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binniebeams · 9 months

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The Sweetest Drink

Pairing: Jongho x AFAB Reader

Genre/Rating: Vampire AU, Smut, 18+. MDNI

Summary: Seeing the boost your friend gets after her late night adventures at a certain club, you decided to join her and see what all the fuss is about…

Wordcount: 2.4k

Warnings: Club settings, alcohol consumption, sexual conversations, blood, descriptions of feeding (Vampire). NSFW warnings under the cut.

A/N: This is so delayed but hopefully it lives up to any expectations!! Also my app crashed mid editing and formatting so there may be mistakes I missed! I’m so sorry!

Tags: @twisted-tales-of-all @yoonguurt @kwanisms @kpop-stories-21 @stardragongalaxy

NSFW Warnings: Vampire biting/feeding leading to sexual desire, fingering, bloody make-out session, fwb-ish relationship.

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It had only been a few years since the government released the information regarding their acknowledgment of vampires living among humans, following it with new laws and regulations to make living beside each other a safe and harmonious experience. Restaurants had to expand their menus, and grocery stores did not have to partner with blood banks or donation centers to ensure everyone was accommodated appropriately. Those are all wonderful options but once the sun sets and hunger arises, people resort to…less organized or regulated options… Underground clubs started to pop up left and right, causing a quiet stir among the more curious humans. One of them happened to be the very reason you found yourself sitting in front of your mirror and getting ready for a night out.

“I don’t know why you’re so nervous to go, I’ve been going for months” Kelly was on a whining spree again as you finished up your eyeliner. She was a regular at the club, forming a feeding pact with some guy she said was named Yeosang if you remember correctly-. A change was definitely noticed in her ever since she started seeing him, from her hair looking better, her skin being clearer, and this air of confidence coming from her every time she walked into a room as if she was commanding attention. You wanted that life so badly, you wanted even an ounce of the power she was oozing… “Oh I don’t know, maybe the idea of someone biting into me and sucking my literal blood out is just a bit nerve-wracking?” Your retort had her rolling her eyes in a playful demeanor as you both slipped your shoes on to head out. Clubs weren't really your thing, you were a homebody, and the idea of a bunch of hot and sweaty strangers grinding on each other just didn’t seem like your cup of tea…But here you were, standing at the door waiting for Kelly to pay your cover and get your hand stamped.

An intoxicating smell of alcohol and sweat filled your senses as you made it through the threshold of the building you questioned the structural safety of-. There was no time for trying to distract your mind with small worries like that, you felt yourself getting tugged to the bar where Kelly let out a sort of squeal from seeing her feeding mate “Yeosang!!” Oh boy, here we go, It's time for her to cling to this dude and have heart eyes while leaving you to the wind. “This is Y/N~ That friend I told you I was bringing for Jongho~” Jongho? Who the hell was that? Did she only bring you along to keep some guy company while she escaped off with Yeosang-. “Her? Yeah, I guess she fits his…type” What an ass, what did he mean by that? you were a catch so why did that feel so condescending? He was eyeing you up and down as if he was analyzing you, all the while he had your friend strung up on his arm.

Yeosang pulled out his phone and typed a few things, you could tell it was short and brief from the fact that his volume was on so the sound of his keyboard echoed in your ears when it should have been the blaring music attacking your drums. He didn’t seem to respond to what he had read on the screen, moving his phone to his pocket and whispering something to Kelly as you stood there like a child waiting to hear whatever mom and dad were talking about. You would never get the answer to the questions in your mind, since Kelly had pretty much begged Yeosang to escape away behind the curtain to what you could only assume were private rooms for whatever use seemed to be needed at the time. A roll of your eyes was paired with the sound of her happily being led away and leaving you there at the bar with your almost empty glass and an urge to order some shots.

“Y/N I’m assuming?” The voice that you heard beside you could only be described as blunt but buttery like he almost commanded you to look at him and that's exactly what you did. His eyes pierced into yours as he approached the bar and leaned against it in a way that indicated to you that he had definitely been here before. “And who is asking?” Your voice was laced with a tone of your guard being up, leaving you only to assume this is the ‘friend’ everyone had been mentioning… “Yeosang told me someone was coming and asked me to show you around.” Oh, he’s lying right through his teeth but your judgment was becoming slightly hazy, due to the mix of alcohol and being around him. Jongho could tell you were on edge so he went ahead and ordered a shot for you and waited for you to down it before gesturing for you to follow him. ‘Do you know what this place is for? I’m assuming you do since people don’t just stumble into a place like this”

Did he think you were dumb? Or just blissfully ignorant? If you wern’t so dead set on getting some action tonight, you’d yank your hand away and head to the dance floor. “I sort of have an idea, I just had no idea it was like…this?” There was a pause as you spoke, watching the curtains go past you as he lead you down the hall and your ears were immediately assaulted with sounds of pleasure mixed with pain and subtle cries coming from behind rows of doors. One of which was the threshold you would be stepping through and it was like the world was suddenly so quiet that you could hear your own heartbeat. “I’m not going to kill you, you don’t have to act like your ready to slap me” Jongho released your hand and moved to sit on the plush looking couch in the room, grabbing the drink menu off the small coffee table and starting to browse through as he left you to make yourself comfortable.

“I just uh, haven’t really done this before…” you slowly warmed up to your environment, deciding to make your way over and sit beside him but still at a reasonable distance to where he couldn’t immediately pounce on you. “I can tell, I’m guessing your friend convinced you, enticed you with what kind of place this was and how you would feel?” How did he know? He hit the nail right in the head-. Kelly would go on non stop about Yeosang and how the interactions felt and how it revitalized her in a way, is this just how it makes everyone feel? “She used to be more like me, I guess that’s why we became so close, but lately she’s seemed like a whole new person, like the better version of herself”. As you spoke, he kept his eyes on the menu and just offered subtle nods or small sounds of acknowledgment to your words.

“Did she explain to you how this happens exactly?” This is when he finally turns to you, eye starting to have a hint of red to them and an obvious darkness filling his gaze. “You just have to lay there and be good for me, give yourself to me and everything will go smoothly. Can you do that for me baby?” The distance between you two started to close and you had no idea what was taking over your body. Was it your growing neediness or was there something more to that tint in his iris?…either way, all you could do was nod obediently as he moved you to lay down, his body leaning over yours as he gazed over you to take a look at his…meal for the evening. “I need you to tell me this is okay, that you give consent my dear…” for someone who seemed like a predator looking at fresh prey, we was considerably cautious in the beginning. That is, until you uttered a quiet “I want this” then it was all self control out the window and his lips attached to yours for what felt like eternity but in reality was only a few moment before those plush lips of his were moving their way down to your jaw, then your neck, giving him the chance to get a hint of your sweet smell.

“Do you even realize how delicious you smell…god this is going to be fun” Jongho didn’t frequent the club much, so he made sure to take full advantage of the time he had here, fingers trailing down until the reach the bottom hem of your dress, expertly slipping it up as his attack on your neck continues and all you can do is let out the sweet song that he wanted to hear. Jongho shifted his body to where he was further down and his face was now near your thighs and burning core, exactly where you needed him as he laid kisses to your inner thigh and his fingers worked to slip your undergarments down and tossing them aside to be collected later. be collected later. They were not the primary focus, what was however, was the breath tickling your core and the fingers dancing dangerously close to your clit that was practically begging to be touched.

“Can you hurry up, it will be daytime by the time you get started..” the request, or demand rather, came out as just a whine and the flushed tone on your skin gave away at the fact that you didn’t actually want him to hurry and end this soon. In fact, this prompted him to take even longer, his thumb drawing slow antagonizing circles on your bundle on nerves as he spoke “For someone so quiet. You sure have your own way of being loud”. You could hear his smug attitude without even seeing his face with those words, his hands working expertly before one of his digits teased at your entrance, testing the waters in how you would react. Once he found a reaction from you that let him know you were ready, he slipped one finger in and let you get used to the feeling before continuing.

The cold touch of his skin felt like ice melting on you when your walls squeezed his fingers so deliciously, it brought a whole new sensation to your core and made you clench so sweetly as his lips did their job to explore your inner thighs. Was all of this necessary for Jongho to feed on you? No, but it sure as hell made it more fun. The next touch made you shift slightly, almost like your fight or flight was kicking in and your brain was in prey mode. Newer textbooks and scientific journals can do their best to try and describe the feeling of having your skin punctured by a vampire's fangs but they fall short in telling the full story. It starts with a burning sensation and what feels like a fourteen gauge needle breaking your skin but not deep enough to reach muscle quite like a vaccination or implant. Once the initial puncture was complete, his teeth receding to standard k-9s and the blood starting to flow past his slightly puffy lips and coating his tongue, inducing a groan from him that seemed so animalistic yet erotic at the same time…

The work he was doing with his fingers increased in pace as he sensed you tensing up from the likely pain you were starting to feel, adding an extra finger in and curling his digits pressing against that delicate pressure point inside of you that he knew would drive you crazy. Bloody lips pulled themselves away from your thigh. His gaze stabbed daggers into your expressions, watching the mixture of pain and pleasure overtake you as he spoke “That’s it, focus on me, not on your pain…you’re so good for me…” ironic coming from the guy that’s gripping your thigh as if you could float away and your blood painting his chin. Jongho was growing increasingly hungry but this time in a way that blood wouldn’t be able to satiate, he needed another essence of yours…that however, would take time, he didn’t want to have the whole meal right away.

A knot was quickly forming in your lower half, there was no denying that his hands were like a sculptor making his next piece of art. Pleasure washed over you as you unraveled, causing a smug smirk to decorate his mouth and make his features look all that more proud. The bit of your blood staining his lips was just a cherry on top of the overall look he had as you started to sit back up but your body felt so weak from the feeding and the end of your dry spell. “See, wasn’t so bad was it?” He prided himself in the fact that you wernt crying in pain and still managed to look fucked out from his fingers alone, wiping his mouth and helping you sit up and collect yourself. This rush of dizziness but satisfaction was all you could feel as you reached to grab your panties and slip back into them as he settled himself into the couch, watching your every move but also going back to that damn drink menu. Is this how all the interactions always went or was this only for the first one?

“Do I need to sign anything or is there anything else involved?” This was your way of trying to hint to him that you satisfied but also this lingering sense to be around him, almost like you two have bonded… “No but next time don’t wear lotion, it messes with the taste when I need to bite”. That damn smirk was going to be the end of you but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself mentally at the idea there was going to be a next time. Was it already having an affect on you? Only time will tell but one thing was for sure, this wasn’t going to be the last time you stepped behind that curtain. Now to find Kelly and actually get a club experience in before you needed food to replenish-. Hopefully she was done already, but if she wasn’t, you knew where you could turn…

#mfu-net #cultofdionysusnet #cromernet #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #Jongho #Choi Jongho #jongho fanfic #Jongho fic #Jongho smut #ateez smut

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thosearentcrimes · 2 months

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Read Bring No Clothes by Charlie Porter. If I followed the rule "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything", that would have been the only sentence in the review. Well, really, it wouldn't have existed, implicature is still a form of speech. For a while it didn't exist, since I read this book some time back now, but not out of moral concern, but rather simply because I'm not allowed to use the computers at work for personal shit anymore, and that's where I wrote these. So I finally got around to buying a new e-book reader instead, expect more reviews shortly, written from home this time. But I digress.

Bring No Clothes is a truly awful book about the fashion of the Bloomsbury group. I struggle to think of any redeeming features. It is shorter than the hardback makes it seem, but this is simply false advertising, and not a virtue. It chooses to give each chapter heading its very own entire page to sit on, to blow the letters up to an absurd size with liberal line spacing in the style of a panicking high school student, to pepper the book with black and white photos of dresses remarkable for their color. The hardcover copy I read pretends to have 340 A5 pages, and I would be surprised if it got to 100 with reasonable formatting. In truth it is a nothing but a handful of hastily concatenated half-written filler articles and a couple of unpublishable magazine features stuck between two hard covers for no apparent reason, an unfilmed script for a "video essay" (read: summary) that would be too long to watch and too short to say anything.

It is really quite literally a series of magazine articles. Charlie Porter is a fashion journalist, and his work on the book speaks to his total inability to adjust his writing style to the medium, the astonishingly poor standards in fashion journalism, and the seeming absence of any editing whatsoever on the part of the publisher. Though possibly it was edited, and earlier drafts were even worse. Somehow. There is no coherent theme to the book, no throughline connecting the individual chapters. There are entire chapters that are obviously unnecessary and poorly conceived, which would presumably have been removed if not for the desperate need to pretend the book is so much longer than it really is. Lastly, for some reason image descriptions are done in-line rather than through captions. Is this common in fashion journalism? It sucks to read, in any case.

The writing is shit. It's so unbelievably bad. Borderline unreadable, the structural issues with the book as a whole are reproduced even at the level of individual sentences. Porter's chief flaw is that he is preposterously self-absorbed. He is either unable or unwilling to separate his own impressions and delusions from reality. He spends substantial sections of most chapters writing about the personal experience of researching and writing the book, and plenty of other insufferable personal trivia besides. To pull that trick off without boring the reader takes extraordinary talent, personal charisma, and varied and interesting life experiences, none of which Porter seems to have. Not an amazing range of vocabulary on display either, and somehow I doubt this was a deliberate effort to keep the reading difficulty down. The miserable structure, constant pointless personal asides, and general inability to express what few ideas Porter may or may not have render the book a truly tedious slog.

When reading a non-fiction book, I would like to be able to pick out something I learned about the topic, some basic point of interest. It is impossible in this book, which contains nothing but boring accounts of relationships between seemingly insufferable people. Porter's narration does bring his protagonists to life in places, with some help from direct quotes. Unfortunately, they are brought to life as some of the most annoying egotists you've ever met in your life, which admittedly seems quite plausible for British upper class twits (well, mostly twits). Still, I don't put too much stock in that characterization, as it could very easily be projection by the blatantly self-absorbed author.

I generally try to recommend books to sorts of people who I think would like them, whether or not I was a fan myself. I suspect I am a poor judge of appeal, ultimately, but I try nonetheless. I think nobody should read this book, ever, for any reason. It is not that the book is evil. Reading evil has merit. The book is just bad. There are people who would like it, probably. Those people, in particular, should not read the book, as I suspect it would inhibit their development. Everyone involved in the production and distribution of the book should feel shame proportional to their degree of responsibility for what they have inflicted on the world in general, and on me in particular.

#book report #Bring No Clothes #not gonna author tag #given how hateful I've been that would be unnecessarily rude

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danime25 · 10 months

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Last Christmas

ao3 // normal masterlist // christmas masterlist

*Summary: Colt happened to overhear that there was a gift exchange. What will he do to get involved when he hears a member of the lighting crew shit talking someone else on staff?

*Rating: E for Everyone

*Content/Tags: Bittersweet Ending, Secret Santa

*Status: Oneshot?/Complete

“Ah damn.” Colt’s ears perked up as he overheard one of the lighting guys. He was in between scenes right now and he had another two hours of sitting on set before they’d actually need him for the day. So he did what came naturally to him, snoop.

“What?” The other guy asked, not looking up from the lights he was tweaking

“You know that one PA?”

“There’s a lot of them on set.” The other man rolled his eyes

“The one that hardly talks to anyone, and if she does she covers her mouth with that stupid clipboard she has?”

“Oh that frigid bitch.” His friend laughed. Colt raised an eyebrow. He knew the production assistant that they were talking about. He’d never had a problem with her in the past, and honestly she was probably the nicest member to him. She’d always make sure that he had enough time in between scenes to run to the craft table when he needed some coffee.

“Yeah, her. So I got her for the stupid secret santa. Wanna trade?”

“Hell no. You think I want that bitch who sucked a cock to get her job?”

“Well I don’t want her either, and no one else in lighting fucking wants her.”

“Did you ask the prop department? Someone in there might be desperate enough…”

“I’ll take her.” Colt, who up until then had been silently listening made a couple strides across the way, “I’ll take her for the gift exchange or… whatever.”

“Okay.” The first guy looked him up and down, “Who are you anyway?”

“I’m the stunt guy.” Colt nodded

“Fine. Here. Give me your sheet.” The guy held his hand out

“What sheet?”

“The secret santa sheet.” He rolled his eyes, “Did you even sign up?’ “Yeah. It’s just… in my car.” Colt slid away for a second and pulled a sheet of paper out of a script someone left around. He copied the general format, and wrote down a bullshit name. He strided back in and handed it off to the guy, “There.”

“Thanks.” He looked over it for a second before a runner came and started screaming about how the director needed everyone in lighting over at the other lot. Colt took a look at the sheet that he had tucked in his pocket so as not to get the two confused. He frowned a little bit as he saw how little she wrote. A woman of few words, he guessed. If he was going to get her something she’d like as a thank you for all the coffee breaks on set, he’d have to continue snooping. He looked down at his watch and hurried to the set where his next scene was. She was probably setting up there.

---

Sure enough, he found her pointing directions out to other members of the crew. He could hardly hear her and he was only about 10 feet away. Maybe his eardrums were just shot to hell being next to explosions? He shook his head and walked over to her. He gave her a quick nod. Without missing a beat she quietly said,

“You’re early. You’re never on set early.”

“Yeah. But I’m on time.”

“Last time you were two minutes late.” She looks down at her phone. He sees the music banner on her screen and asked,

“What are you listening to?” He was fishing, but maybe that would give him some ideas about what to get her

“Nothing.” She looked at him, a bit confused. “I was listening to something on my commute.”

“Oh yeah?” He leaned against a cart, only for it to move out from under him. He tipped over slightly before catching his balance and giving her a thumbs up. “That could’ve been bad.”

“Don’t get injured.” She replied. That was nice of her. “Our insurance won’t cover it.”

“Ouch.” He laughed, “I mean you’re probably right.”

“Not probably. I am right.” She sighed, “I appreciate your company, but I really need to finish setting up for the scene… Mark will be mad if I don’t.”

“First name basis with the director?’

She sighed again, even more exhausted, “Listen if those… guys from VFX sent you to spy on me. I swear I’ve never done anything immoral to keep my job… I just come to set, do my job and go home.”

“No that’s not why I’m here…” He tried to explain, but how could he without giving away that he was trying to get her something? “I’ll just… sit over there.”

“Thank you.” Her shoulders loosened up as he sat quietly in the corner of the studio. Other members of the crew filtered in, then the actors paraded in. She started talking with the star about some rewrites the writers had come up with and guided them through it. He crept closer to listen in, given that it might change his performance too. She raised an eyebrow as she saw him move into her line of sight, but decided to not do anything about it until one of the actors piped up about the intrusion. Surprisingly, no one said anything and they got to work filming. The director guided both Colt and the man he was doubling for on how to perform the stunt correctly, the angle and distance the camera would be to ensure no one saw the switch between the two. Colt nodded along as if he were paying attention and his eyes darted back to the PA. She looked to be underlining the script with due diligence.

“And action!”

Colt watched the scene until it was his time to step in. It was a basic fight scene with a fall, easy enough. He landed on the mat perfectly and rested on it for a moment, waiting for his back to crack as he pushed into the plush pad. When he got up he walked back over to behind the camera, seeing her with her teeth pressed down into her lips.

“You okay?” He asked her

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You want some coffee?” He asked in a way that wasn’t really a suggestion. She nodded and he guided her outside the studio. When she knew no one was looking at her she started to sob. Something in Colt’s heart broke seeing her completely shatter that he took her into his arms and held her. She seemed a bit confused by the gesture but wrapped her arms around his and cried. After a couple heaves and a tear stained shirt, he asked, “You want to talk about it?”

“I… sorry this shoot’s been a lot. Doesn’t help that Mark is fucking asshole.”

“Yeah.” He never noticed it, but the director was kind of a raging asshole when he thought about it. “The shoot’s done for the day, right?”

“Yeah.” She sighed, trying to regain her composure

“Why don’t I take you home?’

“Okay,” she said with a little grin. It wasn’t a date, per say. Colt considered it a mission to find out more about her when no one else on set seemed to care. He just knew when he saw something in her house it would click like that.

---

At the Christmas party, Colt was eager to give her her present. He’d grown to really like her and he noticed her more on set. There was some kind of change in her that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. People talked behind her back still, but it was less about her being cold and her being ‘bossy’. Colt shrugged it all off because at the end of the day it really didn’t matter to him. His head kept turning instinctively towards the door every time someone came in, but she was nowhere to be seen. He almost decided to go home when he saw her walk in. Her hair was styled, but the curls were mostly deflated as she played with the ends at her shoulder. He waved at her and she caught his gaze, practically running over to him.

“Hi! So sorry I’m late,” she started to apologize to him, “I know I said I’d be on time…”

“It’s okay.” He smiled

“I just had to make sure my boyfriend, Nick… well he texted me that he had a flat tire…” She explained. Colt’s smile faded. He tried to pretend to be happy for her sake, but he hid the box behind his back.

“Is he okay?” He asked. It was polite, if a bit disinterested

“Yeah, he’s fine. He’s parking my car now.” She replied, looking over her shoulder

“That’s good. Glad you’re alright.”

“Thanks.” She smiled back at him. “Oh there he is.”

“I should let you go then…” He hesitated

“No, you two should meet, I think you’d really like him!” She pulled him over. “Hey hon.”

“There you are.” The other man pressed his lips onto her cheek once, then again on the other side. She hugged him tightly. It wasn’t personal, but Colt couldn’t help but see it as a reminder that she wasn’t his. From the looks of it, she’d never be his. After she pulled out of his reach, she turned to face Colt. She gestured towards her friend on set,

“Hon, this is Colt.”

“Nice to meet you.” Her boyfriend smiled back at him. He looked like he was in another world… Colt really couldn’t blame him. He held his hand out and Colt shook it loosely

“You as well,” He replied. He didn’t have much else to say to her boyfriend but he tried his best to keep a conversation going between the two of them while she went to grab a drink. She managed to find the person on the crew who she was Santa for and gave her her gift. They shared a quick hug and she came back to the two.

“I guess I should tell you, I was your Santa.” Colt rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand

“Oh!” She smiled, “Thank you. I’m sure whatever you got me is nice. You don’t have to give it to me right now if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah, I seemed to misplace it…” He acted like he dropped it when he went to get a drink, but really he left it on the table everyone had discarded their presents on. “I was just gonna head out then. I’m all partied out.”

“Oh. Okay.” She nodded, “I get that… Let me see if I can find my present before you go though. I’ll just hold onto it.”

“Okay.” He smiled at her as she went to find his present. Sure enough, she found the little box and she brought it back with her

“I can’t wait to open it later.” She smiled as she held it between the palms of her hands

“Yeah, I hope you like it.” His words seemed to deflate as they left his lips. He turned around and left the party. He sat in his truck for a moment before riding home alone.

---

The next day that they needed him on set, production had promised it would be his last. He came in with thoughts running through his head. Would she be mad at him? Would she scream ‘how could you give me this’? He wasn’t sure how she’d react. Maybe he didn’t really know her enough to have wanted to ask her for a kiss. He walked into the studio and it felt like nothing had changed. He followed her directions, the scene was shot and it was time to go home. Before he could though, he felt a tug on his shirt sleeve from behind him.

“Hey.” She said

“Hi.” He replied

“I…”

“Listen. I’m sorry about my gift. I just thought that we were getting really close. And I was gonna ask you that night for a kiss.”

“I’m sorry.” She bit her lip, “We’d just gotten together a couple days before the party.”

“Oh.” His heart broke even more. “He seemed really nice though. I hope you’re happy.”

“I am now.” She nodded, “I… don’t think I would have been able to talk to him if we hadn’t met.”

“Oh.”

“That’s to say… I feel like I owe you something.”

“Whatever it is, let’s just call it even,” he took her hand off of him

“No I mean… Colt.”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe… maybe it could have worked out.” She said after a moment of silence lingered in between them. She leaned in and pressed her lips onto his. He pulled away from her and looked at her. He had to walk away otherwise he’d never be able to live with the feeling in his chest of tearing her away from her happy ending. He dryly laughed and said,

“Well at least we weren’t under the mistleto…” She pulled the gift box from out of her pocket and held it out for him to see. He turned his back on her and walked away. She didn’t try to chase after him. Maybe they were better off this way after all.

#colt seavers #colt seavers x reader #wow my first one and it's light angst #humor and angst #light angst #my fic #my fic writing #my fanfic #the fall guy #the fall guy 2024 #ryan gosling character #ryan gosling #12 days of goosemas

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psychedelic-ink · 10 months

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We Fall Like Snow ║ Part VI

After the events that took place at the Cliff Beasts set, needless to say as his bodyguard (and friend) you became overprotective of Dieter. You have all your worries under control until you accidentally flip over a young fan by grabbing her wrist, causing the media to stir with speculations as to why. Luckily Dieter's family arrives in the nick of time, scooping you both from New York to their cozy cabin; however, winter wonderland can't last forever and you need to face the consequences of your actions sooner or later.

pairing: Dieter Bravo x bodyguard!ofc; Amina Addams, written in reader format

chapter summary: You and Dieter return home.

word count: 3.2k

chapter warnings: male masturbation, phone sex (not with amina)

a/n: here we go the first official newly written chapter dfvfdv thank you to all those who reread and to those who has been following the series for the first time, we only have two chapters left to the end!

**dividers by the amazing @saradika

Dieter strokes himself faster, harder. His eyes are glued to the scene playing out on his tiny phone screen, he tries not to think about anything else. Just focuses on Eduardo sucking on Isabel’s sweet puffy clit. She moans loudly, a luxury Dieter doesn’t currently have. He hates the way the wires of his earphones keep accidentally swaying in front of the phone. Through gritted teeth, he lets out a hiss. He swipes the head of his cock with his palm, slicking himself up with precome.

“Finger her,” he says with a hushed tone. “Make her beg for it, Eduardo. Bite the inside of her thigh.”

Isabel's red hair drapes over the pillow as she lets out a sharp cry, thrusting against Eduardo’s fingers. They’re both way too pretty. He’s still clueless as to how he managed to get them to sleep with him. A mess of a man.

His balls tighten and his thoughts momentarily drift to you, to the masked ball. How it looked like you wanted to say more but he fucked the words right out of your throat instead. He remembers the way your cunt squeezed him tight, pulsing around his cock. Dieter shudders. Why the hell didn’t he bring one of his dildos? He desperately needs to fuck himself with something thick right about now. Something that would make him forget. And cry a little bit.

Isabel comes with a shudder, her thick thighs pressing against both sides of Eduardo’s face, his moan becomes louder as he continues to devour her, working her toward another orgasm. Dieter nears the edge himself. He starts thrusting into his fist, the slick sounds echoing within his room. He licks his lips, desperate to taste something—anything. He so desperately wants to please someone right now, to be someone’s good boy.

“You going to come for us baby?”

Isabel’s soft voice draws him away from his thoughts, his eyes find her’s on the screen, his cock pulses heavily between his legs, “Yeah sweetheart. Want me to make a mess?”

She nods eagerly, her lips parting as Eduardo parts away from her pretty pussy. He latches on to one of her nipples, sucking hard, grinding into the soft covers. Dieter’s gaze drops to Eduardo’s ass. He looks good like that. If he was there he would give him the prettiest teeth marks—

His chest heaves, cock throbbing heavily in his hand, he slows down the jerks of his hand. He loves teasing himself. Loves that warmth spreading throughout his stomach, loves the way precome just oozes out of the tip, going down his knuckles. The more he impedes his nearing orgasm, the more likely he’ll make a mess, just like Isabel asked.

Vaguely Dieter can hear both his lovers moaning his name, kissing, stroking each other. He doesn’t focus on the screen. His eyes flutter closed. Your body appears within his closed eyelids, he thinks about how good your fingers would feel in his tight little asshole, how you would call him yours—

“Fuck—!”

Thick ropes of come splatters over his chest, stomach, some of it even manages to land on his neck, heavily sliding down the thick column. He shudders and opens his eyes. He stares at the small image of himself. He’s still coming, still fucking his first. More and more and more. Thick come rolls down his knuckles, forming a decent puddle at the base of his cock. Both Eduardo and Isabel are staring with heavy-lidded eyes.

He drags his hand away from his sensitive cock and palms the mess over his chest. Dieter gatherers himself on his fingers, slipping the wet digits into his mouth. He moans at the taste spreading across his tongue.

He’s still not satisfied. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be again.

You feel like an asshole.

You are an asshole.

You were hoping to stay in your room until the car picked you and Dieter up and took you to the airport. But of course, Adaline had other plans for your last day together. A spa day. You don’t remember the last time you’ve been to anywhere so fancy alone.

You didn’t enjoy leaving things with Dieter on such a sour note. And it was your fault it ended up so complicated. You knew one of you had to be the responsible one—which, evidently, meant you. You panicked when Dieter started talking about a relationship, no matter how hard it tried it wouldn’t have worked out. This was the right call. Sooner or later he would accept that. The headache from the press wasn’t worth it.

You weren’t worth it.

“Are you ready dear?”

You jerk at the sound of Adaline’s cheery voice. Quickly you wrap yourself with a bathrobe and tighten the belt. The fabric feels like heaven on your skin. “Coming,” you call out, opening the door.

Adaline leads the way down a corridor adorned with soothing artwork and dimmed lights, creating an ambiance of tranquility. The air is filled with a delicate fragrance, a blend of lavender and eucalyptus that immediately relaxes your tense shoulders. The plush carpet beneath your feet absorbs your steps, muffling the sounds of the outside world.

As you pass by intricately designed wooden doors, you catch glimpses of serene rooms with plush massage tables. Soft music plays in the background.

Adaline smiles at you, “It’s a shame you two are leaving early.”

The sincerity in her voice tugs at your heartstrings.

“I do too but you have a famous son who has his movie premiere soon,” you answer with mirth. “He can’t miss it.” Was that harsh? Maybe it was harsh?

“Well, regardless I’m happy we’re able to do this just you and I—without the boys,” her laughter bounces off the walls, her joy infectious as your lips curl upwards. “They’re always so chaotic.”

“I would say.” Just as you’re about to enter the room designated for you, she delicately takes hold of your shoulder. Worry knots in your stomach and you quickly turn, thinking of the worst, however, she’s still smiling. Looking a bit teary.

“I do hope we see more of you. I can see the effect you have on him. I’ve never seen him lit up as much before since he was a little boy.”

You don’t know what to say—what can you say? You end up nodding with a smile that you hope comes across as kind. She squeezes your shoulder twice before letting go, “See you in a bit.”

Adaline chooses a room adjacent to yours, and you both settle in for a well-deserved escape from reality.

The massage rooms are the embodiment of comfort, each one softly lit with scented candles. The air carries a hint of essential oils, and as you enter your designated room, a wave of relaxation washes over you. The massage table beckons, adorned with crisp, clean linens.

The masseuses enter, quietly getting to work. You feel a bit awkward as you peel off your robe; this pampering thing is not exactly your usual scene. The room is calm, though, and the lighting is soft enough to make you forget about the nerves.

They give you a nod, a silent assurance, and you lie down on the massage table. They cover your hips with a cozy blanket. The whole room smells like a mix of fancy oils.

Their hands start working, and at first, it's a bit odd. You're not used to people kneading your muscles like dough. But slowly, the tension in your shoulders starts to give way. The knots are stubborn, but they seem to know what they're doing.

The masseuses focus on your upper back, their thumbs pressing along both sides of your spine with just the right amount of pressure. It's a peculiar sensation—fingers dancing over muscles that have been tense for longer than you'd care to admit. But as they work their way down, it's like they're unraveling the stress, one knot at a time.

There's a moment when their skilled hands find a particularly tight spot, and a small involuntary moan escapes your lips. It surprises you, but it also feels strangely liberating. You let out another quiet sigh as their thumbs continue to trace the contours of your back, coaxing the tension away.

You find yourself sinking deeper into the massage table. And your thoughts.

Of course, you’re thinking about him. How could you not? You wonder about what he might be doing this very second. Is he in his room? On the phone? Packing?

Probably not the latter—if you’re being completely honest.

As the masseuse's fingers dig into your flesh, you imagine how it would be like if it was Dieter instead. His hands stroking your sweat-soaked body after he worked his cock into you so thoroughly. Making you shudder against him god knows how many times. His hands would feel like heaven on you. He’d have a teasing lilt to his tone, his voice nothing but gravel—the sound would make you want to take him into your mouth. Licking him clean.

Fuck. This is not the time nor the place for thoughts like this. You feel yourself tensing again, wetness gathering between your folds. You take a breath and close your eyes. You can’t think about that. Forget the fact that you’re getting a massage, you can’t think about it because it’s never going to happen again.

Anxiety claws its way into your heart. You don’t have it in you to regret what had happened but you’re also not sure if it was worth the damage it caused. You don’t know what to do with yourself if you lose Dieter as a friend.

Hopefully, he’ll be in a better mood when you return home.

Everything will be normal then. It has to be.

You’re practically glowing when you enter the cabin with Adaline right behind you. Both of you are. You feel soft and gooey from being molded and exfoliated. Your body is humming, tingling, and the smell of the spa is still tickling your nose. All you want to do is sleep, but sadly you have packing to do.

“Thank you for the amazing day Adaline,” you say, watching her as she heads to the kitchen where Claus is preparing sandwiches for you and Dieter. You told him he didn’t have to but he insisted. She gives him a tender kiss, the gesture waking something like longing deep in your gut. “I feel like a cat under a sunbeam.”

“It was my pleasure dear—”

It seems like she’s about to say something else but Claus cuts in, “Before you leave I want to talk to you, sweetheart. Don’t take too long packing.”

“Oh. . . okay.”

He lets out an endearing chıckle, “Nothing bad. I promise.”

“Alright then,” you say, lips cracking into a smile. You head to your room, but at the last second, you decide to go to Dieter's room. The door is closed. He probably doesn’t want to see you, or anyone else for that matter. You press your lips together, knuckles hovering an inch away from the door as you try to decide on what to do.

You start tracing letters into the corner of your palm with the edge of your thumb. Faint music comes from the other side. That should mean he’s in a better mood right? God, you hate this. You hate not knowing how to act around him anymore.

Taking a deep breath, you knock softly.

"Come in."

The door creaks open, revealing him in the midst of packing. He looks up, and his face is motionless. Frightening, considering it’s Dieter.

“Hey,” you mumble, suddenly unsure of why you decided to come to his room.

Dieter sets aside a pair of folded jeans, his eyes meeting yours. "Hey yourself," he replies.

“So…how’s packing?”

How’s packing? What kind of question was that? What the hell is wrong with you?

He almost looks pained. He fully turns. Broad chest facing yours. Your mouth goes dry and you’re suddenly very aware of the thoughts you had during your massage.

“Look, Amina,” he says, slowly and exasperated. “We don’t need to talk about anything. You made your intentions completely clear. You don’t need to come and check in on me. I’m not that big of an idiot, I fucking know how to pack a suitcase.”

Normally you would make a joke about how he actually doesn’t know how to pack a suitcase but you bite your tongue. “I just wanted to make sure if we’re okay.”

“Describe okay?”

“The…same as before.”

“So friends?”

“Yeah.”

He sighs and you don’t like what that implies. Your stomach clenches, all the knots the masseuses worked so hard to melt forming again.

“Sure,” he answers blandly. “We’re friends. I just need some time.”

“Time for what?” You hate how high and patchy you sound but you can’t help it. You need things to return to normal. And you need them to return to normal now. You can’t take it. Every time you look at him a part of you breaks.

Dieter starts towards you until he’s an inch away. You feel his warm breath on your skin. Your chest heaves. He’s close. Close enough to kiss.

However, when you lift your gaze and meet his, you know whatever is about to come out of his mouth won’t be tender.

It’ll be cruel.

“Time to forget that you’re a friend that I fucked,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “Things aren’t the same anymore. You told me you didn’t want me. You told me you’d rather have my dick than have to deal with me. So yeah, I’m gonna need a bit of fucking time if that’s okay with you.”

Yeah, you deserve that. Even though that’s not something that you said. On the contrary, you care too much. But him being angry is probably the better outcome with everything that is going on.

“Yeah okay,” you take a swift breath. “For what it’s worth it wasn’t about not wanting to deal with you. I— I don’t want you to think I don’t care about you. I do.”

He scoffs, “Just not enough to want to be with me.”

“You know it’s a complicated situation. Don’t pretend that it isn’t. I work for you. You’re my client.”

Dieter doesn’t reply so you take that as your cue to leave. You’re hoping what you said registers in his head. This isn’t about not wanting him, because you do, it’s about the press, his reputation—your reputation. It’s too complicated.

You close the door behind you and immediately you regret it. Some part of you wants to go back, rip the door from its hinges, and fall to your knees. You want to cry until you’re dried out, beg him for a hug, for a touch. . . but you know that’s not in the cards for you two. Dieter isn’t the type to think things through. Sadly, that’s your job, literally.

With a deep sigh that makes your chest ache, you head to your room to pack.

It’s snowing again. The air crisp and rejuvenating. You grip the wooden railing, watching as the soft flakes hover down from the sky. The horizon is buried in white. A sight that makes your heart flutter and heart grow three sizes. It’s a shame you’re leaving in about an hour. You’ve gotten used to the homeyness.

Claus stands next to you, gloved hands curling around the fencing. He’s staring at the horizon as well.

“I bet you’re wondering why I wanted to talk to you.”

When you turn to face him, you see the older man smiling. His profile is the same as Dieter. So much so that you don’t need to imagine how the actor would look like in his old age. “A bit, yeah,” you answer softly. Not wanting to seem rude. “I’m just hoping you’re not about to tell me I’m forbidden to ever step foot into your house again.”

He snorts, “Of course not. How could I say that to the person who makes my son so happy.”

Oh god.

You’ve seen enough movies to know where this conversation is going.

Your heart already begins to crumble.

They don’t know how hurt their son is because of you.

“I wanted to thank you,” he continues. “I know things might not be squeaky clean because of. . . everything in both your careers but love finds a way. I’m sure you noticed but he cares about things more than he lets on. He thinks no one wants him. But they do—don’t they?”

You were a fool to think that his parent had no clue about what was going on. They know. Claus knows. His lips curl a little bit higher as he turns to you, fixing his gaze, he shoots you a knowing look. The silence grows and you realize he’s expecting—no demanding, an answer.

“They do,” you answer, mouth going dry. “I do.”

“Good. Now—” You’re taken aback when he suddenly throws his arm over your shoulder, pulling you close. “I’m going to let you on a little secret our surname isn’t actually Bravo.”

You choke, “Excuse me?”

He’s very pleased by himself as he pulls back, a huge grin plastered across his face. Claus winks at you as he mouths, “It’s Lobpreis, I changed it to Bravo before Dieter was born. I wanted it to be something catchy, something memorable.”

“Does—Does he know?”

“Wouldn’t be much of a secret if he did,” he guides you inside. “Now let’s send you guys off. I can feel my adorable son glaring holes into my head.”

You notice him when the heat of the inside engulfs you. Dieter is at the door, brows pinched together, his dark eyes gleaming with both curiosity and annoyance. Before you acknowledge him, you turn back to Claus. “Why did you tell me?”

Claus chuckles, giving you a playful nudge. "Why not? I figured it's time you knew a little bit more about the family you're getting involved with. Plus, it's always fun to keep things interesting."

You don’t get a chance to ask him how this makes things interesting, or why he assumes you’d be getting involved with the family—you’re too busy trying to conceal the fact that your body is burning from being called out so thoroughly. You clear your throat and with a curt nod, you take your place next to Dieter. You see the car waiting for you outside. You also notice Everett chugging one of your suitcases into the trunk, Adaline is with him, chatting about god knows what.

The three of you hurry down the steps, snow crunching under your boots, you hug Adaline first, then head towards Everett who is smiling big. “Don’t be a stranger now,” he says wrapping his arms around you.

“I won’t,” you answer, voice muffled against his chest.

“Call us when you get to the airport,” Adaline warns Dieter. “Don’t make me worry like last time.”

“I won’t Mom.”

You want to ask what happened last time but you don’t get the chance as Claus comes in for a hug. “Take good care of him,” he whispers. “Or else.”

“Or else?” you chuckle, eyebrows raising. “You do know what I do for a living right?”

“I have to say it. It’s in the dad rulebook.”

You nod and laugh, trying very hard to ignore the knots in your stomach as the dreaded moment of getting in the car with Dieter approaches. The trunk is shut tight and before you can stall you’re being rushed into the vehicle.

“Have a safe trip now,” Adaline says one more time.

And just like that the cozy winter wonderland slowly becomes small, fading behind a curtain of falling snow. You turn to look at Dieter but he’s looking out the window.

Your hands curl into fists on your lap. The small Kit Kat bar feeling heavy in your pocket. You were hoping to give it to him, to try and smooth things over—to prove that you still care.

But by his tense shoulders and the way he has his face pressed against the icy cold window, you know fixing things won’t be as easy as throwing a Kit Kat bar at shards of glass.

Only time can heal those types of wounds.

#dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x fem!reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x ofc #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo x f!oc #the bubble fic #dieter bravo fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #christmas fic

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leurdhavemerky · 5 months

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Hello,little goofy goober!I hope this ask finds you well!How about Viktor with a reader who is passionate about researching the worst of the worst of humanity in an effort to understand the world better and possibly help,who comes to him when it all gets too much,too heavy,too ugly just to remind herself of the beauty of the world as well?

Flame vs. Fissure

Summary: When her research becomes too taxing and troublesome, she wanders off to Viktor's favorite spot in hopes of finding comfort.

Contains: Reader x Viktor, hurt/comfort, light to mild angst, reader with she/her pronouns, fluff, LIGHT SPOILERS

A/N: The clocktower ledge referred to is the same place where Heimerdinger spoke to Viktor, where Viktor and Jayce chatted during the sunsets in act 3.

I think I formatted the dialogue right but, there is bound to be a mistake or two. Also, thank you to this asker I had so much fun!

Word Count: 825

Shimmer was being passed out to sickly fiends like candy. Broken glass littered the ground, puncturing her boots- and cutting those without. Every time (Y/N) had walked up to someone optimistically, pen and pad in hand, she was quickly brushed off. Or spat on. Or shoved. Most notably, called a "topside swindler" by a dealer.

Defeated and tired of being on her aching feet for hours, she trudges back to her office at the academy.

Her poor journal, being slammed onto the table that way. Nails dig into the leather cover, injecting it with heartache. She sinks into a chair, depressed.

The plan was to survey Zaunites. To better understand their struggles- mainly with the fissures. She was going to convince the council to set aside money for repair. So much of the Undercity's air pollution related sickness was the result of toxic gas leaking from those openings in the ground.

Now, without testimonials and evidence, the grant was slipping out of her fingers. More people would have to ruin their lungs and waste away for years to come. Nothing made (Y/N) feel more trapped than trying to help... only to be pushed away. It was miserable, seeing that much darkness in the world, and realizing her lighter is empty.

There was only one person who she could count on- who knew exactly how that felt.

When he wasn't slaving away in the lab, Viktor spent his sunsets out on the ledge towards the top of the clock tower. Its overgrown vines and worn charm were rare in the overly aestheticized city of progress.

Rhythmically shifting gears and cogs calmed Viktor's nerves. He found great comfort staring out into the expanse of Piltover.

The walk up to clock tower felt drawn out and tiring, like the oxygen had been sucked out of the atmosphere. The survey failed so, so terribly. The downright disturbing sights in the Undercity were still ruminating in the back of her mind.

Turning the corner, she sighs. She takes a soft step onto the ledge where Viktor stood, silently admiring the picturesque scene.

"Sorry- I didn't mean to interrupt your pondering," she states, breaking the silence.

He turns his neck to look at you, cat-like irises illuminated by the rays of the setting sun. A little smile cracks as he turns around.

"No worries, I was looking for someone to talk to."

"It's just- I'm having issues with getting the grant for fissure repair. It was embarrassing, how futile I felt."

"You've been surveying the Undercity all week, no?"

"I've tried," she whispers with a waver, "I just wasn't... welcomed."

He softens his gaze when he hears the strain in her voice.

"What went wrong, dove?" Viktor asks, stepping closer with concern.

A salty tear trickles down as her face contorts with anxiety. Her vision blurs and more water pours out, washing the rosy sunset from sight.

"It's all too heavy. I can't- I can't do this anymore. I spent months researching and begging," she whispers, choked up. "I just want the council to give the Undercity a chance." Her throat tightens as she looks down, avoiding Viktor's eyes.

He puts an end to it- tilting her chin back to him with a finger. Viktor wipes the glistening tears with his thumb, caressing her cheek with warm hands.

"Enough worrying. Come close to me dove," he speaks with a tender tone. Holding onto your waist with a gentleman's touch, his chest expands with a deep inhale. "This cycle of death and disease, it is not your fault," Viktor breathes, "you are simply trying your best. It is all you can do."

"That's the problem. I'm only able hold one candle, I can't light a whole city by myself," she whispers, sullen. Her hands find Viktor's shoulders as she sighs.

"You do not realize how bright your flame is, (Y/N)."

A silence hangs in the air as the sun begins hanging lower in the sky. She leans in and rests her head over Viktor's shoulder, The light pink hues have turned to deep oranges, and birds have soared back to their nests.

After the two give each other an, "I know, love" kind of gaze, they slowly pull away. Coming to the edge of the risky platform, they watch the rainbow light show nature has put on just for them until the stars poke through.

"The world is much more beautiful with your fire- your passion. It is too late to quit your research. The time is now," Viktor urges. He gestures out to Piltover's skyline, tracing along. Smokestacks from the Undercity rise higher.

The tears have subsided, only light stains on (Y/N)'s face as she feels the cool wind dry what's left. Her hair lifts slightly as a calming breeze blows through.

She says with determination, "I'll consult the council as soon as possible. I'm going to repair the fissures, even if I have to lay concrete myself."

#arcane #arcane viktor x reader #viktor x reader #viktor arcane #arcane viktor #arcane fanfic #arcane fic #arcane league of legends #arcane fluff #fanfic

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bloopitynoot · 1 year

Text

Shadowgast Corporate/Office-Au Rec List!

Hello I'm back again with more disaster wizard (well and in this case working professional but more office-like setting) recommendations!

This list is a little bit more bawdy than normal (I love a good smut fic, but I also try to vary the ratings on these lists for those who may not share my enthusiasm).

If you want to see my other shadowgast rec lists- they are linked at the end of this post. ANYWAYS- let's get into it!

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1 As per my last email

As per my last email (11651 words) by LivThael (I don't think they are on Tumblr- if they do please comment so I can tag- but they have a twitter listed in the notes of the fic) Chapters: 11/11 Rating: Explicit Summary: Essek Thelyss is an asshole with a questionable taste in spreadsheets. Caleb Widogast has more important and certainly more interesting things to do than filing travel expense claims. A series of mails turns into a escalating meeting. Or: Please stop writing me emails, I genuinely hate you. - Explicit content only in chapter 10.

What I loved: Anyone who has worked in an office knows a passive aggressive email when they get one. Plus we have the added bonus of having to deal with accounting to get expenses covered- ugh, so good. The energy of these passive aggressive- yet flirty workplace emails between new hire Caleb and kind-of-an-asshole Essek in accounting is *chefs kiss*. The build up to their meeting was written so well! I also really love the way the fic is formatted- the email style gives it an immersive feel.

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2 Paradigm Shift

Paradigm Shift (114,291 words) by full_time_dreamer_behold (I don't know their tumblr, please totally feel free to tag if they have one- i'll add it). Chapters: 28/28 Rating: Teen and up Audiences Summary: Recently moved to Rosohna, Caleb accepts a job at a prestigious law firm, but the work turns out to be menial and dull. Thankfully, his life takes a turn when he makes new friends and starts taking a curious interest in the IT Manager- the handsome and intriguing Essek Thelyss. Could he be reason enough for Caleb to stay in this place? He certainly intends to find out.

A friends-to-idiots-to-lovers slow burn with a sweet ending.

What I loved: This was such a lovely slow burn. It covers hard topics in a corporate kind of setting including racism, nepotism, and power dynamics that really suck but it handled with care and well written. I also really love the disability representation here! This slow burn is so so good, I super recommend! Also bonus it's the length of a beefy novel!

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3 the golden thread around your neck whispered visions of my undoing

the golden thread around your neck whispered visions of my undoing (172812 words) by MarsBar2019 (If you know Mars' tumblr please comment and I will tag- I couldn' find it in the notes). Chapters: 38/? Rating: Explicit Summary: Caleb Widogast does not belong here. The world of sharp suits, board meetings, and billion dollar budgets is a far cry from Caleb’s preferred domain: the research lab. Where nobody cares about his faded T-shirts and raggedy jeans. But a year of industry experience will look good on his CV, and the hefty pay bump wouldn’t hurt either. How hard could a secretary gig be? What he finds behind the glittering edifice of Auriga, Wildemount’s leading name in arcane technology, is CEO Essek Thelyss, who maintains his domain with an acid tongue and an iron fist. It’s difficult not to find him intriguing, this handsome, guarded, brilliant man. It’s even more difficult not to want to please him. Caleb knows to keep it professional, though. Working late nights together at the office and lingering glances here and there don’t cross the boundaries of propriety. That is, until they do.

Or: the one where Essek Thelyss loses focus and has a consensual workplace relationship.

Updates weekly on Mondays.

E-rated chapters: Ch. 4, 9, 13, 14, 17, 18, 22-23, 26, 32, 38

Why I love it: Out of all the recs this one is the SPICIEST (and I love that). Head the warnings - there may be stuff that isn't for you, but if you, like me, enjoy a 6/5 spicy level fic- congrats this one will not disappoint. This story is in progress but updates weekly which is fantastic. We have big time and hot mess CEO Essek and his personal assistant disaster bisexual Caleb- of course it's an HR scandal waiting to happen, but also, Essek might come out a better person for it. I cannot recommend this enough, this fic is so so good. In addition to the smut, it's also just a really fantastic story.

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4 sleep, with benefits

sleep, with benefits (62272 words) by KmacKatie @kmackatie Chapters: 12/12 Rating: Explicit Summary: Caleb Widogast wakes up from the first good night of sleep in far too long. It takes him a moment to realise it's because he's not in his bed. Is it the better mattress (lump-free and like a cloud), or the fact he drunkenly slept with Essek Thelyss, the colleague he's been secretly crushing on for the last six months?

Why I loved it: Let me just start off by saying kmackatie is brilliant and everything shadowgast that katie writes makes my heart sing. In this fic Essek and Caleb are captured so well- they are both big idiots who act like scared cats around one another (even though they both want the same thing) but honestly- can there be any other dynamic? This hot mess of them not using their words eventually leads to the best of endings and you should all read it because it is so lovely.

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BONUS FIC: (high school teachers, less corporate feel, but not what I would throw on a professor or academia list so its a bonus for this one).

5 all this science i don't understand

all this science i don't understand (8858 words) by mllekurtz @mllekurtz Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Mature Summary: Caleb knew how he was with crushes, he was aware that historically they’ve brought him nothing but trouble, and vowed that he wasn’t going to develop one on his new colleague. This resolution lasted a remarkable twenty-four hours. * Small-town high school science teacher Caleb Widogast has his life more or less figured out, or so he thinks. Then an unexpected variable gets thrown into the equation in the form of the new addition to the teaching staff: the handsome and clever Essek Thelyss.

Why I loved it: This fic was so sweet. I have a soft spot for fics that play with chronology in their story telling and this one does a bit of that. It is a shorter read but honestly that works really well for this love story. Caleb of course falls hard and fast and Essek does not mind at all. Some angst, but they are written so well and so soft, Brilliant <;3

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My Other Shadowgast Rec lists:

Shadowgast fics that made me ugly cry

Shadowgast Space Opera-AU list

Shadowgast Bakery/Coffee/Tea Shop-AUs

As usual I devour all fics shadowgast so if there is a rec list you want to read that is tried and true- dm me or leave a comment. I always prefer to use my librarian degree for chaotic neutral purposes so hmu.

[I am totally thinking about doing a Professor/Researcher OR College-AU OR Time is a Weird Soup list next but we shall see!]

#shadowgast fic recs #shadowgast #for the shadowgast shippers #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #critical role #critical role fan fiction #mighty nein #cr 2 #I honestly love making these lists so much #if you have a theme you like to read let me know #I will totally make you a personalized list

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jasntodds · 1 year

Text

Petrichor Chapter 6 Teaser - Full Chapter coming 08/09

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb) Teaser Words: 1,648 Chapter Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst, ptsd, panic attack, blood, canon violence, bruises Summary:❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞ Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now. A/N: I've been rearranging chapters 6-9 because of what I want to happen in chapter 7 so here we are with a teaser lol If the format is wonky, I'm sorry. I literally hate this post editor with a burning passion and it's giving me all of the problems atm You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

It wasn’t that Jason was violent. That was never it. He could pick a fight just as good as the next person. But it was out of survival. It wasn’t because he liked the bloody and bruised knuckles. Or coming back with his body covered in shades of navy and maroon and the pain that went along with it. It was how he had to survive. Fight or die. Fight or let people take advantage of him.

He was small. He got lucky he grew taller as he got older but he was a small kid. It was either learn to fight and take what he could or get taken advantage of or die trying. It was learn to fight and hold his own or deal with whatever his dad would dish out or the new guy his mom brought home that didn’t really like kids. It was never that he wanted to be violent.

He was just angry with the world. Robin gives him the outlet. Robin lets him be violent in a way that’s productive. Robin lets him choose violence. Robin lets him pick fights that matter. Robin lets him let the anger and the violent side of him be a good thing instead of something that hinders him and something people find to be annoying and a nuisance. Robin has given him so fucking much including that outlet and he can’t lose it. And he just gets so fucking mad when he thinks about it. He's mad about it being taken away and mad at Bruce and a little mad at you for getting to use his outlet as your own, even when he knows that’s not fair.

It's the anger that always got the best of him. Not the violence.

“Where’s your head, Jay?” You ask, looking over your shoulder from the targets as Jason sits on the floor behind you.

Jason snaps away from his thoughts, looking over to you. “What?” He furrows his brows up at you.

“You're quiet and you’re never quiet unless something is bothering you.”

It's only been a few days but you know him better than anyone. It's been rough for him not having Robin. He wasn't Robin, technically, in San Francisco. He wasn't supposed to be anyway. He was supposed to be taking a break but that didn't seem to bother him as much as it does now. You're not entirely sure what the difference is this time but whatever it is, you've got this feeling that there's something more going on. Something's poking at his head.

Jason shakes his head. “Want to get back out there.” Jason scoffs.

You nod. “Yeah…” You suck in a breath, looking at your target full of knives before you move to sit in front of him. You match his position, stretching your legs out right beside his with your hands on the floor behind you to hold your weight. “You sure it doesn’t bug you I go out?” You ask.

Of course, it bothers him. That's his thing. But, it's yours, too. Maybe it wouldn't sting as much if you weren't going out with Bruce. But, there's nothing he can do about it and it would be wrong for him to even try. So, he bites his tongue about it.

“It’s fine, it’s your thing, too.”

You shake your head. “Yeah, but if it bothers you, I can wait until you get Robin back or I can just go out on my own.” You offer.

The first night Jason was benched, Bruce asked if you'd still join I'm for patrol. Jason assured you it was fine. So, you went and you talked later about it. He swore up and down it would be fine. You like to go out on patrol. You like to help people and who is he to try and take that away from you? You'd never do that to him.

“You think Bruce will be okay with that? You going out on your own?” Jason quips.

You grin before you let out a laugh. “Well, probably not anymore.”

Jason furrows his brows, his eyes scanning over your face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You bounce around how to tell him about your conversation with Bruce earlier without including the stuff about him. It's hard because on the one hand, you respect Bruce but on the other, he can be a little insufferable. And Jason looks up to him for reasons you don't really think you'll entirely understand. It's not your place to speak poorly of him to Jason. So, you tell him but you hope he doesn't ask what sparked the conversation in the first place.

“We, uh, we had a moral disagreement today.” You chew the inside of your cheek as you raise your brows.

“Ah,” Jason nods his head. “That why you don’t wanna go out tonight?” The moral disagreement doesn't surprise him. He knows how you feel about all of it but he is a little surprised you even brought up to Bruce.

“Amongst a few other things but yeah. I think he might think I’ll kill people now.” You roll your eyes.

Jason lets out a snort. “What the hell did you even say to make him think that?” Jason shakes his head. “Wait, let me guess.”

“I’m listening.” You gesture a hand for him to continue.

Jason clears his throat. “You should kill the Joker. He’s a piece of shit maniac clown who kills people for fun. He should be dead.” Jason grins at you. “Sound about right?”

“Shut the fuck up.” You groan through a laugh as you tilt your head back. “No.” You shake your head at him. "I said he was a homicidal, psychotic, sadist." You state. "And that he should die, yes." You mutter softly while Jason lets out a booming laugh.

He is certain you'll never let it go which he doesn't blame you for. He gets it. He doesn't like his dad but a part of him still wanted to go after Two-Face. Dick went after Zucco. Parents are killed and their kids want to take revenge. But, he also knows you and he doesn't think you'd ever actually try to kill anyone, but especially the Joker. You have more self-preservation than that.

“And he said something about we don’t cross that line or whatever?”

“Yep.” Your eyes widen as you nod your head. “Him and Dick think it’s ridiculous as if Dick didn’t feel that same way, ya know? But it’s the Joker. So, uh, I might have said his death is inevitable.” You scrunch your nose and maybe that was the wrong choice of words.

Jason eyes you carefully and there is something going on with you, too. It's one thing to have the moral disagreement with Bruce but to actually say anyone's death in inevitable seems a little off. Jason's so wrapped in his own anger, he's started to wonder if he's missing anything with you.

“Okay seriously, what the fuck is going on?” Jason nudges your leg with his.

“Nothing. I don’t think I really meant it or anything but I kind of wonder if Bruce thinks I’m serious and thinks I’m like a ticking time bomb or something.” You roll your eyes.

“Did he take the shit from you? The suit or anything?” Jason questions and he is getting increasingly more curious what even started that whole conversation and got you mad enough to say anything to Bruce.

“No. Why?”

“Then he doesn’t think you’re gonna out and kill people.” Jason chuckles. “He'd take it away and send you to Leslie if he thought you were serious.”

“Oh, well that’s a relief.” You chuckle softly. “Still don’t wanna go out tonight though.” You shake your head.

Jason pulls his legs to his chest, resting his forearms over his knees. "What started the whole conversation anyway? Did something happen?"

You pause and you hate lying to him. It's the one thing you really don't do with him. But, telling him why Bruce even talked to you, that just doesn't seem fair. You worry he might take Bruce's concern the wrong way. Maybe it'll send him spiraling even further. Maybe it's best if you just keep that to yourself.

"Nothing." You shake your head. "It's nothing, really." You assure him before you suck in a breath. “Seriously though, if you have a problem with me going out, you can tell me.”

The switch back the topic at hand does not go unnoticed and that's also uncharacteristic of you lately. You tell him everything that bothers you and what leads to it bothering you.

"Right, no. I said it's fine." Jason states. "If something's going on with you, you'd tell me, right?" Jason questions.

You nod your head. "Of course. Nothing's, uh, nothing's going on. You need to stop worrying." You offer him a cheeky grin and he knows you're lying. "Look, Jay, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't stand a chance out there. I know it's hard being benched and I don't wanna make it harder for you."

He knows you're lying but he can't figure out why you would lie to him about something like that. It doesn't seem important or serious enough to need a lie. Maybe a part of him is even hurt you won't tell him. But, he knows it's not fair to push because you don't push him when he's adamant about not tellin you. He hopes you'll tell him later when it's not so fresh.

Jason scoots closer to you, resting a hand on your thigh. “I’m fine, alright? Go out kick and some ass, with or without Bruce.” Jason grins at you. “Stop worrying so much.”

“I’ll always worry, I love you.” You smile wildly at him.

“Yeah, I love you, too.” Jason chuckles softly. “Im fine, I’ll be back out there in no time.”

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#jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fanfic #jason todd series #red hood x reader #red hood fanfic #red hood fanfiction #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #titans fanfic #titans fanfiction

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coughsyrep · 2 years

Text

Fluffernutter Sandwich

Summary: Natasha is shot during a mission, and you are the surgeon that tends to her. Afterwards, upon seeing her in a distressed state despite the procedure going well, you also tend to Wanda.

Chapter 5

1587 words

Link to AO3 if you prefer that format:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39221235/chapters/110067183

If you’d prefer to read it here:

In general, if one were in a great deal of discomfort, possibly because they had just been involved in a terroristic attack the previous day and were injured, they would do something to alleviate that pain. And under normal circumstances you would, except you couldn’t bring yourself to move when the two women who you really needed to discuss relationship labels with were lying right beside you, Wanda’s warm breath grazing over the skin of your neck, half of her body now covering yours while Natasha’s arms are holding you both protectively. The room’s still dark, and the compound is near silent other than some machinery that one would expect in a place as technically advanced as here. You let out a little sigh, trying to relax again when a shooting pain courses through your ankle, and although biting your lip stops the cry, you can’t hold back the grunt.

“Dorogaya?” Natasha is immediately awoken at the sound of your discomfort despite your attempt to quiet it, shifting so that she can look you in the eye. “What’s wrong?” You shake your head, trying to not get too distracted by the rasp in her voice due to sleep, and start to deny that anything was wrong when Wanda shifts off of you.

“It’s her ankle,” she murmurs, pushing back her tangled hair from her face as she glances down at the boot.

“It’s not fair that you can read thoughts.” She hums, her hand cupping your jaw as Natasha shifts on the mattress, pills rattling as she sits back with a medicine bottle and water bottle.

“I saw the imaging tests detka, I don’t need to read your mind to know you’re in pain.” She presses forward, leaving a soft kiss on your lips before pulling back, shifting to her knees and helping you sit up. As soon as your back hits the headboard, two pills are placed in your hand, Natasha’s fingertips lingering while her other hand holds the water in front of you. With a sigh you swallow the pills and down the water, not realizing how dry your throat was until only drops trickled from the bottle. As soon as you pull the bottle away Natasha’s lips are on yours, her sigh tickling your cheek. Your tongue swipes at her bottom lip in an attempt to deepen the kiss, but instead you whine when she pulls back with a small smirk.

“What are we?” You finally ask the question that has been probing at the back of your mind for ages, but to them the suddenness surprises them.

“What do you mean, detka?” Wanda tilts her head, and you suck in your lips as you build up your courage.

“Well, we’ve never discussed what exactly our relationship status is. You two are obviously a couple, but…” you shrug your shoulders, looking down at your lap, “…where do I fit in?” A hand cups your chin and you immediately melt into the gentle touch, Natasha’s thumb stroking along your jawline as she compels you to look at the two of them.

“Well, I think it’s fairly obvious what we’d like,” Natasha says, glancing over to see Wanda give an approving nod, the witch’s hand taking yours and squeezing. “But if you’d like a formal request,” you roll your eyes at the teasing cadence in her voice, “we’d like you to be our partner. If you’ll have us, of course.” You can’t help the smile the blooms across your face, nodding rapidly as you grab the two and pull them in for a tight embrace.

“Yes,” you whisper, giggling gleefully as your hold grows tighter, “yes, I’d like that. Love that, actually.”

“As happy as we are to hear that, I’d rather be kissing you than the headboard.” You let them go, growing warm when you realize that you’d forgotten how you’d been seated, but your two girlfriends just chuckled, Wanda’s hand reaching around the back of your neck and pulling you close while Natasha sat back, her hand resting on your knee. Soft lips press onto yours, teeth accidently clashing when neither of you can’t stop smiling, then suddenly you have to pull away to yawn.

“I think the pills are taking effect, dorogaya,” Natasha says as her hand moves to Wanda’s hip, and you pout at her. “Oh, don’t be like that. We’ll have plenty of time to continue once you wake up. And plenty more to do once that boot comes off.” They both laugh when you grow flustered at her words, both helping to lay you back down and pulling the covers over you. They take either side of you, and Wanda nuzzles back into you, Natasha gently kissing your shoulder before taking you both in her arms again. Their steady breathing only help to lull you to sleep further.

“Good night, our girl,” Natasha murmurs lowly, and as your eyelids drop your sleepy smile remains.

When you next wake up to only feel one body next to you, you blink away the sleep to see Natasha sitting up on the headboard with a phone in her hand. Her eyes dart across the screen quickly, annoyance evident on her features before she sighs and locks it, tossing it to her side.

“Everything okay?” She steels her features quickly before giving a tight smile, her fingers making their way to your hair. You furrow your brows at the odd shifts, but you hold back your questions as she leans down to kiss your forehead.

“Just an upcoming mission, they’re deciding who’ll be going.” Her hand starts massaging your scalp, and you relax under her touch. “It’s recon, so more likely than not me and Clint, but if they think that there’s a chance of engagement they’ll send others as well.”

“What do you think?” Before she gets the chance to respond, there’s a gentle knock on the door before Wanda looks in, a bright smile on her face.

“Hey, I just finished making pancakes if you two want some?” You barely get the chance to nod enthusiastically before you squeal in surprise as strong arms lift you up, Natasha laughing as she carries you out of the room. “So I’ll just go ahead and take that as a yes?”

“It’s a yes!” You shout back as you’re taken as quickly as possible to the kitchen without causing your leg any discomfort, the smell of not only pancakes but also eggs, bacon, hashbrowns and coffee filling the air.

“You really went all out, didn’t you?” Natasha teases as she sets you down at the counter, immediately reaching for a plate as Wanda’s arms wrap around your shoulders.

“Anything for my darlings,” she hums, her warm breath on your ear making you shiver. Her lips find your temple before she pulls away, asking what you want and plating it for you, the two sitting by you once you all have a hearty amount of food in front of you. “But hurry up and drink the coffee, Tony is going to be up here any minute.” Natasha curses, wincing when she tries to take a large sip of the still steaming drink.

“Why don’t you just hide it?” They both look at you incredulously and you shrug. “Rearrange some dishes, or put it in the pantry.” Wanda grins, waving her fingers and the coffee pot flies to sit behind several boxes of cereal before the door closes.

“I really hope you both know what you’ve just done,” Natasha whispers just before Steve walks through the doors, giving a small smile and nod to the three of you as he makes his way to the meeting room. “Especially if Cap calls for a-”

“All Avengers, please come to the meeting room,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice calls throughout the compound, and you smile sheepishly into your mug and Wanda fights back a laugh, Natasha’s head in her hands.

After Natasha carried you back to their room and Wanda cheekily told you that you could text them if you needed anything during the meeting, you relax onto their sofa with a sigh. The television was already turned to an episode of The Golden Girls, the best compromise Wanda and Natasha could come to when it came to shows. Halfway between a blurb between Dorothy and Sophia both Natasha and Wanda come rushing in, seeming equally stressed. You immediately sit up, watching both of them grab their typical clothes for missions.

“What happened to just recon?” Natasha’s brows furrow before she forces her expression to be neutral, but Wanda flinches before turning towards you.

“There was a change of plans. There were Hydra agents spotted at the base, and F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s facial recognition technology was able to identify some as those who attacked the compound. We need to move out now.”

“How long will the mission be?”

“Hopefully we’ll be back before morning,” Natasha says, zipping up the front of her suit before putting on the rest of her gear with an ease that shows her experience with them. Wanda pulls on her coat just as she finishes, it flapping behind her as she walks to you to kiss the top of your head.

“We’ll be back before you know it, detka.” They’re both out the door just as quickly as they came in, and despite knowing that they were well trained and well equipped for these missions, the image of the Black Widow on your operating table won’t stop flashing through your mind’s eye.

#wanda maximoff x natasha romanov x reader #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wandanat #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader #marvel #marvel mcu #marvel cinematic universe #fluffernutter saga

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oleander-nin · 1 year

Note

So um, sorry if I don’t explain this request very well, I’ve never really used these ask boxes for anything other than silly jokes with my friends… 😅

My request is a platonic ROTTMNT Raph x Yandere adult y/n… He is like a precious bean that y/n must protect at all costs! And they will kill to protect him if it comes down to it. :3

I would like this written in a sorta short-story fanfic format if possible, though the length doesn’t have to be short story if you are unable to do that.

Emphasis on this being platonic, I’m asexual and 18 so this has to be legal please. 💀

A/N, not important: Sorry this took so long. Just a warning to anyone reading this, I don't like Yan Y/n. However, I like you, so I tried my best. I hope I did this justice, but it kind of sucks. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: death, description of blood and washing of blood, dead bodies, gun, fighting, obsessive behavior, yandere themes, Appalachian mountains, kill list, my writing

Words: 824

Summary: You're willing to do anything to keep Raph safe. After all, he's just a dumb kid.

I sigh, the cool water of the stream running over my bloody hands soothed my beaten knuckles and washed the blood from my palms. I rolled my shoulders, fighting the kink in my neck while the stream stained pink before the water dispersed the blood and ran clear once more. I cup the water in my hands, rubbing it up my arm and neck. I needed a proper shower, but this would work until I could get back home. I couldn’t exactly drive while my hands were bloody, I didn’t want to ruin the interior of my car. Plus, I would need to clean out my car to get rid of the stains it would leave, and that’s just annoying. I shift my legs, standing up as I flick off as much water as I can from my arms and hands. Carefully stepping over the hippo’s body, I wipe my wet hands on my pants. I grabbed my bag from where it sat next to a tree, shoving the small handgun I had discarded next to the bag into it.

I pick up the bag and sling it over my shoulder, navigating through the thick of the woods to return to the trail. I couldn’t believe I actually convinced the magician to follow me all the way out to the Appalachian trail, but I guessed right. That worm was the perfect bait. I start the hike back down the trail, checking the time on my phone as I sip at my water bottle. It was a really nice day, slightly cloudy and a nice breeze blowing every once in a while. I pull up the list on my phone, crossing off two more names. I continue down to the trail, using the compass to help find my way back to the main trail.

It takes about ten minutes to get back to the trail, and once it’s visible, I start the half hour trek back to the parking lot, keeping off the trail and in the tree line so other visitors wouldn’t be able to see me well. I knew the blood on my shirt and pants was still visible, and having the cops called on me would be less than ideal. So tree line hiking it is. I shift my bag on my shoulders, trying to ignore the ache of my shoulders. That stupid hippo got me good when he threw one of his dumb rings at me, and I couldn’t help but wince every time my shirt rubbed against the wound.

The sun was starting to set, a warm pink glow mixing into the sky and more shadows settled in the tree line. The extra cover was nice, but I hated the thought of being out on the trail when it was dark. I eventually see the parking lot in the distance, and I slide down the steep incline and run to my car, trying to keep out of sight. I unlock the car, wincing at the small beep it makes. I slide into the driver seat with a hiss, setting my bag in the passenger seat. My fingers dance across the steering wheel, my mind still reeling. I knew it was necessary, but my guilt finally started to hit me. I shake my head, chasing away the thoughts. It was necessary, I needed to keep Raph safe. He and his brothers were in danger, and they refused to stop their stupid crime fighting.

If Raph wanted to be a hero, that was fine. He was a great kid, an amazing one even, but that was the problem. He was only a kid, barely older than 15. I start the engine, my face hardening as I back out and make my way out of the parking lot. My phone dings, a text from Raph coming in. I couldn’t look at the text while on the road, but I already knew what it contained. He and his brothers went on a patrol before I left. If he’s only sending me his completion text now, almost 2 and a half hours after they left, something must have gone wrong. Raph and his brother got into another fight, and more scars must’ve been added to Raph’s growing collection.

My grip on the steering wheel tightens, my mouth pressed into a thin line. I mentally went over my list, thinking about which of Raph’s collective enemies to go after next. If Raph wanted to play hero, I would let him. But I drew the line when he got hurt. I needed to keep Raph safe, no matter what. He was only a teenager, barely allowed to be on his own. I turn on the radio, a small ad for a certain mantis’ junkyard sounding through the speakers.

I turn off the highway, heading down a different stretch. It was fine. I could make another stop before going home. I had a goal to complete after all.

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slothquisitor · 3 months

Text

What Moves in the Dark: Chapter Seventeen

A post-campaign Baldur’s Gate 3 eldritch horror AU.

Chapter summary: The gang takes on the horrors. TW: Blood, graphic violence, body horror. And a whole slew of other things I don't know how to tag. Shit gets wild, besties.

Read from the beginning.

Read on AO3.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What do you mean Percy infected himself, is he mad?” Astarion asks as they traverse deeper into the stone tunnels, hurrying down narrow stone stairs. This is his first actual look at the place he was taken. He doesn’t recognize it at all, but he suspects it can’t be far from the Caldwells…probably.

Liv has her dancing lights bobbing about their heads, following them down the long narrow hallways. “I think he felt guilty abandoning you before.”

Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t, but Astarion suspects it had a lot more to do with trying to make it up to his sister. “Or he wanted to prove himself to you.”

Liv’s answer is a roll of her eyes. “Yeah, because he’s been known to give a shit what I think.”

“He does care, I believe, in a rather roundabout insufferable way.”

Liv smiles at that. “You the expert on that?”

“Are you calling me insufferable? After the trying day I’ve had?” But he’s grateful for the humor, for the way she knows exactly how to pull him out of his own head, to keep him moving.

“Oh good, she does know you. I worried you’d sucked her in with your considerable charms,” Jaheira drawls.

“Jaheira! You think I’m charming?”

And just like that, he’s transported to an earlier time, running through tunnels, scared shitless together. Gods, it feels familiar in the most wonderful way. He won’t tell them this, but he has missed Jaheira’s teasing, even Gale’s long-winded explanations. But mostly, he missed this: going on an adventure, no matter how terrifying.

The tunnel curves around and suddenly everything opens up around them. They’re in some sort of receiving chamber, a place that feels like a precursor to a much larger space. It’s partially crumbled, as stone is wont to do. It’s fairly reminiscent of the murder tribunal, honestly.

He looks to Jaheira. “Does everyone have a secret underground area beneath their home?”

“Don’t look at me, mine was a natural formation, I didn’t build a whole…temple.”

“It’s really a wonder that with all the earthquakes caused by the Netherbrain that the whole city didn’t collapse in on itself,” Gale says.

Liv glances between them in alarm. “You mean to tell me that this is like…normal for this city?”

“We went underground a lot while fighting the Absolute,” Gale replies.

“Comforting.” Liv glances up at the stone ceiling of this place as if she’s wondering whether or not it might collapse around them.

Up ahead of them, he can see Shadowheart and Minsc huddled around Percy, who is sitting with his back up against a crumbled piece of pillar. No one has bothered explaining who the hells Veska is, but he’s not sure he really cares at this point. If they’re here to help, the more the merrier, really. Upon seeing them, Liv hurries over, dropping down beside her brother.

“What’s going on?” Liv whispers as she approaches.

“Veska went on a bit ahead, but Percy thought he shouldn’t go any further.”

Percy looks the messiest Astarion has ever seen him. He’s covered in sweat, face pale. His hair looks like he’s been holding handfuls of it at intervals.

Percy looks up at Astarion and flashes a strained smile. “Oh good, you’re alive.”

“What the hells have you done?” he asks. He can smell Percy’s blood, the way it’s tainted.

Percy shrugs, but it’s clear the movement takes some effort, seems to pain him. “Had to do something to make sure you never wanted to drink my blood.”

“And you still find a way to joke about it,” Shadowheart chides him, but she’s placing her hands on his face, fingers glowing bright blue. It looks like whatever she’s doing is providing him some degree of relief.

An elven woman Astarion has never met rejoins the group. Her hair is a pale sort of strawberry blond and her cornflower blue eyes search out Shadowheart hungrily before turning her attention to everyone else. How interesting. This must be Veska.

“I’ve got bad news,” she says. “There is something terrible happening in the next chamber. There are people here, lots of people.”

“How many?” Jaheira asks.

“Twenty or so.”

“Infected?” Liv asks.

Veska glances at Percy who has grown paler in the last few moments. “Well, they don’t look like Percy, but there’s something not right about the way they move…almost synchronized. It seems like they’re preparing for something.”

“These people aren’t here of their own volition. They might attack us or whatever this thing is might use them as a shield. We need to keep them alive if we can,” Liv says.

“Oh lovely, we get to fight the Not-Lucian and have to deal with trying not to make other people collateral damage,” Astarion says, not bothering to hide his annoyance. For once, it would be nice to be able to rush in somewhere and just kill everything in sight. Certainly easier at any rate. “It killed Wyllyck to strengthen itself…we should be prepared for it to be the one doing the damage.”

He watches the concerned lines of Liv’s face grow deeper as she looks at her brother. “And don’t forget that we still don’t know what this thing actually is or how to stop it,” Liv adds with a tone that truly deserves an award.

“Oh, so no different than any other fight we’ve been in,” Shadowheart replies lightly.

And everything happening here might be terrible and horrifying, but when have things not been with these people? It’s actually a comfort, strangely enough.

“Well, shall we?” Astarion asks, more than ready to get some payback on Not-Lucian.

Shadowheart frowns. “Someone should stay here with Percy.”

“I’m fine,” he says, but it’s clear words are a struggle. His hands are shaking, he folds his arms in an attempt to conceal just how badly.

Jaheira leans closer. “Was it better further away? Maybe you could go back up the stairs.”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Go.” But it sounds like a lie.

Liv glances over at Astarion, clearly unconvinced before looking back at her brother. “I have a solution, but you don’t like it.”

Percy smiles, it’s an exhausted thing. “I’m all ears.”

“I could kill you for an hour.”

He laughs joylessly. “Gods, how badly do you want that to be permanent, Liv?”

“Do you trust me?” she asks, the question is quiet, barely louder than a whisper.

It’s clear that Percy is in pain, and that he’s struggling. Oblivion probably sounds nice. “I trust you.”

Liv pulls a small pot of dirt from her bag, pulls out a pinch of it, and hesitates. The siblings stare at each other for a moment, and then he gives her a nod. Her fingers are gentle as she touches his arm and casts the same spell he’s seen her use before. Percy goes limp, as though he’s dead. Shadowheart helps her lay him down on the ground, tucking him slightly into the shadows of the pillar, obscured from view.

Everyone stands then, moves for the doorway, but Liv lingers. He watches her rest her hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be back,” she says, even though he cannot hear her. And perhaps that is why she can say it now, why she can show how much she cares where Percy cannot see, where it cannot become something that hurts her later.

“He’ll be fine, I’m sure,” Astarion says as she stands.

She nods without any particular enthusiasm. “Let’s go.”

The stairs leading into the next room are broken and cracked with age. Their group moves carefully, using the large stones that scatter this side of the room as cover. The room is large and open, pillars are dotted about, obscuring parts of it from view, but he can clearly see a large stone altar in the middle, surrounded by twenty or so people from all walks of life. There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason, no connecting thread between them. Perhaps they all just got unlucky. But then he sees Devella among their ranks and his stomach drops. Shit, when had that happened and how had he missed it? She’d been acting strangely fidgety at the party earlier, had she been infected then and he didn’t notice it?

Not-Lucian stands on the dias near the altar, his back to the room. He is doing something with his hands, but Astarion is to make it out. Their group moves forward carefully, dodging behind pillars and moving quietly. So far, no one has paid them any mind.

Suddenly, Not-Lucian raises a hand into the air, and then every single one of those surrounding the altar begins tearing into their own flesh. Their fingers are curled into claws, and they rip at their arms, their legs, anything they can reach until they begin to bleed. The stench of the blood fills the chamber, and Astarion stops breathing. The blood spills and pools, hitting the stone like rain. Astarion is frozen in horror as the blood begins to rise into the air, tendrils breaking and branching. Not-Lucian curls his still-raised hand into a fist and some of the blood that begins to circle above them all flows into him. As the blood enters Not-Lucian, the power is palpable, the entire world seems to throb with it.

In front of Not-Lucian, there is a rip in reality, a slicing through time and space. It opens like a maw, filled with teeth. And Astarion doesn’t know much, but he does know that whatever Not-Lucian is trying to pull through that thing is much much worse than anything they’ve seen so far.

***

Liv has never been so afraid in her whole life. It was one thing to be attacked in the shop, another to not know if Astarion was alright, but this is another level of fear. Blood drifts lazily into the air, surging like a heartbeat, flowing into the figure that stands on the dias. But Liv can’t quite keep her eyes off of the rip in reality behind the figure. There is a sense of wrongness in the air, and Liv isn’t sure if it’s the nerves or something wrong in the room, but she feels like she could throw up.

“Is it opening a rift?” Gale asks, looking at her and Astarion as if they have any of the answers.

“Apparently,” Astarion says.

“I’m more concerned about whatever it wants to call through it.” The words are hard to get out. She’s not sure how everyone else is managing to be so calm.

“We better stop him before it gets any bigger then,” Jaheira says, and in a flash of golden light, she becomes a panther.

Astarion offers her a smile, before he rolls out behind the pillar, taking shots with his crossbows at Lucian. Shadowheart murmurs something under her breath, hand on her heart, and Liv feels a blessing settle against her skin.

“Come on, Boo. We will stop this evil!” Minsc yells, running into the fray.

Veska surveys the room. “I’m going to head around to the other side, get another angle on him.”

Shadowheart nods, gaze following her movements. “Do you think anything could break these people out of whatever this is? They’re feeding him power.”

“I don’t know. Your divine magic is different than mine though. Perhaps you’ll find a way.”

“I’ll try.” And then Shadowheart is weaving between pillars and people.

“It’s tempting to go in and throw whatever big magic you have at something like this right away, but we don’t know what we’re dealing with, so it’s better to stick with smaller spells at first, figure out its weaknesses, then go for the big ones,” Gale explains. “Stick by me.”

She’s grateful to follow behind Gale, to have someone tell her exactly what to do. Lucian’s back is no longer toward the group but he is instead actively fighting Jaheira, Minsc, and Astarion. His body shifts and moves in inhuman ways, his joints breaking and bending the wrong ways as he dodges their blows. The blood that had been circling above the room swirls more maliciously now, and Liv watches in horror as the tendrils slither forward and strike like snakes. Jaheira takes a hit, and growls in pain or fury, Liv isn’t sure.

Veska has a pair of daggers out, and she jumps forward from the far end of the altar, slicing at Lucian. Liv aims a firebolt at him, and while it hits, it seemingly does nothing beyond pissing him off. There’s a prickling feeling at the back of her neck like someone is watching her, but as she turns around she sees nothing. Except at the top of the stairs into the room, she notices a slumped figure, crawling on the ground. It’s Percy….or at least his body. Blood leaks from his nose and mouth and ears…flowing into the swirling mass in the room.

It hadn’t mattered that she’d feigned his death, except that it spared him being awake for the horror of this, she supposes. All of the pieces are back together, just like whatever this thing is had wanted. Once into the passageway, she never should have let Percy come with them. She wants to go to him, to make sure he’s okay, but he is one person in a room of many. And so that will have to wait.

Shadowheart darts between the victims, healing the wounds she can, closing them up to stop the flow of blood. It doesn’t matter, they simply carve new wounds into themselves, faces devoid of any emotion at all. Liv sends an ice knife at Lucian’s throat, and while it shatters rather spectacularly, it hasn’t fazed him.

Suddenly, the room seems to contract, as if that rift behind the altar is sucking in its breath. And then it exhales, and they are all thrown back. She hits the stone wall, hard, her body collapsing in a heap. Her shoulder took the brunt of the impact, but her ears are still ringing. And above it all is a pervasive sense of wrongness in the air.

Minsc is the first to recover, screams as he goes for the attack. Astarion isn’t far behind, but Jaheira is no longer in her panther form, and Veska’s head is bleeding. Shadowheart sends a bright bolt of light towards Lucian, but like everything else, it isn’t working. Nothing is working.

Has she brought them into a fight that is unwinnable? Is the key to start killing these people who are enthralled? She doesn’t want to take that risk. She glances at Gale, who still looks dazed, but is clearly making the same calculations she is.

“What is this thing? There’s got to be some way to harm it. Nothing is unkillable.” Gale has been mostly calm and confident through this whole ordeal, but she can hear the panic in his voice.

“I think the people here are powering somehow.”

Gale’s gaze goes flint-like, resigned. “I was sincerely hoping you weren’t going to say that. I have no desire to kill any of these poor people.”

Liv peers around the column they’re crouched behind, Minsc and Astarion are still fighting, and Jaheira has moved back, and is now tossing spells as well as wielding twin swords, thorns cover the ground, grasping at Lucian’s legs. But she can see the way that Astarion is tiring, that Minsc’s attacks are slower than they were. She’s not sure if it’s true fatigue or if it has something to do with the power rolling off of the rift in sickening, lurching waves.

Then there is the faintest popping noise and the scent of ozone in the air, and Liv immediately braces for something bad to happen, but then two figures materialize beside her and Gale. She dodges out of the way, and Gale moves too, an arm extended, ready to throw a spell, but then she recognizes the figures.

“Kharis?” Liv stumbles forward in shock, the second figure is familiar too, but it isn’t until he turns to her fully that she realizes it is her brother, Roland. She hasn’t seen her brother in years, not since he left for Candlekeep after Brelia died and stopped returning her letters.

He glances about the space with a look of unsurprised dread. “Well, sister, you certainly have gotten yourself into quite the mess, haven’t you? This is way worse than anything I could see when I scryed on you.”

Kharis grabs her arm. “This thing, it’s a uuvudaum from the Far Realm. Its only purpose is to come here, amass power and open a rift back so that other things can come through, can escape.”

Liv knows little of the Far Realm, only that it is a multidimensional place of madness. “Please tell me you’ve come here with a plan.”

“First, that thing, puppeting the host needs to be banished. And then someone has to close the rift otherwise it will just come back through,” Kharis explains.

Roland pulls out a scroll, holds it out to her. “I used all my magic to find you and get us here, I’ll be very little help.”

Liv looks to Gale. “Would you…”

He shakes his head. “I’ll do the banishing, but you’ll need to close the rift.”

Liv takes the scroll, opens it, and begins to read. The spell is complicated, but nothing nearly as difficult as the spells she’s been attempting to craft for Astarion. The problem is going to be the length of time she’ll need. The spell will take several minutes, and banishment lasts only one.

“You’ll need to wait to banish it, simply keep it busy while I start closing the rift. I’ve got to be close to it too.”

“Shadowheart!” Gale calls, and Shadowheart runs over, calling down sacred fire on Lucian as she does.

She holds her shield up, covering them all. If she is confused by the presence of two newcomers to their ranks, she doesn’t show it. “What do you need?”

“Get Liv up to that rift and keep everything off her. Let everyone else know they need to keep Lucian busy,” Gale says.

Shadowheart takes a deep breath, and then the ghostly specters of golden wolves begin to run around them in a circle, guarding them from harm. “Stay close to me.”

She glances back at Roland and Kharis. “It’s about damn time.” She means it differently for them both, but she hopes they can also sense the gratitude. They showed up in the nick of time.

“You can yell at me after you’ve dealt with the uuvudaum,” Roland says with a smile, readying a bolt of flame in his hands. Kharis has his axe drawn, and he’s already rushing forward with them, a grin on his face.

“It’s been far too long since I’ve had the occasion to use this.”

And then she is running with Shadowheart towards the altar and the rift. “Keep him busy. I need time!”

“How much?” Astarion yells back as she falls to her knees near the rift, this close the sickening wrongness is impossible to ignore. Her stomach twists and churns, but she can’t allow herself to be sick, not now.

“A few minutes,” she manages, and she gets to work. She can hear the fighting around her, the scrape of metal on bone, the way it doesn’t slow Lucian down. She can hear the way the blood strikes at them all and the heavy breathing of her companions. But she has to shut it all out.

The first step of the spell allows her to see the threads of reality, the rips in the tapestry of her world, the way the rift is breaking through it. She can see them now, and she must reach out with her magic, pull them closed, but the second her magic pulls at the threads she finds herself tumbling down, down, down, down into the dark.

Into the cold…

Her eyes are closed, but she has no memory of closing them at all. She opens them and finds that the stone room and the altar are gone. Smeared away by this cold, enveloping darkness. There is no landscape here in the dark, but she feels the ground, feels like there is something here, but she cannot quite see it. She sits on the ground, alone.

Or not quite alone.

Emerging in front of her, as if it is stepping between layers of film is a dark figure. It looks vaguely humanoid, but its neck and limbs are all too long, giving it a spider-like quality as it moves. It is a lone figure, but it doesn’t feel like one, it feels like many, like a vastness she cannot entirely comprehend.

She tries to speak, but no sound emerges. And she realizes that there is no sound in this place, perfect silence is all that greets her.

The figure’s jerky movements bring it closer to her, bending over her. This close it’s clear that the figure before her wears armor so dark, it seems to be sucking in every bit of light in this already dark place. What are you? You are new.

The words are above her, around her, in her head, piercing her ears in through the silence. She is frozen in place, unable to speak or move or do anything at all.

You have a sense of the Material about you, has Harbinger brought you for me?

Its face, if it can be called that, moves ever closer. But instead of a face, it is a void, a swirling mass of stars and eternity. It is nothing, it is everything. It is eternal. And then there are teeth.

If there was sound, she would be screaming.

***

There is magic pouring of the portal, of this rip in their world. Astarion can feel it, the way it swirls around him and drains him of energy. He is still fighting, still dodging tendrils of blood that strike out at them, needle-sharp. Even Minsc is looking worse for wear, as Not-Lucian’s fingers, broken into claws, swipe at them all. Kharis has joined the fray though, and it’s a relief to have a fresh weapon in the battle.

Nothing has harmed him, the blood swirling above their heads seems to be powering him in some way. Jaheira has retreated away and is tossing spells to no avail. Shadowheart’s spirit guardians run in circles around her and Liv, and she stands as a sentinel, guarding her while she works her magic to fix this, to save them all.

Minsc takes a heavy blow and staggers. Not-Lucian clocks the movement, and Astarion throws every bit of energy he has at attacking him, at stepping between them, giving Minsc the extra time he needs. Veska has been more helpful than he could have hoped, dancing in and out with her daggers, but even she has slowed. This isn’t a fight they can win, only draw out long enough for Liv to do whatever it is she must.

He sees an opening and swipes forward with his dagger, slicing the backs of Not-Lucian’s ankles in a move that would cripple a normal person. But Not-Lucian isn’t normal, and the blood that spills out merely soaks back in, muscles and bone and sinew weaving together in new horrifying ways. Minsc gets clawed, and goes down, and then Not-Lucian kicks Veska away, turning its full attention on him. He dodges, but he isn’t fast enough, not when Not-Lucian can break his arms and legs over and over to scramble at him.

Not-Lucian grips him by the throat, and shoves him to the ground. He feels the impact reverberate through him, knocking what little air there was in his lungs out. He is reeling and pinned down by this monstrosity.

“Now! Do it now!” A voice calls through the wobbling of the world, and he thinks he might agree…do something…someone. Otherwise, this is it, isn’t it?

Mouth open, throat tendrils extended, Not-Lucian bears down on him, and his energy sucked away, he can do nothing but watch.

And then the weight is gone. Not-Lucian disappears. Astarion scrambles up, daggers raised. Gale’s hand is extended in his direction, and it’s clear he’s battling his will against Not-Lucian’s.

The chamber is quiet for a moment until suddenly it is filled with the most bone-chilling scream he’s ever heard. It makes him jump and he looks around, wondering at the source of it, but then he realizes it’s coming from Liv. She sits near the rift, illuminated by the bloody red glow of it, her magic a purple twist flowing between her hands.

“What’s wrong with her?” he yells, rushing to her side. The scream stops, and he’s not sure if that’s better or worse.

“Don’t touch her! She’s closing the rift!” The voice that had called out earlier rushes forward. The newcomer is a tall half-elf with dark curly hair. He hadn’t seen the familial resemblance with Percy, but he sees it now. This must be the other brother, the one who was at Candlekeep, the one Liv mentioned just once and never again on a quiet evening when he’d asked her about her family.

“Everyone alright?” Shadowheart calls, voice filled with a panicked edge. “We’ve a moment before that thing might appear again, right?”

Gale’s teeth are clenched together, and he groans slightly with the effort of maintaining the spell. Astarion stands back up, watching the space where Not-Lucian disappeared, ready to fight again, but really hoping that whatever Liv is doing means they don’t have to.

***

The figure with a void for a face inches toward her, but then they are no longer alone. Two other figures appear, drawing its attention away, and Liv, still frozen in place, stops screaming.

One figure is a man. Lucian. She’s studied his face well enough to know it anywhere, even here. His hair has escaped the loose tie at the nape of his neck, it falls over his face in a messy curtain.

Harbinger . The Void greets the other figure.

This one is not humanoid at all. It has a torso of sorts and two arms, but it is there that the similarities end. It has several feet that rise up angular like spider legs, and instead of a head it instead has a long, sinewy tail that ends in a sharp spike. There are mouths all over it all sharpened teeth and frightful smiles.

What have you brought me? The Void crouches over Lucian. This one is real. Did you bring it to nurture me?

It is the one that opened the way. The portal is nearly ready.

The Void bends forward. First, I must be nourished and then we will pass through . It is difficult to see Lucian’s face from where she sits, still frozen, but she can sense his fear, feels as though if she could hear him he might be pleading, begging.

Bending ever lower, the Void cups Lucian’s cheek, and presses the tip of its head against Lucian’s brow in a move that might be gentle if it were not for what comes next. The stars and darkness in the Void’s face swirl, and Lucian is ripped apart, torn into pieces, dissolved.

Liv reaches for her magic on instinct, for something, anything to get her out of here, to avoid that fate. Even in her panic, she can feel the threads, the way her magic holds them, and tugs them tight as she can, and everything goes dark.

***

Moments pass, crawling by. Astarion can feel the cool touch of Shadowheart’s healing settling down over all of them. Gale has dropped the spell, and has said that Not-Lucian, something called a uvuudaum is now back where it belongs. He doesn’t care what it is, he just wants Liv to be alright.

He moves over to her. Her hands are still moving the magic pulling between them, but she looks calm, if not exactly present. Her nose is bleeding, leaking dark red. He glances frantically between Kharis and Rolandris. “Is there anything we can do to help her?”

“It’s a complicated spell. Give it time,” Kharis replies, glancing around at Astarion and his friends, at the way they all crowd around Liv and this rift. The blood in the room still swirls above them maliciously, but it isn’t striking out, with Not-Lucian banished, well, it seems to not be quite as aggressive.

There is a bright burst of light from the rift, and then Astarion watches as reality itself seems to stitch back together, the rift growing smaller and smaller. And there is Liv, sitting beside it, swaying a little as it all disappears. The blood swirling above them stops and drops like putrid rain overtop them all.

There are screams and cries as those enthralled by Not-Lucian’s control come to, but Astarion only has eyes for Liv. He drops to his kneels beside her, and she glances up at him, with a smile. “It’s closed.”

“You’re incredible,” he says, unable to contain his awe pulling her into his arms for the second time today. She leans into him weakly. And he holds onto her tighter, keeping her upright. She has saved them all. Of course, she has.

“Hells yeah!” Roland cheers a fist in the air. “That worked!”

“I’m sorry, did you come here with a solution you didn’t even know would work?” Astarion asks, unable to keep the ire from his voice.

Roland flashes a grin that reminds him so much of Percy he wants to punch him in the face too. “Well, yeah. But it worked anyway, didn’t it?”

Kharis, Jaheira, Minsc, Shadowheart, and Veska have already stepped down off the altar, and are trying to help the people who have just come to in a room full of horror. Liv seems to notice. “We should help,” she tries to stand but is far too unsteady.

“I think that you and I are going to stay right here,” he says, pulling her against him and back to the floor.

It’s a testament to how exhausted she must be that she doesn’t fight it. But then she stiffens, craning to look up the stairs. “Oh shit, where’s Percy?”

“Percy…is here?” Roland asks rather incredulously.

She points to a crumpled form at the top of the stairs. Shit. Liv’s feigning his death seems to have done nothing to keep him from this room. “He helped us find this place, infected himself to do it. Help him?”

“Oh good, Kharis is going to help too,” Liv says, her eyes trained on her brothers.

“He’ll be fine. Look at all these people…they’re all fine.” Well, fine might be overstating it a bit, but between a druid, two clerics, and a ranger all with healing spells, the people are getting themselves patched up in no time at all.

“Are they still tainted? Or is it gone?” Liv asks.

He hasn’t breathed since stepping foot in this chamber, quite on purpose, but he takes a trembling, tentative whiff. The room smells like blood, clean and normal, and nothing else. The scent makes his gums ache, reminds him of his own hunger. He’s determined not to breathe again in this room. “It’s all gone. You did it.”

She visibly relaxes at that. “We did it.”

He is grudgingly glad that all these people didn’t have to die for them to stop that thing…what had Gale called it? A uvuudaum? He doesn’t know what the hells that means. He’s sure it’s killing Liv to be up here, unable to offer her help, but she’s done enough for today.

“What was that?” he asks her, trying to distract her from watching the top of the stairs with unhappy eyes.

“Roland said it was a rip to the Far Realm. And that thing that came through, that possessed Lucian…it was uuvudaum. But…when I pulled the threads…I think I went there…it was called Harbinger.”

Astarion stiffens at that. “You got its name?”

Liv nods. “There was something else there…waiting on the edge of the portal to come through…many somethings I think. Whatever it was here for, it wanted to open a portal between our world and the Far Realm. Roland might know more.”

“The Far Realm…how did…it…Harbinger even get here in the first place?”

She swallows. “Harbinger said that Lucian opened the way, but he seemed so afraid. I don’t think he meant to do this…”

“Lucian was there?”

Liv nods, tears escaping down her cheeks. “I think when Gale banished him it split him and Harbinger apart. And then…and then….this thing…it had a void for a face it…” Her words trail off.

“It killed him,” he finishes.

There’s a haunted look in her green eyes. “It was so much worse than that. He disintegrated him, sucking up the pieces.”

He pulls her in, tucking her head under his chin. “It’s alright. It’s over now.”

And it is, isn’t it?

But then he hears a struggle at the stairs. “Where’s Lucian?” a voice calls. Astarion and Liv both look up toward the commotion. There is a man, covered in blood wearing dark leather armor. He’s looking around at their gathered group, clearly recognizing many of them.

“You!” Percy leaps toward the man. Well, at least he’s fine. Kharis and Roland try to pull him away, but he’s already tackled the other man and has him pinned on the floor.

“Help me get over there,” Liv says, a pleading look in her eyes. He helps her stand, she seems steadier now, but he keeps an arm on her anyway. Her unsteadiness is a good excuse to keep touching her, and he’s not quite ready to let go, not one they’ve just survived this mess.

She flashes him a grateful look, and together they move toward the stairs. Percy, looking much better than earlier, has a dagger against the other man’s throat. “What did Lucian do…what was his plan?”

The other man looks afraid, and keeps looking hopefully at everyone else congregated about the room, as if they’re coming to save him. But he sees no allies here. “He was calling on Bhaal…for vengeance, for murder. We wanted to get back at the Guild…We’re all that’s left of the Zhentarim here in the city.”

“So he got a ritual spell from the Bhaalists…” Liv murmurs. “Only it didn’t actually call Bhaal…”

“Summoning magic like that is very, very dangerous,” Gale says. “You never know what might be listening, and if you don’t have the right protections in place…”

“The Caldwells must have blamed the Guild for the death of their son…allowed the Zhentarim to set up in their home. Is that right?” Percy asks, pressing the dagger harder against the man’s throat.

“Yes. They never believed it was the Bhaalists that killed their son. We didn’t care who did or not. We just needed a place to conduct the ritual.”

“Well, it sounds like Lucian is gone for good, but that’s a good enough confession for me. You’re under arrest,” Devella says, stepping forward. Her armor is stained with blood, but she still exudes all the authority befitting a Fist. The infected Bhaalist he’d brought her must have infected her somehow, at some point. He feels marginally responsible, but it’s fine, it’s not as if she died.

Devella glances toward him. “You know, I did request that you give me a heads up before the fighting started, not after.”

“And I would have preferred if you hadn’t gone and gotten yourself mind-controlled by a blood monster.” The infected Bhaalist he’d brought her must have infected her somehow, at some point. He feels marginally responsible, but it’s fine, it’s not as if she died.

“An uvuudaum,” Gale corrects.

“A blood monster,” he insists. “Now…I don’t know about everyone else, but I think we’ve all earned a drink.”

#astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #tavstarion #bg3 fanfiction #eldritch horror au #astarion x liv #what moves in the dark #slothquisitorwrites

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wannabegwenstacy · 9 months

Text

Writing Ideas:

okay, so this is what's gonna happen. i'm feeling manic and i got some free time from work and school currently. sooo..i'm gonna throw out a few ideas/teasers for some stuff i have in my drafts. if you like please tell me so i have some motivation to finish or even keep working on these ideas. thank you! ;)

Enrapture;

wordcount: currently at 8k...will most likely be over 10k and this planned to be part 1

pairing: Jimin x Taehyung x Fem. Reader/OC

tags: smut, fluff, childhood friends to friends w/ benefits to lovers, established relationship (friendship!), flashbacks, talk of college mayhem,

warnings: 18+ NSFW Smut, Alcohol Consumption, Talk of the Pandemic and Quarantine (it's set during the pandemic and the characters are in quarantine for part of it), talk of poor mental health (abandonment issues and some other stuff), masurbation, nudism, oral (m & f), nipple piercing (reader has them, vmin suck them), hair pulling (m), cock riding of the reverse kind, Taehyung has got a big dick but that's a given, cum eating, lazy eiffel tower..kinda, slight voyeurism, jimin at one point gives himself a hand job.

summary: When you you ended up moving in with your two best friends of 9 years to quarantine together during the pandemic the last thing you expected was to discover more about them than you thought you already knew. You knew everything there was to know about these boys so why does it feel so weird when one night after your celebration of quarantine being lifted when you wake up in one their beds all three of you together? this should be fine but it was far from just fine like you told them. This could change everything.

notes: i have been writing this for like 2+ years off and on. it's the first thing in my drafts lol like I add on and change things constantly. i want to finish it but this is the reason of my writers block/not posting. so i would love to get it out but i struggle.

The Boyz as College AUs

wordcount: sangyeon's aint even finished and its already 1.6k of bullet points. i have 11 members to write ranging from 1k - 2k words each..

tags: suggestive, maybe smut idk yet, fluff, crack, college au, very trope-y, i fell first but they feel harder trope, right person wrong time trope, slow burn bullet point style for most, slice of life, enemies to lovers!, best friends to lovers, okay you know what just assume probably every trope will be covered

warnings: possible smut..mdni, okay umm actual smut i just reread jacob's when making this 👀, talks of heavy anxiety, very cheesy, most likely all written lowercase on purpose, wip so not 100% sure of every thing yet

summary: this is gonna be formatted like my Bangtan in Bed thing I did years ago but more fluffy not so smutty. Pretty self explanatory but The boyz as College AUs! meaning how I imagine each of the boyz if you met them in another life in college.

notes: this one is my newest one in my drafts so it might take the most time to finish. might be a series but might be a master post we will see!

Bangtan in Bed: Jeon Jungkook | NSFW

wordcount: i usually do around 1k for these

tags: smut..and more smut

warnings: (this is the warnings i had from where i left off writing this part over a year ago. subject to change.) baby boy kookie, massages, dry humping, strong senses, sensory play, mood setting, daredevil kookie, risky sex, stamina control, strength kink, wall sex, shower sex, standing up sex, thigh riding, overstimulation (receiving), forced orgasms (receiving), praise kink (receiving), phone sex, guided masturbation, mutual masturbation

summary: how jeon jungkook might be in bed based off my opinion!

notes: i haven't touched this in a LONG TIME! I probably need to go back and change a bunch i already written. i also honestly need to go back and edit the other members to kinda see if they still hold up. I did get a request to finish this series a while back and it's been eating at me so that's why this is on here.

#eden's updates #eden's writing updates #the boyz #the boyz scenarios #bts #jungkook #jimin #taehyung #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #minors dni #jungkook smut #some ideas #please indulge me

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thecupcakewritesmorethings · 2 years

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Jesse Cromeans: Best Ending

Okay hear me out, I’m sticking to this “Best Ending” format.

In regular conversation I have spoken out about how crazy Chromeskull’s character/concept is. In such conversation I’ve also spoken out about how BAD the police force is. DOES THIS STOP ME FROM LOVING THIS MAN? No.

(some spoilers, I guess, for the movies)

So Jesse is left in an awkward, horrible position by the time the end of the Second movie runs around. His underling is dead, having betrayed him, his prey escaped and they can’t find her, and above all else: the police know about him, his identity as Chromeskull, and likely finds out his wife is dead not long after.

I am of the belief, that, personally, Chromeskull did have some form of affection for his wife. I also am of the belief that she knew Jesse WAS Chromeskull and offed herself as an attempt to not be implicated into the murder of literally over fifty victims.

This does affect him, but not in the way we might think. Jesse comes from the mindset that a man has to provide for his family. He just lost his wife, AND his unborn child- that’s a big point of shame and failure on his already bruised ego, ON TOP of the fact his face is all fucked up.

Jesse mourns and beats himself up over the loss of his family. Chromeskull, on the other hand, is a pragmatist. Deep down he knew this was always a possibility, no matter how minute. Sucks that it happened, but he has business to attend to.

But before he can do that- he needs to make a safety net again.

Chromeskull needs to become someone OTHER than Jesse Chromeans. He needs a new front. Jesse needs a new cover family. Preferably, someone who is already versed in the criminal underground. Someone he can bully or persuade into playing a happy little spouse, someone other than Spann, who has no time or want to be that sort of thing.

Enter, you.

Your rap-sheet as a criminal is incredibly small compared to Chromeskull’s (hard to compete with that), the problem is: you got caught. You’ve gotten caught and have since gone straight. Or, rather, you’re trying to, but it’s hard.

Do you know how many companies in America will hire a convicted criminal? Not a lot, and not many places you’d want to work. Between your job, bills, and reporting to your parole officer; you’ve got no time for yourself, and barely enough cash to keep you afloat in the Suburbs surrounding the LA area. Bonus points if your crime was medically related, DOUBLE points if you have the added stress of having a child already.

It takes Spann less than a day to find you, and less than two to have a full background check. Chromeskull is the one who gives her the go-ahead to case you out in person. Spann tries to get closer naturally, stopping in on your shifts, putting a tracker on your car if you have one. If she can’t, straight up stalking would suit her just as well, though she will try to be friendly to make you more... Pliable.

If she can’t, well, with Jesse’s permission she’ll fabricate stressors to make you more open to accepting the terms of his agreement.

His proposal is frank, and given to you through texts. I’d say he’d do it in person as well. Hedging his bets, a bit there, but he fancies himself a gentleman. Wouldn’t break up with someone via text; wouldn’t get a partner that way, either. Plus if you DO say “no”, he can off you then and there.

Here is the deal, in summary: Move in with Chromeskull and just keep going to work and your parole officer. In fact, Jesse will pay your rent for your current place so you don’t have to go through the process of explaining you’re moving, but for all intents and purposes you’re living with him. He WOULD suggest his alias marrying you for real, but it’d look weird if you went from being super single to having a husband immediately. “Let’s give it a year, first.”

All of your needs are to be supplied in full, basically without any question. Car-note? Paid. Groceries? Delivered. Anything you could need, or want, is no longer a concern. Hell, he’ll even give you health insurance if you don’t have it and you want it. A part of him thinks that it’s a bit redundant with his medical personnel on standby, but you’re also not a cold-hearted criminal like him.

In exchange for all of this: you need to act the part of the doting house-spouse. Gush about him when he’s not around, make nice with the neighbors, shop for him, when you step out together hang around his arm, include him in “family time”, that he’s available.

In all ways except for romantically or physically- you are his partner. He’ll guarantee you have your own room, and he won’t make you do something garish like make out with him in private, but this is still a lot. Not to mention the fact that being around him, in itself, may be very dangerous.

IF you wind up asking him what’d happen if you say ‘no’, he merely types: “You won’t.” Period. You know he has you, too. He’s not asking you nicely to play the part of his significant other; he’s demanding your complicity and paying you handsomely for the inconvenience.

You say yes. Well, like we established, you didn’t have much of a choice. However, Jesse gives you a little more respect if you demand to have stipulations set. Things you can and won’t do for him. This will be the time to talk about anything frivolous, like how the house is decorated, accommodations, ect. Jesse is so used to just letting someone else he pays take care of all of this, so leveling with him is menial, but he takes it as a sign of respect. You’re taking this seriously.

You and Jesse- or whatever Chromeskull’s alias is settle into routine. Chromeskull puts his own nighttime activities on hold for the time being while Spann works her magic and the heat dies down... In the meantime you play up your role nicely. If you have a background in medicine, Jesse is going to get you to help a bit with his... Face... You’re probably just as qualified as he is, after all. Spann may be the one who helps him set up most of his appointments, but you’re the one who drives him home and spoon-feeds him. For the first time in a very long time Jesse feels coddled- and what’s BETTER is that he doesn’t have to hide it. Spann is... Well, Spann is someone important to him, but he knows Spann is into him for more reasons than she lets on.

Spann is OVERJOYED, by the way, when they find Jess.

Chromeskull, however, rules it’s still a bit too dangerous to pursue her, plus he’s still recovering. Picking up the pieces Preston left behind. He’s a busy guy... Most of that is true, by the way, but... Well. What can he say? He’s grown attached.

(If you’ve got kids, by the way, he has done some serious bonding with them, too. If they’re old enough to understand something may be UP with Jesse: he’s done everything he can to bond with them. If they’re young; he’s playing with them in their crib when he THINKS the baby monitor is turned off.)

Spann is the one to call his bluff. She breaks the earnest truth to him that you’re only with him, like this, because he approached you. There’d probably be a snowball’s chance in hell of this happening if the security wasn’t dangling in your face. Chromeskull wants to believe that, too, but Jesse... Can’t. However, he realizes what has to be done.

He tells you to watch after the house, something’s come up, he’ll be back in a week. He gives you your “allowance” a few days in advanced. He doesn’t tell you what he’s doing; but you’re pretty sure you know. You tell him to be careful.

Chromeskull hunts Jess down and tapes it. He gives the footage to Spann for processing, cleans himself up and returns home. Jesse then tells you that, as far as he is concerned; you’ve done your job. He pays you three or four months worth of cash, and tells you that you don’t have to stick around anymore. You can go anywhere you want now, in fact he encourages you to go far to keep your hands clean. “You’re not mine, and I’m not yours.”

Somehow this is way worse than the fake break-up you were supposed to have... And Jesse is so... Mad isn’t the right word. This was deeper than being pissed off. This is the second family Jesse has had, that he’s had to give up... But he has a plan.

Spann keeps giving him leads for more piggies, and he passes them off. He plays the boss, he gives the work to others in his company. Simply put... He may still be in charge of his organization, but the joy he got from completing his job is gone. All he feels when he thinks of the hunt is the guilt.

Spann’s patience with him dwindles to the point where he finally tells her to step up or fuck off. She choses to fuck off.

Jesse shrugs and feels oddly relieved...

It’s been months, but there is one thing Jesse has stowed away from his time with you that he has kept, its a picture. It’s more than enough to find you. He uses the same tricks Spann uses to find you again.

He shows up at your door with flowers. He has... No idea what to say for a moment. He can’t just... Casually walk into your life again all “Hey babe! Spann’s gone! :))))”

He settles for the befuddled, but oddly earnest approach when you answer. “Hi. I fucked up. Spann is gone, and I want you back in my life without hiring you. Can we work out a deal?”

#x reader #slasher x reader #jesse cromeans #chromeskull #chromeskull x reader #Basically this man businessed himself into a functional relationship #Or not

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forrestfanfics · 2 years

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Deepest Desires

Antisepticeye x killer!reader

In honour of Anti's return, I wrote this based off my old OC insert where he used my OC to kill people. This is also my first time posting here so the format and plot kinda sucks.

Summary: Anti used to "possess" reader and used her to do horrible things whilst manipulating her with love. After disappearing for 4 years, he returns to her to find that she's still as unstable.

TW: mentions of murder and dismemberment, possession, mention of multiple dead bodies, blood, angst, reader might be mentally unstable, brief mention of manipulation. (please tell me if I missed any :])

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There have been numerous reports of shady activity within the facility. But none as incredibly sickening as what happened tonight when a pile of dead bodies littered the halls.

Among the countless employees was Chase Brody, a 36-year-old who was reported missing some time ago.

Security footage was corrupted but managed to catch a five second clip of a shadowy figure floating down the hall right as the alarms began to blare.

Let's move to the scene where-

A light click and the television was switched off.

You let out a heavy sigh, wiping the stray tear that managed to slipped through despite your efforts to hold them in.

The remote was tossed aside rather aggressively while you tried to comprehend what you had just witnessed.

It couldn't be him.

You decided to forget about it. It couldn't be him. It's been way to long for him to just pop out of nowhere like that.

You looked down at the carpet, stitching your eyebrows together at the red stains. You really needed to clean that out soon before it settles.

Taking a deep breath, you pulled herself up from the arm chair and wandered into the kitchen where a kettle and tea bag were waiting on the counter.

You silently put together a cup of tea with much more honey than actual tea but no one was around to tell you off for it. Not anymore at least.

Staring down at the teacup, you noticed the blood stuck beneath your overgrown fingernails. With a shaky breath, you sighed.

The tips of your nails dug under the others, scraping out the gunk and leaving smudged of red behind. You've been getting sloppier at cleanup lately.

Defeated, you focused on the tea they claimed could help you relax.

Your heart clenched in your chest as you took a sip. The news broadcast replayed in your head over and over and over.

The five seconds of a shadowy figure stuck in your head on a loop like a broken cassette, slowly chipping away at your sorrow and replacing it piece by piece with pure fiery rage.

Your bandage-covered fingers gripped the tea cup with such force, it almost shattered in your grasp.

The box was wrong. The stupid tea did jack shit for you.

It's not fair. You thought

"It's for your own good, doll," you remembered him saying, watching as his shadowy form moved back into the body of your old Irish neighbour.

You grit your teeth at the stupid nickname you snapped at him for whenever he used it. You loathed the stupid hint of Irish in his voice whenever he spoke it.

You're doing so wonderfully, doll

You're my obedient little doll, aren't you?

Only the best for my doll

You've been bad today, doll

Doll...

You let out a frustrated yell, lifting the cup over your head. "I'm not a fucking doll!" You screamed as you let go, chucking it as hard as your anger allowed.

The cup smashed into the wall right beside the kitchen doorway where a tall man leaned against the frame with his arms crossed.

He seemed unfazed by the shards of ceramic and boiling tea flying dangerously close to his face.

You let your breathing settle and stood upright, allowing your demeanour to change. Instead of anger, you just looked annoyed.

"Well, if you despised the nickname so much, why didn't you tell me to stop using it, you fucking moron?" His shaky, erratic voice sent shivers down your spine and you turned your body back toward the counter, resting your hands on the surface and putting all your weight on them.

The memory lit a flame within you.

You did. You told him time and time again, you hated it when he referred to you as a doll.

"I never referred to you as a doll, d-..." He paused when he realised his almost slip up.

"Y/N." He rolled his eyes in disgust as he spat your name like venom from a poisonous snake. "It was only a habit I developed because you were my..." He trailed off and narrowed his eyes at the back of your head and mumbled...

"You were mine."

You've forgotten how annoying it was for him to read your mind.

You clenched your fists against the marbled counter, spinning around and taking a few steps forward. "Why did you come back? How even?"

A small smirk formed on his pale, dead-looking face. "You know me, doll."

You scoffed at the use of that dreaded nickname again.

"Pathetic little Jack could never hold me for very long even if he sold his soul to the devil." It sounded almost maniacal when he laughed at his own dumb joke.

"You truly expect me to believe he held you in for four years?" You felt your heart sink at the obvious lie. If he wanted out, he could so easily achieve it.

"I don't understand why you even had to go back," you grumbled, ultimately deciding to leave the conversation.

But as you expected to walk right through the man, you were met with confusion upon bumping into his physical body.

You stumbled back and blinked a couple times in fearful shock.

"I-... How are you-"

His laugh returned, sounding much creepier up close. You were more surprised than angry right then.

"Why, I thought you and Jack-a-boy were the best of buds? Haven't you heard?" The smile on his face grew, revealing his sharp teeth and bloody gums, really shoving them in your face.

"He's dead," he laughed.

You felt uneasy. He wasn't just there to catch up. Something else was going on here and it was only just the beginning.

"I was finally able to take over his body and now you'll never have to endure his presence ever again."

You felt your soul leave your body when you finally realized what happened.

Your shaky hand landed on his shoulder, shoving him aside like you so desired to do all those times in the past when he bothered you. He didn't even flinch at your sudden aggression when you stormed out of the kitchen looking like you'd seen a ghost.

"You wanna know why I had to leave, darling?" He spoke, stopping you in your tracks.

"As a spirit, I couldn't stay too long outside of Jack's physical body. Being with you for months almost untethered me from it." He explained, watching as your head hung low and your shoulders slumped.

You hesitantly turned to meet his gaze. "But you were using my body..."

"As a puppet. A temporary host. Ever wonder why I never fully possessed you? Why I was only ever at the back of your mind?" He chuckled softly, pleased with how confused and furious you looked.

"If I used you too much, I would cut my connection to Jack and fully take over your body, ultimately killing you. And I couldn't let that happen to my darling, now, could I?"

You couldn't tell the difference between his sarcasm and honesty as he used the same petty tone when he was speaking either way.

"Well... Now you have the freedom to do anything you want without me. So why don't you leave?" You hugged your arms and made a hasty beeline for the front door of the apartment unit.

"Why? So you can clean the blood off the rug?"

You froze.

"So you have time to chop the body up and toss out the parts before the garbage truck arrives? You don't think I didn't notice this isn't your home?"

Your lips began to quiver as flashes of blood and fragments of a girl's face crossed your mind. For a moment, you glanced at the closet you temporarily stashed the body in.

"Please leave..." You quietly begged.

You finally felt the cold touch of Anti's hands on your jaw, lifting your head up to gaze into your eyes so full of emotions with his soulless ones.

"Look at you, my dear. Still such a mess even after I disappeared," he teased. "How'd you do it this time? Stabbed her with a knife? Choked her with a wire? Did you rip her apart with your bare hands?"

You reached up and shoved him away with a scoff. "This is your fault. You turned me into this! This... This- monster!" You cried.

"You think I did this?" Anti gestured to himself with an amused look on his face.

"Who else decided to use my body to murder people?" Your voice began to crack, unable to hold your tears in any longer.

"I never manipulated you into doing all those horrible things, Y/N..." Anti took a step forward, making you take one back.

"I never possessed you, Y/N." He moved forward, causing you to walk backwards, suddenly overtaken with fear as the man towered over you with a big toothy grin and wide pitch-black eyes.

"Your anger issues, your murder sprees..." Anti backed you up against a wall and leaned in to whisper into your ear. "Y/N, Darling... Don't blame me for all the things you did."

You stilled.

Realising too late that the danger you were about to experience was greater than you ever experienced with Anti in your life.

You felt yourself slipping away, body feeling numb and vision going blurry.

You tried to speak his name only to be met with a breathless whimper. And you finally felt empty as your eyes shifted from their normal hue to pitch black.

"I only enable your deepest desires"

#antisepticeye #antisepticeye x reader #character x reader #character x you #antisepticeye x you #jacksepticegos #jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye x reader #happy halloween #halloween fic #x reader #jacksepticeye x you #killer reader #anti

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