#the city is also a nest of horror so yeah

[tarjapearce]

Heathens (Pt. 1)

Priest! Miguel O'Hara x Nun!Reader

art by @maxro_art on IG (Her Deliverance AU is ❤️❤️🤌🏻)

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. If you're sensitive regarding religion, please don't read this. Masturbation in holy places, explicit language, wet dreams, Female anatomy, oral ( F receiving) Gentle Dom Miguel, Corruption kink, overused tropes cause yeah, a tinge of yandere undertones if you squint, mutual lust, Not Proofread ~

Summary: Father O'Hara had a little lamb ~

A/N: Another for the Miguelverse ~ Reblogs and comments are much appreciated c:

Main Masterlist

From all the places you could've find solace from war, The house of God was the least of lieus in your list. Not that you had a choice.

Family long gone after unsuspected explosions decimated your town, followed by constant tragedies such as losing friends along the way either by enemy and merciless hands or sickness. In the end, it was only you. You had outlived them all despite your short age. And now, they lived crammed up in your memories.

Happy, smiling and very much alive. Sometimes you'd see familiar faces on stranger's bodies. Grief had slowly nested within your soul and when all hope seemed lost, the chapel had saved you from what surely would end up in your premature death.

The blackest of black matched the crispest white you had ever seen, they were all donned in their beatific robes, prayer beads dangling at every gentle step they did. And there it was, epiphany unfolding itself before your experienced in horror eyes. It was your call.

All the answers to your laments and aching heart were sent as them. Nuns of the Mistbourne Parish. A church located in the outskirts of a now rundown by conflict Nueva York. The church that now played a major role in taking in as much people within their sacred walls, before they could be dispatched to a more adequate place.

Without hesitation, you had joined. And now, six years later you still remained with them. Early twenties had settled right for you as a nun. Ever devoted, compassionate, and diligent.

As time went on, the main city was reconstructed, burying it's dark tragedy under freshly built towers, hiding the pain under the rugged carpet full of concrete and wire homes, like nothing ever happened. Like if war had never stepped upon it and gave it a much needed renewal at people's lives expenses.

But no matter how many changes time brought, life in Mistbourne's Parish remained the same. Untouched by the technological advances from the outer world. There was always something to do, as simple as it was. And so far, you've been satisfied with it.

The only alterations worth of mention was your holy family expanding.

A new couple additions to the staff. More sisters, an eighty percent of them were beyond fifty. You were the youngest, their child. After all some ended up raising you within the house.

And him. The new priest.

The tallest and bulkiest man you've ever seen. As much as staring was considered rude and borderline a sin, it was unavoidable to do so, when his rusty brown eyes fell upon you. Their color unique, like he was. Never in your life had you seen someone like him, or another man besides the butcher and the guard. He had definitely been a regular man before coming here.

The soft weary expression lines in his sharp countenance revealed his own fair of lived experiences.

He towered over you, crisp white dot on his black rimmed neck line, parading his status with modest pride, and golden praying beads dangling on his narrow hips, you held yours while asking forgiveness for keep staring.

"Father."

Father O'Hara. In his mid thirties, broken family also torn by war, wearing his vows in the shape of a ring on his right hand.

"Sister"

His voice deep yet gentle, like a lullaby. His steps took him away to his own residence. The rectory outside the church.

It made sense as to how some workers were renovating it in the past few weeks. The parish last priest had been sent off in sacred duties, only to realize later that he had killed a man. Cops and detectives surely made a show out of it.

Dark times, according to Sister Lianne, one of your mother figures. But now, Father O'Hara had taken his place, erasing all traces of the previous man with concise and pithy actions.

He took his role seriously. Said masses on sundays, visited the sick, baptized people; but his most popular feat was to hear the confessions. The most intimate secrets revealed to him by either your fellow sisters or people from the town that came to expiate their sins in hope to be forgiven.

You'd sometimes run into each other, bumping casually in the narrow wooden floored halls, you'd often apologize, only to reciprocate a polite smile on both ends. He'd sometimes help you out by carrying things a bit too heavy, or you'd help him out lighting up the altar for his speech.

Yet, his hands in one occasion took an accidental taste of your body dimensions underneath your beatific robes, while preventing you from falling down the stairs. He'd scold you for being careless and carrying things that obscured your sight.

After many sorries on your behalf, you returned to the cells and went straight to your own dorm, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

His hands felt burning upon remembering the dents of your form, the curve of your waist and certainly the warmth that irradiated from you, so so close from his.

Unexpectedly it had brought memories from his past. His old life where he'd have his lovely and temporary companion for the night impaled deliciously with himself before war and hell broke loose. Before he was forced by the subversives that raided his town to create a new fake identity in the spot as they heard him speak spanish or fight a war he hadn't started, much less would end. And so, his life as Father O'Hara begun.

Odd enough, the sudden and thoughtless choice had granted him peace after witnessing so many terrors his fellow human could be capable of. His need of help has always been stronger than anything and when he finished licencing some sacrifices were required.

Poverty vows weren't an issue since his previous life had been modest yet good enough to go by. Little difference between his current lifestyle.

The obedience vow took him a little longer to fully yield. But he accomplished it to a T, just to avoid more trouble. He faked it until he made it.

His chastity vow had been a quite the challenge to perfect, but no matter how much the temptations paraded before him in the many parishes he was assigned to, he didn't give in. His libido had been sapped out of his body, like a campfire after completing it's useful cycle.

Not because of his brand new sanctity invested by holier-than-thou elders, but rather a broken mind full of grievance and other negatives that always haunted him. The gunshots and bombings too fresh in his mind.

It had been years since he touched someone in a way that wasn't holy. Since he had provoked things in someone else that clearly would make him go under the laicization from the clergy without second guessings.

Until he held you the other day.

Both of your eyes too enraptured in eachother that had sent an igniting spark to his spine. Reviving all those inactive nerves he thought his existencial toll severed long ago. His eyes had gave a brief rake over your face.

Wide and round eyes staring back, both in awe and surprise straight into his soul. Nose flaring softly just like your mouth, whose bottom lip trembled at the little erratic breaths your lungs exhaled upon being in physical contact with a man for the first time in ever, while cheeks bloomed with a not so discreet flush. And your body heat.

Jesus all mighty.

It was dangerously tempting. For a brief moment his past self had taken over, but quickly vanished upon hearing steps. Earning you to fix your crucifix and cowl nervously and him to fist his hands to refrain himself to take another taste and fix his collar and cassock.

To his conclusion, the robes you wore did not match what was underneath. He noted much, but having you wear that loose habit only fuelled his now active and sinful imagination. An opposite from your habits' purpose.

Priest life was hard, and the Celibacy vows were his biggest damnation. Mind often plagued with 'I shouldn't have done this.' 'This is ridiculous' 'Fucking idiot' 'Why did I even lie about this?' But even so, priesthood was better than ending up dead or mutilated by mines somewhere in the battlefield, in the middle of a war he didn't started, much less would end.

Government later was forcibly recruiting all those men, be them widowed or married. It didn't matter. War wasn't for him. Neither Priesthood.

But he'd bear it. He'd bear it until he was put in another parish church full of older and witty ladies he'd definitely wouldn't lust after.

----

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

The sweet voice behind the confessional punctured walls, perked up his ears. He had memorized a lot of things, your voice included.

"I... I haven't confessed in weeks. But it grows me concerned that... my mind is somewhere else."

Silence. You were met with silence as expected, it also encouraged you to keep talking.

"A man has flooded my thoughts and no matter how much I try to occupy myself, he's there. Leading me to temptation and sin."

A man?

His brow quirked as he slanted over the little wooden division between you, to hear better and take a peek on your face. The only men he could think of was the guard, the butcher and himself. The only men inhabiting the same area as you.

"How does this man tempts you?"

"He... He visits. In my dreams I mean and..."

A low 'forgive me, God' echoed in your stall. His throat dried and his hands rested on each side of his knees, gripping at the fabric of his pants.

"He does things I know I shouldn't partake in... But, it feels too real."

"You sound scared. Does it frightens you?"

"Very much so. But it is a strange sort of fear, Father."

"What kind of fear then?"

It took you a long pause to muster

"A fear of him stopping his visits in my mind."

He gulped.

Your hands took the crucifix and held it tighter, "For him to stop doing such sinful things to me, even in my dreams."

"Have you sinned in the carnal affairs?"

"N-No. I would never. I've never engaged in them, Father."

His groin twitched, as a hand raked over his scalp. A shaky breath that was forced to come out in silence. Only when he thought you couldn't be more innocent, there you were proving him wrong.

"Ever?"

"I promise to you with my life, I've never."

"I must know" He wetted his lips with his tongue, "What kind of things does this man does to you?"

"W-What?"

Your spine straightened up instantly, eyes wild, staring another hole into the already punctured division. Cinnamon color in his skin, the only brief glimpse you managed to see. But even so, his gentle yet cornering voice brought you down from your initial jump.

"I need to know, so I can dictate a penance."

The flush on your cheeks returned, burning bright upon remembering the all too lucid dream you've been having about your secret man. That, even though visited frequently, you still didn't know his face, just his body as it smothered yours wholy in a constant merciless and scorching rut.

All what you remembered was him feasting between your legs like a starved man. His hands maneuvering your soft mounds to then give a gentle squeeze.

"His hands are the ones that bring the sin, Father."

"Explain yourself"

His voice was sultry, buttery rich and smooth on the other side of the stall. A subtle order. To your dismay, that same demon had a similar voice tone. Alluring, speaking to you in a foreign language it had you mewling and asking for forgiveness every time you remembered, cause you had begged the faceless man for more.

"He touches and... t-tastes places I shouldn't allow no man to delve in." With a thick gulp you continued, "His tongue is... marvelous."

His eyes widened for a second as his hand hovered over his crotch

"Marvelous?"

"I feel the biggest sinner by admitting this. Please, do forgive me."

"Accountability is part of the process."

He tried to sound as professional as he could, but little did you know his mind was torturing his already crumbling resolve with such vivid details. Celibacy wasn't a problem, until now. Hearing such sinful words coming from such a unsuspecting thing like yourself, a virgin that is, made his old self to re-emerge.

Disguising himself as a sheep, while he fought through his holy learning years to tame his wolfish appetite.

There were plenty of ewes in the flock , but so far the only one that made his mouth water was you. A perfect little lamb. And now, this. We're you set to making him break his vows?

No. You weren't. He was reaching his limits to break celibacy and you were just having wet dreams about someone that definitely made him wonder about your past life. A past lover? No. Not even that. A possession? A demon? No. Definitely not.

He had heard things whenever on lunch duty. Mindless talk that revealed more to him from others and you than they intended to. You, a nun. Picked up from a ravaged village nearby and raised within  the nuns, meaning, you had zero idea of what pleasure meant.

He believed, but wasn't a complete blinded idiot to faith. Your body was asking for physical and forbidden relief. Just like his.

But again, the golden band around his right hand not only forbid but also was the perpetual reminder of what was a stake.

"I know, Father. But... this man has such power over me that has pushed me to sin. He... he has pushed me to take such vulgar matters in my own hands."

Maker's mercy

His cock twitched harder and he was unable hold back and gave a firm  squeeze while biting his lip to quiet himself at the long forgotten and heady pleasure that was drowning his body in an alarming rate.

As if done of being fed lies and a quick and sloppy handjob for ages. It was disgusting how easy was to sin, how well his body ached and reacted to such stimulus. How effortlessly his old habits had caught up to him.

He was the one that needed a penance now, cause he couldn't shake the image of you spread with your legs wide open, naked, sliding your fingers in between your weeping folds. You'd certainly have your mouth shut or lips bitten to avoid having anyone hear you.

He had closed his eyes while his jaw clenched, occasionally sweeping his tongue over his lips to keep them moist.

"Say it. Say your sin."

He commanded in a voice that had your cheeks flustered and your pearly nub a throb. His hand half squeezed half stroked over his clothed groin. Swollen and needy cock begging to be set free and properly taken care of.

"I..." A dry gulp and your hands went to your crotch, begging your nature to behave. Cheeks impossibly red.

"I've enjoyed touching myself after dreaming a man... f-fucks me, Father."

The word 'fuck' coming out your delicious looking yet pure lips, had his teeth gnawing at the insides of his cheek, self control harder to keep under the leash. It barked, howled even demanded for more explicit details.

Instead, he sighed quietly and cleared his throat. The sudden noise had you gripping the skirt of your habit in shame.

Miguel didn't say much besides the prayer of absolution and a couple of more prayers as your penance. The same right hand that was squeezing his cock was now being kissed by you, to confirm your forgiveness. Plump, warm and soft lips caressed his ring finger.

And once you were gone, his hand took control on its own, slid under his soutane to stroke himself. If you felt like a sinner, he was the devil himself.

The vice like grip in his own cock made him shudder, sensation foreign yet so welcoming after years without it. A little whine escaped past his gaping mouth, exhaling pecaminous breaths as he stroked like teenage boy that just discovered masturbation for the time ever. Sloppy, desperate and wet motions echoed in the now sullied stall.

He fisted his hand tighter, thick fingers coaxing a much needed release, hips rutting into his choking hand. Quiet whimpers and an array of curses flew out his mouth.

His flushed tip swayed and shook under his own rough ministrations while his jaw clenched, he clawed at the chair when hot and thick spurts of his cum dribbled down his hand and wrist before time; pooling in the hollow of his palm while earning a gutural growl that dissolved into a shaky whimper, as he curled against the wooden and punctured wall for a brief lapse of seconds to regain his composure.

"Fuck..." He had to lay against his chair to keep the light-headedness at bay, drowning in his own made pleasure, panting like he had run a marathon for hours.

He shouldn't have lied back ago. And  definitely shouldn't have become a priest. He was soiling their already tainted reputation. His old self was back to stay.

He cleaned up his hand under his robes to then leave to change. He was given a glimpse as you were picking up some harvest in the orchard while he was making his way back home.

---

Window's glasses echoed with the soft rain. The parish has been quiet during weekdays, but busy for you. As winter approaches the harvest must be picked, the grains sorted and the meats stored.

You saw Father O'Hara less and less, and when you did, they were mere glimpses. He was as busy in meetings with other priests, or preparing for the mass that was now given twice a week.

If you weren't in the garden or the laundry, you were in the choir.

Lingering yet brief gazes chased each other. He had heard some nuns speaking about him, some had wonderful things to say, saying that he had been one of the most efficient priests the church has had.

Others mentioned between hushed and bashful whispers about his physical condition and how they caught him go for runs at crack of dawn a couple of times.

And you, just wanted to go to confession again and ask for forgiveness. Not to spill the advantures you had in your dreams with a man that oddly resembled like Father O'Hara, but to unleash your heart's desires to wonder what was beyond the parish.

It was your life, all you've ever known so far. But one of those trips to the city during a beneful visit to another location, had left you amazed. How could a world so different like yours could be considered bad and straying?

But again, vows. Your vows bound you, and once broken, there was no turning back. But right now all that mattered was to get to the dorms. The rest was out in another visit to the city, you were to stay to finish your tasks in the kitchen.

Weather changed so abruptly that one moment you were taking the last basket of vegetables inside, to then run for the dorms to seek refuge. But they were far and the only thing in sight was Father's O'Hara rectory.

It was either getting a terrible fever from the cold and unforgiving rain or ask him to lend you an umbrella to mitigate the glacial numbness spreading through your body. Another reason you barely went out during these days, rains in the countryside were merciless.

Miguel was tending his own garden when the rain begun drenching. Even more when the thunders broke the peaceful white noise. He removed his soutane and shirt off leaving his inner vestments free, but the desperate knock on his door made his undressing ritual to stop.

While quirking an eyebrow, he approached the door and opened it. Eyes widened in surprise upon seeing you, soaked through your bones. lips blue and shivering from the cold.

"P-Please-"

"Jesus. Come in."

He ushered you in, then rushed to get a towel. A frown in his face deepened upon hearing your teeth clatter, clothes stuck to you like a second skin.

"C-Can I... borrow your... u-umbrella?"

Without much though he smoothened the towel against your face, drying it.

"An umbrella? Really?!"

A vehement shake of your head, while trying to get him off you.

"You're freezing cold, the dorms are too far for you to leave. Don't be stubborn."

"I... I don't h-have clothes."

You mumbled through rattling teeth while your eyes darted hazily over his naked torso. He sighed.

"Unbelievable. You're freezing to death and you're worried about clothes. Get them off, I'll put them to dry."

He grumbled while taking more logs into the fire to what would be his living room. If it wasn't for the glacial and biting freeze that refused to leave your body and the foggy thinking in your brain, your cheeks would be beyond red. Crimson even from such simple act.

A weak nod you gave. Your hands stopped bracing your shivering body to focus on removing the cowl and headdress. Releasing through shaky motions your soaked hair that wasted no time to stick on your face and neck.

The next was your crucifix, and praying beads, the tempo you removed them could make a slug to easily win the race, this alarmed him greatly. He had seen what hypothermia did, way before turning himself into this holy persona.

Without much thought, he peeled off your habit that weighed you down.

"Qué mierda más pesada" (Such a heavy shit)

He held you by one arm as he removed the outer layer off. Your eyes drooped and he gave you a little shake.

"Hey, hey, look at me."

Eyes concerned raking over and it dawned on you. Those eyes, the same beautiful and unique eyes were the same that visited in your dreams.

A difficult gulp rolled down your throat as Miguel kept undressing you while grunting. Wet clothes were a pain in his beatific ass. Shivering dicreased, but your lips remained blue, a new shade of purple drawing over them.

"I-It's so cold" You mumbled through laborious breaths.

"Course it's cold. You're soaked! What were you even doing?"

The way he scolded you felt like someone you've known for years was giving you a lecture. So casual, homey, normal. It was Miguel O'Hara speaking, not Father Miguel. The ever gentle and patient man you've been helping.

"Jesús bendito, con cuánta cosa te vistes." (Holy Jesus, so many layers.)

He murmured while pushing you to his chest as he removed the dress that covered your underwear. It felt like a heatless body had been thrown over him, but the warmth irradiating from him felt heavenly. Your form instinctively nuzzled your head on his chest. He had to stop to gulp at the sensations

Even though his mind slapped itself, His couldn't help but wander over your shivering and weak body.

"W-Wait"

A small dark patch hovered above the joint of your legs. Taut peaks followed by lovely areoles ever standing and shivering under the flimsy white fabric of a short nightgown that proved even harder to remove since it clung to you like a second skin, refusing to abandon your body.

He peeled you off of everything despite your protests, but was sufficiently prude to not look over your naked form. A minute too slow and it would be late. Like the young boy in his arms, that had died out of cold once the subversive groups arrived in the forsaken town, they had forced him and the rest to go through a frozen river. He made it, but the boy didn't.

His mind wasn't in the tip of his cock.

That will come later.

But his brain had only one single purpose right now. To keep you alive but for that he needed keep you warm.

Despite the recklessness of his actions, he pulled a freshly folded duvet around  while pulling you ontop of his chest and sat together near the fire. Hands moving to dry your hair as much as he could. Your skin was full of goosebumps, frosty to touch, that relished into any source of heat available. His torso, the duvet and the raging bonfire made your head spin.

It felt like his hands, rubbing some life back into your arms while he shielded your body, embracing your form with his torso and limbs. Like a paramedic on duty. Your cheek smooshed against his solid chest, it made him shudder with your own coldness but eventually the body heat treatment would be effective.

"Sorry" it was all you managed before your teeth shuddered again, and his fingers caressed your neck, placing a new wave of delicious heat on your skin.

"You'll be fine."

Your body was slowly but surely returning to it's temperature. Miguel remained there, basking you within his body, fingers gingerly caressing as much cold skin as he could under the duvet. Even his breath provided a little heat. Your erratic breaths collided against his skin, earning a discreet shudder from him.

You had drifted off to limbo, trying to sleep a bit, but unable to completely do so. Not when a man, the Parish Father nonetheless, was holding and nursing you back to an acceptable temperature with his own.

"Father O'Hara..."

Miguel's ears perked up upon you mentioning his name.

"It's Miguel."

He mumbled while drawing lazy circles on your lower back. The fire and the duvet had kept you toasty to curl even more towards him. Teeth no longer clattering.

"Thank you, Father."

"Stop."

His eyes rolled in annoyance, as his hands stopped caressing your skin to then rub his face.

"Stop calling me that."

"But that's your-"

"I don't like it."

He grumbled while looking down at you.

"Call me Miguel."

"I can't do that. Feels too disrespectful."

"I'm not Father O'Hara here, understood?"

You nodded

"Are you cold?"

"I am. Not as before but yes. Has it stopped raining?"

His own smell was making your mind a puddle, some of that fragrant incense remained etched on him.

"No. Just got worse."

You sighed while resting your head on his chest. Heartbeats a mellow lullaby.

"I'm sorry for all of this."

"You were cold and soaked." He pointed dully and bored.

The duvet was brought closer to your chest while staring at the flames. Fingers tracing a lazy and mindless pattern in his abdomen.

"I was picking up the last batch of harvest when rain poured on me."

Your toes curled in as a soft breeze flickered the fire and he tilted his head to watch you closer.

"Now I'll have to explain why there isn't enough corn."

"We'll go by. It's ok."

"Are my clothes ready yet?"

A snort that  would be translated into an 'Are you kidding me?', your brow furrowed.

"You'd be lucky if they get dry during the night."

Another defeated sigh. But a sudden thought however made your cheeks burn faintly.

"D-Did you see me naked?"

"No."

Oh.

There was a silent pause before you spoke again. Curiosity tempting.

"Have you seen other women naked?"

He huffed playfully while pushing your hair away from your lovely and sweet face.

"Yes. I was a regular man before all of this."

His fingers curled up in his hand, morphing into a lazy fist

"Do you miss it?"

"Would be a liar to say if I don't."

"You... You've had sex before?"

He chuckled while with an open palm, took a taste of your skin, deliberately roaming your lower back. You shuddered.

"I did. Plenty of times."

Your audible gasp made his eyes droop hazily in a smirking grimace.

"I was told it felt marvelous."

You looked up at him and he pulled your chin upwards, he really had to keep his restrain under a leash to not take you here and there, instead, he cupped your face and hovered his lips over yours

"Do you want me to teach you, Sister?"

He was the demon. The very same one that visited in your dreams and left you a soaked mess. A little too late you'd noticed that he wasn't wearing his vow ring. It was placed somewhere else you truly couldn't care less at the moment.

You only nodded.

"Use your words, dear"

"Please", you gulped, "Teach me."

It was in that moment that he sealed your lips with his. Your first kiss ever. Chaste and sweet at the beginning that slowly turned into this obscene display of his mouth assaulting yours with his tongue in between gentle licks and bites of his lips.

A shaky whine then a whimper escaped your throat upon feeling his hands skimming down your spine. He only let you go when you tapped out for air.

"How often am I on your mind, pequeña?"

Finally the demon in your dreams had turned into a reality. Eyes were closed, unable to look at yourself melting under his touch. Nipples perked against his chest.

Plump and hot lips caressed yours but they stopped. Hands pulled you upwards, Miguel turned you around so your back was now colliding with his chest.

"You're still cold."

Cheeks grew impossibly red while he slowly peeled off the duvet out of your body, leaving you bare before him. You gulped as he moved your hair to a side and slowly kissed up and down your neck.

His hands were unable to resist any more and cupped your mounds, like in your dream. Calloused palms, rough against soft breast.

"Qué maravilla. Is this how your dream goes?

Legs smothered together, a little strip of hair etched to your pubic mount. He hummed in appreciation to then part your legs above his. Cunt pulsing at the coolness of air brushing past it.

Both of your legs dangled ontop of his as you remained nested above. Your heart beat at the playful moves his middle and index finger pulled on your nipple as his free hand darted over the joint of your inner thighs. You could feel him trembling underneath, the restrain made his breath hitch.

Your own turned erratic once more as he slid three fingers in between your folds. A shy Ah escaped your lips while he used two of them to part the outer labia

"Look at that, little one. Is that what you touch when thinking of me?"

Drunk eyes darted between your legs and his skillful hand, the engorged and pearly clit peeked out as one of his fingers flickered slowly. Focusing the right amount of pressure in it that had your moans shaky. He paused to adjust his fingers as they caressed and rubbed as much flesh as they could.

Mouth etched to your ear. Deep and needy breaths fanned behind you

"So so pretty. Look at that"

He made a show of his fingers coating themselves in your slick. One of his digits hovered over your entrance, slowly it disappeared inside. A muffled groan echoed in the void space

A wet and shlicking sound came from his ministrations, head unable to move, too enraptured into watching him sliding in and out. Skin bloomed with a new wave of goosebumps as his tongue licked your neck and earlobe, rewarding you for taking one finger deliciously, that he licked up clean before going back to rub at your clit.

"Want to add another?"

A breathless and hissing yes.

You didn't know who was with you right now since Father O'Hara couldn't. Your brain still refused to believe they were the same man. One preached and talked mass every Sunday, the other had your head spinning while his fingers explored your insides with such gentleness it only increased your whimpers and need for something more and bigger within you.

"Does that feel good, Hm?"

A dumb nod while more escaped your mouth repeatedly

"More?"

"Please!"

How could he deny to such petition? Even most when you were gripping him so deliciously and pulsating with every stroke he delivered in, grazing at your sweetest spot.

"Like this?"

He increased the tempo and your breath hitched, hips moving to meet his fingers aiding them to reach deeper and deeper.

Breaths turned into short and shallow pants, blood rushed to your cheeks. One of his digits pushed past between your lips meeting your moist muscle that wasted no time into kissing it. All you could hear was yourself and your weeping pussy that demanded for more.

But they weren't enough. Brain was sent into an override when the climax washed over you. All the pent up need and lust drowned you. Strong pulsations dictated the contractions that trapped and milked Miguel's fingers. Mind split in two in a shattering and core shaking spasm.

Mouth gaped, eyes heady and drunk with blind hot pleasure, body convulsed while an array of mumbles and clumsy curses flew out of your mouth to finally end with a delicious quivering cry.

"It's okay, shh, it's okay, pequeña." He cooed you through it while kissing your neck. Heart pounding in your ears.

It took you a moment to breath properly. How could you have missed this? How could you remain so ignorant to this? Alienated from something you were often told it was dirty and condemning.

He had only touched in the right places and you were melting. But why stopping there? You knew he also wanted you, his hard on pressing over your lower back, begging to set free.

"M-More"

He shook his head with a proud smile

"Can't do that, preciosa"

A capricious whine came through your throat, "Why not?"

"Cause, as much as I'd love to take you until you recite the bible backwards to me, you know what could happen."

"You don't want me, then? Why stopping now?"

"Far from that. And we must be discreet. Wouldn't want you to be whipped by Sister Lianne."

He took your hand and kissed your wrist. While his other limb pulled you closer to him.

"I am the only one that shall leave marks on you, my dear. Is that clear?"

"Yes, but-" He took your chin in a gentle but firm grip.

"Is that clear?"

You nodded with a pout.

"Lay on the bed."

"What? "

"Lay on the bed, so I can taste you."

Miguel could fulfil that fantasy. With Bambi-like steps you pushed yourself up and walked over his bed. Plush surface welcomed your body under a creak.

"Spread them."

Toes curled up for a second before spreading them open. Clit already tingling with a foreign yet needy sensation.

He kneeled before you, like he did every day he worshipped the Lord. But this time it wasn't God, but you. Nose nuzzled over your inner thighs while taking a whiff of your scent. Tantalizing and so alluring for his own senses.

Slow and deliberate kisses were placed above your flesh, the strip of hair that decored your pussy, to finally sink in between soaked folds.

The mewl you gave only made him feast upon you. Hands grope the sheets by instinct as he spreaded you further.

His tongue lapped and curled at your hole, slurping it without refrain and inhibitions. Devouring it like it would be his last meal.

Your dream had felt too vivid, yes, but this was completely different. This was in a whole new different level. His corruption had tainted your soul and it was gladly welcomed into your arms.

Legs twitched and shook while your head was thrown back, chest heaved with shallow breaths, unable to breath properly as his tongue was set into fucking your drooling hole.

The way his tongue fucked, dribbled and guzzled your cunt had you mewling and moaning the filthiest things you didn't think possible you could get out.

Good was an understatement, heavenly was a measly word to compare what you felt like. It was maddening and he gave you no rest.

Have you ascended? No. He just wrapped your supple thighs around his head, preventing you from squirming too much, holding your hips in place as his sloshing and assailant mouth gave you no rest.

You hadn't recovered completely from the other orgasm when a new one had approached. Lurking around your senses.

His name was moaned, over and over and when your hands were done of clinging onto the sheets, you held onto his hair. Silky and smooth chocolate locks slid under your fingers.

Eyes peeked over you, and he had to pause for a moment to squeeze his cock. Aching and weeping for him to let him free and make you his. But that would come later.

That would come much later when he had more leisure time and when he'd get protection. As much as he wanted to wreck your snug cunt, he didn't want you to be whipped and shamed like another nun was when the higher ups found out she was pregnant by an outsider.

"Miguel"

His name on your lips rich and tasty, like him.

Your voice snapped him out of his trance to immediately go for your clit. Plump lips pursed and captured the engorged nub. While his hands pushed your legs up and folded them, giving a complete access to your pulsating pussy.

He slurped and souped while his tongue teased. Wet laps sent jolts through your spine each time he tasted you.

Too much. Too good and too soon, yet he didn't stop. He shook his head like a mad dog subduing it's prey and that move alone had you gushing over his mouth. He quickly gobbled it all down.

You whined, cried and blabbled, even tried to pull his head away but he delivered you a last stroke with his tongue to then lick his lips clean.

"Please"

You mumbled through blown breaths as he watched you with a lust blown glare.

What had he done out of you?

"Greed is a sin, my dear."

What had he created?

"But if you're good enough, the wait will be worth it."

His little lamb was so willing for him, aching to be tainted, corrupted even more. And his task was to banish such whims.

He'd given you a taste of what laid ahead. A promise of a much unholy reward if you followed this path with him. But your resolve had been made the first time you came.

He'd be your first and last. There wasn't any need for another to teach you what he was compliant to demonstrate.

You'd be his to fuck. His to tame and corrupt.

You'd be his.

---

Taglist:

@plumplumpurin

#miguel o'hara #t writes✨ #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o hara #miguel ohara smut #priest miguel #Miguelverse #spiderman 2099 masterlist #spiderman 2099 smut #priest au #afab reader #Miguel O'Hara x AFAB Reader

[rokurodokuro]

Monkshood and Rose

Street Fighter, OC interacting with Vega

cw: general horror vibes

1232 words, or about 4.5 pages

There’s a monster in this city.

He came over on a shipping tanker the night before Winter started, his minions pouring out of it like fire ants from a disturbed nest. Something about him wasn’t right-- I could feel it.

It’s like I was staring at Death. Maybe even something even worse.

Without so much as a word, he ordered his men to spread out. What are they looking for? Who is he? Why is he in Metro City to begin with?

Maybe it’s time for me to get a move on and head to safer pastures.

That’s the hope, anyway.

I gotta get out of here before they catch me…

---

Even for Winter’s Eve, Judas felt a grim chill in the air. He did his best to stay hidden, ducking out of view from the cerulean-clad soldiers at every opportunity as he wove through the alleyways and streets. He knew Metro City like the back of his hand, but this? This made him reconsider his knowledge.

The clattering of hard rubber on concrete made his ears twitch and swivel back, his breath catching in his throat.

Shit.

Avenues for escape were slim in this part of town, but there were plenty of hiding spots-- lots of little nooks and crannies he could cram himself into. Judas knew that they would be looking for him in buildings and certain dead-ends, as well as more obvious spots. He also knew, though, no one would thoroughly check a garbage pile or the dumpster at the end of the alley.

The dumpster’s gonna have to work, as much as I hate the smell.

Working quickly but quietly, Judas climbed into the dumpster from the side. The trash-men may have been around recently-- at least within the last day or so-- but trash has a tendency to build quickly in urban areas. There was at least enough bags of trash to cover himself, and the smell was nowhere near as bad as he had anticipated.

Even through the steel walls of the dumpster, and even through all of the garbage, Judas could hear the foot soldiers chattering and walking.

“…remind me. Why are we boots on the ground for one guy?”

“Target is Subject α-2. We were briefed on this.”

“Yeah, but… why us? Couldn’t His Lordship have had, I don’t know, Vega do it?”

A beat of silence.

“I want you to think about what you just asked me, and then ask that again with a straight face.”

Another beat of silence.

“I guess we want α-2 alive, huh.”

“No shit. You know Vega would fuck Subject α-2 up and make this whole situation FUBAR.”

“Right.”

The dumpster opened from the top. Judas held his breath.

“Besides that, we have records as to α-1’s behavior towards even just Medical. You really think α-2 is gonna be that much different?”

α-1? Is that… is that Dad?

“You never know! We also have records as to α-2’s… erm, history. That shit changes you.”

Silence.

The lid of the dumpster closed.

They knew? Judas’ blood pounded in his ears as he let out a soft exhale. They knew and didn’t do anything??

“I can’t help but feel bad for her, y’know.” The voice of the younger faded, both sets of boots pacing away. “If we weren’t supposed to keep our heads down, fuck, I would have done something…”

Judas felt tears bite at his eyes before he squeezed them shut. Knowing that someone knew­-- that someone wanted to help-- made him feel a strange sense of grief for who he once was.

Not now, he thought. I gotta focus on getting outta here.

He waited for what felt like an eternity to uncover himself and peek out of the dumpster to ensure there was no one around, before carefully lowering himself to the ground.

At least before that dog is set on me.

---

“Vega.”

With silent steps, a masked man steps before his lord.

“This is about the mongrel, I assume?”

“This is about Subject α-2, yes.” In the dim light of the hold, a pair of glowing eyes look up at Vega before a large hand slides a folder towards him. “It would appear as though my men are failing such a simple task as finding a lost dog.”

“I would expect nothing less of them, Lord Bison.” Vega was deeply unamused, picking up the folder and skimming through its contents. The photos in it were a touch blurry, but surveillance cameras can only pick up so many details. “α-2 seems rather good at keeping a low profile. Perro de monte, correct?”

Bison scoffed. “Yes, much as its father was.”

“Then this will be a rather easy hunt.” Vega’s eyes behind his mask indicated a smile. “For all their tricks, coyotes have definitive ways of being caught.”

“Remember, Vega. I want it alive.”

---

Judas awoke with the sunrise the next morning, chilled to the bone. He wished, more than anything at the moment, he had access to amenities that most have-- a hot meal, a warm shower, a big bed with thick blankets, even just electric heating in general.

Now’s not the time for wishes, Judas. He curled up in his old blanket, looking around the alleyway for any indication of the foot soldiers’ presence.

He didn’t bother looking up, however.

Judas slowly rose to his feet, blanket wrapped around his body as he sniffled and slunk around a corner to a narrow section of backstreets. His ears immediately swiveled at the sound of light feet landing on the pavement.

Don’t look.

Judas turned to look anyways. Everything about the man behind him screamed “danger,” from the barn owl-like mask on his face, to the snake tattoo that seemed to wrap around his form, to the razor-sharp claws on his left hand. The eyes behind the mask radiated killing intent, barely obscured by golden hair. Ears pinned against his head, Judas turned to fully face his hunter.

“Ssh.” The hunter put a finger to his mask, taking a near-silent step closer. “We can do this the easy way, or—”

Judas wasn’t listening.

He turned after a couple of steps, and ran like his life depended on it.

“Then I suppose we’re going to do this my way,” Vega muttered, taking off after Subject α-2.

There was no time for rationality as Judas fled his pursuer, heart pounding and lungs burning as he sprinted through the early-morning streets of Metro City. The pattern of each direction he went was deliberately random to try to shake Vega’s trail, but to no avail. Vega was catching up, and quickly, at that.

Shit…! This guy’s a lot faster than I gave him credit for…!

Before long, the bay came into view. Soldiers, out of uniform, were resting against the wall as they ate their breakfast.

Fuck it, I’d rather fucking drown than deal with this anymore! Judas jumped between the group of soldiers, hopping off the barrier between the land and the water--

Only to feel himself get caught by the hem of his pants and pulled back.

“No tan rápido, perro.”

“Oh, fuck, it’s Vega!” “Wait, he’s got Subject α-2! Assist!” “Holy shit, Vega caught it!”

Like flies on a corpse, Judas was descended upon by the soldiery of Shadaloo, his feral screams of fear echoing far into the city.

None would pay them any heed.

#street fighter #street fighter oc #oc: judas savage #vega #claw #HOOOOOOO I'M SO FUCKING BACK BAYBEEEEEE

[kingwu]

💤

❤️

👻

🧸

♛ || misc. symbol headcanons

💤 - How does your muse sleep? Are they a light sleeper, or are they out the moment their head hits the pillow? Do they nap? Do they struggle to sleep due to things like insomnia, or nightmares?

He sleeps lavishly LOL. This spoiled ass prince king needs to have a plush bed with silky sheets that stay cool in the summer and warm, fluffy comforters in the winter, and five billion pillows. His bed is a comfy, cozy nest. He's definitely a heavy, heavy sleeper. His preferred position is side sleeping with a giant pillow to both hold and have between his legs while also surrounded by the rest of his army of his cushions. He's prone to oversleep if he actually doesn't have anything on his agenda, however if he makes appointments in the morning (whether it's business or self-care spa treatments), he will be on time. And he def uses the term "beauty sleep".

He doesn't fall asleep immediately, but doesn't struggle to fall asleep either. He has a routine (skin and hair things before bed) that's rather meditative before he finally climbs under the covers.

Bonus headcanon: While being small spoon is very nice and mimics the way his tons of pillows cradle him, he actually likes being the big spoon a lot when he's sleeping or cuddling with his partner.

❤️ - How did your muse come to realize their romantic and sexual orientations? Was it difficult to accept? Are they proud of who they are?

As I stated before, I headcanon him as bi, with a stronger preference for men — because, hey, there's more than one way to present as bi.

He does genuinely find women attractive, but he's absolute shit at trying to woo (pun not intended) any of them and that's definitely entirely his fault LOL.

As far as finding out that he's interested in men, I think it came from a young age, but not in realizing that what he was feeling was attraction instead of admiration. Toeing, but not identifying, the feeling of "do I want to be him or do I want to be with him?" when finding another guy attractive.

With the canon of Turf Wars discussing how the Earth Kingdom is the slowest as far as progressiveness goes, that's definitely the root of his compulsive heterosexuality. It wasn't until he moved to Republic City to attend RCU that he started to see folks in non-hetero relationships and related to them more. He didn't find other people in those kinds of relationships bothersome, because, hey, they're not hurting anyone and they're happy, but his reflexes still personally leaned into his comphet ways, buuuut let's just say he doesn't kiss and tell about a couple of instances from his college years. Eventually, he softened to the idea that, yeah, him doing these things is okay if it's okay for other people to do the same.

Part of him is just a little apprehensive in the sense of being under the microscope of the public eye, mostly in wanting to protect his partner — whether not that may be a man/woman/nonbinary person because people still have weird perceptions about bi people no matter who their partner is — but his big ego also says that Hey He's The King He Can Do Whatever He Wants. He is proud of loving who he is in love with, but also doesn't want to hurt them.

👻 - How does your muse handle feeling scared? Do they enjoy horror? Do they believe in the paranormal? What calms your muse down? Do they have any scary stories?

Answered here.

🧸 - Does your muse own any sentimental objects from their past? What makes it/them so special?

He has a stuffed bear, like a plushie shaped like an actual bear, from when he was a child. King Kuei's Bosco was of course very well known, especially after the king and his best pal went traveling the world — and of course the strange sight of Just A Bear, so I would imagine that people made merchandise featuring the bear. So, little Wu definitely had a plush fashioned after his great-grandfather's best friend.

It's very worn and well-loved, but he has the privilege of getting it repaired if needed, never replaced (even if he also had the means of doing so). He currently doesn't sleep with it, but makes sure it's safe and it also travels with him, just as Actual Bosco did with Kuei. (He doesn't believe the rumor that Hou-ting ate Bosco because that's terrifying — even if it may be true given how she is.)

#ask #thewhorradora #wu headcanons with al #ask meme #long post

[lostacelonnie]

Surviving is one thing but befriending the alt girls? Now thats thriving congrats on the friend acquisition. Oh yeah absolutely thats super cool of your mom. To be so chill. More parents should aspire to be so chill. Birds are just chill dudes who exist & you can see them & its great. Fuck gulls though. They're nice to look at but will be bastards if you have food in some places. Ive been trying to learn german here & there and it is. Something. Mood but for english. Who needs grammer rules fuck em. I dont know polish so i definitely cant say. You probably mentioned it that sounds familiar but dang. Well it at least wont be as bad? My joke answer is gay sex would be less gay than whatever bronya/seele & march/stelle have goin on. My serious answer is that but also that was really well paced & written. Svarog my bro. Love him. Cocolia confrontation had killer music & the interaction with preservation was cool too. Love fire stelle abilities. Mobile is tough but just gotta fuck it we ball through it. Ill definitely have to add rain world to my list. Dredge is like. Lovecraftian horror fishing sim. Its really neat. River city girls is a simple beat em up adventure game where you fight through town doin little quests on your way through the main one. Real fun easy controls & the soundtrack is real good. Please do id love to hear your exploits. Yeah i have work a lot & so does she plus her kids so i dont talk to mine much either. Im getting to the point in star rail where i am catching up like genshin so ill probably log in less on that too unless more story happens or an event catches my eye. After next planet story anyways. Im not far enough in simulated universe to do swarm disaster sadly. Just gotta. Level them characters as usual. Ps5 star rail gave me gepard which he's good but like. I want bronya

YEAH ITS GREAT and thank you!! we have different groups this year and im very happy ab this bc most of the popular girls im scared of that i shared a group with last year are in the other one now. so im chillen. yeah shes VERY epic hehehehe!!!!! love her. YEAH frfr i agree.... ab the gulls as well i almost got Physically Attacked by one when i was on a trip on an island near alicante cos i was hanging out in the sea and went towards a small island not far away from the shore. not knowing there was a gull nest on it. but i took the hint when one started Screaming at me like halfway through. god i am scared of these things. theyre cool but from a safe distance. and ahhh good luck with learning german!! i took 4 years of it in primary school and still dont know a thing. but its a very charming language so maybe when i get a solid hang of spanish, ill revisit it. tho it Is funny to joke with my friends ab how i didnt allow ppl to germanize me. german was mandatory under the nazi occupation and theres this one patriotic song with the lines "nie będzie niemiec pluł nam w twarz / ni dzieci nam germanił" [the german will not spit in our face / nor germanize our children] but these days its often used for jokes ab having to learn the language. and yeah i suppose thats true!! it is what it is. anyway. YEAH i actually agree with both the joking and serious part andkfnjjb ESPECIALLY the cocolia boss fight. GOD that was cool. i honestly dont use fire trailblazer abilities that much but yes she does come in handy. good luck with surviving on mobile o7 also keep me updated if you do end up playing it!!!!!! its unbelievably hard but like. in a good way. OOH BOTH OF THESE SOUND VERY FUN!! speaking of which i have so many games i wanna play..... but i literally just spent around 200zł [a bit under 46 dollars] two days ago [wait im gonna tell you how in a second]. which actually connects to dye update: i redid my hair since it washed off pretty quickly [but ah i look so nice in red] for the very event i ended up spending way too much money on. and yeah fair rn im actually going onto genshin more often than star rail bc the fontaine exploration + catching up on sumeru exploration is just. So fun. havent played swarm disaster yet either...... no time...... i have a Lot of stuff to do for school recently. its been like what. 2 weeks. and we already finished the first chapter from history and were gonna have an exam soon. which im Dreading btw bc for some reason i went for extended history in school despite being physically unable to remember dates. but hey at least extended geography is easy [so far]. so fuck it we ball. anyway ah congrats on getting gepard!!! hes pretty overpowered yeah but i want bronya as well [i say barely ever logging into the game]. which is pretty funny bc i already got 3 5* things on standard in star rail while being like 150 pulls in and they were two claras and GEPARDS LIGHTCONE. which i cant even use on march since i run her in clara teams in which i need the taunt on clara. Lol. but whatever. ANYWAY ABOUT THE EVENT uhhh you Might recall that i went to like a. con-adjacent thing last year. its actually just mainly for buying merch but a Lot of people go in cosplays. anyway i went this year as well and got a bunch of prints [of focalors, fischl, signora, silver wolf, kafka, and miku], and some other stuff [charms of himeko starrail, silver wolf, and kafka, as well as bronya honkaiimpact3rd and kafka pins]. and a very cute choker. so YEAH for the sheer amount of stuff i got id say its a very good price but i still feel bad ab spending so much money in one go sjdkgkgjh

#but oh well!! a small price to pay for my anime niunie #asks #pen pals

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Kilgharrah: “Kill that child, Merlin.”

Merlin (like a normal person): “No?? What the fuck???”

And with that, everything changed.

Part 2   Part 3(final part)

“You must let the boy die.”

Kilgharrah’s voice echoed incessantly through Merlin’s head for days after the Druid boy’s appearance, and subsequent disappearance. 

Merlin had, of course, ignored the scaly old bastard, and hadn’t once questioned if he’d done the right thing by hiding Mordred away in his tiny bedroom.

If the boy truly had such a terrible destiny, then the best thing for Merlin to do was to keep him close, if not to steer him away from his fate, then to at least be able to see it coming if it was indeed inevitable.

Currently, Morgana was the only one aware that Mordred was still here (other than Gaius of course, who was somehow disapproving and proud at the same time). As far as everyone else was concerned, Arthur and Uther included, the boy was never found, and must have slipped out of the city somehow (going by the extra patrols in the woods, as opposed to the castle and town).

The Warlock was nervous about anyone knowing at first, but when Morgana had tearfully thanked him for saving Mordred, and proceeded to sneak in spare blankets, food, and money for clothes, Merlin was glad for the co-conspirator.

The boy was currently curled up in the corner of Merlin’s room, a pile of blankets and pillows organised like a bird’s nest around him, wearing a soft shirt and sleeping the night away.

Merlin watched him from his bed, realising with growing horror just how protective of Mordred he had already become. He was so young. How could Merlin even consider punishing a child for some stupid destiny he didn’t even know about?

He had to think of a solution quickly. He couldn’t risk sending him away, not even to the Druids, they were as much slaves to the so-called prophecies as Kilgharrah was, and Merlin had once been (”Gods. Sounds like I’ve been dealing with destiny for years. It’s been like six months. I’m too young for this shit.”). But equally... what could he do with him??

Thankfully, no one had really gotten a good look at the boy, so hopefully with a change of clothes and a haircut, he wouldn’t be recognised, at least not if Merlin came up with a convincing enough story.

To be honest... the cover story worried him far more than the prospect of someone recognising him. Uther hadn’t recognised Nimueh, the woman who had been his court sorceress for years... the man was apparently not very observant.

In the end, it was a throwaway comment by Morgana a few days later, about a week after the Druid boy had “escaped” that gave Merlin a very stupid idea. So stupid, that it might just work.

~

Morgana had once again snuck away from the main castle to sit with Merlin and Mordred in the servant’s room. 

Gaius had said nothing as she’d entered the Physician’s chambers, enough food for four hidden away in the picnic basket she carried, just raised his eyebrow slightly, and thanked The Lady for the food offering that was definitely-not-a-bribe.

She gave him a quick wink, and the old physician rolled his eyes fondly as he set an overturned bucket in front of the door; if anyone came in, they would come in loudly.

Mordred was happy to see her, and Merlin hid a fond smile at the boy’s quiet giggles. He still didn’t speak much, so it was a relief to see him finding joy in something, even if it was clandestine visits from Uther’s ward.

She ruffled his hair slightly, resisting the urge to pull the touch averse boy into a tight hug, and set the basket on the bed. Merlin sat against the pillows, and Morgana sat down opposite him, the basket in between them as Mordred clambered up to sit just in front of Merlin.

Morgana and Merlin talked quietly as they ate, Mordred staying silent as the adults (or...as adult as they could get. Like Merlin kept thinking to himself, he was too young for this shit at sixteen, and Morgana was only two years older than him) avoided the elephant in the room.

The elephant being that they couldn’t keep this up forever. Arthur had a habit of bursting in whenever he so pleased, and it was a miracle he hadn’t done so already. Plus, it would be cruel to expect Mordred to stay cooped up in here for much longer. He was a child, he deserved to play outside and explore and do all the other things he couldn’t do in Merlin’s bedroom.

Once they finished eating, Mordred moved to his makeshift bed in the corner, tightly clutching a book that Morgana had bought him, and furrowing his brows in concentration as he read.

Morgana stared at him with a soft smile, and Merlin sighed, once again worrying about his new ward’s future.

Morgana tilts her head, as if a sudden thought had occurred to her, and looks slowly between Merlin and Mordred as the servant raises a questioning eyebrow at her.

“You know Merlin, the two of you look remarkably similar.”

Mordred is engrossed in his book, and doesn’t react at all to Morgana’s quiet comment, but Merlin’s eyebrow goes even higher as he huffs out a laugh:

“You think? I don’t see it.”

Morgana looks at him with a deadpan expression:

“Merlin, you don’t have a mirror in here. I’m fairly certain you have no concept of what you look like.-”

Merlin looks indignantly offended for all of two seconds before he sighs and nods, she’s right to be fair. He’s tall-ish, with pale skin, and he thinks he has brown hair. That’s about all he knows.

Morgana chuckles as she once again looks at Mordred:

“You both have very dark hair, bright blue eyes, pale skin. You know...-”

She looks back at him with a thoughtful frown on her face:

“-if someone told me you were brothers... I’d believe it.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow:

“Really?”

She nods decisively:

“Yeah. I mean, the more I think about it, the more I look between you, yes. You could definitely be related.”

Merlin nods his head slowly, thinking. He takes in a deep breath and tilts his head slightly:

“It could work. I haven’t really talked to anyone about my family so... we could say that... he came to live with me? Because life here is... good?”

Morgana snorts slightly, rolling her eyes before looking back at him seriously:

“You’d have to be more convincing than that. You could say that the harvest was poor in your village? That Mordred was better off coming to stay with his big brother in the big city?”

Merlin nods at her words, grimacing slightly as he mutters:

“If we’re running with the whole... brother thing, I need to write a letter to my mum, just in case. Gods she’s going to laugh so much.”

Morgana laughs at him quietly, but the noise finally catches Mordred’s attention and he looks up in confusion. Merlin moves the basket to the floor, and gestures to the boy to come over.

He walks over wordlessly, climbing up to kneel between them, biting his lip nervously.

“Is it time for me to leave, Emrys?” echoes through Merlin’s head, and he gives the boy a comforting smile, shaking his head slightly, before saying out loud:

“You’re staying with me, Mordred-”

The boy smiles slightly as he stares at Merlin in reverence, and Morgana quickly hides her questioning gaze. She could see that there was more between them than simple protectiveness over a child, and thankfulness for being saved, but she kept her thoughts to herself as Merlin continued:

“-but we can’t keep you hidden in here forever, so we’re going to tell people that you’re my younger brother, come to live with me. Is that alright?”

Mordred nods his head vigorously, and Merlin chuckles slightly as the boy’s grin grew:

“Ok. We’ll get you a haircut and tell Gaius the plan. Probably wait a few more days for things to settle down further, and then see how it goes, ok?”

Mordred nods once more, smile not leaving his face. Morgana bites her lip to stop herself from laughing at Merlin’s shocked face when the boy threw himself into the servant’s arms for a tight hug.

~

Merlin spends the next few days teaching Mordred all about Ealdor and his mother and Will, so that the boy could have at least a little knowledge on what was supposedly his home and family.

The next time Morgana came to visit, she brought a comb and a sharp pair of scissors, as well as a few more changes of clothes that looked less... Druid. By the time she left that evening, Mordred had much shorter hair, and a wide grin on his face at the prospect of finally being able to go outside (he was Druid after all, he needed trees and fresh air).

The letter had been sent home, and Merlin was expecting a reply any day now. The only thing left to worry about was how to hide Mordred’s Druid marking. It would be easy to cover with clothes, but Uther’s increasing paranoia meant that it would be best if they could find a more permanent solution.

Gaius suggested some sort of glamour spell fairly quickly, but Merlin was unwilling to cast one on the boy until he’d mastered it.

And THAT meant showing up to serve Arthur with ink all over his hands that he had tried and failed to cover.

Merlin had also realised with dawning horror, that he would have to tell Morgana the truth. She knew about the marking, and she was smart, there was no way that hiding it wasn’t something that had occurred to her. She would bring it up eventually, and how could Merlin explain without having to... explain??

Morgana was already risking her favour with the King, and frankly, her life, by protecting a Druid... she would do the same for Merlin, right? But Mordred hadn’t actually done any magic... BUT she’d always spoken against executions... BUT Merlin had lied and hidden it from her, his friend...

Hmm...

In the end, he’d decided he would just have to suck it up, and tell her. Fuck whatever that dragon said. After Kilgharrah’s last round of... advice, Merlin had been ignoring his calls. If there was an emergency, the cryptic bastard would tell him, and until then he could just sulk in that cave on his own.

That two weeks was also enough for Uther to become convinced that the mysterious Druid boy really was long gone, and to just forget about it. He was pissed of course, but talking about it and extending the search just highlighted that a child, barely eleven summers, had managed to evade all of his forces and that... did not cast him in a good light.

It took Merlin about two weeks to fully master the spell, which was longer than the three of them were hoping, but he was adamant that he perfect it before he cast it on Mordred, and Gaius was incredibly impressed at his ward’s determination.

Morgana was of course confused about why they kept pushing it back, she thought they were only going to wait a few days before they started introducing Mordred, but she trusted Merlin and saw no harm in waiting a little longer.

When Morgana arrived that evening, she could tell that Merlin was... anxious. They’d agreed on a specific day to make introductions but it wasn’t until the end of this week, it didn’t make any sense for Merlin to suddenly be nervous about it.

Mordred wasn’t quite as good at hiding his emotions, and didn’t even giggle like he normally did when Morgana came over, just stared at his “brother” anxiously.

Morgana rolled her eyes and huffed as she shut the door:

“Alright, Merlin. What is it? Spit it out.”

Merlin opened his mouth, about to come out with an excuse, before he snapped it shut again and took a deep breath.

It worried him, how easy, how automatic it was for him to lie, but that was a worry for another time.

Mordred reached up and took his hand, squeezing it, and Merlin looked down at him with a weak smile before sitting on the bed and gesturing that Morgana join him.

She looked at him worriedly, but settles where he gestures, and doesn’t acknowledge the way Mordred sits defensively between them.

The boy looks back at Merlin:

“Are you sure, Emrys?”

Merlin gives him another smile, and squeezes his shoulder slightly as he raises an eyebrow:

“I’m sure. And you need to get used to calling me Merlin at some point.”

Mordred pouts slightly, and Merlin ruffles his hair as he laughs, before looking back up at Morgana’s questioning stare.

He takes another deep breath, before slowly speaking:

“I... we’ve found a way to properly hide Mordred’s marking.”

Morgana looks taken aback, but relieved:

“Oh. Is that all? That’s good isn’t it? I have to admit, it was worrying me.”

Merlin gulps:

“Yeah it... it is good... it’s just, it involves... magic.”

Morgana raises her eyebrow, and nods slowly, as if it were obvious:

“I figured it would be. It’s not like it would be easy or reliable to cover it with make-up every morning, or hide it with clothes.-”

It’s Merlin’s turn to look taken aback now, and Mordred fixes her with an unreadable expression. Morgana continues:

“-The problem, lies in finding someone willing to do whatever spell it is. Someone we could trust wouldn’t share the secret, no matter what.”

Merlin grimaces slightly, more gulping, and taking yet another deep breath:

“We already have someone. Me.”

Morgana gasps slightly, and she’s vaguely aware of the brothers in front of her tensing up, but all she can focus on is the gold of Merlin’s irises.

The gold fades, and Merlin clears his throat, breaking her out of her stupor. She reaches over and punches Merlin harshly on the arm before getting up and beginning to pace, speechless.

Merlin and Mordred panic at first, but when she makes no moves towards the door in her pacing, they relax. That only lasts for a moment or two however, before she looks back to Merlin, furious:

“Are you thick Merlin? Why on earth would you learn magic in Camelot of all places?? Do you have a death wish!?”

Merlin laughs slightly, cheeks turning pink as he rubs the back of his neck:

“Actually uh... I was born with magic; I’ve always had it. My mother sent me here because she thought I would learn to control it better.”

Morgana looks incredulous as she continues to rant:

“What? With the fear of execution hanging over your head?! That’s not control, that’s terror.”

Merlin shrugs:

“It works though. My magic is mostly instinctual, the threat of torture by pyre sure as hell stops me from losing control when I’m angry or scared or whatever...”

Morgana huffs, crossing her arms and fixing him with a glare. Both Merlin and Mordred cower slightly as they are reminded of angry and disproving mothers; as if they were about to be scolded for getting their clothes dirty, or ruining their dinner with too many snacks.

She just stares at him for a minute, before she sags slightly, and begins chuckling at the boys’ fearful faces:

“You are ridiculous. But it’s far too late to persuade you to leave now. Does Arthur know?”

Merlin’s face morphs into a mournful frown, as he looks to the floor and mumbles:

“No. I wish I could tell him but... with Uther...”

Morgana sighs, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder:

“Uther won’t be here forever. We’ll just have to keep Arthur from turning into too much of a prat before he becomes King.-”

Merlin laughs at that, and looks up to give the woman a grateful smile. She returns his smile before continuing:

“-So, you can do the spell?”

Merlin winces slightly and gestures for Mordred to pull the collar of his shirt down, to reveal a blank patch of skin:

“I’ve actually already done it. It’ll stay there permanently until I take it off. Though we should keep checking, just in case.”

Morgana looks surprised, and smiles:

“What’s the problem then?-”

She rolls her eyes when Merlin looks at her incredulously:

“-Oh, come on Merlin. I’m not going to turn you in, you’re safe with me. You both are, and you always will be.”

The servant jumps up to give her a tight hug, which she quickly returns as Mordred nervously joins in. Morgana smiles to herself, and squeezes her boys tighter.

She may love Uther and Arthur, and she knew they loved her back, in their own way, but this? This was family.

~

The time finally came for Merlin to introduce his baby brother. Hunith had supposedly dropped him off late last night and left immediately, having to get back home quickly. 

Morgana had gone to gather Gwen and Arthur whilst Merlin and Mordred waited in their room (it was definitely their room now, instead of just Merlin’s).

It was early in the morning, and to say that Arthur was grumpy at being woken by Morgana instead of Merlin, was an understatement.

But he eventually caved, and dressed himself as he grumbled, allowing Morgana to drag him to meet Gwen (who was equally confused) before the three of them made their way to the Physician’s chambers.

Gaius was suspiciously absent, and Morgana knocked on Merlin’s door, before slowly opening it and walking in, Arthur and Gwen following her quickly.

Gwen was surprised at the sight of Merlin stood behind a child, hands protectively on his shoulders, but smiled and gave Mordred a soft wave in greeting.

Arthur however, froze, and stared at the boy with a shocked expression.

Morgana moved to stand next to Mordred, and took one of his hands as Merlin began to speak:

“Gwen, Arthur, I want you to meet my baby brother, Mordred. He’s come to live with me.”

Gwen waved again, and bent over to Mordred’s height:

“Hi Mordred, I’m Guinevere, but all my friends call me Gwen. I didn’t know that Merlin had a brother, but it’s lovely to meet you.”

Mordred gave her a small smile, and Merlin suppressed a chuckle as-

“I like her, Em- Merlin.”

-echoed through his head.

Arthur’s gaze moved away from Mordred finally, up to Merlin.

Merlin stared back at him blankly, but Arthur saw the way his jaw clenched as he moved a protective hand down, to pull Mordred closer to him.

The Prince let out a deep sigh, growling slightly as Gwen looked at him in confusion, and Morgana and Merlin stared at him challengingly.

He shook his head as his shoulders sagged, and he rubbed at his eyes with the palms of his hands before looking back to Mordred with a strained smile:

“It’s nice to meet you, Mordred. My name’s Arthur.”

With that, Morgana smirks slightly, and Merlin relaxes. Gwen just rolls her eyes:

“Sorry about him Mordred, he doesn’t spend much time around people your age.”

Mordred gives her another smile, and Merlin glances to Gwen, before looking down at Mordred:

“Why don’t you go with Morgana and Gwen to see the city a little? Me and Arthur need to talk, I’ll catch up with you later, ok?”

Mordred turns around quickly, and grabs Merlin’s hand tightly:

“You promise??”

Gwen holds in an “awww” and Morgana hides her smile. Mordred rarely talks aloud (she’d been told of the mental link), but she’s glad to see he was feeling at least a little more comfortable.

Merlin crouches down, and pulls the boy into a tight hug, stroking his hair slightly as he stares straight at Arthur:

“I promise. I’ll never leave you for long Mordred.”

Arthur gulps at Merlin’s hard stare, but gives him an almost imperceptible nod, which Merlin returns as he stands up. Mordred gives him one more look as he takes one of Morgana’s hands, and one of Gwen’s, and follows them out of the room.

Morgana shuts the door quietly, and Arthur sighs again before looking at Merlin:

“What are you thinking Merlin?? You just thought I wouldn’t notice?”

Merlin crosses his arms, his glare still hard:

“No, I knew you would notice, I just had faith that you’re a better man than your father.”

Arthur is still deep in his “my father can do no wrong” faze, and takes great offense at that, taking a threatening step forward and growling:

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Merlin just huffs and raises an eyebrow slightly:

“I had assumed that you were not the type of man to have a child executed, just for existing.-”

Merlin copies Arthur’s step forward, raising his chin and continuing, his voice low and dangerous:

“-Did I assume correctly? Because there is nothing I wouldn’t do to protect that kid, Arthur. Nothing.”

Arthur stares at him incredulously, only managing to hold Merlin’s surprisingly confident stare for a few moments, before nodding and stepping back:

“Of course. He’s a child, Merlin, I won’t see him hurt, if I can help it.”

Merlin nods slowly, not looking away from Arthur as he softly says:

“I’ll hold you to that.-”

He walks around The Prince, opening the door and stepping halfway through before looking over his shoulder, and quietly saying to a confused Arthur:

“-If you truly believed that all magic is evil, and always corrupted, no matter what, then you wouldn’t care that he’s a child; you’d want him dead anyway. So perhaps think about your... prejudices, a little more deeply, maybe you’ll discover you are different to Uther in other ways as well.”

Before Arthur can even really process what Merlin said, the servant is shutting the door behind him, and rushing off to find his new brother.

~

OK SO!!! 

I really LOVED writing this, there will definitely be more parts, I just figured I should end it here before I got carried away

This series is finished!! (Links at the top <3 )

#bbc merlin #merthur #good morgana #prince arthur #eventual merthur #part one #morgana #guinevere #gwen #merlin/morgana friendship #child mordred #good mordred #mordred #uther #uther is a dick #the beginning of the end #bamf merlin #merlin is a top in this and arthur is forcefully made aware #bbc mordred #merlin adopts mordred #merlin accidentally-on-purpose becomes a brother/dad?? #arthur #arthur pendragon #uther pendragon #king uther #magic reveal #morgana knows about merlins magic #kilgharrah #kilgharrah is a dick #FUCK destiny

[walkerwords]

“To Feel Better” Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: AMC

Request from Anonymous: for your requests i saw a prompt where it was person A finding excuses to hold person B's hand such as my hands are cold will you warm them for me I think that would be cute with Daryl. 

Word Count: 1859

Warning: Swearing

Song I Wrote To: “Cardigan” by Taylor Swift

Note: I love fluff requests yall! This one is set during the time our survivors are looking for shelter after the fall of the farm!

---------

When the farm fell, nobody knew what they were doing. 

Herschel and Rick were doing their best to keep some sort of order within the group, but they could only do so much once the cold set in and the food became more scarce. Then after losing some people during the invasion of Walkers and Shane’s attempt at a coup, pieces felt as if they were being broken off.

Andrea had been someone who you trusted wholeheartedly. You had been with her and her sister, Amy, since the beginning. Andrea had protected you both, but in the end it had been Amy who befell the fate of the new world. Her death still followed you around and you knew that it had haunted her sister for a while as well. If anything, it had made Andrea harder and more resilient. Still, she kept her eyes on you and you knew that if it came down to it, you would protect her with everything you had. That remained true until you saw her go down on the farm and never saw her reemerge from the horde as Daryl pulled you on to the back of his bike and took off down the dirt path. 

Now it was only a matter of time before someone else was lost. With the larger herds moving North all the time, the group had to keep moving and there wasn’t any time to rest for more than a couple of days. With Lori being pregnant, it was definitely causing more issues. You were exhausted, Shane was dead, Rick was keeping something a secret, and Carl was growing up before your eyes. It was too much, too fast. 

Winter was coming and going, the weather never staying the same in the South. You had been used to that your entire life, but without constant shelter or warm meals, every time the temperature dropped even a fraction, stress levels skyrocketed within the group and it was starting to get to you. Daryl, someone you had grown closer to since the farm, had tried to keep your spirits up the best he could, but there was only so much he could do. 

It was late one night when you found yourself alone on watch. Rick and Maggie had found a house that was far enough from the road with working locks and insulated enough to offer warmth. Nobody dared light a fire in case the Living decided to poke around, but it was better than sleeping in another field with one eye open. 

You were rubbing a stray bullet between your fingers as you saw on a bench just in front of the house when Daryl approached, the gun that housed said bullet was in your other hand. “I got watch,” he said, taking a seat next to you. 

“I’m fine,” you said, keeping your eyes on the dark wall of trees before you. 

“Ya need sleep,” he argued, but you remained still.

“I said, I’m fine,” you repeated. 

“Ya, that’s what ya always say,” he said. It was silent then as he sat next to you. Daryl knew when not to push you and this was definitely one of those times. If there was one person who could sit in complete silence and say more with just their body language it was you and Daryl appreciated that after hours of constant noise from the rest of the group. 

It was after a while that Daryl finally realized what you kept playing with in your hand. He recognized it as a gun that was once shoved in his face when he had first arrived at the quarry with Merle. “That Walsh’s gun?” he asked, nodding his head toward the pistol. You nodded, turning over the weapon in your hand. He wasn’t sure where you had found it, but he could tell that you had cleaned it up. “You thinkin’ about him?” 

“I don’t know what happened,” you finally said. “He was so strong…”

“Even the most level-headed people can get corrupted by this world,” Daryl said and you thought it was one of the most profound things he had ever said. Then again, you figured that Daryl was incredibly bright and he just didn’t let people see that side of him. 

“I thought he’d be one of the last people standing,” you admitted. 

“Didn’t realize you were that close,” Daryl said with a frown. 

“He saved my life,” you said with a shrug, remembering back to all the times Shane had pulled a Walker off of you when you were distracted. “He always looked out for Amy, too. Look, he wasn’t a great man, I know that, but I owed him enough. I was hoping he’d make it at least a few more years.”

“I get that,” Daryl said with a sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. You had noticed that it was getting longer, especially on the sides. 

“Sorry,” you said, “I know you hated him.” 

“I didn’t trust him,” Daryl clarified. 

“Fair enough.” 

You sat back into silence then. Your ears were scanning for the familiar groans of the Dead or the subtle footprints of the Living, but so far, nothing had approached the newest nest for the group. You were definitely missing the RV on the more treacherous nights.

Daryl was quiet before he looked over at you. You could see his face out of the corner of your eye, but you tried your hardest to ignore him. You knew Daryl had been looking out for you for a while. Or rather he had been watching you and you knew he was worried, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take any extra steps towards him. No matter how much you wanted it. 

“You know,” you began, breaking the silence, “I wanted to study old bones and all that.” 

“So, an anthropologist?” Daryl said. You looked over at him with shock on your face and he clocked it immediately. “What, I watched the History Channel,” he defended, causing you to laugh. 

“Yeah, Daryl, just like that,” you said. “I wanted to know how humanity began, but I’m only seeing what we’ve become,” you said as you stared at a Walker corpse that Maggie had downed a few hours before. 

Your hand began to twitch then, a nervous habit you had developed as a teenager. It always exposed everything that you were too afraid to say. There was something about the way your body always knew what was wrong before your mind did. You figured it was something to do with the survival instincts that had kicked in the night they dropped fire on Atlanta and other major cities. 

Daryl noticed your hand instantly. “You’re doing it again,” he said quietly. 

“Nervous habit,” you said, clenching your fist, trying to quiet your nerves. “It used to drive my mom crazy.”

“You don’t talk about her anymore,” Daryl noticed. Turning to look at him, you furrowed your brow. “It’s just, ya used to talk about her at the quarry with Amy and Andrea a lot,” he said with a shrug. 

“Guess I haven’t been in the mood to be sentimental lately,” you said. 

“I get that,” he said as he continued to watch the slight tremor in your palms. “My mom died before all this,” he said  and you were surprised to hear him say anything about his family. Besides Merle, Daryl never mentioned anything about his past. At least, not to you. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. 

“I’m just glad ya know, that she didn’t have to see all this shit,” he said and you knew what he was talking about. In an odd way, anyone who had died before the outbreak lucked out. Nobody deserved to see the new horrors of the world and nobody deserved to be fighting tooth and nail just to survive. Lifting your head to the sky, you watched as a single star shot across the darkness before it disappeared again in the plethora of stars and scattered moonlight. 

“Odd, isn’t it?” you asked. 

“What?” 

“That because the world is dark, we finally see the stars. Living in cities always hid them,” you said with a sigh. 

“Yeah,” Daryl said, following your gaze. 

“ ‘Moonlight drowns out all but the brightest stars’,” you quoted with ease.

“Tolkien, huh?” Daryl said, recognizing the words. 

“Look at you,” you teased and Daryl rolled his eyes. 

“I read,” Daryl defended and you raised your hands in surrender. The movement then sparked something in Daryl as he caught your hand in his and held it gently. Your hands stilled from the warmth and firm grip of the archer’s hands. You were sitting in silence as he began to rub his thumbs along the nerves and muscles in your hands. 

Daryl was silent as he caressed your hand, taking his time to soothe your anxieties away. “You are gonna be okay,” he whispered, his focus on his task. 

“How do you know?” you whispered back. 

“Because ya ain’t one to let this world beat ya,” Daryl said simply. You took a minute for that to sink in and you knew that he was right. If anything, you were not going to give up so that the dying world took you with it. You knew that death was inevitable, but you also knew that you had come too far already to start to give up now. “Do you know the story of the man who fought off three bears and lived?” Daryl asked suddenly. 

Looking over at him, you raised your brows. “What?” Daryl nodded. 

“Yeah, the crazy son of a bitch jumped into a bear enclosure at a zoo to test if he could survive the worst possible thing,” he said. “Fought them all off with his hands and a tree branch. Nobody thought a person could do that and he did. Only came out of there with a broken hand.” 

“Is there a moral to this story?” you asked. Daryl turned your hand over in his, tracing the lines on your palm. 

“Don’t try to fight bears unless you’re high on pretty hardcore shit because he had to have been, right?” Daryl said easily and you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of your chest. Daryl gave you a smile then and you realized what he was doing. 

“Was that story even true?” you asked. 

“Nah,” Daryl said. “Does it matter, though?” 

“Not at all,” you whispered, wrapping your other hand around the joined ones between you. Moving closer to him, you leaned into him, feeling his body heat. “Thanks.” 

Daryl gently lifted your hand to his face and pressed a kiss to the back of it in a very rare act of tenderness. His lips lingered on your skin for just a second before relaxing further into you.

“Anytime,” he murmured as you sank into comfortable silence and watched for the enemy that was sure enough to break through your newfound bubble of peace. However, you knew that when that happened, the man by your side would be the one to jump into the fray and wrestle with a few bears of his own. 

TAGS: @thanossexual​ @felicisimor​ @moonstuffsteve​ @lucillethings​ @stark-dreams​ 

#walkerwords #the walking dead #twd imagines #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon #twd #imagines #daryl x gn reader #daryl x reader #daryl imagine

[cloudninetonine]

Imagine a wings!au Hyrule but Player doesn't have wings (people don't hav them in their world). Maybe there's an unspoken rule that Hylians don't hurts others' wings, even if it's a monster (bokoblin for example). Let's say Player has no qualms fighting "dirty" i.e. throwing sand, nut shots, going for the wings if in danger. Wild might not have wings either (Calamity) and they bond over climbing everywhere. Wild is better at rock climbing but Player can parkour around a city like nobody's business. Chain not sure how to handle these two, but being horrified and impressed when Player jumps off a ledge onto an airborne monster and starts tearing out/at the feathers/skin. The chain not being able to fly in high-speed winds and Wild and Player trying to teach them to climb this tiny cliff they need to get up. Teaching them how and letting them preen their wings (Wild forgot) when they're more comfortable with each other. Player crying at the level of trust and how soft they are, especially since the chain has watched them target wings before with vicious brutality. Maybe the chain has hollow bones, too, so theyre shocked at how heavy Player is, but also the amount of force it takes to even fracture a bone. NEXT-LEVEL BLANKET NESTS

-Cosmo

Player would most definitely cry if the boys let them preen their wings. The boy in question is just "You good?" and the Player, snot and tears, just blubbering "Yeah" as they check for any bad feathers.

Oh, the Player is definitely a dirty fighter, if they're going down they're going down screaming so they go for the monster wings, tearing and ripping them apart while the Chain (and probably the other monsters they were fighting) watch in complete horror.

#cloud answers #Anon asks

[hintofelation99]

Can you describe the batfam by the type of movies or series they like to watch? Also what are the other's reaction whenever they watch it together?

Hell yeah! Tbh I feel like movie nights would be some of the most frustrating nights in Wayne manor, just cause everyone is hella opinionated. Like they take turns letting each other choose movies but even then they fight for at least an hour over what was chosen. But here's what each member typically chooses when it's their turn. Also I briefly mention their reactions in here but I'll probs do a Batfam Movie Night dialogue, fic, series, thingy (??? Idk what to call those things) and I'll link it back to this ask when I do. Link.

Dick:

Genres— Musicals, Rom Coms, Spy Movies

Favorite Movies— Mamma Mia, Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again, The Greatest Showman, Notting Hill, Pretty Woman, A Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Kingsman

Basically Dick is guaranteed to pick a musical or a rom com. He loves things that are big and dramatic and beautiful, but also a bit cheesey and silly. Like him.

Everyone groans when Dick chooses the movie because they know it will be a bit cheesey or the stereotypical "Chick Flick". That being said usually what he picks is genuinely good (Mamma Mia and Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again are both masterpieces) and they leave everyone laughing or feeling happy.

Dick does also love classic foreign films (mostly European) because they remind him of movies his parents would sometimes take him to see, this wasn't super common but occasionally the Graysons would find a local theater showing classics.

He used to love the Kingsman movies but stopped liking them after everything that happened with Spyral.

Babs:

Genres— Sci-Fi, Comedy, Rom Coms

Favorite Movies— A Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, The Martian, Star Wars, Star Trek, When Harry Met Sally

Babs is a complete nerd and loves all of the Star Wars and Star Trek movies. She'll occasionally watch Lord of the Rings with Tim but she definitely prefers the nerdy Sci-Fi movies.

She only started liking Rom Coms after dating Dick, he loves them so much that it was pretty difficult for her to not start liking them as well.

When watching one of her favs Babs will be mouthing along the entire time. She also has a lot of cool memorabilia from her favorite franchises.

Jason:

Genres— Classics, Dramas

Favorite Movies— Twelve Angry Men, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, To Kill a Mockingbird

Jason isn't too big on movies. And surprisingly he's not usually super opinionated about movies, he can be pretty opinionated on which movie the family will watch. This is less because he's trying to be combative and more because he's sick of watching his siblings favorite movies, he feels like hes seen them all a million times.

Typically Jason isn't a huge fan of movie adaptations or remakes. They don't bother him and he doesn't care when a new one's released but he's not going to watch it.

Sometimes Jason will accidentally fall asleep during family movie night, these are one of the few nights where he 'cuddles' and honestly it's less cuddling and more 'oops I feel asleep and ended up on someone's shoulder or lap. Whether or not he falls asleep depends on if he's fighting with Bruce or not. If he and Bruce are fighting Jason won't feel comfortable enough to fall asleep (he might even skip movie night), but if they're on good terms he might doze off.

Cass:

Genres— Fantasy, Comedy, Sci-Fi, Horror

Favorite Movies— The Big Sick, The Thing, A Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Tangled

Cass mainly knows about movies from her movie nights with Tim, Babs, and Steph, so her tastes have developed based on theirs.

She and Tim frequently watch old B Horror movies together, every once in a while one will quietly sing "Attack of the Killer Tomatoes" to the other and they immediately burst out laughing. This is most commonly done at galas.

Tim bought her a sweatshirt with a "horror movie periodic table" on it and she wears it almost constantly.

Tim:

Genres— Fantasy, Classic Horror

Favorite Movies— Lord of the Rings, The Exorcist, The Thing, Stardust

Tim absolutely adores fantasy movies, he's a huge nerd and definitely uses fantasy movies to help him plan his next DnD campaign.

While Tim adores fantasy movies he's more likely to watch movies from his second favorite genre— Classic Horror.

Him, Cass, Steph, and Babs love having movie nights together because they're all major nerds and tend to like a lot of the same movies.

Steph:

Genres— Comedy, Anything Cass recommends

Favorites— Monty Python and the Holy Grail, The Big Sick, Palm Springs

Steph is much more outspoken than Tim, Babs, or Jason. This is part of the reason why she is one of the more polarizing siblings on movie night. If she doesn't want to watch something she will let you know.

She can making picking a movie difficult, but every other aspect of movie night is improved by Steph. She gets fun snacks, fuzzy blankets, cool sodas, and she even made them all shirts when they did a Lord of the Rings marathon.

When watching a movie Steph will quietly mimic lines or noises that she likes. She never notices but she does it during every movie. Like during Monty Python she'll whisper 'clip clop, clip clop' when they bang the coconuts together.

Duke:

Genres— Documentary, Mockumentary

Favorites— Darkest Knight: The Truth Behind Gotham's Hero, The Keene Act, America's Most Dangerous City: Gotham, What We Do in the Shadows

Duke loves watching documentaries on Batman just to see how off they are. No one argues when he suggests them for movie nights.

One time he, Jason, and Tim made a 'documentary' about Batman. It looks completely serious to anyone who doesn't know Batman's secret identity.

After making the Batman documentary he decided to make some more on random Gotham villians. He's made about six and all look completely serious to anyone who doesn't know the villian.

In his documentary titled "Riddle Me This" he said that the Riddler gained riddle themed powers after a tragic accident at a riddle book factory. Edward did not appreciate this.

Damian:

Genres— Action, Survival, Documentary

Favorites— John Wick, Riddle Me This, The Keene Act, Jungle, High School Musical

Damian is the absolute worst to watch action movies with, he spends the entire time ripping the movie apart and mocking anything that is even remotely unrealistic.

He and Duke will often talk about their favorite documentaries, he's even started helping Duke make documentaries. Right now they're working on one about the League of Assassins, Tim watched the first cut and almost pissed himself from laughing so hard.

Jon showed him High School Musical and Damian pretended to hate it but secretly he doesn't mind it. Obviously Jon knows this so he showed Damian the entire series, and now it's sort of become their thing.

Bruce:

Genres— Whatever the fuck his kids agree on

Favorites— Please for the love of god let his kids pick a movie

Bruce is tired and just wants to watch a goddamn movie

As always these are all headcannons and have little to no cannonical support. Also all of Dukes movies (except the last one) are documentaries I imagine would exist in the DC universe.

#batfam #headcannons #bruce wayne #batman #nightwing #dick grayson #jason todd #red hood #barbara gordon #oracle #cassandra cain #black bat #tim drake #red robin #stephanie brown #spoiler #batgirl #duke thomas #the signal #damian wayne #robin #favorite movies #mypost #ask

[i-cant-sing]

Please yandere v! All might or aizawa as a spooky Christmas ghost?

Christmas Nightmare: Yandere! Ghost Shouta Aizawa

Hey there! Thank you so much for requesting! I had fun writing this. Hope you guys like it! :)

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Yandere! Ghost Shouta Aizawa:

It was 2 days before Christmas. You were on your way home from Home Depot. You had gotten your Christmas tree and decorations. And since you decided to buy it so late, you had to drive out of city to get the tree as those in the city were all sold out. But hey, at least you got a good deal!

Since it was a long drive back home, you had decided to do your grocery shopping too. As you were driving, munching on some chips, you noticed it had started snowing. The snow was covering the trees that were on either side of the road. It was getting dark, and only the lights from your car were illuminating the road.

Of course your old car had to break down. And that too in the middle of nowhere, where there was no cell service either. And you don't remember seeing any cars on your way either. As you were trying to get a signal, you almost didn't see the wooden cabin that was a bit hidden by the trees.

Now you've watched tons of horror movies to know that you should not go there. But it was getting cold, and now you could either die by hypothermia, or you could go there and hope that there is not a serial killer inside.

You chose the latter option. You went to the cabin and knocked a few times. When no one answered, you pushed the heavy wooden door open. In the dark, your hands looked for a light switch. When you found one and switched it on, you looked around the cabin. You appeared to be standing in the living room, there was little furniture, dust had accumulated everywhere. You found the fireplace and fortunately there was still some wooden logs and a matchbox there. You lit the fireplace up and decided to look around. You were surprised to see that the cabin was actually quite big. And it looked like it used to be inhabited by a family; you found some furniture, a few toys and some other stuff. It looked like that the cabin had been abandoned for a quite some time. You looked in the kitchen to see if there was anything to eat, but you found nothing. It was a good idea that you had some snacks to get you to get you by.

You went back to the living room, sitting near the fire. As you were warming up, you looked out the window. It was snowing heavily now. You took your phone out and to your surprise you found a single service bar. You called for help, but the signal kept breaking up, and they managed to tell you that they wouldn't be able to get there as it was snowing too hard; the roads were blocked. Plus, it was Christmas time, nobody is going to want to help you now anyways. You hoped that help or anyone would drive by in the morning.

As you were lost in your thoughts, you heard the sound of someone walking. Heavy footsteps. There's someone inside the cabin.

You sat frozen, waiting for the serial killer to come. However, a few more minutes passed, but no one appeared. Curious, you decided to see who was there. You hoped it would be an animal. But after you had searched the entire cabin, you found no one. Neither an animal, nor a person.

Hm, maybe its a ghost. You thought to yourself. But I should've been able to see one due to my quirk.

Your quirk: Dead Eye, helped you see the dead. You had seen a lot of ghosts, most of them were harmless, and the bad ones usually just wanted to be left alone. That's why you weren't scared of ghosts anymore. People are far scarier really.

Maybe this ghost was just passing by. Or maybe your mind's just playing tricks on you. You were getting tired, so you decided to sleep on the old couch near the fireplace. The warmth lulled you to sleep, not knowing that someone was watching you.

When you woke up the next morning, the fire was almost dying out. You checked your phone a signal, call, message, anything. You looked outside the window, there was snow everywhere. You couldn't even see the road. It didn't look like you were getting out of here today. Or tomorrow. No one is gonna come on Christmas to help you. Which meant you were going to spend Christmas here in the cabin, alone.

Deciding to make the best out of your situation, you got the tree and the decorations out of your car. After you had brought the tree inside, you went to look for some cleaning supplies and cleaned the place up a bit. Once you had done that, you decorated the tree up. You kept on checking if someone was driving by or if you got some service, but you unfortunately didn't. As you were making yourself some dinner, you heard footsteps again. You also heard a door open and shut. And you felt someone creeping up on you. You whipped around and you finally saw the culprit.

"Do you need something?" you asked the pale man with red eyes and black hair. He looked a bit surprised hearing your question. "Well?" you pushed, your own heart pounding. "You can see me?"he asked, confused. "Oh you're a ghost! Yeah, I can see the dead due to my quirk." The man was even more surprised as you introduced yourself to him, not scared at all. "I'm...Aizawa. What are you doing here?" You explained your situation to him, and how you'll be out of his hair the day after Christmas hopefully. You both apologised and thanked him for letting you into his home.

The more you talked the more Aizawa felt happy? It had been so long since he had any sort of conversation, even though it was mostly you talking. It had been too long since he felt happy.

Aizawa apologised too for trying to scare you. He just wanted to be alone, no meddling humans to disturb him from his sleep.

You both kept on talking, you telling some stories and just rambling on, Aizawa just humming and sometimes gave a small smile. You're so adorable. So nice. And warm too.

He loved how you cleaned up his place and decorated the tree. He remembered the good times back when he was alive. And even though he was a villian, he still remembers the cozy days of Christmas he used to spend with his family. Family. The family the betrayed him. The same family he used to do break the law for. The same family that went to the cops to tell on him when they found out what he had been doing to provide for them.

Of course he killed them. He did not regret it one bit. What he did regret though was killing himself after that, thinking that he'd never be able to find love again. When in reality, he was looking right at it. You. Its you. You'll be his love again.

When you woke up on Christmas morning, you went to check your phone but you couldn't find it. You were sure you had it on you. As you were looking around, Aizawa came and wished you a Merry Christmas. You smiled and wished him as well.

Aizawa had brought you some eggs from a nearby bird's nest. You didn't want be rude, so you made them and had your breakfast. You made some small talk, telling him about the world, how advance it has become. But he was really just interested in your life. What do you do for a living? What are your hobbies? How many people know that you're here?

His questions were weird. But you thought that he's just an old ghost, and also has no company; he's just bored.

You were still talking when you heard the sound of a car. You whipped your head to the window and saw a car slowly driving by. Finally. You thought. I'm getting out of here now.

As you went towards the door, hoping that the driver will see you and help you, you suddenly felt something hit your head before you blacked out.

When you woke up, you found yourself in of the bedrooms. Few rays of the moonlight were escaping the boarded window, indicating it was night time. What happened? As events of the morning came rushing back to you, you realised you were in grave danger. You tried to open the door, but it wouldn't budge even though there was no lock.

Suddenly, you were thrown to the bed, the mattress squeaking under you. Aizawa stood at the foot of the bed, his red eyes glowing in the dark. You tried to get of the bed, but it was like something was holding you down. You looked at him bewildered.

Aizawa started to explain "I've become attached to you. No. I've fallen in love with you. I know you're not in love with me right now but you will be." He walked towards you "you don't need to worry. I'll figure out a way for us to be together when I kill you. Then we can live here happily ever after." He stroked your hair. You went to kick him but he caught your leg in a tight, painful grip. He gripped your chin and forced you to look at him. "Now, now. Don't do something you'll regret. You don't wanna be on the naughty list now, do you?"

Hope you guys liked this one! Requests are still open! :)

#yandere aizawa #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere aizawa shouta #yandere aizawa x reader #yandere bnha #yandere mha #bnha imagines #bnha headcanons #yandere #yandere christmas #yandere bnha x reader #mha aizawa #aizawa x reader #aizawa x y/n #shouta aizawa #villian aizawa #yandere eraserhead

[omgjasminesimone]

The Moments in Between

Dakota x MC

Word Count: ~3,800

A/N: Accompanies my fic Life Goes On, set in the missing ten years.

High School Graduation

Dakota tears his eyes away from the view outside his hospital window when he hears the distinctive sound of Sage’s favorite high heels approaching his door.

He smiles when he gets his first glimpse of her in her graduation regalia. “Wow Teach, you look great. Congratulations, graduate.” This is also his first time seeing her new hair extensions. Now that his hair is starting to grow back, Sage is back to her usual hairstyle.

Sage smiles, bounding her way over to his bed and tucking herself under his arm. “Congratulations to you too, Dakota. I have your diploma.” She reaches for her bag that she’s dropped on the floor, pulling out his framed diploma and handing it over reverently.

“Can’t believe I’m a high school graduate now.” Dakota reveals, reading the diploma closely. He assumes had he been well enough to attend the graduation ceremony, it would have felt more real.

“There are very few people who could complete all their senior year assignments and exams while fighting cancer. I’m so proud of you Dakota.” Sage praises, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I’m proud of you. It’s incredible how you managed school and my cancer.” Dakota insists.

Sage shrugs, nuzzling into his neck. “It was no biggie. I had a very cozy seat on the sideline.” She quips.

Dakota frowns, tearing his eyes away from his diploma to look at his girlfriend. “You know I didn’t mean that. I would never have gotten through this without you, Sage.”

Sage smiles, placing a sweet peck to his lips. “I know. I just like to bring that up every so often so you’ll tell me how much you love me.”

Dakota chuckles, shaking his head fondly. “I love you a lot, Sage.”

“I love you too Dakota.” She gives him another kiss, gently taking his diploma from him to place on the side table. “I missed you today. I’m sorry you had to miss your graduation.” Sage laments.

“I was hoping to be out of here by today, but it’s okay. The transplant almost failing really put things in perspective. I’m just grateful to be alive. Universe willing, hopefully I’ll get to attend college graduation.”

“You will. I know it. You’re a fighter Dakota.”

“You give me something to fight for, Teach.”

...

Discharged

Dakota can’t miss the arrival of his friends and girlfriend as they loudly come down the Edenbrook hallway, arguing the whole way.

“I can’t believe you like Alec. God, he’s the absolute worst. I can’t wait for him to get voted off Survivor.” Lennox insists.

“I love Alec! And I don’t think he’s a suck up, he’s just friendly.” Mateo insists.

“No, the friendly thing is totally an act Mateo. But I do respect Alec’s game. The point is to outwit and outplay.” Sage counters as the group enters Dakota’s room.

Sage’s whole face lights up when she spots Dakota, in his normal clothes instead of a hospital gown. She practically flies across the room, launching herself into his arms. “Happy discharge day!” She exclaims.

Dakota laughs, hugging her back tightly and giving her a quick kiss. Even though he purposely kept it chaste, Lennox pretends to gag anyway. “Thanks for coming guys. But Teach, don’t you have midterms?”

“Like we’d miss this! Dakota Winchester, finally getting out of Edenbrook. It’s like my baby bird finally leaving the nest.” Mateo teases.

Sage nods in agreement with Mateo. “Nothing could have kept me from being here today. And my professors were all very understanding. They’re letting me take make up exams this weekend.”

“You guys are the best.” Dakota insists, turning back to the bag he was packing before his friends arrived.

“Where are your parents?” Lennox asks, taking a seat on Dakota’s bed.

“Dropping off gift baskets for all the doctors who kept me alive. They really went all out on the one for your mom, Sage. Almost like it’s a...dowry or something.” Dakota reveals.

“Your parents must know that I’d happily marry their Kody, no dowry needed.” Sage quips.

“Aww.” Mateo says at the same time Lennox gripes “Ugh.”

“Good to know.” Dakota returns, winking at Sage. He zips up his bag, and looks around the room. “I think that’s everything.”

Sage slips her hand into his. “Ready to get out of here?”

Dakota squeezes her hand. “Very ready.”

A group of hospital staff are waiting just outside his room to wish him farewell.

“Do I get to ring the discharge bell?” Dakota asks his oncologist after saying his goodbyes.

“That’s usually just a thing for the kids, Dakota.” The doctor informs him.

“What?! But I was really looking forward to it! Plus, you know I’m a child at heart.” Dakota counters.

“....fine.” The oncologist gives in easily.

Dakota grins widely, squeezing Sage’s hand in excitement.

“I think I’ve got a new nickname for you, man child.” Lennox suggests.

“Nothing you say can ruin this for me, Len.” Dakota retorts as he happily makes his way over to the bell. He hands Sage his phone. “Can you record this for me, beautiful?”

Sage nods, stepping back to get him in frame. “Say, cancer free!” Sage chimes.

“Cancer free!” Dakota parrots, vigorously ringing the discharge bell.

...

College Visits

“And this is the quad! My favorite spot on campus.” Sage informs him, leading him by the hand through the Massachusetts State campus.

Dakota is recording on his phone, like always, so Sage does a little twirl for him under a cherry blossom tree. “Beautiful.” Dakota says, and Sage can’t be sure if he means the campus, or herself.

He’s trying to hide that he’s a little out of breath, but Sage can read him like a book. “I’ve made you walk too much. Here, let’s take a seat. How are you feeling?” Sage asks as she leads Dakota over to a bench.

She looks guilty, so he gives her his most reassuring smile. “I’m fine, Teach. I’ve been feeling good, and all my lab results have been good lately. My doctors think I should be able to start college in the Fall, as planned.” He’s cautiously optimistic that he won’t relapse. He’s still a little tired, and weak, but not like before he got the news his Cancer was back. Once he’s done with his 3-4 times a week outpatient visits to Edenbrook, it will be like he’s a normal young adult again. 

Sage nods, swinging her legs over his lap as she rests her head on his shoulder. “That’s so good to hear, I know how excited you are for film school. Although I’m really going to miss you when you’re further than a car ride away. But, on the bright side, I can come out to visit you in LA when the Boston weather gets completely miserable.”

“Actually Sage, I’ve been thinking about it. And moving all the way across the country from my support system and my doctors might not be the best plan right now.”

Sage frowns, looking up at him. “But your dream school is in LA.”

“You’re my dream Sage. And there are plenty of great film schools in New York. And New York is just a 4 hour bus ride away.”

“And you’re sure that’s what you want?” Sage asks, trying not to give away just how much she would love to have him closer for the next 4 years.

“Cross my heart.” Dakota lets out a little ‘hmph’ when Sage hugs him so tightly he can barely breathe. She immediately loosens her excited hold.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I love you Sage.”

“I love you too.” She seals her words with a passionate kiss, that leaves him more out of breath than all that walking earlier.

But it’s worth it.

...

New York City

Sage enters their small studio apartment, located in one of the seedier parts of Brooklyn since that’s all they can afford on her salary, with a loud sigh. “I hate my boss.” She complains to Dakota.

He turns away from whatever he’s editing to look at her. “Another bad day?”

Sage nods miserably, and Dakota pats his lap. Sage crosses the small room in just a few steps, parking herself sideways on her boyfriend’s lap. She makes herself cozy, loosely wrapping her arms around his waist. She glances at the computer screen as he drops a kiss to the top of her head. “Is this your final project you refuse to show me?”

Still images of Edenbrook flood the editing software. “Yeah. I filmed a lot when I was sick. When Mateo was sick. To keep myself busy. Some of the clips were really compelling. So now, my final project is a documentary about Edenbrook.”

“You’re branching out from ghost movies?” Dakota’s previous school projects have all been horror films.

“In a way, it’s still a ghost movie. Gracie is heavily featured, and other friends I lost.” Dakota reveals.

“Will you play me a Gracie clip?” Sage asks tentatively, not sure she can even handle it.

Dakota drags his mouse back until Gracie’s face fills the screen, pressing play.

Dakota ends up letting her watch the entire 40 minute film. Tears are welling in Sage’s eyes by the end. “That was absolutely beautiful Dakota. Sad, but definitely compelling.”

“Thanks. It felt good to make it. Cathartic.” Dakota reveals.

Sage’s eyes skim through the open ‘Edenbrook’ folder on his computer, stopping on a sub folder labeled ‘goodbyes’. “What are those?” Sage wonders aloud.

Dakota looks where’s she pointing, flushing a little. “Oh, those. After the transplant, when I wasn’t feeling the greatest, I recorded goodbye videos for the people I care about most. To send out, you know, if I was gone.”

Sage turns to face him. “Can I watch mine?”

“Sure, if you want to.” Dakota pulls it up, and then attempts to slide Sage off his lap so he can get up. But she shakes her head.

“I’m only going to be able to watch this right here in your arms.” She insists.

Dakota leans back into the office chair, wrapping his arms around her from behind. “Okay.” He presses play.

Sage starts crying almost immediately. Dakota plants soft kisses across her shoulder as she watches, to remind her that he’s here. That he’s fine, and cancer free for almost 4 years now.

Tears are streaming down her face by the end, and she turns around in his lap to press her face into his chest. “Hey, hey, don’t cry Teach.” Dakota pleads, gripping her chin gently and using his thumb to brush tears away from her lash line.

“I can’t believe I almost lost you. I can’t imagine doing life without you Dakota. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Sage. More than you could ever know.” This wasn’t how he was planning to do this, but as he stares into her beautiful, watery eyes, he feels like now is the perfect time. “Want to watch something happy now?”

Sage laughs, wiping at her eyes as she nods. This time, she allows him to slide her off his lap, and he goes to his backpack to pull out a flash drive that he plugs into the computer. When the folder opens, he clicks the video named ‘For Sage’ and presses play.

Sage smiles as the first image comes up, the clip Dakota filmed of her at their high school when they first met. The video continues with clips from the carnival, from hospital dates, from post hospital dates, in Boston, in LA, in New York. There are many clips of her she was unaware he was even filming, doing mundane things no one else would even think to film. It’s all weaved together so beautifully, it tells a story. Their story.

The soundtrack and clips stop suddenly, and cuts to Dakota on the Brooklyn bridge. “Lennox, you’re filming vertically!” On screen Dakota complains, prompting a chuckle from Sage as she watches.

“Don’t forget I’m doing you a favor, man child.” Lennox retorts, but then she repositions the camera horizontally like Dakota wanted.

“Thank you.” On screen Dakota adds. He clears his throat, looking sincerely into the camera. “Sage Woods, I’ve been hopelessly in love with you from the day we met. You’ve stood by me through lows and highs, mostly lows though because you’re an angel, and everyday I’m reminded how lucky I am to be able to call you my girlfriend. But, I’d be even luckier to be able to call you my wife.”

“That’s so cheesy.” Lennox complains from behind the camera.

“Len, come on. I’m gonna have to edit all this out!” Dakota complains on screen before dropping to one knee.

That’s where the video ends, and when Sage quickly turns her wide eyes to Dakota beside her, he’s on one knee with a diamond ring. “I hadn’t gotten around to editing the Brooklyn Bridge footage yet, but-“

“Yes!” Sage exclaims, dropping to her knees beside him and capturing his lips in a fierce kiss.

“I didn’t.... get to ....finish asking.” Dakota murmurs between greedy kisses.

“The answer is still yes.” Sage beams at him when he places the diamond ring on her finger.

God damn, he’s so lucky. 

...

College Graduation

As Dakota sits at graduation waiting for his name to be called, he’s starting to realize missing high school graduation might have been a blessing in disguise. He’s never been so bored.

But when they finally get to the W’s, and the film school Dean calls out ‘Dakota Winchester!’, his parents, Mateo, Lennox, and his stunning fiancé let out the loudest cheers of the entire afternoon, which makes the ceremony endlessly more entertaining.

...

Wedding

“Kody, if you keep drumming your fingers like that, you’re going to put a dent in my table.” His mother playfully complains.

Dakota stops the incessant drumming. “Sorry, I’m just...missing her more than I thought I would.” He admits.

His dad smiles, shaking his head fondly. “It was your bright idea to spend the night before the wedding apart.” He reminds him.

“It’s bad luck for me to see Sage before the wedding!” Dakota insists, to make himself feel less foolish about sleeping alone in his childhood bed tonight.

“Why don’t you call her?” His mother suggests.

“We said we wouldn’t. Hearing her voice would just make me want to drive over to her mom’s house and see her more.” Dakota reveals.

“Well Kody, it’s just 17 more hours until the wedding. After that full month of no contact in the ICU, I think you guys can do it.” His dad adds.

That reminder of the worst month of his life does make Dakota think he can get through just 17 more hours. He nods resolutely as he stares down at the table, internally giving himself a pep talk to avoid reaching for his phone.

 When he finally looks up again, both of his parents have the goofiest grins on. “What?” Dakota asks warily.

His parents share a look before turning back to him. “We’re just...so happy for you Kody. When the doctors told us you wouldn’t make it past 9, we could only think about all the things you wouldn’t get to do. We thought you’d never go to high school, never graduate from college, never have a job, never get married.....” his mom trails off, tears falling down her face.

“Mom, don’t cry.” Dakota pleads, leaning across the table so he can take her hands in his.

“They’re happy tears, Kody. It’s just been such a privilege to get to watch you grow into such a fine young man.” She concludes, standing from the table so she can hug him. His dad gets in on the action too, engulfing both in a warm group hug.

“The three of us are so proud of you Kody.” His dad adds, ruffling his hair affectionately.

“....thanks guys.” Dakota eventually settles on, unable to truly express how grateful he is.

The hours crawl by until it’s finally his wedding day. He’s more nervous than he expected he’d be as he stands at the altar.

“Psst...man child. You’ve got to calm down before you sweat stain your pits.” Lennox whispers from just behind him.

“And this is why Dakota made me the best man instead of you, Len.” Mateo taunts. He places a reassuring hand on Dakota’s shoulder. “No need to be nervous, Dakota. I’m pretty sure Sage wouldn’t leave you at the altar.”

As if in reaction to Mateo’s words, the wedding march starts.

Sage turns the corner, being walked down the aisle by her mother, and Dakota stops breathing for several moments.

She’s so beautiful, and he can’t believe his luck that in a few short moments, he can call her his wife. She smiles at him through her veil, and he smiles back through watery eyes.

...

Video Message

Dakota fiddles with the self timer on his phone, making sure to get Sage, and the London Bridge behind her, focused and in frame. Once he’s satisfied, he leaves the phone where it’s propped up against a building and makes his way over to Sage, wrapping an arm around her waist.

She grins up at him. “Ready?”

“Very ready.” He assures, giving her a little squeeze.

Sage turns back to the camera. “Hi guys! We really wanted to do this in person, but since there’s 4 months left on my London project, we thought video message was the next best thing.”

She turns to her husband. “You can say it.” She informs him with a warm grin.

“Sage is pregnant.” Dakota says into the camera, his smile so big it kind of hurts his cheeks a little.

“We’re pregnant!” Sage chimes, pressing a quick kiss to the side of Dakota’s upturned lips. “It’s still really early so we probably shouldn’t even be saying anything yet-“

“6 weeks.” Dakota interjects.

“But I just really couldn’t keep this news from the people we love most. We don’t know if it’s a boy or girl yet, maybe we can do a zoom gender reveal or something, but either way the baby’s name is going to be Dakota.” Sage explains.

Dakota smiles, dropping a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.” He whispers, low enough so the camera can’t pick it up.

“I love you too.” Sage returns, eyes shining with merriment.

Dakota looks back into the camera. “Alright, so that’s our big news. Can’t wait to see everyone when we’re back in the States. We love you guys.” After Dakota concludes, he makes his way over to the camera, turning it off.

“Are you sending it?” Sage asks, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Just editing out some of the dead space at the beginning and the end first. And maybe adding some underlying music.”

Sage shakes her head, albeit fondly. “Do you ever stop working?” She teases.

“Doesn’t feel like work when you love it.” Dakota insists. “And now....done! Sending it off now.”

Dakota wraps his arms around Sage as she leans back into his embrace. They both gaze out at the London landscape.

It can’t be more than three minutes before Sage’s phone rings. She grins at Dakota. “It’s your parents. Oh, and my mom too on the other line. Let me see if I can do a 3 way call....”

While Sage is fiddling with that, Dakota’s phone starts ringing. He glances at the contact info. “And that’s Len and Mateo.” He informs Sage before answering. “Hey guys.”

He smiles as he’s bombarded with congratulations. He looks towards his wife, who’s gesturing excitedly as she talks to their parents. He reaches for her hand, pulling her into his arms.

He can’t believe how lucky he is.

...

Heart to Heart

“Why are you filming this?” Sage complains, trying to cover her makeup less face. She feels like death, and assumes she must look it too.

“In case I ever need footage of a beautiful woman growing another human being.” Dakota quips, continuing to zoom in on her belly.

“This footage would be more appropriate for a horror movie about a woman having her skin stretched grotesquely.” Sage counters.

Dakota frowns, lifting her shirt to expose her belly and the many new stretch marks marring her skin. “There’s nothing grotesque about any of this, Teach. You’re beautiful, and miraculous.” He insists, planting kisses all over her skin.

“And you’re sweet, but also a liar.” Sage replies, running her fingers through his hair as he starts to murmur sweet nothings to their son.

“I’m gonna miss this belly when baby Dakota shows up in the next few days.” Dakota insists.

“Well, that makes one of us.” Sage retorts.

“You say that now, but once you hold him? See his adorable little face? You’re gonna want another one immediately.” Dakota theorizes.

“Doubt it. I think Dakota here is gonna be an only child. I never want to be pregnant again.” Sage insists.

“He has to have siblings.” Dakota counters.

“Why? We’re both only children. We turned out okay.” Sage defends.

“What if he needs a kidney? Or a bone marrow transplant?” Dakota asks softly, gently rubbing Sage’s belly.

Sage rises up on her elbows so she can look down at her husband. “Babe, are you worried about the baby getting sick?”

“Isn’t that something all parents worry about?”

“Not to the point of planning future spare part babies.” Sage argues.

“That’s not fair.” Dakota counters.

“And it’s not fair what you had to go through as a child, Dakota. And it’s obviously something that’s gonna stay with you. But leukemia isn’t hereditary, babe. You don’t need to worry about passing on defective genes to our baby.” Sage attempts to comfort.

“You don’t know that.” Dakota laments. “I could have more defective genes than just leukemia.”

Sage struggles to force herself into a seated position, and noticing her struggle, Dakota helps her get herself upright.

She slips her hand into his, weaving their fingers together. “Dakota, there’s nothing wrong with this baby-“

“You can’t know-“ Dakota starts to interject, but Sage raises a hand to silence him.

“And if there is something wrong with this baby, that’s something we’ll get through, together.” She squeezes his fingers comfortingly. “Okay?”

“Okay.” He reluctantly agrees after a beat. But then he quickly adds. “But I still want more than one child.”

“We can talk about that after I get this baby out of me.” Sage tries to cut off that subject. 

“Hmm...that sounds like a polite no. But I’m not done with this subject. The world needs more Sage Woods-Winchester in it. At least 3 mini yous.” Dakota insists, his smile growing when Sage can’t help but chuckle. 

“That’s easy for you to say, from your comfy seat on the sideline.” Sage teases. 

Dakota raises a hand to his heart, mock wounded. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Probably not.”

“....Guess I should have died of Cancer when I had the chance.”

“.....That’s not funny Dakota.”

“...It’s a little funny.” Dakota insists, and then he leans forward to kiss Sage’s downturned lips until she’s smiling again.

...

..

A/N: Still wasn’t over With Every Heartbeat, so I had to write this out too. Now I feel better. :)

tags: @shewillreadyou @dakotasteach

#with every heartbeat #dakota x mc #dakota winchester #choices fanfiction #weh

[btsmosphere]

Sparkle | JJK

~summary:

Jungkook may have been planning a little something... a powercut is only a small barrier

Jungkook x female!reader

~word count: 2.5k

~roommates au, friends to lovers, getting together, fluff

Rating: g

Warnings: irresponsible milk drinking(?), tons of fluff

~a/n: so I am taking part in a bingo writing challenge with @btsholidaybingo​ and this is the first of my bingo squares: ‘xmas lights’!! It’s a really fun challenge and I am working on a lot more to come!

At this time of night, when it’s not really night but it’s too dark to still be day, you can enjoy the Christmas lights. From your window, it feels as if you can see the whole city – your house is right at the top of the hill.

Right now, when you can turn your own light off and admire the multicoloured constellations sprawled across the valley, it’s nice. However, when you go to bed it’s a different story. In the darkness of your room at night, it’s all too easy for the festive glow to sneak around your curtains and keep you awake.

Jungkook’s cooking at the moment, so you don’t want to go out and see what kind of horrors are going on in your kitchen.

At least it means he’s taken his music with him. That’s the thing about Jungkook: he’s always surrounded by music. And really, you don’t mind it. In fact, it’s something you’ve come to love. It’s reassuring, knowing another living person is just next door even if you’re snowed under with work and haven’t seen him all day.

And if you haven’t seen Jungkook, it is a bad day indeed.

But at this time of night, when it’s not really night but it’s too dark to still be day, you will take the peace and enjoy the Christmas lights.

Blinking, you realise you zoned out. The lights were floating in your unfocussed vision, but you soon pulled your attention back in. Sweeping your eyes once more over the cityscape, you noticed a darker section.

Then another patch of lights blinked off.

Vaguely, your memory reminded you that was what had jerked you to attention a moment ago. Lights cutting out. It felt like they should merely flicker, and you watched, feeling as if you were in mid-air, waiting for the inevitable moment of meeting the ground again.

But instead, a whole new square of the city fell into darkness.

And then, suddenly, you were blinking, eyes protesting at the newfound dark you had been submerged in. You were frozen, for a second.

Then you whipped around, as if you would find something coming up behind you. Nonsense, really. Your room had already been in darkness to let you watch the lights.

Walking across the space with nothing but muscle memory, your hand stretched out, hesitantly groping for the light switch. When your fingers stumbled across it, you flicked it.

Nothing.

With a sigh, you flipped the switch back off and stuck your head from your bedroom door.

“Kook?”

Your voice came softer than you expected, probably not reaching down the hall. Just as you cleared your throat, the concerning sound of something clattering to the floor interrupted you.

Eyebrows shooting up, you went straight to investigate.

“Kook!” you called into the dark kitchen. As you squinted, you could make out a human-sized shape on the floor, “Are you okay?”

“I think the power went out,” his voice returned.

Though you rolled your eyes, a smile sprung irresistibly to your face.

“Yeah, I had noticed,” you chuckled, “do you need some help-?”

Stepping into the space, it seems your calculations were off. Jungkook was a lot closer than you had expected and your leg hit him, tripping you up. But before you could topple over, Kook’s hands materialised at your hips, pushing you upright again.

“Woah, hey,” he laughed breathlessly, “careful.”

Clambering up from his knees to stand in front of you, you could hear the charming smile he was flashing at you rather than see it. Flustered, you stepped back and away from his hold. For a moment longer, he seemed to forget himself before he dived back down to retrieve the bowl he had dropped.

“Right, well, er,” you struggled to collect your thoughts, “don’t open the fridge until the power comes back. Do we have any candles, or anything-“

“Wait, Y/N, I just started cooking! I need to put everything back in the fridge. What if I open it really fast?”

“I don’t know…” you admitted.

Standing side by side in the dark, staring at the fridge for some sort of answer, you never felt more like a student. Which, of course, you were, but you hadn’t felt this clueless about something since the first time you did your own washing in first year.

“Well, I already cooked the bacon,” Jungkook said, “so it’s really just the milk and cheese.”

“I suppose you could risk opening the fridge,” you shrugged.

“Maybe…” he was chewing his lip. You knew he was.

Sighing, you spun on your heel and headed towards the door again.

“I’m going to go and see if we have any candles, or something.”

Back in your room, you rummaged blindly in your drawer for your phone. Often, as today, you stored it in there to avoid getting distracted by it when you had work to do.

Thankfully, it lit up, but boasted pitifully low charge. You just had to hope it would last long enough for you to find an alternative light source.

Pressing the button for the torch, you started at your wardrobe, wondering if you had any candles left over from birthday presents tucked away. None there, or in your desk or underneath your bed. Resurfacing from between the dusty boxes you kept under there, you slumped back against your bed.

Casting your eye fruitlessly around your room once more, you heaved yourself to your feet.

“Kook, can I go look in your room?” you called, walking back down to the kitchen.

Instead of a response, though, you were met with a spluttering sound. Entering the room, your torch illuminated Kook, hunched over with a milk bottle in one hand. His other was covering his mouth.

“What are you doing now?” you asked, incredulous.

Lifting his head, he coughed once more, sending a single drop of milk down his chin. His shirt was also spattered with it. Tilting you head, you raised your eyebrows.

“Please tell me you’re not chugging our milk.”

“You said not to open the fridge,” he mumbled weakly.

“Oh my god…” you sighed. Unfortunately, you couldn’t help the sudden burst of laughter that overtook you when he gave you full puppy-dog eyes.

“You’re a mess, Jeon Jungkook,” you smiled, “go and get another sweater.”

“This is the only one you haven’t stolen!” he protested.

Biting your lip, you looked bashfully down at the large black jumper you currently had on. Maybe he was right.

A second afterwards, your phone light drastically dimmed. There it stayed for a moment longer as you met Kook’s eyes, before you were both sent back into darkness.

“Ugh,” you groaned, “okay. You can have this jumper, but you need to take that one off. And then we need to find some lights.”

Knowing you were under the cover of darkness, you lifted Jungkook’s sweater over your head and held it out for him. Standing in only your bra and jeans, you noticed the effects of the heating being down.

“Kook,” you shook the jumper in what you hoped was his direction, “take it, come on. I’m cooold.”

“S-sorry,” he stammered, fabric soon leaving your hand.

Trekking back through the hallway, Kook following you this time, you parted ways to go into your respective rooms. You made your way to your wardrobe again with arms outstretched and felt around, picking the first jumper you came into contact with.

“Tada!”

The shout came as you had just put one arm into the sweater. Jumping around, you were met with a bundle of lights and a beaming Jungkook lit up behind them.

“Oh- sorry,” his eyes suddenly grew very round and he turned his back before you could blink.

Tugging the jumper on with haste, you cleared your throat.

“You found lights, then?”

“Yeah, um,” he looked tentatively over his shoulder to confirm it was safe before turning to face you again, “my mum sent up Christmas decorations, remember?”

“Oh! I didn’t realise,” you said, beaming nonetheless, “how come we haven’t put them up yet?”

“Uh, just didn’t have the time, I guess,” he replied as you scooped up a battery pack and began untangling the fairy lights attached to it.

While you worked, a cute frown making its way onto your face as you fought against the knotted wires, Jungkook just watched you through the mass of glowing lights. At last, you got the end free, your victory dance shaking him from his stupor.

“Do you know any card games?” you asked, draping the string of lights around your neck as you did so.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“That’s what people do in power cuts, right?” you brushed past him.

“Um… I guess it is,” Jungkook followed you through to the living room.

Making a start by placing your string of lights along the back of the big sofa, you waited for Jungkook to join in. He was being awfully quiet. After a few moments, he did get the idea and placed the whole luminescent bunch onto the middle sofa cushion, beginning work on your vision.

“God, how many of these are there?” you laughed dryly when you pulled out the third battery pack.

“No idea,” he grimaced, “I thought you liked Christmas lights anyway?”

“I do,” you conceded, “I think they’re working better than candles would have, too.”

Eventually, the two of you had cocooned your living space in the lights. The nest of space between your sofa, rug and chairs was bathed in the warm white light. Stepping back, you couldn’t help but smile.

It was still too quiet, though.

“Are you alright?” you asked quietly.

“Hmm? Yeah,” Jungkook spoke, standing to join you observing your hard work.

“You just seem quiet,” you mumbled.

As if to prove your point, Jungkook let silence elapse between you. But, like always with you two, it was comfortable.

“Cards?” he prompted after a while.

“Oh, yes,” you remembered, tearing your eyes from the scene in front of you to the boy at your side, “do we… own a pack of cards?”

Lips parting in thought, he tilted his head to one side.

“We don’t, do we?”

At the same time, you both grinned, laughing softly. The sight of his smile only served to make yours wider.

“Blankets?” he proposed instead.

You quickly agreed. On your return to the living room, you laughed out loud, finding Jungkook holding out a wine glass full of milk for you.

“I could grate some cheese for dinner but that’s just depressing,” he gave a small smile.

Laughing loudly, you made a show of swirling the milk around your cup and sniffing at it like the tasters on tv, before sipping it.

However, Jungkook’s laughter cut off as he sunk down beside you, his fingers fidgeting around the stalk of his own glass.

“Kook, what’s going on?” you gently elbowed him, “you’re so quiet.”

“I, er,” he freed a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, “how about some music?”

“Yeah, okay,” you frowned, “but, Kook, the power’s out-“

“Just wait here, okay?”

And then he was gone before you could protest, practically running from the room.

Was something seriously wrong? You knew you had been busy lately, but you always tried to make time to see your flatmate. In all honesty, he was the highlight of your day, and you had to stop yourself from fantasising about being more than friends…

But right now, you were worried. Right now, it seemed like he needed a friend, but since when had he started acting like this?

Before you could get up and follow him, though, you heard his footsteps returning. Not a moment later, he rounded the corner with a guitar in his hand. Definitely not what you had been expecting.

“I didn’t know you played guitar,” you said. It surprised you; for all that you could hear his music from your room, you would have thought you’d have heard if he had been playing the guitar.

“I’ve been learning,” he didn’t quite meet your eyes, shuffling his feet.

“Okay,” you spoke slowly.

While you waited, he walked forwards and sat on one of the chairs facing you.

Just before he began, he looked up. Somehow your heart melted at his big eyes, heart already in your mouth for some reason.

And then his face was lit up in profile again, soft glow highlighting his features. As you gazed at him, unable to look away, his fingers began to pick out a soft tune. For someone so modest, he was incredibly skilled. Watching and listening in awe, your heart nearly burst when he started singing too.

His voice, though he sang softly, clearly a little nervous, floored you. And the words… he was singing about love, about a beautiful girl that made him happy, a girl he wanted to stay happy.

In your head, you had the privilege of imagining that girl was you.

All too soon, the song came to a close.

Staring at him, you held your breath to the last second before he relaxed, lowering his hand and putting his guitar to one side.

“That was beautiful, Kook,” you breathed.

But instead of responding, he stood, taking your gaze with him as he crossed to sit beside you on the sofa. A small smile curved his lips, a ghost of a laugh falling between them.

“I had a whole night planned out,” he waved his hand, “I was making carbonara, and-and I had all these decorations waiting in my room, I know you love them…”

While he took a deep breath, yours was completely stuck in your throat.

“I’m sorry about the, uh, the milk,” he chuckled, “it’s not exactly romantic, but… I was wondering if you wanted to be my girlfriend?”

Finally having forced the words out, he looked nervously up at you with glistening eyes, no doubt thanks to your magical setup. He watched with that unwavering gaze as you tried desperately to form words in your head, simultaneously trying to process if you were in the real world at all.

“Please answer,” he whispered.

Until then you hadn’t noticed how impossibly close to each other you were. Until his words brushed against your lips.

Suddenly your brain caught up with itself, deciding this was real after all.

“O-of course,” you rushed out, tongue momentarily darting to your lips, “yes, yes!”

“Yes?” he repeated, eyes widening more, if that was possible, seeming in total disbelief.

With sudden bravery, you surged forwards, pressing your lips to his. Melting into the kiss, you felt his hands float up to your waist, hesitant at first until you kissed him harder, pulling him forwards with your hands fisted in the sweater you had recently given up.

Now he was kissing back with equal measures of hunger and tenderness, hands holding you firmly.

When you broke apart, exhilarated and reluctant to let each other go, you let your forehead fall against his.

“Yes.”

The grin he awarded you was brighter than all the lights around you. And later that night when the city burst into light again, barging past your curtains to interrupt your darkness, neither of you paid it any mind.

Hope you enjoyed! Please reblog if you did💜xx

@aianloveseven​ @preciouschimine​ 

Contact me to be tagged in new work!

#btsholidaybingo #thebtswritersclub #purplearmynet #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook roommate au #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook scenario #christmas jungkook #bts fluff #bts imagines #jk fluff #getting together #jeon jungkook humour #jungkook humour #jungkook comedy #bts scenarios

[okayto]

Magnus Archives Thoughts

Semi-liveblog, as I’m jotting these down as I go but only posting occasionally after the fact.

I got up through episode 97 before I stopped for a long time, so read through the transcripts to re-acquaint myself with everything that had happened up to this point. (as a note: transcripts, excellent. Also helpful if I start getting too creeped out.)

Under the cut (for spoilers), episodes 98-102

(I’m not promising DEEP thoughts, I just needed somewhere to jot things down in case I take another break, with or without meaning to)

Episode 98 (Lights Out): MAXWELL RAYNER, ALWAYS A CREEP.

Awww, Martin, you’re recording statements and it’s Doing Things to you. Poor baby.

Also, ever since rereading episode 80 (Jurgen Leitner’s statement, and Elias’s murder of him), every time Elias appears I just want to shout RAT BASTARD at him.

Episode 99 (Dust to Dust): Totally thought “Boise” being pronounced as “boys” was an error (which still would’ve worked fine for the character, not an issue), but it turns out that Boise City, Oklahoma does in fact pronounce it “boys.” (As opposed to the more well-known Boise, Idaho, which is pronounced “boy-see”.)

Makes sense, though I spent the entire episode thinking she was mispronouncing Boise, ID, and also wondering if the Dust Bowl really got that bad in Idaho.

More interesting: MICHAEL?!?! Michael was a

real person

???? I kinda like him as we’ve met him, thanks to his...y’know, lack of outright hostility and consistent murdery plots, but

MICHAEL????

OH NO WHAT HAPPENED.

I know I know it’s a horror podcast bad things happen I WANT GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN THOUGHT IT’S A PROBLEM

John. JOHN. oh no.

I am going to probably need so much Happy AU fanfic when this is over aren’t I.

Episode 100 (I Guess You Had to Be There): Oh. Ahahaha. Basira’s a decent interviewer, but I nearly choked on my tea when this guy was like “oh yeah so I’m in this mysterious spiral that appeared out of nowhere and looks very old and there’s an old man crying in the distance but then I realized I was late for dinner, so I left.” [Dumbfounded Basira aura in the background.]

Poor Brian :(

Peter Lukas you bastard. “Sent you to an alternate realm. Hope you didn’t work for the guy I’m going to see, he gets touchy about his people. You don’t? Great. Cheers!”

Episode 101 (Another Twist): The person voicing Nicola Orsinov is excellent at that uncanny brightness. And I’m enjoying Jonny Sims’s excellent muffled voice acting.

MICHAEL?!

MICHAEL STATEMENT!!!

Look, I know Gertrude Robinson wasn’t a nice person, but she was undeniably badass. Still, I feel very bad for Michael Skelley.

And I love Michael the Distortion. Top tier character. Interested in seeing what happens now with Helen, but I’ll miss Michael a lot.

Interesting that Michael has usually been pretty truthful, for the embodiment of something that’s just deceptive, huh? I don’t quite understand the ritual that Gertrude interrupted--the Distortion taking its own shape, embodied (but not as Michael), in the human world? A Distortion version of the Unknowing? I’m too afraid of spoilers if I look up more now, so I’ll have to wait. I do still have like half the series to go.

Episode 102 (Nesting Instinct): John vs. Rat Bastard. Rat Bastard’s all “telling you things would just be a crutch and--” CRUTCHES ARE HELPFUL TOOLS THAT HELP PEOPLE SURVIVE RAT BASTARD.

This show does keep making me laugh when I least expect it though.

ARCHIVIST I get, I get that you hate being here, Melanie, but do you really want to trade it for prison?

MELANIE No! But the way I see it, the police seem really keen not to investigate crimes committed here.

ELIAS That’s actually fair.

ARCHIVIST Shut up!

Rat Bastard: YouGotMeThere.meme

And like two seconds later,

John: Melanie, your desire to murder our boss is very, very understandable and rational but not a good idea right now, let’s talk about how to handle him later.

Elias: I am still here you know.

The acting when John finishes the statement. The starting and stopping to speak. The sheer weariness even as he still clearly freaked out by being able to read in a language he doesn’t speak. Fantastic.

Martin is also a good character. Wanna give him a hug.

#The Magnus Archives

[save-the-spiral]

PLS PLS LIST THE SWAPS!! TELL ME ABOUT THE SIBLINGS AND ALSO HIFUMI BECAUSE I LOVE HIM (IF YOU WANT!) I will also send more questions in the morning too, excited to see what you’ve been working on!!

OK OK OK !!!!! AHH! So, before assigning talents, I swapped the pools, so for the first game, I use the talents from the second game, and vis versa! For some i listed gender, sexuality, or neurodivergencies, though this isn’t all of them, and I haven’t developed them all to the same level!

This is SO long. I didn’t even bother mentioning things like my plans for the killing games. (I have DR1 planned out in full, but only parts of DR2 and the v3 anime)

THANK YOU FOR THE ASK MY HEART SKIPPED A BEAT IN HAPPINESS WHEN I SAW I HAD NEW ASK NOTIFS!!

LIST:

Trigger Happy Havoc (first game)

Kyoko Kirigiri- Ultimate Luckster- Mastermind (: Sometimes lesbians can be evil okay! was trained as a detective like everyone in her family and didn’t get the ultimate :) she’s definitely not mad about that :) her luck cycle depends on how far she plans things ahead. her good luck is when she’s spontaneous! She hates when ‘normal’ people are accepted by ultimates.

Makoto Naegi- Photographer (Mostly wildlife and nature photography, with Sayaka helping him for some animal photography (: trans and bi <3 One of sayaka’s birds nests in his hair like all the time)

Kiyotaka Ishimaru- Ultimate Swordsman (AUTISTIC ICON, has trained in kendo since he was a kid, then was essentially given away to the Fujisaki clan by his very stressed dad. Semiverbal, rarely speaks.)

Chihiro Fujisaki- Ultimate Yakuza (Taka is her bodyguard! His family is in debt to hers, the Fujisaki clan is the most powerful in Japan. trans icon, of course, dates Sayaka! Very direct, though she’s far more delicate and polite when talking to taka, her best friend)

Sakura Oogami- Ultimate Nurse (Works as an EMT- her clan still is in martial arts, so she’s still very buff, she assists in injuries at the family dojo. Autistic Icon)

Asahina Aoi- Ultimate Gamer (ULTIMATE ADHD. streams and has a ton of fun, will ramble while breaking records, demigirl who loves her girlfriend sakura :)

Mukuro Ikusaba- Ultimate Chef (Works best with ‘cheap’ food, and making them taste good. a byproduct of growing up on the streets with junko, and junko being bored of the same old food they dug out of the trash. now works closely with junko for her teams’ nutritional needs! autistic and sapphic.)

Junko Enoshima- Ultimate Team Manager (there are SO many sports she can never get bored, and the professional scene is always changing! prefers coaching womens’ teams, because being an ultimate brings them more publicity and usually higher pay :)

Mondo Oowada- Ultimate Prince (OH MY BOY. trans adhd icon. now the crown prince of Novoselic, with a reagent in his place until he comes of age. His service dog Chuck is a maltese and an absolute sweetheart. Chihiro takes him under her wing to teach leadership. also dates taka later OF COURSE, though they’re poly and I may add more ppl to their relationship later.)

Celestia Ludenburg- Ultimate Musician (specializes in violin, most strings, though she can play any instrument. grew up poor, dedicated herself to an instrument and persona to cope)

Byakuya Togami- Ultimate Musician (Yep. two musicians. two catty trans gay icons about to throw down. they HATE each other and grew up as rivals. specialize in classical, they literally tore a professional orchestra full of grown adults apart trying to make them side with who was the best musician. they’re so good that they’re matched, and Hope’s Peak accepts them as one student and combined ultimate. they room together. they fight. Literally if one of them gets expelled, the other does too, so they’re STUCK. eventually they become literally inseparable and insufferable together like the WORST siblings. I love them.)

Sayaka Maizono- Breeder (animal handler) (Specializes in birds!!!!!! has songbirds on her shoulders all the time. will give unsettling animal facts without realizing they’re unsettling. sends her songbirds to serenade chihiro when they start dating <3)

Yasuhiro Hagakure- Gymnast (you see this tall goof who acts like an older brother to everyone and wonder HOW he’s a gymnast. he’s completely different in competitions, though still lighthearted. becomes a big brother figure to mukuro and junko especially <3 also trans bc i say so.)

Leon Kuwata- Traditional Dancer (he just. kinda hates it. it takes SO much work and effort but he takes to it naturally. his cousin kanon is NOT like in canon, instead she’s helpful. he’d literally rather be doing anything else. doesn’t know how to do anything like... basic either. can’t cook. cant do his own laundry. everything was dedicated to traditional japanese dancing before he attended HPA.)

Toko Fukawa- Engineer (writes schematics and is very good at it. gets VERY upset when her plans go wrong. her notes are orderly and perfect. host for their system!)

Syo- Mechanic (a factive of genocider syo, NOT an actual killer. she’s a protector mainly, and also is more adept at hands on skills when it comes to fixing things, her hands are less shaky. Her notes are a disaster and she does it to spite Toko.)

Hifumi Yamada- (???) (reserve course) Protagonist! My BOY. HIFUMI IS GOOD OKAY. He’s autistic and loves anime and gaming! he’s not particularly ultimate-leveled at them, or anything else! Attending Hope’s Peak as a reserve course student! At one point he joins the student council as a reserve course representative even if he’s only a freshman :) He’s also a moderator in Hina’s livestream chat, under the username of JusticeHammer, fastest ban hammer this side of the internet. He's internet friends with hina and sakura, and doesn’t realize Oh We Go To the same SCHOOL until he bumps into them. and realizes hina doesnt know what he looks like. but sakura does. its hilarious. he’s aroace, and during the year they’re locked in HPA, is in a queer platonic partnership with Hina and Sakura, while they’re dating each other. it’s great.)

Goodbye Despair! (second game)

Peko Pekoyama- Lucky student (ohohoh. her luck relies on her conviction. if she has doubts her bad luck strikes HARD. trans!, was taken in by Fuyuhiko’s family when she was a baby, grew up as just another kid in the family. They all expected Fuyu to go off to HPA on his own and then BOOM acceptance letter)

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu- Programmer (He. gets so angry while coding. He has an array of rubber ducks to talk to and work through his coding issues with. trans of course. Very protective of Peko when people say she doesn’t have a ‘real’ ultimate. ADHD and Autistic)

Sonia Nevermind- Writer (Literary Girl) (Her family immigrated to Japan when she was young! She writes a lot of serial killer novels, murder mysteries and horror and all that! Trans and bi :)

Gundham Tanaka- Detective (YEAH my guy is a detective. still talks Like That. Trans and bi and he and Sonia were kinda-dating (t4t autistic power couple in the making) when things started happening. He spends some time with his cool older sister who he looks up to a LOT. He and Sonia talk through things together a lot, they both have those red string walls, one for murder cases, another for a fictional plot lmao.)

Mahiru Koizumi- Moral Compass (my GIRL. autistic. Her morals rely a lot on people taking responsibility and being reliable, and she ends up having to work through some biases she didn’t realize she had when she arrived at HPA. Is still protective of Hiyoko, though that protectiveness is spread a bit thinner to extend to the rest of the class.)

Hiyoko Saionji- Clairvoyant!!! (HI YES I COULD TALK ABOUT HER FOR DAYS. Has actual visions in dreams and when she suddenly faints, but doesn’t really realize they’re uhh Real Visions for a WHILE. uses her status as an ultimate clairvoyant to trick and bully kids when in school for a LONG time, though her homelife wasn’t great with her grandmother trying to find ways to make her visions more consistent. SHES ALSO 12 WHEN SHE JOINS THE 77TH CLASS. she’s just so advanced in academics and her ultimate is so interesting hope’s peak cant HELP but scout her early. she has SO many issues guys no one appreciates hiyoko enough, autistic gifted kid hiyoko my beloved.)

Akane Owari- Gambler (started gambling to help out her family and Got Good at it. is very very conscious of money and food like all the time. Runs the hope’s peak betting pools once she arrives. these ultimates bet on a lot of things. she ALWAYS wins. until she doesnt!!!)

Mikan Tsumiki- Martial Artist (ohhhh Mikan. Still anxious and clumsy (though not like THAT in canon) and literally no one looks at her and thinks Oh The ULTIMATE martial artist?? it isn’t until you see her in the ring that you understand. She started learning self defense as a kid because her (bad) parents essentially said she had to rely on and protect herself and no one else would help.)

Kazuichi Souda- Pop Idol (OH TRANS ICON? he’s nervous and paranoid about Everything still, though now it’s like. oh the entire world is always watching my every move this is Okay (: has the brightest neon album eras. he literally keeps up a like. weird chad persona when interacting with people because he’s masking how hard he’s constantly just internally screaming.)

Nagito Komaeda- Soldier (AHAHAH my mans got issues problems disorder he’s a messssss, this trans guy, this absolute gay. this boy leveled a city of thousands of people with his own hands and some bombs. Still has medical issues, but most of his like. treatments and medicine is hold hostage as long as he stays in line. believes the ends justify the means and anyone who dies to him is obviously weak, because look at him! he’s weak, but that doesn’t matter because he doesn’t have to be the strongest, he just has to be stronger than the weakest scum.)

Chiaki Nanami- Heir (OOF. Agender, uses any pronouns. Doesn’t really. enjoy being the heir. grew up with Byakuya in the same circles. she treats the economy and stock market and stuff like games. enjoys gaming but isn’t good at them. collects so many things. has halls full of collections. Her parents stopped controlling her once she was able to prove she had more money than them and could literally bankrupt them if she wanted.)

Hajime Hinata- Baseball Star (Chiaki’s best friend, his family was upper middle class until he hit it BIG as a baseball star. wants to do BIG things and wants to attend hope’s peak more than anything!! Doesn’t really think of baseball as his THING, just a means to an end! trans :)

Teruteru Hanamura- Biker Gang Leader (started with shaking down some jerks who didn’t pay their food and drink tabs at his mama’s restaurant. now he RUNS their tiny town. His siblings are essentially gang mascots, he works hard to keep them out of trouble (while bringing them to like. meetings where he ends up beating a dude almost to death. its fine). most of what he does it to get more money to keep the restaurant afloat and care for his mama with her health conditions.)

Nekomaru Nidai- Fashionista (the drama. the CHAOS. most people are like ohhh we can never understand this artistic genius when he’s literally just. vibing and has ADHD and a love for coffee. Works a lot on accessible clothing lines for disabled people! Also he and Kazuichi work together sometimes, Nekomaru is good at calming Kaz down and seeing like, the root of whatever problem and making it better. ALSO A TRANS ICON and just flaunts it.)

Imposter- In the hope’s peak days they are impersonating Ryota Mitarai, as a part of the 77th class. In the Killing Game they impersonate Mondo Oowada as the Ultimate Prince. They’re doin’ their best.

Ibuki Mioda- (???) (Izuru Kamakura) Protagonist! Gundham Tanaka’s older sister (though they’re in the same school year). Nonbinary and using just. an array of pronouns alongside she/her, and jokingly fights with gundham for neopronouns like MOM said it’s MY TURN on the rawrself pronouns. She attends the reserve course to stay at her brother’s side. She dresses loudly and acts even louder because !!! she wants to stand out!! in the middle of this drab reserve course hell!!  but when things go down, she wants to be someone, to be worthy of being her amazing brother’s big sister. so she accepts some offers.

NON-KILLING GAME:

Ryota Mitarai- Ultimate Analyst (stays in his room. He’s terrified of the outside world but fascinated by it. watches hope’s peak academy through security feeds, picking up on little details. he just wants to understand things but never looks at the big picture.)

Chisa Yukizome- Ultimate Boxer (Homeroom teacher!! She’s working really hard and believes in everyone! Some are intimidated by talent, but she’s never hurt anyone outside of the ring! Dating Kyosuke)

Juzo Sakakura- Ultimate Student Council President (Has anger issues, though his work at reigning them in assisted in becoming an Ultimate. Was responsible for security and the Hope’s Peak student council. Dating Kyosuke)

Kyosuke Munakata- Ultimate Housekeeper (Meticulous, works himself to the BONE even if he’s good enough to not have to do that. Is working on establishing another Hope’s Peak! Dating Chisa and Jozu!!!)

Seiko Kimura- Ultimate Blacksmith (GIVE MY GIRL KNIVES!! She’s an anxious gal, always wearing a facemask that filters the air in her forge because she has some respiratory problems. she prefers making more decorative pieces like an artist, but sometimes can create utilitarian pieces or tools to fit specific needs. Still a doormat)

Ruruka Ando- Ultimate Pharmacist (She constantly asks Seiko for new tools for her developments in medicine, saying its all for the advancement of humanity, so Seiko denying any request is SELFISH, though she never thinks to make anything for seiko’s health issues. Dating Izayoi. Specializes in medicine for mental health. Not Doing Great :)

Sonosuke Izayoi- Ultimate Confectioner (He loves sweets. LOVES them. Creates things that look plain, ordinary. but taste so GOOD you CRY and maybe ascend for a little bit. sometimes Ando makes cool new drugs to put in the sweets, who knows! It’s a mystery! He always has like. a huge refrigerated case of fresh cakes, and constantly has a lollipop in his own specialty recipe in his mouth.)

#ask #former-champion #danganronpa #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #super danganronpa 2 #I could tag every character but consider this: ITS 3 AM IT TOOK ME OVER AN HOUR TO WRITE THIS #not wizzy #dangan ronpa

[illfoandillfie]

uhm if you still need and want a benny boi request: hiking with him and soft sex by the fireplace to warm up 🥺 or in the tent bc it's probably pretty cold ngl

(@queenmylovely​)

God you bitches get me. These prompts are wonderful and came in about 30 seconds apart lmao so i hope you like what I did with them!

warnings: smut but its like super somft and fluffy, also a lil bit of arguing

Blurb Advent: Day 16

The trip wasn’t exactly what you’d imagined it would be. Initially you’d been planning to get away during Summer, maybe head to the beach for a couple of weeks, spend your time relaxing in the sun, hitting the waves. But the timing never quite worked out and the whole idea of going away was put on hold until it had cooled down again. And of course, once it became clear the trip would be in winter, you had to stop thinking of the beach and find somewhere new to go. Luckily (you supposed) a family friend of Ben’s had a cabin in the woods that he was happy to let you use. You weren’t quite as thrilled with it as you would have been a little beach side cottage, but you really just wanted some time for you and Ben without other distractions and he wanted to get out of the city. And neither of you wanted to wait another six months for the break. So the arrangements were made and early on a Friday morning you grumbled your way out of bed and into the warmest clothes you owned, packing everything into the car, ready to head off on your holiday.

 The cabin was cute, surrounded by tall trees and the promise of picturesque views. A generator had been installed a few years previous to allow access to electricity and there was a large rain tank to collect water for all the plumbing systems. You had been warned that in dryer weather you may need to seek out the nearby well to collect water for drinking and cooking. There’d been a lot of rain in the previous month so you didn’t think you’d need to worry about it but, all the same, you kept it in mind, adding a few metal water bottles to your essential supplies (which included things like food, the makings of tea and coffee, toothpaste and condoms). On top of the essentials you also made sure to pack Ben’s guitar and your travel paint set in the hopes that the seclusion and nature would inspire you both.

 The first day was mostly spent getting there and unpacking. When you arrived, you had to carry all your gear up a short incline that the car couldn’t access but it was worth it when you saw the scene. It was gorgeous, the surrounding woods a little damp with fresh rainfall, the cabin looking cozy and warm and perfect for a romantic getaway. You spent the morning putting food in the fridge and poking around the cabin, getting the doors and windows open to let in some air and natural light. In the afternoon you checked out the store of firewood and decided to collect some more so that it would have time to dry out under cover before you needed it. Together, bundled up in warm coats and gloves, you walked around the immediate area, collecting any logs that looked large enough as well as smaller sticks for kindling. In the evening you made dinner together and settled in for a night on the couch, wrapped in as many blankets as you could get your hands on. Things had been so busy lately you almost didn’t know what to do with yourself now that you were taking a break from it all. But the chaos you’d been living in had meant you didn’t get much of a chance to talk to Ben properly so that was what you did. Snuggled up on the couch and talked, finally able to just be together.

 The next day Ben suggested you check out the surrounding area, follow the hiking trail up the hill and see what was out there. There were practical reasons like finding the well just in case you did need it, but mostly it was just for fun. You each filled a backpack with a water bottle and some food as well as a grabbing a small first aid kit, some bug spray to combat the mosquitos you’d noticed the night before, and your paints. Ben slung his guitar over his back and you set off. The walk itself was fine though there were a few steep places on the trail. Ben used them as an excuse to hold your hand, getting a few steps higher and then offering his to help you follow. It was silly but cute and you found yourself giggling whenever he did it. It was quiet too, which was nice. You didn’t meet any other people on the trail but that meant you could stop and point out creatures that crossed your path or pause to take photos of interesting plants and pretty views you might like to paint later.

 At the top of the hill was a little lookout area with a park bench. Since you seemed to have it to yourself you unpacked your bags and ate lunch looking out over the tops of the trees below. As you ate you pulled out your sketchbook and started to draw things you could see, going over some with paints and leaving others as just the outline. Ben pulled out his guitar and found a small spot to lean against a tree and play softly, his eyes closed as he plucked at the strings. It was tranquil and peaceful and perfect. Or nearly perfect. You hadn’t noticed it as much while you were walking but now that you were standing still you realised just how freezing cold it was. For a while you tried to ignore it but eventually you had to speak up.

“Benny? Are you getting cold? My fingers are starting to freeze, maybe we should think about heading back?”

Ben dropped into the seat beside you and grabbed your hands in his, “I’ll warm them up for you.”

“That’s cute,” you smiled, not mentioning how unhelpful of a suggestion it was, “But I’m serious. The walk up here took a while anyway, might be best to start heading back down now, before it starts getting dark and even colder. Plus I don’t like the look of those clouds,” you pointed to a dark patch of sky off in the distance.

Ben eyed the rainclouds and thought for a moment, “Alright, you make a good point. Let’s pack up.”

 As quickly as you could you packed everything back into your bags and began to make your way back down the slope. Walking did help warm you up again though you couldn’t help but mention your need to defrost in front of the fire. And your discomfort only got worse as the rain began. The trees protected you a little but not enough and before long your teeth were chattering and your toes felt numb. Ben was just as unhappy, his hair dripping onto his face as he snapped at you to hurry up. He got particularly cranky when you paused to take a photo of the pretty haze the rain had thrown over one of the scenes you’d photographed on your way up, the roof of your cabin just visible through the trees.

“All your fucking complaining and now you want to stop to take pictures? Jesus Christ.”

“Hey, if it wasn’t for me you’d still be sitting up at the fucking lookout twiddling your thumbs.”

“You’re so fucking full of it. And slow! Could you walk a little faster please!” Ben tried to grab your hand and pull you along but you shook him off.

“It’s not my fault my feet feel like ice blocks. I didn’t even want to come out to this stupid cabin.”

“You’re the one who was practically begging for me to take you somewhere.”

“Yeah but not a fucking cabin in the middle of nowhere. This is the start of a horror film Ben. You brought me to a horror film.”

“Y’know this isn’t exactly what I wanted either. I was hoping for something a little more romantic, a little less bitching.”

“Well I think you’ve put paid to that.” You spat back, dropping your eyes to your feet so you could watch the terrain you were walking over, not wanting to slip in case Ben decided to walk ahead.

 You were surprised when Ben held his hand out to you, offering his help to get down a particularly uneven patch of the path, but you took it all the same.

“Sorry,” he said softly, keeping his hand tight around yours, “I know this isn’t ideal.”

“It was lovely up until the rain,” you shrugged, “Sorry I stopped before, and that I’ve been winging so much,”

“Hey, you’re allowed to winge, especially when your idiot boyfriend gets you stuck freezing to death in the middle of nowhere,” he squeezed your hand reassuringly, “but maybe he can make it up to you when you get back to the cabin?”

“How?”

“I’m thinking we get the fire going and sit as close to it as we can until we’re warm. I can make us some hot chocolate and then maybe we whip up a curry for dinner? Something really hot.”

You chucked and nodded, “Sounds good. Can I make one request?” “What is it?” “Can we cuddle? While we’re in front of the fire?”

“The cuddling was implied. It’s the most romantic thing I can think of so of course we’re cuddling.”

“You’re not an idiot Ben. And walking in the rain is kind of romantic, especially when there’s a fire to go back to.”

Ben pulled your hand up to his lips, kissing the back of it as you walked.

 By the time you got back to the cabin you were damp through, though your shoes felt completely soaked. Ben was true to his word though, peeling off his jacket and bending over the fireplace as he told you to go and get changed. You dug out clean, dry clothes, throwing Ben’s hoodie over the top. You grabbed all the blankets you could and came out to a fire coming to life as Ben hurried off to change. While he was gone you dropped the blankets on the floor, a little back from the fireplace, creating a sort of nest for the two of you.

“You stole my hoodie,” Ben pouted.

“Can’t blame me, it’s so warm and soft and I look cute in it,”

He chucked as he took his place beside you, wrapping his arms around you, “all of that is very true.”

For a while you just sat together, letting the feeling come back to your fingers and toes. Ben asked to see the photos you’d taken, pointing out scenery he thought would make nice artwork, and especially anything you could hang on the walls at home.

“I hope your sketchbook didn’t get too wet”

“I don’t think the rain got into the bags too much. What about your guitar?”

“It should be fine, it’s been in worse weather. Sorry I was short with you before,” he said quietly, his nose bumping your cheek.

You turned your head towards him, “It’s alright. I’m sorry too.”

He kissed you softly, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek.

You sighed against his lips and shifted to better face him, discouraging him from moving away.

 Ben kissed you slowly and deeply, as if he intended to just keep kissing you all night. But gradually his hands began to wander too, fingertips lightly tracing patterns over your sides as they slipped further down. You hummed at the touch, mirroring him, trailing your fingers down his chest and stomach. Slowly, he inched the hem of the hoodie higher until he could pull it over your head. You didn’t mind, plenty warm from the fire and Ben’s embrace.

“This okay?” Ben asked between small kisses along the corner of your mouth, his fingers already tugging at your shirt.

“Mmhmm, very,”

He nodded and lifted your shirt over your head, keeping his arms up so you could do the same to him.

He didn’t rush, leisurely following the line of your throat with his lips, humming in response to your whimpers and mewls. You were already wet when he wriggled his hand under the band of your leggings, exacerbating your arousal as he stroked along your slit.

 Once he had your pants off he rolled you onto your front, making sure you were comfortable amongst all the blankets, the heat of the fire washing over you. Gently, he hooking his fingers into the top of your underwear, pulling them down your legs, leaving soft kisses on your lower back and arse and thighs.

“Give me two seconds, babe,” he whispered, tugging his own pants off and leaning over to grab one of your backpacks.

“What’re you doing?” you asked, looking over your shoulder at the noise.

“Might have thrown a couple of condoms in here, just in case.”

“In case? In case of what?”

“I don’t know. In case the view made you super horny or we wandered into a fairy ring and ended up kidnapped by pervert fairies. Just, y’know, in case.”

“You’re so stupid,” you laughed, tapping him with your foot as you lay down again, your arms folded under your head.

“I was just preparing for any eventuality.”

“Mmm well, you might want to hurry up and prepare or else I’m gonna fall asleep here. It’s very comfortable,”

“Don’t do that, hang on,” You heard Ben tear at the wrapper and then swear and then tear it again as you laughed into your arms.

“Alright, ready. You still awake,”

“Surprisingly, yes,”

“Good,” his voice was close to your ear as he lay over you, cocooning you in his warmth as he entered you from behind.

You moaned into your arm as he slowly rocked into you, his chest against your back as he braced himself on arms either side of you. There wasn’t much scope for anything fast or hard but it was intimate, his cock pressed against your g-spot so that every slight shift of his hips sent a jolt of pleasure through you.

Ben kissed your shoulder and left his lips there as he mumbled, “feel good?”

“Mmhmm, fucking incredible,”

“Mmm, you feel incredible too.”

You pushed your self up and looked around for Ben. Within seconds he was kissing you again, tongue dragging over your lips as another jolt shot though you and you gasped.

 For a while you stayed like that, your movements lazy and slow. But it wasn’t enough to push you over the edge, even with Ben groaning in your ear or sucking at your pulse point.

“I need more Ben,”

“Alright, babe, if I pull out are you good to roll over?”

You nodded, catching him in another kiss to show your appreciation.

Once you were on your back, leaning on your forearms, Ben adjusted his position, his legs falling between yours as he lined himself up once more. He wasn’t much deeper but the angle was different and you felt Ben hit a spot he hadn’t reached before as he leaned over you and attached his lips to your neck again.

“Fuck, Ben,” The fire was still burning, heating your opposite side as you threw your arm around Ben, digging your nails into his back as he gave an experimental thrust.

“This better?” “Yeah. You make me feel so good,”

Ben smiled and lay you back further, so he didn’t have to hold himself up with his arms, instead allowing him to slide one hand between you to softly play with your clit.

You grasped at his back as his hips snapped against yours harder, his fingers constantly rubbing at your clit.

“C’mon, babe, you’re close aren’t you.”

You nodded again, feeling as if you’d lost the ability to form words as your back arched. Everything was warm and comfortable – the fire and the blankets and Ben’s low voice, mumbling encouragement between kisses – and before you fully comprehended it was happening, your orgasm washed over you, pulling Ben’s name from your throat. He mirrored you a few seconds later, groaning your name as he stilled, his forehead falling to meet yours.

Carefully he rolled off you and you shuffled around to lean your head on his chest, still mostly tucked up in your blanket nest.

It was quiet for a moment as you both settled, your breathing falling into sync as you watched the fire and listened to the rain that had only gotten heavier while you were wrapped up in each other.

Suddenly Ben spoke, his tone more than a little braggy, “How’s that for romantic.”

#my writing #my blurbs #smut blurb #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy smut #ben hardy imagine #cant believe you made me yearn so fucking much #but here we are #guess those canada goose pics really fucked us all up huh #ohladymoon #blurb advent 2020

[alice-angel12x]

☁ Drider!Shouto x reader

Dystopian AU/ Monster AU

[Sorry if shouto is a bit ooc]

The world fell into ruin when the all powerful All For One took over all of japan. He took control of everything, and who ever dared defy him would face a horrible fate. Once he had control he shapped society the way he found entertaining. It's not like they could stop him. He had a large following that helped spread his rule and terror. Those who had a transmitter, or transformation quirk were safe. They were treated like people or held in higher regards. Those who had mutation quirk were called monsters and were locked away.

So All For One seperated people. Those who were safe where human. Brainwashing them into believing they were better then those monsters. Those who were Mutated were teated like wild and unpredictable animals, The monsters. They were mocked, humiliated, tortured, and locked away from the pretty cities, and only human Capitals. Some were unfortinate to be born with a mutation quirk, but some were forced to have this fate by All For One. By curing people with said quirks, some were criminals, rebels, or innocents to show his power. Those who are 'lucky' just get their quirk taken and turned into a slave.

What about those who were quirkless you ask. Well... They are slaves.

____

Just outside of the grand Capital, there was a large Dome loomed over the forest. It covered 50 miles worth of land. Inside was a forest, a river, rock hills, cliffs, and caves. Inside were the monsters. This is were they are locked away, and put into their natural habitat. Left to starve, except the occasional 'mouse' that was let inside for them to feed on. With no other food they are left with no choice. As the mouse tries to run and hide the monsters hunt it down and devour them. This hunt is recorded and broadcast all over the cities. As a sick entertainment for the rich, Powerful, and citizens. But for the quirkless slave or the mice it is a form of warning to stay in line and to know our place.

___

"Oh looks like our little mouse could not out run that pack werewolf," the commentator said with so much enthusiasm in his voice.

"Yeah John looks like he's dog food now," John's partner joked.

The slaves all watched in horror, as they watched their friend get eaten alive. The quirkiness were all in their cages and forced to catch the monitor, as a constant reminder that soon that will be their fate. To become a meal, a mouse for sent to die for entertainment.

"They ate Ochaco," a close friend of hers sobbed.

I didn't know her personaly, but she was a really nice girl. She didn't deserve to go out the way she did. I sat in my cage, trembling as I watched the carnage. Denki, Momo, Jirou, Sero, and know Ochaco.

They were all the unfortunate mice picked. I survived another month. Sadly my luck ran out the next month.

"Haha this little rat will do," said a gaurd as he opened my and quickly grabbed me.

I tried to struggle and break free from him, but something hard hit the back of my head. I blacked out.

........

"Welcome back everybody, it's that time again. Our favorite little game of survival. Today our lovely little mouse this month is Y/n L/n. A bit on the petite side, could probably squeeze tight spaces. She's a pretty face, it's sad it's wasted on a mouse. Well place your bets now folks. Who will she find herself being eaten by," John the host said with a laugh.

I opened my eyes to see that I was in a forest. It seemed go on forever, but quickly relieazed where I was. I was inside the dome.

"Jeff sound the dinner bell!" John said as the sound of the air horn filled the dome.

I ran, I didn't know where I just ran into the forest. There was no point in banging on the door. No one was going to answer. So I ran through the forest till I saw a clearing. The same clearing were Ochaco was eaten. I came to a halt right at the edge of the forest. I hesitated as flashed of Ochaco's mangled corpse appeared in my head.

Suddenly I heard growling behind me. I turned to see the pack of werewolves. The leader was a ashy blond with spiky hair and blood red eyes. I slowly started to back away, as he took a step foward.

"Sorry, nothing personal. Were just starving and everyone needs to eat," a red headed werewolf said with a sorrowful look on his face.

"Kirishima shut up! Lets just make this quick before some other monster gets her," said the leader.

"Bakugou, could you be a little more sensitive," Kirishima said bitterly.

"Yeah, well your sensitivity almost cost us last time," Bakugou shot back.

While They were arguing, I quickly made a run for it. Dying by werewolves is probably the worst way to go. I could hear them give chase once they relieazed I ran. Just beyond the open field was tall grass. I managed to loose the wolves, as I came across willow tree by a lake. I stoped their to take a break, when I heard hissing.

Looking up into the tree was a Naga. He had green hair and eyes to match his green tail. He was skinny and so malnourished he didn't have the strength to move anymore. I quickly left that spot and kept moving, till I came across some caves.

It was almost night and it started to get dark. So I went inside the cave, to learn to late that what is a hole in the ground three steps in. I fell into the darkness and blacked out.

_____

Dark and lonely. Thats what I would describe my life to be. A lonley spider in cave.

While the other people in the some wait for their next meal I'm working on making my way out of this hell hole. As I continued to dig my tunnel when I felt my webs vibrate, something fell into my webs.

I slowly made my way over to the cave entrance, surprised too see a unconscious girl tangled in my webs. She had soft silky h/c hair, and smooth s/c skin. I slowly started to inspect her entirely. As I did I found a mouse brand burned onto her skin.

Like me, a monster brand was burned on my side. I untangled her and placed her down softly on the ground. She felt So warm in my arms, I almost didn't want to let go. So I took her deep within the caves, too hide her from the monsters. But also to keep her here, with me.

___

I slowly started to wake up, as I sat up I found my self in a cave. Looking down I was laying on some sort of silk thread, or web. Actually the whole room was covered in webs. I slowly started to stand and started to rip the remaining webs on me.

Suddenly I heard something crawling. Then I saw it a Drider, though I never saw one before. He had half red and half white hair, with a big hurn on the left side of his face, all over his body he bore scars, and on the right side of his chest was the monster brand burned on his skin.

   "Umm, hello," I said as I slowly sat back down. He did block my only exit.

"Hello.... I'm suprised your not screaming, or trying to escape," he said bluntly with a neutral face.

"Well your blocking my only exit, and even if I scream no one is gonna hear me so, yeah... I'm y/n by the way," I said as I held out my hand.

"Umm, I'm shouto the Drider," he said simply slowly shaking my hand.

"So.. Umm, why did you spare me. I thought you would be hungry like the other people up there?" I said looking up at the ceiling.

"Well I have a slow matabalizem, so it takes a while for me to get hungry. I.. I was just lonely," he said with with a light blush.

"Oh... O-okay, I'd be happy to

acompany you, shouto," I said with a smile.

Shouto seemed stuned at first as he seemed to just stare at me for a bit. Suddenly it seemed his eyes began to water, then he pulled me into a tight hug. As he did he stood up to his full hight, which lifted me a few feet of the ground. I slowly and hestitanly returned his hug. His spider half looked like it was an albino verson of a black widow.

As I was studying I could hear him smelling me... It was weird but I didn't say anything. Suddenly I heard a buzzing noise.

____

I could hear them. The humans flying spies, they were looking for Y/n. Gently placing y/n down on the nest, I went to investigate.

I saw it the flying cameras. I quietly sneaking up behind it and quickly smashing it with a rock. They weren't going to take my friend away from me.

-----

As the weeks went by Y/n and Shouto got closer and closer. Y/n would help with Shouto's tunnel, and sometime shouto would go out to the surface to bring berries for y/n. She would clean up any wounds Shouto would gain.

As the weeks went on y/n became more, and more weak. The berried weren't enough to sustain her. She could even afford to move or spend any energy, or she will starve even more. So in desperation, Shouto worked on the tunnel even more. Till he finally did it, he finally tunneled his way outside the dome.

Quickly and quietly he scools y/n into his arms and escapes from this hell. Shouto travled for days, getting as far away from the city, and the dome as possible. When they finally settled down, high up in a tall tree, Shouto went out and hunted down a strong stag.

Cooking it and feeding it to y/n. As time went on y/n did regain her strength.

_____

I slowly crawled down the tree with y/n in my arms. I was so nerves, always worrying if somethi g would come and take y/n away.

We finally made it to the ground , and I let y/n down. She stood still for awhile then she started to.. Roll around on the ground with a wide a smile.

"Were free Shouto. It feels so good," she exclaimed as she jumped up and hugged me.

"Y/n... Thank you for staying with me. Even when you were close to dying. I never want to lose you, and I treasure you, Y/n," I said as is quickly pulled her into a passonite kiss.

And I was happy went she slowly melted into my kiss. This is my paradise. She is my Utopia.

#monster au #shoto torodoki #bnha shoto #shoto x reader #fluff #mha x reader #bnha

[bibliocratic]

i found writing proposal fic really fun !! or wedding planning :) maybe u would also find that fun? x

jonmartin post-160 proposal fic

Jon tries to write vows.

Hunched over, crow-spined and squinting in the feeble cast of the firelight, he scribbles, mutters, scratches out, furrows his brow and clenches his fingers and snarls under his breath in irritation, at his fumbling incapacity for words. He was not born with a poetic soul, and his admiration for Martin's humble offerings grows each passing minute. His words sputter out of him with all the ease of water from a broken tap.  

Jon has taken first watch, and it's a duty he approaches solemnly. They've broken into a boarded-up hairdressers, set up their sleeping bags and meagre provisions and the small fire in a waste-paper bin for warmth in the cramped office space at the back. Every noise, creak and snap and distant shriek has Jon straightening, widening the circle of his Knowing like a fishing net, giving it an exhausted push outwards that gets harder each time. The lawless world they are in has at least one advantage; nothing but the most fool-hardy of things wants to touch the architect of this nether-world of horrors, nothing skulking or spiralling or swooping wants to challenge an unfettered Avatar. It's more people, these days, that they have learned to avoid.

Martin twitches in his sleep. Sleeping bag pulled up over his face, head pillowed by folded-over barber capes,  his body snug against but turned away from Jon, who is sitting up, his back supported by plastic wrapped boxes of industrial-size shampoos and hair rollers. Jon frowns again, his lines only deepening as he listens to the soft, undisturbed in and out of Martin's breathing. Because he wants to get this one right. To place words like mosaic tiles to create the imagery of his intention, to capture everything he feels he needs to say.

Martin deserves this. Jon can give him so few words, these days. Jon wants to give him ones that will mean something.

His impatience is one of the few things that the last few years hasn't chewed out of him. He huffs, irritable and discontent, his frustration leaden under his skin, and scrunches up another paper to sacrifice to his petty mood.

When Martin takes the next watch, he finds a nest of fire-scourged paper balls dying in the embers.

–

Jon tries to find rings.

His intention is to be a few minutes. He unpeels himself around dawn from Martin's heavy arms, gently shushing the unhappy noise this draws from his mouth. The jewellers is ten minutes from where they've holed up today, and Jon steals away guiltily,  keeping his Eye on Martin long after he's left to make sure he doesn't wake up to find him gone.

Jon is away too long. He reaches the small, high-street shop with no issue, doesn't even need to pick the shattered lock of the door. Inside, he finds a scatter of rings and necklaces, but they're all soot-charred, twisted from an unnatural heat, their metals warped irreparable.  And then there is something tooth-filled in the recesses of the jewellers, something that smells the human stench of him and feels hungry, and it takes Jon an hour to give it the slip, leading it into a fog-bank half a mile away to be subsumed by the greedy pull of the mist.

He Looks out of himself, and against the borders of him, he feels a blanketing heat-shimmer of terror and knows it isn't his own.

His long legs take the streets at a run, huffing as he reaches the grey-stone public square at the centre of the city, exposed and empty of people. Getting nearer, he hears a looping, repetitive nightingale whistle, low and plaintive. It stops, waits, and starts up again.

Jon, with perfect mimicry, makes the high harsh caw of a crow in reply.

Martin is standing at the door of the Wagamama's they broke into, his feet unshod by shoes, his hair uncombed and flattened at one side. The creep of dawn is not so faint that Jon can't see the pale wash of his face, the tightness of his jaw, the relief that cascades across it like the release of a dammed-up waterfall when he sees Jon haring his way across the vacant, space of the square to greet him.

“Where were you?” Martin demands even before he reaches him.  His hands running over him as soon as Jon gets close enough, checking for hurt, injury, his voice high and pitchy and failing to translate his panic into something else. “God, I woke up, and – don't do that Jon! Anything could've – I had no idea where you'd – and what the hell were you thinking?”

Jon's hands motion, miserably, desperate to soothe and knowing it can't be that easy, sorry, sorry, sorry.

“Where did you go?” Martin repeats, insistent, almost angry but forcing it down to simmer at a panic-laced frustration. He doesn't usually push, usually recognises the limits of what Jon can communicate, allows them both space to sit down with paper and pencil and is patient with the slower exchange of this. But his shirt is coated with sweat around the throat and arms, his hands curling into fists to stop their juddering, nerve-shocked motions, and Jon tries to imagine how he would feel, should he wake up, and find Martin gone.

He pauses before opening his mouth.

“Looking for something,” he says carefully with a stolen clear-cut pronunciation, bathed in an entitled, self-absorbed air. Rifles through his records, despairing to find no words that he can chop-and-change together like a collage of explanation, glances up at Martin's distressed expression.

“Did you find it?”

Jon shakes his head.

“I feel like an idiot,” he tries again in a pleasant, justifying voice, and wishes someone had put to records some better expression of apology. Wishes someone had used the right words in the appropriate manner; stronger still, wishes his voice was his own again, a domain he could claim unsullied by the burden of his title. That he could say something, anything to wipe the blanket fear from Martin's scruffy face.

“Yeah, well,” Martin grumbles after a while, wiping at his eyes. “I knew that already.”

Sorry, Jon signs again, but Martin is stilling his hands, gentle even now, and bundles him into a tight, bone-squeeze of a hug.

“Don't do that to me again, Jon, please,” he whispers shakily.

Jon doesn't try and find rings again.

–

Jon tries to plan a proposal.

He knows, deep down, that the best intentioned version of himself is a planner. Likes order and alphabetized files and organisational stationery, is happiest with a well-crafted spreadsheet or a completed to-do list. Jonathan Sims is a man easily satisfied by things as they should be, appeased and engaged by the challenge of a logical puzzle, a knotty problem he can sort by analysis and application.

He also knows that there is another version of himself. The one that rashly takes an axe to possessed tables and jumps into fog-bound seascapes and soil-choked coffins after the people he loves.

He does try. He thinks of picturesque spots he can take Martin, places where the scenery isn't so horror-fucked, where there are still banks from which they can watch sunsets. But the picturesque spots, when they aren't shadow-infested or crawling with overzealous fungal growths that warn of Corruption nearby, are chilly, and there's not exactly time to stop and admire the views much anyway. The sunset-stained bank is a near success; drought-scoured and pocked with frost-damage, but the evening colours are unashamedly glorious. Jon spends hours trying to muster the courage and words and correct gestures, only for Martin, drained and wiped out  from a run-in with the Flesh, to fall asleep on Jon's shoulder, his hair flopping over his face, a comforting dead-weight. Jon adjusts them carefully so Martin's head is cushioned against his thigh, and scratches his fingers soothingly through his hair as he watches the sunset alone.  

But one day they're making their way through the Peak District, and they've found a tumbling river with a small waterfall. Martin's flicked water at him with a butter-wouldn't-melt smile, and Jon replied in kind, and Martin had made a shrieking giggling scandalised 'Jon!' as he continued splashing him. And it might have been the way the water dripped down his face and over his freckles, or the way the dim daylight caught his profile, or it might have been the bold and untempered heat that burnt like a forge in Jon's chest to hear the high, bright sound of his rare happiness, but whatever it was,  the other version of Jon resurfaces. Decides that he doesn't need romantic scenery or rings or vows or other people's words in his mouth, that life is short and this can't wait and he wants this, wants Martin, more than anything.

First, he drags Martin to him. On his tiptoes, arms locked around shoulders, feeling Martin hum, surprised but pleased as he kisses him.

It is a good kiss. One of his best. Jon feels a little bit smug about it when they separate and Martin is slightly out of breath, a comet-streak of heat across his face, looking a bit struck at Jon's forwardness.

Jon seals his first kiss with a second, smaller, softer kiss, making sure Martin's looking at him.

Then he lowers himself onto one knee.

“Jon, what are you – ?” Martin asks, his face creasing with confusion. But Jon has chosen the most unsubtle non-verbal gesture he can, and refuses to look away from him, gazing up and waiting for the penny to drop, even as his knees complain on the hard rocky ground, even as his own doubts swarm that Martin won't understand, Martin won't want to, Martin might say no.

Martin gives a little sucked-in gasp.

“Jon, are you, are you asking...?”

Jon is nodding, almost feverish, and Martin's face has gone the colour of a vibrant sunrise, moisture welling up in his eyes. Jon reaches out, takes one of Martin's hands in his smaller hold, touches with the pad of his thumb the space where, if he could, he would have slotted a ring.  

He lets go and precisely and delicately, he signs I love you. They don't have the vocabulary for grander expressions, but Jon doesn't have anything else he needs to say anyway.

“Jon, you – god, I love you,” Martin replies, damp-voiced and faint,  a broad and beaming  smile widening across and lighting up his face. There's not a pause before he's eagerly going to his knees to join Jon, pressing fierce, hopelessly charmed kisses against his lips, cradling his face in his hands, and Jon's so dazed by the onslaught, it takes him a minute to sign Yes? at Martin.

“I – oh, yeah, yeah! Of course, yes,” Martin replies, still struck by a thoughtless delighted giddiness.

Then: “Oh! Oh, oh, wait just a minute I – ”

He's digging his hands into his left trouser-pocket, tugging it out, pressing what he's found into Jon's hands.

Jon opens the travel-knocked, slightly cracked box to see two unpolished plain bands sat snugly in their display, and his own smile blossoms like a firework on his face.

send me prompts if you fancy!

#tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #prompt fill #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #there was a happier comedy version of this in there somewhere #but other and more skilled writers than try for that