#it is better to have love & lost than to have never loved at a

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

One hell of a team | In-ho x Wife!Reader |

Summary: You will follow your husband anywhere.

Warnings: S2 Spoilers - Violence - Different back story for In-ho - Blood - Death - Use of (Y/N) - Reader gets called "love" -

The Frontman, the man with the most power within the island, to who the guards obey without question.

Was currently trembling under his wife poited look.

"You want to enter the games?" You asked him, your tone cold and almost jugdmental.

In-ho calmed himself down. It was an idea that stayed with him after the death of the Chairman and even mor with how player 456 had insisted the last two years in finding them. He had played before and won, he knew how terrible others could be, he had walked out like a new man, used the money for himself and you. Never really gave much thoguht on how life were lost.

But, for some reason he wanted to go again.

"Im going with you"

His glass of wisky fell onto the floor, the loud crash did nothing to bother you while you ate.

"No, thats not happening. I need you here to control the games and guards" In-ho started trying to get a valid reason to why you defenetly should not come.

"Oh, you need me to? Well I need you here. With me. With our family. How do you think I would do seeing you there ? I still remember how you got when you came back from these the first time"

"That was different" The Frontman said taking a deep breath "I wont be just one more player, it will be like when the Chairman went in"

"That still does not ease my mind" (Y/N) responded "Till death do us a part and follow you anywhere" you recited showing him your weeding ring. "Remember?"

In-ho felt his chest got thight at the sight and the memory of the small yet full of love weeding you two had back when life was more simple.

"Alright, you can come with me. Its not like you would wait for my approval" he responded smiling at the end "But no one must know that we are married, you understand that ?" He added now serious

"Of course, its what makes more sense, we will just casually meet there and see how it plays" You nodded to him "And please, better clean up that glass before someone steps on it"

"On it, love"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

For the most part pretending not to know each other was easier than expected. While you knew the guards knew who you two were you were still a bit scared. Specially during the green and red light, since both of you had got separated and now you were froze in your spot.

"You need to move" In-ho said from behind his arm playing along "Follow me in the next sing, alright? Just take my hand"

"Im scared, im sorry" You said feeling guilty over wanting to be there with him and starting to fail on the first game no less.

"I know, I was too. But im here, just follow me"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

You had to hide your smirk when he pressed the circle to go on with the games, you knew he would do it just to piss off Player 456 and make things more cahotic.

He went with the rest and stood besides you trying himself not to smile at you.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The first approach to Gi-huns team was tense to say the least. You two had voted circle and even worse In-ho had been the vote that ended the tie.

But with his own charisma and yours you two got to be on his good side.

Till In-ho decided to talk, really you sometimes forgot who sassy he could be.

"And some picked umbrella?" He asked faking suprise when he had seen it on first hand. "Most of them died I assume"

You could see the look on player 456 and decided to be more sensitive

"Hey, dont be like that. Im sure they went in blind and did not know what it was about" You said keeping a safe distance so no one would think you two were together or knew each other before the games.

In-ho was having too much fun.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

That first night they both were in their respective beds. Still keeping their false relationship. However once (Y/N) was sure all were asleep she went towards In-ho who was awake like he knew she would be coming to him.

"Are you alright?" He asked in a whisper, worried that for her this would be too much.

"Im fine, I wanted to see if you were fine"

He nodded not saying a thing but taking her hand.

"Also, I saw you break that fight, really ? When did you even learn to do that ?" This made him smile and hold her hand thighter "Really! I only see you in your office all the time"

"You think I would come in here without knowing how to defend myself or you?"

She smiled at him, blushing in the dark. "No....I just thoguht all you did was be in your office and give orders"

In-ho rolled his eyes "Just wait till we are out of here, i will show you just how fit im"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The six legs game was both a chaos and funny. Honeslty you could not help yourself on hugging him and player 456 (who was slowly getting on your soft side) as you saw a team win.

However the shoots that came for these who did not survive were too much. You would swear In-ho gave the guards a cold stare because you would flinch sometimes.

"Hey, dont worry they wont shoot the ones who havent played" Player 456 reassured you with a calm tone

You nodded, knowing that even if you lost they wont shoot you or In-ho. It was still sweet to see him trying to calm you down.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"Not a word" He said during the night when you two were able to talk again.

"I was not going to say a thing, but you did in on purpose or were you really missing ?"

In-ho closed his eyes knowing you would later get the recording of him missing during the game and use it against him.

"It was all planned" he said trying to sound as convincing as he could.

"Whatever you say Honey"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The game of making pairs gave you nausea because of the carousel kept spinning around. And the rounds were stress again. The worse part was getting separated from In-ho who find you seeing how two players were dragging you so they could have the number they needed.

You havent see him get that angry in years, his protective self being on as he pulled one from the neck and punched the other one.

He kept punching almost forgetting there was a game you two were supposed to play.

"Leave him we still need two more" You urged only for a guard to shove two confused and scared players besides you and In-ho.

"We got them" He assured getting your hand and going to one room.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"In-ho!! (Y/N)!!" The worried screams of Gi-hun filled the place as he looked for both of you.

Even if he had promised to try and dont get attached to new players and survive he could not help but feel a connection with both of you.

"Gi-hun!" In-ho's voice called making him look over and see him coming towards the rest with you by hand something that made him curious but decided not to ask.

"Im glad to see you two alright" Gi-hun said seeing just a few bruises on you, and noticing blood on In-ho knuckles.

You catched his eyes and went to explain "He saved me" you told the rest looking at them then at In-ho who was looking back at you "I would have not made it otherwise"

The look of love you two shared was so genuine, some wonder if you two were together but trying to be discrete to protect yourselfs.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"They will most likely attack us tonight" Gi-hun explained as he showed the fork the guards had left when the food was given.

The idea only assented itself when the men returned from the bathroom, with blood on them. 

"And what do you propuse us to do?" In-ho asked all of the Xs were in a circle trying to listen to what Gi-hun had to say.

Gi-hun told the others his plan, honestly you thoguht it was nusts, it wont work. They were far suprassed on numbers but you had to shut yourself up.

You could tell your husband was both amazed by it and even kind of respecting it. Or at least that what he showed to him. He needed Gi-hun's trust after all.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"Hide well" In-ho said besides you in a low tone "We can trust the guards but till they get here we cant trust the others"

You nodded knowing that very well since this was a typical phase of the game for years.

"We will be safe" You said holding his shoulder. "Do what you have to do, dont worry about me" You tried to make him feel at ease but he could not. The only thing that scared him more than anything were the other players trying to get to you.

"Just hang in there" He responded his forehead against yours.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The fight was on its hot spot. The players were killing each other without a second thought.

Nothing like living it, even if you have seen this type of thing multiple times. Its was unnerving to see them just going at each others troath. The screams and cries were too much for a moment, the dark did nothing to help.

Thats when you felt it. Someone had dragged you out from under the bed and was now on top of you. You saw the player move their left hand ready to Strike at you. You tried to punch and defend yourself but the person on top was too strong.

A cold scream left your mouth as the forker pierced your shoulder.

You could not help it, the adrenaline and anxiety was getting on you.

"In-ho! In-ho help me please" You screamed for him, your husband the love of your life.

"Shut up, the next one will be your neck" The person said and for a moment you saw it. Dying in here and leaving In-ho.

Till you felt the person being pushed and the screams of them. You blinked trying to make sense.

It was In-ho, he had taken the fork from the player and was now piercing the neck of the player, not even leaving a chance for them to survive.

"GO HIDE NOW!!" In-ho ordered, he being scared himself and angry. He saw red when you were dragged and it was for the brutal grip Gi-hun had on his arm that he did not move faster.

You did as told getting under another bed and making sure no one could reach you.

"You fucking scum! How dare you lay hands on my wife" In-ho almost screamed too angry to see that the player was now dead. All his face and hands where covered in blood.

"Stop it!! They are dead, we need to continue the plan, the lights will be back soon" Gi-hun said taking him and pulling him away from the dead player.

"Get (Y/N), and be ready" Gi-hun told him trying to keep himself calm even when he was close to jump over and save you and In-ho. He wondered if he had hear it right, you were his wife?

In-ho did not waste time, searching for you in the dark till he noticed you. He went quick, pulling yourself out from the bed telling you its was him.

"Shh shh its me, its over dont cry Love" He said trying to make you feel better.

"In-ho?" He nodded and you cried harder "In-ho I was so scared"

"I know love I know, just a bit more alright? It will be over soon. Listen once the guards come in and we follow Gi-huns plan do not come. Someone will come and get you"

"Im going with you, im not leaving you in a bullet fight!"

"You know nothings gonna happen to me, I want you here, safe, alright?"

Finally you accepted.

"I love you In-ho"

"I love you too Love"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

As In-ho had said when the guards got back after the fight one took you, Player 120 tried to protest but was put back in her place by other guard.

"You are under suspect of have been part of the riot. You are now eliminated from the games"

The guard said playing his role, starting to get you out of the room while you screamed following the act.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

"Apologies Madam, orders from the Front Man" The guard said bowing once you two were outside and out of reach from the others players.

Even if you were still breathing hard you nodded. "Dont worry, just take me to him". The guard nodded.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

He knew he was needed in the control room but refused to let you alone like that. He went to your share room, his heart broke at your image, bruises and blood over you. A guard was checking your shoulder but left after he order them to.

Silence fell over both of you as he went to you and hugged you careful not to hurt your shoulder.

He removed his mask to look at you properly.

"Im sorry, I should have never let you come, I should have stopped this sooner" He said with pain in his voice

"Dont blame yourself, I told you I was going in with you. This was not your fault In-ho" You reassured him feeling sad and worried over him.

"I cant not blame myself" He gently passed his hand over your cheeck "You are the best thing in my life and I almost lost you because of my own desires, never again"

You two kissed softly grounding yourselfs. You two were safe and together nothing else matters from now. Only the love and devotion you two had for each other.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

[loveliluc]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ to carry a dragon’s love ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐

— ft. neuvillette, zhongli

synopsis — you’re their precious little mate, and how much more perfect you’ll be when you’re carrying their seed; 1.5k words.

— minors do not interact! unprotected sex. breeding. mating. marking. they have draconic anatomy. double penetration. fem!reader.

— neuvillette 𝜗𝜚

sharp teeth sink into your shoulder and you mewl into the plush pillow. the ache of them in your flesh paired with the way his cocks lodge deep inside of you has you lost somewhere between pleasure and pain. you’re gripping the sheets until you’re knuckles turn white. you’re drooling and your hair is wild around your head; you’re an absolute wreck under him now.

neuvillette’s hips crash against your ass in a loud smack, your slickness adding a lewd wet sound to the action that makes your cheeks burn hot. you hear him grunt from behind you. “you will be the end of me, my love.”

he’s not fairing much better than you, in truth. his breathing is labored and his thrusts are erratic. he’s not the normal neuvillette you’re so used to seeing; no, he’s much more carnal now, so much more like the dragon that he is. he’s fueled by his most primal of instincts, the tight wrap of you around him urging him to take you, utterly and completely.

“neuvillette,” you cry his name in that saccharine melody he adores so much, the one that melts his heart and makes his cocks twitch against the confines of your walls.

“when you say my name like that, my love, i simply cannot help myself.” and the next thrust into you is brutal and bruising and so deep your breath is knocked from your lungs. he’s fucking you with a purpose, fucking into you so right that you’re sobbing into the pillow.

you know what he’s wanting, what he’s after, and you’re almost unraveling at the mere thought of it.

he’s all too aware of the squeeze of your walls and he groans, muffling the sound with another bite to your shoulder. it’s already marked, and he just can’t help but revel in the fact that’ll be days before it leaves your pretty skin. “you are close, yes?”

you attempt a nod and a small, broken moan that resembles the word yes.

“how perfect you are for me, my love.” neuvillette is flush against you, pressing you deeper into the mattress while his hips maintain a ruthless rhythm, urging you closer and closer to your climax. “do you still want it? please, tell me you do. tell me you still want me to mate you, breed you.”

his voice is deep and gravelly yet tender, and his words are so lewd that you whine underneath him. you know his dragon nature has taken over, you know it’d be practically impossible for him to not breed you now, to sink his seed so deep into your womb with a promise to gift you a child, an offspring. but above all he always wants your approval, and you’re so thankful for that.

“yes,” you hiccup, back arching and ass attempting to meet his hips with little thrusts of your own. a way to show him how eager and willing you are. “i want it. please neuvillette!”

the sovereign above you grins with elation, his hands gripping your waist as he increases his thrusts to a bruising pace; but even with the wild way he takes you, you still feel love in every kiss of his cocks against the deepest parts of you, every squeeze of his palms against your skin.

“you will be my lovely mate, so beautiful pregnant with our young.” he’s close, achingly so. he’s driving into you deep and hitting the sweetest of spots until you’re shuddering under the weight of your orgasm.

you cum with a cry of his name and tight squeezes around his cock. it’s maddening, the pleasure he gives you, and it’s heightened by the promise of his seed, of what it means to be taken so wholly by your mate.

neuvillette is close behind you, reaching his own completion with a guttural groan that echoes against the bedroom walls. he empties himself within you, stilling his hips to plug your holes so that not a single drop goes to waste. you’ve never felt so full in your life.

in your post orgasm state, you barely register the way he kisses all the marks he left behind, soothing the aftermath of his desire. “you did well, my love.”

you breathe as his hands caress your frame. “i love you.”

and oh, how he loves you, his most beautiful mate. his one and only.

— zhongli 𝜗𝜚

“relax, dearest. you are doing so well for me.”

the soft baritone of your lover’s voice fills the space between you and you feel your muscles ease at the sound immediately. zhongli coos while his large palms soothe at the plush flesh of your thighs, careful of his long claws against your precious skin. he pushes your legs open even wider to allow his hips to drive in deeper and you keen when he seems to reach beyond what you can even fathom, broken mewls spilling out of your kiss-swollen lips.

“ah, that’s it. so perfect,” the godly being groans above you at the tight squeeze of your walls around him; he’s got you filled to the brim with both of his large cocks, and they sit heavy and hot in the wet depths of you.

you whimper when he shifts your hips upwards for better leverage. he settles your thighs at his waist while his hands grip even tighter into your hips. he slides even deeper into your weepy holes and all you can do is lay against the sheets and take what he gives. “zhongli, my love, please. i’m so full.”

zhongli’s hips retract before springing forward to offer you swift thrust. the clap of skin resounds in the air of your bedroom and it’s so beautifully lewd it makes your walls flutter. he’s looking at where your bodies are joined with the upmost adoration and love, amber eyes bright and so incredibly soft with fondness. “feels wonderful, doesn’t it?” he palms at the evident bulge in your tummy; he doesn’t miss the way you shudder under his hot touch. “you feel divine. so immensely perfect–” a thrust, “–around me.”

he presses forward, your thighs giving way as his larger frame folds yours in half. he mouths down your cheek to your neck, sharp teeth pricking playfully at your skin until you’re whining out. he’s so much deeper like this, in this mating press he’s now got you in. he thrusts and you swear the force of it shakes you to your core.

“going to breed you,” zhongli says lowly, voice gravelly and rough as he begins to lose himself to the way you wrap around his cocks. “my perfect little mate. you’ll take every last drop of my seed. won’t you, my dearest?”

your mouth opens to reply but oh how your lover likes to tease, driving his cocks deeper at the same time as you begin to speak; instead of words, the most helpless cry tumbles out of your throat.

teeth sink into the flesh of your neck hard, leaving behind a mark that’ll remain for the days to come. “you’ll be so beautiful pregnant with our child, all round and full. don’t you think so?” zhongli picks up his pace suddenly and your body rattles underneath him, crystalline beads falling down your cheeks as you grow overwhelmed. “tell me, you’ll let me make you wholly mine, yes? be the best mate and mother of our offspring.”

your mind is so full of cotton and pleasure and his words do nothing to help you, wearing you down until all that remains is the most vulnerable parts of you. you, your body are his. you give yourself to him completely; you wish to say it, to tell him, but in this state all you can manage is a broken, “yes!”

he’s pressing a languid kiss against your lips, swallowing your cries of bliss before his tongue slips its way through your lips, laving at your wet mouth with its forked tip. it’s messy just like what lies between your thighs where he enters you, over and over and as he fucks you closer to your completion. you’re so pliant and malleable for him as he molds you to his desire.

there’s a clawed thumb against your clit and your body jerks at the spike in pleasure. you’re so sensitive and overwhelmed with pleasure and his cocks and just him entirely. “zhongli, gonna cum!” and it’s all the warning you can offer him before you’re breaking under the weight of euphoria.

the god above you groans when you go rigid beneath him, holes so tight and wet around him. “good girl,” his hips stutter as he nears dangerously close to his own end. “my precious, perfect girl.” he fucks you through the last remaining moments of your orgasm, hips urgent as he seeks his own pleasure. you wail at the overstimulation, one of your small hands grasping at the golden marks on his bicep.

and just as he promised, he fills you with his thick seed, flooding the depths of you until it begins to seep around the base of his cocks. his body shudders under the immense pleasure, hips rocking once, twice before he stills completely.

“mine,” a kiss to your temple. “all mine.”

nat’s notes — was very much in my feels for these two dragon men thus this was created! also wanted to commemorate a successful banner for these two as it now nears it’s end. so happy to be a neuvi and zhongli haver. hope everyone had a great time, and got the character(s) you wished for! <3

[skipper1331]

you wish you were me // Leah Williamson

a/n: inspired by this iconic performance

Your friend group was out in the local bar, celebrating a birthday. Your mate had just turned 26 and in her eyes, every birthday was there to celebrate it, so that‘s what you did.

You had a lovely dinner at her favourite restaurant and were now down for some drinks.

So here you were in a bar between the smell of alcohol and sweat, playing a card game.

"Wanna spice things up?" your best friend asked with a mischief grin.

"Tell me" the birthday girl replied, very interested in what your bestie had to say.

"Don‘t even listen to her" you argued when the suggestion came that who ever would lose the next card game had to do karaoke, "and the winner is allowed to choose the song"

But there was no point in arguing because everyone was loving the idea.

-

"Oh come on" you huffed as you lost while the other girls cheered.

"This will be fun" your best friend laughed as she ordered some more shots. You surely would need them. You couldn’t go on stage as sober as you were right now.

Drowning the next two rounds of shots, you stood up, the winner whispering the choice of song in your ear, so it‘d be a surprise for everyone.

Thankfully, it wasn‘t an awfully long song nor even a proper song. It was 'You wish you were me' by Trish which she sang in the series 'Austin and Ally'

I can deal with that, you thought, I wont see most of these people after this anyway.

Walking towards the karaoke guy, your best friend talked to him, your nerves on a rise. So many eyes looked at you.

your friends cheered, "Go girl!!" enjoying themselves very much while you were about to run. You hated being the centre of attention.

Fuck it

"You‘ve got this" y/bsf/n said, handing you the microphone, walking back to where your friends sat.

Weirdly when the music started playing you felt relaxed, in that moment the motto “yolo” was all that mattered.

"I‘m so much better than youuu" confidence starting to rise, "I’m a ten, you‘re a two" signaling with your hands your words.

"I‘m a queen, you‘re a fool" you pointed a random person in the bar who was a blonde girl, her friends cheering and gasping loudly before they started laughing.

"I‘m a throne, you’re a stool" you walked and danced on the stage, not caring at all, "you‘ll never be this cool"

"No-Ooh"

"I sing to you on this stage"

"I‘m at the top of my game"

"I‘m a star and you‘re lame"

once again you pointed at the blonde girl.

You grabbed some coins out of your pocket, "I‘m cash and you‘re change" dropping them on the floor.

"You‘ll never have my fame" you sang

not knowing that the blonde woman was actually someone fame, someone who had captained her country to the European championship and winning the trophy.

"So-Ooh"

"You wish you were me"

"Got everything you need"

"Got no time for jealousy"

"I, I"

Slowly the song came to an end, "Yeah, you wish you were me" being the last sentence before you did a mic drop and hit a pose.

The whole bar started to cheer, happily amused by the performance.

Quickly though, you picked up the mic, embarrassed about the move, sincerely apologizing to karaoke guy before you hurried back to your friends.

"That was awesome!" the birthday girl yelled, "best birthday ever!" hugging you.

And just as that the night continued.

"You have an admirer" your best friend whispered, nodding her head in the direction of the blonde who you‘d pointed at the whole time.

"I think she‘s about to kill me" you brushed her off, taking a sip of your drink.

"No, look at her, she‘s been eyeing you all night. Go talk to her!"

"What? No. Do you want a drink? I want one" you changed the subject, already getting up.

"Your glass is half full"

"No it‘s not" and with that you left.

Pah! As if the blonde woman was seriously not thinking about killing you yet you had to admit, she was gorgeous. Maybe you should apologize-?

You were about to order another drink when someone next to you beat you to it, "put whatever she wants on my tab, please" the person said, that person being the blonde woman, "that was quite a performance, aye?"

"Oh no, you don’t have to-" you tried, happy to pay for you own drink or maybe pay for hers (?) - you didn’t know.

"I want to. I’m Leah, Leah Williamson and you are?" she smiled, her smile so genuinely that maybe, just maybe she didn‘t want to kill you.

-

"Aye, Mrs Williamson, you wanna sing a song for me?" Leah mocked, pulling you into her grasp.

"Baby! I apologized for that already several times" you whined, the defender peppering kisses to your cheek.

"What can i say? If it wasn't for the song, I wouldn't be able to call you my wife today"

[yourmidnightlover]

bucky that’s loves you and is desperate to please and have you any way he can…

!!!18+!!!

“tell me what you want, and i’ll give it to you,” he strains out as his cock is slowly rutting in and out of your pussy.

you grasp his metal hand that was on your tits, living the cold sensation it has, and drag it down your stomach to your clit, “please? i need it so bad, buck.”

“holy fuck,” he swears he has to start reciting old shakespeare in his head to not cum on the spot. “you’re so fucking good for me, doll. feel so good on my cock. tell me you love it, tell me you love my dick inside you.”

“i love it so fucking much, james,” one night is all you had agreed to with him. but with the way you said his name, not his nickname, not his last name. his first name.

god, he never wants to pull out. if staying inside of you will make you say his name like that again, he’d happily oblige.

“please don’t stop,” your hands moved to cup his face as his fingers continued to deftly work against your clit. you angled his face to look at your own, the eye contact forcing bucky to test his own stamina, question his ability to keep his fucking shit together.

the woman he’s wanted for so long. the woman he’s pined after for damn near two years, beneath him, saying his name in a way he’s only dreamed of, and looking at him in a way that’s better than he’s ever imagined.

“i’m not gonna stop,” his thrusts became harsher and deeper as your moans and whines became louder. “i’m not gonna stop until you cream all over my cock. gonna fuck you until i cum in this perfect fucking pussy. after that, i’m gonna fuck my cum back into you. not a single. fucking. drop. going to waste.”

“‘m so close,” you now rested bucky’s forehead against your own. with a high pitched whine, you wrapped your legs around his waist, licking your ankles together. “‘m gonna cum, oh my god! oh my god! please don’t stop, don’t you dare fucking stop. don’t pull out - need you to cum in me, jamie. need you to fill me up, please. oh fuck, please fill me up jamie! i need it so bad!”

“oh shit,” his hips were slamming into your pelvis as he pushed you over the edge, your eyes lost in his own before they began to roll back. your pussy quivering around his dick that made him question why he didn’t just propose to you on the spot. “that’s my fucking girl. i’m fucking cumming. i’m cumming in you, doll. holy fucking shit you’re so good! ung-fuck!” his hips kept moving on their own volition, fucking his cum that wouldn’t stop right back into your cunt.

his head moved from yours to your neck, the light sheen of sweat covering his body forgotten as you keep your legs wrapped around him. all that can be heard is your heavy breaths and heartbeats, now in sync, bucky notes.

he gives himself a few more minutes to relish in this moment with you. no fears, worries, no outside people to pressure the two of you in any way. once all other factors were removed, it was easy to be with each other.

after he decides that he needs to help clean you up a bit, he’s sure to be very gentle as he runs a warm washcloth over your sensitive pussy. he runs a bath - somehow at the most perfect temperature - and is sure to rub your shoulders with amazing pressure. it’s those damn hands… you always knew they’d be amazing.

and after drying off, the two of you don’t mention the fact that things will have changed between you two. you simply accept the others company - even if it might just be for tonight…

but, if it were up to bucky, he’d have you any way he can get.

[webanglikethat]

Inho and Gihun have consumed my brain: a rant.

their dynamic is absolutely insane, like watching two halves of a broken mirror slowly shift toward each other, each reflecting something so raw, so !! unbearably !!! human !!!

they are opposites in the most obvious way: one, a cold-blooded killer who thrives on power, privilege, and pain (though they both come from a similar background); the other, a man haunted by his own humanity, stubbornly holding on to the last shred of his moral compass, believing in a better life, a greater future.

but it’s the tension between them that burns — the way they orbit each other, drawn together by something darker than either of them is willing to admit. and it drives me insane, insane I tell you.

Inho studies Gihun like a predator; he is disguised as an ally, draped in the mask of sympathy and empathy, but every moment spent with him … it’s like watching a snake move through tall grass, its every flicker of movement calculated, controlled and designed to ensnare, trap, conquer, destroy. he watches his every more, everything he does and he doesn’t do. it’s a real time dissection !! he watches Gihun's cracks, his weaknesses, his flickers of anger and despair. every subtle movement doesn’t escape him.

he needs to see that part of him, the part that’s been broken, the part that still hurts. and in a way, he’s intoxicated by it. it’s like he wants to drink from those wounds, to feel the sharp, stinging taste of anguish on his tongue, to experience that pulse of pain, just so he can savor it, dissect it, and make it his own.

he watches Gihun not because he’s merely intrigued, but because in his suffering, in his brokenness, there is beauty. a beauty that can only be savored when torn apart, shredded, dissected, bruised. and the more he watches, the more he feeds on that agony, the deeper he falls into the nightmare of this endless fucking twisted game.

Inho is too far gone. he’s lived through the games, seen how the system works, and he’s embraced it without shame. to him, the so called “blood money” he earned is a truth. he doesn’t hide from it. he doesn’t pretend it’s anything else. he has seen too many bodies pile up to think there’s any other way. Inho believes the only way forward is through destruction. he’s accepted the curse of the games. hell, he’s fucking embraced it ! the lives lost are nothing more than fuel for his ascent to power. people are pawns, and pawns don’t matter. it’s all part of the game.

Gihun, though… he’s not like Inho. he too has been brutalized by the games, crushed under the weight of the world’s cruelty, watching as the lives of those he loved dimmed. BUT! even so !! there’s this flicker of light in him — a really fucking stubborn and desperate hope to protect those who still live, to undo the wrongs. for all the pain he’s endured, he hasn’t completely surrendered to the darkness. he’s been pushed, stretched to the breaking point by the horrors he’s witnessed, by the blood shed that he can never wash away and still lingers even in his dreams … but there’s this part of him that still fights to hold on to the fragments of the man he used to be. he’s so stubbornly human.

and yet, it’s not the break that Inho is after imo — it’s the collapse. he doesn’t just want to see Gihun’s humanity crack; he wants to see him fold. he wants to make him question everything, even his need to protect others, even the value of his own moral code. to descend into madness, forsaking logic.

you can see him being fascinated when Gihun agrees to sacrifice people for the greater good. I swear, you can see Inho alive in that moment. I can’t explain it other than he’s feeding on him. he’s watching this man, so different from him, with scars that shine the same way, who once held onto some semblance of hope, succumb to the same darkness that devoured him.

he wants to see the man who refused to let the games destroy him finally fall into the same dark logic that built those games in the first place.

but here’s the thing — Gihun’s resistance, his refusal to just surrender to Inho's desires, drives him insane. Inho, for all his power, for all his twisted thrill at orchestrating this, isn’t immune to that same hunger. he sees Gihun as both a reflection and a challenge. it torments him. he wants to unravel him from the inside. the more he watches, the more he understands just how much it is tearing at him, how much he wants it.

there is a tenderness to it, a chilling, perverse tenderness, where one offers the illusion of safety while the other inches closer to the slaughter.

what drives me insane is that Gihun doesn’t know. he doesn’t know that the man he’s grown to trust, the one who’s quietly listened to his every confession, who has offered him that flicker of human connection in the desolate wasteland of the games, is the very demon he’s been chasing. the one that has orchestrated every nightmare he’s endured. and every time Gihun speaks of his mission, of his burning desire to kill the one who created this nightmare, to undo the games and get revenge Inho just listens intently, relishing in every moment of vulnerability.  and it’s delicious. Gihun is literally unraveling before him, piece by piece, and Inho hasn’t even revealed the true extent of his power!

the betrayal scene is going to be so good. SO FUCKING GOOD. it’s when Gihun talks about revenge, when he plans to end the game, to kill the person behind it all, that Inho feels that twisted thrill in his chest. because what Gihun doesn’t realize is that all those plans, all those quiet declarations of death, have been heard and they’ve been absorbed, broken down, and processed. Inho already knows what Gihun is capable of, what he’s willing to do, and how far he’s willing to go to get his revenge. it doesn’t matter to Inho. it never has. he’s already five steps ahead. Inho has studied Gihun like a surgeon carving through flesh, patiently unraveling his soul, savoring each fragile thread of hope only to tighten the noose, knowing that the moment Gihun’s trust shatters, so too will his humanity.

-> and like … Gihun’s humanity is his greatest weakness. his desperate hope to protect, to save, to make things right when he couldn’t before (example: in season 1 when a dying man reached for him and he looked away, in season 2 he helped a dying man) that's what Inho sinks his teeth into, because he knows that in this world, hope is the ultimate poison, the biggest gamble. every moment Gihun spends clinging to the idea that he can save anyone, that he can stop the game — that he can stop The Frontman — it draws him closer to the truth that will eventually shatter him.

and imo — Inho watches him with a twisted admiration, because in that desperate struggle, he sees himself or rather, the version of him that could’ve been if he had not embraced the game so fully. and in that, their paths, though seemingly different, are always converging. they are the same in the most brutal way: two sides of a coin, both marked by the same blood, the same violence, the same emptiness, and in the end, they are not so different after all. for all their differences, in the end — they are mirrors.

addition cause I saw this post and omg ?? it’s an intentional, almost possessive move. he’s not just playing along with their conversation; he’s LITERALLYYY replacing Jungbae with himself in Gihun’s mind, stepping into the role of someone who belongs in Gihun’s future.

Inho doesn’t just want power or control over the situation — he wants needs Gihun to need him, to see him as the one who’s always there, the one who understands him, the one who can stand beside him.

and to me, it feels like a possessive kind of longing that goes beyond mere rivalry or control. it’s ugh — just the way they orbit around each other, the way Inho needs Gihun to acknowledge him, to see him as more than just the “other guy that joined my team”.

and as much as Gi-hun is fighting to hold on to his humanity and the relationships that matter to him, Inho is just as desperately fighting to be the one that Gihun turns to in the end. it’s obsessive. it’s possessive. it’s dangerously romantic and I need them to fuck it out.

[azmageddon]

Silence (Part Three)

Pairing: Azriel x Cassian’s twin!healer! reader

Summary: After Amarantha wounds you in the worst way for an Illyrian, the silence of your mate on the other side of the bond stirs memories of how your relationship began.

Warnings: Brief mentions of blood and wounds. Azriel being an ass in this one. One swear word (I think?) . Also painfully inaccurate to the original storyline.

A/n: Personal life took over, honestly. But I am so insanely excited for this one. I wanted something that would create somewhat of a background story for reader and Azriel's relationship and to kickstart the beginning of UTM. Let me know what you think! Always open to requests on how this series should go, so if you have any suggestions let me know! I'd love to hear them!

***

There was a pull. A gentle one at first, but still, a slight tug at the center of your chest. It seemed to beckon you toward the house.

The feeling was fleeting as the sharp sting of a wooden sword struck the side of your leg. 

“Come on, Y/N! You stink at this!” came the voice of your twin brother through the momentary fog. You shook your head to clear it and turned back to him as quickly as your ten year old body would let you. 

“Ow, Cassian!” you whined. “That’s not fair!”

You lifted your own toy sword to strike back, but the pull in your chest came again; so sharply this time that you actually stumbled forward. Embarrassingly for you, Cassian had seen it and let out a laugh at your clumsiness. 

“What’s wrong with you, Y/N? You’re being weird today. I don’t want to play with you if you’re not going to play right.”

With a mighty leap, you pushed your wings out, catching a few inches of air and effectively pummeling your brother. The two of you rolled around in the dirt and leaves, throwing fake punches at one another and ruining your clean clothes. After a few minutes of play fighting, the two of you sprang apart. 

“Ow! You made me cut my hand!” Cassian moaned, turning his palm to face you as a fresh trickle of red blood dripped to the ground. “Fix it!”

You rolled your eyes at your brother and stuck your tongue out at him. “Make me!” With that, you tore into the forest, Cassian fast on your heels. 

Quickly approaching the edge of the trees, you risked a peek over your shoulder to see that Cassian was quick and gaining on you. Before you had the chance to turn back around and sprint even quicker, you ran directly into the path of something hard. 

You practically bounced off the hard object, hitting the ground with a pile of dust coating you. When you looked up to see what you had run into, you could only stare in horror at the Lord of Windhaven. 

“L-Lord Devlon,” you stuttered, shaking where you cowered at his feet. “I’m sorry…I…Cassian was chasing me and I…I didn’t mean to…”

With a large hand, Devlon gripped you by the hair and pulled you to your feet. You let out a soft wince at the pain, knowing better than to cry out. It wasn’t long until Cassian was at your side again. 

“Lord Devlon, I’m so sorry, my sister is so clumsy she didn’t-“

But the Lord of Windhaven lifted a hand to Cassian to silence him. With an audible gulp, your twin took a small step back. 

“I didn’t see you at training this morning,” Devlon sneered at your brother, his unnatural calm causing goosebumps to prickle along your arms. It was either from that, or the firm grip he kept on the roots of your hair. You didn’t dare squirm, knowing there would be hell to pay if you did. 

Redness crept up Cassian’s face at the confrontation. He was so excited to show you everything he’d learned over the last few weeks that you’d both lost track of time and caused him to miss his training schedule. 

“Children!” came the soft voice of Rhysand’s mother. She emerged from the shadow of the trees and immediately at the sound of her approaching, Devlon resealed his grip on you. The Lord of Windhaven never took an order from anyone, let alone a female. But even Devlon wasn’t stupid enough to argue with the mate of the High Lord. 

“Come meet our new friend,” she continued, gently grasping your hand and pulling you away from the male. Having provided you with shelter when Cassian and you were homeless, she had become something of your own mother. With a quick glared warning at the male, she pulled you and your twin away.

“I’ll see you at training tomorrow, boy,” Devlon called after the three of you, and you felt Cassian shiver in fear at the promise of a torturous session the following day.

When you were finally out of earshot, Rhysand’s mother rounded on the two of you. “Children! You know better than to provoke Lord Devlon. And Cassian, to miss training? I’m very disappointed in you.”

Cassian’s ears reddened in embarrassment, but you were barely listening. The tug in your chest was growing stronger with each step closer to home. You took your free hand, the one that wasn't gripped in the hand of Rhysand’s mother, and rubbed at the center of your chest. The tugging sensation didn’t subside. 

Finally, as the trees cleared and your adopted home came into view, you could see Rhysand bouncing excitedly alongside another child relatively the same age. 

“Children, this is our new friend.” Rhysand’s mother released you and took a few steps toward the boy whose back was turned to you. “Azriel, dear, won’t you come say hello?”

Azriel turned slowly, hazel eyes downcast and hands clamped tightly behind his back. You noticed small tendrils of smoke floating around his tightly drawn wings. 

“I'll leave you four to get acquainted.” Rhysand’s mother took a few steps up toward the house, patting her biological son on the top of his head before turning to you. “Dinner prep in ten minutes, Y/N.”

You nodded, understanding your role as an Illyrian female was to cater to the males, no matter their age. 

“Hello,” you whispered to the new boy named Azriel. At the sound of your voice, his eyes snapped to yours. The moment they met, the tug in your chest exploded. You imagined a thread, golden and long, reaching out from the center of your chest toward him. 

Before you had the chance to say anything, Rhys began chattering away. “Azriel says he’s never flown before. Can you believe it? An illyrian that’s never flown! I can't wait to show you!” As his childish prattle continued and Azriel’s gaze returned to the ground, you leaned into your twin.

“Cassian,” you whispered, only for him to hear. “I think Azriel will be my mate one day.”

***

You groaned as pain shot down your back. For a brief moment, you opened your eyes. You were laying on your stomach in a bed that wasn’t your own in a room that you didn't recognize. You had just been dreaming, something about the first time you had met Azriel. But before you could reach out toward his side of the bed, you fell back into unconsciousness.

***

“I will come back to you, I promise.” Azriel tightened his arms around you as your silent tears stained his leathers. You shook your head against his chest, refusing to loosen your grip on him.

“You could be killed, Az,” you choked through your tears. “Isn’t there any other way?” You knew that this was a fate you couldn’t change, the Blood Rite being a tradition for centuries, maybe even millennia. There was no changing tradition. 

Azriel pried you from himself, pulling your fingers off of his leathers and holding you at arms length. He had to crouch down to be on your level, him being nearly an entire head taller than you. Lacing his fingers through your hair and using his other hand to tilt your chin up, he forced you to make eye contact. 

“Listen to me, Y/N,” he began, his hazel eyes practically begging for you to listen. “I will not die out there. Rhys, Cassian, and I will come home. I will come home to you.”

You hiccuped a sob and nodded your head, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling yourself closer. Dropping your foreheads together, you closed your eyes and took a shaking breath. For years you had kept your secret from Azriel. You’re not sure why you wouldn’t tell him that you knew he was your mate. Maybe it was fear of rejection or just bad timing, but you swore to yourself that if he returned from the Blood Rite you would finally share your secret with him.

“I want to…” he whispered, but cut himself off. 

You opened your eyes and saw his hazel ones were on you, darting back and forth between your lips and your own eyes. 

“I’ve never…” you started but stopped as well, embarrassed to admit you’ve never slept with another person before. To you, there was only Azriel, only your mate, and it was never something you ever gave a second thought to. 

But Azriel smirked, dropping his gaze and looking slightly sheepish. “Neither have I,” he whispered back. 

Before long, the two of you were tangled in each other’s arms, sheets thrown aside and gasped moans as you frantically fumbled for each other. 

When you awoke the next morning, Azriel was gone, as well as every other male Illyrian warrior set to partake in the Blood Rite that week. 

***

“Azriel,” you groaned, attempting to shift from your facedown position on the unfamiliar bed beneath you. 

“Take it easy, Y/N, you’ve lost a lot of blood.” The voice was familiar, deep, and you cracked an eye open when you felt the cool feeling of a damp cloth slide across your brow. 

Except it wasn’t Azriel that wiped at your head. Rhysand kneeled eyelevel at the side of the bed. You could see the multitude of emotions swimming behind his eyes: regret, pain, anxiety, and sadness. 

You tried to shift again, but agonizing pain shot down your back. You stifled a scream by practically shoving your face into the pillow. You felt the cool hands of your High Lord tracing shapes across the burning muscles of your back, and the pain slowly ebbed away.

“What happened?” 

Rhysand didn’t respond at first. You could tell he was avoiding your gaze and kept his eyes downcast. Cautiously, you craned your head over your shoulder to see what could be causing the burning pain that you felt.

Nausea rolled through your stomach and you felt your vision darkening along the edges at the sight. What was there, or worse, what wasn't there, had you swallowing your bile and jumpstarting your breathing. 

“Oh gods,” you croaked, and felt your vision and consciousness failing you again. Right where your once strong and beautiful wings stood were mere gaping holes of blood and raw skin. All traces of what made you Illyrian were gone. 

***

You pushed through the crowd, searching frantically for the one male you longed to see. A week away from him was entirely too long; not knowing if he was dead or alive had made the time away even more difficult. 

Pushing through unwashed Illyrian bodies, you eyed every one you passed. Having just returned from the Blood Rite, the throng of people was thicker than ever. Some warriors were triumphant, slapping each other on the back and loudly sharing their stories of revenge and kills. Some were injured, quickly being carried away to the healing tent - a place where you knew you were supposed to be at this very moment to await their return. You couldn’t help yourself, though. All week you had imagined this moment: telling Azriel your secret and reuniting in a world of bliss, happiness, and happily ever after.

After a few minutes, you spotted three familiar faces. You signed a breath of relief. A quick scan of the three showed minor scrapes and bruising, but no life-threatening injuries. 

“Azriel! Cassian! Rhys!” you called from across the sea of people. Knowing their fae hearing would pick up your call, three pairs of eyes shot in your direction. But there was only one pair of hazel that you immediately locked on to. Setting into a run, you flung your arms around your mate, the sheer force of your body forcing him to stumble a step back.

“What, no hugs for your own flesh and blood?” Cassian grumbled from behind you.

You ignored him, nuzzling your face into Azriel’s chest, reveling in the familiar scent that washed over you. Albeit, a bit stale and dirty, but still familiar all the same. 

“Az, I was so worried about you,” you breathed into his skin. 

Instead of responding, Azriel just cleared his throat and peeled you off of him, this time settling you a few feet away and taking a step back.

“Right,” he responded, avoiding your gaze.

The joy you had felt at seeing him return safely fizzled in your chest and went out, replaced now by anxiety and confusion. A quick glance at Rhys and Cassian showed the two males were equally confused. However, Azriel offered no further explanation.

A crushing squeeze from your twin and a soft hug from Rhysand later, you ushered the two home to bathe, rest, and eat for the remainder of the day. 

“I’ve left plenty of food in the kitchen,” you called to them as they turned to leave. “Just leave some for your brother, too!” The two waved over their shoulders as they set off toward home, indicating they had heard you but giving no promises that there would be anything left for the third male in their trio.

You turned back to Azriel, who stood in the same spot, still avoiding eye contact at all cost.

“Az,” you began, taking a step toward him and reaching out your hand to grasp his. He flinched at the movement and looked around wildly, almost as if he was hoping no one had seen your attempt to touch him. He quickly pulled away and folded his hands behind his back and out of your reach. You dropped your arm and felt the pang of rejection shoot through you. “Are you okay?” you asked. 

“We need to talk,” he muttered but said no more.

“Yes,” you agreed, your voice now quiet and small. “We do need to talk.”

You waited a few moments where the two of you stood there in silence, neither one willing to begin the conversation. You wondered if he knew, if Cassian had told him that you were his mate. Cassian was, afterall, the only one who knew your secret, and you couldn’t imagine what a week of surviving in the wilderness brought out of people.

As you opened your mouth to confess your secret, Azriel opened his, too. For a heartbeat you both stood there, mouths open, poised to speak your truths. 

You quickly closed yours and motioned a hand to him. “You go first,” you said, secretly grateful you had a few more moments to regroup your thoughts.

“I can’t give you what you want,” Azriel admitted, finally locking his gaze with yours. When you didn’t respond, he seemed to gain his confidence and continued his explanation. “I know what you want from me, and I can’t give it to you. I spent the entire week out there thinking about you and begging the Mother to bring me back to you. But the Blood Rite changes people, Y/N. Cassian, Rhys, and I -  we made it to the top. We reached the summit and touched the monolith first.” He paused, brushing a hand through his hair before running it down his face and letting out a huff of frustration as he attempted to explain how he felt. 

“I have a role to play in this camp. In this army. I can prove myself here, and I can’t focus on that if you’re…” he hesitated, seemingly trying to find the words that expressed exactly what he was trying to say. 

But you didn’t need him to finish. You understood loud and clear what he was trying to say. He didn’t know the truth of the mating bond. Cassian had stayed true to his promise to keep it a secret until you were ready to reveal it to your mate. What Azriel was admitting to you was worse. Much worse than you ever could have expected.

“You’re breaking up with me?” you asked, holding back the tears that threatened to spill over.

“Am I, though?” he said, one eyebrow shooting up in question. “I mean, we’ve always been friends and you were a good fuck, but I’d hardly say we were together.”

His words sliced through you worse than any blade could ever have done. You took an involuntary step back. You pushed the tears down completely, resolving not to cry in front of him and humiliate yourself even further. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but this is how I feel. I have the opportunity to make something of myself for the first time in my life. I can’t risk losing that.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. It was your turn to avoid eye contact and you looked anywhere but at the face of your oblivious, beautiful, cruel mate.

He sighed and reached a hand out to you. The mountains and valleys of his skin intertwined with your own fingers. He gave your hand a tight squeeze in an attempt to relay his apology.

“What were you going to tell me?” he asked. You could tell he was finished with the conversation, wanting nothing more than to escape your presence.

You shoved the mating bond aside, vowing to yourself never to open it again. You didn’t know if you could stand another second of Azirel’s emotions rushing into your soul unbeknownst to him. Pulling your hand out of his, you took a step back, hardening your heart to the man you had come to love more than you ever thought possible.

“I’ve had a job offer as a personal healer to Rhysand’s father,” you said. “He offered me a place in his court. I’ve accepted the offer.” It was a lie. You did have a job offer from the High Lord, but you had planned to reject it in lieu of the mating bond. But as that future seemed to be a distant hope now, you knew that staying in Windhaven was no longer an option. You intended to write to the High Lord tonight and travel to Velaris in the morning for your new post. 

Azriel smiled, a tight incline of his lips that never reached his eyes. “That’s great, Y/N. I’m so happy for you.”

“Right,” you said, repeating his words back to him. 

***

Rhysand was cleaning your wounds as best he could with the limited supplies he had, which was virtually nothing. A few buckets of clean water and strips of his undershirt he had torn apart to dress your back.

“How did you heal me?” you asked. Rhys had magnificent healing powers, ones that practically rivaled your own. But you knew, from the moment that Amarantha’s wine touched your lips, you had both been rendered magic-less.

“I made a deal with her,” he responded, pressing the clean rags into your back and mopping up the blood that had freshly oozed from them. He took a moment to roll up his sleeve and show you the fresh swirling tattoo that encircled the entirety of his left wrist. “In return, she gave me a fraction of my powers. Just enough to ensure you wouldn’t die.”

You reached your arm out to touch your fingertips to his new tattoo when you hesitated. Glancing at your own extended wrist, you saw that you bore twin markings. 

“What was the bargain?” you asked, dread flooding your body now that you had discovered that somehow, you were involved. 

But he shook his head, tucking your arm back in the blankets and pushing his sleeve back down. “Not now. I don’t want to talk about it now.”

Finishing his work on your back, you felt the mattress dip as he sat beside you. “Are you going to tell me about Azriel?” 

Grief flooded you. You reached out across the bond and tugged as hard as you could, harder than you ever had before. But once again, that golden thread led into nothing but darkness and silence.

And so, you told Rhysand everything.

Words and tears came pouring out of you. You told Rhys about the day you met Azriel, how you had felt the mating bond snap at ten years old. You told him about losing your virginity and the heartbreak that led to your employment in Velaris. You told him the story of how Azriel had found out about the mating bond, when it had snapped for him, and the betrayal he felt of being left in the dark. You talked about your private mating ceremony, the frenzy, and the years the two of you snuck around, vowing to each other never to reveal your secret. 

When you finished, Rhysand contemplated your story. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

You sighed, knowing this part of the conversation was unavoidable. “Cassian knew,” you offered, knowing it would add nothing to your explanation.

“Why not tell me? Or Mor? To keep it a secret even from us; that seems extreme and honestly, a little hurtful. Two of my best friends have been sneaking around behind my back and the third had known all along. It’s hard to be the last one finding out.”

“I’m sorry, Rhys.” you shifted in the bed, uncomfortable from laying on your belly for so long. You reached a hand out to his, lacing your fingers together and staring at the twin tattoos that bound you together. “Azriel has a lot of enemies. Being a Spymaster comes with a lot of risk. We both knew that if the world had found out about us, my life would have been in danger. We thought we were doing what was best by keeping it a secret. Azriel said he would never be able to sleep at night, or go away on assignments, knowing I was at risk.”

Rhysand nodded, squeezing his fingers tightly around yours. “I understand now. I’m sorry you felt like you had to keep it a secret. I’m the one that puts Azriel on dangerous missions. I’m the one that asks him to… take care of the prisoners. I never thought these things would be such a hindrance in his life.”

“No, Rhys,” you assured him. “Az would do anything for you. He loves you. If anything, our secret was proof of his undying loyalty to you and your court.”

The two of you sat in silence together, grateful that if you had to be stuck as a prisoner to Amarantha and her sick, twisted, fate, you were at least stuck together. 

“I promise,” Rhys began, “I will return you to Velaris. I will return you to your mate, no matter what it takes.”

***

Taglist:

@a-new-romantic @tiredsleepyhead @olive-main @saltedcoffeescotch @lunajay33 @st4r-girl-official @lilah-asteria

[sylus-doll]

Synopsis: The things Sylus is afraid of and the one thing he isn't. Despite everything, it's still you.

Warnings: Mentions of death.

Author's note: A little headcannon of sorts. Comments and reblogs are appreciated. <3

Sylus is afraid of you. He understands better than anyone the effect that you have on him. If others think he is smitten, then he will say that he is devoted. No one is able to comprehend the yearning for your touch or the love that he harbours for you. It feels like sin devouring him whole; clawing its way through his heart and into his throat. Worship threatens to spill, his vessel not nearly enough to be capable of containing it. But he keeps silent, lest the overflow scares you away again.

Sylus fears that you might leave him. He can tell that you are still wary of him, and he cannot fault you for it. After all, was he not the very reason you are still this guarded? The nature of him— of his environment— makes him observant. He sees apprehension in your eyes and how it causes your body to tense, locked by your bones. Watches patiently when your voice trembles, when you hesitate to choose. And because he has already mastered being attuned to you, he simply waits.

He doesn't doubt that you will choose him. You have done so before, and you will do so again. He is still your Sylus, your quite literal soulmate. For you, he will have the patience of a saint.

Occasionally, you catch him in a disheveled state.

“Do you know what a mirror is?” Sarcasm rolls off your tongue— second nature. But your hands are gentler, more honest. You card a hand through his hair, sweeping his silky locks into place.

He only gives you a half-hearted smirk. Cocky thing. Sylus chalks it up to knowing that he's good-looking, reflections be damned for it will never do him justice. Yet that's not the case. He doesn't tell you about how that shopkeeper's words linger in his mind. And since then, Sylus tends to avoid mirrors. He knows that he is being irrational; he does not appear as a Fiend in this life. But how could he look at himself knowing that you were or might still be disgusted by him?

“On a subconscious level, she's either rejecting you, scared of you, or... Disgusted by you.”

Above all, Sylus is terrified that he will lose you without choice. Yes, you can leave him, ask him to not pester you anymore. And he will respect your decisions. He will fulfill your desires, as he always has, even if it means to tear him apart. But he cannot fathom the idea of your life lost to tragedy and mocked by whatever gods care to gaze upon you both. He defied fate before and he continues to do so all for you. By any means necessary, he will give you the life you demanded all those lifetimes ago.

The only thing that Sylus does not fear is death. He will jeopardize himself, put his body on the line because he cannot die. You made sure that he couldn't, so why not use that to his advantage? Excruciating pain is a price he is willing to pay for the comfort that he will die by your hands. This one solace, can grant him this mercy. Is it not comforting, to know that the only fate he cannot defy is his beloved's loving hands torment?

[jenniferpendragon]

Listening to "Would You Fall in Love with Me Again?" and I wondered why on earth I connected so deeply with Odysseus here when I've been connecting with Penelope so much, and then it clicked.

Massive spoilers below the cut, and also mentions of sexual assault and image issues.

Odysseus has become the monster, that's what "Odysseus" is about, his final culmination. He is everything he's fought and hated and killed. He has murdered a *baby* at the command of a god who told him if he didn't, the gods would have the child destroy his family. His best friend died because Odysseus, out of extreme guilt, indulged his ways too much. His own desire for a better world and to give mercy, fueled by guilt, caused his mentor to leave him and left an opening for future pain. His pride turned his cunning into dust. He watched men he had fought for ten years to save from dying in war be drowned in a storm because of his damn pride (and his brother-in-law and second-in-command's greed and mistrust). He then nearly lost all of his remaining men at the hands of an enchantress. He is forced to hear the screams of his dead comrades and come face to face with his dead mother in the Underworld who died waiting for him.

Odysseus then murders gods know how many sirens (rightfully so, but still), and then sacrifices six men to a sea monster for safe passage. His remaining men mutiny against him (understandably on the crew's side, not so much for Eurylochus) and then decide to eat the sacred cattle of Apollo, which gets the wrath of Zeus down upon them.

Odysseus then decides that his wife and son are more important than his remaining men and lets them be killed for their misdeeds. He is then trapped for years (and possibly sexually assaulted, reading between the lines) by a woman who wants to replace his wife while the demons of his past and his guilt and trauma cause him to nearly commit suicide. Once freed from the island and Calypso, he fights another sea monster with just his wits and then nearly dies by a god before torturing Poseidon until he gives Odysseus the safe passage he wants. After all that, he (rightfully) slays the suitors who were planning to rape his wife and attempting to kill his son. They beg for mercy, but the Odysseus that gave mercy to the cyclops that murdered his best friend is dead. Only a monster remains. A man who tortured gods stands before them and judges them for their crimes.

And his son is ecstatic to have him home, is wondering if Odysseus would accept him as "weak" as he is, as if Telemachus isn't the perfect "warrior of the mind" Odysseus always wanted to be, a combination of Athena and his younger self's viewpoints. Odysseus, the monster, sees one of the two things he still loves in the world and exercises those open arms because this is his son. His love for him is unconditional and unchanging.

Athena, beaten and recovering and full of empathy for the first time in the ten years since she left him, sees the Odysseus before her, the monster and cunning warrior she was attempting to turn him into, and accepts what he is, what he's become because of her. And while she loves him, she doesn't show him love. Just acceptance and quiet friendship (which is more than fine, but it does nothing to his heart about his monstrosity).

And then he comes to Penelope. The woman he has turned into someone unrecognizable for. Someone even the goddess of wisdom regrets. His son loves him, but it's because of the monster he has become. His son never knew him, never knew who Odysseus was at his core. Athena did, and she regrets what happened to him, what he became. But Athena wasn't who he was fighting for. He wasn't the one thing that kept Odysseus alive for twenty years of hell.

And he comes to Penelope, heart on his sleeve and says "I'm not the man you knew. I have done terrible things. I have become a monster inside and out. Would you fall in love with me again?"

He doesn't ask "do you still love me?". He doesn't think it's possible. He is a monster. He not only signed the death warrant of his sister's husband but threw a child, a baby, off of the walls of Troy. Odysseus doesn't believe himself worthy of the love he is asking for. He needs it with every fiber of his being because that is what he has craved for two decades, but he is a monster. He is not the kind and gentle husband who carved a wedding bed into an olive tree so it would be a living reminder of their everlasting love. He is a man who sold the souls of his men to a monster to get home.

Odysseus is amazingly, beautifully human, but by many metrics, he is a bad man. His actions can be justified and rationalized, but he has committed atrocities or allowed them to be committed (Achilles' desecration of Hector's corpse, opening the gates of Troy for the people to be slaughtered in their sleep, sentenced men to death so he could go home, throwing a baby off the walls of Troy) and he can't be called a good man (his actions in "Odysseus" aren't monstrous but they reveal his mindset) in a measurable way.

I wouldn't go so far as to call him evil like I would Antinuous, but would Odysseus? Yes. He believes he is a monster. Monsters are something to kill, not worthy of love.

But he asks. He asks Penelope if she would fall in love with him again. Not if she still does, he doesn't ask for that. He has loved no one else in these last twenty years, but he doesn't ask for that from Penelope. He's asking for a chance. Would she be willing to love the monster that has come home in her husband's place? Would she be willing to look upon him, with the blood of an infant on his hands, with the blood of an entire people on his hands (they would never have sacked Troy and committed genocide without him), and choose to fall in love with him anyways? That is what he is asking. Could you love me, as evil and monstrous as I am?

And what does Penelope do? She asks him to move their marriage bed. He's not her husband? He's a monster? Fine, a monster wouldn't care about destroying their wedding bed, the symbol of their marriage, to get what he wants, a new start from her. A monster wouldn't care that he would have to tear out the roots of their eternal love to have her now. A monster wouldn't have second thoughts.

But Odysseus is hurt and angry at her essentially asking for a divorce from the man she married, revealing the secret of their marriage bed in his shock and rage. A monster wouldn't give it a second thought, but the man she married could never move that bed for anything.

And she tells him that only her HUSBAND knew that, so that makes this monster he claims to be her husband. Penelope doesn't just agree to fall in love again, but that she doesn't care how, where, or when, because he is HERS. He isn't a monster that has replaced her husband, he IS her husband.

She does not look at him and see his sins. She looks at him and sees someone she has loved and waited for for twenty years. Someone she was ready to die a violent death rather than live without.

Odysseus believes himself to be a monster, to be evil. And Penelope says he is her husband. He is hers. He is not some evil monster, he is her husband who would never even think about moving their marriage bed. He thinks he is evil, too much, too monstrous, and she says no, you are MINE.

I've always felt like I'm a horrible person and worthy of the pain and punishment I get. But hearing someone love someone else unconditionally, looking upon them and saying "I don't see your sins; I only see you" is incredibly healing to me. Penelope hears his list of his sins and straight up IGNORES them. It's almost as if she has forgotten them. She loves Odysseus, period. She does not see the vile monster that Athena sees and accepts and regrets. She sees her husband.

Love is the greatest power in the world.

[v4mp-re]

𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲

SUMMARY: When your childhood best friend Theodore Nott sleeps with you one night, your feelings for him over complicate the delicacy of the situation. ᴛʀᴏᴘᴇ: childhood bestfriend! Theodore Nott x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

T.W: Angst, mentions of lost of parental figure (mother), commitment issues, implications of sex, mentions of the word "porn", mentions of smoking, drinking and promiscuity, the word "fat" used with slight negative connotation, google translated Italian.

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It was as if all hell broke loose.

Ever since you've been young, your memories have been stained with that of the presence of your best friend, Theodore Nott. Influential pureblood families had to stick together, that and it just so happened that your mothers were good friends. You were about 5 when news of his mother's death came around, still remembering the tear stained cheeks belonging to none other than him.

That was the only time you'd seen him cry before.

The two did everything together, from getting their Hogwarts acceptance letters to getting sorted into the same house and forming a friend group of their own.

The group worked as sort of a combination of both your close friend groups, yours consisting of Pansy and Astoria and his of Mattheo and Lorenzo. It was just the 6 of them for a while until Pansy introduced Draco, who brought Blaise with him, and eventually joined the group as well.

Things changed in 5th year.

What at first seemed like Theodore reconnecting with his mother's death and coming to terms with it, turned into smoking, obsessive drinking and even whoring around. It wasn't something you necessarily expected either, growing up, he was always that chubby kid that you'd befriend but always depised when it came his turn to sit on the swing. Now however, he was different. He had grown, obviously, but puberty laced with Mattheo's influence, shaped him into the man he is today. And as much as you hated to admit it, he was gorgeous.

Theodore Nott. The very boy you grew up with, was now this tall, rich, Italian pureblood, slytherin boy that every girl wanted to get with, far from the ''fat geeky kid'' he used to be.

So what else could he do other than to embrace it?He had never gotten this much attention before and it wasn't as if the girls of Hogwarts were all a pain to look at, plus, Mattheo had showed him enough porn to know what to do, right?

His inexperience wasn't known to you. Surely you thought he had slept with you with the intention of wanting to get together, afterall he was your bestfriend and you both knew each other practically your whole lives. So you took his drunken kiss as a confession, the way his hands slid into your hair, how his tongue slid itself into your mouth, down to the way he looked at you as you laid there bare for him for the first time.

You should have known better.

By the time you woke up, he was gone. His presence almost non existent, except for the faint smell of him still lingering in the air, the only indicator that what happened last night wasn't a wild dream of yours. You thought nothing much of it, getting ready when the sight of your skin littered with hickeys made you freeze. You weren't drunk but you weren't necessarily sober last night either, for it being both your first times, it surely didn't felt like it. Your bodies felt like they were made for each other, and in a way you were conviced you were too.

You got ready, making sure to cover up the bruises claiming your neck as you walked to the great hall. You had been friends long enough to know that Lorenzo's love for the school's food had rubbed off on the others as well. You knew exactly where to look.

Though the sight you were greeted with wasn't necessarily pleasant.

Sitting at where you usually did, was Daphne Greengrass, a gorgeous blonde slytherin that just so happened to be the same year as you guys. Theodore's arm drapped right across her shoulder.

Mattheo, whom was previously in a conversation with Theodore, spots you almost instantly. He smiles that charming grin he always carried, one that you grew to adore, before calling you over. Theodore doesn't even glance.

With your original seat currently occupied by a girl, of which none if them had ever talked to prior, you sat beside the spare spot near Mattheo, who immediately pulls you closer to him by your hips. A gesture you normally would pull away from, yet the sight of Theodore being so cozy with another girl after the night you too had together was a new kind of pain you wish you never knew.

The insistent giggles coming from Daphne felt like a knife getting plunged deeper and deeper into your chest, knowing that the reason for said giggles was the man beside her, so carelessly whispering in her ear as his hand played with her hair.

''You're awfully quiet.'' A voice that unmistakably belonged to no other than Lorenzo. His eyes ever so slightly flickering to the way Mattheo's hand was still snaked around your waist, in which his fingers were carefully drawing patterns against the fabric of your skirt.

''I'm just tired'' You spoke, a slight smile gracing your features though your words carried a certain innuendo to it, one only Theodore could pick up, one which he ignored so openly.

Mattheo's low chuckle unmistakable, his arms moving to wrap around your waist, head nuzzled in the spot between your neck and shoulder. His breath ghosting against the surface of your neck.

Your eyes flickered to Theo, who, would once immediately tell Mattheo off, now sat occupied with the pretty blonde. His eyes fixed on hers like she was the only person that mattered. The glimpses of the night prior, the way he looked at you, how he treated you with such care, now a fleeting memory.

You felt used. Like Theodore had taken advantage of your friendship together and used it as a cheap way to test out what he already knew. Toying with a lot more than you had let on.

It was then on that you decided to distance from the Italian, something he had barely noticed until he strolled into the potions classroom, after flirting with random girls throughout the whole duration of the morning, to an empty spot which you normally occupied.

It was abnormal to him, you were his potions partner, his seat mate that allowed him to copy off you on tests, the one person who could help him pass the class, yet there you were, sitting with Mattheo instead of him.

It wasn't as if finding a new seatmate was hard, almost immediately, a brunette ravenclaw sat beside him, her friends giggling from the seat behind her, but she wasn't you.

As the class went on, Theodore found himself looking your way. His eyes would linger on the way you ever so carefully measured the ingredients and placed them to the side, a gesture that his current partner didn't care to do. How you laughed when Mattheo so dropped the eye of newt in an attempt to flirt with you.

It infuriated Theodore, but god was he too stubborn to admit it.

The smell of alcohol reeked the common room, the blasting of the music through the speakers weighing heavily on the countless of sweaty, intoxicated teenagers present, all of which, unbothered by it.

Draco had thrown possibly the 4th party in the past 4 months, all of which, you had previously attended on Theodore's insistence. This time, it was on someone's insistence, though not his.

Heels clicking with every step, you weaved towards the familiar green leather couch situated in front of the fireplace. Spotting your usual friend group, all of which slightly drunk and possibly high.

Mattheo, ever the observant, spots you almost immediately.

''For a second there I thought you wouldn't show'' His voice laced with amusement, it was clear he had probably been drinking prior, the scent of alcohol lingering with every breath he took.

He doesn't await a response before wrapping his arm around your waist, an action that doesn't go unnoticed by Theodore Nott, who in turn, pushes off the slytherin girl who was previously seated on his lap, before abruptly standing up.

You knew better than to follow after him, that Theodore Nott was no longer any of your business, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't care about him anymore.

Moving out of Mattheo's grasp under the excuse of wanting a drink, you made your way to the one place you knew Theo would be.

Theodore knew you'd come after him, you always have. The clicking of your heels an echoing reminder of your fleeting friendship. The once obnoxiously loud music now muted by the glass of the common room balcony.

You knew he'd be there, he always was. "Why are you doing this to me?" He spoke, his gaze fixed on the moonlight that reflected off the black lake, now even darker. The only flicker of light coming from his lighter as he brings it to the cigarette hanging off his lips.

"Doing what Theodore?" You spoke, your tone unconsciously laced with irritation and an air of indifference to his dishriveled appearance.

He pulls the cigarette away from his mouth, letting out a trail of smoke in it's path.

"Cazzo. (fuck) You know what I mean! You and Mattheo! Mio Dio, mi sta facendo impazzire!" (My God, it's driving me crazy) He turns to face you and for the first time tonight, you catch a glimpse of his expression.

It's been years since you've seen Theodore Nott cry, and yet here he was.

He moves towards the lounge chair, sitting at the edge, cigarette long forgotten. His shoulders shake with the kind of sorrow that you've only ever saw once in your life, his face buried in his hands.

"È come se ti stessi perdendo." (It's like I'm losing you) He mumbles ever so slightly, looking up for the first time as his gaze catches yours.

You knew there was no turning back. With your resolved crumbling at the seams, you moved to sit beside him on the chair. "I can't lose you, né a Matteo, né a nessuno" (not to Mattheo, not to anyone)

His cheeks were tear-stained as he stared out toward the lake. The party music in the background had grown faint, almost as if the world itself had narrowed to just the two of you.

But you weren’t having it.

"This isn't fair. You can't just sleep with me and then act like nothing happened! You can't just toss me aside like I was nothing and then get mad when Mattheo suddenly takes interest in me!"

"I don't get why you're bringing up that night we slept together. non è stato un grosso problema." (it wasn't a big deal)

"It was a big deal!" Your voice cracked, the weight of your emotions pouring out with every word.

"And why’s that?!" he snapped back, his voice sharp and defensive, but there was something else there—something unspoken, trembling beneath his anger.

"Because I love you!" The confession tore from your chest like a wound finally bursting open, raw and unfiltered. For a moment, the world seemed to still, the air between you heavy with the gravity of what you’d just said.

He froze, his breath hitching as his eyes searched yours. You could see it—the flicker of vulnerability in the depths of his gaze, the way his jaw tightened as if trying to hold back a storm of emotions.

"You love me?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper now, as though the words were too fragile to say out loud.

"Yeah," your voice trembling but resolute. "I have loved you ever since first year, and it's killing me that you're pushing me away and acting like nothing happened!"

"Yeah, well, maybe I’m pushing you away because I don’t know how to stop myself from destroying everything good in my life!" he snapped, his voice breaking. He stood up abruptly, running a hand through his hair as he paced in frustration. "You think this is easy for me? You think I don’t hate myself every second for the way I treat you?"

"Then stop doing it!" you cried, standing as well, your voice trembling with anger and pain. "Stop acting like you’re some broken thing that can’t be fixed. I see you, Theo. I’ve always seen you. And you’re not broken—you’re scared. But so am I!"

He stopped pacing, his back to you, his shoulders tense. "You don’t understand," he muttered, his voice low.

"Then make me understand!" you pleaded, stepping closer, your heart hammering in your chest. "Tell me why it’s so hard for you to believe that I love you. I’ve seen the parts of you you’re too scared to show anyone else. And I’m still here, aren’t I?"

He let out a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of his own self-loathing was finally too much to carry. "I’m scared," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I’m scared of what happens if I let myself believe it—believe you. Because what if I lose you? What if I ruin it?"

"You’re already losing me," you said softly, tears slipping down your cheeks now. "Every time you push me away, every time you act like this—like we don’t matter—you’re losing me a little more."

For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze fixed on the ground. Then, slowly, he looked up, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

"I don’t want to lose you," he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his confession.

"Then stop pushing me away," you pleaded, taking another step closer. "Stop pretending you don’t feel this too."

He hesitated, his lips parting as if to argue, but then he closed the distance between you in one swift, desperate motion. His arms wrapped around you tightly, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself break in your embrace.

"I’m sorry," he murmured against your shoulder, his voice muffled but filled with raw sincerity. "I’m so sorry."

And as you held him, feeling the tension slowly leave his body, you knew that this was the beginning—not an easy one, but one where neither of you would have to carry the weight alone anymore.

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[mossangelll]

Yandere Ekko Headcanons?

AHHH LOVE THIS i got an ask about yandere ekko and jinx x reader so this is great practice! it was super fun to write! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Yandere!Ekko x Reader

song rec: ifhy - tyler the creator feat. pharrell (honestly this goes with the fic so well…officially yan!ekko’s theme song lmao)

cw: attempted murder, abusive behaviour, unhealthy relationships, yandere behaviour

you’re an orphan, just like ekko and so many other zaunites across the nation

it’s a lonely life; people die, get hauled off to stillwater or become hooked on shimmer - you lose more people then you could ever hope to gain as time goes by

so when you hear about the firelights and the rebellion they’re carrying out you find yourself itching to join their cause

all you want is for the people you love to stay with you and not fall to piltover or the eye of zaun

when you reach the commune you’re amazed at what you see; theres so much greenery surrounding you that it takes a minute for you to come to your bearings and realise that, yea, you are in the right places - there’s even a tree! a real, living tree in zaun of all places!

the magic soon wears off and you start to feel out of place, everyone else has their roles, friends and you’re just an interloper with nothing to contribute

you stand around at the entrance, unsure of yourself and ready to turn back around before a man with frosty-blond locs and eyes so big and brown you could sink into them smiles at you

“hey, you look a bit lost, need help?”

you’re starstruck at his kindness and it’s hard to deny that he’s attractive - painfully so

to you, this was the day that solidified that even in the darkest of times there is always hope hiding in the shadows

but for ekko, the moment he laid eyes on you, shrinking in on yourself and cautious, he felt a compulsion deep within his heart that told him to never let you out of his sight again

he wants so badly to help everyone and lead zaun into a brighter future and that includes you above everything else

over time, you become acquainted with many members of the community, they’ve become your family when you thought you would never have one again, but ekko is your favourite, even if it embarrasses you to admit

you two become inseparable; every firelight around knows that wherever ekko goes, they can trust you to be following behind

sure, he gets mad sometimes when he sees you talking to other people

and yeah, he hates the idea of you going anywhere outside of the community on your own

of course, you thought it was unreasonable when he would beat up random men who even dared glance at you

but he knows better than anyone else how dangerous life can be down here - you trust him when he says he’s only looking out for you

when you look into his eyes, you know you’re in the right place

you know you’ve found your home

one day, you wake up and climb down from your bunk just to find a slip of paper under your door

it was a poem, gracefully written and signed from “gekko”

you chuckle at the fact he used the nickname you lovingly teased him with; at the end, he asks to meet at the tree at sunset

you spend ages deliberating on the clothes you should wear and settle on the outfit that he compliments you the most in

it only seems right for what you suspect is a special occasion

you’re nervous on the way to the tree, wondering what could be so important that he had to write a poem of all things

you clap your hands to get his attention and it’s almost comical the way his head shoots up and his body seems to catapult itself from his tense position

“you’re here! didn’t think you’d make it.” it’s odd to see ekko act so skittish in your presence but you brush it off, he works harder than anyone you know and it’s obviously taking its toll

he nods towards his hoverboard and extends his rough hand out to you and you have to work hard to tamp down your budding excitement

you hold onto him as you both step on, squished together from how little space there is, and hold your breath as he takes off for the skyline, away from zaun and all your worries

he’s never let you ride the boards before so your breath is stolen from you as you look around at the vast expanse of the darkening sky in awe

ekko can’t help but smile at the transfixed look on your face - you’re absolutely captivating like this

you stay like this for a while, just gliding above the clouds before he clears his throat

“So, uh, I bet you’ve figured out this isn’t just some impromptu sightseeing trip, hah.”

he’s bashful, hand rubbing the back of his neck as he stares down at the lights below you, and his words come out so tenderly you’re a bit scared at what he could say

in truth, you too had hoped that he had to say was important to your position as a firelight; that maybe this was the time he finally extended an offer for you to fight on the frontlines by his side after all the times he’s denied you despite you proving you were good enough

“you’re not as mysterious as you think, gekko.” you go to punch his arm and he looks up at you in faux anger before you both erupt into laughter

this is what having a family feels like, and you would never trade this feeling for the world

so it takes you off guard when instead of him essentially promoting you, he blurts out the words “i love you so much.”

he rambles on for a lot longer about his undying passion and overwhelming obsession with you and lack of confidence - he’s been meaning to say something for a while now but was too scared…but you tune it all out

your face screws up in confusion - what? he loves you? you turn away from ekko, panicking over what to do or say

you’re caught between a rock and a hard place - you would never, ever want to hurt his feelings but you know better than anyone that you can’t pretend that you feel something for him that you really can’t return

“i’m sorry ekko but i- i don’t think i feel the same way.”

maybe, you hope, this is some weird joke and he’ll take you back down where both of you will laugh at the stupid face you made

it’s eerily silent when you’re so high up where there are no stars to be seen and the moon is still days away from making its appearance

you finally look at him but his eyes are glued to his feet and your heart drops

before you can attempt to console him, his arms dart out and shove you off the hoverboard with so much force you feel like you’re being launched clean off

your stomach turns into a bottomless pit by the time you’ve come to grips with the whiplash that’s hit you, one hand gripping onto the edge of the board with all your might as the rest of your body dangles in the air precariously

shock overcomes you as a single mantra repeats in your mind, the heightened state of pure terror causing your body to go into overdrive: is he really going to kill me?

“ekko! ekko, PLEASE DON’T DO THIS!”

but when you look up at him it’s like you’re facing a stranger; the features you’d come to love are twisted into a crude mockery of all the memories you accumulated from hours of staring at him in adoration, a horrific collage of every single one of his moods, good and bad, pasted onto a canvas you can’t recognise

it’s all so, so wrong you feel like this has to be some sick, twisted nightmare

“so this is who you really are, y/n? bet you only clung onto me because you liked what i could give you, huh.” he snarls, and you flinch back at the pure hate dripping from his voice

his heavy boot stomps down on your fingers and you cry out in pain and in fear of falling to your eventual death

useless pleas and empty promises babble from your mouth, anything to get him to calm down and rethink what he’s about to do

“all i want is for you to love me like i love you, can’t you fucking see that! just say yes and all of this can be over.”

you hesitate and he’s quick to pounce on your moment of weakness

his boot, now the only thing stopping you from plummeting to the rocky ground, eases up and you start to feel yourself slide further down

you feel your heart stop and it’s as if time slows down to nothing but the minute flutter of his eyelashes and the short pants coming from your heaving chest

you can’t help but think of everything leading up to this day, memories running through your mind at warp speed that you may never get to look back on ever again; is this what they meant when they said your life flashes before your eyes?

you waste no time to frantically nod in agreement, your throat hoarse from screaming but pathetic whimpers still managing to slip out here and there

you just don’t want to die

ekko grabs you by your lone, weak arm and hauls you back up onto the board, stabilising your wavering body in his vice-like hold

“let’s go back, ok babe?” he mumbles, sneaking a quick peck on your cheek which you try to dodge but his fierce clutch on your face stops you, digging in harshly in what you recognise as a warning

at any other time you might have thought his voice was romantic but now? now his dulcet tone is tainted and makes you dry heave even if you try your best to stay calm

you silently nod at him as he begins the journey back, peacefully gliding with the cool evening air whipping through his blond locs, chattering on about his day like nothing had happened, like you two were on some date

but you know from the tight latch he has on you and the incessant glances back at your shaking body that he was simply putting on a show of normalcy, as if to say now you copy me

you find the courage to look into his eyes but the home you once sought comfort in is nowhere to be found

masterlist

[occasionalsnippets]

Okay I'm so very curious on what would happen in case fd!mc died. I've not caught up on all the lore but the idea that they'd focus on everyone elses tragedies, only to forget they're now a character too with their own problems and enemies and that (or something else) being their end. Like the angst potential just calls to me.

Taglist: @dragondevinity, @lonely-star2044, @sheep-from-rad, @ilxandra, @thethingwiththefeathers, @star-wars-lycanwing-bat, @sackofsadstuff, @zonked-times, @paastaboi, @venfia, @fantasy-angelo, @linaisadream

Asdlaskjdh I would love to kill them off, maybe like a bit after Jason comes to the manor. I just know that everyone is going to be trapped in the shadow of the pedestal they built for you!!!

Like, Bruce is perpetual longing to make things right by you. He forever catches himself thinking “what would you do” and “what would you tell him to do”, but never able to rely on your guidance to fix things again. Even though you acted essentially as his emotional crutch and translator and the initial impression of you basically being a (not) adult in his life, he’s eternally going to wish he could’ve done better for you. He isn’t your father and you weren’t his daughter. But, maybe you could’ve been something. It’s too late now, regardless.

Even though you’re six feet under, you’re no farther than you were in life. Dick remembers the distance between you and him more than anything else. Be it the distance he placed between himself and the manor or the ravine you dug yourself. He had always been more focussed on Tim than you and in many ways, you had orchestrated things so that it would be that way. You didn’t need him. Not like everyone else. And that leaves him with nothing of you but distant text messages and memories of you, dancing just out of his reach.

Jason remembers you amidst fluttering fabrics and blurry faces, shutters of a past he can barely recall. Your face in childhood is smeared in washes of green, blending with the images of the you of now that blares with every headline of your death. He’s never gotten to know who you are now when you aren’t hidden behind velvet curtains, in dresses covered in rhinestones worth more than an apartment complex. It haunts him. Just a bit. The same way he knows the memory of who he was before his death haunts Bruce.

Tim mourns in the Drake manor that has always been filled with more you than either of his parents. You’re gone now, just like them. It hits him harder than anyone he’s ever lost. Unlike everyone else, he almost had a surplus of memories of you, the good, the bad, the annoying and kind. It casts a daunting shadow of a role he’ll never be able to fulfil. A role that you, his perfect, unfailing, older sister, have left behind. The lingering warmth will kill him someday he thinks as he traces your path and follows in your footsteps.

Damian only knows you from stories and photographs and the half-aborted actions that the rest of the family takes. They are all trying to be something good for him and in the depths of the records his father keeps, he knows that it is your doing. You have always been larger than life to him. An idol-like figure he can never reach or know. There are millions of photos of you, thousands of angles, all of which he has learned to draw. He can imagine the gentle curve of your smile, mimic the posture when you stood, count the number of lashes on each of your eyes. But, he can only grasp at the ghost you left behind, unable to reach who you truly were.

The family will grieve. They will mourn. But, they will collect themselves eventually. You did not spend the last years of your life forcing them to communicate only for them to fall apart after you’re gone, after all.

[mycurrentobsessionis]

I think about it all. The. Time. I have got big feelings about Rebecca as a parent, and I really hope the relationship between Rebecca and the Detective gets explored because holy shit.

Rebecca strikes me as someone who was never meant to be a mother. She's a good agent, a good friend, a good person... but a terrible mother. I get the feeling that Rook was the one who wanted a kid and Rebecca went along with it because she was in love with him -- if there was even a choice to begin with. It may have been an accidental pregnancy that he was excited for and she wasn't. And then she lost him and was left with a small child and role she didn't really want.

I believe that Rebecca loves her child, but I think she would've been a better aunt. Then being present for the big moments (though it sounds like she wasn't really "present" as much as "there," if she was on-call) would have meant more, and missing all the little day-to-day shit would have mattered less.

The most responsible thing for Rebecca to have done when Rook died would have been to quit the Agency. She could have taken a job that still let her protect people but that put less demands on her time and allowed her to raise a child. As a parent, there is a certain level of selflessness and sacrifice that is needed for the sake of the human you brought into the world, and while Rebecca is willing to sacrifice her life for her kid, she wasn't willing to sacrifice the Agency or her place within it.

And now Rebecca wants to rekindle a relationship with her kid that doesn't exist anymore. There's no real foundation there -- the detective raised themselves, essentially. Now they're an adult, and while the parent-adult offspring relationship is still there and may be salvages, the particular closeness that comes from the caregiver-child bond can never be. Rebecca has shown that she values the Agency more than she values her kid, even if she didn't mean to.

And I really do wish that was something that N and the rest of unit bravo seemed to understand. Like, to them she is a wonderful friend. To the detective, she is more like... well, if she were merely an aunt, she'd be a pretty cool aunt. But in the absence of a consistent mother, she's just gone.

do you ever think about how in the literal very first scene with Rebecca, we learn that Unit Bravo had no idea she even had a kid

she chose UB and The Agency over the detective so consistently, so frequently, that her team didn't even consider that she had some kind of life outside of them, with someone waiting for her at home

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 9 part 6

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

billy drives to westview again, I guess flying right now feels weird while he's so conflicted about his own witchy nature. and who boarded up agatha's door? were the neighbors afraid some other unspeakable horror was going to jump out of the house?

we get another good view of agatha's grave, with all the purple flowers and mushrooms rio grew for her

agnes' bike and señor scratchy's cage (I hope that fluffer bunny's okay somewhere)

NOT HELPING, AGATHA. did she just run down to the basement so she could do her 'it's britney bitch' face? (she does look like britney here)

sure, sure, you'll get your brooch back and then you'll be on your merry way doing ghostly shit with no regrets whatsoever. it's not like you've been following billy around like a lost puppy or anything

agatha sees billy drawing the circle and is all posture again, a big slice of "I'm cooler than you and you don't scare me little kid" with a side of "ooooh are we doing magic?? I love magic lemme see lemme see!"

she's truly embarrassing

you're the one with a buttload of black candles in your basement agatha who do you think you're mocking

a pentacle, the symbol of our coven surrounding him. wherever you are, a coven there shall be.

oooh book through the heart! we get it, symbolism.

agatha sees the brooch and gives a deep relieved sigh, immediately followed by more bullshit. JUST TELL HIM THAT'S YOUR SON'S BROOCH AND IT'S IMPORTANT, YOU USELESS DISASTER. JUST OPEN UP FOR ONCE.

the spell is vade (not valia) a lucem, relinque terram, noli esse phantasma. go to the light, leave the earth, don't be a ghost (bit on the nose.)

what's wrong agatha, not feeling so confident all of a sudden?

you know the drill by now, she won't go quietly. so she sneers.

ooh we're appealing to his better nature now? after your many 'never apologize for murder' lessons?

idk man, it's almost as if the people you keep pushing away will eventually get tired of your bullshit. it's almost as if billy here, the kid you supposedly care a lot about, just went through a terrible experience and could really need a wise mentor right now - instead of whatever you're doing.

and now we're begging. better make a decision there agatha, you're starting to fade away!

sure, that will help. great plan agatha, masterful gambit, turning into a ghost and losing even more of your agency

there you go. it only took this poor wretch nine episodes, killing three people, scaring away forever the love of her life, thoroughly traumatizing a kid and somehow losing her entire body to express ONE honest, uncensored feeling.

it's the little steps.

heartwarming: local 350 year old experiences for the first time the mortifying ordeal of being known.

another thing billy and agatha have in common is how good they are at reading people. with billy it's a natural talent (comes with being a mind reader) that he's still learning how to use, he can read people but doesn't know how to interpret what he finds yet, hence the whole trials fiasco.

with agatha, he's been trying to reconcile his instincts with facts and logic. on a surface level he shouldn't trust agatha at all, indeed she's the last person anyone should trust. but since he was that kid who liked hanging out at agnes' house, billy guessed something else in agatha, a vulnerability behind all the darkness that he's been (awkwardly) trying to bring to the surface.

why? I think it's for the same reason agatha has been reaching out to him: because they're so similar. billy wants to reconcile agatha's two natures because he wants to do the same for himself. he is the son of the witch who tortured westview, he has all this scary power. there is a darkness in him that he doesn't know how to deal with, but maybe, if agatha is redeemed, there is hope for himself too.

in other words, these two are kindred spirits (spiritual mother/son, mentor/mentee, whatever you want to call it) who recognize each other and instinctively want to stick to together, even though it's a bad, bad idea.

(I cannot believe it took agatha turning into a ghost to finally get a manicure for her nasty witchy nails)

and this is all it took to win billy over, that's how ready and eager he was to believe agatha has a heart! the moment he realizes that of course agatha loved nicholas! of course she's devastated after losing him! he steps back and dries a tear, moved. for the first time he sees agatha's pain and, the good kid he is, he's earnest to give her sympathy and comfort. he's still too young to fully understand what agatha has been trough, but he doesn't need to. he just needs to care and be there for her, and that's enough, that makes all the difference.

the salemites taught agatha that she cannot trust others, that if she shows who she really is people will hate her and hurt her. when nicky died she tried all she could to exorcise that devastating pain, except asking for help. she never allowed someone to give her even the most basic forms of comfort, no hugs, no crying on someone's shoulder, no 'I'm sorry this happened to you'. no 'I'm here for you, if you need anything'. no 'I know it feels like that, but I promise it wasn't your fault.'

agatha set out to mold and raise billy as another version of herself, but what she got instead is a kid who, just like nicky, is simply glad to love her back. yes, people will leave you if you keep pushing them away, but the opposite is also true: if you stick by and make an effort, no matter how many mistakes you make, most people will recognize what you're doing and respond in kind. it sucks that agatha can do that so rarely and with so much difficulty. but it happens sometimes, even to her.

I've talked about how a "coven two" is never sustainable on the long run, how you cannot just have one person be your whole world. humans, social animals we are, simply need a community. but for now it's a start, it's agatha cautiously letting herself be around another person again. and oh god she's going to be such a bad influence on this poor kid. I'm glad *he* has other people in his life, at least.

she's like, faIR WArNiNG

ookay drama llama. these two gays, I swear. already trying to outdrama each other.

she's all proud!! look at her boy paying homage to the dead and expressing his grief like a champ! meanwhile I'm sitting here like guys, guys, you cannot just write their names on the floor and call it a day, have you CHECKED if you have to break the news to their loved ones?! did sharon have children? did alice have friends or a partner that are looking for her right now?!?!!?!?! please make ONE phone call I beg you! is there an ADULTIER ADULT in the room, you CANNOT LEAVE THESE TWO IN CHARGE

and off they go, merrily causing chaos and mayhem. if I had to guess what happens next, agatha is going to love and help and teach that kid while making soooo many mistakes and causing soooo much emotional damage, and also very much try to manipulate him into giving her a new body, because lbr, this asshole didn't get herself close to the one person on earth who can do that by pure accident. all immaturity and ulterior motives aside, agatha is taking baby steps in the right direction and I'm SEATED for it.

AND WE'RE DONE. I cannot believe I got to the end of this?!!?! thank you from the bottom of my black heart to all the peeps who reached out and encouraged me, thank you for all your likes and reblogs and engagement, and special thanks to @idkbroletssee, @yodladi-yodlada, @aquaaquila, @onceuponalegendbg, @vinspiration-book, @sallysetonagathario, @2-the-moon-and-2-saturn, @yourlocalegotisticalqueerishere, @isagrimorie, @jojobobapalooza, @netellie, @nutella-icecream, @talysalankil, @ragnarockz, @misschanandlerbong25, @westviews-nosiest, @liminal-smith, @kendrysaneela, @whogirl42, @witchtwig, @nerdybeachbum299, @bogcrowe, @the-silence-in-between, @farminglesbian, @lazyreinelle @fantasticvoidnerdshoe, @ofutopia, I'm sure I'm forgetting many but I promise I see you all!

Last but not least, big, grateful thanks to @crybabyheathen for always messaging me and forcing me out of my shell and encouraging much needed human interaction 😉. And lots of love to @april-december, don't tell anyone but I look forward to your comments the most, it truly means the world that you appreciate and engage with my posts like you've been doing.

Happy new year, everybody!

[suksatoru]

dancing in the dark⋆˚୨♡୧˚⋆ dabi x reader

a/n; dabi falls in love with a dancer ~ listen to margaret ft bleachers by lana del rey for the total bee experience <3

dabi doesn't usually drink. he doesn't want the pain he feels, whether emotional or physical, to fade. he wants it embedded into every fiber of his being. he wants it to be a constant reminder for him to do worse—he wants it to work at his fuel, work as something that gets him up with some sort of a purpose in the morning.

but dabi's just tired today. there were some days his heart couldn't keep up with his mind, and today was one of them. he staggers into the dingy, crowded bar without a second thought, dragging his feet like there was some invisible string holding him back from walking properly

the first sip is always bitter. but soon enough, one glass turns into two. and slowly, his blinks become drearier and the dull thudding behind his eyes fades away to nothing. there's crimson blood running down his calf and no doubt smeared all over his pants, but he doesn't have the energy to tend to any of his wounds right now.

he's tucked into the corner of the bar, sitting at a single stool table with his head bowed as he alternates between tugging at his hair and muttering mindlessly under his breath. his headache is getting worse. he has the sudden urge to break the glass in front of him and swallow the shattered shards just so he can feel something besides the relentless pounding in his head

he doesn't notice when the bar's lights dim, and he doesn't hear the wooden floors groaning under the weight of people dragging their chairs to the front of the bar. there's a small stage in the bar, where a man who must be in his late fifties sits idly—chatting with a wrinkly smile to the folks who sat front and center. his arm was draped over an old, beat down guitar. it looked like he was waiting for someone.

dabi exhales through his nose, rubbing his temple with one hand while the other one holds his knee in a death grip. he didn't have any money to pay for his drinks, didn't even think about bringing any as he wandered until he found a bar he deemed crowded enough for him to enter and go unnoticed

he finally notices that some sort of a show was about to take place when he hears it. the first note is long, and dabi almost thinks he imagined the sound until a slow melody begins to form

he notices the old man, fingers perched as they move languidly up and down the neck of his guitar. the symphony he creates is calming, and dabi sinks into his chair. it creaks quietly from the action, and he allows his eyes to close for a moment

he pries his eyes open slowly when he hears low murmurs of chatter begin. and he's half a second away from telling whoever it was interrupting the man's guitar solo to shut the fuck up—when he finally sees you.

you glide onto the stage slowly. your lips are stretched into a tentative smile and your eyes flit over the small crowd in front of you. and then, you start dancing

your skirt is long, and it brushes the floor with every dip and twirl you take. dabi...has never seen anything like this. you dance like it's as natural to you as breathing is. every movement is relaxed and confident. your steps are measured, unhurried as you get lost in the sound around you

the bar is quiet, save for the music notes that hung in the air like the stars that hang in the sky above. dabi's leaning forward in his chair to get a better glimpse of you as you move

your dance couldn't have lasted more than a few minutes. but dabi felt like hours had passed in the time you moved from one spot on the stage to another. your features are composed entirely of bliss—a serenity dabi had never known. never seen in a person until now.

he left during your standing ovation, hands dug deep into the pockets of his jeans and brows furrowed. dabi had taken the chance to leave without having to pay a dime when he saw the workers were momentarily distracted by the last few moments of your dance

but who could blame them?

dabi didn't know if you'd be back to dance again. but after an entire week passed, it was friday again. and there was a chance—though very slim, that you'd be back at the bar.

he brought money with him this time, too.

he arrived at eight-ish, same time he was there last week. taking his usual seat in the back, dabi ordered something light for tonight. he wanted to have a clear mind when you came on stage, wanted to pinpoint every shift in your expression so he can try and figure out just how someone can put so much of their heart and soul into something

because dabi could see how passionate you were. in the way your fingers curled and the way your shoulders moved and the way you spun in a manner that managed to hypnotize him

and you were there that night. and the next, and the next, and even the one after that. of course, dabi only knew this because he had been there too.

dabi's seen dancers before. but those dancers, they were lewd and irksome. he didn't like strippers, and he surely didn't like people who danced for others. he didn't like people who did anything for others.

but you danced like you were the only one in the room. some nights, dabi felt like he was intruding a special moment. you looked like you were lost in your own world, a world he was desperately beginning to want to be a part of

but you weren't up in the clouds—no, you were in the same world as dabi. because one day, you approached him. of course you recognized your reoccurring guest

dabi's voice is low as he introduces himself, his voice is low as he mumbles out something along the lines of 'you taught yourself how to dance?', and his voice is low when he mutters it—

teach me.

it was a shot in the dark—he half expected you to tell him to fuck off, or make a comment on his appearance and tell him to get lost. and dabi promised himself if you said anything of the like, he would respect your wish. he would accept your cruelty and walk out of the bar and he would never come back.

but he walks back to his shitty one room apartment with a crumpled piece of paper in between his fingertips, your cursive handwriting scribbled on it. he walks like the weight of the world is on his shoulders—he walks like he's never had the pleasure of dancing before. never had the pleasure of getting high on nothing but his own accord

he likes dancing, dabi decides. your hands are soft as you move against him, and sometimes—he allows his older self to shine through with you

he thinks of those romantic comedies he would watch with his mother as a child when he spins you. your laughter is a song all in its own, there's no need for music when you're whispering gently to him

move like this dabi—breathe in and out—yes, just like that dabi!

he dances with you in the kitchen, the only light available comes from his cheap refrigerator as the two of you navigate through the dark. he dances with you in the living room, too. and he supposes the way he holds you at night could be a form of dancing as well. his limbs move and they curl and they feel—every fiber of his being does when he's with you

dabi loves dancing. even with all the discord and confusion in his life—there was one thing he could be sure of, and it was your dancing.

[lowkeyerror]

Softie

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Word count: 1.1k

Notes: Requested, fluff

Summary: You drag Agatha Harkness out on a picnic date and she can't believe how much she enjoys it.

An: Mega soft cute fluff. Sorry that it's a little short.

Masterlist

The more Agatha began to think, the more she was genuinely confused as to how she landed herself in this predicament. A picnic date.

It was too pleasant for her usual taste. The sun was up high in the sky, yet a cool breeze made the heat more bearable. People were scattered around the park doing various activities joyfully. There was not an ounce of chaos in sight.

“I’ve never seen someone look so perplexed about a park before,” you comment opening the picnic basket.

Her confusion seemed to clear at the sound of your voice. That’s right, she was here on this beautiful day at the park, because you suggested it.

“I’m not perplexed, it’s just not my usual.”

“Hundreds of years old and parks are mystifying to you,” you tease her.

Agatha deadpans, “Not parks, just you.”

You blush under her gaze, “Whatever, let’s just unpack the picnic.”

Agatha smiles genuinely, helping you unpack the basket. She was pleasantly surprised to find a lot of her favorites tucked away inside.

“So… what now?”

You laugh at her, “Now we enjoy the snacks, the outdoors, and each other.”

Agatha sighs, “It’s so mundane.”

You shake your head, “Does my company bore you?”

Agatha sputters, scooting closer to you, “If that were the case, I wouldn’t be here… at a park. I prefer having you by my side.”

You lay your head in her lap. Her hand finds a place in your hair, and it feels all too natural.

“You’re getting soft,” you say looking up at her.

“You seem to have that kind of effect on me,” she says softly.

You get lost in her aura. The feeling of her hands combing through your hair made you giddy. You reach for the bunch of grape you had packed, picking a single one and holding it up for Agatha to eat.

She looked at you for a long moment before eating the grape from your fingers.

“You want another?”

“Keep em coming sweetheart, if I use my imagination I can taste wine.”

You chuckle at her antics, “You’re adorable.”

She arches an eyebrow, “Adorable? I am Agatha Harkness, feared by all. Cunning, mischievous , hot, I am not adorable.”

“It’s even cuter when you go on those tangents.”

Agatha refuses to look at you as a blush coats her cheeks. However you don’t let her hide from you so easily. You sit up, gently pulling her towards you. You place a small kiss on her lips.

“I swear you’re trying to make me melt today,” Agatha mumbles.

You steal another kiss from her, “Maybe I am.” You lie flat on the blanket encouraging Agatha to do the same. “Look at the clouds with me. That one kind of looks like Señor Scratchy.”

Agatha stares into the sky and truly she only sees white blobs, but she thought better than tell you that. Instead she plays along, pointing out random clouds and attributing their likeness to something.

“That one looks like a broom.”

You intertwine your hands together unconsciously, “I see it, and the one next to it looks like a turtle.”

The excitement in your tone makes Agatha feel all warm inside, “We could get a turtle.”

You turn to face her, “I thought you hated pets?”

“Hate, is a strong word. Besides, I like Señor Scratchy. I think a turtle would be pretty docile in comparison to a dog or cat.”

“What would you name it?”

She shrugs, “I think that’s your domain sweetheart.”

“I don’t know, Señor Scratchy is a great name.”

Agatha thinks for a minute, “Tortellini.”

You burst out in laughter, “Tortellini the turtle? I love it.”

Agatha stares at your side profile as you laugh. The sun beaming down on you in that moment. It was as if you were glowing. Agatha begins to realize that she always feels like you have this glow about you. You carry yourself with a brightness that she can’t help but be affected by.

Her layers of sarcasm, selfishness, and superiority can’t help but peel away in your presence. She wasn’t used to feeling this amount of positive emotion. It was surprising that it wasn’t making her sick. In all truth she could never get sick of you or the ways that you challenged her.

The sweet moments between the two of you the cute dates, Agatha enjoyed it all. She may have even gone as far as to say she loved it. She loved spending time with you, she loved being around you, she loved talking to you.

“Y/n,” your name falling from her lips pulled you out of your laughter.

She hardly ever called you by your name. There was always a term of endearment to replace it. Whenever she did use your name, it felt serious. Yet when you look over to her, you see her eyes shining. You hadn’t seen Agatha scared many times, but it’s easy for you to pinpoint the fear in her eyes.

You hum in response, pulling your interlocked hands up to your lips and placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles.

The large breath she lets out does little to quell either of your nerves.

“I love you.”

Your eyes soften immediately as you stare at the older woman. Agatha waits for you to say something, anything. Her eyes are glued to the picnic blanket.

“Agatha,” her name is light on your tongue.

She hesitates, but eventually meets your gaze. There are tears welling up in your eyes, your emotions overwhelming you entirely.

The witch doesn’t know what to make of the situation. She doesn’t have to wonder for too long before your lips are on hers.

Her lips move against yours tentatively. The kiss is the exact opposite of the fiery woman delivering it. She lets you lead the kiss, hoping she’s reading the moment correctly.

You don’t want to break the kiss, but the breeze reminds you that you’re in a public park. You pull away from her slightly, hands cupping her face as you maintain eye contact.

“I love you too.”

All of the anxiety and fear leaves Agatha’s being. She smiles, fully; a sight that you’re always trying to get out of her.

“I can’t believe you have me confessing my love for you at a park, like some lovesick teenager,” Agatha jokes, smile not leaving her face.

“I always thought I’d say it first. I can't believe you beat me to it.”

Agatha wraps her arms around you, “ I’ll let you have the next relationship milestone, if that’ll make you feel better hun.”

You lean back into her hold, “No, no I like it when you get all nervous. It’s cute.”

Agatha squeezes you a bit causing you to yelp, “You’re lucky that I love you.”

You kiss her cheek, “ I love you too, you big softie.”

Agatha kiss your forehead, before resting her chin on your head.

“Only for you.”

[gyaruhana]

Hi Xae, have a good new year, I wanted to ask you if you could write about Kang Dae-ho (player 388) from Squid Game 2, where the reader joins Gihun's team and even though it's only been a few hours, she and Dae-ho already have chemistry and Dae-ho tells Gihun's friend how pretty the reader is, making him a little angry and calling him a fool in love, ty ❤!

-🦊

Kang Dae-Ho/Player 388 - Fool in love

Synopsis: You and Dae-ho get along within the first second you meet - maybe it's meant to be?

A/N: Finally dropping this !! Dae-ho is so cutie and I love him sm

Warning: none !!

A game where death is lurking right around the corner is enough to send a chill down anyone’s spine. Especially yours. You only came here because you needed the money but you weren't confident that you'd be willing to die for it. The idea that you might die soon made you utterly afraid. You had a family that you'd most definitely like to go home to but most of the other players seemed far too keen to stay in this hell and it meant you were stuck there with them too.

On a more fortunate note, there seemed to be a previous winner amidst the hundreds of other players and you'd be damned if you didn't rely on someone who knew what he was doing. If he really was a winner, then he could predict the games. Maybe then you'd actually have a chance of getting out alive and with a lot of money.

“Hi. You're the guy from earlier who said that he played this before, right?” You ask as you stand in front of player 456. You thought maybe being his ally would make you feel better but, with the way he looked up at you, he was actually kind of scary. It's like his face had been frozen into a hard glare. Though, to be fair, he was apparently the sole survivor of the game he played so he must have suffered plenty of losses. You suppose you'd look that unhappy too if you lost people you cared about.

He gives you a nod as the other people sitting around look at you too. They looked a lot less terrifying than him which made you feel a bit better. “I was wondering if maybe I could stick with you guys? I don't really want to be on my own and, since you've played these games before, you can help, right?” you ask with a hopeful look. You were really hoping that they'd be welcoming to you. 

“Mm? Who are you?” Someone suddenly speaks and, when you look towards the voice, you see a boy with food stuffed in his mouth peeking out from around the corner. His eyes briefly widen when he sees you properly before he quickly puts his food down and jumps off the bed. “Of course, you can stick with us,” he says rather eagerly as the three men behind him give him a strange look.

“Ah, really? Thank you,” you say with a nervous grin as he practically pushes you to sit down. You honestly didn't expect to be welcomed with such open arms. Actually, maybe that wasn't really a team decision but you didn't complain because now you had a team who could protect you and that you could hopefully trust. 

“So, who are you?” He asks as he grabs his food from the bed before he sits down beside you with his legs crossed. He looked genuinely interested to know everything about you and it made your heartbeat a little faster. He was cute. That was for sure. So to have his eyes on you was certainly making you slightly nervous. You cleared your throat before introducing yourself as you tried to maintain eye contact with him.

He repeats your name as if testing out how it sounds when said from his own mouth. After a slight pause, he gives a slight nod of approval before speaking up again. “I'm Dae-ho. Kang Dae-ho,” he says with a smile. In all honesty, he had never seen someone as pretty as you. You really captivated his attention. He felt like he couldn't take his eyes off you.

“Kang Dae-ho,” you repeat quietly as you engrave the name into your mind. “That's a nice name,” you say with a small smile and he smiles too. “It's supposed to mean big tiger. Kang means big and Dae-ho means tiger,” he explains before taking a bite of his food. 

“Big tiger? You don't look very big,” you say with a small smile, teasing him slightly. He swallowed down his food before responding to your comment. “Wha-? I'm big! I was a marine,” he says with a proud smirk. You look at him and down and raise an eyebrow to send a clear message that you didn't believe him one bit.

“No, I'm serious!” He says before pulling his sleeve up to reveal his tattoo. “See?” He says as he makes sure you get a good look at it. “C'mon, anyone could get that tattooed on their arm,” you say and he immediately shakes his head in denial. 

“You still don't believe me? Maybe I need to show you my strength then,” he says with a small smile before throwing some gentle punches at you. You laugh at his actions as you two play fight - something that captures the attention of the other three that were sitting around. They look at you two before exchanging a glance between each other then looking away and trying to act as if you and Dae-ho aren't clearly forming some sort of chemistry right now.

The next few hours you had spent exclusively with Dae-ho talking about every little thing. You opened up to him about why you were in these games and what you had gone through and he listened so intently, it made your heart race. You swear your brain would short circuit when he looked at you with that look. When his head was tilted and his eyes said all the words he wanted to say with his mouth.

You couldn't believe you were crushing on a guy you just met. Sure, he was a good listener, funny, strong, nice, and everything else that makes someone perfect but you couldn't just fall in love with him. Hell, you're both in a game of death! One of you could die tomorrow so you really shouldn't be letting your heart race at 100 miles per hour just because he's cute.

Before the both of you knew it, there was already five minutes until lights out and you'd all have to go to sleep to have energy for tomorrow’s game. You looked over at Dae-ho before speaking up. “Dae-ho, I'll be back. I'm just going to use the restroom,” you say with a small smile. When he nods his head, you wave before walking off quickly towards the door. He watched as you knocked on it before having it opened by a guard and then promptly disappearing round the corner. 

He let out a sigh before turning around and walking over to Jung-bae. You were so pretty. He honestly couldn't believe you were real. Maybe his brain had made you up as a coping mechanism? You were just so perfect in his eyes. Everything he could possibly want. God, he'd love to take you to dinner sometime when both of you get out of this place so he can give you the love and attention you deserve. He just wished that he could cover your face in kisses for hours on end and hold your hand while taking a walk together. He didn't care if it was cliche. It didn't matter because it was for you.

He finally made it to Jung-Bae and took a seat next to him quietly. He shifted slightly to rest his chin on his hand and waited for Jung-Bae to ask what was on his mind. It was quiet for a few moments as Jung-bae chose to pretend like Dae-ho definitely didn’t have anything to say about you so Dae-ho made the quick decision to let out another sigh- this time much louder to catch Jung-bae’s attention and force him to ask what's on his mind.

Jung-bae turns to look at him with slight annoyance. “What? Don't just sit there and sigh. What is it?” Jung-bae asks as Dae-ho turns to look at him with a shy smile. “She’s so pretty,” he says with his face flushed slightly red, embarrassed that he was fawning over you like this. “Huh?” Jung-bae responds, confused about what he was talking about. 

“Her. She’s so pretty. She has the most amazing laugh and the cutest smile and-” Dae-ho begins to speak before receiving a smack over the back of his head making him shut up. The smile on his face drops as he looks at Jung-bae like a confused puppy.

“You're such a fool. You just met her a few hours ago,” he says as he shakes his head in disapproval. Dae-ho laughs nervously as he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I guess.. but still. She's so perfect,” he says in poor defense. 

He hears the door open and his head snaps towards it immediately. He was hoping it was you because he already missed talking to you, even if it's only been a few minutes since you left for the bathrooms. When he sees you, he quickly smiles and, if he was a dog, anyone would see his tail wagging back and forth. Jung-bae let out a sigh and shook his head like some father who was disappointed in his son.

“You're planning to ask her out, aren't you?” He says only to get an immediate response.

“absolutely,”