#Like. There's so much else to chew on here.

[r0-boat]

heh…. *smirks* fem reader slapping the kings + minhyeok’s (if u can) asses and flees the scene…. Better yet if she slaps AND pinches their ass

Oh God.... Reader would be so screwed. Either way your pussy getting blasted. But yeah let's see the reactions!!

Fem! Reader clapping them demon cheeks (and Minhyeok)

Cw: Crack, This isn't serious I'm sorry, I tried I really did.

Satan

There you were obediently walking behind Satan. Your eyes drift downward. You can still somehow see his ass through his otherwise baggy pants. Your fingers flex as you remember the number of times Satan kicked, slapped, or punched his subordinates in the ass. You can still feel the sting on your own bottom the first time he had sex with you when you came to hell. Your breath shakes your palms become sweaty Your body moving before you can even hope to comprehend the consequences.

*SMACK*

"auuh~"

Your eyes shot wide open as you heard a noise coming from the demon of wrath's mouth. A noise you've never expected. High-pitched and squeaky.

Your very soul felt weight of 100 cinder blocks When Satan slowly turned around. Instead of screaming cussing you out or smacking me back He just smiled. A wide manic grin as he cracked his knuckles. "If ya wanted to fuck sooo bad~ You could have just asked." In an uncharacteristic sing song tone.

Mammon

there are plenty of times where you stared at the backside of this big ass mountain of a man. He always gropes your ass so Maybe it's time for a little payback. You're winded up your hand and swang.

Your hand stung. His cheeks weren't soft and inviting like they looked; they were firm and hard like rock.

Mammon will just smack it back. It starts becoming a weird tradition for you guys to smack each other's ass every time you see each other.

Leviathan

Do it and you will die...

But if you don't do it and you do it to other people you will also die...

SMH you can never win.

Also, Leviathan is a coward and won't smack your ass even once, not even during sex. Perhaps you need to earn it by really pushing his buttons and being a brat.

Beelzebub

Perhaps it was more fun and playful when you smacked his ass. He let out a goofy laugh before wrapping his arms around you and taking you someplace else. Beelzebub loves it when you're playful. You should definitely do it more often. He hates when you're not as touchy with him as he is with you.

Where he took you? A private place So he can fuck you silly.

Lucifer

A smack permeates the room everyone is silent staring wide eye at the crime that just take it place before their eyes.

You just smacked their King Lucifer the embodiments of pride in the ass. They fear of what their king might do to you yet they applaud you for your braveness. Marbas is already planning your obituary, a certain dragon has never been so jealous.

Lucifer just turns around the look on his face doesn't seem any different He walks toward you calmly and respectfully until he grabs you by the collar yanking you close to whisper.

"my office 9 pm You know what to wear."

Belphegor

You slap his ass and he falls forward smacking face first into the floor. Don't worry he's fine He's just sleeping.

Asmodeus

Rest in semen my friend...

Minhyeok

The first time you did it Minhyeok yelps in surprise hopping forward hands covering his ass. He gives you the most offended look but he's ever given you when he looks back at you as you make your escape.

He chews you out later the next time you do it.

You do it so much now, he expects it. Well, he's cooking lunch. You snicker as you creep forward. You wind up your hand, but instead of a smack, Minhyeok's hand intercepts and grabs your arm, inches before your hand could smack his ass.

With your arm in his grip, his other arm picks up a roll of tape off the counter. An evil smile you've never seen before appears on his face.

Here you are in your tape prison on the couch as he hand-feeds you.

You've never fucked with him again.

[aventurineswife]

To lighten up my last request, may I have a Therta with a bumbling moron of a partner, like others are baffled at how someone like y/n got to be with a genius of all people, like huh, I just imagined them unable to figure out how to open something they just tear it open with their teeth and look proud about it, but then it zooms out as Therta is looking fondly and lovingly at her partner while either Screwllium/Mei looks concerned yet confused on how this pairing even happened, oh btw there was a "Tear here" type of label on the thing they were attempting to open, lmao

Genius is Patient. Somehow

Summary: In the pristine laboratories of the Clock Tower, the universe’s brightest minds gather to explore cosmic secrets—accompanied, inexplicably, by you. A lovable disaster with zero regard for instructions, you win the heart of the brilliant and aloof The Herta. While others look on in disbelief at your chaotic methods (and questionable snack-opening tactics), Herta sees something else entirely: charm, simplicity, and a much-needed disruption to her calculated world.

Tags: The Herta x Reader, Fluff, Comedy, Established Relationship, Idiot x Genius Dynamic, Soft Herta Moments, Found Family (kind of), Domestic Chaos, Love Against All Logic.

Warnings: Mild language (sarcasm and teasing), Chewing objects not intended to be chewed (please don’t try this at home), Absurd levels of fluff, Secondhand embarrassment, Confused Characters (Screwllum and Ruan Mei).

It was another perfectly calibrated afternoon in the depths of the Clock Tower—quiet, sterile, orderly, filled with the sounds of humming machinery and occasional bursts of arcane-mechanical energy from the Simulated Universe core. In this pristine sanctum of innovation, three of the universe's greatest minds convened.

And then… there was you.

"Hey, Herta, this box thingy you gave me won’t open." You stood near the observation platform, squinting at a small sealed container—glossy, high-tech, and adorned with clear instructions: “Tear Here.”

Naturally, you didn’t see the label.

So, like a true innovator of chaos, you brought it up to your mouth and chomped down on one end with a low grunt of determination.

RIP.

CRUNCH.

The sound echoed through the chamber like the universe itself recoiling in slow-motion horror. Pieces of the now-mutilated package dangled from your lips as you triumphantly held up the torn contents, looking immensely pleased with yourself.

“I did it,” you mumbled through your teeth, absolutely beaming.

A long silence followed. Ruan Mei blinked twice. Slowly. Screwllum didn’t blink at all, but the way he rotated his head 12 degrees sideways betrayed his deep, computational concern.

“…There was a label,” Ruan Mei murmured, pointing gently at the box. “It said ‘Tear here.’”

“Yeah, I did tear it. With my teeth,” you said, shrugging. “Same outcome.”

“You bit it open,” Screwllum corrected, his synthetic voice dry and baffled. “With your face.”

At that very moment, the camera of the lab’s floating drone panned out—revealing The Herta, seated elegantly on a plush, cosmic-threaded chaise in the corner. Legs crossed, chin resting on her palm, and expression utterly unreadable… save for one detail.

She was smiling. That sly, soft smile. The kind that only came out when she wasn’t watching data streams or making fun of someone for being two IQ points short of a stable black hole.

That smile was reserved for you.

“Adorable, isn’t it?” Herta said dreamily, tilting her head. “Like watching entropy take human form and try to make lunch.”

Screwllum turned to her. “With all due respect, Madam Herta, how did this… individual become your partner? Their methodology lacks—” He paused, watching you pick up a second snack pack and immediately go for another bite. “—everything.”

Herta didn’t answer right away. Instead, she walked over to you, took the mangled remains of the box from your hand, and held your face between her gloved fingers with infuriating tenderness.

“There’s something refreshing,” she said, “about someone who doesn’t overcomplicate things.”

“I’m not sure they complicate anything,” Ruan Mei whispered, still baffled.

“You mean I’m simple?” you asked, slightly confused.

Herta leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper just for you. “I mean you make the stars feel a little quieter. A little softer. And you remind me that even a genius needs something to laugh at and something to love.”

You blinked, suddenly warm and flustered, and maybe—just maybe—a little proud.

“Also,” she added, pulling you in by your collar, “you’re really good at opening snack packs.”

There was a beat of silence. Then Ruan Mei slowly turned to Screwllum. “They’re in love.”

“…Statistically improbable,” Screwllum muttered.

Herta smirked, grabbing your hand and dragging you off. “Come on, entropy. I’ve got a containment field that needs sabotaging, and you’ve got just the right level of recklessness for it.”

“Do I get to bite it open?” you asked excitedly.

“You’ll know when the time is right.”

And somewhere, across the far edge of the cosmos, one of Herta’s 281 puppets blinked in mild confusion… before smiling, too.

Because genius comes in many forms. And sometimes, it comes wrapped in bubble wrap, upside-down, and trying to chew through the universe one package at a time.

[chrissv4mp]

❀ don't forget about me

♫ now playing . . . track four: don't forget about me

warnings. angst, small mentions of alcohol, crying.

synopsis. in hopes to forget your ex-girlfriend, you decide to attend a party—however, everything and everyone at said party reminds you of billie. and when she really shows up, you're not sure if you'll be able to truly forget about the girl.

words. 1.2k

letters. this one's kind of all over the place???? anyway, i hope everyone's enjoying the marathon so far !!! thank you for all the love on the fics so far :)

PETALS TO THORNS WRITING MARATHON

it's been a few weeks. maybe a month or two.

you're not even sure what day it is—just know that billie hasn't tried reaching out since you broke things off. you've been trying to convince yourself you're okay. that it didn't affect you much.

but tonight, at a party you attended to forget about it all, you're slowly unraveling.

all the loud music, tipsy partygoers, spilled drinks, and blinding light—it's all giving you a headache. every time you move, someone waves you over—people who swear they've known you for years, but you don't remember them at all. it's always the same outcome: they introduce you to new people, get caught up in the conversation, and then forget that you're even there because you're so quiet.

every single thing here is the exact opposite of what you needed to forget about.

the energy, the smiles, the stupid jokes.

they all tie back to billie somehow. which is really funny, considering that when you went to get a drink earlier, you saw her rubbing up against some girl you've never seen in your life.

she seemed to be having fun—seemed to be having better luck of forgetting than you have.

that stupid smile was plastered on her face, one hand around the girls waist, the other holding a red solo cup.

you didn't do anything. why would you? you were the one who ended things in the first place. billie had every right to be moving on at this point—it's just that seeing her with somebody else is making your chest tighten with anger. or sadness. no—it's fear.

fear that she's already forgetting about you.

though it doesn't make sense, because that's what you want. you never wanted to think about her again, so why does it hurt so much seeing her have the time of her life while you were still soaking in the despair of the breakup?

the question is too heavy to be stuck on at a party where you're supposed to be enjoying yourself. so, you hide away from the noise and sneak into the downstairs bathroom. once the door shuts, you close your eyes and sit on the toilet lid, sighing in relief. or irritation. you don't know.

but then the door opens—and so do your eyes.

billie.

"shit, sorry—" she gasps, then stops when she realizes you're not using the bathroom. and that you're you. "oh."

you're silent. shocked. still a little overwhelmed. billie chews her gum slower now, like she's trying to figure out what to say next.

"um," she coughs. "hi."

"hi," you echo awkwardly. you stand, rubbing your temple. "i'll go, i wasn't even—"

she grabs your arm before you can pass through the doorframe. not harsh. not gentle. just firm.

your breath hitches. your eyes flick up to hers. she's already looking at you, eyes softer now.

"...how have you been doing?" she asks. quiet. like she's scared you'll run if she speaks any louder.

you soften—just slightly—and turn to face her. your voice is shaky. "terrible."

her lips twitch downward. "mmh. me too."

"didn't look like it," you reply, a tiny bite laced in your words.

billie catches it. but she doesn't comment. she only continues with the conversation—a conversation you shouldn't be having as exes.

"everybody's gotta cope somehow, no?" she laughs, small. because it's not funny. it's not a joke. it's the truth.

you inhale. sharp. "billie, we shouldn't be doing this right now—"

"doing what? we're only—"

"we shouldn't be pretending like we're still together," you say, louder now. but the bite is gone. "we're not."

billie is the one who goes quiet now. like she's a little shaken by the shift in your voice.

she leans back against the doorframe. staring at the cluttered sink counter. you sigh again, heavier this time, and sit back down.

"sorry," she breathes, glancing over.

you shake your head. "it's not your fault. it's mine for thinking it was a good idea to come to this party in the first place."

billie straightens up. "it's not your fault either," she assures. his eyes meet yours. "i'm sure you have your reasons. same as me and anybody else here."

you don't reply. your eyes are glued to the loose screw on the doorknob.

billis can't look away from the way you pick at your cuticles.

"what's your reason?" you finally ask.

she blinks. "trying to forget."

"about?" you push. your knees come up to your chest. your chin rests on top.

"everything," she answers after a beat. shrugs. "the pressure. the deadlines... you."

you flinch. and billie notices immediately.

she doesn't know what to do—not like she used to. in times like these, she would've come over and held you. kissed you. told you everything was going to be okay. that she'd love you no matter what. that she'd be by your side forever.

forever came too soon.

"i don't want you to forget about me," you mumble, muffled against your knees.

billie's mouth pulls into a smile at one end. "i don't wanna forget about you either... but we need to move on."

you bite your lip, trying to blink away fresh tears.

silence envelopes the two of you.

thick. fragile.

you don't know why you're still talking to her. and you're sure she doesn't know either.

then you speak. "y'know... i thought we'd be together 'til we were older."

you think back—to how sweet she was when a little boy ran up to her at the mall.

how he was crying, lost—had been for a while. and she took him to the food court to get something to eat before bringing him to security. she was good with kids like that. always made them feel safe in minutes.

you wanted kids with her. wanted to go through the whole adoption process with her by your side.

but now, as you think about all the nights she came home past midnight from the studio, you wonder if she'd ever have time to be there.

you run a hand through your hair. stressed. overwhelmed. too many thoughts are clashing in your head. you swear you'll explode if another one slips in.

billie still hasn't said anything—but she's shuffled closer to the door.

"stay for me," you plead. a contradiction. you shouldn't be doing this—but now you want to.

"please."

no reply.

she only stares, breathing a little unsteady now.

"can you say something?" you beg again. voice smaller. scared. maybe desperate.

billie sighs softly, dragging a hand down her face. you can feel the emotions radiating off her. same as yours. it's unbearable.

"i have to go," she mumbles. her voice lifts at the end—like a question.

"billie." your eyes are glassy when she looks over. and billie nearly breaks.

she bites her tongue. holds back the words clawing their way up her throat—knowing they'll only pull her deeper into you.

"y/n, i can't stay," she says. and there's no softness in it anymore. just finality.

"we're not... together anymore. you said that yourself. and i don't want to keep myself tied to you for any longer."

your tears finally fall. slow. hot. relentless.

"i'm sorry," she says. quiet.

then she's gone.

and you don't think you'll ever be able to forget her after that.

tags. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @bilsbunni @livvydunneness @chxhir0 @tan1shere @cierraonline @dandelions4us @rumbussa @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @mybluebossanova @fleurfiles @justtr @greenbttrflyy @billsbaby @bilsova @lottiepierce @northlndnisred @asterisk-eyes @dragoneyelashart @xxangelfarrlzxx @ilomiloblohshh @hanoxoxo @meliciousmel13 @jul3esz @rightarion @eilishssiennaa @skinnyhmhas @dragoneyelashart @thinkshespretty @cnnibalize @canthelpit0 @hailwiggly @karaeilish @ttheeblueee @drunkinyourbenz @aka-persephone @bitchesbrokenpromises @jayjaywetforbils @slvt4subchratt @cantlandonmyfeet @tezzzzzzzz @emi-inspace @sacred3ugene @ariieeesworld

[atsadi-shenanigans]

FSBE 47 - Screaming Crying Throwing Up

Hoo boy.

On AO3.

You keep your shit together long enough to get up to your—the girls�� room. Past everybody carousing and talking and drinking below (glance and you spot all the others, all down there you need to move). Make it up to the room all normal. Shut the door all normal.

Catch sight of your meager pile of shit to one side and the first sob bleats out.

Should’a known this was coming. Things was getting nice between you, so now it’s broken. It has to. You don’t get nice things, especially with other people.

Oh, he’ll still be here. Seems interested in friendship. But wait until he starts to figure his shit out. Until he starts looking for what he actually wants and realizes he can do a lot better than your sorry ass. The consolation prize. The one who, who…

Oh god. He’s been used like that perdner his whole life. What’d he say? “Crawl onto his back?”

The nausea hits sharp. You got enough time to scramble for a clean chamberpot before half chewed bread and acidic wine come surging back up.

He’s been trafficked. Right up until the day y’all fucking met. And he attached himself to you (the weakest link, the easiest target) and you get why. You do. You ain’t mad (entirely) at him.

Your stupid fucking virgin ass couldn’t see it. Not enough experience to catch the hints you see now clear as fucking day. He’s fresh outta hell, and you didn’t even imagine how bad.

He said you couldn’t’a known. And he’s a damn good liar. But you should’a.

(You know you ain’t being fair.)

If you wasn’t such a wilting fucking violet when it came to sex, maybe you would’a.

(Also not fair.)

You cannot have a relationship with him. Not just outta that. Now when he’s that broken up. It ain’t right (you hurt him). He needs time (what if you hurt him again, you probably wouldn’t even know). Needs to build himself as a person before he makes decisions like fucking you. Otherwise you’re just taking advantage. It’s making you into the kinda person he had to climb onto his back for—

Another heave. You ain’t bringing up much, anymore. Good thing you didn’t each much.

He’ll be your friend, he said. Y’all can still be that. It’s safer (for you or for him?) (you need to shut the fuck up). Let him work through his shit, and see if there’s anything to build on after.

If he don’t leave you. Just like Ryan fucking Meadows. And this time, it’ll be your fault. Because you put out this time—when he didn’t want to, when he just showed you that whatever grasp on consent he’s got, it is fighting for its goddamn life.

Can’t win when you deny sex. Can’t win when you give it. What a fuckup you are. Where the fuck did that handkerchief go? Oh, it’s totally fucking sodden. Great.

Everything hurts. This whole place is such utter shit. You hurt for your pathetic, fucking failed relationship. For what you thought, like a dumbfuck, it could have grown into. And you hurt for him. What he’s been through.

No matter what else happens, you are getting every one of these shitheads to Baldur’s Gate and y’all are going to kill that fucking vampire lord.

Noise on the stairs. Voices. Fuck. That one’s Karlach. They’re coming up here and for the second time (third?) in your life, you’re a snotty, blubbering mess over a fucking boy (that you have technically ra—)

You slam the lid over the chamber pot. Duck behind the privacy screen to the tub filled with gray water that ain’t been changed out. Can’t be picky now. You splash it on your face, try to force down the beginnings of hyperventilation.

The door opens.

“Snuggles!” Karlach booms as she all but thuds inside. “You finally made it over here—ah, mate, let us change it out first, yeah?”

“I’m good!” you say. Too high. Way too sharp. Sinuses clogged to hell.

Motherfucker.

Silence falls.

You almost put your whole head into that tub. Wonder for a second how much it hurts to suck in a lungful of dirty water and just suffocate.

Light footsteps approach the screen.

No, no, no.

“I’m coming in,” Shadowheart says.

Fuck.

She peers around the privacy screen. Takes a look at you—eyes hot and puffy, probably bloodshot, face splotched to hell cause you are an ugly crier. She sighs. “What’s happened?”

***

You tell them the shape of it. Nothing in detail, not Astarion’s past. That ain’t none of their business unless he decides to let it be their business, and you already used the man enough. But they get the gist of it: whole thing between y’all started bad, he’s not okay, you breaking it off cause he needs time. They ain’t, in no way, shape or form, to go after him about it. It was one-hundred-percent your goddamn decision and you ain’t mad.

They all but shove a bowl of honest-to-god stew at you. Gale’s been holding out a little, it seems (he shared with everyone in the room, but since you was holed up all separately…) (can’t hold that against them, either; you’re fucking people over left and right).

Eating is the last damn thing you want to do right now, but all three of them—even Lae’zel—practically stare you down until you take a spoon. You take one bite. And your body realizes it’s got a great thing going and no one on Earth could stop you from licking that bowl clean.

Fucking barley grits.

By the time you’re done, Lae’zel sits with her back to the wall, sharpening her various blades. Karlach sits next to her, a cloth in one hand, her ax in the other, the air smelling of something almost minty as she oils her weapon. Shadowheart has moved to the center of the room and seems to be doing some kinda stretching exercises. Sharran yoga? (Different cultures aside, would that even be a thing?)

You sit on the bed, waiting for their judgment. Their pity, maybe.

But Karlach is the first to break the silence with a shake of her head. “I can’t believe that’s when he told you.”

Shadowheart fucking snorts.

He gets one of the biggest pieces of news in his life, his whole future at stake, and decides to tell you he’s been faking it for his own security the whole time. And also he needs help.

“He…” you start. Can’t really find anything better. “God bless his little heart.”

“I’m surprised he told you at all,” Shadowheart says.

Lae’zel mutters something in githyanki, which—interesting—Shadowheart seems to follow to some degree?

Then something clicks, and you look at y’all’s cleric again. She’s usually cool and calm, true. But this…wasn’t a surprise to her, was it?

“Did you know?” you say.

She comes outta some “reaching for the ceiling” pose. Looks at you a second, before turning and twisting to do the stretch with her other arm.

“I knew he wasn’t the serious type—no offense. The man practices pick-up lines when he thinks none of us can hear.”

“I thought that was cute,” Karlach says.

“It was the sort of drivel they print to get teenage girls to buy cheap novels,” Shadowheart says. “Again, no offense.”

There’s a whining in your ears. You almost flap a hand to brush away the mosquitoes that must be nearby, before remembering you ain’t on Earth, ain’t near living water, and this whole fucking magical place is cursed to fuck.

“What’d’ya mean, ‘not serious?’” you say.

Without looking back, without breaking her pose, she says, “Astarion is a fop and a rake.”

That takes a second to translate.

Karlach winces. “Bit blunt, Shads.”

But Shadowheart shrugs. “You’re an adult human, I assume, and we could all die any moment. Sex tends to be a good physical release. I thought you both knew what you were getting into.”

You was just stupider than any of them realized. Great. Neat. Drowning looks better and better.

“Join me,” Shadowheart says. “I can show you some basic forms. It helps.”

Lae’zel perks up at this, eyes and lips thin. “I have been adequately training her—”

“She’s older for a human and needs to stay limber.”

“Older?” you say. “I ain’t even halfway through the average lifespan!”

Shadowheart’s expression settles into cool amusement when she drops back down into a crisscross applesauce sit. “You’re younger than me, I think, and perhaps the wizard. But everyone else, leeches excluded, is younger than you.”

What. You squint at her twenty-five-year-old looking ass. “So how old are you?”

She leans down to brace her palm on the floor and twist a bit. “I’m not entirely certain. I’m a half-elf, so I don’t age as you do. But it’s more than forty, I know.”

First, the fuck does she mean she ain’t certain? How the fuck do you lose track that much? (Farmstead, part of you whispers.) Second, you look to Karlach, because there’s no fucking way.

“Yeah,” Karlach drawls. “Thing about the hells is they don’t really have years? Definitely not birthday parties. I’ve got to be in my twenties though. I think.”

She thinks.

“Are you even old enough to drink?” you say.

Karlach looks at you. Then lifts up her tits and says to Shadowheart, “Hey, am I old enough to drink?”

So everyone notices. Even Lae’zel’s eyes take on a gleam.

Which only draws your attention to her. “You?”

She gives you one of her “what in the istik foolishness” sneers. “We gith spend our lives traversing the astral planes in search of our ghaik quarry. We watch your mud-built civilizations rise and crumble.”

Shadowheart—face turned away—rolls her eyes.

Well fuck, there’s something at least. If she was younger than you, you might have to flip a table about it—

“As near as I can estimate, I was hatched nineteen of your years ago.”

“Motherfucker!” you say. Catch her glare. “It’s a expression. I’m fucking around fighting a brainworm cult with a bunch of literal fucking infants.”

Lae’zel opens her mouth—yeah yeah, she can rip your spine out through your sinuses—but Shadowheart cuts her off.

“And you?” she says.

“Thirty-five.”

And this bitch snickers. Catches your glare but the smug smile tugs on her lips. “Our resident vampire, in addition to being a bloodsucker, has also been a cradle snatcher.”

Oh look, they got an expression for that.

You try to give her your best Bea Arthur flat stare, but she’s too busy smirking to herself. So you follow Karlach’s lead. Grab your (bigger) tits and heft them up. “I dunno, Shadowheart, am I too young?”

And everyone notices. Apparently Faerun is entirely bisexual. Neat.

A blast of hot air ruffles your hair. Y’all look to Karlach, whose ribcage shows through the hot glow in her chest, little flames licking along her hair and nails.

“Don’t mind me!” she says, a touch too high. “It’s just been a while, yeah? Can’t say I blame Fangs, though.”

Who you kind of broke up with.

God, that hurts. But a little, tiny bit less so. These guys around, food in your stomach, it all eases everything. Just a bit. Enough you don’t march over and drown yourself in the dirty bathwater.

Starting over as friends. As you should be to give Astarion the time and space he needs to fill himself out as a person. Figure out where his edges are before he goes and gets all tangled up with yours.

You set the bowl on the floor. Slide off the bed and out from under the blanket draped over your shoulders. Shuffle over to join Shadowheart as she scooches over and wow, you are not as flexible as you thought. You wince as your spine and your hips pop as you move.

“He told you, though,” Karlach says. “That’s got to be a good thing.”

You really hope so. Hope Astarion is doing okay.

[eviemonroeer]

The Monroe Effect: Chapter 39

Set during Season 7, Episode 2 of ER. Spoilers if you haven't seen the show.

Warnings: Angst

WC: 2.5 k

ER story belongs to original creators, just adding on my own original charter.

Taglist: @pleasecallmeunhinged, @rainmg, @arigoldsblog, @queenslandlover-93, @hagarsays, @antisocialfiore, @snowflames-world, @guiltypleassure243, @omgbrianab, and @dizzybee03

MASTERLIST

Flipping the piece of French toast in the pan, I watched as Meghan sat in her highchair, enjoying some cut up pieces of my first couple of slices and some strawberries. She was really starting to get into “regular food”, and it was fun trying new things out and seeing what she liked. I turned back to the pan with a smile, trying not to burn this piece. However, a loud shriek from her caused me to turn. Carter had just walked in. 

“Morning.” He said to me hesitantly, before turning to Meghan. “Good morning sweetheart.” He said and walked over to her, bending down beside her. “What are you eating?”

“French toast.” I confirmed and added my latest slice to the plate on the counter. “Want some? Or I can make something else.”

Carter opened his mouth and Meghan happily fed him one of her pieces. She had been so excited since he returned, she barely wanted to leave his side. “No thanks.” He said as he chewed. He kissed her forehead and grabbed one of her strawberries. “I actually have to head out.” 

“Oh.” The noise was small as it came out of my mouth. I was kind of disappointed. I thought we would have the morning together to reacquaint as a family. “Where are you going?” 

“There’s a meeting in about an hour I thought I’d go to.” 

“Meeting?” But then it clicked. “Oh, a meeting. That’s good.” Meghan reached up again and offered him another bite, which he took with a growl that made her laugh. 

“After I finish, I’ll swing by, change, and we can head to the hospital.” 

“Are you sure you want us there?” 

“Yeah. They wanted you informed on the plan.” 

“Then we will be ready by the time you get back.” I gave a half smile and Carter grabbed one more cut of the baby’s breakfast and left the kitchen. 

No kiss. No hug. Not even a goodbye. 

This was going to be rough. 

I rocked Meghan gently, giving her a bottle, as we sat in the waiting room. Carter would look over every so often, giving her a small smile before checking his watch. He was very fidgety, playing with his hands and occasionally bouncing his leg. I knew Mark and Kerry would be late, it only took one trauma to backtrack them. But Carter was ready to be back in action and this wasn’t helping. It gave me flashbacks to after his surgery. I prayed Meghan would not have his impatience. 

“Have they started teaching rounds yet?” A familiar voice came from behind us. 

“No, the residents are waiting for you in ICU.” 

“Alright, tell them I’ll be there in a minute.” 

“And you need to schedule the surgical service committee meeting.”

“Tomorrow afternoon. 

“You have a mastectomy.”

“Well, whenever.” 

“Dr. Benton.” Carter said, causing the man to stop in his tracks. He turned, Reese in his arms. 

“Hey, Carter. Evie. What are you two doing here?” 

“I have a meeting.” 

“Oh, right.” 

Carter and I both stood. “Hi Shirley.” 

“Hi, Dr. Carter. I need you to sign off on last month’s OR expenditure report.” She told Benton. 

“I’ve never done that.” 

“You do now. I take care of it. You just sign it.” Benton took the packet and began looking it over. “Suit yourself. I need it by 4:00.”  

“Important attending stuff?” Carter asked. 

“Oh, yeah, well.” 

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks. Oh, man, you look good.” 

“Couldn’t look much worse than the last time you saw me. He’s gotten big.” 

“Yeah. So has she.” He gestured to Meghan. 

“Hi Reese.” 

Benton tapped his son and showed him to wave, which he did. I handed Carter the bottle. “Hi Reese.” I signed. “This is Meghan.” I tried my best with only one available hand. He waved at the little girl. I chuckled and took the bottle back from him when she started fussing.

“Well, hey, you’re in a hurry.” Carter offered a way out of the conversation and sat. 

“Yeah. I’ll, I’ll see you later, alright?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe. We’ll see.” I sat back down as he held up crossed fingers.

“Ah. Good luck Carter.” Benton turned and walked out of the waiting room. Carter began tapping his fingers again. 

“You’re starting to make me nervous.” I whispered, trying to make a joke out of it. 

“Sorry.” He immediately stopped and sat up straight. Well, that wasn’t what I intended. I closed my eyes a moment and took a silent deep breath. It was okay, everything was going to be okay. Meghan finished her bottle, and I stuck it back in the diaper bag for now, going to place her on my shoulder. “I can do that.” Carter jumped in. 

“Sure.” I handed her to him and laid the burp cloth over his shoulder so nothing would get on his suit jacket. Carter propped her up and gently pat her back until she burped. Despite us being awkward, at least he seemingly had no trouble jumping back into dad duties. 

“I bet that feels better.” He cooed at her and then kissed her cheek. 

“Sorry we’re late.” We both turned at the sound of Kerry’s voice. Carter stood first and I followed after grabbing the diaper bag. “John, good to see you. And hi Meghan. You’ve gotten so big.” 

“Hi Evie.” Mark added, to which I nodded at him.

“Why don’t we head to the conference room.” Kerry offered, extending a hand. We all followed her and when we got inside, Carter handed Meghan back to me. She sat on the conference table in front of me as Carter went over the contracted treatment plan they devised for him. Meghan would occasionally giggle and smack her hand on the table towards Mark, which earned a smile and some waves from him. I looked at Carter and saw his brow furrow a little as he read. 

“Random urine tests.” 

“Yes.” Kerry confirmed. 

“And I get to pay for them too, I see.” 

“Is that a problem?” 

“No.”

“In addition to the State Caduceus meetings, we’ll require 90 NA or AA meetings during the first 90 days.” 

“That’s not a problem. I’m going anyway.” Carter told me as he set down the papers. Meghan tried to go from them, but I quickly deflected. 

“Good. Good. And the three of us will meet once a week just to you know, check in. Make sure you’re handling the stress.” 

“Would you like me there?” I asked. 

“It’s not necessary unless you two both find it helpful.” 

“Alright.” Carter mumbled and opened his jacket, pulling out a pen. “I came prepared.” He signed the bottom of the last sheet. 

“The naltrexone binds to your opiate—” 

“I know what it does.” He clicked the pen and returned it to his pocket. “It protects you. It blocked the euphoric effects of the narcotics.” 

“It protests all of us.” 

Carter stacked the papers and slid them back as Mark reached into his scrub pocket. “You need to, uh, begin today if you wanna begin work next week.” Mark informed him, holding up the prescription bottle.” Carter took it and examined it, before going to put it in his pocket, but Mark was already, pouring him a glass of water. 

“You want me to take it in front of you?” Carter asked. 

“Yes, and the rest will be witness by Gen.” Kerry informed, looking at me. I nodded. “We’ll periodically monitor you regimen.” 

Carter grabbed the water glass and brought it to him “How much?” 

“Fifty milligrams a day.” 

He put the pill in his mouth and took a drink. Then he proceeded to open his mouth and show them, even sticking his tongue out of the side of his mouth. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Sorry.” He began. “That was, uh......” 

“It’s okay.” Mark interrupted. “It’s gonna be difficult at first. So, we’ll work it out.” 

“Alright,” Kerry sighed. “So, we’ll put you on the schedule for next week. Tuesday. Start out very light. No trauma. Half days for the time being scheduled around Gen so Meghan has at least one or both of you to pick her up every day.” 

“Whatever you say.” 

Both their beepers started going off. “Kerry I gotta go.” They both stood. “See you next week Carter.” 

“Welcome back.” 

“Thank you.” I said. 

“Thank you both.” Carter added. 

“Sure thing.” 

The room got very silent once they left, even Meghan’s babbling had ceased. An awkward silence I didn’t know how to fill. “Do.... do you want to go grab some lunch?” Carter hesitantly asked, obviously not knowing what to do either. 

“Actually, I have to head downstairs. I picked up a half shift to help out with the shortage.”

“You did?” 

“I’m sorry. I forgot your meeting was today when I took it.”

“No, no, it’s okay.”

“You don’t mind taking Meghan home, do you?”

“Of course not.” He said, almost offended I had to ask. “When will you get off?”

“Around nine. Maybe sooner depending on how things are.”

“I have a diversion meeting later tonight I have to go to.” 

“That’s fine. Corrine can handle things until I get home.” I paused, looking at him. “She can watch her the rest of the day if you’d prefer.” 

 “Evie, I can take care of my daughter.”

“I know. I know. It’s just been a while since you’ve been alone with her, and I don’t want you getting overwhelmed.”

“We’ll be alright. Won’t we sweetie.” He reached out his hands and grabbed underneath her armpits, bringing her to him. She began squealing again, putting both her hands on the sides of his face. He smiled back at her. “See, it’s all good.” 

I forced a small smile and nodded. “Yeah. You’re right. Just....just let me know when you guys get home.” 

  

Closing my locker door, I laid my head against the cool metal and took a deep breath. Taking this shift was a horrible idea. Carter didn’t need to be alone right now, never mind alone and dealing with the stress of a baby. No, no it was going to be okay. Calm down, I told myself. Calm down. Corrine is there, Millicent would be there. There was a house of people who could take over if need be. If he could get through the next few hours, I could too. 

Laying the stethoscope around my neck, I went out into the admit area to try and find a patient or doctor that needed my help. As I looked through the charts, I felt a presence beside me. “I didn’t know you were working today.” Luka’s thick accent made me smile. 

“I picked up a half shift to help out. But if I can be honest, I’m regretting it now.”

“I can tell Kerry you need to leave.” 

I shook my head. “I’ll be okay. Probably will stay away from traumas though if I can help it.” 

He nodded. “How’s everything at home?”

“Uh, we’re, uh, getting there. It’s an adjustment. But I know Meghan’s excited to have him back. She’s a daddy’s girl.” 

Luka scoffed. “So was my daughter.”

My heart clenched. “Luka...” I rubbed a comforting hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to put this on you.” 

“No, it’s alright. I need to talk about them. It keeps them fresh in my memory.” He paused, clearing his throat. “What are you regretting about?” 

I smiled at his choice of words. “I guess just fear. Fear that everything is happening to fast. That it’ll become too much for him and he won’t tell me.”

“I think you need to give him some credit. Especially when it comes to Meghan. I know he would never do anything to harm her. He loves her too much.”

I nodded. I knew he was right. Carter would never let anything happen to Meghan. It was just hard sometimes to get out of my own head and all the possible what ifs. Hell, I’d been living in what ifs for months now. 

  

Luka checked on me periodically throughout the day. He helped me with a laceration due to an MVA and he even brought me a water bottle when he noticed I hadn’t taken a break. It felt nice to have someone in my corner, making sure I was okay. I didn’t realize just how much Carter got me used to it until he was gone. 

“So, what’s going on with you and Kovac?” Chuny asked, leaning against the admit desk while I looked up patient labs. 

“What do you mean?” I genuinely asked. 

“Oh, come on. You’d have to be blind not to see how close you guys have gotten over these past few months. What gives?”

“Chuny, Luka’s my friend. I-I’m still with Carter.” That was kind of a lie. I actually wasn’t really sure what we were at the moment. 

“I don’t know, Evie.” Randi stepped in, boxing me in from the other side. “I’d say you guys were a little friendlier than regular friends.”

“Really?”

“It’s only natural. You were alone in that big house by yourself for months. He’s Mr. Tall, Dark, and Mysterious. And that accent is a nice touch.”

“Chuny!” I exclaimed, but then lowered my voice. “You’re making it sound like I slept with him.” 

“No one would blame you. You’ve been dealing with a lot.” 

“Yeah, honestly I think you deserve a free pass.” Randi added. 

“Okay! You both are insane. Luka is a friend and Carter is my boyfriend, the father of my daughter. That’s it.” 

I tried to stay as far away from the two of them and Luka the rest of my shift. Which was extremely hard given the fact that they seemed to be everywhere I looked. That made me even more grateful to clock out when the time finally came. I grabbed my jacket, my purse, and slammed my locker, all but running out of the building.

“You heading out?” 

I turned quickly, finding Luka standing at admit. “Oh yeah. I’m going across the street for a burger then I’m calling a cab home.”

“Why don’t you wait? I’m about to do hand off. I could take you home.”

I laughed. “It’s pretty far out of the way for you. Thanks though.” 

I shoved my hands in my jacket pocket and left out of the ambulance bay doors, heading straight for Doc Magoo’s. I was in desperate need of a double cheeseburger, fries, and a shake after the day I had. I stopped for a moment to make sure I had my wallet and house keys and when I looked up, my smile fell.

Sitting in the window seat, laughing and looking all too comfortable with each other, were Carter and Abby. 

I suddenly realized him being alone with Meghan wasn’t my biggest fear. 

This. This was my worst fear. 

Quickly turning, I walked double time back to the ambulance bay. I kept my head down, focusing on my shoes so my heart wouldn’t leap out of my throat. I hadn’t realized anyone else was out there until I bumped into them. 

“Woah.” Luka exclaimed, grabbing me. I looked up at him quickly. “Are you okay? I thought you were getting food?” I opened my mouth, the words having a hard time leaving me. He seemed to sense I was upset, because he nodded and just put an arm around me. He ended up stopping and buying me dinner before he drove me home.  

[chevroletdean]

Through the Mud, Down to Earth

SUMMARY: Alec has lots of things to experience for the first time. Such as getting taken out on an elaborate date to celebrate your three month anniversary. What better way to spend a nice weekend than by enjoying fall together?

PAIRING: Alec McDowell x GN!Reader GENRE: Fluff TO NOTE/WARNINGS: Tooth rotting fluff, cheesy romanticism, angsty undertones, established relationship, mentions of Manticore and past trauma WORD COUNT: 2.1k A/N: Here's my entry for @zepskies' 5k follower challenge! Make sure to check out everyone else's contribution here. Congratulations again, Alex, and thank you for the wonderful color palette. It immediately reminded me of my favorite season of the year. Fall can't come soon enough. And my eternal gratitude to @justwhisperingfantasies for being the best beta-reader one could ask for!🧡 CREDIT & LINKS: Header edited by myself ──〃★ Alec gif by sensitiveham ──〃★ gradient divider edited by myself ──〃★ Alec McDowell Masterlist ──〃★ crossposted to Ao3

LISTEN TO THE PLAYLIST HERE

“What’s this?”

“It’s a list, dumbass,” you chuckle in response, shaking your head at his silly question.

“I can see that,” he huffs with a crooked grin, but his eyes are glued to yours instead of the sheet you placed in front of him. “What’s on it?”

“Did you forget how to read?”

He rolls his eyes in bemusement and unfolds the piece of paper.

DATE NIGHT is written on the very top, a little flower doodled right next to the heading.

It’s a whole schedule, starting with a bus ride to the outskirts of town on Saturday morning and ending with a bonfire event Sunday night.

Alec skims through it, feeling your eyes on him the whole time. You’re biting your lower lip, swaying back and forth next to him as you wait patiently for his reaction.

“You planned all this?”

No matter how hard you chew on your lips, you can’t contain that giddy smile. Shyly, you nod, before you clear your throat.

“Summer’s coming to an end and, well, that weekend is our—”

“Three month anniversary,” Alec finishes your sentence. The boyish spark in his eyes remains, with just the right amount of smugness to still count as charming. But his demeanor softens.

It’s the good kind of soft. The one he’s never allowed himself to be, the one he thought others programmed out of him, the one he hasn’t felt in all his life. You bring it back to the surface in just three months.

Heck, who is he kidding? It couldn’t have taken you more than three minutes. Never does.

“Can’t believe so much time’s passed,” he hums, thoughtfully.

“Did you think this was going to be just a summer fling?” You chuckle lightheartedly, drawing a snort from him as your fingers ruffle through his hair.

In all honesty, he didn’t know where the path would take him when he asked you out. It didn’t matter at the time. All that did was the fact that he would’ve avoided every mirror if he missed the chance.

“Something like that,” he teases back with a wink. Grabbing your wrist, he tugs your hand away from his short locks, only to pull you closer to his side. “I definitely didn’t think I’d get this far. Not after you told me it’ll be just one date so I’ll finally stop pushing my luck with you.”

You laugh again, finding a comfy position tucked into his side with his arm wrapped around your shoulder. “And then you continued pushing your luck.”

“It’s been working out for me for three months so far,” he grins and shrugs.

“Maybe you should try playing the lottery,” you suggest.

“I could do that. Or,” Alec replies, smoothing over the autumnal schedule in his hands, “I could win myself a prize at the Autumn Fair Festival on September 1st, 2:30 PM.”

Even though you slightly jab his ribs, he couldn’t not poke some fun at you for meticulously organizing a weekend trip with every minute laid out — on a handwritten note, no less.

He’s used to schedules. This is the first one he sees that makes his heart jump a little higher though. The first one that’s endearing and fun.

“Hey, quit poking me or I’ll consider skipping ahead to the Hayride at 4:15 PM,” Alec huffs, earning himself a subtle shove to his shoulder this time.

That alone would’ve simply made him laugh, but it’s your pout that has him cave.

“Fine, fine! Festival at 2:30 PM it is,” he chuckles softly, plactating you with a gentle press of his lips to your temple. When you whip your head in his direction, presumably to glare at him, he holds up both of his hands in defense. “I’ll even win you the biggest teddy bear at the shooting booth, promise.”

The two of you pack your duffle bags the very same evening. Despite his teasing you can’t shut up about all the fun events that await you on your trip. You barely make it to bed without swooning about cotton candy and apple orchards — it’s a miracle you eventually fall asleep in his arms.

It’s a little early to hype up the fall season. Alec’s just seen the first leaves turning yellow last week, but who is he to spoil the fun? Just because he can’t get behind the festivities of Halloween and Thanksgiving doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy your excitement.

First thing the next morning is a whiff of coffee. Alec is still busy blinking the sleep from his eyes while you tug at his arm.

Upon finally beckoning him to the kitchen table, he’s met with an array of fall themed food. Store bought apple pie slices await him on paper plates. It had to be paper plates, because there’s acorns and pumpkins printed on them. Alec remembers you eyeing them the whole time you were grocery shopping together. He snuck them into the cart while you were busy picking out the flavor of pie. Upon closer inspection he realizes you even cut out little triangles for eyes and a crescent moon for a smile from the crust.

Now he knows what that was about. You really weren’t kidding about the seasonal spirit.

It’s evident at last when you push him down into a chair and he takes a sip of coffee — syrup. Cinnamon.

A pair of curious eyes stares at him. Expectantly. Somewhat nervous. If only you knew you’d have to invest half the effort to impress him.

“You like?”

“I love,” he replies. To his own surprise, he even means it. It’s sweeter than anything he’d usually go for, but the spice takes some of the sugary edge away.

Satisfied with his answer, you plop down in the seat across the table, reaching for your own cup. To yours, you add an ungodly amount of pumpkin spice flavor. Though, when you catch him watching and offer him a sip, he scrunches his nose and refuses. Even he has his limits.

“I’m perfectly happy with my liquid cinnamon roll, thank you.”

“I can fetch you a black one,” you mumble meekly. Damn him and his non-chalance — his half-sarcastic words weren’t meant to raise any doubts.

“Don’t you dare,” he says immediately and traps your hand beneath his, preventing you from scurrying back to the cupboards. “I mean it. It’s really good, thanks.”

Not only is the breakfast good, it’s the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for him.

That alone makes him want to drown himself in the mug. That, and the faint blush around the tip of your nose when he insists on carrying your duffle bag. The least he can do to return the favor is put his super-genetics strength to good use and be a gentleman.

The bus is packed with people — families with giddy kids, mostly. A group of pre-teens, some of them excitedly rambling on and on about haunted houses at the Fall Festival, others staring out of the windows in unimpressed fashion. Looks like a summer camp trip.

“Haunted House, huh?,” Alec whispers in your direction, unfolding your list again with a grin. “You didn’t write anything like that down.”

“What, you think I’m scared?,” you scoff and shake your head in amusement. “There’s no haunted house at the festival, trust me, I checked.”

A couple of kids turn around to stare at you with wide eyes, then immediately go complaining to their counselor. You just mumble an embarrassed “Oops” and sink further into your seat.

Alec bursts out in laughter, once again wrapping one arm around your shoulder from behind.

“Sounds good to me, to be honest. I’d like to be the only one to quicken your heartbeat,” he smirks and all the effort he put into making his tone as theatrical as possible goes to waste at the expense of his ridiculous eyebrow-wiggling.

You play along, slapping a hand over your chest. “Are you planning to jumpscare me? What if I’ll drop dead from a heart-attack?”

Alec’s grin widens as he pulls you closer to his side, until his mouth brushes against the shell of your ear and his warm breath does send a shiver down your spine. Not the spooked kind of shiver, though. Especially not with the way his hand trails down to your waist.

“I can think of a thing or two to take your breath away,” he breathes against your skin.

That’s when the bus comes to an abrupt halt and you’re not sure whether to be disappointed or relieved. Another one of those stunts and who knows if you wouldn’t have actually fainted.

The kids are the first to storm out, all of them racing towards the inn. You and Alec follow behind, checking into a room that looks like a jack-o-lantern exploded in. Everything, from the walls to the bed sheets, is maroon or orange or brown. Even the color of the towels resemble that of reddish foliage.

“Wouldn’t you know it,” Alec exclaims as he points at the soap dispenser by the sink. “You’ll never guess what fragrance this is. I’ll give you a hint, it’s not Christmas Cookies.”

“You think this is ridiculous,” you sigh, crooked smile on your lips.

“Just a little bit,” he admits — gently, not condescending. “But, you know what? This is cute. You are cute. So I don’t mind a little silliness.”

“Good, because the festival is about to open and if we go now, we’ll be just in time to get our photo taken at the pumpkin patch.”

After dropping your duffles by the bed, Alec lets you drag him downstairs and towards the fair. He does complain a little about the fact that he’s supposed to get photographed by a guy in a turkey costume — yes, with feathers — but once you pull him under the arch made out of pumpkins and smile at the camera, he complies.

You’re handed two polaroids and even he has to admit: The flustered grin on Alec’s face thanks to your surprise kiss to his cheek is almost cheesier than the photographer’s outfit. It’s still with pride that he snatches that picture from your hands and secures it in his wallet.

The booths are next, all of them stacked with stuffed animals and all kinds of food. As promised, Alec wins the grand prize for you on the first try, knocking down every target with the toy rifle. You pick out the Bartholomew Bear Jellycat, a classic brown teddy bear inside of a plump pumpkin.

That’s followed by the hayride, during which Alec feels you shiver at his side. He drapes his leather jacket over you without a word, feeling warm enough just by the sight of your flushed cheeks and the feeling of your hand in his. The tractor pulls them through the fields and Alec isn’t sure whether any of this is as magical as it feels. Like they’ve stepped through a gate into Halloween Town itself. Or maybe most of it is just for show.

Whether the crunch of the leaves is fake or not, the feeling is genuine.

He used to associate the color brown with dirt — the kind that would stick to his knees after crawling on the ground. The kind that used to get stuck under his nails after excessive training sessions, which always left him feeling hollow. Who knew the tone could radiate warmth, could make his heart swell until it was full? He wasn’t aware any color could, really.

The sunset; orange melting into pink. Like flames up above, but not threatening ones. Lately nothing feels threatening anymore, not with you by his side anyway.

The golden hour is something he mainly knows from books. Something he knows to avoid during sneaky missions. At Manticore they taught him a million different ways to slither in the shadows, to hide from the enemy. Manticore drilled a constant state of alert into him, to be watchful of every corner. Now his attention is solely dedicated to you.

To the way you intertwine your fingers with his on the way back to your room — you finally admit that you’re tired and give in when he reminds you that you have a whole Sunday ahead of you to spend at the festival. To your eager nod when he suggests you watch a horror movie before going to sleep — to make up for the lack of a haunted house, though otherwise the festival is amazing.

The softness of your hair under his fingertips as opposed to grime and blood staining his hands. The curl of your smile, which lingers even as your mouths connect. Widens, even. No restraints, no stuffy room with metal bars and spiked fences.

Alec finally gets a taste of freedom. And it tastes a lot like apple cider, pumpkin spice, cinnamon, and your lips.

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[lustlovehart]

Ah ah ah AHHHHHHHH

HE'S SO BEAUTIFUL. Congratulations Vil for really living up to the title of Incubus.

ALSO THE PINK & BLUE LIGHTING IN THE DARK???? AHHHHHHHHHH OMG goodness gosh golly it puts him in such a seductive light. Yes sir, like okay so I'm dropping everything for you? I unfortunately am not as strong as MH!Reader, I would be cracking everybody.

Cw: Suggestive, Obsession, Touching

Mmmm, Vil seducing Reader under the cover of comfort. Yes, while pleasure is comforting, there's that underlying sense of whether it grows into something beyond that, however, chewing you on the inside. (Or maybe he genuinely is just attempting to soothe your soul after all. You'll never know, though, as his acting has him leave his true feelings shaded in mystery.)

With each inhale you take, his smell seems to be clouding your judgment. Everything is too much yet too little all at the same time. Just what is this beast doing to you?

His nails drag up the middle of your chest before catching your chin. You were already looking at him before, but now your gaze holds deeper. Weirdly enough, despite the sweet scent that flows through your lungs, you still feel as if you have a choice.

"You're hot." The statement has your breath hitch in your throat. Is he calling you hot, as in like the attractive kind, or—"You're burning up. You are okay, yes?" Your shoulders slouch in disappointment. You have a feeling he noticed with the way his eyes have a sense of satisfaction in them. "What is that look for—?" You cut him off when your gloves take hold of his claws, grouping them together in your hands. You pull him closer, and he can't help but be stunned by your direct approach.

A part of him hopes no one else sees the way you so confidently move. But he knows he shouldn't hope. He should do. And he will make sure no one else sees you the way he shall.

"You're beautiful and all, Vil but—"

"So you think I'm beautiful?" He's back to being the one in power despite being bound by your grasp. You haven't even realized you'd been backed into a corner before his knee pins itself next to your thigh. His wings open in a way that leaves his eyes to be your only source of light.

"... I do." A reply he hears most often when humans are in the throes of lust. And yet... coming from your lips... There's a certain genuine admission in it. Something he isn't quite familiar with. Hesitantly, he rests his forehead on yours, an action he tends to avoid in bed, yet here he is doing it with you.

"... but...?"

"I can't." In his throat, the word 'why?' can be found. But it's never found, as he already knows the answer. "I have to kill—"

You tense when you feel his lips ghost over your throat, not touching, hovering, waiting. Waiting for you. His hands find themself on your waist, and he smiles when you make no attempt to stop him.

Though he can't help but feel disappointed, you're immune to such charms. He wishes, for one moment, just for one, that you would full heartedly let him devour you in bliss. He promises he will treat you the way you deserve. The way he must.

"Don't worry, I know." Despite the sensual energy in the way he cages you, there's a certain sincerity in his words. "I just... Hope you'll let me treat you the way you deserve. I will be your dear heaven."

I wish to be your everything.

You whisper something under your breath. He can't hear it, but he assumes it to be a curse.

But it doesn't matter if you wish to have him or not. Because he won't allow anyone else to have you either.

...

but ahh seriously. THANK YOU SMMM!!! I was starved of Vil, we need more of him pronto. Also the little piece of dialogue where he tempts reader??? Mm amazing. I am not immune to Vil either. If he said he would take care of me as long as nobody else did? I would fall for it.

Oh, poor hunter, let me ease your pain It must have been so hard to endure all of this alone, with no one truly hearing you Let me help you, I promise you'll touch the heavens if you allow me Let me care for you, noble hunter; let me reward you as no one ever has When we’re done, I assure you your bliss will be so great you’ll never seek anyone else

Monster!twst by: @lustlovehart

Cw: Suggestive (kinda?) below

So yeah…here we are again I missed Vil (<- her last drawing was of him) At first this was going to involve Neige too, but things happened and here I am and here we are

I LOVE THE IDEA OF THIS MAN'S (HYPNOTIC???) PERFUME OR SCENT AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I FUCKING LOVE SHAPESHIFTERS I'm fainting

Btw if you look closely at Vil's hands, you'll notice that up to half his arm is dyed purple I liked the idea, I was going to make it black, but then I said naaaah

I share below the first sketch of this

Until the publication of Vil's design it had to stay that way, I'm sharing it because I found it funny

I hope Tumblr doesn't get sensitive about this

Like, is not that bad, right?

I CENSORED IT

HIS THING 😭

[jxtina-86]

Shine With You

Been hashing this one out for months now and still haven't finished it. Hoping by posting the first part, it will give me the motivation to finish it!

This is the sequel to The Chase. A little update in the world of Lando and Mia, taking place at Zandvoort 2024.

Enjoy!

Pairing: Lando x Fem!OC

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Swearing, little fluffy, lots of references to their previous NSFW fun... 18+, MDNI

Friday

Mia drums her passport against her thigh as she sits in the airport lounge. Glancing at her watch, she sees there’s still 30 minutes before it’s time to board the flight to Amsterdam. Lowering her wrist, she sees her hand tremble and not for the first time.

It did the same last night as she packed her suitcase. And before, when she’d finally said yes to coming to the race, her phone had almost fallen from her grip. She’d managed to hold it together enough that she hoped Lando didn’t notice - although he was too busy grinning ear to ear at the prospect of seeing her again.

She feels the knot in her stomach tighten. On the one hand, she feels giddy with excitement to see him, to touch him, to have him right in front of her, rather than hundreds of miles away and only accessible via her phone.  But the giddiness rapidly turns into something else when she remembers this won’t be the same as it was.

This time there’s no safety of his apartment. There’s no peace. No quiet.

The moments of just the two of them will be few and far between. No time just spent wrapped in his bedsheets, passing the hours with chat about nothing as his fingers trail up her arm and hers across his chest before it ends how it always seems to end with them: his hands gripping her hips as they both gasp for breath.

No slow mornings. Or slow evenings for that matter. No chilling in his t-shirt on his sofa, her legs over his thighs, his hand slowly creeping up under the hem of said t-shirt, a finger sliding over her hip and then down following the curve of her underwear, before again, it ends how it always ends between them: him between her legs, her fingers curled in his hair.

None of that.

This time it feels too open, too exposed. It’s public and unknown - at least to Mia. Lando didn’t seem bothered in the slightest at the prospect and she felt a pang of guilt that she couldn’t fully share his enthusiasm. It all just feels… too real. Too much. Too soon.

“Here, have this.” Ruby interrupts her thoughts as she settles into the seat next to her and hands over a glass of champagne. “You look like you need it.”

“Is champagne your answer to everything?”

“Obviously. Especially when it’s free.”

“Thanks for this,” Mia gestures at the lounge.

Ruby waves her thanks away. “Perks of being a frequent flyer.”

Mia takes a sip and exhales slowly. “Is this a bad idea?”

Ruby raises an eyebrow. “Excellent timing as always.”

“It all… It all just feels a bit too real,” she murmurs.

“The man you met a month ago invites you - no, sorry, begs you to come and watch him do his job - an insane job might I add - and you’re worried it all feels a bit too real. It looks like a fucking dream from where I’m sitting.”

“It’s just…” Mia feels her cheeks flush. “We don’t really know each other, do we? I mean, we never really talked-”

“So pray tell, what were you doing every day at his apartment if you weren’t having deep and meaningful conversations?” Ruby’s eyes glint over the top of her glass. 

Mia scowls. “Shut up. You know what I mean.”

Ruby waves away her concerns. “You and him have been blowing up each other’s phones non-stop for the last two weeks. Of course you talk.”

“Yeah. But not about anything serious. It’s just…”

“Phone sex?”

“Rubes!”

“What? Those walls in Paris were thin. And you are not as quiet as you think.”

Mia stares at her flabbergasted.

“I’m teasing. Sort of. Anyway, it’s okay for it to just be a weekend where he gets to show off and you get to have fun.”

Mia chews her lip. “Will it be fun? I feel like I’m travelling all this way to barely see him. He’ll have hardly any downtime. And it’s just… different.”

“How so?”

“Those two weeks, it was just like being in a little bubble. It was really intense but we were just hanging out. We barely spoke about anything other than what to eat or do-”

“To each other?” Ruby can’t help but interrupt. “I imagine you’ll spend whatever downtime he has doing exactly that all over again.”

“But it’s public.”

“The time you spend with him doesn’t have to be? Pretty sure anytime he spends away from the track, he’ll be in his hotel room so what’s different from that time in his apartment?”

Mia shrugs. “It just is.” She can feel Ruby’s eyes boring into her head. “Fine, I don’t want to be a distraction.”

“But he invited you,” Ruby says slowly. “You're not showing up unannounced. You didn't push to be invited. He did that off his own back. And anyway, pretty sure he's an expert at blocking out any distractions.”

Mia hears her but she still can't let it go. “I don't think he even gets that much allocation for each race. So why me and you?”

Ruby presses her fingers to her forehead. “The mental gymnastics you are doing to talk yourself out of this are beyond belief. He invited you, M. Accept it. Whatever the reasons. Sex, company, a chance to see what being part of his world means? Any of those reasons sound good to me.”

“He wanted me to come to London.”

“When?”

“When do you think? When he had to go back to the UK to prepare for this half of the season.”

“Why didn't you?”

Mia shrugs. “Felt weird then too.”

“So you came to Paris with me? And had phone sex instead of the actual thing, which was on offer?”

“Don't say it like that,” Mia groans.

Ruby is silent as she drains her glass and glances at her watch. “We’d better head to the gate.”

“Rubes-”

“C’mon.”

“I kept joking that he just wants me there to suck him off.”

Ruby’s eyes widen. “Wow. TMI, M.”

Mia picks at imaginary dust on the table. “What if I'm just some easy hook up for him?”

Ruby reaches over and takes her hand, squeezing it softly. “Okay. I say this with love and kindness. But do you not think that if that's what he wanted, truly wanted, he’d have been spending his nights fucking around with whatever girl he could get? But no. He was texting you non-stop. Calling you. FaceTiming you.” She pauses. “I think you know this isn’t some random hookup anymore. And yeah, that’s probably fucking terrifying to admit. And you don’t have to admit it right now. But you also don’t have to do what you’re doing right now and make up excuses as to why he’s invited you.”

Mia nods, exhaling slowly. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

She nods and Ruby grins. “Then let’s go.”

But just as they stand, there’s an announcement: “Les passagers du vol AF1240 à destination d'Amsterdam ont été retardés - veuillez écouter les mises à jour suivantes. Passengers for flight AF1240 to Amsterdam has been delayed - please listen for further updates.”

“And this is why a lounge is always a good idea,” Ruby grins as Mia slumps back into her chair. “Another glass?”

“Do you rinse the bar when you’re on your way to a brand shoot too?” Mia asks dryly.

Ruby rolls her eyes. “Of course not. But I think these circumstances call for it.”

**

Lando: You should have come here x Mia: And disturb your beauty sleep? 😉 Lando: Worth it 😏

Mia giggles to herself, earning a soft scoff from Ruby who is on the other side of the double bed.

“Really wish we had booked two rooms now,” Ruby grumbles.

“Well I wasn't planning on sharing with you, was I?”

The delayed flight had put a major dent in her original plan. They were meant to land at six and when she’d agreed to come, Lando had told her in no uncertain words that she should join him at his hotel. She’d been sceptical at the idea but eventually changed her mind thanks to his insistence, not to mention the appeal of seeing him away from the track that first night.

As the hours had ticked by in the hotel lounge, she’d felt the unease build. And when they finally arrived just after ten, her mind had been made up.

Showing up at his hotel in the early evening would have been fine.

But now? Now it felt wrong. Like showing up in the dark meant something else. Like she was smuggling herself in under an expectation. Like the whole weekend would start on the wrong foot.

So while Ruby explained to the receptionist that there would be two guests in one room, Mia typed out a quick message to Lando.

Staying with Ruby. Figured you'd be shattered anyway. Guess I'll see you tomorrow x

And then the back and forth had started, him trying desperately to convince her but she’d remained steadfast. For now at least.

“I don't see why you haven't gone to him anyway,” Ruby says as she props herself up on an elbow.

“It's late.”

“And yet here you are, texting each other anyway. You could be doing whatever you're doing face to face.”

As if on cue, Mia’s phone starts to buzz and Ruby groans. “Bad enough hearing you through a wall.”

Mia ignores her, answering the call. Lando’s face pops up on her screen, his grin wide as he sees her. He's lying in bed, shirtless, one arm stretched over his head, fingers playing absentmindedly with his damp curls.

“Hi,” she says, her own grin matching his.

“You should have come here,” he tells her again. “This,” he gestures to the screen. “Is ridiculous given you are less than a mile away.”

“Good things come to those who wait,” she says with a wink, grinning as he bites his lip, the smirk on his face sending a shiver down her spine.

“You know I don't like waiting.”

Mia giggles as Ruby lets out a loud groan beside her. “Another reason why you should have gone to his hotel - to save me from listening to this.”

Lando’s cheeks flush slightly. “Sorry Ruby,” he calls out. “Someone didn’t mention you were there.”

“Oh yeah. I’m here alright. I didn’t realise the VIP pass truly meant access to all areas,” Ruby says as she leans over to wave at Lando through the screen. She grins as she sees his state of undress. “Oh wow, yeah you really didn’t plan on me being here did you? Mia, what the fuck are you doing in bed with me? I’ll pack your bags for you.”

“Stop it,” Mia gives her friend a gentle shove. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m not sure if I should be taking offense to the fact you’d rather be there than here,” Lando pipes up and Mia turns her attention back to him.

“I… I don’t want to-”

“Distract me?” he finishes.

She nods, watching as he tugs on a curl and then scrapes a hand over his face.  “Distraction is exactly what I need,” he tells her.

She gives him a curious look. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Means I don’t overthink everything else.”

She chews her lip. “I’ll bear that in mind.”

“For what?”

“The next time,” she says with a shy grin, as his face cracks into a wide smile, his eyes lighting up.

“Yeah? There’s another race next weekend.”

“Woah, slow down,” she says with a shake of her head. “Can we get through this one first? Plus I’ve got to go home for a few weeks.”

“Where’s home?”

“Wow,” Ruby says dryly. “You guys really didn’t find out much about each other, did you?”

Mia chooses to ignore her. “London. My mum’s there.”

He pauses for a second. “I’ll be in London for a few days after Monza.”

“Good to know.”

Ruby groans again beside her. “You two really need to practice your conversation skills. This is actually painful.”

Lando laughs, his hand disappearing off screen as he chases an itch down his chest. “Okay, okay. Mia, when we’re both in London, maybe we should meet up.”

“Maybe we should,” she grins back, laughing as Ruby pretends to scream into the pillow beside her. “Fine. Yes. Okay.”

“It’s a date,” he winks.

“Only if it takes place outside of a bedroom,” Ruby mumbles, earning another shove from Mia.

“What did she say?” Lando asks.

“She said it only counts as a date if it takes place outside of a bedroom.”

“Damn, well there goes my plan,” he says, his face scrunching up and Mia finds herself thinking how endearing he looks. “I’ll have to think of some alternative date plans then.”

“I don’t know,” Mia muses with a smirk. “Bedroom sounds good to me.”

“Okay, let’s wrap this up before you two start whispering sweet nothings to each other,” Ruby reaches for the phone and Mia knocks her hand away.

“What time are you getting to the track?” Lando asks as Mia twists away onto her side with the phone still in her hand.

“10ish”

He nods. “I’ll try and find you before the final practice session.”

“Don’t worry,” Mia tells him. “I’m sure this one will be sniffing out the champagne and any single man within a hundred metres.” She flicks her thumb over her shoulder towards Ruby. “So plenty to keep me occupied.”

“Sounds like it.” He pauses and then lowers his voice. “Really wish you were here though.”

“Yeah?” she whispers back. “Why?”

He pauses again, chewing his lip. “Just wanna kiss you.”

Mia feels her heart pound. “Same,” she breathes.

He sighs softly. “Well, guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah…”

“Night…”

“Night…”

There’s a pause where neither of them move to hang up and then he murmurs something she doesn’t quite catch and then he’s gone. Mia stares at her phone dumbly and then almost jumps when her phone buzzes and she sees a message from Lando.

Not too late to change your mind…

Another buzz. Another message:

There’s a space for you right here…

And then it buzzes again and she swallows. The sheets are pushed right down, daringly low on his hips. The angle of the photo accentuates the V that leads from his stomach down to what is just about hidden beneath the sheets. Her eyes trail up to his chest, his thick neck and the dirty smirk on his lips that makes her cheeks burn. He knows exactly what he’s doing to her. She’s hypnotised, her eyes wandering back down to the sheet rumpled around his waist. 

She chews her lip, staring at the screen before she starts to type out a reply.

That’s not helping me sleep, you know.

No, delete.

You think you’re so funny.

Delete again.

Not fair…

No. She deletes each letter slowly. And then, with her heart thudding, stifling a giggle as she imagines his response, she taps out her final reply:

Move that sheet and I’ll show you exactly where I’d like to be.

She hits send before she can regret it.

She can see he’s online. See that he’s read it. But there’s no reply.

And then:

😩😈

****

Back with Part 2 soon...! Likes, comments, reblogs always welcome!

[secret--history]

I know that 'The Secret History is a satire' is an extremly prevalent take, and I think it came about as a response to the idea that tsh "romanticises" things like classist ideas/substance abuse/murder, but like. It can be unsupportive or critical of the characters without being a satire. Satire is not the word you're looking for here

[meamiki]

5% of a color headcanon.... two versions since b&w emphasizes the dagger more i think but i still like the warm tones ASFSADA

i am not biased towards rainbow daggers whatsoever i promise (lie)

((also friend is streaming now and im there too!! bit more info linked here, its rated mature tho))

[aldisobey]

Why is writing so hard lol

Wish it could be faster but forcing the feeling is impossible. Begin with musical ritual. Scrolling walls of artful halls. Masticating prose. Sink and dwell and rot with a feeling caught.

And then a different part of the story retches to page. Like prepping a body for possession. Sometimes a spirit you didn’t expect comes calling with an embrace you can’t escape.

I wish the process was outline, drafts, edit, and edit, edit, edit, edit, etc. But I need to check the moon the bugs the wide space of tide

drown my pretentious ass and toss me out to sea

It needs to be real and alive within, burgeoning to escape before I can excise a word.

I don’t think I’d like it easy

[moonchild-in-blue]

Okay guys. I know some of you do in fact go there so. Help a girl out 🥺

Who is König, like. What's his deal? The mask cloth thingy? Is he shy or smth 🥺 like Mimikyu? Or is it a "face severely scarred and disfigured from war and now I must conceal the horror" type of thing? Why is he built like a smart fridge?

I'm vaguely aware of CoD (played it like a million years ago with a friend), and I vaguely know about Soapy Boy and Ghost Normal Name. What I'm actually interested in is whoever the hell Beefcake Cutiepie König is.

Much appreciated~ xoxo 💋💋💋

[candycryptids]

Hiya! I hope you're doing well today! I love your characters and how you've structered their bios! Since Chuusday is listed first, is she technically your official WOL or is it someone else? Do you canonically have a WOL in the first place?

Also, I find it SO sweet that you and one of your partners both play FFXIV and have characters paired together ;w; Did you meet ingame or long before either of you started playing? Either way I wish you both the best!!! <3 - gardenofballads 🌻

Awaaaah! Im doing pretty ok!!! Taking time to answer this as a wind down from Emerald Weapon Ex Brain Soupage. And I’m so glad! ;W; I think I butchered one of those “Get To Know An OC” thingies- uhh… oh [this one] actually! I chopped a lot out and I think added a couple different thingums instead because there was so much to that that it felt overwhelming to try to look at let alone fill out LOL but it was a really good jumping off point uvu;

And!!! Hilariously Chuu was my First XIV Character, so she’s dear to my heart for being the first one- but she very quickly made it known being the WOL even as an AU was something of a Joke (Her character showed great reluctance and even frustration at having to do So Much World Saving, maybe a side-effect of me rushing through MSQ to catch up with my other spouse [Who plays Talia, though they’ve got less time for XIV these days ;0;] and the rest of my friends who were all EndGame already at the time in Shadowbringers fhdjfjsjfs.) So I made…… many alts. Throwing spaghetti at the wall but I have SEVERE side-character/NPC brain and kept making “supporting cast” types =w=; it actually took me like. 3? Alts before making an ACTUAL WoL with my husband (Ishi’li and Kizuna) (as of Right Meow, they’re in post ARR, but we’ve been working on Keathan and Tuesday together because Keathan was… Keathan’s first character in xiv XD so we’ve been jaunting through the story together and experiencing every inch of it so we can pick and choose what The Boys™ get up to when we wanna focus on them x3)

🥰 I knew both speece during at least high school- but I actually knew Keathan as early as Elementary school hehe 😌 tho the speece didn’t proper marry until… i’unno, 2017? (For frustrating legal reasons, I’m not legally married, but. As it goes. Someday we’ll have money to visit the one state that has legal poly marriages. Also I struggle to remember our wedding year 🫢)

Since managing to make a Co-WoL with my husband I’ve managed to make one other Alt meant to be a Solo-WoL (Mochiie) but I have to really wrinkle my brain to sink time into playing him, since I’m trying to take screenshots throughout the story at what I find to be inspiring beats xD And even still he has an alt-universe where he’s just a side-character for the ‘Main Timeline’ (where there’s a bunch of spaghetti and like 8+ confirmed WoL’s and the Msq entourage looks HILARIOUS in canon, someday I’ll get all the data together and take pictures, but I think it’ll cook what’s left of my brain x’3) [it’s less concrete than anything I’ve posted about before or I’d try to explain it ;v;’ it’s just interesting mostly to see how the story gets stretched to fit around a larger community of heroes than a solo guy shouldering the whole burden lmfao.]

🌸🌸🌸…. I also hope you’re having a lovely week @gardenofballads !!!! I am tossing flower petals into the air around you !!! Thank you for the ask and well wishes n kind words 🥺💖 🌸🌸🌸

[bitchthefuck1]

I will never understand the fanfic impulse to take characters with thee most coo coo bananas codependent/nuanced/toxic/insane relationship and turn them into love interests #1 and #2 in a generic romance novel. like what is even the point anymore

[gilfrespecter]

Listening to coinstar by the growlers and thinking about mel so hard I get nauseous

Ridiculous stream of conscious in the tags apologies but not really

[twistedappletree]

tipped my uber courier hella extra bc she helped call an ambulance for a homeless woman while waiting for my order 🥺 and idk i was chatting with her about it in the app and it just made me love people sm 🤍