#WAS IT AN ABSOLUTE DELIGHT ALL THE WAY THROUGH EVEN INCLUDING THE TEARS??? ALSO YES

[talistheintrovert]

The Heart Killers 14/?

episode 11 part two: the homies are wavering (it's me, i'm the homies)

[the-stove-is-divorced]

So, hi again

Ok first, congratulations on your 100 subscribers!!! That's an amazing feat to achieve!

Second, my question is this, do you plan on making more ben 10 fic in the

Future? Why yes or why no (no judging don't worry)

Another question is, do you know Danny phantom? Do you ever think about joining the fandom and making a fic for it?

Also last thing (sorry so many questions I'm excited)

For you bnha fics, do you have any hidden lore? Or random facts you head canon about a character that may or may not be included into the fic? (Loved inko's beef in nursing school lol) And what is Yagi's pov in this whole thing? I'm imagining it as complete comedy

If you ever decide to write something for your fic but in his pov, it has to be completely crack treated seriously with him missing every flag of his student having a meltdown and a walk toward the dark side lol

Sorry for the long ask, will be waiting for your reply!

Don't worry about a long ask, I adore any asks I get (´꒳`)♡♡♡ !!! I just take a min to answer, haha. Especially rn, but thank you sm! I'm very happy about it, it's so delightful!!! ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡ ♡ ♡

I do want to write more Ben 10, but it's lower on the priority list. Batman brainrot had me a chokehold for a hot min there, and it just loosened, so I wanna get back on track on my bigger ongoing wip's, like my SUF and Invincible fics, and maybe even a Blue Beetle fic. They're both overdue for an update, and I've been itching to post for a while but just Couldn't from responsibilities, bleh.

If I had my way, I'd update those two fics, and then possibly muse about a oneshot of Albedo and Ben having to spend like 10 hours together, 'cause the enemy/friend dynamic is so yummy to me! Forcig them to interact like Albedo is internally hissing like a wet cat backed into the corner and Ben is just trying to vibe! Hostile, loathing force meet nonchalant, friendly energy, fight. Plus, I really want to write one more comedy-like fic since I've gotten incredibly rusty. As for my already existing Ben 10 wip, I'm quite not sure where to take it? I suppose I've run out of steam for the moment? Again, my more comedic style is incredibly rusty, so while I do have 1k of a draft, it's undoubtedly going to be scrapped and reworked to hell before it's even polished. And that's still lower on the priority list, compared to Invincible and SUF, which I'm still struggling to update.

AND I LOVE DANNY PHANTOM! I've just never had a proper fic idea for the series, admittedly. I'd also need a rewatch to keep in tune with Danny's voice/characterizations. I also read a lot of DP x Anything crossovers, and got really sick of them by proxy. It'll take a bit for me to write anything for it, I suppose? I'd need to reignite a interest!

And oh YAY! It's been a very long time since I thought about that fic, and a lot I make up as I go and try tying back together, kinda like building the railroad while I drive the train, haha. So not sure if I had any hidden lore, especially none I can think of at the top of my head? But, like anything, I can think of some!

a) Inko and Hisashi are still technically married as they never got officially divorced, Inko kinda kicked him out and he's still yearning. He admires her ability to be cut throat, and loathes her strong sense of morals. b) Inko and Hisashi met while Inko was in med school, nearly graduating! She threatened to stick a pen through someone's throat for mocking her, and he was enamored. c) Izuku gets his determination from Inko, not Hisashi. He also gets the ability to burst into tears from her. The quick obsession is all him though. d) Hisashi left when Izuku was just young enough for his parenting to still linger, aka quirk fascination, but still early enough Izuku doesn't quite miss him when he's lived so long without him.

Yagi is ABSOLUTELY having a swell ol' time looking at Izuku succeed from the sidelines. Go, Izuku go! Number one cheerleader in the distance. He would be oblivious to Izuku's slowburn sanity depletion, if not incidentally encouraging by misunderstanding, since I think that's silly. Probably offer some advice Izuku takes in a whole another direction, or comment on Izuku's quirk to be encouraging, which makes Izuku incredibly tight lipped and sweating bullets. Which is to say, completely correct assumption from you, haha!

I did have a draft of the next chapter I never ended up finished, if you'd like :D below!

Izuku has been cackling madly for a solid minute. Maybe it’s the exhaustion still clinging to him like a teddy bear cactus after seeing its first fleshy human taxi, or the sweet, sweet euphoria of a miraculous, and marvelous step forwards, or maybe he’s simply lost his sanity, but eventually, it winds down to giggles, chuckles until it’s nothing but a bright grin stretched over his cute little cheeks. 

“Shigaraki!” Izuku whispers delightfully. “Shigaraki, Shigaraki, Shigaraki!” 

Unfortunately, chanting someone's name while cackling, does sound like he’s reciting the next person he’s gonna curse to have their toes swapped with their fingers or having their spine crumble like a wad of wet paper towels squeezed into a tiny ball, so Izuku does exhibit one tiny glimmer of self awareness to simply stop doing that. The magic of sleep, he supposes, brings the wonderful gift of self awareness!

He should sleep more. Probably. Maybe. He’ll see. 

And while yes, okay, there is technically literally no one in the house except for him to see him like this, his All Might figure could be judging him! He can’t disappoint them! They’re limited edition. And oh, he should wipe them down soon. Gotta keep them in good condition! Just imagining one of those delicate, glossy figures being cracked and broken just makes Izuku wanna do the same thing to someone’s spine, which is ridiculous!

Izuku would simply never allow them to get damaged. Ever.

[siswritesyanderes]

Hey just a random anon poppin' in to say love your fic on Deltarune, ngl at first thought I wouldn't like it had been reading a lot of stuff looking for a good yandere kris as I was craving it but all of them left me disconnected how ironic with your fic title it finally scratched that itch and even allowed me to start reading some other stuff now feeling more connected to the idea of kris

However, don't think I've found one yet that tops your idea of them and the way you write them (I've also only looked on Tumblr so far but with how great yours has been at having me on the edge of my seat I don't know if I'll ever find one that tops you)

And goner! Goner is amazing! I usually end up either just accepting or hating a lot of writers who insert characters that feel like mostly oc material but goner doesn't at all and fits really well with the story (Really impressive tbh cuz sometimes on first readings even when a character isn't the op oc insert and actually plays into the story I can end up feeling eh about them just due to deciding they are but goner just immediately on the first few lines captivated me)

It probably helps that most of it is your interpretation on them since Kris also doesn't have much personality known about them so cause of that nothing feels screaming out of place or wrong instead it reminds me of when I read a lot of au stuff- with fics that feel like their trying to capture the magic of the source material I think I get a lot more critical but your writing in this fic has it's own magic and lore

Like why they're both obsessed! The SOUL is pretty much drug-like and addicting to such a point without their guidance Kris is crippled, this not only creates amazing tension with their weakened state but also really makes you think about if it's actually even good for either of them to pine after the very soul that will take them both over. But as the soul we also have a life not of our own to live, to see, and explore every possibility and every outcome. The reader is almost god-like with resets but an easily chained-up one without a host. Which also creates an understanding of why Kris chooses to put the reader in a cage, limit them and create interest and mystery but also because that feeling of power over something so powerful has to also be somewhat addicting and why they view the soul as wholeheartedly (pun intended) *theirs*

And it also shows how much they're willing to go through to get it back that even while weakened and at every possible disadvantage they still want to risk it all.

And honestly with all of this really do feel like the SOUL in this situation, which may be my favorite part as the main element you do keep in deltarune is that feeling of playing a game. Is there that concern for goner? Yes, but do I also want to see how far goner and kris will go tearing each other apart to see who gets the SOUL? Also yes. Recreates that aspect of deltarune very well including the accurate freak out every person playing games has when the character their playing makes a sudden decision [See goner killing a monster cuz they called them Kris] and it perfectly ties it back into the plot and uses it to make further tension as the SOUL just goes along this new path while Kris is freaking out thinking there have already been resets because of it.

Just? Love? So? Much?

Keep doing what you're doing- I hope my feedback has only influenced you in positive ways- (slightly debated on taking out the more negative aspects where I mentioned things I disliked in other fics and things I hyper-fixated on or possibly misremembered outa fear it would make you change yourself too much- I have no idea what I'm talking about or what makes a story a good story only what makes my brain go brrrrrrr and that's all you should read this as, someone just really over-excited rn- ill probably calm down later)

Wow, thank you so much! This was an absolutely delightful ask/comment! I'm so glad you've been enjoying Verge of Connection so far! It's been very fun to write. 😁

[obeymeoasis]

The First Time They Say “I Love You”

Lucifer

At first you just did small things, like cleaning up the used coffee cups on his desk. Things that you wanted to do for him because he was so tired all the time. But after you pointed out a calculation error in a R.A.D organization’s monthly expense sheet, Lucifer started relying on you more. He often asked you to do a final scan over documents before he submitted them to Diavolo just in case he missed anything.

You found that your work styles were very similar: extremely organized, detail-oriented, and meticulous. You enjoyed spending time in Lucifer’s office. And helping him with his work meant that he got done more quickly and had more time to spend with you. 

Right now he was at his desk, furiously scanning through a stack of papers. You could tell he hadn’t slept in a while. The buttons at his throat were undone and he had dark smudges underneath his eyes. Somebody had apparently mixed up the schedule for an upcoming series of lectures and Lucifer was left to solve the problem.

You shut the door behind you slowly and carefully made your way over, trying your best to balance the tea tray and multiple folders you were holding. "Here, Luci. I brought you peppermint tea and shortbread. You should have some while you work, you look absolutely exhausted.” He looked up at you and smiled gratefully, a private smile that only you got to see. “Thank you MC, I appreciate it.”

You then handed him the thick folders. “Also, these are all of the invoices from last week’s alumni dinner party. I thought they were a bit messy to look at so I organized them into different categories based on the business and then sorted the purchases sequentially. Also, I calculated the total expenses and thankfully we were able to stay under budget.”

Lucifer's mouth was slightly ajar and his eyes widened, looking at you as if you'd done something incredibly strange. You asked self-consciously, "Is... is something on my face?"

With the same bewildered expression on his face he said "MC... I love you."

You laughed, a little startled. "Why, because I organized some files for you?"

"Well, yes. No. I mean yes and no. It's not just the files, it's everything. The way you're always thinking of me and taking care of me. The way we work well together. The way I can trust you with anything. I love you, MC. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to say so."

You felt your cheeks flush with happiness. "Well... I love you too, you know. A lot. Now hurry up and finish your work so that we can spend some actual time together."

Lucifer laughed gently and then reached to take your hand in his, pressing a delicate kiss against your fingers. "Anything for you."

Mammon

You were at the casino with Mammon on a Wednesday night. On school nights he usually went alone because you were busy with homework. But tonight he looked so lonely as he headed for the door that something spurred you to put on a jacket and run after him.

When you took his hand in yours, he turned to look at you in surprise and the most radiant smile lit his face. “You’re coming with me, baby?”

The first couple of hours weren’t bad. Mammon brought you small plates of food and you were content to just watch as he flourished in his natural environment. You smiled amusedly at his antics, the way he bantered with the dealer, how he yelled in delight when he won and how pouty he became when he lost.

But pretty soon the long day of classes caught up to you and you could feel your eyelids growing heavy. You were tucked into a small table in the corner, away from the other guests but still visible to Mammon out of the corner of his eye. You figured no one would mind so you laid your arm on the table and rested your head in the crook of your arm. Within a couple of seconds, you were deep asleep.

Meanwhile, Mammon was having some of the best luck he’d had recently at the blackjack table. He turned to where you were sitting to give you a smile and boast about his winnings a little, only to have his heart clench tightly at the sight of you. 

You looked absolutely adorable, sleeping with a little smile on your face. It must have been a little cold for you in the casino because you were curled up tightly against yourself. Mammon flushed at how cute you looked and then felt a sudden rush of emotion. 

Even though you were tired, you still took the time to come out with him tonight. He knew these places weren’t really your thing but you never complained, you genuinely just wanted to be with him. And that was something Mammon wasn’t really used to.

You stirred at the sensation of Mammon draping his jacket across your shoulders. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you looked up to ask: “Hey Mams, how’s your luck been tonight?”

He stood silently for a moment before enveloping you into a sudden, crushing hug. “I-I love you, MC. I really love you.” You were startled and tried to move back to get a look at his face but Mammon wouldn’t budge. “No, don’t look at me. I’m probably super red. But I need to tell you how much I love you. I kinda realized it just now that there’s no one like you. No one who cares for me, who accepts all of me like you do. Thank you for always being here.”

You could feel tears forming in your eyes and buried your face against Mammon’s chest. “Oh, Mams. I love you too. I can’t imagine how alone you must have felt, especially the way your brothers treat you sometimes. But I’m here now, okay? I’ll always be on your side.”

You heard Mammon’s breath hitch a little before he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

Leviathan

You came to discover that there were a lot of little holidays in the Devildom, an occasional day or two when you didn’t have to go to classes. Sometimes you took the opportunity to travel to the human world, often to pick up small necessities or bring back foods you missed.

Today you were here to pick up something specific: strawberry preserves. You had brought back a jar from the human world recently and after having a bite, Levi had practically eaten the whole jar by himself. The preserves were the specialty of a local farm close to your house and Levi absolutely loved them.

Since you were there, you decided to pick up some different jars as well. An employee carefully packaged the jars of strawberry, peach, blueberry, and cherry preserves so that they wouldn't accidentally break on the journey. What he didn't know was that you would actually be travelling between completely different worlds.

As soon as you were back in the Devildom, you quickly made your way to Levi's room with your purchases. He was in the middle of playing a game but when he heard you come in, he turned around to welcome you back. "Hey, MC. How was your trip? What are all those boxes for?"

You opened the topmost one and showed him the little glass jar with the floral pattern on the lid. "I picked more of these up for you today, along with some other flavors I thought it would be nice to try."

Upon recognizing what it was, Levi immediately set down his controller. "MC, this is awesome! I love you!" You froze in shock at his words and it took Levi a couple of seconds before he realized what he had said. He too froze so that the two of you stood there, Levi bright red, neither moving or speaking.

Levi was the one to eventually break the silence. "I-I didn't mean that! Ignore me just now! I don't know what I'm saying." Your heart sank in disappointment. You had merely been shocked that Levi felt the same way about you as you did him. But now he was saying he didn't mean it?

Your disappointment must have been evident on your face because Levi stammered out, "I-I mean, I do mean it! It's just- aargh, this isn't how I wanted to say- Ugh, I don't know what to-" You decided it was best to just be upfront with him. "Listen Levi, I love you a lot. Have for a while now. Can I ask you how you feel about me?"

If he was bright red before, Levi's face looked almost neon red now. He stared at you open mouthed, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You- You love me? Really? You aren't making fun of me or something?" You couldn't help but huff in response. "Levi, am I seriously the type of person who would make fun of you about this?"

It seemed to finally sink in for him then. "No, no you're not. MC, I- I love you too. Ah, I can't believe I said it out loud!" He clapped his hands over his mouth and you giggled at how adorably flustered he looked.

"Hey Levi, now that we know how we feel about each other, is it okay if I give you a kiss?" Levi practically fainted then, and you had to run down to the kitchens to get him a glass of water.

Satan

Satan was used to being alone. None of his brothers or classmates really shared any of his interests and he found that he much preferred being by himself. He was always too engrossed with his books and research that he never considered himself to be lonely.

That is, until he met you. You were somehow able to slowly inch yourself into his heart and without realizing it had become the most important person to him.

The other day, he found a funny quote in one of the novels he was reading and made a note of it to show you later. Then he started thinking about how much his daily routine included you in some way. You had classes together, ate meals together, talked and laughed together, and read late into the night together, enjoying each other’s company.

He realized that he was a lot happier now. Not that he was exactly unhappy before, but it was different with you. He was a lot more relaxed, more prone to smile and laugh. And a lot of it had to do with your influence and the time you spent together.

You were both reading in his room. There was a comfortable, relaxing silence and the atmosphere was especially cozy because of all the lit candles. You had prepared a tray for Satan: a plate of rosemary biscuits and a pot of black tea to wash them down with. This was another thing he appreciated about you; you were always taking care of him.

Both of you were engrossed in your books for a while, until suddenly you could feel Satan staring at you. You marked the page you were on and turned to him, a smile playing on your lips. “Is there something I can help you with?”

He looked at you for a few moments, unsmiling. You frowned, thinking there was something wrong, but before you could say anything Satan said “I just wanted to let you know that I love you dearly.”

You were surprised to say the least. Satan wasn’t really the type to talk about his feelings this explicitly. But after the initial shock, you realized how happy you were that the person you loved felt the same way about you. Satan didn’t let people into his life and into his heart that easily.

It was only when you heard Satan say “Oh love, I didn’t mean to make you cry” that you realized tears were streaming down your cheeks. You put down your book and practically flung yourself into his arms. He hugged you back tightly and waited until you were calm enough to speak. “I love you too Satan, so much. You mean the absolute world to me.”

You laughed wetly, thinking it funny that you were crying during one of the happiest moments of your life. Satan smiled at you fondly before handing you a handkerchief so that you could dry your eyes. 

You spent the rest of the night in his lap, smiling and giggling as he attempted to read you a story out loud.

Asmodeus

These kinds of days rarely happened, but they happened nonetheless. Mean, ugly days when no matter what outfit he tried on, it didn’t look right. No matter how much time he put into styling his hair, it just looked flat and dull. And his makeup seemed to refuse to cooperate with what he had in mind.

On these kinds of days Asmo locked himself in his room under the pretense of “needing self-care”. He hated having to speak with others because their usual compliments just sounded mocking and fake to his ears.

Asmo remembered an incident when one of his admirers had complimented his hairstyle and he had snapped at her furiously: “Shut up! Don’t make fun of me!” before storming away. He was incredibly embarrassed about it and apologized profusely to her. Since then, he figured it was safer to just hide out in his room.

But it was hard to be alone in his room when you were already there. You knew something was up with Asmo when you texted him saying "Hey, could you help me pick out a new coat?" and he replied with "Maybe another time, sorry darling!" He would have never refused an opportunity to go shopping with you.

So you raced to his room after classes and thankfully managed to slip in while Asmo was in the kitchen gathering some snacks. When he saw you standing in his room you could see he struggled to act nonchalant. "Darling! I didn't know you'd be here. I'm sorry, but I'm feeling a bit under the weather today. I wouldn't want you to catch anything so it'd probably be best if you went to your room."

Your heart clenched at the blatant lie. "Oh Asmo, I'll leave if you really want to be alone. But just know that I'm here for you. Whatever it is, there's nothing I wouldn't do for you. I want to be your strength."

You could see the conflict in Asmo's eyes as he stood quietly for a couple of minutes. You were about to turn around and leave, giving him some alone time, but he suddenly blurted out "I feel ugly today. I feel disgusting and horrible and hideous."

Asmo closed his eyes, embarrassed at his outburst and also dreading what inevitably came next: empty compliments and false flattery. He didn't want to be told he was beautiful when he didn't believe it.

But instead, you surprised him by enveloping him in a strong embrace. You alternated between gently patting his back and smoothing his hair and were rewarded with feeling the tension leave his body. You didn’t say anything, just continued to hold Asmo and wipe away the few stray tears on his cheeks.

Eventually you moved him to his bed, Asmo’s head lying on your chest and his arms wrapped around your waist. You weren’t sure how much time had passed but he seemed to be much calmer. He tilted his head up to look at you, his eyes searching your face, before almost whispering “I love you”. Your eyes widened in surprise. “You seem to always know what to do, MC, how to put me back together again. You’re honest with me and you actually listen to what I’m saying. I love you. Please stay with me forever.”

The two of you fell asleep like that, Asmo’s head on your chest and your hands intertwined. 

Beelzebub

Beel was a bit nervous, considering this was one of the most important Fangol games he had ever played in. Not only was it against their rival school, but also Beel’s coach had let him know that there would be scouters from the professional league coming to watch for potential talent.

It was too bad that you wouldn’t be able to watch him play. He considered you a very important part of his game-day routine. In the morning, you always made him a hearty breakfast and at the pre-game warmup, he frequently went to you for kisses and headpats. He considered you to be his good luck charm.

Unfortunately, you weren’t feeling well. You kept having bad stomach pain and the doctor had said it was probably your body reacting to some unfamiliar Devildom food. You were currently lying down in your room with a heating pad on and some warm green tea.

Beel missed you terribly. It had only been a few hours since he had last seen you but he couldn’t help but feel lonely. You were always there shouting and cheering for him on game days which made your absence feel that much larger.

His teammates and coaches could tell that something was off with him. They kept coming by to ruffle his hair or pat him on the shoulder and ask, “Is everything okay?” and “Don’t worry, you’ll do great!” 

Beel knew he was being silly. He would go see you right after the game! And yet his heart wasn’t in it during the pre-game stretches. He kept spacing out and staring at the wall instead of actually getting ready.

Suddenly, one of the assistant coaches came into the room. “Beel! MC is here! Now hurry up and stop moping around!” He saw you behind the coach looking a bit uncomfortable, your stomach must have still been bothering you. But you were also smiling at your little surprise.

Beel ran up to you and hugged you gently. “MC! What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in bed? Are you okay? Are you feeling better?” You laughed at his barrage of questions before reaching up on your tip-toes to give him a pat on his head. “I’m still in a bit of pain but I wanted to be here. I couldn’t miss such an important game! Now what’s this about you moping around?”

Beel blushed and ducked his head before mumbling, “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” You laughed again and Beel’s heart soared at the sound. He was suddenly struck with the realization of how much he loved you. You, who always had his back, who was always there to support him and motivate him. 

He wrapped his arms around you and whispered in your ear, “Thanks for being here, MC. I love you so much, you know. Sometimes it feels like my heart is going to burst.” Your arms tightened around him in response. “I feel the same way Beel, I love you so much. Now go and win this game, okay? Show them how amazing you are.”

After the game, Beel was surrounded by his coaches excitedly telling him about how many scouters were interested in seeing him play again. But all Beel could think about was having you in his arms again.

Belphegor

It occurred to Belphie one day after class as he was walking down the hallway. There was a couple leaning against the locker, engaged in a full display of public affection. They kept giggling and yelling “I love you!” at each other. Belphie fake gagged a little before moving past them.

But then it occurred to him. Is that kind of thing something... you wanted? Your relationship was relatively new both in terms of time and in that this was something Belphie wasn’t really experienced with. You were one of the people that knew him best though, apart from his brothers, and Belphie had just assumed that it would be okay to continue acting as he had always had around you.

What if secretly this was something you wanted as well? All of the endearments and displays of affection. Belphie hadn’t even- hadn’t even said the “L” word to you yet. This continued to trouble him even as he lied down for his afternoon nap. In his dreams he kept seeing visions of you crying while looking on enviously at other couples and asking, “Why can’t we be like that?”

By the time he sat down at dinner, Belphie was exhausted. And you of course noticed, especially since he was eating a lot less than he normally did. After dinner the two of you made your way to his room, where you were getting out some textbooks to study and he lied back down on his bed. “Hey Belphie, is everything okay? You seem a lot more listless than usual.

Belphie stared at you, contemplating whether to tell you what was going on. But in the end he decided against it. “It’s nothing, MC. Don’t worry about it.” His voice definitely didn’t sound like it was nothing. “Okay, Belphie. But let me know if you want to talk about anything, okay? I’m always here.”

For the next hour or so, you studied for your classes while Belphie tormented himself. He did love you. But he wasn’t good at expressing his feelings, especially in the way the couple in the hall had. What if that now you were dating, you expected him to change? Would he even be able to? Frustrated at the swirling questions in his mind, Belphie ended up blurting out “I love you!” to your back.

You turned around in your chair slowly, surprised at his sudden intensity. “I... love you too. Belphie, is everything okay? You’ve been acting strange all day.” He sighed. “MC, you know what kind of demon I am. I’m not good at all the... lovey-dovey stuff that other couples do. But if that’s what you want, I can at least try to be different.”

You shook your head. “I... honestly have no idea what you’re talking about. I know how you feel about me, Belphie. I don’t need you to be like “the other couples” because I fell in love with you and who you are. I don’t expect you to be someone you’re not. Where are you even getting the idea that I want something other than what we have?”

Ah, Belphie really did love you. There was no one else in the world that knew him so completely and still loved and accepted all parts of him. And... he just realized that he had said “I love you” for the first time by practically shouting it while your back was turned.

He got up and stood next to his desk. You were sitting and looking up at him, concern evident on your face. He smiled and leaned down to kiss you gently before mouthing against your lips, “I love you, MC.”

You could feel how hot your cheeks were as he moved away and went to lie back down on his bed. You pretended to be unbothered, flipping randomly through your textbook, but none of the words made any sense. You mumbled under your breath, “”You’re pretty good at lovey-dovey stuff.”

[obeymeluv]

“I Got All A’s! Can I Have Some Dick?” (Bros + Undateables)

Just something stupid and funny I thought about. You had a very tough semester in the Devildom and you got good grades! You want to celebrate and go to your favorite demon to ask for a special reward.

Obvious NSFW warning. No minors allowed!

No Luke. Luke is baby.

I have a personal headcanon that Simeon likes to be totally cozy when he writes. We’re talking big fluffy sweaters or a blanket cozy. I like to think he wears glasses when he writes, too.

Lucifer

He’s part of a special committee who’s notified about your grades/progress so he actually knows before you do

Proud boyfriend is proud

Purrs when he opens up the wax-pressed envelope and reviews your marks

Secretly plans a cute, fancy dinner date at Ristorante Six

Is thinking of being suave and breaking the news to you when you bounce into his study (he may or may not have poured a couple of glasses of your favorite age-appropriate beverage)

He’s got something witty prepped and is ready to toast you and maybe steal a few kisses but you come out of left field like a bullet with a simple “I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”

Lucifer.exe is broken

That’s what you want as a reward? No dinner, no date?

Literally doesn’t know what to say for a few seconds. Totally freezes. Starts to stutter.

His brain kicks back in when you start playing with the folds of his collar and petting his chest and staring at him with those wanting eyes

Sets his glass down, fixes the cuff of his gloves, and hoists you up to plant you on the nearest surface. “I will make it worth every point, and you will say all the letters.” he purrs.

Mammon

He’s just happy he passed.

Mammon actually does pretty well, he’s just a very...chaotically successful type. A lot of last minute turn-ins and such. Not top marks, but no dunce either.

Now that the semester’s over he’s checking his schedule to see when the next shoot is or if he has time to squeeze in a party. Maybe a trip somewhere. Something fun!

He’s feeling lucky! Lucky enough to win some money and make Goldie happy!

If he’s going anywhere, he needs a good luck charm though! He goes to hunt you down and his stomach just warms because you’re smiling and clearly in a good mood

It makes him purr in that cute, curious little way. Basically using the demon’s language to ask you why you’re in such a good mood (but you don’t know that. It’s basically a cute chirp).

You both shout your good news at the same time.

His invite to go tear it up was a bit long so it takes a minute for his brain to process what you said. You want...his dick?

Boy wants to blush SO BAD. HE’S SO RED!

Well now his thing seems stupid, doesn’t it? He wants to do your thing! Your thing sounds GREAT!

“OF COURSE you want to be with the GREAT Mammon!” he’s got his hands on his hips and his chest is puffed out big in that happy, silly way he has about him.

No, really, you do your thing. It’s a great thing.

It’s a good way to unwind from exams, right? He likes it!

Levi

If Levi didn’t get good grades, Lucifer would kill him.

Probably force him to go to school physically ALL THE TIME!

HIS SUBSCRIPTIONS WOULD BE AT RISK,OKAY?

He’s a solid B student (at least). No desire to be all A’s. Too much time away from other passions.

Because he’s well-behaved and leas likely to get on Lucifer’s nerves, he gets a little bit of bonus money for good grades.

Levi’s neck-deep in his charts and comparisons and muttering to himself about where to invest that money when you pop into his room

“I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?!”

You get The Noise

How indecent! How naughty of you to ask! But yes, yes you can. Absolutely. 100%!

He’s really shy about it because it’s sudden and you asked him instead of him having a cool moment or anything, but it ends up being a giggle-filled romp that ends with a cuddle in his bathtub bed and you wrapped up in his tail

He totally suggests a round two with a sexy VR game or just making bets with ‘winner take all’

Satan

He’s a grade juggernaut with lots of self-discipline so Satan expects to get out what he gets in

The type to be smug because he knows he did well. He owes it to himself and he’s glad.

Likes to treat himself to an outing, be it a simple walk or a visit to a cafe or even a new book

Satan’s 100% ready to settle down with some books by the fireplace. At the end of the semester he typically makes a one or two-portion charcuterie board and picks at it while he reads

Thumb keeping his place, Satan’s in the middle of stacking a fancy little cracker with meat and cheese when you let yourself in

His eyes flick to you and he smiles, eating his little cracker

You pick at his tray with him (he’ll let you, of course). “I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”

Chokes on cracker. It’s not a good time

Almost drowns himself/further chokes trying to wash it down with drink

Can’t help but laugh at your...bold request

When he sees he’s kind of sputtered all over himself, he slips out of his clothes and makes a few witty jokes as your ‘naked butler’

Naked butler happily provides his services

Later he makes you picked crushed cracker off the floor with him

Asmo

The second Asmo knew he passed everything (like he always does. Just because he’s pretty doesn’t mean he’s stupid!), he booked himself a full day pampering experience

His inner circle of beauty specialist know his routine so they save his spots for him

Asmo sweet-talked them into including his favorite human and he’s DYING to tell you and DYING to make his brothers jealous

You skip into his room, so bright and lovely, and hold his hands in the cute excited way he likes. Makes his heart skip a beat every time like it’s young love.

“I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”

Doesn’t expect it and has probably never been asked ‘Can I have some dick?’ in the thousands of years he’s been alive

Boy gives an airy laugh because he’s surprised and flattered. Of COURSE you want him (because who wouldn’t?) but he always gets a bit shy when it’s YOU asking

“Sounds amazing,” he’s already peppering you with kisses, “and I’m happy to provide but can we do it after our special spa day?”

You guys have a sweet, lazy round the day of the booking to ‘loosen up’ and ‘fully appreciate the services’ and he DEFINITELY worships you when all is said and done because ‘the epitome of beauty deserve the epitome of devotion’

Beel

Boy works hard and celebrates even harder. Usually with food

Because he’s always hungry and looking forward to eating, Beel likes to do his work ahead of time. The sooner he does it, the more time he has to eat!

He has to keep up good grades to stay on the sports teams, anyways

Solid B student, sometimes A’s. C’s and below aren’t a thing. He refuses.

Because he is also best boy and generally acts as Lucifer’s pseudo-enforcer, he also gets some bonus money.

The coach of his local sports team also pitches in because Beel is best boy and a TANK. He could literally carry the whole team

Beel’s all set to hit the town with his food money when find him and wrap your arms around him

He’s all excited and ready to tell you about the food money when you make his face catch fire. “I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”

Brain also stops. BEEL IS SO EMBARRASSED!

You’d rather have him than food? That’s pretty impressive! He’s honored!

But...what if you could have both? He’s totally down for both!

You celebrate your success by staying in (bed) and spoiling yourselves with food in-between rounds

Belphie

Belphie is a ‘C’s get degrees’ kind of guy but C’s are his minimum. Tries for B’s and usually gets mid-to-low B’s.

With exams over he’s 100% down to sleep the day away and there’s NO REASON for ANYONE TO BUG HIM ABOUT IT!

Totally prepared to live in his finest pyjamas until school starts again. Might even treat himself to a new pillow or blanket!

If he hadn’t learned your scent by now, you wouldn’t have a face when you breach his blanket cocoon

Belphie just snorts and smiles at your little face and messy hair (the blankets give it static and mess it up)

You kiss his nose and wait to make sure he’s really awake before sharing the good news. “I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”

Laughs himself to the point of almost choking on one of his blankets

Throws himself out of the cocoon to breathe and wipe his tears away

But yes, yes you can. After he calms down, he pulls you onto his lap to straddle him. 

It’s fun and lazy but a genuine celebration of the end of the semester

Diavolo

He’s the other part of the committee that saw your grades, so he knows

It’s a bit off his plate so he won’t have as many duties to attend to

Diavolo wasn’t sure when you’d come over, but Barbatos assured him you’d be over that day. He did his best to speed through his meetings and arrange his schedule to have a rest period

He asked Barbatos to prepare a small, modest lunch of finger foods and some complimentary tea

You may have thought Diavolo was making himself a plate when you walked in, but it was actually a plate for you

The prince of the Devildom almost dropped that plate when you said, “I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”

Prince of Hell is super blushy and flustered and awkward and almost knocks his teacup off the table. Is suddenly scrambling to make sure he doesn’t know anything else off the table

Tries to compose himself but can’t help the boyish smile and laugh that escapes him

You’re just such a lovely, fascinating person! He’s so happy to have you. His life seems eternal but you make it so fresh and new! His heart just bursts with love and delight.

Is no longer worried about the food or pushing in your chair for you. Offers his lap instead. “I have an opening for that,” he assures, pulling you onto his lap.

Diavolo likes to think he’s thoughtful about taking you on the floor because Barbatos doesn’t have much to clean up.

If your stomach grumbles after you’re settled and sleepy, he pulls himself off your body long enough to grab a plate from the table and put it beside your head. 

Demons have more stamina and it would be un-princely of him not to spoil you, so he feeds you until you’re too sleepy to eat.

Barbatos

It’s exhausting to be able to see multiple timelines and see into the future.

He never knows how far into the future he’s seeing, or if it’s in the timeline he’s currently in

All he knows is he heard you ask him for dick and almost dumped the wrong thing in the soup, okay? 

Had to excuse himself and ask someone on the cooking team to take over for him while he “dealt with another matter” (laughed it out where no one could hear him)

I’m not sure if Barbatos is considered a student at RAD, but Diavolo must be too. We’ll say he is. Boy is a master of self-discipline and scheduling so he’s fine. Flawless, as a butler should be. It carries over into all things.

It’s a delicate balance sometimes, but he’s type A and used to being busy so it works itself out. He does well.

Barbatos simply looks forward to having less to do. Focusing on Diavolo can be a job all its own.

He was planning on making a few sweets for Luke and the others. Diavolo suggested a “pot luck” to celebrate. It’s something the humans came up with and he seems to like it. It turns into sweets for the pot luck

Probably makes you a special mini-dessert or a special portion of the dessert

If he’s in control of plate presentation, you might get a special sauce heart of chocolate heart

When Diavolo is generous enough to include him in the celebration (because he deserves it and you’re there, so it’d be cruel not to), Barbatos makes small talk and woos you subtly

You ask him to “show you where to take the dishes” to get him alone. He can feel it in his little demon bones. You’re about to do it.

You do it.

You’re basically vibrating with excitement because you probably planned this and think you’re very clever. Human enthusiasm is so darling and it makes his heart pitter-patter to think you were simply bursting to ask HIM this.

“But of course,” he helps you stack the plates and guides your hand to the silverware sorter because you’re looking at him instead of what you’re doing. You almost put a fork in the spoon section. “Covered in chocolate? Plain?”

He’s trying to one-up you. He loves seeing his human change colors and not know what to do.

You whisper “I prefer wet,” back in his ear and Barbatos wonders how he didn’t see THAT in any of his visions

You: 1, Barbatos: 0. Helpless. Defenseless. Horny.

“That will be ready shortly,” he’s already pulling you away, down the hall, to meet your request.

Solomon

It wouldn’t serve him to do poorly in the Devildom. Basically wasted opportunity

He’s not a straight A student but he does well. Really pulls out the stops on major projects and things that are worth more points than others

Isn’t perfect at everything but makes up for it. Solid B’s, always really close to A’s. At least a couple low A’s.

Solomon doesn’t quite know how he wants to celebrate. He knows Asmo’s already pestering him to go shopping or clubbing

He’s considering it. He’d like to drink, honestly

You show up, light of his life, his favorite person, and he feels himself warm with joy

He revels in being the only other human in the Devildom. It makes your relationship that much more special, he thinks. It’s kind of stupid, but it’s something to coyly hold over the others whenever he sees fit. All in play, of course (not).

“I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”

Pretends to think and looks anywhere but your face. If he looks at your face he’ll blush himself stupid and won’t be able to say anything smart.

He can’t lie. He’s already hard. He appreciates humor and wit and you’re all of it.

Very bold of you to come onto him like that, and he’s 100% for it.

“Can you take it?” Solomon wishes he said something smoother, that he wasn’t already slipping between your legs and grinding against you like the weak man he was. He doesn’t regret it though because the friction is good. Something you both need.

He whispers against your skin and gives you light, sloppy kisses with a hint of teeth.

He gives, and he’s generous. He wants to reward your efforts.

Simeon

Simeon makes it a point of personal pride to do well in the Devildom

That’s the utmost symbol of peace and understanding, isn’t it? To embrace their culture and livelihood and do well? To do well means he’s understanding them and walking in their shoes. It’s only right

He works hard and does well. Doesn’t stress himself out with A’s since he’s keeping up his grades because it’s required. He’d rather reconnect with the brothers and try to help Luke enjoy the Devildom.

He’s happy to spend his free time taking Luke to places in the Devildom, trying to visit the House of Lamentation, and maybe working on some things for TSL since editors are clamoring for more

You stop by because he’s been fairly quiet, wrapped up in his favorite writing sweater with his little editing glasses on

Simeon smiles and greets you with his little ‘Hi, angel’ as he kisses your hand. 

Boy almost breaks his favorite pen when you ask him for...for dick?

He’s not absolutely clueless but this boy has been in ‘holy angel’ mode for centuries. He struggles with texting and stickers and you expect him to know slang?!

So confused he takes his glasses off. Boy can’t comprehend

“You’re asking me to procure one? Like...the ones humans use from those stores? You want mine? Well, I certainly hope so because we’re--oh...”

He could write books of poetry about you, and though he doesn’t like to admit it, he’s had those thoughts

“Well,” he’s standing up from his chair and guides you so gently to his bed it’s like you’re floating on a cloud. He lays you down just as gently, fabrics whispering as he slips out of his sweater and it pools at his feet. “I wouldn’t be a very good angel if I ignored the wishes of my dear human, would I?”

Doesn’t really see the point of sex as a reward, but will never turn down a moment to show how cherished you are. 

Hope you liked it :)

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Ineffable Con 2020 Fun Facts

Fun facts from the Ineffable Con 2 (2020) guest panels :): 

Neil Gaiman, Douglas Mackinnon and Rob Wilkins

David G. Arnold (the music composer)

Claire Anderson (the costume designer)

Peter Anderson (Peter Anderson Studio created the opening title animation and in-show graphics)

Paul Adeyefa (Disposable Demon)

Jeremy Marshall-Roberts (the owner of Mary the Bentley)

1. Neil Gaiman, Douglas Mackinnon and Rob Wilkins

What do they have from Good Omens:

Rob has the statue from St. Beryls, all four motorbikes from the four horsemen, Crowley’s Devon watch, box signed by David Tennant with Crowley’s sunglasses and Aziraphale’s cocoa mug with Michael Sheen’s DNA :).

Douglas has the playing cards from Episode 1 and heavily annotated Good Omens book they used for filming with inscription by Neil: ‘For Douglas, make us love, make us cry, 3rd August 2017’.

Neil has Aziraphale’s chair from the bookshop that he bought from the BBC and he uses it for Zoom meetings.

What is their favourite thing that was not in the book and was added to the TV show:

Neil: all of the first half of Episode 3 - an absolute joy.

Rob: also the beginning of Episode 3.

Douglas: David Arnold’s music and Peter Anderson’s front titles.

Could Aziraphale get out of the Bastille easily if he wanted to?

Neil: if he could: absolutely. Did he have any conception of the mess he was in: probably not. It’s one of Neil’s favourite pieces of acting - the absolute delight on Aziraphale’s face when he realizes that Crowley’s there and then he turns around and rather petulantly, grumpily goes oh it’s you - that moment of joy on Aziraphale’s face when he realizes that he’s been rescued is one of Neil’s favourite things. 

Neil and yoghurt starter: I had this slightly mad thing where I would explain to everybody that fans were yoghurt starter. And I said, ‘Basically you start out with yoghurt starter and you put it into your warm milk and you leave it, and the yoghurt starter goes off and turns the entire thing into yoghurt. 

Neil realized that there was a cat in his house (Neil doesn’t have a cat :)). After the panel Neil said that he was going to look for the cat with a can of sardines and Douglas joked that he would find Michael Sheen in a cat costume.

What was the best and worst about making the series:

Douglas: the best - the camaraderie, getting to know the people, the cast and crew. 

Rob: the best - realizing that the book could be translated to the screen and watching it happen. The worst - coming to the end of the shoot and saying goodbye to everybody.

Neil: the best - the amount of love from everybody, the worst - fighting budget battles (producers wanted gone all of the cold opening and the death of Agnes Nutter).

Did they expect that Good Omens would attract so many LBGTQ+ people and how they feel about that:

Neil: Yes, absolutely. There are definitely people out there who seem to think that I accidentally wrote a love story with all of the beats of a love story including a break-up halfway through, without somehow noticing that I’d written a love story. And I may not be the brightest candle on the candelabra, but as an author who’s been doing it for a long time, I’m very well aware of when I’m writing a love story, thank you very much. And so from my perspective I knew that the love story would be one of the driving things that would get us from the beginning to the end. And I also made a bunch of decisions about our angels and our demons in terms of casting, in terms of gender that everybody backed me up on, which I loved. You know, the idea that the archangel Michael is played by Doon [Mackichan] is something that is... or Beelzebub is Anna Maxwell Martin, whatever, there’s... it’s not like we are going: these are women, there are men, we are going: these are demons, these are angels. They... this is not a thing. And also doing something like Pollution, where you go in and go: okay  well if we were doing this in... if 1989 was now, if there were they pronouns, we probably would have done that. We didn’t think of it at the time but that’s no reason why we can’t do it now. And we did and I remember having a... not exactly a battle, but a... my very tiny skirmish with one of our execs who was very nice and very bright and was like: ‘Why are you saying they?’, and I’m like... and I... explaining, and he’s like: ‘Well I’ve never heard of that before.’, and I’m like: ‘Oh, okay, but trust me, just trust me, it’s all fine, just trust me.’

Douglas: And you know I have to say, just following on what Neil’s saying, I’ve been directing for quite a while, and I tend to notice if characters are falling in love, I tend to notice a love story happening in front of me, and I think it’s there, and everything is meant, guys, everything is meant.

Neil added: I would just say, there are some things that you do while you’re writing a script intentionally. The fact that... I wanted to do this, well, it was a thing I did that I really enjoyed doing... where whenever people accuse them of being a couple: they don’t deny it, they don’t argue, there’s no flustering on their part. They absolutely… you know, everybody… what I’m trying to say is:  yes, other people in the story are perceiving them as a couple too. And here is Uriel perceiving them as a couple, here is wonderful Dan [Starkey, playing the passerby] …and you know, you do scenes like that because that’s... you are trying to make a point here and you’re trying to make a point on how people are perceived.

Season 2, yes or no [fiends, all three of them!]:

Douglas: What’s that?

Neil: Of what?

Rob: Is it muted for me as is for everyone else?

Neil confirmed that they are going to be Funko Pops. [yay!]

2. David G. Arnold (the music composer)

He didn’t read the book before he was approached to do the music. He was asked to do it by Douglas Mackinnon he knew from the Victorian episode of Sherlock and he said yes before even knowing what it was about because he wanted to work with Douglas again.  

The first piece of music he wrote for the show was the brass band doing the Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon [Episode 6, in the park before the kidnapping].

The second piece of music he wrote was the lullaby that Crowley sings to Warlock. He always liked the lullabies like in Mary Poppins so he said to Neil: Why don’t we do it like Walt Disney, but if Walt Disney was possessed by Satan? That was about 7 months before he needed to write anything again while they were shooting and it kept going round his head the whole time - the melody stuck with him and when it came to the Opening Title of the show, this became the middle bit.

The original opening title was Everyday by Buddy Holly and each episode was supposed to be closed with a different version of it: a death metal version, an angelic choir version, a carmina burana version... and he actually made all those. But he likes to find the musical identity of the show and put it in the opening titles because it’s important and it tells you: ‘This is the word you’re going to experience’, so he wrote his own opening title with the lullaby in the middle and played it to them [probably Neil and Douglas] with Buddy Holly as the backup and: Neil just turned around in his chair and said, ‘That’s Good Omens.’. From that point the instructions were with no rules, just to create whatever he wanted: the further you can go the better, the weirder and the stranger you can think the better. It’s a rare thing to be shown a world like Good Omens and be let free to run around in it. 

His favourite ending title is the Queen one in Episode 1.

One of the reasons he didn’t do a theme for Crowley and a theme for Aziraphale is that the theme of the show is theirs - it’s theirs and they share it and it’s both of theirs and there is no separating in that regard. 

About Aziraphale and Crowley’s relationship reflected in the music score: It’s interesting isn’t it, because the relationship changed in a way slightly frequently and majorly infrequently. It seemed right from the start that their relationship was somehow seeded and planted and had begun by the time we saw them even though they may not have realised it themselves, you know, with the pair of them on the wall, considering one is a demon in the Garden of Eden and one is an angel. They act very charitably towards each other and they act with a lot of things you might not expect. And underneath that there is a sort of sense of togetherness and support even though they both know that their paths are going to diverge and they have different responsibilities. So I always felt like, right from that moment, when the wing came up on the wall, that there was something special about their relationship. Three moments that stuck with him: in Episode 3 saving the books in the church when they completely rely on the other for survival in the way that they were very open about, one in the car outside the nightclub in 60s Soho - the Holy Water, you go too fast for me, that genuinely tearing, that there was reluctance in those words that he spoke and that sort of things as a composer is gold, it’s about making those moments more, and in the last episode in a scene they’re not event in when we see Adam and Dog in the fields and Anathema that music there which celebrates Crowley and Aziraphale’s music which is the theme of the show - their shadow has passed over everyone’s emotional journey, and everyone’s emotional journey is theirs as well. The argument in the bandstand was important as well.

His favourite leitmotif from the series is the lullaby.

About the scene in the car in episode 2 when Thomas Tallis changes into Queen: Terry’s favourite piece of classical music was the Thomas Tallis piece [Spem in Alium] so Neil asked if they can go from Thomas Tallis - a choral piece from 16th century - to We Will Rock You, and: ‘You never say no. You don’t say that you can’t do it. What you have to do is to be the first person who solves the problem.’ In the end it was a two-days work just for this little bit and he mentioned that he never had these sorts of challenges anywhere else before.

His favourite non-musical detail in the show - the crucifixion, how the scene was shot, how it was upsetting, and how it was made more effective by Aziraphale and Crowley’s inability to stop it, that they had to observe and watch it, that it had to happen. I remember seeing that at the time and thinking, I wasn’t expecting that level of brutal honesty, in terms of the pictures that I was looking at and what they chose to show. And I think all the more effective for it. 

3. Claire Anderson (the costume designer)

When creating the costumes for the characters she started with mood boards. 

Aziraphale - she knew that he needed to have something winglike in his collar so that’s why there are sweeping lapels very often. Using velvet [for the waistcoat] because that was nice and soft and had all the appropriate qualities. His watch and fob that has little gold wings hanging from it and other tiny bits of symbolism. Tartan bow tie. Beautiful cashmere checkered trousers - not quite tartan but a nod to it. A mid to late Victorian coat, Michael only made his decision on the coat a couple of days before the filming. Aziraphale in the present settled on a ring with angelic symbol and harp cufflinks, earlier his ring in ancient times has got a much more roughly hewn set of wings on it, so before jewellery making became sophisticated he modernised slightly - he magicked it up to be a bit more modern, more gentleman signet type of ring, but he never modernises entirely. His heart is much more in the past.

After they began to define Aziraphale they started to look at how the Heaven army of angels might look - the element of tartan came sort of from Aziraphale and the angels have a not-tartan kilt with a semi military type jacket and a military band across that might hold arms or not, because they are not really violent. She used spats to make them look quite neutral and genderless so hiding fastenings and concealing little details like that seemed a way to do that.

Gabriel doesn’t wear spats because he’s on Earth such a lot. His shoe has a cover with two buckles on the side giving the same neutral element. He wears a cashmere light-as-air suit.

The other angels are all in bastardized versions of what era they may have died in, so they could have died in the 1930s or the 1800s and the costume would have an element of that era about it - though of course as an angel you can change things.

The Quartermaster Angel - the costume is a combination of slightly Indian type military, maharaja pants, longer spats from another era, all combined pieces of military tailored to be magical and slightly nonsensical, as Heaven might be.

Crowley - she felt that he wrapped around like a snake sheds its skin so she wanted something double breasted because that seemed to envelope his snakey charm. David wanted to be more casual than wearing a suit. Under his collar he always has a flash of red like the snake that he comes from - the red belly. They put a red seam into the sole of his boots so always there is a hint of where he came from. The red tie in the blitz. He was more rock and roll than Aziraphale and modernised more to a snakehipped rock and roll star really. His present jacket - the fabric there is quilted, they found an 80s jacket that had elements of things they enjoyed - part of that was that it had a slightly quilted quality to the fabric which was like a textured snakeskin. It took quite a long time to create the fabric and then to make the jacket from that - they quilted some fabric and washed and whooshed it repeatedly to create a bit of puckering in it. He has a snakey scarf around his neck like a chain mail linked scales of skin scarf that he wore that complemented his neck chain. The trousers he wore in Victorian times are the same he wore in the 60s when he meets young Shadwell. His present trousers - slightly waxy denim - we just were looking for a slithery finish. Crowley’s neck chain - there is only one in the world - her tailor has a Gothic church full of interesting stuff like busts and drapes with old things, this chain mail scarf was there and David was looking for something to complete his costume and liked it. 

Hastur and Ligur are her favourite characters - they were so enjoyable to create. She had an amazing book of 1920s and 30s criminals and they used that as a starting point, because they were all quite worn out and bedraggled and poverty stricken and like hell might be ideally. They burnt and decayed the bottom of them as if they were rotting from the Earth and rotting back into the ground - all demons have sort of gators as if they were rotting from the ground up.

One of the most difficult things was the demons - when they realized they had a few days to create hundreds of demons in South Africa (4-5 days for almost 200 demons). It was as if I had been dissolved in holy water when they asked me for another 150 costumes.

The sleeves of Anathema’s coat have been inspired by a Victorian cycling coat. 

The historical costume that Newt’s ancestor wore influenced his and Shadwell’s costumes - they used elements of the historical costume to put a little cape on Newt and Shadwell and their wax coats to give them the quality of that look. Newt's costume has a lot of mustard to make him feel a bit awkward and uncomfortable - it's not the most flattering colour on a northern European complexion.

The nuns’ headdress needed to look a little bit demonic - she bought a whole book on nuns’ headdresses for research. They also used the V in the nurse's apron because that was nicely demonic. The nurses' watch has got this Satanic symbol at the top - a little take on the medical since old nurses’ uniforms used to have watches.

For Madame Tracy she went back into the 70s, slightly Biba-esque makeup and a cape. They had only one pair of her goggles so it was always a nightmare to find them.

Which part of the cold opening is her favourite: I love ancient Rome because there is at least 6 to 12 metre of fabric in a toga and that was quite fun wrapping that around the boys and creating those., and her favourite was the Globe.

The lapels represent wings in every way and every shape and every form. Wings are very important.

4. Peter Anderson (Peter Anderson Studio created the opening title animation and in-show graphics)

The first thing that the director Douglas Mackinnon (with whom he worked on Doctor Who and Sherlock) said to him was: for all the graphics, for all the title sequence, for everything, I want you to promise me one thing, and that is very, very simple, promise that you send me emails that say: ‘this might be absolutely nuts, but my idea is...’.

The opening title it’s full of easter eggs - it’s a type of sequence that’s been designed to watch a thousand times, for example: on the escalator down to Hell there is one character running up deciding that he doesn’t want to go to Hell or the sea is full of plastic bags because we don’t look after the planet.

Every single face in the title sequence is either Crowley’s or Azriphale’s, they are repeated all the way through - inspired by Neil saying that there’s good and evil in all of us, so there is a grand procession of people of all the characters from the story - marching towards Armageddon - but all the characters have been taken over by good or evil. And along the way our two heroes are kind of playing tricks on each other, doing good, doing evil

The opening title combines multiple elements - two dimensional animation elements, three dimensional animation elements, CGI and live action (the people in the procession were created by live action on a travelator). So the result is a kind of strangeness - such as 3D figures with 2D animated tracked heads - which makes it unique.

Their first idea and version of the opening title was based on tapestries of old, subverting them, but then they wanted something more new and fresh.

Both Douglas and Neil were an important part of the opening title creation process.

The opening title sequence took about a year to make from the creative start with four intensive months towards the end.

One of things that inspired him was a Bauhaus theatre image from 1930s.

Question if the hand-drawn font for the graphics will be a purchasable font: no, because it was original and it’s unique and it was created just for this - it was for the love of the show and the story and it will be kept there.

In the scene where there are three photos of witchfinders - Neil and Douglas revealed in the DVD commentaries that two of them are their grandfathers - the third one is Peter’s great uncle.

Originally the signs telling us things like ‘Thursday’ or ‘Mesopotamia’ - were done as if somebody (who was living inside the television screen) ran up close to the screen and showed us the sign. In the end they simplified it, only showing the signs. The one time that it was sort of left in the show was when in Episode 5 a little demon in the video game shows a sign ‘GAME OVER’.

Outside of his work on it, what was his favourite thing on Good Omens: spending time with Douglas and Neil, and also working with Milk VFX - I think I can honestly say it's the best job I've ever worked on with the nicest people. 

5. Paul Adeyefa (Disposable Demon)

He first read the book when preparing for the audition - the character wasn’t in the book but he got into it, loved it and couldn’t put it down.

He didn’t know about the name Eric until the script was published and people started calling the demon that, he really likes the name and thinks it fits.

There was a version of the script where the demon was going to be dressed in different costumes each time he was discorporated (for example one in long hair wearing a dress) - they would be all the same but different incarnations, in one version they had different accents. 

The first scene he shot was the one where the demon goes to Heaven to deliver the Hellfire (and also wants to hit ‘Aziraphale’ which was cut). That first day was also his favourite moment of shooting because there was an immediate welcoming atmosphere and everyone was lovely and in love with the production.

Disposable Demon is like a permanent intern, running errands for the higher ups in Hell.

His favourite part of the costume were the eyelashes (though he loved the whole costume).

If he could change anything about the costume he would also want cool contact lenses - some brightly coloured ones.

Question what animal (like other demons have on their heads) comes to mind when we see the Disposable Demon: he didn’t think about it at the time, but later he saw people talking about his horns as bunny ears and found it interesting, and also the facts that there are so many of him and that he is quite happy and friendly for a demon so the bunny makes sense, so he might be a sort of a rabbit. Or perhaps something goat type because of the horns.

Question if there is another role in Good Omens he would have liked to have played: he always thought that the four horsemen were very cool and Pollution was his favourite so probably Pollution (also was the most jealous of Pollution’s contact lenses). 

If there were a season 2, he would be there in a heartbeat.

Question about Eric’s feelings on Crowley, if he’s a bit of a Crowley fan: I think he might be. There is something about Crowley and how he is somehow a little bit different from the rest of the demons. - and the Disposable Demon has, much like Crowley, interest in the human world. He could well be 6,000 how many years old, the same as everyone else, but he seems to have this younger vibe and I think he thinks that Crowley is quite cool.

Good Omens fandom is his first experience with a fandom of this scale. It speaks a lot, the fact that this kind of very, this minor character, a character who is only on screen for a very short amount of time gets any kind of attention at all, it's quite amazing really, it goes to show how big and enthusiastic the fans are. I never experienced anything like that.

6. Jeremy Marshall-Roberts (the owner of Mary the Bentley)

When Crowley used a miracle to switch off the Bentley lights in Episode 1 at nuns manor it was done by: there was actually a very small guy called Louis turning on and off the switches quickly.

David Tennant was allowed to wear the snake eye contacts for only 3 hours a day otherwise they could damage his eyesight.

For Mary, the Bentley, it was the second time she was ‘blown up’ on film - first being in the Endeavour with Inspector Morse about three years earlier.

He was a bit nervous during filming the bookshop fire scene because the Bentley was so close to a real fire - not wanting the paint to blister. The car was moved off after a few minutes of filming but still.

About the damage to Mary: Unfortunately, we overran, and Rob my stunt driver had already booked a holiday and off he went and so when he returned in January, on the 10th of January, I had this new driver who really had no clue how to drive old cars, so I showed him around, I showed him to go around corners. He came around the corner, the door was not closed properly for some reason and the door flew open as he went around. And instead of slamming on the brakes which is extremely efficient and would stop him straight away he kept on going, hit another car and really smashed the door quite badly. It did take the car off the roads for 10 months. The door was completely remade because of this accident and it cost the total of  £24 000 to rebuild the car to get it back to running as it is today.

The Bentley’s part most difficult to maintain and service is the engine. 

Would Mary be available for a potential season 2: definitely!

[sugamamacustard]

One more time

Pairing:  Alpha! Toru Oikawa x Omega! Reader

Genre: Fluff! (Sorry, no NSFW this time! I just couldn’t fit it!)

Request: Hi 👋 May I request an Alpha Oikawa x Omega reader scenario where they already have a pup and Oikawa wants another. How he would he be with his pregnant omega and his pups ?I'm sorry if this is confusing, ABO Au is one of my favourites but I have never made a request before so I'm not sure how to explain? Fluff, NSFW you can write it however u like THANK YOU 💕

Summary: You loved your small little family, but your alpha felt there was something missing. 

Author’s Note: I loved this request so much??? Like, it’s so wholesome and domestic and my A’/B/O heart melts every time at Dad! Alpha! boys.  I’m super sorry as I didn’t put any NSFW into this. 

Requests: Open!

Toru Oikawa

➵  Your daughter Akemi was a blessing in every sense of the word. She was a sweetheart, happy and giggly and the absolute cutest little thing.

➵   Even if she did look like an absolute carbon copy of your husband.

➵  Her bright brown eyes and chocolate locks all copy and pasted from him.  

➵ She was precious in every way nonetheless, even if Toru rubbed it in your face every chance he got.

➵ You never got made at him though, as he was the ideal father in every sense of the word. 

➵   He made time for Akemi every day, even if he was sore and sweaty from practice—he’d shower before saying hi to her--, he’d let you have at least thirty minutes a day to yourself, more if he feels he has it down, which is almost always the case.  

➵   Toru fed her, changed her, helped you to clean up the house. You both worked like a well-oiled machine and parenthood was a breeze.

➵    It was tough at times but you both stuck to your guns, communicating efficiently about what you wanted for Akemi and her childhood.

➵    How you wanted to deal with future tantrums, what schools you were looking at for her (Neither of you were touching high schools just yet), but there was one thing that you always seemed to slip out of discussing.

➵     Siblings for Akemi.

➵    Either you never really had the time before Akemi was crying, or you and Toru were fast asleep by the time you had the chance or- there were just a multitude of things that stopped the conversation from happening. 

➵   Until Akemi’s first birthday though.  You were rocking your daughter to sleep, brushing your hand along her head and past the brown locks on her head, just reveling in the feeling of holding your pup, a sign of your and your alpha’s love for each other, even if your omega felt the smallest bit…Empty? 

➵   You knew that you and Toru wanted more children, just never got a chance to really talk about it

➵   . “Hey,” Your husbands voice purred into your ear, making you purr in response.

➵    His hands rested on your hips, holding you close as he held his daughter’s hand, running his thumb over her knuckles with such a soft and proud smile, making you just melt.

➵  “I know we haven’t talked about it in a while, but I want another.” 

➵  You laughed. “Another pup, huh?”

➵  He nodded, rounding around to take Akemi. He laid her in her crib, slowly moving to hold you close once more—his hands on your hips with yours wrapped around your neck.

➵ He kissed your forehead, resting his forehead against yours. 

➵  “Mhmm. This time they’ll look just like you with your cute little nose and beautiful eyes. Maybe even your adorable little cheeks.” You laughed, squirming when his hands came up to pinch your cheeks, enlarging your smiling face. 

➵ He let go suddenly, turning and walking out of the nursery with a smirk. “Of course, maybe the Oikawa genes just run to deep.” He chuckled, making his way to your bedroom. You merely laughed once more before following. 

___

➵ “And then when mommy’s tummy is all big and round- Pop! Out comes your new sibling. Maybe a boy or girl. I hope for a girl. Two little princesses to spoil and love.” 

➵ Akemi giggled at her father’s words, not really understanding what was going on but enjoying the attention, nonetheless. 

➵  Toru couldn’t blame her though, as he too was laughing and giggling all through the house.

➵  It had been four months since you began trying, a heat passing where Oikawa proved yet again, he was the perfect husband by tending to you and allowing his sister to watch Akemi for four days your heat was there. 

➵ She was ecstatic to hear the news of you guys trying and jumped at every opportunity to babysit for you guys.  

➵ “It’s not really a pop, but whatever you say, Daddy.” You laughed, stepping out of the bathroom, thin stick in your hands. Toru watched you expectantly, turning Akemi to look at you too.  

➵ “Ma!” Akemi preened, holding your cheeks with her small chubby hands when your nose rubbed against hers.  

➵ You crouched in front of her, holding Toru’s knees with your hands before smiling up at him.

➵  “Hope your ready to go through those nine months again.” You chuckled, Toru nearly squealing with delight as he brought you into a hug, Akemi squished carefully between you two. 

➵ “Ma!” 

➵ “Ma- Oh my god- I’m gonna be a dad again ‘Kemi! Focus on me!”

➵  “Ma!”

___

➵ You knew you married Toru Oikawa for a good reason. 

➵ Yes, he could be an asshole. 

➵ Yes, he could be the most annoying person you would ever meet.

➵  Yes, he sometimes cared too much for volleyball and-

➵ You had a point. What was it?

➵ Oh- Toru was an amazing husband through and through, despite all his flaws. He cared deeply for you, for your daughter, for your new baby (You decided to keep the gender a surprise to piss of Mattsun and Hanamaki who had a current running bet on what it would be).

➵  Every inch of his being, both alpha and not, was dedicated to your family. He was just as doting during this pregnancy as he was the last, making you purr in delight. He never wasted an opportunity to run out and grab whatever you were craving. He was even teaching Akemi to help. 

➵ She’d waddle around after you—making you watch where you are going 24/7—picking up anything you dropped and giving it the extra foot and a half that would make your life so much easier. 

➵ She picked out blankets and onesies and pacifiers, everything you would need she had a say in. And maybe it was another Blood Oikawa thing, but she had great taste. 

➵ There was a small running duckling theme in the new nursery, which was painted a pale grey, most of which was coordinated by…You guessed it.

➵  Oikawa and Akemi. 

➵For being twenty- almost twenty-one - months (A year and eight months), she was incredibly clever and smart for her age. That was all you though.

➵  No way was Toru ‘hit it till it breaks’ Oikawa the smart one in your relationship. (I live to bully this man I’m so sorry).

➵ When the first signs of labour (I’ve waited for this moment. To write about labour, as I see it done wrong all the time and as a Bio 30 student it hurts) showed up, you two began making plans to slowly prep yourself for the delivery of your new baby. 

➵ Oikawa called up his sister, who screeched—loudly into his ear when he told her about your first contractions—before agreeing to come over in case they drastically increased. You re-packed and double checked your hospital bag, making sure you had everything you didn’t during your first trip.  

➵ And you even packed Akemi her own bag for when her aunt would drop her off to meet her new sibling.  She was just as excited to meet them as you were and was constantly handing you things she would later ‘gift’ to her sibling (These included a multitude of…art that was labeled 2 bb in the cutest, but messiest scribbles you’ve ever seen). 

➵ You had to explain that when her sibling got back from the hospital, she could give them all the art she wanted as it would not all fit into the bag. She understood, watching you pack a change of clothes and pull ups for her. 

➵ She would waddle after you as you and Toru would slowly walk up and down the hallways to try and ease the pain, which was more uncomfortable than painful really.  

➵ Coos left both of you when she tied to hold onto your leg like Toru was, looking up to you with wide eyes brimmed with tears. 

➵ When active labour kicked in, she cried, hugging you both before you left. Akemi made sure to pat your belly at least one more time before waving you off, watching you both leave. 

➵ Toru was amazing the whole time, purring to you and letting you crush his hand (Yes. It was his spiking hand as he was going on paternity leave and had the time to heal. Plus, nothing would ever top his family).  

➵ When it came time to push, he was encouraging in every sense of the word, coaching you through the entire thing.

➵  He brushed off every snap you sent his way, every angry word and vile insult spat his way. He didn’t know what you were going through, just that it was painful and taxing on every part of your being. 

➵ Mentally, physically, and he was not about to start a fight with you. 

___

➵ When your son was finally handed to Toru, he cried. He’s cried a lot in his life, most in front of you, but he would always cry when it came to his family.  

➵ His son was just as small as Akemi was when she was born, but just as precious. 

➵  His face was squishy and chubby—and cone shaped—but he was adorable and you both absolutely loved him. 

➵ When Akemi got to meet him, she also cried. She loved her brother the moment they met, which you and Toru were forever grateful for, and would refuse to go more then ten feet away from him.  

➵ You ended up naming him Hiroshi, which Akemi had been trying to pronounce for as long as she’d known it.  

➵ Your little family was beautiful, and Toru was thankful for you, giving him his two bundles of absolute joy, and your love.

➵  He was entranced with you from the moment he met you and never knew his life would lead to this. He wouldn’t change it even if he had the chance. 

➵ In case you were wondering, your son ended up looking exactly like his sister and your husband. Seems the Oikawa genes run long and true.  

[xhatake]

@zealctry enabled me:

okay so misaki (inuzuka) hatake is a kunoichi of the hidden leaf. she & sakumo don't get closer until later in life but they become this really cool team. misaki is not nearly as powerful as sakumo [ as sakumo is literally on the same level as the sanin - this is canon ] but they work in tandem really well. i once described their dynamic as ' misaki is the warning bell, sakumo is the promised storm ' . misaki grows up embracing brutality, coldness, she expects & wants to die for her village so it's a surprise when she survives past childhood. her team doesn't, but she does. it leaves her in a spot very similar to kakashi's canon where she gets deep in the ' live for the village, die for the village' perspective & her expertise in tracking down & killing people drives her to rise in ranks.

she's a natural but brutal leader. efficiency was her middle name. she didn't care who had to die for success, herself included. this starts to change after she's assigned to work with sakumo a little more. where she used to delight in bloodshed, he makes her question the patterns she's been taught. he poses the question of ' is it worth it? ' & she really cannot answer that. satisfaction is nice, yes. she loves to feed her pride. but what does she have to show for all the blood on her hands? nightmares that's what. she starts to forge a friendship with him though they are often at odds. but he shows her a way much different than her own & she likes it.

she was an expert tracker as well, she had two ninken she worked with regularly. absolute nightmare dogs with curly tails. they're pretty small for inuzuka ninken, but it works better that way. they can hide & fight when necessary without putting themselves at risk needlessly. i think sakumo has an interest in ninken & training some of his own. misaki, who oversee's some of the breeding works with him to train & raise ninken of his own. which ultimately shows him a side of her he didn't know existed. this softness about her that's spared only for her pups.

sakumo starts to catch feelings. shenanigans ensue. misaki is a natural beauty, but sakumo is a legendary shinobi. misaki's pride keeps her from swooning like all the other girls, which adds to the draw sakumo feels towards her. misaki isn't interested at first. She has things to do, she isn't going to swoon over the white fang like so many others were prone to do. But she likes that he wants her. There's actually one scene I've always imagined for them / wrote once where sakumo gets her flowers, tries to give them to her while she's reading in the park, she trips him & keeps reading, stepping over him & keeping on her way. but she finds him so endearing.

they work together not only in raising ninken, but also on more missions. Misaki begins to recognize how he values life, which is rare. especially during this time.. For example, this is the time of the sanin. This is during & right after the second shinobi war. Brutality is expected, but Sakumo surprises her constantly. Eventually she catches feelings too & their romance is fast & hard. I have a headcanon about sakumo having bpd, feeling everything to the max & this being part of the reason why his despair is so strong. why it is so isolating. but, this also leads him to love so hard with every fiber of his being. in doing this, his fire melts the ice around her heart it's all very poetic.

buttttt i think misaki dies a little bit after kakashi's third birthday. she's on a mission, she gets captured & rather than wait to be rescued, she tears through her opponents. which was sooo unescessary like if she would have waited even 15 minutes she would have had the backup she needed i'm talking she emerges from the enemy's hideout, her knees give out on her & sakumo catches her before she hits the ground. thats how close she was to having help & surviving. but she's not patient like that, you see. She dies in his arms & he carries her body back to the village to bury her.

very shortly after this, kakahsi chooses his name. there is a post somewhere that i will link when i can find it that talks about kakashi naming himself after the scarecrow in his mother's garden & i abide by it because i think it i such a lovely concept. also tragic. i love tragedy. i think this whole generation is full of tragedy though. like don't get me wrong, the third shinobi war is awful. but the second one is worse. there are no boundaries, limits for what is expected of all of these people ( only a generation & a half after the warring states period ) experience. but if i get deep into second shinobi war talk it's over. I'll need a whole google doc about that.

[nabesthetics]

MC getting the guys + Asra flowers 💐

A HC request from @sociallyacceptable that has been sitting in my inbox for over a month because I am like that :’B Muri’s is a bit different, but I got the idea and couldn’t just let it go, alright Also yes I did go overboard a bit by adding plot, what about it

FLUFF TIME. It’s just a tiny bit suggestive in a couple of places, but it’s all PG, I promise.

💙 Asra 💙

The Apprentice gets the bouquet on a whim.

They spot a flower stall at the market while shopping for spices and some ingredients for the shop; one of the arrangements, a mix of deep purple and pastel violet remind them of Asra and Faust at the same time.

On the way back, the MC adds a couple of enchantments to the flowers, to both make them last longer and leave a little personal touch: some of the blooms end up sparkling as if the live petals were made out of delicate amethyst crystals.

Asra is conjuring something in the kitchen when they return home; hearing the front door closing, he starts his regular playful banter without turning from the stove.

Faust sees the MC enter the kitchen first, popping her head up from Asra’s shoulder and blepping in greeting.

“Pretty!”

“Mmhm, they sure are Fa- oh.”

His surprise quickly gives place to delight, and moments later he’s pulling MC into a kiss.

They just can’t help but make him fall in love all over again every day, huh?

But if they say a cheesy line about the color of his eyes, he will tease them a bit for that, even if he is blushing at the same time and already tucking one of the sparkling flowers into their hair.

Everything else is forgotten for the rest of the day, he just wants to turn all of his attention to them, grateful to the universe for being able to hold them as much as they wish.

(He probably ended up burning whatever he was cooking, though)

The bouquet will stay in the bedroom, just for the three of them to see.

They have to go and get Faust her own flower basket the next day, because she wants to sleep in the flowers.

Asra puts his own spell on one of MC’s enchanted flowers, to complete its transformation into ice-like lavender crystal, preserved in time and kept as another memory that he would like to remember.

❤️ Julian ❤️

Unfortunately, Love Festival tends to be a very busy day at both the shop and the clinic.

While MC handles the expected influx of demand for pretty magical trinkets, Julian has to deal with the over-enthusiastic lovebirds who end up at the clinic after trying to “spice things up”; it is entertaining most of the time, but also means that the two have to be apart all day, to Julian’s great dismay.

He swears that he’ll try to make it home before dinner.

They both know that he likely won’t.

So around midday, MC closes the shop for a while and heads to the numerous festival stalls.

And in the first minutes of Julian’s lunch break, they dramatically show up in his office with a no less dramatic crimson bouquet, nearly making the poor doctor spill his (third cup of) coffee all over himself and the papers he’s been working on.

He’s having troubles processing it.

“H-hello, darling, did you- ah, I mean- are those... foooor me?”

He almost adds an “are you sure” in there before his brain catches up.

Once it does, he grins and hurries to get up from his desk and sweep the MC off their feet, sending them laughing.

He’s deeply touched and somewhat sheepish: for all his theatrics and love of cheesy romantic gestures, this man will never get used to being on the receiving end.

Oh how he loathes the fact that he doesn’t have the time to thank them properly right there and then; stealing their breath with a kiss will have to do for now.

The flowers are definitely enchanted - Julian can barely take care of cacti - and will stay in his office once MC fetches a vase from their shop next door; he may or may not tear up just a bit while looking at them at some point.

He does make it to dinner, by the way - other workers at the clinic practically kick their boss out because he’s overworking as it is - and takes the MC to a lovely evening in the city.

💚 Muriel 💚

It’s been a long project, with the hardest part being keeping Muriel in the dark about it; MC managed to talk Inanna into helping.

Finally, when everything’s ready, they “go for a walk” in the forest together, with MC leading them to their secret spot.

A small clearing in the forest has been transformed into a colorful island of flowers. Carnations and wild primroses from the depths of the palace garden; a few plants from the Heart’s clearing, their soft glow visible even during the day; and of course, forget-me-nots and MC’s own favorite flowers.

There’s enough space to walk freely between the flower patches, and few charms decorate the surrounding trees, keeping the plants flourishing and covering the area with a blanket of calm, peaceful aura.

Muriel freezes on the edge of the clearing, stunned, looking over the carefully selected plants and then turning to MC with a silent question in his eyes.

It’s been a year since the two of them confessed their love to each other, they explain. So they wanted to create something special, to remind of that moment.

There’s a blush on his cheeks as his expression softens into a smile.

“...you never stop surprising me. Thank you.”

He leans down for a kiss, softly at first, then picks them up to kiss them like he did a year ago.

Really, the only reason he doesn’t take it further is that Inanna is right there, somehow looking very pleased with herself before she trots into the clearing to lay down next to a wild lavender patch.

They stay there for the entire evening, enjoying each other’s company.

Muriel teaches MC how to make flower crowns, and doesn’t try to take his off this time; Inanna ends up with a flower necklace as well.

They head back home when the stars above match the shining flowers scattered throughout the clearing.

That place becomes one of their favorite spots for years to come, with them maintaining and modifying it together.

🤍 Lucio 🤍

Lucio “I should be showering YOU with gifts!” Morgasson isn’t as used to receiving gifts as one might expect.

Oh, there were many people trying to get in his good graces through expensive gifts back in his Count years, but those were basically expected grandiose bribes, really; never a simple genuine gesture of affection.

Lucio himself goes strongly overboard with gifts at any given opportunity, and that does sometimes include flowers - or at the very least petals on the bed, he’s that kind of guy.

MC figures that “revenge” is long overdue.

It takes a little while to turn that idea into reality, but finally, after completing a few rather intense contracts in a row, the two go back to Vesuvia for a week to catch up with others and take a break from adventuring, with Nadia letting them stay in MC’s guest bedroom.

After sleeping in, Lucio wakes up to an empty bed and the intense smell of vanilla and chocolate in the room.

There’s a plate of freshly baked cookies on the desk, clearly not the “typical palace type”; it’s a pleasant surprise, if slightly confusing - but he is alright with being slightly confused with a cookie in his mouth.

That’s when MC quietly opens the door, beams upon seeing that he’s up, and enters with a bouquet of white, yellow and orange flowers in their hands.

The absolutely dumbfounded mid-chew expression on his face is fascinating to watch, as his eyes dart from the flowers to MC and then to the walls: there are a few seconds of badly concealed panic as Lucio frantically tries to recall what date it is, did he forget something, are they expecting something in return and he’s not ready-

Then, that one slightly wavering grin, “Gooood morning. What’s the occasion, dove?”

“The occasion is that I love you.”

How dare.

Well, good thing that the bed is right here, because he really doesn’t know how else to deal with this situation.

The flowers stay on the desk for the rest of the week, and Lucio turns pink every time he spots them.

He soon figures out how to deal with the situation, though; little does MC know that they just started a gift war.

[foilfreak]

Beauty and Her Beast: Summary and Ch.1

A Salvatore Moreau x Female!FishMutant!oc fic based on this idea I had the other day that a very specific subset of the fanfom went absolutely apeshit for, which I'm here for and decided to act on. I can't make any promises for consistent uploading or even a finishes product by the end of this, but so long as im still interested in working on it, I'll keep working on it, and if im not, then I wont, plain and simple. Anyways, here's the summary and chapter 1, please let me know what you think of the story so far, i hope you all enjoy (you'd better all enjoy), and I can't wait to see you all again for chapter 2. Bye! <333 (Link to ao3 posting will be in comments so check there if you want to read it there instead)

Warning: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

Summary:

Now, I’m sure everyone already knows the ancient tales that tell of a beautiful young woman slowly falling in love with a horrific monstrosity of a man. The pure and true love this innocent beauty comes to feel for him, despite his terrifying appearance, is the key that breaks the cruel and twisted curse under which he’d been kept prisoner. This allows the man behind the monster to not only return to his true human form, but then go on to live his Happily Ever After with the beauty who saved him. Everyone already knows of these tales, as well as the messages behind them, however that is not quite the way this particular tale plays out.

The tale I am about to tell bears many similarities to the one above, however there are also quite a few important differences. For while the original detailed a beauty falling for a monster because of the kind and loving man he was behind his hideous exterior, this is a tale of a beauty, with a few monstrous qualities of her own, falling in love with a kind and loving monster, not at all despite his grotesque appearance, but rather, in part, because of it.

This is a tale, where the Beast still falls for his Beauty first, but the Beauty is the one who will be pursuing her Beast.

Chapter 1: Mother's Gift

Few of those who lived isolated from the outer world, high up in the mountains of Romania, would expect anyone of reasonable sanity to be out traveling in this hellish sort of weather. The wind howling a demonic high pitched tune; snow, sleet, and hail pounding into the ground like an endless shower of bullets from the heavens; and hungry lycans still roaming the area, tirelessly looking for their next meal, would be enough to incentivize even the strongest of mortal men to seek shelter away from the deadly conditions of the outside.

A man by the name of Salvatore Moreau however, one of the 4 lords of this mountain region who lived in the reservoir just past the windmills, did not appear terribly concerned with what other people thought of the traveling conditions. Completely unbothered by the horrifying weather and threat of suddenly being ground into doggy food, the hooded man trudged his way through the dark and barely maintained snow paths. Starting at the reservoir and making his way toward the village, Salvatore moved as quickly as his deformed body would permit, an unusually chipper spring added to his lumbering hobble of a walk.

Mother had a gift for him.

Yes, a truly joyous day it was whenever Mother Miranda called upon him to join her and the other lords for a meeting. Miranda was usually so busy with her experiments that she rarely had time to visit her children outside of these ‘family meetings’ they’d been having recently. However, it would appear as though Mother has come up with a solution of some kind to this problem and wishes to share it with them in person. Whatever this solution is, the mutated man has no idea, as Mother Miranda had been quite vague in her message, however the fact that Salvatore was being given the chance to see his radiant mother AND receive a gift from her, all in one day, was more than enough to make up for how agonizingly lonely he’s been these last few months since winter set in, as well as how agonizing it was for him to walk in this weather.

Salvatore arrived at the usual meeting site just as the clock struck 8pm, precisely as Mother had instructed. However, much to the hooded man’s confusion, when he turned the handle on the large wooden door to enter the room, he quickly realized that he was currently the only one present. This was especially strange considering that, usually, at least one of his siblings was always present a little earlier than necessary, usually Alcina or Karl, but occasionally Donna with Angie in tow.

Mother had clearly said in her message that she wanted to start the meeting at 8pm sharply, so where on earth is everyone?

“Moreau” Mother Miranda’s voice called out, immediately pushing all thoughts from Salvatore’s brain as her powerful, yet lucious voice echoed against the halls of the room like a choir of angels.

“Y-yes! W-what… is it… M-mother Miranda? I-i-i came to you… j-just like you asked” Salvatore responds, bowing his head in reverence as he slowly crosses the room and approaches the otherworldly woman.

“So you did, though I suppose you coming exactly when I call makes the most sense. You always were the most obedient of my children” the woman remarks with casual disdain, her voice devoid of any sort of motherly affection or tenderness. Despite the clear disgust and disregard with which Miranda regards the hooded man standing before her, her words light Salvatore’s soul ablaze, filling his mangled body with intense feelings of heat and desire that melt his heart of the cold, icy frost that had frozen it over the course of the long winter.

“Y-y-yes, y-yes of c-course, Mother M-Miranda! I-i would… I would do any-anything... for y-you. A-anything you s-say... anything y-you n-need… I’d d-do it... f-for you. W-without question!” The deformed man says, practically getting on his hands and knees and crawling as he neared closer and closer to Miranda, stopping only when he’d arrived just in front of the steps the raven mother stood upon, his gaze trained at the ground as he knelt at her feet, awaiting his fate at his mother’s hands.

“I know you would, Moreau,” Miranda says cooly, gently brushing the palm of her hand against the black fabric that covers the top of Salvatore’s head, “which is why I’ve called you here today; to reward you for your loyalty and service to me thus far.”

Salvatore sinks sharp and jagged teeth into the flesh of his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood as he desperately tries to silence the needy whine that wanted to tear its way from the back of his throat. His body shivered and twitched in unimaginable delight from the sudden tender caress to his sensitive skin. How long had it been since someone had touched him so gently? How long since someone had spoken to him with such kind and soft words. Took the time to gather presents as a reward for years of faithful servitude? How long since someone had loved him like this?

‘Too long’ the disfigured man sighed to himself, reveling in the soft, gentle contact for as long as he is able.

“Moreau. Look at me” Miranda commanded firmly, and despite not wanting his beloved Mother to be forced to bear witness to his hideous face, he complied, lifting his head up and back to allow his gaze to lift from the floor and up at the glowing figure that was his Mother, his beautiful, incredible, intelligent, majestic mother.

The light shining down from above illuminates Miranda from behind. From Salvatore’s perspective on the floor, the light darkens her face and most of her torso and waist, giving a softened, almost ethereal glow around Miranda’s figure. This, along with the rest of her garb, makes Mother Miranda appear even more like the holy woman that Salvatore naively believes she still is. Despite her less than affectionate treatment of him thus far, Salvatore still stared up at the darkened face of Mother Miranda, his eyes shining with reverence, love, desire, and unending devotion.

“Y-yes... Mother?” Salvatore breathed, barely able to speak above a whisper as Miranda stepped away, gesturing for him to follow.

“Are you ready to collect your gift now?” The raven mother asks, speaking more softly than before and even holding her hand out to Salvatore, her pose and appearance mirroring that of a powerful god taking mercy upon her wretched follower, reaching out to reward the years of faithful servitude and worship.

Salvatore, barely able to keep himself calm as he stumbled to his feet, did not grace Mother Miranda’s question with a proper response, instead practically racing to take the woman’s outstretched hand in his own.

“I’m ready Mother… I-I’m ready for... my g-gift now… can I… c-can I have it n-now… p-please?” Salvatore begs, pulling at Miranda’s hand like an overly excited child, seemingly unaware of the disgusted twist of her face when the hooded man’s cold, slimy fingers firmly latched onto hers.

“Of course, my child” Mother Miranda says, pulling her hand back from Salvatore’s and instead placing it along the man’s hunched back, beginning to guide him to wherever it was the raven mother had hidden his gift.

As Salvatore limped next to Mother Miranda, the deformed man couldn’t help but wonder what exactly it was that Mother had gotten for him. Was it a new cloak, to replace the worn one he was currently wearing? Perhaps a new set of romance films so he didn’t have to rewatch the ones he already owned over and over again anymore? Or maybe it was something to help with his digestion?

It would be nice to get his chronic acid reflux under control again.

Regardless of what the gift actually turned out to be however, Salvatore was merely pleased that he was finally getting a chance to spend time with Mother Miranda all by himself for a change.

Maybe, if he was lucky, she’d even agree to hold him, just like she always did back when he was still undergoing cadou treatment.

Oh how wonderful that would be!

[tipsydipsydo]

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Gender of the Reader: Female

Word Count: 1.2k

Rating: 18+

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Sexual Language; Dirty Talk; Dom-/Sub Dynamics (Switchy Kook and switchy Reader; Kook was dominant at first and slowly turns into subby! Kook 😇💕); Wall Sex; lowkey Strength-Kink; Marking; Petnames; Praising; Begging; Mentions of Pubic Hair; Teasing; soft Edging; unprotected vaginal Sex (please stay safe!); Creampie; Mentions of Face-Sitting; Mentions of Cumplay;

A/N: Like usually, my dear Sibi @borathae was my Muse again after we thirsted about Jungkook's bulky Biceps together and she gave me a lot of Inspo for this here! ♡ (It's also more like another thing to tease the shit out of her and make her feral and angy at me 😂 Sorry not sorry Babe 😇)

Her Statement in one Audio Message:

"Why do you do this always to me? I swear, I'll never gonna tell you any of my fucking kinks again because you just gonna fucking use them against me!"

....yes, I would say that's kinda accurate? I'm sorry not sorry? 🤷🏻‍♀️😁

Synopsis: You don't know why but today was the first Day you realized how buff and bulky Jungkook's Biceps are. And the fact that they look delicious when they're tensed up...

Sources: My Inspo-Sources for this Fanfic/my Header

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「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

A guttural, almost animalistic grunt leaves Jungkook's throat as he crashes with his muscular and well defined body once more into yours and pounds you against the hallway wall.

His forearms are hooked under your knees and holding you up against the wall, giving him the best access to bury his thick length with every thrust balls deep into your juices dripping cunt.

Jungkook lowers his view to the spot where you two are connected, a deep feral growl found his way out of his gritted teeths. The cute curls of your pubic hair are drenched in your arousal, in lube and probably in his precum too and glisten seductively in the dummes light of the hallway.

His almost wolfish noises send an electric shock of lust down your spine. You feel it, deep down in your chest, how a loud moan full of pleasure and primal sexual desire builds up and waits for his chance to be freed.

Your own sounds of pure and raw need joins Jungkook's audible expressions and creates a filthy and so intoxicating melody. The exchange of his deep growls and your moans and whimpers makes you even wetter and lets Jungkook's girthy cock twitch noticeably in your pussy.

You purr in delight as your lips came in contact with his soft and sweaty skin and immediatedly starts sucking harshly on his smooth skin.

A trembling and high-pitched whine escapes his so beautiful swollen lips, a noise which stands in complete contrast to that low growl before. Quickly he presses his lips together and hid his flustered face with red flushed cheeks in the crook of your neck.

At the beginning of this naughty intercourse he was surrounded by such a massive Dom Aura. He pounded the shit out of you and showed no mercy, loved the feeling to be fully in charge and used you like he desired. As if you are his little fuckdoll.

...and honestly, you loved it. Even when you're more a Switch with a strong dominant side, you truly loved it to get manhandled by him.

But his Dom starts to crumble, piece for piece he falls slowly apart and reveals his strong submissive Side. Kook's sweet whimper and his adorable Shyness about his cute noise draws the attention of your inner Dom to your sweet and shy Boy.

Your Switches works perfectly with each other. Whenever Kookie turns back into a more submissive behaviour, your own Dom comes out and couldn't wait to claim tje precious Boy as your own again.

The need to mark him, to re-new the fading hickeys and to ruin him all over again is incredibly high. Your mouth leaves a trail of dark marks behind and wanders over to your personal favourite spot, his pulse point.

Jungkook gasps and a strangled, whiny moan comes in pants over his cherry red lips. Greedy desire shoots through his veins and his hips speeds even more up, fucking into you in a rapid pace and are searching for any kind of relief.

You're lost in your own pleasure but you are still able to manage to clench around him just right. It drives him insane and he's not joking at all.

He knows this feeling, it feels like as if it's already too much but still not enough for him to cum. He gets this feeling very often since you two are in a relationship, you're almost always able to make him feel this way.

This feeling is tortourious but also unbelievable amazing and it already made him lowkey addicted to it.

You chuckles at the sight of him in front of you, he's all subby and and needy for you again. Gently you push the few sweat-soaked strands of hair out of his face before you lift his chin up to you to give him a long and passionate kiss. He mewls and his body trembles when he hears your greedy growl as your palm and fingers wraps around his buff and tensed up biceps.

"Hm? What was that? Was your inner Dom not strong enough to keep the façade of being all bossy up? Was your sweet Sub stronger than you want to admit, so you turned in my sweet precious Baby Boy again? Oh Baby, don't be shy~ being a submissive Boy isn't a Bad thing at all! You know how much I love it to have you that way, my sweet Darling~", you coo at him and make him blush even more.

Your teasing words makes him all flustered and shy but whebeveryou call him 'Baby Boy', his cock twitches inside of you and tiny whimper comes through his slightly open lips.

"Bab- Mistress! P-Please... I-I need to c-cum! I can't take it and longer...", pants Jungkook in a whiny and trembling voice, some hiccups follows and it sounds like he's near to tear up. Maybe from your teasing words or the humiliation of his own body to fall so quickly back into his submissive position.

"Oh Baby, don't cry, okay? It's absolutely okay and normal to fall back into the position you're most used to. It's fine, Baby Boy. Cum for your Mistress, stuff your creamy cum deep inside of her pussy and fill her all up to the brim~", you wisper sweetly in his ear. Pulling him with your calves on his lower back even further into your greedy cunt.

"O-Oh my God, y-yes! T-Thank you so much, Mistress, thank you! Will fill you up like the Good Boy I am!", he cry out and promises you over and over again.

It doesn't take long anymore, just a few more thrusts to make Jungkook cum deep into you. Shoots rope after rope of thick creamy white cum into your tight, velvety walls until you feel in a special way pretty full. Yes, your sweet Boy is a very healthy Boy and has huge loads to give and to play around.

"That's it, pretty Boy. Such a good Boy you are for me~", you praise him softly and smiles fondly at him while you play gently with the hair in his nape. Nevertheless, your Darling is a shy bean and doesn't dare to look up at you. Until a certain realisation hits him.

"Miss... You didn't cum. Can you sit on my face so I can make it up to you? Pretty Please? Wanna make you feel good too and wanna taste myself in your pretty pussy...", he begs and looks now into your face with those adorable big doe eyes.

Gosh, why is this Boy just so awfully cute and sweet?! You can barely say no to such loving doe eyes.

"...oh Baby, you're too cute for your own good! Go on then, get yourself what that Golden Boy desires."

[dekuskacchan]

the brightest light is you

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28681833

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, tooth rotting fluff

A/N: Hi friends!! This fic is a secret santa gift for my love @lonely-rabbit (you should totally follow her) and our lovely fambly. The prompts were “First Christmas,” and “Proposals.” I hope you like it! <3

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December 10th

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Katsuki saw the sign to the pet store before Izuku did, and immediately knew he was in trouble. Why is there a pet store inside a fucking strip mall?

“Kacchan, look!” Izuku pointed at a baby, chocolate colored bunny, sleeping in an enclosure on display in the front window.

“Absolutely not.”

“But look how cute she is!” Izuku pouted.

“Deku, we already have a cat.”

“Yeah, so she’d have a friend!”

“No, she’d get fucking eaten.”

“Chip would never, she’s too polite.”

“She’s a fucking demon!” Katsuki snapped.

“Pleeeease, Kacchan? She needs a home, and it’s just in time for Christmas,” Izuku wrapped his arms around Katsuki’s middle, staring up at him.

Katsuki averted his gaze and gritted his teeth, knowing he couldn't resist Izuku's pleading eyes.

“No. Don’t give me that fucking look.”

To Katsuki’s surprise, Izuku just laughed and released his hold on him.

“Fine, fine, you’re right,” Izuku sighed dramatically, “let’s go before I get too attached. I’m hungry, anyway.”

Katsuki watched as he walked away, considering for a moment.

“God fucking dammit,” Katsuki muttered, pulling out his phone to snap a picture before Izuku noticed.

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December 18th

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“Look at these, Kacchan!” Katsuki looked up from an outrageously priced scarf to see Izuku holding the most hideous sweaters he had ever seen. They were bright red, each decorated with a matching design that, when held together, formed a Christmas tree that was adorned with real tinsel, glitter, and colored pom-pom ornaments.

“Fuck no,” Katsuki spat, and Izuku burst into laughter.

“Why not? They’re perfect,”

“No way in hell you’re getting me to wear that shit,” Katsuki snapped.

“I can think of a few ways,” Izuku winked. Katsuki sputtered, pink dusting his cheeks.

“C’mon, Kacchan, it’s Christmas! We have to get ugly sweaters.”

It was their first Christmas together since buying their new house, and Izuku had insisted on decorating accordingly. Apparently that also included embarrassing the hell out of Katsuki.

“I don’t have to do shit.”

“Please?” Izuku pouted his lip.

Katsuki pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned.

“Fine,” he growled, while Izuku cheered and tossed the sweaters into the shopping cart.

“Oh, we could get matching Santa h-”

“Don’t even fucking think about it, Deku,” Katsuki pushed the cart forward, swiftly exiting the clothing section of the store as Izuku giggled behind him.

----------------------------------

It had been at least 30 minutes since Katsuki had seen Izuku. Where the fuck had he gone? This shop was too small to get lost in. He had checked all the aisles twice, but Izuku was nowhere to be found.

“Goddammit, every time,” Katsuki muttered, pulling out his phone to call again.

“Oh, Kacchan! There you are!” Katsuki jumped as a mop of green curls popped up from behind a giant red bin. How had he missed that?

“Jesus, Deku! You scared the shit out of me. How long have you fucking been there?,” Katsuki grumbled.

“Way too long. I’m trying to pick out lights, come help me,”

Katsuki sighed as he approached and took in the sight before him.

Izuku was muttering incomprehensibly to himself as he knelt amongst a messy pile of packages, each containing string lights of different sizes, shapes and colors.

“Those white ones in the big box,” Katsuki pointed, interrupting Izuku’s train of thought, “they’ll match the walls and the trim on the house."

Izuku looked up at Katsuki and beamed.

“You’re so smart.”

“Damn right,” Katsuki grinned, “and we’re getting a shit ton. We’re gonna have the best fucking house in the neighborhood," he pulled five boxes of lights from the bin, tossing them into the cart.

“Okay, Kacchan,” Izuku laughed as he cleaned up his mess.

----------------------------------

Their shopping cart was practically overflowing with decorations now, but Izuku didn’t seem to notice, excitedly pulling Katsuki all over the store.

“We already have three of these, nerd,” Katsuki watched as Izuku pondered over a vast selection of snowglobes.

“Yes, but not little ones! We could put these all over the house,” Izuku turned to face Katsuki, holding up a miniature globe with Dynamight’s signature gauntlets inside. Katsuki sighed and draped an arm around Izuku’s shoulder, knowing his mind was already made up.

“Could give this one to your mom,” Katsuki pointed to one that was large, green and orange, with “Wonder Duo” engraved on the front. Inside were little statues of Dynamight and Deku, posed dramatically in battle.

“She likes-,” Katsuki paused, abruptly letting go of Izuku and all but sprinting away, disappearing behind a shelving unit.

“Kacchan what’s-,” Izuku called, startled. He gasped when Katsuki returned with a box three times his size.

It was a giant, twelve foot tall statue of a Yeti wielding a staff. Katsuki poked his head around the side, grinning wickedly in delight.

“Kacchan, where would we even put that?” Izuku stared in disbelief.

“We’ll make room,” Katsuki grunted.

“Make room where?”

“We can put it next to the fireplace.”

“Kacchan, that’s where the stairs are.”

“Fuck the stairs.”

“That thing is taller than our ceiling,” Izuku stifled a laugh as Katsuki struggled to balance the weight of the box.

“Then we’ll put it outside,” Katsuki huffed in frustration.

“I don’t think our neighbors would like that, it’s scary.”

“Fuck the neighbors, this is badass.”

Izuku was laughing in earnest now, tears coming into his eyes.

“I can’t get a bunny, but you can get a giant monster?”

“This is way cooler than a fucking bunny.”

“I’m blaming you if we get in trouble with the landlord.”

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December 20th

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“That’s not food, Chip!” Izuku cried. “Let go!”

Katsuki snickered, slicing vegetables to add to a pot of bubbling curry while Izuku struggled to protect the tree from their cat.

“Shit!”

A resounding thud came from the living room, and Katsuki sighed as he dumped the ingredients into the pot.

“I need help here!” Izuku called desperately as Katsuki entered the room.

Izuku was on the floor, becoming increasingly tangled in ropes of tinsel as Chip rolled in it like she’d struck gold.

“I give up Kacchan, she won’t let- stop laughing! Can you grab her please? She keeps nibbling me” Izuku scowled.

Struggling not to choke on laughter, Katsuki whistled, quickly catching Chip’s attention.

“C’mere, you little shit, I’ve got something that tastes better than Deku,” Katsuki kneeled, dangling a piece of chicken in front of him. The tabby sprinted to him and happily devoured her prize.

“Dumb fucking cat,” he muttered under his breath.

“She likes you more than me,” Izuku chuckled, untangling himself from his tinsel prison to finish wrapping it around the tree.

“Course she does. She only likes the best,” Katsuki grinned, scratching Chip's chin as she purred and rubbed against his knee.

“There,” Izuku stood back to admire his handiwork, “I think it just needs the star now.”

“Can you even reach, shortstack?” Katsuki teased, watching Izuku struggle on his tiptoes.

“Of-” Izuku grunted,” of course I can.”

Wordlessly, Katsuki wrapped his arms around Izuku’s middle, lifting him up with ease to place the silver star atop the tree.

“It looks good, right?” Izuku grinned as Katsuki lowered him back down, still hugging him from behind.

“Yeah. Nice work, nerd,”

“Thanks, Kacchan.”

“Hm.”

“Christmas is gonna be great,” Izuku whispered.

“Be more fun if we just stayed home,” Katsuki grumbled into Izuku’s neck.

“That could be fun,” Izuku laughed, turning in Katsuki’s arm to hug him properly, “but it’ll be good to see our parents. It’s been over a month.”

“Tch. I guess,”

“Thanks for making dinner, Kacchan,” Izuku squeezed him tight and tilted his head up for a kiss.

“It’s gonna fucking burn if you don’t let go of me,” Katsuki murmured against his lips, but kissed him back.

“Hmm. That’s fine,”

Katsuki snorted.

“Hey, I think the demon spawn is ready for round two,” he nodded at the sneaky cat, who was quietly approaching the tree again.

“Dammit,” Izuku whipped around, tearing out of Katsuki’s arms, “Chip, stay out of there!”

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December 25th

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Katsuki woke to soft lips on his forehead

“Good morning, Kacchan,” Izuku whispered in his ear.

“ ‘S too fuckin early, Deku,” Katsuki groaned, eyes still closed.

“It’s almost 10.”

“I said what I said.”

Izuku yelped in surprise as Katsuki grabbed his waist and unceremoniously tugged him down onto the bed.

“Kacchan, it’s Christmas,” Izuku laughed, snuggling into his side, despite himself, “we’re supposed to be at your parents house in three hours.”

“Mmm, fuck’m,” Katsuki grumbled.

“I have coffee brewing,”

Katsuki’s ears perked up, the scent suddenly filling his nose. Sighing, he stretched his free arm above his head and cracked his eyes open to see Izuku smiling at him, wearing that atrocious sweater he’d picked out. Katsuki tucked a stray curl behind his ear.

Too cute for his own damn good.

“Come on, Kacchan, I made breakfast too,” Izuku pulled Katsuki by the arm as he sat up.

“You made breakfast?” Katsuki was dubious as he slid his glasses up his nose.

“Yep. My specialty,”

“Canned cinnamon rolls?”

“Canned cinnamon rolls.”

“....fuck yeah.”

Katsuki had long since accepted his role as the chef in their relationship, because Izuku couldn’t cook to save his fucking life, but canned pastries were a guilty pleasure he knew he’d never shake.

----------------------------------

It was a peaceful morning. The sun peeked through the curtains, bathing the room in warm, golden hues as they sat by the fire, Chip asleep on the couch between them.

“Hey, nerd, go open your present,” Katsuki nudged Izuku, who had begun to doze on his shoulder.

“Hm?” Izuku yawned, stretching his arms, “oh, okay!"

“It’s that red one,” Katsuki pointed to the largest package under the tree. Izuku eyed him curiously before crawling to open the gift, excitedly ripping through the paper and tape to reveal...

Another box, wrapped in different paper.

Izuku raised both eyebrows at him in confusion and Katsuki grinned.

“What, you don’t like it?” he mocked offense, as Izuku narrowed his eyes, “I’m just fucking with you. Keep going.”

Katsuki chuckled and quietly slipped out of the room while Izuku’s attention was occupied.

“Kacchan, this is so unnecessary,” Izuku groaned, as he pulled out yet a third box.

“Maybe I’ll just take it back, then,” Katsuki declared loudly as he re-entered the room, startling an oblivious Izuku.

“Kacchan, when did-” Izuku gasped. Katsuki was leaning against the wall with a smirk, holding a familiar small, chocolate brown bunny in his arms.

“I had Shitty Hair get her after we left the mall,”

“She’s been here for two weeks?!” Izuku cried in disbelief.

“You think I took care of her on my own? Fuck no,” Katsuki grumbled, meeting Izuku halfway and carefully passing him the rabbit, “had your mom keep her. Picked her up last night while you were asleep.”

“I love her,” Izuku smiled, burying his face in Katsuki's chest, “thank you, Kacchan."

Katsuki sighed, wrapping his arms around him and kissing his hair.

“I just knew you’d never shut the fuck up about it."

“Did you introduce her to Chip yet?”

“Yeah. She couldn’t fucking care less.”

Izuku laughed, kissing the bunny's soft head.

“I told you they’d be friends,”

“Yeah. Friends," Katsuki rolled his eyes, "go sit, there's one more,"

Izuku smirked as he watched Katsuki stumble over the ruins of his prank to retrieve the gift.

“There’d better not be another box in there, Kacchan,” Izuku warned, warily taking the package.

“Just open it, dumbass,” Katsuki barked a laugh and joined him on the couch.

Izuku pulled the lid off the long box and stared. Inside was a tall, holographic photo frame filled with drawings Izuku and Katsuki made as children. When tilted to the side, the images changed to reveal photographs of the pair as Pro Heroes.

“Kacchan, you- you kept these?”

Katsuki shrugged.

“They were too badass to throw away,”

“Kacchan-” tears welled up in Izuku’s eyes again, “it’s perfect. You big softie.”

“Tch. I’m not the one crying,” Katsuki wiped the tears as they rolled down his cheeks.

Izuku laughed again.

“But you know I’m right. My turn now?”

Izuku didn't wait for his response, clambering over the sea of boxes for the present without putting his furry new friend down.

“Here!”

It was surprisingly heavy, and topped with a comically large bow.

“Shit, Deku, you put bricks in here?”

“Just open it, Kacchan,” Izuku watched him with excitement in his eyes.

Katsuki ripped the package open to reveal a thick, leather bound scrapbook, with Dynamight’s signature X on the front. The inside cover read, in handwriting Katsuki immediately recognized as Izuku’s,“The Legacy of Dynamight.”

His eyes widened as he flipped through the book of memories.

There were journal articles of him in action. Newspaper headings; “Pro Hero Dynamight makes his big debut!” and “Pro hero Dynamight saves Musutafu Children’s Hospital!

Then came the letters glued to the parchment paper, comprising the majority of the book. Katsuki’s mouth fell open as he read words, handwritten, that he’d never seen before.

There were letters from citizens that had watched him take down terrifying enemies, praising him for his good deeds. Letters from people he’d saved, grateful for the chance to see their families again.

Letters from sick children he’d visited in the hospital telling him how awesome he was, several thanking him for giving them the encouragement to keep fighting.

And finally, there were multiple pages filled with artwork. Most were children’s doodles of Dynamight in action and Dynamight saving the day, but there were also several beautifully drawn and painted portraits.

The remaining pages were blank, waiting to be filled.

Izuku had written on the inside back cover:

This is a book of memories, of growth, of victory, and salvation.

If you are so fortunate to see this, know you are reading a testament to the strongest person this world has ever known.

The fiercest hero and most loyal partner, who always wins and always saves.

The legacy of Katsuki Bakugou, Pro Hero Dynamight.

At the bottom, Izuku had doodled several explosions and grenades, and Katsuki grinned.

“I sent a letter to the World Hero Association Journals, asking people to send in their thoughts about Pro Hero Dynamight. There were so many! Those kids were full of stories. They think you’re really cool. And we can fill the rest of it with new memories, too," Izuku said softly, smiling at him.

Katsuki tried to speak, but nothing came out. He was speechless as he stared at Izuku.

“I just want you to know how proud of you I am. How proud everyone is. You’re amazing, Kacchan," Izuku was looking at him with those big, knowing eyes, and picked up an envelope Katsuki hadn't noticed at the bottom of the box.

“Open the last one.”

It was a page full of more doodles from when they were kids, and potential hero names they’d created. At the bottom read “Dynamight” in uneven, capital letters.

“We had the same idea,” Izuku laughed.

“Deku, I-” Katsuki stuttered, still unable to find the right words.

“I know.”

Did he know? Could he possibly know how much this fucking meant? How much he meant?

They both startled as Chip dove into the pile of wrapping paper on the ground, ripping it to shreds.

“Oh-wait, come back!” Izuku reached for his bunny as she leapt from his lap to explore the wreckage, but Katsuki grabbed his chin and pulled him back.

“I love you,” Katsuki said firmly, capturing his lips in a searing kiss.

It felt like hours, but Katsuki knew it had only been minutes when Izuku pulled back.

“Kacchan,” he was breathless as Katsuki’s lips trailed down his chin, “I don’t know where she went.”

“She’s fine,”

“But-”

“She’s fine.” Katsuki growled, silencing Izuku’s burst of laughter with another kiss.

----------------------------------

“It’s fuckin’ cold, Deku, let’s just take the car,” Katsuki complained, rubbing his hands together to warm them.

“It’s not that cold, Kacchan. And look how pretty it is!” Izuku insisted.

Thin flecks of snow fell from the sky, disappearing into the fluff that already coated the neighborhood. Water dripped slowly from the tree branches as the snow began to melt in the sunlight. The air smelled of evergreen, crisp and cold enough that they could see their own breath.

“Besides, it’s not that far of a walk. Come on, we’re already running late,” Izuku hauled a bag of gifts over one arm, reaching for Katsuki’s hand with the other.

“Our house is the most badass,” Katsuki grinned, looking up at his prized statue. The giant took up half of their front yard, it's long shadow peering over their roof.

“Kacchan, that thing is an eyesore,” Izuku grimaced.

“Shut up. It’s cool as fuck as you know it."

Izuku laughed and shook his head.

“Do you think they’ll be alright without us?” Izuku worried as they walked, thinking of the animals they’d left at home.

“Who knows. Maybe the demon spawn will have eaten that fluff ball by the time we get home,” Katsuki teased.

“Kacchan! That’s not reassuring,”

“You asked,” Katsuki smirked, interlacing his fingers with Izuku’s, “they’ll be fine. They’re fucking animals. And she’s in her pen.”

----------------------------------

The walk was short, but still longer than Katsuki cared for in the cold.

“Oh, mom’s already here!” Izuku pointed to the small, blue car parked in front of the Bakugou household.

The house was huge, decked top to bottom in red and green lights that matched the trees in the yard.

“Hope the old hag hasn’t eaten her alive yet,” Katsuki mused.

“Kacchan, that’s not very nice,” Izuku playful shoved him, “we’d better not keep them waiting,”

They were greeted at the door by Inko Midoriya’s warm, smiling face.

“Merry Christmas boys!” She squealed, pulling them both in for a tight hug.

“Merry Christmas, mom,” Izuku grinned, wrapping his arms around her. Katsuki hummed, loosely returning the embrace.

It was pleasantly warm inside, and smelled of cinnamon and vanilla.

“Oh, those are so cute!” Inko exclaimed as they discarded their coats, pointing to the abhorrent sweaters Izuku had insisted they wear, much to Katsuki’s chagrin.

Katsuki groaned as Inko poked at the ridiculous pom poms on his chest.

Deku’s lucky he’s so fucking cute.

----------------------------------

Katsuki had just finished bickering with Mitsuki when he overheard Izuku and Inko talking in the next room. He paused, leaning against the wall to listen unnoticed.

“I can’t believe you kept Nibbles a secret!”

Nibbles? Where the fuck did that name come from?

“It wasn’t easy, I was so excited! But I was more than happy to help. She’s very well behaved,”

“She is,” Izuku laughed, “thank you for taking care of her, mom.”

“Of course, dear. Katsuki came to check on us almost every day.”

Katsuki flushed as the pair laughed.

“What did he think of the scrapbook?” Inko asked excitedly.

“He liked it, I think. He was quiet, which is Kacchan for “thank you."

Inko was laughing again.

“I think it was a great idea, honey, it's very thoughtful."

“I’m just...really proud of him, y’know? He’s come so far. I don’t think words are enough,” Izuku was sniffling now, “gah, I'm sorry mom, I don’t mean to be so mushy.”

“Don’t apologize. You get it from me,” Inko chuckled, the emotion clear in her voice too, “did you like your other gift?”

“I love it, it’s so perfect. Did you know about that, too?”

“He asked me if I thought you’d like it. I said yes, of course,” Inko paused, “he really loves you, honey.”

“I know. “

Katsuki flushed deeper, leaning quietly against the wall.

Did he know?

----------------------------------

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Inko cried in appreciation for the snowglobe Katsuki had picked out, and locket they’d customized with a photo of the three of them. Mitsuki and Masaru enjoyed the cheesy as fuck digital photo frame Izuku had insisted on, with less teasing from Mitsuki than Katsuki had expected.

Everyone was delighted to see All Might when he stopped by to visit in the afternoon, but Katsuki barely even noticed him. In the crowded room, all he saw was Izuku.

Izuku, who had saved him so many times, in more than one sense of the word. Izuku, who had rooted for him his whole life, the only person who had never stopped truly believing in him, who had reminded him of his true purpose.

Izuku, who had never expected more of him than he had to give, but encouraged him endlessly to reach new heights.

Izuku, who was currently asleep in his lap, wrapped in his new blanket hoodie.

Izuku.

“Can i sit with you, dear?”

Katsuki was interrupted from his reverie by Inko’s soft voice.

“Sure,” he murmured, scooting over as best he could without waking the sleeping lump.

“Thank you for the gifts, they were very thoughtful.”

“Was Deku’s idea,” Katsuki lied. Inko laughed.

“Sure."

They sat together in a calming silence for a while, watching the flames crackle in the fireplace.

Katsuki was frequently comforted by Inko’s presence. She was a beacon of light, always warm and wise. He thought she was about to speak, but she was interrupted by Izuku’s sudden snores.

“He’s loud even in his fucking sleep,” Katsuki rolled his eyes.

Inko chuckled, running a hand through her son’s hair.

“It adds to his natural charm,”

“Yeah, it’s real charming waking up to the sound of a fog horn in the middle of the night,” Katsuki grumbled, earning another musical laugh.

“You know, I don’t think I ever congratulated you on your new home,” Inko hummed.

“ S’just a house."

“Of course it is,” Inko smiled knowingly and patted his arm, “I’m very proud of you both.”

Katsuki was silent for a moment, before squeezing her hand.

“Thanks,” he whispered.

----------------------------------

It was dark when they finally bid their farewells, and considerably colder outside.

“Drive safe, mom!” Izuku waved as Katsuki helped her into her car and shut the door.

“Let’s cut through the plaza on the way home, Kacchan, I want to see the lights,"

“That’s ten fucking minutes out of the way, Deku,” Katsuki growled.

“It’s our last chance to see before it gets taken down! It’ll be fun,” Izuku pleaded, hugging Katsuki’s arm.

“Tch. You’d better fucking walk fast."

Izuku grinned in victory as they left.

“Today was a nice day. I didn’t expect All Might to actually come by, since he’s so busy. It was good to see him,” Izuku thought aloud.

“Woulda been pissed if he didn’t,” Katsuki grumbled.

“Did you invite him, too?” Izuku looked at him in surprise as he shrugged, “that’s really nice, Kacchan,” he smiled, leaning his head on Katsuki’s shoulder.

“I guess.”

They hadn’t been walking long when the light show came into view. Izuku gasped, releasing Katsuki’s arm as he stared.

Silver and gold arches stretched across the narrow street, wrapped in bright, white lights. The roofs of the buildings were covered in brightly colored stars that illuminated the sparkling snow, and the lamp posts were decorated like candy canes. A large statue of silver bells sat in the green field at the center of the plaza.

Katsuki had to admit, it wasn’t all that unpleasant to look at.

Izuku was fucking loving it. Katsuki watched as he stood under an arch, beaming in delight as he admired the view.

Does he know? Katsuki thought back on the events of the day. Does he really know?

“Kacchan, come look,” Izuku called to him.

Katsuki was still lost in thought as he approached, and Izuku paused, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“Are you o-,” Izuku startled as Katsuki’s hands came to cradle his face.

There were so many things left unsaid, things he’d wanted to say but didn’t know how. Katsuki had always been better with actions than words, and Izuku had always accepted that. He accepted and loved him as he was without a second fucking thought.

“The strongest person this world has ever known.”

Izuku made him stronger.

“The legacy of Dynamight.”

Staring into eyes that were as soft as the falling snow, Katsuki decided he knew.

“Izuku,” Katsuki murmured, looking him straight in the eyes.

Every moment had led to this.

“Kacchan?” Izuku breathed.

The legacy he cared for most was the one he’d forged with Izuku.

“Marry me.”

Izuku’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Listen, I’m- I’m not good at this sappy shit. I don’t know what to fucking say. But-” Katsuki released he didn’t realize he’d been holding as Izuku’s palm brushed his cheek, “the world is a fucking shitty place. But it’s less shitty with you. And I don’t want anyone else by my side. So marry me,” Katsuki voice softened, “Please."

It wasn’t exactly the most romantic of proposals, and there wasn’t a ring, but Izuku didn’t seem to mind.

“Okay,” he whispered. A breathtaking smile spread across his face that put all the fucking lights in the world to shame.

Katsuki met Izuku halfway, lips colliding in a passionate kiss.

The world could be ending for all Katsuki knew, and he couldn’t fucking care less.

Izuku wrapped his arms around Katsuki’s neck, murmuring I love you against his lips, over and over again as he deepened the kiss, and nothing else mattered. Nothing mattered except for this fucking moment as they melted into each other, ignoring the world around them.

Just as their tongues brushed, Izuku pulled back, resting their foreheads together.

“We should-,” Izuku breathed with swollen lips, “should we go home?”

Reluctantly, Katsuki lifted his head and nodded.

“Yeah.”

----------------------------------

It was past midnight when Katsuki woke. They had fallen asleep on the couch, Izuku curled into his side with Nibbles, with Chip resting at their feet. He watched the shadows from the fireplace dancing on the wall, the room gradually becoming dimmer as the flames died out.

Izuku stirred in his sleep, tilting his head up to look at Katsuki with a blissful smile on his face.

“Merry Christmas, Kacchan.”

Katsuki pulled him closer.

“Merry Christmas, Deku.”

----------------------------------------

A/N: thank you for reading!!!!! this is the first fic i’ve ever posted so im super nervous lmao. 

also: the italic lines are supposed to be Katsuki’s thoughts, I wasn’t sure if that was totally clear lmao

also!! big shoutout to @jekacatrina and @thatpinkbetch who helped me with the idea for kacchan’s present and also for the encouragement!!! (best parents ever)

[cybernaght]

The Rebel/叛逆者: A Review of Sorts

After being only semi-invested in the Rebel, I ended up getting so into it in the final weeks of its release, I’ve shelled out on IQIYI premium just to get the final couple of episodes a few days earlier.

That’s right kids, it’s a Review of Sorts. Unfortunately, I could not find a translation of the novella the drama is based on, so will be looking at it as a separate entity. 

Most of this post is spoiler-free, however I have dedicated a few paragraphs at the end of it to discussing the final episode, as there are a few specific things about it I wanted to mention. There is a clear spoiler warning before that part.

If you don’t want to risk it, TL;DR version of this review goes something like this: Rebel is very decent, and positively one of the best things that I have seen to come out of China since I’ve jumped into that particular rabbit hole. It’s pretty well written, it’s very beautifully dressed and shot, and the cast is killing it. I thought it dropped the ball a little in post production, and I did not always love the pacing. Other than that, it’s incredibly decent, and well worth watching, unless communist propaganda really irks you, in which case stay very well away. 

I have been having many conversations with @supernovasimplicity​ all the way through watching this drama, so there are likely to be some thoughts here that are influenced by those. 

The story centers around Lin Nansheng, a struggling servicemen in the Guomingdang party. He has a great analytical mind, and absolutely no emotional capacity for his job. He has trouble handling violence, he is impulsive, he cannot speak to his superiors without bursting into tears, and has nothing even remotely resembling a poker face. And that is what makes this drama as enjoyable as it is. 

I don’t think Lin Nansheng’s journey would have been nearly as exciting had he started it from a place of competence. He botches up everything he touches because his big brain switches off the moment his emotions kick in. And so, when you see him grow in confidence, learn to control himself, learn to fake his smiles and compliments, you can’t help but feel a strange sense of pride. It also makes Lin Nansheng very likeable as a character for reasons other than Zhu Yilong’s ability to look like a bush baby.

It did take me a while to feel fully engaged with his performance - not because there is anything lacking in it, but just because it’s hard to be truly surprised by his choices after the exposure I have given myself to his work. That said, at about a half-way point I got charmed by him anyway, and there were quite a few scenes that were truly mesmerising. There were scenes where he broke out of the familiar mould of big unguarded eyes and fluttering wet eyelashes, and tried something that was not pretty: every time to a great success. I am hoping to see more of that in his future work. 

I really wanted to like the female lead, Zhu Yizhen, but unfortunately both the way she was written and the way she was performed by Tong Yao left me somewhat cold. It did not help of course that the screenplay ended up sidelining her at every turn, leaving her with very little personal agency. She was set up so interestingly, but in the end her sole purpose became being someone for Lin Nansheng to pine over. It is particularly curious from a perspective of meta storytelling: seeing how this is all centered around superiority of communism, which as a whole was, arguably, ahead of its time in the matters of binary gender equality.

The ensemble cast of the drama is stunning. Wang Yang came very close to  stealing the show at several points as Chen Moqun, somehow managing to make his rather unlikeable character interesting. I can say the same thing about Zhu Zhu who absolutely shined as Lin Xinjie, showing an incredible range and imagination in her performance.

The overarching story of the show is engaging, with some incredibly suspenseful elements; every narrative arc including a nice progression through it. As spy thrillers go, it was fairly well plotted. You could if you go looking for a few things that did not pay off in a satisfying way (notably, the Chekhov’s cyanide capsule), but you overall the story really was well told for the most of it. 

I did, however, feel like the pacing started to fall apart in the last quarter of the drama. Last episode in particular really did feel rushed, not just due to its pace, but also in a way it failed to pay off the final mission in any visible way. There will be more on that in the spoiler section of this post.

Important to note that The Rebel is a show made in Communist China in the year 2021. It does not ideologically side-step from the path that was laid out for it by that fact. Which is to say, it is, undeniably, filled with propaganda. Communists are the good guys, and if you think a good guy (or gal) is not a communist, they probably secretly are. With one exception of a friendly character who is not a communist, and whose fate we actually never find out. Curious, that. 

The Rebel is not a kind of a show where censorship-appeasing scenes are shoehorned in. It’s a kind of a show in which the main theme is Sacrifice For the Party.

Aside from the being the moral vector of the show, Mao’s gentle teachings explicitly help get Ling Nansheng out of prolonged depression following his injury, and almost annoyingly, this sat incredibly well with the character, as he was written. Lin Nansheng is conceived as this naive idealist who wants to be on the front line, who needs validation and support of others. His - and I can’t believe I’m saying this - his being disillusioned in his beliefs and choosing to join a party which includes people whom he likes and trusts makes sense. Him finding this one thing that gives him hope and letting it propel him into gaining confidence and competence makes sense. 

In many ways, the Rebel is a story of Lin Nansheng’s failure to become an antagonist within the world of the drama.

I have honestly spent this past couple of weeks pondering whether being well written makes political propaganda better or worse, whether the subtlety of it makes it more or less palatable, whether it’s enough, as a viewer, to be aware of it to shrug it off. Ultimately, this is not something I could or should make moral judgements on, but I do believe that it’s possible to acknowledge the fact that propaganda exists in the drama, and still appreciate it for a good piece of television that it is. 

That said, I am very well aware that me being kind of okay with it stems entirely from my own removal from the culture this is made in, and I am, perhaps, lucky to even have a choice as to whether I want to engage with a product which is, undoubtably, here to dress political ideology in fancy clothes.

I have, on the other hand, also seen many things in Russian media of the “Annexation of Crimea is Good Actually” variety and those make me feel very unwell, so feeling somewhat at ease with blatant political propaganda in Chinese media makes me the biggest hypocrite.

But, I digress.

Before we go into some specific plot-related things, I would like to mention that the Rebel has this weird dichotomy in which the production is sublime, and the post-production… not so much. The show very well shot. Every element of it sits perfectly together, not a single prop out of place, not a single extra underdressed, not a page of script not put to good use. It’s lit to perfection. It’s scored beautifully. So much of this show is just stunning.

And then… there is post-production. 

This is not even about bad CGI (and the CGI is, indeed, bad), it’s just that most of post-production as a whole feels rushed.

Starting with surprisingly imperfect editing, which at times just fails to make the scene flow together. The final line of dialogue would be spoken within a scene, and it would fade to black instantly without a single breath to indicate a full stop. A montage sequence would be created, but every shot within it condensed to a second, making it feel incredibly fast-paced when the effect should be the opposite. There would be a cut away from a speaking character and to the same speaking character from a slightly different angle, making it dynamic without any reason to do so. There are a couple of truly startling jump-cuts.

I did not speed this gif up. This is part of a romantic montage, edited like it’s a goddamn action sequence.

And of course dear old friend slowing down footage shot at 24FPS. Please don’t do this. You think no one notices - but we do.

There are other tell-tale signs of production rushing to the finish line: occasional, but very noticeable ADR glitches, very sloppy job done at sound mixing, which contribute to parts of the show feeling ever so slightly off.

It’s not unforgivable, but it does make me wish the same amount of care and efforts that went into shooting this drama would also go into it after it was all in the can. 

Oh, and just because if you know me you know I have a professional fixation on fights, and I am happy to say most action scenes are toe-curlingly delightful. Hot damn those fights are good. I am absolutely in love with the shot below, for example. Placing an actor behind a piece of set so he can exchange places with the stunt double during a one shot is such an old trick, but the execution, timing and camerawork are just... flawless. This is what perfection looks like.

Now we got all that out of the way...

SPOILERS FOR THE SERIES FINALE BELOW

Here’s the thing. I wanted to love the ending and I found that I could not.

The final mission was presented as important, and honestly the scene in which Zhu Yizhen is sending the vital message out as Lin Nansheng holds his ground in hand to hand fight is incredibly dynamic. Party, this is due to the fight itself being incredibly well choreographed, yes, but it’s also where it sits within the narrative, how high the stakes are for everything surrounding it. 

But then, the tension all but bleeds out. The Important Message is sent, the fight is won, and we are treated to ten minutes of a very slow car chase, problem of which is not even its speed as much as its placing within the story. As in, by this point both of those operatives have lost their cover, and completed their Very Important Mission. It would be very sad if they died, but their survival does not technically contribute to their cause. Moreover, Zhu Yizhen getting mortally injured in order to protect Lin Nansheng as part of her mission read a little empty when the mission is technically over. 

While I personally found Lin Nansheng slow recuperation and his low key ending enjoyable, I think I would have preferred to have seen a more tangible pay-off to all the sacrifices made in the name of “bright communist future”, just a little more justification for every moment of death and despair we witnessed. I would have certainly at the very least preferred to see Wang Shi’an’s death on screen. Considering how many likeable characters martyred themselves on screen, denying us the death of the one antagonist just seemed cruel. 

I really did love the ambiguity of the final few scenes however, if we consider the children choir at the end a fantasy. The idea that Lin Nansheng will live out his life in this hope that Zhu Yizhen is still alive, imagining her just outside of his field of vision, his only joy being in this fantasy of her… now, that is incredibly strong. I equally like the idea of rest being promised to him at the end of his journey, and said rest being painful, and slow and unwelcome.

But it felt like as they chose not to to lean into the “sweet” part of the bitter-sweet tone of the ending and we’re unable not commit to the “bitter” part either, so it lands with a splat which is somewhat lacklustre. 

---

This concludes my thoughts on the Rebel. 

I am more or less out of Zhu Yilong’s filmography to watch, which is probably a good thing at this point. I have just emerged out of several back to back work projects - literally today - and will hopefully once more have time for things I grew to enjoy doing during the lockdown. 

Those things, if you have not guessed, include watching Chinese television and writing things about Chinese television. 

[jentrevellan]

I'm so happy to finally share my fic for @dasmutquisition! I had so much fun with this one, it's unreal. I hope you enjoyed @sumiIong

Rating: Explicit

Category: F/M

Fandoms: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins

Relationship: Alistair/Female Cousland (Dragon Age)

Characters: Alistair (Dragon Age), Female Cousland (Dragon Age), Teagan Guerrin

Additional Tags: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Banter, Cuddling & Snuggling, Happy Ending, Making Love, trapped together (sort of), strong woman, anxious Alistair, generic Cousland, King Alistair and Queen Cousland, newlyweds, Morning Sex, D in the V, Porn With Plot, Dorks in Love

Language: English

Collections: Nobody Expects the Dragon Age Smutquisition

Summary: Alistair and the Warden spend the first night not only as husband and wife but as King and Queen.

Notes: Thank you @curiousthimble for being my beta!

Read on Ao3

Doin' the Fondue

The great hall in Denerim Castle was loud and filled to the rafters with people. Nobles, elves, dwarves and peasants alike were squeezed in, all clamouring to see the newly married couple. Up on the dais, overlooking the crowd that was slowly getting rowdier and rowdier with the ale and wine that continued to flow, Alistair - now King Alistair Theirin of Ferelden - slouched in his throne and took a gulp of wine.

He was terrified.

Oh, the ceremony had been a delight, and he had adored proclaiming his love in front of the Maker and the witnesses in the Chantry. But as soon as he had stepped into the hall for their wedding feast, his gut started churning. Because he knew what must come next after the merriment had ended.

He glanced at his wife beside him. His wife! Despite his anxiety, he couldn’t help but grin like a fool at the thought of his Grey Warden companion, Lady Cousland, now being his wife. It didn’t seem wholly real. Indeed, most of his life the past year hadn’t seemed real. So much had changed, and now he was married.

Alistair took another sip of wine from his goblet and his new wife glanced at him, a small frown on her brow. She already knows me so well, he thought. No one else would be able to tell that anything was amiss, but she had always seen straight through him and knew when even the smallest thing was bothering him. One of the many traits he loved about her. Although it did mean that it was impossible to keep any sort of secret from her. Even the good kind of secrets.

As he picked at his food, his new wife and Queen accepted many gracious gifts from guests. All curtsied or bowed and she was most eloquent in her response. Truly, she was more prepared for this life as a monarch than him. Her noble upbringing was a far cry from how he was raised. But wherever his trepidation lay about ruling, he knew that with this woman beside him as his Queen, that he could do anything.

She laughed heartily at a joke Teagan was telling her, and he watched as she wiped away a tear. Alistair glowered at his uncle and reached out for his wife’s hand. She turned to him, a wide smile on her face, her cheeks flushed and her lips rosy from the wine.

“Everything alright?” she asked.

He nodded his head to Teagan. “Just wondering what was so funny…?”

She blushed prettily, and a jealous hand gripped his gut. He would not easily forget his uncle’s flirtations when he had first met them in Redcliffe, and ever since, a fit of strange jealousy and need to claim her as he always came about when he was in the presence of both her and Tegan.

Waving a jewelled hand, she shook her head. “It was nothing. Rather crude, actually, so I told him off for lowering the tone of our conversation at our wedding feast,” she replied, taking a sip of wine. “Now what’s the matter with you?”

“Me?” he repeated. “Nothing. Nothing is the matter with me at all. Absolutely nought.”

“Alistair,” she said seriously, leaning in close. Her tone made him want to listen, but her golden gown with its tight bodice had pressed her breasts pleasantly together and were well within his eye line that he couldn’t help but glance down. A treacherous blaze of desire coursed through him, and with her puckered lips, her brow furrowed in concern, he wanted nothing more than to crush her to him and -

A chill went through him. He wanted her, oh yes, most desperately, but Tegan caught his eye and winked, and a shudder of repulsion went through him as he turned his head to see half of the court watching their interaction. He pulled away from his wife abruptly and reached for his goblet of wine, again and took a huge mouthful.

Ever the gracious lady, his wife smiled faintly and pretended that nothing had happened. But the look she quietly gave him as he peered at her over the rim of his goblet made his gut clench with guilt. There was a flash of hurt in her eyes, and he felt rotten about being the cause.

The dinner continued and as the servants were generous with topping up his wine, Alistair kept emptying his goblet. His wife, on the other hand, declined and stuck to watery lemonade and with dread, he realised that she was not drinking the same as him because it was expected that she needed to stay sober to conceive.

It was like a weight was pressing down on his chest, and he struggled to breathe, and it was getting worse as the evening wore on. Soon he stopped eating and drinking and just watched everybody that approached the dais to offer their congratulations or present gifts to the newlyweds. One item that was given to the new Queen was a selection of herbs which, as the kindly elderly noble had explained “would help the womb quicken”. Alistair had almost retched at her words, and instead began a small coughing fit, which required his wife to smack him firmly on the back a few times harder than she would’ve done normally.

At one point, a small child approached, dressed in a simple cotton tunic, as white as a cloud. Her hair was braided down her back and entwined with flowers. She stood before the queen who rose from her throne and leant over the table to adjust a flower in the girl’s hair. Alistair watched as his wife’s face lit up with warmth as she listened and spoke to the child. He wanted to give that to her. But… but…

“Let us bed them!” Tegan suddenly announced, and there was a scramble as the court got to their feet hurriedly, to be one of the select few to follow them to their chambers. The women reached the queen and she shot Alistair one swift look of alarm before resigning herself to their insistent tugs as they all but pushed her out of the room. Alistair followed with a group of noblemen, including his uncle.

“I bet you’re looking forward to this, m'boy,” Tegan grinned, falling into step beside Alistair, as they made their way through the halls of the castle.

“I don't know what you mean,” he replied flatly, his face feeling warm not just from the wine.

Tegan clapped him on the back. “You are one lucky man, my boy,” he said with a sigh, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ve never seen you so quiet in all the time I’ve known you. Your mind has been elsewhere this evening - and I’m not the only one to notice.”

Dread tugged at him as he climbed the stairs. “Yes, you’re right and I’m sorry, but-”

“Sorry!” Tegan repeated with a snort. “You’ve no need to be sorry. Most men are as quiet as a mouse in anticipation of their wedding night. And one can’t certainly blame you: your wife is simply lovely.”

“Yes, thank you, Tegan,” Alistair ground out, shrugging his shoulder lose of his grip. But rather than be offended, the man laughed and Alistair clenched his fists. Never before had he been so tempted to knock his uncle around the head.

They arrived at his chamber door and inside more nobles awaited eagerly. The king’s bed had been arranged neatly, but there was no expectation for him to sleep there tonight. Instead, he eyed the connecting door where he knew his wife would be waiting for him, surrounded by the noblewomen.

“Are you going to leave?” he asked, looking around the room, but the men just laughed, and chatted, some making obscene gestures. He grimaced, hating the sheer manliness in the room. His manservant came forward to help him undress from his finery and removed his crown. Once he had been disrobed save for his smalls, he threw on his white cotton nightshirt and ran his hands through his hair, wiping the sweat from his brow.

There was a faint knock at the connecting door, and one of the servants hurried forward and exchanged whispers with the servant on the other side. Alistair paced anxiously and took a very keen interest in a loose thread on the sleeve of his shirt. The men around him were talking about absolute filth, and he squeezed his eye tight shut, in the vain hope that his ears would squeeze shut too.

Finally, the connecting door swung open and the servant stood aside. Alistair was rooted to the spot, fear coursing through him. Are these people… going to watch ? He thought with horror.

He was quite content with where he was until Tegan elbowed him in the ribs. “Nervous?” he said with a wink.

“Yes. No! I mean, no !” he said hurriedly, his face burning.

“There’s nothing to be scared about. She’s going to be a wonderful wife to you in so many ways…”

“Shut up,” Alistair groaned, rubbing his hand down his face. Honestly, he was this close to hurling Tegan out the window.

But before he could entertain that thought further, the men in his room were pressing him through the door and - oh Maker no - were also following him. He entered the queen's bed-chamber to find a gaggle of ladies with rosy cheeks flutter their lashes and lick their lips seductively at the men. But Alistair was anything but aroused when he finally turned to the large, four-poster bed, to see his wife and queen.

She was a perfect painting of innocence and virginity in crisp white sheets with a matching white nightdress. Her hair had been unbound and combed neatly and she sat as still as a statue, her back and posture absolutely perfect for a queen. The covers were pulled up to her lap, and her hands rested delicately entwined: her sparkling wedding ring the only jewellery that remained.

He refused to meet her eyes as he slowly walked around to the other side of the bed. He pulled the covers down amidst the chatting of the court and when he finally sat beside her, a good arms-length away from her, the court finally - finally - turned to leave. Several clapped, the women exchanged knowing looks with the queen, who smiled politely in return, and the men, now incredibly drunk, ambled from the room, wishing Alastair luck and reminding him of how lucky he was.

Finally, blessedly, the last person left the room and closed the door with a gentle click .

☆☆☆☆☆

To the new queen’s dismay, the first thing her new husband did as soon as the door had shut, was leap out of the bed as if he had been scalded. She frowned as he strode towards the door, and for an awful moment, she thought he was going to leave. But no: he reached to a small side table and found a key and locked the big oak door to her chambers, followed by locking the conjoining door from the king’s bedroom.

Still not saying anything, Alistar strode around the room, pulling open curtains and wardrobes, trunks and cabinets.

“What in the world are you doing?” she finally asked, her patience running thin. The man had barely spoken to her since their vows in the Chantry in the morning, and now he was examining every nook and cranny of her chambers?

He paused by her bookshelf and flicked her a glance over his shoulder. “Checking,” he replied, before shifting a few books.

“Whatever for?”

He sighed in exasperation. “To make sure that we are alone! Andraste’s arse, I thought they were going to stay at one point and watch to make sure we… we… erm…” he coughed and busied himself by peering under a chaise lounge.

She got out of bed and dropped to her hands and knees and looked under the bed. Thankfully, there was no one there, but she had to admit that the same fear had crossed her mind. Even though she knew that wasn’t the common practice, sometimes nobility did take things a bit too literally…

“We’re safe,” she sighed, placing her hands on her hips.”There’s no spy, no peephole, no nothing but us.”

Alistair finally stopped his fidgeting and turned to her from across the room. For the first time in a long time, they were utterly alone. Normally, they would’ve fallen into each other’s arms by now, but something was stopping her, and she could tell that something was also stopping him. They stood on opposite sides of her room, the bed imposing and glaring at them, whilst the distance between them felt as vast a chasm. And that was something neither of them had experienced before.

“Everything is different now, isn’t it?” she said quietly, looking down at her hands clasped before her.

Alistair also seemed to be studying his fingernails. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

She played with the hem of her pure white night-dress and frowned. Conversation with her now-husband had never been this stilted. So she switched tactic to one he would hopefully relax with: humour.

“You know, for a good ten minutes, I honestly thought they were all going to stay and watch,” she said with a wry smile. She knew they wouldn't - being brought up as a noble lady had earnt her some education in these things - but Alistair needed not to know that. For it worked:

“Maker! You did too?” he exclaimed, letting out a bark of laughter. “I didn’t think they would, but I began to doubt myself.”

She took a step towards him. “Hence your paranoia about spies?”

He nodded. “Yes, hence the… paranoia ,” he rolled his eyes at her choice of words, but there was a smirk on his lips, which made her heart soar.

The man she knew was peeking through, so she took another step closer. “It’s an archaic tradition anyway,” she said. “I know for a fact that they do not practice it in Orlais.”

Alistair snorted. “Perhaps the only redeeming factor of the Orlesians.”

“Hmm, that and the cheese,” she smiled and finally, finally , her new husband met her eyes.

They both burst into laughter and she saw his shoulders sag. She bit her lip and placed a hand on his cheek. “We don’t have to do anything if you don't want to,” she said earnestly.

His face reddened. “But I do! I do want to! With you, that is! I just… it’s just…” he trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut as he sought out the right words.

“The pressure of it all?” she supplied.

“Yes!” he gasped, relieved. “To know that we cannot come together unless it’s for a purpose. That purpose,” he mumbled, pointing to her stomach.

He was going inside himself again, so she took his hands in hers and gave a gentle squeeze. “Think of it this way… it’s for the good of the country that you fuck me senseless any time of day and night.”

Alistair spluttered at her bluntness but she just laughed as she slipped her hands from his and moved past him. There was a small table laden with food - to help keep up their energy for their excursions, no doubt - so she helped herself to a goblet of wine and poured one for her new husband. “You’re probably one of the only men in the world who can use that excuse,” she smiled, popping a grape in her mouth.

“You…” he grinned, walking over and taking the other goblet from her hand. “You are a minx.”

She pretended to be shocked. “You’ve only just realised? And here I thought you only married me because you knew I was.”

He put an arm around her shoulder and pulled him to her, kissing the top of her head. “One of many, many many reasons,” he replied.

They stood content in silence, their thoughts elsewhere when she finally spoke again. “I meant what I said. We don’t have to do anything we’re expected to do tonight.”

He gulped but nodded. “I… I know. And I appreciate that, but please don’t think it’s because I don’t want... need you,” he said quietly, his grip on her tightening.

“It’s not like we’ve not done it before,” she said, taking another sip of wine. “Even if this gown pretends to be evidence to the contrary.”

“Yes, and we have done it, many, many times…”

“And we will many more,” she confirmed, popping another grape in her mouth, the sweetness washing over her tongue. She turned to him: “but not tonight.”

“Thank the Maker I married you,” he murmured, downing the rest of his wine.

“But I do have a wicked idea…”

He glanced at her, eyebrows raised.

“We should take all of this food and eat it… in bed.”

He laughed, so genuine and delightful that her gut warmed pleasantly. Suddenly, in one swift motion, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, his other hand grabbing the cheese board and marched over to the bed. He threw her down, and she tried to not be too aroused by the action, but her pert nipples through her night-dress gave her away. Determined to make sure Alistair was as happy as could be, she reached forward and pulled him onto the bed and instead of kissing him, grabbed a handful of cheese and squashed it into his mouth.

The King of Ferelden snorted with laughter as he tried to eat the cheese, before doing the same back at his new queen. He pecked her on the nose and rose to collect more food and wine, and soon they were sitting leaning against the headboard, a delectable spread of food between them. And they gorged.

☆☆☆☆☆

The sun peered through the lattice windows of the queen’s chamber. The light was white and bright and brought Alistair blinking out of his deep slumber, momentarily confused at his location. He looked up at the canopy above him and duly noted the olive green drapes of the Queen’s bed. He’d never slept in here and was momentarily disoriented until he remembered the day before.

In his arms, still and sound asleep, was his wife. Her hair was splayed on the pillow and tickled his nose. He couldn’t see her face, but today it felt more real: this woman who had become his friend and companion, lover and hero of Ferelden, was now his wife… his queen . He gently propped himself onto his elbow, so as not to wake her, and gazed down at her face, noting the way the sunlight accentuated her high cheekbones. This wonderful, beautiful and exquisite woman is my wife , he thought with quiet awe. His chest flipped with uncontained joy and gone was the trepidation of the night before.

He studied her face as she slept, her nostrils flaring slightly as she sighed contently in her sleep. He lay back down and pulled her close to him, tightening his grip on her, and burying his face in her neck, inhaling her intoxicatingly sweet scent. The silk nightdress was so smooth and thin, and his hands couldn’t help but wander up and down, his fingers gently brushing the material over her skin, like water. Without realising it, he found himself rutting against her arse, which was tucked up cosily to his groin. He tried to still himself, she's still asleep ! But his wandering hands could not be stopped as one slowly crept up her torso and cupped a breast. The shift was so thin, that he felt her nipple harden with the barest of touches and that’s when he realised that her hips were moving too.

He pushed himself up to an elbow again, and her eyes, dark and hooded with desire stared back at him. Her lips parted with a hitched breath and he flicked her nipple with his thumb. Moving his hand downwards, he swallowed her breathy moan as his fingers teased the hem of her smalls, mouth crashing down on hers in simple, uncontained desire.

They had not so much as kissed since they had said their wedding vows in the Chantry, he realised. And as his tongue licked her upper lip, he swore to himself that he would never leave it so long to kiss her again. Her mouth opened with a sigh and their tongues danced as he continued to rut, and she squirmed against him as his hand finally slipped into her smalls in search of her bud.

He stifled a groan as he found her hand already there, gently touching herself. His fingers joined hers whilst they moved their hips and she guided him with her hand. He slipped a digit inside of her and she gasped, squirming against his erection, straining against his smalls, and he pictured feeling her growing wetness around his cock. With impatience, he slid her nightdress up so she was exposed and he pulled his cock out and rubbed it blissfully between her cheeks. Her soft skin was as smooth as silk as he rocked his hips, gaining pleasant friction with her arse.

“More…” she whispered, as her fingers joined his, pumping inside her. And with his control waning, he obliged eagerly.

Alistair rolled her onto her back and pulled her hands over her head as he pinned her down. Her legs fell open for him, and as much as he wanted - no needed - to be inside her, Alistair knew what his lady wife needed more was to be spoiled. If it were up to him, the king would love to stay buried between his wife’s legs for the rest of his days, as her taste was so sweet. He trailed kisses down her neck, and her hips lifted up to meet his, and his resolve almost broke as her core was teased against his cock. But being a Warden had one excellent perk: incomparable stamina.

He continued down, kissing her heaving breasts as they rose and fell erratically with her breathing. Playing with one in his hand, he took her other nipple in his mouth and sucked lightly, her perfect bud hard and round in his mouth. With his hand, he squeezed her other one tight, and had her gasping: but he was nowhere near done. He let go of her breast in his mouth with a pop and glanced up at her to see her mouth open and delicious, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. He grinned and kissed her stomach, then pulled back and positioned himself on his elbows, taking in the sight of her splayed out on the bed, rosy cheeks and breathy moans all for him. He pressed his lips to her knee, then with each kiss, his stubble tickled the inside of her thigh as he moved up her legs, finally reaching that gloriously warm and wet apex in between that was just begging for him to taste.

Desire surged through him and without wasting any more time, he pulled her legs over his shoulders and licked her dripping wet folds. She cried out in pleasure as he rolled his tongue over her, and her fingers grabbed his head, nails digging into his scalp as he worked his mouth. She tasted as good as she smelt, and her hips rose up to meet his mouth, jittering as she climbed higher to her peak. He wanted to spoil her because she deserved it and more. So he reached up with one hand and squeezed a breast and flicked a nipple again, loving the way her hips bucked in response. Her nails dug deeper into his scalp and raked his chestnut hair as his other hand kneaded her arse, lifting her up so he had the best angle to eat her out.

He teased and tortured her with his mouth, and finally sucked on her clit.

“Ah...ah...Alist-ah!” she cried out, her thighs clamping around his head as she came. He tasted her orgasm on his tongue and without missing a beat, rose and positioned himself at her entrance. Her eyes flicked open to look at him as she felt him move, and a tiny smile pulled at the corner of her exquisite mouth. That was all he needed.

So tormentingly slowly, Alistair finally entered her, the warmth and wetness so indescribably perfect that he couldn’t help but let out a moan. He fit her perfectly and when sheathed completely, he paused and stared into her eyes. Her breathing was still fast from her orgasm and he captured her mouth with his, letting her taste herself. Then he rolled his hips and started to slowly make love to her, not once tearing his gaze from her face. He noticed every single expression that flickered before him as he thrust and teased: a hand on her hip and another once more on her breasts.

She wrapped her legs around him and he plunged unbelievably deeper inside of her, making them gasp and moan in unison as they moved together in a rhythm as old as time. As they moved, the pleasure and pressure mounted, but Alistair had much more control than a boy still wet behind the ears - he wanted to give her so much more before he -

“Ah!” he gasped, as she took him by surprise. She had crossed her ankles behind his back and with her strong legs, twisted so that he was forced to roll and let her sit on top of him. Incredibly, they did not lose touch, and the angle was different but just as pleasurable. She smirked down at him as she pressed her hands to his chest and began to slowly roll her hips, her breasts rising and falling beautifully as she took him. Alistair was entranced as he watched his love move quicker with a growing need and he held her hips tightly to control her pace. But she didn’t need any assistance, as she moved faster and faster, his thrusts coming up to meet hers, flesh slapping flesh. Her moans crescendoed, and the erotic sight before him of his wife move above him with a wonton need to claim her pleasure...well he could feel his control slipping. He wanted to spill himself inside of her, and see his seed drip down her legs…

“Fuck!” she cried, reaching her second orgasm, as Alistair dug his fingers into her thighs to stop himself from joining her peak of pleasure. She fell back and Alistair seized his moment to regain control and topped her again.

Fully sheathed once more, he deliberately moved slowly, as he knew that if he picked up the pace then he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. But she caught his eye and licked her lips.

“Please, Alistair,” she panted, her hands digging into his hips, urging him to move faster.

“Mmmm?” he replied, biting her earlobe and slipping out of her, making her whimper.

“What do you want?” he teased, stroking himself as she looked up at him with uncloaked desire.

“It’s more than what I want ...it’s what I need ,” she whispered, sitting up to meet her lips with his, her hand trailing down his chest and abdomen, making his muscles tense in anticipation.

They kissed delicately, fervently, noses touching, breath mingling. “And what do you need?”

She pulled away and lay back down on the bed, her legs falling open. She traced one finger down the length of her, and his eyes followed.

“Take me, my king,” she begged, touching herself in front of him.

Almost roughly, because he couldn't bear to not be in her again, he flipped her over, brought her to her knees and lined himself up to her entrance. He kissed her salty back, sleek with sweat and breathed in her ear. “As my queen commands.”

He thrusted inside, and she took all of him. She threw her head back and he grabbed her neck, pulling her up to him for a searing kiss, their tongues dancing as he thrusted fiercely, the globe of her ass bouncing against his abdomen. She moaned in his mouth as she touched herself; legs shaking as he pounded into her over and over; sweat mingling, with moans loud and needy, filling the chamber. He pumped with such animalistic need and she cried in pleasure and she gripped the bedsheets for support as he took her, unrelenting in his passion.

With a shaking arm, he reached around and touched her pearl and she cried out, her orgasm sudden and huge.

“Fill me!” she pleaded as she continued to come.

He snapped and finally, wonderfully, he reached his peak too and exploded inside of her, his vision blurred and black at the edges, as he emptied his seed inside of her - for the first time. And Maker, did it feel incredible to finish like this; in a union of bodies so perfect and natural.

Alistair, as breathless as if he had just swam the length of the Waking Sea, collapsed on top of her, laughing with joy.

“I...I love...you,” he panted, their legs entwined and he wasn't sure where his body ended and hers began.

They stayed like that for some time, and Alistair was tempted to fall asleep just like this, but she wiggled underneath him.

“Mmmm, as much as I love you inside of me,” she murmured;” you are crushing me somewhat.”

He reluctantly slipped out of her, trailing kisses all down her back and arse, making her hairs stand on end and her toes curl. He gathered her into his arms, the sheets around them a total mess, but he was loath to care as she lightly ran her fingers over him. His limbs felt like jelly, all loose and relaxed.

“Hey, Alistair?”

“Hmm?” he replied, barely opening his eyes.

“There’s some cheese leftover from last night.”

He sat up suddenly and looked over to where she pointed.

“Cheese for breakfast?” he asked.

She smiled and nodded. “Cheese for breakfast,” she confirmed.

fin

[vanderlindemangofarm]

The Van der Linde Gang - Jobs in a Modern AU

I’ve been really inspired to write about this lately and I’d love to hear your takes! These are the occupations that I think each gang member would have in a modern AU. Some were more challenging than others, but hopefully you guys can see where I’m coming from with each! 

Arthur: Film location scout. His natural eye for photography and framing makes Arthur the perfect member of a pre-production team. His no-bullshit approach to everything means he keeps to deadlines, although he’s known to go wandering off into the wilderness for unknown amounts of time. He enjoys the lone working side of his job and finding exactly the right spots that would make the film come to life. He doesn’t always like the films once they’re finished (in fact he’s often bought cinema tickets and walked out half way through, grumbling that it wasn’t worth the popcorn) but he can’t deny the excited buzz he gets every time he gets hired. In his early years as an assistant he met Bertie Mason, a nervous but talented photography intern. Despite an ill-advised hookup after a week joined at the hip they have remained close friends and still go out on shoots together. 

John: landscape gardener. John? Flowers? Yes, alright, I found it hard to believe too. But look, it’s not about the flowers, even if he does get misty-eyed at the sight of a sunflower in the early morning light. It’s about the challenge, the outdoors, and solving problems. After all the renovations he did to his house and garden (some more successful than others) John found how much satisfaction he got from digging and reshaping and planting. Don’t get me wrong, he’s often without a shirt, even in the colder months, much to the delight of some and the horror of others. He always makes friends with the household pets and is wonderful with the kids, always dropping his task to throw a frisbee around for a bit or cheekily accept an ice cold glass of lemonade from their mothers. Whenever he drives past one of his projects he feels himself glowing with pride - “I did that!”. 

Dutch: philosophy lecturer. As always, late with Starbucks. Will he actually grade your essay? Will it mysteriously disappear? Keeps you on your toes, doesn’t it? Sitting precariously on the very edge of his desk, leather jacket hanging off his shoulders and losing his balance every 15 minutes, Dr Van der Linde is nothing short of a wonder. For the love of all that is holy, do not get him started on Kant. Kant has no place here. You want to talk about your precious Kant? Get your butt down to Dr O’Driscoll’s class, he has plenty to say about Kant. Perhaps a little too fond of Socrates. Plato who? Completely illegible handwriting and definitely sleeping with several members of the faculty. But somehow his students always walk away with excellent grades. At the end of each term Dutch takes everyone out to a local bar for drinks, insists on buying tequila which no one really fancies at 11am. Claims to ride a motorcycle called The Count which no one has actually seen. Impossible to hate, and he writes everyone great references for their summer internships. 

Hosea: social worker. In a crisis, there’s no one better to knock on your door. Hosea has seen it all and he’ll see it all again, but that doesn’t stop him from treating every single case he gets with the upmost respect and care. His no-nonsense approach to his work means he gets things done, but he never sacrifices his compassion. He mostly works with teenagers and has a way of being able to connect to each individual without coming across as patronising. He’s been in the field for over two decades and is an invaluable mentor for any newcomers, always willing to share a word or two of advice or be a shoulder to cry on. 

Javier: guitar teacher and music therapist. During his worst years, Javier’s guitar was his lifeline. And he wants to help others find their lifeline, too. He works on a freelance basis, mainly going into mental health hospitals, schools and prisons. He runs workshops focusing on guitar playing, but brings other instruments (mainly percussion) to try too. He’s a gentle teacher, always with a joke in his back pocket for when you need it most. He has nicknames for everyone and remembers everything they’ve ever told him. He’s patient and never lets anyone feel bad for making a mistake. Javier also runs an after-school guitar club at the local middle school alongside playing his own music at gigs whenever he can. No, he doesn’t reply to DMs no matter how thirsty they are. 

Sadie: self-defense instructor. After surviving an attack several years ago, Sadie used her ferocity to get her qualification in self-defense to teach other women how to fight back should they need to. Her husband Jake helps out in her classes, happily allowing himself to be thrown around and slammed onto the mat as many times as required. Her students are terrified of her in the best and nicest way. Sadie also volunteers at a women’s refuge, providing emergency care and taking phone calls. 

Charles: environmental campaign manager. Charles has always been drawn to charities and started doing voluntary work for Greenpeace when he was at university, securing an internship with them in Canada which led to a full time job. Whilst Charles mainly hosts meetings and organises events, he also works closely with elementary schools and runs workshops with outdoor activities, crafts and music. Last week they made bird feeders! It was awesome. He’s also a keen activist and regularly meets up with Javier to go to protests and community events, most recently for BLM. 

Micah: motorcycle mechanic. Micah is massively invested in motorcycle culture and treats his beloved bike better than his own mother, if he still spoke to her. Although he pretends not to care, fixing bikes is his greatest passion and almost looks...happy when he’s doing it? Maybe? He likes knowing more than the people who stop by his shop and makes sure they know it. Occasionally he leaves his number on a scrap of paper inside women’s handbags when they’re not looking but for some reason none of them call. Like it or not, he’s incredibly skilled and will have your motorcycle singing a tune if that’s what you want. Euphemism? Of course not. 

Abigail: nurse. She was so shy when she realised she wanted to pursue nursing - would people laugh at her? Was she too impatient, too nagging, too shrill? Her dyslexia always put her off going into further education and she was always discouraged by her parents. But with lots of encouragement from Hosea (who helped her to fill out her applications and other forms) and her friends, Abigail went to university in her 30′s to get her degree. She graduated top of her class and now works full time in her local hospital, based mostly in the emergency room. From drunken brawlers to tearful children and grumpy old men with lumbago, Abigail has learnt to keep her cool and to have faith in her own ability. 

Molly: holistic therapist and masseuse. It took years to get that bastard of a philosopher out of her head (and out of her bed - damn those happy hour drinks “for old times’ sake”), but she’s finally free. Molly radiates a kindness that few took to the time to see, and she wanted to take strength from her past struggles to help others who may need someone to listen, just as she did. Molly took a bunch of online courses in various holistic therapies, including aromatherapy and massage, as this was something she had always been interested in. She runs a tiny clinic on a quiet street, the rooms filled with sunshine and the scent of geraniums. She also has a quite popular ASMR YouTube channel, Emerald Eyes ASMR, which she shyly admits just reached 500k subscribers. Her most popular video, ‘Irish Girl Helps You Fall Asleep (soft spoken, tapping, mouth sounds)’ just reached over a million hits. 

Kieran: veterinarian specialising in equine care. Much like Abigail, Kieran didn’t like the idea of going back into education. He’d had a rough time of it as a teenager, dropping out of high school early and working a string of menial jobs for the next decade. They paid his rent, but he still felt poor. His favourite job, however, was working at a stable. The horses made him feel calm and he found that he could read them better than most people. He went to the library and read as much as he could about them. From there, he got himself an apprenticeship which paved the way for him to earn his degree in veterinary science. He smiled so hard in his graduation photo his eyes disappeared into his cheeks. He travels all over the local countryside, visiting farms and ranches to care for the horses. His confidence picked up after the first few blunders, and little by little he’s saving up to buy his own ranch one day. 

Lenny: political science student. You know that kid who always looks amazing, even in 9am lectures? Yeah, that’s not Lenny, but he’s sat just behind. See him? Yep, the one rubbing sleep from his eyes as he pushes through the effects of another all-nighter. It’s not due to procrastination, but from perfectionism. He spends hour agonising over references, appendixes and even titles. One time he was so tired he signed his work “Ynnel”. He’s completely in love with his course and relishes every class he takes. Oh, he’s taking Dutch’s ‘History of Western Philosophy’ module by the way. Sitting in the front row, middle seat, directly in front of Dutch, his eyes glinting wickedly. Poor Dutch. Lenny has a counterpoint for absolutely everything and can barely stifle his laughter as Dutch gets more and more flustered. He’s been dating Jenny Kirk, an English Lit student, for the past few months and it’s going well. So well in fact, that he might stop hiding his Doctor Who merchandise every time she comes to his dorm room. 

Tilly: business student. Tilly started university at the same time as Lenny and they still always go to the library together, rolling their eyes at each other over their morning peppermint lattes. Tilly is at the forefront of any and all on-campus activism. Think of Sam from Dear White People - that’s our Tilly. She wears her Ravenclaw scarf all autumn and winter long and posts scathing Instagram stories about the cafeteria food. But she’s powerfully kind and very ambitious, taking on a part time job tutoring kids with dyslexia in their reading and writing. 

Susan: midwife. Think having a baby is scary? Try crossing Nurse Grimshaw. She’s here now, and that baby is coming out of you one way or another. She’ll hold your hand through thick and thin but if you dare say “I can’t do it” one more time she’ll unleash hell. Susan will make sure everyone has a job to do. Partner just standing there like a lemon? Not on her watch. She’s harsh but kind to her trainees and will always offer a cup of coffee and a shoulder to cry on, but there’s a time and place for slacking and it’s not on her labour ward. 

Trelawny: talent agent. Our Josiah is cunning, infuriatingly charismatic and with an eye for the best of the best - what else could he do so effortlessly? He’ll wrangle you a 10 second role as a latrine cleaner in a non-profit film and he’ll still make you feel like the next DiCaprio. You’re a diamond, don’t you know? Of course you could nab Elphaba, we’ll worry about the singing later. How do you feel about cat food commercials? No no, it’s not pornography, it really is cat food this time - he double checked. On top of this, he knows everyone in the business. No, really. He can’t move 3 feet down Broadway without someone booming his name. The tone of said boom depends, of course, but who hasn’t been caught with his bottom out in that director’s wife’s en-suite? 

Sean: outdoor activity centre instructor. You mean you can actually get paid to swim in lakes, ride ziplines through the forest and eat roasted marshmallows?! Sean couldn’t believe his ears. But it was true, and he’s living his best life. He may be on his penultimate warning for unruly behaviour, but he knows he could never really get fired. How could they? Everyone loves him. And to his credit, he’s a fantastic instructor, especially with kids. Everything from canoeing to caving, wild swimming to climbing, Sean has mastered it all and he always makes it fun. No one is allowed to feel left out or silly for not being able to do something. Sean has a way of making everyone feel included, even if you can only make it up the first few rungs of the ladder. Hey, that’s still off the ground! He once knew this feller Bill who cried because a moth flew into his face. You’re doing fine. 

Mary-Beth: librarian and YA author. Sweet Mary-Beth, how could she be anywhere else but surrounded by books? She adores her job at her small, local library and is always looking for ways to make it even better. She often gets tangled up in the stories she reads whilst organising shelves, but it’s quiet enough most days that she’s rarely caught. She loves helping people find their books or recommending her favourites. She also runs the toddler storytime groups and a writing club for older kids. Of course, she’s also writing her own books. The first of her ‘Valentine Mysteries’ books made a modest profit and she’s excited to write more about the adventures of Leslie Dupont. 

Karen: actress. Realising that she had a knack for accents and even after an especially successful high school lead role as Roxy Hart, Karen didn’t really acknowledge her would-be passion for acting for a long time. But she used her talents to get herself and her friends into X-rated films, dive bars and successfully pull off dozens of prank calls. It wasn’t until one of her friends was going to an open-call audition for a short film and wanted someone to go with her that Karen had her epithany. She was cast on the spot, much to the dismay of her friend. Since then, she’s been in a handful of arthouse films, a commercial here and there, and recently enjoyed a short run as Hermia in A Midsummer Night’s Dream at a small theatre downtown. Does she want fame and fortune? Honestly, she hasn’t really thought about it. Right now, she’s just enjoying the ride. And the phone numbers left for her at front of house from many admirers. 

Strauss: financial loan adviser. Oh boy, perhaps you saw this one coming. Then again, maybe not. Old Leopold isn’t quite the two-pronged-tongued eldritch horror people often mistake him for. In fact, he actually advises people against loan sharks. He had his fair share of debts y’see and he genuinely doesn’t want anyone else to go through the same thing. He’s not exactly sweet and cuddly, but he might let you have a free pen if you call by his office. I mean, technically they’re not free but...never mind, just take it. 

Bill: plumber. It was purely accidental that Bill bashed his way into his career. No, really. His sink was blocked and after an hour of poking and prodding the pipes he started hitting the poor thing with a spanner out of pure frustration, cursing all the way. To his shock, it worked, and he suddenly had running water again. What shocked him more is that he realised he wanted to know how. So, he bought a book. And he read the book. And one thing led to another, and now he’s the proud owner of Williamson Plumbing Inc. The money is very good, but for Bill that’s not it. You have to understand that for him, it’s the act itself of fixing something that brings Bill immense satisfaction. And Bill isn’t used to knowing more about something - anything - than those around him. For the first time perhaps in his life, he can sit down, solve a problem, and know that he’s done a good job. 

Swanson: AA group leader. After getting completely sober almost a decade ago and staying that way, Orville wanted to give something back to the people who had helped him out so greatly. Becoming a volunteer to help those who were trapped where he was seemed like the only path, and it felt so right. Orville is there in meetings, making coffee, handing out donuts and training new volunteers. If anyone wants to talk about their faith he’s all ears, but he never pushes it as a cure-all in any situation. Orville’s sobriety has also meant that he’s learnt to make the most phenomenal mocktails. 

Pearson: grocery shop manager and cooking teacher. Simon has his small grocery shop on the edge of town which has a wide range of regular customers. But he wanted to do more, so he set up a small class to teach fellow veterans how to cook. His wife helps out, and they grow the ingredients together in their garden and down at the allotment. It’s just an therapeutic for him as it is for his students, as he’s only just realising how much he wants to talk about his time in the navy. 

Uncle: unknown. For the longest time, everyone thought Uncle worked at one of the worst dive bars in town, as whenever they stumbled in for a nightcap he was there, behind the bar, happy as a pig in shit. Turns out that he just started going there one night and no one could get him to leave. And so every evening he’ll appear like a phantom, sit himself in the half-broken chair behind the bar (clearly labelled “not for customer use”), order the cheapest beer on the menu and sit there until midnight. No one can understand how he gets the means to live as he ragingly denies receiving any government handouts despite his lumbago. Claims to be a veteran but hasn’t fought in any wars anyone has heard of. 

[sirowsky]

The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group.

(Slow burn)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language, very near miscarriage.

Link to Masterlist

Comment: I’m sorry that it’s been a little dry lately, I haven’t been in the best groove for writing. But I swear this will be the last chapter centred around the med-section for a good long while. We’re going to war from here on out, people!

To those of you who have stuck with this story all this way - I cannot thank you enough!! I LOVE YOU!!! 

Chapter 33

  “That kid you hurled at the wall? Why would he be working with Prince?”

  “He was completely unbothered with what I’d done to him. I mean, he came out of it fine, but he did die for a moment, you’d think he be a little scared. Young people think of themselves as invincible and I figured he just didn’t get how serious it was. But maybe, he saw me being able to do that as something to aspire to? Maybe the awe I saw in his eyes was ambition. Maybe he wants to be a super, and wants it so much that he doesn’t care if some people get hurt along the way.”

  You were back in Marcus’ office, and he was sitting in one of the sofas while you were pacing, trying to sort out what you’d learned, with an uneasy feeling in your gut.

  “Querida, please stop moving, I’m getting nervous just looking at you.”

  “Then stop looking at me.”

  “Like that’s ever gonna happen.”

  You threw him a smile, but it contorted into a grimace when a sudden and very sharp pain in your lower abdomen forced you to double over.

  “Hermosa! What is it?”

  Marcus was on his feet and next to you in no time at all, catching you from hitting the floor as the pain intensified to the point where your legs gave out and started shaking. Your back was throbbing and your whole pelvis felt like it was being burnt from the inside. It was so intense that you couldn’t breathe normally, only suck in shallow gasps in between volleys of pain. Your stomach turned and you threw your head to the side not to vomit all over Marcus.

  “Talk to me, querida!”

  “Medical… baby…”

  It was all you could push out of your mouth through the gasps and kecks, and the overwhelming pain. It was worse than anything you’d ever felt before.

  You were only partially aware of being scooped up and carried away, but the rocking motion sent fresh arrows laced with acid shooting through you and you screamed in absolute agony.

  At some point you became aware of other hands on your skin, gloved and practised and efficient. And the light in the ceiling changed, to accommodate the need for excellent visibility for the medical staff. You knew that light a little too well, but it also gave you a small sense of comfort, knowing you were in the hands of people that could help you.

  You heard someone say that they needed to sedate you, or they wouldn’t be able to examine you, and you heard Marcus reply something, but he was too far away, and your own screaming was drowning him out. You wanted to reach for him, to hold him close and take comfort in his warmth and mere presence, but your arms were cramped around your abdomen, trying desperately to protect the little life in there.

  Then he was suddenly kissing your cheek, whispering that he’d be there, and that everything would be okay, but that they had to put you to sleep to protect you from the pain. For some reason, that made your powers flare, and a shockwave burst out of you, sending all of them, including Marcus, hurling across the room and into the surrounding walls.

  The staff were unfazed, quickly scrambling to their feet and returning to the task at hand, and only seconds later, you began to feel the heaviness of drug-induced sleep crash over you.

  As the pain lessened, the tears that had relentlessly filled and spilled from your eyes, completely blocking your view, finally calmed and you turned your head towards where you’d last heard Marcus.

  You saw him coming towards you, looking so scared, and you wanted to touch him. But then the drugs overpowered you, and you drooped away into darkness.

  “It’s okay, mi amor. You’re both okay.”

  When you came to, the first thing you were aware of was that Marcus was lying next to you on the bed, cradling you to him. His breathing was calm and even, but he was awake.

  As the drugs wore off more, you became more lucid, and the memories flooded your mind like a tidal-wave.

  Your hands reflexively found your abdomen, and tried in vain to feel if the baby was still there, from the outside.

  His voice and words washed over you and you could finally breathe again. The tears started up again with the relief, and he kissed your forehead and held you tighter while his hand joined both of yours, trying to reassure yourselves that it really was there and really was fine, even though you couldn’t feel it.

  “What happened?”

  He hesitated, and his voice was repeatedly plagued by tremors as he explained.

  “Your pills… Someone messed with them, to try and make you miscarry.”

  “I took two of them…”

  The sentence echoed through your mind over and over, awakening that beast of maternal instinct inside you, forcing the sadness aside to make way for anger, with the realisation that someone within these walls was capable of something so unimaginably cruel.

  But you were also heartbroken at your own failure to realise the risks of trusting anything given to you that had been made inside this building, right now.

  “And if it had been anyone but you, the baby wouldn’t have made it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You can’t heal yourself, and yet you somehow found a way to turn your ability inwards, to heal the baby, to take back the damage as it was being done by the chemicals. You saved our child, even though it shouldn’t have been possible and even though you were sedated.”

  He sighed and slightly shook his head.

  “I will never be able to express how much I love the bear that lives inside you and makes you the strongest person on this planet.”

  “Well… since I’m never taking another one of those pills again, I guess you’ll get to hear her a lot more in the future.”

  Despite the gravity of the situation, he laughed at that. He needed the positivity more than anything in that moment.

  “Good. I really have missed her.”

  You gave him a minute to just be in that moment of happiness, before bringing him back to all the severity that would accompany the immediate future.

  “Where’s Jack Daven?”

  “They’re looking for him now.”

  “If he had anything to do with this…”

  “I know. I hear you.”

  “I’ve never felt pain like that. It was like it was… shattering my bones and pouring acid into them.”

  “I’ve seen you in pain before, and this was different. The way you screamed… I’ll be able to hear that inside my head for as long as I live.”

  “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

  “This has gone too far, hermosa. It needs to stop, we can’t keep being in this situation where the fucking med-section is more home to us than anything else.”

  “I know. Hey, did you ever get around to calling that realtor?”

  “Really? That’s what you wanna talk about right now?”

  “I need to talk about something to keep my mind off of how stupid I feel.”

  “Why the hell would you feel stupid?”

  “I should have known not to trust anyone, including the people who make those fucking pills. It never even occurred to me that someone could use them to hurt me. A dozen people have access to them during production, it wouldn’t have been that hard to fiddle with a batch. You were right, I haven’t been careful enough. I’m so sorry.”

  “Oh, mi corazón… None of this is your fault. Don’t you ever think that.”

  You did, and you would, probably for a very long time.

  “Where’s Missy?”

  “With mom. They came to see you earlier, and I explained everything. We agreed that it’s probably best to keep her away from here for now, in case someone decides to try and use her against us. If our enemy’s capable of this, then they’re capable of anything. So, they’re gonna stay away until we’ve solved this. I promised Missy that you’d call as soon as you could, she was really scared for you both.”

  “Yeah, of course. I feel better knowing she’s safe, far away from here.”

  “And, yes, I did call the realtor. He could fit us in on Friday, if we wanted.”

  “That’s good. I feel like we might need to do something normal if we’re gonna be able to keep our heads through all of this.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  “Um, just one thing, though…”

  “Yeah?”

  “What’s today?”

  He cracked a genuine smile with the realisation that some things just never changed.

  “It’s Tuesday, hermosa.”

  “I swear, one of these days, I’m gonna get it right.”

  That made him laugh in earnest, and the sound was the best medication you could have asked for. It made you feel at home, even though you were once again tethered to machines and feeling exhausted.

  “Hi, Mama Bear. Don’t worry, I’m gonna take care of you.”

  Marcus stopped laughing, and a kind of delighted shock spread across his face when your stomach suddenly growled loudly.

  He repositioned himself so that he could kiss it on top of the covers, and then rested his ear against it while he smiled happily.

  But then a really depressing thought occurred to you.

  “Marcus… we can’t eat from the restaurant any more. As much as I think we can trust Greg, other people have access to the kitchen.”

  That did nothing to deter his growing good mood.

  “Screw it – I’ll cook.”

  “All my six-to-eight portions per meal, every day? Honey, you won’t have time to do anything else.”

  At that moment, the twins walked in for their evening rounds.

  “Ah, you’re awake. How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

  “Good, but hungry. Which is a bit of problem, right now.”

  But Marcus was already coming up with a solution.

  “Claire, you have three kids, you’re used to cooking for lots of people, right?”

  He was looking at the twin to the right, and she responded right away.

  “Yeah, sure. Are you thinking you’re gonna boycott the restaurant?”

  “Would you feel up to helping me? I need to be able to help her with other things too.”

  “Of course I would. Anything to prevent something like this shit from happening again. Also, cooking on the clock is so much more fun.”

  “Thank you so much. Our list of trusted individuals is extremely short at the moment.”

  Hold the god damned phone!

  “Marcus, how the hell do you do that?!”

  “Hermosa?”

  “How the fuck did you know that that’s Claire?! It’s driving me insane!”

  He chuckled and held up his hands.

  “Electromagnetism, remember. All humans have their own unique electric signature.”

  “Wha… So, you really have been able to tell them apart this whole time?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, that’s just unfair!”

  All three of them just laughed at you before Claire turned to Amanda.

  “Looks like she’s okay, so why don’t we get started on that cooking?”

  “We? He asked you.”

  “And I’m roping you in. Come on. Starving mother over there.”

  “Right.”

  They left and Marcus used his powers to dim the lights, so that he didn’t have to get out of bed. But he stayed fully dressed and on top of the covers, which suddenly really irritated you.

  “Am I on some sort of ‘no touch’ rule with you that I don’t know about?”

  “Huh?”

  You just gestured to his state of dress with your eyebrows raised.

  “Oh. No, not at all.”

  You pushed your eyebrows even further up.

  “You’re not! I’m just… worried.”

  “I’m not asking for sex, Marcus, that would be seriously unwise after almost miscarrying. I’m just asking to be allowed to be close to you again. You’ve kept me at arms-length ever since the incident at the house, and it’s making me feel like I’ve done something terrible to create some sort of precipice between us that you won’t let me…”

  He cut you off by kissing you, warmly, but not heatedly.

  “You’ve done nothing wrong, mi amor. I’m just scared. Scared of draining you, scared of losing you, scared of how badly I need you, every part of you, to the point where I don’t function without you. But there’s no precipice. You’re always allowed to be close to me, if you reach for me, I’ll always welcome you.”

  “Then consider this me reaching for you: Get your ass under these covers and hold me properly.”

  “Don’t worry, mama, it’s coming. Just rest for now.”

  He stepped out of bed and took off all his clothes, except his underwear, before returning to you. You turned on your side, careful to keep the wires that were attached to you from getting tangled or coming lose, and he wrapped his arms around you and tugged you snugly into him. Since the gown was open at the back, you could feel his skin against yours, and it calmed every nerve inside your body better than anything else ever could.

  A tiny current spread along your skin, and he hummed into your neck as the same kind of serenity coursed through him as well.

  Your stomach made an unhappy noise, and his hand came to rub gently at it while he whispered in your ear.

  “Marcus.”

  You’d forgotten to call Missy, but the twins would be back before midnight with food, and you’d have to get up and eat, so you decided to call her then. Right now, you were too tired, and feeling entirely too good, to move a single muscle.

  But, just as sleep was beginning to pull you down, a thought popped into your head, and you couldn’t understand how it hadn’t occurred to you before.

  “Mmm.”

  “What if it’s a whole network?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean… The more I think about what Prince said, the more I fear that this is so much worse than just a few people within HQ. He made it sound like there was a network, an organisation to this madness. ‘I don’t think you realise just how many people in this world are interested in levelling the playing-field.’ That’s what he said. Someone got him out of prison without raising any alarms, got him his equipment and my files and… I’m beginning to think that he was working with the Inventor all along. That your capture, and the way those cages were designed to effectively steal your powers, were too similar to Prince’s work. There are too many coincidences, there has to be some connection. And we can’t fight something like that. Especially when we don’t know who might be sympathisers.”

  “Fuck. This is making so much more sense than I’d like to admit.”

  “What are we gonna do?”

  He was quiet for a minute, subconsciously holding you tighter, while his mind worked the problem.

  “If we’re facing an organisation, the only hope we have, is to build one of our own. To equal the strength and cunning we’re facing.”

  “But how do we do that when we don’t know who to trust?”

  “We reveal the ace up our sleeve.”

  “I didn’t know we had one…”

  “We do. It’s just… kinda far up that sleeve.”

  “What is it?”

  “Verity.”

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