#intoxicating fear masterpost

[chaotic-orphan]

Intoxicating Fear - Masterpost

Ongoing Series

“Oh yes,” said Omen, tone reminiscent. “Old Mentor went mad trying to stop me, poor dear.”

“You drove him crazy! You weaponised his own mind against him,” Kit said, hatred colouring his voice. Omen smirked.

“I was going to do the same to you,” said Omen, his voice flowing through Kit’s ears like liquid silver. “It’s a favourite of my many gifts. Not at all fit for combat like lightning or water, but I can break you without breaking a sweat. Even before I took your mind you couldn’t lift a finger against me.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Omen.

It was a whisper, a rumour, the bogeyman - nobody who met him lived to tell about it, or if they did, they didn't remember. Almost everything about him was unknown until he drove Mentor mad and claimed the notoriety for bringing the world's greatest Superhero to heel.

On his first solo mission, Kit, the hero Malyn, gets far more than he ever bargained for. Omen takes Kit as a trophy, a play-thing, a puppet - addicted to being Kit's biggest fear.

Will Kit escape Omen, or is he doomed to be Omen's puppet forever, or worse... end up like Mentor - mind melted, hospitalised, and scared of his own shadow?

Main Characters

Kit Mallory (22) — Malyn

Kit showed incredible promise in the young Hero Academy and was offered to be Mentor's sidekick, the greatest Superhero in the world. Kit took the offer, Mentor taking him under his wing as if he were family and soon that's what they grew to be; family.

After Omen attacks Mentor, Kit's entire life is uprooted, unraveling before him and he's consumed by vengeance, promising Mentor he would avenge him. He just didn't expect to meet Omen so soon, so suddenly, so unaware.

He’d be damned if he let Omen know that.

Oskar Ambrose (29) — Omen

Not much is known about Ambrose. That’s the way he likes it. The less people that know about him the better, and yet, there was something about Malyn that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something like a puzzle that he wanted to solve.

Never before had anyone made Ambrose not want to use his powers to force them to submit. Malyn… he was like the gift that keeps on giving— life is too short not to abuse a Hero every once in a while. If during the course of his meddling it happened to further his own agenda, well — that would just be an added bonus.

Chapters

Prologue

Part one - Introductions

The Old Fairground

A crude awakening

Instant Regret

Breaking balls

Know your place

Part two - Homeward Bound

6. Welcome home 7. The Great Escape 8. A visitor comes a-knocking 9. Much needed alone time 10. Reprieve

Part three - A devil’s bargain

11. A deal with the devil 12. Breakdown 13. Family time

14. Wake up call

15. A foreboding calm

Part Four — shit hits the fan

16. Surprise visitor

17. Unforeseen Side-effect

18. New player on the board

19. The blood of the covenant

20. Revealing the Monster

Part Five — Supervillain saga

21. Keep your friends close

22. Wibbly-wobbly-timey-whimey stuff

23. Breaking spirits

24. Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing (part I)

25. Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing (part II)

Part Six — Shit hits the fan part 2: electric boogaloo

26. A Fool’s Bargain

27. Disoriented Dazed

28. Breaking bones

29. The difference between abuse and power

[izumiphoenix]

Sharess’ Caress: Trying to Feel Whole

(10/? part of “Astarion: In Search of True Self” — [masterpost here])

When we first arrived at Sharess’ Caress during my initial playthrough, I simply said no, and we moved on. But later, I saw others mention something Astarion says during the encounter with the twins - and I realized I needed to see it to understand him better.

I tried returning to Sharess' Caress from the old save file, where we haven't finished his personal quest yet. But the dialogue didn't go the way I saw it discussed, so after researching, I realized that the interactions are different, depending on when you come to the place - before defeating Cazador or after.

But in the end, I couldn't make myself go with it, not with my Tav, Roanael, so in the end I just watched a recording on YouTube (//v;)

If it happens before Cazador, Astarion gently but firmly declines the offer to spend a night with Tav and the drow twins. And it is wonderful to see him feeling safe enough to draw this line and protect his boundaries.

If you say you wouldn’t make him do it, he says, “Don’t be so nice to me! It makes me want to be nice back…” - it is framed like another joke, but he looks touched and sad at the same time.

If you decide to go alone, he shows some disapproval and concern - "Enjoy yourself, of course, but I dearly hope you aren't only having sex because we haven't in a while."

I feel he is trying to hide how much it actually bothers him that he might not be enough, that he can't give you want you want... and that you want it so much you can't wait for him, you still need it here and now, no matter who would be your partner.

Interestingly, this doesn’t even lower his approval (unlike, say, Gale’s) - maybe because Astarion doesn’t feel he has a right to disapprove. But that doesn’t make it any less painful.

What surprised me is that if you go there after defeating Cazador and finishing Astarion’s ark, he agrees, saying now that he is free, he is ready to try doing this again. Astarion tries to sound enthusiastic. He even reassures Tav that if he doesn’t like something, he will run away. But his laugh sounds almost hysterical.

If Tav goes with this alone, Astarion comments: “You have a type, don't you? Elven prostitutes? Again? It's rather embarrassing, dear.”

And while Tav and Astarion are spending time with the drow twins, he says all sorts of things like they are dealing with a professional, and he is being very attentive to everyone, but Tav notices that it’s all instinctual, and he is far away at the moment, clearly dissociating.

This place and situation trigger a lot of traumatic memories. And it also shows that even after we defeated Cazador and Astarion overcame his fear and decided to start a new life - he is still healing, it’s not like he magically recovered in a moment.

This whole episode in the brothel with Astarion is very difficult to see (I'd say it's horrible to do to him, if he didn't agree to this himself when he didn't have to) - but it also shows how deep his wounds are. Even after Cazador is gone, his shadow is still there: even if there is no one forcing him now, he does it to himself, cornering himself into the same patterns without realizing it.

Tragically, once Astarion agrees, the game doesn't allow Tav to change their mind, even if it's clear how distressed he is. But as they proceed, Tav can't help but notice just how skilful and gorgeous Astarion is in bed. He notices their eyes on him and asks why they are looking at him like this, and there is an option to reply, “Just making sure you’re okay.” And Astarion’s reaction is: “I wish to drink… And to be drunk.”

Honestly... it sounds a bit out of place, but it makes it even worse. Because it is not sensual. It is not said of intoxication by pleasure. It's numbness. Falling apart into the same state of performance as those thousands of times when he laid down on his back before.

But the way Astarion tries to push through is not a weakness - it shows how deeply he wants to feel whole again, even if he doesn’t yet know what that looks like. He’s trying to prove to Tav, but even more to himself: I’m free now. I can do this. I’m normal.

And it hurts because he shouldn’t have to.

Because healing is slow, messy, with ups and downs - and that’s perfectly fine.

<previous post>

<next post>

<back to masterpost>

[anim-ttrpgs]

Songs for Eureka Sessions: Investigation Scenes (low-stakes) or Meal Scenes

Masterpost of Eureka song lists & how to choose good music for any TTRPG session.

Douglas' Blues - Parasite Eve II

Out of Phase - Parasite Eve

Alone in Town - Silent Hill 2

Reasoning - Death Note

Something Stirring - Scooby-doo

Snooping Around - Scooby-doo

Another Mystery - Scooby-doo

Pandering - Scooby-doo

Arriving at the Scene - Scooby-doo

Grounds of Mystery - Scooby-doo

Puzzle 1 - Puzzle Agent

Puzzle 2 - Puzzle Agent

Puzzle 3 - Puzzle Agent

Puzzle 4 - Puzzle Agent

Puzzle 5 - Puzzle Agent

Puzzle 8 - Puzzle Agent

Puzzle 11 - Puzzle Agent

Freshly Squeezed - Twin Peaks

The Zombie - Kolchak: The Night Stalker

Legacy of Terror - Kolchak: The Night Stalker

Mr. R I N G - Kolchak: The Night Stalker

Chopper - Kolchak: The Night Stalker

Deep Cover - Hotline Miami

A Stray Child - Silent Hill 3

Whirling-In-Rags - Disco Elysium

The Stalkers - Dredge

Little Dark Age (instrumental) - Mgmt

Kitty Horrorshow - Tenement

The Process - The Big O

Nevermore - autoisolation

Into the Mist - autoisolation

Clues 08 - L.A. Noire

Clues 04 – L.A. Noire

Safe Room - Signalis

Ritual – Signalis

Intro – Death Note

Max: Panama – Max Payne 3

E5M3 – Sigil

Max Payne Theme – Max Payne

Cannot Hear – Monster

Dogtective - Louie Zong

Clues 01 – L.A. Noire

Clues 02 – L.A. Noire

Floor 6, Please – Atrium Carceri

Norwegian Horror Saga – Manet

End of Small Sanctuary – Silent Hill 3

Fear of the Dark – Silent Hill

Tears of – Silent Hill

Otherside – Silent Hill

Delirious and Devoured – Manet

Aucun Cave

The Obsession Begins Tomorrow - Shadowdream

Der Angler – Bohren & Der Club of Gore

The First Pain – Heroin and Your Veins

Secret – Somewhere off Jazz Street

Ulterior Motives – autoisolation

Lights Out – Cities Last Broadcast

Street Tattoo – Bohren & Der Club of Gore

Constant Fear – Bohren & Der Club of Gore

Nighthawks – Lowering

Vendredi Noir – Manet

Radio Silence – Joal Fausto & Illusion Orchestra

Sand in Lungs – Heroin and Your Veins

Intoxication – Heroin and Your Veins

Bad Luck – Heroin and Your Veins

Full Moon and Dry Humour – Heroin and Your Veins

Miles to Midnight – Atrium Cerceri, Cities Last Broadcast, and God Body Disconnect

Sorry Sir, You Are in the Wrong Room – Atrium Carceri

Daisuke – Hotline Miami

Hotline – Hotline Miami

Crystals – Hotline Miami

Electric Dreams – Perturbator

It’s Safe Now – Hotline Miami

Interlude – Hotline Miami 2

Rust – El Huervo

Ghost Town – Parasite Eve II

Gentle, Two – Kairo

Untitled 2 – The Green Kingdom

Sigh of Relief – Parasite Eve II

Rain of Brass Petals – Silent Hill 3

Morning Calm – Silent Hill 2

Rusty Lake Theme – Victor Butzelaar

Guided Meditation – Old Future Fox Gang

Sherry’s Theme – Resident Evil 2

A Cold Day in Hell – Max Payne

Ada’s Theme – Resident Evil 2

Tailing a Lead – L.A. Noire

Mona: The Professional – Max Payne 2

Address Unknown – Max Payne 2

Hourglass – The Guest

Omniverse – The Guest

The Marshalling Yard (Latter Half) – Resident Evil 2

Bless This Mess – West of Loathing: Reckonin’ at Gun Manor

[dododan]

Looking into the darkness

Cult of the Lamb "Masterpost"

“The god of chaos, despite being the youngest of his siblings sowed the greatest fear of the five bishops. Ruler of nature and all sorts of plants, intoxicated with his power from his eyes he lost sight of what was most important. And Brother turned against Brother, and Leshy never saw the light again. He plunged into darkness.”

Note from the author: I know, I know…. It's been a long time since there's been anything, because I've been consumed by Inktober and a few other things. In November I didn't know what to put my hands in. But I have a bunch of news for you, oh this is the first of them!

[tytarax]

how are you doing could I request a yandere frieza x female demon reader that acts like Charlie Morningstar from hazbin hotel, the reader was assigned to tried to change frieza for the better to prove that even the most evil beings in the universe can be redeemed and but ends up becoming the obsession of the tyrant

The demon known as Y/N arrived on Frieza's ship like a beacon in the void of the space, her radiant, unusual demeanor contrasted with the cold halls. She introduced herself with a cheerful smile, her eyes sparkling with optimism.

"Lord Frieza," she greeted, "I've been sent to help guide you toward a better path. Because I believe someone like you deserves a second chance."

Frieza arched a brow. "How quaint, a little demon preaching redemption. Tell me, is this your way of entertaining me?"

Y/N responded, "Everyone has potential to change, even you."

At first, Frieza indulged her out of amusement, letting her chatter about forgiveness and compassion while his underlings snickered behind her back. But as days turned to weeks, something began to shift. Her relentless optimism, her laughter, her refusal to fear him—it was intoxicating. She was unlike anyone he'd ever encountered, and he couldn't get enough.

One evening, as Y/N decorated his quarters with colorful trinkets ("A little warmth goes a long way!" she'd said), Frieza found himself lingering closer than usual.

"You fascinate me, dear Y/N," he murmured, his tail coiling subtly around her wrist. "Such purity in a universe so cruel. Tell me, do you preach redemption because you fear your own darkness?"

Y/N blinked, her smile faltering for the first time. "I… No, I just want to help people, even if it's difficult."

Frieza’s crimson eyes gleamed with something darker. "And what if I don’t wish to be saved? What if I prefer to drag you into my world instead?"

From that moment, Y/N realized her mission had taken a perilous turn. Frieza’s interest in her wasn’t the redemption she sought—it was obsession. His presence became suffocating, his tail always grazing her arm or shoulder, his words laced with possessiveness.

"You came to change me, but it seems you've become my most prized possession," he whispered one day, cornering her with a chilling smile. "You can’t leave, my dear. You belong to me now."

Y/N tried to reason with him, to rekindle his potential for good, but Frieza's twisted affection only grew stronger. In his eyes, she was no longer his savior—she was his salvation, a light he refused to let escape.

Masterpost

DBS Masterlist

[joshfuckingkiszka]

𝔇𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰 - 𝔍𝔗𝔎

jtk x f!reader

I love this song SO much UGH

warnings: alcohol usage, mentions of fwb situation, hickeys, lil angst

THIS BLOG IS 18+ MINORS DNI

taylor's version masterpost

reputation masterpost

☮

Our secret moments in your crowded room They got no idea about me and you

Even though your own gaze had found purchase on the chip in your big toe’s nail polish through your open toed heels, another’s scorched your cheek. His stare was reminiscent of the ones he gave you in the bedroom, and you blushed at the thought. In his deep brown eyes, lay memories of the previous night, which could be found in the left side of your bed, where his shape had stayed because you couldn’t find it in yourself to make it and destroy whatever he had left. 

You found that if you stared for too long, the craving for him would become abhorrently intense. By the smirk on his gorgeous face, you knew that he could see how shaky your champagne-filled hand and your deep breaths had become. 

In your attempt to make it seem like you weren’t staring for too long - don’t attract too much attention - you realized you had lost him in the crowd. That being, before his long finger was tapping you on the shoulder and for a second, your heart stopped. The fear did not cause the abnormal beat, but his presence did, and everything seemed to halt in that moment. 

Say my name and everything just stops I don't want you like a best friend

“Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” You rolled your eyes at his saccharine tone. 

Caving in, you answered, “I would be more if there weren’t … such a crowd.” Subtle. 

“I can see how that would bother you.” 

When he offered no explanation, you countered, “How so?” 

“Well those bruises peeking out from under all that makeup on your chest looks like they hurt.” You blushed, covering what only he knew was there. 

“I told you not to be so … obvious with your … affection,” you lightly scolded him, even though you had practically begged him for them. The same way you would probably beg him later on. 

He hummed as a first response, pausing then asking, “New dress?” 

“Mhm.” You took a sip of your champagne, your head swimming despite how little you had drunk. “New other things too.” 

He couldn’t even reply before Josh was pulling him away, apologizing but insisting his presence was required. You scoffed when you saw Jake clearly playing wingman for Josh, some girl hanging off of his arm, and you downed your drink, heading for another. 

At the end of the night, Jake ended up at your apartment once more. The tipsiness was affecting both of you but your drunken kissing was so much more intoxicating. 

Everyone thinks that they know us But they know nothing about

“You’re all mine, you know that?” It wasn’t in the normal dominating tone he donned in the bedroom. There was a softness to him in that moment, and he caressed your jaw as he spoke and even after. 

You looked at him in earnest, wondering how anyone could ever deserve him. “I know Jakey.” 

“I don’t think you do.” He smiled and went back in for another sparkling kiss. He was yours but Jake Kiszka belonged to everyone around him: his brothers, his friends, his fans. 

You needed him like you needed the air around you to fill your lungs, and some part of you hoped he needed you in the same way. It was a selfish thought, of course, but you had given up the most needed parts of yourself to him. Your affection was his, your hope was his, your heart, well, I think you know. 

When your “relationship,” or whatever it was, first started, you had the generic friends-with-benefits rules: no mouth kissing, no staying the night, no feelings etc. However, as time passed, the rules felt arbitrary, and you had both come to ignore them no matter the personal cost. Jake loved the taste of your lips after a night out with your friends. You loved curling up next to him, and, even more, waking up with him. The feelings were there, yet unspoken. The last rite of passage before it became an official relationship, and neither of you were sure when to take that step. You needed him to confirm what you already held as fact. So much that you were willing to almost ruin it. 

Carve your name into my bedpost 'Cause I don't want you like a best friend

“Danny asked me out.” He was silent, and you watched his eyes harden. 

“Well,” he cleared his throat, “what did you say?” You scoffed. 

He could be so dumb when he wanted to be. “Of course, I said no.” Like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and it was. 

“Why?” The obvious answer would be that you loved Jake, but that wasn’t even the obvious question. Jake wasn’t asking why you turned his friend down, he was asking why you told him. Truthfully, you weren’t really sure. 

Your throat tightened a bit as you spoke, “I just wanted you to know.”

“Know what, exactly?” He asked with a hum and a sharp inquiry of your name. 

“I-I don’t know, know that he asked. Know that other people are interested. Know that I feel like I’m losing every sense of self the longer I tell myself that one day you’ll man up and tell me that you love me so I don’t have to keep telling myself!” 

Even in my worst lies You saw the truth in me

He softened. “I never meant for that to happen, baby.” Tears had nearly breached the edge of your eye and you wanted them to, to make him feel worse, to know that he made you cry. 

“I don’t want to keep pretending that our relationship is strictly professional, or god, friendly! If it’s a conflict of interest, I-I’ll fucking resign and find something else, but I don’t want to find anyone else to share my heart with, Jacob, I can’t.” I already gave it all to you - went unspoken. 

“Okay,” he spoke calmly as he reached to hold you in his embrace, and you welcomed him. 

“I’m not good at coming up with words on the spot, but I want you to know that every fiber of my being belongs to you, that my soul is yours to keep and cherish for as long as you want. I love you.”

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

〚taglist〛

gvf: @doodle417, @brokenbellz, @gretavanfleas, @pyrojoshy, @greta-van-chaos, @xserenax-13, @hayley1623, @kdarling1, @autumns30, @keighoe, @chalametpwk, @sammysvanfeet, @shawnsthighs, @gretavanbitches, @sammiejane22, @gretavanbestie, @jordierama, @alexxavicry, @spark-my-nature, @rainy-darling

jokey: @loofypoofy, @livkiszka

[veephoenix]

Chapter tags & trigger warnings: angst/hurt, intoxication, patient in recovery, panic attacks, mentions of substance abuse. | Word count: 1.5k | Series masterpost. ✧.*

General trigger warnings: This work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction and violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised.

The world we live in is one that teaches you to fear death since you’re a child, but as we grow up, some of us realize that we’re not really scared of dying; we’re scared of losing the ones we love the most.

Twenty-four hours after I held Lia in my arms, I called grandma. It was 5pm in Japan. 

“Grandma, it’s Lia. She’s… she’s in the hospital. I don’t know what to do.”

I didn’t know what else to say, either, and there was nothing she could say to change the situation. 

Lia lay in an uncomfortable bed, and IV line connected to her right arm. Her black tights and the oversized shirt she had been using as a dress were gone, replaced by a whitish gown. Underneath, ECG leads were attached to her chest to keep track of her heart. Her feet were naked under the cold sheets. The hardest part to look at was her face. She was pale, her lips chapped, her hair greasy, and there was an NC connected to her nose to provide her with oxygen. 

Her eyes were closed. I couldn’t see her light. 

I couldn’t bear to see her like that. 

I was sitting in the single uncomfortable armchair that was in the room, looking at her with my chin rested on my intertwined hands. My elbows pressed on my knees. My body was bent forward, toward her. There was nothing I could do but stare at her benumbed body.  

I had touched her hand before, but the cold startled me, and I had to leave the room for a while before I succumbed to another wave of panic.  

The first panic attack came when we arrived at the hospital, right after the paramedics carried Lia’s numb body in a stretcher towards the ER. The air was thick with urgency as they talked to a group of people covered in white clothes: nurses and doctors. One of them turned her gaze toward me, and a few seconds after, the woman was standing in front of me. She asked me who I was to Lia. I didn’t know what to say. Her best friend, her only family, her lover? Luckily for me, Jolly was standing by my side, and he gave an honest and valid reply, sparing me from the struggle. With a nod of acknowledgment, the doctor asked for an insight into Lia’s history, her problems. They wanted to know what had happened, why it had happened…

Then I started panicking. I didn’t know where to look, where to go. 

Jolly must have managed the situation. The doctor nodded, jotting down a few things on a sheet of paper, and went back to where Lia had been taken; a secluded corner where she was out of my sight the moment they moved a curtain to separate her body from the rest of the patients and people in the emergency room.  

There were too many people. Too many accidents. Too much pain and death. 

I shouldn’t be there. Merely four hours ago I was standing on a stage, controlling a crowd of over six thousand people. Now, I couldn’t get a hold of myself. 

My breaths grew ragged, the noise around me transforming into an unbearable symphony. Tightness gripped my chest. I was suffocating. I pressed a trembling hand against my chest as I moved somewhere in search of support. I heard a few voices behind me, some calling my name. Then there were a few nurses approaching us, one of them said something about not being allowed in those premises, that we had to wait outside. I couldn’t wait, didn’t they understand? I needed to know that Lia was going to be okay. They wouldn’t shut up. Someone called out my name, louder than before, the voice breaking through. Following that, I felt a hand gripping my shoulder. 

Nicholas.

I looked up to find him, and I collapsed in his arms as I let out a cry and the tears started flowing. 

He held the weight of my body as I emptied myself of everything I’d been carrying for the last few months: the guilt for not realizing sooner that Lia was being abused by the one who was supposed to adore her, the guilt for not gathering the courage to tell her what I felt, the anger for every time Lia refused to talk to me, the anger at every time she decided the pills were better than my shoulder, then, every other mistake until this very right moment, when I didn’t know if I would ever get the chance to hold her in my arms and see her smiling up at me, her eyes shining with anticipation as I bent down to kiss her. 

A nurse approached us and suggested that I lay down in one of the beds. The promise of care and a calming remedy seemed tempting, but all that I could mutter was a harsh “fuck off”. I didn’t want to hear about any fucking pill that would calm me down. Nicholas raised a hand and gestured towards the nurse to give me some space. 

It took me a grueling thirty minutes to calm down, and even after that, I still couldn’t stand straight without my legs shaking and my chest hurting. My eyes would burn until Lia opened hers. 

I didn’t sleep that night, and neither did I the next one. 

I remained awake, by Lia’s side. At times I drifted between reality and dreams. There were moments when I drifted into a hazy realm, only to be abruptly pulled back into the real world. In those instances, I would jolt awake gripped by the haunting illusion that Lia had woken up, that she was awake and was calling my name, asking for my hand to pull her out of the water. 

She was still unconscious. 

As the hours ticked away, the room started getting filled with flowers and bouquets that our friends brought as they came to see her, check on her. Jolly stayed with me for hours and insisted that I go to the hotel and take a shower, get changed into clean clothes and eat something while he looked after her, but I denied over and over again, relenting only when he managed to coax me into sipping on a cheap disgusting coffee fetched from the hospital’s cafeteria. 

I saw him crying for the first time in my life when he entered the room shortly after they had settled Lia into the bed. 

Folio didn’t even dare to come in. He was terrified, and I learnt days later that he had endured a series of nightmares the night following the incident. 

As I looked around and took in the colors filling the room, I wondered if the number of flowers was intended for Lia or perhaps meant as a collective gesture to instill hope in me, a silent illusion that would make me believe that Lia would recover.  

I had lost track of time. 

I had seen the sun rise twice since I settled in that sterile room, which meant I had been there for two days and that Lia had been asleep for forty-eight hours, at least. I had only eaten two bites of a cheese sandwich that someone brought. I couldn’t recall if it was Matt or Bryan. Maybe, Jolly. Who cared. 

I saw them all coming in and out of the room constantly the first day. The second one, it was just me and the closest to me and Lia. The rest of the team flew back home because life didn’t stop, even if it had for her. Even if it had for me. 

My mind was filled with a void, but every once in a while a question would pop up, or an image. They were so random, varying from one happy scenario to a very tragic one. I saw Lia as a kid, when grandma used to do her hair and braid it at her back, then I saw her falling of my bike, but she looked older. I saw myself drowning in the same lake where we had swum all those summers ago. I saw Lia kissing a boy who wasn’t me in the lake’s deck. Then I saw her wearing the same dress she had worn the day she graduated from high school. The image transitioned to one in which she was wearing a white dress. I was waiting for her at the end of the desire path, ready to marry her. In the next one, I saw her playing with a huge dog somewhere in the mountains, her body covered by layers of clothing and a thick scarf. She smiled at someone, and I realized it was at me. She called me to go to her, and I did, but as I reached to grab her hand, she faded away. 

I opened my eyes in a halt, again. I sat upright in the armchair and grabbed the front of the hoodie I was wearing. I was breathing hard, and I could feel a drop of sweat sliding down my back. 

It was a dream. 

Then, I heard what I had been waiting for two eternal days, and there was no telling it wasn’t real. 

“Noah?”

Lia’s voice calling my name. 

Author's note: This is the end of Koi No Yokan. From this chapter we move onto Zutto (or a Promise of Forever) where I promise there will be less angst and more fluff and love between Lia and Noah 🥹

Thank you to every one that's been reading and commenting on this story :') It means a lot.

READ ZUTTO CHAPTER ONE HERE

[companion-showdown]

Best companion to get intoxicated with: Round 0 Masterpost

the elimintation numbers on the posts themselves are largely wrong because I made a mistake and only realised when it was too late, its two per group except 14 and 15 which is 3

Day 2

Elimination Groups:

Group 8 (2 eliminations)

God the Computer

Hallan

Hass

Hebe Harrison

Hex Schofield

Irving Braxiatel

Jack McSpringheel

Group 9 (2 eliminations)

Jane Austen

Jason Kane

John (Another Girl, Another Planet)

Joseph (Oh No it Isn't)

Joseph (The Doomsday Manuscript)

Koschei

Laura Tobin

Group 10 (2 eliminations)

Lola Denison

Mark Seven

McQueen!Master

Miranda Who

Mother Francesca

Mother Mathara

Mr Crofton

Group 11 (2 eliminations)

Ms Jones

Narvin

Pandora

Peter Summerfield

Preacher!Master

Renee Thalia

Romana III

Group 12 (2 eliminations)

Ruth Leonidus

Sabbath Dei

Sam Bishop

Scarlette

Stratum Seven Agent

Tameka Vito

The Black Dalek Leader

Group 13 (2 eliminations)

The Earl of Sandwich

The Original Golden Dalek Emperor

The War King

Unnamed Courtesan (In the Year of the Cat)

V.M.McCrimmon

Valarie Lockwood

Wolsey

Group 14 (3 eliminations)

Ianto Jones

Toshiko Sato

Owen Harper

Andy Davidson

Gwen Cooper

Banana Boat

The TARDIS

Missy

Group 15 (3 eliminations)

Sally Sparrow

Larry Nightingale

Bannakaffalatta

Vincent van Gogh

Madam Vastra

Psi

Saibra

Beep the Meep

Seeding Groups

Group 8

Charley Pollard

Evelyn Smythe

Lucie Miller

Liv Chenka

Group 9

Bernice Summerfield

Fitz Kreiner

Frobisher

Iris Wildthyme

Group 10

Rose Tyler

Mickey Smith

Jack Harkness

Martha Jones

Group 11

Donna Noble

Wilfred Mott

River Song

Amy Pond

Rory Williams

Group 12

Clara Oswald

Bill Potts

Nardole

Yasmin Khan

Group 13

Graham O'Brien

Ryan Sinclair

Dan Lewis

Ruby Sunday

day 1 under the cut

Day 1

Elimination Groups:

Group 1 (2 eliminations)

Sara Kingdom

Bret Vyon

Delgado!Master

Morbius

Sutekh the Destroyer

Cessiar of Diplos

Duggan

Group 2 (2 eliminations)

Erato

Pangol of Argolis

Deedrix of Tigella

Soldeed of Skonnos

The Three who Rule

Varsh

Group 3 (2 eliminations)

Keara

Tylos

Tremas of Traken

Panna

Karuna

Aris

Group 4 (2 eliminations)

Richard Mace

Kamelion

King Yrcanos

Sabalom Glitz

The Kandyman

Karra

Group 5 (2 eliminations)

Adrien Wall

Alan Turing

B-Aaron

C'rizz

Captain Black

Captain Magenta

Carmen Yeh

Group 6 (2 eliminations)

Chris Cwej

Clarence the Angel

Compassion

Cousin Anastasia

Cousin Gustav

Cousin Intrepid

Cousin Justine

Group 7 (2 eliminations)

Cousin Octavia

D'eon

Death's Head

Eliza

Elspeth (Where Angels Fear)

Emilie Mars-Smith

Father Kreiner

Seeding Groups

Group 1

Susan Foreman

Barbara Wright

Ian Chesterton

Vicki Pallister

Group 2

Steven Taylor

Dodo Chaplet

Ben Jackson

Polly Wright

Group 3

Jamie McCrimmon

Victoria Waterfield

Zoe Heriot

The Brigadier

Sergeant Benton

Group 4

Liz Shaw

Mike Yates

Jo Grant

Sarah-Jane Smith

Harry Sullivan

Group 5

Leela

K9

Romana I

Romana II

Group 6

Adric

Nyssa

Tegan Jovanka

Vislor Turlough

Group 7

Peri Brown

Mel Bush

Ace McShane

Chang Lee

Grace Holloway

[mxddyhero]

JUZA CELEBRATION WEEK BABEEY 🎉🫶🥰

I'm gutted that I missed yesterday because I wasn't feeling well, BUT!!! You're all still getting my headcanons for day one because time is fake.

Day 1: Headcanons

I will link my other hc masterpost if I ever find it on tumblr's search system

Ambidextrous 👏 Juza 👏 I will never stop with this agenda.

Now that he's in Mankai, his favourite holiday is Valentine's Day (because not only does he get chocolate from fans and his friends now, but he can also get the discounted chocolate that goes on sale the next day. it has TRIPLED.)

Along with becoming complimentary when he drinks, he also hums !! Nothing in particular, just whatever comes to mind in the moment, or if there's a song playing he knows, he'll happily hum along !!

Also. Canonically good at karaoke sober. Terrible when intoxicated.

Paracetamol and ibuprofen Do Not Work on him, the only thing that does is aspirin.

I fear that as a kid, bro went to the ice cream van so much that the guy would give him an extra flake for free because he was such a loyal customer

he has two plaid shirts, but neither of them are red

momma hyodo first made anmitsu to try to encourage Juza to have more healthy desserts... and well.

[preaching-to-the-fire]

Preaching to the Fire (Adam HH x OC)

Chapter 1 - Encounter with the devil

Masterpost (infos, tags and chapter index) | [~1 550 words]

Pain. Blood. Lots of both.

Adam wheezes his way into life again. Then chokes back to death. Blackness. Nothingness. At least the pain is gone. Until he opens his eyes and breathes in and the pain kicks right back in. Every muscle, every bone, every inch of his body crippled, as if on fire. Death all over again.

His arms drag him through the battlefield. He's been left to the dust, dead, with no consideration, not even a though for his remains.

Memories are scarce at first, blurred by the blood in his eyes so they're not really visual, but sensed, felt, instead. He remembers the extatic satisfaction of wrecking that fucking deer-puppet and his shit-eating grin ; the intoxicating feeling of long-awaited revenge when he grabbed a hold of Lucifer's useless bitch of a daughter ; then remembers the overheated, blinded hatred the moment the King of Hell came in to save her ; and he remembers — no, feels, really, even now, the pulsating, excruciating pain through his chest, the water in his eyes, the flames in his throat when--

He finds a dead-end in a dark alleyway. Drags himself through the mud and litter and crumbles unconscious against a wall.

Then he dies again, and remembers none of that.

Voices, screams, jagged laughs echo. That sense of urgency creeping under his skin won't leave him the fuck alone. His slumber is troubled by fever and fear, he jolts at the bruising noises around him, immediately thinking they've come back to finish the job, then dives back into hallucinations.

He dreams instead. Of a light, warm breeze on his naked skin — a whole new one, just like the rest of his body. Standing for the first time on wobbly legs. Using his newfound voice to voice out thoughts. Thoughts, feelings, sensations, all equaly new. God and the angels, watching over him. The warm embrace of Eve's arms. The curiosity boiling in his veins, the need for more, more, more--

Adam opens his eyes. Where the fuck is he? Ah. That's right. He looks down at his robe, unrecognisable underneath the shit ton layers of-- he doesn't even wanna know what he's dragged himself through. He lets out a sharp, breathless growl in protest as he tries to move — impossible. His body is hurting like it never has before, and his head is echoing like it's being banged on relentlessly with a fucking pan. He could swear it's on fire or something.

He tries to fight off the sleepiness but his eyes keep closing on their own. He feels watched but there's no one there except for some rats. He falls back asleep.

When he awakes again later, he is face-to-face with a pair of shiny eyes — that of a rat, standing right there on his belly.

"The fuck!" he almost shouts, the rats running away with a squeak. His voice cracks and he coughs so much he nearly chokes. Each cough feels like fire is sent up his throat.

When he is able to breathe again, he notices how thirsty he is. But looking around he understands the only source of water in his immediate reach is a puddle of green, muddy water that might as well be his own puke.

He can't move so much. Then again, even if he could, what would he do? Get out in Hell's streets, walk in a bar and ask for water? No fucking way. Everyone here knows who he is. He's commanded years of exterminations. He'd be dead the moment he stepped out of this dumpster of an alleyway — this time for good. God, he hopes Sera comes for him soon.

Another squeak.

Adam makes the mistake of spinning his head towards the noise and is reminded of the hellish fire blazing inside his brains right now. He winces, hands clawed to his temples, then flashes a glance towards the rat.

It's standing on a dustbin and Adam notices : there's water slowly dripping from a gutter pipe.

"What the fuck?" he murmurs.

There's absolutely no fucking way a rat just understood he's thirsty. But then again he's not gonna spit on the coincidence. He tries to move closer, slowly, and after pushing the bin aside, positions himself right below the pipe, joining his hands together so as to collect some of the precious liquid. He looks at it, doubtful.

Meh. Doesn't look as bad as the puke puddle over there.

There's not only one rat, he notices after he's drunk as much water as possible, his chin streaming. There's a whole gang of those, scattered along the edges of the walls, hiding underneath the boxes and bins and other garbage.

... And they all seem to be looking at him.

A shiver shoots up his spine. He's feeling very uneasy.

Another rat trotts up to him. It's... holding something in its mouth?

"Are those fucking biscuits?"

And they are. A whole little packet of it. Adam winces.

"What the fuck. Where does that come from, the fucking sewers?"

He speaks a little too loud and the rats squeak anddash to hide in spots of shades, their presence only notable for their shining eyes. Then the rat with the biscuits approaches again, in careful, small steps.

Adam pouts. But, uh-oh. That growling stomach says otherwise.

"Ugh. Fine. Give me the shit," he murmurs in his low, broken voice, stretching a hand towards the rodent.

It trotts up to him gently and drops the thing his hand before it rushes away.

Adam holds the packet between two fingers, visibly disgusted. But when he opens it he realised it's okay, the food sure looks eatable from here and hey, if it isn't, at worst he's gonna throw it right back up. Right now he's just too damn hungry.

The three lonely biscuits aren't remotely enough to feed him, but at least they ease the hunger, and sleepiness kicks back in immediately. Adam leans against the wall again, not even noticing, and as his eyes are closing, he catches a glimpse of light reflecting on some smooth, metallic surface.

Hey. Is that his axe?

Did he drag it all the way here when he was half dead?

Before he can answer the question, he falls asleep.

Steps echo. Adam wakes up, dizzy. Steps get closer. Oh. OH.

Adam immediately reaches out for his axe, on an impulse. He's way to weak to fight and he knows it. That doesn't mean he'll go down passive, resigned.

A silhouette at the other end of the alleyway. Steps. The rats don't seem alarmed. A pair of ranger boots stop a few steps before him.

Fingers clung to the handle of his guitar, Adam fights the headache and looks up.

The person standing in front of him flashes a toothy grin under a strand of black curly hair, silent for a while. They raise an eyebrow.

"Can you play?"

Adam doesn't get it at first, then briefly glances at his guitar.

"Can I play the guitar?" he echoes, kinda dumbfounded.

"Well unless you have an accordion hidden up your ass..."

Adam lets out a joyless chuckle. Of all things, that's not really what he was expecting them to say.

"Do I know how to play the guitar, seriously? Bitch, d'you have any fucking idea who I--"

His voice dies, hesitant, as a thought makes its way. He's not wearing his mask. His robe is unrecognisable. Probably that person doesn't, actually, know who he is. And, probably, it's best he keeps his identity a secret right now. He shrugs painfully and gives them a black look.

"What if I can? What do you care?"

The stranger, all clad in hues of black and yellow, punkish outfit, pleated skirt that looks like it's straight out of a 2000s teenage magazine, straightens up so as to better look down at him. Their grin widens.

"If you can play and if you're any good, I'd be happy to provide you with food and medical care."

Adam's eyebrows rise in surprise and defiance. "What, just like that?"

"This is how it works with me. So?"

He hesitates. But really he hasn't got a choice, right? Can't stay in that cesspool forever... How long has it been already?

Resigned, he brings his guitar close to his chest and plucks the strings one by one, then adjusts the pegs. His fingers are so painful they're practically grating with every move. He shoots up a challenging look at the stranger. And starts playing.

In his head, everything sounds awful. But the muscle memory is there. No wrong notes, the strings easily bend to his will and his hands, although swollen and painful, really it feels like playing with fucking sausages instead of fingers, move up and down the neck of his axe in the same habit they've always had. The melody's cutting and dry, aggressive. The strings bite Adam's fingers.

When he's done, he could swear he's seen the stranger's rounded, rat-like ears twitch a few times.

"I see," they smile, voice like poisoned honey. "Let's take you somewhere safe then, uh?"

But Adam frowns, not quite certain this is his best option yet.

"Who the fuck are you anyway?"

They lean in towards him, covering him in their shadow and offer a helping, gloved hand crowned with claws.

"You can call me Valska."

[bhaalbabebardlock]

Daisies on My Nightstand

Chapter 20- Vulnerable

Masterpost

AO3 Link

Summary: Ilara and Gortash start to get to know each other to work out their plan.

Always the temptress. Always the one in charge of the careful web of seduction and sweet promises of death she offered to everyone she came across. Until she had made that promise, to Raphael. The way he enjoyed watching her obey someone other than her God was almost intoxicating, his pleasure at Bhaal's irritation like a fine wine she could sip on for days and never grow bored with. It had only been him. Until now.

Her gaze slid back to Gortash, sitting across from her on the bed. She had expected him to try and seduce her, charm her, bed her, own her. She was sure he would, eventually. She could see the way his dark eyes lingered, the way his pupils dilated slightly as they traveled over her exposed, bloodied skin. For now, he had said he just wanted to talk. She didn't know what to do with that information. She didn't know what do with someone wanting to know her. Someone interested in her beyond the pleasures she could offer them before she hungrily devoured them in sacrifice. Someone interested in her beyond the slivers of her soul being fought over like carrion scraps by Gods and devils and mortals alike. She felt intrigued by his interest, finding herself drawn to him, interested in turn. She wanted to figure him out. To understand him.

"To answer your question," she finally said softly, "I like to do many things. I draw. And play the lute. I write, sometimes. What about you?" Her insides churned at the rare opportunity to offer some vulnerability, holding out those fragments she had collected of who she really was, her head burning with the knowledge that she had disobeyed. That when she returned to the temple, she would be punished for her insolence. Her mind only briefly flickered to thoughts of that impending punishment before pushing them away. She would atone later.

"I like to invent. Tinker. Make things more useful." His answer was so concise, a reflection to what he said earlier about her being of use to him. She supposed that she wasn't surprised by this answer. Something within her stirred, desperately craving more, more of what he was like. Fascinated as she was by her revulsion of her father, by her dedication to her own defiance, she couldn't help but be pulled to the parts of him that belonged to him. Not to his god. She gazed back at him, studying him closely as he did the same to her. Two wild animals, carefully observing one another, each waiting for the other to show weakness. 

She noticed that the tips of his fingers, tented under his chin, were calloused- finding herself flushing as she wondered what they would feel like against the softness of her own skin. His dark hair fell in thick strands around his face, looking as if he ran those fingers through it constantly, a carefully tousled mess. She wondered what emotions made him do that. Was it when he was irritated? Lost in thought? Was it a mindless habit?

Her eyes continued to wander, noting the way the soft candlelight reflected off the warm colors of the metal gauntlet he wore on his hand, casting shadows off the soft gold threads in his coat. She frowned slightly as she observed him, taking in these details. She could feel a hum of magic spinning through the coat, tasting it on her tongue. She held it there for a moment, trying to know what it was she was feeling.

Fear. Or rather, the lack of it. That's interesting. What did he have to be so afraid of? She cast her mind back to when she had revealed herself to him just hours ago, that apathetic look burning in his eyes counteractive to his coy smile and honeyed words. She did not fear death, as it was her closest companion. Her lover between lovers on long nights when she curled into bed alone. But he did. Enough that he had taken his fear away of anything altogether. Interesting, She thought again. What have you been through?

"Are you done staring at me?" The question sliced through her thoughts, her face smoothing from that piqued curiosity back to a mixture of trepidation and distrust. She quirked an eyebrow, tenting her own fingers under her chin and leaning towards him, unable to stop the question bubbling out of her mouth.

"What are you so afraid of?" She wondered momentarily if she shouldn't have asked the question, something so intimate. But she had never been one for being tactful, social graces forgotten behind masks carefully crafted to hide any shred of the person behind them. She could feel his closeness across the bed, the few feet between them thick with something she couldn't place. Something more than lust, which she knew.

"You are not one to hold back from what is on your mind, are you?" His voice held that weight of command, that made her want to listen to his every word, laced through with slight amusement, a brief shadow of something like irritation in his dark eyes at her observation. Perhaps he was not used to being observed. Good. He had spent long enough observing her without her knowledge. She stared back at him, enjoying the way his eyes had briefly flickered through those emotions, ending with surprise, caught off guard by her boldness before he folded them all back into that carefully studying gaze.

"Regardless, that's not for you to know, god-spawn. Not yet." She let out a soft sound of amusement, only more intrigued by the puzzle that was this man before her. She would have to try harder, if she was to understand him. That was fine. She could play that game.

"Time is precious. Why waste it with pointless drabble?" She preened silently again at that flicker of surprise, amused that she could get him to display an emotion beyond that so carefully formed apathy. 

"You aren't like other Bhaal-spawn. You see beyond the glow of your order. Your bloodlust. How? Why?" She stiffened, narrowing her eyes at him.

"That's not for you to know, Banite," she quipped back, tossing his earlier words to him. She was fascinated by the unbridled laughter that fell from his mouth. She found herself leaning forward stretching out her hand, hungrily drinking in the way his mouth crinkled at the corners, the way the wrinkles near his eyes seemed to deepen. She wanted to make him laugh again. Spend forever hearing that sound. 

She wondered briefly, for a moment , if he could be a friend. Raphael was certainly not her friend, some mockery of a master behind the master that truly held his soul between her hands. Haarlep was maybe a friend, sometimes. Their tender, soft touches when they tended to the bruises Raphael left behind were some indication of that, but that was because they were told to, she was sure. She hadn't heard laughter like that in over a year, not since the night Bhaal had reclaimed her, making her slaughter all the friends she had managed to make. Her heart beat painfully in her chest. Friends were not something she was allowed to have. She quickly pulled her hand back to her chest, folding it in her lap.

She knew when she felt the laughter bubble out of her own mouth, so caught off guard by his amusement, that she would suffer for this. That this kind of laughter was not allowed. That this sort of intimacy was the exact thing she had been warned against. She pressed her hand to her mouth, trying to suppress her giggling, amused by the difference between this and the horrid peals of deranged laughter she had indulged in so many times. This was so much lighter. 

She finally glanced back up at him after his laughter had quieted, her mind going still at the way his eyes seemed to burn into her, searing into her very core. Her eyes quickly flickered away from his intense gaze, an unidentifiable feeling turning her stomach into hot coals.

"Now you're the one staring." She felt a flicker of confusion at the look on his face, reaching up and tucking a curl of her hair behind her ear, sighing as she was reminded of the blood on her dark fingers, coloring her hair and clothes. She needed a bath, and would not get one for a long while- the heaviness of her atonement weighing up on her thoughts.

"What?" She couldn't help the flicker of irritation that threaded through her voice as her gaze slid away from her hands and back to his, to find him still staring at her.

"You're beautiful. When you laugh like that." His words sent cold tendrils of desire, of dread, of fear for him and herself up and down her spine. She didn't know what that feeling uncurling itself in her stomach was, but it was dangerous. He was dangerous. She rose to her feet, shaking her head at him.

"You would be much safer if you didn't say things like that. I should go." She studied his face carefully, watching the flicker of emotions again, her heart clenching painfully as she saw the ones she had been looking for. Desire. Longing. A deep sadness. Maybe he had just wanted connection, as much as she did. Maybe they were both lonely, just trying to carve out an existence under the thrall of gods crueler than they could have imagined in their worst nightmares. 

"You'll be back, won't you? We do have things to discuss. To plan. Getting to that crown will not be easy." She hesitated only slightly, her mind again flickering to the last time she had dared to make friends. What was one more calculated defiance? She would bring him more sacrifices to atone. She would beg his forgiveness and promise she would be good. His vanity was always the drive behind him accepting her lies so prettily.

"Yes," she found herself saying slowly. "I'll be back."

***

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

do you have a masterlist?

Ps.Love your writing!!

Thank you anon!!! ❤❤Now, I didn't have a masterlist until now, but here ya go.

Edit: I fixed it because I've finally got the hang of hyperlinks. This is everything I ever wrote here and I might update it every once in a while.

Note: The prompts don't all have the titles I wrote here, they're titled after numbers, the titles here are just based on themes.

P.S: You guys can use anything I've tagged as a prompt, as in continue it even if I've done a continuation, write smth based on it or a prompt fill for my short prompts. Please just tag me if you do! But the fragments of my story are NOT for use in anyway. Anything tagged as 'NOT A PROMPT' shouldn't be used please. I love reblogs sm, but NO reposts please!

Surplus If Sarcasm's Writing Masterpost

Main Taglist

Here

Prompts W/Superpowers

Mind Reading (Emotional angst)

Mind Reading Pt.2 (comfort in a way)

Wind + Geokinesis (Emotional angst mostly, a little comfort)

Fire vs. Ice (humour, found family)

Lightning + Shape-shifting (dark(er) humour)

Captured (angst, mysterious-ish)

Flying +W/ Powers x Powerless (humour, fight scene)

Difficult Past/Present (Angst)

Parents? (emotional angst, a little comfort)

When They Don't Care (humour and angst somehow)

Never Enough (family angst w/some comfort)

Sequel to Never Enough (more family angst w/some comfort

Together (mysterious, a little bit of whump, implied comfort)

Stars in a Pitch Black Sky (angst then sweet fluff)

Light after Dark (slightly whumpy angst that ends in romance)

Misunderstandings (ah yes, another angsty fic that ends in romance, f/m)

Second Chance (rich hero x poor villain)

How Many Lies on the Road to Truth? (mysterious, moral greyness, a hint of romance)

How Many Lies on the Road to Truth, Part 2

How Many Lies on the Road to Truth, Part 3

Maybe Romantic

Touch-starved (married hero x villain)

Dance with me? (not actually me, the characters, lol)

Yes, I Even Made This One Angsty

When It Gets Too Much

When It Gets Too Much Pt.2

Speechless (Cocky hero x flustered villain)

Turning Tables (Flirty villain x even flirtier hero)

Tied Together (Married hero x villain again)

Romance Your Demons

Somewhere Beyond the Ashes (angsty at first, f/m)

Intoxicating Love (villain gets hero drunk)

Love & Blood (Vampire hero x human villain, f/m)

Reborn (Vampire villain x human hero, pretty flirty)

Bloody Love Letter (f!villain /m!civilian, flirty, confession)

Why Do You Hesitate? (f!hero/m!villain, slightly angsty but sweet confession fic)

I Do (forced marriage, f/m)

I Do Part 2

romanticide (f/m, flirty villain x flustered hero)

I Messed Around with Whump

Mystery

Now with a Vampire (dw, they don't sparkle)

Supervillains Are the Worst

Supervillains Still Suck (the previous one's Sequel)

Change

Change Pt.2

Change Pt.3

Change Pt.4

Loss

Loss Pt.2

Reluctance

Revenge (what it says on the label, not a prompt!)

Relentless (Team Leader whump)

Poisoned Honey (Yandere supervillain x hero darling)

Reversed Power (Villain x civilian)

Under His Wing (Found family, grumpy villain accidentally gets a surrogate younger brother)

Burning Up (sickfic, f/m)

Rescue of Convenience (Morally grey vigilante rescues beat-up villain with the craziest trust issues)

Rescue of Convenience Part 2

My Hero (Yandere villain x hero darling)

Mind Games (detective x hero) Can't be You (hero x villain, pretty angsty)

Your Rather Irritating Frenemy (Fluff & humour)

Why Are You Here?

Let's End All Essays

Tired?

New Year's

Someone Close By

Fragments of a Book Series I'm NOT Running Away From (No)

Heart In My Teeth (Angst, fear)

Thunderstorms (Fluffy-ish)

I Do Not Believe in Giving Up (Angsty fight scene)

I Do Not Believe in Giving Up, Part 2 (manipulative hero lies to survive x villain)

Reverie (Angsty, mental health stuff)

Liar (posted from my non-writing sideblog, don't ask why)

Why I Hide

Last Line Tag (technically snippet)

Short Prompts

Death or Lack Thereof

Short-circuiting

Espressos and Destruction

Ambiguity

You (rich villain x tired hero)

In the Shadows (Mystery, loneliness)

Ruin

Alliance of Convenience (fake dating, scary hero, flirtationssss???)

Love with All the Stakes

More Truth than Lie

For me, mon amour?

Even Stone Can Change

The World Will Be Ours (villain x villain)

Prompt Fills

When Only Shadows Remain (sneak peak at an h x v series I plan to write)

Not Always Vengeance (Whumpy, but mostly angsty, rescue)

Not Hero X Villain Masterlist

An Ungodly Amount of Starters I Just Made Up Now

Angsty

"So it was all a lie?"

"Sorry? If you kill someone, does saying sorry to their corpse bring them back?"

"I'm used to being walked out on. What difference does it make if one more person does it?"

"Well, I'm sorry that I didn't put you first for ONCE in my life!"

"You say 'love' but do you even know what that word means?"

Fluffy

"You, me, movie marathon. And no, that is not a question."

"I don't think it's fair that anyone gets to be that cute, to the point that they can get away with all sorts of crap!"

"If you won't take care of yourself, I will!"

"How could someone see you, and just resist cuddling you?"

"This is nice and all, but I need to go to the bathroom. So, can you please get off my lap? Please?"

Goofy Villain

"Can you please die faster?"

"Do I look like a guy with a plan?"

"No, you look like an idiot without one. And yes, I know you're quoting Dark Knight."

"Now, I'd narrate my tragic backstory to you, but I'm too lazy."

"Yeah, and what are you going to defeat me with? The power of friendship?"

"I'd really do the 'join me and we could be great speech', but you're an annoying, little brat so I'm just gonna go back to trying to kill you, hm?"

Confession starters

"I'm no good with the, ya know, emotional stuff. But I don't want to imagine a world where you don't exist in my life. I love you."

"The way I love you is how fire loves destruction and how a drowning person loves a lifeline. Ths greatest poet on Earth could not string together enough words to describe the feelings I have for you."

"Here goes. Every. Single. Thing. I love you."

"Goddamn it, I love you!"

"I want you to be mine, if you would agree to let me be yours."

[thran-duils]

Lost In Your Current (P.1)

Title: Lost In Your Current (Part One) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Tony Stark. After the snap, the team realizes that certain males were given Alpha status and certain females were assigned as Omegas, all across the galaxy, as a way to control procreation. Only Omega can give birth now. Both are marked and their DNA is tied through their marks. Tony lost Pepper and fell into depression after being rescued by Carol. Even the information that he could have happiness again could not pull him out. Until the loneliness and his new Alpha gene got to be too much. When Steve contacts him that his Omega had been found, Tony cannot resist to collect her. Words: 2,033 Warnings (for the whole fic): Dub-con, a/b/o elements, smut, forced mating

Part Two || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

After he had been brought back from space and found Pepper gone, Tony had been devastated. He isolated himself despite the remaining Avengers efforts. He only let them know he was alive and was reviving himself from being starved and dehydrated in space. When he had received the intel that in the snap, males were given mates, an Alpha and Omega pairing, he had rejected the idea at first, ignoring the small A that had engrained itself on the web of his hand between his forefinger and thumb. But as time waned on, he found himself empty and even admitting that to Rhodes opened up the conversation again about finding his Omega. Rhodes was convinced Tony would find healing in that connection. Thanos had done it to set couples, control procreation. No out of wedlock. There would not be another overpopulation problem. Only Omega were able to breed now. In any corner of the galaxy, it seemed.

Somehow despite his isolation, Tony had gotten word an Omega had been captured and her imprinting mark, an outline on her gland yet to be penetrated, matched his DNA. It was not a surprise to Natasha considering his incessant need for information and adept ability to hack practically any system.

Or maybe it was because Steve had told him. That’s what Tony divulged to her upon his arrival.

“I did not tell you yet for a reason,” Natasha told him.

They were standing in the observation room. Like many Omega after the snap, she had gone into hiding as soon as the information was out, and she had noticed the mark on her neck. People were not keen on being forced into submission and this situation was no different. Quickly, a drug had been developed and distributed. Still, the Omega had stayed in hiding, still fearful they could be detected despite the suppressants.

“Yeah, I’m used to you not telling people things,” Tony told her coldly. “You learned that from Fury well enough.”

Natasha swallowed his insult, knowing he was getting himself riled up just at the sight of her. She needed to be delicate about this. She had planned on telling him and inviting him to the compound but she had wanted to give Y/N time, get her as calm as possible to meet her Alpha. Steve had ruined that. So, she had to just go ahead now that Tony was here, ready to pounce. He had held off for so long, but the loneliness and loss had gotten to him. Or the drive to find himself buried in his Omega had sunk in; hormones were a bitch.

“She’s been on the suppressants. It may take a while for her to feel her heat,” Natasha told him.

“’A while’? How long has she been off them?”

“We’ve had her in here a few days. But a week at least.”

Tony growled and turned away from her. His eyes found Y/N again on the other side of the glass, watching her meander in the room serving as her cell to keep her safe. “She’s so close! A few days at best!”

Tony could already see it, smell it. It did not matter there was a wall separating, she was coming in through the circulation. And she already smelled deserving of his veneration.

Natasha inhaled sharply and took a step towards him. Firmly, she asked, “Do you need to leave, Tony?”

“No!” he spat, shooting her a threatening glare. He was just daring her to try to force him to leave.

As if he would let his prize out of his sight. He had been lost the moment he had laid eyes on her, smelled her sweet scent of sea breeze and jasmine.

Natasha would threaten him in return. She was not afraid of him, unlike most people. She was firm when she told him, “I won’t allow you to mate an Omega without their consent. She won’t realize she’s in heat yet. You need to wait until next cycle. Even if it is your soulmate and you think it’s for the best. And by think, I use it lightly cause I can see your fingers are white with how hard you are trying to hold onto that ledge to keep a grip on control.”

Tony snorted impatiently. Next cycle? Fuck that. He had been stuck in space and been screwed over by Thanos. He lost Pepper. He deserved this. He deserved her, he deserved this new start. He had gotten himself healthy again. And why not for this?

His Alpha was rearing its head; he had his soulmate so close, and he was so convinced he could trip her into heat early.

His eyes were fixated on his mate on the other side of the glass. She was moving around unbeknownst that he could see her, that he was watching her. His cock was tight against his jeans, and he adjusted, shooting a glance at Natasha who did not miss the movement.

He paced more, keeping his eyes set on her. She licked her lips, her hands wringing together as she sat down on the bench at the window she was allowed. She would have so much to look at when she was at his house. He had moved north, bought a large house settled in the mountains. So much space for her to wander, under his direction of course. He could not risk losing her either. But he wanted her happy. Only if happy meant she was with him though. He would not settle for anything less. He would force that mating bond on her if that is what it took to ensure she would warm his bed.

Out of Tony’s sight, Natasha cocked her head towards the door and Carol followed her. They thought Tony did not even notice them leave. Not that that was unexpected considering how zoned in he was.

Outside the room, door closed behind them, Natasha told her, “I’m gonna kill Steve. She needed a week—”

“Steve is just as meat headed as Tony. As little of time I’ve known him, I’ve realized that I’m not shocked he gave him the tip. He has been pretty happy with his mate that he found. I thought someone as virtuous as Captain America would have at least given the situation a second though, but…”

“Hormones are not a joke,” Natasha murmured. She swore and said exasperated, “Tony is not going to leave that fucking room without an armed guard dragging him out.”

Carol shrugged. “Then leave him in there! Let him watch her and keep the eye out he thinks he needs to. As long as he doesn’t break the glass—"

“He’s on edge already, Carol. If he sees anyone enter that room — even IF they’re beta, which is the only people I will send in there now regardless — he could lose it. Send himself into a rut. But she needs testing still and food. She has to interact with our doctors.”

<><><>

Tony had certainly noticed them leave though. And he smirked as soon as the door closed. Idiots.

Waiting for the door to close after Carol and Natasha stepped outside the room, Tony hit his watch.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y…. Hit the ventilation. Knock them out outside the room I am in and hers.”

<><><>

Tony stepped over Natasha and Carol slumped on the ground and then over the guards in the hallway. He held up his watch to the keypad and F.R.I.D.A.Y unlocked the door, giving him access. He shivered physically smelling Y/N full on, her wafting out to him as he pushed the door open. The room was penetrated with her and it was intoxication. The alcohol had done nothing for him since he had returned, no amount of money spent, no amount of women he had taken to his bed. But he actually felt something when he stepped into the room.

She turned away from the window, eyes wide and curious. He made sure to close the door behind him, a barrier to her escaping. He had read in the information he had been given all those months ago that Omega were unruly when they were not claimed yet and the thought made him growl internally. If she tried to run from him… his Alpha was furious at the thought, ready to pin her.

The two of them stared at each other and he could hear her heart beating faster, reacting to him. Natasha was right; she was not ready quite yet but just being in his presence was having an impact. Yes, he could trip her if he got her home, immersed her in his environment. If he was all she could see.

His eyes raked over her and he said, “Well, they certainly don’t know how to dress you all here.”

She looked down at her loose gown and then flicked her gaze back up to his, looking embarrassed. “I’m sorry…”

She was delectable. Submissive. She already wanted to please him, and she had not been properly introduced to him yet. Tony felt his cock hardening. If only he could take her here and now. But he needed to drive her home. He tried to fight the hormones trying to hijack his psyche.

“No, sweet one, don’t apologize. You still look lovely. You’re so fertile….. look at you. Dripping.”

<><><>

You perked up at the compliment. The multiple compliments. You were doing good. Weren’t you? On many levels. Fertile. And wet.

Wait, wait?

He came closer. Still looking entirely in the brink of losing it but he smelled good. He smelled like home.

And that instantly set you on edge, a clear thought cutting through your arousal.

No.

It was him. The Alpha you had been assigned to. And Jesus. It was Tony fucking Stark. Why else would he have this effect on you? Natasha had promised to speak to you and let you decide as you weaned off the suppressants. She had lied and now you were being thrown to the wolves. And no wonder. Tony was her friend. Why would she deny him anything?

You stood quickly and your back hit the wall. You were closing in on yourself, trying to be small. He bristled at your squirrely movement and cocked his head. He immediately placed himself between you and the door to prevent you leaving, holding up his hand. Your heart was hammering.

He was here. He was here to take you away, lock you away.

“You don’t have to be afraid…” Tony said, his voice rolling over you like a high. It was sugary, sweet. “You are safe with me, sweet one.”

Safe. Yes. He would protect you.

You shook your head, closing your eyes tight, trying to shake his influence. Safe meant under his thumb.

Tony was closing the space quickly and you cowered. He was stronger than you and would undoubtedly win a fight.

“Omega…” he said, the title falling from his lips like a song. You froze and he took a few more steps. He shivered, seeing your response. “Be good. You don’t have to be trapped in here anymore. This room is so small, confining. You can come with me… up to our cabin.” Our, the word usage was not lost on you. “There’s a lake. Space to wander. You will have freedom there. With me.”

Half of you was screaming to listen to him, go to him, obey. The other half was screaming at you to try to duck around him and find an escape to make sure you would not fully come off the suppressants and be his puppet, his breeding machine.

Tony was there, inches between you and your chest pulled towards him, wanting him to touch you. He noticed the movement, hunger swimming in his eyes, pupils blown wide.

“That’s it, Omega. Be good.”

A soft whine left your lips, embarrassingly, at the command to be good.

Yet, another thought flashed. This was not right. And your eyes hardened. His jaw clenched at the sight, and you knew you were in trouble. Before you could react, he brought his hand up, and all you felt was cold metal against your neck before you saw black.

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney  @biiskuitx @buttercupfangirl

[laequiem]

Cheek to Cheek in Hell - Chapter 8

/ SURPRISE BITCH It's a new chapter! 2 in the same week, you're not imagining things. Thanks to the Dick Clique for helping me with some of the ideas in this chapter when I was stuck a few weeks ago 🥺

Fandom: The Folk of the Air

Pairing: Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar

Rating: explicit (this chapter: explicit, for specifics check author's notes on Ao3)

Word count: 2,600

“That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?” she drawls, throwing my words from our first time back at me.

“Jude,” I croak.

A sudden rush of blood goes straight to my dick, my treacherous body remembering how I pleasure myself to this exact scene.

“My absolute submission,” her hands trail up above my knees, “My worship.”

fanfiction masterlist • ao3

Chapter 7 • next chapter • Cheek to Cheek masterpost

Chapter 8. I need it hard

Cardan POV

If I didn’t know any better, I would think I’m still experiencing iron poisoning. After all, this scene inhabits many of my dreams. It would be a good candidate for hallucinations.

Jude peers up at me through dark lashes, her eyes defiant even when I have the high ground.

“That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?” she drawls, throwing my words from our first time back at me.

“Jude,” I croak.

A sudden rush of blood goes straight to my dick, my treacherous body remembering how I pleasure myself to this exact scene.

“My absolute submission,” her hands trail up above my knees, “My worship.”

Her hands dip between my thighs, my body screaming for her to touch me higher, higher, higher. I let out a groan. Jude grins in response, her gaze finally leaving mine to look at my crotch.

I suck in a breath as her cruel fingers trace past my cock, careful not to touch it.

“You have it,” Jude says, removing her hands from me and sitting back on her heels. “What would you have me do?”

Her voice is laced with the slightest hint of mockery, betraying that her submission is nothing but an act.

She is using me for something. It’s baffling how little I care. Our previous trysts taught me that there is little I wouldn’t do to be close to her.

Stop that. Stop acting nice.

Is that what I have been doing? Have I been uncharacteristically nice to her since we left Elfhame?

I try to think of our interactions in Elfhame and compare them to the ones we have had in the last week.

Why are you helping me? She had asked me when we were sleeping in the park.

And I had told the truth. At least, part of it. I did not tell her that, learning what she did, I was scared not only of her, but for her. Because she was right—a mortal killing a faerie is a death sentence at the very least. At the thought, I tried imagining Elfhame without her. I already barely tolerate the place, I don’t know what I would become without her there to ground me. I don’t have Valerian’s sadistic desire to hurt. I don’t have Nicasia’s yearning for power, or Locke’s flair for a good story. My friends leech on me to get what they want and, like a hit of Nevermore, their friendship gives me a lick of the respect I crave.

The other thing providing me a hint of power is cruelty. Power in the form of fear, and a whisper of love at my oldest brother’s harsh hand.

Cruelty is its own curse. People get used to violence, so it escalates. They forget about you unless you up the octave, as there will always be someone crueler than you. Jude’s hatred for me is the only constant in my life, her rage the only thing I know to be permanent. Jude Duarte will never not hate me. Even when she comes on my fingers, she hates me for it, hoping it was anyone’s hand but my own. My name has never crossed her lips as she came, when hers is the only one haunting me.

I reach down to touch her cheek. She automatically looks up and the sight of her kneeling at my feet floods my mind with options, many of them so inappropriate that I would have never acted on them, even at my most intoxicated. But cruelty is what she wants.

I swallow, turning the words in my mouth a few times before I expose my darkest desires for her to mock.

To hell with it.

I grin, gripping her chin and pulling her bottom lip down with my thumb.

“I want you to use this lying mouth to pleasure me,” I tell her.

Her eyes widen and I half expect her to laugh at me for taking the bait. Instead, Jude flicks her tongue over my thumb and I flinch, pulling my hand away in surprise.

“Very well, your Highness,” she says, spitting the title like venom.

Jude’s hands reach for the laces of my pants and pull them down smoothly, freeing my cock.

The air cracks with tension as we stare at each other, waiting for the other to wave a white flag and end this.

We move at the same time. I reach behind her head as she presses her cheek to my organ. Even this small touch makes me inhale sharply and I grab a fistful of her hair. With a flick of my wrist, I wrap a length of her long mane around my fist.

Jude looks away from me and down to my aching length. She absentmindedly licks her lips and my brain goes straight to my cock.

She starts with a shy lick of the crown, her eyes narrowed in focus. Then, she swirls her tongue around it, gazing up to see my reaction. I can’t tear my eyes away from her, the movement of her lips as she parts them to take me ever so slightly in her mouth.

I am ashamed of the rush of power I feel at the sight of her at my feet.

The top two buttons of her shirt—my shirt—are open, giving me a perfect view of her generous breasts. I had never noticed breasts on other partners, as we fae don’t store fat the same way that humans do. To see Jude’s so prominently makes me think of reprehensible things.

And of course she notices. She presses her arms closer to her chest, making her breasts push deliciously together and accentuating the fullness of them. Her tongue flicks my slit, wiping away the drop of precum already leaking, before she pulls away from me.

“You’re blushing,” she tells me. My cheeks heat up even more.

Jude lifts a hand and traces a finger up one breast, following the curve of it. I groan, my cock aching to slip between her breasts until I paint her face white.

I give her hair a quick yank. “Hands behind your back, beautiful.”

She does as she is told and my cock jolts in response.

“Good girl,” I croon, just because I know she will hate it.

She scowls at me and I chuckle. My tail slips behind her back, wrapping around one of her wrists.

“Pull on it if you want me to stop,” I tell her.

This earns me another scowl as she replies defiantly, “I can take it.”

I snort. “We’ll see about that.”

Her little button nose scrunches, but she stays silent.

“Shall we see what this pretty mouth can do?” I say in a drawl. Her throat bobs. “Open.”

A muscle twitches in her jaw, but she parts her lips. My cock pulses at her obedience, though I know it would like her defiance all the same. I bring my free hand to her face, petting a cheek softly before bringing two fingers to her lips. She closes them around my fingers and strokes them with her tongue.

Fuck. I don’t know how I will last more than a couple seconds in her warm mouth.

“Look at you, on your knees for your Prince.”

I push my fingers in deeper, just enough to coat them in saliva, and pull out. A groan escapes me when a trail of drool follows my fingers out of her mouth. I yank her head mere inches from my cock, making her watch as I give myself a few quick strokes and coat myself in her saliva.

Jude lingers closer to my length, her cognac eyes burning with hunger. I rub my length along her soft cheek, then along her lips, the pillowy warmth of them so inviting. Such perfect anguish, to be so close yet so far from what I seek.

“You’re so eager to please your betters, aren’t you, little mortal?” I tease when I sense her move her tongue on me as I slide over her lips.

I shouldn’t bait her like this, I wouldn’t put it past her to bite me.

I’m depraved enough to want her to.

I angle her head so she faces me again and plunge in. I have done this many times, but never have I felt quite as much as I do now. It’s so much more than pleasure. From the moment she let me lap at her all those nights ago, I have been craving her. Her body has always fascinated me with its roundness, full of soft, enticing curves. Then, she let me see more of it. The unkempt curls she hides behind strange mortal underwear, the strong muscles of her stomach and thighs, her swollen lips glistening with juices—I knew then I was doomed.

I pull out and slowly ease in again.

I have been truly haunted by the memories, I don’t know how anyone could ever compare.

I hate it.

She has everything, yet she thrives on taking all I have from me. She tries to take my power away, humiliates me in front of the court, and now she has taken away the only thing I had left: mindless sex with eager lovers.

I hate it.

Jude plays the part of the eager lover well enough, though she clearly has some ulterior motive today. She takes me in her mouth further and further with every thrust, and I can tell I am not the only one making her head move over me.

Nothing about this is mindless, though.

It’s not just about having her submit to me.

She trusts me. I just don’t know if she should. I am kindling, and any attention from her is a spark threatening to ignite me. Like fire, I am unpredictable—I don’t know if I would be able to stop burning, or what I would take down with me.

I stop her movements with a hand on her throat.

“Stay still. Let me use that dirty mouth.”

Obediently, Jude sits up, her back straight. I nudge at her lips with my tip and she opens her mouth again, letting me sheathe myself to the hilt in one smooth motion. She gags once, but blinks hard and steels herself quickly. Fuck, she’s good. There’s no way she hasn’t done this before.

“Heavenly,” I gasp, pulling myself out and slamming in again.

Holding her head steady with both hands, I fuck her mouth as I would her sex. I alternate between ruthless strokes and deep drags, as chaotic as my feelings for her. When I pull out to let her breathe and she glare at me, I want to pull her into my arms. When she doesn’t glare, I want to spank her until she hates me again.

I do none of those things. Instead, I slam into her mouth one last time. Her throat is pure bliss, wrapping my crown in the most decadent heat. I hold her head there, my grip on her hair tighter than ever. Her eyes water, her speckled cheeks redden.

“That’s it,” I purr, “that’s my girl.”

A throaty sound comes out of her as she chokes, rivulets of tears cutting through the red of her face. Her fingers tighten around my tail, but she doesn’t pull. Stubborn thing. I let go of her head and she pulls away, coughing and catching her breath. A delicious trail of drool follow from the tip of my cock to her swollen lips.

“You’re beautiful, drooling on my cock,” I say, bending towards her to wipe off a tear.

“I hate you,” Jude tells me, her voice raspy.

I wish I could tell her I hate her, too.

I hate that I like her so much.

I hate that I see her in my dreams and nightmares both.

I hate that I find her so attractive. Her beauty is not the perfection of faeries or the bright colors of nature. It’s fleeting as a shooting star, unique as an aurora. She is the novelty of a new garment, except it is changed every time you open the wardrobe. Her body is ever evolving, aging every second—she will only look like this for a moment before a cell dies and she is altered. Like droplets on a sunny day coalescing to form a rainbow, her beauty lies in impermanence. She is ephemeral.

I capture her mouth in a quick, messy kiss. My hands automatically go to her waist, then up, up until they rest atop the swell of her breasts. Unable to stop myself, I give one of them a soft squeeze. My moan is silenced by Jude’s tongue.

My fingers dance over the buttons, undoing them efficiently. I pause when I finish, realizing I have yet to see the top half of her naked. I raise my eyes to hers, waiting. As I am about to ask for permission, she nods, an amused smirk on her mouth.

I part the shirt and let my hands follow the swell of her breasts. I shudder, my eyes roaming her naked form and committing every detail to memory. The most skilled sculptor could never do her justice. Painters would go mad trying to translate curves to canvas, to mix the right colors and find the perfect chestnut shade of her nipples.

When Jude clears her throat, I realize I’ve been staring. Heat pricks at my cheeks.

“May I…” I shake my head. You’re in charge, you simpering fool. “I want to come on your breasts.”

She snorts and I have no desire to examine why this makes me even harder.

“Do it, then,” she challenges.

I swallow the knot in my throat, then stand up to my full height again. I take my cock in my hand and give it a hard stroke. My heart pounds wildly as I stroke myself with harsh, punishing strokes. I moan Jude’s name as I erupt, thick spurts surging out and painting her chest with streaks of white.

My legs are shaking and I let myself drop to the floor, knee-to-knee with her. I can’t take my eyes off her—her solid body debased by my seed.

Jude stares back, umber eyes blazing with the flames of her hatred.

Stop acting nice.

My hands itch to touch her. I want to care for her, to help her clean up, but her words haunt me. We are nothing more than begrudging allies, of course she doesn’t want me to be nice to her.

So I grab her jaw, my nails digging slightly in her flushed skin.

“Still think I’m nice?” I taunt her.

“I never thought you were,” she bites back, “it’s an act.”

I tsk. “So quick to talk back. Should I shut your pretty mouth again?”

Jude scowls, and I chuckle.

I wonder: is there a dark God who would take my soul in exchange for the chance to bicker with her for eternity? To deprave her as much as she will let me? I never knew such desire—there is so little I would not do to have her. To have her fight with me. I let go of her jaw. In one movement, I lick a stripe up one breast, tasting the salt of her sweat and that of my spend. I give her a quick kiss, pulling her lips between my teeth as we separate.

I stand up. I dare take her in one last time, her tanned skin covered in sweat and cum, before turning away and walking towards the room.

“Until we spar again, Jude.”

Tag list: @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @thefolkofthefic @figonas @kingandfireheart @godgavemelou @lizziebxnnet @hazelsheartsworn

[acesydneysage]

Sydney's descriptions of Adrian in each book

@vablappreciationweek Favorite ship: Sydrian

In my Demi!Sydney masterpost I mentioned how, in her first description of Adrian, she notices that he's handsome, but describes him in a more detached way, comparing him to a work of art:

The speaker was a Moroi guy, a little older than me, with dark brown hair that had undoubtedly been painstakingly styled to look messy. Unlike Keith's ridiculously over-gelled attempts, this guy had actually done it in a way that looked good. Like all Moroi he was pale, and had a tall lean build. Emerald green eyes studied us from a face that could have been sculpted by one of the classical artists I so admired. Shocked, I dismissed the comparison as soon as it popped into my head. This was a vampire, after all. It was ridiculous to admire him the way I would some hot human guy.

Now compare that to her description of him in The Golden Lily, after they already have some emotional attachment:

His sarcasm aside, he looked supremely delighted to see us. He had the tall, lean build that most Moroi guys did, along with their typically pale (though not Strigoi-pale) skin. I hated to admit it, but he was more good-looking than he had any right to be. He wore his dark brown hair stylishly messy and had eyes that sometimes seemed too green to be real. Adrian had on one of those button-up printed shirts that were trendy with guys lately, with a blue pattern on it I liked. He smelled like he’d been smoking recently, which I didn’t like.

It's less dramatic, but much more involved, in my opinion. This got me thinking about the topic, and this is now a compilation of Sydney's first full description of Adrian in each book. It gets adorable and it gets sad.

In the plane in The Indigo Spell, when she's absolutely not halfway in love with him already, no sir:

I was watching the attendant fasten an oxygen mask when a familiar and intoxicating scent washed over me. [...] I kept sneaking glances out of the corner of my eye, partly to see if he was looking at me and partly just to study his features. He was the same Adrian as ever, annoyingly good looking with his tousled brown hair and sculpted face. I vowed I wouldn’t speak to him, but when I noticed he hadn’t written anything in a while and was tapping his pen loudly on the tray, I couldn’t help myself.

Don't you sneak admiring glances at your friends?

In The Fiery Heart Sydney is in full hormonal teen mode, unable to focus on the meeting where she's about to join a witch coven because she's distracted thinking about making out with her vampire boyfriend (look how far my baby has come):

After a lifetime of praising myself for stoically adhering to mind over matter, I was kind of astonished that someon as cerebral as me would take to physical activity as quickly as I had. Sometimes I tried to rationalize it as a natural animal response. But really, I just had to face the truth. My boyfriend was insanely sexy, vampire or not, and I couldn't keep my hands off him.

In Silver Shadows, on the other hand, actual physical descriptions are set aside in favor of ripping my heart out of my chest. First looking at a picture:

I had no idea where she’d gotten the picture, and I didn’t care. My heart leapt as I looked into their smiling faces, faces I loved and had missed so terribly. I’d imagined their faces countless times, but there was no substituting the actual image. I took in every detail: the way the light played off Adrian’s hair, the way Jill’s lips curved in a shy smile. I had to swallow back a wave of emotion welling up within me. Maybe Sheridan had meant to punish me by showing them, but it actually came off as more of a reward—until she spoke again.

Then when she actually sees him in person:

They fell out of my line of sight, and suddenly, my vision was filled with the most beautiful image I could have hoped for: Adrian. For a few seconds, that doubt plagued me again, that this was just one more deception on the Alchemists’ part. But no, there he was before me. Adrian. My Adrian, gazing down with those piercing green eyes. I felt an ache in my chest as emotion momentarily overcame me. Adrian. Adrian was here, and I fumbled to find something to say, some way to convey all the love and hope and fear that had built within me these last few months. “Are you in a suit?” I managed at last, my voice choking up. “You didn’t have to dress up for me.” “Quiet, Sage,” he said. “I’ll make the hilarious one-liners during this daring rescue.” His eyes, warm and full of love, held mine for a moment, and I thought I would melt.

The Ruby Circle is still kind of sad, since Adrian got hate crimed, but it's a sweet ending to this compilation:

There was nothing more I could say as I helped wipe blood and dirt from Adrian’s face with a damp cloth, brushing aside wayward pieces of chestnut hair. He gave me his devil-may-care smile and still managed to look dashing, despite his bedraggled state. [...] Looking at Adrian now, I felt a surge of love well up within me, despite our earlier tension. I could no longer imagine a life without him in it. It was impossible.

We start with cute for an evil creature of the night and end with I can't imagine my life without him.

I think the compilation turned out to be a nice little map of their relationship, so here's this quick thing I made, because I got caught up in the day 2 prompt and didn't prepare properly for the rest of the week. TBF my favorite character, ship and platonic relationship were on that fic.

[companion-showdown]

Who is the best character to get intoxicated with?

ROUND 0 MASTERPOST