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amazeingartist · 14 hours ago

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CW Body Horror - Maneater Soap

another creature au idea where soap gets bit by a thing and slowly starts turning, the small but big identify he’s slowly becoming less and less human is a comments about his teeth to his team. At first they ached, now they itch, now he can’t stop running his tongue over them till one night ghost’s walking to make a late night brew and there’s something standing in the kitchen area. the low light reflects unnaturally in its eyes but then it flicks a switch and it’s just soap

ghost’s relief is short lived when soap smiles and it’s all sharp teeth

the team having an emergency meeting after ghost sees soap’s teeth about how to proceed, soap’s mind is still sound but his body is still changing and if it’s found out he’s a “man-eater” their jobs won’t be the only things lost. so they watch him, while soap does his best to keep himself accountable, in the meantime. soap will retain his human look so long as he wants to look human, excluding the minor tells of course

oh, that and soap’s new addition to his diet. human food still works to keep him going, but it does nothing to stop the creep, the building new needs that linger in soap’s bones and in his mind. The scent of blood overall is sweeter now, human damn near intoxicating but soap resists all the same. like having his favourite scotch held right under nose, it’s be so easy to steal just a sip but soap doesn’t know if his mind will survive if he gives into temptation. His teammates smell the sweetest, he can’t figure out if it’s because they just are or if his affection for them is mixing with new instincts

At some point, soap and ghost are in ghost’s quarters enjoying some downtime. ghost’s sharpening his knives when catches himself on one and the affect is instant, soap’s suddenly in ghost’s space tentatively reaching for the bleeding finger

soap kneels and brings the finger closer to face and as he does ghost watches only slightly mortified as soap’s pupils seem to expand, perfectly slit down the middle to show off his maneater ones. Soap tilts ghost’s hand around, watching in awe at the droplet of blood yet to fall slides across akin. Ghost then watches soap open his mouth, showing off his teeth before his tongue slips through to swipe at ghost’s cut. Soap’s eyes flutter and a noise that no human should be physically capable of making shakes the room. Ghost’s anxiety rise with every long passing second and just when ghost’s thinks this might be it, soap’s final moments at being john “soap” mactavish, the man pulls back

Soap’s teeth and tongue retract and his human eyes settle back over his man eater ones, the rumbling is a soft hum in soap’s chest now as he moves to stand and grab an adhesive strip from the first aid kit in ghost’s bathroom. He returns, looking a bit rumpled, but slaps the strip onto ghost’s cut easily, clearing his throat with a quick “sorry” as he moves back to his doodling spot on ghost’s bed

(although this look is rare, here’s an idea for maneater soap’s full turn)

#john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #my art #it’s that time to creaturefy soap again #body horror #I think #monster #ghostsoap

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lostsexplicit · 14 hours ago

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Delirium

Viktor x female!reader

wordcount: 2189

Summary: He could feel heat crawl up his back and into his face. Viktor, she had called. That voice would haunt him tonight, for many nights. Viktor, a sweet exhale with a slight whine. Were it any other daily visit, he would have been able to let it slide into the abyss, lock it away until he was alone and could safely lose himself in the tangle of thoughts. Yet she said it here, in the echoing quiet of a dark, empty lab, into the shell of his ear. Viktor , he would hear for weeks to come.

a/n: more of a reader than writer, but this skinny twink had me in a chokehold in his first moments on screen. Set in vaguely S1 Act 1/2

His leg always worsened as the clock’s hands ticked past two. Late lab nights were more and more common as the demand for progress increased.

The lab doors swished open, dull thuds trudging in. Scents of warm and sweet pastries wafted in. Viktor’s stomach growled. The sandwich Jayce had shoved in his workspace at noon felt distant.

“I swear they’re trying to kill me,” she yawned, leaning on his desk. Viktors own hand twitched as he saw her smooth, delicately manicured hand set the cup in the center of his vision. She huffed, shrugging her coat off. Her cravat was hung loosely around her neck, the open top of her button up offering a view of her collarbones and a little something more if he strained enough to look. Viktor turned back to the experiment. It sparked.

“No more than Hextech tends to,” he said.

“It took me over two hours to find the books she wanted us to research from and then the library had the audacity to keep it on a two hour loan inside the library.”

“Hm, you were lovely enough to get me coffee?”

“Hot chocolate. We’ve had enough caffeine today,” she said.

A sip revealed that it was sweet and thick chocolate, topped with a generous layer of whipped cream. It struck a contrast between the air of the lab and its steaming contents. Cold nights were never much of a problem except when Viktor worked for so long he forgot to adjust the thermostat. It was alright. He just needed to work out one more aspect before leaving. If he could just get the frequency to reach the pitch before overheating—

“Viktor,” she sighed, voice thick with exhaustion but honeyed in a way that made his heart stop in his throat. “It’s past two. Our brains are lifeless grey jelly now.”

He could feel heat crawl up his back and into his face. Viktor, she had called. That voice would haunt him tonight, for many nights. Viktor, a sweet exhale with a slight whine. Were it any other daily visit, he would have been able to let it slide into the abyss, lock it away until he was alone and could safely lose himself in the tangle of thoughts. Yet she said it here, in the echoing quiet of a dark, empty lab, into the shell of his ear. Viktor, he would hear for weeks to come.

He stood abruptly and put his weight on the edge of the desk as he rushed to the other end where some notes lied from an earlier calculation, ramblings safe from her understanding and far enough away to cool himself.

“The chairs alone would’ve been enough to depress any man within an hour,” he said. Would she notice his escape? Viktor glanced back.

“Ugh, don’t remind me. You’d think if this city could fund HexTech it could afford chairs that don't share the comfort level of stone.” She lifted her drink up before wincing, stretching out her hands carefully and thoroughly. Each digit flexed. Viktor wondered how they’d feel in his hair, pulling at the roots. Neatly shaped nails scraping against his back and grasping at his—

The whir of the Hexcore he’d forgotten sped up to a high pitch and lashed out a pulse of electric blue. The metal encasing grew red hot before breaking under pressure and exploding. She gasped and threw her arms up to cover her face as she stumbled back. Surrounded by singed notes and smoking mechanism, the Hexcore lay still, its glow reduced and steady.

Viktor scrambled to reach her. His leg protested and spasmed, but he finally reached her and held her by the shoulders, sliding down to her wrists.

“Are you hurt?” he asked. Stupid, stupid. He knew it was too much energy. That test didn’t have any more probability of success than the last ten. Like an idiot, he’d just left it there without a single warning or precaution. It wasn’t terribly volatile, but if he’d been more amiss in his calculations than he thought the explosion could have led to much more. Viktor held her face, searching for marks that were sure to be there. Some remnant soot laid just below her wide open eyes. He brushed it away. It only made it into a larger smudge.

“I’m good, um,” She blinked rapidly, “I–not even a scratch. Just won’t be able to sleep in these clothes anymore.” Academy uniforms would crease horribly after a night, but that was the least of his concerns.

It was just the musings of his deluded searching, but it seemed she leaned into his hand, relaxed in his hold. He glanced down at her sleeves and found them marked with unfortunate grey.

“I am so sorry, I should have–”

“Hey,” She took his hand in hers. They were warm, soft. Her lips, ones he’d spent sleepless nights picturing for so long the lingering sight of them sent shivers down his spine, twisted into a smirk. “Wouldn’t be your first failed experiment to blow up in my face.”

Viktor pulled his gaze up to frown at her. “That was not failed, I was testing the–”

“Nope, it bleached off an entire eyebrow. Failed. And you didn’t tell me until after I gave my presentations.”

“Your argument was flawless. I wasn’t going to let appearances keep you from speaking”

“Three presentations. One eyebrow.”

“I was right. Anyway, Jayce lost more.”

She laughed. “At least he still looked good with half a beard,” she said, walking to the corner where they kept cleaning supplies. His hands felt cold again. She returned with a rag and broom in hand. She was no stranger to messes into the lab.

A yawn bubbled up and Viktor was halfway through it before he realized.

“Alright, kněžna, time to go home.”

Viktor rolled his eyes. He had used that term once when she was in one of her stubborn, contrarian moods. Most words that slipped out went unnoticed or in such an annoyed, quick torrent that she never pushed for the meaning. This one, though, caught her attention. He had been annoyed as well and quickly translated.

“As you wish, little princess,” he had mocked in response to her growing demands.

It was only a matter of time before the term was weaponized.

“I have work to do.” Viktor slumped back down. His leg was a little worse for wear, stiff from awkward positions. He found himself yanked back, chair swiveling around to face her as she leaned down on the arm rests, trapping him. His breath hitched. That familiar thumping in his chest returned. It wasn’t enough to stifle the annoyance at being interrupted.

She settled him with a look down her nose, exposing the curve of her neck.

“Your last test blew up, Viktor. It’s time to sleep. I will carry you back myself if I have to and you know how that’ll end.”

Last time she decided enough was enough he found himself half-slung over her shoulders like a long, bumpy sack. A few strides to the door had knocked the air out of her every breath and him and his bones creaked in protest before giving in. It wasn’t her preferred method, she generally bribed him with treats, but tonight's bribe had been coated in fine grey dust at no other fault than his own.

Now, with cloudy thoughts of leaning forward and bridging the gap, Viktor could hardly be blamed for an instinctual hum of affirmation, politely agreeing to any words falling from her very close, soft-looking lips. Exhales mingling, she could have asked for his heart and he’d carve it out himself. He was brought back to reality when she leaned to the side and yawned, back arching slightly. Her head dipped low with half-closed eyes as she turned back to him. She whispered between them.

“I want to sleep.” Another sharp jolt to his heart. “But I can’t until I know you’re taken care of. Come on, let’s go home.” She held out her hand to him. The sensation was still a bit foreign, but unlike the strained pleasantries of Piltover, it felt nice, really, to slide his hand into hers. To feel the palms against each other and join in warmth.

They walked back to his apartment at the insistence of her judging gaze. It couldn't be guaranteed that he’d sleep until she saw him at rest herself. He watched her fumble with her key, laughing to himself as each failed attempt mounted her frustration as he did nothing but stared with smirk. She cursed her professor and her professor’s mother as she finally unlocked the door. On the floor went her book bag. Haphazardly along the couch went their coats. At long last, Viktor reached his bed. He pulled a corner of the covers down and sat, letting out a breath of relief when he stretched out his legs. There was a brief thought about something important. Wrinkles and sleeping.

He’d just shrugged off his leg brace and decided that changing out of his clothes was too much trouble when she stumbled into his room, hesitant at the threshold. At that moment, Viktor wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen her in the context of his room and found that he liked the idea, after a moment, he realized he liked it a bit too much as it no longer felt so cold.

“You are not wrinkling your academy clothes,” she said, leaning against the doorframe. There must have been something weary in his gaze because she sighed as she pushed away from the frame and fully entered the room. “Sit up. I’ll at least undo your tie.”

Viktor gave a weak shrug and closed his eyes. He felt more than saw when she closed the distance and fumbled with his cravat. He inhaled sharply and looked at her quickly. On her knees before him. Her fingers brushed underneath, ticklish on his chest. It was somewhat cute to see her focused frown, the small struggle she had with the security of the knot. Eventually, it came undone.

Her eyes flicked up to his. For a breath, they stared. Their exhales mingled.

Spurred by sleep deprivation’s lack of inhibition, she leaned up and fluttered her eyes closed. Motivated by the selfish part of him screaming to just let himself have this, Viktor met her in the middle.

She was right there, lips pursed and stars, she tasted sweet. Viktor knew he was done for. There was nothing left to keep his hand from splaying against her waist and the other buried in her bergamot scented hair. All thoughts of why he hadn't done this before left.

He kissed her hard.

Heated and fervent, like it was his last. She melted against him, placing her leg between his and pushing him down. She gripped his hair. Before he could catch himself, a desperate whine escaped.

“Do that again,” she whispered against him, hot breath fanning over his lips.

“It’s not exactly on demand.” Viktor’s hand, slightly trembling, slid down to rest at her hip, thumb caressing it in a slow pattern.

Her nails grazed against his scalp and she bent down until she was nearly lying on top of him, every inch of her body pressed hotly into him. Viktor didn’t even register the sound that left him. It wasn’t until he felt her kiss twist into a smirk on his neck and he did it again.

“The right conditions have to be met,” he panted. She hummed.

After a brief pause, she let her weight fall to the side of him, arms circling his neck in a tight embrace. His body followed almost of its own accord, mourning the loss of heat on top of him. She still played with the outgrown strands of his hair, eyes fighting to stay open as she pressed soft kisses to his cheekbone, ear, collarbone, any part of him that was in reach. The cool night air began to settle over them as his breathing evened.

He had spent restless nights agonizing over the look in her eyes. A devastating visual display of quiet tenderness that he recognized so acutely in his own heart. Except now, now it burned a little brighter. Demanded more, on the cusp of outgrowing its space and overflowing into the real world.

Viktor had been too enamoured with the soft glow when he first noticed it in himself. It had been a sunshine-like presence, novel and pleasant. Every time he went to snuff it out, for both of their skates, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. To part from it.

With rough pull, Viktor managed to get the blankets out from underneath them. His lithe frame entwined with hers as he held her closer in the warmth. The embers in his heart had long ago grown into a barely contained explosion. He would burn for her. An eternal flame, bright and unabashed even when its mortal vessel waned and decayed into dust.

Already half-asleep, but with a slight upturn of her mouth, she mumbled, “Goodnight, Viktor.”

“Goodnight, můj miláčku.”

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