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orinfucker · 8 months

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bite me

summary: astarion decides he should reward you for being such a generous thing to him these last few weeks, and who are you to decline?

warnings: fem!reader, very little plot, slight degradation, praise, dom!astarion, dumbification, vampire biting, blood, begging, slight breath play, fingering, reader has a small hand kink, astarion is a tease, aftercare, fluff at the end

note: i haven’t written anything in months so i apologize in advance if this isn’t that good <\3 anyways i love this sad vampire man more than most things rn

“ah, hello my dear.” a certain pale elf spoke, sauntering towards your spot near the crackling fire. you smiled soft, offering him a nod to sit besides you. the air was cold this night - shivers ran along your spine as the breeze drifted throughout the woods surrounding camp. “i can’t believe how cold it’s gotten already, my bedroll barely keeps me warm enough these days.” you begrudgingly said, rubbing the flesh of your palms up and down the exposed skin of your arms.

astarion chuckled at your annoyance, amused at how the smallest changes caused your emotions to flutter. “well darling, you could always come to me if your looking for some warmth.” a rush of pink flooded your cheeks at his remark; you were used to his flirting, but it still never failed to get a reaction out of you. “plus i’ve been meaning to, well, express my thanks to you.” you looked up towards the vampire, a confused expression cast upon your face. “what would you need to be thanking me for exactly?”

he grinned slyly before leaning down to grab your chin between his cold fingers, lifting your head slightly so your eyes connected with his piercing red ones. “for offering me that delicious blood of yours, my sweet. i’d be but a pathetic man if not for your generosity.” a jolt ran through your body at his words, and your thighs tried their best to not clench as he licked his lips at the sight of your exposed neck.

“and.. and how exactly would you be expressing your thanks towards me for that?” you meekly replied. astarion stifled a laugh at your whispered tone, he always knew you were easily flustered by his words. “with sex, darling. unless you’re not interested? though i think we both know that’d be a lie.” just his words were enough to get you riled up - pathetic, you thought. there was no point in denying his claims either, he already knew what you desired from him. a shaky breath left your mouth before you finally replied, “please.”

astarion smirked, “already begging.. have you craved me that badly, pet?” your head nodded instantly, lust clouding over your eyes as the man in front of you assisted you to your feet. “let’s head to my tent then, hm? i wouldn’t want to keep my needy pup waiting.” the elf led you towards his tent, one of his hands supporting your lower back as you bent down to shimmy past the opening.

astarion was quick to push you onto the ground, crawling over your quivering body before finally hovering right above your plump lips. your arms wrapped themselves around his neck as his right hand snuck up to cup your cheek. “you’re beautiful, my dear.” his voice sounded soft, causing a low whine to escape from you. his lips grazed your own for just a moment before moving to leave small pecks along the sides of your jaw, the feeling of his fangs nipping your skin every so often.

“astarion, please.” you whined, craving the touch of the vampire currently sprawled on top of you. “patience, darling. you’ll have me soon enough.” a slight roll of your eyes caught the elf’s attention, his eyebrow twitching at your apparent attitude. “oh? do you intend on being a brat?” he questioned with a tilt of his head, the hand once on your cheek now trailing to apply pressure to your neck. the breath in your throat hitched as nervous eyes met cold, red ones - a sense of submission washing over your mind as you began to shake your head in response. astarion hummed, satisfied with your answer - “good girl.”

the pressure on your throat lessened as his hand trailed down your front before finally resting right above the heat of your cunt. your hips moved on their own as they rolled into the palm of his hand, releasing a groan from the depths of your throat. “such a needy thing, aren’t you?” astarion’s hand began to slowly rub against your clothed cunt, enticing moan after moan to leave your lips as his ministrations continued. “hah - fuck!” your teeth dug into the flesh of your lips, the smallest drop of blood leaking from them in response. the vampire immediately leaned down towards your lips, enveloping them in a sloppy kiss - his tongue swiping away the blood once on them.

“astarion,” you whispered out, catching the attention of the vampire atop of you. “yes darling?” the movement of his hand stopped, now cupping the warmth of your pussy within it. “bite me.” astarion’s expression darkened as a low growl erupted from his throat, his free hand now grazing the side of your waist. “you drive me mad, pet.” you felt his hot breath upon your neck, sending shivers throughout the course of your body. the points of his teeth grazed the flesh, seemingly teasing you before finally breaking the surface.

astarion moaned as your blood filled his system, becoming lost in the pleasure of your neck. your body arched into his own, whimpers slipping past your lips as black dots began to cloud your vision. “a..astarion-!” his senses came back to him as he delicately removed his fangs from your skin, watching as the two holes oozed with red. before you could say a word, you felt the swipe of his tongue across the wound, cleaning the excess blood off. you contained a whine from coming out as he began to leave small kisses along the now bloodstained area of your flesh.

“you are insatiable, love.” you giggled before enveloping his bloodied lips once again, a more passionate sensation washing over your body. a shocked moan escaped you as the feeling of his hand slipping past your small clothes disrupted your thoughts, the cold of his fingers grazing the mound atop your cunt. “so wet for me, aren’t you?” you could barley think as his digits swirled your clit, one dipping down to tease your entrance. “stop - fuck, teasing me!” a hearty laugh left the elf, amused by your whines of disapproval. “so impatient, whatever will i do with you?”

finally you felt two of his fingers dive into you, a relieved sigh escaping your lips at the feeling. he started with slow, precise thrusts, the curl of his digits sending stars to your mind. he slowly worked the insides of your cunt, your walls fluttering against the length of his fingers. when you felt a third digit enter, your entire body shook with pleasure; a response only he could entice from you. “gods,” your mind felt like it was melting with every flick of his hand, and you could already feel an orgasm brewing within.

astarion observed the way your face contorted with pleasure, how your teeth dug into the flesh of your cheek and your eyes rolled into the back of your skull. he watched as your body jerked when his fingers reached the deepest parts of you, whines slipping into his ears while your hand shakily came down to wrap around his own. “i, i’m gonna cum-!” he smirked for a moment before increasing the speed of his movements, now ramming his digits in and out of your sopping hole. a bubbling feeling appeared in the depths of your stomach, and you knew it would be moments before you finally were sent over the edge.

astarion noticed the way your thighs closed around his wrist, and how the walls of cunt squeezed against his fingers in desperation. “what a naughty pet i have, hm?” he started, watching your face turn even more flushed then it already was. mantras of please, please, please were all you could muster out, looking into the vampire’s eyes with pleading ones. “go on, cum for me.” you felt your vision go white, a wave of numbness washed over your body before a feeling of relief replaced it. astarion groaned as he felt your cunt spasm with each thrust of his fingers, his jaw clenching with the sight of cum leaking from your hole.

your mind felt blank, every thought in your head vanished from the aftershocks of your orgasm. astarion slowly removed his fingers from your pussy, watching as your hole clenched around nothing from the loss. “how are you feeling, love?” the elf asked, his voice softening as he watched your face melt into a dopey smile. all you did was hum in response, your head still miles away from the current moment. “we can stop here if you’re overwhelmed, pet; i’m sure we’ll have many more opportunities to continue.” you nodded your head just as a yawn managed to slip from your throat, making the vampire smile before standing up to search for a rag.

your eyes followed his every movement, mesmerized by the beauty of the man stood in front of you. astarion glanced towards you, catching your wandering eyes focused on him. “what’s on your mind, my sweet?” he questioned, kneeling back down to wipe off the liquids that coated your thighs. “just looking at you, that’s all.” you mumbled out, hissing lightly as the rag grazed your sensitive cunt. astarion let out a quick apology before the cloth away, throwing it into some lost corner of his tent. “well, you should probably head back to your bedroll love.” a hum left you in response, yet there was no attempt from you to leave his tent. astarion could see the gears turning behind your eyes, immediately knowing there was more that you wanted to say.

“what is it? i can see there’s something you want to ask.” you hesitated for a moment before finally speaking, “could i, maybe, stay here for the night?” astarion seemed taken aback at your question, not used to someone wanting to stay with him willingly. “well, i don’t see why not.” your face lit up at his response, but you quickly calmed yourself down. a quiet thank you left your lips as you watched the vampire crawl towards the space next you, relaxing himself onto the ground before sneaking an arm around your side. your body melted into his own, a sense of comfort consuming your mind as exhaustion took over you. “goodnight, astarion.” the vampire hummed, leaning over to leave a kiss on the top of your forehead. “goodnight my love.”

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate 3 astarion #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion my beloved #astarion smut

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wilteddreamsofbaldursgate · 1 month

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Daybreak Ballads

NSFW || Astarion x fem!bard!Tav/reader || ao3 || masterlist

Rating: E, +18 Word Count: +3.5k Warnings: Smut. Orgasm delay. Soft dom!Astarion. Oral+fingering (fem!receiving). PiV sex. Praise kink?

And yet, Astarion did have an undeniably keen eye for beauty and dramatics alike. If he only put a little more of himself into his work, you were convinced people would adore his poetry. He only had to find his intended audience because one thing was clear: as much as you loved Astarion, his poetry simply wasn’t for you. At all.

a/n: This has been in the works for ages and when I wasn't pulling out my own hair over this, it was quite fun to write, I suppose. Special thanks to @tragedybunny , @bardic-inspo and @littlejuicebox for emotional support. The masterful poem at the end has been handmade for Gina. With love. By the pale elf himself.

You’d never said you disliked Astarion’s poetry, let alone that it was bad. When the pale elf had asked for your expert opinion on his poetic endeavours, you’d just assumed it was honesty he’d wanted. So honesty was what you’d given him.

The form of his poem looked messy, unappealing even; its rhythm was off, contorted by wordy lines that lacked any pleasant flow. Astarion’s motifs were obvious at best and trite at worst, and his rhymes were, well, creative, you supposed. But most of all, Astarion’s pieces left wanting for personality. Where was his wit? His snark? His passion? Where was all the fun?

Try as you might, you just couldn’t see yourself performing Astarion’s ballad—at least that’s what you assumed he’d attempted to write—for your regular audience, not with your flute nor your lyre. It just felt wrong to translate his words into song, forced. You didn’t even need to take a closer look to recognize his work as haphazard, dull, and, worst of all, inauthentic.

To your surprise, Astarion had taken your admittedly harsh review of his work with uncharacteristic grace—suspiciously so, in hindsight, at least. After all, the vampire could be quite…sensitive. That night, though, he’d just nodded along to your blunt words, an almost arrogant smirk tugging at his lips, promising you to compose a piece to your liking one day.

Just for you, Astarion had said with a wink as he’d retrieved his poetry from your hands, the dying campfire reflecting in the ink of his elegant handwriting. Crimson eyes sparkling with mischief as they’d wandered over your body. His tongue had slowly wet his sensuous lips as if in anticipation of...what?

Just wait and see, darling…

If your brain hadn’t been all clouded by lust earlier tonight, you would’ve noticed that Astarion had been up to something. He’d been throwing you suggestive looks all evening, purring sweet nothings in your ear whenever he’d gotten you alone. Surprised you in your tent when your companions had been sound asleep, the campfire burned low. His hand had practically been glued to the small of your back as he’d guided you to a most charming little clearing, not unlike the one in which you’d first slept with him all those weeks ago.

That Astarion had kept calling this idyllic, moonlit spot his perfect motif had somehow eluded you as you’d been too preoccupied with the telltale heat gathering between your legs. In fact, you’d followed the vampire like an eager little pup, already wound tight around his little finger. The promise of Astarion’s inviting touches and lingering kisses had lured you right into his honey trap—and how bittersweet it was.

Now, shivering from painfully drawn-out desire and cold morning dew settling on your skin, you could feel that cursed smirk brush against your dripping wet core again—a silent warning.

Oh, fuck.

Astarion’s lips closed around your almost painfully swollen clit, sucking at it leisurely as his lower arm pinned your hips against the cold earth as if you were but a sheet of paper threatening to take flight with the next gust of wind. Another gasp echoed from the trees as your left hand clawed at the damp grass underneath you, looking for support but finding little. Your other hand grasped at silver curls with as much success.

Astarion was rather enjoying himself as your body squirmed under his sinful mouth, his fingertips digging into the flesh of your thigh as he adjusted your trembling leg over his shoulder, opening you up even more for his thorough ministrations. You tossed your head back at the gentle but intoxicating shift of position. His name was stuck in the back of your throat, suffocated by shaky moans as the tip of his tongue brought you ever closer to the edge of release.

Feeling the coil in your lower belly tighten, your toes curled against the raised scar tissue on Astarion’s back, eliciting but an amused sigh from him before his lips released your wanting nub with one last lingering caress of his tongue.

You wanted to cry; this was the second time he’d left you hanging somewhere between bliss and frustration.

Shaking from pent-up pleasure, your elbow threatened to slip on the wet grass as you sat up as much as the weight of Astarion’s arm allowed. Through the evaporating clouds of your laboured breath you only just caught a glimpse of Astarion’s crimson eyes gazing up at you from between your thighs; he was all messy curls and unfairly thick eyelashes. Smug smirks turned wicked.

You swallowed.

“Astarion…” you breathed, not knowing if it was a warning or plea, but before the syllables had faded into the fleeting night, his attention had returned to your cunt once more. The tip of Astarion’s nose grazed your clit. You could feel his cold breath against your burning folds, feeling no different than the gentle breeze of dawn tickling your exposed skin. There was no gentle sensation snaking up your spine when Astarion licked down your slit ever so slowly, and for the first time that night, you truly registered how far you really were from camp. You let out a blissful cry, knowing there was not a soul to hear you but the elf feasting on your cunt.

The weight from Astarion’s arm shifted from your hips down your side. His hand wandered along your curves, groping the swell of your ass before it wound itself back up your inner thigh. He pushed your legs further apart, opening you up impossibly wide. You let out an excited squeal you would be embarrassed for by morning, but not now, no. For the better part of the night, you’d been a whining, trembling mess under your lover—always painfully close to release and yet no part of Astarion had filled you as of yet. But maybe he’d had enough now. Maybe he would finally deign to push you over the edge, with his fingers or his cock, you didn’t really care anymore as long as he finally let you come undone.

And, indeed, Astarion’s fingers inched closer to your core, though all they did was trace the course of your pulsing femoral artery he could no doubt sense underneath your heated skin. You relaxed a little under his sweet little caresses and wondered dully if he would soon exchange the fruits of your cunt for proper nourishment.

He didn’t. At least not yet.

Without warning, the tip of Astarion’s tongue teased your entrance, driving you wild. Your hips instantly bucked against Astarion’s face as your hand clenched around a fistful of his soft hair. Finally! This was divine, this was—

Astarion withdrew from you in an instant, ignoring the undignified whine of protest escaping your lips—fuck, you’d been so close! By the self-satisfied look on his face, though, he was well aware of that. For a moment, he studied the heavy rise and fall of your flushed chest, his chin resting right below your navel as you lay beneath him, dumbstruck. His pointer finger still ghosted up and down the inside of your leg, the lazy movement a stark contrast to the blood racing through your veins.

“Oh, darling, look what you’ve done…” Astarion pouted, his sensuous lips moist with your arousal. “You’ve ruined my rhythm.”

His fingers slowly wandered down, down, down your leg and curled around your ankle before he gently let it glide off his shoulder. With an outrageous nonchalance, he sat back on his knees and considered you. Crimson eyes darted over your feverish skin that glistened with sweat and morning dew. They trailed from your parted lips down your collarbone, through the valley of your breast, until they beheld the mess between your legs with blatant amusement. How you wanted to wipe the stupid smirk off his face; how you wanted him to finally take you.

Behind Astarion’s broad shoulders, you could see the sunrise in the distance; a gentle purple bled into the indigo of night right above the treeline. Day would break soon, but you didn’t have it in you to appreciate twilight when, suddenly, Astarion’s arms came down on each side of your head, eclipsing the waking world around you.

His hips settled against your core as he crawled atop you, habitually making you arch your back against his own growing desire pressing into your belly.

“But don’t you worry,” Astarion purred, clearly delighted as he lowered himself onto you until the silken tip of his nose brushed against yours. “Your body is a well of inspiration to me, my little muse…”

Astarion closed the small distance between you with a heady kiss; your mind went blank as you tasted yourself on his lips, the warmed tongue demanding access to you once more. You opened your mouth to him readily, moaned into the kiss as Astarion’s hands wandered up and down the curves of your body. Your head spun. Nobody—nothing—else could ever make you feel like this, and you cursed yourself when you had to break away from him to fill your inconvenient lungs with air.

Spit and slick weaved like cobwebs between your parted lips as you beheld Astarion with dazed eyes, breathing hard.

He was perfect.

From the fading light of the moon reflecting in his serene locks to his kiss-swollen lips that were a sharp instrument of the sweetest temptation. That smirk that promised unforgettable ecstasy, granting it only whenever he wanted. There was no song nor poem you could compose that could ever do Astarion justice, no instrument to capture the intricacies of his soul. He was a masterpiece.

Drunk on his lips, you leaned forward as his fingers continued to run down your middle, along the curve of your ass before taking hold of your thigh again. Your tired legs twitched to wind around Astarion’s hips, wanting to pull him closer to where you needed him most.

But before you could even move an inch, you found yourself lying flat on your stomach.

Astarion’s arm wound around your waist from behind, roughly pulling your ass up against his lean middle before you could so much as gasp in surprise. Wet grass tickled your cheek as you tried to find your balance, take a puzzled look back at him, but you could only feel him bend over you again, his erection poking your lower back.

Astarion’s kiss-warmed lips ghosted over your ear, “Now that you’re in proper form, let’s write some poetry, shall we?”

What?

He tossed your messy braid over your shoulder, pressed a wet kiss to the exposed nape of your neck as your knees struggled for support on slippery morning dew.

“You’ll sing some more for me, won’t you, little songstress?” Astarion breathed against your spine. “I’m sure you’ll make a real show of my newest piece.”

It took you a moment to process his words. Maybe it was the pebble cutting into the palm of your hand or the day’s first birdsong reaching your ear that lifted the fog in your head, but it finally hit you.

Astarion hadn’t brought you here for a tryst in the dirt, no. You were here because he was writing poetry. Except, this time, you weren’t his critic, but his choice medium. Which could only mean one thing: He rather had taken your criticism of his artistic endeavours to heart, and now you would have to pay the price for your honesty.

“Astarion…” you breathed, quick words of appeasement lost in a moan as he started to grind against you. Suddenly, daybreak felt like an eternity away.

“Yes, darling?” He asked, the perverse amusement evident in his voice. “How do you like my work so far? Is it to your refined taste this time?”

Curse the damn elf. You knew what he wanted, what he’d craved all along. What he’d expected from you the moment he’d shared his work with you. And as if you weren’t in a most precarious position already, he really wanted you to say it—praise him and his stupid poetry when he knew how badly your body was aching for him.

Clenching your teeth, you slowly rolled your hips up against his now rock-hard cock. Maybe, if you just got him to fuck you already, you would get away with your pride intact. All of this was embarrassing enough as it was.

Your efforts were repaid with little more than a chuckle, though—and two fingers that started teasing your entrance, carefully dipping into you without even slightly dampening your need.

“Fuck!” You whined into the grass as your hips chased Astarion’s digits, wishing they were his cock instead, filling you as you’d so lusted after all night long.

“What was that?”

Astarion’s movement stopped at once, leaving you empty once again.

“It’s good,” you hissed against the wet ground as tears of frustration threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes. “Your poetry—Astarion, it’s so good, I swear.”

So much for pride.

“Oh, you think so, little nightingale?”

You nodded frantically as he bent over you again, nibbling at the shell of your sensitive pointy ear. Astarion chuckled.

“Don’t get me wrong, this means so much coming from an expert artist such as yourself, darling, but I can’t help but wonder whether this is a professional opinion or empty flattery for the sake of indulgence…”

You could feel his fingers ghost over your clit, knowing he would never touch you without a satisfying answer.

“It’s true—nobody does it quite like you,” you cried, not bothering to specify whether you meant his poetry or his more distinctive talents, and it didn’t really matter.

Throughout your career, you’d gone looking for inspiration in quite a few beds but never had you written better poetry than in your rather short time together with the pale elf. Astarion was unlike any lover you’d ever taken, nor had you ever cared this deeply for another person whatsoever.

“Nothing compares to you, Astarion,” you whispered, truthfully.

“Ah,” Astarion’s fingers slid back into you the moment the words had left your mouth, curling deliciously against your walls—a reward for your generous recognition of his talents, no question. “But I’m sure there’s room for improvement still?”

Hips moving up against his digits, chasing the sweet friction of his cold skin, you groaned. Fine. If he wanted a damn lesson in poetry, he could have one.

“There always is. What’s the point of art when there’s no growth—ah!”

There was a lewd sound as Astarion pulled his fingers from your core once again, though this time you could feel his body shift behind you. The two fingers that had worked you open so well now gently parted your folds. You let out a low moan as you could finally feel the wet tip of Astarion’s cock teasing your throbbing clit, though it was his lips brushing the back of your neck that really made you shiver.

“So what would you have me do, little nightingale? Would you have me put more of myself into my work, again?”

“Yes, gods, please,” you mewled, dragging the syllables out just like you knew he enjoyed. “Put as much of yourself in as you can.”

Astarion tried and failed to cover his quickening breath up with a sharp laugh, finally giving away the strain on his own composure. “Well, you are the expert, aren’t you?”

The iron grip on your hip was the only thing keeping you from toppling over as Astarion buried himself inside you with one forceful thrust. The entirety of his impressive length stretched you painfully wide, and he only granted you one moment to adjust to the feeling of complete, blissful fullness before he pulled out of you again. Grunting, he repeated the movement, faster each time. His deep groans soon turned into a perfect rhyme to your breathless moans as he fucked you franticly.

“Like my poetry now, darling?” He hissed, slamming into you over and over again as your hand found Astarion’s in the dewy grass.

Your fingers wound around his wrist, up his lower arm, grasping for support. Couldn’t he see, feel, hear how much you adored his poetry?

“You’re an artist,” you panted through open-mouthed gasps, your entire body singing him the song of your desire, though you really doubted that he paid it much mind.

Astarion had buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent greedily. His tongue traced the curve of your collarbone; you could feel his fangs scrape against your tender skin every now and then. He was a fast learner, you noted, dully—Astarion was already losing himself in his passionate work.

“Have I found my intended audience yet?” He muttered, more to himself than to you, as his knee hooked under your leg, pushing it up until you lay almost flat on the ground.

“What do you want me to do, darling? Write down how divine your cunt is? Have everybody know what sinful music you make when I fuck you?” Astarion let out a choked laugh. “Fuck that! I don’t need an audience, because they only need to take one look at you and recognize you as a work of mine.”

He wasn’t wrong. You would be deliciously sore when you returned to camp with the scent of your lover lingering on your skin like ink on thick paper. He was already written all over you; you were his creation. Who else could coax such magnificent sounds out of you but him? And who were you, really, to teach him about poetry when all you had to do was offer your body to him? You hadn’t lied when you said Astarion was an artist.

Your fingernails left little half-moons on his pale arm as he fucked you half senseless. You could feel yourself dissolve deeper into pleasure with every relentless snap of his hips, knowing that this was when Astarion was most himself—buried deep inside you, chasing his own ideas and desires. Enjoying himself. Writing poetry.

You came fast and hard. Astarion gasped as your cunt clenched violently around him, his movement growing increasingly erratic. He breathed incoherent strings of pretty words into your ear, pulled your hips down on his cock with so much urgency it left you reeling far beyond your orgasm. He was close, too. His rhythm faltered as he slipped into a frenzy, cock twitching inside you as he lost himself in his poetry—in you.

You brought your arm behind you to find Astaron’s sweat-drenched face, cupping his cheek. He groaned as he leaned into your touch.

“You’re so talented, Astarion,” you said. “Fill me with all you have.”

That was all it took. With one last grunt, Astarion spilled himself inside you. He continued rolling his hips into you for another moment, his pace slowing before he collapsed on top of you.

You let the familiar weight of your lover ground you, enjoyed the way his hands wound under you to caress your stomach, your breasts. Astarion pressed a kiss to the crown of your head before gently withdrawing from you. His seed gushed out of you, leaving his signature on the insides of your legs.

“You really think I have a thing for poetry?” Astarion asked, sheepishly, as he rolled to his side, pulling you with him to rest against his lean chest. “Or does my talent only reach as far as your pleasure?”

The sun had finally risen over the treeline, melting the morning dew from your skin. Drawing lazy circles across his chest, you considered Astarion’s question.

“Talent means nothing without practice.”

He hummed, clearly pleased with your answer. “Care to practise with me, then?”

“Your poetry or my pleasure?” You asked, looking up to search his face.

Eyes closed to the sun above you, Astarion smiled. “It’s all the same with you, isn’t it, little songstress?”

The pale elf pressed another kiss to your temple, pulled you even closer to him as you chuckled at his words.

“I would be quite honoured, Astarion.”

The page had been ripped from your journal. It rested neatly folded in half next to your bedroll, elegant handwriting bleeding through the paper. Bards weren’t morning people—it just came with the job. Though, even as sore and sleepy as you felt, you would’ve never missed the note waiting for you to be found upon waking with the sun. You’d been expecting it, after all. With uncoordinated hands, you unfolded the piece of paper.

“Getting drunk on your

Sweet morning dew, nightingale.

Fucking you—such bliss.”

—A.

You scoffed at the poem in your hands, carefully folding it again before you reached for a small box filled with similar pieces of paper. You added the poem to the growing collection. There was no talent without practice, and Astarion and you had only just begun.

tag list:

@spacebarbarianweird @bardic-inspo @kawaiiusagichansan @darlingxdragon @herautumnmorningelegance @ayselluna @chonkercatto

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion bg3 #astarion smut #astarion x female reader #astarion x f!tav #astarion x you #astarion x f!reader #astarion x female tav #astarion fanfic #bard tav #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 smut #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #emicha writes #wilteddreamsbg3

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twopoppies · 5 months

Note

Are the any new fics (within the last couple months) that are good? I’m in a reading drought and I feel like I’ve read every Larry fic there is :( I got so desperate I even thought about looking into f/m fics..

NOOOOO NOT THE HET FICS. DON’T DO IT. 😆

I think I’m just going to use your ask to post my year-end favorite fics. Hope you don’t mind.

It’s been a tough year for me, and I haven’t gotten to read a ton, but these are all excellent.

Secrets, Santa? By @indiaalphawhiskey (E, 19K) disaster gay Harry in all his bumbling, endearing glory still manages to make his incredibly hot boss (Louis) fall for him. This one has snappy dialogue, great internal monologue, and scorching smut. I’d expect nothing less from this author.

your lips in the low light by etherealbliss / @givesuethemoon (E, 21K) It’s been a long time since I read a Larry Uni AU, and this one checked all the boxes. This author managed to really capture the immaturity and obsessive emotions of university age lovers arguing and breaking up, and making each other jealous, and fucking and fighting some more, and ultimately making up. Harry is bratty and sensitive and Louis is dense and long-suffering and they’re perfect for each other.

Scorpions et Madragores by Stria / @nooradeservedbetter (E, 23K) Read the tags and author’s note on this one because there are some themes that could be triggering. This is a dark fic and Harry is a pretty creepy vampire, but the story is very well told and there’s a happy ending.

2 a.m. texts by everysingleday / @sun-lt (T, 30K) This was very sweet and very funny and had just enough sexiness (although I wouldn’t have minded more. LOL!) Link is to a download.

The Doppel Effect by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright (T, 6K) the concept for this fic was so original and a really compelling read, I can’t help but hope the author gets inspired to continue this ‘verse.

Danger I Can’t Hide by CelticSky (E, 227K) This one’s got all the tension and drama you’d expect of a World War II story—life and death high stakes, friends and lovers unexpectedly torn apart, battles and heroism, plus the added stakes of classism and homophobia—then add a slow burn, high risk, scorching love affair spanning years. If you want a story that’s complex and fantastically researched, plus lovers to root for, read it. It’s long. But I couldn’t put it down. When I finally did, I picked it right back up and read it twice more. It’s that good.

one conversation by fondleeds (NR, 1K) This really is just a couple of scenes, and the story is open-ended, but, if for no other reason, read it for the beautiful way the sentences flow. My notes on every fic of theirs begin with: “I wish I could write like this.”

Night Shift by banaanipoika (E, 9K) This was incredibly sexy and beautifully written. I loved that there was such a unique setting with so much descriptive language making me feel like I could smell and feel everything in that hospital room.

On The Pull by @homosociallyyours (E, 4K) Short, but really sexy and just the right amount of bittersweet and hopeful. Loved the characterizations and the smooth writing. So few people write canon Larry these days so this was a nice change of pace.

Devil in my brain, whispering my name by @lunarheslwt (E, 9K) i i thought this author struck a great balance between the dirtiness of a demon defiling an angel and the way the angel gave in to his desire to be defiled. Super sexy.

pull you closer (kiss me harder) by @sunshineandthemoonlight (E, 6K) This was absolutely beautiful — just the perfect amount of tension and wistfulness to make me tear up. But then it was sexy and full of hope at the end. I loved how Louis supported Harry and gave him exactly what he needed (and really, H gave Louis what he needed, too).

#my fic rec #Favorite fics 2023 #Larry fic rec

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kiiwiigii · 9 months

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Abandoned

Demetri x Fem!Reader

Summary: Going to Italy over spring break was not what you had in mind, but Bella said she needed you. Until she didn't anymore, leaving you in the hands of a handsome vampire, who happens to be your mate.

Warnings:

Angst

Bella and the Cullens suck. (Ha ha. I'm so funny.)

Word Count: 1500+

Requested?: Yes!

heya thanks for answering my earlier ask about requests! Could I please request a demetri x reader angsty with fluff where they meet in new moon as reader tags along with bella to help and demtri is drawn to her cause theyre mates and volturi agree to let bella go and be turned later if the reader stays and reader is hurt that edward, bella and even alice agree to it so quickly so she feels abandoned and demetri works to earn her trust and comforts her about it at a later date? (If its too much or you end up tweaking it thats okay!!) <3

A/N: What kind of Volturi fic writer would I didn't do this trope? And for once it's not Alec-centric. I love it! Also, this is gonna be a two-parter.

I hated flying with a burning passion. But Bella insisted that I go with her for emotional support. I almost snapped at her to take Jacob instead. Emotional support animals were free after all. She just needed the paperwork.

Unfortunately, I don't think a big-ass werewolf-slash-shapeshifter would go over well if they were to accidentally transform. Bella was lucky that I even had a passport. In the end, it was Alice who convinced me, definitely playing the loyalty card pretty heavily. If only I had known that loyalty was not extended to me.

Italy was beautiful, but between the sweet relief of landing, Alice stealing a car, and getting caught up in the whirlwind that was the St. Marcus festival, I had barely any time to take it all in. The city was awash with hundreds of people, their red cloaks swirling about as they danced and celebrated.

Bella was diving out the car, screaming Edward's name. I dove into the crowds to follow her, making my way through the throngs of red cloaks to find her. It didn't take long before I was hopelessly lost. What had Alice said? Edward was going to reveal himself. What exactly would happen if he did? That was one thing I had never managed to get out of Bella.

Would he just… spontaneously combust?

No. That made no sense, he never would have come to the Volturi for death if that happened.

But where was the best place to do it?

I looked around desperately before my eyes landed on the clock tower in the center of the square. There. That was the prefect place. I pushed through the crowds, yelling Bella's name at the top of my lungs.

Demetri

"BELLA!"

He turned at the sound, and his dead heart seemed to beat for just a moment. Her voice sounded like heaven. Demetri scanned the square, eyes searching, desperate with hope that maybe, just maybe, she might be who he thought she was.

"Bella!'

It was closer this time, and through a break in the crowds he saw her. Time seemed to slow down as he took in the sight of her. She was by the clock tower, her chest rising and falling with the effort to breathe, as if she had just run a long distance. And given the beads of sweat along her brow and the trickles that dripped down her tantalizing neck, she had.

She was stunning. Beautiful. And more than everything that he had ever hoped for.

The other girl in front of him, Bella, turned around in both alarm and relief.

"Bella," Edward said softly. "Relax. He won't harm her."

"Demetri?" Felix asked, voice heavy with confusion.

"Stay with our… guests, Felix."

Demetri was next to the girl in the blink of an eye, stepping into her line of sight a moment later. She jerked back in alarm before making eye contact with him. And it happened. His whole world seemed to turn upside down. He grinned. She was his.

"Hello, principessa." He lifted her warm hands to his cold lips, enjoying the subtle taste of her skin. "I am Demetri. I will escort you to your friends. If you will follow me."

She raised a disbelieving brow at him, taking him in before landing on his eyes. She gulped a little and nodded her head. He held out his arm for her to take, and after a moments hesitation, she did so.

Upon arriving at the alleyway in which the others stood, his mate let go and hugged Bella tightly.

"You're alright." She breathed, her perfect voice hushed.

"I'm alright, Y/N."

"Good to have you back." It was Jane. "Aro has been wondering what has been taking so long. Let us continue."

He put a hand on his mates back, urging her forward silently.

Demetri found that he no longer cared what would happen with Cullen and his human, not so long as his mate stayed.

I was a moron.

Despite the seriously fucked up and dangerous situation that Bella had somehow pulled me into, I couldn’t help but blush as I felt this stranger's hand on my lower back.

'Demetri. His name is Demetri, Y/N.'

The gesture felt oddly warm and comforting. He felt oddly warm and comforting.

And I liked it. But also I didn't like it. He was making me feel all funny and I honestly didn't know what to do about it.

I glanced back at him, only to find him already looking at me, something akin to wonder in his eyes. He gave me a small smile and I turned back around, blushing harder. I liked that smile. A lot. I shook my head, following behind Edward and Bella, doing my best to not trip.

I had bigger things to worry about. Such as getting out of this situation alive. Alice had neglected to tell me much of anything, and I had only caught snippets of her conversation with Bella on the plane. All I knew was that the Volturi laid down the law, and they were not to be fucked with. I suddenly wished I had paid more attention instead of worrying about the death trap that was called a plane.

I grabbed Alice's hand, my anxiety spiking. She gave my hand a small squeeze, sending me another smile. But something was off. She wouldn't look me in the eye. In fact I couldn't recall her looking me in the eye since we had boarded the plane to Italy. And outside of his initial surprise to see me, neither had Edward. I frowned at the sudden realization, slowing down a moment and pulling my hand from hers. Demetri slowed down as well, gently pressing on my back for me to continue, but I stayed rooted in the spot.

"What are you hiding?" My voice cracked. "What did you see?"

Alice looked back at me, surprised.

"Now is not the time, Y/N." Demetri's lips brushed against my ear.

I really liked the way he said my name.

"Indeed." Jane turned around, her face blank.

Demetri tensed, angling himself so that I was out of Jane's eyesight.

"Do not worry, Demetri. I have no intent to harm your mate... As long as she keeps up."

She was so blasé about the whole thing that it took a minute for me to register what she said. Mate? I had a mate? Mates were a thing?

Demetri hissed at her and everyone edged away from the two of them, looking at Demetri as if he were a dead man. Jane just smiled.

"Let us continue. Demetri, do keep your human in line."

I wondered if my brain had just stopped working at that point because I would have normally said something back, but I couldn't bring myself to do much of anything. Demetri turned back around, looking at me as one would a spooked animal. And I was pretty close to a spooked animal. I was starting to hyperventilate, and I definitely wanted to run, but I couldn't get my legs to work.

"Y/N." He reached out, clasping both of my arms lightly. "I'm sorry. I didn't want you to find out this way, but we really must keep going."

I nodded, numb. Alice knew. How long had she known? And Edward hadn't bothered to say a damn thing to me either. Why? They couldn't bother to prepare me for this? I have a fucking mate. That's not something you can just shove under the rug. And Jane. Fucking Jane-

Demetri's hand slid into my own, the coolness of his skin breaking me out of my haze just enough to keep moving forward. I could feel myself beginning to shut down and disassociate, auto-pilot taking over. I could feel his thumb rubbing circles softly on the palm of my hand and decided to focus on that instead.

Jane pushed the heavy double doors in front of us open.

My brain refused to shut off, memories of the last 24 hours replaying repeatedly in my head.

Bella had been released under two conditions:

She was to be turned within the year.

I was to stay here, to be with my mate.

I didn't have a choice, not that it really mattered, because I would have given myself up in a heartbeat for Bella. But they had taken the deal with barely a thought. Even Bella. That's when I realized that she knew. She had known the whole time. And Alice. I kept thinking about how she had worked so hard to convince me to come. To be Bella's emotional support. I wasn't there to be her emotional support. I was there to be traded, like some dog. And it hurt.

I had lost everything.

My friends. My home. My family.

I would never see my mother again. My father had passed a little over a year ago to cancer, so my mother and I were already in the practice of mourning. But my mom, not only had she lost my dad, but now she would think I was dead too. How would she cope?

How was I going to cope? How could I ever trust anyone again? Bella and the Cullens had taken advantage of me. Of my love. My loyalty.

I wouldn't let it happen again. Never.

{Masterlist} // {Request Guidelines}

Taglist: @alecvolturi @lack-lust-3r @pawspurpaw @pooka167 @rosedpetal

Wanna be notified when I post a new fic? Ask to join my taglist!

#demetri volturi x reader #demetri volturi #volturi #fanfic #reader insert #twilight

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b-a-pigeon · 1 year

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As you might expect from a couple of queer indie authors, Fell & I are going hard on the sales and promotions for Pride Month! I'll try to summarize as succinctly as possible, and remember that you can always click the links for a full synopsis ;)

Are you in the mood for...

✨ An emotional, reflective gay fantasy romance following a werewolf cowboy whose family takes in an amnesiac vampire? Fell's debut novel, Both Sides of the Moon, is on sale! You can buy a paperback for $11.99 & the ebook is on Countdown Sale June 3-7, starting at $0.99!

✨ A short and sweet sapphic contemporary fantasy read? My novella Worm in a Jar is pay what you want on Gumroad all month, so you can download it free if you'd like!

✨ A not-romantic fantasy novel with queer trans protagonists, about a demon and a demon hunter who must team up to prevent an imprending wave of violence? Our upcoming collab, Hierarchy of the Unseen, comes out June 21! It's up for preorder now, and available as an ARC on Netgalley :)

✨ The above, and also deals and/or supporting queer trans authors? This month, we're running a special offer on Patreon: all new & current patrons starting at the $4 tier will receive a free paperback of HotU (in addition to the ebook downloads, early access to our work, behind-the-scenes exclusives, and more already offered to patrons)!

✨ Finding more queer indies to support? Check out Pride SFF Reads & Read LGBTQ Authors on Bookfunnel!

I'll post about these individually in the coming weeks, but just wanted to throw it all out there at once 🖤 Reblogs appreciated! Thank you all for your support!

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thranduel · 10 months

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i just discovered that there’s two different versions of astarion’s hug scene :o

the first version is triggered after you reach moonrise towers when you go to long rest at camp and he basically admits that his plan at the beginning was to seduce you, sleep with you and manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on him, but it failed because he ended up falling for you. then he says “you’re incredible. you deserve something real. i want us to be something real” in the softest voice, and then admits that for a long time, he used his body to lure people to his master so he’s not used to intimacy and proper relationships and it’s hard for him.

the second version is triggered after you talk to a drow in moonrise towers. she wants your blood to make a potion + for her own research, but if you decline, she’ll turn to astarion instead and say she wants to be bitten by him because she knows he’s a vampire spawn. she asks if he “belongs to you” and if you select the option that says “excuse me? he’s his own person”, he approves. then she keeps pressuring him and he gets visibly upset and says no because he doesn’t want to bite her. she turns to you again and asks if you can talk some sense into him but if you say “he said no. there’s nothing more to discuss”, he approves again.

then later at camp when you long rest, the conversation starts with him thanking you (his voice is so soft in this scene i almost cried 😭). he proceeds to tell you how he spent 200 years using his body to lure pretty things back to his master and he says that what he wanted and how he felt about what he doing never mattered, and you could’ve done the same to him, but you didn’t. his voice was angry while talking about his past, and i love how much thought and detail they put into it because the moment his mind went back to you and how you helped him, his voice went so soft again. there was a quick pause and a small look of surprise on his face before he said “but you didn’t. and i’m grateful”, and the way he said it made me so emotional because you could tell how genuine it was. he’s so used to being told what to do and he said it would’ve been easy to just force himself through it, but for the first time, someone actually cared about HIS feelings and allowed him to make a decision for himself. then you can tell him you care about him and hug him, and the rest of the scene is the same as the first version.

i love both versions so much, but i got the second one in my playthrough and i’m so happy that i did. i think it was such a beautiful and important conversation to have and i’m glad that i was able to support him and allow him to make his own decision because it was such a big thing for him. depending on which dialogue options you choose, you can also get him to confess his initial plan to seduce you like he did in the first scene, or you can just leave it at him thanking you and remind him that he never has to do anything he doesn’t want to do. i feel like that moment also made him realise how much he actually loves my character and how much she loves him. the first version is really sweet too but i feel like there wasn’t a big specific moment that triggered it. you just need to romance him, have high approval and reach moonrise and then it just automatically triggers as part of the romance. but with the second version, i like how you actually had to go out of your way to unlock a specific scene and stand up for him, because later that night he makes the effort to come up to you and thank you and tell you how much it meant to him.

#astarion #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 spoilers

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pumpkinspice-prouvaire · 2 months

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pumpkinspice-prouvaire's required les mis fic reading list

enough of u supported me in my half asleep post asking about fic recs the other day so I am providing. If you want a deep look into my inner psyche this is also the list for that hehe. I tried to be strict about only including my absolute MUST READ fics that I adore and have read and reread and reread again multiple times. Also these will be mostly ExR, to no one's surprise. But there might be a few other ships and gen fics in there too. It's under the read more because this bitch is gonna get long

Auto-read authors:

I didn't wanna rec the same authors too many times in my list proper so these are the authors whose works I have read all (or nearly all) of multiple times. The authors whose tax returns I would read if they posted them on ao3. I will be featuring my favourite fics by them in the list

Fiver

dannyPURO

TheLibrarina

quillsand

Petr1chor

defractum

ShameDumpster

vamillepudding

revolutionbarbie

loverism (all of their fics are currently in a privated bookmark but I have faith that they will someday return. loverism if u see this I miss u)

Need_To_Comment_Rising

Multi-Chapter fics/Series/WIPs:

Under My Wings You Will Find Refuge- Fiver: (WIP) This is the most required reading of my required reading list. I can quote passages of this fic by heart. It's my roman empire. PLEASE check this one out if you haven't it is the best ExR fic in existence, it will change ur life I promise

Beneath a Dragon Moon- The Librarina: GOT AU, no GOT knowledge required. Lots of dramatic moments interspaced with some lovely tender ExR

Guided by a Beating Heart -torakowalski: my absolute FAVOURITE Enjolras centric angst fic. Lots of emotion, lots of friendship, will make you ugly sob

you and i walk a fragile line (is this the time it finally breaks)?- UnforgettableJoMarch: (WIP) I am so enjoying following along with this one. Heartbreaking plot with sublime execution and some brilliant lines, so looking forward to seeing this one develop

The Future's Owned By You and Me- quillsand: ENJOLRAS/FEUILLY ENJOLRAS/FEUILLY ENJOLRAS/FEUILLY WHAT MORE CAN I SAY. Absolutely fantastic rarer pair fic with as much (and maybe more) importance devoted to the activism as to the ship

Getting Fucked in Lingerie- downtheroadandupthehill: PWP. ahem. anyways.

(With a Jubilant Shout) They Will Come One and All- zade: PWP. AHEM. ANYWAYS.

True Blood AU-kjack89: Exactly what it sounds like. Vampire Grantaire and Human Enjolras shenanigans

words can be unwritten- defractum: my favourite soulmate au which makes me melt every time <3

Armillaria- RevocablePeril: THE MOST COURFIUS FIC OF ALL TIME. Lots of excellent Les Amis content in general. SUCH a good, massively underrated fic. 121 kudos??????????? You're all insane.

In An Age Without Heroes- ShitpostingfromtheBarricade: Gloryhole soulmates, the prison industrial complex, Oprah.

walls come tumbling down-reptilianraven: They're cute your honor. One of the only high school AUs I will abide by tbqh hehe

Oneshots:

What's a Bed Between Friends?- dannyPURO: if there's one thing you should know about me it's that I ADORE the there was only one bed trope

epiphany- Abidatchery: screaming crying throwing up that this isn't the fandom's most kudos'ed fic. Every word is expertly crafted and absolutely stunning

Vienna Roast- revolutionbarbie: cosy coffee shop au with a version of Enjolras we don't get to see but that I really enjoy

Out of Touch- ShameDumpster: LET ENJOLRAS GET LOVED YOU COWARDS

A Little More Lois Lane- stellatundra: Just a really funny and silly AU in which Grantaire is Superman

Love in a Coffee Shop-tellthemstories: an absolute fandom classic and rightly so. I've read this one so many times and every time there'll still be something that makes me laugh out loud

My anaconda don't want none (at all)-vamillepudding: v funny and sweet ace enj fic with hilarious triumvirate and exr dynamics

The Waiting is the Hardest Part-samyazaz: In this house, we absolutely love a sexy bet

Between Meetings and Midnight- PieceofCait: Enjolras cries after sex send tweet

A Bad Penny- PBJellie: Gay cowboys and sickfics are the ultimate combo for SURE

Leaves in the Void- myrmidryad: lots of emotion lots of friendship this one is so heavy but SO good you guys. It's also a Space AU I know we all love that <3

my heart's been borrowed (yours has been blue)-Petr1chor: P-tri is so good at writing fics where Enjolras is a complete dumbass and he wrote this one especially for me <3 <3 <3

fire in my hands- geode: This is my go to fic if I want a laugh. "Do you like parsnips?" "Yes they're my second favourite vegetable" iconic exchange god bless

I Would Do Anything For Love- Need_to_Comment_Rising: one of my fave ace Enjolras fics with lovely tender ExR. No I'm not biased because I worked on this series, don't be silly

Like Comfort, Like Solace, Like Relief- areyoumiserableyet: The sensation of coming home to the people you love after a long day <3

Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood- sonhoedesrazao: There should be more fics with oblivious to his own emotions Grantaire that's all I'm saying

Trying to Leave the Ground-barricadeur: rly comfy cosy smut fic

YAY ENJOY I'm gonna go lie down now god I hope I haven't forgotten anything lmfao

#fic recs #les mis #les mis fanfic #exr #enjolras #grantaire #and also other characters #god bless everyone who wrote these fics btw #also if you read these fics come scream to me about them

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midnight-glasses · 2 months

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This headcanon clearly inspired by @/dialovers-lover-xoxo check out her post!

Technically this is a part two of something I've done before, this is one of the characters I love the most! So I hope you guys can have fun with it.

Some things that I imagine he might have:

🍵🍃— He has a charming smile, often accompanied by a playful glint in his eyes.

💚 🌿 — He often expresses himself through physical gestures, such as running his hands through his hair or tapping his fingers rhythmically when he is deep in thought.

🍵🍃— Laito's skin is pale, typical of a vampire, but with a slightly warmer undertone that contrasts his clothing.

💚 🌿 — His posture is confident and relaxed, with a tendency to lean casually against surfaces.

🍵🍃— Laito's shoulders are broad.

💚 🌿 — He keeps his nails short and well-groomed, a practical choice for his active lifestyle.

🍵🍃— Laito's lips are naturally pink and often curved into a smirk or playful grin.

💚 🌿 — He has a habit of running his fingers through his hair when deep in thought or planning mischief.

🍵🍃— Laito has a robust build, not overly muscular but with a sturdy frame, this is natural when you are a vampire, he never bothered to develop his physique however.

💚 🌿 — Laito's hands are large and capable, with long fingers that are nimble and skilled in various tasks.

🍵🍃 — His fingers are nimble and adept, capable of delicate tasks like playing musical instruments or handling objects with ease.

💚 🌿 — He has a distinctive laugh that is often accompanied by a bright smile.

🍵🍃— Whenever Laito smiles, dimples form on his cheeks.

💚 🌿 — His skin has a smooth texture, often maintaining a pale complexion typical of vampires but with a healthy glow that suggests vitality.

🍵🍃 — When he walks, Laito's gait is purposeful yet fluid. He moves with a natural grace just for draws attention.

💚 🌿 — Laito's voice is velvety and smooth.

🍵🍃 — Laito has a well-defined collarbone, as well as shoulder blades.

💚 🌿 — Laito doesn't have a lot of hair, whether facially or bodily, the only places that hair can be seen without much searching are on his eyebrows and hair, however when you look at him more closely it's possible see small ginger hairs that adorn his skin, it's like the skin of a peach.

🍵🍃 — When it comes to body hair, it can be said that he is the middle ground between the triplets, with Kanato and Ayato being two polar opposites in this aspect.

💚🌿 — I like to imagine Laito having freckles too, considering he is a redhead. In my opinion, both Ayato and Laito could share these characteristics. There is no canon basis to support this, but I like to think so.

🍵🍃 — Laito definitely has some moles scattered across his body besides the one he has on his cheek; I suppose he has some on his shoulder and forearm, and another set of them on his abdomen.

💚🌿 — His hair is soft and very well taken care of, this is probably one of the parts he is most proud of.

🍵🍃— Long legs.

💚🌿 — Wide torso.

🍵🍃 — Laito's skin is surprisingly sensitive to touch, reacting subtly to different textures and temperatures.

💚🌿 — His eyes are lighter in tone than Ayato's eyes; however, unlike his brother, Laito's eyes are brighter, although hazier. It is often difficult to read his true emotions through his eyes.

🍵🍃 — Still commenting on his eyes, Laito has sharp eyes like those of a feline; their curvature is pointed, as if he had natural eyeliner.

💚🌿 — Laito has slightly calloused fingers due to many years of practicing with the piano; however, they are very smooth, almost imperceptible in a quick interaction with him.

🍵🍃 — He has a slender neck.

💚🌿 — Laito's hands are particularly expressive, often gesturing or playing with objects.

🍵🍃 — He usually smells of sweet-smelling cologne and soap, which varies depending on the type he chose that day.

I could write more; however, at present, I do not have much time for that. I also intend to explore if I can do the same for his other siblings. Thank you for reading!

#diabolik lovers #midnightglasses #diahell #dialovers #diabolik lovers headcanons #midnightglasses headcanons #dialovers laito #laito sakamaki #sakamaki laito #diabolik lovers headcanon #Laito Sakamaki Headcanons

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holybibly · 6 months

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Divine Rosa ❢ot8xreader❣

❣ Pairing: yandere!otx8 x reader

❣ Genre: Dark Romance, vampire au, angst, horror, yandere au, smut

❣ Word Count: 8.5k

❣ Summary: The moth always pours itself into the flame; what a pity that in the end it burns out. After the tragic death of her sister, MС tries to find answers to the questions she left behind. This leads her to a gated cottage town known for its luxurious rose gardens. In addition, there are also these mysterious men who manage all the affairs in the city. Too sweet, too helpful, too intrusive, and too in love.

❣ WARNING: only!18+ Themes of death, suicide, severe depression, stalking, blood, yandere behavior, panic attack. Sexual themes: hematolagnia, body worship, masturbation, bite kink, olfactophilia, voyeurism.

❣ Disclaimer: I don't support yandere behavior, stalking, or religious imposition. Themes include violence, obsession, possessiveness, and emotional or psychological manipulation. This book is intended solely for entertainment purposes.

❣Chapter 2: Wolf in sheep's clothing❣

Love is a word that deserves closer consideration, halfway between the dry hypocrisy of the dictionary and its deep sacral meaning.

What a strange feeling…

Love, both virtuous and vicious, motivates us to accomplish great feats yet also triggers the commission of heinous crimes. This mysterious and inexplicable feeling interweaves its complex structure within us, becoming the most unstable, contentious, and hazardous of all human emotions.

Love is the fundamental source of all our emotions and experiences in the world, both beautiful and disgusting.

Love has a multitude of motives, including the desire for control, submission, care, seduction, lust, protection, worship, creation and, of course, destruction.

The feeling is manifold; We can call this complex emotion by different names, including passion, hatred, obsession, alienation, objectification, mania, unattainable dreams, happiness, idolatry, spiritual unity, and possibly the most poetic of all—the second half of the soul.

Humans crave love from birth until death. This desire is inherent and everlasting. As we take our first breath, we unconsciously absorb the toxic essence of love, which settles in our lungs like delicate, silky flowers.

This need is woven into the very structure of our DNA, an animal instinct that inadvertently condemns us to eternal suffering.

Love exists as a palpable entity, often obscured by human perceptions of carefree happiness and joy. It can be likened to a lurking deep-sea creature, concealing its true visage, branching and moving under the thin surface of our skin.

She is as cunning as a murderer's grin, and she is well aware of the inevitable tragic end of every story she is about to tell. Though we may be in the belief that we have had a joyful life, in reality all our actions have been under the impulse of love. For the sake of this deceptive feeling, which unites us for a moment in the ecstatic joy and privileges of angelic ugliness.

In the end, our physical bodies will serve to feed the earthworms, to house the larvae and to nourish the roots.

Never again will they gaze into each other's eyes, never again will the turquoise flame passion between them ignite, and never again will their lips meet in a voluptuousness kiss.

Love has the power to drive us insane, to blind us, and even to lead to our demise.

And yet, in life, it is possible to miss everything but love.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

3rd POV

I want to fill my mouth with your name. I want to eat you whole. Pablo Neruda, Twenty Love Poems, and a Song of Despair

“You look pathetic, San. Don't you think so? I wonder what Seonghwa would say to that?” Yeosang lazily runs his pale spidery fingers over Yoru's silky black fur, looking with contempt at the naked brunette stretched on a pile of knocked-down sheets and pillows.

The rings on his hands burn with blood, like the eyes of the Devil.

San looked blissfully relaxed and languid, like a caressing predator. His golden skin seemed to glow from within with an otherworldly glow as the translucent sunlight greedily licked his body with its soft touch.

Still, there was something vaguely animalistic, almost primitively predatory, about him, which in no way connected him with the arrogant aloofness that was inherent in the entire vampire race.

There was hot blood running through his veins, making him even more dangerous.

He was unbridled.

“I don't care what Seonghwa says, if he says a word at all in the next few centuries. Personally, I would prefer that his magnificent body continue to rest in the coffin for a very long time.” A smug smile played on his sensual lips. “And unlike you, my dear brother, I don't hide my true desires.” A slow, almost lazy glance from San's silvery eyes swept over the slender body of Yeosang sitting in the chair, lingering for a moment on the pale pink patch of soft skin on his temple.

He imagines, not without pleasure, how, with particular cruelty, he tears it from the porcelain face of his beloved brother with his long claws, leaving behind a wet, gaping wound.

San hated it. His birthmark is indisputable proof of his connection with his beautiful Rose.

The sign that binds their souls tightly into a single whole.

He should have found her first that night.

“Look at you, Sangie. You act like a coward, hiding in dark corners and wandering in her dreams. Perhaps I could understand you if your wayward antics gave her pleasure. If our Rose woke up with your name on her lips, all wet and needy, so desperate for more.

You have to ignite her passion and her desire to be loved, make her feel special, and fill her with thirst and hunger for our touch and our love. All her thoughts should belong only to us. But how did we end Yeosangie? Tell me, huh? Our Rosa has an animal terror before you. Sarang is afraid of you. Isn't that really pathetic? You know, I can smell that sweet scent of fear on her sheets.” San buried his face in the soft fabric of the silk pillow on which Sarang usually slept and took a deep, slow breath. “So damn delicious… I want to eat her whole.”

All he wanted now was to feel her from the inside, so that her scent would stay forever in his lungs, merge with his blood, be absorbed into his skin, and become an integral part of it.

God, he is prepared to worship this woman and idolize her in every conceivable way.

She was his.

Not in some figurative or metaphorical sense, no. She was his everything. A soul that fills the shell with his dead body, blood black as night, that runs through his veins, his thoughts. Every second of his life. San couldn't tell where he ended, and she began, for you were two halves fused together into a single breathing living being.

The beginning and the end of his life

If he could know death, which was no longer possible for him, he would be happy to suffocate on that heady aroma that was spinning his head like a powerful drug. And to do so until death takes him into his arms.

How beautiful would his death be! Silk sheets, roses, and Sarang are the only true loves.

“She smells so divine, Sangie; how can you resist this temptation?” His back arched gracefully. Under the golden canvas of the skin, the jagged vertebral bones were outlined, and the flexible muscles were stretched like tight velvet ribbons. The relief of his chiseled abs pressing against the bed, his thighs rushing up, creating a perfect s-line.

He moved so smoothly. A large predatory cat, draining gross sexuality and animal dominance. A true erotic vision, fringed by the diffused glow of the lazy midday sun. The smell of her fear brought out the worst in him and made him crave to devour her heart and soul, but he couldn't do it.

“You don't know shit, San. You come here whenever you want and act like a cranky kid, pouting and expressing anger because you couldn't get her first. What a pity, because I was the one who made the connection. I can feel her; I can feel her in my veins; I don't have to act like a bitch in heat fucking her bed.” Yeosang's voice was indifferently cold, so deceptively calm, but San could clearly hear the poisonous malice in every word he said.

It looks like he hit a nerve.

“You tell me you'd never been in my place, Yeosangie?” San grinned, and on his cheeks appeared charming dimples. “You never could lie;you always spilled everything to Seonghwa like a good puppy at the first snap of his fingers. You should ask Wooyoung to teach you some lessons if you want to play games with me. We all know exactly what you do, so didn't be shy about it, honey. Do you think you can hide from Hongjoong your little dream manipulation, constant stalking, and night visits? Or how pathetic and pathetic you look, whining and wriggling like a whore when you come in with her dirty laundry, which you hide under your pillow. Oh my God, what will Seonghwa say when he finds out? You should care. Our good boy has gone to the dark side; he's going to be so disappointed that he lost his mutt. Although you know, maybe you and Wooyoung aren't as different as I originally thought. He's just as pathetic a puppy as you are, my beautiful brother, and look how that turned out for him. Perhaps you'll be the next one to end up in a coffin. I'd change my behavior if I were you. Bad boys get punished.” There was mockery and outright bullying in his voice.

That's right, they were family; their loyalty to each other was an unbreakable blood oath, and if necessary, they would be willing to die for each other. Blood is thicker than water. But the bond they shared with Sarang was different from anything that could be explained. She wasn't a missing part; to think so would be foolish. No, she was a part of themselves, a part of their dead souls, filling their bodies with a semblance of life. Something extremely more dangerous than any possible blood bond. A bond where the lines between reality and fantasy, obsession and morality, understanding and rationality were blurred. And that bond was the reason, why Wooyoung, Yunho, and Seonghwa were still resting in their luxurious coffins. Iron, velvet, and crystal—so completely different, so frighteningly the same.

San remembers with pleasure how good it felt to drive stakes into their black hearts. The spell would be broken with a kiss. Perfectly. He hopes their sleep will be eternal. This time, it should be different. He will be the first, yes. San will be first—not Seonghwa, not Hongjoong, not Wooyoung, but him.

That's right. Everything will be the way it should be from the beginning. After all, he was the one who started it all.

Once upon a time, Sarang belonged only to him.

“San…” Yeosang hissed menacingly, digging his bony fingers forcefully into the soft feline fur, causing Yoru to meow painfully and curl up into a ball in his lap. His fangs bared, scratching his plump lower lip, and black veins trickled in an intricate pattern down his thin neck.

The brunette laughed and rubbed his cheek against the soft fabric of the pillow, covering his eyes dreamily.

The silk felt wonderful against his bare skin.

“You hiss like a kitten; will you show me your sharp little teeth?”

“You'd better watch out for your tongue, or I might rip it out.” The fierce gaze literally stabbed him. It burned and penetrated to the core of his being.

“I dare you.” The bloodied lips opened, allowing the pointed tip of his tongue to traverse the tortured, swollen flesh, licking away the blood that seeped to the surface.

“Let his lips be like rose petals - red as fresh blood.” Said the Queen Witch.

San covered his eyes and completely ignored the angry brunette. He loved to play with fire. It was his nature. If it had been Hongjoon or Mingi in Yeosan's place, he might have thought twice before poking the tiger with a stick, and of course he would never intentionally offend Seonghwa; the outcome of any of those confrontations would not have been in his favor. But this was Yeosang - airy and gentle as melting snow.

The shadows of San's long eyelashes lay in a lacy pattern on his heart-wrenching cheekbones. They were one of the most striking features of his appearance - sharp and angular - and they made his face a masterpiece. A creation skilfully crafted by the hand of a master.

Yeosang's beauty was soft and angelic, the kind of beauty one might see on the faces of the winged, plump cherubs beneath the vaulted ceilings of Gothic cathedrals. He had once admired their beauty so much, especially when he tore their flesh with his claws and tore baby, fluffy wings from their pale, soft bodies.

Such an exquisite, decadent taste.

San's beauty was of a completely different kind: vicious, dark and hypnotic. Chiseled like the eternally frozen perfection of a pagan marble god, every line of his face was sharp and deadly seductive. From the feline cut of his eyes, shimmering with silvery immortality, to the capriciously curved corners of his plump lips, always inflamed and soft, so tortured and tender from incessant biting and kissing…

San's appearance was sinful.

He was the most desirable of all nightmares, the special kind that seduces the girls of the church, then fills his bathtub with their blood and organizes orgies in the bloody pieces of their torn bodies. San was formidable and intimidating, but his aura was alluring and seductive. The terrible prospect of an inevitable end and death had never looked so appealing. Maybe he was having an affair with you, or maybe he was going to kill you. There was lust, danger, and rage. There was a delicate balance between horror and desire, as if he were the embodiment of both the horror and the charm of God. He was the man everyone secretly dreams about when they caress themselves before going to bed, in a cold, lonely bed.

He was the person who made you feel uncomfortable in your own skin and who made you experience a shivering sensation of fear that would spread over all of your exposed areas.

San was undoubtedly that person. Despite the potential for his eyes to linger on your skin, his presence was desired. Exquisite wounds, reminiscent of blossoms from damaged tissue, were created by his razor-sharp canines.

Death and sex were not enough for San; he had a craving for disorder and hot sensations.

He always wanted more, whether it was blood or pleasure. He never felt satisfied.

His sole desire was Rose—just her alone.

“Do you smell that Sangie scent?” San inhaled deeply again that intoxicating divine scent, resisting the urge to savor her flavor like a dog, choking and whimpering. “Mmmm, I want her so badly. I want her whole, every fucking cell of her body. She's driving me crazy.”

Sarang emitted a scent that was distinctly sharp and overpowering in its fragrance. Reminiscent of aged wine, it was infused with the bitterness of dark chocolate, the piquancy of red pepper, and the sweetness of roses. It tastes like sin and blessing at the same time. Like a slight saltiness akin to the tears she had shed, he longed to lick them off her rounded, flushed cheeks. The fruity sweetness of illicit fruit. The taste of his own blood. The metal and thick aroma of their sexual encounter. Thick as semen and honey.

San wants to have her. Wants her to love him. He desires his love to be reciprocated as fervently and passionately as he does.

His only wish is her love.

Although it is not enough for him to possess her love, he wants her to have an intense and almost sadistic affection for him—one that goes beyond what seems possible. He yearns for her to destroy him. Because he's confident in Sarang's ability to do so. He needs more. More than she could offer him, more than she could ever agree to. He is but a slave, created to worship her.

San's aim is to belong to her; he would go to any extent, even to the point of destroying the entire world, if that is what it takes to achieve that. The value of her love is immeasurable, and his objective is absolute. She is the center of his life and the very essence of his being. She is the haunting presence in his dreams, a seductive force that both seduces and tortures. The midnight idol of his desire, the serpent that dwells around his heart, tempts him to sin.

San craves her love so much, and that need is so painful, so all-consuming, and so twisted. If need be, he would kill her with his own hands, just to be sure that no one else would ever have her.

Sharing her with his brothers was like hellfire burning him from the inside out, but it was a paltry sacrifice he could make in exchange for her love.

This time, he won't let her go. This time, not even death would dare separate them. Saran will be his. She will be theirs. In life. In death. Forever and ever.

Soon.

It will happen so soon. San can't wait for the day when his Goddess is beneath him, in the cage of his body, sprawled on the black velvet of his bed. With his fangs deep into her sweet flesh, and she will screaming his name in a haze of ecstatic pleasure.

He would make her see stars. San will take her all the way to the doors of Heaven.

“San,” “San,” “San,” “San” over and over, until her voice completely collapses to a painful wheeze, until he absorbs every tiny sound she makes, every moan, every breath, every barely perceptible note, until all she will remember is his name.

Until Sarang whispers right into his lips, “I am yours.”

Soon.

In the meantime, San can patiently wait. He will wait as he always has, obediently and without complaint. He will be such a good boy. San will wait obediently, as he has done for centuries and centuries before. Until the time is right to pursue his desires, he will take all that he has dreamt of, and God will save the souls of those who get in his way.

Right now, he thinks he could die here — in her bed, surrounded by the lingering warmth of her body and her maddening scent. He would like nothing more than to show her all his passion and devotion and all the love he could give her.

He dreams of running his lips over her skin and tasting her until his whole face is wet and glistening with her juices. He will fuck her into oblivion until night turns to day and then drown her in tenderness, worshiping her caress-weary body as an obedient slave should.

Sometimes, he thinks it's not normal—the feelings he has for her. Such love simply cannot exist. How can someone love someone so much? Is it normal to hate the very existence of nature and the heavenly bodies for being able to see her beauty, which should belong to him alone?

However, these were only momentary musings until he regained his composure, dispelling any doubts. How could he even question his love? It felt so perfect and effortless, like breathing. How could such thoughts even enter his mind?

Her love was a life worth living.

It was destined since the dawn of time, when spirits roamed the earth, the sun was young, and the old gods had not yet vanished. She belonged to them, and they belonged to her. They sensed her first breath on their lips. He felt.

Their love bloomed again—a blood rose.

Soon…

These fantasies drove him mad; every cell ignited with the desire to possess, awakening his animal predatory nature. The ugly nature of his genuinely depraved being.

He pictured Sarang biting into his neck and taking possession of him. She aimed at him as if he were nothing more than a thing, a toy for her amusement.

“Say my name, Sarang. Express your fondness for me and acknowledge that I am your only one. I want you to own me and claim me as yours. Say my name until it burns your lips. Again and again. Drink my blood, bite me to death; I'm nothing more than your slave, just a pathetic means of pleasure. Hit me. Hurt me, I beg you. I need it so badly. Please, my love, I am begging you to love me. Love… Love me so much until it kills me. That is what I wish for.”

His hips moved smoothly, grinding his arousal against the rumpled bedclothes. San moaned, breathlessly gasping as he found the perfect angle to satisfy his intense desire for release. He needs to cum; he couldn't leave here without cumming. He buried his face in the pillow, panting and whimpering like a wild animal possessed. His primal instincts demanded he leave his mark on her, to possess her and fuck her into oblivion until her belly bloated from the amount of cum pouring into her and her head felt light and empty.

His claws lengthened, digging into the mattress, leaving sickening jagged stripes as his hips moved uncontrollably, continuing to rub his throbbing wet cock against the silken folds of the crumpled sheets.

The sounds he made were almost heavenly.

Soft, extended moans that turned into pitiful sobs. He sounded like an angel in the throes of passion.

In his fantasies, San imagined drinking from her as long scarlet streams of her sweet blood ran down their naked bodies, staining everything red. How deeply he entered her body, seeing the imprint of his cock on her flat stomach as her neat, pointed nails plowed into his back into gaping lacerations.

His teeth clenched as he let out a hoarse moan, the sound vibrating deep in his throat. San needed to cum; he was on the verge of madness. The need for pleasure was more obvious than anything around him at the moment. The transparent essence of his arousal dripped down onto the sheets, sticking to his golden, wet skin with every movement of his muscled thighs.

His thoughts returned to the dark, vicious images of hot animal sex. A fine shiver ran down his entire body.

He will run his tongue along every contour of the intricate bloody lines, licking up every last drop. First, the longest neck-open and vulnerable to his insatiable mouth, then lower down the hollow between the heavy breasts, rising in time with her labored breathing. His lips would close around the hard pink nipples, scraping them with his teeth, making her squeal and gasp. Lower down her flat belly, where the flowers of his hungry kisses and hard touches bloomed. Until his tongue is between the moist puffy folds of her pussy, he runs the pointed tip along the soft silken flesh, plunging deeper into the tight hole where blood mingles with her natural sweetness. He wants to feel the velvety, wet walls of her vagina clench and quiver around his tongue.

“Sarang!” His voice was hoarse, and his hands gripped the sheets beneath him with such force that his knuckles turned white, almost tearing the skin.

He looked pornographic.

San was so lost in his fantasies that he had completely forgotten about Yeosang, who was still in this room, until he was reminded of it with a sharp, painful tug of his hair. Long, thin fingers gripped the dark, damp strands with force and tilted his head back rigidly, revealing a view of a strong neck with veins swollen from exertion and beads of sweat running down her

“Here we go, such a pathetic, stupid bitch.” Yeosang said it with mockery in his voice. His lips curled into a wicked smirk, and San could feel it on his skin as the brunet whispered in his ear. “Look at you, you're nothing more than a slut; where's your pride, San, eh? The great general of the dark army, the heartless ice prince, the ruthless Ripper, is nothing more than a drooling whore shamefully rubbing his cock against the sheets.” Yeosang's fingernails dug painfully into his scalp, tugging harder on the long silk strands the color of night.

“Yes, yes, keep calling me that.” His request sounded like a plea. All Yeosang's words made him move faster, almost in desperation.

The rhythm of his hips became erratic and uncontrollable. He was close. His teeth clenched as he let out a hoarse moan, the sound vibrating deep in his throat.

“Are you imagine fucking her, Sannie, hmm? Or what would it taste like? I bet the taste will be heavenly; she's sweeter than ever in this life. Oh no, I know exactly what you're thinking.” A mocking chuckle escaped his ruby-red lips. “You want her to bite you.” Those wicked lips pressed against the frantically beating pulse point. “Right here.” Yeosang's teeth sank with force into the flushed skin of San's neck—that particular sensitive spot on his neck beneath a scattering of pale freckles.

San's eyes rolled back in pleasure, his mouth opened in a silent moan, and his hips shook with the intensity of his orgasm. Thick, hot cum splattered onto the sheets, staining them with the pale, milky liquid.

The brunet unclenched his teeth, releasing the tender skin. The bite mark was wine-red, with swollen incisor impressions and drops of black blood in the hollows. A poisonous flower, tempting to know sin.

“Sannie, look at the mess you'd made. Truly a royal fuck. I always thought it was more Mingi's style.” Finally, thin but surprisingly strong fingers let go of the silken strands, allowing San to rest his face tiredly against the pillow. His whole body relaxes after the overwhelming orgasm. The entire pillow is soaked with drool and sweat, and semen cools beneath his stomach, sticking uncomfortably to his skin.

He opens one eye and looks up at the vampire leaning over him with a lecherous smile.

“Would you like to join me, my beautiful brother? We still have a few hours before she gets home.” The brunet rolls onto his back to make room for Yeosang in the bed. His fingers run along the sculpted curves of his abs, scooping up the viscous, pearly liquid and sliding it into his mouth. “Mmm…” A long tongue swirled around his fingers, licking up every drop with lazy, slow pleasure.

“You're disgusting, San.” Yeosang puckered his lips in disgust, looking around at the brunette sprawled on the bed. He turned sharply on his heels and strode away from the room; to he pick up Yoru on his way, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, in his arms. “Get up; we have to go. Hongjoon is calling us.”

“You're not leaving the cat?”

The brunette turned around over his shoulder, meeting his gaze with San's silver eyes.

“June misses his darling; for our little girl, it's time to come home.”

San propped himself up on his elbows, looking at the departing Yeosang. His lips stretched in a satisfied smile full of devilish anticipation.

The time had finally come.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

1st POV

"Feed me to the wolves, let them take my flesh."

“Well, I'm glad to finally meet you in a more relaxed setting, Miss Ahn. Please take a seat.” With an elegant gesture, the man motioned me to a deep leather chair in front of his desk. On the glass tabletop was a silver plaque engraved with the name “Mr. Lee Taeho”.

“Miss An” - how sad and tragic that sounds. I never wanted to try out this role. I didn't like being addressed like that, because it was always Mina, and before her, it was my grandmother, and probably my mother was addressed like that when she was alive.

But here I am, the new Miss Ahn, and unlike my predecessors, I have not sought to carry the weight of this unbearable crown. I don't need the congratulatory ribbons and the wet glitter sequins smeared across my face.

Although there was nothing in the address itself that I could call unpleasant, the tone with which it was always delivered foreshadowed the inevitable tragic ending of its own and tasted of earth and chrysanthemums.

You're bound to end up as one of them; it's not all by chance, Sarang. Don't kid yourself.

I saw the future as a series of predetermined events, especially after Mina's death. She had the arrogance to dispose of my life as she saw fit, putting chains of obligations and secrets around my neck. I buried her in the ground, and my days became nothing more than a list of dull plans, paltry hopes, and bitter regrets, as murky as the water in the city canals through which a coffin floats. Still, I couldn't help but wonder who would be the next Miss An when I died, or would I be the one to hold that title forever?

There are never any former queens. There are only dead ones.

I could feel the blood flowing faster through my veins.

For a few moments, there was silence around us, thick and enveloping like fog. If I'd felt any hint of confidence as I walked through the tall glass doors of Silver & Black LTD, now, alone with this man, I was floundering in my social insecurity like a butterfly caught in a spider's web. I resisted the urge to squirm under the gaze of his night-dark eyes. Beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

Lee Taeho wasn't just one of Silver & Black's most successful lawyers; he was also a devilishly handsome man.

He was built like a god. Broad shoulders, narrow hips, and a tight-fitting white shirt that accentuated his muscular biceps, bulging pecs, and flat stomach. The image of strength and power was completed by the perfectly tailored, tight-fitting trousers. The rolled-up sleeves revealed several tattoos on his wiry forearms—something in Latin that I couldn't make out.

His face was also striking, with angular, pointed features that would have looked strange and out of place on anyone else, but the luscious, perfectly sculpted lips made them something unimaginable and outrageously beautiful.

I felt uncomfortable under the weight of his scrutinizing gaze. He was looking at me like I was something special, but not in a sexual or romantic way; rather, it was the look of an explorer who had found an unexpected treasure in a pile of rubbish.

“I honestly didn't expect you to have any free time in the next few months, so thank you for seeing me at such short notice.”

To be honest, I knew absolutely nothing about Silver & Black until Soomin told me about them on the way here. Soo turned out to be absolutely right when she told me about them. This place was the epitome of the arrogant domination of money and power—cold, glassy, and sterile, like a morgue where the remains of all “happy stories” are taken.

I could never belong to such a place, but I could easily imagine Mina here, with her developing blood curls and the unemotional grandeur of royalty. People like my sister were part of that 'proper' society so suited to closed Sunday clubs and icy glass offices. Like all of her kind, Mina was a great predator, used to labeling people and giving them her own names and definitions. She knew exactly how to make those around her feel uncomfortable with just one look.

Some people have everything, others nothing. It's as cruel and true as the inequality of love.

I still didn't understand how Mina had so much money to afford the services of this company, but judging by how polite and “sweetly” the receptionist greeted me at the entrance, she was very much appreciated here.

Blood of my blood.

“You have nothing to thank me for, Saran.” He said that, and I looked back at him in surprise. It wasn't so much the fact that he allowed himself a familiarity that surprised me, but the way he said my name—as if it had always belonged to his lips. It was as if he'd said it over and over again until the intonation was perfect.

My heart beats fast in my chest, but I couldn't tell if it was fear or something else entirely.

“We will always make time for you. If you'll allow me to be frank, I've left a few free hours each day, just in case you decide to call me. Honestly, I expected it to take a little less time on your part, but who am I to judge you, Sarang?”

“But why?” I tried to gather information and put it together in a way that wasn't absurd. I didn't want to assume anything.

“Why? Do I have to explain? Maybe I just wanted to see you; you're a beautiful girl, and I'm a great admirer of the beautiful. He smiled, seemingly satisfied with the embarrassment that must have been written on my face. I could feel the heat spilling over my cheeks, turning them a painfully inflamed shade of red.

I had never been a girl with a 'cute' blush. I was more like a girl burned by the gold of the sun, pressing her cheek directly against the boiling, bubbling surface of the sun.

Taeho lightly drummed his perfectly filed nails on the glass tabletop, completely ignoring my obvious embarrassment at the situation, and continued:

“But let's say that this is due to the fact that your dear sister was a valued client of ours, whom everyone here at Silver & Black LTD sincerely appreciated. Miss Ahn was our special customer. All the staff will agree with me; your sister is impossible not to love.”

“A special client?” I interjected. Somehow, that didn't surprise me at all. Of course, it was only natural that Mina was always at the center of the universe. People followed the sound of her voice like rats behind the magical melody of the flute.

“Are you surprised, Sarang? Your sister has helped our firm in many ways, bringing us new clients and introducing us to the 'right' people, making our firm one of the best in Korea. She's contributed a lot to the development of Silver & Black. There was a strange note in his voice, as if between the cracks there was something terrible—a terrible secret that could change my whole life.

For some reason, I don't feel comfortable at all right now.

“I'm pleased… hmm, or rather, I'm pleased to know that my sister has done so much for you. Lately, she and I haven't really been close, and we've barely chatted. So I didn't know where she went or what kind of people she hung out with.” My words come out a little sour, and I press my lips together.

The lovely Mina, as always, is proving to be the best. I wonder if the day will come when she damn pedestal will be nothing but a pile of ruins at my feet. I thought all this time you'd been pining for roses, but instead you've been doing the right thing. What else don't I know about you, Ahn Min?

What don't I want to know about you?

''Yes, yes, she helped us a lot. Now let's get on with signing the documents, do you mind? I don't want to keep you any longer than necessary.” His words were very dry, businesslike, and in no way in keeping with the previous flirtation. Something flashed in his eyes—concern, doubt, maybe even fear—there was a tense tremor in his hands, and his whole aura changed, as if something huge and evil had turned its attention to him.

“Sure, let's get started.”

The entire process took no more than 30 minutes. I signed document after document, with occasional detached comments from Mr. Lee, which were completely at odds with his previous behavior. There was nothing special about the documents, except for one thing: Rose Hill. As best, I could make out from the extensive stack of papers, it was a small house in the style of Victorian England. It was in the ownership of a gated cottage community, the grounds of which were owned by a private company. It was all too complex and confusing to realize the meaning in the space of 30 minutes. I'll deal with it later, most likely in the company of Soomin and a couple of bottles of wine.

“Can I sell the house I inherited, Rose Hill?” I asked without lifting my head from the papers; a few more strokes and I could be out of here. The atmosphere in the office was terribly tense; my skin itched unpleasantly and tingled in places as if it no longer belonged to me.

“To my regret, I cannot help you in this matter. In all matters concerning Rose Hill, you must deal directly with the owners of the land; I will email you their contacts.” The smile he gave me was forced, and I couldn't help but wonder what had made such a difference in his change of mood.

“Okay, thank you.” I signed the last form and handed the pile of paperwork to Mr. Lee. “I'm done; hopefully everything is settled now. Can I get a copy of the documents, preferably today?”

Taeho cursorily flicked through the pages to make sure each one was signed.

“Our administrator, Sunwoo, will give you all the documents. There is one more thing you need to get before you leave. When you leave here, go further down the corridor to the vault, and Bora will show you a locker in the storage room that belongs to your sister. Now, if you'll excuse me, my next customer is waiting, and I don't want to keep him waiting.”

“Yes, yes, of course. Thank you very much for your time, Mr. Lee.” I clumsily rose from my chair, trying to get out of this stuffy room as quickly as possible. The air felt pressurized, and I felt like I was going to start suffocating a little more. I needed to get out of here right now.

“It was nice to meet you, too, Miss Ahn. Please take care of yourself.” The look he gave me was sad—so unusually sad, like the look of a man living his last day on earth. It was as if the end had come for him before he could realize it.

His words, on the contrary, were a warning. “Take care of yourself.” What kind of lawyer wishes that to a client as a farewell? Was I in danger? Perhaps you were. Although that's true, it's worth crossing out the word “perhaps”, yes, I was in danger. Could he have known about it? Did Taeho know about the roses or the people who sent those awful flowers? Was there something he hadn't told me? A thousand questions were in my head as I walked out of his office.

Mechanically, I reach for the strands of pearls at my neck and twist them around my fingers, nervousness bubbling in my stomach. This isn't some worldwide conspiracy, Sarang. Wake up.

I think I'm becoming paranoid.

The door closes softly behind me. I'm alone in a sterile, shiny corridor.

In the distance, I hear a cheerful laugh—Soomin. She was definitely laughing. Soo is having a great time waiting for me to wrap things up. Even though she was denied my escort to Mr. Lee's office, she wasn't upset at all because the nice receptionist, Sunwoo, I think his name was, was determined not to let her get bored alone.

I could have fallen in love with him. He was charming and cute, with a sweet, heart-shaped smile that would make your teeth rot. He was wearing a perfectly tailored suit, Armani Prive, in a thinly stitched pinstripe. I'd say he looked like a puppy. With those big, wet, shiny eyes and the way he struck the right pose when you told him to.

Yes, that was the kind of guy I fell in love with—the kind with a good reputation and a well-paid job—the kind who makes love, not fucks. They're the ones who make sure he looks you in the eye and whispers to you about how good you're feeling when he's caressing your body.

Good boys. Obedient boys. Sugar-coated like candy.

If I fell in love with a guy like that, Soomin would break him up like a Christmas candy bar and take a bite right down the middle of him. She liked that type—kind, gentle, and submissive. There had never been a lack of male attention in her life, but for some reason, Soo had always surrounded herself with this type of boy, like colorful toys. She wasn't afraid to break them because she could always move on to the next one. They never crossed her, nodding in obedience and jumping as high as she asked. Men were no more precious to Soo than broken crystal balls, shimmering but useless.

The corridor in front of me was long and empty, with a single door at the end. The sound of heels hitting marble tiles echoed in my head, and the checkerboard pattern on the marble was jarring. For a moment, I thought the corridor was narrowing like a rabbit hole, endless and dark. I was short of air, unable to breathe, and the oxygen in my lungs was as thick and viscous as swamp sludge. I clawed at my neck with my fingernails, trying to pull off the pearl collar, but I felt myself tightening it stronger. My eyes stung from tears and mascara, and ink streaks ran down my cheeks, and somehow they felt colder than they should have.

My fingernails dug into the skin on my collarbones, scratching at it with cruelty and anger.

I needed to get away from myself. To be separate from my body and the way I felt. The nightmare awakened inside me, licking my veins, working its way inside, and gnawing into my soul. My consciousness was beyond my mind.

I hear the sound of tearing threads and thousands of pearls falling at my feet, and I fall with them. I want to go back to before it all began. Before the pain, Before the roses.

Fluorescent lights flash like the tails of nameless comets on the pearly roundness of the beads. I see stars exploding behind my eyes, painting the underside of my eyelids with intricate strokes—the constellation Gemini. Nergal. I want to remember the days when roses were just roses, not home to the ghosts of my soul.

I hear a sound—it's pearls crunching under sharp heels. Under steel heels, like the teeth of the Witch Queen.

“Oh my God, Saran!” Someone shouts. Soomin isn't laughing anymore.

Her hands are so cold against my clammy skin. She presses my face against her chest, and the feverish beating of her heart brings me back to reality. She is my white rabbit.

Voices, voices—there are so many of them. It's a cacophony of sounds and unpleasant cracking noises. The pearls keep breaking, and I keep crying.

Someone brings me a glass of unpleasantly cold water; it runs down my throat like a liquid flame.

I finally took a breath.

“Take me home.” That's all I can say right now. I want to go home, away from the world, away from the sun, and away from the memories.

“She's having a panic attack; she needs air.”

“No! I need to go home.”

“It's OK, sweetheart. I've got you,” Soo purrs, kissing the top of my head like a little baby. She pulls me off the floor with effort, lifting me to my feet.

I look down at the checkered pattern of the marble slabs and at the scattered pearls. In some places, the white slabs are smeared with red, like lipstick smeared by a kiss. This is blood. My blood.

My legs shake like a newborn fawn as Soomin leads me away from this place. Every step was painful, almost more painful than Soo's tight grip on my forearm. “It's okay, Sarang, we're going home.”

It's okay, Sarang.

It's okay.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

“Are you sure you're feeling better?”

“Yeah, I'm fine now.” I squeezed out the shadow of a smile. Apparently it was useless; the look in her eyes remained the same: worried, with fear lurking around the edges. Fear for me.

“How long have you been having these attacks?”

“This is the first time. I guess… I don't know. Let's just say it's a consequence of trauma. I don't want to talk about it.”

“I'm so sorry.” Soo crouched on the edge of the bed, taking my hand gently. I was made of glass; she didn't want to break me or do the opposite by hurting herself on me. “It's so horrible that you have to go through all this, baby.”

“Yes, it is.” What else could I say? I could not have said a word, and everything would have been understood. The wounds under the bandage itched terribly. Long red marks stretched along my collarbones and neck. Mascara was still smeared across my face, as was the soft pink lip gloss. I looked like a mess. I was a mess.

My throat was all dry and thirsty, and my eyes were so swollen I couldn't even open them fully.

“Do you want me to stay with you tonight, love? We can watch a film or something; maybe one of those stupid comedy shows Mina hated. I'll make dinner and open the wine.”

“No need; I'll be fine. Soomin, go home; you should be resting too, not babysitting me. I'm fine, really. I'm feeling better, and I'll definitely get through the night. I'll probably go straight to sleep as soon as you leave.” Much as I loved Soo, I didn't feel like seeing anyone right now.

“If you say so, Please call me in the morning as soon as you wake up, okay?”

“Of course. Be safe, Soo. Love you.” I thought I covered my eyes for only a second before I heard the click of the front door. The mark of her kiss burned on my cheek.

I don't know how many hours I sat like that—completely still, not taking my eyes off the dark landscape outside the window, which was getting brighter now that a little moonlight was seeping through the thick clouds.

I didn't want to get out of bed, drowning in pillows and blankets like a pipe dream. I felt good in my bed. I couldn't understand what exactly had changed, but I could feel the change. Even in the morning, the bed had been cold and lonely, but now the silk under my fingers was warmer and softer to the touch. Even the smell of the blankets seemed to be different, like purple lilies and musk, a scent that remotely reminded me of something very familiar but long forgotten. Could it have been Soo's perfume? No, more like the scent that Yoru always brought with her.

By the way, where did she go? She was here when I left this morning, but knowing her talent for disappearing and reappearing at will, I didn't hold out much hope of seeing her today. It would be nice to have her around now, though.

I rolled onto my side, resting my cheek against the pillow. I didn't want to sleep, but I didn't want to get out of bed either. My gaze settled on the small box that lay on the chair across from the bed. A casket from a storage locker.

After my panic attack, Soomin took it away, since I was apparently incapable of doing so. Next to it was a neat stack of papers with black paint poisonously embedded in them, listing all the possessions I now owned, including Rose Hill, but the most valuable and important thing was kept in this little silver coffin.

The metal walls of the casket shimmered like liquid silver when moonlight hit them. I was mesmerized by this otherworldly glow. Number 0711 - Miss Ahn Mina. Sometimes a lifetime can be folded like origami and placed on a velvet cushion like a collector's item.

I struggled with myself for a few more minutes before I threw back the blankets and got out of bed. My curiosity outweighed my fear. At that moment, I had to remind myself that “curiosity killed the cat,” and if I had been any smarter, I would have thrown the box to hell and never thought of it again.

The box opened silently, and I felt a chill, as if someone had dipped my heart in ice water. There weren't many things in the box—something old, something new, and something blue—all like a wedding tradition. It wasn't like Mina. She had always despised the idea of marriage; the very thought of anyone daring to claim her freedom made her sick.

It wasn't for her, and it wasn't for me.

Weddings are gorgeous, creamy bouquets of fragrant flowers that breathe in the dawn. At the end of a long journey down a narrow church aisle, a handsome prince awaits with the promise of eternal love. As if. Girls, guard your hearts, for they will eat them for breakfast. Piece by piece, like a birthday cake, until there's nothing left to keep you alive.

Then there'll be another, just as naive. And then another, and so on, endlessly. That's all love is. A streak of devil's rubies and eaten hearts.

There was no heart and no love in that box. Just one little piece of paper with torn edges and a handful of precious trinkets. Just one small puzzle piece that had fallen out of a huge and complex picture. I could recognize Mina's handwriting from a million others, but the words written on that little piece of paper were not hers. In each letter lurked something that had never belonged to Mina; her hand had scrawled those lines, but her lips had never uttered those words.

“My only love. My divine Rose, when I leave this world, I will leave you everything you could ever want. When you read this, I will be gone. Everything has been arranged; everything is ready for you. The whole world will belong to you, my love. I took care of it. On the back of this page, I have left the number of my good friend. Please give him a call; he will help you with all the things you need. He'll be waiting for you. He is the only one you can trust, Sarang. Your beloved Mina P.S. Don't forget, love is eternal.”

I flipped the sheet to the other side. The handwriting was the same but so different; the letters were sharp and crumpled, as if they were written in a hurry.

Hongjoong. I had heard that name before. I knew the taste of it on my tongue.

My fingers hurriedly dialed the number; I didn't look at the time, and, to be honest, I didn't care. I wanted to make sure that he was real and that this wasn't another one of her crazy fantasies that would lead me down a blind alley. I needed to know that Hongjoong wasn't fiction but blood and flesh, intermittent breathing, and an unevenly beating pulse.

At the other end of the phone, the long beeps were interrupted, there was a static pause for a second, and then I heard the sleepy and so welcome sound:

“Hello.”

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coffeenonsense · 5 months

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I usually try to stay in my lane most of the time (mostly bc I am far too old for fandom drama) but what the hell, it's friday, let's put that lit degree to use:

the way people are playing morality politics with fiction is really starting to genuinely irk me and I think some of the responses to ascended astarion are a perfect example of why this type of thinking is actually hugely detrimental to one's ability to meaningfully engage with fiction and also to the future of art.

astarion is one of the most well-written complex characters I've seen in recent years bar none (and I'm clearly not alone given the explosion of his personal fandom lol) and he has a truly compelling, emotionally resonant character arc whether you ascend him or not

If you keep him a spawn, you get a deeply touching, realistic character's journey to healing and personal growth where he learns who he is after the experience of his trauma and depending on the player's choice, explores his relationship to sex, romance and intimacy

If you ascend astarion, you get an equally emotional and well-rounded character arc where he chooses the power that allows him to have the desperate freedom and safety he's wanted, but in the process eschews any hope of real healing or personal development, and again, depending on the player's choices, restarts the cycle of abuse by taking cazador's place.

These options offer vastly different paths for the character and experiences for the player, but while yes, ascended astarion is the evil ending, and yes, ascending astarion is a tragedy, and a fucking incredible one (not only do you have astarion reigniting a circle of abuse but you have the narrative weight of KNOWING he could have actually overcome his trauma...hats off to the bg3 team tbh) but that does not mean ascending astarion MAKES YOU AS THE PLAYER EVIL

Ascend astarion because you love tragic story arcs, ascend him because you want to indulge in a master/slave vampire fantasy, don't ascend him because you want a healing character journey, don't ascend him because you want a sweet romance; all of these choices carry the same moral weight for the player, which is to say, none, because they are an exploration of fiction.

I know I'm saying this to the villain fucker website but it bears repeating; just because someone wants to engage with evil, fucked up characters or content does not mean they support evil acts in their real life, and furthermore, exploring dark, taboo or tragic concepts safely is part of what fiction is for. It enables us to look at those things from a distance, work through difficult feelings and develop greater understanding of what makes our fellow humans tick — and before you get it twisted there's also no moral issue with exploring fucked up media bc you're horny or just, because. You can take it as seriously (or as sexily) as you want.

It's starting to really concern me how many people not only do not get, but are violently opposed to this concept, because equating what someone likes in fiction with their real life moral code and actions is an incredibly dangerous and let's be honest, immature way of thinking that not only stunts your ability to engage with fiction but ironically, hampers your ability to deal with complicated issues and emotions in real life.

I don't know what's driving this trend (though purity culture is certainly playing a role) but it's definitely something that's not just impacting individuals but contributing to the commercialization of art, where we get games and stories and tv shows and books that regurgitate the same safe, mass marketable plotlines and character archetypes over and over and over again so corporations can squeeze out as much profit as possible.

Anyway, remember kids: There's no such thing as thought crime, reaching for morally pure unproblematic media is directly contributing to the death of art, and this is why funding the humanities is important.

#so...yeah #idk man i have thoughts and feelings #and i love astarion so much lol #astarion #ascended astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #fandom analysis #media analysis #fiction #a personal rant because i need to vent about this and i just recalled i have a blog where i can indeed do so lol #astarion ancunin

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lilac-hecox · 12 days

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What I Read: Week of May 20th

Okay! So, I haven't done one in a while but I've really been trying to take a lot of joy in what others creator in our fandom so I have a supersized one of sorts for y'all!

Hypothetically Yes (Theoretically Forever) by @xxmoonch1ldxx - Ian/Anthony - Ianthony

Very cute and set around Shayne and Courtney's wedding but with Ian and Anthony talking about whether or not they would individually get married some day and how it sparks up some feelings. Short and sweet!

Fight like cats and dogs by ObsessedSM - Damien/Angel - Damangela

An interesting concept where Angela slowly realizes that she is crushing on Damien and vice versa. Some nice hurt/comfort and a cute support system. (Is in progress last time I checked)

Migraine by HGTV_Rerun -Shayne/Spencer - Shayncer

Short and sweet little hurt/comfort where Spencer has a migraine and Shayne cares for him at the office!

never really said that i loved you too by Anonymous - Angela/Amanda - Amangela

Little bit of miscommunication and hurt/comfort with some fluff and a happy ending! Amanda texts Angela. Angela believes it to be a drunk text.

Lorsque Nos Deux Âmes Se Mêlent by @xxmoonch1ldxx - Ian/Anthony - Ianthony

Spicy fic! Super hot PWP but totally worth a read!! A bottom!Anthony as well!

off to the races (got my love jumpstarted) by Anonymous - Amanda/Angela - Amangela

Crack fic where Amanda and Angela are horses. It is still SO good and Ian and Anthony are farmers??? It's cute! We love a good crack fic!

in another life, you and me were seals by Anonymous - Amanda/Angela - Amangela

Fluffy and sweet little Amangela that is soft and makes you feel good!

always together by @ancientvamp - Shayne/Chanse - Shaynse

A sweet little domestic fic about Shayne and Chanse discussing marriage, kids, all the cute domestic stuff!

outsiders inside the home that we built by smoshbrainrotanon (I believe this author is on tumblr but I can't recall their url off the top of my head so let me know if you know!) -Ian/Anthony - Ianthony

A song!fic but also deals with the emotions of Ian and Anthony during the split and regarding Defy.

Meetings on Memory Lane by TheLoreOfItAll - Ian/Anthony - Ianthony (Again I am pretty sure this author is on tumblr so if you know let me know!)

A fic that is sort of like a retrospective on Ian and Anthony and their memories. It is being updated! Well written and I love Ian's POV especially as a kid.

my only angel by spourtastic - Amanda/Ian - Amandian

It is in progress but a really interesting idea and I am an absolute sucker for anything Amanda and Ian!

A beautiful mess by @japhan2024 - Damien/Anthony - Antmien

Anthony is a vampire and he and Damien have a toxic relationship including the fact that Anthony is hung up on Ian. I love the trope of Anthony being hung up on Ian and the resulting angst of it all!! I also love blood drinking scenes.

A classic mistake by @japhan2024 - Shayne/Spencer -Shayncer

Centered around rehearsals for the Smosh the Sitcom it involves Shayne and Spencer practicing their kissing scene. I love the fact that it is based on the live show!

You Stay On My Mind (Can't Help But Keep You Close) by @xxmoonch1ldxx - Ian/Anthony - Ianthony

Spicy but based on a prompt of "I want to see all of you." and bottom!Ian and it is so sensual and hot at the same time!!!

Driven Batty by @chu-tea - Ian/Anthony -Ianthony

VAMPIRE ANTHONY! Written based on a discussion had in the quad squad server and Chu has a beautiful and familar way of writing that is a joy to read. A slow burn and stretches through the journey of Ian and Anthony's time together. In progress but so, so worth it!

Smosh in the Hunger Games by d_s_t_e - Gen Fic

A take on the Smosh Hunger Games episode but with more humor and written in an interesting script like format. In progress!

Fungi by Wydrochka - Ian/Anthony -Ianthony

The idea of Ian doing magic mushrooms for the first time with Anthony and Anthony caring for him through the trip. I've been craving this idea for so long so I'm glad to have read it!

so no one told you life was gonna be this way by spacetimeinspector - Krungle/Kevin (Ian/Amanda)

Based on the Smosh the Sitcom focusing on the scene where Krungle and Kevin almost kiss. This captures the vibe perfectly and is a really interesting concept!

be with me, alone with me by eunaseo - Amanda/Angela - Amangela

Angst and cheating but I love some good angst where it hurts in the best way possible. Amanda and Angela are in love but because Amanda is married they can't really be together.

you like that? by @bowcrary - Chanse/Tommy - Chommy - Bowcrary

Based around the Smosh the Sitcom. Insanely hot and sensual af like wow! Bottom!Chanse and a bit of a dommy top!Tommy. UGH. So good!!

Flirting With Disaster (Throwing Kisses After) by @xxmoonch1ldxx - Ian/Anthony - Ianthony

A fluff of sorts where Ian and Anthony realize they like each other and there is some mutual jealousy and want on both their sides.

The Beast Inside Of Me, He Knows How To Train A Bad Dog by @xxmoonch1ldxx - Ian/Anthony - Ianthony

Spicy and based on the idea of puppy play with Bottom!Puppy Anthony and a very toppy!Ian. HOT AS ALL HELL.

Previous Weeks!

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wannab-urs · 1 year

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The Spreadsheet Digest - Fic Recs | Vol 7

Howdy, folks! It's time for this week's recap of what I read :)

As always, you can find the spreadsheet here, and you're always more than welcome to tag me in your fic if you'd like to be included. New and old fics both appreciated; anything from a drabble to a 400k word series is fine; and the only Pedro boy I don't really read is Pero Tovar.

Without further ado here are the fics I read this week and the unhinged ramblings of a madwoman (me) to substitute for a coherent recommendation.

One for the money, two for the show a Joel series by @cowgurrrl

Rockstar!Joel AU with such a sweet fake dating trope lead in and then the most delicious yummy angst. As your resident angst whore this was everything because it was so REAL and so fucking heartbreaking. And then the happy little hopeful ending and then all the drabbles and extras??? AH! My favorite part was the lil instagram stories i think <3

sharing is caring a Frankie/Santi one shot by @walkintotheriveranddisappear

Your friend Santi introduces you to his friend Frankie and uhhhh you guys go make a sandwich.

Only Lovers Left Alive a Joel series by @atinylittlepain

I love every single thing about this. Revenge. Vampires. Blood play kind of? Biting. Etc. This shit rocks.

Waiting Room a Joel one shot by @beskarandblasters

I fucking love what kel did with this song. The repetition of one for the road really fuckin got me too. Angst angst angst.

The Special One a Joel series by @toxicanonymity

What if a reluctant soulmates AU was also a vampire!Joel AU? It would be perfect, that's what. I'm loving vampire!joel rn anyway, but this was such a cool twist on it. Also his vibes in this are fucking immaculate

Copycat Killer a Joel series by @beskarandblasters

Bitch this is so good. Stalker!Reader x Rockstar Joel... fucking perfect. I love how they both kind of suck as human beings a little bit. And that blow job oh my GOD.

Sweet Creature a Dieter series by @wildemaven

I really really love how this story is going. The little town is so real to me and I love all the little places we get to see. The bookstore sounds like a DREAM. And I can't wait for Reader to bond with D over art ahhhhh.

Stitches a Din series by @djarinsbeskar

This fic is so fucking good dude. I love the set up for the whole thing and the reader character is really fuckin' cool. The like... 8 consecutive parts of incredible smut that continues to be genuinely interesting and really fucking hot even after like 200K words is extremely impressive. I'm also pretty sucked into the story and the way Medic is being interwoven into canon. Oh and the introspection we get from Din's POV is *chef's kiss*.... anyway pls god finish this story i need it

False God a Frankie series by @swiftispunk

Frankie asking for what he wants is so... yummy... especially when it's wanting to be your subby lil pussy eating king like... PLEASE. And his praise kink??? I am in Frankie heaven

102 a Frankie one shot by @tieronecrush

I fucking love this ahhhh. I felt so bad for Frankie but also their friendship is so cute??? I love the unrequited love//idiots to lovers trope

Safe in my Arms an Ezra one shot by @mishasminion360

Ezra struggling to adjust to having one less limb and me crying about it. This was so fucking good. The raw emotion he feels and reader's unwavering support... the realism in saying something that accidentally hurts his feelings and trying to take over tasks he might find difficult AGH. I love this so much

Leave Off Your Wandering a Joel series by @oonajaeadira

Adira, I fall in love with every single little world you create without fail. This is obviously no exception. Your sheep ranch is a dream. The way you build up this backstory with the Roostlings and the friendship with Tommy and Maria and just all these extra little details you take the time to flesh out and weave into the story... makes my heart sing, friend. I adore this <3

-------- fics i read a while ago and never recommended -------

Name a Javi P one shot by @joelscruff

Consent a Dieter series by @fuckyeahdindjarin

Whiskey, Dark and Deep a Jack one shot by @prolix-yuy

Stay on the Screenplay a Dieter series by jazzelsaur (ao3)

A Safe Haven a Joel series by @joelsgreys

Psychomanteum a Dieter series by @whatsnewalycat

In Name Only an Oberyn series by @forever-rogue

------

I haven't written a word in weeks, so once again no updates for me :/

-----

Happy Reading

#the spreadsheet digest #vol 7 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction #Joel miller x reader #frankie morales x reader #javi peña x reader #Oberyn Martell x reader #Dieter Bravo x reader #Ezra (prospect) x reader #Jack Daniels x reader #din djarin x reader

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trentcrimminallybeautiful · 5 months

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gert's masterlist of 2023 ted lasso fics! which is. all my ted lasso fics lol

there are so many here buckle up

crack/primarily humor fics:

semaphore - rated: G - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted

Four bracelets and thirteen mugs later, Colin might have finally gotten the hint. Because it was directly pointed out by a crowd of himbos, but you know, still! We got there! Right?! Right?!

birds of a feather - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Trent & Colin (Gen)

Colin notices Trent's mug, alright. (Or: Trent's increasingly less subtle attempts at broadcasting that he is a Safe Person and Also Queer do reach Colin, but Colin gets the wrong message.) (It could be worse. He could have thought Trent was flirting.)

exercising restraint - rated: E - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted; ft Diamond Dogs

Following a fun and informative encounter with his favorite ex-journalist, Ted has a rather uncomfortable meeting with the Diamond Dogs. Featuring: Trent Crimm and the be-catted bag, Leslie Higgins knowing a lot about BDSM, Roy Kent being the world's most unwilling participant in this conversation, and Beard being Beard.

☆ Ted Lasso Kisses Trent Crimm On The Mouth - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted; Richmond Ensemble

In the locker room, Coach Lasso kisses their resident emotional support biographer, casual-as-you-please, and then leaves like nothing happened. Chaos ensues and the entirety of the club somehow gets involved. Trent wishes for the sweet release of death.

a preacher, a bikini, and a kiss or two - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted; Diamond Dogs, ft Will

The Diamond Dogs discuss first kisses. This leads to… a series of events sure does happen. And did happen.

☆ Rupert Mannion Is Batman (He Isn't) - rated: M - chapters: 13/13 - Trent/Ted; Richmond Ensemble

A series of bizarre, loosely related events occur, all kicked off by Trent absently mentioning that he may or may not have once hooked up with Rupert Mannion.

☆ painting the town richmond blue - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted; Trent's ex-wife

Ted Lasso unexpectedly runs into a very drunk Trent Crimm (the Independent), along with his equally drunk ex-wife. They're having a GREAT time. Ted is… pulled along for the ride.

Trent and the Vampire! - rated: M - chapters: 1/1 - Trent & Colin; Trent/Ted

Trent has a truly stupid amount of hickeys to hide thanks to SOMEONE. (Ted is unrepentant and he WILL do it again.)

The Portal Incident™ - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted; Press Room

It's a lovely day in the Richmond press room, and you are a horrible portal.

best seat in the office - rated: E - chapters: 6/6 + an additional snippet - Trent/Ted; Roy and Beard - note: some chapters lean more Smut, Angst, etc

Trent has many problems (chronically low self-esteem, deeply hopeless crush on co-worker, being helplessly attracted to said co-worker) and the bizarre lack of chairs ain't one. He can just sit on his desk—he's sat in stranger places. That is, until Ted somewhat jokingly offers his lap as a replacement. Trent immediately falls off the desk. For additional snippet: In which Ted just asked.

the two ring circus - rated: M - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted; Diamond Dogs

[sent] – Lara, do you remember being lectured on the dangers of peer pressure? lara<3 – Aw has someone offered you a cigarette :) [sent] – a large swathe of richmond staff is trying to make me get nipple piercings :( lara<3 – trent what the fuck does that mean

snippets:

The Thumbs Up Saga - [part one] [part two] - Trent & OCs; ft Trent/Ted

of throuples and genders - Ted/Trent/Rebecca; ft Roy/Keeley/Jamie

Ted Kisses Trent In Front Of A Business Of Journalists For Probably Just Mischief Reasons - Trent/Ted

Trent's into how much of a bastard Ted is unfortunately - Pre Trent/Ted

Similar to that one: Trent's into Ted cursing (specifically in how much of a bastard he is about it) unfortunately - Pre Trent/Ted

☆ A weird alternate meeting/pre-canon meet-cute - [main] [additional snippet] - Trent/Ted; Beard [POV Outsider for second one]

Trent embarrasses himself in front of Michelle and it's cute - Ted/Trent; Michelle

☆ Ridiculous FMK Games - Diamond Dogs; ft Trent/Ted (could be interpreted as some combination of Ted/Trent/Roy/Beard if you want); also ft Colin

oops rebecca made them kiss - Trent/Ted; Rebecca [season one!]

Trent Crimm Is Fuckable! Everyone Agrees - Trent/Ted; Ensemble

Check time travel AUs section for those lol

smut fics (Rated E)

the best ones; primarily smut

☆☆ off the record - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted

Intrepid reporter Trent Crimm earns his scoop.

☆☆ trick & treat - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted

In which a relatively harmless prank causes everyone at the Richmond Halloween party to be somewhat transformed into their Halloween costume. The charm is supposed to be fun. And it is! Really, it is! It's just that it really is effected by your mindset and by what you like about the costume, and Trent is--well, Trent's leaving the party early. He swears he wasn't thinking about this when he chose his costume. It's just. He saw Ted's costume and a few fantasies may have gotten away from him a little. Which would have been harmless, had it not been for all this. OR: Some deeply, deeply silly and contrived Halloween smut. Read the tags for more details.

☆ snippet: embarrassing venom au - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted

Uh oh sisters it's the deeply embarrassing CRACK VENOM AU NO ONE ASKED FOR!! Everyone clap and cheer Trent has an alien inside him if ya know what i m--

snippet: "desperation" + sub trent - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted

diversity win! your journalist is now a sub [For the prompt "Desperation"]

a wonderful wreck - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted

Ted, while tipsy as hell, realizes he's bisexual, has a drunken hookup with Trent Crimm, wakes up, and then is… weirdly chill about all of this, considering.

sweeter than heaven (hotter than hell) - chapters: 1/4 - Trent/Ted

Trent has a hard time letting go--at least, letting go completely. He learns a little at a time. Or: 3 times Trent is on top, one way or another, and 1 time he gets utterly railed.

other works:

snippet: coach sandwich - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted/Beard - CRACK

Beard joins Ted and Trent for a threesome in the funniest, stupidest way possible.

☆ an odd sort of comfort - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted - Kinda angsty/pensive but sweet

There's a fantasy Trent has that he tries not to touch. He fails.

oh, in the strangest dreams - chapters: 1/1 + additional Roy POV - Trent/Ted - CRACK

Ted and Trent are both feeling weird about all the extremely vivid sex dreams they keep having about each other, completely unaware of the fact they are, in fact, the same dreams. Shenanigans ensue.

some specific AUs/groups

time travel AU snippets:

s3 Roy & s1 Trent - Serious; Angst - Trent & Roy

s3 Roy & s3 Trent; ft Press Room - Crack/Humor - Trent & Roy

s3 counterparts confuse s1 counterparts - Ensemble (Trent, Ted, Beard, Roy, Rebecca); ft Trent/Ted

☆☆ superhero AU - Trent/Ted; ft Beard:

Main fic

Ted POV

just specifically ships other than Trent/Ted:

snippet: ROY IS NOT TRENT'S SUGAR DADDY SHUT THE FUCK UP - rated: E - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Roy

"I can't believe Roy Kent is your sugar daddy," his ex-wife says, and he flings an aptly named throw pillow at her. Which she dodges with a cackle.

see aforementioned snippet: of throuples and genders - Ted/Trent/Rebecca (ft Jamie/Roy/Keeley)

basically crack wherein these two groups make jokes about gender among other things

also see aforementioned snippet: coach sandwich - Ted/Trent/Beard

Beard joins Ted and Trent for a threesome in the funniest, stupidest way possible.

☆ "caught in the middle" - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Ted/Trent/Beard

Uh oh, there's only one bed! Ft. Trent desperately needing a hug.

☆ "helpless in a game of kisses" - rated: M - chapters: 1/1 - Ted/Trent/Beard

Ted and Beard argue over who is a better kisser, as homies do. Trent is somehow made the referee. Surely this won't be weird at all. Or: How to break Trent Crimm's heart with seven simple kisses. And fix it with a few more.

primarily angst/more serious fics (generally happy endings)

☆☆ matters of the heart - rated: E - chapters: 2/2 (will be a series) - Trent & Everyone; Trent/Ted - somewhat angsty, character study

5 times someone had sex with Trent Crimm and it made him feel worse, and 1 time it actually felt good.

☆ lost sight of (who you are)- rated: T - chapters: 1/2 - will be Trent/Ted in ch 2 - somewhat angsty, character study. My first TL fic, written before s3

Trent Crimm, and becoming, and unbecoming, and becoming again. Or: Eventually, Trent writes a book. No, not that one.

☆ ink sunset - rated: T - chapters: 3/4 - Trent/Ted

Letters, unsent and sent, between Trent Crimm and Ted Lasso over the years.

☆☆ I WANTED TO BE LOVED SO DESPERATELY / THAT MY FINGERS SHOOK WITH IT - rated: T - chapters: 2/2 - Trent/Ted

Trent, and being sick, and being sick alone.

☆ make a mess of you - rated: T - chapters: 2/2 - Trent/Ted

Ted is drunk, and sad, and he really likes Trent Crimm. This cannot end well.

betrayal's sting / absolution's balm - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Ted & Everyone (Gen)

Five times Ted forgives someone… and one time he doesn't.

something to get off my chest - rated: T - chapters: 3/3 - Ted & Trent & Roy (Gen)

Three perspectives on the scene in the locker room.

to have hope - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Trent & Colin; Will (Gen)

Will overhears a conversation between Trent and Colin.

other fics

☆ moonlit - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted

Trent wakes up snuggled close with one Ted Lasso. And immediately overthinks it.

two (not) pieces of shit - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Trent & Colin (Gen)

In many ways, Trent's sort of become a mentor to Colin. But Colin has some things to teach Trent, too.

☆☆ being right - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Pre Trent/Ted - episode tag

Trent's opinion of Ted Lasso goes from utterly dismal, to slowly wearing down into something generally negative but with an edge of reluctantly impressed, to, abruptly, turning on a dime, something glowing.

off the handle - rated: T - chapters: 3/3 - Trent/Ted

Ted lets himself be angry, kisses the man of his dreams, accidentally makes said man of his dreams cry, acquires a boyfriend, and smashes some shit with Trent Crimm in a parking lot at 3 am. Not in that order. No one ask where Coach Beard got those mugs. (The man of his dreams, the acquired boyfriend, and Trent Crimm all happen to be the same person. This is a surprise to no one but Ted and Trent Crimm himself.)

creme, dough, and other jars - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - pre Trent/Ted - primarily humor

Ted receives an unexpected voice message from one Trent Crimm. At 3 am. About a jar of marshmallow crème.

linger - rated: G - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted; Rebecca

Rebecca comes to see why Ted hasn't gotten off the team bus yet.

some small comfort - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted

Trent finds Ted having a panic attack in the coaches' office.

☆ wayward thoughts - rated: G - chapters: 1/1 - Trent & Ted (Gen, but could be pre Trent/Ted)

Ted reads Trent's article, and lets his thoughts wander.

the dregs at the bottom of the glass - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Pre Trent/Ted (could be interpreted as Gen)

Trent tells Ted a story. Or: Trent, throughout his life, has realized over and over again that his parents actually Weren't Great, Actually. This is one of those times.

snippets:

truth liquor/confession - Trent & Press Room; mentioned Trent/Ted

Trent crushing his own recorder - Trent & Colin/Richmond Players (Gen)

Touch-starved Jamie - Gen; mention of past Keeley/Jamie - one of my few (only??) non Trent fics lol

Trent & Jamie talk about shitty dads - Gen

Michelle briefly meets Trent - Michelle & Trent, Michelle & Ted, ft eventual Trent/Ted

the fox & the wolf (Trent telling a fairy tale) - Trent & Roy & Colin; ft implied unrequited Trent/Ted

☆ the prince and the wyrm - (Trent telling a fairy tale but in a wildly different way to the last one) - Trent/Ted

☆ brief selkie snippet - implied Trent/Ted

snippet from a rom-com AU - Trent/Ted; Press Room

three voicemails/POV outsider - Trent/Ted; Lloyd the journo

high noon over richmond - Pre Trent/Ted; ft Beard

☆☆ second impressions (Ted's POV on Trent very early on in canon) - Gen, pre Trent/Ted)

☆☆ biting is a love language - Trent & Everyone; Trent/Ted

not the most romantic first "i love you" but very funny - Trent/Ted

mixed signals - Trent/Ted

They're both in need of a hug - Trent/Ted

Yet another silly Bantr reveal sort of fic - Trent/Ted (currently all text, should be expanded on)

some sneak peaks at wips i'm working on now (UNPOSTED and UNFINISHED, hence no links):

A Deeply Unfortunate Pre-Canon Roy/Trent Hookup

a very bizarre and somewhat smutty tedependent au involving a temple and some surprisingly sad shenanigans

Uh Oh It's The Ted/Trent/Roy/Beard Fic (Extremely E-Rated)

a terrifying mermaid-adjacent tedependent au

a cinderella-esque tedependent fic

a knight and wizard tedependent au

roytrent: romcommunism gone wrong au

Mistletoe Kiss (yeah this one's late)

Rebecca and Keeley Play Matchmaker For Trent and Ted. Oops

a crack addition to that superhero au

Most Of The Diamond Dogs Take Being Supportive Friends To A New Extreme

roytrent ensues. keeley gets to watch. everyone is pleased

one day i'll finish the fic about the other reporters drunkenly daring trent to seduce ted. one day

and MORE.

#trent crimm #ted lasso #tedependent #tedtrent #ted x trent #roytrent #tredbeard #my writing

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