#the first game ends with them trying to kill each other. the second one ends with them saving each other

[ruvviks]

PLEASE DO NOT TAG AS YOUR OWN OC OR PAIRING.

Nathan and Ruben share a bond more powerful than most; mutual understanding through past experiences no one should ever have to go through, and through past actions so horrible they cannot be spoken of. Their grief and the blood on their hands binds them to the STEM technology they created, which has alienated them from the rest of the world— but they give each other the comfort they have both longed for so desperately for years, and that is all they need. They are each other's counterpart; you cannot imagine one without the other, like two sides of the same coin. Through their pain, their grief, their desire, and their regret, they have become one.

anna akhmatova, the guest // bones; equinox // 'i won't become' by kim jakobsson // agustín gómez-arcos, the carnivorous lamb // by oxy // achilles come down; gang of youths // czeslaw milosz, from 'new and collected poems: 1931-2001' // 'extended ambience portrait from a resonant biostructure' and 'migraine tenfold times ten' by daniel vega // a little death; the neighbourhood // marina tsvetaeva, from 'poem of the end' // by drummnist // katie maria, winter // 'nocturne in black and gold the falling rocket' by james abbott mcneill whistler // micah nemerever, these violent delights // body language; we are fury // 'the penitent' by emil melmoth // chelsea dingman, from 'of those who can't afford to be gentle'

taglist (opt in/out)

@shellibisshe, @florbelles, @ncytiri, @hibernationsuit, @stars-of-the-heart;

@lestatlioncunt, @katsigian, @radioactiveshitstorm, @estevnys, @adelaidedrubman;

@celticwoman, @rindemption, @carlosoliveiraa, @noirapocalypto, @dickytwister;

@killerspinal, @euryalex, @ri-a-rose, @velocitic, @thedeadthree

[skymantle]

not shipping something subtextual? alright whatever

not shipping it because a wildly popular INACCURATE fan theory says the characters are related? annoying.

not shipping it because you believe (falsely) that they're related + claiming there's no subtext when the crux of the series is the relationship? DIE.

[gothicfied]

(Squid game s2) Can you write a comfort fic about an insecure reader has past trauma and has endured Highschool bullying. When she joins the games and is in the group (Gi-hun, Dae-ho, Jun-hee & others) but once they meet Jun-hee she gets pushed aside and has to join another group in the second game. Feel free to change or add anything, the pairing could be Daeho x reader but it’s up to you <33

Never alone again - Kang Dae-ho / Player 388

Pairing: Kang Dae-ho / Player 388 x Reader

Summary: After seeing you almost die, Dae-ho swore he wouldn't leave your side ever again.

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, gunshots (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

Word Count: ~ 1.2k

A/N: hii! tysm for the request and I hope I did it justice.

You believed Gi-hun from the start. You believed he was right, no sane person would just say stuff like that, right? That they kill each player who gets eliminated? He seemed too damn serious for it to be a lie. And lo and behold, he was right. People. Shot dead. Right in front of you. Red-Light-Green-Light was a traumatic experience. You wanted to quit, you wanted to go home, go home and hug your parents and just be grateful to still be alive.

It was like the universe had turned against you. How wasn't everyone scared out of their minds like you? Was money really all that mattered to them? A heated discussion broke out during the first voting, angry voices yelling at each other, accusing Gi-hun of lying. You took all the courage you had left in you to try and stand up for him, at least make it known that you sided with him. Past experiences, especially your school time, usually made it hard for you to speak up, but that shouldn't really be an issue right now — You could end up dead, that's what worried you. After the voting, that didn't go your way at all, Gi-hun showed gratitude for your courage to say something and suggested you'd stick with him from now on.

Added to your group were In-ho, the last player who actually voted 'O', Jung-bae and Dae-ho, who were both former marines. While eating the lunch provided to you by the guards, those two immediately bonded over their former occupation, which you found endearing. Even though you were currently still to shy to join in on their conversations, you were content with just having a group you could stick to — Because you were sure you absolutely wouldn't survive in here alone.

"And, what's your name?" Dae-ho asked, as hd took a seat on the stairs next to you, happily eating his food. When you told him he gasped, almost chocking in the process. "That's my sisters name!" he laughed, nudging your shoulder with his. You just replied with a little "Oh? No way." and then he began rambling about his life, about his four sisters, about how his father sent him to be a marine and so on. He closed his monologue saying "Anyway, that's a really pretty name." and then proceeded to ask you for your leftover food. He made you laugh, which was nice considering you all were stuck in this hellhole.

In Dae-ho's opinion, you two had a lot in common, even if you didn't at all. He suggested you slept in the bed right under his which was.. well, free now after the first game. At night, you couldn't help but overthink your interactions with not only him, but the other three guys, too. They were so nice and welcoming. All of them had a special attribute that will probably be useful in the coming few days.. and you? You had the feeling that you brought nothing to the table.

The next day, a vast majority of the players went into the second game with the impression that this will be Dalgona, like Gi-hun predicted. Apparently not. The female voice over the speakers ordered the players to form groups of five. "Ah, how perfect," In-ho smiled, "guess we'll be a group then." You looked between the men, nodding in agreement and just when you were about to say something-

"Excuse me, are you maybe searching for one more person-?"

"Oh, no I'm sorry, we're actually already five peo-"

"I'm pregnant."

The girl cut Jung-bae off, resting her hands on her pregnant belly. You raised your eyebrows in shock and no one really seemed to know what to do next. Oh, you felt bad for her. She must've been very desperate if she entered the games while being pregnant. You five were just looking at each other confused, until you took a deep breath: "It's okay, I'll find another group. She needs to be with people she can absolutely win with." You looked at the girl and she looked back, slowly giving you a grateful smile. "No it's okay I'll go-" Dae-ho tried to say, but you waved him off, shaking your head.

"Well.. No, you can't just.."

"Dae-ho," In-ho said in a low tone, putting a hand on his shoulder, "she's pregnant." he said, like Dae-ho needed a reminder of what was right in front of him. You weren't that important to the team anyways, and that girl needed your help. So, it was decided, and in the end you did find a team of three players who voted 'X', like you, and one who didn't. You felt fairly safe with these people and even if you didn't, you didn't have much of a choice.

The game was a six-legged pentathlon with five mini games you had to split between each team member to complete. Watching the first few teams go was an absolute adrenaline rush, given the small amount of time of five minutes, the first few players were shot on sight pretty early on. This made you nervous to the point where you could throw up. Your original group was sitting a few meters away from youd current one and you did lock eyes with Dae-ho quite a bit, him giving you reassuring glances or a thumbs up. You mustered up a smile, trying yo calm your thoughts down.

I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this-

Oh but you could. Your team, which came before Gi-hun's, barely made it over the finish line with three seconds to spare, making the crowd of waiting players roar and cheer and yell "Good job!". The most time you lost was at Gonggi, thankfully not your mini game. Being able to beat yours on the first try filled you with the confidence you needed, which was probably the only thing that kept you up on your feet. Speaking of which, the shackles, that bound your left leg together with the player next to you, were taken off of them and you were free to go. Well, back into the dorm area.

Anxiously, you sat on your bed and waited, for your team. Players streamed in, one after the other, just not the ones you were so desperate to see. You were biting your fingernails, your thoughts being flooded with the fear of them all just dying, being left alone to survive this shit.

Suddenly, you heard a voice call out for you. It was Dae-ho (who else?) who basically sprinted to you. Before you could even stand up to reciprocate his hug, he pulled you up into his arms, squeezing the air out if his lungs. "Do you know how scared I was?" he sounded really out of breath. You didn't reply, just hugged him back the best you could and watched Jung-bae laugh to himself, watching the two of you. "I'm so glad you're alive! I'll never let you do that again, okay? Next time, I'll be the one to find another group.. not you okay?" His word vomit just wouldn't stop.

"Let's hope there won't be a next time."

"Obviously there won't be, I won't ever let you leave again."

[producedbysohyun]

Protective

Squid game x reader hcs

Summary: How the squid games characters would be protective over you

Includes: Thanos, In-ho, Gi-hun, Dae-ho, Myung-gi, Hyun-ju (squid game au)

Warnings: mentions of death, might be a little repetitive because I just feel like they would act similar.

Masterlist

a/n: Mb this is pretty short but I haven’t posted in awhile so I wanted to post something (I might add to this as time goes on) !! Please enjoy !!

Thanos:

Let’s just say that if anyone lays a finger on you, they are dead 🤗

You literally don’t have to worry about dying when you are with him

Always has his arm around your shoulder or waist so everyone knows to not try anything with you

During the night he holds onto you so tightly you feel like you could suffocate

He just really doesn’t want anything to happen to you 😔

If you really don’t want to play the games he will cave and vote X

You mean way more to him than money

No matter how bad his debt is

*cough* 1 billion *cough*

In-ho:

Idk how you would get in the game in the first place cause he definitely wouldn’t let you but

Ya you are not dying

Has full control of the game and will do everything he can to make sure you don’t die

Even if it means playing unfairly

Tells the guards to not kill you even if you didn’t pass the game

Definitely tells the guards to give you extra food so you have energy 😭

You’re basically just gonna be playing the games on easy mode

Gi-hun:

Bro has nothing to lose besides you so he’s gonna do everything he possible can to keep you alive

Doesn’t let you go anywhere alone

Beats himself up about not trying harder to end the games because if he did then neither of you would be in this situation right now

Never sleeps because he knows that fights happen at night and he wants to make sure you’re safe

Would immediately put himself in danger if it meant you would be ok

Makes sure you pass the games before even worrying about himself

Dae-ho:

Does not take his eyes or hands off of you

Is not afraid to defend you either verbally or physically

Even tho he is freaked out about the games as well he doesn’t let it get to him and tells himself he has to be brave for you

Always puts your safety above his

Ends up getting no sleep at night because he’s so scared something is gonna happen to you

Always insists on giving you his food even tho he is hungry

In his mind, you matter more.

Myung-gi:

Wanted to keep playing the games but when he figured out you were there he voted for X as he wanted anything but for you to be dead or hurt

Will literally kill anyone who bad mouths you (that one scene when he killed Thanos because he said something about Jun-hee 🤭 rip Thanos 😞)

Doesn’t let you leave his sight for a second

During the special game where the lights went out and everyone was killing each other he just kept you behind him the entire time

Boy was ready to risk his life for you 😭

If you get separated during a game he will probably scold you out of worry before realizing that he’s literally yelling at you for something you couldn’t control

You better believe he won’t let you get separated from him again

Hyun-ju:

Girl would do absolutely anything to keep you alive

Holds your hand 24/7

You guys are NOT getting separated

Doesn’t care about herself

As long as you’re alive she’s ok

Would absolutely crash out if anything happened to you

If you wanted to join the revolt with them she would tell you no instantly

Because if you ended up dying and it was her fault she would never forgive herself

Can’t sleep because she wants to watch over you pt.2 😢

a/n: I hope you guys liked this!! I know I say that requests are closed rn but I will take requests for hcs !! Not for a singular character but if it’s for multiple characters I will gladly write it !!

[yes-no-maybe-soo]

Okay so listing the shit Sylus has gone through from memory...

He is heavily implied to have been rejected or outright abandoned by his parents as a very young dragon

He was always an outcast. Not human enough. Not dragon enough.

He cut off his scales and his horns because he hated them so much. But they grew back no matter what he did (again as a child)

The only kin he had got slaughtered right in front of him. Leaving him as the last dragon alive.

The same humans who slaughtered his kin but spared him because of his appearance turn on him the moment they see he is not in fact human and try to kill him. Again, this all happens when he is young.

He is then persecuted by humans until at some point, he ends up sealed in the Abyss, a greatsword lodged in his chest, preventing him from moving freely even down there. He stays like that for 1,600 years, surviving on Wanderer Protocores

He meets MC, who frees him. They fall in love, split half their souls with each other, and are happy. But due to the dragon's curse, Sylus is destined to kill her one day because she is his beloved... or she him, because she is his destined archnemesis.

MC is taken from him. Sylus goes berserk and loses his mind, his dragon instincts taking over fully.

He sacrifices himself for MC last second before he can kill her. Breaking their curse. Giving her a chance at a life free from being used and abused, and himself eternal rest

Only, MC has other plans and curses him to eternal life, essentially. Only she can kill him.

At some point in time, Sylus is reincarnated together with MC in the nebula. There they are both locked up in a gladiatorial cage as mere children, forced to kill for public entertainment. Think Hunger Games.

They successfully escape together, but at a later point in time they are separated by the Deepspace Tunnel or as Sylus says "You were quietly moved to another garden in a foreign land".

Sylus ends up in space-time prison. We don't know how long he spent there or what was done to him, but I doubt it was in any way pleasant or easy.

He escapes and space pirates through the cosmos for MC, who he can probably sense is still out there. He eventually pinpoints her location, but is unable to properly reunite with her... because she has regressed to a young child. He frees her, but walks off... effectively losing her a third time. He also learns of the horrific torture that Gaia put her through. He watches over her from a distance, but never approaches her, valuing her autonomy too much to insert himself. But he waits for her. Hopes – no, knows – that she will find her way to him, if only to seek answers about her past.

The next 12 years – as most of his existence – are spent almost entirely alone, with no one except Mephie for companionship. He has no friends. No family. No close associates. Things do improve with Luke and Kieran's arrival.

14 years after he left her, he meets MC again. But she doesn't remember him, and worse, actively hates him and blames him for the death of her family, of which he had no part.

He is told straight to his face that MC – his soulmate and prime reason for living – rejects him, fears him, and is disgusted by him. Which very visibly hurts him.

Sees the Deepspace Tunnel again and with it, memories of losing MC. Again, the pain on his face is very visible.

In Death and Rebirth, he gets a hurtful reminder that he still doesn't have MC's full trust. And – yet again – the distress is apparent. Because their trust in each other is everything to him.

So... in summary: Sylus has been used, abused, isolated, and locked away for most of his life. He is so unused to kindness and to being treated like a human being that he doesn't know how to react when people wish him happy birthday.

Any care he was shown for the first millennia of his life came exclusively from MC, the one person to actually see him as something other than a Monster. Said soulmate is taken from him twice, tortured and repeatedly killed, her memories of him erased. When they meet again in current timeline, she hates him, and it takes a long time for Sylus to undo the damage of their first meeting.

The man has not had it easy, nor has he gotten to feel much joy.

So it'd be understandable to become bitter. Cruel. Cold.

But he doesn't

Hell, he never even crashes out (as far as we know).

Instead he's compassionate, an animal and nature lover, attends and donates at charity events, takes in the two orphans that tried to kill him, is the King of Consent, very emotionally mature etc.

Sylus is so strong, man... he never lost himself. He never lost his innate kindness despite a life (or lives ig) where nearly none was ever shown him.

[rosyrosethings]

Snowed in

This is slowwww burn. Enemies to lovers. I love a good slow burn

7k+ words

Y/N’s breath puffed into the frozen air as she slammed her car door shut, the sound echoing across the quiet clearing. Snow crunched beneath her boots as she stepped forward, scarf pulled tighter around her neck, eyes lifting toward the cabin nestled between towering pines.

It was bigger than she expected—three stories of rich timber and stone, with a wraparound porch and smoke curling lazily from the chimney. Warm golden light spilled from the windows, glowing like a promise against the cold gray sky. It would’ve been the perfect winter escape—if he wasn’t coming.

She sighed sharply, her breath fogging up her glasses. Of course Harry Styles was coming. Of course he had to be part of this.

The group trip had sounded great in theory: a week in a mountain cabin with friends, no work, just snow, booze, board games, and long mornings in pajamas. Y/N had needed the break—desperately. And it might’ve been just what she needed, if it weren’t for the single walking migraine that came bundled with dimples and a British accent.

Harry Styles was a menace. A flirty, smug, utterly infuriating headache of a man who lived to push her buttons. He always knew just what to say, what look to give, how to hover one second too long. Every interaction was a tug-of-war—one he acted like he was enjoying a little too much. She swore he only said her name like that—low and drawn out—just to make her skin crawl.

And worse? It worked.

She’d made sure to arrive first. If she had to be stuck here all week, she’d at least claim the best room. Hoisting her duffel bag onto one shoulder, she trudged up the porch stairs and brushed snow from her sleeves. The front door creaked open with a gentle push—unlocked, just like Mitch promised.

Inside, the cabin was warm and still, filled with the soft glow of firelight and the scent of cedar. Thick beams crossed the ceiling, a stone fireplace crackled quietly at the far end of the room, and plush rugs softened the dark wood floors. She stepped in slowly, letting the quiet settle over her like a blanket. For just a moment, it was perfect.

Then the front door flew open behind her with a burst of icy air.

“Don’t tell me you beat me here,” called a voice that made her jaw tighten on instinct.

She didn’t even need to look. She knew that voice.

Harry Styles stepped inside like he owned the place, snow dusting his boots and curls poking out from beneath a black beanie. His cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, eyes bright and full of mischief. That stupid, irresistible grin was already on his face.

“Unfortunately,” she muttered without turning around.

“Wow,” he said, unzipping his coat. “You came early. That’s cute. Trying to set up booby traps before I arrive?”

“Actually, I came early so I wouldn’t have to see your face for a few hours.”

He let out a laugh that was far too delighted. “God, you missed me.”

“I missed peace.”

Harry strolled farther in, glancing around like he was already rating the decor. “You know, the more you insult me, the more I’m convinced you dream about me at night.”

“I don’t dream about clowns.”

He raised a brow. “That’s weird. I dream about you sometimes.”

Y/N turned slowly, fixing him with a glare. “You’re disgusting.”

“And yet,” he said, gesturing around them with mock innocence, “here you are. Sharing a roof with me.”

Before she could snap back, her phone buzzed so did Harry’s . Then again. Then a third time. She pulled it out and opened the group chat.

Dan: Roads are closing—storm’s worse than they predicted Lauren: They won’t let us past the ranger checkpoint Mitch: They’re putting us up at this little lodge halfway up the mountain Jessica: We’ll have to wait out the storm, prob can’t get to the cabin tonight Dan: You guys hold it down. Try not to kill each other Lauren: Or worse... hook up lol Y/N: I hope the snow swallows you all

She stared at the screen. Then slowly looked up. Harry was already grinning. “You have got to be kidding me.” She said under her breath. 

“Just us,” he said, arms outstretched like it was a dream come true. “In a beautiful, secluded cabin. Four bedrooms. And yet, I know you’ll still find ways to bump into me.”

“In your dreams.”

Harry waggled his eyebrows. “Exactly.”

Y/N groaned and turned for the stairs. “I’m claiming the biggest room.”

“Already did.”

She froze. “Excuse me?”

“I was here first,” he said, smug. “Technically. I parked in the back, took the back stairs. My bag’s already on the bed. Mountain view, window seat, king bed. Super cozy.”

“You sneaky little—”

“Now, now,” he said, holding up his hands like he was diffusing a bomb. “Still three other bedrooms left. Unless, of course... you want to share?”

She turned slowly, her glare sharp enough to cut glass. “I’d rather eat a blue jean jacket.”

He burst out laughing as she stormed up the stairs.

Y/N flung open the second bedroom door with more force than necessary. It wasn’t as big as the master, but it would do—queen bed, soft blankets, a little window with a snow-covered view. Most importantly, it was far enough away from Harry’s room that she wouldn’t have to hear him breathing.

She tossed her bag onto the bed and sat down, still bundled in her coat. Outside, the snow was falling faster now—thick, heavy flakes swirling in the wind. It was almost hypnotic, the way it danced through the air, piling higher along the porch and creeping up the trees.

They weren’t going anywhere tonight. That much was clear.

She had just finished unpacking when it happened.

Click.

The heater cut off.

A strange silence followed—no humming refrigerator, no subtle buzz of electricity. Just the low crackle of the fire from downstairs and the eerie groan of the wind pressing against the walls.

Then darkness.

Y/N paused, mid-step, her pulse skipping as the reality settled in.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered, flicking the light switch a few more times. 

Nothing.

From downstairs came Harry’s voice: “Power’s out!”

She rolled her eyes and shouted back, “Thanks, Sherlock!”

She quickly changed into some pjs, looking in bag for some kind of light source besides her phone to save battery. 

Nothing.

Just a book, a portable charger, Yarn,  and her pride.

The wind howled again, louder now, rattling the window beside her like a warning. The room was already getting colder. Upstairs suddenly felt very far away from the fire—and far too close to the storm.

With a grumble, she grabbed her phone and her book and headed downstairs.

The living room was dim, lit only by the fireplace’s faint orange glow. Harry was crouched in front of it, sleeves rolled up, feeding a fresh log into the flames. Sparks popped and danced up the chimney, and the heat slowly returned to the room.

Y/N stopped at the bottom step, arms crossed over her chest.

Harry looked up. “Look who finally decided to join me.”

“It’s freezing upstairs,” she said flatly. “And I don’t feel like being trapped in a horror movie setting alone.”

“Sure. That’s why,” he said, grinning. “Not because you missed me?”

She gave him a look. “I’d rather sleep outside.”

Harry stood and brushed off his hands. “Suit yourself. But unless you want to become a human popsicle, this fire is your best friend now.”

She walked to the far end of the couch and sat down stiffly, curling her legs under her. “Don’t talk to me.”

“No promises,” he said, disappearing into the kitchen.

A few moments later, he returned with a cardboard box and a lighter. “Found these in the drawer next to the fridge. Candles.”

Y/N took them wordlessly and began lighting them one by one, placing them across the room—on the mantle, the windowsill, the coffee table. Warm golden light flickered to life in small halos, casting long shadows and softening the edges of the cabin.

The room shrank around them, cozier now, quieter.

She picked up her book, flipped to her dogeared page, and began reading. Harry dropped into the armchair closest to the fire, his long legs stretching out in front of him as he stared into the flames.

For several minutes, neither of them spoke.

Outside, the storm roared like an angry beast, but inside, all was still.

Until—

Growl.

It was faint, but unmistakable.

Y/N froze, eyes locked on the page. She tried to play it off by flipping to the next chapter like nothing happened.

Harry opened one eye. “Was that… you?”

She didn’t answer.

“That was your stomach,” he said, grinning.

“It was the wind.”

“The wind doesn’t sound hungry, Y/N.”

She snapped her book shut. “Do not start.”

Harry stood with a stretch, heading into the kitchen. “Relax. I brought food.”

“Oh good,” she called. “Protein bars and bad decisions?”

“Funny. But no,” he said, rummaging through his bag. “Tonight, we dine like kings.”

He returned with two packs of instant ramen, a small pot, and a grin that made her immediately suspicious.

“You brought ramen?”

“Laugh all you want, but I knew we’d end up needing it. Mountain weather waits for no man.”

“I’d rather starve.”

Harry shrugged and headed toward the stove. “Suit yourself. But when you faint from hunger, I’m not catching you.”

She didn’t reply—but her eyes followed him as he knelt beside the wood-burning stove, coaxing the flames higher. He looked completely in his element, sleeves pushed up, focus sharp, hands steady. It was annoying how competent he looked.

And how good.

She turned back to her book, scowling at the page like it had personally offended her.

Behind her, she heard the familiar sound of water heating. Then the soft rustle of plastic as he tore open the ramen packets.

“Just so you know,” Harry said, “I’m making two bowls. Because I know you. You’ll pretend you’re not hungry, then creep into the kitchen at midnight like a raccoon.”

“I won’t.”

“You will.”

The scent of ramen filled the room, savory and warm. Her stomach growled again.

“I’m not eating that,” she said, sharper this time.

“Didn’t say you were,” he said casually, pouring noodles into the steaming water. “But I’m placing one bowl near you and walking away. What happens after that is between you and your integrity.”

Y/N didn’t answer. But her eyes flicked toward the stove. The ramen smelled criminally good. Salty, warm, comforting in the way only cheap noodles could be when you’re snowed in, half-frozen, and pretending not to starve in front of your nemesis.

Y/N tried to ignore it.

Harry stirred the pot slowly, adding the seasoning packets like he was cooking for a five-star review. When the noodles were ready, he ladled them into two mismatched ceramic bowls and grabbed a pair of forks.

He approached the couch and, without a word, set one steaming bowl down on the coffee table in front of her.

She glanced at it.

Then back at him.

“It’s not poisoned,” he said, settling into the other end of the couch. “But if it was, honestly? I’d be impressed with myself.”

She glared. Her stomach growled again.

He wiggled his brows. “You gonna eat it or dramatically waste it to prove a point?”

Y/N let out a low groan and snatched the bowl. “I hate you.”

“You say that,” Harry said, twirling noodles onto his fork, “but you’re eating my food. Sitting in my firelight. Basking in my radiant charm.”

“Basking in your delusions.”

They both dug in, the room quiet except for the clink of forks and the soft whistle of wind outside. For a long stretch of time, they didn’t speak. Just ate. And sat. And didn’t hate it.

The silence felt different now.

Not stiff.

Not hostile.

Just… warm.

Y/N leaned back into the couch when her bowl was empty, curling the blanket tighter around her legs. Harry remained at the other end, his posture loose, gaze on the fire.

“You know,” he said, voice soft, “if this storm keeps up, I’m calling dibs on the big blanket tomorrow.”

She didn’t look over. “I’ll smother you with it.”

He chuckled, low and rough. “Sounds romantic.”

They lapsed into silence again, but this time it was laced with something unspoken. 

Something new.

The fire crackled, burning low and golden. The storm continued to rage outside, but inside, it felt distant. Muted.

Eventually, Harry stood and gathered their empty bowls, placing them in the sink before returning to the couch with a heavy sigh. He dropped beside her again, lounging like it was his right.

She gave him a look. “You have your own space.”

“And yet,” he said, propping his feet on the coffee table, “this couch is cozy. Candle-lit. Warm. And you didn’t tell me to leave.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and turned back to her book. She flipped a page, pretending to be immersed in the story—but his presence was louder than any paragraph.

After a few minutes, he tilted his head toward her.

“What are you reading?”

She didn’t look up. “You wouldn’t care.”

“You don’t know that.”

“It’s not a comic or a sports article, so…”

He smirked. “You’re adorable when you’re judgmental.” She ignored that. 

“Come on,” he said, nudging her with his foot. “Read it out loud.”

She glanced at him, confused. “Why?”

“I don’t know. Your voice is nice. And the wind sounds like it’s trying to eat the house. Distract me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “No.”

“You owe me.”

“For what?”

“For feeding you. I could’ve made one bowl. I made two. That’s sacrifice.”

“That’s survival.”

“Still counts.”

She sighed, long and theatrical, then flipped back to the top of the chapter. “Fine. But if you interrupt me, I stop.”

He grinned and held up both hands. “Scout’s honor.”

Y/N cleared her throat and began reading, her voice steady and calm. The flickering fire beside them cast moving shadows along the walls, and Harry leaned back, watching her with quiet interest.

For once, he didn’t interrupt.

He didn’t tease.

He just listened.

She wasn’t used to that—not from him. But something about the way he was looking at her made her cheeks warm. Made her voice wobble just slightly before she caught herself.

She read until the end of the chapter, then gently folded the corner of the page and shut the book.

“There,” she said. “Happy?”

Harry blinked slowly, like waking from a dream. “That’s where it ends?”

“Yes. Thats the end of the chapter." 

“That’s criminal. Rachel’s about to ruin her life.”

“You were actually paying attention?”

“Obviously. She slept with Dex, Darcy's Fiance. There’s no turning back now.”

Y/N stared at him. “You know all their names?”

“I’m invested,” he said seriously. “You roped me into a soap opera.”

She laughed before she could stop herself—a soft, reluctant sound that made Harry smile wider. 

“You’re ridiculous,” she muttered.

“And you,” he said, shifting closer, “are kind of cute when you read." 

She scoffed. “You’re pushing it.”

He held out his hand. “Give me the book. I’ll read the next chapter.”

“You?”

“I have a British accent. It’ll be very dramatic.”

She rolled her eyes, but handed it over.

Harry adjusted on the couch, stretching his legs out with the book in his lap. He cleared his throat with exaggerated flair.

“Chapter Nine,” he announced in a mock-theatrical voice. “The morning after, I woke up feeling guilty… but not quite guilty enough.”

Y/N groaned, pulling the blanket over her face. 

“Regret.”

“Shh. I’m reading.”

To her surprise, he wasn’t half bad. His voice, while occasionally dramatic for effect, dipped low and smooth at the right moments. His pacing was steady, and when he didn’t know a word, he rolled right through it like it didn’t matter. And it didn’t—not when he made the story sound like it belonged to him.

She peeked out from under the blanket and studied him quietly.

Harry’s curls had fallen into his face again, his lips moving softly with each line. His brow furrowed a little when the main character said something reckless. His mouth twitched into a smirk when the tension in the story spiked. He was... focused. Softened by firelight. And honestly, kind of beautiful.

Y/N blinked that thought away immediately. Nope. No. Absolutely not.

But then he stopped again—mid-sentence—and raised his brows with that familiar, knowing grin.

“Oh, this one’s good,” he said, holding the book up like it was evidence. Then he read, “‘I knew I was flirting. And I knew he was flirting back. But I also knew I wouldn’t stop.’”

Y/N groaned. “Okay, that’s enough.”

Harry looked over the top of the book, grinning. “You sure? Sounds familiar.”

“In what world?”

“In this cabin. Right now.”

“You are delusional.”

He laughed, eyes crinkling. “Maybe. But you’re smiling.”

She rolled her eyes, trying to hide the curve of her mouth. “Back to reading, pretty boy.”

Harry paused. Blinked. Then slowly smiled—this time softer. More real.

“You think I’m pretty?”

Y/N opened her mouth. Closed it.

There was something in the way he said it—like it wasn’t a joke this time. Like he really wanted to know. And with the firelight flickering behind him, casting a golden glow on his skin and catching in his lashes, she couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t.

She looked away, fingers tightening slightly in the blanket. “Shut up.”

Harry chuckled, but the grin he wore wasn’t teasing now—it was warm. Gentle. The kind of smile that lingered, even after he turned back to the page.

He cleared his throat and read on, but Y/N wasn’t really listening anymore.

Because now she was the one sneaking glances.

And for the first time since they’d gotten snowed in…

She wasn’t sure if she hated it.

She turned her attention back to the fire—but it was no use. Her eyes kept drifting back to him. To the way he absently tapped the side of the book with his finger.

She didn’t realize she was slipping until her head gently tilted toward the arm of the couch. Her eyelids blinked slower. The warmth of the room, the steady cadence of his voice, the way her body had finally stopped fighting—all of it lulled her deeper.

By the time Harry flipped the next page, she was completely still.

He glanced over.

Y/N was curled up in her corner of the couch, her face relaxed, her lips parted slightly in sleep. One hand still held the edge of the blanket, like she’d tried to fight it, but lost.

He smiled to himself and lowered the book.

“You couldn’t hang, huh?” he whispered.

Carefully, he set the book down on the coffee table, then turned back toward her. She looked peaceful—peaceful in a way he’d never seen her. All the snark and sharp edges melted off, just warmth and soft lashes and slow breaths.

Harry hesitated.

Then he reached behind her, grabbed the throw blanket and gently draped it over her. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake.

He paused a moment longer, looking at her.

He’d spent years getting under her skin. 

Teasing her, pushing her, watching her snap back at him with fire in her voice. And yeah, he’d loved every second of it. But this? This quiet moment, where she trusted him enough to fall asleep beside him?

It undid something in him.

“Goodnight angry,” he murmured.

He considered heading to his room, giving her space—but the warmth of the fire, the soft light of the candles, and her presence just a few inches away kept him still.

So he stayed.

He shifted gently onto his side of the couch, pulling the blanket over himself, careful not to disturb her.

And for the first time since arriving, Harry didn’t feel like pretending he didn’t care.

He closed his eyes, the storm still whispering outside, and let sleep take him too.

//

Y/N stirred in her sleep, the creeping chill tugging her gently out of her dreams. Her nose twitched. Her fingers flexed, brushing against something warm and solid.

That was the first clue something was… off.

The rest hit her all at once.

There was a strong arm wrapped snug around her waist. A warm chest pressed up against her back. A leg—oh god, someone’s leg—tangled over hers. And she wasn’t cold. Not really. Not where they were touching. She was actually kind of… cozy?

Still half-asleep, she nestled into the warmth, letting herself enjoy it for a moment. Whoever it was, they were warm and still and—

Wait.

Wait.

That scent.

Cedarwood. Laundry detergent. Trouble.

Her eyes snapped open.

No. No, no, no.

She shifted her head slowly, heart beginning to race as her gaze dropped to the pale arm curled tightly around her midsection. That was not her blanket. That was a man. And that—

“Oh my god,” she whispered, her voice rasping out into the quiet.

In one sharp motion, she jolted upright like she’d just discovered a tarantula in her bed. 

The blanket flew off, and Harry groaned behind her, arm flopping where she’d been.

“What the—”

He blinked up at her, bleary-eyed and confused, his curls a mess and his voice thick with sleep. “Why’d you move? We were warm.”

Y/N stared at him like she was trying to manifest fire from her pupils. “Were we cuddling?!”

Harry yawned. “It’s called body heat, sweetheart.”

She scrambled off the couch like she’d been electrocuted. “No. Nope. No, no, no.”

Still lounging on his side, Harry propped his head up with one hand, a crooked smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“For what?”

“For saving your life. It’s called survival cuddling.”

“I’d rather freeze to death.”

“You didn’t seem to mind a second ago.”

Her mouth opened. Then closed. Because damn it, she had liked it just for a second. Before she realized who it was. Before Harry’s obnoxious charm showed up at full volume.

She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders like armor. “I must’ve been sleep-deprived. Or delusional.”

Harry stretched lazily, unbothered and still shirtless. “I’m a great cuddler, Y/N. It’s okay to admit that.”

“You spooned me like a heat-seeking missile.”

He grinned. “You were the one radiating warmth.”

She gave him a flat look. “You’re not cute.”

He shrugged. “You did call me pretty last night.”

“That was sarcasm.”

“Sure it was.”

Before she could fire back, a frigid gust whistled against the windows, and they both turned to glance at the hearth. The fire was completely out. Just ash and cold logs.

Y/N sighed and rubbed her arms. “Perfect. Now we’re actually gonna freeze.”

Harry sat up and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll get more firewood. Don’t go passing out without me.”

“Trust me,” she muttered, stalking toward the kitchen. “You’ve cured me of any desire to sleep.”

As he disappeared into the hall to grab wood from the closet, she watched him go—shirtless, annoyingly tall, and still wearing that smug grin.

She scowled.

And yet, the ghost of warmth where he’d held her still lingered. And for some reason… that annoyed her most of all.

By the time Harry dragged himself off the floor and toward the stack of firewood in the back room, Y/N had wrapped herself in a blanket so tightly she looked like a grumpy little burrito—warm, silent, and very much Not In The Mood.

The cabin was freezing—again. The fire had gone out overnight, and without power, the chill seeped into everything that wasn’t pressed up against the hearth.

She didn’t say anything as Harry disappeared down the hall. When he returned with an armful of logs, she watched from the couch—quietly, like a cat perched on alert. He didn’t speak either, just dropped to his knees and got to work rebuilding the fire.

It only took him a few minutes to get it going again—he was weirdly good at it, crouched low in his hoodie and sweats, sleeves pushed up, curls falling into his eyes as he coaxed flames from kindling like he did this all the time.

And maybe he did.

Which was somehow more irritating.

Y/N pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders, biting back the part of her brain that wanted to compliment him. Or at the very least... thank him.

Nope.

Absolutely not.

"Fire’s back," he said finally, brushing ash from his palms as he stood. The fire crackled again, warm golden light spilling across the cabin floor. “You’re welcome.”

She didn’t look up. “Congratulations on fulfilling basic survival instincts.”

"You really know how to say ‘thank you,’" he muttered, walking past her toward the kitchen. “And to think I was sensing improvement.”

Y/N didn’t respond. Instead, she reached into her tote bag and pulled out a tangled skein of golden-brown yarn and her favorite crochet hook—slipping into rhythm the moment the yarn touched her fingers. Hook. Pull. Twist. Loop. Her mind began to settle. A scarf, maybe. She didn’t care what it was. It was something to do with her hands while her brain spun in circles.

Across the room, she heard the familiar rustling of a duffel bag being unzipped. Water clinking into a small pot. The stove creaked open—still warm from last night—and a match hissed to life. No eggs this morning.

Just ramen. Again.

It was weirdly comforting.

She didn’t say anything, but her stomach did.

Harry didn’t even turn around. “Didn’t even argue this time. Growth.”

“I’m reserving my insults for later,” she said coolly, not looking up from her stitches.

“Save your energy,” he called back. “You’re gonna need it to slurp this world-class noodle masterpiece.”

“You mean boil noodles and dump powder in?”

“Gordon Ramsay’s shaking.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but kept crocheting. The crackle of the fire, the bubbling pot, and the smell of salty broth slowly warming the room—it was peaceful, in a weird, very not normal way.

Twenty minutes later, he appeared at the edge of her vision, holding out a ceramic bowl with a fork sticking out. 

She eyed it warily.

“It’s not poisoned,” he said, nudging it closer. 

“Unless you count sodium as a weapon.” Y/N took the bowl with a soft grunt of thanks, still not meeting his eyes.

Harry dropped onto the floor beside the couch, cross-legged, cradling his own bowl. “We’ve officially peaked. Noodles by candlelight.”

“You’re romanticizing instant ramen,” she muttered, digging in.

He slurped dramatically. “That’s because this is romantic.”

She smirked, barely.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, the kind of silence that was… not awkward. Not quite comfortable either. Something in between. Something new.

Y/N peeked at him once. Just once.

But of course, he caught her.

“What?” he asked, noodles hanging out of his mouth like a fool.

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“You were staring.”

“I was judging.”

“Same thing,” he said, swallowing. “But go ahead, admit it. I make excellent apocalypse noodles.”

She considered. “They’re edible.”

“High praise,” he said, mock-bowing his head.

When she finished her bowl, she set it aside and reached for her yarn again. Harry leaned back on one hand and watched her fingers move.

“So… that your new scarf?”

“Maybe.”

He watched a little longer, then added, “You always crochet when you’re annoyed?”

She didn’t look up. “It’s either this or fight someone.”

He snorted. “You’re full of sunshine.”

She kept going, calm and rhythmic. “Crochet doesn’t talk back. Doesn’t flirt. Doesn’t leave its socks everywhere.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “I do none of those things.”

“You flirted with a squirrel yesterday.”

“That squirrel was asking for it.”

Y/N choked on a laugh and shook her head. The moment stretched, softening like dough under a rolling pin. No tension. No snark. Just two people thawing—slowly—beside the fire.

Harry tilted his head, eyeing her half-finished piece. “Make me something?”

She looked at him like he had sprouted antlers. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Because I’ll wear it. And think of you every time I do.”

“That’s supposed to make me want to make you something?”

His grin widened. “Come on. I’d look good in something you made.”

Y/N paused, stared at him, then muttered, “A muzzle.”

Harry laughed—really laughed. Not one of his smug little chuckles or sarcastic scoffs, but a genuine, warm burst of amusement that crinkled his eyes and curled his dimples.

She wasn’t used to hearing that kind of laugh from him.

She definitely wasn’t used to liking it.And that unsettled her more than the blizzard howling outside. It cracked something open in her chest, something quiet and hesitant and unfamiliar.

They fell into an easy silence after that. The fire glowed steadily now, golden and soft, casting lazy shadows on the cabin walls. Their ramen bowls sat empty on the floor beside them. Y/N’s yarn moved between her fingers like it had a heartbeat of its own—loop, pull, twist, repeat. Soothing, steady. But her eyes kept drifting, flicking toward him more often than she wanted to admit.

Then Harry leaned forward and picked up the book they’d started the night before—the same one she’d read to him by candlelight. His thumb brushed over the dog-eared corner he'd folded down before he fell asleep.

“I could read a bit more,” he said casually, already flipping it open. “Unless you’re too busy knitting me a muzzle.”

“It’s crochet,” she corrected, without missing a stitch.

He smirked. “Still not denying it.”

“I’m considering gag options.”

“Charming,” he murmured with a grin, already settling back into the couch. He adjusted until he was half-reclined again, legs stretched out and the book open on his lap. The firelight danced across his face and the worn paperback, softening both in a way that made her throat tighten unexpectedly.

Y/N didn’t stop him.

Didn’t tease.

Didn’t even roll her eyes.

Instead, she just kept crocheting as his voice filled the room again—low and warm and surprisingly steady, each word threading between them like another row in the blanket between her hands.

The fire crackled quietly, a low hum behind Harry’s words. Outside, the wind pressed against the windows like a whisper, muffled by thick snow. Inside, everything felt smaller. Closer.

Safer.

Before they knew it Time clicked away,  Harry read without pause, his voice dipping with tension, rising with humor. The tips of his fingers tapped the page as he spoke. He didn’t rush. Didn’t perform. It almost felt like he forgot she was there—like he read for himself.

Y/N curled her legs beneath her and tried to focus on her stitches, but her hands were stiff with cold. The blanket wrapped around her wasn’t cutting it anymore. The fire helped, sure—but her body craved something more immediate. Something warm and alive.

Something like the man sitting next to her.

She told herself it was just the temperature. Just comfort. Just necessity.

But her body was already leaning before her mind caught up.

First, her shoulder brushed against his arm.

Harry’s eyes flicked to her, a quiet glance, but he didn’t stop reading. He didn’t flinch or shift away. Instead, he adjusted slightly, tilting the book so she could see the page better. His posture relaxed, the corner of the throw blanket brushing her knee now.

It was a silent invitation.

She didn’t pull back.

A few pages later, her knee nudged against his.

Then the blanket slipped off one shoulder, goosebumps rising instantly along her skin.

Without missing a word, Harry reached behind them, grabbed the thicker throw blanket draped over the couch, and gently, wordlessly laid it across both of them. His hand grazed her arm in the process—warm and steady, grounding her like an anchor.

Y/N’s breath caught.

It was subtle.

Barely anything.

But somehow… it was everything.

She didn’t lean away. Didn’t speak.

She just listened—to the story, to the fire, to the steady, deliberate rhythm of his voice beside her.

And when she finally let her hook fall into her lap, resting her yarn beside her, she didn’t even notice her head tipping onto his shoulder.

She should’ve shifted. Should’ve made a sarcastic quip. Should’ve rebuilt the distance they’d so carefully maintained since the moment they met.

But instead… she let it happen.

Harry didn’t speak. Didn’t tease.

His arm moved slowly behind her back, slipping across her shoulders and resting with gentle weight along the curve of her body. He didn’t squeeze. Didn’t pull. Just held her—warm and patient, as if he’d known all along she would fold eventually.

He read on like nothing had changed.

But it had.

Y/N sat curled beneath his arm, blanket pooled around them both, the steady rise and fall of his voice softening into something she hadn’t let herself feel in a long time—safe. It wasn’t the story anymore that had her full attention. It was him. The way his chest moved beneath her cheek. The slow cadence of his breathing. The warmth that radiated off him like a second fire.

Her fingers twitched slightly beneath the blanket and—without meaning to—came to rest lightly over his chest.

Harry’s voice faltered for half a second. Barely noticeable. But she heard it.

He cleared his throat, blinked down at the page, and continued reading.

The book was hitting its emotional stride. Rachel was unraveling. Dex was making excuses. Darcy was still in the dark. The drama should’ve made Y/N roll her eyes—but now, it felt different. Like every word was being read not just aloud, but to her.

Specifically.

Intentionally.

And yet, it wasn’t performative. There was no smugness, no smirk on his face. Harry wasn’t playing a role anymore. He was just a boy reading a book, holding a girl who used to swear she hated him.

Somewhere around the middle of the chapter, her eyes started to flutter shut. Not from boredom. Not even from sleep. But from the calm—the peace—that had settled deep in her chest.

Her head dropped fully onto his shoulder. She felt his muscles tense just a little. Then relax again.

She didn’t mean to nuzzle closer.

But she did.

And he didn’t stop her.

His hand shifted slightly, brushing up her arm until it rested at the bend of her shoulder. The pads of his fingers touched her like she might disappear if he held too tight.

She didn’t.

She stayed.

By the time he finished the chapter, the room had gone quiet again.

He glanced down at her.

Y/N was still awake—barely—but her eyes were half-lidded, lashes brushing her cheeks, mouth parted the slightest bit. Her fingers were still resting against his chest. Her body tucked along his side like it had always belonged there.

Harry closed the book slowly and rested it on the table.

He didn’t say anything.

Didn’t want to break the moment.

Instead, he looked at her. Really looked.

She wasn’t scowling.

Wasn’t rolling her eyes.

Wasn’t biting back a sharp remark.

She just looked… soft.

Warm.

Real.

Like someone he hadn’t fully met yet—but wanted to.

He exhaled slowly and let his head fall back against the cushion. One arm still around her, his other hand drifted beneath the blanket and found her wrist, thumb brushing gently against her skin.

///

The room was quiet now.

Outside, the wind had calmed, settling into a gentle hush as snow drifted steadily from the sky. Inside, the fire burned low—an amber flicker casting long, slow shadows across the wood-paneled walls. The candles had melted into puddles at their bases, the scent of wax and cedar still hanging faintly in the air.

Y/N stirred.

She blinked slowly, breath catching as her brain registered warmth. Not just from the fire—but from beneath her. Around her.

Soft cotton brushed her cheek.

A rhythmic rise and fall pressed against her ear.

She was warm—warmer than she had been in days.

And then… she realized why.

She was in Harry’s lap.

Her entire body, tucked up in the fetal position, was curled over him like he was a makeshift mattress. Her head rested against his chest, right over his heart. One of his arms cradled her back, the other resting lazily on the armrest. Her legs were folded across the couch cushions—but she was definitely on him.

Panic flared first. Sharp and fast.

She jolted upright a little too quickly, like she’d just realized she’d been snuggling the devil himself. “Oh my god,” she breathed.

Harry, still half-asleep, cracked one eye open. His lashes were mussed, his curls a soft halo around his face, and his T-shirt was wrinkled from the weight of her cheek. He looked far too good for someone just waking up.

A crooked smirk curved his lips. “Well, well,” he murmured, voice deep and sleep-slicked. “Look who decided to wake up.”

She stared at him, still trying to get her brain to reboot. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

“You were out cold,” he said, stretching slightly beneath her. “Didn’t move when I shifted. Or when the fire popped. Or when I put the blanket back on you.”

“I—” She paused, biting her lip. “I thought I fell asleep on the couch.”

He blinked. “You did. I just happened to be part of it.”

She groaned and flopped forward again, face hitting his chest with a muffled thud. “God. This is humiliating.”

“Disagree,” he said lightly, his fingers brushing her arm through the blanket. “You’re surprisingly cuddly.”

“I’m cold,” she mumbled into his shirt.

“You’re clingy,” he corrected.

“You’re annoying.”

“And yet, here we are.”

His arm was still around her—loose, casual, but firm enough to remind her just how close they’d gotten. Her hand was resting on his stomach, blanket slipped halfway off her shoulder, and she hadn’t even noticed.

She thought about pulling away again. She really did.

But the fire was barely burning, and his chest was warm, and his voice sounded like home in a way it had absolutely no right to.

So she stayed.

Harry didn’t say anything more. Just shifted a little to give her more room, then leaned his head back and exhaled softly through his nose. His fingers trailed slow, absentminded circles on the back of her sweatshirt—barely-there movements, rhythmic and comforting.

Y/N's pulse thudded louder in her ears.

This wasn’t just convenience. This wasn’t just about staying warm.

It was something else.

Eventually, she whispered, “You’re not… what I thought you were.”

Harry tilted his head just enough to glance down at her. “No?”

“I mean, you are. Kind of. But also not.”

He chuckled. “That clears it up.”

She pulled the blanket higher. “I mean… I thought you were all talk. Just ego and flirting and jokes.”

“I am.”

“But you’re also…” She trailed off.

Softer.

Sweeter.

Steadier than she wanted to admit.

Harry smiled lazily. “You can say devastatingly charming. I won’t stop you.”

She elbowed him lightly. “Shut up.”

He laughed again—low and genuine—and this time it tugged something loose in her chest.

For a while, they didn’t say anything. Just laid there, tangled under the blanket, breathing in sync.

Y/N’s eyes began to droop again. Her fingers curled loosely into the hem of his T-shirt. Harry’s hand never stopped tracing her back. The fire crackled, and somewhere between the silence and the comfort, she let herself drift off again

/

The morning sunlight crept in slow and honeyed, stretching long arms across the hardwood floors and casting warm halos around the quiet room. The fire had burned down to ash, leaving only a faint smell of smoke and the chilled hush of a new day. But still, there was warmth.

Because of him.

Y/N stirred, her face nestled against smooth cotton and bare skin. Her cheek rested squarely on Harry’s chest—his shirt nowhere in sight. One of his arms was tucked behind his head, the other curled tightly around her waist, anchoring her to him. Her thigh draped across his, tangled under the thick blanket that had slipped slightly to reveal the sculpted lines of his stomach.

She blinked slowly.

Took in the rise and fall of his chest beneath her ear. The way his hand rested just beneath her ribs. His scent—soap, firewood, and something inherently him.

And for the briefest, most dangerous moment… she smiled.

It was peaceful. Soothing.

Safe.

And then—the creak.

The front door groaned against the cold.

Voices.

Footsteps crunching snow on the porch. A laugh. A loud, familiar one.

Her heart stopped.

She jolted upright like she’d been electrocuted. “Oh my God—”

Harry stirred, a low sleepy groan rumbling in his chest. “What—?”

She was already wriggling out of his arms, panicking, shoving the blanket aside with a flurry of limbs and regret. Her bare foot hit the cold floor. “Shit, shit, shit—”

“Y/N?” he mumbled, voice gravelly and dazed.

Too late.

The door flew open with a ding from the old bell overhead, and cold air rushed in.

Jessica stomped into the cabin first, wrapped in a marshmallow of a puffer coat, cheeks flushed from the snow. “Y/N! You’re still alive!”

Y/N, halfway to standing, scrambled upright and grabbed the nearest throw blanket, hugging it around her like armor. She forced a tight smile, trying not to breathe like she’d just been sprinting across landmines.

“Hey,” she choked out. “Glad you made it safely.”

Behind Jessica, a second girl stepped inside—shaking snow from her coat, eyes bright and curious.

Taylor.

Long, shiny waves of chestnut-brown hair framed her face like a shampoo commercial. Her skin glowed against the cold, and her bright blue eyes immediately scanned the room like she was taking inventory of the space—and the people in it. 

Y/N felt her stomach twist.

Not because Taylor wasn’t nice. But because she was perfect. The kind of effortless pretty that made you question your own reflection. And the way she looked at Harry when her eyes landed on him?

Well. That said enough.

Harry, who was only just now sitting up, blinked blearily, shirtless and still blanket-wrapped. His curls were messy. His voice was thick with sleep. “Morning…”

Taylor stopped mid-step, jaw slightly slack.

Jessica’s brows rose as her eyes ping-ponged from Harry’s bare chest to Y/N’s flustered appearance.

“Did we interrupt something?” Jessica asked, too casual to be casual.

Y/N snorted—too loud, too fake. “No. No! God, no. I was just… up early. Reading.”

Taylor blinked slowly, eyes still glued to Harry like she hadn’t heard a word. “Hi,” she said, smiling. “You must be Harry.”

Harry rubbed his eyes, squinting toward the sound of her voice. “Uh… I think so?”

Jessica smirked. “He’s usually a little more charming once he’s fully conscious.”

Taylor giggled, stepping farther into the room, but Harry’s gaze had already drifted past her—landing briefly on Y/N.

She wasn’t looking at him.

She was looking anywhere but him.

Still, he caught the way her fingers clenched tighter around the blanket at her chest. The flush across her cheeks that wasn’t from the cold.

Y/N turned her back quickly, darting toward the kitchen, mumbling something about tea.

Jessica didn’t miss it.

Behind her, Harry stood, blanket slipping down slightly as he stretched. His skin glowed in the morning light, shadows cutting across his arms and torso like artwork. Taylor’s stare was hungry. Obvious.

“Ohh its so cold in here” Taylor sad sweetly.

Harry yawned and reached for his shirt. 

“Yeah. I’ll go grab some more firewood.”

As he padded past, Taylor turned to watch him, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip just slightly.

Y/N, from the kitchen, poured water into the kettle a little too forcefully.

Jessica leaned against the counter, one eyebrow cocked. “You good?”

“Peachy,” Y/N muttered.

Jessica smirked. “You’re glowing.”

Y/N gave her a look. “I’m actually coming down from high after thinking someone was breaking in to kill us.”

“Uh huh.”

Behind them, the door creaked again as Harry stepped into the back room to get firewood, and Taylor moved a little further just to watch him. 

Y/N stared down at the tea kettle, face tight.

Jessica studied her best friend for a moment, then casually said, “So You and didn't kill each other?" 

[azsazz]

Shining Armor (Part 2)

Knight!Azriel x Princess!Reader (Rhysand's Sister)

Summary: For @sapphirelunawolfie who said "Knight!Az x Princess!Reader" and inspired me 💙

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence.

Word Count: 1841

Notes: This eats I'm not even going to lie.

_________________________________________

Azriel doesn’t know why you’re here.

Here, in the middle of the Night Court King’s throne room.

Here, sitting on a throne of your own, placed slightly behind your father’s.

Here, where there is a noticeably absent seat on the dais.

He stands at your side, stiff as a board, hand perched on the hilt of his sword. He studies the room with rapt attention. How straight Rhysand sits on his own throne, instead of the usual blasé way he lounges during a ball. The longing glances you keep taking at the empty throne beside your father’s. The sharp jaw and angry eyes of the King. The way his golden rings dig into the wooden armrests of his seat.

The pale sliver of skin on his fourth finger where a ring used to sit.

The setting sun cascades through the stained-glass windows near the ceiling. Blots of color paint the walls. Azriel knows exactly which pane paints the room crimson. He memorized the tales behind each and every one of the eight windows lined perfectly beside each other long ago. This particular artwork always seemed to scream bad omens in his ears, and the hair at his nape stands on end.

Azriel blames it on the icy cold chainmail.

He doesn’t want you here. Not when you’re in mourning. Not when he can hear the soft sniffles you’re trying to stifle.

He hates the King for this, for summoning you, Rhysand, and his retinue when the entire Court is in misery.

Whatever is going to happen here tonight, it must be important.

King Dornan sits so still on his throne he looks like the gargoyles perched on every terrace of the castle. His violet eyes are hard, filled to the brim with bloodthirsty vengeance. His black cape drapes carelessly over his shoulder, spilling down the side of his throne as if he stormed in here twenty minutes ago and barked out orders to gather everyone closest to the family, and to arrive as quickly as possible.

Cassian stands beside Rhys, just as confused. Rhysand had been visiting you when one of the King’s messengers raced down the hall, startling the two knights standing guard outside your room. Azriel and Cassian had been conversing softly when the scrawny boy came running by. His steps echoed so loudly in the hall he heard you and your brother quiet on the other side of the door.

Their hands had found their swords quickly, and the boy would have been dead if they hadn’t recognized him the split second, he rounded the corner. Azriel and Cassian were the best trained knights in the kingdom with the exception of Rott, the King’s personal guard. The boy had been a panting mess, his blue eyes terrified as he delivered the summons.

The doors to the chamber swing open with an angry force that makes Azriel itch to throw himself in front of you, to protect you from the army of guards that whip into the room. The metal of their armor clangs loudly, but it’s the screams that pierce Azriel’s ears that really have him on edge. He wants you out of here, right the fuck now.

It’s not the first sentencing you’ve attended, but it’s the first sentencing you’ve attended since your mother’s murder only a few nights prior. You were supposed to be with her that fateful night, but she had convinced you to stay and keep your father company, sit with him in the lounge and challenge him in a game of chess while she went to visit Rhysand a few villages over.

She never made it. And you haven’t left your bed chamber since.

The guards drag two wailing men between them. Immediately, Azriel knows what’s happening. The lack of a public viewing, the quickness in which the King called for you and your brother.

These are the men that killed your mother, and the King is about to make his revenge a family affair.

Azriel fights the urge to whisk you through the secret door in the back of the room. You don’t need to see this, you’ve been through enough this week. You should be resting, mourning in your rooms while he stands just outside the door, his heart rattling behind his chest plate at every sob he pretends he doesn’t hear.

He’s wanted to burst inside and console you for days, but that is not his role. He doesn’t think about you, the Princess of the Night Court. He’s hardly even supposed to talk to you, but he can’t deny the magnetism that draws him to you. He’s intrigued, and as the knight from the top of his class, the one that holds one of the highest positions in the King’s eyes, should not be thinking of you more than a duty.

“Azriel,” the King calls. He doesn’t startle, but his breath shallows slightly in surprise. Not enough for anyone to notice.

You twist in your chair, brows furrowed in confusion. He doesn’t know why he’s being summoned, either, but he waits for one of the guards lining the walls to fill his place before he takes the few steps to join the King at his side.

It’s Bryaxis that takes his spot. Azriel doesn’t like taking leave from your side, but if there’s anyone who is as serious at his job as he is, it’s Bryaxis. He has the build, custom-made armor hangs from his large frame, nearly double the size of Azriel.

You want to reach out and snag Azriel’s hand as he passes. You don’t understand what’s going on, why your father is requesting his presence. You don’t like anything that’s happened this past week, and worry digs into your chest. You don’t want anything else to happen.

“Yes, my King?” Azriel answers once he reaches the throne. He stares straight ahead like a loyal soldier, awaiting his orders.

“Cassian,” the King calls, ignoring Azriel.

Despite knowing not to interrupt his father, Rhysand murmurers a confused, “Father?”

Again, the request for attention is denied. The King glares down at the two men who have been forced to their knees before the dais. A steady flow of blood patters to the stone beneath their curled forms. One of the guards behind the perpetrators digs his fingers into the matter black hair on the top of his head and yanks. With a sharp grunt, the man’s head is wrenched up, and all Azriel can focus on is your gasp of shock behind him.

Half of the man’s face is split open, almost right down the center. One of his eyes is completely gone, bludgeoned from its socket. Blood pours rivulets down his bare chest, stripped of everything except his raggedy pants. The blackening liquid dries in his chest hair.

The second man is face down on the floor. Azriel’s not sure if he’s already dead, but when the King demands him to wake and the knights closest to him begin prodding him roughly with the tips of their steel-lined boots, his lashes flutter.

These are the men that killed the Queen. Your mother. They’re poor excuses for men, trying to disguise themselves by rolling around in the dirt and thinking they’d blend with the villagers. King Dornan hasn’t let any of his soldiers sleep until they were found, interrogated, and executed.

And, well, the throne room is definitely dressed for an execution.

The King eases slightly in his chair, and with a flick of his jeweled hand, he orders Azriel and Cassian. “Avenge the Cunningham’s for the loss of our beloved Queen.”

Neither he nor Cassian hesitate. They step down the dais at equal pace, their boots thundering loudly, menacingly, with each step they take. Their swords croon a taunting lullaby as they unsheathe them, and the men on the floor beg and plead an infantile song in reply.

They should hold their breath. There is no changing the Kings mind.

The only person Azriel is worried about is you. He wishes he could turn around to see the look on your face, to see how you’re faring with this order. He wants to look you in the eye as he kills the man who did the very same to your mother. He’s doing this for you.

He and Cassian are fortitudes of marble. They’re been trained to feel nothing, used to slay enemies and traitors alike for the King, until he and his wife deemed their skillset perfect for protecting his children. King Dornan wanted nothing but the best for his family. Protection. Intelligence. Togetherness.

And these men took that from you.

The man on the floor doesn’t move, accepting his fate. Cassian stares harshly at the man, disgusted. He’d prefer it if her put up a fight, showed him what he was made of that night in the middle of the woods where they ambushed the Queen and her guards.

Azriel’s traitor tries. He fights against the wrought-iron chains that hold his arms behind his back. Even if he didn’t have them, Azriel wouldn’t care. He would be no match for the knight that stands before him, staring down at him like a Death God all his own.

Azriel knows why he’s been chosen with this task.

The steel of his blade meets little resistance when it hits the bone of the man’s neck. Blood splatters, and Azriel doesn’t make a sound. The man’s head teeters for a moment, as if it doesn’t know which way to topple to the stone. His face is frozen in shock. Within a second his head goes rolling to the floor, his body following with a wet thud.

Cassian’s blade is pulled from the lifeless man on the floor’s head with a slick noise.

Azriel watches, waits for the familiar shadowy slivers to slip from their bodies. No one in the room besides the King notices, which is why Azriel was chosen for this particular job. His fellow knights don’t know. You certainly don’t know why he stands over their bodies when Cassian has already spun on his heel and knelt to his King, but you are curious.

Finally, two razor-thin plumes rise from the bodies. Their souls.

Azriel summons the shadows from the corners of the room. They follow obediently, following the cracks and shadows on the floor, behind guards, beneath his boots to consume the souls of the men who have committed the ultimate act of treason.

Their screams still ring in his ears, but they’re silenced by the mass of other souls Azriel rules over. Now, they’re his. Should the King request it, he can pluck them out of the river of black that follows him everywhere he goes.

When the ringing stops, Azriel turns on his heel and lowers himself to the ground, resting his hands on the hilt of his sword and dipping his chin. “My King,” he says, and with those words, his King knows the deed is done.

“You may rise,” King Dornan says with the hint of a sinister smile on his lips.

[starmocha]

to: my true love [Sylus/Reader ★ 1680 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Sylus receives a special surprise in his study. A/N: The Sagittarius in me told me to do something impulsive again, and I lowkey already regret it lol So…a mini series of twelve days of Christmas/winter-themed standalone ficlets with all four LIs (3 mini stories for each; no Caleb, sorry, I want to wait until I’m more familiar with his character before I write him). This lowkey may be me trying to find joy in Christmas again lol ヾ(✿˶◡‿◡)ゞ Tag list: @miudle @alfredosaws @nezukoo-channn @voidsylus @rose-tinted-kalopsia 【 request to be added 】

You were going to kill Luke and Kieran, you decided decisively, as you stood outside Sylus’ study, your hand wrapped around the doorknob, trembling uncontrollably and filled with anxiety worse than any other instances in your life.

A bet was a bet.

And you lost.

Tremendously.

They must have cheated, you thought, positive that those no-good tricksters definitely rigged the card game. Of course, you knew you were also a complete dumbass for ever having faith that residents of the N109 Zone would ever play fair in anything.

You were still going to kill them.

Knock-knock.

Your fragile heart practically burst out of your chest when you heard the knocking. Immediately, your head whipped up, completely mortified to see Luke looming over you and cheerfully rapping against the door with the back of his hand while you were silently fuming just seconds ago. Even though he was wearing his mask, you were positive he was sporting the most nefarious smirk ever.

“Come in,” Sylus’ calm, deep voice called out.

You gasped, feeling a hand over yours. You looked to your other side just as Kieran ‘helped’ you opened the door, and before you knew it, both twins gleefully shoved you into Sylus’ study before slamming the door shut. You stumbled forward, barely catching your balance before you realized what had happened.

“Who is it—”

Sylus looked up and paused. His expression didn’t appear to change, staying neutral just as always, but perhaps someone with a keener eyesight would notice the gleam of intrigue in his scarlet eyes the moment he had laid his sight on you.

You kept your eyes lowered as you stood in Sylus’ study, dressed in a bright red sleeveless Christmas dress with white fur trimming that lined around the bottom of the skirt and over your bust. Around your middle was a thick black belt and atop your head was a matching Santa Claus hat, its end dangling over your downcast face. You stared down at the black knee-high boots you wore, feeling completely mortified. You could practically feel your soul leaving your body as you felt Sylus’ intense stare on you.

“J-Jinglegram,” you greeted meekly.

You flinched when you heard Sylus’ amused chuckles.

“I-I see,” he responded, a hint of bafflement heard in his tone, but overall, he seemed delighted.

You, on the other hand, wanted to die. Preferably instantly.

Sylus cleared his throat, his voice sounding extra cordial than normal. “So…what is a ‘jinglegram’?”

You whimpered pathetically, nearly glowering when you could have sworn you heard the bastard twins snickering outside the room. Clearing your throat, you started to sing very stiffy: “On…the first day of…Christmas…my true love gave to me…”

You peeked up and you felt your face had instantly turned crimson. Sylus was leaning against the armrest of his chair, his fist held over his mouth as if he was stifling his laughter, but his eyes betrayed his amusement. They were practically sparkling with delight.

“…a partridge in a pear tree…” you finished glumly.

He clapped, seemingly encouraging you to continue. You felt a horrendous knot in your stomach, but you soldiered on.

“On the second day of Christmas…my true love—”

You fumbled, catching Sylus’ eyes brightening even more as you sang this one particular verse.

“…gave to me, two turtle doves,” Sylus helped you with his unique singing voice.

“…And a partridge in a pear tree,” you both finished together in a cacophony of mismatched notes and melody.

You winced, unsure if it was because of how mortified you were, or of how the lack of harmony between the two of you could easily be used as a form of torture. Not caring to find out, you quickly whirled around, intending on bolting right out of Sylus’ study and seeking a hole you could throw yourself into and just die in peace.

But Sylus had other plans.

“Not so fast, Miss Hunter.”

Dark red and black misty tendrils coiled around your waist and lifted you into the air with ease. You squeaked in shock as you were carried across the room and before you knew it, you landed with an undignified “oof” in Sylus’ lap.

Your hat fell, covering your eyes, but before you could react, Sylus had already helped you readjusted it. You looked up timidly, seeing his face full of joy. The way he was laughing and smiling almost reminded you of the night he and you had set free that little white dove he had cared for.

“So cute,” he murmured, almost as if he was speaking to himself, and you blushed. His thumb glided over your shiny red-glossed plump lips, admiring the way they trembled, almost as if they were beckoning him to steal a kiss or two, but he restrained himself. He continued in his soft, steady tone, “What have I done to receive this charming…‘jinglegram’?”

“Um…nothing…” you mumbled, feeling the heat spreading from your cheeks to the rest of your body. You squirmed a little, but Sylus held you firmly in place, not allowing you to leave his lap for even an inch. You looked down, seeing how one of his hands was absently caressing your thigh. You continued miserably, “…I lost a bet.”

“A bet?”

“To Luke and Kieran.”

“Ah.” Everything seemed to click into place, and Sylus leaned forward, burying his face into your hair as he laughed. “Perhaps I should give those two a Christmas bonus…”

You frowned. Pulling away, you turned to look at him, your faces just mere inches apart. “Do criminal organizations do Christmas bonuses?”

Sylus shook his head. “Of course not, sweetie,” he answered, “But…I think this warrant some sort of…rewards for them.”

“Rewards? For humiliating me?” you demanded, irate.

You gasped as Sylus lifted your chin lightly and kissed you deeply, his earlier self-control forgotten. He chuckled when you unconsciously gave in, returning his kiss with equal passion. He parted, but he pecked another kiss to your cheek. “Are you humiliated? But you look absolutely adorable in this outfit.”

Your face felt hotter. “You’re enjoying this way too much,” you griped.

“Mmhmm,” he hummed in agreement, unashamed. “Now…isn’t…‘Mrs. Claus’ here missing a ‘Mr. Claus’?”

Your stomach lurched at the implications in his teasing words. You covered your face with both hands. “No…no…no…we are not doing this!”

You felt the hat on your head yanked off. You looked up and saw Sylus had donned the hat he had just swiped from you. Plastered across his stupidly handsome face was the most insufferable smirk ever. He was completely enthralled by this entire ludicrous situation. You were definitely going to kill Luke and Kieran.

“Now if I recall,” he began, his tone light and playful, “the song is far from over. We still have quite a few verses to get through, don’t we, sweetie?”

You gaped, not quite registering his words just now.

He…looked really good with this hat on his head. Very cute. Very, very cute.

Maybe with a matching bright red coat that would be fitted to his deliciously toned body, and a pair of pants that would highlight his juicy ass, he could pull off that look. Would...would Sylus be willing to have a bit of a stubble, you wondered, already imagining him with one, and his face nuzzling against you, feeling the prickly hair against your smooth, soft skin, and oh shit—

You were doing a horrendous job of hiding your feelings today, because Sylus immediately noticed your reaction, his teasing growing increasingly merciless.

“Now, sweetie, have you been a… ‘good girl’ this year?”

You flustered. “What are you—”

“Since you’re already sitting on my lap,” he said suggestively, “don’t you want to tell… ‘Santa’ what you want for this year?”

“You are such a prick.”

Sylus laughed. “Naughty, naughty,” he chided, giving your thigh a light smack and making you yelped in surprise.

“We are not doing this, Sylus!” you protested, face redder than your dress.

He shrugged and leaned back in his seat with a defeated sigh. “Very well,” he conceded, a hint of disappointment heard in his tone. He smiled at you half-heartedly before speaking, “You really are a good girl, aren’t you, Miss Hunter?”

You knew he had meant it genuinely this time, but you couldn’t help but felt something when he had called you a ‘good girl’. This was getting out of hand. Was this what those no-good twins wanted to happen? For you to be down bad for their boss. What on earth was their endgame—

Sylus was humming the earlier Christmas song again, the sound cutting your raving thoughts to a grinding halt. He smiled at you pleasantly, apparently unaware of your inner turmoil.

“On the third day of Christmas,” he ‘sang,’ his jovial tone hinting for you to join him. There was a noticeable pause, and Sylus gave you a gentle nod, silently encouraging you to pick up where he had left off.

You smiled helplessly, his genuine happiness spreading to you. “…my true love gave to me,” you continued.

“Three French hens / Two turtle doves,” you both sang together, half-laughing, before finishing strongly, “And a partridge in a pear tree!”

You slumped against him, giggling and forgetting your earlier embarrassment. Sylus’ arms tightened around your waist, pulling you closer to his body, the familiar, comforting warmth calming you instantly. You gazed up at him, an idea forming in your head.

“Sylus?”

“Hmm?” He peered down at you, his eyes meeting yours, and his smile soft and sweet.

“We should give the twins a fruitcake,” you said, smiling wickedly, elaborating, “For their ‘Christmas reward’.”

“Two fruitcakes,” he corrected you with a knowing smirk, “One for each mischievous twin.”

You leaned up and kissed him, “Ah, my ‘true love’ is correct.”

He stifled a chuckle, his face buried in your hair again, as he husked, “Then are you my Christmas present for this year?”

“I’m yours for always.”

“How cute,” he whispered, tightening his hold on you, and you stayed like that, humming the rest of the song softly as you enjoyed each other’s presence.

[straylightdream]

across the room

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jeon wonwoo x f!chubby reader

I caught your eye across the room. No one can feel the tension between me and you. There's no need to mention all the things I wanna do. You wanna do 'em too. We both know we'd be over if they knew

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞(𝐬): friends to lovers, mutual pining, secret lovers, romance, angst, smut

𝐚𝐮(𝐬): nonidol

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6k

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: lots of body insecurities, cussing, mentions of drinking, angst, having to keep a “relationship” a secret, so much making out, open ending, wonwoo is kinda a former fuckboy.

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dry humping, oral (both rec), handjob, fingering, protected intercourse, multiple positions, couch sex, cum eating, snowballing?

𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+ nsfw

𝐚𝐧: wrote this a while ago and decided it was time to fully rework it.

🎧: hush hush - the band camino | talk fast - 5 seconds of summer

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

His hands held your face as your lips moved together. His lips were completely intoxicating as they moved against yours. There was something about this touch that just drove you absolutely wild. You’re sitting next to each other on your couch. Your fingers gripped his shirt holding him closer to you. He pulls his lips ways from yours and smirk plays across his lips. He well aware of how much he’s turning you on.

“What’s your endgame here?” You ask with your voice low.

“My goal is to have you naked on this couch,” he says completely serious.

“Is that right?” you ask raising your eyebrow.

You and Wonwoo had started this flirty thing a month ago. You’re complete opposites he’s a drop dead gorgeous man with the body of a Greek god you’re a chubby girl who hasn’t ever fooled around outside a relationship.

You felt like this is a game of cat and mouse and once he gets what he wants he’ll be done. This wasn’t the first time you had shared a steamy make out session. Normally things between you got a little handsy but nothing more.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours for a gentle kiss and pulled away resting his nose against yours.

“I think we’re wearing too much clothing,” his lips brushed against yours.

You were so turned on you were trying to think logically and not tear off your clothes and jump him.

“I think you need to behave,” you reached up resting your hand on his cheek.

“Baby you’re killing me,” he groaned, pulling away from you.

“I think you’ll live,” you smile as you rest your hand on his thigh.

“You’re giving me blue balls babe,” he leans forward and presses his lips to yours.

“I think we can have fun without taking our clothes off,” You say as your hand moves to his jean covered bulge.

A groan passed his lips you massaged him. Leaning forward he placed his hands on your soft sides and pulled you onto his lap.

You hadn’t ever sat on his lap before and you felt extremely self conscious about your weight. Your hips starting grinding against his. His lips were connected to your neck gently nipping at your skin. He pulls his lips away from your skin and holds your doughy sides helping move your hips. Your hands held his face so he was looking at you. Pulling off his glasses they set them on the table next to the couch. His dark eyes lust blown as he stared at you. His lips pressed to yours and as he pulled away he gently bit your bottom lip.

“Even if we don’t have sex can we shed some clothes?” his voice is low.

“Sure,” you say with every intention of keeping your clothes on but making sure he feels good.

Crawling off his lap you sit on your knees on the floor between his legs and look up at him with big doe eyes. His bottom lip is captured between his teeth as he stares down at you.

“What do you want to happen from here?” he putting the ball in your court.

“Take your pants off,” you say, attempting to sound sexy.

He stands up in front of you and quickly pushes down his jeans and boxers. His already hard cock springs free, he’s bigger than you imagined. You had seen Wonwoo shirtless, but you hadn’t ever seen him fully naked.

His pants are pushed down to his thighs and he is sitting there watching you in anticipation. He silently removed his shirt so he’s basically naked.

Sitting up you’re still sitting on your knees. Your hands rest on his thighs. You were going to be brave right now. Wonwoo’s one of the hottest men you have ever seen and he wanted you. Right then you wanted to make him feel good. Reaching forward you stroked his hardened length. A groan passed his lips as he closed his eyes.

Leaning forward you licked the underside of his excitement. His eyes popped open as he watched you take him into your mouth.

You take him as far back as you fully can until he’s touching the back of your throat.“Baby that feels so good,” he pushed his fingers through hair. Gently you bobbed your head as your hand helped work his length.

A slur of curse words passed his lips letting you know he was getting closer and closer to coming. You hadn’t given someone head in a really long time and you were worried you wouldn’t be good at it, but by the way he was saying your name he seemed like he was really enjoying it.

“Fuck-fu-“ you’re getting wet just by the sounds of his moans. “I’m coming-“ You have zero desire to pull off. You want him to fall apart in your mouth. You feel the warm liquid from his release in your mouth and swallow without even thinking about it.

He tugs your hair gently pulling you away. Looking up at him you run your tongue across your bottom lip.

He pulls you onto his lap and presses his lips to yours for a heated kiss. He doesn’t even care that he can taste himself on your lips.

“That was so hot,” he groans with his lips ghosting against yours.

“I wanted to make you feel good,” you say, feeling proud of yourself.

“You made me feel amazing,” he smiles as his hands move up your sides resting under your breast.

“Let me make you feel good,” he says, pulling your shirt up.

“It’s okay, how about next time?” you say as you push your shirt down.

His eyes brows knit together as he looks at you with a confused look. “Did I do something wrong?” He asks.

You shake your head and say, “I want to have sex with you, but I want to take this slow.”

You were taking things slow because you were afraid that he was going to run once he got what he wanted. You also had a fear that once he saw you naked he wouldn’t want to be with you. He was known for liking pretty skinny girls.

“Okay we can take it slow, but can I at least touch these,” he asked as his eyes were locked in your large breast.

Silently you nod. Reaching forward, his hands hold your breast. His bottom lip is captured between his teeth as he looks at you with a lust fueled look. As his hands grope your chest you fight back moaning. You want more desperately but you’re too afraid. His hand moves to the edge of your shirt and your eyes pop open quickly. You’re terrified of him seeing you without your shirt. You watch as his hand crawls under your shirt. His hand rested on your breast under your shirt and his touch felt electric. Hungry eyes stay locked on yours as his hands massages your breast. His lips connected to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses.

The sound of your phone ringing caught both your attention. Wonwoo looked up at you with wide eyes for a moment.

You wanted to ignore the call, but Wonwoo reached over and grabbed your phone. It’s Seungcheol’s name on your phone.

“I can send it to voicemail,” you say, still caught up in the moment.

“Answer it, he’ll start asking questions if you don’t.”

-

This whole “thing” between you and Wonwoo was a secret. Nobody in your friend group is aware that you two have something going on. Before this all started Wonwoo had been extremely vocal about not wanting to hook up with anyone in the friend group. You weren’t even exactly sure how this all started. It still blows your mind that he’s interested in you. You’re far from his normal type, and the moment you met him you couldn’t lie you had a crush on him. In the beginning it started with longing looks on your part. You couldn’t help but stare. He's just so pretty. It wasn’t long before he started staring back at you. You were completely caught off guard the first time he walked over and talked to you. Shortly after the longing looks he started touching you. They were innocent touches, like he would touch your arm while he spoke to you. When he started resting his hand on your thigh that’s when things started heating up.

You were at a party at Seungcheol’s house when things started to really change between you. It had been a couple weeks of him touching you, and you were standing in the kitchen talking while everyone was drinking throughout the house. You’re leaning against the counter and Wonwoo is standing right in front of you. You’re telling him some random story about when you had to take care of a very drunk Soonyoung. He seems like he’s barely paying attention to what you’re saying. His pretty eyes seem to be locked on your lips.

“Did you hear anything I just said?” you ask.

He shakes his head and lets out a nervous laugh. His little laugh always gave you butterflies.

“Should I leave you alone then?” you are curious as to why he isn’t paying attention to what you have to say.

Reaching up he pushes a piece of your hair behind your ear and you can’t help but smile at this simple gesture. He leans forward and his lips brush against your ear, “I can’t pay attention to you because I really want to kiss you.”

Your heart races at his words as you pull away from him and look up at him unsure if he’s being serious. He tilts his head to the side and gives you a smile. He is well aware of the effect he’s having on you.

“Why is that?”

“Because I can’t seem to think about anything other than what your pretty lips will feel like against mine,” he reaches out and touches your arms and you immediately get goose bumps.

“Then are you going to kiss me?”

He bites his bottom lip and pulls away from you. He takes his hat off and pushes his fingers through his hair. He seems oddly nervous which is extremely unlike him.

“I would like for that to be something private with us alone.”

You look around the house and see that it’s filled with all your friends, and you really didn’t want them in your business when it came to your “relationship/friendship” with Wonwoo.

“Well you can always meet me at my place later,” you say trying to be confident.

He smiled and nodded his head, “I’ll leave in ten minutes and then you leave in thirty minutes. I’ll meet you at your place.”

From your first kiss you knew you were in trouble when it came to Wonwoo.

-

You answer your phone and Seungcheol is asking if you can come over for a party he’s having. He mentions that Soonyoung and Mingyu are on their way and he’s gonna call Wonwoo next. You tell him you’ll be there in twenty. Hanging up your phone you slowly crawl off of Wonwoo, who is still basically naked on the couch.

He gives you a strange look as you reach on the coffee table and grab his phone that has just started ringing.

“He wants to hang, we probably shouldn’t show up together,” you trying to act like it doesn’t bug you that this whole thing is a secret.

Wonwoo takes the call and agrees to head over. He hangs up his phone and pulls his boxers and pants up and finishes getting dressed. You head off to your room to find something to wear. You were in nothing but a pair of leggings and a big shirt. Wonwoo stands in your doorway watching you as you pull out a sweater to wear.

“Did you want to head over together?” he asked.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” you ask knowing that the group will wonder why you drove over together.

“Probably not,” he says walking towards you.

“You should probably head over and I’ll meet you there,” you say as he stops in front of you. He looks down at and holds your face for a long moment before he leans down and presses his lips to yours for a heated kiss. Pulling away from you he smiles and says, “thank you for earlier. I need to return the favor.”

You stare at him unsure of what to say. Your body is screaming at you to tell him he can return the favor whenever, but your mind is too self conscious to say that.

“I’ll see you at Seungcheol’s,” you say, changing the subject.

“See you there,” he says before walking out of the apartment.

You hear your front door shut and you sit down on your bed and let out a heavy sigh before rubbing your face. You kept telling yourself that you needed to be confident when it comes to Wonwoo, that he clearly wants you, but you can’t help the walls that you have built up. You’ve had a few shitty ex boyfriends that have drained any self confidence you had.

Ten minutes after Wonwoo left your place you drove over to Seungcheol’s place. You’re greeted by Soonyoung and Mingyu hugging you, and Wonwoo gives you a simple hello as if he wasn’t naked on your couch not even a half hour ago. A bunch of the other boys have showed up. Vernon just arrived with his girlfriend and her roommate. In the living room everyone is sitting around drinking beer and hanging out. Standing in the kitchen with Soonyoung you can feel Wonwoo’s dark eyes on you. The tension between you is thick and you can’t help but wonder if the group has any clue if anything is going on.

Walking back into the living room you sit across from him.

You’re sitting on the couch when you feel your phone vibrate. Opening your phone you can’t help but smile as you read the text Wonwoo.

From Wonwoo: I would much rather have you naked right now.

Your cheeks burn as you read his text. You shoot him a look and he just smiles at you, well aware of what he’s doing.

“Come here,” Seungcheol says to catch your attention.

The rest of the evening you continue to hang out with the group. Wonwoo leaves long before you, he has dinner plans with some friends. The moment he leaves you feel all the sexual tension in your body is relieved.

You head home when the little party starts to die down. You head to your place and lay down in bed and scroll through your phone. You smile as you see you have a text from Wonwoo.

From Wonwoo: are you going to Soonyoung’s place tomorrow for the party?

From you: Yes I’ll be there.

It takes less than a minute before you receive another text from him that reads,

From Wonwoo: okay good. I think you should wear that pretty pink dress.

You know the exact dress he’s talking about. You wore it the night you shared your first kiss.

From you: Why should I wear that?

Another text quickly comes in that reads,

From Wonwoo: Because I’ll reward you with something that makes you feel good.

Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you read his text. You know exactly what he means and you have every single intention of wearing that dress. As you lay in bed you can’t wait to see Wonwoo tomorrow at the party. You know this is probably just a game of cat and mouse, but you think you’re finally ready to let something more really happen.

-

Loud music played throughout the house. Standing in Soonyoung’s backyard you watch your friends and lots of strangers were drinking and having a good time. Yuna standing next to you holding her drink she’s telling you about some dance audition she had earlier. Looking across the yard you find Wonwoo talking to Chan. Your eyes lock and he smiles at you. His dark eyes stay locked on you as he’s listening to Chan.

Yuna Notices right away that you aren’t fully paying attention and looks at you with a curious look. She asks you, “So who has your attention?”

You try your hardest not to panic as you look at her.You need to lie you can’t let her know you’re staring at Wonwoo.

“I was looking at Chan, he's over there talking with his hands and I was wondering what he was saying,” you lie.

“Oh,” she says, not bothering to ask you any more questions.

She walks inside to find Vernon and you make your way through the crowded house heading over towards the kitchen. You reach into the fridge and grab a bottle of water. You weren’t the type of person who really ever drank at these parties other than maybe one beer. Your friends tended to get a little crazy and sometimes needed someone to take care of them. Your whole life you had always been dubbed the mom friend, and from the moment you met Seungcheol and all your friends that didn’t change. You watch as Wonwoo and Chan are walking towards the kitchen.

“Hey (Y/N),” Wonwoo smiles.

“Hey boys,” you say looking over at Chan who is holding a beer.

“Where’s your drink?” Chan asks, noticing that you’re holding a bottle of water.

“I don’t feel like drinking tonight, and someone is going to have to make sure Soonyoung gets put to bed safely,” you say with a little laugh.

“Let’s be real, someone needs to take care of all their drunk asses,” Wonwoo says, shaking his head.

“I thought you were sober and not drinking tonight?” Chan asks.

“I think all of you need more than one person to take care of you,” you let out a little laugh.

“True,” Chan said before taking a drink of his beer.

Chan heads over to Swungkwan leaving you alone with Wonwoo. It’s rare that you and Wonwoo ever get a moment alone at an event with your friends. That might be why people don’t actually think something is going on between you. Literally nobody even has the slightest idea something is happening.

You’re leaning against the counter as he’s watching you. The tension between you is thick and you wish you could kiss him, but you knew that wasn’t an option. You don't need everyone in the room to know what’s going on between you.

“I see you wore the pink dress,” he says as his eyes travel up and down your soft body.

Looking down at your feet you can’t help but blush,”I wore it just for you.”

He steps closer to you so there isn’t much distance between you. Looking around you look to see if anyone is paying attention.

“I think I said that I would reward you for wearing this,” He leans closer as he whispers loud enough for only you to hear.

“Is that promise?” you look into his dark eyes that already look lust blown.

He nods and steps away from you. A shiver runs down your spine as he smirks at you.

“I look forward to that later,” you walk away from him. You feel his eyes on you as you walk off towards the bathroom. You need a moment alone, he managed to leave you feeling extremely flustered without even trying.

Walking into the bathroom you shut the door and took a deep breath. The sound of someone knocking on the door catches your attention.

“One minute,” you say softly. Whatever drunk girl that needed to use the restroom could wait a minute.

“It’s Wonwoo, let me in,” you hear him say on the other side.

Reaching forward you unlock the door and step back. He steps inside and shuts the door and locks it. You know this is dangerous that someone could have seen him come into the bathroom with you.

Leaning against the bathroom counter as he walks towards you like a hunter stalking his prey. He grips your soft hips and helps you sit on the edge of the bathroom counter. He stands between your legs and his large hands rest on your soft thighs.

“I need to kiss you,” he says leaning forward so his lips brush against yours.

“Then kiss me,” you say feeling bold.

He leans into your lips and wrapping your arms around his neck. Your lips move together and you thank god that he joined you in the bathroom. You weren’t sure if you would ever get over the feeling of his lips on yours. Never in your life have you ever felt the sparks you felt when you kissed Wonwoo. Pulling his lips away from yours he gently tugged on your bottom lip and you couldn't help the soft moan that passed your lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he groans with his lips ghosting yours.

“You’re beautiful too,” you say. You aren’t sure you’ll ever get out how pretty he is.

“As soon as this party is over I’m going to make you feel good,” he says as he rubs your thigh under your dress. He leaves you wanting more as he pulls his hand away from your skin.

“Okay,” you say softly.

He leans forward and presses his lips to yours for another kiss before stepping away. You watch as he leaves the bathroom and you stay in there for a couple minutes hoping people wouldn’t notice you’re in there together.

Walking out of the bathroom you look around hoping nobody noticed you leaving shortly after Wonwoo.

The house is filled with too many people you didn’t know and loud music. You wander around alone contemplating how long you had to stay before acceptably being able to leave. You look off into the kitchen to find Wonwoo talking to Chan once again. As he watches you walk by you can feel his eyes burning into you. You find Yuna and Mia sitting on the couch and you walk over and sit next to them. They’re talking about Mia and Seokmin’s wedding and you know this is the perfect topic to keep your mind off of Wonwoo.

An hour passes when you notice Wonwoo is no longer at the party. He’s always been the type of person who leaves a party without telling anyone. You thought this situation might be a little different though.

At midnight you take this as your opportunity to say your goodbyes to the group. You drive home and you can’t help but feel a little nervous about seeing Wonwoo.

-

Laying in your bed you can’t seem to fall asleep. You’re on edge waiting to hear from Wonwoo in some capacity.

At two in the morning you butterflies fill your stomach at a text from him.

From Wonwoo: Can you pick me up?

You know that he wants you to pick him but because if anyone drives by and sees his car at your apartment at two in the morning it will be obvious that something is going on.

From you: can be there in ten. Meet me outside.

You’re playing with fire and you’re well aware of that. Since this thing started between you and Wonwoo you hadn’t ever picked each other up in the middle of the night. You knew that this wasn’t just going to be you guys hanging out and making out. Wonwoo had promised to make you feel good, and you knew that consisted of you taking your clothes off.

The drive to Wonwoo’s apartment is short and you find him outside waiting for you. You pull up to the curb and he jumps in and leans over to press his lips to yours for a soft kiss.

As you start driving he reaches over and rests his hand on your thigh. His thumb gently brushes against your skin sending a shiver down your spine.

The short drive to your place seems to drag on. It feels like an eternity as you pull into your parking spot.

Slowly getting out of your car you shut the door and take a deep breath. You watch as Wonwoo walks towards the front door. You’ve never been happier that you live alone.

Opening the door you walk inside. Looking over at the clock near the door it reads 2:45am. You know that this isn’t going to be an innocent make out session. He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks at you with lust filled eyes.

Taking a deep breath you tell yourself that you are ready for this. That you’re brave, that you’re a confident woman who loves her own body and is ready for this.

“Why do I feel like you’re overthinking this?” He steps towards you.

“Because I totally am overthinking everything right now,” you nervously smooth your dress down.

He reaches up and rests his hand on your arm and his dark eyes lock on yours, “what are you thinking about?”

Silently you stare at him for a long moment. You know you need to be honest with him. “What happens after tonight?”

He pushes his hand through his hair and stares back at you before he says, “what do you mean?”

“What happens after I finally have sex with you? Are we over because the thrill of the chase is over?” you hated that what you were asking was so brutally honest but you needed to know.

“Do you really think that little of me?” he says as if he is pretty hurt by your question.

“I’m trying to be realistic here. I know damn well I’m not your type,” your building up a wall in an attempt to save yourself.

He takes your face in both his hands and says, “this isn’t some game to me. I want you, because I really like you. This isn’t just about trying to have sex with you.” Butterflies flutter around your stomach as he leaves you at complete loss of words.

“Okay,” you say softly.

Leaning forward he presses his lips to yours while he’s still holding your face. Your lips move together for a heated kiss. The room feels like it’s spinning as you get wrapped up in his touch. His hands slowly move from holding your face to resting on your neck. Pulling your lips away from him you take a slow breath as you stare at him with lust blown eyes. He licks his lips as a smile plays on his face. He steps back and pulls his shirt off. The sight of him standing shirtless in front of you makes your mouth water.

“God how are you even real,” you groan as you reach out dragging your hands down his abs that seem to be cut from marble.

“I workout a lot,” he says ever so casually.

“I’m well aware,” you shake your head and look up at him.

“I see you’re still wearing the dress,” his hand moved up so they’re playing with the edge of your sleeve.

You nod silently.

“Can we take this off?”

You want to say no, but you need to be brave. He’s made this very clear that this isn’t some game to him.

“Yeah.”

He steps behind you and slides the zipper slowly down the back of your dress. You feel the cool air against your skin. You close your eyes as he reaches up and moves the dress of your shoulders. You stand in a pool of fabric and the cool air against your skin is a reminder of how bare you are.

The feeling of his lips against your bare shoulder snaps you out of your thoughts. Instinctually you wrap your arms across your stomach. His lips move to the side of your neck kissing the right spot that he knows drives you wild. With his lips ghosting your skin he says, “you’re so pretty.”

Your eyes pop open when you feel his lips move away from your skin. He stands in front of you as his dark eyes travel up and down your soft body. You’re on full display, and you’re worried he isn’t going to like what he sees.

“Thank you for trusting me,” he says as he works on unbuckling his belt.

You reach up and unclasp your bra, and work on taking it off as he takes off his pants, and his shoes.

You're both standing there in nothing but your underwear and your heart starts to race at what is going to come next. His lips are once again on your neck, but this time his hand hungry hands are roaming your curvy body. Biting your lips you hold back a moan as his lips move down to take one of your hardened nipples into his mouth. Your back arches against him craving his touch.

“We need to get to my bed or the coach,” you moan.

He removes his lips from your skin and smiles. Reach down, he takes your hand and leads you over to the couch. You sit down on the scene of your earlier crime where you gave him head yesterday. You watch as Wonwoo quickly walks over to his jeans that are on the floor where you had just been standing. He pulls a condom out of his wallet and tosses it back into the puddle of clothing on the floor. He walks back over to the couch and sets the foil packets on the coffee table and looks over at you for a moment.

“Do you want to continue?” he asks. You silently nod. “Please tell me you want more,” he says.

“Wonwoo I want every single part of you.”

“Okay,” he says as he pushes his boxers down. He once again stands in front of you completely naked and you aren’t sure if you’ll ever get over the sight of him naked. You fully understand why all women and men that encounter him always talk about how hot he is.

You stand up taking this as your cue to lose your own underwear. Hooking your fingers into your panties you push them down your thick thighs.

“Sit down on the couch,” he says.

Silently you listen and sit down on the couch. He kneels in front of you and looks at you like he’s about to eat you alive, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on to no end. His hands rest on each of your knees and push them apart slowly. He reaches up and grabs your butt pulling you closer to the edge of the couch. He kisses his way up your inner thigh until his lips brush the top of your mound. Closing your eyes you fight back moaning as he licks your already wet slit. Your fingers tangle in his hair as he laps at your bundle of nerves. He adds one of his long fingers into the mix. It’s not long before he has you completely on the edge and moaning his name. Another finger is added as he sucks on your clit. This man is very good with his fingers and his mouth. Your eyes about roll back in your head as the coil in your stomach feels like it’s tightening.

Tangling your fingers in his dark hair you hold him close to your wet core. “Won-“ his name is a broken cry as you're so close to the edge you can taste it. “Please-“

Your orgasm feels like a white hot wave as you come against his mouth.

Coming down from your high you stare at him with lust filled eyes. He stands sporting a proud smile at his handy look.

“I promised you I would make you feel good.”

Reaching down he picks up the foil packet and tears it open with his teeth. Your breathing is still uneven as you watch him slide the rubber down his hardened length. Sitting his glasses down on the coffee table. He sits down on the couch next to you, and automatically connects his lips to yours for a searing kiss. His fingers tangle in your hair as he moves to pull you onto his lap. You’re hovering over his cock as your lips continue to move together. Pulling your lips away from his you bit your bottom lip as you rest your hand on his tone chest. His hand moves to your soft hips and stares into your eyes as he guides you down his straining cock. Closing your eyes you moan as he stretches you in the best way possible. He bottoms out leaving you sitting on his thighs. Silently you stare at him taking in the feeling of him stretching you. He feels as if he was made for you. Reach up, taking his face in your hands and say, “oh my god you feel amazing.”

“Baby you feel incredible,” he groans.

Slowly you start moving your body up and down his length. His hands stay resting on your sides helping to guide your movement.

Your lips crash together and you roll your hips into his. This felt just like you hoped it would. Your hand talon into his shoulders as you moan into his lips. With each movement he’s pushing you closer and closer to the edge. He’s so big he’s stretching in the most delicious way.

His lips move down your next leaving a trail of gentle nips and wet kisses. All the oxygen feels like it’s being sucked out of the room as the coil in your stomach is tightening. Your finger snakes down and rubs your sensitive clit. All the nerves in your body feel like they’re alive as you’re getting closer and closer to the edge.

His dark eyes are locked on yours as he reaches up, taking your face in his hands. You close your eyes you roll your hip faster. Your knees are starting to burn but you don’t even care. You desperately want to come. “Look at me,” he groans. Opening your eyes. You stare at him as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. He thrusts up to meet each of your movements. He’s hitting just the right place as he lifts his hips thrusting into you.

When he pushes you over the edge you see stars. Your whole body burns and everything feels so warm. Throwing your head back you moan his name riding out your high. You roll your hips trying to help him find his own release. He catches you off guard when he moves both of you so you’re flat on your back and he’s hovering over you. He pauses for a moment. Leaning down, crashing his lips into yours. Pulling away he slides into you again. He rolls his hips into you over and over as you high wash over you.

Reaching up you tangle your fingers in his hair pulling him close to you. Your lips move together as his thrust grows sloppier. He groans your name as he finds his release.

He collapses on top of you and you can’t help but smile. He stays there for a long moment before he pulls himself of you. Slowly he walks off to the bathroom and discards the condom before walking back over and sitting on the couch next to you.

“Did you maybe want to lay in your bed together?” he asks, catching you off guard.

You nod your head and smile. You take his hand and lead him off to your room. Laying down in bed Wonwoo lays close to you and pulls your soft body close to his. It’s not long before you fall asleep in his arms. You aren’t sure what any of this means but you hope maybe one day you and Wonwoo can have something more than secret little moments together.

If you have asked to be tagged I request that you please reblog. If you could leave comments and or tags that would be greatly appreciated.

[sparkles-rule-4eva]

Thinking about this scene again, because do y'all understand??

This scene is one-of-a-kind.

This scene will never happen again.

And we could never, I mean never, get a scene like this in the games.

Because what do you mean Sonic and Shadow sat quietly together and genuinely talked about their trauma?

There was none of the banter that the game versions typically share. None of the pettiness or trying to outdo one another. None of the preconceived notions of each other's personalities that barred their potential friendship.

This scene, and those that followed, was what made the movie dynamic between these two my favorite, tied only with Sonic Prime.

This scene is quiet, tranquil, surprisingly so; considering only moments before this they were fighting to the death and Sonic nearly beat Shadow to death with his bare hands, and Shadow had wanted him to do it.

This scene is haunted with grief. But it's also brimming with raw, honest emotion. Seeing that kind of mood in a scene with just these two is absolutely amazing.

However talkative our little Sonic Wachowski can be, it was Shadow who broke the silence here. Sonic was understandably shaken by his own behavior, but still. He told Shadow the one simple thing, the reason he hadn't killed him when he easily could've: "There are no winners with revenge." And then he fell silent.

The way they sat silently, each lost in their own memories and grief, either staring at the ground or the stars.

Shadow broke the silence. It had provided the opportunity for open, honest communication. He was already his own mess, having seen what Sonic was going through. He'd initially used it to justify his own behavior, saying that Sonic had no right to fault him for dealing with his pain the way he was, since Sonic was making the same choices. Except in the end, when it really mattered, Sonic did make the right choice. He set the example on accident.

Completely isolated from anything that could possibly interrupt them, in literal space, Shadow finally had the freedom to share his trauma with someone who understood. Someone who'd lost his own loved one, and was in the position of possibly losing another. Shadow didn't ask for answers at first. He simply shared the memory of sitting with Maria under the stars, like they were in the present. He expressed his side in a way that no longer tried to justify it. He just said it as it was.

"I've felt this pain for so long... it's all I know."

Sonic didn't immediately try to correct him. He didn't even say that there was a better way, in that moment. Instead, he empathized with him. He understood. He validated him, without justifying all the violent things Shadow had done.

"When I lost Longclaw, I felt the same way."

And with that, Shadow had it in stone that Sonic had been through the same thing. So he asked a simple, quiet, invisibly desperate question.

"Did your pain eventually go away?"

They still weren't looking at each other. They were sharing some of the deepest, most painful parts of themselves with one another. The words were vulnerable enough, to the point eye contact would've been too much. But the words were the most important part.

Sonic barely hesitated when he replied, "No." He wasn't going to pretend or lie. There was no reason to, no point, and all the walls he'd previously had up were torn down by the day's events. But he did have something to share. It had been likely around 12-13 years since Longclaw died, and even though Sonic had been so young when it happened, he had taken something away from it all. To the present day, he had continued to honor her memory by trying to make her proud in how he lived.

He expressed that in the beginning of the second movie. He timidly asked Tom if she'd be proud early in this same movie. It had never stopped being important to him.

Because he'd loved her. And that was the lesson he shared with Shadow, pulled straight from his own painful experiences. It wasn't even a "live the way she would've wanted" type of encouragement. It was "you loved her and she loved you. So focus on that. Hold onto that memory." He didn't give false reassurances by saying the pain would eventually fade, because he knew firsthand that it wouldn't. He simply gave him a different focus.

And Shadow listened. He took it silently, and just as he was processing the new perspective with a kind of wonder in his eyes, the sun rose.

This kind of honest, deep-seated conversation could've only happened in this universe, simply because Game!Sonic doesn't have a confirmed backstory and isn't really allowed to open up like that. This is where the lack of mandates on the SCU makes for beautiful opportunities like this.

This wasn't an exchange between rivals. This was a heart-to-heart between two young boys with similar trauma. Something that connected them and became the foundation for their friendship.

The idea of rivalry is barely addressed in this movie, and I love it. Whatever banter they share as they fight alongside each other later is all friendly and lighthearted, paired with smiles and excitement.

Shadow confessed that he'd felt like he had no choice in the things he'd done, but he phrased it in a way that made it clear that he knew now he'd been wrong.

Even so, Sonic— in classic fashion— extended an open hand to him and told him the simple, profound truth: "You always have a choice."

Better yet, even though they still had a mess to clean, neither of them would be facing it alone. And with their friendship finally established, they were able to move forward.

Again. This scene was perfect. The honesty, raw emotion, open communication, and shared past between these two, as opposed to their strained dynamic in other universes, will always stand out to me, and among many reasons will always be a reason I love these movies so deeply.

don't tag as ship or i'll sell your elbows to the dark web

[ellieputellas]

friendly competition | alexia putellas x mapi león x reader 🔞

Your best friends Alexia and Mapi were always naturally competitive, finding every opportunity to one up each other. You just never thought pleasuring you would be their next competition.

tags / warnings: MINORS DNI, strap r!receiving, fingering r!receiving, cunnilingus r!receiving, lots of making out and fondling, minimal usage of slut, pet names, overstimulation, drunk sex, just some nice friendly competition, unedited and no proofreading done at all so there will be some errors | wc: 4k+

masterlist | please do not repost or plagiarize.

After breaking up with your boyfriend of 5 years, your best friends from college decided that they would make it their agenda to make you happy.

"Mapi, enough with the drinks, she's going to throw up if you keep making her drunk." Alexia scolded the tattooed girl who was mixing you a suspicious cocktail of Jäger and soda. 

Mapi scoffed. "She's gonna end up getting sick first cause of all the sweets you're feeding her."

Alexia rolled her eyes at Mapi.

Mapi and Alexia were competitive ever since you first met as roommates for college. They didn't like to admit it but there was always something between the two of them — a sense of friendly competition. It started off with just football but it trickled down to other things — like grades in school and party games. 

At some point, the two even started a competition of who could get the most girl's numbers at a college party, much to your dismay. You hated being in between all of it; you weren't always a fan of how competitive and intense they could be.

But today, it was working in your favor because today, their competition was on who could make you feel better faster.

"Actually, I don't want anything to drink or eat right now." You groaned, rubbing your tummy. You were starting to feel full and tipsy. "I'd kill to get my feet massaged right now though."

"Got it," Alexia said, immediately getting up from the couch to settle on the floor and take one of your feet. 

Mapi furrowed her eyebrows. "Don't let Alexia do it. She just presses random spots and thinks that's good enough."

The two bantered, both obviously tipsy as well. You chuckled and shook your head. "How do you two even know who gives the better foot rubs? You two join some weird foot massaging tournament?”

Mapi smirked as she slinked beside Alexia, grabbing your other foot. "We both liked the same girl before and we both wanted to impress her and that somehow ended up kinda like this." She recounted.

You chuckled and shook your head at the anecdote. There wasn't a single thing your two best friends did not compete over. You were just glad it was going in your favor today.

You moaned out in delight as you felt them both try hard to massage your feet. "Mmm, that's good." You laid your head back, resting it on the couch cushion.

"Well, who's better?" Alexia asked impatiently.

You sighed. "You've been massaging me for 3 seconds and you already want me to decide already. Just keep at it."

The two laughed; they knew you were taking advantage of their competitiveness but fuck it, you were just  broken up with. The least you can get off it was a foot massage.

"So, be for real, are you still upset about him?" Mapi asked, tilting her head to the side. 

You hummed to think. "Yes... and no." You responded honestly. "Yes because we were together for a really long time and I just got used to being around him. He kind of became part of my life ritual so it will be hard to move past that."

"And no because?" Alexia pressed, looking at you with a curious look.

"Also no because these past years, I've always felt like the spark completely died out." You said honestly, taking a deep breath. "I hate him for cheating on me and leaving me for some random chick he met on Call of Duty but part of me blames myself. I rarely make out with him. We only ever have sex on his birthday or when he begs for it extra, extra hard. I just wasn't a good girlfriend physically and I guess, men need that physical aspect of a relationship."

You pressed a hand on your forehead as you sighed deeply. "At least I don't have to force myself to fake an orgasm anymore while having to choke down my own vomit." You said, shaking your head at the memory of the sweaty man grunting on top of you. Why did I even try to put up with that?

The two laughed at your candidness which was mostly brought by your inebriation. "Geez, I didn't know you two were having issues like that." Alexia commented with an amused expression."You guys always looked happy."

"I saw it coming. If you're observant enough, you could see they were mostly just friends these past years. The whole romance aspect died down basically during the second year of college." Mapi interjected. "You might not have noticed it much, Ale. Considering that you’re not that observant."

Alexia looked offended. "Excuse me? If anything, I'm more observant than you are. I literally am the best listener while you mostly just yap." She argued.

You grained, feeling your head throb with the banter. “Can you guys cut it out for a moment? I just want a good foot massage and not have to hear you two bicker about who's better at what."

The two continued to massage your feet, glancing at each other to see how well the other was doing. You rolled your eyes. I really got a bunch of childish losers for my best friends, you thought.

"Mmm," You said out loud as you felt Mapi press against a pressure point with the pad of her fingers. "Oh... that feels really good."

Mapi smiled. Alexia rolled her eyes but decided to emulate Mapi and press against the same pressure point on the opposite foot.

You moaned out. "Ohhh, that feels really good. Mmm." You closed my eyes, pressing your hands flat on the surface beside you.

"This massage is giving me more pleasure than all the sex I had with him all those years combined. I can't believe a foot massage may give me my first orgasm." You attempted a joke but realized no one was chuckling with you. You blinked your eyes open to see Alexia and Mapi looking at each other knowingly.

You cocked an eyebrow. "What?"

The two had a playful smirk that irked you and left you feeling uneasy. You felt like you were being purposefully left out of an inside joke. 

"Whaaaaat? Tell me."

"I don't even know if Alexia is thinking the same thing as me." Mapi shrugged with a small smile and a playful look on her face. She glanced at Alexia who was chuckling as she shook her head.

After a pause of contemplation, Alexia leaned in to whisper something in Mapi's ear, making her chuckle. "Okay, never mind, we were thinking the same thing." Mapi confirmed, not exactly shocked that they were thinking alike.

You groaned. "Can you just tell me? This is frustrating."

The two best friends looked at each other carefully, slowing down on their foot massaging. Alexia bit her lip before saying out loud. "We wanna see who can pleasure you more." Her tone was calculated but firm.

"Pleasure?" You furrowed your eyebrows.

Mapi nodded. "Yeah, we wanna see which one of us can fuck you better." She said more bluntly. 

You widened my eyes. "Are you guys insane?" You shouted, jolting back and taking back your feet away from them. You tucked them into an indian sit."You guys better be fucking around."

The two of them were quiet and unresponsive which made you a bit nervous. Were they actually being serious?

"Guys, don't fuck around with me please. I don't like it." You whined, feeling teased by your best friends. "It's really not funny."

"To be honest... Alexia and I have been interested in you since college." Mapi responded. "We just kept a healthy distance since, well, you had a boyfriend."

You turned your attention to Alexia who nodded. "Yeah, I've wanted to bend you over and go crazy ever since I saw you undress in front of me during our first night at our dorm." Her voice was too confident and loud, obviously tipsy but it still sounded honest.

You fell speechless, blinking and trying to process what the two had just confessed. Mapi stood up and leaned over you on the couch, propping her hand beside you. "Come on, don't tell us you haven't thought of us like that before?" She asked with a suggestive tone.

You gulped. You've always known your best friends were attractive; there was a good reason for them to be so popular amongst girls. All of your friends in college basically were always asking about at least one of them. It was no question that they were both hot and had such strong sex appeal in such different ways. But, you didn't really think about it until now...

Before you could say anything, Mapi's lips found its way to your neck. You gasped as you felt her kiss the side of your neck then slowly made her way to your jaw. You tensed up at first but immediately felt your eyes flutter.

"Uh," You  moaned as you let her suck on your neck. "Mapi, wait."

She pulled away. "Tell me stop if you don't want me to go on." She said before leaning in again to kiss your neck but with more force this time. You knew you should have stopped her but it just felt too damn good. You moaned out when you felt her nibble at a sensitive part of your collarbones. All hesitation melted away and you wrapped your arms around her and let her devour you. 

"Hey, I want a turn too." You opened your eyes to see Alexia standing, towering over the two of you. You don't know what came over you but you used your left hand to grab her hand and pull her close to you.

Mapi moved over to sit on your right and to kiss that side of my neck while moving her hands to gently cup your clothed breast as Alexia leaned over you, capturing your lips with hers.

You moaned, tasting the cocktail taste lingering in her tongue as it skillfully entered your mouth. Unlike kissing your ex-boyfriend, you didn't feel like puking yourself. You wanted to kiss Alexia deeper, taste more of her, and have her hands in your body. Her tongue and lips were already against yours but you wanted to be closer. You needed her inside you, craving to be filled by your best friend's fingers.

You yelped as you felt Mapi suddenly squeeze your chest hard with her hand.

"Alexia, don't hog her." She complained.

Alexia broke your kiss. "Not my fault she wants me more," She teased as she went back to kissing you.

You pulled away after a few lip locks, deciding you also wanted a taste of Mapi. You turned your head to her, grabbing her jaw and planting your eager lips on her.

Mapi was rougher. She liked to bite and nibble. Her tongue expertly slithering into your mouth with so much fervor that you were already practically moaning from her kisses. Mapi scooped you up from her side and guided you so you ended up straddling her lap as she kissed you deeply.

You felt her hands slithering under your shirt and then under your bra. You gasped in between her kisses as she took your nipples between her fingers, pinching and twirling them. You couldn't help but grind yourself against her lap as she kissed and fondled you.

"Mapi, now, you're the one being selfish." Alexia complained.

Mapi stopped kissing you. She looked into your eyes with darkened lust before looking at Alexia and nodding. Alexia took you off of Mapi's lap before sitting down on the spot beside her. She emulated Mapi's position, propping you on top of her.

Alexia hurriedly took off your shirt and your bra. She bit her lip as she looked at your breasts. "If I had known you had boobs as cute as this, I would have ravaged you earlier." She said as she looked hungrily at your bare chest.

Before you could roll your eyes or make a snide remark, her mouth captured your right nipple. She alternated between sucking and using her tongue to flick against it. Her other hand started with the other nipple, pinching and flicking before slowly moving down to rub your core from the outside. 

You just wanted so badly for her to rip off your shorts and undies but Alexia just kept teasing you by rubbing on the outside, alternating from grazing your core to running her hands along your inner thigh.

You broke our kiss. "Ale, Ale, I want it inside, please."

Alexia looked smug. "I thought you didn't want us to pleasure you, huh?"

You groaned as you felt her draw painstakingly slow circles around your core. "Quit it. I want it now."

"Then you'll get it."

Alexia kissed you briefly before making you stand up so she could take off your bottoms. The two looked like hungry animals with the way they stared at you undress, ready to pounce and devour every bit of flesh on you. It left you shivering and wanting them more.

Alexia gestured for you to sit down on her lap, facing the opposite direction. You followed suit, turning to have your back facing her before sitting on her lap. She grabbed your breasts, moving your body closer to her torso before parting your legs. You felt exposed this way. You were spread open for Alexia to touch and Mapi to watch. 

You couldn't see Alexia but you could hear her curse under her breath as her hands made its way from your inner thigh to your dripping wet core.

"Cariño, look how wet you are for us." She said as she slowly rubbed your clit. Mapi licked her lips as she watched Alexia tease her fingers around your entrance, feeling all the folds and contours of your core.

You moaned as you felt the tips of Alexia's fingers draw wide circles around your entire core, purposefully avoiding your clit. You tried to grind against her for more but her other hand was holding your hip steady.

Mapi excused herself to go to the next room and before you could ask why, Alexia's fingers found their way to your throbbing clit and began rubbing it in circles. You moaned out.

You were wriggling quite a bit due to the sudden bouts of pressure going through your body but Alexia was able to hold you steady with her hands. "Oh, our little slut likes getting her clit played with?" Alexia teased, suddenly upping the dirty talk which just made you feel more turned on. 

You ignored her teasing and continued to focus on the way her hands touched you. "Alexia, please," You moaned. "I want you."

"Mmm," She hummed as if to think. "I'll do it if you admit you're a slut for me."

You knitted your eyebrows together. "Alexia..."

"Say it."

"Fuck," You closed your eyes shut as you felt her fingers graze against the sensitive spot of your clit. Alexia had felt you react to it and decided to tease you by playfully flicking her fingers up and down the sensitive spot. "Alexia, I'm your slut."

"Good girl." Alexia spared no time before inserting two fingers in your cunt. Given her limited position, she was mostly curling her fingers instead of thrusting in and out which just made you moan out louder each time she grazed and hit against the most sensitive areas.

"You sound so good, cariño." Alexia grunted in your ear. "I think you're wet enough to take another."

Without much time to process her statement, she inserted a third finger inside you, eliciting a loud gasp. You gyrated your hips against Alexia's hand as she continued to fuck you. The three fingers inside you were stretching you out so much and yet it felt so satisfying feeling so full like that.

You were just about to reach orgasm when Mapi re-entered the room. "My turn, Alexia." She ordered.

Alexia removed her fingers from inside you abruptly. You groaned and were about to complain. But, when you opened your eyes, you saw that Mapi has now stripped completely except for a black sports bra and a strap-on wrapped around her waist with a black harness. She had her dyed blonde hair tied up in a sleek bun, showing just how serious she was about this.

"I knew you had it with you." Alexia responded with a chuckle. "That's why I stretched her out nice and good for you. Consider it a thank you for letting me play with her cute little pussy first."

Mapi chuckled as she positioned herself in front of you. "Did Alexia make you feel good, princesa?"

You bit your lip and nodded as you watched her put lube on to the translucent silicone member attached to her.

"Well, if Alexia made you feel good, I'll make you feel better." She said with a playful tone

Alexia, who was still underneath you, chuckled at the statement but held your thighs steadily apart for Mapi, spreading them apart to make sure you were completely exposed.

Mapi slowly positioned her hips to align the silicone member in front of your cunt. Alexia took one of her hands off your leg and continued to rub your clit. You felt incredibly exposed as you moaned out, feeling your cunt grow wetter.

Mapi slowly entered. You gasped as she slowly thrusted the entire length inside, gaping you wide open. Alexia kept rubbing your core to help you take Mapi's entire length better.

"Fuck, look at that pretty pussy stretch wide around my dick." Mapi commented before tucking her lower lip between her teeth.

After a few precautionary thrusts, Mapi increased her pace. She thrust in and out of, daring to thrust out the entire length up to the head before slamming back inside of you. Alexia was still rubbing you steadily while kissing your neck and playing with your breast.

You felt overstimulated in all your parts with Mapi filling you up entirely, Alexia touching you everywhere else and the warmth of both their bodies pressed against you.

"I-I'm almost there." You said in between shaky moans. "Ale, Mapi, faster please."

The two didn't hesitate and obeyed immediately. You felt the warmth fill your entirety. Your arms, legs and even your torso began shaking with an orgasm threatening to erupt. You were moaning out so loud that you were sure you were getting a strongly worded notice from the landlord about complaints from the neighbors the next day 

"Mapi!" You moaned as Mapi slammed her entirety into you.

With a few more intense thrusts, you were completely unraveled. Ripples of pleasure  passed through your body as you unraveled into an orgasm.

Your best friends helped ride out your orgasm before fully stopping. Mapi pulled out before grabbing your face and kissing you sloppily as you both tried to catch your breaths.

"Woah." It was all you could say.

You scooted off of Alexia's lap and rested on the space beside her, melting into a puddle of pleasure and exhaustion.

"Uh, Mapi, why did you have to wear her out?" Alexia complained. "I wasn't done with her yet."

Mapi smiled smugly. "Look at her. How can I resist? You try lusting over her for years."

"Estúpida, we're on the same boat." Alexia smacked Mapi's arm. "I wanted her for just as long."

Alexia leaned in closer to you, planting gentle kisses on your cheek before whispering. "Are you all rested up? Cause it's my turn to take the spotlight."

"I don't know if I can take it." You responded honestly, still catching your breath.

"You can take it, I promise." Alexia responded as she kneeled in front of you, grabbing your feet to place on the sofa on either side of you so that you were once again exposed to her.

"Alexia, wait, I'm still raw." You whimpered

Alexia groaned. "I'll be gentle, I promise."

Mapi, who was standing as she removed the harness, rolled her eyes. "No, she won't."

"No, I promise, cariño. I'll be good." Alexia said as she moved closer to you. She leaned her head into your cunt, giving it a gentle smooch. You gasped quietly at the gentle touch.

She gave your cunt another peck before taking it inside her mouth and using her tongue to lick the slickness of your core. You moaned as you felt the flat of Alexia's tongue clean the surface of your cunt.

"Uh, Alexia." You moaned as you felt her tongue play along the folds. "Suck on me, please."

Alexia obeyed and placed a suction around your clit. She sucked and you nearly jolted out of your position. "Fuck! That's good."

Alexia looked smug as she continued to eat you out. You were moaning and grunting, focused on your pleasure until Mapi grabbed your face and proceeded to kiss you.

You moaned sloppily into her mouth as she liplocked with you as you were getting eaten out by your other best friend. You moaned against Mapi's mouth when you felt the tip of Alexia's tongue play against the small part of your clit. You moved your hips towards her and parted your lips to breathe which didn't stop Mapi from taking that as an opportunity to stick her tongue in your mouth.

You were breathless and overstimulated. You felt like the two were overcompensating for the lost pleasure they could have had if it weren't due to you being tied down to the anchor that was your ex for all these years.

You continued to gyrate your hips as Alexia kept a firm suction of your core with her mouth, still kissing Mapi deeply. You moaned loudly against Mapi's mouth when you felt the climax building. At that point, Alexia removed her face from your cunt and promptly replaced it with her hand rubbing against your and the two fingers of the other hand swiftly placed inside you, curling against your sensitive part.

You couldn't even process what happened next. You turned into a concentration of mindless pleasure that eventually exploded into a shaking orgasm.

"Woah, Mapi." Alexia exclaimed with her fingers still pumping in and out of you. You fluttered your eyes open to see Alexia smiling playfully at Mapi. "She's squirting."

You looked down and as if on cue, you squirted again. You groaned as Alexia fingered you a few more times before fully pulling out. "I never would have guessed you're a squirter." She commented.

"I guessed it." Mapi responded.

Alexia just rolled her eyes. "That doesn't matter. I made her squirt without any of your help." She retorted.

"Please, she was only cumming after I already fucked her. That orgasm was merely an aftershock." Mapi answered. "I think I won."

Alexia exhaled exasperatedly. She turned towards you. "Go on and tell Mapi I won this time."

You paused as you tried to catch your breath, darting your eyes from one best friend to the other. Alexia was good with her hands and mouth. She loved to hit particular spots that just elicited the loudest and most embarrassing noises you have ever made. On the other hand, Mapi truly fucked yoy brains out with her strap. It was rough and indulgent which you never would have thought was the type of sex you would go insane for.

You hummed. "No winners."

Alexia and Mapi exclaimed in protest loudly. You hushed the two immediately. "No winners yet. I think I need another round to get to decide who wins."

They both smiled.

"Good," Alexia said. "I can go all night until you decide I win."

"I can go all night even after you decide I win." Mapi retorted. You shook your head and chuckled at them. It was going to be a long and sleepless night.

a/n: sorry this was completely unedited! i hope u guys still liked it! pls be nice <3 requests are open (but slow and not guaranteed lol)

[tagidearte-spam-sb]

The Daycare Attendant and Their Dialogue

A little ramble on some of the things I've noticed about their ways of speaking. This post ended up being predominantly about how they refer to one another. Most of this is speculation mixed in with my own views on them and their relationship, without discarding some other possible alternatives (for instance, although I do view them as two AIs that heavily rely on each other to function properly, I do not cast aside the interpretation that they are the same person).

(note: although I have played SB and Ruin, I did not play HW2 myself. All I know about that game has been through let's plays).

Sun is, obviously, the chattier of the two. Not only are his sentences longer, he speaks more of them in a row than Moon does - in fact, we only see Moon going on and on in Ruin (which we will discuss later).

Both of them use a lot of repetitions when speaking. From their infamous "clean up, clean up" line, to Sun's panicked "you like glitter glue? I have glitter glue!" and "light's on! Light's on! Keep the generators on!", to Moon's "hidey hide, hide away" and "bad children must be punished. Bad children must be found", "knock knock", etc. One of the first things Eclipse says is also a repetition ("warning, warning"). They appear to occasionally rhyme their words too, or at the very least use similar sounds in their sentences. This is a robot that works with young children, so it's not surprising.

On that same vein, their main insult to misbehaving children (and employees... or at least Cassie's dad) is also a repetition: "naughty, naughty" (which turns into "naughty boy" for Gregory), "rulebreaker, rulebreaker", and "bad kid, bad kid". In fact, it appears they repeat words more often when they're mad/stressed (Sun's no no nos, Moon freaking out in Ruin). Taking into account they get mad pretty easily when things don't go their way, it's not surprising we hear it so often, but it's neat.

Although both of them speak in an almost song like manner, with Sun's run on sentences flowing well between one another, Moon is the one where this is more evident due to how much shorter his lines are.

Moon is also the one who speaks in a more childish manner. Not only are his phrases shorter, he doesn't articulate them as much as Sun does, and seems to prefer shorter words and sounds, especially giggles. This makes Sun appear more developed. Key word being appear.

Sun tends to speak as if he's entertaining a crowd, doing his best to keep the attention on himself while trying to keep it fun. This is most evident in his level explanation parts in HW2, but it's also clear in SB. In Ruin, this is absent for... obvious reasons.

Both of them are somehow direct in their way of giving orders/saying what they want to do. When they can't be direct, they find workaround truths in order to conceal what they truly want to say, while keeping the main order clear (such as Sun saying the player will hurt their eyes if they work in the dark and ordering them to keep the lights on, rather than saying Moon will kill them so keep that room bright. Direct, but nicer).

Not at all important to FNAF speech lore but I think it's funny: Sun says the infamous Vanny line during the daycare intro section. "Are you having fun yet? (Are ya, are ya?)". 0.5 seconds after Gregory just stands there, which coincidentally is what Vanny does 0.5 seconds after Gregory gets into a vent (numbers exaggerated). I don't know. I just think it's funny. Replaying the daycare section after hearing Vanny yapping that line non stop gave me flashbacks.

The way they refer to each other and the pronouns they use are an entire thing, so let me separate it in two parts.

So that this post doesn't become scrolling hell on the tags, I'll keep it below the read more line:

Sun

Sun is the one who refers to himself the most. He frequently uses "I" or "me" when talking about himself, and does it way more often than Moon. Examples of this are "I have glitter glue!", "I'm stuck in a nap", "it really speaks to me", "I feel dumber just looking at it" - you get the point by now. The reason I'm going hard on this point is to contrast his way of speaking to Moon's.

When it comes to him referring to Moon, we only ever hear it twice. In HW2 he says "He'll wake up if the lights go out!". In Ruin, he says "Not me, the other me!". Besides those two voice lines, he merely alludes to Moon without ever mentioning him by name or by pronouns (such as when he says he'll turn the lights off himself, implying he'll let Moon deal with you, or when he says you can't work in the dark and instead of saying the real reason as to why, he cuts himself and goes "You'll- hurt your eyes if you work in the dark").

This is interesting for two reasons: one, we only see him directly mention his counterpart when he's in a ruined state (the HW2 voice line comes from the mask off section, when they're broken down. At least I think so); two, he simultaneously views Moon as separate from himself ("he'll wake up") and as a part of himself/another side of himself ("the other me"). You can take that as them really being the same "person", or as a reflection of their complicated body sharing situation. Take it as you will.

As far as referring to himself and Moon at the same time, he only does it in Ruin when he states "We need to be whole".

Moon

The way Moon structures his sentences means that he seldomly actually refers to himself directly. For instance, he doesn't say "I will find you" or "I will punish you", putting himself as the subject of the sentence. Instead, he puts others as the subject, wording it as "Bad children must be found" and "Bad children must be punished". This is consistent across all of his voice lines except one... Well, technically two.

To get it out of the way: there's a deleted voice line where he says "I'm putting you in time out", a line he and Sun share and which worked the same way the clean up one does - them saying the same thing, a push towards them being the same person ordeal.

The only in-game time he refers to himself directly is in Ruin. This line is also the only time he refers to both himself and Sun as a duo. This line is also the longest line of dialogue Moon has.

"(groaning noises) Naughty! Naughty! Make it stop! The light makes us hurt! Grind Grind! Grinding gears inside my head! We can't move. Error! Error!"

This line, much like Sun's, is interesting for various reasons. Even though Sun is no longer with him (being stuck in the VR world and separate from Moon, shown by how Moon can't move because the lights are on but his body can't shift into Sun, so he's completely stuck), he first refers to himself as a "us" - adding Sun into the mix. Then he refers to himself alone, "my head" instead of "ours", before going right back to a plural.

We can assume one of three things here: one, Moon refers to himself as a we more often, adding Sun into the mix, a complete opposite of his counterpart who typically speaks in singulars; or two, Sun is not as absent as he appears and in that moment he is in fact with Moon, just stuck on the passenger sit, hurting alongside him; or three, this is merely an effect of this being in the Ruin DLC where the whole point of the daycare section is to fuse Sun and Moon into the Eclipse, so the writers decided to bring the point home further. If you have more options, feel free to add them.

Side note: This voiceline also shows Moon's speaking patterns pretty well. Putting "the light" as the subject instead of "we/I", the rhyming, the repetition, the clipped sentences compared to Sun's endless ones, the noises, the scratchiness, the vague childlike mannerism... All ending with "we can't move", way more straight to the point, said right before he freezes up, which deviates from the "other subject first then me" rule due to the pain tearing through him at the moment.

Moon does not call Sun "the other me" or anything similar in any of the games. He never refers to Sun as if he too was Sun. However, we can assume his view on their situation probably mirrors Sun's - being in the same body and all -, so take it as you will.

And as for Moon referring to Sun as a separate individual... He does not refer to him as a "he". Instead, he actually mentions his counterpart by name, saying "No more Sun". Meaning he's the only one of the the two that has canonically used his other side's name. I think it's interesting how the least chatty one is the one actually calling the other by name and not the other way around. And yes, you can say it's a way of speaking and he's referring to the concept of the sun rather than saying his name, but taking into consideration Sun never utters the word moon, I'd say it's still quite a big thing.

In my headcanon land, due to the happenings at the Pizzaplex, Sun is probably too embarrassed and mortified to even mention Moon. Moon, on the other hand, has no reason to have such troubles besides hating Sun for (in his perspective) keeping him locked in a prison of light. So for me, it makes sense we never see Sun saying Moon's name, and it makes it more impactful when he actually acknowledges Moon as the other me rather than a he.

Eclipse

I lied there's three parts.

Eclipse has very few voice lines. The only one that matters here is "We need to clean this place up before we can open in the morning." This is pretty straight to the point: Eclipse, unlike Sun and Moon, doesn't use an "I". They immediately speak in the plural. They do not view themselves as just Eclipse, but rather as both Sun and Moon combined, at the same time.

As for the DCA being two AIs or one... in Ruin, Sun thanks Cassie after Eclipse is activated. It's left ambiguous. You can say Sun speaking afterwards proves they're not one and the same, "with the Sun and Moon AIs still running separately somehow", or you can assume Eclipse existing doesn't mean Sun and Moon can't keep doing their thing under safe mode, albeit in a less chaotic manner, allowing Sun's voice to come through but not making him any less Moon - he is Moon, he is Sun, and they are complicated yet very simple.

I believe in whichever version is more convenient at any given time, with a preference for "two codependent AIs" given what the games show us. Although, going by everything I collected here, the only theory I believe to just not be supported by canon at all is the one with Eclipse as a separate thing all together. Eclipse refers to themselves as a "we', not an "I". Eclipse activates when you make Sun and Moon "whole". It canonically makes no sense for Eclipse to be a third thing. (Please remember this is a post about what's in the games, the canon of FNAF. AUs and fandom or whatever, you do you).

That's it. Hope you enjoyed my rambling. Uh artblog unpaid promotion @tagidearte thank you for making it this far.

[wcnderlnds]

find the words | choi su-bong (thanos)

・❥・ summary: no matter how many times you tell him you love him, he brushes it off but little do you know he feels the same. ・❥・word count: 1.4k ・❥・warnings: angst, mentions of death, lots of swearing ・❥・ authors note: i’m sorry if the formatting is off, im posting this mobile!! but im back with my thanos fics <3

If there was one thing that Choi Subong was certain of, it was that he didn’t deserve love. He was not a good person. He wasn’t the kind of man that was good for anyone and he knew that. He was toxic – constantly popping pills and acting like an asshole at any given opportunity. In his heart, he would consider himself unlovable. What kind of person would want to love a loser like him anyway? No, he was fine with it. At least this way he couldn’t ever break anyone’s heart, he didn’t have to let anyone down. Under all the bravado and the act he put on, he was just a scared little boy who needed his precious, colourful pills to survive. When he didn’t take one he was an anxious mess, his brain a never-ending stream of dark and scary thoughts that he never wanted to dive into. He was a broken man. The world had chewed him up and spit him out to the point he didn’t think he deserved anything anymore.

You, though. You had wormed your way into his cold, barely beating heart from the second he had met you. The bright smile you always wore on your face, the way you looked at him like he mattered – it meant more to him than you knew. In fact, you meant more to him than anything else in the world. He just couldn’t tell you. He didn’t need to drag you down with him. All you deserved was peace and happiness – both things that he couldn’t give you. So, he hid his feelings deep, deep down. Actually, in his cross necklace where he kept his drugs. One time when he’d been off the pills, he needed an outlet and thought it was a good idea to write you a letter telling you how he felt about you. Of course, he would never give it to you but it would remain close to chest. Literally.

When he had laid eyes on you in this shithole of a place after the first game, he almost wanted to kill you himself. How could you have landed yourself in a situation like this? When you’d told him you’d done it to try and raise the money to help him pay off his debts, he’d lost his mind. He’d chewed you out for being stupid but you didn’t care. You would do anything for him. No matter how many times you tried to tell him that, he always brushed it off.

The Mingle game had just ended, Thanos had his arms wrapped around you in a tight hug, your body pressing firmly against his. One of his hands rested on the small of your back, the other cradling your head as he held you against him. Each game his panic escalated, he couldn't lose you; vowing to do anything he could to keep you safe. Your arms rested gently on his back, rubbing it soothingly.

“It’s okay, I’m okay,” you assured him, your heart thumping in your chest as he nuzzled his head into your neck. It was moments like this with him that you cherished the most. You were the only person in the world that he’d hold like this.

“You shouldn’t fucking be here,” he said the words he’d been saying since the moment he’d seen you. “If I lose you, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“Hey,” you pulled back slightly, taking his face in your hands forcing him to look at you. “You won’t lose me, okay? And, I won’t lose you. We’ll get through this together like we do everything else. I love you, Subong.”

There it was again. You telling him you loved him in that soft voice of yours. He rested his forehead against yours, opting to once again ignore what you’d said. His eyes fluttered shut, his lips ghosting over yours. All it would take was for him to press them against yours, closing the millimetre gap between your lips but no. He couldn’t do that to you. He would ruin you in every single way but, god, he really wanted to. Just once he wanted to know what it felt like, how your lips felt against his, how you tasted.

With a sigh, he pulled back, his hands resting on your hips for a second as he spoke with a shaky voice hidden behind false confidence. “I need to take a piss.”

He headed towards the bathroom, his lackey Nam-gyu trailing behind leaving you stood there. Of course he’d brush it off. He always did but there wasn’t anything you could do. Maybe one day he would listen to you. The sad thing was that you would wait forever for him to finally notice you. A sigh passed your lips as you made your way over to sit down on your bed. All you could do now was wait for him to come back, acting like you didn’t just almost kiss for the thousandth time.

After the first five minutes, you brushed it off. He was taking a piss, no big deal.

When fifteen minutes hit was when you started to worry. It didn’t take that long to have a leak. Where was he? Had he got himself into some trouble? Surely the guards would have put a stop to it.

It was at twenty-five minutes when the panic set in. You had got to your feet, pacing in frustration. Something must have happened. It didn’t feel right, everything about this felt off. Just as you were about to march towards the doors and demand to be let into the bathroom, Nam-gyu stepped through covered in blood. It was then you heard the familiar voice echo through the room.

Player 230 eliminated.

The room began to spin, your stomach threatening to throw up the dinner you’d eaten. No, no, this wasn’t real. Your hand had to grasp onto one of the poles on the bunk beds to keep you upright. Without even realising tears were falling down your face, a loud sob wracking your body. Your shoulders shook as you broke down.

He was gone. The love of your life, the person who had your heart was gone. You’d never see his face again, never see that perfect smile, never hear his laugh. You’d never be able to run your hands through his purple hair or hold him against you ever again. It felt like the world was ending because your world had just ended. What was the point without him? Your heart physically hurt. It felt like someone had ripped it apart, stomping on the pieces as it fell into your stomach.

Through your tears, you looked back up to Nam-gyu. In the haze of everything, you caught a glimpse of the familiar chain you knew all too well. Immediately you went towards him, snatching it from his hand. “That’s not yours,” you hissed through a sob. Before he even had time to react, you had walked away, clutching the cross tightly in your hand. You didn’t care about the blood staining your hands now, all you cared about was that you still had a piece of him.

An hour passed and all you’d done was cry so much that you’d given yourself a pounding headache on top of everything else. Gi-hun had come over at one point to try and console you but you could barely remember it. Ever since you’d heard the words ‘Player 230 eliminated’, nothing had made sense. Maybe Thanos had been onto something. Maybe the pills would help numb the pain. With shaky hands you pulled open the cross only for a small note to fall onto your lap.

You picked it up, unfolding it and instantly your eyes filled with fresh tears as you spotted the familiar handwriting.

My Senorita. I’m not good with words, never have been so sorry if this is a fucking mess. My life is a shitshow but you’ve been a constant ray of light, making my days a little brighter. I know how you feel about me and I’m sorry that I’ve never acknowledged it but I’m so fucking scared. You deserve the world but I can’t give you that. I’m fucked up. I’m no good for you but there’s a part of me that sometimes wants to be selfish. I fucking love you. Shit, I’m so in love with you. A better man would be able to wax poetic but all I can say is my heart is yours. Yours always, Subong.

A sad smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you clutched the note to your chest. He had been carrying this with him the whole time. He loved you. You weren’t sure if knowing that made it better or worse but for now it gave you the motivation to keep going. You’d do this for him now.

taglist (ask to be added!): @ldydeath @infinetlyforgotten @justsisse @djarindroid @basquiat-top @urmomsg1rlfreind @belladonna-303 @seunghyunwifey

[8r14r-r0s3]

Ì don't think a piece of media has fucked me up as much as tetro has. Like Jesus fucking christ. It's frankly horrifyingly realistic how none of the characters are recognizable. They're all broken.

Wada's regressed in every way possible. His selective mutism came back as a stress reaction. He hasn't eaten in a week. And just like into the game, he has no one. But now it's even worse, because now instead of never having them, each and every one of them slipped through his fingers. It's unlikely he'll actually be able to locate any of the other students, and before the game he was struggling to make ends meet. Now he doesn't even have a coping mechanism. Isono is gone. He'll never be able to view a streamer the same way again. His eating habits aren't going to get better when he's completely and utterly alone. He's going to starve to death. Wada Masanari died in the killing game, just like Isono, Tsuno, Watari, and Hama. And with them gone, his stumbling husk will meet their same fate.

Mai. God Mai. She fought through everything. She shouldered every burden, she made every sacrifice, she befriended every last person, and in the end, it wasn't enough. Hayashi Mai was broken. She was physically tortured, she lost any semblance of feeling safe, she lost parts of her body, and she fought through it all until the very last second. She died fighting, I doubt it was just shock, her hands were cut because she wanted to try to save herself. But in the end, Hayashi Mai lost the fight. She fell on the sword for everyone else. Hayashi Mai died in the killing game. And what's left of her body will remain in a burned down school in an underground cavern to rot.

Ojima seemingly lost nothing, but Ojima also lost everything. At first he was genuinely trying his best to be a leader for the group, almost like a second in command to sasaki at some points, but he lost his privacy and then everyone pitied him. Ojima was close with no one, but he was close with everyone. Ojima wasn't well socialized, he views every person who continues to be near him a friend, it's why he always calls people by their first names. While Ojima lost no one, Ojima lost everyone. He had what was left of his innocence defiled. He no longer felt safe within his own mind, he was scared he would hurt someone, he forced himself to stay afloat in an ocean with no bouys but a million whirlpools, and he broke. Ojima Takeshi died in the killing game just like Sasaki. And now he exists as an adult, stripped of his blissful ignorance of the world, and now way to escape the horrors he's seen.

Hiroaki. Where to even begin with Hiroaki. He was hurting when he entered the killing game, and he was hurting when he left it. He was broken, and slowly he tried to fix himself, and he was broken again by the people he hurt, and eventually he couldn't find the strength to fix himself. He's using again. He has been fairly clean for a few weeks, and now he's using again. He at least used to have his ego to fall back on, but now? Now he's nothing. He says his own name like it's an insult. He's done horrible things and hurt the people around him. Every character from Isono to Yanagi, he all hurt them somehow. And he didn't get the chance to apologize to most of them, and he has to live with the guilt that he didn't. It's honestly doubtless that Hiroakis behavior patterns are only going to get worse. He has his drug supply back, he's back with those same faux friends, and he's separated from the people he's grown to actually care about. Hiroaki Nakamigawa died in the killing game, just like Sasaki, Chiba, and Tsuno. And what's left of his facade has to continue through his old routine and go through his same habits, but with none of the artificial joy they used to provide.

Tamba is ruined. Her career is over. Her parents aren't going to give her the kind of love she's desperate for. She's looked in the mirror and seen the worst, ugliest, most horrible parts of herself. She's a coward, she's a backstabber, and she's a hypocrite. And worst of all, Tamba survived. Out of everyone who died. Isono, Sasaki, Chiba, Harada, Kamimura, Tsuno, Watari, Hama, Mai, and Hasegawa. Tamba Ruiko survived but they didn't, and she has to live with that forever. When she was cruel, when she was angry, when she bit the hands reaching out to her, and when they did everything they could to be safe. But Tamba is alive. But she isn't. Tamba Ruiko died in the killing game, just like Kamimura, Watari, and Mai. And now what's left of her broken body has to live in the shadows of their lives.

Hasegawa lost. He was a winner. He was a champion. And he lost. Everything about his life in the killing game was fundamentally unfair. He did his best to do everything right and protect the people he loved and he lost. Then he did his best to hurt the people he felt let his best friend die, and he lost. They were going to lose. He was going to win. But due to forces outside of his control, he lost. Hasegawa lost the only things keeping him steady. His meds ran out weeks ago. Kamimura died weeks ago. And now he's rotting in the med bay. He didn't have the energy to care about the people reaching out to him, and when he did get his energy back, the only thing he wanted to do was get revenge. To make them suffer the same loss he suffered, to make them understand a fraction of what it felt like. Hasegawa Ken died in the killing game the exact moment Okazaki killed Kamimura. And then with what little he had left in him, he took the blade from Okazaki's cold hands and plunged it into Hayashi.

Yanagi Shigeki became what he despises. He's nothing like who he used to be and he'll never be able to go back. One by one the layers of his facade he had built up over the years were stripped away. First he lost his faith when Sasaki killed Isono. Then he lost his dignity when he broke and hurt Nakamigawa. Then he lost his prince guise when he continued to fail time and time again to please and protect the people around him. Then, he lost Mai. He lost his knights oath. The one thing he has left was that he had Mai, he had her and he was loyal to her and he was at her service and he was going to hold onto her and die before he let go. But he was forced to. He was locked in a room with all his failures as the one flicker success he had was snuffed out. And now, he's angry. He's angry and upset and he's violent. He's exactly what he despises, a violent man who scares people. He feels deserving of death, because those kind of men are deserving of death. Yanagi Shigeki died in the killing game just like Sasaki, Tsuno, Watari, and Mai. And now, all that's left of him is everything he despises, and with nothing but hatred in his heart, he's forced to return to the people who would fear him most

This wasn't a happy ending. It was never going to be a happy ending. They're alive. The five of them are alive, but they're all dead. Everything that made them *them* when they entered the game was destroyed. Sasaki was right. Children are their best before they become aware of the horrors of the world.

Goodbye, Tetro Danganronpa Pink. Goodbye Isono Miki. Goodbye Harada Keizou. Goodbye Chiba Airi. Goodbye Kamimura Kazutoshi. Goodbye Hayashi Mai. Goodbye Wada Masanari. Goodbye Sasaki Hitomi. Goodbye Ojima Takeshi. Goodbye Okazaki Hanano. Goodbye Hama Ran. Goodbye Tsuno Manami. Goodbye Hiroaki Nakamkgawa. Goodbye Tamba Ruiko. Goodbye Hasegawa Ken. Goodbye Watari Nishino. Goodbye Yanagi Shigeki. It was an honor to meet you all, and wherever you are, I hope you're happy. You all deserve it. You were all just children, broken, innocent, scared children. And while you may never be innocent again, I hope you can still be happy.

And thank you most to Von Babbit, the voice actors, and the editors. Thank you for giving me the honor to experience your art. I will never be the same again, but that's okay. Because you guided me here. I'm not lost, I'm not afraid, I'm just somewhere new. And I think it's beautiful here.

[coddda]

Everyone knows that Light and L matched each other's freak but I think their dynamic in the musical (the Japanese ver specifically) is underrated. Like it's not super different from canon but they just had this extra edge of Violence that we never quite saw from the more methodical and careful mindgames in canon death note and I think it's great. Like, yes, they did declare in canon that they will bring each other to justice, yes L says he wants to send Kira to his execution, but in the lyrics of the musical they both outright say multiple times that they just want to straight up Kill each other. It's direct the whole way through. There's more mutual contempt. This game is about nothing more than simply being the first one to Kill the Other (they actually use the word "殺し合い" (koroshiau) or "to kill each other" to describe their game (translated as "murderous ... game")).

(Sidenote but all those references about wanting to send each other to Hell?? Beautiful)

Yeah this is a battle of justice and ideals, yes that clash is a key part of their final confrontation at the end of the musical, but throughout their duets (or even songs like The Game Begins where they're singing by themselves) there's this near singleminded desire to just fucking End each other. It's fucking Raw and it's great.

Also THIS FUCKING SCENE?? THIS SCENE FROM SECRETS AND LIES. Iconic. Actually Insane. My jaw dropped. Light looks like a crazy bitch it's beautiful.

Um. Also. Obligatory Playing His Game (yknow the gay sex song) lines dump. It basically says everything I just said above in like 9 lines. You see what I mean right.

In canon they're playing a game of mental chess, trying to use everyone around them to finally catch the other as their end goal, but in the musical you really do feel like all they see is each other. They would probably beat each other to death with their fists if it came down to that. Idk they're just so excited and fired up about their little game in the musical and it's so unhinged and fun and special and I love it. It's like the writers for the musical decided to kick their murderous intent up a couple notches and the result is absolutely Beautiful.

I also think that the intensity of their rivalry in the beginning just makes the wind-down of The Way It Ends soo much better. It's such a good contrast to their previous duets where they try to sing over each other (Secrets and Lies & Stalemate) or with each other but basically at the top of their lungs (Playing His Game). It feels like there's both a quiet mutual understanding but also an underlying disappointment that the game is finally over. In canon, L's death Is instead the peak of their game, the moment he gets confirmation that Light is Kira is the exact same moment that he dies. In the jdrama it's almost sudden, how L dies, after the quiet moment has already passed. But in the musical L's death, ironically, Is the one quieter moment in their game. Their peak was the game itself. It was Secrets and Lies and Playing His Game. But the end of the game in the musical is not a victory, it's just (as L says) the end of everything they'd been wanting up until this point.

Uh. Fuck it. Clip from the Kenji Urai version because I just love his delivery here. His tone just goes so well with the silence and the sound of the clock ticking. You see what I mean right.

Their rivalry in the musical may have been more shortlived but like Damn they were really enjoying every second of it. They were truly insane about each other until the very end. (Like despite everything I just said about the ending it was still unhinged as fuck. Light Making L Shoot Him and then Making L Shoot Himself with L's Own Hand?? Holy shit man. What the fuck /pos)

Musical Light and L your game might've been shorter but you'll always be famous <33 Please never inflict what you had on anyone else ever please stay in hell forever thank you

[stinkysam]

Choi Subong “Thanos” - Help player 230.

Warning : canon divergence, violence, guns

Genre : fluff ?

Synopsis : “thanos x triangle guard male reader where after the fight in the bathrooms the guard helps thanos with his injury” - anon

Reader : gender neutral (you/yours)

A/N : Bold is in English

You were sitting on your bed, reading, when you received an order in your earpiece. You didn’t really understand the reasons behind it, but obeyed nonetheless, placing your book away and putting on your mask, then your hood.

Locking your small room, you then went to your locker, getting your MP5, your revolver and some ammunition before walking down the long corridor to find another guard who was coming to you with a small first aid kit. You took it, placing it around your waist before resuming walking toward the men’s bathroom at a faster pace, going up and down the multiple stairs.

You had to protect player 230, not kill. Save, just this once. You had heard of him, more than just in the games. Rising rapper, known to be annoying, was about to win a rap contest but forgot his own bars. You even saw a few -a lot- memes about it. You mostly felt pity for him, and even though he ended second, you could tell he felt like he had ended last.

Though it meant you knew his name, you preferred to distance yourself, using 230 instead.

As you arrived, you saw player 125 run toward you, you moved to the side, letting him pass by, barely acknowledging you. You continued your way up the stairs, the two triangle soldiers guarding the door.

You stopped, opened the door, looked at the chaos and sighed before entering.

It took you a few seconds to spot your target.

Player 230 was trying to strangle 333 with one hand while the other tried to take his fork away, without much success as it planted repeatedly in his left shoulder, arm and ribs.

You went toward them, a few people noticed you as you took your MP5 in your hands and swiftly hit 333 on the head with it, knocking him out.

The fight had died down by now, all looking at you. You kept your hands on your gun, ready to use it if necessary, the tension still palpable and growing even more with the silence.

“Everyone out.” You said, putting your foot on 230’s back to keep him in place as he grabbed 333’s fork.

The other players didn’t need you to speak twice, already moving away from each other as the two soldiers by the door came in, telling each group to follow them.

“Take him.” You pointed with your gun to 333 on the floor, pushing 230 away from him with your foot, as two Os approached cautiously to help the unconscious man up.

Within a minute, the bathroom was empty.

Or almost.

“124, out.” You said and quickly you heard the door open, 124 slowly coming out with an awkward smile.

“Sorry.” He replied, walking past you before flipping you off behind you as if you couldn’t guess what he was doing, and then, he left.

230, tightly holding 333’s fork, tried to attack you, attempting to stab your leg. You moved your MP5 so it was against his forehead, stopping him instantly, looking at you with wide eyes. Shit.

“Give me the fork.” You said, holding one hand out, but he threw it behind you, hoping you’d give him an opening by going after it.

“Fuck you.” He said with a proud smile.

Fucker. You rolled your eyes, though he did not see it.

You bent down, pushing your MP5 on your back, and grabbed him by the collar, his hands going to your gloved ones to stop you as you forced him to sit against the toilet stall.

“Wh-”

“Player 230, I’m not here to kill you, you can calm down.” You kneeled at his level.

The way he stared at you told you his mind was racing, not understanding but still wanting to curse you out.

“You want me to believe you’re here to help me ? You think I’m stupid ?” He scoffed, crossing his arms though his left one had struggled to move, a wince on his face.

You ignored him, pushing his arms out of the way, opening his vest and pulled his shirt up. His hands went to your wrists, trying to stop you, not understanding what you were doing.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing ?!” He said. God, you understood why he was described as annoying. But again, how do you interact with a man who thinks you’re gonna shoot his brains out.

“Checking your wounds.” You replied, snatching your hands away from his grip to hold his shirt up again.

You noticed the tattoo on his neck was also going down his sides. And there, around the 6th or 7th rib, stab wounds, blood seeping out.

“Remove them.” You said, pointing at his clothes. He raised an eyebrow, visibly confused.

“What ? Why the fuck would I do that ? Perv.”

You ignored him again, taking out the first aid kit from around your waist and showed it to him, hoping he’ll finally get it.

He stared at it, confused before slowly complying, glaring at you as he struggled to get rid of his shirt because of his arm, cursing you under his breath. If only you didn’t have your fucking guns.

By his shoulder and biceps, along the thick line of his tattoo, more stab wounds bleeding abundantly. He looked away, visibly not pleased to be seen hurt.

You came in at the right time, or his wounds would’ve been worse if not deadly. A little more and he would’ve been stabbed in the neck by that fork. Although they were small and weren’t as deep as it would’ve been with a knife, they were still around 4 centimeters deep, stinging and hurting sharply, throbbing.

You opened the first aid kit, placing the different items on 230’s legs except for the scissors and tweezers, keeping them in the bag.

You grabbed the small bottle of painkillers and stood up. He won’t need that, isn’t it more entertaining if they’re struggling ?

“Stay.” You said before walking away and emptying the bottle in the toilet before going to the sink, pouring some water in it.

“Bitch, I’m not a fucking dog.” He said under his breath. Out of spite, he moved, trying to grab the fork. You heard his grunts and turned around with a sigh. You walked to the fork and took it, placing it in your pocket before grabbing him and putting him back where he was. You kneeled down again, replacing what had fallen from his legs.

You emptied the small bottle on his ribs slowly as you cleaned the wounds. Water mixed with blood dripping down his skin, getting rid of the mix of sweat and partially dried blood as he stared at you.

You stood up again to put more water in the small bottle, 230 staying still as you came back and emptied it on his shoulder, wiping it. You did it once more, cleaning up his biceps last.

He continued staring at you, still not understanding why you were helping him. You too weren’t understanding it. Maybe they wanted to keep the disruptive element longer ? Though the most disruptive one could be 456.

His hand moved toward you, trying to reach for your mask, but you moved your head away and swatted his hand.

“Come on, who are you ?” He finally asked. “You piqued my interest.” He smiled cockily.

You gave him an annoyed stare he could not see before returning to your task, taking some gauze and wrapping it around his arm and shoulder, squeezing enough so it wouldn’t fall and stay in place.

Then you leaned closer, wrapping the gauze around his ribs, making sure it was tight and thick enough again.

You looked at your work before turning toward the camera on the ceiling and moving slightly to the side, showing your job was done.

“You can put your clothes back on and go.” You said, standing up, waiting for him to move.

“Seriously, who are you ? You know me ? That’s why you’re helping ?” He chuckled, his confidence growing despite struggling to put his shirt back on, putting his jacket with more ease. You said nothing, watching him slowly stand up before escorting him to the exit.

The door opened, a group of workers entered with 5 human sized black boxes. 230 watched them as they opened them and placed the dead inside before closing it.

“Player 230.” You said, gaining his attention, he looked at you with wide eyes. Did he just notice the corpses ? You reached into your pocket and gave him the fork. “I hope you’re enjoying the games.”