#vilna writes

orion quinn x m!mc (nikita rose) / explicit / 3.6k words

tag list: @xx-toto-xx, @loreofyore, @turtleybeachin, @agentnatesewell, @orianaquinn, @thee-morrigan, @nokstella, @wayhavenots, @lalizah, @blu-ewraith (no pressure! <3)

notes: literally just going to post this and then run away, lmao.

When Orion receives the first text message, the sandman has almost finally claimed him for the night after over 22 hours of sleeplessness.

So he is irritated as all hell by the obnoxious beep of his phone and groans loudly into his pillow as he gropes for his phone blindly on the nightstand. He lights up the screen in the dark, wincing a little at the blue brightness, and scrolls through his recent notifications.

[ NIKITA: 00:42 ] do you think the moon has feelings?

Despite his utter weariness, despite the bone-deep exhaustion curling through his blood veins, Orion smiles.

[ ORION: 00:44 ] Why do you ask?

The pause is only 13 seconds long. Orion flips onto his back and counts the faint clicks of the wall clock on his hotel room as he waits.

The half moon is spreading its glittering light through the window and Orion watches it. He doesn't know the answer to Nikita's question.

[ NIKITA: 00:44] i just wonder if it's lonely sometimes. i would be. lonely. if i was all alone in the big sky when it's dark.

written for dreadrook week 2025. @thelighthouse-server

warning for major character death.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Vittoria’s bare hands are slippery with running thick blood.

Solas’s blood.

He's lying on his back on the cold hard ground, abdomen wet with blood and she is pressing her hands on the wound on his stomach, trying to keep his insides actually in.

“Mierda,” she mutters to herself, first softly, then cursing gradually louder until the words are so entangled with each other that it is barely real speech at all.

Her whole body is shaking. Solas's own is still.

She is not a healer or even a mage and her skills as a Crow are not much help in a situation this grave. All she can do is try to stem the bleeding as best as she is able, but it might not be enough. He is already so cold — cold like the dead.

But he isn't. His heart is still beating and pumping blood. His eyes are closed but they keep fluttering open every few moments.

taglist: @orianaquinn, @loreofyore, @jack-o-bells, @thee-morrigan, @agentnatesewell, @wayhavenots, @lalizah, @blu-ewraith, @turtleybeachin, @xx-toto-xx (obviously no pressure to read, especially for non-infamous people <3)

notes: been waiting to use this gif again:

There is something to be said about the fact that Niki stopped drinking almost entirely after Seven, but tonight he is so drunk on tequila that Orion would certainly disapprove if he saw him right now.

(But he isn't here. Even if Niki can hear his scolding inside his head when he takes another swig. Man, he kind of wishes Orion was here, to be honest. He is always there, but never at the same time.)

He is drunk just enough and he is looking at Triple, who is grinning toothily at him across the hotel room, shirtless and so handsome Niki can feel it all the way in his gut, thinking what if.

Triple's soft, hairy belly flexes as he laughs loudly at something Hassan quips before slapping his shoulder, and Niki stares so hard that his spinning vision is making him slightly nauseous.

He bites his lower lip, thinking.

Then Triple looks over at him and cocks his head, studying him, before taking a long swig of his beer, neck bending and adam's apple bobbing as he drinks. Niki has been caught.

And he doesn't mind one bit.

tag list: @xx-toto-xx, @loreofyore, @turtleybeachin, @agentnatesewell, @orianaquinn, @thee-morrigan, @nokstella, @wayhavenots, @lalizah, @blu-ewraith (no pressure! <3) notes: it's the wedding fic. you're welcome! (and i'm sorry!)

The wedding invitation is beautiful.

That is possibly what depresses Seven the most. The red envelope, the carefully chosen golden font, the expensive quality of the carton, the neatly hand-signed names at the bottom. It's all so perfect.

Nikita Rose & Orion Quinn.

The perfect happy couple who are cordially inviting Seven to their perfect and happy fucking wedding.

He would actually rather kill himself than go.

He can admit to himself quietly inside his head that he doesn't want to watch Niki kiss another man and promise to love him forever and ever right in front of him. He can picture it so clearly. Niki's happy, loving smile that used to be reserved only for him – the way the corners of his mouth curl and his stupid blue eyes light up like the sea during a sunny day.

It's so messed up that he still remembers how soft Niki's lips were against his own when they kissed for the first time all those years ago when they were so fucking in love that nothing else mattered.

Seven is so lost in his thoughts that he jumps when his phone beeps loudly in sign of a text message. He sighs and picks it up. And stops.

Are you going?

Avina.

What the fuck?

the wayhaven chronicles / nate sewell x f!detective (charlotte langford) / stardew valley AU / general / 1.2k words

notes: written for day 7 (sunset) prompt for @summerinwayhaven !

Nate chuckles softly at the way his chickens immediately scatter with an excited cackle when he throws the last of the barley grains on the ground and wipes his dusty palms to his jeans.

"Gertrude," he scolds after watching their antics for a moment. "Leave some for others as well, please."

Gertrude, the self-proclaimed queen of the coop, has the tendency to hog all the feed. She is an old (but extremely temperamental) lady and probaly doesn't have a lot of time left, but she ought to have some consideration for others nonetheless.

Gertrude, of course, ignores him entirely and Nate sighs shaking his head, something fond in the line of his mouth.

He lifts his head to look at the orange sky under the wide brim of his woven sunhat. The sun is setting behind the thick emerald green fir trees surrounding his small farm, but it's still warm enough to fare without a long-sleeved thicker shirt. Summer is so close he can already taste its sweet sap on the tip of his tongue; the grasshoppers have started singing in his flower fields and Farah tries to sell him melon seeds every time he visits the General Store. He is pretty sure that she has put it together that Nate's daily visits have another reason entirely: the new pretty face in the town called Charlie whom Nate is already utterly captivated by.

tagging my usual people (let me know if you want to be added or removed!!): @lalizah, @nreads, @agentnatesewell, @gaylatteart, @ottobooty, @wayhavenots, @butchdumortain

A/N: this is my twc zombie apocalypse fic!! thank you to everyone who has been encouraging in my writing process, i hope you enjoy!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

She is vaguely aware that her nails are ripping the fabric of Nate’s blood-red shirt, almost digging into his sweat soaked skin; that her parched throat is hoarse from screaming wrecked sobs that are shaking her whole tiny body.

Nate’s face is pressed against her neck and he is breathing shallowly, the wetness of his mouth touching the skin of her throat.

“It’ll be alright, ya rouhi,” says Nate, clutching her arm with a gentle grip, long fingers tracing her skin soothingly and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “You’ll see.”

“I don’t want to… to,” Charlie begins, choking on her tears, but doesn’t even know herself what she attempted to say. She can barely see for how damp her brown eyes are, glistening like stars in the dark. “Fuck.”

“Quite,” Nate says through pained gasps, somehow finding a thread of humour in the situation. Charlie’s fingers touch the wound on his shoulder. The creature shred through it so easily; it doesn’t even look like a bite mark – there is nothing clean about it. The meat was torn apart and Charlie can see bone.

“You’re not allowed to leave me, Nate. Not now. Not ever,” Charlie whispers against Nate’s clammy forehead. She can barely believe that this isn’t a mere awful nightmare she won’t remember in the morning.

“I think that was always inevitable,” Nate says back.

“No, it fucking wasn’t,” Charlie replies fiercely, tugging him closer.

Nate chuckles, before groaning in pain. There is a moment of stillness, before he says it: “I think you should do it.”

NOT YET CORPSES / STILL WE ROT / the wayhaven chronicles / mature / 5 chapters / 30.6k words

No one speaks as Nate starts writhing and moaning on the ground, before Adam takes a step forward. Morgan is the one to actually end it.

Owl hoots in the distance. Then there is just silence.

This is both an end and a beginning.

blake winter x f!mc (juliet radcliffe) / mature / 928 words

tag list: @xx-toto-xx, @loreofyore, @turtleybeachin, @agentnatesewell, @orianaquinn, @thee-morrigan, @nokstella, @wayhavenots, @lalizah, @blu-ewraith (no pressure! <3)

notes: birthed this last night when i couldn't sleep <3 blake winter you will always be famous

She wakes up with someone's face mushed against the back of her sweaty neck and an unfamiliar pair of arms around her bare waist, clutching her tight.

Juliet blinks for a moment. This isn't a strange occurence in truth. It has happened a few times during the tour by now, but it always leaves her feeling a little out of sorts. (Probably because it has been the same person every time.)

She doesn't allow herself to lie around for more than a few minutes before untangling herself from the arms imprisoning her and getting up, putting on a white standard hotel bathrobe and tip-toeing to the bathroom.

Afterwards, Juliet boils water for one of the packets of instant coffee the hotel room provides and as she waits, she watches Blake Winter's sleeping form on her bed.

Juliet would like nothing more than to claim that Blake is just a momentary lapse of judgement – a mere notch in her bedpost or an itch she couldn't help but want to scratch. Just a meaningless after-thought swimming in her brain when she tries to sleep at night, easily forgotten in the light of day.

That would be a horrible lie.

Because she watches him now and realises that the truth is, of course, that she is endlessly, and incredibly unwisely, curious about this man. She wants to know him. She wants to see what makes him tick. She wants to study every cell of his body under a microscope lense. She wants to pull his leash tight and see if he will bark for her.