#they keep trying to kill him and he keeps surviving

[weirdwyvern]

okay but now once more, from the brother's point of view.

You're a vampire now, and it blows in a lot of ways. You have to slather on a ton of heavy-duty sunscreen just to go out during the day. You keep pricking your lips and tongue on your new fangs because you aren't used to having them yet. Blood doesn't even taste that good, but you HAVE to drink it or else you'll shrivel up and…re-die, or something.

It takes some adjusting. But it gets easier, bit by bit. Your mom hauls out the oldest cookbook you've ever seen, something your grandma's grandma must have used, and dinner that evening features blood sausage. Your dad picks you up a mouth guard that accounts for your fangs, and you don't really need to sleep so much anymore, but it keeps you from waking yourself up every time you accidentally jab your tongue. You look around online and find some how-tos on getting your dog to chill out about your new undead status – all of them warned you that it's gonna take some time, but your dog already figured out how to undo childproof locks to get into the pantry, so you're pretty sure it can figure this out, too.

(Your best friend jokes that the chicks are gonna be all over you now, and you laugh along and promise to leave room in your busy schedule for him when you're drowning in women. You don't have the heart to tell him about the looks people have been giving your fangs.)

There are little things in-between the annoyances of vampirism that are pretty cool, honestly. You can see a lot better in the dark, and it blows your mind just how many animals come out when the sun sets and everyone goes home. You heal faster, too, which is convenient when you scratch up your hands and knees trying (read: failing) to do a kickflip for the thousandth time.

You miss how things were. A lot. Every time you look back, it seems like things were easier – but you'd thought that back in middle school, too. Even though you're technically dead now, vampirism starts to feel more and more survivable.

And then you hear your sibling lament you like you're gone. You start noticing the ways they've changed – how they draw away when you draw near, how much harder they recoil when you reach to mess up their hair, how much more desperate they are to escape your headlocks even though all you're trying to do is noogie them like usual.

They never want to hang out anymore. Sometimes it feels like they don't even want to look at you.

You find out about the bullies when your sibling comes home with a busted lip and sore ribs. It's rude to eavesdrop, but they won't let you help patch them up so your mom does it instead, and you just happen to be passing by when she asks who did it and you want names–

But then your sibling begs her not to tell you about it, because they don't want anyone to die.

It takes a moment to form a coherent thought after hearing that, because the fear is about as far removed from reality as possible. At best you'd get some of your friends together and go give the bullies some hell, tell 'em leave your sibling the hell alone if they didn't want you coming out to beat their asses on the regular. Killing this Jason shithead hadn't even crossed your mind.

Your mom asks what they're talking about. Your sibling is convinced, convinced that you're gonna go on a killstreak and end some lives over this. Your mom, again, asks what on earth they're talking about. Why would you kill anyone? Why would they think you would kill anyone?

"Because he– because it's a vampire!"

Your mom isn't at ALL impressed with that response. Busts out the full name and everything. But you don't stick around to listen further.

You haven't even done anything wrong. You've been forcing normalcy back into your life the best you can, trying to jam it in like with an overfull suitcase. Your friends say they still like you and your parents say they still love you and your sibling said that you being a vampire doesn't change anything, but apparently your sibling was lying the whole time even though they still laugh at your stupid jokes and play video games with you and send you memes when they're supposed to be paying attention in class. Like how siblings do.

You're their brother. You're STILL their brother.

Don't they know that?

Keep seeing that post where OP starts like 'Thinking about...grieving the undead' and then adds on about like. Real life situations where people have not died but have left your life and you would have reason to grieve them.

All respect, that's an important concept, but that is not what I am thinking about when I read 'grieving the undead'.

[solelifauna]

Definitely NOT Invincible (Yandere Invincible & Reader)

Pt.5

Guys, I'm cooked. Anyways, thank you for all the kind words!!! Also Y/n's cooked too...anyways! Enjoy!

ALSO!! EVERYONE THANK @oof-spoof!! THIS SERIES IS NOW BASICALLY DEDICATED TO THEM!!! Thank you @oof-spoof for supporting me!

The group fell into a heavy silence, the weight of your words sinking in as if the world itself had pressed down on your shoulders. It wasn’t just about stopping Omni-Man and Invincible or sending that crucial tip to the Guardians of the Globe—it was about surviving long enough to make any of it matter.

The irrefutable fact lingered in the back of everyone’s mind, unspoken but looming: you might be killed again.

Your stomach churned at the thought, the memory of your father’s hand crushing your skull replaying in vivid, excruciating detail. The sound, the pressure, the blinding pain—it haunted you in ways you couldn’t even articulate. And if not that, then what? Would it be a more horrific death this time? Burned alive? Torn apart?

You looked around the table, the same realization written on the faces of your friends. Hallie was biting her lip, staring blankly at the table as her fingers drummed nervously. Connor’s jaw was clenched, his fists curled tightly on his lap. Weston was silent, his expression unreadable, but his tired eyes betrayed him.

Finally, Weston broke the silence. “I’ll figure out how to send the tip,” he said, his voice quiet but resolute. His gaze shifted between each of you before landing back on his hands. “You guys focus on keeping our… other obligation in check.”

Shit. You’d completely forgotten about the Demogorgons. Those damn things hadn’t been on your radar for the past few days, but they were still out there, roaming the town, lurking in shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Judging by the groans and sighs from Connor and Hallie, they’d forgotten too.

“Everyone still has their things, right?” you asked, already mentally cataloging what you had at home.

Hallie sat up straighter, brushing her hair out of her face. “Got my pump action and bolt action in my trunk and in my closet,” she said, her voice steadier than her posture.

Connor leaned back, rubbing his temples. “Got ammo and a G-48, Haymitch's axe, and the machete,” he listed off, his tone bordering on exhaustion.

“I still have the smoke bombs and my dad’s rifle he thinks he sold,” Weston added, his voice low but firm.

You nodded, storing the information away. “Good. We’ll need all that and more.”

The silence that followed was thick with understanding. You’d fought these monsters before. You’d survived the impossible. But this time, it wasn’t just about survival. It was about holding the line, balancing the dual threats of the Demogorgons and the looming Viltrumite takeover.

"I say we prepare for the worst," you finally say, your voice cutting through the silence. "Stock up on ammo when you can, supplies, canned food, and whatever else we’ll need. We have to be ready in case everything goes to shit again, in case… in case what we do doesn’t work—"

“Don’t.” Connor’s voice cuts you off, sharp and sudden. “Don’t say that, (Y/n).”

You flinch at the rawness in his voice, the sheer force of his words.

“Connor—” you start, but he barrels forward, his frustration spilling over like a dam breaking.

“It has to work!” he says, his voice trembling. “It has to, or else—” He looks away, jaw tight, his hands clenching into fists. “Or else that means we fought for nothing. That means all those people who died—who are going to die—died for nothing. That means we came back for nothing.”

His words hang in the air, raw and painful. You feel them hit you like a punch to the gut.

Your lips press together tightly as you try to find something—anything—to say. Connor was always the "strong" one of the group, the silent type, the brash one who rarely let anyone see how deeply he felt things. He was the backbone, the shoulder everyone else could lean on when things got tough. Seeing him like this, unraveling, hurts more than you want to admit.

“I’m—I’m sorry, Connor,” you finally manage, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No, I’m sorry,” he mutters, his eyes watery as he scrubs at his face with the back of his hand. His voice cracks slightly as he continues, “You—you’re just doing what you always do, trying to keep us alive. I’m sorry.”

“Please don’t apologize, Con,” you say quickly, leaning forward slightly, trying to catch his gaze. “I—I get it. Really, I do.”

The tension around the table is palpable. Hallie and Weston exchange uneasy glances, their worry for Connor evident in the grim lines of their faces.

“Connor,” Hallie starts gently, her voice low and careful, “nobody’s saying what happened before will happen again, but—”

“I know,” he cuts her off, his voice quieter now, almost resigned. He lets out a shaky breath and sinks back in his seat, rubbing a hand over his face. “I know. But we have to consider the high chance it will.”

The stakes couldn’t be higher, and the thought of failing—of going through all of it again—was unbearable.

But you didn’t have a choice.

You glanced at each of them in turn, taking in their tired faces, the fear lingering in their eyes. They were your family, your only anchor in a world that felt increasingly impossible to navigate.

“We’ll make it work,” you say softly, your voice steady despite the storm inside you. “I don’t know how yet, but we will.”

You don’t know if they believe you, and honestly, you’re not even sure if you believe yourself. 

Weston’s hand comes to rest on Connor’s shoulder, rubbing little circles in that gentle, soothing way he always did to calm the group down. It was such a Weston thing to do—he had always been physical with his care and affection, expressing his love in small touches and gestures that reminded you all you weren’t alone. You see Connor’s shoulders relax just slightly under Weston’s touch, though the tension doesn’t completely leave him.

You shift closer, moving to sit beside Connor, offering your silent presence as support. Across the table, Hallie slides her water bottle toward him, her brow furrowed in worry. “Here,” she says softly. Her voice doesn’t waver, but her eyes betray the depth of her concern. Connor takes the bottle with a small, muttered “thanks,” and sips from it, his gaze distant.

The weight of the moment settles over all of you, thick and suffocating. No one says anything for a while, and for a brief moment, the only sound is the distant hum of chatter from other tables in the courtyard.

Then the lunch bell rings, cutting through the stillness like a knife, signaling it’s time to go back to class. The sound sends a jolt through you, and you see the same dread reflected in everyone’s faces. None of you want to go. Yet, there was nothing you could do.

You all stand reluctantly, gathering your things in silence. Before you split up, you squeeze Connor’s shoulder gently, hoping it conveys what you can’t find the words to say. He offers a faint smile.

You walk into the crowded hallway, your mind scrambling as you try to recall your next class. What was it? You swear you knew just minutes ago, but now the information is gone, like a wisp of smoke slipping through your fingers.

You glance around desperately, hoping to recognize a familiar face, someone who might share the class with you. But the sea of students around you is a blur of faces you barely recognize. Who the hell are these people? You don’t remember their names, their voices, their stories. They’re strangers, even though you know you should know them.

Panic creeps up your spine as you weave through the hall, your breathing growing shallow. You’re losing it. You’re losing yourself, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. The realization claws at you, sharp and unrelenting.

You hate this. You hate what this world, what this second chance, has reduced you to. What it’s reduced all of you to.

Your hands tremble as you tighten your grip on your bag, willing the shaking to stop, but it doesn’t. You pass classrooms, peeking inside, hoping something will click—a desk, a teacher, a face. But nothing does.

The hallways start growing emptier as students file into their classrooms, the bustling energy fading into a deafening quiet. You glance around, the panic tightening in your chest. Where the hell were you supposed to go?

Your mind scrambles, trying to latch onto something—anything—that will tell you your next class. The answer eludes you, slipping through your fingers like sand. You fumble with your phone, attempting to log into your student portal. At least that would show your schedule, right?

Except the password isn’t auto-saved. Of course, it isn’t.

You sit there staring at the login screen, willing your brain to remember your credentials, but nothing comes. It’s just another blank void. Great. Now you can’t even see your schedule, let alone your grades. Not that grades should be at the top of your concerns right now, but still, the thought gnaws at the back of your mind. You’re so screwed.

You lean against a row of lockers, the cold metal biting into your back as you let out a frustrated sigh. What the hell do I do now? Asking the front desk for help is out of the question. It’s the middle of the school year, and no one forgets their schedule this far in. It would raise questions. And why couldn’t you just look it up yourself? The idea of facing that judgment makes you cringe.

No, you can’t do that.

Instead, you resign yourself to staying in a random, empty hallway, slumping down against the wall. The quiet envelops you, a brief respite from the overwhelming noise in your head. You close your eyes for a moment, letting the silence settle around you. God, you didn’t realize how much your eyes were burning, how much your body ached.

The idea of just staying here, hidden and still, is so tempting. Maybe you could just chill here for a while. Yeah, that sounded nice. Just a little break.

You don’t realize how much time passes as you sit there, your mind drifting between the chaos of your thoughts and the exhaustion weighing you down. For a brief moment, you feel the smallest sliver of peace.

Until a voice shatters it.

“Playing hooky, (Y/n)?”

Your stomach drops. No. Not him. Not now.

Mark’s voice carries that unmistakable mix of smugness and sharpness, the tone that always made you want to squirm. “Tch, Mom and Dad are not going to be happy. Especially after the last meeting your counselor had about your little habit of skipping classes.”

You open your eyes, and there he is, standing over you with a smirk that makes you want to curl in on yourself. His eyes bore into yours, sharp and calculating, as if he’s dissecting you piece by piece.

“W-what? When did—oh shit,” you stammer, the memory hitting you like a brick. He’s talking about the meeting. You’d skipped a bunch of classes last semester to deal with the Demogorgons. Sure, you kept your grades up, but that didn’t stop the school from calling your mom. And to say she was upset was an understatement.

Mark’s smirk widens as he watches the realization dawn on your face. “Ah, there it is,” he says mockingly, leaning against the wall. “I’m sure Mom will love hearing about this. You know how she feels about second chances.”

You glare at him, the panic in your chest now mixed with frustration. “Mark, I—look, just don’t. Please.”

His expression softens, but only slightly. There’s still that edge to his voice, that unnerving mix of concern and menace. “Don’t what? Tell her? You’re not making this easy, you know. Skipping class, hiding out like this… It’s like you want her to freak out.”

“I just—” You falter, your words failing you. The exhaustion, the stress, the sheer overwhelming nature of everything—it’s all too much. You can’t think of a good excuse, and Mark’s gaze feels like it’s cutting through every lie you might try to tell.

He crouches down, leveling his eyes with yours. “What’s going on with you, (Y/n)?” he asks, his voice softer now but no less piercing. “You’ve been off. I know you’re not telling me everything.”

You look away, unable to meet his gaze.

Mark’s words linger in the air like a trap, waiting for you to fall in. “Are you depressed or something? Maybe it’s a boy? I don’t know, (Y/n), but something’s off. I know it is,” he says, his tone dripping with faux concern. “Just tell me. Tell your big brother, and I can make it go away.”

The irony of it all hits you like a freight train, and you can’t help it—you huff, then giggle, and then it all spirals out of control. A laugh bubbles out of you, wild and uncontainable, quickly escalating into full-blown hysterics. You’re wheezing now, clutching your sides, and you know you must look insane. Maybe you are. How could you not be?

It’s funny, really. The idea that he, Mark, could fix your problems. That he could “make it go away.” It’s laughable because a massive chunk of your problems is sitting right in front of you, watching you unravel with that same calculating smirk. How utterly absurd.

Your laughter devolves into choked breaths as your chest tightens painfully. The tears come next, hot and relentless, spilling down your cheeks. You’re sobbing now, loud and ugly, your body shaking uncontrollably.

Mark’s expression shifts, surprise flickering in his eyes. Then something darker takes hold—something intrigued, almost amused. He wasn’t expecting this, but oh, was he glad. He leans in closer, his lips curling into a softer smile. There was something seriously wrong with you. He knew it now. And that knowledge only made him more eager to figure out what had happened to his weak, adorable little sister.

“Oh, (Y/n),” he coos, his voice deceptively sweet as he cups your cheek with his large, warm hand. His thumb brushes against your tear-streaked skin, wiping away the evidence of your breakdown. His touch is firm but gentle, an unnerving mix of comfort and control.

You try to flinch away, your instincts screaming at you to get out of his grasp, but your body betrays you. Exhausted and overwhelmed, you slump into his hand, your head tilting slightly as if seeking solace. You hate it. You hate yourself for it. But you’re only human, and his warmth feels like the only anchor keeping you from completely spiraling.

“St-stop this,” you choke out between sobs, your voice barely audible. “Puh-please.”

Mark tilts his head, his expression almost mockingly innocent. “Stop what, (Y/n)?” he asks softly, his voice laced with feigned confusion.

“This,” you gasp, your voice trembling. “This—what you—you’re doing. Please, it—it isn’t fair.”

His hand doesn’t move from your cheek, and his thumb continues its slow, deliberate motion, wiping away fresh tears as they fall. His smile softens further, but his eyes remain sharp, predatory.

“Fair?” he echoes, as if tasting the word. “Oh, (Y/n). Life isn’t fair. You know that.” His voice drops lower, almost a whisper. “But you don’t have to worry about that. You don’t have to worry about anything. That’s what I’m here for.”

You shake your head weakly, your sobs growing quieter but no less intense. “You—”

He interrupts you gently, his voice soothing but utterly condescending. “Shh. Just let me take care of you.”

The words send a chill down your spine, the weight of his intent pressing down on you. You know there’s no escaping him now, not when he’s latched onto you like this. Not when he’s decided you’re his problem to solve, his little sister to protect—even if it means breaking you further in the process.

Mark’s gaze lingers on your trembling form, his hand still cradling your cheek. He studies you with a mix of curiosity and calculation, the wheels turning in his mind as he contemplates your place in all of this. Maybe he could make something useful out of you. Maybe you could be shaped into something worthy of the Viltrumite cause.

But as he takes in your tear-streaked face, the way your body shakes beneath his touch, he doubts it. You’re too weak. Too small. Too soft.

It’s almost pathetic how fragile you are, how human you are.

Still, the thought lingers—what if? What if you could prove yourself? What if, against all odds, you showed even the slightest potential? Perhaps then he could convince their father to keep you after the takeover. It would be difficult, of course. Nolan had little patience for weakness, and you were the embodiment of everything the Viltrumite race despised. But if you somehow managed to prove your worth, there was a chance.

Mark’s lips curve into a faint smile, the thought of sparing you for his mother’s sake bringing him a strange sense of satisfaction. You weren’t ideal offspring, no, far from it. But you were her daughter. Debbie would appreciate having you around, he’s sure of it, especially when their father inevitably takes her away from Earth to shield her from the chaos of their conquest.

“You’re lucky, you know,” Mark murmurs, his voice low and smooth. His thumb pauses for a moment, pressing lightly against your cheekbone as his eyes bore into yours. “If it weren’t for Mom, I wouldn’t even consider giving you a chance. But maybe… maybe you’ll surprise us.”

You blink at him, your chest tightening as his words sink in. “A-a chance? Mark, what are you—”

He cuts you off, his smile widening slightly, but there’s no warmth in it. “You’ll see,” he says cryptically, pulling his hand away and standing to his full height. His shadow looms over you, and for a brief moment, you feel like you’re shrinking under his gaze.

“Just remember, (Y/n),” he adds, his tone shifting to something colder, more deliberate. “This world isn’t kind to people like you. But you’re lucky to have me. I’ll make sure you don’t get left behind.”

The words feel like a promise and a threat all at once, leaving you frozen in place as he turns and walks away, his presence lingering long after he’s gone.

You’re left alone in the empty hallway, your breaths shaky and uneven, the weight of his intentions pressing down on you like a vice. Lucky, he said. But you don’t feel lucky. You feel trapped. And no amount of tears can wash that feeling away.

You sit there, slumped against the wall, trying to process what the hell Mark was talking about. “If it weren’t for Mom?” What does that even mean? Why would she have anything to do with whether Mark decided to “give you a chance?” What kind of chance was he even talking about?

Your mind spirals as you try to make sense of his cryptic words, the unease clawing at your insides. The idea that your mother somehow factored into whatever twisted plans Mark had for you only made the knot in your stomach tighten. What was he planning? What did he mean by not getting left behind?

Your thoughts race, one question bleeding into the next as panic wells up inside you. You can’t piece it together. You don’t have enough information. But the way he looked at you—the cold calculation behind his eyes, the way his words felt like a threat wrapped in false care—it makes your skin crawl.

You bury your face in your hands, your breathing shallow as your mind loops through the interaction. What the hell is going on?

Meanwhile, Mark is on his way out of the school building, his phone already in hand. He dials the familiar number, his expression cool and composed. The phone rings only twice before the unmistakable voice of his father, Nolan, answers.

“What is it?” Omni-Man’s voice is gruff, direct, as always.

Mark leans against the wall outside, his tone calm but tinged with a quiet urgency. “It’s about (Y/n),” he begins, cutting straight to the point. “There’s something off with her. More than usual.”

On the other end of the line, Nolan sighs. His voice is bored, disinterested. “Mark, your sister has always been like this. Emotional and a bit erratic. It’s nothing new.”

Mark clenches his jaw but keeps his tone steady. “No, Dad, this is different. She’s acting weird—like, really weird. Come’on, I’m sure you’ve noticed how she’s stopped constantly asking to go out with us? Or how everytime she looks at one of us, her heart rate always increases, hell, I could smell the adrenaline rush that gets triggered.”

Nolan’s silence stretches for a moment. “Dad, why is she having a fight or flight, fear response triggered, huh?”

“Of course I’ve noticed, Mark,” Omni-man sighs out. “If it’s worth worrying about, I’ll handle it. But until then, she’s just…” He pauses, and Mark can practically see the look on his father’s face. “She’s still a human.”

Mark exhales sharply, but he doesn’t argue. He knows better than to push Nolan when he’s like this. “Fine,” he says, his voice tight. “But if I find out something important, I’ll let you know.”

“Do that,” Nolan replies curtly, and the line goes dead.

Mark slips his phone back into his pocket, his expression unreadable. He’s not entirely satisfied with his father’s response, but he’s also not surprised. Nolan has never had much patience for what he considers “mundane human nonsense.” If (Y/n)’s behavior didn’t involve anything worthy of the Viltrumite cause, it simply wasn’t a priority to him.

Still, Mark can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to this than his father realizes. And if Nolan won’t take it seriously, then Mark will.

[midnite-c6]

Hear me out. Pink Guard Reader (any shape guard; triangle/square/circle) who watches the contestants of this horrendous game fight for the money that glows above them and their own survival for it. Pink Guard Reader who notices two particular contestants, Nam-Gyu and Thanos. Both of them seemingly seem to stand out amongst all the players since everyone seems to be taking these games seriously besides those two, mainly. You keep a watchful eye upon them (and perhaps, sneakily help them in some situations...maybe, saving their lives at one point...?) and it doesn't take for one of them to notice and inform the other. And they now keep a particular eye on you, and perhaps, when they see you standing alone in a certain area with your pink guard uniform and mask..IDK, PLEASE HEAR ME OUT

guys tables turned!!! tthank thank..tjanks for sharing to the class hahahahahah PURRRRR. omg the way theyd absolutely look down on u bcuz like ure the one supposed to kill them and be evil so why r u being so nice? (they take advantage of this ofc) 🫶🏻

thanos & namgyu x pinkguard!reader warnings: 18+, DARK content, dubcon

つ⁠｡⁠☆ you were just so intrigued by them! i mean, they were literally treating the games like... games. no deaths, no consequences, just fun! they were insane. you liked insane, tho. you'd even save them in the game mingle. unfairly killing other players. you wanted them to live because.. you were bored, and they kept the games fun, anyways.

it was now dinner time, when the two guys would line up for their own share of food, thanos would notice it was you! the same guard that saved them since the button on your jacket was slightly broken,, "my bro, can i get extra?" he'd press his hands together, and you'd happily give him extra because, why not? nam-gyu was just behind him, asking the same, he'd even give a polite thank you.

both of them noticed how they were the only ones getting unfair advantages, so when everyone's too busy with their food or talking to their groups, they walk up to you, as you were standing guard next to the bathrooms. you couldn't speak, since you'd be scolded to talk without permission, but the two have got nothing to lose, and they'd make it their life's goal to bother you. "pst. triangleee facee. talk to us!" thanos would poke you, his other hand occupied by the extra milk you gave him earlier. "ah, this dude's boring."

thanos would even offer the small pills inside his cross necklace, you politely decline. simply shaking your head. "do you think there's a person inside there?" nam-gyu would press on your mask as he wonders, "you're right! what if this guy is just a robot..? shiit. technology is getting good." nam-gyu would stare at you intently, trying to find something underneath that mask. he'd take his hands to touch your chest and stomach, in search of any indications on your body, of course, the touch makes you jolt. you immediately point your gun at him. "woah, woah ..my bad." he says as he puts both of his hands up. "ah, fuck dude you angered him!" they'd both laugh, and you lower your firearm. "so it must be a human." thanos would get all up in your face. "hey, tell me, man, why'd you save us?" you can't answer. "why can't you speaaak??" he was getting frustrated, clearly. you'd only turn your face to the guard with a square on his mask, signaling him as your superior. "i think if he talks, that guy would get mad." "ohhh yeah no shit, dude." and before you could react, thanos quickly pulls you to the mens bathroom, guess you have no choice but to speak now..

"there! surely you could speak now!" he exclaims and after a few seconds of contemplating, you would speak, although the voice is distorted , "that's correct."

"take off your mask then." such a straight-forward request, but you'd do it with no protest, you're just the same as them, nothing to lose. once you've lifted your mask to rest ontop of your head, you'd happily breathe in the cold air. the two stares at you dumbfoundedly. "fuck dude, your pills are starting to make me go crazy." "me too bro!!" "is it just me or are you also seeing a chick?" player 124 would rub his eyes with his hands. "what the fuuuuuuuuck." you'd only snort at their comments. "hey! you've been shootin' people , huh?" the purple-haired one would scold, "is there something wrong with that?" nam-gyu chuckles, "bet she looked hot doing it, to be honest." thanos touches your face with his hand. "you're like.. a guardian angel to us." you're embarrassed honestly, it was such an awkward moment. they'd both look at each other at that moment, reaching to some kind of decision, "hell yea, do i wanna fuck my guardian angel."

nsfw below!!-> 💘

"mmph-. god. fucking a murderer feels crazy." thanos happily blurts out in groans, as he pushes heavily inside you, putting in all his weight , balls deep inside your pussy. you couldn't moan out, with nam-gyu's cock shoved down your throat, his pace was much more abusive and mean than thanos', bruising your poor throat. they didn't even bother to go inside a stall, instead deciding to be right in the middle of the mens bathroom, where your suit was pushed to the side. they'd keep the gun slinged to your body, and your mask still slightly lifted up from your face, the mask stays on, what a hot image. the one thrusting inside your cunt was ecstatic, like he was so pent up he'd thank the gods he could put it all out inside you. "awwh.. pretty pink guard.." he would tuck your hair behind your ears, your forehead dripping with sweat. "pretty pink pussy n' all. you're so evil.." nam-gyu would also thrust far too deep, making you gag, your hands would grip on player 124's legs, letting him know that he was going too rough! and for what! "you're tough, i'm sure you can take it." and he goes even faster! it was like they were punishing you for only doing your job, not even bothering to say thank you for saving them :(

...sadly, the rules are strict when it comes to being a guard. and you've been gone for way too long, atleast you went out with a bang! literally.

I MADE THIS SO SILLY 😭🙏🏻. guys sorry mah brain nawt working LOLs but they can do it day and night every position until i learn fluent korean fr. born to ride both forced to only write and read for them😿 maybe i make masterlist after this 🤨

[mocchii-writes]

can you do a dae ho fic, with him being super protective and defending the reader, but she shows her own strength (maybe even saving him) and he is so star struck and falls in love immediately

She's the Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene

Paring: Kang Dae-ho x fem!reader Summary: Dae-ho felt the need to protect you, but didn't expect how starstruck he could be when you returned the favor. Words: 1k Warnings: death, guns, swearing, violence, normal squid game stuff lols A/n: I hope I didn't make this too Y/n lmao ♡ ~🍡🍡

It's definitely hard to trust people here, to say the least. You see it all, just about. The blood of hundreds stains your clothes, and the screams you’ll probably have in your nightmares feel like a fever dream. Your survival instinct can only get you so far, though, and you know it. You need to find a backup.

You expect some kind of weapon to fill the gap in your barrier. You could break a mirror in the bathrooms, maybe? It's an understatement to say the supplies are limited, and you just barely make it through the last game. You can tell you're a target. Maybe not a huge one, but everybody here has someone after them, and it's easy and difficult at the same time to be discreet here.

But it isn't a weapon you get for help--it's a man. He doesn't hesitate to help you out when you need it, and you know that he’s valuable in this setting. You call him Dae-ho. Probably because that's his name, but it still has some meaning to you. Hopefully to him, too. It feels right, rolling off of your tongue, but you digress.

He seems to care about you, at least compared to some of the heartless shells of people here. You've both found solace in each other, and he truly made you feel safe, even if you had only known each other for a few days. You talk to one another. He tells you about his life, his past. You tell him about your past, your life. It's a small feeling of comfort, at least to you.

You're snapped out of your thoughts at the sound of lights out being announced by that cold voice that makes your skin shiver. You kick your legs, sitting on a bed as you look at Dae-ho across the room. He's discussing something with his little group. He'd previously invited you to join, but you said you'd rather keep your circle small. You swing your legs, looking at his face. It's very serious, but he's pretty far away. He says something, and then you feel his eyes on you. He nods briefly at someone else as he heads to you. Your face shows concern as his serious demeanor doesn't falter.

"You need to be near us tonight, preferably in our base." You think he's joking, but you don't laugh, just in case.

""Base"?" You ask, smiling. "Why?" He rolls his eyes a bit, but you can't say you blame him. "I can handle myself." He raises an eyebrow and smiles.

"I'm not going to argue with you about that, but I could." You squint at him but chuckle. "Mr. Seong says people are going to fight tonight. He has a plan to keep us safe, and he said you can join."

"I thought we were gonna place bets." You smile. "My money is on that greasy guy who hangs out with the purple-haired asshole." He doesn't look amused, so you sigh. "How do you know he's not trying to get you killed?" You ask, dropping your egotistic demeanor.

"All he does is try to help us. Please." He says, pleading with you to have some common sense. You knew you would eventually accept, but you didn't like the thought.

"I'll think about it, alright?" He sighs and smiles a little. He knows he should take what he can get, but he hates the thought of someone hurting you.

Dae-ho isn't sure why he's taken the responsibility to protect you, but he has. He thinks of you like a flower sometimes. He can't make you take care of yourself if you don't want to, but he knows he's going to protect you anyway because everybody deserves a chance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were lost in your thoughts, breaking out when you hear the robotic voice again.

"Player 230, 401, 299, 331, and 268, eliminated."

What? How? Your eyes track the room and land on Dae-ho, who's staring at the guards, confused. You make eye contact briefly, before people emerge from the bathrooms.

They go on to accuse each other of attacking the opposing team, creating an edge in the room. You're not listening very closely, though. Maybe Dae-ho was on to something when he said you should hide tonight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Update: He very much was right.

But you can't really think about that because there are far bigger issues at hand.

The lights are flickering so intensely you're afraid they might explode, and there's too much yelling and screaming to organize your thoughts. People are moving everywhere like scattering ants, and everything is a weapon for everyone. There's blood, a lot of it, all over the floor. You run, but it's like playing operation with corpses. You have scrapes from falling off your bed and defending yourself as you regret acting tough to Dae-ho.

Your ears are ringing, only because of a punch you just took. Everything is moving at the speed of light, and you don't have time to catch up. You kick back and stun the other person enough to run away. You feel a hand on your shoulder as you whip around, ready to fight.

To your brief luck, it's Dae-ho. He says something you can't hear and then pushes you behind him. You almost scoff if you weren't truly afraid for your life. He punches the person following you but quickly takes one himself. You try to move him, but he blocks your entrance again. You shout to him, telling him to let you help, but he probably can't hear you. You see someone holding a glass bottle sprinting to you, and your instinct finally kicks in. Literally.

You shift to the left and swiftly kick them, stunning them enough to drop their bottle as you punch them, their head ramming against a bed frame as they slide down, eyes closed. You force yourself to look away from the small pool of blood forming and push down the sick feeling in your stomach. You look for Dae-ho, to see him still fighting. He appears to be losing, though you can't hold it against him.

You don't hesitate to pull the guy off of him, grabbing his shirt from behind and throwing him down as best you could. He sits up, but you kick him hard in the face, knocking him out. You're better at this than you thought. You see another lady running to you, screaming. You quickly pick up the discarded glass bottle and shatter it against her skull. The lights turn on as guards rush in, appearing to stop the fighting.

You pant, wiping unknown blood from your face as you look to Dae-ho. You expect him to look horrified at least, but he's simply staring at you. You tilt your head at him.

"You... handled that." He says, grabbing your arm and bringing you to his "base".

"I said I could," you smirk, "You seem surprised."

"No, I'm impressed." He laughs dryly.

That stressful moment didn’t feel like it would ever end, but it did, and you found yourself still standing. Or at least, still breathing. Dae-ho was too, which was the only thing you cared about at the moment. You leaned against the wall, your body trembling from the adrenaline. He was sitting across from you, his eyes anywhere but you.

"You're full of surprises," he says, his body seemed to hint at something softer than what his voice did.

"You thought I wasn't?" you say, a smirk tugging at your lips.

"I never said that." He pauses, looking at his hands before looking at you. "I'm just happy you're okay."

His words linger in the air for a moment, and you’re unsure how to respond. You’d only met him a few days ago, but Dae-ho had become more than just an ally. He was someone you could trust in a place where trust was a gamble most people couldn’t afford to make.

"You didn't have to stick your neck out for me," you say, trying to sound nonchalant, but your voice wavers slightly.

"I wanted to," he replies simply, as though the decision had been easy. He finally drags his eyes to look at you. "You make this mess... bearable."

You feel your cheeks flush despite the blood coating your skin. His honesty is unexpected, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. Not anymore. You’d seen too much in such a short time to waste moments of purity.

"Dae-ho," you start, but his name on your tongue makes you falter. You take a breath and try again. "I don’t know how much longer either of us will make it here, but... you give me hope in this place, I guess."

His smile is small, but it reaches his eyes this time. He shifts closer, closing the space between you two. "Then we survive for each other. Okay?"

You nod, a warmth blooming in your chest that you hadn’t felt in what seemed like years.

For the first time in what feels like forever, the world outside of this moment feels small. The chaos, the blood, the fear—all of it fades away. In its place is Dae-ho, his presence holding your soul in an unfamiliar but welcome warmth.

You're both specks of dust in a hurricane, and you both know it. But, for this moment, you know you'll have a place to rest in the heart of this chaos. You can't say you're in love, but as he gently rests his hand over yours, you can't say you couldn't be.

So, I kind of love this, lmk what you think ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

~🍡🍡

[icarusredwings]

Succubus /angel au lore drop

@nuggetpool-hi thanks for some of the ideas.

Tw: mentions of sex, death and negitive treatment of sex workers/ forced prostitution (if you think about it)

Logan does often sleep. His vessel needs it. Wade doesn't need it but hes obsessed with napping in Logans bed.

It conviences both of their brains they're more then just casual and hook ups. But something more. Because even demons dreams about a semi settled life.

They physically sleep together, cuddle, share a singular bed, share a room, kiss all the time, and shower together. But (most days) this is stuff that happens before or after at least a quick blow job/rub/ or hump session.

It used to only be bjs but Logan actually, lovingly and passionately fucks him towards the end and this is when Wade decides to stay forever.

Wade "what do you mean you wanna keep the lights ON for sex and want to strip me and kiss my body??" Wilson

And yeah, logan calls him mouth. For verious reasons. In which wade IS the blowjob queen.

Logan thinks "feeding him just to keep him alive" is the most ethical thing (at the start) so like clock work once every 5 days he'd let Wade suck the shit out of him.

Ngl, logan kinda likes watching him so desperatly swallow it all- hes a bit selfish and greedy for an angel... though maybe thats why wade likes him.

Logan is definitely still gruff wife beater and jeans guy (but goes to church in button ups and ties) who still smokes his cigars and enjoys reading.

Sometimes, since wade cant touch the bible, logan reads it to him.

Logans spent so long on earth that he genuienly forgets hes an angel sometimes. Guy is like "ugh food is so expensive" and Wades like "You dont have to eat idiot."

Logan often forgets that he has a flaming sword and actually lost it at one point in time. Thats how he Met Kurt actually, because he asked Kurt for his sword back (that cloaks itself as a regular sword unless wielded by a winged angel, but logan never shows Kurt his wings. It would blow his cover)

Wade definitely has empathy- AND REJECTION SENSITIVITY

So TECHNICALLY wade can be fed by Logan just teasing him and telling him sexy things, rubbing his thigh and whispering how sexy he is, but this is more of a snack and logan would have to do it daily, while a good sized Load can feed him for a solid 4-5 days (but this is the bare minimum, Wade would gladly take a load daily, it would probably finally put some weight on him actually. Wade is very thin because of how unsucessful he is in finding prey that will sleep with him)

This is what people dont understand, though. They think they're just sexy monsters who want to take your soul (maybe idk), but Wade is genuinely caring and empathetic and very much capable of love.

It's not his fault he needs sex and to seduce people to survive, but Hell KNEW he was a burn victim, assumed he was on the playboy bus and decided to "Make him beg for it" for eternity, just like all the other girls on that bus (Succubai are originally female and can change their sex how ever they please- do what you will with this information COUGH trans wade COUGH)

Hell KNEW hed struggle to survive and still did it simply because they thought he was a sex worker. But Wade wasn't, he was a merc just trying to buy groceries when hit by a damn bus.

The bus hitting him isnt what killed him. It was the fire and explosion that happened afterwards. He was trapped underneath of the bus when it caught fire and blew up. He was screaming for help, sobbing and begging for anyones attention to the fact he was still alive.

What's even more not fair is that most of the girls died on impact to the brick wall rather then the fire or explosion so they are still very pretty and can manage a good amount of prey.

Aka, Wade got fucked (not literally unfortunately) just for being a bystander.

Yeah, hes killed people but he's heavily mentally ill and needed to find a way to put food on the table some how. Even if that way is by killing for money.

Oh and yes, Wade still has nightmares about how he died. Especially if Logan is laying on top of him, Wade dreams hes trapped under the bus, on fire, screaming for help and crying.. the thing about crying while on fire is though your tear ducts get burnt closed.

So now when ever he cries, it's not tears. More like blood.

So he will literally wake up to blood with a dash of tears on his face and it hurts to remember. This mans phantom pain is torture alone, let alone having to grovel at peoples feet to please fuck him or else he'll die..

Logan will kiss and hold him close, "its okay. Im sorry. Im so sorry. I didnt mean to squish you, i promise. Youre alright. I got you."

And yes, Logan is afraid of water. Not in the sense of showering but if wade asks him to take a bath with him he will shy away, he also dosnt like pools or the ocean, lakes or even ponds. He dosn't like water. Period. It reminds him of his death (and his wings get all soaked and puffy frim humidity)

Funfact: Both can become tiny. Imagine tiny Crowley.

Wade is 6'2 and becomes 6 inches. When hes tiny he's invisible to the naked eye and he chooses who can see him. This is how its so easy to be on kurts shoulder without getting caught. But logan cant be tiny unless he has his halo on, and thats a no no if hes having sex. So no tiny sex for them, but this does not stop wade from trying.

Sometimes he rides around on logan if Hes bored or clingy, but most times it goes like this.

Teeny wade: *spreads legs* Put it in me!

Logan, who can barley hear him: What??

Wade: IN!

Logan: WHAT!? NO!! That is not gonna fit you stupid idiot

Wade: hmmm.. youre right. What if i hump it? My big giant bean stalk! Gonna milk this cow too!

Logan: ... Im leaving... *walks away*

Wade: *sighs* Angels are so vanilla. Dont even wanna kill me with his cock <:/ does he even love me then??

Logan, from across the room: DUDE. YOU. WILL. DIE!!! It-its literally bigger then you!!

Wade: I know!! Thats the fun!

(Quick reminder that wade does not have a healing factor- hes insane.)

Technecally- Wade can eat logans ass and still be fed. Any sort of sexual desire or pleasure kinda makes him fed so this opens lots of new things. Hell- Logan can savagely dry hump him for 20 minutes and it would be enough for the day. This being said Logan dosnt have a refractoary period (angel stuff) so if he really wanted to be kind, he could give Wade multiple loads and have him fed for a month. Wade would still be hungry but not as much, seeing as if Logan wanted to feed him properly they'd have to have sex at least once a day, if not more for Wade to be fully taken care of meal wise.

OH! I dont think I mentioned this before either but they all live in the ministry together. So yes, there literally is a demon living in the church. With his angel lover.

Logan: This place is full of priests so dont do anything. Be on your best behaviour.

Wade @ the humans cause he knows Logan wont let them actually do anything to him:

Logan just walks in to see Wade twerking on the bed and the oldest of the fathers is like "Repent! Begone! Get off my bed you fowl fiend!!"

Logan: 😮‍💨🤦‍♂️

Imagine kurt comes over knocking on the door and is about to go on a date with Logan, and Logan tries not to moan while calling out "h-hold on! Im feeding my- EERR m-mY PET!" and ofc this only makes Wade deep throat him better with a purr and a tail wag cause YEAH. He is kinda feeding his pet aint he?

But NOW they have to get a pet or else itll blow logans cover so they get mary puppins, who is also an angel who unironically wont stop barking at them when theyre fuckin cause she thinks theyre fighting or something.

Along with their tiny forms, they have their true forms:

Logan: A big feathery fuck who you should INFACT be afraid of. Wade thinks hes gorgeous and really wishes he could fuck eyeballs but is aware of how much that would hurt.

Wade: Wade is very... curly from mouth washing in his true form. He dosn't like it. He has no lips or nose or ears, his eye sockets are engorged, his eyelids are practically gone, hes bleeding everywhere, mushy soft, in pain, crunchy and gummy-fied.

His earth form is much more healed looking and hurts less, but still does, to make himself feel better and more pretty, wade will paint hearts on his skin, giving himslef heart nipples, a belly button, and will paint on a happy trail of hearts. He has them on his shoulder, his forehead, hips, cheeks and tail, his legs and if he really thinks he looks ugly today, he'll draw them on his hands and ask Logan to paint them on his back too.

Wade has an extremely long tail, no its not as strong as kurts so he cant hang from it but he can hold coffee cups and jack someone off with it with ease.

Wade is also very thin and lean. His muscles on his arms are small, his calfs are barley there, his ass is there yeah, but two of his lower ribs are showing. (He has the sluttiest waste ever man)

Wade also has horns (blowjob handles!) Sharp teeth, dark fingers, ankles, toes, he has sharp ass claw feet, two large talons and one small one in the middle like a raptor. He also has claws on his fingers that he sometimes scratches logans back with but angel blood burns him (it hurts a lot) so they try not to do so much blood play in this au.

Logan also does not have claws in the sense of it comes out of his arm, but he does have nails. He also looks like a tired youth pastor whos lowkey about to leave the church if they make him tell little kids about abstinence one more time. Or a camp counceler whos TIRED of everyone's shit and just in general.... for.. obvious reasons..

Something something I really love my bed, but, man, it's hard to sleep when he's with me Olivia Rodrigo 😩😉

[charmedimsure]

Hi i like to make an request for an Nam-gyu x fem player oneshot or headcanons whatever works better with you to write with - for reader join their team cause she was once a background dancer during one of thanos shows and is loyal to him but falling for the more brutal (cinnamon roll!) Nam-gyu slowly during the games?

Shadow of Loyalty

pairing: Nam-gyu x f!reader

summary: You get dragged onto the team of a rapper you used to dance for, but you can't complain when another team member keeps giving you that cute smile.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: guns, death, drugs, blood, squid game stuff

A/N: i've been wanting to write for nam-gyu but couldn't think of anything so ty 🙏 if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3

"Hey," a voice says behind you. You turn, seeing a girl with short hair standing there. She wears a choker, as well as a nose ring and lip ring. "Do you have a team yet?"

You smile at her, shaking your head. "No."

"We should team up," she says. "I'm Se-mi. What's your name?"

As you're about to tell her, you see a familiar head of purple hair in the crowd. The same head you've been avoiding for the past day.

You lower your face, bringing your hand up to shield yourself. "Oh, crap."

"Señorita, excuse me."

Se-mi turns around, as she hears the voice, staring at Thanos.

"Let's play the game together."

You shrink a bit, positioning yourself so Se-mi is blocking you from Thanos' view.

"Well, why should I?"

"Don't you know who he is?" one of the boys at his side asks. "He's Thanos, the rapper. I'm gonna kill half of humanity with my raps."

You turn your back to them, trying as hard as you can to keep the rapper from noticing you.

The other boy speaks up. "Hang on, a girl? We don't know what the game is."

"I, Thanos the great, will protect you."

Se-mi breathes out a laugh. "Right, Thanos. So have you got all the infinity stones?"

"Of course." You roll your eyes, knowing he's showing off his dumb nail polish. "I'm going to destroy anyone who gets in my way. Just stick with me and you'll be safe. Okay?"

"But I already asked someone to join me," Se-mi says. Your heart picks up.

"No problem. Who is it?"

Se-mi moves to the side and you turn, giving the rapper a tight-lipped smile and small wave.

"No way," Thanos says, a wide smile on his face. He comes up to you, throwing his arms around you. "Señorita! I can't believe you're here!"

"Woah!" the boy to the right of Thanos says, eyes wide. "You were one of his dancers, right?"

You nod, not quite making eye contact with the boy. You look up at the other one and find that he's staring at you, mouth parted slightly.

Both of Thanos' hands grab onto your shoulders, squeezing them. "This is gonna be awesome."

You look at Se-mi, seeing her give you an apologetic look. You just shrug. At least you have a team.

<>

"Please decide players for each mini-game."

You lean forward, looking at your team on both sides from your spot in the middle of the line. "I can do Jegi. I was good at it as a kid."

"I'm doing Jegi," Thanos says. "You do Spinning Top."

You grit your teeth, taking a deep breath. "I'm not good at Spinning Top."

"I can do Spinning Top," the boy between you and Thanos says.

You nod at him, a silent thank you. "I'll do Gong-gi."

"I can do Flying Stones," Se-mi says.

You nod and look past her to the boy sitting on the end. "Are you alright doing Ddakji?"

He nods, a smile on his face. "I was going to volunteer for it anyway."

You smile. "Great. We got this, guys."

<>

"The following players have been eliminated. Players 016, 045, 178, 189, 198, 254, 286, 341, 396, and 416."

A man on the other side of the room stands up. "We should have left! We're all going to die now! We're all going to die because of those who voted to continue!"

Another man stands. "What are you going to do now?! You think you can survive?! Look at them!"

You feel movement to the left of you and turn to see the boy next to you leaning toward Thanos.

"Can you... can you please give me one of those?"

Thanos eyes him up. "'Those'?"

"The thing you took. You're keeping them inside your cross."

You sigh. You're well aware of what Thanos keeps in his cross. He's tried to get you to take them a few times while you were working together. Thankfully, you always said no, not letting him persuade you into anything.

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

"If I get nervous and lose the game, we'll all die," The boy's voice shakes. "My hands are shaking like crazy."

Thanos sighs. "Nam-su."

"It's Nam-gyu."

"Right. Nam-gyu." Thanos unzips his jacket, taking out his cross. "Do you know what this is?"

You lean closer, curious. Thanos never told you what they were, part of the reason you turned them down every time.

"Ecstasy? Ketamine?"

Thanos shakes his head. "It's a new kind. It's fucking crazy, man. You can't handle it."

"Hey." Nam-gyu rolls up his sleeve, showing Thanos the inside of his elbow. "I did all kinds of stuff when I was working at the club. I even brought you some when you came to the club."

Thanos opens his cross, taking out one of his pills. "You junkie." He hands it to Nam-gyu, who quickly pops it in his mouth. Thanos looks over Nam-gyu's shoulder, seeing you watching them. "Want one, Señorita?"

You shake your head. "I'll pass."

Nam-gyu looks at you, face falling as you give him a look of disapproval.

<>

The rounds kept going until it was your turn. The boy on the end, who you found out is named Gyeong-su, was able to flip the Ddakji on his second try, and Se-mi hit the stone perfectly on her first attempt.

You walk to the next mini-game, the one you're doing. You take the pieces off the table, crouching as the guard puts the table on the floor. You scatter the pieces onto the table.

Blue. Green. Yellow. Red. Purple. Good.

Purple. Yellow and green. Red and blue...

You deflate as the blue piece falls out of your grasp and onto the track.

"Seriously?!" Thanos yells. "Pick it up and do it right this time!"

You shoot a glare at him. He might not realize it, but his demeaning comments are certainly not helping.

Nam-gyu picks up the fallen piece, handing it to you. "You were so close, you can do it."

You take the piece and nod, once again focusing back on the game.

Red. Yellow. Blue. Green. Purple. Good.

Green. Yellow and blue. Red and purple. Good.

Yellow. Red, blue, purple. Green. Good.

Purple. Green, blue, red, yellow. Good.

Back of hand. Good.

You take a deep breath before tossing the pieces up, quickly grabbing them out of the air.

The pink guard puts their arms up in a circle.

"Pass."

You smile as Nam-gyu shakes you in happiness. The guard takes the small table away from you and you advance to the next mini-game.

The pink guard hands Nam-gyu the top and the string. You watch as he wraps the string. You had been nervous when he took Thanos' pill, but you have to give it to him, his control over the string is flawless.

He pulls his hand back and throws it. You smile as it spins in front of you.

"Pass."

You all celebrate before moving to the final mini-game. Thanos takes the Jegi, pushing the guard out of the way. He throws it into the air.

One kick. Two kicks. Three kicks. Four kicks.

The Jegi falls to the ground.

You huff as Thanos picks it up and throws it again.

One kick. Two kicks. Three kicks.

The toy hits the ground once again.

You can't help but roll your eyes. You would have gotten it by now had he let you play Jegi. Your high score as a kid was 27 kicks in a row. You look at the clock. You still have a minute left. Good.

Thanos lets out a yell of frustration, picking up the Jegi and throwing it.

One kick. Two kicks. Three kicks. Four kicks. Five kicks.

"Pass."

Your team jumps up and down in celebration before regaining composure. You cross the finish line with 29 seconds to spare.

You and Se-mi turn to each other, hugging as you all celebrate. You turn to Nam-gyu, who is already smiling down at you. You smile back and high-five him. At the end of the line, Thanos jumps up and down, nearly knocking you all over.

You put your arms out to steady Nam-gyu and he thanks you as the guards come over to remove the bindings from your ankles.

<>

You watch as five more people walk into the room.

"Hey," you hear a voice next to you and turn to see Nam-gyu. "How many do you think are left?"

You take a quick look around. "Maybe 200?"

"Shit," he sighs. "That's way too many."

You shrug. "I like that there's more people here." Nam-gyu gives you a confused look. "There's safety in numbers."

Thanos raises both of his arms. "Stop talking." He points at you. "How old are you again?"

You roll your eyes. "28."

"So you were born in 1996," he turns to Gyeong-su. "How old are you?"

"Born in 1998."

He turns to Se-mi. "You?"

"Born in 1996."

He thinks for a moment. "It's settled. Gyeong-su is the youngest, and the girls are the oldest." He turns to Nam-gyu. "Nam-su, you were born in 1997, right?"

"It's Nam-gyu."

"Right, Nam-gyu. Is that right?"

Nam-gyu nods.

Thanos points at you while still looking at Nam-gyu. "Hey, call her noona since she's older."

Nam-gyu chuckles. You feel a small smile pull on your lips at the sound.

Soon, the pink guards come into the room, announcing that 110 players had been eliminated in the second game. They bring out the machine for voting and everyone moves to the center.

"You're voting to stay, right noona?" Nam-gyu asks you.

You breathe out a laugh. "Yeah, but this is probably the last time." You smile at him, lightly hitting his shoulder. "And don't call me noona. I'm younger than you, just don't tell Thanos, Nam-su."

He frowns when you call him the wrong name, opening his mouth to correct you but stopping when he sees the teasing smirk on your face. He chuckles again, nodding his head.

<>

Nam-gyu watches as Thanos opens his cross, taking out a pill and popping it into his mouth. He takes a step in his direction, about to ask for one. He stops when he sees you out of the corner of his eye talking to Se-mi, laughing at something the girl is saying. With a sigh, Nam-gyu turns away from Thanos, instead moving to Gyeong-su.

You're all brought into a new room. There are doors lining the walls and a big platform in the middle of the room that looks like a carousel without any horses.

"Welcome to your third game. The game you will be playing is Mingle. Let me repeat. The game you will be playing is Mingle."

"Hey," Thanos says, clearly high off his ass. He turns to your group. "We'll be mingling together. Doesn't that sound like so much fun?"

You all get onto the platform and it begins spinning, a children's song playing over the speakers. The first round is ten, and you find another group of five players, getting into the room safely with ten seconds to spare.

You come out again, once again getting onto the platform. The music stops and the voice calls out four.

Thanos looks between you, Se-mi, and Gyeong-su before stopping on the last one.

"Please," the boy pleads.

"Gyeong-su, you're out!" Thanos kicks the boy to the ground. "Let's go!"

Nam-gyu stands there for a moment staring at Gyeong-su before he feels someone grab a hold of his sleeve, tugging him along after the group. He gets in the room and the door locks, you letting go of him. Nam-gyu tries to look out the slot for Gyeong-su but you pull him away. It's best if he doesn't see it.

"Wait!" Thanos holds his arms up. He points toward all of you. "Where did you leave my boy Gyeong-su?"

You give him an incredulous look, jumping when the sounds of gunfire starts.

Thanos brings his hands to his head before running towards the door and looking out the slot. "Fuck! Gyeong-su!"

You and Se-mi look at each other, both of you thinking the same thing. Thanos would have done that to any of you. He can't be trusted. Especially when he's high.

You're released and you go back to the platform. When the music stops this time, the voice announces three people to a room.

Thanos stands and looks between you and Se-mi. "Who should we take? Rock, paper, scissors!"

Se-mi turns to you, holding her hand out. "Come with me."

You nod, taking her hand. "We'll find one more, you guys do the same."

Nam-gyu nods, grabbing Thanos by his jacket and pulling him along.

Se-mi and you manage to find one more person and get into a room on time. When you come out, you look around for the boys. You see the familiar head of purple hair and smile when you spot Nam-gyu next to him.

They run up to you. You smile at Nam-gyu. "Glad you made it."

He smiles back. "Me too."

The next round is six, so you find two other players and make it to a room. When you're let out, it is announced that this will be the final round.

"Two."

Se-mi goes to reach for you, but she's pulled away by Thanos as he sprints toward one of the rooms. Nam-gyu watches as Thanos runs away, a look of betrayal adorning his face.

You quickly turn, grabbing Nam-gyu's hand and taking off toward a green door. You're able to get there before anyone else and close the door behind you, pushing your weight against it to keep anyone else from getting in.

The lock clicks and you sigh in relief, moving away from the door. You turn to Nam-gyu. "Are you alright?"

"He left me," he says, a faraway look on his face. "I've been nothing but loyal to him, and he just left me there."

You sigh, walking to him and rubbing his arm. "Nam-gyu, Thanos isn't a good person. He can't even remember your name. A person like that doesn't deserve the loyalty you're showing him."

He keeps looking at the door as the gunshots go off. He turns to you, looking at you for a few moments before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. "Thank you. Thank you for not leaving me."

You hug him back. "I'm not gonna leave you, Nam-gyu."

He sniffles. "I won't leave you either."

You pull back and see his smile. You can't help but think it's kind of cute, making you smile back at the boy, a warm feeling in your face.

~

Squid Game Tags: @thebiggestigurosimp @vvnbxz @lov3yy @miltzzy @l5byrinth @come-as-you-are-111 @starkeyszn @learninglinesintherainn @galactict3a @sawlover353 @jspidey5

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist

[larluce]

First I wanted to say hello and tell you that I love your works. They really have me on the edge of my seat every time I read them.

Second. Can you imagine that Merlin, in some new alternative universe, for some reason, upon arriving in Camelot, arrives with a baby? It's all still a Merthur ending, it should be noted.

Like, we know that Merlin was already a bit of an outcast in the village for the reason that nobody knew who his father was and even more so because strange things were always happening around him.

The situation gets much worse when he finds a crying baby in the middle of a burnt tent near the village.

Will and his mother try to help him for a while, but with the visits of the evildoers to the village becoming more and more frequent, Merlin and the baby have no choice but to go to Camelot.

And so the adventures begin!

Only now Arthur wonders if they can make crowns for babies, because he is willing to marry Merlin and legally adopt the baby as his own.

And Morgana… well, she and Gwen enjoy dressing up the baby in all the clothes from her old dolls. Not to mention that she notices that by taking naps with the baby she no longer has nightmares.

The knights become, in some way or another, glorified nannies. The servants and maids must chase after a baby who never stops causing mischief in the castle.

And Merlin just wants to survive colic season and potty train his baby… and everything would be easier if there weren't a murderer or a resentful wizard trying to kill Arthur every 3 minutes.

First, thank you so much for the compliments! 🥹🤧❤️

About the concept. I love it! I don't think going to Camelot to live would be Merlin or Hunith's first option for a baby that can't control their magic at all. So I firmly believe Hunith would send Merlin with the baby there so Gaius can take them to a druid camp so they could take refuge there.

The problem is, before Gaius can do so, Merlin is made the prince's personal manservant. Merlin can't exactly deny the king and he does need the money to take care of his baby so he decides to stay to Gaius dismay. Gaius and Merlin try to keep the baby hided at first so they take turns taking care of her (in my mind is a her) in Gaius' tower in secret. It works out for some weeks but then the plague (Nimueh's Afanc) happens and Arthur searches Gaius' tower.

Arthur: (enters Merlin's room) Merlin: (running inside) Arthur, wait! Baby: (sitting on the bed, looks up at Arthur and gives a cute giggle) Arthur: (Turns to Merlin slowly) Merlin? Merlin: Yeah? 😅 Arthur: Why is there a baby in your bed? Merlin: (in panic, shouts the first thing that comes to his mind) She is mine! Arthur: ... Arthur: What? 😧 Merlin: (repeats more quietly but more firmly) She is mine. (runs to hold her up and embraces her) She is my daugther. Arthur: (thinking) But... but he is so young. (says) Where's the mother? Merlin: (with pain as he remembers the burnt tent) She passed away. Arthur: (his heart hurting for Merlin) I'm so sorry. But Gods Merlin, why didn't you tell me? I wouldn't have given you so many chores if I knew... (thinking) And I almost sacked you. I almost sacked a single father with a baby in arms! (says) And why the hell are you hiding her? Merlin: I... wasn't sure if I could keep her. Arthur: Of course you can keep her! What kind of master do you think I am? Knight x: (from outside) Sire? Arthur: (shouts back) In a minute! (to Merlin) What's her name? Merlin: Brigitta. Arthur: (repeats softly and smiles) Brigitta.

From then on, Arthur doesn't give Merlin as many chores and raises his salary considerably. And then everybody else finds out about Briggitta and go "I've only met Brigitta for a day and a half, but if anything happened to her, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself".

Some events would change, obviously, and some would remain the same but with a new perspective. I don't think Merlin would have time to make Lancelot a fake seal, for example, having to look after Brigitta and all. I can imagine Lancelot becoming Brigitta's first unnofficial babysiter, then Arthur makes it official so poor Lancelot has a salary and a place to stay in Camelot. The Poisoned Chalice episode would remain the same, except Arthur would be more in panic mode and desperate because MERLIN HAS A DAUGHTER! BRIGITTA CAN'T LOSE HER FATHER TOO!

I think it would be The Beginning of the End where Arthur and Morgana find out about Brigitta's magic and Merlin's magic. Not because they discovered her, surprisingly, but Merlin decided to tell them all the truth about her and himself after seeing how they saved Mordred. Also, since Merlin saw Brigitta's possible future in Mordred, he wants to leave Camelot too to keep her safe. Screw all what the dragon told him about destiny, his daugther comes first.

So Merlin and Brigitta are about to leave with Mordred with the druids. They are having a heartfelt goodbye with Arthur, who scorted them there, but then...

Brigitta: (cries very loudly in Merlin's arms and the earth starts shaking a bit) Merlin: I know, I know, baby, but we have to go. Brigitta: (cries more loudly and extends her little arms to Arthur) Arthur: (barely containing his tears) I'll miss you too, Biddy. But this is the best for you- Brigitta: ATHU! 😭 Arthur: (open his eyes wide) What did she just said? Brigitta: (still crying and making grabby hands at him) ATHU, ATHU, ATHU! 😭 Arthur: (tears roll down his eyes) She said my name... Merlin, she said my name! (grinning widely) Let me hold her one more time, please! Merlin: (gives Brigitta to Arthur) Druid leader: (urgently) We need to leave now! Merlin: (looking at Arthur and Brigitta tenderly and smiles) Leave, we'll stay.

I also can imagine Nimueh going after Brigitta's life instead of Hunith, and having to confront not only a very furious Merlin, but a feral protective prince.

That's how far my imagination can go. If you have any ideas of how Merlin and Arthur or other character would act in other episodes now with Brigitta in the equation, share it in the comments or reblogs. I'll be happy to read you 🥰

[albondiguilla007]

Hinny Part ll

✨ Dudley’s Memories / 11k / Minerva needs help delivering another letter to #4 Privet Drive. At forty, Dudley is not at all what Harry expects. A long overdue conversation ensues. DH cannon compliant, but probably not the way you think. Prologue to "Snape's Memories".

✨ half awake and almost there / 33k / Wherein Harry never could help himself from trying to save the day, and Ginny was just trying to survive her shift without killing any of her customers.

✨ lips long parching / 10k / Going solo to her ex’s wedding is not exactly Ginny’s idea of a good time, but thanks to a smuggled flask and a rather sullen Harry Potter, it’s about to get a lot more interesting.

✨ An Hour of Wolves / 110k / Sirius is dead, but Harry's doing alright: between a brand new Quidditch Captaincy, private lessons with Dumbledore, and increasing suspicions about Draco Malfoy, he's got enough to keep him busy. And if an uncomfortable encounter with a classmate ends up leaving him with another challenge to face and even more secrets to keep, well...he's still fine.

Really. He is.

✨ Aunt Marge’s Even Bigger Mistake / 8k / Ginny persuades Harry to attend Dudley’s wedding. Unfortunately, both of them forgot that Aunt Marge would also be attending.

✨ The Cry / 7k / In the blurred aftermath of the battle, Teddy just won't stop crying.

✨ Noticing / 105k / Ginny suddenly realizes two things, in very quick succession: One, that Harry’s never really looked at her that closely before, and two, that he is absolutely, beyond a shadow of a doubt, doing that. Right now.

This is the story of how Harry comes to notice her... but more importantly, it's the story of how Ginny comes to notice that he noticed.

✨ Not From Others / 132k / She may not have been able to join Harry, Ron and Hermione, but Ginny refuses to go down without a fight. As war approaches, Ginny returns to Hogwarts to resurrect Dumbledore's Army and face the darkest year the wizarding world has ever seen.

✨ Light Beam / 6k / 'Dad, hypothetically….. what would you have done if Mum was Sirius' sister?'

Or

Lily notices it first, Harry pines and James cheers.

A Jily Lives AU canon compliant with HBP.

✨ The Path From You / 142k / At 22, Ginny had lived through several lifetimes worth of misery. She'd been deceived, betrayed, and possessed, her very soul almost wrung out into nothing. She'd been subordinated, humiliated, and tortured, lived almost an entire year surrounded by enemies.

Fought Death Eaters and dementors and giant spiders. Been heartbroken, anguished, and grief stricken. Lost friends and mentors and a brother.

And through it all, she'd survived... because of luck, or sheer force of will.

Maybe a little of both.

If she could suffer and endure and prevail through all of that, she could live through some anonymous wanker plaguing her with badly written poetry.

✨ Five Times Ginny Tells Harry She's Pregnant (And One Time She Can't) / 29k / Six standalone chapters. Six alternate universes. Five times when Ginny delivers some particularly pertinent information..and one time when she can't.

[sereinreality]

making a luis lives au and having it lead up to re6 so i just want to write down my ideas so far

- ada saves him without a shadow of a doubt. somehow, someway, she gets him off the island and takes him to a hospital to heal while she spends those next couple of months making plans. when luis is properly healed, she would offer one of two options; either work with her or she’ll leave him some things but they have to keep little to no contact. luis obviously goes for the first choice.

- they definitely bond over the course of time they work together from re5 to re6. i like to think their similar backgrounds, history, and goals bring them closer together. luis would always try to find a reason to throw festivities, he’s very insistent on celebrating ada’s birthday or any holiday.

- they do a lot of moving around which means time to kill and lots of stories. luis likes to play a game where he tells a story and ada has to guess wether it actually happened or he just made it up. most of the time he’s lying but argues “you never know! maybe someday it will be true!” it makes ada smile. luis tries to make her smile as often as he can.

- luis didn’t change in terms of making jokes. he figures there’s no point in falling to despair when you’ve been given your last chance so he makes the most of it. it annoyed ada at first, thinking that luis wasn’t taking this seriously but upon closer inspection, she realized he’s grown way more cautious than before. she excused some of the teasing after that but never backed down from some back and forth

- ada and luis are like soulmates in the way that they are two sides of the same coin. where there’s one, you’ll find the other. they are connected by coincidence but they treasure it. more than anything, it’s a deep understanding between them. everything they did to survive, to get out of their respective situations, the choices they made, and the loneliness they felt. luis swears that as long as he lives, ada will never feel alone again. ada says likewise. both of them mean it with their whole heart.

- under NO circumstances can leon learn that luis survived. it’s a depressing truth they both understand that if leon got the smallest hint of luis’s survival that he would begin a manhunt to find him. they have too much work being carried out that cannot be compromised. that doesn’t stop luis from searching for leon’s name in government files or papers, he keeps up to date with anything where he’s involved. what can he say? the knight misses his prince.

- that being said leon does not handle post valdelobos very well. he still has luis’s lab key which he keeps in a box tucked away somewhere. sometimes the smell of smoke brings him back to spain and the mines where he lost someone he’s grown so close to in just a small amount of time. it shouldn’t break him as much as it does but it’s something that stays in the back of his mind. leon feels like he missed something. that there was an opportunity open to him that he failed to see, it could have been something but now he’ll never know. the door shut in his face just when leon realized what was being offered to him.

- once he saw don quixote displayed on a bookstore window with a lovely red cover and bought it immediately. it sits on his shelf collecting dust, leon hasn’t had time to read it or so he says.

- the trio do reunite in re6 but more importantly, luis catches wind of some of the stunts leon had been pulling and their first interaction after years was luis marching up to leon as he backs into a wall. luis is shouting in spanish, probably complaining about leon not prioritizing his own safety, then switching to english so he can yell in a language leon understands. it was here that he catches leon’s face. he’s so much older now, worn out like leather. leon looked exhausted but he also seemed so amazed? confused? whatever it was, he looked softer now and his eyes widen a little. he simply says, “you’re alive?”

[codename-adler]

ok. Okay.

so the whole sethaaron thing is TECHNICALLY canon compliant, basically how it goes is its the start of the year 1 A.N (after neil), so aaron's trial has just ended and all of the foxes are very pointedly not saying anything about it but he's kind of withdrawing as well. hasn't spoken to his brother in months outside of therapy and sometimes not even during it either. met katelyn's family over the summer but it went bad in the sense that she loved him being there and they took her little siblings to the park and they all loved him but then they'd get back to the house and he'd walk into a room and the conversation would pause very obviously and like. he knew they didn't think he deserved to be here or that he deserved katelyn, they made it very clear that they didn't think he belonged there. in general. fue No bueno. anyway.

seth survived riko's attempt to kill him and he spent the rest of the year in recovery/rehab. returns to PSU to retake his senior year and wymack gives him a temp contract to play with the foxes for one more year. so he's navigating how (and if) he fits into the foxes' dynamic now, what he's going to do after this is over and whether he still belongs in this team or if he should cut his losses and drop out. it's no secret that they were better without him, even if they tell him so eventually, and he'll walk past the photos of their championship win like he didn't even see it but there's still this constant ache in his chest like they've always been good enough to do it without me so why the fuck am i even here

seth and aaron are kind of two comets hurtling out of orbit on a collision course with each other– aaron's trying to go back to pretending he doesn't exist, seth's trying to make sure nobody can forget him again, everything aaron can't say he keeps bottled up until it hurts him or he uses it to hurt someone else, seth wants to see what happens when he snaps, seth keeps calling him killer and eventually they end up in this weird routine of beating each other up in parking lots and then making out about it and running away. and then some other stuff happens that i haven't decided

playlist :P

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4zj83OLLnoxpsftZz0rpAM

orphy this is genius. like, GENIIUS. seth going away to rehab AU?????? pleaseeeee this is so compelling i wanna dip my whole feet-to-head into ittttttt !!!!!!

and. the. playlist. already a fucken hit my man. like,,,, DIAL TONE?????? pls pls pls mercy on my soul AAAAAAAHH

thank you for this. genuinely. i can't waitttttt WOO!

[greenleaf4stuff]

Of Convenience 8.2

(all previous parts of "Of Convenience")

Adar x Celebrimbor (silverscars) political marriage AU, 8th snippet, part 2. Celebrimbor returns to Adar's tent with a surprise and has a reunion with another friend. The new alliance finally seems to have a fighting chance - in more ways than one.

This chapter is finally going to feature poor beleaguered Gil-Galad – Adar, hide your wine stash (or don't, if you want to make a good impression)! Once again I want to thank all the lovely people who like, reblog, tag or comment this fic or who have sent me messages - your support means everything! <3 I hope you enjoy!

Celebrimbor walked back towards Adar's tent with a spring in his step and a smile on his face that was, perhaps, unbefitting the seriousness of the situation. But after how successful his work had been, he felt he was allowed a little levity.

Gurlak herself had been decidedly more skeptical than Adar at first - and pressed herself to the wall of the shed with a loud hiss when Celebrimbor had uncovered Morgoth's crown.

"I am not touching that thing! Not even with tongs and while wearing gloves!"

"I understand, and I am not going to make you! The only thing I ask is that you let me use your forge and your equipment," he reassured the uruk. "This is going to be Adar's weapon to hopefully kill Sauron - for good, this time. But the way this was made...it is no weapon suited for battle. Please, Gurlak, he will need every advantage we can give him. I only wish to try to even the odds for him, at least a little."

She'd taken a shuddering breath and watched the elf dubiously for a while, but eventually, she'd permitted him to use her smithy. "Just make sure he survives it, whatever it is Adar will be facing." Had been her only condition.

Celebrimbor had nodded in answer. "I intend to."

It might be too early to pat himself on the back just yet, but Celebrimbor thought that he'd done his best to fulfill her condition. He allowed himself to feel a little lighter as a result, as well as giddy; he was quite curious about what Adar's reaction to his work might be.

When he arrived at their shared tent, the elf blinked in surprise - aside from the usual uruk guards, there were perhaps a dozen elves in full armor, hands on their weapons and surrounding the tent as they eyed their counterparts with suspicion.

Beside him, Glûg cursed under his breath. "You think this is what I think it is?"

Celebrimbor's heart had leapt into his throat at the sight - but not in fear, this time. "I think it might indeed be," his voice carried the elation he felt.

The High King of Lindon, Ereinion Gil-Galad himself, had arrived in Adar's camp. Heavily guarded, just as Elrond had said he would be.

If the smith's heart could have burst with anticipation, Celebrimbor might have feared for it to happen in that moment. Instead, he took a steadying breath and turned to Glûg. "I am sure you want to come too. I think Adar isn't gonna object to you keeping a close eye on his husband, especially at such a crucial point in time," he said with a quirk to his lips even as he affected pure innocence.

Glûg threw him a sideways glance, visibly caught - the uruk was suprisingly nosy, Celebrimbor had realized. A good quality for a lieutenant, in his opinion, which might have been why he did his best to foster it instead of denying the uruk his inquisitiveness.

Every leader needed someone in their lives who was unafraid to know more, to ask questions...and speak his mind. "Yeah. You are probably right," Glûg said, slowly. Even if his mouth was uniquely shaped due to his long teeth, Celebrimbor could tell the other was smiling back at him.

Steeling himself, Celebrimbor clutched the coarse fabric in his arms, and continued to walk towards the tent.

The elven guards were quick to notice him. Some looked relieved to see him, others were more cautious. The smith could spot Rían among them, who had accompanied Elrond once or twice on previous talks, and he tilted his head at her in greeting before he entered the tent. She gave him a small, encouraging grin in response.

Inside their tent, it was a bit crowded; Celebrimbor almost ran into another elven guard, this one tall as a tree, and needed a moment to catch sight of what went on in the middle of the interior.

Celebrimbor could see Galadriel and Elrond - accompanied by Vorohil - standing close to the table. Adar stood at the opposite side, looking tense but not antagonistic. The table itself held what seemed to be a hastily prepared selection of vegetables, greenery, and fruits, as well as several chalices of drink.

Positioned among his elven friends, shining golden like the sun itself, stood the high king of the elves. Gil-Galad had exchanged his robes for heavy, golden armor and braided his hair as if in preparation for a battle. He, too, looked tense. Celebrimbor had never been so glad to see him. 

Eagerly, Celebrimbor pushed through the throng of guards and exclaimed, "Gil-Galad - I didn't know you were going to be coming so soon!" And then, with a hint of embarrassment, "I'd have made myself look more presentable if I did."

A hush fell over the tent, with even the guards stopping their whisperings, as all eyes moved to the elven smith. It uncomfortably reminded him of the time when he'd cursed his bad luck multiple days ago, and he winced lightly before he soldiered on and stepped close to the table.

Ereinion looked surprised to see him, eyes widened slightly. After a moment, he strode around the table and came to stand in front of Celebrimbor.

"Tyelpe. It is good to see you alive - and whole," the High King stated. His eyes were moving over the smith, searching, before they settled back on his face.

And then, before Celebrimbor knew what was happening, Ereinion had reached forward and drawn the smith into a tight hug.

The smith needed a few blinks before he managed to regain himself. Gil-Galad was many things, but being prone to touching others wasn't usually among them. The elf supposed it was a sign that the king had indeed feared the worst. Tentatively, he freed one of his arms from the bundle he still held, and wrapped it around the high king in turn. "It is good to see you, too, Ereinion."

Suddenly, there was a sound from the other side of the table that almost sounded like a growl. When Celebrimbor startled and turned around, he found Adar staring at him- no, not at him, but at Gil-Galad, nostrils flaring and hands clenched. With a frown, the smith looked at Gil-Galad, and felt confusion as he noticed the high king wear a similar expression of drawn eyebrows and pinched lips.

His eyes flew between the two of them as he tried to understand what was going on, until they settled on Galadriel, who...wore a smirk, of all things. And looked mischievously from Celebrimbor to Adar and back when she caught his eye.

The smith frowned, unsure what she was getting at, and freed himself from Gil-Galad's embrace.

"I am glad we are finally able to sit at the negotiation table together, all of us," the smith tried to dissipate the strange tension that had fallen over the group. He knew his king was protective of those he considered friends and family, but surely there was no reason to sour the current talks with a show of distrust?

And he couldn't even hope to parse what Adar's reaction might have been caused by. He's ask him about it later.

"Please, sit, everyone. I am sure we have much to talk about."

Gil-Galad seemed reluctant to follow Celebrimbor's request at first, but eventually acquiesced. As did the others, who walked to the chairs that had been prepared for them.

Adar, however, was looking at Celebrimbor.

"How has your project gone?" Again, it took the smith a moment to pick up on what Adar was talking about, but then smiled brightly at his husband. It was obvious the other had searched the Celebrimbor with his eyes for the shape of the crown, and hadn't found it.

Well, Celebrimbor would change that.

"Thank you for reminding me - it has gone better than expected! Here-" and he moved the shape in his arms, wrapped in coarse linen, and gently placed it on the table before Adar. It was long and slim, not at all like a crown anymore.

Adar stared at the smith skeptically, then stretched out his bare hand as he gingerly folded aside the fabric. The open surprise on his face caused Celebrimbor to rock back and forth on his feet with both mirth and delight.

The uruk had been right, Morgoth's crown had been tough to reforge, doubly so because the circumstances were not ideal. But the smith had refused to be bested by it - and, in turn, the maiar who had previously worked on the metal. It had taken much coaxing and every bit of his knowledge and skill as a smith, but eventually, the darkened iron had bent to his will.

What had been wrought from it now lay on the table before all of them. It hadn't been enough for a greatsword like Adar's, but with some additional material, a shortsword had been achieved. It was utilitarian, for the metal had refused to let itself be remade into a more pleasing shape, and so it lay, simple and dark and still menacing, but it was a sword now. Certainly easier to use in a fight than a crown, and hopefully, more lethal as well.

At the elves' questioning glances, Celebrimbor pointed at it and explained. "I reworked Morgoth's crown. If this is to be our best chance at killing Sauron, I am not letting you lot walk into this fight and wield something that is meant to be worn as adornment in court, not brandished as weapon in battle."

The incredulous expressions on his friends' faces caused the smith to preen. Yes, pride had been a weakness of his back in Eregion, but he felt entitled to a little bit of it at least.

Working on this sword had felt like reclaiming a part of himself, in a strange way - while Sauron had taken his creations and tainted them, he had taken one of his and reforged it to serve the elf's own purposes.

How fitting it would be, if it caused the Deceiver's own destruction.

"Where did you do this?" Gil-Galad asked, pointing his hand at the sword as he looked at Celebrimbor. The high king did tend to look slightly exasperated even at the best of times, but currently, he held an expression of sheer disbelief.

The smith raised his eyebrows and pointed over his shoulder with his index finger, in the direction of the tentflap. He briefly turned towards it, then back to Gil-Galad, and simply said. "Well. Here, in the camp. One of Adar's smiths graciously lent me her forge."

Gil-Galad's eyes fell to the sword again. Galadriel and Elrond were studying it just as intently, the look on their faces similar to the one they'd worn when he'd first presented the elven rings to them.

It was Adar who spoke next. "I have heard many stories about the house of Feanor - about your grandfather, specifically," Celebrimbr looked up and found Adar staring at him. The uruk was less expressive than most elves, so the sheer, open look of awe on his face felt sent a thrill through Celebrimbor's whole body, made him feel giddy and warm. "The greastest elven smith who ever lived."

"I would claim that you needn't question your own greatness in comparison to him. If anything, I think you might surpass him. No other being I have met, save for a valar and a maiar, have been able to alter this crown."

"And you did it in an uruk camp, with a cobbled-together forge and scavenged tools."

It was a close thing, but Celebrimbor felt as if he could have almost wept with the praise. Many people had paid compliments to him and his work. Compared him to his grandfather and his deeds.

And yet, none had ever felt as sincere, and none had ever touched him as deeply, as that of the uruk he had bound himself to in a desperate bid to save both their people, and who would carry his creation into battle.

Celebrimbor's face broke out into a wide, slightly shaky smile. "Thank you, Adar, I-" a pause and, as fondness overcame him, the smith added. "Consider it a belated wedding present, if you'd like."

And there it was, the faintest hint of a smile on Adar's face, once again.

"...I think I should like that."

Celebrimbor didn't know it, but the smile he gave in response was as radiant and warm as the sun itself.

[pinepickled]

I don't hate Scott. I think he is an interesting character on occasion (like when the narrative challenges his ideals) and I wouldn't bother watching the show if I didn't find him funny.

But also, you're just wrong. Malia thought correctly that Scott wouldn't support her. Teen Wolf in the buildup to the series finale shows several times that Scott 1. Knows what she's doing, so idk why you say "when he found out he helped her" because he knew at least 10 episodes before he helped, 2. That he disapproves of her path and thinks she's getting too much blood on her hands, and 3. Only helps when it's clear she's not going to take another path and the desert wolf will not spare her, which btw is another lesson in hypocrisy for Scott.

Scott doesn't want killing to be an answer at all. Like I said in that post you didn't read, there are several instances of justified self defense killing that happen in the series, and whether Scott holds the person accountable seems to rely only on how much he likes them. When the two werewolves from Satomi's pack kill a hunter to survive, again I'm repeating myself because you didn't read, Scott harshly criticizes them and ostracized them for what they did, claiming they took innocent lives just because their eyes turned blue- a phenomenon impossible to reliably track on who is considered innocent and guilty, by the way. Not even to mention that Deucalion and Ethan together killed so many damn people, and yet Scott let him walk free as well as Gerard, but Theo had to go for doing objectively less heinous shit than the lot of them.

That's what I'm trying to point out to you, but I guess you're a Scott stan so you can't take any criticism of your precious baby. He doesn't have a consistent moral compas on who gets redeemed for killing and who doesn't. Just vibes. And again, he never has to make that decision himself. You bring up not wanting to be the monster Monroe sees him as in 6B? Then why did he try to get Peter and Deucalion to kill her for him? In a way the writing specifically acknowledges? Why does Scott bring up that he knows he is failing to take responsibility for the dirty work his ideals need? Is it somehow better that he gets other people to kill instead of himself?

More importantly, how many people does Monroe need to kill, how many lives do her and her gang need to destroy, until Scott pulling the metaphorical trigger is justified to himself? Apparently she's killed enough to put Peter on her path, just not Scott himself.

You say it yourself: *think*. He doesn't want to be the monster Monroe *thinks* he is. Why is he concerned with what a genocidal maniac thinks? To protect his own psyche, like op originally said, so thank you for showing you do actually understand the point. He cannot accept that to keep his pack from literally being wiped off the map, he might have to seem like a monster to like 2 people.

Also, it's very morally ironic that Scott thinks in "good vs bad" "monster vs human" so much because it betrays how egotistical he is. His ideology, like I said in that post you didn't read, demands that he believe there are shades of gray, but he outright rejects that notion again and again. Notice that not once in teen wolf does he ever call an immoral human a monster: only immoral shapeshifters. That doesn't betray something to you?

Some musings about Scott's morality (probably not very common and a little controversial)

Scott McCall’s adherence to his no-kill rule can be seen as both a moral stance and a psychological defense mechanism, shaped by his own fears, insecurities, and desire to preserve his innocence. At its core, Scott’s refusal to kill, even when faced with situations that may arguably call for it, reflects a deeper internal struggle to maintain a clear sense of right and wrong. However, this rigid adherence to his ideals, especially when it leads to others suffering, reveals underlying contradictions in his character.

Scott's moral code is largely centered on protecting his own sense of innocence and moral purity. By clinging to the no-kill rule, he avoids the emotional burden of directly taking a life, even if it means allowing harm to befall others. Psychologically, this allows Scott to protect his self-image as a "good" person. His reluctance to engage in lethal violence can be seen as a defense against the guilt and moral ambiguity that would come with making more ruthless choices.

In the case of the Kanima, Scott's refusal to kill Jackson despite the clear threat he posed to others shows how his need to maintain his moral boundaries outweighs the immediate threat to those around him. His insistence on finding non-lethal solutions, while noble, reflects an almost selfish prioritization of his internal morality over the safety of others.

There’s also an aspect of moral superiority in Scott’s unwavering no-kill stance. He often positions himself as the moral compass of the group, but this also gives him a sense of control over situations. By dictating that no one should kill, Scott maintains his leadership position and moral authority. However, this control is built on a framework that isn’t always flexible or responsive to the nuanced, dangerous situations he faces. His rigid moral stance can put others at risk, as seen when lives are endangered by the Kanima’s rampage while Scott focuses on preserving Jackson’s life.

Scott's no-kill rule can be seen as a form of psychological conflict avoidance. Killing someone would force him to confront the darker aspects of his role as a supernatural leader and protector. By adhering strictly to his rule, Scott avoids the internal conflict that would come from crossing that line. In a way, Scott’s reluctance to kill is an avoidance mechanism that keeps him from fully engaging with the morally complex world he inhabits, allowing him to maintain a black-and-white view of morality.

While Scott views his refusal to kill as a form of self-sacrifice, it can often lead to the sacrifice of others instead. In situations like the Kanima case, where innocent lives are at stake, Scott’s refusal to make the hard choice arguably protects his own conscience more than it protects the people he’s responsible for. This can be seen as an attempt to shield himself from the psychological toll of killing, while others bear the physical consequences of his inaction. It’s a form of indirect selfishness—by preserving his own sense of moral integrity, he unintentionally places the burden of suffering on others.

Scott’s no-kill rule is a complex and flawed psychological mechanism. While it is rooted in a genuine desire to be morally upright, it often causes harm by preventing him from making hard but necessary choices. His strict adherence to this rule can be seen as a defense against guilt, moral ambiguity, and the loss of his own innocence, but it also exposes him as someone who prioritizes his internal morality over the safety and well-being of those he is meant to protect. In this way, Scott's idealism becomes a form of moral tunnel vision, where the desire to remain "good" leads to greater harm for those around him.

[aestariiwilderness]

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

It’s not that Jason forgot, per se.

But between smuggling a toddler out of the League of Assassins, trekking halfway across the world, and finding a suitable hiding place that’s also child friendly… well, it kind of slipped his mind that he’s supposed to be… dead.

Something that comes back to bite him in the ass when he takes Dami out for some ice cream and just so happens to run into non other than Brucie-fucking-Wayne

[mossy-cobble-slab]

joel spends the whole first half of the episode helping the bamboozlers. giving them more diamonds, helping lizzie with her quizbot, saving jimmy from the ravager. and they don't stop trying to kill him specifically until theyre all dead. did he even notice they were doing that?

[jasmine-does-wevertf-she-wants]

I agree! The most beautiful thing for me is that his entire arc LWJ keeps very much with the core of his character - it truly is a development he doesn't fundamentally change at all.

He is a very righteous person, whose defining trait is that he wants to do what is Right (he shares that with WWX). But LWJ grew up in the Lan clan who has a predisposition to rely on their 3000 rules and I think in particular in the raising of The Twin Jades those were heavily invoked. A very Never Again attitude by the elders, in particular LQR. Because what Qifeng-zun did certainly contradicts the rules. And it's much easier to blame the whole tragedy about Madam Lan on rule-breaking instead of trying to detangle what was right. Might Madam Lan have had a good reason to kill a Lan elder? What might a Lan elder have done to warrant killing? Did Qifeng-zun and the Lan clan do the right thing by imprisoning her in a kind of marriage as punishment because they couldn't go against their sect leader's elopement but also couldn't leave the killing unpunished? Might they have caused more suffering by sticking to their Rules, following the best they could instead of trying to do good to the weakest or even all parties involved? To answer those questions the Lan clan would have had to take a good hard look at their own and it's much easier to kind of paint Qifeng-zun as crazy in love and insist if the Rules were followed correctly all would have been well.

And little LWJ really soaks that kind of thinking up when looking for guidance how to do what's Right. The Rules are what's Right and you just need to study very very hard and you will do and be Right. Humans obviously can't be trusted with all their emotions and mistakes but that's what we have Rules for.

And then he watches WWX be obviously Right and just but still being condemned and killed because that's politics. He watches his own sect supporting a ghost cultivator because their collective survival depends on it only to turn on him when public opinion does. Not for a principle. For politics. He watches the Rules being invoked and twisted and bent until they should break but they are still being held up like citing them would mean they apply to this case.

And he realizes he was wrong to adhere only to the Rules. WWX was leaps and bounds ahead of him in having such an acute uncompromising sense of justice. Trusting himself to know what's right. And LWJ does model that off him and is punished within an inch of his life and learns to weave the Rules and his sense for justice and becomes the absolute incredible man WWX meets post-resurrection.

I really really love LWJ's arc because he does a real Darcyesque arc of fixing himself in what others would not even have deemed a flaw. Teen!LWJ very understandably is the way he is and - crucially - his social standing allows him to be like that. He could have done a full JC and doubled down on the Rules and no one in-universe would have ever faulted him for it. Hell he'd probably be lauded as the Master of Rules in the Lan Sect or something. But he recognizes that WWX is right and he wants to be true to his self so he does the very painful work to get it Right. To be gracious. To be compassionate. To make hard choices even if the world condemns him for it. To make the hard choices even if it costs him. To compromise in a way that lets him get away with it while fulfillng his original purpose. He rocks the boat enough to help but doesn't let it sink so he can keep doing Right. He truly grows into himself. And he does it for himself. Out of love and admiration and in memory of WWX but for himself because that development truly reflects him as a person.

I can go on and on about all of that but I think this is long enough already haha

I'm thinking about the difference between like and love in MDZS.

Like it's out of the question that LWJ is instantly incredibly attracted to WWX. Later that obviously develops into a very devoted very deep love. The narration doesn't give any indication when that happens though I'd venture somewhere during the Wen indoctrination camp.

Anyways, does teen!LWJ like WWX though? In the way that he enjoys his company, likes to spend time with him, enjoys who he is as a person? I'd say no. We have no indication that LWJ regards WWX positively on a conscious level at all. Now I think that mostly can be attributed to teen!LWJ lacking most of the emotional development he'll do later. Teen!LWJ doesn't seem to like anyone much other than LXC. And that's okay! He's not a people person and that's fine! Given that and the emotional turmoil WWX most certainly wrecked on him upon arriving in Cloud Recesses I think it's perfectly understandable he doesn't like him much and tries to avoid him.

But then attraction begins to develop into love when he sees WWX isn't only a trouble maker in the Wen indoctrination camp but can take himself back for the safety of the group while still sticking to his principles. Who does it like him? Then he still takes care of LWJ single-handedly saves the whole group sacrificing himself in the process and LWJ is forced to confront very suddenly he's not falling in love with a beautiful talented careless troublemaker but with one of the few people in their world who will choose what's right and trying his best to balance that with the circumstances they live in. And WWX goes missing and LWJ is desperate to find him and he comes back and he is so markedly different from anything their world says he's supposed to be and decidingly not in a good way and he's prepared to let it go for the sake of conforming to the rules he holds so high. Of course throughout the plot he realizes the rules mean nothing and can be very much interpreted to do injustice vs. upholding what's right and that he was wrong to turn his back on WWX for not abiding by the rules.

And then WWX comes back from the dead and it's the first time LWJ really lets himself enjoy his company lets himself enjoy the person WWX is actively keeps him by his side while WWX tries his damned best to be the most obnoxious person to LWJ and how likely is it that LWJ realizes it does not matter? He was so so so wrong for ever thinking WWX annoying. He doesn't like most people's company but WWX can do everything he could not stand in another person and it's fine because he knows WWX and knows whatever he does is out of love and because he thinks it's right and WWX does not go wrong in judging what's right.

And I think actually the opposite is true for WWX. He arrives at Cloud Recesses and is so captivated by LWJ so beautiful the only one who can keep up with him and he stays by his principles the only one WWX ever met who truly treats him as equal. But LWJ rejects him at every opportunity and while WWX does not think LWJ hates him that's certainly not a basis to consider anything more and then the plot happens and really he doesn't have much time to think about anything regarding his feelings until his death.

But then he's resurrected and they do have time and LWJ is not rejecting him but supporting him and caring for him at every turn. Being a person WWX can depend on. Being the only one who ever was that for WWX. While still being beautiful and brilliant and being even more righteous than he was as a teenager and WWX falls in love so quickly it's a speed run. And he really didn't have a chance to do any different.

And I think it's kind of beautiful how they start out from such different points but very beautifully meet in the middle after years and years of misery but still together in the end.