#the opening notes play and i have already ascended

[transmascwillbyers]

Okay, hot(ish) take time: While I love Anti-Hero and think it describes Mike almost perfectly, another byler song from Midnights that deserves infinitely more love is High Infidelity. It describe the whole Mike/Will/El triangle in S4 from Mike's POV so well it's almost eerie, and the best part is, it can pretty much be interpreted as either a milkvan breakup song or byler angst, depending on how you look at it. It's just such a beautiful song and you need to stop sleeping on it okay?

[tripleyeeet]

WEAVED TOGETHER (SAY IT'S FOREVER)

SUMMARY: After faking your death years ago, Astarion finally finds you in Waterdeep.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 5,128

WARNINGS: 18+ sexual content, fingering, orgasm denial, sex used as a manipulation tactic, biting, blood sucking, descriptions of past/current abuse, Ascendent Astarion (feel like I need to tag this just in case), a whole lot of angst.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This fic gave me so much grief. I really hope my labour translates into something good because man, if it doesn't I might fucking cry. :') Also, fic title is inspired this bop!

MASTERLIST

-

You’ve never been particularly keen on parties. Favouring quite possibly anything above the stuffy insides of a ballroom packed with people, it’s a miracle that you haven’t already left Gale’s side for some air. To take even the shortest of moments to allow yourself some alone time. 

Feeling the fabric of your dress uncomfortably stick to your skin, you can’t help but squirm at the thought of having to stay any later. Considering you’ve been here for a good few hours already, you’re tempted to ask Gale if maybe now’s the time to part ways.

At this point you’ve been well and truly shown off to the entire party, gawked at by countless of his old academic friends, so surely he wouldn’t mind if you up and left now, right?

Before you can think to ask, he’s already wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in for a friendly kiss to the cheek. “I really do appreciate you coming,” he tells you, drunkenly swaying as he speaks, letting out a chuckle as you hold him steady. “I would’ve been terribly embarrassed to show up at such a renowned event without a date.” 

“So you’ve mentioned.” You shoot him a smug look, watching him roll his eyes and take a sip of wine, debating whether or not to take the glass from him, knowing just how much he’s had.

“I mean it, you’ve been nothing short of wonderful to me in my time of need, so thank you.”

Despite the urge to play down his thanks, to remind him of all the things he’s done for you as of late, you merely take it, offering him a quick you’re welcome in return, knowing just how persistent a drunken Gale can get. How the man hardly pauses to breathe in the midst of a conversation —his endless string of words seeming to lose you almost instantly every time. 

Even now, as he begins to go on some long-winded speech about the importance of your friendship, you’re already miles away, longing to drift towards the balcony that rests just across the room, taunting you with its open air and lack of people. 

“Anyways, would you care for another drink? I’m in need of one myself thanks to the hole at the bottom of my glass.” Pulling you back in, Gale lets out a joyous laugh, throwing his head back while you merely shake your head.

“I’m uh, no I’m fine Gale. You go ahead and get that drink. I think I’m going to head outside and get some air.” 

All he does is give you a tight hug before he leaves, stumbling across the marble floors, bumping into various bodies that suddenly get caught up in his inebriated storm, allowing you a moment to yourself. 

You let out a sigh of relief then, turning your attention to your desired spot, gathering up the skirt of your dress so that you can race to its opening, breathing in the scent of fresh air once you step past the threshold.  

Somehow once you’re out there, you notice that there isn’t a body in sight. No couples having late-night trysts in the corner or other lonesome individuals stood painfully reflecting on their night. It’s just you by yourself, walking slowly towards the railing, gripping it tight as you allow your mind to settle. To shut down for just a moment after being on for so long.

It feels like forever since you’ve felt this calm. After years of endless journeys —of fighting and running and, as of late, hiding away— you feel that old sense of ease wash over you. Like the waves of Waterdeep’s coast, they gently lap at your feet, rising and falling with each breath you take, watching from afar the bustling city streets below as they begin to die out for the night. 

It reminds you of home, a bit. Of the nights you used to spend wandering around Baldur’s Gate, your belly full of the cheapest ale and your mind empty of anything other than the prospect of fun. Back then, you were always full of reckless abandon, constantly getting into trouble only to talk your way out of it not long after and unfortunately, you can’t help but begin to miss it all. The life before the war. Before you were taken in the dead of night and forced into a life you never wanted to live. 

Things were simpler then. You didn’t have the scars of clashing swords or the kind of memories that often shook you awake each night, covered in sweat and gasping for air. Devoid of anything truly awful, all you had was the blissful ignorance of a fool. One hellbent on solitude in a world of constant interaction. 

Honestly, if it weren’t for the people you’d met along the way you’d be jealous of that life. The one where you were seemingly untouchable, your mind vacant of regret and resentment and—

Before you can continue, you shake those same feelings from your mind, forcing out a heavy breath as you try to maintain the calm. The ocean of waves of Waterdeep pooling between your toes, knowing it’s the only way you’ll move on. If you focus on the positives —if you refuse to look back even for the slightest of moments you’ll forget all about those other lives you lived. All the chapters you spent haphazardly scribbling down, trying desperately to get to this moment.

It seems impossible sometimes, remembering how much shit you had to go through to get here. Not only did you have to survive countless wars involving mind flayers and cultists, but you also had to die to get it. And not die in the metaphorical sense, either. No, you had to literally die —to off yourself in front of countless people and hope to god the Necromancer that you hired actually turned up. 

It was a whole process. One that you refuse to think about as you let out a scoff and raise your hands to your head, pressing two fingers to either temple to relieve yourself of the sudden ache that hits. 

“Remember what we said about thinking,” you remind yourself then, allowing your eyes to slowly roll back, savouring the alleviated pressure your fingers provide.

Repeating the mantra in your head, you rub your skin and hum aloud, standing for a few more minutes as you listen to the sounds of the bustling party behind you. How the music swells into a crescendo of excitement, various strings and woodwinds all playing in time with one another. 

Alongside it, a calming voice echoes over, rising and falling with each passing note that carries through the air to your ears. At first, it’s soft and silky —comforting in a way that wills you to drop your hands and take a few steps towards the entrance of the building, watching as a beautifully freckled bard strums her lute and smiles at the crowd. 

Suddenly intrigued, you move to your previous spot inside the ballroom, spotting a rather awestruck Gale who’s holding onto two glasses of red, staring with widened eyes.

“She’s rather pretty.” You grin wickedly and bump your hip against his, hearing him grunt as he blinks and glances at you. 

“I’m sorry?”

Taking the glass nearest to you, you then use that same hand to motion to the bard that’s begun to erupt in an upbeat chorus, her voice lowering to a wild growl as she kicks up her feet, dancing around the stage with some of the other musicians. “The bard. Fancy a taste?”

He narrows his eyes at you, a grin of his own peeling across his face as he shakes his head. “I think a conversation would suffice. Least, for starters.” 

Biting your bottom lip, you jokingly wrap your arm around his shoulders and shake, pressing your face against his cheek to make obnoxious kissing sounds that leave him laughing and shoving you off. 

“Unhand me, you harlot!” 

“What? Afraid she’ll see?” 

He opens his mouth, almost offended, staring for a moment as you wiggle your brows and take a sip of the wine. “Excuse you, that was my drink.”

“You got yourself two drinks?” You raise your brow.

He scrunches up his face in response before subtly craning his neck towards the other side of the ballroom. “No, it’s for Astarion.” 

Your stomach sinks at the mention of his name, filling you with the kind of dread you’ve only felt one other time in your life. All at once it sends you into a panic. Your chest aching and your throat tightening. Even your hands, once carefully wrapped around the vessel of liquid seemingly shifts to a close, resulting in shattering glass that pokes and prods your skin before it falls to the ground. 

Crying out in surprise, Gale’s previously mischievous expression quickly fades. Replacing it, an air of worry envelopes the both of you. As he reaches for your arm, allowing his hand to carefully slide down to view your newfound injury, you try to swallow and scan the room, picking apart face after face to no avail, wondering if somehow he’s already found you. If perhaps, instead of where Gale assumes he is he’s instead directly behind you, lingering like the creature of the night he is, waiting to strike. 

A shaky breath escapes you then. Peeling away from Gale’s cautious grasp, you take a minute to blink and look him up and down, noticing the growing fear in his eyes. How his lack of understanding only spurs your head to whip behind you, to find more curious eyes staring back. 

“Are you alright?” 

The question comes from a voice you’ve never heard before. So, instead of entertaining it you merely turn back to Gale, suddenly catching an unfortunate glimpse of pale skin and ivory hair quite a ways back. 

Immediately, it strengthens the dread inside, ripping the breath from your lungs as you press a nervous hand to your neck, realizing that somehow it’s already been years since you’ve last seen him. Months and days and hours all collectively bundled together, only to be completely ruined by this one moment.

As you stand there, staring —watching as he does nothing but the same, you feel your mind yelling for you to run. To discard whatever reservations you may have left to push violently through the crowd because, at this rate, it’s the only option left. Having already tried hiding beneath the freezing hands of Death himself, it’s obvious you’ve exhausted all other options. No matter what you do —what you say— nothing will be deemed feasible enough to grant you the escape you so foolishly desire. You’re too vulnerable now, standing there in your ballroom gown, bleeding from your injured hand, trying not to have a full-blown panic attack as he takes that first stride forward. 

Matching his step, you feel your body waver backwards, everything suddenly swirling across your vision as Gale reaches out to grab your arm, asking if you’re okay.

“I’m aware the breakup wasn’t amicable but maybe if you two just talk?” he suggests, his voice bouncing off your ears like a war drum, reminding you that Sufferance is coming. And that he’s dressed in his fanciest suit to mark the occasion, practically gliding through the room with knitted brows and frowning lips, pushing aside everybody who gets in his way. 

“Gale, we —I need to go.”

Suddenly your palm, still filled with glass pushes against his robes, staining the fabric as your blood begins to drip, reminding you of his hunger —of the way he used to feed. How he took and took, ignoring your starvation for something other than submission. Refusing to acknowledge the withering of your soul each day you spent wrapped around his pretty little fingers.  

As he shoves a woman to the ground, you can feel the emptiness within your stomach start to grow at the memory. The shuddering of your limbs driving Gale to look behind him, noticing the wild look in Astarion’s eyes as the crowd begins to part in fear, watching as he bares his teeth. 

It’s a look that makes you instantly flinch. Closing your eyes, your shoulders rise to touch your ears in anticipation. Waiting for the moment to strike, you all but freeze in place, holding your breath as the steps of his boots draw near, reverberating through the air until they suddenly stop.

In fact, everything stops. The sound of him —the sound of the party. All of it falls onto deaf ears, creating a new fear that has you so terrified you merely stand in place until you eventually hear the clapping sound of a hand on someone’s back, followed by the swirling of your head again, forcing your eyes to jolt open. 

“Oh, hello darling, didn’t see you there.”

Once again trying to breathe, you glance between the two men in confusion, watching as they share a lengthy embrace before Astarion’s pushing himself onto you. Gentler than expected, his arms slowly wrap around your shoulders as he does it, pulling you to his chest in a way that feels both frightening and familiar. A mix of home and hell encased around your nervous frame as he lowers his head to yours. 

In response, you reluctantly raise your hands and place them on his back, applying a bit of pressure at the centre as you mutter out a muddled hi, looking to see that the commotion he so violently caused before seems to have evaporated into thin air. 

“You’re awfully far from home, aren’t you?” His voice is barely above a whisper, ghosting against the shell of your ear as you force out a shaky breath.

“So are you.”

“I wonder why that is.”

You hum in response. Using the short moment of silence that’s granted to stare. To watch the way he looks you up and down, the edges of his lips pulling into a smirk of amusement. 

It’s obvious then that he’s thinking of playing tricks. Of taunting and teasing —using all the usual charming tactics before he decides it’s worth it to raise a little hell. 

Because of this, you merely swallow hard and spare Gale a glance, watching him magic away the bloodstain on his robes before looking back towards the stage. 

“How did you find me?”

Astarion reaches for your chin. Taking hold of it with his thumb and forefinger, he then waits patiently for you to share his gaze, looking your face up and down until he can finally see the fear in your eyes. “Does it really matter?” 

It does, but you know he won’t tell you so you move on to another question. “Why are you here then?” 

Immediately he scoffs, the smirk on his face falling for a split second. “Do you really have to ask?” he says, letting his thumb run across the length of your bottom lip. “Obviously, I’ve come to enjoy a spot of red with old friends.”

“Hm.”

“Among other things, of course.” 

“Like?” 

“Reclaiming my dead consort, for one.”

“And two?” 

He shrugs his shoulders as he taps your chin. “Not sure. Depends on how the night goes.” 

You’re not sure what to say then. Growing increasingly lost to the feeling of his hands and voice —remembering all the moments shared when it was just him and you and the power imbalance of ascension hadn’t yet existed— all you can do is pull him in a bit tighter. 

Knowing that Gale is probably growing more curious by the second, you suddenly feel a sense of protection. An urge to get rid of him so that he’s no longer at risk. 

Well aware of the power Astarion now holds within his grasp, you know it’s hardly worth it to try and get him involved anyway, especially considering how much alcohol he’s consumed. The poor man couldn’t be helpful even if he tried, so instead of asking you merely hold on. Tightening your grip as the other parts of you desperately try to rationalize just how much you’ve missed this. How even after years spent fleeing his hold —years of constant moving and hiding and watching your back for signs of his presence— his touch is still the only thing that makes you feel safe.

Which is a fact that makes you sick to your stomach, discovering that, regardless of being able to name a million reasons why you should be fleeing rather than falling, suddenly you’re able to name just as much for why you’d stay. Why you’d more than willingly follow his footsteps if he asked. 

And not because you fear him, no. Despite having just been found out —despite that growing uncertainty of how you’ll inevitably be taken back— it’s as if your mind resets on impact. As he holds you close, speaking in obvious threats to your safety if you don’t listen, you can feel the defiance in you quickly dwindle. Evaporating into thin air as he leans away to give Gale an overly friendly smack to the shoulder. 

“Gale, darling, you wouldn’t mind giving us a bit of privacy would you? Seems we have much to discuss.” 

The hold he has on you tightens as he speaks, reminding you that such a conversation is anything but optional as Gale almost immediately buggers off, drunkenly mumbling something about drinks and fun before Astarion’s whisking you away. 

Leading you through a crowd of bodies, you quickly find your hand gripping his shoulder absentmindedly. All splayed out, your fingers nervously caress the fabric of his doublet, feeling the texture shift beneath your skin, reminding you that he’s here. That’s he’s present and real and not just some illusion conjured up to scare you into coming back. 

“Your entrance back there was…” 

You’re not sure what to say anymore. Not with the underlying rage you can feel radiating off of him. Given the fact that it’s been so long, you’ve almost forgotten how to please him. To make his mind ease into those old spaces of pity where sometimes he’d grant you reprieve amongst the punishment. 

Knowing this, he looks at you with feigned innocence, taunting you with his still raised lip as though he’s having fun despite slowly inching towards the blowout. “Did you like it? I figured, it’s been so long since I’ve last toyed with that little mind of yours, best to give it a proper show.” 

He wipes his thumb across your forehead and watches you frown; your head suddenly darting back only to be ripped forward when that same hand tightens around your throat.

All at once the action leaves you gasping for air. As his thumb presses down on the centre of your neck, applying just enough pressure to pull from you a nervous wheeze as the two of you stop, he can’t help but lower his face to yours. 

“I’d consider yourself lucky that the temperament I showed back there was merely an illusion,” he tells you, pressing his forehead to yours.

Swallowing to no avail, you feel the lump in your throat become pressurized by the growing frustrations in his hand. Prompting you to panic, another airless sound emits from your lips as your eyes begin to dart around, looking at all the curious eyes that seemingly look away the second you make contact. 

You realize then that nobody cares. Whether it’s due to the intimidating presence he exudes or the potential word of mouth of his ascendance circulating the room, you don’t care, knowing it doesn’t really matter anyway. He’s untouchable regardless. A force so unmovable that all you can do is pray that he’s merciless. 

As he grips your throat amongst a sea of avoidant faces, unwavering in his efforts to patronize your past behaviours, you know then that this marks the end of your freedom. That from this moment on his control over you has been reenacted without discussion. 

“Now, are we going to obey and have a nice evening or are we going to do something we might regret?” 

Looking back at him, all you can do is nod, feeling that alleviation slowly come. Granting you the chance to breathe again, you cough quietly and reach for your throat, rubbing the pain away as you watch his previously aggressive demeanour fall into amusement, once again stringing you along. 

At which point you effectively zone out. Still feeling his hand flush against the small of your back, it’s as if suddenly your mind becomes null, avoiding all thoughts as he leads you through the main entry of the ballroom, turning down a seemingly endless stream of corridors until you find yourself face to face with an ornate door. 

Once there, he peels away from your frame and begins to pick the lock, wickedly grinning at you once that familiar click rings out, reminding you of the old him. Of how he was before the ritual, all doe-eyed and excited to experience the world and all its gifts. 

It makes your lip pull between your teeth nervously, seeing him unbend the length of his back to look at you. To smirk in a way that feels so real and him that you almost forget that he’s changed. That, instead of picking the lock to loot the room and make charming little jokes at your expense, he’s doing it so he can get you alone. So that he can do unspeakable things the old Astarion would never think to do.

“Shall we?” 

His voice rings out like a request even though you know deep down it’s a command, secretly telling you to hurry up. So, doing just that, you brush past him without so much as a glance, taking in the endless wall of books that greets you as you enter, opening your mouth in slight awe until the door closes behind you. 

Turning back, you’re then given all but a second before he’s on you. Grabbing you with such violent desperation, a hand snakes around your waist, claiming you like he used to do when you were still devoted to being his. When this idea of free will was nothing more than a passing thought that barely grazed the surface.

Back when he was still yours. 

Immediately, the familiarity of it wreaks havoc on your chest. Your heart, once filled with longing and fear now radiates nothing but need. Demanding that old sensation of flesh brushing against flesh as his other hand takes hold of the base of your neck.

The second you feel it, all thoughts are lost. Every previous reservation you once had melting into nothing against the hot feeling of your mouth pushing against his, prying open both lips to taste his tongue. To remind yourself of what it felt like to be wanted in the simplest sense. 

Deepening the kiss, he moans and somehow pulls you closer, forcing your chests together as he maneuvers you backwards, stumbling over a raised edge of a rug before practically tossing you onto the floor. 

“Years,” he groans then, pulling away to stare down at you with knitted brows and swollen lips, distracting you with that pretty face as he begins to rip the bodice of your dress. “I’ve spent years without this flesh —without this blood.” 

His fingers pry at the fabric, peeling back the only layer you have to hide behind until you’re left exposed from the waist up, anxiously breathing at the sight of his hunger. 

A sight that leaves you helpless beneath his grasp as he quickly leans forward, palming one breast while holding your face with the other. Beneath him, all you’re able to do is take each touch as it comes, savouring the uncharacteristic softness as his thumb brushes against your nipple, teasing it with gentle swipes as he goes in for another kiss.

Similar to his hands, there’s a strange feeling that comes along with it. As he nibbles your bottom lip, choosing to give you control, you know that something’s off. That instead of displaying the softest version of him you’ve felt in years, he should be punishing you with reckless brutality. Taking what’s rightfully his without so much as a thought.

Because of this, you reluctantly pull away, gasping for air as he hovers above you, still stroking your chest and face. 

“Why are you doing this?”

Normally, such a question would result in some sort of punishment. A night of solitary confinement. Perhaps the silent treatment for up to a week. 

Back before you realized just how fucked up everything had gotten he used to isolate you for things as simple as this. Forcing everyone around to ignore your every waking move, he found that loneliness was the key to your obedience. The only way to control whatever reckless thoughts entered your mind. 

So, it’s surprising when he answers —when he lowers his mouth to give your lips one final kiss before flashing that smirk. “What do you mean?” 

You raise your brow and move to sit up, leaning against your elbows as your face contorts in confusion. “Why are you acting like him?”

“You mean me?” 

You open your mouth to respond —to fight against his words, knowing now more than ever that you should. Considering the door’s already open for conversation, you might as well get all your thoughts out while you’re able. Because after this it’s apparent, you’ll be stuck all over again, wasting away at the foot of a God who’s anything but forgiving. 

“You aren’t punishing me.” 

“I’m not.” 

“Why?”

His hand explores your face, swiping across skin that hasn’t felt a single touch since your departure. “There’s always time for punishment —for penance,” he tells you, tracing your features with featherlight strokes that have you begging for more as you push yourself upward. “Now that I have you again, there’s far more important things I want before I subject you to what you deserve.” 

“Which is?” 

He pauses for a while, continuing his ministrations in a way that has you forgetting why you left in the first place. Why, instead of subjecting yourself to the torment of his hand to feel the grace that often coincides, you decided to give it all up. 

“I haven’t quite decided yet.” 

It’s a simple statement, yet it holds far too much weight against your ears. As he speaks, your heart flutters in your chest nervously, reminding you that this thing between you is nothing more than an imbalance. A tipping scale so unevenly distributed that you’ve lost all hope for rebalance. 

Because of this, you don’t fight him when he inevitably leans forward. Nor when he presses a slightly rougher kiss to your lips, biting down with a newfound vigour that splits your lip in half. Feeling the blood pool out, you hardly react when Astarion’s lips begin to suckle the wound, lapping up whatever spills through as he rips away the rest of your clothes, tossing it all aside.

Suddenly cold, you find your arms rising to hold him all over again. Wanting to feel the fabric of his clothes pressing against your bare skin, you grip him tight and groan, relishing in this moment. Enjoying the familiarity of it as something warm blooms across your aching core, fuelling the need for your hips to slightly buck up, making him laugh. 

Light and airy, the sound filters through your mouth like smoke, taking hold of your lungs in a way that leaves you addicted. Wanting to chase that past feeling, your hands swiftly lower to his waist, your fingers tucking themselves under his clothes to touch the texture of his scar —to feel the old him amongst all the new. 

Realizing this, his movements become suddenly erratic. Forcing himself up with a grin, he then begins to quickly trail down your body, pressing his mouth to every exposed bit within his sightline, making sure to glance up at your heavy eyes and parted lips along the way. 

“Mm, still as desperate as ever, my little consort,” he tuts. 

Between the kisses he places to your freshly bruised flesh, he releases another laugh that lingers in your mind, further reminding you of him. Of the man you fell in love with. Of the man who swiftly slips between your thighs with little notice, raising the backs to rest against his shoulders. 

A sound of shock escapes your lips at the new position, craning your neck to watch him latch onto your inner thigh, suckling the plush through such a guttural moan that it forces your jaw to drop.

“Fucking hell,” you mumble then, prompting his lips to curl into a grin before he’s biting your thigh, forcing his teeth through the tender flesh before you can even think to object.

It feels better than you remember. Almost like a hot flash of pleasure before that familiar coldness kicks in, numbing the space that he suckles with haste. As his lips hollow out to drink whatever he can get, you feel his hand slip against your entrance, knuckles grazing the outer folds of your sex just right. 

Bucking your hips again, you feel his movements become one. Each time his tongue licks up, his fingers raise to the top of your cunt, flowing back down in such delicious unison you’re already ready to submit. To surrender yourself to whatever pleasures might await through the pain of your punishment.

So much so that you’re already begging for it. Through gasps that barely hit his ears, your voice whines for more. For more pressure or movement or frankly, whatever the hell he’s willing to give despite how undeserving you are.

“Please, Astarion.”

The moment he hears that little please he’s pulling away, grinning at you with teeth and tongue all covered in your blood. 

“I’m sorry, you want me to please you?”

He gently pushes two fingers into your entrance, curling the ends ever so slightly while keeping them still, watching as you press your lips together, unable to speak.

“To pleasure you?”

Slowly, he angles his head to suck your thigh again, dragging a fresh wave of blood through his hungry lips before shifting towards your cunt and licking a tentative strip directly above his fingers. 

“To taste you, perhaps?”

His voice is low, droning on in that teasing way that has you looking down annoyed, taking in the way he goes back and forth, debating whether or not to relent. To give in to the indulgence, watching you squirm beneath him. Forcing you to stir in your own prolonged pleasure until he all but sits back up, digging his fingers into the holes in your thigh, telling you you’ll get what you deserve once you’ve come back home.

-

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MASTERLIST ┊death note master list

WC;2.9k┊!MDNI! ┊TW; Voyeurism? Slight cock warming, quick sex, bottom L (Still the dominant power) - Top reader (the submissive), P-I-V, light thigh riding, unprotected sex, pregnancy reveal

SYPNOSIS; {Y/N} takes a visit to see L at the hotel with the task force members present because she couldn't wait any longer to see the man, she has some special news to tell him. Although, he already knows.  Cover name; {C/n} | True name ; {Y/n} {Lawliet}

The soft, ambient hum of the hotel's grand reception area envelops me as I stride confidently through the abundant space. The polished, marble tiles beneath my Mary Jane heels seem to create rhythmic clicks the further I walk, never missing a beat, my steps at the same pace.

Clad in a red slip dress that gracefully hugs my form, its silky fabric shifting sensuously with every movement. The dress, with its subtle, elegant shimmer, hints at both sophistication and a hint of allure. It drapes effortlessly a few inches above my knees, swaying with each step, drawing the eye with a subtle flirtation.

A leather coat, dark and supple, wraps around my shoulders like a protective shroud. Its rich scent mingles with the faint fragrance of my favorite perfume, more like L's favourite perfume, he prefers sweet-scented perfumes and I have found the perfect sweet vanilla perfume that I hope he likes compared to the other ones. The coat's collar frames my face, adding a touch of mystique to my appearance, while its sleek design implies both power and sensuality.

As I approach the reception desk, I can't help but notice the curious glances from other guests.

"If it's no trouble," I say, my voice carrying a tone of polite assertiveness, "I would like to get a key card for room 258."

As I speak, my {e/c} eyes lock onto hers, the intensity of my gaze reflecting my self-assuredness. I notice the subtle widening of her eyes, a fleeting reaction that suggests she might have momentarily misjudged me, perhaps assuming I was going to be a nuisance.

My request is delivered with a poised confidence that leaves no room for doubt, dispelling any misconceptions and ensuring that my intention is clear. "Um. I need you to confirm your relationship with the occupant first before I hand over the card. If you don't mind of course!"

"I'm the occupant's wife," I saw with a smile teasing its way onto my face, "I'd like the key card now."

"Yes, of course."

The elevator ride was surprisingly short and quick, considering Mr. Watari had arranged the hotel room to be on a relatively high floor. The floors seemed to glide past as the elevator ascended, and the soft, ambient music playing in the background added a touch of serenity to the journey.

The distinctive beep of the elevator signaled my arrival at the designated floor, and the doors slid open with a whisper of sound. Stepping out, I found myself in a well-lit corridor adorned with tasteful artwork and plush carpeting. I began scanning each door for the room number I sought.

My footsteps were hushed by the luxurious carpeting as I moved gracefully down the corridor. It didn't take long before I spotted the number I was looking for. Room 258. My destination was right in front of me, and I couldn't help but appreciate the attention to detail and opulence that characterised this hotel.

I slide my key card through the scan and it lets out a solemn beep as I crack open the door it seems I had not alarmed anyone to come and see who was coming through, although, they probably had cameras stationed everywhere. 

As I burst into the room, I'm immediately met with the sight of several men in sharp suits, undoubtedly the members of the task force who have been tirelessly working on the Kira case. Their presence adds a layer of gravity to the room, emphasising the importance of the mission at hand. Do I care? No.

My {e/c} eyes quickly scan the room, and I spot a solitary figure at the very end. It's L, perched on a chair, indulging in a slice of cake. 

Without hesitation, I slip off my jacket and make my way toward L's seat, my footsteps quick but controlled. In the process, I toss my leather coat to one of the task force members, who gasps in surprise at my unexpected and swift action. The room falls briefly into a stunned hush, the abruptness of my entrance leaving an indelible impression. 

I turn my head to address the young man who's speaking muttered something, noting his light brown hair and honey-colored eyes. This must be Kira, the one they've been pursuing so relentlessly.

"You can't just come in here and run over to Ryuzaki, we don't even know who you are," He says.

As the young man with light brown hair and honey eyes holds the back of my dress, I feel his firm grip preventing me from moving any closer to L. 

With a momentary pause, I assess the situation, understanding the need to establish trust and credibility with the task force before I can approach L further as they obviously do not know who I am. I let out a sigh.

"L, did you not tell them who I am?" I say crossing my arms, "I feel offended. And you, Kira. Are you holding me back because you want something from me? I didn't say yes. You can't shove tea down someone's throat if they don't reply or say no."

"My son is not Kira," A man peaks up.

"What are you talking about," Kira replies.

"She speaks about consent in the context of tea," L says while chewing on his strawberry cake, "Anyways, {C/n}, what are you doing here? I thought I told you not to come until the investigation is over."

"I missed you," I say, "I'm sure you knew that."

"I did."

"So, that leads me to come back to you," I say slapping Kira's hand off the grip on my dress.

"It doesn't matter, you aren't safe here," L says sternly, "Leave."

"I don't think I've heard Ryuzaki so...." Another member of the task force says this time in a younger voice.

"No," I say childishly.

"You are not safe here, {C/n}" He says through another spoonful of cake, and my mouth drops.

"Kira!" I say pointing back at the light brown-haired teen, "Doesn't my name! So who cares!"

"I care, now leave."

"No."

L's annoyance becomes palpable as he lets out an exasperated sigh. He places his plate, which once held a slice of cake, onto the table in front of him, and the clank it makes upon contact with the surface resonates throughout the room. His frustration at the disruption is evident, and it seems he's eager to address the situation and clarify the reason for my sudden appearance.

"Could everyone leave." L's command is authoritative, and the members of the task force obediently comply, exiting the room, and leaving us alone.

With the others gone, L remains in his seat, not making any move to approach me. It's clear that he's feeling a sense of unease, a rare vulnerability that he allows only in my presence. The facade he wears in front of the world drops, and he knows he can be more himself when we're alone together. This unspoken connection between us is a testament to the unique dynamic of our relationship and the trust we share.

I walk confidently in front of L, taking a motherly stance with my hands on my hips as I peer down at him. His gaze remains downcast, and he slowly places his feet on the floor, unfolding from his characteristic egg-shaped sitting position.

As I stand before him, a few moments pass, and then I feel his hands gently rest on my waist. My heart quickens, and I shiver at the intimate contact. L buries his head into my dress-clad stomach, seeking comfort and closeness.

As I wrap my arms around L, pulling him in closer, he responds by encircling me with his own arms, drawing me near. My fingers gently trail through his obsidian hair, and I feel a soft groan escape his lips in response to the sensation. His hands tighten around my waist, and I can't help but chuckle at his endearing reaction, knowing that even in the midst of the most challenging cases, he still wants to have my affection no matter what protests he makes.

"You've been acting moodier lately." L's observation about my moodiness doesn't go unnoticed, and I frown in response, not quite ready to share the news or discuss my feelings.

"Whatever."

L doesn't press the matter further. Instead, he gently pulls away from our close embrace, leaning back into the chair. He pats his lap, and I understand his unspoken invitation. Without hesitation, I eagerly sit on top of L, straddling him, finding comfort and solace in the unique connection we share. It's in these moments of intimacy that we can find solace and support amidst the challenges of the Kira case.

"I missed you," I whispered, my voice choked with emotion as tears welled up in my eyes. The weight of our separation had been unbearable, and now, in this moment of reunion, all I wanted was to hold him close and feel his presence once again.

"I know you did," L says, his voice filled with warmth and understanding as he wraps his arms around my waist. The weight of our separation is unbearable, and in this moment of reunion, all I want is to hold him close and feel his presence once again.

"Why am I crying?" I manage to say, my voice trembling with emotion, tears welling up in my eyes.

"You must be stressed about something, what is it?" L asks, his concern evident in his eyes. His words carry the longing, emptiness, and joy of seeing me.

The truth is, the rawness of our separation has left me emotionally vulnerable. The longing to be with L, to feel his touch and hear his comforting words, has taken a toll on my emotional well-being. It's a natural response to crave that deep connection, to feel the warmth and love that L brings into my life. The day I found out about this... It was Near's intuition that mentioned it, I didn't even think of a possibility that it happened.

I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself, and finally manage to say, "It's just the weight of missing you, L. It's been unbearable and something else."

L's eyes soften, and he pulls me even closer, his embrace providing a sense of solace and comfort. We may have been physically apart, but our bond has remained strong, bridging the distance between us.

"Take your time," he whispers, his voice filled with understanding. "I'm here for you now, and I'll always be. Let yourself feel, and know that I'm here to hold you through it all."

And at that moment, as I let myself surrender to the overwhelming emotions, I realise that the power of our connection transcends physical presence. It is in the tenderness of L's embrace, the reassurance in his voice, and the unconditional love we share that I find solace, healing, and a sense of home.

My whispered words carry a sense of longing and urgency as I address L. I reach out and gently drag the collar of his white tee to the side, exposing a patch of his skin, and press my lips against it. L's response is a soft sigh, his reaction to my touch evident.

"I want you," I murmur, my voice filled with desire and need. "It's been too long, and I can't... I can't function without you."

Our connection goes beyond the professional, and the intensity of our bond is underscored by the intimate moments we share, especially in the midst of such a high-stakes case.

"You're not well, are you sure you don't want to tell me anything before we continue?" He asks in a soft tone rubbing the back of my head as I continue to trail kisses around his neck.

"After," I say desperately, "Please, after. Want you now."

"Whatever you want, love."

I shift myself so I'm perfectly aligned to where his bulge is proding beneath the fabric of his jeans and I grind myself down on him causing a breathy sigh to leave my throat at the relieving action. His grip turns to hold my hips before dragging his hands up to my waist, bunching up the silken fabric to my waist and I whimper when he plays with the hem of my underwear.

"You really are that needy, love," He whispers against the shell of my ear and I bury my head in the crook of his neck.

"Stop," I mumble against his skin to stop the teasing as it's making a deep flush rise against my cheeks.

I feel his two skilled fingers drag my underwear to the side and drag them down my slit causing me to let out a moan at the feeling. "So wet already," He comments and I disregard the comment as I whimper in response instead of answering.

His two fingers slide in my heat and I nibble on the flesh of his neck and L groans in response. I grind myself down on them causing a string of moans to leave my mouth. He curls his fingers and I grind myself back and forth against his long digits. I felt a coil in my stomach tighten and my whimpers became louder.

"Ngh, L," I whimper out as I wrap my arms tighter around his neck, "'M gonna- gonna cum."

"You're doing so good for me," He praises, "Come, {Y/n}."

My juices spill over his fingers, I let out an exasperated sigh and arch my back into him. "Do you want more, my love?" He questions with a soft voice and I hurriedly nod in reply.

I fumble to get the zip to his pants down and I let out a whine as I struggle, L rubs the back of my neck to calm me down as I am being very needy in wanting him, to show me that he isn't going anywhere.

I finally unbuttoned and put down the zipper, he lifted his hips to help me pull down the fabric to his knees and I saw the growing bulge beneath his underwear, my mouth watered at the sight as I couldn't wait to have him inside me rearranging my insides. I pull down the fabric of his boxers and his length springs out and hits his stomach that was covered with his white shirt, L lets out a hiss at the action.

I hold the base of his length and give it a light squeeze while a breathy moan leaves his mouth as I trace the veins on the underside of his cock with my thumb. My hand travels up and down his dick rubbing the strings of pre-come that leaks from him, the moans continue to slip out of L's mouth.

I drag my body up once more while aligning myself with him and draping his swollen tip against my folds. A moan leaves my throat and a hiss respectively leaves his own. I sink myself down on his length and we both hold onto each other tightly. I messily pressed my lips against his and the ecstasy within my body continued to grow as the pleasure grew.

In a moment of unspoken desire and passion, I lean in closer to L, my intent clear in my eyes. Our lips meet in a messy kiss, and the world around us seems to fade away. My heart races, and a cascade of emotions courses through me as I press my lips firmly against his. The taste of the moment lingers on our tongues as move my hips against his. 

His cock hits that soft gummy place within my walls making me whimper against the kiss with L's groans reciprocating the pleasure. His hands massage my waist as he helps me carry his weight as I ride him.

"Hah~," I moan pulling away from his mouth as I feel him guiding my hips faster I bury my head within his neck and I nibble on the flesh causing L to tilt his head back at the sensation. I then realised that I had left a mark and that he'd have to cover the red splotch up but that didn't matter. I was so close to coming that my whole body felt weak underneath his warm touch.

I started to chant his name in desperation of wanting to come and I felt his hand press against my lower abdomen making me let out a high-pitched whine as the pleasure coursed through me even higher. "Come on, you can do it," L reassures me, "Come for me, love."

I let the coil in my stomach release and I felt L's own come spill within me that carried a moan from him. I let myself slump against him with his cock still sitting within my gummy walls. Nuzzling myself closer to him he wraps his arms around me. "What did you want to tell me?" He questions delicately against the shell of my ear making me shiver.

"I was visiting the orphanage because the kids missed me and Near asked me something..."

"Yes, love? What was that?"

"You probably already know but I took a test only because the poor baby Near was worried about me," I say remembering how embarrassed Near looked when he asked if I was pregnant, "It came back positive..."

"I already knew that you were pregnant, love. It was just a moment of time before you realised yourself," L says rubbing the back of my head reassuringly.

"You're not mad, are you?"

"I could never be mad at you, my love."

Do not steal, copy, modify, etc

Reblogs and likes are appreciated

MASTERLIST ┊death note master list

[khoipyan]

romantic floyd headcanons

where’s all the fun if everything’s boring? that’s why you’re stuck with floyd.

warnings; no major ones, all fluff here!

by the way, this is gender neutral (you/your pronouns only) and romantic. definitely not meant to be platonic at all! floyd and you are dating in his fic :)

notes; writers block appears, and i’m out of energy. i suddenly simp so very hard for my eel boy ever since his birthday and i start screaming and crying and magically start typing??? my fingers moved on their own???? so weird… anyways i will smile so hard abiyt floyd that wiklk wkadjk,cwejfi92nf9noid snsjaa fEWFGFG! HAIHDQ1! V!@E:L

floyd leech

starting off into your relationship, he’s very bold. floyd doesn’t believe in ‘dating stages’, why wait until a certain point to do a romantic gesture? unless you express your discomfort and show him that you want to take it slow, expect him to be dragging you through the halls while holding your hands on the very first day of dating.

gets all excited just thinking about you. if you both can’t meet up for specific reasons that day (like being busy, for example) he’ll get so giddy for the next time you guys meet. even if it’s tomorrow, he can’t hold in his excitement as he squeezes the life out of one of his pillows.

I like to think floyd does things like roll around his bed, or kick his feet subtly during class as he leans on his hand, daydreaming about romance scenarios between you and him.

hopeless romantic floyd? hear me out. under the sea, he's heard all the cheesy romance stories of humans and he found them interesting... and rather cute. he wishes to experience those stories he's heard. especially with you!... HOPELESS ROMANTIC FLOYD!

he likes to lean on you, regardless if you're shorter than him or not. you better not drop him to the ground! or he'll chase you around >:(

(woah i became a poet in that line)

clingy clingy clingy... so excited to see you during anytime that he'll literally push past people without a care, while running through the halls to jump into your arms! better have your arms WIIIDE open for him!

i think floyd is a bit more considerate when squeezing you. he'll definitely squeeze you a lot (and much more than anybody else) because you’re his significant other, but he's more gentle. it's still tight, but not in a suffocating way. in a soft, warm and kind way. if you're fragile, he'll make sure to be VERY gentle. what a good boy!

if harm comes your way, expect him to bother you about it (in a loving way). he hates seeing you so down, especially because something happened. if a specific situation was because of a certain student however… they won’t be bothering you again. ^_^

i think floyd loves headpats. it makes him feel warm inside, and when you rub his head… he’s already ascending.

i’m also a firm believer that floyd loves to squish your cheeks, even if your cheeks aren’t that squishy. he’ll find a way to squish your face anyways. however, if you squish HIS cheeks, he’ll just let you! doesn’t mind at all. i’d say that floyd has a squishable face :)

likes to sneak you free things at mostro lounge. complimentary drink, maybe a small snack… and a coupon for 25% off a meal. you question if floyd is even allowed to do this, though he tells you not to worry.

if he’s in a bad mood and you’re just sitting there (perhaps on a couch or something similar), expect him to flop down onto your lap. laying his head on your lap and looking up at your face already makes him feel much better (bonus points if you start playing with his hair)!

overall, floyd is a very loveable person. just be patient with him and he’ll make sure to do the same for you.

— due to be edited at anytime —

[sweetfushi]

Hi! Hi!

I wanted to requrst a olatonic Aizaea scenario please 🫶🫶

Lets imagine he has a biological daughter and he arrives early from work and finds her doing something he didnt know she could do (Singing, playing a instrument or something)

Thanksss

→ RECEIPT. reacting to his daughter's hidden talent. → TAGS. shouta aizawa x reader, established relationship, you have a child together, pure fluff. → NOTES. D/N means 'daughter's name', studying got boring so here's my form of procrastination, sorry this took so long :(

God, I'm tired, is Aizawa's first thought as he arrives early from work, stepping through the front door and closing it behind him with a sigh. He hangs his keys up, carefully unwraps his scarf and stores it in its corresponding basket and rubs the back of his neck, the pads of his fingers aiming to press the tension out his muscles.

"I'm home," he calls out in the seemingly house. He picks up the sound of your shuffling and movements in the kitchen and eases at the indication of your presence. After kicking his boots off, he makes his way over to you, finding you amidst countless dirtied bowls as you attempt to follow the recipe for something.

"I was just about to head over to you," you say, evidently beaming at your husband's presence gracing you earlier than usual. He lets his hands encircle your waist as you kiss him, humming at the low rumble in his chest.

He pulls away after a moment of indulging himself to ask, "where's D/N?" To which you respond, "last time I checked, she was in her room rummaging around for God knows what," you huff out a small laugh. "When I asked her what, she just hummed and continued to look around."

Aizawa purses his lips and nods, curious as to why his daughter seems to be acting so apathetic. Despite taking after his own rather unbothered and stoic personality, Aizawa always believed that there was room to worry about his daughter's behaviour. "Let me know when your.... experiment, works out," he chuckles, nodding at the mess in the kitchen.

You wipe your hands on your apron before smacking his shoulder and motioning for him to leave, to which he laughs - a low but soft sound you've loved drawing from him.

"D/N? I'm home early," Aizawa calls out as he ascends the stairs. He sees that her bedroom door is slightly open, but knocks before entering as per usual. When he hears a mumbled approval, he enters and goes to greet D/N, only to pause at the sight.

D/N was sitting on a small stool, a paintbrush in hand as she performed delicate strokes on the colourful canvas portraying a sunset at a beach. He assumed it to be a photo from the details he saw, but watched as D/N corrected something on the painting with her tongue stuck out in concentration.

"That looks amazing," he finally says, resting a hand on her shoulder with a subtly - but evident considering Aizawa's usual stoicism - surprised expression. She smiles faintly, looking up at her father's reaction. "Thanks, Dad. I was actually thinking about selling some. You know, some extra cash," she shrugs.

Aizawa smiles, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Do I not pay you enough?" When she rolls her eyes at his teasing, he shakes his head and assures her that he's kidding. "In all seriousness, that sounds like a great idea. But, why didn't you tell me you could do this? This is something to be proud of."

D/N blushes faintly, muttering out a "thank you." She explains that she didn't want to excite herself (or her parents) of a talent she was only just starting to capitalise on, in the event that she failed her pursuit. As she did, Aizawa internally beamed with pride at his daughter's maturity and recognition of opportunities.

"Can I commission you?" He asks, making her laugh. "No seriously, I'd love to have something of yours up around the house."

"You already have about ten things of mine stuck up," she pointed out, causing Aizawa to roll his eyes (a mutual habit of theirs, it seemed). He pinches her nose with a small tut.

"I don't see how one more could hurt."

sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post in any way. all that is included in this post, aside from the fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).

[bloodlust-1]

The Consort ₊⁺જ⁀➴

NSWF | Explicit 18+ | Angst | Blood | Ascended Astarion | Spawn Tav | Dark | Smut | Trauma | Stockholm Syndrome | Violence

Ascended Astarion x fem Tav

Chapter: 7 | White Fox

Summary: In a tumultuous tale of love, power, and betrayal, Tav finds herself entangled in a complex relationship with Astarion, a heartless vampire lord who will stop at nothing to maintain control over his newfound spawn. As Tav witnesses Astarion’s transformation and descent into darkness, their love is put to the ultimate test amidst love triangles, drama, and the pursuit of world domination. Redemption seems like an elusive goal while Tav grapples with the realization of who her lover has truly become.

UPDATED EVERY MONDAY.

Notes: I love posting these chapters, it makes me so excited like I'm hiding the world's biggest secret x')

AO3 LINK | MASTER LIST

Lovely photo by @astarionposting

The sound of Baldur’s Gate bustle fading into the distance. Tav was silent, her fingers absentmindedly playing with one of her locs as they strolled along the rugged path.

Ross peaked his eyes to the side from time to time - studying Tav's demeanor and body language. She seemed...anxious.

“Why did you come to Baldur’s Gate?” Ross broke the silence. He was both curious and intrigued.

Tav looked up, a half smile crossing her features, “Well...I was forced against my will to be mentally pregnant with a tadpole and I had no choice but to come to Baldur's Gate, of course."

Ross rolled his eyes with a breathy chuckle. He shook his head with a smile, "Yeah, yeah, of course. I mean - I would love to hear your alternative story."

Getting vulnerable with Ross was already a line Tav crossed, "I came to the city to escape some personal things back home…" She paused, a tree's shadow passing over her face as she continued, “That’s when I got captured by the illithids.”

"Well it sounds like you have really good luck." Ross chuckled sarcastically and Tav joined him, shrugging at his jokes.

Tav folded her arms and stared down at her feet, cursing herself in her head.

Stop trauma dumping, don't be stupid.

Tav collected herself, carefully reevaluating her words with Ross, “I just needed to be on my own.”

An outcast who desperately wanted security. It all made sense to Ross now.

The way Tav completely acted on her emotions and confided in him; not even knowing each other for long.

He listened carefully to her words, nodding his head ever so often. And he noticed the way she'd hesitate between words as if she was debating on holding back or not.

She didn't know whether this was okay or not.

To be open and honest after Astarion.

"I know the feeling. So, you're not alone." With a shrug, Ross's eyes trailed up to the canopy of trees above their heads, admiring the scenery. Glimmers of moonlight peeked threw the trees and landed perfectly on them.

Tav hugged herself and swayed side to side drunkenly, pure bliss on her face, "Ahh - I've missed this. Nature is so peaceful and calming, unlike this noisy city." She twirled herself, basking in the moonlight.

ROSS'S POV

"Oh, look at you, being one with nature and all. Next thing you know, you’ll be hugging a tree and telling me all about your newfound friends, the squirrels." With a sarcastic tone, his eyes twinkled mischievously.

Tav tilted her head in confusion for a moment before Ross’s joke finally registered in her mind. She shot him a playful glare and mustered an upside-down smile. “Ha, ha - very funny,” she mocked his laugh, nudging him softly with her elbow.

Who knew my night would turn so interesting.

Ross’s smirk widened as he continued to tease Tav. “You know, Tav, I think I should just bring the forest to you next time. Maybe plant a few trees in your backyard.”

Tav rolled her eyes at Ross’s antics. “Suuure, because that’s exactly the same as being surrounded by the real thing.” 

Ha. Cute.

Wait -

No, not cute.

Do not think like that.

Before he could open his mouth for another teasing comment, Tav halted, tilting her ear out with narrow eyes, "Shhh."

He stood still. listening.

The faint noise of rustling.

Ross reached for his back pocket knife, clutching the handle tightly with a strong stance.

Tav carefully stepped out of her shoes and closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath.

Ross stared at her with confusion, squinting his eyes and whispering at her, "What are you doing?" He was completely bewildered by her actions.

Who in their right mind would go barefoot on a wooded trail? Maybe she was some kind of forest hippie.

Tav gently shushed Ross again, opening her eyes to reveal the soft glow of magic. She hunched over before being smothered in a yellow glow, undergoing her wild shape right before Ross's eyes. The sight of her metamorphosis left him in complete awe and shock.

Ross stepped back with hesitation, his pupils dilating to the bright yellow light against the darkness.

His mouth practically hung open, dumbfounded.

No fucking way...

Tav took the form of a beautiful white fox with pale albino eyes, blinking silently in the stillness right at him. His heart sank. It's like those eyes pierced into his soul and he couldn't believe Tav was a druid.

Ross gazed down at the fox in admiration, unable to contain his excitement, “Holy shit...You’re a druid!”

Ross kneeled down slowly, reaching out his hand to touch the white fox. Her fur felt silky and thick, prickly at the ends. With a gentle nuzzle and a single nod, Tav gently brushed her muzzle against his fingers.

Ross smiled at Tav with a glint of amazement in his eyes.

“Amazing,” he murmured under his breath.

“I’ll let you hunt.” He stepped back, watching as the white fox darted off into the bushes, completely taken back from the sudden magic. Ross watch the silver fox rustle in the bushes.

Ross reached down, picked up her shoes, and walked along the trail, searching for Tav. It went silent for some time, and he had wondered where she ran off to.

His mind drifted off. He thought of his sister, Rosaline and her searing revenge on Astarion. Their younger brother was taken so long ago by this pale elf with white hair. Rosaline swore she'd never forget that face, and well - she didn't.

He recalled all those years of Rosaline studying their kind, vampires. He'd never seen his sister so invested with hatred, and she stopped at nothing.

Death always felt like a cruel joke to me

Losing his younger brother shattered his family in ways he couldn’t even begin to describe. The emptiness that consumed them was suffocating. Rosaline was so full of hate and remorse. Even till this day, she would never move on from their lost; she couldn’t accept his death.

Growing up as part of the Gur tribe of monster hunters, Ross knew him and his sister needed to protect their true identity. He could never be honest with Tav, even if he wanted to. He didn't want to betray his sister. His only family.

I need to be careful around Tav.

A deep inhale

and a soft exhale.

Ross’s heart pounded in his chest as a faint squeak echoed in his ears. His eyes darted to the direction of rustling in the woods.

He saw the fox, her piercing gaze locked onto him. In her mouth, she clutched a freshly caught brown hare, its blood staining the silver fur around her mouth. 

Tav dropped the hare As she slowly morphed back into her elf form, the animalistic features slowly melted away. Her hands, once clawed and rough, were now bare and soft against the dirt.

The straps of her shirt had fallen loose around her shoulders, revealing her bare skin. The moonlight glowed against her dark licorice skin, twinkling in all her high points. The once neatly style locs of hair was now slightly tousled over her face, leaving Ross in awe.

unable to look away from the softness of her skin, his mind raced faster than his heart and the breath caught in his Adam's apple. The sight of her was almost surreal, like something out of a dream.

Suddenly, Tav’s eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze. Her eyes was filled with a gentleness that took Ross’s breath away. Her lips stained in the blood of the hare, leaving a trail of red that ran down her chin.

Those eerie pearl eyes with parted lips to catch her breath.

It was both terrifying and mesmerizing.

This was a side of her that he had never seen before, and yet it was one that he couldn’t help but be drawn to.

Despite the gruesome scene before him, there was a sense of peace and contentment. And as he watched her lay there, gently catching her breath and coming back to herself, he knew he was fucked.

*BADUMP*

Her lips moved, but the air went silent for him. He couldn't hear, not when his mind was so loud. She's so...pretty.

….

…

..

.

*BADUMP*

….

…

..

.

Tav tilted her head, "Ross...?"

*BADUMP*

….

…

..

.

He blinked aimlessly and shook his head softly, “Huh?”

His cheeks flushed slightly as he averted his gaze, not wanting Tav to even get a glance of him caught off guard.

Feeling a sudden warmth in his cheeks, Ross cleared his throat and gently pointed out, “Your straps… they’re falling a bit.”

He tried to keep his tone casual in attempt to mask the slight embarrassment he felt at noticing such a detail. His heart raced, waiting for her response.

Tav gasped to herself out of embarrassment "Shit..", she reached up and adjusted her straps, pulling them back over her shoulders.

"Sorry about that,” she said apologetically, “You’re okay to look now.”

He didn't anticipate this, to be caught off guard by...Shoulders? Of all things.

I feel like one of those stupid little royal boys whose never seen a piece of skin.

What the fuck is wrong with me.

Stop it.

No.

Ross silently cursed himself for being so simple minded, kicking the rocks between his feet on the ground. Hoping Tav hadn't noticed the fever in his cheeks.

"This isn't going to be very pretty." Tav picked up the lifeless hare and brought it to her lips, "Im going to apologize now." She glanced at him with a slight sadness in her eyes before closing them.

Her fangs pierced into the hare, swallowing the fresh slick as Ross watched in silence. He noticed the way she hunched over, desperately drinking as if she was starving.

The survival instincts kicked in and Ross marveled at how truthful Tav was in her vampirism and animal nature.

Not everyone can accept what they've become.

Especially so openly.

END ROSS'S POV

The metallic tang of the blood filled her cheeks, sending a shiver of pleasure down her spine. With hunger gnawing at her insides, Tav savored the bittersweetness mixed with an earthy flavor.

The emptiness in her stomach was replaced by a comforting fullness. Tav then pulled away the drained hare, and she began to dig a shallow grave in the soft dirt beside her.

Gently, Tav placed the lifeless body into the shallow grave, covered it with dirt, and whispered a soft prayer to Silvanus.

Ross neatly placed her shoes in front of her and rubbed the top of her messy hair, "You forgot these back there earlier." He tried his best to uplift her mood.

She chuckled and smiled at him. Tav stood up, and wiped the remnants of blood from her lips with her forearm, smudging the blood across her cheek, "Thanks." She said, barely above a whisper while stepping back into her shoes.

A sigh escaped her lips as she gazed down at the makeshift grave and the smallest of what felt like ant bites started to prick her skin.

"Tav.." Ross stared at the sky, the light glimpse of orange painted on the horizon, "You need to get out of here." a small cold sweat ran down his back.

His expression faded into concern, "I'll find you another night."

Another night?

Not so sure about that.

I don't think that'd be a good idea. I've already done too much today.

Tav somberly shook her head no, the smell of metallic still potent on her lips, "Thank you for your company...I - appreciate it."

And with that, she wild-shaped back into the silver fox. Only then she would be fast enough to make it back home before the day broke again.

Ross watched the fox run out of the woods, leaving him completely lonely in his own silence. The sad look in her eyes made his stomach turn and he just didn't trust what would happen next.

For better or for worse, Ross wanted nothing more than peace.

But at what cost?

~

Ross got home, they lived in a small apartment attached to many others. Though the siblings seemed very well put together and clean, they were pretty middle class.

A couple of coin would be nice though.

Not like Tav or Astarion, they lived in a beautiful palace. Dark and depressing looking but still beautiful nonetheless.

Ross settled a small pouch of coins onto an unstable wooden table, it made a jingle noise that got the attention of Rosaline.

She sat in the corner of the room, jotting down profusely in an old leather journal. Her head jolted up by the noise and she recoiled back, “That’s all you got tonight?”

Ross shrugged, “Stealing isn’t always as easy as you think.” He took off his shirt and tossed it to the side of the room, “Besides this should be enough to cover the rent for the next 2 months.”

Rosaline's eyes traveled to the thrown shirt, glaring back at him in disapproval, “You better pick that up. Unlike you, I actually have manners for my roommate.”

“Oh, then I’ll be glad to add that I prefer a roommate who isn’t obsessed with vampires.” Ross leaned over, picking up the tossed shirt.

Rosaline narrowed her eyes at her brother, clearly irritated, “You know it’s more than that. Don’t fucking make me sound crazy.”

Nonchalantly, “Whatever.”

Ross opened a wooden drawer, dug for a shirt, and put it over his head. A small smile crept on his lips at the thought of recent events, unknowingly the flush in his cheeks warmed his face.

She lowered her journal and placed it beside the armrest of the chair. Rosaline glanced over at Ross, a faint smile playing on her lips. “What’s the stupid smile for?” she teased, raising an eyebrow.

“What?” he replied, slightly puzzled.

“You’re smiling. It’s weird,” Rosaline pointed out with amusement in her face.

Ross chuckled softly. “I didn’t notice,” he admitted with a hint of sheepishness in his voice.

He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to tame those mental images of Tav's loosened shirt.

Rosaline leaned back in her chair, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Met someone at that disgusting pub you keep going to?” She teased, taking a jab at his choice of hangout spot. “You know I hope they’re classier than that place, but considering they go there, they can’t be that fantastic.”

Ross quipped to her jab, “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

She rolled her eyes, “Just stay focused, I’m so close to getting his attention.”

The memory of Tav still lingered in his head. From her teary eyes to the bite marks on her neck. Ross's gaze simply landed on Rosaline, uneasy with information she probably would want to know.

In a soft voice, he questioned her, “How’s that going?”

“Decent, I think,” Rosaline replied thoughtfully. “I tried to proposition him to work together as business partners. I could bribe the writers for The Gazette, and get his name out there to the people.” She paused, a flicker of frustration crossing her features. “It’s so annoying that I have to play this role when I just want to stab him right in the heart every time I see him.”

Plainly with furrowed brows, "Mhm."

She snapped at him, hurt and anger in her eyes, “Can you act like you give a damn?”

His and Tav's interactions gnawed at him. And just as he tried to bite his tongue, the words came spilling out, “I may have seen someone...tonight.”

His sister paused, a glimmer of light reflected in her eyes, and there was a moment of fleeting silence.

“Who.”

Ross hesitated, glancing around aimlessly. Guilt and anxiousness knotted his stomach...

Shit.

“Remember that girl we saw Astarion with?” He raised an eyebrow, waiting for Rosaline to connect the dots.

She scuffed dismissively, “She's just an accessory, a mere shadow trailing behind him wherever he goes.”

A sense of urgency tainted his words as his voice dropped to a whisper, "…I saw her tonight."

"Continue."

"You're downplaying their relationship. It's deeper than we thought."

Rosaline simply nodded slowly. Ross avoided eye contact with her by averting his gaze. Her hands clenched tightly into fists and with glossed-over eyes, Rosaline glared at her brother with a burning intensity.

The tension was palpable as she took a deep breath and whispered softly to herself, “Interesting.”

"Tell me everything."

Next part here

Any thoughts? Comment 👇🏼 I love to engage!

Hi, hi 🫶🏼 hope everyone enjoyed their Easter!

Fun Fact: Any animal that Tav wild forms into is going to be albino :] It's a little quark since she has very pale eyes in elf form.

Following Tav and Ross (the TENTION) and ahhhh it's such a nail-biter because you KNOW shit is ganna get stickyyy! >-<

See ya next week to follow up Astarion and Tav after their big argument!

[badmuni]

## wrapped in your arms.

★ credits to abby's idea/request.

₍⁠₍ pairing— lee heeseung x reader. genre— fluff, platonic lovers. words—540 ₎⁠₎

Heeseung thought it was a good idea to show you his vinyl record collection—then he took you to his room.

When you walked inside, the lampshade dimly illuminated the room, and you could see the velvet sheets on his bed. His sweet scent in the room was lingering in the distance until it finally made its way to your nose.

There, you thought it was quite warm.

“Yn, don't you know how to dance?”

You were caught off guard when Heeseung unexpectedly asked.

Seated on the floor of his room with several records scattered around, he was searching for a specific vinyl record that contained slow music.

“What if I don't?” You asked sincerely, looking at him with a sad expression.

He shuddered at you manner.

“I can show you how...” Proposed.

Heeseung got up, putting the record on the phonograph, before walking over to you and taking your hand, pulling it gently. Even though he had a smile on his face, you were kind of panicked.

“Oh—No, no, maybe that's not a good idea—” You said, already stumbling in your steps, but he held you tightly.

The music started softly, it was quiet but genuine. When you looked into his eyes only then did you realize how close your faces were to each other at that moment, but that didn't seem to be worrisome to him.

Time seemed to slow down, as did the music playing. Heeseung touched your face, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“That is good? Seems good to me...” He murmured softly and hesitated to place a hand on your waist, but he eventually did and started to move.

“It's... It's good,” you tried to respond as you followed in his footsteps, which just like yours weren't so sure, but it didn't really matter.

Heeseung, as always, took every chance to have you close to him, and this was just one of the opportunities he had found for this, now while slow dancing with you. But maybe dance him was a chance to fall in love even more—the closer he held you, the safer it felt to love. It was great to be able to look into his eyes while intertwining your hands. He was lusty, and his sparkling eyes just carried you away. At that point it was difficult to return to reality... But you did, when all of a sudden, Heeseung kissed your lips.

He didn't even give you a chance to think; he simply approached you near enough for a kiss, and it appeared that he wasn't going to stop kissing you anymore. You could feel his love softly get into your body, ascending a new feeling into your heart.

You opened your eyes when he finally gave you a moment to catch your breath, and as you put your eyes on him, he looked as beautiful as ever. Heeseung, though, couldn't stop thinking about how much he loved you, and about how much he wanted more of that feeling. It was just what was going through his head.

“We should try this again... Don't you think, Yn?” He asked, flashing a shy smile.

“Oh... yes, definitely” you murmured.

Your words making him the happiest now that he was allowed to kiss you again.

# masterlist

[ ★ ] notes — please, tell me any mistakes if you find, i have difficult with english words :( thank u for reading!

© badmuni | 2023

[pureastrologywisdom]

𝔄𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔞𝔩𝔶𝔰𝔦𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔏𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔦𝔫 𝔞 𝔫𝔞𝔱𝔞𝔩 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔱

The easiest way to show you how Lilith works in a natal chart is to analyse her in a celebrities natal chart. I have chosen Marilyn Monroe as she is well known and Lilith is actually very prevalent in her natal chart - surprise surprise. Once again I will say H13 is the Lilith I use. I have explained why in different posts.

The first thing to look at is which house Lilith resides. In Marilyn’s chart it is in the 12th house when using the Placidus housing system and in the 1st when using the whole house system. I will say now that you should look at both for this. Often you will find if Lilith changes houses in each system you will relate to her being in both. And if not use whichever hosing system you resonate with most. Today I am using the placidus system.

Something to immediately note is that Lilith is conjunct Marilyn’s Ascendant. She heavily embodies this Lilith archetype and the themes of Lilith. This placement also indicates someone really embodying the lilith archetype. One way Marilyn changed  this can be seen when she changes her name and persona from Norma Jeane Mortenson for the public eye. She spoke about how her persona was like a powerful alter ego. She gained power from changing herself and her name.

Another interesting thing to note is that her Lilith is at a Pisces degree. Pisces is ruled by Neptune which rules over cinema and cameras. Her power came from how she acted onscreen and in front of cameras. She was this completely different person. You can also see the negative influence of this, she was constantly over sexualised. This also links to her Lilith ascendant aspect. However you can also see how she used this to her own power. She gained popularity and became this sex symbol. She mentioned in interviews how she did dress for the male gaze, it was her own choice. She played into it because she knew this was how she could gain power/ popularity. Like I have mentioned, Lilith shows us where we can struggle for power and where people try and take it away. It can be a constant battle for control over this area and it can take years to master it. Her persona was her power.

Having Lilith in her 12th house can show a power struggle with the mind. The 12th house rules over fears as well as desires and fantasies. You can see how this can be a double edged sword when Lilith is involved already. In Monroe’s case this shows how she had a fear of loosing her sanity after witnessing her mother suffer from Paranoid Schizophrenia. The 12th house is knows as the house of the self undoing. It was reported that in 1961 she was institutionalised for a short period of time after she was having trouble sleeping and taking pills. This is an example of how Lilith can take your power away just as easy as she gives it.

The 12th house is ruled by Neptune which is related to themes of obsession as well as fantasies like previously mentioned. Having her Lilith in the 12th house as well as conjunct her ascendant gave her this untouchable identity that peoples loved. It drove people wild, especially men. Men saw her as this dream woman that they couldn’t actually attain or touch. You can see how the 12th house and ascendant themes comes together here. It also shows that there were most likely a lot of people who were jealous of her, as the 12th house also rules hidden enemies. There may have been people who wanted to take away her power because of this jealousy.

Thank you for taking the time to read my work, if you have any questions or would like to work with me let me know as I will be opening up services to work with me 1-1 as well as in groups very soon.

Much love, Pureastrowisdom

[ziskeyt]

i'm playing tears of the kingdom for the second time right now and i had issues with the story the first time, those aren't gone. However, playing it this time i am convinced that the memories in the tears actively work against the tension, confusion, and overall dread it seems nintendo wanted us to feel about Zelda's whereabouts. we follow the puppet up the castle grounds after completing the regional phenomena, and in-game it seems we're supposed to believe that as Link we are following Zelda. that we're supposed to be worried about her. But i've already seen the memories at this point, i know this Zelda isn't Zelda. I know she's a dragon in the skies above me. there is no tension here, she's some creature of Ganon's and must be, because he's done this before in the memories.

However, if we'd just had the sightings of Zelda in the regional phenomena, perhaps even as cutscenes to show her in a more convincing way and not just oh on the other side of the screen where we cannot speak to her. Then i may have felt more tension. If it had played up this question of: did Zelda really disappear in a spark of yellow light, or did she fall into the Demon King's clutches somehow instead? Did she fall into the abyss and was broken by his mind games deep, deep below the world? Was she corrupted somehow? She sure seems to be working for evil in the her that we see in the present, and i think it would've been cool to see more of that and less of oh she's safe in the past! oh wait no she's a dragon. but! she's not this Zelda in the present cause we already know what happened.

And sure, it's an open world game with no set linearity. Sure! However, even before i got all the memories, just getting one solved my "where's Zelda? should I be worried about her?" thoughts. she was in the past. millennia or so well behind where i was, why should i worry about her? i don't know the rest of the story yet but like, if she can magically transport to hyrule's founding she's not a pressing concern as much as the blizzard in hebra, or the sand shroud in gerudo, or the poisoned water in zora's domain (addiction is not magically solved except in stories, so like, i wasn't worried about the gorons as much as just horrified by their glowing eyes. the solution there is more structural support but lol that's boring so it's magically not a problem and there's no withdrawl after you 'solve' that area). Anyway. maybe you don't get any memories during the main quest, maybe you do all four regions and go up to the castle and you've seen none. why not make them something that unlocks after a certain point? perhaps the glyphs only show up after zelda's puppet is revealed and you get a cutscene with dragon zelda ascending up like she did at the start of the game, only tears fall and the glyphs appear and then you go and find out where she is.

but either way all of this hinges on Zelda being a completely different person to the Zelda we know. Zelda we know is a amateur researcher, she keeps notebooks all over her study, she keeps notebooks in her new home. if we can keep notes by way of quests and such in the pad, she would have as well. even if she couldn't, if she entrusted the pad to the steward why not a notebook or some stone slate that she leaves for Link saying: i can see no other choice. To get your sword back to you with the power it needs to defeat the Demon King, i must do the unimaginable and become an immortal dragon. the Zonai say it is irreversible, but you we've done the impossible before. Link, i leave you my research i could find into this process. Please. Find a way to change me back. As if researcher Zelda who is so excited by the reliefs we find at the start of the game wouldn't have kept her own records, wouldn't have noted her choices down, and wouldn't have found a way to leave this to Link without being stupidly vague, not when she spent her entire childhood attempting to tap into a magical power that she was vaguely told would probably, maybe, should awaken due to prayer.

long and the short is: memories ruin the game tension, but the overall premise of "where's zelda" makes no sense with the zelda we have in these two games

[altraviolet]

Hey I just caught up on The Echo Garden and read the entire sequence of landing on Mirage’s Cybertron and running into Ascended Space God Megatron. What an AMAZING foil this Megatron is to everything soundwave values.

Soundwave wants to learn everything the world has to offer. Megatron wants to know everything by wiping out everything he doesn’t already understand. Thank you for taking the time to write out this whole massive arc, I’m sure it took a ton of planning. Can’t wait to see everyone aboard the LL meet Skywarp <3

Hi ardent! Good to see you again :)

Thanks so much for the kind message! I'm glad you enjoyed the Firelove arc ^u^ Parts of this arc were written quite a long time ago and then drastically changed.

If you're curious for some background info on that :) 👇

2938 Cybertron originally started off as a wasteland infested with insecticons. This was hinted at heavily in Ch 29 when Soundwave watches Rodimus play HOSTILE PLANET II: The Planet of Eyes.

Rodimus navigated through the Lost Light's internal game catalog. “The icon is Megatron's head. You know that's a good sign." ... “Same premise as Hostile Planet I. Well, at least the final boss fight ought to be good..."

The above are all direct references to Mirage's Megatron being a "final boss fight" for Soundwave, aka a being of enormous power offering him everything he could want.

This part was supposed to foreshadow the insecticon infestation:

Rodimus's little sprite explored the city's collapsed buildings. Every once in a while, insecticon clones swarmed up from below.

In the original chapter, Rodimus and Soundwave are tasked with gathering supplies and Mirage goes into a building to retrieve Skywarp. They're swarmed with insecticons on their way back to the shuttle.

The swarming was eventually changed to 2938 Cybertron being an empty planet with 'haunted Apple store' aesthetic (my note on the tone lol). If I were the kind of person who wrote the whole story and then posted, I would have changed the video game in Ch 29 to match what ended up happening much later.

Also, this part:

“A mini game? Ugh. Who thought pulling wires out of the wall would be fun?"

Foreshadowed a longer scene of Rodimus and Soundwave becoming more friendly again (after their distance after the Irradion arc) and having a competitive game pulling wires from the walls. The final version of Ch 43 has a truncated scene of this, where they break open a console together and steal the golden wire from it.

There were a few other things in the game meant to foreshadow 2938 Megatron and Cybertron, but they also ended up falling by the wayside. The emphasis on eyes naturally leads to Megatron's "gnashing eyes," but originally it was going to be something different. Also the literal name of the video game was "Hostile Planet," lol.

And one bonus note, this part:

"Aw shit, I need the code from level 2. What was it again?” “45720.”

was a mini foreshadowing for the upcoming Irradion arc. 45720 is 1337 for "Astro," as in Astrotrain :)

Thanks again for reading and for the kind comment ^u^

[the-mic-drop]

TotK Spoilers Below Cut

Regarding Korok Forest

Nothing in either installment of the Wild Duology gave me a greater sense of dread and fear than going into the Korok Forest for the first time in Tears of the Kingdom. Not my first Lynel encounter, not my first Guardian encounter, not my first trip into The Depths, not even my first encounter with the Gloom Hands put the kind of spine-tingling horror into my soul. Sure, those all made me nearly piss myself, but the infected Korok Forest was a unique, well done brand of horrific.

So you get to that one stable, meet Kilton and Koltin, say what's good to Tera, and by now you're thinking "I wonder what's good in the Lost Woods." Now, let's say for the sake of argument that you don't go right into the Minshi Woods Chasm and try to go the original way. Immediately you can tell something's off. Instead of the surreal blue mist you remember, it's a chalky black miasma, and there's no getting through it. No clever wind puzzle either, it's impenetrable.

So now the dread is really starting to build. Both that you have to go into The Depths and that something's wrong in general. So you go to The Depths and on the little raised pathway to a central lightroot are several Koroks being vague about some problem in the Korok Forest. So you ascend up back onto the surface and are faced with... wrongness.

What you should see (depending on what time of day you get there) is shining greens, yellows, pinks, and more colors of a welcoming and safe respite. Instead, you're faced with an eerie stillness and malicious magentas. Towering over this scene is The Great Deku Tree, Protector of the Korok Forest. Except his mouth is hung open and it is clear he is not well. You approach him, quickly noting that the Master Sword is nowhere to be seen, and talk to the first Korok you come across.

To you they say "..." as they stand perfectly still, staring at the ground. The textbox doesn't even display their name.

This is the crowning moment of this horror show. The Koroks are a relative unknown, yet are quite simple. They're childlike, whimsical forest spirits that are always full of energy and enthusiasm. They are pure, innocent, yet mysteriously magical. Most don't even know they exist, let alone interact with them. Yet, here they are, in the place where logic would dictate that they are the safest, lifeless. They are spirits that have been robbed of their spirit, their identities too if the lack of names are anything to go by. And then you go to the Deku Tree himself and he can't even notice you, only groan about a pain in his stomach.

Now this is upsetting in many ways. The Calamity was powerful to be sure, but no Malice ever invaded the forest. Even the monsters that were there seemed to be either naturally occurring or only existed because the forest willed it. But now, not only had Ganondorf's power corrupted the protective fog of the Lost Woods, it infected a near godlike being. It smothered the very essence of the Koroks.

In BotW, the Korok Forest felt more than any other location like a safe haven. Untouched and safe from the dormant power of the Calamity. After all, where else would Fi, the spirit of the Master Sword itself, know it would be safe enough to recuperate for an entire century? But now, in TotK, it has been completely and thoroughly infected by Ganondorf's magic. It feels more than just wrong, it feels heretical, sacrilegious, criminal.

I can only liken this shift in tone to WW2 stories where Allied forces come across a concentration camp for the first time. You've already seen so much, been through so much, but this? This is different. The profound sense of "this shouldn't be this way" is gut-wrenching. Yet it motivates you to stay and fix it like no other quest in any game I've played. No matter how much you hate The Depths, no matter how difficult you find the Gloom Hands, no matter how under-prepared you are for a Phantom Ganon fight, you want desperately to stay until you do it. Not because the payoff might be huge, not because it's required for the plot. But because you just can't not.

At least, that's how I experienced it.

[willshipanything-blog]

Rules of the Game- Chapter 5

New chapter of my fic is up! Read below or check it out on AO3.

See Chapter Index here

More detailed tags on AO3, but the smut has arrived! (non-con elements, violence, please mind)

Chapter 5: Open/Wounds

He’d left the door open. That can’t have been an accident. Still, you rose from the mattress on shaky legs, warily approaching the metal door. You spied an unmistakable crack in between the opening and the frame. Listening for that low, steady breath on the other side, waiting for his ruse to reveal itself. But no. You heard nothing. He was upstairs then, waiting for you to come up. It was a trap, of course it was. But, always the pragmatist, you weighed up your options. It was the only exit out of this hellhole. Staying down here would result in a 100% chance of death. Maybe trying to escape up the stairs would only mean a 99% chance. 

You slipped off your pumps, deciding socks would be the quietest method of creeping. The metal door groaned and you gritted your teeth until it was open just wide enough for you to slip through. Ascending above you were about a dozen stairs, turning sharply left at the top into what seemed to be another doorway. You climbed up agonizingly slowly, cursing silently under your breath for every step that caused a creak in the wooden staircase. 

Reaching the next door, a regular wooden one with a small round knob, you inhaled a huge breath to steady yourself. Not that it worked. Time to go, Y/N. You felt a wave of relief as the door opened soundlessly, but this soon evolved into a wave of nausea. 

Across from the door, sat expectantly in a chair, was the Grabber. Open mouthed, stunned speechless, you noted 3 things as you stared at the man sitting facing you. He was wearing a new mask with a hideous frown. He was shirtless. He was holding a belt in his hand. Each of these in turn made the pit of your stomach drop further and further down. Your usual routine of uneasy silence followed before he broke the quiet.

“You’re going to break the promise you just made, Y/N?” Here he held up his left little finger, waggling it playfully. The small pink gem glinted in the dark of the dim kitchen. He tucked his digit away and tapped gently at his knee, gesturing you to approach. “Come here.” His voice was flat but the gleam in his eyes betrayed him; he was furious. You shook your head slightly, holding back hateful tears. In doing so, your face contorted into a downward smile, mimicking the Grabber’s own porcelain grimace. 

“That wasn’t a question. Come here.”

You played your game of possibilities, but you played it in a split second. There was the basement; if he chased you back down there was certainly no escape. His chair lay dead center on the kitchen linoleum; trying to run past him into the next room or try to grab a knife from a sideboard appeared to end in him beating you to the punch. Your only option was to do as he says, do what he wants. You urged your legs to approach the masked man, despite every alarm in you screaming to go the other way. Slow as you were, he remained calm, one foot tapping the floor rhythmically, making the metal belt buckle perched on his lap jangle ominously through the stillness. Your thoughts raced as you drifted towards him. What does he want, really? Does he want to kill me, beat me, or worse? The clarity of the thought came as you reached his sitting form. He wants me to be a good girl. 

Grinding your teeth at what you were about to do, you knelt at his feet, deigning to put your hands to his knees. His legs jolted a fraction of an inch, but otherwise he remained inert. You forced yourself to look up at the ghoulish face, to lock eyes with him. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll be a good girl, really. I want to keep my prom–”

Without warning, a hand sailed swiftly through the still air, the back of his hand slapping you hard across the face. Your cheek erupted in pain. Your old wounds were still healing, but fresh scars were already bubbling up. You had not only felt the sting of his giant rings, but your own ring had scraped sharply across your cheekbone, the rough gem opening a gash of skin beneath your eye. You exhaled a pained yelp, not unlike an injured dog, but clung steadfast to his knees, fingernails gripping his trousers for balance. 

The Grabber seized your jaw with the same hand he’d delivered the slap, his long fingers covering the right side of your face as he tilted your head forcefully to inspect the red mark he’d just made. He faced you back to him, your abused jaw aching from the pressure. His blue eyes look down on your quickly bruising face. He let out a huff of satisfaction with his work. 

“Naughty, naughty girl. Trying to talk me into letting your disobedience be forgotten?” You remained mute. “You say you’ll be good, but you need to prove it to me, dove” Here he dropped the belt to his side with a clatter and his hands moved to cover yours. “Can you show me how sorry you are?” He guided your palms up his legs, along his bulky thighs, your eyes following them until your focus was on the obvious bulge hidden beneath his trousers. 

“Show me, Y/N.”

Your own shame reddened your cheeks. You were scared, yes, but also mortified that you were doing this, if only to placate the man spread in front of you, to prove to him you could be trusted. You dared to look at his masked face. Eyes were locked onto yours, a subtle nod from the pale frown encouraging you to continue. Show him you aren’t afraid. Biting down on your lip to stop it from quivering, you nodded slowly back, before your eyes moved downwards again. 

Your shaking hands moved to unbutton and unzip his trousers. His off-white shorts underneath bulged with what you could tell was an already hard manhood. With trepidation, you pulled the band of his shorts down and his cock sprung eagerly out. You had hoped that you might play pretend, imagine his penis was Jonathan’s, but the Grabber’s was much, much larger. You let out an audible gasp to which the man before you responded with a deep chuckle. 

You needed to focus, needed to make it count. If you were good, he might finish faster, you wouldn’t need to endure this ordeal for quite so long. You also thought of the perilous situation you were in; this psychopath might just kill you if you didn’t please him. 

You reached cautiously to his tip, already wet with precum (how long had he been aroused for?) and spread the liquid between your fingers in preparation to wet the rest of his cock. Your hand moved over the head and spread to surround his substantial girth. You started slowly, rubbing long, wary strokes along his shaft, eliciting a humming exhalation from above. You cringed at the thought of pleasing this monster, the wince causing your free hand to involuntary dig into his thigh. This only served to draw out another salacious moan from him. 

You began to pick up the pace once his entire length was slick and smooth, his dick throbbing beneath your quickening touch. Rubbing from base to tip, and circling his girth in short twists drew out obscene grunts from him, though his hands stayed obstinately at his sides. Listening to his now ragged breaths made you aware of your own heavy panting, which you determined must be due to exhaustion. Still, you doubled down, reaching your second hand to cup his balls, clutching and fondling them with your delicate fingers. 

If he was enjoying your handiwork before, he was swimming in ecstasy now. No longer able to keep his hands by his sides, he clutched both hands to your jaw, his thumbs running over your flushed cheeks. You saw his bare stomach rippling above his cock, and knew he was close. 

“Shit, Y/N, yes, yes!”

With a few final pumps of your fist along his length, his cum rippled from his slit as he howled more obscenities and clenched your hair roughly in his fingers. He spurted his milky seed into your palm, hot and sticky. He exhaled a long, contended breath. He was finished. 

You retreated your hand and wiped his cum on your already filthy skirt. As he quickly put away his cock and fastened his trousers, you averted your eyes down submissively at the faded linoleum tile, perhaps trying to convince yourself you hadn’t been an active participant in this performance. You were glad he had only touched your face in that moment. You couldn’t have bared the shame if he had touched your own private parts, feeling your own wetness that had pooled there, your own body’s betrayal.

You prayed you had done enough to gratify this beast. His sick little game was done for the night, right? 

The Grabber took another moment or two to compose himself, steadying his breath whilst he considered you carefully. All the while you kept your eyes downward to the floor. You perceived him scoop up his belt from the corner of your eyes, hoping he was clearing up after that humiliating act. Instead, you felt his hand once more touch your jaw, this time gripping it at the bottom, rising from his chair and dragging you up with him. Your hands scrambled to grip his arms for purchase, to ease the pain he was inflicting on your neck. Please, you prayed, please let it be over. 

“Hmm, that was an enjoyable diversion, Y/N. You really are quite…capable, no?” Your humiliation continued, blushing scarlet at this compliment by your abuser. “But I’m not sure it left enough of a mark,” he held the thick belt aloft in front of your face “to remind you of your place, naughty one.” 

So, it wasn’t over. Just another cruel trick he’d pulled on you. Making you think that would be enough to satisfy his hunger. 

“No! Please…” you rasped, struggling to protest with a hand tightly around your throat.

You pulled away abruptly, terrified of what else he could possibly inflict on you, and you actually managed to slip from his grasp. Only for a second; his quick reflexes gripped your upper arm as you tried to retreat from him, and he whisked you around roughly, dragging your back into his broad chest. He trapped you possessively in his strong arms, your own arms caught beneath his. The petrified scream that rose from your lungs was soon stifled with a huge hand slapped to your mouth. 

“That’s enough of that, my little dove. It’s like you want to be punished. Why else would you continue to be such a naughty girl?” His massive form carried you across the kitchen and down the basement steps as if you weighed nothing, descending quickly despite your flailing legs and writhing, panicked body.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You thought that by pleasing him in that way, you would at least save yourself from physical pain. Endure one to prevent the other. But he wasn’t satisfied it seemed, and took pleasure in hurting you in every way imaginable. 

Back in your cage, you were thrown hard onto the concrete, your hands and knees searing in pain as they hit the ground. You heard the metal door slam closed, and he spoke in a low, menacing voice. 

“As you’ve probably learnt by now, no one can hear you down here. So do feel free to scream as loudly as you like.” 

On hearing his footsteps approaching behind your kneeling form, you tried to crawl away, scrambling wildly until you felt the vicious sting of his belt whip the back of your calf. Despite the biting pain, your adrenaline flipped you over as you attempted to hold out a defensive arm, to plead for him to stop. You were instead greeted by a fist to your cheek, swinging fast and knocking you down once more. A couple of cruel kicks met your ribs as you tried to curl away from the merciless attack. 

Kicking you onto your front and pressing a boot into your lower back, he began again with the belt. You were unable to move, your back a fresh canvas for him to paint with your blood. He rained down lash after lash, unrelenting and truly enraged. You managed to hoist your arms behind your head, protecting it from the assault, but receiving deep welts along your forearms for your efforts. Your bleeding skin screamed in agony, tensing with each flog as your whole body trembled uncontrollably. You were too hurt to form coherent words, the sound of your piercing shrieks grating against the psychotic grunts he made during his fierce attack. After an incalculable number of whips he relented, his pale mask flecked with blood. By this time you had quietened, verging between states of consciousness. 

He squatted beside you, your dimming eyesight barely making out the shape of his boots in front of your face. 

“My good girl has forgotten her place.” he sounded almost regretful. He thumbed the gash under your cheek that had formed from his earlier slap, the wetness of both your blood and tears saturating his thumb. “Broken promises will only end badly for you. Now, are you going to be good for me, Y/N?” You nod your head feebly, unable to do anything else except cry in that moment. “There’s my good little dove.” The last thing you heard before you succumbed to unconsciousness was the metal door, closing with a thud and a click. 

The naughty boys are always so surprised when he’s sat there waiting. They must know, surely, that it’s a trap, but even so they come. He adores the looks on their faces as they realize their mistakes. They retreat, and the belt does the rest. But she hadn’t been the same. She was continuing to be an exception to the rule. She knows the game- even using those words- good girl- to try and appease him. And sure, it worked a little, his addition to the game such a delightful extra, an added bonus all for him. Though his little bird’s little act of pleasure was delicious, Al’s primal urges ended the same way, with a weeping mess on his basement floor, begging for reprieve from the belt’s lashes. 

It wasn’t just his victim who was different. Al had noticed his own desires changing. Of course, her first touch, kneeling in front of him, pleading pathetically, putting her hands on him were all delectable. But even after the act- her being held fast against him, and throughout the beating, he couldn’t ignore the heat in his stomach and the continuing bulge in his trousers. He wanted more of her, mewling and whimpering in all the ways he could imagine. This was turning into a different game entirely.

[blackjackkent]

Looking at the patch notes for patch 5! This is the first set of patch notes I've actively paid attention to and man, it's fucking huge!

Honestly, reading through this, I am just mind-boggled all over again about the scale and ambition of this game. Obviously there were (and probably still are) quite a few bugs, unexpected interactions, etc., but Larian have worked their fucking tails off to make a fully functional automated D&D combat system and a story that has a monumental amount of potential variables, and speaking as a programmer it makes my head hurt just thinking about all of the moving parts that must be involved in making this work.

And they seem to be blasting through fixes at an incredible rate too. This is a good development team who seem to have a brilliant combination of technical know-how, good humor, community-mindedness, and passion for their source material, and I'm incredibly impressed even in the short amount of time that I've been playing the game so far.

Obviously I already knew about the addition of the epilogues, which it sounds like makes the ending much more satisfying overall, but some other things that stuck out to me:

"While at camp, you can now access and manage the inventories of companions who aren't in your active party." Yesssss; this has been one of the more annoying aspects of the game up to this point.

"You can now sell and barter items inside containers when trading." This will simplify things for me given I have a System involving Karlach and Shadowheart each carrying a Bag Of Crap to sell.

"Improved grouping and sorting of items in containers while trading." Please tell me this means all the dyes will finally be grouped together when I try to buy them for hoarding.

"A romanced Minthara can now refer to her bond with you using a drow word for deep, unbreakable love." Minthara is probably coming a good deal later in priority on my playthroughs but this is cute.

"Withers will sneakily resurrect any dead companions that fell before the final battle so they can join the ending cinematics. What a helpful skeleton." Good job, Withers.

"The loading screen art now unlocks gradually as you progress through the game." That's a neat touch.

"Fixed occasional T-poses and frozen animations related to the Incapacitated condition." No more T-posing drunk goblins!

"Fixed the combat UI not automatically skipping to the next available party member after a controlled character dies." I think this was why Hector's whole party almost died to the Selune lasers. XD

"Two new play modes: Honour Mode and Custom Mode." No idea what that implies at all but I'm intrigued. More content!

"Improved Astarion's Ascendant route at-will gnome kiss for masculine body types." This is not relevant to any playthrough I'm currently doing but just reinforces what I was talking about above, regarding the incredible number of variables this game juggles (for the most part super successfully).

Also quite a lot of updates that just made me laugh:

"Boo will no longer take damage when thrown."

"When players start a combat inside the Elfsong Tavern, all the patrons will now cower instead of continuing to drink."

"You can no longer use the awesome force of bombs to flip the switch behind the final door in the Gauntlet of Shar to force the door to open."

"You can no longer loot the entire inventory of unconscious traders - instead you have access to a limited selection, as with dead traders. Nice try, pacifists."

"Added the intensely satisfying 'Ahhh' sound for players who Short Rest using a keybind rather than a UI button."

"Shar is now aware of Shadowheart's actions even if she is using Disguise Self."

"Using the lift in the House of Healing when in Turn-Based Mode no longer causes it to loop between floors indefinitely upon exiting Turn-Based Mode."

"Fixed a rare bug where Halsin would decide to turn into a bear whenever you went to talk to him at camp in the Shadow-Cursed Lands."

"If Wyll somehow managed to avoid Mizora's punishment for keeping Karlach alive, he'll be punished retroactively."

"Fixed Astarion accidentally telling the Dark Urge's future."

"Astarion no longer asks the Dark Urge about killing Isobel even if they didn't."

"You no longer comment on Mol if you haven't met her before."

"Locke no longer blames Zevlor for his death if Zevlor died in Act I."

"Fixed several instances of sleeping goblins waking up wanting a chat when they should have been hostile."

"Halsin will no longer forget about saving Thaniel if you travel back to Act I while he's waiting at the lakeside. Focus, Halsin."

"Players who arrive to the Ketheric showdown shape-shifted will have to face him person-to-person, not apostle-to-badger."

"If Isobel is thrown off her balcony, she'll make more of an effort to get back upstairs again."

"Fixed some beggars in the Brampton District facing the wrong way when asking for coin."

"Dame Aylin no longer waits ten days to bring up the time she killed Ketheric Thorm."

"We have convinced Shadowheart not to join the final nautiloid combat if she is already dead."

"Umberlee's worshippers are now considerably more security-conscious about the donations in the Water Queen's House. "

"Fixed a state where the Chamber of Insight trial could be both succeeded and failed."

"Apprentice Laridda will no longer assume you to be the bearer of bad (break-up) news if you didn't bring her the break-up message."

"Ravengard should now use the correct pronouns when addressing you during the ceremony in Wyrm's Rock."

"Karlach no longer thinks she's left the Hells when you explore the rocky outcrop near Hope's prison."

"Added a profanity filter for custom map markers. You'll have to find more creative ways to label the kennel master."

"Splitting a green dye stack in the Traveller's Chest at camp will no longer change the dye's rarity from Uncommon to Very Rare."

"The hanging cages in Cazador's dungeon will no longer tell you they're safe to step on, only to drop you to your death in the chasm below."

"Fixed Mirkon sometimes cowering in fairly deep water when you talk to him while he's running away from the harpies."

"Improved Cazador's home security by locking a chest and a door."

"Locked one of the Caza-doors."

"Fixed padded armour sometimes appearing as underwear on bigger body types. "

"A dead fisherman on the beach will no longer hint that you can find Shadowheart just ahead if you are, in fact, Shadowheart."

"Minthara's haughty stare will now correctly look at players she's talking to towards the end of the game. "

V excited to continue my playthrough, even more than I was already. Feels like we're in good hands. :)

[love-strawberry]

met you at the right time

summary : in which they break up but find their way back to each other.

pairing : harry styles x reader

warnings : language

author's note : hiiiiii!! omg i missed on writing here, im so sorry for going mia but im back!! requests are open and so is my inbox, go crazy. i love you all, thank you for sticking around. also, this fic is inspired by feels like by gracie abrams

tagged : @slut4benbarnes @ellora-brekker @0oolookitsme @ateliefloresdaprimavera

masterlist

navigation

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liked by tchalamet, taylorswift, chrisevans and 4,719,714 others

y/n_ 'in the morning i'll be better' out now!! for the past 11 months, i've put my EVERYTHING in this album and to see it releasing is a dream come true. hope you all like this album <3 thank you so much for supporting me, i love you all endlessly!!

105,829 comments

username this hurt

username "i play pretend, try to act like i'm fine, look the other way, so you don't see me cry, i'm fine, look, it's alright" ouch-

username "cause even when im drunk you're the one i'd call, 2:30 in the morning and you seemed like home" hurts my soul

arianagrande AHHHHHH

username "cause what if i don't wanna lose you, what if missed it and now it's over"

username her and harry </3

username she went from "writing our names on the walls, said forever and that stayed true" to "now im scratching our initials trying to make sense of what happened"

selenagomez !!!!!

username "cause now you got some inside jokes with the others and im still replaying your laugh in my mind, i do mind, yeah im not fine"

username my head hurts thinking about her and harry

username i wanna scream and ugly cry now i miss harry and y/n so fucking much like why did they have to break up

louist91 so beautiful love!!! loved it so much <3

niallhoran 🦋🦋🦋

username I KNOW WE NEVER LABELLED IT BUT I'D LIKE TO THINK YOU WERE IT FOR ME, MY FOREVER, MY HEART AND SOUL, MY LOVER FORLORN

conangray brb gonna go and scream into my pillow, bang my head into the wall and ugly cry </3

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liked by billieeilish, jefezoff, mitchrowland and 4,529,951 others

harrystyles 'same group of friends' out now. i hope you all love it as much i did. thank you so much for you support, i love you x

175,528 comments

username ouch

username "cause we got the same group of friends, they keep quiet and try not to strike a nerve when it comes to you and i"

username 😭

jefezoff loving this so much

username im thoroughly convinced that harry and y/n are out to kill us with sadness with these songs

username "can't we just be friends like we were before, or did we just start it for it to come back and ruin us all, guess it's the problem in dating someone you already know"

username my (yourshipname) </3

username please please please PLEASE get back together, my mental health is at sake

louist91 heartwrenching song mate!! loved it

username the chorus>>

username i listened to this song and my soul ascended to heaven

niallhoran amazing beautiful brilliant awesome

username 😭😭

username it's okay, didn't need my heart anyway

mitchrowland in awe of you

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liked by harolddddstylez, y/nheartsharry, (yourshipname)_ and 268,725 others

celebri.tea harry styles and y/n y/l/n broke hearts of millions after announcing their breakup 5 months ago. their publicity team claimed that "it wasn't the right time", "right person, wrong time" and "they weren't seeing a lot of eachother". though, styles and y/l/n have sparked rumours after being spotted together in london, sharing a kiss after styles' show. sources close to them said that "they both sat down and tried to make it work. and it is working, clearly." to read the full article, click here.

68,827 comments

username YESSS

username if they're back together, im gonna cry

username okay so we go heartbreak album from y/n and a heartbreaking song from harry AND they're apparently back together?? harry and y/n won fr

username screaming crying throwing up sliding down the wall banging my head

username brb gonna scream

username JEHXJANXHNSKSMSHXMKAKAJS

username THE IT COUPLE YESS

username so glad that they tried to make things work out

username im sorry for the person i'll become when they announce their relationship

username i bet they're gonna look back at their heartbreak songs and laugh lmfao

username yes yes yes yes yes yes yES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES

username thank fuck

username really hoping this is true

username 😭😭

username everyone, we might be getting them back

username i felt like a child of divorce

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liked by harrystyles, tchalamet, oliviarodrigo and 4,325,824 others

y/n_ met you at the right time

tagged harrystyles

196,528 comments

username no amount of preparation could've prepared for the 2nd pic

username HSISJXNSKXHDHSJKXKSKDJDNDJCKS

username yeah, my cat needs to hear this

niallhoran thank god 🤍🦋

username 😭😭

username my parents

username y'all still paying for the damage you caused with your music

arianagrande love love love loveeeeeeee you both

zendaya FUCKING FINALLY YES

zayn thank you, khai didn't wanna spend christmas with auntie y/n and new year's day with uncle harry

username their friends being relieved is a mood

harrystyles i'm gonna spend every lifetime making it the right time for us <3 i love you

-> y/n_ i love you more than i'll EVER be able to convey

username WHEN?? IS?? IT?? MY?? TURN??

username 🤍👄🤍

username 🦋🦋🦋

selenagomez so happy for you 🤍🦋

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liked by y/n_, tchalamet, mitchrowland and 4,629,925 others

harrystyles this is what it feels like

tagged y/n_

189,628 comments

username HSJDIXJSMXLSMJZ

username THEM>>>

username they're so beautiful

username bi panic

mitchrowland yesssss

tchalamet good, maybe now she'll stop calling me at night to cry about how she missed you

-> y/n_ you're on thin fucking ice timothee

username full on sobbing

username FUCK YESSSS YESSSS

username ❣️❣️❣️

username they invented being in love

y/n_ it feels Iike heaven

-> harrystyles loving you does feel like heaven

username imagine someone loving you the way harry loves y/n, oh right, you CAN'T

username forever gonna be in awe of you

billieeilish my fav couple 🤍

username they're soulmates

username yes officer, these two right here

username !!!!

niallhoran 💟

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[mia-tiny]

『 Yeosang & Breath Play 』 | KTB ‘22

⇒ pairing: k. yeosang x fem!reader

⇒ smut, consensual breath play (choking), oral (fem receiving), dom yeosang, unprotected sex (big no no), cumming inside, marking

⇒ word count: 1.5k

💕 view my masterlist here

🖤 view my Kinktober ‘22 masterlist here

⇒ author’s note: My king Jin’s Astronaut MV was golden and made me ascend. Do yourself a favor and watch it if you haven’t.

You moan into Yeosang’s mouth as he kisses you passionately, the mood having quickly turned sensual while watching a spicy movie in your living room. It started not long ago with his mischievous hand inching its way up your inner thigh until it grazed across your heat, the sensation making you gasp in pleasure as desire immediately clouded your brain. You decided to playfully return the favor by palming him over his jeans, the both of you needing no words as you made eye contact and knew exactly where this was heading.

Side by side, you now sit with your bodies facing each other while you frantically feel each other up, haphazardly stripping pieces of clothing in the process and letting them litter the floor without care. You grip the hair at the nape of Yeosang’s neck, eliciting a moan as you tug his head back and paint red marks into the porcelain-like skin on his neck. He hisses at the slight sting of your teeth nipping at his flesh, but the pleasure of it far outweighs the pain.

While he enjoys your affection, however, your aggressive behavior quickly awakens his more dominant persona that often shows itself between the sheets. As soon as you attempt to swing your leg over and straddle him, he is using his strength to push you back down into a sitting position, confusing you. Once you look into his eyes and see the burning desire in his gaze, though, you can tell that his power play has begun.

His seductive stare scans over your body, which is now only covered by your bra and panties, and he lets out a satisfied hum of approval. Your Sunday evenings in usually turned out like this, so you made sure to wear your sexiest lacy underwear knowing it would drive him mad. You smirk to yourself seeing that it has done the trick.

“Like what you see?” you taunt with an innocent look.

“These are pretty,” he starts nonchalantly as he begins sinking down onto his knees in front of you. “But I think they would look even prettier on the floor.”

Your core aches with hunger at his words and he hooks his fingers over the waistband of your panties to languidly slide off. In the meantime, you reach back and unclasp your bra, tossing it behind you hastily.

Yeosang places soft kisses along your legs, which feels nice of course, but you are dying for him to pay attention to your sex. Only when you whimper his name in a pout does he chuckle and guide your legs open to admire your pretty pussy, already wet with anticipation.

No longer in the mood to tease, he plunges his tongue straight into your hole with fervor, poking around emphatically as he savors your taste.

“Fuck, baby. I could eat this sweet little cunt all day.”

You don’t even have time to blush at his filthy praise before he licks his way up to your clit and laps at the sensitive bud skillfully. You lift your legs into the air, your hands holding them by the backs of your knees, so that you can open yourself up for him. In response, he harshly sucks your clit into his mouth before flicking over it with his talented tongue.

The pleasure has your whole body tingling as if electricity is running through your veins, moans falling past your lips constantly. The bliss of it all increases tenfold as Yeosang languidly reaches his hand up your torso, playing with your nipples a bit before making its way to wrap around your neck. His pretty fingers squeeze around the sides of your throat to restrict blood flow without actually harming you in any way.

The fuzziness that permeates your mind, combined with the continued sensation of his mouth working wonders, has you moaning indecently. You look down, mouth agape, and meet his eyes as he watches you get lost in the feeling. There is nothing he loves more than seeing your mind go absolutely blank when he overwhelms you with pleasure, the hand he keeps around your neck contributing to the static in your head.

He doesn’t mind the vulgar sounds that fill the room as he ravages your pussy, slurping and lapping at your clit like you are his last meal. The sight and sensation is almost too much to bear, your muscles tensing as your climax builds ruthlessly.

“Yeosang– please– yes,” you pant as he drags you closer and closer to the edge. “I’m gonna–”

Before you can finish your sentence, he abruptly sucks you past his lips once again and you are falling apart with a desperate cry of his name. His hand only leaves your neck once you have come down from the aftershocks of your orgasm, the feeling of the blood rushing back to your head making you dazed. Spent, you watch Yeosang as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and tugs off his remaining clothing to reveal his painfully hard cock.

“Turn over, baby,” he orders, helping your tired body move so that your ass is to him, knees bent so that you’re in a doggystyle position with your arms resting on the back of the couch. “There you go.”

His tip prods at your entrance, avoiding your sensitive clit for now, and he sluggishly pushes into your drenched hole. You both groan as he stretches out your warm walls, your pussy molding to perfectly wrap around his length.

“Holy shit,” he mutters, taking in the euphoria as he stills with his whole dick inside.

His hands caress your ass and lower back with a featherlike touch, sending a shiver down your spine. Goosebumps rise on your skin, each inch of you feeling particularly responsive from the lingering pleasure of your first climax.

With a new, firm grip on your waist, Yeosang holds you in place as he pulls almost all the way out before brutally thrusting back in, the force of it catching you off guard as you choke on a gasp. Your fingers instinctively tighten around the fabric of the cushions to ground yourself as he carries on with his relaxed, but extremely sharp movements. Each time, you fail to fight off the pitiful whimper that escapes your lips.

“Does that feel good, baby?” he drawls as you fight to not get sent flying with every powerful thrust.

“Please, faster,” you mewl in response.

“You want me to fuck you dumb?”

“Yes, please!”

Determined to fulfill your wishes, he picks up his pace exponentially and bends his knees a bit more so that he can hit your g-spot perfectly. He glances downwards to watch himself disappear within your fluttering hole, also admiring the sight of your ass cheeks jiggling from each clash with his hips. A bead of sweat drips down his brow from the exertion, but he pays it no mind as he fixates only on you.

The amount of pleasure concentrated in your core has you feeling like you are underwater, your head fully submerged as the weight of the water bears down on you, making all your movements feel sluggish and heavy. It makes you want more.

“Yeosang, choke me,” you request, craving the adrenaline and dopamine rush that always has you seeing stars.

You feel him lean forward as he wraps his hand around your neck and uses it to pull your upper body against his, your back arching expertly to still allow him the best angle while fucking you. Your hands rest on his hips, allowing him to hold you up only by your throat, which he firmly squeezes along the sides with more fervor than earlier. He brings his face closer to yours in order to whisper dirty praise into your ear, his hot breath making your hair tickle your reddened cheek.

When you moan and arch even further, his balls start to slap against your abused clit constantly. Everything suddenly kicks into overdrive as the pleasure of his cock, his hands, and his words create a perfect symphony of bliss.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath as you clench even tighter around him. “You’re gonna make me cum like that.”

“Me too,” you pant pathetically. “I’m so close.”

Yeosang emits small sounds of concentration as he focuses on having you climax before he can’t take it any longer and fills you up with his cum. By the increasingly high-pitched moans you expel, he knows you are moments away from euphoria, and exerts the last of his energy to have you clenching down on him like a vice grip.

Spots dance in your vision as your orgasm hits you like a freight train, the rest of the world ceasing to exist in that moment as your muscles quiver from how tensely they strain. You don’t even notice Yeosang when he buries his dick in your cunt and releases his hot load, your brain having checked out entirely even after he removes his hand from your neck.

You collapse onto the couch once he pulls out and he joins you, both of you fighting for breath as your exhausted limbs ache with exertion. Finally, Yeosang leans over and places a kiss on your cheek that guides you back to reality, his fingers brushing displaced hairs from your glistening forehead.

“Did I go too hard?” he asks with adoration and care. “Is your neck okay?”

You just flash him a cheeky grin and peck his lips before saying, “Next time, go harder.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Taglist: @minkysmilk @annaflwrs @han8ul @whatudowhennooneseesyou @aishidaishi

[asmallorb]

PIZZA TOWER the Towers & Toppins AU: Character Creation P1

 (Updated 24/03/23)

D&D5e meets Pizza Tower, that’s it. That’s the bit. 

Starting a fun, zero pressured side venture to satiate my current interests and have something to do as I chip away at animating/rendering for my latest freelance gig. I have thoughts and ideas, and I shall be updating the post with anything else I think of as I go along as well as ideas contributed by others, should anyone have any (That and correcting any inevitable typos). All this may even culminate in a playable character sheet.

It should be noted that I am not going to minmaxing builds that have the perfect combination of races, classes and feats. I’m going for what I think is the most fitting/entertaining/creative. 

Peppino Spaghetti:

Race: Variant Human

There is a temptation to make Peppino a half-orc to maximise his tankiness and get access to those sweet sweet racial traits, but Peppino’s appeal is that he is just a guy! A very anxiety riddled, angry, violent middle aged, funny guy. I think human fits him perfectly. Make him a variant human to let us choose an additional proficiency in artisan's tools, specifically cook's utensils, and a feat which I will address later. 

Class(es): Barbarian/ Monk 

Peppino’s build needs to reflect his gameplay - able to take hits, has the tool kit to perform incredible acrobatic feats and speed to overcome just about any terrain or obstacle and has the capacity to deliver an absolute beating on any poor creature standing in his way. You can’t get much better than a Barbarian/Monk multiclass for that.  On the Barbarian side you have an Extra Attack, Fast Movement and  Reckless Attack which as per the description: “you can throw aside all concern for defence to attack with fierce desperation.” On the monk side you’ve got Step of the Wind for dashing around, extra speed if you’re unarmoured (which plays nicely into the Barbarian abilities) and Martial Arts for unarmed strikes with is very much Peppi’s style. And of course, Patient Defense at the start and Evasion later on  which are the perfect taunt equivalents. 

Then there’s the two key abilities of each class that instantly came to mind when I thought of Peppino in the context of D&D. 1) Barbarian Rage. 2) The Monk’s Flurry of Blows.

Look at him go. 

Subclass(es): Barbarian Path of the Ancestral Guardian and Way of the Ascendant Dragon.

I know Path of the Berserker is right there and ticks every box, but hear me out. The class alone is enough to supply the rage that Peppino is well known for, and the Berserker is a very standard option from the PHB. This is a fantasy version of Peppino, not go for something a little more flavourful with our pizza pounding paisano?

Lets give him the barbarian path of the ancestral guardian. Peppino mother-fucking Spaghetti has pasta sauce flowing through his veins. I fully believe that his pizzas are made from a recipe handed down from generation to generation. Authentic, immaculate and impossible to imitate. Peppino’s power comes from the spiritual might of his hot-blooded Italian ancestors and you cannot convince me otherwise. Watch him summon ghostly nonnas wielding rolling pins to battle and tell me that’s not the most fitting and badass thing you ever saw. 

As to what his Monk subclass could be, it took a lot of comparing the published subclasses, and less figuring out what was the most relevant but filtering the completely irrelevant and looking at what was left.  You’ve got subclasses like Way of the Open Palm, Way of Astral Self and the Way of Mercy. And all of these have themes of peace, tranquillity and healing and um...

There’s no way that Peppino fits into those boxes. So what COULD fit? Well we have a theme of cooking going on. Cooking already has this theme of harnessing nature, commanding fire, water and ingredients harvested from the natural world. Could the Way of the Four Elements work? Problem is with that subclass is that it’s sort of not a fun experience unless you heavily house rule it or tweak it through homebrew. Look up the subclass online and most of the chatter around it is focused on fixing it. Additionally, there’s a lot of pausing from doing monk related stuff to fiddle around with spellcasting and that’s not really Peppi’s rush in and hit hard style.  So what did I finally land on? After a lot of thinking I went with Way of the Ascendant Dragon. Dragon’s are iconic monsters and are intrinsically linked with themes of fire, wrath and the natural elements. Plus, dragons in D&D aren’t just mindless monsters, they live for centuries and some even spend years honing magic and mortal crafts. Some we could potentially weave a story here of Peppi’s ancestors somehow being inspired by dragons or being directly granted knowledge of fire and cookery from a dragon in the distant past. OR it was Peppino himself that came into contact with something draconic, there’s a few great flavour options from Fizban's Treasury of Dragons (the source of this monk path), and any one of them could be used. One of them being quote: “You found a scroll written in Draconic that contained inspiring new techniques.“, an old recipe book or scrap of paper for a damn good tomato sauce recipe maybe? 

The abilities of the path also grant monks fit quite nicely from a mechanical standpoint. Draconic Presence helps with intimidation checks, and once Peppi gets going with his dash or snaps the enemies and bosses find him frightening. Plus at 3rd level you get Breath of the Dragon, which can be flavoured to Peppino consuming a devil’s choice spicy pepper. That and the thought of Peppino belching fire in-between mashing foes into paste is very amusing.  !ADDENDUM! I have discovered there’s a 3rd party Barbarian subclass from the Tal'Dorei Campaign Setting called the Path of the Juggernaut. So far I’ve been leaning towards official WotC material, but if you wanted to stat Peppino in such a way that’s more game accurate and focuses purely on his physicality, Juggernaut is a good choice.  Feats: Tavern Brawler. 

Turns absolutely anything you pick up into an improvised weapon, living or material, enemy or friend. He literally uses Gustavo as a thrown projectile at one point. This is the feat for him.