#He will later realize what it is and also that he feels the same about Taka. but in the meantime-

[allywthsr]

FIRST RACE WIN | (l.norris)

summary: Lando wins his first race

wordcount: 1k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: none

notes: wrote this in 10 min, might delete later and rewrite it

Miami. The first thing that came to your mind was the heat and the money that this city had, but after tonight, this city will hold a different memory, the memory of your boyfriend winning his first Grand Prix.

You woke up in the morning with a burst of energy, Lando wasn’t as energetic, he crashed in the sprint, his qualifying wasn’t the best, and he didn’t expect anything big for today. He ate breakfast with slumped shoulders, every few seconds he let out a sigh, and you tried to get him into a better mood, but whatever you did, nothing helped.

“Today is the day for new opportunities”, that’s what you told him this morning, trying to get him excited.

If he had the opportunity to call in sick for work, he would’ve.

The race started, and it didn’t look the best for Lando, it annoyed him even more that Oscar had an even better start, not only was he one (sprint) race win ahead of him, but he also was chasing for p1 now, while Lando had to pass several cars to be close to him.

You sat in the garage, feeling the normal race jitters and crossing your fingers, you would always be proud of Lando, no matter what he did, but you had a good feeling for today.

The first laps were going by fast, Lando was fighting for every position, and Oscar was fighting for P1, after some more difficulties from Max, Oscar was racing to keep his leader position. You knew what Lando was thinking, how this would be a normal race if he got lucky, p3 and if he was even more lucky, maybe a p2, but not the real thing, Lando felt too disappointed in himself.

After the crash with Sargent, and Lando pitting during the safety car, you knew this would be it. Max was losing more and more time behind him, and couldn’t catch up with Lando. He was flying today, getting the fastest lap almost every time he crossed the finish line. The more laps passed, the more excited you got, holding hands with Jon, who stood next to you. When it was safe to say, that Max wouldn’t be able to catch Lando and overtake him, you were walking up and down through the garage, a TV camera was on you constantly, showing you on the screen how you nervously were trying to get rid of your nerves, but to your dismay, you didn’t.

During the last lap, you were watching the screen through your fingers, too scared that he would crash on the last meters. You’ve been in this position before, you don’t want to think about Sochi, but you were scared he was going to repeat this nightmare, thank god it wasn’t about to rain anytime soon.

When Lando crossed the finish line in P1, you fell to your knees with your hands in front of your face, crying. This was his dream, and you were so incredibly lucky to experience that dream with him.

Before you could continue to cry, Jon lifted you off the ground and dragged you up, hugging you tightly before running with you to where you would wait for Lando.

You stood behind that barricade and waited for your boyfriend to come get congratulated, you watched on the big screen how he got out of his car and you saw him take a deep breath. Carlos being the first to congratulate, was such a carlando thing, but now you couldn’t wait to be in his arms. Your tears were still rolling down your cheeks, and no matter how much effort you put into wiping them off your cheeks, new ones were coming by the second.

After what felt like days, you finally saw Lando running towards you.

You opened your arms and waited for the impact that was about to hit you, with the speed he was running at you. He closed his arms around you, and you did the same, squeezing him tightly and muttering: ‘congratulations’ over and over again. You heard him sobbing, he probably didn’t even realize what he had just done, he was shaking and when he lifted his head off your shoulder, his eyes were red and tears were spilling out of his eyes with no control, but you were no different.

You could wait for all the memes and pictures you were about to see on social media, you and Lando were crying messes, the kiss you shared after hugging for what felt like hours, tasted like tears and happiness. You couldn’t believe he was a race winner now.

His team celebrated him the perfect way, throwing him in the air and hugging him close. The hugs he shared with Zak and Andrea, warmed your heart, you knew how much he meant to these two and vice versa.

After the interviews where he thanked his family, but especially you, for always supporting him no matter what, he was driven to the podium, just like you and the rest of the McLaren team, you had to see him lifting that trophy.

When he came out running, even more tears spilled out of your eyes, you knew you were an emotional mess, and it would stay like this for the rest of the day. And the way Lando was wiping away the tears while listening to the British hymn, you knew he was no different, especially hearing the Lando chants from every direction, you all knew, this was long overdue.

He threw his trophy in the air, and you were scared he was going to break it, but he safely caught it and pointed to his heart and then at you. This was cheesy, but at this moment, he was allowed to do whatever he wanted. He felt like the king of the world.

Popping the champagne was always your favorite part, and with the way Charles and Max were drenching him in the liquid, you knew you would be soaked in it too, after some more hugs, which followed immediately after he came down from the podium.

The rest of the day was spent partying and celebrating Lando and McLaren, you were incredibly proud of him and what he achieved today.

taglist: @millinorizz @jamieeboulos @loxbbg @noneofyourfbusinessworld @myownwritings

[grandline-fics]

Hi can i request a Luffy x fem!reader where the pair are just two dumb idiots together like the reader has a personality like his (overly enthusiastic and optimistic) and they do everything together but they both dont realize that the like eachither (bc again dumb idiots) and the crew works tgt to make them both realize and get them to confess to eachother?

DESCRIPTION: You’re just as clueless as Luffy and the crew have to intervene to make you both realise your feelings

WARNINGS: none

CHARACTERS: Luffy

WORDS: 1,734

A/N:  Thank you for this request. I honestly didn't know how to make this work in the beginning but I'm happy with how this fell into place. Hopefully you like what I came up with

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

Once upon a time the Strawhat crew believed that their Captain was one of a kind. They took his energetic nature, clear motivation to only do what he wanted as his current mood directed without any thought beyond that, stubbornness, and still unwavering joy in the face of most things as the concoction that could only be Luffy. However they were all collectively shocked when you crash landed into their lives and promptly made them realise that everything that made Luffy his loveable yet exhausting self was also very clearly what made you you too and when you and Luffy first interacted it was like two points finally connecting, never to separate. 

All their adventures before you came along seemed like such a breeze, how naive they had been in those days to consider it difficult to keep up with Luffy’s optimism and spontaneity. After you joined the crew if felt like double the work. It didn’t matter if they had eyes on one of the chaotic pair you two created because without the vigilant supervision over both of you, it only assured a disaster that could have been avoided. It never mattered to you or Luffy because at the end of the day you two would be laughing and telling the drained crew that it had worked out in the end and that there had been nothing to worry about. After a while it wasn’t the lack of thought to the crew and their wants of an easy time on an island to explore that frustrated them, it was the fact that you and Luffy still hadn’t realised you had feelings for each other and continued to act like oblivious morons every single day while also so clearly showing them and anyone else you interacted that you were two idiots in love. 

“They’re doing it on purpose.” Nami muttered one day, arms folded tightly across her chest as she glared at you and Luffy running about the deck of the Sunny, laughing and chasing Chopper without a care in the world. Suddenly Luffy grabbed one of the masts and propelled himself through the air. Chopped managed to dodge but you ended up being the one Luffy tackled loudly onto the ground. There was a beat of silence before the two of you burst out into loud laughter once more, doing nothing to move out of the position you were currently in. “They have to be doing it on purpose. They’re evil geniuses.”

“Don’t give them so much credit. They’re both just blind to how they really feel.” Zoro disagreed from his spot in the shade, opening his good eye to look you and Luffy’s way. “Don’t know how many times the stupid cook and I have brought it up. Luffy just believes he loves them the same way he loves us as his crew.”

“Oh no, that’s a very different kind of love compared to what he feels for us.” Usopp said with a small shake of his head. He supposed that the only reason this whole matter hadn’t been resolved yet was because of your personality. Anyone else would have been more aware of the difference and clear feelings and actually talked things out with their Captain. Everyone seemed to let out a collective sigh of exhaustion and resignation. All of them wishing-more for their own selfish peace of mind more than anything- there was something to be done and help you both realise your feelings.

It wasn’t until a week later that the crew stopped at a new island to relax and enjoy while they waited for the Log Pose to set. While some took to resupplying the ships, others took to exploring. You weren’t exactly annoyed that you hadn’t gone with Luffy, you were just confused at why Usopp and Nami insisted on you joining them on their shopping trip and no one else coming with them. Had they had a fight with some of the others on the crew that you weren’t aware of? You certainly hoped not, you didn’t like the crew fighting amongst themselves. 

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Nami whispered to Usopp as they remained a couple paces away from you. Operation: Divide and Conquer might have had a good name but the strategy didn’t seem all that good except try and get you to confess to Luffy by either making you jealous or straight up lying. If they couldn’t get through to you, they would try the same tactic with Luffy.

“It has to!” Usopp hissed back, quickly throwing you a nervous smile when you looked over your shoulder with a curious tilt of your shoulder. “Hey let’s go in here!” He called out in a panic, pointing to the closest store. You stopped and shrugged, going along with whatever the sniper wanted. You had nothing to buy on this trip so you were just here for company and fun. Still this wasn’t what you’d thought would be on his or Name’s shopping list.

“Is someone getting married?” You asked, looking around the store filled with elegant gowns, robes and suits. Suddenly your eyes lit up as you hurried to hug Nami and Usopp tightly, so this was why they had insisted on you coming with them. You couldn’t fully understand why they were being so secretive but it didn’t matter given how overcome with happiness for them. “You guys! I’m so happy for you both! Have you told the others?! Are you getting married on the island?” 

“WHAT?! NO! ” Nami blurted out in shock while Usopp could only shriek at the implication. “We’re not getting married!”

“Oh…that’s a shame.” Your smile fell slightly. “I always thought you two made a nice couple. Guess I was wrong. So who is getting married?” You asked, staring intently on your friends who stammered and struggled to think of something. Operation: Divide and Conquer was crashing and burning around them and their brains all but blanked as together they rambled together while you patiently listened. Neither of them really knew what they’d told you or knew if it made any sort of sense but you seemed to accept it and continued with your day with the frazzled pair.

When you returned to the Sunny later that day you went to your usual perch of the railing near Sunny’s head. Silently you thought over what Usopp and Nami told you and were beginning to work it out in your head when Luffy appeared beside you with a bright grin. “Hey, what’s got you so frustrated looking?” He asked, oblivious to the rest of the crew on the deck; all of them pretending to go about their business when they were only making sure they were close enough to hear. 

“I’m thinking about Usopp.” You explained in a dazed tone, absently running your fingers along your bottom lip, deep in thought. Luffy frowned slightly while different sets of eyes glanced Usopp’s way, all confused about what he and Nami did while they were alone with you. “I’m trying to work out this wedding.”

“Usopp’s getting married?” Luffy asked. On the one hand he was happy but on the other hand he thought Usopp would have told him personally. “To who?”

“That’s what I’m trying to work out.” You mumbled before taking a deep breath, deciding to start from the beginning. “Usopp’s enemy wants him to marry their princess to avoid a great battle but he doesn’t want a fight or to get married so he needs to make them think he’s already married so they don’t get angry right? He needs Sanji to cater the wedding, Brook to preform the music, and Zoro to be his bodyguard so they’re out. Nami said because she’s giving Usopp the money for the wedding that’s the only favour she’s doing and won’t marry him as well because that’s not fair. Usopp said he can’t marry Franky or Robin because they’re like his parents and Chopper’s a reindeer and that’s weird. Which leaves us.” 

The more you explained the situation the more Usopp and Nami shrank towards the floor out of despair and embarrassment. Why had you believed that nonsense enough to now relay it to the entire crew who were now looking at them in bafflement. Through it all Luffy hadn’t taken his eyes off of you. He didn’t want Usopp to be forced to be married to someone he didn’t like but it didn’t stop him from quickly turning on his heel and looking to his friend. “Usopp I’ll marry you!”

“You can’t marry me dumbass!” Usopp shouted back making Luffy glare, all but standing in front of you to block you from Usopp’s stare.

“Well you’re not allowed to marry them. So it’s me or the princess.” Luffy told him with defiance in his eyes.

“Why can’t he marry me?” You asked curiously while getting to your feet, watching Luffy blink as he only now considered his fierce sense of protectiveness and possessiveness towards you. 

“Because I don’t want him to?” He suggested with a shrug. “I don’t want you to marry him, I don’t like it.”

“Well I don’t like you being married to Usopp.” You added, voicing your own reluctance and unhappiness at the thought of Luffy marrying…well anyone. There was a silent exchange between you and Luffy as though you were communicating in your own way through a look alone. Together you both grinned with a faint blush creeping across your cheeks as you both whipped your head towards Usopp and declared in unison.  “Usopp you’re marrying the princess.”

While it hadn’t been the grand romantic epiphany the crew had been expecting to witness, they could tell that a shift between you both had occurred. There was something a little more intimate between you both while you both remained your happy, energetic selves. No one on the crew had the heart to tell either of you that Usopp had been completely lying about the arranged marriage so they never mentioned it again. They were however all in agreement that if it ever was brought up it was to be brushed aside and explained as a story Usopp had been thinking of writing and nothing more. But from the looks of things slowly developing between you and Luffy they could all see that it was shaping up to having a happily ever after.  

[sanguineterrain]

Sanne can we get a part 2 for reporter!reader?? Picking up where it first left off their first night in the same home - and there's only 1 bed! - and reader shares the bed with him with the promise of not looking at his unmasked face in the middle of the night? And like them realizing over the next few days that they have very similar habits like tendencies to work throughout the night once they've got a lead and not having a set sleep schedule/unconventional sleeping hours.

OKAY HERE WE GO! be fed my lovelies <3 didn't exactly do one bed but hopefully you like it anyway ;) pt 2 of this

jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. nightmares, hurt/comfort, jason sexy mf todd being a domestic dreamboat. 2.4k. pls enjoy

****

The Red Hood's apartment is... not at all what you expected.

It looks lived in. It, as awful a thought as it is, looks like an actual person lives here.

And it's not that you didn't know that Hood has a life outside of shooting and scaring, but the giant ficus and the overstuffed bookshelf seem paradoxical to everything you know about Hood.

You're realizing that you don't know him at all.

"So, uh." Hood awkwardly gestures to the apartment. "This is it. Welcome."

"It's nice," you say, stepping over the threshold. "Really nice. I'm a little jealous, Red."

"What can I say? Being public enemy number one is surprisingly lucrative."

You wander to the kitchen. There's a picture of him and a red-headed masked man who looks vaguely familiar. The man is smiling, his arm around Hood. There's a city skyline behind them you don't recognize.

"Where's that?" you ask. You don't expect him to answer.

"Morocco."

"I didn't know you had friends," you say, studying the Welcome to Vegas! magnet that's holding up the picture.

"Ouch."

"No, I—" You turn, shaking your head. "Sorry, no. I meant, like, people you do fun things with."

"Mm, yeah, I know what a friend is."

"Red, you know what I mean. I didn't know you took selfies and kept plants and read."

"Thought I was friendless and illiterate, huh?" He leans against the kitchen table, fist tucked under his helmet. "Y'wouldn't be the first."

"Hood—"

He snorts, shoulders shaking. You stop.

"That's not funny," you say, rolling your eyes. "Jerk."

"It's a little funny. You're always so sharp with your words, smartypants. No, while I'm very literate, friends are admittedly far and few. Arsenal's my closest friend."

"Is he also a crime lord?"

"Nah. Way better guy than me."

You look back at the picture and wonder how often Hood gets to experience joy. And when was the last time he had a vacation?

You feel a gentle tug at the back of your jacket.

"C'mon. You can snoop more later, promise. Lemme show you your room."

Hood takes your suitcase before you can protest. You follow him down the hall. There's one door to the bathroom—the other is to a single bedroom.

The bedroom is nice, bigger than yours at home. It's sort of what you expected (i.e., the mounted katanas on the wall) but also not (a giant framed poster of the 2005 Pride and Prejudice film).

Holy hell. You're in the Red Hood's bedroom.

"Hood, I can't sleep here," you say, watching as he puts your suitcase in the corner.

The bed has been made, sheets tucked in without a single wrinkle. They're in various shades of red. You're sure Hood thinks he's hilarious.

"Why? If the swords are putting you off, I can move 'em."

"No, it's—I can't take your room, Hood. There's no way I'm doing that."

He shakes his head. "No, trust me, it's for the best. That couch is only comfortable to sleep on after a dose of painkillers."

"Dude, I am not making you sleep on the couch in your own house."

"Well, dude, I'm the host, and I'm the big and scary Red Hood, so what I say goes."

"Like either one of us actually believes that," you say, brushing past him to grab your suitcase. "I'm not kicking you out of your bed. It's–it's very sweet of you to offer. But you physically exert yourself every day. You need a comfortable bed more than I do. Besides, it's not like I'll be here for long."

Hood steps in front of you, casually blocking your exit.

"Well, try this on for size: my room is more secure than my living room," he says. "If someone were to break in, they'd have to get through me out there first."

That... is, unfortunately, a good point. You're still extremely paranoid after the assassination attempt two nights ago.

"You're so manipulative, y'know that?" you grumble, leaving your suitcase where it is.

"I know. I come from a real fucked up family." He doesn't sound too put out by it.

"But if you get injured on patrol, I'm sleeping on the couch."

He pats your shoulder. "'S cute you think you can bargain in my house, smarty."

****

Dinner goes well. Hood makes beef bolognese and it's delicious. You take an extra long time in the bathroom before bed so Hood has enough time to eat, considering his refusal to remove his helmet. You'd offered to blindfold yourself—he'd just laughed.

"Sure you don't want your room? It is, after all, yours," you say when you come out, fresh from your shower.

Hood glances at you briefly from where he's washing dishes. He's out of his jacket and suit, now only in jeans and a white t-shirt. Your face feels hot for some reason.

"I'm sure. Cute robe."

"Oh." You look down at the Wonder Woman robe your friend gave you. "Thanks. Got it for my birthday."

"I'll have to get myself one too," Hood says, drying a glass with a polka dot tea towel. "Big Wonder Woman fan."

"Yeah? We solve this case, and I'll get you all the robes you want, Red."

"Tempting."

You chew your lip as you watch him clean up. "Want any help?"

"Go to sleep, star reporter." He sounds amused.

"You try to be a polite guest only to get shot down..." you mumble, heading to your room.

On your way there, you get distracted by a pile of documents on the coffee table. You stop, picking up the corner to read one. They're about the case, about all the labs that might be involved in the experiments.

Well... you can read just one. It seems like Hood's compiled a lot of information on his own.

You stand for a bit until your legs grow tired. Then you sit on the couch, making notes of what you do and don't know on a nearby writing pad.

"Did you get lost on your way to the bedroom?"

Hood's watching you, leaning against the wall. It's weird to see his bare arms. His very sculpted, muscled arms. You think you peek a tattoo on his bicep.

"My attention was caught," you say, unrepentant. "Anyway, there's a lot of stuff I haven't seen. You've been holding out on me, Red."

"'S just theories, mostly. Didn't feel it was relevant to mention without hard proof."

"Ever hear of a work-life balance?" you ask.

Hood walks over and joins you on the couch, making the cushion dip. You bump shoulders briefly, before you move.

"Look who's talking, Pulitzer prize," he says.

"That's a very reasonable goal, and I'm not obsessed with it. You're just a workaholic. I have activities outside of wo—oh my God, work!"

You shoot up from the couch, panicked. "Fuck. Fuck! I haven't shown up in two days! I'm—"

"Hey, easy," Hood says, propping his socked feet up on the coffee table. "I called you out. Said you had the flu. No biggie."

"How did you call me out?"

He shrugs. "Pretended to be your boyfriend. Girl on the line was kinda rude about it. Didn't believe me at first."

"Red, I believe we've talked about these invasions of privacy."

"I'm just fulfilling my host duties. Is it true you haven't taken a day off in two years?"

You sigh. "Yes, okay? Fine. I'm a workaholic, too. That's why Jane, the secretary you spoke to, was so sassy about my having a boyfriend. It's pretty unbelievable."

"That's ridiculous. You could totally get a boyfriend. Some guys don't mind that."

"Like you?"

Hood tilts his head in acknowledgment. "Sure. Like me."

"Yeah, well, you're not exactly most men."

"And thank God for that."

You look at each other for another moment. Hood's tattoo is in clear view now: it's a bird surrounded by flowers. You can't tell the species of either one.

"Cool tattoo," you say, your tongue feeling too big for your mouth.

Hood turns his arm so the ink is hidden. "Thanks."

"Right." You start to walk backwards. "I think... I'm gonna go to bed."

"Sure," he says. "If y'need anything, holler."

"'Kay. Thank you for dinner. You're a great cook."

"You flatterer."

You smile. "Gotta stay in the Red Hood's good graces."

You start to walk away.

"Do you—waffles?"

You stop and turn. "Sorry?"

"I, uh... do you like waffles? For breakfast," he says. He rubs his thumb and forefinger together. Nervous habit.

"I love waffles for breakfast."

Hood nods. "Great. Good. Then I'll... we'll have those."

"Please don't wake up early just to make breakfast, Red."

"You're my guest. I'll do whatever I want."

You don't recall the prospect of waffles ever making your heart hammer in your chest. Weird.

"Well, goodnight," you say.

"G'night, smarty."

****

You turn the case details in your mind over and over. It's better than thinking about beef bolognese and peeks of skin you shouldn't see and how Hood's sheets smell like lavender.

But you fall asleep thinking about robins. You don't know why. You can't recall ever seeing a robin in Gotham.

You're on a rooftop. It's the roof you met Hood on, all those months ago. There's a robin nesting with its babies on the crumbling bricks.

The sky is a sick shade of green. You see horrible faces in the shadows on the roof.

That face from the night of the attack returns. He's hideous. You remember the stench of his breath, the way his eyes bulged. He grins at you across the roof.

"He should've killed me when he had the chance," he says, voice distorted.

You look around. The robin is gone. Blood drips from your stomach.

You turn and your attacker is there, inches away. He plunges the knife into you again and again. You can't move. This is it. You will die.

You wake up to wet cheeks. You're hot, and you're screaming. You've died.

A cool, rough hand grabs your arm and you fight because you can't die, you won't die. Not today.

"Hey. Hey, hey! It's me, 's J—Hood. It's Hood."

The room is almost entirely dark, save for a sliver of light from the cracked curtains. You can't make out his face. His voice is different. Clearer. He's without his helmet.

You reach out and feel soft hair. The curve of a neck. A bicep. A warm, bare chest.

"Sure, honey. Cop a feel if that makes you feel better," he murmurs.

Your face screws up and you start to cry.

"Shit," Hood whispers. "Shit, shit. Can't get the comforting thing right, can I?"

The bed dips with his weight. Arms wrap around you. You launch yourself into those arms, that solid chest.

"He g-got me in the dream," you choke out. "He killed us, Red. I'm so scared."

"Nobody's getting me or you. I promise."

Hood's jaw is smooth. His hands are big on your back, rubbing circles. His bare knee bumps yours.

You clutch him tighter. He hums.

"'S okay," he says. "It's alright. I got ya. He can't hurt you. I'd tear apart anyone who tries."

He lets you cry for several minutes, petting you all the while. Hood's body is warm, almost unnaturally so, but his hands are cool. He engulfs you completely.

You wonder what color his hair is. His eyes. What shape his nose is. His... lips.

"God, I'm a terrible guest," you mumble after you've caught your breath. "Fuck. I'm so sorry to wake you."

He hums, the sound going through your chest. "Don't worry. I don't sleep much. And you're not the worst guest I've had. My brother stayed with me for a few days last month. That was hell."

"You have a brother?"

"Four, actually. And a sister."

"Wow. Do they know you're...?"

"Yeah. It was a whole thing. They're over it now."

"Cool family."

Hood grunts. "They're... something."

You smile and close your eyes. "You're not who I thought you were, Red."

"Yes, I know. Friendless and illiterate."

You pinch his side. He clucks his tongue in response.

"Cheeky," he says, the gravel in his voice shooting down your spine like lightning.

You pull back, suddenly aware of how long you've been touching him. Hood lets you have your space, scooting to the edge of the bed.

"You know what I mean," you say, glad it's dark and Hood can't see your wide eyes. "Not like that."

"I know. You thought I was a monster, ugly and alone, sleeping in a cave."

Blindly, you reach for his face, feel the shape of his jaw, his chin.

"Doesn't feel like an ugly face to me," you say quietly.

He exhales like you punched the air out of him.

"Trust me," he says. "The dark hides a lot."

You frown and pull away. "I didn't think any of those things, Red. I thought... I thought you were one-track minded. Now I realize that you're probably better adjusted than I am."

"Oh no, I got issues. Believe me. Definitely more than you. Not that it's a competition. 'Cept if it was, I'd win."

You smile. "Title is all yours, big guy. Gotta be a little crazy to do what we do."

"Sure. But you're the bravest soul I know. 'Cause you weren't forced into this. You hunted down the story yourself."

"Brave or stupid?" you ask.

"Brave. But it's a fine line."

Nope. It's definitely more stupid than not, clinging to the Red Hood in his own bed in the name of a case.

What are you doing?

"Ah, anyway." The bed shifts as Hood stands. You can just barely make out the shape of him. "You probably won't be going back to sleep any time soon, huh?"

You sigh. "No, probably not. Please feel free to take back your bed."

"Nice try. You, uh... like hot chocolate?"

"Oh. Yes, I do. But you don't have to do that."

"I've been awake," he says. "No trouble. C'mon."

Hood walks to the door and opens it. Light spills out and for a moment, you have a clear view of his back.

His hair is dark and wavy. His back is covered in silver scars and fresh bruises, broad and muscled. You can see the tendons shift as he walks out.

The Red Hood is a man. Made of flesh and blood. Carved, more like.

Your belly flutters. Fuck.

This is no longer just you working a case. And you're about as far from an informant as anyone can be.

[julesdaydreams]

Hopelessly devoted to you

@rosekillermicrofic II May 4 - hopeless II word count: 804

fluff, fluff, just so much fluff <3

One thing about Evan Rosier?

He was absolutely and unquestionably hopeless for his best friend, Barty Crouch Jr.

It started when they met at 11 years old. Evan had taken one look at the other boy causing mayhem on their first day at school and he instantly knew that this boy would be his best friend.

What followed were three years of Evan going above and beyond when it came to Barty. Skipping classes with him, letting him copy their homework, pranks, long nights awake on the same bed just talking and talking - Evan did it all and he did it happily.

He was fourteen by the time he realized his feelings for Barty went beyond your usual best friend relationship. That maybe it wasn't normal to do everything your best friend asked of you in a heartbeat and if Barty would jump off a bridge, Evan wouldn't hesitate to follow him.

He spent another three years hopelessly in love with Barty, pining after the other boy while he explored his sexuality in every way possible.

Evan died a little every time Barty kissed someone else, everytime he saw a sock on the doorknob, everytime he spent his time alone because his best friend was elsewhere occupied.

He tried to stop giving Barty everything - including his heart. Tried dating, tried having a casual hookup that he had to break off before the boy could even get to his underwear because his whole body recoiled at the thought of letting anyone touch him like that.

No matter what he did, it always came back around to Barty. Wirh his mischievous eyes and chapped lips that Evan had spent too many nights thinking about kissing.

He had resigned himself to never getting over Barty in their last year at school. Had found peace in being just his best friend and nothing more. His heart ached everyday but at this point it was a familiar feeling amd he welcomed it. Was glad to know he loved his best friend and would until his last breath.

This is why he didn't know what to do with himself the moment the impossible had happened and Barty told him that he loved him.

It was a random day, Evan had been lying on his bed, getting an assignment done that was due the next day when Barty came barreling in through the door, looking disheveled, a frantic look in his eyes that had Evan in alert almost immediately.

And then - completely out of the blue - he said the one thing Evan could've never predicted.

“I love you, Rosie.”

And Evan had blinked, had needed Barty to clarify, needed reassurance that he wasn't dreaming, that this moment was real and Barty really loved him and he wasn't fucking with Evan.

And when he finally got that reassurance, when Barty looked so beautiful right there in their room, heart in his hand and offering it to Evan with quivering hands, Evan jumped up from his place on the bed and closed the small space between them to crash their lips together.

It was everything Evan every dreamed of and more.

Now, five years later, of which they've lived four together in a flat in london - that wasn't very big or impressive but it was theirs - Evan thought back to those moments of his younger self and smiled.

It hadn't been all sunshine and rainbows. Evan was so afraid Barty would leave him the moment he told him about not wanting to have sex - in any way. But Barty had been more than understanding, talking about how just kissing Evan was more than enough and even though he thought it impossible, Evan fell even harder for the other boy.

They also fought from time to time - with two personalities like theirs it was normal to butt heads every once in a while but they always came crawling back to each other at the end, always needed the other's comfort.

Lying there in their bed, Barty's head resting peacefully on Evan's chest while Evan carded his hands through his boyfriends hair, Evan wished he had the chance to tell his fourteen year old self that everything would turn out well.

And when Barty excused himself for a moment, left towards the bathroom and came back through the door, looking at Evan with such an intensity but such a calmness to him that starkly differed from the time where they were in a similar position - Evan on his bed, Barty in the middle of the room after barrelling through the door - and his boyfriend got down on one knee with that infuriatingly handsome smile on his face, Evan knew that maybe Barty was just as hopelessly in love with him as he was.

[mumms-the-word]

My friend/fountain of knowledge,

I wanted to post about a Mystra theory I had, but thought it may be best to explore it here with you instead! I’d love to hear your thoughts on it. 

It’s probably been discussed before, but the idea is that Mystra’s chosen are selected by her because she sees them as potential threats.

She is an omniscient being, and the Goddess of Divination, so surely she has some kind of prophetic ability or sense of the future? 

It’s mentioned many times that Gale’s ambition mirrors that of Karsus in certain ways, and maybe she was able to see the potential for the repetition of history. (Especially as he displayed an impressive control of the weave at such a young age, and has a tendency to slip into arrogance and hubris.)

I know Gods don’t share the same emotions as mortals, but she must fear succumbing to the same fate as Mystryl - The Goddess who was destroyed by a wizard. 

Maybe this is why she did not remove the orb when Gale proved her right in her fears? She was hoping he would obey her command and destroy himself before he could get his hands on the crown.

The future is never set in stone, even when puppeted by the Gods, and Gale says pretty early on he doesn’t believe in fate. It seems to me the potential to ‘be a moon unto yourself’ was there for him all along, but he was Mystra’s lover because she knew of the threat he could become.

Ironic, that she played a part in his drive for the crown, but I think he would always have been tempted by Godly power whether he was her chosen or not.

I’m gonna answer this on public and you can let me know if you want it taken down!

A caveat: I think that we’ll never know what Mystra was thinking/feeling/knowing before and during the events of the game because I think the game intentionally keeps her motivations hidden. We can dive into the devnotes all we want, and we can advocate for better treatment of Gale as fans of Gale but in terms of what Mystra was planning? We’ll never know for sure.

So with that said, I have a couple of thoughts/theories below the cut! Looong post ahead.

Does Mystra have foresight/divination powers?

Many gods have foresight, although not all of them are gods of divination. Technically Savras, a god not in BG3, is the god of divination, but he is like...part of Mystra's team (wizards who worship Mystra might also invoke him, for example). So like, divination is still sort of part of her domain, but her main focus is the preservation of the Weave and she's given dominion over matters of divination to Savras.

I honestly can’t remember if her having foresight is expressly mentioned in the game (it’s part of her dnd lore more broadly) but regardless, there’s a lot to suggest that her foresight isn’t perfect. Specifically in the context of the game (not full lore). She commands Gale to sacrifice himself in Act 2, not realizing that if he does so, it doesn't actually stop the scourge of illithids. If you sacrifice Gale in Act 2, everyone with a tadpole immediately becomes illithid and you get a game over. It's not the best time for Gale to sacrifice himself. So we know that Mystra's foresight is imperfect, because if she wanted a more surefire win that also means she doesn't lose out on thousands of souls, she would have waited to ask him, knowing there would be a better opportunity later.

There's also the "be a moon unto yourself" and "even the tides of fate can break upon the shores of will" language Elminster uses. Elminster, who has arguably known Mystra longer than anyone else on the planet, who is the closest thing to a mortal-immortal ambassador that can bridge the gap between Mystra in the godly realms and mortals in the Material Plane, even HE doesn't have much faith in Mystra's command to sacrifice Gale in Act 2. What Mystra offers is a potential solution. It's not the best solution. Not even for her. So in terms of foresight...I think she has either a limited view, or she sees potential futures, but nothing is set in stone thanks to the free will of mortals.

(and also maybe illithids are outside her purview of knowledge since they mostly cast magic with psionics and not the Weave and don't have souls that she can recognize?? unclear)

Does Mystra fear destruction or death?

I'm not sure how much Mystra fears death. I mean, I'm sure dying as a god is traumatic in its own right, but she's died multiple times. First as Mystryl, which was kind of a self-sacrifice thing (what Karsus did was cast a spell that would funnel her powers into him, so she basically killed herself to stop the process halfway and everything went to chaos "for a spell"). Even Gale calls it a self-sacrifice. Then she died during the Time of Troubles, was reborn as Midnight, who ALSO died, and then she was silent (but probably not dead dead) for about a hundred years until a few years before the game takes place.

(If BG3 follows dnd lore which, in my opinion, it mostly does, but I know that not all Gale fans agree and Larian is changing up timelines in other respects too so...take everything with a grain of salt)

So killing Mystra is...it just doesn't work. Somehow she's always around, in part perhaps because her Weave is everywhere. Fragments of her will always exist. Which is why Gale's ambitious goal, should you choose to encourage him, is to steal her power. Not to kill her. Even an Origin!Gale says "I'm here for your godhood" if you choose to confront her, not that he's there to kill her.

Which is what makes him like Karsus. Karsus sought to steal Mystryl's powers. Gale is mirroring him in every way if he is persuaded down that path. Now that part...I think Mystra does slightly fear that. Because Karsus almost succeeded...

Almost.

But he didn't and a god-path Gale doesn't fare much better. If you play Origin!Gale and you choose to confront Mystra and steal her godhood? You also fail. Gale dies. Mystra wins.

I don't know how much she fears destruction and death, because I think she has failsafes in place. But it would be very inconvenient to die again so soon after finally regaining her full powers, so I'm sure she's eager to avoid it.

Did Mystra know the orb would be useful?

I think this again speaks to the idea that she has a limited foresight ability. Gale may say that she is omniscient, but I don't think that necessarily means she sees all of time forwards and backwards. I think she can sense everything about the Weave all at once and knows everything all previous iterations of Mystra know (and all that her Chosens know; that's stated in the Elminster novels). But her foresight is imperfect.

So, conjecture time. We're full-on in theory/maybes/who knows territory now.

She knew Gale was going after dangerous Netherese magic when he was looking for the piece of Weave that was locked away because I imagine he used a great deal of magic on his journey and investigation. Her not knowing that Gale was looking for this locked-away piece of Weave is ludicrous. He probably told her his plan and she said no and he went anyway. And she didn't stop him. Why?

My personal theory is she wanted to see what would happen if Gale succeeded. She doesn't babysit her Chosen, though she does occasionally guide them (or command them, rather). As the Lady of Mysterious, she's remarkably (and frustratingly) hands-off. The whole problem with her and Gale's relationship breaking down is because Gale was a) ambitious enough to try and covet a piece of knowledge/Weave that not even Mystra herself could get to (he says it was "sealed beyond her reach") and b) that Mystra never actually talked to him to explain why that's probably a bad idea. Why not? Did she want to see him fail?

I don't know for sure. But I think she was curious. I think she wanted to see if he could even unlock the thing. I think she knew, on some level, that it would go disastrously bad for him, but I don't think she knew that the Karsite Weave would mix with Gale's own dark hunger for power and knowledge and create something that would literally threaten to consume her entire Weave. Why do I think that?

Because that is when she got angry. Not that he was searching. Not when he was deliberately disobeying her by searching (though she was likely mad then too, but she didn't punish or stop him). She didn't seem to care then. She got angry when he failed to do anything productive with the Karsite Weave and the resulting crisis threatened her.

I don't think she would have let him pursue the book with the Karsite Weave had she known the details of what it would do once it entered Gale's body. She does intervene, mind you. She's the one that stabilized the orb enough to "allow it to feed on the true Weave." The question is, why didn't she cure it immediately? It was threatening her Weave, literally consuming bits of her Weave. Did she lack the power? the knowledge? Or was she simply keeping Gale around as insurance, a bomb in her back pocket that she could direct at anything she wanted?

I suspect it's mostly the latter (though I suspect she was also angry that Gale's reaction to his actions threatening her Weave wasn't "Sorry I'll try too fix this" but instead it was "I need you to fix this"). Maybe she knew about the mind flayer crisis on the horizon. By the time Gale is suffering the early effects of the orb, Gortash and Durge have likely already stolen the Crown of Karsus from Mephistopheles (some people theorize it happened in 1490 or 1491, and the game starts midway through 1492). Now there are two Karsite problems on the Material Plane. She likely bided her time to see when she could send Gale out to destroy both in one fell swoop while also being personally angry that Gale didn't act/react the way she wanted him to.

It gets REALLY interesting if you believe that Gortash and Durge pulled the crown out of the hells and into the Material Plane in 1490 because then Mystra KNOWS there's a powerful Karsite item in play. If she knew that, and knew that Gale was pursuing the Karsite Weave...well. In that case, it seems much more likely that she was playing him like a pawn on a chessboard, waiting for him to get in position so she could command him to eliminate both threats.

Because again...she didn't stop him.

Honestly, there are multiple theories about why she didn't stop him or cure him immediately or so forth. it all just depends on how much you want to villainize Mystra and her actions, or if you prefer taking a more neutral path.

So to your theory: Does Mystra choose her Chosen based on whether they will be potential threats?

I think...I disagree, but it's a soft disagree. I think Mystra has no qualms about sending her Chosen to eliminate anything that is a threat to her. Elminster is constantly sent to destroy people who are mishandling the Weave, for example, in the Elminster novels.

However, I do think she is careful to select Chosen who will be powerful and to shower them in affection and attention so they don't think about threatening her. Grooming them to love and devote themselves to her so that if they were ever to think about becoming a threat to her, she can frame it as a personal betrayal.

It's what she does with Gale. I don't think she's threatened by Gale. I think she sees talent and power in him. And I think on some level she probably did find Gale pleasant, and that not every interaction between them was her pulling strings to make sure that he would die in X years in a cataclysmic explosion. That, to me, seems counterintuitive, when she could have just as easily withheld the power he needed to even begin pursuing the Karsite Weave in the first place. But I think it's her modus operandi to love bomb her Chosens so that as she grants them more and more power, betrayal is the last thing on their minds. Because they know that losing her favor, losing her love, means losing power.

Elminster didn't live to be 1300+ years old and the most powerful wizard in existence (allegedly) because he pissed off Mystra. It's because he loves Mystra and she rewards devotion and affection. It's why Gale pursued the fractured Weave in the first place: to prove his love.

It's all very complicated. But she can decide whether or not someone is going to be a threat to her. And the fact that Gale, the most likely candidate to be a threat to her given his connections with the Karsite Weave, fails in the attempt is...telling. Even a Godof Ambition Gale who is still eager to dethrone Mystra isn't going to do so quickly. He's going to wait for another millennium or so before he tries. And whether he's successful depends entirely on what happens over the course of that next 1000 years.

So I suppose it's more likely for her to choose Chosens that she can manipulate or at least groom into a cult of love and devotion. It's the rogue people who don't love her that are the threats, which is why I think she's invested in the illithid plot in particular. Illithids couldn't give two shits about Mystra. And that clearly bothers her.

Anyways, long story long, Mystra is an imperfect goddess who, depending on your reading of her and her actions, either set up Gale to fail or cunningly used his failure to her advantage (or both). And despite what a lot of people say, I don't actually think she has a lot of foresight power, because I feel like Gale's actions keep somewhat surprising her. So there's that.

[ducktracy]

Does it ever feel pressuring (no pun intended) to work on a show with such a legacy and history as SpongeBob?

VERY much so, but in a good way, if such a thing exists! one of our mantras on our little storyboard plussing team is “pressure makes diamonds” and it is a very applicable saying

when i first started, i was TEEEEERRRIFIED! i really felt like i had no idea what i was doing, and there have been so many times where i’ve turned in a section and genuinely thought “oh my god they’re gonna fire me for this it’s so bad.” working in animation is frazzling enough! but not only are we working on a cultural mecca, with not only the kids of today to entertain, impress and inspire, but to maintain the integrity of the series and entertain/impress/inspire the kids like us who grew up with the show, we are also working with literal animation legends and animation veterans!! it’s pretty surreal to be working on the same show as someone like Bob Camp, who’s been in the industry for 40+ years… and even more surreal when he says he’s a big fan of your work 😵‍💫‼️‼️‼️‼️

THANKFULLY, i’ve made a lot of strides in curbing some of my storyboarding stage fright. it used to be really bad when i started, like genuinely panic attack inducing! the constant patience and guidance and encouragement of my peers and consistent practice from these past three years have really allowed me to grow and blossom. now, when i feel a bit claustrophobic in remembering the pure scale of what we’re doing, i weaponize it for good!!

i think of how inspired and amazed and obsessed with SpongeBob i was as a kid. how it inspired me to draw, how i remember drawing along to episodes and commercial breaks. my brother and his wife are both elementary school teachers and routinely update me about how their kids are still crazy for SB (and they both brag about me to their kids heheh). i think of all the kids watching, all the kids realizing that getting to draw these characters and interact with them and live in their world is something you indeed can do, all the kids who religiously catch each new episode like i once did… it just fills me with so much confidence and hope and love, and that motivates me to deliver and do my best and try to do what i can to help make each episode be better and more fun than the last

SpongeBob is for everyone, obviously! that’s one of the great things i love about working on it: i get just as much enjoyment watching our finished episodes as our target audience. but i do bring up the kids particularly often because, at the end of the day, that is who we are doing it for and i also just can’t help but think back to how my SpongeBob obsessed self as a kid would have had her world rocked to know i’m doing what i’m doing. i want to give those kids, who i used to be and still essentially am, the same joy and spark and all consuming inspiration i felt and still do

there are definitely some days where the gravity of what we’re doing hits harder than others! some days are a lot more difficult than others. this is an absolute dream job, i’m not just saying that, i always fantasized about maybe one day being able to work my way up to working on SpongeBob and now it’s my first animation job—but it is very easy to get overwhelmed by just how big of a legacy we’re carrying on our shoulders! how many other mega talented people work on this show! there’s a lot to juggle. but we juggle it well. there is so much love and heart and care poured into this show. we do everything we can to maintain the integrity of the characters and the show’s core, and it just makes me love what i do all the more and makes me more determined to do it

TLDR: YES! but i’m much better off for it, because it reminds me of why we’re working so hard to begin with. we all want this show to be the best it can—to maintain its core 25 years later, but still have fun doing it. i mentioned this on Twitter, but when i met Bill Fagerbakke last month he was saying how cool it is that fans who grew up with the show are now able to work on it and i couldn’t agree more. it’s the greatest honor imaginable being able to carry such a monumental torch, and i hope i’m able to keep at it for a long, long time.

[boldlyvoid]

Where There is Love, There is Life | Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Clandestine Meetings | for @elriel-month 2024

Summary: Elain finally takes matters into her own hands, tending to her life as carefully as she would her garden.

Warnings: requited love, mutual pining, love confessions, Smut!! Oral (fem receiving), wing play, teasing, multiple orgasms

Word Count: 6.1k | Masterlist

Dinner is weird. 

She sits across from Rhys and bites her tongue. Which isn’t abnormal for her; she’s not talkative around him. They’re friendly, they’re family, but they’re not talkative. Part of her wants to yell at him. The rest of her knows that Feyre will handle it. But the part that wants to yell is bigger. 

So, as Feyre picks up Nyx from his high chair and brings him out of the room to bathe him before bed, Elain takes her chance. 

“I know what you did,” she announces. 

The wraiths, her best friends, hear the seriousness of her tone and leave. Abandoning the dirty dishes for the safety and solitude of the kitchen. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“That night with Azriel, you made him stop,” she explains. You stepped in, you pulled him away from me. You made a decision for me, thinking it would benefit the court without considering my feelings. How many times are you going to do this? To Feyre and her family?” 

He’s shocked. He never expected her to take such a tone with him, to stand up for herself. It’s evident by the way he blinks and pulls back, thinking about what he’s done and realizing how wrong he was. Before he can speak, she continues.

“I do not like Lucien. He is a good male, sure. He’s handsome, whatever? But do I love him? No. Would you force me to marry Lucien to benefit this court? What good does he really bring to you? He’s close to Vassa and Jurian, but do you know who else? Feyre, Nesta and myself. Jurian helped Azriel save me. My father made the deal that broke Vassa away from Koschei. Lucien is just a cog in the machine; he’s there for help, but he is not the reason it works.” 

“I’m—

“And furthermore!” She cuts him off. “did you ever wonder why he spends so much time with Vassa instead of me? Have you ever considered he also doesn’t want this? If he did, he’d be here. You couldn’t stay away from Feyre, and Cassian couldn’t stay away from Nesta. No matter how much she pissed him off, he kept coming back. You fought for love. Lucien and I don’t like each other, the cauldron made a mistake, and I am sick and fucking tired of letting other people, other beings, make decisions for me. I have been controlled, kidnapped and changed all against my will. Do not force me into being unhappy for the rest of my life because it’s convenient to you.” 

Rhys takes a deep breath at the same time that she does. They just stare at each other for a moment. He asks with his eyes if it’s his turn to speak, and she motions with her hand for him to go ahead. 

“I didn’t think. Not about you,” he confirms. “My first fear wasn’t that we’d lose Lucien as emissary. It was that I could lose Azriel if he asked to fight to the death for your hand. Lucien was sleeping upstairs. If I could smell your arousal... if it had gone further and we heard you… gods know how it would’ve ended.” 

“We would’ve gone somewhere else,” she assures. “And I don’t think Lucien would do that. Seeing what his mother went through, the way he aches for standing by while Feyre dealt with Tamlin, he wouldn’t force me into something I don’t want.” 

“Azriel is my brother; I love him more than I can describe, I want him to be happy, yes, but I want him to live more than anything,” Rhys bows his head with a sigh. “How can I make this right?” 

“Turn a blind eye to us for the time being.” 

“Are you together?” 

“I’m meeting him later, hopefully. I need him to know I am in love with him. That I want him. That my choice, the biggest choice I could ever make, is to choose him as my forever. I’ll deal with Lucien later; Feyre and I have a plan for that, which she will fill you in on later tonight. It will be fine. It’s not the first time a mating bond hasn’t been the end all be all, look at Luciens own mother. She is mated to Helion and married to Baron, and they’ve never fought over it… I like to think Lucien, no matter which father he takes after more, he’d let me be in control of this because he’s seen how much control his mother lacks.” 

“So, get married.” 

“What?” Elain’s eyes almost pop out of her skull; she can’t believe what he said. 

“Marriage is as serious as a bond. I knew that once Feyre said I do to Tamlin, I wasn’t able to interfere; the bond would be there, but it would never happen. Helion does nothing because she’s married. Not because he’s afraid of Baron or because he enjoys keeping a secret. It’s something most males respect. So marry Azriel, make it official, and no one can interfere.” 

“H-how?” She asks, still reeling from the idea. 

“Feyre and I got married right before we went to get the cauldron, right before you were changed,” he explains with a solemn look on his face. Taking another deep breath, he says, “I knew no matter what happened, by marrying her and making her our high lady, my court would be taken care of, and if I died, I died a happy, married man. But it came in handy when she went back with Tamlin.” 

Elain nods. “So… what? We just walk into a temple, and a priestess marries us? We don’t need anyone there to witness it? It just becomes official?” 

“They will have a second priestess there to witness it,” Rhys assures. You can do it alone, in the middle of the night… or you can do it here, in the garden, with your closest friends and family, and we will keep it a secret until you want to tell Lucien.” 

She nods along, slowly taking it all in. “I think… I think I want to talk to Az first. Make sure we’re on the same page.” 

“You are,” Rhys smiles, that genuine, toothy, Rhys smile. “He almost beat the shit out of me because I told him to stay away. He put rocks in the fucking snowballs the next day.”

 Elain laughs, blushing slightly as she shakes her head, “I love him so much; if you hadn’t stepped in, I was going to tell him that night.” 

“I’m sorry. Truly sorry. You happiness, your future, your love, that’s all up to you. I won’t step in again, unless you need me, because we’re family,” he reminds her. “It’s been so long since I had a sister— and don’t tell Nesta I said this, but— I love you both, even if I have a weird way of showing it.” 

Elain laughs, “You and Nesta butt heads like you’ve been siblings for 500 years. You both love so strongly, and you’re so afraid of people you love thinking the worst of you that it comes out in screaming matches and shoves. But she loves you; I know she does. If not because of Feyre, because of Cassian and how you kept him safe as a boy.” 

“If I could go back in time and do it all again, I’d simply go find him sooner.” 

It breaks her heart what the boys went through before meeting Rhys. Even if they hated each other for the first little bit, they saved each other—again and again and again. 

“I, uh, I’m going to go settle down for the night,” she announces as she stands up. “Thank you for understanding and for the advice.” 

He nods, “I’m always here for you, Elain. For anything.” 

—

He gets there early. 

He winnows to the townhouse garden. Sitting at the little picnic table in the dark, he contemplates bringing out some candles and making the garden brighter, but he also doesn’t want to draw attention to the townhouse. It’s known to be unoccupied currently, and the last thing he wants is for someone to ask Rhys why the lights were on tonight. 

He sends the shadows out to watch the house and alert him when Elain is at the front door. She has a key, she’s allowed in the warding, and she’ll be here as quickly as she can walk over from the river house. So he sends another shadow to watch the path she would take to ensure her safety. 

He can tell it's midnight from the moon's position; he stares up at the stars, wanting to memorize where they were the day he finally told Elain the truth—that he loves her more than he could ever properly explain, but he’ll try. He’ll tell her everything tonight, even if it’s almost a year too late.

Elain clears her throat, alerting him that she’s arrived and startling him. “How did you—

“I can winnow,” she shrugs. “How do you think I was able to stab that asshole so fast?” 

He lets out a small laugh, shaking his head before taking her in. He looks her up and down, and his heart skips a beat. In her deep blue dress, it might even be purple in daylight, but in the moonlight, it’s blue—his favourite shade of blue on his favourite person in the whole world. 

He smiles then, “I figured it was a heat of the moment power serge… Feyre had the same problem with her powers when she was learning; if she got too excited, angry, or… lustful, she could freeze, burn, blind, or disappear.” 

She nods, stepping closer to the table. " It was a shock that first time, but I kept learning. Nuala and Cerridwen helped me; they’ve taught me a lot." 

He smirks, shaking his head slightly, “I should’ve known you 3 would be dangerous together.” 

She giggles that beautiful, miraculous giggle. She sits across from him, “Yeah, well, I’m going to have to learn how to be dangerous if I’m going to be married to you, shadowsinger.” 

Everything stops. His breathing, his heart, the noise of the night in the city—it’s all gone. 

“Excuse me?” It falls out of him. 

She just smiles, big and toothy, her head slightly cocked to the side her eyes gleaming. It’s the same smile Feyre gives Rhys. He knows it well. She’s in love with him. 

“I gave Rhysand a talking to for stepping in last year. I… I want to make the choice of who I end up with, who I love. And while the cauldron was right for my sisters, the choice it made for me wasn’t right. I don’t agree, and I am putting my foot down. I’m taking my future into my own hands.” 

He nods along, “Okay.” 

“I love you. I want you. I need you.” Her voice lowers on the last line. She looks at him through her lashes and smirks slightly. “So marry me. Make me yours as much as you are mine, and together, we can deal with whatever that brings.” 

That was the last thing he expected tonight. However, he had dreamed about this moment… just a little differently. He was going to ask her about the continent during a trip to the Botanical Garden in Vallahan, somewhere she’d talked about visiting since she learned of it 2 years ago. 

“Tonight?” He asks, “Alone?” 

She shrugs, “If you want that. Rhys also suggested we do it in the garden at their house, with just a small group of us, so that it can stay a secret until we can tell Lucien.” 

“What if he—

“He’ll take it well. I think he’ll be just as relieved to know I don’t want him as I will be to know he doesn’t want me either,” she explains. “I have a feeling he stays with Vassa for more reasons than just that she understands him. I think he fell in love with her.” 

“That… that would make sense,” Azriel agrees. “He is very opinionated about breaking her curse and he would do anything for her the same way I would for you.” 

Her eyes light right up again, so big the stars reflect in her pupils. “So you love me?”

He lets out a deep breath, staring deeply into her eyes. Reaching out over the table, he takes her beautiful hands. “So much that it feels like my heart could explode. I never, ever thought I could feel like this and I’ve been alive—

“Forever?” She teases, squeezing his hand. 

He laughs, “a long time, yes. And in all those years I’ve never believed it could happen to me. To be loved the way I love someone, to feel like I deserve it… you make me feel worthy. You make me feel good. I just hope that my love brings something as meaningful to you as yours has brought to me.” 

“Oh, Az,” she drops his hand and rushes around the table; he meets her halfway. “You make me feel so powerful and strong and… and me. I’ve never felt more like myself than when I’m with you. You don’t make decisions for me, you don’t talk over me, you don’t talk down to me… you’re so wonderful and strong and powerful, yet you respect me as if I’m exactly as powerful. You respect me, you care for me, you are an extension of me at this point. I love you with my whole soul.” 

He cups her jaw and pulls her back to look down at her; every hair on his body stands up with anticipation as he stares into her eyes. The last time they were this close he fucked it all up. “I never meant what I said that night. You weren’t a mistake; Rhys made me feel like I was making one… You’d never be a mistake.” 

“I know,” she whispers softly, looking from his eyes to his lips. “Kissing you wouldn’t have been the mistake, trying to pretend we weren’t together behind everyones backs would’ve been. Loving you proudly, out loud and in front of everyone is what you deserve. What we deserve.” 

“What we both deserve,” he agrees before pulling her in and pressing his lips against hers. 

—

The second his lips touch hers, the world stops. Her eyes close in an instant. She wraps herself around him just as his big hands grasp her back and tug her in so they’re chest to chest. She hums against him, safe and content, where she’s always wanted to be—where she’s always meant to be. 

This is what she wanted last solstice; all those same feelings come rushing back. Her arousal coursed through her; she wanted him more than air, and as she took in a deep breath from her nose, she could tell he wanted her just as bad. His tongue slides over her bottom lip, begging for access to more of her mouth, so she lets him in. Tasting his tongue, exploring his mouth, feeling up his back as he cradles her head and holds her so carefully like she could break. Pressed against him, his leg juts out between her legs just right for her to gently grind upon. 

His hands slip down to her ass as he pulls her hips closer until she feels the outline of his cock pressed against her. She moans into his mouth and that heady and delicious scent comes pouring from him in response. He wants her just as badly as she wants him. Heat floods her body; she lifts a leg to wrap around him and pull him in even closer and to her surprise, he pushes the material of her dress up to grip her bare leg right under the knee and hold her there. 

He kisses down the side of her neck, growling lightly, “fuck, Elain, your scent is going to be the death of me.” 

She tilts her head to the side, holding onto his massive shoulders for dear life as he nips and sucks at her skin. “Az,” she moans his name. “It’s all for you. Always you.” 

He licks from her collarbone up to her ear, “you even taste like jasmine and honey.” 

“More,” she breathes out. “Taste me more?” 

He groans again, “let's get you to a bed—

“No!” she stops him, staring back into his eyes. “I want to do it here, where I fell in love with you.” 

“Right here?” 

She nods, “In the garden where you healed me… I have some blankets.” She waves her hand, and suddenly, there’s a pile of quilts and furs laid upon the ground, surrounded by lanterns and candles. “All I want is for you to take me in the flowers we planted together.” 

“Elain,” he cups her face. “Anything you want, from now until forever, I will give it to you.” 

“Then come on,” she smirks, taking his hand to lead him to the blankets. 

She makes him sit first, leaning back on his hands with his wings slightly spread— enough to show off but not enough to knock anything over and set the garden ablaze. She hikes up her dress just enough to straddle his lap. The light, satin fabric pools around her hips, cascading over them. She cups his face once more as he wraps his arms gently around her. 

“Are you sure?” He worries. 

She nods, “I took the tonic this morning after breakfast, I’ve wanted to do this for a while— tell you that is, not... you know? Well…” 

He smirks, “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time, too.” 

“How long has it been for you?” She wonders, almost regretting it. 

“Since I met you… even before that. I think it might be five years now. Near the end of Amarantha’s reign, my shadows alerted me to what was happening all over, and I was too nervous to partake in anything fun.” 

She nods, " As much as I hate her, I’m grateful she brought us together.” 

He brushes her hair back behind her ear and cups her cheek, “I would’ve waited 500 more years for you.” 

“And I would’ve come back, again and again and again, until our paths crossed.” 

He gently cups her body and flips them around, resting her against the blankets and hovering over her. “I know something else you can do again and again for me.” 

She knows exactly what he means, “Oh, please?” She begs. “I’ve never… but I want to.” 

“Never?” His eyes widen in shock. 

“Never…”

“Well then, at least we get to share at least 1 first each tonight.” She looks at him, confused. “You’ll get to cum, and I get to be loved. Truly loved.” 

“Oh,” she swoons. “I do love you; I love you so much.” 

“Let me show you just how much I love you,” he coos, leaning back in to kiss her lips. 

With her dress still hiked up, the bulge in his pants pressed directly against her underclothes. He feels so remarkable, both against her and as his tongue reenters her mouth. 

Before she can get into it again, he kisses her lips one last time, and he shuffles down between her legs even more. He kisses her neck, shoulder, and collarbones, “can I?” He whispers against her skin, hand tracing the bodice of her dress, over her pebbled nipples and up towards the straps. 

“Yes,” she moans. “Touch me, Azriel.” 

He makes a pleased sound, almost a purr against her, as he pushes her straps off her shoulders and pulls the dress down to her middle. Watching as her breasts become free from their silky prison and fall away from each other with the weight of them. He takes two handfuls, his scared hands carefully gripping them as she arches towards his touch. She never thought too much about her breasts, thinking they were a fine size, not too big and not too small… looking at them now, in his hands, she realized they were made for this. To fit perfectly in the palms of her lover's hands, her one true love's hands. 

Then, he grips her tits, pushing them together, and kisses her right nipple, then the left and then he lets them go. Gravity separates them enough for him to kiss the centre of her chest and down her stomach until he’s lying between her legs. Tugging at the dress once more, she lifts her hips to help him slide it off of her, down her legs and abandoned on the blankets beside them. 

He kisses her stomach again, hands sliding along her thighs as he pushes them apart even more. Resting between them, he presses a kiss right to the fabric in the centre of her underwear. “Are you 100% positive you want this?” 

“Yes, Azriel,” she breathes out, assuring him one last time before he starts to pull her panties right off. 

She’d dreamed about this moment, the way he’d look up at her with greedy, lust-blown eyes just as he kissed the most sensitive part of her.

She’s had the unfortunate experience of hearing her sisters with their mates, thinking they were overexaggerating their noises just to stroke their Illyrian egos. She had no idea it was this good. 

His tongue glides along her quim, slowly savouring the taste of her slick. She reached for him, resting on one elbow as her free hand ran through his hair. He looked up into her eyes, smirking as he sucked on her, causing her to gasp. “Oh gods,” she whined, just as he growled against her. The vibration radiates through her body. 

She had never felt like this. The heat in her veins danced through her body, sparking like her favourite wine. She arched off the bed, pushing herself closer to him; she wanted more. She wanted all of it—all of him. 

The way his hands gripped her thighs, holding her open as he dragged his tongue over her once more before plunging his tongue right into her. She gasped, not expecting it. She had read about this, having stolen one of Nesta’s books when she was a teenager… but this, this was far more intimate, more intense than she expected. His nose brushed against that bundle of nerves as his tongue turned inside her. Fucking her with his tongue, reaching a place inside of her that no one else had. 

She swore she closed her eyes at the feeling, yet she could still see stars. Whining and moaning as her hips undulated to meet his movements, she didn’t care if the whole city heard them. The world should know that the shadow singer of the night court was hers, dedicated to her pleasure, and had promised himself to her for the rest of his life. 

If this was anything to go by, she knew a good half of that remaining lifespan would be spent here. In her bed, between her thighs, inside her. Where he belonged. 

Pressing a hand to her stomach, he held her down as he withdrew his tongue, going back up to her clit to flick his tongue against it. She cried out, feeling bubbling in her gut, lower than that… in her womb. Closer than she’d ever been in her life, she knew she was close to experiencing her first orgasm. Giving it to him would be a blessing— without any warning, he slipped a finger into her. 

Breathing against her, he looked up to see her reaction as she looked down at him with pure shock on her face. “I’m going to need to stretch you,” he explained. “You’ll need to be prepared for me.” 

She tossed her head back, “sweet fuck,” she moaned. “I knew it…” 

He chuckled against her, “knew what?” 

“Illyrian wingspans…” she tried to explain as he fucked her with his finger, kissing her clit over and over as he watched her. “They—gods— they’re indicators of size in other— other places.” 

He hums, “That they are.” 

She moaned again as he curled his finger, gently rubbing a spot inside of her that made those stars behind her eyes explode into blinding white light. That moan became a scream of pleasure as something foreign coursed through her body, making her shake and writhe against the blankets. 

He coaxed her through it; behind the ringing in her ears, she could tell he was praising her. “Good girl, there it is; let it go.” 

She couldn’t catch her breath, panting with her hand gripped to her breast, her chest heaved. “Was that?” She asked, not able to use any more words; her brain felt like it melted in her skull. 

He hums against her thigh, pressing kisses there as she calms down, finger still inside her. “It was… you look beautiful when you cum.” 

She just lay there, looking up at the stars again. “Holy fuck.” 

He withdrew his finger then, and she felt his tongue back on her hole, lapping up her release. He groaned, “You taste even better.” 

Her legs still quaked as she sat up slightly, looking down at him again. His eyes were blown out with lust, so impossibly dark… his wings spread out, fluttering and twitching every now and then as he kept licking at her. “Are you… are you sure I need more stretching?” 

He nods, “Just 2 more fingers… give me 5 minutes?” 

“Okay,” she smiles. “I can’t wait to have you back up here.” 

“Oh,” he softens at that. “Here,” he offers; getting to his knees, he crawls over her. Keeping her thighs apart with a knee, his fingers dance over her sensitive clit and down to her hole. Leaning over her, he’s so close to her now. She can smell herself on his face; a husky jasmine essence covers him. “I can multitask.” 

She wraps her arms around his shoulders, pulling him down into a kiss. Tasting herself… he wasn’t wrong. She hums in his mouth; she could get used to this. And then there are two fingers working their way into her. Slowly, knuckle by knuckle, he was right about needing to stretch her because even this is a lot. She has to stop the kiss, breathing against him, “How in the world are your fingers so big?” 

He laughs against her, dropping his forehead to her shoulder. He rests on his elbow, yet he’s still able to brush her hair off her face. All of him is huge, actually. He makes her feel so small, not in a bad way. She likes it. She likes how delicate she feels under him, knowing she’ll always be protected, especially as his big wings stretch out and hide them from the world. 

She reaches out for his wings, brushing her fingers from the talon and down along the membrane. He shutters, bucking his hips against her legs. “You did that on purpose,” he groans. 

She smirks, “oh, does it feel good?” She teases. “I had no idea.” 

He bites her shoulder, making her yelp. He drags his tongue over the bite mark and then blows on it lightly, sending shivers down her entire body. Her nipples get even harder, somehow. He kisses from her shoulder to her chest, sucking her nipple into his mouth and sucking gently. He pumps his fingers in and out of her with more fervour, his thumb ghosting over her clit to see if she’s still too sensitive for more. She isn’t. She’s craving more of him all over again. 

Curling his fingers again, his rhythm changed ever so slightly to rub that spot inside of her as he thrusts. She can hear how wet she is and feel it slipping out of her to pool on the sheets. When it all starts to feel a bit too much again, he slows down, withdraws all the way and starts to work in another finger. 

She hisses; it’s more than she’s ever had inside of her. Her first time wasn’t anything too spectacular; Greyson was a typical, average human man. Nothing, absolutely nothing compared to Azriel. With his wings and his fingers… oh, she was in for a world of pleasure after the hurt subsided. 

“You can take it,” he whispers in her ear, cooking her through it. Sucking on her neck gently, he presses his thumb into her clit for added pleasure. Knowing exactly what he’s doing, she eases up and relaxes just enough to let him in all the way. “Good girl.” 

The phrase makes her brain fuzzy. She reels in the praise; it’s not often she’s complimented like this. She brushes a hand over his wing again, “Az…” 

Deep from within, he purrs against her again, “Yes, sweetheart?” 

“I’m good— ready, I’m ready,” she rushes out. “Please?” 

He smiles, pulling away from her breasts, hovering over her; he keeps pumping into her. Scissoring his fingers slightly, stretching her even more before he pulls out. “Are you sure?” 

She nods like her head is on a spring,  “yes, Az, please?” 

“Say it,” he orders, grinning like a devil, still fucking her with his fingers. “Tell what you want.” 

“Fuck me,” she breathes out. “I want you to fuck me.” 

“I can do that,” he teases, pulling out of her and sitting up on his knees. He’s quick to suck her juices off each one. Savouring the taste, his eyes roll back in his head slightly. He groans, pulling them out with a pop sound, “I’m never going to get enough of how you taste.” 

She props herself up on her elbows, staring at him with her head cocked to the side. Her eyes drag over his body, over his tight black shirt and down towards the strain in his pants. “Are you going to stay clothed all night?” 

With the snap of his fingers, he’s naked in front of her. So, so naked… her jaw drops at the sight of him. She’d seen him shirtless many times when he was working out on top of the house of wind or resting with Cassian in the backyard… she’d daydreamed about what he’d look like under the belt, but nothing compares to the real thing. 

She quickly closed her mouth, swallowing before she could drool and embarrass herself. She reaches out for him, hand on his abs, she follows the bumps and ridges with her fingers, tracing over his skin causing him to breakout in goosebumps. She stops at the tuft of hair that usually peaks out of his training leathers. “Wow…” 

His cock twitches, standing tall and pointing towards her, head gleaming as a pearl of precum dribbles out of him. Her hand drifts further down, tentatively gripping him at the base as she makes eye contact. Her fingers barely meet her thumb. He’s that thick and long… holy gods, she would take this. Again and again and again for the rest of her life. 

She gets to her knees, still not as tall as him, stroking him lightly. Looking into his eyes, she deeply breathes, “Make love to me, Azriel.”

He lunges for her, kissing her hard, passionately. Hand at the nape of her neck, he caresses her with his thumb as his tongue meets hers once more. She would never tire of how he kissed her and savoured her, as if every kiss would be their last. His other hand rests on her lower back, pulling her in closer so their bare chests touch. She settles against him, letting go of his cock so she can wrap her arms around him and feel his back muscles, tracing gently around where his wings meet skin. 

He whimpers into her mouth, nipping at her lip before pulling back, “lay back.” 

She listens, quickly finding the most comfortable spot against the blankets, her head resting on a makeshift pillow of folded fur. With her legs spread, she watches him kneel between her legs once more, dropping over her, hands on either side of her, and caging her in. He looks at her like a meal, like he’s been starving for half a millennium. 

Which, in a way, he has been.

Starved for love. 

“I love you,” she whispers, reaching for him again. She cups his face. “I love you so much, Azriel.”

Fighting back what looks to be tears, he smiles, “I love you, Elain Archeron.” 

“I’m ready when you are?” 

“Okay,” he whispers; reaching between them, he gathers some of her wetness and rubs her clit for good measure. She bites her lip with a moan, still relaxed and happy and okay… so he slips in slowly. Inch by inch, watching himself disappear inside of her. It’s intoxicating to watch him watch her, but the feeling, the stretch… it’s far too good to stay focused. 

He’s just hovering over her, completely inside of her, staring into her eyes while they take in the moment together. “You’re inside of me,” she whispers with a smile. 

“I am,” he can’t help but laugh slightly, entirely in love with her. “Can I move?” 

“Please?” she grips his shoulders for good measure, pulling out just enough to push back in again and again and again until he builds a beautiful rhythm that she adores. With her head lulled back, he kisses her neck and jaw, using everything in his power not to completely cover her in marks where the whole city could see tomorrow. 

“Can you, can—“ she tries to talk, feeling too much to string much along. “Touch me… in that spot?” she begs, not wanting to say such a crude word out loud. 

“Your clit?” He teases. “Of course.” Using his thumb, he rubs her clit while the rest of his flat hand rests on her pubic bone. He can almost feel himself with each trust, and it’s just as intense for her. 

It’s everything she ever wanted and then some, more beautiful than any experience she could read in a book or imagine late at night… and usually he was the star of those dreams that felt like this. And now he’s real, and here and between her legs, making her feel more than ever before; she’s so fucking close again. 

“Az,” she whispers, getting his attention back, “kiss me?” 

She doesn’t have to ask twice; he kisses her hard and passionately, thrusting into her with precision and dedication to make sure she has a good time. He would be damned if he came before her, so he rubs her clit faster and fucks her deeper and kisses her harder. It’s all so much, her thighs are trebling again and she knows it’s going to happen, she wants to warn him but it feels too good to kiss him and hold him while he takes her there. And he feels it too, she knows he does by the way he whimpers against her mouth, “close?” He mumbles. 

She nods, “please?” 

“Cum baby,” he encourages her, feeling her clench around him, pulsing around his cock as she releases, just like she did on his fingers. “Good girl,” he praises, bucking his hips into her and withdrawing his hand from her clit. He wraps his arms around her, fucking her gently and with intent as he chases his own high. His wings spread wide, splayed out so fast that all the candles are extinguished by the gust of wind. 

“Oh Elain,” he whispers, “oh, I love you, I love you so fucking much,” he groans as he cums, shaking on top of her. 

She runs her hands over his back, touching that spot where his skin meets his wing—where she now knows he likes it—coaxing him through it all. It feels so much more intense than either of them expected. 

He still’s inside of her, panting in her ear gently between each kiss to her neck. He just wants to hold her, he could fall asleep after how incredible it was, but then she starts to shake again, and it’s not because she’s cumming. 

She’s crying, holding him tightly with her cheek pressed to the side of his head, “I love you.” 

“I love you, sweetheart,” he lifts himself up enough to look down at her, feeling himself start to tear up as well. “So, so much,” he feels the tear trickle down his cheek and land on her chest. 

She pulls him into another kiss, holding his cheeks in her hands. She breathes him in deeply. “Thank you,” she whispers afterward. 

“We’re even,” he teases with a smile, wiping her tears. “Thank you.” 

@greenleaf777 @lostvillainess

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Word Count: 2.8k

Enid rushed through the forest, nothing but panicked thoughts about Wednesday in her mind. Thing was frantically tapping on her shoulder, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying just from his movements, and she didn’t have time to stop moving and find out what exactly he was trying to say to her.

All she was thinking about was the fact that her best friend was out there somewhere, alone with the same monster that had murdered countless people. She knew Wednesday wouldn’t be scared. She’d never seen Wednesday scared before, and she was sure that the girl wouldn’t start now. But Wednesday was also a psychic. And Tyler was a Hyde. Having visions wouldn’t save her from a monster that could easily tear her to shreds.

It was up to Enid. This was life or death. Do or die. Either she found Wednesday and saved her, or it was over for the girl she had come to care so much about.

Enid didn’t even know what she’d do if she found them. She was a broken werewolf. She couldn’t shift. Couldn’t fight. Couldn’t offer anything but a distraction. But if a distraction would save Wednesday, would give the girl time to escape, then Enid was, of course, willing to be that distraction.

She sprinted into a clearing, only to feel a sharp pain in her bones. She cried out, falling to the ground. Soft whimpers escaped her mouth as her body contorted. As something happened to her, something that she thought would never come to pass. She was shifting. For the first time in her life, she was becoming a werewolf, years later than everyone else her age.

It was finally happening, and at the perfect time.

Thing went tumbling, but Enid hardly noticed as fur grew on her body, as her nose and mouth elongated into a snout, as her ears and body grew in size.

Until finally, there she stood, a full-fledged werewolf.

Enid was paralyzed in excitement and shock for a few moments, utterly blown away by the fact that she was now a real werewolf. That she had finally, finally shifted, and at the time where it really mattered most. Completely forgetting about Thing, her mind only on Wednesday and her new-found ability to save her friend, Enid howled and sprinted off into the forest.

In her new form, she could smell Wednesday and Tyler’s faint scent, ink and coffee grounds. She followed the trail to a clearing, sprinting full speed.

But just as she entered, she saw Tyler, in his Hyde form, bring his clawed hand down across Wednesday’s throat, slashing it open.

Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach as the blood splattered across the leaf-covered ground, a piercing howl of grief and devastation echoing through the sky.

“Enid.”

Enid looked around, confused, hearing Wednesday’s voice. But the girl was dead, how-

“Enid.”

Enid’s eyes snapped open. She sat up straight, her forehead nearly colliding with Wednesday’s as she gasped for breath. Tears were streaming down her face, her breathing was heavy. She immediately delved into a panic attack, gasping for air as she tried to take in her surroundings.

Color was the first thing she saw. The color of her bedsheets. She was in her bed. In her room.

Wednesday was the next thing she saw, her eyes wide and full of concern, an emotion that Enid had rarely seen her convey.

Wednesday was here. She was alive. They were in their dorm, together. Alive.

They were alive.

Enid leaned towards Wednesday, burying her face in the girl’s stomach, tears soaking the fabric of Wednesday’s hoodie. She desperately grabbed handfuls of the piece of clothing, weakly holding onto her roommate.

Enid could feel Wednesday’s stare. Could feel the apprehension and the hesitation.

But the next thing she felt surprised her. A hand on the back of her head, and a second one rubbing her back gently.

A wave of calm washed over her as she physically felt Wednesday, as she realized that they were both okay. That everything had, in the end, turned out fine. It was incredible how grounding it was to feel Wednesday's reciprocated touch.

And Wednesday didn’t try to pull away either. She just stood there, letting Enid cry into her. Letting Enid take as much time as she needed. Wednesday held her. It was so out of character for her, so jarring that it almost immediately snapped Enid out of her panic.

Enid pulled away from Wednesday after a few moments had passed, looking up at her through tearful eyes. “I’m sorry.” She whispered, looking away, her grip on Wednesday’s hoodie strengthening. She felt ashamed, breaking down like that in front of her stoic roommate.

It was quiet for a long moment, before Wednesday responded. “It’s alright.”

Her voice was gentle, like nothing Enid had ever heard from her before. She should have known something would change between them the moment Wednesday reciprocated her hug. And while the change wasn’t unwelcome, it was still something to get used to.

An awkward pause filled the void of conversation until Wednesday spoke again. “You were whimpering in your sleep. Usually you just ground your teeth together. I figured something was wrong, so I came over to check. You were crying.”

Enid laughed bitterly, a small and weak laugh. Her voice was hoarse when she spoke. “It was nothing. Sorry. Just a nightmare.”

Wednesday watched Enid for a few moments, her eyes scrutinizing. Enid felt uncomfortable under her gaze, shifting as she pulled her knees to her chest. “You’ve been getting them almost every night.” Wednesday stated. Enid remained silent, unwilling to share the specifics of her nightmares with Wednesday.

Unfortunately, Wednesday was as observant as ever, always finding some way to read Enid despite her lack of emotional intelligence. “You never used to have them. It started after that night.”

Silence. 

Enid pursed her lips, trying to decide what the best way to approach the situation was. Should she tell Wednesday about the nightmares she’d been having? She felt weak because of it. Wednesday didn’t seem phased by all that had happened. So why was it that Enid was haunted by the “what ifs” of that night? Why was it that she couldn’t get Tyler - the Hyde - and her fight with him out of her head?

“It’s… nothing.” She mumbled sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head and avoiding eye contact, all telltale signs of lying. “This is me asking you about them, Enid. You have one chance to talk. I simply won’t mention it again if you choose not to.” Wednesday bluntly remarked.

Enid bit the inside of her cheek, mulling it over. Things were different now. The two of them had been intertwined by the battle, their lives tied together now. Enid had wolfed out <em>for</em> Wednesday. She’d never forget that. And she’d never forget the look on Wednesday’s face right before she’d hugged Enid. Enid still couldn’t put her finger on what emotion Wednesday had been conveying, her eyes wide open, eyebrows furrowed. But she knew Wednesday had been feeling something meaningful towards Enid at that moment. Because the next thing she knew, Wednesday was wrapping her arms around her, swaying side to side.

“They’re about you.” Enid finally admitted, looking up at Wednesday and letting her eyes meet that intense stare that she’d grown to love. “Every single time. I watch him rip into you. I never make it on time.”

Wednesday’s eyebrows pulled together, though her eyes were softened. It was an expression of care, of worry. Before speaking, she sat down on the bed next to Enid. Enid seemed surprised by the gesture, given that Wednesday absolutely hated color and everything to do with Enid’s side of the room. Yet here the morbid girl was sitting on her bright bedsheets without complaint. “You did save me, Enid. You made it on time. Were it not for you, I wouldn’t have survived.”

Enid couldn’t understand how Wednesday could talk about death so nonchalantly. How she could speak about that night, that near-death experience as if it were just another day. Though with the things Wednesday had told her about her life, the taxidermy kit that she was gifted on her birthday, the things she was drawn to, Enid supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that nearly being killed by a monster was just another thing to cross off on Wednesday’s bucket list.

“But what if I hadn’t? What if he comes back, and I can’t save you? I should have- I should have killed him.” Enid felt the anxiety returning, clamping around her heart with an iron fist. Squeezing it until she was reaching for her chest, clawing, trying to release her heart from the cage that had formed around it.

Wednesday blinked. “I don’t understand. There is no use dwelling on what could have happened, because it did not happen.” Wednesday’s eyes flickered down to Enid’s hand. It was clenched tightly over her chest, the fabric of the wolf’s shirt bunched up.

Enid saw a hand enter her vision and rest over her own. The hand was ice-cold. She looked up, knowing it belonged to Wednesday, but needing visual confirmation. She’d never thought that Wednesday would be so open to touch, even small touches like this one. Sure, she’d always let Enid touch her, but she’d never initiated it.

Her hand began to relax under Wednesday’s. Her roommate’s monotone voice pierced through the quiet once again. “Taking a life is…” Wednesday paused, thinking for a moment before continuing, “It’s a taxing act. It erodes the soul, little by little. Some can handle it. Some cannot. Surprisingly, I don’t wish to find out which you are.”

Enid looked up at her, tears forming in her eyes. “I’m just scared.” She whispered. “I was scared. I don’t… I don’t know if I can just get over that…”

A conflicted expression flickered over Wednesday’s face. Enid clenched her jaw. She knew that comforting wasn’t Wednesday’s strong suit. She knew the girl was struggling, reaching for the right words to say, trying to think how Enid did. She appreciated the effort. Much more than Wednesday likely realized.

“I understand.” Wednesday lowered her voice. “You may not be able to heal from it so easily. That isn’t a measure of your strength. It’s not a measure of who you are.”

“But you…” Enid trailed off, but her intentions were clear. Wednesday seemed to have recovered so fast. Like what happened was normal to her, nothing to worry about.

Wednesday froze, her eyes shifting between Enid’s. “I… have many regrets. About what I’ve done. My actions, and how they affected others. I have not… I have not recovered fully from what happened.” She admitted slowly, carefully. As if being vulnerable was a strategic decision, something she had to tiptoe around.

Enid’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked closely at Wednesday’s, a frown pulling at her lips. “It wasn’t your fault, you know. That you trusted them.”

Wednesday broke eye contact to look towards their split window. “I should have known.”

“You couldn’t have.” Enid argued, feeling some of her confidence dissipate as Wednesday retracted her hand.

“There were signs. I was too busy investigating the wrong people. He was too pushy, too clingy. I assumed he was just…” She trailed off, a conflicted expression on her face matching the whirlwind of emotions that Wednesday had felt at the time of the betrayal. “I don’t know what I was thinking. It seemed right. I was curious.”

Enid shook her head. “You don’t have to rationalize everything. You were manipulated. That doesn’t make you weak.”

Wednesday stayed silent, her expression stony. Clearly she thought otherwise. Enid knew her too well, knew that she’d already convinced herself everything was her fault. That there was evidence she missed, that she’d been sloppy. That she’d let herself be bested in all the worst ways.

Her eyes were drawn back to Enid when the werewolf sighed softly. “I know you don’t believe me. But even though you did nothing wrong, for what it’s worth, I forgive you.”

Wednesday’s eyebrows twitched, a small tug together, the tiniest sign of a vulnerable emotion.

“And it’s fine anyways, right? I kicked his butt.” Enid said with a smile, her hand subconsciously reaching up to touch the scars that now adorned her face.

“They’re wondrous.” Wednesday muttered under her breath. It was instinctual, a need to say what had been on her mind since she saw the blood dripping from Enid’s face.

Enid’s eyes snapped to Wednesday’s. The girl was admiring her scars with a hint of affection showing on her face. “What?” She asked hesitantly, unsure if she had heard Wednesday correctly.

Wednesday’s cheeks tinged a shade darker than usual, making Enid’s heart jump into her throat. “Your scars, I meant. They’re…” The girl trailed off, her heartbeat picking up. 

Enid could hear it beating quicker. Her own heart sped up to match Wednesday’s, their hearts beating in time as one. “They’re…” She repeated, waiting for Wednesday to continue.

“Breathtaking.” Wednesday’s voice was louder. She meant what she was saying, that much was clear. “A symbol of how you protected me. Permanent reminders that you were willing to sacrifice your life for mine. Marks that show your bravery. They command respect.”

Enid looked away as she felt her own face heat up. “It’s not… It’s not that impressive.” She mumbled, unsure how to take a compliment from Wednesday.

“That’s incorrect. It is that impressive.” Wednesday insisted. Enid had no choice but to agree. If there were two things she knew about Wednesday, they were that she’d say whatever was on her mind bluntly, and that she was incredibly stubborn about her thoughts and opinions. Once she had her mind set on something, there was no way to turn it away from that.

A comfortable quiet fell between the two of them as they looked at each other, an unspoken understanding passing between them. An unspoken understanding of the shifted dynamic between them. Of just how deeply their bond ran, now that Enid was permanently scarred. An unspoken understanding of the extent they would go for each other.

Enid could feel something stirring deep within her. And from the look on Wednesday’s face, her roommate could feel it too.

Both of them jolted, breaking eye contact. Enid looked down at her lap, and Wednesday looked towards the window. “We should go back to sleep. Classes in the morning and everything.” Enid said nervously, a slight tremor in her voice.

Eyeing her from the side, Wednesday nodded. “You’re right. It is quite early. I suppose we should retire for these last hours before dawn.” Wednesday stood up, taking a few steps towards her bed before stopping and turning. “Will you be alright?”

Enid nodded, anxious. “You know me. I’ll bounce right back.” She forced a smile. But she should have known Wednesday would see right through it.

“Well…” Wednesday started, hesitating. “I’ll be right across from you. Do not be afraid to wake me, should you need the extra reassurance.”

Before Wednesday could take another step, Enid stopped her. “Wait, Wends-” She bit her lip. “Wednesday,” Enid corrected herself quickly. “Could you stay with me? Until I fall asleep. I just… want to know you’re there.”

Wednesday’s eyes darted around the room after Enid voiced her request, her mind working. But there was no way she could deny her roommate such a simple task. “Of course I can.” She made her way back to Enid’s bed, sitting at the foot of it with her hands folded in her lap. “You can sleep. Rest assured I will be here.”

“Thank you.” Enid mumbled timidly, laying down and getting herself situated under the covers. She slept facing the room, so she’d be able to see Wednesday in the corner of her vision. She could see Wednesday facing outwards, but could tell that her roommate was watching her using her peripheral vision.

“Sleep well, Enid.” Wednesday spoke softly under her breath.

Enid couldn’t begin to describe the amount of safety she felt knowing that Wednesday was right there. With Wednesday sitting on her bed, providing the slight dip of weight, Enid knew that everything was going to be alright. They were safe now. She’d fought Tyler and won. She’d saved Wednesday. The two of them were practically inseparable, and Enid knew in her heart that they would continue to be for the remainder of their time at Nevermore, even possibly further in the future.

And the next morning, their unspoken understanding continued. Especially when Enid woke up to see Wednesday slumped against the wall, sleeping peacefully in an upright position on Enid’s bed.

Neither of them commented on it. But given the small detail that Wednesday was still asleep when Enid woke up when she was usually ready for classes by the time Enid woke up, Enid could only assume that she wasn’t the only one who had slept the best she ever had that night.

[artbyclo-again]

Rambling about character development in the new digital circus episode because holy moly i have a lot of thoughts

god this episode was so wonderful for fully rounding out the characters so far because we got to see parts of each character that we didn’t really see as much in the pilot

(im gonna put a cut so this post doesn’t take too much space but i talk about each of the human characters here)

i could make a whole separate post about pomnis development this ep but she especially is a great example of this; she spends almost the entire pilot panicking (she has some moments like with ragatha where she tries staying calm and figuring things out but she’s still clearly stressed the whole time) meanwhile in this ep despite how she’s still miserable in the beginning, unlike the pilot where we mainly saw other characters (mostly just ragatha and sometimes caine) reassuring/guiding her, she has a moment to calm down and we even see her empathize with another character and try reassure him.

i feel like her little heart to heart with gummigoo is a turning point for her this episode, it helps her realize and talk about her own worries of feeling like nothing to the other castmates and it gives her more confidence and comfort having someone going through the same issue, it’s after this that she seems more open to the other castmates particularly ragatha compared to how much she seemed to shut down interactions in the beginning of the ep or just not respond. and then!!! seeing how they still hold a funeral for each abstraction to remember them shows her how much the other characters still care and value eachother and that would soon include her as well!!

speaking of ragatha we also see her still going with her same habits in the pilot; focusing on putting the other performers first, comforting them and in pomnis case, trying to sweep the whole “you leaving me” thing under the rug despite still seeming hurt by it and pomni still feeling guilty. this is how she copes but we see how much these habits backfire on her; they don’t properly communicate and talk about what happened in the pilot, pomni doesn’t fully apologize because she spaces out while ragathas talking (i can imagine this might bottle up for the both of them and lead to conflict later) and despite her good intent she unintentionally comes off as patronizing “i’m not a child you don’t have to hype me up”

in the pilot ragathas more of a comforting/guiding character but in this episode we see her worry about pomni the whole time knowing how horrible her first day was but with how overwhelmed pomni still is she’s not able to reciprocate any of ragathas interactions. We see how this stresses ragatha out because again helping others is how she copes, she doesn’t know what to do when this doesn’t work and immediately thinks of the worst, that pomni doesn’t like her until kinger reassures her that she just needs time

AND SPEAKING OF WHICH, KINGER!!! ITS KINGER WHO REASSURES HER he’s still pretty out of it like we see in the pilot but he has that moment of being a more grounding figure for ragatha which is really nice because again we mainly see ragatha being the one trying to comfort the other characters! and it also gives a lot more insight into his character; despite his memory issues and trauma he still cares a lot about the other characters and tries helping and giving them advice when he’s able to

we also see more of zoobles character even though they were barely in the episode. they were pretty blunt and uncaring towards the other performers in the pilot but spent the entire episode off screen preparing kaufmos funeral!

jax and gangle weren’t super different from the pilot but there were some parts of their characters that were still expanded on that’s worth talking about i think

jax was just….. a lot more aggressive this episode then the pilot LMFAO we already knew he was gonna be an ass so it’s not really a surprise but it’s fun seeing the more chaotic parts of his personality; not just that but in the pilot there was a moment when kaufmo was being put in the cellar where he looked mad but they definitely emphasized his mask breaking more in this ep when they mentioned the funeral. I really think he cares about the abstractions a lot more then he lets on but he doesn’t want to be seen in a emotionally vulnerable way and that’s why he didn’t attend the funeral. i think he’s such a jerk to the other characters because he doesn’t wanna get attached to them because there’s always a chance they could abstract so i’m really interested on how he’s gonna develop later down the line

we got to see gangle with her comedy mask!! in the beginning!! i loved her screentime but there isn’t much i can think of to say at the moment but we did see some of her art too which is so cute to me and also upsetting because she drew her and kaufmo laughing becAUSE SHE FELT GUILTY ABOUR NOT LAUGHING AT HIS JOKES 😭😭 i like to think she draws art for the other characters pretty frequently…

anyways thanks for reading i just really needed to ramble abt this ep i really loved it

[heyitsspiders]

Bitten Apple ~ AdamsApple Fic - CHAPTER 5

Adam and Lucifer deal with their actions

Ao3 Link

a/n: AAAA IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER! i've been getting back into a few games recently so i've been putting time into that and i've just also generally been less motivated to write so i can't be so sure when the next chapter will be out -- so please bare with me! again, so sorry this took forever

Aftermath

Lucifer panted heavily, chest heaving as he slowly came down from his high. He looked down at Adam under him, he was so fucking good like this with Lucifer’s cock inside him…

Wait…

Reality crashed onto Lucifer – he had just fucked Adam, the man who had hurt his daughter, destroyed her hotel and murdered one of his daughter’s friends. Oh good golly gracious he was the worst father ever. How would he tell Charlie this – should he? He looked back down at Adam, who had apparently fallen asleep, and shook his head – think later, remove dick now.

He carefully pulled his sensitive dick from Adam and began cleaning up and putting his clothes back on. Once they were no longer covered in cum, he stood there looking over Adam – what was he going to do? Lucifer didn’t want to just leave him here – he was the Devil, not a monster – nor did he just want to send him off to his own room alone. 

Lucifer face palmed, grumbling. How could he let this happen?  And why did he feel the need to be so nice to him now? Of course it could be just the aftermath of sex and wanting that comfort, plus it just felt wrong to have him wake up alone. 

“Urgghhhh,” Lucifer groaned before he waved his hand, comfy loose clothing appearing on Adam’s bare skin. Within another second they were both snapped into Lucifer’s bedroom.

He shouldn’t be doing this, this was a horrible man that had done so many bad things… But man, Adam had somehow had some good points in their back and forths. He had tricked Eve, even if he hadn’t meant to.

“I don’t care about them leaving me, I’m upset that you left me, dumbass!”

That’s what Adam had said, and definitely had meant it with how quickly he tried to retract that statement. Adam had missed Lucifer? More so, upset Lucifer left? He hadn’t even realized he had left the first man, he had Eve after all once Lilith got with Lucifer. 

Lucifer put a hand on his temple, it was too late and he was too drunk for this right now. He needed to sleep. He picked up Adam easily and set him on the far side of the bed and lazily threw the blanket over him before walking to the other end, put himself in his own pajamas and got cozy. It felt weird to have another person in the bed again but as Lucifer drifted to sleep, he quietly admitted that it was nice to no longer be alone.

Adam woke up the next morning from his bed dipping like someone was crawling out of bed – who the fuck was in the bed with him? He cracked open an eye and looked around. This was not his fucking room. Where was he??? He sat up, dull pain flowing through his body, and looked around.

“Goodmorning,” a voice to his left said, his head swung around only to be met with Lucifer’s dumb face. 

“What- why- what the fuck?” Adam stumbled for the right words, where was he, why were there so many fucking ducks around the room and why was Lucifer getting out of the same bed as Adam? Also, why were Adam’s clothes different?

“Do-” Lucifer started and quickly closed his mouth. He looked around again as if he was looking to see if someone was around before he spoke again, “...do you not remember last night?”

“No?” Adam scrapped his mind for the previous night's events, a hand to his head. 

“Well,” Lucifer tugged at the collar of some weird ass set of clothes that had fucking ducks on them? What was this man’s obsession with ducks? “I made you quite a few drinks and we both got really drunk.”

That sounded familiar, his memory was slowly trickling back to him. Lucifer made him some actually good drinks, they drank a lot, then they talked… He felt like he was missing a big important part that explained why the fuck he had slept with Lucifer. 

The last piece of the puzzle clicked – holy shit he had actually slept with Lucifer. His face grew extremely hot.

“Oh my fucking God, no, that didn’t- I’m not gay!” Adam protested. It was a bad dream, that hadn’t actually happened.

Lucifer sat on the edge of the bed, and cleared his throat, “uhm, yeah. It- it yeah it did happen.” 

At least Lucifer didn’t seem happy about this either – Adam couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing, like no he wasn’t queer but come on! He was Adam! Who wouldn’t like sex with the first dick! 

Lucifer avoided eye contact but still had that layer of calm – Adam couldn’t understand how when the man had literally been balls deep in him. Gross, Adam didn’t like that thought – “we can forget this happened.”

Adam nodded quickly, “yes, I agree. This never fucking happened, goodbye.” He swung his legs off the bed and made his way to the door – walking was really hard for some reason that Adam refused to think about for too long – before realizing he had no idea where his room was from here. 

Adam inhaled sharply, pissed. He would fucking figure it out on his own, he didn’t want to talk to Lucifer anymore right now. He pushed open the door and stormed off down some fuckass hallway, seething. Anger pooled inside of him as he recounted the previous night’s events, he was just so pissed off at Lucifer. And he was mad at himself too – why hadn’t he beaten Lucifer to a pulp? Why had he gone along with it? And the fucking noises he had made, Adam cringed just thinking about it. Worst fucking part was Adam had enjoyed it, even now he couldn’t deny how fucking amazing it had felt – but he didn’t dwell on that part for very long. He’d much rather not think about it.

He continued turning down hallways and going down the numerous stairways, shoving a few vases and lamps off their little tables to relieve some anger, until he finally stumbled upon a part of this maze mansion that looked familiar. Now he should just be able to take this left and – finally! His room. He shoved the door open before slamming it behind him, launching himself onto his bed and burying his head in a pillow.

Muffled screams echoed in the quiet room while Adam shouted into the pillow – this was all so fucking stupid. Stupid Lucifer, stupid drinks, all of it! He wasn’t gay, he didn’t like dick, he didn’t like men, he wasn’t a fag, he wasn’t gay– 

Fuck! Why did Lucifer have to fuck him? And why did Adam let it happen? Lucifer had given him an out, he had given Adam the chance to end that interaction… But he didn’t and he had no idea why. And Goddamnit he enjoyed it too! His face burned as he recounted how Lucifer pounded his ass so hard he swore he was in Heaven again. He violently shook his head and sat up, hands itching to destroy something. He was pissed and needed to take out his anger on something to take his mind off of Lucifer.  

Adam shoved himself off the bed and scanned the dirty floor for something he didn’t care about. His eyes caught on book – perfect, he didn’t care too much for reading. He wouldn’t miss it. He bent down and snatched it up into his claws, making quick work of tearing it into two. Pages fluttered down onto the ground as Adam continued ripping it, words becoming unreadable as they became shredded by Adam’s furious claws. Once the book was just a pile of scraps he moved onto another book, then another, and another. He wasn’t sure when he started shaking, maybe he had been the whole time, Adam didn’t know. His throat burned but fuck him if he was going to cry again – he’d done enough of that these past few days for the rest of his life. 

When all the books and other objects he wouldn’t miss were heaps of trash he finally stopped, panting and lightly sweating. His chest was heaving as his sharp eyes scanned the wreckage – this was so fucking stupid. Adam, reduced to a mere bitch for the Devil. 

Adam sat down on his bed, claws clenching the sheets. Was he gay? Did- did he like men? But he liked women! His children and time in Heaven proved that – he couldn’t be gay.. Right? 

It finally clicked – he enjoyed it because Lucifer was small and feminine. He didn’t like men, Lucifer was just woman-like. 

It felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders as he let out a sigh of relief. Thank God that issue was solved, though it did leave a lingering question:

Should he continue hooking up with Lucifer?

His immediate answer was no – why the fuck would he want to?... But also, fuck, game is game. Why shouldn’t he take free pleasure? Adam was stuck in this damn circus tent, might as well have a little fun, right? Plus, he didn’t have to worry about his actions making him a faggot – it’s a win-win in Adam’s book. Though a weird feeling lingered in his chest despite the reassurance of his straightness – is this really what he should be doing? Fucking the only person he has contact with because Lucifer looks close enough to a woman? Adam cringed, it sounded way worse when he thought of it like that – it sounded like he was some desperate whore for whatever dick he could find and Adam hated it. 

“Urrgh!” Adam exclaimed as he pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes as he fell backwards on his mattress. Why did this have to be so difficult? Why can’t this just be over like some awful nightmare?

Fuck this.

Fuck Lucifer – not literally.

Fuck everything! 

This is all fucking bullshit that Adam shouldn’t have to be dealing with. He wouldn’t be dealing with this if that bitch ass maid didn’t stab him to death. 

Exhaustion from his totally-not-a-tantrum started to set in, but he really didn’t want to sleep – he literally just woke up. So he just laid there, looking up at the ceiling and he debated back ‘n forth on what to do.

Lucifer paced around his room, fingers passing through every part of his hair as he tried to collect his thoughts. Okay, he fucked Adam, huge problem. Bigger problem, he wanted more.

He stopped in front of his vanity mirror to look at himself. He had changed out of his sleepwear and now was wearing more suitable day clothes — a simple white collared shirt with black pants, Lucifer couldn’t be bothered to try today. 

“This is fine, it’s fine, everything is fine,” he lied to his reflection. Nothing was fine and he knew it.

“Things will return to normal, like it never happened. No one else needs to know.”

His own eyes bore into him as he stared hard at his reflection. He was pathetic. Lucifer sat down on the stool in front of the desk and leaned against his propped up hand, sighing. How was he supposed to look at Adam without thinking of his face contorted in pleasure and bliss? Lucifer’s face grew hot at the memory — Adam begging for more, for Lucifer. 

A sense of pride bubbled up in his chest — the self proclaimed “dickmaster” reduced to a whimpering mess under the very Devil he hated — It was too good. As the events replayed in his head and he laughed softly to himself, shaking his head — things would not go back to normal, and honestly? Lucifer didn’t care. He would enjoy this and he was sure Adam would too if his blissed out face was anything to go by. 

Lucifer chewed on the inside of his cheek, of course, there was the big possibility that Adam wouldn’t want that — which Lucifer could live with. At the very least he got to do it once and if that wasn’t Adam’s style then he can settle for just making him pay via other means. Lucifer chuckled to himself as he recounted how embarrassed Adam had been following his orders — oh yeah, he’d be just fine ordering him around until the first man learns that he isn’t as great as he thinks. 

He stood up, combing his hair slick back with his hands, he’d bring it up to Adam when he next saw him – which he figured wouldn’t be for awhile. He’d give him two days to recover, after that Lucifer is talking to him whether Adam likes it or not – Lucifer can’t be too nice to the bitch. Afterall, Adam deserved every crisis Lucifer was sure he was having.

The next two days went just about as Lucifer expected – he’d wake up, get changed, eat, and maybe even briefly see Adam, who would instantly turn tail when he saw Lucifer. It felt quite lonely and boring if he was being honest. He had grown to enjoy poking fun at Adam and watching him get all pissy but with this grace period he couldn’t do anything. Of course, Lucifer debated not giving him any mercy but he felt like this wasn’t something Lucifer could just bring right back up. Lucifer took to making another duck with his extra freetime – any resemblance to Adam was a total coincidence.

It wasn’t Adam! It was just a rubber duck with little lamb ears and curved horns and little spikes and okay yeah it was basically Adam – but it was merely because Lucifer was curious how he’d look as a rubber duck considering he is such a mashup of different things. You got some sheep, human, demon, bird and man-child. Quite the combination. 

By the end of the second day the basic shape was done – sure, he could just magic it complete but he really enjoyed crafting these small rubber ducks and adding every single little detail by hand. It made it all the more rewarding. It was late into the evening when Lucifer finally set the rubber work in progress down on his workshop desk to be finished at a later date. He stood and stretched with his arms above his head as he yawned. Tomorrow he’d talk to Adam and finally set this whole thing straight – or well, not straight depending on how things went. Lucifer rubbed his eye as he made his way down the halls to his room, eventually passing by Adam’s door and resisting the urge to barge in or at least knock. His hand reached out for the cool metal knob and twisted, the door hinges creaking every so slightly as he pushed the door open and walked into his own room. However, his room wasn’t as empty as he expected it to be, instead, there were a pair of brilliant golden eyes staring at him from his bed, causing Lucifer to jump nearly five feet off the floor – it was incredible Lucifer didn’t scream or blast the intruder’s head off.

He put a hand to chest as his eyes finally made out the figure on his bed – Adam. “Adam, what are you doing in my room?” He snapped.

Adam rolled his eyes, “calm down, bitch.” He folded his arms, “I decided I uh-” he swallowed, “that I didn’t want to forget.”

He blinked several times at him before speaking, “what?”

Adam scowled, ears pinned “I’m not fucking saying it again. You either heard me or you didn’t.”

Lucifer shook his head, waving his hands, “no, no, I heard you – I just, didn’t expect.. This?” 

He huffed, “the fuck does that mean?” 

“I didn’t think you’d want to as well, is all,” Lucifer said, shrugging.

Adam avoided eye contact, face growing a bit red, “so.. are we… gonna..?”

“Right now?”

“Well fucking yeah! Why else would I come into your dumbass room?” Lucifer grimaced – he didn’t like how commanding and entitled Adam was acting. He’d fix this.

He cocked an eyebrow, “and what makes you think that I’ll comply?”

Adam paused at his, mouth agape as if people saying ‘no’ to him or just implying they wouldn’t do what he wanted was new – which, it probably was. Lucifer shook his head, walking closer to the other man, “If you want me to fuck you then you have to ask nicely-” Lucifer hanked Adam’s horns, causing the man’s head to turn upwards, “-pet.” 

It was so much fun watching Adam swallow hard and try to recover from what just happened to him, his dazed and wild eyes, his burning red face, all of it like a treat for Lucifer’s eyes. He released his grip and shifted into sleepwear as he walked around to the other side of the bed.

“If you ask nicely tomorrow and behave then I’ll agree, but for now I’m very tired,” Lucifer stifled a yawn as he got into bed. “So, goodnight lamb.”

Adam just stared at Lucifer – for how long, he wasn’t sure. At some point Lucifer heard him slowly tucking himself in, grumbling to himself like a child that didn’t get the toy they wanted as Lucifer drifted to surprisingly peaceful sleep.  

Adam couldn’t sleep at all, his mind running five million miles a second with ideas and most notably regrets. He should not be fucking doing this, he should not have done this, he should have stayed in his room until Lucifer got bored and threw him out or something. Sure he wouldn’t last out there – much to the damage of his ego – but damnit if it wouldn’t be better than here… Right? 

He rolled over, now facing Lucifer – who was just somehow casually sleeping. For a brief moment he was back in the garden, laying next to Lucifer in the soft grass under the tall apple tree as the dark sky filled with bright stars, the gentle breeze flicking Lucifer’s golden locs back and forth. Everything was peaceful as they laid under the stars, Lucifer’s soft, warm hand in his until Adam blinked and he was back in the mansion, the stars, grass, tree, and peace gone in a flash.

Adam grumbled and rolled onto his back, a ripping sound behind his head shooting through his ears as he did – he fucking tore the pillow with his stupid, huge ass horns. He shoved the palms of his hands into his eyes as he gritted his teeth. Adam was suddenly hyper-aware of his new body – his claws, his ears, horns, fangs, hooves, everything! None of it was right, none of this should be happening… But it was and there was nothing Adam could do about it. He lowered his hands to his side, blankly staring up at the sheet that was draped above the bed.

There was nothing Adam could do.

Well, nothing Adam wanted to do.

He shouldn’t accept this, it wasn’t right and he shouldn’t stand for it!... But what other choice did he have? As much as Adam hoped, no one was fucking coming for him – they either thought he was dead and there was nothing they could do even if they knew he wasn’t. He was a sinner, a demon, nothing more than a piece of filth you eventually scrub off – but as much as he hated everything about Hell, it hadn’t been too bad all things considered. Even Lucifer, surprisingly.

Adam turned his head – much more carefully – and looked over at Lucifer again, still peacefully sleeping. Lucifer had been way less annoying recently and it was frustrating – it was making it harder to hate him when he was feeding and giving Adam a place to live. Maybe that’s why he had given in so easily, Adam wasn’t sure. There were too many conflicting thoughts in his head and he needed sleep that wouldn’t come to him – he was still fucking thinking about what Lucifer said to him. Adam hadn’t been sure what to expect when he told Lucifer that he did, in fact, want to have another round, but being fucking teased was not on the list. 

Before Adam knew it the light of the morning was creeping into the room through the small gap not covered by curtains. He groaned, he wasn’t sure if he had slept but if he did, it didn’t feel like it. His ears perked to the sound of rustling sheets to the side of him where Lucifer had been laying.

Ah, he was awake too. 

Adam could hear the other man sit up and yawn, presumably stretching as he did before sliding out of bed and walking to the connected bathroom. Adam sat up, rubbing his sore eyes. A headache was starting to form as his tiredness was starting to set in. Adam looked around the duck-covered room, it was almost impressive how many there were if it wasn’t a sad display. Adam jolted when the bathroom door opened once more, Lucifer coming out and looking at Adam.

“Good morning Adam, how’d you sleep?” Lucifer yawned.

“Like shit, hardly fucking slept,” Adam huffed.

Lucifer looked over him, “I can tell.” Adam opened his mouth to protest but stopped when Lucifer continued, “get some sleep.”

Adam blinked, “what?”

“Get some rest,” he simply restated. Before Adam could question his sudden tenderness he added, “you’ll need it.”

Adam stared at the other man, face hotter than the fucking sun as Lucifer just smiled at him. Lucifer clapped his hands together, his usual formal clothes appearing on his small frame, “Welp, I’m going to eat breakfast.” And with that, he walked out the room and was gone.

[luffyvace]

The Luffy Package ☠️📦

(General & relationship headcanons as well as Luffy quotes (relationship implied) for his big day!!)

had to go all out for my fav 😊🤭

General Luffy headcanons:

Luffy has nails so short dirt can’t get under it 😭

not necessarily the booty diggers 🤭

but just really short, like almost booty digger ig—but not it

he has like 1% nail

its not intentional, they just never grow

i have a feeling someone taught luffy how to dance

idk who

it was likely makino, shanks or some else he cares deeply about

but he learned early on and has been a great dancer ever since!

maybe at parties since they happen a lot in one piece ⭐️

But just because someone taught him doesn’t mean he was awful at dancing at first

maybe he was a natural!

feel the rhythm typa thing 🎶 🕺

it’d be funny if he was

cuz imagine a guy that can dance but can’t sing

how you gon dance on beat to a out of tune song?? 😭

at least to uta anyway

ive always loved Luffy’s singing‼️

he never thinks about what the one piece is

but would be the most disappointed if it isn’t something cool

this dude is NOT interested in books so if the one piece really is just joyboy’s tale i don’t think he’ll be satisfied..😭 (I’m talking about the theory)

he definitely wouldn’t say it was all for nothin tho

he still has nakama, treasure and is the pirate king!! 👑

but…the one piece as books is just a mega L for him

Robin will enjoy ♡

you know that thing he does where he stretches his face real big? Like the time he was tryna cheer nami up when she was sick? And it scared vivi and zoro?

he scared himself when he first realized he could do that too

he was bored and started messing around with his devil fruit

at first he was outside and he stretched his mouth, and when realized he could see inside it, he was like ‘I wonder what this looks like’

so he went inside and did it into a mirror

he somehow managed to trash the whole bathroom running away from his reflection

he quickly got over it and realized it was kinda funny

he showed Ace and sabo who also found it terrifying

then preceded to scare people with it ever since

d end! :)

I feel like he’s thought about what the ‘D’ in his name stands for too

He came up with a bunch of outrageous names that likely aren’t it..

”Dingus?”

”Donkey?”

”Demarto?”

”Doorbell?”

”Dinosaur?”

yeah, dinosaur seems the most plausible 😊

Luffy Dinosaur Monkey!

‘HEY THAT SOUNDS COOL 🤩’

yup, that’s probably what it stands for 😁

sneaks into the usopp factory whenever he’s not in there

he ends up playing with his creations and destroys, it, other projects, and the factory altogether in the progress

he then runs out laughing

usopp later returns to the ruins only to find his months work of his greatest creation yet named “ultimate captain usopp three thousand smasher” has been reduced to fragments of metal nothing ☺️

listen idk if oda has confirmed Luffy’s favorite color but I would say it’s none

why? The same reason why you can’t ask a toddler their’s, it’s just gonna constantly change and you know it’s not the truth

arguably, if I had to pick an actual color based off canon, (IK it’s a shade but wtv) it’d be white

why? wym? Don’t you remember that one ep where luffy sang a song about how he loves snow cuz it’s so white?

(one of his lesser talked about songs 😭💗)

Relationship Luffy headcanons:

Luffy as a partner is really rambunctious and loving

But do note that loving doesn’t always mean romantic

for him it means loving you a lot but not being lovey dovey when showing it

you need protecting? He’s on the case!! He can’t and he has to beat someone up? One of your nakama’ll do it so stay with them!

your strong? Perfect! He’s gonna go fight this guy so you go beat up that one!

why am I mentioning that? Because it shows he has a great sense of trust and faith in you

Of course he does with all his friends but your reasoning is different

not only are you his nakama, your also his partner!! Which means he loves you in a intimate way!! Not just platonically

I say “just” because I swear sometimes Luffy’ll feel like a friend with you (best friends and lover typa thing 💞) he’s just as goofy and chaotic with you as he is Usopp and chopper

he feels extra lively when around you and always wants to play, whether you like this or not. Your personality depends a lot on how your relationship with him is but I won’t dabble into that today because it’s his birthday. 🎉 but honestly it doesn’t matter if you punch him like nami or laugh like brook-

he’s still gonna bug you! 💖 seriously you can’t get rid of this dude 🤨 Luffy will drag you on every single one of his adventures so I hope your either brave or fearless like him. The only time you two separate and he allows it is when he’s fighting the boss type thing LOL. Like Doflamingo or smth.

that said Luffy isn’t clingy he just likes being around you and seeing what your doing. Especially when you haven’t landed on an island yet and he’s bored. He’s always singing, playing with your face (ironic cuz he’s the stretchy one) or trying to get you to play some silly game he made up

that usually somehow manages to tick everyone off. 🤷‍♀️

will grab your hands randomly and make you dance to some song he made up about literally anything he sees or feels

he even made one about YOU once :3

”OOOOOHHH your my partner! Yes my partner! We’re having lots of fun! Going on adventures- YAHOO!! And dancing a ton! We’ll dance all arcross the grand line!! Take your hats off and let them fly!! YIPPIE!! We’re having a graaaaand TIIIIIIIME!” 😁🕺

Luffy quotes: (implied relationship between you two)

”HEY LOOK DO YOU SEE THAT ISLAND!! Cmoncmoncmoncmoncmoncmon!! HURRY UP I WANNA GO EXPLORING!!”

”can you sneak in the kitchen and steal some food from sanji? I’m really hungry and he won’t let me in anymore!!”

”LETS HAVE A PARTY!!!” — “we don’t need a reason! CMON!’ CHEERS!”

”lets tame that thing and make it our pet!!”

”what should we name em?” — “Junpi? SOUNDS GOOD TO ME!!” (You didn’t get a chance to respond 💕)

”HEY LOOK A RESTAURANT!! Grab on I’ll rocket us there!! HURRY UP IM HUNGRYYY!!”

”hey! Do you have any food on you?? I’m hungry!”

”Liar!! I can smell it!!”

”take a bath?! I don’t stink!!— EUGH!- okay yeah maybe….but I don’t wanna take a bath!! I’ll get all tired!”

”I’ll leave you with that guy! So go kick some butt! I’ll deal with that red forehead guy!!” (AN: There’s no actual red forehead guy that’s canon, I made it up 👍)

”⁉️ HEY WHAT HAPPENED?! Did that guy beat you up?! I’ll send him flying!! 💢”

”Shishishishi! Shh! Watch this! I’m gonna drop this on Usopp’s head! 🤭😂”

”Lets play a gaaaaame!! I’m so bored! 😞”

”can I have some of your food?” *Already stuffing a piece in his mouth* (the point is it’s not the whole thing ⁉️😱)

”HE LOOK MY BOUNTY WENT UP!! 🤩🤩‼️“

”Isn’t this fun?! 😆” (having a near death experience)

”don’t worry! My injuries don’t hurt at all! See? I’m dancing! I’m having fun!”

”oops. Sorry.”

”look!” (Two chop sticks stuffed up his nose and mouth)

”WOAHH A MAN KILLING BEAR!! LETS GO CHECK IT OUT! 🤩” (even if you wanted to say no your already being hoisted over there because you weren’t running fast enough for him)

”plan? Never mind that!! Let’s go! We’re gonna kick that butt head guys’ butt!!” (AN: another fictional villain I made up on a whim)

”HOLD ON TIGHT” (Gum Gum Rockets with hardly any warning)

”let’s play a game!! It’s called steal zoro’s swords without waking up zoro!! 😁”

”nyop!” (Puts you atop his shoulders 💓)

”nyop!” (Jumps on your back almost knocking you over 💝)

”look at my disguise! Nobody will suspect us! 😎👍”

”Cmere!” (Pulls you into his lap)

”HI! Is it almost time for dinner yet?” (Plops down in your lap)

Thanks for supporting me and my work—as well as my random disappearances too 💗🤗

Everyone! Say it!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LUFFY‼️‼️

[queendomkey]

I feel its no secret that I try to analyze the songs within the context of the album and that alone. I think there's so much artistry that is often ignored when trying to focus so solely on passing paternity tests about parables told by the potential paramour's songs. ( ok, I really reached for that alliteration, sorry. )

But like, I've been a Swiftie since 06. I do know that these songs are about Taylor Swift's life, and frankly, I wouldn't have it any other way. Empathy and connection are what, I think, her music is about. How deeply personal is absolutely part of the appeal.

I feel like this acknowledgement will definitely be more prescient in analyses to come, but... god, god, this song is heartbreaking, and it feels so personal. Some songs are vertical slices of the author's life, and dear god, does this feel like one.

Suppose the only thing left to do is place the slide under the microscope, yeah?

There's so much to go into here. The song is so mired in death. There's loss and grief, but this one feels more potent. The speaker isn't trying to justify her grief to other people this time, isn't trying to preempt it (see: Down Bad, saying she was heaven struck, even if for such a short time.)

We open on the title, framed in the same interval as church bells ( and Big Ben ) and throughout the song, we realize that the bells are for a funeral. Cause of death: disaffection and depression.

Can I say? I really love the delivery on the very first verse. I saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist. She delivers it so softly, so warmly, with the last bit of hope the song holds. Fairy lights could be so many things - it could be literal, the fairy lights on someone's porch. It can also be literal for the homophonic meaning: ferry lights, seeing the boat leave as she says goodbye to London. It could be the mythic suggestion of the will o' the wisp, which exist to mislead the traveler who sees them. Perhaps our speaker's later actions are all in vain, because she was following ghostlights.

She tells the audience all she did to try and save her love. Kept calm and carried the weight of the rift. Keep Calm and Carry On being, memeticly, a piece of propaganda distributed in Great Britain during the lead up to WWII. This tells us that perhaps she tried to ignore the ways her relationship was failing, and then, when that didn't work, pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away.

Then, she tells us how her clinging hurt her. To hold so tightly to someone causes muscles to ache, and even the speaker says, [Her] spine split from carrying [them] up the hill. The speaker is starting to lose hope, here, I think. As she sees how much she's putting in, and how little her lover is giving back.

I left all I knew, you left me at the house by the heath. / I stopped CPR / I was going down with [the ship.]

It is so clear, through vocal desperation and how deep Taylor's notes get, that the speaker gave everything she had to try and save this romance. But she was only given "quiet resentment" in return.

I try to only pull from TTPD for these posts, but the talk of going down with the ship, the imagery of rain ( wet through my clothes ) it all brings to mind just... One thing. Well, actually, two things:

Rain as a symbol of depression is very classic shorthand. We call rainy days "gloomy." I feel like, very obviously, the Speaker's lover is depressed, but I think, less obviously: the speaker is too.

How much sad did you think I had in me?

For me, it calls to mind an old friend, who was going through a dark spot at the same time as me. They... refused to work on getting better, and I hate to say it, but yes, getting better is such nasty work. In a way, the Speaker is expressing that too. She was putting in the nasty work of keeping their relationship together, but also, of putting herself back together.

And her lover didn't. He swore he loved her, but the speaker died on the altar waiting for the proof. You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days. Refusing to care, allowing yourself to wallow in depression when someone else is doing the work for you, will be the final straw in many relationships.

I think, by tying the two together, over this running beat, the speaker is explaining why she has to go. Why, for her own mental health, the relationship must end, before she, too, is sacrificed.

I founded the club she's heard great things about.

The speaker put so much work into the relationship (and by proxy, her lover's mental health) that she feels she reinvented her lover. And as he finds new loves, ones who've heard 'great things' about him, she feels resentment... And yet, she also doesn't. After all, she still says that they:

Had a good run / a moment of warm sun / but I'm not the one

In the end, though worsening mental health played a role, the death knell was the all too real: changing hearts and minds. Life went on, and the speaker and her lover fell out of love with each other. The Speaker could no longer choose to stay, not when their love was so obviously corpse cold. I stopped CPR, after all, it's no use.

She knows she'll take blame (You say I abandoned the ship,) for being the one to officially pull the plug. In the context of this song, though, the blame lays with everyone and no one. Some romance can't be resuscitated, and to continue to try well beyond expiration only creates dull, dying pangs.

Taylor creates such a living picture, for such a dying love, and it's genuinely such good songwriting.

[g0nta-g0kuhara]

Okay hear me out. non-despair au where Mondo and Taka are basically already dating because of How They Are but Mondo only actually realizes he's bi when he inexplicably gets a crush on Gonta and has no idea what he's feeling or what to do about it

[radiantmists]

man especially having now read the flashbacks i think about how hard xie lian always tries and how many people have told him that he tries too hard, that he never should have bothered and that doing so made things worse, or even more commonly just hating on him for not fixing things or being arrogant or whatever they think his problem is. and some of those people are probably even coming from caring places!

but before hua cheng, had anyone ever sat next to him and said, you tried and that's good, it matters that you cared, you did your best. nobody could have done better than you.

how badly must xie lian have needed that?

[osoreruna]

i even narrate all might replies differently than toshinori replies 💀

[void-botanist]

Rose's Kiss Week Day 5: Lonely

OCs: Marcus Asalun (aka Anchesh Pabat) and Gren Orech-Pabat

Words: 1335

Content warnings: mentions of family health issues

Notes: this takes place six months after Anchesh married his last spouse, human himbo Gren.

At the other end of the sofa, Gren sighed for the tenth time in as many minutes.  He was staring off at the other end of the room, chin propped up in one big hand, and more than likely didn’t even realize he sounded so despondent.  

“How are you doing?” Anchesh asked.

“I’m fine.  It’s just lonely without Yera.”

Probably it was best not to talk too much about Yera, because Gren would only get sadder if he started thinking about why Yera was out of town and how stressed she must be.  Instead Anchesh put aside his knitting.  

“I’m probably not as good at cuddling as Yera,” he said, moving to the cushion next to Gren, “but I’m here.”

Gren instantly pivoted and deflated into his lap, settling one cheek against his thigh and a hand over his knee.  Today Gren’s hair was held in a bunlike fold with just an alligator clip, which Anchesh gently pulled out and set on the open cushion beside him.  Then he combed his fingers back through Gren’s loose locks.

“I feel bad being lonely,” Gren murmured.  “Her family needs her way more than I do, and I’m not alone here.”

“You’re her family too,” Anchesh answered in the same low tone.  “And it doesn’t feel the same, not having her here.”

“Yeah.”  Gren squeezed his leg a little, like he needed something to cling to.  

Anchesh let Gren’s hair slip through his fingers over and over, massaging Gren’s scalp with each draw.  Truth be told, he was worried about Yera too.  She would be fine, unless her father got worse.  He probably wouldn’t die, not yet, but the wondering and waiting felt unsettling enough for him at home—it must be awful for her.  She was right to have the rest of them stay behind, except Hossan, because sooner or later they’d all be at loose ends and end up making her feel worse.  But he still wished he could be there to hold her and talk to her, probably just the same as Gren.  

“Maybe I don’t spend enough time with the rest of you,” Gren said suddenly.  “Especially you.”

“I don’t mind how much time you spend with Yera and Hossan,” Anchesh answered.

“Yeah, but—” Gren rose from his lap, slowly enough that he didn’t pull his own hair in Anchesh’s hands.  With his hair pushed behind his ears, he said, “I’m your husband too.  And you don’t get tired of me like Pali does.  I would leave you alone if you wanted me to but you’ve never told me to do that.”

Anchesh handed him the alligator clip.  “I mean, I’m happy to spend more time with you.  I just don’t want you to worry too much about it.”

Gren stared at nothing while he smoothed his hair back into a ponytail and clipped it there.  Then he continued looking at some spot further down the sofa.  “Anchesh...do you love me?”

It was a serious question that deserved a serious answer, but Anchesh was distracted by the plaintiveness of Gren’s voice.  Had this been worrying him for the last six months?  

Gren waited two seconds before adding, “Not like you love Yera or Umedes, but...”

He took Gren’s hand from his lap, and Gren looked up.  “I do love you, Gren.  You’re my friend.  And my husband.  And I’m glad I married you.”

“Really?”  He didn’t seem entirely convinced.

“Really.  I would have married you just for Yera and Hossan, but I like having you around too.  You’re so bright, and lovely, and you always make sure we have what we need.  And—”

“I think Pali does that.”

“Pali doesn’t keep everyone upbeat,” Anchesh said.  “And she’s definitely not good at making sure we all rest, especially not herself.  I think she’s gotten more sleep in the six months you’ve been here than she has since I married her.”  Gren didn’t say anything, so he kept going.  “We need someone who’s as thoughtful as you are.  I need someone who is.”  An almost melancholy gratitude welled up in him, and he tried to figure out how to put words to it.  He wasn’t sure that Gren understood how much he made life more bearable.  He wasn’t sure any of his spouses did, even though he didn’t know where he’d be without them.  He loved all of them, and he needed all of them, and on some level he needed Gren, the only one who wasn’t at least a little wrapped up in politics and particularities, most of all.  He put his other hand over Gren’s.  “You mean a lot to me, Gren.”

“Do you think you could say that more?  Not that, but like, ‘I love you’?”

When was the last time he’d told Gren he loved him?  Even if he didn’t remember exactly, he had a feeling it had been days, or weeks.  He’d decided without thinking about it that Gren didn’t really need to hear it, and he definitely didn’t need to hear it from him, arguably Gren’s least favorite spouse aside from Pali.  

“Of course I can,” he said, rubbing his thumb over the back of Gren’s hand.  “I’m sorry I haven’t said it very much.”

“It’s okay.”  Gren put his other hand on top of Anchesh’s.  Then he dropped his cheek against Anchesh’s shoulder.  

“You know you can always tell me about your feelings,” Anchesh said.

“You don’t tell me about yours,” Gren said.  “Except in bed, kinda.”

“Do you want to know about my feelings?”

“Yes!”  Gren lifted his head and his face was all exasperation.  “I know I don’t understand all of the things you do but I can understand how you feel!”

“Most of my feelings aren’t good.”  And it would be cruel to burden someone like Gren with them.

“I still want to know,” Gren said.  “I just want to be there for you, but I never know what’s going on with you.”

He’d given up on being there for Gren because it was obvious Gren didn’t need him, and he couldn’t keep track of the constantly shifting world he lived in with Yera and Hossan.  “While Yera and Hossan are gone, maybe we should focus on that.  Being there for each other.”

“I’d like that.”  Gren’s eyes fell to their hands, and Anchesh thought he could see a blush rising in his cheeks.  “I’d also like to kiss you more.”

“You can kiss me whenever you want.”  He felt like he meant that the most of anything he’d said so far.  Gren raised his head and went straight to softly touching his lips to Anchesh’s, his mustache tickling at Anchesh’s smooth-shaven upper lip.

On the next kiss his hand caressed the curve of Anchesh’s neck, and then he untangled his other hand from Anchesh’s and threw both arms around his neck, and when that apparently wasn’t enough he broke the kiss and fully straddled Anchesh’s thighs, hunching a little to reach his lips.  Anchesh tilted his head further back in turn, feeling the pleasant tension of his horns pressing against the back of the sofa.  Despite his position, Gren didn’t seem like he was trying to be seductive.  He kissed Anchesh to savor him, like he was fresh water on Gren’s parched tongue, a tongue carefully exploring the contours of Anchesh’s.  He was in no rush, and his skin was warm against Anchesh’s where they touched, Gren’s feet pressed against his knees, hands along the edge of his neckline, soft lips drinking him in.  Anchesh let his hands run back over Gren’s thighs, his hips, to the bare, fuzzy skin at his midriff, and held on there.  

When Gren pulled back at long last, his breath was edged with gasps, and so was Anchesh’s.

“I love you, Anchesh.  I love you so much.”

Without a word, they pulled each other close, Anchesh wrapping his arms around Gren’s back as he leaned forward to press his cheek against Gren’s shoulder.

“I love you too, Gren.”

RKW taglist: @vacantgodling @jezifster @kk7-rbs