#so even though i love him i barely speak of him

[nochepsicodelica]

The door to your shared bedroom creaks open, and Toji is greeted by the sight of you sleeping. It's five in the afternoon and you're bundled up in the covers, soft breaths exiting through your mouth because your nose is congested. You look all cozy, like a hibernating bear, on his side of the bed. It would be a more adorable sight under different circumstances, but this is the product of you catching a cold.

Toji sets the small bag filled with your medicine and other little things he hopes will make you feel better, on his nightstand. He crouches down in front of you and brings a noticeably cooler hand to your heated cheek.

"Hey," Toji calls, gently pinching your cheek. Your hearing must be muffled, because you don't budge and remain in your deep sleep. "Ma," he tries again, shaking you by your shoulder this time. You stir and attempt to roll over in the other direction, towards the center of the bed, but Toji keeps you steady by tugging on the blanket you're cocooned in. "Wake up, mama. Just for a little. I got your stuff. Medicine, snacks— you probably won't be able to taste them, but they're there."

You open your eyes, and simply blink. The room is darker and more shadowy since you went down for your supposed nap. It's been hours, but your body still feels so tired and your head is pulsing.

"How are you feeling?" Toji asks.

You were trying to say "so so", but no sound came out, so it seemed like you were mouthing the words instead. You felt the effort your vocal cords made, but your voice was shot. Nothing is audible unless it's strained. A huff and a roll of your eyes let Toji know how bad of a time you were having.

"Gotcha," Toji responds to your attempt to speak, a soft smile on his face.

He stands up from his crouched position and turns to the bag on his nightstand, rummaging through it to grab the box of medicine at the bottom and your water bottle. He sees you untangling yourself from the covers and sitting up to rest against the headboard, in his peripheral vision. Your hair is messy, some of it is stuck to your forehead from how much you've been sweating, even though you've felt cold the whole time. You can't breathe properly out of your nose, and your throat is sore. Your entire demeanor just screams "sick".

Toji offers you two gel capsules and twists the cap off your bottle of water, before handing it to you as well. You toss the pills into your mouth, and wash them down with a swig of water. In an attempt to clear your nose, you sniff a few times, getting absolutely no change in your ability to breathe through your nose.

"Go back to sleep. I'll get you some soup for when you wake up, 'kay?"

You nod and slide back down the bed, shifting comfortably onto your side. The blanket is wrapped around you, again, and you're ready to shut your eyes. Toji comes closer, crouching down like he did when he woke you up.

"Mm-mm," you hum, the sound cracked and barely audible, a response to Toji leaning in and trying to kiss you.

"Come on, ma. It's been a whole day. Just one. A peck?"

"No," you whisper, only able to communicate verbally in this hushed voice.

"Oh. You want me to have two?" He says, with a playful smirk.

You give him a deadpan expression and shift in the blanket, bringing it up to cover your mouth.

"Okay, fine. Just one."

You shake your head, minimally. Just enough so that you don't shake your brain and make your head hurt even more, and he still gets the message.

"Be nice, mama. Just one, then i'll leave you alone--" he pauses, briefly, "--until I come back with your soup. Then you gotta give me another one. You know, Toji Tax."

You roll your eyes and huff. The Toji Tax is just Toji's way of getting extra loving from you. There's a Toji Tax on just about everything he does for you, so you're not surprised that your sickness doesn't exempt you from it.

Your reaction showed the signs that let Toji know that he's about to get what he wants. The barrier you raised over your mouth is lowered, your involuntary pout now on full display, ready to be kissed whenever Toji's ready.

"Don't look too excited," Toji jests. He chuckles at the gloomy expression on your face. You look absolutely miserable in this state. It's adorable, and while he would love to keep teasing you, he decides to move faster so that you can get your rest.

It starts with a peck—as promised. He's slow with separating his lips from yours, to keep the contact with you going for as long as possible. Then he goes in for another one—just as gentle and delayed in separation. You still haven't done anything to stop him, so he keeps going in for more and more, each kiss more fervent than the last. Within seconds, he's barraging you with quick kisses, back to back, as if to make up for the last twenty-four hours he went without feeling your soft lips against his. He's getting closer, almost climbing into bed with you, so you hum, and turn your head. He starts following your movement, like an eager puppy, chasing after more of your kisses.

"Don't care if I get sick, ma."

You hum in denial and push his face away when he starts leaning in, again. Quickly, you cover your head with the blanket and roll to the other side of the bed.

Toji sighs, a mischievous smirk lingering on his face. He got way more than he expected, but when it comes to you, he can never have enough. He stands up from the awkward position he got himself into while he chased after your lips, and looks at your bundled up figure, now out of his reach.

"I'll be back, doll. Gonna go get your soup, but remember... Toji Tax."

[lukalnst]

pretty pls with a cherry on top some hurt/comfort w/ luka from alien stage where him and reader were close as kids at anakt garden but as they grew up and entered alien stage he started to become more cold and mean which hurts reader :(( but despite that he shows he’s still the same luka they know and love :))

LUKA X READER (HURT/COMFORT)

Includes: Luka x reader, gn!reader, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, can be both read as platonic or romantic

Luka had changed, or so you thought.

You had noticed this, much more than anyone else. Of course, you couldn't help but notice the changes in his demeanor, not after you two had basically grown up being sewn together.

It hurt, of course. It hurt a lot — you wanted to be close with him again. You had gotten some chances to speak with him, but most of those conversations were nothing but small talk.

You wondered if he missed you the same way you missed him. Did you even cross his mind?

He seemed to be having so much fun with the other participants. Yeah, you were glad to see him happy and enjoying his new relationships, but you felt left behind. Still, it tore you apart to see him doing not so greatly back in your Anakt Garden days, but still, you missed his friendship, the ways he would latch onto your arm while you both laid down in the grass and he would whisper a small 'I love you'.

... You just wanted him back.

What an irritating feeling. He had grown distant, so if you were to ask him for any sort of affection, you'd probably just be greeted with nothing but coldness.

Strangely enough, you had asked him to meet you after a round with some participants who, being completely honest, you didn't really care much about. He just stared at you for a while, then hesitated before accepting.

...

It had been a few days since then, the round had just finished, and you both arrived at the spot where you told him to meet you. Surprisingly, he was pretty early, and he didn't seem too nervous about talking to you once again, something which you couldn't relate to.

"Hey, Luka," your lips trembled slightly as you spoke. You stood up beside him, and he just gave you a nod of acknowledgment. Did you mean nothing to him?

You didn't want to know.

After a few seconds of silence, which seemed to be nearly eternal, he spoke. "So, what do you want to talk about?" He questioned you but didn't make any eye contact with you.

"Well, I just wanted to catch up with you. It's been a while since—" You were cut off by his own words.

"... You still care about me, no? It seems like you haven't changed at all," Luka whispered your name after finishing that sentence.

He was right. When you both were younger, you were always worried sick about him. You made sure that he didn't get hurt or anything similar, something which he showed his appreciation for.

But now, he barely even acknowledged your mere existence. You were surprised that he even remembered your name.

Trying to laugh it off to lighten up the mood, you laughed softly. "I guess," you murmured. "That's not the case for you, though."

Luka's eyes finally met yours.

"Who said it wasn't?" His voice seemed genuinely confused. "Maybe we don't talk that much... but you're still someone who means a lot to me."

His cheeks seemed to have a small pink color dusting them. He had grown up now, so he felt sort of forced to be different from when he was a kid. "If you think I don't care, you're pretty wrong." He added onto his words.

"What... what do you mean?"

"We may not talk much, but you will always be completely and utterly adored by me," A small smile formed in his lips. "After all, you showed me what love really was."

The words that were being said made you feel weirdly emotional, so you latched onto his arm, just like how he did to you when you both were children.

"... I won't let you leave again, Luka."

[miffue]

౨ৎ gossip girls ♡ gn fluff pre-established relationship lowercase intended not proof-read maybe ooc

feat. rin itoshi

thinking about gossip!boyfie!rin !!

no matter what kind of gossip it is, the drama he’s heard or you’ve heard. what drama you’re involved in, even drama that isn’t related to either of you guys — he’ll gossip about it with you.

“baby did you hear?” rin said to you.

“huh? what do you mean rinnie?” clearly confused. what could this guy — who barely starts a convo first, be talking about.

“okay you might need to sit down for this..” pulling you down to sit next to him on the couch.

“wait what?” panic settling in you, was he breaking up with you? is he tired of you? did you cross one of his boundaries. god, your mind was going crazy.

“you know how our neighbor was tryna get pregnant?”

with relief on your face, you responded with “yea.. we were literally over there like, the other day. we congratulated them rinnie. where are you going with this?”

“just be patient okay? so like — also don’t think about telling anyone.”

nodding quickly, “yes yes whatever rinnie, just tell me already!” clearly getting impatient.

“okay so.. the guy isn’t the father.”

looking at him wide eye — like a deer in headlights. “WHATT, where did you hear this, who told, is this some crazy theory.” speaking so quickly rin couldn’t understand you at all.

“baby calm down, please. i can’t understand anything you’re saying.”

“HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO CALM DOWN?? you just dropped a bomb on me. rinnie. tell me right now, where did you get this info.”

“tch, the mother herself.”

“what. wait. are you being deadass with me.”

“yes. she couldn’t keep it anymore, and i was near so she just asked to rant about it.”

looking at him in shock. jaw dropped. “rinnie did she say you could say this to anyone else?”

he stayed silent. that said enough for you.

“RINNIE.”

“i know i know it’s wrong. but like. it’s also fucked for her to do that.” he retorted

staying silent for a bit, you finally speak. “yea.. that’s true. i know she was desperate but that doesn’t give her the right to cheat on him.”

that simple sentence lead to a rant. instead of rin talking about this even though he’s the one that had been told first hand.

the whole reason he even talks about drama is could it always leads to you rambling. he could careless about drama but he loves hearing you talk — looking at you with pure adoration in his eyes.

author’s note — rin brain rot real.. this is based off that one scene in s2 of the additional time 😋😋 also wrote this while trying to study LOL anyways !!!! hope u enjoyed reading💞

[oldsoul007]

Haunted

charlie mayhew x reader

summary: Charlie seems to be haunting you so you must be haunting him

Charlie and I had once been inseparable, our relationship full of passion and dreams for the future. We spent years together, growing and learning from each other. However, as time went on, our paths began to diverge. We eventually went our separate ways.

Years later, I found myself attending a wedding at a quaint church in a small town. As I entered the church, I was struck by a familiar presence. There, standing at the altar, was Charlie. He was now a priest, his demeanor serene and composed. My heart skipped a beat as memories of our time together flooded back.

After the ceremony, I approached Charlie, feeling a mix of curiosity and old emotions. "Charlie, it's been so long," I said, my voice trembling slightly.

Charlie looked at me, a gentle smile spreading across his face. "Y/n, it's good to see you," he replied warmly. Despite the years and the changes in our lives, the connection between us was still palpable.

“I’d love to get together, catch up a bit?” I asked. “Me too y/n, meet me here later tonight.” He smiled.

We spent the evening catching up, sharing stories of our separate journeys. While Charlie spoke of his calling to the priesthood and the peace he had found, I couldn't help but notice the familiar glint in his eyes. The feelings we once shared were still there, lingering just beneath the surface.

As we parted ways that night, I couldn't shake the feeling that our story wasn't quite over. And Charlie, though bound by his vows, couldn't deny the unresolved emotions that seeing y/n again had stirred within him.

I couldn't shake the feelings that had been growing inside me. Every time I saw Charlie, my heart would race, and I felt like I was being haunted by my own emotions. We stole glances at each other whenever we thought no one was looking, our eyes meeting with a mix of longing and regret.

Charlie felt it too. As a priest, he knew he could never act on the feelings he had for y/n. It was a constant battle between his duty and his heart. He found himself thinking about her more than he should, each stolen glance only deepening the ache inside him.

We both knew it was impossible. Our roles in life meant we could never be together, and yet, the connection between us was undeniable. It was as if our were two souls destined to be apart, forever haunted by what could never be.

One evening, after everyone had left the church, I found myself alone with Charlie. The silence between us was heavy, filled with unspoken words and emotions. I finally gathered the courage to speak.

"Charlie, we need to talk about this," I said softly, my voice trembling slightly. "We can't keep pretending these feelings don't exist."

Charlie looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and longing. "Y/n, I know. Believe me, I know. But what can we do? I'm a priest now, and you're... well, you're you. We can't be together."

I took a deep breath, fighting back tears. "I know it's impossible, but it's tearing me apart. I can't stop thinking about you, and every time we're together, it feels like we're haunting each other with what we can't have."

Charlie stepped closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's the same for me. Every glance, every moment we share, it just makes it harder. But we have to be strong. We have to let go, for both our sakes."

We stood there, the weight of our words hanging in the air. It was a painful realization, but they both knew it was the truth. Despite the deep connection we felt, we could never be together. The only thing we could do was try to move on, even if it meant living with the ghost of what might have been.

Charlie found himself in a whirlwind of emotions as he stood with y/n under the soft glow of the windows in the church. All he could think about was how close she was, how her eyes sparkled when she laughed, and how her lips looked so inviting.

Before he knew it, he leaned in and kissed her. It was meant to be a brief, gentle kiss, but the moment their lips touched, something ignited within him. He tried to pull away, to regain his composure, but he couldn't. The warmth of her kiss, the way she responded, made it impossible to stop.

I seemed to feel the same way, my hands finding their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer. Every time he thought he should stop, the connection between us grew stronger, more intense. It was as if the world around us had disappeared, leaving only the two of us in this perfect, endless moment.

Finally, when we did break apart, Charlie was breathless, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked into my eyes, seeing the same mix of surprise and desire reflected back at him. "I... I didn't mean to... I just couldn't stop," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper.

I smiled, my cheeks flushed. "I didn't want you to," I replied softly, and in that instant, Charlie knew that this was just the beginning of something incredible.

[2danesand1cat]

The themes of regret, grief, and guilt have been in my mind lately, particularly regarding my sweet angel child-Damian.

It’s a pretty consistent theme in the comics that Damian believes he is not good enough, he’s a monster, that he’s not like his father or siblings, and that he’s full of uncontrollable anger, malice, and spite.

And while of course each batkid (and especially Bruce) have their own unique experiences with guilt and regret, I can’t help but imagine what all of that must feel like to a kid so young, who is incredibly skilled and highly intelligent, yet also very naive in a way that a child is about the world and their place in it.

Damian is frustrated when people don’t understand his harshness and his intense motivations, as it creates a barrier in the way he relates to his family. Additionally, he is barely able to step out of his own perspective as a child, preteen, and even young teenager to understand other people’s ways and motivations. This would certainly be incredibly isolating, having this drive and intensity you were tortured to develop and that you are now being told is wrong even though that’s all you know. But more than anything, he just wants to please someone, and it feels like they just keep misunderstanding him. This, of course, is not to say they didn’t try. Dick, Alfred and Bruce are his heroes for a damn good reason, but it took a great deal of time and constant redirection.

Even now, as an early teen, he’s still struggling with maintaining all the work he’s done on himself to reframe his self image and control his emotions. YOU KNOW HOW DIFFICULT IT IS FOR A 14/15 YEAR OLD TO CONTROL THEIR EMOTIONS?!?!

Do you know how much guilt and regret that must take, to keep him on track?

His desire to please is so strong because each small bit of praise that he earns reinforces this very feeble idea that, maybe, just maybe, he is good, and is doing something right. Each time he hears these things, it slowly erodes that constant weight on his tiny little shoulders of the guilt he carries everyday.

I can’t help but think of all the times he pleaded with himself and some high figure or something to “please, make me good like Richard. Help me be better. Help me be like Father. Please, please please” as silent sobs gripped his tiny frame and tears poured down onto his pillow.

Or all the times where he is sketching or training or just trying to exist and is hit with a wave of guilt as he has a flashback about his time in the league or even his early days in Gotham. Those are the days when his sketches get crumped because “it’s not worth it to even try to create something beautiful” in those moments. And how he refuses to wrap his hands as he hits the punching bag over and over again, feeling a small bit of relief at every spilt knuckle because “I deserve this pain” is all he can think.

Still til this day, as nightmares come and go, he lies there in bed and repeats to himself that “yes, that was me, i did kill, i did slaughter”, and even though what he just experienced in his dream wasn’t real, it was all at one time very, very real.

There were times when he wouldn’t eat breakfast after he lay up all night, coming to terms with his past self, reasoning that breakfast is for people that deserve it. He must instead punish his body for the its sins. Seeking comfort to placate his conscious was weakness as well. He did his best to hide his guilt and suffering from Dick and Alfred and Bruce, as it was not their cross to bear.

What he forgets, and still often forgets, is that he is and was just a child. And what he is trying to learn is that everyone has regrets, but we are not our past, we are our efforts to create a better future self. It gets a little better each day. He is trying.

At least now, he has given himself the permission to seek out the love and comfort he so desperately craves. When he silently pads into Bruce’s room at night, Bruce understands. They don’t speak, not then at least, but Damian no longer constantly denies himself the goodness that he is learning he deserves.

[almostloverboy]

No one say anything about this post, it's my way of coping with the stress of the election.

Tommy down the hall looks even better than last week. His beard is a little fuller and his arms are... firmer. He somehow always manages to catch the girl staring at him shyly when they pass in the halls or around the neighborhood. The way her eyes linger over his body holding something than sexual desire. Something much deeper. She always looked away quickly when she was caught so she didn't see the way Tommy's eyes noticed her body and her own discomfort with it.

So, when passing in the stairway, Tommy mentions that he's got this sick new movie that she's just gotta see. "I think it'll really speak to ya." He offers like she needed to be convinced. She nodded and immediately caught herself being too eager. The embarrassment still showed on her face when she was walking into his apartment later that night.

Tommy puts on Fight Club. She's never seen it before but she's literally sitting on the edge of her seat by the end. Tommy studies her response and at the end he mentions something about how he loved this movie before he came out. Had she ever thought about coming down to his gym sometime? He remembered her mentioning something about wanting to try bulking but was worried about what her shitty ex-boyfriend might say about it if she did. He was so glad when that frothing Trump humper was out of her life. She was ready now to do much more important things.

"I'll take you tomorrow. The guys at the gym are gonna love you." Tommy mutters, slipping a joint between her lips. Wait, hadn't he lit her up just a couple minutes ago? Her head is swimming and Tommy keeps whispering about how handsome she'll be once the hormones kick in. He had old binders she could borrow.

He doesn't cut her hair until after giving her the shot, though, because he wanted something to hold onto while he did it. At some point, her pants had disappeared and Tommy was pressed up on her bare skin when he pricked her with the needle and injected her very first dose of T. "And you've gotta think of a name that suits you better than the one you have now. Honestly, I don't know how you've handled being called that for so long." The haircut felt like shedding off layers of personality other people gave her over the years. Before she knew it, everything she thought about herself laid on the floor, trimmed to pieces by those loud, ugly clippers and Tommy's gentle hand.

The night ends in Tommy's bed and he's teaching his sweet little boyfriend how to take it up the ass like a real man. "Come on, dude, you don't really want me to fuck you like a girl, do you? It's cool, don't worry, I promise you'll cum for me anyway."

[lynn-tged-posting]

tged webtoon ep 166 spoilers and thoughts that are late again sorry about that it's starting to get really cold and my hands are freezing but it's fine below cut

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ALICIA AT THE END OF THIS EP SHES SO. PRETTY SO SO PRETTY HELP OH MY GOD IM . HEL P . HELPPPP YUOR MAJESTY UR TOO GORGOEUS

committing to the fake dating / fake engagement bit is CRAZY HELP ?? ??? HJELP ???? ? ??? WHAT IS HAPPENING

back to the top of the insanity

genuinely i am so glad that we r getting snippets of javier and alicia interacting i know its really brief but this episode rlly cemented in my mind that they're besties . they talk shit and poke fun at lloyd but also they both rlly just want him to fucking live . the besties ever

they're gonna beat the SHIT out of lloyd with so much love and faith and care and genuine hope for him and they're both gonna team up for it and lloyd cannot escape. JAVIER AND ALICIA TEAM UP IS CRAZY. I LOVE IT

also speaking of lloyd HES GOING. THRU IT GOD FUCKING DAMMIT WAAAHHHHH

losing my mind at the untouched food bc i figure he's absolutely taking it just to ease the minds of his family/friends who are bringing the food to him but he cant even bring himself to actually eat it to sustain himself this fucking hruts to look at . even when he's at his lowest he doesnt want to worry people (which kind of failed but damn did he try) IM GONNA EAT MY HAND

it was really REALLY sweet to see his summons and the system message box trying to get him to get up, to live again,,, is today's ep the like tagteam episode or smth they keep teaming up on lloyd . good i need that mf to LIVE

also sorry saying again but gghghh this moment too where even when lloyd doesnt feel like eating or living, he'll do whatever he can to make those around him happy . he keeps doing that, the things he chooses to do always end up being for somebody else, not just him. it's never just for him. he doesn't really admit or realize that though god he's the most selfless bastard ive seen in my fucking life I WANT YOU TO WANT TO LIVE

AND THEN THE FUCKING. COUNT AND COUNTESS ADMITTING THAT THEY KNEW JAVIER WAS LYING GOD FUCKING DAMMIT I SHOULDVE KNOWN JAVIER REALLY IS A TERRIBLE LIAR OF COURSE THEYD FUCKING NOTICE

and at that we FINALLY see a panel of lloyd that shows at least one eye . now he knows that they know,,,,,,,

i really really like whenever the illustrator pulls stuff off like this, where we dont really See them until really hardhitting moments . for the entire time before this panel it was as if lloyd was just,,, shut down. barely even there. not being able to see his face cemented that, and then lloyd hearing the count and countess talk,,, it's like a flip of a switch, both for him and for the reader, and i really REALLY like that. god my HEARTTT GHHH

especially when the count n countess choose to believe in him anyway. to wait for the truth ghghalsdkjflahsdf their patience and their willingness to . listen for the truth my heart my heart i cant .

AND LLOYDS REACTION TO THAT I . GOD THERE HE GOES AGAIN LIVING FOR OTHERS JESUS CHRIST LLOYD GOD FUCK. EITHER WAY HE'S GOING TO LIVE HE'S GONNA LIVE HE WANTS TO LIVE HE WANTS TO LIVE AAAAAAAAAAH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

i need u guys to understand i started fucking shaking when i saw this

the difference in lighting and framing in these panels compared two the other shots we've had of him i feel INSANEEE WWWHWHHHH

like the one on the left god it's so SO bright now . the fact that the count and countess are waiting for him, are being so patient with him, they want the truth from him so he needs to live to give them the truth and that's just like a window being open to let the stale air out and new fresh life fresh air inside im gonna . feel sick

and the panel on the right he still looks a bit worse for wear but theres that determined look in his eyes again, they're solid and bright and warm and they're not shaking or blank and i feel so so fucking happy HES GONNA LIVE EVERYBODY HES WANTS TO LIVE HE WANTS TO LIVE

taking things one step at a time, ,,,, even when its hard he's so fucking determined god ohhhhghhh my heart you can do it lloyd u can beat it!!! the summons are so sweet too they look just as determined to help him get to his feet again i feel so sick

OVERCOME!!! OVERCOME!!!! OVERCOME!!!! LLOYD!!!!!!

AND THEN WHEN. ALICIA ARRIVES. ALL OF THEIR REACTIONS HONESTLY ME FUCKING TOO I WAS SO FUCKING SHOCKED

im so so happy though im so glad things are looking up and the sillies are back lloyd lloyd lloyd you can do this alicia and javier will help you!!!! the count and countess will help you!!!!!!

step one lloyd back to himself, step two beat the shit out of fate, step three ??????, step four PROFIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

IM SO EXCITED TO SEE WHERE THEY GO WITH THIS IM SO EXCITED javier what do u have to say for urself. alicia u too. whose idea was this

anyway that's all from me rn i think if i get more brainworms ill add onto this post lol, sorry its not a lot! ill see yall next week (aka tmrw) (this is late lol)

[hazelira]

rope to nowhere

ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈

You had always known Jay carried a quiet sadness with him. It was there in the way he looked at the sunset, a distant longing in his eyes as if he were searching for something that had slipped through his fingers. You should’ve seen it coming, but you convinced yourself otherwise, hoping that the warmth of his touch and the sweetness of his words were enough to make him stay.

You find him in the kitchen tonight, staring into the cup of coffee he’s cradling between his hands. The dim light casts a shadow across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the curve of his lips—lips that once smiled at you like you were the only one in his world. But now, there’s an emptiness, a hollow look you can’t ignore.

“Jay,” you whisper, your voice barely audible above the refrigerator's hum. He looks up, startled as if he hadn’t noticed you standing there.

You take a step closer, your heart clenching painfully in your chest. “Are you still thinking about her?”

He freezes, the unspoken truth hanging heavy in the air. You see it in his eyes, the guilt, the pain, and the lingering affection he’s tried so hard to bury but never reasonably could. He opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. He doesn’t need to say it. You already know.

“She still has your heart, doesn’t she?” you ask, forcing the words out despite the lump in your throat. It’s a question you’ve been too afraid to ask, but the silence between you is enough to answer.

Jay’s shoulders slump, and he looks away, his knuckles turning white as he grips the cup. “I’m sorry,” he finally whispers, breaking the fragile hope you’ve clung to. “I thought I could move on—I wanted to—but…”

“But you can’t,” you finish for him, your voice cracking. The tears well up in your eyes, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall. Not in front of him. Not when he’s already miles away, lost in memories of a love never yours.

He sets the cup down and reaches for you, but you step back. “Don’t,” you choke out, shaking your head. “I can’t—Jay, I can’t be her replacement. I can’t keep pretending I’m enough when I know you’re still in love with her.”

He looks stricken, his hands falling to his sides. “You are enough,” he says desperately, but even he doesn’t believe his words. It’s there in his eyes—the guilt, the regret, and the shadow of a love he can’t let go of.

You swallow hard, forcing a bitter smile. “If I were enough, you wouldn’t still be thinking about her.”

The silence that follows is suffocating. It’s the final nail in the coffin, confirming everything you feared. You take a shaky breath and turn away, leaving the room before the tears spill over.

Behind you, Jay doesn’t call out. He doesn’t stop you. And that, more than anything, tells you everything you need to know.

ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈

You find yourself standing in the hallway, gripping the edge of the doorframe as if it’s the only thing holding you up. The familiar ache settles in your chest, spreading like wildfire, burning through the remnants of your hope. It feels like a final goodbye, even though no words have been said. You can hear Jay’s soft, uneven breaths behind you, but neither of you moves. Neither of you dares to speak.

The memories come rushing back—nights spent laughing under shared blankets, the way he’d look at you like you were the only person in the room, the gentle brush of his fingers against your cheek as if you were something precious. You realize it was all borrowed time, a fleeting moment where you were allowed to pretend he was yours.

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to turn back and face him one last time. He’s still standing by the counter, his shoulders slumped, his head bowed. The sight of him like this, broken and lost, would have once made you want to rush over and hold him close. But now, it only makes your heart shatter more because you know his sadness isn’t for you. It never was.

“Did you ever love me?” you ask, the words slipping out before you can stop them. You don’t want to know the answer to it, but you need to hear it. You need to know if there was ever a time, even for a moment, when you were more than a replacement, more than a temporary comfort.

Jay’s head snapped up, eyes wide and filled with a pain you’d never seen before. He looks at you like he’s drowning and searching for the right words to say, but there’s nothing he can offer to make this better. He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again, his voice trembling when he finally speaks. “I… I wanted to love you,” he admits, and it’s like a punch to the gut. You almost double over from its force.

You let out a bitter laugh, tears streaming down your cheeks now. “Wanted,” you echo, the word hanging heavy in the air. “But you didn’t. Not really.”

He steps forward, his hand reaching out as if to touch you, but you step back, shaking your head. “Don’t,” you whisper. “Please, don’t make this harder than it already is.”

His hand drops to his side, and the look of defeat on his face makes your heart clench. “I’m sorry,” he whispers again, and you hate how sincere he sounds. You hate how much you want to believe him, to tell yourself that this isn’t his fault, that he never meant to hurt you. But it doesn’t make the pain any less accurate. It doesn’t change that you’re standing here, pouring your heart out to someone who can’t love you.

“I thought I could be enough,” you say, barely more than a broken whisper. “I thought if I just tried harder, loved you more… that you’d look at me the way you looked at her.”

Jay’s eyes squeeze shut, his jaw clenching as he struggles to keep himself together. “You are enough,” he insists, his voice raw and desperate. “You’re more than enough. This isn’t about you. It’s me—I’m the one who can’t let go.”

“Then why?” you demand, your voice rising, the words spilling out like a torrent you can’t stop. “Why did you let me fall in love with you? Why did you make me believe we could have something real when you were never truly here?”

His eyes snap open, and for a moment, you see it—a flicker of something like regret, like he wishes he could take it all back. “I thought I could move on,” he says, his voice breaking. “I thought I could be the person you deserved. But every time I try… she’s still there. In my head. In my heart.”

Your breath hitches, the final confirmation tearing you apart. It hurts in a way you never imagined. It could be like you’re being split open from the inside out. You nod slowly, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I guess this is it, then,” you say, your voice hollow. “Nothing left for me to hold onto, is there?”

Jay’s eyes are wide, panicked. “Wait,” he breathes out, taking a shaky step toward you. “Don’t go—please. I can’t lose you too.”

You let out a shuddering breath, a bitter smile tugging at your lips. “You already have,” you say quietly. “You lost me the moment you couldn’t let her go.”

You turn and walk away, your heart breaking with every step you take. He doesn’t call after you this time. He doesn’t try to stop you. And somehow, that hurts more than anything else.

The door closes behind you, and the silence that follows is deafening. It feels like the end of a chapter, the closing of a book never yours. And as you walk into the night, the cold air biting at your cheeks, you finally let the sobs wrack your body, your hands clutched to your chest as if that could hold together the pieces of your shattered heart.

You loved him with everything you had, but it was never enough. The truth is, you were never the one he was in love with, and maybe you never would be.

ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈

The days that follow blur together in a haze of quiet loneliness. You bury yourself in work, in books, in anything that keeps your mind busy, hoping to silence the echo of Jay’s words. But they linger, a ghost haunting you in every corner of your thoughts. I wanted to love you. You repeat it to yourself like a mantra, but it doesn’t make the pain any less raw. You wanted to believe it. You wanted to believe that the love he offered, however fractured, was real. But now, all you feel is the hollow ache of unfulfilled promises.

You haven’t heard from him for a few days. The silence between you stretches out as if the space between you has become a chasm neither of you knows how to cross. Every time your phone vibrates, your heart races—until you see it’s not him. Memories flood your mind when you pass by places you used to go together. His laugh, his warm gaze, the way he gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, telling you everything would be okay.

You keep your distance, not because you want to punish him, but because you must protect yourself now. You can’t keep pretending you’re okay when every fibre of your being aches for something that isn’t coming. You told him you couldn’t be her replacement, but the truth is, you were never meant to replace her.

You weren’t supposed to have to fight for a love that was already spoken for.

A week later, you’re sitting on the couch, reading a book that doesn’t hold your attention, when your phone buzzes on the coffee table. You glance at it—Jay’s name flashes on the screen. You stare at it for a moment, your heart frozen in place. Then, with trembling hands, you pick it up, your thumb hovering over the message.

“Can we talk?”

You don’t know what you expect, but the message feels like a dagger to your chest. You stare at it, your chest tightening with every passing second. You’ve spent the last week telling yourself that you were done and couldn’t go back to someone who couldn’t give you what you needed. But here it is—his message, the bridge to the conversation you’ve dreaded.

You don’t respond right away. You let the minutes into hours until you’re sitting with a cold cup of tea, staring at the message as though it holds the answer to everything. You wonder if, deep down, you’re hoping for something—a spark, a sign that maybe he’s finally ready to choose you.

But deep down, you know it’s a lie. You know that whatever he has to say, it won’t change the truth. You were never meant to be his.

Finally, with a heavy heart, you type a response.

“What is it, Jay?”

The message sits on your screen for what feels like an eternity before the three dots appear—his response coming slowly as if he’s trying to find the words. You can feel your stomach twist in anticipation, in dread.

“I’m sorry. I know I messed up. I never should’ve let you get so close if I couldn’t let go of her.”

You close your eyes, the pain hitting you in waves as you read his words. The apology doesn’t feel like enough—not after everything. He can’t undo the past. He can’t erase the fact that you loved him with everything you had, only to watch him look at someone else with the same love you once craved.

“I understand.” You type, and your fingers are cold against the screen. “But you can’t keep apologizing for something you’re unwilling to change.”

You don’t know why you sent it. Maybe it’s because you’re tired of the back-and-forth. Perhaps it’s because you finally realize you’re worth more than this. The phone buzzes again.

“I wish I could be the person you deserve.”

Those words strike you with the force of a freight train. You let the tears fall, but they don’t feel like weakness this time. They feel like release. You’ve been holding on for so long, thinking that maybe, just maybe, he would turn around, but the truth is clear now: He’s not the person you deserve, either. You deserve someone who can love you without hesitation, someone who doesn’t keep their heart tethered to the past.

You don’t respond. Instead, you turn off your phone and set it aside, the weight of the silence now oddly comforting. You know it’s time to let go.

Later that night, you stand by your window, looking at the city lights, feeling the cold air brush against your skin. You allow yourself to breathe freely for the first time in what feels like forever. You didn’t get the love you wanted from Jay, but you’re learning to let go, to finally stop clinging to something that was never meant to be.

In the quiet, you find peace—not because you have all the answers, but because you’ve finally let go of the question.

ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈

As you stand there, the weight of everything pressing down on your chest, you realize you’ve been holding onto him like a drowning person clings to a lifeline that was never meant to save them. The rope, frayed and weak, slips through your fingers, but you keep gripping it, believing, somehow, that it will pull you to safety.

But in the end, it only drags you deeper into the water.

And now, as you finally let go, you feel yourself sinking, not into darkness, but into an ocean of cold, endless silence—where the only thing left to hear is the echo of your heart breaking.

[bilehwit]

Hi, another ask kinda indirectly related to the Bilehwit AU

But what are some of your personal headcannons about the bishops, that may or may not be in this au but as a personal interpretation of their character?

+ Who's your fav Bishop(excluding Narinder for now) ?

Favourite has to be Kallamar - gay coward??? Me coded fr fr.

That being said, I somehow always write more about Shamura???

But headcanons!

Kallamar:

🐙My man has a skin tone for gold, and he lets it be known by wearing enough to be heard janglin' a mile away.

🐙He has never once in his life done that! (He has done it 1 billion times, but he must appear better than thou.)

🐙Scared of Shamura when they're not lucid.

🐙Once drunk Leshy under the table only to then get decimated by Heket.

🐙Many spouses, does not like sexual activity. In my eyes he's asexual but a hopeless romantic.

🐙Will stop whole processions to look at bacterial growths on the floor.

🐙East Asian - South Korean, modern day would be a K-Pop beauty influencer.

Leshy:

��� Is Chaotic, but not in a fun way, more in a "Oh my God 3 people are dead" way.

🌱Used to biting to show affection.

🌱Cries when he's angry.

🌱Wants Shamura to be proud (they are.)

🌱Turns spouses into Witnesses. Also doesnt know what a spouse is/is for.

🌱Is the most physically violent.

🌱Ate scraps of metal on a dare (digested with no problems.)

🌱Russian.

Heket:

🐸Hates mushrooms (shockingly).

🐸Bought a cowboy hat.

🐸Likes to garden and cook but hates washing up.

🐸Says shit like "four score and twelve moons ago" to piss off Kallamar.

🐸Likes writing on Papyrus.

🐸Egyptian and will complain about heat.

🐸Lesbiab. Lesbaen. WOMAN LIKER.

🐸Tells you to go fuck yourself if you compliment her looks.

Shamura:

🕷When lucid, talks about the good old days.

🕷Most crimes committed as a mortal.

🕷Writes nursery rhymes for their followers.

🕷Used to have dancing rituals to gather sin - now can barely twitch their legs to a beat.

🕷"Oh, thank you Leshy- sorry, Narinder." "I'm Kallamar." "That's what I said." - common occurrence even before.

🕷Wants a pet so so bad. Do not give them one.

🕷Attracted to people with long hair and excellent grammar.

🕷Once did a kickflip so bad they had to kill the elderly congregation watching them.

🕷Tanzanian and speaks swahili when angry.

Narinder:

🪦Likes to bite Kallamar ("I can't help it, cats love fish." "I AM NOT EVEN CLASSIFIED AS A FISH." "You could be.")

🪦Indian, but spent so long in Purgatory he can no longer handle flavourful foods. At least at the start.

🪦Didn't realise Bilehwit had an ACTUAL CRUSH on him and thought they were like. Just that devoted. Pious. That's why they never took a lover.

🪦Cat baths when no one looks - gotta look constantly refined.

🪦Uses his third eye to scare people, namely children.

🪦I Would Never pt, except he definitely is still doing it while you watch.

🪦Finds children hilarious (to torment).

🪦Best dancer, worst singer of the Bishops. Can play music very well though.

🪦First time in Bilehwit's tent, he paid no attention because they were arguing. Then snuck in later to actually see the place.

And that's all my headcanons!

[narii-min]

Warning: Please note that this “article” is based solely on my opinion, and I am not trying to influence or offend anyone.

I am European, but I disagree with the elections in the United States. To be more precise, I disagree with the people who voted for the “red” side.

A long time ago, during the Middle Ages, women were oppressed, abused, and their rights were minimal. I would like to speak on the overall modernization of the world today. The world has changed since the Middle Ages, and no one wants the rules to be the same now, during extreme modernization, as they were back then. But why do the rules still not change when it comes to women? Why can’t women speak freely? The situation in Afghanistan is very serious, yet it’s barely discussed. And this is exactly what Trump supported.

I apologize if we have different opinions, but as far as biology is concerned, men are here because they were born to a WOMAN. All the credit goes to the woman for deciding to bring a child into the world. If Trump remains in power, Europe will be in crisis too. Under his rule, we will literally hit rock bottom.

To those who voted for Trump, I hope the day comes when you realize the mistake you made and the wrong decision you reached. Choosing someone with a long criminal history, including virtually unforgivable crimes, is an absolutely abnormal decision. I would like to point out that he has already been president, and he had the chance to build a good “image,” or at least try to. But he didn’t, and we all know that. Those who voted for him must have been manipulated by campaign tactics. But people, why didn’t you learn from the past? When this man promised things and failed to deliver anything. I can no longer call this country a “free country.”

My father once said that when voting, you should choose the lesser evil. So why did people reach for the ballot and almost polish the name Donald Trump?

Yes, maybe I’m a feminist. BUT, a huge BUT… I am a woman, and AS A WOMAN, I HAVE THE RIGHT to speak. Soon, we won’t even be able to breathe freely. I want women to be able to eat freely and not live in fear. I want women to exist and be loved. I want women to be considered as important as men and not be subordinated, not even to animals. And I will fight for women, even though I am just an ordinary citizen who can do little. Even with one grain of rice, you can tip the scale.

Please, get some sense.

Please, be responsible.

- Nari

[sergeantcowboy]

Hey I'm gonna pretend like the western worlds decent toward facism isn't a thing and that the already fundamendally flawed democratic system of the US isn't actively collapsing in on itself as we speak, I'm gonna share some oc facts.

(In all seriousness: to all my american followers or whoever happens to see this please stay safe. If you're part of any of the groups trageted by the right wing please keep yourself alive, they want you gone and just being alive is already resistance. I believe in you.)

Wow look at that! OC facts! (Mainly Crow's backstory and family stuff)

TW: parental death

Crow was born in New Jersey to a teen mom who had him at 16. He spent the majority of his childhood being raised by his grandparents.

His mom still lived with them, aside from some of the time in his early childhood where she attended community college for a bit.

She's a very nice woman and did her best but she was mostly clueless about parenting. Even as a small child Crow recognized her insecurity in that area but he still loved her.

His full name is Simon Francis Trevino. At this point he's so used to Crow he actually reacts a millisecond later when someone calls him by his actual name.

He hasn't met his father but at this point he isn't even really interested in the guy. His mom didn't talk about him much either.

Crow got bullied as a kid. He did have some friends in the neighborhood, but not anyone at school. He went to a catholic school that was in a different area, meanwhile his neighborhood friends went to the local public school.

His family is originally from the domican republic, both of his grandparents were born there. His grandfather's family immigrated to the US when he was still a child. His grandmother immigrated to the US as a young adult.

He speaks spanish very poorly, much to his grandparents disappointment.

His grandpa is kinda too into toxic masculinity, he has tried to raise Crow to be "manlier" from day one.

He's also not a fan of the fact that Crow likes other guys but he's not outright disowning him over it. He's just kinda awkward about it.

Same with his grandma, she's leaning on being more accepting though.

Both still prefer to call him "creative" or "different" if it comes up around extended family or neighbors.

Around the time Crow was 13 he got into a fight with a bully over a stolen diary. The fight got more violent than anticipated and the bully ended up hitting Crow's head on the pavement, resulting in his eyebrow scar.

As per tradition in school, they both got expelled for a week for fighting, despite the fact that the bully had been the one stealing Crow's property. The bully was also clearly the one with the upperhand in the situation. Crow did start the fight... cough

Crow had already been lashing out a bit at some of his classmates for the bullying, and after that incident he was officially branded as a "problem child" by the school.

His grandparents made the decision to send him to bullworth academy, partially to set him straight (not like that) and partially to "toughen up" a bit.

Around the same time they, along with Crow's mom, had been planning that she could take full custody of him and move away to learn more independence and also have a more "conventional family life". So instead of just sending Crow to live in the dorms, he and his mom moved to bullworth where they rented an apartment and his mom went on to work from part-time job to job.

She even worked as a maid for the Harrington household for a bit, before being diagnosed with breast cancer and getting fired so that the Harringtons could avoid having to pay any sick leave.

Her cancer was diagnosed late, so it was already at stage IV, and it was one of the more aggressive forms of breast cancer (triple-negative).

Despite getting help from his grandparents, they could barely afford the treatments. Crow started doing odd jobs around town and eventually started selling stuff at school for some more cash. It proved to be more profitable than he initially thought, he was around 14 years old at the time.

Crow and his mom had already made plans to move back to New Jersey to save more money and to be more around family, but she passed away before that could happen.

Crow went back to New Jersey for a bit, attending her funeral and taking a break from school, but after a month he and his grandparents made the decision to send him back to Bullworth where he'd live in the dorms now.

Crow continued his side business at school mainly because he realized he liked the adrenaline rush of doing something that wasn't allowed, and that was before he was even selling cigarettes and alcohol.

At the age of 15 he started getting into that part of his business as well. He also started spending time in his dorm room learning how to forge signatures just to make counterfeit hall passes and such.

He also started smoking because he got too curious about cigarettes. And, well... he already had some packs to sell, might as well try one.

He doesn't stay at bullworth during christmas, preferring to go to his grandparents house.

Even though he spends a most of his time there doing chores and helping around the house.

And even though he doesn't like dressing up to go church every christmas morning.

He still wants to see his family.

And visit his mother's grave.

[keehllo]

MiziTill and IvanTill analysis.

— First, understand Mizi, Till, and Ivan’s character.

Mizi’s guardian must’ve contributed to her naivety as arts of her with her guardian seemed sweeter than Till and Ivan’s interactions with aliens. Till was constantly thrown around and treated like garbage as his guardian ENJOYS TORTURE. Ivan is also treated horrible which contributes to his pessimistic personality compared to Mizi.

Mizi had something Ivan didn’t: Optimism. That’s most likely why Ivan didn’t hate Mizi when it was obvious Till has an infatuation with her. “When she smiled at me, my heart was reborn” which is obvious, Mizi’s brightness attracts people and which is why she’s able to make friends very easily. Ivan knew Till needed that, one of his ways of wanting to make Till as happy as Mizi does is by telling him how horrible Alien Stage is and wanting to run away with him.

I forgot which animatic but it’s shown that Ivan never had a red dot in his pupils until he saw Till. That must’ve been his sign of attraction. This same red dot is seen in Till’s eyes as he runs away with Ivan, he’s happy — until he thinks of Mizi. He remembers Mizi and thinks of what horrible things they’ll do to her if he leaves. The red dot disappears in Till’s eyes.

— Second, Till’s struggle with attachment.

Till clearly struggles with attachment as seen with Ivan, which is confirmed by VIVINOS on her Patreon, saying: “Till has a deep love-hate attachment with Ivan” which is one of the evidences that Till actually struggles so much with how to react when someone shows care for him.

What makes Ivan’s care different from Mizi’s though? Why couldn’t he accept Ivan’s but he could accept Mizi’s?

Ivan was close to him. He was always around him and even if they did fight, they would still hangout. While with Mizi, Till failed to even build a relationship with her. Evidence being Mizi’s intimacy score with Till: “He’s so distant… does he hate me?” And this is because that outside of rebelling, Till writes songs. It’s most likely a coping mechanism for him to vent his feelings. You can see in one of the animations as Till is writing something, Ivan is right next to him. This can be used as a symbol of their closeness. Even if Mizi wasn’t there, Ivan was.

Because of Till’s struggle with healthy attachment, he couldn’t react properly when someone genuinely built a bond with him, but he could with someone who barely hangs out with him.

This is a sign of avoidant attachment. Till’s struggle in how he can show love. After all, how can someone who has never been shown love by his own guardian give love? He was never even taught what actual love is.

— Third, difference between idolization and crushes.

According to VIVINOS on her Patreon she claims that Mizi is a “fantastical figure” to Till. As stated before, they barely interacted as Till was almost always in his own world (rebelling or writing music). Even though Till knows and speaks to Mizi, they don’t even have a bond anywhere close to how Till is with Ivan.

When you don’t build a bond with someone, you only perceive them as a figure. There’s very little to perceive about them when you aren’t close with them. This is how Mizi’s naivety and brightness comes into play, she was everything that Till isn’t. She isn’t a pessimistic, traumatized jerk who hits his own friend (Ivan) just because he gets frustrated with them.

Because of his trauma, he wanted to feel that too. Till put Mizi on a pedestal. This is IDOLIZATION. It’s a way to cope, a form of escapism from his harsh reality.

How can I be so sure it’s that? You can see it in Round 6. Mizi, already going through Round 1, is traumatized. She’s seen the worst. In Till’s flashback, she pictures Mizi in her Anakt Uniform when she was still innocent.

Conclusion: Till does love Ivan, but because of his attachment issues, he didn’t acknowledge that.

[ashprince-of-bel-air]

Night of Spite.

Part 2: A Touch Of Spite

I've had the game for 2 days and I'm already in love with Lucanis/Spite. I've not seen in much written for them so I've done it myself, I might do a part 2 if I feel so inclined.

Sleep had never come easy to you, even before you interrupted the Dread Wolf's ritual, now your mind was plagued nightly, visions of Solas stabbing Varric and the return of the elven gods haunted your dreams, what little sleep you used to get was now no longer.

It became a nightly ritual for you, to wake almost screaming and covered in sweat, the nightmares having disturbed you once more. The light house was vast and quiet, walking it's halls would soothe your nightly terrors most nights, though most of your newly recruited friends were asleep it still assuaged your mind to walk the halls. This night was no different from any other, you stood outside the door to Varrics room, guilt washing over you, causing you to walk away quickly. You did not know where your feet were taking you tonight until you found yourself outside of his room.

Lucanis had been a favourite of yours ever since he accepted the contract to help you, watching how he dispatched your enemies with ease in the Ossury caused you to notice him at first, but watching him change from a cold blooded assassin to the man you accompanied to the market is what melted your heart. Admittedly you tried to ignore it at first, you felt you had a bond with Harding after helping her train her newly gained stone magic, but this was something else, you felt bad thinking you would have to spurn her advances for Lucanis.

Luckily Lucanis kept to himself, at first you wondered why but after he told you about the demon Spite, you understood clearly then, he could not allow anyone close to him for fear of what Spite would do if it ever took over. You tried to keep your distance from him, not letting yourself get too close but you could still not deny the pull between you two. It broke your heart more to notice that Harding was pulling away from you, now you knew you were in too deep, your unconscious mind unable to accept that you could never be with him truly.

You knew Lucanis was awake as you could hear the fire crackling through the wooden door, he often staved off sleep as much as he could, giving Spite less of a chance to take over his unconscious body. You opened the door gently on the off chance he was indeed asleep, having finally succumbed to his own fatigue. There he was though, sat in the opulent armchair, his nails digging into the arm rests, his knuckles white from the force of his grip.

Ever so gingerly you walked over to him, not wanting to startle him, watching as his eyes squeezed shut, battling for control over his own body. Your voice was barely a whisper as you spoke. "Lucanis?...."

The sound of your voice snapped him back to reality, his eyes were now open but his hands remained on the chair, gripping for dear life. He shook his head as if to shake away the demon, knowing it would not work, Spite was ever in his ear, taunting him and tonight was a particularly bad night. Lucanis took a deep breath to steel himself before speaking, his voice was strained but it didn't lack any of its usual lustre to you.

"Ah Rook.... I was not expecting company tonight." The words came through gritted teeth as he tried to ignore Spite, Let me talk! I want to talk to her!. He tried to affect a small smile for you but you could see it pained him to do so. I know you want her! We want her. Spite was being relentless tonight, Lucanis had regular thoughts of you and Spite loved it, Spite wanted to speak to you as soon as they met you, he could sense you were different.

You stood there concerned, you knew he had been battling with Spite particularly bad for a few days and did not want to exacerbate things for Lucanis. "I.... I can leave if you like?..." Your voice was gentle, it always was when speaking to Lucanis, he enjoyed that side of you, tender and caring, even to him who was an abomination.

He shook his head once more and gritted his teeth before standing politely, his fists balled at his side. "No Rook" He blurted out almost too fast before composing himself. "Please stay... I'll make some coffee" A small smile crept up onto his face as you watched him walk to the coffee pot, you often shared a coffee together, enjoying the rich blend he would often make for you.

You paced the room as Lucanis attended the coffee, your hands stroking the old stone walls of the room, you often wondered how old the lighthouse was, admiring the masonry and architecture on your night time walks. You walked in silence until you felt a hand on your shoulder, turning you and pushing you against the stone wall. Lucanis was pressing his body against yours, holding you tight so you could not escape, you almost cried out until you saw the purple hue in his eyes. Spite.

Spite had been pressing and taunting Lucanis for days, begging to let him through so he could be man enough to do what Lucanis dared not to. He knew that you wanted Lucanis, he could smell your hormones and hear your heartbeat every time you were near him, each time he would shout to him, Tell her! You know we want her! Let me talk to her! Each time Lucanis held fast and kept Spite at bay, fearing Spite would ruin you, that was not what Lucanis wanted, he wanted to adore you and love you properly.

You were held against the wall, the vision of Lucanis pinning you there, his knee between your legs making sure you could not run away. Those purple eyes bore into your own and you could feel the lust behind them. You had never met Spite before and did not know how to act, yet your heart was pounding like a jackhammer, if this was Lucanis you would have given in in and instant, you didn't want to have him this way, possessed by a demon.

Oh don't worry sweetheart, he's loving this really. Spites voice was hot against your neck now, using Lucanis' lips to ghost over your skin, trying to tempt you to him. I'm only doing what he is too scared to do. Coward!. You could feel the heat from his words, laying your head back against the wall you tried to resist, In your mind you hoped Spite wasn't lying, that Lucanis did want you, but you would not take that chance, you would not believe a demon.

Spite roamed Lucanis' lips along your neck, kissing you with reverence, you tried hard not to let a small moan escape you but your attempt was futile, causing Spite to chuckle against your skin. His tour of your body only lasted a few more delicious moments, you could not deny that you had wanted this. Lucanis finally took over and laid his forehead against yours, he was breathless and his skin slick with sweat from the battle for his body against Spite.

You had no words for him as he still stood there, holding you against the wall with his body, breath ragged and desperate. Lucanis looked you over briefly and tried to utter some type of apology, but he could not, to say he had not wanted any of this was a lie, he had dreamt of you on many nights, your soft touch upon him and now you were here in his grasp.

Your foreheads were touching, panting together, you could see it was now Lucanis again and you wanted him to carry on from where Spite left off, hoping to finally break that barrier between you both. Lucanis stood before you, his eyes glancing down wondering what to say, he wanted this and was scared you would reject him. Finally he looked into your eyes, seeing the look of lust was all he needed before his lips crashed into yours, he did not even need Spite to bully him into this. Lucanis' hands roamed your body whilst his lips tasted yours hungrily, for once Spite was quiet and Lucanis would use this moment for his own personal needs.

[shadowqueenjude]

Do you ever have characters where you're like...I totally love this character...but the fandom loves them too and they have a group of vehement supporters so you don't feel the need to discuss them at all? And you root for these marginalized characters that somehow get loads of hate and you become more fond of them because somehow so few others are?

[cabeswaterdrowned]

so 😕 about how Tessa has all these moments in internal monologue about how deep down she’s always known Aunt Harriet making excuses for Nate wasn’t right and that he didn’t deserve all they both did to coddle him and that she always compartmentalized to see him as a good older brother, and how that’s all come to the surface now she knows he was willing to sell her out (though not the full scope of that) but then when Mortmain comes she still instinctively doesn’t tell Nate and goes instead ‘to protect him’ ugh. Like it feels so real as a depiction of a woman internalizing societal norms even though part of her is aware…

[soft-serve-soymilk]

More random head children musings (aside from the really sad one because that deserves better than a throwaway post):

Honestly I think it’s very fortunate that Dism’s team isn’t *entirely* comprised of lucid dreamers.