#why? part spite part intrigue

[smolstarthief]

You know... I ADORE all the HuskerDust AUs where Husk is still an Overlord who won Angel's soul in a game with Valentino, really they're always so cool!

But I'm surprised that there doesn't seem to be any AUs where Alastor LOST that faithful game instead of Husk back then. Basically Husk ends up winning not only Alastor's own soul (how Idk but maybe his own soul is not owned by somebody in this kind of AU), but ALL of the souls in Alastor's possession at the time (he got cocky and bet them all). So now Alastor is bound to Husk and would act as a means to scope out more souls (husband's idea) as well some form of advisor and muscle along with utilizing his radio show. Maybe even more eventually for any shippers? ;)

Idk but this is a kind of AU has loads of potential!

[glitteringdust]

Lucanis/Spite pining for Rook

Could be at any part of their romance.

Or at 1 am when that 13th cup of coffee hits

Why did you leave?

Spite's questioning had still not ceased. Lucanis ignored the demon, staring at the slow, orbiting Fade rocks in the distance. Trying to clear his head was hard when a Demon wouldn't shut up about his mistake. He takes a sip of the coffee in his hands, surprised at how cold it had become. A trick of the Fade or had he lost track of time? He had already lost track of what number cup this was, the exhaustion from the day was slowly creeping in. He needed to be in better control.

Rook was right there. You had her.

The infatuation Spite had for Rook had started right away— she was a shiny new toy, something new to play with. Lucanis figured the demon would grow bored of her eventually, but Spite hung on to every one of Rook's words and demanded to speak to her constantly. His attention was on Rook whenever she was in the same room.

He could not blame him, honestly. Rook was delightful to be around, and becoming the best part of his day. She was just… good. Everything felt good when she was there. So when she started flirting with him, he could not help himself. She was so close he could smell that unique scent of her.

Cherries…cinnamon…

He was so close to tasting her, but stopped himself at Spite's remark. He could not do this to her, could not bring her close to him if there was even one chance of hurting her. He was an abomination, a danger.

So he pulled away. He left. Keeping her safe was of utmost priority.

Rook is not afraid of us.

"She should be, Spite." He mutters aloud.

He heads back inside the dining hall, needing to start another pot of coffee if he is going to evade sleep a little longer. As it brews, he finds his mind wandering back to Rook.

What would it have been like? Sweet and intriguing, like he thought? Or would she have been more bold? She was a force of nature given form, after all. His kisses would have been fervent, as he pinned her against the wall. Tucked away in the dimly lit pantry, he would have shown her just how much he thought of her.

Maybe she would have taken his hand, and led him back to her room across the way. They'd risk the chance of being seen but he would not have cared. He can picture it now, the way the light of the main hall would make her curls a captivating navy blue. He should have kissed her…

…

…

He doesn't remember falling asleep, but jolts awake just outside the hallway leading to Rook's room.

"Lucanis?"

She's dressed down into sleep clothes, hair slightly damp as if she'd just bathed. "Is everything alright?"

"Ah, Rook. Yes. I am fine, only on a stroll."

Blue eyes examine him once over, a small frown forming, "You look tired, Lucanis. Why don't you get some rest? I can keep an eye on Spite."

Yes. Do it! Go to Rook.

"I do not wish to trouble you with that. Spite is mine to deal with."

"You can’t just avoid sleep forever. It would be no trouble at all." She looks at him with such softness, he wants to give in.

"I can handle this. Do not worry yourself."

The space between them is a hollow ache, close but not enough. A moment of weakness, Caterina would call it. To be an assassin, you must set aside emotion. To get the job done, there can be no hesitation, no doubt. Love is a weakness. It sets you up to lose.

He did not want to lose her.

He turns, heading out of the main hall and back to his own room. The air of the Fade was stale with each inhale, heavy.

How frustrating you are. She likes us, and you stay away?

"What is it with you? Why do you act as if you know her?" He snaps back.

You know her, so I do too. Rook is good.

It’s the least hostile thing Spite has said to him. The demon really means it. He cares for Rook in his own unconventional way.

He pours another cup of coffee.

[queenshelby]

AMERICAN GIRL (PART THREE)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Grace's Stepdaughter!Reader

Warning: Grace is a bully, infidelity, taboo

The following day, Tommy had, indeed , arranged for a tutor to come to the mansion and work with Emma and, much to the dislike of Grace, he had offered you a position in one of his many legitimate establishments where, unbeknownst to you, he could keep an eye on you.

Usurpingly, he did not trust you yet, seeing how Grace had betrayed your father by sleeping with him. As such he believed that you were nothing but a wildcard, a force that could not be calculated, and therefore potentially presented a threat to him and his livelihood. 

And yet, despite himself, Tommy found himself intrigued by you nonetheless. There was an allure about you that could not be ignored and, moreover, there was a quiet strength in your eyes, a fiery spirit that he found incredibly attractive.

The work that you had been assigned to do under supervision was simple enough - organizing and cataloguing items in one of his stores down in Birmingham - but the time you spent there was never mundane.

One of the women who worked there with you for the time being was no other than Ada Shelby herself, Tommy's sister who was clearly there to spy on you until you could be trusted. Yet, despite the hidden animosity between you two, you quickly became friends.

Ada was a woman of few words but much wit, a firecracker hiding beneath a quiet, steely demeanor. Her dark eyes held a thousand stories, most of which she would never openly share with anyone and you respected her for that.

Ada had a child of her own, but no man by her side to help her raise her young son Karl. Her husband Freddy had passed on several years ago and a tragic loss like this was something you both shared in your lives. 

Just like she looked after her son, you were looking after your sister and  , therefore the two of you found a strong bond between yourselves.

Unlike Ada, you were not shy about sharing stories from your life with her, although they weren't many and, in turn, she spoke about her brother Tommy, about whom you happened to have many questions, none of which she refused to answer.

You wanted to know what kind of man he was and when Ada told you that he did bad things to a good end, you couldn't help but feel intrigued by his many motives. It was during those long hours at work that Ada shared the story of Thomas Shelby and his family, painting a vivid picture of his past that you couldn't help but find utterly captivating.

You learned that Tommy had been in France, and, in spite of his achievements, he threw his medals in the Cut. He was a tunneller during the Great War and, when he came back home, he had seen too much to be able to return to the man he was before.

The war had changed him fundamentally, and this did not surprise you. It had changed your father too, and you remembered, as a little girl, witnessing the way the man you loved dearly had returned from the trenches of Europe battered and emotionally destroyed. 

Ada told you how her brother had started Shelby Company Ltd. with his brothers, how they had built it together and turned it into a formidable force that controlled large portions of the city's trade without giving away the family secrets. Tommy was at the helm of all this, and you could understand why Ada once said that she saw both heaven and hell in his eyes.

He was capable of immense cruelty and merciless violence, but the kind heart he reserved for those closest to him remained hidden behind the tough and unyielding exterior.

You worked at the shop three days a week and, at least once every day, Tommy would come by to check on you before, occasionally, visiting a woman by the name of Lizzie Stark at her nearby lodging. 

You followed them once and found out that Lizzie Stark was a prostitute who worked for Tommy. She was, as far as you could gather, rather smitten by him. It was obvious to you that her and Tommy regularly engaged in intimate relations with each other but, even so, there was something distant in the way he looked at her, as though he was always preoccupied by thoughts far beyond his current reach.

Lizzie didn't seem to notice this while, yet she considered you as her biggest thread and, in spite of your better judgment, you found the thought amusing more than anything else. After all, it should have been Grace who she was jealous of, not you but then again, perhaps she knew as well as you did that Tommy didn't love either of them. As he had told you himself, he didn't have the capacity for love, or so it seemed. 

The first time you saw Tommy with Lizzie however, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of something akin to disappointment. But you weren't disappointed about the fact that he was unfaithful to Grace, but rather , you were disappointed in the way your own heart reacted when you saw them together.

Eventually, four weeks had passed since you started working at the shop, and you've had ample opportunity to observe Tommy's interactions with Lizzie and others. She wasn't the only one he had been seeing and, for some reason, even despite his misgivings, that strange fascination you felt towards him kept growing, albeit slowly.

You couldn't put your finger on what it was that made him so magnetic. His brooding nature and hardened exterior were part of it, but there was more to it than that.

He was a man of many contradictions, and that intrigued you.

That same night, just like many others, you passed him inside the corridors of the large house you were now living in, giving him a knowing glance as if to say 'I know what you did today' without uttering a single word. And he always returned the look with an exasperating half-smile that both maddened and thrilled you. He knew that you knew about his infidelity and, yet he did not seem to care. 

You didn't hate Thomas Shelby or any of the members of his family, but you despised Grace with every fiber of your being.

The day your father died, your whole world had crumbled before your very eyes, leaving you and Emma at the mercy of a woman who couldn't bear the sight of you. She made no secret of this hatred and had been eagerly waiting for your father's fortune to be handed down to her hands.

As such, you really wanted to tell her about her partner's unfaithfulness. You wanted to rub it in and let her know that he was doing to her what she had done to your father all long. But yet, something stopped you.

Some unspoken code of honor, perhaps, or maybe just the small sliver of compassion that still lingered within your wounded heart. You pitied Grace and feared her in equal measure, and you couldn't bring yourself to interfere and risk your own wellbeing and the wellbeing of your little sister Emma who, only in the past week, had started sleeping in her own room. 

Besides, Thomas Shelby was not your concern. He was a grown man who made his own choices, and it was not your place to pass judgment on him. But somehow, you found yourself doing it anyway.

Occasionally, Tommy kept you company when neither of you could sleep and it were those nightly interactions that slowly, almost unknowingly, began to brew a forbidden chemistry between you and him.

Leaning against the banisters, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief as he puffed on his cigarette, you couldn't help but feel your heart flutter when he asked you about your day.

His gaze followed your every action, lingering on the gentle curve of your waist or the crook of your neck as you spoke. It was that same raw intensity that made your skin tingle and your breath hitch - a silent conversation of want and need.

You would meet by chance most nights, either in the library or outside, by the stables, after Grace had gone to bed and whilst your interactions were innocent enough, your conversations were deep and meaningful.  You found Tommy to be intelligent and well-educated, with a passion for literature and fine art, topics that you would discuss at length, fuelled by the desire to learn more about him - and yourself.

Occasionally, you would catch him outside the lavatory in the staff quarters, listening intently as you sang while having a bath or shower. This was something that had always irritated Grace, hearing you sing, but Tommy seemed to enjoy it - or, at least, he never let on if he didn't.

One late night, as you were making use of the large piano near the library,  Tommy entered the room. You hadn't heard him come in, but you felt his gaze on you, watching intently as your fingers danced across the keys.

You paused for a moment, turning to face him before continuing your musical journey with another melody.

"You have a quite a talent for music,"  Tommy commented, his gaze cast downward to the floor.

Tommy leaned against one of the tall, mahogany shelves that lined the room. The soft amber glow from the fireplace illuminated one side of his face, granting him a certain warmth in his usually stoic features.

"I learned from my mother," you stated simply, continuing to play. Your gaze remained focused on the falling notes you were creating on the piano, not daring to turn your head and meet his gaze.

But, oh, how you wanted to! His presence made you feel all kinds of things, some you'd never experienced before, like unsettling excitement and an irrepressible craving for that forbidden fruit.

"I sometimes come to the staffing quarters just to hear you sing in the shower," he  murmured, his eyes locked on yours as he confessed.

You felt your cheeks heat up, your pulse quickened as you continued to playing the piano, the melody now more dramatic. You couldn't believe what you were hearing; he must have been joking, being so direct but if this was the game he wanted to play, then you would oblige.

"I have noticed, and so have the maids. You should be more cautious," you teased, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as the corners of your eyes crinkled with amusement.

Tommy pushed off the shelf, moving closer to you, the space between you shortening rapidly. He leaned on the piano now  , effectively entrapping you between him and the instrument. You could feel the warmth emanating from his body, and it made your heart race.

"Perhaps I wanted you to notice," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze bore into yours, leaving you feeling vulnerable and exposed.

"And perhaps I wanted you to listen,"  you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

The tension in the room grew thicker, filling the air with a palpable energy that neither of you seemed capable of breaking. The only sound in the room was the gentle strumming of the piano keys beneath your fingertips.

Tommy leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel his chest rise and fall with each shallow breath he took, his eyes never leaving yours as he leaned over you and turned the page on the book in front of you.  You were acutely aware of the proximity between you, the way his body seemed to align perfectly with yours as if you were two halves of a whole. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a spark that threatened to consume you whole.

"Can you play this?"  Thomas asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he pointed to the new sheet music. His proximity still had your heart pounding, the wild beat echoing in your ears.

"Yes, of course I can. I can play anything," you winked  playfully before turning your attention back to the music sheet, your fingers dancing gracefully over the keys. You felt Tommy's gaze on you as you played, his presence making your heart race.

You continued to play, the melody filling the library with its enchanting sound. You could feel the weight of Tommy's gaze on you, and it sparked a fire within you that you couldn't ignore. Your fingers moved faster over the keys, your body swaying gently to the rhythm of the music.

Tommy watched you in awe, your talent and beauty captivating him completely until, suddenly, the door swung open .

Grace swept into the room, her eyes narrowing at the sight of Tommy standing so close to you, his hands hovering near yours.

"What is going on here?" she demanded, her voice tight with anger as Tommy stepped away from you.

"I am listening to Y/N play the piano," Tommy replied smoothly, his eyes never leaving yours for a moment. 

Grace's gaze flicked from you to Tommy and back again, her jaw tightening as she clearly struggled to maintain her composure. "I can see that, but I wonder why? Why are you listen to her play the piano at this hour?" she  pressed, her voice dripping with suspicion.

Tom's eyes remained locked onto yours, a silent message passing between you, a promise of something unspoken that only the two of you could understand.

"Because she plays beautifully, Grace. And, as usual, I can't fucking sleep, eh" Tommy replied, his nonchalant tone grating on Grace's nerves. She stared daggers at him, her eyes narrowed to slits.

"Well, wrap it up, because I cannot sleep either because of it," Grace said, her voice tight with anger, causing Tommy to look at her with a mix of irritation and mild amusement before standing up.

"I will see you tomorrow, Y/N. Have a good night," he told you, ignoring Grace's outburst and leaving you in a state of confusion and frustration.

You watched him leave, his presence leaving an ache in your core that took you by surprise while Grace told you to be quite and to go to bed. You didn't object, you knew better.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

[caramelloss]

please like or reblog if you'd like to be tagged!

hey guys! me again, i have a lilia x reader fic done! or at least the first part. this will be sort of long, tons of smut included, eventually. its a non-magic au, based on a student/professor dynamic. for the run down; lilia calderu is your philosophical study teacher in college. you skip class for the first few weeks, not really interested in a class with a bunch of university freshman, because the class was taken by mostly them. when you finally do decide to show up, your professor calls you out in front of the class, and tells you to stay after. she tells you she wants to see you in the class, and you notice some things about her that intrigue you. she assumes you're a stupid young adult, just doing whatever you want, but you're determined to show her you're much smarter than she thinks. you start going to every class she has, taking no notes, which seemed to annoy her. what seemed to surprise, aggravate, and maybe even impress lilia even more was how well you did on all of her assignments. they were all based on background research. just to spite you, to win this understood yet unspoken battle between the two of you, she assigns an essay based around creating your own philosophy for a construct of society. you, starting to find yourself thinking of your professor, always wondering what she was doing, if she thought of you, if you got under her skin as much as she got under yours, choose "competition", as your construct. the things you write are about her, about how she enrages but fuels you, and how competition can shape attraction and desire. she reads it, and she feels this desire for you. lilia had commented on everyone else's submissions in class besides yours, and you decide to ask about it one day after class, when you're alone with her. it's dangerous, mostly because the pull between you two is becoming too much to ignore. she tells you your construct and philosophy don't go together, and you become frustrated. you demand her to tell you why, so desperate for her to admit she thinks highly of you. she sits in her chair behind her desk, and asks you to leave. you don't accept it, and you try and get her to look at you. when she doesn't, you turn her chair, and you make her look at you. you expected to tell her off, because usually you would in this situation.. but something else happens. instead, you kiss her. one thing leads to another, and you find yourself in her bed. the rest of the fanfic just explores the power dynamic and sexual/romantic connection between lilia and yourself.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

My Valentine 🌹 ✉

Eddie has a Valentine card from a Secret Admirer and is on a quest to find who it is ✉

Major fluff and pining ahead 💕

🦇✉ 💞

Eddie hated Valentines Day. It was just an excuse for bullshit consumerism and stores to make money. A ton of hearts, flowers and cutesy shit that made him sick to his stomach.

He wasn't interested in it one bit. So when Eddie gets to school the morning of the fourteenth and opens his locker, he has quite the shock.

The card must have been slipped inside before Eddie even set foot in school. It roots him to the spot, he stares at the card and takes it hesitantly.

It must be a joke. One of Jason's ideas to piss him off because Eddie let out exactly what he thought of Carver and his idiot friends every so often.

Truthfully it was the better part of his day to wind that douchebag up. Scowling at the card he shoves it in his pocket, he's not giving Carver the satisfaction of reading it.

In fact most of the day he forgets it's even there, until it's lunchtime and he's looking for some smokes, emptying the card and his cigarettes on the table.

"Ooh, Eddie has a Valentine" Gareth coos and only shuts up when Eddie glares at him.

"It's a prank from that idiot Carver. Should have burned it earlier" he grumbles then Mike reaches for it and opens it.

"Don't think Jason would pay that much attention to detail" Mike shows him the card and Eddie pauses. Whoever sent it has drawn him shredding on his guitar, surrounded by Hellfire, bats and tiny hearts.

He tugs it away from Wheeler, squirrels it away so he can take in the details himself, hovers over the signature.

From your Secret Admirer 🖤

His heart skips a beat, he feels himself blush and smiles in spite of himself. He hides his blushing face behind his hair and places the card back in his pocket reverently.

An Admirer. Someone in this school liked him, more than liked if he was guessing as it must have took some time to hand draw a card for him.

The question was, who sent it?

❤️

You stay quiet as the rest of Hellfire tease Eddie about the card. There's no way they know it's you that sent it, you signed it by saying you were a Secret Admirer.

Would Eddie want it to be from you? You really hoped so. The crush you had on Eddie had grown and grown over the last few months.

Ever since you joined Hellfire last year you had been intrigued by Eddie. That materialised into a small crush that grew bigger and bigger every day.

All last night you made the card, after dithering over whether to make it for days on end. It was a burst of courage that had you up until three am, perfecting your work..

Then you slipped it in his locker before he could notice. You were going to tell him that it was from you. Of course you would. It's just you didn't know when you would or if he even liked you back.

If he didn't then it might make things awkward for you being in the group. If you didn't then you didn't... but Eddie was determined and he wouldn't stop until he found out who sent it.

He'd grill anyone he could think of to get some information, you knew plenty of people who were intimidated by Eddie, many of whom were in your art class.

Didn't matter that Eddie was as soft as a marshmallow, they took in the clothes and the demeanour that he put out and didn't look any further. Never thought to scratch under the surface, to want to know more.

But you did and every day you got to know Eddie the more you fell for him. You just wished you knew if he liked you back...

❤️

For the whole day Eddie had tried to find his Valentine and with no luck. There was no clue and it's frustrating him so much.

"Why sign it from a Secret Admirer and yet give me no idea who it's from" he rants and Dustin rolls his eyes, what a little butthead.

"Dude, there is clues. This person knows you love D&D and that you're in Hellfire, has seen you play on your guitar" Dustin ticks the clues off on his fingers as he says this.

It still doesn't help Eddie. Everyone in the whole school knows he plays guitar and likes D&d and is the leader in Hellfire. Who knows who has seen him play at the Hideout, usually, it's just a couple of drunk dudes.

"They like to draw, probably were up all night doing the card too" Dustin adds and Eddie lights up. If he hung around the art unit after class then maybe it would give him an idea who did this.

It's boring work trying to spy on who could have sent Eddie the card. Everyone was busy doing different projects and their teacher Mr Edwards kept a close eye on Eddie and his tendency to cause a bit chaos.

Art class calmed him if he was being honest, stopped the chaos in his head, gave him something to do with his hands and kept him occupied.

His mind still wanders to who is his Valentine and he doesn't realise he's zoned out and is staring at you. Something has caught his eye, a smudge of pen on your wrist.

Eddie stills as he zeroes in on the mark, vibrant orange, you weren't using orange today or the other day for your project. Jesus H Christ. Was it you who made the card?

Fuck fuck fuck. How did he even bring this up? Could it be a coincidence and he was getting his hopes up for nothing?

His heart is beating really fast and all he can think about is kissing you, he needs to know if it was you. Usually he wouldn't think twice about confronting some dumbass or calling out Jason and his dipshits.

You were different, he adored you and he felt excruciatingly nervous about talking to you but he had to know if it was you.

Unless... a thought springs to his mind and he has an idea. Taking his art supplies to the back of the class he begins to work on his new project.

❤️

You hadn't seen Eddie since art class, he didn't even show up at lunch and that was a worry in itself. Even the rest of Hellfire was angsty about where he was.

It wasn't like Eddie to miss an opportunity to wind up Jason and the rest of the basketball team during lunch.

Just when you're seriously beginning to worry Eddie shows up at the end of the day, he's holding large card, when you get closer you notice what it is.

I'm batshit crazy for you 🦇 Will you be my Valentine is written on on the card. Bats holding hearts decorate the page, it's gorgeous.

Blinking once, twice, you rub your eyes and when you open them Eddie is still there. This time he calls out for Dustin who grumbles as he holds another card in place for Eddie.

The Dungeon Master would like you to be his Queen 👑

He's drawn a picture of you as a queen, his queen. Dressed all in black, Hellfire surrounding you and you're sitting on a throne that looks a lot like Eddie's DM chair.

"I know you sent the card sweetheart, I'd love to be your Valentine, will you be mine?" he asks and bends down on one knee to kiss your hand.

You don't even hesitate, you throw your arms around Eddie, it almost knocks him off his feet but you're both beaming. "Yes I'll be your Valentine Eddie"

He smiles and kisses you again, loving the way you melt in his arms, marvelling at how fucking amazing the kiss is. Dustin groans in the background but Eddie ignores him.

Maybe Valentines Day wasn't so bad after all.

✉

[charliemwrites]

Part 5 of kidnapper/kept pet series:

You’re trying again with Johnny.

Or, more accurately, Simon is going to bring Johnny over so that you can (hopefully) adjust to him. Desensitize, at least. Warm up, best case scenario. Simon knows better than to get his hopes up.

He tries to set up for success though. Tells you that he’s bringing Johnny over this time. You make an annoyed noise, scrunch up your face. But he can see a little bit of intrigue in your eyes. You really could use a little more socializing.

He preps Johnny this time too. Reminds him that your shy (standoffish) and cautious (feral). Not to make any sudden movements towards you, or try to grab at you. If you come near enough to touch (unlikely) it’s in his hand’s best interest to let you make first contact.

“Be patient, she’ll come ‘round,” he reminds as he lets Johnny in.

And you, in pure spiteful fashion, are no where to be found. Simon sets Johnny up with a beer and goes searching, finds you curled up on the sun porch angrily crocheting.

“Time to come inside, feral.”

“But he’s here.”

“He’s not so bad, I like him.”

“Exactly.”

You fuss and grumble, but ultimately there’s very little you can do when he scoops you up. He brings you inside, your crocheting things in one hand, you secure with the other. Johnny watches your little parade with arched eyebrows. But he doesn’t say anything.

You get deposited on the couch, a scritch to the back of the head that makes you scowl even as you lean in a bit. Johnny has taken up residence in an armchair a healthy distance from you. When you eye him distrustfully, he chuckles and pulls his shirt collar aside.

“No tags this time, stray.”

You scoff and turn back to your crafting. Simon takes the other end of the couch, knows you’re a bit keyed up today. There, but not imposing on your treasured personal space. You settle in, more or less, though your eyes keep flicking to Johnny while he and Simon talk.

He’s much different from Simon; it’s why he wants you two to at least tolerate each other. You need the enrichment. He louder, brasher, more energetic. Eventually, you slink off to the kitchen for a snack.

“Grab us another beer, eh?” He calls.

You stalk out with a scowl. “I’m not a dog, get it yourself.”

Simon huffs with amusement as you curl up on the couch again, nibbling on your snack. Johnny points at you, empty beer in hand.

“You’re ill-mannered.”

“Says the guy that doesn’t know ‘please’.” You hop off the couch and retreat to your room.

Simon shakes his head, though his eyes crease with amusement. “Keep fucking around and you’re gonna find out. Again.”

“You spoil her,” Johnny complains.

Simon sighs. He still doesn’t get it.

“She’s not a pet, yeah? I’m just keeping her.”

“What the difference?” Johnny groans, standing to get another beer.

“A cat is a pet. A panther is not.”

“Och, and she’s a panther, is that it?” Johnny rolls his eyes.

“I don’t want her domesticated, Johnny. I want her taken care of just the way she is. If you’d stop pissing her off, you’d see why.”

Johnny grumbles, but lets it go. Lets the thought sit. Considers all the things in this specially made house just for you. The tv, the overcrowded bookshelves. The plants for you to attend to and the craft supplies lying about. The room that is yours alone, off limits to johnny, even simon rarely enters.

When you emerge again, it’s because there’s food. You’re hungry and demand a plate from simon, hovering at his elbow while he makes it up for you.

Johnny makes more of an effort, keeping all the things Simon told him in mind. He knows your unlikely to speak to him unless antagonized, so he talks at you - a lot like how Simon did when you first started out.

Luckily for him, Simon’s paved most of the way for him here. At first you pretend to ignore him, but eventually you can’t help it, he is a very engaging story teller after all. So you end up watching him openly, eyes darting from his face to his waving hands to his shaking shoulders.

You’re so focused that he and Simon even manage to coordinate Johnny giving you dessert, him getting close enough to touch as you take the slice of cheesecake from his hand. He’s careful not to touch, doesn’t want to break this spell.

But the real victory of the evening comes when he’s actually stopped paying direct attention to you. He’s still got some cheesecake left, more focused on talking than eating, as usual. And unnoticed, you slip from your chair, circle him and…

“Oi, did you just-? Get back here!”

In a move of pure strategic genius, you tuck up behind Simon. First out of caution and a little genuine fear for his reaction, then when you see him floundering, out of safe smugness.

“Ah, yeah, should have warned you about that. She likes to ‘share’.”

Several times now, you’ve eaten directly off his plate, off his spoon, from his fingers, even. You especially like doing it when you think he’s not paying attention.

“Feral brat,” Simon chuckles, “I would have gotten you more.”

“Tastes better when it’s Johnny’s,” you reply.

[idkwhatever580]

Always remember the things she said

Masterlist

Based on the song “as good a reason” by Paris Paloma (the girl who wrote “labor”)

Pairings: Natasha romanoff x reader | Wanda maximoff x reader!platonic\older sister vibes | Wanda maximoff x Natasha romanoff!platonic\older sister vibes again

Prompt: two occasions happen where Natasha and y/n give their sisterly advice to Wanda, and she’s the first one to connect the dots.

Warnings: swearing, songfic

A/N: guys I love a good songfic. this is giving me life right now btw. I’m living for this song.

Here’s the song if you want to listen. It’s not important that you hear it but it’s soooo good

Wanda and Pietro just joined the team.

Of course Pietro was busy recovering from almost bleeding out, and Wanda was getting tested for her abilities.

After most of the screenings were done she was pretty tired. And you were there to help her settle in.

You went with her to the party that night since Tony used their presence as a good reason to celebrate.

Wanda had sat next to you the whole night almost as you were elegant and beautiful in your own right. And you knew it. Suddenly she speaks up after not having said much more than a peep all night.

“You really know what you’re doing.”

“Hm?”

“I mean. You look like you love yourself so much and it’s attractive to everyone. It draws eyes towards you. The way you carry yourself”

You smile and thank her and nod your head.

“I didn’t always know how to own the room.”

She turns her head and says

“When did you change? Or become like this?”

You smile and say

“Can I tell you a story?”

She nods interested now.

You sit back as you recall that fateful night.

“One night. I was at a party not unlike this one.”

Wanda nods along and you start

“I met a woman with lips so red. A face so lined like spider webs. I’ll always remember the things she said. They were so wise, she opened my eyes and they’ll never close again.”

Wanda asked

“What’d she say? What did she do?”

You smile at her innocence and intrigue

“Oh how she sighed when she stubbed her cigarette. I felt compelled to enquirer of her success. ‘How do you do, how can you be so in love with yourself? Tell me please cause I need help’”

I smile at my youthful innocence and say

“I was just like you in that moment I guess. Which is why I’m telling you this story.”

Wanda is already on the edge of her seat.

“She said… ‘Every time you are succeeding there’s an old man somewhere seething, and spite’s as good a reason to take his power. When you hate the body you are in, oh love, you’re acting just for him as he counts his gold and green in his ivory tower.’”

I take a sip of my drink and say

“I was being manipulated by one of my exes. And she helped me realize I didn’t even like him and I freed myself from his grasp with her help. ‘Our fear it lines his pockets love, so take that rage and bottle up and put a drop into his cup of wine. You don’t need him you don’t need me. With that poisoned bottle you’ll be free, but be damn sure you don’t mix it up with mine.’”

I smile at Wanda’s face. She’s incredibly sweet.

“What happened to the woman?”

I chuckle and say

“Well, I did exactly what she said not to do”

Wanda furrows her eyebrows and says

“What? But you’re doing what she said to do right now yes?”

I smile and say

“Partially. See. The first part I listened to yes. But the second part. I didn’t listen so good.”

Wanda tilts her head slightly and says

“What did you do?”

“I mixed my poison with hers. But not in the way you might think. I simply fell in love with her”

Her eyes widen and she’s on the edge of her seat

“What happened to her though?”

I smile and say

“We got married.”

Wanda looks shocked and she says

“You’re married?!”

I hush her and say

“Yes but not many people know. It’s to keep her safe in a way. Being an avenger is risky. I wouldn’t want the love of my life to get hurt now would I?”

Wanda shakes her head and we continue on with the night without another question.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wanda has been with the avengers for a few months now and she’s been adjusting perfectly.

She is like family to them and she is at a gala sitting next to Natasha. You were drug off by Tony to talk to people. And to pass the time Wanda says

“Tell me a story.”

Natasha raises a brow and says

“A story?”

Wanda nods her head and says

“Like. Something that has happened to you that you’ve never told someone. That has a meaning behind it I guess. I guess what I’m asking is tell me a story and give me advice as well”

Natasha smiles when she pictures the perfect memory in her head.

“I’ve got a story. A few years ago I was at a party.”

Wanda nods along

“I met a young girl with eyes so bright. She was already getting sick of life. She had this boy who was controlling her basically. Her arms were laden with his merchandise. She asked me why I no longer try and waste my time and I said ‘spite’”

With a smirk Natasha continues

“I said… ‘Cause every time you are succeeding. There’s an old man somewhere seething, and spite’s as good a reason to take his power. When you hate the body you are in, oh love, you’re acting just for him as he counts his gold and green in his ivory tower.”

Wanda furrows her eyebrows as she recognizes those words.

“‘Our fear it lines his pockets love so take that rage and bottle up and put a drop into his cup. You don’t need him you don’t need me, with that poisoned bottle you’ll be free, but be damn sure you don’t mix it up with mine.”

Wanda mumbles the last words trying to recall where she had heard it before

“Be damn sure you don’t mix it up with mine”

When she makes the connection she says

“And then you ended up marrying her!”

Natasha furrows her eyebrows in shock and she says in a hushed tone

“How did you know that?”

Wanda responds

“She told me”

“Y/n told you that we’re married? We agreed to not tell anyone without each others consent.”

Wanda shakes her head.

“She told me her point of view of that exact moment and said ‘I met a woman with lips so red. Always remember the things she said’ and I remembered that she said that she married the woman but she didn’t tell me anything else. And I put two and two together and boom baby!”

Natasha smiles and says

“You’re the first person to figure it out. It’s funny because I told her not to mix our poisons and we did”

Wanda smiles and says

“I think you work well together. Like your poisons complement each others.”

Natasha smiles and says

“Thank you. And good job at remembering the woman’s words”

She smirks and Wanda giggles.

You finally break free from the people talking to you and you immediately make your way over to Natasha and Wanda and say

“Up to no good?”

Nat turns around and says

“Actually. Wanda has something she’d like to tell you”

You look at her waiting for her to say it and she gets all shy

“Um. I know who the woman with lips so red is”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise and you say

“Nat? Did you tell her?”

Nat shakes her head and she says

“She figured it out all by herself. She’s a smart one”

You nod your head and say

“I always knew she was smarter than she let on. Congrats on being the first to find out.”

Wanda nods her head and she says

“You shouldn’t hide it. I think you would be New Yorks top power couple”

You sigh and say

“It’s for our own protection. If we were to let that out someone might use us against the other”

Wanda nods and says

“But you have each other. You know you’ll come for each other. You know every avenger would drop everything to help you”

I nod and say

“You’re right. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to soft launch”

Nat smiles and says

“Let’s do it”

I grab my ring from my necklace that keeps it there and I put it on my finger. As does Natasha and Wanda smiles and claps excitedly

“I feel like a proud sister!”

I smile and say

“Good. You are our sister.”

She smiles and says

“Slay”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist

@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346 @moistblobfish @justarandomreaderxoxo

[speed-world]

Hello i am Engineer Anon. I humbly request that if you can do a Baker reader.

The Baker meets Stormbringer Cookie and her Sky Deities, and I want to see there thoughts on the Baker, like their thought on when they first encounter eachother and how they grow closer to the Eachother.

From- Engineer Anon🔧

Stormbringer Cookie wasn’t shaken when she first met you; in fact she was incredibly interested. It can be dangerous for a cookie to come face to face with a Baker, but it’s not an issue in the slightest for Stormbringer. She’ll say how fortunate you are to meet the Sky God, and will bless you with a very small spectacle of her prowess (it’s still an incredible sight in spite of it being a sliver at a look of her power).

She wasn’t expecting to see you after your first encounter; she figured you’d be busy creating other cookies while she’s handling the creation of Life Powder. However, she would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little curious to know more about you…

You both share a few stories about one another, giving each other more insight to some of the responsibilities you both have. Despite being a god, it seemed that there are a few things that even Stormbringer could learn from another being. Let it be a Baker to introduce her to another side of life, and Stormbringer doesn’t complain!

Stormbringer figured it wouldn’t be a problem to introduce you to the cookies she created. After all, you showed her your creations, so why not return the favor! You were amazed that the other cookies she created weren’t like what you baked, because she created other deities (almost) like herself!

Cloud Deity Cookie was surprised when you two first met. He considered himself fortunate to meet you - different from what Stormbringer was like - and is curious to know how you were able to so easily befriend Stormbringer Cookie!

You were curious seeing how his creation of clouds contributed to the cycle of life powder; which surprised him since he figured it wasn’t as impressive as what you-a Baker-can do. After seeing a display of the various things he could do by manipulating the clouds, you would only applaud in awe, which made him lightly blush from the cheering.

You two grew incredibly close as Cloud Deity Cookie learned more about your process of baking cookies. You offered the idea of borrowing some of the clouds he makes for your own recipes, which he almost immediately said yes to-…if it weren’t for the Great Sky God immediately rejecting the notion.

Wind Deity Cookie was stand off-ish at your first encounter, practically doing everything they could to ignore your presence. They didn’t have any hostile feelings to you, don’t get the wrong idea, they were just confused as to why you were here. A baker going out of their way to meet cookies? Did you have something you weren’t telling them?

After seeing how Stormbringer accepted you, which is almost uncharacteristic of her, Wind Deity would reluctantly accept you too. They admittedly liked your stories of baking cookies, and were curious to know how a baker’s process of making cookies differed from Stormbringer’s. Some of the cookies you mentioned and described sounded like some cookies Wind Deity saw before, which made them even more interested!

You were excited to see how comfortable Stormbringer Cookie and Wind Deity Cookie were together, which you totally teased Wind Deity about. They weren’t super happy when you did tease them, but Wind Deity let it slide as they knew Stormbringer was fine with the teasing. After all, Stormbringer would only tease you about some of your stories, which would make Wind Deity and you share a laugh!

Rain Deity Cookie is as welcoming as she is intrigued by you. It makes sense that a baker would meet deity cookies out of any others, but it was still a wonder as to why you would.

She thinks you’re quite incredible for what you do: making unique cookies isn’t easy at all. After all, she only contributes to one part of the process of making life powder, whereas you go through adding life powder to baking specialized cookies with several different recipes and ingredients! You think she’s even more incredible with her rain giving life powder to the earth, and she’s doing everything she can to hide her flushed face.

You both used your talents together as the cookies you baked would dance in the rain she created. It was a lovely spectacle that made you both want to create a whole show combining your abilities! Of course, it would have to be green-lit by Stormbringer first, but you enjoyed seeing how your creations interacted with the deities in a neat way!

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

I was wanting to do an Adamsapple AU storyline with you if you are cool with my idea. Basically not long after Lilith disappears Lucifer and Adam come with an idea to keep the peace between Heaven and Hell. Adam will marry Lucifer and become his Queen since he could no longer lead the charge against Hell as Lucifer’s Queen. But Adam must also wear a wedding gown at the ceremony, become a fallen angel as part of the ceremony, and bear Lucifer at least one child. Through this Adam starts to feel certain feelings that he thought were lost many years ago, the same for Lucifer. Also have protective and loving mother Sera too because I love it.

*this wasn’t a typical meeting that Lucifer had requested from Adam the first man, father of humanity, and leader of the Exorcists, he seemed to genuinely find a way to bring peace between Heaven and Hell so Extermination Day would stop, Adam couldn’t help but feel intrigued he didn’t like seeing his descendants being killed in spite of how he acted in public, Adam was even willing to go to Heaven’s Embassy in person instead of as a projection, he was thankful for the helmet that covered his face when Lucifer entered the room while Adam tried to keep thinking of Lucifer that way after what he did to him 10,000 years ago*

OMG I FUCKING LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!!

And sure! We can do a story line :)

Adam cleared his throat, it had been a good while since he saw Lucifer: Okay I'm here. I got your vague as shit message for this meeting.

Lucifer folded his hands together and placed them on the table: I'm glad you could make it Adam.

Adam: Well I don't have all day so why don't we get to the point.

Lucifer: Alright if that's what you want.

Adam: It is.

Lucifer: I believe I have found a way to bring peace to both Heaven and Hell.

Adam raised a brow: Oh, and what exactly would that be?

[himluv]

Preparations

Here's another Lucanis fic, and this time we finally get a hint of Rookanis??? (did I mention this is a sloooooooow burn?)

Enjoy!

When Teia reached out to ask Lucanis about preparations for Caterina’s funeral, his immediate response had been, “ask Illario.”

Her response was just as quick. “Illario is useless. Please, come home.”

He didn’t answer right away, and he wasn’t entirely sure why. He knew he should feel Caterina’s loss deeply – the woman who’d raised him was dead. But when he searched around for the grief he remembered feeling so acutely as a boy, there was nothing. Just a hollow sense that something was missing. Like a part of him was out of place. 

He felt nothing and felt guilty for it. Especially when he knew both Illario and Teia would carry the First Talon’s loss like wounds. 

When his silence became too prolonged, Viago’s message arrived. “Lucanis, please don’t make Teia do this alone.”

And even all these years later, Lucanis couldn’t deny an earnest request from the Fifth Talon. Yet, he couldn’t shake what Neve had said in her study. 

‘Demons are usually drawn to intense emotions.’

Lucanis was no stranger to loss. He knew its pain could come and go, devour and drown only to leave you gasping and raw in its wake.  What if all his missing grief came at once? What if that triggered Spite and he lost control with Teia? He didn’t want the Talons to see him like that.

Like what? Spite asked.

Like this.

If Teia needed support, then Lucanis would bring support of his own, just in case. And that’s how he found himself sitting at a discreet table at the Cantori Diamond, sipping wine with the Seventh Talon and Rook. 

He had to admit, she looked out of place in the carefully curated mystique of the casino. Everywhere he looked was dark wood, darker leather, and the purple and black uniforms of Crows at all ranks. Fragrant smoke roiled through the air, adding another layer of anonymity for the guests. 

In contrast, Rook stood out like an agate in a riverbed. The vibrant forest hues of her Arlathan leathers, her bright auburn hair, the muted blue ink etched on her face and her bare feet all came together to announce her as an outsider. A stranger to Treviso.

In the refined gloom of the casino, Lucanis found it almost impossible to look away from her. Currently, Rook was focused on Teia, absorbing her description of a typical Andrastian funeral. 

Of course, Caterina’s service would be far from typical.

“Huh,” Rook said when Teia had finished. “In the Alienage we were lucky if we got to see the body before the city guards took them away.”

“Alienage?” Lucanis said. He caught Teia’s intrigued glance, but couldn’t parse it. He rarely could. He understood the what of what someone said, but almost never the why.

Rook smiled at him. “I came to the Dalish late,” she said. “I lived with my mother in Wycome until I was eighteen.”

“Wycome?” Teia asked. “Was your family there during the massacre?”

Lucanis vaguely remembered hearing about Dalish and City elves dying in Wycome years ago. Something to do with the Inquisition.

Rook shook her headed. “My mom had followed me to the Clan by then.” She swirled her wine. “Though we lost a lot of friends and neighbors.”

Teia put a hand on Rook’s forearm and squeezed. Such a casual touch, how easy she made it seem.  

Rook gave a grim little smile, then took a drink. The topic was done. 

Lucanis cleared his throat. “How can I help Teia?”

“There are decisions to be made about the decor. Linens, centerpieces,” she looked at Rook. “Those types of things.”

This really would be better left to Illario. He’d always had a better sense of style. Most of Lucanis’s clothes were picked for him by his cousin, he just wore them so Illario and Caterina wouldn’t pester him about his appearance. 

Lucanis sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Teia, I don’t–”

“What are our options?” Rook sat up a little straighter, her gaze clear and present once more.

Teia smiled, the corners trembling just a little. Then she dove into a long description of tablecloths and runners.

Rook helps, Spite growled. Why?

Lucanis ignored the demon, peering into his wine and thinking of his cousin. Illario was impulsive. Emotional. It made sense that the idea of planning their grandmother’s funeral was overwhelming to him. But ignoring the Venatori threat knocking on their door?

That was not the Illario Lucanis remembered.

Don’t like. Don’t trust!

Lucanis rolled his neck and tapped his fingers on the table. Anything to avoid considering the demon’s point.

“Lucanis?”

He stilled and glanced up to find Rook watching him. Was that… concern in her eyes?

“Are you okay?” She asked.

I LIKE Rook, Spite breathed. He stood just over her far shoulder, so she sat between Lucanis and the demon. 

“I’m fine,” he said. “Please, continue.”

She held his gaze for a moment, as if she didn’t quite believe him. Then she turned back to take something from Teia. “What do you think of these?” She held up little swatches of cloth for him to consider, alternating black and purple, with strips of silver. 

He took a long look, as if mulling it over. He didn’t have the eye for this, but he refused to seem ungrateful. “It looks good,” he said. “Teia, for the flowers–”

“Crystal Grace and Prophet’s Laurel, of course.”

That sent a pleasant bloom of warmth through his chest. Teia loved Caterina as much – if not more – than her grandsons. She’d benefitted from not being raised by the woman. But still. It was good to know that someone cared enough to ensure Caterina’s funeral would be as beautiful and grand as befitted House Dellamorte.

Then it struck him. His house had another funeral not that long ago. Did Caterina plan it? Had Teia helped? And Illario?

Spite growled, but said nothing

“Teia?” He asked, interrupting something she said to Rook.

“Yes, Lucanis?” She gave him a gentle look. All she’d had for him were soft, gentle looks ever since he’d returned from the Ossuary. 

“Did…” he stopped. Rotated his wine glass by the stem. “Did you help with the last Dellamorte funeral?”

Stillness descended on the table. He heard Rook’s little gasp of understanding, but she said nothing. 

“Lucanis,” Teia said. 

A sudden wave of anger rolled over him. “Did Illario excuse himself from those plans as well?”

Don’t. Like, Spite said. Don’t. TRUST!

The silence went on a beat too long before Teia replied. “He did. Your grandmother and I made arrangements.” She reached for him, but stopped just short of touching him. “He was inconsolable, Lucanis.” She chuckled. “Vi had to sedate him after the wake.”

Spite growled his disbelief, but Lucanis trusted Teia. She wouldn’t lie to him about his. 

She sighed and shook her head. “I know things are difficult between you two right now. You both just need a little time.”

He glanced at Rook, who’d been suspiciously quiet on the subject of his cousin. She met his gaze, her expression guarded. If he knew her better, Lucanis might understand her wariness. Why this normally warm and caring woman had shut down during this conversation. But, he didn’t, and so she remained a mystery.

Doesn’t like him either, Spite said. 

Lucanis had gathered that much when they’d been at Café Pietra. Rook had been polite, but dismissive of Illario’s attempts to charm her. Then she’d criticized him once he’d left, said he heard one word in ten. It’d been a pleasant surprise to see she read his cousin so easily. Too often Lucanis watched people fall for his charms. 

See?

But, dislike did not necessarily equal distrust.  Lucanis sighed. “Was there anything else, Teia?”

She grimaced. “We wondered if you might want to speak–”

“No.” The word fell flat and final from his lips. He could think of few things he wanted to do less than speak at Caterina’s funeral. Maybe spend another year in the Ossuary?

Spite hissed at that.

Teia’s smile was tight but genuine. “Viago said you’d refuse.”

Lucanis grunted. “Make Illario do it,” he said. “He ought to contribute somehow.” He took a deep drink of his wine. 

Teia’s smile vanished. “He does love to hear himself talk.”

Rook snorted at that, but hurried to hide it behind her wine glass.

Lucanis smirked at her, and Spite grinned.

Oh, I LIKE her, Spite said.

Lucanis had to admit, he did too. And anytime he and the demon agreed, it was sure to be a bad idea. 

Teia stood and pressed her palms onto the table. “I’ll handle the rest,” she said. “Thank you, both of you.”

He shook his head as he and Rook stood. “My House is in your debt, Teia.”

She waved him off and they all said their goodbyes, but as they walked back to the eluvian, he couldn’t shake the idea that Rook didn’t like his cousin. So many people found Illario charming. What made Rook different?

Lucanis waited until they were in the Crossroads to ask the question that had been repeating in his head. 

“You don’t care much for my cousin, do you?”

She glanced at him, then shrugged. “I don’t know your cousin.”

“But..?”

She glared at him, but it carried no heat. “I know his type.”

Type? Spite followed a half-step behind Rook, too close for Lucanis’s comfort.

“And what type is that?”

She stopped and looked at him. “You really want to know?”

“I asked.”

“Okay,” she sang. “I think Illario is an arrogant smooth-talker too used to getting his way.”

Spite barked with laughter. Does. NOT. Like.

Lucanis blinked at her. “Wow.”

She tilted her head as if to say, ‘I warned you.’

“Harsh,” he said. “But accurate. Except for one thing.”

“And what’s that?” She tilted her chin up at him, all defiance. 

He frowned. “Illario only gets his way when it comes to his bed. All his other desires go unanswered. Caterina made sure of that.”

Good!

“And what about you?” Rook asked. She was close, suddenly. Close enough that he could easily see that pale violet hue at the edge of her irises. Much too close. “When do you get your way?”

He held her gaze, searching those crystal grace eyes for an answer. Why did she ask this? What did she want him to say.?

The truth was, he didn’t get his way. He didn’t have a way. He did what Caterina and House Dellamorte required of him, and that was that. He didn’t desire more because there was no point. Why desire what you could never have?

But, he couldn’t say that to her. 

He hummed as he mulled over her question. “Café Pietra,” he said. “I always get what I want there.” He smiled at her, tried to cover the truth with a dose of charm, but she didn’t seem to like that answer.

Rook blinked at him. “That’s not…” she frowned, then shook her head. Then she stepped away and made her way toward the Lighthouse eluvian. 

Lucanis followed after her with the distinct impression he’d failed. He just wasn’t sure how or even at what. 

Wrong, Spite hissed. Do everything wrong.

And for the second time that day, Lucanis found himself in agreement with the demon.

[fandombandomfics]

What It Cost (Salesman x female!reader)

Part 2 to The man with the briefcase

Summary: it's been days since you won your squid games. You try to go back to normal but can you? That's when the man with the briefcase shows up in your life again.

Warnings: mention of blood. angst. reader questioning everything. curse word. slight PTSD.

After I called that number, my life changed….don’t know if it's for the better or worse yet. Those games…like what the hell? There were 456 people that entered those games...only I came out alive. I came home a few days ago, 45.6 billion won is a lot of money for one person. I sent the money to whom I owed money too. So how am I gonna spend this remaining 45.1 billion?? Everytime I look at that money, I can’t help but think of the people who died in order for me to get it. It can fuck with someone’s head and it’s fucking with mine. 

“Y/N just move on with your life…,” I say to myself as I walk to one of the local cafes. When I walk in, the aroma of coffee and fresh baked goods hits my nose. I close my eyes and breathe in the scent before going to the counter. Ordering my tea and scone, I sit at a table and scroll on my phone. Sipping my tea, my mind drifts back to those games. When I close my eyes, I can still smell the blood and the popping noise of the gun shots. I hear someone clear their throat, probably to get my attention. Opening my eyes, the recruiter is standing in front of me, looking perfect as ever. Y/N no 

“Told you that I would find you beautiful,” He says, giving me the same smile he gave me weeks ago. His eyes still seem cold as ever, but there is something else there that I cannot quite place. 

“Congratulations stalker,” I say, groaning at the fact that he found me but also pissed that it took him this long. Wait, why am I pissed about that? He frowns and sits across from me, putting his chin in his hands. I look at him, wondering what he could be possibly staring at. 

“You seem…different.” He says 

“You would be too if you participated in those games,” I say, my tone is mixed with annoyance and a side of spite. He smiles and I just want to punch that pretty little smile of his. 

“What will you do with this new found wealth?” He asks, with a slight smirk. 

“It’s blood money you prick,” I say through gritted teeth, not caring if people heard me. 

“But still your money. You made it out of the dumpster victoriously,” He says, putting his hand over mine. I quickly take it away from him and shift in my seat. He pouts and leans back in his own seat. 

“455 people died in order for me to get that money. Sorry if I’m not jumping up and down, thanking the man who gave me the card," I start, looking directly at him. The look that he's giving me, one of sympathy makes me want to punch him even more. He brought me to the games, directly or not he's still responsible for my inner turmoil now.

"Thanking the men who run the games, thanking the wealthy white men who love to place bets on people who are in debt,” I say, not realizing tears are falling down my cheeks. My breathing becomes heavy as I grip the table trying to ground myself. 

“You let it haunt you,” He says, stating the obvious. 

“You would too if you lived out those games. Yes I paid off my debt but at what cost? My sanity?” I say, my breathing becoming even again and wiping the dampness from my cheeks. 

“You know you can become so much more than this,” He says and I laugh at him. 

“And do what? I’m not entirely sane anymore after those games.” I say 

“Take the money and go somewhere,” He says and I shake my head. 

“You wanna know something messed up?” I ask and he leans in towards me more intrigued. 

“I’ve thought about you the entire time I was there,” I say, I look at him and he has no reaction to what I’m saying. Of course he has no reaction, he sends countless people to those games every year. Why would I be so lucky or special to grab his attention? Then again, he did say he would come find me after the games...maybe something is there?

“Thought you were bluffing when you said you would come find me and yet here you are,” I continued.  He leans back into his chair and studies me for a moment before speaking.

“You shouldn’t be thinking about me, I’m a dangerous man Y/N,” He says, sounding like he was trying to convince himself more than me. I smirk and lean back in my chair. Old me would be cowering in my seat but this new me. Who has seen the worst of humanity the past, accepts it.

“Have a knack for dangerous men…these past few days I was surrounded by them in those games,” I say, cooly.

“And yet you outsmarted all of them, made it out alive,” He says

“But at what cost?” I ask, not myself more than him. 

“Everything,” He says, looking into my eyes. I look into his eyes and finally feel understood.  

“Those games took everything from me, can never go back to my old self ever again,” I say 

“Maybe that’s not a bad thing,” He says 

And maybe he’s right. maybe it’s not a bad thing at all 

[windienine]

the best game of 2024 was an hour-long visual novel demo, and i can't tell you how it ends

attack and dethrone god.

okay. oh my god. soul of sovereignty by ggdg (of lady of the shard & deltarune fame) is discounted for only a few more days, so i need to get this one out while the iron's hot.

so: i'm inviting you along on another journey. we're following a polite gentleman of the wizardly inclination (loïc) who is approached by a sickly woman in dire need (ysmé). all she requests, in her plea, is an escort to guide her to the nearby temple. his decision to support her may turn out to be the most important choice he ever makes.

... have you ever enjoyed the kind of narrative that traps two people with heavily contrasting motives and personalities together in an unbreakable contract? do you like stories of absolute devotion?

i could look at this shot forever ngl

... are you compelled by immersive speculative fantasy worlds where the use and study of magic heavily influences the rhythm of people's day-to-day lives?

(really intriguing magical linguistics system going on here)

... do you ever promise too much of yourself to others, sometimes, even when it's a bad idea?

... if it was possible -- if you could -- would you abandon your humanity for the power to change your world forever?

and, whatever you may feel in your heart about the above...

do you want to see behind the eyes of a hot trans girl as she bullshits her way into a truly volatile level of power and influence and gets everything she wants?

(+ her pet dilf lovely assistant)

if even one of these elicited a "yes," i think you'll love this story.

i'll go out of a limb:

i think, if you open up your heart, you'll find yourself falling for both of the leads. It's a game that really wants you to look at it from every angle, take it apart, and ask questions about loïc, ysmé, their stories, and what they believe to be true about the world and one another. subtext -- especially the charged subtext this story throws at you and hopes you'll piece together -- is a beautiful thing.

the number of talksprites in this demo is kind of staggering

the jrpg-inspired world of the mosaic and its surroundings is as vibrant as it is profoundly lonely, color folded into every facet of its character as you move through it. appropriately, it's really invested in a lot of questions that arise not just from high fantasy as a genre, but from the modern fantasy sensibilities of jrpgs and the interrogation of what divinity even means in a world where the gods are forces you can interact with and draw power from, however indirectly.

what can i even say? that gg and toby fox's collab score for the prelude is downright heavenly and made it onto my work playlist right alongside the deltarune ost the day it came out on bandcamp? that gg's art, especially their use of light, conveys every scene with vivid beauty?

i wouldn't be posting so much of it if i didn't want to eat every CG. oh my god. he's so pretty. it's not even fair

beyond all of that, i think the game's main resonance point with people is that gg's writing is genuinely thoughtful. they use art detail and deft character writing to convey everything about the leads, using the limited time you get with it to paint layers and layers of information on who these people are and why they make the decisions they do. soulsov's roughly an-hour-and-change of text, expressive talksprites, and lush CGs is infused with so much heart and so much horror and so much intrigue that it leaves you feeling like you're a part of this world, carried along for the ride right alongside the two leads. gg clearly really adores these two, and that level of passion makes everything loïc and ysmé do shine even brighter. in spite of (or perhaps because of) all their friction and flaws, they're easy to love.

(it's really fun to read aloud as a script, too! ysmé's a hoot.)

i hope you experience it with high expectations and an open heart. i don't think it will disappoint. it is, perhaps, just a little bit magical.

i hope you see it through to the end!

[themissingnumbers]

[ @pkmn-monochrome - interaction thing i can't send as an ask bc long and images]

The dark of the Pokemon tower is never something that has bothered Red. Never something that would, certainly not after seeing much worse and being much older.

At this point, really, it's a kind of eeriness he'd come to miss. It reminds him of simpler times- days when a young boy only had to fear things like ghost stories, and shadows that lurked in the dark.

He knows very well that this place is not the Pokemon Tower he knew, of course. He's not stupid. This place was only built in its image, the miserable ending of a game dyed in grey and built out of spite.

He runs a hand along the wall of the staircase he descends, feeling the cold stone, yet also the intangible data, dull static and code under the fingertips. Watches in quiet fascination as the textures distort and corrupt under deliberate contact, the broken foundations of Generation 1 reacting to him, (same as always,) but a touch more stable from the fusion of the bastard remakes keeping it grounded.

Any damage caused is meaningless, the existence of it debatable as a whole, as he passes through a loading zone. Half of him watches everything fade to black, the other half just continues down the steps that are as tangible as anything else here is to someone within the game. Everything is right- just as it should be.

Either way, it's not like it's his game to break. That would be plain rude, especially with the risk of killing someone!

Intrigue in this world, curious as it may be, isn't why he's here.

Nah. He's more interested in something else.

Or, someone, to be more precise.

Having finally found who he'd looking for, Red steps off the stairs and into another layer of this endless graveyard, whistling as he finally lays eyes on a certain monochromatic individual.

"Y'know..." he chides from across the room, "A graveyard's a pretty cliche place to spend eternity, don't you think?"

He snorts at his own remark. "Course, I guess it's not like you had a choice. The sadsack that made this game could've picked something a little more outside the box, is all I'm saying. Do you think they'd bury bodies in the Viridian Forest, maybe? Or swimming offa Route 20, try a little watery grave... Oh, Champion's Road could be pretty morbid!"

He sighs and folds his arms, shaking his head at himself.

"... Nah, I'm joking. I can see the vision. I could give less of a shit about this place, anyways..."

His eyes gleam, and a menacing smile spreads across his face.

"I'm more interested in you. A glorified reskin of Pokemon Tower ain't shit compared to you. A little bug told me about some sentient Red-Leaf kinda amalgamation with the memories of a real person, and I just had to look into it and come to see for myself. Lo and behold..."

He spreads his arms out in some kind of almost-mocking grand gesture.

"Here you are! Cody, right? In the flesh, or... I suppose your problem is the lack thereof, heh."

He begins to approach, moving slowly and never once looking away. He stalks forward, every step careful and deliberate, teeth bared in a grin that holds no happiness but oozes with amusement.

"I've got so many questions, I don't even know where to begin. You're really something special... One of a kind, fully aware of everything. Knowing what life both here, and out there, is really like. I've seen players that would kill to even get a chance to stand where we do, but... You want out more than anything."

Scratching his chin, the man walks around them at a slight distance. Red gets the thought that Cody wouldn't want something like him anywhere near them. At least he can respect that.

"Suppose the courteous thing would be to ask a question- that's the tradition around these parts, right? Constantly interrogating you so you don't have to sit here, alone with your..."

His eyes flicker to the two GHOSTs at Cody's side.

"... Thoughts. And the like."

He hops onto a grave nearby, sitting with his ankles crossed. Respect towards the dead be damned, every tomb in places like this were about as sacred as Halloween decorations.

"Here's what I'd like to know, Cody."

His smile widens further- for a brief moment, the glitches on his body seem to spread to the air around him, cutting through the gray with burning streaks of red, white, and yellow.

"You have your hacker's memories. Some of them. ANY of them. It's enough. You'd know what it was like to be them. You know what it was like to be human. You know both worlds."

"What is it like? To be real? To be something more than code. How different is it from this?"

"What was it like to be HUMAN?"

He jabs a finger forward, pointing at them as the static that flared up around him quickly subsides, clearing the air back into the typical oppressive atmosphere of the endless graveyard.

"I want to hear it from you," he finishes cooly, "someone who has been on both sides of the screen. You could tell me better than anyone."

[tobiasdrake]

My favourite thing about the Dragon Balls making death less permanent is that, in spite of taking away some impact, it gives us one of the best parts of the show.

Vegeta.

Narratively, he should have died on Namek. He has stalled for long enough, he is able to see the Legend come true (in his eyes), he knows Frieza will die, his ideology and strength have been surpassed by Goku and he no longer has much to offer.

And that's why bringing him back after his death is insane, because Vegeta has had his big sacrifice play and seen his past concluded... and yet he has to keep living. He's quick to jump to anger at Kakarot, but for a while there he is surely lost on what to do.

Frieza is dead. Nappa and Raditz are dead. The Super Saiyan has been born, his people have been avenged, he doesn't even have a need for a wish anymore.

What does he have left? Both as a character and a person, all he can offer now is rage. And so, that exactly what he does, because for a time its all he can do.

What he has left is himself, which has always been his motivating factor. He never really cared much about avenging his people, about Nappa and Raditz, or about the Super Saiyan. For Vegeta, it's always been about glorifying Vegeta.

We first started to get a glimpse of the kind of man Vegeta is when he and Nappa briefly discuss Raditz's death. Nappa wants to resurrect Raditz using the Dragon Balls but Vegeta thinks Raditz can go fuck himself.

Shortly after, they have a brief discussion about Gohan. Gohan's existence intrigues Nappa. He wants to start some sort of twisted Saiyan eugenics program to repopulate their race with Saiyans who are stronger than ever before.

Vegeta sees hybrid Saiyans as a threat to his personal glory, however, and wants to kill all humans instead.

Vegeta would rather the Saiyans go extinct than allow new Saiyans to come into existence that are stronger than him. This sets the stage for his relationship to his people's genocide.

Which he actively contributes to.

Going a step beyond refusing to revive Raditz 'cause "Fuck 'im", Vegeta kills Nappa himself.

Goku breaks Nappa's back so he can't fight anymore, which causes his existence to lose all value in Vegeta's eyes. So Vegeta personally disposes of the last remaining Saiyan besides him and the two Earthlings.

If Saiyans cannot advance Vegeta's ambitions, then what good are they?

From there, Vegeta goes to Namek and learns of the Saiyan genocide. His reaction is about what you'd expect from him up to this point.

He has no interest in revenge against Frieza for the Saiyans. He just wants to be out from under Frieza's bootheel. Vegeta's greatest ambition is to be the strongest in the universe.

Also, fun fact: He's heard of the Super Saiyan but never put any stock in this Saiyan gobbledygook. He only starts to consider the possibility once he sees Goku in his incomplete proto-Super Saiyan state.

"The Super Saiyan is fake but if it does exist THEN IT SHOULD BE ME."

Literally the first time he ever expresses any sentiment towards his fellow Saiyans is when he is actively in the process of joining them in death.

That Vegeta is dying and no longer has a future to think of seems to have done a number on his personality. This is the first time he ever even hints at caring for someone other than himself.

The thing about Vegeta is that he was very young when his planet was destroyed. In a sense, Vegeta and Goku are mirrors of one another. Neither of them are culturally Saiyans. Neither ever truly knew Planet Vegeta and its people.

They're a post-genocide diaspora, raised in other cultures by other people. Goku grew up to be culturally Earthling. And Vegeta... is culturally Frieza. He was raised in the grips of coldhearted capitalism, self-glorification, and the devaluing of people, places, and things into disposable commodities for market, and he internalized all of it.

The reason Vegeta is so different from Nappa and Raditz, so much crueler and more self-interested, is because - like Goku - Vegeta has never truly connected with his Saiyan heritage. How could he? His culture was annihilated.

Capable of reflexively dismissing his people's genocide with "LOL Fuck 'em" in the moment but then, with the honest vulnerability of impending death, admit "No, that sucks actually."

Vegeta spends the back half of the Namek arc forced into an uneasy alliance that's tearing him in half over who he is.

"You dumbass, if you had time to save me then you had time to let me die and sucker punch the enemy!" Vegeta barks at Gohan.

Meanwhile, Vegeta.

And that's after Gohan and Krillin betrayed him, too. Exposure to the Earthlings and their different ideas is getting to him. The way Gohan and Krillin treat him and each other is... it's not so much healing as deprogramming some of the things he learned from Frieza.

He's being exposed to a way of life that's different from the one he's always known, and it's affecting the way his mind interprets things like teamwork or the death of his people. The way he thinks and expresses himself.

People are complicated and much of who we are is a product of environmental factors. Change Vegeta's circumstances and you change Vegeta.

So in his final moments, killed by the same person that killed the rest of his kind, he allows himself to feel the grief that he'd previously written off as "LOL Sucks to be them!"

Pretty much the entire rest of his arc is the steady deprogramming of Vegeta, once he's stranded on Earth with no way back into space, disconnected from the toxic ideology that raised him. Having to first figure out how to take his value system he learned from Frieza and apply it to his new circumstances.

But, over time, becoming more and more of an Earthling in his own right. Learning that it's okay, actually, to care about other people. To be emotionally invested in someone besides himself.

That it's okay to live a domestic life on a planet somewhere and be part of a culture, rather than simply defining himself as a conqueror.

That it's okay to not be the strongest in the universe. That he is not a failure if he finds a mountain he cannot climb.

Even finding religion. He uses his final moments before his second death to turn to (ex-)God and ask the fate of his immortal soul.

Vegeta is a diasporic member of a dead race raised in the image of the people that destroyed his home, killed his people, and robbed him of his culture. Slowly unlearning the belief systems of colonization, consumption, and capitalist individualism that defined so much of his life, and instead discovering the beauty of people and life.

[corvus-frugilegus]

Lucanis × Non-Binary Rook - A quick exploration of first kisses but for real this time, no bailing. Also my first crack at getting his voice / internal monologue down

Their finger at last bridges the gap between his hand and their own. Finger gently sliding atop finger, tentative at first, waiting for a sign that it's intrusion is welcome.

He feels his smile tugging wider and wider at the corners of his mouth. The soft warm light of the dining hall fire rakes across Rook's face, sparkling in the soft smile that touches their eyes. Here it is. A second invitation. One Lucanis isn't quite sure he deserves. A possibility he had been doing his best to push away. Far far away from any hope that Rook might still want him the way he wants them.

But things changed in Minrathous. He'd changed. Or at least he'd started to. Started to allow himself the discomfort of being known and the unexpected comfort that came with it. Started to hope, perhaps against his better judgement, that even after seeing it all that Rook could forgive him for... Well for everything. Forgive him for ruining whatever had been growing between them.

Of course Rook would insist that there wasn't much to forgive. With a single smile they'd break apart the gathering storm of his worries.

But he didn't know how to... What to... If he could open that door again even an inch.

Lucanis spreads his fingers beneath theirs, gently weaving them through Rook's.

Start small. If it worked for Spite why wouldn't it work for Rook? Coffee and Nevarran torte. A quiet gesture, one they could easily turn away if he'd been wrong to hope. to try.

Rook had drifted so close over the course of dinner. Their companions had drifted away so easily. The pad of Rook's thumb gently moves in small circles atop his own, warm and comforting. To his surprise, Lucanis feels calm in this moment- like he has nothing holding him back, not any more, not after they've seen his worst thoughts.

The scent of a kiss good bye lingers between them. Dark, complex, and intriguing.

"How'd you put it?" Rook's eyes break from his momentarily, dipping down to his lips, their smile curling into a grin. "Honey and lavender cream?".

Lucanis leans toward them, faces getting closer to bridging the very same gap their fingers just closed. The low rumble of his voice fills the narrowing space between them "Mmm... Sweet and intriguing."

Rook tilts their head, nose brushing nose as the distance between their lips grows ever smaller "One way to know for sure...". He can feel the heat of their breath against his mouth. He knows they're waiting for him to be the one to close the gap.

To open the door he himself has been holding shut for weeks. The door he's at last allowing himself to open.

Their lips are soft against his. The kiss is gentle and slow, each touch lingering and deliberate. Lucanis's free hand finds it's way to the back of their head, fingers combing through the soft hair at the nape of their neck gently tugging them closer.

Rook presses their lips more firmly against his, parting in invitation. One Lucanis accepts without hesitation. Tongue softly greets tongue as each gets their first taste of the other. Only then does the weeks of tension between them at last over flow. The kiss deepens, where it was once gentle and sweet it is now desperate and hungry. Rook pulls themself further into him, chair scraping against the floor, knees knocking against knees as they reach for him, hand planted firmly on his shoulder.

When at last they part neither dares venture far. Forehead to forehead, panting, and all smiles.

"You know, I think I need another one. Just to be sure." Lucanis laughs.

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, here is another part of our possessive Harry rec list. If you missed them, you can find part one here and part two here. There are a ton of amazing fics on this list that we hope you'll check out. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Back Where I Belong | Explicit | 7,217 words

Harry’s trying to have a conversation with Nick, who he hasn’t seen in nearly three months, but the way Nick’s eyes keep darting over his shoulder every few seconds is quite distracting. It’s ironic, because at least a quarter of the reason that he’s even talking to Nick in the first place is because he needs a distraction. He’s all too aware of exactly what’s going on behind his back. Nick is the one who finally brings it up. “Do you think he’s doing it to spite you?” “He’s definitely doing it to spite me,” Harry answers tightly, resisting the urge to crane his neck around so he can see. He clutches his drink a little tighter, trying to keep his tenuous control over his own movements.

2) Come A Little Closer | Explicit | 9,867 words

Louis puts on lingerie. It's not, like, a thing.

3) Fuck U Betta | Explicit | 11,438 words

There’s something about having Louis like this, exposed and desperate, that makes a primal urge bubble up from deep inside Harry’s chest. Desire mixed with something else, something unquantifiable. It’s the thing that makes them want this, need this. Nothing else will satisfy them or quench their thirst.

4) Please, I'm Begging | Explicit | 13,746 words

Louis is an omega who just wants to be with Harry

5) Rendezvous | Explicit | 15,357 words

"Harry's got a date tonight." Zayn greets him. Louis misses the good old times, when people used to say hello. "Why's he got a date, Louis?" Louis has no time for Zayn's nonsense, he's late to crash Harry's date. He only came here for one thing. "I need the fur coat." he announces. "No questions asked."

6) I’m Kind Of Into It | Explicit | 19,483 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

A pair of eyes follow him, narrowed and if Louis has judged right; assessing. Trying to see if Louis has a favourite. Waiting to see if he gives it up to one of the baying crowd. He doesn't. He straightens up and moves smoothly back towards the intriguing man in the front-row seat. He hasn't moved, bar to clutch his fingers slightly around the edges of the circle-shaped seat; his thighs pushing open a little further as he tucks his ass in; showcasing his dick somewhat. The dress pants do barely anything to cover the jut of that length and Louis makes it his personal mission to make him hard. It's insulting really that he's not already there. He's been dancing for three minutes and if that isn't long enough to incite some interest then what is?

7) Play By The Rules | Explicit | 21,835 words

Fed up with the excess energy that’s wreaking havoc on his personal and professional life, Louis asks his boyfriend to dom him in the hopes that it’ll help him relax. Unfortunately, Harry is a bit of a disaster when it comes to being a dom. So, Louis decides to get creative to try and encourage the dominant side out of him.

8) Worth The Wait | Explicit | 29,262 words

In all the words Louis would use to describe a baby shower, the last one he’d ever thought to use was depressing.

9) Can’t Fool Me | Explicit | 30,162 words

AU where Louis hates fraternities and would never be into a frat boy. And one of these things is definitely not a lie.

10) Blue Songs Are Like Tattoos | Explicit | 30,739 words

“Good morning, University of California, you’re listening to KALX 90.7 FM Berkeley, this is DJ Harry Styles. If the owner of the tapes I’ve been finding around the studio doesn’t come forward and introduce himself, I’m going to continue tossing them straight in the trash!”

11) Like It’s A Game | Explicit | 32,223 words

There is little harry hates more than truth or dare.

12) All This Devotion | Explicit | 38,047 words

Louis is Harry’s work wife. The already blurry lines of their friendship are smudged further when they get caught up in a web of lies.

13) Kiss Me On The Mouth And Set Me Free (But Please Don’t Bite) | Mature | 42,036 words

Harry is the CEO of Flora Corp, Louis is his new secretary.

14) Strangers In Love | Explicit | 42,207 words

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

15) Let Your Damage, Damage Me | Explicit | 57,077 words

A low and dangerous growl was ripped from the future King’s chest. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” the alpha snarled, eyes dark and nostrils flared. Even as anger rushed through him at the alpha’s brutish display, Louis felt breathless at the intense gaze of the man that was going to be his future mate. ‘Tomorrow I’m going to be under all that. He will be inside me, all muscles and rage.’ Louis felt his cheeks heat again, but refused to be cowed. So he put his best smirk on display, the one alphas despised to see, the one that assured them all he had the upper hand. “Thought you were expecting me, dear husband. I’m your future mate.”

16) Not Afraid Of Living On A Fault Line | Explicit | 55,218 words

His eyes widened when he realized he had just somehow managed to ask Harry to hang out. Judging by Harry’s own expression, he wasn't the only one who was shocked. Louis expected him to laugh off the ridiculous request but the beta looked up at him, almost hopefully. “Are you being serious?” “Um,” was all Louis could say, feeling every bit as speechless as Harry had been earlier. “Are you?” Harry shrugged. “I’ve been told I need to get out more.”

17) These Still Waters Run Deep | Explicit | 64,602 words

Having accepted his engagement to Viscount Andrew, Louis is aware that it isn’t a love match and has no wish to be swept off his feet… until he meets the viscount’s brother, Harry, who makes him second-guess everything.

18) King Of My Heart | Explicit | 83,712 words

Harry shrugged, his shoulders brushing against Louis’. “I think since I was young, I craved that feeling, though. I didn’t always hate being a prince, but over time, certain aspects of it just bothered me so much. I remember being four years old and realizing that every person in the world knew my name, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted that. I told my mum as much and she tried telling me that being a prince is not a punishment. That it was a privilege that I should be happy about it, but no one asked me if I was. But looking up at the sky, I remember that all of this will one day mean nothing, and neither will I. All the pressure will then disappear and I could just be.” Louis stayed quiet, allowing Harry the space to open up because he knew Harry wasn’t looking for advice, but just someone to confide in. What he wished he could tell him was that in the short amount of time that he’d known the prince, in Louis’ eyes, he couldn’t be insignificant if he tried. He was brighter than every star up there in the sky. He was all Louis could look at and think about.

19) Echoes & Omens | Mature | 100,707 words

Echoes of the dead come in many forms. Their imprints forever tied to the ones who'd killed them. Louis Tomlinson is able to track the dead using their echoes, they call to him. He's used that gift to aid Scotland Yard in their investigations, with the hopes of studying Criminology at Cambridge University. He's lived a life of privilege and good fortune as a Marquess, son of the late Duke Tomlinson, with his life mapped out since day one. Until two terrible truths are revealed. One, he's adopted. Two, his biological parents are London's most notorious serial killers. Against his family's wishes, Louis travels to Chicago to uncover the truth of their incarceration. Much to his dismay, his biological mother's Lawyer, Harry Styles, wants to take his case. Together, they work to uncover what really happened all those years ago, but perhaps more is revealed than they could've ever anticipated. Trapped in a whirlwind of portents and omens, Louis and Harry find themselves pitted against an enemy they'd not foreseen.

20) You’ve Got A Higher Power, You’re Once In Any Lifetime | Explicit | 113,444 words

Giving up and letting them think they're right were never valid options in Louis Tomlinson's mind. In a society full of prejudices, finding a family and being accepted, also seemed like an unrealistic utopia. Louis sets out to do what no other of his kind ever has before and in doing so, he finds love, friendship and more about himself than he thought he would.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.