#why? part spite part intrigue
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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!
#starchild rambles#rambles#ramblings#au idea#hazbin#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel husk#husker#husk hazbin hotel#husk#alastor hazbin#hazbin alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor#overlord husk#alastor the radio demon#radiohusk#huskradio#eh you can tag as ship if you want#i'm getting into it a bit#why? part spite part intrigue#that loser baby screencap edit is done by me btw
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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:
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#cillian murphy#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy imagine#cillian murphy x y/n#tommy shelby#cillian murphy x you#cillian murphy x reader#peaky blinders#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby smut#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby imagine#thomas shelby fanfic#thomas shelby#thomas shelby smut#tommy shelby fanfiction#tommy shelby imagine#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders fanfiction
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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.
#dragon age veilguard#dragon age the veilguard#lucanis dellamorte#rookanis#rook x lucanis#lucanis x rook#my writing#khalia aldwir#dragon age fanfiction#veilguard fanfic#rookanis fanfiction
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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.
#agatha all along#agathario#agatha harkness#rio vidal#agatha x rio#agatha harkness x rio vidal#aubrey plaza#rio vidal x agatha harkness#rio x agatha#agatha coven of chaos#agatha fanfic#a3 spoilers#aaa#lilia calderu x reader#lilia x reader#lilia calderu#patti lupone#alice wu gulliver x reader#kathryn hahn#jennifer kale x reader#jennifer kale#character x reader#reader x character#agatha spoilers#agatha smut#vidarkness#agatha harkness x reader#agatha x reader#rio vidal x reader#rio x reader
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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.
✉
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x you#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x y/n#eddie fluff#stranger things eddie munson
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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.
#my writing#cod#fanfiction#reader fic#thoughts™️#ghost x reader#simon x reader#x reader#john soap mactavish#dark fic
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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
#natasha romanoff#fanfic#marvel#avengers#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha x reader#fanfiction#black widow#mcu#wanda maximoff
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Jasper the Bugbear
First story of the year and I'm giving ya'll a double decker one to set off the year right! This story feature intrigue, espionaige, fucking over the rich, and a cozy bookstore featuring a very handsome bugbear. Female Main Character: Male Monster (both cis)
The letter arrived first thing in the morning, delivered into my hands by someone who whisked away as quickly as they appeared. I had been hunkered down in this small town waiting on this for a while now.
“Geez,” I mumbled over the letter. “Who did they let write this thing?” I squinted over the paper, trying to decipher some of the illegible handwriting. I scoffed, pulling back and rubbing the bridge of my nose. I’d been restless waiting for this thing to come in. I had been placed here for a while now in an attempt to blend in. I posed myself in town, scouting things out, selling trinkets under the guise of charity. I was growing bored with it, not many of the people I had been charged with finding were the type to just go out into the market.
“Dear Caranina,” the letter started off.
“Not my name,” I grumbled. In a bit of spite, I took my own quill and scraped it out, writing ‘Carina’ over it.
“We know you have been waiting long to wehdhjfjfhshj from us. It has taken us quite a while to jshdjhkfjihf and ahdfhrjhuidhh in order to assure your mission runs smoothly.”
You scoffed under your breath. “Were they writing this letter under siege?”
“The festival coming up is the start. While the festival is important there is also a banquet the the aedkfehkjekhkdj family of the ajhdhfkjhdjkd holds every year. It is important that you Caranina-” I scratched that out again, “-must attend the jkfgkjjfeuedhus banquet. This may require you attaining a date from those on the guest list. We have provided to you a guest list, sent to us from another scout in the city.”
“Please let someone else have written that list,” Iyou muttered under myyour breath.
“We have provided it below for you.”
IYou leaned back in Myyour chair and rubbed the bridge of my nose up and down. I took in a deep breathbreat to quelel the frustration bubbling in my gut. “It’s fine. It’s fine, surely I can read one of them.”
“It is imperative you find your way into this party. We will contact you again soon with details of our target, most of which should already be known to you. Warmest regards hdfjjfdkhfeljirorhfdhjjd.”
“Great, I’ll have to tell hdfjjfdkhfeljirorhfdhjjd their hand writing sucks,” I mumbled under my breath.
Below was the supposed list of names, most, if not all of them, were illegible and wonky. I could only make out a few of them. I recognized one, a miracle in its own right. The fellow worked at a bookstore in town. Jasper Synclayr Humbeclaw, a bugbear, and a real smart guy type who seemed to have his fingers in a lot of pies and has done well for himself financially. His intellect could easily be mistaken due to his imposing figure. But I can’t help but think that is why the upper echelon like him so much. An oddity is one thing, an educated oddity is another.
I walked into his bookstore first thing that morning. It was dark outside still, the sun had risen but the clouds had not parted and were growing heavier and thicker by the moment. I could smell the rain that was to come, and I knew if it came, I could extend my visit with Jasper that much longer without it seeming odd.
“I thought I heard the bell.”
I looked up from the book in my hand to see Jasper standing there. Tall, imposing, and dressed very well. His fur was well groomed, his beard trimmed to give the illusion of an extra sharp jawline. Thick brows that gave an air of distinguished intelligence. He certainly looked the part of a bookstore keep.
“Good morning.” He set a thick stack of books down upon the counter. “Are you looking for anything in particular today?”
Just you, I thought to myself. “No, thank you.” I was at least sincere there. “I wanted to look around for a bit. I’ve always walked by the shop but I’ve never been inside.” I smiled politely, at least I didn’t have to fake much. The guild knew what it was doing, sending me in after all.
Jasper nodded, gently taking off his glass. “Yes, I’ve seen you around the last few weeks. You’ve been selling jewelry around town, haven'tahven’t you?”
“Prayer beads and religious charms,” I corrected with a bright smile. “Something to send back to the monastery.” A tiny lie. I was keeping the money.
He nodded, using a small cloth to wipe off his glasses. “What’s the monastery?”
I thought quickly. “Esmeraude Monastery. It’s far, far up north. Very snowy, very cold.” I wasn’t lying when I said it was going to Esmeraude, it’s my last name, and I did live up north as a child.
Jasper placed his glasses back on. “Sounds like a beautiful place,” he chuckled softly. “Well, don’t let me bother you. Books are meant to be perused, so enjoy yourself. Should you need any help, I’ll be around.” He picked up the stack of books and walked out behind the counter, disappearing behind a row of mahogany shelves.
Thunder rumbled outside and I smiled excitedly. The bigger the storm, the more likely I would have to linger inside. Not that I would mind, there were worse placesd to get trapped in than a bookstorebook store.
I wandered around to appear nonchalant at first. I looked through books, easing my way closer to where Jasper was working. I found him close to the back, taking books down from a shelf he was cleaning. Thunder growled low in the distance again, and Jasper turned his head slightly, spotting me.
“Sounds like a storm is coming,” he says.
“Such things do happen when one is busy,” I tutted. “I hope you don’t mind me getting caught here if it does.”
“Not at all. I would hate for a lovely lady such as yourself to get caught in that mess.” He wiped down the top of a book and sets it back upon the shelf.
I was a bit surprised by his comment. It made my cheeks flush ever so slightly. “Thank you.” I inched in even closer. “Would be a shame if the rain continued into the festival though.”
“True,” he sighed. “The people do look forward to it.” He turned a book over in his hands, inspecting the cover as if something was wrong. “Have you ever attended the festival here? It’s quite the event.” He set the book back upon the shelf after his thorough inspection.
“Afraid not. This is my first time here. I am excited to attend and see everything first hand for myself.” I reached for the exact same book as Jasper, causing our hands to collide. I notice how large his are, in comparison to mine. It shouldn’t have been surprising, after all, he stood head and shoulders over me. But his hands, to my surprise, were quite marvelous.
Jasper gently recoiled. “I beg your pardon, Miss.”
“No harm done.” I took the book, opening the pages. “Cara.”
His brow pinched.
“My name. You don’t need to call me Miss,” I chuckled.
He nodded, a slight smile appearing on his lips that curved up past his tusks. “Nice to meet you, Cara.” The way he said my name had a low, deep growl to it. My reaction of excited heartbeats surprised me.
I ducked back down into the book to hide my blush, but perhaps that would help me. “I heard someone say there was a banquet at the festival. I’m sure that's the highlight of the event.”
“Well, for some I’m sure,” he said hesitantly.
I looked up from my book. “What do you mean? Is the town full of horrible cooks?”
His smile returned, brighter and larger. He laughed and shook his head as for the first time he turned to fully face me. “There is a banquet, just for a select few I am afraid.”
“Which select?” I asked knowingly, offering him back the book in my clutches.
He took the book, his fingers brushing against mine again. “From tThe sound of your tone, I take it you can already tell.”
“The big wigs of the town have their own celebration away from the commoners?” I glanced back, seeing that rain hadhas begun splattering against the window.
“Would you want them to mingle?” Jasper said with a laugh.
A slight twinge of resentment came from that remark. Whether he was joking or trying to make some commentary, it came off wrong. “Are you suggesting the two should not? Because you are talking to the wrong person when it comes to such things.”
The hair on the back of his neck bristled, and the way his broad shoulders tensed I could tell I had struck a frightened nerve. “No I-”
“It’s a shame to me that there is such disparity as to create a sense of them and us,” I continued. “That money and class should separate people who are all the same when laid open. What good is wealth when there is suffering of your own kind? It is a shame. A sham really. A lie told to people to make them feel superior, when any number of the supposed wealthy are probably worse and more classless than the supposed brutes and commoners they’re trying to separate themselves from.”
His eyes are glassy, wide and surprised.
I huffed and shook my head. “If you let it, money will take your soul. I fully believe it!”
Jasper hung his head, looking disparaged. “I am sorry, Mis…Cara. I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.”
“You live and work in a part of the town that’s profitable, that’s marked in high regard by these elites. I suppose you wouldn’t know what to mean.”
It was quietquite for a long moment and the storm came in, with howling winds and growling thunder to fill the silence.
“You’re right,” Jasper let out a breathy laugh. “It has been a long time since I looked beyond my own comfortable place. I should know better than to joke.”
I gave him a soft look. “At least you can recognize . Iit.” There was something about him, I’m not sure, but I do think I could like him.“I hope I didn’t frighten you too badly. You looked like a kitten being barked at.”
Jasper smiled. “Hard lessons are my favorite to learn. Sometimes a fellow needs to be reeducated, I should thank you for the fright.”
My heart leapt into a quicker pace, and a genuine grin grew. Oh no. Perhaps I already do like him. “Think nothing of it,” I laughed it off. “In my line of work, it’s a constant thought.”
“I’m sure.” He knelt to get something from the floor then stood back erect. “Do you have any of your wares with you? Perhaps I could sell some here in the shop. I’ll match whatever is sold so you can send double back to your monastery.”
“Oh uh-” Guilt hit me like a sack of bricks. “No. Uhm…it wouldn’t oh-” What do I say to this? Think Cara think!
“Or-” Jasper’s tone went distant and I saw in his golden eyes that he became lost in thought. “I know there is always some sort of argument over the charities my friends give to. They’re always trying to one up each other.”
I held my breath, surely he wasn’t going to suggest what I was thinking. “Friends?” My voice cracked.
Jasper’s glance twitched my way, and his usual expression returned. “Oh sorry. The banquet coming up, there’s always some form of competition about what charity they’re giving too.”
I frowned at him and he shrugged.
“I know. It’s ridiculous. But it’s something they sincerely try to one up each other on. Perhaps you could take advantage of that.”
It wouldn’t be the only thing I’d take advantage of that evening. But wait…what? Did he really suggest it?
“Come with me. I usually don’t have a date for these evenings, so it might be fun.”
I was gobsmackedgodsmacked. How did it turn out to be that easy? I thought I’d have to seduce him first! “You’re serious?” I gawked. “You’re inviting me, just like that?”
Jasper just smiled. “If it helps your monastery.”
My gut was frothing in confusion over how to feel about this. But, I succeeded, I would be going to banquet!
“I wouldn’t want to impose.”
Jasper turned back to the shelf, loading it up with books again. “Don’t think of it that way. You’ll be my guest. I’d be honored to have such a lady as you with me that evening. Besides, I call them friends, but I do find them all quite boring.”
I bit down on my lip. “What makes you think I’m not?”
Jasper chuckled and looked back over his shoulder at me. “I have a sense about these things, Ms. Cara.”
The blush rose up to my cheeks, tingling slightly from his expression alone. I can’t catch feelings for Jasper, not when this mission is against the people he associates with. Bad move, Cara, you know better!
Despite this, I decided it would be smart to gather knowledge from Jasper. After all, if I was going to this banquet, I wanted to know what I was up for. I could gather information about him, send back some of my findings in advance. There were a few of the banquet attendees we were after, so anything and everything was helpful.
I returned to Jasper’s bookstore the next day and the next under the guise of nervousness for the party. He seemed glad to see me each day, inviting me in, chatting with me, I even helped him dust shelves and tend to misplaced books. He shared tea with me, even invited me for dinner one evening.
“I feel I am taking advantage,” I told him. It was the truth. I was starting to grow a gnawing sense of guilt. But this was my mission after all, and it was my fault for growing attached to Jasper.
“Not at all. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a friend over that I enjoyed.” Jasper filled my tea cup then returned to the stove to deal with the food.
I chewed the inside of my cheek for a moment. “You don’t like any of these people you deal with, do you?” I finally asked. “The way you’ve spoken about them recently… I’m sorry if I’ve taken this all wrong, but you don’t sound very fond of them.”
Jasper sighed heavily. “There is some truth to what you say. Most of them I know would rather take me or leave me. Some I don’t have much respect for.” He covered a pot then came to sit back down at the table with me.
“Then why associate with them?”
Jasper scoffed. “You want to know the truth? To keep them coming to the shop so I can get their money.”
I smiled despite myself. “So you’re playing the long con?”
Jasper had been raisingrising his teacup to his lips but he set it back down. “Not a con, exactly. They are getting exactly what they pay for but-” He huffed and took off his glasses. “I know if I don’t associate with them, create some sort of fashion out of the experience, I wouldn’t make ends meet, let alone maintain the life I do have.”
“A grifter then,” I teased. Under the table I felt his foot tap against my leg in a playful kick. It was a move I was not expecting, nor was I prepared for the reaction it would give me.
“We do what we can to survive,” Jasper said in a low, whisper-like murmur. “And I do not wish to go back to my former method of survival.”
This shift in tone bristled the hairs on the back of my neck. “You can’t just say things like that and not expect me to ask for a follow up.” I gave him a soft smile to urge his story forward. “What was survival for you before the bookstore?”
Jasper glanced away, his eyes flickering towards the door to the next room. He stood and waved his hand for me to follow. “I’ll show you.” He took me into a parlor-like room with nice furniture and everything was a varying shade of deep green or gold. On the wall over the stone fireplace was a sword of grand size. The blade glinted gold in the light of the fire, and the handle was wrapped up, covered by thick woven bands.
Now, I am not a strong person at all, by far I’m the weakest of my group physically. The sword on the wall was daunting for me, but I could tell it would give most members of my guild some extreme effort to raise. This was the sword of no mere fighter. No, this sword belonged to another type of creature altogetherall together.
“Your words from when we first met reminded me of what I came from,” Jasper muttered. “I was ashamed to think about what I had turned into.”
I turned my attention to his stony expression. “Don’t say that. We all make changes in life.”
“Yes but, it is a fool who forgets where they come from, Cara.” His voice becomes a low, almost angry growl.
I reached out to him, taking hold of his hand and squeezed it extra hard. He turned to me, looking at me with glassy eyes. He rubbed his large hand over his face, sniffling and trying to regain himself.
“You obviously remember,” I said to coax him.
His hand squeezed mine back. “I am forgetting something at this moment, Cara.”
I furrowed my brow and tilted my head up to him in confusion.“Which is?”
“How to be a gentleman. I almost bent down and kissed you like the ruffian I once was,” he said with a laugh.
My stomach knotted up, not in a bad way, but one of expectancy. “You could ask me.” The words poured from me, I didn’t mean to be so blunt.
Jasper chuckled, smoothed his beard into a point again. “I shouldn’t.”
I shrugged. “Try me.”
Jasper turned to face me, placing his hands first upon my shoulders then moving one up along the side of my neck and onto my cheek. His palm was so big and warm, it was amazing as he touched me. I shivered a bit, excited and conscious of what this could lead to.
“Cara,” he said with a shaky breath, “I am going to kiss you now.”
“I dare you then,” I giggled.
Jasper began to lean down towards me and I was stunned. I close my eyes, accepting his kiss. His tusks were cool against my skin, his fur was soft. I reached for him, touching the sides of his neck then slowly moving my palms over his broad chest.
When he pulled back, both of us were a touch breathless. He moved in to kiss me again, but he gasped and pulled back. I looked up angrily, but he moved off swiftly to the kitchen. “Excuse me, Ms. Cara! But our meal.”
“Oh!” I followed after him. “Right! Dinner.” I laughed as I returned to my seat at the table. I was flustered, fidgeting with my robe as I tried to distract myself from the thoughts blooming in my head. This was bad. I wasn’t supposed to be falling for Jasper. —
It was the night of the banquet, and I was considering turning Jasper down. It didn’t feel right to go. I’d made a mistake by possibly falling for Jasper. Each time I kissed him, the guilt was unbearable. It almost came to a head a few days before the kisses began turning into something much more. His storage room was small, warm, and dimly lit. I’d been helping him find a certain stash of books and we’d gotten smashed together.
His body was close, quite literally on top of mine. He was a mountain of a man, but I felt so safe, so strangely turned on by the moment. The room grew hotter, our bodies were pressed so tightly together you couldn’t fit a page between us. Jasper was hard against my hip and I was growing wet.
Jasper growled low in my ear, sending ripples through my body. He kept rutting himself into me so I could feel the entirety of him. He was thick and I could only imagine what that thing would do to me. His hands pushed up my skirt, touching bare skin, groping my rear. He growled again against my neck as his fingers slipped between my thighs. I touched him, grabbing hold of the shaft and stroking slowly. His voice became more hungry, so desperate. I wanted that voice to come out louder, deeper. I undid his pants, taking that warm, thick cock into my palm.
“Cara,” he snarled.
I nodded, breathing hard as I took both hands to hold him. “Like that?”
He grunted, pushing me into the wall as my fingers wrapped tightly around him, pleasuring him so deeply he began to shiver.
“Big thing like you could devour me, couldn't you? Those teeth…those hands…could rip me apart-” I whimpered.
“Cara-” he moaned again.
“I want you to,” I moaned, leaning up close to his face. I saw his eyes and I suddenly went still, my body was wracked with guilt. But the bell rang at the same moment, so Jasper mistook it for another kind of fear, and we left there.
I paced back and forth in my place, thinking about what I should do. If Jasper found out what I was up to could he forgive me? Would he understand? Or worse, would he hate me?
There was a knock on my door and all blood drained from my face. I approached the door, peering through a crack to try and see who was outside.
“It’s me, Cara,” Jasper announced with joy in his voice.
My mouth flopped open. “I was meeting you!” I fussed.
“I know, but I have a surprise for you.”
My guts churned. No, no, no, not a surprise you big fool! I slowly cracked open the door, peering up at him. “I’m uh…I’m not exactly ready yet, Jasper.”
Jasper had a smile that stretched past his tusks. “That’s fine. I have something for that anyways.”
I let him, silently stepping aside as he came into my room. His eyes darted around before looking back at me, his huge grin not fading. “You’re not nervous about tonight, are you?” He asked.
“A little,” I played into it.
He came to me as I closed the door, taking hold of my hand. “I’ve got you. There’s nothing to worry about. Besides, if I know anything about you Cara, it’s that you could run circles around them effortlessly.”
I smiled weakly and rubbed at my arm. “Thanks, Jasper.”
He squeezed my hand then reached into the pocket of his waistcoat. I was so nervous I hadn’t noticed how sharpley he was dressed. His fur was combed, his beard trimmed, he wore that mix of green and gold that looked so good on him. He was so handsome.
“I got you a present.” He offereda small box to me. “Something special to wear tonight.”
Why did he do this? Why did I have to hurt so badly from a small box? I took it into my hand, opening it up to see the drop earrings inside.
“They’re made from moonstone. I saw them in a shop and they made me think of you.” The moonstones were shaped like water drops, topped with silver and a single red gem in the center. They were beautiful, I loved them instantly.
“You didn’t need to do that,” I murmured.
Jasper came forward, taking one of the earrings in one hand then holding my head with the other. “I know. But the moment I saw them, I wanted to see you wearing them.”
Those words mingled with his touch made me sigh out of pleasure. He slipped the hook into my ear then stepped back and repeated it with the other ear. Jasper took a step back to look, and I saw on his face the same expression from the storage room.
“How do they look?” I murmured.
He nodded, keeping his mouth shut.
“Jasper-” my voice caught in my throat as I walked towards him. I placed my hands upon his chest. He kissed me, sweeping me off my feet. I didn’t fight it. Perhaps if we carried on we would miss the banquet and he would never find out why I was here, why I was with him.
I clung to him, leading him to believe in my desperation. I wanted him to kiss me longer, deeper, I needed him to grow just like that day in the storage room. He pulled away though and gently set me down upon the ground.
“I should let you finish getting ready,” he cleared his throat.
My mouth flopped open and closed. I then shut it tight and nodded. “Yeah. I should-” An idea struck me and I took a few steps back. “I need to change mostly.” I undid my clothing, letting it slip off my shoulders then down around my ankles. His eyes grew wide and his nostrils flared.
I smirked with some smugness as I saw the fire behind his glasses. I touched the earrings then dragged my fingers tip down my body in a slow agonizing way. His eyes lingered the entire time.
He finally jerked, looking away and putting on his airs. “Cara! What are you doing? The banquet!”
“They prefer if you’re fashionably late, don’t they?” I walked towards him, feeling less guilty if I tricked him this way. I slid my hand up his leg, rubbing my palm to his groin. “Please, Jasper?” I whispered.
He growled low, and that sound sent wicked little shivers through my body. I continued to touch him, grinding my palm into him as he began to stiffen. His strong hands gripped onto my bare shoulders and I took off his pants. I felt bad they would get wrinkled, but I needed this now. I could throw myself into passion, to desire, and forget how I’ve used him. I could tell him the truth later, once we missed the banquet and my job was ruined.
I grabbed hold of his cock, leading him over to the bed. I pushed him down upon it and crawled on top of him. He looked so beautiful all made up, and I was going to ruin that too.
“Cara, where did this come from?” Jasper gasped.
I smirked down upon him, rubbing myself against him. “From the moment I saw you.” I gasped breathlessly. “And that other day in the storage room. I’ve not stopped aching for you.”
Jasper grabbed hold of my hips, grinding his teeth the more he felt me. His deep moans echoed through my brain, driving me forward to keep going. It was working, I just hoped I could keep him entertained long enough. I looked down, taking hold of the base of his shaft. I caught his eyes, making him watch as I rubbed his tip against me. He was so thick, could I really take him?
“Easy,” he grunted.
“I’ll do as I please.” I began to lower myself down onto him. I lost my breath for a moment, then I let out a pleasurable cry. Jasper was moaning, wriggling slightly the more I took.
He was deep inside me, and I forgot everything except every touch of him upon me. His great big hands began roaming up my body, his large form was held tight underneath me, and inside me, oh by the gods, he was so deep inside me.
“I’m dizzy, Cara,” he snarled.
“Not too sensitive are you?” I said with a smirk. I circled my hips, taking him and grinding him inside me. I wanted to tease him, but it was backfiring! I’m sure I was feeling it more than he was.
“Not that…just…so long,” he grunted between breaths.
“Then maybe I should have started off with something easier,” I panted. “Maybe I should-” I started to pull away from him, knowing I had to waste my time wisely.
Jasper grabbed a hold of me and I was stunned for a moment by the force. He pushed me down on my stomach, anchoring his large body over top of me. He slid his cock between my cheeks and held his hands upon my wrist.
“Not so fast,” he chuckled with a dark tone.
“Listen to yourself,” I panted. “You almost scared me.”
His cock slipped between my thighs, rutting against me again. “You can’t just give me the sweetest treat in the world and pull it away. Let me savor it a bit longer.”
“I wasn’t.” I lost my voice and all my breath as he pushed back inside me. My smile became goofy upon my lips and I had to moan into the bed.
“Yes.” He released one of my hands in order to grab my hair. “Just give me a few moments. Oh Car-” his voice cracked. “I need to feel you.”
That was fine by me. He could have done anything to me right then and I would have been okay. It had been quite a while for me, and I wanted Jasper all this time. I trembled, squeezing tight around his shaft as he made small, gentle pushes.
“Oh fuck,” his deep voice rattled in my brain. “We’ll be so late. But you’ll be too full to eat anything at the banquet.” His other hand freed my wrist and he rose up taller behind me.
Oh my god! Why did that sound so hot?
He pushed in deeper, pulling out while his hand clapped down hard upon my ass. I cried out against the bed, it was too much, too good. He spanked me again as he pushed back inside and I laughed in a crazy tone.
He smoothed his soft palms over my cheeks, pushing them together then squeezing them. He pulled out again and rolled me over, laying me so I had to look up at him. His eyes glazed over upon seeing me, his mouth hung open slightly as drool collected around the base of his tusk.
I propped myself up on my elbows and the earrings dangled against my neck. “Jasper, I have something I need to tell you.”
He spread my thighs wide open. “I do as well.” He laid his cock against my belly, rubbing himself there.
“I…I can’t go to the banquet.”
Jasper licked his tusk. “I know. Not like this anyways.” He eased himself back inside me and I whined quite loudly.
“No…not like-” My eyes began to roll to the back of my head. “You don’t…oh!”
He pushed my head down into the bed, turning it so my ear was facing up towards him. He licked around the edge, snarling so close to me it was like my skin would vibrate off my bones.
“I need you now. I can’t stop. But I need to go to this banquet.” He bit my neck then my shoulder.
“I do too, but I-” I shivered again and my mind went blank.
“I’m an informant,” he whispered before delivering a mighty blow that rocked me, knocking around any thought I had and squashing it. My body was inflamed, tingling and crackling all over. I lost my breath, my vision for a moment.
Jasper pulled away, leaving me heaving heavily as he went to pour himself some water. He stood by the window, his back turned to me as I rose from the bed.
“Jasper-”
“These people, I need them Cara. Not in the way you think.”
I was afraid to stand up, I’m not even sure how he was. Wait…he didn’t finish! I brushed my hair out of my face. “Who are you an informant for?”
“I’ve never met them, just the fellow I meet with. But back before, back when I had nothing, they gave me the footing to start my business and live the life I wanted. I just had to pay them back. I was afraid of telling you. You work so hard…you’re such a-”
“Stop,” I snapped. I managed to stand and walk to the desk, taking out the letters I had been given about my mission. I looked them over then back at him. “I think I know who it is.”
Jasper’s thick brow furrowed when he saw the handwriting on the letters. “How do you know when you can’t even read the handwriting?”
I dropped the letters back onto the desktop and the two of us looked at one another for a long while.
“You were using me?” He asked quietly.
“At first,” I murmured. “But I couldn’t-” I shook my head and looked away. “I was trying to miss the whole evening by…by fucking you. Which I wanted to do regardless, mind you!” I looked into his eyes, seeing a smile he was trying to hide.
Jasper unbuttoned his waistcoat and took it off with his shirt. He stood naked there at the window, and I was breathless again. “Why did you?”
I couldn’t tell if he was mad. “Because I-” I took a step closer to him. “Because I care. A lot actually.”
Jasper took hold of me and set me upon the windowsill. “We’re working together now,” he whispered, gently pushing aside my hair and burying his face into my neck. “Informant and spy.” he eased himself back inside me and I wrapped my legs around his waist.
The glass was cold against my back, but I could barely tell it was there. I still wasn’t sure if he was angry, but his body and mine melted together and I could sense he was nothing if not elated. I grasped onto him, letting him do as he wished to come. I wanted him to. I needed him too.
At the banquet I was a bit delirious. I gazed off into the distance, but Jasper snapped me back into attention.
“Remember why you’re here,” he whispered.
“Right, donations.” I drank a dark red punch filled with berries and nectar. “I’m still trying to process this.”
He smirked. “What, our lovemaking?”
I hissed at him then looked over the crowd. “No. That’s your the-” I held my breath as some people walked by us. “The you-know-what.”
“You still have to apologize for trying to use me,” he said with a smarmy tone. “But I’ll forgive you.”
I pouted up at him, setting my glass down as a group gathered around us. Jasper was listening, taking in everything while I put on the show and did the work. I managed to make quite a bit of coin off these fools as they tried to one up themselves.
“You should come to my home, I can donate a lot of old knick knacks around the house my wife keeps collecting,” one man blurted out without much thought.
To my chagrin, it was one of the men I needed to get close to. I reached back, taking hold of Jasper’s hand. “I would be honored, sir!”
I got more invites after that, others who continued to try and show off to each other rather than try to perform a good act. As they dissipated when the music began, I took Jasper’s hand and kissed each soft pad on his palm.
Jasper took the bite of food he was eating and set it aside. “What was that for?” He chuckled.
“A small start to our victory.” My expression melted as I looked up at him. “If you still wish to work with me, that is.”
He took my hand as well, kissing it in return. “Partners from here on out. Like it was all meant to be.”
#exophilia#monster boyfriend#monster romance#monster lemon#monster lover#writing#monster x human#monster x female#bugbear#bugbear boyfriend#monster fuqqer#monster kink#monster smut#momolady monsters#my writing
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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?
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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.
#da4 spoilers#dragon age spoilers#veilguard spoilers#lucanis dellamorte#spite dellamorte#embria aldwir#rookanis#himluv's writing tag
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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!
#soulsov#soul of sovereignty#indie games#deltarune#long post#i'm not saying everything i want to say here but#i need you to discover the rest and leave a nice review#ok??#i love it
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[ @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."
#pokemon monochrome#pkmn monochrome#missing numbers#glitchy red tajiri#trainer cody#mn noncanon#glitching#eyestrain#scopophobia#[cody im so sorry you have to deal with this joker. im so so sorry. this is my apology video#literally whats his problemmm (<- guy who made him like this)#anyways god i hope this is good akndjalns. red got picked for this bc thisll probably have um. interesting. results. probably.#i wanted to draw cody more but i have no clue what their reaction to (gestures) this asshole will be yet#and also im so tired rn...... next time theyll get more face shots this is a promise. theyre so fun to draw#i was planning 2 add more panels with them but. imsdo fucking sleepy n wanted to get this done. gooooodnight]#[ALSO HUGE THANKS AGAIN FOR THE BGS i hate drawing this graveyarddd]
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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.
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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.
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As callum is double the size of Austin and quite a bit taller, how do you think this affected the way bucky and buck were portrayed on screen? I know there's also a lot of physicality in acting and I found it interesting that in certain scenes - like when they're fighting with the British at the table, or at that party where bucky has a tense moment with his superior, or when bucky gets up and starts singing - that he seems like someone buck can be quiet behind, he can watch him go and be amazed/amused at what he might do and whilst all the noise happens around bucky remain in his own seemingly preffered quietnes. Buck also watches bucky a lot too, like he is as intrigued with this larger than life character as we are - until he needs to step in lmao.
Not to say a smaller person can't be formidable, after all I think callum is distinctly bigger than the real life Eagen, but for Apples interpretation of MOTA it fits that bucky is this bull of man. It makes the moments -like that super tense moment when crank says 'the people we're bombing didn't shoot down buck' or when Bucky walks into the bar after bucks been shot down and tells everyone they don't have to guess why he's come back and slaps a bill down, or when he won't give that nazi anything but his number - all the more tangible for us watching at home.
The use of callums size is very, very wonderfully executed imo and kudos to callum and the directors for that because I think it can be so easy to end up being a caricature of some tough guy JUST because of size as opposed to being tough in spite of it, that's the balance of physical acting imo you can shoe horn any buff actor into a role but it's how secondary his size is to Buckys rage of emotions that makes it impactful, it's wielded like an accessory to an already formidable character.
I also think it shows in callum and austins friendship like Austin in their interveiws is very content often to simply relax and laugh and watch and listen, he said they're cut from the same cloth and callum said their personalties are similar to buck and buckys I.e. introvert and extrovert but they're kindred spirits. - sorry this was long but I find the art of acting so fascinating when it's done well. And the phycality of buck and bucky is to me really well done and an important part of how they understand each other
Callum is only 2 inches taller than Austin! He's just....big. he's just broad. Austin is much more trim and it makes the difference look extreme but they are in fact very similar in height!
I think from what we know the real John Egan had a very similar bombastic personality lmao. I don't think they were really factoring in Callums height or size into the casting so much as his physicality. He plays the cocky self assured pilot so well. and one thing we know about John Egan was that he was one cocksure motherfucker
^ his POW with a very cocky popped collar.
I do agree that Callum injects a lotta physicality into his roles. i can spot him from a few pixels just by the way he walks. I think it's what lends to his charisma on screen but I also think yes it is virtue of being a big guy. he's got a lotta limb and a lotta body of course he's gonna use it in his acting, of course he's someone whos probably grown up being very aware of his size. Bet he bashed those long arms a lot on things before he learned how to control himself lol. I think of course he is quite physically intimidating in scenes where he needs to be and his size lends to it but it's just the simple fact of him being a big guy.
Austin is shy and an introvert and hates talking about himself, but loves talking about things other than himself. and Callum is willing to talk about anything lol. He seems like one of those guys who kinda has a thought on every subject. It's no wonder they mesh well, they're both deeply thoughtful guys and it seems like Callums open personality smooths the path for Austin really well. I doubt they have many awkward silences between them due to Callum being Callum
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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.
#rook x lucanis#rookanis#datv fic#lucanis dellamorte#idk how people tag fic in this fandom 🫡#man do I love writing the inner world of a man spiralling though#rook and crow#lucanis dellamorte x rook
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