#or I’ll make this at a later time when more things come out

[backtothefanfiction]

Hiii!!! Absolutely love your Joaquin fics rn!! Could you write a Joaquin x fem!reader, who has captain marvels powers? Or atleast very similar. Maybe it takes places during the celestial fight during new world order, and maybe also the aftermath?

No Strings Attached | Joaquin Torres x Avenger!reader

Summary; you had an agreement, a simple arrangement, but feelings are always inevitable in these things

Word Count: 2.1k+

Warning: Smut! 18+ Only! PinV, oral (female receiving), a little dirty talk

A/N: So I’m doing the double today. How very efficient of me. Also I recall a wish for the shower scene I wrote the other day to have turned into something spicy so I figured I’d deliver under this ask. Enjoy.

You didn’t have the time or focus for a relationship and neither did Joaquin. You didn’t even live in the same state. But both working with Avengers on Avengers level missions, you often ran into each other and ended up working with one another every few months or so. And on the occasions when that did happen, you both had found a great way to let off a little bit of steam post mission.

The second he found out his latest mission was going to be in your neck of the woods he couldn’t wait. It took all of his concentration to stay focused on the mission at hand and not on finally getting his dick wet later.

He was chasing down the bogey when your voice came through his comms. “Yo Torres, want an assist?”

He shook his head as he smiled to himself. Although it had been his mission, being in your city meant it was only a matter of time before you got involved. “I was beginning to think you weren’t gonna show.” he said as he looked to his right and you pulled alongside him. Where he needed a whole suit and fancy gear to fly, you had cosmic powers that literally blasted you through the air like a rocket.

“What can I say? I was busy,” you threw back.

“Doing what?” he asked.

“Cancelling my plans for the evening,” you smiled at him with a knowing wink.

“Falcon, we’ve got two more missiles incoming,” a controlled male voice cut through the comm link to you both.

“I’ll get these two,” you said, indicating to the ones you were both currently chasing, “you get the other two.”

“Alright.” he agreed before he began to bank left and turn back toward the direction of the other two missiles.

Chasing down missiles was routine for you at this point. You angled your head forward, your arms pushing back to your sides as you put on another burst of speed to catch up to the missile on the right, coming up beneath it. You quickly began to guide it towards the direction of its companion and the two collided in mid air in a firey blast.

“How you doing back there feathers?” You asked through the comms, coming to a stop and hovering mid air as you sought out the flash of green against the blue sky that would indicate where he was.

“They’re splitting off.” he grunted down the comms as he tried to fight with one of the missiles, willing it to change course and drop down into the sea.

“I’m on it.” you said, spotting the stray missile in the distance. You raced for it but realised you weren’t going to make it in time. Instead you stopped and put all your effort into pushing a photon blast towards it, hoping to detonate it before it got too close to the ground. Your body jerked backwards with the force and you waited with baited breath for it to make contact.

3…2…1! Your arm came up to shield your face as you were knocked backwards by the blast but you quickly caught yourself again.

“Is that all of them?” you asked?

There was a pause before the other male voice from before came through the comms to tell you both that Cap had got things back under control on the ground and you could both stand down.

“Just another day at the office, huh?” you said to Joaquin as he came up alongside you again.

“Yeah, just another day at the office.” he agreed.

“At least I don’t have to do the paperwork on this one.” you taunted before you shot him a small salute and began to divert your course and head back home.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

It was nearly 9pm by the time he arrived. You’d been able to eat, tidy up, shower and even catch a couple episodes of the latest tv show you were binging. The second you opened the door to your appartment and let him in, he was on you.

“Is it weird if I say I missed you,” he panted between kisses and you pulled him inside and he kicked the door closed behind him.

“You mean your dick missed me,” you joked as you ripped the open checked button down off of his shoulders and he quickly slipped his arms out of it, not wanting to waste any time.

“Yeah, that too,” he said as his mouth tried to keep up with you as you guided him down the hallway to the open kitchen living room. “Dios mio eres hemosa,” he muttered to himself as you reached to pull your T-shirt up over your head and threw it across the room.

“Look you want to keep talking or do you want to fuck me? Your call Torres.” you panted as you tried to keep things moving along.

He quickly lifted his white T-shirt off over his head and exposed his golden skin to you.

“Someone’s been working out,” you commented as you took in his abs.

“Now who’s talking,” he grinned as he quickly closed the gap between you again, his hands threading into the hair behind your heads as he smashed his lips back into yours.

You couldn't help but moan against his lips as you felt him push his body up against you, his dick already growing hard and pushing against the zipper of his jeans. You both almost tripped over the arm of the sofa as you blindly tried to move back towards your bedroom, your hands completely lost as they frantically moved across one another’s skin.

“Uhg, fuck this,” he groaned, lifting you by the back of your thighs and slamming your back down into the couch cushions, his fingers scrambling to pull down your sweats and underwear before he dived headfirst between your legs.

You immediately began to whimper as his tongue carded through your folds, flicking hungrily at your sensitive clit. Your fingers tangled into his hair encouragingly as you tipped your head back, your eyes closing as you focused only on the feeling of his tongue against your cunt.

“Oh Joaquin, fuck,” you panted as you felt your muscles already beginning to tingle and grow tight.

He hummed happily into your pussy as he ate you out, your praise and whimpers like music to his ears as you squirmed beneath him. He was leaning over the arm of the chair to be at the right angle and he reached to undo the button and zipper on his jeans to alleviate some of the pressure from his erection, shifting his junk in his pants before he moved that hand back up towards your entrance. His slid two fingers inside you with ease, the tips of them curling in a come hither motion that had you practically writhing beneath him, desperate for release.

“Come on baby, just let go. Vamos bebe, dámelo.” he said huskily and you practically screamed as your climax took over you, soaking his fingers and tongue.

“Ahí está. Esa es mi chica.” His words always made you delirious. Always left you in a haze. And for just a little time you could imagine and play pretend. For those couple hours you were with him, you were his girl. And he was yours.

You quickly pushed him back off you so you could slam your mouth against his again, your tongue lapping your juices from his lips.

“God, you’re a fucking dream,” he praised and once again his words went straight to your head.

“Where do you want to do it? Here, or in the bedroom?” you asked him.

“How about here, then in the bedroom. Then in the shower, on the kitchen counter,” he listed off as your lips began to mark a hungry trail down the side of his neck, your hand moving to palm at his length as he fought to rid himself of his jeans.

“Sounds like a plan,” you panted, wanting to make the most of the limited time you had together, “How long do we have?”

“My flight leaves at 8am.” he said.

“Then, I guess we best get moving then,” you encouraged him.

“You still on the-“

“Yep,” you quickly responded, desperate to finally feel him inside you again after months of just playing with yourself and your magic wand.

“And you haven’t?”

“Nope.” You replied just as quickly. He always asked the same questions just to check in on the off chance anything had changed, but there was no one else other than Joaquin. That’s why you had started sleeping with him in the first place. No strings. No complications. Just really good sex. “What about you? Have you?”

“No.” he quickly said, but there was a flash of something in his eyes that said there was more to that answer than he really wanted you to know. “Okay, enough talking,” he panted as he grabbed your legs and pulled you closer to the end of the sofa, tilting you up at just the right angle and lining himself up, before teasing his way inside. You both let out a deep moan as he began to fill you up, your mouth hanging open as his brow furrowed in concentration, not wanting to blow his load before he had even begun.

You were always so wet for him. So warm and welcoming. Fucking you felt like coming home and that scared Joaquin. No strings, that was what you both agreed, but he knew he was failing. Knew every time he saw you, every time you hooked up, he grew a little more attached to you. He’d wake the next morning and struggle to leave. He’d lay awake after a long day back home, just wondering what you were doing. If you thought of him in the same way. Sometimes he even thought about just buying a plane ticket and showing up on your door. Not even to have sex, but just watch tv and cuddle up on your sofa. To hear you laugh. To be with you when you wanted to cry.

“Oh shit,” he grunted as he continued to thrust into you, the realisation hitting him as his eyes locked onto yours, He was completely and utterly in love with you and he knew all it would take would be one more orgasm together and he would be completely and utterly yours.

You saw how the look on his face changed. You knew exactly what it meant too. “Say it,” you said to him as his eyes moved from your face to where your two bodies met, willing himself to make it less personal again. If he just focussed on that angle he could pretend he was watching porn. Detach himself from the act just long enough to get through this.

“Say it,” you demanded, but he shook his head. “Joaquin!” you said firmly, forcing him to look into your eyes again. “Say it,” you said again more softly and that’s when he saw it. The same feeling reflected in your eyes.

“I love you,” he said.

“Fuck,” you squeaked as he hit that sensitive spot inside you just right, “I love you too,” you panted, finally allowing yourself to admit to yourself and him what you’d known for a while now. “I love you too.” You breathed.

He practically growled in hunger at your words, his hips picking up pace as he became desperate to make you cum again. His girl. His only one. His thumb reached to rub circles over your clit. He knew he couldn’t last much longer, especially with the way you were looking at him and he needed you to finish with him. “Vamos baby,” he began to encourage his words husky, “necesito que te corras para mí.”

Your body began to tense under his ministration, your muscles bearing down in anticipation. You could see the concentration on his face, the effort to not blow his load just yet. Not before he had made you cum one more time this round.

You moved your fingers down to circle your clit, replacing his own fingers to speed the process along just that little bit quicker. “That’s it baby, so beautiful. That’s my girl,” he encouraged until you were able to let go.

Your orgasm hit you like a truck, your fingers reaching to grip tightly onto his biceps and ground you as he continued to pump himself into your sensitive cunt once, twice, three times more until he stilled, his chest heaving as his body fell forward. His arms just about caught him, propping himself up before he collapsed on you completely as he filled you up.

You sighed as you breathed heavily and tried to regulate yourself. “Uhhhgg, so much for no strings attached.” you finally said when you didn’t feel like your heart was going to lurch out of your chest anymore.

“Yeah,” he chuckled and agreed, his head turning so he could look you in the eyes once again. “So much for no strings attached.” he repeated, before you both began to laugh.

[pukefactory]

⫘⫘⫘⟢ SUPPRESSING FIRE ⟢⫘⫘⫘

！ Summary: Caregiver Burning Spice Cookie X Little Reader Headcannons

！ Character(s): Burning Spice Cookie (Cookie Run Kingdom)

！ Genre: Headcannons, SFW, Agere

！ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

！ Image Credits: @theleverethiding

⚡︎ His hands, capable of razing kingdoms, cradle you with an impossible tenderness—firm yet reassuring in their strength. Despite his destructive nature, Burning Spice Cookie is fiercely protective of you. His grip is steady when you cling to him, his warmth enveloping, his voice low and gruff as he murmurs, “In the end, everything turns to dust, but not us. I’ll keep you safe.”

⚡︎ You whimper in the dark, small and afraid. The embers of his flames cast flickering shadows along the walls, restless and alive. “There is no need to fear,” he rumbles, shifting so his warmth surrounds you. A low hum escapes him—ancient, steady, a melody lost to time. It resonates in his chest, reverberating gently off the walls as he murmurs words you do not recognize yet find strangely soothing. Wrapped in the arms of destruction itself, you drift into sleep, safe and warm.

⚡︎ He wields his colossal axe with ease, his devastation swift and absolute. Yet, when he adjusts your clothes with massive, careful fingers, his touch is as light as a whisper. “There,” he grunts, satisfied. You beam up at him. The Great Destroyer scoffs, though his fire burns a shade warmer before a large hand ruffles your hair.

⚡︎ A warrior’s den should be adorned with the spoils of war, but his is strewn with plushies, rattles, and soft blankets. The first time one of his generals entered and saw you nestled in a pile of stuffed animals, they braced for his fury. Instead, he merely ignored their presence, picked up a large, fluffy tiger plush, and placed it beside you, a ghost of a smile tugging at his wicked grin. “Hah! Now he will guard you when I’m busy turning up the heat!” That tiger plush quickly became your favorite.

⚡︎ His people tremble when he storms through the halls, fire licking at his heels. Yet, when he sees you standing there, arms outstretched, the flames quell. He grumbles but lifts you effortlessly, holding you close. “You are bold to make such demands of me, little one.” And yet, he carries you in his arms for the rest of the day, that single remark the only complaint he utters.

⚡︎ A passing Cookie sneers at your childish garb—the sippy cup, the pacifier. “Pathetic.” Before they can blink, Burning Spice Cookie looms over them, flames curling up his arms. “Say that again,” he growls, voice low and dangerous. The Cookie flees. Later, he kneels beside you, placing your fallen flame-shaped pacifier back in your hands. He seems more upset than you, but his tension eases when you lean your head against his side.

⚡︎ Tantrums mean nothing to him. You kick, wail, pound tiny fists against his chest—he does not budge. “Haha! Is that all you’ve got?” he teases, amused. But when you sniffle, rubbing at your tear-streaked face, he sighs. Lifting you onto his shoulders, he rumbles, “Come. We will find something for you to truly destroy.” He does not say he means himself, but his excitement at teaching you destruction is unmistakable.

⚡︎ His body radiates an ever-present heat. On cold nights, you burrow against him, seeking warmth. “Clingy thing…” he huffs, yet he shifts closer, his massive frame blocking out the chill and surrounding you in gentle heat. In the morning, you wake to find your favorite tiger plush nestled beside you, a red fluffy blanket draped over you. He does not mention it, and neither do you, simply holding the plush close.

⚡︎ Before battle, he marks his body with crimson streaks, sigils of war and violence. Yet, as he grips his parashu, ready to leave, he abruptly pauses. Your small hands reach for him, and he kneels, allowing you to press a sticker—a simple tiger, much like your plush—onto his spiked shoulder armor. “He wants to watch over you!” you say excitedly. He snorts. “Then he and I shall have many tales of destruction to share when I return.” He does not remove it. When he comes back, the sticker remains, untouched by battle.

⚡︎ He has burned civilizations, crushed empires beneath his heel. Yet here he kneels, letting your tiny hands press against his cheeks. “Be gentle,” you murmur, worried about the rage in his eyes. He closes them, exhales slowly, faint wisps of smoke curling from his nostrils like a sleeping dragon. “For you,” he rumbles, “I will try.”

[vaguely-concerned]

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

[buckleyflower]

93 please ☺️❤️

93. “Where would I even go?”

Eddie left in his truck with that stupid, stupid U-haul that will haunt Buck’s sleep for the foreseeable future at least three hours ago, and Buck can’t bring himself to leave Eddie’s house.

He shouldn’t have come inside in the first place, but then he went to get the car keys from his pocket and touched Eddie’s house key, the one that Eddie gave him for emergencies, and thought that, well, this is an emergency.

He is already missing his best friend, the best friend he is in love with, and who… probably is the other half of his heart (and not because half of his heart is his— the other half of his heart is Christopher).

So he sits on the couch where he has spent countless nights on and wishes that life didn’t suck. Because this is it, right? This is his life, and it sucks. And it will always, always hurt. Everyone leaves him and he has learned to live with that.

Except that he doesn’t think he will ever learn to live without Eddie, he doesn’t think he knows how to exist without Eddie, and he doesn’t want to learn to, he doesn’t want Eddie to be one more thing he has to learn to do without.

So he goes inside and falls asleep on that couch, eventually, between exhaustion and a few tears, and prays that when he opens his eyes next, Eddie will be there to offer him a beer.

So hours go by and he is still sleeping, only to be waken up by the shrill sound of his ringtone about three hours later. He should have put his phone somewhere else than right beside his head, actually. But he just fell asleep while scrolling through his photo gallery. It’s not his fault.

The screen lights up with Eddie. His name, his photo, his— voice, eventually.

“Eddie?” He slurs, rubbing his eyes in the process.

“Buck, where are you?”

Eddie sounds frantic, breathless like he’s run a marathon or through three flights of stairs, Buck doesn’t exactly know. He knows that his own heart is beating like crazy.

“I— I’m on—” fuck, how does he say this without sounding crazy? “I’m on your couch,” he blurts out. Then, “No, I mean, it was— well, if you actually move then—”

“Buck!”

“Sorry, sorry, I’m at your place, why?”

Buck couldn’t catch a full breath even if he begged his lungs. He goes with the flow. He tries to think of the most rational option. “Did you forget anything?”

“Did I— yes, fuck, don’t move, I’ll be right there.”

He is so confused. What could Eddie have possibly forgotten that guaranteed him coming back in such a hurry?

He waits and waits and waits and remains as still as humanly possible on Eddie’s couch, moving only when he hears the sound of a car pulling up.

Then he checks the time. Where has Eddie been for the past three hours?

“He— hey,” he stutters when Eddie opens the door with his key and approaches him.

“Buck.”

Eddie looks a little bit crazy, to be honest. His hair is a bit disheveled and there are some drops of rain on his chest. He stands there without moving or talking for so long that Buck fears it’s a trick of his own mind. Until he moves and crashes into Buck so violently that Buck has to take a few steps back to stabilize himself, before catching up and hugging Eddie back.

He was missing his best friend merely minutes ago and now he is holding him like his life depends on it.

“Eddie?” Buck curiously asks, while his heart still beats like a jackhammer.

Eddie, in response, buries his face in Buck’s neck and inhales, as if this was the first time he has breathed in ages.

Buck feels a shiver down his spine. This has never happened, he has never felt the ghost of Eddie’s lips on his own neck and this is fucking unfair because Eddie will leave again and he will— wait, why has Eddie come back? To hug him a bit tighter before he leaves?

“E— Eddie, what did you,” he swallows down a lump in his throat, “forget?”

And that makes Eddie pull back, and Buck expects the moment to be over, this hug to become yet another memory he’ll cling to for the rest of time (he knows he’s a bit dramatic, yeah), but Eddie takes his face in his hands and Buck gulps so hard his throat hurts.

“Ed—” he can only mumble before Eddie presses their lips together.

It’s so much of a shock to Buck’s system that he doesn’t realize what’s happening at first. He stays as rigid as a block of steel.

Then, when Eddie is about to pull away, he drags him closer, one hand behind Eddie’s head and the other one behind his back, wishing he could fuse them together. And he kisses Eddie back, and it lasts barely ten seconds before the gentle pecks on Eddie’s lower lips turn into a full make-out session, desperate and hungry against the front door of Eddie’s house.

Buck can’t believe that this is happening, that this, too, is his life. So when they eventually have to pull away, he can’t help himself.

“Eddie, I— uh, what—” he stammers, but Eddie just shakes his head and kisses him again.

“I was— I was— I think I was halfway to Arizona.”

Eddie is shaking, Buck realizes. So he takes Eddie’s hands and squeezes them. “It’s okay,” he promises. “What’s wrong?”

“There was—” Eddie tries. “The radio— it was— it was, uh— there was that station you always wanna listen to and I hate that and—”

“Eddie.”

“I love you, Buck, okay? And I— I don’t want to listen to any other radio station, and I don’t want to go to Texas and I don’t want to miss you,” Eddie finally manages to say.

Then he gets their foreheads to touch, taking Buck’s face in his hands again, and sees Buck’s misty eyes.

“Where would I even go without you, Buck?” He whispers, weirdly steady for someone who’s about to change his life forever.

“I don’t wanna live without you, okay? I— I’m sorry but—”

Buck cuts him off with the best kiss of Eddie’s life. “I love you so much, so much,” he cries, before hugging Eddie’s middle and hiding his face in the crook of Eddie’s neck.

“I’ve already called my parents,” sometime later Eddie says. “Told them we’re gonna pick Chris up soon…” he mumbles in Buck’s ear. “That okay?”

Buck can only nod in response, partly because he can’t even get his brain to formulate a coherent sentence, partly because why would he not be okay with that? He gets to have his heart back in one place again.

Life is great.

—

(Eddie was at Buck’s place but Buck was at his) Hope you like it. Thanks💓

[dismalflo]

A knock on the head

rugby player!james potter x reader where james gets injured at training ✩ 1.1k words

cw; very mild nondescript head injury, fluff, comfort

James Potter can only be described in one way: a busybody. He's always on the go. Saturday is reserved for rugby matches, Tuesday and Thursday are for training sessions, and every other day, he's at the gym. In between, he makes time to see his friends and family, he makes time for you. 

All of this means you spend many of your evenings at home, curled up on the sofa, waiting for your boyfriend to walk through the door. You don’t know how he manages it all—you're exhausted just watching him. 

Tonight, however, he’s later than usual. You’d be worried if training didn’t run over so often. He’s always trying to squeeze in one more drill. Sat in the warm glow of the living room, the remnants of dinner abandoned on the coffee table, you’re on the verge of drifting off to sleep.

Until your phone lights up and starts to ring, it's James. 

"Hello?" you answer groggily, barely able to keep your eyes open. In the background, you hear the low hum of indistinct chatter.

“Hi angel, how are you?” 

You blink, confused. "I'm alright. Are you okay?" It’s rare for him to call during training.. 

"Listen, I don’t want you to worry…" His pause makes your heart skip a beat. Immediately, your mind races through all the worst-case scenarios. Oh god, he's broken something.

"What’s happened?" you ask, your voice tight with concern

"Do you think you could come and pick me up? I had a knock on the head, and the physio says I shouldn’t drive." His voice is sheepish, almost apologetic.

It takes you a second to catch up, “yeah–yes of course I can, are you sure you're alright?”, you're darting over to the shoe rack, desperate to get to the poor boy as quickly as possible.

“"I’ll be fine, don't rush, sweetheart," he murmurs, but you hear the fatigue in his tone.

“Okay, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Love you.” You don’t try to hide the worry in your voice now. James is only this subdued when he's hurt and feeling sorry for himself.

"I love you too." His words are soft, and with that, you’re out the door and into your car.

The drive to the rugby field feels like it takes ages. The streets blur past in a haze as your thoughts race. You can barely focus on anything other than James—his voice, soft and apologetic, still ringing in your ears. The thought of him hurting makes your chest tighten.

When you finally arrive, you spot him almost immediately, standing near the locker room, looking a little unsteady on his feet. Your heart sinks seeing him like this, his usual energy dimmed by whatever had happened.

His tousled hair is messy, and there’s a slight pallor to his face that you don’t like. When he hears your footsteps, he turns, giving you a weak smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

"Hey, angel," he greets softly, his usual charm absent.

You stop in front of him, taking a deep breath. "James," you murmur, gently cupping his face with both hands, looking him over. "Are you sure you're okay?" You reach up, brushing his hair back from his forehead, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your fingers.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Physio says it's just a little knock, nothing serious," he reassures you, and if it weren’t for that paleness you’d probably believe nothing was wrong with him at all. 

You wrap an arm around his waist, offering him your support. "Come on, let's get you home."

The drive back to your flat is quieter than usual, James staring out the window with a faraway look, lost in his own thoughts. That's all the proof that you need to tell he’s hurting, and you'll strong arm him, if you have to, into letting you look after him.

Once you're back at the flat, you help James inside. His steps are slow, almost reluctant, and it tugs at your heart to see him so unlike his usual energetic self.

The moment the door closes behind you, you begin to guide him to the bathroom. You’re already thinking of the things you can do to make him feel better—some comfort food, maybe a cozy blanket, and a cup of tea, but that will have to wait.

“Okay,” you say, your voice soft but firm, “You’re going to get into the bath, and I’m going to get you anything you want or need.”

James raises his brow at that, a suggestive smirk taking over his features, and you catch what he’s thinking straight away.

“Not like that,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “you perv.” shaking your head, you turn to start running the bath. James barks a laugh at your indignance, that you're sure he regrets as a wince covers his features in quick succession afterwards.

“Alright, alright,” he says, his tone still a little weak but the playful glint never quite leaving his eyes. “But a bath’s a good idea, I guess. You’re always right, aren’t you?”

“I’d say you should be used to that by now, Jamie” You smile impishly back at him.

His eyes soften, still teasing, when he meets your gaze. “You know, I think I might be in love with you.”

You roll your eyes, though your smile betrays your amusement. “Of course you are. Now get in the bath, before I really start bossing you around.”

He chuckles, but there’s a weariness in his laugh as he finally undresses and carefully eases himself into the warm water. You kneel by the edge of the tub, brushing his hair back from his forehead, inspecting him once more. “Are you sure you’re okay? I’m serious—if you feel worse…”

“Angel,” he interrupts, his voice soft but firm, “I’m fine. I just need to rest for a bit. That’s all.”

You search his eyes, trying to find any sign that he's just putting on a brave face, but there's nothing but sincerity there. You nod slowly, letting out a small sigh, trying to ease the tightness in your chest..

“I’ll make you something to eat,” you say quietly, starting to rise.

James grabs your arm to stop you, “Can you just sit with me for a bit?” and how could you ever say no to your darling boyfriend. 

You sit back down beside the tub, your fingers gently brushing the water’s surface as you watch him. His eyes close for a moment, and his shoulders seem to relax just a little more with each passing second. You’re glad you’re here, even if this moment is a quiet one.

After a while, you glance at him, studying his face. “You’re gonna need something to eat when you get out. What do you fancy? Soup?” 

James opens one eye, giving you a skeptical look. “Can I have a cheese toastie with it?” 

“Yeah, you big baby,” you tease.

He chuckles, closing his eyes again. "Deal. You just... don’t go anywhere, alright?"

You give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I’m not going anywhere.”

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

let me know what you think of this! I appreciate all feedback <3

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

[loveanddeepsecrets]

No love grander than mine

🝮 More fluffy Syslus hcs to flood your TL 🝮

I’ve said it before: There’s really no such a thing as small gestures when it comes to Sylus. Here’s some romantic hcs he’d likely do to spoil you.

⤠ Tags: fluff, established relationship, alcohol tw, Sylus x gn! reader,

⤠ Word count: 365

• Every mission he let’s you join ends with a romantic getaway in a neighbouring city

• Though some may call it cliché, he’s the type to clutter the room with rose petals, candles, balloons and the biggest bouquet to cheer you up on bad days

• Shopping sprees are light work. Online wishlists? Taken care of. The only top you like at the boutique is a size too big? He’ll buy it and schedule a fitting with his tailor. The purse you want has a waitlist? He’ll quietly step forward to show the associate his platinum card that’s under a different alias and you’re magically on the top of the list

• Even better, he takes note of the sold out vintage pieces you saved on a few reseller apps and uses his network to get everything you weren’t able to bid for

• Fine dining. You eat at Michelin restaurants, pâtisseries, or have professionally home cooked meals— no in between

• Treats you to champagne and dessert on his yacht to end the night on your birthday. You later come to find out you’re at the very spot you first saw fireworks with him (Nightplumes) and soon enough, a light show of your own appears

• Persistently accommodates to your living preferences when you stay at his place. He makes note to adjust to things like room temperature, food brands, thread count sheets, home fragrances, etc bc he wants you to associate familiarity and a sense of home with him

• Helicopter tours that eventually lead to a private island seaside dinner— or rooftop dinner

• Private concerts booking some of your fav artists

• Horseback riding along the sunset beach for a late picnic

• Buying out restaurants, salons and movie theaters to truly have alone time with you

• On every anniversary, he (privately) publishes a small book of sonnets and poems from his collection that remind him of you

• Premeditated vacations at wine cities to pigéage and find the perfect wine & champagne you both like. Though he’s not a complete wine snob, he knows every good bottle has a story. And taking his soon to be fiancé to make/test the wine served at their wedding would make quite the story, no?

ꨄ︎ A/N: Thanks as always for reading the whole way through! I know his love is beyond the materials. At its core, these grand gestures are an elaborate way to spend time together. I’m just pushing myself to write more. I’ll have to come back to the pure, non-flashy ways he’d express love, bc he’s so incredibly sweet. I just need to get into the habit of writing more and taking the L’s as they come.

⤠ Additional fic dividers by @/Saradika-graphics!

[uluvjay]

Risky Business-K. Guhle

Kaiden Guhle x Fem! Xhekaj reader

In which you calling Kaiden to pick you when your friends ditch you turns into more then you could’ve ever expected..

Warnings?; SMUT, protected sex, pretty much public sex, bar scene, kissing, cursing, reader has shit friends, brothers best friend!, mentions of anxiety and getting caught, sorry if I missed any errors!!

Kaiden wasn’t to surprised to see your name pop up on his screen, you two were friends because of your brother but you didn’t text all that often.

But when he saw what you were asking he truly had no surprise in his body as he read the words that your friends had left you and you were drunk and alone at the bar.

He already had your location from the last time he had to pick you up from the club when your friends abandoned you so he sent a quick ‘Omw’ and was out the door.

Pulling up to the bar fifteen minutes he was lucky to find a close parking spot before hopping out and making his way inside.

His eyes instantly found your body sitting at the bar your hair curled just the way he liked with that little dress hugging your body.

Hearing the stool next to you pull out your head shot up a look of relief filling your face at the sight of Kaiden.

“What happened birthday girl? Where are all your friends.” He asked softly.

You took a moment to look over his appearance, it was clear he’d been lounging around his apartment by the hoodie and joggers he sported, he didn’t have a hat on for once letting his blonde hair fall freely over his forehead.

he looked so pretty

“They left me..again” you mumbled staring down at your drink pitifully.

You heard him order a glass of whiskey before he replied, “Where’d they go this time?”

Sadly this wasn’t the first time your so called friends had left you on a night out only this time it happened to be your birthday celebration.

Typically they’d find hot guys and it wouldn’t take long for them to be dishing you a goodbye and following them out the door and into the back of an Uber.

The first few times it happened you called your older brother to come and get you but after the third time and a scolding you knew it was better not to.

So that’s where Kaiden came in, he was close to Arber so he was close to you. He always seemed to be around and you would be lying if you said you didn’t have a crush on the defenseman.

So when your brother said if he had to rescue you from an abandoned night one more time then he’d take your phone and block your so called friends you started calling Kaiden and he always came.

“Same as always, some guys were flirting with them and they went home with them.” You shrugged finally giving him your eyes.

“But it’s your birthday, they left just like that?” He questioned.

“Their excuse was that my actual birthday isn’t till tomorrow and they’d make sure to make it up to me.” You laughed at their pathetic excuse.

Kaiden shook his head at your words, he hated how they treated you but it wasn’t his place to tell you what to do or who to be friends with.

Only thing he could do was try to make the rest of the night fun for you and that’s what he planned on doing.

Checking his watch he saw it was 11pm on the dot, meaning he had an hour to make sure you started your birthday off right.

“Come on, let’s go play a round of pool” he spoke as he stood up holding a hand out for you.

“I don’t know how to play.” You laughed.

“I’ll teach you.” He shrugged before downing the rest of his drink and ordering a beer for himself and a Shirley temple for you.

Twenty minutes later Kaiden found out you weren’t lying when you said you were bad, the table was scratched from your endless misses and he could see the frustration growing on your face.

No matter how many tips or tricks he offered they weren’t helping, you still couldn’t get a good grip on the pool stick and your aim was awful.

“Here, let me show you.” He laughed setting his drink down and moving behind you.

His hand stilled as he reached for the stick, should he get this close? Were you okay with him getting this close?

“If you don’t mind.” He added nervously.

“I don’t mind, I need all the help I get. I’m embarrassing myself here.” You huffed in reply looking around the somewhat filled bar.

Kaiden took a step closer, chest pressed up against your back as he instructed you to grab the pool stick.

“Okay you need to bend yourself at an angle, wanna be able to see the ball and where you’re aiming.” He spoke softly.

You did as he said bending over so you were closer to the table but from the soft laugh behind you something told you that you were still wrong.

“No, like this.”

Kaiden didn’t think about it when his hands pulled at your hips, pulling you back slightly before pressing your lower back so you weren’t as stiff.

Your breath hitched at the touch, this felt very intimate and you hated how your body tingled from his touch.

What you weren’t ready for was his body to bend with yours, his face inches from your ear as his hand moved up to cup yours on the pool stick.

“Still okay?” He questioned.

“Mhm”

Your brain was jumping at the contact of his calloused hands, his warm body pressed against yours in a way that would send your brother into shock.

“And then you wanna pull ba-Are you even listening?” He chuckled, the sound sending a wave of heat through your body.

He could see the apples of your cheeks tint red at his words, he wasn’t dumb he felt the way your body reacted to his, the little sounds that left your mouth when he pressed up against you.

“Yeah, of course I am” you scoffed but he could hear the nerves in your voice.

“You sure?”

He was closer this time, much closer. Your eyes meeting his as he moved his body up more this time positioning himself next to you.

You couldn’t help the way your eyes traveled from his eyes to his lips, they were temping, light pink and plump begging to be tinted red from your lipstick.

Kaiden caught your eyes and he’d be lying if he said the same thoughts weren’t running through his mind. He was itching to see how you looked with swollen lips and blown out eyes, his hand around your throat as he kissed you like there was no tomorrow.

“Fuck it” he mumbled.

You didn’t get a chance to reply before his lips were on yours, his hands pulling you up and pressing your chest to his. The kiss was filthy, you wasted no time to respond to his desperate movements.

He groaned softly as your fingers tangled into his hair at the nape of his neck, his large hands tight against your waist as your lips moved in tandem.

He finally pulled away when he needed air, both of you panting as your eyes locked and you thought about your actions.

“My brother-“

“Doesn’t have to know.” He finished for you.

Arber not know you just kissed his best friend? Not know that you had feelings for the blonde? The man you lived with who happened to live the floor below Kaiden.

“But-“

“No buts, you always put everyone before yourself and I’m tired of standing back and watching it. Let me show you how important you are, how much you deserve to be loved and taken care of..please.” He cut you off, blue eyes pleading with you to give him a chance.

“Okay..but if he finds out you’re the one that’s dealing with him.” You spoke.

“Deal.” He laughed bringing you in for another kiss this one much hotter then the first, his hands roaming this time running under the hem of your dress cupping your ass.

“We can’t do this here” you shuddered the feeling of his hands had the throb between your thighs growing.

Kaiden knew he wasn’t going to make it home, and while he wasn’t one for public sex he knew he had to have you now.

“Come with me.” He pulled you behind him.

You followed him silently as he walked you two towards the restaurant part of the bar which was now closed at the late hour.

He looked around not seeing a soul in sight he was quick to pull you behind a tall wall, pinning you against the host stand you stood at only a few hours earlier.

“Kaiden! What if someone sees.” You panicked looking around for anyone that could see.

“Baby the restaurant has been closed for hours, nobody is over here anymore we’re okay.” He reassured you, his lips moving to your neck.

“You sure?”

“Positive.” He nodded lips working over your sensitive skin kissing down to the top of your breasts that showed through the top.

You whimpered when he found your sweet spot his mouth sucking on the skin as one of his skilled hands trailed down your body and under your dress.

Your body shuddered at the feeling of his touch, his middle finger running over the lace of your panties before pulling them down.

You stepped out of the material whimpering as he stuffed them into his back pocket, he shot you a cocky wink before he was rolling your dress up giving him a view of your dripping cunt.

“So wet for me baby.” He cooed, fingers running through your folds as he prepped you to take his cock.

“Kaiden” you panted, hands gripping his hoodie for stability as pleasure spread through your body. A hot fire began burning your skin as his continued to work you open.

His lips swallowed yours when he slipped one inside of you, careful to mask your noises so nobody caught on to what was happening if they did happen to overhear.

You shook against him as he pumped his finger in and out, adding a second when he felt you were ready for more of him.

“Please..” you weren’t sure what exactly you were even begging for, you just knew you needed more-more of him.

“Please what baby?”

“Fuck me, please Kaiden. I need it.” You begged him hands reaching for the drawstring of his joggers.

“It is my birthday after all.” You added with a pleading look.

Kaiden picked up his free hand to look at his wrist, the heavy metal read 11:35 meaning you had 25 more minutes before it was really your birthday.

“Still got 25 minutes baby, but you’ve had a bad night so I’ll be nice.” He smirked.

You hated how empty and cold you felt when he removed his fingers and stepped back to grab his wallet from his pocket.

You watched as he pulled out the little gold packet before pulling his pants and boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free.

Your mouth watered at the sight of him, his mushroom head cock red and glistening with precum, you couldn’t help yourself as you reached out to stroke him softly spreading the cum down his shaft.

“Oh fuck” he gulped at the feeling your soft hand wrapping around him.

You took the condom from him stretching the latex over his thick cock watching with need as it hugged him perfectly.

“Turn around pretty girl.” He said, his tone commanding.

You did as he said bracing yourself against the wooden stand waiting for him as he spread your legs and positioned himself.

He didn’t waste anytime, his hips pressing forward as he slid his cock inside you. His strong hands gripping your hips as he got his pace steady.

Fuck he was big

Your hand shot up to cover your mouth as he pulled back and pushed himself into you again, this time bottoming out as his cock hit that sweet spot inside you.

He couldn’t help letting out a quiet moan himself when your body locked up around him, his grip on your hips tightening as he gave both of you a second.

That didn’t last very long before he pulled out again this time setting a fast pace his cock splitting you open as you hung onto the stand for dear life.

You did your absolute best to remain quiet, eyes clenched shut as you put all your focus on not letting the entire place hear how good he was making you feel.

“That’s it baby.” He muttered to himself, “taking it so fucking good.”

Your pussy fluttered at his words, each stroke of his cock was hitting you just right never failing to miss your sweet spot. Every nerve in your body on fire from the way he was fucking you, it was addictive, you were desperate for anything he was willing to give you.

You gasped when one of his arms hooked around you middle, pulling you flush against his chest as his thrusts somehow went even faster.

“Feel good baby?” He hummed in your ear, lips moving down your body in hot wet kisses, teeth nipping your skin in all the right places.

Feel good? It felt fucking amazing, your whole body felt like it was going to explode by the way he fucked you.

“Yes!, god yes. Feels so fucking good.” You whimpered voice barely there your nails dug into the cotton covering his arm as you held on for support.

Kaiden could feel your walls hugging him with each thrust, your orgasm no doubt closing in but he never let up. His thrusts were strong, each stroke more precise than the last.

His pace was punishing as he held you pinned to him, one of his large hands gripping your throat as he turned your face to pull you into a hot kiss.

It was all teeth and tongue, hot and sloppy as he fought you for dominance that you quickly gave up.

Your body was clenching him so tight as the pressure in your lower stomach built, it was all consuming, clouding your brain to the point it was all you could think about.

Him, it was all Kaiden, the way he touched you, kissed you, held you, fucked you.

This was an addiction you’d never come back from and you didn’t mind, not one bit.

“Go ahead baby, come for me. Show me what the birthday girl has been keeping from me.”

And with that your whole body tensed, the band in your lower stomach bursting as you came all over the condom. His hand shot from your throat to cover your mouth as you moaned into the skin at the overwhelming feeling.

His arm around your body tightening to help keep you standing as your legs shook, almost to the point of giving out as he continued to pound into you.

It wasn’t to long after your climax that Kaiden came himself, a deep guttural groan coming from him as he fucked you through his high.

You both panted breathlessly as you came back down to earth, both of your minds clouded with a post sex haze.

He rested you against the host stand as he pulled out of your dripping cunt, pulling the condom off and tying it he was quick to pull his pants up and your dress back down.

He couldn’t help himself when he smirked at your dazed expression when you turned to face him, eyes glossy, cheeks rosy, mascara slightly smeared from the tear tracks that stained your face.

He pulled you in for a kiss, this one much sweeter then any of the other ones you shared so far tonight, his hand cupping your cheek softly.

“Happy birthday pretty girl.” He smiled when he pulled back.

“Best birthday ever.” You cheesed back.

“Yeah?”

“Definitely.” You nodded in confirmation.

Kaiden was happy that he could end your awful night on a good note, happy that you were giving him a chance to show you a love you deserved.

“Wanna go back to mine?” He asked.

“Yes, I need out of these heels.” You groaned.

“Come on, let’s go get you into bed.” He smiled picking you up off your feet and carrying you to his car.

You knew you’d have to tell Arber eventually but right now that wasn’t on your mind, right now the only thing you were thinking about was how lucky you were to have Kaiden in your life.

-

[meyhew]

are we on trial? | a glimpse into the night before andrew testifies

Nausea squeezes his stomach like a noose and Aaron wills the tequila to slide down his throat instead of coming back out. Katelyn’s fingertips scratching soft patterns along his scalp is the only reason he succeeds. 

“You sure you don’t want to sleep?” 

She has asked this too many times now—first when Dan and Matt were still here, then when they left and Aaron picked a movie without looking from Matt’s endless collection, and again when he got up from the couch for more of Matt’s alcohol. On any other night Aaron would tell her to quit it, but tonight he can’t. Tonight the sound of her voice is the one thing keeping him tethered to some semblance of sanity, even if it is to ask the same question again and again. 

Aaron shakes his head in a silent no. He knows what sleep will bring. Red hands and scarred wrists, his brother sitting in a pool of blood, Aaron’s-reflection-Andrew trapped in a mirror touching his temple, the sound of Andrew’s maniacal laughter chasing him out of his own head until he thrashes awake in his bed. He’d rather spend the night wide awake putting poison in his body.

As though sensing where his thoughts have drifted to, Katelyn says, “Have you told him I won’t be there tomorrow?” 

“Not yet. He’s been in a foul mood.” 

They all have, which surprised him. He knows his teammates well enough by now to have expected their indignant anger, but he wasn’t expecting their sadness. Dan’s lack of focus or Allison’s bitchiness toned down—it has all left Aaron a little dazed. Even Neil has curbed his antagonism, though that shouldn’t be a shock considering his very loud opinion about the uselessness of the trial. It doesn’t do much to earn him Aaron’s respect, but for once at least their resentment isn’t directed at each other. Their glum faces are an unexpected balm, though Aaron would sooner slit his throat than admit it to them.  

Katelyn pries the bottle of tequila from his hand and puts it a safe distance away. She turns the TV off and the remote disappears somewhere in the now-dark room. 

“Any more, and you’ll be throwing up all morning,” she says, not unkindly. 

Aaron sighs. He knows she’s right; he bulldozed past his safe limits an hour ago. The couch they’re on is small, but making it to the bed right now seems impossible. He turns his face towards her and Katelyn welcomes his weight. There are moments when disbelief takes over rational thought, this being among them. How is this real for him? How does he get to have her? It feels to good to be true, like one of these days she’s going to realize how fucked up he is, how fucked up his life is, and she’s going to walk away from him like she should have months ago. Instead, she’s there everyday, an unwavering presence by his side. 

He kisses her exposed collarbone and Katelyn presses a hand to the back of his head, holding him close to her. Not that she needs to. Not that he wants to be anywhere but here. 

“I can come by the courthouse at the end,” Katelyn murmurs. “If you want me to, obviously. Go somewhere.” 

As tempting as the idea is, he knows it’s a bad one. Maria and Luther will be there. That cop from Oakland will be there. Andrew’s would-be mother will be there, the one Aaron shut the door on. The ghost of his own mother lingering in different bodies. He doesn’t want Katelyn to have to see them, not until she must. 

Are you protecting her or Andrew? 

“I’ll find you afterwards.” 

She doesn’t take offense to his rejection and Aaron loves her more than he did a moment ago. “Do you want to talk to him?” 

him him him him him

“He’s probably asleep.” Even as he says it, he knows it’s not true. And, really, what’s there to say? 

“You won’t know unless you try.” She fishes around for something and a moment later offers him his phone. 

Aaron shakes his head. 

Katelyn gently pushes him back. “Well, go. I’ll be right here.” 

For a moment that stretches out indefinitely, they gaze at each other with something unsaid hovering in the air between them. Then Aaron leans in for a kiss, a tether, and Katelyn opens her mouth to him without hesitation. Her hand is warm on his cheek when she shoves him lightly. 

“Baby, go.” 

Aaron’s legs feel leaden as he trudges out of his room and towards his brother’s. He bypasses the lock for the keys in his pocket. Andrew didn’t want Aaron to have a spare and Neil didn’t see the point, but Aaron had insisted. He couldn’t bring himself to say the words that had been clawing at his insides. Sometimes he still gets stuck in his useless body in that house in Columbia, locked out of a room his brother was bleeding in, laughing at his own pain. He knows it won’t happen again—it can’t happen again—yet the disconnect between his heart and his brain is unbearable. The words died within him, but it didn’t matter. Andrew understood his silent plea demand and dropped a key on his open textbook one afternoon. 

They have never talked about it and Aaron has never used the key. 

Now he pushes the door open to find Andrew sitting in the window. It’s such a familiar sight it draws Aaron up short. 

Andrew has to testify tomorrow—today—and he’s sitting cross-legged in the window with a cigarette dangling from his lips. He doesn’t turn at the sound of the door opening, doesn’t give any indication he even noticed it, and Aaron doesn’t need him to. He stands there without saying anything and Andrew keeps smoking. 

Is that how miserable I look right now? Aaron wonders. 

Andrew looks the same as he always does, or so it seems; the line of his spine is rigid, a light trembling to his hands Aaron can spot even from the doorway. His brother is not a person who shakes. 

“Stay or go,” comes Andrew’s voice. 

Aaron closes the door behind him and crosses his old room towards the window. He hops up to squeeze on the sill across from Andrew. 

“Where’s Neil?” 

Andrew doesn’t look his way. “Sleeping.” 

“So why aren’t you?” 

Eyes the same as Aaron’s slide his way. The fear, the rage, the irritation that’s been bubbling up underneath Aaron’s skin is nowhere to be seen in Andrew’s bored gaze. Aaron ignores his silent why aren’t you? and grabs the pack of cigarettes at Andrew’s knees. He waits for a warning, a hand to snatch it back from him, but nothing comes. Andrew lets him have his way and Aaron pushes a stick between his lips. 

Almost-reflections. Like looking at himself in clear lake water: a distorted, blurry, almost-image of himself. Where Aaron is wearing a white Palmetto crewneck, Andrew is in his signature all black getup, arm bands and all. Even now, even here. Not that Aaron wants to see the mangled skin on his twin’s arms. Every time he remembers it, he thinks, that could’ve been me. He saved me from ending up like him. 

He wonders if Andrew gets them, too. The bad dreams. It seems unlikely for his shield of a brother to be haunted in his dreams, but they are too alike. Case in point: sitting here speeding up their death instead of preparing for the reckoning tomorrow. Aaron really should stop smoking. It’s not a good look for him, but it’s an easy crutch. And it’s the only way he can sit with Andrew. 

“Katelyn’s not going to be there tomorrow,” he says. 

Andrew cuts him a vicious look. “She is not doing me a kindness. I do not need it.”  

“Jesus, Andrew. Who, then, if not you?” 

“The intricacies of her psyche are not my problem.”

“You could say thank you.” 

“Fuck you.” 

They don’t thank each other. Why should they? His blood is his blood is his blood. Sometimes Aaron wonders if they were put together in the hospital, the way many twins are paired up for skin to skin. Because they’re not used to being alone. Because they naturally reach out for each other. Because being pressed up chest to chest releases oxytocin. Did he and Andrew have that? Or were they separated before they even got to know each other’s smell? He wonders if that’s why there’s sometimes this empty pocket inside of him where nothing else seems to fit. 

He wants to ask what Andrew will say tomorrow. So many versions of the truth and only one that will matter to people: Aaron killed a man. Wouldn’t matter to them that his brother was lying on a bed with his pants at his ankles, blood streaming from his face. Wouldn’t matter to them that Andrew never asked for any of it. He was Andrew Minyard and they already knew the kind of man he was. Of course his brother would be the same. Of course they’re both the same. 

Aaron doesn’t ask. They don’t speak at all. But it helps Aaron to know that Andrew can’t sleep either. 

[was-that-a-pun]

Fleshin out more background characters in my AU fic for later chapters like I have with Medic and Thomas and a recent cut content video gave me ideas for Scout the boogie bot and Izzy the bobby bearhug

Scout I've decided was an older kid in Playcare and was a close friend with Matthew before he was 'chosen'. They were similar ages, though Scout had been there longer and had lost her parents in a car accident she wasn't part of. It gave her a slightly better idea of what he was going through than most other kids did and tended to play backup to his leader role.

Neither ran into Kevin much just by chance, the little they did see of him he seemed fine to them although Matthew caught some other kids setting him up to get in trouble once and put a stop to it.

After Matthew was taken Izzy arrived, probably younger than Jack when she got there, and instantly clung to Scout as big sister. Scout returned in kind and goes out of her way to care for and dote on her.

Scout though was also 'chosen' a little more than a year after Matthew and Kevin were, Izzy had a hard time in Playcare for the few months before she was as 'chosen' as well because she couldn't connect with anyone else the same way.

Scout and Izzy are dumped into the workyard/general population at the same time and Izzy does not handle things well. Scout would know that sobbing anywhere and scrambles to comfort her and convince her of who she is and that Izzy isn't alone. Doey overhears and oh shit this is one of my friends.

They all end up in trouble/punished because Izzy can't calm down enough to work, Scout wont leave her side, and Doey wont let the guards touch either one of them. But afterwards it makes things a little easier because Matthew knows he can trust scout, which means Jack and Kevin learn to trust her and she becomes one of the main people he talk to about the whole confusing experience of being three kids turned into one.

Cut content lines under the readmore that inspired me

Scout: Izzy, have you done what I asked you to? Gathered all your things?

Izzy: Oh, yeah! I’ve got my journal and my crayons and my dollys and my-

Scout: Good. Good I just wanted to make sure

Izzy: You. Y-you sound sad -

Scout: No! No. Just thinking…

Izzy: Thinking about what?

Scout: About everything to come, about our part in it.

Izzy: Oh...okay. Are we still gonna play our game later? Y-you promised we would-

Scout: *chuckles* I remember kiddo, and a good scout knows to keep her promises.

Izzy: Yes!

Scout: But finish up your tasks first please! Then my time is all yours.

Izzy: Okay! I’ll get them done quick! Super quick! You wont even see me doing them!

Scout: That better mean they’re actually getting done though *sigh*

[ladyhoneydarlinglove]

{one piece ficlet, usopp & zoro} brave

continuing my 'zoro is actually quite profound and also the bestest first mate ever' series with some usopp & zoro brotp content 😌 nami's is here for anyone interested; my goal is to do one of these for each straw hat member and then compile them into a bigger fic to post on ao3 so stay tuned for more!

Rating: G Notes: post time skip

~~~~~

The Thousand Sunny is about twenty-thousand meters into its descent to Fishman Island, which means the sea around them has turned pitch black save for the occasional colorful display of bioluminescent creatures that dwell within the deep. There’s one happening right now, a giant cloud of something blue and twinkly floating alongside the ship as it continues slowly downward. It reminds Usopp of stars on a clear night, and he’s having fun making up new constellations and stories to go along with them that he’ll tell to Chopper and Luffy later. 

So when Zoro comes by to relieve him from first watch, Usopp smiles and says, “Thanks, but I think I’ll stay a bit."

Zoro grunts, which Usopp takes to mean ‘suit yourself’. He settles against the railing next to the sniper, and for a long while, they stand there together in companionable silence. Usopp got better about that, in the two years he was away; sits better inside awkward spaces, doesn’t feel quite such an oppressive need to fill the quiet with babbled nonsense. So for perhaps the first time in their friendship, it’s Zoro who breaks the ice first.

“So. Plants, huh?” he says. It’s stilted and awkward and so terribly Zoro that Usopp can’t help but laugh.

“Plants,” he confirms with a solemn nod, happy when he sees Zoro’s lips twitch.

“What happened to working with dials?”

“Oh, I have those too!” Usopp says brightly, pulling an impact dial out of his belt for demonstration. “But they’re harder to find replacements for down here in the blue sea. The plants are easier because I can regrow them myself.”

Zoro nods. “Makes sense.”

His lips twitch again, like they’re trying to remember the shape of the wide, feral grins he so often sported before their two years apart. Usopp realizes he hasn’t actually seen Zoro smile like that since they set sail, but he doesn’t get time to dwell on that thought much because then Zoro says, “You must have a whole bunch of new tricks up your sleeve.”

At that, Usopp can’t help but beam. 

“Sure do!” he says, unable to contain his excitement. And then, because he can’t help himself, he starts talking; rattling off a whole list of new stars and pods and special ammos, things he was working on before that he perfected and new things he’s bringing to the table. It takes him a while to realize how long he’s been rambling, but when Usopp looks, Zoro’s still listening, his now single hazel-grey eye trained solely on the sniper. 

It makes Usopp grin and maybe even blush a little, to have Zoro’s attention so clearly focused on him like that, because he knows that Zoro doesn’t pay attention to things he doesn’t think are worth his time. So to be considered worthy—it means a lot.

“Who knows,” Usopp finds himself saying as he wraps up his diatribe, “maybe in the New World I’ll finally be able to call myself a Brave Warrior of the Sea.”

Zoro frowns then, brow furrowing deeply. “I never got why you said that,” he says, and Usopp blinks.

“You don’t get why I want to be a brave warrior?” he asks, confused.

Zoro shakes his head. “No, I mean I don’t get what you think you need to achieve when you say you want to be a brave warrior of the sea. You’re already brave.”

Usopp freezes, mouth falling open as he gapes at the swordsman. 

“M—Me?” he stutters, brain scrambling as he tries to figure out what’s happening, because clearly he’s missed something. “That’s not… Zoro, come on, be serious!”

He laughs a little to let Zoro know he’s in on whatever joke he’s trying to make, but Zoro’s frown just deepens further. 

“I am being serious.”

Usopp flails wildly for a moment, not even sure where to begin. “But… But I’m not… Zoro, come on. When… When have I ever been brave?” he asks in stunned confusion. “You know me, you know I’m—I’m scared shitless like, ninety-nine percent of the time!”

Zoro rolls his eyes, like he thinks Usopp is being stupid. “Exactly,” he says. “But you go out and you fight anyway. That doesn’t sound brave to you?”

Usopp has gotten hit with a Gum-Gum Pistol exactly once in his life. The force of it felt like it shattered every bone in his body, rearranged all of his internal organs, and knocked his brain around like a pinball. And he can confidently say that he was less rattled by that than what Zoro just said to him.

He tries to respond. It comes out as a completely unintelligible high-pitched garble that Zoro nonetheless seems to understand, because he sighs and says, “Usopp, being brave isn’t about being fearless. Being brave is about being ready to piss your pants over something and then doing it anyway. Fighting when you’re scared like that takes guts. You’re brave. Nami’s brave. Chopper’s brave. The rest of us? We’re just a bunch of idiots too dumb to remember what fear is. Sure we’re strong, but we’re not brave.”

Zoro levels him with what Usopp has mentally dubbed a Monster Trio Look—the kind that says ‘I’ve made up my mind; argue with me at your own peril.’ They pop up fairly frequently on Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji, but always for things like battles or tactical decisions or other, important things. Not for anything like this.

Not for telling Usopp that he’s brave.

It takes him a long, long time to respond. Thankfully Zoro doesn’t seem to mind the silence.

“I… I guess I never really thought about it like that,” Usopp finally manages, hoarse and maybe a little wobbly, and Zoro has the fucking audacity to roll his eyes again.

“Well, you should,” he grunts, and there’s a note of finality in his voice that tells Usopp the conversation is done and will not be revisited; Zoro’s mind is made up.

Grass is green. The sky is blue. Usopp is brave. Simple as that.

[hvninureyes]

𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓇𝑜𝓁𝓁 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇. . . | luka dončić

summary | you’re trying to adjust to your new life in la, bottling up your feelings despite the hurt you feel. too bad luka won’t let you.

warnings | none! just an angst to fluff fic <3

author’s note | this is basically my own way of coping. luka please we miss you 💔

the past few days haven’t felt real.

one day, you were celebrating after purchasing your new home with your husband. next thing you know, you’re on a one way flight to los angeles, hand and hand with luka. deep down, as the camera lights flashed from the paparazzi, you hoped that maybe, adam silver would pop out of nowhere with a whole camera crew, yelling out “it’s a prank!”

maybe your plane ticket would magically turn into a roundtrip back to dallas, where all your friends, family, job– your life was. yet two weeks later and still nothing. you feel horrible thinking it, knowing that he’s going through so much more, but it’s not fair. the way he found out, the way you watched him hold in everything for hours until he broke down in front of you, leaving without a proper goodbye, and the fake, soulless smiles for the camera.

give it time, they say, you’ll get used to it– yet everything you do, you say, those rare moments of silence where you’re alone with your rushing thoughts, you think of dallas. you think of home and how it was ripped away from you in seconds. you never thought this would ever happen to him, but here you are.

it's a party hosted by the laker’s organization. they wanted to “welcome him to LA!” the “right way”, with a bunch of shareholders and names of people you can’t bother to remember. the whole team is present as well, also some wives and girlfriends. you’re sitting alone with your glass of…something, when a voice pulls you from your thoughts.

“you okay?”

not just any voice, but his voice. the only one that matters. luka doesn’t hesitate to sit next to you, grabbing your hand and tracing circles on your skin. you know what this is, he’s trying to comfort you. a pang of sadness hits you, making you realize your selfishness. this is the last thing he should be worried about. this isn’t about you, you think. you signed up for this.

“i’m fine,” you smile, tightly, trying to convince him (and yourself). it’s obvious it doesn’t work, because luka just sighs and deadpans. “be serious.”

“i am!” he scoffs at your protest, rolling his eyes. “i’m your husband, you know. you’re not fooling anyone but yourself.”

you don’t say anything back because he’s right. painfully right. but still, you put back on your smile and reassure him once again.

because that’s what a “good and supportive” wife does. smile through it all.

it doesn’t feel suffocating in your new house anymore– just unfamiliar. like every hallway and room isn’t really yours.

sitting down on your shared bed, you take each heel off, finally feeling something throughout your body. exhaustion. but that’s better than feeling nothing at all. when’s the last time you felt actually at peace? you can’t remember, and don’t bother to. it’ll cause more problems. you can see luka enter from the corner of your eye, a determined look on his face.

you can already feel what’s coming next.

“you haven’t gotten away with this.” he sits next to you with a soft ‘thud’, “really, talk to me, baby.” you smirk, looking up at him. “was there something to get away with in the first place?” obviously, luka isn’t amused at all, seeing past your act. he stares you down with a serious look, expecting the truth. but you don’t know if you have the strength to tell him.

“i…” you trail off, thinking to yourself. “i just need time to process things. i’ll be fine.”

“but you don’t have to be fine.” you frown, looking at him confused. what? he continues,

“i don’t expect you to immediately get used to everything.” he says, softly, “that wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“but this whole situation hasn’t been fair to you, luka. this isn’t about me–”

“that’s exactly what i mean. yes, this has been the craziest past few weeks for me and you. it’s about us. you can’t–” he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, trying to find the words to say. “you can’t act like this isn’t hurting you. i see you, all the time, lost in thought. i know what you’re thinking about and i feel the same way. but you’re taking this on by yourself and you shouldn’t have to.”

you don’t say anything, simply listening to him. even after his rant, he doesn’t press you for answers. you’ll come around eventually, and when you do, he’ll be there.

“i’m here, for you. i made a promise to be by your side forever and i’m going to keep it.”

you don’t even notice you’re crying until luka wipes away your tears with his thumb, holding your jaw as if you’re the most precious thing he owns. with a smile, his eyes shine with pure adoration, reminding you that you are loved and seen. it’s this moment where you realize that you truly aren’t alone in this.

not even if you wanted to be.

[dekusleftsock]

I think that there’s a fundamental misunderstanding of what exactly is…happening with Izuku’s character. Specifically in regards to chapter 425.

I’m glad that a lot more people generally recognize that Izuku is not a character that can be read at a surface level, given that he’s both a repressed person with built up emotion of basically everything and also a very glaringly HUGELY unreliable narrator, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I agree with the ways I’ve seen this most recent chapter spoken about.

I see posts, comments, etc with ideas like “Izuku don’t suppress your emotions! Open up with people! It’ll be okay I promise!” When that’s fundamentally not what is happening here.

There’s always always ALWAYS been a distinct difference in character throughout horikoshi’s writing when he is showing that a character is:

A—Avoiding emotions, thoughts, ideas less than ideal for them. Not opening up when they probably should about their problems given that they’ve been handed the space to do so. Just genuinely not acknowledging, feeling, or expressing emotions that they don’t want.

B—Reflecting on the ways they feel about the world, themselves, or other people given their new perspective on a situation. Not outright reaching out to others to talk about these problems/feelings, but instead waiting until the moment they feel they have the most confidence to do so with their new outlook on their own life.

And genuinely, guys, to grab your BkDk attention rn, this is the exact reason why Ochako’s reflection on her feelings for Izuku and thereafter decision to pull away from them WAS NEVER GOING TO END IN OCHAKO EXPLODING WITH HER LOVE FOR HIM.

This was another common interpretation I saw of Ochako and Izuocha for a long time. That because she pushed these feelings away, they were somehow going to explode in this unbelievable way and she would “get the boy” because of it. That her arc would surround accepting her romantic feelings and that she can’t just push away how she feels for a career.

But yk. That didn’t happen. At all. Nowhere close even.

The same kind of goes for Katsuki, allmight, etc. They all had moments in their arc where it was spent genuinely reflecting, and the only reason we as the audience never connected it in the same ways we do ochako or Izuku was ALWAYS BECAUSE the narrative showed their inner thoughts while doing so (mostly because Allmight’s arc after losing OFA and Katsuki’s arc on what it means to be a hero were so intrinsically tied, both starting at the same time and ending at the same time during the final war. And because they were so tied this caused their own reflections, development, and thought process to be broadcasted to us frequently throughout their arcs… to each other. They also somewhat shared aspects with Izuku, but these were cherry picked more often than not, like dvk2 for example).

To us Katsuki never seemed to be.. idk, suppressing his anger in any way because we were always told what he was doing and why (side note: this is why I’ve always thought arguments against Katsuki were so weird, bc unlike characters like endeavor or Ochako he wasn’t like… hiding who he was and how he was changing. Ever. Like the audience knows at all times past basically season 3 what Katsuki is thinking and doing. Like how do you watch this happen, stare me dead in the eye, and tell me how much of a terrible and awful teenage boy he is. Like damn I didn’t think we were this dumb. This is also my theory as to why he’s most popular, his arc is very… in your face if that makes sense). Katsuki’s entire mini arc on reflecting his mistakes and his childhood and his future is spent TELLING YOU that it’s what he’s doing. (I’m referring mostly to the endeavor internship arc, the provisional license exam makeup, and basically everything in the war arc related to him leading up to bakugou Katsuki rising here)

And see, Horikoshi will stare you dead in the eye, tell you “this girl has taken into consideration that she doesn’t want to waste her time training her career focusing on a boy because he kinda caught her fancy”, and y’all will still say that this will explode in her face.

Y’all this is a series about learning how to manage emotions, maturity in relationship to one’s emotions, how to feel an emotion, but in a way that is helpful. Horikoshi isn’t telling you “go buck wild, feel everything all the time and always express it”, in fact he explores why you DONT do that! Through Toga or Shigaraki, they show how grief and anger can genuinely consume you. But he also shows why you shouldn’t just put everything in a box to never look at or acknowledge, or why you shouldn’t just let your grief destroy the world around you, or pretending that some emotions simply don’t exist.

I can’t say this enough, so let me say it now, mha is about the extremes of your psyche. That you should control something, but not too much. Everything can be harmful. Everything can be good.

Izuku is not controlling too much, he’s expressing just enough.

I LOVE shaming this dickhead at all times in all my posts. I love saying he’s an ignorant dipshit with a weird amount of distaste for a girl who just confessed to him. I’ve joked that chapter 348 is basically an entire chapter spent on Izuku calling Himiko a mean dyke. And yet I also believe he’s doing nothing WRONG here.

In fact, I’ll even say that this moment right here?

ISNT EVEN IZUKU DOING THE SOCIALLY APPROPRIATE THING ABOUT IT! But he’s still TRYING to reach out to someone he thinks MIGHT be able to understand. (And frankly, this moment is far deeper than what it’s being made out to be, to me it reads more like an unrequited friendship that Izuku both desires and has thought of them to have, while simultaneously showing the distance Ochako has successfully wedged between them for her own sake. Maybe it was always there though, maybe in weird, miscommunicated Horikoshi fashion, this is a representation of how Ochako always read all those “fun friend hangouts” as a little more than that, and without those feelings the friendship never really held any substance to her in the first place. Where Izuku saw his first real friend at UA, she saw little more than acquaintance)

Simultaneously, Izuku is genuinely reflecting on what it means for the world to change, to be a hero, to live after loss—and trying and failing to gain the connection he desires from individuals who can not and will not afford him that.

Izuku is ready for the world to change, a few select characters are also ready for the world to change (mirio, for example), but not nearly enough are. So maybe I’ll have to take this back if I’m proven wrong and I accidentally looked into this far past what everyone else did for no reason, but I genuinely believe with moments like this

And this

Aand this

That Izuku has come forward with that aspect of his character development. He’s reflecting on his new beliefs, not repressing his emotions for them.

[sejarcus-archive]

Modern Sejarcus au based on the lyrics of Good Luck, Babe!, in which they’re childhood friends who grew up in a homophobic small town, and though it came with a lot of pain, Sejanus was able to accept that he’s gay, but Marcus can’t bring himself to do the same and keeps living in denial, so when they eventually develop feelings for each other, all of this leads to a pretty toxic homoerotic situationship

[pepprs]

like at some point i have ti admit it to myself. it’s a 2am delirious ramble after a hard sad day. but i don’t think i like my job very much actually. i mean i do i love it and it was made for me and i made it for me too. but how come something that i love and was made for me and that i made hurts so bad and so primally? how can i like something that brings me so much stress and grief and despair so regularly?

[cleocatrablossy]

Absbevejishevebsb

Fucking great. Staying in California for summer might now be fucking up my holidays. Because I only get to see some of my cousins during the break that I’m in California and now my stepmom wants me in Texas for part of that break. Because I can see them “any time”. I see them once a fucking year. I can only really ever see them once a fucking year, the only exception ever was for my uncles birthday when we all went to Vegas. Otherwise, it’s once a year. And I can “always come back” to Texas if my summer plans don’t work out, LIKE FUCK THAT. The summer plans are: ‘stay in California and hang out with friends and my mom and just not be homesick for once. Also as a bonus maybe pull off getting a job. And go down to the boardwalk and hike’. THERE IS NO WORLD WHERE THE KEY PARTS OF THIS WON’T WORK OUT. But I keep only citing getting a job, and a volunteer opportunity, and summer classes to get ahead a bit as my reasons for staying. Maybe I should just stop sparing their feelings and say I just want to stay in California, because that’s where my whole fucking life is. And despite their best efforts, Texas is not my home and I don’t like being here. I’m only not having a breakdown because with enough hiding in my room and going on hikes I can convince myself it’s sort of like back home. And I can spend enough time on the swing that my brain just stops long enough that it’s not hitting fully.

At least I only have 1 more full day of this. Then on Sunday I’m catching a plane right back home. And today I’m joining a call with me friends to finally finish our D&D campaign, but it’s not going to be the same because it’s going to be over a call and we’re going to have to mind my 6 year old brother.

Holy fucking shit. Someone should have warned me that the custody issues would be the worst part of having divorced parents, maybe I would have been able to convince them not to move. Maybe that would have made it worse

[vrystalius]

Not saying “I love you“ back to the Squid game men.

How will they react if you don‘t say it back? In what scenario would they not say it back to you?

Pairing: The Recruiter, Thanos, Nam-gyu, Dae-ho, Gi-hun, In-ho x gn!reader

Summary: Them not saying “I love you“, their reaction to you not saying “I love you“

Genre: fluff, a lil bit of angst sprinkled on top

If you’re interested, here’s more fluff! Calling the Squid Game men some weird petnames and their reaction to it!

(Pre-Squid game)

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

Gong Yoo // The Recruiter // The Salesman

♡— Him not saying I love you…

It barely ever happens, really. He adores everything about you, from your face, voice, body and the ground you walk on; that man is ready to worship you like a devoted follower would to the most merciful goddess. Therefor he would always be aware of how to make your day a little better, even if it‘s just a small “I love you” or a gentle kiss here and there.

The first thing you hear from him in the morning is a groggy voice mumbling a small “Good morning love...” into your ear while warm kisses were trailed down your back.

While standing in the kitchen and searching the fridge for any signs of a tasty breakfast, a small “I love you, I‘ll be back later!“ would echo slightly through the apartment as the front door closed.

Once, he did forget to say his usual I love you on the way out. He thought about how he possibly could forget? You‘re probably overthinking everything now and think what you might‘ve done wrong or do to offend him. You didn‘t, though! He was just too caught up in perfecting his appearance because his damn hair refused to obey and submit to his meticulous styling.

The poor man was almost scared to come home. As some sort of peace offering, he bought some of your favorite take-out food alongside some dessert, flowers and a new bracelet he thought you might like. Anything to try and make you know that he does really love you.

“Apologies, it completely slipped my mind. It will never happen again my sunshine. I love you.”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

His face may be neutral and his expressions calculated but his features soften up immensely when you show even an ounce of affection. His smirk shifts into a dreamy smile, the crinkles around his mouth shifting and becoming bigger, his eyes twinkling just a little. He just can’t suppress when you even look at him.

Your kisses and words energise him, gift him life, so whenever you don’t give him that little boost of dopamine, he gets visibly more tense in a way.

The silence that followed after his usual “I love you my darling, I’ll be back later!” was almost eerie to him. He stuck his head back into the kitchen to check if you even heard him. You glanced back at him for a moment and gave your husband a dismissive head nod. So you did hear him?

Silently, he left the apartment and went on with his usual day during that time of the year. For some reason, today he is especially looking forward to slap his elders for loosing a damn children’s game. His face remained neutral and had his usual smirk on his face, but deep inside, he’s offended, confused, worried, stressed; all the negative emotions someone can feel after their spouse doesn’t reincorporate ones affection.

Do you want a divorce? Because hell no, he’d never let you go no matter how hard you

But once he got a little text message on his phone that read a simple: “Need cuddles in bed later pls. Got some snacks too. Love you.”, all of his worries washed away in an instant. You probably were still too sleepy to answer this morning.

A smile spread over his face as he thought about slipping into your arms tonight. Isn’t it ridiculous how he melt like putty in your hands?

“You forgot something this morning and it did worry me a lot. But it doesn’t matter, it’s silly anyway.”

Thanos // Su-bong // Player 230

♡— Him not saying I love you…

It’s actually quite rare to hear Thanos say “I love you” word for word. He still feels awkward committing himself to the relationship you have and those three magic words feel so heavy on his tongue, so he’ll rephrase them to suit his level of comfort. “Love ya”, “Thanos loves you” and “Me too” are his ways to dodge the action to reincorporate those sweets words you shower him with.

Thanos only really says “I love you” if you two are alone, sober and you holding him in your arms. To be cradled by someone he admires, cares and loves so much makes him want to cry for some reason, but he suppresses those emotions and instead buries his face in your shoulder as your hand soothingly runs up and down his back.

Those are the times you hear a small “I love you…” being mumbled against your warm skin.

So quiet it’s almost unnoticeable, yet it was there. You know Su-bong needs time to get used to everything, so you’ll settle with a small audio message-rap in reply to your usual “I love you” text message.

“Back to the kitty ‘cause she kinda pretty, I can’t stop looking at her ti- ti- ti-face.. Anyways, thinking of you babygirl. Iloveyatoo.” (You barely caught him saying this the way how quietly he mumbled it into the mic)

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

It’s fine. It’s cool. You don’t have to reassure him every day that you love him, it’s totally fine. You still love him like you did the day before.

It causes a deep panic inside of Thanos when you don’t give him his usual “I love you” text in the morning after he had woken up. He kept checking his phone like a madman, while he was brushing his teeth, peeking his arm and head out of the shower in the middle of shampooing, staring at his text messages while microwaving himself an convenience store meal. Nothing.

Not wanting to reach out first and appear clingy, he decided to write you like he is not having a full blown eternal panic attack. A small voice message here, a picture of his food there, a selfie from the bottom to show off his double chin, anything really.

You replied like normal but still, his eyes searched for the three key words. I. Love. You.

Thanos doesn’t want to admit to himself or to anyone for that matter that your calls, texts, hell, you coming over is like the most addictive drug to him. And he had his share of all kinds of colourful drugs.

His foot was nervously tapping the ground while his finger kept ringing your poor doorbell until you were forced to answer. He gave you a close look up and down, his lips formed into a pout of sorts.

“You okay? You didn’t text me you love me this morning. It’s totally cool and all but like… do you want to break up with me or something?”

Nam-gyu // Player 124

♡— Him not saying I love you…

Similar to Thanos, at first, Nam-gyu barely ever told you how much he loved you, liked you even. He just assumed you already knew and his actions were enough. A small side hug there and ruffling your hair here had to be enough for the rest of the week anyway.

He is guarded, afraid of commitment and to be frank in belief that you’re using him for the longest of time. Maybe you’re just “dating” him to get access to high-end drugs, all kinds of clubs or whatever else reason there is there to date him but for love.

You had to say those three magic words first for him to get comfortable with the thought that you are actually just want to date and love him. It came to him in the middle of a night shift at a random club he was supposed to promote. A moment of enlightenment.

Nam-gyu hid in a bathroom stall with his phone and ignored whatever the couple was doing next door, writing you a whole paragraph about what he was thinking, feeling, before deleting everything again because he thought he’d come off as some kind of pussy if he’d sent that.

His first time telling you how much he loved you was at your place. A casual evening watching some random movie you picked out while being arms deep in a bag of chips and dressed like a homeless person, Nam-gyu was staring up at you as if you were the most beautiful person in the universe even during this ungraceful moment of yours, admiring you in silence until finally…

“I love you.”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you…

Did he fuck up again? Do or say something wrong? Don’t you love him anymore? Was there someone else?? His thoughts go ballistic as he stared at the screen of his phone with a deadpan-expression, trying to shake the crippling fear and nervousness off while looking nonchalant.

Nam-gyu’s finger kept hovering over the call button to check on you in case something happened because there could be a whole other person talking to him by how there were no affirmations at all.

He doesn’t want to appear clingy or too attached to you as that may scare you off or even disgust you, so Nam-gyu’s casually mention that one time you didn’t say “I love you” while fidgeting with his ring, trying to appear indifferent about it while intensely watching your facial expression shift to try and detect if you’re lying about your reasoning or not.

Your boyfriend is afraid to not be good enough, too much, too little. Your little affirmations give him reassurance, every day a little more until he’s full convinced that you do really, really love him.

“Hey, uhhh. Did you forget anything today?… No? You sure? Mkay.”

Dae-ho // Player 388

♡— Him not saying I love you…

Never happens. Either he is dead and not able to reply to you or already said it multiple times throughout the day. Dae-ho has separation anxiety and gets nervous when he doesn’t have you in line of his sight or not around him in general, that’s why he always tells you how much he loves you whenever he can.

Off to the bathroom? I love you. Bringing the trash out? I love you. Getting dressed? You’re gorgeous and I love you. You could be simply existing and Dae-ho would bury his face in your neck and mumble a soft I love you into your warm skin, his lips planting a soft kiss here and there.

Dae-ho is just a little scared about saying his usual affirmation in front of his family, mostly his father. He’s a very affectionate and physical man but he still wants to look like the tough-marine-son his dad wants to see.

His sisters know better though, they see how their brother’s eyes twinkle in delight when you help his mom out in the kitchen with the dinner.

He does make it up to you after coming home though. Your boyfriend will stuff the leftovers his mom gave him into the microwave and usher to you made yourself comfortable on the couch while he makes some preparations to completely pamper you for the rest of the evening.

Sometimes Dae-ho’ll even try to flirt a little but he’s still a little awkward in that department.

“Hey, do you want some snacks with that? A drink? O-Or am I enough of a snack…?”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you…

Every time Dae-ho tells you that he loves you, you always reply with equal enthusiasm. How could you not? That golden retriever of a man gets that almost childish smile of his whenever you kiss his cheek or just tell him that he looks handsome today.

Once, you tested how he’d react when you don’t give him his hourly dose of dopamine by deflecting or ignoring his touches.

As his arms securely snaked around your waist and gently pulled you against his torso, you paid him no mind and continued to stir the ramen in the food container. He watched the noodles move in circles and gave your waist a gentle poke, trying to pull your attention to him. Dae-ho’s eyes slowly dimmed and the edges of his smile turned downwards.

The silence made him seriously nervous. You could feel his rapidly increasing heartbeat drum against your back.

“Hey… is everything okay? Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry. Can you talk to me?…”

Gi-hun // Player 456 (post s1)

♡— Him not saying I love you…

Gi-hun always reassures you of his love, even during arguments. He wants you to know that he cherishes and loves you for the rest of his life and that you are his everything. Whenever he doesn’t say I love you, something must’ve happened.

He has been missing for a whole week and you had no idea where your boyfriend went. Gi-hun didn’t leave a note, a voice mail, no nothing!

And after he returned and suddenly began giving you expensive gifts, the same boyfriend that used to ask you for money to get himself an convenience store dinner, now began buying you new headphones, bracelet and whatever else you even eyed.

It was nice, sure, but you were more worried about his mental state. He was paranoid and quiet, kept checking his whole body for some kind of tracker and barely ever spoke what was on his mind. Gi-hun began having panic attacks and you were barely able to leave his side because of how terrified he was to leave you alone.

He barely touched you, gave you kisses or affection. He changed after whatever happened during that week he went missing.

While running your fingers through his hair, trying to make him fall asleep after being awake for two days straight, he sleepily stared up at you through his dyed-red hair. His voice was quiet, broken almost.

“I’m sorry. Please… know that I love you. I love you so much.. Don’t leave me, please… please...”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

Your boyfriend called out to you but you didn’t quite hear what he said, so you replied with an “yeah!” and just hoped that that’s an appropriate response to whatever he tried to tell or ask you. It wasn’t.

Gi-hun stood there for a couple of moments, waiting on your reply to yelling “I love you!” across the whole apartment. When nothing came, he didn’t call out to you again. You were probably busy with something or don’t want him with your right now, he gets that.

Later though, thoughts of self-doubt began to cook up inside his mind. As he bit all his nails to shreds he overthought about how you had enough of him now. Maybe you are falling out of love now after how the death games fucked up his mind and body. You’re surely fed up with his paranoia and secretive behaviour, how much he has been obsession over finding a weird salesman. Surely.

The metallic taste that spread inside his mouth after biting the skin surrounding his nails began to open and bleed finally pulled Gi-hun out of his self-destructive thoughts that continued to circle like a toy train. Picking up his throwaway phone and choosing the one contact he saved on every single burner phone he had as “Reason to smile ❤️” and pressing the call button.

“Gi-hun? What’s wrong?” Your voice forced a small smile to form on his face. He hesitated

“Hey. Just wanted to ask if I should bring some take out home tonight. That’s all.”

In-ho // The Frontman // Player 001

♡— Him not saying I love you…

It’s purely just to tease you. When bored, In-ho will make you his greatest entertainment.

He likes making you annoyed and flustered, so he’ll intentionally ignore you just to make you react and pout at him adorably while he was trying so hard to keep his stone cold face and not break into a shit-eating grin and maybe even pull on your cheek to make you whine even more.

In-ho adores your whole being and cherishes all of your affections, so he’ll let himself get showered in them any tome he can.

Expect you to he cuddled up on his lap while he was leaning back in the leather chair, mumbling a complaint about how you covered his whole face in kisses but managed to miss the bridge of his nose. He will not allow you to move off his lap until you covered his whole face in kisses again as compensation for that mistake of yours.

So, In-ho’ll intentionally not give you affection so you pay even more attention to him. He is like a cat in that way weirdly enough.

Once you finally break his facade, the flood gates will open and you will be showered, bathed, drowned in his affection, physical and verbal.

“Fine. I’ll say it just because you’ve been so good to me today. I love you, my dearest, lovely darling.”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

In-ho has a dedicated frequency on his walkie-talkie for you, so he can call in and ask you to come to his office for a kiss that cannot wait, to inform you that he is in the bedroom and retiring for the day or just to tell you that he loves you randomly throughout the day.

Of course, you’d always reply back with your own gadget, but to pay back his infinite teasing he has done to you, you decided to ignore him the way he sometimes does to you. Payback.

Your husband called into your frequency. “Dove, are you free right now? Come to my office, I miss you.” and so your game begins. You simply ignored his request and continued getting comfortable in your bed and all the sheets surrounding you, grinning to yourself as you awaited the next time In-ho calls in again, for which you don’t have to wait long for.

“Darling, I am waiting. Do you want me to send someone to pick you up?” Your grin widened as you heard how impatient he was slowly getting with the lack of your response. “I can see you in the bedroom.” That one caught you off guard. Did he install cameras in your shared bedroom??

Almost on cue, your bedroom door opened, revealing the masked Frontman. His shoulders were tense and you could feel his intense state through the mask. You stared back, not expecting how quickly your husband would cave in and visit you himself. Innocently, you batted your lashes at him.

In-ho slipped his mask off and carelessly tossed it on the nightstand. “Why are you ignoring me? Are you upset or just moody?” Unimpressed, you silently glared at him. He gave you an equally uninterested look and leaned down to your face to give you a small peck on your cheek. “Not enough. More.”

A chuckle escaped his lips as his lips cracked into a smile.

“Demanding, aren’t we? Fine. As you wish.”

💠

Author’s note. Thank you for reading <3

Watch me announce that I’m going to post In-ho’s yandere profile and proceed to get hit with the most ungodly group-assignment in Chemistry. Anyways, take this as an apology! Had to write a little fluff for them since the only thing I’m finding is smut 🙏😭 I’m not complaining but this fluff prompt came to me like a truck during a class of mine. It was originally inspired by this post and I made a similar one before for the Demon Slayer hashira. Check it out if you’re interested!!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <33