#this was so much fun to write omg

[brigoesrahhh]

"Oh no please, call me Jonathan."

Jonathan Ohnn / The Spot x f!Reader.

Part one, Part two, Part three.

1k+ words.

Summary: You worked at Alchemax for a small part-time job. You had planned a date with someone you met online, but they didn’t show. Saddened and with the day not going great, you sat alone at your table, scrolling on your phone. That was until Dr. Ohnn, the big scientist behind the experiments at Alchemax, who was secretly dying to talk to you, sat at your table. 

A/N: the POV occasionally switches between jonathan and the reader. i hope its not confusing <3

You just got the text you’d expected from your date: 

“Sorry, I can’t make it tonight.”

You sighed and closed your eyes, resting your elbows on the small cafe table. What did you think was going to happen when you had planned the date online? Certainly not that you were going to meet the love of your life. Nope, definitely not. But you wished it was that easy. They were attractive, but canceling a date at the last minute isn’t exactly the best reflection of someone’s personality.

You looked around at the view of the cafe from your seat, taking in all of the little details in its decor. This was your favorite place to go, and the baristas knew you pretty well, immediately assuming your signature order and bringing it to your table.

“You have a date? You look nice,” she complimented, teasing you with a wink. You hummed in response, laughing a little at yourself. 

You smiled at her sadly when she wished you good luck, before she quickly ran off back to work. Today had been a busy day for the cafe, with a surprising influx of customers throughout the afternoon. She hadn’t noticed the disappointment hidden behind your kind smile.

The bell hanging from the door bounced around as more people came in, smiling and greeting each other. It had become a common sound to you at this point, and your brain began to muffle out the ringing bells and indistinct chatter. After taking a sip of your beverage, you opened your phone and started mindlessly scrolling.

~

“Mm.. hm-hm-hmm~ Quick coffee then run, quick coffee then run~” he mumbled to himself merrily as he opened the door, ringing its bell once more. He strolled in, walking straight to the counter of the cafe. His focused expression quickly changed to a calculating one, realizing the size of the lineup ahead of him. He was going to be here for longer than he thought.

He sighed, finally taking a moment to look around the cafe. Unlike you, he didn’t come here often… So he didn’t exactly expect to see you in such a rush.

And you looked good. Beautiful, truly. You appeared to be dressed for a date, with delicate makeup adorning your features and a cute dress making you look your best. He couldn't help but wonder who you were meeting and if they were in the line with him. As he continued to observe, he noticed a slight hint of nervousness in your demeanor, causing him to feel a pang of sympathy. 

His lips parted slightly at the sight, and especially the thought of you on a date that wasn't with him. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was pining over you. He would change his path to his office for you just to see your face. Sometimes he would think of you while he was doing his experiments. Hell — he would even scribble little doodles on his lab papers daydreaming about you, and then he’d have to reprint them to keep his work ‘professional’.

Growing impatient in line, he tapped the tips of his fingers together, looking in your direction. He thought for a moment. You looked unoccupied, taking a sip of your drink and scrolling on your phone. “She probably doesn’t want anyone bothering her," he thought to himself. But his urge to talk to you outweighed his anxiety.

A rare surge of confidence came over him, and he found his legs leaving the line of customers and walking over to you as his brain screamed at him not to move.

He cleared his throat, and sat in the seat in front of you. A nervous smile peaked through his lips, and you looked up from your phone in surprise. Why was such an important scientist sitting in front of you while you weren’t working? And more importantly… Why with you? 

His sudden presence made you freeze up for a second. You came back and scrambled to think of what to say, when he filled the silence.

“Hey! I was just stoppin’ by for a quick coffee and I wanted to say hi, uh-” He awkwardly extended his hand for you to shake it. “Damn it, why did I do that? This is casual, not business!” he thought.

He was relieved when you looked back up at him, smiling, and shaking his hand. Noticing a little confusion on your face made him nervous, as he obviously didn’t want to explain the whole “I have a crush on you” and that he had impulsively gotten himself sitting in front of you.

He quickly changed the subject and asked how you were doing, hoping to steer the conversation away from his moment of awkwardness. If it was any other day, you would've responded with the typical "I'm good, how are you?" But today was different.

"Kinda shit," you said bluntly, forgetting who he was and a tad surprised at your own response. Although he was worried, he was amused by your frankness. "You?"

"I'm fine, don't worry about me. But what's up? Did something happen?" He asked, not realizing how worried he had come off, and not really caring.

"Well," you said, trying to be as honest as possible without sounding like an ass.

"I planned a date with someone, but they didn't show." You explained briefly, a little embarrassed.

"Oh I'm so sorry!" He said, placing a hand on your arm. "They probably didn't deserve you anyway…" He mumbled, a trace of anger in his voice at how someone could make you feel bad about yourself.

 "I appreciate that," you said with a small smile. "But it's okay, I'll just move on and find someone better." You were grateful for his support, but you didn't want to dwell on the disappointment. 

 "You deserve someone who will appreciate and respect your time," he continued, offering a reassuring smile. "But hey, if you're up for it, we could grab some drinks and make the most of the night." 

Your mouth opened partially in shock, but with pleasant surprise. You grin when you see a faint blush spread over his cheeks as he realizes what he had offered.

"I'd like that Dr. Ohnn," You say grinning.

"Oh no please, call me Jonathan." He says, awkwardly.

"Okay," You say, giggling softly. He responds with a smile, his blush deepening.

As you continued chatting, he couldn't help but feel a little nervous around you, wondering if you could sense his attraction. Despite his nerves, he was grateful for the opportunity to finally catch up with you. 

[watchyourdigits]

Falloutober Day One:

War Never Changes

I'm a little late to the party, but here's what I've got for day number one of Falloutober! The main fic for these two is Danse-centric, so I thought it'd be a fun challenge to rewrite the opening scene from Frankie's perspective this time. Enjoy~

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: mild sexual language, canon typical violence

Ship: Paldadin Danse x male Sole Survivor

"What's the plan here?"

Frankie rolled his eyes behind his gas mask, barely suppressing a groan. His newly acquired commanding officer had been, up until that very moment, the one calling the shots.

Why would Danse, an otherwise by-the-book kind of man, hand him the reins without warning? The question served as an obvious test; it wasn't as if this so-called 'Paladin' had been anything but wary of him thus far.

Now, facing down an unknown number of super mutants, he was suddenly leaving Frankie to figure out the best course of action.

He wouldn't know subtlety if it smacked him clean across his stupid, perfect face.

Frankie peered above the bushes they were squatting behind to get a better look at the camp. He did a quick visual scan of the place before pulling his head back down behind cover.

"I see three, but there's definitely more."

He tried to explain that his preferred method of sneak-attack wouldn't be as effective with super mutants as it would with human enemies, but the Paladin cut him off.

Typical.

Frankie tapped his fingers against his thigh impatiently as he was, once again, chastised for his manner of dress.

"You'd see better if you weren't wearing that ridiculous thing."

That tone of his was enough to make Frankie grimace. Despite his disarming good looks, Danse was proving no different than the military officials he served before the whole world went to shit. Society was functionally nonexistent and all Danse could seem to think about was arbitrary uniform codes.

Maybe you should just, I dunno, show him your ugly fuckin' mug? Then he'd get it.

He knew that was never truly an option, but it was nonetheless entertaining to imagine Danse's reaction to the grand reveal that he'd been on the receiving end of an unsightly facial disfigurement.

Deathclaws and power armor... Bad combo. Should probably warn him about that...

Frankie opted to ignore him, a momentous exercise of restraint on his behalf, the likes of which the Paladin would probably never be able to appreciate.

"It's not my favorite idea, but how's about you provide covering fire and I'll go in guns blazing?" he said confidently.

"I suppose it's not the worst plan in the world," Danse replied, shrugging his hulking, metal-clad shoulders, drawing an unseen smirk from Frankie at the sight of it. "You point, I shoot."

It was all too obvious that Danse didn't think he'd succeed. Frankie wasn't one to take such a challenge lightly. Hell, if a deathclaw and the literal end of the world couldn't take him down, he was practically invincible, right?

Frankie gave a smug smile behind his mask, clapping Danse on the shoulder.

"Good man. I'll see you on the other side."

He gave a quick two-finger salute, knowing damn well it was sure to piss Danse off to no end since it wasn't the classic Brotherhood salute he'd been taught. Just before he slid down the side of the hill, he caught a glimpse of Danse's face as expression changed to that of a man questioning his life choices.

He sure is somethin'... Guess this shit ain't so different from how it used to be, though. Murderin' everythin' in sight, dealing with annoying military bullshit… Annoying commanding officers with big ole cow eyes. Tryin' not to think about how good said commanding officer would look on his knees…

Frankie shook his head, trying to reel himself back in. He could dwell on his perversions later. Right now, he had to prove he was all he claimed and then some.

God, if you can hear me, just know that I think you're a real sick sonuvabitch.

"Two-hundred years on ice and a fella still can't catch a fuckin' break," he mumbled to himself.

He loaded his shotgun as he approached the first mutie he saw guarding the entrance to the camp. He noticed Frankie far too late.

Before the lumbering abomination could open his mouth to alert the others in his company, a laser fired from the hillside hit him square in the chest. He stumbled a little and Frankie finished him off with two shots to the head, whistling low.

He's a phenomenal shot, I'll give him that. Good timing, too.

Frankie took great delight in the easy flow of the battle. The mutants were slow to react, giving him ample time to sort out his strategy as he went. He made his way through the camp, drawing out his enemies toward the chaos and systematically taking them down, ducking behind cover to reload as Danse provided covering fire from above.

When things finally settled and the last of the super mutants fell, he allowed himself a moment to relish in the silence that rang in his ears. Frankie pulled up his mask just enough to spit on the ground, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

The mask fell back into place as he reached the entrance of the camp, giving a thumbs up in Danse's general direction. The Paladin was down the hill and standing before him within seconds.

"Great work up there," Frankie commended. He understood better than most the value in having a trained set of eyes looking out. "Good to know you've got my back."

Danse began removing the helmet of his power armor. Frankie felt a tug in his gut, firmly aware of the way his jaw hung open like an idiot upon watching him run a hand through that thick, dark hair of his. His mind began to wander as Danse's mouth moved, Frankie only barely hearing the words he spoke.

"Same to you, soldier. It's been a while since I've seen potential like that."

Danse sounded genuine about it, too. For half a second, Frankie found himself delusional enough to believe that perhaps he was flirting. With a subordinate, no less.

Just keep it casual, for once in your goddamn life. No sudden advances.

"I told you I had military experience," Frankie replied jokingly, testing the waters. "Did you think I was lyin'?" he asked, leaning himself against one of the rotting wooden fences, paying no mind to the super mutant blood that now called it home.

"No. However, your secrecy leaves you with a lot to prove."

There it is. Damn… Audacious prick.

"Is that so?" Frankie drawled, huffing a little through his nose. "Remind me to tell Elder Maxson that he should give you a promotion."

Danse raised an eyebrow. Of course it was the one with the scar through it. Frankie felt heat traveling up his neck, choking him.

He wanted nothing more than to grab him by those stupid handles of his power armor, pull him down to his level, and-

"Why is that?" Danse asked curiously, cocking his head.

"Because I'll be the best damn thing that's happened to the Brotherhood yet," Frankie answered without missing a beat.

"That's a bold claim. I admire your ambition."

Danse sounded amused, much to Frankie's dismay.

He kept bringing the conversation to the brink of what could constitute flirting. It was maddening, especially as Frankie's body continued to relax, muscles melting under his skin as the adrenaline faded away.

"Bold? I've earned my ego, pal."

Frankie pushed off the fence and had to look away from Danse, growing increasingly concerned that his impulses might cause him to do something idiotic. Like give him a right hook. Or kiss him. Maybe both.

"Maybe one day you'll get it through that thick skull of yours..." Frankie continued bitterly, "I'm not your average wastelander."

He turned on his heel and stalked away into the camp to loot it for all it was worth. A good enough distraction as any, he figured.

The backhanded compliments, the unsolicited commentary on his attire, and the fact that Danse was the most delicious thing he'd laid his eyes on… Frankie knew he was in for a hell of a time working with the Brotherhood of Steel.

Despite all his tense irritation, there was the undeniable feeling of 'home' that came with working with Danse.

It was all so familiar, comforting in a sentimental way. And Frankie was a sentimental bastard, if there ever was one.

Yeah, nothin's changed a lick.

[delirim]

@survivoirs said: ' 1️⃣ for Morpheus '

A  rift  in  the  fabric  of  the  universe,  spurred  by  an  infant  need  for  splendor  and  elation  and  all  things  delightful.  Rolling,  emerald  hills  house  the  blossoms  of  joys  yet  undiscovered  by  man,  but  that  lie  perfectly,  happily  in  wait.  Felt  by  celestial  and  heavenly  bodies  in  plenty.

Were  it  not  for  Destiny,  she'd  have  no  place,  no  pages  to  exist  within.

Were  it  not  for  Death,  there'd  be  no  life  to  celebrate.  And  Dream,  no  reverie.  Destruction,  no  renewal.  She  is  the  natural  consequence  of  Desire  and  Despair;  the  want  that  brings  promise  of  satisfaction,  the  pain  a  reminder  of  what  exists  at  its  opposite  pole.  Without  Delight,  there  can  be  no  despairing.  Without  Delight,  why  the  need  to  desire?  To  yearn?  To  thirst,  or  feel  hunger?

Delight  of  the  Endless  makes  her  presence  known  not  with  an  excitable  bang,  but  a  simpler  gesture—  one  quite  beyond  her  control.  A  new  sigil  appears  in  the  gallery  of  each  Endless  before  her,  positioned  beside  Despair's  fishhook  ring.  A  blossom,  simple  in  form  but  magnificent  in  color.

Her  own  gallery  bares  the  same  seven  symbols.  Markers  of  siblings  she's  not  yet  had  the  pleasure  of  speaking  to,  but  who  she  feels  she  already  knows.  Yes,  intrinsically  she  knows  her  siblings.  Knows  them  as  naturally,  as  readily  as  she  knows  the  landscape  of  her  realm.

Even  so,  the  dark  shape  that  appears  in  her  domain  takes  her  by  mighty  surprise.  Like  ink  splotched  across  a  painting.  A  void  which  stretches  the  emerald  grass  thin  into  nothing.  And  at  first  she  wonders  if  her  newborn world  is  experiencing  its  first  hiccup,  but  realizes  soon  enough.

Her  brother.

Delight  appears  as  a  small,  frangible  thing  with  cropped  hair  and  a  diaphanous  dress  the  color  of  the  sky.  Her  feet  are  bare  and  her  eyes  are  wide,  inquisitive.

A  tree  makes  itself  a  convince  to  her,  and  she  hides  rather  unsuccessfully  behind  its  trunk  to  gawk  at  her  elder  sibling  in  hopes  that  he  might  not  yet  see  her...  He  does.  How  couldn't  he?  Her  fingers  are  pale  against  the  trunk,  and  her  head appears perfectly within view.

What a big, scary-looking thing.

[lewkwoodnco]

a week in the life of London's youngest agency head (insp.)

[merakiui]

going back to read your contractual fwb azul cause it’s my favourite fic ever and i have to wonder; what would azul do if you never used his wishes to your own advantage? like it was always small stuff, so you ended up having to get a new job (sex is banned and let’s pretend like theres some random cafe on sage island or something like that you’re picking up shifts. just not the monstro lounge) and the hours you work there give him less time. would he beg you to use his money? to take advantage of him? it feels like the terms he picked also come from a domestic standpoint of wanting to provide for you. and your new job is really getting in the way of that. rely on him and no one else >:(

(also i’d like to imagine you falling asleep sitting in his lap in his office chair sometime before the confession so he carries you back to his room and you spend the night. the next morning you wake up to him pulling away and in your extremely sleep deprived mind you get upset that he’s leaving. cue him promising he’ll be back—maybe a quick round just so he can get you to wish it and no it’s definitely not because he wants sleepy morning sex—and eventually he comes to wake you back up with flowers, tea (you know the one), and telling you you have a day off somehow.) thank you for listening to my tiny brain rambles

hiiiiiii this is just a question i forgot to add to my last ask that i submitted like 2 seconds ago.

how does your relationship with azul go now that you’re actually in one and not just fwb? like does he still spoil you with whatever you ask for in exchange for sex or just give it to you and sex happens whenever? (more than the average couple cause, cmon) he gave you the fish shoes even though you lost so it stands that he’d spoil the hell out of you whenever he can

- - -

Hi hiiii!! :D omg contractual fwb tako..... I miss thinking about that fic. Peak Azul is him developing a relationship with darling via contractual means and slowly but surely the feelings shift (through dubious efforts hehehe). >:D that dynamic is just so *chef's kiss*!!!!!

Oooo if reader got a job!!! If not at the lounge, which is secretly what Azul hopes, then the place better pay good wages and the hours and work better be reasonable!! >:( he won't have his angelfish struggle. Maybe he'd even visit you during your shifts on occasion and make up some excuse like "I need to know what sort of competition the lounge has" blah blah blah etc etc even though it's quite clear he's checking up on you. T_T I like to think Azul wants you to take advantage of him because it's a deal in which you're both using the other for certain things, so wouldn't that make the most sense?? That's how the logic works in his give-and-take, equivalent-exchange brain.

Azul gets really particularly when it comes to giving gifts and he always seems to want a valid reason for the exchange (like in Glomas where he buys souvenirs for his dorm so that they can remember this good deed and know that they are technically indebted to him even though to Deuce and Epel it appears as though he's just being a kind Housewarden). But also,,, he's so iffy when it comes to accepting gifts himself and always seems to think there's some underlying reason behind it. ^^;; perhaps he'd just feel more comfortable if you were openly using him and this deal to your benefit just as he's doing the same with you. It's probably why he even makes the terms so domestic because, beneath all of the pompous showmanship and businessman flair, he genuinely wants to provide for you and make your life better and be your beloved. <3 but because he's Azul he can't just tell you that. >_<

AAAAA FALLING ASLEEP IN HIS OFFICE!!!!! OTL waking up in his bed all bleary-eyed and sleepy....... grabbing at his arm and begging him to stay,,, the sleepy morning sex... maybe it's the one moment he allows just some of his defenses to fall because most of yours are nonexistent in this moment. Having sex just to have sex without any thoughts about your contract..... of course he's still going to remind you later and insist you use one of your wishes/favors since you technically indulged him with sex, but then you wanted it, too. He's so fussy!!!! Please just ask him for something—anything! He isn't going to beg, but sometimes you really do make him contemplate it when you're so determined to not make use of him and his connections.

You're one of Azul's greatest weaknesses and if you know this then you can easily exploit this because this tako adores you. He is so utterly whipped. Whatever you want, you can have it. Spoiling you is one of his many love languages. He loves giving you gifts, especially when he knows they'll make you happy. Like those silly fish slippers. They are so dumb, but they make his angelfish smile and that's enough reason to purchase them for you. I think once you're in a real relationship the fwb contract is dissolved, but a lot of what you did during those two months still occurs into your relationship. Like the smoldering tension and the chemistry. The silly banter and smart quips. The attraction. And of course lots of love (real and potion-induced mwahaha) and sex. He railed you once in mer form and you better believe he'll do it again now that he's slowly finding the confidence to do so with you.

[crystalflygeo]

The dragon and the sacrificial lamb ft. eroded!Morax + gn!reader

cw/tags: angst, no joke I cried writing this, bittersweet ending, rough sex, feral/eroded zhongli, restraints (courtesy of improper use of geo as usual ehe) fingering, dubcon at first maybe??

notes: Alright this is a special one get ready. There's two "version" of this story bc I couldn't decide which path I liked more. This one is the bittersweet ending. Both stories are exactly the same at the start, changing a few word here and there but then reach a point where they divert completely in reactions/emotions and the underlying feeling of the stories are very different. They can be read independently ofc so by all means feel free to choose which tags you vibe with more or enjoy picking up the differences between both!

Dark/Bad ending version here!!

Once upon a time…

A long, long time ago…

The people of Liyue revered their beloved Archon Rex Lapis. Just and kind, he led his nation for millennia, upholding order and contracts, defeating countless enemies,a nd defending their safe harbor.

It is said the Lord of Geo took a human as partner, and fell in love deep and pure.

And his partner loved him just as much.

Willing to do anything for his sake.

It is said the God understood that even he himself was not immune to erosion, and it would one day be his downfall. So, he made sure his people were ready to live on without him. That his adepti were strong enough to subdue him if the day ever came.

As for his lover… well…

-----

Your bare feet crunch along the soft grass as you run and run, panting, gasping for air, almost tripping and letting out a yelp but quickly regaining balance and scurrying faster, past the falling golden ginkgo leaves, past the soft sound of rushing waters.

The golden sunset is gorgeous, dying the sky pink and orange with pastel hues but you simply ignore it, having grown tired of it, sick even. It is fake, an illusion. Just as everything else in this adeptal abode.

Everything except, of course, you and the beast you are currently fleeing from.

It is useless to try to escape, this you know, and your heart clenches painfully as tears prickle at your eyes. You’ve done this before, played this game many many times. But at least for one moment… just one moment…

A roar turns your blood to ice and against all common sense you look over your shoulder to see a massive long dragon twisting in the air and diving straight towards you.

Your legs tremble and fail you as you fall down, the grass is soft but your body aches, tired, burning. You scramble around frantically to stare at the beast again and your eyes widen in panic as it lands right on top of you, majestic and terrifying, caging you with its serpentine body. The golden claws alone are as long as your forearms, digging on the ground at either side of you.

You whimper.

The dragon lowers his head, growling at you, fangs mere inches apart and you squeeze your eyes shut, tears running down your face.

“Why do you run away from me?”

“Please… I just want some time to myself.”

“Are you not happy with me? My mate?”

At the words you only sob harder.

Mate.

Oh, how much joy did that word bring you once. And now you can only feel your heart shatter.

You feel a shift in the wind, in the energy, in the light around you, and when you open your eyes, the massive dragon has faded to a more human appearance. He changes back to the form you’re most used to.

Long strands of dark hair tipped amber, striking golden eyes with stunning red lines that highlight their sharpness, a handsome face and a muscular body with arms died black, and lines of gold… lines that run along his cheek and down his neck. Cracks, like a broken glass, like scars, under his eyes and around his chest, ruining the pristine skin and unable to disappear despite his ability to change forms.

The undeniable marks of erosion.

You snap back to attention when he dips down and starts nosing at your neck, his hands pulling at the robe you’re wearing, the only article of clothing you picked up before scurrying away from the mansion. It parts open easily, revealing your naked body to his eyes, littered in past bruises, hickeys and bite marks. Claims from the dragon.

"W-wait. Stop-!" You try to push him back, desperately pressing your palms against his broad shoulders, but of course he's unmovable as stone.

You kick and trash until he gets irritated and suddenly your arms are immobilized, held above your head and pressed onto the very ground by heavy geo cuffs.

“Submit.” He growls.

You squirm a little more until your body sags into the ground, exhausted, panting. There is no use. Instead, you shudder as his hands explore your body, rough and callous but still gentle despite his displays of power.

He spreads your legs and slots between them as your breath catches. His thumb softly brushes at a spot on your navel lovingly, a glittering geo symbol engraved on your skin there, glowing subtly like his horns. You let out a moan.

Then his touch goes lower and teases at your entrance, circling the hole and dipping in just barely.

“Z-Zhongli-!”

Another growl comes out of his throat, deep and guttural. “You dare speak another man’s name in my presence? In my realm? When you belong to me?”

You gulp, knot in your throat, mind dizzy, heart and body aching.

And then you smile. Softly. Pained.

“Morax, my love… n-not so rough, please…” You whisper.

The eroded God leans down to kiss you, swallowing your moans when his fingers tease, rub and pull at your hole, spreading you a little, preparing you. His long serpentine tongue invades your mouth as his free hand teases a nipple before sliding to settle at your hip. Your body relaxes and melts down onto the grass, pliant for him.

When you break apart, you see pure love and adoration in his golden eyes, but they no longer carry that wisdom, that solemn and dignified depth. Only a primal desire to keep you, claim you, breed you.

It’s alright…

This was your choice.

Blinking back tears, you moan and struggle a little against the restraints on your wrists, two of Morax’s fingers already pressing deep and curling inside you. You see stars when he quickly finds that spot that shoots pleasure up your spine, having already memorized it. Your sex leaking fluids and spurring him on.

Then, Morax pulls out and you feel the tip of his cock press against you, you gasp, back arching as he slowly presses forward inside your warm heat with a pleased groan.

“S-so big… ah!” You whimper, bucking your hips on reflex.

“My mate. So pretty. I will fill you up.” He mumbles, eyes half-lidded as he rolls his hips, inch after inch sinking into you languidly until he sheathes to the hilt, your legs spread around him. Morax slides his large hands around your hips, lifting them to pull closer and deeper, the new angle making his cockhead press deep against your sweet spot. He wastes no time thrusting in and out, gradually picking up the pace.

It's almost tender.

Soft keening sounds escape your lips as you lock your legs around his lower back, your feet resting atop the base of his tail which whips around wildly as he starts fucking faster. You feel the world blur around you, all that exists is you two and the mounting pleasure, the wet sounds and the slapping of skin against skin.

“Morax… Morax… ah! I’m… I’m c-close…”

He grunts and redoubles his efforts, hands pressing bruising spots at your hips, your insides clenching around him. “Mine.” He growls possessively, and you nod and chant his name over and over. Everything feels hot, dizzy, so much- too much-

You come with a filthy cry tumbling out of your lips, slick juices rolling down your skin. He continues through your overstimulated state, chasing his own pleasure as his thrust become erratic until finally, he stills deep inside and moans long and low, painting your insides white.

The two of you ride out your orgasms in tandem, then he drapes over you, kissing your skin softly and making you sigh.

“My love, please, release me?” You try, struggling against the cuffs once again. “I want to touch you.”

“No.” He snarls. “You’ll only try to escape again.”

“I-I won’t… hng… I promise. I’m yours.” You reply breathless, full of emotion.

Morax eyes you with a stern expression, contemplating for a moment before letting out a soft huff. You feel the geo cuffs dissipate into golden dust, your aching limbs free, though sore, but you ignore it as your hand weakly cups his cheek, thumb rubbing at the golden scars there. Morax leans into the soft touch, nuzzling your palm.

“Love you.” The eroded dragon mutters, and you imagine it’s your lover telling you, despite his decaying fractured mind.

“I… I love you too.” You reply softly, bittersweet tears rolling down your face.

Forever and always.

-----

…It is said that his lover made the ultimate sacrifice.

Willingly locked with the eroded god in a sealed realm, to keep him ensnared, enchanted and bound to them.

Until they both turn to dust.

[silvergyus]

GIRL DAD YEONJUN IS A BIG YES LIKE OML I STALKED THROUGH YOUR HEADCANONS LIKE AN ABSOLUTE MADWOMAN i do not regret it its 7am and im melting from the fluffiness of it all

but what about the other members 👀

how would they be as a girldad and as a boydad? i’d love to see your take on it!

omg omg thank you so much anon🩷 we must be on opposite sides of the world lol

hehe I feel like I have differing opinions than the rest of moablr but please headcanon what you like!

txt as dads

⋆｡°✩ Yeonjun:

I obviously believe in girl dad!yeonjun supremacy (read more here and here) but I feel like he could also have an extremely cool son- think adult-size sunglasses too big for his lil face. a taste for fashion when his friends are wearing those horrendous neon Nike shorts. but yeonjun's daughter would be such a daddy's girl and he would be a girl dad first and foremost. yeonjun isn't as into video games as some of the other members so I feel like his son (or daughter) wouldn't be as into them as the kids of the other members either

rest of the members under the cut

⋆｡°✩ Soobin:

I believe in girl dad!soobin because 1.) it's the most adorable thing ever and 2.) I think it would be so funny

hear me out, we obviously saw him with the twins but he said he was super nervous going into that since he is only used to hanging out with his nephew. imagine soobin with two daughters having his first son and he thinks it's gonna be a breeze since "boys are easier" but boy, was he wrong. his cutie son is a lot to handle and it turns out raising a boy from birth is a *lot* different than being a leader

like every other moa, I can see soob having the most kids. he just seems like the type of guy to have kids hanging off of him. plays video games with his kids but is also very strict about them washing their face/brushing their teeth. reads to them a lot and gets sucked into the storybooks they read together even when it's something silly like the day the crayons quit (a favorite of mine when I was a student librarian hehe)

⋆｡°✩ Beomgyu:

BOY DAD!!! I know girl dad!beomgyu is so popular but I just feel in my heart that he is a boy dad!! picture him and his son in matching sunglasses and tshirts. those silly ones with like "the original" on his and "the remix" on his son's. would call the baby "beomgyu junior" the whole pregnancy but once the baby was born he would have a million lil nicknames for that kid.

I can specifically picture beomgyu getting one of the other members to both go out with their babies in carriers on their chests and they just wave to everyone they see with the babies' hands. like, use the babies' hands to wave instead of theirs

boy dad beomgyu who builds the best pillowforts and is the best at play fighting and buys the coolest nerf guns and foam swords. boy dad beomgyu who had a special relationship with his dad and carries those traditions on with his kids. boy dad beomgyu who plays guitar for his kids and they think he's the coolest dad ever

if he has a daughter, she totally roughhouses with the boys but she gets princess treatment when she sits on daddy's lap while he plays guitar, her tiny fingers resting on the wood so she can feel the vibrations of the music. her big eyes filled with such deep appreciation for the music.

⋆｡°✩ Taehyun:

hmmm, honestly I also feel boy dad but he has a science son :) his wide-eyed son with glow in the dark stars on his ceiling and an ant farm and he exclusively wears dinosaur tshirts. taehyun and him nerd out together all the time. his son loves the planetarium and the library and also is in all the school plays. plays minecraft with beomgyu's son and soobin's oldest daughter

however, I can also see tyun's kids playing a lot of soccer (I can see him with two boys, close in age). they both would be on the soccer team that he assistant coaches (thank you @https-yeonjun for that headcanon<3). they are both into soccer- just like their daddy- and the one is into a bunch of other sports so he's always off to practice somewhere with his grass-stained knees and toothy grin. the three of them would spend match days glued to the tv to watch their favorite team. he'd buy them all matching jerseys for their favorite team too, with each of their favorite players names on the back

also taehyun would absolutely get a cat for his kids and they would have a chore wheel for days on who feeds it/ cleans the litterbox

if tyun had a daughter she would have the highest standards as a grown-up like. not quite spoiled like yeonjun's daughter, but omg the absolute most princess treatment of all time. that girl would have all her oranges peeled and her juice poured in her favorite cup and her hair brushed and she would never walk because she'd want to be carried everywhere and her daddy is strong so he carries her. she totally wears the matching soccer jerseys with her brothers and daddy too like, c'mon. soccer jersey and tutu and she absolutely crushes the other team when she's on the field

⋆｡°✩ Hyuka:

I feel like hyuka girl dad??? I also feel like he has the second most kids behind soobin. his daughter is just like him, effortlessly good at playing musical instruments. she plays like 4 and the house is always full of music. he's really calm as a dad and he isn't super shook when his kids act up. really good at gentle parenting and loves to teach his kids through their shared interests.

his daughter's bed is absolutely full of plushies. she def collects them and names them and they have a special order they have to go in on her bed. she sleeps with them all every night and gives each one a kiss before she goes to sleep. he takes her to the store and is the biggest enabler of her collection. he says he isn't spoiling her, just gifting her as a fellow collector, but we know she's spoiled

you know how hyuka is a copy-and-paste of his dad? if he has a son it's 100% gonna be a carbon copy of him. like, that boy is a HUENING and everyone can tell. tallest kid in his grade and has the exact same laugh and nose and eye crinkles.

any hueningkids would absolutely LOVE pokemon though, just like their dad. and they would totally get a dog and name it eevee

[reverse1999fics]

humbly requesting a Forget Me Not x reader because I’ve been starving for Forget Me Not content ahhhhhhhhh! Maybe the reader is like a regular quest at the Walden and he’s grown fond of them or something!!

Ahh I loved this idea so much! I definitely had fun writing this!!

Forget Me Not x Gender-Neutral Reader

Such a shame

A beautiful specimen, they were. Often he would see them and think how much of a waste it would be for them to fall into the hands of the storm

Everyday, Mr. Forget Me Not would be blessed with light. A smile so bright, heaven looked dim. A laugh so enchanting, music was nothing compared to it. He'd never come to terms with the fact he was under this spell, a spell that was cast by some non-arcanist scum. He should think that, but he couldn't bring himself to be with such a mindset. They were wonderful, and it was the best part of his day, seeing them come in.

The familiar chime of a bell was loud in such a quiet place, the door was opened and someone very special was coming in for their usual. Forget Me Not smiles to himself, as he recognized the small 'tap tap tap's of their shoes.

With a deep breath, he braced himself for beauty as he turned around to face his customer. "Good evening Mx. (Y/N), it's a pleasure to see you." He smiled spreading his hands to lean on the countertop in front of him so he could lean forward and perhaps down a bit and get a good look at them.

"Mr. Forget Me Not, it's wonderful to see such a handsome face again." They smiled back, sitting down on one of the bar stools and setting their bag on the floor, entangling their legs with the straps.

Forget Me Not chuckled, a light dust of red leaving a barely visible residue on his pale cheeks. "You're too kind, it is you who is handsome. Beautiful in fact, it's not often I see someone stop by that could rival your looks." He said, leaning forward and leaning on his hand, watching as their face lit a bright red.

They brought their hand up to their face, covering their smile and they laughed lightly. "A charmer as always", their eyes closed and they brought their other hand up to help cover the big smile and rosey cheeks from the man in front of them.

"My dear, why must you always hide such a beautiful smile from me? It breaks my heart to think you're ashamed of it." Forget Me Not says, reaching out his hand and lightly grabbing one of theirs.

He grasped their skin, wishing he wasn't wearing his gloves so he could feel their skin on his own. Slowly, he leaned forward while bringing their hand closer, closing his eyes while kissing their knuckles ever so gently.

The action only made their face blush more, a more nervous laugh let out by them as they looked away.

"You're too much." They said, posture more tense than before. It wasn't a bad thing, their reaction, the two had the same interaction everyday.

'It would truly be a waste for them to be victim of the storm', Forget Me Not thought to himself. His actions were justified, he told himself. Watching in the midst of chaos as they, his dear light, fell under the actions of Manus Vindicate, the oozing mask covering their face and dripping onto their silk clothes and skin.

[toxintouch]

yk how in veres likes on his character sheet it says he like cooking (badly)…… WHY HAS NO ONE DONE A FIC ABOUT THAT YET‼️⁉️⁉️ THAT SHOULD NOTTT BE A WASTED OPPORTUNITY. i’m not even joking im ab to send this to so many people because i can’t let this go to waste 😞

Here u are anon!  For the record, you are completely free to send this prompt around wherever you’d like!  It was such a fun idea, I’d love to see more takes on it. ^^

Warnings: Vere talking Innuendos? Innuendos.  So many, and I don’t guarantee that they are funny lol.  Just a general silly vibe and imo: absolutely  tooth rotting fluff.

‧₊˚ ��� 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅SOUS CHEF ‧₊˚♡₊˚

You find yourself wandering through Lowtown during the lunch hour, trying to decide what sounds like a good meal.

Your mouth waters at the scents being carried on the breeze, a plethora of pleasant aromas wafting out of the eateries nestled inside the Amaryllis District, so fragrant that you can smell them all the way down on the bustling streets of Lowtown as long as you stay downwind.

However, if there’s one nice thing about knowing Leander it's that you also know you don’t have to go that far (or spend that much) for a delicious lunch. 

Near enough to the Wet Wick, there’s a series of side streets that make up an eclectic amalgamation of Lowtown and the Amaryllis District, and in it: a small and inconspicuous eatery.  The menu changes often, though you aren’t sure if that’s out of innovation or necessity, but the food is always filling and reasonably priced.

You follow the winding streets, getting lost for a brief moment before correcting your course, traveling until you see colorful chipped girih tiles and wide, clean windows.  You let yourself into the shop, the now familiar sound of hinges in need of an oiling welcoming you.  

There’s an assortment of goods on display–jars of honey and spiced fruit and loaves of braided bread with seeds–all kept safely locked away beneath an enchanted pane of glass.

Looking around, though, you don’t see anyone selling said fantastic wares.

You call out, expecting the shop keep or her wife to come running but instead you hear…silence.

Followed by a loud metallic clatter.

You freeze, unsure what to do, what the threat is–if there’s even a threat?–but before you can make up your mind, you’re greeted by a most unexpected sight.

Vere comes out of the kitchen area, his hair swept into an artfully stunning up-do that reveals the long line of his neck and clavicle, blemished only by the heavy collar locked around his throat. 

He’s wearing a weighty linen apron over his clothing, presumably to protect his outfit, though–his long gossamer sleeves are completely discordant with the notion, making you think that maybe the apron is more of an aesthetic choice.

“What’s this–?  A mouse?  In my kitchen?” Vere asks playfully as you continue to stare, dumbfounded.  He wields a spatula in his hand like a weapon–swatching it into his off-hand like a riding crop with a decisive snap.

“Where is–?”

“–The shop keep?  Wherever she pleases–the shop’s closed on Mondays.”

(You really don’t like the way he’s watching you…  Or the way he keeps inching closer…)

You take a step backwards, your eyes never leaving his.  “Oh,” you say, bandaged hands reaching blindly behind you.  “I didn’t realize.  The door was unlocked, so…”  You trail off.

You find the doorknob at last.  You attempt to turn it only to find that it won’t budge.

“Was it?”

Vere saunters up to you, tail swaying behind him.  You manage to tear your eyes away from his predator stare to search for possible exits, though you know for a fact you won’t be fast enough.   You look back and he’s already in your space, crowding you against the entryway.

(He smells really good, actually.  Like leather and spice and the subtle cling of perfume and incense.  And beneath that, something–earthy–animalistic, but in a way that’s intoxicating as opposed to unpleasant.)

“I was just about to make myself a snack–how nice that a snack came to me.”

“Stop playing around.” You try to steel yourself and inject the perfect amount of scolding into your voice while combating his heated stare.  “I know you’re just fucking with me to try and get a reaction; you and I both know you’re not going to eat me.” 

If he was, he would have done it by now.  Sometime within the weeks you’ve known him.  …Probably. 

Unless he just likes to play with his food.

“I didn’t realize you knew me so well,”  he says, looking amused.  “Perhaps I didn’t plan to, but now I simply can’t resist.  You look so absolutely delectable, how could I possibly contain myself?”

You don’t get the chance to reply.  Vere’s countenance changes suddenly–you watch his ears flatten a second before you hear the screaming whistle of a teapot.  His ears twitch in annoyance at the sound, his perfectly sculpted face showing a sour sneer.  He gives you a sideways glance, calculating.

“Then again.  I find myself in need of a sous chef.  Congratulations on your promotion.  Come along now.”  He hooks a finger into your cloak and pulls you easily into the kitchen.  (To be fair, you don’t struggle.  Anyone would want to see where this is going, right?)

He releases you once you’ve crossed over the threshold, waving his fingers uncaringly towards a second apron affixed to a hook on the wall as he beelines to remove a glass teapot from the stove and stifle the noise.  He moves quickly as you watch, casually throwing aside the spatula in his hand in favor of an ornate silver teaspoon.  He measures a vibrantly colored tea into the inlaid steeping container of the equally ornate teapot and takes a pleased inhale as the tea’s fragrance blooms, humming as he flips over a delicate hourglass to keep track of the steeping time.

There’s silence for a moment–

Him watching the teapot and you watching him.

“Well?”  He asks, without looking up.  You’ve seen this look before, you think – this pensive, almost lonesome look that makes your heart ache against all better judgment.  “Staying or going?”

He grins when you put on the apron.  You search his face for some sincerity, but he’s all sharp teeth and tall ears, covering any glimpses of deeper emotion with a sheen of smugness.  He circles you once you have the apron on, taking in the image.

“Mm, don’t you just look adorable.  Very domesticated.”

You’re pretty sure that the word he’s looking for is domestic. But of course, he knows what he said and he meant to say it.  You decide that he’s probably betting on your correction, already armed with a witty retort.  You smooth the apron down while pointedly looking away, deciding that you won’t give him the satisfaction.  You hear him chuckle.

Since you’re avoiding looking at Vere, you look around the kitchen for the first time.

It’s a spacious workspace–moreso than the storefront, even.  There’s a large iron stove unlike anything you’ve ever seen, covered with magical runes and dials, with a large hearth built into the belly of it.  A plethora of pots and pans have been placed on the burners, left to sizzle and pop in the red hot heat.  

Oil is singing from the heated, shallow basins but you don’t see anything cooking inside.  

There’s a slab of meat diced into neat squares and a heaping bowl of lumpy batter set to the side of the stove top.

“What are you making?”  You ask, trying to make sense of the scene.

“Panko crusted fish filet.  And there’s a pasta in the oven.  For dessert, I was thinking–” he gives you a sly look, one that makes your ears feel warm, “hmm, well.  I just had a much better idea in regards to dessert.”  He makes a show of licking his fangs, the movements of his tongue slow and sensual.

You think you tied your apron too tight; your airway is feeling a little constricted.  It seems to be getting worse the longer you watch.

You clear your throat, tearing your eyes away.  More ingredients, most partially prepared, and a host of dirtied pots and pans greet you.  You turn your back to him as you explore, fully engrossed in all of the views that the mess of a kitchen has to offer.  You’re almost afraid to ask: “So, what am I here to help with?”

“Oh?”  You don’t hear Vere come up next to you, but you feel him brushing up against you.  “Does my darling sous chef require…instruction?  A guiding hand, so to speak?”  You freeze, feeling his breath against your ear, shivers running down your spine at his light and teasing chuckle.

But then he’s breezing past you, making a wide dramatic gesture toward the large tome perched surreptitiously on the counter.  “Lucky for you, I’ve a recipe.”  His tail wags swishes elegantly behind him as he beams with pride.

His tail knocks the whisk out of the mystery batter beside the fish filet but he takes no notice.

Vere hops gracefully up onto the counter, reaching for the batter.  He does an impressive twist in order to grab hold of another whisk and you take the time to appreciate that.  Then, with Vere occupied and seemingly ignoring you, you take a look at the recipe book.  

The text is old and withered with the occasional dash of sprawling spidery script painting the margins.  (Said writing is utterly illegible–you’re actually not sure if it’s in a language you can read, though if you squint you think you can see something that looks like the word ‘cake’.)  The page it’s opened to is ripped in half, rendering precious steps of the recipe lost to time.  You spot a mysterious bite mark piercing through the corner of the leather cover.

And can’t stop yourself from surreptitiously glancing over at Vere.  He’s moved on from the batter (which looks as lumpy as it did a minute ago) and is now eating skewers of raw fish with his nails.

“You’re not supposed to eat while you cook,” you say, the time worn words out of your mouth before you can examine your personal stance on them.

“Says who?  Some limp dick?  No shame in indulging, pet.”

“You’re not even gonna have anything left to cook,” you warn.

“Hum, sounds like my sous chef should get to work covering them in batter instead of just standing there before I eat them all.”

You roll your eyes, but follow through with instructions.  The space is unfamiliar and your movements are slow and unsure with Vere looming over you from his perch on high, watching.

One of the pans of oil gives an ominous pop.  “Hmm, sounds like it’s hot enough,” says Vere.  “Move over.”

“Is that safe?”

“For me,” Vere says simply.  “And it’s faster.  Now stand further back or you'll get splattered–and not in the fun way.”  Idly, he tosses a batter covered filet into the shallow pan.  The resulting hiss makes you both cringe.

As if on queue, the hourglass for the tea gives a gentle chime, lighting up with a golden glow.  (You’re beginning to wonder how this humble shop can afford all these magical items, but then again this is the city of secrets.  You’re probably better off not knowing.)  Vere’s ears perk up, pleased.  He tosses the remaining fillets in the pan without a fuss, setting lids on top of each to contain the oil, acting as if doing so is going to stop any potential disaster.

Main course forgotten, he moves on to digging something out from inside one of the many cupboards.  “Be a dear and cut this for me, will you?”  He hands you a delicate peach before heading to the tea pot, stirring the contents and adding what must be a priceless amount of honey.

The peach in your hand is overripe but still vibrant–amazing, as you haven’t seen fresh fruit at all since you came to Eridia.  Your mouth waters anew as you remember what led you here in the first place–your quest for a meal–and you’re almost tempted to take a bite, follow Vere’s advice and sink your teeth in.

“My, my.  I’m almost jealous.  I thought you only looked at me like that.”

Vere shushes the denial from your lips, bossing you around regarding how he wants the peach sliced before shooing you out of his way and finishing his remaining tea preparations,with the look of an artist at work.  The tea is a warm oolong color, made only more alluring once the infusion of peach is complete.

It’s refreshing, too, once Vere serves it to you over ice.

You can almost ignore the great plumes of smoke coming from the oven.

Vere cooks how others might enjoy a leisurely stroll. 

Which is to say, he seems to be having fun, but you’re not convinced he intends on really going anywhere.  Still, there’s a rhythm to it–a dance, though he leads you in expected loops and turns, changes the tune at a moment's notice.  He’ll get bored of the task at hand and find some new spice to peruse, demand you taste test an ingredient or give your opinion on a dizzying new flavor he’s concocted.

(He manages to convince you to sample a bit of cucumber soup from the cold box.  You retch, proclaiming it salty, downing another glass of delicious peach oolong–

“I can still taste it in the back of my throat…!”–and he cackles wildly.)

Thick locks of hair are falling out of his up-do by the time he’s satisfied, framing his face and bringing your attention, again to the inviting line of his clavicle.  He tosses his loose hair over his shoulder, preening.

The recipe book is basically ruined, and the pasta is null and void, but some of the fillets look mildly edible.  The artful garnish is beautiful, at least.  The kale and orange slices really bring out the crispy burnt bits.  Vere seems to enjoy plating the food a great deal, humming and rearranging and circling the display until he deems it arranged to perfection.

He’s elegant when he takes a bite, biting down with a crunch.  His tail goes very still for a moment, then shivers microscopically as he chews.  He swallows in a manner that you can only describe as dignified, dabbing his lips with a napkin.  You wait in anticipation, but Vere says nothing for a long time.  Then, he quietly takes the old recipe book and throws it away.

Thankfully, he doesn’t insist on you trying it too.

You end up snacking on some of the pre-made goods, drinking the remaining tea and lounging at one of the shop’s cozy little tables.  The mood is light and easy, and the view is magnificent.  Outside, there’s nothing but trash littered streets and urchins, but inside…the afternoon glow coming from the window illuminates Vere like a sunset, painting him in dazzling shades of gold and red and bronze.

Vere hums, peering at you pointedly through his sooty lashes.  “So, dessert?”

You can’t imagine the look that comes across your face–whatever it is, it makes Vere laugh.

“What are you giving me that look for?  My intentions are pure.” His voice is a masterclass in syrupy false-innocence.  “As clean as Leander’s bed sheets after–”

“Please don’t finish that sentence and give me any mental images,” you beg.  “I have to sleep there tonight, I’d rather not know.”

“Ignorance is bliss.”  Vere agrees, closing his eyes and appearing to bask in the sun for a moment.  His face does something that you don’t quite catch–some hidden expression–but then, he’s smiling easily.  He must really be relaxed if he can still smile seconds after thinking about Leander.  You’re still admiring him when the shadows against the walls flicker, and suddenly he isn’t sitting next to you any more.

Instead, he’s returning from the kitchen, a tray in hand.

He sets it down in front of you, revealing an assortment of strawberries and an ornate silver porringer of what appears to be melted chocolate.  Vere sets it down on the table, plucking the small dessert spoon from the chocolate once he’s seated across from you again.

“Occasionally, life does offer up something sweet to savor–only for those willing to go out and take it.”  His tongue darts out to lick the chocolate off the spoon in his hand.  He maintains eye contact as his tongue laves across the basin and–embarrassingly–you think you get a little lightheaded from the intensity with which your blood rushes to your face.  The crinkles at the corners of his eyes tell you that he know exactly where your mind has gone.

Setting the spoon down, Vere instead picks up a bare strawberry, leaning in closer to press it gently to your mouth.

The chocolate is overly bitter–a little burnt, perhaps, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when you’re tasting the remnants of it on Vere’s lips.

(Before leaving, you plop a few coins down on the counter as payment.  You brought enough to cover your food…but definitely not enough to cover the mess in the kitchen.  There’s really nothing you can do about that.  

You hope you don’t get blacklisted.  You’d like to come back next Monday.)

Hope you enjoyed if you made it this far! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

[hoshiina]

pairing: akatsuki hyoga x gn!reader (no prns)

request: i wanted to request something of hyoga with a s/o that's reserved just like him, and that even though they were always together, everyone assumed that they were just close friends and nothing more. however it turns out they're married! and everyone is surprised by this; especially moz and homura who thought they knew hyoga to an extent at least lol

warnings: hyoga is very sweet, that's truly about it he's just insanely sweet.

wc: 1100

The two of you were deeply in love. You knew he loved you and he knew you loved him back— and that was enough for both of you. After all these years, there was of course still lots to talk about, but hardly a need to talk about anything. As long as you were together, you couldn’t ask for any more. You had originally met each other at the same dojo, so often people found you training together and naturally as you did things together, you were close to similar people.

The two of you did share a living space and sleep together so while originally you assumed people would catch on that you were a couple rather quickly, considering the lack of affection you display in public the two of you soon realized they probably thought you were just roommates. However, there wasn’t a true need to bring it up all of a sudden, not to mention it would be slightly awkward after all this time— so you figured you’d just wait until someone asked.

Now, behind closed doors he would kiss you first thing in the morning and you would tell him you loved him before you slept each night and there was no doubt that the two of you were terribly in love. And that was perfectly fine.

Yet, if there was one thing that saddened you from time to time, it would be the missing ring on your left hand. 

Hyoga wasn’t one to wear his ring often, all the way back from 3700 years ago, but you were. You had it on all the time— to the point where you could hardly get it off your finger. Although you loved that it showed you were his and he was yours, you truly just loved the way it made you feel safe. It was nothing extravagant, and you asked for it that way. You wanted something that you could keep on while training, that wouldn’t get in the way, so it was just a band with a small diamond engraved in it. To many it truly wasn’t much, but to you, it meant absolutely the world. To you, that little ring made you feel like Hyoga was with you wherever you went and in danger, he would come flying. You absolutely trusted he still would, but your hand did feel empty without the ring.

It was as if he read your mind. It was early in the morning when the two of you were taking a break while training alone. He carefully took off his gloves and took your left hand and the gentle touch made your heart flutter.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

He didn’t reply, but he took out a ring and slipped it right onto your ring finger. It was just a band, no diamond, no gem. Just a band that was exactly the size of your left-hand ring finger.

“Sorry it’s nothing more,” Hyoga said softly, then laughed a little. The look on his face was soft and gentle, one that he would only show you. “Perhaps this is worse than it was without.”

You were in love with him, you had always been and yet you had fallen all over again. He was the one for you and he will always be.

“No, I absolutely adore it!” you said, immediately pulling your hand back just in case he took it away. He chuckled again and you slowly brought your hand back out to look at it on your hand. You loved it so much you couldn’t have the words to express it. The largest diamond in the world couldn’t possibly compare to this simple hoop of metal on your ring finger. “How… did you?”

“I asked Senkuu and Kaseki helped make it,” he said. “It was a slight hassle trying to get your ring size again.”

“When did you get it? While I was asleep?” you asked, absolutely impressed.

“Yes,” he said. “I was afraid to wake you up a couple of times. Also it didn’t help that you sleep on your side a lot.”

“Okay, but aren’t you going to tell?” Senkuu suddenly said.

“Tell what?” you asked, ignoring the fact that you didn’t know he was listening in.

“No.” Hyoga said firmly, purely out of embarrassment.

“He made the ring himself,” Senkuu said. “Late at night, after you were asleep, for multiple nights he was working on it.”

Your head spun back to look at him. “No way,” you said.

In all of your years of being married, you had not seen him look so flustered ever.

“He got it perfect in a few tries though. Considering the tools we have to work with that itself was an insane feat,” Senkuu said, and started walking away. “Okay, sorry to bother, I’ll leave you be.”

“I love you so much,” you said to Hyoga, looking directly into his eyes.

“It’s just a piece of metal really, so I thought it’d make me feel a little more part of it if I made it,” he said, avoiding eye contact.

“Why weren’t you going to tell me?” you asked.

“It’s embarrassing,” he said. “Also, it was just for my self-satisfaction… it doesn’t change the fact that it’s just a band.”

You didn’t even bother to reply because you knew that he knew you didn’t think that for a second. You knew that he knew that made you love the ring a million times more now. Perhaps that was why— perhaps he felt bad if that made you feel like you had to keep it on. How terribly silly— he could have found it on the ground some random day and you would still have it on for the rest of your life if he had given it to you.

“Thank you,” you said, giving him a kiss. “I’ll protect it with my life.”

“Please do not,” he said, returning the kiss. “It’s supposed to protect you.”

BONUS

From that moment on, you realized you did want people to know you were married to him after all. You were so insanely proud to have him as your husband, not to mention you didn’t need anyone else falling for him either. He was in love with you, he would spend nights making a ring for you— not anyone else.

So later that day when you were having a meal with Homura and Moz, you made sure to flaunt your brand new ring, surprising them both.

Hyoga stayed silent, but it was obvious he was your partner.

Today, it was absolutely obvious that the two of you were in love.

[oceans-beloved]

Meme dump yayyy🥳✨️

(off to make more now muhahaha >:3)

[according2thelore]

Omg I'm loving all the ES /LS!Winchester dynamic!!!! Would you guys consider compiling and posting the drabbles on A03?

Also, ES!Dean being so turned on by with LS!Sam is so hot and hilarious 🤣🤣🤣

But it's got me thinking, what if ES!Sam comes to Dean for some tips on Dean's preferences/favourite positions?

ES!Sam would cringe/blush so hard while asking but the poor collage boy couldn't top ES!Dean's years of experience hoeing around all 50 states 🤣🤣😭

Also, how would ES!Sam react to finding out about Benny? (Whether as a "brother" or if there was a romantic past)

hi!

i've made a lil masterlist over here, but i've actually never considered putting them on ao3! i'd feel a lil bad if i clogged up the wincest tag whenever i update it, since i do it weekly/biweekly. would that be something y'all are interested in? i can't tell if i'm overthinking it?

i put a poll underneath the cut--let me know what y'all think!

as for your ideas--AAH!!!!!!! also written below the cut!

ES!Sam is practically vibrating as he stalks over to LS!Dean in the garage, but loses all nerve as soon as dean actually looks up and sees him standing there. he tries to lean against one of the work stations and misses.

"so. uh. sleeping? with you? how does that work?"

and LS!Dean kinda hits him with the

because uh...what are we about to do? and remind me how i'm supposed to answer in the negative again?

and when ES!Sam sputters through an explanation, getting more and more angry as he keeps going because there is little to NOTHING ES!Sam hates more than feeling stupid or being condescended to, finally spits out,

"what do you like?! sexually?"

LS!Dean is now sweating bc "that does not clarify a single thing, actually."

ES!Sam throws a towel at him, which LS!Dean sportingly lets hit him.

"you! 2006 you! if you were to--uh--have sex. with me? what do you like?"

and LS!Dean is still kind of agog because oh my god??? he himself is already pitching the beginnings of a tent over here and ES!Sam is still blushing and keeps looking in dean's eyes in shifts, looking up at his hairline and then back down to his eyes like he has to take eye contact in doses.

"sexually." sam says again, and if he says it one more time, dean's pretty sure he's going to have to suck his dick right here, right now. he's pretty sure. "i think you...ah, have more experience than me at this point. so. who knows what you'd like better than...you?"

LS!Dean moves his roll-cart of tools in front of him, because this is like every dirty fantasy he's had about sam since he was fifteen. shyly coming up, blushing and hiding under bangs and asking big brother how to have sex, asking big brother how to make it good for him.

when LS!Dean's tongue gets unstuck from the roof of his mouth, he has to clear his throat a few times. almost a hilarious number of times, really. his voice still cracks.

"well. um. sammy. sam." he corrects quickly, hedging a look up at him, "i've gotta tell you. you could probably throw up on his dick and he'd probably come like a teenager."

ES!Sam recoils.

"you want me to throw up on your dick??" he says--really fucking loud--and LS!Dean ducks like someone's taking shots.

"NO! what? what the fuck, kid? no!" LS!Dean looks around, but no one sticks their head in. "it's a metaphor!"

"what is metaphorical about me throwing up on your dick?" ES!Sam looks a little green, like he might do it whether dean wants him to or not.

"i'm saying--" LS!Dean says pointedly, "that i've been so gone for you since you were practically born. you could be the categorically worst lay in the entire world and i'll react like i bagged angelina jolie."

ES!Sam's ears flush pink.

"oh." he says, soft. LS!Dean shifts on his feet, awkward, as sam looks up at him from underneath his bangs, even though the damn kid still towers over him a few inches.

dean sighs.

"he's probably gonna want missionary. he's a sap." he grumbles. "moan his name a few times and do that thing the chick from boston taught you with your tongue. ann or something."

ES!Sam jolts, "how do you know about--"

LS!Dean raises an eyebrow, and sam tapers off into an awkward, understanding nod.

"yeah. drives me crazy." dean confirms. "let him take care of you. he'll have a fucking coronary."

the embarrassed avoidance in ES!Sam's gaze disappears, and a determined glint shines in his eye. for a second, dean thinks he might whip out a pen and paper and start taking notes.

"you have my blessing." LS!Dean says with a show of grandiose magnanimity, and ES!Sam snorts. "i'm like sex yoda right now. kinda scary. can you wear me like a backpack real quick?"

ES!Sam turns on his heel so dean can't see his smile, and dean chalks that one up as a victory.

"hyperbole." ES!Sam calls as he walks away.

"gesundheit!" dean calls after him, and sam turns around, cocky little smile and raised eyebrow and dean feels like he's twenty-six again.

"it wasn't a metaphor. 'throwing up on your dick.' it was hyperbole." he says, but his eye roll is undercut by a grin so wide it splits dean right down the middle.

as for ES!Sam finding about benny...oh lord...

this little buddy is not cool about it. considering the fact that he doesn't even know vampires are still around yet, he is GOBSMACKED by the fact dean was fucking friends with one. purgatory is a whole other can of worms.

he's kind of mad at LS!Sam for a second, because what do you mean we didn't look for him? until LS!Sam turns and looks at him with the deadest look in his eyes and says 'i thought dean was dead' and yeah. okay. he wasn't in his right mind. even the thought makes sam a few seconds away from throwing up, so sam is NOT holding his older self accountable for anything that happened during that time.

but the think that gets him right in the fucking panic alarm is "brother." benny has been more like a brother to me than you have ever been would send ES!Sam to a fucking hospital.

at this point, sam has literally never NOT been dean's 100% specialest little guy, and ES!Dean still gives him amazed little looks even a year after they reunited like he still can't believe his luck. considering S8 sam almost killed himself because he was literally trying to purge his own weakness and--significantly--that includes his "betrayal" of dean, to make himself worthy of his brotherhood again, ES!Sam is passed out on the ground.

he's jealous, of course, but mostly he's gutted. he's so incredibly insecure, and this makes him angry and mean, because--remember--LS!Dean doesn't wear the amulet anymore. and he calls other people brother. who is sam if not dean's little brother? that has always been his first identifier, even to himself, even when he's resented it. he stands a little too close to ES!Dean/LS!Dean for a few weeks, seeking praise like a child.

this was really fun to write, anon, thank you so much for sending it in!!!! <3 kissing you on both cheeks mwah mwah!!!! <3

-lizzy

[ES/LS verse masterlist here]

[mrpuzzlessimp420]

Mario Simulator (Joke Fic)

Chapter 2

Warnings: Mention of Lobotomy, Blackmailing, Kidnapping, Plotting Murder (none of these are taken seriously)

Ships: Marware, SMG34, BatteryAcid (Mr Puzzles x Orange Juice)-Mentioned

An idea popped into Mario's head, quite surprising as he probably didn't have any braincells left.

A very... unique idea.

You see, there was something actually... unnormal about Mario.

He was what you would call...

A yandere.

Now Mario wasn't your Ayano Aishi "I've never felt ANY emotions before Senpai!" yandere, he was your "though emotionally stunted still had emotions" yandere.

His entire life he had never felt strong emotions before which wasn't questioned by literally anyone as they just thought it was just because he was you know Mario or because he had been implied to be lobotomized in that one episode.

It also wasn't questioned when he started acting coo-coo crazy over Mr Puzzles as they just cracked it up to just be Mario being Mario.

So hiding this fact about himself from others was as easy as forcing your friends to kiss for a tiktok trend.

But like any yandere (insert-literally-any-character) fanfic, Mario had some roadblocks that stopped him from being with his one and only true loves...

Rivals.

Now Mario was used to having rivals, love related or not but Orange Juice was a special case.

Unlike the others, Orange Juice was actually dating Mr Puzzles which meant that if he just straight up murdered him, Mr Puzzles would be depressed, wear grey/black hoodies all the time and be emo and Mario couldn't have that! Being emo was the greatest sin of humanity!

He'd had to think of a plan to get Orange Juice and Mr Puzzles to break up or for Orange Juice to be extremely toxic so when he goes to kill him, Puzzles wouldn't be a sad depressed babygirl!

Unluckily for him, Mario was a number 1 lazy boy and didn't want to go through all the effort of figuring something out so he thought of the next best option: get someone to figure it out for him!

Now how would be his unwilling victim?

Saiko?

No she has had to much character development that she would drop kick him into the sun if he asked her to revert back to the days she was crazily obsessing over Boopkins (really though, Boopkins??)

Luigi?

No he was weird in his own way that Mario didn't want to deal with.

SMG3?

Maybe.

He'd probably need some sort of blackmail though.

Luckily for Mario, he always kept a copy of SMG3's gay little diary on hand, just in case.

A loud rigging bell went that snapped Mario out of his thoughts, it was the end of break!

And he didn't get to eat his spaghetti-flavoured apple :(.

Moving on from that, Mario knew what his next move was. At lunch he would kidnap SMG3, blackmail him to make a plan that would get Orange Juice and Mr Puzzles to break up, force him to help in the actual plan himself and make him promise to never tell anyone about the situation ever.

Yeah that seemed like a solid plan, what could possibly go wrong?

The next two lessons went by like SMG4 and SMG3's will-they-won't-they relationship that will probably never be canonized because of half of the fandom's homophobicness and their insistence that their brothers.

Right as Mario was considering drowning a random girl in a bucket of full of acid because of how clingy she was being, the bell went signalling it was lunch.

He ran out of the classroom with no time to lose, not even caring that the teacher yelled at him that "the bell doesn't dismiss him, she does" or whatever that crap was.

After searching for what felt like weeks, he finally found SMG3 packing up his stuff in a classroom that was now empty. His face slightly smiling at a image on his emo skull phone.

It was now his chance!

Mario grabbed a black bag out of thin air and, without SMG3 noticing, put it on SMG3's head and tightened it.

Now all he needed to do was find a dark, empty room that no-one would dare walk near to.

The broom closet! (DID YOU GET THE BROOM CLOSET ENDING? THE BROOM CLOSET- The author is then choked to death because they referenced another piece of media)

Dragging SMG3's lifeless body that definitely was losing oxygen by the second and not at all trying to hide himself, waving to others whenever they passed who just chalked it up to be Mario being Mario. When he finally reached the broom closet, he dumped the poor man in it, locking himself and SMG3 inside.

After finding a chair that definitely looked out of place in a broom closet that only held brooms, he placed SMG3 on it and tied his hands behind the chair with some spare rope.

Realising he needed SMG3 to talk during this blackmailing, Mario finally took the black bag off of SMG3's head.

"What the hell Mario?" SMG3 shouted after panting for oxygen for 4 minutes straight, his voice not being heard from the outside as the closet was noise cancelling.

"Mario wants you do to something for him." Mario said sinisterly, which was hard to tell due to his voice only being voice clips.

"Hell no I'll do something for you! Last time I did so I was humiliated on the internet!" SMG3 argued, not wanting anything to do with Mario.

"Well.. Mario has your gay diary sooo.. :D" Mario said, grabbing the copy of SMG3's notebook out of his skirt that has pockets.

SMG3 immediately freezed up, a pink blush spreading around his checks.

"Y-you wouldn't leak that would you?" SMG3 asked, sounding extremely nervous. No one could see his deepest and darkest thoughts and know about his massive crush on SMG4.

"I won't if you do this for me.." Mario stated as menacingly as he could, leaning down to SMG3.

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife...

"Fine... I'll do it..." He said, giving in to Mario's demands.

"Yippeee!!" Mario squeaked, though he was sad he didn't get to use his brand new cringe memes machine to torture SMG3 with but he could use it at another time.

"What do you want me to do then? Make spaghetti for you? Force me to a dumb challenge? Humiliate myself on camera?" SMG3 asked.

"Help me commit murder." Mario said blankly.

"Yeah sure why not." SMG3 stated, he selled bombs on the black market for a living, murder wasn't that extreme that he wouldn't do it. "Who is it and what's the plan?"

"Actually I wanted you to make a plan for me" Mario rubbed the back of his head, pulling a silly face while doing so.

"Of course you did.." He said, not surprised at all.

"Well to be honest, I need your help to get Orange Juice and Mr Puzzles to break up so I can go kill Orange Juice." Mario stated, extremely casually.

"Honestly wouldn't take you for a yandere type of guy"

"The author's friend thought it be funny."

"Well, I've already thought of some ideas so let's plan this!"

30 minutes later and they had already made a Plan A, a Plan B for if it goes wrong, a Plan C etc. Now all they needed to do was set it into motion...

(part 3 coming whenever I feel like it babieee-)

[oddsconvert]

What if Ronan got ahold of Felix n had break him as pet?

I've actually thought about this before, and totally considered doing a silly little AU of it ahaha. Felix would be a mix between an absolute drama queen/wuss (he can give it but he can't take it lololol) and then the other half would be like Izaak...he'd be spiteful and aggressive and lash out where he could.

Felix is quite physically fit and strong. He'd be quite well matched with Ronan...it would be a show for sure. I also think he'd be whining about Josh also (assuming Josh isn't ALSO captive alongside him), he'd be whinging that Josh needs him! Josh can't cope without him, he needs to get back to his lover!!!!

[iceman-maverick]

icemav bikeriders au

you got a license for love

The man stares as Tom gathers the empty glasses from the table, gives him a dangerous, hungry grin that lights a flame in Tom’s stomach. He looks away quickly, and turns on his heels for the sanctuary of the bar.

“Slider,” the rouge drawls, “Who’s this?”

“Easy there, Mav,” Ron warns between sips. Some of the other bikers, bruised and rowdy and dripping in denim patches, erupt into laughter.

“What?” Mav laughs. Tom can feel his gaze, it makes his face heat. “I’m just making conversation.”

And that’s how it starts.

---

Tom owes his father money, like a lot of money. He starts bartending to make it work and somehow finds himself at the center of a thriving, dangerous motorcycle gang.

(aka the bikeriders au!)

[merakiui]

Okay speaking of magical girls.... Evil villain tako that has a crush on the cute magical girl at NRC but he doesnt know shes the magical girl that's trying to thwart his evil plan of taking over sage's island mwhaha

YES YES YES. And every week he gets his ass handed to him. You're determined to keep Sage's Island safe!!!! He's trying to get to know you through the fights. The (one-sided) sexual/romantic tension is too much. Tako who flirts at every chance during your fights... you genuinely want to take him out (defeat him), but he wants to take you out (on a date). And it's so obvious he's down bad for you, but you have no idea he's Azul Ashengrotto (your fellow classmate) and he has no idea of your identity either. Azul's trying to balance his love for the magical girl he fights on weekends and his darling classmate who he sees during the week hehe. How fortuitous that they are the same person.

Please imagine that trope where the villain ensnares the hero in tentacles, but it ends up looking more erotic than threatening....... orz evil villain tako whose tentacle is holding you upside down by the ankle and he's monologuing about how he'll take over the island and you'll get to watch, powerless against him. But then he looks at you and your skirt has flipped up and he's granted a gratuitous panty shot!!!!!!! Tako who gets a nosebleed on the spot. He's such a loser pervert. <3

Omg omg or you're squirming in the tentacles and ranting about how you'll get him for this, but Azul's trying so hard not to give into the horny thoughts because the way the tentacles are looped around you and squeezing is so attractive to him.

Like that one scene where Stocking's fighting the octopus ghost LOL.