#almost love confession

[hrefna-the-raven]

The devil you (suddenly) don't know

Masterlist - BG3 masterlist

Part 1 - Part 3 - Part 4

Words:501

Warnings: smutty stuff mentioned but technically no actual smut, at least not in the usual amount

Summary: You're having doubts on what happened between Raphael and you. Raphael seems to have his very own issues with the feelings he's harbouring for you.

Raphael reclined on his bed, his legs casually apart and his gaze fixed on the ceiling, lost in deep in his own thoughts. Haarlep eagerly dragged his tongue from Raphael's chest downwards, teasingly twirling it around the tip of the semi-hard cock.

"My, oh my", the incubus chuckled, "is my dear master preoccupied?", giving the devil's cock frustratingly slow lick.

Raphael hummed absentmindedly, closing his eyes in a futile attempt to block out the world around him, desperately seeking the solace and structure his troubled mind craved since the discussion he had with you.

"I didn't think it possible but here you are, being even less interested and reactive than usual", Haarlep continued shamelessly, "not even able to get it up this time."

"You contemptuous creature!", Raphael spat as he hurled the incubus aside and on the bed, his hands closing around Haarlep's throat, squeezing tightly with a vengeful intensity, "don't forget your place, slave!"

Haarlep's eyes were glowing for a brief moment before the corners of his mouth twisted into a vicious smirk causing Raphael to loosen the hold on his throat.

"It's all about her, isn't it?" he croaked, his voice still hoarse from the choking yet carrying a subtle trace of mischief, "maybe I should take her form then, to please you more, master."

Raphael remained silent, simply waving his hand to dismiss Haarlep. If he had to deal a minute longer with this insufferable incubus, he would surely end up flaying him or worse. He would never confess that Haarlep was correct in this matter, not in front of him, nor anyone else. He was the offspring of Mephistopheles, a cambion fueled by grand aspirations and a reputation to uphold and this was Hell after all. In this realm, he couldn't afford to possess or exhibit emotions - love included. Revealing even the slightest hint of vulnerability would subject him to ridicule, exile, and ultimately, death. A defeated sigh escaped his lips as his hand wandered down, gently stroking his length, closing his eyes in a shameful attempt to experience that kiss once more. You might truly be the death of him.

The eerie silence of the mausoleum hung heavy in the air as you fought through its dimly lit corridors, facing justicar avengers on your way to the Orthon while constantly feeling the weight of your companions' scrutinising stares piercing you.

When Raphael brought you back, they bombarded you with questions, seeking answers that you weren't sure you were ready to give.

You found yourself wrestling with your very own doubts, awash with conflicting emotions. The charming but usually self-absorbed cambion's actions had left you questioning everything you thought you knew about him. Were Raphael's feelings genuine or were they merely a ploy to manipulate you further? Or did you just imagine the hint of a tender gaze and the subtle trace of concern in his voice? The weight of uncertainty pressed upon your chest, making it difficult to focus on the task at hand.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The Dungeon Meshi crew 'leap' into action!

[natalievoncatte]

There was blood on the door. Lena swept back her jacket in a smooth motion and unholstered her Glock carry piece, holding it low ready as she stepped into the penthouse. The door slid shut behind her and locked itself smoothly. There was no sign of forced entry, meaning whoever came in walked right through her defenses.

She’d armored and fortified this place to the point that the entire building could collapse and she’d probably survive. Some of the materials that went into Lena’s security were not from Earth. Some of them were not from this dimension.

In times past, in good times, she’d have called Alex Danvers, to get the DEO up here for help or hopefully summon Supergirl to her aid. Now those options were off the table.

From its place of dishonor by her sofa, the broken glass in the frame gleamed at her, the time-frozen gazes from her and Kara in the photo staring into her soul.

More blood on the frame, smeared on the edge.

Lena rested her back to the wall and scanned the apartment. There was a clear trail of blood from the door through the living room. Whoever had been here, or was still here, had pressed a bloodied palm to the reader outside the door, leaned on the kitchen island, and picked up the photo, then returned it to its place and left a trail of blood drops to the other side of the penthouse.

To the bedroom.

Steeling herself, Lena press-checked her pistol and ignored the cold ball in the pit of her stomach, along with the screaming instincts telling her to call for her bodyguards and security and the police. She followed the trail of drops, that cold ball climbing its way to her throat. The bleeding got worse as the intruder approached the bedroom, where they’d pushed the door open, leaving a streak of rust on the white.

Lena knew in her heart what she was going to see before she swung the door open.

The gun fell from her hands and clattered on the floor.

Her sheets were streaked with dried blood, but Kara’s cape was as livid a crimson as ever. Fighting the rising gorge in her throat, Lena rushed to the bed, and let out a soft, strained sigh of relief when she saw Kara’s chest moving.

“Mother of God,” Lena breathed, her hands making a vestigial effort to cross herself, the gesture half remember from her earliest youth.

Kara was… a wreck. Her eye was swollen shut and claw marks raked her cheek, the wounds still open and oozing. She’d balled up the sheets and jammed them against a wound in her side, a deep gash that stained the torn material of her suit a dark bruised black.

The Kryptonian in her bed was unconscious, eyes lidded but not fully closed, and deathly pale. Lena reached out a tentative hand and pressed it to Kara’s shoulder and let out a shocked gasp.

She was cold to the touch.

Worst of all was her hands. Her knuckles were busted and split and bloody, palms covered in defensive gashes, crusted with crystals of dark blood.

Lena felt like she was going to burst, like her skin was suddenly three sizes too small. Images flashed in her mind- a defeated, broken Kara, begging her not to turn her back as she lay green-veined and poisoned in a cage at the Fortress of Solitude. Sanctimonius bitch Kara hovering just five feet off her balcony wall, glaring judgment and proclaiming her a villain.

Soft Kara, tending her hurts, holding her cheek in the palm of her hand, her touch always so soft and gentle and tentative, like Lena was some skittish bird.

That wasn’t all. Oh God, that wasn’t all. Kara clutched something to her chest, something she’d grabbed before collapsing in the bed and curled into herself.

Lena’s hooded sweatshirt, the one she used to wear to game nights and movie nights when she wasn’t feeling up to primping and preening, the one she stared wearing when being vulnerable around Kara started feeling like home.

Oh God oh Jesus what am I going to do?

She reached for her phone, then stopped. Kara had fled here from whatever did this to her for a reason. Lena set the phone aside, and assessed.

Kara was out cold. She didn’t seem to be actively bleeding but Lena didn’t dare move her. Instead, she settled for rolling Kara on her back, with great difficulty. She flopped over, boneless.

Lena found her first aid kid and began tending to the wounds.

Fuck, Lena thought. What if she had internal injuries? What if she wasn’t going to wake up?

She focused on what was in front of her. She began by cleaning the wounds, carefully and gingerly applying bandages where she could.

Her hands, oh God her poor hands. Lena wrapped the knuckles gently and pressed ice against them, leaving them testing on Kara’s chest. She dabbed at the wounds on her cheek and carefully taped gauze pads in place after applying antibiotic ointment.

Kara lay on the bed like some badly beaten Sleeping Beauty and she was cold. Her skin felt almost icy, the I only sign that she still lived being the steady but shallow rise and fall of her chest.

Lena grimace. She had to get her out of the suit. First she reclaimed her now ruined and blood-stained sweatshirt and then the ruined top sheet.

Kara’s boots came off, then Lena unclamped her cape and tossed it back from her shoulders.

It took almost half an hour to wriggle her out of the suit, and that was after she had to hunt for the hidden catches and zipper.

Kara lay on Lena’s bed like some wounded goddess out of a forgotten myth, or maybe one never learned.

God she was beautiful, and the sight of her in such distress was more painful than she’d ever admit. Lena felt sympathetic pains in her jaw, her sides, her hands as she imagined the blows that could have wounded her so, wondered what sharpness of blade or claw it took to mark her like this.

Lena spread the curtains, so as to give her as much light as she could. Nurturing light, healing light, but still Lena did not wake.

Finally she learned what did this. Some alien outside Metropolis. They’d stopped it, the creature, but it had taken Kara and her cousin and the other so-called heroes that the news were calling the League.

Lena’s lip was trembling.

She has her grievances. She had her hurts. She had her reasons, her self-righteous justifications and none of them fucking mattered right now because a beaten, broken Kara must have flown from one side of the country to the other to clutch Lena’s fucking hoodie.

“God,” she whispered, sitting in her side chair by the bed. “God what have I done.”

Kara had held them off, she knew. Kept her from being arrested, protected her even after she’d done something awful. New visions flooded her mind, every barb she’d slung and every insult she’d hurled, every word of her explosive raging rant at the Fortress.

She’d killed her brother for this woman. Killed not the man who’d hurt her but the boy, too, the one who treated her like a human being and a sibling, at least for a time. The only family she had.

(The only family you have is lying on that bed and you have to help her)

She was helpless. Kara would either pull through or she wouldn’t. If she didn’t, sooner or later Alex would walk in here and put a bullet through her head and Lena didn’t think she’d mind all that much.

“Why couldn’t you have just told me?” Lena asked. “We could have been great together, you know? We could have been what my brother and your cousin should have been. We could have built a better world.”

Kara said nothing, just breathed.

“I could have told you my secret, then,” said Lena. “I could have held you and touched you and had you. I could have loved you, God damn it. Do you have any idea what you fucking did to me? You gave me the sunrise back and you were too much of a Goddamn coward to let me have it.”

Kara’s hand moved, fingers curling around nothing. She let out a soft sigh but didn’t move.

Lena fought it as hard as she could, fought it for hours. Eventually she had to do it. Gravity, quantum entanglement, call it what you will. She laid down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling beside her battered sleeping beauty.

“I’m sorry,” said Lena. “I’m sorry I hurt you, I’m sorry for what I did, I’m sorry for what we lost. It wasn’t worth it, Kara. Nothing was ever going to be worth it.”

She was still pale, cold, even when she rolled onto her side and threw her limp arm over Lena’s body.

Whatever made her move had not shaken her loose from her slumber. Kara curled on her side, chill hand resting on Lena’s flank. Another soft sound escaped her slack lips and she twitched.

The sun was going down.

Lena had to call for help. She knew what would happen. Alex would storm in with her self-righteous fury and judgment and fling accusations and then leave, taking her sister with her.

Worse, she would give Lena that look. The one that filled her with such rage and regret, that look not of judgement or even anger but sorrow, because Alex knew. She didn’t have to say it, it had been dripping from every word and deed directed towards Lena since the falling out began.

Alex knew that Lena was in love with Kara. That was the truth of it, the secret she held so hard to her heart that it had slipped her fingers and everyone had seen it but the two of them.

She loved Kara with every piece of her, every cell, every muscle fiber, every neuron, every bone. It lived in her and coiled in her and it had subsumed her soul until it couldn’t be carved out without making her hollow. She’d tried. When she’d hurt Kara she had only wounded herself even deeper. It had been like swallowing a draught of acid and expecting it to burn another.

She didn’t know what to do. She was helpless. Kara might be dying and Lena had never told her.

“Kara,” she said, shaking her. “Kara God damn you wake up, wake the fuck up! WAKE UP!”

Kara didn’t respond.

With a shriek of rage and pain Lena sat up.

“Please!”

Nothing.

Lena finally did it. She snatched the phone from where she’d dropped it and called.

It all happened as she predicted, save one thing. When Alex stormed in with a sub machinegun in her hands, she stopped and raised a fist, ordering her team to stop outside the door.

Lena was kneeing by the bed by then, half mumbling a prayer and stroking Kara’s cold hand.

Alex did not address her. She began barking orders. Stasis pod, medivac.

Bring the Luthor.

Lena sat in the back of an armored van in a daze. She let herself be led around like a trained pet and somehow ended up sitting in a chair outside a medbay room, while a now cleaned up and properly bandaged Kara lay on a bed beneath sunlamps.

“She’s in a Kryptonian healing trance,” said Alex. “If a Kryptonian gets hurt badly enough their body shuts down and goes into a kind of hibernation. She must have used almost all of her reserves to get back to your apartment.”

Alex glared directly into her eyes.

“To see you one last time.”

Lena swore her defiance in silence, but it lasted no longer than it took her to think the oath before the tears started.

“I have to go. The DEO is working with Superman’s little Boy Scout club to keep the thing that did this to her contained.”

When Alex left, Lena stood up and walked into the room.

Kara did not look regal. She didn’t look angelic. She looked vulnerable and small, like a woman a year or two older than Lena with a black eye and stitches in her cheek.

Lena knew the sun lamps would burn her, but she relished it, looked forward to feeling her skin sting and redden. She deserved it.

“Kara,” Lena whispered. “Please wake up.”

Nothing.

“Wake up.”

Nothing.

“Darling, wake up for me, please. Just give me a smile, a wink, squeeze my hand. Anything. Please. Please.”

Kara stirred.

“You can’t go yet,” Lena murmured. “I need you to stay. I need you to wake up so I can say—”

Kara’s eyes were open.

“I love you,” Kara whispered. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

Lena half coughed, half sobbed and lunged across the bed, ignoring the lamps, the bright lights, everything but Kara. Everything but the kiss.

“Don’t you ever scare me like this again,” Lena choked out.

“Turn the lights off,” Kara whispered. “Get on the bed. I don’t need lamps. I need you.”

“Kara, the things I did,” Lena began.

With a weak, shaking hand, Kara pressed her finger to Lena’s lips.

“There’s nothing we can’t fix if we’re together. Nothing.”

Lena reached over, doused the lamps, and climbed in with her. Kara was finally warm again, though she grimaced when she moved, tucking herself into the crook of Lena’s shoulder.

“I will always come back to you,” said Kara.

Lena held her close and closed her eyes, and for the first time in months she slept without tears.

[fast-andthe-curious]

I never realized this-

Edwin: I love you in a romantic way not a friend way

Charles: I love you too but as a friend okay? My bisexual crisis will come later-

Maxine bawling on the stairs of hell: ReaLly gUys riGhT iNfRoNt of mY mEntAl bReaKdOwn!?!

[bimoonphases]

@wolfstarmicrofic September 10 - prompt 10: Knight Bus [word count 513]

Come to think of it, it hadn’t really been a good idea. Well no, actually it had been an amazing idea to go out in muggle London all together on one of those things Muggles called pub crawls. No, the not so good idea in James’s hindsight had been the amount of alcohol they had ingested. Peter had fallen asleep in the split second they had taken out of the last pub to summon the Knight Bus, Sirius wasn’t able to stand on his own and even him had trouble stepping on the bus and handing the guy looking at them with amusement the money for their tickets. The only one functioning was Remus, who was now helping Sirius sit down on one of the beds.

“You’re warm,” Sirius slurred, passing his arms around Remus’s waist.

James noticed that Remus’s lips were reduced to a thin line that in that moment reminded him scarily of Professor McGonagall. He managed to put Peter down on the same bed, where he kept on snoring without even waking up as the Knight Bus bolted forward, and frowned. Even with all the alcohol coursing through his veins he knew Remus was angry. And he knew why.

The last pub they had been into, the one where the tipsiness had turned into drunkenness, had had a massive Pride flag over the door and a statuesque drag queen welcoming people just inside.

“Welcome home, darlings,” she had smiled as they had stumbled towards the bar.

Sirius was visibly ecstatic about the place, and had launched himself on the dance floor the second they had downed their first tequila shots. He had taken them all with them, but as the hour went on and they had drunk more and Remus had sat down on a bar stool because his hip was starting to hurt and Peter was staring dreamy-eyed at another drag queen and he had had yet another drink offered by a guy in a cowboy hat and little else or what looked like a very expensive and very out of place button down, Sirius hadn’t left the dance floor. He had been smiling and laughing and whirling gracefully from hot guy to hot guy and Remus’s expression had become more and more closed down. Looking at him now, James wondered if he could take advantage of his own state to tell Remus outright that Sirius was as in love with him as Remus was with Sirius and had been for years now. But sooner or later Sirius would sober up and kill him if he did that, so he just sighed and leaned on the bus window. Sirius chose that moment to nuzzle Remus’s neck.

“You’re hot, you know that?” he murmured.

James saw Remus freeze.

“But not as hot as the love of my life,” Sirius went on.

“Is that so?” Remus rolled his eyes.

“Yes. His name is Remus and I’m gonna marry him one day. Well, after I find the guts to tell him I love him,” Sirius nodded, closing his eyes.

James saw Remus’s eyes widen and his cheeks instantly turn the colour of the Gryffindor banner and he sent a silent thank you to whoever had invented tequila.

[petricorah]

zuko alone pt 2

lovingly inspired by this [ids in alt]

[mischiefbuckley]

Eddie not having a visitors pass on and already being in the room with Buck during his visit like at the end of the day Eddie isn’t just a visitor to Buck and Buck will never be a guest in Eddie’s house like let me just scream

[luck-of-the-drawings]

"I think this is the most inhuman; and human, that I've ever felt.." MUCH CAN HAPPEN IN A YEAR. IN FIVE YEARS. A DECADE. imagine how much can happen in a century. just ONE (1). How will you grow? what phases do you find? even in 5 years, you will find patterns.

[pharawee]

How could I be disgusted when I probably feel the same way?

[yanderemommabean]

sloths or koalas?

tsk...Koalas can at least keep up by holding onto you, while a sloth has like...hardly any strength to hold on to branches a lot of the time let alone enough energy to stay awake.

Imma say the chlamydia carrying care bear (Koala) !

-Mommabean

[its-short-for-jackalope]

Drawing request drawing request! If u’d like, can u do Holloduke/Holloweane? If not that, then maybe Chumby, the Hatchetfield Ape-Man with Willabella Muckwab. Put ‘em in a room together and see what happens haha!

Just run away with me, [I] won't feel so alone

[hrefna-the-raven]

I can handle myself, Raphael

Masterlist - BG3 masterlist

Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Words: 439

Summary: You meet Raphael outside the mausoleum but Raphael loses his temper for a moment, giving you a rare opportunity to get a glimpse behind that cold self-absorbed and arrogant façade.

"I can handle myself, Raphael", you huffed slightly annoyed.

If you didn't know any better, one might almost believe that he genuinely cared about your well-being, as if you were more than just a valuable asset, a strategically placed pawn in his twisted game.

"Don't be absurd", the cambion's lips curved into a smile, although his eyes remained fixed on yours, a flicker of sadness briefly passing through them, "I'm more than sure you'd be capable of defeating this enemy of mine but", his hand casually gestured towards your companions, "this is a deal between your bloodsucking friend and myself, so why don't y-"

"Listen devil!", you interrupted him rather rudely, "if you think that I-"

Your voice trailed off as his hand seized the fabric of your robe, and suddenly everything around you began to spin, the cries of your companions fading into the distance as you were pulled into a void of darkness.

After a few moments of frantic blinking, you found yourself in an expansive chamber adorned with walls painted a deep shade of crimson.

Raphael's grip on your robe remained firm as he forcefully propelled you towards a lavish king-sized bed framed in shimmering gold, his face contorted into a blend of irritation and seething rage, and as his human façade dissipates, his infernal form is unveiled - fiery wings unfurling and a menacing finger aimed in your direction.

"You listen to me now, little mouse!", he hissed, "I acknowledge your prowess in combat, but this Orthon poses a grave threat, and my involvement in this matter is driven by personal motives. I will not allow you to endanger your life for this cause!"

Raphael's gaze burned with anger as he shifted his focus between your eyes and your mouth, his breaths becoming more labored with each passing moment. A smug grin slowly crept across your face.

"Are you implying that you actually care about my well-being, even worry about me?", you playfully taunted.

Raphael suddenly became all too aware that he had come dangerously close to you during his outburst, trapping you on his bed, helpless and confined between his arms while his heavy, furious breath brushed against your pale complexion. With a defeated sigh, he slowly withdrew.

"Let's forget this ever happened," Raphael reverted back to his human form and clasped your hand. "I'll bring you back."

You tenderly wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you placed a quick but gentle kiss upon his lips. "If the cat ever dares to truly reveal its hidden emotions for the mouse, it should be aware that the mouse will be patiently waiting."

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lap Pillow

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[fuedalreesespieces]

sota's brave confession of love being that episode:

[worth noting here that in the dub the way richard says "WHAT-ever..." priceless.]

[also worth noting that in the dub he says "you already said that" instead of "hah! what're you saying?!" which feels more like an inuyasha response to me. then again we'll never know since this is technically anime-only, and while i tend not to like a lot of inuyasha filler, if it's in the modern day i will eat it up. every. time.]

inuyasha being stunned by the sheer amount of goods in a grocery store...gold. earlier in this episode he also seemed enamored by baked goods, and i wonder if he's ever really had anything resembling it? bread made its way to japan mid-16th century via portuguese traders, so it's likely he's never had anything like it and the smell must've been new to him - it would've been interesting if we'd seen him trying all these new foods!

i can never decide whether or not sunrise likes inukag bc they'll cut out canon scenes of them but then insert scenes like this in their filler eps...what game are ya'll playing? but flustered inuyasha is adorable so i can't complain this time.

eavesdropping...

i'm sorry WHERE is he getting these questions from i actually burst out laughing

called out by an eight year old...

i don't care whether or not this is ooc because i laughed way too hard like he really got dragged from potential sleep to deal with this LMAO

this is the cutest thing i've ever seen and it only gets better:

shortly after: sota getting kicked out of his own house after chickening out for the tenth time this episode

smol

flustered inukag my beloved...

anyway this episode is a dumb fun and i love it to an insane degree. the only part i would say is out of character (at least, more out of character than sunrise already does inuyasha) is when he literally makes this face at the thought of confessing to kagome:

coming from the guy who was pretty open about his feelings in the manga and quite literally told kagome - thinking she was hearing him - that he likes seeing her smile and feels relieved when he's by her side, i don't see him getting this flustered - but the face he makes is priceless.

[nelkcats]

Love me, Love me not

To gain power and cause chaos Klarion summons the Ghost King; when Danny appears in the summoning circle Klarion confesses that he is in love with him, and he is what he always dreamed of, the halfa is confused at first but the witch boy sounds so certain that he starts to believe it.

After some time with him Danny starts to like the witch and considers dating him, but the more time they spend together, the more doubtful he becomes about his decision and one day the halfa finally asks "Why do you love me?" Klarion immediately replies "Because you are powerful"

Danny is confused by that answer. He had been helping Klarion for a couple of days and the boy always praised his power, but surely he had to love something else? Feeling his heart in his throat the halfa asked "And what else?", Klarion remains silent.

Is a bittersweet revelation for Danny, who thought someone finally loved him for more than just his power, he probably should have seen it coming; but they had been through so much, discovered so much about the world together, that the Ghost King foolishly thought they were really falling in love.

Before the boy can break his heart into more pieces, the King runs away feeling like the world's biggest idiot. Of course Klarion only wanted power from him, he said so from the beginning. But Danny wanted so badly to believe otherwise.

He could go back and kill him with a snap of his fingers, but what good would it do? He would only be destroying himself, because at the end of the day the Ghost King fell in love with the Witch boy.

When Danny runs, Klarion realizes that he was in love with him, but maybe it's too late for that

[optiwashere]

Huh, I didn't even realize it'd been a year since BG3 came out until I opened tumblr this morning. Kinda wild. I didn't think much of the game's release: I like Larian's games, and I like the BG series. I wasn't ever going to skip the game, but I didn't think I'd play it at launch because I was busy working on a novel in 2023 and not doing well financially.

Thankfully, circumstances left me with a little bit of extra money last year just before launch and it meant I could spend on a video game. I needed a pick-me-up after said 2023 novel failed to go anywhere, and BG3 was right there. Like most CRPGs, I played it in basically every moment of free time that I had and did as much as I possibly could in one playthrough.

It's so odd how these small happenstances can snowball into coming back to fandom, finding some friends I might've never met otherwise, and writing a lot of fanfiction along the way. I'll probably have something more interesting to say/share when it's the 14th, AKA when I sat down and wrote my first fic for this fandom.

Anyways, it's been a lot of fun and I'm looking forward to more years to come 💜