#sprookanis

a good kind of nervous

inspired by @zombiefishgirl's Sweater Weather Rating: M | no content warnings

couldn't stop thinking about this beginning bit in particular ⤵

Lucanis frowned in confusion as he rummaged through his dresser. The green sweater he wore under his armour nowhere to be seen. Laundry seemed to have a mind of its own in the Lighthouse. No matter who did the chore and how carefully they sorted things one or two items would change destinations. Almost like magic. This whole place made his eyes itch. If the Warden had stretched it out he would know his blade... He stormed from his makeshift room in the pantry only to be caught short. Rook was sitting in front of the fireplace in the dining hall wearing his sweater. From what he could see that was all she was wearing. It hung a little loose on her and a lock of her hair was caught in the back. Her legs were bare and toned. The flames danced on a scar on her inner thigh and his mind raced with thoughts of whether the scar would be rough or smooth under his tongue. Ridiculous. Not the sort of thought he had. Ever. But lately... Dreams. Vivid. Intense. Lewd. Dreams that left him breathless and aching. Blanket tented and Rooks name on his lips. 'Mara'. He repeated it to himself in those lonely moments. Mara. Waking up, going to sleep, Mara.

Cyras with his boys

I know Spite flirts like a freak

HIM BEING A SPIRIT/DEMON HAS TO COLOR HIS OWN VIEWS OF INTIMACY AND HOW HE EXPRESSES IT

Wisps