#i think i stopped breathing for a moment when i saw her

[fuzzythoughtsblog]

I had a fantasy that I went to a best friends sleep over and ended up reading her older sister's diary :

Truth or dare

My friend says to me. I look in her eyes and I know I can't choose truth. She'll will come up with the most vile secert to get out of me.

"Dare !" I spit out in fear

"I dare you to sneak in to my sisters room read her diary and report back. " she says with a smirk.

Fuck me I tell her that , she's so childish. And that were on break from college.

"To bad, you pick dare or are you pussy? " she retorts saying the one thing that would convince me to go.

I'm not scared of her sister. She's only a 6'7 grunge base player who is 3 years older. What there to be scared of? It's not like whenever I'm here she rolls her eyes and slams the door. It's not like she refuses to eat dinner with us. Yeah and she wasn't to scary when she yelled at us after sneaking out to a slutty Halloween party. Fuck she hates me and I'm about to sneak into her room.

I decided to just swallow my fear and go for it besides she's not even home she has a gig.

I creep to the basement where her room is. Slowly the fear begins to still as before I enter her room I see the walls covered in electric guitars. Every color and style I could imagine. I stop to admire all the other equipment she has records, picks, amps and even some Cassettes.

I let out a breathe of relief as open the door to her room and she isn't there. Now all I got to find is that damn book.

I first go to her night stand and begin to peer in. I taking a moment to process what I'm looking a, Lacy lingerie. Upon realizing its contents I quickly shut the drawer. Embarrassed I move on desperate to get this night over with. I look at the bottom drawer and am left starring. Toys so many toys in different shapes and sizes. But what left me shocked wasn't just the various toys. I mean were both adults.

It was the was the paddle. Wooden and bigger that my hand I wondered why she would have something like this. With stupid curiousity I lift it up to examine it. The paddle was in perfect condition, like it had never been used. The thing has hearts cut into it and says in big black bold letters "Scream". I begin to put it back but as I do to other items that it was hiding catch my eye. A pair of metal hand cuffs and a strap harness. I can't help but imagine who she's been using these on. At that thought I quickly put the items back in and close drawer.

If she doesn't hate me, she'll definitely hate me now. I went through her stuff and I hadn't even found the book. I sigh before moving over to the other night stand and open the drawer. This time though jackpot the book was sitting in plain sight. As I pick up the black leather book I curse myself for not looking through this one first.

For a second I hesitate, this is total over step of her boundaries. Besides I could just go back and lie that I read it. I decided that a good idea but as I'm about to put the book back I think about how I could figure out why she hates me. I ponder for a moment but I got to know what I did. I open the book.

It turns out the book is less of a diary and more of a shadow journal. I begin to flip until I find a page about me. The prompt reads " What is your toxic or most obsessive desire? "

Slowly I take in what she writes. "If I had a second alone with my sisters best friend I think I'd devour her. " my eyes stretch wide as I keep reading. "The things I want to do to her body are just ... I want to see her begging and crying under me. I want to punish her for being so damn tempting with those little skirts and short shorts."

I bite my lip but flip through more pages until I see something that mentions me. The prompt "What is a bad financial decisions you've made recently? " I can't help but lean closer while reading. " I was checking in on one of the local sex shops I frequent when I saw a cute little paddle. I couldn't help myself not when I imagine her below me pleading. I imagined pulling her hair and telling her to shut up and asking if she was a good girl. She said "yes daddy" and fuck did that just scratch the right itch in my brain. I told her then she needs to take her punishment like a good girl. Before laying down on her ass while she screamed and cried. Of course I gave my pretty girl kisses after I bit her ass. I have to remind her who she belongs to. And now I want to buy her a collar. "

I'm horrified by what I just read but I couldn't put the book down. I continued on. "What is the most fucked up fantasy you've had recently? " "I imagine her coming to my house and asking for my sister like always but this time I walk her to my sisters room even though she's not home. I lock the door behind her and get really close while she backs up. She looks so cute and she's wearing that tight purple dress she wears. I grab her and begin to kiss her while she pushes me away. I bite her lip and she crys into my mouth while I shove my tongue down her throat. She fights me as I throws her on the bed. But I'm stronger and able to hold her down. She begins to cry as I rip off that stupid fucking dress and kiss down her neck to her perfect tits.

I then slide my hand down to her pretty panties and rub her clit through the lace. She makes a noise and trys to squirm away which cause me to hit her. I tell her to be a good girl and this will all be over soon. She fucking whimpers but stops struggling. I continue to play with her cute clit till she soaks her panties. I whisper "see you want this." Before ripping her panties off of her. And sink a finger in. She's so fucking wet. I slide another finger in and then another. Till I'm three fingers deep. She makes the most beautiful noises while I take her apart on my hand. The more I take her the more wet and docile she becomes. I fuck her like this until she's dripping down her leg and begging me to stop. She pleads so cutely I can't help it. I pull down my pants revealing my biggest strap. Pushing it in while she just lies their limp like a perfect toy. I slam in and out of her taking both her virginities on her best friends bed. By the time I cum she's quivering and her cunt is unrecognizable. I take a picture and drag her to my room leaving her juices on my sisters bed. So the most fucked up fantasy I've ever had is raping my sister's best friend on her bed for hours and its reoccurring. I'd never do it of course I want her to enjoy and consent to it I'm not a monster it's just a fun fantasy. "

I begin to rub my legs together at that last one. I put the book back having had my fill when I see her sister standing right there in the door way causing me to scream.

She looks pissed and close the door and locks it behind her.

"How much did you read? "

"Nothing" I shout frozen to where I stand.

"Bullshit" she says stalking closer

"Just the crush thing and it's okay!" I say as she gets even closer.

"Lier"

"Okay I read the thing about the paddle but that's it!" I wince

She grabs my shoulders and looks at me. A chill run down my back. I flinch.

Squeaking out a "Please, don't!"

She sighs and let's go of me before sitting on the bed.

"You read the fantasy? "

I nodded slowly.

"The rape one. "

I nodded again

She sighs "Fuck, this is not how I wanted you find out! Actually I was hoping you'd never find out! "

She puts her hands on her head.

"Sit down, I'm not going to actually do any of that to you. "

I sit beside her. While she remains still before taking a deep breath in.

"So you read it, why? "

I meekly say "A dare"

"Fuck! It was my sister wasn't it? I'll kill her. "

I stay quite she knows the answer.

She sighs "So what do you want to ask me? And then I'm gonna ask you some questions, okay.

I nod.

" How long?" I ask

She breathes "Since your freshman year, of course I wasn't going to act on it. It's just, I thought I thought of you like another little sister and then I started watching out for you. Which turned into watching you and before I knew it I couldn't look away. "

"Is that why your we're mad at us on Halloween that one year ? "

"Are you kidding me? You were basically wearing lingerie. I mean a skimpy pink bunny suit, I know you were a senior but still what if someone tried something? And on top of all that you guys snuck out! You know I had to hide that from mom and dad so you could stick around. "

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, you looked... amazing. Look I don't just like you because of your body, I mean don't get me wrong it's a plus but I also love your laugh. How your the first one to try to help. Even when my sister started doing her project last minute you where there to help. I love the way you melt around animals and your stupid dance. I like you okay. Not just what you have to offer." She says while looking up at me and holding my check.

We're so close. I lean in to close the gap but she pulls away.

"Don't do that, don't give me a pitty kiss! "

I lean forward "I'm not, I just want to try this. "

Our lips finally connect and its like electricity I feel it from my head to the tips of my toes. I shiver we break apart to breathe then begin again. It feels amazing, but not close enough. I crawl closer until I'm sitting on her lap and kiss her while wrapping my arms around her neck. The kiss begins to get more and more dangerous as we go on. Her hand begin to wonder and grip. While I rock into her lap. Soon she breaks the kiss.

"Hey, I don't know if I'm getting mix signals but can I touch you? " she says with her pretty eyes.

I pause for a minute then get a sly idea "Yes, daddy! " I whisper into her ear.

"Fuck " she says before pressing me down to where my back touches her bed. "Who knew you'd be such a damn brat. " she says while kiss down on my neck

I whine as she bites my shoulder. "What's the matter ? You've never been touched like this? "

She lowers her hand down my skirt and begins to rub while I stutter "No, then again no ones touched me. "

She pause "What?"

"You guessed right. "

"Are you sure you want to do this because we don't have to. I can... " I quiet her

"I'm sure , I trust you. In fact I want you to do to me what you wrote about in your little book. Y'know the thing with the paddle. "

"Are you sure that's a little advanced. "

"I'm sure, do you not want to? "

"No I want to, fuck I want to" she says while reaching into the night stand.

"Good, how do you want me, daddy? "

"Fuck your going to be the death of me. Across my lap baby. "

I lay across her lap. And give a wiggle.

"Let's see, how many spanks? Maybe 4 spanks for your 4 years of teasing. Plus 3 for the 3 pages you read. Plus 5 for that slutty fucking costume that had me salivating for weeks. So 12.“

I whine

"Don't whine or I'll make it 15."

I stop.

" That's a good girl. " she says while ruffling my hair.

"Now we're going to use the stop light system, along with a safeword. Do you know how the stop light systems work and have a safeword in mind?"

"Yeah my safeword is rock. And the stop light systems works like red means stop, yellow slow down or change what your doing and green means keep going. "

"Correct, now I'm not going to be upset or disappointed if you safeword or want to stop okay. "

"Okay."

"Good now, count. "

The first hit stings

"One"

The second one burns

"Two"

The third positively aches

"Three"

The rest hurt but for some reason it leaves me feeling dizzy and so good.

"Twelve"

"Good girl are you, okay? "

"Yes."

"Okay how are you, are you okay to continue? "

I nod

"No girl I need a verbal answer what's your color? "

"Green, don't stop I want you to fuck me"

"Fuck, okay baby. " she says before digging in her drawer and strapping into her strap.

I flip around and spread my legs out and put my arms up.

"Wait babygirl, I have to make sure your prepped. " she says as she dips a cloused finger in while I whine

"Fuck baby your soaked. Did my girl like spankings that much? "

I nod

"Poor girls all layed out like a pretty little toy. "

I begin to moan as she adds another finger and begins pumping them in and out with her thumb on my clit. Then she goes fast and pumps in and out harder.

"I know baby it's so much, my fingers are so much for you. " she says while working me harder and harder until fuck... She stops.

"Not yet sweet heart, your gonna cum undone on my cock pretty girl. " she says as she pushes in slowly so slowly.

After bottoming out she waits a minute and I nod. After I nod she thrusts shallow slow thrusts. That feel amazing but leaves me wanting.

After a few minutes of that I grab her shoulders "Daddy, harder!"

"Fuck." She says while rolling her hips.

She lifts my legs up higher to my confusion before slamming in hard. The thrust again and again while I just take it letting her use my body.

"There you go baby. Sorry daddy though you wanted to fucked like a princess. I forgot how much of a slut you are. " she says while still pounding into me

And then she begins to rub my clit. It's so fuck much. Fuck I begin to cry and whine.

"That's it babygirl, cry on daddy's fucking dick" she begins rubbing my clit harder causing me to scream.

"Daddy, I don't want to get pregnant yet. " I say through dazzy tears

"Aww " she says while rubbing and thrust like she was trying to milk more nosies out of me "Don't worry baby you'll look so nice with my kids. "

I feel my body shake and arch and then everything thing goes limp. And my vision goes white. I hear a soft buzzing and for that moment I have no fucking idea what my name is.

"Comeback to me baby" she says my head barley follows her eyes

"Was it good? "

I nod

"Good." She says as she pulls out while I hiss. "It's okay. "

She then lays down beside me and holds me while I begin to come back down.

"You back? "

"Yeah" I say voice horsed

"Okay we'll put cream on you and clean you up later. Okay. "

I nod and cuddle closer

"Okay and baby you can not tell my sister yet. "

[wiltedflowerpetals]

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Captain John Price's wife, a trained assassin, is about to go on a mission, but she has only one thing on her mind. Her husband. The man who didn't know about her secret job…

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Words: 2850

Warning: fluff, a bit angsty, death (target got killed)

Previous Part: Part 1 - Wife Meets Friend

The next morning, you turned in your bed, arm moving towards John’s side, only to find out that he was not in bed. No. By the smell of coffee that lingered in the air, you knew that he was in the kitchen. You dressed quickly and headed downstairs, finding him at the table with a steaming mug in hand, flipping through a newspaper.

“Morning.” He greeted with a warm smile as you entered the kitchen. His eyes brightened as he saw you, and he set the newspaper down to focus on you.

“Morning.” You replied, returning his smile and walking over to pour yourself a cup of your favorite drink. The aroma was comforting, like a small anchor to normalcy after the day you'd had. “You’re up early.”

“Old habits.” John said with a shrug, taking another sip from his mug. “Couldn't sleep much, so I figured I'd get a head start on the day.”

You nodded, though you wondered if his restlessness had anything to do with you. Did he sense that something was off? You tried to push the thought aside. “Any plans today?”

“Nothing much. Thought I’d get some work done, maybe catch up on a bit of paperwork.” He replied, leaning back in his chair. “What about you?”

You sipped your hot drink, carefully considering your words. “Just some errands around town, then I might drop by the office for a bit. We’ve got a few deadlines coming up.”

John chuckled, shaking his head. “Always working. You should take a day off sometime, you know? Relax a little.”

You smiled softly, appreciating his concern. “I’ll try to remember that.”

As the day wore on, you found yourself reflecting on the life you’d built with John. Your marriage was strong, built on love and trust… Trust that you were constantly betraying by keeping your true self hidden. Only because you wanted to protect him from your job. The world you operated in was dangerous, filled with secrets and lies, and the less John knew, the safer he would be.

In the afternoon, you decided to step out to run the errands you’d mentioned earlier. You kissed John’s and left, promising to be back soon. As you drove through the streets of your neighborhood, your thoughts drifted back to Kate’s visit. It had gone well, but the pressure was building. How much longer could you keep this up?

You stopped at a small park on your way back home, needing a moment to clear your head. Sitting on a bench under the shade of a tree, you watched as families played with their children, couples walked hand in hand, and joggers passed by with their headphones in. It was a picture of a peaceful and normal life… A life you never had.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. You grabbed it and glanced at the screen, seeing a message from an unknown number. You read the brief text: We need to talk. Usual place. 1900.

You frowned, recognizing the message. It was from one of your CIA contacts. You took a deep breath, quickly typing out a response. You were used to it by now, but the timing couldn’t have been worse. You needed to find a way to slip out tonight without raising John’s suspicions.

When you returned home, John was still in his study. You paused at the doorway, watching him for a moment. He looked so peaceful, so content in his element.

“You’re back.” John said, looking up with a smile as he noticed you standing there.

“Yeah, just finished up.” You replied, stepping into the room. “How’s your day going?”

“Not bad.” He said, leaning back in his chair. “Got a lot done. I was thinking maybe we could go out for dinner tonight, you know, to unwind a bit. What do you think?”

Your heart sank. John rarely suggested going out. But tonight, of all nights, he’d chosen to go on a small little date with you. Great… You couldn’t refuse without arousing suspicion, but you also couldn’t afford to miss the meeting.

“That sounds nice.” You said carefully, already trying to figure out a way to work around it. “But how about we raincheck for tomorrow? I’m a little tired from running around all day.”

John studied you for a moment, eyes filled with concern. “You sure you’re alright? You’ve seemed a bit off since yesterday.”

You stepped closer to him. “I’m fine, really. Just a little worn out. Tomorrow would be better, I think. We could make it a proper date night.”

He reached out, taking your hand and pulling you onto his lap. “Alright, if you’re sure. Tomorrow it is.”

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. Of course you felt guilty, but you had no other choice. “Thank you.” You whispered, kissing his neck softly. “For understanding.”

“Always.” John murmured, holding you close. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

You closed your eyes, wishing more than anything that you could tell him the truth, that you didn’t have to hide this part of yourself from the man you loved. But you couldn’t - you wouldn’t - risk his safety for your own peace of mind.

Later that evening, after you’d shared a quiet dinner at home, you waited until John had settled into the living room with a book before making your move. You casually mentioned needing to check on something at the office, using one of your excuses. John offered to come with you, but you gently declined, insisting it wouldn’t take long.

He kissed you goodbye, watching as you left with a small smile, completely unaware of the true nature of your errand.

You drove through the city. The usual place was a parking garage downtown, one of the many locations you used for these kinds of meetings. You arrived a few minutes early, parking in a shadowy corner and waiting.

A black SUV pulled up next to your car shortly after, and a man in a dark suit stepped out, his expression serious. You recognized him immediately - Agent Daniels, one of your primary contacts at the CIA.

“Evening, Mrs. Price.” He greeted you with a curt nod.

“Daniels.” You replied. “What’s going on?”

“We’ve got a situation.” He said, handing you a slim folder. “A high-value target is back on the grid. We need you to handle it.”

You opened the folder, scanning the information quickly. The target was a known arms dealer with ties to several terrorist organizations - a dangerous man with a long list of enemies. “This is a priority?”

“Top priority.” Daniels confirmed. “He’s planning to move a shipment in the next 48 hours. We need to shut it down before it reaches its destination.”

You nodded, already planning your approach. “What’s the location?”

“He’s holed up in a compound outside of the city. We’ve got a team on standby, but you’ll be leading the operation.”

You closed the folder, meeting his gaze. You sighed, not wanting to lead the operation as it meant that you also had to lead a team. You preferred to work alone, but apparently you had no other choice. “… Understood. I’ll take care of it.”

Daniels gave you a brief, approving nod. “Good. You’ll be briefed on the full details tomorrow morning. Be ready.”

With that, he got back into the SUV and drove off, leaving you alone in the garage. You took a deep breath. This was just another mission, another job to complete. But as you started your car and headed home, you had one thought. Balancing your secret life was becoming harder by the day, and you didn’t know how much longer you could keep the two worlds from colliding.

When you returned home, John was still in the living room, dozing lightly with the book resting on his chest. You paused in the doorway, watching him sleep, heart heavy.

You approached quietly, taking the book from his hands and setting it on the table. He stirred, opening his eyes slightly. “You’re back.” he mumbled, half-asleep.

“Yeah.” You whispered, brushing a hand through his hair. “Go to bed, honey.”

He nodded groggily, allowing you to help him up. As you made your way upstairs, you felt the familiar pang of guilt, stronger than ever. You loved him more than anything, and yet, every day you deceived him, kept him in the dark about who you really were.

You two crawled into bed, and John pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you as if he could protect you from the world. But he didn’t know the truth - that it was you who was protecting him, shielding him from the bad guys during his missions.

The next morning, you were up before dawn. You moved quietly through the house, careful not to wake John as you gathered your gear. Today’s mission was critical, and you couldn’t afford any mistakes. As you pulled on your tactical suit, your mind focused on the task ahead. There was no room for doubt or hesitation.

Before leaving, you slipped back into the bedroom, where John was still fast asleep. You stood by the bed for a moment, taking in the sight of him. He looked so peaceful, so unaware of the dangerous things you were doing and going to do. Leaning down, you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, whispering, “I love you” before turning to leave.

The drive to the briefing location was uneventful. The compound outside the city was heavily guarded, and the target was known for being ruthless. But you’d faced worse.

When you arrived at the location, Daniels and the rest of the team were already there. They were gathered around a large table covered in maps and surveillance photos. You walked in, nodding to them.

“Glad you could make it.” Daniels said as you approached. “We’re ready to go over the plan.”

You nodded again, stepping up to the table. “Let’s get started.”

The briefing was quick and to the point. The target was using the compound as a staging area for an arms deal that could supply a dangerous faction with enough firepower to destabilize an entire region. The mission was simple in theory: infiltrate, neutralize the target, and destroy the shipment before it could be moved.

But as with all things in your line of work, the reality would be far more complex. The compound was well-fortified, with multiple layers of security and heavily armed guards. The risk was high, but so were the stakes.

“I’ll lead the assault team.” You said as you went through the details. “We’ll go in at night, under the cover of darkness. We’ll need to move quickly and quietly.”

Daniels nodded. “Agreed. We can’t afford to tip them off before we’re in position.”

The team spent the rest of the day preparing, double-checking equipment, and going over the plan until everyone knew their roles by heart. You kept your mind focused on the mission, pushing aside any thoughts of John and the life you’d have to return to after this was over. Now was not the time to think about it. You couldn't afford distractions. The mission required your full attention.

As night fell, the team geared up and prepared to move out. You stood with your team, your expression calm and composed. This was the part of your life you had to keep separate from John, the part he could never know about.

“Alright, everyone.” You said. “We go in fast and quiet. Stick to your roles, and we’ll get this done. Let’s move.”

The team moved out in silence; their vehicles drove them towards the compound. The tension in the air was palpable. This was what you were trained for, what you were good at. Every detail of the mission played out in your head as you approached your target.

When you arrived at the outskirts of the compound, the team disembarked, moving swiftly into position. You led the way, your movements precise. You reached the perimeter, where you signaled for the team to hold. From their vantage point, you could see the guards patrolling the area, their weapons at the ready.

“Snipers, take out the perimeter guards on my mark.” You whispered into your comm. “We move in as soon as they’re down.”

There was a tense silence as you waited for the right moment. You counted the seconds in your head, timing their approach perfectly. Then, with a single command, the silence was shattered by the sound of sniper rifles. The guards dropped one by one.

“Move.” You ordered, and the team advanced, slipping through the shadows as you made your way deeper into the compound.

The mission unfolded with ruthless efficiency. The team moved like a well-oiled machine, each member playing their part flawlessly. You encountered resistance as you closed in on the target, but you were relentless.

As you breached the main building, you found the target in a makeshift command center, surrounded by his most trusted men. The firefight that ensued was intense, but you were unstoppable. In a matter of minutes, the room was cleared, and the target lay dead at your feet.

“Target neutralized.” You reported, your voice steady as you stood over the body.

“Good work.” Daniels replied over the comms. “Proceed with the secondary objective.”

You and your team quickly moved to the storage area, where you found the shipment of weapons. It was an impressive cache, enough to equip a small army. You planted the charges, setting the timer to ensure you had enough time to get clear.

“Charges set.” You confirmed. “We’re heading out.”

The team made their way back to the extraction point, the sound of distant explosions rumbling behind them as the charges detonated. The mission had been a success, but there was no time for celebration. You had to get out of the area before any reinforcements arrived.

As you reached the extraction point, sighed in relief. The mission was over, and soon you would be back home with John, back to the life you were desperately trying to protect.

The ride back was quiet, the team too exhausted to talk. You leaned your head back against the seat, closing your eyes for a moment. You thought of John, wondering if he was still up, if he was waiting for you. You couldn’t wait to see him, to feel his arms around you, after this mission.

When you finally returned to the base, you debriefed with Daniels and the rest of the team. As soon as the formalities were over, you took a shower fast and changed your clothes, before you headed straight for your car.

The drive home was a fast. All you could think about was John and your bed. As you pulled into the driveway, you noticed that the lights were still on in the house. John was still up, waiting for you. Your heart swelled with emotion as you stepped out of the car and made your way to the front door.

When you walked inside, you found John in the living room, sitting on the couch with a glass of whiskey in his hand. He looked up as you entered, a relieved smile spreading across his face.

“You’re back.” He said, standing up to greet you.

You smiled, feeling the weight of the day’s events start to lift as she crossed the room and wrapped your arms around him. “I’m back.”

John held you close, his embrace warm and comforting. “I was starting to worry. Everything alright at the office?”

“Yeah.” You lied smoothly, pulling back to look at him. “Just some last-minute issues, but it’s all sorted now.”

He studied you for a moment, his eyes searching yours. “You sure you’re okay? You seem… tense.”

“I’m fine.” You tried to assure him. “Just tired, that’s all.”

John nodded, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Come on, let’s go to bed. You need to rest.”

He kissed your forehead and smelled your hair for a second. “Did you shower?”

You chuckled. “Yeah, there was a small smoothie incident at work. It was everywhere.” You lied at him, walking with him upstairs as he chuckled.

You changed into your pajamas and crawled into bed beside him. John pulled you close, his presence reminding you of what you were fighting for.

As you lay there in the darkness, listening to the sound of his breathing. The mission was over, and you were lucky that he wasn’t suspicious of any of your lies. But the fear still lingered in the back of your mind. The fear, that one day, John would find out the truth, and everything you’d worked so hard to protect would come crashing down.

But for tonight, you allowed to savor the warmth of John’s embrace and the quiet peace of your home. Tomorrow, you would face whatever challenges came your way. But tonight, you were just (Y/N) Price, the woman who loved her husband more than anything in the world.

And that was enough.

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[mischievoushiddleston]

Between Timelines

Warnings: Smut

Pairing: Loki/Reader

Masterlist here!

The stuffy air in the cabin weighed heavily on your shoulders. It was dark, with only a faint light flickering through the narrow window while the noise of the time distortions outside echoed quietly. Y/N stood with crossed arms, leaning against the wall, trying to keep her nerves steady. Loki faced her, as always, with that smug, unbearably arrogant smile on his lips.

"And how long are we supposed to sit here?" he asked mockingly as he casually sat on the small wooden bench in the middle of the room. "I thought you had more control over the situation, Agent." His voice was honey-sweet, but every word he spoke carried a hidden intent to provoke her.

She stared at him, trying not to let him provoke her, though her pulse quickened whenever he looked at her that way. For weeks, perhaps even months, she had felt this tension between them. Something dark, forbidden, was woven into every conversation, but she had successfully refused to acknowledge it until now.

"We're waiting until the time disturbance is resolved," she answered coolly, hoping her voice didn’t betray how much his presence got under her skin. "I thought patience was a virtue for a god."

Loki chuckled softly, a deep, throaty sound that seemed to fill the room. "Patience I have, my dear. But not when there’s so much... more interesting ways to pass the time." His gaze wandered slowly over your body—not in a crude way but with a dangerously refined touch that made her catch her breath.

She felt her stomach tighten—from frustration, from desire, from a mix of both. "You'll have to get bored, Loki," she murmured, but even she knew the words sounded hollow. Every moment spent in this cabin made it harder to maintain the wall between them.

"Bored?" Loki stood, coming closer slowly. His steps were eerily quiet, yet it felt as if he filled the room with every movement. He stopped right in front of her, so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek. "I don't think we'll get bored that easily."

His scent—a heady mixture of leather, magic, and something unfathomable—wrapped around her like a heavy shroud. He seemed to saturate the air with his presence, and she could feel her heart pounding uncontrollably faster. Loki tilted his head slightly, his eyes piercing through her as if he could effortlessly see into the most hidden corners of her mind. The heat emanating from him was palpable. How could he burn so intensely when she knew he was, in truth, a frost giant? The contradiction was as seductive as it was confusing.

"Or are you afraid?" he whispered, his voice a silky, seductive murmur that sent tingles down her nerves. "Afraid that you're not as untouched by me as you think?"

A shiver ran down her spine as goosebumps involuntarily spread across her body. Her legs pressed together slightly, almost reflexively, as her body betrayed the unspoken words in a way she couldn't control. She barely noticed how her lips parted slightly—not until she saw Loki's gaze slowly drift to her mouth. That's when she realized it, feeling caught.

Quickly, she straightened up, trying to put distance between them, though the cramped space of the cabin made it nearly impossible. "I'm not afraid, Trickster," she replied with a voice that was meant to sound more solid than it felt. The uncertainty weighed heavily in her chest, but she couldn't show it to him.

Loki laughed quietly, his mocking, dark laughter filled the room like an invisible hand wrapping around her throat—just gently enough not to be suffocating, but still dominant.

"Then why do you try to stay away from me?" Loki's voice was like a dark, velvety whisper that pierced the air between them. "Almost as if you're afraid of what I might do to you... or even more, what I could make you feel." His eyes slid shamelessly over her body as if absorbing every reaction, every tiny movement she couldn't suppress.

Involuntarily, she pressed her legs together again, a weak attempt to tame the rising heat within her. But it was futile. The arousal grew inside her, pulsing through her veins, and there was no escape. Not in this room, not in this closeness, not with him.

She swallowed hard, ignoring the lump in her throat, and tried to widen the gap between them. Her heart raced as she tried to squeeze past him, away from his presence that acted like a magnet on her. But just as she thought she could escape, his hand shot forward and closed firmly around her wrist. With a fluid movement, he pulled her against him, her back gently colliding with his chest. The heat from his body enveloped her, even though it still seemed absurd to her that the frost giant could be so blisteringly warm.

"Why don't you admit that you want me just as much as I want you?" His voice was now right in her ear, deep and vibrating, as his hand slid along her arm and gently settled on her hip. "You're so good at controlling everything, Agent... but not with me, are you?"

She could feel every contour of his chest against her back, his breath brushing her hair and tickling her skin. Her body reacted involuntarily to his proximity, the rising arousal could no longer be ignored. Her pulse was racing, and though she tried to remain calm, every nerve in her body was focused on him, like an invisible force pulling her deeper into his proximity.

"Loki..." Her own breath was shallow, and her voice was shaky as she tried to say something—anything—to regain her control. But there it was again, that overwhelming tension between them. His fingers trailed slowly down her side, just lightly enough to drive her crazy. She could feel the walls of her defense crumbling under his touch.

"Say it, Agent." His grip tightened, though not painfully. Just demanding. "Tell me you want me. Let it happen."

She bit her lip, her heartbeat so loud in her ears that it drowned out the rest of the world. Loki's breath was hot on her neck, as if every move he made was deliberately aimed at driving her further into the abyss. The way his fingers playfully stroked over her hip—gentle but full of promise—made her knees weak. She couldn't deny it—not anymore.

"Loki..." Her breath caught, and as she spoke his name, she felt her voice tremble with the arousal he evoked in her. A dangerous, self-satisfied smile crept onto his face, even though she couldn’t see him—she felt it in the way his hands rested on her body, in how his grip on her hip tightened.

"Yes?" he whispered, his lips so close to her ear that his breath grazed her, sending shivers down her spine. "Say it, or shall I show you?"

She couldn’t answer—or perhaps she didn’t want to. She was no longer sure what she was feeling, apart from this unbearable attraction that nearly brought her to her knees. Her body was already reacting uncontrollably, as if her mind was too slow to stop the flood of desire Loki had awakened in her. She felt his hands gripping her more tightly, one of them slowly sliding over her belly, leaving little space between them.

"You want it—I know you do," he whispered, his voice now deeper, raspier, almost a growl. "You're strong, Agent, but you're not strong enough to resist."

His grip on her hip loosened for a moment, only to then press her suddenly against the nearest wall. Her back hit the cool, rough surface, and the mixture of the cold wall and the heat of his body standing right in front of her was overwhelming. Loki stood so close that she could feel his breath on her lips as his eyes bore into hers, as if he wanted to pull out every hidden thought, every reluctant desire.

"Say it," he demanded once again, this time with more urgency. His hand now rested directly on her thigh, and she could feel the heat seeping through the fabric of her clothes. "Tell me you want me."

Her mind screamed against it, forbidding her to admit what had long become obvious, but her body had already made the decision. Her lips parted before she could think, and she whispered, almost reluctantly, "I... want you."

A triumphant spark flashed in Loki’s eyes as he heard her say it, as if he had been waiting for this moment all along. "I thought so," he murmured, his voice a dangerous, silky purr as he leaned in slowly. His lips brushed hers gently, almost provocatively, and it was enough to break the last of her control.

The world around her disappeared as he deepened the kiss, demanding and hungry, as if he wanted to release the weeks of unspoken desire in this moment. His hands explored her body with an intensity, an almost possessive passion, and she felt herself letting go of everything—every doubt, every resistance.

Loki lifted her effortlessly, her legs instantly wrapping around his hips as if they were made to hold him tightly. The moment his hard erection pressed against her center, she gasped for breath. A deep, hot pull spread through her lower abdomen as the desire washed over her like a wave. The heat between her legs grew more intense, and she could feel the moist tingling spreading through her body.

A quiet, uncontrolled moan escaped her throat, barely audible but unmistakable. Her hips moved slightly, seeking more of the seductive friction that grew stronger with every movement. Loki held her tightly, his fingers digging lightly into her hips as he pulled her closer to him, so tightly that she could feel every contour of his erection against her sensitive center.

"You like that, don't you?" he whispered, his voice deep and laced with self-satisfied darkness. His lips hovered just millimeters from hers, while his eyes locked onto her with untamed intensity. He could feel her wetness, barely hidden by the thin layers of fabric, and a dangerous smile played on his lips as he pressed her body against his.

Her breath became shallow as he pressed even closer, the hardness of his erection unyielding against her heat. The friction was unbearably sweet, each movement making her tremble more, and she couldn’t stop her hips from moving toward him, seeking, yearning. Her entire body was a burning tension that could only be released by him.

"Tell me what you want," Loki whispered in a rough, soft voice that hung in the air like a dark promise. His lips slowly glided from hers down to her neck, where he teased her skin with gentle yet deliberate kisses. Each of his kisses left a slight burning sensation on her skin, and when he gently sank his teeth into her neck, an inevitable moan escaped her lips. Her hands gripped his shoulders tightly as her head tilted slightly to the side, giving him more space to mark her, to completely possess her.

"Loki..." Her whisper was barely a breath, her voice broken by desire. She could hardly think clearly as his tongue gently traced over the sensitive spot he had just marked with a kiss. Her body reacted as if in a trance, the hunger for him, for what he could give her, burned inside her like a fire consuming her from within.

"You... deep inside me..." Her words came out quietly, hoarse, and full of need. It wasn’t a request, but an undeniable need that she could no longer suppress. The inhibitions that had held her back at the beginning were long gone, like smoke in the wind. She pressed her hips against him, rubbing against his groin and feeling the hard pulse of his erection against her center, hot and demanding. Another shiver ran through her, her nerves on fire as she pressed closer to him, her body burning for more.

She didn’t know what had come over her, as if something dark and unexpected had awakened inside her—something only he could unleash. But she didn’t care. She needed him now, right here. The lust he had ignited in her was overwhelming, every touch from him electrified her. Her thoughts blurred as her body responded uncontrollably to the tension that grew stronger with each movement.

Loki sensed the change in her, saw how her gaze darkened, her eyes half-closed as her hips pressed further against him. A deep, satisfied smile spread across his face as he pulled her even closer. "You can have that, Agent..." His breath was hot on her neck, and his hands slid demandingly over her back, holding her in place as his hips shifted forward slightly, giving her a taste of what was to come.

Her body trembled under his touch, every nerve on edge as her longing turned into a burning desire that could only be satisfied by his full attention.

Loki held her firmly, his hands gliding over her back as if he were completing the art of a masterpiece. With one fluid motion, he let her slide back onto her feet, though he kept her body close to his, his lips still near her neck. Every breath he took seemed to make her skin tingle. With a quick, practiced motion, he loosened the clasp of her clothing, and the fabric slipped effortlessly from her shoulders.

Her skin tingled as the cool air of the room touched her, but it was nothing compared to the heat radiating from Loki's hands. He observed her as if he were soaking in every movement, every breath. "Let me see..." he murmured, his voice deep and filled with pure, undisguised desire.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she tried to remove his armor and the rest of her own clothing. But her impatience grew, and her hands became more restless, more demanding. Loki noticed, a mocking, almost dangerous smile spreading across his lips before he gently but firmly grabbed her wrists.

"Slowly, my dear," he murmured, as if he controlled time itself. "We have all the time in the world."

Yet those words didn’t match the way his hands moved with increasing urgency. He pushed the fabric from her shoulders, letting it glide down her arms and over her body until it fell to the floor, leaving her standing before him in nothing but her bare skin. His gaze traveled slowly over her body, and she could see the fire in his eyes, which made her almost burn under the intensity of his attention.

Her own hands trembled with desire as she finally began to remove his clothing. Layer by layer fell away from him until he too stood, clad only in the dark aura of power that always surrounded him. His body, firm and perfect, pressed against hers, his hardness painfully evident.

For a moment, they paused, both feeling the tension vibrating between them, almost tangible in the air. Her fingers gently traced over his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his skin, and a soft moan escaped her lips as he pressed her once again against the wall. The rough coldness of the stone contrasted sharply with the heat of his body, which was firmly against hers.

With one smooth motion, he spread her legs apart and lifted her again, her bare thighs wrapping once more around his hips. This time, there was nothing between them—no barrier, no clothing. She could feel every pulsing movement, every nuance of his arousal as it pressed demandingly against her center. A sharp gasp escaped her lips, and her fingernails lightly dug into his shoulders as her body unrelentingly craved more.

"Loki..." She breathed his name like a plea, her voice trembling with desire. Her hips moved almost instinctively against him, the heat between her legs growing uncontrollably, and she felt the wetness overwhelm her.

"Say it again," he murmured, his lips barely brushing her skin while his hands gripped her hips, pulling her tighter against him. His breath was hot and uneven, and she could feel how his own self-control was slowly slipping.

"I want you," she whispered, her words escaping before she even knew she was speaking. Her entire body yearned to feel his hardness inside her, to have him so deep within her that there was no separation between them. She could no longer bear the tension, the pulling in her lower abdomen, which had turned into pure, unbridled lust.

Loki growled softly, his grip on her hips tightening, becoming more demanding. He straightened up, and in one smooth, fluid motion, he entered her deeply, his hardness filling her completely. A loud moan escaped her as the wave of ecstasy hit her, and her head fell back as she surrendered herself entirely to him.

Loki held her firmly in his grip, his hands on her hips as he pulled her even closer to him. His hardness was deep within her, filling her to the edges of her perception, and she could feel every single muscle in her body reacting to the unbearable tension. He paused for a moment, letting her feel the pressure, the depth of his penetration, before he began to move in slow, controlled motions, pulling out of her only to thrust back in with unrelenting force.

A sharp gasp left her lips, her body trembling with lust as he pressed her tightly against him. His thrusts were deep and steady, but he controlled every movement with a dominance that overwhelmed her. His fingers dug deeper into her hips, and she knew he was restraining his strength, but still demanding. Her legs trembled around his hips, her nails scratching over his shoulders as she held onto him, her senses lost in the flood of desire and ecstasy he unleashed in her.

"You belong to me," Loki murmured, his voice hoarse as he thrust deep into her again. His breath was hot in her ear, his lips just millimeters from her neck as he continued to push her further against the wall—physically and mentally. "Say it."

Her lips parted, but all that escaped was a quiet moan, her thoughts too jumbled to form clear words. But that only seemed to spur him on. He thrust harder into her, his pace quickening, each thrust bringing her closer to the brink of madness. "Say it," he repeated, this time more demanding, his voice now darker, filled with his own desire.

"I..." Her voice broke as another thrust took her breath away. The intensity with which he moved inside her made her thoughts blur, and all she could feel was his hardness, the heat of his body, and the overwhelming waves of pleasure rising within her. "I belong to you," she finally gasped, her words filled with devotion and desire.

A triumphant smile flickered on his lips, and he immediately rewarded her with another deep, painfully sweet thrust that nearly made her cry out in ecstasy. "Good," he murmured, his voice now darker, deeper, almost a growl. "You will be mine—completely."

His grip on her hips tightened, almost possessively, as he continued to thrust into her, his movements hard and dominant, as if he wasn’t just claiming her body, but also her mind. Her senses blurred under the intensity of his dominance, each thrust causing her control to crumble further until she was nothing more than a puppet in his hands, completely surrendered yet craving more.

"Loki..." She called his name, her voice trembling as she fought against the overwhelming force of his thrusts, but her body yielded more and more to him, a burning desire growing deep within her, a fire only he could extinguish.

The intensity of Loki's thrusts increased, and with each insistent push, her senses lit up, while she drifted deeper into a heady ecstasy. Her thoughts became more clouded, and all that mattered was the rhythm of his body, the seductive play of his movements, which unrelentingly pulled her closer to the edge of desire.

"That’s it, my dear," he growled, his voice a seductive snarl. "Let go and give yourself to me." His words were like magic, drawing her deeper into the intoxicating sensation. She felt her body respond to every movement of his, every touch, every thrust that resonated deeply within her, igniting a burning desire in her core.

The heat in her abdomen grew overwhelming, and she couldn’t ignore the building pressure any longer. Her body was consumed by the fiery need rising within her, fueled by Loki's unceasing rhythm. She pressed herself against him, her legs wrapped tightly around his hips as she sought to maximize the intensity of his thrusts, craving the impending wave of pleasure that was about to erupt within her.

"Loki… I… I can’t…," she gasped, her voice filled with both desire and desperation. The pressure in her stomach became unbearable, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through her body, and the next wave seemed ready to overwhelm her.

"Come for me," he commanded, his voice deep and demanding, and that was the trigger she needed. With one final deep thrust, she felt the world around her disappear. The climax hit her like a massive tsunami—a rush of pure pleasure flooding her body.

A loud moan escaped her lips as the waves of ecstasy gripped her and sent her soaring. Her body tensed, shook, and arched against him as she gave in to the moment completely. "Loki!" she screamed as the orgasm overwhelmed her, plunging her into indescribable depths of pleasure.

He felt her tightening around him, her body clenching, pulling him deeper into the flood of desire. "Yes, just like that…" he murmured, his voice full of satisfaction as he remained buried deep within her, synchronizing his rhythm with the waves of her orgasm.

He was consumed by the knowledge that he had driven her to the edge, that she had surrendered herself fully in this moment of pure pleasure. That arousal, the feeling of complete control, and the intensity they shared brought him close to his own peak.

With each deep thrust that pushed her further into a state of ecstasy, he felt the waves of lust begin to overtake him as well. Her body trembled beneath him, her movements becoming more erratic.

Loki felt his climax building as she spurred him on with her desire. Her cries and moans were like music to his ears. The waves of pleasure she had just experienced seemed to transfer to him, and with one final, deep thrust that brought them both to the edge of their control, he tumbled over the brink.

"Yes, just like that..." he muttered as he climaxed, letting out a desperate, intoxicated groan as the ecstasy flooded his body like fireworks. He felt her tighten around him, she pressed herself against him as if she wanted to hold onto him forever as their bodies united in one final, intense moment of shared pleasure.

As the waves of desire subsided, Loki gently let her slide back to the floor, still holding her close. Her breath was ragged, and she closed her eyes as she basked in the afterglow of their intense experience. But as she lingered in the fleeting happiness of the moment, she didn’t notice Loki watching her—his gaze filled with satisfaction and power.

"You were perfect," he whispered, and there was an undertone in his voice that sent a shiver down her spine. She opened her eyes and saw how he stared at her as if she were a prized possession he had just added to his collection.

"I…" she began, but her words trailed off into nothing as she struggled to gather her thoughts, which were spinning in her head. It was a confusing mix of fulfillment and uncertainty, and she didn’t know how to face him.

"You’ve given me exactly what I wanted," he said, and his smile was mischievous, almost challenging. "But how much can you really trust me?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, the lump in her throat making it hard to continue speaking. Something in his tone made an uneasy feeling rise in her stomach. "You… You’re responsible for this."

His smile didn’t fade as he spoke. "You’re now part of my game, and I will own you in my own way for as long as I want."

Shock shot through her, and her thoughts swirled chaotically. She was still aware of the intensity of her arousal, of the passion they had just shared, and the idea that he had controlled all of it made her chest feel heavy.

"You’re not just another adventure for me," he added, his voice now deeper, more penetrating. "You’re part of something greater, and I won’t let you go so easily."

His words pierced her heart like a cold wind. She wanted to turn away, to flee from this web of manipulation, but a part of her was still trapped in the overwhelming desire he had unleashed in her.

"There’s no escape from this game, Y/N. You’re already a part of it," he murmured, his eyes glowing with conviction and power.

The reality of his words sank in, and as she tried to clear her thoughts, she knew deep down that what had happened between them wasn’t just a one-time event. Loki wasn’t an ordinary man; he was a god, and the manipulation he had exerted over her was just the beginning of a game she couldn’t win.

The darkness of his words enveloped her, and in that moment, she realized that she was caught in a game where Loki alone made the rules.

[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

[mollywog]

Tomorrow

A prequel to Complicated (can be read as a stand alone) Set the night of the 74th Reaping

She’s wandering home when her ears perk at the sound of heavy footfall approaching. Silently slipping into the shadows along the path, a figure appears several paces in the direction of the still buzzing festivities. The light is low but the broad shoulders and blond waves unmistakably belong to Peeta Mellark. She watches with interest as he meanders alone. Though the path is clear and straight, his feet are unsteady.

She frowns: He’s drunk.

It’s not that surprising, half the kids their age are probably worse off than him, it’s the night of the Reaping after all. With her sister’s first reaping safely behind them, even she had stopped by the celebration, though she hadn’t had more than a sip of white liquor.

She and Peeta aren’t friends, they don’t even know each other really, but she still feels a twinge of disappointment at his current state. She’s always held him in higher regard than the other boys at school.

In the next step he stumbles; Unable to correct his footing in time, he tumbles to the ground, grunting as he lands. He rolls to his back and sits up, cursing under his breath as he inspects his knee.

“You alright?” she says, emerging from her hiding spot.

He startles at her voice, eyes widening as he spots her. “oh, Katniss, hey. I didn’t know you were there.” He pulls himself to his feet, wincing when he puts weight on his left leg.

“You okay?” She repeats, looking him over as she approaches; there’s a tear in his pants just below the knee, but she doesn’t see blood and he was able to stand on his own: all good signs.

“Ah, yeah, nothing hurt but my pride.”

“Good thing no one saw you.”

“You saw me.”

The usually confident boy looks bashful, and she wonders why he would care: She is no one, at least to him. “I won’t tell,” she says in reassurance. His lips upturn in a poor imitation of a smile and she scowls. “Promise,” she adds defensively.

At this, he shakes his head and laughs; unlike the smile, it’s genuine, “I believe you, Katniss.”

Her stomach swoops at the sound and she turns her head to conceal her own smile. “Well if you’re okay...” she trails off, not really wanting to leave, but not knowing what else to say.

“Could I walk with you for a bit? Make sure you get home safe?”

“Seems like you might be the one in need of an escort.”

He chuckles, “maybe so, but I can’t go home just yet… not like this.”

She frowns. Her parents would be none too pleased to see her in his state, but their lecture would be nothing compared to the back of Mrs. Mellark's hand. She shrugs her assent before turning towards the path, looking back to ensure that he follows.

It takes him a moment to register her response, when he does he jogs a few paces to catch up, “I don’t usually do this, you know?”

She doesn’t know: It must be written on her face because he continues, “Drink too much... or at all really,

She shrugs despite feeling a small bit relieved.

“Today was my brother’s last reaping; he wanted to celebrate and was feeling generous... I don’t know, I think he thought he was doing me a favor.”

“By giving you a hangover?” she raises a brow.

“Nah, he wanted me to loosen up. Relax enough so I’d talk to someone.”

She snorts.

“Hey, are you laughing at me?”

“I didn’t suppose you’d need help talking to anyone.”

“It’s a girl.”

Her heart sinks, “You talk to plenty a girls.”

“Not like this.”

She looks down at the plumes of dust her boots kick up as she walks. “So, did you? Talk to her?”

He hums an affirmation.

“And how did it go?”

“Not very well I think. I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m a drunk… or an oaf, or a clod… probably all three.”

She frowns. A very small part of her thrills at this; Had he succeeded, he might be off with this girl right now rather than here with her. But the greater part of her feels his disappointment. “I’m sorry.”

He grimaces, “and now she pities me, so definitely not good.”

Her eyes go wide and snap to his as realization dawns.

“I should have known the first time we spoke I’d make a fool of myself,” he adds as if in confirmation.

“Me?” Giddy laughter bubbles up, until a breathy giggle escapes.

He groans, “you’re laughing at me? This keeps getting better.”

“Not at you. I’m just… surprised?”

“You know what; Nevermind. Can we just… forget it?”

But she doesn’t want to forget…

Back when she was eleven, her father had been terribly ill but determined to return to work, her mother disagreed. Her parents had argued that night; they never did that. The fight ended with her mother conceding and making their evening tea. But what her father hadn’t known was that she’d added a double dose of sleep syrup to his cup. He slept straight through his shift, only waking when the siren’s had sounded all across town. A section of the mine had collapsed and a number of his crew had been lost along with it, but thanks to her mother’s deception, her father had not been among them.

She’d watched the families that hadn’t been as lucky as hers struggle that winter: some driven to the bottle, others to Cray, and worse still were the children sent to the community home; their neighbors unable or unwilling to help.

She had been among the helpless crowd until the day she noticed the baker’s youngest son sneaking rolls to the starving children that begged at the merchants’ back doors, despite his mother’s ire.

His kindness had taught her that even at eleven she was not powerless to help. As someone who could depend on two meals at home, she had begun forfeiting her lunches to the children at school who had none. Her father too had taken notice, offering guidance and foraging knowledge to any who dared venture past the fence. It was imperfect but it wasn’t nothing.

Ever since that day, she’s kept an eye on Peeta Mellark with a growing fondness she never imagined he could return.

But he does. She doesn’t doubt his sincerity; those years of watching have only strengthened her certainty of his goodness.

They walk in silence for half a minute as she gathers her courage, “So what was your plan? Before your brother decided to help?”

He sighs, “I don’t know. Offer to walk you home, minus falling on my face. Talk about something other than what a fool I am; like our favorite colors or the best time of year to visit the meadow. And by the time we made it to your door, if all had gone well, ask if you’d want to do it again sometime…”

“That sounds nice.”

“What would you have said?”

“Hmm?”

“What if I had asked you out? If things had gone… better than this, do you think you might have considered it?”

They’ve stopped in front of her porch and she stares up at the house to find it quiet and dark: same as the rest of the street. “One minute. Wait here,” she bids instead of answering his question. Ducking in the house, she silently sorts through her mother’s jars until she finds what she’s looking for, measuring and parceling the herbs with practiced hands, the familiarity helping to steady her nerves.

Reemerging, she’s relieved to find him still there. “Make a tea with this tomorrow,” she says as she hands him the packet, “in the meantime drink plenty of water. It should help the headache that’s coming.”

“Sure thing Doctor Everdeen,” he gives a half hearted smile, “thank you.”

He turns to walk away, but her hand shoots out to stop him, landing on his arm, firm and warm under her fingers. His eyes flit from her hand to her face, holding her stare. Her heart flutters, “What if you ask me tomorrow?”

His brows knit together before shooting to his hairline, “yeah?”

She nods, and because the odds have been in her favor so far today, she pops up to her toes, kissing his cheek, “see ya tomorrow Peeta.”

Complicated | What If

[maybe-im-dark]

Night lessons

After the events of Deadpool and Wolverine, Logan decides to bond with his daughter and teach her in the ways of hunting

---------------------

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a silver glow over the forest. The trees stood tall, their branches swaying gently in the breeze, and the air was thick with the scent of pine and earth. Logan moved silently through the underbrush, every step careful, deliberate, barely making a sound. Behind him, Laura mirrored his movements, her small frame blending into the darkness, but Logan could still sense her hesitations, the way she paused with each snap of a twig, each rustle of the leaves.

They had been out here for hours, tracking the deer Logan had caught wind of earlier, and though Laura was doing well, he could tell she was holding back—trying too hard to be cautious, too afraid of losing control. He slowed his pace, letting her catch up, and when she stood beside him, her brown eyes shining in the moonlight, he gestured for her to stop.

“Why’d you hesitate back there?” Logan asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Laura glanced at him, frowning. “I didn’t want to scare it away. You said we need to be quiet.”

Logan nodded, crouching down and motioning for her to do the same. “Yeah, but you’re thinking too much. You’re trying to control every little thing. That’s not how it works, kid.”

Laura looked confused, tilting her head. “Then how do I do it?”

Logan let out a quiet sigh, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You gotta feel it. Let go of everything else and just listen to your instincts. They’ll guide you better than any lesson I could ever teach you.”

She stared at him, and for a moment, Logan saw himself in those eyes—the uncertainty, the fear of what lay beneath the surface. It was the same struggle he’d faced for so many years, the constant battle between man and beast. But he had learned something in all that time: sometimes, you had to embrace the beast to find your way forward.

“Close your eyes,” Logan instructed. “Just trust me.”

Laura hesitated, but she nodded and shut her eyes, her body tense as she waited for him to continue.

“Now breathe. Focus on the sounds around you, the smells. Let it all wash over you.”

Laura took a deep breath, and Logan watched as her shoulders relaxed, her senses sharpening. He could see it—the way her nostrils flared, catching the scent of the deer they’d been tracking, the way her ears twitched, picking up the soft rustling of leaves far ahead of them.

“There you go,” Logan murmured, a hint of pride creeping into his voice. “You’re getting it.”

“But… how do I know where it is?” Laura asked, her eyes still closed.

“You’ll feel it,” Logan replied. “Your instincts will tell you when you’re close, when it’s time to move. Trust them.”

Laura’s brow furrowed, but she nodded, her breathing steady. They sat there for a few more moments, and then, without warning, she stood, her eyes snapping open. Logan watched as she moved forward, silent and fluid, every step taken with purpose. Her head tilted slightly, nostrils flaring, and she adjusted her path, zeroing in on the scent of their prey.

Logan followed behind, letting her lead, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. She moved like a shadow, like a predator who had finally found its place in the darkness. And when they reached the clearing, there it was—a young deer, grazing by the edge of a small stream, oblivious to the danger lurking just beyond the treeline.

Laura crouched low, her muscles coiled, ready to strike, but she hesitated, glancing back at Logan for reassurance. He met her gaze and gave a small nod.

“Remember,” he whispered. “Feel it.”

She took another breath, eyes locked on the deer, and in that moment, Logan saw the shift—the way her posture changed, the way her fingers curled, claws unsheathing with a soft snikt. It was a transformation he knew all too well, one that spoke of hunger, of power, of the feral instinct that ran through both their veins.

Laura moved, swift and silent, and before the deer even realized it was being hunted, she was on it. One clean strike, and it was over. The deer collapsed, and Laura stood over it, chest heaving, her eyes wide, wild with adrenaline.

Logan stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You did good, kid.”

Laura blinked up at him, the excitement still sparking in her eyes, but there was something else there, too—something softer. “I… I felt it, Logan. I felt everything.”

Logan nodded, his voice gruff but warm. “That’s ’cause you stopped thinking and let yourself be what you are.”

“An animal,” Laura murmured, almost to herself.

Logan squeezed her shoulder gently. “Yeah. And that’s not a bad thing. Not when you can control it. You did that tonight. You used it. You didn’t let it use you.”

Laura stared at the deer, then back up at Logan. “Will it always be like this?”

Logan’s expression softened, and he crouched down so he was eye-level with her. “It’s not always easy. But you’re not alone in this. You’ve got me, and you’ve got yourself. And that’s enough.”

For a moment, Laura just stood there, taking in his words. Then, she nodded, her chin lifting with a newfound confidence. “Okay.”

Logan smiled, a rare, genuine smile that lit up his face. “C’mon. Let’s take this back to the cabin. You earned it.”

As they made their way back through the forest, Logan watched Laura walk ahead, her steps lighter, more assured. She was learning, adapting, and for the first time, Logan felt hope—hope that she would find her own way, her own balance between the human and the animal.

Because in the end, they weren’t just predators. They were survivors.

[constellationguy]

Curl Care

Photo from Pinterest

I know this was second place in the poll but I’m feeling self indulgent. Hope you enjoy! ❤️

Today was just like every other day in the salon. Clients were chatty, some border line bitchy but this is hell, so that’s a common trait.

Woman came and go, some getting their hair cut, others dyed, and some even permed. And just as the clock struck 3pm in pentagram city your last client of the day walked in.

“Good evening Miss Walker.” You said politely. Miss Walker was a not so nice woman that died in the 70’s and got her hair regularly permed.

“Come sit for a moment while I go get my supplies from the back room.” You told Miss Walker.

“Come back fast, you don’t get payed to lollygag,” she spat at you. Always the micromanager she is.

Going into the back room you took some deep breaths, the last few you could take before having to smells perm chemicals for the next 3 hours. Once you gathered yourself you put your smile back on your face and brought the rolling tray of foils, rods, and the perm solution.

“Alright Miss Walker, you just want your usual correct?” You asked.

“No, I want a Mohawk. Of course I want my usual! Stupid girl.” Always a charm she is.

“Well let’s get started,” you said with a sigh putting your gloves on.

As you started on Miss Walker’s hair the bell on the front door rang indicating a customer walked in. You tried to not pay much mind to it though, you just needed to get through this perm as fast as possible.

“Good afternoon sir, do you have an appointment with one of our stylists today?” your coworker Sarah asked.

“Oh no. I was hoping you could recive a walk in.” A familiar voice responded to your coworker.

“In that cause I can take you, if you could just follow me-”

“Well I was hoping to see Y/n, if she is working today that is.”

“Oh she’s currently busy with a client. I can do your hair sir.”

“Oh I insist. You said she was here yes? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind switching clients with her if you just ask.” The voice got louder as it presumably came closer to your styling room as well as the trailing sound of hurried heels of your coworker following close behind.

“Oh there you are,” the familiar voice spoke from behind you.

When you looked up into the mirror in front of you, you saw Alastor.

“Alastor! What brings you back around these parts?” You asked cheerfully, not stopping your task of doing Miss Walker’s hair.

“I was hoping you could accept me as a walk in, I have an important meeting tomorrow you see.” Alastor replied.

“Oh no you don’t! I had to wait a month for this appointment. You don’t just get to cut the line-” Miss Walker erupted, only stopping when she looked up from her phone to see the radio demon looking at her through the mirror.

“What was that? Care to say that to me again?” Alastor asked as his static popped extra loudly in the room.

“Okay! Yes I can take you Al. Let me just relocate Miss Walker to Sarah’s room down the hall.” You said trying it cut the tension.

Alastor snapped his fingers and Miss Walker as well as anything that would have signified she was here vanished. With a light hum Alastor whipped down the styling chair then sat down.

“It’s good to see you too Alastor.” You laughed lightly.

“Oh of course my dear.” He replied.

“Could you tell me what we are doing with your hair today?” You asked calmly while you started to inspect his hair.

“Well my dear, during my sabbatical I haven’t been taking good care of these retched locks I have but I must look presentable for tomorrow’s meeting.”

“Oh don’t say that Al, you make me sad. I love your hair. I honestly think you wear your hair straight to upset me sometimes.” You huffed.

“Well isn’t that a funny thought,” Alastor laughed.

“Well if my hair being straight makes you so sad you can make it curly again, can’t you?” Alastor promoted.

“Of course I can,” you were smiling so wide and could have jumped out of your skin with joy. Alastor’s curls were the most beautiful things to you. His curls complimented his eye and face shape and his hair was slightly rough but still very soft, you lived for doing Alastor’s hair.

“I’m sure I have a suitable hair mask here somewhere… Remind me do you have a preference of ingredients?” You asked Alastor while rummaging through your product drawer.

“Whatever you think is most proper dear, just not to scented if you could.” Truthfully Alastor didn’t mind what you put in his hair, you’ve done his hair enough to trust you know what you’re doing.

“This one should do. Do you care to take a sniff or look at the ingredients?” You asked again.

“No dear, I trust you.” Alastor replied. You had a feeling he did but hearing him say that made your heart swell with pride.

Before putting on the hair mask you applied a bit of hair oil to Alastor’s scalp and rubbed in it. Taking a generous amount of the hair mask from the container, you warmed the product through your hands for a few seconds before applying it to Alastor’s hair. Alastor’s shoulders stiffened slightly but gradually relaxed as you massaged the product through his hair.

“And won’t you look at that! Your curls sure are resilient Al, look at them sprouting already.” You smiled gleefully.

“That’s quite the smile you have there chérie.” Alastor teased.

“Of course I’m smiling! How could I not when seeing your hair curly makes me so happy.”

“I’m glad I could be of service to you my dear,” Alastor replied to you with a dopey smile similar to yours.

“Your curls are just so unique to you and seeing you with curly hair like mine makes me prideful, not only in my styling abilities about also how my hair looks.” The room fell into a comfortable silence as you two admired each other’s smiles, what a perfect feeling this was.

“Look at that! All curly now!” You smiled brightly as you put your hands in Alastor’s hair and lightly shook his curls. Alastor laughed lightly at you.

“I think you’ve had enough fun dear,” Alastor teased.

“Alright, alright. Let’s go wash this out.” You said while you pat Alastor’s shoulder’s as he got up.

You took Alastor to the tallest sink, the one that had a step stood behind the basin for the stylists. Alastor always shortly laughed when he saw your step stool.

Washing Alastor’s hair was always a relaxing experience for the both of you. You enjoyed playing with his hair and he enjoyed the scalp massage, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

After you washed all the product out of Alastor’s hair you brought him back to your styling chair.

“So you want your curls to look the best for tomorrow yes?” You asked.

“Correct.” Alastor replied.

“You still have that bonnet I gave you yes?” You asked Alastor while you searched for the right curl cream.

“Of course I do, you would be rather cross with me if you had to get me another one,” Alastor rolled his eyes in fake annoyance.

“Perfect. You will sleep with it on tonight to preserve these curls okay?” You told Alastor.

“Oh course dear,” he jokingly scoffed at you.

After warming up the curl cream in your hands you evenly distributed it through his hair, taking out the strands that were naturally falling out as you lightly raked through his hair. After a little scrunching to Alastor’s face framing curls you started to diffuse his hair.

You could tell Alastor was a little wary about the diffuser because you haven’t used it on him before so you briefly explained what it did before you started.

“This handy dandy hair dryer will help your curls dry in place, are you willing to give it a shot or would you prefer to just let your hair air dry?” You asked thoughtfully.

It didn’t take too long to diffuse his hair but when you were done Alastor didn’t get out of the chair for some time.

“What do you think Al?” You asked gleefully.

“It looks perfect chérie, thank you for taking the time for me,” Alastor said.

“Of course I would, nothing makes me happier.” You smiled brightly.

Just as Alastor was going to leave after paying you had to tell him one last thing.

“Oh! And don’t forget you can drop by tomorrow before your meeting if you want me to fix your hair.”

Alastor stopped momentarily to face you and replied, “We’ll see what tomorrow brings chérie,” then left out the door, leaving the bell to ring behind him.

[thelazyhermits]

One scene that, for a while now, I've been wanting to write is one where Yuu talks to Trey following the library discussion in Book 1 since there's something about the Trey & Riddle dynamic that I've never really seen explored that I personally think played a big role in Trey's reluctance to stop Riddle, even though it was never really mentioned in canon, meaning this is just my HC.

After being inspired by the first TWST novel, I decided to finally write that scene and share my HC, all of which will be underneath the cut.

Also, for those unfamiliar with my writing, my Yuu is female. I'm mentioning that cause her gender gets mentioned once at the end of the drabble, so those who prefer to read G/N readers may not be interested in this particular drabble.

For those who do decide to read this drabble, I hope y'all enjoy it! 😊

Once it’s decided that both Ace and Deuce will challenge Riddle for leadership of the Heartslabyul dorm, Crowley takes his leave, so he can get the paperwork prepared for tomorrow’s duels.

The rest of you also soon disperse, with Trey heading in the direction of the Hall of Mirrors while the rest of you head for Ramshackle dorm since Ace and Deuce obviously don’t want to go back to their dorm after the unpleasant events of today’s unbirthday party.

Or at least, you start to head in the direction of your dorm before having a last minute change of heart since there’s something you really need to get off your chest that you don’t think you can afford to put off to a later time.

That’s why you tell Grim, Ace, and Deuce to go on ahead and that you’ll catch up with them after you take care of something, catching them all by surprise.

In order to avoid getting questioned by them, you immediately run off after you let them know that you have something you need to do.

Thankfully, they don’t chase after you since the conversation you’re about to have is one that would be better without an audience.

Moving as fast as you can, you hurry toward the direction of the Hall of Mirrors, and much to your relief, a few minutes later, you catch sight of the person you’re looking for.

“Trey-senpai!”

Upon hearing you call out to him, Trey, who had been walking with his head down and his shoulders hunched, jolts before turning to look at you in surprise. “Yuu?”

After taking a moment to catch your breath once you come to a stop before him, you make sure no one else is around before bluntly asking, “You’re not actually afraid of Riddle-senpai and his Unique Magic, are you?”

Trey stares at you with noticeable surprise, obviously caught off guard by your question. “Huh?”

“Earlier, when Ace was condemning you for your inaction, I stayed quiet since I pretty much agreed with everything he said.” You remark, “With the exception of him accusing you of being afraid of Riddle-senpai ‘cause I know you’re not.”

You look Trey dead in the eye. “You’re not afraid OF him. You’re afraid FOR him, ‘cause you don’t want him to suffer ‘cause of whatever decisions you make, like what happened in the past.”

Flinching, as if he’s been hit, a wide-eyed and now noticeably pale Trey takes an unconscious step back as he asks, “H-How…? Did Che’nya…?”

Your expression softens upon seeing his visceral reaction, which proves just how profoundly impacted Trey had been by the visit Riddle’s mother made to his family’s bakery after she found out about her son sneaking out behind her back when Riddle and Trey were children.

Of course, you’re not surprised, considering how frightened Trey had been when you saw that particular memory of Riddle’s past. The bespectacled boy was on the verge of tears just like Riddle, not that you can blame them, since any child would’ve been terrified after seeing Riddle’s angry mother, who really should’ve known better than to look so threatening while children were present.

Upon remembering how scared those two kids had been in your last dream, you have to take a quick, deep breath to rein in your anger since the last thing you want is to lash out at Trey when that anger should only be directed at that woman, whom you’d love nothing more than to challenge to a cage match despite your usual aversion to them.

Once you’ve taken a moment to collect yourself, you finally answer Trey’s question. “This will probably be really hard for you to believe, but since the night Ace got collared, I’ve been having these dreams that show me Riddle-senpai’s memories. Don’t ask me how or why ‘cause I have absolutely no idea. Something like this has never happened to me before.”

Trey’s eyes grow even wider. “You saw Riddle’s memories? Seriously?”

Nodding, you proceed to reel off all the memories you’ve witnessed the last two nights, which mostly consisted of all the intense study sessions Riddle had with his mother, although last night you also saw some memories involving Trey and Che’nya.

When you recall the last memory you saw before you woke up this morning, you frown, “Before I woke up, I saw a memory of you and Che’nya-san bringing Riddle-senpai to your family’s bakery ‘cause you wanted Riddle-senpai to get the chance to try a strawberry tart, which was something he had been admiring from afar for a while since his mother told him that eating one would be like eating poison.”

As Trey’s posture noticeably stiffens, you continue, “At first, I really enjoyed the memory since you all looked so happy, and it was nice seeing Riddle-senpai smiling so much and enjoying that strawberry tart with all his heart, but…”

Your frown deepens. “Then, I took notice of the clock on the wall and realized that he was gonna be late getting back to his house ‘cause he got so caught up in enjoying the tart. I immediately began to panic ‘cause I didn’t know what his mother would do if she found out what he had been doing with you guys, but sadly, there was nothing I could do to change a moment from the past.”

“Even worse, I woke up before I could see the fallout of Riddle-senpai getting home late.” You grimace, “And it gave me this strong sense of foreboding, which was pretty accurate, considering how today’s unbirthday party turned out.”

While Trey nods in agreement, wearing a grimace of his own, you inform, “After we left the party, we ran into Che’nya-san who told us to talk to you about Riddle-senpai. While Grim and the others went on ahead after Che’nya-san gave that advice and seemingly disappeared, I stuck around, so I could try to get more info outta him since I had a feeling he hadn’t actually left the area.”

“I wanted to know if the reason you two weren’t trying to stop Riddle-senpai was related to what happened after that bakery visit ‘cause the two kids I got to know after watching Riddle-senpai’s memories were the type of people who would’ve tried to stop him by now rather than let him continue down the dangerous road he’s currently on.” You continue, “Obviously, something had happened between what happened in that last memory and recent events, and it changed you and Che’nya-san and how you both act around Riddle-senpai.”

“Of course, Che’nya-san wouldn’t give me a straight answer.” You huff, “Instead, after he found out about the weird dreams I’ve been having, he suggested that I take a cat nap, so I could see for myself what happened next since that’s the only way I’d really understand.”

Trey weakly chuckles, “Typical Che’nya….”

“Since I really didn’t have any better ideas, I followed his advice and took a nap while we were waiting for you at the library.” You reveal, “And amazingly enough, I did have a follow up memory dream that showed me what happened to Riddle-senpai after his mother found out what he had been doing every day during his independent study time.”

“That’s how I know about how she punished him and took away what little freedom he had, which meant he could no longer see you and Che’nya-san.” You quietly add, all the while cursing that woman in your heart for all the pain you had to witness Riddle endure, because she treated her son more like a prized show dog she was grooming rather than an actual human child with thoughts and feelings of his own. 

Trey winces, “I see…”

Averting his gaze, Trey drags a hand through his hair before sighing, “You were right earlier. I’m not afraid of getting collared, not really. I’m afraid that I’ll cause Riddle even more suffering, even though I rationally know that he’ll suffer regardless of what I do.”

“I just…” He hesitates before releasing another, much heavier sigh. “I don’t want to make things even worse for him. He’s already gone through enough as it is…”

It’s just as you had guessed. Trey isn’t refraining from stopping Riddle simply because he’s afraid of rocking the boat and can’t bear to condemn the redhead when he knows exactly why his childhood friend acts the way he does, although those are factors at play here.

More than anything, Trey just can’t bring himself to take action, because, the last time he did that, Riddle paid the price, and Trey still can’t completely forgive himself for that.

Naturally, you can’t allow Trey to remain stuck in such a foolish mindset.

Catching him completely off guard, you quickly close the distance between the two of you and reach up to give his forehead a hard flick. “You big dummy. While Ace was right that you’re partially responsible for Riddle-senpai’s current behavior, you were NOT at all responsible for Riddle-senpai’s suffering back then. That responsibility fully rests on his mother’s shoulders.”

As his wide eyes look into yours, you firmly hold his gaze. “You and Che’nya-san did nothing wrong. On the contrary, I wanna commend you two for being the reasons for the only truly happy memories I got to see. In all of his memories that I saw, Riddle-senpai always looked the happiest when he was with you guys.”

“Yes, Riddle-senpai suffered a lot because he came into contact with you two, but I know he doesn’t regret meeting you guys, and if given the opportunity to go back in time, I bet he’d still choose to meet you two since his time with you guys was just that precious to him.” You continue, “Because, even if it came at a very high cost, the happiness you gave him was still worth it in the end.”

You can say that so confidently, because, if something like that had happened to you, whose childhood has some strong similarities to Riddle’s, that’s how you would’ve felt. 

No matter what kind of fallout you would’ve had to endure, you would’ve never regretted making friends and experiencing true kindness and care for the first time.

Because some things are just worth the pain. 

Trey’s surprised expression quickly becomes pained. “It’d be nice if that was the truth, but-”

“Tell me, is it just a coincidence that two childhood friends are the dorm and vice dorm leaders of Heartslabyul, or did Riddle-senpai ask you to be his vice dorm leader?” You ask, cutting him off before he could finish his sentence.

Appearing both surprised and confused, Trey just stares for a moment before answering, “Riddle asked me to be his vice dorm leader after he became dorm leader.”

“And why did he ask you, of all people, to take that important position?” You raise an eyebrow. “Surely, it wasn’t just because you’re both childhood friends and because he wanted someone who could always play peacemaker between him and the other members of your dorm. Someone like Riddle-senpai wouldn’t pick someone for only reasons like that, right?”

Rather than give you an answer, Trey remains quiet. Whether it’s because Riddle never actually gave him a reason for asking him to be his vice dorm leader or because he doesn’t understand why you’re asking these types of questions, you’re not sure, but it doesn’t matter since you already know the answer to your question.

With a huff, you forcefully poke his chest. “The main reason Riddle-senpai appointed you over everyone else is obvious. He TRUSTS you, more than anyone.”

“And if he trusts you, that means he still cares about you, just as much as he did back when you were kids.” You reveal, “It means he doesn’t hold you at all responsible for what happened back then.”

“Because, if he did, he wouldn’t want you constantly by his side, now would he?” You knowingly ask.

Trey’s eyes grow large as his breath catches. “T-That’s…”

After a long pause, Trey releases a shaky breath as he hangs his head. “He really doesn’t blame me at all, does he? Despite everything…”

Your expression softens. “The only person he ever blamed was himself for breaking his mother’s rules and disappointing her. I never saw him blame anyone else, especially not you or Che’nya-san.”

“I wish I could say the same.” Trey bitterly mutters as he slowly shakes his head.

Briefly, you look at him with noticeable sympathy because of what he had to go through as a kid thanks to Riddle’s tyrant mother before you harden your features since you can’t afford to go soft on him now.

“If you feel this bad about past events, which weren’t even actually your fault, you’re only going to be even more miserable when Riddle-senpai endures even more suffering ‘cause of current events that you actually are largely responsible for, ‘cause you betrayed the trust he put in you by staying quiet.” You matter-of-factly state, making Trey flinch.

When he remains quiet and keeps his head lowered, you continue, “I understand your current thought process. You think that it’s better to do nothing than risk doing something that could potentially make his situation even worse, but you’re wrong - dead wrong.”

A deep frown forms on your face. “Because a guy who sits back and does nothing when his friend is obviously in need of his help is way worse than a guy whose actions cause trouble for his friend after he makes a genuine effort to help them.”

“I can guarantee that, if you continue as you are, you’ll come to greatly regret your inaction way more than you ever will anything else you could potentially do for Riddle-senpai.” You continue, “So I highly recommend that you take some time to seriously think about Riddle-senpai, who’s only going to continue spiraling, and what’s best for him.”

“And you should make that decision sooner rather than later ‘cause, right now, your dorm is a metaphorical house of cards that’s barely holding together.” You add, “At this point, I think all it’ll take is one strong enough breeze, and it’ll all come tumbling down, and Riddle-senpai will be the one who suffers the most from the fall.”

It’s at that moment Trey finally lifts his head and breaks his silence. “Why are you saying all this to me? I had thought you had approached me because you’re worried about Ace and Deuce and their situation with our dorm, but now, I’m not so sure. Now, it seems more like you’re actually concerned about Riddle, and I can’t figure out why since, unlike me, you have no reason to care about him.”

He scrutinizes you with his disbelieving, slightly suspicious eyes. “Surely, it’s not just because you took pity on him after seeing his past.”

Feeling slightly exasperated since he’s temporarily changing the subject so he can put off the conversation he obviously does not want to continue having with you, you huff, “Of course not. While I definitely felt empathetic after seeing his memories, I’m not acting out of pity. Unlike a certain someone I could name, I’m not the type who goes easy on people because I know about their tragic backstories.”

Rather than react to your verbal jab, Trey raises an eyebrow. “If that’s truly the case, what are your motivations then?”

After taking a moment to consider his question and find the right words to respond, you answer, “To put it simply, I just can’t bear to watch Riddle-senpai continue as he is ‘cause he reminds me a little too much of myself. It’s just too awkward and uncomfortable, and I’d really rather not have to deal with all that for the whole school year, you know?”

His eyes grow large. “He…reminds you of yourself…?”

Immediately, you can see the metaphorical cogs start turning in his head, and judging from his constantly shifting expressions, Trey’s definitely assuming the worst about your upbringing, which is understandable, considering what he knows about his childhood friend.

Obviously, you have no intention to actually tell your upperclassman about your abusive upbringing since that’s not a topic you’d ever want to willingly discuss, especially not with someone you hardly even know.

That’s why, before Trey can start asking questions, you give him a vague explanation that will hopefully be enough to satisfy him. “Like Riddle-senpai, I grew up in a metaphorical cage that didn’t allow me much freedom. I also dealt with lots of high expectations that weighed heavily on my shoulders.”

Regrettably, the high expectations you mention had nothing to do with someone thinking highly of you and your abilities. Instead, they were just Mumei’s expectations that you would continue to win your cage-fights and be a source of income for him since all you ever were to him was a tool to make money.

After quickly dismissing those depressing thoughts, you add, “Which is why I can understand where Riddle-senpai is coming from to a certain extent at least, even though our upbringings were overall quite different.” 

Thankfully, rather than try to pry further, Trey just watches you with noticeably sympathetic eyes, making you assume that he believes that you’re telling the truth. “I see…”

Since this really isn’t a topic you want to dwell on, you quickly try to get this conversation back on track. “One major difference between me and Riddle-senpai is that, in a hypothetical situation where the two of us were trapped in physical cages and said cages suddenly opened, I think I would be the only one who would actually try to escape after confirming that the coast was clear.”

The corners of your lips dip downward. “Considering how Riddle-senpai feels about rules, I think, if he was told that it was against the rules to leave that cage, he’d stay right where he was, even when his freedom was right in his grasp, because he would never dare to oppose his mother and her rules.” 

Trey’s expression becomes pained. “You’re probably right.”

Catching him by surprise, you say, “I think only one thing could possibly get Riddle-senpai to come out of that cage willingly.”

You look straight into his wide eyes. “And that’s you extending a hand to him. After all, that’s how you got him to leave his cage the first time, isn’t it?”

For several seconds, Trey just stares. “That’s…”

“I know this isn’t as easy as me and Ace make it sound, but it’s a fact that YOU need to do something, Trey-senpai.” You remark, “Because, as much as I’d like to help someone get out of their cage after having finally escaped mine by coming to this school, it’s not me that Riddle-senpai needs. It’s YOU. In his current state, YOUR hand is the only one he’ll take.”

Letting your voice soften, you request, “So please help him out of that lonely cage that’ll only cause him even more suffering the longer he remains in it. Help him before it’s too late to reach out your hand to him.”

Shoulders slumping, Trey tries to hide his current, distressed expression behind one of his hands. “I…”

Deciding to take pity on him since you’d like to think you’re not as bad as Ace, you reach over to comfortingly pat his shoulder. “I’m not asking you to make a decision right this very minute. All I wanted was for you to take my concerns seriously, and by the looks of it, you are, so I’m willing to leave it at that.”

“Because I’m apparently more of a busybody than I thought, I just couldn’t leave you alone ‘til I said my piece, and now that I have, I’m gonna back off since, in the end, it really is none of my business what you do.” You remark before you pull your hand away from him. 

As an afterthought, you add, “Although, I really do wanna do something about the whole tyrant dorm leader situation you got going on at your dorm since, if Riddle-senpai stays as he is, I might end up having to permanently take care of Ace and Deuce at my dorm like I do Grim, and I’d really rather not have to deal with any additional troublesome responsibilities being put on my shoulders.”

Trey’s posture relaxes as he snorts, “That does sound like it’d be tough, so I can’t blame you for feeling that way.”

“I really am sorry for all of this.” Trey sincerely apologizes, after he pulls his hand away from his face, like he did earlier at the library when you and your friends first confronted him about Riddle. “I feel bad for getting you involved in my dorm’s troublesome situation when you've already got enough on your plate as it is by being the school’s sole female magicless student, which I’m sure can’t be easy.”

Catching you by surprise, Trey reaches over to gently pat your head, making you immediately remember that he has younger siblings, whom you had found out about when you saw Riddle’s memory about his visit to Trey’s family’s bakery, since Trey's current actions really make him look like a big brother.

“And thank you.” Trey smiles in the kind of genuine way you’ve only seen in Riddle’s memories. “For looking out for Riddle. Not many people would be willing to do that for obvious reasons, so I really appreciate it.”

Completely unaccustomed to being on the receiving end of warm gestures like this, all you can do is stare.

Meanwhile, Trey continues, “That’s why I intend to take your concerns seriously since it’s the least I can do, even though I honestly still don’t know what’s the best thing for me to do for Riddle.”

His smile becomes sheepish as he pulls his hand away from your head. “Sorry, I’m sure that’s not what you wanted to hear after going through the trouble of reaching out to me.”

“It’s fine.” You shrug after overcoming your earlier surprise. “I figured things would turn out like this since this is something you need to give a lot of thought toward. I would’ve been more surprised if you had changed your mind and agreed to convince Riddle-senpai to stop being a tyrant.”

“As long as you’re taking me seriously and not dismissing the legitimate concerns I brought up, I’m satisfied.” You add, “That’s about all I can ask of you, considering our current circumstances.”

Holding up a hand in parting, you turn to leave. “So, with that, I’ll take my leave since I don’t wanna leave Grim, Ace, and Deuce unsupervised at my dorm for too long. I’ll see you tomorrow for Ace’s and Deuce’s duels.”

“You know, I still think that the duels are a bad idea. Ace and Deuce don’t stand a chance against Riddle. Are you sure you shouldn’t talk them out of it before it’s too late?”

Pausing at Trey’s question, you reply, “I agree their chances of winning are low, but I have no intention of interfering since this is something they both really wanna do. There’s no talking them out of this now that they’ve got their hearts set on beating Riddle-senpai.”

Looking over your shoulder, you meet Trey’s worried gaze. “Besides, as I said earlier, inaction won’t solve anything; in this kinda situation, it’ll just cause more trouble in the long run, and those two both know that. They know they have to do SOMETHING. Otherwise, nothing will change.”

Although, I’d be lying if I said that I’m not worried about the possibility of things changing for the worse ‘cause of those duels. You think to yourself. Since literally anything could happen, and Riddle-senpai is currently like a ticking time bomb that could go off at any given moment.

When you find yourself thinking of Riddle's impending implosion, you wince. If that happens, we’ll all be in serious trouble...

Little did you know just how right you were.

[secretwhumplair]

Departure

741 words | No Warrior (sequel to Changing season)

Content | Existential insecurity I guess?, mention of pregnancy

Notes | The day has come. No not that day.

Taglist | @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @castielamigos-whump-side-blog​​ @whump-me-all-night-long​​​​ @whumpadump1939​​ @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight

@whumpzone​​ @angel-stars​​ @kixngiggles​​ @whumpsy-daisies @yet-another-heathen

@rosesareviolentlyread @cupcakes-and-pain @hollowtreesinhollowwoods @pleasancies @much-ado-about-whumping​​

@nine-tailed-whump​​ @whump-em​​​ @itsleighlove​​ @newbornwhumperfly​​​ @tears-and-lilies

@deluxewhump @whump-cravings @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning @neverthelass

@whumpsday @silent-orchid-lady @everynameistakencarrots

The whole village assembled at the pier to see the warriors off. It was a beautiful day, the sea almost blinding with sunlight, a firm but gentle breeze catching in Yves’ hair, now long enough to tickle his ears. He didn’t want to cut it, of course, he would suffer through the little inconvenience until it was long enough to tuck behind his ears properly.

He had come with Runar, and it felt strange, knowing that he would leave without him.

Runar hugged his family members, hugged Ingunn, who by now had a noticeable bump, and wished her well. She laughed, her eyes remaining serious. »Can’t wait to introduce you when you come back. Now go forth and bring them back something nice.«

Runar turned to Yves. His hug was as warm and secure as ever. It felt strange to think he’d be without it.

»Take care.«

»Come back.« Yves couldn’t stop the stupid words. He didn’t want to guilt Runar — this was what he did. This was the reason Yves had been saved.

Something heavy settled into his stomach. He had known the goodbye was coming, Runar had warned him, and of course there was no way he would be going with him. He didn’t want to go back, and he knew he couldn’t fight. Still, Runar had been taking care of him all this time, and now? Now he’d have to get by all by himself.

He squeezed Runar as hard as he could, knowing he couldn’t hurt him if he tried. He couldn’t let that stupid comment be the last he said to him. »Take care, too.«

»I will.« Runar squeezed him back more carefully, and for a moment, Yves thought he felt Runar’s heart race in his chest. He couldn’t be sure over the sound of his own.

Then Runar and the rest of the warriors boarded, ropes were loosened, and in the midst of much shouting and waving, the sail caught the favourable wind the elders had predicted for today.

They stood as the ship left. When it was out of earshot, the villagers started to leave. Yves stood still at the pier, his eyes still on the vessel gliding across the glittering waves. He barely noticed the crowd around him thinning.

It felt strange, watching the sail disappear on the horizon.

For the first time since… he was really without Runar. No one to come running when things went wrong; no one to run to.

A sudden, dizzying rush of panic washed through him, so fierce his vision swam, his breath caught in his throat. He was alone, and defenseless.

»Yves.« Someone touched his wrist; a cooler hand than Runar’s had ever been.

With some effort, he focused on Aslaug standing next to him. She said nothing more, as usual, just looked at him attentively.

He wasn’t alone. He was one of them. That was what Runar had said.

Now he’d find out if it would hold up.

He struggled to calm his breath. He was being pathetic. He wasn’t a child. He didn’t need to be looked after; wasn’t that what he had wished for, even months ago?

»It’s hard,« Aslaug said.

Yves simply nodded. »Thanks.«

She smiled, nodded back at him, then turned to leave.

When Yves followed her, he saw most of the others had already left. Signy’s spouses remained, but only because they had gotten distracted by one another; it must be nice to keep someone while their wife was at sea.

Yves looked away from their kisses and made his way back into the village as well.

* Runar looked back for as long as he could make out Yves’ little figure standing at the pier. He had said goodbye to his family many times, and they to him, but for Yves… it was different. He wasn’t surprised he remained for as long as Runar could see him.

He just hoped he wasn’t frozen in fear once more.

There was nothing he could do anymore. He had to hope what he had done so far — what Yves had managed so far — was enough.

Someone punched his shoulder.

»He’ll be okay,« Signy declared confidently. »He’s strong. And he’s been fine for months, to be honest. Stop worrying so much.«

»Excuse me? This could have been about Ingunn and the baby.«

Signy laughed. »Sure. Now come on, time to look forward.«

He chased her to the bow, and couldn’t help a laugh, himself.

[ilovehugslikealotalot]

okay, so, I was at a coffee Shop yesterday because I need that caffine and I’ve used my coffee machine within an inch of of its life. So…YEAH. I grabbed my coffee and was ready to go when this woman walks in and just looks me up and down and she was HOT. I was sweating guys 😭

She looked at my bracelet that I got for christmas and said, “That’s a gorgeous bracelet, hon” I SWEAR I COULD’VE ASCENDED INTO HEAVEN. Ofc I told her where the bracelet’s from and the brand. Then she said, “Thank you, you sweet thing. It’s perfect for this birthday party I have to go to”

*faints*

AND SHE KINDA LOOK FAMILIAR SO MAYBE I’LL SEE HER AROUND MY TOWN IS SMALL SO…😜

[orcelito]

Guys I think the writing for fire emblem engage is somehow worse than fire emblem fates. Im a longtime fire emblem fan, I've played every recent game, and this... this is just Awful lmfao

Im still having plenty of fun & I have my handful of characters I love soooo much. But God fucking damn this writing is just some of the worst I've ever seen in a game

(Major spoilers in tags. Ran out of tags so I can't spoiler tag hfkshfj.

Final conclusion (since I ran out of tags): What Even Is This Fucking Game. Definitely my least favorite fire emblem game in many respects, but By God I'm going to finish this bitch and I'm gonna have plenty of fun as I do so. And I'm also going to make fun of every narrative choice it makes along the way bc the writing in this game is just SO fucking bad holy shit. I just need to finish this game and get on with my life already. God fuckin damn.)

[iceunhie]

— KISSES OR KISSES? : honkai star rail

premise. testing out your new lipstick is no fun (normally), so what better way to make use of it by kissing your lover senseless? not to mention, leaving a little something behind.... (aka, lipstick kisses with them.)

ft. blade, dan heng, boothill, dr. ratio, aventurine !

warnings: feminine reader! reader is ultimately genderless but you may interpret this as fem!reader if you want, reader wears lipstick. nicknames hehe, boothill is his own warning, mid writing tbh, unedited

a/n. the lipstick trend does not escape me at all 😞😞 but this consumed me so now i write about it ijbol

MAIN MASTERLIST || PART 2 (sunday, jing yuan, gallagher, sampo, gepard.)

“what are you doing?”

BLADE ceases all functions. like, immediately.

you'd think he'd even stopped breathing once he'd felt the soft sensation of your lips on his, and the pretty sight of the normally aloof stellaron hunter covered in multiple lipstick kisses all over his face to his neck nearly makes the rest of his other comrades keel over from laughter. his silence is indicative of his rather unusual state of shock, the only indication a menacing furrow of his brows (to an outsider, they'd think he's plotting a murder spree, but you know him too well for that) that twitch and simultaneously react the more you kiss him everywhere on the face.

silverwolf will then relay to you that blade walked around for nearly 5 system hours covered in your... marks of ownership, kafka helpfully supplies, and was only made aware when firefly accidentally bumped into him, face exploding in red when she saw the audacious sight of blade covered in your lipstick. “er, blade.... your face is...”

—

blade has never known mortification quite like today, but the intense feeling of something akin to shame is vivid as he stares at himself in the mirror, glaring.

his face is a mess, to put it simply. trailing a hand on the red stains your lips left on to him leaves him with a smudged countenance, furthering the utter chaos that is his kiss-ridden face.

“...ridiculous girl.” avoiding the uncharacteristic way his fingertips feel hot, blade reckons this is probably why firefly stopped dead in her tracks and gaped, stared, and flustered.

clever as you were, and with your equal penchant for mischief, blade, the ever unsuspecting lover he is (he doesn't normally allow anyone to touch him, but you're not just anyone) had easily become the target of your new tricks.

“pfft, nice get-up, old man. got yourself a good day?”

....so that's what silverwolf meant.

DANHENG immediately scolds you, but not in the serious way he normally does whenever stelle wants to eat an origami bird or dives into trashcans or when march accidentally destroys one of the archive books, but in a way that only dan heng ever shows you. he's red, painfully red, and is struggling to face you because he knows that the smug grin you're holding has to do with the sight he'd glimpsed himself to be in moments prior.

unfortunately for him, for all his ways of trying fervently to remove the lipstick stains plastered all over his face, it only took march one look and a melodramatic gasp before the entire express knew, the conductor included.

—

“dan heng and [name], sitting on a tree-”

“k-i-s-s-i-n-g~”

my friends are all senile, dan heng thinks, rolling his eyes while avoiding himeko's friendly (read: eerie) smile. and he's already given up on trying to meet welt's eyes. (read: concerned but not surprised)

the reason? the rouge tinted matte lipstick generously spread all over dan heng's face, slightly smudged and spanning from his cheeks to his lips, nearing his neck.

he'd never tell, but a part of him—one that was reptilian in nature, a primal need of possessiveness—adored the show of affection you showered upon him. it was only right—he was yours, and you were his.

welt is sheepish, coughing lightly that all five heads of the express members turn to him (pom-pom included) “dan heng, is that your tail wagging?”

“....”

“....”

“....”

(a resounding click! can be heard afrerwards. oh, dan heng is so going to steal march's camera.)

the loud whir of BOOTHILL’s cooling system can't even keep up with how fast he's overheating, because one thing led to another and one look you gave made him weak in the knees and now his body is covered in your kisses, scarlet against the metal gray of his limbs. he no longer has a heart, but the rapid feeling of heat emitted by his body speaks more about his current mental state in more ways than one—he can't even form words because his brain chip is practically glitching itself up into overdrive, because your lips were so warm, soft and gentle and—

“...oothill? boothill? your circuits are—”

a startling sound that sounds just like a mini explosion reverberates somewhere in the tangle of wires near boothill's power source.

oh dear.

( p.s: no warp trotters were harmed, rest assured )

“[name]...” AVENTURINE’s voice falters when you press a soft kiss near his forehead, your lover closing his eyes as he lets out a soft sigh of joy — a bit like a peacock preening... but in any case! he certainly sees no argument being swayed by you, his dignity in shambles, yes, but when you were showering him with affection like this (which, in all honesty, aventurine did not think he deserved) leaves in in a flushed and tattered mess of a man, whose strings are wholly puppeteered by you and you alone.

you are everything; and aventurine certainly can't get enough. (he doubts if enough will even be enough someday) he's the lover who'd proudly want to flaunt such salacious marks everywhere, though his craftily built reputation as a stoneheart—blood sweat and commodity code and all—leaves him to hide your marks on him, as much as he'd like them to stay. (you are a weakness that aventurine keeps like an oath, and an existence that he'd do anything to keep.)

that doesn't, however, stop him from getting you to leave a kiss near his collar, discreet enough to signal his status as irrevocably, undeniably yours.

DR. VERITAS RATIO is actually the most calm and most normal (read: boring) of all the men above when barraged by your kiss attack. letting out a tsk that's more chiding and speeachless than actually annoyed, he casually pulls you away from his face, nevermind his rapidly heating cheeks, which is only made more humorous given his lipstick stained face.

“stop that. you're making too much of a mess of me, fool.” <- is visibly leaning to your face to allow said actions. you're not fooling anyone here, doctor. smh.

however, he does get pretty flustered when a certain blond gambler notes the new addition of a ‘tattoo’ right near his lower lip. “wow, doctor. seems you woke up on the good side of the bed today.”

he spends a whole day scolding you hoarse afterwards, whatever that may entail ;).

(as a way of petty revenge, he will make sure to kiss you senseless right after, until he's sure his own lips are swollen and covered in the warm red of your chosen shade.)

a/n: blog is running on queue as of today, so this post will probably come wayyy overdue lol but hope u enjoy nonetheless!

@ ICEUNHIE: do not repost translate or plagiarize my works.

[theglamorousferal]

Immortal Everlasting Trio who have been exploring the Infinite Realms for the last few centuries. The three of them are flying, braiding their paths as they make their way through the Realms.

“How do you think Ellie is doing in her current incarnation?” Nightshade asks of her partners,

“Hmm probably well, she was exploring the galaxy this time right? I could always check?” Pharaoh responds, a keyboard made of sandstone appears at his fingertips.

“She feels content.” Said Phantom, soothing the worries of the other two. The stars that are freckles on his face brighten with the comment.

They swirl around each other in lazy patterns, unknowing of the passage of time, when Phantom feels a tug at his core. The trio circle up, his partners noticing the shift in mood.

“I don’t recognize this one.” He mutters to himself, placing a hand on the center of his chest. “It’s none of the family, but it is a bit familiar.” He furrowed his brow, trying to trace the sensation to its source. He closed his eyes and felt the pull of magic. “It doesn’t feel malicious, there’s desperation and curiosity for sure, but I feel no ill intent.” He thought for a moment. “I’m going to follow it. I want to know why this feels familiar”

Nightshade formed a purple bloom and tucked it behind one of his ears and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Be safe.”

Pharaoh gently took his hand and kissed it, bestowing a glass bangle to his wrist. “Don’t make stupid decisions,” he smirked, “without us.”

Phantom laughed and in a flash of bright white light he was gone.

* * *

With a flash of light so bright it temporarily blinded, Phantom appeared in a summoning circle. The room he now occupied was large, a massive sofa made up a good portion of the room and there was a kitchen off to the side. Turning around, there was a large screen with even larger windows behind it. He turned back and now saw the people in the room.

One was green with a unitard on, one was sitting criss cross in front of some candles, a book and a small cauldron, one was floating and had a mass of bright pink hair, one was a cyborg of some kind and stood at the ready with a cannon for an arm and the last was shielding his eyes with a black cape.

“Who summons me?” Phantom asked in a far quieter tone than the teens apparently expected.

The one who appeared to have done the ritual stood and spoke first. “Mighty Phantom, we seek your assistance in dealing with a massive threat to our world. The demon Trigon looks to the Earth as his next conquest.” They took a breath and looked down. “He intends to use my power to do it, and I do not have the strength to stop him.”

Phantom settled his feet on the ground and placed a hand on their shoulder. “Peace young one. Why don’t we start with introductions? As you know, I am Phantom, he/him, now who has managed to summon me?”

“I am Raven, she/her, the rest here are my team the Teen Titans.” She turned to her team, they all seemed shocked. “I apologize for them, usually they take things in stride a lot easier. This is Beast Boy, he/him, Starfire she/her, Cyborg, he/him, and Robin, he/him.”

“Hmm, may I see the text you used to summon me?” He gestured to the book on the floor. “I was not aware of anything that could summon me in this realm. It is familiar to me though, I can’t place why.”

Raven raised the book into his hand. He leafed through it humming to himself before stopping on a photo of a note that looked familiar. He smiled to himself, remembering the time a century ago to him that himself and his partners helped a small civilization and they left a way for the leader to contact them if they needed help. He skimmed the next few paragraphs and then laughed and closed the book.

“I’ll help. In fact, my partners and I will help. It’s been a long while since we were in a mortal realm. I will return in a week’s time your time to discuss what we need to do. This will work to summon us if we forget or if your danger arrives early.” He magicked a paper with a seal on it and handed it to her. “I must discuss with my partners and will do research on this Trigon. Thank you for calling us, we’ve been aimless for too many decades. Have a good night.” He vanished in another flash of light.

* * *

Phantom appeared in a flash of light cackling as he tumbled across the chess board his partners were playing on, scattering the flowers and sandstone pieces across the green sky.

“Beloved you know not to do that,” Nightshade gathered the giggling king into her lap, Pharaoh moving to lean against her shoulder and push the hair from the eyes of Phantom, “but what has you laughing so?”

Phantom mimed wiping a tear from his eye. “Remember that civilization we helped out a century ago? Well apparently a few hundred years have passed in that world and the people we helped revered us as gods. A sorceress summoned us for help defeating a demon. They were so cute, little teenage heroes like we once were.” He sighed and settled into the arms of his lovers. “Have either of you heard of Trigon?”

[thestuffedalligator]

When ogres travel, they do so in human shape.

They hate doing this. They think it’s beneath them. But they do it anyway.

The Vicomte Graoul de Saucisson – and this is another thing about ogres. Ogres as a species are nobility. There is no such thing as a low-born ogre. There is always room in the ogrish peerage for another vicomte, another prince, another branch to tie to the rotted tree – strode up to the chateau in human shape. The roses in the garden shivered as he passed by. The huge, high doors opened by themselves and he walked through them without a shift in his stride.

When the doors slammed shut behind him, he moved to shrug the shape off his shoulders like a coat.

Then he saw the woman.

He froze. He stared. She stared back.

He slowly pulled the shape back on. “Who are you?” he asked.

She looked mildly appalled. “Who are you?” she asked. “What are you doing in my home?”

“Your home? This is–” He stopped. He reconsidered. “I am the Vicomte de Saucisson,” he said. “I’m looking for the Marquis de Pamplemousse. He is a… colleague of mine.”

“Oh,” she said. She could’ve looked more abashed. “I’m sorry, monsieur, he’s never mentioned you before. You must be here to share your congratulations, of course, I can fetch him right away.”

“He’s never mentioned you either,” the vicomte did not say. “Of course,” he said. “Congratulations. What about?”

She seemed surprised. “Have you not heard? Monsieur, the curse on my husband has been lifted.”

He stared. His lips started to form the words “What curse,” and then there was a sound like a horse falling down a set of stairs and a man he had never seen before wearing the marquis’s clothes came barrelling down the hall.

“Vicomte!” said the man with the marquis’s voice. “My human friend! The curse has been lifted, and I am a human once again!”

He was slightly out of breath when he reached the woman. He clasped her arm and grinned at him with manic desperation. “This is wonderful news! You must be here to share your congratulations!”

“Lie like hell,” said the man’s eyes.

The vicomte stared. “Oh!” he said. “My – human friend! Human once again! Words fail me. After all these–” (there was the slightest hesitation) “–years?”

The woman put her head at an angle and narrowed her eyes at him.

The man walked up, still grinning like a rictus chimpanzee, and clasped a hand on his shoulder. “Yes, of course! Darling, me and the vicomte are going to have a manly one-on-one conversation while he shares his congratulations, as we human men are wont to do.” And then with a strength that could only be ogrish, the marquis pulled the vicomte by the shoulder down the hall and into a drawing room.

When the bolt of the lock clicked into place behind them, the man wearing the marquis’s clothes visibly sagged.

“What the hell,” said the vicomte.

“You should’ve sent word ahead that you'd be coming today.”

“I never do.” He gesticulated and tried to conjure a single question out of the swarm buzzing in his brain. “What the hell is going on? Who was that? Why are you pretending to be human? What curse are we talking about?”

The marquis groaned and crumpled into a chair. As he did he shifted out of human shape, clothes magically tailoring themselves to contain his ogrish form, something like a moose and an orangutan.

“I had a moment of weakness.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t a stroke?”

“I got married.”

“And that’s another thing–”

“Graoul, please.” He sighed and put his face in his talons. “Last winter a merchant broke into my home. He stole one of my roses, and in exchange I asked him to send me one of his daughters to be my bride.”

The vicomte nodded. This at least was a sacred and recognizable ogrish custom, and he did like to see the old ways in practice.

“And it was fine! It was perfectly lovely. She’s a wonderful woman, but one night I decided to put on a human shape to change things up in the bedroom, and she lost her mind! Started talking about how I was clearly an enchanted prince and that her love for me must’ve broken some curse and turned me human again! I had no idea how to tell her otherwise, and now I’ve done it for too long to back out.”

The vicomte stared. “Sorry,” he said. “You decided to turn into a human to spice things up in the bedroom, and that was the face you chose?”

The marquis growled. “If I knew I was going to be wearing it for the rest of my life I would’ve gone with something better.”

[ragingbookdragon]

“Simon,” she grunted, glaring at him from her cot; he didn’t even so much as twitch. “Simon!” she hissed louder, reaching for her boot below her. “I swear to God, I’m gonna throw my fucking boot at you.”

He shifted, rolling over, and muttered, “You throw that at me? And we’re gonna dance, little girl.”

“Then stop snoring like a goddamn bear in hibernation!” she shot back, dropping her boot. “I can’t fucking sleep when you’re ripping off the goddamn ceiling tiles like it’s your day job.”

“I think you’re exaggerating.”

“You sound like a fucking chainsaw.”

Ghost was too tired to even entertain her. “Then come over and shut me up.”

She glowered at him in the dark. “If I come over there, it’s not because I’m gonna sit on your face. I will smother you with your own fucking pillow.” She picked up her bundle of socks and chucked it at him, hitting him in the shoulder. “Stop fucking snoring or I’m gonna fix it—permanently.”

She flopped over and pulled the covers up to her neck when she felt a disturbance and cracked an eye open, gasping and almost shitting herself when she saw Ghost’s face inches from her.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” she yelped, almost falling off her cot. “Ghost, what the fuck!”

He didn’t say a single word, merely put his hands on either side of the cot and shucked a leg over the side.

“What are you doing?”

He started to put a knee in the cot.

“Don’t you fucking dare. This cot isn’t strong enough to hold us!”

He didn’t listen.

“Simon—!” she sharply inhaled when the cot creaked underneath their weight and she lay completely still, even as Simon shifted, resting his head on her chest, forearms tucked underneath her, legs hanging off the end. “I’m going to fucking murder you.”

“Mhm,” he grumbled, digging his cheek into her skin before he shut his eyes and breathed deeply, settling comfortably. “Murder tomorrow. Sleep now.”

She growled under her breath, but as the moments ticked by and Simon went slack atop her, she felt her anger dissipating, gently tucking her hands inside his hood, secured at the back of his neck, fingers brushing warm hair and skin.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad to hear him snore.

[the-melancholic-human]

The infamous, long awaited, not once, but twice deleted… simon riley x single mom reader fic is finally here:

Simon riley can’t cook for the life of him. Every time he’s back home from deployment, he’ll just survive on instant noodles and canned beer for maybe a week and then he goes back to base and gladly munches on the prepackaged food they throw at him.

Truth is, it has always been like this, and he’s never seen anything wrong with it.

Until price told him that the next op will be in 3 months and this grown ass man shivered just thinking about eating shitty frozen food for 90 days straight.

He begged price, said he’d stay and clean up the base for free, anything! He’d do anything to stay! And price told him to ‘piss off for 12 weeks before he went insane’

Cut to simon, standing in the frozen goods isle, letting out a groan as he rubbed the bridge of his crooked nose. And he angrily stomped towards the frozen bags on the shelves and dropped everything in sight into his cart, trying so hard not to puke at the mere thought of eating all of that junk. The thing is, he was so mad at that moment that if some poor soul approached him asking where the milk was, they’d get a box of frozen turkey legs shoved down their throat.

And you know, someone did approach him. And no, they got to live.

It was a tiny toddler, maybe around 5 or 6, wearing a purple tutu skirt, and she was holding a dino plushie to her chest, looking straight up at simon.

Picture this, a grown 6’2 man, muscular with tats and everything, looking down at a 5 year old girl with messy hair and yellow rain boots. They both looked so serious, none of them broke the eye contact, staring at each other with puzzled expressions.

Simon was about to continue shopping when he saw a woman running towards them, she dropped down to the ground, distressed and scared, tightly hugging the toddler. She whispered to the kid ‘why did you leave me, never do that to me ever again, mom was so scared’

And you know, he could’ve just walked away at that point. Of course, It was a heartwarming scene to behold, a mother finding their lost child, but god, simon couldn’t stop staring at the woman kneeling on the dirty in front of him, the way her eyes were glossy with tears, her cheeks slightly red from the tear stains and she was beautiful. Beautiful.

It had been years, if not decades, since the last that simon thought a human being was beautiful. He wasn’t used to the butterflies that were flying in his stomach, and he wasn’t sure how to react. So he sat down, next to her.

“Hey… t’s okay, don’t worry luv, you found her, alright?”

“I- she was holding my hand one second… and the next i couldn’t find her! I got so… scared, and she wasn’t anywhere, and i thought- i thought”

Simon wasn’t one for holding hands.

But he held her hand. He put his calloused pale hand over hers, and he couldn’t help but to let out a shaky sigh at the feeling. He was dizzy, like he had been drinking bottles of cheap booze, but he didn’t feel sick like the way the cheap booze made him feel, he felt warm.

And with that, the woman looked up at him,

“Thank you? For, for-“

“I didn’ find her luv, you did, but y’welcome anyway”

He laughed out, trying to act like there weren’t fireworks exploding in his head just by looking at her eyes.

But she chuckled, she chuckled at him!

“Sorry i couldn’t help but notice… is that like 20-ish pizzas you’ve got?”

And she pointed at his cart, which had a huge pile of frozen pizzas stacked on top of each other. She giggled.

He cursed under his breath,

“Yea, i- long story, i… can’t cook?”

“Can’t cook? Cook food?”

He put his hand on his neck, rubbing the aching muscle, as he let out another sigh shaking his head.

“That… can’t be good for you, blood pressure is the silent killer after all”

“I know, i know, i-“

“I could… teach you how to cook?”