#but perhaps you are all seeing the shape this fic is gonna take...

[amagicbeyond]

okay confession time: I watched Good Omens when it first came out, and had a perfectly lovely time. It was fun and David and Michael are spectacular to watch and they were clearly having the time of their lives playing these characters together. I saw the love there and like, fully supported the ship in theory but could not for the life of me fathom how these two, who'd been dancing around each other for six thousand years or more, could possibly ever move out of the subtext and the dancing into something more explicitly romantic. I couldn't conceive of it, it didn't seem feasible. They seemed, to me, perfectly content to continue on as they always had, as the single most important person in each other's lives and the person each most enjoyed spending their time with, perhaps just a little more ready to stop pretending that wasn't the case. I didn't buy the holding-hands-on-the-bus thing. I couldn't read fic about them, no matter how brilliant or well-written! None of it seemed plausible to me. I couldn't see the pathway, the journey they still needed to take to get there. Not without another couple of thousand years to do it.

(I want you to know that I write this with full respect and admiration for those who've actively shipped it from the start - I'm just working through my own experiences as a viewer who wanted to ship it whole-heartedly but just couldn't manage it, and could never quite put my finger on why.)

When the heart shaped started popping up on all the promo materials for season 2, I thought oh no. He's gonna do it. How on earth is he gonna make me buy in?

Well.

I get it now. This is the angel and the demon who love humanity the most, who have made Earth their home, who have learned to revel in Earthly pleasures like food and drink and music and books and cars, not all at once but over time. It makes perfect sense for them, with the evident changes in their relationship in the years since we've last seen them, to finally endeavor into human touch, and to explore it together. Dancing. Human expressions of comfort, and love. Reaching out, a simple touch on the shoulder, or chest. A kiss, all wrong, for all the wrong reasons. A kiss, eventually, all right, made even more exquisite by the knowledge of the wrong one, and the journey they took to get there. Maybe someday more.

I know none of this is groundbreaking or new and everyone else saw it a long time ago. But I get it! I see the vision! I understand.

What was the point? The point is the best of humanity. They get to have it too, and to express it and wonder at it and learn it together. The point is love.

And I am fully on board.

[misc-obeyme]

Worth It: Part Two

I cannot believe the response part one of this lil macaron fic got. You guys inspired me to write the smutty part two, so here it is. I am not thinking about parts three and four already. Absolutely not, that is not a thing that you just read. Honestly though I could keep going but will I? That's the real question. I do love them, so it's a maybe at the moment lol. Once again tagging @lonely-north-star as requested and also @silverrings-n-prettythings because I saw your tags on the last part lol.

Mammon x Barbatos - read part one here!

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: It's all smut!!! Okay okay but seriously, oral and biting and making out and a lil bit of hair pulling... who's giving to who? I'm not telling, you'll just have to read it to find out mwahaha.

The minute the door to Barbatos’s bedroom closed, Mammon found himself pressed up against the wall. He gasped as he felt warm lips on his neck. The bedroom was dim and Mammon couldn’t see much of anything but odd shapes. It didn’t matter. He was focused entirely on the hands that were gripping his waist.

“What task did you abandon to come here?” Barbatos asked against his skin. His voice was low and heavy, rumbling through Mammon’s veins.

Mammon pulled in a breath. “Devildom Law,” he managed to say.

Barbatos chuckled. “I see,” he said. “Too dull?”

Mammon let his head fall against the wall behind him. “Why do they gotta make us write reports?”

Barbatos hummed thoughtfully. “Perhaps you simply need better motivation.”

Mammon was about to protest, but he gasped instead when Barbatos bit down on his neck. His already flushed face seemed to get hotter, if that was at all possible. More importantly, he was hard as a rock and he was both excited and nervous for Barbatos to notice.

Barbatos pressed his leg between Mammon’s thighs. Mammon grabbed his arms, fingernails digging into the exposed skin, as he tried to bite back a moan.

Barbatos paused in his movements, suddenly going quite still.

Mammon tried to gulp down air for a moment, feeling like he was going to overheat.

“You should return home and finish your report,” Barbatos said, his voice mild.

Mammon whined for a moment before swallowing the sound down. “Ya wouldn’t really do that to me, would ya?”

Barbatos traced Mammon’s jaw with his fingers. “Hmm. We both know what will happen if you fail Devildom Law again.”

Mammon shuddered involuntarily. Lucifer had been especially angry with him about it last time and made quite a few threats.

“I ain’t gonna fail again,” Mammon said.

Barbatos met his eyes and Mammon saw a soft, indulgent expression there. “You must promise me.”

Mammon flushed. Barbatos still had his leg softly pressing between Mammon’s thighs and the pressure was making him crazy. He would promise anything in that moment. “I promise,” he said.

“So quick to agree,” Barbatos said, amusement laced in his voice. “Do you wish for no reward in return?”

Mammon frowned at him. “What kinda reward?”

“If you like, you can consider this a preview,” Barbatos said, pressing up just a little.

Mammon gasped. He’d had enough teasing. He couldn’t take it anymore and he suddenly didn’t care if Barbatos knew how needy he was.

Mammon tightened his grip on Barbatos’s arms and turned with him so that their positions were reversed. Now Barbatos was pressed against the wall, though his expression remained one of amusement.

Mammon slid his hands down to Barbatos’s hips and pressed himself against Barbatos’s body, meeting his lips in a deep kiss that left no question of how he was feeling.

Barbatos responded easily, opening his mouth and meeting Mammon’s tongue with just as much intensity. He pulled Mammon closer by the nape of his neck before allowing his hand to push up into Mammon’s hair. He gripped and pulled Mammon’s head back, breaking the kiss just so he could run his tongue up Mammon’s throat.

Mammon sucked in large breaths, panting. “You’re makin’ me crazy,” he managed to say. “You’re doin’ it on purpose, too, ain’t ya?”

Barbatos pushed gently on Mammon’s chest, making him walk backwards for a bit. In the darkness of the room, Mammon had no idea where he was going, so he could only trust Barbatos to direct him.

When the bed hit the back of Mammon’s knees, he let himself fall onto it easily. Barbatos was on top of him in an instant, lips by Mammon’s ear.

“You have been making me crazy for too long already,” Barbatos said, his hand running up Mammon’s thigh. “Don’t you think it’s only fair that I return the favor?”

Mammon groaned as Barbatos’s fingers ghosted over his still clothed but painfully erect cock. “Whaddaya want me to do? Beg?”

Barbatos chuckled. “While I wouldn’t say it’s required, I certainly wouldn’t mind.”

Mammon gripped Barbatos’s biceps hard. “Barbatos,” he said, his voice gone high into a whine. “Please.”

He was thrilled to see the way a blush bloomed on Barbatos’s cheeks. Finally, he had flustered this stoic demon a little bit.

But Barbatos didn’t say anything. He ran one hand down Mammon’s chest and pulled open Mammon’s belt with the other hand.

Mammon squirmed beneath him in anticipation, nerves and impatience both bubbling up in him.

Barbatos freed Mammon’s cock from his clothes and Mammon bit his lip in an attempt to stay quiet as Barbatos touched him.

Barbatos glanced up at him. “You needn’t hold back,” he said. “No one will hear you.”

Mammon met his eyes. His senses were dulled from need and his guard was down. Quietly, he said, “You will.”

Barbatos tilted his head at this. “Is that a problem?”

Mammon covered his face with his hands. “It’s embarrassin’!”

Barbatos laughed softly. “I disagree. To be clear, I would love nothing more than to listen to you moan.”

Mammon was about to protest, but he found himself unable to speak as Barbatos put the tip of his cock in his mouth.

Mammon's hands flew into Barbatos’s hair, gripping and releasing as he tried not to pull too hard on it. But he was so overwhelmed by sensation as Barbatos proved to be an absolute master with his tongue that Mammon was finding it increasingly difficult to pay attention to what his hands were doing.

All concerns he had about being embarrassed flew out the window when Barbatos took the full length of his cock into his mouth.

Mammon arched his back and moaned. He had to cover his face with his arm because it was too much. He was sure Barbatos was too busy to notice anyway.

Mammon knew the second Barbatos lifted his mouth away that he had miscalculated. He should have known that Barbatos noticed everything.

And indeed, he felt a hand grip his arm and pull it down gently from his face.

Barbatos was looking down at him with a soft smile. “Please don’t cover your face,” he said.

Mammon couldn’t reply, only blushing more and wishing he could go back to covering his face.

Barbatos pulled on his arm again, making him sit up on the edge of the bed.

To Mammon’s great astonishment, Barbatos knelt between his knees and looked up at him. Barbatos reached up to cup Mammon’s cheek.

“I like to see you,” Barbatos said simply.

And then Mammon’s cock was back in his mouth and Mammon had to hold onto Barbatos’s shoulders for dear life. He moaned again and leaned forward, his hands spasming and twisting Barbatos’s shirt.

Barbatos looked up at Mammon’s red face through his bangs and when Mammon met his eyes, he almost came on the spot. He was overwhelmed by seeing his own desire reflected there.

The pleasure built as Barbatos concentrated on his task, his mouth tight and hot and wet, his tongue pulling the sensations from Mammon. He tried not to buck up his hips in response, but it was difficult.

Barbatos didn’t seem to mind and he never broke his pace, no matter how much Mammon moved and squirmed and moaned.

Mammon twisted his fingers harder into Barbatos’s shirt as he felt himself reaching the edge. He suddenly couldn’t stay quiet even if he wanted to.

“Ah,” he panted out. “B-Barbatos-! Ahh, I’m- it’s- I can’t-!”

Barbatos did not stop, did not slacken his pace, only continued on until Mammon was babbling incoherently. He couldn’t form words anymore, only letting out a cry as he came, his hips lifting involuntarily.

Mammon bent over Barbatos’s head, panting, his hands moving from Barbatos’s shoulders to his face.

Barbatos looked up at him and Mammon pulled him up just enough to kiss him. He could taste the salt of his own cum on Barbatos’s tongue. He bit down on Barbatos’s bottom lip, needing to taste more of himself.

Barbatos indulged him for a moment until he pulled away, leaving Mammon feeling empty and almost cold.

Mammon let out a low whine.

Barbatos chuckled. “You are quite needy, aren’t you?”

Mammon blushed and frowned. “L-like ya didn’t know that already…”

“Indeed, I have always been aware of your personality,” Barbatos said. He reached up and ran his knuckles down Mammon’s cheek. “You are greedy, as am I.”

Mammon stared at him in surprise for a moment.

But then Barbatos got to his feet and pulled Mammon up to his. Mammon nearly tripped as his pants were still halfway down, but Barbatos kept him upright. He yanked Mammon’s pants back up, even buckling Mammon’s belt for him.

“What-?” Mammon said.

“You must return to the House of Lamentation now,” Barbatos said. “I do believe you left a report unfinished.”

Mammon grabbed Barbatos’s hands. “But what about you?”

Barbatos smiled at him. “We will have plenty of time to continue when your report is done. Is that not enough motivation to complete it quickly?”

Mammon glared at him. “You’re messin’ with me, aren’t ya?”

Barbatos pretended to look offended. “I am merely looking out for you, Mammon. After all, if Lucifer follows through on his threats, I fear you would have to spend quite a bit of time recovering. You would be unavailable for… other activities.”

Mammon huffed. He stepped closer to Barbatos, leaning in to nibble at his ear for a moment before saying in a low voice, “I know ya think it’s fun to tease me like this, but ya better be prepared for what I’m gonna do when I’m done with that report.”

To Mammon’s immense satisfaction, Barbatos shivered ever so slightly. He straightened Mammon’s jacket. “Please finish your work quickly.”

Mammon practically ran home. Every single one of his brothers was confused about the way he locked himself in his room to work on his Devildom Law report. They speculated among themselves if maybe he was sick. Only Lucifer seemed unconcerned.

worth it part one | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[mikareo]

⌗ SNOWDROP ₊ ˖ ་. nagi seishiro x fem reader (5.4k)

⊹ ⠀⠀ it's the end of the world and he's possibly the most unprepared person alive…perhaps he can rely on the pretty girl with perfect aim who just so happened to save his life at the very last second. he’s never been in love but maybe this love could last…so long as the both of you stay alive.

contains; resident evil inspired, badass agent!reader, helpless civilian!nagi, zombie apocalypse, guns, knives, blood, gore, swearing, angst, fluffy flirting, love at first sight, major character death, reo cameo!!!!, cannibalism (zombies) author's note; this fic destroyed my sanity, but i hope u like it! there are parts that are so unserious asjkl just trust me that it's a good read and pt2 is gonna be fucking crazy

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀ videogame au milestone collab masterlist !

This can’t be happening. There’s no way this is actually fucking happening right now. 

He’s sprinting at full speed, his laces are barely tied, and the smoke in the air is surely clogging his lungs into a blackened pulp of nothingness. To be quite frank, Nagi would rather have those poisoned lungs than discover whatever the hell happened to his neighbors down the hall…because damn they look like they’re in some rough shape. With their sunken eyes, flaking skin, and very obvious urge to suddenly turn to cannibalism, that’s not really his vibe…but that’s a falling telephone pole! Holy shit that’s a falling telephone pole coming straight his way in 3…2…1. JUMP!

Whew, that was a close one. Good thing he’s tall!

The shift in humanity didn’t exactly happen overnight. It was actually just twenty minutes ago when his peace was so rudely interrupted. There he was, snuggled up in his gaming chair with a fresh bag of Cool Ranch Doritos opened and ready to meet his belly, when he finally beat the last level of his new favorite game; only to discover that those screams of terror and fear…yea those weren’t coming from his PC and his living room window is now a pile of ash. Nagi doesn’t think he’s ever seen so much red and yellow in his life, all of it becoming one big blur of flames that he somehow jumped through and landed on the street below— thankfully he lives on the ground floor, otherwise his body would join his couch in a pile of broken limbs. Damn, this is all such a hassle.

No one would be able to guess what it was that caused this chaos…okay, actually it’s not too out of this world; just a commercial jet falling from the sky with a monstrous thing (??) crawling out of the window onto the streets of Tokyo, whilst an oddly green gas dilutes the air.

Yeah, not too crazy— but just crazy enough to make even Nagi Seishiro, laziest man on earth, leave the comfort of his homely apartment to find his neighborhood in complete and utter chaos. He even saw his delivery man devouring the convenience store owner that always gives him an extra bonus off his nightly midnight snack. Man, he loved that guy. That’s a sight that’ll make him shudder for years to come; assuming he can stay alive for the next however many hours and days this newfound apocalypse is going to take.

Nagi thinks it’s been nearly an hour since he started running and he didn’t even know he had this much stamina in him. Maybe he’s secretly a superhuman or another one of the monsters the city has been consumed by— or perhaps his adrenaline rush is nearly infinite since he’s never utilized it in his entire life. He’s not sure of the logistics. He failed high school biology…and chemistry…and physics. There’s a reason why he turned to gaming and shied away from college. This thrill and rush isn’t meant for him. He’s a couch potato that wants to do nothing but rot and enjoy the satisfying ding Twitch gives him whenever he receives a new sub. His generation needs instant gratification…and right now? Well, he’s in desperate need of some water. 

Hesitantly, Nagi rounds into the glass doors of the nearest and safest looking building he happens to see— which is luckily a convenience store similar to the one near his apartment. He’s more than surprised when the automatic doors open in a pinch and he’s able to enter with no difficulty. The store is somehow in little disarray, with its grocery items on the shelves in their rightful spots and few sparse bags of chips laying on the tile floor. However, what is in disarray is the pharmacy section. There are drugstore pills scattered everywhere. He can’t even tell what kind of medications were being scavenged in a clear panic for medical amenities, and highly doubts that whoever was searching for supplies was able to get any with the state the back of the store is in. The font on the labels is so small that Nagi, the man who stares at a screen all day, can’t decipher what they say; and he’s assuming that whoever was in here is long dead and gone. But then again…

…he’s never been the kind of guy who’s always right.

“I come in peace!” His voice is two octaves higher than it normally is. If this were a choir audition, he’d absolutely ace it. “I swear I just came for some water! Please don’t kill me, zombie, please!”

Both of his eyes are shut whilst he awaits his inevitable demise, assuming that the unknown presence in the room likely has an appetite for human organs. There were so many things he wanted to do with his life…like ride a hot air balloon? Actually, that would be really hot if he were that close to the sun. Surf in the Caribbean? Ew, he could get bit by a crab. Get a girlfriend? He can’t complain about that one, that would be very very nice. 

Oh no, he’s already getting eaten…he can practically hear her imaginary laughter already.

“Really? Those are your last words?”

Zombies can talk?

Nagi fearfully inches one eye open to see the most gorgeous person he thinks he’s seen in his entire life. Sure, you look a little disheveled— with your soaked hair and dirt-crusted skin— but to him, you look like something out of his imagination. The female protagonist that he could only dream about campaigning with in a first-person-shooter game, and would later search for a worthy poster to stick on his wall. If love at first sight is real, then this is definitely it. The only issue? Your barrel is pointing straight at his face.

“You’re going to shoot me?” He exclaims, scrambling to back up but ultimately tripping on his own laces and landing on his ass. “Ah shit, that hurts.”

Elegantly, you rush to his side. “You have injuries?” With eyes scanning over every inch of his body, there’s genuine concern dripping from your tongue like honey. Your voice is like a melody, oh man. Nagi thinks he’s a goner— not because he could be eaten by zombies, but because he feels like he’d jump in front of a moving bus to protect you. Pfft, and some protection he’s doing, embarrassing himself like this…

“Nope, nothing’s hurt…” he mumbles, sitting up with an attempted nonchalant look on his face. “...only my ego.”

A small smile reveals itself before him and your eyes crinkle as you let out a little laugh, and instantly he’s almost more obsessed with you. It’s as if you’re some higher being that he was blessed to see on his final day on earth, with golden rays radiating from your skin and big irises that he could drown in. Perhaps if it weren’t the end of the world, the two of you could’ve walked to this store together— holding hands and speaking softly about your shared interests and passions— and he could make you laugh a million times and more…now that he’s really thinking about it, you’re the first girl he’s made laugh probably ever and he really wishes there wasn’t a menacing zombie apocalypse getting in the way of his beautiful fantasy. 

“I’m assuming you’re alone?” You stand up, looking down at him. 

Alone as in single or…

“You don’t have any family that you escaped with?”

…okay not alone as in single. Got it.

“It’s just me,” Nagi stands to his feet and is loving your shocked reaction to his towering height. “My family’s overseas right now, so I think they’re alright. I mean, I hope they’re alright. I don’t have any service to reach them, right now. My phone is down.”

You nod, reaching in your bag for something he can’t quite see. What he can see, though, is the massive shotgun strapped to your back and three large cartridges hanging from your belt— somehow you’re able to carry all that and four grenades, two handguns, and six rolls of bandages in that pack of yours, which you lay out for him so lovingly on the floor. 

“Take what you need.” Oh hell, what has he gotten himself into?

As he backs up cautiously, realization dawns upon your face. “You’ve never done this before have you?” 

“Is living through a zombie apocalypse a common experience?” His mouth is agape. “Yeah, sorry…can’t say this isn’t the first time for me.”

A sigh slips from your lips and you gather your things, packing everything into your bag except for a standard handgun. Nagi can feel his heartbeat picking up as you take three steps closer to him. One. Two. Three. He wishes you’d chosen to take a fourth— that way you’d be nose to nose, he’d get to see your beauty up close, and then memorize the curves and features of your face— which he’d surely never forget as he’d think about them morning, night, and day. He’d love to fantasize about you for hours but you have other plans, dropping said standard handgun into his palms. 

“Just aim for the head, okay?” 

Um. No. Not okay. 

“I don’t really shoot real guns…” he rambles, attempting to get rid of the deadly weapon you’ve so casually given him. “I’m more of a lover, y’know? Talk things out instead of shooting things in between their eyes? I like digital zombies! Yeah, those guys are chill…love ‘em so much…please take this away from me.”

You shake your head, already on your way out of the door. “Nope, you’re coming with me.”

“Why?” If this were a video game, there’d be a massive exclamation point flashing above his head, along with a grave that he could crawl into instead of joining you on this suicide mission. Being six feet under sounds pretty nice right about now…but he’s sure that the look you’re giving him is more deadly than any threat outside. “I don’t think I’m going to be much help to you.”

“Nagi, is it?” You clarify, to which he nods. “There are only two choices right now, and I know we just met but I’d rather you live than die. You’re tall. Your height is going to give you a range advantage when we’re out there, and I can already tell that you have great spatial awareness…not many people would’ve noticed me in the shadows. You know this area far better than I do, and sure, you’ve never held a gun before, but you’ve got to fight to live.”

As your voice continues in a soft-spoken tone, he’s mesmerized. “I want you to live, and I’m going to make sure you do.”

He can feel himself nodding along to your words— his heart getting lighter by the second, perhaps out of adrenaline but he’s going to believe it’s love. He needs something to look forward to when this is all over, if this is ever over, and that something is the image of you and him on a date. With you looking stunning in your favorite outfit and him hopefully looking better than he does right now…clear skies with the cicadas shushing themselves so he doesn’t miss a single thing you say…enough money in his bank account to cover anything and everything you wish for…and the biggest bouquet of your favorite flowers that he can find. What are your favorite flowers?

“Can I ask you something before I say yes?” Nagi’s voice is sweet, seemingly comforting you as your shoulders drop from their automated offensive stance. You look a little curious, likely assuming that he’s going to ask you some tips on how to shoot a gun— which he probably should if he’s being honest with himself, but that’s an issue that isn’t as important as his current curiosity. “Do you have a favorite flower?” 

With teeth shining at him, he’s blinded by the overwhelming beauty you send his way and for the second time, he makes you laugh. 

“My favorite flower? You’re so strange.” Overcome with a fit of giggles, he thinks that this is your first time laughing at something a man said as well. “Why do you need to know that? Are you asking me out or something?”

“I am.” He states bluntly and your cheeks flush red. 

There’s a minute of silence between the two of you and each second is more excruciating than the last. With a heavy clock ticking in his ear, telling him that he’s made a fool of himself as the hand inches more and more to the left; he’s counting down his probable rejection as he’s just shot his shot in the middle of the end of the world. What a stupid decision. He knows his timing could be better— could be a lot better actually— and there’s a part of him that regrets even attempting…but none of that matters, because you’re smiling.

Maybe he makes you just as nervous as you make him…

“Okay Nagi,” you grin and adjust the shotgun strap across your chest. “If we both survive this, I promise I’ll go out with you…but I have some high expectations. I want the most expensive flower arrangement money can buy.” 

“And what kind of flowers are you wishing for, gorgeous?” His voice is a sexy whisper, and Nagi didn’t even know he could be so seductive.

You jokingly roll your eyes at the pet name and toss him one of your inactive grenades, which he catches with ease, urging him to follow you into the chaos— but not before you give him the answer he so desperately desires.

“Snowdrops.”

There are two things that Nagi has realized in the past thirty minutes. 

1.) He’s a lot more athletic than he thought he was. 

Running for a half an hour straight is something that he never imagined himself doing— especially considering that he’s never stepped one foot into a gym in his entire life. What he originally thought to be clumsiness, turns out to be raw strength untouched. You were right to assume that his lengthy limbs would do him some justice in the fight for his life, and he’s thankful for his towering height as he’s blocked falling debris from smacking you atop the head nearly five times now; though, he did miss a flying sneaker that happened to nail you straight in the nose. He’s trying his best, give him a break. 

2.) You might be a figment of his imagination. 

Sure, this idea is likely false as he definitely felt your weight when you were sent flying from a stray hand grenade and landed on top of him, but you just seem so perfect. Getting to know you has been a dream come to life— though making conversation while running for his life isn’t the easiest feat, he’s managing. Some of the things you’ve told him do seem to be made up, though. For instance, you were the culprit behind the plane crash and while he’d love to picture a sunsetting sky with the two of you floating in the breeze, you’re not going to be piloting that jet. However, he has to give you a break because he’s never flown anything other than pixelated aircrafts, especially aircrafts that contain a deadly monster oozing toxic gas that turns people into zombies. Yeah, he couldn’t quite believe that either.

“On your left!” The sound of your voice snaps him back into focus and he realizes there are four zombified citizens barreling your way. “I could use some help here!”

You definitely don’t need his help. For God’s sake you have a shotgun the size of your leg that’s already mowed down three of them and Nagi’s just barely getting used to the sound of the bang. So far he’s pretty much been useless if not for letting you know what’s coming up in the distance, and also being the absolute last resort solution— which is rare, but oh shit it’s happening right now! You’re out of shells! How exactly does he fire this thing again?

Shakily, he attempts to point his handgun in the direction of the lone zombie bounding towards you. “Deep breaths, Nagi! Focus and aim!” Your words of encouragement are appreciated, but ultimately useless as he desperately starts stray shooting. 

“Fucking aim!” You’re losing your patience for him so fast, to which he tries his best to calm down and breathe.

In and out.

His heart rate begins to slow.

Breathe and concentrate. 

His eyes become unclouded by his anxiety, and his vision clears. 

Lock on.

He has a mark on the target. 

With his pistol’s aim assist shining against the zombie’s forehead, he confidently fires a single bullet. It soars through the air, squealing in its flight, and he lets out a sigh of relief…a sigh that he exhaled far too early.

Aw shit, he missed. 

You grunt, bracing yourself against his bullet that ricochets off of the nearby telephone pole and grazes your right arm. He has a clear view of the scarlet blood dripping down your elbow and onto the pavement, and his heart feels heavy. He’s so fucking useless that he’s injuring you. Nagi doesn’t think it’s even possible to be worse at flirting than him; he can’t imagine that there are many guys who are accidentally shooting the girl they like, yet here he is. 

Thankfully, you being the badass agent you are, you’ve managed to reload your eleven shells of ammo in the time it took for him to fire one bullet— and you easily dissolve the zombie to bits and pieces. 

“Your aim can use a little work.” You snort, brushing your fingers against the small wound.

He rips the sleeve of his t-shirt off and attempts to wrap it around your arm. This is what you’re supposed to do, right? The only training he’s had in the medical field is from that one surgeon simulator game he played in middle school, and to be completely honest, it was a pretty good game! However, he’s definitely doing something wrong because you place your hand over his and show him how to properly treat an open wound. Normally, Nagi would be embarrassed that he’s failing so miserably right now— but honestly, the only thing on his mind is how this is the first time you’ve held his hand. He can’t tell if there are butterflies in his stomach or if the smell of blood is triggering vomit. Hopefully the former.

It’s no surprise that your perceptive self notices his focus on your intertwined hands, to which you take the lead and insist on pushing forward. “As romantic as this is, we should find some shelter before we get eaten in the midst of making out.” 

Oh?

“You want to make out with me?” 

Oof that slap hurt. His priorities clearly don’t align with yours.

“Okay, okay.” Nagi holds his hands up in surrender before you can smack his chest for a second time, and he’s finally able to notice your surroundings. Since when was the Mikage Buildingright behind you? Hm…the imminent fear of death must have distracted him. “My best friend’s family owns this tower here. I promise it’s safe.”

Your gaze narrows at the wall of glass windows that are seemingly spotless. There isn’t a single crack, faulty line, or zombie-sized hole that’s visible to the naked eye and he feels a little swell of pride for Reo’s family. Yeah, that’s right! My best friend’s parent’s architects are great at making buildings! It finally seems like he’s had his first good idea of the night, and Nagi couldn’t be more proud. Progress is progress (even if he shot you in the process)! 

“It looks good.” You nod in approval and begin cautiously making your way towards the doors.

While following closely behind, he watches your back and ensures that there’s no one on your trail; which isn’t difficult in the slightest. Most of the civilians have died by now and you’ve already cleared every undead in the area…without his help. He doesn’t know how he managed to be so lucky that he ended up with you, but he’s grateful for every second— and now that you’re finally in his familiar territory, he can finally show you what he’s worth. 

“There’s an elevator up these steps.” Nagi leads you up the grand staircase, remembering how he lazily trotted down it yesterday after Reo tried, once again, to convince him to join his football club. “I think it’ll work, I know they have emergency systems and everything.”

“I don’t know, Nagi…” your voice trails off, something amiss about it. “I just have a weird feeling about this place.”

“I promise Reo’s family’s going to take care of us, they’re the best.” He deflects your concerns, trusting that his friend will pull through and have some crazy solution to save the world. There’s never been a time where he couldn't count on Reo and as soon as you reach the top of these steps, you’ll agree. The text he sent out asking for help is almost delivered, just a few more seconds and that blue line will slide all the way to the right and Reo will be right down the elevator as soon as possible. 3…2…1…sent! There! You’ll both be saved!

But if Reo’s on the top floor in his room…why did his ringtone ding just meters away?

There’s a corpse laying in front of the elevator doors, mangled and bruised. How did Nagi not notice it before? Was he too distracted thinking of his closest and only friend he’s ever had? No way. The security team must have destroyed all of the zombies in the building already, he’s sure Reo and the others are fine— but why does that body look so familiar?

No.

It can’t be him. 

Three steps away. 

There’s got to be some kind of mistake here. A prank right?

Two steps away. 

He can’t be dead. His best friend can’t be dead!

One. 

“No…” With his voice trembling, he stands over his best friend’s body. Reo’s violet hair is drenched in blood, seemingly resembling the color of a plum rather than the typical lavender hue. If it were a normal day, Nagi would laugh at the awful color— telling his partner in crime that the shade didn’t suit him in the slightest and Reo would laugh in annoyance, aiming a ball straight for the taller boy’s head…but this isn’t a normal day. This is the end of the world; and that beautiful lavender flower that Nagi associated with his teammate is wilting. It’s dying. It’s dead along with the heartbeat within it. Reo is dead. 

“Nagi. I need you to step back slowly.” He spins to see you with your barrel aimed at Reo’s corpse, but he can’t seem to move. It’s almost as if he’s been stunned, frozen in place with frostbite cementing his legs to the granite floors, and mouth encased in ice. He’s so overwhelmed that he can’t even open his mouth to give you a warning that there’s something moving behind you. Why can’t he speak? He needs to tell you! However, right when his teeth quiet their jitter, you’re tackled to the ground with a loud pummel. 

Immediately, gunshots ring out in the grand hall. You’re firing in every direction in an attempt to blast off your opponent, but this zombie is particularly agile and you don’t have much room to move with your large shotgun…looking back in retrospect, giving Nagi your only handgun wasn’t the greatest idea.

“C’mon!” Repeatedly, you call out to him, but he remains paralyzed in fear. “Stop being useless!”

He watches as you struggle to wrestle off the infected woman, grunting and groaning with every punch you deal to its face. The skin on her cheeks is almost a greyish shade, discolored and decaying with a potent smell that burns his nostrils. It’s hard to tell who’s who under the blanket of shadows she’s trapped you under, but occasionally he catches a glimpse of golden eyes that tell him the zombie is still alive. 

Somehow, with your almost supernatural raw strength, you’re able to hook your thighs around the zombie’s neck— pinning it down to the pearly floors and trapping it beneath your weight. It claws and cries out, desperately trying to escape your grasp, and Nagi almost feels bad for it. Just a few hours ago, this woman had a life. A real life that she likely looked forward to living every day; and now she’s nothing but a brainless carnivore with cannibalistic intentions. She could’ve been a mother. There could be a little boy out there missing her and waiting for her to come home, tell him that he’s safe, and that everything is going to be alright. When was the last time Nagi talked to his own mother? Why does he deserve to live and this woman doesn’t? Why is he so special that he was saved, while the rest of Tokyo was left to rot? 

It isn’t fair. 

None of it is fair.

He doesn’t deserve to live. He doesn’t deserve to be here. 

He’s taken his life for granted from the moment he learned to walk. Why should you be wasting your time trying to get him to safety when he’s nothing more than absolutely useless? He needs to help.

He needs to be brave…

…but he misses his chance once more. 

Letting out a wailing scream, you muster up enough energy to crush the woman’s head between your thighs, and Nagi is splattered with blood and guts. He doesn’t know how you’re so strong— it’s almost eerie in a way— but he’s more concerned with the state of your well-being. The look of exhaustion in your eyes acts as a glaring sun against his icy posture, and his feet are thawed from the floor, rushing towards you in mere seconds. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he kneels on the ground before you and cups your face closely, “Hey— hey, don’t close your eyes. I’m right here. Please stay awake.” Nagi doesn’t think his voice has ever been so gentle nor has he ever felt this kind of worry for a girl before. Sure, he hasn’t known you for long, but he knows he can’t go on without you. You’re a team and a team sticks together. You can’t die right here! He’s not going to allow that!— but before he can lift you up like the knight in shining armour he wishes he could be, there’s a faint rustling behind him…a familiar rustling. Nagi knows that sound. He knows those movements. He’s heard them a million times and he’d be able to recognize them even in the midst of Shibuya Crossing in the busy hours. 

Where did Reo’s body go?

Perhaps it dissolved or maybe it was kicked aside in the midst of your fight. 

That has to be it, right? Where else could he be?

Nagi’s confusion is understandable. He’s thinking rationally given the circumstances and his heartbeat is somewhat steady. The mass of his body hovers over yours in a protective stance, like a dragon guarding a princess, and for once he appears to be confident. However, that confidence has been set aflame. He can feel his blood racing, burning through his veins in fear and distress, and he wishes he could simply rip his vitals from his skin to destroy the wretched emotions. The sight before him is something out of a horror movie…a horror movie where Nagi is the main character. 

“Oh fuck.” 

Reo leaps out of the shadows before Nagi can even react. 

There’s a blur of hands and feet, hitting and kicking at each other, and the snow haired boy never knew he was this agile. Reo is clearly doing his best to hit Nagi’s vital arteries; to which he’s blocking each attack with his forearms. This is chaos. He doesn't even have a second to think for himself and consider the possibility of blasting Reo’s head off with his handgun. He can’t do that…this is his best friend! 

As Nagi’s leg lines up to knock him off his feet, Reo lunges down and grabs a hold of it. In a panic, he attempts to shake his friend off— wiggling his leg up and down whilst reaching for his combat knife in his back pocket— and slices the skin in between Reo’s forearm and bicep…which is ultimately ineffective. Oh, shit he just got angrier! Growling, zombie-fied Reo clasps his hands around Nagi’s waist, lifting him off the ground with ease and throwing him into the elevator doors. The sound of his body slamming against the metal slab rings out, echoing in the grand foyer and deafening Nagi’s left ear. His breathing is heavy and he feels like he can’t get a single ounce of air in his lungs. Everything seems to be blurry, foggy with mist covering his irises as he attempts to see what’s right in front of him. 

A carnivorous Reo…

…and an unconscious you.

It’s clear to him what’s going on. There are two outcomes to this horrific situation and whatever decision Nagi makes is going to impact the rest of his life. 

1.) Let you go and join the afterlife with his best friend. 

2.) Save you and never see his best friend again. 

His heart is at war within himself. One side fighting for Reo, the boy he’s known for so long. The boy he’s laughed and cried with. The boy who knows everything about him. The boy who believed in him when no one else did…until you came along. 

Just the thought of seeing your lifeless eyes, bloodied body, and severed limbs flips a switch inside him— and Nagi finally comes to realize what’s happening. This isn’t Reo. This shell of a man with a monstrous hunger isn’t his best friend. Reo is a ghost now. He doesn’t exist anymore and now his body is being possessed by the undead, or whatever zombies are. He can miss his friend all he wants, but that doesn’t change the fact that the thing creeping towards you is nothing but a stranger who knows all of Nagi’s secrets. 

It’s time for him to fight to live. 

As he swiftly stands and tackles Reo to the floor, a wave of memories flash before Nagi’s eyes. 

The moment he first heard Reo’s voice. It was light and friendly. He had used a tone that Nagi hadn’t ever heard before, and although he had no interest in playing soccer, he still wanted to impress the popular boy— not because he wanted a higher status or a girlfriend, but because he knew this stranger needed a friend…and he really needed a friend, too. 

His palms grip Reo’s throat, ripping him off of your body.

The first time Reo laughed at something he said. It wasn’t intended to be funny, but the plum-haired boy couldn’t help but burst into a fit of giggles and Nagi found himself laughing as well. Sitting in the school courtyard, side-by-side with crumbling onigiri falling from their mouths, there’s no doubt that they looked like two elementary schoolers finding humor in something obscurely immature— but despite that, it’s one of his fondest memories. 

Reo struggles against Nagi’s weight, pinned to the floor with nowhere to run.

When he’d first shown him his concerningly large collection of video games, Reo hadn’t batted an eye. In fact, the very next day, Nagi received a friend request from him. Which seemed like a small act at the time, until he found out that Reo had gone to the tech store and purchased an entire PC set up just so he could be the Player 2 to Nagi’s Player 1. They were partners in both the real and virtual world— an unstoppable pair that won more tournaments as time went on— and Nagi will never clean out his xbox inventory filled with their trophies. 

His finger grazes the trigger.

This is it. 

No more memories.

It’s time to say goodbye.

In movies, when the protagonist has to kill their loved one, a single tear rolls down their cheek. 

For Nagi, his face drowns in his cries. 

“I’m sorry.” 

He’s gone.

“I love you.”

Reo’s body dissolves into ash…

…then dust…

…then nothing. 

“I’m so sorry.”

PART TWO COMING IN THE NEAR FUTURE (i’m a slow writer pls forgive me)

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹

[blarefordaglare]

The Motivational Fight Fic

Some LUFAU crack (but treated seriously) to motivate my good friend @kikker-oma to make the Sky V. Time comic (healthy motivation, not pressure motivation just to make this clear. It would be very hypocritical, and rude of me to do that)

or I stole your idea, cracked and angsted it at the same time, and giving it back because theft is bad.

oh and TW swearing, kinda blood but not really it’s like mentioned once, and like some family fighting

Oh this is also pre LU when all of them come together, so this is only Sky, Four, and Time (I separate them timeline wise in the beginning, before it breaks, then I take some creative liberties. But it is just these three)

BONUS: SPOT THE NEGATIVE COPING STRATEGIES! THERE’S THREE I TRIED TO IMPLY BECAUSE THERE IS ONE EACH OTHER(well not really for Time)

___

Sky trusted the old man. Out of all his future incarnations, the Hero of Time seemed the wisest. The way his eyes bore a hidden sadness that was warped and shaped into maturity proved his thoughts right. The green on the other’s wings was calming, and the design shown a satisfactory, full life, not a cheerful one. 

His wings, on the other hand, bore a bright red with youth. He wasn’t quite sure why all (if not, most) Skyloftians achieved wings after descending to Hyrule; He had his theories though. Perhaps it was due to the fact Hylia would need to find a hero again, and the flashy color would alert her against the vast world of-

Right. Back to Time. If there was one thing he knew about the color green, it clashed with red. 

“Benched?! Why?” 

Time pinched the bridge of his nose, Sky could sense the telltale signs of exhaustion coursing through his veins, yet he didn’t really care. It wasn’t fair, so why should he feel empathy? “For the last time, Sky,” He lifted his head back up, one of his eyes still half lidded, a trait he noticed form when he first met the man, “You’re not being benched. There’s stuff you don’t know yet, that-“ He hesitated.

“Smith,” the shorter quickly whispered back, giving a faux-apologetic look to the chosen hero.

“That Smith and I do know, and that’s okay, but-“ 

“But I want to come too. I want to know now.” One thing he would never admit is that, ironically, he hated secrets. Not that killing a god and cursing his home was that big of one-it was quite minuscule probably. Most likely. They wouldn’t know. “It’s not fair if you’re gonna leave me out. Plus, you may need me,” the frustration in his body fizzed towards his tongue, “You’re back gives out quite a bit, I can tell.” 

“That was completely uncalled for, especially for an arrogant child like yourself.”

The chosen hero raised his foot to step back, but last minute decided to go forward. He made sure to ignore the resulting fumble, “Arrogant?! As if you would know the difference. You probably can’t tell a pumpkin from a bird.” 

“Guys…” the Smith hastily stepped in between the two, holding his arms out as a barrier, “Let’s not fight.” 

The following, loud, “No!” did not help ease the tension. He took a step back, a sense of being overwhelmed shooting through him and begging to be forgotten. Maybe he should forge new weapon, just in case if another hero came along who didn’t have one. 

“You probably should watch your tongue, you know what happens to children who talk back.” 

The way Time’s wings pulsed when he emphasized the c-word was enough to fuel the Skyloftian’s own fury. It was as if the red in his wings was growing, spreading up his neck and to his face, hardening it with Hylian anger. 

“Bitch, YOU SHOULD WATCH YOUR FACE!” He reached his hands out, the rapid motion making it impossible for even him to see, “I will fucking KILL YOU. I have the GODDESS on my side, beat that!” 

“I’M MARRIED TO A WOMEN WHO COULD SKEWER THE GODDESS AND COOK HER FOR DINNER, YOU’RE NOT SPECIAL.” 

“I NEVER SAID I WAS, STOP ASSUMING THINGS OF ME!” His arms reached out again, grabbing the metal plating on Time’s humerus, gripping it with his fingernails until they bent over, blood pooling on the edges from stress, yet he continued the relentless grip. He tried to push him down, yet the heavy metal kept him balanced on his feet. 

The smith didn’t even try to engage anymore, it was probably fine. He looked over to the cave in the distance, the one that was supposed to lead him and time to the forest. He wondered what was out there. 

Time’s next words were surprisingly… calm? No, that wasn’t the right word. They were sharp, yet quiet, “Let go of me, Sky.” The look on his eyes bore disappointment, the open lid slightly lowering, along with his jaw locking in a neutral expression, “You’re acting out.” 

Sky stared into those eyes (or rather, eye) for a second, attempting to nonverbally induce the challenge, yet the man wouldn’t back down. With a grumble, he forcefully released the grip, slapping his arms down to a resting position. 

His eyes still didn’t look fine, the older  could notice. He looked over to the smith, motioning for him to come, yet he couldn’t just leave him like this. It would be cruel. He deserved a chance at calming down, so when he comes back they could talk.

Digging into his pouch, he found some candy, a recipe Malon created herself from some local honey she came across at the market. He hoped a handful would be enough to suffice the boy, “Here, it tastes good, you’ll feel better, I promise.” He gave an awkward smile, then quickly walked off back into the cave.

Sky may have never learned the sword-splitting events that happened in that forest, but he didn’t need to. He was okay now, but his nails hurt. 

[padfootagain]

The Moustache

The Moustache

Hello! Today, we’re answering an anonymous request: “Helloooo! You see I woke up from my nap thinking about this… You see how Ben had a mustache in the cabinet of curiosities when he played old william? I don’t really know if it was fake or he had to grow it, but for the shake of this idea lets gonna pretend he had to grow it. I remember years ago reading a Sebastian Stan fic where he also had to grow the mustache for the I, Tonya film and reader be like “I’m not kissing you until you shave that thing off your face” and I thought it would be fun reading something like that Ben? If you’re down for it. Reader being playful and turning her face when he tries to kiss her or something like that🙈 I’m not really fan of guy’s with mustaches but I guess we always can make exceptions….”

I have no idea what the fanfic the anon is referring to, but the idea is absolutely adorable, so let’s goooo!

Thank you for your request, anon! I hope you enjoy your fic!

I hope you all like this cute little fic! Tell me what you think of it!

****

Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader

Warnings: absolute fluffiness that will leave your teeth rotten

Summary: Ben needs to grow a moustache for his role in Guillermo del Toro’s Cabinet of Curiosity. You’re not a fan, although… perhaps you don’t hate it as much as pretend you do.

Word count: 1611

Ben Barnes’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

You’ve never liked moustaches.

It’s simply not your thing. You don’t find it aesthetically pleasing, it tickles when you kiss…

Still, as Ben is getting ready to work for his next Netflix show and he has to grow a moustache… you don’t mind it that much.

You would be lying if you claimed that you didn’t prefer him with a full beard or a clean-shaven face, still… it must be Ben’s magic playing with your head cause you still find him dashing this morning, as you see him shaving his cheeks, shaping his moustache with care.

It’s rather late in the morning, but it’s Sunday and you both enjoy these days slow-paced and lazy, filled with blankets, cuddles and cups of tea.

You have lingered in bed for a long while with Ben this morning, taking your time to wake up under his kisses, holding onto him tight as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. The sun was fully risen when you summoned enough strength to get up and prepare a breakfast for two, Ben making his famous pancakes and you cutting fruits and preparing your favourite beverages and stealing touches as you walked by him.

Now, you’re coming out of the shower that you shared with Ben. The habit domestic and loving, of hands running through hair, and palms massaging tired shoulders, and fingers rubbing soft caresses as well as soap on the other’s skin.

Ben’s hair is still a wet mess, dark strands falling before his eyes. He’s wearing nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips, and you can’t help but stare at him as he gets ready.

You put on your underwear while stealing glances, but Ben is too focused to notice the way you gawk at him, admiring the few droplets lingering over the small of his back and along his spine.

He frowns after a while though, staring at his own reflection scrunching his nose in focus.

He turns to you, a slight tilt of the head as he asks you a question.

“Did I make my moustache even? I can’t tell anymore, I’ve been staring at it for too long…”

You chuckle at that, but examine his work all the same, taking the scissors he offers to make the shape perfect.

“Will no one make sure you’ve done a good job on set anyway?”

“At make-up? Of course. But I still have to live for a whole week without any professional help and still try my best to not look ridiculous.”

“But you have my help!” you chime.

“Yeah… that’s what I’m saying.”

You swat his upper arm playfully as you protest, making him laugh.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!”

“You shouldn’t play that game with me when I’m holding the scissors. The fate of your facial hair is in my hands, after all.”

He fakes fear, in a not-so-convincing way, especially for a talented actor…

“Please, have mercy, don’t take it out on the moustache!”

“Stop talking, you’re moving your lips.”

“Sorry.”

It’s quiet for a few minutes while you shape his moustache the best you can, and you have a proud smile as you put down the scissors.

“Done! Look! What do you think?”

He smiles as he looks at his reflection once more.

“Quite good! Well done!” Ben leans to give you a kiss, but he frowns hard when you scrunch your nose as you pull away.

“This thing tickles. When are you getting rid of it?”

He laughs at that.

“In a couple of months, I would say.”

“Two months?! Wow… that’s a lot…”

“You hate it that much?”

His tone is playful still, and yet you don’t fail to recognize the hesitation in his gaze.

You roll your eyes.

“You’re always gorgeous, baby,” you reassure him, and it earns you a bright grin.

“But?” he adds, raising a brow.

“But… I’m not a fan of the moustache.”

“Really?” he asks, touching the hair above his lip. “I thought it gave me some… mature charm.”

“You don’t need a moustache to look mature.”

“Are you implying that I’m old?”

“Of course!”

“Hey!”

You can’t refrain your laughter this time, shaking your head at the outrage in his eyes.

“No, you’re not old! Besides, you’re aging gracefully.”

“Getting better, like a fine wine?” he teases, and you nod.

“Absolutely.”

“So, if I wanted to keep my moustache after the movie was done…?”

“Well, you’re free to do whatever you want with your facial hair,” you answer cautiously.

“But you won’t like it.”

You know he’s teasing, not being truly serious.

“I might refuse to kiss you as often as I do now.”

He looks at you with shock, a hand on his heart.

“That would be awfully cruel of you, love!”

“But it tickles! And it’s…”

You merely shake your head.

“Actually, I’m not sure I want to kiss you anymore, now that you have that thing on your face,” you tease him, and Ben knows what you’re doing. He still plays along, gasping.

“No kisses! That would be too cruel. Besides, we both know you wouldn’t hold for more than five minutes! You love my kisses too much for that.”

As if to prove a point, he drops a couple of pecks on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you to pull you close. When you feel him tugging at the clasp of your bra, you pull away though.

“Is that a challenge? Cause I can totally resist the urge of kissing you for a whole day. Especially when you’re sporting that thing.”

“Thing? It’s not alive, you know?”

“Are you sure?”

You both laugh at that while you put on a shirt and some jeans, and Ben gets dressed as well.

“I bet you can last an hour, and then you’ll give up and come cuddle and steal kisses,” he challenges you, and you raise an eyebrow, meeting his confident gaze.

“You think you’re this charming, huh?”

“I am. To you, at least.”

“Cocky!”

He rolls his eyes, but when he answers, the words are more genuine, less playful.

“I simply assume that you’re as obsessed with me as I am with you.”

You grin at that, and you lean to kiss him, before you remember his challenge. You shake yourself out of your urge, and narrow your eyes at him.

“Hmmm… Almost fell for this one,” you admit, making him laugh.

“You would have held on for a grand thirty seconds, then. That would have been a record, you’re all over me all the time when we’re alone.”

“That’s not true!”

“Yes, it is. And I’m all over you as well, and I like it that way.”

It’s his time to lean closer, but you turn your head away, his lips landing on your cheek instead of your lips, making you giggle as he gives you a big smooch anyway.

“No! No kisses!”

You both laugh at that as you walk out of the bathroom.

It turns out it’s easy to last for an hour without kissing him, because Ben spends some time working and you spend some time reading. Even if you’ve both settled in the living room, you’re both busy with your own tasks, and merely hold hands from time to time.

The real struggle comes after this quiet time, when Ben starts seriously losing focus and sets himself on a cuddling mission, lying down and resting his head on your laps so you can run your fingers through his dark hair. He heaves a content sigh at the feeling.

But the moment lasts just a few minutes as Ben grows restless and is soon playing with your hand, then lifting the hem of your shirt to kiss your stomach.

“Stop! It tickles!” you complain in a laughter you can’t hold back, pushing him off of you and almost making him fall off the couch.

He rolls his eyes.

“I usually have a beard and you’re perfectly fine with that!”

“But it doesn’t feel the same.”

He gives you a look and scoffs.

“You’re being dramatic.”

“And you’re irritating.”

He scrunches his nose, moving his moustache in the process, and you can’t help but laugh at him for it. It earns you another dramatic eye-roll.

“Come on, I want kisses,” he complains, leaning closer, but you turn away, laughing.

“No! No kisses while you have that moustache!”

“I’ll have it for two months, you can’t hold that promise, love.”

“I can! I will!”

But Ben grows annoyed now, because, after all, he does want his kisses. His tone is less humorous when he speaks again.

“Love, please. Darling, I want to kiss you. I’m not joking now.”

You pout.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

You nod, and he smiles again as he leans closer…

…for his lips to meet the cover of your book.

You explode in laughter, and if he didn’t love this sound so much, he would be mad at you right now.

“You’re so cruel…”

But you take his face in your hands in a tender hold, and he can’t keep scowling.

“Sorry, baby. That’s enough teasing. And I need more than you having a stupid moustache to not want to kiss you anymore.”

“Good to know.”

And you yield. You kiss him, forgetting about this challenge of his, and it’s worth it. Despite the moustache, you adore his kisses more than anything in this world.

He chuckles against your lips as you melt into his arms.

“So much for holding on for a whole day…”

“You were getting too needy and moody.”

“Was not.”

“Was too.”

“Let me kiss you again…”

You smile, nodding, bumping your nose into his in the process.

“Please, do.”

****************************

Taglist : @sergeantbuckybarnes @wolfmoonmusic @reg-arcturus-black

[sugar-omi]

I need to know… for science… if when merman!Cove turns human, does he end up naked like Ariel in the Little mermaid?

ANON.... THE GASP I JUST GASPED pls i immediately started imagining it and i had to stifle a laugh 🙈🤭<3 anyway this spiraled but i hope this answers your question 🫶🫶 somehow i think i contributed more to your research than you asked for but were thinking (projecting much naeomi? LMAO /lh)

i got another ask before this one for (innocent) mer!cove hc's, it can be found here: ["merman cove headcanons"] related: ["D&D headcanons for OL1+2"]

tags : Suggestive + crack, drabble

+ NSFW under the cut, monster dick? jfc i never thought i'd type that out....., monster fucking (implied/ment)

synopsis : merman cove when he turns into a human. and a bit on what's under his clothes/scales.

well... i would like to tell you no but yeah yeah he is

cove keeps a "sash" around him, so when he wants to shift, he just ties it around his waist until he puts some pants on

(i imagine he has some fins around his hips perhaps? so he keeps it across his chest. at least keeps it there so it doesn't interrupt his swimming)

omg, imagine you plan to meet one day, and cove thinks he has enough time to run into the beach house and put on some pants before you arrive

so he shifts and starts going to the beach house but then, in the corner of his eye he sees a figure clad in your favorite color and-

it's you. wide-eyed, open-mouthed, and you're so obviously flustered

cove is frozen (a mistake)

and when you glance down, blinking owlishly, does cove yelp and dives back into the ocean....

well... needless to say i think you might need to reschedule n cove will see you in like 7 to 8 business days 😬😬

ofc it's before you're dating so cove is freaking the fuck out

for a bit after that, you meet at whatever location you've decided on until cove can stomach seeing you at the beach again <3 poor baby

i had no intention of talking abt his dick but... I must. and someone will ask anyway right? (im projecting n justifying myself LMAO)

+ in his mer form:

of course we got the typical slit in the tail whatever blah blah if you've read mermaid smut before you alrdy know

(im realizing how many.... interesting. fics i've read... no one say ANYTHING<//3)

his dick is so pretty like this but also so intimidating

because cove is so much bigger in merman form than he is in human form, although he's still impressive then.

anyway, cove's dick has the same gradient as his ears

the base is a deep blue-purple color, the tip of his dick is the same flesh tone of his tan but it has more of a purple undertone <3

now the shape

oh lord...

it's fat.

but to start light... his dick has a nice curve, and don't worry! its not a fight to put in kind of fat, but he has a knot of sorts though...

i wouldn't say it grows n you're stuck together like in a/b/o fics, but it is a small feat to pull out (this is the moment I realized imma end up writing a mer!cove smut fic 💀)

i was going to say he has a piercing down there, but i take that back. he does have ridges though on the underside of his dick

they smooth out the closer you get to the tip, and honestly, they are most prominent around the base

+ in his human form

it's normal!

well... if you ignore the way he's a bit thicker than the average man

(especially at the base, although it's not as prominent as his 'knot')

also that he still has the ridges on the underside of his dick...

other than that it's basically the same as a humans!

at least it's not as girthy as in his mer form

your finger tips can't even touch in his mer form, at least in his human form you're...

well you're closer than before <3

of course, he still has that sweet curve. and if anything, it's a bit more prominent since you aren't being stretched out n overpowered by this huge merman 🧜‍♂️

length is this the same 6-6.5 inches though <3

actually i take that back... I think in mer form, he's around 7 inches

if you're worried abt where all that dick is gonna go, dw a good couple inches is his 'knot' so just don't catch him during mating season and you're okay<3

speaking of mating season....

oh man i didn't even think abt it but he's feral

i think mermaids/sirens release a pheromone during sex, no matter what, but during mating season it's stronger

it's just to calm their partner and make them more relaxed. during mating season, though, it also becomes more like an aphrodisiac

and he's releasing more of these pheromones during this time, a more subconscious thing that otherwise he could control normally.

and ofc, unless you're not worried abt it bc you can't get preg, take some type of birth control potion, or want it. cove's one goal is to breed or mate you

if you're unmated, full expect cove to claim you during this time. now i'm not gonna say smth about biting your scent gland or some shit, but i do think it's like some kind of ritual shit

i imagine its something like cove adding a drop of your fluids (spit, blood, cum) into the special ritual juice and drinking it, then when you wake up next you find a matching "tattoo" on you and cove

or if you're basic (or a masochist) then yeah we'll go w the biting thing

besides that need to claim you, he wants you so bad

to fill you up, to fuck you dumb on his cock, and please you...

he just needs you. but he really does try to hold back, especially since if you're not a mer-person than you probably couldn't handle how rough mer-people can be during heat.

okay i...i think i'm done

excuse me while I reevaluate my existence after wtf i just wrote🫡

[sethmacfarlanedeathpose]

Remy and Rogue T4T mpreg Fic

Fluff/domestic/slight angst

Rogue never in a million years would think that one day she'd be a mother. She had spent her whole life living with a mutant power that made it near impossible to touch anyone, and living with guilt that came from the consequences of having such power. It seemed like she would never have any sort of intimate life and therefore sire any children, but things changed when she met Gambit.

The love crazed Cajun had the hots for her the moment he laid eyes on her and although she turned down his advances for years she couldn't help but fall for that sweet Southern charm of his and well it seemed like in no time at all they had become an item among the X-Men. And she would come to learn a lot about him, like how he was trans, which made them even closer as they shared that in common, and despite his attempts to be seen as some sort of Casanova, deep down he saw Rouge as his one and only and had admitted to her one day about his desire to have children.

"You know that just ain't gonna happen, sugar?"

And Gambit knew Rogue was right, she couldnt lay a finger on him without sending him to the infirmary, so there wasn't much of a chance of any sort of procreation to happen. That was until their dear, gentle friend and comrade Dr Hank McCoy would offer them some resolution to their predicament.

Beast's experiments where always for the betterment of man and mutant a like so he would be well trusted in providing the Star crossed lovers some help, that being the option of artificial insemination.

It sure worked for Gambit and Rogue because it seemed like in no time at all Remy had fallen pregnant and well Rogue was the mother. A situation Rogue would have never seen herself in beforehand but it was all coming true now.

_________________________________________

Both of them would see their wish of having children, and well Gambit loved the attention he got from it, that being both positive and negative. Even when Logan would throw a passing remark at him about how he was "Getting out of shape" Remy always saw it as Wolverine being jealous perhaps. Although he wasn't going to sugarcoat it, the Cajun wasn't made of the same metal he used to be.

He had softened up quite a bit, it didn't help that Rogue was always overprotective of him and basically wouldn't let him do a thing. The moment Gambit started showing, Rogue would have her gloved hands protectively laying on top of his belly, as if to warn anyone around not to touch him.

When it came to feeling the baby's movement Rogue could feel it, but she did always yearn for the feeling of it without her protective gloves and Remy would have liked that too. He couldn't even get a little kiss without it being a risk to him and the baby. Rogue had felt especially upset about it one morning when they were cuddling in bed together.

There were no missions nor threats to worry about, no word of Magneto causing any problems and certainly no sentinels or intergalactic forces being seen on Earth. So well everyone could just take a moment to breathe. Rogue had been pretty much holding onto Remy all night. Her arms dressed in protective gear touching against his own covered skin. Gambit was still asleep whilst Rogue layed her head in the crook of his neck, a small pillow acting as a barrier between them and she was wide awake and just taking in every moment of rest she got. Her hands gently parading down Remy's figure, to softy graze the surface of his belly. He was about seven months along at that point and was showing very prominently. Rouge loved giving his tummy little pokes to see if the baby would move, but she had left it for that morning as to not wake Gambit so rudely.

There was a little movement, but mostly just the baby stretching, not too much tossing and turning, not enough to bother Gambit at least. Whilst the card thrower was playing sleeping beauty, Rogue had decided she had enough laying by Gambit's head and gently shuffled her way down to his dome of a belly, so that her nose was just lightly bushing against his waist.

Sweet nothing's where whispered to the baby, Rogue telling the bundle of joy how excited she was and how she'd do her best to be the best mother she could be. She swore not to be anything like Mystique. It didn't take too long until the baby started moving, possibly at the sound of such a familiar voice, and began to tumble around, making its presence once again known to Remy.

The Cajun's eyes fluttered open, piercing red and black eyes shooting down in Rogue's direction, seeing her be so loving and tender. Remy stretched ever so slightly to gain some attention from Rogue, having her jerk her head up in his direction.

"Oh, I didn't mean to wake you, Darling."

"Non, don't worry, Cher. Gambit is just happy to see you first thing when he wakes up!"

A small chuckle left Rogue's lips, she quickly placed another kiss on his belly and moved her way back up to Remy. Of course she couldn't place a kiss in his lips, but she could go back to laying her head against the pillow and resting her hand against his stomach. Then hearing Gambit's own sweet whispers.

[bluerose5]

Hmm how about Halsin and Iron Bull (in whatever relationship dynamic you like!) commiserating after a fight with some goblins?

The kind of ship that snuck up on me out of nowhere. These two 100% took control of the fic and made it longer than what I intended, although I'm not complaining. 😌

...

One thing the Iron Bull never expected was for Halsin to admit to being a lightweight of all things.

While the tieflings' party was in full swing, he made his rounds throughout camp, took note of where everyone else's minds were at, his companions' especially, and he drank.

That was, until Bull realized the liquor on hand was some of the weakest shit compared to back home.

Still, it was a celebration, so he accepted drinks when offered, disgruntled by the fact that he was barely breaking a sweat over it.

Sobriety aside, he waited to speak with Halsin last, mostly because he wasn't quite sure what to make of him yet.

For one, he was big. Probably a little shorter than your average Qunari, but bigger than any elf Bull encountered in Thedas at least.

Secondly, he wielded magic different from most that Bull was familiar with, and the fact that majority of spellcasters in Faerûn didn't have to struggle against demons and possession in order to control their power...

Strange. Reassuring in a sense, but very strange.

When all was said and done, Bull figured no harm could come from getting to know the newcomer. This esteemed, knowledgeable "Archdruid" of theirs.

Who happened to be easy on the eyes —well, eye, singular— as well, but that was neither here nor there.

The Iron Bull sauntered up to him with a friendly smile, his head held high in a show of confidence.

"Well, it looks like I saved the best for last!" Bull greeted. "Settling in okay?" Before Halsin could answer, Bull interrupted. "Wait! Wait." He gave a dramatic pause. "I couldn't bear it if you said 'no.' Haha!"

He beamed at Halsin, who couldn't resist a snort of amusement, the corners of his eyes crinkled in delight.

Bull could practically hear Krem grumbling from there.

"Do not concern yourself with me. I am settling in just fine," Halsin assured him. "Of course, it always helps to have a host as gracious as yourself."

"Let's see if you still think that by the end of the night," the Iron Bull joked. He stood at Halsin's side, giving him a playful nudge with his elbow. "Seriously, though, that fight at that temple was great, yeah?" His heart raced at the memory. He leaned in, his voice low, appreciative. "You were incredible."

"Oh, come now," Halsin said, brushing off the compliment. "I don't know about that. You and your companions did most of the heavy lifting, after all."

"Don't downplay your role in our victory," Bull told him. "The sheer amount of goblins alone would have proved a challenge for anyone, but you cut through them like it was nothing." Try as he may, Bull couldn't help it, his eye trailing up and down Halsin's body. "All of that fury and rage, unleashed, directed at our enemies. You were a sight to behold, but tell the truth. You enjoyed it, didn't you?"

Halsin glanced at him, not even bothering to hide how his eyes raked over his frame in return.

"Perhaps," he allowed, taking a second to clear his throat. "I must admit, I have come to expect at least a hint of fear from outsiders in response to my wild shape."

"Heh," Bull chuckled. "I fought dragons before, pal. It's gonna take more than a big teddy bear like you to scare me away."

"Is that so?" Halsin raised an eyebrow at him, surveying the area around them. "Maybe I should work on that then. Everyone should maintain a healthy balance of fear and respect for nature."

"Trust me, I respect it plenty," Bull said, "but by all means, do your worst."

Halsin shook his head, smiling to himself.

"Tempting as that is, you surely have others to go mingle with. Don't let me keep you."

"Nah." Bull waved off that concern without second thought. "I've done more than my fair share of mingling for tonight. I want to get to know you better."

He gave him a playful poke to the arm.

"Hmm..." Halsin hummed in contemplation. "I wouldn't want to be selfish and rob others here of your company. I can wait until morning to speak with you at the very least."

"Which is fine, if that's what you want," the Iron Bull whispered, "but what if I want you to be selfish?"

Halsin searched his expression for any sign of deceit.

When such scrutiny proved fruitless, his entire demeanor shifted, more open to the idea compared to before.

"In that case," he responded, "will you tell me about one of your dragon hunts then?"

"Fuck yeah, I will!" Bull exclaimed, his excitement radiant like a flame.

He clasped a hand onto Halsin's shoulder, giving it a warm, companionable squeeze.

A small shiver shot down his spine, one that Bull was quick to watch with keen interest.

The Iron Bull reckoned that Halsin didn't know many people who towered over him. It was almost funny how often his gaze would level with Bull's pecs or wander farther below before darting up to his face yet again, as if he had to constantly remind himself that he was the shorter one for once.

Then again, maybe he just liked the sight of his chest. Bull couldn't fault him for that.

"Let's see. Let's see," Bull said, rubbing at his chin while he thought it over. "I could go simple. The first dragon I ever hunted alongside the Inquisitor was terrorizing the countryside we were in at the time. It was a Fereldan Frostback."

Already, his eye was glazing over at the tale, his voice taking on a tinge of admiration that bordered on reverence. Or as close to it as he could get.

"Extremely territorial, those ones, and damn if she wasn't a beauty. All of that raw, untamed power, but unfortunately for her, her territory happened to include a few defenseless villages that couldn't ward her off on their own. That's where we came in."

He wrapped his arm around Halsin's shoulders, drawing him in closer as he spoke, staring off towards a faraway land that was well beyond their reach for now.

"That sharp burst of air that rushed past as she swiped her tail at us. That loud ringing in our ears when she screeched at the skies. That molten heat that radiated in the air when she snapped her teeth at us, so close that we would have been her next meal, had we not rolled out of reach in time."

He bared his teeth into a grin.

"That was a good day," he all but growled. "A good day, indeed!"

Halsin shifted in place. Of course, it didn't escape Bull's notice how he eased closer to him in the process.

He stared at the Iron Bull with a mixture of heat and shock.

"You almost sound excited," he said, hesitant, not wanting to overstep his bounds.

Not that it deterred Bull in the slightest.

"That's because I am," Bull stated, unashamed. "Even now, something about it gets my blood pumping and my heart racing, more so than any other fight." He grunted loudly as he lingered on the memory. "Maybe it's in my blood."

"Your blood?"

"Yeah," he said, "rumor has it that there might have been some dragon's blood mixed into the Qunari's somewhere along the way." He shrugged. "No one knows for certain. Would be pretty badass, though, wouldn't it?"

"Definitely."

"Okay, now it's your turn."

"My turn?" Halsin questioned.

"To share. Come on," Bull encouraged. "You can't tell me that you don't have some wild stories stashed away."

"Well," Halsin launched into his tale without missing a beat, "it's not too different from yours. Back in my youth—"

"Nuh-uh, none of that," Bull interrupted. "You're not that old."

"I'll have you know that I am three hundred and fifty years young."

"Hot."

Bull smirked when that got a laugh out of him.

"I can admire anyone who is so open with their desires," Halsin said, "but shall I continue the story?"

"Oh, alright, I'll behave."

"Somehow I doubt that," Halsin teased, "but as I was saying, I was young and impulsive at the time, traveling and exploring the world to my heart's content. After indulging in nature's gifts on land for so long, life led me to the sea. Throughout my journey, I heard about a string of pirate attacks, led by a rogue band of water genasi. Their greed had already impacted several coastal villages by the time I caught wind of it."

Bull made a mental note to ask more about the race later, too intent on listening to the current story to venture off on another tangent.

"People were being taken from their homes, everyone from their children to the elderly. Those who relied heavily on fish as a staple found themselves on the brink of starvation. Resources were being drained. Their valuables were looted. Any who fought against the genasi were executed or enslaved, made an example of."

"But you stopped them?"

"Eventually," Halsin sighed, it obviously taking a toll on him that he couldn't save more than what he did. "I studied their movements, their tactics. At first, I would rally others behind me, wait until the genasi tried for an ambush, and attack then. But there were still too many deaths for my liking, so I went on the offensive. The locals provided me with a vessel of my own, and I sailed out into the open waters. I took the fight to them, grew more and more cocky with each ship I took down. I believed myself to be invincible, and that made me reckless."

"What happened next?" Bull asked, although he already had an idea.

"You clearly survived, though."

"I was taken prisoner. One of my attacks went exactly as I planned, but I didn't know that the genasi had others lying in wait, holding back until they saw the perfect opportunity to strike. They outnumbered me, enough so that they were able to overpower me, and that was that."

"That, I did. With me as their trophy, the band that captured me left the coastland for quite some time. About a year and a half passed, give or take a few months, but I forced myself to be patient throughout that time of servitude, difficult as it was. I earned the trust of the crew. And later, the captain.

"Then one day, I felt it. There was something stirring in the water, restless, massive in size. I could sense it, and part of me knew that it was my time to act.

"I convinced the crew that there was treasure, worthy of the gods, in some nearby wreckage. I made up a lie, said I recalled the area from my studies, and they believed me."

"You led them right into a trap," Bull said, impressed.

Halsin nodded.

"It was a kraken's territory," he explained. "A sea monster of great power and might. It rose up from its dark depths to confront us. The waters turned rough and formed a large, gaping vortex that threatened to consume us all. The winds whipped at blinding speeds. Storms formed that spewed lightning everywhere you looked. The kraken even managed to charm some of the crew into fighting under its thrall, so you can imagine how everything turned into a bloodbath from there."

"Damn." Bull released a low whistle, recalling a few stories he heard of dreadnoughts encountering an aban-ataashi —a sea dragon— while out on their patrols.

He imagined this creature must have been similar to cause so much destruction.

"Nothing against you or your skills, but I'm surprised you survived."

"You and me both," Halsin agreed. "I was so weak that I couldn't switch forms all that much at the time, but I managed to rely on some basic spells to keep me safe long enough to escape. I fought alongside the crew for a while to discourage any suspicion, but I stole one of the ship's work boats the second it was clear that the crew and the kraken were going to go down destroying each other. Through the gods' mercy alone, I managed to make it out of there. I watched both ship and kraken sink into the sea from afar, and I somehow survived until I found land once again."

"Okay, now that story deserves a drink," Bull said. "Or several. Care to share one with me?"

"In truth, I rarely imbibe," Halsin answered. "The stuff goes right to my head."

The sounds of the party returned to them then. Voices rose and fell. Squeals of delight and the clink of tankards greeted their ears.

People danced and swayed, stumbling around without a care in the world.

"Wait, really?" Bull asked, incredulous. "You're telling me that you can't hold your liquor?"

Somehow, that was even more unbelievable than him fighting a kraken.

Halsin laughed, holding his hands up in surrender.

"All I'm saying is that it won't take long before I'm breaking into song or declaring love to the first person I lay eyes on."

"Well, I mean, if you need a target to focus that energy on..." Squeezing him up against his side, Bull flexed his free arm, waggling his eyebrows at him. "I'm your guy."

"A tempting offer, I'll admit," Halsin said, admiring him openly.

"Plus, I've also been known to break into song here and there."

"Now, that, I have to see."

"Find me something stronger than the swill they serve around here," Bull challenged, "and you're on."

"Ah." As understanding dawned on him, Halsin flashed Bull a secretive smirk. "You thought that I meant that I can't handle the spirits such as those at this party." At Bull's confused look, Halsin clarified. "I keep a, uh, personal flask on hand for special occasions."

"No shit," Bull said, watching him closely, unable to keep his curiosity at bay. "You have your own recipe or what?"

"Something like that, and I have my pipe on me too, if you're interested."

"Don't have to tell me twice. Let's go make a little music, yeah?"

Amused, Halsin readily agreed.

They didn't even try to hide it as they ditched the party in favor of the surrounding forests, neither of them the type to sneak about in such a manner anyways.

They spent the rest of the night in high spirits under the stars, drinking, smoking, trading stories. And yes, singing rather terribly as well.

They fell asleep bathed in moonlight, and only when the rising sun bid them to wake did they return to camp together to discuss their next move.

[newtknewit]

Hey I love your art so much!!

Some quick questions about the cinderkin au,

1. What is Luz going to look like

2. Does every member of the hexsquad have “signature outfits”?

3. Will you be planning to make it a comic at all?

So excited to see what’s in store for thissss whhsgqqjgejw

Aaa thank you so much! Luz will remain human with a few small differences in her design just to spice things up a bit, like a slightly different hairstyle or something. I'm thinking by the end of the 'series', she would start to grow very small scales and horns, since in this AU, humans sorta absorb the magic from the isles the longer they stay there. - Which is also why Belos is gonna be very spiky and draconic, since he's been there for 400+ years. Neither of them will ever be able to grow a tail, though, which sets them aside from true cinderkin. Luz will also gain a titan form at the end, with the titans' designs being slightly more draconic than they already are. Not sure what you mean by signature outfits. If you mean their own unique outfits representing their individual selves, then yeah! Sadly the only outfit I've really done so far is Hunter's Ashen Warrior (or, Golden Guard) uniform. I have been messing around with outfits for the other characters in the meantime, but nothing has really stuck. I hope to get my butt back in shape and work on that again soon :D I doubt I'd ever have the motivation to do something as complex and high-effort as a comic, but I do really want to write a fan fic at the very least! Writing can be stressful on me too though, but hopefully by time this AU is done and ready to be written out, I'll be fine :) I don't think I've ever written this out publically before, but here's the basic plot I'm going for. Things may be subject to change, of course, as it's only a heavy WIP right now: Lilith Clawthorne, an ice-breathing cinderkin and Head of the Emperor's Dynasty, mysteriously vanishes and is pronounced dead later by the Emperor. Hunter must take Lilith's place as Dynasty Head, being in next of line. Luz, who has just arrived on The Boiling Isles a couple weeks prior, notices some odd and distressing behaviour from Eda, who feels both immense guilt for Lilith's disappearance as well as anger at the sister who had cursed her so long ago. Despite Eda's confusing emotions, Luz decides to head out in search of information about Lilith's disappearance, as the sudden-ness and silence of the situation is beginning to arouse suspicion in both her and her mentor. Her first suspect: The Ashen Warrior. From what she knows about him and his constant squabbling with Lilith according to Eda, she believes he may have had something to do with this. It doesn't help his image, either, that everyone knew he was second in line if anything were to happen to Lilith. Perhaps he was power-hungry, and murdered her for his own gain, to move up even more in the Dynasty's hierarchy. Or, is there something bigger going on here? Luz and her friends take the risk that no one else will, to find out what's really going on here.

[birdyverdie]

Hiya! Just wanted to drop by and say hi and thanks for reaching out and saying hi on my silly little post about talking about DD :,)

I love seeing all the Paracelsus enjoyers, she is the best shrimp posture doctor. <3 Do you have any personal favourite/niche headcanons for her?

Also good luck with your exams! Are you studying medicine/biomedicine? (I did a few classes a few years ago, and kudos -- it's so much material, especially the anatomy classes.) Do you have a favourite class? :o

Hi hi! :D! I put the personal stuff under a read more because by GOD can I ramble </3

Of course! I always like saying hi to people I see in the Darkest Dungeon tag! I think your art is SO lovely too!! I adore the way you draw Dismas and Reynauld!! They're so shapely in your style <3 pair that up with a Bloodborne crossover?? you're spoiling us fans fr!!

I'm a Para enjoyer first and foremost because I relate with the thirst for random medical knowledge that Para has, and also her bird motif!! (She's bird-like in my heart and soul. And I'm a bird enjoyer <3)

I have a few stray headcanons for her, mostly everything is about her scope of practice because that's where my thought process tends to stray when I study. We know that she's named after the father of toxicology, so most of her study goes into figuring out external agents effects on the human body. Though, I like to imagine her to have side interest in hematology as well! Mixing blood with a bunch of other agents seems like something she would be interested at least. (Perhaps that's how she finds out about blood types...*cough* I've been thinking about writing a Paracelsus fic about this for literal months *cough*)

This is a personal thing of mine, but I refuse to believe that Paracelsus actually believed in Humorism. I mean, the first iteration of it was basically a glorified personality test, nay horoscopes! (Yes I know that knowledge was limited back then, but alas, I'd like to imagine her scope is more experimental than observational.)

So instead I headcanon her to--if not the progenitor of Germ Theory--then at least a constituent of it. I think she and Louis Pasteur would have really fun conversations about it.

Another stray headcanon I have is that she receives the equivalent of a newspaper subscription from historical medical practitioners/researchers. So her daily newspaper could be about Edward Jenner's vaccine studies or Ferdinand Cohn's endospores. I don't care that the two of them existed 100 years apart, if we can have a 7th century BC Roman Vestal and a 14th century Plague Doctor in the same room then I can have Edward Jenner and Andrew Wakefield ("vaccines cause autism" guy) duking it out in scientific papers that Paracelsus reads like a WWE match.

Thank you for the luck fellow science enjoyer! Are you also studying medicine :0!?

Thankfully, my exam period is finally over, so I'm taking it easy with recuperating with the post-exam burnout :P And I'm a health major with a nutrition minor, but with a program path towards perfusion! My far-future end goal is to become a surgeon, but due to life circumstances I'll have to settle for perfusion for the time being :P Which I don't mind at all! I think it's such an interesting field, and a hidden hero for many cardiac surgeries! I also really like learning about the circulatory system so I think it's a little perfect ehehe :D!

My favorite class is currently Anatomy & Physiology, I have a really good professor this year, but my god It's actually a lot more complex than I thought it was gonna be while walking in. I genuinely thought it was mostly memorizing like...the bones of the skeleton and perhaps the muscles or something like that. Nahhh it takes a lot of micrology concepts too ;; Which I don't mind! But some days I'm staring at some topics like the neuromuscular junction and wishing I never knew what acetylcholine was. Though some days I do wish to return to Medical Terminology, that class was what I imagined: simple.

Thank you so much for this ask!! It was lovely talking about it!!

[bambiiboop]

Heyooo, I love all of your work!!! Low-key binge read all of it!!! I don’t know if this is like a weird or bad ask, but I really want to read a fic of Joel Miller or Din Djarin seeing the readers SH scars for the first time and asking them who did that to them or getting worried. I think this would need some sort of fluffy ending lol

I struggle with SH and just kind of want to see how you think he would react to seeing such scars.

Hello anon! This is not remotely a bad or weird ask, I’m sorry I didn’t get to it sooner. This is something that’s very very personal to me, as well. I struggled with SH and attempts for ten years. I’ll be clean four years in October. I’m sorry this isn’t as long as I wanted it to be, I got kind of emotional writing this. I hope you like it, and I hope you’re doing alright. My inbox is always open if you need someone to talk to. 💞

{ Scars }

You didn’t think anything of it when you rolled up your sleeves to prepare dinner. That the scars were there was as natural to you as anything else, your hair colour, the freckles on your arms, the shape of your nose. 

You were so used to them being there, the old ones and the not so old, some covered and some not, that they didn’t even register to you. You weren’t exactly comfortable showing them to people, though, and so usually you wore long sleeves. 

It made sense that Joel hadn’t seen them. If anything, you’d been subconsciously trying to make sure he didn’t, not so much afraid of what he might think of you, as you wanted to avoid the conversation. 

Tonight it was inevitable, as he leaned against the kitchen bench, watching you, his gaze eventually falling to your hands, your bare arms. He stopped mid sentence; he had been talking about teaching Ellie how to play guitar, how he would teach her a few old songs he liked. 

“And I thought I’d teach her Country Ro-“ 

He circled the bench, taking your hands in his, turning your arms face up so he could see the scars there. 

His first, almost foolish thought, was to ask who had done this to you; to worry that you had been tortured. But then he looked a little closer, and realised, releasing one of your wrists and almost absently touching the scar on his head, because he knew. 

“I’m not gonna ask if you’re alright, sweetheart.” He said finally, “because I know that’s a stupid question. So instead I’m gonna ask if you’re safe?” 

You took a moment to breathe before you could look up at him, forcing yourself to exhale before you nodded. 

“It’s been… a while. You probably think I’m stupid, or weak, or-“ 

He shook his head, leaned down to kiss your forehead, cutting you off. 

“I don’t. I don’t think you’re weak. I know… I know what it’s like. To have so much pain inside that you don’t know what to do with it.” 

Again his hand brushed his own scar, remembering the cool metal of the gun to his temple, the way his hand had shaken, the way he had flinched. The trail of self destruction that had followed that failed attempt. 

“I just…”

“I know.” He reassured you, releasing your other wrist so he could wrap his arms around you, holding you close. “Believe me, baby girl, I know.” 

The idea that this man, the epitome of survivor and strength, knew exactly how you felt was… calming. Reassuring. He had survived so much, had worked through so much pain and come out the other side. If he could do it… if he was there with you… perhaps… so could you. 

[snugglesquiggle]

Do you like juzi or vuzi more

i'm gonna ramble hella hard about this, sorry, but that's the bargain you strike when you shoot an ask my way

but there's a fun story to my answer. you see, V/Uzi was actually my first interest, and in fact when i started kicking around the idea of writing Murder Drones fanfics, the first idea i seriously tried to work out was a V/Uzi fic

(for the curious, general shape of the idea was that Uzi encounters V first, railgun wipes her memory, fails to befriend her like she did with N and has to run away. Uzi then sneaks out again and again, exploiting the railgun-induced amnesia and errors to try and get through to V, leading to a kind of mutual rivalry as V tries to figure out why she keeps having gaps in her memory.

pretty sure it was going to escalate to Uzi hacking into V and potentially going dubious places. the working title for that fic was "Somnabulation". which means sleep-walking, so it would have been kind of ironic for Somnabulation to be the mind control fic and Hostile Takeover the one that spends half its wordcount in memory simulations)

but i'm rambling.

i never ultimately figured out how to make the V/Uzi fic come together into something i liked. and i didn't have that much motivation to do so, as there are good V/Uzi fics out there, like This World Couldn't See Us or Hold On Tight To This Time, This Place

but, as you'll quickly discover if you search the tag now, J/Uzi fics are a lot less numerous. i did like some of what i saw there, so i didn't have a full on "if i don't do this, nobody will" kind of motivation driving me

but then one day, out of the blue, a single thought occurred to me, an observation, comparison, an answer to the question of "what could a relationship between these two possibly be based on?"

and then the whole fic just crystallized around that thought.

(what was thought? i'll leave that as an exercise for the reader, or perhaps i'll save it for a minor reveal later on in Hostile Takeover. it's not very profound, but when it occurred to me i did have the distinct feeling that i'm not sure anyone had thought of the connection i just made.)

and i want to emphasize, when i say it crystallized, i mean it seriously came together, all at once. on October 31 last year, i jotted down the outline, initially as something to post in a discord brainstorming channel, but then i spent all evening writing more and more, and came out the other end with ten thousand words of notes and scene sketches

but anyway, all of that yapping is a long way to say

at the start i preferred V/Uzi (V was my favorite character, and J barely registered as anything but a joke to me), and i began writing Hostile Takeover essentially as a writing challenge or puzzle to prove something, or even just as a practice run for the fic i really wanted to write.

but i think my phrasing here gives the game away, doesn't it? i think very few people would write nearly 160k words in four months out of mere intellectual curiosity

so to finally, finally answer your question, my favorite is J/Uzi and by a long shot. the relationship absolutely grew on me as i wrote it. i'd genuinely go as far as to say my hot take is that it's actually easier to have J/Uzi make sense than V/Uzi, if you're being truly faithful to both characters. is this because J has less character to be faithful toward? shut up.

i think the biggest factor here is that in the course of writing HT, V stopped being my favorite character. i still find her a lot of fun when i'm reading her in other fics, but writing her has just brought a lot of her flaws to the forefront, and it's hard not to be increasingly frustrated with her character. (is this self-inflicted on my part for writing a plot where V causing problems is the central driver? maybe)

but yeah, i've found myself so much less interested in V/Uzi as time goes on. one of my mutuals has describe vuzi as something to the effect of the blander, safer alternative to juzi, and don't look at me i'm just misquoting him.

[the-stove-is-divorced]

*seeing the possible nicknames: Ships and Sails* Hmmmm, uh, how about we combine them for the ultimate irony? Since you don't like shipping, how about Sailing Ships?

Have you planned out the future plot of kintsugi? Of course, nothing is set in stone and you can change it whenever but what are your plans at this point of time? I'm very curious 👀👀

Oh my goodness, this is so perfect??? It honestly has the exact kind of vibe to be a mlp pony name, and I adored that show so absolutely, yes! I am Sailing Ships, who dislikes shipping, now and forever thank you. Irony my beloved!!! (*´▽`*) ♡♡♡

And sort of! Most fics have a general point of conflict I wanna reach and/or moments I wanna build up to and write the story along the way, so 98% isn't planned, but 2% I really want to reach for. Tysm for asking btw, I love chatting about fic ideas!!! (´,,•ω•,,)♡

The main eventual conflict is that fact a) Chill/Blue doesn't want to go back together and become One Whole Bruce Wayne because this specific part of Bruce doesn't like being Batman. He's actually one of the few aspects with some actual self preservation, and simply put: it's exhausting, it feels futile, it's painful, and he's done enough. As the personification of indulgences and whims, Chill/Blue wants to indulge in the idea of retirement, putting his feet up, doing what he wants, eating what he wants, and rejecting the hard standards and restrictions Bruce puts himself on. He wants to indulge in the joys he feels he's been neglecting to be Batman, he's tired of the sacrifice and efforts it takes to maintain on a constant basis.

As you can probably guess, b) the others hate this. Hope/Gold is what made Batman and what saved Bruce from despair by giving him something to work towards, Crimson would be frustrated by the idea of doing nothing at all when he could be doing something, and Lavender couldn't stand the idea of how many people could get hurt by sitting idly by. Both Lavender and Crimson don't like Blue, and frankly wouldn't mind if he wasn't part of the Whole Bruce Wayne anymore, and while Hope can appreciate anything by nature, he isn't exactly gonna run and demand for Blue to stay. But the conflict is the all of them have to be together for the whole Bruce to come back.

And gosh, if you don't mind the ramble I love having character study types fics like these! Because it's demonstrating there is a part of Bruce that can understand he is, objectifying, overworking himself and sacrificing his own life for a meaningful cause, it's selfless for others, but arguably self destructive it taken way too far. It's not good, it's not pleasant, but when there's so many reasons to keep going, (like Hope, Lavender, and Crimson each think about), who cares about the small part of him desperate for sleep? If he has to stay in perfect shape, who cares about the craving for popcorn or ice cream he has? If he has a city to save, who cares if his spine hurts so badly, or his knees ache, or his body is still bruised? Bruce, Batman, to me, is a character who probably give anything to anyone who needs it, and yet deny himself the same generosity at the same time.

I also want moments of Blue bonding with one of the kids, or something of the like. Confessing about how much he likes heights, how much he loves the rain, being strangely, perhaps jarringly open, because he's not afraid of sharing the wrong thing, or how carefully he has to think about what to say, because words are so meaningful to him. I want to show how harsh Crimson will be with other aspects of Bruce, but loathe being that harsh with others. Stuff like that! :D

AGAIN TYSM FOR SHOWING INTEREST! I love yapping about fic ideas and fic plots and the like, teehee. (´꒳`)♡ I should have a chapter out hopefully soon????

[star1117-archives]

𝟐𝟒 𝐡𝐫𝐬 - 𝐉. 𝐘𝐇

Recommended song: Last One - Savannah Ré

❤️‍🩹 Pairing: yunho x gn!reader

❤️‍🩹 Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort + neighbour!au

❤️‍🩹 W.C: 2786

❤️‍🩹 Warning: crying, misunderstandings, good-intentioned b&e (?), y/n has a dog, y/n works at a hospital, kissing

❤️‍🩹 A/N: happy valentines !! <3 unedited brainrot, leave me be 😭

❤️‍🩹 Network: @cacaokpop-fics

© 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝟏𝟏𝟏𝟕-𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost or use my work in any way, shape or form.

To say it had been a stressful week was an understatement.

After long tiring shifts at the hospital, all you wanted to do was take a shower and perhaps go into a coma for four years. You loved your job, there was no doubt about it, but sometimes it really took a toll on you. Well, to be truthful, it always had done, just not to this extent. Months of staff shortages meant that you and your colleagues had to work longer hours then you really should be, and the funding had gone down across the departments too. Days blended into weeks, weeks blended into months and suddenly it was February once again. The dreaded season of love.

You weren’t always this pessimistic when it came to love, in fact, that cursed day used to be the highlight of the month. When you had someone to celebrate it with, it was always a magical experience. Restaurants, cinemas, long drives, you had done it all. But as work picked up and you found yourself with less and less time for your loved ones, the glamour of February didn’t last long.

Soon enough it became merely another day in the calendar, and you became bitter whenever you so much as saw a chocolate box. Love was stupid, and it didn’t last long when things got rough. Someone could swear to stay with you until you grow old and leave you the next day, that was the reality of life. Life didn’t have room for love, that was the conclusion you had come to. Life only had room for attraction and comfort, and when one of these was no longer met, the relationship was doomed.

These were the thoughts swirling in your head as you groggily climbed the stairs to your apartment, swaying from side to side, cursing whatever demon prompted you to buy an apartment on the 6th floor. Your body felt leaden, and you silently celebrated when you finally reached your floor. You quickly pushed the door open and trudged down the corridor, tutting when the lights flickered as they usually did. You’d have to call someone about that. Coming to your door after what felt like eons, you were overcome with some newfound energy as you placed the key in the lock, happy to finally relax and destress after such a busy day.

“Fancy seeing you around here.”

Or maybe not.

You turned with a small, polite smile to the door next to you, tilting your head at the tall male whilst trying to act as if he wasn’t interrupting your evening.

“Well, I do live here y’know.”

You winced slightly at the rasp to your voice, hoping your words didn’t have as much bite to them as you thought they did. Luckily, the man next door simply chuckled, leaning on his doorframe and crossing his arms with a wide smile.

“Hey, I hardly see you nowadays. Hospital ain’t overworking you, are they?”

You blushed a little, he had a point. Pulling your hand away from the lock, you followed suit and leaned on your door too, letting your eyes droop a little with a tired sigh.

“I’m gonna have to plead the fifth on that one, Yun.”

Yunho rolled his eyes, taking in your weary appearance for a second before snapping out of it and nodding his head to your apartment.

“I know you told me not to worry about it, but I took Sunny with me on my run today. I hope you don’t mind.”

You shook your head with a grateful smile, grabbing his hand and squeezing it in thanks.

“You didn’t need to do that.”

Squeezing back, Yunho let go and patted your shoulder.

“I know but I have to admit, she’s really great company. Plus, you should know I have a soft spot for golden retrievers.”

You hummed in agreement, remembering the first time you met Yunho. He had just moved in next door and practically gushed when he saw you leaving to take Sunny for a walk. He’d kept you there for a good ten minutes stroking her and asking you questions, and the two of you quickly became acquainted. Although you didn’t see each other very much, Yunho was always nice to you, feeding Sunny for you whenever you couldn’t and refusing any payment for it. He was definitely the nicest man you’d met in a long while, and it didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes either. If you had the time to stop and think, you’d definitely have a massive crush on the attractive giant living next door.

“Even if it wasn’t an entirely selfless act, thank you for your services, Sir Yunho.”

“Any time, your highness. I’m at your beck and call.”

Yunho performed an over-exaggerated bow in response, the two of you giggling quietly. Despite your best efforts however, your laughs still echoed down the hallway. When the two of you settled down, Yunho wiggled his eyebrows at you mischievously.

“So… got any plans for Valentines? I won’t have to make a noise complaint, right?”

Shocked, you hit his chest lightly as your mouth hung open from his crass comment, glaring at him in mock-annoyance while he continued his actions regardless.

“No, you most definitely will not. And fyi, Valentines is just another holiday sensationalised by capitalists to extort young hopefuls, who will eventually have their heart crushed when they realise love isn’t real. So, I’m not the biggest fan.”

Yunho stared at you with wide eyes, surprised by your words. You mentally facepalmed, he must think you’re crazy right now.

“Huh, those are some very… strong views about the holiday.”

Sighing, you conceded with a smile, opting to change the subject rather than address the elephant in the room.

“I’m guessing you’re a young hopeful then? Expecting anyone tomorrow yourself, Yun?”

Yunho shook his head in response, smile weak.

“Nah, I’m alone for this one too. Might just have a chill one at home this year.”

“Same, I’m gonna be working again so…”

Whilst both parties had tried to keep the conversation going, you had eventually lead it to a dead end, and goodbyes were now due. As much as you hated to admit it, you enjoyed talking to Yunho, and secretly hoped he’d bring up another topic for the two of you to discuss. Unfortunately, Yunho stood up straight and grabbed the corner of the door, giving you a wink before speaking.

“Enjoy your evening then, I’ll leave you to rest.”

Smiling again, you put the key in the lock and waved goodbye, your mood deflating slightly once the door shut. Sighing, you opened your own apartment door and went inside, slinging your bag onto the floor before letting yourself crash onto the sofa. Stray clothes and items lay all around you, and you winced at the thought of Yunho seeing your place in such a state. Sunny ran out from somewhere and jumped onto you, licking your face as you chuckled underneath her, your mind still somewhere else.

It shouldn’t bother you, he’s just a neighbour. Nothing more.

“If in doubt, blame it on the dog.”

You laughed to yourself once again, soon letting it peter off when you realised you were exhibiting prime examples of mental illness. Knowing you’d fall asleep if you stayed too still for much longer, especially with a walking hot water bottle like Sunny, you carefully pushed her so she’d jump down and got up, approaching the kitchen. You grimaced at the plates stacked high in the sink.

“He must think I’m a pig.”

Opening the fridge, you rifled through its contents until you found some takeaway from last week, practically tossing it into the microwave as you began to strip out of your clothes down to your underwear. It was your favourite part of the day.

Soon the metallic ding of the microwave sounded and you pulled the door open, nearly salivating at the entrancing smell. Plating up your leftovers, you sat down again on the couch and switched the news on, only half-listening as you munched away. Inevitably, the topic of Valentines came up, and you quickly finished your food and turned the tv off, ready to soak in the shower.

As the hot water cascaded over your tired, overworked muscles, you found yourself drifting away mentally. It wasn’t a new concept to you, you always tended to daydream in the shower, so it didn’t surprise you too much when you blanked out for a while. You took a while to mentally decompress the day, going through every moment in your mind as you massaged some shampoo into your hair.

You must’ve looked like a fucking dirty hobo when Yunho saw you today.

“Why does that even matter..”

You said it more like a statement than a question, not well-rested enough to do some soul searching for the next millennium. As Yunho took up more and more of your thoughts, you found yourself picturing the two of you together, cuddled close in the shower as he let you rest on him. He seemed like the type to wash your hair for you after a long day.

Catching yourself before you fell too far down the rabbit hole, you quickly washed your hair and the rest of you before climbing out and wrapping a towel around yourself. It was as if some god out there was taunting you with what you knew deep down you couldn’t have.

You picked up the hairdryer and dried your hair, brushing it as you went. Even though you’d regret staying up so late in the morning, right now it definitely felt worth it. Soon enough you had finished and unlocked the door, unsurprised to see Sunny waiting patiently for you. Giving her a few head pats, you let her trail behind you into you room, where she let herself fall into her comfy doggy bed. You slipped on some night clothes before coming back to give her a stroke.

“You’re the only Valentines I need, baby.”

And so you crawled into bed, twisting and turning for a while before falling into a deep slumber. Your dreams were full of Yunho for some inexplicable reason, yet you couldn’t exactly complain about it. A small smile had made its way onto your face when you woke up the next morning, and it stayed with you throughout the day. Even the assault of Valentines decorations wherever you turned didn’t faze you. The day went by quicker than expected, and the mountainous climb up the stairs didn’t feel as horrible as usual. When you came to your apartment, you were surprised to see Yunho’s lights were off, yet yours was on. You felt a wave of unease for a second, an indescribable horror travelling up your spine.

What if he has a date?

Wait, what do you care if he has a date. He’s just your neighbour..

Sighing, you put your key in the lock and turned it once again, disappointment confusing you with its appearance. Disappointment was soon replaced with shock however when you opened the door to your apartment, a hand coming to your mouth.

The entirety of your place had been cleaned top to bottom, practically sparkling and perfect. Candles were placed on the shelves, way out of anything flammable and/or furry’s reach. The table had been set, rose petals scattered along the top and candles also flickering on it. A box was also placed on the table, adorning a beautiful velvet bow. It was like a scene out of a movie.

Before you could even find the reaction you were looking for, Yunho came out of the kitchen with two plates and Sunny trailing behind him, almost dropping them at the sight of you. Most of his body was covered by an apron but you saw the dress shirt peeking out from underneath, also taking note of how his hair was neatly slicked back. Yunho froze like a deer in headlights, stammering like a fool as he placed the plates down and came over to you. He wrung his hands nervously.

“Oh! H-hey, Y/N… I um.. I can explain all of this.”

Inching forward, your face remained neutral as you slowly closed the distance between the two of you, the only noise breaking the silence was Sunny’s pants as she obliviously watched on. When Yunho didnt elaborate, you raised an eyebrow, your heart beating a mile a minute. This couldn’t be real, he had to be tricking you right now, playing some cruel prank.

“I’m not gonna Scooby doo this shit Yunho, what’s is all this? What is going on?”

Yunho’s cheeks tinted a dark red, unable to make eye contact. Your accusatory tone made his head droop in shame, assuming that he’d done something wrong.

“I-… I.. I um-”

The speech he’d been rehearsing for the past few hours evaporated from his brain, and there was so much he wanted to say, that he couldn’t find which one to say first. His eyes teared up as the silence only grew thicker, the tension like a heavy blanket, crushing the two of you with its weight.

“I…”

“Yunho, is this some sick joke?”

The hurt in your voice made Yunho’s head snap up, quickly shaking it as you stood a metre away from him. You were now fidgeting with your hands as you looked at him, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. Then, everything just flowed out all at once.

“I’ve… I’ve liked you for a very long time Y/N, and I like you more than I like to admit. I can’t help but smile every time I see you, I can’t help but frown when you go.”

Closing the final space between the two of you, Yunho took your hand, while you simply stared at him dumbly as he continued.

“You’re.. you just- you mean so much to me, and I wanted to show you just how much you mean to me. So maybe… you could see me as more than.. your friendly neighbour.”

You stayed awestruck as Yunho dove into his pocket, pulling out a small metal keychain in the shape of a heart.

“I know you’re not a big fan of Valentines but… I’d be honoured if you were my valentine.”

He placed it into your palm and closed it for you, his eyes searching your face for any preliminary clues to how you felt. Your lips curved as you let out a nervous chuckle, thumbing the cool surface of the heart. Tears stung the corners of your eyes, and you cupped Yunho’s cheek carefully.

“I would hardly be around.”

Yunho chuckled, tears brimming in his own eyes as he sniffled quietly.

“And I’d feed and walk Sunny for you.”

A singular tear fell down your cheek, lips beginning to quiver.

“Most days I’d be tired and practically unresponsive.”

He took your hand and interlocked fingers with you, kissing the soft back of your hand.

“And I’d make you a meal while you shower.”

Your grip on his face tightened as you moved closer to him, tears still running freely.

“I’d be pessimistic and cynical.”

He squeezed your hand softly, his smile only brightening.

“And I’d be optimistic enough for the both of us.”

You crashed your lips against his, fist still clenched around the keychain as you tasted the green apple chapstick on his lips. His arm wrapped around you, pulling you closer as he couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. Yunho’s hands roamed your body, feeling every curve and every dip. Your hand became entangled in his hair, driving him that impossible inch closer, playing with his baby hairs fondly. It was a soft and passionate embrace, the two of you having no intent of rushing it.

After a while, Yunho broke the kiss for some air, resting his forehead on yours as he breathed heavily. The two of you giggled again quietly, this time hidden away in your apartment rather than in the hallway. He then pressed another kiss to your forehead, his voice soft and velveteen as he spoke.

“No matter what you say, you won’t be able to drive me away, Y/N. You’re stuck with me for the foreseeable future, got it?”

Smiling, you nodded and pressed a kiss to one of Yunho’s soft cheeks, arms wrapping around him once again as your head rested on his chest.

“Maybe Valentines isn’t so bad after all.”

“No shit Sherlock, didn’t you see the fuckin’ dinner I made? Gordon Ramsey has been real quiet since.”

You hit Yunho’s chest and laughed again, rubbing it and giving it a kiss when he made a noise of complaint.

“You’re really something, Yun.”

❤️‍🩹 SFW Taglist !! ❤️‍🩹

@agustd-essert @hyuckilstan @a-soft-hornytiny @like-a-butterfly1026 @artemis-in-your-area @violetwinters @lynnsqueendom @galaxybambam @yunhobabygurl @multidreams-and-desires @starlightracha @deja-vux @itbecina @anpanseok @mingitheii @vilavixg @mrcarrots @the-answer-is-love-yrself @ateezbabysitters @meowmeowminnie @soft-teddybear @reaperhwa @a1sh1teruu @fantasy2wonderland @xuxibelle @dazzlingligth @simeonswhore @neocuddlytechnology @greenymar @owjohny @xye-weirdo @jwnghyuns @plutoneu @m4rsluv @anowamij @minkysmilk @softkpopplace @yeosxxx @k1ayla @jinsfavoritedoll

Apply for the taglists here -> ❤️‍🩹

[mistress-of-vos]

For the ask game Ra'sTim (yes predictable I know but I just adore how you write them to the point where I want more information)

Ra'sTim

SHIP IT!!! 💚💚💚

Okay yeah I'm very loud about them but I'm still so so happy you asked about Ra'sTim! I'd talk about them all day. This is probably gonna be long 😅

P.S. Thank you! I'm happy you enjoy my work ❤️

1. What made you ship it?

Okay this is such an easy yet complex question. I have looked back and realized I was writing past/implied Ra'sTim on my fic notebook back on 2014 (give or take) when I was newly done reading Red Robin. I'm unsure exactly *how* is started because before 2020 I had been on an extreme Transformers fixation, and my memories are fuzzy. I believe I was shipping Ra'sTim as a background ship without fully realizing I was doing it (it should also be noted I started as a KonTim religious fan, and grew into a JayTim girlie). I actually read two of my fav Ra'sTim fics back in those years (around 2014-2015), which were in Spanish, but they had a Ra'sTim portrayal that would mark my views, as the characters make the dynamic very different to the most popular ships in fanfom.

It was at the beginning of 2020 when I went back to DC, and funnily enough climbed quickly from JayTim to BruTim and started writing an ongoing fic. While doing so, I re read past fics I remembered I used to love, and went back to read comics as well. Suddenly, after reading Red Robin again, I was looking at Ra'sTim through different glasses. And it was something happening to me in many levels, as I was also getting a bit away from Kon & Jason and more into characters as Babs & Jean-Paul. I wondered what *more* there could be to Ra'sTim, and started reading more of Ra's. As I read and explored Tim in my writing, I realized I wanted them together.

I'm unsure about how to call it. The feeling was almost of enlightenment, like suddenly seeing something that has always been there yet for some reason you couldn't distinguish its shape. Perhaps being a Megatron/Starscream shipper helped, because I saw the potential of Ra'sTim and decided to explore the possibilities and their tones of gray.

At first Ra'sTim wasn't my main ship (although I was already writing it), but as I explored them, the more I felt it was a dynamic that came naturally to me, and scenarios I found more enjoyable.

The more I read their comics and explored them in my writing, the more they felt *right*. Perhaps it was meant to happen, as I can admit they fall a lot more into my tastes in fiction. Ra's as a character drives me insane with his potential and lore, and Tim stays as my favorite bat boy and who I believe changed the Batman mythos.

And yet, everything was born from a simple panel. "You are a very dangerous young man."

2. What are your favorite things about the ship?

Oh, this is a tricky one!

I like their dynamic a lot, as I'm an open immortal/mortal sucker. And that does play a huge thing in my view of them and why I come back to Ra'sTim again and again despite having other fixations. The fact that Ra's has such a complex background and is not your usual western interpretation of an immortal (let's say a vampire) is also a fav thing of mine, as I think it allows stories with him to leave usual storytelling and challenge beliefs about good & evil. The fact that he believes he's *good* and a hero is particularly tasty as well, and mixed with Tim's need for helping others and guilt when he's not useful to the world (and Batman), gives a wonderful meal.

Their size difference is extremely hot too.

Aaaaand having a canon mutual interest where they are connected in a mysterious, unavoidable way, it's a cherry on top.

Lastly, I adore their contrast as characters and how they will allow the other to win a little battle in order to win another. It's a game of cat and mouse.

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

I have unpopular opinions on most characters and ships. Some of them I feel comfortable expressing and others... Not much.

With Ra'sTim I have many of them, but mostly, it's that I loathe how other ship fandoms use Ra's as a random villain to hurt Tim and prop up another ship. For me, that's almost insulting, as Ra's is already a hurt character broken by many writers at DC. For me Ra'sTim it's never about "evil, mean Ra's hurting Tim because villains do that" and even less would I do it for another ship. I enjoy dark Ra'sTim, but never to hurt the characters.

My unpopular opinion then would be about the characters, perhaps. I don't see Ra's being cruel to Tim without reason, because in my mind, Ra's feels *love* and he cares for Tim. And Tim loves him back. They are just messy and won't communicate well, but that doesn't mean Ra's will go full evil and that Tim is a damsel in distress needing saving.

I don't see Ra's as an abuser. Neither do I see Tim as a helpless victim. And I believe this narrative hurts all characters involved without real motive besides wanting to prop up someone else and being too lazy as to read a less known villain or writing an original one.

[formerlycookierunauprompts]

I have returned! Due to an unfortunate fever (still has it), I've not been able to write a continuation, but here I am! Back at it again with Primordial Life Cookie!

Also fair disclaimer : Primordial Life Cookie uses They/Them here for the fic. Also I'm gonna use my own interpretation of the witches lore here (I haven't played ovenbreak yet sobs). And my feverish state kinda forgot how many witches exactly are there but we're just gonna go with one in honour of the Gacha Witch

Enjoy this fic I made with half-fever in one go!

***

They've watched the witches as they mix the ingredients and roll out the batter to cut it into cookie forms. They watched in fascination as the tray got filled with cookies dough and went into the burning oven. Who would have thought that something so hot and dangerous is an important piece to the creation of Cookies ?

"Are these Cookies gonna turn out like me as well ?" They asked their creators, as they fly closer to the door of the oven, trying to take a peek inside.

Their creator laughed, "Oh no, my sweet! Those are going to be for tonight's banquet"

They tilted their head, "We are having cookies...for banquets ?" They nervously asked

The witch chuckled, "Oh don't you worry yourself sweet thing. These cookies are not alive! Think of it as...," the witch hummed as they tapped on their lip, "eating an empty husk! Y'know, like what happened to the others on the same tray you were in"

They remember. They were the only one who "survived" when the witches finally managed to create the perfect batch of life powder. They remember seeing other cookies on the tray, but they don't speak, don't move, and simply...just there. Just shaped baked dough.

Perhaps it was a good thing that being re-baked with the Ultimate Dough didn't manage to erase their earliest memories.

"I-i see..." They muttered as they flew down to the counter away from the oven. "And may I ask why we are having a banquet ?

"For the gathering, of course!" The witch answered as she quickly went back to work to make another batch, "We sweets witches all gathered here once in a thousand years. And it is simply my pleasure for me to be the host of our humble reunion."

The Cookie's eyes picked with interest, they hovered above the bowl to see the making process, but not too close to disturb the witch, "There are other kinds of witches ?"

She hummed, "Witches have all the same rules and knowledge, but most based themselves on their speciality. Potion-witches, love witches, hex-witches. And so on."

The witch took a moment to crack their back—Primodial Life Cookie had gotten used to this scene— before continuing on with their baking. "Now, will you be a dear for me and help me with the batter ?"

The Cookie grinned with excitement, like a little kid who just got a free bag of candy, " Can I !?"

The witch just waved their hand to bring more ingredients and baking equipment to the table, "The banquets startin' soon and I wanna make as many cookies as possible. Just follow the recipe book over there and you'll be fine", the witch said as she took out the dough and grabbed the rolling pin.

Primordial Life Cookies quickly make their way to the recipe book and quickly get started. "Let's see... The first step is..."

Primoridal Life Cookie!!! Also I love her interaction with the witch here, and I also (most of the time at least) headcanon that the cookies at the banquet weren't alive, but it's probably easy for the living cookies to mistake them as so. Overall I love this and I hope you get better from your fever soon!!