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maskedcrawford · 1 day ago

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Green Eyed Monster

G-Dragon x Reader x platonic! Jackson Wang

Summary: You and Jackson Wang get close through work and your ex isn't too keen on the fact that it looks like you've moved on.

Warnings: Some angst, fluff at the end.

A/N: Thank you to anon who requested, I got to try my hand at writing for Jackson Wang and I'm going to OPEN requests for him if you guys want something. Leave a like and/or a reblog if you enjoy! Much love <3

Requests are OPEN

You’re sitting in the makeup chair when you feel a pair of hands delicately touch your shoulders. You look up from your phone in the mirror and you see his big dark eyes and light brown hair in the mirror.

“Well, it took ya long enough, J,” you say with a teasing smile as you get up and hug him. You and Jackson Wang had been working together for the last 4 months on a song for your album and today you were shooting the video.

“Always a pleasure,” he says genuinely and returns your hug. Were you and Jackson together? No. Were there rumors about such things? Absolutely. The song being about love didn’t help matters. You guys had known each other briefly through mutual friends but when you had the idea for the song, you knew his vocals would take it to the next level.

“Jackson, Y/N!” the director shouts and you two spring into action with the video. The video itself was pretty intimate; the two of you on a bed tangled together in the sheets, touching, be all close and having no sense of personal space whatsoever. But, Jackson is a professional.

“So if I put my hand here,” he’s talking to the director and looks at you and you give him a nod before he touches your hip.

“And then I can slide it up like this,” he does the motion and pulls you closer to him.

“Yeah, that’ll work perfectly,” your director says and you roll with it.

“Let’s move on to the kiss,” the director announces after that scene. You blush as the time comes for the practical make out session that’s needed for the scene. Jackson was obviously cute, and him so being so respectful and kind? That only made it worse.

You can’t help the nervous laugh as you two are placed together and he starts smiling at you.

“You ok?” he asks genuinely, “We can figure something else out if we need to, find another way to,” you put your hand on his chest to stop him.

“I’m fine, seriously. Just don’t eat my face,” you wink at him with a chuckle. He gives you a gorgeous smile while shaking his head.

“Might be hard, you’re lookin extra good in that outfit,” he subtly looks you up and down. You two had a flirty relationship, but both of you knew it wouldn’t really go anywhere. The scene commences and you lock lips passionately and for a brief moment you forget its for a music video, that is until you hear the director call cut and you both slowly separate, a slight blush on both of your cheeks.

“That was great, guys. We’ll pick it up tomorrow!”

The video is done after a few days and the album dropped four months later. Your adventures continue with a world tour together, but tonight you were performing at the infamous MAMA awards. Since you two were doing a love song it was known that you would have to kiss for the sake of the performance.

“Look, people love us together,” you smile as you show him a picture you posted with a bunch of likes. He smiles as he clicks on the comments.

“This isn’t helping the dating rumors ya know,” he winks at you playfully and you roll your eyes.

“Us kissing every night doesn’t either, not to mention neither one of us have confirmed or denied anything. Besides, who we go out with really isn’t their business.”

“Ever since you made headlines with G-Dragon though, they think it is,” he corrects you. You raise your eyebrows with a sigh that confirms he isn’t wrong.

You and Jiyong had been together 4 years, until the beginning of this year. Schedules got in the way, and Ji had admitted to kissing another woman at a party when he was drunk. It was a one-time thing and for a while you were able to move past it, but eventually, everything came crashing down.

“How could you still not trust me?” he shouted. You were in tears, your nerves were shot and honestly you didn’t want to have the argument.

“You were all over her, Ji. Tell me I’m lying! You kissed another woman before, it’s not like you couldn’t do that and more,” your voice was bitter and weak from tears.

“Oh my god, are you ever going to let it go?” he looked annoyed, he looked weak and desperate to escape the mistake that played through your mind more than you cared to admit. You loved him more than anything, more than life itself practically. But who was he to tell you how long it took to heal? Who was he to say that he atoned for what he did just because of a few ways he tried to make it up to you. Girls were constantly all over him so it wasn’t like he was in short supply. It had caused you to feel insecure, regardless of whether or not he was drunk.

The two of you stayed silent, deafeningly silent, until Ji finally sighs and rubs his temple with his fingers.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he mumbles, “I can’t keep paying for this when I think I’ve proven I’m not that person,” his eyes are cold, depleted of life. It broke him to do this, but he didn’t see any other way.

“We’re done,” he said before walking out of your house with nothing more than a kiss to the forehead.

“Earth to Y/N,” Jackson calls out and you shake your head pulling yourself out of the intense flashback.

“Huh, oh, sorry,” you sheepishly rub the back of your neck.

“Let’s practice one more time,” he takes your hand helping you stand up.

“Ji, have you seen this?” Taeyang was over at his house and pulled up the love song you and Jackson put out.

“Hmm?” he glances away from his phone and furrows his brows at the video. He see’s the two of you kiss on screen and he feels, that pang of jealousy. He’s seen the video before, he seen it the day it came out, actually. But he didn’t tell anyone. He didn’t want to think of it.

He hadn’t seen you since that night, not in person anyway. On TV shows and award ceremonies, he would watch, quietly support you and your career, even liking the first picture or two you posted of you and Jackson.

“They are performing tonight at the MAMA awards, so you’ll probably get to see her,” Taeyang calls out as he heads to the kitchen.

“She’s going to be there?” His voice is rushed, excited almost.

“Yup, we better go too, we’ll be late.”

You and Jackson are at the venue preparing for the show, hitting the choreography perfectly multiple times.

“OK, we gotta get dressed,” you say as you two come out of each other’s embrace

“We got this in the bag,” you both high five and he brings you in for a hug.

“You should really layer a little more deodorant,” you say with a giggle. He sniffs his shirt and makes a twisted face.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he laughs as he jogs off stage. As you walk off to go to the dressing room you stop as your breath hitches in your throat.

Ji-yong laughs as he feels someone stop and stare, he looks away from his manager and he spots you. His smile fades as he takes in your shocked face.

It’s still as beautiful as the first day he met you. He gives you a small wave and smile and you can’t move. His gaze is friendly and lingers for a moment. He starts to walk towards you, until he see’s Jackson come up behind you with his hand resting on your back. You look up at him directly and he can see the smile on your face when you look at him.

He feels the aching jealousy well up inside him but he pushes it down. You nod your head at something he says, and Jackson flits his gaze to Ji before giving a pursed lip smile and dragging you off with him in another direction.

“What could she possibly see in him?” Ji yong asks out loud not really expecting an answer.

“Hyung, did you really think she wouldn’t,” Ji-yong shoots Taeyang a glare, “Move on?” he finishes carefully.

“It’s been 8 months,” he tries to be gentle with Ji’s feelings, but the sting is too much. Jackson Wang was in a place he was supposed to be in. One he’d still be in most likely if he hadn’t of screwed up.

“Still fucking stings,” he grumbles. Taeyang sighs and gives his friend a hug.

“You both,” he pulls back and looks his friend in the face, “Need to move on. It’s time.” He tries to encourage him, tries to show him it’s healthy to move on, but the way Ji-yong loved you, despite his mistake, he was sure he’d never love anyone the same way.

“It’s not that easy, hyung.” He sighs as he sits down for the stylist to do his hair.

“She was everything, my muse, my rock, my reason for breathing. There were days I only got out of bed because I knew I would see her and that it would help make my day better,” he remembers fond memories as he talks to Taeyang about you. One of you and him riding the ferries wheel and getting stuck on top, that’s where your fist kiss was. When you accidently spilled ice cream on your top and he gave you jacket to cover it. When you’d both grow bored at parties after a little while and want to leave to just spend quiet time at home. He missed the way your touch made him feel like everything would work out, the way you made him feel like he was enough for exactly who he was. He sighs as he finishes getting ready for the show.

“Ok, are you ready for this?” Jackson asks you with anticipation.

“Absolutely, just don’t kiss me with tongue tonight,” you swat his arm and he laughs.

“No promises,” he winks and kisses your temple. You both get into position and the song starts as the lights go up. You follow the normal dance routine, spinning and swaying your hips to the beat, and kissing at the end of the song.

As the song is performed Ji can’t help but watch from the side of the stage, the way your body moves so gracefully and how it fits to Jackson’s so well when he had to wrap his arms around you, but it wasn’t the perfect way it fit Ji-yong’s. No, your body wouldn’t fit to anyone else’s the way it did his. He noticed the happy smile on your face, only noticing it falter when your eyes locked as you look his way.

The song ends and the lights go back down. You and him rush off stage and as soon as you are out of view you jump into his arms, adrenaline running high. He catches you with a huge smile on his face and he kisses your cheek sweetly. Ji-yong watches just off to the side and he rolls his eyes. He walks past you and you catch him out of the corner of your eye, his face deadpan.

You stay to the side of the stage to watch him perform. As he looks off to the side, he catches you watching, swaying your body to the music and nodding your head. He gives a half smile your way and you return one. His performance ends and he runs off stage he takes his mic off and before he can run to you, Jackson once again is in the place he wants to be, by your side.

“So, I was thinking, we could go down to the club and celebrate,” Jackson’s excited nature was infectious.

“Yeah, that sounds great,” you glance at Ji-yong who’s giving you a glare again and you furrow your brows at him.

“We’ll leave in a few, get changed!” He runs off to get his stuff together and you go to walk off, but before you can you feel a hand around your wrist pulling you back. You look back and see it’s Ji-yong who has an unreadable expression on his face. You look at each other for a moment.

“I really need to talk to you,” he pleads.

“I,” you look in the direction Jackson went and back at Ji who looks slightly hopeful you’ll stay.

“I can’t,” you say tearing your arm away. He lets you go and for a moment lets you walk away before following you.

“Y/n,” he catches the door to your room. You look over at him, he still takes your breath away, the way his hair clings to his forehead from the sweat, the way he looks at you with his dark eyes, the way his clothes somewhat soaked with sweat cling to his body.

“What, Ji? I have somewhere to be, Jackson isn’t going to wait on me forever,” he scoffs and looks off to the side, mumbling something to himself.

“You want to share with the rest of the class,” you sass him.

“Not really,” he sasses back. You roll your eyes.

“I’m changing so at least shut the door. He walks in and shuts it.

“I meant with you on the other side of it,” you shoot him a glare of annoyance.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen, held or tasted before,” he smirks and you roll your eyes with a sharp exhale.

“Whatever,” you pull your top off your head and his eyes go directly to your body, not in a sensual, sexual way, but in a way that he’s curious. He notices you’ve put on a just little weight in the last 8 months and you instinctively wrap your arms around your torso.

“Can you not, stare,” you pause looking away from him, “at me,” you hear his footsteps come closer and he lifts your chin with his thumb and index finger.

“You’re beautiful,” he slowly reaches for your arms to pull them away and he’s inches from your face.

“Ji-yong,” you put a hand on his chest pushing him back slightly. His eyes flash with hurt before he recovers.

“Be honest with me,” he says standing back further as you find a different shirt. While you’re slipping it over your head you hear him ask, “Does he touch you better than I did?”

“What? Who?!” You all but shriek.

“Your little fling,” he motions his hand as you pull the shirt over your head you take off your pants next and put on some comfortable leggings.

“What ‘fling’,” you ask bewildered by his audacity. He rolls his eyes, saying his name makes him feel ill.

“Your little affair with Jackson Wang, y/n, I know about it, and so does the rest of the world, besides with the way you were sucking face out there, you don’t try to hide it.” You can see his jealousy and you quirk a brow at him. You decide to have a little fun at his expense. After all if he’s going to be nosy and a jerk at the same time, why not have a little fun.

“What Jackson and I are, or aren’t,” you pause and stare at him directly into his eyes, “doing is none of your concern. You left me, Ji, who I’m with now is none of your business.” You strap on a pair of sandals and walk out the door leaving him standing there.

“Jackson,” you call out and race to him. You can feel Ji-yong watching you so you slip your hand in Jackson’s as you walk off.

At the club the music is loud and the drinks are good, but you start to let your mind wonder back to your ex-boyfriend.

“What are you thinking about,” Jackson yells over the music as he see’s you staring into space.

“Ji-yong,” you huff.

“He nods his head understandably. He heard about all of it, multiple times, and he knew you still loved him.

“You wanna dance?” His offer is intriguing and you decide it’s better than sitting there thinking of the guy who broke up with you. As you and Jackson dance you happen to look over your shoulder and see that face that makes your knees weak.

“Holy shit,” you yell and Jackson notices your body tense as he looks at you concerned.

“What?” you point to Ji-yong as the answer to his question.

“Go talk to him.” He tries to push you forward.

“No, he was a dick.” You pout. He nods and walks over to Ji-yong for you. You watch as he gets closer, and even buys your ex a drink.

“Listen, man, I don’t know what you’ve been told, but me and your girl,” you see him gesture to you, “We ain’t together.” He throws back a shot and so does Ji.

“She isn’t ‘my girl’,” he corrects solemnly.

“Could’ve fooled me. She talks about you constantly,” he chuckles and Ji-yong quirks his brow. Jackson knew you’d either thank him or kill him for this, but he wasn’t worried about that right now.

“She does?” he looks over to you, seeing you dance alone.

“Oh yeah, how bad she misses you, wishes things would’ve been different.” He nods his head and looks down at the bar.

“So what’s with the rumors and the kiss and,” Jackson nods interrupting him.

“We did the song together and just became close friends. As far as the kiss, management thought it’d be good for the song if we kissed like in the video. We’re completely platonic though.” He downs another shot, Ji-yong decides not to, he wants his head clear when talks to you.

“Go get her, man,” he encourages and Ji-yong nods his head as he makes his way to you. He slides in behind you while you dance and the intimate smell of cologne and cigarettes wafts to your nostrils. You feel his hand on your hips as he moves with you.

“Can we talk,” he asks in your ear and you just keep dancing, ignoring his words but not his touch, you bring his hands around your torso so he encapsulates you.

“Jagiya,” his voice is soft, sultry even, and once the music ends you sigh and turn to face him.

“Can I please talk to you,” you see Jackson at the bar smirking at you. You give him a half smile as you find an area in the club away from all the people.

“What is it,” you don’t know how else to ask.

“I miss you,” he’s straight to the point and you didn’t expect that.

“Ji,” you sigh.

“Look, I wasn’t planning on telling you, but I seen you with him tonight and I hated it. He had you the way I should, the way I did.” He steps closer to you; you back up hitting the wall. He closes the space, your mouths just inches apart. He’s intoxicating, the way he looks at you, smells, and just the feeling of his body near yours is electric.

“He kissed you the way I did, the way I still want to,” he mumbles as he caresses your cheek.

“Not really,” you utter barely above a whisper.

“Hmm,” he asks like he doesn’t understand.

“He didn’t,” you look into his dark, beautiful eyes, “kiss me the way you did. It wasn’t the same passion or love. It wasn’t the same feeling I got with you.” You feel your cheeks blush as you confess to him.

“His touch,” you runs your hands over his arms that are locked onto your hips now,“Isn’t the same. Its not as electrifying.” You look at him through your lashes.

He looks relieved.

“So, you really aren’t with him?” you shake your head no.

You bring your forehead to his and whisper to him, “I’m not with anyone, I’m yours Ji-yong, I always have been,” and before any other words can be said his lips are on yours, smoothly moving in sync and he pulls your impossibly closer as you fist his shirt.

“Aegiya,” he practically whimpers when you separate.

“I need you to come home.” You smile at his confession.

“Promise me something,” you say cautiously.

“Anything,” his desperate eyes search yours.

“You’ll give us time to rebuild trust and be patient with me,” you’re asking more than telling.

“As long as you want to trust me again, I’ll prove you can.” He smiles.

“Then lets get out of here,” you grin as he takes your hand and leads you out of the club.

If you enjoyed consider buying me a coffee

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acynicalsweetheart · 2 days ago

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HIII i love ur writing so much !!! if your requests are open (and if they arent, feel free to delete this ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა) may i request curly x fem reader who’s jimmy’s girlfriend, but like curly is head over heeellss for her?

if thats not your style, no worries! you can delete my request for any reason, but thank you so much if you write this!! >_< 😭💗

hai thanku very much anon ♡… sawry it took forever. this is awful omg i had no idea. what direction i wanted to take this in LOL. but here’s your head over HEELS sorry had to… anyway first non dead dove drabble yay

content warning: 18+, infidelity

“Curly, stooppp!” You draw between giggles, playfully slapping his awfully muscular yet plush arm. The kind of plush that makes you want to bite a chunk out of it.

“What? I’m not doing anything.” Curly flashes you his blindingly white Hollywood smile, fingers tickling your side for the eleventh time in the past five minutes.

Jimmy glares at Curly. Then at you. His gaze burns holes into your skull like it’s made of lasers.

You blow a kiss to the scowling face across the couch.

Frown deepening further than you’ve ever seen before, Jimmy pinches the bridge of his nose. “I need a drink.”

“Okay, babe,” you speak to Jimmy’s back as he’s leaving the room, returning your attention to Curly to get your revenge by attacking his side for a change.

His couch squeaks when he squirms away, chuckling and grabbing your wrists. Craning his neck, Curly chimes to the doorway. “Hey, get one for me too!”

A groan can be heard all the way from the kitchen.

“Oh,” Curly’s face brightens like he has a revelation, letting go of you to briefly search his pockets to pull out a small velvet box. It looks comically miniature in his hand when he holds it out. “I got this for you.”

“What’s that?” You ask confused and curious, ‘cause it very much looks like he might just propose to you.

It opens sesame.

“An anklet.”

“Oh.”

Well, thank God. Jimmy would’ve fucking shot Curly if it was a ring.

“Here, let me…” Curly reaches for your feet, careful in the way he peels off your socks and it’s all oddly romantic. So romantic there’s a slight heartbeat beneath your panties.

Jimmy would never do that for you and that’s why it’s so wrong.

“There,” he closes the clasp after a good two minute fumble, adorning your ankle with gold that costs more than your boyfriend’s entire net worth.

“Oh,” it’s so shiny you can’t help but to blink at it, “wow. You… could’ve just gotten me a bracelet or something, Curly, I mean—“

“I could’ve,” his gentle up-and-down caresses to your calves pause, quickly adding, “but who would’ve gotten you this?”

You both know the answer to that question.

“It’s not that I—“

“Hey, next time, I’ll get you that bracelet.” He pulls out his phone, squinting at the screen as his fingers move.

“It’s fine, Curly,” you tell him—not wanting to seem ungrateful, “this is more than enough.”

But he’s already typing in his credit card information on the Tiffany & Co website when you look over his shoulder.

What are you supposed to do? Smack the phone out of his hold? It feels… nice to be appreciated. Jimmy’s never bought you anything—you’re the one buying shit for him. Including his black market drugs.

“Jim’s not coming,” you note after a long moment of awkward silence, poking your head forward like he’s coming through the doorway any second.

“I guess not.” Curly says, meeting your eye once you look back at him.

Almost kind of scary, the tenderness in his gaze. Not like Jimmy’s wolfish one that says he wants to eat you alive. In the cannibal way.

“You’re gorgeous.”

“Me?” You can’t help but to laugh out loud, it’s so sudden, and Jimmy’s your boyfriend and he doesn’t even think that. “No… no I—“

“You are!” Curly insists, making a motion with his hands towards you. “Doesn’t he tell you that? Doesn’t he…” he pauses again, voice lowering, “show you that?”

“Show me?”

“Like this,” he leans in closer, like way in-your-personal-bubble type of closer, noses brushing against each other. Curly lifts your chin up like he’s about to do something forbidden.

You were almost convinced it was a joke till he actually kissed you.

“Oh!” Lightly pushing on his chest, you stare at him. “Curly, that’s… we can’t.”

Fisting at Curly’s shirt to pull him closer, you kiss him back. Harder.

“Stop it,” like you’re not the one sucking on his tongue, tracing the bulge in his pants with your toes. “He’ll kill us!” It’s a half-whisper, half-yell.

“Nah, I know Jim.” Says Curly, who more than well knows that Jimmy would have both of your heads on each respective stick to then keep as decorations in his trailer, “trust me.”

“Well…” but Jimmy doesn’t seem to be coming back anytime soon—you know him well enough to assume that he’s most likely sulking by now. “Okay then.”

And so you let him lay you down on his couch the way Jimmy did your first time with him. Only Curly is a thousand times more gentle in comparison. You’re a bad person for thinking it, but you almost wish Curly was your first.

You’re still desperately kissing when his hands trail up your thighs, creeping under the hem of your dress to pull down your panties. Curly gets them about halfway down when you hear the unthinkable and the unmistakable.

The cock of a gun.

Jimmy’s holding this pesky little revolver that he probably found in his mom’s bedside drawer—the same one she blew her brains out with—pointing it at Curly and you with an expression resembling a wild animal more than a human face.

#mouthwashing smut #mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing curly #curly mouthwashing #mouthwashing curly smut #mouthwashing curly x reader #curly x reader #curly smut #curly #captain curly #captain curly x reader #curly mouthwashing smut #curly mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing x y/n #mouthwashing x you #mw curly #curly mw #curly x you #♡. fraise's drabbles

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vaguely-concerned · 3 days ago

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The Wigmaker Job Reread thoughts

Feat. numerous bonus general Dellamorte boys thinky thoughts, because I can’t help myself when this particular brain state comes over me I will just. keep writing.*

SO I'm rereading The Wigmaker Job and folks, I uh. think Lucanis asked Illario to come along on this job mostly because he's incredibly lonely lmao. Not entirely sure he's recognized this himself and completely sure he would not have the language, ability or instinct to convey this to Illario in a coherent way if he did, but I really do think that's what it is. (He certainly doesn’t make it easy for Illario to actually pitch in meaningfully on the job itself at any point that’s for sure!) And what’s more, I think Illario does realize it, better than Lucanis himself… and did decide to go along with it, huh. I’ll try to show my work a bit later on in the post but for now, we have a lot of rambling ground to cover, let’s get going!

(Obligatory disclaimer that these are just my personal impressions and reflections slash barely hinged stream of consciousness and if your read on something is different that is totally fine; as usual I am mostly talking out loud trying to explain to myself what the hell I’m thinking more than anything else lol. I’m going to be touching lightly on themes of suicidal ideation and child abuse in this, but only to the extent that is already present in the short story itself. I’ll mostly skirt around the body horror elements too, if those get to you!)

— “The man who’s taken the contract is no ordinary Crow,” Felicia explained, careful to keep her voice steady.

Ambrose uncorked the wine with a wave of his hand and began pouring it into a crystal decanter.

“He’s Lucanis Dellamorte.”

The bottle clanged against the crystal. A crack splintered down the glass.

“Ah.” Goose bumps pebbled the Wigmaker’s neck. He set the decanter back on the counter and sighed. “Shit.”

***

In an unassuming inn, on an unassuming road, Lucanis Dellamorte sat with a whetstone in hand, his favorite sword resting across his knees. The monotonous movement of grinding stone against metal soothed him. Seven daggers of various size and shape lay polished and glistening on a rough wool blanket at his feet.

The opening mood whiplash of Lucanis’ name being spoken only in hushed voices among the Venatori, smash cut to Lucanis sitting there peacefully sharpening his knives (this is genuinely and unironically what he does for fun. This is his idea of a good time outside of work. Give him a cup of coffee to go along with it and his day is perfect. He’s been contentedly sharpening seven daggers and a sword while Illario gets dressed. Sometimes his attraction to Viago ‘I’m going to make a spreadsheet about who to kill about this I find that relaxes me’ de Riva makes so much sense to me.)? Of course amazing the first time around, but coming back to it now that I like. Know him. No actually that is exactly who and what he is huh got it in one fhsdkj. He’s wearing a sensible neutral toned knitted sweater beneath his brooding hotboi leathers and this is what you need to understand about him.

I wonder if we were originally going to get more of the Erimond family in the game itself, other than just the notes we do find. It’s not every day a family produces someone even Cole can’t find a good word to say about, it would be fascinating to see what else it’s capable of haha.

— This whole description of Lucanis’ sensory hypersensitivity especially to sound (hypersensitivity, as we see later, that extends to magic, despite describing himself as being as magically adept as a brick, however that works!) taken together with his, I feel I must reiterate, sharpening his knives for fun… I know diagnosing fictional characters is a flawed premise at the outset but as far as I’m concerned and with a whole game to add to my evidence pile this man is SO autistic and if you read him through that lens it does explain some things hahaha.

— “Any excuse to primp.”

“Hey—I’m only here because of you,” Illario grumbled. “We should be halfway home right now. Only ‘the Great Lucanis Dellamorte’ could delay a summons from the First Talon herself.”

Lucanis set his sword aside. Illario was generally thick-skinned— except when it came to their grandmother. “Caterina can hardly complain. She’s the one who beat into me my commitment to contracts.”

Memories of sweat-filled days without food or water came unbidden. Lucanis’s back tingled from where his grandmother’s cane had bruised his flesh for letting his guard down or fumbling his footwork. For years, he’d hated her. But his time as a Master Assassin had since taught Lucanis that Caterina’s cruelty was her way of making sure that he was prepared for this life—that he survived.

“All that effort training and grooming us, and the old woman still won’t step aside.” Beneath the bitterness in Illario’s tone was something rotten.

“Your time will come,” Lucanis assured him.

“Will it?” Illario’s piercing gaze met Lucanis’s in the mirror. “People talk. You’ve always been her favorite.”

He’d heard the rumors. For all their secrets and intrigue, the Antivan Crows were a chatty bunch.

“My talents lie elsewhere,” Lucanis said, gesturing toward the arsenal around him. “You’re the one with the silver tongue.”

“So, if she named you heir to House Dellamorte, you’d refuse?” Lucanis opened his mouth to respond, when he realized someone was creeping up the stairs.

. . .

“Lucanis?” Illario pressed.

He held up a hand and clutched the worn leather grip of his sword. Illario’s pretty-boy mask slipped as a coldness flooded his features. A retractable dagger shot out from under his sleeve.

Now we don’t have time to unpack all of that — etc. but I want this exchange here in its entirety for stuff I’ll talk about later and also hey what the hell and so on. So much going on here. Lucanis’ acts of quiet rebellion by means of a sort of malicious compliance/competence — he’s following Caterina’s teachings to the letter and getting to have some in the spirit room left over for himself. He’s found a loophole to put off going home to something he dreads in an elegant practiced way, I definitely think this is a tactic he’s employed before.to claim some bits and pieces of agency. ‘How can she complain that I’m exactly what she taught me to be?’ suppressed anger/resentment under there.

The fact that Caterina still hasn’t named either of them as heir at this point continues to be insane, of course, as is the fact that her blatant favoritism is a matter of public knowledge to the point of ‘As you know, Bob —’ connotations and neither of them even thinking to pretend to deny it. Wild shit. If she wanted to create an environment for seething toxic resentment, she couldn’t have done it better if she’d dedicated her life to nothing else lmao. Illario: I think I should be First Talon! Lucanis: I agree (please don’t make me talk to people)! Caterina: Isn’t there someone you forgot to ask? (Would Illario make a good First Talon? I don’t know, what does that even mean, really. But as has been said many a time before it would have been a much more natural use of their skillsets and natural inclinations to have Illario in the people-facing role and Lucanis to watch his back/stab anyone who disagrees, especially if what you’re after is stability. Oh well.)

The special element of humiliation that it is a matter of public knowledge and tactical consideration across town that you’re the least favorite child… Illario’s obsession with winning the public opinion and being able to control his own image to the outside world is ah. Perhaps understandable.

Many thoughts and feelings about how they’ve individually made sense of/created narratives around the abuse in their upbringing. I didn’t end up going that deeply into that specifically in this post but it is an incredibly important element of their relationship.

They come back to having this conversation again at the end — everything in this story right down to the structure of it is Lucanis desperately trying to avoid something and finding it implacably still there waiting for him no matter what he does. He’s playing for time as best he can and pretending that if he doesn’t think about it it won’t happen and he won’t have to deal with it, but no matter what happens in between it will be waiting for him at the end — Illario is not letting this go, and neither is Caterina. We open with it, and we close with it; it’s inevitable no matter how you bargain or try to go for the ‘well if I’m real lucky I could just die before that becomes relevant!’ gambit. Oof. Sorry Lucanis this isn’t something you can solve through stabbing no matter how good you are at it I know that’s terrible news for you but here we are my sincerest condolences

— So cute to see their little double act of casual smalltalk/bickering as a diversion in action already here, in exactly the same way they break it out during the café meeting in Veilguard! Courtney Woods is really good at moments of establishing character like this, showing both the brewing conflict between them and how well they know each other and the ways they can wordlessly communicate because of it all in one scene. How unspeakably comfortable and uncomfortable they are together in ways only family can manage to be haha.

— Illario complaining that Lucanis let him get a whole outfit made thinking they were actually going to the party and mentioning how long they (not he, they, Lucanis came along for all of that) were at the tailor’s (Lucanis, implied to be very dryly: “I recall.”)... listen. Especially once you hear the banter in the Treviso market about how Lucanis once sat around waiting for six hours while Illario tried on gloves to find exactly the right pair — that is clearly Lucanis making gentle fun of him, but he is also inadvertently revealing something about himself in that he stayed for six hours to keep Illario company through that. I think coming along on shopping trips where he knows nothing is expected of him except to hang out, make light snarky comments when asked for his opinion and wait might kind of be Lucanis’ idea of a good time socially hahaha. Nr. 1 shopping wingman in Thedas. His main ‘I’ll follow you to hell and back with only light complaining’ arena for Illario. This is part of the pattern of not telling Illario the whole plan and deliberately keeping him continually on the backfoot during this whole story — which clearly, not fair to him and not a great look, Lucanis, you’re not being very nice — but I feel like this is also another entry in the pattern of Lucanis desperately craving company and not quite knowing how to ask for it nor perhaps realizing that’s what he’s up to. Also I get the sense he thinks Illario finds getting ready for missions like this and picking out what to wear fun. Which to be fair he’s probably right about, if he just didn’t also go out of his way to make Illario feel like an idiot in the process lmao.

— At the bottom, they found an elf in a scarlet coat guarding a large steel door. She greeted Lucanis with a cordial smile. “Master Dellamorte. And . . .”

Her friendly façade faltered as she spotted Illario.

“Master Dellamorte the Lesser,” Illario offered with a grin.

“My cousin,” Lucanis clarified.

Appeased, the elf asked, “Where does your business take you tonight?”

If you wear your self-loathing and resentment on your sleeve for long enough while everyone around you ignores it as a joke it becomes an accessory! And other Illario Dellamorte hot fashion tips in this edition of Treviso Weekly. Fhdskjas the things these two motherfuckers say that they consider completely normal and sane things to say — to each other and to say about themselves and each other in public…

— Lucanis peeked over the side. No one looked up. One of the world’s greatest wonders is mundane to these people.

“How do they get it to float?” Illario asked, tapping his boot tip against the aqueduct.

This is so quietly sweet to me. Illario does look up, because he is also a Crow. Courtney Woods is really good at creating these under-the-surface feelings — I love the small details she puts in to emphasize Illario and Lucanis connecting over their common background, over being two Antivans in Tevinter, in being Crows, in being Caterina’s grandsons. (...and also the places those connections fail or fall short. Ouch and owie.) At a point later in the story, Lucanis thinks to look up because he hears Illario’s voice in his head making a joke, reminding him.

Moving in tandem, Lucanis and Illario dropped to their chests and shimmied to the edge overlooking the courtyard.

Lucanis seems to value these moments of connection through common experience because they don’t require him to speak or explain himself, which he clearly finds extremely hard to the point that he’d rather not even venture the attempt/doesn’t even know how to start. These are wordless ways he and Illario know each other, intimacy/connection that’s natural and effortless where that is clearly incredibly difficult for him in many other settings — body knowledge of another person’s company with the person he (thinks he) knows the best in the whole world, the most familiar and comforting presence in his life. They were boys together, they learned how to move together, they’ve eaten at the same table all their lives. In the Crossroads when he finds the smell of coffee and home there, it’s home because Illario was there with him. Hmghfsk. Agony. Suffering.

— “So, the Wigmaker.” Illario wiggled his fingers ominously. “Tell me about him.”

“He’s weird,” Lucanis replied bluntly. He found the moments before a job crucial for focus, but Illario was never one for comfortable silence.

“Specifics, cousin. No one hires us to kill normal people.”

“I gave you a dossier.”

“Yes, but I want your assessment.”

“I wrote it. It is my assessment.”

“Humor me.”

Their dynamic in this is so heartbreaking to me in that like… okay this is going to be heavily vibes based and integrating some of the things we get to see of them in Veilguard so bear with me here while I try to explain this to myself. But what Illario is trying to do here is clearly to get Lucanis to engage with him outside of the professional sphere. Of all people in the world at this point in time, I think Illario is the one single person who best knows and also cares the most about Lucanis as a human being, not about what he can do for him. He loves his cousin, he wants to know what Lucanis is thinking, he wants to be engaged with him; he’s trying his fucking damnest to pick the locks to get to the person beneath the Crow, as it were! Maybe to a Lucanis he remembers from long ago, when they were children and the connection between them was effortless and open, not yet marred by all the ways trauma and the unequal dynamic enforced on them has forced them to shut parts of themselves down to survive. I feel there’s a where did you go that I couldn’t follow and when did it happen, why did you leave me here alone, come back sort of undertone to it, both here and in The Wake. As well as in Veilguard itself, come to that! ‘That is not my cousin, that is a demon, a stranger with his face’ is a sentiment that may, perhaps, have deeper roots than Lucanis popping back up from the grave like a jumpscare. Another metaphorical/emotional truth made mockingly literal, as it were, just like Lucanis’ Freeze response and deep sense of being a monster somehow in a way he can’t put his finger on is older than Spite or the Ossuary. (Zara thought making ‘the Demon of Vyrantium’ literal would be great value for shits and giggles, and this is also a Narrative Pattern in this corner of the story, the unspoken emotional metaphors in this fucked up little family heightened and made real through the literary device of magic. It’s good stuff. Veilguard does pretty solid work with metaphors overall, honestly.)

Meanwhile Lucanis both seems to long for that connection too (there’s a reason he asked Illario to come along with him for this even though he refuses to like. Actually give him the information he needs to actively help out particularly effectively) AND to feel threatened/inadequate when Illario asks for it. I’m not sure he entirely knows how to give Illario the closeness he’s asking for anymore, and the pain both of not being able to give someone you love what they need from you and the feeling of something being fundamentally wrong with you that you can’t understand how to do that, as well as threatening the system of values Caterina has instilled in him so deep: the job always comes first, anything that could stop you from prioritizing that is dangerous, even love. (Especially love, you only get to keep that if you do your job perfectly first.) There’s also the resentment of ‘why are you asking me for more when I already tried to give you this information/closeness in a way I’m actually capable of, if only you’d be serious and pay attention for five minutes’, a feeling of not being understood or seen. A sort of I crave your company but every time I have it it only reveals how I’m fundamentally broken despair and stuckness as well, as we see the sort of fraught irreconcilably mixed emotions in all of Lucanis’ attachment relationships in Veilguard.

Even at this stage, Lucanis’ is a psychology held together with workaholism and ‘I’ll just bottle this all up in here and then someday, on the bright side, if I’m lucky, I will die and not have to worry about it! If I can’t see it it can’t see me and it’ll be okay’ logic, and Illario’s attempts at breaking through, born of increasing desperation, love, and justified concern as they may be, are disruptive to those defensive structures and Lucanis instinctively rejects them. (Indeed, very much in the same way as Spite’s presence in Lucanis’ psyche works eventually, and eliciting the same initial reactions in him: avoidance, distaste, fear and anger. Davrin too refuses to stop poking and back off at subtler signs, and evokes a lot of the anger and rebellious little shitness for lack of a better word that Lucanis also has with Illario. Which I think ironically is also a sign that Lucanis kind of weirdly trusts him or at least trusts that he understands the parameters of their relationship clearly, it’s one of the few places he lets himself be openly angry right from the get go.) Thus the irritable pulling away/dismissiveness, and thus Illario’s (accurate tbf!) sense of rejection and dismissal and (I think inaccurate or at least incomplete) perception of Lucanis’ motivations for it. Though, again, who can blame him for reaching the conclusions he does with what Lucanis is able to give him to work with here. And so the misery carousel keeps going round and round.

Illario and Spite speak the same truth to him: WE ARE TRAPPED. WE NEED TO GET OUT SOMEHOW OR IT’LL KILL US. (Inferred and indirect: HELP ME) And because Lucanis’ survival instincts naturally go towards Freeze, being asked for action of that specific kind is what he’s least able to deliver, because it’ll inevitably hurt someone he loves, no matter how he moves. So he just. Doesn’t. Rook finds Lucanis trapped in a chamber deep in his brain I think has existed in a less Fade-enhancedly literal form for much, much longer than the most recent barrage of trauma. The set dressing is new, the underlying logic is old and firmly established.

Lucanis’ instinct to keep the current patterns going as painlessly or numbly as possible, to ‘keep still’ and only work within the structures Caterina has set up for them — because in his mind a flawed yet stable status quo, yes, even a toxic one, is better than the risk of unbearable and irretrievable loss and chaos at its disruption, as they have in fact experienced before under traumatic circumstances — is incredibly destructive to the both of them, and it’s born out of an incredibly deep love and protectiveness. He’s trying to keep Illario safe, in exactly the same way he thinks he’s doing for everyone he cares about by staying in the Mind!Ossuary later, but it’s a child’s/survival instinct’s flawed logic and causing so much harm in the process. Logic that indeed is inherited from Caterina, whose solution to that same logic is what Lucanis is scrambling to protect Illario from the same way he tries to protect himself (if only Illario would understand that and stop rocking the fucking boat!!!, right…). Don’t struggle against the riptide, go limp, if you try to swim against it directly you’ll always lose. (And from Illario’s point of view: well, if you loved me you’d at least try, and not just wait for it to finish the job and finally drown us.)

In this short story you can feel how they’re trying so hard to speak with each other in the only ways they know how, with the broken mangled tools Caterina left them with, and they can’t understand each other and very soon it’s going to be too late. I’m going to go lie down on the bottom of the ocean for ten thousand million billion years.

— More observations of the patterns between them in this generally because it didn’t fit anywhere else lol: here’s the feeling I get. Illario makes bids for connection, Lucanis seems to bluntly brush him off even as we see from his internal dialogue just how fond he is of Illario — I think even some of the more dismissive comments he makes in his head is more along the lines of the affectionate amusement we see him have around people he cares about and their foibles in Veilguard too. If you listen to how he talks about Viago and Caterina especially, there’s that same laconic observation of their peculiarities as a part of how he loves them. HowEver. He and Illario do not have the tools or understanding to express to each other that ‘oof, no, that hit on something too tender, back off’, other than to try to jab back harder and sharper. And so resentments build and deepen on both sides without ever getting any outlets. A relationship where you don’t have the right or means to say ‘no’ is never going to be a healthy one, and saying ‘no’ is the one thing Caterina has most forbidden. In other relationships Lucanis solves this by creating distance internally — Caterina is in his inner world, but she’s the outermost lock, kept further away from his deepest self. He does not resent her ‘anymore’ (he says and probably thinks. I think he might ah. Have deferred it more than resolved it but that’s just me lol), but he has protected himself from her within the means he had to do it with and found a way to maintain his attachment to her in that state. And yet he is incapable of and/or unwilling to do that same process with Illario, to let go of the closeness he can maintain there. Illario is the innermost lock of his psyche, the person who has meant the most to him and as unguardedly as he’s capable of, who he’s held the closest all this time… even after finding out what he did.

Illario is the safest, closest relationship he has… which also means that he is the one who gets parts of all the anger and resentment and frustration that cannot be there with Caterina in particular because that would be Dangerous Territory in a multitude of ways. I think Lucanis tries to mitigate this by more deliberately pouring that stuff into his job, but it’s still down there unresolved at the core, bubbling away, the fumes rising and infecting his interpersonal relationships in subtle ways. Even the ‘read the goddamn brief Illario’ move and refusing to budge is just another version of the malicious compliance/competence as rebellion that this whole mission is towards Caterina. (Unfortunately this is how it works sometimes when you’ve had to push things down that hard for that long; it comes out with the people we love the most and who deserve it the least.) And even then it’s mostly in undercurrents moving beneath the surface— it’s something that happens in an obfuscated and buried enough way that you can’t simply break it open all at once and let air in to stop the wounds from festering. If Illario did try to bring it up directly, I do not think Lucanis at this point would be capable of staying with it, he would flinch away and dissociate/freeze and deny it was even a thing at all (be unable to recognize it as a thing at all). And Illario clearly knows this too — you get the feeling that he’s been trying and trying and trying to get through here and found no way. He’s at the end of his rope, and not just about the First Talon conundrum.

Whenever they are speaking to each other, they are also speaking to Caterina through each other because you can’t really bargain with God directly (especially one that’s known to be a wrathful god given the provocation), but there’s enough of her and her meanings fused into you over the years that it’s almost the same thing when you talk. And sometimes it’s hard to see past her to your brother actually standing there with you.

I’m going to SCREAM Lucanis loves Illario so much that he would prefer to die, would condemn himself to hell in his own mind forever rather than face having to lose him or deliberately harm him, AND YET!!!! AND STILLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!! He is letting him down and leaving him behind and making him feel small and stupid in ways so incredibly profound and sad without even realizing it all the time. No one in this family has ever been equipped to talk about anything ever and I doubt they’re about to start now and I need to tear into something with my TEETH

Anyway. Breakdown over, on with our regularly scheduled tevinter nights reread post with slightly less anguish lol.

— [Lucanis] clapped a hand over the mage’s mouth and slammed his skull against the wall. “Knock it off.

What does he have to go and be so casually funny for at all times. The undisputed master of the perfectly tuned in levels of comedic mild exasperation. Stop stop I already love him.

— Illario waited with a chair and rope.

“Sit down.” He beamed. “Enjoy a little Antivan hospitality.”

While his cousin secured their prisoner’s bindings, Lucanis retrieved his sword from the wall. e mage was coming to. His unfocused eyes took stock of his situation.

“I won’t talk,” he spat. “Even if you torture me.”

“I’m too busy to torture you,” Lucanis said, and ran him through with his sword.

. . .

Illario frowned. “If I’d known you were just going to kill him, I wouldn’t’ve put so much effort into the knots.”

“Check his pockets.”

“Ah—” Illario said, pulling a scroll from the mage’s jacket. “Found something.”

The seal was broken, but the imprint of two dragons was still visible in the wax. “Venatori.”

“Thought as much. What’s it say?”

Illario unrolled the parchment and scanned the page. “‘Gallant brothers and sisters . . . In our veins runs true Tevinter blood, passed down from the dreamers—’” Illario’s head snapped up as Lucanis began pulling his sword from the mage’s chest. “ Careful! Remember the tanner job? You ruined my best shirt.”

Lucanis smirked and continued extracting the blade.

Illario took two wary steps back, then continued reading.

Unfortunately I do love it when Lucanis is a troll fhsdkj

— Lucanis’ inner logic that he can buy the tiniest sliver of autonomy and meaning by consistently offering up a sacrifice of perfection — that’s the silent deal he’s struck with Caterina, an exchange she’ll accept as long as he doesn’t try to get too clever with it, and his subsequent panic in Veilguard when he’s too worn down to be able to perform to perfection anymore (and with that, in this internal logic, goes his right to autonomy or freedom)……….. He really does make me so so SO sad. He needed so much therapy even before the Ossuary. Some deeply entrenched ideas about the basic transactionality in even the closest relationships here. (Where I think Illario is kind of his exception to. That’s an assumed mutual unconditional love even when some terms and conditions probably would be in order actually situation for him.)

Also I think this is a useful look at how the Crows operating on ‘might makes right’ lines could be harnessed if you’re of a mind — basically anything goes, as long as you’re good enough to get away with it and/or don’t step on enough toes that the rest of the crab bucket momentarily team up to tear you down. And Lucanis chose to use that little loophole to go ‘well you see I’d sort of like to get to be kind sometimes actually’. Which, y’know. Eccentric for a Crow, to be sure, but are you going to be the one to tell the Demon of Vyrantium himself, Caterina Dellamorte’s most speacialest and scariest little murderboy, that he can’t keep protecting servants of the households he hits because it’s making the whole team look kind of soft??? The whole business runs on ‘I’m bigger and stronger than you so don’t try any shit’, and Lucanis has successfully built up the image of being bigger and stronger than anyone who’d think to try any shit well enough to get away with it, as Caterina has achieved for their house overall. (It’s not like him sparing witnesses gets in the way of the interest of other houses or anything anyway, he’s creating potential trouble for himself more than for anyone else which I hardly think anyone would feel compelled to protest against. If it’d been something that threatened anyone else’s bottom line, a completely different story, but I think Lucanis understands the system well enough to know where he can get away with it.) And again, all he has to do to earn it is to deliver unflinching inhuman perfection at all times! So that’s not a stressful set of psychological parameters to have to function under at all, especially when you feel yourself start to fail as you’re falling apart after horrible new waves of trauma lmao

Which I think is partially also what the ‘You think I’m not good enough?’/’Are you?’ exchange is about — it’s an extremely unhelpful and mean thing to say the way he does (especially in front of other people! Other people who, to Illario, are basically strangers!), but it’s also said out of howling protectiveness and a deep recognition of this stark truth. You can get away with it if you’re good enough, and if you’re not good enough you’re dead. Something Lucanis is blithely ready to risk his own life on all the time for perfect strangers, and is completely unwilling to accept when it comes to Illario’s life! Lucanis’ love has that light element of possessiveness/proprietariness to it from time to time — the ‘he is ours’ sentiment that both he and Spite maintain for Illario in love and in hate. I have a lot of sympathy for it because it obviously comes from a place of painfully earnest love and fear in someone who has lost people in horrible ways at a young age, but there is something paternalistic in that protectiveness too, a lack of trust in Illario to take care of himself and willingness to cross lines in Illario’s own autonomy to ensure that he’s safe. (Not healthy or anything but considering the shit Illario pulls in this game… a little bit of can you fucking blame him I’d be three seconds away from an ulcer about it at all times too going on here haha). ‘It’s okay if you don’t agree or don’t forgive me afterwards, it’s all worth it if it means you’re safe, if it means you’ll survive’. Sins of the grandma dude. Sins of the grandma. The generational trauma starts coming and it won’t stop coming.

— I also think it’s relevant that Lucanis can count on some things from Caterina consistently, as long as he upholds his part of the ‘deal’ between them to be her perfect poor boy slash best knife who’ll never let her down. However devastating the cost of her regard and support is, it’s only Illario who’s left completely to fend for himself in this family dynamic. A little bit of what the fuck does he have to lose going on here. Lucanis, I suppose. For a long he has Lucanis to lose, but Lucanis is starting to act an awful lot like he’s not that invested in living too much longer. So where does that leave you if you’re Illario. With a very dumb plan that was never going to work, apparently.

— While hunting his mark, Lucanis had opened the wrong door and walked into an orgy. Getting out of that had been interesting.

Nothing of substance to add here except that the mental image is hysterical, of course, and only more so after having a whole game to get to know him. Also this is just my personal read but I don’t think Lucanis would use seduction, even as a tactic on a job, by choice — my feeling is that his act as a servant in Vows and Vengeance would be more indicative of the social stealth skills he’d use when that’s what gets him where he needs to be. (Very tired service worker towards the end of their shift might in fact be the role he was born to play he has exactly the vibes for it.)

A good assassin knows his tools, and I think Lucanis realizes that flirting, even in a professional capacity as it were, is one of his blunter and more inflexible ones and so mostly wouldn’t use it haha. If he understood someone to be attracted to him in a way that required nothing much of him actively and would somehow aid the job I’m sure he’d use the opportunity it provided well enough, don’t get me wrong, but I just don’t believe it’d ever occur to him to go there as an opening move. The theoretical understanding is mostly there, the practical application… maybe less so. He knows he’s not very good at it and so wouldn’t rely on it if he could help it; that’s Illario’s sandbox to play in. Again this is just my personal opinion, so feel free to disagree of course, I know people have a range of reads on this element.

— His skull felt raw. The backs of his eyeballs itched like he hadn’t blinked in days. Whatever magic Ambrose was using for his creations was tearing at the seams of the Veil.

“Something’s wrong.”

“Yeah,” Illario agreed, zeroing in on a group of half-dressed revelers, “we’re up here, away from the fun.”

Lucanis snapped his fingers in front of his cousin’s face. “Focus.”

“I am.”

“On the job.”

“To be fair, you never told me the plan.”

Lucanis shrugged. “Find Ambrose. Slit his throat.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“It will be. The Veil’s thin here. Thinner than I expected.” He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “One wrong spell and this place will be swarming with demons.”

“Then let’s kill the bastard and scram. I want to see what this city has to offer.”

“Our ship sails at dawn.”

Illario waved a dismissive hand. “Plenty of time for some good, old fashioned debauch—”

“I see him,” Lucanis interrupted.

Lucanis does this really nasty thing with Illario where he first pushes him away and then punishes him for being disengaged with him/what they’re doing, or asks him for something he then rejects when he gets it. (I think he has some of this pattern in other relationships too but without the punishment or idk… familiarity/presumptiveness/feeling of natural entitlement to their attention part. Illario is his brother, the attachment there is safe/established enough that the part of him that doesn’t think he’s worth someone’s attention doesn’t kick in as it does in pretty much every other relationship. He’d never blame Rook or any of the Lighthouse crew for pulling away from him that same way, that’s a deep well of ‘well yeah valid I also don’t really want to have anything to do with me tbf :/’ self-loathing waiting to open up, ‘protecting’ him from making a presumption like that or imaging himself to have rights or worth interpersonally in basically any other context or relationship at the outset. But with Illario the love is always assumed. Both ways. You have a right to me on that level, and I have the right to you. The only person he takes for granted. Because that’s family. Oh boy.)

See also: the way he barely acknowledges Illario greeting him when he comes back from the Ossuary and more crucially as far as Lucanis might expect Illario’s perspective to be beneath any repressed suspicions, from the dead — very understandably so, considering the Dire mood and implications and ‘...where’s Caterina’ of it all, but it’s also a larger pattern he has. I think he feels such deep love for Illario that he doesn’t quite get that he also has to like. Show that deep love for it to be understood by the other party. And it sure comes across as very dismissive from the outside, or if a person is perhaps primed to have that insecurity already by the entrenched family dynamics at play. Oh boy 2 electric boogaloo.

Buddy you are setting the person you love the most up to lose again and again and again… and it would break his heart to truly realize that, probably, but I don’t know if he’d know how to stop doing it, either.

This seems to be all completely subconscious, to be clear. These are clearly patterns established from when they were extremely young, and it’s hard for fish to conceptualize being surrounded by water other than when the absence of it leaves them gasping and dying, I suppose.

Shallower thought: So Lucanis is also not clean-shaven here! Probably a more casual didn’t bother to shave/not quite as meticulously maintained five o’clock shadow going on as with Illario, but perhaps a tiny bit of the pot calling the kettle black here, Mr. Lucanis ‘long black leather overcoat’ Dellamorte isn’t unconcerned with looking cool, in his more restrained way. (As we all know ‘looking cool’ is the foundational base of a Crow’s Maslow’s pyramid of needs to the point that Spite went ‘can do!’ immediately upon contact with Lucanis’ soul and never stopped dhfkjs.)

— “They’re never what you envision, are they?” Illario noted.

“What did you expect?”

“Hair, for one. Maybe a funny little dog.”

That got a chuckle out of Lucanis, if only briefly.

The thing is that I love these two dumbasses so incredibly much. You see. This exchange of funny little observations is a huge part of how Lucanis interacts with Rook especially out on missions too, you can see where his patterns for having close relationships come from. Also restating my point from other metas that Lucanis seems to come alive a bit with collaborative humour, that’s clearly a social dynamic he finds soothing and also engaging, a way he knows how to take an outstretched hand. Since that seems to come from his relationship with Illario when it’s at its best… pain and suffering in my heart again needless to say

— Lucanis pays a lot of attention to people’s clothes and is very good at understanding what they’re trying to signal with their outfits. Overall he’s excellent at understanding people’s ways of thinking in the abstract/from a distance, as long as he doesn’t have to interact with them directly and interpersonally. Because then he falls to absolute pieces under the slightest pressure and runs. Again the best my particular brand of autism representation probably not even meant to be representation I’ve ever seen lol.

— Camille had just taken a sip of watered-down mulsum, when a handsome stranger grabbed her glass and downed the rest.

“Excuse me!” she exclaimed. The party drowned out her words, but Lucanis could still read her lips. “That’s my drink.”

Illario simply smiled. “Guess I’ll have to buy you another.”

Lucanis groaned—not only at the line, but that it worked. Even from his position, he could see Camille was hooked. He shouldn’t be surprised. This was old hat for Illario. But it was always amazing to see what one man’s smile could accomplish.

Lucanis’ mildly baffled and somewhat begrudging admiration for Illario’s social skills is so funny. As far as he’s concerned this is some kind of black magic beyond his ken. It must be a bit of pretty privilege involved in this case tho because what the fuck how did that land. Hey whatever works Illario you spent all that time on your outfit for a reason never let anyone tell you your slutty little unbuttoned shirt isn’t serving a tactical purpose I’m not about to tell you how to do your job

the fact that Illario is in fact a very good Crow. he's just not Lucanis. that's his original sin huh. never getting away from that one.

— Do u think Illario’s move with putting the keys on the tray instead of pocketing them and going back to Lucanis is maybe one of his small spiteful acts of rebellion. Ah. Family traditions. Truly they bind us together.

— The Lucanis in this story is so much more… contained than the Lucanis we get to meet in the game, for good or ill. In Veilguard he is constantly fraying at the seams and cracking open under all the pressure he’s under, which for sure and of course is Not Great and causes him a lot of pain and distress — but also the whole that’s how the light gets in etc. thing, it also means it’s easier for things to find their way in to him and for him to let things out. Meanwhile here, there’s more the sense of immense tension — a harder, more determined/deliberate lack of being able to move than the total helplessness of being stuck in the mind!Ossuary, but with some of the same quality. Illario tries to get in to find him and in his way I really do think Lucanis is trying to reach out to Illario as well as he knows how, but there’s a rigidness there that stops anything from really getting through or changing. Illario’s guilt trip letter after Sea of Blood saying that control is the quality he’s always most associated with Lucanis makes a lot of sense when you read this short story, even though I think Illario is mistaking ‘control’ for ‘deadening anything too vulnerable or ‘frivolous’ until I’m just a tool that can do a job’. That letter is transparently Illario deliberately pressing down on a bruise he knows to be tender, but it feels like there’s some kernel of truth to it beneath that which makes the sting all the worse.

— Up ahead, Lucanis spied the servants’ entrance. If he could reach it, there was just enough space to wedge his body into the covered niche above the door. Not easily, of course, but nothing ever was.

*Resigned Lucanis voice* Nothing is ever easy. (He does literally say this word for word in one of Bellara’s quests, and in exactly the tone you’d expect haha. He is my favourite person of all time)

— Lucanis thought about securing the entrance—leaving it unlocked could raise suspicion—but chose not to in case Illario decided to work tonight. He could already hear his cousin’s honeyed excuses— But seducing a beautiful woman is work! He snorted and pushed farther inside.

I do believe a certain amount of affectionate dunking is part of Lucanis’ love language and it’s too bad that’s kind of become a sore point/unequal power balance between him and Illario because it is frequently so funny fhdakj. Also kind of sweet to see the precedent for Lucanis sort of… keeping people he loves in his head like this, the locks in Inner Demons are clearly literalizations of a process he already sort of does naturally. He listens to the Illario and Caterina in his head multiple times during this story. I’m repeating my ‘this man is so desperately lonely in a way he doesn’t know how to solve’ point for emphasis. A common affliction in many of the Veilguard main cast, Solas of course being the most egregious and ongoing example. This game has Themes and it’s sticking to them haha <3<3<3

— The cold opulence of the place reminded Lucanis of a Chantry rather than a home.

Very interesting observation, now that we’ve seen Villa Dellamorte for ourselves! Is all I’ll say. (*Spite voice* Home? …Smells like linseed oil and dust)

Atlases bearing the visages of past Archons held up vaulted ceilings glittering with mosaic depictions of Tevinter’s golden age. The cost of such a commission must have been astronomical—both in coin and lives. How many slaves had gone blind gilding each individual tile? How many backs had been broken from hauling and placing stone after stone?

There was patriotism and there was obsession. Neither was worth it.

Again. Very interesting observations from a man raised in a mansion built on spilled blood and with Crow decorations anywhere you turn right down to the wallpaper haha. Tevinter/specifically the Venatori lets him indulge in some ‘clean’ anger and disdain that he can’t have back home because it’s, y’know. Home. He may not have a lot of illusions about the Crows, but he also is deeply bound to them. Lucanis will sublimate his anger into ANYTHING including turning it on himself before he lets it touch something he loves.

— Brief detour away from the general/worldstate agnostic approach of this post to my personal shenanigans, but…. Lucanis ‘breaking into morbid nursery rhymes internally while on a murder spree’ Dellamorte 🤝 Ellaryen ‘absent-mindedly reciting funeral rites in his head in the middle of a fight to keep his rhythm and also start to get it out of the way ASAP while people fall like flies around him’ Ingellvar. Made for each other, truly.

— Too bad we never got to see Lucanis using a garotte in the main game, that’s clearly one of his go-tos normally. I suppose trying to do stealth sections with Taash on the team is a tall order even for Lucanis Dellamorte. The Crows AXE their regards!!! ]>:D

— The dead weight of the first man pulled the second one up until they both hung around the limestone Archon’s nape like a loose cravat.

Once more, I love Courtney Wood’s writing style. What a mental image. The tone of light comedy as Lucanis 9-5s his way patiently through all these guards is pitch perfect.

— Spread out. Lucanis mouthed the words as the guard gave the order.

This dude really is out here doing his job like it’s a video game level he’s done a hundred times before hahaha. He’d be skipping dialogue and sequence breaking all over the place if he could. (Speedrunner Lucanis for modern AU, there’s a concept anyone can have for free that’s hilarious. He does cooking videos, knife maintenance videos and insane video game speedruns interchangeably on his channel and never speaks a single word nor leaves a note through text in any of them god bless. He has three followers no update schedule goes years without making a video and has never spoken to anyone online. He is my babygirl.)

— One for silence.

Two for surprise.

Three for good measure.

Four’s exercise.

Five for a slaughter.

Six for the thrill.

Seven means more sovereigns.

“Eight marks the final kill,” Illario said, coming to stand next to him.

The whole nursery rhyme, and Illario coming in with the unspeakably sinister final line here, considering what we know happens not even that long after this job! Again the connection there is between them, though — they were thinking about the exact same thing, counting it out with the same old remembered words.

“Do you still recite that old nursery rhyme? The one Caterina made us memorize during training?”

Lucanis moved to retrieve his throwing knives. “What can I say? It’s catchy.”

“That’s a word for it.” Illario glanced at the swaying guards overhead. “You know, if the Vints ever learn to look up, you’re screwed.”

“They’d have to stop looking down their noses.” He narrowed his eyes. “Your tunic’s rumpled.”

Illario flashed a sheepish grin. “You weren’t the only one tussling with guards.”

“Tussling, huh?” Lucanis shook his head. “That’s a word for it.”

“I’m happy to kiss and tell, but shouldn’t we do something about this?” Illario wrinkled his nose and nodded toward the sticky fluid seeping out from underneath the slain guards.

My nebulous vibe has always been that they’re basically the same age with Lucanis a tiny bit older, but IMMENSE younger sibling little shit energy from him in this moment fhdksfas glorious. Sheepish grin is also a very fun look on Illario I wish they’d leaned in a bit more on that capacity for him in-game. If he read as more calculatedly bumbling it’d change some of the scenes a lot in terms of feeling, I think

— “Never known you to have a soft heart,” Illario muttered.

Lucanis’s right cheek muscle twitched. “She won’t talk.”

“This isn’t Antiva. We’re not heroes here.”

“We’re not heroes anywhere, cousin.”

Illario rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. The Venatori already have your name. If they learn your face—”

“I’ll grow a beard.” Lucanis smirked. “They’ll never see me coming.”

Illario’s frustration deflated. He grinned reluctantly. “That cavalier attitude’s going to get you killed.”

Lucanis turned the key until the bolt unlatched. “It’s served me well so far.”

a) so it’s Illario who’ll refuse to take things seriously if he doesn’t feel like it, is it, Lucanis lol, b) ‘I’ll grow a beard’ :’) well. He did. Do you think Illario thinks about that every time he looks at him now, c) owie owie owie the foreshadowing

I think being a hero is not important to Lucanis at all, being a professional/being able to do the job is. (Being the perfect professional buys him getting to do hero things when his heart calls him to, but the role of hero itself is clearly not a priority or something he particularly wants.)

Lucanis clearly mostly works alone — I wonder how often Illario has come along before. We know he has pulled ‘soft heart’ moves before this, from in-game banter, but probably without Crow witnesses. How much does even Caterina know about? Might be some proof in the pile of how much he trusts Illario that he’s so blatant about it here.

— Lucanis gestured for Illario to follow as he slipped through the entryway. They stood for a moment, quiet and still, allowing their eyes to adjust. Ten paces ahead, a stairwell materialized in the shadows. eir descent was slow going. Wrought iron made for easy creaks and groans. Each step was a test of patience—and balance. Lucanis went first, showing Illario where to place his feet.

And

“He was my cousin, but we were more like brothers, really. Always getting himself into every sort of trouble. And I was always right behind him, you know? Always.” Illario’s voice suddenly grew thick with emotion. “Now there’s nobody for me to follow.” (From The Wake)

:) ahahaha. Ha.

Both of them independently using the ‘but we’re more like brothers’ phrasing exactly the same way too. Alright. Okay. I’m fine

— All at once, the room became aware strangers were present. One by one, they moaned a horrifying chorus of despair. Lucanis stumbled back, his mouth dry. Something inside snapped. Death’s too good for this bastard.

Illario touched his arm. Only then did Lucanis realize how quickly he was breathing. He closed his eyes. Remember your training , he told himself, and suddenly, he could hear the tapping of his grandmother’s cane, the hard elegance of her voice. There is no place for emotion in killing. It’s sloppy. File it down. Make it useful.

Illario being able to notice Lucanis being incredibly upset when he’s too overwhelmed to register/be aware of it himself and bringing him back to himself with nothing more than a touch to the arm is not devastating to me at all. It’s fine. In Inner Demons, even Viago and Teia fail to recognize that Lucanis is about to come completely apart psychologically, but again… I think Illario really does know his cousin better than anyone in a lot of ways. (And less than anyone in other ways, but hey, that’s family for ya lol)

Make it useful, he repeated to himself. With slow, controlled breaths, Lucanis flushed the rage pumping through his veins until he could think clearly.

I’m actually so happy they went away from focusing on the concept of wrath/passion as the touchstone for Lucanis’ character and angled it more towards the interpersonal issues he has with anger and with his sense of self than his rage at cruelty and injustice like this — that starts to step on the toes of Anders’ narrative space as a bisexual possessed disaster without bringing anything particularly new to the equation, which would have been a shame. Also as I’ve made no secret of I love what they are doing with him in the game SO MUCH I can turn him gently around to gaze at him forever

— “What are you doing?” Illario whispered.

“Breaking their shackles.”

Illario stared. “That’s not the job.”

“Fuck the job.”

I think Illario is the only person Lucanis would ever say that in front of at this point. (See also: his point about honesty in their line of work towards the end.) This is a BIG admission from him, that there could be anything more important than the work Caterina raised them to — than Caterina’s approval and recognition. And what a horrible hurt that must be for Illario — ‘you’re willing to risk incurring Caterina’s wrath for total strangers on a whim, and yet not for me??’. (They both seem to recognize that death is secondary as a motivator here, Lucanis would rather die than let Caterina down, that’s the easy way out, and he’s putting that on the table frfr with the shit he’s pulling here.) Also part of what makes Illario fear Lucanis is rapidly spiralling/hurtling towards the edge of a cliff, probably, this acting on impulse is clearly not an everyday sort of thing for him. We know he’s made decisions of his own on jobs before, but probably not on this scale/in front of another Crow.

There’s going to be room for so much ‘...why could you change for them and not for me? (why are they worth choosing to live for, and I wasn’t?)’ hurt on Illario’s side towards Rook and the Lighthouse crew after the events of the game. Maybe not as much on the Minrathous route, but even there. Like he doesn’t have much of a right to that after pulling the attempted fratricide card (that’s going to be the refrain of the rest of Illario’s life huh :’) entirely self-inflicted yet awful to have to live with; the Illario Dellamorte post Veilguard story), which only makes it worse to contemplate! Fun times in viddy games.

— A+ body horror writing going on here, of course, hate every single thing about this thanks for asking!

—To his right, Lucanis sensed Illario readying his dagger. He gently grabbed his cousin’s wrist and shook his head. Illario gawked at him, his jaw clenched.

The Wigmaker began the walk back toward the stairs. A groaning lament followed as he passed. When he was close enough to touch, Illario tensed—as if to lunge forward. Lucanis tightened his hold, his thumb finding the pressure point at the base of his wrist. The dagger fell from Illario’s grasp. Lucanis swiped it up before it clanged to the ground.

What are you doing? Illario mouthed.

Again, Lucanis motioned him to stand down.

Once they heard Ambrose climb the stairs and close the door, Illario wrenched his arm free.

“Have you lost your mind? We had him!”

“He doesn’t deserve a quick death.”

“Did you forget the mess you left upstairs? What do you think will happen when Ambrose finds his bodyguards slaughtered?”

“Hopefully he panics. I want him scared.”

“He’ll flee,” Illario asserted. “And this contract will be forfeit. Your life will be forfeit.”

Illario ‘cousin I am trying to have a fucking INTERVENTION with you here why am I more concerned about whether you live or die than you are!!!’ Dellamorte. His cousin is seemingly losing his fucking mind and playing with the one thing Caterina values above all and possibly would sacrifice even Lucanis for: the integrity of their House among the Crows. He’s seeing Lucanis determinedly, near methodically setting himself up for death no matter what path he ends up going down. This would be. Stressful. To have to witness, I imagine.

I do think Lucanis is passively suicidal in the way that he would vastly prefer to die on a job before he’d ever have to face the impossible choice that awaits them with the First Talon title back home — where he’s forced to let down either Caterina or Illario, possibly to spend the rest of his life on something he doesn’t want and might cost him his relationship with Illario, and is unable to deal with the thought of it so he just Avoids for all he’s worth. And he’s worth a lot that way. Which Illario clearly also recognizes and might be part of this freakout — having to watch your cousinbrother casually preparing to fall on his own sword for what seems like basically no fathomable reason (for these STRANGERS and not for me!!?!?!) and not be able to get through to him no matter what you try... you know. It’s kind of just a bad time all round for Illario too. He goes and chooses to do all the wrong things about it, of course, his talent for making everything worse in every way he possibly could is unparalleled (affectionate and derogatory), but I have a lot of empathy for where he’s coming from emotionally in a lot of ways. While you exist I’m nothing, and when you are gone I am nothing. And after you come back. Guess what. I’m still nothing. Imagine that. The Illario Dellamorte story.

(Lucanis has also seen a lot of really horrible shit on the job lately, Venatori bullshit being what it is. That stuff must start to build up after a while, him finally snapping here makes a lot of sense.)

— “Illario—”

But the other Crow wasn’t finished. “I thought the plan was to have a few laughs, slit some throats—not release a demon swarm!”

“Plans change,” Lucanis replied. His gloved palm covered the door handle.

“Well, for the record, I preferred the other one.”

“Noted.”

Aw. This is my main proof that Illario does in fact understand the plea for company behind Lucanis asking him to come along on this job. Possibly better than Lucanis understands that himself, which could perhaps be. Exasperating to deal with — but he did also come along and with only light complaining etc. I umm. love them both. Some more musings about how Illario has clearly been the person most responsible for/involved in Lucanis having any kind of social life before Veilguard times:

Comment Lucanis has around some more party districts of Minrathous in-game: “The nightlife was always more Illario's thing. He said I should get out more. Fulfilling Crow contracts didn't count.” (Illario is a terrible little fuckboy murderlad but consider what he’s had to deal with over the years…braver than any us marine etc. he’s been the one trying to convince Lucanis to take care of himself and maybe even have a good time at some point for like 20 years, a monumental task we know it takes a village/Lighthouse to make headway with. A man who has had to say ‘hey we should do something fun. No not a job with extra garrotting Lucanis Maker’s breath I was thinking a party or something’ more times than any of us have had hot dinners)

Lucanis, trust me! Take this contract and we’ll be the toast of Treviso. Would I lead you astray? But I can imagine your face at that question. A better question, then: Would you truly leave me to my own devices? What would I do without you? Come, cousin, it will be just like last summer. I’ll buy the wine afterwards. —Illario

Letter we find in the room in Villa Dellamorte where it’s implied Illario has been staying since staging his little failcoup — it’s right across the hall from where he’s imprisoned his grandmother btw and I have a pet theory that it’s Lucanis’ old room. Illario Dellamorte what is wrong with you (so many things).

Illario has seemingly been drinking and reading this letter — this letter that Lucanis kept after receiving it, so Illario must have found it among his belongings at some point after his ‘death’ and has also kept it around ever since — in the same room where there’s a burned letter from Zara in the fireplace, even though the house is filled to the rafters with the Ventatori and trying to hide evidence of that connection is thus uh. Well it seems a bit late in the game to be worrying about that, is all I’m saying. It lends some credence to the idea that him crossing out Lucanis’ name in the family tree and scribbling ‘DEMON’ over it probably does carry some real emotional charge and isn’t just a tantrum/uncomplicated show of jealousy.

So historically Illario has gone out of his way to spend time with Lucanis, and he seemingly is usually the one to reach out/take initiative in that? Lucanis clearly appreciates it — he kept that silly little letter (I am INCONSOLABLE about it btw), that comment he makes about the blight-beached boat in the Hossberg Wetlands that ‘Illario and I went on a sailing trip once. The boat ended up like that one, minus the blight (paraphrased yet very dear to me)’. Social connection is a need Illario has recognized in Lucanis before and offered even when Lucanis himself wouldn’t think to ask for it, is what I’m trying to say. I think. *sigh* listen you’ve gotten this far in the post hopefully you realize I am not entirely sure what I’m saying most of the time I’m trying to nail light to a wall here please have patience with me fhaskj

— Lucanis seems to navigate by sound a lot (which makes sense, considering how much of his job happens in the dark). Spite navigates mostly though a sense of (supernatural) smell. They’ve got a lot of eye imagery around them, but sight is not actually the most central sense for either of them. Nothing more coherent to add to that just observations haha

— you ever think about the fact that despite everything caterina is ultimately unwilling to let go of Illario, and Illario is unwilling to let go of her. Me neither.

— “Where are the bodies?” Illario asked.

Effe shrank into herself. “I moved them.”

“Not by yourself, you didn’t.” He turned to Lucanis, a smug sneer on his face. “I told you she’d talk.”

Proof Illario is not in fact an idiot and recognizes the basic logistics of a matter, and why his ‘oooh I think Zara must be back in Vyrantium already how inconvenient…’ ploy must be extra ‘...uh-huh cousin’ sus to Lucanis in Veilguard fhdjask. Trying to keep his terminator grandmother safely under lock and key while his cousin is back from the dead and possibly is now a demon with his face because of you and also you have to keep track of what lies you’ve told to what people must be incredibly stressful tbf I wouldn’t be keeping a particularly cool head either

— Back down the hall, something wet slammed against the studded door.

Effe’s bravado crumbled. “What was that?”

“Take her,” Lucanis told Illario. “Find the others.”

“Other what?” His eyes darted to the elf. “ Slaves? Absolutely not.”

Lucanis continued as if Illario had agreed, “There’s a statue with a passage—like the one we used before. It’s not far. You should be able to escape in the chaos.”

Illario blanched. “Did you not hear me? I said—”

“Athima will help you. She’s the elf we met earlier.”

“I don’t give a damn what her name is. I’m not—”

“Once Ambrose is dealt with, I’ll meet you at the docks.”

“Lucanis!” Illario shouted. “We are not revolutionaries.”

Lucanis inhaled, his nostrils flaring. Illario was right. The Antivan Crows were assassins, not freedom fighters. Back home, people liked to romanticize, but Lucanis knew what he was. Still, his fingers twitched.

“They are not responsible for their master’s mistakes.” He locked eyes with his cousin.

Illario tried to remain resolute, but it was like touching hot steel. Sighing, he cursed and turned to Effe. “Come on,” Illario snapped.

She glanced toward Lucanis. He gave her a reassuring nod.

“My cousin may be a snob, but he’s true to his word.”

“Are you? ” she asked, referring to his promise about Ambrose.

“The Wigmaker will die tonight,” Lucanis affirmed. “But you have to go. It’s about to become very dangerous.”

How much do you want to bet Illario is going ‘fuck it’s like trying to have a staring contest with Caterina herself’ on the inside right here, with all the emotions that may involve lmao. Lucanis is getting Illario out of there before shit really hits the fan too, notably — where Illario might see mostly lack of respect for his skills/what he could bring to the fight (there’s not none of that from Lucanis’ side either, but less than I feel Illario might be imagining), I think there’s a protectiveness, an unwillingness to risk Illario when the real madness shakes loose. *Lucanis voice* I mean it’s fine if I die obviously. but you don’t get to. get in the fucking car illario

I think Lucanis adds the ‘My cousin is a snob, but he’s true to his word’ to reassure Effe that she can trust Illario/make Illario seem less scary/intimidating to her — both invoking the familial connection and the gentle dig to show that ‘see, I trust him, I’m not the least bit threatened by him, you don’t have to be either’. I don’t imagine ‘snob’ would be particularly upsetting to Illario either so while it is another datapoint in the grand tradition that is Lucanis-led public Illario slander, this might be one of the least egregious examples of it lol. (Implied lack of skill would hit way harder than anything about their social standing, I’m imagining)

— Lucanis has such a desperate need and desire to care for someone, as evidenced by how he reacts when he gets a whole Lighthouse full of people to do exactly that and springs into action like he’s been born for nothing else. He is that predator turned sheepdog all anxiety all the time he transparently projects onto Assan in that one banter with Davrin. That instinct has clearly been deep in him all this time, waiting for the right ground to grow in. To further his parallel with Davrin in so many things, there is a big part of him that is a protector as much as the part that’s a hunter, and it has finally found its place.

And like… can you imagine being Illario seeing that. Or this. Obviously it’s the right thing to do morally but on the petty small emotional and interpersonal level. Unbearable fhjksa.

— Lucanis felt no sympathy. They were, all of them, Venatori supporters, who either knew what Ambrose was doing or chose to turn a blind eye to indulge their own vanity. Ignorance is bliss, not innocence.

Extremely interesting thing to think for someone raised in the Antivan Crows! I do think he actually holds himself to that standard, though — he doesn’t consider himself in any way an innocent. Even in situations where he is actually innocent, like how he feels about his time in the Ossuary. It’s easier for him to conceptualize that the demons/spirits in there were as innocent as anyone else trapped down there than to accept that maybe he didn’t deserve what happened to him either.

We’re also seeing the groundwork here for one of my favourite aspects of his character: the fact that he has an enormous, nearly unstoppable and instinctive on a kneejerk sort of level capacity for empathy — something he uses to great effect as a tool in his professional life to understand and predict his targets and the people around them, and which makes him an extremely devoted friend in his personal one — and yet is much more sparing with his sympathy. Those are in fact separate mental processes! And it’s fascinating to see someone in which the divide can be so clean and stark. (Not to keep beating this particular drum, but something deeply neuroatypical going on with this man long before the whole demon thing, he’s just found his niche and functions to the point of excelling in his particular field lol. Uneven skill profile: can intuit the thought processes of Tevinter fanatics or how word spreads through a community (as seen with the inn owner at the beginning) to a T from about two casual glances and find a way to stab anything up to and including a god cloud, cannot for the LIFE of him have an emotional conversation with his brother who he’s known all his life or understand what he’s thinking, because that all falls apart at the drop of a hat when he has to actually engage interpersonally himself and understand and interpret his own feelings on top as well in real time. Relatable. Is all I’ll say.)

— The mage’s jaw pulsed. “You think you can come into my Imperium and act as judge and executioner?” Lucanis opened his mouth to respond, but Ambrose anticipated his answer. “Don’t say, ‘ Sì! ’”

That earned a genuine smile from Lucanis. “Normally, there’s no judgment—only a contract. But for you, Ambrose, I made an exception.”

The Wigmaker raised a brow. “Oh? What makes me so special?”

“You upset my delicate sensibilities.”

It was Ambrose’s turn to laugh.

“I thought a Crow could stomach anything—for the right price.”

Lucanis leveled the Wigmaker with a pointed look. “Not red lyrium.”

“Morality is not static. Right and wrong are a matter of perspective.” Ambrose’s words were practiced and tired as if he had given the same reasoning a hundred times.

Lucanis continued his advance, refusing to engage in the Wigmaker’s rhetoric. Nothing irritated him more than self-righteous excuses. If you’re going to do something terrible, just own it.

For your bounteous amounts of fuckery you have been promoted from the ‘contract’ category to ‘enemy’ category! Congratulations Ambrose it’s your special day. Also this makes a lot of sense with how he seems to feel about Solas too.

— Hopelessness flooded the mage’s eyes. “One day, someone will turn your work against you. Only then will you have some semblance of the emptiness you’ve made me feel.” With his good hand, he gathered what was left of the wigs, hugging the locks to his chest.

Lucanis experienced a twinge of disappointment, kindling for rage. He expected more fight from a high-ranking Venatori. He thought of the Wigmaker’s workshop, of the prisoners, their bellies full of poison, hanging like butchered pigs in stale, suffocating darkness. “Get up, Ambrose,” he growled. “You don’t get to do that—you don’t get to quit.”

…

Panting heavily, Lucanis regarded the creature’s collapse without joy or anger. A vermilion fire engulfed the carcass, leaving nothing but a brittle husk. The other abominations stirred.

“You have your vengeance,” Lucanis rasped.

But his words did not reach them. They stared, snarling and ready. He squeezed the grip of his sword, preparing for another fight—then the pressure behind his skull eased. Without the Wigmaker, the demons had no anchor in the waking world. Gradually, the abominations disintegrated into ash. With the source of their anger gone, the spirits of vengeance returned to the Fade, allowing the dead to rest.

Only then did Lucanis exhale and let relief wash over him.

“Contract complete.”

Again I’m glad they didn’t go with building on that in the end because I like what they did do with him so much better, but you can see here where they were laying the groundwork for more of a ‘righteous wrath’/outward facing central pillar for Lucanis’ character here. I’m on record as adoring the internal angle/more of the focus on disrupted self, and I think they also built really well on the subtextual family dynamics going on through this story, that’s a much more fascinating angle for me personally. This instinct for/longing to indulge in stubborn opposition sure does still exist in him, though, that’s such a fun part of him to make externalized as a whole little guy riding shotgun in his soul

— That’s one way to make a point, Lucanis thought, coming to a stop.

Have I said enough about how much I love him. Because I do. One of his early very good ‘...wtf’ moments, so plenteous and marvellous in the game itself. (Not including all the body horror he’s actually looking at here b/c it’s truly disgusting and upsetting, excellent job as always Courtney Woods)

— Sensing its weakness and spurred on by the demons of vengeance within, the other abominations began to surround it.

That’s it, Lucanis smiled encouragingly. Good little demons. Turning his sword over in his palm, he cut across the roof.

Lmao. It’s interesting that Lucanis has a slightly… odd relationship with spirits/demons already here, for a non-mage and someone from an Andrastian culture — he’s able to think of them sort of as a natural part of an ecosystem that you can turn to your advantage if you’re careful and respect their unpredictable nature as part of the natural landscape as it were, and he extends his remarkable capacity for empathy to them in the way that he thinks about what their motivations and drives are in the same way he does with people — ‘you have your vengeance’. The baseline Chantry doctrine about spirits is basically ‘Always Chaotic Evil, Stay Clear’, but Lucanis seems to think of them as like… fellow predators. You know the way wolves and ravens will sometimes ‘team up’ and have symbiotic relationships? Kind of like that. Which is very him hahaha I mean sure Crows hire people for things all the time and if you can pay them in just doing your job anyway… it makes a lot of sense that this is the dude who’d think to earnestly strike a deal with a spirit despite the cultural narratives he was raised with, is what I’m getting at

— Lucanis reached the docks just before dawn. Knowing Illario as he did, he passed their ship’s allotted berth to check the nearby taverns. After a quick glance up and down the harbor, Lucanis settled on the Nug Queen purely because it was the cleanest establishment of the lot. When he entered, limping and bloody, the barkeep glowered.

“Walk out the way you came,” the dwarf instructed. He had a tawny mustache that was twirled and waxed at both ends.

“I’m looking for my cousin,” Lucanis explained. (🥺He’s literally just looking for his cousin…)

. . .

Lucanis prepared to leave—then he heard Illario’s silvery voice flattering one of the waiters.

“Oy!” the dwarf called out as Lucanis staggered toward the row of booths lining the left side of the tavern. “Exit’s that way!”

His bellowing drew Illario’s attention away from the handsome servant. Upon seeing Lucanis, he jumped to his feet. “Andraste’s holy cabbage, you look like shit.”

“Get that man to stop yelling at me,” Lucanis said. He plopped down in the booth, taking a moment to rest his eyes, while Illario soothed the irate proprietor.

‘Get that man to stop yelling at me, Lucanis said’ is my favourite line in this whole short story and always has been fhdskjfhsa it’s just so good. ‘Illario snooze that guy for me I never figured out how to do that non-lethally’. And Illario drops everything and DOES get to work on snoozing that guy. They’re headed right for disaster but I. adore them.

Andraste’s holy cabbage HIGH on my list of extremely good Andrastian oaths btw thank you Illario.

I wonder if this inn was supposed to be an in-game location at some point, it gets such a striking (and hilarious) description.

‘Silvery voice’ :’) well that got lost along the way haha. I honestly think the dialogue as written in the game could have landed differently with some changes in voice direction — if the actor wasn’t doing quite so much of an obvious Ze Evil Voice performance, the read on him might be slightly more ambiguous. (His immense susness would still be the same, of course, that’s just built in structurally, but I maintain that that storyline is more about chipping away at Lucanis’ denial that he’s been holding on to for so long down in the Ossuary until it has to crack open and crumble, less about the whodunnit of it all. We know who dunnit and so does Lucanis deep down basically from the first moment, I believe, he just can’t bear it. Not unlike the way Harding deep down knows what the red shade haunting her is, but is unable to accept and take that in until she confronts it, actually! Lucanis and Harding have some parallels going on in the deep there. People pleasers grappling with how to hold on to their healthy anger. Lovers of turnips. *Lucanis voice* Everyone likes turnips.)

Lucanis shambling around bleeding and absent-minded on post-adrenaline autopilot after that utter horror show (again I sheltered you from the body horror here but. Holy cannoli) until he finds the safety of Illario and then collapsing into the booth and almost nodding off b/c Illario will take care of it he knows how to talk to people, even though Lucanis never really relaxes he very nearly does here…………. You see the trouble is that the love is very much there. It just makes everything worse, but it is there. Always. And I’m afraid not even the Ossuary could change that, even when it changed everything else.

Like… From Illario’s perspective Lucanis just sweeps in bleeding and limping with an imperious demand after shooing him away before — because he doesn’t have the inside view that the bluntness is because Lucanis feels safe with him. This is the sort of ‘pls solve this thing I don’t understand and find overwhelming and annoying’ a child extends to a parent/attachment figure ‘imperiousness’ to me, not an order from a superior. From which I think you can read some things about their dynamic growing up, aside from my ‘Illario has been 80% of Lucanis’ social skills most of their lives’ running joke lol.

Both of them can form surface relationships with other people, mostly with transactional elements to them — Lucanis with the Villa Dellamorte staff growing up and people he meets and helps on the job, the ‘friends’ Illario sarcastically accuses him of making earlier in the story, and Illario clearly leaving a Necropolis-sized graveyard of shallow connections both romantic and otherwise behind him without ever getting deeper into it himself, gratification and a feeling of control and competence and entertainment all in one with no true intimacy behind it — but I think Lucanis is right when he tells Rook that Illario has been his only actual friend, before them (and the team, obviously). And for all his extroverted fuckboy antics, I think Lucanis is Illario’s only real friend too, I doubt any other relationship has ever reached him at the core but Caterina and Lucanis. They have been. SO weirdly socialized, they struggle so very badly to make real connections outside the family in their individual ways, feast or famine as their approaches are. And part of that is that in their childhood they’ve been forced to try to meet their emotional needs with each other in ways that were doomed to fail; things you should get from a safe parental figure and a group of peers, community, not your brother who’s basically the same age as you and just as traumatized and psychologically malnourished. Things they will not get from the Crows, a community that is also the constant threat that ate everyone else in the family, and not from Caterina, who aside from the general cultural Crow brutality in overseeing their upbringing is too busy negotiating with the ghosts of five children, eight grandchildren by making sure her last two grandsons survive, not realizing that it means she has not taught them the first thing about how to live. Or, perhaps as likely, that is just not particularly a priority to her, she values her control over them and thus perceived control of the future and continuance of House Dellamorte way beyond their happiness. (God it’s all such a real-feeling mess because the love is also there and real, it’s just that that makes everything worse and even more tangled. Family!!!!)

Caterina has set up this dynamic of Lucanis as the golden child (he can do no wrong and thus is allowed to do no wrong nor want anything for himself she didn’t let him have; never making a mistake in life is something that is normal to demand of yourself and possible to achieve etc.) and Illario as the fuckup kid, the lesser one, we keep him around for sentimental value of course he’s family but he’s largely ornamental lol. (Sorry about your life, Illario. I’m not sure whether being her favourite or not being her favourite leaves someone with the worse deal psychologically long-term, but your situation is particularly undignified and thankless I will grant you that.) Illario is much more faithfully the Crow Caterina raised him to be, where Lucanis uses his competence and Caterina’s personal affection for him to get to keep and protect some of the parts of himself the role of Crow should forbid. And she STILL openly and unabashedly loves Lucanis more, while Illario cannot do a single thing that pleases her no matter what he tries. Lucanis at least has Caterina’s recognition and affection, what does Illario have? What does he have that could make him anything in this Crow eat Crow world?

Which is why Illario needs Lucanis to choose him over Caterina with an intensity and psychological urgency that again, is more like a child needing a parent to put them first or treat them like they matter to develop the sense of a worthy self. (Or Caterina to choose him over Lucanis, but that’s never going to happen while Lucanis is still alive, and probably not even if he really were dead.) Lucanis can’t give him that, because he is unwilling and unable to give up either of the two attachment relationships he has left, even if it means he has to mangle and push down his own self to maintain those bonds. He will freeze to hold on to what little he has, even when what he has also hurts him and they are hurting each other. At this point in the short story I think Lucanis wants Illario to be honest with him the way Lucanis is honest with Illario (which unfortunately also means Illario gets some of his more unpleasant sides), and Illario can’t give him that because when he tries Lucanis straight up refuses to listen — can’t listen, because what Illario is saying would disrupt everything Lucanis is trying so desperately to hold together at any cost. Again, Lucanis asking Illario for something he then punishes or ignores him for actually giving. They’ve had to be everything to each other and they just can’t be. Not even through any fault of their own, that’s just how it works. And Lucanis starts to find his way out of that during the game, make other connections that do help, but I'm not sure Illario does or will. Don’t look at me and don’t speak to me I’ll never be okay again

- “Drink?” his cousin offered, returning with two glasses and a bottle of wine. “It’s expensive.”

Lucanis accepted with a faint nod.

“Some say a bribe spoils the vintage,” Illario mused while pouring, “but I think it tastes all the sweeter.”

“Effe and the others. Did you get them to—”

“Yes, yes,” Illario snapped, “I did my good deed for the year.”

The two paused to sip their wine.

Lucanis rolled the liquid over his tongue. Bribery had not spoiled this bottle, at least.

“Camille didn’t make it,” he said finally.

“Who?”

“The guard captain.”

“Ah,” Illario said, nodding in recognition. “Well, that does free me from promises I didn’t intend to keep. And Ambrose?”

“You have to ask?”

“Fair enough.”

THANK YOU, LUCANIS!!! THAT IS THE THING YOU SHOULD BE SAYING!!!! THANK YOU FOR GOING ALONG WITH MY NONSENSE THAT I JUST SPRANG ON YOU ILLARIO!!!!! I’M HAPPY TO SEE YOU AND THAT YOU’RE ALRIGHT WOULD NOT BE OUT OF ORDER PERHAPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OH MY GOD I love him more than anyone in the world but he’s infuriating sometimes especially when dealing with Illario fhdskja. You can tell how much he does trust/value Illario because this is the first time he relaxes a bit in the whole story — the mental image of Lucanis standing there with his huge puppy eyes dripping rivers of blood onto the floorboards in his fucking… batman ass getup like ‘🥺is my cousin here’ is so. It’s so much — but again you have to SHOW that somehow too Lucanis he can’t read your mind. I think it’s what he’s clumsily trying to do with telling Illario about the guard captain, a little bit — that’s an olive branch/trying to give Illario the peace of mind he just gave to him about the fallout of the mission, even if it’s a sadder outcome — but that’s also a sign that he’s completely missed on understanding what Illario would value here. (For Lucanis someone he flirted with being torn to ribbons five minutes later would be a big deal no matter what, probably, for Illario it’s all just business. Whomst??? Oh her lol.) Illario tries to fall into their pattern of companionable bullshit because that seems to be as much as Lucanis will accept from him as a show of care, but even that Lucanis breaks him off on, with what to Illario seems like doubting his skills/ability to carry out the job Lucanis handed him (Lucanis seems to want to know for his own peace of mind more than that, tho, from my vibe here; he did make a promise to Effe).

“That his?” [Illario] gestured toward the dark stains on Lucanis’s coat.

“Mostly.”

His cousin’s brows drew together. “Do you need a healer? The ship will have one, but if you can’t wait—”

“I’m fine,” Lucanis stated.

“All right,” Illario said, topping off his glass. “We’ll just pretend that’s wine you’re dripping all over the table.”

“What do you want me to say?”

How many times do you think Illario has had to rock up to Thedas emergency care with his cousin like ‘well he says he’s fine and to not worry about him, which in my experience is Lucanisese for ‘I’m about to bleed out and die on the spot’.’ As someone who has now been on that side of Lucanis’ ‘*actively bleeding from the eyes* I’m fine don’t worry about me’... y’know I’m not saying Illario was right or anything (he never is (affectionate) that’s his charm) but I do have a certain amount of sympathy one does start to lose one’s mind after a while. Yeah I am making silly jests and japes to avoid talking about this part because it’s so painful to me to contemplate thanks for asking. To be serious, though: being forced to watch Lucanis do this to himself, and then being asked to pretend he can’t even see it to enable it… that’s a big ask and one you should not be making of him, Lucanis. He’s not doing it intentionally, and it’s because he is also in so much pain over this that he has no idea how to handle, but it doesn’t stop it from being fucked up and unfair.

‘I don’t understand what you want from me/I don’t know understand how to give it to you’ and ‘So we’re just going to pretend that nothing’s wrong and you’re fine and nothing needs to change, you can keep going like this indefinitely?’

Illario’s gaze grew hard. “How long are you going to keep doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Caterina’s bidding.”

The wine turned in Lucanis’s mouth. “Illario. Stop.”

“If I was in charge, you wouldn’t have to do this anymore,” he cajoled. “You could quit.”

Lucanis stared at his cousin. “I don’t want to quit.”

Illario sat back. The distance between them suddenly felt much wider than a table.

“Even if it kills you,” Illario whispered.

“Death is my calling,” Lucanis stated, matter-of-fact. “Just as yours is to become First Talon.” He smiled, hoping to ease the tension, but Illario’s posture remained taut.

“And if Caterina disagrees? If she thinks you’re the better man for the job—”

“I don’t want it, Illario,” Lucanis insisted.

“But you wouldn’t refuse.”

“It’s impossible to refuse Caterina,” Lucanis admitted reluctantly. “Only prolong her, until she sees reason.”

He knew it wasn’t the answer Illario wanted, but it was the truth. And in their line of work, honesty was hard to come by.

Illario exhaled and lifted his wineglass in salute. “To reason, then.”

“To reason,” Lucanis echoed.

The two Crows clinked the rims of their glasses together, then prepared for the long journey home

Sobbing and crying and dying. So much stuff going on under the surface here. This particular conversation clearly haunts Lucanis for a long time after, it’s where most of the Illario lines in the Mind!Ossuary are taken from. ‘You’ll choose her over me every time, even if it means death and leaving me behind alone. No matter what I do I’m never going to be good enough for her or you, no one is ever going to choose me or put me first or think I matter at all’. Delicate overtones of ‘You love even the work more than you love me’. The more mundane layers of jealousy, of being the unfavorite, the Cain and Abel of it all. The I can’t grow when you always get all the sun.

The distance between them suddenly feeling much bigger to Lucanis… in a way I think that’s Illario’s side of ‘it wasn’t the answer he wanted, but it was the truth. And in their line of work, honesty is hard to come by’. Just for a moment Illario drops the act, he stops trying to reach out to try to find him again, to do his ‘job’ in the relationship of smoothing it over and pretending everything is fine or at least sustainable, and the distance that has slowly grown between them over the years is laid bare. Lucanis would ignore that forever if given the chance, but here Illario finally refuses to play along and forces him to feel it.

After a whole story of Lucanis being ruthlessly competent at his job to the point that he turned it into a challenge run for extra style points just because he can (and because it would be quite emotionally convenient for him to die before he has to go back to Caterina and probably be named her heir), we see him try to (avoid having to) have ONE real conversation with someone he loves and he’s so awkward. He’s reduced to pleading for Illario to stop. (There are notably no please and thank yous between Lucanis and Illario — mutually, also notably — but that ‘Illario. Stop’ carries big helpless ‘please don’t’ energy)

I’ve talked before about the way Lucanis speaks of Caterina like she’s a weather system, or an act of God — something that can’t be resisted, only navigated with immense care and a hope for the best fear for the worst attitude. He expects Illario to have reached the same conclusion, raised side by side and in the same household as they are… but he hasn’t. They are different people by nature and the roles within the family have given them different perspectives — on what’s possible, and on what’s sustainable. It’s. hey. It’s a lot.

— God. can you imagine being Illario when Lucanis returns from the grave with some FUCKING RANDO Caterina dragged into the house five minutes ago, and not only is he, surprise surprise, already entrenched as their favourite and they don’t like Illario (they don’t even know all the reasons why they shouldn’t like Illario yet, they just think he has rancid vibes! Which to be sure he does he’s big enough to admit it it can’t be helped the rot will out!! but STILL!!!!!), on a Treviso saved run Lucanis also lets them waltz through all the locked doors in his mind that Illario has been clawing his fingers bloody against for decades while screaming for him within the span of a goddamn afternoon’s work of Fade shenanigans. and through all of it they are *throwing up noises* FLOURISHING together whether as friends or something else in a way that practically shows like a healing glow around him. Rook ‘steal your cousin-brother (you kind of lost the right to stay his favourite when you y’know. Murdered him)’ Dragon Age swooping in to end this poor pathetic little man’s entire career in the last way he hadn’t already managed to ruin it himself. You know what. I kind of get it, Illario, that would send me finally stark raving bonkers insane too. After all that I think I too would have marched over to the ancient elven mean girls like ‘sure I’ll join you in burning down the world if you spare me some gasoline I need to do something hugely self-destructive and unwise and take everything down with me’. Obviously Illario sucks in many many-faceted and inventive ways but holy shit dude. In his shoes could you sit through the café scene without choosing violence.

— Do I have to put in a disclaimer here that even though I have understanding and empathy for just how shitty Illario’s situation is pre-game and am expressing myself with comedic hyperbole about it, what he ends up doing to Lucanis is obviously extremely bad not justified and not okay in any way etc. and I do not endorse cousin murder as a way to solve your interpersonal problems, nevermind entrusting the task to your known mad scientist girlfriend with blood magic benefits if you did mean for it to be a clean quick death. Lucanis did not deserve any of what happened because he’s an imperfect communicator and like any of us has some less than perfect interpersonal patterns, and he’s still an intensely loveable character to me with these flaws. Is that something I have to state for the record after writing 12k+ words about him like this. One would hope not but you know. I’ve been on this site for a long time now and I am carrying around some stress fractures of the psyche about it, at least this way I know I’ve done what little I could to make myself perfectly clear in this our how dare you say we piss on the poor public square lol

— The hilarious/hopeful thing is that I don’t think this relationship is necessarily doomed because of the very specific ways Lucanis is nuts haha, he has not willingly let go of anything he loves one single day in his life and he’s not about to start now — if Illario can bring himself to take that outstretched hand and do his part of the work I feel there could be hope for it. Not for it to ever be what it was before, of course. But to be something, still. Once Lucanis recognizes some of his own shortcomings in the dynamic I think he would try to work on that on the Forgive route at least, Illario matters that much to him.

— rare W moment for Illario towards the end here and we simply must grant him those: Zara clearly meant to merely use him as a means to get to Lucanis, but he did seemingly somehow manage to get her properly wrapped around his little finger for real eventually. Enough for her to be very bitter about it after death, at least. Listen Zara play too close to the fuckboy fire and get burned to a crisp puh-lease this man is a professional. If he’s your amatus why is he obsessed about what his grandma and cousin are going to think of him after this and killing you mid-sentence. Smh

— god I have said so much in this (...obviously. my face is in my hands why am I like this this is my curse), but I’m still not sure I’ve managed to get at what I was actually like. trying to say. Oh well. At least this chunk of thoughts is out of my head now, maybe I’ll get some room in here for something else and maybe even sensible for a while (doubtful but one should live in hope)

*in a 'that's a threat' kind of way. also well done for making it all the way to the end you're a real one

#dragon age #dragon age: the veilguard #tevinter nights #dragon age meta #lucanis dellamorte #illario dellamorte #dragon age: the veilguard spoilers #dragon age spoilers #take this if you want but don't look at the word count. don't look at me. I cannot be perceived right now.#in case it wasn't clear from the *waves at post* all of all of this the reason I know lucanis for a world champion avoider #is that game recognizes game. I'm not entirely sure what I'm working very hard to not think about right now #but I've sure the devil works hard but my brain on 'don't look at that' works harder-ed it the whole way #I love these characters very much tho it isn't the worst thing that could happen to think about them non-stop for a few days

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jungshookz · 13 hours ago

Text

taehyung’s gotten really beefy and y/n feels like a hormonal teenager

➺ pairing; roommate!taehyung x roommate!y/n

➺ genre; roomie!taehyungiverse!! honk honk humour!! a little sprinkle of smut because it would be illegal to write about beefy taehyung and not talk about his bulging biceps WOOF WOOF y/n is a lucky girl i need himbo gymrat taehyung so bad

➺ wordcount; 2.5k

➺ summary; over the last few weeks, taehyung’s noticed that you’ve been particularly jittery and nervous around him and he can’t figure out why… after one of his usual morning workouts, he decides to finally confront you about it and your answer is more than satisfying to him.

➺ what to expect; “wait, so you’re telling me the only reason why you’ve been acting so strange these last few weeks is because you think i’m… sexy?”

➺ currently playing on cee.fm; hey daddy (daddy’s home) — usher

»»————- 🏋🏻‍♂️ ————-««

you’re not sure when taehyung decided to go on a new health journey, but it feels like you’ve blinked and watched your boyfriend go from just some handsome guy that you’re in love with to this muscular, gym-crazy man who loves protein shakes and asking for extra chicken at chipotle (who you’re still very much in love with, let’s be clear that nothing’s changed about that) and suddenly has the ability to do like 100 pull-ups without getting tired

“ugh, fuck-“ taehyung grunts as he does his last push up (this is his fourth set, so technically he just did 300 pushups with no problem), getting up from the ground and twisting his upper body from side to side before putting his phone in between his lips, peeling his damp wife-beater tank off and tossing it on the ground

lately he’s been working out in the morning before starting his day and it’s honestly been such a great change — he feels super pumped for the day ahead and completely reinvigorated

and getting his workout done in the morning means he doesn’t have to worry about it for the rest of the day!

he went for a run around the neighbourhood early this morning, and then came home to finish off with some calisthenics

and now he’s gonna do a little cool-down stretch and hit the shower

he hums to himself as he adjusts his wired earbuds, usher’s hey daddy (daddy’s home) making him bop his head — maybe it’s a little douchey of him to be listening to this song while he’s working out but he can’t help that it’s a good ass song

he slips his phone into the back pocket of his grey sweatpants before reaching for the bottle of water, twisting the cap off and lifting the bottle to chug half of it down

“…good lord.” you mutter to yourself, staring at your boyfriend shamelessly from the kitchen as your jaw goes slack

oh yeah — you’re here, too, by the way

you’ve been here the whole time

you watched him do all 300 pushups and you counted

and now your coffee is cold because you can’t multitask and you couldn’t focus on gawking at your boyfriend and drinking your coffee at the same time

taehyung didn’t notice when you slipped past him earlier to head to the kitchen (and honestly, you didn’t want to bother him mid-workout because you know that you hate it when people interrupt your flow) and you’re pretty sure he still hasn’t noticed you, but you’re fine with that because you’d rather he be unaware of your presence than know that you’ve been creeping on him for the last twenty minutes or so

you don’t mean to stare, you really don’t, but… how can you not stare at him in his shirtless, sweaty glory like that?

your mouth goes dry and you swallow thickly when he turns around, his back muscles flexing slightly

and since when did he have such bulging veins in his biceps?!

your eyes trail down the wide expanse of his glistening back and you immediately get flashbacks from the other night when you had your nails digging into his shoulder blades, your hands sliding down to his lower back as he pushed himself into-

“good morning, sexy-“ you’re snapped out of your thoughts when tae delivers a slap to your bare ass as he passes by and you immediately grip onto your mug harder, letting out a nervous chuckle, “you’re finally up!”

“yeah, i-“ your voice cracks and you clear your throat before shrugging, reaching down to pull your shirt down a little to cover your ass, “it’s whatever, i’m cool.” your brows immediately furrow in confusion at your own words

…what?

what are you even saying?

see, something else you’ve noticed that’s happened since taehyung decided that he wanted to go on a run every morning at 5am and come home completely JACKED is that you’ve started feeling nervous around him and you have no idea why

the both of you have been together for five years (and seven months) and somehow you’ve reverted to some lovestruck teenager who giggles at everything

in fact, you feel like how you felt when you first met taehyung when he came to see you about your open roommate application — very intimidated by how handsome he was and hoping that he thought you were cool enough to hang out with

“did you want some of my smoothie, baby? i can already tell this batch might have a little more than usual…” taehyung hums, his tongue poking out from in between his lips as he measures out his double chocolate protein powder, dumping two full scoops into the blender, “could you get the blueberries from the freezer for me?”

“smoothie?” you clear your throat, nodding and setting your mug down, “uh, yeah! blueberries.” you turn around, pulling the freezer drawer open and pulling out the large ziploc of frozen blueberries before shaking your head to yourself to snap out of your funk

smoothie? uh, yeah, blueberries! you mock yourself internally — you are literally incapable of forming full sentences, it feels like you’ve got a bunch of marbles rolling around in your mouth

and he needs to put a shirt on or something because he’s starting to get those toned v-lines that taper down nicely when he wears his sweatpants low on his hips

you didn’t even know those muscles existed

“so did you want some? it’s okay if you don’t, i guess i could drink it all, the extra protein will be good-“

“uh, yeah! i’ll have some.” you nod, setting your mug down and turning to get a cup for yourself

taehyung turns the blender on and the kitchen is immediately filled with the obnoxious, grating sound of ZZzhzhhZHHZHHHHHhHhZHzh but you’re actually glad the space between you is being filled up with that

otherwise you’d have to make conversation with him

and in your current state, you are completely helpless

you watch as he reaches up to slick his damp hair back, leaning back a little to check and make sure all the ingredients are being blended up nice and smooth

it just feels like he’s moving in slow-motion and you… you…

see you just lost your train of thought

THAT’S how bad it’s been

taehyung glances up at you briefly from where he’s standing at the opposite end of the kitchen island, noticing that you’ve seemed to space out again

he has no idea what your deal has been for the last couple of weeks — he doesn’t think anything is necessarily wrong between the two of you, and if there’s a problem he knows you’re more than capable of bringing it up with him and talking it out

but at the same time, something is wrong because you’ve been unusually quiet and every time he tries to make conversation it feels like you don’t know how to speak like a normal human being

like earlier when he said good morning and that you were finally up and you responded with “it’s whatever, i’m cool”

it’s whatever, i’m cool

what the hell was that?!

or the other night when he asked you if you wanted to join him in the shower and you let out the most nervous, high-pitched laugh before practically sprinting away to the kitchen and saying something about needing to wash the dishes

…is it him? are you not physically attracted to him anymore?

that can’t be it, either… you guys had sex the other night and you were very vocal (you guys actually got a noise complaint from a neighbour but he never told you because he knew you’d be embarrassed and never want to have sex ever again, and to be honest, he’s just planning on putting his hand over your mouth the next time you fuck — easy fix!)

“okay, what’s wrong with you?” taehyung asks as soon as he turns the blender off, and you look up from the counter with wide eyes, “you’ve been so jittery with me for the last few weeks and i cannot figure out why, for the life of me. if you’re up to something shady, you might as well tell me now and-“

“what?” your eyelashes flutter in surprise and you let out a snort, his crazy accusation immediately sobering you up, “i promise you i am not up to anything shady, in fact, i’m kind of offended you even had that thought-“

“oh, thank god. you’re speaking like a normal human being, i finally fixed you-“ taehyung sighs, blowing a puff of air out as he pops the blender lid off, dipping his finger into the smoothie before bringing it up to his lips for a taste

“you have got to be kidding me.” you murmur to yourself, watching as some of the smoothie drips from his finger onto his toned abdomen

he swipes it off before sucking it off his finger with a satisfied hum

“you’re a freak!” you blurt out, “oh my god, you are such a freak and it’s like you do these things that i feel like are on purpose but-“

“what are you talking about??”

“i’m talking about- i just-“ you stumble over your words, letting out a groan when you find yourself being unable to form a sentence again

you pause for a second, shaking your head before composing yourself and painting a nice, pleasant smile on your face, “you… you… are you… are you aware of how ripped you’ve become?”

“what?” taehyung laughs in disbelief, his eyes flickering off to the side, “i mean… i know i’ve definitely bulked up a little, i wouldn’t say i’m ripped-“

“you have no idea how hard it is to not throw myself at you every single second of every single day — i mean, i love you and i’m attracted to you no matter what you look like but there’s just something so satisfying about biting into your firm, firm bicep,” you make your way over to taehyung before jabbing a finger into his arm, “like, are you telling me this is all muscle?!”

“i mean-“ taehyung looks down before flexing his arm, making his bicep pop out, “yeah, i guess so. wait, so you’re telling me the only reason why you’ve been acting so strange these last few weeks is because you think i’m… sexy?”

“you have been walking around all shirtless and sweaty with grey goddamn sweatpants so low on your hips that you’re basically naked, this is not on me!” you gawk, eyes widening when taehyung suddenly rounds the corner to get closer to you, “what are you- what are you doing?”

“nothing! we’re having a conversation, aren’t we?” the corner of his mouth twitches in a smirk as he continues walking you back until you’ve found yourself bumped up against the counter, your hands immediately fumbling to grip onto the edges to keep balanced, “oh, what’s wrong, baby? do i make you nervous?” he coos, using his pointer finger to raise your chin and forcing you to look at him before setting both his hands down on the counter and effectively trapping you in

“you-“ your voice cracks and you feel your face getting hotter (again, not sure why because you’ve been dating this man for five years, but maybe it’s a good sign that after all this time you still get super hot and bothered being around him — the spark is still very much alive!), “you don’t make me nervous, that’s ridiculous.”

“oh, don’t i?” taehyung tilts his head, sliding a finger up the side of your bare thigh and smiling to himself when he feels goosebumps starting to prickle at your skin, “you know, it’s funny that you’re scolding me for walking around shirtless in my own home when you’re the one constantly walking around in skimpy little g-strings. how do you think i feel, having to keep myself from bending you over every single surface in this apartment and just pushing your panties to the side?” he asks, voice light as he uses his pinky to brush a strand of hair away from your eyes

“i imagine you probably feel… not… good…” you murmur, crossing your arms over your chest and keeping your chin raised in an attempt to appear as calm and collected as possible

“you don’t have to be nervous around me, honey,” taehyung leans down, and you’re as still as can be when he brushes his lips over yours before starting to plant light kisses along your jaw, “you know i love you and for the record, i think you’re incredibly sexy all the time…” he takes your hand and places it on his firm abdomen before sliding it down, and your thighs squeeze together upon feeling the ridges of his abs

and maybe now isn’t a good time to be thinking this but you can’t help but feel good about the fact that taehyung still thinks you’re sexy — it’s giving you the little ego boost you’ve been needing and- I NEED TO SUCK HIS DICK

okay JESUS

your eyes shoot open at the sudden uncharacteristically graphic intrusive thought and you immediately push taehyung away from you, keeping him at arm’s length

“wh- what’s wrong?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, “did i say someth-“

“i need to suck your dick.” you interrupt, staring at him with a neutral expression on your face

“what?” he lets out a laugh, “i mean, yes, obviously i want that but-“

“you need to be quiet now.”

taehyung swallows thickly when he watches you drop to the ground in front of him, staring at him in a way he’s never seen before

oh, jesus.

»»————- 🏋🏻‍♂️ ————-««

“tae-“ you whimper, dropping your forehead on his shoulder as he presses himself into you, a shaky breath slipping past his lips when he feels you clench up around him, “a-agh…”

“jesus, your pussy always feels so good…” he mutters under his breath, looking down to watch himself pull out slightly before pushing back in all the way, smiling to himself when you whimper and ask him to please, please fuck me-

(needless to say, you guys ended up with another noise complaint. whoops.)

🎙️ ask taehyung for the recipe to his 70g protein smoothie (talk to my characters!)

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (go say hi to yoongi and y/n in la vie en bonsai!)

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series like this!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!)

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coquitokisses · 21 hours ago

Text

Oh, baby! | Dean Winchester

Pairings: Dean Winchester x female!reader

Summary: reader had a one night stand with Dean and they find out she’s pregnant

Word count: 1.4k

A/n: I gotta be honest, this is from a fanfic lmao, which is supposed to be a crossover of Teen Wolf and Supernatural, but I haven’t published it yet and I’ve been wanting to write something about Dean for a whileee so I decided to just edit this lil thing I had and post it here cuz why not?

“Hey, Cas, you’re back.” You smile sweetly at him once you saw him as you made your way to the library to help Sam with research

“Hi, y/n.” He replied with a small smile that soon turned into a confused frown

You noticed. “Everything okay?”

“How do you feel?” He asks

“I’m fine.” You replied, not understanding his sudden worry

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Cas, why? What’s wrong?” You questioned feeling a little alarmed by the way he was asking

“It’s just that I feel another presence.” He said

“Another presence?” Sam took his eyes off the laptop to look at Castiel

“What do you mean another presence?” Dean’s voice was soon heard throughout the library

“Is it bad?” You ask

“No,” Castiel shook his head. “It’s inside you.”

“Inside me?!” You were so confused right now “But what is it? Is it bad?”

“Is she okay?” Sam asked somewhat worried after hearing Castiel’s words

“She’s fine,” he replied and then looked at you “Can I?” he raised his hand

You nodded giving him permission to do whatever he had to do. Castiel put a hand on your forehead and then began to lower it down your body, but without actually touching it, until it reached your belly.

“Can I?” he looked at you, you just nodded

He placed his hand on your belly and that’s when he realized what was the presence he was feeling.

“It’s a baby,” he said, removing his hand

You almost choked. “I’m sorry, WHAT?!”

“A.. baby?” Sam was dumbfounded

“Wait, wait, are you sure?” Dean looked at Castiel

“Very sure,” the angel nodded

“It can’t be...” you put one of you hands on you chest. “Oh my God..”

“Are you really sure?” Dean asked again

“Yes, Dean, I am one hundred percent sure that I feel a baby’s presence.” Castiel snapped back

“This isn’t happening.” Dean ran his hands over his face “This is.. this is simply not happening.”

“Please don’t tell me you guys…” Sam looked at you both

“Sam, just shut up for a minute, okay?” Dean replied

“I- I need to get some air.” You muttered as you walked backwards like three steps and then turned around heading to the stairs

“Y/n wait!” Sam called out but you ignored him

You got out of the bunker and you took a deep breath trying to calm yourself down and not have a panic attack.

“This can’t be real..” you murmured to yourself

You raised your hands to your belly and you’re just standing there in shock.

Of course you wanted a family, but you knew that it was probably not going to happen due to the fact that you’re a hunter and you’ve been hunting basically your whole life. You knew how your life was gonna end. And you made your peace with that. Kinda.

Worst thing about all of this is the fact that Dean is the one who got you pregnant. You two used to hate each other, but throughout the years, you’ve learned to tolerate each other and well, you’ve basically been working with them since they had to deal with the angels pretty much.

He’s always had a crush on you and you knew it, but it wasn’t really that serious. He usually just flirted with you and most of the time you just ignored him.

Until a few weeks ago, while you guys were finishing up a case that Sam decided to let you two handle so you could work on your communication and your anger issues, because the week before that, you have to admit that you were both butting heads every five minutes, and it was driving Sam insane. So he sent you both to deal with a shapeshifter case in Wyoming and with a little assignment to work on your issues and stop behaving like kids. His words.

And you did worked your issues out. You just didn’t think it was gonna be by having sex, but hey, you weren’t complaining at all. He was perfect. And it was the best night you’ve ever had in a while.

And here are the results of that hook up.

It’s clear to say that neither of you are prepared, mentally nor physically prepared to have a kid.

And besides, how were you gonna raise a kid together if you can’t even get along for more than two days?

You got on your car and decided to go for a ride, just to clear your head. And while you were at it, you bought like two boxes of pregnancy tests just to be one thousand percent sure and because you would believe it more once you see it yourself.

You got something to eat after that and decided to use the bathroom at a gas station so you could take the pregnancy tests.

While you waited on the results, you were walking around in the small bathroom, thinking what the hell you were gonna do.

After a few minutes of talking to yourself internally, you decided to take a look at the four pregnancy tests.

“Oh god..” you muttered under your breath seeing the plus sign on the tests

(…)

After a while of just driving around, you finally decided to get back to the bunker. Once you open the door, Dean’s head turned to look at you immediately.

“Where were you?” He asked, leaving the book he was reading on the table

“I was getting rid of the little creature,” you replied

“Y/n.” Dean gave your a stern look

“I’m kidding.” You rolled your eyes. “I went for a ride and to get something to eat, anything else you want to know?”

You walked to where he was and put your hand inside the pocket of your jacket.

“In case you thought Castiel was lying...” you took the pregnancy tests out of your jacket pocket and placed them on the table. “It’s quite real.”

Dean looked at the tests in front of him realizing that this was really happening. He did believe Cas, but seeing the positive pregnancy tests, definitely made his mind finally fall into the acceptance that this was real. Very real.

Dean sighed. “Look, I know you’re not completely happy with this situation, believe me, I’m not either, but..-

“But we already did it and now we have to take responsibility, I know,” you said taking off your jacket “What I’m still trying to figure out is how you and I are going to raise a baby”

“I don’t know either.” He sighed

“This wasn’t supposed to happen” you pulled out a chair so you could sit and then you brought your hands to you face

“I know...” Dean said in a soft voice and leaned a little so he could look at you. “Hey,” he gently took you by the wrists, removing your hands from your face. “You’re not going to be alone, I’m not going for a pack of cigarettes and never come back.”

That made you laugh a little. “I know you won’t.”

“I’m just.. scared.” He admitted “Scared to raise a kid, scared that I might turn out like my dad and I don’t want that..”

“You’re not going to be like your father, Dean.” You said softly “And I’m scared too, like, I’m gonna be carrying a baby inside of me for the next nine months, I’m terrified that I won’t be a good mom.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re going to be an amazing mom.”

You smiled a little. “That’s kinda comforting.”

“I think we can make it work if we make the effort.”

“We hate each other.” You roll your eyes

He scoffs. “Speak for yourself, I don’t hate you, sweetheart, like, at all.”

You chuckle. “Don’t lie to yourself, you only wanted to get in my pants.” You joked

“Well yeah, but I don’t hate you.” He shrugged

“I don’t hate you either, you’re just.. very annoying.” You said

“You are too.”

You roll your eyes. “Right.”

“In all seriousness,” he started saying “I think we should give it a try.” He looked into your eyes “And you know, we would also be getting out of this life and finally getting a normal one.”

“That does sound nice.” You nodded

“It’s up to you, babe.” He said

You could see in his eyes that he was dead serious about this. He wanted this. He wanted to give it a try with you.

And after a few seconds of thinking, you finally responded.

“Let’s do it then.” You said and he smiled “But we’re not getting married.”

“I’m fine with that.” He said with a shrug which made you smile

main masterlist

A/n: I think I can make this into a small series, should I? 👀

Likes, comments and reblogs will be appreciated! <3

divider creds @hyuneskkami

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fic #supernatural #supernatural fic #jensen ackles #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #fluff #sam winchester #castiel

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writhyv · 2 days ago

Text

⋆｡°✩ [jay, jake, ni-ki, sunghoon] your bf comforts you from 'haters'

unsorted | park jongseong x male!reader + sim jaeyun x male!reader + nishimura riki x male!reader + park sunghoon x male!reader

pairing: jay x male reader + jake x male reader + niki x male reader + sunghoon x male reader genre: sad angst vibes at the start but def fluff or comfort fgjkasjf notes: there's always going to be people who will hate you and your relationship. and yes, it's normal to be affected. however, it's also normal to accept some comfort by your side. everything's just better with someone you can rely on :)

Of course, you weren’t Korean. Of course, you weren’t used to their culture. But… did they really have to throw that in your face? Did they have to make you feel left out? Or was it just a game to them?

Jay could only look at your face, which seemed so troubled and gloomy. You were going through a lot of emotions right now, and he hated seeing you like this.

He held your hand tightly, warming it with his grip before speaking softly, like a gentle thread of silk. “I’ll talk to them.”

You held onto his hand, never wanting to let go. Jay wasn’t surprised, waiting patiently for you to unclasp his arm.

“Jagi…”

He knew he shouldn’t do that. It felt embarrassing. It felt stupid. It was—

“I won’t make a scene,” Jay reassured you, placing his hand on your shoulders.

You continued to grip his hand firmly. Jay sighed and lifted your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles as you turned to face him.

“I’m just going to tell them how hardworking you’ve been.” He flashed his signature smirk, managing to relax your nerves for just a moment.

“And how grateful I am to see you every single day.”

You both exchanged thoughtful looks, gazing into each other’s eyes. In that moment, you felt your eyes begin to dampen. He wiped away the tears slowly falling from your cheeks. “And how I’m so in love with you that no one could possibly understand.”

Jay looked at you with such a loving gaze that you couldn’t help but wonder—what kind of life had you led before to deserve this kind of blessing?

“But Jay…”

“No buts.” Jay placed his hand gently over your glossy lips, his finger softly trailing down your bottom lip. “Just let me handle it.”

You tightened your grip on his hand one last time. You didn’t want him to get involved in something that seemed so silly, yet somehow, you felt relieved.

Relieved that someone cares for you. Someone who looks out for you.

Someone who sees your worth and values you.

Jay understood the silence that filled your head. So what’s the best thing he could do right now? A kiss. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, a soft sway in the wind as he landed his lips on the top of your head.

“I’ll be right back,” Jay said with a warm smile.

You let his hands go, knowing Jay’s intentions were pure and nothing more. You smiled back, trusting your lover to defend you.

It was comforting—to be defended and cared for, just as you would do for him.

“Babe?” Jake knocks on the door, clearly waiting for you on the other side.

“This is nothing, I swear!” you call out, sniffing as you huddle in the corner of the restroom.

Yes, the place is damp, messy, and definitely not nice… but nothing could be worse than the hurtful things you’ve heard from other people.

And Jake can’t bear not knowing what happened.

“I... I’m sorry,” Jake whispers, his sadness evident in his voice. Even the tone reveals his regret.

You turn your gaze toward him. “Oh, don’t be!” you say, trying to wipe your face and smile as if everything is fine. “C’mon now.”

“But they said bad things, right?” Jake asks, trying to express his feelings. He cares deeply about what he missed. He swears that if he hadn’t taken his time at the counter, he wouldn’t have hesitated to teach those mean people a lesson.

Yet he needs to know how you feel first. When he saw you run to the restroom, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. He was scared, worried, and he wasn’t going to let this slide.

He was determined to be your protector.

“It’s not that bad…” you try to defend yourself, almost reflexively.

Were they really NOT that bad? Is that how you would describe being labeled as someone your boyfriend doesn’t deserve? Not bad?

Words sting. Words hurt. Is it really not bad if they call you an opportunist just because you love your boyfriend?

“I don’t think you’d lock yourself in a public restroom if it wasn’t, babe,” Jake sighs, hoping you’ll open the door quickly.

“They…” you suddenly burst into tears, remembering every single hurtful word you’ve heard.

Why must it be you who feels this way? Why must it be you experiencing something that shouldn’t happen to anyone?

“I’m gonna bust the door open—”

“Wha—”

“HAH!!!” He successfully breaks through the distance between you and him. With a bright smile, he wants to comfort you right then and there.

“Ow…”

Wherever ‘there’ is…

“B-baby!” Jake jumps in surprise, his heart racing as he sees you on the floor, all tumbled up.

“It’s fine…” you say in a gasping tone. You don’t mind it at all, though Jake’s strength is definitely nothing to be messed with.

“Sorry! I thought you were in one of those!” Jake points at the two restroom divisions, thinking you were hiding somewhere.

“So cute…” you coo, making Jake blush a little. “You’re trying to save me like a hero?”

Jake rushes to your side and helps you get up. “Ugh, look at your clothes! It’s your favorite, right?”

“Pssh. Like it matters.” You deny it, clearly relying on this mechanism to cope.

Jake looks at you with serious eyes. “C’mon. Don’t do that now.”

“Huh?”

“You were hurt. Two times.” Jake raises his fingers. “In one day. It HAS to hurt.”

You look at him, realizing how much you’ve been denying your own feelings. Of course, you hate it. You hate feeling what you’ve felt today. Although Jake’s little push wasn’t much, that earlier situation scraped at your heart.

Just then, you notice your eyes are wet. They aren’t just damp; they’re soaking. You can only cry right then and there.

Jake sees your tears fall and lets you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Shh…” he says softly, trying to comfort you, patting your back as you sob against him. “I’m here.”

You continue to cry, letting it all out. Maybe on this day, or in this life, you feel like you don’t matter to anyone. You’re willing to accept that.

But you matter to Jake. Just as he matters to you.

Maybe that’s all you really need.

“Something wrong?” Ni-ki asks, his voice low and filled with concern as he leans closer to you, sensing the tension rising in your body before you even fully process the words.

His gaze, sharp and hyper-observant from years of reading rooms as a performer, flickers to the source of the whispers around you and then back to your face.

At first, he thinks you’re just your usual unfazed self, but as he studies your expression, he realizes the truth—you are affected.

This awareness shifts something in him, prompting him to step closer. His shoulder brushes against yours casually, yet it feels fiercely deliberate—a shield disguised as coincidence.

“Hey,” he murmurs again, tilting his head down so only you can hear. His hand finds yours, warm and grounding, guiding you toward a quieter corner away from prying eyes and judgmental voices.

Ni-ki isn’t one for dramatic confrontations; he prioritizes your peace over their noise, ready to remove you from the chaos that surrounds you.

Once you find a moment alone, he faces you fully. His usual playful smirk is replaced by a quiet seriousness that catches you off guard.

“You know they’re wrong,” he states simply, his tone leaving no room for debate.

You recognize this side of him—the one that surfaces during tough rehearsals, when he’s pushing himself to perfect a move. He is stubborn in his convictions.

“I... I know. It’s just—” you begin, but the words catch in your throat.

“It’s nothing but smack.” Ni-ki tries to push away that trembling fear of yours, the snake that keeps crawling up your leg, the creeping anxiety that always seems to burn you down whenever something like this happens. He weighs his words carefully, wanting to make you feel better, or at least let you know you’re not alone in times like these.

“You’re... stronger than they think. And I know what’s real.” His thumb grazes your wrist, a fleeting touch that carries the weight of his loyalty, reminding you that you’re not alone. "I just-" A sudden kiss then touches your lips, warmth bathing your own. "Wah-" Another kiss graces you again. Ni-ki smirked as he prompted to wait another moment for you to speak. "He-" One last kiss to shut you up. That will do it, Ni-ki thought.

“Hehe.” You felt suddenly lighter than before. Maybe three kisses worked their magic already. As for Ni-ki? He looked proud as one definitely would, like winning a raffle prize. Bumping his head close to yours, he lightens the air with a half-smirk.

“Next time, I’ll ‘accidentally’ spill my drink on them. My clumsy era.”

“What the..." You looked at him, a familiar glance he knew well you'd do when he teased you.

"Riki.”

“What?” Ni-ki smiles, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “Is that a game plan or what?”

You giggle, knowing how he always tries to cheer you up has been a success in the past. Even amidst the buzz of the world, just having Ni-ki right with you feels like enough. With him, you feel stronger and much better.

And Ni-ki? He loves you even more. Nothing compares to that.

The next day, he shows up at work wearing the hoodie you once teased him for borrowing, unbothered by the stares of others around you. Yes, it was pink. Yes, it was a Donald Duck comic panel hoodie and yes, it wasn't his taste at all. But with all of this, his presence is a silent rebellion against any negativity. For Ni-ki, comfort isn’t found in grand speeches; it’s in staying.

He proves, through every small choice he makes, that he will walk beside you—loudly, unapologetically—no matter who’s watching. In this moment, you feel a sense of reassurance, knowing that with Ni-ki by your side, you can face anything that comes your way.

“You good?” Sunghoon asks, noticing the bad vibe in the air before you even do. His polite smile, which he uses in public, freezes just a little as his instincts kick in to hide his irritation.

But his eyes, usually calm and peaceful, darken with a hint of protectiveness, a fierce guardian ready to shield you from the negativity surrounding you.

“Mhm.” You nod, trying to show him that it’s not a big deal, even though you know it is. You want to be strong for him, to not add to his burdens.

Without breaking his cool demeanor, he steps subtly between you and the voices, standing tall like a strong tree, unyielding against the gusts of harsh words.

“Let’s get some air,” he says lightly, as if he’s just suggesting a casual walk, but you can sense the underlying urgency in his tone.

“O-okay.” His hand gently presses against your back—a silent command to follow, not argue. You feel the warmth of his touch seep through the layers of your emotional turmoil, grounding you.

Once you both find a quiet spot, nestled away from prying eyes and judgmental whispers, he turns to you, and his icy facade melts into something softer.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice low but steady. Sunghoon isn’t one for long speeches, but his gaze locks onto yours, intense and unwavering, making you feel truly seen.

“W-What are you talking about?” You smile, doing your best to deny what you’re feeling and hide it from him. You don’t want him to worry; he has enough on his plate.

As you try to shrug it off, he raises an eyebrow—that look he gives when he knows you’re lying. It’s a look that makes your heart flutter, even in such a heavy moment.

“Hoonie—”

“They’re idiots,” he says plainly, crossing his arms. “The kind who’d fall flat on their face trying a single axel jump.”

The reference catches you off guard and makes you giggle a little. “A-axel jump? That’s a throwback.”

Sunghoon takes a good look at you as you settle, fixing the hair strands that almost cover your face. He can tell you’re trying to keep it together, but he’s seen you crumble before, and it breaks his heart to witness it again.

“It still hurts, doesn’t it?” He hesitates for a moment, showing a rare side of himself, before saying, “It hurts me too. Seeing you like this.”

You understand what Sunghoon is trying to say. People aren’t always kind about idols dating, especially when they’re the same sex. You’ve faced your share of hate and gossip, but it’s not something serious enough to ruin his reputation. It’s something very personal for him when he knows you’re being targeted.

But to him, none of that matters. As long as he can show his love for you while doing what he loves, he feels content.

“They want a reaction. Don’t give them one,” he says, firm but not cold. “We’ll show them this instead.” He flashes his bright, dimpled smile, warm and calculated, before linking his arm through yours and leading you back into the room.

You laugh again, seeing how cute your partner is. He’s trying his own way of showing how much he cares for you, and nothing can compare to his efforts.

You lean against his shoulder and tighten your grip on his strong arm, silently thanking him for everything he does.

Of course, Sunghoon smiles. Deep down, it’s all that matters to him.

That you feel happy, comfortable, and loved. With him.

“You’re better than every single one of them.” His breath feels warm as he kisses your forehead.

“And I’m never wrong about people.”

wishing you comfort in these small drabbles. from me and enha <3

hope you guys enjoyed it! please like, comment, or reblog~

my masterlist!

made by writhyv 💘

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chogiwow · 3 days ago

Text

royally fucked! | park sunghoon.

pairing: prince!sunghoon x gn!reader ft. jayyyyy

genre: crack, fluff; headcanons!

wc: 3.3k

warnings: sunghoon being dumb dumb, he messed up pretty bad, yn is ruthless (we love), sorta shitty (abrupt) ending :’D

a/n: saw this prompt and i knew i had to go crazyyyy. so anyway, here’s sunghoon’s downfall, suffering, and eventual redemption—courtesy of you dragging him through hell first. and jay having fun cuz he’s a just chill guy

aight, you and sunghoon have been tight for so long, that small little arguments don’t really matter

but when it’s your feelings that come into play,, you can’t help but be a little hurt sometimes

and sunghoon is well,, he’s not entirely emotionally constipated but he’s also not the best ! at putting things out !

but ya’ll have had your fair share of arguments and have always bounced back so it’s no biggie tbh

except …….

this time.

sunghoon doesn’t realize he’s about to lose you until it’s too late.

one second, ya’ll are arguing—passion, heat, frustration. the next? silence.

you just… look at him. eyes burning, but it’s not just anger anymore. it’s disappointment oof

sunghoon is waiting for you to yell at him, to tell him to fix it, to fight—but you don’t

instead, you just step back. and in that tiny shift, he feels his world tilt

tbh he brought this upon himself, man can be so oblivious to your feelings sometimes it’s insane he’s survived so long without you suffocating him to death :’d

but the moment you turn and walk away, sunghoon realizes he just made the biggest mistake of his life

guess you could say,, he messed up royally :<

but ykw? he’s confident that things are gonna be fine

like c’mon, it’s you and him !! you always end up together again, no matter how much sunghoon messes up

so he’s just chilling, sippin’ his tea and admiring the view, doing his princely duties yada yada

but then

it happens – the first time you call him prince sunghoon again, it happens in front of the entire court lmfaooo

thing is,, no matter how upset you’ve been at him in the past, he’s always been hoon to you. or hoonie, or sung, or sungie, or love, or darling, or honeyyyy

prince sunghoon?????

oh hell nawwww

the words come smoothly, coolly, without hesitation—just a simple, respectful acknowledgment before you turn and leave

sunghoon, however, stands frozen in place, every muscle in his body going rigid like he's just been run through with a sword

prince.

not the nicknames you used to say with a fond lilt, half-laughing when he grumbled about his duties, half-breathless when you whispered it against his skin in the dim glow of candlelight

no. now, it's just "prince sunghoon," delivered with all the warmth of a polished silver dagger

his advisor clears his throat beside him. sunghoon realizes he's been staring at your retreating back for far too long

people are watching. he forces himself to move, to blink, to pretend that his heart hasn’t just been drop-kicked into the royal gardens

but later, when he storms into his chambers, he flings his cloak across the room so aggressively that it knocks over a vase

"did you hear that?!" he demands of his most unfortunate knight, who happens to be standing nearby. "prince sunghoon. prince sunghoon. i—i was sunghoon to them for years, and now i’m just—just some formality—”

the knight coughs. "well, your highness, you are a prince—"

sunghoon glares so hard that the knight immediately bows and exits before he can be roped into this any further.

the next time you cross paths, sunghoon casually (read: not casually at all) corners you in the royal gardens

he leans against a marble pillar, arms crossed, trying to look composed when he's actually vibrating with desperation

"you know," he starts, voice low, "you didn’t used to call me that."

you barely spare him a glance. "times change, your highness."

sunghoon flinches. "don’t do that."

"do what?"

"that," he gestures vaguely. "that. the title thing."

you merely tilt their head, feigning innocence. "it is your proper title, is it not? what would you prefer i call you?*"

sunghoon opens his mouth. closes it. he knows exactly what he wants you to call him, but he also knows you won’t say it. not now.

"...forget it," he mutters

but he absolutely does not forget it

after weeks of being ignored, sunghoon starts spiraling.

"i think i'm dying," he groans, sprawled dramatically across a couch in his private chambers.

his best friend, jay, doesn't even look up from the documents he's reading. "you're not dying."

"i'm wilting," sunghoon insists, flopping onto his side. "i'm withering away. my heart—it's broken. i can feel it cracking inside my chest."

"you saw yn this morning."

"yes," sunghoon huffs, "and they called me prince sunghoon again, jay. prince sunghoon. do you know how insulting that is? it's like being demoted in their heart."

jay flips a page. "maybe you shouldn’t have messed up in the first place."

sunghoon scowls. "thanks for the support."

but hey, give yourself some credit

you gotta teach your man a lesson, and if it means you must resort to a cold exterior–then so be it !

fortunately for you, it seems to be working wonders

and you seem to be secretly enjoying it too sdjsdks

but sunghoon’s patience snaps at the worst possible moment—during another royal gathering.

it’s been months of cold formality, and he’s sick of it

so, when you gracefully declined his offer to dance (with a practiced, impersonal, "i appreciate the offer, your highness, but i must decline"), he does something reckless

"forgive me," he says loudly, stepping forward, eyes burning into yours, "have i wronged you, your grace?"

the entire ballroom goes silent

jay, from the corner, facepalms so hard it echoes

you just raise an eyebrow, utterly unimpressed. "i’m sure your highness knows the answer to that.”

sunghoon clenches his jaw. "if i did, i wouldn’t be asking."

"then perhaps," you say, still perfectly calm, "your highness should reflect a little harder."

sunghoon watches you walk away again, fists clenched at his sides

later, when he overhears someone whispering, wasn’t the prince a little too eager?, he nearly flips a table

oh but sunghoon is down bad, miserable, and ridiculous about it which is a great combination ,, i suppose :’D

"yn used to like sweets," sunghoon says mournfully, staring at the untouched dessert platter before him

his knights exchange looks

jay, exhausted: "so?"

sunghoon: "so, what if i bake them something?"

jay, even more exhausted: "you can’t cook."

sunghoon: "how hard can it be?"

four hours later, the palace kitchen looks like a war zone. there’s flour on his royal attire. batter in his hair. a pan is on fire

jay sighs as he drags him out before the head chef can actually murder him

since his questionable baking skills are of no help,, sunghoon resorts to something even worse: acts of service

acts of service itself isn’t so bad, except, sunghoon is a prince,,,, and very rich at that,,,

he may tend to go overboard with a few things … :’D

he starts small—sending you favorite desserts, commissioning imported fabrics in their favorite colors, pulling strings to get your favorite musician to play at court

you ignore everything lmfaooo

(yess yn stay Strong !!)

But then he gets desperateeee

one morning, you wake up to find a literal palace of flowers outside your chamber doors

you stare at it. look at the servants, who are struggling to step over the sea of petals just to enter the room

"...is he serious?"

jay appears, sipping tea. "he was up all night arranging it himself."

you glare. "did you stop him?"

jay shrugs. "why would i? this is hilarious."

later, when sunghoon asks if you liked it, you simply say, "i’m allergic to roses."

sunghoon looks like he might throw himself into the nearest river :'D

at this point, sunghoon is feral with longing, so he does something truly, utterly pathetic

he sneaks into the kitchens at 2 am to personally make you breakfast

(yes, the last time he tried to cook, he almost burned down the palace. no, that does not stop him)

safe to say – it’s a disaster :)

the head chef catches him sneaking around like a thief and promptly kicks him out.

"just let me—ow, stop pushing—"

"i’ll have you executed!" the chef screams

"you can’t execute the crown prince!" sunghoon yells back

jay, who has also snuck in for a midnight snack, watches from the shadows, wheezing

sunghoon is dragged out of the kitchen, looking like a kicked puppy

the next morning, you receive a sad little plate of burnt toast and overcooked eggs, delivered by a very reluctant servant

you stare at it for a long time. then you laugh.

(it’s the first time you’ve laughed because of him in months.)

but ykw? you’re not backing down this easily

i mean,, if all it took was a plate of burnt food to melt you, wHERE’S YOUR SPINE?!!

it’s the thought that counts but still,,,, you gotta make the man Suffer !!

so sunghoon gets the silent treatment (and it destroys him)

(good for you yn you goooo !!)

sunghoon is used to your anger

he can handle your yelling, your insults, even your glares

what he can’t handle is the silence

and you KNOW this

so, one day, you just... stop responding

he says "good morning," and you walk away

he asks for your opinion, and you turn to someone else instead

he accidentally brushes your hand, and you don’t even react

it gets to the point where he starts talking to himself :D

sunghoon, trailing after you: "i know you can hear me."

you: silence

sunghoon: "come on, just—just yell at me, insult me, anything!"

you: sips tea in peace

sunghoon, on the verge of tears: "this is cruel and unusual punishment!"

meanwhile, jay, watching from afar, takes a bite of his snack and mutters, "damn. rest in peace, bro”

to make things worse !!

you accept someone else’s proposal (just to mess with him) hAHAHA

sunghoon hears it from a servant, which makes it so much worse

"they’ve accepted a marriage proposal?" his voice comes out strangled

the poor servant flinches. "u-uh, yes, your highness. from the duke of—"

sunghoon doesn’t even wait to hear the name before he’s storming out, fully ready to commit treason

he finds you in the royal library, flipping through a book as if you haven’t just ruined his life

"you’re getting married?" he demands

you glance up, bored. "what of it?"

sunghoon stares, mouth opening and closing like a fish. "what of it—yn, you can't be serious!"

"i can," you say smoothly. "the duke is a wonderful man. courteous, dependable—"

"boring," sunghoon interrupts, voice rising. "he’s boring, and he—he won’t make you happy!"

"and you would?" you raise an eyebrow

LMAFOOOOO

sunghoon sucks in a sharp breath

you wait, but he doesn’t answer. because he doesn’t know how

after a moment, you smirk and go back to your book. "that’s what i thought."

sunghoon storms out, punching a very expensive vase on his way

(the marriage proposal was never real. jay finds out later and wheezes when you admit it was all a ploy to make sunghoon lose his mind)

what bothers him THE most???

he has a near-death experience, and you’re totally unbothered

he falls off his horse

(not on purpose. he’s not that desperate for attention)

it’s a bad fall. he hits the ground hard, groaning, vision spinning. servants rush to help him

"fetch a healer!" someone shouts

and then he hears your voice

"...oh."

that’s it. oh.

like he’s just a mild inconvenience

sunghoon groans louder, reaching a shaky hand toward them. "yn... i think i’m dying."

you tilt your head. "you’re fine."

tough love buddy ……

sunghoon gasps, betrayed. "you don’t know that!"

"i do. if you were actually dying, you wouldn’t be this dramatic."

jay, appearing out of nowhere: "can confirm. if he was dying, he wouldn’t have the energy to act like a theatre kid."

sunghoon wants to scream

but then jay gets hurt….

he stubs his toe

"oh my god, jay, are you okay?!" you rush over, full of actual concern. "do you need to sit down? should i get you something?"

jay, milking it for all it’s worth: "it’s bad, yn. i think i might die."

you: "tell me what you need."

sunghoon, watching in outrage: "he stubbed his toe! i almost bled out!"

jay, smirking: "guess you should’ve treated yn better, huh?"

sunghoon: "I AM GOING TO LOSE MY MIND”

sunghoon officially loses it lol

for weeks, he’s done everything. apologized, groveled, suffered

but you are still holding out on him

so one day, in a fit of sheer desperation, he does something reckless

he stands on the palace balcony, looking down at the courtyard, where you and jay are talking

then he shouts

"YN, WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO TO MAKE YOU LOVE ME AGAIN?!"

silence. absolute silence.

people stop. servants stare.

jay, who was mid-sip of his drink, nearly chokes

you, face blank, calmly reply:

"jump."

sunghoon freezes

jay bursts out laughing. "oh my god, you did not just say that—"

sunghoon groans and covers his face. "this is my villain origin story"

fear not though, you’re here to really make suffer though, you’re gonna milk it for ALL it’s worth lmfaooo

so you start flirting... with other people :D

it starts small. a few extra smiles. a touch of the arm. a slightly too-friendly laugh

sunghoon notices immediately

and it destroys him – mission: accomplished lol

at first, he tries to ignore it. he tells himself he has no right to be jealous

then one day, he catches you talking to some random courtier, leaning in just a little too close

sunghoon sees red

he storms over, stepping between you. "can i help you?"

the courtier blinks. "your highness?"

sunghoon ignores him. "yn. a word. now."

you, completely unbothered, raising a brow. "oh? and what could be so urgent?"

"you know exactly what," he grits out

jay, watching from the sidelines, whispers to a servant: "sunghoon’s about five seconds away from a public breakdown"

safe to say, you’re not giving up THAT easily

granted, the whole ‘your highness’ thing had been a petty gesture on your part, you never meant to continue on so long for it

but now …. you were just having some fun :> nothing wrong with that

also seeing sunghoon beg for you desperately felt good

you would never hurt him of course, your heart belonged to him solely, but you just wanted him to work for it ,,, nothing wrong with that lads

one night, after an exhausting day of chasing you around like a lovesick fool, sunghoon finally corners you

he’s had enough.

"please. i don’t care if you hate me. i don’t care if you never love me again. just—just stop pretending like we were nothing”

you finally look at him and sigh. "i wasn’t pretending."

sunghoon’s breath catches. "what?"

"i wasn’t pretending," you repeat. "i just had to move on to survive."

sunghoon feels something in his chest ache

"but i—" his voice falters. "i still love you."

for a moment, you just study him

you ALMOST cave in to his sad eyes imploring you silently

then, softly, "i know."

sunghoon’s throat tightens. "then what do i do?"

you finally smile. "figure it out, your highness."

and you walk away—leaving sunghoon with nothing but his own feelings and the weight of everything he’s done

jay, whispering from the shadows: "damn. you just got hit with a main character moment."

sunghoon: "jay, i swear to god—"

when sunghoon breaks down, it happens unexpectedly

he is alone, sitting at the edge of the palace gardens, staring at the moon

and then—

it hits him

the weight of everything. how much he ruined. how much he misses you

his breath shudders. his hands shake.

and then, for the first time in his life, prince sunghoon weeps

jay, appearing out of nowhere: "are you crying?"

sunghoon: "go away."

jay: "damn, bro. didn’t think you’d actually break like this."

sunghoon sniffles. "please."

at this point, sunghoon is completely broken

no fight left. no ego. just pain.

sunghoon is a shell of a man.

he used to be proud. arrogant. handsome. a prince

now? he’s just pathetic

and that’s when you finally decide to talk to him

"so," you say, standing before him. "are you done?"

sunghoon looks up. he’s exhausted. hollow. "done with what?"

"ruining yourself over me."

sunghoon swallows. "i don’t know how to stop."

you study him for a long, long time

and then, finally—

"idiot."

sunghoon blinks.

and then—

a single, tiny smile.

sunghoon almost dies on the spot.

jay, from the background: "ohhh. oh it’s happening—"

sunghoon: "jay, leave."

jay: "let me witness this! i earned this!"

sunghoon, with actual tears in his eyes: "go away."

jay, fake-sniffing: "fine. but i better be the best man at your wedding."

sunghoon: "GET OUT"

in all honesty, you could keep up your facade for longer, you’re stronger than this

but you’ve seen sunghoon lose his shit over the past few months

you think it’s time to let him rest a little bit

but not before addressing ALL your concerns too :<

"sunghoon, i’m exhausted"

sunghoon stiffens. his throat closes up

"i—" he swallows hard. "i can fix that—"

"that’s the thing, hoon. you can’t always fix things"

silence.

then—

"i don’t need you to fix me. i need you to stay."

and sunghoon breaks

because that’s it, isn’t it?

he always thought he could fix things. that he could come back, apologize, smooth things over

but you just needed him to choose you in the first place. consider your feelings for once !

sunghoon, shaking: "i—i know. i’m so sorry."

"so prove it."

sunghoon: "…huh?"

"you want me back? show me i can trust you again."

sunghoon, immediately nodding: "i’ll do anything."

"good. start by making it up to me. one date per week. my terms."

sunghoon, eagerly: "done. so… is this progress?"

you’re smirking when you tell him, "it’s a start.”

sunghoon, voice cracking: "so… does this mean i can kiss you now?"

you, pretending to think about it: "hmm…"

sunghoon, ready to combust:

jay, in the background: "bro, if they make you suffer any longer, i’m gonna start feeling bad for you—"

sunghoon, whispering: "shut up, jay."

you, smirking: "guess you’ll have to find out."

sunghoon:

jay: "oh, that’s cold."

sunghoon: "i hate you."

post-reconciliation: sunghoon is a changed man aka YOU have the upper hand FOREVER now muhahahaha

sunghoon is now completely, utterly WHIPPED UGHHH

you mention being hungry? he’s already booking a reservation in the finest diner in the land

you tease him constantly about how down bad he is

"you used to be so smug, what happened?"

"you destroyed me. congratulations."

sunghoon is now clingy as hell. he was grumpy before? now he’s just your personal lapdog

sunghoon: "i just think it’s so funny how you used to annoy me so much, and now—"

yn: "now?"

sunghoon: "…now i feel physically ill when you’re not near me."*

yn: "that’s tragic. anyway, i need to go—"

sunghoon: "NO"

every time you threaten to leave him for fun, he immediately panics LOL

"you wouldn’t"

"wouldn’t i?"

"YN, DON’T PLAY WITH ME LIKE THIS"

jay is having the time of his life watching this

"wow, the mighty sunghoon. reduced to a simp."

"SHUT UP, JAY."

also,, according to jay, sunghoon’s reputation? RUINED

jay has seen things. sunghoon used to be cool, but now?

jay: "damn, yn, how does it feel to have a 6-foot guard dog?"

yn: "he's more like a golden retriever."

jay: "nah, he's a pomeranian. small, yappy, obsessed with his owner."

sunghoon: "i can hear you"

jay: "okay but did i lie????"

in conclusion,, sunghoon’s not gonna be messing up for a long long time

#enhypen imagines #sunghoon imagines #park sunhoon imagines #enhypen sunghoon imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #park sunghoon x you #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen headcanons

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asheepinfrance · 2 days ago

Text

thank you @cha11engers for helping. All is owed to you

INT. White Room in a government facility. Our only setting. It's got a sterile feeling, like a hospital waiting room. In it, two chairs face one another. Between the chairs, a large, metal door.

In the left chair is a GIRL. young, skittish, wearing plain, oversized white clothing. She’s fidgeting, head down, visibly nervous.

Across her, CONNOR MURPHY, a young, male, in the same outfit though his hair and clothing are more disheveled with time. He’s calm, unfazed: clearly, he’s been here a while. He’s observing the girl across from him silently. He is cool but fairly unnerving. A man on the verge.

(after a beat)

CONNOR

So… what’s your deal?

(The GIRL looks up like she hadn’t noticed she had company)

GIRL

My deal?

CONNOR

Yeah, your deal. Like, how’d you end up here?

GIRL

I- I don’t- I mean one second I was home, and the next I’m here, so… and what is ‘here’, anyway?

CONNOR

We think it’s some kind of… court or something like that. Think of it as… pest control.

(He laughs. It’s dry)

Post-suicide pest control. We show up, plead our case, and they… whoever they are… get to choose where we go. Reincarnate or rot. Simple, really.

GIRL

If only suicide victims end up here, then don’t you already know my deal?

CONNOR

Huh… I guess I do.

(After a tense pause)

GIRL

You said- you said they choose where we go... so, reincarnation, right? And what about the rest?

(A beat)

CONNOR

What do you think?

GIRL (processing)

Oh.

CONNOR (mocking)

Oh.

GIRL

Well… what about you? How long have you been here?

CONNOR

You see a calendar in here?

GIRL

No…

CONNOR

So your guess is as good as mine, then, isn’t it?

(He’s slightly angry, though it’s masked by that same coolness. Closer to snapping)

I wouldn’t say too long. Days, weeks, months, maybe. Probably not years, though… probably.

(GIRL is dejected, horrified. A potential-end-of-life crisis.)

GIRL

So I just wait here, dead, to what? Die? I mean, they can’t do this! I- I’ve got family who must be worried sick and they'd want me to-

CONNOR

What makes you so sure?

GIRL

What?

CONNOR

If you’re here, they may not have even noticed you left. What makes you so sure they care? What makes you think they know at all?

GIRL

Because I… Because! I just know. I mean, I’m a good person, I don’t deserve to just go and have no one notice. I deserve better than that. I deserve better than all of this!

CONNOR

You think you deserve better or you want to deserve better?

GIRL

Is there a difference?

CONNOR

I think we both know there is. I mean, all of us want to think we’ve done well, but… here we are, learning maybe we haven’t. We deserve what we get or we wouldn’t get it at all.

GIRL

And you’re fine with that? Knowing your life so far has possibly amounted to nothing?

CONNOR

I am now.

GIRL

So you weren’t before?

(CONNOR smiles without any joy, and observes GIRL again)

#connor murphy #reader insert #art donaldson #mike faist #art donaldson x reader #fic retirement post #i miss lurking #will return when im no longer spiraling

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shuenkio · 4 hours ago

Text

Lover Demon — 제이크

Paring: Jake!Demon X M!reader

Synopsis: Summon the wrong type of demon consequences with something you never thought would ever happen.

Genre: Smut without plot. Cw: curse, smau.

Non proof read | Eng is not my 1st.

Witchcraft is a quiet, curious thing—something that seems to catch only your eye. In a world so full of technology and science, there’s little space left for whispered stories, magic, or the old myths that once felt so real. Those tales have grown faint over time, gently brushed aside by facts and reason, leaving behind a world that’s slowly forgotten how to dream.

Yet you can’t help but gather books on witchcraft—magic, power, rituals, spells, summoning—anything that catches your curiosity, even if most of them are likely just clever tricks for profit. But that doesn’t really matter. It’s enough to quiet your mind, to feel that familiar comfort in studying, in learning about the things that draw you in, no matter how unreal they might seem to others.

The sun sank below the horizon, leaving the sky to rest as a radiant full moon took its place, flooding the earth with silver light. It was the perfect night—the kind you’d been waiting for. Months of study led to this moment, the chance to perform a ritual, to summon a demon that haunted your thoughts. Wishes you’d longed for danced on the edge of possibility. Whether the books were lies or truth didn’t matter. It was worth the risk.

Behind your grandparents’ backyard, surrounded by trees that whispered in the night breeze, lay the perfect place for this ritual. Hidden from prying eyes and safe from interruption, it was the ideal spot to summon the demon that had lingered in your thoughts. Under the full moon’s watchful gaze, the air felt heavy with possibility.

“Finally, I’ve been SUMMONED—” the demon stretched, his body cracking with a sound that echoed through the small, broken-down house. He sighed, clearly relieved to be back in the human world. His glowing eyes scanned the room before landing on you. He blinked, his expression shifting from smug to surprised. “Wait... you’re a guy?” he asked, pointing at you with one sharp claw.

You stood there, clutching the book to your chest, heart pounding as you stared at the towering figure. His horns nearly brushed the ceiling, and his presence filled the room with an aura that made it hard to breathe. You swallowed hard but forced yourself to stand tall. Clearing your throat, you tried to keep your voice steady. “What’s wrong with being a boy?” You scoffed, turning your nose up just a little. “You know damn well you can’t do anything to me since I’m the one who summoned you.” You tried to sound confident, hoping he couldn’t see how your hands were trembling just a bit.

The demon looked at you for a long moment before rolling his eyes. “Ugh, fine. So what do you want? Must be something big if you went through all that trouble.” He crossed his arms, his muscles flexing under his dark skin. “Just so you know, my name’s Jake, and I’m the Demon of Love.” He paused, his face twisting into a scowl. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I know it doesn’t sound all that terrifying, but it’s not what you think. I’m no damn cupid.”

You stared at him, your mind blanking for a moment. Demon of... Love? Your stomach sank as the realization hit you. You’d summoned the wrong demon.

“Uh... hey, so... I think I made a mistake summoning you,” you started, your voice wavering as you tried to keep your composure. “I was... actually looking for a wish demon, not... um... a love demon.” You could feel your face heating up with embarrassment. “So... can you, like... go back by yourself? Or do I have to, uh, do another ritual or something?”

Jake’s glowing red eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable as he stared at you. For a moment, you were convinced he was either furious or just incredibly disappointed, but then he let out a long, dramatic sigh. “Of course. Should’ve known. A rookie,” he muttered, his voice echoing with that eerie double-tone that made your skin crawl.

He crossed his arms, his massive form leaning against the crumbling wall. “You humans never read the fine print, do you?” His eyes roamed over you, lingering just long enough to make you uncomfortable. “Alright, since you’re... kind of handsome and clearly clueless, I’ll tell you the truth. There’s only one way to send me back.”

You waited, holding your breath.

“Mating,” Jake said lazily, as if he were discussing the weather. “Since you’re my summoner, we’d have to... you know, perform a ritual of love. It’s my rule.”

Your jaw dropped, and for a moment, you forgot how to speak. “W-What?” you finally managed, voice cracking in disbelief. “You’re kidding... right?”

Jake just smirked, his sharp teeth gleaming. “Hey, don’t blame me. You summoned the Demon of Love. What did you expect?”

////

Right on the spot, your body was naked where your clothes had been torn into pieces by the love demon. The moment you couldn't even take time to react, that was when it changes to the state that you're in right now, completely butt out and length kiss the cold air. However that's just the beginning, The love demon— shape shift himself into the human version of his, in order to intimate the rule he just spit, for a better saying was to FUCK Jake to send him back.

A flash red light flickering, before Jake stands proud in front of you with his exposed flesh. His build masculine body makes you question whether this is a reward or a punishment? Not to mention in detail was that— even though Jake was a demon, he understood the human need... A bit all too well for how lustful they are in bed, and he isn't any better from humans, Jake likes it more than they ever would.

The 12 inches cock hanging between his legs, the balls are covered in a heavy skin stretching like a cauliflower. Jake's tense thighs only to fuel your desire to just kneel right there before him and begging for his to fuck your brain out of you.

Yet you made no move. In a blink of an eyes you find yourself on the red comfortable mistress to the unknown, the dark absorbed any surrounded which all you see is blank plain ancient walls around.

Jake wastes no time before Lough into your smaller frame which caused you to yelp in a surprise manner. As your back hits the cold bed before his hip enters your closet personal space. Your groin of course. The demon itself tends to know a lot of people's daily life and stuff, nevertheless he doesn't know how to kiss, to intimate more sexual love making, to bond more yet all he knows was to mate and fuck, that's all he's good at.

"If you dare to PUSH me off right now darling, I'll be forever stuck here with you for a century, and boy—I do not care if you have a manhood to make children, i fuck whoever summon ME!" Cool sweat dripping down on your forehead, with a shriek were heard inside the chamber once Jake's enormous largely cock entered the tightness of yours.

For once in his whole life— Jake could finally find pleasure for the first time in humans, resulting in him throwing his head back, goosebumps running down in his vein as his both reds glow eyes disappear into white. The pleasure of his cock burying the inside of your hole alone already turning Jake into a wild animal.

"Holy Demon— mhmm why is it SAUR GOOD I fucking love it, need to BREED with my fucking FERTILIZER SEED ARG" The demon shriek to the undeniable lust he felt in this moment, his growling alluring through your ear drum.

"Unghh... fuck! So goddamn tight...!"

Your eyes turn white of the intense pleasure, my ass hole is too taunt better than a vice, make him fold into two even though he was pounding me just like demon possessed. It was too much for us yet it was too overstimulated for Jake, to hold on to the point he needed something to hold on.

The taller frame grunts and pants harshly, sweat beading on his brow as he struggles to maintain his relentless pace, your incredibly tight hole clenching and fluttering around his pistoning cock like a silken vise. "Shit... M/n... your fucking ass... it's too goddamn tight!"

He snarls through gritted teeth, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

His hips slap against your ass with brutal force, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room along with his animalistic grunts and groans. The couch creaks and shakes beneath you with the force of his thrusts, threatening to topple over.

Jake leans forward, his chest pressing against your back as he tries to find some semblance of stability. His hot, ragged breaths fall against your neck and ear, his lips latching onto your skin to bite and suck. He's quickly losing himself in the tight, wet heat engulfing his cock, his movements becoming more erratic and desperate.

Suddenly, he hilts inside you, grinding his pelvis flush against your ass, his heavy balls slapping lewdly against your taint. He stays there for a moment, just savoring the feeling of being completely sheathed in your clenching channel before he starts rolling his hips, stirring his thick cock around inside you.

His hand snakes around your body, grasping your own weeping erection, squeezing and stroking it in time with his relentless thrusts. "Unghh... fuck... I can feel every throb, every twitch of this greedy little cunt... like it's sucking me in fucking deeper...!" Whimpers sniff painted his face, he's absolutely destroying himself.

He changes the angle of his thrusts slightly, aiming straight for that sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside you. With each snap of his hips, he grinds against that spot, determined to make you fall apart on his cock.

The pressure builds rapidly in his heavy, churning balls as he chases his pleasure, his strokes becoming shorter and sharper, his grip on your hips tightening. He's getting close... too fucking close. But he won't stop, not until he's pumped every last drop of his hot, thick seed deep into your guts.

His hips slap against your ass with brutal force, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room along with his animalistic grunts and groans. The bed creaks and shakes beneath you with the force of his thrusts, threatening to topple over.

Jake collapses heavily against your back, his entire body shaking and twitching with the force of his intense orgasm. A guttural, almost feral roar tears from his throat as he empties his aching, overstimulated balls deep inside you, painting your inner walls white with thick ropes of his scalding cum.

His cock jerks and pulses wildly as it pumps what feels like an endless stream of jizz into your spasming hole, the sheer volume of it causing some to leak out around his shaft and drip down onto the couch. He grinds against you, making sure to push his load in as deep as it can go, marking your insides with his essence.

But the overwhelming sensations and the intense pleasure pushing him over the edge also have an unintended consequence. As he's lost in the throes of his release, feeling your body clench and milk his spurting cock, he loses control of another bodily function. A warm, unfamiliar sensation rushes through his shaft, and suddenly, he feels a strong, forceful stream of piss erupting from his cock, mixing with the thick cum already flooding your ass.

Panic rises in his chest as he realizes what's happening, but he's too far gone, too consumed by the all-encompassing pleasure radiating from his core. He can only let out choked, strangled groans as he continues to empty his overstimulated body into yours, the heat of his piss momentarily startling you, even as it washes away the excess cum.

After what feels like an eternity, his release finally starts to taper off, leaving him slumped against your back, both of you coated in sweat and the remnants of his spending. His softening cock, still buried deep inside your cream-filled hole, gives a few last weak pulses, a few last drops of piss and cum dribbling lazily into you.

The man remains in place, his entire body heavy and sated, his breathing slowly returning to a somewhat normal pace after the intense workout. He nuzzles into your neck, pressing soft kisses to your sweat-slicked skin, a rare moment of gentle intimacy. He's utterly spent, but a part of him is still marveling at the incredible tightness of your body, the way it took everything he had to give and then some.

"cum... It's coming...."

Jake could feels the hot spurts of your release splattering against his fingers and your stomach, mixed with the sweat and other fluids already covering both of your bodies. A slow, satisfied smirk spreads across his face, his chest rumbling with a deep, approving groan. "Heh... that's it, M/n... come for me just like the needy little slut you are. I can feel you fucking soaking my hand with it...— I guess I won't fucking leave this human world you're now forever mine— My you"

The slave mark appears on your lower tummy.

A/n: Some part might be confused so I'll left into your imagination. This was inspired by bff of mine— from my famous friend @angelsfat3

Funtalk: Dare to get rail by demon Jake?

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aaplecore · 1 day ago

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Save a Horse, Ride a Cowgirl

(Agatha Harkness x fem!reader)

Summary: An unfamiliar cowgirl comes into the saloon you work in one day, helping you deal with a group of creepy regulars.

Warnings/tags: None, only minor nsfw stuff (Implications)

Notes: This is not proofread at all… it might be a little off, sorry </3

I have some better stuff planned for after this, trust 😇

(plus I don’t have writers block so I’ll be posting frequently hopefully….)

On a hot, dry, summer day, you were working your usual hours at Westview’s local tavern. As a barmaid, the pay was fair, plus you got free drinks… but you also had to deal with a constant onslaught of touchy-feely cowboys. Drunk cowboys, at that.

Of course, this meant learning to deal with guys grabbing your ass every now and then… but, tonight, they were being especially rowdy.

“Why don’t you give us a smile, baby!”

One of the men called, slapping your ass as you walked away with a tray of drinks. If it weren’t risking your job you’d knock his lights out. Since that isn’t exactly possible if you want to afford rent, you turn around quickly to rip him a new one instead, even though it would mean a few days of working the closing shift alone… just before you feel a woman’s hand resting on the crook of your back.

“Herb… are you bothering this beautiful young lady right now?”

She asks, glaring at the man. He looks… scared?

“No. ‘Course not, Agatha.”

He says quickly, shaking his head. He’s now looking down into the glass of whiskey, avoiding the woman’s gaze. You look over at her to see her intently glaring at the man, a look of warning. You also noticed she just so happened to be kind of hot.

“Hm. Okay. I just want to let you know…”

Agatha steps up to the table, letting go of you and resting her hands on the table, looking over the man—Herb, presumably—with an intimidating stare.

“If I ever see you grope another woman like that i’ll knock your sorry ass into next week, m’kay?”

She says quietly, standing up with a smile, as if she hasn’t just threatened this grown man. He doesn’t even try to argue…

As soon as you look back at her, you see she’s staring, looking you up and down with a smile.

“You alright, dollface?”

She asks, guiding you away from their table and back to the bar with a hand on your back again. Her fingers drum in your waist as she walks and her grip is firm… but also clearly delicate.

“I’m fine. Thank you for that. I would’ve gotten three shifts of closing if I did it…”

You mumble, walking around the bar as she leans in on the bar top, closer to you, that same smirk on her face.

“I’m y/n.”

You hold out your hand to her, taking the time in front of her to look her up and down. She was clad in a brown suit and matching hat, her long, wavy hair falling over her shoulders and around her face. For a cowboy—cowgirl?—she really was stunning.

“y/n…”

She smiles wider, shaking your hand firmly in hers. As soon as she’s done shaking your hand, she pulls it up and presses a kiss to the back of your palm. Her lips are surprisingly soft. And warm. It makes you blush a little.

“I’m Agatha. Agatha Harkness. It’s a pleasure, beautiful.”

She says confidently, very, very obviously flirting with you at this point. Although, based on her general… vibe, you assumed this wasn’t anything special.

Finally, after letting her hand linger for a moment, she lets go of you and removed her hat, leaving it on the bar. You almost missed the way her calloused hand felt in yours, even after only knowing her for a matter of minutes.

“So, how long have you been working here, doll?”

She asks, tilting her head to the side, her chin resting in hers hand. You can’t tell if she’s sizing you up or checking you out. Maybe a bit of both.

“About a year now. It’s not a bad gig. Other than the creepy dudes.”

You huff, glaring over at Herb once more before turning to look at Agatha again.

Okay, now she’s definitely checking you out. The way she’s staring… but you didn’t exactly seem to mind it. Really, your face flushed a little and you felt a sort of warmth spread within you.

“They’re a bunch of dicks, sweetheart. Although… they’re not wrong.”

She says lowly, tilting her head to the side.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying that. You must know how beautiful you are, especially with how much… attention you get around here.”

She shrugs, casually complimenting you like it was nothing. Not even your regulars complimented you this much.

“I- well, thank you. I… don’t mind it.”

You admit, smiling a little at her.

She smiles back, tapping her fingers on the wooden bar top. You couldn’t help but get a little distracted by her fingers. A weird thing to be distracted by… but damn.

“Well… it was lovely to meet you dollface, but I ought to be going. Hopefully i’ll see you around.”

She says, winking at you as she stands up, waving with a wiggle of her fingers as she walks out, her hips swinging with her steps. The doors to the saloon swing shut… and shes gone before you even got the chance to really talk to her.

You sigh as she leaves, and turn around to clean the bar top to busy yourself… until you spot her hat still on the bar top. Immediately, you grabbed it and ran out the door, looking for her… but she was already gone.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair, contemplating what to do. Looking over the hat, you spot a small label on the inside… with an address! This couldn’t have been better. Now you had an excuse to see her again and she could get her hat back.

————ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

A few days later, when you finally had a day off, you decided it was the perfect time to deliver Agatha’s hat.

You put on your favorite outfit, making sure you looked as cute as you could for her.

It’s a surprisingly short walk from your house to hers. It was perfect. When you arrived, you knocked on the slightly worn wooden door, waiting with her hat in hand for her to come.

“Hey… dollface, what’re you doing here?”

She asks as she opens the door, leaning in the doorway, smirking down at you. Could a few days make someone even hotter?

“I have your hat. You left it at the bar the other day.”

You shrug, smiling as you hand her the hat.

She takes it from you and places it back on her head.

“That’s awful sweet of you… how about you come in for a drink? I’m not sure it can measure up to what you have at that little saloon, but it’s the company that matters, dont’cha think?”

She asks, motioning you to follow her inside. Now, you had a chance to look her over. She was only wearing a flannel and jeans with a white tank top. Much less… formal than the other day. And she pulled it off.

“You drink whiskey?”

She calls out, pulling down a bottle as you walk in. You come in to stand next to her in the kitchen, resting your elbow on her counter, watching her pour two glasses before you even answer.

“Here, dollface. Thanks for returning my hat.”

She smiles, handing you the small glass and clinking yours with hers. After you take a sip, she places her hands on your waist to guide you in front of her while she leans back on the counter.*

“You’re awful nice for hand-delivering this, sweetheart… you didn’t want to wait for me to come back to the saloon?”

She asks, tilting her head to the side while she holds you against her. The way her hands feel, gripping your waist, pulling you against her… it’s like you were putty in her hands. Instinctively, you place your hands on her chest, almost to keep yourself up straight just in case you get a little weak in the knees.

“I- uh, I wanted to make sure you got it. Just in case I wasn’t working.”

You make up an excuse, obviously not wanting to explain ‘I thought you were hot and I really wanted to see you without a gaggle of handsy men watching us’.

Agatha sees right through it. It’s obvious you’re lying. So… she runs with it, leaning in a little bit to tease you, pressing her lips to your jawline… then down your neck… to your ear. You definitely weren’t expecting that.

“That’s it? You’re too nice for your own good, dollface.”

She mumbles between kisses, looking up at you as she hears your breath hitch in your throat, noticing the way your grip gets a bit tighter in the fabric of her flannel.

“Not that I mind you coming over…”

“Well… maybe there was something else.”

You shrug, biting your lip to hold back a little moan when she kisses a particularly sensitive spot on your neck.

She chuckles in response, running a hand up your side.

“There was? And what might that be?”

She asks sarcastically. She already knows the answer… she just wants to tease it out of you.

“I wanted to see you.”

You admit, running one of yours hands up to her neck, trying to guide her face to yours.

“To get to know you.”

Agatha smiles at that, smirking with that cocky smile on her face. She can infer the rest from there.

“Well, aren’t I lucky…”

She mutters, following the guidance of your hand and bringing her face at-level with yours, kissing you before either of you can think any better of it. Her lips are still as soft as they felt on your hand… except now you can feel the slight callouses and cracks. It only makes it better. She brings one hand up to cut your cheek, gently rubbing your ur face with her thumb as she other hand grips your hip tighter.

After a second, she pulls away, panting softly.

“How about we go back to my room, dollface?”

“That would be nice.”

You reply quickly nodding. Before you know it, she’s kissing you all over, pulling you pack to her room with her.

#agatha all along #agatha x fem!reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness #fic rec #wlw #cowboy #cowboy au #agatha harkness au #agatha x reader

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misakiisstupid · 1 day ago

Text

TOP SECRET THERAPY FILE

Patient: Bruce Wayne Therapist: Dr. Misaki Eto, Ph.D. Date: [REDACTED] Session Number: 1 Security Clearance: LEVEL OMEGA

SESSION TRANSCRIPT – EXTREME CONFIDENTIALITY ENFORCED

Dr. Eto’s Pre-Session Notes: Bruce Wayne does not talk.

That was the warning. That’s what every previous therapist wrote down in their notes before giving up and moving on. “Uncooperative.” “Unwilling.” “A waste of time.”

I was prepared for a man who would sit in front of me for an hour, arms crossed, saying nothing. Maybe he’d throw in a grumble for variety. I was fully expecting my coffee to do all the work in this session.

I was not expecting Bruce Wayne to walk into my office and, within minutes, lay his entire existential crisis at my feet.

[BEGIN TRANSCRIPT]

Dr. Eto: Mr. Wayne.

Bruce Wayne: Doctor.

(Note: Patient sits with perfect posture, but there’s tension in his shoulders. Not defensiveness—exhaustion. His jaw is clenched, his eyes are sharp, and he already looks like he regrets being here. Expected behavior so far.)

Dr. Eto: You’ve never stuck with therapy before. What changed?

Bruce Wayne: I have nothing to prove anymore.

(Translation: He got tired of pretending he was fine. Interesting.)

Dr. Eto: That’s not really an answer.

Bruce Wayne: I don’t have time to sit in a chair and—

(He stops. Exhales sharply. There’s a shift—like he’s realized, in real-time, that the excuse doesn’t work anymore. He leans forward slightly, rubbing a hand down his face before speaking again.)

Bruce Wayne: No. That’s a lie. I could make time. I just don’t.

(Note: Self-awareness. That’s rare. He moves past the lie without shame, which means he’s thought about this before.)

Dr. Eto: And yet, here you are.

(He huffs a humorless laugh. Shakes his head slightly. Then—)

Bruce Wayne: …I’m so tired.

(His voice drops, almost a whisper. His hands tighten on the armrests of his chair, but he doesn’t look away. I let the silence settle. He fills it himself.)

Bruce Wayne: You know how long I’ve been doing this? I don’t even know. My whole life? Feels like it. Every night, out there, trying to fix things that just keep breaking. Gotham never stops. It never slows down. The second you think you’ve won, another criminal, another tragedy, another disaster, another war. It’s like trying to drain the ocean with a cup. And the worst part? It’s not the sleepless nights, or the fighting. It’s the fact that I’ve dragged people into this.

(His fists clench for half a second before relaxing. He inhales slowly. Keeps going.)

Bruce Wayne: I tell myself I didn’t have a choice. That it was either bring them in or let them get themselves killed. That if I didn’t train them, they’d still be out there—just worse off. But that doesn’t help when I see the scars on their backs. When I realize I’ve raised them to fight a war I still don’t know how to win.

(He leans back, staring at the ceiling. His voice turns flat, factual—like listing his failures makes them easier to control.)

Bruce Wayne: Jason died.

(Pause.)

Dr. Eto: I know.

Bruce Wayne: He came back. And he hates me for it. And he’s right. Because if I had been faster, if I had been better, he wouldn’t have died in the first place.

(His expression doesn’t change. His voice doesn’t shake. But he blinks—too slow, like he’s forcibly suppressing something before it surfaces.)

Bruce Wayne: But he still calls me when he needs backup. He still comes home sometimes. So what does that mean?

(He waits for an answer I can’t give. He doesn’t expect one anyway. He moves on before I can try.)

Bruce Wayne: Damian doesn’t sleep. At all. I pretend I don’t notice, but I see the lights under his door at three in the morning. He’s ten, and he thinks he has to be better than me. I don’t know how to tell him that I don’t want that. That I never wanted any of this for him.

(His voice tightens, but he doesn’t stop.)

Bruce Wayne: Tim is running himself into the ground. His diet consists of caffeine and spite. He thinks I don’t see what’s happening. He thinks I don’t notice the way his hands shake when he reaches for his fifth cup of coffee at two in the morning. But if I say something, he’ll just double down out of principle.

(He huffs, shaking his head slightly—like he’s amused, but also furious. He keeps talking before he can stop himself.)

Bruce Wayne: And Dick? Dick is the best person I’ve ever known. He’s a better man than me. But every time he looks at me, I can see the part of him that still thinks I should have stopped him from leaving.

(He exhales sharply, rubbing his temple. His voice shifts, quieter now. Almost detached.)

Bruce Wayne: I make sure they have everything. I do everything I can to keep them safe. And it’s still not enough. I wasn’t enough for my parents. I wasn’t enough for Jason. I wasn’t enough to save Gotham. And I don’t know if I ever will be.

(Long silence. His fingers tap against the armrest of his chair. A restless habit. I say nothing. He finally looks at me again, head tilting slightly, evaluating.)

Bruce Wayne: You’re a good listener.

Dr. Eto: It’s my job.

(He smirks. Just a little. Then it’s gone.)

Bruce Wayne: Hn. Maybe I’ll come back.

(He stands up. Session over. He doesn’t even give me a chance to respond. He’s already gone.)

Dr. Eto’s Post-Session Notes:

I was told Bruce Wayne would never talk.

I think the truth is, nobody ever listened.

FILE STATUS: TOP SECRET ACCESS RESTRICTED TO AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY END OF TRANSCRIPT.

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bobasbn · 2 days ago

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a flame that ignited fire (2)

1.6k words again | Sylus achieved his goal and is finally having a daughter but now he must deal with his wife's pregnancy cravings. Read part one <- here

“Are you alright, my love? Is the pillow fluffed up to your liking? Should I get you some snacks? Do you want anything else?” Sylus asks you profusely. He’s been nothing but attentive and worrisome ever since you were confirmed to actually be pregnant.

Sylus was driven to tears when you showed him a positive pregnancy test after all his effort to convince you that a baby is just what you two need. It’s been six months since then, you haven’t gotten the chance to even feel any discomfort without Sylus swooping in and pampering you with every available resource he has.

“Everything’s fine, thank you,” you say with a smile. You hold onto Sylus’s hand, your thumb gently turning the wedding band on his finger. All you wanted to do was lounge on the couch and watch a movie but your husband refused to let you move without him preparing the couch for your maximum comfort.

Sylus lowers himself to his knees in front of the couch, resting his elbows up right beside you. His eyes have been carrying a certain sparkle to them lately, an undeniable softness has been gracing his features, reminiscent of the way he looked at Riley when he realised that the baby wasn’t afraid of him.

“I’ve been having the tendency to be… overbearing,” Sylus admits sheepishly. His hand raises to smooth your hair back in a soothing manner. “Just tell me if you need me to just shut up and leave you alone.” He reminds you. He’s more than aware of his new habit of pampering you to an almost overwhelming degree sometimes. It’s endearing for the most part except for the select few times where your mood was naturally sour due to the pregnancy and you had chided Sylus for not giving you space.

“You know I will,” you joke, admiring the way Sylus has been stealing your pregnancy glow. You definitely envy it, the way his skin has been glowing and eyes glistening. You always thought it was the pregnant lady who was supposed to have that shine laid upon her skin, not her husband who is far too elated to be a father.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. He never fails to remind you of that either. “My precious girls.” Sylus gently rubs his hand over your pregnancy bump. Along with being driven to tears once he found out you were pregnant, his waterworks started up again when you found out you were going to have a daughter. You swear he’s been bearing the larger half of the emotional instability and moodiness between you two.

A girl is exactly what you were wishing for. The idea of giving Sylus a daughter that will melt down his tough exterior and bring out this vulnerable side like this is heartwarming.

Sylus stayed home because he was feeling worried after you had expressed your discomfort in your lower back. He prepared hot water bottles, fluffed up all your pillows and catered to your every request.

“Aren’t you tired? You’ve been awake all day,” you ask Sylus as you climb back into bed. After an adventurous day of laying on the couch on this bright weekend, you’re back in bed.

“Truthfully, I’m a little fatigued. But it’s nothing that I can’t handle,” Sylus says, but he’s already sitting up in bed with his hands folded in his lap. His eyes look like they’ll fall shut at any moment now.

You fix the blanket over your body. You’re just about to say something back to Sylus but when you look back at him, he’s already snoozing away. You can’t help but chuckle. Of course he pretended as if staying up all day didn’t bother him at all.

You relish in the moment of silence that lulls you to sleep in the peaceful atmosphere of the room.

In the early hours of the morning, about 4am, you’re jolted awake by your own senses.

You were feeling warmer even though the temperature of the room hasn’t changed. A sudden itch prickles around your abdomen and you feel some discomfort from the position you ended up in while sleeping. You lean over to turn the lamp on your bedside table on, feeling yourself involuntarily becoming more awake. To top it all off, you have a hunger for something cold. Cold, sweet and fruity, slightly floral. You smack your lips, noticing that your husband isn’t up and around like he usually would be at this time.

Despite not abiding by his usual sleep schedule, he’s still an incredibly light sleeper and his scarlet eyes are soon open and adjusting to the dim lighting.

“Sweetheart? Are you alright?” He husks, his deep voice almost inaudible from just waking up. He stretches his arms out, his muscles flexing as he props himself up.

“I’m not feeling good,” you admit. Sylus immediately becomes alert.

“What’s the matter?”

“I’m hot, I’m itchy, uncomfortable and I want blueberry lavender ice cream,” you list out your issues. Your husband’s fingers touch your cheeks, noting the slight warmth to them.

“Blueberry lavender ice cream? Where would I find that at… 4 in the morning?” He inquires out loud, already planning on how he’ll fulfill your craving at this ungodly hour.

You shrug your shoulders, your mind running a bit too rampant about all the negative things you’re experiencing and not caring at all for the new quandary you’ve imposed on your husband. He gently rubs your back as you stiffly sit up, your joints feeling as if there’s something jammed between the sockets.

“I’ll be right back,” Sylus assures. His tiredness from just a moment ago disappears in a blink as he walks out of the room. Soon enough he comes back and props a hot water bottle behind your back and adjusts your pillow to make you more comfortable.

“Ice cream…” You mutter, clutching to the fabric of his shirt. The more you were awake, the more you craved the cold, sugary treat. You felt as if you would die without the ice cream you desire, like your stomach will simply twist up and kill you.

“Of course,” he responds and immediately nods his head. He presses a chaste kiss to your temple before heading out on his exploration for ice cream, specifically blueberry lavender ice cream which isn’t just found anywhere. Sylus has never run so fast in his life for something so trivial as ice cream. He knows he’s on limited time but the task isn’t an easy one, and every convenience store he stops by doesn’t have this specific flavour.

You rest your head against the pillow supporting your neck, shifting a bit as you absentmindedly rub your hand over your pregnancy bump. This daughter of yours is already giving you such a hard time before she’s even been born. She already has her father running mindlessly through the streets to fulfill her every whim.

Half an hour goes by and your cravings do not settle at all. If anything, they’re growing stronger. You try to distract yourself with your phone but everything is swirling into blue and purples hues, breaking into mosaics and forming the image of blueberry and lavender in your mind. It’s driving you insane.

The door almost breaks down when Sylus makes his return and he immediately starts making a big clatter downstairs which catches your attention. You tried to ignore it for the first few minutes but your curiosity grew to know if he ended up getting the ice cream or not. You muster up all the strength you can to push yourself off the bed and you pad downstairs curiously to see what your husband is up to.

To your surprise, when you enter the kitchen you’re met with the sight of Sylus handling an ice cream machine. A violet mixture churns in the machine, looking like the product of all your wishes right now.

“You’re making ice cream?” You lean your head against his arm, earning a kiss on the head from him.

“I couldn’t find it anywhere. But, fresh ingredients will taste much better,” Sylus says calmly. He had gone ahead and bought the raw ingredients just to make the ice cream you want at home. Despite being married to him for a significant amount of time, he still finds ways to make your heart melt.

You watch the ice cream being mixed for a few more minutes before he opens the lid to get a peek of the creation inside. You couldn’t resist swiping a finger through the smooth cream, taking a taste and your body instantly rests as you do. All the senses in your mind that were screaming for blueberry lavender ice cream were silenced the moment you finally got access to the fruitful, floral treat.

“Yes, this is it,” you nod. Even though the ice cream wasn’t set, it was calling your name. You served yourself a large bowl with every drop of the ice cream that Sylus made for you. You brought the bowl back to bed with you, your husband following behind closely like a puppy making sure that this was enough to satiate your craving.

“Is it good, sweetheart?” He asks. You hold up a spoonful of the ice cream to his mouth, it’s more cream than ice. He takes a bite, eyebrows raising with delight.

“I’ve been waiting my entire life for this,” you murmur. You hog the rest of the bowl, shoveling spoonful after spoonful into your mouth as your husband watches with a sense of admiration for you. He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, a small smile on his face.

“I’m glad you’re happy,” he gently taps his finger against your nose. His eyes flit down to your belly.

“I can’t wait to meet her,” he whispers, his eyes full of wonder. He wouldn’t get annoyed even if he had to fly to the ends of the Earth to satisfy your cravings. It all didn’t matter as long as he was helping you feel better, and that he was getting closer everyday to meeting his daughter.

He was already ready to give up everything to take care of you two, his girls, his entire world. You two were definitely going to be spoiled rotten by Sylus.

#love and deepspace #lnds sylus #lnds #qin che #sylus qin #more sylus girl dad #more domestic fluff sylus

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berfgrimm · 7 hours ago

Text

staring at the sun: bae bae | choi seunghyun (t.o.p) x reader

pairing: choi seunghyun (t.o.p) x f!reader

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral, fingering, dirty talk, deepthroating, fluff, spanking, biting. i think that’s pretty much it?

note: the final part of staring at the sun. i appreciate everyone’s patience for this, and I hope you all enjoy! i’ve linked the previous parts below.

staring at the sun | phone call | payback | valentine

———————

Seunghyun convinces you to move in with him ten minutes after his bandmates find out about your relationship. Truth be told, you were ready to move in the moment he suggested it, but you wanted to play hard to get; now that he has you, it felt more fun.

His persuasion technique is clever, if not slightly diabolical. Once he pulls you into the shower with him, he takes some time to kiss you and touch you gently as the water cascades around both of you. When he helps you wrap your legs around his waist with your back pinned to the shower wall, pumping into you slowly and deeply, he suddenly stops. You clench around and try to use the strength of your legs to urge him to continue, but he only grins deviously.

“Are you going to move in with me?” Seunghyun asks, placing teasing kisses along your jaw. You whimper in response, your nails digging into his back as you try to find the words to beg him. “You can feel this every single night,” he continues, pulling himself out of you just a little. “You can taste me every night.”

“Baby,” you whine. “You know I’ll move in…please, don’t stop.” Seunghyun laughs excitedly, kissing you on the lips so hard, your head bumps against the wall behind you. You attempt a laugh against his lips, but it comes out in a muffled moan when Seunghyun shoves himself back inside of you.

Over the next few days, Seunghyun enlists the help of his bandmates to move you into his home. The other men ask more questions than you expect, desperate to know when you started your secret relationship. You notice the more questions they ask, the more irritated Seunghyun becomes and when you have a moment alone in the kitchen, you corner him to find out the problem.

“I don’t feel like sharing today,” he admits, avoiding eye contact with you. You bite your lip to hide the smile because you rarely see him look this vulnerable and annoyed. “What’s funny?” he asks, when he finally looks at you.

“You’re jealous that I’m getting along with your friends?”

“I didn’t say that,” Seunghyun responds.

“You did, a little bit,” you laugh.

“Oh, yeah?” Seunghyun chuckles along with you, trying to keep a serious look but failing. “That’s funny to you? That I don’t want to share you with them?” He grabs your hips and yanks you closer to him, kissing you aggressively to make you laugh. When he tries to slide his hands into your back pockets, you grab his forearms and pull them away from you, pinning them behind his back with a smile on your face.

“You're crazy if you think I’m going to let you do anything like that while they’re still here,” you laugh. Seunghyun gives you a pout, pretending to struggle hard against your gentle grip on his arms. He finally drops his shoulders and lets out a dramatic sigh, no longer able to hide the smile on his face. “When they leave, we can lay in your bed and you can touch my ass all you want,” you joke, releasing his arms.

“Our bed,” he corrects, grabbing your hips again to pull you towards him for a soft kiss. Your heart skips a beat at the way it sounds: our bed.

“Fine,” you whisper. “But it’s still my ass.”

“No, it’s not, it’s mine.” His hands quickly slip past your waist and he pinches you, causing you to let out a yelp and shove him away, your laugh loud enough to alert the others.

“You can’t do that while we’re here,” Taeyang scolds, as they reenter the room.

“Did we walk into this again?” Daesung laughs.

“I don’t want to watch that,” Jiyong says.

“I tried to tell him,” you shrug. “But he does whatever he wants.”

The rest of the day is smoother, Seunghyun lightens up and is more willing to joke. That night he takes you up on your offer to touch you as much as he wants, but you have no complaints.

The next few days seem to fly by. You get adjusted into your new home with ease, though you feel the urge to pinch yourself because it doesn’t feel real. Standing at the kitchen sink, cleaning a glass, your mind wanders to how quickly things changed for you, and how happy you are. Until you hear Seunghyun enter the kitchen and feel him step between you and the island counter.

”Don’t turn around,” Seunghyun says, his voice a little stern, but also mischievous. You set your cup down in the sink and turn off the taps, staring at the wall ahead of you as you wait for what comes next. “Close your eyes,” he speaks slowly, but you can feel his breath against your neck.

When you close your eyes, you focus on his proximity to you, heat radiating from him. It’s silent, apart from the sound of both of you breathing, and you can only wait for his next instruction.

“I take care of you, don’t I?” His voice is low, but you can still feel his breath hot on your skin, sending a shiver through you. “I give you everything you need,” he continues, nuzzling his head against yours. “Don’t I?”

“Of course you do, baby,” you whisper, gripping the edge of the sink as you feel your knees getting weak just from the way he speaks.

“And you know how to take care of me,” Seunghyun says. “You know exactly what I need…and what I love…” You can tell he leans closer to you, just barely brushing against you as you feel his arms reach past you, presumably to brace against the sink as well. “You’re a good girl,” he goes on. “My good girl…my princess.”

“I love taking care of you,” you mumble. You inch your hand along the sink to place atop his, when you feel he’s wearing leather gloves. “Are you —?” You stop short when you look down at his hands, and see tan gloves along with thepurple sleeves of his jacket. “Oh, god,” you mutter, tipping your head back to bump softly against his.

“Surprise,” he whispers against your ear.

“You didn’t have to—”

“I told you I would. I like to keep my promises.”

“But this is so—”

“Does it turn you on that this is how I’m dressed right now?” A flush spreads across your body and you aren’t sure if it’s from the way his voice sounds or the embarrassment to admit how attractive you think he looks in this specific outfit. “It’s just you and I, princess,” he adds, slipping his hands from your grasp and placing them on top of yours. “We’re in our home…we can do whatever we want here. We can say whatever we want here.”

“Fuck, Seunghyun,” you mumble, shifting your weight to to press your body against his.

“Tell me, princess,” he groans in your ear, grinding against you softly. “Does it turn you on?”

“Yes,” you whisper. “It does. Please let me see you.”

“You don’t have to beg me, baby.” You can hear Seunghyun smiling as he speaks, and it increases the butterflies in your stomach. He releases his hold on your hands, allowing you to turn around and face him.

You could try for years and you wouldn’t be able to pinpoint what turns you on about this look in particular. Being close to him while he’s dressed this way, being able to touch him like you’d envisioned before, you find it hard to focus on what it is you want to do. Your eyes dart all over him, taking in the teal waistcoat, the orange tie, the purple suit, and the contacts.

“Go to the bedroom,” Seunghyun directs, his eyes focused on your mouth. “Take off your clothes.” You nod, still lost in your thoughts about how he looks, not completely tuned into what he says. “Go,” he urges, squeezing your side.

You follow instructions, going to the bedroom and taking off your clothes. You’re down to your bra and panties when Seunghyun walks into the room, walking slowly, almost a strut, as he sizes you up. You feel nervous under his gaze, bringing back the old feelings from when you first began your relationship with him. He notices your sudden shyness, and sidles up to you, placing his hand against your lower back to hold you close.

“Relax,” Seunghyun whispers with a smile. “If you feel shy, remember: you’re home with me.” When you nod in response, he places a soft kiss to your lips and then slips past you to climb onto the bed, settling comfortably at the head of the bed with his back against the pillows.

Even with his contacts in, you can read the adoration in his expression as you remove the rest of your clothes and step towards the side of the bed. He holds out his gloved hand, and you take it to support your movements as he leads you onto the bed, straddling him.

“Now,” Seunghyun says, setting his hands on your hips and urging you to press your weight fully onto him. “What do you want to do?” The fabric of his pants rubs against you as you squirm, trying to avoid the urge to fully grind against him. “Is that what you pictured?” he asks, peering up at you for a moment before averting his gaze to his lap to watch you rub against him. “You’re wet already just from talking?”

“You get me like this,” you whisper, leaning in for a kiss.

Seunghyun smiles against your lips, then quickly slips his tongue into your mouth. You feel the leather of his glove as one of his hands slides from your hip up to your ribs, painfully slow until he cups your breast. You pull in a breath, leaning back to give him a bit of space to do what he wants.

The sight of him looking up at you while he drags his thumb across your nipple, a sheepish expression on his face that you’re certain is his way of teasing you with those contacts in, is almost too much to bear. He leans closer again, pressing a kiss to your other breast, near your nipple, while his thumb teases the opposite. He traces around your nipple with the tip of his tongue, then takes it into his mouth. You thread your fingers through his hair to hold him close, grinding your hips against him. When Seunghyun’s teeth graze over your nipple, you tighten your grip on his hair, giving a small tug without really meaning to.

“Mmm,” he hums, tipping his head back, looking up at you as he licks his lips. “I would have moved you in with me sooner if I knew this is what I’d be treated to.”

Seunghyun slides his hands over your body, the leather gloves rubbing against the skin of your stomach and your thighs. The sensation begins to feel too synthetic and you ache to feel his soft hands on you instead, so you grab his wrists to stop him. He peers up at you with his brow furrowed at first until you begin to remove the gloves.

“I should have known better than to keep my hands hidden from you,” he mutters, a smirk spreading across his lips, as you toss the gloves to the floor. “How do you want me to touch you now?” He licks his lips and tilts his head to the side to catch your gaze. “What did you think of me doing to you while dressed like this?”

“You can do whatever you want,” you sigh, grasping the sides of his face to angle his head up to kiss him deeply. Seunghyun’s fingers curl around your hips, coaxing you to grind against him again. “Fuck,” you mutter against his lips, pressing your forehead to his when you feel him through his pants. “You love to talk about how wet I get, but I can feel how hard you are right now.”

“You should know how much you turn me on by now, princess,” he mutters, gripping your hips more firmly to force you to move faster. “Knowing how much you need me…and how much you think about me…I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too.”

“Hmm, you look so beautiful like this,” he breathes, kissing your jaw and your neck tenderly. When you circle your hips, Seunghyun lets out a strangled groan and gives a surprisingly hard bite to your neck.

“Fuck!” you gasp, grabbing his shoulders. He looks up at you with a slightly worried expression, but you only grind yourself faster against him.

“Was that okay?” he asks. “I know we haven’t really—”

“It felt really good,” you whimper.

“You like that, hm?” he asks, with a smirk.

“You’re going to make me come on your lap if we do this too much longer.”

The expression on his face shifts to something mischievous, as though he takes your words as a challenge instead of a warning. He tries to urge you to quicken your pace by squeezing your hips, but you tense, slowing your movements as you begin to conjure up a new idea. You smile, reaching between your bodies, undoing his belt.

Seunghyun licks his lips in anticipation, watching as you unfasten his pants and shift your hips enough to reach into his briefs. As soon as your fingers make contact with him, you tug him free from the fabric, stroking over the length of him at a slow pace. You pause for a moment to slip your fingers between your own thighs, gathering your juices and using them to coat his erection.

You loved hearing the noises of restraint that Seunghyun let rattle in his chest, but you loved hearing him be vocal much more. Placing your free hand under his chin, you tilt his head upwards so he peers into your eyes, the contact lenses and his cheeky grin causing another flip in your stomach.

“We don’t have to hide our moans anymore,” you tell him. “Not in our home.”

“I think you only enjoy me losing control,” Seunghyun retorts, closing the space to kiss you quickly. His eyebrows quirk up as you tease the head of his erection between your clit and your entrance. “I’ll moan for you, my good girl,” he whispers. “I’ll do anything for you.”

You get lost in the way he speaks to you, his voice deep and sincere, but vulnerable. Your mind wanders to the question of how you got so lucky to be in Seunghyun’s life, in his home, in his bed. Now that you have him, you can’t imagine your life without him.

“Hey,” Seunghyun says, saying your name so gently as if he’s worried he’d break it. “Are you okay?” You tune back in, finding his worried gaze on you, waiting for an answer.

“I’m great.”

The worry fades from his face, replaced with a sly smirk that usually precedes something naughty. He maneuvers one of his hands between your thighs, slipping his fingers through your folds, getting them covered in your slick. You whimper softly, his gaze never breaking from yours while he teases your clit.

“I want you to come on my fingers first,” Seunghyun says, making certain that you watch his mouth as he speaks. “I want to feel you dripping down my hand.” You part your lips to respond, but he pushes his index and middle fingers into you slowly. “Mmm, princess,” he whispers, once his fingers are buried inside of you as deep as he can get them. “You’re clenching my fingers so tight.”

Seunghyun begins to pump his fingers into you, slowly at first, while he allows his other hand to start rubbing your clit. You can’t help your hips from moving against his motions, your eyes slipping closed and your head tipping back so you can moan into the air.

“Fuck, Seunghyun, baby,” you whimper, fisting the shoulders of his jacket as you roll your hips into his touch. “I love you.”

“You love me for fingering you?” Seunghyun chuckles, quickening his pace. “I know you’re close. I can feel it.” You nod your head, rolling it forward again so you can look into his eyes. The contacts make his eyes more devious than usual, watching you like he wants to write about what he sees.

His speed increases, the thrusting of his fingers in time with the circular motions on your clit, working you faster towards your orgasm. Your hand trembles as you move to loosen his tie and release the top buttons of his shirt so you can have unobstructed access to his neck. You have to pay him back for that bite he gave you earlier.

As soon as your mouth makes contact with his neck, you lose focus. You know that you’re biting and sucking on his skin, but you’re only aware of the orgasm that is creeping through your body. Your movement feels sloppy, and you can hear Seunghyun say something to you in a deep, raspy voice.

The sensations overload your mind, pushing you closer and closer until finally you reach your climax. You break from Seunghyun’s neck to moan his name between words of praise, your legs trembling to hold your weight.

“Good girl,” Seunghyun encourages, continuing to work you hard and fast to help you through your orgasm. “My good girl.”

When he finally slows to a stop, and pulls his fingers from you, he offers you his hand and you obediently take him by his wrist to slide his fingers into your mouth. You suck on his fingers, maintaining eye contact with him while you clean his digits of the taste of you. As Seunghyun watches your mouth, he uses his free hand to stroke himself. When his movement catches your attention, you start to pump his fingers into your mouth at the same pace that his hand works.

”Jesus,” Seunghyun rasps, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a smirk, mesmerized by you.

When you pull his fingers from your mouth, Seunghyun responds with a disappointed expression, but you lean in to give him a kiss. The kiss was meant to be brief, just a little tease, but when he gets a taste of you on your lips, he presses his free hand to the back of your head to keep you where he wants you.

He kisses you deeply, and you can’t help but moan into his mouth at the way his tongue feels against yours. It feels childish to say but you love kissing him; you could spend the rest of your life kissing him if he’d let you. He kisses like it’s the last time he’ll have the chance to do it, like he’s desperate for your kiss. Sometimes it’s sloppy and messy and needy, but today it’s passionate, pulling small whimpers from you and hums of approval from him.

You’re reluctant to break the kiss, but you need to feel him again, you need more. You press your hands to his shoulders to push him away gently, his lazy, kiss-drunk expression not lost on you but you try your best to ignore it, knowing that he’ll be able to pull you in for more kisses and you wouldn’t object. You can feel his eyes on you as you move from his lap kneeling between his legs instead, finally taking a moment to really appreciate the sight of him.

In this costume, with his tie loose, his cheeks tinged with pink, his hand still stroking himself slowly with his eyes locked into your face, it’s better than anything you ever imagined before. You lean over his lap, pressing your hands against the mattress on either side of his thighs to brace yourself. He takes the hint and guides the head of his cock into your mouth before letting go and allowing you to do what you please.

You twirl your tongue around his tip inside of your mouth before taking him deeper. You bob your head over him slowly, only taking him about halfway into your mouth but hollowing out your cheeks to apply more suction. Seunghyun lets out a small groan, his hands gently grasping your forearms as if he didn’t know where else to put them.

“You always need to feel me in your mouth, don’t you?” Seunghyun mumbles, the smile apparent in his voice. You hum around him, causing him to pull in a breath through his teeth. “Fuck,” he mutters, fingers tightening around your arms.

You start to work faster, allowing him to go deeper and deeper into your mouth until he reaches the back of your throat. His hips lift off of the bed slightly, as if he’s hesitant to move but you hum an affirmation around him, hoping it will coax him to continue.

“You want me to fuck your mouth?” Seunghyun asks, his voice strained, as if he struggles to even speak the words he’s so overcome. You hum again, relaxing your jaw to afford him the space to work.

One of Seunghyun’s hands presses to the base of your head to keep you still while his other hand braces against the mattress. He pulls his knees closer around your body to support his movements as he begins to thrust into your mouth. It’s shallow at first, gentle but he doesn’t maintain the pace long. When he pushes deeper, hitting the back of your throat, he starts to thrust faster and harder, letting out whimpered breaths as he goes.

“Can you—?”

“Mhm,” you affirm, knowing exactly what he wants to do. He groans softly, burying himself as deep as he can in your mouth. You gag around him, swallowing to tease him, which pulls a deeper groan from his chest.

You bring one of your hands between his legs to massage him, knowing how much he loves it. The action catches him by surprise, making him let out a much more vulnerable moan than you have heard from him. He quickly pulls your head away from him and drops his hips back to the bed, both of you breathing hard.

“You’re a little tease,” Seunghyun chuckles, watching you try to regulate your breaths with a smile on your face.

“Sorry, I got carried away,” you reply, stroking your hand over him.

“Climb back up here, princess.”

“You’re overdressed,” you reply. “I want to feel all of you.”

He doesn’t like being completely naked. Across your time together, you can count on one hand the number of times he’s taken off all of his clothes in front of you. A brief flash of uncertainty appears on his face, so you employ the phrase that he frequently tells you.

“It’s just you and I, baby,” you whisper, watching him smile faintly. He cups your jaw, rubbing his thumb across your lips.

“Anything for you.”

Seunghyun stands beside the bed, pulling his tie off first then slipping his jacket from his arms next. You watch the apprehension fade from his face, being replaced with more confidence when he sees how transfixed you are. Once all of his clothes are on the floor, he strokes his hand over his length, sizing you up as he tries to figure out how he wants you.

Still on your knees, you scoot to one side of the bed to allow him to climb back in, laying on his back before he nods for you to climb on. You crawl towards him to straddle one of his thighs, leaning over his body to press gentle kisses to his chest and his neck.

“You already gave me one mark,” he mutters, his hand cradling the back of your head as he feels you sucking on his collarbone. “You want to leave more?”

“No one will see them but us,” you mutter against his skin. He chuckles softly in response, allowing you to continue on your task until you’re satisfied. “There,” you mumble, pressing a kiss to the mark you left.

“All done?” Seunghyun chuckles, attempting to look down at the hickey. You grin, staying on your knees as you press your chest against his, so you can kiss him. “I love you,” he mumbles against your lips, as you share a tender kiss.

“I love you, too.”

You get lost in the kiss, it’s soft and careful, like neither of you want to push. Until you feel his fingers begin to slowly tease his fingers along your slit; you let a delicate moan out against his lips, surprising yourself at just how soft you sound. You can’t take much more teasing at this point, all you can think about is feeling him inside of you.

As though he can sense your desire, Seunghyun takes hold of your bros to help you straddle him fully. You reach between your bodies, guiding him inside of you and settling down onto him, taking him all the way to the hilt.

“You’re so…fucking tight,” Seunghyun grinds out, closing his eyes and dropping his head against the pillow.

It makes you blush, hearing him speak like this; he does enjoy dirty talk but he seldom speaks quite so blunt. You press your hands to his chest, enjoying the feeling of his warm skin for a moment until you press harder to his pecs for support. Seunghyun’s eyes flutter open, finding yours immediately, a smirk on his face.

You rock your hips against him, feeling him as deep as you can with each motion. Seunghyun’s hands grasp your waist, keeping your movements steady. You find yourself fixated on his eyes again, the contacts making his gaze much more mischievous and sexy than you expected. It drives you to increase your pace.

“You’re too much of a tease,” Seunghyun mutters, his hands grabbing the back of your thighs now to keep you still. He begins to thrust upwards, faster and deeper; you gasp in surprise, pressing harder against his chest to support your weight.

“Fuck, baby,” you moan, your arms trembling to try to support your weight. Seunghyun notices and quickly wraps his arms around your torso, pulling you down to kiss you as he thrusts faster.

You rock your hips to meet his quick thrusts, moaning and whimpering into the kiss as you feel your climax approaching. Seunghyun moves to kiss your neck now, mumbling encouragement to you through gritted teeth.

“You’re going to come for me again? I love to feel you squeezing me like this. Fuck, you feel incredible.”

The way his voice sounds, desperate and rumbling in his chest, pushes you to your climax. You dig your nails into his shoulders, moaning against his chest and he keeps thrusting through your orgasm. When you collapse against him, his thrusts slow until they are just shallow pumps, barely pushing past his tip. He rubs your thighs soothingly, kissing the top of your head.

“Good girl,” he whispers. “You always do so good for me.” You kiss his neck over and over, trailing up to his mouth so you can press your lips to his. He laughs softly into the kiss, squeezing your hips hard enough for you to feel how tender they are from his grip already.

You get an idea. Almost every time you’ve had sex with Seunghyun, it’s been missionary or cowgirl. Apart from Valentine’s Day, that is. You plant one more kiss on his lips before climbing off him and crawling towards the foot of the bed. You settle onto your hands and knees, looking back at him expectantly.

“Oh, that’s how you want me, princess?” Seunghyun asks, moving to rest on his knees behind you.

“I know you can get deeper like this,” you say, arching your back to press your backside closer to him.

Seunghyun takes hold of your hip, using his other hand to guide himself into you again. He bottoms out, both of his hands not gripping your hips to keep you from moving until he’s ready.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to feel you come inside of me, baby,” you whine, swaying your hips to grind yourself against him.

“Mmm, you’re getting nasty for me now, princess?” he asks, pinching your side playfully. “You were keeping this hidden from me all this time.”

“You told me you wanted me to be a dirty girl for you if you wore that outfit,” you retort. “The contacts really got to me.” You hear Seunghyun hum appreciatively, before he gives you a sharp slap on your backside. You gasp in surprise, fisting the sheets beneath you.

“I can tell you like that,” he rasps, rubbing where he just spanked. “You’re squeezing so tight right now.”

Realizing that you’re able to move since he’s no longer grabbing your hips, you rock forward, pulling off of him until only his tip is inside of you. You crane your neck to look over your shoulder to see him running a hand through his hair, eyes cutting from between your bodies to your face.

When he sees the look on your face, Seunghyun grabs your waist, pulling you back towards him so he’s buried inside of you again. He keeps you still as he begins to work into you, thrusting hard but slower than you expect. Each pump pushes him deeper than you imagined possible, and you rock against him to meet his thrusts.

You drop down to your elbows, your arms getting too weak to support your weight. Seunghyun’s hands grip your hips more firmly, pulling you back harder than you were able to move. You can hear him panting, still stifling his moans much to your disappointment. Reaching one hand behind you and taking hold of his forearm, you yank him so he bends over you with his chest pressed to your back.

“You know you don’t…fuck,” you stop short when Seunghyun’s hand finds its way between your thighs to rub your clit. He leaves small kisses and bites along your shoulder, chuckling softly, but you reach back again, threading your fingers through his hair so you can tug hard. Now he moans against your skin, his hips giving a sharp thrust. “That sounds so sexy, baby,” you mutter, grinding against his hand as he still teases your clit. “Please don’t hide it.”

“Sexy?” Seunghyun breathes, readjusting his grip on you. “Mmm, you know how much I love hearing you say that.”

Seunghyun places one more kiss on your shoulder before sitting upright again, resuming his thrusts. He wastes no time building his pace again, only giving a few slow pumps before he reaches the same speed as before. Each thrust hits you harder than the last, the sound of your skin slapping echoing through the air, and you can’t help but moan at how good it feels.

When you hear Seunghyun release a moan of his own, his hips briefly losing time, your hands fist the sheets again, taken by how good he sounds. You clench around him just to get another moan from him, this one sounding even better than the last. You become aware of how flushed your skin is, cold and hot at the same time, your desire beginning to overwhelm you.

You maneuver one of your hands between your thighs, rubbing quickly at your clit when you feel your climax approaching. You’re certain Seunghyun won’t be far behind, judging from the frantic pace he has set and his firm grip on your hips. Your moans are unrestricted now, all of your care to keep quiet nonexistent as you moan his name, begging for him not to stop. Seunghyun’s moans, though not quite as loud as yours, vibrate through you, deep and rumbling; you could get off just listening to him moan.

When your climax hits, you feel like it knocks the wind out of you, all of your moans escaping you and leaving you gasping. Seunghyun doesn’t stop, continuing to work into you as he chases his own climax. You try to regain your breath, the waves of your orgasm coursing through you and seeming never ending, but finally you let out a moan of Seunghyun’s name, which seems to drive him to go harder.

“Please come inside of me,” you beg. “Let me feel you come inside of me, baby. You always take such good care of me. Let me feel you.”

“Fuck,” Seunghyun grinds out, his hips starting to stutter as he finally reaches his own climax.

The sensation of him finishing inside of you always feels incredible, you think it’s the best feeling you’ve ever known. The way he groans your name, his voice so deep but still soft, that beautiful desperation you love to hear from him ringing in your ears, it’s a sound you could hear for the rest of your life and never grow tired.

Seunghyun drops onto you, though he tries to brace some of his weight by pressing her hands to the mattress on either side of your body. You reach over your shoulder again, pulling him gently by his hair so you can turn to kiss him softly.

“Let me see you,” you mutter against his lips.

Seunghyun carefully pulls out of you, maneuvering to lay on his side next to you before he helps you roll into his arms, facing him. He cups your jaw, stroking his thumb over your lips while his eyes study your face. You feel overcome with love for him, unlike you have before, all because of him wearing this stupid outfit for you.

“Are you okay?” Seunghyun asks, his voice raspy.

“More than okay. I’ve never loved anyone like I love you, Seunghyun.”

“Hmm, I was just thinking the same thing.” You scoot closer, cuddling against his chest and giving him a tender kiss on the lips. You stare into one another’s eyes for a moment, and you see beyond his contacts, trying to read what he thinks. “Thank you for making me feel the way you see me,” he says after a moment.

“Thank you for letting me.” Seunghyun smiles in return, planting a kiss on the corner of your mouth. “You know,” you begin, trying to hide your smile. “I was thinking of when you asked me to move in with you…and you said we can do this every night. Multiple orgasms every night for the rest of our lives might be too much; I may need a few days of rest in between.” He takes your hand and laces his fingers with yours, studying the way they fit together.

“The rest of our lives,” he says, echoing your words as he rolls onto his back and pulls you gently on top of him. “It still doesn’t sound like enough time with you. I think we have a lot of lost time to make up for, princess.” He kisses your knuckles one at a time, then looks into your eyes. “I don’t think it matters what we do,” he adds. “We can do this every day, we can rest, we can go for walks, we can travel the world. As long as it’s just you and I, that’s more than enough for me.”

#choi seunghyun x reader #x reader #t.o.p x reader #x reader smut

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