#and i realised that i can't go back to him to tell him that i understand the joke now

[yuvany]

#BAKING WITH ENHYPEN

𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 x female reader ⎯ CONTENT / WARNING(S) :: fluff + est relationship + kisses + not proofread. . . WORD COUNT : 825 . . CHECK BOX .ᐟ

( reblogs + feedback always appreciated !! )

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

You invited him over after seeing a video of a couple bake, and I mean, Heeseung ran over to you as quick as he saw your message. He enters your kitchen, where you had partially laid out all the equiptment and ingredients while he made his way over. He is about to start baking immedietly, but you stop him and tell him that he needs to wash his dirty hands first. "But my love, these hands hold the love I have for you." He pleads, holding his hands out dramatically. "Hee, that's disgusting. Wash your hands." You say, pulling him over to the sink.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

Jay suddenly had an innovative idea of a new pastery and urged you to come over and help him, by that he means observe. "babe, what was your idea?" you asked, seeing him rush into the kitchen and prep it while you slowly follow behind him. "I wanted to make a heart shaped version of your favourite." You chuckle, and begin washing your hands and putting on an apron since you know how he is with hygiene. Turns out it wasn't necessary because you became a kitchen princess. Jay did all the baking unless you asked to help, and let you lick all the utensils with dough and batter while you both washed the dishes together.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

"Jake, are you sure you have sugar?" you ask, and he nods. "Of course I do, even if I didn't, you'd suffice!" He winks, but you shrug it off with a chuckle. The first half of the recipe goes well becuase Jake did in fact have sugar in his pantry. Then you see Layla walk into the kitchen and you figure that you could leave him alone for just a moment, but turn out you were proven incorrect. Jake makes a discovery that he doesn't own a scale, and stop baking for a moment before he gives up on the recipe and free-styles. You return and sees that the batter is all clumpy and discoloured. "What did you do, babe." You ask, and see him smiling tensly.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡

Is very excited becuase he gets to experience what a normal teenage experperience would be like even though he's an adult. Sunghoon looks up many recipes before showing you the one he finds is the more fitting and looks the best, becuase he wants whatever he does to be the best. You nod and give him a kiss on the cheek before handing him an apron. You two stick together and switch roles every time, and while it's your turn to measure the ignredients, you aren't as creful and exact as him. "You need to fill it a bit more." He says, and you say, "It'll be fine, Hoon."

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢

Is sneaky and adds extra of whatever he likes into the bowl whenever you aren't looking. You turned around to look at the recipe on your tablet after already adding the sugar, but Sunoo is fast and adds more to it, his reflexses are quick, and when you turn around, you see him standing there innocently with a smile on his face. You don't realise this until after the batter out of the oven, becuase when you take a bite of it, you can't help but feel like something is off even though you can't put your finger on it. "Is it supposed to taste like this?" You question. " I think it tastes perfect!"

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

At the start, everything was cute and organised, but when Jungwon placed the batter into the oven, he started to get impatient while waiting and got an idea when he looked at his palms that were still covered in flour. A smirk spread across his face and you were unaware of what was going to happen since you were focused on your phone. You feel a tap on your shoulder, and when you turn around, you are met with a handful of flour hitting your face. You wipe it away, and quickly scanned the situation, doing the same as him, turning this into a flour battle. "Come back here!" You called out to Jungwon who was running away.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

Tells you to sit back and watch him be 'Gordon Ramsay' even though you were the one who told him you wanted to bake for him. Every time you attempt to sneak into the kitchen to do something, he nudges you back out and tells you, "I'm a master, trust and you'll taste my amazing choco cake." Riki looks proud as he puffs out his chest with a smile. "If you say so." You shrug, and let him do what he wants. "y/n, do you know where the flour is?" He asks, and you walk over to a cabinet show him the bucket with flour. "So, am I qualified to be your assistant now?" you tease. "Sure, but I'll still be the one to bake for you." Riki says, kissing your hair.

TAGLIST : @dollyhoon @itjengirl @saeivra @orimuraa

[shrimpybbq]

season 1 rafe with his gf & son

i have to be sooo truthful here in that rafe is like 90% the actual worst during the events of season 1 to high school gf!

he's still doing drugs and going to parties, never coming home until the early morning if at all

maybe he was on better terms with his gf for a while, but everyone on the island knows that the pair are always on-and-off

when they are good, rafe is surprisingly sweet to her. he's always opening doors and looking after their son so she can rest. rafe is so much more physically affectionate too during these times, with his hands always on her, stroking her hip or playing with her hair

and then when they fight, it's like all that goes away and he's back to ignoring her

she lives in the main house now as that's where their son's nursery is, but most of the time she's sleeping in the guest room after they argue

rafe's idea of family bonding is going to the country club, drinking his expensive whiskey and eating overpriced food. he likes seeing his son look around wide-eyed at the new sights and new people, and he enjoys having his son sit in his lap while he drinks, mumbling nonsense to see his little smile

he tries to take his son out golfing once only to realise that he couldn't be away from his mother for so long, much to his annoyance. it's fine though bc he's insisting they all go together next time - problem solved in his mind

rafe and high school gf! go to midsummer's together as each others dates. rafe wouldn't have let her go with anyone else anyway, but he likes the display of having her on his arm. he matches his suit to the floral design of her gown to make the statement even clearer (they have a child together and he's worried about people knowing she's his???)

he manages to hide a lot of the events that go on from his gf, but some of them still reach her ears courtesy of sarah, and he can't stand the disappointed look she gives him. sometimes though, he makes her sit down and listen to his explanation, trying to get her to see his side. he's so relieved when she nods and no longer looks at him in that way (but she still doesn't tell him he was right, he always notes)

when barry burns rafe, he's knocking on the door of the guest room with tears in his eyes, clutching his badly burnt arm to his chest. gf just looks at him wide-eyed, telling him to sit on her bed while she grabs the first aid kit. rafe can't help but let the tears stream down his face as she cleans, his head coming to rest on her shoulder as he sobs. that night is the first time he sleeps with her in the guest room, his head nuzzled into her chest as she cradles him

ok but if barry ever threatens his girl and kid rafe won't let it go. he's landing a punch on the drug dealer's face immediately, his rage spiking instantaneously. barry learns not to threaten them again after the second time he wore purple bruises on his chin

oh, sweet pretty gf has no idea what rafe has done to the sheriff, and he plans to keep it that way. he wanted to protect his dad, but he absolutely refuses to let anything happen to his own family. she's so shocked when he tells her of john b's actions, the boy having lived down the hall from them, and rafe plays into the role of protector again. he's got her in his arms as she cries about how he was around their son, and rafe just hums and tells her "i would never let someone hurt either of you, you know that right?". it warms his heart to see her nod into his chest.

sometimes his gf walks into the nursery only to see her son not in his crib, but she knows exactly where he is. pushing open rafe's door she sees the two of them in bed, her sweet baby cuddled up on rafe's bare chest as they both sleep. he needs to be with his son when he has a bad day, which seems to be more often than not nowadays

rafe is rapidly growing more mentally unwell and the only thing that seems to soothe him is his gf and son, and he spends as much time as he can with them. the little baby is always in his arms as he coos down at him, watching his kid's eyes brighten at the sight of his dada. rafe reasons with himself that everything he does is to protect his family and that he couldn't be wrong then, could he?

Oh this was a bit of a novel, but rafe truly has so many facets to explore, let alone once you give him a big motivator like a kid!

*i think i'm going to expand on high school gf! looking after rafe and his burn bc its such a vulnerable moment for him

[ughgoaway]

What was it like when neighbor Matty and girlie met 🤭

-Belle <3 <3 (love u)

omg, my beloved belle!!! good question my love

Ooooh okay, so I think you first see each other on move-in day. you're lugging box after box upstairs, pink-cheeked and sweaty in a way that makes you look like you're on mile 25 of a marathon. Wou were expecting to be able to use the lift, but there's a sign on it that says “broken until further notice” and judging by the dust that covers the paper, it's been that way for a long time.

You're dragging the last box across the floor when a man dressed in all black with curls peeking out the hood dragged over his head strolls into the building, he spares a glance at you and smiles, adjusting the headphones that sit on his ears. Despite them being plugged into his iPod, you can hear the heavy bass and mumbled lyrics in the room just because of how loud it's blasting in his ears.

He strolls past you carelessly, walking up to the lift and pressing the button. You go to grab his shoulder and tell him it's broken, but before you can the lift dings, and the doors slide open. You watch in frustrated shock as he strolls in, pressing the door close button and shooting you a wink a few seconds before they click closed. you don't take the final box up the lift out of principle, but by floor 3 you're wondering if you have any principles left or if you've sweat them all out.

But you don't count that as your first meeting, because neither of you spoke, the actual first time you met was under unfortunate circumstances.

Matty being a bartender means he really has no concept of other people's less nocturnal schedules, so when he comes home at 4 am from a shift, he doesn't hesitate to turn on the radio and clang around his kitchen making a grilled cheese.

As soon as the radio clicks on you roll your eyes and flip over in bed, dragging your pillow over your ears as you do. You try to let it go, not wanting to be that annoying neighbour on day one of moving in, but when he drops a pan on the floor and it makes an ear-shattering bang, you can't help but roll out of bed and storm over. You knock furiously on his door, gradually banging louder and louder when he can't hear you over the nirvana he’s blaring.

Eventually, the door creeks open, and Matty doesn't hesitate to look you up and down, silently judging your Winnie the Pooh pyjamas with a smirk. It's then you realise the hot mystery stranger from earlier just happens to be your neighbour, and a shitty one already.

Your eyes widen briefly at the sight of him, but they soon settle into a scowl Matty grows to know all too well. You huff lightly before speaking, “Look, maybe your last neighbour was more cool than me, or half dead, but would you be able to turn your music down a bit? It's 4am and I've only just finished unpacking. i'd like to sleep without Kurt Cobain screaming at me through the wall”

Luckily the man whose name you don't yet know nods, not dragging his eyes away from your exposed legs before he speaks. “‘Course love. Don't wanna stop you getting your beauty sleep, do I, princess?” his familiar smirk falling over his face once again. Maybe it was endearing the first few times, but at this point, you kind of want to smack it off his smug face. 

“Thanks. princess,” you respond, rolling your eyes as you walk back to your apartment, acutely aware of his eyes on your ass as you stroll. You turn back to catch him in the act, but his stare doesn't falter when you spin around, instead, he nods at you and winks just like he had earlier on, clicking his tongue before slipping back into his apartment. You stay frozen for a few seconds, but the gradual turning down of smells like teen spirit brings you back to earth, finally able to hear your thoughts again. It's then and there you knew he’d be trouble, and you didn't like that you couldn't quite figure out how you felt about that.

[nxtaliaistyping]

eddie getting his brains pegged out?

The Riddler getting pegged <3

Authors note: I’m physically unable to resist any edward requests atm omg, I’ve nearly collected all his trophies in Arkham knight I need him so bad.

18+ nsfw, fem reader, reluctant sub eddie lmao

A man like Edward, someone so prideful, so narcissistic, so egotistical, it’s hard for him to let go of the sense of control that permeates his desires. So you have to start slow.

He usually takes the lead during your sexual escapades, enjoying seeing you submit to him and give him the praise he believes he deserves. But you slowly start to push back, praising him in specific ways that have a confused blush painting his cheeks before he scoffs dismissively.

You know you have to take it slow; but you're in it for the long haul, teasingly pulling his hair occasionally, or pinning him down as you both make-out on the bed sloppily. Pushing and pushing, eventually you broach the subject, leading him to scoff at you.

"You seriously think I, The Riddler, would willingly debase myself to such an extent as to allow you to do that to me?"

At your slight pout, he rolls his eyes, "you'd have to be a very good girl in order for that to happen."

But what you don't know, is the thrilling lurch in his stomach that unfolded at the suggestion. As he dismissively leaves the room, he tries in vain to cover up the fact his bulge is pressing firmly against his suit trousers, straining the green material.

So you keep pushing, keep gently needling until the time finally comes when the genius is laying on his back, toes curled slightly as you work two lubed fingers inside of him.

"Is this it? I must say for someone so eager, you don't seem to be putting in much effort." he says snarkily, always feeling the desire for control.

"Don't wanna hurt you." you reply.

"...as if you could." he says, but his tone is soft, as if he's subtly thanking you for your care.

With the help of extra lube, you push three fingers inside, prodding around for that certain spot. He wriggles, about to make another comment before his breath stutters and his eyes widen. Found it.

"Again." he demands, and you can't help but smirk a little smugly as you repeat the motion, a soft breath escaping your lover. You keep going, scissoring him open. Each brush of your fingers around his prostate has him tightening around you, a gasp releasing itself from the narcissist. You keep a steady rhythm, wanting to pleasure him as well as just prep him to take something bigger.

“…get on with it, if you wanted t-to fuck me, you might as well do it.”

The impatience bleeds through his tone, but you relent and remove your fingers, retrieving the strap on from the closet. His eyes are firmly fixated on the toy, a little nervous (although he would never tell you that, of course). You lube it up, positioning the fake cock at his entrance.

“Get a move on, I thought you wanted to-“

As you push the cock head inside, his voice trails off into a stuttery whine. It can only be described as a whine, as it’s higher pitched and breathy as it claws its way out of his throat. His fists rake their way against the sheets below, as you keep slowly pushing. Watching his hole accommodate your fake dick is a sight to behold.

Eventually you bottom out inside of him, watching the way the sweat shines on his skin, his red hair sticking to his forehead. His eyes can’t decide whether to remain open and wide or screw themselves shut tightly.

“Fuck…m-move. Do something…fuck me.” He demands, attempting to regain some semblance of control. But you’re always one to please, so you start to slowly pull out before pushing back in.

A moan escapes him, feeling your fake cock fill him up so deliciously. You can’t help but smile down at him, watching his chest rise and fall as you repeat the slow motion a few times. Inside, his chest tightens at how good it feels, but most of all how safe he feels with you; truly a disarming realisation.

“Feel good Eddie?”

“You…fucking know it feels good you little brat-“

He’s cut off once again by a particularly harder thrust. Laughing softly, you keep up the increased pace, determined to get him to make those lovely noises.

Edward hates being laughed at, but he’s finding it difficult to snap at you when you’re nailing his prostate with every thrust. “Fuck…I-I’ll get you back for this you know…nobody laughs at me…”

Your hands travel the expanse of his chest and abdomen, feeling the skin beneath you as well as his little twitches. Having the time of your life, your fingers travel to his nipples, circling them and causing his back to arch a little.

“Ah…m-more.”

You could have been mean, made him beg for it…but there’s plenty of time for that later. At this point, you wanted to see your lover achieve ecstasy, so you play with his nipples in time with your thrusts. His hands release the sheets only to find their new home grabbing your arms.

He isn’t used to this, feeling so…out of control, so pleasured despite being so vulnerable. It’s an addictive feeling, he can understand why you love it so much.

It isn’t long before the twitching increases in his muscles, and you reach down to pump his cock, hard and angry looking; pre cum dribbling out of the head. Truly, he’s in heaven now, the sensations fulfilling desires he didn’t know he had.

“You close Eddie? Gonna make a mess?” You can’t help but tease.

“…yes…yes…gonna make a mess.”

His tone is quieter than usual, a little more broken. Seemingly his pride has leaked out of his ears with what feels like his brain as he’s railed, or at the very least is now lying dormant for now.

Moving your hand up and down, you use your other to grab his hip, allowing you to bear a little of your weight down to thrust with more vigour. Noises are truly being pushed from his mouth now, his mouth constantly slack at the dual stimulation.

“So close…” he says quietly, a lot more quiet than you’re used to him being, which makes you nod and smile.

“Want you to finish eddie, want you to feel good.”

He cums with a strangled cry, truly making a mess of himself as he comes thick ropes all over his abdomen, some reaching his chest and even as high as his collarbone. It looks like he’s shivering, clearly the experience was intense. You pull out gently, cunt throbbing at the whimpered hiss as he suddenly feels empty.

“You did so well Edward.”

“Yes yes I know I did.” He remarks dismissively, although his tone betrays how spent he really is. With an uncharacteristically soft look, he glances at you. “You didn’t do too badly either.”

High praise coming from Edward, as you dutifully grab a washcloth and clean his cum off himself. “I really should have made you lick it off, a reward for me for letting you do that.”

As if his reward wasn’t getting his brains fucked out and cumming all over himself. But you know…you know you’ll be able to do this again, and you know that next time you’ll be able to do something about his brattiness.

[saintsbuffy]

You’re an angel, i’m a dog.

Pairing: Lucanis/Rook Lucanis/Rook/Spite

TW: injury detail, heavy sexual references, abuse, grief, suicidal idolisation, implied non con, spite being a freak, possession, substances.

Word count: around 5000

Chapter: 2/?

2 - DEVIL LIKE ME

— Rook is injured, Lucanis tries to help.

Lucanis - Bold

Spite - Italics

We've been waiting for this haven't we.

Spites familiar voice echos in Lucanis's head, the feral creatures nails claw his mind as the shadow figure takes form beside him.

Rook tentatively approaches as Lucanis glances around the room before pulling over a large crate for him to sit on and gesturing for Rook to take the armchair opposite him. Even though the crate is slightly too small for him and a few inches shorter than the chair it manages to hold his weight and leaves him eye level with her.

She's watching him and he moves the equipment to one side, careful to pick up any glass shards as he piles tubes and viles into a corner and stacks the books clearing the space between them. His face remains a mask of ease but she can't help but notice the small bead of sweat that forms at his brow. When was the last time he had hosted a girl in his room? He couldn't remember. Come to think of it, when was the last time Lucanis had hosted anyone in his room?

Lucanis shifts in his seat, crossing and uncrossing his arms. He had always been bad at making small talk but now he felt like he'd forgotten how to speak entirely. After a moment the silence is broken by a low humming noise, some variation of a song his grandmother would sing to him many years ago. The noise fades in and out but Rook dosent react, Lucanis is the only one who can hear it.

Quiet.

The girl is studying he realises. Head cocked to one side she watches how he moves and breathes, her guard his up, her discomfort increasing and yet she dosent make a move to leave.

"So..." Rook rests her arms on the oversized chair, one knee crossed other the other, fingers tapping on the edge. "Are you going to tell me how you did that thing out there." She raises her hand and seems to be trying to project her power but all he sees is empty air.

He had felt her magic approaching of course, the thrum of power had given him plenty of warning. The spell she had encountered had taken almost a decade to perfect, he had spent countless hours working on it with his Cousin. The barrier could be locked to one room and only lasted as long as the creator was present. It was supposed to keep out any magic users that didn't possess the Dellamorte bloodline. Clearly it was faulty if Rook had gotten through. He'd have to ask Illario about that when he next saw him.

"I am not entirely sure." Lucanis takes in the way her eyes waver, she doesn't seem annoyed that the spell had managed to stuff her magic but curious, perhaps slightly hopeful? "I do not use many spells, my specialities lie more in weapons and potions. My cousin helped with this one, you might have seen him around.”

She can see that from the display on his desk to the objects that fill his room and line the shelves, a few swords hanging on rusty nails that stick out of the stone.

"Ah, the handsome one." Rook recalls, as he shoots her an unamused look. "So could you, create a spell or a potion to stop it?"

"Why would you want to stop it?" He queries watching the way her hand goes to a chain around her neck, the small opaque crystal attached to it resting just between her breasts, Lucanis moves his eyes away quickly. His gaze goes back to her face then to the wall behind her as he avoids her eye contact.

He had seen the necklace before but had never gotten a good view of it, in fact he could not recall a time he seen her without it. No bigger than a marble, the edges jagged but dull enough to not cut into her skin. Whatever it was it meant something to her. Another piece of the puzzle.

"I mean, to help control it. Like the way your daggers seem to hold power, I can't have another mission go sideways because of me." A half truth.

He does not have to look her in the eyes to know that's not exactly what she meant.

"Perhaps you should ask Emmrich about that kind of stuff, maybe he could make you some sort of object to hone your energy."

In his time here Lucanis had seen the man do incredible things with his gifts, he had even come to him for help occasionally to identify any objects found whilst out on missions.

"I don't think that would work." Her lips pull into a grimace as she continues to fiddle with the silver chain. "And besides i'm not really sure how to feel about the old man, he frightens me a bit." Rook was both equal parts unsettled and intrigued by the man and his skeletal companion.

Lucanis raises an eyebrow but lets her talk.

"Don't tell him I said that though, you two are friends right?"

She recalls the few times she had watched Lucanis enjoying himself over dinner and drinks, in the library studying whatever it was he was searching for. Out of everyone here the two men seemed to click, both quiet and strange in their own way.

"I do not know him that well." Lucanis does not have friends. He is here to complete his contract and keep his home safe, that’s all.

Misunderstanding his blunt reply as sarcasm, Rook laughs. It's muffled by a hand over her mouth.

His chest tightens, wondering what it would sound like to hear a full true laugh from her. He wanted to find out. There was no question that Rook was attractive. Her elven features mixed the human way she spoke and carried herself made most people find her off putting. She tried to make herself invisible, had spent her first weeks at the Lighthouse brushing off everyone's attempts of inclusion but Lucanis had seen the way she made their companions laugh without even trying, the way her smile lit up a room. She didn't even have to try, he couldn't stand it.

Had the room always felt this small? Of course it had he was sleeping in a dammed storage closet for gods sake.

The desire that coiled low in his stomach was not as easy to ignore now as it was when he'd first laid eyes on her. All it takes is one moment of wanting and a mirror image of Lucanis draped in shadows manifests through the table. The creature contorts and twits its body, limbs cracking into place until it's crouched beside Rook. Lucanis closes his eyes reaching deep inside to sever that tie between man and demon but it's already started to knot. The door a-jar.

Lucanis grits his teeth as Spite inspects her, but the more he tries to shut him out the more the demon takes form. His discomfort and Rook's distraction only seems to make Spite more excited as it moves from side to side head twisting like a starved animal about to feast.

I can see why you're so fascinated by her. Such a pretty little thing.

Spites hand is less than an inch away from caressing Rook's cheek, hand going, lower, lower, until it comes to rest just below where Lucanis can't see under the table. Lucanis lets out a disgruntled cough, clearing his throat then scoots his crate back from table.

Spite's eyes snap up at him, and it lets out a laugh the look of hunger fading into a feline grin.

Leave us. Do. Not. Touch her.

You can't make me.

If you're going to stay, be quiet and behave.

Spite lets out a whine and glares back at him but obeys hands up in surrender as those glowing eyes ablaze. Some days Lucanis could push him out if he really tried. It would take all his strength and then some but each day was different. Recently the active days seemed to be outweighing the quiet ones. It had taken him years to train his mind against the demon, to build up walls and keep the doors locked. But no matter how badly Lucanis wanted him gone he would always let Spite back in.

There was no one without the other, they depended on each-other for survival. He had wasted almost his entire life trying to find a cure for this curse placed upon him and had come to accept the grim fact that if he wanted to live, Spite would be along for the ride.

Fine, fine. She's all yours. I won't touch her...unless she asks us to.

Lucanis stands to his full height kicking back the crate, he moves through the shadow demon purposefully causing the the smoke to separate. As Spite's form reconstructs itself it watches him as he places two china cups onto the table, both different sizes and designs. Rook lets out a small yawn as she waits, utterly unaware of the domestic currently playing out between the demon and the man as she watches Lucanis. There's a clattering of boxes being moved and rearranged then he lights a flame under what appears to be some sort of homemade stove. After a few minutes he returns with a steaming pot and the smell of coffee fills the small room.

Rook holds out her cup for him as he pours out the dark brown liquid until it reaches the top then fills his own. Now that he's closer she can see the black power under his nails, a cluster of tiny white scars standing out in contrast against his tan skin. She wants to ask about the experiment he was doing when she had interrupted him earlier or pry more about her magic but it's late and she's exhausted. Shes beginning to ajust to the dim candle light, the subtle warmth the flames gave off as the occasional gust of cold air moved past her and the presence of the man sitting opposite her.

Sure, it was a bit awkward and she wasn't sure if he was utterly repulsed by her or just had invited her out of civility but Rook had been searching for a distraction from her restless sleep and she had found one. They didn't need to speak, to fill the silence, just being in each others presence was enough. Maybe it was the adrenaline wearing off that had made her feelings intangible but could swear she felt a strange sort of comfort when she was with him.

Instead of voicing the million questions she yearned to have answered Rook leans back in her seat against the worn velvet and lets the cup warm her hands as raises the it in a thanks then takes a sip. It's bitter and warm, not hot enough to burn but the taste leaves an unwelcome flavour on her tongue. The disgusted expression on her face forms because she can stop it. Lucanis is waiting for her reaction.

"What? No milk or sugar?" Rook's voice sounds strained as she gulps down the liquid mid sentence forcing herself to take another sip.

She'd had coffee before, at the training camp it was valued as much as gold. But that had been a watered down version, reheated and shared between large groups, whatever Lucanis had was strong and fresh. Perhaps this was another thing she'd have to adjust to.

The corner of Lucanis's mouth raises, those full lips forming an almost smile as he watches her drink before trying his own.

"I like it black." He states before refilling his cup.

Rook hides another nervous laugh and gives him in a look that says of course you do. She would not make a very good spy he thinks.

She coughs as she reaches the bottom of the cup wiping a hand over her mouth before placing it down and pushing it slightly away from her. A fake smile of gratitude plastered across her face.

"Thanks for the coffee, and the company."

Lucanis's doesn’t seem to register the comment, his gaze entirely focused on the spot just behind where she sits, eyes occasionally flicking to check that she hadn't moved then back again to not so empty space. The humming song starts again.

There an obviously tension between Rook and Lucanis but neither of them quite wants the moment to end. Lucanis had never been very good at making friends, hell, he struggled enough as it was to keep loose acquaintances. But since he would be staying here for the foreseeable future he might as well try to be civil with her. He couldn't leave now, not when he was so close to finding a cure, not when he and his cousin had a chance at freedom, not when this girl was before him could be the key to everything. Regardless of his intentions Rook had played a part in his rescue and he would be indebted to her until the contract was completed.

I think she's starting you like you. Thats a first, should we tell her what we really are?

I thought you were staying quiet.

How can I when I can hear all your thoughts. I wonder what she would say if you told her what you want to do to her-

Spite seems to forget what it was saying as the creature stops mid taunt, turning in a circle sniffing the air its hollow eyes turn from Lucanis to Rook and back again.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

Lucanis's temple is throbbing as he rubs the palm of his hand against it trying to mask the feeling with more questions. If he could keep her talking for long enough maybe he could gain back enough control for Spite to leave them.

"When you have these nightmares, what do you see. Tell me about them."

Straight to the point then. Rook thinks, it would be easy for her to lie about it but she has nothing to lose.

"You want me to help you or not?" Lucanis barks out when Rook doesn't immediately answer. He doesn't mean for his tone to come out like that, cruel and disingenuous. Every step he makes towards Rook feels like another two back into the dark.

"Sorry-" She starts only to be cut off by his raised hand.

"Stop apologising." He shuts her down. "Just start from the beginning, anything you can remember might help us to better understand your...situation. When did they start."

She should be sorry, she was a Mage who had killed tens, if not hundreds of innocent people. Even if she had been following orders, even if it had been an accident, she had killed, no man would ever mourn one less Mage in the world.

You have more blood on your hands than she does.

I take no pleasure in killing, unlike you.

It’s impolite to lie Lucanis. I know you get off on it as much as I do. Oh look you've made her cry…

Spites observation panics him for a moment but when he looks at her there's no tears present. The only evidence of sadness is a fait sheen to her pale eyes, that haunted look he had seen before in the mirror on his own face. Greif.

As Rook recalls her nightmares and the memories that interlinked them she wished, not for the first time that they had left her to die in that rubble. How was it fair that the gods got to pick and choose who gets the power of creation, of life and who gets that of death and destruction. How she longed to be able to bring her friends back from the dead, reach down upon the earth and feel the roots grow.

"I think they must have started when I was a child but I could never remember anything, only waking up to find myself screaming. The night after the first time my magic manifested there was a thunderstorm, I started dreaming about this woman, I can't recall her face but it was like she was glowing in green flame."

Lucanis's focus is wavering as he tries to hang onto each of her words, something about green flames, a wolf, the sound of thunder, demons and the veil. His time is running out. The pain was behind his eyes now, vision blurring as he blinked over and over trying to shut it out.

"Lucanis." Rooks voice brings him back for a moment. "Are you alright?"

Smells like blood.

Get out of my head.

Can't you smell it? Let us taste her, just this once.

I said, GET OUT.

But Spite was right. The metallic tang in the air was undeniable, he could smell it. A shudder of dread snapped him back into reality. He was looking at her how, really looking. Had Rook always looked this pale? Her eyes were hollow, sunken in slightly and ringed with grey. Her lips parted as she paused mid sentence.

"You are bleeding." Lucanis's voice startles her as she has a moment of confusion before the realisation sets in.

She shifts the seat back a few inches looking down at herself before placing her hand to where the black shirt was sticking to her side. When she brings it away her palm is covered with a fresh coating of blood. Her mouth forms a silent 'oh' as she places her hand back against the wet shirt and holds it in place.

Before Lucanis can stop her she stands up swaying slightly using her free hand to steady herself against the table as he rushes to her side, the crate he was sat on lets out a screech against the stone as he flys across the room towards her.

Told you I smelled blood.

"LEAVE US." He doesn't mean for those words to be voiced aloud. Lucanis's voice comes out through gritted teeth, if Rook notices him speaking to the air she doesn't react - too focused on trying not to pass out.

It's not the blood that makes Lucanis feel like he's going to throw up but what comes after. This is how Spite feeds, the demon can't touch her in its usual state but pain, death and bloodshed calls to it the way a holy man might call upon the gods. When in battle the bond between Spite and Lucanis is forged from violence, all it takes is for the first kill to commence and then two become one. Most days the demon can do little more than cause him headaches with taunts and mind games but in battle Spite can take over fully possessing him and using Lucanis's body as a vessel for violence.

He wasn't sure if Rook's injuries would be enough to let Spite in all the way there was no rule book for this kind of thing but he didn't dare send her away. Not when she was in so much pain, not when seeing her in pain caused him so much.

With one arm under hers and the one carefully hooked around her waist so not to touch the wound he guides her to the table and holds up her weight against his own until her legs secure against it, the table is low enough that when he pushes her back slightly she's able to sit on it without much strain.

"Keep pressure on the wound." He leaves her for just a moment hurrying across the room and pouring out something that look like water onto his hands then wiping them clean on his sheets.

Lucanis was not healer but had learnt survival young and patched himself up after many a battle. He had been nine the first time he'd had to fix a dislocated bone, thirteen when he learnt how to stitch his own wounds.

Rook winces as she feels the throbbing pain grow, her skin heating as sweat begins to coat her skin. She has no idea how long it’s been bleeding or when the stitches had ripped. It was as if until she saw the blood there had been no pain and now it felt like she had an arrow in her side all over again.

When Lucanis returns he's holding a pile of clean cloth and a bottle of clear liquid. "I'll need to redress the wound and clean it."

Rook continues to look down at her side fingers now slick with her own blood she acknowledges him with a faint noise that he can’t make out.

"I need you to look at me. I don't think Varric will forgive me if I let you bleed out on my table." That earns a pained laugh. "This is going hurt." He adds.

"Okay." She nods again this time meeting his eye as Lucanis hand holds her chin to look at him. Defiance lives in her eyes but she agrees to let him help her, this is a woman who does not want to be pitied or saved. He knows exactly how that feels.

Lucanis lets her go and pushes his sleeves up further until the material can't go any higher up his biceps. With little effort he rips the cloth into strips and places it onto the table beside her along with the bottle. Slowly, cautiously, he stands infront of her assessing the situation. Rook moves her body slightly so that she's turned half to the side giving him better actress to her and her hand beings to pull up the bottom of her shirt.

"Do you want me to stop, it's not too late. I can wake one of the others-"

"No it's fine." Rook cuts him off. "It really doesn't hurt that much." Her face says otherwise.

It would be easier for him to remove her top completely but the thin material leaves little to imagination, it's clear Rook wears nothing underneath. Instead Lucanis pulls a dagger from his belt and cuts away at the ruined fabric leaving only enough to cover her. The bulk of the bandages are almost completely soaked through. As he unbinds them from her ribs and throws them onto a pile on the floor Rook swears when the wound is exposed to the cold air.

We could have her right now, on this table.

"It's not as bad as I thought, but you're to need to sit still for the next part. Drink this." He holds the bottle up to her lips and lifts it so she can drink, one hand underneath to catch anything that spills.

Rook splutters and coughs as it burns the back of her throat but takes a few gulps as Lucanis lets out a loose a breath.

With the old bandages removed and blood wiped clean he can now see only three out of the eight stitches had torn open, and other than the irritated red skin around the wound there’s no sign of infection.

"That was fucking disgusting. Do me a favour and just keep talking. If I don't pass out from this, I might die if you serve me anymore beverages." Rook states, eyes closed as she lets out a low whimper whilst Lucanis begins to wipe away the blood. “And if I die.” As grits her teeth. “I will come back and fucking haunt you.”

Such dirty words for such a pretty mouth.

Don’t look at her.

Imagine the sweet sounds she would make.

"I'm not very good at talking." Lucanis confesses, undeterred by her empty threats.

He doubts very much that she would want to hear about how he'd spent almost his entire childhood being experimented on in a cage by the only maternal figure he'd never known.

"Oh i've noticed." Her eyes are wide and alert now, pupils dilating. "Seriously say anything, sing a song tell me a story, make something up. Tell me about possessed life, I bet he's here isn't he, the demon, is he here? Is he a he?"

Rook might not have been thinking clearly to start but now she’s racking her brain for everything she learnt about this man so far. Not only was she about to let an almost stranger - at best coworker, operate on her in a storage cupboard she was about to let a man possessed by a demon to do it. Other than overhearing Neve refer to the demon as 'Spite' once she had no idea if that was its name or what it even was.

Did demons even have pronouns?

"It's here, it likes the blood." If Lucanis was trying to comfort her he was failing miserably.

From the corner of his eye Lucanis can see spite crouching beneath the table, its slightly see through finger poking at the small pool of blood on the ground. Despite the finger going through the blood and stone floor Spite puts it into its mouth and pretends to lick the finger clean.

Delicious.

"Great, well there's plenty of that here. Sounds like a charming guy." Rook lets her head fall back and stares up at the ceiling as she waits for Lucanis to fishing threading the needle.

Lucanis bites down on his bottom lip as he finishes threading the needle then sterilises the wound with what smells like alcohol. He dabs at the blood with no warning and she clutches back as it stings sending shivers down her spine that make her want to kick him.

"What does it feel like?" She asks the corners of her eyes glistening but again, no tears fall.

"At first I thought my soul had been split in half. But now, it’s more like having two sets of hands instead of one, eyes in the back of my head. The power is…unimaginable."

He pulls her skin together holding the flesh with a forefinger and thumb as the needle pushes through for the first stitch. Over rooks deep breathing he swears the faint sound of thunder booms overhead.

"I have heard sories of demons that can possess men. The Grey Wardens knew a lot about dark magic. How did you come to be this way? I mean what happened to you. You weren't born like this, were you?" Rook seems to be sitting straighter now, the tonic kicking in and numbing some of the pain.

"That-Is none of your concern."

"Does it hurt?" Rook knows she should probably change subjects from the strain in his voice but when she looks up at him the answer is written all over his face.

"Yes and no." The look of agony is gone in seconds and he's back to concentrating on her wound.

His hair despite being tied back falls over his shoulder as is long enough that she feels it brush against her bare skin. She can feel his warm breath against her torso and the occasional faint tickle of his beard as he gets too close.

"Does it hurt right now?" Rook wonders looking around the room as if she would find a demon spawn hiding in the shadows, but she sees nothing.

"You don't have to worry about me. You are the one bleeding."

The second stitch is though.

"I'm bleeding all over your bedroom and you won't even tell me how you got possessed by a creepy demon, wow." Rook tries to make an exaggerated gasping sound but it's cut short as the third stitch goes though and the wind is knocked out of her. "Fucking ouch."

"You are very dramatic." He was glad she couldn't see his faint smile as he continued to work.

This was good, if she’s was coherent enough to make jokes and swear at him hopefully she wouldn’t pass out anytime soon. Lucanis makes a mental note that Rook often uses humour as cover when she's hurt.

The pain has faded to a dull ache now, Rooks body already starting to feel a bit stronger with each passing moment but her mind is still hazy. She’s trying to stay awake but all she can think about was how wants him to never stop talking. Each word keeps her tethered to this plane. That accent, she could listen to it forever.

“We are almost done.” Lucanis moves closer to her - his large body is almost completely covering hers as he leans so that he can tie the bandages around her back. He stops half way realising he can't quite reach it without the possibility of hurting her. Rook feels his hand lightly touching her shoulder indicating which way she needs to move as she swings her legs back round to give him better access.

Now Rook sits on the other side as he leans over, legs hanging over the table, back facing him. He doesn't mean to stare when he looks down at her exposed back but there's no helping it as his eyes travel from the bottom of her spine to the top of her half ripped shirt and the array of scars that covered almost every inch of skin in between. Some more faded than others, the freshest couldn't have been more than a year old. Each one thin and precise line, this had been no accident, she had either been forced to take a beating or let someone do this to her.

"Arms up." He instructs as she strains lift them with little protest but manages to keep them held in place long enough for him to loop the cloth around.

He begins to tie the fresh bandages around her, one hand laying flat across her ribs to keep them in place. The rough contrast of the tips his fingers brush against the exposed skin above her bandages. Once he's sure the bandages are tight enough he feels himself moving without thinking. Rook doesn't react as a finger traced the outline of a particularly deep bit of scar tissue that falls almost directly in the centre of her spine.

He had seen this kind of torture before, often inflicted on disobedient soldiers or deserters. It was possible to get rid of most scars and wounds with certain kinds of magic, for cosmic or personal reasons he had seen it done more than once. But some were not as easy to remove as others and perhaps she had chosen to keep them as a reminder for what had been done to her. He shouldn’t care, it was none of his business.

He could feel the demonic energy that ran in his veins drumming under his skin as he flexed his hand by his side. He was only human-ish after all.

Who did this to you? He wondered. I will make them beg for my blade. He should have no right to care. He had done that and worse to his own enemies, what made seeing it on her so different? Spite who had had been suspiciously dormant the entire time Rook had her wounds tended to was now flicking in and out of existence behind her. The demon Rook from its crouch by her side and for once the demon had nothing to say.

They were both thinking the same thing.

"These are not from battle." Lucanis states as he pulls the cut up edge of the shirt back down to cover what he can see of her side.

"No, they are not." Rook answers as she moves off the table to stand. Her cheeks have more colour to them now he notices as she refuses his help when she steadies herself. "Thank you, I think i've ruined your night enough. I should get going now."

Lucanis accepts her thanks with a nod not sure what to do now. He wants to ask her to stay. Only so he can keep an eye on her incase the wound gets worse of course. He couldn't exactly offer up his bed, a girl like her deserved to sleep on beds of silks and feathered mattresses.

In his first week at the Lighthouse he had been given a large room in the north wing with a plush four poster bed and a dozen pillows. It had felt like he was suffocating in the comfort of that bed, he had tried removing all the bedding on the second night. Placing the mattress on the floor on the third then welcoming the cool stone against his bare back on the fourth. None of it had worked. He felt like a dog without the comfort of its cage. It had been years since he'd slept on anything more comfortable than a couple of crates pushed together with a blanket over the top. Not that he slept much as it was.

As Lucanis begins to put away his things he can feel eyes on him as Rook stands as if she's waiting for him to say something. "Right, of course." Lucanis clears his throat then grabs something off his bed and passes it to her. "Get some rest if you can, i'm no healer so you should probably get somebody to look at that in the morning if you can."

Rook takes the shirt from him and begins to pull her old ruined one over her head with one hand as Lucanis turns to give her some privacy. He can feel his blood heating as the awareness that she’s half naked in his room sinks in. She places the discarded top on the pile of bloody cloth and bandages and cringes as she takes in the mess around the room. Dried blood on the floor, glass on the table, the door hanging on its hingers. After today she didn't think she would ever be able to face him again.

His cream collared shirt reaches her mid thigh, the size of it looking ridiculous on her. She was shorter than the average elf and even though Lucanis was tall for a human he only had a few inches on her but his build had made the shirt seem least thrice her normal size. When she finishes dressing Lucanis is still facing away from her - arms resting against the table as he tried not to think about what Rook might look like in his shirt. He can hear Spites perverted thoughts begin to pile up in his mind making him want to flip the table and its contents scores the room. Instead he re arranging his work and places the books back onto the table as he finishes cleaning off any trace of blood, any trace of her.

"Goodnight, Rook." Lucanis mumbles.

The way he says it sounds like goodbye. So this was it then.

"Goodnight."

Rook waits a few more seconds to see if he will turn back and then, she’s gone.

end chapter notes -

everyday i learn something new about his family and backstory (thanks twitter)

this chapter was only meant to be 3k long but i ended up writing about 6k and cutting it down a bit, their dynamic is so fun to write. anyone has information, head canons or theories about him pls share id love to hear them!

do we hate grandma or not? (i think we do)

as always @/saintscain on twitter, hope you enjoyed

[anjelicawrites]

We’ve had so much fun torturing Maid!Aegon! What is his reward when he’s the best boy in the world and finally manages to clean everything without cumming???? How proud of himself is he while he’s writhing about getting praised and finally getting to cum????

-🪴

Sweet little thing that he is. He deserves a reward, doesn't he?

NSFW and 18 + only please!

He's torn between being proud and feeling so horny it almost hurts to think: his cock is so hard, his stones so heavy and full he's afraid the wrong movement will make him explode.

The gentle strokes on his burning skin double the need he has for you and the pleasure you promised him.

His body lays splayed on the bed, naked and covered in the marks you had left every single time he's been bad and needed punishment. He writhes when your lips kiss each and every proof of your love for him, he's impatient to come all over himself or, if you deem him worthy, inside of you.

He doesn't beg, tries to reign in his emotions the best he can: it has been so long since you've granted him permission to come he's ready to jump out of his skin.

He moans and arches when your tongue starts licking his bulbous head, your strokes slow around the tip. The pleasure he feels blanks his mind for a second, the whiplash tenses his muscles to the point of pain and he tries to tell you he can't control himself any longer! He's going to come soon!

He explodes all over your face when you tell him he can orgasm as many times as he likes, that you're here for his pleasure; you lick his seed and kiss him, feeling his still hard cock under your body.

"Please..." He begs, puppy dog eyes on yours. "I'm still... I can't..."

Words die on his lips: he's never felt like this before, like his body is ready to go for hours.

"Don't be scared, sweet boy. You're so good for me, always ready." You kiss his trembling lips, red and bitten raw. "I am here for your pleasure. I missed riding you until you come inside of me."

Aegon doesn't know if it's your warm body or the need in tone of your voice, he comes untouched, hot seed splashing all over his soft belly.

Before he can say he's sorry, you tell him he's your good boy and that you can't wait for his seed to fill you to the brim.

You ride him for hours, slow and deep, feeling his large head push against your G spot. You keep showering him with praises and love every single time he comes inside of you, you let him suck on your breasts as you slowly roll your hips on his still hard cock.

He's so drunk on pleasure and love that he doesn't even realise he's slipped into subspace, all he knows is that his body is for you to use for your own pleasure, as it should be.

Far away he feels the ripples of your tight cunt whenever you come around him, his body shakes under yours, too overstimulated to truly function.

"One last time, my good boy."

He croaks a rough sound of pleasure when you clamp around his raw cock and lie on him, your soft breasts cushioned against his chest.

Pliantly he lets you linked hands stretch his arms over his head as your hips roll faster and faster to catch your own orgasm, his cock thick and coated in your mixed comes is so delicious against your battered walls.

"Now! Now!"

You scream, coming so hard you barely pass out on Aegon, whose body follows your orders blindly, his stones unloading his seed until he can't give you anymore.

You hold him tight against your chest, feeling his heart beating such a mad tattoo you're scared he's going to faint, instead his big, lilac eyes find yours and you know he's coming back to himself, following the path laid by your voice in his ears.

You kiss his forehead and nose until he's capable of speech, smiling at his request.

"Yes, you can slip back into me and fall asleep like this. You've been so good for me, you deserve the world."

He's so happy you see the tears almost falling from his eyes.

"Will I be back into chastity tomorrow?"

"Only if you want to."

"If I don't want to, will you let me make love to you again?"

His cheeks are apple red. You have to stop yourself from pinching them until he squirms.

"Perhaps. It will depend on how good you're going to be for me."

You smile when you feel his spent cock twitch inside your cunt. Maybe, just maybe, you'll let him ride you until he begs to stop, that's too much. If he's exceptionally good, you might even listen to his plea and not overstimulate him until he begs to be in chastity again.

As much as you love tormenting him, you live to make him feel adored and appreciated; sometimes that means taking his pleasure from him, other times you can only achieve this goal by giving in to his pleas. Only tomorrow will show you the right way.

[greeneyed-thestral]

[longagoitwastuesday]

I have learnt things about Geto that I wish I could unlearn

[softquietsteadylove]

Here is an idea.

For the human AU a new deviant appears. But it’s not that kind of deviant we know. It has some special abilities and Gil is in danger. How about some horror for this one? 👀

"Gil!"

His head whipped around. He was helping clean up some of the ruins of the outer city, since that was all he was good for, now. The moon was high, providing a good amount of light.

The others were reluctant to let him outside Babylon temple--they were reluctant to let him do anything. He had to all but sneak out to even do this much, especially without worrying Thena.

"Gilgamesh!"

That was definitely her voice, though. Gil dropped the rocks he was moving and looked around again. He couldn't sense anything, but his senses were diminished at the moment. He tried to listen for the slightest sound, but he couldn't pick up anything.

He cursed his human condition, not for the first time.

"Gil, help me!"

That was definitely Thena screaming. It was her voice, at least. Gilgamesh started walking, looking around the corners of crumbled homes and around the deep shadows of the rubble. His cautious steps turned to a light jog.

"Gil, please!"

"Thena?" he called out, but he swore it was just the open air to hear him. What was happening? He jogged closer to the edges of the walls. The wall was still technically under construction, Phastos working as fast as he could. But Gil was the main source of their work efforts, and Babylon wall was huge.

"Gil?" it sounded like a whisper, now. But it was still her voice, thin and high, as if she had been crying. He had never really heard her like that before. But it was his Thena. It was her voice.

"Thena," he repeated, whispering for her as he crept around in the dark. "Thena, if you-"

"Gilgamesh," the voice changed. This sounded less like her. He knew it was off.

He froze. He didn't have Eternal strength or senses anymore, but humans had the best survival instinct. His was screaming. Something wasn't right. It wasn't before and it really wasn't now. He crouched lower, looking around but slowing his breathing as much as he could. His heart was pounding.

"Gilgamesh, help me," the voice cooed, but it was closer. He could better hear what was wrong with it--the wiry echo trailing after it. It sounded almost mechanical, like the grind of Phastos' gears.

Gil lowered to one knee, trying to peek around one of the corners of a building's remains. He hadn't heard it at all, but he saw the massive foot come down. It was wiry, thickly muscled, a terrible colour.

"Gil, help!" it repeated, in the same tone and intonation as last time. It could only conjure so much.

He held his breath, and when he did need to breathe, he pressed his palm over his mouth and nose. This was like the one that had rendered him all but human. They were evolving, and not just new appendages or wings or even that gas. This one was luring them into a trap.

"Gilgamesh, help me!" it repeated, louder this time. It prowled around the house. It was assuring that these things still had some weaknesses to account for.

He watched as the thing rounded the corner. Its head looked like it was a bare skull in comparison to the rest of its body. Perhaps it didn't have a sense of smell, and that was why it was depending on using the sounds it was producing to lure its prey.

Its horrible maw opened again, its paws hitting the ground. "Gil, please."

He didn't like that it could make it sound so convincing. It really sounded like Thena--it sounded like her voice crying for him. How would this walking nightmare know what that sounded like? And how did it know exactly whose voice to use to lure him out here?

"Gil," the beast repeated in his sweet Thena's voice. Its teeth clicked against themselves as its jaw swayed back and forth on its head. "Gilgamesh, please."

He could hear it now. The way it chopped up the words, not sounding totally fluid. But he had to get this close to hear that? If he weren't careful, he would already be fighting this thing.

And that wasn't an option for him now. He was in no condition to fight a Deviant, let alone an evolved one. And it had lured him out here, in the dark, alone.

Fear: humans felt fear. They had incredible instincts for self-preservation, protection, survival. But every cell in his body - whatever body it was - was feeling fear. And he had never felt fear quite like this.

He could die out here.

The Deviant drew closer to him. It repeated the sounds of Thena's distress, switching to screams of terror and agony. What a terrible monster these things could be. They really were here for a reason; humans couldn't fight these things.

He couldn't fight this thing. He couldn't fight at all, anymore. Pure instinct had brought him out here--a need to protect Thena. But she was the one protecting him. She was the Fighter of them now.

He had never had to consider life without Thena. She probably hadn't considered it either. Would he be leaving her alone if he died out here? What if she fought this thing? Would it use his voice to lure her out alone like it did with him?

She could fight it. She was stronger than this thing. He was still glad that it wasn't her that had been turned human. He hated being this vulnerable--this useless. But he hated the thought of it being Thena even more.

"Gilgamesh," that thing whispered. It was right on top of him.

He breathed into his palm. He couldn't control his heart, he couldn't control his lungs. His body was crumbling under the pressure. Thousands of years of fighting and it was lost on the human adrenal system. He squeezed his eyes shut.

Maybe he could manage to see Thena one last time before he died.

"Gil!"

That time sounded different. He kept his eyes shut, although he heard footsteps somewhere in the distance. Then, nothing, then, impact.

"Run!" Thena landed with force, cratering the ground between the Deviant and him. She already had her swords ready, slashing at the thing.

It roared at her, first with her own voice, then its usual, beastly cry.

Thena stood her ground, swinging her staff around, keeping her back to him and her arms raised. "Are you hurt?"

His stomach lurched. She had come running to his aid, just like any weak, defenseless human. "N-No."

The Deviant swiped at her but she raised her shield, swiping at it in return. These evolved ones were smart, guarded, it knew she was a threat, and it wasn't pursuing her needlessly. It was watching her.

He couldn't see her face, but he saw her body locking up.

The Deviant opened its mouth again. "Thena!"

"What in all the stars?" she asked rhetorically.

"That was how it got me down here," he admitted. The thing's jaw clicked and its teeth rattled around again.

"Thena, help!"

"Celestial demons," she cursed it as she shifted her spear into a different shape. She directed the point at it, tri-tipped and wide. It was a weapon not for slicing but for inflicting an irreparable wound. The great warriors of Greece copied this very weapon. "Try it."

The beast chose not to. It gave her another half-swipe, only for show before retreating. Its long, wiry body slithered away from them and through the crumbling cracks in the wall.

Gil let out a breath as its form disappeared into the shadows. He dragged himself up the wall behind him and to his feet, not liking the state of his knees. "We gotta get that fixed."

Thena didn't say anything.

He frowned, fidgeting with his sweaty palms. "You okay?"

"You shouldn't have been out here."

He was tempted to wince at the cold tone of her voice. She was right, he shouldn't have let that thing lure him away, especially knowing he was in no condition to fight.

"What were you thinking?" she asked him. It was worse than her yelling and shouting at him, her voice was barely above a whisper. She turned to him, her powers fading into the air like sparks. Her hair picked up in the wind. "What were you thinking, Gilgamesh?"

He was feeling properly chastised now. "I-I just..."

She waited for him to finish rather than prompt him.

He sighed. "It was your voice, Thena. You were calling for my help."

She didn't argue. She didn't chastise him further, she accepted his answer. She even moved closer, wrapping her arms around him. Her cheek was cold against his warmer one. "Don't ever scare me like this again."

"Sorry," he patted her shoulder before moving his hand to the cutout of her armour that allowed him the relief of her soft waist.

She huffed at him, but her hold on him didn't loosen. "I'll have more to say about this later."

"Yes, ma'am," he chuckled despite her anger. He let out another breath, relaxing his body more. His limbs felt heavy as Thena began leading him back to the temple.

She gave him a nudge, "I should tell Sersi about this--she'll be livid."

He laughed, giving her a nudge in return.

She stumbled.

They both stared. He blinked, looking at the hand he used to nudge her arm. "Uh, s-sorry."

Thena just stared, at the hand and then at him. She had been expecting a gentle nudge--a human one. He had given her a push that an Eternal would give.

He blinked, surprised by first her kiss and then by her laughter. He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off her feet. It was easy, but it wasn't that easy--whatever it was had been a freak accident. But it was a promising sign.

[hollowbait]

i thought of this and was shocked at my own evil, so fair warning.

ichigo has been in love with kisuke for as long as he can remember. what he doesn't know is kisuke and yoruichi have been in love with each other for even longer, unable to be together due to the differences in their status.

when ichigo confesses to kisuke, kisuke doesn't have the heart to reject him. ichigo deserves some happiness. so he just ... fakes it. pretends he loves ichigo in that way.

he has good intentions. he tells yoruichi that they have to part ways for good, and she agrees.

he and ichigo date and eventually move in together. they work well together. kisuke isn't in love with ichigo, but he finds that he likes him — sometimes more than he likes yoruichi. there's less baggage and history. less cruel words said in anger.

ichigo is lovely. he cooks for them and always makes sure kisuke has tea when he's in the labs for too long. he doesn't complain when random parts of experiments end up in their bedroom. in return, kisuke gives him the relationship he deserves. never forgets a birthday or an anniversary. randomly gifts ichigo presents. kisses his forehead or the corner of his mouth as he passes by him in their home.

two years pass and kisuke realises that without him even realising, he's actually fallen in love with ichigo. that the hundred year ache in his chest for yoruichi has faded.

of course, that's when she shows up in his door while ichigo is visiting his sisters in todai, sobbing. thats when they raid their cupboards for sake and get too drunk. and all of a sudden they're kissing and getting naked and he knows he doesn't love her that way anymore, but her body is familiar to him, and it's so easy to fall back into it —

and meanwhile ichigo is about to enter the shoten, having taken an earlier train and wanting to surprise his partner with the cheesecake from tokyo that he loves so much.

[monty-glasses-roxy]

I've been thinking, what if after Ruin, Roxy is able to contact Cassie's dad to come get her from the old pizzeria somehow? Like they deal with Mimic and then they call her dad before heading back up to meet him?

Cassie immediately flinching as she realises she's accidentally said the same shit "Gregory" did. Bonus points if Cassie's dad was a surviving member of the initial group of construction workers that went down there and got killed. He just pauses mid-sentence and squints as the cogs turn in his head, around the same time both Cassie and Roxy realise what they're doing.

They both scramble to clarify they're not Mimic actually, this is one hundred percent real, they really are under the Raceway, they swear while he goes silent, not knowing what he should do here. Should he... call someone? Does this mean Mimic is out? That the security is down? Are they actually down there? Is he suppoosed to just... go there and find out if it's a killer robot or his daughter and a nice robot?

Like really, what is he meant to do here lmao the Minis with Roxy and Cassie just have their heads in their hands over this. They didn't think of it either, but also come on guys you should have realised

[themthistles]

rain scene in ep two really is the perfect representation of who dongsik is as a person and nam sangbae's words about dongsik helping others to make himself happy. he's holding an umbrella over that boy's head, looking at him jumping up and down and his smile is so bright and warm like he doesn't even notice that he's got no shoes on and that he's cold and wet. because the boy is safe and content and if he can keep him that way, if he can keep everyone that way, protect them from pain, sorrow and fear then maybe he can keep a tiny part of himself safe too. gain some peace and sanity in a world that is anything but that for him. for a little while he can leave his own head, see the world through their eyes, forget the horrors, escape his grief. he can't go back in time and save his past self so he saves those he can now.

his only way of interacting with the world is 'how can i help? what can i do?' but he really doesn't like when other people try to help him in return. especially when he thinks they have to sacrifice something to do it. he's annoyed with jeongje when he lies to give him an alibi. he's frustrated with jaeyi when she wants to involve herself in catching the killer. angry with juwon for trying to take the blame for him.

dongsik's attitude undergoes a huge shift first after jaeyi tells him 'i SHOULD get hurt. i want to get hurt if that's what it takes. why are you the only one making sacrifices?' and then after juwon tells him 'this is not on you. this is not your responsibility. i'll deal with it myself and i'll suffer the consequences however terrible they may be.' jaeyi tells him you're not crazy, just sad and lonely. juwon tells him you've had enough of that lonely sadness in your life. they tell him let us help so he does. gets whole team together to catch nam sanbae's killer. agrees to work together with juwon to take down han gihwan. tells jihwa about it. yeah juwon learns how to take the hand he's offered but so does dongsik. they learn that lesson together.

[neutronian]

unreal how many fictional-character-real-estate braincells edgar and hunter take up and have been taking up since i first came across them

[maykitz]

if you can stomach it i would recommend watching the body cam footage of the sonya massey killing, i'll try to describe it but it's hardly possible. you can't truly understand the type of extreme, completely volatile aggression that happens with cops if you haven't seen it, and it's captured here very harrowingly.

several officers are in her house, calmly talking with her about her id and vehicle papers for some time. it's routine administrative stuff, no acute danger or stress whatsoever. one of them tells her to take her pot off the stove, remarking that they don't need a fire in the house now, she walks over into the kitchen and complies. he suddenly backs off towards the front door despite already being several feet away. she asks him where he's going, he says "away from your hot, steaming water." she repeats "my hot, steamin' water?" in an amused tone. then adds "i rebuke you in the name of jesus," in a similar tone while pouring the water down the sink. the atmosphere is completely calm, you might even say amiable.

she's at this point still separated from the cops by her kitchen aisle and several feet of additional distance. the cop prompts her to repeat what she said, she repeats her reply about rebuking him in the name of jesus [edit: i didn't phrase this right in the original post; this phrase is not really a joke but rather used similarly to 'perish the thought'- ie rebuking his implication that she would harm them]. she doesn't even realise there's been a complete 180 in his head. he goes "you better fucking not, i will shoot you in your fucking face," she's stunned by the sudden abusive language for half a second, immediately he draws his gun directly at her head, she gets out a panicked "sorry!" and ducks behind the aisle, he rounds the corner into the kitchen specifically to advance right next to her, immediately fires 3 shots at her head from above at minimal distance. she's dead where she stood, or cowered rather, by the sink in her nightgown.

after a few seconds you hear the click of him turning on his body cam, saying "she came at me with a pot of boiling water." for the recording. he also nonchalantly tells his partner there's no need to get a med kit because it was a headshot. it's one of the most clear cut cases ever and it's fully recorded only because his partner did already have the body cam on throughout.

[loonylupinblack3]

Shy

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: swearing, suggestive content

Summary: you have a crush on a certain co-worker but are too shy to tell him. so someone does it for you.

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: THIS WAS A REQUEST BUT WHEN I TRIED TO REPLY TO IT IT DIDNT LET ME AND DELETED IT INSTEAD (also jean is a meddling little shit in this and u just gotta accept that)

You watched him from across the hall greedily, eyes drinking in his panting form, the sweat coating his chest and back, the strained muscles underneath his wife beater tank top. Logan was a sight for sore eyes on a normal day, but when he was working out? He had you practically rabid for him.

You were sitting on one of the benches, a forgotten book in your hand you hadn’t glanced at in ages, preferring to treat yourself to the image of Logan Howlett hot and sweaty while working out. There were a few other X-men exercising alongside him, and others on the bench with you hanging out so you weren’t too out of place, but everyone could see the way you looked at Logan.

Everyone but Logan himself.

You’d joined the team a few months ago- 5 to be exact- after whispers had gotten to you of a safe space for mutants. Having hidden your true genetic code from everyone else in your life, you jumped at the chance of not having to hide anymore. With your unique skill set too- the ability to formulate and present illusions- you were an exceptional addition to both the X-men and the teaching staff.

You thrived at the X mansion. The kids loved you, you got along well with your fellow teammates, and you had suggested and helped act on several improvements to both the school and the team. You were a good addition, and the other mutants were grateful to have you there.

You’d just had one problem when acclimating to the school. Your teeny, tiny, incredibly small crush on your fellow professor, Logan Howlett. At first you really had thought it would be no big deal. Just a co-worker you had noticed was slightly attractive. That’s all. Other mutants had told you he was hard to talk to, and had a gruff, moody personality, so you’d thought the attraction would soon fade.

Unfortunately it had only grown. The first time you’d realised, shit, this might actually be a problem, was when you’d gone to get a glass of water in the middle of the night and found Logan leaning against the kitchen counter, shirtless, with a beer in hand.

You’d been so flustered, eyes continuously betraying you and straying to his chest that you’d blurted out the first thing that came to your head, “how’d you get beer in here?”

Logan had chuckled, observing you as he brought the beer bottle to his mouth for a sip. “Why? Want some Sweetheart?”

You’d felt heat rise to your face at the nickname, shaking your head. “No, I was just curious.”

Logan stared at you a second longer, eyes trailing your figure appreciatively before shrugging. “Your loss. And unfortunately I can't tell you how I got it. Gotta keep it a secret lest Xavier finds out.”

You were too flustered to argue so you’d just nodded, mumbled a quick goodbye, and quickly walked back to your bedroom. You hadn’t even gotten your glass of water. 

There had been other similar instances over the past few months. Logan just had a way to get under your skin, to cause your heart to go into cardiac arrest every time he looked at you, which made it hard to conceal your ever growing crush on him from literally everyone. Even your students knew about it, or at least had their suspicions, and you prayed they were too intimidated by Logan to ask him any questions about it. The last thing you needed was to get humiliated and have to pack up all your things and leave the home you had just created for yourself because you could no longer look any of your co-workers or students in the eyes again.

Especially Logan.

Things had escalated until you could barely look Logan in the eye anymore, and actively avoided him at all costs. The last thing you wanted to do was embarrass yourself in front of him, and though it was unpleasant you’d decided the best course of action was just to steer clear of him altogether.

Still, you allowed yourself some enjoyment, like watching Logan workout from afar while in a room full of people. The onlookers weren’t the best, but it was better than being alone with him when who knows what would happen.

“Like what you see?”

Storm’s voice dragged you out of your ogling, and you turned to her with a sheepish expression. “Maybe.”

She gave you a knowing look, raising her eyebrows. You ignored it, because you’d heard her suggestions many times before and found they didn’t align with your own interests.

“Go and tell him how you feel.”

And embarrass yourself when he inevitably rejects you? No thanks. You were more comfortable with keeping your feelings suppressed, continuously shoving them down, building a brick wall between them and you, to permanently keep them out. Yet for every single brick you added somewhere below you could feel three more being punched out, slowly destroying your barricades bit by bit. 

Your eyes strayed back to Logan, like they always did, yet surprise striked you when you couldn’t find him. Your eyes scanned the room like a man on a mission, only to realise too late Logan was heading towards you, a towel in his sweaty grip.

He greeted Storm with a nod before his gaze zeroed in on you, and you mentally added another brick to your shield, determined to keep him out this time. 

“Y/n,” he greeted, eyes never straying from your face.

You looked down, fidgeting with your hands. “Logan,” and, because you were incredibly weak willed- “did you have a good workout?”

You swear as you looked back up at him you saw the remnants of a smile on his face, but it was gone in the blink of an eye so you couldn’t be completely sure. You don’t think Logan had ever smiled at you, and you felt the bricks within you start to wobble.

“It was alright,” he said curtly, ever the man of few words. He lingered though, as if debating to say something, when it came out anyway. “I’d like it if you joined us next time.”

You felt your heartbeat increase. You felt the jump and the rapid incline as you processed what he said, your mind swimming.

“Me? But I just do illusions… I don’t have a fight worthy mutation.”

“Which is exactly why you should workout. Build your strength so you don’t need to rely on others and can trust your own body to do the job, regardless of mutations.”

It was the most you think Logan had ever spoken to you all at once, and you were suddenly feeling very dizzy. Logan wanted you to workout with him, to spend time with him. Could you imagine? Standing alongside him while he panted. Sparring and ending up underneath him, his entire body weight crushing you between him. It was almost too much to think about.

You cleared your throat, trying to clear your mind of unhelpful distractions, and found your eyes glued to Logan as he brought the towel to wipe the sweat from his throat, his muscles straining right in front you as he reached behind the back of his neck, wiping the sheen of sweat from his body.

You were staring, you knew that, but you just couldn’t find it in you to look away. It was a godly sight, Logan in front of you, sweaty and staring right at you. How were you supposed to look away?

“Uhm,” you mumbled when Storm stepped on your foot. If she’d noticed your ogling Logan certainly must have, and you felt heat rise to your face at the thought. “Yeah, maybe. I’ll think about it.”

Logan looked at you again, really looked at you, before nodding, slinging the towel over a shoulder. “I hope to see you there.”

And with that he walked away, and you felt the bricks tumbling, clattering away inside you, and you could do nothing to stop it until you felt bare and vulnerable, watching the man walk away with the realisation this might be more than just a silly crush.

You couldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t let yourself go too far, even though you could already feel yourself falling. You needed stronger defences, more barricades and walls. And if that meant more space between you and Logan, more avoiding and distance, well, you’d do it. You couldn’ let yourself go past the point of no return with him. You couldn’t.

Your avoidance of Logan had continued ten-fold. Whenever he entered a room you would exit. You would no longer spend time watching him workout or teach or do anything, really. You stayed as isolated from him as possible, and when you couldn’t you stayed silent, eyes fixed ahead of you rather than on him.

Others had noticed. You heard the rumours, whispers of a fight, a break up that occurred between the two of you. It was laughable, the idea that you and Logan had ever been together in the first place.

It was working though, or so you thought. You could feel your shields and barricades strengthening each day, and you continued to build them higher and higher, in the hopes you would eventually not need to avoid Logan, for he would no longer have any effect on you.

Until then you were determined to avoid Logan and spend as little time with him as possible. Unfortunately Logan did not share that sentiment.

You’d just finished up a class, instructing your students to have their homework prepared for next lesson and watched them all file out the door when Logan entered. It was so unexpected you hadn’t a chance to leave before he was upon you, his figure towering over your frame. His arms were crossed and he watched you with a frown on his face, yet you weren’t afraid of it anymore. Sure, you had been originally, but soon you’d discovered behind the frown was usually no ill intent, so you weren’t nervous.

Well you were, extremely so, but not about that.

“Oh, Logan,” you managed, swallowing thickly. “What are you doing here?”

Logan crossed his arms. “We need to talk.”

You winced. “We do?”

He let out an aggravated huff. “LIsten, I don’t know what I did to make you so pissed at me but it can’t be this bad-”

You interrupted him, confused. “Wait, what?”

He sent you a look. “You. Being mad at me. I don’t know why.”

“I’m not mad at you.”

Logan paused, looking at you with a scrutinising gaze. “Yes you are.”

You scoffed at him wrongly telling you how you felt. “No, I’m not.”

“So why are you ignoring me? And don’t say you haven't-” Logan said, noticing you’d opened your mouth to defend yourself. “I know you are. You have been avoiding me for weeks, and if you’re not angry at me I can see no other fathomable reason for why you’re acting like I have the plague.”

I frowned. “You noticed that?”

Logan scoffed. “Of course I noticed it. You don’t even come to training anymore, not even to watch like you used to. Why?”

You shifted uncomfortably on your feet. You obviously couldn’t tell him the real reason, otherwise all the hard work you’d done would be for nothing because you’d end up humiliated and rejected anyway, but you knew Logan could tell when someone was lying from their pulse spiking, and yours certainly would if you lied about this.

You grappled for something to say, anything, to shake him off your trail. “I have to prepare for another class-”

“You’re not preparing for shit until you tell me what’s wrong,” Logan practically growled. “I can stay here all day Bub.”

Well shit. You didn’t really have another choice. You were going to have to tell him about your feelings for him. Literally anything else would have been better. Anything else.

At that exact moment Jean walked into your classroom and relief bloomed in your chest. You were saved, you were safe. You could use Jean as an excuse and-

“She was avoiding you because she has the hots for you, Logan. Something every single person in this school knows except you.”

Well, not anything else apparently.

Logan let out a noise of surprise and looked at you, but your eyes were glued to Jean, horror and betrayal painted on your face. She mouthed ‘your welcome’ and left. What the fuck? Was that the only reason she entered, to butt into your private conversation?

“Y/n. Was what Jean said true?”

You opened your mouth and then closed it, looking like something akin to a gaping fish. “Define truth.”

Logan narrowed his eyes at you, not at all amused, and his silence forced you to continue.

You sighed, preparing yourself for the inevitable heartbreak to come. “Yes, it’s true, alright, but I never intended to act on it and I won’t act on it so you’re fine-”

“Who said I didn’t want you to act on it?”

You started. “W-what?”

Logan took another step until your chest was suddenly pressed against his. “Did I stutter?”

You felt like you were going to stutter if you said anything, so you sort of just… stood there. Waiting. For what exactly, you weren’t sure. Some clarity maybe?

Certainly not Logan grabbing you by the waist and kissing you, so firm and confident you couldn’t help but melt into his embrace. His hands were grabbing your waist, finding the dips in your curves and squeezing there, grabbing them and tugging you towards him.

His lips dragged across yours, adding an air of desperation to the kiss. You couldn’t help but bring your hand up to cup his cheek, thumb stroking his bearded jaw as he kissed you deeper, seeming for all the world like he was never going to stop. You were powerless to stop it, and you found you didn’t even want to. Your walls were crumbling and you gladly let them if it meant you could continue kissing this man.

Logan hefted you up onto your desk and you let out a gasp, muffled by Logan’s lips. He smiled into the kiss anyway, amused by your surprise, and placed his hands on your knees to part them so he could get between your legs. 

You immediately wrapped your legs around his waist, something he liked if the pleased grunt from his throat was anything to go by. His kissing became more fevoured, like he wanted to devour you, and you gladly let yourself drown in him.

That was until the school bell rang, startling you both out of the kiss. Or rather, just you, because Logan seemed content to move to your neck when your lips stopped responding.

“Logan,” you murmured. “I have a class to teach.”

Logan made an angry grunt and continued placing open mouthed kisses to your collarbone. You laughed and gently pushed him away, causing the man to growl and look at you with such irritation you’d think you interrupted his wedding or something.

“I’m busy here,” Logan said.

You had to physically swallow the breathless sigh threatening to escape your lips, instead saying, “we can continue this later.”

“We will continue this later.”

You smiled, almost shyly, which was ironic considering he was still between your legs. “Yeah?”

Logan moved forward so he could whisper into your ear. “Now that I have you Bub, I ain’t ever letting go.”

He pulled back and your smile widened, making a mental note to thank Jean when you next saw her. “I can live with that.”

[quimichi]

NSFW - MDI

He's obsessed with your voice. He loves the way you whimper and just struggle your words out. He loves to to tease, he LIVES to tease you. He's so mean whe he asks what you want, just so he can deny it and command you to beg for it.

He's buried deep inside of you, barely able to hold himself up, panting heavily. He looks down at the pretty face you're making and he can't help but think that the only thing that would make it better is the sound of your beautiful voice.

"Tell me what you want, baby" he breathes in your ear, dropping his head down to your neck. He stopped moving. His hot breath hitting your heated skin. "I asked you somethin'~" he hums leaning back down to press kiss over your shoulder. You can practically feel his smirk in his voice.

"Please-" is all you're able to stutter out at first and it makes him grin onto your skin as he lifts his head to shake it at you. "Naw, I couldn't quite hear you princess,.. you should use bigger words for your needs?" there's this pout on his face, he's mocking you. Out of desperation you kiss him, in hopes that he could possibly forget about your loss of words.

He indulges you for a few seconds before pulling away and raising his eyebrow at you. That's when you realise he's serious; he really won't move an inch until you tell him exactly what you want. "Please-, just.. fuck me" you whine, you know it won't be enough for him but you hope it is because if he doesn't move in the next thirty seconds you feel you might combust. You honestly don't know what will combust, but something is definitely blowing up and its also gonna be you.

"Good start, baby, but it's not enough" he chuckles at your responding whine and buries his head into you neck chuckling. Although this is more than entertaining, he also has to hide the fact this is just as agonizing for him like it is for you. "How do you want it, hm? Tell me how you want me to fuck you." "Please, just fuck me. Fuck me hard. Fuck me dumb. Fuck me so hard you break me, the bed or the wall. I don't care just please fuck me" you desperately shout out in embarrassment.

He lets out an elated laugh, this is exactly what he wants to hear. He leans in to kiss you and ends up muffling the happy whine you let out when he finally starts moving. But quickly you feel dizzy, you're beyond coherent words at this point. You can't even think straight. He feels so good inside you that you almost go crazy. You instinctively grab at his skin, raking your nails over his shoulder blades. He loves being able to get you like this, he loves listen to you break like this. You and the pretty noises you make are all his to enjoy....

Kageyama, Tsukishima, Matsukawa, Kuroo, Atsumu, Suna, Tendou, Terushima (haikyuu)

Kaeya, Al-Haitham, Ayato, Itto, Scaramouche, Wriothesley, Dottore, Pantalone (genshin)

Geto, Nanami, Gojo, Toji (JJK)

Hisoka, Chrollo, Feitan, Phinks (HxH)

Rafayel (love and deepspace)

Leona, Lilia, Jade, Floyd, Ace, Trey (twst wonderland)