#*snuffed ; ooc

[crownshattered]

|| Me, reading up on drow lore (specifically personality traits: Hmm, interesting... *drops it in the trash*

[ofyorkshire]

thinkin' about............... vindictive, angry, vengeful bj.

[blueheartedmayor]

Good morning again.

I am warning everyone now. I have been thinking of WKM!Damien. You may (or may not) know that I said that when he became the dark being after DAMIEN, Dante lost his humanity.

Well, I've been thinking about what precisely I mean by that (since it isn't just the literal meaning of being a human) and... let's just say the criminal charges put against him were actually acts of kindness (and being framed in one instance). Be prepared for feels.

[magiclcss]

the urge to scream about kaede in her bsd verse is strong tonight folks

[liesandalibis]

oh, my kingdom for a gren ( ˘ ³˘ ) ♥

[juricel]

I got an idea for a yandere shadow milk thing...a yandere concept i thought up in general.

Imagine yandere shadow milk with a love who just...doesn't fight back. Like they laze around shadow milk's home, let's him shower them with affection, and just easily gives in...to the point where even shadow milk would be so concerned why y/n just...gave up to him so easily.

Think it's because of him being a very powerful beast? No! It's because y/n is just...weak and had just...given up.

If ya wanna go darker...maybe say they had a bad homelife or something? If you're uncomfortable with that then feel free to make your own reason why reader is...well already broken in a way so they just accept shadow milk taking them in and stuff...

Like can already imagine some senarios like shadow milk putting y/n outside to get some fresh air and trying to spark some life back into them but what do they do? They just...waddle back into the spire and flop onto the couch.

Just an interesting concept of a love who has already given up before the yandere-ness even started and just goes with the flow...

Sorry if this is a weird concept and if ya don't wanna do it, it's completely fine and I can always just send in another request to replace this one.

If you do end up writing it...I hope you enjoy it! If not then apologies if this request makes ya uncomfortable in any way/shape/form...

a/n: it's a pretty unique idea! and nono, don't worry, if anything, i have written worse before so no worries!

— yandere! shadow milk cookie x corpse-like! reader hcs

໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა ۪ ׂ CONTENT WARNING: surprisingly not much content warning, yanderes, heavy possessive and obssessive behavior, unhealthy relationship, implied forced established relationship, mentioned mindbreak, implied physical and emotional abuse, potential ooc.

𖦁 shadow milk cookie adores puppets (cookies); doted on the way they come haywire when deluded when brainwashed with illusions, doted on the way they struggle and kicked like overturned beetles, their legs scrabbling at the air, at nothing, at everything—scrambling and holding onto grains of sand between their fingers to maintain their sanity. a deliciously absurd, perfectly grotesque show! they were foolish—adorable! and shadow milk cookie, ever the connoisseur of folly, relished their spasms, their little convulsive rebellions against the strings they could not see. a puppet is at its most exquisite when it believes in its own freedom, when it writhes not out of obedience but out of some feverish, implanted conviction that it resists. he watched them with the indulgence of an artist admiring his own brushstrokes—oh, the precision of their programmed passions, the meticulous choreography of their so-called thoughts! one whispered suggestion, a single tug at the right filament, and behold!—a revolution, a devotion, a hatred, all flaring up like phosphorous, consuming, dazzling, and then, just as suddenly, extinguished: it always never failed to draw a good laugh from him, but oh, his sweet moth-lit darling, his dear starved seraph, didn't fall under the category.

𖦁 at first, he was ecstatic—how prettily you danced, how sweetly you swayed to the tug of his strings. his dear puppet, so pliant, so perfectly wound to his will. but oh, how swiftly delight sours into monotony! the charm of obedience is in its resistance, in the tension before surrender, in the flickering illusion of will before it is snuffed out. and you, poor thing, had gone limp too soon, a marionette whose joints no longer creaked, whose painted eyes no longer widened in horror or bliss. what was left to do but break you apart? a toy must shatter to be new again, to sing anew in its ruin. but even as he wrenched and twisted, even as he chipped away at that fragile veneer, you remained—ah, how dreadfully, how disappointingly the same! the same sweet darling, limp as a wilted bloom, with a demeanor not unlike a corpse cooling beneath its shroud. and oh, how that vexed him, bringing a petulant frown to his lips.

𖦁 and almost, almost, he feels bad but not enough to free you from his strings. of course, he could try again—he always could. and yet, the results, much to his mounting vexation, remained unchanged. you remained unchanged. a broken puppet that did not twitch, a porcelain thing that refused to shatter properly, no matter how fervently he willed it. and so, in a rare moment of something almost resembling consideration, he entertained the notion—briefly, ever so briefly—of letting you go. not as an act of mercy, no, but as an experiment. don't get him wrong! he adored you best when you were a ruin of his own making, deadened, petrified, crumbling deliciously at the seams—but only when it was by his hand. the thought of anyone else attempting to unmake you, to claim the pleasure of watching you fall apart—ah, the sheer audacity! he would kill them. and he would do it without fanfare, without flourish, as one swats an insect interrupting an evening’s amusement. So, for once, he loosened his grasp, allowed you the illusion of escape, certain—no, convinced—that this taste of freedom would rekindle the lost spark, that you would return quivering, trembling, gasping, that the dance would begin anew with the liveliness he so craved. but oh. oh, how infuriating. you returned just as you had left—unshaken, unchanged, that same placid corpse as you were. the same glass-eyed indifference, the same dreadful, impenetrable stillness. A doll left too long in the rain, not softened, not weakened, merely waterlogged with something he could neither extract nor break.

𖦁 ah, how he despised it, that wretched imperfection, that offense to his carefully curated world. there must be a way to remedy it, to smooth out the unsightly edges, to make you whole—no, to make you better.

a/n: juricel writing a somewhat soft yandere shadow milk cookie?? hmm! for a good while, i was actually stuck on how to make him soft while still making him the good ol shadow milk cookie i like... do you guys prefer this shadow milk cookie or a meaner version?

[grudgecollector]

Afterglow | Nam-gyu / American!Reader

You're reading part one

Story Summary: Nam-gyu gets a new job and finds himself falling for the girl behind the deli counter. Words: 1.4k Tags/Warnings: Nam-gyu and Thanos have PTSD, canon divergence, Thanos lives, denial, mentions of death/blood/murder, angst, panic attacks, drug use, NOT PROOF READ A/N: This is SOOO self indulgent, like insanely self indulgent.

This is my first ever Squid Game fic. Will be multi-part story, I'm still a little rusty with my writing as I'm still getting back into it. So hopefully this is okay.

This may be a little OOC, but erm i do not care. He's my little meow meow

PART TWO | MASTERLIST

Two years... It's been two years and yet Nam-gyu’s hands still tremble so fiercely. His chest still felt tight with guilt, unable to look at his own reflection. He could barely stomach his food anymore, each meal mushy and tasteless. Nothing felt right, his shoes constantly felt like they were on the wrong feet, his hands never felt clean, and his mind felt like it was being torn to shreds. 

He felt fragile, ready to break at any point. 

Nam-gyu thought he was doing better, he thought that the memories finally subsided. The horrible things he had done as a way to survive were finally buried behind him. 

With each loud bang that echoed outside his apartment he could see them. The bodies, blood, the horrified looks in their eyes right before their lives were snuffed out.

He could remember the way his heart raced, pounding so fiercely against his ribcage, a cold sweat forming on the back of his neck.

He could still feel Se-mi’s blood on his hands, the warmth of it slipping between his fingers and under his nails. 

Tears clouded Nam-gyu’s vision, his head tilting back against the cold tile of the shower, hoping that the loud rush of water could block out the thundering sounds of fireworks outside. 

Every crackling pop made him jump, his blunt nails digging into the skin of his thighs. 

It was New Years in America, and yet Nam-gyu could not find it in himself to celebrate. 

“Fuck…” Nam-gyu whimpered, stifling a sob against the back of his hand. What had he done…

He had to do it… He had to do it… He had to do it… 

Nam-gyu closed his eyes, feeling that cold sweat rush back over him as the memory of Se-mi’s lifeless body flashed in his head. His trembling hands quickly shot up to his face, smacking against the sides of his head harshly. 

He wished so badly he could just erase those games from his mind, forget everything.

Anything… He would do anything…

“Nam-gyu! Hey man!” Su-bong slammed his hands on the closed door of the bathroom, making the man inside yelp loudly, “Stop hiding in the bathroom, come on let’s drink or something!” 

“Leave me alone…” Nam-gyu whispered, “Leave me alone…” He clenched his eyes shut, burying his head between his legs. 

“Nam-gyu!” 

There were suddenly hands on his shoulders.

Nam-gyu flinched, tears now flowing freely from his eyes as his head whipped up, for a split second he thought he saw pink and black. His heart felt like it would beat out of his chest, and he could barely move on his own volition thanks to how harshly his body shook. 

“Leave me alone!” His voice was broken up by sobs, eyes unable to focus. 

“Hey! Nam-gyu calm down, it’s just me!” Su-bong could feel his hair getting wet as he got closer to Nam-gyu, the spray from the shower pouring down on the both of them, “Come on man, you know where you are.” His hand smacked against Nam-gyu’s face lightly. 

“I can’t-” Nam-gyu’s hand went to his chest, the t-shirt he was wearing soaked all the way through, “I can’t…. Breathe. Fu… Fuck.” 

Su-bong stared at his best friend with wide eyes, “Alright buddy, I’m gonna need you to look at me.” 

Nam-gyu tried his best to focus, the flash of Su-bong's blue hair breaking through his spotty vision. 

Su-bong tried his best to help him, guiding his breathing, and whatever other methods that were listed out in those videos he watched months ago. He made sure that Nam-gyu followed his instructions, watching as his shoulders started to relax, his chest finally rising and falling at a normal rate. 

Nam-gyu was still shaking, but Su-bong already had a plan to help calm him down. 

~~~

He was finally able to drag Nam-gyu from the bathroom after twenty minutes, forcing him to change out of his soaked clothes. Pushing him into his room before closing the door.

Su-bong busied himself with rolling another blunt while he waited for his friend.

After a minute or two of staring at himself in the mirror, Nam-gyu came out of his bedroom in just an oversized t-shirt and pajama pants. A bright pink vape was in his right hand, and a throw blanket was slung over his left shoulder. 

“It’s about time.” Su-bong sighed, leaning back against the arm of the couch. “Sit. I rolled you one too.” He placed the blunt between his own lips and lit it. 

Nam-gyu brushed a strand of wet hair behind his ear, throwing his blanket down on Su-bong’s legs before sitting on the opposite side of the couch, feeling his friend's foot tap against his thigh. 

“You good, man?” 

“You always roll so badly.” Nam-gyu commented as he reached over for the blunt left on the coffee table. 

“Just smoke it, Nam-su.” Su-bong chuckled, kicking a foot against Nam-gyu’s thigh. 

Nam-gyu glared at him harshly, earning a louder laugh from his friend. 

“I’m just fucking with you, bro.” 

The next hour passed by quickly, Nam-gyu’s hands finally stopped shaking and he felt much more relaxed. His heart finally stopped beating so harshly, his body barely reacting to the fireworks outside now. 

He sank down on the couch, his back practically laying down on the cushions and his knees knocking against the coffee table. He brought a hand up to brush his long hair from his eyes, looking to the side to find Su-bong scrolling through TikTok. 

“Ever hear back from that job you applied for?” Su-bong asked suddenly, glancing up from his phone. 

“Huh?” Nam-gyu blinked, “Oh yeah… Uh I should be starting in a few days.” 

Su-bong hummed, nodding to himself before looking back down at his phone. 

~~~

The morning air nipped against your skin as you opened your car door, the hinges groaning in protest. Fog covered most of the parking lot, the sun trying its best to break through the clouds above your head, wind blew the leaves from underneath your car just as you shut the door. 

A sigh fell from your lips, you were so tired. 

“Good morning.” You smiled at one of your co-workers that stood behind the counter, an excited squeal came from her as she looked up. 

“Finally! I’ve been waiting for you to get here.” 

You chuckled quietly, finger gently tapping against the energy drink you were holding, hoping it’ll carry you through the next eight hours quickly. I should have gone to bed earlier last night.

Danny put down the paper she was holding once you rounded the corner, a smile curved her lips as she dug through the pocket of her vest. She pulled out a baggie with two small brownies in it. 

“I made them last night and thought you might wanna try.” She giggled quietly, walking back over to the cake she was working on, “I wouldn’t recommend taking the whole thing though, they’re strong.” 

“Shiiit, thanks Danny.” You smiled, pushing the swinging door to the back kitchen open. “Morning Mrs. Carrie.” 

One of your older coworkers turned away from the donuts she was icing, “Morning.” 

In your department it was pretty easy to get closer to your co-workers. You were all forced to work so closely together, especially in the deli, two to four people stuck behind a counter for eight hours at the same time.

There was a bond amongst the decently sized group you had, a bond that would sometimes sour with short lived drama that you had no interest being dragged into. 

You fished the hairnet out of your pocket, and grabbed an apron from the basket by the door. 

“Good morning.” Your co-worker Alice smiled as you walked closer to her, tying the apron around your waist. 

“Morning.” 

You checked the tablet, making sure that there weren’t any orders for the personal shoppers to pick up. 

The next few hours went by smoothly enough, thankfully it wasn’t too busy in the store. Making it a lot easier for you to cook everything you needed, make sure that the condiments beside the hot bar were filled, reducing stress for your coworker and you. 

“I’m going on my lunch.” You told Alice, taking your gloves off and throwing them away. 

“Alright, have fun.” She joked. 

You walked out from behind the counter, pulling your jacket closer around you before pulling your phone out and looking at the time. God you still had four more hours… 

~~~

Nam-gyu’s first day had gone somewhat smoothly, learning how to do everything was easy enough when he had someone helping him.

All he had to do was shop for other people’s groceries all day, what could be so hard about that?

It was a good way to keep his mind off things, an earbud hidden away by his hair to drown out any thoughts that could bother him as he worked. 

Finally break time was rolling around, and he trailed off from his department towards the deli. He wasn’t sure if he would even be able to eat, but he could at least try something.

Four more hours… Nam-gyu looked back up from his phone. Gasping softly when he runs into another person. They stumble back a little, and his phone drops on the ground. 

The person looks at him, hurried apologies flooding from both of their mouths as she tucks her phone back into her vest pocket. 

“I’m so sorry.” “I wasn’t paying attention.” “That was my fault.” 

Nam-gyu looked at her widened eyes, the apologetic expression forming into a small smile as they talked over each other. He couldn’t help but smile a little too, laughing quietly. 

[undertheorangetree]

Snowed In

Summary- A snow storm leads to an opportunity.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Modern Aemond. Cat Vhagar is modern AU canon. Friends to lovers vibe. Thigh riding. Blowjob. Cunnilingus. P in V sex. Safe sex practices for once. Probably ooc Aemond cuz he's experiencing joy.

Author's Note- Yes all of my fics take place in the winter what about it?? That's my business that I am now involving you in link to full fic below :)

dividers by me

"They've just closed campus."

Her head pops up from behind her laptop, staring at Aemond in wide eyed disbelief. Already, there is a sympathetic wince on his face, the kind that is only ever present when he knows she is about to get upset, but even then she refuses to believe him.

"Closed? What do you mean closed?"

"It says they had to on account of the weather."

"No, they haven't. Let me see."

He spins his laptop screen to face her, forcing her to push her own down in order to see properly. His email has been left open on the page and her eyes rove over the message she had so desperately hoped he had made up. There before her in big bold letters are the words URGENT- CAMPUS CLOSED followed by a brief explanation blaming a snow storm and apologizing for any inconveniences the decision may have caused.

She lets out a groan, leaning back in the library's old chair, a pleading look on her face as if Aemond is the one responsible for making such decisions. He may as well be, with his family being such heavy contributors to Oldtown University's alumni fund, his last name plastered across the front of one of the many building on campus. She has half the mind to ask him to go speak to whichever family member is on the chair committee to convince them to reverse the decision and allow them to go back to finishing their final papers, though somehow she doubts that would be likely.

"The storm wasn't supposed to start until tomorrow. It can't already be that bad, can it?"

He reaches over toward the blinds they have long since closed, both of them having agreed that the glare from the sun was too distracting hours ago, only to be met with the sight of a now white campus, the snow blanketing near everything in sight. It's evident now why they would have shut down campus - it must have been snowing for hours- but she still feels something close to dread work its way up her spine.

She sucks in a heavy breath, turning to face Aemond once more. "Do you think they would have shut down the buses too?"

She knows it's a lost cause even as she asks it. The university is located away from the port, standing alone at the top of one of the mountains. It's a steep drive even in idle conditions and she knows that with the snow on the roads, the chances of her being able to commute back to her apartment are slim to none.

Just as she suspects, he simply looks at her, face contorted in a way that clearly implies that she already knows the answer. She bites out a curse, half slamming her laptop down before dropping her face into her hands.

The last thing she wants to do is spend the night on campus. She doubts that they were the only two caught unaware and trying to find a place to camp out for the night is going to be hell. Not for him, of course. Aemond's family connections came with seemingly endless perks and he had been set up with a beautiful flat on campus, less than a five minute walk from the library. He has lived there ever since she has known him and she had been there more times than she could count. Since first befriending him during orientation week in their first year, she had spent countless nights eating take out and studying for finals there. With their joint history major, they had taken nearly every class together, making last night studying near second nature at this point, so close to finishing their degrees.

There's a faint burn of envy in her gut at the thought of his flat- warm, isolated, cozy- but it's quickly snuffed out by her nervousness, fretting over where exactly she is meant to camp out tonight. She doubts she will actually sleep, not while she’s alone on campus, but she still wants to be at least somewhat comfortable. A padded chair would be ideal, though she knows they will be difficult to come by if she doesn’t act quickly.

Shoving her laptop back into her bag, she begins collecting the handful of papers she had sprawled out across the tabletop. "I guess I should go and try to find somewhere to sleep. It's going to be a blood bath trying to find something with decent cushioning."

He scoffs. "You're not going to be fighting any blood baths. Just spend the night at mine."

Read the rest here

[g1rld1ary]

you never disappointed me - part three

part one part two part three part four

➻ synopsis: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader ; after beckendorf does some research with silena, luke finally knows how to ask you out (10 things I about you AU)

➻ word count: 2642

➻ warnings: ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader, sexual innuendos, alcohol, smoking

➻ so i immediately got hit with a ton of uni work lols (so mean for first week??) so this took a little longer than expected sorries!!

TAGLIST: @myxticmoon @wicca-void @leeknows-wife @thekittyxo-blog @number-onekidqueen @instabull @slaybestieslay946 @sflame15-blog @yourfavmiki @ivory-sage

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

While you were being tormented by the two boys Camp Half-Blood (or maybe your mom?) kept sending your way, Charles was following Silena around like a lost puppy, noting down whatever she could find about you in your limited personal space in the Aphrodite cabin. After several minutes of nothing promising, he was starting to feel hopeless.

“She’s not a…” Beckendorf trailed off, looking for more delicate phrasing.

“Girl in Red fan? No. I found a picture of Heath Ledger under her bunk once so I’m pretty sure she’s not harbouring any queer feelings.”

“So that’s the kind of guy she likes? Pretty guys?”

“I don’t know,” Silena said impetuously, “All I’ve ever heard her say is that she’d die before dating a guy that smokes.” Beckendorf cringed. That was an issue. Silena continued mindlessly, digging through your drawers and belongings. She pulled out your reading list, planner and a sticky note of things you were going to do when you left after summer. Finally, Silena let out a devious giggle as she dug through your top drawer. She didn’t let Beckendorf wonder for long, as she pulled out a pretty pair of lacy black underwear.

It wasn’t the most scandalous piece of lingerie sitting in that cabin — not by far, but Beckendorf still blushed like the teenage boy he was, almost too afraid to look at the scrap of fabric.

“And, uh, what does that tell us?” He asked, eyes anywhere but the cloth.

“She wants to have sex someday, that’s what,” She said it as if it were obvious, and Beckendorf wished a hole would open up and swallow him down. He really didn’t want to be talking about your sexual desire right now.

“She might just like the colour?” He mumbled, hand running over his hair in an effort to ground him.

“You don’t buy black lingerie unless you want someone to see it.” Beckendorf felt kind of guilty, he figured he probably wasn’t who you had in mind when buying black lingerie, and it was starting to feel like a serious invasion of privacy. That was only heightened when Silena pointedly avoided telling him which area was hers, saying it was ‘private’. He rationalised his actions by praying to the Gods the plan would work and everyone would get a happy ever after.

Still, Percy and Beckendorf took this research to Luke in his semi-secret spot behind the training arena, where he could drink and smoke without being worried about being caught by the younger kids or Chiron. He didn’t look exactly happy to see them, but Beckendorf thought he might just be warming up to them.

“So, what’ve you got for me?” He asked, taking a swig of his beer.

“Insights into a very complicated girl,” Percy said, dislike of you obvious.

“Just one question,” Beckendorf asked “Should you be drinking if you don’t have a liver?” One of his new brothers had told him the rumour that Luke had sold his liver on the black market during his quest for a pack of cigarettes and a ticket back to camp.

“She hates smokers!” Percy interrupted, hopefully before Luke could process what Beckendorf had said, and very successfully redirected his focus as Beckendorf grabbed the lit cigarette out of his hand, snuffing it out on the dirt.

“So I’m a… non-smoker now?” Luke spat the words, sounding almost disgusted with himself.

“Just for now,” Beckendorf assured him. “And one more problem — Silena said that she likes ‘pretty guys’.” A tense silence fell upon them and Charles wished that sometimes he would think before he spoke. Luke’s gaze on him was heavy and intimidating, and if Percy wasn’t there with him Beckendorf probably would have cowered and escaped.

“Are you telling me I’m not a pretty guy?” Luke asked, and if he had to say, Beckendorf thought his attitude right now definitely wasn’t helping his case. He and Percy shared a quick look before reassuring Luke that he absolutely was a pretty guy, they just had limited experience in deciding those labels. Satisfied, Luke glanced at the list Beckendorf handed him of all of your interests and engagements. He frowned, and both the younger boys exchanged uneasy eye contact.

“So what, I’m supposed to buy her noodles and books and sit around listening to some shitty girl power band?” He asked, dread and boredom evident in his eyes.

“Have you ever been to Club Skunk? Her favourite band is playing there tomorrow night,” Beckendorf provided, disheartened by the quick shake of Luke’s head.

“I cannot be seen at Club Skunk.”

“But she’s gonna be there! She’s got tickets!” He protested, and Percy put a subtle hand on his arm.

“Dude, everyone you know is here. No one’s gonna see you at Club Skunk and think you’re less of a man or whatever. I’ll tell everyone you’re off in the woods smoking weed or something.” Luke looked at them for a long moment, seemingly considering the offer. Finally he agreed, and Beckendorf thought it may have just been to get them to go away, but he was happy enough.

Luke, having gotten over the humiliation it would be to go to Club Skunk, was more than interested at the new piece of information he’d just learned. He thought he was the only one who snuck out of camp, and he wondered how often you did it. Reasonably frequently, he guessed, since you were going to all the trouble to see a band that probably played around the state constantly. You just kept on surprising him, and though it was all a bit of an effort on his part, he had started to enjoy getting to know the parts of you that you kept hidden behind the icy exterior.

You, on the other hand, were getting really weirded out. You might’ve just been paranoid, but you were sure that the new Hephaestus kid who was friends with Percy kept staring at you. Even Percy glanced at you more than once during dinner, something you didn’t think had ever happened before — and you were not looking for attention from the camp’s golden boy, no matter how many times he’d probably saved your life by extension of his quests. Those two, coupled with Luke, whose attentions had inexplicably been focused on you for the last week, made you feel a bit like an animal on display; violently uncomfortable. As you left the meal you shot Beckendorf a nasty glare, somewhat satisfied when he jumped and averted his eyes. You shook your head in a physical attempt to clear the burdens of your thoughts. Soon you wouldn’t have to worry about any of the campers or the stupidity that flowed around the grounds.

About twenty minutes after the campfire started and the rest of the camp were safely together, you began the trek up to the Hamptons — the closest city with a venue. You waited anxiously for the bus to pick you up outside the camp lines, looking over your shoulder to ensure no one had caught you. If your adventures got around camp then Silena would absolutely tell your father as payback for being the reason she can’t date, and that was a whole new set of issues you really didn’t care to deal with. Luke, standing in the shadows watching, felt almost bad for spying on you. Almost.

You could feel your shoulders relax as you got further and further away from camp, the judgement and expectations of people you didn’t even like far behind you for the night. You’d been looking forward to this show since you got tickets with your friends during the school term, and you were determined to make it worth the pain of summer. And it really, really was. Your whole friend group had made it, making it a long awaited reunion, and the band was one you’d been following for years. You danced with all your energy, gleefully shouting lyrics and laughing loudly when you got them terribly wrong.

Luke watched this from his seat at the bar, entranced in your private bubble amongst the chaos. You were smiling — a rare sight at all at camp — but this was one he didn’t think he’d ever seen in all his years of knowing you. It wasn’t filled with pride like the ones you tried to conceal when you got a new record on the climbing wall or you finally beat Clarisse in a training match, nor was it the satisfied smirk you had when you put an egotistical camper in their place or beat up jerks like Ethan. Your smile was alight with joy; relaxed and wholehearted happiness that spread through the room and seemed infectious to anyone who passed you.

It was at that moment that Luke truly understood how you were a daughter of Aphrodite. The way the lights reflected off your hair and your eyes, the easy way you moved your body to the music, everything about you suddenly seemed perfect, and he wondered how he’d never noticed it before. Your appearance hadn’t changed drastically; your hair was loose instead of the practical up-do needed for camp, you wore a tight fitted crop top instead of the camp shirt and you might’ve had some glitter smeared around your eyes. All inconspicuous, ordinary things, yet you seemed like a brand new person. Luke decided he liked this version of you, and if this whole plan failed, at least he’d gotten a glimpse into your real world and behind the facade you hid with at camp.

He was ripped from his thoughts when he saw you make a drinking gesture to your friend, heading towards him unwittingly. He turned in his seat hurriedly, trying to act cool and unaware. You spotted him almost immediately, persona switching up as disgust crept back under your skin.

“If you’re going to ask me out again, could you just get it over with now so I can get back to enjoying my night?” You sighed, grabbing the water bottles from the bartender.

“Would you mind? You’re kind of ruining this for me.” Luke gestured around, hoping his acting chops were as good as he needed. You ignored it either way.

“You’re not surrounded by your usual cloud of smoke,” You noted, curiosity getting the better of you.

“I quit. Apparently they’re bad for you.” You raised an eyebrow, almost too surprised to come up with a quip.

“You did?” You hated how genuine it sounded and turned to go, sensing him get up to follow you.

“You know, I was watching you out there before,” He yelled over the music, “I’ve never seen you look so sexy.” In possibly the worst timing in history, the song ended and the entire club was treated to Luke’s compliment. You both flushed red, and you were unable to contain a small giggle — wildly uncharacteristic for you. Luke, to his credit, only had a mildly sheepish grin on his face, and continued to follow you across the dance floor. “Come to the Apollo party with me.” You couldn’t believe him! Here you were, miles from camp and he was still asking you out. Though, you couldn’t deny that he wasn’t quite as infuriating as you originally thought.

“You never give up, do you?” You gave a good natured sigh, ducking under someone’s arm to get to your friends.

“Was that a yes?”

“No.”

“Was it a no?”

“No!” You let out another laugh which floated over the crowd and straight to Luke. He couldn’t contain his own grin.

“I’ll pick you up at 9:30!” He yelled back. You gave no indication of having heard him apart from a momentary glance, and he couldn’t tell if the smile was directed at him or just a byproduct of your situation. He took it either way.

Having gone to the effort of sneaking away from camp, Luke decided to stay for the remainder of the concert and grudgingly decided the band wasn’t that bad. Not his style, sure, but he could kind of see why you liked them. Besides, these drinks were easier to get than the contraband ones he had to smuggle into camp.

Tired from a night on your feet dancing and feeling your pleasant buzz slipping away, you were less than charmed seeing Luke waiting for your bus. It made sense, obviously you were going the same place, but you didn’t want him to ruin your great night by pestering you about a date.

“What are you doing here?” You asked bluntly, eagerly sitting on the misshapen little bench.

“Getting home?” He trailed off, unsure of what you were looking for. “Besides, we’re a long way from camp and it’s late. Didn’t feel right leaving you here alone.” You hated that you thought it was sweet.

“Do you not think I can take care of myself?” You picked a fight instead, unwilling to be genuine with him. Luke wasn’t stupid enough to fall for it.

“I have complete faith in you,” He laughed, “I’m making sure you don’t kill whoever bothers you.” You let out a snort of a laugh accidentally. You tried to recover,

“It’ll be you if you’re not careful.” Somehow Luke didn’t believe you.

Surprisingly, the trip was almost pleasant. Luke had already gotten what he wanted from the night and the next phase of his plan was shaping up, so he knew bringing up your impending date would only sour your mood. Instead, when he plonked himself down in the seat next to you on the bus, you talked about mundane, silly things. He asked about the friends you were with and let you talk about your life in New York, waving you off when you started to feel guilty since he was at camp all year.

“There’s this really cool record store, we go there all the time. They have this huge bulletin board on one wall where these tiny little bands put up posters for random gigs with, like, fifty people there — it’s so sick, like the 90s I guess. Maybe —” You cut yourself off but Luke knew where you were going. Maybe I could show you. You would deny it if he brought it up, but he couldn’t contain his smile either way.

You were surprised that you had so much to talk about, briefly wondering why you’d never been friends with him before, but the conversation continued all the way to the camp border, where you both knew the risk of sneaking back in meant your night together was over. Once you got into camp there’d be people all around; campers should be in bed but counsellors often patrolled for a while, and many of the non-demigod folks around camp could be up and about well into the early hours of the morning.

“So, um, I’ll see you around?” His sudden shyness was unexpectedly charming, and you found yourself giving Luke a smile — a real one that made his heart flutter embarrassingly.

“Bye, Luke.” You held eye contact for a fraction longer than necessary before disappearing into the shadows. Luke watched you go, not quite starstruck but close to it. A rustle of the trees behind him spurred him into action, but the image of you on the dance floor played on repeat behind his eyes as he lay in his bunk.

[stepinthyme]

The Red Means I Love You

Alice Wu Gulliver x Necromancer!Reader

Your girlfriend told you she'd be gone to finish some buisness, and you feel her death happen. You refuse to let her go.

Word Count: 1k

Content: second person, no use of Y/N, ressurection, kissing, fluff, blood and gore, Alice is naked but that is not the focus here. Reader is refered to as "girlfriend" at one point, but otherwise this could be read as gender neutral

A/N: If no one will feed me, I will feed MYSELF. I may cross post this to ao3 in the morning, but I needed to get this out of my head while it was all still fresh. This is very heavily inspired by Marcille's ressurection of Falin from Dungeon Meshi, but fuck it, if Billy's allowed to ressurect Tommy by putting his soul into another kid's dead body, then theres gotta be at least one other person able to do necromancy, and why not do lesbianism. Alice is probably a little ooc but I did this in like an hour, cut me some slack.

Today, running the butcher’s was very slow, predictable for the sleepy little metropolitan area of Eastview and Westview. It was run of the mill and average, what everyone in the town basically forced it to be ever since the scarlet witch scared half the people within a three mile radius.

You were just finishing the last of closing procedures and headed into your apartment above the shop, making a quick dinner and settling in for a simple night watching tv when you could feel it. The moment Alice's life was snuffed out. No, more like drained out of her, in a drawn out action. She had told you she was just going to finish some family related business, that she'd be back before the night was over. She'd be back before you knew it. Kissed you on the cheek and everything like she did when she'd head off to work.

Before you had even really processed anything else, you were already setting up the ritual, drawing out a sigil with chalk, placing candles in the appropriate places, scouring your cabinets for all the assorted offerings needed.

You and Alice had met because you were outcast witches. She had distanced herself from the craft after the death of her mother. And you were known as the disgrace of all green witchcraft. You were an odd duo, but you were happy so long as you were together. She had asked you a few times how you had earned your title, and you always laughed it off.

She was going to finally learn why you were called that very quickly.

You were grateful for your day job as a butcher, as you used magic to carry large cuts of cow and lamb, bones and all from the commerical freezer to the living room. plopping them haphazardly onto the sigil. It wasn't her body, but it would do in a pinch. You would deal with any consequences later. You lit the candles and got onto your knees, placing your hands on the sigil as you began the incantation you had done at least a dozen times. Your voice almost seemed to echo through the room as forbidden magics are called upon.

In a basement a couple miles away, death reaches out for a soul, only to see her violently yanked away from her grasp, disappearing from sight.

You continue to shout as the meat and bone fuse together, almost melting as it reformed itself into a human shape, features slowly refining itself to resemble the soul now bound to it. The last touches are added as your girlfriend, albeit covered in blood and naked, now lies in the middle of the circle. You nearly collapse, but you stare anxiously, hoping, praying, that it worked.

Alice's eyes snap open as she bolts upright, gasping for air. You release a breath you didn't realize you were holding as the tears finally roll down your face and pull her into a tight hug.

“Alice! Alice, I thought I lost you, I..”

You continue to squeeze her, kissing various spots on her face, not caring about the copper taste of the blood. Alice seemed to be finally coming out of shellshock as her hands found their way to tangle in your hair. Her eyes met yours.

“Is… is this real? Am I really here?”

“Yes Alice, you’re really here, I promise. You're here. I'm here.”

Without much warning, you were pulled in for a deep kiss. If you didn't know any better, you'd have thought she hadn't seen you in months with how desperate it was. Your tongues danced with no clear rhythm as you tried to get enough of each other, only stopping when you both needed air. Alice let out a huffy laugh of disbelief.

“How did you… how did you even do this? I was dead. I saw death.”

You glance away, picking at some of the melted wax on one of the candles, suddenly conscious of what you had done, how much of an overreach it might have been.

“It's. A long story, trust me. I understand if you don't want to be around me anymore after this, I just-” Alice gently takes your hands in hers, rubbing circles with her thumbs.

“Hey, hey. It's okay. Look at me?” You meet her gaze once more, her warm eyes looking softly at you.

“It's okay. What happened was weird, yes. But I think quite literally breaking the laws of life and death is maybe the most romantic thing a girlfriend has done for me. Just don't make a habit of it, okay?” You can't help but laugh at that.

“Only if you don't make a habit of it. What even happened?” Alice paused at that.

“It’s also a long story. I’ll tell you after I get cleaned up. You should probably too, considering” she gestures to your now bloodsoaked clothes, and you nod.

“I’ll take care of the cleaning in here while you shower, and I'll meet you in the bedroom later after I get washed up. If you're still awake by then, we can exchange stories. Otherwise that can wait till morning. Alright?” She nods, placing one last kiss to your forehead before attempting to get up and then immediately falling over. You stand up, offering a hand to her.

“Need help?” She takes it, and you help pull her up, resulting in a much more successful attempt to stand than the last one.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one protecting you.” You can't help but giggle at the remark.

“Everyone needs help once and a while. The usual doting can wait for later.”

You walk with her to the bathroom to make sure she doesn't fall again before even making it to the tub, before heading back to dig through the supply closet. You pull out the cleaning supplies and head back to the living room area, and the now giant stain of blood and chalk on your floor. Necromancy is a bitch, but it's all worth it now that you have Alice back with you. Whatever happens next, the two of you can sort it out together.

[hvman-scvm]

Hear me out,,, snuffed ! 141 x snuff filmmaker ! Reader.

Massive CW 4 general things you'd expect of a snuff film. Dark content ahead. (No r//pe or s/a) Maybe OOC ?

Price is the first one you planned 2 get rid of; he'd bring you less money anyways considering he's older than most of yr other victims. But man, was he fun. He put up one hell of a fight, cursing and fighting against the restraints.

It made you laugh.

You didn't bother too much with him, knowing tht the film you'll make out of him won't b as high demand as yr other ones. But you still made sure 2 have yr fun. You knew he was a captain, and the superiority you felt after you finally caught him and bound him 2 the metal chair was unmatched.

The tape was a mere 22 minutes 37 seconds of content; after a while he just.. stopped fighting back. He was clearly exhausted, and he knew it wld result in nothing but more of yr mean laughter. It was the shortest tape you've evr made. No fun in it if yr victim isn't giving you reactions.

So you quickly put an end to his life and painted the walls with his brain matter.

Then there was Soap, he was even more fun than his beloved captain. W his constant cursing at you laced in a thick Scottish accent, and his pretty blue eyes glaring daggers at the camera tht you pointed 2wards him B4 setting it on its stand, grabbing his face and making sure he looks directly 2wards it.

But soon his demeanor began 2 break. It may have taken a few hours of torture, but it was so worth it.

He begun crying freely at the pain, he's faced a lot of it in his career; bullet wounds, stab wounds, blunt force- if you can name it, he's experienced it at least once. But none of it compares 2 this, 2 the pain you've been inflicting on him the past few hours.

A day of on-off torture was all it took 4 you 2 get bored. He was getting weak n tired, slipping in an out of consciousness. He simply wasn't fun anymore.

So his life was ended w a slash 2 the throat. His vacant eyes staring blankly at the still running camera.

And Ghost, oh boy. He barely reacted, barely flinching when you cut his mask w yr knife n ripped it off his face. He was quite the looker, you can't lie. He barely reacted 2 yr torture; refusing 2 give you the satisfaction. But you were determined, n you weren't gna stop until you hear a sob.

All tht came frm him were grunts and hisses, no matter what kind of torture you inflicted on his big, scarred body. He just wanted this 2 b over w, hoping you'd get bored n end his life so tht he doesn't have 2 endure any of his pain anymore. Both the pain you were causing and the pain tht came w being Simon Riley.

But after 7 hours, after you took a break n he barely regained consciousness, you finally got what you want. You had slammed down the hammer in2 his thigh, determined 2 break the one bones thts hardest 2 break. Thts when he finally yelped in pain. More noises kept spilling out of his throat as you slammed the hammer over n over again against his thigh in hopes of breaking his femur.

You had kept him 4 a week, made 3 tapes of him, and currently filming his 4th- and last- one. You had used the same gammer you attempted 2 break his femur w, n bashed his head in until it was mush.

Then there was yr little snuff prince, as you had lovingly nicknamed him, Gaz. He refused 2 look at you, nor the camera. Just kept his head down the whole time. His eyes were so pretty as you lifted his head 2 look at you. What you weren't expecting, however, was 4 him 2 spit right on yr face.

You loved it. Loved his reactions. Loved how pretty he was.

You knew he was going 2 help you make a high demand film. How cld any1 resist seeing a man as pretty as him get tortured within an inch of his life ?

You made multiple films of him, he was yr only victim tht lasted this long. But good things must come 2 an end.

His fate was hanging. He was too weak 2 fight you as you put the noose arnd his neck. You adored the coughing n gasping tht left him as he was lifted in the air, his legs kicking blindly B4 tensing and eventually going limp. You watched w glee as the life slowly left his eyes, n made sure the camera was close enough 2 pick up on tht.

[theealbatross]

love is the most twisted curse of all (shadow trio headcannon)

Plot | How the Shadow Trio expresses their love and the price they willingly pay for it.

Tags: |dark-ish, unhealthy friendships/relationships, platonic (or not depends on your interpretation), codependency, manipulation, aged up, implied crimes, implied murder, slytherins can't love normally, implied seb x mc if u squint, traumatized!slytherins can't accept healthy love, seb and mc are dark wizards, auror!sebastian, my opinion only, might be ooc

[A/N: Photos (except two) are not mine! This is something short I wrote because i can't get it out of my head lol]

Ominis Gaunt: The Heir

. Ominis loves by doing what is necessary.

. A perfect Slytherin through and through, Ominis (whether he is aware or not) lives the closest truth to the Slytherin motto. Anything that is 'his' is protected at any and all cost.

. There is no heaven high enough he won't reach or a hell low enough that he won't crawl in if it meant saving the people dearest to him.

. Like the perfect slytherin heir Ominis is akin to a snake, his morality slithering and bending to fit his narrative. His bones creak, skin stretching as he wraps himself around his loved ones until they are untouchable.

. He is aware of his flaws but he is not so honorable to fix it. He knows the real world -- the darker side of the wizarding world's high society, one that his companions aren't too familiar with -- and he will move hell and high water to protect them from it in the shadows.

. Dark Spells being used a bit too closely in where Sebastian is stationed? It must be those damned dark wizards, Minister. Isn't Auror Sallow so gallant in facing those pests?

. Poacher corpses leading a trail to you? Surely, such stains of the wizarding world wouldn't be missed. The Hero of Hogwarts did us all a favor, it would be a shame to condemn such heroics.

. Suspicious rumors following his friends? Not while he was at the top of high society, manipulating reputations and snuffing out nonbelievers. Any tongue that rises against them will be cut.

. He is a Gaunt, and as much as he loathes the dark history behind his name -- he knows how to wield its power. He is the only one who can properly wield it and it is a sword he is willing to use -- if necessary.

Sebastian Sallow: The Prodigy

. Sebastian loves by monopolizing.

. As a boy who lost too much at such a young age, his entire world surrounds the few people he considers his own. And if you are one of his people know his whole world will surround you.

. He has to have access and knowledge of his loved ones at all times. In-depth, illegal, background checks on all people his pretty witch associates herself with? Fair game, it's for your safety, darling. Charmed pieces of jewelry that lets him know of your location at all times? Christmas and birthday gifts from him to you, wear it at all times or he'll charm it so it never gets removed. A ring that will transport Ominis to his side at the first sign of danger? Ominis you are far too important a person to put your life on mere Aurors hands, I'll handle it.

. Normal people would be put off but after all the things the three of you have been through, putting your lives and safety in Sebastian's hands is the best course of action. It is for your own good, after all.

. Sebastian is fully aware he has unfortunately been cursed with having brilliant friends with bounties in their heads in the underworld. Therefore, the best course of action would be the one to rule it.

. Living a double life as the honorable Head Auror and a dark wizard was not for the weak but Sebastian has always been used to compartmentalizing different faces for different facets of his life. A brilliant student, a delinquent, a doting brother, a traitor, a partner in crime, a merciless murderer. He'll wear any and all masks and become the monster he is required to be if it meant he got to keep you.

. Sebastian doesn't have a lot of people he loves so he will not ask for forgiveness in how he protects those that is willing to be loved by him. They're his -- his to love, his to protect, his to consume.

. And he'll let all the curses and corpses pile up into a mountain of sins before he'll lose anyone ever again.

MC: The Hero

. She loves through devotion.

. Once you consider them as a friend they can do no wrong in your eyes and if they do commit mistakes you will dig the deepest pit to bury it in with your own bare hands.

. Being told you were special, you were different, you were powerful at a very early age fractured your reality. The world is your oyster, it will be whatever you deem it to become.

. For what is power if you can't even help those you love the most?

. Do you want me to take care of 'it', Omi? You know I hate it when you strain yourself with politics. Someone tried to take Sebastian to court for excessive violence? Who is it? Are you going to handle it or should I? Why can't they just let him be?

. You will follow them blindly at whatever corner of the earth they are calling from. Anything that has to do with them is a priority of the highest order as far as you are concerned-- so much so that people have to go to Ominis and Sebastian first to convince them to convince you to help.

.There is no such thing as a good or bad anymore -- you will stand on whatever side they are on, and the rest of the world can decide if they want to stand with you or against you.

. There will be no such thing as a consequence if you had anything to say about it. And you had the final say about everything.

. All will always be well for you and everyone you love. You will make sure of it.

.You are special, after all.

[betterinvienna]

Hello, I don't know if you are taking requests but I was wondering if you could make a female reader x Aki Hayakawa where they are both a couple (they have been dating for a while) and she moves in with him so she helps him deal with his roommates (including Nayuta because she is very cute) I don't know if I explained myself well, do what you want hahaha I only ask that it be fun and fluffy

pink cheeks and hot coffee | aki hayakawa x reader

synopsis: 8 months ago, in the cold Tokyo snow, you met him. Time-skip, and you're moving in with him, and meeting the people closest to him. Aki Hayakawa truly is a rom-com dream.

[ 2.8k words — fluff — no warnings ]

author's note:

uuuugh this took me a month to complete im so sorry to who requested this i've been infinitely busy :( changed some stuff up & left some key aspects of the request out, so let me know if you want me to continue this story rather than stop here. + not sure if this is ooc or not. fujimoto took my babies away from me so i havent seen their personality in forever dont beat me up pls

8 months ago, you met Aki Hayakawa in the café a block from your apartment. Having just moved to Tokyo, you needed something familiar – thankfully, cafés are essentially the same everywhere. He ordered his coffee black – and you only remembered because that’s weird, ew – and shot you two fleeting glances before awkwardly returning to staring out the window. 

Ten minutes later, you saw him leave a nice sum of yen on the table, exiting the café with a ding as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket. Naturally, cigarettes repel you – secondhand smoke, ew again – but you shrugged and slid out of your booth, leaving the money necessary to cover your meal and then some, your shoes crunching the snow as you left the warm café. To be fair, you just wanted to test your luck – he’s cute and you like to talk. The worst he could do is start running in the opposite direction.

“Hi.” You breathed, cold fog punctuating your words.

He gave you a quizzical look, almost annoyed, even, and you chewed down on your bottom lip, regretting your bold choice already. He returned his gaze to his cigarette, flicking on the lighter and directing it to the end of the stick.

“Hello. Can I help you?” 

“Right. Sorry. I noticed you –” You drew a blank. What’d you notice? Quick! Lie – he’s too cute. “Had the new Onitsukas. I like the, um, colorway. Black and grey. Suits your vibe.” You gesture to his black and grey Onitsuka Tigers, laced with matching black threads. 

“Oh.” Confusion settled deeper into the man’s face, but a fresh pink tint decorated his cheeks. “Right.” He looked down, kicking some snow around and checking out his Tigers as if he forgot they were there. “Thank you.”

“I’m a big shoe fan myself, you know.” What a lie. You gave him a meek smile and kicked your Isabel Marants into the air for him to see. “The viral ones. Sold out everywhere. Couldn’t get them anywhere – well, except for one place. I stood in the rain for these.” Another lie. You ordered these online on a whim, because your best friend, Lou, said they’d look good on you and you were desperate for some new fashion options.

“Uh… okay,” His ears were red by now. Are you annoying him? Why did you think he cared about shoes? Get this guy’s number and get out of here. “That’s cool.”

You scratch your neck, running out of things to say. Ugh. Whatever. “I’m kind of new here. I was hoping I could get a friend or two, so, um…” you press your lips together, digging your phone out of your jacket’s pocket. His lips curled faintly upward when he saw your Sonny Angel glued to the back of your stickered phone case, but you handed him the overly decorated phone and pulled up the keypad screen anyway, hoping he got the gist.

Thankfully, he did. Aki snuffed the cigarette out under his shoe and sniffed through his frost-nipped, red nose. “Uh, I’m Aki. Aki Hayakawa.” He finally gave you a lopsided, awkward grin as he turned your phone back to you – with his number typed in it. Score! Cute guy’s number in your phone on just week 2 in Tokyo. Seems the ¥1.7k spent on YesStyle for this new-and-hip lip tint didn’t go to waste.

You nodded, smiling as you stared at the white numbers. By now, passersby were starting to notice your awkward exchange, but when have you ever been able to keep your mouth shut? “Thank you – I’ll text you. Also, why do you order your coffee black?” 

—

aki my baby: I’m going to stop by the corner store before I come over to help you pack. Do you want anything?

You roll over on your bed and pick up your phone, checking out the notification. Behind it, a picture of you and your boyfriend, Aki, on a Ferris wheel. Aki is pictured with a downwards smile and a comically large corndog in hand, while you grin ear to ear, holding up a peace sign. It’s a beautiful picture, with all the night city lights in the back and your hair blowing just right in the high wind. You stare at your room, boxes vacant of any item when today is your move-in day. You should probably stop reminiscing and get on that.

You: no ty

aki my baby: ??? Are you sure?

aki my baby: [1 Attachment]

A picture of your favorite gummy bears. Okay, it looks like you forgot that. Aki: 1. You: 0.

You: omg

You: wait

You: yes those ones

You: thank u. i love u… ( ͒  ́ඉ .̫ ඉ ̀  ͒)...

aki my baby: I love you too. See you in a bit.

It’s been maybe two and a half years into your relationship with Aki Hayakawa, and you already have a vision board in your closet for the wedding. Well, no, not really, but now that the idea has come up… you’re seriously considering it. 

Aki is like a dream-come-true, rom-com movie kind of boyfriend – that boy next door, best friend’s older brother vibe. He’s almost fake. Your life right now is what 13-year-old you watched through a screen, and you love that – and him. He knows your favorite flowers, favorite TV show, favorite movie, favorite book, all 20 of your favorite songs, which lyrics you like most out of each of them, and how many times you cried over losing your favorite hoodie – which he promptly found 2 hours later because he was there, front and center, to count all of the times you cried – making him the perfect boyfriend. To top off this quintessential boyfriend act, he – reluctantly – offered you a spot at his place, since you got tired of everything breaking down at yours. However, there is one thing missing.

Aki had previously refused to let you meet his three friends – roommates? Siblings? Children? Whatever. All that you know of them is that they cause a ton of trouble for him. 

You just brushed it off. I mean, who are you to request for even more of his personal life than however much you know right now? But… you’ve always been just a little curious. Anyone would want to show off their girlfriend, right? 

They sound interesting enough from the tales Aki tells you. He only spoke of them in passing: a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the bathtub, sleeping on the toilet, roleplaying as a “queen” and her lowly subordinates, and an overwhelming number of dogs. You have to meet them. It’s a risible concept really – how’d he end up with them if he’s so�� reserved? Then again, how’d he end up with you?

Di-i-uhh—thunk!

Oh. Right. The doorbell is broken too.

“I’m coming!” Two and a half years ago, the doorbell made the same, ugly “thunk” sound when Aki came to pick you up for the date – or hangout, whatever you wanna call it – that made you official, so you supposed it was alright to leave it broken. For memories. 

It was on the rooftop of your apartment building, so you didn’t think anything special of it – until he started dropping indirect, heavy hints like “You’re so pretty… uh, you always have been,” followed up by “You’d be even prettier as my girlfriend.” Well, the latter was mumbled under his breath, and you had to fill in the blanks, so you’re not 100% sure if you’re quoting it verbatim. Regardless, it was cute, he was – is – cute, and his personality is cute – which checks all of your boxes. So, you said yes. And in the end, the doorbell never got fixed. He asked you about it a couple of months ago, and instead of telling him the whole story, you just told him it was important that it was kept that way. He didn’t question you any further, because you started shoving this new recipe you found on Instagram into his mouth.

“Hi, baby,” This long, yet your stomach still flips at his every word.

“Hi,” By now, you’re practically cheesing. He steps aside and invites himself into the apartment he practically shares – well, now shared – with you.

“You haven’t packed?” Oh. Too busy eating chips and watching random re-runs of your favorite TV shows, but you won’t tell him that.

“What?” You look around, feigning innocence, and throw your hands up with a smile. “Sooooorry. I’ll get on it now. With you here, it’ll be super fast.” At this, Aki just smiled and shook his head, putting his house slippers on (I told you, he practically shared this apartment with you) and shuffled into your kitchen, leaning on the island.

“I talked to my, uh, roommates today.” He said, scratching the side of his neck.

Your eyes widen. “You’re just now telling them I’m moving in?” 

Aki slid his tongue over his teeth and loosened his grip on the counter behind him, watching you. “Yeah. You know Denji – well, no, you don’t, not yet – but he’s been dying to meet you for a while now, and if I told him too early, he’d never shut up about you moving in until you did.” 

You smiled at him, shoving some stuff into the boxes in your living room. “Denji sounds like more fun than you are,” you joked. “Are you gonna come and help me pack, or are you here to watch me do it?”

He sighed, walking over to the empty box adjacent to yours. “This is unpaid labor. Definitely illegal.”

“You came here, willingly.” You pointed out, then leaned over to give him a quick peck on the cheek. “There. I paid you. Totally legal.”

Aki points to his lips. “That’s minimum wage. I deserve a bonus, since I’m working last minute, don’t I?”

—

“That’s the last one.” Aki huffed and smoothed out his incredible slick back and stick-up ponytail, looking over at you in shorts, the huge t-shirt you stole from him, and slippers that are definitely overdue a replacement.

“I told you we should’ve hired movers.” You sneered and rolled your eyes, sweat lining your eyebrows as the hot sun poured onto the two of you. You hopped into the van's passenger seat, immediately pulling down the sunshade and basking in the coolness.

“You have every home decor item from every home decor store in every city in Japan and probably beyond in your house. I wasn’t anticipating that.” Aki reached down to put the car in reverse, backing out of the parking spot. “Plus, I did most of the heavy work.”

You rested your tilted head on your propped arm on the center console of the car, fighting back a giggle – not gonna give him the satisfaction of a joke that actually landed for once. “You’re so sassy.”

“You like it.”

“...Whatever.”

—

Before entering the complex, Aki gave you a stringent set of rules and a rather cohesive oral rundown of how your meeting with Denji and the others is going to go. The former was on a piece of paper, written in oddly legible chicken scratch. On the top, there was a directory of sorts of all 3 of his roommates, paired with rough doodles of their images. It read as follows:

NO screaming with Denji, Power, or Nayuta.

Do NOT ask Nayuta about the dog’s personalities, names, ages, or any of the sort.

Do NOT ask Power or Denji any questions.

NO play-fighting, no sparring, no physical contact with ANY of the idiots roommates.

Do NOT talk too much with them.

Yeah, sure. You’ll follow them, but sometimes… rules are suggestions. You’ve known Aki for over 3 years; anyone who keeps him company is your friend. Any friend of yours is treated with wholehearted love. So, it’ll be justified when you break the physical contact rule. A hug should be fine, right? 

Walking up the stairs with Aki, he reminds you of the makeshift contract. “You don’t want to deal with Power especially. Trust me. It’s all in your best interest to adhere to it.”

You brushed him off with a wave of the hand. “Sure. I bet they’re the coolest ever and you’re just a huge grump.” He turned the knob for you, pushed the door open, and rolled his eyes, ushering you into the apartment where the three were gathered around the chabudai, playing cards. 

“YES!” The red-horned one started screaming, slamming the cards down as the blonde started to grumble in discontent, mumbling something about cheating, fluidly mixed with an impressive string of profanities. It was obvious they had not recognized your presence, but the black-haired child did, neck craned, eyes burning a hole in your skull. Dogs surrounded her figure seated by the chabudai as she fed each one a bone-shaped treat. Surprisingly, they’re oddly well-behaved for such a numerous bunch. Wow. The prophecies are true.

You stood there awkwardly, looking up at Aki for help; however, he let go of your hand and shrugged, making his way to the kitchen to wash dishes that had a substance burned and caked onto them beyond repair.

“Hello,” your voice, although naturally loud, barely overpowered the even louder atmosphere, courtesy of the red-horned and the blonde – which, by the drawings on the paper, you presume are Power and Denji – prompting the black-haired child – Nayuta? – to roll her eyes and hit her hand on the low table to get their attention, gesturing to you. “She’s here.”

The blonde – sorry – Denji’s jaw drops. Aki tugs an apron on, puts something in the oven, and completely ignores the event as if it happens daily. Does it happen every day? Power immediately jumps up from the table and hops over to you. “You’re Aki’s girlfriend?” She says, mildly judgemental. 

You nod, beaming. Forget the rules, she’s adorable! “You’re literally so cute! Are your horns real?” You reach to touch them, and she slightly maneuvers her head to make it easier for you.

“Yeah. But don’t get any ideas,” she says, seemingly sizing you up. “Just ‘cause you’re moving in doesn’t mean you get to call the shots. I still do.” Power says, pushing her proud chest out.

You laugh, feeling tears prickle your waterline… from fear, or is she just funny? Okay, this one is the queen in that “queen and her lowly subordinates” game. You hear Aki reprimand her from the kitchen, and she answers with an annoyed “What?”

Denji sighed, pushing Power aside with one arm, prompting a grunt and a sudden dive of her head, mouth open and clearly aimed to snatch off the skin of Denji’s forearm. However, the fiasco is immediately stopped by a stern “Hey!” from Aki. 

“Sorry about her,” Denji sighs. “She doesn’t know how to act.” He rolls his eyes and then sticks out a hand for you to shake. What a gentleman! Aki must’ve been exaggerating in those horror stories about him. You take his hand, nodding and saying hello.

It’s sticky.

His hand is… tacky. You blink once, twice, and one more time before tightening all of your facial features and retracting your hand with extraordinary quickness, clenching your hand in your t-shirt. “Your hand,” you breathe out. “It’s, um,”

“Oh. Sticky? No big deal.” Denji laughs from his stomach. “But uhh, I don’t know where from. Probably like, from cleaning up after Nayuta’s dogs.”

You look over at Aki once again. He’s got oven mitts on and sharp flour on the part of his apron that meets the counter. 

He shrugs.

—

You flop down on the bed, exhausted with a raw hand – from scrubbing off every trace of … whatever … that could’ve been left on your hand. 

“Are you okay?” Aki walks in, wet-haired and with a towel wrapped around his waist. He eyes your figure splayed out across the bed, with a telling look that screams “I told you so”. He gets dressed, climbs into the bed, and lets you rest your head on his chest. “Well,” he starts, but you shoot him an annoyed look, so he pushes his lower lip up in a cartoonish frown and stays silent.

“I like them,” you finally say, after 10 minutes of deafening silence, punctuated by a snore coming from a neighboring room. It seems the others are asleep. “They’re cool. Fun.” Okay – optimistic much? Your cup is half full, not half empty. 

Aki laughs at you, kissing you on the head and pulling the covers up. “Okay,” is all he says, but you could tell he still wanted to declare himself right. “You’re staying?” He asks, an eyebrow up under his wet bangs. 

Today, you indirectly touched dried dog urine – question mark? –, got threatened by a loud, red-horned girl, and walked into what is practically a dog shelter. 

You nod, sighing. “Yes, I’m staying.” You look up at him, a smile on his face, one he was very obviously trying to fight earlier. “Quit smiling. It takes a lot to deter me, so I’ll stay. I like them.”

“I’ll stop smiling if you kiss me.”

“Go to sleep.”

[cod-imagines-fanfiction]

Jealous Alejandro kidnaps Valeria's girlfriend to be interrogated by the 141 (2.3k words, part 2)

Summary: Valeria despairs when you don't answer her calls and immediately returns to her residence, only to find you gone. In the meantime, Graves presses you for information, and Alejandro starts to understand why Valeria hides you so well.

TW: mentions of cheating, toxic Valeria and very toxic Alejandro (OOC but I think it adds juicy drama, sorry for ruining him!). Mentions of death and violence. apologies for the imperfect Spanish, I've been using Google Translate! I titled this as 'Valeria's girlfriend' but I ended up writing them as kind of unofficially married. Link to part 1 Link to part 3 Link to A03

Valeria knew something was wrong when you didn't pick up the phone. In all your years together, she never had to call for you more than once, you were always at her beck and call. Her face turned to stone as the call went to voicemail, it felt like her heart stopped and then started again with fire and poison. In hindsight, she should have worried about your safety first, but unfortunately, her insecurities got the best of her. Anger seethed within her as she thought of all the ways you had betrayed her the moment she left you alone. Infidel! Her right-hand man Rafael was looking at you closely when she left, no? How could she be so blind as to trust you? Of course, you were jumping around with her men behind her back - you seemed all innocent and pure, but sure enough the viper within revealed itself and finally slithered out of her tight grasp. Immediately, she called Rafael to check up on the house, and when he also didn't pick up the phone, she cut her trip short and packed her bags. El Sin Nombre doesn't need to explain why she's leaving early! She commanded her business partners to figure it out amongst themselves as she went to her chopper and rushed home. Her hands shook as she navigated the helicopter, her mind unable to stop thinking of all the ways you were intertwined with Rafael on your marriage bed; desecrating your marriage vows. Of course this would happen. Why would fate let Valeria get away with the betrayal she'd inflicted on Alejandro? It was only right that her karmic debt would catch up with her.

It was as she was lowering her helicopter on the freshly cut grass of your home that she began to realise her devastating mistake. Doors were left open with the curtains billowing with the wind, broken glass from shattered windows littered the entryway and, worst of all, dried trails of blood lead a path from the house to the bushes. Her heart caught at her throat as her eyes roamed frantically from one catastrophic sign to the other. Guilt coiled around her stomach and she cursed her darkness for having doubted your loyalty when really, you were fighting for your life. "Mi esposa," Valeria whispered as rushed out of her helicopter, the blades still cutting the air as she ran indoors, not even bothering to be cautious of any enemies that could still be lurking within the shadows. She knew there were bodies dumped behind the green bushes that you so tenderly cared for, but she couldn't make herself check for you there. Part of her hoped you were smart and had the time to hide somewhere good, but she knew you were as helpless as a child when it came to things like this. You, who were so kind and good, left to fend for yourself. How could she possibly think you'd remain unharmed within this field of work? Valeria selfishly forced a divine light like you to live in the shadows with her, of course you'd get snuffed out eventually. If not by Valeria's own hand, her selfishness and greed, her need to possess and own you at all times, then by the selfish and greedy hands of others. All these thoughts rushed through her as she ran from one hallway to another, rushing to your part of the mansion. Memories of violence clung to your home like spiderwebs, she could see the struggle that ensued in the doors left open when you'd normally keep them closed. In the flower vase that you lovingly refilled every week that now lay on the floor shattered, shattered like her heart. The flowers lay on the floor, dying.

"Mi corazon...," she whimpered and came to a stop right before your bedroom door, one hand clutching her chest as she stood there, too afraid to step in and face your fate. She could only hear the wind catching on your curtains and the light humming of your electric blanket. She could already picture the catastrophe. You were in bed, lathering your lotions on, probably adjusting your night light because you were too afraid to sleep in the dark without Valeria next to you. You were all snuggled for bed, probably waiting for her call on the phone, when somebody came for you. "God, give me courage," she said as she stepped inside and lifted her eyes.

It was as if you evaporated into thin air. She saw the marks your body left on the bed where you lay on it and your phone was still there. Valeria's eyes scanned every inch of the space, no blood or other fluids were on any of the surfaces. You were either taken, or whatever happened to you happened elsewhere. All your belongings were still there. She didn't want to have false hope, so she willed herself to look at the bodies left by the bushes. She charged through the rest of the houses, taking note of all the mess. Her chopper was still on as she crossed the garden you tended to, the sweet smell of roses faintly covering the stench of blood lifting from the pile of bodies. Rafael was there, along with the rest of her men who manned the house in her absence. Treacherous relief washed through her because you were not there. This was the most devastating attack that Valeria had ever experienced in all her years and she could not think of anyone that hated her enough to do this. A rival cartel? Unlikely. They were violent criminals, sure, but they still kept a code of conduct amongst themselves. El Sin Nombre was the biggest competitor out there, no one was so stupid as to do this.

Valeria went to the security room and saw the CCTV footage. Her heart stopped when she saw an all-too-familiar figure invading her home. The tall, dark man cut through her men and made his way directly to where her wife lay. It's like he knew exactly where she was. "Alejandro?" Valeria's heart dropped as she watched Alejandro prepare to break the door and attack her wife, who was shrouded in a naive innocence where she could never comprehend the attack she was about to experience.

Angry tears threatened to spill from her glassy eyes as she saw Alejandro's hand grab you by the throat and drag you out of your marital bed. The same bed that you made love in every night, now permanently defiled with the way he violently dragged you out of it. Bruises from his fingers would have definitely formed on your soft skin by now, if you were still alive. Valeria watched on as Alejandro handcuffed her wife and pushed her through the hallways, saying something to her ear whilst parading her through the home she was supposed to be safe in. It was no coincidence that Alejandro stared directly at one of the cameras as he pushed her wife forward, looking directly at Valeria's eyes. This was no incidental operation; this was deliberate and malicious. More so, it was fucking personal. Yes, this was where Valeria ran her operation, but it was also the home you and her nested in so lovingly. And now it was trampled all over by men in uniforms, just like those fallen flowers. She forced herself to watch on as you were put in a helicopter and disappeared in the night sky.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "I hope you're ready to talk now, sweetheart." After a few hours of silence, the door to the container you were kept in opened, bringing in some rays of sunlight before shutting again. The American, whom you now knew was called Commander Graves, entered along with Alejandro. It had been many hours since your abduction, you had no way of telling how long exactly. But you were tired and restless, and cold. You thought they might move you to a cell at least, but they made no effort to transfer you out of the metal container. Too afraid to say anything when not spoken to, you sat still and waited. You wondered if Valeria had noticed your absence yet but even if she did, how could she find you? "I'm not sure what to tell you, sir." You remained polite hoping that courtesy would make up for your lack of talking. "Don't be like that, there's plenty to tell. How about we start with this little business trip of hers?" Graves circled around you, placing his hand on your shoulder before finally coming to a stop. " What'du hear about it?" Graves had many years of experience underneath his belt when it came to interrogation, especially the violent ones. And so did the 141. That was made very clear from the beginning. If this was any ordinary member of the cartel, they'd have buried them by now. But spouses were different; you hurt them and there'll be hell to pay. Even worse, there'll be no chance of making a deal with Valeria. "Like I said, I just know she went away for it, sir, that's all."

"Hm," he said and dropped his hand. He moved to stand right in front of you. "Well, you must know something. You know she's El Sin Nombre. You know she runs the biggest drug cartel in Latin America. You know she runs an international operation, you know she has friends in many places. What am I missing here?"

You looked up at him. "That's basically it, sir. It's a drug operation. But I don't know where it comes from, who her manufacturers are, or how she sells it. She doesn't deal with small details." Graves was starting to lose his patience, and not with her but with Alejandro. He couldn't understand why he insisted on extracting a housewife instead of the real deal. Here he was trying to gather intel on those Russian missiles with a trophy wife who hasn't had a day out of the kitchen, let alone discussions with the biggest terrorist organisation in the world. It was time to cut loose and make the call. "Hermano, take over for me will ya? I'll be right back." Graves walked away, wondering what General Sherperd will think of this whole situation.

You were alone with Alejandro now, who paced up and down the compound like a restless animal. You wondered to yourself how similar he was to Valeria, she had the exact same habit when she was stressed. They were very similar in temperament; too similar. Aggressive, hard-headed and dominant. Part of you gloated at the whole situation. Here was a Colonel of the Mexican Army, a well-decorated military man, wasting his time with you, someone quite irrelevant in the grand scheme of things, all because of- "Your wife," he said, disrupting your thoughts and you suddenly realised you were staring at him. "Is that correct?" He nodded at your ring finger. "Yes, sir," you replied timidly. He was exactly like Valeria, and it worked in your favour. You've spent so many years living with your partner that it was almost too easy to deal with people like her. People who could fill up a room with their presence; intimidating, powerful people who could hurt you badly. The sort of people who made the world go round. People, in other words, who could be domesticated.

Because violence and intimidation aren't the only ways to get what you want. Alejandro scoffed, "you've come a long way from that food stand, huh?" He looked at you with a faraway look in his eye, his mind having entered that shrouded area of the psyche where apparitions of the past hover, always eager to glide into the present in the form of memories. Your heart softened both at the memory he was referencing and because, at that moment, he seemed so pitifully sad, having lost himself in reminiscence.

Many years ago, you helped your Abuela run her restaurant in Las Almas, which stood very close to where the Mexican Army had its headquarters. Your Abuela was a genius in strategy and profited a lot from the laziness of soldiers who couldn't be bothered to cook for themselves but who also didn't want to eat whatever the Army served. And that's how you met Valeria, who was regularly sent by her teammates to fetch a group order. Valeria picked up the food because it was expected of her, an unfortunate burden of being one of the youngest women in her squad. But over time, she did it because it meant she got to see you. To everyone's surprise, when Valeria ran away to work for the cartel, that quiet girl in the small restaurant vanished too. "Alejandro." His eyes snapped back into yours. "Lo siento mucho. I really didn't know about you and Valeria. I am not that kind of person." You knew exactly what this was all about. Sure, they wanted to get El Sin Nombre and Valeria *was* the head of the biggest drug operation in the world. And she *has* made Las Almas dance to the rhythm of her tune for the past decade. But this was all just a big temper tantrum. And if you played your cards right, you could leave unscathed. You continued, "Whatever happens, I just wanted you to know that. I am truly sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone."

Something changed in his eyes. You could already picture what was about to happen. After your sincere self-flogging will come his pity, then the remorse. He might chuck you in a cell to show that he's treating you like the criminal collaborator that they all think you are, but soon enough he'll arrive bearing the fruits of forgiveness. Just like Valeria, you told yourself. Like moths to a flame. "Hm," he mumbled to himself, his eyes roaming all over you. "I get it now." He cocked his head to the side, "eres una cosa encantadora." At that moment, you felt a change in the air, something dark hovered between you two. It made you shiver.

"Tell me, Y/N. Have you ever been with a man?"

Hope you enjoy this part! Promised tags: @justmare @sleepiemain @caffeineliker @lesvii @silas-222 I'll bring Valeria and her partner together in part 3! I've also thought of a cute backstory for them that I want to get into :) also sorry for ruining Alejandro, i made him so toxic in this fic 😭

[mischieffae]

Elskhuga { Loki x gn! angst ficlet }

Summary: After thrusted into the storm of battle, Loki and his gang of trustees reach the outskirts of Svartalfheim in order to recuperate and tend to the wounded. His lover included, the Prince must find the strength to not fall into despair.

Pairing: Loki x gn!character ( I wrote this in third person, and kept the gn love interest vague so you can either insert your own oc or read like a reader insert. )

Warnings: Angst, all the feels, blood, wounds, near death experience, pre-established relationship. This might be a tad ooc but listen, I need protective Loki ok?

The soot of Svartalfheim's lands and blood of their enemies stained the company's clothing, a mere reminder of what had previously transpired not too long ago. For days the warriors of Asgard fought mindlessly against the Dark Elves on their domain. The Aesir feared their lust for darkness and disruption to the natural order would become reality. But under Heimdall's watchful eye and by command of Odin, the two princelings and their companions lead Asgard's small army as a tactic of intimidation.

A mere foolish encounter, which they soon later discovered.

Faint breaths and the rustlings of leather echoed in the small cave's mouth, the darkness that dwelled there snuffed out by the fire's red glow. Sif and the Warrior's Three (Fandral, Volstagg and Hogun) huddled around its warmth, occasionally rubbing their hands together as their breaths fogged all around them. Thor, son of Odin, nestled by one of their wounded companions tucked in loose furs. There was a heaviness within the air as he spoke softly towards his left.

"I fear their wounds have worsened overnight, brother."

Loki, son of Laufeyson clenched his jaw from his confession. The wounded who laid before him was a keeper of his heart. Now heavily breathing with a sheen of sweat, but once held such beauty and youth in their face. He shouldn't have brought them here, on this perilous mission but they had insisted on not leaving Loki's side.

The two of them had known each other since childhood, often accompanying one another while Thor rough housed with Sif and the Warriors. There was a long history of adoration, longing, and a feeling of love within the both of them that could never be washed away by the tide of time.

And to have them risk their life in a meaningless show of power ignited a flame within the trickster's chest that he wanted to unleash.

"There must be something...." Venom leaked from his pale lips, his slender hands reaching outward to grasp upon his lover's arms in a tight embrace for comfort. "We cannot just let them die under our command."

The raise in Loki's voice made the warrior's look upward from the fire's glow, hesitance on their faces before he continued.

"Volstagg knew fully well that they were within enemy range! If I had just not turned my back for one second this barbaric group of imbeciles would have noticed the enemy's arrow flying in their direction!"

His voice choked on the last syllable in his rant, tears threatening to fall down his hollow cheeks.

"Now now, do not blame others for your incompetence of witnessing a mere arrow, silvertongue. The fault is not our own", raised Fandral's voice. He knew he had struck a nerve, but they were all on edge seeing their companion fade away on the floor below.

"Enough...", Thor's voice echoed softly against the cave's walls, beginning to feel a coil of tension about ready to explode.

"Is that what you would call it? A mere arrow? Will you repeat your foolish words while standing at their pyre? Or shall you save it before I behead your ill-favored head from your mere shoulders?"

"ENOUGH!" Thunder crackled from outside their retreat, their silence loud as they gathered themselves. Loki knelt beside the wounded companion with a defeated sigh, the fire's crackling the only noise heard until a soft voice spoke.

"We are all weary and worried for our friend. Please, let us not continue the onslaught within our own company." Sif released a short huff with a bent of her head, her eyes glistening with thought. "We must keep trying, perhaps the poison had subsided from Loki's magic. If we keep-"

"There is nothing left to do, lady warrior." Agitation sounded from the trickster's voice, a trembling huff escaping him before bringing his attention back towards his lover's pale features. He lifted a shaking hand to ghost along their soft cheek, pausing a finger on their parted lip. "We will be lucky if they survive the night."

------

Memories of earlier that day flashed in his mind, the sounds of metal in the air as they treaded along Svartalfheim's wasteland. A small band of Asgard's soldiers accompanied them to a deserted inland of open land. A place where they would negotiate and come to terms with some intimidation tactics. Loki's silver tongue, however, would not land its mark.

The Elves thrusted themselves upon the group without any warning, swords clashing against swords with a might of defiance. Many would fall, the stench of blood filling the air as Thor's mighty swings clashed against skull and bone. Sif's sword and shield danced with the enemies weapons, Volstagg's heavy axe not falling too far behind. Fandral and Hogun would soon find their swords claiming many lives with a stain of gore.

Loki would occasionally protect his partner with a finesse of his trickster motions, throwing dagger upon dagger to land their marks. He turned his back against his partner's own, giving trust to the Warrior's as he continued to use Aesir magic to confuse his opponent.

But trust, comes with a cost.

He felt a sudden jolt of the other's body against his back and a sharp cry, his heart clenching in fear as he quickly turned around. They were all unaware of the silent archer on their left, hidden in the shadows behind decaying rock. The arrow had pierced his lover's chest, merely missing their heart as they fell to the ground with a pained groan. The tip of the arrow had been poisoned, their body soon paralyzed from its instant effectiveness.

Loki screamed in pure rage, conjuring himself to appear in front of the attacker with a flicker of emerald cloud. Before the Elf could react, the trickster plunged a dagger within his throat with a vengeful scream, driving that blade deeper and deeper with each forceful thrust of pure hate. He kept the attack, the body before him long gone as it slumped to the dirt below but he continued on. Again, again, his breath releasing in short spurts with tears in his eyes. All sense of control left him as red coated his fingers and arms, specks of it's essence spitting on his angered face.

"Loki!!! Loki enough!!!" Thor quickly ran to his brother's aid, the battle ceased around them as he grasped the other's arm to cease his assault. "Enough, please...enough.."

A pained sob escaped past Loki's lips as he slowed his movements, the dagger continuing to plunge into the body's frame with grotesque noises. It was Thor's hand upon him that brought him back to reality, his eyes widening in realization before dashing towards his partner's side.

They were alive, but barely hanging on the edge. The poison already beginning to pump through their veins. A small smile spread on their lips, hands lifting to graze along the princeling's blood soaked cheek.

"Loki -...." It was all they could muster, the only thing he heard before they fell into darkness.

-------

The shade of green enveloped the cave as Loki continued to release his magic within his lover's chest, the group around him fallen asleep with the gentle sound of enchantment. He couldn't give up, his body begging for slumber but his mind determined to soothe the poison within them. Thor too was still awake, calling to Heimdall to open the Bifrost but to no avail. After many attempts, Odinson returned to their retreat and placed a heavy hand upon his aching shoulder.

"I'm sorry, dear brother. My words do not reach him....I-"

Loki furrowed his brows in concentration, silencing him with a hush of his voice. "I will make sure he hears an earful from me later, but for now, leave me..."

Thor couldn't help but form a sad smile on his face, his fingers gripping a bit before moving away.

He couldn't give up....couldn't stop...

-------

The soft glow of morning's sun hidden behind dark clouds illuminated against stone walls, a gentle shade of green still forming on the trickster's hands against his partner's chest. He had fallen asleep upright, his sorcery never ceasing their purpose even when the mind was resting. The others were still in slumber around a dying fire, the gentle crackling of embers filling his ears.

There was a soft touch upon his hand, fingers brushing along his knuckles in a ghostly manner. His body jolted slightly from the touch, eyes fluttering open before gazing upon a reassuring smile.

They will be ok, they will be ok...

Tagged: @thefairywithboots @oswildin @eleniblue @aiislinnn @thewasandshouldbeking @stilleobjection

I hope it's ok if I tag you guys as well! ♥️ @lokisgoodgirl, @sarahscribbles, @loki-cees-all

[danosrosegarden]

heart for brains - karl heisenberg x gn!reader headcanons (NSFW) ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚♡

{contents ♡ turbulent feelings, a good mix of fluff and angst, somnophilia, penetrative sex (genitals of reader not specified)}

{word count ♡ ~700}

{author's note ♡ this piece was originally going to be this year's kinktober day five, but i just couldn't wait! i'm new to the resident evil fandom, so if this is horrifyingly ooc or "he would not fucking say that" in any way, please avert your eyes and pretend you saw nothing. enjoy!}

♡ a bizarre flurry of emotions fluttered through your veins each time you looked at him. it was unfamiliar territory, whatever it was you two had going on. you were both navigating without compasses. the thick, sugary-sweet warmth of another body laying in bed next to him was something karl never thought he'd want. the comforting wrap of arms around your shoulders was something you never thought you'd need.

♡ but it was all a far, confusing cry from picturesque. you spent hours at the end of most days trying to piece together the shards of broken glass scattered around the frame.

♡ sometimes you raised your voices. sometimes you went to bed with any gently glowing, good memories snuffed out by the scorching hot anger you felt pulsating through your body. yet still, more times than you'd like to admit, you felt pools of tears glistening like dirty, shameful rivers in your eyes. goddamnit, why did you care like you did? if you were to be dancing this dizzying, aching tango with any other man, you would have ruled a long time ago that he just wasn't worth it. what made heisenberg so fucking special?

♡ the good moments did exist. you thought of them with a skipping heart and soft smile. how deeply those moments moved you. those moments where he'd let you run your nimble fingers through his hair. those moments where you'd let him sew tender kisses onto your neck. you knew it didn't come easy for either of you.

♡ you should understand something crystal clearly: it wasn't that he didn't care for you, too. karl reran the tapes in his head constantly, in fact: your sparkling sunshine smile. your wild, unbridled laugh. the slow, honeyed drone of your quiet singing voice that he secretly listened in on when you thought he was out. he truly didn't want to lose what he had, but it was just easier to push you away when the blackened claws of the lonesome past held a suffocating grip on his heart.

♡ it would be difficult not to think of...certain other moments as well. the moments of desperate grabbing and blazing hot desire. chaotic passion, reckless love. was it actually love? the word grabbed hold of your throat and pushed with might. it was entirely overwhelming, and you preferred not to think of it. emotions make you weak.

♡ sex was best served after marinating in your wrath for awhile after another pointless argument. that's really what they all were...pointless. you couldn't even remember what you were angry at him for as you felt the warm appetite shimmer between your legs.

♡ it crossed your mind every once in awhile, what something slow might be like. something soft and malleable like clay, something where the walls fell down and all those hidden feelings bubbled to the surface and spilled over.

♡ and it happens, one night where you wake in the inky dark of midnight to hear soft sighs spilling from his lips where he laid next to you. you could feel him shifting, could hear the rustle of his hand on the fabric of his trousers.

♡ "you could've woken me up."

♡ you feel his body jump. "didn't know you were awake. sorry." his rasped, half-hearted mumble gives you a chuckle.

♡ your emotions make you weak. you can't seem to bring yourself to care about that when he takes you up on your offer and slips inside of you, hands wrapped around your chest. "back to bed, sweet thing," he whispers.

♡ maybe you were weak. maybe you did crave to let your heart override it all. god, it felt good to let yourself tumble down the silk-soft staircase of unconsciousness as the hot, tingling knot coiled itself tighter and tighter in your gut with each gentle thrust. drowsy with sleep, drunk off the feeling of the mild stretch and warm breath on your neck.

♡ there'd be the days that upset you. sour snapshot memories that you'd look back on with a pit in your stomach. but you love him. you think of the bright days and you're sure of it.