#//we'll ignore the mask since this was all i could find of the outfit

[kvmnamjoons]

Kim Namjoon attends the wedding of Lauren and Bill at Whitehouse, Savanna-la-Mar, Jamaica on September 4th, 2024

[whumpbug]

okay okay okay so I held back on this one because I asked alternate already BUT. can you put Gene and Cassidy in a sci-fi story. what would they wear what are their roles do you have scene snippets or dialog? sci-fi is my favorite thing ever and as always feel free to ignore if this isn't the vibe!!! i love you bug /p!!!!!

OHOHOHOHOHHOH SETH I LOVE U /P

i am all for a sci-fi vibe. even if star wars is TECHNICALLY a space opera, i love love love the space setting and i would be DELIGHTED to talk about it.

im gonna word vomit on the page first and them ill try my hand at a few drabbles in this au. strap in for ANOTHER very long post. THANK U AGAIN SETH I LOVE UR ASKS I TRULY CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF THEM /GEN

okay so. since i'm only really well-versed in star wars sci-fi concepts, this is going to be a vaguely star wars inspired au but i'll try to phrase it in a way thats more applicable to sci-fi in General (its always so fun to translate their jobs and personalities into different settings)

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we'll start with gene. idk why but i'm getting very much a bounty hunter vibe from him. like someone who maybe works for a larger organization or guild hunting down notorious criminals (i mention that he works for an Entity bc i think its sort of important that he doesnt choose his bounties himself. he gets them assigned)

i think he would still do it out of a sense of responsibility because he doesn't think bad people should just be running around like that, but also because. a man's gotta make a living. he's gotta pay the bills.

i can see him having his own little ship that he practically lives out of considering how much he travels, and i feel like he'd get very attached to his ship (much like calliope. sorry calliope you've become a spaceship in this au)

OMG AND ALSO A THOUGHT IS BEING BEAMED INTO MY HEAD.

he wears a mask. you can't see his face when he's out doing jobs. he conceals his face, partially because he doesn't want people to see when hes scared or smug or anything like that and partially for the Swag.

that brings me to his overall outfit. i believe in my heart of hearts that gene would wear something like this (i wish i could credit the artist but i couldnt find it)

except instead of an entire helmet, it would be more of just a black piece of cloth pulled loosely over his mouth and nose. and im also seeing him in a very wide brimmed hat that he can tilt down to Brood pls tell me you guys see the vision.

he'd have a little revolver-looking blaster and knowing him, it'd be set to stun. i don't think he really enjoys bringing people in cold, and does his best to avoid it when he can

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OK now onto cassidy. my beautiful darling boy silver. my sweetiepie.

it was kind of difficult to translate his profession into this setting because. it involves more people other than him.

ultimately i decided that, similar to the modern au, he is a part of an underground business, kind of like a rebellion of sorts, that fight against the injustices of the galaxy robin-hood style. of course, montana is the leader (unfortunately) and cassidy is essentially his right hand man

i can see cassidy traveling planet to planet, dismantling corrupt governments, providing for the needy, and having an absolute blast doing it, but his methods are. very illegal. and there is a growing bounty on his head.

nearly every major government wants specifically him locked away for life because of the destruction he's caused, and of course they hire the very best bounty hunter around to track him down.

and of course cassidy is a slippery fellow

cue their little cat and mouse thing they've got going on. gene wants to catch him because if he does, he'd practically be set for life. cassidy runs away because, well. he has a job to do. he can't get caught, especially by the weirdly attractive masked dude that talks to his spaceship.

and lastly, here is what i think cassidy's fit would vaguely look like:

he loves ponchos he can't help it. they're too comfy.

he too would have a little revolver-blaster thing and of course, his knife and hat. one thing that it different is the stolen jewelry. i decided that instead of stealing jewelry from the awful people, he takes mechanical/droid parts for his little buddy that he keeps around named SC-071-1 (haha. ahaha get it. please tell me someone gets it.)

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OK ONTO THE DRABBLES AND SNIPPETS! you get 3 because im feeling Generous /pos. here in the first little snippet for you. this is the two meeting in a bar and not wanting to make a scene (gene tracked him there) (i just wanted to write a silly tense scene)

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Cassidy heard Gene before he saw him.

The man was always stomping around in a way no one could quite replicate. His footsteps were deliberate, cold, and unmistakable.

And they were right behind him.

The business end of a blaster was suddenly pressed into Cassidy's ribs and his mouth went dry.

"I'll have a Jet Juice. On the rocks."

Gene tossed the bartender a coin, to which he grumbled indignantly and began on the drink.

Cassidy risked a sideways glance at the bounty hunter. His expression was unreadable and hidden as always, and he didn't even turn to look at Cassidy. Instead, Gene leaned close and spoke lowly into his ear.

"Make a scene and you're dead. Try to run and you're dead. Turn on your comm and you're dead. Am I clear?"

Cassidy smirked, and mocked a salute. "Loud 'n clear, sir."

Gene gave a curt nod and turned to the bar. The bartender slid him his drink, which he downed in one go, and he was just about to order another when--

He sputtered when he felt something pressed into a certain.. important area. He blanched.

"Didn't say anything about fightin' fire with fire, did you, cowboy?" Cassidy grinned. The sight of the big bad bounty hunter squirming because his family jewels were threatened never got old.

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DRABBLE 2 HERE WE GO. this one is gene finding cassidy after a mission gone sour. cassidy was effectively abandoned by montana with the promise that he would come back for him.

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The whole mission was a bust from the beginning.

Cassidy should have known. He had a gut feeling-- that it was some sort of trap specifically designed for the organization. When he brought it up to Montana, he said that it was just Cassidy being paranoid. And, of course, he believed him. He always did

And now, there he was, beaten within an inch of his life and left to the elements by the government higher-ups.

They really didn't like people messing with their system.

Cassidy took a labored breath for what felt like the millionth time. Each time it was getting harder. His arms were pinned awkwardly above his head and to fill his lungs, he had to pull himself up. It quickly became exhausting.

The worst part was the cold. Montana had mentioned that this planet's average temperature was a little below what Cassidy was used to, but he didn't mention that the city they were infiltrating was located near the northern pole of the planet.

It was freezing.

Cassidy had long since stopped shivering.

He let his head loll forward. He wasn't sure he had the strength to wait for Montana anymore. He wasn't sure he had the strength for anything anymore. Even keeping his eyes open seemed a monumental task.

So, he let them fall shut.

••••

When he woke up, it was because he registered his center of gravity tilting on it's axis.

There was a body pressed against his. And it was warm.

If he had any remaining strength, he would have clung to his rescuer like there was no tomorrow. Instead, he settled for letting his head fall against the person's chest as he let out a pitiful whine.

A hand chafed up and down his shoulder. "Just relax. We'll get you warm. Don't you dare try to run off, Silver."

He wouldn't dream of it. Not when he could feel himself melting to putty in the arms of this stranger.

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LAST DRABBLE it's gene's turn. in this au he has spasthma (space asthma) and sometimes it hinders his job in Not good ways. and cassidy isn't heartless.

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Cassidy really wasn't thinking when he threw the smoke bomb. All he knew was that the damned bounty hunter was catching up and he needed to throw him off.

He did not expect him to fall to his knees with a guttural coughing fit.

It would have been so easy to leave him there to rot, to hop in his ship and escape without looking back.

But when did Cassidy ever take the easy way out?

"Shit," He hissed, darting back to where Gene was kneeled with a palm supporting him on the ground.

He was clutching at his chest, choked gasps leaving him intermittently. His eyes looked vaguely panicked.

"C-Can't--" He wheezed, getting cut off by another coughing fit. He looked as if he was about to topple over.

Cassidy caught him by the arm and dragged him away from the busy street. He propped him up against an wall tucked into an alleyway and began rummaging around in his bag.

One of the younger kids with the Montana's crew had the same condition with all the same symptoms Gene was having right now. The kid was pretty forgetful, and Cassidy always made sure he had an extra rebreather on him. Just in case.

Gene was going to owe him big time.

His fingers finally grazed what he was looking for and he yanked it out, fumbling to get it open. He shook the small canister and pressed it to Gene's lips.

"You have to puff. Just try, okay? Just a little." Cassidy grabbed Gene's hand and placed it on his chest, exaggerating his own breathing to show him what to strive for.

Gene hiccuped slightly before taking a flimsy inhale. He breathed out and tried at it again, and found it gradually got easier.

When he could finally take a deep breath, he collapsed against the wall, panting. His hand didn't leave Cassidy's chest.

"Thank-- thank you," He whispered.

Cassidy smiled.

"Does this mean I get a headstart now?"

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SETH thank you SO VERY MUCH for this ask and this au. i think i may like it more than their original au GOD i love them so so so much FHDJKFH. thank u for the requests and as always PLS dont be afraif to send more if the mood striked you but no pressure ofc! /gen

hope you enjoy my rambling bc this post was LONGGGGG

[mzjmesa]

Out Loud | Chloe Decker

She was a good detective. Is. The pride of the office, the officer praised here and there. Your partner. Your bestfriend. Detective Chloe Decker. It wasn't because of her smart, genius mind that attracted you to her, no. Well, sometimes, anyway. But it could've been alot of reasons, loving Chloe Decker. And you would've loved any other reasons— to make this easier, to make the feelings disappear sooner. Because whatever the attraction was, it was unprofessional— Chloe never did unprofessional. And you fear if you couldn't hold it any longer, she'd run away from you.

You can't bear that.

But you loved Chloe either way. You loved her eyes, her kindness, that bright and knowing smile that goes with her eyes, you loved the way her lips part when she's about to say something defensive— you loved her. You loved her the most when she knocks at your door and asks how you're doing. You loved the late night talks and laughs about freshmen days which was rare, because she never spent so much time in highschool, she got unending stories about it anyway. You loved the way she listens. You loved her. You loved Chloe Decker. And as she passes by your desk, to the man she likes, you reminded yourself that it was wrong. Wrong because you were supposed to be happy for her.

A knock on your desk drifted your thoughts away, Dan. “How are we doing?” he asked, if he'd caught you staring enviously at Chloe and Lucifer, he hadn't mind.

“How are we doing?” You repeated stupidly, still hungover from yesterday. Which by the way was Chloe's fault, you just wouldn't admit it to yourself.

Dan shrugs, “Yeah? I sent you files to look at, remember?”

Oh.

You shake your head as though it would help you focus on the present and tried to remember where you had placed the papers. You checked your drawers, trying hard to block out Chloe and Lucifer's voices. You busied your hand flipping through dozens of papers, vividly remembering the file's name.

Jonathan Flinn's. Ahh. Case closed for 2 months, there wasn't much evidence of the murder, but the majority linked to him, and eventually the court pronounced him guilty. There had been questions left unsolved, and if Espinoza wasn't up to anything, it would've been left at that.

You sighed, “Have you talked to Chloe about this?”

“Yeah,” He looked past your shoulder to where Chloe was, then back to you. “she thinks it's a bad idea.”

Of course she did. You did, too. That was a thing between you two, something about your guts always telling you the same what's what. That's why you were partnered with her, and you would've loved to continue being one (although truth be told, you still were in papers anyway) but she'd found a consultant, a batshit crazy one at that. Lucifer Morningstar. Always telling himself he's the devil, going on and about his everyday life like anyone gives a damn, and always making everything about himself. If he wasn't charming, and a ‘friend’ of Chloe's, you would've hated him. Most times you did. But times when Chloe was down, he was always the first to cheer her up. You used to be the one doing that, until he came.

“You should listen to her, Dan.”

“Oh c'mon! I would've agreed with Chloe and wouldn't have come to you if it weren't so important. His mother is my god—”

“—mother. Yes, yes, I know that, Dan. I know you think this is a good idea to pay her back, too. But it's not, trust me. Trust Chloe.” You exhaled, feeling the weight of her stare on your back. “It could go worst anyway, what when we can't find any evidence or if we do, worst case scenario is it'll only lead to him. Again. We'll just worsen his situation.”

Dan sighed, massaging his jaw with exasperation because he knew you were right. And also because as much as he pretends not to care too much, he does. You loved that about him.

As you heard footsteps behind, you handed back the files to Dan who hid it behind his back, masking his irritation with a smile to Chloe.

You ignored her, lingering your eyes on the missing button of Dan's shirt.

“Ella found some prints, we haven't identified it yet but it's likely our lead.” Chloe started just behind you, and you knew Lucifer was beside her as much as you hated it. “In the meantime, Dan? I'd like to discuss to you about the Flinn case, Lucifer and I went back to the crime scene yesterday. We found nothing.”

Dan frowned. “I thought you said it was a bad idea.”

“I know, I know. I... ugh... well I went over it again, anyway.”

A small smile creeped on his face, and you were almost sure his eyes were watering when Lucifer jumped on the conversation about his father, bla bla bla. You couldn't care less. Chloe did, and that should be enough for Lucifer. She'd always been enough for you. You bit your lips, wishing you could busy your hands with something. Anything. But your desk was on your back, and oh, Chloe, too.

It felt immature and all, but you were hurting just knowing they were together, seeing them would break you.

“I'll check in on with Ella.” Chloe announced, “(Y/N)?”

“Are you having a stroke Miss (L/N)? Staying still like a trained robot, you're scarying me— and believe when I say I rarely get scared.” Lucifer added.

Oh you believe alright. And robots are trained?! Trying to hide your feelings with a forced smile, you turned around, making sure you weren't going to make an eye contact with a certain detective, and immediately grabbed a random paper and pen you can hold— scribbling anything. Anything at all.

“I'm alright.” You answered after a beat or two, still unbothered to look. Who would want to, honestly.

Chloe cleared her throat, whispered something to Lucifer, and then bid goodbye. It was then when you looked at them walking away. Lucifer's hand on her back, Chloe looking small beside him— your chest aching the same, if not, more.

You're definitely not gonna look again.

-

You had a week off work, and you'd almost fell to your knees thanking God when the lieutenant told you. You needed it more than you needed Chloe, which proves just how important it was— Chloe had been. Still is, by the way.

It was 8 am, by now Chloe would be at her desk, examining or making reports, or on a crime scene with Ella and, Lucifer. You snapped out of your mind, reminding yourself you'd needed the vacation because work and particularly Chloe had been stressing you out and very much so hurting you.

You'd hit the beach, go to the mountains for the view,— you didn't wanna hike though, you needed rest not making sweats— visit your sister and niece, and then finally bake while blasting Taylor Swift because admit it or not, you're much broken than your grandmother's vase.

When the water was hot enough, you took a bath and dressed. A peach-colored tank top that comes along with a brown mini skirt and a coat was your outfit for the day. Only, the coat reminded you too much of Chloe's. She liked coats. And that coat, back then warning you that she'd steal it eventually. So you changed with other coats, just didn't fit well with the shirt and skirt, so you gave in and left your hair untouched and untied. Grabbing your pouch and your gun— a licensed one, just in case. And opened your door. You would've preferred the bright sky and fresh air of the morning in LA. But Chloe Decker was standing there, fist on air as if she'd been ready to knock.

You froze.

Were you having a stroke? Most likely.

“(Y/N).”

“Chloe.”

Wasn't she supposed to be at work? You didn't mind either way, but it surprised you still, she hadn't been visiting much since... Lucifer. Everything's just been different since he arrived, not in a good way for you.

You stepped aside, not saying anything since you figured out a human wouldn't understand any word that comes out of your mouth. She went in, instead of sitting on your couch like the old days, she lingered on the living room, standing and looking at you.

Most times you hadn't mind.

She started, “How are you?”

“I'm good.”

“No, (Y/N). How are you?”

You didn't know what to say. Or why she'd ask a question as that. “I'm not—”

“Do you like me?”

What.

Your face must've given the shock, because she answered your unasked question. “Dan said some things. I'm-I'm not— you're not transferring, are you?”

Oh you're definitely gonna choke the life out of Dan. But knowing him, he wouldn't have spit it out too easily. He was probably drunk and didn't mean it. Still, you wished you said it to Chloe yourself. About the liking and transferring.

You remained silent, reading the expression on Chloe's face. Was she sad? Upset? After years of knowing her, you would've known right away. But now you couldn't. And you fear you might've forgotten the every detail of her face, too.

“(Y/N)...” Her voice gave out, carrying every sadness within. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“About what?” You answered stupidly in a whisper, fearing that if you came into your senses everything would feel too real.

“About everything! About— about your feelings for me. About Seatte. About why you've been so far from me!”

“You have been far from me, Chloe.”

She frowns, and you knew millions and billions and gazillions of questions where popping in her mind.

Tears in your eyes were forming, and you hated it, all of this. She wasn't supposed to know at all. She wasn't supposed to know you had immature feelings for her. Wasn't supposed to know you were transferring atleast 'till next month. But Chloe wasn't dumb, and you should've known that.

Chloe swallowed the lump in her throat, her breathing heavy. “We could've talked about it.”

“We haven't talked much at all these days because of—” you cut yourself off, rolling your eyes at how sick it feels. You hated yourself for it, but you continued anyway. “Because of Lucifer.”

She exhaled. “Lucifer and I are complicated.”

“I know that, Chloe.” You said firmly, meeting her gaze pitying you. Of course she pities you. “I also know you like him so much. I know you've been crying when he fake married that Candy. I know you've been sick worrying when he can't answer your texts or calls. I know you've gone lengths trying to understand him. I know. I know so much so that I didn't wanna be so selfish and tell you things you didn't wanna hear because it'll make your complicated relationship with Lucifer even more complicated. I fucking know. And I loved you too much.”

Chloe's tears were beginning to fall, one by one, slowly. And it hurts you to see her like this. Especially because you know you caused it.

“It was never my intention to push you away. You're my friend— can't we just stay like this?” She asked in a soft, breaking voice. And if it wasn't Chloe you would've said yes because people are easy to move on from. But it was indeed Chloe and she was... not like anyone you know. She was a missing piece of your puzzle. Only, you have never been a piece of hers.

“I love you, Chloe.”

It was weird, saying it out loud, to her. You never thought you could, knowing you were a coward than every cowards combined.

You did though, and that must've pulled something. Because Chloe approached you, side hugged, and then left.

So much for a vacation.

You spent the night crying.

Chloe Decker spent hers with the man she loved. And you were never that man.

[aelin-queen-of-terrasen]

chapter - one | beautiful disaster

Full Masterlist

Beautiful Disaster Masterlist

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I watch the door, awaiting his arrival.

Cardan struts into the building with his eyes fixed on his phone. He looks as unimpressed with everything around him as the last time I saw him. His clothes are ironed to perfection, the crisp collar of the black shirt barely covering most of his tattoo, save for the serpent's head that peeks out from beneath it. I'm convinced his outfit alone is worth more than the annual salary I receive from Balekin.

He looks up at me and the force of my hatred hits me like a brick to the face, all my plans feeling impossible now.

"Shouldn't you be somewhere else, licking Balekin's boots, pleasing him and all, Jude?" he sneers. There's so much disdain between us, it feels impossible that it would ever be otherwise.

I will myself to ignore his barb. I'm used to much worse insults, and to retort might increase my chances at failure. But I'm drunk on my resentment at his position; he has everything I ever wanted, and yet he laments about it. His presence makes me reckless, makes me want to do things I shouldn't do.

"At least I'm capable of pleasing him." I tell him with a small smirk.

His rage is prominent on his face now, the mask of boredom gone. He looks so heartbreakingly beautiful even when he's angry, it seems unfair. I try to dredge up some pity for him. He has a brother who is hell-bent on making him a copy of himself, another brother who hates him, an indifferent father and a scheming harlot for a mother.

Yet, did Madoc not raise me to become a mirror of himself? Surely, he can't resent me for something I do not have.

But he does. I see it in his eyes everytime he looks at me, how unworthy he thinks me of everything. The feeling is mutual, the hatred between us as intense as it is unreasonable. It's for Dain, and for the gang I belong to, that I bother to look at him, to earn his trust.

I step forward, deliberately putting pressure on the heel of my left foot. The near broken sandal gives out, and I fall into Cardan's arms.

His coal black eyes burn into mine with an intensity I do not expect. I am so sure that he'll drop me, but his grip remains firm as ever. His phone falls onto the ground with a loud thud but he pays it no mind. For a moment, all his attention is directed on me.

It feels as wonderful as it's scary.

When I pull away, my heart pounds loudly against my chest. "Balekin wants you to see him as soon as you arrive."

"Of course he does," he mumbles something else, then walks off.

Cardan's phone lies on the floor, right where it fell earlier. I allow myself a small, triumphant smile. I am quick to retrieve it, limping away with one show broken and remind myself to find an extra pair to change into before I arrive at Dain's mansion.

I find Lilliver the first thing when I enter. "Unlock this one for me, then bring it over; you have thirty minutes."

Dain is neck deep in paperwork when I knock on the open door.

"Ah, Jude," he looks up with a grin, "one of these days, you should listen when I tell you to walk right in, don't knock."

His eyes move over my body, expression morphing into concern as he assesses me. To save him the question, I say, "I'm fine, he didn't suspect a thing. Should I be offended you don't trust your own second-in-command's abilities?"

I slide into the chair across from him. He still looks unsure, so I add: "He may loathe me, but he is no murderer."

Dain's expression darkens a little, the goofy grin vanishing from his face. "He was still raised to be ruthless and cruel. Forgive me if I worry about you, Jude," The words sound like a lament, and his voice is softer when he continues, "It's such an inconvenience to be worried you might get hurt because of me."

"I appreciate that," I tell him, lips twitching up in amusement, "but if it came down to it, I could kick his ass."

"I know you can." Dain talks with so much conviction, it's impossible not to feel as if I'm invincible, though I'm not.

He clears the space in front of him of all files, then looks at me expectantly. Rolling my eyes, I climb atop the desk, legs resting on either side of his chair. He stands between my legs, leaning forward. He presses his lips to my jaw, leaving a trail of kisses down my throat.

"We need to, ah, talk about the—" he nips at a particularly tender spot on my neck. My body archs into his touch, giving him better access. I can't supress my moan, more grateful for the soundproof walls than ever—"Oh, Dain—aboutthe shipment we're..." The rest of my words dissolve into a loud moan when he nips at the spot with his teeth, his hands sliding up my thighs, hovering over my jeans' waistband.

"I'd rather not talk about it," he simply tells me, hands roaming everywhere but at the spot where I want them.

"What do you, ahhh, want to talk about then?" I ask him, knowing the answer.

His lips hover inches away from mine, curled into a fiendish grin. "I don't want to talk at—" he is interrupted by the sound of something crashing on the ground and a muffled curse.

I pull away immediately, feeling as embarassed as Van looks, if not more. "I'm sorry, I thought you'd want to—ah, it was urgent, I didn't think you'd, ahem, I don't..." His words grow more garbled with each moment that passes.

Taking pity on him, Liliver interrupts, "Bad timing? We can come back later."

"No, we'll have a look now—unless Jude wants otherwise?" All eyes turn on me, still on the desk with my legs parted, hair mussed and a flushed look on my face. I'm sure there's a hickey on my neck, adding to my embarassment.

Dain looks amused at my condition and I know he did it on purpose. I want to slap him on the face for it. His eyes shine with mirth when he looks at me. "Jude, love, will you mind terribly if I ask you to sit on a chair for a few? Though of course, my lap is available—"

I scramble off the desk and slide a chair towards him, taking a seat before he can continue. Liliver gives us a knowing look, and I have no doubt my face has turned scarlet. It's one thing to have everyone know you have a 'friends with benefits' thing going with your boss; it's another to be caught doing it.

Van slides the phone I stole towards Dain, who passes it to me. "Take whatever information you can find, and have someone drop you off—"

"That's not necessary," I assure him and take my leave, rifling through the contents in his phone.

As predicted, Cardan isn't as given to secrecy. I transfer all the files with ease, have the phone locked and ready to be returned and still a half hour to spare. I'm not surprised by how much Balekin keeps his brother in the loop, or by Cardan's disinterest in all of it. What does surprise me is the business acumen he seems to have. He is clever with his words, creative with his ideas and efficient in their execution. If I wasn't dead set against him, I'd have been impressed.

I wait until I know he'll be outside his office to come with his phone, and I am surprised to find Madoc with him. I hesitate for a moment, but decide to charge through. I can't wait too long to return it, lest I draw suspicion.

He looks surprised to see me outside, but then he blinks and the expression is replaced with one of casual boredom.

Madoc regards me with suspicion, eyes narrowed and a small crease between his eyebrows. He says, "Jude, what are you doing here? It's an off day—"

"—I know," I tell him, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. "But if he had his way, I'd have an off day for the whole year. I wanted to see if there's something around here I could do."

Madoc throws a cautious look towards Cardan, as if to make sure he's not displeased my casual censure of his brother. I could care less what Balekin thinks of me, he has never liked me much after all. I have no idea what I did to deserve his scorn but it's always been that way, and if I wasn't his loyal second-in-command's daughter, he won't have me here at all. He doesn't trust me very much.

And with good reason, I suppose. I've been spying on him almost ever since I joined, after all.

Cardan only raises a groomed eyebrow at me, as if to ask why I'm here. He must be in better spirits, because his expression is lacking the usual bite to it, though he looks impatient to leave. That might be more because of Madoc than me. Madoc has made no secret of his dislike towards the youngest of the Greenbriar brothers.

"Your phone," I extend it towards him. "It fell down this morning, when I tripped." I ignore Madoc's questioning look.

Cardan accepts his phone with a little shrug, but then there's a furrow between his eyebrows and I'm scared he has figured out that I stole information from it. I hold my breath, willing my hands not to tremble as he turns his assessing gaze on me. When he looks up at me, I feel like he can see every terrible thing I did, and it makes me more vulnerable than anything else.

He steps closer, forcing me to take a step back and repeats the process until I'm backed up against the glass wall of the building.

His hand comes to rest around my throat—a threat and a warning. "I know what you did, Jude. And there will be consequences for it." I can feel his breath in my ear, and blood rushes up to my face. There's nothing human in his expression. I'm afraid of his grip on my throat, the vile creature reflected in his black eyes but most of all, I'm afraid of the warmth I feel where his skin brushes against mine.

"I-I don't know what you're-what you're talking about," I stammer out.

"Don't you, Jude?" It seems impossible that he could be any closer, but he presses in anyway, and his grip tightens. His body presses against mine and all thoughts fly out of my head.

I shut my eyes close, and when I open them again, I realise it was imagination.

Cardan is looking at his phone still, but Madoc gives me a strange look. His eyes fix on the lovebite on my neck. I curse myself for not hiding it before.

My father's gaze travels from me to Cardan and back; it takes everything in me not to shout that it's not what he thinks at all. I bristle under his disapproving glare, choosing to ignore it too. Let him believe what he does. His assumptions are a thousand times less explosive than the truth. What would Madoc do if he found out where I spend my off days, which gang I work for? I shiver at the thought, distracted enough that I don't notice Cardan's gaze until he clears his throat.

"Thank you," he tells me, but somehow, he manages to make it sound like an insult. Before I can reply, he stalks off.

I hate how intoxicating his presence is, how he makes me writhe and tremble and crave for his attention, but hate it when he gives it. I have to remind myself I'm the predator, not him. This is my game, and I'm the one pulling all the reins. I hold all the power here. The repeated thoughts do nothing to erase the vision in my head, of his eyes, cruel and gleaming with hatred, and his grip on my throat, warm and painful and restricting my lungs and that tone; god, the mere thought of that chilling, ice cold gaze sends shivers down my body.

But this is my game, and by the time I'm done with him, the tables will turn.

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Let me know if you'd like to be tagged. Also, I'm trying new things: first person pov, a little touch of smut, and a new writing style. Feedback is invaluable rn, through anon asks or comments or whatever way you feel comfortable!

[mari-the-hedgiewolf]

Annoyance (Ghost Face X Reader) (Dead by Daylight)

A/N: Yo! How's it going? Decided to write this during my vacation, so for any misspelling, I apologize. Enjoy! (Based of a real match in the game I had).

---

The Endgame Collapse. The late event's introduction was an . . . interesting addition to say the least. We had to escape in a certain amount of time before the Entity decided to finish the job the killer couldn't achieve during the trial. It had a reasonable logic behind it, but the most infuriating 'mechanic' the killers gained was the ability to close the hatch. The black lock was no longer a viable exit unless you had a key.

And to make things worse, a new killer was pulled into the Entity's realm. We didn't see them yet, we could only feel their presence, away from the survivor's campfire, however, the tension lingered in the air.

I felt the familiar strike mark glow on my chest, looking around to see who my teammates would be. Claudette gave me a small smile, while Ace and Nea nodded towards me, the former flashing his famous grin. It only took a few seconds before everything went black.

---

Haddonfield. Not my particular cup of tea due to the layout, especially since my landing is not as balanced as Nea, but as long as it's not Hillbilly or Trapper, I think we'll be okay. I walk towards the main house, checking the lights to see if there's a generator inside. There is, so I quickly scan the upper floor and find it just beside the staircase. Huffing in annoyance since only one person can fix it, I start connecting the lose wires inside.

Feeling chills running through my spine, I looked around to see if Myers was stalking me, monitoring my actions and abusing the little sanity I still have left.

. . . Nothing . . .

Strange . . . I feel like I'm being watched, but there's nothing here. Shaking my head and slapping my cheeks slightly to snap out of it, I focused on the generator in front of me, as I hear the first one out of five being completed.

Ignoring the whooshing sound that stopped, thinking it was the wind.

(Time skip)

God, how did this game turn completely upside down? We were fine just a few minutes ago! Poor Claudette was the first one sacrificed, trying to save me from the second phase, then Nea, and finally Ace.

I was the only one left.

I knew where the hatch was, I just had to jump off the balcony of the house and run towards the hedge bushes, where it spawned, right by the bench! I was about to jump off when I froze.

Right beside the hatch was the new killer.

Oh for f*ck's sake-

He was covered in a dark outfit, the most noticable feature was his mask. In his hand, a knife covered in blood was being twirled for entertainment. He didn't notice me yet. Good. I slowly vaulted my way through the window, crouching to get closer. Unfortunately, it seems he heard the wood of the balcony creak, looking at me directly.

My breath hitched. Even if I couldn't see his face, I could feel his intense gaze on me. While I was distracted, he had raised one of his feet, my eyes widening in realization. "Oh no. No no no, don't you dare-"

He closed the hatch, making the realm tremble as the trial began to collapse.

I had to hold myself back from jumping out of the balcony out of anger, as he seemed to chuckle at my reaction. I glared at him, but he was unfazed. "Aww, I'm so sorry~ I closed your last escape, didn't I?~ Please, have mercy on poor little Ghostface~" he chuckled once again, amused by his own words.

I didn't think twice before taking a leap through the window. I could feel my heartbeat increase, but I vaulted the window again, this time silently, jumping off the balcony in hopes of hiding from him and possibly opening a gate. Unfortunately, he doubled back, sinking his knife into my back, a scream erupting from my throat before I fell to the ground harshly.

'Of course . . . No One Escapes Death . . .' I thought, sighing in defeat. "Don't feel bad you lost~ After all, it was inevitable with your friends gone~" He whispered in my ear, lifting my chin up to look at his mask. I glared at him, feeling his growing smirk underneath it. Throwing me onto his shoulder, he carried me to a hook near the closed hatch on purpose, a scream erupting from my throat as I felt the meat hook impale my shoulder.

I barely had time to think before the Entity's claws were close to sacrificing me. The last thing I saw was GhostFace waving his hand at me, saying "Bye bye~" before everything went black.

He may have won this time, but this won't be the last match I have with him. And I'll sure to have stunning surprise when the trial comes.

A/N: More teasing than being lovey-dovey, but a nice change for once. I hope you enjoyed it!~