#he really is just a delight who gets better and better :')))

[yeyinde]

18+ | heavy noncon. implied kidnapping. Simon is not a good person.

What was supposed to be a casual hike turns into a nightmare when you step on a bear trap and the massive, terrifying man who set it up comes to get his catch. And unfortunately for you, he isn't he a kind stranger.

In fact, he oozes nothing but a rotten, gangrenous malice as he stares down at your helpless form. Taking a wicked, depraved sort of delight when he tells you he doesn't really see the point in letting food go to waste after you plead and beg for him to help you, to let you go.

At least—

Not without some incentive.

It's a dog eat dog world out there, after all, he says with slow, lax roll of his thick shoulder; words much too casual, too nonchalant, for the thread of cruel, mocking venality needling through. But from the way he stares at the congealing blood splashing up over the curve of your bare thigh, you work out pretty quickly what exactly it is you can barter with.

He's already staring at you like you're a piece of meat, anyway. Might as well sate his hunger for the kind that keeps you alive for a little while longer. And then you'll escape because that's the deal. He gets to whet his appetite and you—

You get to go home.

(but you should know better than to trust wicked men—)

because it really is dog eat dog, don't you know? And even old, grizzled wardogs like himself start to crave something sweet. Something they can sink their teeth into, and fuckin' hell, aren't you just the sweetest little pup he's ever seen? 'nough to give rotten men the biggest sweet tooth.

And he knows a deal is deal and he always keeps his word, but it really is too bad that his truck won't start, he tells you later on, fingers prodding into the swollen skin of your ankle, pressing cruelly against shattered bone until you howl. Otherwise he'd definitely let you go.

("maybe tomorrow," he adds, staring down at the mess he made of you spilling over his old mattress—aching something awful—and nudging your knee out of the way as he slips back between your slick, sticky thighs. "might start workin' then, birdie. But—"

He cocks his head to the side, eyes glinting like a blade as he gazes at your raw, swollen cunt; fingers dipping to catch his pink-tinged cum as it leaks out of you. Wetting them before smearing it over the deep, red puncture marks he bit into the tender meat of your thigh. It stings. Burns. But you don't think anything could ever hurt as much as your ankle—physically, of course, because his next words, the cruel coo in them, seem to rip you down the centre:

"—you better start thinkin' 'bout 'ow you're gonna pay me back for lettin' you stay 'ere, birdie," the mean twist of his mauled mouth at your hitching sob belies the mocking pantomime of compassion he scratches into his tone. And when your sore legs fall open further for him, he can't stop the flash of amusement from frothing over the edge when he huffs out a patronising good girl, pup. Maybe we can train you after all—)

[kirbmey]

comforting rafayel with sylus !

💌: sfw, slightly suggestive, poly relationship, not proofread.

when you started dating sylus you knew he’d give you anything you asked for, anything. even the most impossible thing, he managed to give it to you, wrapped around in a pretty pink bow.

and you loved being sylus’ spoiled girlfriend, who wouldn’t? asking for that expensive jewelry you saw at the mall, clothes, shoes, make up and getting it hours later. hell, you didn’t even had to ask for anything, sylus got his eyes on you every minute of the day, purchasing any item you landed your gaze on for more than two seconds.

it gotten to a point where he wouldn’t just give you material things, but also people, feelings, experiences, places.

that night you both wore your most lavish clothes as you walked together through the sleek gallery hallways presenting a new art collection. you begged (not really) sylus to go with you the day prior; attending to these high-standard meetings with him was one of your favorite things because you got to brag about who you managed to pull, about the almost two meters tall man who was utterly devoted to you.

and again, who was he to deny his princess’ wishes? so he complied when he saw that adorable pout on your lips and sat on his lap in a sultry way, nodding at your request right after kissing your cherry lips.

you clung to your lovers arm while commenting on some of the paintings, many of them abstract as other leaned to realism. sipping on a glass of wine you got from a silver platter at the entry, leaving the red imprint of the lipstick you put on for sylus.

the both of you were having a delightful time, stealing kisses from him, sometimes humming the calming jazz filling up the space. such a relaxing moment you two got to share on the dim atmosphere.

until you saw him.

surrounded by both men and women showering him with compliments and praises, some tugging at his arm and others brushing their hands with his. he looked like a goddamn ken doll, you could swear you’ve never seen a man pretty as a girl like that. it even made you feel slightly envious of his delicate appearance.

when you saw his lilac eyes roam around the room, looking for a way out, his cheeks painted the most beautiful rosy color and his mouth forming an adorable pout you knew, you knew he had to be yours.

it wouldn’t be the first time you ask sylus for something of the sort, though you felt anxious mouthing the words.

“sy…” you began, using that sweet voice that indicated you wanted something. he was speaking to some known friends, immediately concluding the conversation as he looked down at you while he squeezed your smaller hand, head leaning down to listen to you.

“him. i want him.” you declared as you held his chin between your manicured fingers, directing his sight towards the shorter boy. he smiled, humming in agreement to then respond to the request.

“i figured it the second we stepped in here.” he admitted with low voice, hiding his face in your neck to pepper some sweet kisses along the soft skin, shielding your whispers from curious ears.

“you wanna have him or do you want me to have him, angel?” he simply asked, the question too familiar on his tongue. you’ve done this before, several times. and sylus didn’t get jealous, not a bit.

why get jealous when he could have not one, but two pretty faces and bodies sharing the night with him? needless to say, at the end of the day you were the one on his mind, soul, heart and arms. the only one.

but neither him or you would deny some fun. two perverted minds worked better than one.

“you, you have him. i wanna watch it all.” by the way you spoke anyone could tell you were an spoiled girl, but he took pride in that. sylus loved seeing how spoiled he made you become, with this unbreakable princess syndrome. his princess.

he happily agreed, offering you an slow and passionate kiss, almost too fervent for the moment and situation. he then took off to the younger boy’s direction, his step deliberate and imposing, locking eyes with him from the distance. rafayel could see him, he caught his eye. maybe his snowy hair, his crimson eyes or the way his shirt wasn’t buttoned up enough for an occasion like this. and maybe he watched how you two made out in front of one of his favorite pieces, taking note on the possessive grip the unknown man had on your ass seconds before.

rafayel excused himself from everyone surrounding him, pushing off some people to get to sylus. he was claiming him with just a feline gaze, and rafayel obliged, his feet were moving by themselves towards the taller man’s direction.

holy, he was tall, a lot taller than him. bigger, broader, more masculine, more imposing. he felt like crushing on sylus like a stupid teenage girl. his cheeks never gave up the pinkish coloring, his fingers playing around with the fabric of the other’s loose tie and speaking with all the courage possible, flirting his way around the older man.

they chatted for a while, walking away as rafayel leaded the way, holding a couple of long fingers between his skinnier ones, followed by your fairy like presence with quiet steps, making sure tonight’s victim didn’t notice you looming over them. you found amusing how they walked with quick steps, stealing kisses between each passing second, the wet sounds decorated with lustful giggles.

you knew how easily sylus could get what he wanted, where do you think you learnt your ways? he was on top of the world, his ego maybe a bit too big at times. as yours. but that didn’t matter because he always got what he wanted and taught you how to manage the same thing.

he’s been with boys before, too. he liked them slightly more feminine, softer features, well spoken and well behaved, maybe and just maybe a little bratty for enjoyment purposes. and rafayel was all that. scared of taking the lead at times but taking it anyway, bold from him, sylus thought.

and for rafayel it was quite the opposite. he liked his men taller, bigger, buffer, bulkier, dominant, even mean at times. he liked being treated like a bitch and therefore he acted like one when around the same gender; he loved the teasing, giving the bedroom eyes to any stranger who met his standards.

he always got his way with someone at these exhibitions, men, women, both, more than two, more than three even. he was young, hot, rich and handsome. why have one thing when you could have them all? seems like you three had a lot more in common than you initially thought.

two men who were on top of the world collided that night and you, little angel, witnessed all of it. the sweat running down their sculptured bodies, the dirty words spilling from their swollen lips, the praise and the degradation, the panting, the moaning, the heavy breathing, the squelching and sturdy sounds. the culmination of it all.

throughout the whole thing you hid behind the door, peeking through the gap; sylus made sure to leave it open enough for you to watch. because let’s not forget, you asked for this with those beautiful doe eyes of yours, and he delivered it the exact way you wanted it. he never disappointed you.

rafayel clung to sylus as a lost soul, meeting up with him, crushing on him. they started to spend more time together and you loved to see that rafayel grew closer to your lover, because you were crushing on him too. you never spoke, you didn’t even know he noticed you at the exhibition, but he was the topic of your dirty talks with sylus.

eventually he ended up confessing to him and he learned the truth behind his actions. sylus told him to meet at his penthouse, where you prettily awaited for him, too, ready to uncover and explain the whole situation to him.

there were two endings to this. first, he got mad at you both, cussed you out and left stomping like a kid. second, he embraced it, accepted it, let you in his life too, spent time with you two and fell in love with both of you. that was ideal, utopian.

luckily for you, rafayel was an open minded man as you two, feeling a wide smile spread across his handsome face when he saw you sitting on sylus’ lap on the leather couch, him patting the seat next to you two with a feline smile. that night, you three consolidated your relationship, welcoming the purple haired man into it, sleeping together right after tangled between their muscular arms and chests.

nowadays you kept on being together, most of your hours were spent with rafayel since sylus was too busy with business this last months. you two were sylus’ most precious belongings, his puppy and kitten, you all fell in love with each others ways.

how sylus seemed to take the lead in the relationship, sometimes letting you both take care of him when he was too tired to even think. how you were cute as a button, always dressed in pink and smelling like vanilla, letting them both lead you around and you happily complied. they wouldn’t want you to lift a single finger for the rest of your life.

and then rafayel, he felt fresh to you two. your relationship with sylus was perfect and you had no complaints whatsoever, but when rafy appeared in your lives, he gave everything a new point of view. the way he could be so childish, such a free soul; it felt like he was living his first life. he was the perfect combination between a pillar and a damn doll.

so when sylus found out he couldn’t make it to rafayel’s latest exhibition due to a meeting scheduled months ago he got frustrated, requesting you to support him as much as you could. he also told you to not let him get on your nerves in case he threw one of his classic tantrums, you two argued like a married couple because of your clashing personalities and sylus always had to tame you both.

“are you fucking serious right now?! i’ve been reminding you and him about this for months!” and yes, he was completely right, but he had no idea why sylus didn’t attend that night. rafayel had this habit of speaking before thinking.

he stood in the fancy gallery’s bathroom, arms crossed across his expensively dressed chest and a pout drawn in his lips as always; it was his reaction to any situation. you comically imitated his pose, a frown plastered on your face. you two being the same word in a different font.

“i know, rafy, but you know sylus’ been crazy busy these days.” you agreed on, getting on your tippy toes and trying to reach for his cheek to caress it the way he liked, eyes wide open when you saw him move away and leave the room, slamming the door on his departure and gasping at the loud sound. this fucking kid.

once the exposition was done you two headed home sat on the lavish limousine, the awkward silence filling up the leather scented air. you tried to talk to him a few times but he sat there, silently looking through the window and legs crossed, keeping all of his dignity to himself. with that pout yet again. god.

to your surprise sylus was sat on the couch when you two entered the penthouse, a cigarette held between his kissable lips, hearing how rafayel scoffed at the sight of the other man and tried to walk away elsewhere. anywhere without you two.

a gasp left his pretty lips when he felt a way too big hand wrap around his wrists, pulling him to stand in front of his sat figure between his spread legs, sylus having a frown similar the one you had before, putting away the cigarette in the ashtray to pay full attention to the expectable tantrum thrown at him.

you, on the other side, sat down next to him after taking off your heels, wrapping your arm around his bicep to rest your head on-top of his shoulder, gifting him sweet kisses all over his jaw and neck, gaining a content and deep sigh from the older man.

“what is that attitude, puppy? storming around the house like this, not even greeting me properly.” sylus complained, his free hand caressing the side of his skinny waist, tracing its shape with a thumb while looking up to the boy who was now straight up embarrassed, looking down after the scolding, trying to avoid both of your inquisitive gazes.

“you didn’t come today… and you know how important this was to me. part of these paintings were inspired by us.” he whispered, almost impossible to understand. when you heard the sobs coming from his hidden face both of your expressions relaxed, your tiny hand coming up to hold his free one, caressing his knuckles and kissing a his fingertips. sylus’ frown softened too, pulling the younger man to his lap with caring movements, treating his body as if it was made out of glass.

“oh, my little boy, i’m so sorry i couldn’t make it today, i tried rescheduling the meeting but there was no way that could happen.” the low tone of his voice comforting the teary form on top of him with an actual reason, trying to keep him from getting the wrong ideas. rafayel felt how you stood before them on your knees on top of the couch, the soft cushions dipping with your weight. you started to brush the rebel locks covering his beautiful face, smiling when he did so after feeling your lingering touch, leaning closer to kiss the side of his face you could reach, lipstick stains over his shiny tears.

“you know you two are the most important thing to me, i’d do anything to please you. but this was out of my control, sweet thing.” sylus clarified before grabbing his chin between his own fingers, caressing his jaw and gifting him a soft and apologetic kiss. you imitated his actions right after, tasting your taller boyfriend on the younger’s lips, scratching that spot on his nape that made him calm down. he truly was a puppy.

after sorting things out and hearing sylus apologize about a thousand times you stood up on your tiny feet to run you three a nice and warm bath, water decorated with bubbly foam and the room lighted with rafayel’s favorite scented candles, making sure the expensive room seemed a little bit more cozy and inviting.

you and rafayel went to the tub first, helping him strip as he helped you too, fitting inside just right, your smallest frame in front of his as you caressed his thighs and peppered kisses on his knees, gaining a warm hug next to a massage to your shoulders in exchange. but when sylus tried to get inside he struggled due to his size and the little space left, earning soft chuckles from you two. after a lot of squeezing he managed to fit inside the tub, reminding himself to get a bigger one.

as he had to buy a bigger bed after having you two at the same time for the first night.

rafayel fell asleep against sylus’ chest not long after, as you fell asleep on his. the older man’s hands caressing the purple locks with the most care in the world, kissing his neck and shoulder blades after washing his body and yours with vanilla scented gel.

this was all he needed, a quiet night with his little precious lovers sleeping and surrounded by warm water as he got the chance to take in every detail from your beings, his heart and mind filled with thoughts of you two.

relaxing against the marble wall while going through all the memories you made together, all the moments you got to spend together since rafayel interrupted your lives.

sylus was completely devoted to you. yes, you were his goddess. rafayel on the other hand was obsessed with you, following you around like someone to look up to.

but in very little time sylus learned he could be devoted to two people at the same time and the same way, equally. and rafayel learned he could obsessed over two people at the same time and same way, equally.

seems like you had an eye for lovesick men <3

💌: idk where I did read this sylus x rafayel fic but istg it planted a brainrotting worm in my head and I can’t stop thinking about it :(

[twistedpink]

Maybe some Boyfriend!Epel hc with małe/masc presenting reader if that's okay? Happy valentines day btw, I Hope you're spending it well!! 💗

Thx for being my first request of the window! Hope I did this justice, I’ve always been very fem lol

Reader has those boy eyelashes

Boyfriend!Epel LOVES that you’re so masculine, how’d he get such a cool boyfriend? He shows you off all the time to his friends and family- There’s nobody on sage island that doesn’t know about your relationship, and that’s how he likes it!

Boyfriend!Epel learns to live for leaving marks on you,,, When he’s more comfortable with his own identity it’s not uncommon to find lipstick or patches of concealer on your face and neck. He basically vibrates when you walk into class looking all disheveled- That’s his man!!

Boyfriend!Epel likes to feel masculine in your relationship, too! He loves feeling useful, so when you look at him through your pretty lashes (if you’ve ever SEEN a teenage boy yk what I’m saying) just to say please, babe? he folds HARD. Or maybe you’re the type to fight for responsibility? No problem, you’ve got a great couch to duke it out on!

Boyfriend!Epel that, even when you clash and argue, really loves you. Down to his core, he cares to a fault. So whenever you’re in trouble he’s sprinting to the scene- Whether you need an accomplice or an alibi, he’s right there to help you get away with murder! With how many fights you’ve started in the dorm, Vil hates how passionately you defend each other. But he’s no monster, even he can admit it’s romantic - If not a tad crude, and lovingly discourages your “pissing contests”.

Boyfriend!Epel loves to make your own fun, and he’s got enough energy for two! You guys get into devastating shenanigans- But what’s the staff to do when you’re the picture of innocence if you’re accused? Epel uses his looks a lot to get out of trouble (much to his delight- expect the unexpected ig) and you’re his biggest sucker <3 How’re you supposed to resist when he’s so pretty???

Boyfriend!Epel’s built to be boyfriend material,, He’s so in love with you that it’s impossible to just be fleeting, so you’d better treat him right! Your relationship’ll never be half assed, and he’s going for the finish line- no matter who walks down the aisle <3

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

It's been three years since you last saw Eddie Munson. It felt like a lifetime had passed but it's not like you could ever really forget him and for a long time you tried, you really did.

And now he was right here in the same room as you. Shit...

No one really forgets their first love or their first heartbreak... you knew that better than anyone.

At school you and Eddie were in different circles, he was the guy who everyone deemed chaotic, a little dangerous and wild, the guy who girls like you should stay away from. Meanwhile you were best friends with Chrissy, a straight A student. Semi popular, a good girl.

Maybe if you had heeded that advice you would have saved yourself the heartbreak.

When Eddie sought you out you were intrigued, fascinated at the way he could be so loud, intense and a thorn in Jason Carver's side one minute to being sweet and gentlemanly, courteous and kind the next.

You fell for him hard despite your friends warnings that he was a "Dangerous" or "up to something". He was romantic with you, protective, chivalrous and sweet, both of you smitten from the start.

Eddie being described as dangerous made you giggle because once you really got to know him and saw the soft centre inside his hard shell it became ridiculous to you that people could think that.

Because Eddie wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone you...

Until you were proven oh so wrong and by Jason Carver of all people. Jason who has heard a conversation between Eddie and his friend Gareth, the two of them talking about how Eddie initially approached you to get close to Chrissy because he had a crush on her.

Jason took great delight in telling you that in front of the whole cafeteria after Eddie had riled him up one too many times. At that point Eddie had paled and even though you wished deep in your heart that what Jason was saying was a load of bullshit, you knew it wasn't.

That's when your heart broke, Eddie never really loved you did he? He wanted Chrissy all along. Perfect, sweet Chrissy. Your best friend.

You were dimly aware of Chrissy yelling at Jason and at Eddie, calling him an asshole and telling him to stay away from you. To be honest you fled before Eddie threw the first punch at Jason's smug face.

When you holed yourself up inside the girls locker room and finally let yourself break down that's when Eddie caught up to you or at least he tried to. You were sat on the floor, back against the door and heaving great sobs while Eddie desperately tried to talk to you.

"Please, please let me in princess. It's not... I had a stupid crush on Chrissy when we started talking but it meant nothing"

"You only started speaking to me because I'm Chrissy's best friend and you thought you had an in Eddie! Don't lie now. You're just pissed you got caught out" you could hear his sobs mingling with yours through the door and it broke your heart even more.

"No please baby, I love you okay? I fell in love with you, Chrissy was a stupid crush and it didn't matter, it went away when we started getting close, please open the door" his tone is begging, urgent.

"No! You were just using me from the start. Leave me alone. I hate you Eddie Munson" you shake with tears and you hear his broken sobs, then Chrissy is there and she's yelling at him that he's done enough and to leave you alone.

After that Chrissy wouldn't let Eddie near you, she dumped Jason for publicly humiliating you and the two for you stuck together like glue. You could tell she felt guilty for being the catalyst to Eddie's plan but it wasn't her fault. It was Eddie's.

You didn't speak to Eddie again, he tried to talk to you but you could never face him, the love you had for him was still so deep at that point but the heartbreak eclipsed all of it.

Pretty soon after graduation Eddie left Hawkins and you and Chrissy went to college together, you had a few dates and one serious boyfriend since Eddie but it never felt the way you did with him and that fucking sucked.

Now Eddie was in the same room as you after all of this time. You're at Steve's homecoming party and he's chatting with Dustin and Steve, he's all gesturing widely, big brown eyes wide, no doubt in some passionate rant about something.

A tug of longing fills you. More than once you wonder if you should have let Eddie at least explain his side. Would it have made a difference? Probably not. You still would have been heartbroken and felt used. It would have opened up more wounds and pain.

Eddie's chocolate brown eyes meet yours across the room and his mouth forms into a little oh...it's cheesy as shit but it's like there's some sort of cosmic shift that the two of you can only feel and it pulls you towards each other.

Within seconds Eddie is beside you, gazing at you with softness and the fairness traces of nostalgia and...longing.

"Hey princess"

❤️

What would you do? Would you hear Eddie out? Would you after three years give him a second chance? There is still a lot of love there along with all that heartache... I'd be interested to know. I left this open ended but slightly hopeful as it was pretty much all angst and it hurt like hell to write.

This is what I get after binging angst stories at two am. Oh well... ❤️🫣

[lockandkeyblade]

A Little Self-Insert Never Hurt Anybody

That's what Danny tells himself, anyway. It's just, he wasn't expecting the new universe he'd decided to hide in to know about him, and they sort of don't.

But they sort of do, because Danny Phantom is a cartoon about his life that somehow manages to become more and more inaccurate the longer the show went on.

He's really glad it stopped on season 3. He's not sure he could've handled another season 3.

The thing is though, Danny's a 2000's kid himself. He knows that if exists, there's porn of it. So he googles himself and finds a few fan sites, finds the fanfiction, finds a couple people tossing around a few ideas of what ghost society might really be like, and...

It has a decent amount of fans (or Phandom, as they call themselves, and isn't that just embarrassing but also Super Flattering). He's not going to comment on some of the ships (he will never get pearls in his boba tea again, pitch or otherwise) but the thing is, a lot of fans just seem to be really interested in what the show doesn't give them. Not just about his struggles, but the ghosts. What they might really be like, what they might really want.

He shouldn't, but-- hey. There's no GIW here. There's no one who believes this stuff is actually real. And he misses home; misses the Infinite Realms, even if he's not quite ready to go back yet.

So he makes a tumblr, and starts writing. Talking, really. About ghosts and Obsessions, about the rules of engagement and how you never, ever ask a ghost how they died.

His follower count slowly grows, and people start to realize that IceStar14 is one of those people who will answer anything. He very carefully navigates the mindfield that is shipping by telling people to "do what they want"; he can't really stop them, nor does he have the mind to. Despite this, his posts quickly become several thousand word back and forths with mutuals who might not get everything right, but are intuitive enough to get the basics.

It's delightful. It's kind of crazy. Danny can't help but feel...understood, by other, living people, for the first time ever. By people who aren't Jazz, or Sam, or Tuck.

Which is really the only reason why he starts answering the more invasive asks, the ones that are far more personal than people probably expect them to be. He goes from just talking about ghosts to talking about his life, the struggles of learning his powers, the stress of living a double life.

The fallout when his parents discover his halfa status, the-- the things they did to him afterwards. He never brings up the idea of a multiverse, or how he could've gone to hide in one. Somehow, the fanfiction writers figure that out all on their own.

They give him new families and people who understand him, constantly writing stories about him meeting the Justice League, or the BatFam, and--

It's the closest thing he's ever gotten to therapy. It hurts, but people love him. Or, they love the crazy little fantheorist, and they adore Danny Fenton/Phantom. The idea of him being hurt spawns a slew of hurt/comfort content that he genuinely spends hours curled up with, on the good days. Even on the bad.

No one has to know they made him cry. No one has to know how grateful he is, that people think he deserves better. People think he deserves better. Maybe he starts to take care of himself a little more, thanks to that. Maybe sleep comes a little easier, because he doesn't have to lay in bed and try to tell himself he's loved; he can just pick up his phone and scroll a few key tags, and it's right there, on the screen. People love him. People accept him.

It's pretty great.

Slowly but surely, the posts explode. He goes to sleep one night with a couple hundred followers and wakes up the next to several thousands. It's pretty easy to find out why.

Red Robin reblogged a few of his "stories". Nightwing quickly liked a bunch of them. In fact, a good majority of the superhero community that has an online presence has made at least one comment about Danny Phantom. He has no idea how they found him, frantically searching the tags until he finds one that makes his throat go dry.

"If Phantom was real, he'd be a Robin." tumblr user Danny4LJPres suggested. It has 14,000 responses.

One of them is a reblog from RedRobin, who agrees wholeheartedly.

[real-fire-emblem-takes]

I like how you can infer certain character traits and relationship dynamics of the Three Houses cast based on their Budding Talents.

Edelgard, Hubert, and Ferdinand's Budding Talents all correlate. Hubert is skilled in Ferdinand's preferred weapon, the Lance, which is also required for Pegasus Knight certifications. Ferdinand has a chance to master Heavy Armor, which is Edelgard's class type, and he wants to be considerer her equal/her better. Edelgard has skill in Reason, which makes sense given her connections to Thales, but also her spell pool matches her right hand Hubert's being primarily Dark Magic.

Felix is both skilled and sucking at Reason. It makes sense if you make him Mortal Savant, but it also makes sense when you consider Rodrigue is a skilled magic user and learned to make up for the royal family's lack of skill. Given his relationship with Dimitri Rodrigue at the start of the game, he probably refused to learn out of those feelings. Funny enough, the spells he can learn are the exact same as Dimitri.

Constance and Balthus's Budding Talents are the others most prized skill. And considering the DLC classes make use of both on some level, it implies these two have a pretty tight friendship.

Sylvain's also got a Budding Talent in Reason, just like Felix, who he is arguably closest to in the Blue Lions. However, the three spells he learns the exact same spells as Dedue and Mercedes. He and Mercedes share similar Crest related trauma and have a delightful paired ending, and Dedue and Sylvain come to a really good mutual understanding (I'm sad they couldn't have had an A support).

Speaking of Mercedes, her Budding Talent in Bows compliments her Crest's Sacred Weapon, Tathlum Bow.

Byleth has a Budding Talent in Faith, which makes sense given the whole Sothis situation. However, the only other person to have the same Budding Talent is Dorothea, who shares a similar yet different conflict regarding her faith in the Church, and where one of the best ways to increase Faith is Choir Practice, which Dorothea would excel at given her Opera background.

Yuri has a Budding Talent in Bows, which makes sense given his underground roots and at one time being an assassin. What's really interesting is Bernadetta's Budding Talent in Riding. Not only does it make it easier for her to escape (fitting of her character), but Yuri is allergic to most animals. Making her a Bow Knight ensures Yuri can never get the jump on her should he be hired to kill her again, though I doubt he would try, since he hesitated to kill her the first time all those years ago.

There's probably more that can be inferred but this is just some of my favorites.

👀

[garmgeyr]

It's clear by now that Miss Chiori's attitude barely fazes her indolent guide, and he chuckles good-naturedly as he settles onto the stool beside hers. While the rain hadn't exactly been pouring outside, it'd been just damp enough to settle into their clothes and hair. For Gallagher's part, however, it's barely made him look any worse than usual, and that might be why the redheaded young man hadn't even batted an eye at his bedraggled appearance. Or maybe that was simply the way this place was. After all, when the streets were so full of trash, could one really expect the people to be much better?

On the other hand, Chiori, despite the unfortunate conditions, had turned heads, and eyes from all around the restaurant furtively cast curious looks in her direction even now. Who was this well-dressed young woman in Gallagher's company? they wonder. Surely she belonged in the sweet dream, not here. If Gallagher is aware of the attention they're getting, he doesn't show it. Brushing his rain-soaked hair out of his face, he looks at her with curiosity tempered by some undercurrent of humor. This whole ordeal has been quite a delight for him, it says, not as one who loves to see others miserable, but as a collector of interesting stories.

"Nothing to eat, Miss Chiori? If I'm paying, you might as well take advantage of it, eh? Heh." He turns to the redhead. "Get us a Clockie pizza, with the Bygone special. And I'll have a glass of Pika Red."

The man smiles. "Sure, I'll have that right out for you." And then departs for the busy kitchen at the back of the house. Gallagher makes himself comfortable, sinking down against the back of the stool and settling his arms across his chest.

"Cozy, right?" he asks, throwing a glance toward Chiori. "The food's simple but you'll find it really hits the spot. It'll make ya feel alive again in no time."

But the soured look on her face and the way she seems to slump down on herself reminds him a little of a plant that's had too much water. Or not enough. He can't say he hasn't dealt with the withering sort before, but each of them have come with their own headaches, especially the handful whose intended destination had never been Dreamflux to begin with. With a sigh, Gallagher heaves himself up to sit up straight. It's time to drop the act and get down to the heart of the matter.

"Alright, well... I promised you some answers. First, I need to know some things about you though. Are you a proper visitor to the Land of Festivities?"

sleepie times

[mobius-m-mobius]

Happy Birthday David Tennant (ft. his impeccable style) 🥳💖 - April 18th, 1971

[x-i-l-verify]

Linked Universe Daemon AU Headcanons

WORLDBUILDING NOTE 1: The concept of daemons is borrowed from the His Dark Materials series. A daemon is a person’s soul manifested outside of their body in a tangible, physical form, which permanently settles into the form of the animal that most resembles them in character as the individual matures. Person and daemon are not separate beings, but two halves of one mental coin, which means that they each know everything the other does, thinks, and senses. Daemons are almost always the opposite gender of their person and have a distinct personality than the person to a certain degree, as person and daemon represent different aspects of the same whole. Touching someone’s daemon without their permission is taboo, considered a violation tantamount to rape in most cultures.

WORLDBUILDING NOTE 2: All Links have the same name for their daemon: Ellanharai (composed of the Old German elements ellan “courage” and heri “army”). However, because all the Links are their own person, their daemon’s form settles on something different with each incarnation. Just as the Links in the Chain go by different titles to differentiate them all, so, too, do their daemons. Links tend to settle early (12-13 years), as they generally know who they are and what they want from a young age.

WORLDBUILDING NOTE 3: The Dark World/Twili crystal magic combines someone and their daemon into one physical body. This new body has the form of the daemon but the gender of the person with size alterations or different markings/coloration and is controlled by the person, with the daemon part of their mind taking a backseat. For example, Legend is larger as a rabbit than his daemon usually is, and of course, her natural color is not bright pink. The lingering effects of this transformation only physically affect the person side of the person/daemon pair once they are returned to normal. 

---

SKY + PSALM (RED-CROWNED CRANE)

Red-crowned cranes are renowned for their lasting and affectionate pair bonds, having come to represent longevity and devotion in many cultures; they are cooperative and low-aggression birds, quite tolerant and relaxed around other animals, and only really become territorial and protective over their nesting sites and chicks.

Psalm is impatient, mischievous, and fierce. Sky is more easygoing, considerate, and gentle.

Sky and Psalm are very outwardly affectionate with each other, and both can often be found napping together in a patch of sunlight, Psalm resting her head in Sky’s lap or draping a wing over him. As the physically tallest daemon of the bunch, Psalm delights in teasing fawning over her smaller daemon sisters, especially the younger ones. She will often sit on someone and happily brood, and while some may outwardly protest, everyone secretly enjoys it.

---

FOUR + RHYME (ITALIAN HEBRAN HONEYBEE)

Four's daemon is an industrious, adaptable, cooperative, sociable species of honeybee, known for being assertive but not aggressive insects; they have a high threshold for what they consider threats, and will communicate using pheromones, body language, and vocalizations to make themselves as clearly understood as possible, but they will not hesitate to defend themselves if something is deemed a threat.

Four is empathetic, observant, passionate, and composed. Rhyme is the emotional, pragmatic, impulsive, competitive part of his personality.

Rhyme is usually kept in a protective case Four wears around his neck to prevent any harm from coming to her either in battle or out of it, due to her diminutive size, but he will happily let her out to stretch her wings when around people he trusts. While she is too small to outright cuddle with her sisters, Rhyme loves perching on their heads or burrowing into feathers or fur when it’s chilly, and she’s surprisingly expressive with her body language, though one might have to squint to see it.

When Four splits into his Colors, Rhyme also splits. Which means instead of one being in two bodies, they’re now one being in eight bodies. As in LU canon, none of the Colors is their own individual in this AU, merely a fraction of a larger whole. In turn, each iteration of Rhyme is an alternate part of each of the Colors, with Four’s soul fragmenting into smaller and smaller individual pieces the deeper you go down.

---

TIME + MELODY (SPANISH FARON MASTIFF)

While menacing in appearance due to their sheer size and bulk, Spanish mastiffs are actually known for being protective, affectionate, quiet dogs, with a long history of guarding livestock; they are patient, easygoing, and surprisingly playful, good with children and tolerant of other animals, though their strong wills and stubbornness make them a challenge to handle for first-time dog owners.

Time is authoritative, jaded, and stoic, while Melody embodies his nurturing, hopeful, mischievous side.

Melody can often be found at Time’s side with one of his hands resting on her head or back. As the largest daemon in the group paired with the tallest person, they make for quite the intimidating pair and are downright deadly in battle together. Outside of battle, though, Melody becomes a big teddy bear, utterly content to let her daughters sisters use her as a pillow or mode of transportation, quietly communicating all the warm care and tenderness Time is sometimes too awkward to openly express. She is the one who introduced the musical motif the other Ellanharais also adopted when coming up with nicknames for themselves.

---

TWILIGHT + ARIA (GRAY WOLF)

Twilight’s daemon is a social, cooperative, dedicated apex predator, who routinely work together to raise their young, defend their territories, and chase down their prey over vast distances; they are not overly aggressive and prefer to avoid conflict whenever they can, using body language, sent marking, and howling to diffuse tense situations and prevent costly fights between packs or individuals.

Twilight is focused, cautious, and opinionated. Aria is his easygoing, empathetic, people-pleasing side.

Aria instantly adopts most of the younger daemons in the group and dotes on them as much as they’ll allow. However, she turns into a big, besotted puppy whenever Time and Melody come into the picture and becomes adorably bashful around Malon’s pigeon daemon Rosamu. She is often found at Twilights right side, guarding his flank and watching his back while he focuses his attention on what’s in front of him. She also loves scritches and belly rubs and has nearly smothered Twilight more than once by sprawling on top of him too heavily while they sleep. While their initial transformation into Wolfie was traumatic and scarring at first, they have both grown to enjoy the occasional opportunity to truly travel, fight, and exist as one.

---

WILD + TRILL (WEDGE-TAILED EAGLE)

Wild’s daemon is a loyal, resourceful, resilient species of raptor that is often found alone or in monogamous pairs, but will freely cooperate together with groups of up to 15 other eagles to take down larger prey; they are straightforward and communicative with their vocalizations and displays and also surprisingly playful, wrestling or playing food games with each other.

Trill is Wild’s dutiful, reserved, focused side, while Wild is the impulsive, playful, lackadaisical side.

Trill is rather choosy with and to whom she shows open affection. She can be very standoffish, preferring to let Wild do the talking for both of them, but once she trusts someone, she will often become very chatty and physically affectionate. It is common to see her riding around or napping on Aria's back, but she has begun opening up more to the others as well.

Because Wild lost all his memories in the Shrine of Resurrection, Trill had become unsettled when they finally woke up, taking the most basic shape a daemon can take, normally only seen with very young children: a small, floating, glowing ball of golden Dust. As they regained their memories during Wild’s quest and discovered more about themselves, Trill began taking on some of their old favored forms before eventually resettling for good as her original settled form, the wedge-tailed eagle. Despite physically being the same, though, there’s still that distance between who they are now and who they used to be, most evident in how their personalities have seemed to switch; Wild used to be more serious, focused, and responsible, and Trill used to embody the impulsivity, rowdiness, and wanderlust he kept tightly tamped down for the sake of duty and appearances. Both of them are still coming to terms with how much they have changed.

---

LEGEND + LYRIC (EUROPEAN HYLIAN RABBIT)

Legend's daemon settled as a hardy, wary, sociable, territorial species of rabbit, able to survive and thrive in almost any environment; they are a keystone prey species, a vital part of almost any ecosystem they find themselves in, who must stay ever vigilant and rely on their speed, wits, and determination to stay alive.

Legend is blunt, private, and practical, while Lyric is the sensitive, sociable, sentimental side of him.

Legend has… a complicated relationship with his daemon’s form. He initially hides her away from the rest of the Chain out of paranoia and insecurity, keeping her in his pack at all times. What would Hyrule they think of the renowned Hero of Legend having a defenseless, soft little rabbit as a daemon? They would lose all respect for him, or worse, be disappointed. It isn’t until after the Twili crystal incident, and Twilight and Sky find out about Lyric’s form, that he starts to come out of his shell.

After the ice has been broken, Lyric leaps at the chance to interact with the other deamons more. She goads Aria or even Melody into games of chase, can finally properly pounce on Warriors’ daemon the next time she teases her, curls up into a little fuzzy ball with Hyrule’s daemon to nap, leaps up on Trill or Psalm or Wind’s daemon’s backs and coax them into giving her a ride, and holds Rhyme in her little paws to gloat that she finally knows a daemon smaller than her (Rhyme is not amused). She is the one who came up with the name for their group of daemons, which is a chorus, just like a group of Links is a chain.

---

HYRULE + CADENCE (YELLOW-BELLIED GLIDER)

Hyrule’s daemon is a small, nocturnal glider species that is selectively social, close-bonding, and expressive, utilizing a number of chirps, whirrs, whistles, and growls to keep away intruders and keep tabs on each other; yellow-bellied gliders are incredibly active, hard-working creatures, spending up to 90% of their time awake foraging, and they can travel up to 2 kilometers in just 4 hours through a combination of climbing and gliding.

Hyrule is independent, wary, and agreeable. Cadence represents his dependent, connected, feisty side.

Cadence is generally quite a skittish daemon, who can normally be found clinging wide-eyed to Hyrule’s back, shoulders, chest, or arms, or hidden inside his tunic or pack. She has not interacted closely with many other daemons in her time (fairies do not have daemons), so she is still getting used to the physical affection the others offer. She does not dislike it; it is simply a lot. But she is gradually learning to love being nuzzled, cuddled, and carried, and she greatly enjoys riding around on the other larger daemons.

---

WIND + SHANTY (MILITARY MACAW)

Wind settled just a couple months before the events of Linked Universe as a resourceful, gregarious, deeply loyal species of macaw; like all macaws, they can be quite loud, communicative, and expressive, and they have generally been described as having friendly, confident, playful dispositions, albeit with the occasional temperamental mood swing.

Shanty is Wind's meticulous, perceptive, down-to-earth side, while Wind is reckless, curious, and carefree.

As is befitting for a parrot daemon, Shanty spends much of her time perched on Wind’s shoulders or arms, though she does love being held and cuddled, too. She is still getting used to her settled form, and sometimes forgets she cannot shift like she once did, leading to some hilarious mishaps when she faceplanted on the ground trying to turn into a hermit crab, or one memorable instance where she nearly drowned while trying to become a yellowtail snapper. She gets very starry-eyed over the other demons and thinks all of them are the coolest for different reasons. She desperately wants to impress them and prove she’s just as badass as they are, so she can sometimes chafe under their well-meaning coddling.

---

WARRIORS + BALLAD (RED FOX)

Warriors’ daemon settled as the confident, dependable, independent red fox, the most widespread and successful carnivore in the world, found in just about every available habitat, from jungle to tundra; despite being mainly solitary, these animals have a complex social hierarchy and can be seen in a wide variety of group settings, with vixens sometimes coming together during the breeding season to help raise each other’s cubs, and their mates bringing them food and also helping parent the new cubs.

Warriors is shrewd, charming, and diplomatic, while Ballad is more brash, cheeky, and candid.

Ballad, while generally friendly and warm with the other daemons (especially the younger ones), is also strangely skittish around them. She is fine initiating touch or curling up for a nice nap around or with someone else, but if touched unexpectedly, she tends to either bristle, growl, and retreat behind Warriors, or go very still and quiet. She shies away from any human hands except Warriors' (and even then there are days he doesn't touch her directly). They bring to mind other hands. Slim, small, elegant, painted hands that hurt, that took, that tainted- ...It’s fine. She’s fine. They’re fine. Everything’s fine.

---

Resources:

Red-crowned crane analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=24990

Italian honeybee analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=23882

Tibetan mastiff analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=24552

Spanish mastiff information: https://dogtime.com/dog-breeds/spanish-mastiff

Gray wolf analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=23828

Wedge tailed eagle analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=26686

European rabbit analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=23718

Yellow bellied glider analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=24968

Military macaw analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=26591

Red fox analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=24946

Art belongs to @/linkeduniverse

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Always cracks me up when people who haven't seen much of Moomins characterize Snufkin as someone who is always very wise and mature and perfectly chill and who knows everything. Boy I remember you from the early books. I remember you wanted to call a boat "Lurking Wolf".

[szappan]

also today me and an exchange student i became tentative but earnest friends with over the semester realised we're probably never going to see each other again it's all so strange how quickly you can start missing people

[lisbonsteresa]

silly

[mockiatoh]

My biggest frustration with the left has always been the inability/unwillingness to work on making progress inside of the system while advocating for greater change.

I remember the first time I came to this realization.

I was nineteen, pregnant. We couldn’t afford to heat the house because we couldn’t afford the deposit to turn the gas on. It was miserably cold. The duplex we were renting was old and rickety and drafty. The window frames were messed up and there were cracks you could stick your finger through that were open to the elements.

Just, like, to give you an idea where we were financially. And this was better than we’d been doing before!

Anyway, I had recently started going to DSA meetings. And that month, they were talking about how a moderate democrat had successfully gotten a small increase in WIC benefits monthly. It came out to, like, $10 a month.

The members talking—mostly male, almost all doing decent—were scornful. The democrat should have pushed harder and gotten more, refused to accept anything until everyone else caved to their demands. I remember sitting there, quietly drinking the latte in the smallest size they had that I had bought with scrounged quarters, listening. Wishing it wasn’t held in an indie coffee shop because it was a luxury I really couldn’t afford, but it would be rude not to. Enjoying the coffee anyway.

I was one of the lucky ones who was getting that additional $10 a month through WIC. Even more exciting, we were now getting a voucher for the farmers’ market. I casually mentioned that WIC recipients would now be getting farmers’ market vouchers, too.

The guy who organized the meetings was a hard worker, passionate guy. Did something in tech.

He was like, “That’s the thing! These people don’t want farmers market vouchers. They want—” and he went on to describe a bunch of pie in the sky desires. That, yeah, sounded good.

But one. I was one of those people! A lot if the tamiles were super excited about it, myself included.

I had never been to a farmers’ market before. I tried arugula for the first time, a piece pulled from a bunch by the grower as he explained the flavor difference. I hadn’t known before then that different lettuce greens had different flavors, that it was more than just the texture and shape. I tried pesto, which delighted me. Goat cheese. I got three full pounds of strawberries for two dollars, since they were closing soon and the old man selling the berries got a kick out of me.

Anyway. It was like, you have a decent life. Not great but decent! The things that are life changing for me, for us… you already have.

The ten dollars at the grocery store made the difference between a meal of broken-noodles-with-some-half-horrible-pantry-scraps and a meal. It kept me full and healthy! And the additional farmers’ market voucher was world changing for me.

The democrat who worked for those things barely got them through. And it was means tested to hell and back. They weren’t able to get everything they wanted. But what they got made such a huge difference for me, for people like me.

[herunswithscissors]

I love how Spongebob doesn't lie to kids about cops.

All the cops are kinda assholes and some are downright abusive and scarily sadistic and grossly oppressive and unjust. They just smile and tell jokes while they do it so the adults never notice and the kids don't get scared. But it plants the seeds of truth in them before the copaganda can really take hold with Paw Patrol onward.

[catchastarorten]

—“This one’s mine.”

Pairing: Hwang Jun-ho x VIP!fem!reader

Summary: after being pestered by your own brother, you agreed to accompany him to the island to watch the games, only to find yourself helping a waiter—Jun-ho—who was being eyed by a creepy panther-masked VIP.

Warnings: your sarcasm, mentions of death/violence in Glass Bridge, your brother is a VIP, brother & sister bickering/you put him in his place because he's being annoying, the VIPs—panther masked VIP being a weirdo, you save Jun-ho tho, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!

Word count: ~ 2.6k

The golden fox mask felt heavy on your face, pressing against your skin in a way that made you want to rip it off and toss it across the room. But that would be improper, wouldn’t it? A VIP must maintain decorum. At least, that’s what your insufferable little brother kept reminding you.

Speaking of him, he was sitting beside you, his wolf mask barely concealing the delighted smirk on his face as he leaned forward, watching the players stumble and fall to their deaths on the Glass Bridge. He laughed—actually laughed—when a man made the wrong choice out of the two and jumped, crashing through the wrong glass panel, screaming all the way down.

You sighed, swirling the drink in your glass, watching the liquid catch the dim light. It was infinitely more interesting than the so-called “game” before you.

How had you let brother dearest drag you here? Oh, right. He had whined and pouted and gone on and on about how you never did anything fun with him. You had rolled your eyes so hard it was a miracle they hadn’t gotten stuck in your skull, but against your better judgment, you agreed.

And now here you were, surrounded by a bunch of snobby men—your presence wasn’t nearly enough to balance out the testosterone levels—draped in velvet robes, sipping on the finest liquor, and betting on desperate people fighting for their lives.

You suppressed a yawn.

“This is so much better than another charity gala, isn’t it?” your brother drawled, nudging your arm. “You have to admit, this is real entertainment.”

“Yeah, watching poor people die really warms the heart,” you said dryly.

“Don’t be such a bore, sis,” he said, rolling his eyes. “This is tradition. You should be honored to be here.”

Oh, you were honored, alright. Honored that your parents left everything to him, making sure he had enough money to play dress-up with his rich little friends while you had to fight for your own wealth. Not that you needed their inheritance, but the principle of it still burned. He got to be the spoiled prince while you had to claw your way up in the world. And now here he was, wasting it all on cheap thrills.

The Glass Bridge game was nearing midway. The players were hesitating, trying to strategize their way across. The VIPs around you were buzzing with excitement, shouting bets, clapping, drinking like it was the biggest sports event of the decade. But all you saw were walking corpses, their fear so thick in the air it nearly masked the expensive cologne in the room.

You took another sip of your drink, letting the burn coat your throat.

“At least pretend like you’re having fun,” your brother whined. “People are gonna think you’re some kind of a… prude.”

“Oh no.” you responded mockingly.

He huffed, crossing his arms like a petulant child. If there was one thing he hated, it was not getting his way. You could practically hear the gears turning in his spoiled little mind, trying to come up with a way to make you enjoy this, but his thoughts were interrupted when the other VIPs erupted into cheers and groans. You just exhaled through your nose, staring at the mess.

It was the players on the glass bridge, arguing, too afraid to jump. One shoved another forward, out of desperation or malice. The man screamed as he plunged to his death.

“Ugh, finally,” your brother muttered. “I hate when they hesitate. Just jump, you cowards!”

You turned your head slightly, studying him. Did he even realize how pathetic he sounded? Lounging in a silk robe, sneering at people who had nothing? He wouldn’t last a minute in their position.

“You should play,” you mused, tilting your head. “Next year.”

He snorted. “Please, I would dominate these games.”

You smiled behind your mask. “Would you?”

Your brother scoffed. “You doubt me?”

“I know you,” you said. “And you wouldn’t make it past the first round.”

He looked genuinely offended. “I’d make it to the finals, at least.”

You leaned in, voice dropping. “Tell you what. If you join next year, I’ll bet against you. Just to make it interesting.”

He rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath. But you saw it—the flicker of doubt, of fear. As much as he enjoyed watching, he knew very well he would never survive playing.

And that? That was the only entertaining thing you’d seen all night.

A moment later, your eyes flicked toward the Panther-masked VIP, whose frustration over losing a bet had quickly turned into something much more unpleasant. His focus had shifted from the game to the waiter standing stiffly beside him—a waiter who, you observed, wasn’t moving quite like the other servers.

You weren’t an idiot. The way that waiter hesitated when he was called, the way his shoulders were a little too tense, the way his hands remained perfectly still as if not used to serving—it all screamed of someone who didn’t belong.

That was because he wasn’t really a waiter, it was Jun-ho disguised as one, though you didn’t know that. He had taken down one of the servers moments before the VIPs arrived on the island.

And now, the Panther-masked VIP was ordering him to sit beside him and take off his mask.

Jun-ho—recognizing the sharpness in his tone—tried to resist, his voice calm. “I need to serve the other guests, sir.”

The Panther VIP scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. “Oh, come now, the others won’t mind if I keep this one for myself, will they?”

A chorus of laughter and amusement rippled through the room, the other VIPs agreeing without a care—“he’s all yours!” one of them laughed. Your brother even chuckled beside you, raising his glass as if this was all just another part of the entertainment.

You, however, did not find it amusing.

Before Jun-ho could be forced into something he clearly wanted no part of, you lazily raised your hand and gestured toward your glass.

“I need a refill,” you said smoothly.

Jun-ho’s eyes darted toward you, wary but sharp, understanding immediately that you were giving him an out.

Your brother groaned, shifting beside you. “Come on, sis, let him have his fun—”

Your hand shot out, swatting him hard against his arm before he could finish his whining.

He yelped, rubbing his arm. “Ow! What the—?”

“Shut up.”

He opened his mouth like he wanted to argue, but the look you gave him through your golden fox mask was enough to make him think better of it. He slumped back into the couch with a huff, grumbling under his breath.

The Panther-masked VIP tsked in annoyance but didn’t say more as Jun-ho bowed his head slightly and stepped away from him, making his way toward you. You could see the tension in his shoulders ease, if only slightly.

As he reached your couch, he carefully took your glass and poured you another drink, his movements slow and precise. Up close, you could see the way his jaw was set tight, his eyes flickering with restraint.

You leaned in slightly as he finished pouring. “You okay?” you murmured, just loud enough for him to hear.

Jun-ho hesitated for the briefest moment before nodding once. “Thank you,” he said quietly, placing your glass back into your hand.

You didn’t reply, just took a slow sip while he stood beside the couch you sat on.

However, the weight of the Panther-masked VIP’s stare was suffocating. You didn’t even have to look to know that he was still watching Jun-ho like a predator eyeing its next meal.

Annoyed, you turned your head ever so slightly, locking eyes with him through your golden fox mask. You raised your glass in a slow, mocking salute before downing the rest of your drink in one smooth motion.

The message was clear: Back off.

Unfortunately, subtlety was wasted on men like him.

“Come back here,” the Panther VIP drawled, waving his fingers in a lazy command at Jun-ho.

Jun-ho’s grip on the bottle in his hands tightened slightly, his body as still as a statue. It was subtle, but you caught it. He didn’t want to go back over there.

So, before he could even think about stepping forward, you reached out and grabbed his forearm, holding him in place. Your fingers pressed firmly against the fabric of his uniform—a silent message that he could stay with you.

You sat up straighter, your voice cutting through the noise.

“This one’s mine.”

The room went quiet for a beat.

Jun-ho stiffened beside you, clearly taken aback. You didn’t mean it in the way it sounded—he wasn’t a possession. But these men only responded to power plays, and if that was the language they spoke, then fine. You’d speak it fluently.

Your brother let out a low whistle beside you, his amusement clear. “Ohhh, big sis is getting bold.”

You didn’t even hesitate—your palm struck his arm again with a sharp thwack.

“Ow!” he rubbed where you smacked him.

“Shut up,” you muttered, leveling him with a glare. “If you don’t stop embarrassing yourself, I’ll give you a real beating in front of all these people.”

He grumbled something under his breath, soothing his arm, but he didn’t push it further.

The Panther VIP, however, was not so easily prevented. “Come now,” he chuckled, though there was irritation beneath his voice. “You can’t hoard all the fun.”

“Sure, I can,” you replied dryly.

A few of the other VIPs laughed at that, enjoying the exchange. The Panther VIP let out a breath through his nose, clearly displeased, but he wasn’t about to pick a fight with another VIP. That was the unspoken rule—annoyance was fine, but outright challenging each other was bad form.

Jun-ho turned his head slightly, just enough to glance at you. You met his eyes for a brief second, and then you stood up, keeping your grip on him firm.

“We’re leaving,” you announced.

Your brother groaned. “What? Where are you going?”

You didn’t even look at him as you responded, voice utterly monotone. “Somewhere that isn’t here.”

More amusement rippled through the other VIPs, some watching with interest, others indifferent as they returned their attention to the game. But as you turned to leave, you felt it—that silent, looming presence watching you.

The Frontman.

He didn’t say a word, didn’t move to stop you. He simply observed, his masked face unreadable.

You met his gaze for a long moment before turning away, leading Jun-ho out of the room. No one stopped you. No one dared to stop you.

And just like that, you stole the only honest man in the room away from the wolves.

The moment you got him alone into a dimly-lit, empty room, you could feel the tension radiating off of him. Jun-ho wasn’t stupid—he knew he didn’t belong here, and he knew that you knew. His shoulders were taut, his breath controlled but just a little too shallow, and his hand was subtly reaching for something. A gun, maybe. A knife. Whatever he had managed to smuggle in.

You raised your hands slowly, showing you had no weapon, no ill intent. “Relax,” you said, your voice calm, softer even. You let go of his arm, stepping back to give him space. “I’m not going to turn you in… or whatever you’re thinking right now.”

Jun-ho’s sharp eyes flickered with suspicion. “And why should I believe that?”

“Because if I was planning to sell you out, I would’ve done it back there.” you tilted your head slightly, crossing your arms loosely. “Would’ve let that old man have his fun.” you said with a hint of distaste at the thought.

That gave him pause. He studied you, his gaze flickering over your golden fox mask, as if trying to gauge whether you were lying, or just the need to understand why a supposed VIP was helping him. You didn’t blame him for being on edge. This entire place was a slaughterhouse dressed up in gold. If you were in his position, you wouldn’t trust anyone either.

“You don’t belong here,” you stated plainly, watching for his reaction.

“And neither do you.”

That actually made you laugh, just a short, soft chuckle. “You’re not wrong.”

He hesitated. Maybe because your mask didn’t hold the same predatory amusement as the others. His fingers twitched, like he was still deciding whether to draw his weapon, but then he let out a slow breath.

You sighed too and gestured toward the door. “You should go. Before someone actually does come looking for you.”

Jun-ho didn’t move right away. He just stood there, looking at you like he was trying to solve a puzzle. And for a brief moment, you could tell—he wanted to ask.

Who are you?

Why are you helping me?

What’s under the mask?

But he didn’t ask. He just gave you a small nod before slipping out the door, disappearing like a shadow. You shut the door.

You exhaled, rolling your shoulders as you turned back toward the empty room. Not even a minute later, a knock came at the door. You raised an eyebrow, opening the door, meeting the presence of a square-masked guard, who stepped inside.

“The Frontman sent me to check on you,” the guard said, his voice hollow under the mask. “Where’s the waiter?”

You gave him a blank look. “What waiter?”

The guard straightened. “The waiter you left with.”

You tilted your head, voice dry. “Oh. Him.” you shrugged lazily. “I got bored. Told him to get lost.”

The square guard didn’t buy it. “Where did he go?”

You sighed, as if this was the most exhausting conversation of your life. “Am I his babysitter?”

The guard didn’t move. He was pushing. You didn’t like being pushed.

So you took a slow step forward, closing the space between you and the guard. He stood his ground, but you could feel the slight hesitation in his stance as you slowly backed him up against the wall.

When his back hit the surface, the shift in atmosphere was instant. You weren’t loud. You weren’t aggressive. But the weight of your presence—the empty, unreadable calm of someone who knew how to lie—was enough to make the guard tense.

You tilted your head slightly, a slow, empty smile forming under your mask. “What exactly are you suggesting?” you murmured, voice smooth as silk. “That I’m hiding something?”

The square guard stiffened.

“Because that would be a very bold accusation to make against a VIP,” you continued, voice dropping to something almost sickly sweet. “And you wouldn’t want to insult a guest, would you?”

There it was—the slight shift in his posture, the hesitation and hint of nervousness.

“I—”

You stepped back, your fake smile still in place. “Good talk,” you said dryly, dusting off your robe like this was nothing more than an inconvenience. “Tell the Frontman to send someone more competent next time.”

The square guard didn’t argue, he just quickly stepped away from the wall, stiffly nodding before leaving the room without another word.

You sighed as the door shut behind him, rubbing a hand against the side of your neck.

This whole thing had been a drag, but at least you’d managed to do one decent thing tonight.

[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!