#what are you au

[potatothots]

Beautiful Hands

Genre: Horror, Thriller

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Eldritch-like Vampire!Steve Rogers x Reader (it’s more like an OC, I guess? Nothing is really mentioned)

Warnings: loss of a loved one, allusions to sex, talk of blood (it’s a vampireish fic, what do you expect?)

Summary: Steve finally makes a move on the beautiful girl from the art store

Note - I'm not your guardian. You read what you want. I can't stop you. If you don't heed the warnings, too bad for you, not me. 

“You’re beautiful,” Steve murmurs to the woman. 

He holds her blushed, warm cheeks in his cold hands. Fingers trace over the soft planes of her face. His enhanced senses allow him to feel her fluttering heart beating from just this touch. 

She's beautiful, much like his Peggy. His wonderful, lovely Peggy…

Inhaling deeply, he lets this woman’s scent overwhelm him to push back the memories of his late love. This woman was here. She was now. Peggy was gone - ash laying in a cemented coffin. This woman had the same spunk, the same confidence as her. A different look, but a beauty was a beauty. Steve was never one to deny imperfect perfection. He was an artist, after all. 

His thumbs brushed against her skin again. She smiled. He returned it. 

“You’re so cold. Were you outside long? You should wear gloves," she said with the tone of a concerned lover. "An artist should protect their hands."

Steve hushed her before her frown could crease her face. He had been outside for a long time. He'd been watching her for months now ever since he met her at the same art store he frequented. She sat behind the register, doodling. Her fingers held the pen with a grace he rarely saw. He found out she was a new employee in a new town wanting a new life.

Steve had stood out in the snow and watched her through her apartment window, willing her to see him, charming her as soon as her sparkling eyes met his through the glass. 

He was on her doorstep before she even had time to open the door. There was a question on her face, but it melted away as soon as he touched her. 

Leaning in, he left a trail of kisses along her jaw. She let out a giggle. His hands slid from her face to her neck. She shivered. 

"Let me in," he whispered.

"Come in, Steve. Please." 

As soon as the door was shut and locked Steve had her back pushed against it. His mouth found her neck, lips, and teeth dragging against the delicate flesh. The heady scent of her mortality - copperish and rusty - invaded his mind. 

He bit down a bit too quickly, a bit too harshly, and it broke the charm. He felt her body try to jerk away. The lavish taste of desire morphed into the sharp zing of fear. 

"What? Wh - Steve? What're you doing?" Tears filled her eyes. They spilled down her cheeks as she spoke. 

"Shh…" His hands went back to cradling her face. "It's okay. I'm not hurting you."

Her eyes dragged over his face. It felt like she was memorizing him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her raise her hand. Her own deft fingers cupped his cheek. Instinctively, he leaned into her touch. It had been so long since anyone had touched him like this. 

"Are you," she paused and swallowed. Her next words came out barely above a whisper. "Are you a vampire?"

The laugh he let out startled them both. It wasn't an absurd statement, not with the bite mark on her neck still wet with blood. He was more shocked she wasn't screaming bloody murder. 

"No, I'm not. Not really."

"Then, what are you?" 

He grinned. "I'm whatever you want me to be." Slowly, he started kissing her again. First her lips, then her jaw. "I can be just Steve, a customer you know who's out looking for a snack." He mumbled between the soft pecks of his lips. 

"I can be Steve, your boyfriend, who's dying to show you how much he wants you…"

Her heart started beating rapidly at that. The hand on his face moved so she could guide him back to her lips. 

"You like that?" 

There was a hushed "yes" against his lips before she was kissing him again. 

"Good. I like that, too." 

Steve took her hand and kissed her fingers. A smile stretched across her face. 

"You know, I love these hands." He murmured, trailing his lips against them. "They're so talented." 

He takes a finger into his mouth. Watching her, he sucks on it. He lets it slide out before taking another one in. 

Her chest rises and falls rapidly. He can feel the blood rushing through her veins, heating her skin. She likes that, too.

[riacte]

not romantic not platonic but a secret third thing [what would happen between earth and the moon if the earth stopped spinning as illustrated by xkcd randall munroe]

[canisalbus]

✦ Fashionably late ✦

[paintedcrows]

Revelations - Little peek at a longer continuation to my Stan & Bill accidental internet buddies comic!

After the reveal, Stan initially doesn't want to tell Ford his (former) internet best friend was Bill Cipher, because he doesn't want him to worry. Stan later doesn't want to tell Ford because he (and Bill) would rather die.

[rotisseries]

that being said I'm not actually always opposed to conflict free fluff I am just opposed to the characters having their claws filed down for it. you can stick them in a coffee shop au it should just still feel like you sat the two worst most insane people on earth in a starbucks

[noodles-and-tea]

Last part whoo!!!

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3 / PART 4

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

How Bill was defeated and captured by Ford in my Gf AU! He basically just tricked Bill into accepting a deal that trapped him within Ford's mind and under his control :]

He may have gotten a little out of hand though....

>:)

Next post :]

[lonelyzarquon]

# taking “undressing her with my eyes” to a whole other level

[mynnthia]

was talking with a friend about how some of dunmeshi fаndom misunderstands kabru's initial feelings towards laios.

to sum up kabru's situation via a self-contained modernized metaphor:

kabru is like a guy who lost his entire family in a highly traumatic car accident. years later he joins a discord server and takes note of laios, another server member who seems interesting, so they start chatting. then laios reveals his special interest and favorite movie of all time is David Cronenberg's Crash (1996), and invites kabru to go watch a demolition derby with him

[rayveneyed]

nanami kento is the kind of man that makes people swoon without even realising it.

he's the kind of man to walk into a luxury store after work, suit jacket folded over one arm and a bouquet of flowers in the other -- his blonde hair still mostly perfect from the high-end pomade he uses. he scours the shelves, frowning to himself, while the attendants whisper and giggle amongst themselves near the tills -- an argument over who will be the one to talk to him, because he's intimidatingly pretty.

("just look at him," one whispers. "he's definitely buying something for a girlfriend."

"a wife," another disagrees. "c'mon. he's giving husband vibes."

someone hums. "but i can't see a wedding band."

"his mother, maybe?" says one other. "oh, i love when guys come in shopping for their mother."

"nobody's mother is getting a bouquet of a hundred red roses--")

eventually, one of them is volunteered as a sacrifice -- smiling and sweet as all attendants should be, she clears her throat. the others, crowded around the till, watch the exchange closely. "excuse me, sir. is there anything we could help you with today?"

her mouth is dry and her hands are clammy -- and when he fixes her with those narrow, burning eyes, her throat bobs.

"ah, yes." and his voice is deep and gravelly and drawling, and her stomach turns. she can only imagine what her coworkers are thinking -- hell, she can only imagine what she's thinking. her mind has stopped short. "my girlfriend likes this brand quite a bit. i thought i'd pick her up something..."

disappointment brews in her stomach -- and it's stupid, she knows it's stupid, because obviously a guy like that is taken. and -- she glances down at the roses -- obviously he treats her super fucking well. of course he does, because why wouldn't he? "oh, perfect! do you have anything in mind?"

"well, actually..."

he ends up buying one of the priciest gift boxes available -- fancy body care and perfume laid out in their signature boxes, decorated with ribbon and dried lavender -- no argument, no fight. he doesn't look for something cheaper, doesn't try to haggle or remove something to decrease the price. he adds, and adds, and adds -- and when she mentions a special offer at the till, a little add on for an extra 2000 yen, he accepts it readily. he inserts a black card into the card machine (of course, a black card), takes the beautifully wrapped bag, and thanks the girls for their services -- and just as he's leaving, his phone rings.

of course he answers the phone with hello, darling. of course he begins to ask his girlfriend about her day, the girls think with some amount of annoyance -- of course. maybe the curse of retail isn't entitled assholes expecting you to wait on hand and foot for them -- maybe it's the handsome men coming in to splurge on their girlfriends while you're painfully single and working for pennies.

[fanaticalthings]

next thing you're gonna tell me is that the butts match 🙄

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[potatothots]

Curious

Genre: Drama, Horror

Rating: Mature/Explicit (for gore)

Pairing: God-like thing Nick Fowler x Reader (it’s more like an OC, I guess? Nothing is really mentioned)

Warnings: loss of a loved one, dead bodies, allusions to killing, allusions to sex, talk of blood (a lot), gore

Summary: Nick is curious about another man’s wife.

Note - I'm not your guardian. You read what you want. I can't stop you. If you don't heed the warnings, too bad for you, not me.

The woman just wouldn’t die. He had his nails dug into her neck. Blood poured out slowly and made his skin feel sticky, like an overly humid day in a swamp. She struggled, holding onto his wrist in a weakening grip. 

"Mace, you treacherous bitch," Nick gritted out between his teeth, followed by a tired sigh. “Just die already.”

"What are you?" she croaked out, eyes full of fear.

He smirked. "Nothing to you, now. Enjoy your nothingness."

He let the redhead slump to the floor with a final crunch and twist of her neck. He hated her so much he didn't bother to absorb any of her life force. It felt poisonous to him. It always had.

She had been someone he thought he could count on once. At least, as far as being loyal. Now, her sickly pale and gaunt skin made her look like the ugly witch she really was. Her dead body fit in with her band of useless bitches trying to be heroes. Can't be a hero when you're dead. His eyes skimmed the carnage of their dead bodies while he sat to relax in a chair. He sipped on a glass of scotch with a single round ice cube. 

The antique wood floors of his house were ruined from the amount of blood and gore that adorned them. There were arterial sprays up the wall. Most of the expensive furniture lay broken or dirtied. Holes, both bullets and fists, littered the walls. Not even his designer suit and tie were spared from the carnage. 

He was beyond mad. The alcohol helped him calm down, but he was still seeing red. 

From his position on the chair, he could see her looking up at him with lifeless eyes. Her mouth parted forever in an agonizing expression. It matched the odd angle her neck was bent at and the harsh bruises that littered her like the garbage she was. 

His long, slender finger tapped on the glass in his hand. He knew Mace wasn't the right thing for him. She was too gullible. For an agent of the CIA, she was too easily manipulated. All he had to do was put a ring on her finger and pretend she was the one - on an undercover mission, no less. He enjoyed playing with her emotions. He fucking loved it when she was rough, but sadly, she couldn't even gain the upper hand. Nick never played fair. He was a God, for fuck's sake. He was above being fair. He hadn’t even needed guns to take down any of those who bombarded their way into his house. 

He snorted, looking over his fingernails and cuticles. He’d need a manicure to fix the damage. At least now he wouldn't need to worry about her or her girl club annoying him. He could go back to siphoning the emotions, thoughts, and prayers of those worshiping him. 

Nick tilted his head back to finish the last of the scotch. What he needed was a real challenge. His own doll he could play with, but that could handle him. The idea sat heavy in his head. Nick was a selfish man. To find someone to just be his had proved impossible in his long life so far. Mortals were fickle and flighty. They were the dancing flame on a candlestick. It was easy to set them alight and watch them burn away or snuff them out. 

A muffled twill caught his attention. Standing, he meandered over the bodies until he could pinpoint the cause of the noise. In the pocket of some random backup Mace had, a phone was going off. Nick pulled it out and looked at the screen. The face of a young woman with a bright smile greeted him. Her name and phone number were above her picture. He hit the accept button and held the phone to his ear. 

“Hey babe, what do you think about spaghetti tonight?” the woman’s voice on the line asked.

Nick smirked, looking over to the owner of the phone’s shredded face. “Sounds perfect,” he answered her. 

“Sorry to bother you at work! I’ll let you go, I know how busy you are. Love you!”

She hung up the phone before he could say anything back. Her peppy voice matched her picture. 

She must be in love with him, Nick thought to himself. 

He inspected the contents of the phone. They looked like a happy couple according to the images in his photo gallery. They sent each other hearts and kissy faces. A few messages were stilted attempts at sexy talk, highlighted by racy images like two first-time lovers.

Except for one. 

Nick’s eyebrow shot up as he read it. The girl he’d just spoken to, the one with the bright smile and an adorable body, had an intelligence about her he hadn’t expected to find. 

“Don’t explain yourself. I got what I needed out of Donna. Do you think you can go and fuck other women? Just remember what I have on you. They’d kill you on the spot.”

He read and reread the message. It was almost alien how different the message sounded from the others exchanged between the two. A grin etched its way across his face. If this girl was really like this, he wondered how much fun he could have before he’d have to kill her. 

Finishing his drink, he flung the glass away so he could text her. 

Bby, look nice 2nite. I’ll get that wine u like n we can have fun after din <3

A few moments later she responded. really???????

nethng 4 u

:*

It physically pained him to type that way and send those emojis. Yet, he was curious...

[demaparbat-hp]

He truly did.

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

I am incredibly serious right now when I beg you all, please, and if you have Twitter or Tiktok or whatever to please spread the word: click on an author's profile on Ao3.

You want to know if an author has written more? Want to know if they're still writing? Want to see more from them? Want to know if they've written a trope or kink or sex scenario you enjoy?

Click on their name. And look at their profile.

I cannot tell you how many times in the last six months someone has read a new or newer fic of mine and said they (a new reader who has read nothing else I've done) "can't wait to see what you do next!" I've written 50+ fics and over a million words already.

"I don't know if you're still writing..." click on my profile. I am. I literally wrote a 128k+ fic for that ship last month.

"Would you ever do X?" "Please do Y!" I already did. Click on my name and look at my works.

Archive of our Own is a library. It's an archive. Not social media. It is your responsibility to fight back against the laziness that corporate algorithms have trained into you.

Click my author name. Just click it. Just click it.

Before you demand more, or ask if a writer will do XYZ, or wonder if the author still writing, or anything - click on their profile. Click on the author's profile.

I'm not trying to be mean or condescending or anything like that. I'm just exhausted. It's disheartening and frustrating to repeat myself ad nauseam, because someone couldn't take thirty seconds to do the tiniest bit of work to see if I've written lately, if I've written more for their ship, or scan my works to see if I've written what they're asking for. Please. Please. I'm begging.

Click the author's name, and explore before you ask.

[trekkerac]

this is just what anxiety is like context

[fairsweetlonging]

truth serum / system reveal au where shen qingqiu gets hit with an uncloaking spell that reveals the system in the reflection of his eyes every time it pops up.

during one of his missions, in the treasure hoard of some dragon-like creature, he finds a golden, oval shaped hand mirror, its gaudy style more victorian based than anything (airplane you hack!), that doesn't seem to do anything when he looks into it. but when he does, it reveals the system's screen in his eyes.

he doesn't notice this, of course, because he can't see it, and the system, surprisingly, stays quiet.

the peak lords think he's cursed.

maybe mu qingfang is the first to notice, during the mandatory post mission check-up, when shen qingqiu is scrolling through his most recently accumulated points and mu qingfang can see the strange vividly-blue lines reflected in his pupils. it's gone when shen qingqiu blinks, like it was nothing but a trick of the light.

it comes out when yue qingyuan is visiting and, just as he's done laying out the plans for a new mission, shen qingqiu's eyes glaze over and a bright blue box takes over the whole of his iris. shen qingqiu goes quiet; the thing in his eyes moves, shifts, pulses for a second, like static worms crawling all over his pupils. then he blinks, and it's gone, and shen qingqiu accepts the mission that yue qingyuan was almost sure he would decline.

maybe there is an intervention, when the peak lords corner shen qingqiu at qian cao peak and try to figure out what's wrong, subjecting him to all kinds of treatments and curse-finding spells that turn up empty, they can't find anything.

of course, the silencing threat is still very much up and running. at first shen qingqiu was kind of confused by the whole ordeal, but when the peak lords start describing a "strange blue box", he realizes, with sickening suddenty, that they're describing the system. and he can't say anything.

this only makes everything worse, because their fellow peak lord now keeps evading every question and acts like he doesn't understand. liu qingge points right at his face and asks, "that blue box, what is it?" and shen qingqiu laughs nervously and starts talking about how bright the weather is and surely it's the sky and nothing to worry about!

even worse, during the intervention the system thought it was a good idea to start talking to him, so now even the peak lords who hadn't seen it and who might have been persuaded by light tricks and reflections, get a first row view that no, that definitely isn't a trick of the light.

they try to do the whole thing of "are you in danger, blink twice" but shen qingqiu can't even do that because it's still a direct admittance!

maybe eventually he starts saying vague confirmations that don't actually confirm anything, like "this master hears what you're saying", or maybe he goes with a classic "this master can neither confirm nor deny that." but the system starts warning him for that too and eventually he stops saying anything, which worries the others more.

luckily mu qingfang catches on that every time they ask a direct question about the box or shen qingqiu says anything vaguely confirming, it appears. it doesn't appear when they ask about curses or demons, so it must not see that as a threat.

for a little extra angst: maybe the peak lords keep pressuring him for answers, and at some point shen qingqiu gets fed up and snaps out something like, "why don't you understand that i'm not allowed to answer that!" the system counts this as a direct admittance, threatening it's existence. so it punishes. shen qingqiu has a qi deviation so bad it lasts two weeks and takes two people every day to cleanse his meridians. the system doesn't appear in that time. it doesn't appear for a long while after that, either. the peak lords stop asking, mainly because shen qingqiu will instantly leave the room if they do. they don't stop searching for a cure, though.

shang qinghua returns from a business trip and catches on the second someone mentions a blue box and forced silencing.