#Preserve Lure

[underground-hip-hop-affiliated]

#Con$piracy #Get Like Me #Preserve Lure #Underground Hiphop

[forcedhesitation]

lorna esthelian is one of the most insane NPCs in all of bg3. you mean to tell me that a man invited you down to the SEWERS to "meet his close friends" at a party IN THE SEWERS and your response to tav pointing out how suspicious that all sounds is to tell them to tell the man that you "weren't interested in a relationship" if they see him.... AS IF A RELATIONSHIP WAS EVEN REMOTELY A POSSIBLE INTEREST OF THIS MAN. miss esthelian do you realise how scary what you had agreed to SOUNDS? even without the vampires??

#bg3 #bg3 spoilers #thoughts about media #I would be less baffled were she aware that this enigmatic man was a vampire and she was just chasing undead dick. #but she is NOT. SHE'S COMPLETELY CLUELESS!!!!!! #“he looked kinda like your friend there!” about the guy who makes jokes about eating her throughout the whole conversation. #this woman has ZERO sense of self-preservation before tav convinces her to get the fuck out of that sewer. #this encounter was to show the player that there are in fact people stupid enough to fall for astarion's poorly crafted lies. #I'm assuming that whoever lured her there wasn't astarion though. just based on the fact that her encounter sounded recent.

[fragmentedblade]

A Blade alt. unit that's Fire Erudition Yingxing when?

#I want this desperately #I would play this game for seven years with all it entails (such as living for another seven years) if after the wait I get to have this #Please I love the idea #And goodness will we get to see the Xianzhou Zhuming? I am so curious about it #Even beyond the fire significance (which lures me on its own‚ I am nothing if not a fire lover). It seems such an interesting place #I am not at all familiar with the proceeding ways of gacha games. How do they evolve? #Are these things‚ a Yingxing unit and visiting the Zhuming‚ a possibility at all? #Goodness I love this character so much I can't stop thinking about him #Why did they have to tailor him so closely to my interests? #But I won't ramble #I'm already talking a lot as it is #I talk too much #I should probably delete this later #I always feel the need to point out I would be content with Fire Abundance Yingxing if not Erudition #Conceptually it works even better both due to his story and the Abundance/Destruction paradoxical similarities #and how that is reflected in the work of a blacksmith #But I really like the idea of Erudition #I guess the construction of auromatons to aid in a war would fit Nihility as well conceptually #The idea of sending something else to fight because you can't do it personally #Nihility Yingxing would also link to Erudition in a similar way in which Jing Yuan is Erudition and Fu Xuan is Preservation I think #However‚ it's not my favourite choice out of the three #In a similar way in which Fu Xuan is Preservation I suppose it could be argued Yingxing could fit that path as well #But I think his motivation being revenge doesn't work all too well with Preservation so it doesn't convince me #Yeah Erudition and Abundance are by far my favourite choices for this thing that won't ever take place #I imagine him dressed with some variation of the craftmaster/furnace master uniform #I like to imagine the Zhuming having not exactly the same uniforms #But the black red and gold could stay. It would visually work for the players to recognise it in the uniforms we saw in the Luofu #And the colour palette would also match Blade's still so there would be the link there visually as well #Also it is just pretty #Ahdksbjfjd I should stop thinking so much and so often about something that won't come to be

[cerayanay]

The scene where the deal was made changed my perspective on both Roderick and Madeline. We see the entire show that Madeline is the harder, colder and more ambitious of the two, but Roderick hardly even hesitating with making the deal to sell his children’s lives. Madeline hesitated greatly, and based off her body language in that scene, if Roderick had turned down the deal she would have as well.

On top of that, Madeline says she did not have any children her entire life because of the deal, Madeline puts security guards on all the remaining Usher children, and Madeline tries to preserve Lenore as an AI. Roderick seemed completely resigned to his families fate the entire show.

Also seeing that it was Madeline who had the plan for to make Roderick the head of Fortunato, lure Grus to the basement, and planned their alibi for the murder it’s ironic that all she wanted was to not be chained to some man, who dictats her life and ended up being chained to her brother and constantly having to work for his successes

#tfothou #the fall of the house of usher #madeline usher

[pluckyredhead]

What the heck is going on in Batman/Gotham War?

I know a lot of people in fandom are confused and/or upset about what's been going on in Gotham War - why is Bruce acting like this, what is Selina doing, why are the Batkids taking sides. So I figured I would fill you all in on what's been happening in Batman and Catwoman since Chip Zdarsky took over with Batman #125, because it has been BONKERS and I have been enjoying the hell out of it.

Below, the quickest summary I can manage while still being comprehensive:

[Content warning: mental illness, abuse, suicide (...ish), LOTS of violence.]

The first arc, "Failsafe," starts with Batman and Robin (Tim, in this case) in pursuit of the Penguin, who is on a killing spree. In the very first issue, Tim gets shot in the neck. Bruce has to take him to the hospital, but first he has to strip him out of his costume and put him in civilian clothes to preserve their secret identities, triggering memories of when he had to do the same to Jason's dead body. There is LITERALLY NO PURPOSE TO ANY OF THIS EXCEPT WHUMP (Tim is back in action with a fucking BAND-AID on his neck very quickly), which is how I knew this was going to be good. Beat Tim up! Make Bruce cry about Jason! I want these men to suffer! (There is also SO much to be said about Tim's own Poor Mental Health Decisions throughout the entirety of Zdarsky's run so far, but that's for a separate meta post.)

Anyway. Bruce leaves Tim in the hospital and goes to confront Penguin, who turns out to be dying of mercury poisoning. He kills himself and makes it look like Batman did it, forcing Bruce to flee. (Penguin actually faked his death and is alive elsewhere under an alias, but that's not important right now.)

In the Batcave, a massive robot called Failsafe emerges. Failsafe attacks Bruce, who usually eats killer robots for breakfast, but he can't seem to get the upper hand on this one. Duke, Cass, Steph, and Dick show up to help, but Failsafe beats them all too, while Tim gets an injured Bruce away and to the Batcave.

In the Batcave, Bruce puts on a weird purple and red Batman costume and a new personality takes over: the Batman of Zur-En-Arrh. Now, Zur has a very complicated history going back to 1958, but for the purposes of this story, all you need to know is that when he was younger, Bruce decided it would be good to hang out in a sensory deprivation chamber until his mind created a secondary personality, Zur, who is essentially Batman without Bruce. Zur is pure efficiency who does not care about anything but the mission. He created Failsafe, for one purpose: to kill Bruce if Bruce ever crossed the line and killed someone. And right now, Failsafe believes that Bruce killed Penguin.

Failsafe nearly kills Tim, which Zur is okay with writing off as an expendable soldier's death, but this causes Bruce to take control of the body back because "Tim isn't my soldier...HE'S MY SON!" (Tim Nation, why are you not ALL OVER this story? It's catnip.)

Babs calls in the JLA (SuperBat fans, you will also want to read Bruce's adoring description of Clark when he shows up), but of course Failsafe has kryptonite, which it stabs Clark with. The League dumps Clark and Bruce into the JLA jet and distracts Failsafe while Tim flies Clark and Bruce to the Fortress of Solitude. Bruce tells Tim he's a good boy and jumps out of the jet and into the ocean so that Tim and Clark will be safe from Failsafe. He's rescued by Arthur, who takes him to Atlantis to heal. THIS HAS ALL ONLY BEEN FOUR ISSUES SO FAR.

Two weeks later, Bruce wakes up to discover that Failsafe has taken over Gotham. He teleports up to the JLA Watchtower on the moon to lure Failsafe there, then blows the Watchtower up, hoping to catch a ride on one of the Javelins. But Failsafe has already destroyed them, so Bruce RIDES A BOOSTER ROCKET BACK TO EARTH, OXYGEN MASK CLAPPED OVER HIS FACE. The whole thing has some powerful Scooty-Puff Jr energy.

The only tricky part is reentry, when Bruce starts to burn up - his costume is fireproof, of course, but his chin is exposed. SO HE TAKES OFF HIS LITTLE BAT-PANTIES AND PUTS THEM OVER HIS HEAD. I swear to god this happened in a real comic book and the entire "Bruce falls off the moon and survives" sequence is utterly delectable goofy nonsense and I truly cannot recall a time I've had more fun reading a comic book.

Anyway, Bruce lands directly outside of the Fortress, BECAUSE OF COURSE HE DOES, and runs inside to find Clark and Tim. While Clark keeps Failsafe distracted, Bruce and Tim program nanobots to inject compassion into Failsafe. I SWEAR TO GOD. They zap him with the nanobots, but Failsafe pulls a high tech space gun out of the Fortress and shoots Bruce with it anyway, apparently disintegrating him. Tim falls to his knees in the snow, weeping. TIM NATION, WAKE UP, THIS RUN IS CANDY FOR YOU.

But of course Bruce isn't dead! That wasn't a killing gun, it was a "zap you into another dimension" gun!!! THAT was the compassion!

So Bruce finds himself in a dystopian alternate Gotham, and I'll be honest, I didn't love this arc ("The Bat-Man of Gotham") as much as I loved "Failsafe," but it has its moments. In this Gotham, Bruce Wayne is dead, so Regular Bruce is like "Oh boy, time to Batman this place up." Also he's plagued by hallucinations of a skeleton version of Jim Gordon who is still wearing a trench coat AND A MUSTACHE. Like I said, it has its moments.

This Gotham is controlled by Arkham, and anyone who is diagnosed as "crazy" is locked up. A new villain, Red Mask, is in charge, and Selina and a Venomed-up Harvey Dent work for him. Bruce teams up with an orphan kid (of course) named Jewel and goes after Red Mask, who turns out to be some guy named Darwin Halliday and ALSO...the Joker. Well, he's the Joker who hasn't been Jokerized yet. But one time he breathed in some chemicals that let him see into the main reality of the DCU (???) and glimpsed Regular Joker and now he wants to build an interdimensional machine to mentally connect with Regular Joker across universes which he assumes will make him insane, NATURALLY.

Bruce attacks Red Mask, who sics a Venomed-up Ghost Maker on him. Ghost Maker cuts off Bruce's right hand. Bruce cauterizes it with an electroshock machine and ties some spikes on it (SERIOUSLY) and goes after Red Mask again. Meanwhile Red Mask mentally connects with an alternate dimensional Joker...but instead of it driving Red Mask insane, he's what drives the Joker insane. Desperate to become the Joker somehow, anyhow, he jumps into the interdimensional portal, and Morally Dubious Alternate Universe Selina kicks Bruce in after him.

Meanwhile, Tim is in full "I KNOW I SAW HIM DIE BUT HE'S NOT DEAD" mode, which: bless. So he teams up with Jon Kent, which...gosh, what an astonishingly boring duo. I love Jon, I love Tim, they're perfectly nice and normal around each other, I'm falling asleep. Anyway Tim fights Toyman for a while and then makes a VERY stupid costume where the entire torso is a giant light-up R, because "I want him to see that Robin is coming to save him." GET A THERAPY, TIM.

Bruce finds himself first in the Michael Keaton Batman universe, then the Red Rain universe, BTAS, Batman Beyond (yes I know they're the same universe but I guess he goes there twice), Silver Age, Kingdom Come, Gotham by Gaslight, and more. Adam West gives him a utility belt. The Dark Knight Returns Bruce builds him a robot hand.

Finally Bruce and Red Mask reach the end of the multiverse, which is a Gotham asteroid floating in space, surrounded by giant Jokerized sharks. LUCKILY BRUCE HAS BAT-SHARK REPELLANT IN HIS ADAM WEST UTILITY BELT!!! Honestly this whole arc was worth it for that moment.

Bruce knocks Red Mask out, but now he's stuck. He has a device from Batman Beyond Bruce to get home, but it's only good for one person, and he can't leave Red Mask there to die. Of course, that's when Tim shows up in his stupid giant glowing R costume and they hug it out, thereby fulfilling but also compounding all of Tim's issues since 1989.

Anyway things are fine now, right? Sure, Bruce is hallucinating that his family is on fire, and the Zur personality is not going neatly back into the box where it's been all these years, and he still has a robot hand (Damian, hilariously, immediately announces that he wants one too), but he's FINE. He is a little bit mad at Selina, because she broke out of jail (she was in jail because she killed her fuckbuddy because he was trying to kill Bruce), and also because she didn't tell him Penguin was alive and that would have stopped Failsafe, and also because Other Selina kicked into another universe. Selina, very fairly, is like "Well I'm not responsible for Other Selinas and also maybe don't build robots to kill yourself with and not tell anyone about them???"

THEN we got Knight Terrors, the summer event in which a villain called Nightmare caused everyone to fall asleep and, uh, have nightmares. Bruce, specifically, had a nightmare that he met an eight-year-old version of himself that vomited up a man-sized bat with a gun for a head. I laughed SO HARD. Bruce also had his body borrowed by Deadman for the duration of the event, so while he endured the psychological toll of nightmares like everyone else, he also endured the physical toll of everything Deadman was doing PLUS the mental toll of being aware of what was happening in the waking world even though he couldn't control his body. As soon as the event was over, he lapsed into a coma so that his body could get some damn rest.

Okay. Now we're up to Gotham War.

(I know, I know. But for all of you who are like "How could Bruce do this???" about Gotham War...*points up* THAT'S HOW. HE IS NOT WELL.)

Bruce awakens from his coma and IMMEDIATELY decides to Fight A Crime even though Babs is like "Maybe don't?" But he can't find any crime, which is...weird. His kids confirm that Gotham's been super quiet since he's been out.

Selina hears that Bruce is awake and is like okay, time to pay the piper. She calls all of the Bats to a meeting and explains that she's the reason crime has been down. See, villains like Joker and Two-Face always have goons, right? But what if the goon supply dried up because the goons have better jobs? So Selina has trained All The Goons In Gotham to be...cat burglars. No violence, no stealing from anyone who can't afford it. More importantly, no helping Scarecrow or whoever commit mass murder.

All of the Batkids are like "Hmm...I feel uncertain about this, but it's working...I don't know what to think..." except for Jason, who thinks it's hilarious and is instantly Team Selina, and Damian, who is staunchly Team Bruce. Bruce, meanwhile, is like "No! NO! THIS IS CRIMES, AND CRIMES IS BAD!" and Selina's like "I mean, robbing from the rich is basically a victimless crime" and Bruce screams, I swear to god, "MY PARENTS WERE 'RICH'!" Inexplicable scare quotes and all. I laughed so hard.

Anyway this is the basis for Gotham War and it is endlessly hilarious to me because everyone in the Batfamily is supposed to be a genius and yet not one single character has pointed out that:

There are jobs the goons could be doing that AREN'T illegal. It's not just violent crime vs. nonviolent crime. There are in fact many other jobs! I am POSITIVE Gotham needs construction workers and hospital orderlies. (Yes, I know it's hard for people with records to get jobs. That isn't addressed.)

Being Batman is SUPER ILLEGAL.

They are all so stupid.

Selina's plan doesn't even work, because one of her thieves gets killed by a rich person defending their home, and Bruce is like "See? This is why crime is bad!" and like...pretty much snaps. He's particularly fixated on Jason, even (rhetorically) threatening to kill him, which is when the other kids jump into the fray on Jason's side, all except for Damian, who like I said is firmly Team Bruce. (This makes complete sense to me, Damian has been dealing with severe trauma and isolation pretty much nonstop since 2018 and he and Bruce have finally made a tenuous peace, so I can understand why he wouldn't want to lose that.)

Also, Vandal Savage buys Wayne Manor. It's so random and SO funny.

OKAY BATMAN #138. Bruce has kidnapped Jason and injected him with a variation on fear toxin which will be triggered whenever Jason's adrenaline spikes, the idea being that Jason is no longer capable of killing - but in practice, Jason is no longer capable of even getting up off the floor, he's so terrified. I want to be really, really clear here: Bruce is like 90% Zur here, and the only reason he goes this route and doesn't kill Jason is because the remaining 10% that's still Bruce loves Jason and is trying to help him. He's just incapable of good or humane help because Zur literally can't do feelings.

Dick knows something is up and is sneaking around Bruce's Secret Other House We've Never Heard Of to figure out what it is. Damian attacks him to protect Bruce. Tim attacks Damian so that Dick can do what he needs to do, and handcuffs Damian to a parking meter:

THERE IS SO MUCH TO UNPACK HERE!!! TIM GO TO THERAPY! DAMIAN GO TO THERAPY! EVERYONE GO TO THERAPY!!!!!

Dick figures out what Bruce did to Jason (it's on the computer, for...some reason?) and absolutely loses his shit on Bruce, beating the crap out of him, which tbh is the only thing that felt off to me in this run because frankly I don't think Dick likes Jason that much. BUT WHATEVER.

Tim pulls Dick off of Bruce. Bruce leaves them both tangled in a net and flees as the cops approach. Zur's like "Good, fuck 'em" in Bruce's head, because the cops will expose Dick, Tim, and Damian's secret identities and Bruce will be free of the dead weight of a family, but the little bit of Bruce still in there throws Dick a batarang so he can free them all in time.

Then Bruce leaves. Damian is devastated.

I WILL NEVER RECOVER FROM THIS PAGE. Damian really thought he could have Bruce's love and loyalty if he turned on everyone else! Tim is going to be a therapy dog to a Wayne even if he has to settle for the one he doesn't like! That unresisting, blank hug made me SCREAM when I turned the page. Incredible. (Also the art fucking S L A P S, god bless you Jorge Jimenez.)

ALSO it turns out that Selina's second in command has been Vandal Savage's daughter Scandal Savage the whole time and they are turning Selina's cat burglar army into their own personal army WHOOPS. (This also feels very OOC for Scandal but at this point I trust Zdarsky with my life so let's see where things go.)

SO THAT'S WHAT'S GOING ON IN GOTHAM WAR. TL;DR:

Bruce is unhinged because he nearly died like 19 times in a week and it unlocked the smaller, meaner purple Batman that lives inside him.

Selina is unaware that you can get money legally.

Tim is going to have a nervous breakdown if he can't fix someone, ANYONE.

Damian needs a hug but ideally from someone he actually likes this time.

Jason is so scared.

THE END.

#batman #bruce wayne #gotham war #meta #i can't believe how long this is

[silkjade]

alhaitham x mermaid! reader

⤀ warnings: fem! reader, no pronouns mentioned a/n: another thing sitting in drafts that I was actually saving for Mermay ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓇼 next ﾉ series masterlist

He was out at a cove, a little ways off from port ormos, studying newly discovered runes carved along the sea cavern walls. Your song was supposed to lure him to his watery grave, but….

“These earpieces are soundproof.” You’re caught by surprise when he responds in your language. His pronunciation is a little off, but to be fair, merfolk are an ancient race and haven’t been sighted in a very long time. As such, whatever linguistic knowledge that’s been preserved up until now is… distorted at best.

The two of you strike up a deal: you help him perfect the language of your people, and he’ll introduce you to the wonders of the world above. A fair exchange. You agree to meet at this same cove on nights of the full moon, although the interval between these meetings grow increasingly shorter, so much so that you find yourself visiting this human once a week. He’d always arrive just as the sun sets, skipping a chunk of crystal ore out into the sea, indicating his arrival.

“And what did you bring for me today?”

“These are called zaytum peaches.”

“Ooh they’re sweet! And jucier than bubble berries…”

“I wasn’t aware fruits could grow underwater.”

Alhaitham is a scholar with an eager mind, so when things peak his interest, it’s second nature to want to satiate his curiosities. He asks his questions, but never pushes you to answer. With time, you grow comfortable enough around him to openly divulge your life beneath the waves, and it becomes a wonderful exchange of language and culture.

“Would you like to come underwater?”

“I know you didn't like the harra fruit today, but I thought you'd given up trying to drown me. Soundproof earpieces remember?” he says, tapping said headphones.

You roll your eyes, pulling yourself further up out of the water, until your faces are only mere inches apart. That's not what you meant at all.

"They say a mermaid's kiss will give you the ability to breathe underwater...let me show you my world." Your voice, hypnotizingly low and sultry, immediately send alarms ringing in his head. Your fingers brush against his cheek, your touch feather light as you whisper into his naked ear, "Do you trust me?"

In the time alhaitham had spent with you, he had never forgotten about the dangers of a mermaid's seduction. But at this proximity, with you so close and your voice so enchanting... he feels his head spin, like he's in some sort of trance where it's nigh impossible to deny you anything. As if by instinct, alhaitham subconsciously reaches for the headphones hanging around his neck— his safety net, his life raft.

You pull away, sinking back into the waters. So he doesn't trust you. It's no surprise due to the nature of your very being, and to hope otherwise would be foolish. Still, its difficult to hide the irritation and hurt that laces your words before you bid him an awkward farewell.

Once you disappear into the sea, alhaitham lets out a groan, burying his face in his hands. Next time you meet, if you decide to return at all, he'll remember to teach you about the intricacies of human courtship rituals.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

a/n 2: alhaitham is allergic to rizz ;\ this was supposed to be just a short brainrot but i had so many thoughts about this (and still have more unwritten) anyways i love mermay what a great month to be online, so much pretty art

© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

#— 𝓼𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓙. ༯ #alhaitham x reader #genshin x reader #al haitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #alhaitham fluff #genshin impact drabbles #genshin drabbles #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader fluff #genshin alhaitham #genshin impact headcanons #genshin imagines #mermaid au #mermaid!reader #𓇼 — 𝓼𝓲𝓵𝓴𝓳𝓪𝓭𝓮'𝓼 𝓶𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓲𝓭 𝓪𝓾

[nrdmssgs]

CONGRATS ON 500, you 100% deserve it and more !!! 🥹🌷💐 i just love your art and work so, so much!!

if it's alright, can i request 37 with könig? my husband, i need him !!!! 😮‍💨

Masterlist List of prompts What? An author, who practically inspired me to come here and start writing? An author, who gifted me the biggest brainrot for many sides of König? Sends me a request? Orla, I am such a huge fan!!!!!! I love your style, love your bold, picturesque oneshots, love your eagerness to discover so many themes. I owe you so much, you don't have an idea. I made a text and a picture in case, you don't like the text. Sorry, I'm fangirling and I'm nervous)

Does it make you nervous, when I stare?

Pairing: KonigxReader Warning: this is NSFW. And König here is not the shyest guy on Earth, because this is colonel edition.

Oh, the things, you would let this man do to you. Unspeakable, ungodly things. Things so unhinged, you wouldn't mention them even after a few rounds of shots with your besties.

One sight of his fingers tapping the tabletop during the debriefing, and you can't think about anything other than the salty taste on your lips, left by his thumb. It would take him just one word, or maybe even one glance to make you cover his index and middle finger in saliva, as he would slide them against your tongue. You'd be so good - standing on your knees for him, sucking his fingers so eagerly, fighting your own gag reflex.

One glance thrown at his forearms, tightly hugged by black cloth, and you imagine his massive hands picking you up like you weigh nothing at all. You'd freeze, learn to hold your breath for as long as he wants, until you'd feel only the brush of his mouth against yours and the grumble of his impatience when he pushes in. The intoxicating thickness of his tongue against yours would be a taste that would rocket to your core and melt you from the inside, as he'd hover over you, pushing apart your legs with the brush of his massive thighs between yours. He'd take and take and take. And how obediently will you keep giving him anything, he demands.

Looking at his hips is a serious danger. Slick outlines of his muscles, his fingers brushing up and down his lap, black holster straps spanning his thigh make you go absolutely feral. You'd be standing still, feeling his low growl with your entire body. You'd hold your hands high against the wall and arch your back, so he can have access to every single part of your body. You'd accept him reminding you, with each his hungry thrust, where your place is: wrapped in his arms while he rubs you senseless, his teeth on your neck leaving you on the edge of pain.

All that fantasies you could hide from König, if it wasn't for his eyes: deep cold silver light, sparkling with interest, every time, he caught you staring. You couldn't make yourself look away: his stare was a predatory gaze, luring you closer, easing you into a thought of coming closer, stripping you of any bit of self-preservation instinct. Yes, when he caught your eyes - König took his time, ravishing in a sight of your desperate blush, letting go of you and turning his gaze away only when you were literally choking with shame, trying to drive away the visions that he awakened in your mind. This man was to become the end of you, and every next day it was only harder to fight that feeling off.

So when you hear, he is expanding his team, it feels only natural to surrender and use this ghostly opportunity to get closer to him. You know, your chance to join the team, his inner circle, is almost zero. By no means, you can be considered a poor professional, but the Colonel is a legend here. He doesn't want just 'the best' he wants those outstanding even from the best. And your personnel files scream 'just good' at best. But you have a motivation, the one so strong and specific, that maybe only you here have. Your obsession with König is pushing you to the darkest void, you were too scared to come to earlier - the threshold of his office.

"Come in." His voice at it finest: not too loud, not too harsh, all honey and slumber. When he wants, he can be mesmerizing as a siren.

You clench your hand into a fist behind your back, thus trying to calm the trembling that is rolling up to your knees.

"Just don't look him in the eyes, and it would be ok. Hands, yes, you can bear looking at his hands and not lose it. Afterward you can have whatever you want - your toys, your fingers, your cushions... Just look at his hands, breathe deep, and it all will be alright." Your inner monologue is interrupted only when he is pulling a folder from your hands, obviously tired of waiting for you to finally give it to him.

"What do we have he- oh..." Your breath hitches, you practically hear an uncanny smile spreading across his face.

"Die Kleine will in meinem Spiel?*" König sounds amused. And although you don't entirely understand, what he said - you get the message and nod, not daring to look him in the eyes.

"Very good. I could use such a treasure..." He flips the pages and clicks his tongue when some of your personal indicators impress him. And before you manage to exhale, he adds: "But I'll need to test you. See, if you are... ready."

"Anything, Colonel!" You blurt it out and immediately shut your mouth, realizing that it might sound ambivalent. But that's enough to make König raise from his seat and lead you from offices to firing range.

You blame it upon a rush of blood to your head, but you pass his test with flying colors. Physical tests, advanced weaponry, strategy, even sparing with König leaves you alive and just a little trembling.

The thing, that breaks you, is not even a test or a check. It happens late in the evening, when you two end up in the locker room. You just need to remove one layer of the tactical gear you were using, you'll still have your shirt and jeans on. But you stop, paralyzed, seeing out of the corner of your eye how König leans against the wall, arms folded on his chest. His gaze, you feel his gaze: lingering and hungry.

"What's wrong, treasure? Are you hurt?" You are afraid to answer and reveal your trembling voice, so you just shake your head.

"You don't know, how to loosen those straps? Want me to help you?" Again: you only shake your head, hiding your gaze.

"Is it my eyes, that make you that nervous, Schatzi*?" His accent thickens, voice drops low, as he steps closer.

You instinctively lean back, but hit the wall behind you. He takes one more step towards you and places his hand between the wall and the back of your head, so that you don't hurt yourself occasionally. But very soon, he guides you to finally look up at him. There it is: silver light, that you can never look away from, once you saw it.

"Talk to me. There can be no secrets inside my team." His voice is soft once again, but you know, it is a trap. And you fall for it.

"I just get distracted. Don't worry, Colonel, I'll learn to ignore it or to live quietly with it. Sorry..." Your voice, your entire body, is trembling.

"There's nothing to apologize for." Something sparkles deep inside his eyes. He moves his veil up, so you can see his lips, and leans right to your ear. "In fact, how about you come at the same time to my office tomorrow, treasure? After all, you've proven, you can be so good for me... It's my turn to convince you, I too can be good for you, Schatzi."

Die Kleine will in meinem Spiel? - Little one wants in my game?

Schatzi - little treasure

#konig mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod #cod mw2 #könig #cod x reader #konig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig call of duty #cod smut #konig smut #konig modern warfare #konig x you #konig imagine #konig headcanons #konig scenario #konig x reader #konig x y/n #könig x reader #könig headcanons #könig smut #könig call of duty #könig x you #call of duty #mw2

[senseandaccountability]

I never feel older, crasser or more like a dry, boring literature nerd than when people say they find non-ascended Astarion’s ending so sad and wish there was a better one. To me, this is one of the best written storylines in the game. In all of the RPGs I’ve played, even. It’s extremely emotionally rewarding and thematically satisfying and boy, am I not used to that from my favourite media. (Forever looking at you, Lucifer.) Is it bittersweet? Absolutely. But tragic? No. 

Astarion rejecting the ritual despite knowing what it means is anything but tragic - it's powerful, it's the best and most resilient in him shining through. Regardless of how shitty the circumstances were, he made a choice when he made that deal with Cazador. A choice that gave him two centuries of hell. His life as a puppet to Cazador was a tragedy, it left him with no choices, it limited his every move and infringed on the freedom of his mind. It had one driving force: to make him a malleable tool, to help up the stakes in an already viciously brutal system. 

In Cazador’s manor he is faced with a choice once again. To him, as obsessed with the ritual and the lure of power as he is during that questline, the circumstance must feel similar to the ones in that street corner when the Gurs had beaten him to death’s door. Death or power. Except it’s not. 

That’s not the deal and it never was. “Having it all” was never, ever on the table. (None of us can have it all outside of self-help books, come on.) There will be a sacrifice either way, just like there was when he sacrificed his autonomy and freedom for eternal life. Astarion’s quest is about seeing through the delusions and trappings of power. It’s about preserving a sense of self, humanity, your soul if you will, no matter how dire the circumstances. It’s about daring to hope that you can change.

“This is a gift, you know. Thank you, I won’t forget it.”

#lilith plays baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #astarion

[loud-mouth-loser]

not him - 2

summary: marc has had his eye on you for a while now. he's seen your interactions with steven and has held himself back from taking you for himself, but what happens after he finally makes a move?

pairing: marc spector x reader

rating: more angst

cw: pining (really intense pining), jealousy, miscommunication, mentions of past kiss.

wc: 2.7k

part one

[author's note is at the end of the chapter to avoid chapter spoilers!]

---

Marc’s POV

It’s your laugh, that soothing, sweet sound – so inviting that he wants it to soak right into his skin. When he hears it, he holds it close to him, making sure he doesn’t miss a single note. Letting it replay in his head until the next time he sees you. 

Marc has never considered himself a funny guy – or hadn’t for a while. He never had a reason to joke around, a reason to smile or laugh, but then there was you.

So now he tries his best to incite that laughter, if only for a mere taste of your sweetness.

He’s equally addicted to that view. The sight of soft lips parting into a bright smile, your shoulders shaking with each stilted breath, your eyes glistening with unerupted joy; a bliss that he’s craved to know since the day his brother passed. And it’s genuine. 

Everything about you is genuine. 

Then, when you come down from the laughter, you look up at him with a ghost of a giggle still thrumming in the air, still tugging at the corner of your mouth. He can’t help but stare back, wishing this moment could last forever. 

It’s just you and him, nursing sweating bottles of beer on his ratty old couch, the TV running quietly in the background as you unconsciously lean closer as the night progresses. He plunges into that gaze wrapped in innocent moments and admiration, a look that whispers unspoken sentiments and unattainable promises. 

You are looking at him, yes, but you also see him. 

He feels it wrap around him, a warmth that reminds him he’s worth being around, that you want to be there with him. It sparks a revelation within himself that if he could make you laugh, or even look at him the way you do, maybe…being him is ok. 

And maybe he wants to stay.   

But then there’s that smile – no, not your usual amused grin or the bashful one he attempts to lure out whenever he gains enough confidence to tell you how pretty you look – the cherry-red lie that’s specially curated for Steven. 

It’s a mask you use to preserve your friendship, to convince the oblivious man that you’re happy for him even when your side of the bond is crumbling, struggling to stand up straight. 

The first time Marc saw that smile was from the reflection in his apartment. 

He usually doesn’t stir or interfere while Steven is fronting, unless there’s an emergency of course, but there was a pang of energy that woke him up. And now he’s wondering if it was you. 

He watched broodily from the fish tank; jaw clenched tight as Steven sat in front of you holding your hands in his. He knows he shouldn’t be jealous, but he can’t help the ire burning low in his chest as he watches you position yourself closer to Steven, eager to hear what he has to say. 

Marc’s eyes drift from your hopeful face to your joined hands. 

He wonders how that feels: to hold your smaller hands in his, to squeeze them just so as to remind him that you’re real and there with him, to feel you squeeze back and run the soft pads of your fingers over his callouses. 

Your softness smoothing over his jagged ends. 

You like it – the touch. Steven’s touch.

He can see it. 

But you’ve always liked it when Steven gives you physical affection, even if it was all platonic. You’d lean into him, practically craving it, eagerly presenting yourself to his hand. And he’d give it to you, merely enjoying the closeness you offer him – nothing more. 

Your eyes are wide, and you lean in, listening intently, but at the same time, you’re not hearing a thing. Marc can see that you’re lost in Steven, a feeling he’s often had around you. 

The giddy comfort you felt from his touch instantly dissolves as he continues to speak, “And we kissed…” You lean back from him, quickly covering your reaction with a blank expression. Marc can see right through it. 

Needless to say, Marc also isn’t too happy hearing about Steven’s escapades with his estranged wife; He’s always been protective of Layla, but now more than ever. Layla had once been his rock, keeping him grounded as life attempted to sweep him away. She was the only person he trusted for a while, the only one he could lean on and hold whenever he wanted to give up. 

Because of that, he left. 

Too much of a great thing can only lead to a horrible ending. 

Right?

He convinced himself he did it because he didn’t want her to get involved in his life of violence, of his life as an avatar. She was always getting dragged into business that wasn’t hers, used as bait to lure him out of the shadows, and Khonshu was starting to hint at making her his next avatar. 

That is a reason, a sound reason, but he can admit now that that wasn’t the main reason. At some point, Marc realized could never love her the way she wanted him to.

When he first felt it, he couldn’t shake it. He was forced to face it until it utterly consumed his thoughts, until he could taste it hanging from each word, turning every whisper into a sour void. He felt unworthy of her affections and ashamed that he continued to take and take, drinking in every last drop of warmth she could supply. Anything to numb that looming darkness that threatens to drag him under the bloody viscous waves of his past. 

And all he could give in return was surface-level words and cool kisses. Guilt dripped from his embrace and soaked against her soft skin, and he knew he had to pull away. 

Steven, the lovesick puppy, was completely oblivious to what he was inviting her back into: danger, violence, and an unspoken truth.

Marc should be jealous that his wife and alter are continuing to fraternize behind his back, or angry that Steven went against his wishes and welcomed her back into his life, but he’s not. Mostly, he’s nervous to face what he wasn’t strong enough to do, scared that he’ll continue to push it away until it swallows him whole. 

Then there’s you.

Your eyes are glassy and empty as you nod robotically as Steven rambles, lost in his own words. “...the most brilliant woman I’ve ever met.” Your hands attempt to retreat from his and Steven doesn’t notice, but he does. 

The audacity of Steven to talk about this stuff to your face astounds him. How can a man who shares his body be so clueless? So stupid to not see what’s right in front of him, offering herself for any ounce of attention he shows.

“I love her.” 

And there he sees your heart shatter. 

“That’s great, Steven. I’m so happy for you.”

—

All he can do is stare back, eyes taking in your swollen lips and wrinkled clothes. Your bodies breathe together, catching a breath as you process what just happened. There’s a voice in the back of his head urging him to pull you back in, to drink the ambrosia of your lips until you melt against him and beg for more, while he still has the chance. But he knows that if he were to move the spell would be broken.

And he was right.

When the stare breaks so does the moment. You clumsily slip off of his lap and sit back on your side of the couch. His hand hovers over your figure as you move away from him, a ghost of the touch he once had on you, desperate to stop you from leaving him. Fingers grip painfully into his palms as they curl into a fist of frustration and loss.

You both sit there for a second. It’s easier to think when your bodies are pressed against each other. When you aren’t tempted to lean in for one more kiss.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, he wasn’t supposed to get this far. 

Ever since meeting you, he’s tried his best to keep his distance, to watch you pine for Steven from afar as he harbored his own longing for you. Marc never believed he deserved it, you, always taking three steps back before he could touch a perfect thing. Before he could ruin what was already breaking. 

He’s supposed to be detached from real life, from anything outside of his work. He’s convinced himself that he was okay with letting you go, even promising Steven he would give him complete control of the body once he was done with Khonshu. But now he doesn’t think he can. He can’t leave you.

Marc finally builds the courage to look over at you. 

Your eyes are closed, not squeezed shut, just closed. The soft glow of the TV pools over your body. You could probably feel his eyes on you so you begin to talk. 

“I’m confused.”

“Confused.” He repeats with a soft nod, letting the word settle in his mind.

He doesn’t know what else to say. Of course, you’re confused, this whole night has been a series of bold actions and heated words. One second you’re having a pity party at your crush’s flat and the next you’re crawling on top of his alter. You still haven’t had time to really go through your emotions.

“You like me…” You finally look at him, brows furrowed as you navigate through your thoughts.

“I do.”

“And I like Steven…” He frowns at that but nods. You both know it, that’s how you ended up here in the first place. “..And Steven likes Layla, but you’re still…married?”

He sighs, “It’s been over for months, sweetheart.”

“Well, aren’t we a group of lovers?” You joke. 

Neither one of you laughs.

Deep brown eyes meet yours, “I meant what I said. Steven is blind if he can’t see what’s right in front of him.”

“I-I don’t know where to go from here.”

He places his hand on top of yours. And you let him. 

“Stay…” He didn’t mean to say it out loud, didn’t mean to say anything at all, but when he’s with you, he feels out of control. 

He sees the little furrow of your brows as you digest the implications of his suggestion. Stay and forget about the consequences. Stay and pretend it's just us. Stay and let me love you.  

“Marc –” 

He interrupts you before you can finish your thought. 

“For tonight.” He just isn’t sure he’d be able to take what you were about to say. If you could stay like this, even for one more night, just you and him and the memory of that embrace, he thinks, maybe he’ll be okay. Even if you leave him in the morning. Even if you run away from what could have been. “It’ll be easier to understand after a night of rest.” 

You stare solemnly at the edge of the couch, “Yeah.” For a moment he holds some hope that he’ll be able to hold you tonight and sleep like everything is right in the world. But then you gently slip your hand out from under his. “I should probably go though.” His palm burns. You push yourself off the couch in search of your discarded jacket and shoes.

“You can crash here,” He feels desperate. You’re slipping from his hands and he’s frantically grasping at the evading warmth. “It’s late and there’s more than enough space in this flat.” He wants to reach out again but he’s afraid you’ll reject his touch this time.

“Steven has work tomorrow morning.” You say sheepishly as you slip an arm into your jacket. Of course, you’d know Steven’s schedule. “He needs to wake up early…and it would be awkward to find me on the couch.” As if he’d let you sleep anywhere but in his arms.

“Ok, but I should walk you home.”

You tug at the bottom of your coat, flattening it onto your body. “It’s fine,” You look back at him, hovering by the door, “Really, I’m fine.” He doesn’t miss how you’ve switched from talking about the situation to yourself.

He murmurs your name, not knowing what he can say to make you stay.

“Marc.” You echo back, voice soft and – tired. “I guess I’ll see you later.” 

—

“Whot was that?”

Steven didn’t wake up for work the next day. In fact, he didn’t ‘wake up’ at all. Marc did. He woke up around 1 pm with a throbbing headache and a loud, berating British man yelling at him from the inside out. 

After you left, he sat there in silence and moped, hoping you’d stop in the middle of your commute home and realize you wanted to come back to him. You didn’t. Once he received the ‘got home safe.’ text from you, he decided to drink whatever was left in the fridge before passing out. He’s regretting it now.

“Steven, please.” He presses a hand over his forehead, trying to soothe the ache as he blearily stares at the mess of empty bottles from last night. “Not right now.”

“Not right now?! You snogged my best friend!”

“Oh, come on.” Marc tugs on a shirt before making his way to the bathroom. In the small cheap mirror, Steven stares right back at him, a disgruntled glare burning right into his skin, “You weren’t going to do it.” That makes him blush. 

“If–If I had known…”

Marc tries to ignore him, splashing some cool water on his face to wake himself up. How can Steven even complain about it when – “Wait – how did you even find out?”

“I saw her…” He says uneasily, “pulling away.”

Marc groans into the towel as he dries off, “You were there? How much did you see?” 

“It’s not like I planned for it! I’m not a perve or anything, I was just…pushed to the front all of a sudden!” Shit, he must’ve gotten too excited. “I tried to leave as soon as I got there.”

“For the record, I wasn’t planning on any of that happening either.” 

“Why would you do it then? You’re going to confuse her.”

“Confuse her? Steven,” He shakes his head, “She’s obviously in love with you and you still wave whatever weird relationship you have with my wife in her face.”

“Well, hold on a minute–”

“Go back to sleep, Steven.” Marc walks over to the couch, longingly staring at the spot he was in last night. “I gotta clean up.”

–

Your POV

Your hands nervously fiddle with your phone, opening, closing, and reopening your messaging app. You stare at the text you sent last night:

‘got home safe.’

You actually got home 15 minutes before sending the text, but he doesn’t need to know it took you that long to type out 3 words. It’s crazy, you tell yourself, how many texts you drafted, edited, and deleted before hitting send. What if he doesn’t want to hear from you again? What if Steven gets it instead of him? What if he thinks you’re being clingy just because you shared one kiss? One, blissful, enamoring, show-stopping, kiss?

He hasn’t answered it yet. 

Read 1:56 am

Which is fine. You’re fine. It’s only 3 pm and Steven is probably still at work, so he hasn’t had a chance to text you back. It’s fine.

You hate the way your heart skips a beat when a typing bubble comes up. Fuck, did he see your pathetic attempts to text him earlier? You quickly exit the app, not wanting to expose yourself if he sends the text and you immediately ‘read’ it. The phone vibrates abruptly in your hand as a banner drops from the top of your screen.

‘Hey 🤠! –’ Already from the emoji use you can tell it’s Steven, ‘–Wanna meet up for tea ~4:30? Let’s go t…’

You let out a sigh. You know you shouldn’t feel disappointed. Steven is your best friend and you love hanging out with him, but there’s this anticipating giddiness when you think about Marc. The feeling you used to have about Steven…

It’s crazy how one kiss can flip your life so completely. Not just that, but how fast you went from mourning the chance of one relationship to melting into the development of another.

You open up the conversation. You really should talk to him. 

‘okay 🫡 i’ll meet you there'

---

a/n: sorry this took so long (literal months). i had half of this written for a while and was so sure i'd get it done within a few weeks, but then I let it sit in my drive until I picked it up TODAY and finished it lmao.

so most of this chapter delves into marc's thoughts before and during what happened in the first part, some of steven's thoughts + the aftermath of the kiss. i know a lot of ppl wanted a confrontation between the reader and steven, but I didn't want to rush into it when we don't even know how marc really feels ab the reader :3

i thought it would be interesting if steven found out about the kiss through marc (and I also didn't know how to write out the reader admitting it to him) bc that's how marc found out ab steven breaking the readers heart. i also wanted to explore how the reader is grappling with her feelings towards the two guys!

i def want to write more, but I can't promise when the next part will be out. I'm a notoriously inconsistent and SLOW writer, so bare with me. thank you for all the support on my angsty journey and I hope you enjoyed this chapter <3

#marc spector x reader #marc spector #steven grant x reader #steven grant #moon knight #angst #steven grant x layla el faouly

[married-to-google-translater]

How would you think twisted cast react to reader in chemistry class after an explosion (due to the accident potion), There penguins coming out from the pots and now they're surrounded by penguins

This is for dorm leaders~ Rest comes later ☺️ I hope u enjoy this cute penguin ^

Vil don't like the situation at all. Penguins would be surprisingly aggressive. They would try to peck and tear his clothes. He wouldn't be scared, just really irritated. You would try to shake the penguins out of their bundle and wonder why they don't bother you. Maybe name the penguins after Neige.

Kalim Would be excited. Penguins don't thrive in the desert so he wouldn't have seen them before. But at the same time he has no instinct for self-preservation : D He thinks penguins are cute and would like to hug them. It doesn't matter, even if the penguins are clearly aggressive and hiss. It would really be best if you keep Kalim away from the penguins.

Riddle would not like this situation. Even if it's a bit funny but still unpleasant. It would not be likely that this accident was your fault. Riddle is far too precise for that. His height might be a problem with aggressive penguins. Although, maybe they startle his loud voice

Leona must have accidentally fallen asleep in class. And when you nudge him awake, he drops something into the cauldron that causes this. Leona would be a little irritated but wouldn't really care much about the situation. It's just a shame that now he has to clean up this mess and doesn't get to cuddle with you.

Idia wouldn't really have bothered to come to class. Instead, his flying tablet came. So he doesn't really get to hang out with the penguins. Although Idia finds the situation interesting. Ortho would also be excited about the situation.

Malleus would be intrested penguins. They would be interesting. It's just a shame that his aura is "creepy". Even the penguins don't want to get close. *sad dragon noises* Malleus would try to lure them with fish… But still they don't want to approach him. So Malleus is content to observe them.

Azul never would have seen a penguin. But he would know what penguins are… Penguins would be extra interested in Azul because he smells like fish. And the penguins are not happy when Azul has no fish. He will definitely have to run out of the farm if Jade and Floyd don't help him.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingsholar x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim #kalim al asim x reader #vil shoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines

[underground-hip-hop-affiliated]

#Con$piracy #Special Effects #Preserve Lure #Underground Hiphop

[demigods-posts]

How far does the prophecy from The Lightning Thief stretch across the Percy Jackson and The Olympians series? Spoilers Ahead!

"You shall go west and face the god who has turned."

1. In The Lightning Thief, Percy, alongside his friends Annabeth and Grover, travels from New York to Los Angeles to retrieve his mother, Sally, from the underworld and confront the god who stole Zeus's lightning bolt.

2. In The Lightning Thief, Percy, Annabeth, and Grover discover Ares is in alliance with a revolt to free Kronos. Percy fights Ares and successfully secures Zeus's lightning bolt.

"You shall find what was stolen and see it safely returned."

1. In The Lightning Thief, Percy returns Zeus's lightning bolt. Conversely, Hades, who kidnapped Sally, returns her home.

2. In The Sea of Monsters, Polyphemus the Cyclops is stated to have stolen the Golden Fleece to improve the nature of his Island and lure Satyrs to their death. Conversely, Luke Castellan and his crew are stated to try and steal the Golden Fleece to quicken Kronos's resurrection.

3. In The Titan's Curse, Atlas holds Annabeth and Artemis hostage, and Percy, alongside his quest partners Grover, Thalia, Bianca, and Zoe, travels west and rescues them.

"You shall be betrayed by one who calls you friend."

1. In The Lightning Thief, Luke lures Percy into the woods, reveals he stole the lightning bolt and that he's working with Kronos to bring about the downfall of Olympus. In doing so, Luke, Percy's former friend, tries to hurt him and, inadvertently, sets Percy's story in motion.

2. In The Battle of the Labyrinth, Percy, Annabeth, Nico, and Rachel discover that Luke allows Kronos to use his body as a vessel to bring about the downfall of Olympus.

"And you shall fail to save what matters most in the end."

1. In The Lightning Thief, Percy fails to retrieve his mother from the underworld. Thus, his initial motivation for going on the quest remains unfulfilled.

2. In The Lightning Thief, Percy cannot convince Luke that bringing about the rise of Kronos is not an efficient way to dismantle a neglectful system between the Gods and demigods. This conversation is the catalyst for the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series.

3. In The Last Olympian, Percy hands Luke the knife. Luke stabs himself in his Achilles Spot, stopping Kronos from rising, and preserving Olympus. It took the death of a hero fallen from grace to dismantle a neglectful system. From the beginning, Luke was destined to be beyond saving.

#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo text post #pjo headcanon #pjo prophecies #the lightning thief prophecy #tlt prophecy stretches farther than we initially thought #farther than *i* initially thought #i only just now realized this after outlining a ten-part fanfic series #this shit is crazy

[minxinq]

[ OC ] gaia

a demon adept in mimicry who escaped from hell and slaughtered a magical girl. she wears her skin and uses dark magic to preserve the image of her host in order to trick unsuspecting victims.

age: 70000

mimic form: 5’1

true form: 12’0 (including horns)

species: mimic demon

sexuality: aroace lesbian

in her mimic form, she uses a variety of weapons to dispose of innocents she doesn’t deem “worthy” to inhabit. her favourite is the chainsaw due to its messy tendencies. being stuck in hell for hundreds of centuries and only now escaping to the surface, she is fascinated with man-made weaponry, and finds it satisfying to kill humans with their own creations.

in her true form, she has sharp misshapen teeth, sunken eyes, long thin hair, sharp horns and claws. she is not made to be comprehended by humans, so to mortals, her body is a thin, constantly altering and pulsing mass of black vines. this is used to disorient victims.

gaia’s mimicry can be identified by the blurry/muddied, almost glassy eyes of her hosts. she has yet to find a way to disguise eyes properly. this detail is almost unnoticeable to mortals, however to other demons and hunters from hell like lynne, its very easy to spot.

as gaia is a runaway sinner, she is actively being hunted by lynne. however, despite lynne’s orders, she seems to have formed a strange bond with gaia. whether it is genuine or simply a form of deceit to lure in and dispose of the mimic is unknown.

#my art #artists on tumblr #digital art #wlw #lesbian #oc #ocs #original character #demon oc #mimic oc #mimicry #eldrich horror #body horror tw #tall manipulative murderous demon girl save me #sapphic #magical girl #magical girls #oc: gaia #magical girl oc #eldritch oc #horror #long post #can you tell shes like. my favourite #like girl why did you write so much!!!! damn!!!!! #this bitch loooooves eldritch abominations #oc: lynne #she’s mentioned so why not #they’re gay as hell btw

[fangsyouverymuch01]

Just friends

Summery: The hero of Baldur's Gate greatest battlefield is now drunkenly returning home from the tavern because your connection to the arcane world is dying, and it has been for months. Adding to it, is your unresolved feelings from a certain vampire you've sworn to forget.

Rolan and Lia, aiding you in your search for answers, are determined to divert your mind from troubles. Unbeknownst to you, this night is destined to change everything.

Pairing: Astarion x f!tav, Astarion x f!reader , Rolan x reader

Warnings: Fightning, sort of depressed reader, drinking, Astarion being a prick

Tags: Slow burn, friends to lovers

Note: This took way too long to write, and tbh I'm scared to publish it. Had a hard time coming up with a plot that would make sense (and yes this is the underdark/menzoberranzan fic)

Nevertheless, hope you enjoy and stick around for more parts in the future.

In front of you is an array of literature varying from books, scrolls and notes. Just like yesterday and the day before that. Picking up yet another scroll and unrolling it, the words painted on it turns into a blur. Arcane symbols dance before your eyes but the contents of the page escapes your fleeting mind and it drifts to past memories of Moonrise Towers. 

“...And all I had to do was not fall for you… Which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart,” he pauses, searching for the right words to continue. “You’re incredible. You deserve something real. I want us to be something real.”

Stunned by his confession, your own voice momentarily failed you. The Elf spoke again, revealing a truth that cut through your heart like a blade.“Being close to someone - any kind of intimacy - was something I performed to lure people back for him.”

Astarion further explains his train of thought, you could see his mouth moving but not a word reached your ears. Sadness, confusion, happiness and anger; the emotions mixed and collided within you. Was your relationship built on lies? Had you somehow forced him to sleep with you? It was all so much.

“I don't know how else to be with someone, No matter how much I’d like to.” 

You’d decided to remain just friends, and it had felt like the right choice. Liberating even, seeing Asterion grow into a person no longer controlled by fear. But now, you wallowed in selfishness due to your aching heart. Now it is the thing that keeps you from focusing on the task ahead. Now it is the thing keeping your from nights embrace, your body twisting and turning when the moon shone through the curtains. Now it is the numb feeling whilst faceless men sing your name between your legs. The decision, made with the intention of preserving your friendship, now felt as liberating as a chain strung to your neck. 

Moreover, you haven't seen him in weeks -  or could it be months? The passage of time blurs and certainly eludes you. Yet, effortlessly, his image flits into your head - bouncy white curls, piercing crimson eyes, a sharp nose and that godsdamn smirk. Interchangeable in your memory - forever young - he remains a vivid specter that refuses to fade.

Breaking your train of thought, there is a tap on your shoulder, a figure crouching over you to peer at the discoveries revealed in the scroll. 

“Found anything of interest?” Rolan spoke, eyeing you from above. 

“Ehm no, just lost in thought.” you replied, attempting to shake off the lingering memories that had clouded your focus. 

“Well, neither have I.” he puffed out a breath of air, “My best bet is to return to the House of Grief for more answers so I could study the mirror you spoke off.”

“I’m not sure they’d warmly welcome me back after my latest visit.” you let out a strained chuckle, struck by a memory of  Viconas lifeless person as Shadowhearts struck the merciless final blow to her chest. 

Since your time in the House of Grief, your bond with magic has slowly dwindled. The once-familiar currents of arcane energy now seemed distant. Magic had been an extension of you, and its absence felt akin to a cruel mutilation and you were desperate to feel magic coursing through your veins once more. Your desperation had led you here - Sorcerous Sundries, for any clue or hope that you might become whole again.

"Anyhow, have you heard from Gale yet?" you inquired, seeking a distraction from your thoughts.

"He deemed Waterdeep fruitless in our search and should be arranging plans to continue in Neverwinter as we speak," Rolan replied, his eyes pacing the floorboards beneath him. "Maybe we should pause our search for today; the sun is setting, and you, my friend, are in desperate need of a drink." His suggestion hung in the air, a respite offered amidst your futile search for answers. 

You had no energy to protest, you truly wanted to go, you really did. But what you needed was to dive into the mountains of untouched texts sprawled in a ring in front of you. 

Lazily tracing the arcane figures, partly lost in deliberation you answer “Thank you for the offer but I shouldn’t, you go and I’ll stay here.”

"Come on, just one drink. It won't solve all our problems, but it might provide a momentary escape," he insisted, recognizing the heaviness in your gaze. "We can resume our search tomorrow with clearer minds. Trust me, it's what you need right now."

A defeated sign escapes your lips “Fine, one drink but no more than that”. 

Laying a victorious touch on your arm, the tiefling grinned, "That's the spirit!" Helping you up, he proceeded, "The Elf Song in an hour; I need to run something by Lia first." With determined steps, he led you away from your search for answers in the pile of books. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The warm light emanating from the Elfsongs' painted windows cast a glow over your figure as you linger outside the bustling door. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses weave together, that should beckon you inside but it doesn't. Nothing seems to pique your interest these days. The hero of Baldurs Gate was but a mere shell of what bards sang about and the thought of being recognized, of eyes filled with anticipation that lingers for extraordinary tales to be told - you can't stand it. 

Adding to your dread, are the invasive questions about your companions - about Astarion. Head spinning and lips slowly drooping to frown, you instinctively recoil from the entrance. 

With a heavy sigh, you reach into your bag, fingers wrapping around a familiar flask. The cool metal brings a small comfort, and in contrast your throat burns as you gulp down liquid courage. 

Stealing yourself against the prying questions and the weight of everyone's expectations, you push open the tavern door, stepping into the warm embrace of the tavern, where Rolan and Lia await, immersed in their own stories. You offer them a weak smile as you approach the booth. 

“There you are, I almost thought you wouldn’t show but I’m glad to be proven wrong.”

“Come, sit!” Lia urges, patting the cushion beside her. As you settle into the booth, you can't help but notice the curious eyes around you.

Gods no.

Instinctively, your finger twirls and you mutter a spell to cast disguise self, only to be reminded of your uselessness. A tinge of frustration tightens your jaw, quickly masked by a forced smile. You divert your gaze, hoping to shield yourself from the unwanted attention. 

“What’s your poison for today?” Lia asks, a mischievous smile spreading from cheek to cheek. Her breath smells of alcohol; Lia and Rolan had clearly begun drinking ahead of you. Not that you could judge them, having indulged in your trusted flask outside the tavern minutes ago. 

“I’ll have what you’ve had.”

“Coming right up!” Lia responds, her enthusiasm undeterred. She signals the bartender, and soon enough, a trio of drinks arrives at the table. 

Rolan is the first to grip the glass and then clear his throat, “To us,  and Gale - and hope that tomorrow will give us more answers.” 

One drink turns into four drinks, and at some point, you lose track of both time and the units you’ve allowed to warm your gullet. Honestly it’s quite funny, why did you worry so much before? Silly you with silly thoughts! Almost as silly as Rolan’s eyes focused on your neck. He looks funny with his eyebrows furrowed, and a chuckle escapes your lips at the sight.

“You’ll get wrinkles if you keep staring at my neck like that, Rolan.”

“I did no such thing!” he retorts as a flush creeps up on the tiefling's cheeks.

Lia heartily laughs, swaying a bit, and offers her hand to you. “Join me for a dance, will you?” The music in the tavern entices you and despite the blurred lines of inebriation, you take Lia’s hand and step into the lively dance floor.

Lia practically dragged you through the crowded tavern, Rolan following closely behind to his best abilities. The dance floor was filled with twirling bodies, in rhythm with the bard's melodies. Pulling your arm up, Lia spins and chuckles as you reach the bards scene. Rolan, with a playful twinkle in his eyes, reaches the two of you and joins the dance. The world seems to sway with the music and for the first time in a long time, a genuine smile spreads across your face. 

As you moved to the music, you sensed Rolans’ proximity. His hand found its way to the small of your back, guiding you through the intricate steps of the dance. The unfamiliar warmth of his hand against your skin was a stark contrast to the memories of Asterion's cool touch.The bard's music kept on playing, the tunes bouncing off the plucked strings, the odor of alcohol on his breath, and hot uncontrolled bodies clashing against your person -  Gods, its too much. You can't stay a minute longer or you might suffocate. 

“I need some air,” you mumble and offer an apologizing smile, excusing yourself as the dance continues without you. 

“Wait!” a muffled voice calls out, but you pretend that you’re too far off to hear. 

Faces blurred into a sea of strangers, and the lively chatter became an indistinguishable hum. Your breath quickened, and you couldn't shake the feeling of faceless men and women judging your every step. Because now they know - they know that you were no hero of Baldur's gate, just another drunk who couldn’t even cast a simple spell to disguise herself from embarrassment. 

Pathetic. 

As you stepped out into the cool night air, the contrast between the warmth of the dance floor and the refreshing chill outside sent shivers down your spine. Crouching down you plant your hands to your knees, trying to catch your breath and ease your mind. 

A moment later, the tavern door swung open abruptly, an curly haired man emerging as he wrestled with another almost feral one. The creature thrashed and snarled at the curly haired man as he strained against the frenzied movements. Caught off guard, you stood up in the shadow beside the entrance, your breath hitching again as you observed the scene unfold. 

Seizing the opportunity to make sense of the situation, you assertively approached the struggling men, dagger clutched and ready strike if needed. The curly-haired man's eyes flickered toward you and your gaze met his.

Deep crimson eyes, ivory curls, and are those fangs?

No, that can't be.

"Astarion?" you uttered, your voice a hushed whisper that sliced through the night, your eyes fixed on the elf's face in utter disbelief. There he was, right before you.

Astarion's attention shifted to the rabid man, deftly maneuvering to subdue him. He restrained the creature, halting any further erratic movements. With precision, Astarion extracted a flask from his belt, causing the man's struggles to intensify. Despite the increased resistance, Astarion's actions remained calculated and exact.

With the man momentarily contained, Astarion secured him in place with one hand, the other retrieving a flask. He raised it to his mouth, a subtle glint of fangs emerging as he skillfully removed the lid with his teeth.

"Hello," the rogue spoke, pausing to inject the man with the unfamiliar substance. The feral struggles ceased, and Astarion continued, his tone now imbued with a nuanced warmth, "darling."

Stunned you remain constrained where you stood. This is real, Astarion is here after days, weeks and months of him plaguing your thoughts every waking moment. Your mind races, trying to process the surreal present. A rumble in your stomach seems to pull you out of your trance, nausea spreading in your throat. 

Keep. it. down. 

“Care to help or do you intend to stand there and just gawk?”

Once more the door beside you swung open, a tall figure emerges with swaying strands of long hair catching in the wind, intent on reaching the paralyzed man and Astarion. 

“We said no killing, remember?" he spoke.

"Oh, my apologies, brother. I must have forgotten our little agreement when I was wrestling the feral dog whilst you were nowhere to be seen.”

At that moment, you recognized the man - Leon. His expression remained stoic, though a flicker of irritation crossed his features. "Your theatrics aren't amusing, Astarion. We need to keep them alive; this is not the time nor place for you to display your unique methods."

You finally had a surge to act, fumbled in your bag and searched for any potion or scroll that could help. A glass vial of what seemed to be a healing potion met your fingers, and you pulled it out, unscrewing the cap with shaky hands. 

“Here take this,” you called out, holding the potion aloft, offering a forced smile amidst the charged atmosphere. 

As you step forward to give Leon the vial, Rolan stumbles out the tavern door, tipsy and eyes searching for something in the night. You’d completely forgotten about Rolan and Lia, they’d probably been worried since you hadn’t returned. His eyes widened at the chaotic scene before him, and he instinctively moved to stand in front of you, a protective gesture. His hand flickered with a small flame, ready to defend against any potential threat. 

"What in the hells is happening here?" Rolan demanded, a mix of concern and bewilderment in his voice.

Before anyone could respond, Astarion let out a small laugh, one that you couldn't seem to decipher the meaning of. What was so funny? Rolan certainly wasn't amused, and the flame rose higher from his palm at the elf's dismissive laugh. Leon's gaze moved to Rolan, his hands raising in a gesture of peace, showing that they were no threat to him or you.

“Got yourself a knight in shining armor, have you now?” Astarion remarked, a sly grin playing on his lips.

Knight in shining armor? The words stung, and a spark of anger flared within you. Rolan didn't need to save you nor did you want him to. Opening your mouth to retort, Leon interjected, his voice firm and commanding.

“Astarion, don’t,” Leon snapped at him, a stern edge to his voice. He then looked directly at you, his expression softening. “We don’t want to fight you. Let's find a quieter spot to talk, and we’ll explain everything.”

You nodded, the tension in the air making it clear that this was not the time for confrontation. Rolan, still wary but trusting your judgment, lowered the flame in his palm. With cautious glances exchanged between the group, you began to move away from the chaotic scene, guided by Leon's lead to a more secluded spot where answers awaited. 

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion x y/n #astarion x you #baldurs gate tav #astarion imagine #astarion romance #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x drow #baldur's gate astarion #baldurs gate #baldur's gate 3 #rolan x tav #rolan bg3 #rolan #rolan x reader #menzoberranzan #bdg3 #underdark #dnd #astarion x female tav

[ghoularaki]

baby's breath | 9

↠  summary: Merely by coincidence, Erwin, your father's former friend had crossed paths with you again after nearly a decade. He offered solace once finding out you were struggling with not just school, but your home life as well. His home he shared with another one of your father's friends, Levi, became a sanctuary. Though, the more you came over for study sessions, the more they wiggled themselves into your private life. And like baby's breath, they weeded themselves in so deep you couldn't uproot them.

↠ word count: 3,057

↠ pairing: levi ackerman x reader x erwin smith

↠ genre/warnings: angst, smut, modern au, DARK CONTENT, yandere, daddy kink, forced infantilism, pet play, age gap, collars, slight shock torture

The neighbor’s must never be home. This you had deduced as you were sat outside soaking up the late July Sun. In the couple weeks following after Levi had spanked you over the tub, you had become docile. Well, as docile as you can be.

Out of self-preservation, you dialed down your abundant want to be anywhere but this damn house. Also Levi had kept the gag on even after your punishment was over and your jaw started to feel like it would fall off. So you listened.

It took two days before Levi trusted you enough to take the gag off besides when to eat and to brush your teeth. Trust would be a stretch since you both knew Levi didn’t believe an ounce of your obedient act. You weren’t necessarily trying to fool him or Erwin, you just needed time to recuperate.

If the shorter man of the two kept running you ragged you would never have enough energy to escape. Mustering up all your willpower, you bit your tongue and allowed them to treat you as lesser than. The routines were kept up.

Erwin would pick out your clothes in the morning as he took you out of the crate and kissed your forehead as a goodbye. An underlying threat in his sweet gesture when he told you to be good. Every single time he turned around you resisted the urge to throw the stupid pink, frilly clothes at his big head.

As if he sensed it every time, Levi would walk into the room and take the clothes. There he would lead you into the bathroom and help you—more so forcibly—get ready for the day. Nothing you did you were allowed to do on your own. The only luxury Levi offered was letting you eat without assistance. Other than that, he’s on you like a hawk.

They weren’t awful enough to only let you wear skirts or dresses, but the shorts bestowed upon you were still covered in lace and frills. You could only count your blessings, no matter how miniscule.

So there, you sat on the living room floor in a babydoll style shirt and short bloomers. Despite the hot weather, a shiver ran through your body. Today, Erwin had been home as it’s the weekend. On Sundays were the only days he allowed himself a break from work. So to your surprise, despite it being Saturday, he didn’t leave for his home office.

Mid-morning sunlight streamed in from the open curtains. After begrudgingly letting Erwin feed you, he guided you to the living room. Instead of leading you to the couch, he had you sit on the floor by his feet. Leaning on his knees, his form encased yours. Those deep sapphires bore into you.

“You have been so good lately,” The words were a statement, but his tone seemed questioning. “Good behavior must be rewarded, right, Levi?”

Erwin looked over your head to Levi who made his way to stand behind you. You were completely caged in. You did not like what those words meant.

“What do you mean?”

The huge man gave you a smile filled with mirth and something darker. He’s scheming. Two can play at that game.

“If you could have anything you want, what would it be?”

His words were a honey trap meant to lure you in with a sweet promise. The sticky nectar would only entangle you further if you weren’t careful or dared to move too far. You bit your lip in thought. Whatever you say had to be done precisely.

Not leaving his gaze, you meekly asked, “Anything?” He liked you small.

Teeth all on display, he grinned with chilling warmth, “Anything.”

Glancing to the Sun blaring through the window, you turned back to him, “I want to go outside.”

His face fell slightly before the skin jumped back up to mask his obvious discontent, but you continued. “Under your terms.”

Throughout this exchange, you dared not look at Levi. All confidence you had would vanish in an instant. He wore you down in all the worst ways. Your plan would shatter and disintegrate.

You longed to feel the Sun on you. This house grew boring quickly and each day you spent here, the more claustrophobic you felt. Desperation would be an understatement. Day in and day out were your rights as a human violated, treated as a pet or a toy or a child.

Those miniscule pings of trust they had in you, you were going to sap dry and leave this place. Whether it be in a ditch, body long since cold, or back in the warmth this merciless world offered.

“Our terms?” Erwin probed.

“I don’t even have to leave the front steps and I wouldn’t be alone either. All I ask is to go outside, just for a bit. Please?”

Both men are silent.

You vehemently refused to break eye contact with Erwin. At this point you are graveling, on your hands and knees to get your point across. You set up the board, and it is now their turn to move the pieces unknowingly in your favor.

Erwin did not speak more as he got up, knees cracking. You could only pathetically watch as he disregarded your proposition.

Levi still standing, never letting his focus on you waver. Finally, you rotate to him. His face didn’t portray anything. You were only left more confused than before. He said anything and you made sure to ask for something within reason. Should you have been more patient?

“Get off the floor, it’s dirty,” Levi broke you from your spiraling.

He did not offer a hand, but stayed close. Obeying, you got up and brushed the imaginary dust from your knees. You looked over to where Erwin retired to his office. You could only hope this didn’t set you back to square one.

The next day Erwin had returned to you, a little more chipper than you would like. He had his hand behind his back obviously hiding something from you. Breakfast spread across the table, Levi had gotten you up this morning instead of Erwin. The break in routine already had you on edge.

You had barely begun to eat when Erwin’s lumbering form emerged from the doorway and crossed over to you. Your eyes followed him as he came closer. He knelt before you, a hand grabbing one of your knees so your legs began the swivel of your body being turned towards him. Shoulder leaning against the back of the chair, you stared down at him in question.

“I gave it some thought about your request,” He paused to analyze every and any indication to what you were thinking, “It has been a while since you’ve been outside.”

His words were too good to be true. There was a catch. There was always a catch.

That same grin crept back onto his handsome face. From behind him, he pulled out a collar. The type you would put onto a dog. You stared at the pink, webbed nylon sat in his palm. The material was thick along with the width of the collar—it would easily encompass most of your neck. It seemed almost too bulky, but you didn’t question it. The front buckle had a lock on it. Its cutesy, heart shape mocked you.

“I also have a proposition to make. You can go outside and accompany Levi as he does yardwork, but you must be collared.” Erwin chuckled at your twitching lip. He knew you did not want that thing around your neck. “… Or you can stay inside.”

The with me stayed silent, but heavily implicated.

Your hands laid in your lap, right where his almost brushed against yours. You pondered what to do. Erwin knew you wanted so bad to go outside, but the thought of being collared like a dog disgusted you. Though this isn’t what held you back. It's you sneakily being tested to which man you would prefer. Of course, it would be neither, but Erwin’s a man of mind games.

Not caring how much this would offend the man before you, you muttered from your place above him, “Outside.”

At that, he stood to his full height, establishing the power once more. Your head followed his motion. Gently, he moved your hair from your neck and brought the thick collar around your neck. You flinched from the cold metal biting your skin. His deft fingers threaded the nylon together until the collar sat firm on your throat but not enough to constrict your breathing.

Stubbornly, you stared at his stomach and not up. Two of his fingers went under the collar and tugged on it. Glancing up instinctively, Erwin nodded to himself in satisfaction and then stepped back.

From behind you, Levi cleared his throat. You jumped as he grabbed his plate and set it into the sink.

“Come. Put your shit away and follow. We are wasting daylight.”

Eager to get out of this stuffy house, you rinsed off your plate, the rushing water sharp in your ears. Cutting it off, you stepped in tow with Levi. In his hands were a leash, a contrasting black leather to the pink entangling your throat.

As Levi stepped into his work boots, you stared at your socked feet. You didn’t have any shoes.

You expressed this to the man crouched down, tying his laces together.

“You don’t need them.”

“But then my socks will get dirty,” You argued.

His eyes sharpened into a scowl. Muttering under his breath, he opened the closet keeping the coats and bent down. He emerged with a pair of old slippers, and tossed them at your feet.

“There, spoiled brat.”

You opened your mouth to counter that you didn’t care about dirt, but you knew he would kick up a fuss like the grouchy old man he was, though decided to clack your teeth together. Getting the last word wasn’t worth whatever he dished out.

So you slipped your feet into the flimsy shoes and waited for Levi to finish unlocking the door. He swung the door open. Sun kissed your dull skin. You closed your eyes and took in the humid air from the summer light. A stray, white butterfly fluttered by you. You smiled. Somewhere someone had been thinking of you—or at least that’s how the superstition went.

Shuffling off the porch, you didn’t wonder too far from Levi. He didn’t give an instruction you were allowed to free roam and the leash clutched in his finger didn’t give any indication he wanted to. Across the plush, green grass, he brought you back to where he had drowned you with the hose.

The pavement suffocated both you and the grass begging to creep from under its oppressive weight. Your skin crawled as cold flooded your veins. Soon your blood ran a clear, icy water. The thin liquid filled you to the brim until you tilted your chin up to avoid the impending flood.

Levi snapped his fingers. “Hey, Hey! Brat, wake the fuck up.”

Shaking out the water from your ears, you stared blankly at the man. “Huh?”

He jabbed a finger into your forehead, “Are you listening?”

Your confused expression must have given away you indeed hadn’t been listening. He sighed, and stepped further into your space. Hooking the latch on the leash into the ring on the collar, he gave it a small tug. You stumbled closer, a hand gripping his sturdy forearm for balance.

“Sit.”

Shoving you down, your knees landed on the soft ground. To the side of you was a hook emerging from the grass. Stuck into the dirt sat a stake perfect for your leash to be threaded through.

Levi crouched right next to the hoop and tied the leash tight so there was no way for you to tug it free. You observed intently about how good Levi’s at tying knots. It made you shutter.

Still close to you, he pulled his fingers through the collar as Erwin did, but with more force. He tugged you to him so you collapsed on your hands.

“Don’t ruin this for yourself.”

You said nothing. Those steely irises pierced into your psyche. It scared you shitless how easily he read you. Stupidly you would forget how intelligent this man was.

Releasing the collar, he pushed you from him and walked over to the basement door. With ease he hauled the left door open. Your shoulders hunched at the screeching metal. From over the door, he gave another threat.

“I will be out faster than your shit brains can think of an idiotic plan. Stay. Put.”

God, did he grate your nerves. Maybe you could find a rock to chuck at his head, then he’ll see how fast he can give snarky remarks. But with how he is, he would simply catch it and then bash your brains out of your skull.

Despite his warnings, you scanned the area for what you desired. Levi’s soft foot-falls dimmed with each step he took further into the basement. Scrambling, you tugged at the stake to no avail. Instantly giving up, you glanced around for anything else. You looked up at the window to see if Erwin’s watching. The coast’s clear.

Crawling to the loop, you desperately clawed at the leash to unravel it. Growing more frustrated in your time crunch, you unhook the leash and more easily untie it from the stake. Just in time you are able to free the leash.

Clambering over to the basement door, you don’t even peer over it to make sure you don’t hit Levi, you push it down. It slammed shut with an audible rattle. Levi’s shout is muffled.

Working quickly, you sat on both doors while you looped it over and over the leash through the handle. Tripling knotting it, you ignore Levi pounding against the metal. His pushes lift you off the door for a mere moment, but it’s enough.

Trusting the knots were secure, you scampered off the doors and ran full force into the woods. The leash would only stop Levi for so long as he would surely give up and go through the other doors. All you needed was to get to the neighbors who couldn’t be more than a mile away considering you could see their house lights.

Five minutes. Five minutes was all you needed to escape this hellhole.

Erwin must have seen you too at this point, but you weren’t too worried about him. He would never do the dirty work himself.

The treeline just broke when searing pain coursed through you. Crumpling to the ground with a piercing screech, you clawed at your throat. Your fingers scrambled to get the collar on your throat off you as it sent more electric shocks through your body. You could barely take in the trees surrounding you. Writhing in the dirt and broken twigs, you cried and pleaded for anyone, anything to stop the pain.

Your legs pathetically kicked out as your eyes rolled in the back of your head. As the oxygen rapidly left your lungs—choking on your own foaming spit—you gasped when it returned. You couldn’t even turn over to breathe in properly. Only twitch and cough on your own saliva.

Your flickering lids peer upwards to Levi standing over, visibly annoyed. A remote sat in his shaking fist. His shoulders heaved from both anger and exertion. Glancing at the basement doors still tied up, he must have run through the whole house just to get to you.

He dug his heel in your stomach, “Didn’t I say to stay put.”

You couldn’t even rebuttal or try to get him off you. All you could do was accept his cruel treatment, how his foot went upwards to crush your rib cage.

Relief filled you as he took off his foot, but it’s short-lived. Leaning down, he grabbed the back of the collar and lugged you through the dirt. Coughing, you frantically gripped behind to offer some sort of reprieve. The collar dug into your larynx and the raw skin.

Weakly your heels scraped against the ground to stop him from hauling you to wherever you were going. Along the way, you lose one of the slippers. Crossing the yard, you gagged at him shoving you further up. Your nails tilled the grass beneath you. You grunted as you went up the step on the porch. Bruises would definitely litter your back after today.

Kicking open the door, Levi dragged you through the mud room and into the living room to where Erwin sat patiently. The shorter man dumped you at his feet.

Growling, he pointed at you, “You deal with her or else I’m going to slaughter your little princess.”

Stomping back out the house, he slammed the door so loud the house shuttered. Erwin paid him no mind as he stared down at your gasping form. You wanted this damn collar off, off, off.

He gripped the hand that tugged at the lock, he tutted, “Uh uh, bad girl.”

With your hand still clutched in his palm, he pulled you up to sit in his lap. Sagging further into the recliner, he hugged you close to his chest. Too strained to resist, you let yourself be cradled. Ever so doting, Erwin slipped the slipper still attached to your foot off and dropped it somewhere on the floor.

The heavy hand on your hip stroked up and down. He kept his hand over the clothes, his touch never straying.

Your body knew the danger you were in, but your brain had been fried, scrambled to bits. Tense in understanding, you couldn’t completely fall into his embrace. Your tendons awaited the next shock. You don’t think you could ever be able to relax again until the collar came off.

Your breath brushed against the skin of Erwin’s exposed collarbone. “Am I- am I in trouble?”

“I think you learned your lesson already…” His words hung in the air.

“But?”

“Sleep. You need the rest.”

Tears softly spilled, staining his shirt. He may think you were disciplined enough, but did Levi?

Erwin smiled when you curled further into his embrace. Just for a moment, naively believing the words he was a passive bystander of your punishment, and not the executioner.

#yandere x reader #levi x reader #yandere levi x reader #yandere erwin x reader #erwin x reader #yandere #yandere levi #yandere erwin #yandere aot #aot smut #yandere smut #yandere x you

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Heya! If you are doing requests then may I request Nagito x Junko's little sister reader? I think it'd be fun!

This sounds a lot like a series I started last month so I'll just continue with the same story line 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Third Enoshima | Yandere Nagito Komaeda

“What an honor! To be in the presence of such overwhelming hope!’

Before the killing game, you float around between the classes 

Considering most if not all of your education was condensed into a single-person course

Somehow organized by your guardians

One of the many students you got to know was Nagito

The wide-eyed oddly degrading friend who seemed to put everyone on a pedestal

Especially you

His behavior reminds you far too often of your sisters 

Only his obsession doesn’t even pretend to be platonic

“Oh my ultimate hope! Would you like to join me for lunch today? I happen to be graced with the perfect table for us to sit at!”

“This…just looks like a candle lit dinner.”

“My luck is is as unpredictable as ever.”

And always for his benefit

You don’t mind since your used to obsessive people your sisters

You do not condone the way he treats the honor students

Often scolding you when he interrupts you trying to hang out with them

“Not cool Nagito! You can’t just say that to people!”

“Forgive me for being so forward but would you put a deity on the level of maggots?”

When he’s finally effected by despair

It doesn’t get much better

On the command of Kamakura and Junko’s final message he’s one of your most adamant pursuers

“Oh (Y/n) the Seed of Despair! The silent flame of the fire that will bring despair to all! I will do right by Junko’s name and make sure you breed the Despair you were born to!”

It’s likely Munakata and the Hope Foundation uses you as bait to lure him

And he’s absolutely insane 

Losing his composure at the mere sight of you

Drooling

Scratching at the glass and metal crate

Smooching his face against the class

Humping the glass

Granted it’s just a hologram because according to Munakata–”Filth doesn’t deserve to be anywhere near diamonds even if for the fate of the world.”

After his treatment though, it’s believed that you because you’re now closely affiliated with the Hope Foundation will never see or hear from him again

You quickly proved wrong when a secret message and video file pops up on your private tablet

“I’m wishing you the best with your new life, (Y/n). I know those days we used to know each other are long since past and you are happily settled with the Future foundation. But as I’m learning to value myself more I’m also paying heed to what I want and what my friends want–”

You immediately try to record 

Pressing frantically as the button doesn’t seem to work

You go for your phone

“Don’t try to record this. It won’t actually compute the image on your screen. That being said I mean no harm, when I say we think you belong with us. We know how much pain we’ve brought the world. But I see no problem with preserving hope and if the Foundation can’t keep us away then they clearly aren’t the best fit for the job."

You get up, planning to run directly to Munakata

Only to find your tablet begin to overheat as the video message fizzles out

“My hope! My (Y/n)! We’ll be reunited soon. I can only count the minutes before we can spend our days together! Forever!”

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere harem #yandere danganronpa #yandere danganronpa x reader #yandere mukuro ikusaba #yandere junko x reader #yandere junko enoshima #yandere nagito komaeda #yandere nagito #yandere nagito komaeda x reader #yandere munakata kyosuke #yanderes x reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere x gn reader