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magnagaruzenmon · 2 days ago

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Happy Ending

A little something silly for our fantasy/ dnd lover fans

The barbarian paladin approached the Temple of Bovara with an injured gait that was more limp than strut. He was bruised, bloodied, and smelled like scorched leather and dragon breath. In short: it had been a week.

He needed healing. Maybe some holy milk despite the rumors . Possibly a divine intervention. But mostly—he needed her.

The temple doors loomed large, carved with sunbursts, sacred vines, and a suspicious number of lovingly detailed cow thighs. Diablos shoved them open with one massive hand and immediately inhaled the rich perfume of the place: roses, honey, and something thick and sweet that always clung to the back of his throat. Like cream. Or sin.

And there she was.

At the altar, a whirlwind in white and gold silk, her horns peeking through dark hair in two perfectly askew buns. The cleric was humming—humming—as she tried to stack jars of milk higher than seemed advisable. One fell. She caught it. Barely.

“Momo,” he said softly.

She turned, bright-eyed. Her whole face lit up like he was a birthday cake and she was two glasses of wine deep.

“Diablos!” she chirped. “Oh no—you look like you got stomped by a wyvern.”

“Elder dragon,” he muttered.

Her nose wrinkled. “Ugh. You know I hate when you fight those.”

“You hate that I make you worry,” he rumbled.

“No, I hate that you keep ruining your hot dumb body.” She stalked over, hands immediately on his chest, glowing faintly. “Honestly, you need a leash.”

“I’m open to that,” he said, giving her a crooked grin. “But I thought your goddess was more into ropes.”

She flushed—hard—and smacked his chest with a glowing palm. “Inside. Now.”

He saluted and trudged into the private healing chamber, shedding weapons like a molting dragon. Axe, sword, rifle, hand cannon. She followed with a loud sigh, scooping up a small bomb he accidentally left on a pillow. “Why do you even have this?”

“Backup smiting,” he said, already shirtless.

The chamber was steamy, fragrant with rose milk and divine aphrodisiacs. Soft cushions lined the floor, and a mural of Bovara loomed over everything—bare, bountiful, and mid-moo.

Diablos tilted his head. “Why does your goddess always look like she’s halfway to climax?”

“Because she is,” Momo said sweetly, pulling off her robes like she was unwrapping a birthday present. Her body—lush, strong, and holy in the most profane ways—was barely contained by a golden bra and matching panties.

She straddled him without hesitation, glass of milk in one hand, glowing fingers already pressing to his side. “Drink.”

Despite the rumors he heard of tit turning people into horny Holstaurs against their will He took it and downed it in one go. Warm. Creamy. Definitely sacred. Maybe cursed. He didn’t care. If it turned him into a rutting bull man, well… Momo would take responsibility.

Probably.

He let out a long sigh as he laid back, his body groaning like an old cathedral. “I think I’m starting to understand the whole joy part of your religion.”

“You’ll feel very joyful soon,” she teased, her hands glowing as they trailed across his skin, lingering here, squeezing there. “Bovara’s blessings come with… side effects.”

“What like having a gorgeous woman massage you?”

“Among other things,” she murmured, tracing a wound with her thumb and leaning over him. “This one’s nasty.”

“So’s my crush on you.”

She snorted—actually snorted—before slapping his chest again. “You are the worst.”

“You say that,” he whispered, “but your eyes say otherwise.”

She flushed again, lips twitching.

“Do you want kiss me better?” he asked.

“I have to,” she said solemnly. “It’s divine doctrine. Holiness by osmosis.”

Their eyes locked. A long beat.

Then she leaned in, pressing her lips softly to his chest. “Blessed be,” she whispered, and watched as the wound mended under the glowing light.

Diablos sighed again, this time much deeper. His breathing slowed, the tension finally bleeding out of him under her touch. Her magic pulsed warm and steady, flowing from her palms into his wounds—and something else, too. Something older. Richer.

She looked up, expecting a sarcastic remark. But his eyes were closed. His breath had evened out.

He was asleep.

Momo blinked. “…Wow. Most people don’t pass out after seeing my boobs.”

She glanced up at the mural of Bovara.

“Don’t you dare do something weird while he’s unconscious.”

The mural’s eyes sparkled.

“Oh, no.”

At first, there was only warmth.

Then came the smell of clover. Sweet grass. Milk warmed by sun. And the slow, sensual tolling of cowbells in the distance.

Diablos blinked.

He was no longer in the temple.

He stood barefoot in a golden field, waist-deep in tall grass that shimmered with pink and silver under an impossible twilight sky. The clouds were shaped like hearts. The moon had udders. Somewhere, a flute played what could only be described as erotically pastoral jazz.

“…oh gods. Not again.”

He turned.

She stood at the edge of a hill, radiant and curvaceous, bathed in sunlight that moved like silk. Her horns curled elegantly above her head, her robes flowed like cream, and her eyes sparkled with divine mischief.

Bovara.

The Cow Goddess of Fertility, Joy, Creation… and, evidently, really weird dreams.

“You’ve been drinking my milk again, haven’t you?” she said, walking toward him, each step jiggling with celestial intention.

“I was bleeding. Momo told me to,” Diablos grunted.

“Oh, I love that little cleric of mine,” Bovara cooed, circling him slowly. “So faithful. So bouncy. And she keeps giving you my gifts without reading the fine print. Tsk.”

“I’m not turning into a cow am I?”

“No, no, well kinda… you have embraced my teachings and knowledge in ways few others have. You handled it beautifully. This is a little different.”

He stiffened. “Define ‘different.’”

Bovara leaned in, her voice like honeyed cream poured over a temple bell. “You see, you’ve got dragon blood. Fiery, ancient, stubborn. Combine that with my blessing, and… well.” She snapped her fingers.

A shock ran through Diablos’s spine. He gasped, stumbling, as his muscles swelled and reshaped, his skin taking on a faint sheen of gold. horns grew, curling outward like a bull’s, thick and heavy. His breathing hitched—hot and ragged—as something primordial woke up in his chest and groin both.

His hands flexed. His back arched. And behind him, a thick tail with a tuft of fur and scales whipped out like it had always been there.

“What… what did you do to me?” he moaned, his voice deeper, rougher, vibrating with heat and hunger.

“I blessed you, Diablos,” Bovara purred, stepping behind him and pressing her hands against his now broadened back. “I made you whole. The bull. The dragon. The stud.”

He staggered forward, falling to his knees as the pressure built in his body—every nerve alight, every muscle burning with desire, need, the sacred urge to mate, claim, breed.

“You’ll be back to normal soon,” she added sweetly. “But for now… you’re going to feel exactly what it means to be mine. To be hers.”

His eyes flared open—red and glowing.

“Hers?” he growled, panting. “You mean—?”

“Oh yes,” Bovara giggled, walking away, the sky rippling behind her with a wink. “Momo. She’s the only other holstaur in reach. You will find her.”

Diablos collapsed onto all fours, his breath heaving. Every part of him ached with strength. With arousal. With purpose.

“Bovara…” he groaned, clawing at the earth. “This feels like cheating.”

“No, darling,” came her fading voice on the wind. “This is courtship.”

Diablos stirred on the cushions, his chest rising with a slow, labored breath.

Then, like thunder cracking in a velvet sky, he jolted upright—eyes snapping open, crimson and molten.

“Momo,” he gasped, voice hoarse like a lover’s prayer.

The cleric flinched, dropping the healing crystal she’d been holding. It clattered to the floor with a sharp ping. “You’re awake? Finally! I swear, if you moo one more weird thing in your slee—”

Her words died on her tongue.

Because he was changing.

Right before her wide, unblinking eyes, the barbarian paladin she’d healed, and secretly longed for—grew.

His muscles bulged with supernatural strength, the curve of his back rippling with both dragon’s heat and something… bovine. Fur bristled across his shoulders and thighs. His feet—hooves now—dug into the soft temple rug with impatient weight. Thick, glinting scales danced across his arms and chest in streaks of gold and ember-red.

And then—

Horns.

Massive. Curved. Crown-like.

His eyes flared, glowing with lust and power. A heavy tail lashed behind him—furred, twitching, insistent.

“Oh my Bovara,” Momo whispered, stunned. “What happened to you?”

Diablos looked at her—and it was like the last thread of restraint in the cosmos snapped.

He stared like a starving man stumbling into paradise. Like every silent wish and fevered fantasy had been answered and placed in front of him in one glorious, curvy, horned package.

Momo stepped back slowly, breath catching. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He opened his mouth to speak.

What came out was a low, guttural moo that vibrated through the air like thunder in a heatwave.

Then, barely intelligible through the need, came a gravel-thick growl:

“You’re… a holstaur.” He panted. “I… need… to—**moo—**to mate!”

Momo blinked. “Is that what we’re calling it now?!”

But her body had already responded. Her breath hitched. Her skin tingled. And her heart—oh, her heart—was galloping.

Because this wasn’t just heat. This wasn’t just a barbarian paladin gone wild.

This was him. Diablos. Overflowing with a divine hunger that had nothing to do with lust and everything to do with finally—finally—having permission to love her the way he’d always wanted.

He advanced, slow and reverent, as if closing a sacred distance. His massive hands curled into fists like he was holding himself back with the strength of mountains.

She didn’t run.

She didn’t flinch.

She just watched him approach—eyes locked, lips parted, cheeks flushing with that dangerous blend of fear and desire and something too big to name. Her fingers trembled at her sides.

He stopped inches from her, his chest heaving, his scent warm and electric—grass, smoke, divine milk, and man.

Momo’s voice cracked, trying to tease, failing to hide the thrum in her throat. “Fine.”

She reached up, grabbed his broad, burning shoulders—and pulled him down.

Their mouths met with the fury of crashing waves and the ache of prayers finally answered.

It wasn’t careful.

It wasn’t clean.

It was raw and sacred and overdue.

He kissed her like she was holy. Like her lips were the altar and he was the worshipper too long denied. His hands, trembling, cradled her face like he was terrified she might vanish. His kiss was trembling at first, then deeper, hungrier, more desperate.

Momo melted. Giggled breathlessly against his lips, surprised by the tenderness in so much raw power. Her hands roamed up into his wild hair, fingers tangling and yanking—not to stop him, but to anchor him.

The kiss shifted. Grew hotter. Deeper. Sloppier.

Tongues tangled. Teeth clashed. Moans escaped—needy and involuntary.

And then—

She felt it.

A warm pulse rolled down her spine. Her body arched, the divine power rising in her blood like moonlight through milk. Her breath caught, and her form bloomed—hips rounding, thighs thickening, breasts full and heavy. Her horns lengthened and curled with celestial grace. Her skin flushed with golden warmth.

A soft, feminine moo escaped her lips as she leaned into him.

He didn’t pull away.

He groaned—low and sacred and overwhelmed—and held her tighter, like she was everything.

And then, between deep kisses and holy shivers, he choked out the truth in one broken, sacred breath:

“I love you. Like… so much.”

She froze. Only for a second.

Her eyes searched his—those molten, red-gold orbs burning with not just lust, but adoration. She saw it all there. Every unsaid thing. Every stupid, brave, silent ache.

And then—gently—she kissed him again, slow and soft, her forehead resting against his.

“I know,” she whispered, her horns brushing his. “Me too.”

They held each other like the world had just begun.

And maybe, thanks to Bovara…

It had.

Momo smirked as she pushed Diablos down onto the floor she fully undressed them both as she locked eyes with him. Her gaze was furious wild and unapologetic as she stared at his now massive cock. It stood proud and painfully erect for her.

She smiled and said, “is this all for me?” Before lightly touching his cock and watching precum ooze out. She smiled as it tasted like cream before she mounted him.

Overcome with need she leans over as she fully sinks down onto Diablos’s cock. He moans as she graciously puts her breast into his mouth.

“Drink my blessed milk,” she says and Diablos drinks. He feels his mind become cloudier but freer as his complex thoughts and worries just wash away with each tender sip. They both moo as the rut into each other like animals. Momo’s walls viciously clench around Diablos as he tries and fails to resisting cumming inside her.

He groans as he fills her womb with cum. Momo groans in appreciation and approval at being bred and for a moment she feels Bovara’s divine essence fill her and Diablos as it moves through them as they drink in each other’s presence. Moans and mood fly as they reach their mutual peaks.

The morning sun streamed lazily through the stained-glass windows of the Temple of Bovara, casting kaleidoscopic patterns across the long wooden table. Plates of food were scattered in organized chaos: fresh-baked honey bread, thick slices of fruit glazed in cream, grilled sausage, eggs glowing golden with magic, and—of course—more milk than should be legal.

Diablos sat at one end of the bench, arms crossed behind his head, grinning like he didn’t just “consecrate” half of the private healing chamber ago.

Momo sat across from him, fork in her mouth, cheeks puffed with food like an angry chipmunk. She glared at him as he wiggled his eyebrows at her.

“You’re staring,” she mumbled, chewing.

“You’ve got cream on your lip,” he said, voice low and lazy.

“No, I don’t,” she said, immediately licking at nothing.

Diablos smirked. “Yeah, you do.”

She narrowed her eyes, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and threw a grape at him. It bounced off his cheek and landed in his lap.

“Hit me with one more fruit and I swear I’ll turn this temple into a honeymoon suite.”

“We already did,” she said under her breath.

“Yeah, but with decorations this time.”

Momo rolled her eyes, but her ears were flushed pink. She stabbed another slice of honeyed peach, trying to look disinterested, even though she kept sneaking glances at him—his forearms, the way his shirt clung to his chest, the scar that trailed along his collarbone.

He caught her looking. Again.

“What?” she asked, mouth half-full.

“I like seeing you eat,” he said casually.

“Why are you always so weirdly turned on by food?” she asked, blushing as she took a bite. “Is this a barbarian thing or a bull thing?”

Diablos leaned forward, eyes lidded, lips curving into a slow grin. “I don’t know, Momo. It’s just that I like watching you feel safe and do all the little things you do when you’re being fed or taken care of. However You’re also the one who moaned over that melon slice last night.”

“That was divine produce,” she said, voice rising defensively. “It had a literal joy enchantment on it!”

“Sure it did.” He winked. “And your little leg shake had nothing to do with it, right?”

She nearly choked on her bread and had to down half a cup of milk just to survive. Big mistake as the Milk rushed through her body filling her with a renewed lust and need.

The air between them buzzed, hotter than the sun outside. Diablos’s smile faded into something heavier, hungrier. His foot brushed hers under the table. Just once. Then again.

Momo froze.

She looked up. Their eyes met.

His fingers curled around his cup slowly. “You feel it too, don’t you?”

She nodded. Just barely.

The tension was ridiculous. Like a thunderstorm waiting to detonate. Her skin buzzed. Her thighs clenched. Even the milk seemed thicker somehow—suspiciously so.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have let Bovara bless the food,” she muttered.

“I didn’t,” Diablos said. “You did.”

“She likes it when people are well-fed and well-loved!”

He leaned forward, voice lower now. “You gonna ‘love’ me on the table or after I clear the dishes?”

Her face turned crimson. “You’re such a menace.”

“You keep feeding me,” he shrugged. “What did you think was gonna happen?”

There was a pause.

A dangerous, delicious pause.

Momo stood suddenly, slamming her hands on the table. “Okay. That’s it. We’re eating outside. With supervision. In full armor.”

Diablos leaned back, laughing. “You sure? I was thinking dessert.”

Momo tossed a napkin at his face and stormed toward the garden, muttering under her breath.

He followed her, still barefoot, still smirking.

And behind them, the milk pitcher trembled slightly—glowing faintly with divine mischief.

When they got to the garden Momo could barely contain herself as she lifted her robes to grant Diablos easy access to her pussy, and without a second thought he plunged his cock into her soft wet tight hole.

“Ah ah moo,” Momo moaned feeling the aura of Bovara consume her Diablos grabbed and massaged her breasts. Kneading them with desperate fervor as he thrust into her. Momo’s eyes rolled back in pleasure as Diablos continued mounting her. Her mind filled with visions of little holustar children running around with scales around their collars and slitted eyes.

Momo turned to Diablos and kissed him. A kiss of claiming of marking. Their bodies heated violently before they reached their peaks.

Momo’s eyes rolled as she was filled again. It left her feeling whole complete. She smiled at Diablos before settling her down.

“You’re dangerous,” Momo teased

“Yeah but you love me,” Diablos shot back. Momo smirked and said,

“Yeah I do,”

“Good now come on. I have to report to the guild hall,” Diablos chortled. Momo sighed but happily took his arm and hand as they walked. The guild hall buzzed with the usual chaos—adventurers swapping stories and scars, contracts being scribbled, coins changing hands fast enough to make the gods blink. The place smelled like steel, ink, and too much ale before noon.

Diablos towered near the front counter, relaxed in his half-unbuttoned tunic, arms crossed and mood entirely too good for someone who’d just fought an elder dragon and temporarily become a divine bull hybrid. Momo stood beside him, a little shorter than usual thanks to being in her “human” form, but her presence just as radiant—robes flaring with every step, cheeks still flushed from their overly affectionate breakfast.

The guild associate, a tired elf with reading glasses and the posture of a tax accountant, slid a leather pouch of coin across the counter.

“All verified. Congratulations, Diablos. Elder dragon slain. Property damage minimal this time. Payment in full.” The elf blinked. “And uh… there’s also a temple tithe on your behalf. From the Order of Bovara. Labeled ‘blessing surcharge’?”

“Yeah, that tracks,” Diablos muttered.

Momo just hummed and nudged his side with her elbow. “You did scream ‘praise be to Bovara’ mid-transformation.”

“That was involuntary and I was full of divine hormones!”

The elf cleared his throat and pointedly looked away.

As they walked out into the sun-warmed plaza, Momo glanced up at him. “So. Why adventuring?”

Diablos slowed, hands in his pockets. His smirk faltered just a little.

“I guess…” he started, then trailed off. “When I was younger, I noticed something. People only told the truth when I hit them hard enough.”

Momo blinked. “That’s… a bit intense.”

He chuckled softly. “I don’t mean just violence. I mean in battle, people are honest. You see their fear. Their courage. What they really want. They can’t hide it. No pretending. No small talk. Just—truth.”

She was quiet for a moment. Then: “So you’ve only ever felt seen when you were in danger?”

He shrugged, then looked over at her, softer now. “Not always. Not since I met you. After my first quest, I came to the temple for healing, thinking you’d be another polite priestess who’d patch me up and send me on my way.”

She smiled, slow and genuine.

“But then you looked at me like I was already whole, even when I was bleeding out on your floor. You didn’t flinch. You didn’t flatter. You just… told me to stop bleeding on the tiles.”

Momo laughed, her eyes crinkling. “To be fair, you were leaking onto the sacred mosaic of Fertility Eternal.”

“And yet,” he said, smirking again, “you’re the only one who made me feel like I didn’t have to fight to be understood.”

Momo slowed her pace, then reached out and took his hand without fanfare. “I’m glad I’m your earnest friend who you don’t have to fight.”

His grip tightened just a little, reverent.

They walked in silence for a while longer, hand in hand, until Momo tilted her head and said, “Wanna know something weird about me?”

“More than usual?”

She grinned, then exhaled. “Bovara chose me when I was twelve. Just… appeared. In a dream. Said I was hers.”

“That young?”

She nodded, her smile fading a little. “Yeah. And… her blessing came with some changes. I, uh… developed faster than the other girls. Fuller. Rounder. More… cow-adjacent.”

He looked over, sensing the tension. “They bullied you?”

“Oh, relentlessly,” she said, faking cheer. “Called me names. Said I looked unnatural. One kid even mooed at me in class.”

He winced. “Want me to find him?”

“I already cursed him with lactose intolerance.”

He blinked. “Remind me never to cross you.”

She smirked but her gaze dropped again. “The temple was the first place that didn’t make me feel like a freak. They called me sacred instead of shameful. But even then… I didn’t feel like I belonged. I still longed for something. For someone who didn’t see the blessing as a burden.”

Diablos’s voice came out low. “You were never a freak. You were always divine.”

She turned to him, surprised.

“I don’t mean just holy. I mean… you. You’re joy. You’re creation. You’re everything Bovara stands for—except with better comedic timing.”

Her face flushed pink.

“And,” he added, “anyone who ever mocked you should thank Bovara that I met you after I got my rage under control.”

She laughed, tearful and warm. “You’re ridiculous.”

He squeezed her hand again. “And you’re miraculous.”

They stood in the middle of the square, the world buzzing around them, but wrapped in a kind of private stillness. A sacred, stolen breath between battles, between blessings.

Then Momo’s stomach rumbled. Loudly.

They both looked down at it.

Diablos raised an eyebrow. “Another divine craving?”

“I swear, if Bovara is trying to make me snack-horny again—”

“…Snack-horny?”

She clapped a hand over her mouth. “I MEANT—”

“Too late, it’s canon now,” Diablos said, grinning. “Guess we’re getting dessert.”

Momo rolled her eyes then said, “I have to go back to the temple for a bit, then we can get all the desert you want,”

Diablos laughed and shot back, “you’re the one with the rumbling tummy,” Momo smiled as Diablos followed her to the temple

The sun was dipping low, turning the sky into a rich swirl of apricot and lavender, when Momo and Diablos crossed the threshold of Bovara’s temple.

The golden doors swung open with their usual soft mooo, and the familiar warmth washed over them: rose milk incense, polished marble floors warm from the sun, and the faint scent of wildflowers and cream. The air shimmered faintly with divine energy—as always—but today, something felt… thicker. Tighter. Like the temple itself was holding its breath.

Momo paused, sensing it first.

“…She’s here,” she murmured.

Diablos raised a brow. “Bovara? She doesn’t usually make house calls, does she?”

“Only when something’s about to get interesting.”

As they entered the central hall, the temple’s light shifted—glowing warmer, deeper, and impossibly radiant. The offerings on the altar glowed. The air hummed. And then—

She arrived.

Bovara didn’t walk into the room. She existed into it.

A towering holstaur goddess with skin like sun-warmed cream, golden eyes, and curves carved from divinity itself stepped down from a shaft of light, her hooves clacking gently on the marble as her long tail swished. Her white and gold silks flowed like water around her, and her horns glimmered with pearlescent charm.

Her voice rang out, playful and loud, like laughter at a midsummer feast.

“Well, well… what do we have here?”

Momo immediately dropped to a respectful bow—half formal, half sheepish.

Diablos stared for a second too long. “…You weren’t kidding about the suggestive harvest murals.”

Bovara’s gaze slid toward him, and her lips curled into a smile so knowing it should’ve come with a warning label.

“And you must be the sacred stud who broke my cleric’s curse of celibate longing,” Bovara purred, eyes raking over Diablos with both divine amusement and appraisal. “My my. You’re even handsomer without fur. Mostly.”

Momo turned a scandalized shade of red. “Goddess—!”

“Shush, little milkdrop,” Bovara said fondly, waving her off. “I’m doing divine work.”

Diablos cleared his throat, somewhere between flattered and terrified. “Uh. I hope you’re not here to smite me.”

Bovara laughed—a rich, musical sound that made the floor vibrate and the walls sway with joy. “Smite you? Please. I ought to canonize you.”

She twirled a strand of her long golden hair and stepped closer, her gaze softening as she looked at Momo.

“I’ve been taking inventory,” she said, voice suddenly velvet. “Checking on all my little beloveds. And what do I find when I come home?”

She gestured between them, beaming.

“One of my brightest clerics… has found her soulmate.”

Momo’s breath caught.

Diablos’s eyes widened. “Soulmate?”

Bovara winked. “You think that kind of spiritual-moo-transformation happens with just anyone? Please. Divine bonds don’t just manifest because someone drinks temple milk and gets horny. You two were written into each other’s story before either of you knew what a blessing was.”

Momo looked up at Diablos, stunned, her hands nervously twisting the fabric of her robes.

He met her gaze, and for once, words escaped him.

Bovara tilted her head, knowingly. “You’ve felt it, haven’t you? That tension between you—not just lust, but that unbearable, beautiful ache. That’s mine. That’s soul-thread. It doesn’t unravel. It tightens.”

Momo swallowed hard. “So… this wasn’t just divine heat?”

“Oh, it was,” Bovara said, winking. “But divine heat, when matched with true devotion, burns forever. You’re not just lovers. You’re bound.”

Diablos exhaled sharply, then turned toward Momo fully. His voice, when he finally spoke, was quiet but certain.

“Then I’m glad it’s you.”

Momo smiled, shy and glowing, like she was thirteen again and hearing the goddess call her for the first time.

“I always hoped it would be you,” she said, barely above a whisper.

Bovara let out a proud little moo-sigh. “Oh, you two are going to make the most fertile chaos.”

Then she clapped her hands and the entire temple rang like a bell.

“Now. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go bless a goat mid-labor. Try not to immediately rip each other’s clothes off in the vestibule.”

She disappeared in a puff of glittery mist and faint erotic laughter, leaving Momo and Diablos alone in the golden light of the temple.

The silence stretched.

Momo turned to him, dazed. “So… soulmate, huh?”

Diablos shrugged. “I mean… I did say I love you mid-moo. That counts for something.”

She laughed, giddy and warm, and leaned in to bump her horns gently against his.

“Guess we better start planning our next offering.”

Diablos smirked. “Marriage, or… another ‘blessing’?”

Her eyes twinkled. “Why not both?”

#k pop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #twice smut #twice momo #dnd 5e smut #twice momo smut #5e smut

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igorluvr · 2 days ago

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hii i love your fics so much you’re one of my fav writers!! i was wondering if you could please write a thanos fic where him and the reader both take the pills and thanos confesses his feelings for the reader on them?

'HEART TO HEART | choi su-bong x reader

PAIRING: thanos x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: being high 24/7 with your newfound bestfriend came with side effects, including more confidence and lack of impulse control. matters became worse when you felt your feelings growing for him— and he suddenly confessed his.

CONTENT: drug use/substance abuse, mentions of murder, anxiety, implied panic attack, use of “su-bong” and “thanos”

AUTHORS NOTE: omg it makes me so happy that u love my fics it means so much to me!! this is rlly short & took a while to get out im sorryyy but i hope u enjoy !!

word count: [2.8k]

THANOS and you were like two peas in a pod, inseparable. He caught your attention within the first few minutes of being in the dormitories; sitting back and relaxing on his bed. His tattoos, colorful hair, and stylish jewelry all screamed at you to find out more about him—and you listened.

Approaching him was easy; he’s obviously a very extroverted person, so it wasn’t like he was going to ignore you. The two of you had relatively close beds, maybe about three bunks apart, so it wasn’t a long walk to where he was.

Before you even made it to his bed, you locked eyes. To you, he just looked curious about who was suddenly coming up to him— but in Thanos’ eyes, he’d just fallen in love.

Every little detail about you was perfect, and you were just gorgeous. He wondered what such a pretty girl was doing walking up to him, but he didn’t complain as he watched you inch closer and closer. Your sneakers dragged softly against the ground, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

You thought quickly about what to say to him, searching for the feature that caught your attention and hoping a conversation would sprout from that. His washed-out purple hair, extravagant tattoos, or perhaps the grunge silver rings that decorated his hands were all prominent features you'd took notice of while seeing him around. Yet, the most striking was the glistening cross around his neck, engraved with intricate designs and details. That’s what made you decide to start a conversation.

“I like your necklace, the design’s really unique,” you complimented, your voice shaky but genuine. Inside, you cursed yourself for sounding cheesy— your cheeks warmed slightly. Still, you kept your gaze steady, hoping your nervousness wouldn’t scare him off.

Thanos looked up, a slow smile spreading across his face, and let out a genuine laugh. His deep voice rumbled as he grasped the chain, gently lifting it to emphasize his words.

“Really? Wanna see what’s inside?” he asked, eyes gleaming with playfulness. He dangled the necklace in front of you, the metal catching the light as he twirled it between his fingers. You’d studied the necklace before talking to him, but never considered it might hold something inside. Driven by curiosity, you nodded quickly and stepped closer.

As the latch clicked open, you were met with an array of multicolored candies. You blinked, confused— looking up at him for an explanation. There was no way he wasted a hiding spot like that on candy, right? Thanos’ lips curled into a smirk as he picked up one of the circular pieces, holding it closer to you for a better look.

Your gaze sharpened as you examined the pills. Tiny numbers were etched onto the surface, almost imperceptible at first glance. Your brows furrowed as the realization dawned on you: these weren’t candy, they were pills. Your eyes flicked back to him, surprised and curious about how he’d managed to sneak them in.

“What's it do?” you asked, curiosity lacing your voice. Thanos looked around and waved you closer, as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear.

“Shits crazy,” he whispered, voice low and deep. “I’ve been taking these since the first game, and I swear, it’s like none of this is real. I see everything happening but… I’m just not phased by it anymore.”

While he talked about the effects, you fell deeper into admiration. He was so interesting and carefree; some part of you just loved it.

As he leaned back comfortably, the chain of his necklace dangling from his defined neck, your eyes wandered to him. Despite the exhaustion etched into his features, there was a spark of recklessness in his gaze— like he’d already come to peace with the games.

He looked over at you, a smirk forming on his lips.

“You alright?” His voice was low, casual—yet beneath it, a hint of genuine concern lingered.

You nodded, dropping your head to hide your flustered smile. “Yeah, just… a lot to process, y’know?”

He chuckled softly, stretching out his legs. “Yeah, I get it. This place’s a nightmare, but I’ve seen worse. You kinda have to keep your head up if you wanna survive. It’s all about being one step ahead, making the best out of what you can, and distracting yourself.” His tone settled into a calmer rhythm, indicating he was coming down from his earlier high.

It was strange— someone so carefree in a place so deadly.

“Seems like you’re already good at that,” you said, nodding toward his silver necklace.

He shrugged, a sly grin spreading across his face.

“Learned a few tricks. Gotta stay ahead of the game— literally. Besides, it’s easier when you’re in another world. Keeps your head clear, makes the nights a little less lonely.”

There was something about his words that made you feel less alone. The fear still lingered, but in this moment, it was overshadowed by a strange warmth.

The silence stretched, then he leaned over slightly, lowering his voice.

“You know, I’ve seen a lot of these people come and go. Some fold under pressure, others get stronger. You seem like someone who’s not gonna let this place crush her— that’s good.”

Your heart fluttered unexpectedly at his words.

“Thanks,” you murmured. “I guess I’m just trying to survive like everyone else.”

He nodded, eyes flickering with a soft vulnerability.

“Yeah, maybe if we stick together, we’ll get out of here in one piece— or at least not go crazy like most of these people did.”

You felt a strange warmth growing inside, despite the cold stares of others. In this brutal, unforgiving place, it was refreshing to find someone who understood what it’s like to fight day by day just to stay sane.

“Yeah,” you said softly, “I think I’d like that.”

Thanos flashed a genuine smile— a rare expression that didn’t quite reach his eyes but conveyed a promise of loyalty— even in a place where trust was a gamble of your life.

“You know what they say; two’s a party, three’s a mess.” He grinned, trying to lighten the mood.

Laughing at his butchered version of the saying, you corrected him.. “I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.” You patted his shoulder, smiling.

“Whatever, you know what I mean.” He mumbled, brushing off his mistake and his obvious embarrassment.

From that day, you both kept your word— staying by each other through everything. Whether in another life-threatening game or pulling Thanos away from a fight, you always had each other’s backs.

One of your usual activities involved the same candy-like drugs that drew you in the first time you met. After a while, you got tired of being the only sober one— with Su-bong jumping around in joy as you endured the chaotic scene.

He only let you take half a pill, claiming a full one would be too strong and that you had to ease into it. You never complained, though. After all, he was far more educated on the substance than you were. Unlike Thanos, you only took it occasionally. But today, you felt you needed it more than ever.

The game had just ended; Mingle, as they called it. You weren’t sure if it was the fast-paced music or the fact that more than a quarter of the players had died, but you were feeling more on edge than ever. Your body shook involuntarily, and the sight of blood scattered on the ground couldn’t escape your mind.

Su-bong noticed your panicked state and rushed over, trying to soothe you.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” he whispered, trying not to draw unwanted attention. Despite his carefree appearance, Thanos wasn’t always like this. Before and sometimes during his rap career, he experienced random bursts of anxiety and panic attacks— which is partially he was so obsessed with taking mind-altering pills. Seeing you like this reminded him of himself, and he wanted to help.

He gently pat your arm with his warm, ringed hand, locking eyes with you.

“Look at me. It’s gonna be okay,” he said softly.

As you tried to focus, your gaze drifted to Thanos, and you felt some of your worry wash away. His feelings, however, were the opposite.

He stared at you with deep worry, having never seen you in this state before. Your eyes were bloodshot, and you looked up at him with a low, distant gaze. The bags under your eyes were deeper than any he’d ever seen. You didn’t even crack a smile— just stared as your mind drifted.

Finally, you spoke softly.

“Why did it have to be like this? I just needed a way to pay off my debt… to live freely. I never wanted to come here, to play these games, to almost die.”

Su-bong listened empathetically, concern clear in his eyes. As you vented about how unfair everything was, he found himself lost in you— the way your lips moved, how your eyes sparkled under the harsh lights, your voice that could lull him to sleep. He never cared about a girl in this way before, he’d give everything if it meant for you to be okay. All your features were perfect to him, but he knew now wasn’t the time to say it aloud.

While listening, Thanos came up with an idea— something that might help you while also giving you a moment of relief.

“How would you feel about taking a pill— a whole one this time? I’ll even take one with you so you don’t feel alone.” he offered, fiddling with his necklace.

You blinked at him once, then twice. You’d never tried taking an entire pill, but what was the worst that could happen?

You nodded, smiling faintly, and held your hand out. Su-bong retrieved the candies, explaining briefly how it would go down.

Reassuring you that it would “float away your anxiety,” he placed the drug in your hand. Counting to three, the two of you popped the pills into your mouths simultaneously.

As the pill dissolved on your tongue, a warm wave of numbness spread through your body. The chaos of the past, the bloodshed, your fears— all faded into the background. Su-bong watched anxiously, gripping your hand tightly, silently hoping it would calm your nerves. His eyes filled with concern and something deeper— something you couldn’t quite read.

You closed your eyes, feeling the tension in your chest ease into a calming haze— like floating in a dream you never wanted to wake from.

Meanwhile, Thanos felt nothing but nervousness. His high tolerance caused the pills took longer to kick in. As you stared at him, dazed, with the most gorgeous look in your eyes, he felt his breath catch— overwhelmed by your beauty.

As the drug took hold, you felt yourself drift further from reality. Thanos’ face searched yours closely, his expression soft and intense— like he was trying to hold himself together just as much as he was trying to comfort you.

You could sense his heartbeat pounding in his chest. In that moment, something shifted inside of him— an unspoken emotion beneath the surface he was too afraid to voice. He wanted to tell you how much you meant to him, how seeing you like this made him realize he couldn’t lose you.

His usual calm cracked just enough for his thoughts to take over. Leaning in closer, he quietly spoke.

“You’re so beautiful.”

It slipped out before he even realized. You looked at him, wide-eyed, cheeks flushing.

“…W-what?” you whispered, eyes shimmering.

Thanos, unsure if it was the drugs or the moment, felt more in love with you than ever. Already having said what was partially on his mind, he decided to go all in.

Rubbing his sweaty hands on his jumpsuit, his head hung as he spoke up. “I’ve been keeping this to myself for a while now, but I’m afraid if I don’t tell you, I’ll regret it forever.” His words hung in the air, raw and honest, as he struggled to find the right way to confess.

The drug heightened everything— his feelings, his fears. He wondered if this was the moment of clarity he’d been searching for.

“I’ve been crazy about you since we came here. You’re so perfect, I feel lucky to have met someone like you. B-but you don’t have to say anything right now—I know you’re not in the best state to process all this. It’s just… if I don’t say it now, I don’t think I ever will.”

Your breathing slowed, and a faint smile appeared on your lips. Despite the haze, you could feel the sincerity in his voice— the vulnerability he rarely showed.

Reaching out, you gently squeezed his hand, silently telling him you felt the same.

As his eyes searched yours, hope and anxiety flickered across his face. In that quiet, hazy space, he finally allowed himself to be honest.

Heart pounding, he whispered, “I love you. I’ve loved you since that day you came up to me. I was too scared to say it then. Now, I just want you to know before this moment slips away.”

His voice cracked slightly, and his gaze shifted to the ground, holding onto the hope that, even after the drug wears off, this confession would be the start of something real.

Cupping his face with trembling hands, you lifted his head to face you. Both of you stared into each other’s eyes, searching for any sign of unspoken feelings.

Feeling a surge of confidence, like nothing else mattered, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

He stayed still, shocked at first, but then responded by moving his lips in sync with yours.

The kiss deepened, slow at first, like a question neither of you dared to ask. But as seconds passed, it burned with something more certain. A quiet desperation— like you were fighting for a last taste of each other before reality rushed back.

Thanos’ hands hovered at your waist, hesitant, then gently settled there, grounding both of you.

Your focus was on him— the feel of his lips, the taste of him, the heat where your bodies touched. Your heart pounded, but his kiss steadied you— reeling you into the moment. All the unspoken glances, silences, and “almosts” now unraveled in one slow, beautiful catastrophe.

When you finally pulled away, both breathless, your foreheads pressed together.

His smile faltered, and for a moment, he looked at you as if still trying to believe it was real. You felt it too— the weight of what had just happened crashing over both of you like a tide.

Without a word, you opened your arms and rushed into his embrace— as if you’d been waiting your whole life for this moment.

His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you close. Yours wrapped around his shoulders. You clung to each other as if it was the only thing keeping you both breathing. Like the vulnerability didn’t matter unless it ended like this: chest to chest, heart to heart.

You felt his exhale against your neck— a shaky breath that spoke more than words ever could.

“I didn’t think I’d ever get to feel this,” he murmured, voice cracking.

Squeezing him tighter, your eyes stung as you pressed yourself closer into his chest.

“Me neither.”

And for a long moment, neither of you moved. The world around you faded quietly, and in each other’s arms, you found something solid— something finally worth holding on to; eachother.

taglist:

@thanosspills

(feel free to comment if you would like to be added!!)

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spitking · 3 days ago

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Ficbinding: CMJF collection

(long post, sorry for the bad pics, my phone sucks, the colors are butchered here)

First of all, a thank you to all the authors I've reached out to regarding this project. They've all been very nice to me and I hope they think this book looks good. I tried to make something on par with the amazing fics they wrote, and that was a high task.

The fanfictions collected here are (in no particular order):

The ties that bind, Radiate, recognize one silent call, And if you, my pets, learn to listen and You, me and the devil makes three by GodivaDevice

It's not fair. by CRUXSADO

Speaking of Rats and Kayfabe by Ungefug

In Love There Is Pain by Reeby10

Your body, a slaughterhouse by ConcreteCreature

The Softest Brick Wall and the Risky Fuel series by Eggshellseas

A Different Time, Thursday, Wednesday and The Fake by Hereforwords

You make me violent by Davidfincher

And I don't care, you've got your tongue against my neck by Raspberrypez

Mark On You by Wheat From Chaff

The altar is your hips by Peakvincent

Hating you at yesterday by Dogstigmatism

I couldn't get in touch with some of you, I hope that if you come across this, you don't mind my doing it.

The project: A year ago, I saw a gif of the CM Punk/MJF dog collar match on tumblr and I discovered wrestling. That's the first match I watched, and I fell in love with the wrestlers and their story. I went on to read many fics about them and the quality of writing in this fandom blew my mind. So I wanted to collect my favorite here for easier re-reading, and it was an occasion to work with a satiny fabric for the cover to mimick wrestling gear.

The bind: This was quite a complex project for me, I learned a lot and had to use my bookbinding skills (such as they are) to the max. For the cover, I replicated Punk and Max's gear during the dog collar match. See the inspo pics and the full cover:

Not too bad! A hurdle or two: the fabric has lines that couldn't be smoothed out completely, you can see them here. It's literally lines, this cloth has been ironed smooth. If I'd worked with real spandex it wouldn't have happened I think, but I'm not there yet, so I stuck to cheap satin. Also, when I added the burberry ribbon to the cover, I realized PVA glue wouldn't do the job, so I had to superglue them, and a little glue seeped through on the top there. What can you do. By the way, burberry ribbons?? I had to buy it from a small online shop that sells doll making supplies, it was hard to find.

While we're on the technical stuff, the massive new thing I tried here was chisel trimming the edges to get a smooth result. And it worked, after a lot of training and hours and hours of hand-destroying work. I'm really happy with how straight and smooth the edges turned out. Fun fact: I printed, folded, sewed and trimmed this book a first time, then because the result wasn't good enough, I used that textblock to train with the chisel, and then I started over and printed a second book, the one that you see here.

I chose green for the endpapers and endbands. I love me some green. Have some details:

Guys, believe me, this book is prettier in person and the colors are more vibrant. Damn phone camera.

Now something I find exciting: the typesetting!

The fun thing with wrestling is that it's very visual, so I can incorporate more pictures than I usually do in my books, and my new printer gives good results. There are pictures of the dog collar match and other pics of Punk and Max scattered throughout the book. I tried to put them in relevant places.

I made a little cover page for the Risky Fuel series. All individual fic have an intro page with all the info (author, rating, word count, tags, etc.) and a QR code to the fic on AO3.

Overall I kept it pretty simple, I didn't want to overcrowd it with decorations. This is for reading, after all. Here's what a normal text page looks like (the book has 460 pages btw):

I'm very satisfied with the evenness of the margins on all sides. The first word in Old English font is a callback to MJF's logo and Punk's "straight edge" tattoo.

Nitpicking: I think this is it with straight spines for me. Every time I try to do one, I have issues, it never turns out perfect, and it bugs me. The result here looks good, and the book lies flat as it should, but in person I see the imperfections and I hate them.

I'm a rounded spine guy and that's what I'm going to keep doing, even though they have their limitations (the only one I can think of right now is that you can't do a color split on a rounded spine because it will crease where the cloths meet, which I can live without).

In the end, I'm very happy I bound this book, because I'm going to be able to enjoy reading these fics cosy in bed for a long time. They're so good, guys, go read them!

Fonts: Cover page: Damage Plan and Old English. Text: Leelawadee. Fic titles: Built titling rg. All free with Windows or on Dafont.

Materials: Grey board 2mm thick, online-bought polyester "satin", Heat'n'Bond Ultra Hold, tissue paper, white copy paper 80gsm, synthethic ready-made bookmark and endbands, endpaper from Schmedt.

Feel free to ask me more about materials and fonts (or whatever), it won’t bother me at all to tell you what I used, I just can’t think of anything else right now.

#thanks again to the authors you rock <3 #my bookbinding #ficbinding #cmjf #bookbinding #do I maintag this with the wrestlers' names? nah what for.#also ignore anymess you may see in the pics' background plz

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jsooly · 2 days ago

Note

I love the 'Taken By The Sully's' series with all my heart ❤️ I have freshly found it today, binged read it and am happily waiting for the next part patiently! 😁

Anyway, I was writing to ask some dumb (but burning questions) and I hope I articulate myself correctly 🤧

- number one being, how tall is the reader roughly? We know that she was very tall for a human kid because of her mother's exposure to pandora logically, but she is still called Tiny by the navi around her. I'm imagining somewhere around six feet, where she is tall for a human but 3 feet short of the roughly 9 feet navi. Or is she average height and simply had a massive growth spurt in the beginning of her life?

-number two, what exactly is she wearing? Is it regular military issue clothes (safari shorts, super short shorts, long sleeves, tank tops) In the last chapter we know she wears human clothes (which was kinda unexpected but I thought it was an interesting part of her character, since though the story she focuses on relinquishing her human-ness to be accepted I thought that she would wear navi clothes even if she felt uncomfortable in the beginning, if she felt like the tribe (and maybe even neytiri) would accept her more if she looked a little less human. But as stated before I like this detail because to me it still shows that implicitly that she feels that there is still a divide between her and the navi. My long winded interpretation is that she is perceived and probably perceives herself as a human demon who is definitely not attractive in navi standards (at least not at first glance) and maybe inwardly feels a little awkward participating in a cultural custom like dress where the goal is to accentuate the strength and beauty of the navi (1 she would have felt awkward looking pretty when she she strives to make she skills known or 2 since she still frequents the sky camps it probably would be weird walking around in navi clothes (more covering from human clothes would be more versatile) or 3 she simply feels like it wouldn't make her look beautiful)

I think it would be super cute if Tarsem would make the effort to tell her how all around attractive he finds her, regardless if she feels comfortable wearing the navi clothes. It's probably not something that she's not used to hearing, especially someone that she's close with (in a serious manner at least)

Any way I'm rambling because I feel like there is so much to dive into with this series❤️ keep up your amazing work! Apologies for the work avalanche!

i just want everyone to know when i get super long asks like these i get so happy and do laps around my room!! i love u guys sm!!

(long) response below:

reader's height

i keep the reader's appearance vague so everyone can picture them as they like, but yes, she is meant to be taller than an average human due to her mutations! tuk is 5'7" and spider is 6'3", so reader definitely falls within that range at least, but is probably on the taller side with the potential of being taller than spider by a bit.

reader's clothes

disclaimer: all of these references are meant for inspiration only — i don't have a clear picture of what she wears/looks like in my head to avoid putting specific looks onto the reader. she wears whatever you think she wears based on the descriptions i provide, but hopefully this helps set the vibe!!

when jake and neytiri first took her in, she was two years old (about to turn three). they did dress her in omaticaya clothing at this time. james cameron said he based the na'vi on a number of marginalized peoples, drawing inspiration from maori, african, and native american cultures. i went on a deep dive into each and found the most similarities between traditional maori and polynesian clothing. just looking at images like this this this and this you can really see the influence, especially with the loincloths and tops made with flowers, grass, and leaves. for comparison, here are some na'vi outfits from concept art, the game, and the movies: this this this and this

anyways this is all leading up to this point: when i picture baby reader, i picture her in something similar to this or this. as she grew up, it evolved to smth like this. i couldn't find many na'vi references, but here are some anyway: this and this. hopefully i'm making sense so far ... T-T

around 11 years old, she stopped wearing na'vi clothing for the reasons you describe. 1) she's deeply insecure about her body — when she puts on na'vi clothing, she feels like she's wearing a costume and that inherently makes her feel uncomfortable/awkward, like she's pretending to be one of them rather than actually belonging to the group and 2) she doesn't have the same build as the na'vi, so a lot of the clothes they make don't fit her/serve their purpose ... if that makes sense? like you mentioned that their clothes accentuate the strength and beauty of the na'vi, which she doesn't have, so in her mind she wouldn't do the clothing justice.

and when i mentioned 'sky people' clothing i didn't mean the military clothing the lab guys wear... i just meant something like this or this or this or this or this ... human fabrics & articles of clothing in a way that supports her movement through the forest. because again, she's abnormal by human standards so they don't have clothes for her — she has to kind of make her own outfits with what she has. she leans towards human materials over na'vi materials because of her insecurities and belief that she isn't supposed to be wearing those things.

and yes, tarsem will definitely make the effort to get her to wear na'vi clothing despite her protests because he doesn't see anything weird about it!

thank you sm for your rambling! i loooooved your take because it was exactly what i hoped to get across. i hope this answers your questions, and don't hesitate to send another ask in with any other questions/interpretations :D

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shatcey · 15 hours ago

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Repaint (10th anniversary cards). Girls

Belle (several verions)

This skirt was… totally not my thing. The flag? Really? And it was very short. So I made it a little longer. I know the middle part is a bit long, but it's too much trouble to fix (I tried). I still think her skirt is still too short. I guess I've really gotten old if I think so…

And she was supposed to be a not tall girl. Why do her legs look so long?… Don't think, don't analyze…

1-2

In fact, I am very pleased with the result.

Juicy, gummy…bright pink. I love it. And it compliment her skin and hair colours so well. I tried a softer vertion. From the same palette, but not so… toxic-bright. It looks not bad either.

3...

It was a big surprise for me. Very deep burgundy. It suits her very well. Looks rich.

4...

I decided to try the yellow color as well. But due to the fact that I've already changed the colors too many times, it turned out to be a bit messy… But I'm too lazy to start from the beginning…

I like this shade… it is very soft and sunny… Very suitable for our bunny.

Vampire girl

As soon as I saw her card, I thought it should be red. So I didn't even try other colors.

She has more colors now. And this fiery scarlet color is very beautiful. I left a few details in the original golden color, but now I think maybe… this detail on her… belly… flower or something… better to switch to this scarlet color too.

And I gave her back her real brown eyes, the developers made them pink for some reason… Maybe she's already a vampire… I don't know.

But the result looks odd on this pink background. Oh, well…

Kate

I don't like Kate's shoes so I played with it a bit. I wanted to make them in the same shades as the butterflies. If you look closely, you will see that they really have all the shades of butterflies (left). But… from a distance, they just look blue. I decided to try a more purple shades, and I like it better (right).

Not perfect, but I think it looks more balance now.

Outside that, I'm pretty happy with both Kate and Mai.

Just for comparison this is the original pictures.

What do you think? Which one looks better than the original? If any of them looks better…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🔝 𝕊𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕋 ℙ𝔸𝔾𝔼 🔝

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#ikepri #ikemen prince #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikepri card #ikevamp card #recolor #ikepri belle #ikevamp mc

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winniethewife · 2 days ago

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Good Soup

(Papa Terzo x Gn!Reader)

A/n: This is a gift for @midgardian-witch for their birthday! Happy birthday Fran! I hope you love this silly little fic! (That you convinced me to write) I LOVE YOUUUU. If you want to hear me shout into the void about this band (And others) Please follow me over at @lyricallymelodic

Disclaimer: All fan fic written by me for this fandom is based on a fictional depiction of the personas of the band members, no real people were perceived in the making of this fiction.

Words: 1131

This is an unusual circumstance. How often does a sibling of sin get a personal invitation from one of the Papa’s to go anywhere? Much less to a fancy restaurant on a very busy Friday night. So you had pulled out your fanciest outfit and tried your best to look as nice as possible before you left for the restaurant. You were still checking how your hair looked in the rearview mirror when you pulled up to the fanciest restaurant you had ever seen. Although you suppose that wasn’t a crazy thing to expect from an Emeritus. You take a deep breath and step out of the car, spotting a couple of Ghouls waiting for you by the door of the restaurant. You recognized Omega, Terzo’s right hand man. When you approached He nodded to you before opening the door of the building gesturing for you to enter. You give him a smile and a wave of appreciation before you walk through the entryway, the minimally decorated foyer seemed both lacking in comparison to the ministry buildings and also a nice break from the stained glass and candelabra filled halls you were used to.

“Ah! You made it!” Terzo called out when he saw you as the host helped you to the table in the mostly empty restaurant. Terzo had stood up when you approached, a smile on his face.

“Of course Papa, I wouldn’t miss an invitation from you.” You said with all the polite tones and propriety that was expected of you.

“Please, tonight just call me by my name. Tonight I am not Papa Emeritus the third. Tonight I’m just your friend Terzo.” He stated, that same infectious grin on his face.

“Okay, Terzo. My friend. Of course.” You said with the slightest bit of a chuckle. He gestures for you to take a seat in front of him, and you do. There weren’t any menus or cutlery on the table. Only a glass of water and an intricately folded napkin sat in front of you.

“The Menu is set for us tonight, so there will be no need to worry over what you are going to eat. And don’t worry I already let them know of your dietary restrictions and preferences Terzo said simply like it was the most obvious thing to do. How did he even know that about you? You suppose any food allergies you had might be on file at the ministry but preferences? Who was keeping track of that? But before you could even ask Terzo was already on a completely different topic. He was talking about his recent talk with Secondo and how he was annoyed with his older brother. You knew the two of them had a rivalry that went beyond the typical tiffs between brothers, but the details of why this was the case were lost to time.

Soon food started to be delivered to the table. The appetizers were good, some simple finger food. Delicious fillings wrapped in flakey dough, bread and cheese with cured meat. It was nice, Terzo kept the conversation going with tidbits about his life on tour, doing his duties to the ministry. You were more inclined to listen to him talk, maybe it was the difference in your status, or maybe it was just the fact that you adored the way he spoke. He always had a way with words, you can remember years of going to see him speak at the ministry, when he would take the new members to be baptized. You shake your head slightly, trying to pull away from the thought of Terzo in the water, his clothes clinging to his body when he-

“What do you think my friend?” You hadn’t even heard what he had said.

“Sorry I missed that. What do I think about…?” You asked trying not to show how embarrassed you felt for completely missing what he said. Terzo was about to repeat what he said when the wait staff appeared with more food. The French onion soup is quite good, and the two of you continue to talk. You talk about your job at the ministry, how much you both enjoy the gardens, his recent work with the Ghost project. You get so deep into conversation you hardly notice the dishes that come and go. Gazpacho, Italian wedding soup, Matzo ball soup, Broccoli cheddar…Hold up.

“Hey Terzo?” You look at him with a confused look, soup spoon in hand.

“Yes, cara?” He looked completely unfazed by the choice in food at all, a soft smile on his face and a sparkle in his eyes.

“What’s with the endless soup?” You ask as you stir the bowl of minestrone in front of you. He grins.

“It’s good soup, no?” He replies with a chuckle. He doesn’t ever answer your question. At the end of your meal he stands first taking your hand and walking with you to the front of the restaurant. His other hand slightly hovering above your lower back, like he wishes to hold you but is trying to be respectful. You both stand in the parking lot, you can see his Ghoulish bodyguards watching from a respectable distance. He stood next to you, rubbing the back of his neck. For the first time all evening he looks almost nervous. It was adorable.

“I had a really nice time, despite the… interesting menu choices.” You speak up, trying to break through the silence. Terzo almost jumps, surprised to hear you speak again. He takes your hand in his.

“Yes…well I...I’m glad you had a nice time. I also had a good time. I wouldliketodothisagainsometime.” He spoke so fast you could hardly understand. His face is red and his eyes are darting everywhere before meeting your gaze again. He squeezes your hand tightly, his nerves getting the better of him.

Oh, He’s so desperate. You can see it in the way he looked at you, the way he held himself now. He wanted your approval, he wanted you to like him so very badly. You instantly feel less bad for fantasizing about him during dinner.

“Sorry, what did you say?” You push, squeezing his hand back in encouragement. He sighed deeply, trying to push aside his anxiety.

“I said, I would like to do this again some time.” He repeated himself slowly and clearly. You smile pulling him slightly closer so your shoulders touch.

“I’d like that, but next time I pick the restaurant.” You said with a laugh, he looked at you bewildered.

“Was something wrong with the meal?” He asked, carefully sliding his arm around your waist.

“Terzo, we literally had ten courses and six of them were soup!” You laugh out loud.

“Is that a bad thing? It was good Soup!”

masterlist

Taglist: @silvernight-m @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @lover-of-books-and-tea @ierofrnkk @faretheeoscar @stellasplendens

#the band ghost #ghost the band #x reader #ghost the band fanfic #ghost band x reader #terzo emeritus #papa terzo #ghost terzo #papa emeritus iii #terzo #terzo x reader #gender neutral reader

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