i love pegging and femdom and all that general circle of things but i wish there were more male subs who want their dominant to be the star of the show rather than themselves
all i want is a sub boy who wants to spoil me and carry my bags, wants me to sit on his lap and kiss him dizzy, wants me to wear his hoodie while i peg the daylights out of him
there’s just this very pillow princess-y architype among male subs in the tumblr gfd community, and there’s nothing wrong with that but sometimes I wanna be the princess AND be the dom
suzanne collins killing prim after everything katniss did to save her.......... THATS how you write a story about the brutality and futility of war ma'am thats what we call a compelling and fucked up narrative yessums thats storytelling babes!!!!
“That was one of the first questions I asked her when we sat down: 'Did you always know that [Prim] was going to die?' And she said, 'Oh yeah, of course, that's the whole point.'” (x)
a crime lord, a mental hospital escapee, and a sociopath detective enter a bar.
length. 2.3k
genre. angst, thriller!au?? i REALLY don't know how to label this, agust d and jack do their own thing ig
warnings/tags. language, mention of mental illnesses, murder, arson, implied organized crime, dark themes overall. in this fic's seoul mental hospitals still exist, like arkham asylum/ahs: asylum stile idk it doesn't really serve anything but i imagined it this way.
networks. @kflixnet k-labels
notes. i finally get to publish this fic after soso long can i get an hallelujah?!?! also jack and agust d need to be in a movie together i really need it.
last but not least infinite thanks to the best beta reader i could ask for <3 @l00pyluluo7 MY angel 🫶🏼
hope you like it!
i'm desperate for feedback and i love comments with your opinion!
(cross-posted on ao3 only)
navigation
a crime lord, a mental hospital escapee, and a sociopath detective enter a bar.
you think back to yesterday and you have a hard time recognizing which part of the so-called joke is funny but it was one of the rare times yoongi laughed when hoseok said it so you guess it’s just a you problem.
rain falls relentlessly on seoul’s concrete streets, the raindrops biting into your skin like needles. you walk slowly, hands in your pockets and the hood of your jacket pulled over your head, almost covering your vision. you let your eyes scan the dark alley you’re about to enter, but you see nothing other than a few plastic bags from the restaurant in the front of the building and a stray cat looking for something to eat.
according to the message you received in the dead of night from a —ironically— familiar unknown number, the meet-up is supposed to happen early in the morning but as of right now the sky is dark, the rising sun completely hidden behind a thick layer of ominous clouds. a milky mist bathes the city that has yet to wake up in a gray hue and morning seems nowhere to be seen.
you grimace.
if anyone were to ask you, seoul doesn’t deserve anything.
the freezing cold in winter, the scorching hot summer, the rancid smell, its unforgiving nature, the city you were born in has never done anything for you. not when you grew up in foster care, not when you were denied the same opportunities as your peers because of your ‘slightly disturbing’ nature, not when you joined the police. if anyone were to ask you, in all the years you’ve been alive, seoul has never shown kindness and you’ve come to the point you’d rather see it burn than be a silent victim of its cruel ways.
no one ever asked you, though. not until you met him first and the other second.
they knew what you were talking about when you told them what went on inside of you and be it in loneliness or personal gain, they enabled you in the only way they knew how. with gasoline. setting fire to the rain.
the phone in your hand says it’s 5:26am. you still have time.
you fish for the unopened pack of cigarettes in your pockets.
it’s weird how the first thing you think about is sergeant kim and his passionate hate for your addiction. sergeant kim and the conversation you had almost four hours ago.
his voice was a quiet thing when he found you outside of the police station when it still wasn’t raining.
“detective L/N.”
“sergeant kim.”
“the fires are getting more frequent.”
you let the smoke wash soothingly over your lungs. kept it there before lazily pushing it out. “they are.”
he stood in silence, leaning on the other side of the door, looking at you with a grave frown.
“it’s dangerous, detective.”
you buried yourself further into your jacket and turned your head in his direction, a minimal movement that spurred him to go on.
“and it’s arson,” voice low as he looked around the outside of the station. it was late. uncharacteristically so for him but your case must have been keeping him up at night more than you thought it would. maybe you underestimated his love for the job or his fear for his failures, you don’t know. you don’t particularly care either.
“i thought we’d already agreed on it when we took the case, sergeant. it is malicious. it is arson.”
he frowned and shook his head.
you’ve noticed he often gets these fits of frustration in which he struggles to make you understand exactly how certain things make him feel, as if he needs to explain the reason he’s not comfortable. you think he does it unconsciously but you wonder if sometimes he catches a glimpse of what goes on in your head and his desperation it’s just him trying with all his might to pull you away from something you both know is not pretty. something he knows would put a premature end to whatever relationship he created between the two of you.
“it’s murder,” just above a whisper. “Y/N, we’re looking for a single man, a madman, a psychopath that uses the same brand of matches every time he burns something down but i’m starting to think it might be a group? do you think it could be possible? i just can’t think about the actions of a single person causing so much pain i–”
“what? so it would take this case from having a chilling lack of ethics to just being ethically questionable? would it make you sleep better at night?”
he stared at you as you let out another puff of smoke that curled around itself and vanished in the night air. it smelled like rain. you thought you saw a gust of lighting from behind a building.
“Y/N, i’m worried about this. i’m worried about you.”
that was a weird thing to hear, naive too, you thought.
sergeant kim namjoon. you’ve known him for years. polite, respectful, driven, maybe too driven. your partner in this last case. he took a particular liking to you after you helped him catch an abuser his first year of being sergeant and as much as it was inexplicable to you it was very easy for him to consider you in no time something more than a mere coworker, a friend, even. you realized with time that he craved human connections no one around the station or the city was eager to give him and he found in your uninterested passivity a sign of acceptance of a new friendship. but you don’t think he’s the clueless, clumsy man he portrays himself to be most of the time. you think he’s just a person who’s so desperate that he’d turn a blind eye, a deaf ear to the wolf in sheep’s clothing working alongside him if it meant he could keep someone close to his pathetically lonely heart. you think he’d be considered wretched and rotten and insane just like the rest of you.
when you didn’t answer he shook his head again. a slow hand passed over his tired face as if to wash away the stuff of nightmares you both have to work with.
“whatever organization or– or crazy person– i don’t know but whoever is doing this knows we’re looking for them. you and i, Y/N. and i’m used to your indifference but i’m worried you’re not taking this seriously. they’re getting closer, i can feel their eyes everywhere i go and i– this group is–”
“sergeant…”
he squeezed his eyes shut. to avoid tears from falling from his watery eyes? to ground himself in the shitty reality he’s cursed to live in?
“will you ever call me by my name?”
fuck, he really was naive. still is. always will be.
“sergeant,” you smiled more to yourself than anything but you saw him clinging to it as if it was his lifeline. “don’t compromise yourself over things you wish were true because they’re easier to come to terms with.” he hung from your words. he alway does. “don’t compromise yourself. you’re all you have, sergeant.”
on that occasion you don’t know why you said those words if to really speak to him and reassure him or to drive him away from your business. you just know you did and it seemed to free him of something and burden you of something else. you just know that sergeant kim namjoon passes through your mind numerous times in the weeks that follow the conversation.
you’re walking further in the alley when you’re forced back to the rainy present by the sound your ears capture in the drowsy silence of the early morning. you take off your hood to listen.
someone is following you. you can hear their footsteps, speeding when you are speeding, slowing down when you do the same. you stop in place. you can feel their presence, hear their breathing, their arms stretching out towards you, a hand coming from behind and reaching out.
a single lit match floats in front of you held by a bodiless fingers.
“surprise.” barely audible, whispered into your neck.
your mouth pulls into a small smile as you stretch your neck to light the cigarette you’re keeping between your lips.
“it’s 5:37.”
a silent kiss is placed on the exposed skin between your jacket and your hair.
“i know.”
“you’re late.” you muse. a drag of the cigarette and you gently blow the smoke in the dark in front of you.
the voice talking to you finally gets a face when the man behind you slowly circles you. he lets his hands travel from your shoulder to your waist as he comes standing in front of you. his eyes are crinkled with glee, his usually mischievous grin softens when he sees how you’re looking at him: amusement hidden by a thin veil of annoyance.
he takes your face in his hands, a rough thumb swipes over your cheekbone. the smell of sulfur hides his usually earthly perfume.
“seven minutes, love.”
“seven minutes late.”
he huffs out a laugh and lets his hands pass through the wet strands of his hair.
he looks good even with ash in them and eye bags under his eyes.
it makes you feel weird when you think about these things. when you find yourself admiring him as if you’ve finally found something worthy in the pool of mediocrity you’ve been swimming in since you can remember. it never occurred to you that people —insipid, dull, hypocritical— could make you feel like you didn’t want the world to end anymore.
they both made you change that about yourself and at first it was alarming how quickly you fell into them. you don’t know what it was but for the first time, you felt seen. not understood or full, no they couldn’t do that with you just as much you couldn’t understand or fill them, but you were visible. you were there, and they were too.
hoseok lazily looks around the dark alley one last time before taking your hand in his and gently pulling you along inside the building, to the flights of stairs that take you to the roof.
you know that with his silence he’s giving you the time to come back to yourself, to hide again what you know he’s already seen time and time again. it’s still hard for you to freely show what you feel but they’ve never pushed you and often you find yourself wanting to tell them how glad you are about it.
“he’s late too, you know. i hope he gets the same treatment when he arrives, mh?” he quips once you reach the roof and the other man’s dark mop of hair is not standing there, tapping an impatient foot on the cement floor.
“he has responsibilities. he’s gonna be late sometimes.”
hoseok gasps, “and i don’t?!”
“your only responsibilities are lighting a match and hiding from whatever mental hospital you ran away from, jack. stop whining, you know i don’t particularly like it when you do it.”
he pouts as you blow smoke in his face. you know he wants to argue against words that are nothing more than simple truth but he settles on whining more. “and i don’t like it when you call me jack.”
“i know.”
“then why do you do it?”
“you’re cute when you’re upset, hobi.”
he sputters out something about indulging crazy people just as the rusty door of the rooftop creaks open.
he stands there. the healed scar on his eyes casts a dark shadow on his porcelain skin. he looks the part, you think. born and raised in the same city that doomed you from the start. you also think that’s why you found him and he found you. you’re not that different.
you take the last drag of the cigarette and throw the butt on the floor, putting it out with the heel of your boots.
“did you finish the job?”
you look up at him as hoseok stands behind you. his hand sneaks to your waist. you know he’s sending a proud smile to yoongi.
“you know we always do,” you answer calmly, truthfully. it’s just facts. you always do. you always follow through with his requests. this time it was seoul police getting too comfortable snooping around his business, the next time could be one of his allies threatening his authority a little too much. he trusts you. you trust him. it’s a mutual act of something akin to what people call love. it’s not even that absurd if one thinks about all the things people say they do for love. you’re just humans like the rest of them. fragments of decay.
“and they said i had ‘behavioral issues’” hoseok scoffs from behind you.
yoongi smiles at the picture in front of him. he takes your hand in his, kisses your knuckles. does the same with hoseok. sweeps a thumb over a dark smudge of coal on his cheek.
the sun must have risen behind the thick layer of clouds —the bubbling of the tempest can be heard in the distance. the three of you stand there, huddled close, subtly holding hands. dark smoke, the blaring siren of an alarm, and faint screams rise from the police station in front of the office building you're in while the rain still cascades unforgiving from the heavens.
a crime lord, a mental hospital escapee, and a sociopath detective enter a bar.
you still don’t get it but you let out a silent chuckle anyway. if it made your partners laugh that much in bed last night then it truly must be funny.
end note. i didn't want to put this at the beginning bc i didn't want to spoil anything but i started writing joon's texts/ voicemails to Y/N after the 'incident' and if you're curious pls tell me i can finish them and maybe do a little drabble spin off on that! lmk <33
We need more dom reader content cus istg everything is sub reader and it makes me sad. Like some fics I love the story but I can’t read the smut because it’s sub reader like-
moot game idea what if u put your moots (and you or maybe their bias) in a prompt generator && rate the likelihoods ^^
hi anon so sorry this took so long to reply to AAA
here r a few quick ones ( + me & heeseung cos it’s MY blog and i’m allowed to be delulu too 🤭) hope u liked this anon i actually had sm w these they’re so cute 😭
solid 9/10 i think heeseung lowkey this type of guy 😭 posting his gfs pictures everywhere and commenting on all her posts to assert his dominance 🤩 flirting w her in the comments 😀 but anyway i docked a point to keep myself in check n make sure i dont go full delusional lmfaooo
@ctrlemis 10/10 SOOBIN RESPECTFUL BOY AWARDDDD 🤭 i can see him being very attentive toward cultural customs and open to learning 🥹💞 CUTIE He deserves a smooch
@flwrshee -8374939/10 nahh fuck this i’m jealous I DIDNT GET THIS ONE W HEESEUNG WHAT THE FUCK WHY IS THIS SOSOSOOSOSS CUTE FUCKYOOOUUUUUUUY????????( 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 this is bsssss heeseung doesn’t even own a phone 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄
@chiyuv 197392/10 THIS IS CRAZYYYYYYY i can def picture user chiyuv having that kind of rizz 🤓 THE OUTWARD FLIRTING is so real i’m pre sure i once saw cael tweet about wanting to meet heeseung so she can aggressively tell him he has pretty eyes 😭😭
@reivrze 100/10 HAHEJWJDJWKSJHAJA THIS MADE ME LAYGH LIKE WHY CAN I PICTURE HOON GOING VIRAL FOR A MEME SAURRRYYYY he just has a memeable face idk😭😭😭 i can def picture miyu/hoon having that goofy friends to lovers dynamic
@shinsou-rii 10/10 THIS IS SO CUTE N FUNNY SO ROMCOM I CAN DEF PICTURE THIS ??? like ri would definitely beat ts out of childhood bf!sunghoon 😭😭😭 I CAN JUST IMAGINE IT HAJDJSJS AND UR LIL SISTERS JOINING IN ON THE SNOW FIGHT TOO??? so cute i love this prompt
@haerinz 19372/10 this is gen so FUCKINGcute AND SO REAL LIKE YES ??? JUNGWON WOULD LROBABLY BE GETTING UP EARLY TO GO DANCE PRACTIce or smth and then feel bad for making noises in the kitchen 😭😭 FAE WOULD STUMBLE OUT THE ROOM IN CONFUSION 😭😭 jungwon would probably kiss her on the forehead as an apology 😭😭 ok i need to stop herE
The Sahara can reach temperatures of over 100°F, but the fennec fox’s ears act like an air conditioning system by cooling the blood in a network of veins.
BBC Earth
you trusted each other but now your words mean nothing and your actions speak the truth.
length. 1.6k
genre. angst until it's not..., fluff, secret au bc i can't spoil
warnings/tags. war language, weapons, non-explicit violence, betrayal, mention of death.
networks. @kflixnet k-labels
notes. oh, how i love writing this au it brings me sm joy you don't understand. hope you like it!
i'm desperate for feedback and i love comments with your opinion!
(cross-posted on ao3 only)
navigation
all is fair in love and war.
your mother used to say it all the time when you and wooyoung were kids and fought constantly over the most stupid things. she always said it with an amused smile on her lips, like she knew something you were not yet privy to, and when you were younger the notion of being kept in the dark by the person you trusted the most angered you. scared you.
you couldn’t understand what those words really meant. what did love and war —irreconcilable antitheses, mortal enemies— have to do with each other? and why did it seem like everyone around you, your older brother included, had accepted the sad juxtaposition as truth?
years passed, you and wooyoung got used to one another, fought less, and the enigmatic phrase seldom left your mother’s mouth to the point that it started to fade away under the new memories of your teenage years.
just when it was about to get buried by your twenties, something happened that you hadn’t thought possible. something you’d skeptically deemed ‘not for you’. he happened. yunho happened.
and your mother’s words finally made sense.
all is fair in love and war because the rules of normal civility do not apply during war-making, and when one is desperately in love; because love and war have universally accepted limits but if one were to break those unwritten rules someone would still find a way to justify, to forgive and forget.
but something in the old proverb felt incomplete.
love and war are not the only gods that rule over the earth and you wonder how did the people that came before you not realize the looming force of the third: business.
what is fair in business?
what about your business? where it costs little to play dirty and it pays off handsomely? in which love is a mere distraction and war is a means to an end?
and now you’re the lonely bearer of the weight of this third secret factor. now that you’re at war and you’re running from love, you think back about the times you didn’t understand and wish to be brought back there. clueless but free.
it feels stupid to think about all this while you’re tiptoeing around the upper floor of the dark arena —battlefield of the ruthless game you all play— but it’s really all you can do, high off adrenaline and anticipation, waiting for someone to distract the unfortunate victim you have chosen for this round just so you can fix the red laser beam on its unsuspecting back and shoot your shot, granting your team one more chance at victory, at survival.
you crouch down, rifle in front of you and you scan the ground sector through your scope.
from up here you can see what goes on in the maze below. every movement, every noise has you drawing a mental map of the players.
you can see jongho’s head slowly but surely cornering a terrified choi san to the east wall of the arena, meaning that sooner than later you’ll have an advantage in numbers over the rival team. from the sound of his shotgun reloading almost faster than it shoots, seonghwa must be stalking down kim hongjoong —sworn enemy and skilled sniper— somewhere around the entrance gates. that leaves wooyoung staring at you from the ground, weapon in hand and eyebrows raised in a telling frown. one that shows you he’s ready to play his part in your minutely crafted plan.
the high wall of the maze is the only thing separating him and your target of choice. kang yeosang leans idly against the hard barrier that cages all of you in like he doesn’t know he’s being hunted for survival, as if he doesn’t realize your brother has been waiting for months to see him fail at your team’s hands.
he starts humming something under his breath too and it’s then that you realize that something– someone extremely dangerous is missing from your mind-map.
when jongho hit one of his teammates in the stomach, your personal and complicated enemy fled the north section before you could follow his movements and with the quick plan of taking out yeosang in full motion you forgot to look for him.
your head snaps to either side of the narrow platform you’re standing on. the thought of his dark eyes watching you this whole time sends chills down your back and makes a heavy weight drop to your stomach.
how did you end up like this?
before the arena, before you started to play this sick game for a chance at a happier life, everything was just as perfect as it could have been.
jeong yunho. same age and lifelong friend of your annoying brother. tall, built, and handsome, one of the most beautiful smiles you’ve ever seen and a laugh you still can’t get out of your head.
your mother was so happy when wooyoung grumpily let the fact that you were stealing his friend away from his group activities slip during a visit home from the city.
and oh, were you happy.
navigating the hardest periods of your young life, in a hostile environment with the sweetest words whispered into your ear every night before you went to sleep.
then the ragtag group of friends you found yourself spending most of your time with, made the cursed discovery. every and each one of you got sucked in before you could realize what it meant.
it stood at the core of the city, a dark monster of metal and neon, big enough just for the bloodshed it hosted. the arena with no physical public, just big screens that displayed what went on in hell.
it started as curiosity and now you face this nightmare every week, hoping to win the glory that you all adamantly desire for different reasons. wooyoung to finally end yeosang’s incredible luck. seonghwa to destroy hongjoon’s ego. jongho for fun. and you to escape the game of cat and mouse you play with the one you trusted with your life.
you shake from your trance and try to listen for any sign that the tall soldier is near.
amongst the noise of the ground floor, you fail to capture the clang of his boots on the metal grate but yunho doesn’t care to hide from you anymore.
from the crouched position you still have, he looms over you with sad coldness, staring you down like he’s trying to understand where you come from.
then he speaks. voice low, gelid. you can feel the anger through it. “did you take mingi out?”
“yunho–”
“he tried to warn me about you, you know. did you?”
you shake your head slightly. your teammate won’t care if you tell on him. your bloodthirsty sniper wants people to know what he’s capable of. “jongho…”
“it was your plan though.”
it’s the truth but it still hurts. “yunho, listen–”
“it’s always your plans that put me in the worst positions.” he aims his gun at your chest, his hands trembling slightly from the strong grip he has on the weapon; knuckles white.
your voice breaks when you speak. “yunho, please i know you don’t want to do this. please.”
“are you really begging right now?” he scoffs. “mingi was your friend, Y/N! you were going to shoot yeosang in the back!” he nods the gun to the ground floor where wooyoung is still waiting for your move. “i’m done with letting you win, i’m sorry. i can’t watch you do this anymore.”
your rifle is your only source of comfort right now and you grip it with all your might. even now you can’t seem to point it at the man that stands before you. even now you can’t bear that you’re on different sides of the same battle.
“you have to understand…” it sounds like he’s trying to justify himself more than anything.
“understand what, yunho?” you spat. “you’re standing over me telling me to understand but i really can’t because you’re doing the same thing! you’re going to kill me and call it justice!”
he flinches.
“look at me in the eyes and tell me you never loved me. tell me that i meant nothing to you, that it was all a lie and then maybe i will understand you.”
“Y/N–”
“i love you.” your eyes cloud with heartbreak and a single tear makes its way down your cheek.
everything is over. betrayed by your own lover. killed by love and war.
his finger moves to the trigger. time slows down. you close your eyes.
“i will always love you.” a whisper.
instead of the bang of the gun a loud siren that resonates throughout the entire arena.
“TIME’S OUT!” yeosang cheers followed by wooyoung’s groans.
mingi and san pop their heads from the exit door with small smiles on their lips. “it’s a draw but we all did great guys!”
the others find their way towards the exit, technical gear coming off while the lights of the arena switch back on.
“just– for next time maybe we should finally change teams so that those two up there don’t go full mr. and mrs. smith on us!” mingi’s loud voice reaches everyone.
“yes, please. it’s just laser tag you guys, no need to be that dramatic over it.” wooyoung’s clearly addressing you and everyone agrees with him with quiet grunts.
your boyfriend who still looms over you throws you an amused grin and offers you his hand to get up. when you’re back on your feet he dusts off your shirt and dries the cinematic tear off your cheek. big hands put your mussed hair behind your ears and cup your face.
“they think we’re too much.”
“they just can’t handle us, yuyu. let them cry.”
he chuckles loudly as you place a sweet kiss on his cheek.
“by the way, next week i’m finally taking you out.” you taunt.
you trusted each other but now your words mean nothing and your actions speak the truth.
length. 1.6k
genre. angst until it's not..., fluff, secret au bc i can't spoil
warnings/tags. war language, weapons, non-explicit violence, betrayal, mention of death.
networks. @kflixnet k-labels
notes. oh, how i love writing this au it brings me sm joy you don't understand. hope you like it!
i'm desperate for feedback and i love comments with your opinion!
(cross-posted on ao3 only)
navigation
all is fair in love and war.
your mother used to say it all the time when you and wooyoung were kids and fought constantly over the most stupid things. she always said it with an amused smile on her lips, like she knew something you were not yet privy to, and when you were younger the notion of being kept in the dark by the person you trusted the most angered you. scared you.
you couldn’t understand what those words really meant. what did love and war —irreconcilable antitheses, mortal enemies— have to do with each other? and why did it seem like everyone around you, your older brother included, had accepted the sad juxtaposition as truth?
years passed, you and wooyoung got used to one another, fought less, and the enigmatic phrase seldom left your mother’s mouth to the point that it started to fade away under the new memories of your teenage years.
just when it was about to get buried by your twenties, something happened that you hadn’t thought possible. something you’d skeptically deemed ‘not for you’. he happened. yunho happened.
and your mother’s words finally made sense.
all is fair in love and war because the rules of normal civility do not apply during war-making, and when one is desperately in love; because love and war have universally accepted limits but if one were to break those unwritten rules someone would still find a way to justify, to forgive and forget.
but something in the old proverb felt incomplete.
love and war are not the only gods that rule over the earth and you wonder how did the people that came before you not realize the looming force of the third: business.
what is fair in business?
what about your business? where it costs little to play dirty and it pays off handsomely? in which love is a mere distraction and war is a means to an end?
and now you’re the lonely bearer of the weight of this third secret factor. now that you’re at war and you’re running from love, you think back about the times you didn’t understand and wish to be brought back there. clueless but free.
it feels stupid to think about all this while you’re tiptoeing around the upper floor of the dark arena —battlefield of the ruthless game you all play— but it’s really all you can do, high off adrenaline and anticipation, waiting for someone to distract the unfortunate victim you have chosen for this round just so you can fix the red laser beam on its unsuspecting back and shoot your shot, granting your team one more chance at victory, at survival.
you crouch down, rifle in front of you and you scan the ground sector through your scope.
from up here you can see what goes on in the maze below. every movement, every noise has you drawing a mental map of the players.
you can see jongho’s head slowly but surely cornering a terrified choi san to the east wall of the arena, meaning that sooner than later you’ll have an advantage in numbers over the rival team. from the sound of his shotgun reloading almost faster than it shoots, seonghwa must be stalking down kim hongjoong —sworn enemy and skilled sniper— somewhere around the entrance gates. that leaves wooyoung staring at you from the ground, weapon in hand and eyebrows raised in a telling frown. one that shows you he’s ready to play his part in your minutely crafted plan.
the high wall of the maze is the only thing separating him and your target of choice. kang yeosang leans idly against the hard barrier that cages all of you in like he doesn’t know he’s being hunted for survival, as if he doesn’t realize your brother has been waiting for months to see him fail at your team’s hands.
he starts humming something under his breath too and it’s then that you realize that something– someone extremely dangerous is missing from your mind-map.
when jongho hit one of his teammates in the stomach, your personal and complicated enemy fled the north section before you could follow his movements and with the quick plan of taking out yeosang in full motion you forgot to look for him.
your head snaps to either side of the narrow platform you’re standing on. the thought of his dark eyes watching you this whole time sends chills down your back and makes a heavy weight drop to your stomach.
how did you end up like this?
before the arena, before you started to play this sick game for a chance at a happier life, everything was just as perfect as it could have been.
jeong yunho. same age and lifelong friend of your annoying brother. tall, built, and handsome, one of the most beautiful smiles you’ve ever seen and a laugh you still can’t get out of your head.
your mother was so happy when wooyoung grumpily let the fact that you were stealing his friend away from his group activities slip during a visit home from the city.
and oh, were you happy.
navigating the hardest periods of your young life, in a hostile environment with the sweetest words whispered into your ear every night before you went to sleep.
then the ragtag group of friends you found yourself spending most of your time with, made the cursed discovery. every and each one of you got sucked in before you could realize what it meant.
it stood at the core of the city, a dark monster of metal and neon, big enough just for the bloodshed it hosted. the arena with no physical public, just big screens that displayed what went on in hell.
it started as curiosity and now you face this nightmare every week, hoping to win the glory that you all adamantly desire for different reasons. wooyoung to finally end yeosang’s incredible luck. seonghwa to destroy hongjoon’s ego. jongho for fun. and you to escape the game of cat and mouse you play with the one you trusted with your life.
you shake from your trance and try to listen for any sign that the tall soldier is near.
amongst the noise of the ground floor, you fail to capture the clang of his boots on the metal grate but yunho doesn’t care to hide from you anymore.
from the crouched position you still have, he looms over you with sad coldness, staring you down like he’s trying to understand where you come from.
then he speaks. voice low, gelid. you can feel the anger through it. “did you take mingi out?”
“yunho–”
“he tried to warn me about you, you know. did you?”
you shake your head slightly. your teammate won’t care if you tell on him. your bloodthirsty sniper wants people to know what he’s capable of. “jongho…”
“it was your plan though.”
it’s the truth but it still hurts. “yunho, listen–”
“it’s always your plans that put me in the worst positions.” he aims his gun at your chest, his hands trembling slightly from the strong grip he has on the weapon; knuckles white.
your voice breaks when you speak. “yunho, please i know you don’t want to do this. please.”
“are you really begging right now?” he scoffs. “mingi was your friend, Y/N! you were going to shoot yeosang in the back!” he nods the gun to the ground floor where wooyoung is still waiting for your move. “i’m done with letting you win, i’m sorry. i can’t watch you do this anymore.”
your rifle is your only source of comfort right now and you grip it with all your might. even now you can’t seem to point it at the man that stands before you. even now you can’t bear that you’re on different sides of the same battle.
“you have to understand…” it sounds like he’s trying to justify himself more than anything.
“understand what, yunho?” you spat. “you’re standing over me telling me to understand but i really can’t because you’re doing the same thing! you’re going to kill me and call it justice!”
he flinches.
“look at me in the eyes and tell me you never loved me. tell me that i meant nothing to you, that it was all a lie and then maybe i will understand you.”
“Y/N–”
“i love you.” your eyes cloud with heartbreak and a single tear makes its way down your cheek.
everything is over. betrayed by your own lover. killed by love and war.
his finger moves to the trigger. time slows down. you close your eyes.
“i will always love you.” a whisper.
instead of the bang of the gun a loud siren that resonates throughout the entire arena.
“TIME’S OUT!” yeosang cheers followed by wooyoung’s groans.
mingi and san pop their heads from the exit door with small smiles on their lips. “it’s a draw but we all did great guys!”
the others find their way towards the exit, technical gear coming off while the lights of the arena switch back on.
“just– for next time maybe we should finally change teams so that those two up there don’t go full mr. and mrs. smith on us!” mingi’s loud voice reaches everyone.
“yes, please. it’s just laser tag you guys, no need to be that dramatic over it.” wooyoung’s clearly addressing you and everyone agrees with him with quiet grunts.
your boyfriend who still looms over you throws you an amused grin and offers you his hand to get up. when you’re back on your feet he dusts off your shirt and dries the cinematic tear off your cheek. big hands put your mussed hair behind your ears and cup your face.
“they think we’re too much.”
“they just can’t handle us, yuyu. let them cry.”
he chuckles loudly as you place a sweet kiss on his cheek.
“by the way, next week i’m finally taking you out.” you taunt.
as an asexual and arospec stay, I have two moods, first, I wanna be besties with skz, have fun, be affectionate with them, be chaotic with them and just laugh my ass off
second, i wanna fuck the the living daylights out of them, until they forget how to even speak
respectfully.
there's sometimes that feeling where i wanna do both of these things but that's kinda rare
ANYWAY UNI IS MURDERING ME, I LOVE MY GIRLFRIEND, PEACE
BYE
-nyx (call me that pls)
THIS IS SO MEEEE, i definitely feel you here nyx
i am just gonna add one more mood tho, and that's looking at pictures of them and feeling an unspeakable amount of gender envy over them. half the time i don't know if i want to be with them or be them because holy hell, they're all just so ✨gender✨ (i dunno how to explain it any other way)
but yeah, three moods in all
bc i also feel like i'd be they'd all be so chill to hang out with and would be amazing, i think like i'd have so much fun doing whatever random shit they do (and i'd definitely jump at the chance to force them to clean up that dorm of theirs, like sometimes i forget that they're actually MEN)
but fuck, they're all just so attractive too and i wouldn't think twice at the chance to fuck them up until they're incoherent and begging (safely and consensually ofc😇)
SCHOOL IS BEATING ME DOWN RN, I'M SO BUSY WITH EVERYTHING I CAN'T EVEN ANYMORE I AM LOSING MY DAMN MIND
back in the days I was a baby stay (god's menu era) i looked at hyunjin for the first time and i literally went "what the actual fuck dude???" Cuz he was SO GENDER (that's the a perfect and probably the only acceptable way to say it)
actually my self expression is similar to hyunjin's but add a bit of dark feminine and a bit of some days when I'm masculine presenting (I'm gender fluid lol)
and like the list goes something like be them, be with them or be besties with them
AND YES, CLEAN UP THAT DORM BOYSS
see my inner INTJ is hurt by looking at the condition of that dorm. like. no. please. no.
and yes I constantly keep forgetting that they are infact men 💀
men irl are kinda uh, yeah-, kinda ew tbh
y'know that one clip of hyunjin shaving, when i saw that first my actually reaction was "oh right. he's a man."
if I knew them irl I'd prolly scare them into cleaning up that place, I'm very intimidating so it'll work
AND YES, I AM LOSING BY LAST SPECKS OF SELF IDENTITY DUE TO SCHOOL, IT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY ATP
(words of someone who graduated high school at 16)
damn 16??? good job and i thought i was smart😭(honour rolls and valedictorian), though i technically did start taking unofficial college courses in highschool, BUT I CANNOT DO IT ANYMORE. I AM SO BURNT OUT RN BUT MORE SHIT KEEPS PILING ON, I SWEAR I HAVEN'T GOTTEN A FULL 3 HOURS OF CONSECUTIVE SLEEP AT ALL THIS WEEK
and okay, you see i came out to family/friends as demi, using she/they pronouns (lost a few friends and family but wgaf) so that's kinda what i use in my daily life though honestly i'd probably use he/him pronouns sometimes too-i don't really know what labels i specifically wanna use because it changes so erratically and so that's why i just use any pronouns on here and why these groups of pretty little men GIVE ME SUCH IMMENSE GENDER ENVY
wanting hyunjin's gender is so real, seeing minho and felix for the first time made me react the same way you did, and hongjoong from ateez makes me wanna claw off my own skin sometimes
i'd take any of the above, being with them, like them or friends with them. in the latter two i'd bully them all into being ashamed of their own living conditions until they cleaned it all up-speaking of which have you seen txt's dorm????? there's a literal bike in their kitchen in a video i saw and cans of roach spray laying around everywhere☠️
this is why men are better theoretically than realistically😭🙏
I second Hongjoong makes me wanna claw my skin of daily. I’m in love with the man istg and i wanna give him so many cuddles and kisses but at the same time god do I wanna fuck the living daylights out of him like- Ugh he’s too perfect and he also gives me so much gender it’s unbelievable. Literally all of them. And don’t even get me started on Yeonjun UGH 😫
I need to stop stanning boy groups they’re gon be the death of me
As for the living conditions… tbh, I’m the messiest person I know and I reckon I could out-mess them lmao
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