#but oh. did it leave you alone most of the time

[vladtoly]

Thanos the Match Maker

Nam-gyu x Female!Reader

Requested: Yes

Proofread: No

A/N: Hope this is what you had in mind! I had to re-watch some of his scenes to get a feel for him again, so I hope I did it justice. Thanks for requesting!

You stared at the boxed meal in front of you, eyeing it warily before going back to your bunk. Surely, they wouldn’t poison all of you right? It seemed that their whole play was being ‘fair’ in the games, so poisoning had to be off the table. Even with that thought though, you inspected each piece of food before taking a bite.

While slowly eating, you let your eyes wander the dorms. Everyone was obviously rattled, most not even touching their food. A large group of them stood in front of Player 456 to interrogate him about the last games. Just for his own sake, you wished he had stayed quiet. You understood he was attempting to save everyone, but he was preaching to the wrong audience. None of these people wanted to leave without money, and it was very clear that no sum of it would be enough.

You looked back down at your food. Sighing, you stopped inspecting and just ate. If you died, you died, at least you wouldn’t be hungry.

Footsteps began to approach your bunk, catching your attention. You looked up just in time to see Thanos and his sidekicks in tow, Player 124 opting for leaning on your bunk railing. Your eyes met for a split second, you looking away when he gave a slight smirk.

“How can I help you boys?” You said, attention going back to your meal.

Thanos leaned forward, his elbows on the mattress as he rested his head in his hands to get a better look at you. “Couldn’t help but notice you alone. It’s not very safe in here, you may need a guy to protect you in the next game.”

Letting out a snort, you continued to pick at your food. “Not in the market for a bodyguard, thanks. I don’t need your help.”

“Who said I was talking about me, Senorita?”

Now that caught your attention. This guy didn’t like to be out of the spotlight, so this should be good.

You looked up, meeting his gaze. “And who exactly are you talking about?”

He slid back so he was fully standing, smacking a firm hand on Player 124’s shoulder. He seemed to know just as little about this interaction as you did, if his shell-shocked expression were to mean anything. “My boy here! Nam-gyu can protect you no problem.”

Nam-gyu quickly collected himself, going back to his usual expression as he leaned back onto the bunk railing. He leaned in close, his breath almost touching your face as he spoke. “We don’t know what the next game’s going to be. But what I can tell you now is that I’d make sure you’re safe, baby.”

You raised a slight brow at the pet name but felt your cheeks warm at it at the same time. However, you couldn’t let this guy win that easily. It’s not like he’s been a delight up until this point.

You met his gaze and cocked your head to the side. “Oh really? And how do you plan to keep me safe if we don’t know the game, hm?”

“Well,” he opted to sit on the edge of the bunk, resting his hand on the mattress. His face had moved closer. “I may not know what the game is, but if you stay close, I’ll personally make sure nothing happens to you. We may even have a little fun, who knows?”

Your gaze studied the rest of his face, pores and all. Then it moved to the rest of him, eyeing up if he really could protect you. You realized he was hitting on you, the goal was to get closer to you, which you admit was working.  But you wouldn’t mind some extra help next game if it was needed.

When you were content, you made eye contact again. “Fine. Meet me at my bunk tomorrow morning, before the next round.”

He chuckled, moving his hand off the mattress and onto your thigh. “Or you could come eat with us now, get to know each other better.”

You couldn’t deny how your stomach flipped at the touch. Yet you cleared your throat and slowly moved his hand. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, baby. Maybe I’ll come by in a bit.”

He seemed content with that as his face split into a grin and he finally stood up. When he turned though, he realized Thanos and the other player had already wandered off, probably during your conversation. He scoffed but made a point to nod to you before going in search of them.

You laughed lightly, before looking at your lap, where your half-eaten food still sat open.

Fuck it. Might as well have fun if you might die anyways.

----------

Squid Game headcannon/blurb requests are OPEN!

[cthulhus-curse]

Soft mommy Wanda who…cradles you closely whenever you have a bad day, something yoou don't even need to tell her. "Mommy knows," is what Wanda oftentimes explains. She will hum softly as you lay against her chest, her arms wrapped around you as nimble fingers trace lazy fingers along your exposed skin -- her body similarly nude. She will plant one, two, and maybe three kisses for good measure atop your forehead, each bettering your mood more than the last. "I'm here for you, baby," Wanda promises you. "Mommy will always be here."

Soft mommy Wanda who…loves cooking for you. She takes it very seriously, ensuring to try a handful of recipes on a weekly basis. You feel a tad bit antsy as you sit around waiting for whatever new meal your mommy will prepare for you, but she has none of that. Instead, Wanda sends you off to enjoy some time alone, partaking in your hobbies to not dare peek into the kitchen and ruin her surprise. One of your favorites ends up being a deliciously made tomato soup, albeit simple, with a grilled cheese oozes out the cheddar in only the most mouth-watering of ways. And of course your mommy doesn't let you take a bite of your food unless she blows on it to make sure you won't burn yourself.

Soft mommy Wanda who…can spend hours between your legs making you see the stars. She gets off from simply using her mouth to please you, at times her fingers which stretch you out in the most lewd ways imaginable. Wanda leaves love bites all over your skin, worshipping you as though you were an entity -- which, in her mind, you might as well be. And when you cum, Wanda has to hold you down. "Shh, mommy's got you, sweetheart. Let go for me. There you go. There's a good girl. Oh, you did so well for your mommy."

Soft mommy Wanda who…enjoys aftercare more than anything. She just loves taking care of you so much. Cleaning you up, getting you a glass of water and a snack, all while she peppers sweet kisses on you. And then of course she draws a bath for the two of you to enjoy, ensuring she sits behind you to carefully wash your hair, her fingers casually massaging themselves along your scalp, as you relax on her.

Soft mommy Wanda who…shudders when your lips encircle her nipples. Oh but does she love it. At times she has to grab a fistful of your hair to keep herself grounded, but soon finds relief in the way you suck on her breasts. It makes her feel all warm and fussy inside, much like your checked-out mind in those moments. "There you go, baby. Bet that feels good, huh?" Wanda mumbles to you, her lips hovering over your forehead as you keep nursing. "Such a good girl. Oh, mommy's best girl."

[yuzuvrse]

i will not go gentle into that good night

in life and in death, you love(d) daisuke.

warnings : daisuke (mouthwashing) x reader, implied sa [of reader], major character death, mouthwashing spoilers, canon-typical violence & then a bit more, reader crashes out on jimmy (deserved), pet names (reader calls daisuke baby)

“Oh, Daisuke…” You sob, tears dripping down your face as you look at the young man lying on the floor in front of you. Once so vivacious and full of life, now he's reduced to a writhing, bleeding mess on the floor, hair matted with blood and eyes glassy. “My baby,” you hesitate to even touch him, but then you're stroking his cheek the same way you always did when you were cuddling together, “My poor baby, what happened to you?”

His pupils are unfocused, darting around crazily before finally settling on you, and his breath that was coming in short pants slows. “Mmm?” He looks up at you, really looks, and you know he knows you're there. “Yes, Daisuke, it's me, I'm here,” you gaze at him through teary eyes, “I'm here for you.” His hand rises shakily as if to hold your face and you cup it eagerly, nuzzling into it with an almost pathetic desperation, “D-don't move, baby, don't move.” You whimper, though you want nothing more than to stay like this with his warm hand on your cheek.

“I wish I'd been there with you.” The thought of the man you love crawling through the vents alone, through the dark and dust and dirt and sparks, all for the sake of saving poor dead Anya… it breaks your heart into pieces. You can't even fathom how much pain he's in, but he still musters up the strength to shake his head ever so slightly. Even on death's doorstep, he’s still worried about you. “Why did you go?” You weep, even though you already know the answer, “Stupid wannabe hero.” Daisuke exhales, a long ragged breath that's wreaked with pain and your heart shatters even more. You crumple into yourself, pressing your forehead against his gently, “You are a hero, Daisuke, okay? You're so brave, my precious baby, fuck-!” The absolute unfairness of the situation hits you like a freight train and you can feel your sanity slipping as you clutch his hand tightly, your sole tether to reality.

“I'm sorry I wasn't there with you,” you plead for his forgiveness, though you already know once you gaze into his loving brown eyes you'll find no hatred there. The guilt is overwhelming, threatening to consume you even though you were a victim of the same cocktail given to Swansea. Daisuke merely looks at you, his chest rising and falling, shallower and shallower each time. You know he doesn't blame you.

“My baby, Daisuke, I'll fix this, okay? You're going to be fine, okay?!” You can feel the hysteria lacing your tone and you don't know how to get rid of it. Then you feel the familiar weight of Swansea's hand on your shoulder, “Kid… Get out of the way.” You turn back to face the mechanic, and as soon as your bloodshot eyes catch a glimpse of the axe you know what he wants to do. “Swansea, no! You can't!” You throw yourself in front of Daisuke, sobbing freely, “Please, Swansea, don't do it!” Swansea's tough demeanor cracks for a split second, and he says, “He's suffering like this. You don't want him to be in pain, do you?” “But I want him to live,” You cry, “We're going to make it home together, Daisuke promised me!” Hearing the words leave your mouth cements the thought for what it really was – a childish fantasy. “Kid… I'm sorry,” is all Swansea can say, knuckles clenched white around the axe handle.

Daisuke lets out a pained gasp, air rushing in through gritted teeth, and you know you can't prolong this anymore. “Baby…” you brush his long brown hair out of his face tenderly, affection evident in your every move. Leaning down to press a final kiss to his lips, you whisper, “It'll happen, okay? We'll move in together and get two dogs that'll be best friends, just like you said you wanted. You'll go to art college and become the most famous painter in the whole world. And I'll be there with you every step of the way because-” Your voice cracks. “Because I love you so much, my Daisuke.” “Now close your eyes, baby,” You stay like that for a moment, thumb stroking his cheek as you watch his features slip into a content expression. Then you turn away, blood thrumming in your ears and rushing through your head, and before you know it, the axe is swinging through the air before hitting its mark with a sickening crunch.

A choked sob escapes your lips, and you feel Swansea's comforting embrace as he pulls you into his arms, “Shh… It's okay. It had to be done.” You bury your face in his chest, an endless stream of tears wetting his shirt, “Daisuke… he didn't deserve this!” “I've got you,” Swansea remains strong, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “No, don't look.” He guides your chin away when you crane your neck to try and catch a final glimpse of the man you love, “Remember him for who he was, not like this.” “Swansea…” A broken moan rips itself from your throat, “I loved him.” And all the old man can do is caress your hair, pulling you tighter into his arms as you cry, “I know, kid. He loved you too.”

—

“You.” You snarl as soon as Jimmy walks into the room, eyes widening when he sees Daisuke's corpse, “This is your fault!” “What the fuck?” Jimmy gasps, staring at Swansea, “You monster!” “Fuck you!” You scream, and the look of total shock and horror on Jimmy's face that you, a foolish intern dares to speak to him so rudely, is almost cathartic as you repeat, “This is all your fault!”

Then you're lunging at him, arms swinging in every direction until you topple him over, nails scratching at his face and gripping his neck so tightly you hope you draw blood. Tears are falling down your face as you sob, “I didn't say anything about what you did to me. About what you did to Anya. But why did you have to hurt Daisuke?!” “T-the medbay… locked… Anya…” Jimmy chokes out, and you laugh wildly, “What a fucking joke. You never cared about Anya, not when she was alive, and certainly not now that she's dead.” “And you know what?” Your nails dig deeper into his skin, and you feel a flash of wicked delight when you see the red beads start to form. “You drove her to it!”

Jimmy's gagging and spluttering, desperate for air, and you grin with vicious pride, “Is this how you felt? Sneaking into Anya’s and my room? Now you can fucking learn how we felt.” You're pressing down harder, desperate to make him feel even a sliver of the pain that Daisuke felt, that Anya felt, that you felt, but then Swansea's lifting you up and pulling you away, even as you kick and scream, “Swansea- no! Let me go!” You're about to sink your teeth into the older man's arm when he says, “I won't let you end up like him,” and you freeze, letting him place you gently on the sofa.

Jimmy holds his neck with both hands, desperately sucking in air until his frantic gaze meets yours, “You.” He stands up on shaky legs, trying to retrieve something from his back pocket, “You're a danger to the crew.” “What crew?” You bark out a hollow laugh, “There's no crew left.” Jimmy bristles at that, eyes bloodshot and crazed, “I'm going to fix this.” You laugh again, dry and devoid of mirth, “You're already dead, and so am I.” “You will be.” Jimmy cocks a gun at you, and you stare down the barrel with a warped smirk, “You were a useless captain, and an even worse man. Do it, you fucking coward.”

Swansea growls, readying the axe, but the wannabe captain's too quick. One shot bursting through your chest and you're gone. And as your eyes flutter closed for the last time, you catch a glimpse of Swansea swinging the weapon once more at Jimmy – you think you can die peacefully now that he'll avenge all the senseless deaths on the Tulpar.

You hope this hurts.

kira's notes : Um. No comment. i wrote the first half bc i was so sad abt the absolute tragedy that is daisuke's character, and then i got so unbelievably angry at jimmy that i had to write the second half LMFAO 😭 i had this in my drafts for ages bc it was xmas and then new years and i felt bad posting angst around those times 💀 but anyways happy new year! hope you liked this <3

[songbirdseung]

new year, same love / lee heeseung

going into 2025 with the man you have pined over for years now. hoping this year you won't have to admire him from afar no more.

there he goes again, strolling through the college hallways with his friends, laughing and talking about who knows what. all you know is that he looks effortlessly good while doing it. lee heeseung was gorgeous, so much so that you often wondered how someone could look better than most people you’ve seen in movies, let alone in real life. the way he carried himself—confident, assured, like he knew exactly who he was and what he wanted—made him impossible to ignore.

heeseung wasn’t just a pretty face; he was ambitious and determined, a man who knew how to chase after his goals without hesitation. but somehow, even with that drive, he managed to maintain a charm that made everyone gravitate toward him.

and you? you fell for him the moment you saw him during freshman year. back then, you thought it was just a harmless crush—something fleeting that you could brush off. but that illusion shattered the second he walked into your first class, sat beside you, and offered you the warmest smile.

"hi, i'm heeseung."

his voice was smooth, almost too comforting. you never thought you’d find someone’s voice so attractive, yet here you were, completely entranced by it.

over the next three years, you silently admired him from afar, never daring to cross the boundary of casual greetings or academic discussions. you convinced yourself there was no point. someone like heeseung, so confident and accomplished, wouldn’t look twice at someone like you—or so your insecurities told you.

but that didn’t stop you from stealing glances whenever he was in the same room or secretly melting every time he casually greeted you in passing. your friends, however, weren’t as content with your one-sided pining.

yeji and winter, your two best friends and self-proclaimed "love-life saviors," had been listening to your endless praises about heeseung for years. they were your biggest cheerleaders, hyping you up to approach him. but lately, they’d grown tired of your hesitation and decided to take matters into their own hands.

with senior year coming to an end, they knew time was running out. their plan? a harmless little scheme to push fate along—a small prank that would get you and heeseung stuck in the same room together.

the day of their so-called intervention began innocently enough. you were in the library, buried in research for your final project when yeji plopped into the chair across from you, her grin a little too wide to be genuine.

"hey, yn," she said, voice sweet but suspiciously scheming. "did you hear about the study rooms on the third floor? they just added soundproofing. perfect for concentration."

"uh, no," you replied absentmindedly, still typing away. "why?"

"oh, nothing. i just booked one for you. figured you'd need some peace and quiet."

you glanced up, suspicious. "since when are you so considerate?"

winter appeared out of nowhere, sliding into the seat next to yeji. "stop questioning and just go, yn. you'll thank us later."

reluctantly, you gathered your things and headed upstairs. the moment you entered the room, you froze.

there, sitting at the table, was lee heeseung.

"oh," you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

he looked up from his laptop, surprise flickering across his features before he smiled. "hey, yn. didn’t expect to see you here."

your brain scrambled for a coherent response. "uh, yeah... same. must be a mix-up."

you turned to leave, but the door clicked shut behind you. you tried the handle. locked.

your heart sank as realization hit: yeji and winter had set you up.

"everything okay?" heeseung asked, standing up and walking toward you.

"uh, yeah, just... locked in," you said, forcing a laugh. "probably some glitch."

he chuckled, his voice warm. "guess we’re stuck then. might as well make the most of it."

he gestured to the chairs, and you hesitantly sat down, your pulse racing.

"so," he said, leaning forward with that signature confidence, "tell me about you. we’ve had so many classes together, but i feel like i barely know anything about you."

the casual question caught you off guard, but his genuine interest disarmed you. slowly, you began to talk, sharing snippets of your life, your interests, and even your favorite coffee spot on campus.

to your surprise, heeseung listened intently, asking questions and laughing at your stories. the initial awkwardness melted away, replaced by an unexpected ease.

an hour passed before you even realized it, and when the door finally unlocked (thanks to yeji's "mysterious" intervention), you almost felt disappointed.

"guess we're free now," he said, standing up and grabbing his bag.

"yeah," you murmured, feeling a strange mix of relief and longing.

he paused by the door, glancing back at you with a small smile. "you know, this was actually fun. we should do it again sometime—minus the locking part."

your eyes widened. "oh, uh, yeah. sure."

and just like that, he was gone, leaving you standing there with your heart racing and your mind spinning.

yeji and winter were definitely going to pay for this—but maybe, just maybe, you’d thank them later.

[startaegi]

ON THE RUN, cho hyunju. 【 CHAPTER 01 】

⤑ pairing, cho hyunju x fem!reader

⤑ synopsis, where secret-not so secret lovers, hyunju and yn find each other in the unlikely of places.

⤑ series masterlist, on the run.

⤑ chapter two, coming soon!

⤑ notes, hi welcome to my first fic on here! i haven’t written anything in years but i couldn’t not write something for my girl bcos she deserves all the love. anyways enjoy, i hope it isn’t too bad!! 🫶🏻

⤑ taglist, @etta-huracan (if you would like to be added let me know)

The day seemed to pass slowly. You spent most of it watching the hours tick by. Midnight at Hangang Bridge the robotic voice had said when calling the unknown number two days ago, a number from a card you'd received from a well dressed man in Sinchon station. Your face was still slightly bruised from that interaction, you had never been the best at playing ddakji. It was 30 minutes until 12 and you knew if you didn't leave now, you wouldn't make it on time. As risky as it was you weren't missing out on the opportunity to potentially win life changing money.

You unplugged your phone from the charger and switched off the broken lamp that did nothing to light your room. The apartment was small, all contained in one room minus the bathroom but it was the best you could get with what you have. You slipped on your shoes, eyes scanning the place one last time and eventually landing on the fridge. The note she had left was still there, her messy handwriting followed by little hearts in the corner, you could picture her folded over the kitchen island, a little smile on her face as she doodled her love onto the page. You missed her more than anything.

You quickly pulled yourself together closing the door behind you. A noise to the left startled you, keys almost falling from your hands. The sweet lady who owned the building with her son was hiding herself from view of the streets, the curtains slightly moving from the wind. "Hi, Ajumma" You called.

She turned with a smile on her face, backing away from the window. "Oh hello Y/N love" She replied. 

"Are you okay?" You questioned. It wasn't like her to be roaming around the halls so late in the night especially at her age.

"I don't want to worry you" She said hesitantly. You froze, mind instantly going to Hyunju. Did she finally come by? "Those same men where outside again, no good for nothing they are" She seethed.

Your heart sank. "Oh"

"I've been keeping an eye on them just in case but looks like they're gone now" She said, walking alongside you towards the exit. "You're leaving late? Everything okay?" She asked.

You nodded. "Going to visit a friend for a while, i'll be back in time for rent payments" You assured her, the last thing you needed was to be evicted.

She patted your shoulder affectionately. "Don't worry about that, you go have a nice time" She smiled. "You deserve it"

You paused for a second, words caught in your throat. "If-" You started. "If you see Hyunju can you tell her i'll be back soon? Tell her not to go anywhere, please" You practically begged. It would be just your luck, the moment you leave she would appear again.

Her eyes softened, a look of sympathy flashed across her face. She nodded, caressing your shoulder again. "Of course I will sweetheart. You still haven't heard from her?" She questioned.

You shook your head. It had been 30 days, an entire month since you last seen the one good thing in your life. You were left with a text message, one you'd read more times than you could count, one you could recite by heart if asked. She was leaving but she'd be back soon. At first you were angry, how dare she leave you after everything you'd been through together, with just a message through a screen. Then the days turned to weeks and your anger became worry. Where was she? Why wasn't she returning your calls or texts? You didn't want to expect the worst but in the country you lived as the people you both are, being alone wasn't a good idea. You lost sleep, your headaches not that you thought they could, somehow became worse. Your medication bottles became empty and your pockets just the same. You only hope she'll be back by the time you return and this time you'll have a bank balance enough to get you out of this place.

You finally left the building when another resident entered, distracting the older woman and making your exit, but of course not forgetting to say goodbye. The rain was heavy, bouncing against the cracked pavements. The silence is eerie. The broken street lamps flicker casting shadows on the wet pavements, your jacket doesn't have a hood leaving your hair to get drenched by the midnight drizzle. You scan the roads, no cars or people in sight. An overwhelming feeling of anxiety washes over you, a familiar sensation that mostly greets you in the night.

You don't have time to dwell on it as a beam of headlights approach you. A silver car pulls up beside you, the passenger side window rolls down. You're taken back at the person sat in the driver seat, face concealed by a black mask. They're also wearing a pink suit, their entire body hidden.

"Name?" The masked person questions.

"Y/N L/N" You reply, droplets of rain falling against your open lips.

They don't reply instead the back door clicks open. You quickly slide into the empty seat shielding yourself from the rain. You push the wet hair from your eyes only then noticing other people sat in the seats around you, seemingly asleep.

"Uh, excuse me?" You ask the masked driver. "What's-" You stop mid sentence, suddenly it becomes harder to breathe and a mysterious mist fogs your eyesight. You struggle to move your mouth, your entire body feels heavy. You feel the jolt of the car starting again and before you know it you're being sent into a slumber completely unaware of the hell that awaits you.

[befallenstars-archive]

This'll be the first time that I read one of your works, Ze! Hope you don't mind me yapping. It's recently become a small routine/habit of mine🫂

Spoilers and lots of yapping under the cut!

I wanna start off with the tags. My reaction was pretty normal until I read the "(ajax licks) blood and tears". Was I deterred? No, I was invested. Oh, my...all enemies and no lovers??? Tension only??? I just know this'll be good.

Brb, I'll listen to the song first...

Huh, I'd definitely trust your music taste.

The snow falls thick and fast, yet the village continues to burn. Screams and shouts of villagers, mixed with the clashing of metal, rise above the roar of devouring flames of blue.

Okay! We're diving straight into this. Love that actually.

Those who fail to meet the fae’s standards are left alone, shivering and watching in the cold. 

I GOT GOOSEBUMPS.

The way you write scratches my brain just right. Even better that your style of writing genuinely matches the overall dark vibe you're going for. I can literally feel it in my bones.

Gently grabbing your shoulders before shaking you bc I fell in love at first work with your writing. I need to read more of your works, Ze! Omg, why did it take so long before my dash gifted me with it? I should've looked for it myself!

Sorry, just not-so casually a sucker for your writing style.

It is the most luxurious piece of clothing you own; a beautiful dark green cloth lined with fur, decorated by unfinished hand-embroidered leaves and flowers and bunnies—a project you’ve been chipping away at this winter.

I already noticed this with the way you described the horses but there's truly just something about the way you do it. Like I can oh so easily imagine whatever it is you are narrating

I LOVE THE TINY DETAILS

Snowflakes continue to fall, decorating your hair and eyelashes with diamonds, while the shoulders of your cloak become dusted in sugar. 

Is it bad to say that I wanna eat your fics? (affectionately(?))

The snow dances around you and you can’t help but indulge in a spin, cloak sweeping out around you in a swirl of deep green. Your huff of laughter is stolen by the wind, but the delight within you remains.

I think I fell in love—

You have a writing style that gives me fairy tale kind of vibes. Even if it's dark. It would be so fun reading this out loud with theatrics and some drama.

In my head? I'm doing just that. It is so good.

...

All of this is so good that I can't pick one line and yap about.

You know he is fae right away by his unnatural beauty. His hair glimmers a coppery orange under the light of the full moon, all windswept and dusted in snow. His eyes seem to glow as they scan you from head to toe, a blue just a shade darker than that of the flames destroying the village. Ears taper into a fine point and from his left one dangles a deep red crystal that only makes you think of blood. He smiles, then, as you observe him. His canines are sharp and long, like that of a fox, and you are frozen with wide, shining eyes of a bunny.

GODS

WHAT I WOULDN'T GIVE TO HAVE THE ABILITY TO WRITE A SCENE THE WAY YOU DO—

IT'S JUST SO???? I CANT EVEN DO JUSTICE TO DESCRIBE IT. I SINCERELY APOLOGIZE.

You don’t think he’s talking solely about the snow. 

I am so deeply immersed in this fic that I physically swallowed when I read this.

He laughs, throwing his head back as the sound erupts from his throat. “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his breath beading in the winter air.

...For the love of— I have thoughts but I shan’t say them out loud for propriety's sake.

He had not intended to take you back to the fae realm, but then you had to go and run.

THAT WAS FOUL

“Ouch,” the fae calls after you. His voice is loud and clear, and you know he’s only getting closer. “Don’t hurt yourself too much trying to escape, okay?”

🙂💢

I dunno, there was something about this that just got on my nerves.

...

It was not in 2025 bingo card to find myself having a tiny crush on this man AGAIN.

What in the sadomasochism...

Nope. No. Bye—

“Are you done?” he asks, amusement coloring his tone. “If not, I can do this all night.”

I just want to be slightly violent. Just a bit.

...and you realize you are at this fae’s mercy, pinned like a prized butterfly in a collection; all pretty and helpless, on display for him to study.

Mnh...yes...I am...slightly dysfunctional.

Sitting in my chair with my back slightly hunched and a hand over my lips as I question myself.

“Try that again, I dare you.” His voice is rough and yet it doesn’t sound like a threat.

......................

Zipping my mouth closed.

...the sensation of your nails digging into his abdomen is not one he’ll forget anytime soon.

What if I actually lose it?

Mnh? Ze? Will you take accountability?!

He tastes the lie and grins. “That’s not true now, is it?”

Okay, I am brought by to sanity by the genuine question of what the hell does a lie taste like?

Ajax is enchanted. Has he ever seen a human so beautiful?

And I am back to the edge of my sanity. Lovely.

His groan of delight is overlapped by your whimper, the cut on your cheek stinging as fear flows through your veins.

...slamming my head on the table right now.

What— no, I?? This is...am I really? No...what? Hahaha. That's not...maybe?

Ajax grins, taking in the vision before him. “You’re perfect.”

I'm going insane.

Okay, the note was really cute tho??? I'm sorry but I imagine it in a chibi kind of style where Targtaglia's standing by the door while reader collects their stuff. Maybe doggo will betray the reader by being nice to Tartraglia, who absolutely eats it up when the reader glares at both him and the dog.

EASY ON THE EYES, EASIER TO HATE. tartaglia x reader ✧ 2.7k words

when the fae raid your village to take humans into their realm, you think you’ll be safe in the woods. but you run into a fae who introduces himself as tartaglia and realize it might have been safer for you to stay at home.

tags and warnings ✧  fae!tartaglia, gender neutral reader (no pronouns used), reader sews and tailors clothes for a living, the fae are pretty brutal, mentions of violence, (ajax licks) blood and tears, chasing (predator prey dynamic), manhandling, all enemies and no lovers (only tension oops). note ✧ this is a darker fic compared to most of my writing; please let me know if I need to tag anything else! title inspired by the song "psycho" by taylor acorn. a gift for @cruel-hiraeth for teahouse's secret santa! happy new year, kae! i hope this fic helps you start off the year right by loving hating tartaglia >u< this was lots of fun to write hehe and got a little long because the au ran away from me... i hope you enjoy! love you lots <3

The snow falls thick and fast, yet the village continues to burn. Screams and shouts of villagers, mixed with the clashing of metal, rise above the roar of devouring flames of blue.

The fae are here.

They pull people out of their beds, pushing them into the streets. Turn their faces toward the light of a burning house—looking for the beautiful humans, still young and nimble. Or searching for evidence of skill in the arts; a pretty face matters little if one can produce beautiful things in ways that the fae cannot. Those who fail to meet the fae’s standards are left alone, shivering and watching in the cold. 

The humans the fae deem acceptable meet a much worse fate. They are picked up and thrown in the back of carts, drawn by horses with ears too long and manes too wild, their coats unusually glossy and vibrant. The chosen who try to escape are bound with rope that cruelly digs into skin. Those who try to fight are taken down brutally, then laughed at as they writhe on the ground—though the fae make sure no permanent damage is done, for that would defeat the purpose of the raid.

A fae bearing a torch of blue flames brings it up to the walls of each house of those who have been chosen. The blue catches on the wood unnaturally quickly, spreading with a voracious hunger despite the wind and snow. Within the hour, nothing will remain besides a pile of ash. 

But by then, the fae and the chosen villagers will be long gone.

You are lucky that sleep is so elusive tonight.

Earlier, after tossing and turning in bed for ages, you give up on trying to fall asleep. It is hard to leave your dog who has curled up beside you in a ball of white fluff, but you press a kiss between her ears before changing into some warmer layers. You sweep a thick winter cloak over your shoulders. It is the most luxurious piece of clothing you own; a beautiful dark green cloth lined with fur, decorated by unfinished hand-embroidered leaves and flowers and bunnies—a project you’ve been chipping away at this winter. Putting on boots that have long since been molded to the shape of your feet, you leave your house to catch some fresh air and possibly tire yourself out along the way.

The blanket of pure white is beautiful. The full moon makes everything glitter as snow stretches from the outskirts of the village into the forests beyond. Snowflakes continue to fall, decorating your hair and eyelashes with diamonds, while the shoulders of your cloak become dusted in sugar. 

It is so quiet out here. The whistling of the wind and the thoughts in your head are the only sounds you hear. You are used to this, though. Every day you sew and tailor clothes in the back of the village’s clothing store, often alone for hours on end with nothing but your thoughts for company.

A strong gust of wind rocks you on your feet. Clutching your cloak tighter and tossing the fur-lined hood up over your head, you turn your back on the forest to face the trail of footsteps you’ve made through the snow. You should head home.

Still, you take your time approaching the village. The snow dances around you and you can’t help but indulge in a spin, cloak sweeping out around you in a swirl of deep green. Your huff of laughter is stolen by the wind, but the delight within you remains.

Then the first scream rips through the night.

You freeze. Scanning the houses on the outskirts of the village reveals no dangers.

Another cry follows the first and you know something must be terribly wrong. 

You start running toward the village, kicking up snow as your mind races. Perhaps someone is getting robbed—but no one in town would dare. Or based on the growing amount of cries and shouts, maybe something happened that has injured a lot of people. A fire?

As you make it to the buildings, you see that you are right. Fire engulfs one of the homes on the far side of town, the flames reaching for the sky. A shudder runs through you at the sight, for the flames are unnaturally blue, and though this is the first time you’ve seen such a thing, you have heard of the stories and warnings about the cyan fire and those that accompany it.

You will not let the fae take you.

Whirling around, you sprint for the woods. The screams of the other villagers ring in your ears, but you know it is impossible for you to take on a single fae, let alone an army of them. They are here to steal humans away. For what, you’re not sure, but it can’t be for anything good. Though you doubt they would choose to take you, the best way to make sure you can see the sunrise tomorrow is to hide in the woods and avoid them all.

Reaching the treeline seems to take ages. You keep looking over your shoulder as you run, half expecting to have been spotted, but you only see more and more flames of blue burning houses to the ground.

Your heart skips a beat at the thought of your home being set ablaze—your dog!—but then you remember the fae only burn the houses of the humans they take and relief washes over you.

With your thoughts consumed by the safety of your dog, you don’t notice that you have slowed, trying to catch your breath in the midst of the trees. Nor do you notice that you aren’t alone anymore, until the newcomer starts speaking.

“My, my. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

Dread sinks like a stone in your stomach. You spin, eyes wide as they land on the source of those playful and teasing words, leaning against a nearby tree with his arms crossed.

You know he is fae right away by his unnatural beauty. His hair glimmers a coppery orange under the light of the full moon, all windswept and dusted in snow. His eyes seem to glow as they scan you from head to toe, a blue just a shade darker than that of the flames destroying the village. Ears taper into a fine point and from his left one dangles a deep red crystal that only makes you think of blood. He smiles, then, as you observe him. His canines are sharp and long, like that of a fox, and you are frozen with wide, shining eyes of a bunny.

He hums and tilts his head. It is then that you remember he asked a question, and your throat works to find your voice to answer him. “I was out for a stroll,” you manage to say, words somehow steady despite your fluttering pulse.

It’s a half-truth, but half-truths are half-lies, and there’s the slightest hint of bitterness in the back of Ajax’s throat that always accompanies humans’ lies. “Oh, really? And was that before or after we made our presence known?”

“Before, actually,” you tell him honestly. “I couldn’t sleep so I decided to take a walk. The snow is beautiful and the moon is bright—it’s pretty, is it not?” If you talk enough, maybe he’ll lose interest so you can make a run for it. You don’t know much about fae, but with the way he’s dressed in nicer clothing than what most men in your village wear, surely he won’t care for running through the snowy forest.

He smiles. “It is pretty.” His eyes refuse to leave your frame, and a shiver runs through you. You don’t think he’s talking solely about the snow. 

Pushing off the tree, he takes a few steps forward, nearly silent despite the boots he wears. He stops when you stiffen, clutching your cloak tighter in your hands. “Where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Tartaglia,” he says, picking one of his many names to give you. “And you are?”

You press your lips together and force a smile. Even you know not to give the fae your name, no matter how much of a gentleman he is pretending to be. Your stomach rolls, unease making your heart rate pick up again. “I’m-” You see the way he perks up in interest, expecting a name. “I’m leaving,” you spit out, turn on your heels, and run.

Ajax watches you leave, the green of your cloak billowing out behind you like a rabbit’s tail inviting him to chase. He laughs, throwing his head back as the sound erupts from his throat. “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his breath beading in the winter air.

He had not intended to take you back to the fae realm, but then you had to go and run. And he wouldn’t dare to let all your hard work go to waste—so he’ll participate in the delightful hunt you’ve set up for him.

The ground is uneven beneath your feet. It is hard to tell where the tree roots are under the thick layer of snow and each breath of air feels like tiny needles stabbing your lungs. But you push on, feet pounding as quickly as you can force yourself to go.

You want to be as far away from that fae as you can get. He had not looked like he was going to chase you when you last saw him, laughing as you ran away, but there was a look in his eyes that pushed you to keep running.

When you toss a quick glance over your shoulder, your breath hitches and terror rushes through you.

He’s there. In the distance, but you can see him, weaving through the trees at an inhuman pace, his long legs carrying him far. He is gaining on you and you fear what he will do when he catches you.

You push yourself to run even harder, but your legs burn and your throat feels tight. In your haste, you fail to see the lower hanging branches of a nearby tree. A cry tears from your lips as a thin branch slices through the skin of your cheek, but you barely feel the pain with your face nearly frozen from the cold.

“Ouch,” the fae calls after you. His voice is loud and clear, and you know he’s only getting closer. “Don’t hurt yourself too much trying to escape, okay?”

Through your huffs for air, you manage to shout back at him. “Piss off! Leave me alone!”

Ajax grins, closing the distance. “I don’t think I will,” he says.

He lunges forward and grabs a fistful of your cloak. You stumble from the pull, tripping over your feet. He uses the momentum to spin you around, pushing you backward until you hit a tree, forcing the air from your lungs. His body presses against yours right after, caging you in with one leg wedged between your own.

“Let go of me!” you shout, slamming your fists into his chest. You try shoving all of your weight into him but he simply presses back harder until his chest is flush against yours. 

He laughs—laughs!—as you struggle against him, kicking and yelling and throwing your weight from side to side. He does not budge at all under the onslaught. You do everything you can, but only wear yourself out, leaning back against the tree to catch your breath.

“Are you done?” he asks, amusement coloring his tone. “If not, I can do this all night.”

His reaction makes your blood boil, most of your fear buried beneath anger. You glare down past his arm that still grips your cloak and catch sight of a sliver of pale skin peeking through the folds of his clothes. Moving your gaze back up to his face, you spit out, “I hope you die.”

And then you dig your nails into the exposed skin of his stomach, sink your teeth into the arm holding onto your cloak, and shove with all your might.

Ajax stumbles backward. 

You rip yourself out of his hold, twist your body to the side, taking one step forward, free-

Arms wrap around your waist and throw you back toward the tree. Your feet catch on his boot, making you lose your balance, perfect for Ajax to maneuver your body as he wills. This time, he pins your hands above your head, one large hand grasping your wrists, while his other arm presses as an immovable bar across your collarbones. One leg forces its way between your own, and you realize you are at this fae’s mercy, pinned like a prized butterfly in a collection; all pretty and helpless, on display for him to study.

You look down. You don’t want to see the anger on his face before he retaliates for your actions.

The arm across your chest shifts and you flinch as gloved fingers grab your chin, firm but not painful as he tilts your head, forcing you to look at him. You’re taken aback by the grin on his face, canines bared and bloodthirsty, but his eyes are amused.

“Try that again, I dare you.” His voice is rough and yet it doesn’t sound like a threat.

Your eyes grow wide. This kind of a creature is not one you will be able to escape, at least not now—unarmed except for your teeth and nails.

Ajax lets go of your chin, pulling back slightly. He’s delighted by the fire within you. When he first saw you, running toward the woods, he simply thought you a pretty coward. But oh you dared to fight back, using what little defenses humans naturally have, and you even broke skin. Though his fae blood allows him to rapidly heal, the sensation of your nails digging into his abdomen is not one he’ll forget anytime soon.

As he looks away from your face to take you all in, now that you’re not struggling to escape, his gaze catches on your cloak. His eyes light up, tracing over the exquisitely stitched leaves and plants of various green threads, mixed occasionally with lively bunnies of soft browns. There’s a rabbit still unfinished, just a cute head and perked ears, awaiting its body to bring it to life. 

“Did you make this?” Ajax asks, thumb brushing over the embroidery.

“No,” you gasp, heart sinking.

He tastes the lie and grins. “That’s not true now, is it?”

It’s over. Now that he knows you are skilled at sewing, he has all the reasons he needs to bring you into his realm. Despair is a heavy weight, mixed with frustration and anger. Tears well in your eyes and slide down the curves of your face. A few droplets spread into the cut on your left cheek, mixing with the beading blood that stains your skin.

Ajax is enchanted. Has he ever seen a human so beautiful?

He can’t stop himself from leaning in even closer until his nose nearly presses against your ear. There’s a moment where you hear him inhale. Then his tongue swipes up your cheek, lapping up tears and blood. His groan of delight is overlapped by your whimper, the cut on your cheek stinging as fear flows through your veins.

His fingers grip your chin again and he turns your head to the other side. Warmth travels up your cheek as he licks your tears, before pulling away with a satisfied smirk on his lips.

As you gasp for breath, he takes in the sight of more tears streaming down your face, shed in mourning for the loss of your life in the human world. Shudders run through you until your tears slow, giving time for your heart to harden. Slowly, you open your eyes to meet his gaze, yours now blazing with fury and hatred.

Ajax grins, taking in the vision before him. “You’re perfect.”

note ✧ ajax makes you point out your home and he gets to dig through your stuff as you collect a few things to take with you. don't worry, doggo gets to come with and is treated very well (fae like animals more than humans, usually).

this is not quite the type of thing i usually write, but i hope it was still an enjoyable read! i'd love to hear what you think c:

[unluckilyimnot]

Habits bllk boy

Characters: sae, rin, chigiri, reo, nagi, otoya, isagi, kaiser

Fluff / no tw / 900+

Note: I'd like to know what you like me doing the most, hc, os (long or short), one character or even multi fandom? I'm curious!

m.list | rules

Sae - doing his skin care with you

If you don't have a skin care routine, then now you do. He's really serious about this, and you probably get tired of getting side eyes all the time. It's nothing much yet it makes him feel good, sharing simple moments like those is precious to him with his busy life. That's how he prefers his night to start, whenever with music – yours or his – or without ; he's just next to you, watching you putting product after product on your skin and there's almost the shadow of a smile on his lips. Bonus points to the night where you two sit in front of a series or a movie with sheet masks on and snacks next to you.

Rin - listening to your music with you

He could easily put his headphones on while you put your music on while getting ready or doing your makeup – if you do wear some – but he actually likes knowing what you're listening to. It's kind of intimate to him, he likes to share his music with you as much as he likes knowing what you like. He even has a playlist composed only with music from yours and he wishes you never found out (you already did). Along with that, he's obviously the type to make you a playlist when he feels like it or when he misses you.

Isagi - checks on you

He's a little anxious about everything, nothing crazy but I feel like he's the tense one before traveling you see ? Well because of that, Isagi will always make sure you're at ease, feeling good, stay hydrated, and put sunscreen on. You almost fell ? He grabbed your arm and then never let your hand go. He's always asking you if you're good, probably over a hundred times a day. He just wants you to be safe. He's extra caring and comprehensive when you're tired or overstimulated and you end up annoying or cold. He doesn't mind much, he just wants to make it easier for you.

Otoya - have a hair tie just in case you need it

The second your hair is long enough to be tied, he has one around his wrist. He knows you have one too, but he also knows that you share yours a lot and don't always get it back so he's there for that. The second he notices that your hair is bothering you, he doesn't hesitate to put it behind your ear or tie it for you. He loves the texture of your hair between/against his fingers, and the scent when it just got washed. He generally really loves your hair, so he's always here to hand you a hair tie.

Kaiser - leans his hand next to yours

He's not gonna take your hand just like that, no matter how people think he will, I'm sure he won't because he prefers when you're the one who catches his hand. It makes him feel wanted, needed and Gods know it wasn't always the case with closed ones. Letting it lands oh so close to yours, just so your picky are touching in a feather like manners, yet he doesn't move any more closer to your hand, patiently waiting for you to break and hold his hand, winning a so prideful smirk as he look at you with a look you know too well.

Nagi - lean on you when he's tired

You can be laying in bed, up pouring yourself a drink ans looking for snacks – anywhere in the house, Nagi will find you and lean onto your shoulders as if he was the small one in the relationship. You might think he's cute, he is, but he always make sur to put half his weight on you, crashing you behind him so you HAVE to go to bed so you don't die because of it. He does it outside as well but it's less harming. He simply leans in his head on your shoulder, wraps his arms around your waist if you're up and whines because he's tired and wants to go home. People find it endearing a lot – let alone when you shuffle his perfect white hair with a soft smile, telling him you'll be leaving soon.

Reo - get you something to drink

You're busy, he knows that better than anyone else, and if you're not he'd rather have you resting so it's his duty to take care of you. It doesn't matter if he has to order it in a coffee shop or to make one himself for you while you're at his place or his staying at yours, he'll make you something hot to drink before you can even think about how you need it. He'll get a tea pot ready for you, already sweetened if that's how you take it – same for coffee. He'll be kind but demanding toward anyone making your drink, making sure it's done well but will always leave a huge tip because that's what you'll do.

Chigiri - wash your hair for you

Chigiri likes his privacy but less when it comes to you, so it doesn't happen all the time but you two regularly take shower/bath together. That's when he started to wash your hair for you. That way he can take care of it and treat it nicely because he knows you don't always have the energy to do so. You'll always have a nice scalp massage that makes you mmh in satisfaction and he's always gonna laugh at it a little. But he loves it a lot because he gets to see you relax under his fingers after a long day and that's enough for him.

Let me know if you liked it !

[beevean]

An idea that won't leave my head is that Lydie is an excitable tomboy.

Think about it. Lydie, who in appearance is a frilly delicate girl, has two boys as her best friends. Two rough warrior boys, at that. How did she become part of the group? Surely she does more than just sitting demurely as they spar?

I like to think that Lydie is actually kind of reckless and likes to play dangerous games. She's the kind of girl that would ruin her skirt climbing up trees or jumping on stones to cross a river. She causes a lot of headaches for her family, who want her to act proper, and this may be why she loves to spend time with her friends, who don't care if she is improper because they just like her as she is. I don't think she is that big of a rebel, because she still looks like someone who takes care of her appearance (the hair alone requires careful styling), so she might play coy with her family and be on her best behavior... until tempted by her besties.

Generally speaking, if I were to write Lydie, I think I'd move away from the "gentle" archetype and make her a ball of energy lol. The kind of person who is constantly fidgeting, bouncing on her feet and clapping her hands because she just can't wait to spend more time with her favorite people in the world!

I could also take this artwork as proof that she likes nature and animals. She doesn't have the innate talents of a witch or a Devil Forgemaster, sadly lol. She just tries her best even if she gets her fingers picked at or bitten.

Also, we know that after Simon's victory, the Belmonts became heroes of the land, and a whole village was built around them. Juste, most likely, didn't grow up shunned for his bloodline. But! He was still born different. Frail, pale, and with strange magic potential. While discrimination due to magic is not as intense at this point in time as it was in centuries past, it's possible Juste was surrounded by rumors, perhaps even doubted as a worthy successor of his grandfather. You know, for that nice family legacy stuff :)

The point is, I think Lydie never cared. Along with Maxim, who gets to experience for himself how strong and driven Juste is, Lydie might have been the first person to not treat Juste like the latest Belmont with all that comes with it, but as a boy worth of befriending. Lydie got to know Juste's various quirks, like his stubborness, or his fastidiousness when it comes to fashion and decor (I bet they joked that she could learn from him lol), and decided he was funny and that's how a friendship started.

Oh, and the wiki suggests that her surname hints at her ethnicity being Transylvanian Saxon or Banat Swabian. I think it's pretty cool and it could influence her in some way.

I need to think of more quirks to give to her. But I really would like to flesh her out a bit because she has potential to be interesting :>

[majoryeager104]

Crush! Part 1 | Part 2

the x reader I mentioned at the end of this post!

I’m sorry this is so late Ik I said I’d write it same day and I DID but couldn’t finish it bc I was wracking my brain last second and my phone still has a screen time limit 💀💀💀 so then I was gonna finish and drop it last night, but then my dad went on a FOUR HOUR TANGENT ABOUT HISTORY. 😀😀😀 so once again I’m so sorry but

anywhoooo enjoy!

warnings:, pure fluff

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It was an average day of sulking around the league hideout. Shigaraki, Twice, and Dabi were the ones currently present, and you were off on a job with Toga. Dabi had watched as you left, and decided not to disappear too until you got back. Maybe he was worried, or maybe he was keeping tabs on everyone. Even Shigaraki wasn’t entirely sure.

Anyways, the lot of them were chatting, with Dabi remaining quiet most of the time, at least until you were brought up. “Y/n’s been a great help since joining us!” Twice chirped, and Shigaraki quietly agreed. This caused Dabi to scoff. “Y/n can barely work alone, let alone be useful.” And that was when Twice got to work defending you.

“hey!! Y/n is a very hard worker!- you’re just jealous aren’t you- You know, I bet y/n would have loved to work with you on this mission! She likes you- she despises you SHUT UP”

Twice continued to argue with himself, and the other two went quiet, at least until Shigaraki turned to look at Dabi with a mischievous grin. Dabi bristled, stepping back. “Yeah whatever.” He snapped, turning on his heels and quickly leaving the room.

Maybe he was overreacting, maybe he was merely confused, but unlike everything else this team had thrown at him, he hadn’t expected this. You? Liked him? He scoffed at the thought as he walked down the street. Why was this such a bother to him? Why was he blushing so much? This was stupid. So stupid. You were stupid. Stupid for liking him, stupid for telling twice of all people- at least if you’d come and admit it to him yourself, Dabi could have let you down gently, he’s not a complete monster- but now he felt like he had no options to do so, and he wasn’t sure why.

So as he was walking down the street away from the hideout, and spotted you and Toga walking happily together through the crowds, he felt like he had no other option than to turn on his heels once again and go down the alley to his left, taking a detour because how the hell was he supposed to face you knowing you had feelings? It was embarrassing, and illogical, and the very thought was like a big nuisance pent up in his brain, he couldn’t stand it.

So, he lay low for a while, walking along the streets as it got later and later in the evening. He’d received messages from the league, asking for updates on where he’d gone, hell, he got one from you. Usually he appreciated your check ins- you were always so kind to him even over text- but now, your kind words felt nothing but heavy.

But wait.

he could use this, couldn’t he?

I know I mentioned he ‘wasn’t a complete monster’ earlier, and he’s not….but he is a bit of a menace. he could leverage your feelings, use that affection to achieve a few goals of his. Maybe it was terrible, sure, but it was the only way he knew of to push away the weird feelings he got just thinking about the idea of you liking him. It was becoming nauseating.

So, he walked back to the hideout, opening the door to the usual loud chatter of the group. Now he was noticing the way your head spun around to see him first, the way your eyes lit up and you smiled. Oh god, this was gonna be harder than he thought. But he straightened his jacket, and smirked in return, because it was worth a try, right?

and so you approached him, hoping for some small talk, which is when he realized that Twice hadn’t mentioned his little slip. Of course. So, he figured the best way to go about this, was to flirt.

Over the next ten minutes, he tried it, and came to understand that this wasn’t the greatest idea either. Between him leaning in way too close, smirking like an idiot to the point he was so embarrassed he resorted to fidgeting, and him seeing your raised brow and utterly confused and unaffected expression, it was clear that he had no chance of winning. It got to a point where you’d ended the conversation and walked away with a puzzled expression while he watched, his playful smirk disappearing, as well as the good mood he’d put himself in. He stared at the floor for another five minutes (real bro) before walking to his room, inevitably giving up.

It wasn’t until later, when you two had a job together, that he realized his ‘ideas’ were just big dumb mistakes. He’d dropped the flirtations and basically pushed the thought of your feelings to the back of his mind, hoping at this point that Twice hadn’t been serious. You got the job done, and he burned the place down. The two of you watched the fire quietly, and as he glanced back at you- to check for injuries if anything, he thought- and found you’d already been looking at him. Your eyes darted away and back to the burning building, a blush creeping across your face. You looked…adorable.

His eyes widened at the thought, but instead of thinking anything of it, he just chuckled at your expression, stepping a bit closer. No flirtations, no confusion, it was just you, and Dabi.

”you know…twice told me something real interesting earlier”

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part 2 coming soon bc I wanted to drop this at a reasonable time and didn’t finish😗😗😗

[whenthedeeppurplefalls]

Breathe- a LTWW fic

Inspired by @artmolonara ‘s post

It was funny, the little things they noticed after Wenda’s death.

The way they had no detergent to do the laundry once it had run out- she had done the majority of the shopping while they worked.

The way the rooms felt just a tad bit colder, lacking that additional bit of human connection to warm the space.

How big their bed was, without her in it.

But what they noticed the most, was how bare their soul felt with her absence.

They had never been prone to anxiety before- at least, not when wenda had been by their side. (All memories of life before getting together were, of course, a distant memory, fuzzy and dreamlike.)

But now. Now it plagued them like a persistent cough, lingering lovingly instead their chest, burning and itching with each inhale.

It was the red that did it. The horrible redness. It had been over two weeks since they’d last shaved. Finally, aware that they resembled a grizzly coming out of hibernation, they’d elected to do it right there at the sink. At first, the process had been smooth-going, until they hit a rough patch, and the razor slipped.

It wasn’t the pain that froze their heart. It wasn’t even the blood itself. Just the red. Oh, so much red. Red like the walls and the floor where they’d found her, red like the trail leading up and down the stairs to the baby’s room, red like the footprints leading out the back door (left there to mock them, they didn’t need to walk out to escape the detective KNEW THAT-)

Their hands were shaking as they fumbled, dropped the razor. They stumbled back, hitting the wall like a car crash, an exhale forced out of them as they sank to the floor, their breaths now leaving them in a series of panicking whimpers.

In times like these, Wenda would have been here. She would have helped them- held them as they cried, consoled them when they spoke. But now they were all alone.

Or so they had thought. The bathroom door creaked. Too absorbed by the haze of panic, they barely lifted their head to acknowledge it.

A low whistle, as if impressed. They would have scoffed, if not distracted by the sheer adrenaline, pure animal fear coursing through their body, filling them with liquid panic- the sense that they were hunted, tormented, that they were the prey caught in the trap of a much larger beast.

“This is a new look for you.”

They knew that voice, damnit. Their teeth clenched, even as their breaths punched and wheezed out of them, constricted and labored. They drew their arms tighter around themselves, as if it would protect them.

“…Detective?” More footsteps. He’d brought the others. Of course he had. It was almost enough to make them laugh.

Almost.

Their heartbeat was raging against their skin, a frantic and desperate drumbeat, refusing to allow them a moment of peace. They felt trapped in it.

“Detective… detective, are you alright?”

And no, of course they weren’t, but they couldn’t exactly say so, could they? Moreover, did he expect them to?

They registered one of the striped monsters kneeling in front of them. It was all they could register, primarily from the bright colors.

A hand reached out, laid on top of their shoulder. It sent a shock throughout their system, just enough of a disruption to fray the thread of panic.

“It’s alright, detective. We’re here now.” Then, they were held, long arms wrapping around them, but not boxing them in- more securing them. It wasn’t long until the others joined them, til the detective was totally held and embraced. Like a weighted blanket on all sides.

Their pulse slowed. Ever so slightly.

“Easy, now.”

Their head nodded a little. One of the Waldo’s was petting their hair.

“Breathe. Just breathe. In, then out.” And given a guide, they breathed alongside the rhythm set by the ones who held them. It became easier. More soothing.

There were five of them to focus on. Five different senses… five things they saw, five things they felt, five things they heard… five hearts beating in sync with their own… as their own gradually slowed, calmed, soothed, finally relaxed from its deadly pace. Their shoulders slumped in exhaustion. The rest of them soon followed.

“That’s it…” a pair of hands cupped their face, tilting their head up a little. Dizzily, they looked into the face of one of the Waldo’s.

“Hmm,” he said. “You’re hurt.” A thumb trailed over the wound, and the detective hissed reflexively, the pain only just now occurring to them.

“Apologies.” Soothed the Waldo that held their face. “I can fix that, I assure you.” From somewhere (inconsequential, really.) he produced a bandage.

“Lift your head for me, dear.” And mindless from the exhaustion the panic attack had brought on, the detective obeyed. There was another brief sting as something cold and wet dabbed at the residual blood, then a soothing sensation of the bandage being spread over. Waldo patted their head.

“There you are, dear.”

The detective looked down at their hands, fully expecting to see the horrible red all over again-

But their gaze was redirected by one of the Waldo’s taking hold of both their hands and squeezing them comfortingly.

“That’s enough of that.” He soothed. “I think for now… you should lay down. Later, we’ll bring you food… and we won’t even kill anyone today. Sound fair?”

It was too much to expect the detective to formulate a response, so they simply nodded instead, uncaring as they were lifted gently, by caring arms.

“That’s it. Just relax for now. We’ll take care of things.”

[lovebunnie]

it started with the rain.

it had only been a few months since their tentative partnership had begun, but viktor was beginning to recognize patterns in how jayce operated in the space. he tended to get straight to work once he entered the lab, locking into equations from the night before with nothing more than a morning greeting towards viktor. he assumes that this is a symptom of working alone for most of his life, but viktor still smiles all the same when jayce finally tears himself back an hour into the day with his questions about viktors night and plans.

he also recognized the way jayce would tap his pencil nervously against the desk when storms rolled by occasionally; the cracking of lighting would halt the motions, jayce counting under his breath until the accompanying thunder let him relax.

“these storms are quite ferocious today,” viktor mused one day.

jayce was quiet, eventually mumbling, “i can’t think when it’s like this, the constant noise drowns out so much of my thinking process.” he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “i never liked the rain anyway, who likes when its cold and wet outside? ruins your shoes, keeps you damp for hours…”

he trailed off, before seemingly realizing he was going off on a tangent. viktor watched as a pleasant blush crossed his cheeks.

“i agree, the rain is a menace to my joints.” viktor rubbed his knee. “it makes traveling to the lab take longer. if only heimerdinger would let us bring samples back to our dorms…”

and with that, the conversation shifted and viktor watched jayce relax his shoulders, bringing up the one time he let the fire alarm go off from an unattended beaker. jayce laughed with his entire body and viktor thought the warm of joy suited him much better.

however, it was the first snow of the season that viktor realized something was amiss.

when they both arrived at the lab, together in the midst of a heated conversation about the length of time to observe certain samples, the cold wind had bitten their cheeks and noses to leave them red. viktor set to removing his jacket slowly, plucking gloves from his hands.

“there are not enough hours in the day,” viktor said as he gently blew warm air into his palms, “for us to dedicate all that time to simple analysis. we have the calculations necessary-“

he turned, and viktor realized jayce had taken his larger winter coat off in record time, hat and gloves also removed in a frankly terrifyingly quick manner. he even had a warm mug of something in his hands.

viktor stared, and jayce looked nervous.

“sorry, i should’ve offered you some,” he said before turning back to their small hot plate.

“its fine,” viktor replied. “i wouldnt say no to a warm drink, though. my hands need a bit of reheating.”

suddenly, jayce moved closer to viktor, cup sloshing its contents off the side in a rush of movement. in an instant, jayce was pulling viktors hands closer to himself with a worried expression on his face, eyes pinched in something that viktor could call fear.

“do your hands hurt? i have an extra pair of gloves in my desk you can use if you needor if you want to borrow my hat. there’s also a spot in the forge you could step into for a little while-“

viktor watched as jayces hands roamed his arms, as though searching all the cold spots in his body to address and eradicate. he talked a mile a minute with solutions for something as trivial as cold hands and if he didnt look so panicked, viktor would find it endearing.

but jayce didnt appear to be coy in his movements, he did not acknowledge the closeness of the two of them or the way he was cradling viktors hands to his chest like a promise.

he looked scared. he looked haunted.

“jayce,” viktor said, breaking him out of his spiel. “what has gotten into you?”

jayce looked up and into viktors eyes before embarrassment took hold and he stepped back a hair. “oh gods viktor, im… im sorry. i shouldnt have gotten so close to you like that, and i definitely shouldn’t have grabbed your hands like that.”

“its okay jayce, i forgive you.” viktor reclaimed the space lost and slowly took jayces hand, intertwining their fingers. the closeness of jayce quickly began to chase the cold away and viktor smiled softly.

“will you tell me where this came from?” viktor asked softly, still looking at their hands.

jayce was quiet for a long period of time. viktor could almost hear himself collecting his thoughts, taking in deep breaths to center himself against rising panic. this was not a jayce that viktor had met yet: one practically shaking in pent up emotion.

finally, the words came quietly. “i grew up in and around the forge. i know exactly what shade of red the metal needs to turn before it can be molded, and i know how hot something has to get to before it leaves a mark.” viktor looked up to see jayces gaze caught on the window, to the first silent drifts of snow sticking to the glass.

“my dad used to let me study in the forge with him and id always end up with some soot on my cheek no matter how clean i tried to keep, and every now and then id get a burn so bad my mom would have to wrap it.”

jayce rubbed his thumb across the side of viktors hand, where viktor felt a slight mark of raised skin from a decades old burn.

“i know the hot weather, it helps me think, it clears my head…” jayce trailed off, shoulders hunching. “but the cold… its like slow death. the heat gives you a warning before it strikes, you cant be surprised by it. it allowed my family to make its name, it can allow us to create things, things that can help people!”

the fear finds its way into his voice. “but the cold isnt like that. its slow and it drags you down, it seeps everything from you until you cant move, it tightens your lungs and bites your insides. it… it hurts.”

viktor sees tears well up in jayces eyes as he moves to once again cradle viktors hands in his own, still sharing heat with him.

“my mother almost died in a snowstorm. she was fine one second and the next… she was just in the ground and i couldnt do anything to help her. if magic hadnt come to us at that moment and saved us…”

viktors heart beat rapidly in his chest. jayce was letting him into his mind, allowing him to know a part of himself that was clearly important and fundamental to his sense of self. it made the pieces come together, of the abundance of winter gear, how quickly he was to shed his garb to not feel like he was still in that snowstorm.

“youre important to me, viktor.” jayce looked directly into his eyes. “i dont want you to feel that kind of pain, especially if i can help it.”

jayce does not know about the rattle viktor is beginning to feel in his chest or the stiffness in his back that makes some nights sleepless. he doesnt know all the quiet hurts viktor feels, not even the ache that comes from being so close to him and unable to cross the line into new territory.

what jayce does seem to know, viktor realizes, is that what they have is special. that viktor is special.

“thank you for telling me,” he says quietly with his voice barely managing not to quiver. “and thank you for the offer for the gloves. if you wouldnt mind, id like to borrow them tonight for the walk back.”

jayce smiles softly. “of course, v. anytime.”

he moves back first, back still cinched in anxiety. viktor gives jayce the space he needs, the phantom touch of his hands leaving lingering warmth behind. viktor doesnt think he will ever feel the cold in them again.

when the weather begins to settle and the snow stops falling, jayce draws himself into his work and sets about silently working on his own ideas. viktor allows him the privacy, occasionally asking questions that get short responses. and when the day is done, jayce looks about ready to pass out from exhaustion.

“walk me to my place?” viktor asks, knowing jayce will be unable to decline.

they walk together through the streets, viktors cane bearing more weight than normal. jayce has viktors coat gripped tightly and when they arrive at his doorstep, viktor stops and turns.

he smiles at jayce. “i can make us dinner, if you’d like. i remember an old zaun recipe that my father used to make that would warm us up in the cold.”

for the first time that day, jayce releases the tension in his shoulders. he smiles, and says, “that sounds great, v.”

[my-stories-vault]

Chapter 2 ~ The Supernatural Wars.

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Y/N L/N

Blurb: When the residents of this Earth found out that they were but a draft in God's numerous stories, they decided to make noise in hopes that their creator would return. Nothing can be louder than the begs of the powerless, the cackles of the ruthless, or the unending destruction left in the wake of the most merciless wars any universe can ever see—here the bloodshed never ends. So, tell me how can two young soulmates, then, find love's shade of red under all this crimson gore?

Warnings/Trigger Warnings (18+): Language, gore, voilence, major and minor character deaths, thoughts of suicide (not graphic), substance abuse (alcohol and cigarettes), mentions of wars (I mean, it's in the name).

{ Series Masterlist ; Main Masterlist }

Chapter 2: Marriages Need Sacrifices.

Education has been an adventurous endeavor for you. Most people disagree that books can give you a great travel experience, but books have been ninety percent of your education. You are great on the field of war, don't get you wrong, but you've always gotten a secret thrill in books. Learning about alternate universes, and their alternate lives. Following different spells, symbols, lores. Most importantly, you can apply it all in real life.

No knowledge goes to waste, your father would say. It's one of the rare places where you can find positivity, wallowing in knowledge. For you, it's akin to meditation.

While on the ship, you have been a few of the first to wake up for the morning training from the very first day, the crack of dawn every day. It would be from five to eight before all of your people were shooed into the lowest deck of the Bloody Princess. It was less training than what you wanted, but at least it was something. An energetic start to your days, you believed. After which, you would spend your hours cleaning the lower levels. Rarely would you be found sitting with your soldiers who all had been given three hours of recreational time in the day.

This routine took your mind off of the politics you hadn't stopped playing since the wedding; you would still have more meetings and strategy sessions, map-reading time, and so on, but at least it wasn't all you were thinking of.

As the vampires grumpily sludged through half-assed explanations, in the few days since the crash course had begun, you had learned to stitch leaves together as sails. Different uses of wood for different parts were taught to you; here, at least you were handy with a knife when it came to shaping up the pieces for a good and sturdy structure of the ship. And ropes - oh, there were so many things to do with ropes.

You realized quickly enough that to these monsters, efficiency mattered the most - you could understand that, even come to respect it. To them, the outward appearances mattered not, nor did hygiene. While you agreed to compromise on the first one, you still tried to maintain basic sanitation for yourself and your crew.

You had also found something that you absolutely sucked at.

It was climbing.

For the love of you, you had never been able to climb trees, let alone these long structures on this large daunting ship that stood so tall that they seemed to be caressing the sky. They didn't even have a lot of handholds or footholds that you could support yourself with. They had a long rope that danced with the wind, and you would have to hold it as you pulled yourself up.

You may be the best markswoman the world has seen from this generation, but your upper body strength was a joke for a climb this challenging. Which is exactly why you spent most of your free time on the ship scaling the longest and thickest pole of the ship.

Some nights when your mind was exhausted from the long talks with your team of the select five that you had, you would sneak out to the upper deck after bedtime and squeeze in a few more rounds with the toughest mast of the ship.

Since you were falling often, you had arranged for yourself the assistance of a vampire who was so passive that it would be a miracle to get a full sentence from him. He was named Scully, a fat immortal who was as powerful as ten men. He started catching you when you fell from tall heights.

Even with that precaution, your medic, Selina got so frustrated with your harmful rendevous that she started tagging along with you to heal your hurts - but mostly to try and talk you out of it.

'If the Captain spots you, it'll be our end!'

'You've always given people far too much credit, Ms Doll,' you whispered back, trudging up the last few steps to the higher level where the mast protruded. It was the second-highest level on the ship, only second to another upper deck where the wheel of the ship stood. There was a watch tower atop this mast that you wished to see the sea from one of these days.

The view would be the most breathtaking, you had to gather.

Scully was already waiting at the bottom, he grunted when you greeted him. Selina skirted around him, still as afraid of vampires as the first day she'd seen them.

You gripped the rope in your stinging palms - your rope burns were the worst injuries from this activity besides all the blows that had been delivered to your back when you'd fallen.

Scully placed himself near you, and the proximity tensed you, but you wouldn't be as overt as Selina about it. You placed your foot horizontally on the wood, pulling yourself up. Your muscles smarted as you took one step after another, walking vertically upwards to your goal. You made sure that your steps weren't too far apart, lest they throw off your balance.

Your highest mark yet had been eight feet.

In this round, you barely touched halfway when your right shoe lost its grip. Your hands tried to cling to the rope, but your skin was irritable against the rope's hold. You were free-falling next. You had the sense to curl up and turn mid-air to your side so that it wouldn't hurt as much.

Scully's hold never came, and there was a short scream that tore from Selina. You hummed your pain behind pressed lips as the wood groaned under your weight.

You were used to this by now.

'Why didn't you catch her?!' Selina rushed to your side, but you were brushing her concerns away.

'He doesn't dignify breaking my fall unless it's from really high, Ms Doll. You know that.'

Scully shrugged in response. You'd come to understand his mind enough to know that if you fell too soon, he would think that you deserved to get hurt. You'd come to terms with it.

'Still—'

'Please. I want to try again.'

Fuming, for she knew your decision was impossible to change, she drew herself to the side.

Your rise and fall continued for a while.

By the ninth time, something new happened: your hands started bleeding. And you fell from seven feet. Scully caught you. 

'Fuck,' you muttered, your body jolting when it hit his arms.

Scully sneered at your hands, and you scrambled to get out of his hold. He was further pushed away from you by your doctor who forgot her fear of vampires for a terse minute. Selina took your hands in hers. She wore a bumbag around her waist. Small vials of medicines and gauze were in it.

'I told you!' the scold left her. 'What were you thinking—stupid, stubborn, reckless—unbelievable . . .' and so went her mumbles under her breath as she hurried to patch you up. The skin around the wound was angry and red. The antiseptic burned against the already prickling area. The cut wasn't too deep, but stinging enough that it would slow you down in a fight.

You had only glanced at your hands for a second after which your eyes had gone over Selina's shoulder to stare down Scully whose face was the most expressive you had ever seen - he looked starved, as if it had been centuries since his last meal. To your right was Selina, so you tensed your left foot in case you needed to kick down Scully.

'Why ain't I surprised that you're a rule-breaker?' came the drawl of the vampire you had come to dislike the most on the ship.

He was the only vampire on the ship who could think—you disliked that in your potential enemies. The rest of his crew was pure brawl. While he hadn't done anything personally to you, you hated his guts for the same reason he didn't trust yours—the history of generations: the Supernatural Wars.

He threw a pair of gloves your way that you grew wary of.

'Those might help,' he said. He patted Scully on the shoulder who had a vein working in his forhead, barely stopping himself from pouncing on you. Having the permission of his Captain, he scurried of, probably to the food supply.

'Captain!' said a flustered Selina. 'We're, uh—didn't mean to insult your rules. We just, um—'

'You should be more careful, it's been a while since we tasted fresh blood.' His eyes were fixed hungrily on your palms that were quickly being wrapped in the gauze. He'd ignored (or hadn't heard) Selina.

You noticed Selina stifling a panicky expression, trying to focus on her job. You shook her off when she'd weakly knotted the bandages, pushing her subtly behind you as you bent down gingerly to pick up the weathered leather, keeping eye contact with Benny so you didn't appear to him as exposed.

'What do you want?'

'Consider it a gift,' he said, sincere.

You choked back a mirthless laugh. 'You're not serious?'

'You don't have the monopoly on truce offerings,' he said.

Your last truce had been met with the dust of his cabin floor. He must've noted the challenge in your eyes for he amended his words.

'Let it be a belated birthday present. Or whatever. I come with good conscience.'

You conisdered his "gift", a lance of suspicion trilling down your spine.

Yet it would make a good addition to your survial, help you reach the top of the mast as you've been craving. The gloves were fingerless, the leather was brand-new and they would slide smoothly over your palms, adjustible by strap belts near the wrists.

You couldn't take a long time to make a decision; you donned the gift and tightened it; nodding a thanks in the Captain's direction.

'You ain't heard of the witch, Rowena?' Benjamin posted.

You assessed him for his suddenness but you kept up the gossip. 'The Scottish-bred witch. Heard her son, Crowley's been lusting after the throne of Hell.'

'It keeps getting empty,' Benny said. 'Do you know why?'

The Harvelle legacy had the reputation of being the family that had killed most of Hell's Kings. None of the Harvelle ancestors held a candle to the latest Leader though, the Firstborn of South America, wife to a Celeste Middleton who went by the name of Charlie Bradbury for personal reasons.

Somehow you doubted Benny's intention was to praise a Human Leader.

'I have a feeling you will tell me,' you said.

'Rowena, tired of all the fighting, cursed the factions that ousted her. Said the humans had the decency to see grey areas, they were the only ones who treated her nice—she lent them a boon that an era will come where all the Leaders—'

'—will finish the world of all their enemies,' breathed out Selina, her eyes slightly wide with fear and curiosity. 'They're just myths. Rumours. There's no prophecy as such.'

'Then why do you think Rowena won't let her son ascend?' he countered.

You chose to believe your teammate over the vampire. 'Is there a point to this fable, Captain? I would think a rational mons—man,' you caught yourself, 'would know better.'

'I do know better. Just thought I'd let you know why I'm in your corner,' he said, raising his hands meaningfully. 'Even if I'm only a monster.'

Your eyes flared when he called you out. But you focused on what he meant: that he would help your faction asever he could.

The prophecy was the tale of woe of the witch that was currently the most powerful one in the world. Ages old, when she'd been starting out in dark magic, people and factions had kicked her about, inflicting various cruelties on her. Only some humans helped her. Rowena swore vengeance. When she grew into her witchiness, she formulated a prophecy that was never written down, only heard, and in the chinese whispers of these repeated lines, it was highly unclear what had been said. The gist was: twelve Leaders of a time would be successful in ending the other factions - it would be the era of the wars ending. But it would come at a great cost, at the cost of . . . well, that part had never been clear.

Before you could scoff to Benny's ridiculous gesture, you were interuppted by the call of your name. Climbing up the steps, huffing and puffing was your publicist. In tow—you frowned with annoyance—was her wife, Aurora - a hunter who enlisted for your little army to be with her only living family, Layla.

'It doesn't boost the morale of your entourage if you break rules!' she began with a scold. It was her belief that breaking rules would provoke vampires, and cause a fight.

Your annoyance deepend. 'If you'll please excuse us, Captain.'

Benny walked away, more out of respect, you felt - for all vampires had heightened senses, it was moot to wish to not be overheard on a ship infested with that kind. Unless, of course, you found some soundproof hideouts.

'Mrs Stun,' you addressed Lay with a forced smile, 'it's too hard to please you.'

'Not if you try,' Aurora muttered.

Lay was lightly tanned, but Aurora had a bit of a darker complextion. Lay was closer to your age than her wife was, and in the eyes of Aurora, you were still largely a child to be given the reins of an entire continent.

Aurora had been a loyal soldier of your father's. Her only motif to have joined your (far less important, according to her) ranks was to be closer to her wife. Short-distance relationships barely functioned in this dog-eat-dog world, long-distance fell out of question for most couples. Hell, you could probably count the number of couples on one hand's fingers that functioned on long-distance here. Soulmates were a far more common concept than that.

Love for her wife didn't stop Aurora from hating your methods though. Or your age, or attitude, or face . . . everyone gets the picture.

Lay warned her wife with a glance. 'Forgive her, Lady Y/N. The sea makes her crabby.'

'No mind paid. Mrs Stun,' you said, turning to Aurora, a bit stiffly. 'Would you be a dear and escort Ms Doll back down? I feel she's had quite the nightly adventure, don't you? Your lovely wife and I will probably just be talking shop.'

Aurora pursed her lips. She hated you, but she couldn't defy your direct orders. You waited till they trailed out of earshot.

'Is there any reason why you are out of safety, Mrs Stun?' you asked.

She threw a glance around, and took you to the edge of the ship, on the starboard side. She lowered her voice to a whisper. 'They declined our invitation,' Lay was indignant.

Your brow hooked upwards before a smile of understanding and mischief spread. 'Leaders, Winchester?'

'You don't have to be so happy about it,' she said, glaring lightly.

'I can try,' you said, although you made no effort at all to hide your grin.

She sighed. 'I know you like to do things your way, and you don't like being marketed as marriage material, but ties with the older Winchester might seal you a permanent spot.'

'Shut up.'

She frowned, 'That's no tone to take with your—'

'No, I mean it, Mrs Stun, shut up.'

Even from this distance, you could hear it. Your eyes grazed the sky, but it was a no moon night, just the black beauty that was littered with endless untouchable angelic stars. Your eyes scanned the horizons next; on the port side, it was just a smidge from here, but it was growing in size. Mrs Stun followed your orbs to the black outline. And she heard it then too—the howls. Strong, blood-stirring, snarling and snapping howls. You gripped her arm, gentle but firm.

'Alert the troops. Prepare the battalions and wear your armours. Bar the civilians somewhere safe. Do not engage until I tell you to - I'll see if the vampires can scare them off.'

Lay rushed before you, almost sprinting across the deck and disappearing below. You ran up to the other side, up the topmost deck, where you'd seen Benny retreat, at the ship's wheel. He was flanked by two soldiers who were chattering nervously.

'Captain—'

'I see them,' he said grimly, cutting you off. 'Purebloods. Rare to come by, but rarer would be the ships that live to tell the tale.'

'Any way we can outrun them?'

'They are the elite. Better ships, more knots. They'll catch up eventually.'

If you couldn't have flight . . . 'So we fight.'

His lips curled into a sneer. 'We?'

Your eyes flashed in anger. 'They are elite purebloods, do you think they'll leave you when they hear that you've been sheltering humans? Elite hates accomplices as much as their criminals.'

'We did it for the blood supply,' he explained. 'No skin off our neck.'

A thrill of horror crossed your features, but it was masked by anger. 'Mark my words, Captain - even if one of us survives, which we will - they'll take down the whole bloody ship. Some of you may die by the werewolves - all of you will die at our hands.' You squared yourself, eyes glittering with malice, 'Besides, if you really want to be on the "winning side" from the prophecy, earn it.' You turned about on your heel, hearing him curse under his breath; you throw over your shoulder, 'Tear pieces of your cloth and tie them around your right wrist - that way my kind would know not to kill you!'

Flying down the stairs, you took a sharp turn, through the door. The soldiers had filtered out into the corridor waiting for further instructions. Boa, your burly and taciturn personal bodyguard handed you an azure napkin, the color of Europe. You tied it around your right wrist, armoring up with Boa's aide.

'All right, Hunters,' you said. 'Werewolves. Purebloods. Silver. It is our job to make sure none of them reach the Commons.' (It was the slang your lot used for civilians.) You inserted the silver magazine in your gun that Boa had carried up. He also handed you a bow and a thick set of arrows, all headed with silver. Lastly, you were given two long silver daggers that you tucked against your ankles by tying them with a thin wire.

'Try to not be cornered against the ship walls,' the chief of your army, Baz, said. Baz had always been a people's person.

Boa was the one with a long scar running down from his shoulder to the tips of his left hand's fingers. It was how you usually distinguished between the twin brothers.

'Werewolves can swim, so throwing them overboard will only buy you time,' Baz revised.

'Pass around three vials of silver to the close-combaters - poison for last resort,' you said, gazing at the back of the crowd that was near the back door. The last woman there nodded and headed back down for the poison.

'Do we have a number?' grunted Boa.

You shook your head. 'But the vampires seemed scared.'

'Great,' Baz muttered, meaning it. The man thrived on danger. It was one of the reasons why you chose him.

'They're good for nothing,' the surlier twin said. 'Kill them, too.'

You gave him a look. 'Not unless they aren't on our side,' you tapped your cloth. 'Check for their loyalties. Furthermore, I would advise an element of surprise but—'

'Those dogs have probably already sniffed us out,' Boa completed. 'Do we have access to the cannons?'

'You have permission to collaborate with them on it, and take over if unhelpful,' you said.

Baz ordered a handful of soldiers to do that, they left into an adjacent room where the servant quarters were.

'Remember the aim isn't to win,' you affirmed, 'it's to get away. Do everything in your power to survive.'

Thirty vampires, many scores of werewolves, and about a hundred humans. Yet Mathematics failed you - it must be taking revenge for not being your favorite subject in school. Purebloods would not have been how you first introduced the new members of your army to the world, surely not one who seemed to have two centuries' worth of ancestry to back up their bestial habits.

The wolves were ripping into the skin of any human they could sink their teeth into, gobbling them up because they thought that converted werewolves were a disgrace. And from the carcasses, they took bones to play - as if it was some reward for "cooking" their own food. It disgusted you how much saliva they had brought to the ship's floor in just under half an hour.

One of your guns was already lodged in a werewolf that was now being stamped under furious and sparring footsteps. It was after you took a good six and a half down with its bullets.

You were shooting arrows from your vantage at the werewolves trying to get on the deck with the mast where you are, with nine other sharpshooters weeding out the tougher werewolves from a distance.

At least the vampires had worn the indicative cloths around their hairy wristbones.

Benny was dropping heads right and left, in the centre of the war on the level below you. Scully was ripping off heads with his bare teeth, a fearsome sight.

You notched three arrows to kill three on the other end of the ship, it was aimed a little higher to account for the wind. The bowstring went taut, and you released them, not waiting to see if they hit - knowing already that they had, if not killing, at least maiming - saving an eighteen-year-old on your team.

Your bleeding palms may hinder your close-combat, but they wouldn't fail you in your shooting.

You were taking one such aim when the floor under your feet slipped out with a large blast. You jumped to grab the railing as the wood under your feet crumbled and caved into the lower level.

Fucking cannons.

You strained to pull yourself over the railing and to drop on the other side of it - right on top of a werewolf that was trying to scramble away from the falling floor. You didn't have time (or courage) to see how many soldiers had been lost to that blast. You plunged the arrow in your hand through the brain of the monster, landing on your feet as it fell dead on its knees, between your legs.

You had to unsheath your daggers since you'd fallen where the close-combat was taking place. You aimed for their kneecaps, dodging their claws and teeth, even if your hair and shoulders did get snagged a fair number of times.

You soon realized that the werewolves weren't subsiding - no matter how many you killed. Your eyes found a plank and several ropes had been brought as connectors between the ships. Any vampire who tried to thwart that bridge was instantly overpowered by a group who stood guard on this ship, welcoming more of their members that never seemed to end.

You knew that if it weren't for the humans, the vampires would've easily lost by now.

'Boa!' you yelled. You signaled for the bridge, asking for cover.

He came to your side to swiftly slash the werewolves who came at you. You firmed your feet in your place, shooting at the five guards at that distance. As you killed the first two, and severely injured a third - the remaining two dodged out of the way. When they noticed you, they ran for you.

You ducked under a sparring couple of a vampire and a werewolf, sidestepped a dead human, and then used your momentum to strike your dagger through the left arm of the fourth guard, and into his heart. The last one tackled you to the ground, its jaws snapping way too close to your face.

The stench made you cringe, there were bits of skin in his bloody teeth. You locked your arms to keep his torso away from yours, struggling to keep him away with your weaker upper body even if the monster on you was only of a medium build.

Boa saved your ass. He swung his weapon in a powerful swing, and it was all you could do to shut your eyes and mouth tightly as the blood poured over you. You kicked the body off you, taking your bodyguard's hand to stand upright before he had to leave you to combat another wolf that threw itself in your direction.

You proceeded to the bridge to finish your job. You slaughtered the wounded guard. You kicked the bridge away, causing the four wolves on it to flail, and make a wide grasp for the ship. Two fell into the ocean, one caught the ledge, the other hanging onto the first one's pants.

The wind knocked out of you when a wolf threw itself on your back and your ribs must've bruised under the force with which you slammed into the ship's edge. Your remaining dagger followed the two wolves into the water, disappearing between the churning of the two ships. You bent forward on reflex when its breath came too close to your neck, his chest was to your back.

The heel of your shoes pinned through the right foot of the werewolf who yowled. Your elbow hit his chest, then his nose. It was thrown off of you. You extracted your first dagger from the werewolf guard you'd previously killed, in which time the one attacking you now, advanced on you again. You lodged your weapon in its ample belly that spurted blood. You coerced the knife up to his heart.

A new hand grappled for your shoulder, and you were pulled against the ledge again with a grunt. This time, your kidneys took the hit. The teeth of the wolf that had managed to halfway pull itself up the ledge was next to your ear. You whipped out an arrow and slammed it down into his hand. You bent down to pick your bloody dagger from the werewolf corpse and whipped around to plung it into his heart; following that you pulled the arrow holding him to the ship back out again.

The two hanging werewolves fell. The live one let loose a loud whine.

'Dogs,' you rolled your eyes.

Cannons had been blasting at regular intervals from both sides. The aims from their vessel was abysmal, and your team of humans had had a better chance of hurting their ship more, so there would be no chase when you got rid of these monsters.

But they did have a few good hits.

This particular one, which was just blasted, hurtled across the night sky with the faintest of whizzes and crashed into the tallest mast that you'd been trying to climb earlier.

Your eyes widened, and a gasp left the wolf who had you in a deadlock. You used its distraction to your advantage. You head slammed the bitch, and left her strong arms that had been choking you. You took two arrows out and speared both of her thighs. This didn't happen without a jarring blow to your stomach from her punch that brought blood to your mouth. But her shriek hid your groan.

You didn't have time to catch your breath. You had to jump out of the way of the mast that was careening your way, ready to bury you at the sea. Your legs were saved by inches when the thing toppled over the side of the ship. The bitch you'd maimed at the thighs wasn't as lucky and was made into a pancake.

Almost everyone aboard was lucky that it didn't fall on the inside of the ship where most of the battle was (you were sure that had been the intention of the werewolves when they had aimed for the mast) - it damaged a bit of your ship, yet it mostly, and most joyously, fell towards the other ship; the lovely irony: their ship was naturally lowered in height, making the mast tip in that direction, and in your favor.

Their ship buckled with a satisfying crunch of wood. The mast now forming the new bridge between the two ships. You hoped your soldiers would blast it soon so the werewolves stop coming over.

Before you could slide over the round wood, and back into the main fight, a large dog headbutted you. You fell on your butt, close to where the railing had been before it got destroyed, thanks to the fallen mast. Your left elbow absorbed most of the impact, the sea spraying your face when you came close to dropping off the edge.

Your attention was more fixated, however, on the actual wolf.

It was true that pureblood werewolves could access their powers anytime, but to turn into an actual wolf was a rare gift.

It pounced; you rolled away and onto your feet.

The mast had created a separate slice of battle. Only two other pairs were fighting here except you: Mrs Stun versus a werewolf, and a skinny vamp who was clawing out his werewolf's heart.

The vampire, noticing the wolf, sneered in hatred.

The wolf was distracted from you for a second. The vampire launched itself at the animal who cleverly sidestepped and caught the vampire's waist betwixt its maws.

Your mouth actually fell ajar when the wolf bit the vampire so hard that its body snapped into two. Color you surprised, this was something extremely hard to do. You knew wolves like these were powerful - it didn't induce you with confidence upon witnessing just how much.

It didn't bother to eat the vampire, gagging in disgust - they mostly had a taste for humans, and vampires who were technically dead humans, might've tasted like decaying food to it.

Its yellow lamplike slitted eyes turned to Aurora, the hunter wife of the Stun family; before it turned to you. With your left elbow injured after that fall, your hand hadn't stopped quivering; you had one arrow aligned which weakly skittered away to the mast's side because the wolf dodged it without much effort.

It used that jump to keep speeding towards you. It couldn't sink its teeth in you as it had planned because you had swayed your weight onto your right leg as you swiveled, barely keeping your balance; its claws did scrape superficial wounds on your skin, across your left hip though.

You re-slung your bow, no point without your useless left hand; and went for your quiver. Your hand clasped around four arrows - all that you had left. You took one out, gripping it tight in your dominant hand.

You knew you couldn't battle this one for long - it would take too much energy. Attack wasn't an option either if that vamp was a good example. Yet defense took too long sometimes - you could be dancing around with this beast till God knows when.

You took a step in the opposite direction for every step it took towards you. The prowl of the animal seemed casual, almost lazed. Then, it did something that almost made you drop your weapon out of shock.

'You must be the head bitch,' he talked.

You scoffed with false bravado. 'Great. A talking fucking wolf - just when I thought you dogs couldn't find more ways to whine.'

Its lips twisted into a smile that was surreal on a wolf. It must be a Pureblood Alpha with a fucking gift of shapeshifting. Alphas can talk in their wolf form, you knew, but you'd never seen one. The rumors had been from so long ago that you thought that they were just that - whispers of the fucking wind.

'Mock all you want,' the deep mesmerizing voice purred. It both fascinated you and frightened you. 'I can hear that heart pounding away like a friggin' hummingbird's - it'll be so delicious with all those hormones.'

'Creep,' your nose scrunched, walking in circles still. As you often did, you changed topics. 'Tell me, how'd you even find us out, huh? It's not like we didn't do a damn good job of concealing ourselves.'

'You don't know who you are, do you? The final piece,' he spat, an almost grimacing smirk fixed on his face. 'Couldn't let you preside Europe and ruin the world, could we?'

Your brows furrowed. 'Did Captain Laffitte call you?' you asked the most pressing question, though you had many.

The answering snarl meant "no". 'That vampire is a traitor to our faction,' it growled, its claws digging into the strong wood threateningly. 'Transporting humans, what a crime! I'll kill him when I'm finished with you.'

'Boy, do I feel special,' you smiled sarcastically, stopping in your tracks. 'Though, you won't be able to keep your word—you won't live past me, dude.'

As expected, his ego was hurt - you can expect that from a person so gifted, who felt so invincible. A person who was egoistic enough to underestimate you, and give you time to think.

It pounced once more and you didn't duck down until it was inches away. You had walked enough so that the mast had been against your back; the werewolf's snout crashed into the wood.

You had turned on the balls of your soles at the last minute so that your back had been to his front. Your hand had shot up and the arrow nicked a long line along his chest and down to the crotch. When he fell due to gravity, the arrow snapped in half, and the lower half of its body took you down with it. Your quiver dug painfully into your back - it wasn't your biggest problem though - you were suffocating under its heavy abdomen.

You punched at its legs and joints (the weakest points) vigorously till it rolled off you, and trembling, stood to its feet.

He snapped its teeth at your face. Your hair missed his bite by inches. The twig in your hand which had been the lower half of your arrow, you shoved it into the monster's mouth - it stuck painfully between his teeth even if he snapped it like a toothpick.

It gave you time to put some distance and retrieve another arrow; one seemed to have slipped out of our quiver when you were getting up, so only two were left with you.

Even weakened due to heavy bleeding, the Alpha of this pack was quick to attack. It swiped at your legs; you came down with an elbow to its brain which seemed to hurt you more than him because it was your left one. You twirled on the ground with your uninjured hand and jabbed the arrow in its left eye.

It howled in pain. Maybe you imagined it, but it felt like the voices of the battle seemed to slow down at the sound - as if the wolves sensed something was wrong with their Alpha.

Your intuition proved right when, out of your periphery, you saw heads turning in your direction - for which some wolves got killed.

You stamped the arrow down further in its face, gritting in effort. Even then, the wolf wasn't dying.

You pulled the arrow from his eye to make it painful for him and then swung a foot over its prone form, straddling it's back; you were facing the rest of the ship this way, and it was almost as if your enemies were holding their breath for your next move. You pulled the wolf up by its ear, his fur matted with claret; it was with struggle, bringing him into a chokehold with your throbbing left hand, your arrow poised at its heart for everyone to rue their day about.

'Whine, won't you?' your British accent curled your words into a certain menacing sweetness. 'I'll allow it this once.' Your arrow pierced his heart, the crimson fluid spouting from his chest and flooding into your palm.

The wolves howled as if it were a military salute.

You slumped as all of them ran like rats from the ship, using the mast to cross over because you heard people from their ship shout orders about retreating. The humans slouched back, relieved; so did the vampires. (Boa tried to stab as many as he could with his silver sword as they were trying to flee.)

You dragged yourself away from the fallen mast. Without imminent danger, your body started screaming about all the pains it had endured, that it had kept quiet about till now. Like pangs, your brain was being sent impulses of all the places that hurt, and all the degrees that it hurt in.

Broken ribs, sore back, left hand and elbow throbbed, cuts on hip, bruised stomach, bloody mouth - and so many more little tales your body had to tell. You were also tired - you needed water and sleep.

You took a deep breath, compartmentalizing all your pain, and already prioritising the order you would take care of yourself in. This was a habit you picked after having been through many wars like this before - never so intense, but wars nevertheless.

You also glanced around to take stock of your people; making plans in your head for the next few hours. Selina and her small group of doctors would have their work cut out.

Speaking of, the civilians were meekly peeking out.

You used the broken railing behind your back to slowly pull yourself up but almost fell back down when you heard a scream of dismay.

'AURORA!'

Her yell seemed to set everyone in motion. With cries, people started rushing to their deceased family members or the wounded ones.

You blinked in surprise as Lay came running, pushing her fellow humans aside - and that's when you finally see it.

Mrs Stun was being dragged away by her leg by the werewolf she had been fighting. She was being viciously stamped on because of all the hurried footsteps and the mad struggle. The werewolf who carried her was weak, and you saw the symptoms of being poisoned on his skin - the werewolf was avenging its posioned self by dragging an unconscious Aurora away. (At least you hoped she was unconscious.)

A coil of guilt made itself known, and you mentally cursed yourself for not paying attention to her when she'd been so close to you. She had been on your side of the mast.

You leaped to your feet, using your last arrow to aim. Your hand shook violently; you gripped the round bodice of your bow that much tighter. With careful aim, and ignoring the cries of Lay Stun who was being held back by the twins now, you shot your very last shot.

Your heart fell as your arrow fell into the ocean - missing its mark by inches. Still, there was a surprised bark from the poisoned wolf, and you noted one of your soldiers - Rory, also an archer - hadn't failed unlike you. The poisoned wolf toppled off the mast.

With a distressed yell, Lay broke free of her binds, and climbed the mast, pushing the werewolves into the sea - whoever came in her way - not that they were paying her much mind either. They all just wanted to escape to their ship before it left without them, all of them were mindless now with their Alpha gone.

So, there, in the middle of the makeshift bridge, Lay kneeled next to her wife.

There was another horrible blast, and a cannon had shot through the centre of the mast - it had been one of your shooters, probably hoping to break the mast in two and let the deadweight fall into the massive waters.

Sure enough, with the distance between ships growing, the hole in the mast was splintering into something larger as well. At this rate, the Stun family would either fall into the ocean or sail away with the werewolves.

You jumped onto the mast, your heels clicking loudly. Boa and Baz came after you. You all were effectively standing above the ocean as the wood cracked quickly under your feet - an ocean filled with werewolves who were trying to either swim to their ship or simply stay afloat. Even if your side of the mast was steady, you found yourself worried for Lay.

'Lay!' you yelled over the terrible sound of wood breaking. 'Give me your hand!'

'We have to bring her, Y/N!' she sobbed, holding the face of her lover in her lap. 'She still has a pulse.'

Almost unwillingly, your eyes darted to the multiple bite marks on the leg that Aurora had been dragged with.

'She needs help!' Lay didn't seem to be getting it.

'Please come over,' you urged. 'We'll see about her!'

'What do you mean!?' she shrieked. 'I'm not going anywhere until you help her!'

Boa, uncomfortable, mumbled to you. 'Aurora's infected, Lead.'

Your lips pursed. You extended your intact arm, 'Lay, please. The mast won't hold long.'

Her eyes wildly scanned yours. 'Take her, then! I'll come after her!'

'Lay, your wife made a choice. For this continent,' you said. 'For these wars! Let her sacrifice not be in vain—'

'What do you know about sacrifices?!' she screeched. Your lips parted in surprise; you'd never been talked to like that, not by Layla. 'What do you know about love!? You either take her, or you leave me!'

You took a step forward, hands raised placatingly. 'Lay—'

With a terrifying lurch, the wood gave away. You didn't think when you jumped forward, letting Boa figure out how he was to keep you alive - your outstretched hand grasped Lay, more than half of your body hanging out. But you were anchored. Your thighs were pinned under someone's weight - and you had a feeling that it was Boa, who must also have been held by several people behind him.

It was a good thing too because you wouldn't have been able to stay aboard under the weight of both the Mrs Stuns; Lay was clutching Aurora by the wrist.

'We can't hold long!' came a yell from Baz. 'It'll fall soon.' True enough, the mast was dangerously teetering on the edge.

'Lay, reconsider!' you said. 'You'll lose your life! Do you think she'd want that?'

'Stop talking about her as if she's dead already!' she growled, much like the wolves had been. You could see her straining, hanging like that, her lover's hand slipping slowly because she wasn't strong enough, and another hand stretched painfully in yours. She was clinging to your azure cloth, her long manicured nails digging into your skin painfully.

You saw her do another thing you never had: Lay Stun was crying.

'Lay—!'

'You don't,' her breath hitched. 'You don't know what she wanted!'

The ship groaned, tilting with the mast. You reinforced your grip, aided with your smarting left hand.

'And you don't know what I want,' she sobbed.

'We can talk about this, back on the ship!'

'No!' she yelled. 'You don't get it . . . y-you don't get—!' She gasped when her slick hands slid further out of your leather gloves. The azure around your wrist grew an unsteady knot.

'I love the work, Y/N,' she said, determined. She met your eyes. 'Pardon me if I couldn't marry it.' It felt more like an accusation than an admission.

She wildly jerked her palm away, your azure cloth unhinging from your wrist and falling with both the Mrs Stuns.

You were pulled off the mast to safety (you couldn't put up much fight against Boa), the mast was pushed into the sea by a hoard of vampires who had survived - before the mast could take you all down into the treacherous waters.

You felt dazed, glued to the starboard side of the ship, watching as the monsters helped the mighty ocean drown your teammate and her family by eating them.

The war had shown it's true colours again; you couldn't help the anger as you watched the blood infested waters getting smaller and smaller in the distance. You had left your friend, quite literally, to the wolves.

Selina was slammed; her group of doctors and the civilians aided her. About sixty humans fell under urgent care, the rest were managable for a while, twenty were dead (inclusive of the ones Boa had to execute because they were bitten). All the vampires were on standby (only eight of them died) - because, well, they were self-healing - they would be seen after the humans were taken care of, if they would even need it then.

You were an orange case. Betwixt the code red and the look-after-yourself-because-you-know-that-much group.

So there you sat, doing a mediocore job of bandaging the wound on your side, and making a sling for your left hand that could be a good joke for the team of doctors some day who were giving you a distressed side-glance everytime they saw you now. To be fair, they were giving everyone in your orange group that look.

You didn't stare back, unable to care about your state right now. Your eyes were fixed on your thoughts where the scene that conspired tonight was playing on a loop. There was a lump in your throat which was as heavy as the mast must have been - the reality seemed as unreliable as climbing that fucking pole.

'Lady Y/N,' called the grave voice of your chief of army. Baz awkwardly stood to the side, his voice low for your ears only. 'Um, do you want to address the crowd? The grievers? Um, Lay would usually, uh—' he shuffled uncomfortably. 'I can do it, but it's better if it comes from someone of higher in the hierarchy.'

You ran a hand through your hair which was a guise to press your palm into your eyes so that it could absorb the tears that were welling up.

I love the work, Y/N, her voice bounded within the confines of your head.

You stood up with a deep breath that pulled you straight on your heels, fully composed - yet with an empathetic mask that the survivors will want.

'Of course,' you said. 'This job shall fall on my shoulders.'

Pardon me if I couldn't marry it, Lay had blamed. Yeah, well, fuck that.

She doesn't have to marry the work because you already have. And marraiges need sacrifices - Lay and Aurora would have to be the first morsel from your personal life to this burning pyre that is your planet. 

A/N: Talk about a toxic relationship, eh 🫤? Ah, anyways, who's ready to get their Dean on in Chapter 3 👀?

Tag List.

@hobby27 @stoneyggirl2 @globetrotter28

[bronzebtch]

rhea wanting companionship so deeply that she cannot help from feeling absolutely embarrassed by it. if anyone knows the depth of this desire, then they shall know her at her most vulnerable. that in the end, though she claims she's strengthened from the neglect of her marriage, all she wanted really was to matter enough to be wanted.

[alangdorf]

Sorryyyy for dropping off the face of the earth; got kinda shy after that last post but mostly I’ve just been writing though I cannot guarantee that any of that will ever be finished (also I’m very insecure about my writing AAAH). Figure I might as well post the valentines I had done (like two months late lol); interestingly this turned into more of a hand lettering exercise than I was expecting lol

[unproduciblesmackdown]

fr is he, you know.............................................repeatedly described as being Impersonable and Lacking Charm and Pedantic and confused / bothered by things he supposedly shouldn't be while inspiring confusion / botherment in others in ways he supposedly shouldn't and like 99.9% of the grief he's given is over All That while he's just sitting or standing there rather than the like intimidatingly efficient hitman georg thing he has going on. which is in fact The Skill That Makes Him Useful Despite It All and also perhaps the least foothold in interactions because [worried he can & may kill you] affords power when otherwise just being the weird guy nobody likes(tm)

bonus mordecai balling

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

thinkbing about. him