#i am very very excited to write that au i am also trying very very hard to put all of my focus on mallrat/cwyw bc i /gotta/ finish those

[whumpedup]

WATCHED SEASON 2 ACT 3 INITIAL THOUGHTS BELOW

Pros: Jayce has a bad time during his trip through the arcane, Jayce's gorgeous black outfit, Mel's badass mage powers and gorgeous gold mage tattoos, JAYCE AND VIKTORS ARCANE LOVE CONFESSION, Ekko being awesome and adorable and badass, eldritch space Jayce and Viktor, Viktor desperately wanting Jayce to join him, Cait and Vi live (they didn't kill my lesbians thank christ), Zaun showing up at the eleventh hour in a needless but fantastic entrance, Caitlin letting Jinx go for Vi and to stop the cycle of hate

Cons: Jinx not getting to actually have a redemption without being killed needlessly at the very fucking end, Vander "dying" 4 fucking times omg let him rest jfc, Jayce's final outfit design, The face designs on the sides of Viktor's mask in his final design, Singed's dumb daughter plot they stole from another LOL character and didn't do anything with

I'm sure a lot of Jayvik people will be upset how they went out but thematically them ending hextech together like they started made a lot of sense. Also they gave me an amazing ending scene of them together so I am very pleased by this.

I am LIVID that they killed Jinx like it was the final step on their writing to do list. It was unnecessary and like the whole point of stopping her killing herself was about continuing on even when you've made mistakes and trying to make things better. And then you just have her kill herself at the end. FUCKING LIVID.

Overall I didn't like the last two episodes that much but the final fight and the end, minus Jinx, were pretty satisfying. And while I'm bummed they went the full arcane route for Viktor instead of tech I at least like some of the interesting things they did with it.

I'm very excited for all the aus that will hopefully come out of this!

(Please talk to me about Arcane, my dms and askbox are open)

[ind1c0lite]

(Basic context is that AU of Duel Desinties where the phantom impersonates Phoenix to get him found guilty of Clay's murder, I talk more under the cut abt it jkhlj)

-Basically meant to be a parallel to turnabout trump, cause if you can have ONE boss get found guilty of murder, why not a second one?

-OK basically: everything in DD happens normally until like- a day before clays murder, Phoenix gets yoinked by the phantom somehow (he is still alive, just being held captive), Phantom is still Fulbright, but they've decided to be silly goofy (target Phoenix and get him found guilty of murder, escape police custody and then murder phoenix and make it seem like Phoenix accidentally died while on the run, thats why they didn't kill phoenix right away unlike the real Fulbright) there is an imposter amo-

-I dont have the logistics as to how this affects solving Metis's murder, and how it effects what evidence is used n whatnot and turnabout for tomorrow as a whole, so im just going nuts HGJKHLJ

-Originally I was actually imagining this taking place during turnabout for tomorrow and I wanted that case to be apollo v klavier instead of phoenix and edgeworth and thats why klav is in here instead of Simon (I decided that Simon got badly injured and couldn't stand in court for the retrial, so klavier was asked to step in)

-The courtroom bombing still happens the same way it does normally, but Apollo decides to take up the case again instead of taking a leave, instead of like, you know, healing from the traumatic event that just happened, turnabout countdown still happens as well

-Apollo and Athena do not find out about the phantom's existence until well after this trial, so they have no idea that Phoenix could've possibly been replaced, though simon, after hearing about the trial, might be suspicious about whether or not that was the real Phoenix

-The Phantom had been not only keeping an eye on Simon for a while, but was also stalking Phoenix and Edgeworth after they both started looking into UR-1, so they were able to impersonate phoenix so well that not even his own daughter thought that anything was up (though while Trucy did find him a *little* bit off, but she figured that it might've been the bombing that caused him to act ever so slightly weird, so she didn't pay much mind to it until she heard about his confession in court and realized it might've been because he possibly, ya know, killed someone)

-it's pretty much just switching Athena being framed for murder with Phoenix, and instead of the trial ending on a cliffhanger, it continues on (probably with Klavier insisting on it) ending with soloman being found innocent and Phoenix being declared guilty

-There's a couple days inbetween the end of the cosmic turnabout and the start of turnabout for tomorrow, so Athena, Apollo and Trucy all get a little bit to process the fact that "oh god my boss/my dad killed someone" (simons execution date is pushed back a bit in this au) and they probably get to talk with Klavier and eventually a lil bit with Simon after he gets out

-Im not sure how it all winds down in turnabout for tomorrow (Phoenix escaping and being at large is basically the perfect cover for the phantom to resume being fulbright for that trial) but they do eventually realize that the phoenix who confessed wasn't the real one and now there's a search on going to find out where the real one is being held captive, hes fineeee just ready to take a week long nap and a good vacation (along with every other waa member)

-I dont have anything else to add on rn but if you want to add something or just throw in a scenario feel free to!! this idea has been bouncing around my head for like a month now and Im very happy to finally show yall it

[chatxkilluaxnoir]

I have Gravity Falls and Etc. fic(s) idea(s)

Which, I am going to write now while I am having this fic idea (probably going to be a short one, but in the future I might make a revised expanded version or something. Who knows).

I actually have multiple Gravity Falls and GF TAU and Reverse Falls and etc. stuff that stems from this specific The Book of Bill thing.

Specifically stuff exploring Dipper's nightmares.

(I have some other ideas for the other dreams and/or nightmares too. Sometimes even in relation to Dipper's in some way).

I love my boy, and his nightmares hurt my heart.

But also because I love him, I want to explore even more of issues/trauma/suffering and/or to do Dipper angst. And etc.

Because I want both happiness and/or suffering for my faves/the characters I love very much.

Like Dipper.

So he is going to be getting even more of that from me, probably.

Because he is great and I love him.

[kingxgarm]

Who wants to read my Wof x Tsams au prophecy!?

I told you I would write it eventually

BTW, the story's name is Talons of Stars

Let me know if you wanna read it when I get the prologue done

Prophecy

Four dragons have a story unlike any other. Four dragons, the story of brothers.

One born of Ice, the Sea, and Night, forced to run and hide, chased before the smite.

The next born of Night, Sky, and Sand, left alone to never understand.

The third born of Sand, Sky, and Rain, cursed forever to cause and feel pain.

The youngest born of the Sea, Ice, and Silk, shall always run, but never bilk.

The fight for the stars will never be done.

The story of familial betrayal has begun…

These dragons will hold the stars in their talons, but the question is… which one?

[lostyesterday]

Writing fanfiction for the first time in several years of exclusively writing original fiction feels weird. I’m not used to worrying about being consistent with canon world-building and making the characters’ voices sound close to canon.

[sexynetra]

i tried to rb your grandekofi snippet earlier and i don’t think it worked so i’m here to scream it directly at you :) i love you i love it so far and i am obsessed with the thought of smitten dame. and the whole bit you posted actually (it’s very good)

if you are so inclined i would like to devour another sentence (if you have another you’d care to share) (woah. rhyming on accident how fun) <3

Hi my darling I am so glad you enjoyed it 🥺 dame is SO smitten she is a mess 🥰 I’m gonna work on it more this week for sure I’m excited about this premise! (Also I love you toooooo)

Have a little mini segment as a treat <3:

She couldn’t be blamed, is the thing. Anyone with half a brain would fall in love with Tia. How could they not? Tia was sweet and funny and so, so beautiful.

[wildberryjams]

Hello ♡ It's been a while!

It's been over a year I think? I haven't kept track tbqh

I'm not really back, because I want to be noncommittal as possible (since I have a tendency to disappear when my motivation to write does)

But this is me saying that I'm finally working on under the rose again! ♡

I'd all but abandoned it months ago, but yesterday I had a burst of energy and managed to write a couple hundred words. Tonight, the total is 1300. It's not much, but it's a start!

I don't talk about my personal life for many reasons, but this year has been one of the most difficult I've ever experienced. The last thing on my mind has been Will and Azul, as much as I wish they'd kept occupying every inch of it like they used to.

That spark is coming back, I think! ♡ (More in the tags since this is getting long)

[chitsangenthusiast]

7, 9, and 11 for the ask game!!

hehehe more late responses to old ask games <3

7. What is your favorite scene you’ve written so far? ok i know this is going to make this answer a long one but i've gotta include the intro scene to my zukka novel's fic 'in time's arrow' <333 i enjoyed imagining and writing it so much that it's actually one of the reasons why i'm choosing to blend this fic with my mortician/marine bio au <3333

Fiddling with the frayed strings on his raincoat, Sokka frowned as he peered into the water. Salmon-eels don’t usually stray this far out into the bay. They’re river fish, shoals of glistening silver better suited for the rocky streams back home. For one to hobble out into open water alone, misshapen and streaked the color of wood grain, meant it had to be sick. If it got caught in his dad’s net then it could infect the other fish, and Sokka couldn’t let something like that happen, not on his very first fishing trip. He watched it like a penguin-hawk; in one moment he was tracking the salmon-eel from one end of the boat to the other, in the next— The ocean swallowed him like it was welcoming him home. Later, after he was pulled out by frantic hands that soothed his shuddering chest and layered him in thick blankets, Sokka sat curled up in the warmth of his Gran-Gran’s arms. She rocked him, gentle like the bay before its waters grew greedy, and as she petted at his drying hair she hummed to him of many things. There are animals that can live both on land and in the water, she’d said, and she listed all the ones she knew. There are accounts of more fantastical things that dwelled far deeper, and she described them. Ordinary people have also journeyed into those waters, she murmured. In her stories, sometimes they were even transformed anew. Sokka listened to them all, and though he stayed quiet and his eyelids grew heavy, his teeth still dug into the meat of his bottom lip and chewed until it stung. Because no matter how long he waited, none of those stories held what he had seen as he sank, a beast with squirming, midnight bright skin that stole away the blue of the water, a mouth full of raging colors, and mighty tusks that nicked his palm and made him bleed a drop of shimmering blue.

9. What is your favorite dialogue you’ve written so far? lmfao i'm trying to be fresh with these answers to not say things i've likely talked abt in the past, so i just reread the beginning half of mallrat chpt 4 and can i just use all of that as my answer. bc boy howdy do i love writing silly 'everyone pick on sokka' convos <3

but if not, then i do enjoy this bit from gold in the air of summer:

“I’m about to make it a rule that no one’s allowed to describe anything as just a shiny version of a regular color,” Toph complains lightly. As expected, Zuko radiates pure frustration, and it makes her grin at how easy it is to do that. “Don’t give me that! It does!” “Do better,” is all she says in response. Zuko makes a loud sound of irritation and barrels forward. “Gold looks warm, and a lot of people in my nation think gold is an honor to the sun because they’re the same color. Although you can’t actually look at the sun the same way you can at gold—uhm,” Zuko stumbles in his explanation, and any stubborn tenacity he had gathered disappears completely. He lets out an explosive sigh, and Toph hears him move to dart up from his spot in the sand. “Whatever, I’m not going to sit here and explain it when I can just show you. I’ll just get something from inside, there’s plenty to bend in there.” “Zuko’s eyes are gold,” Sokka says, simply and clearly enough to cut through all of Zuko’s aggravation and shock him into stunned silence.

11. What scene are you most hyped for this chapter/fic? lmaoo an answer special just for you: the 'come when you want' 5+1 nsfw has some good ol' war paint, glove, and mask play bc again, indulging yourself is the key to life <33

[lit-in-thy-heart]

what's your favourite fic that you've written? (Or, I suppose a scene from a fic that you're particularly proud of?) (although saying that so much of your fic is top tier 🩵🩵🩵)

hello anon!! this ask made me 🥺🥺, thank you so much for dropping it in my inbox <3

my favourite fic that i've written... this is actually more difficult than i thought, as there are some that were hell to write but i'm really pleased with how it turned out, and some that are not absolute masterpieces but i had so much fun writing them. and the one that's a mix of all of the above (as contradictory as it may seem) hasn't even been finished and posted yet lmao. i think, overall, my favourite that i've posted is we left the book of love signed in blood on every page, which looks at the breakdown of gwaine and merlin following lancelot's death. i enjoy writing angst like that and i also had fun with the sustained imagery

but in terms of a scene that i'm particularly proud of, the moment in bitter is the antidote where gwaine begins to relax around lancelot and both of them are pressed close to each other and reaching out to merlin is one that i'm quite proud of. the full scene is below the cut and i enjoyed trying to depict the hesitancy on both gwaine's and lancelot's parts. also i really like the line 'so he let his tea go cold and his shoulder grow numb' but i couldn't tell you exactly why

thanks for the ask anon, hope you have a wonderful day! 💜

Lancelot had one hand buried in Merlin’s hair again, twisting the short strands between his fingers, knees pressed against the bed. Hesitantly, Gwaine hovered on Lancelot’s left side before sinking down to the floor, one leg strewn out beneath the bed. His hand reached for the one Merlin had draped over the edge of the bed, taking it between his fingers and, upon receiving murmured permission, gingerly leaned against Lancelot’s leg. He was aware of the bone pressing into his shoulder, just as he was aware of Merlin’s grip tightening around him, but it didn’t scare him half as much as it should have done.

Never, never had Gwaine thought that he would be so close to two others when all three of them were conscious. Never had he thought he would be confronted with the knowledge of his best friend having magic, either, and Gwaine couldn’t help but wonder what other unexpected things fate had in store for him. He didn’t dare move, in case it all proved to be an illusion and the slightest twitch dispelled it. So he let his tea go cold and his shoulder grow numb, let his abdominal muscles ache with the effort of not allowing all of his weight to fall on Lancelot’s leg and his hand be manipulated by Merlin’s touch.

Merlin, assured by their physical presence, had closed his eyes and Gwaine took the opportunity to use his gaze to sketch out the angles of Merlin’s body in his mind, safe in the knowledge that Lancelot couldn’t see his face. Before, he’d been convinced that he’d successfully memorised each dip in Merlin’s form in the same way that he’d memorised the placement of his own gaping traps in woods over the years. He’d thought that he’d be able to sculpt Merlin flawlessly from ribbons of clouds and wind. But, as Merlin shifted and the tip of what looked like an old scar peered over the neck of his shirt, Gwaine realised just how wrong he’d been. It was a blessing that the hand not holding Merlin’s was engaged with a cold cup of tea because Gwaine could feel temptation running its fingers along his arm, leaving a trail that ended at Merlin’s chest.

The skin looked leathery, much like Merlin’s burned leg, and, if it had been fire… Just how many times had Merlin narrowly escaped the flames? How much of himself had he kept protected from Gwaine with a clumsy cut of material tied around his throat? Dropping his gaze to his right hand, Gwaine pushed one side of it into the bed, careful not to squash Merlin’s hand. He was one to talk.

Faintly aware of a subtle movement behind him, Gwaine rotated his head by several degrees, glancing over his shoulder and through his hair. Lancelot was no longer holding the cup in one hand – if Gwaine shifted his hip, he’d knock against it on the ground – and the hand was now hovering above Gwaine’s shoulder. Gwaine began to phrase a silent question but cut himself off as he reached an answer; it seemed that Lancelot was reluctant to place his hand in his own lap for fear of elbowing Gwaine in the head.

Returning to look straight ahead, Gwaine raised his left hand and took his little finger away from the cup, hooking it around the tip of Lancelot’s middle finger. Careful not to spill his drink, Gwaine slowly lowered his hand, taking Lancelot’s with him, until Lancelot’s palm met his shoulder. As Gwaine rested his own hand on his thigh, Lancelot made port with his thumb at the muscle between Gwaine’s shoulder and neck. It was then that Gwaine registered that, in leaning against Lancelot, his jacket had slipped a little off his shoulders and had dragged the neck of his shirt down with it.

Most of Lancelot’s hand was planted firmly over Gwaine’s shirt, his wrist grazing the collar of the jacket, but his thumb was on that muscle – a muscle bearing layers of tension that Gwaine hadn’t even been aware of – and his index finger was dangling over Gwaine’s collarbone. And then Lancelot began to sweep his thumb back and forth along that single muscle, collecting the tension in Gwaine’s shoulder like a bee picking up pollen, and Gwaine couldn’t hold himself up any longer.

[longing4yesterday]

i've been such a mess lately but thank you guys for the abundance of support lately <3 i really appreciate it

[malkaviian]

i hate the weird spot i have been when it comes about writing for the past months

[junkissed]

goodnight n go (teaser)

member — fwb!vernon x reader genre — smut, angst, non-idol au teaser word count — 1.7k full fic word count — 10.2k synopsis — you keep coming back for more, but every night ends the same. maybe this time things will be different. warnings — mentions of alcohol, drunk sex, car sex, guitarist!vernon, rock band!hhu, no physical descriptions of reader, vernon is afraid of commitment. this is a teaser and the final fic will have a happy ending !! notes — before you ask, yes this is based on the ariana song lol but also inspired by black eye because it's been stuck in my head the past few days. as always, thanks to @onlymingyus for reading over this for me <3 i'm still on hiatus and requests are closed but i randomly had inspiration to write something for vernon so i hope you enjoy! i am planning on writing more for this story, but i'm back at uni and my time is already quite limited, so i'll try to write more when i can! reblogs, comments, and asks are super appreciated, it means a lot and helps me keep writing so please lmk if you liked it :)

“hey, you wanna get drinks tonight?”

as usual, that’s how it starts.

you probably should have said no. you’d played this game before. you knew exactly what hansol meant when he offered to hang out after band practice, because it was never just “hanging out”.

you don’t even know why you still go to practices anymore. for a long time you’d avoided them; it wasn’t really your style, and you were never interested in being a groupie for their local gigs. your roommate seungcheol always invited you to every practice, and every time you declined with the excuse of homework or other plans, but cheol finally convinced you to come just one time.

at first, it had been because he wanted you to hear a new song they were working on and he’d wanted to know how you liked it before they played it at an upcoming show. but then he’d introduced you to the rest of his bandmates, and after that there was no going back.

you couldn’t help the way your eyes always gravitated towards hansol, who insisted that you call him his real name instead of his stage name that everyone else called him. from the very first practice, you were captivated by him: the way his long fingers seem to dance along the neck of his guitar so effortlessly, the way his voice rasps when he sings, the way your breath catches in your throat when he grips the microphone stand and rolls his head back, lips parted in ecstasy.

he’s addictive, and it’s exactly the reason why you find yourself in the backseat of his car over and over again.

every time, it was easy to pretend that things would be different. you’d walk into the bar together and sit at the table in the back, order a few drinks, chat for a while about nothing. did you like the new stuff we played tonight? yeah, i know cheol is really excited to perform it saturday. you been doing any writing lately? mmm, a little. i’ve been feeling inspired. we could go back to my place and i could show you. except he never does.

hansol wasn’t a bad guy. he always paid for your drinks no matter how many times you offered to pick up the tab, he was polite, he listened to what you had to say. he just didn’t want more than that, and that’s where it all fell apart. you’d screw around for a while, then you’d part ways and wouldn’t speak to each other until next week. you never went to see them play shows, he never texted, you never called, never went on a real date besides meeting in the same bar down the street every thursday night after practice.

he seemed fine with that. you weren’t. and yet every time, you ended up back in his arms.

he groans into your mouth, pushing his hips into you and pinning you harder against the faded leather seats of his old honda. his lips are sloppy but eager, messily pressing his mouth into yours as his fingers tangle in the hair at the base of your neck. you can taste the beer and smoke on his breath, but for some reason it doesn’t bother you. maybe you’re used to it, or maybe it’s just because it’s him. you don’t want to know which reason is the truth.

he kisses you until you’re dizzy, and you can’t tell if it’s from the alcohol or from the thrill of kissing him once again. it’s a high you’re convinced you’ll never get tired of, although you’re not quite sure yet if it’s one that he will.

hansol always lets you set the pace, but tonight he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself. both of your shirts met the floor of his car what seems like hours ago, leaving you in just your pants as he makes out with you as if it’s the first and last time he’ll get that chance. his fingers breeze over your waist the same way they breeze over his guitar strings when he plays: careful yet greedy, each touch intentional yet impulsive as he grips your waist.

he drags his fingers higher and it sends a shiver down your spine, arching your hips up against him and rolling your head back against the seat’s headrest. if there’s only one upside to this relationship, it’s that he’s good at this. really good. if he weren’t, then you wouldn’t have spent so many nights letting him fuck you in the parking lot of your shitty local bar. it does something for your confidence knowing that he must feel the same about you, or else he wouldn’t keep inviting you out. at the very least, this arrangement is mutual, even if you wish it wasn’t.

his hips rock against your crotch again, and even through both of your clothes you can feel how hard he is. your mind is clouded, everything’s a haze, and all you can think about is how badly you want him. the warmth of his skin, the gentle scratch of his nails on the back of your neck, his long eyelashes that flutter against your cheek as he kisses you.

you feel your hands slide haphazardly down his bare chest, fumbling over his hips as you tug on the waistband of his jeans. none of it feels graceful, not like the way he handles his music. it’s sloppy, desperate, clumsy, and it’s everything you need right now.

he manages to lean back from you enough to undo his pants and push them down to his knees, but his mouth is back on yours in an instant. somehow you end up on your back across the seats, gazing up at him with slack lips as his thin silver chain dangles over your face. you might not remember a lot of what happens on these nights when you’re with him, but you’ll always remember this moment. him hovering above you with heavily lidded eyes, biting his lip and cursing as he pushes into you, is etched into your mind in a way you simultaneously love and hate. love because it feels so good, hate because it never lasts.

the rest of those nights never stands out in your memory. you remember feeling good, you remember trembling in his arms and gasping and moaning and crying in pleasure, but the images are too fuzzy to make out. you don’t really need to reflect on them anyway; you know he’ll just bring you out next week and do it all over again.

hansol kisses you once more after you’re both finally spent, but the kisses afterwards are always different. more… hesitant, more uncertain. none of the passion and desperation that you’ve come to crave from him. not what you really want.

“i can drive you home,” he offers once he’s finished cleaning you up. for once you think he might genuinely mean it, but you can never be sure enough to take that chance. you want him to drive you home. god, you want him to so bad. to have him come over with you and stay the night, stay another night and another until your apartment isn’t just yours anymore, that’s what you’ve wanted all this time. and it’s what you’ll never have.

“i’ll call an uber,” you answer.

“i’ll wait with you, then.”

the silence that settles over his car is heavy as you climb back into the front passenger seat. you want to tell him to get in the uber with you, stay more than just a couple hours with you in the furthest back corner of the bar parking lot that’s too far to be illuminated by streetlights. you want to argue that he’s too drunk even to drive himself, that he needs to come home with you and sleep it off together in the comfort of your bed, but you know it’s not true and it won’t work. this is a conversation you’ve had many times before. every night you’ve spent with him blurs into the next, always the same. 

sometimes you want to laugh at how naive you are, for thinking he’d eventually come to his senses and realize there’s more to you than a good lay before a gig. sometimes you want to grab him and shake him by the shoulders and tell him to grow the fuck up, give him an ultimatum and make him tell you what he wants from you or else put an end to it all. sometimes you just want to cry, to mourn your wasted time when you’re fully aware it’s never going to lead to something more, no matter how badly you want it and how hard you try.

no matter how many times you get your hopes up, no matter how many times you pray and beg and plead with god and the universe and every other higher power to get him to realize this can’t keep going on the way it is forever, nothing ever changes. you’re never going to stop running to him when he calls, and he’s never going to stop calling.

finally another car pulls into the lot, and you manage to pull yourself out of his car. you hear your name behind you and you stumble, swaying on your feet as he rolls down his window.

maybe this time will be different.

he says his usual goodbyes and goodnights, flashing you a loose grin and a wave as his engine sputters to life, and he asks if you’re planning on coming to practice next week. 

and you find yourself nodding.

you’re left standing there, your head and your heart pounding, watching his headlights fade as he drives away, until you’ve stood there for so long that your ride starts honking and calling for you to get in the car so you can leave.

maybe next time will be different.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

if you want to be notified when i post a new fic, you can join my taglist here!

taglist — located in the replies

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

“…cannot give you your proper rites,” comes a distant voice from down the path before them, and Arthur slows on instinct, drawing his glintstone staff back to his side, waiting for his companion’s description. 

“There’s a man,” he begins, which he had assumed. “A knight, I think. Clad in gold armor and a red cloak that seem to have been taken care of much better than those of the other knights we’ve run into.” (“But at least you did not join those…”) “He’s holding something to his chest with one hand, and the other is on the hilt of a sword that’s nearly as tall as he is. Something is… strange about it, like it’s not one solid piece of metal.” (“…who live in death…”)“He hasn’t noticed us yet. He’s looking down at something…” (“…your soul will return to the Erdtree, in time.”) “…Oh. It’s a body. Someone who’s been cut down by some kind of slashing weapon. Not his sword, the cuts are too shallow. Something smaller, nimbler.” 

Arthur recognizes the words, and the tone, he slips into next. It’s a common prayer, more of a formality than anything. A reflex for the faithful like saying bless you when someone sneezes. “Honeyed rays of gold, deliver this spirit.” 

He’s been very slowly making his way closer, and now he judges it close enough to call out and greet him, now that he seems to be done speaking. “Trouble on the road?” 

The acoustics of his voice shift as he, presumably, looks up at him. “Hail, traveler. If you’re aiming to cross to Caelid, then heed my warning, and find another route. The village here has been touched by death. And, worse yet, it is home to a mariner. If you value your life, then go no further.” 

“We’ve been aiming for the Third Church, actually.” Maybe he can get directions. “I think I may have gotten a bit turned around, though. Don’t suppose you know if I’m going the right way?” 

There’s a thoughtful pause, during which time his companion speaks up again. 

“Arthur, his armor…” there’s a note of fascination to his voice. “I was wrong earlier, it’s not just gold. It’s both gold and silver intertwined, styled as though two completely different sets have been melded together. The thing he’s holding to his chest—I think it’s a head, sculpted into the breastplate, that he’s cradling. There are a set of arms, too, one silver and one gold, to match his gauntlets—like twin figures are embracing. It’s almost more of a work of art than a suit of armor. His sword is the same, that’s why it looked so strange. As if two greatswords have been braided together.“ 

Another moment passes before the knight speaks. “Well, the Third Church is roughly that way,” (“He’s pointing—south, I think”) “but it’s a bit of a climb, and I don’t know that there’s an easy way down from where we are now. There used to be another church through this village, on the Caelid border—the Church of the Maiden, if memory serves—but when the rot took it, the Redmanes tried to burn it out, and, well. It’s been little more than a shelter for vagabonds and Tarnished-hunters ever since.” 

“That’s a shame,” he says, because it seems like the correct response. 

“Aye, it seems like more and more are going the same way, these days. Like what happened to Callu. I don’t suppose you’re coming up from there?” Not entirely sure what he means, he just shakes his head. “Ah. Well, anyway. The Third Church has good people, though. I’m sure you’ll find what you’re looking for there.” 

“I… certainly hope so. Though not anytime soon, I suppose,” he huffs a sigh, resigned, “since it sounds like you just told me I’ll have to turn around.” 

“Unless you want to take your chances with the cliffs. Though… the slope does get much easier on the other side of the village, I think.” 

“The village you just warned me not to go near.” 

“Well, if you’re headed for the church, circling all the way back to the other road is going to be quite a walk. Seems a shame to make you go all that way.” He audibly hesitates for a moment, inhales. “If you go around the tree line to the north, you should be able to avoid drawing too much notice. I can accompany you, just in case one or two of the dead have wandered too far.” 

“Oh, I don’t want to impose–” 

“You’re not, really. I need to observe things inside a bit more before I make my move, anyway. We may as well walk together.” 

He’s instinctively suspicious, but the knight seems… genuinely friendly. And given that his companion hasn’t noted any southward turnoffs from the road anytime recently, he’s likely not kidding about it being quite a walk to take the other route. “Well. If you’re sure, I suppose I’m in no spot to refuse you.” 

His companion speaks up in time with the sound of footsteps in grass. “He’s walking away. He’s lifted his sword up and hefted it onto his shoulder, where it’s ready to swing down at the first sign of a threat. He handles it easily, as if it doesn’t weigh ten pounds. I don’t know about this, Arthur. I don’t think we can trust him.” 

“What? Why not?” 

“I don’t know, but–“ 

A distant voice interrupts. “Changed your mind?” 

“No! Sorry, just—uh, yes, coming.” As he starts to walk in the direction of the footsteps, he continues, more quietly, “Look, it’s not as if we’re letting him lead us to some remote location, or anything. It’ll be short, and then we’ll be parting ways again. Okay?” 

“I still think we should turn around.” 

“Well, you’re not the one who has to walk all that way. I would rather take my chances here than backtrack.” 

He sighs in response, but falls silent as they catch up, recognizing that Arthur can’t chance much conversation this close to another person. 

The quiet is allowed to rest, for a moment, as they walk. If the knight notices the way he allows his glintstone staff to trail just ahead of him, testing the ground, he doesn’t find it odd enough to comment on. Arthur can feel the cool of the trees around them, but the sounds of the forest are few and far between. To the left is the familiar rush of the ocean, identifiable even echoing from a distance. There’s a much nearer and gentler lap of water to his right, in the direction that the road would have taken them, had they followed it. Accompanying it is… a low noise, a single wavering note, as of, perhaps, some sort of horn. 

“This isn’t much of a forest,” his companion begins to narrate. “The cliff edges aren’t far left, and in the other direction, the village is still in view. It’s certainly seen better days. It’s lying in a slight depression in the earth, in a few inches of muddy water, as if rain has pooled around it. The buildings are stone, and all of them seem to be slowly collapsing and sinking into the mire. I can see some movement within. Things that look human, but… aren’t.” He wants to ask what he means by that, or how he can tell, but he’s also aware of the potential eavesdropper walking just ahead of him. “Sometimes, when we pass a break in the trees and buildings just right, I can see… something glowing, at the village center. But never for long enough to make out what it is. It casts an eerie violet light on everything around it.” 

He hums, enough of a noise to tell his companion that he’s absorbed the information. 

“I don’t think I’ve introduced myself yet,” the knight breaks the silence. “I’m known as D. I hunt Those Who Live in Death, and weed their deathroot. There’s an ill omen hanging over this village, and I’ve come to cleanse it.” 

“Hence why you’re… observing it, I take it. I’m, ah, Arthur. Arthur Lester. Not much of anything besides a traveler, at the moment.” He still doesn’t see much point in lying about his name. The likelihood of anyone here knowing him is very low. “How long has it been…” gestures towards the general direction of the village, hoping he makes it look natural. “Like this?” 

“Well, depends what you mean by like this, I suppose. The village has laid abandoned for some time, but only recently did that mariner show up to claim its territory.” 

“That’s the second time he’s said that. Mariner. I don’t think he’s talking about a normal sailor,” his companion muses. 

And Arthur’s also curious at the way he says it, as if it’s some monstrosity that needs no introduction, so he himself speaks up. “The… mariner.” 

“Ancient grave keepers, touched by deathroot. Once upon a time, they would have been the guides and gatekeepers for the dead. Now, they can only spread their sickness and keep others from their rightful return to the roots.” A note of scorn—disgust, maybe—enters his voice. 

“Rightful return,” he repeats, a little derisive, before he can stop himself. “Seems a bit hypocritical, considering the state of us Tarnished.” 

D snorts. “That’s hardly the same. You and I still have our souls—proof of that, we’re standing here talking to each other. Those who live in death are soulless beings, with no minds left to them. Cursed to wander, dragging the living down to share in their fate. Like what nearly happened to the poor bastard back there.” (“He’s gesturing back towards where we came. At the dead body, probably.”) “Mark me. They’re naught but vermin to be exterminated. Their mere existence sullies the sanctity of the Golden Order.” 

“I thought the aim of the Order’s laws was to explain the workings of the world,” he points out dryly. “Seems a bit of a cop-out to just—deem something outside their principles.” 

“Arthur, what are you doing,” his companion hisses behind his eyes, “stop provoking him. He clearly cares about this, and he’s got a huge fucking sword.” Which is a fair point. He really should shut up. 

But instead of getting angry, the knight just chuckles. “You don’t hold your tongue, do you? You sound just like an old friend of mine. Bet you two would get along quite well. Well, you may be right. Truth be told, I’m no scholar. All I know is, when something of yours goes rotten, you’ve got a responsibility to cut it out. And the spread of deathroot is as rotten as they come.” 

“…I’m sorry,” now he’s feeling a little regret for snapping. “I don’t mean to… deny your beliefs, or anything, I simply… spoke without thinking. And I’m hardly in a place to talk; this isn’t even a subject I’m familiar with.” 

“For your own sake, I hope it stays that way. Those who live in death should be left well alone. Unless you mean to hunt them, and that… is not a path to be trod lightly.” His tongue clicks softly. “Though I sense you’re not the type who can simply let things go, eh? My friend was the same way. Had it in his head that there was some deeper plot at work, was determined to get to the bottom of it.” The footsteps in grass slow to a halt, and Arthur slows with them. “You said you were a traveler? If you ever encounter a sorcerer by the name of Rogier, you let him know that D tells him to take care of himself.” 

He recognizes the emotion in D’s voice. Genuine concern under a layer of forced casual calm. The voice of someone worried for his friend, but with very little space to direct that worry. It’s so very familiar, pulls at something in the back of his mind, and he finds his heart aches. So, equally genuine, he says, “I’ll be sure to pass it on, if I get the chance.” 

His companion speaks up. “We’ve broken the tree line, and I think I can see the gentler way down he was referring to. We might be in the clear.” 

Nodding to himself, he adds, “Thank you for taking me this far, really. Best of luck with your, ah… hunt.” 

“Much appreciated. Best of luck with wherever your travels take you, after the church.” 

He’s expecting that to be their parting words, and starts off down the grassy slope himself—but D calls something back to him, over his shoulder, that makes him stop. 

“I’m sorry about your eyes, by the way.” 

“My—eyes?” He turns around. 

“I hope the people at the church can give you some relief. Seems an awful way to go, is all.” 

With that, before Arthur can think of any way to stop him, his footsteps turn away back towards the village, leaving him behind to wonder at his meaning. 

The new mind welcomes them in easily. His memories catch like paper, burning down to golden embers in a matter of moments. Smoke chokes out his thoughts, and it seems for a moment as though he, like all the other despairing souls they have brought to roost over the centuries, would simply become one with the flame. No more to divide or distinguish. May chaos take the—

—hmm? 

There is a memory here that does not come alight at the merest touch. Its paper-thin edges are damp, somehow, and the heat of the flames cannot seem to dry them. Rather, when they reach out, their own edges sizzle and pop, and they are forced to recoil. 

No matter. Some things are difficult to relinquish, they understand; still, they will aid this ailing soul. They gather themselves, reach forward again—and are… stopped. As though snagged by the back of the collective collar. 

The mind is resisting. 

Not this one, comes a low whisper from the darkness beyond the embers of memory. The rest of them, you can have. Burn them all away, do what you will. But I cannot give this one up. 

The embers of frenzy do not understand. Cannot understand. This memory is etched deep, yes, but it is painful. The flame offers simple and beautiful release. Why would he resist? Why will he not let them take this pain away? 

That would be taking the easy way out. 

Of course. Is that not what he wants? To let go? For things to be easy? They know the outlines of this mind, the defeat that consumes it. It is a mind that welcomed the flames to make their home inside. He called to them. On the edge of life and death he sang to them, and they came for him. Now he would turn them away? 

No. No. He called to them; he is theirs now. They will not abide hesitation. They move to gather their strength again. 

The hands that had caught them intensify. Gather them up and pull them back, heedless of the flames. 

I said, he hisses, no. 

They struggle, now, confused and afraid and at war with their own internality. They cannot be conflicted. They are as one. And yet, and yet—

Yes, it hurts! Of course it damn well hurts! If it didn’t, I wouldn’t care what you did with it! Now he is incensed, voice growing hot to meet their measure. You’ve already gone and burned the rest, haven’t you! 

But not this. His voice softens. They know this tone, soaked in sorrow and guilt. Usually it catches quick as oil. But now, once again, their flame is stifled, as if tossing water on the pyre. I’m the only one left who remembers this. I might be the only one left who remembers her at all, at this point. If I let go… no. No. I will carry this with me as long as I live, and I will not let you take it. 

Now. 

Get the fuck out of my head. 

He pushes them down. Things solidify around them. Sights and sounds that they cannot make sense of in the scarce few moments before—his hands break the surface of the water and they are being smothered. 

They are in a basin and the water is all around them and they cannot evaporate it quicker than it eats away at them. They kick and writhe and snap and crackle and still they drown. 

Under the hissing sounds of their dying flames, they think, for a moment, they hear the faint notes of a piano. And then they hear nothing at all. 

—

With the scraping of metal against rock, the body stirs. 

“Ah,” purrs a low voice, “hello, friend. I was starting to get concerned when you—“ 

“What the fuck,” the other man gasps, as if he hadn’t even spoken. He lurches to a sitting position and his hands fly up to his face. The source of the metal scraping becomes immediately clear. “What—the fuck, why is it so fucking hot in here–“  

“Slow down a moment, you—“ 

“Fucking get it off!” His hands scrabble at the edges of the iron mask encasing his head. It was clearly not made to be easily removed. “Too—fucking hot. Fuck. Off.” 

“Stop that!” the other voice snaps, the remainder of the soothing hum draining out of it entirely. “You’re going to break your neck if you keep that up—“ 

“Then stop talking and fucking help me!” He’s gasping for breath, and starting to sway in a concerning manner. "I can't– I–"

“There’s a knife!” Finally, he says something that gets him to actually stop and listen. Slightly calmer, he continues, “There’s a knife next to your left hand. You should be able to use it to pry the mask off. Other left. No—for fuck’s sake be careful, try not to stab yourself—“ 

“You do it, if you’re so concerned,” he mutters, too focused on the task to even think about the retort much. Finally he manages to find the seam that holds the mask together, and gasps again, this time in relief, as it clatters to the ground in two pieces. 

The interior of the mask is warped, as if from extreme heat. The other voice decides not to point this out. 

“Fuck, that’s better. Okay. Give me a second.” He lies back down on the ground, enjoying the chill of the stone. “Wh… hah. Right. Perhaps we ought to… start over? …Friend?” 

“Oh, so you did hear me the first time.” 

“Yes. I was just—a bit preoccupied thinking I was going to suffocate in—whatever the hell that was, on my face. So. Sorry.” 

“It looks like a prisoner’s mask,” he offers. “Why you’re wearing it, I’m not entirely sure, since this doesn’t look like a prison.” 

“Yes, where are we, anyhow?” He blinks at the wall, debating the benefits of trying to get up. “And—who are you? And… how can you see our surroundings when I can’t?” 

“I… don’t know.” 

“Ah. Which… which question are you answering, there?” 

There’s a pause, and then a resigned sigh. “…All of them.” 

[syoddeye]

reading recs

received an anon the other day that requested fic recs of all ratings, here's a big list of some of my favorites! definitely not exhaustive, definitely forgot people, and i am so sorry in advance for that. please mind the tags on these fics.

SNAFU by @adnauseum11

I've posted about SNAFU before. This is one of my comfort series. Excellent characterization of a retired John Price, navigating a relationship with one of his oldest friends.

Heavy Weighs the Crown by @sentientcave

Newer series, very yummy so far. I love Charlie's characterization of the 141 in this universe, and their writing is delectable.

Rugby AU by @sentientcave

Another banger from Charlie. Reader Ripper is also yummy. Something to snack on. To quote: "I don't know anything about Rugby tbh this is just vibes and thots. Something somethin elaborate rituals."

Nobody by @391780

My gateway fic into Nikto. Without giving anything away, every chapter sends me into a short spiral. The most recent chapters have done heinous (affectionate) things to my brain.

Ursa Major by @the-californicationist

Have you ever been to Alaska? Ever wanted to visit? Honestly, read this fic and let Cali transport you there. Her ability to set the scene and bring it to life is un-fucking-matched. Doc (Reader) is a smart, confident reader-insert that feels like a real person.

Binders and Boyfriends by @pfhwrittes

Trans 141 and Trans Reader supremacy. Another comfort series from the wonderful Parker. Everything listed here is wonderful, but I have a major soft spot for P's Gaz-centric works.

Housemate!Gaz by @pfhwrittes

First, in this house, we hate Reader's roommate. Second, we are Widget fans. Third, could you fucking imagine opening the door and your new roommate was Kyle motherfucking Garrick? I'd faint.

Call of The Jurassic by @stuffireadandenjoy

Another newer series that put me on the edge of my seat. When I first saw that Tats was giving us my favorite fellas and putting them in Jurassic Park, ooooooh, I knew we were going to be spoiled rotten.

Wrong Number Right Day by @stuffireadandenjoy

"Kyle gets a wrong number text but decides to be a little generous that day." Reader's living the dream. Text Kyle Garrick and get cash money for rent? Very excited for more of this.

Price of Pegging by @gemmahale

Pegging and John Price. I could stop there, but I won't. Gemma nails the depiction of a submissive Captain Price. She also captures the dynamic of a couple trying something new extremely well, that gave me some fluffy feelings.

All of Gemma’s WIPs by @gemmahale

I've had the absolute privilege to read some previews of Gemma's work and the WORK and the DETAIL and the CHARACTERS are chef's kiss. Delicious. It's so difficult to pick just one. I love the Feywilds. Useful Girl. Call of the Wild. Do yourself a favor and spend some time in the tags.

Offer Me His Hunger by @kaadaaan

Something about a 141-er and a single mom that's gonna do it for me every time. In Offer Me His Hunger, it's Johnny, and Reader has no idea what she's in for. Jesus Christ, Kadan writes one of my favorite Johnnys, and really nails that obsessive and calculating streak.

The Space in Between by @391780

You will laugh, you will cry, you will love and hate mafia boss!John Price. Reader crosses paths with John and the 141, and gets caught in their wake. Early writes some of the best Reader characters of all time, and this one's no different. This story will get under your skin so fast, in the best way.

The Arrangement by @391780

Speaking of Early, this is THE gateway drug to her work, in my humble opinion. One of the first COD fics I ever read and converted me into being a Price girlie. Sugar Daddy Price x a cute, smart, and fucking funny Reader. Also one of my favorite characterizations of Simon of all time.

Club 141 by @greatstormcat

BDSM and the 141 make a Sy very happy. Reader starts off with a fake ass dom and is quickly properly introduced to BDSM culture with the fellas. Really solid group dynamics. Make sure you read that Price x Ghost post for a good fucking time.

Lamb to the Slaughter by @ohbo-ohno

Probably one of my favorite Ghoap fics of all time. The way my jaw was on the floor for the majority of this should've sent me to the emergency room. It's brutal, it's horrifying, and fuck me running, I loved it, start to finish.

The Pit by @peachesofteal

First, the nightmare of getting into an accident in the winter. Second, having Ghost and Soap find you. Oh boy, The Pit is peak Ghoap manipulation. When I got to the end, I just sat in silence. Stunned. It was amazing.

Eyes Wide, Tongue Tied by tippytulip (if you're on here, pls lmk!)

Another early COD fic for me. A thrill ride with a whip-smart Reader AND it's set in the Midwest. Those are two ways into my heart. The relationship between Reader and Price isn't an easy one, and he gives her a dozen and a half reasons to dislike him. Another ride of a fic, with great action scenes and group dynamics.

Trapper, Keeper by @tinypandacakes

A König fic that makes me screech no less than ten times per chapter. Panda writes a fucking scary König and it blows my mind. So much of it is subtle and manipulative, with few outright (so far, it's ongoing!) examples. I get a knot in my stomach every time I read and I LOVE IT.

DOG by Danceofthesevenveils

Another König fic that features a pathetic loser König, who is also one of the scariest motherfuckers I've ever read. The use of text messages underscores the creepy vibes, and a great vehicle for the Reader x König dynamic early on.

Desire Paths by @ceilidho

Manipulative best friend Johnny, you are iconic to me. Ceilidh writes some of the best nasty Johnny fic out there, but Desire Paths has my heart. Another ending that had me gasping.

Take Me Home, Country Road by @ceilidho

Cowboy Price, take me awayyyyyy. A fantastic Western AU focused on a Reader with a secret and a Sheriff Price that'll make you sit up straighter. Ceilidh captures John's voice so clearly, I can hear it when I read. That porch scene is seared into my brain in the best way.

Tender is the Flesh by @crashtestbunny

Do you like scary Simon? Do you like feeling unsettling and turned on? *slams table* Do I have the fic for you! Connie's butcher!Simon makes my blood run both hot and cold. "Oh she’s a stunner." lives in my head rent free. Also the apron tie bit.

Pornstar!AU by @shotmrmiller

Warning, if you don't smoke, you might start after reading Toni's porn AU. I love this depiction of Ghost, his control and his care. AND there's a threesome bit with Ghost x Reader x Price. It's what dreams are made of.

[yuyusuyu]

the return of the princess treatment chronicles ?!

synopsis. mingi loves that you treat him like a princess, really, he does! hey, he means it! he really likes it! however... he's a tad bit sad that he's the only one getting flustered by such actions while you're basking in pride of your affect on him. which is why he must show you the power of the princess treatment himself! little does he know that you, his sweets, also have a very special list...

pairing. bf! song mingi x fem! reader

genres/au. fluff, romance, comedy, established relationship, non idol au, (implied) college au

warnings. couple stuff (kissing, hugging, etc.), cursing, teasing, mentions of alcohol (and alcohol consumption), a guy being weird 💀, yunho has. a weird goofy and all knowing moment (i will not elaborate on this).

rating. mature (alcohol consumption)

wc. 3.4k

part 1 here !

a/n. my last work of the year ! how exciting~~ i hope you all like the long awaited part two of the princess treatment chronicles !! not proofread... again... lol...

reblogs and comments are appreciated as it helps with not getting shadowbanned !

MINGI looks down at you, eyes narrowed as he tries to gauge your expression, while you happily hum. he wants to ask you if you feel uncomfortable, holding his hand while he has his arm thrown over your shoulder, instead he asks the opposite.

"be honest," he says, his tongue darting out to lick his lips while your gaze flickers up to him, trying to see him through the worn edges of mingi’s hoodie, before going back to what's in front of you. "do you know about the list?"

"what list?" you ask, a brow raised at him. you push the door open to the bar and walk in after he does. "oh!" gasping, you grin at him, entwining your hands. "are you talking about the poems you have in your notes app?"

mingi gapes at you, ears turning bright red and his cheeks matching the color. "what? no!"

"oh," you blink at him. "well, that's the only thing i've read on your phone. which reminds me…" stopping before you reach your usual table, you wiggle your eyebrows at him, lips tugged to form a lopsided smile. "who are you writing those love poems about, hm? are they about me, loverboy?"

scrunching his nose, mingi leans down and bumps his forehead with your own, eyes darting over every feature on your face. you quiet down, the words you wanted to say getting caught in the back of your throat at the intensity of your boyfriend's gaze. with a low hum, a small smile breaks out on his lips. “and what if they are about you, hm?”

your eyes widen in a comedic manner, face feeling unbearably hot as you gently push him away. mingi laughs wholeheartedly at your flustered reaction, following after you as you hurriedly slide into the same booth as yunho's, who stares between you and mingi with an eyebrow cocked. mingi shrugs, taking a seat next to you and effectively sandwiching you between him and the other giant in your trio.

“what's got you looking like that?” yunho asks, blinking as his hand reaches out to grab a fry from the tray he ordered not too long ago.

“mingi,” you mumble, reaching out and grabbing a handful of fries, popping one into your mouth and chewing slowly. “by the way, he’s acting weird.”

“he’s always weird,” yunho replies, deadpanning. mingi leans over to whack the back of the blond’s head, emitting a whine from him.

“am not,” mingi huffs, eyes narrowed down at yunho. naturally, he throws his arm around you, his hand playing with material covering your shoulder. “by the way, did you tell her about the list?”

completely ignoring his question, yunho turns his attention towards you. “you know about the list?”

“what list?” you ask, exasperation laced in your voice. “the only list i know about is the one filled with love poems he dedicates to me.”

“you know about that, too?” yunho looks over at mingi. “dude, you are so bad at hiding stuff from yn.”

“what list are you guys talking about?” you look between both of your best friends, pouting.

“nothing!” mingi says, attempting to distract you from the conversation at hand by peppering your face with kisses.

it works.

when mingi pulls away and you stop giggling, you feel heart pick up its pace with the pretty smile mingi wears, eyes forming crescents as he looks at you. he presses one last kiss on your nose, nuzzling his head into your cheek before standing up, whispering about how he’ll go get you something to drink.

once mingi is gone, you abruptly twist around and pinch yunho’s arm, holding the skin in between your fingers while he whines. in the midst of yunho trying to swat your hand away, you lower your voice, “did you tell him about the list?”

with a successful smack to your hand, your best friend huffs and raises a brow, lips slightly pursed. “and why would i tell him about that?”

“it’s just,” your gaze flickers over to your boyfriend, watching him talk with the bartender, “i… you know…”

yunho hums, “it’s important. i know… i wouldn’t tell him about it, you know that.”

“yeah… yeah,” you nod, “you’re right.”

“what’s he right about this time, sweets?” mingi slides in next to you, handing you a beer bottle. his arm goes to rest around you again, his fingers mindlessly playing with your hair. 

with a scoff, you reply. “that he’s weird.”

“i am not weird,” yunho throws you a dirty glare, emitting a shout of protest as he steals your beer. “and you can’t drink.”

while yunho sticks his tongue out at you, momentarily distracted, mingi reaches out and grabs the beer from him. “i’ll drink my girlfriend’s beer, thank you very much.”

you take the bottle from mingi and take a swig from it, mumbling how you’ll drink it yourself. yunho bites back the grin that wants to appear on his lips, noticing the flustered expression on your face while mingi simply laughs and tells you to give it to him if you don’t want to finish it.

oh, you are so smitten and mingi is so going to complete that list of yours.

HOW TO MAKE Y/N FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU: BE HONEST (BECAUSE I HATE LYING PEOPLE! YOU CAN THANK MY EX BOYFRIEND FOR THIS! AND ME FOR ADVISING HER TO ADD THIS —JEONG YUNHO, HER BEST FRIEND)

yunho’s note at the end of your writing makes your lips curl upwards, a soft chuckle leaving them. with a finger running down the expanse of the worn out page of your old physics notebook, you close it and push it back into your bookshelf just as the door swings open. mingi walks into your room, shoulders sagging as his feet drag against the wooden floor. you huff through your nose, turning around and opening your arms to which he falls into them, groaning in relief as his form hunches over you to dig his nose into the crook of your neck.

“rough day?” you ask, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck before you flatten your palm and thread your fingers through his hair, surprised that his hair is damp. he probably came over as soon as he finished taking a shower and changed into his pjs. “don’t you feel uncomfortable?”

“yes and no,” he mumbles. “yes: rough day at work today. too busy. no: i don’t feel uncomfortable. you’re like, the most comfortable person ever. i like hugging you, you know? oh, and you’re also—”

“baby,” pushing him back by the shoulders, mingi pouts at you, making you giggle. “you’re rambling.”

“i like rambling,” he blurts out, “just with you, though. i don’t like doing that with others.” his fingers absentmindedly rub figures into your hip.

snorting in amusement, you bring him into a hug and feel him let out a content sigh. “you’re awfully honest today, mings. it’s a,” trailing off, you grin, eyes twinkling in mischief, “...stark contrast to your usual boy cries wolf self.”

mingi clicks his tongue tiredly, “yeah, well, i don’t have to be like that with you. i’m just plain ol’ song mingi with you. hey, can i stay the night? i like sleeping with you.”

you hum, rolling your eyes in a playful manner, trying to ignore the fuzziness of your mind. the male grumbles something incoherent, and he grabs your hand afterwards to pull you towards your bed, basically tugging you to fall into it with him. mingi lifts himself up slightly to pull down the duvet, making you do the same before he’s already pushing it back up, snaking his arms around you and pulling you closer to him with a grunt. “you need a new bed.”

“no i don’t,” you laugh.

“yes, you do. it’s too tiny for the both of us.”

he’s right—his feet always peek out from the end of the bed.

“you’re awfully honest today.”

“just because i can be myself with you,” he mumbles into your hair, his grip around your waist tightening. “it’s not tiring to talk with you. i don’t have to pretend to be someone else. like with my coworkers! so tiring...”

“is that so…”

you’re met with soft snores coming from your boyfriend and the sound of your heart pounding in your ears.

HOW TO MAKE Y/N FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU: BE YOURSELF! (DON’T PRETEND TO BE SOMEONE YOU’RE NOT! THANK MY EX BOYFRIEND FOR THIS AND ME FOR TELLING HER TO ADD THIS —YUNHO)

mingi grabs your hand and brings them up to his lips, brushing them against the skin of the back and letting your entwined fingers fall back between the two of you, swinging it idly. “why are you nervous, sweets?”

“why wouldn’t i be nervous is the real question here,” you say, glancing up at mingi. with a small sigh, you continue, “i just want your family to like me, mingi.”

he grabs you by the shoulders, twisting you so that you stand in front of him and tugging you into a hug. as he rocks both of you from side-to-side, he laughs quietly, “don’t worry, yn. they’ll like you just as much as i do. my mom is going to love you right off the bat.”

“and how do you know that?” you question, tilting your head up.

mingi scratches his cheek in a sheepish manner, “i, um, talk about you to her a lot.”

the front door of his mom’s place opens, his mom smiling widely at the sight of you and her son staring at her with wide eyes. you can tell she wants to tease the both of you but resists the urge to do so, instead ushering you two inside, apologizing for having you guys stand outside in the cold for so long. and just like that, as soon as you take off your shoes and hand your coat over to mingi, you’re whisked away by his mom and sat next to his aunt where you end up laughing to the point of tears at the stories they tell you of mingi’s childhood.

“one time, i was sick and i don’t really like chicken soup, so mingi tried making me a vegetable soup and even made a dance called ‘the veggie get better soon’ dance.”

you laugh in disbelief, “auntie, you're joking right?”

mingi’s mom shakes her head, laughing along with you. “now why would i lie about that? oh, does he still have that habit of needing to sleep with something?”

“yes. i’m his victim.”

“oh sweetie… good luck.”

his mom and aunt start talking about something else that you should, in theory, pay attention to. however, your favorite person's laugh fills the air and effectively grabs your attention. mingi sits on the couch by the door, playing with his baby cousins while the older one tells him something you can’t quite hear. but you watch as mingi throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut and his smile trembling from how hard he’s laughing, his body shaking.

“oh,” his mom lets out a content sigh, smiling fondly.

you peer over at her. “he hasn’t changed one bit, i see.”

and you think you can agree with her—that mingi hasn't changed one bit since you met him. your heart aches and silently hopes that he never does change.

HOW TO MAKE Y/N FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU: TREAT HER RIGHT! (I SWEAR IF I END UP DATING ANOTHER DICKWAD I WILL CRY! AND I WILL PERSONALLY CRY WITH HER! —YUNHO)

yunho talks about something that just happened to him, taking a sip from his red party cup and wincing at the pungent taste of horribly mixed alcohol. he mumbles something to his best pal, but it doesn't quite meet mingi’s ears. you see, he is a little occupied with keeping an eye an you, who had left his side earlier to greet some of your friends at the small party being held by one of his friends. when you were ready to go back to his side, some stinky guy decided to keep you from doing just that. he watches with a stoic expression as the guy continuously shimmies closer to you, a frown soon etched onto his lips when he notices the way your polite smile wavers and your eye twitches just the tiniest bit.

you’re annoyed. and rightfully so! he would be annoyed too if some person were to keep him from going back to you!

so he walks over, jaw tensing when he hears something he should never hear.

“why are you acting like such an ass? i’m just trying to ask you out—”

mingi silently grabs onto the back of the shorter male’s collar, pulling him back just enough for him to glower down at him. “apologize to her.” he’s surprised at how he, oddly, sounds calm when anger is bubbling in his chest right now.

the guy rolls his eyes. “why should i? and who the hell are you?”

“her boyfriend,” he barks out a chuckle, leaning down to be at eye level with him, “and i don’t like the way you just treated her. apologize to her while i’m asking nicely.”

the storm that rages inside him calms down, your touch lulling him back to you. mingi glances back at you, your skin hot against his. he lets go of the guy roughly, barely acknowledging the way he stumbles away as quickly as possible. with his hands cupping your cheeks gently, he tilts your head to the side, eyebrows pinched together in worry. “sweets, are you okay? are you feeling sick? you feel really warm—”

that’s because he’s doing quite the number on your heart right now and you’re not sure what to do with the growing feeling in your chest, the one that you’re so afraid of after the last fiasco that was your previous relationship.

this calls for a guidance meeting with yunho soon!

HOW TO MAKE Y/N FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU: BE THERE FOR HER! (I WILL PROPOSE TO YOU ON THE SPOT! SHE REALLY WILL! —YUNHO)

“you’re in love with him,” yunho shrugs.

you gawk at how easily he said that. “i—well, i’m not sure if he feels the same way!”

your best friend gives you a pointed look. “are you blind or something?”

“what the hell is that supposed to mean?” you scowl, crossing your arms over your chest.

“only a fool wouldn’t be able to see how much mingi loves you… so i guess that makes you a fool, yn!” 

your conversation from earlier replays itself in your mind. you can’t believe yunho just… said that to you and left afterwards to deal with your brain melting down all by yourself. now you lay in your bed, curled into yourself while you hear the clock in your living room tick and tick and tick away, the sound making time feel like it’s on a loop.

with a frustrated sigh, you screw your eyes shut and grab a pillow from behind you, moving it to the front so that you can hug it while you contemplate the meaning of your existence and the heavy weight of yunho’s words in your mind. but then you hear your front door open and close, followed by some shuffling.

“dear robber,” you shout, “i’m a poor, poor student that just graduated. i’m literally so broke right now, so i suggest you make yourself a meal in my kitchen before heading out.” the door to your room creaks open; you squint an eye open, seeing mingi lean against the doorframe. “aren’t you supposed to be on your way to work?”

“yunho told me you were feeling down, so i got someone to cover my shift under the excuse that i have a stupid fever.” he hums, pushing himself towards you. kneeling down in front of you, mingi brushes some of your hair away from your face.

curse yunho for opening his big mouth.

you make a mental note to yourself that you will be having a talk with that man before shaking your head, merely stretching your arms out and making grabby hands at your boyfriend. he chuckles, shedding his glasses off and putting them on your nightstand, sliding in beside you as you scoot over to make more space for him. you let out a content sigh, resting your head on his chest where you can easily hear the steady beating of his heart. you melt in his arms, your worries washed away as soon as he wraps an arm around your waist.

it’s silent for a minute.

or maybe less than that.

“you need a bigger bed. it’s too small for the two of us.”

snorting, you hit his back softly. “no i don’t.”

“...but you do.”

you laugh this time, and mingi triumphantly smiles because he knows that whatever had you down in the dumps is now gone from your mind, the sign of your shoulders relaxed is a tell tale sign that he’s doing a pretty good job at making you feel at ease right now.

HOW TO MAKE Y/N FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU: SAY THE L WORD TO HER FIRST (BECAUSE I WILL NEVER AGAIN SAY IT FIRST! YOU CAN THANK MY EX FOR THAT! FUCK THAT GUY, NO ONE LIKES HIM! —YUNHO)

celebrating the day that is gift giving, christmas, on the twentieth with yunho and mingi became a tradition as soon as you three started college. it is a tradition that, a year after graduation, won’t ever change. so you’re sitting on the ground in front of the small tree in yunho’s apartment, a couple of presents littering the ground around it which makes for a pretty funny sight, if you do say so yourself. mingi sits to your left, giggling as he tries grabbing the presents that are tagged as his while yunho gets up with the goal of making hot chocolate for you guys to drink before the clock strikes twelve.

only because his goal is to get you two alone in hopes that mingi says he loves you first… but you don’t have to know that and neither does mingi!

you slap mingi’s hands away as he tries tearing the wrapping paper from one of the smaller gifts in his pile. he whines and pouts, rubbing his hand. “i can’t believe you just hurt me.”

“that’s on you,” you say, sticking your tongue out at him.

it happens out of the blue: mingi leans over and shoves the hood of one of his stolen hoodies over your head. you yelp in surprise and try swatting his hand away while he laughs, only for him to let out a noise, something between a yelp and a high pitched squeal, as he somehow ends up toppling over you. groaning, you manage to remove his hand from the hoodie and pull it back, narrowing your eyes up at mingi. he ignores the look on your face, his hand slowly finding itself touching your nose, your cheek and then your mouth, his thumb running over the expanse of your bottom lip softly. you watch him intently, your chest rising and falling quickly.

“you’re really pretty,” he mumbles, replacing his thumb in favor of brushing his lips against yours in a brief kiss. instead of pulling away, he says something else—something that has you tearing up. “you’re pretty inside, too. you have the most beautiful soul ever… one of the reasons why i love you so much. more than you’ll ever know, i think.”

the corners of his lips tug upwards to a form a pretty grin while he wipes the tears that fall from your eyes. “why are you crying, yn?”

“because i love you and i thought…” you clear your throat, “i thought that you didn’t feel the same way…”

“and i told her that she was a fool,” yunho pipes up, placing the two cups of hot chocolate on the table. “but i told you that mingi loves you and you didn’t want to listen to me.”

scoffing, you take off the antler headband from mingi’s head and throw at it yunho. he raises an unamused brow as it flies past his head and hits the wall. “...really?” he looks into the distance. “hey, author! i think it’s my turn to have—”

“what the hell is he going on about?” mingi whispers to you. you both sit up and watch your crazy best friend talk to the air in front of him, waving his arms every once in a while like a madman.

with a grimace, you reply. “i don’t know… do you want to knock him out and see if that does anything to him?”

“...yeah, i think i’ll do that.”

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[sillygoofyqueer]

Hi, I had some questions about the crowyuan au. What do the other heavenly demons think about him? Like Zhuzhi-lang and tianlang-jun, I was imagining the antics tianlang-jun would get up to in teasing sy, and how maybe Zzl would bond with sy over being part heavenly demon part animal demon. I love this au so much and I would love to add even more heavenly demons into the mix. Actually I wonder if zzl and sy would not get along, because crows and snakes kill each other in nature. Either way, ideas for thought. Thank you so much for making this au I love it so much!!

Herlo herlo there!!! Firstly, I'm so so glad that you like this AU, crowyuan anon brought it to me and I think we just spiralled from there - honestly, I've just started posting about it very recently again, but not a day went by that I wasn't thinking about it. And OH MY GOD, THIS KIND OF QUESTION IS THE ONE I LOVE. I LOVE WRITING ABOUT REACTIONS. TEEHEHEHEHEHE. THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!! Let's DO THIS!!!! Tianlang-Jun: This fucking guy would come back from being trapped under the mountain, hear about a 'corvid king' and just immediately go snoop around. He disappears for a couple of years and the corvids have gotten their shit together enough to have a KING now??? He meets Shen Yuan and he is violently excited the moment he spots a FELLOW heavenly demon that reads his favourite genre - even if it is just to trash it!! He gets the best recommendations off the demon, and he also gets so much entertainment from watching all of the corvid demons n yao stumble over one another to try and woo SY. If TLJ so much as mentions the courting methods of the corvids, SY goes a delightful shade of red that TLJ cannot help but find inherently amusing. Not only that, but SY is cunning and intelligent! Although he spends most of his time dallying in the human realm, TLJ was emperor of the demon realm for a reason, and finding a likeminded individual who has positively delightful tactics to deal with irritating flies is nothing but exciting in TLJ's eyes. Zhuzhi-Lang: I am psychotic over the idea that most of the time, these two are completely chill with one another, with Zhuzhi-Lang getting hit with the wifebeam and being in awe of the doting that Shen Yuan drops onto him without any expectations in return!! However. There's just a tiny, itty bitty amount of time where one of them trips up and succumbs to their more feral instincts - SY snatches up something shiny without thinking, ZZL steals a small bit of prey that SY had been gunning for - and they just fucking BRAWL. Of course, with how demons court and flirt, ZZL is like "ohmygodohmygodohmygod we're fighting!!" and TLJ is in the background like "damn, go off nephew!!! Look at you go, you slutty slutty snake" (/j). Meanwhile, SY's mindset is just "MYfuckingshinystupidsnakewhenIfuckinggetyou", even after he is reminded of the courting methods because he can't heeelp itt!!! (let me know if you want other ((non-heavenly)) demons' reactions to this little freak (((/aff))))