#realest shit I’ve ever read

[just-teal]

Looked up Quinn Hughes on Spotify in attempt to get inspiration for the fic I’ve been writing and came across this banger of a playlist.

[are-we-really-doing-this]

Happy Birthday Babygirl (and happy birthday to this gem).

[what-gs-watching]

“You’re getting the fuck of a lifetime, tonight.”

OKAY friends. As we all well know by now, I am, and have been, utterly devoted to David Tennant in all forms for a long time. The man is incredible. He’s everything. He can do no wrong. 

So I was obviously out of my mind excited about Rivals. Have I read the book? No. Should I probably have joined the GOAD subreddit book club to understand what I was getting into? Yeah, absolutely. But I did not.

Y’all. Does anyone else feel personally victimized by this show? Show of hands? No? Am I just a sensitive bitch right now? Fair.

I should have expected that David Tennant’s character was a true creep because I know he likes to mix it up, that’s on me, but I did not expect to feel so many WAYS about things. Wasn’t this supposed to be like a fun, sexy romp set in the 80’s wherein I could just shake my head at British people being british?

I really came into this show knowing basically nothing. I definitely need to stop doing that.

AKA, wherein a bunch of pompous Brits living in the Cotswolds fuck each other’s wives or husbands or neighbors or WHOEVER and fight over who should control the local television rights - David Tennant’s insanely charismatic and crazy manipulative Lord Tony Baddingham, or intrepid Irish interviewer Declan O’Hara and unlikely ally MP and former olympian Rupert Campbell-Black.

LISTEN, TV, don’t make comments on the difficulties of marriage and love and other things, directly into my face. I don’t like it. It makes me squirmy, and I hate you. 

In the beginning, I really did not like Rupert and was yelling about him being a fucking creep, and I was letting Lord B off the hook for some of his weirder behavior but wooooof, what a journey those eight episodes take you on. I do appreciate character growth, or also, I guess, character…descent? Because Tony absolutely fucking unravels. 

Something about absolute power corrupting absolutely?

Also, there are a ton of characters in this thing. And I’m obviously gonna fixate on Lord B but I have to be honest, Lizzie, neighbor to the O’Hara’s and wife of one of the tv personalities at Tony’s station, is my favorite part of this entire tapestry. She writes saucy novels and she’s underappreciated in her little life and she raises her kids and has an adorable best friend relationship with Rupert (which definitely helped me soften to him) and I connected with her way more than I should have.

She tries so hard to get her husband to pay her attention. She really wants to feel like he cares about her, that he thinks she’s worthy, and he never gives it to her. BUT then she meets Freddie, awkward tech magnate, and y’all. Their adorable, bumbling interactions are everything. He runs after a train when she leaves the chapters of her new book the train! He appreciates the hell out of her, and she does the same for him, because his wife is equally neglectful. 

I don’t think I’ve ever rooted so hard for someone to have an affair in my life. She deserved to get absolutely everything she wanted. We all do. And I don’t appreciate being EXPOSED like that. 

Anyway. We obviously can’t get into every single random storyline here, so we’re gonna hit the highlights, lightning round style.

I do really like Declan, and his relationship with his wife was interesting - she’s an actress so she’s always going to be dramatic but he seemed like he knew how to handle her, and I appreciated the passion they had together. I don’t love how they ended up, you can see he really does love her, but she doesn’t want to compete against his work for his affections. I get it. But like girl, you gotta give a little? But also, that shit is hard. Their relationship seemed like one of the realest, for sure. 

What I could not bring myself to be okay with, was Taggie’s (Declan’s 20 year old daughter) feelings for Rupert. I’m sorry y’all, no. Like, sure, Rupert becomes more of a person throughout the show and I appreciate that and I get that he maybe hasn’t ever really loved anyone but I’m not gonna sign up for the love story between the two of them. And usually I’ll sign up for anything. But I just can’t, I’m not sure why. It just still feels predatory to me. 

Will I eat those words if they make a season two? I suppose we shall see.

And now, Lord B. Tony-fucking-Baddingham. Foolishly at the start I was like, maybe he does care about his very typical, dowdy english wife. She looks very salt of the earth and sure it’s surprising she’s not young and hot but man, they seem to work well together, they get each other. What’s gonna go down here? 

And then just kidding, he’s fucking Cameron Cook, the American female producer he hired to create amazing television for Corinium. Because of course he is. He does seem to think she really is brilliant, but he wants to control that and own it and he somehow convinces himself he loves her? But the man is a sociopath. And I spent like, the final three episodes yelling “GIRL, he’s gonna try to murder you, like for real tho…”

But then he does shit like dancing with her at a restaurant while crooning along to a stripped down version of “Love is a Battlefield” and I’m like, maybe he contains multitudes? But he doesn’t! There’s no fucking hesitation in any of the terrible shit he gets up to. That sweetness is purposeful. It’s gross and it’s mesmerizing. 

Bless Georgia Tennant for convincing him to take this role. I hate it, and it’s wonderful.

Also, big fucking props to the way his proper wife lays down the law in the last episode. (Side rant: early on I was like ‘does he ever fuck his wife?’ and he does, and it’s so awkward, bless her. I get it babe, I really do). But she met her fucking limit and she didn’t shy away from it. We need more women standing up for themselves. Cameron does to a degree, but Monica is the true MVP in this mess. 

I think the worst part about this show is that it ends abruptly, honestly. You don’t get a lot of closure, everything is still up in the air and there’s a serious fucking cliffhanger and now I’m just mad and weirdly turned on and again, feeling a lot of ways about things. It’s very “thanks, I hate it.” 

Let’s be real, I showed up to this thing so I could ogle David Tennant in a new way. And I definitely got that - those fucking cigars! And the suits! That gorgeous, predatory smile! But I also got a lot more. I’m infuriated and confused and I need season two immediately. 

After all, Lord B did promise that he’d continue to make television we want. And even if he’s a horrible, terrible bastard, I’m gonna believe that.

Bonkbuster indeed.

[astarionancuntnin]

Die For You (Chapter 8)

summary: as the vampire ascendant's bride, you get powers only spawns could ever dream of. only one thing stands in the way of your happily ever after, and the time has come for you to get rid of him, no matter the consequences.

rating: E

word count: 5k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader, reader is tav)

cw: 18+. you know the drill: smut, angst, blood/vampire bites, hints of praise, fingering (f! receiving), p in v, possessive behaviour, but also! telepathic discussions, katoptronophilia (mirror stuff), blood play, graphic depiction of violence. full list on ao3

a/n: SURPRISE i had a sudden urge of inspo and there's now one more chapter before the epilogue. im sorry in advance for whats about to happen, but also an immense thank you to my loyal readers, yall are the realest

This fic update every Friday! (2 more updates remaining)

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You know I like you

And anyone who gets in my way, darling

Might get a handful of some shit

Or stay heavy-hearted

Because it's cut-throat

To anyone who comes close

Be mine

And everything will be fine

-

His… bride?

Your knowledge on vampirism was limited, given it was based on what Astarion had previously shared from his own experience, and rumours you had heard through the grapevines. Nothing ever mentioned brides, and unless you had lost a great deal of your memory, you don’t recall marrying Astarion, either, but if your reasoning was sound, being his bride would mean you were somewhat his equal.

“Does that make me… a real vampire?” 

“You are even greater, as you are my creation.” He purrs, as his hand around your neck pulls you back further, exposing your neck to him, while his other hand wanders over your chest. “I’ve extended most of my blessings upon you, which is why you need not fear the sun, or any typical weakness that plagues our kind.” His eyes flicker back to your reflections in the mirror as he massages your breasts, all the while his tongue travels from your shoulder to your neck. “You are the only of your kind. With your strength and my influence combined, we are the most powerful couple in Baldur’s Gate. The most powerful beings in all the realms.” 

His hand at your front travels down between your thighs to find the pool of warmth he had previously abandoned so carelessly, to dip one, then two fingers between your slick folds. The hand around your neck lessens – not that it played any part anymore, as your head was naturally falling backwards in reaction to his touch – to cradle your chin, with his thumb slipping inside your open mouth, as your breath picks back up the hectic rhythm it had when he was between your legs. 

The taste of his crimson instantly invades your mouth, and you close your lips around his thumb, sucking fervently to get more of his liquid gold into you. You didn't experience hunger normally anymore – even earlier, the tiefling you drained was purely out of a power rush rather than actual hunger – but you think you would go insane if you never had the chance to drink from him. As you drink more, you feel yourself getting dizzy, almost drunk on his blood, the temptation to bite down getting harder to ignore. 

“Uh uh, pet. You’ll bite on this one,” as he feels your fangs nibbling over his thumb, he removes himself from your mouth to bring his other hand back up, this one drenched in your nectar. “Drink, my consort. Taste how good we are, together.”

You hum at your sweetness, and following his command you bite down, mixing your juices with the richness of his blood. The more you drink, the more you feel connected to him, as if your bodies and minds fused as one. You are like a putty in his hands: not a drop of fighting left in you, willing to follow his every command. 

While your mind wanders at the cocktail of flavours in your mouth, his other hand grabs a hold of your hips, as he guides the head of his cock against your entrance before plunging into you with one, deep thrust. Your mouth drops open as his dick fills every inch of your canal, making you whole with its presence. Before you can fall forward, Astarion's hand finds its way back around your neck, keeping you up and facing the mirror. His hand on your hips trails along your belly, and reaches the other side of your waist, keeping you still, with himself buried deep within you. He pulls  your head forward, making you witness the mess he made of you.

“Focus, darling. I want your eyes on this mirror at all times.” His voice is deep with lust, almost primal as he growls. “You’re going to watch yourself come on my cock.”

His hips slap against your ass with each thrust he makes, and the pain from each one is nothing short of delicious. Between gasps, you cross his gaze in the reflection, his eyes darkened with want, with need, as he admires the sight of you, his vampiric bride, covered in his blood, impaled on his cock. There is a bloody mess that trails from your mouth, to your neck, down your chest, and finally around your waist; he made sure to spread himself all over you, marking you.

Your moans fill the room, along with the wet sounds from your fucking and his growls, which only get louder. You bite your lip in an attempt to muffle your screams, only for your mouth to fly open again, crying out, as you draw out your own blood from nicking yourself with your new set of fangs. It was going to take some time to get used to them, but it only made Astarion enjoy the sight even more.

“Just like that, pet. Don’t hold back now, I want everyone to know how good I fucked you.” Just as those words leave his mouth, you spy a wicked grin on his lips before his fangs dive right into the flesh of your shoulder. As he drinks you in – for the first time as his bride – he takes on a punishing pace, his cock ramming into you, hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars. His name slips from your mouth without thinking about it, each time louder than the last. He leaves the fresh bite wounds – another symbol of his ownership over you – his mouth fully covered in your blood, to look back at your reflection, as his hand leaves your waist to massage your clit, pushing you to your limit. “Go on, scream my name to the heavens, tell them who you belong to, mind, body, and soul.”

A few more rough thrusts hitting against your cervix along with the stimulation over your sensitive bud is all it takes for you to come, your walls tightening around his cock, and your voice screams his name out like he was the god you worshipped. Before you can come down from your high, he grabs a hold of the back of your head, pulling you back to angle your neck with his mouth before speaking up with a low growl.

“Come on, love, I know you can give me another one.”

He keeps fucking your through your climax, keeping up the stimulation over your clit as he bites down on your exposed neck. The overstimulation pushing your body to its limit makes you go deaf for a moment, as your body explodes yet another time, and he continues pushing you further until he feels you grow heavier as your body goes limp from exhaustion. Only then does he remove himself and let you land on the bed carefully. In your daze, you hardly notice him moving around, until he picks you up, very gently, to slip you under the covers where he rests with you. You think you can hear him say something along the lines of “Rest, little love”, but in the bliss of your aftermath, his words sound distant, almost like an afterthought. Too tired to even move anymore, you lay against his chest, with his arm surrounding you protectively, while the other caresses your hair. Just when you think you’re drifting to sleep, the fog obscuring your mind, he speaks up.

“I don't want you to think for a single moment that you're not deserving of the entire world and more, and I’ll make sure you get everything you deserve.” His tone is drastically different from how it was only minutes ago, suddenly warm and soft, like a gentle balm over your wounds. He sounds so distant in your mind, yet you’ve never felt so close. “I will be here when you wake up tomorrow.” He rests his lips over the top of your head, leaving the ghost of a kiss as he pauses, before he continues. “I will always be here, my love.”

After today’s rollercoaster of emotions, these last spoken words have you tearing up. This is what you wanted: comfort, acceptance, support; unconditional love. If you had the energy to answer, you think you would have said those three little words you hadn't dared to speak aloud yet, but in the state you were in, you only manage to sigh as a few tears roll down your cheek, before your world finally fades to black.

–

When you open your eyes the next morning, you’re greeted by Astarion’s arms wrapped tightly around you; his weight, his warmth, surrounding you – protecting you. You’re certain he’s gotten closer than how you recall falling asleep last night. You were now entirely cocooned between his arms, with his head resting atop of yours. It felt… nice. It’s only when you nuzzle against his chest, seeking more proximity and wanting to hear the appeasing sound of his heartbeat, that you feel him move, holding even tighter to you, as his hands lazily trails over your back. His grip on you is so strong, you don’t think you could free yourself – not that you wanted to. You would happily spend hours in his arms like this, enjoying the safety of his embrace.

Knowing his reveries were already on the short end compared to the ten hours you allowed yourself to sleep – on a good night, that is – and considering how last night had completely drained you of any energy you might’ve had prior, you were convinced he must’ve been awake for a few hours already, just waiting on you to wake up and enjoying your sleepy presence in the meantime. You smile at the thought of him allowing himself to be vulnerable behind closed doors, and you were the only soul lucky enough to witness it. You think it’s adorable how clingy he is of you now, as he cradles you in your sleep, and you hum happily in his embrace.

A faint thought passes by, and sleepily, you raise your head up, your chin resting against his chest.

“Are you scared that I might just up and vanish?” You try to crack a joke, your voice is still heavy with sleep.

He pushes back slightly to look back at you with a faint smile when he sees you’re finally awake.

“It’s hard not to when you made sure to remind me countless times how our time together would be short-lived.” His hand leaves your back to caress your cheek lovingly. “I’m only trying to make the best of it.”

Your brows furrow slightly until you remember your words from the previous days. You hadn’t told him about your encounter at the inn. “About that… I might stay longer than I previously envisioned.”

“Oh? Changed your mind about the cleric after all?”

“I actually ran into Shadowheart yesterday,” you confess.

“Have you? I’m sure that she must’ve been thrilled by your new look.”

You sigh at his sarcastic tone, “So much so that she turned her heels and bid me farewell without looking back.” You tilt your head forward, now resting your forehead against his chest. “It got me thinking… this whole thing might’ve been a mistake. I don’t think I was completely in my right mind when I made that decision.”

He tilts your chin up to look back at him, “It serves no purpose to linger on what could’ve been, darling. What’s done is done, now it’s up to you to do your best with the hand you were dealt.” His face lost its smile, but his eyes were shining with thoughtfulness. “I know you will have no issue doing so.”

He’s right, and it’s not like you could go back now. If you had to live the rest of your eternal life like this, you would try to make it as good as possible. You will spend the rest of your life begging forgiveness for that tiefling’s life you took; he couldn’t be older than twenty-five, he was probably really only looking to have a good time and you took his life for it. You try not to linger too long on the thought, ashamed of your actions, but you promise yourself that you will never take an innocent soul ever again. Good thing for you that Sir Virric Othros and his friends were far from it. Speaking of –

“The invitations. We need to send them out–”

As you try to lift yourself up, Astarion grabs your arm, stopping you. “That was taken care of.”

“What? When?”

“Yesterday evening. Remember? When you decided to go out for a little drink?”

You crash back on the bed, groaning. “Gods, I really let it get to my head. I’m sorry.”

He chuckles, “It’s all forgiven, my sweet. All things considered, I find it funny, really.”

You raise your brow, “Funny? Seriously? With the reaction you had yesterday I would’ve said anything but.”

He sighs, “My reaction was… extreme, I’ll admit. But when I noticed the blood on your hands, all my worries disappeared. I would even dare to say that I was proud of you. Now I know for certain that no one will get their hands on you, my little threat,” he says the pet name with a pause between each word, shaking your chin between his fingers.

“Won’t happen again, swear I’ll be on my best behaviour,” you answer, pushing his hand away like a teen getting scowled, but you still smile shyly at the new name.

“Oh no, on the contrary, I do hope you kill again, but let’s focus our energy on people who actually matter this time, hm?” He cocks his head to the side, with the hint of a smile, and your smile can’t help but widen.

You spend some more time in bed talking about the plan in detail – you think it was the skin to skin contact, but you were more comfortable talking about murder plans in bed with your lover rather than in his large office – you needed to make sure that the soiree would go down without a hitch. The next few days were spent planning that night. Astarion shared with you all the information he had on the guests he planned on inviting – after all, you couldn’t just invite the man you intended on killing – you had to make it seem like this was a real event that Astarion wanted to host, and plus, he could always use the extra influence he could gain as a bonus for the trouble.

The spawns are made aware of the target of the night and their goal is to assure that no other guests get in the way of your plan. A group is assigned to assure the service for the night, and the rest of them are to remain in the shadows and act as security.

No dress needed to be made for you, but your dearest Lord being the man he is, still insisted on having a few more made for you. It was only fair after ripping open one of them last night, and any additional one was just “a gift for my beloved consort and for the tremendous progress she has made”, really, any reason was good enough for him to shower you with gifts. You welcomed it happily by now, now that you knew he meant well. 

The plan was simple: Astarion stays in the ballroom with the guest to assure his presence, and you lurk in the shadows until you can isolate Virric and take him out, away from the crowd. As prepared as you think you are, anxiety still fills your chest when the night of the soiree finally comes. However it would go tonight, you would finally take down the man who assaulted you, alongside any plan he had against Astarion, and you would make sure he would regret ever approaching you. 

The night is lively, as you watch the many guests arrive and take place around the room. Most of them are harmless, from what you recall of Astarion’s reports over the course of the previous six months: merchants, Dukes, and Lords, all serving different purposes, but none posing a direct threat, for now anyway. Some other night, you might mingle, attached to Astarion’s arm and swaying people your way, but tonight, your role has to be assured in the shadows. You stay in a corner of the ballroom, hidden behind a large pillar away from anyone’s sight. You close your eyes to concentrate on your link with Astarion, looking for an opening into his mind, when you feel the comforting embrace of his own mind.

“Well well, hello there, my sweet. Miss me already?”

You open your eyes back up, answering via your connection, “It’ll take me a while to get used to this.”

“We do have the rest of our lives to experiment with it.”

You swear you could hear his smile in your mind, and you smile to yourself in return,

“I’ve told our guests that you were bedridden and wouldn’t be joining us tonight,” he continues. “They send their best regards.”

“How kind of them. Tell them I said thanks.”

You hear the echo of his inner laughter, “I’ll make sure to pass the word, dear.”

As the evening passes on, the ball room fills with countless guests, making it harder to find a specific someone, but with your new abilities, your vision is the sharpest it’s ever been, allowing you to do just that.

“He’s here," you say.

“Has he seen you?”

“No, I’m still hidden.”

“Good. I’m still welcoming guests, it shouldn’t be too long before I’m free now.”

“And you’ll stay there, just like we planned.” There’s no response from Astarion but you can imagine him frowning; it’s not because you agreed to it that he has to be happy about it. “He’s moving away from the room,” you continue.

“Remember to stay hidden.”

“Yes, my Lord,” you hope he picks up on your tone that borders on condescendance. “Wait… he’s going up.” You pause as you think about your next move. “Stay with the guests, this might go better than I anticipated after all.”

“Be careful.”

“I am–”

“I mean it. Keep in contact at all times.”

You pause, acknowledging his worry. “I will. I promise.”You sever the connection, stopping him from talking in your mind any further. You didn’t lie, you were going to keep in contact, but after Virric was taken care of. For this plan to work, Astarion couldn’t interfere, and this was only happening because of your actions. You had to take accountability for them. 

You follow him upstairs – keeping your distance – where you find him lingering in the hallways; he seems to be searching for something, or someone. You let him advance further into the palace, just to let him believe that he’s as furtive as he thinks he is, all the while making sure he was far enough from the ballroom so that his screams wouldn’t be heard when you would have the satisfaction to kill him.

Finally, when you see him at the door of your room, you speak up from the shadows.

“Looking for something?”

He steps back from the door, but doesn’t seem to recognize your voice, “My apologies, I was simply worried about the Lady of the house–”

“She’s bed ridden,” you cut him off, stepping out of the dark.

When he finally sees you in the dim lighting, his facade drops immediately. His fake smile is replaced by a malicious smirk along with furrowed brows.

“So I’ve heard.”

“What were you looking to find here?” Your tone is grounded, much different than that time in the gardens. This time, you know what you’re up against, and you’re ready.

“I simply wanted to make amends, nothing more, I swear.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, threatening to send you back into that night in the garden, but you don’t let it break your composure.

“I’m sure this is something you could’ve brought up with Lord Ancunín, instead of sneaking around in his palace, into his private rooms.”

He laughs, but there’s nothing warm in his voice. It’s vile, malevolent, and it brings out the worst in you. 

“I’m afraid not. You see, this was a rather personal affair. I couldn’t let him get in the way.”

“Let’s settle it then,” you move forward carefully, drawing out a blade from under your clothing. Finally, back in your element, and stronger than ever.

“You know, I’ve done some research on you following our little encounter. Given, you were presented as Lady Ancunín, I searched with that given name and nothing came up, which leads me to doubt you have officially taken on the name yet.”

“I don’t see how that’s of any importance,” as you approach him, he finally moves on his own, making you two turn in a circle as you keep the discussion going.

“After some digging, I finally found your real name, and – you won’t believe it – but I knew I recognized you from somewhere.”

You scoff, “Awfully sorry to break it to you, but I’ve never seen you in my life. You've got the wrong gal.”

“Of course, I can’t expect you to recognize me, as we never had the chance to be appropriately introduced.” His smirk doesn’t leave his lips as he draws out his knife from its sheath, the same one he used on you at the ball. You would recognize its intricate form anywhere; the handle was a poignant shade of red, so much so you believe it almost shone in the dark. “No, just when we were supposed to meet, you ran away.”

As those words leave his mouth, you notice the family crest on his blade, one that jumpstarts your memory, and your eyes widen in horror as you silently gasp.

Fuck. That’s the man your parents had betrothed you to five years ago. That’s the life you ran away from all those years ago, the man you refused. After everything that’s happened, it feels like centuries ago.

“Cat got your tongue?” He teases as you stay silent.

You try to conceal your shock with some false confidence, exaggerating your tone. “I simply can’t believe my gut feeling was right to run away that dreaded night. Looks like without even meeting you, I knew you would turn out to be a disgusting piece of shit.”

“Oh, such harsh words in the fine mouth of a Lady. We’ll have to work on that.” 

The implications of his words make your skin crawl. “Enough. Tell me exactly why you’re here.”

“Why, isn’t obvious by now? I’m bringing you home, Princess.”

You lift your blade as a warning. “Over my cold, dead body,” the words leave your mouth before you can even process them, but the irony doesn't escape you.

“I would rather not. You’re way more valuable to me alive than dead.” He flips the blade around, almost taunting you with his moves. “But I can afford a few cuts and bruises.”

You’ve heard enough.

With a growl, you finally close the distance between you two, swinging for his head. A bold move, but you take the risk. He dives, making you miss your first blow, but you’re fast to come back around, protecting yourself. Your short sword provided you with the length necessary to provide blow from far enough to be safe from his knife, but you would still need to be careful – you didn’t know what else he could have up his sleeve.

“Little kitty has nails, I see. Your parents did warn me that you were a lot to handle.”

He’s trying to get under your skin and he’s not even trying to hide it. This man is a fucking joke.

You swing again, this time aiming for his side, but he parries your hit. You force against it, until he spins the blade around, pushing you backwards with the move.

He continues, “They didn’t mention you had training in the sword arts, I imagine you would’ve cost more otherwise. Not that you’re any good, but they would’ve had to pay the teachers, whether or not you passed their class.”

“I didn’t need training,” you growl with a ragged breath, before launching another set of attacks, rapid hits from the left and right, only to thrust forward at the last minute, managing to slash the side of his chest.

He steps back, panting, “As the titled Saviour of Baldur’s Gate, I would’ve expected better.”

“I didn’t come here to fight with words, Virric,” you spit the name like venom, “you either start swinging, or I’ll believe that you’re all bark and no bite.”

He laughs, “I love your fire, Princess. I’ll have fun taming it.”

Fucking asshole.

You swing with all the force you have and he barely manages to stop the sword from hitting him. As you push against him to get the blade to his throat, you miss him reaching for another knife that he uses to stab at your waist before ripping it out instantly. 

You push yourself backwards, your free hand flying to your wound as you swear at the searing pain the blade left in your guts. You make space between Virric and you as you inspect your wound; it wasn't enough to kill you, and with another portion of blood you would heal fairly quickly, but for now, it wounded you badly enough to start bleeding profusely over your hand and tainting your dress. When you make eye contact again, he’s standing again, his dishevelled hair falling like curtains over his eyes. He smiles wickedly, almost laughing, as if he had already won the fight.

“Is it that easy to tame your inner fire?”

“Ugh, fuck you, Virric.”

“Oh, we’ll get there,” his chuckle has your stomach turning upside down.

As you straighten back up, two additional figures emerge from the shadows behind you, daggers in hand. Sensing them, you turn around to recognize the men you caught bad mouthing you and Astarion at the ball.

“I believe you’ve met my associates, Emreth and Alstaer Reyrie.”

Brothers, huh. I hope their death puts an end to their bloodline.

“Three against one, really? You think so lowly of yourself that you wouldn’t be able to take on me on your own?” In another life, you might’ve been a bard with the amount of vicious mockery you had out of pocket.

“Oh, I know I can easily bring you on your knees.” The brothers scoff when Virric speaks up. “No, these gentlemen are here for payback. They really didn’t appreciate your words at the ball, and I promised them they would have their chance with you.”

With your heightened senses, you’re able to pinpoint if they were to move a single hair, and you were extremely glad for it in this situation, as they circled you, like a pack of predators waiting to jump on their prey. Little did they know they were the prey in this scenario. There was no way in the Hells that either of them were going to land a single hand on you.

As you lift your blade in a defensive stance, you feel yourself wobble and your head heavier.

Huh?

All of a sudden, your vision blurs and you struggle to stay up, gathering all your force to keep your feet on the ground and your blade steady, attempting your best to hide your struggle. When Virric laughs, crossing his arms in his back, you quickly understand that the dagger in your gut was no ordinary blade. You don’t know what kind of poison he dipped it in, but you weren’t going to be conscious long enough to either figure it out, or to kill Virric yourself – unless you acted fast. When one of the brothers steps forwards carelessly, thinking you were already weak enough, you swing your blade in front of you, taking them by surprise as you slash his throat successfully. His blood splatter awakens something animalistic in you, and you grow to forget the blade in your possession.

In a fit of fury, the brother left alive rushes towards you, but you manage to evade his attack by a hair when you side step as he lunges forward. Baring your fangs as you let your new nature guide your next actions, you slash his face down with your sharp nails, creating new scars along his profile. He screams in pain as his hands fly to his face, rushing away from you to crash against the wall. One look at you in this state is all he needs to gape at the monstrosity before him.

“What in the nine Hells are you?!”

You already took one out, you just need to take care of the other two, this should be easy enough – if you weren’t incapacitated. As the poison settles in, you realise your consciousness is fading, slowly but surely. You try to stand defensively again, only to almost trip, managing to keep yourself up using your blade as support. You quickly come to the realisation that you’re past the point of fighting; you have no choice but to call for backup now. 

Closing your eyes, you focus on your connection to Astarion.

“Astarion…”

No answer. 

Shit, come on.

“Astarion!... Please… I need you…”

Silence. 

You fall on your hands and knees, as your blade wobbles out of your grasp, and you try to reach out for it when you sense Virric walking around you, only for him to kick your blade away from you. It takes every ounce of resolve left in you to keep fighting your body to stay awake. You had to try, even if it was a lost cause. You try to connect to Astarion once more, trying your best to give  him an idea of what had happened to you.

“Astarion… Virric… Poison…  Help…”

You close your eyes, finally drifting to sleep, feeling a pair of unwanted hands already handling your unconscious body.

-

This might get a little messy, I'm sure

Heads rolling for the one I adore

This may become a little brutal if I'm honest

But it's anything for you my dear, I promise

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3

tag list (comment or message me if you want to be added!): @grimistheangerinmystares @silverfangmarks @roguishcat @nyx-knox @anacdoce @jwera @annnagennnie @angeldarkness95 @marlowethebard @hellethil @frankie-mercury

[dalekofchaos]

Dwayne Johnson is a narcissist and an idiot

So Dwayne's stooge Brian Gewirtz says that Cody Rhodes was supposed to react differently when giving up his WM40 Main Event spot to The Rock:

“The idea was supposed to be, it’s like the Nixon-Kenedy debate a little bit where you read the transcript, you’re like ‘Nixon kicked his ass.’ If you watch the actual footage, ‘Oh, he was a sweaty terrible mess.’

Cody, it was supposed to be, in some form, ‘Yeah, Fuckin A! Go get em Rock! You’re going to get your ass kicked, Roman! Let’s do this!’ and this uplifting promo. Instead, he looked like someone shot his dog in the face in the parking lot. —

That, I don’t think, helped matters. It might not have changed or affected anything. Certainly, on paper, and I don’t blame Cody for that, he’s real and one of the realest people I’ve ever met.”

You fucking idiots.

Isn't it scary how Dwyane and the people are around him are always expecting other people to just react with smiles at anything he does just because he's The Rock.

In what fucking world would a man who won the Rumble react the way you wanted to giving up his spot to the Rock.

Dwayne and Brian are still mad that everyone rejected their dogshit fuckin plan for WrestleMania.

You want me to believe Cody was suppose to be cheesing to give up a spot he won? fuck outta there man Was Gewirtz on his knees when he said this?

Taking accountability is a crime in the wrestling business. Just accept that the idea was shit and be glad that the things went the way they went. Cody would've looked like the biggest idiot on the planet (he still did) if he acted the way Brian is describing here.

The pivot after this by Dwayne and team was some of the best television WWE had produced in a minute. So everybody came out better after the change of plans.

Blaming Cody instead of taking responsibility for shitty booking is certainly a choice…..

Him celebrating Rock taking his place would have made him look pathetic.

Him staring daggers at him worked so much better, because why would he be happy for the Rock swooping in & taking what Cody fought hard for?

Dwayne & Brian, you dumbasses.

[nugget-child]

if I ever like a vent post, it’s a 50% chance I’m like ‘oh no, I feel so bad…’ and a 50% chance I liked it cause it was the realest shit I’ve ever read

which one? Now that’s up for YOU, the viewer to decide

[marcsburnerphone]

hi i was gonna comment on pt. 5 of “and they were roomates” but decided to leave my review here instead.

first off, i was very confused when i started reading pt. 5. i didn’t understand why we weren’t waking up in johns arms. and then i realized it. i had a dream.

i had a dream where reader got up the courage to kiss john and they made out n shit n took a nom sexual shower together and fell asleep in her bed cuddling after he got back from his mission. i had a fucking dream about your writing thats how good this is.

ive never had a dream about a piece of literature before, but this has me in a chokehold. it’s phenomenal. overwhelmingly beautiful. dare i say perfect?

secondly, reader wanting to climb john is the realest thing. i want to climb him and kiss his hairy chest so badly.

thirdly, you write their dynamic so beautifully. i dont know if this au will contain smut in the future, but you write the pair so romantically, with an undertone of purity and lust that is so incredibly hard to capture yet you do. Something about it is utterly pure in a way i can only long to experience and i cannot praise enough.

fourthly, when reader said john made her feel alive again and he said it back i nearly cried. because you know what else is alive? romance. they said it was dead but no, these two (or rather you) have brought it back again.

i could go on and on about this fix, but i don’t want to take up too much time so i will stop my ramblings here. also, if its not too much, could i be added to the taglist?

This is the best thing I’ve ever received, grateful and thankful for all the love I’ve received on this series.❕🤍

[celestie0]

why has no one commented on Gojo shaking reader out like a paralysed cat

and reader falling into formal dialect

I’ve been compelled to make comic fanart for kickoff for so long but there’d be such stark difference with ihm I’d probably just draw these crack scenes

I mean their literally comical

also I been wearing those grandma night gowns for years lemme tell u him holding her waist with his work man hands is hot

yk the theory

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS2RdrMMv/

I mean I wear em full length but girllll easy access cause who tf sleeps with a bra

And while he’s in that slutty sweatshirt with his slutty hair and slutty scent after she just drank up the bare expanse of his body

Y/n leashing herself so not to mount him on the ground is the realest shit ever how’d u write sexy in the crackass context

but I just imagine her straight up climbing his back like a koala while he’s still crouched down

and I shan’t blame her

girl it’s 2 in the am I’m so sorry

-spinster anon 😪🥱😴

(ps. I actually haven’t gotten to reading the full chapter yet since I’m not as on topppp of ihm as kickoff so those are just my thoughts from skimming once it just dropped but I promise a more meaningful review is pending once I get to reading it after this weeks plethora of assessments

i never even ended up finishing chapter 2 bc I got emotional and fell asleep after one of the scenes with readers mum I know everything that happens from skimming but I still have to read it)

holy shit it actually is 2 in the am

xx

hiiii spinster bb omg so sorry im all over the place w answering my asks but ive read all of yours and they have me cackling/smiling and will respond soon xd

LMFAOOO yea the part where he shakes her out was so funny in my head. i want to get shaken out by big man gojo 🙁🙁 yea the formal dialect part too was so stupid BAHHAHA

also OMG IF YOU MADE ART FOR ANY OF MY FICS I’D SOB!!!!

PLS YES THATS EXACTLY WHY I MADE HER WEAR GRANDMA GOWNS 😂😂 theyre not traditionally “sexy” but likeeeeee those gown had grandma’s bills PAAAIIIDDDDDD 🤭🤭🤭 yea i wear those gowns too and they’re honestly such a vibe it makes me feel like a lil housewife 😭😭😭

thanks sm for the sexy in the crackass content comment bahahha i was worried the scene wld be a lil too unserious but tbh there will be serious sexy moments too hahah i’m just tryna have fun wherever i can before we get into the angst 💀

thanks sm for your words n review bb i appreciatee ittt ❤️❤️ i hope you got some rest!!

[the--last-great-american-dynasty]

Hi how are you??(i need someone to destract me from my impending doom)

this is the realest shit i’ve ever read tbh

i don’t think i’m the right person to distract you though considering i distract myself from my impending doom by just reading fanfiction and crying over fictional gay people 😭

my roommate and i did just burn cookie dough in a mini waffle maker though so maybe that’s entertaining enough to distract you lol

[mortalheartache]

realest shit i’ve ever read actually, thanks buns

[loverboykirstein]

Shit man, that Sam fic was the realest picture of mental health I’ve ever read. You should be writing novels.

i’ll cry RIGHT now. it was the first time i’ve been kind of vulnerable, and i wasn’t sure how others would take it. i know a lot of people read things to take their mind off of their own struggles, but it felt good to get it out there : )

thank you so so much you sweet soul 🫶🏼

i will make sure i keep writing for you 🩵

[crimeboys]

that curious george viceduo post is fr my favorite post on this website it is the realest shit i’ve ever read

[dilfl0v3rss]

Coco 2 things

You write some in the best shit I’ve ever read. Like oh my god you be having me gigglin and shit 😮‍💨

Where did you make your Tyler license. I’m trynna make one for my friends birthday

💜💜

-🍪

1. thank you baeeee i be tryingggg❤️

2. here’s the linkkkkk. and shoutout to the anon that gave me this link!!you da realest bae frrrr😩

[audhdnight]

“Book you read when you were twelve” is the realest shit I’ve ever seen

OP turned off reblogs so this is my post now. Behold, the "Objective quality vs. degree of ferality" scale

Here are a few of my own personal datapoints:

[a-ngel]

Just watched an Insta reel about some influencer who has resurfaced after three years offline and a direct quote is “when asked what she has been doing for the last three years, she said she has been catching up on sleep” and honestly that’s the realest shit I’ve ever read.

[revelour]

realest shit I’ve ever read !