#I also hate schmoozing

[shea-like-the-butter]

Thursday, March 23rd 2023

Stuck on a little hot mess

[gooseplumes]

keep hearing from attendees that our wedding was "so refreshing" and "one of the best they've ever been to." it was just dinner and drinks in a private room at a restaurant in the rockies. open air to a balcony. lots of shots. music my husband curated (i helped). like SO low key. didn't even really have speeches. didn't have a cake! and people were especially not invited to the vows. that was for Us and the commissioner and the 2 legally mandated witnesses we had to have there.

so hearing how much everyone loved it is sooo funny like ok you all actually hate ceremonies huh. you're sick of all the tradition. you just want to get drunk in a room together

[gregoftom]

greg laughing the loudest at matsson’s shitty sh*vorce joke right in front of sh*v makes him braver than any us marine

[musings-of-a-rose]

Not Without You

Pairing: Lucien De Leon x f!reader (nickname: Poppy)

Word Count: 2800+ 

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Listen. I saw that clip of him making out in The Uninvited. That's it. That's the explanation. This is not betad. This one is for the sluts.

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Lucien Masterlist

--------

I get out of my car, staring up at the ridiculous mansion in front of me. The sound of the ocean, just out of sight behind the giant home, is soft and gentle in my ears, calming me. Giving me a little mental boost before I sigh, smoothing down my dress. I make my way to the front door, weaving between a few cars that were parked out front. Expensive cars.

It's not that I'm jealous of my childhood friend. Emilia deserves to be happy and she's happy that she married money. Some fancy producer out here in LA that fell for her big eyes and bright smile the second he saw her.

But that doesn't mean I wanted to come to one of her dinner parties, having to schmooze and pretend to be interested in what everyone has to say. I've been here before, met the people, fucked the party boy actor that eventually broke me, and yet here I am, unable to say no to Emilia.

I raise my hand to knock, dreading what the evening will bring but the door flies open before my knuckles touch anything. Emilia stands before me, a few rollers still in her hair, stress all over her body.

"Poppy, you're early! Thank GOD!" She pulls me inside and hugs me, the door closing heavy behind me.

"I always come early because you need me," I smile as she chuckles, lightly punching my arm. "What can I do to help?"

"You're angel, I swear! Can you make sure the table settings are right? There's extra silverware in the-"

"I know, Emilia. Everything like normal?" I'd been to so many of her parties, I know exactly what the set up is.

She nods, her smile growing wider. "Keep it simple and classy. You know me!"

I nod. "So what kind of party is this one? Another schmooze for Mr.?"

She waves her hand. "Yeah something like that. He's meeting with a bunch of actors for some upcoming project. He's hand selected them."

"Cool."

Emilia thanks me again before running off to finish getting ready. I pause for a moment, looking around trying to remember where the dining room is. I head down the hall and into what I think is the dining room. It turns out I remembered correctly, my eyes roaming over the table and making small adjustments to the settings already there. I end up pulling out more silverware, fixing them to Emilia's standards. I hate that I know this stuff, but I've saved her ass more times than I can count at these things so it helps to know what to expect.

As I work, my mind goes back to all the parties past. The ones she brought me to when she first started dating the producer several years ago. She had been so nervous, as if the producer wasn't already head over heels for her. That's where I met-

No. Not going down that road again. I can't do that to myself.

I shake my head and finish the settings, adding some minor touches to the decorations and finally lighting the candles. A knock at the door brings me out of my head and I walk over to answer it. An older gentleman stands there, putting out a cigarette with his shoe. He introduces himself as the director. What an ego.

Several people arrive after him, a mix of actors and a screenwriter. They all mingle in the sitting room for a few minutes before Emilia and the producer make their way in, everyone doing introductions.

The producer claps his hands together, looking around. "We're still missing one, but I doubt he'd mind us getting started. Who's hungry?"

Everyone gives their approval but as they move towards the dining room, a knock raps on the front door.

"That should be him. Guess I tried to start too soon!" Polite laughter at the producer as Emilia moves to answer the door, a quick glance in my direction before she disappears down the hall. The producer is telling some little story about a prior movie he was involved in, one I've heard a zillion times. But his story is short and he motions behind me.

"Just in time! We were about to eat. Welcome, Lucien."

My back stiffens. The room starts to spin my chest heaving. He didn't say Lucien. Did he? Maybe it was another Lucien. It couldn't be my Lucien? No. He's not my Lucien. He made that very clear when he wanted to continue partying and I wanted to settle down.

"Perfect! I'm starving."

Fuck. There was no mistaking that voice, the one that sets my skin ablaze, makes warmth pool between my thighs, the one that told me he needed to focus on his career and couldn't be with me. Not in the way I wanted him.

A small hand on my elbow squeezes me and I know it's Emilia, gently guiding me towards the dining room.

"I'm sorry, Poppy. He invited him and I didn't make the connection until the last minute."

"You couldn't have given me a heads up?" I yank my arm from her grip and swallow hard. I can't let him see how he makes me feel. He doesn't deserve that. I turn, letting the others file past me until he stops in front of me.

"Poppy. I..I didn't know you'd be here."

I'm determined to show him how much better off I am, that he means nothing to me now. I look up into his eyes and all of my resolve goes completely out the window. Were his eyes always that big? That round? So soft? I want to yank him to me by the thin chain around his neck, press my lips to his and never let go.

Way to show him, Poppy.

"I didn't know you'd be here either."

A silence stretches between us, a heavy, loaded silence. His eyes soften the longer he looks at me and is that regret I see? No. I'm projecting. But then he offers me his arm, taking me completely by surprise.

"We can be adults. Shall we?"

Don't do it. Don't take his arm, Poppy. Don't do it, don't do it, don't-

My fingers close on his offered up arm. "I'm sure this is a great opportunity for you."

Fuck, he's still warm. His skin smooth where my fingers touch him. Way to go, Poppy.

He escorts me into the dining room and I feel Emilia's eyes glued to us. He pulls out my chair and I sit, him scooting the chair in behind me before walking around the table, looking for his name card. Which was conveniently placed directly across from mine.

The producer clears his throat after everyone sits and starts making some speech about the project, about handpicking everyone here, blah blah blah. I zone out, trying to use my peripheral to steal glances at him. It's been several years since that night we split, the yelling match that had devolved into quite possibly the hottest sex I'd ever had. No, don't think about that. I need a better look so I turn my head to take a drink and chance a glance at him, only to find him already looking at me, still with the soft eyes. I nearly choke on my drink, managing to swallow it and clear my throat.

He finishes his speech and everyone claps politely, starting to eat and talk amongst themselves. I sit, deciding to choose silence while eating but then Lucien looks directly at me.

"So, what do you think?"

"Uh what?"

Fuck him with those big, stupid eyes.

He gestures towards the producer with his fork. "The project."

"Oh. Well I'm not involved so," I shrug. "I'm just here for Emilia."

He chuckles. "How many rollers were in her hair this time?"

I laugh, my body betraying me. "Four."

"But seriously. A good project?"

"I think..I think it's an honor he hand picked you. I'm not sure what the project itself is, but I'm sure it would be great for your career."

His eyes study my face as I take a bite of my food. "It's not always about the career though."

Anger surges up through me. "Isn't it?"

"How are we doing over here?" Emilia had walked up, cutting off whatever Lucien was about to say to defend himself.

"Great, Em. I'm just going to get something from the kitchen." I set my napkin on the table and push my chair back, Emilia giving me the smallest squeeze to my arm before I turn and head into the kitchen, the door closing behind me and effectively cutting off the sounds of the dinner party.

I lean over the kitchen island, my hands splayed out over the cool marble, trying to calm myself down. I hear the door open, the chatter from the party momentarily loud again before the door swings shut and it's quiet again.

"Em, I'm fine. Really. He just...caught me by surprise. I can hold it in."

"What if I don't want you to hold it in?"

My head snaps up, meeting his gaze, embarrassment making my skin heat up. "Oh. I thought you were Emilia."

Lucien takes a few steps towards me, the light glinting off the thing chain around his neck. "You didn't answer my question."

I stand up straight, crossing my arms. "We've done this dance before, Lucien. It didn't end well."

He smirks and I want to slap him. "I think it ended just fine. In the doorway, on the floor, in the front yard. I had to move my neighbors were too jealous."

My body betrays me with a small smile at the memory but then I reign it in. "I'm still not paying for that end table."

He's closer now. When did he move closer? Almost close enough to touch. His voice is low and raspy. "I'd destroy every end table on this planet if it meant having you under me again."

Fuck. Me.

I turn away from him, not giving him the pleasure of seeing what he does to me. "Flattering. But you made it very clear I was not number one in your life."

"I was stupid. I guess I needed to prove to you, to myself, that I could actually do this acting thing."

Finally composing myself, I turn to face him. "And how'd that work out for you?"

His eyebrows furrow together. "Have you not seen any of my films?"

I had. I had seen them all. I know I shouldn't have, that it wasn't helping me get over him. But Lucien has this pull, this hold on me I've never been able to fully shake.

"Some. But I'm asking your opinion. Off camera."

His jaw ticks a moment before he takes a swig from the glass I only just realized he was holding. "It brought me here."

I scoff. "Yeah, the producer hand picking you is actually a very high honor. I'd be-"

"No, you misunderstand." He shakes his head and sets his glass down on the counter. "I lied earlier."

It was my turn to furrow my eyebrows. "When? You've lied to me a lot."

"Earlier, when I said I didn't know you'd be here. I knew, well...more like hoped you'd be here. Knew it was a long shot but the only way you'd talk to me again."

My heart was racing, nearly bouncing out of my chest as he takes another few steps right into my personal bubble, my lower back against the counter. "I already told you I'm not replacing that end table."

He's right in front of me, the warmth from his body radiating onto mine. "I was a fool, Poppy. I..I love you."

I've waited years to hear him say those words to me again, to hear him actually mean them. To hear them not sandwiched between things like "but I have to focus on my career".

His lips are so close to mine, his breath fanning over my face.

"You broke my heart, Lucien."

"I know. I'm sorry. Let me put it back together."

"Lucien, I-" but he cuts me off with the softest touch of his lips I've ever felt, a whole slew of emotions flooding my body, including the one pooling between my legs.

"I can't do this without you, Poppy."

"Do this?"

"Life. I don't want to do it without you."

Fuck.

I grip that chain around his neck and pull him to me, our lips crashing together, his body pressing into mine. But then the counter scrapes across my spine and I jolt, breaking the kiss to gasp in pain. Lucien steps back, offering me his hand.

"Let's go somewhere where we won't break the furniture."

I shouldn't take his hand. I can still back out. But a small voice in the back of my head believes that he means it. That he wants a life with me, wants what I wanted all those years ago. And right now, I'm letting that voice win. I take his hand and he smiles, that smile that makes me feel like I'm the only person in the world. He guides me out the back door, past the pool, past the changing tents between the pool and the beach, and down the walkway alongside the neighbors cement wall that leads down to the beach.

He spins me and I laugh, tasting the salty ocean air on my tongue. I back up towards the wall and he follows me, lowering himself to my level. His large hands wrap around my hips, gliding down to cup my ass, and I moan into his kiss, my hand gripping his shirt to pull him closer to me. He kisses me, his tongue sliding into my mouth like it had so many times before. One hand still firmly on my ass, the other slides up my side, cupping my face so tenderly, full of love. He pulls back slightly and looks at me, like he's shocked I'm really here. That he's really kissing me.

"I love you, Poppy. I never should have let you go."

"Then don't let me go. I've always been yours."

He kisses me again, his hips pressing into mine and I can feel him hard, my cunt desperately throbbing, begging to feel him inside me again. Somewhere in my haze of desire, I hear myself begging, whispering pleas in his ear to take me, that I need him inside me before I die. His hands slide my dress up my thighs, reaching under and ripping my underwear in two, tucking them into his pocket. He had ruined so many good pairs of my underwear that way, but I honestly couldn't care less. My fingers fumble with his zipper, but I manage to get it down, reaching in to grip him, a sharp intake of breath when my fingers close around him, pumping him a few times. His hands slide under my ass, lifting me up as he presses me against the wall. He slides into me and the world stops moving, colors are brighter, and I finally feel right, like I'm actually here on this planet. Every thrust of his hips brings him deeper into me, holding me here, holding me to him. His breath comes out in short pants, desperate pleas of love and apologies between our moans as he fucks me against the wall.

And then the light blooming inside me breaks, my head pushing back, my nails digging into his skin, my entire body tingling as pleasure radiates out from where we connect. Lucien follows suit, moaning my name as he spills himself inside of me, pushing as deep as he can. We stay like that for a moment, trying to catch our breaths.

"I want to stay inside of you but my legs are fucking shaking."

I laugh and he yelps, quickly trying to pull out of me as my laughter contracts my body around him. He sets me on the ground and zips his pants as I smoothe out my dress, my laughter slowly fading. I look at him and he looks back at me, his eyes still soft and gentle. He tucks some hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek again.

"I wasn't kidding, Poppy. I was fucking stupied before. I need you next to me. When we're together, I feel...right. like I belong here. I don't think I can face this life without you."

I know it's a possibility this will end the same way it did before, but something in his eyes is different this time. He's had time to think, time to experience life without someone with him. Without me. He's grown, matured - well, matured some at least. But do I want to open my heart back up to him? Knowing that he could shatter it again at any moment?

"I'm still not replacing that end table."

He smiles and it lights up my entire world. "That's ok. I have plenty more furniture we can ruin with our love."

-------

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[k-pepp]

With the final season of YR coming up, I’ve been thinking about Wille’s journey again. Because he’s 16, we won’t know if he actually chooses to renounce his title or remain in his role as future king, but I have a feeling this season will give us an indication which way it will go. So, before we get any type of confirmation, I want to get my current thoughts out. I’m aware that a lot of YR Tumblr skews toward King Wilhelm so my pro-renounce post might not resonate with anyone and that’s ok. I just want to put all my thoughts together before S3 comes along with something that totally blows all my opinions and assumptions out of the water 🙂 I understand the idea of wanting Wille to be King because he could be such a great leader. He is kind and compassionate and can be good at taking charge. BUT just because a person could be good at something, doesn’t mean they should be forced to do it. My number one reason for being in favor of Renouncing his Title is the sheer fact that Wille doesn’t want to be King. He doesn’t want the title. He doesn’t want that life. Wille has been shown a multitude of times talking about how he struggles with the duties that come with being a prince. Whether it’s with Erik:

Or August:

Or Boris:

(honestly, this boy will spill his guts to anyone who is willing to even half listen to him. My god. I’m so glad they gave this poor kid a therapist) He's also talked about how he feels trapped in this position. For him, to renounce the throne would be freedom. Freedom to live a life he actually wants.

Even the mere idea of staying in his current position makes him physically ill.

Some people take the end of episode 2x06 to mean he’s moved beyond all that and accepted his role as the future king. I didn’t personally see it that way. I saw it as a combination of a few things. 1) When come face-to-face with it, he just couldn’t let August give the speech (But the fact that he was initially willing to let someone who distributed revenge porn against him become king really speaks to how much he definitely doesn’t want that position) 2) He didn’t want Simon to have to compromise his happiness and give in to a situation he didn’t actually want 3) He didn’t want to hide anymore. He wanted to be himself. Wille is a person who craves authenticity. Which brings me to a bigger point… Life as the Crown Prince / King is inherently inauthentic. One of the main pro-King arguments is that he would blaze his own trail and do things his way. But how? Being a member of the royal family is a job. The basic responsibilities of that job are to do things like diplomatic visits, hosting events, being part of photo ops, schmoozing with people… pretty much all things having to do with putting on a public persona. It’s great that he could be himself in the sense that he would be the first queer Crown Prince / King, but the baseline duties he would have to fulfill are still inherently inauthentic. And I don’t know how he would “do it his way” aside from just not doing it. He hates putting on fake smiles

the photo ops

the schmoozing with people

Erik even told Wille, the way to get through that stuff is to just pretend to be someone else.

We know he’s capable of doing it. We saw how charming he could be at Parents Day weekend. But that was because he wanted to sit with Simon and impress Simon’s mom. Other than that lunch, he mostly hid in his room. And it goes back to my original point. Just because someone may be good at something doesn’t mean they should be forced to do it. (And yes, even if he walked away from the line of succession, he could still have familial obligations, but it wouldn’t be anywhere near the level of what is expected now) At this point, Wille is only continuing as Crown Prince because of a commitment to his family. Mainly Erik.

He doesn’t want to let him down or feel like he’s betraying his legacy. To Wille, Erik was perfect. We only saw two full conversations between them and in both conversations, Erik was telling Wille to get his act together because “it’s not that hard”.

That quote is probably something he told Wille a lot. So much that Wille later regurgitates it to Boris. Three different times.  

Going on to say that Erik could handle everything easily.  

Based on the fact that Erik was going to Boris, he probably wasn’t managing everything with ease. But in Wille’s perception, he was. Wille is basically chasing a ghost. Self-imposed pressure of unattainable perfection. He bears a guilt that pushes him to want to be someone he thinks Erik would be proud of.   The problem with that is, Erik was a monarchist. Maybe he struggled a bit (which is why he went to Boris), but based on the things he would say to Wille, he backed the monarchy / family completely.

Ultimately, I just want Wille to be happy. Maybe S3 will completely change my outlook and I’ll root for him to become king because that’s what he wants. But right now, I think he only wants it out of a sense of obligation to Erik. And honestly…maybe my most controversial opinion…if he did stay in his position because of Erik, he probably wouldn’t change that much within the institution. I mean, he couldn’t change much even if he wanted to. He wouldn’t be allowed to do big things without the consent of the Swedish parliament and maybe a public referendum. And I doubt he’d even have the capability to make small changes. As already pointed out by @piebingo in this great post, Kristina didn’t actually want August to be next in line. But she was overruled. The Royal Court has a lot of power and making any sort of reforms or independent decisions is not that simple. Especially within an establishment that relies on keeping everything exactly the same. But even if that weren’t true. Even if Wille could snap his fingers and make all these huge changes… part of me doesn’t think he would. I know a lot of the folks who are pro-King Wilhelm want him to become the king just so he can completely destroy it from within. But to me, in Wille’s eyes there would be no bigger betrayal to Erik’s legacy than Wille burning the institution to the ground. And if he wants to live up to Erik’s legacy. Not betray him. Not let him down. He will act as he thinks Erik would act. If Wille becomes king because of Erik, he’ll maintain the establishment because of Erik. And he would be miserable doing it. Miserable and without Simon. Yes, my other controversial opinion. If Wille stayed as king, Wilmon wouldn’t make it. Simon is described to us as a socialist. One of his introductory scenes is him calling the monarchy the country’s biggest welfare scammers. I can’t imagine Simon giving up his musical dreams to join an institution that he hates. I also can’t imagine Wille letting him do that. That was such a big part of Wille’s growth in Season 2. Wille wouldn’t let Simon sacrifice his happiness for the sake of his own happiness (being with Simon). Even if Simon didn’t end up pursuing something in music, he made it clear in his talk with Rosh and Ayub that he wants to work hard to make something of himself.

I mean, look at him. Look at this sweet baby angel’s face when he’s told he has an opportunity that will open doors to his future. I can’t imagine him giving up his ambitions or autonomy to become prince consort. Having to live every day under royal rules and protocols. Maybe he would. I personally can’t see it. And finally, I know a main reason people like the idea of King Wille is because we like the idea of a queer king. But as much as we all want queer representation; I don’t think it should be anybody’s responsibility to be the political representation that people want to see. Wille shouldn’t be in a position he hates because he’s queer. A queer person living their life and getting out of a toxic situation is also good representation. A person can’t fix the problem by becoming part of it. Having him be the face of an institution that’s been about exploitation and oppression isn’t going to solve it. It's always been said by Lisa and Edvin that Wille’s problem is not that he’s queer. It’s that he’s a prince. Everything about what’s making him unhappy is about him being prince / the future king. Him walking away from his title would be about him escaping a future that would make him miserable. Personally, that’s what I’m hoping for.

[pocket-watcher]

So I (female) suck at holding eye contact in informal/social situations but can maintain a hard stare in professional/serious ones, even if I'm not fully paying attention. Could I have a hypno-fic about someone taking advantage of that?

Hi lil Watchling! No problem, I’m sure I can whip something up for you…

We first met at a bar.

They were wonderful, really. Very interesting to talk to. Engaged in what I had to say. They asked me about my interests, where I worked, what I did for pleasure.

Such a charming person.

And attractive too, not that you could tell I thought that from the intense gaze I had on my half-empty glass.

The night had continued and they began to trail off… most people didn’t last this long. Only friends who knew how hard it was for me to keep eye contact. I was so interested, though. I just couldn’t fully express it in a way they’d understand.

The second time I met them was at this little after-work thing.

I hated not leaving as soon as the clock hit 5, but it was important to build good relationships with coworkers or something like that. My manager had suggested it.

In fact, she stood about ten feet away schmoozing with the CEO’s son.

Wonderful,

That was when I bumped into them again, and learnt their name was Kai.

Again, they really helped guide the conversation to myself as well as their own input, which I greatly appreciated.

And once again I could feel them pulling away slightly the more I stared at my nails instead of at them.

We were sitting in a small booth when my manager approached.

“Hey Riley, can I run over some proposal stuff for tomorrow? There’s been a few tweaks and I don’t want you to be caught unaware tomorrow.”

My eyes locked onto hers as she slid into the booth.

That was when I heard Kai make a sort of choking sound.

“Are you okay?” I asked, watching my manager spread documents out on the table.

“Yes, fine thank you. Is it alright if I stay and listen?”

My manager looked quizzically at them.

“Not at all, are you interested in working here?” She said.

“I am, actually. I find your work miles ahead of the industry.”

Kai could charm anyone. I was sure of it, as my manager smiled at him and turned to talk me through the next day’s proposal.

I could feel Kai watching me, but I didn’t pay them too much mind. They were thinking, though. About what, I had no clue.

The next day went incredibly smoothly.

A week later my manager put me in charge of interviewing for a new role in our team. I told her I wouldn’t let her down.

The first applicant seemed nervous, and couldn’t meet my eyes. I didn’t hold that against them though. They warmed up as the interview continued and by the end I saw them as a strong contender.

The next told me to smile and that my stare was unnerving. I told him to go to another company.

The third was, surprisingly, Kai.

“I know, I probably should have warned you… I hope you can be impartial with me?” They smiled, and for the first time I held eye contact into those deep, warm brown eyes.

It was no bother though. Of course I could remain impartial.

I rattled off questions and Kai answered them confidently.

Their eyes lit up as they talked about confidence and taking charge, making the role their own. I felt myself losing focus on the interview at hand.

Under the desk I pinched myself awake slightly, continuing, but my thoughts drifted back to their eyes.

The way they caught the fluorescent lights above. The way they seemed to almost shine. It was mesmerising.

“Um, are you okay?” They asked me, after I’d been silent a beat too long.

“Yes, fine.” I cleared my throat, tucking my hair behind my ears. “Sorry, the question was what makes you feel like you deserve this role?”

Kai fidgeted for a moment, not once breaking eye contact with me.

“I think because I’m trustworthy. I’m someone who’s reliable and you could trust to take care of any problem, big or small. I’m strong in the face of resistance, and I’m good at leading others. I’m also a great people person,” they laughed, “I don’t know why but it seems that most people tend to like me.”

My pen dropped to the floor, my hand now entirely limp.

Something about it all had just captured me so thoroughly,

Kai stood and leant over the desk.

“Finally, that was more of a chase than I expected, but I got you in the end, didn’t I?” They tucked my hair behind my ear.

My mouth hung open, and my mind was empty.

“Now, how about you give me that job and I can make you feel this nice and relaxed and fuzzy every day?”

[avo-gal]

Varigo villian au lore (pt2?? Ig?)

Soz this took longer than expected lol.

So originally I had two ways for varigo to meet but this is the one I ended up liking more.

Varian

In this au when Rapunzel frees Quirin that was sort of Varian's breaking point bc Quirin didn't survive the Amber. Quirin possibly being alive and things going back to normal was the only hope Varian had left without that he.. lost it to keep it short. Andrew tries to work his way back in and Varian practically freaks out and kills him. Whether it was intentional or not he's still not sure. But a part of him that sick twisted part enjoyed it. So now his mission is to kill all those that cross him and in doing so rise to power. Varian in this au is (for lack of a better word) very insane. He's kinda similar to jinx from arcane? Except less childish. He's like a mix between Jinx and Silco personality wise.

Hugo

Hugo meanwhile is still a thief. He finds the abandoned village of old Corona and decides to raid one of the few remaining houses for any goods. That house was old and messy. The rooms were filled with blueprints, designs, lab equipment, tools, metal, etc. Hugo is fascinated with these designs and is a good engineer. that's when a raven haired boy sees him and initially freaked out and is about to kill him (which he's kinda into cause like damn). But Hugo is able to schmooze his way out of that with a good ol "I hate the rich. You hate the rich. We should kiss- I MEAN build these robots and weapons and take over the kingdom together!" Over the course of about a year (more or less) Varian and Hugo build everything and take over (it actually wasn't too hard). Hugo in this au isn't too different from his regular self. He's more energetic however and isn't afraid to get gorey. He is def a masochist in this au lol. Whilst Varian does constantly give him opportunities to have the same level of power as him Hugo never takes it. One reason is he does want the responsibility another may be that he likes being below Varian.

Varigo

Over all Varigo have a sort of situationship? They'll refer to the other as their partner, boyfriend, fiance, etc. But their relationship is very toxic. I wouldn't say manipulative exactly more power hungry? Or fear fueled? They do care very deeply abt the other (since they are the only ones that care abt the other) and if U hurt one of them the other wouldn't hesitate to kill you. But they often threaten each other physically and emotionally (and not always in a playful way). Hugo on the outside seems like he's only in the relationship for the money and sex and Varian seems like he's only in it for reassurance and weaponry. But they both have common interests and are almost unstoppable when they work as a team. There are a lot of layers to both of them the closest couples I can think of to reference them to is stolitz more so in the earlier seasons and maybe Harley Quinn and the Joker? I'm not very good at explaining their relationship but they are very fun to write lol.

Donella

I haven't given Donella much thought in this au. I think after finding out Hugo has taken over Corona with Varian she tries working with them offering her men and resources.

TTS Cast (may change)

Rapunzel, Cass, Eugene and the others have a sort of rebellion in the snuggly duckling. I haven't thought too much magic hair wise but I think Raps has lost her powers by now so they have a very low chance of winning. The current state of this au is abt a year after Vat7k would have happened.

Someone asked on the last post if I plan on writing a fic for this au.

The answer is not currently no. If I did write a fic for this I would want to have more planned out and there's alot in this au I'm still not sure abt. If it got enough attention or if someone also wanted to write a fic I might do a couple's one shots just to sort of show the characters and how they act in this au. But for now I'm prob just gonna stick with occasionally posting abt it. As I said if it gets enough attention or if I come up with more for the au then I might do something big or post more often abt it.

Okay byeee U guys are amazing make sure U eat today <33

🥗🍟🍕🧁

[queenimmadolla]

hi babes

word? Chronic

character? Steve

genre? Humor

trope? First time

xoxoxox

atomic betty, you have no idea how excited i was to see you in my inbox! i love your shit so much, this one is for you! i hope you like it, you wondrous woman ♡ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐲 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

  Steve’s nervous.

  Steve Harrington is very nervous. 

  And Steve Harrington is rarely—when not in mortal peril—ever nervous. Ever.

  Regardless of discussion pertaining to the size of his head, Steve Harrington is blessed  with genetics that leave most envious. He’d been an adorable baby, who’d grown from a cute kid turned heartthrob teenager to a handsome man. 

  Steve has also gone through every stage in relation to those age frames. He’d been one pompous asshole when he was a teen and he’d grown significantly as a person in the years since. 

  The crown of King Steve was left behind, encased in the glass display of trophies and framed headlines of high school glory days. He’d traded it in for a new outlook on life, trying his hardest to remove himself from the claws of his father’s control and live a life completely of his own.

  He’d gone into the Business world right after he’d been able to move out, climbing, schmoozing, and sometimes low balling his competitors, to reach the top. Complete financial independence was finally his, and when Steve’s parents were ready to move on from Hawkins, he’d purchased the Harrington home from them—intent on filling those once lonely walls in that big house with laughter, love, and his own family. His kids. And…his wife.

  Steve’s love life fared more notoriously in high school than as an adult. 

  It’s not that he lacks charm or the interests of women—he’s had numerous hookups and one night stands since—when he’d been building a career, romance hadn’t been on the top of his list of priorities. He’d just wanted to scratch the itch; fuck a lot, and get back to business as soon as he’s had his orgasm, and she’s had her several. Personalities didn't matter. He didn’t need anything other than a willing body, warm mouth and wet holes. That was made clear to all his sexual partners, not a single one of them went in expecting more, though a few had left it craving so.

  Steve was sure all of them had fled the earth by the time he was finally ready to provide. 

  He had the home, he had the income, and he had all the love to give. And not a single woman he encountered in two years of dating since, clicked with him. There had been a couple he thought would be more permanent, stick around longer. It had been wishful thinking. 

  None of that mattered now, though. Not with you perched on the edge of his swimming pool, bare legs dangling in the water as you watch him do a few laps.

  You’d been dating for a couple of weeks now, and it almost terrifies Steve how much he cares for you. 

  It had started off as a friendly encounter, though Steve was immensely attracted to you, and when you didn’t seem to hate him, he’d gone in with some flirting. You’d returned it, he asked you out on a date, and the two of you hadn’t stopped; sharing something intense and electrifying in the best of ways. With you, he felt a level of comfort he hadn’t ever achieved before—which surprised him, as he once believed Nancy was his soulmate given how comfortable he had felt with her. You made him feel safe in ways he hadn’t known he was desperately searching for.

  He’s pretty sure it’s going to be you that shares his home with him. You whose belly swells with his babies, ready to fill the rooms. Or at least he’s hoping, praying, ready to beg whatever deity he has to that it’s going to be you. 

  That’s still not why he’s nervous.

  Steve Harrington is nervous because he’s pretty sure the two of you are gonna fuck tonight. 

  He’s fucked a lot, alright? He’s probably slept with more women than the average man, but it was all in good fun for both parties and solely based on getting off. 

  This is not one of those encounters. 

  He’s not just fucking you. There are so many strings attached and he cherishes each and everyone of those strings, so he’s nervous because a lot is riding on this, and while he’s eagerly looking forward to the possibility of you riding him, he doesn’t wanna fuck this up. 

  He’s pretty sure you’re it for him, The One, and he’s also pretty sure he won’t last the second he’s inside you, can feel you around him so yeah—he’s really fucking nervous.

  Apparently, it shows.

  Once he’s done trying to tire himself out—maybe that’ll make him last longer—he wades over to you and uses your lap to prop his arms up on.

  “You okay?” You ask, amusement coating your voice as you run your hands through his wet hair and Steve has to pry his eyes away from your tits. Letting you convince him to skinny dip with you after he’d cooked you dinner had also proved fatal to his libido. There’s no way you don’t notice what’s going on with him under the water.

  “Wha─? OH! No, yeah, I’m fine. Just. Swim.” 

  Your tits also seemed to do his brain in. God—you look so good.

  “I saw. You swam a lot. Looked like you were training for the Olympics.” 

  “I could have made the Olympic team.” He blurts out and you push him off of you to dunk him in the water instead. He emerges laughing as he wipes water from his face. When the two of you just started dating, he might have bragged a bit about his time leading the swim team enough to make it a taboo subject and now he does it to playfully annoy you.

  “So, what exactly are you nervous about?” You lean back, torso stretching out and hands on the ground behind you. Steve has a difficult time remembering how to speak English. He’s pretty sure he’s drooling.

  “Huh? Nervous? Me? You’re mistaken, honey.” He knows he’s caught. You already seem to know him like the back of your hand. It makes his heart flutter and his dick twitch.

  “You were nervous at dinner, too, not like right now but I swore I saw you sweating.” You muse aloud, legs swirling in the water again and Steve’s eyes fly to the space between them just as they close to conceal it. 

  He glances up to see you hadn’t even been looking at him, your stare focused on the lights he’d had strung up above the pool for night swimming as you ponder. You were just unknowingly teasing him.

  “No, no. Not nervous, remember?”

  “It can’t be the house, I’ve been here before…” You trail off.

  “So, we’re just pretending you can’t hear me.” 

  “But this is the first time I come over so late,” The smirk on your face is dangerous and Steve is positive he’s not lasting tonight, “Stevie, am I making you nervous?”

  Your demeanor is so teasing, Steve can feel his face heating up despite the allocation of most of the blood in his body being below hip level.

  “…You’re very beautiful.”

  You throw your head back as your pretty laughter rings out and Steve grins, happy to amuse you and reap the benefits of watching your chest.

  When you're done, your head lulls around and the smile you offer him would make his knees go weak if he was using them, “I might be able to help with that. Can I offer you a smoke?”

  “A cigarette wouldn’t hurt,” He muses, eyeing you curiously. 

  “Not a cigarette, Stevie, though I know you’re a chronic chainsmoker.” You pull your legs out of the pool and stand to retrieve something from your purse. Steve proves the phrase hate to see you go but love to watch you leave applies to your relationship as he unabashedly stares at your ass the entire time.

  When you return, you’ve got a yellow prescription pill bottle in one hand with your lighter in the other. 

  “Think it might calm your nerves.”

  Steve is on you the moment you re-settle yourself, crowding his upper half onto your lap as he smirks, “I think you might be right.”

  After you pull out a joint from your stash jar, and the filter is between his lips, you spark a light and he mumbles around it, “It’s been a while, be nice.”

  You know what that means, so when Steve takes his pull and hands you the joint for your turn, he immediately begins violently coughing and you expect it.

  You don’t expect him to be so focused on his violent coughing that he somehow forgets to float and immediately sinks into the pool. You let out a little shriek, toss aside the items in your hand, and push yourself into the pool after him, water rippling enough to splash over the sides.

  A few moments later, you both break through the surface of the water, Steve spitting out water he’d inhaled when he’d been coughing and gasping down there, and you lead him to the wall of the pool. Steve grips onto the edge, and you grip onto the sides as well.

  After Steve’s done coughing, he starts laughing hard, leaving you to throw him a bewildered look. It only makes him laugh harder, and you truly fail to find any humor in the situation until he wheezes out, “That was so embarrassing.”

  You roll your eyes, but a chuckle sputters out of you and soon you’re laughing with him, despite having ruined your hair and soaked the joint you’d left on the ground.

  “We are telling no one about this. It stays in this pool.” He declares around his laughter. You move closer to him and Steve’s laughter stops but his smile remains, soft eyes filling with lust as you’re nearly nose to nose.

  ”I won’t tell anyone.” You promise in a whisper and Steve barely has to lean in to claim your mouth, the taste of him and chlorine flooding your tongue. He dominates the kiss, mouth easily working yours as he pulls you in closer. Despite his slip up moments ago, you trust him to keep you afloat and press yourself to him, arms wrapping around his shoulders as his hands move to grip your ass, hauling you up and you can feel his head nudge against you.

  Steve doesn’t last long at all. But he makes up for it in recovery time and you go at it again in the pool. And once more on one of the lounge chairs, again immediately after the two of you make it inside, then in the shower, before finally ending in his bed.

  Turns out, he had nothing to be nervous about. You’re completely satisfied with everything he’s got to offer.

[danieyells]

ALSO. ALSO.

CONFIRMATION THAT YURI DID NOT START IN MORTKRANKEN???

But the question is where is this referring to him going to Mortkranken from? On one hand Romeo's saying it--was he from Sinostra first? On the other hand there's reason to believe he was in Frostheim before--and Romeo could have known because he spent a lot of time in Frostheim before he started to hate them?

JUST. I HAVE THOUGHTS AND IMAGES IN MY HEAD. OF ROMEO SCHMOOZING WITH FROSTHEIMERS. AND THE FROSTHEIM FRIEND GROUP IS JIN, HAKU, AND ROMEO. AND THEN YURI COMES IN. AND THEN YURI LEAVES AND TOHMA REPLACES HIM BECAUSE HE ARRANGED FOR DARKWICK TO LET HIM CHANGE HOUSES EARLY(SECOND YEARS CAN TRANSFER WHENEVER, BUT YURI'S A FIRST YEAR AT THIS POINT.) AND THEN ROMEO LEAVES AND HAKU DOES TOO, MAYBE NOT IN THAT ORDER?

Idk idk idk.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

I have a Story Stuck in my Head!

Hybrids Mafia Princess Series

I want to know if anyone thinks of something similar because this one has been running through my head for months. You know the story you tell in your head to fall asleep to? This has been mine for a while.

Mafia!Bucky Barnes and his girl have been together for years now and have a daughter, she has been the light of her fathers life since the day she was born, spoiled rotten.

As she got older though they grew apart, Bucky having no clue what to do with a teenage daughter, he still adores her of course, but she feels as if he has forgotten about her for years…

Cue Klaus Mikaelson!

Y/n meets Klaus at some party her father is forced to bring his wife and daughter to, schmoozing with all of the political idiots New York has to offer and Klaus (who has only recently broken his curse mind you) realizes that Y/n is his wolfs mate, one he has craved since the day he first killed and turned into a werewolf over 1000 years ago.

Klaus introduces himself, getting his girl a drink and flirting, barely noticing all of the looks he receives from the men around the room who all know better than to get that close to James Barnes daughter. They end up in a corner talking about anything and everything, both of them loving how honest they are able to be with each other for what feels like the first time ever, until of course one of her fathers men shows up. She quickly tells Steve to fuck off before pulling Klaus outside, insisting he leaves, giving him time to get away from her father and though Klaus doesn’t care about the man, he sees her fear and he does as she asks.

Later that night, after her mother scolded her all the way home for leaving her security (something that she’s sure was really her fathers issue but he had forced her mother to bring it up, making her feel like her father was avoiding her again) she hears a knock on her window and opens it to find her sexy Hybrid waiting for her to invite him in. They spend the whole night talking and Klaus tells her everything, knowing that his mate would be the one person that wouldn’t judge him or leave him. Y/n also told Klaus about her life, about who her father is and how she feels unloved by him and trapped in this house, and Klaus swears to save her, promises to give her a life away from her fathers business and cruelty (not that Klaus’ cruelty is any better but at least he won’t ever let her wonder whether he loves her or not, she will always know and that is a comfort to her in every way she needed).

One of Bucky’s men sees Klaus sneaking out her window before dawn and informs his boss, running a background check on the man and finding 5 different identities, this convinces Bucky that the man was sent by one of his enemies to hurt him by getting to his daughter. Bucky berates her for being so stupid to fall for this and though she knows the truth she can’t tell him about Klaus, she swore she would tell no one and she won’t break her promise. Bucky breaks Y/n’s heart, believing her so dumb and naive but she allows him to think this of her, already believing her father hates her anyway, which is why she does not hesitate to run away with Klaus later that night.

Bucky searches for her for months, his heart broken at the idea that his daughter thought she was unloved by him. He needed her to know that it wasn’t true and he was just an idiot who didn’t know how to care for a teenage girl. Eventually he finds a man who had been dealing with Klaus lately, clearly not knowing that he was a vampire and ending up injured beside Steve with the rest of his men all slaughtered.

It’s then that Y/n shows up, more beautiful than Bucky had ever seen her, screaming at the creature and demanding he explain why he believed he had the right to harm her family, shocking Bucky and Steve both at how terrified this man was of her. They quickly realized however that it wasn’t really Y/n that he was afraid of as Klaus shows up…

Honestly I have many different endings to that story at this point but it’s been rotting my brain for a while now so I thought ‘maybe someone else will like it too’ and here we are🤣

Mafia!Bucky’s Daughter is Klaus’ Mate Moodboard

Hybrids Mafia Princess Masterlist

[awyeahitssam]

Harry/Tom; Broken Promises + Pillow Forts, unresolved angst. Weirdly soft for them.

Harry may love his boyfriend, but he was also the first to admit that Tom Riddle was a stubborn prick.

They had been dating for seven months - fighting for longer - and, naturally, Yule was no different. They spent the majority of the day schmoozing at Black manor, Harry having allowed Tom to use his political position as both the Potter and Black heir to score an invite. It was a dreadfully boring and headache inducing affair, especially because Tom abandoned him several times to whisper his plans for World Domination into the ears of enthralled purebloods.

And now that they were back home, Tom was refusing to honor his end of the deal.

“We’re both exhausted, Harry,” he sighed, replacing a stiff dress shirt with soft cotton. “Another time.”

Harry doubted that. Plus, it was important to watch today. When Harry was young and Lily alive, every Yule had been spent on this very couch, bundled under blankets with a mug of hot chocolate and Christmas specials playing.

“We just spent most of the day playing politics because you wanted to, Tom, something I only agreed to because you promised we would do this tonight.”

“We left early because you said you were exhausted,” Tom rebutted. “Which means you need sleep, not to watch muggle Telly programs.”

“Fine,” Harry snapped, pulling Mrs. Weasley’s annual sweater over his head to conceal his hurt expression until he could get it under control. “Do what you want, but I’m watching this.”

Tom didn’t have family traditions. He didn’t have family. So it was understandable that he didn’t know how important this was to Harry.

But Harry had watched these with Remus once his mother died, and doing it alone, now that they were both gone, felt wrong.

Not that he had ever truly explained the importance of this to Tom. His lover probably thought of it as a silly whim, a favor. Perhaps he just detested muggles too much to care how his turnabout would affect Harry, and had never been planning to watch at all. It did rather sound like him.

Harry curled into a ball at the edge of the sofa and twisted his wand. Pillows zoomed from every room of the house, blankets floating behind them, and Harry heard a grunt as Tom -- presumably -- dodged one as they piled around him, building a fort that made him feel more cozy and less alone.

“Harry,” Tom hissed, in that all-too-familiar tone of frustration.

“What?” Harry snapped, turning on the Christmas special. His chest felt tight and he could feel his eyes welling with stupid, traitorous tears he refused to let fall. There was a pause, and then a blanket was pushed aside, allowing Tom to peer into his fort.

He was frowning, but it was more concerned than annoyed, and Harry looked away quickly. Not quickly enough, it seemed, because Tom sighed heavily and stepped into the fort, gently grasping his cheek.

“What is it, darling?”

Harry shrugged, pulling out of Tom’s grasp.

“Nothing,” he said through a dry throat. “I don’t like it when you make me promises you have no intention of keeping.”

Tom tensed, but didn’t deny his claim. “You’re typically not so upset.”

Harry turned to face him, anger only making the tears stronger. “Just because I don’t say it doesn’t mean I don’t feel it,” he snapped. “As much as you hate liars, it’s interesting what you’ve become, isn’t it?”

But Tom did not snap back, or fly into a pique as he was wont to do when Harry criticized him. Instead, he crouched down before him with a frown, hesitantly touching his knees. “I’ve truly upset you,” he noted, then offered, “I’ll stay. We can watch the program together.”

Harry grimaced, pulling away from the tentative touch. “I don’t want you here if you don’t want to be here,” he said, heart panging. “Why don’t you go back to Malfoy’s? I know he was talking about the after-party half the night.”

But Tom only frowned at him. “I’m not leaving,” he said. “You’re upset with me.”

Harry’s chest tightened. “When has that ever stopped you from leaving in the past?”

“Well, if you would just tell me instead of expecting me to know!” Tom snapped. “I’m trying here, Harry!”

“Maybe I need time,” Harry returned, just as fiercely though his own voice was quiet. “I don’t have to tell you everything, Tom, and I’ll tell you nothing before I’m ready to. I had your word that you would do this with me. Excuse me for believing that would be enough.”

From the fleeting expression on Tom’s face, a punch might’ve landed gentler. Neither of them trusted easily. Tom, because he’d never had reason to trust. Harry, because his faith had been broken so many times in the past.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I’d love to hear your analysis behind MM schmoozing with the Kardashians. I know you’ve touched base on it before, but I’d love to know more. It seemed like, back in 2020 when Meghan first “returned” to California, she felt she was above that scene. Now, she’s doing what she can to attach herself to them…but I feel the timing is way, way off. She deigned to lower her standards enough to latch on to the K-train as it’s going off the rails. The eldest is basically cutting her ties from the fam. Kim lost a ton of credibility throughout her marriage to Kanye and she’s on the losing side of a feud against one of the biggest stars on the planet (and she was booed last night at the roast of Tom Brady!). The entire family doesn’t mind coming across as messy, or dumb, or promiscuous which seems to be the opposite of the look Meghan tries to achieve (they do, however, work very hard, and for the most part are very family oriented). Is this another backfire on Meghan’s behalf or do you think she has sound networking reasons behind this connection?

Old ask from May 6th

I think Meghan likes the Kardashians because who they are today is what she wants for herself; they're accepted by society, they have huge businesses and companies, they're cultural icons. But what Meghan doesn't understand is that the Kardashians have authenticity and American culture places a really high value on authenticity. You could be the worst person in the world, but as long as you're authentic in who you are, what you believe, and the things you do, we'd generally accept it and support you.

(Authenticity, by the way, is Kim's issue. Something happened and people don't see her as authentic anymore, and that's why she's getting booed and may not be as well-liked as her sisters are. Maybe it was the feud with Taylor. Maybe it was Kanye. Maybe it was something else altogether.)

After all, Meghan has been trying to network her way into being momagered by Kris. Love her or hate her, Kris is one of the more effective talent managers right now. Look at everything her family has now - brand deals, marketing deals, multimillion dollar companies, a general respectability, acceptance - and remember, all of this came from a sex tape. Somehow, Kris lassoed the wind from that storm and brought her family into Emerald City.

That's what Meghan wanted; she wanted to leverage the controversy of marrying into the BRF to roar into Hollywood with multimillion-dollar brands, sponsorships, celebrity friends, acceptance, and relevance.

Except her marrying into the BRF wasn't controversial. Yes, there were a couple of racist articles (which were handled immediately) but by and large, the press accepted her, the public accepted her, and the BRF accepted her. So Meghan had to create the controversy she wanted, and that's where everything fell apart. It fell apart for her the same way it's falling apart for Kim - the lack of authenticity and death by a thousand cuts exposing how she manipulated everything to be seen as the victim.

Anyway. I'm not sure it matters anymore. The Kardashians seem to have successfully pushed Meghan away because Meghan is back to hanging out with Oprah and Oprah's '90s crowd.

Also, I think trying to get in with the Kardashians and their crowd was Meghan's way of trying to upgrade her fame strategy. Hear me out:

1980s - 1997: Fame was best represented by Diana and the paparazzi stalking

1995 - 1999: JFK Jr brought the Kennedy name back into global fame

1998 - 2011: Mid-1990s, Oprah changed her talk show from tabloid trash to what it's now best known as; motivational, inspirational, celebrity interviews. From that time through her last show in 2011, Oprah and The Oprah Winfrey Show were considered the top "get" for celebrity PR. If you made it onto the Oprah Show, you were famous. Oprah's successor was Ellen DeGeneres and The Ellen Show (which began in 2003) and like Oprah, if you were on Ellen, you were famous, you were popular, and you were cool.

2003ish - 2007ish: Paris, Britney, Nicole, Lindsay/Perez Hilton/TMZ era. Fame was cute young twenty-something girls partying in LA.

2007 - 2016: Kardashians on the rise. The Kardashians peaked in 2016/2017 in terms of their press coverage, and they've been steadily (albeit gently) declining since.

2010 - 2016: William and Kate get engaged and the BRF enters a new "golden phase", becoming globally popular again.

2016 - 2022: (I have no idea. It was such a weird time. See the * note below.)

2022 - today: peak Taylor Swift

So if we look at Meghan and her fame "trajectory," she's emulated the lives and PR of the most famous pop culture icons of the last 40 years, trying to catch some of their stardust.

She married Diana's son, tried to get the paparazzi to chase after her the same way, and copied Diana's outfits.

She cozied up to the Kennedy family and connected their surname with hers.

She got the Oprah celebrity interview and inserted herself into Oprah's circle. Then she got the Ellen celebrity interview and inserted herself into Ellen's circle.

She cozied up to the Kardashians, copied their outfits, makeup, and hairstyles.

She cozied up to William and Kate, tried to be their besties, and tried to out-duchess Kate at game Kate herself created and owned the copyrights/trademarks to.

So was Meghan buddying up to the Kardashians so Kris could be her momager and get her the riches of the world as she desires? Or was Meghan buddying up to the Kardashians to collect them for her gauntlet of infinity stones so she could one day snap her fingers and be the most famous person in literally all of history and culture combined?

*I feel like politics dominated much of the conversation 2016 - 2020 with Trump, Brexit, and the rise of the far right and so much so that it consumed much of pop culture in a way we hadn't seen before and I'm not sure if there was anyone famous-famous or tabloid-famous that rose above it to dominate the way Diana, JFK Jr, Young Millennial Hollywood, the Kardashians, and Golden Era of Cambridges did. Then obviously 2020-2022 was COVID, with The Queen's death in 2022 being, in my opinion, the door that slammed the door shut on the 2016-2022 era of chaos, which - in a weird way - let pop culture as a whole kind of shift and regroup. I could probably write a much longer essay on this but I'll spare y'all since my stomach's rumbling and it's lunch time.

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

Mildly emotionally devastating concept, that I haven't found anyway to put into a fic or idea yet so here goes:

--------

The echoing chords of 'Happy Day In Hell' are ringing across the hotel grounds. Cannibals and bettes are carefully hacking away at the different corpses; some angelic, some sinner, some cannibal.

After all, the best way to honour a fallen cannibal was to ensure they lived on inside you... funerary rights in Cannibal Town could cause some distress if you weren't aware of why the mourning would bring their own condiments along...

Several members of the hotel are pointedly Not Looking at the way the angels are being dissected and broken down into a number of tupperware containers that apparently the cannibals just happened to have on themselves. Which was... alarming, buut practical.

Susan was easily visible haranguing the best cuts of wing meat from at least a half-dozen other cannibals and bettes within a four metre radius. That walking stick was a bit charred but it still packed a wallop.

"Should I... maybe go stop her?" Charlie asks, half-joking, because even despite her great power that woman terrified her. It was the aura of disapproval and scrutiny, she thinks, it's like Susan assumed you did something wrong and she was waiting for you to confess.

"Oh I wouldn't think so, it'd be a shame to have you survive that bore of a First Man only to be ended by her wrath, Charlie dear!" Rosie interjects, looping her arm with Charlie's as they turn towards the refurbished hotel. "Why, between you and me, I think she'd even have the audacity to wallop your father over the head with that stick if he tried to get her to stop... she's quite the... I believe the term is 'Karen'?"

Angel lets out a spluttering honk. "Holy shit, she's right! Careful Short King, you get too close and she'll leave you a 1 star Velp review..."

Husk grumbles, hiding his smirk behind a hand. His eyes keep snapping over to where Niffty was running free with The Blade in her hand, yelling excitedly. These little bouts of mania never last, after all.

His ears twitch at the annoying buzz of drones above them. That fuckin' television too cowardly to come help but always interested in watching, recording, putting some twist on reality for his own gain. Hated the schmooze on the guy even back when Husk was an overlord in his own right, you knew he was hanging around and paling it up in search of something.

The cat is pretty sure that Vox is part shark, which makes the anaolgy both better and worse. Sharks like to circle their prey, by the time you've seen them the damn thing has already made up its mind if you're Dinner... and there's not a damn thing you can do about it. Huh, actually they also use electromagnetic waves to sense prey, so, it kind of fits with the tv thing too...

Not for the first time, he wonders who chooses sinner forms and how that determination is made. Some of them are scary creative and yet entirely accurate... like Husk, he'd been a bit lazy and quick to lash out, always darting from place to place. Now he was a cat with fuckin' wings. Ain't fully sure about Angel's spider thing but the guy did always seem to be amidst a web of chaos, tangled in the threads.

And Al? Well, fuck, the guy was a not-deer. Sure, he looked the part of the stag, but it made more sense that he was one of those creepy cryptid Not-Deers that seemed all innocent til you got up close and bambi took a bite of you. He's also wondered if the guy was part voodoo doll, on more than one occasion... all those threads. But he's never had proof. Just some sort of cannibalistic deer.

Pretty sure it was a fucked up joke about how the Overlord died, and that he used to hunt down victims. But eh, who was he to figure it out? Maybe one day Husk'd get Lucifer drunk at his bar and ask how this whole shitshow worked.

He recalled meeting a jellyfish/cactus sinner once, and always wondered how in the 7 rings that'd come about.

"Husk? You good?" Angel elbows him, and he blinks back into the moment to see a cautious Vaggie trying to wrangle the Knife from Niffty.

"Zoned out. Wondering about why we drop down here like this... then went down a mental rabbit hole." he replied, easily. Information, but not enough to pin down his thought process. The trick with a good poker face was also a great poker mouth, but he refrained from sharing that analogy with Angel, because the demon would absolutely make a pun about poking things in mouths. And Husk had had a Loooooong Day so far.

"Char-char, why are there so many little winged camera things around?" Lucifer asks, jabbing upwards with his cane. "They've been everywhere all day, the exorcists seemed to just ignore them, but they don't seem Heaven-made. Actually, I don't think most of those stuck up fuckers would be aware of what the upper councils decided to do down here..."

"Hmmm? Oh, that's just Vox, ya majesty. He's got a little obsession with... well, someone else here. There's normally wards keeping him out but I think they fell with the old hotel... might want to get onto that unless you wanna risk your next shower being pay per view." Rosie tosses back, carelessly, stiffling a laugh. "No manners, that television... ugh, he used to be such a sweet little thing but then he met that moth..."

Her tone dripped with derision.

"Why, the other day he was waltzing into my town demanding an audience and I just about set Susan on him, because for some reason she's immune to his little eye trick, and I tell you! If I wasn't brought up to be a gracious hostess, I would've called Al over to help me figure out which bits of the smug bastard were edible, I've always assumed it's like trying to find the non-toxic bits of a blowfish when you really get in there. Flesh and circuitry for days!"

"Oh? Why would he deign to go anywhere in person, isn't that what those expendable and often delicious little interns of his are for?" Alastor asks, ears aimed right at Rosie now, a sparkle in his eyes at the schadenfreude being offered.

"Quite! The last one was some sort of octopi sinner, tasted fantastic with a fine white wine, I believe I still have some in the fridge if you have time later, deer. In any case, he'd gotten wind that Princess Charlotte had inspired my people to fight." Her expression soured momentarily. "Felt that he might be able to counter the offer with his new 'Angelic Security' devices, let us be something called a beta tester... still not sure what that means. Anyway, the poor fool was so out of sorts that he was even willing to make a rather significant deal between our two territories, wherein he would provide any employees or former employees who were... waiting to reform. All we needed to do was step back from the fight."

Lucifer felt hellfire escape his mouth with each exhalation. "Some upstart overlord thought he could try to usurp the allies from my daughter? On the eve of battle?"

"Now, now your majesty, in all fairness it was only Vox. This is what he does. I'm certain he also made an attempt at a Deal with Carmine once he saw the shipments coming in, and likely used all two braincells to work out why..." Alastor counters, grinning. He was never not grinning, of course, but this felt... genuinely delighted at the overlord's failures. "He failed, so why not simply allow it to go unpunished for now? His drones have seen us discuss this, he knows we know... let him grow paranoid and jump at shadows in that little tower of his."

Lucifer... blinked, and felt his horns fade out. "Heh, that's actually a good idea there, Bambi. Didn't think someone as outdated as you could get those anymore... not enough bandwidth. But you are, as painful as it is to say, right. Let him know the King of Hell knows his name and his sins... and he has all eternity to ensure that Vox will atone for them."

"...I do hope we all get front row seats to the performance, then. Unless you feel the need to designate on this task, in which case I would be more than happy to offer my services in this regard!"

"Awwww, Vaggie, they're getting along!" Charlie stage-whispers, looking simultaneously delighted and perturbed at the subject matter. She was angry at the idea someone had been trying to undo all their work around managing the incoming threat... but, maybe they could try verbal conflict resolution before jumping to beating them up or say, eating people?

"Well that's just fucking terrifying. We need to put a stop to that." Vaggie deadpans back, finally getting hold of the Blade. "Uh, can we put this somewhere she can't get it for now?"

"What? Oh, yeah... we can put it in a frame later on, but for now, just toss it through the portal, 'kay?" Lucifer glances over, swirling a portal open behind her revealing a dusty room filled with ducks. Vaggie dropped it through and it snapped shut before Niffty could dive after it.

"Nooooooo, that was my shiny! I got the angel!" Niffty protested.

"Come now, Niffty, that's no way for you to act now is it?" Alastor admonishes, taking the small sinner from Vagatha and letting her curl into his chest. He pets her on the back with a practiced ease that spoke of more than a few incidents of this very situation. "Do remain calm, if you can, and we shall see if perhaps an angelic needle might be procured so you can ensure those bugs never come back again, hmmm? Would you like that as a reward?"

Carmilla would likely be confused by such a request, but... for the right price, anything was available. And money meant nothing at the Sovereign rank, it just Was.

For some Sovereigns, that meant security and not having to fight every moment; that their souls were cared for and given the means to serve as healthy and well as possible. For others, who had forgotten how it was to suffer, it meant dragging every dollar earned from the filthy, desperate claws of their souls.

Husk may never admit it, but Alastor kept a standard for his souls, and ensured their needs were met. A starving, half-mad creature would be an unlikely helper; but a sinner who was fed, clothed and lived in an alright apartment where they had access to electicity and water and radios? They would be a good bet to back up the person who kept the lights on.

Husk was one of the few who didn't get an allowance... outside of certain matters. Mostly because everything was provided, and he had an unfortunate habit of gambling it away and accruing further debts. Really, Charlie needed to add in some sort of Gambling Addiction group or something... it was getting tedious eating loan sharks for Huk and Mimzy.

Ah, perhaps that was why Husk disliked her so deeply... the fact that they were, to a degree, a mirror for one another. But where Mimzy revelled in her chaos; Husk felt shame and self-loathing, both fine and entertaining qualities but ultimately unhelpful.

"Yeah, it's all good Niff. Besides, you took out the big bad guy, or the not good bad guy, not sure how ya classify it... but Adma was an ass and he had it coming. There's no more not-me angels to stab right now." Angel soothes, hovering a hand as if not quite sure if Alastor would bite him for breaching their space.

"See? Nothing is as bad as it seems, dear. Remember, you're never fully dressed without a smile... and you are a beacon of hellfire when you do, so why not buck up and tell Angel about how much fun you had with the winged pests today?" Alastor coaxes, handing the maid over to a slightly stunned Angel.

"Er, yeah... tell me about how ya got all the not-me angels, Niff."

"Oooh, well, there were so many of them and then you were shooting them and Husk was throwing booming things at them, and your yelling friend threw bombs at them and I liked how they made crackle boom noises, and then the angels fell on the-..."

"Don't panic, she has quite the lung capacity for someone her size. She'll breathe when she needs to." Alastor laughs, assuaging the dawning expression of horror on Angel's face as Niffty just kept talking in a massive run on sentence. He seemed to be waiting for her lips to go blue or the little thing to pass out or something.

"Terrifying to know. Thanks."

"Right, so... pancakes?" Lucifer hedges, turning to the gathered sinners at large and mainly aiming the question at Charlie. "I think everyone worked hard and could use something to eat, then maybe a nap. Or three. Anyone who doesn't want to participate in group naptime can always... shut up and lay down anyway because otherwise I will knock you out. Got it? Excellent. Now who wants chocolate chip? I can also do strawberry, chocolate, banana, pineapple, maple syrup, and ugh... even blood flavoured if anyone here is into that. Whipped cream straight from Gluttony ring, you'll kill for more!"

There was a pause.

"No one is allowed to kill for more. I've decided."

Charlie can't block the little snort that erupts at how ridiculous her Dad was. She wipes at her eyes, heart feeling full and tender at the strangeness of her old and new family coming together under the new hotel roof to celebrate their victory.

Her eyes do rest on the portrait of Pentious, and her throat constricts momentarily... but there's no time for that! Vaggie squeezes her shoulder, somehow knowing as she always does, when Charlie's thoughts have grown heavy. No, Pentious would want them to celebrate victory... not mourn. Not tonight.

That's what tomorrow was for. She could clear the schedule and having morning calisthenics and cathartic sobbing from 10am - 11am, then maybe some art therapy and scrapbooking or drafting letters to Pentious until lunch. Maybe an art class for free expression afterwards? No, too similar. Oooh, what about some primal screaming? That might be good!

"Whatever the Princess is thinking, I want to volunteer to not be part of it." Husk says, concerned about the face journey they were witnessing. It felt very... therapeutic. Which was alarming, in its own way.

"Aw c'mon kitty, I'm sure it'll be fun..." Angel coaxes, shifting Niffty to his left arms, waving at the approaching Cherri through the open front doors. He points up at the drones, and she frowns as she follows the movement.

A few little bombs take care of the technoflock.

Angel can't help but relax knowing the boss of his boss wasn't keeping tabs anymore.

"Pancakes sound good right about now, so let's get t'cooking. Then I'm taking you up on that nap business, for as long as Val will hold off on callin' me inta work."

"Why, my dear fellow, if he calls you into that Studio then perhaps it would be best for the hotel if you were escorted. Someone could... renegotiate your terms, by tearing the moth's head off, for example..."

Angel's breath caught in his throat. "Ya'd do that? Why, whatta ya want in return? Cause I already offered ta suck ya-..."

Rosie burst into laughter at the mildly offended expression on Alastor's face. "Oh, you are a delight Mr Angel Dust! Make no mistake!"

"...I have been meaning to remove the moth for a while, it was merely a matter of identifying a convenient time. All this extermination nonsense and all..." Alastor waved off the inquiry.

Angel felt a flare of resentment, because that waiting had cost him a lot... but he could see what was being offered, what was not being said directly. If it wasn't a service specifically for Angel, there was no debt accrued. Heck the wording sounded like Angel might get a favour out of it for getting him into the Studio.

Well, fuck, the Radio Demon was trying to make friends without actually saying it. Angel could work with that.

"Well, if you want to see where the magic happens... sure, I have the right to do Studio Tours." he shrugs, feigning nonchalance. The whole exchange has gone under the Royals notice. They might've tried to... help. And that hadn't gone over so well last time.

"Yeah, yeah, come on, let's get something to eat so I can sleep for a week..." interjects Husk, rolling his eyes at all these ridiculous theatrics. Ugh, theatre kids. You put em in the same room and it becomes unbearable being in the midst of their cryptic charades and subterfuge bullshit.

He might have a soft spot for Angel, and a weird bruised place for Al, but these two needed to knock it off. "How about we deal with all of Hell tomorrow and just have a day we put our feet up, huh? Won't even get wasted... might teach Legs here how to play poker properly. Which means the pants stay on, I'm warning you in advance, before you get any ideas."

"Awww, kitty scared to see what I got ta offer?"

There's a record scratch noise. "My good man, most of Hell is fully aware of what you have to offer, and so is everyone at this establishment after your very... creative... decisions around show and tell night presentations."

Rosie has tears beading at the corners of her dark eyes, she's laughing so hard behind her hand. "I'm sorry, Al, but the mental imagery that evokes is truly something... was that a... hah... was that a group therapeutic activity?"

"Well, it coulda been a group something, but no one was interested... shame, really. I rarely do things for free, it's a professional standards thing. But, I'm always down to give out a coupon if that'll help..." Angel waggles his eyebrows.

There's a rather pointed 'whump-whomp' sound effect as Alastor levels a truly unimpressed gaze at him. "Do not take it personally if I decline, dear chap, but that sounds like a lot of unnecessary workplace fraternisation... we'd have to run it by the Manager, unless you envision Charlotte also being involved? In which case, I expect his shortness would immolate us on sight."

Angel cracks up. Something about the idea of a wild bangsesh with the hotel staff being tidied up under the title of 'workplace fraternisation' absolutely sent the spider.

Husk, on the other hand, shuddered. "No thanks. Not even for you, Legs. You ain't seen some of the stuff in Niffty's notebooks... you let that side of her loose and none of us'll ever walk again."

"Ah, she is a darling girl with quite the imagination... I noted that her more recent drawings are getting quite good." Rosie agrees, studiously ignoring the wide eyed glare she got from Alastor, whose neck did a full 180 to stare her way. "Oh hush now, you... you know she loves to show me her achievements as much as she does to you. Why, she's our delightful murderous not-child after all..."

Angel pauses on the cusp of the kitchen, from which a number of concerning bangs and crashes were echoing, to stare between the overlords. "Wait, are you two a thing? I got a discount for couples and-..."

His next words are cut off by a dark tendril covering his mouth as Alastor reached his breaking point. The eyebrow waggle suggested that if the Overlord released the man's mouth, something truly and devastatingly lewd might slip out.

Rosie was no help, laughing uproariously to the point Lucifer peeked his head out of the kitchen to check all was well. He seemed to be wearing several egg yolks and flour... and his apron was singed. What on earth were they doing in there?

"You guys uh, good out here?"

"Of course, Sire, of course! Just fixing a little misconception, that's all... and then this charming starlet here made Quite the Suggestion! Oh dear, I haven't laughed this hard since I saw that upstart Velvette walk into a pole, too enamoured in her phone to notice, hah!"

"Why that sounds like a blessed event." Alastor agreed.

"What? You know what, you're all alive and I'm going to check on Char-Char... Vaggie's running out of extinguishers." Lucifer says, and disappears.

"Hmmm, she doesn't seem to have gotten your talent for cooking, my dear. You should rectify that soon, before this lovely establishment burns to ashes after all the effort put into gussying it up again."

"Believe me, I have tried, Rosie... our Princess can't seem to crack the fundamentals of even the most basic dishes. Even Angel tried, and between us we have managed to teach her to boil water without melting the pot. Truly an enigma."

Angel taps the tendril, and he is allowed free. "Whew, okay, yeah that was something and I will make a statement about tentacles later on. BUT, Smiles is right... dunno what it is about our all-powerful ball f optimism... but she can't cook to save herself. We're lucky it was a battle and not a bake-off or we'd be screwed."

Alastor can't help but laugh at that, Rosie's own curling around his tone. "Oh, now that would have been a delightful disaster to spectate..."

Rosie whaps him lightly on the arm. "Come off it now, deer, you know you would have found a way to help her or at least give her the answers... a poppet under the table, perhaps. I know you quite like the little powderpuff, don't go denying it!"

He flicks his ears at her, in a fit of pique, and she laughs harder.

"Yeah, I think she likes ya too, Smiles... and Charlie don't seem like the type to just let go of an attachment. So we're all stuck with her, in the best way possible. Good luck with that. I'm enjoying watching you get dragged, kickin' and screamin' into this weird family at the hotel." Angel grins, all teeth, the smug bastard.

"Husker, do remind me why I have refrained from eating your paramour so far?" Alastor asks, jovially, as a shrill scream echoes from the kitchen and the too familiar blast of an extinguisher in use.

"Cause he's a good source of entertainment, and gossip about the Vees..." Husk answers automatically. He's got a few answers on the backburner, just in case Al ever asked or needed to be talked down after another... Sinsmas lapdance incident. It'd been as funny as it was terrifying.

"Hmm, I suppose..."

The kitchen doors swung open and a rather dishevelled trio stumbled out with smoke trailing behind. Lucifer's magic was combating whatevver was happening in there, and the King's eyes were wide with disbelief as he stared at his daughter.

"Okay then, I'll just conjure up some pancakes then... while that fixes itself up. And then we ban my darling duckling from ever stepping foot in there again." Lucifer says, shooing everyone towards the dining area. "Well that was... informative."

"Mmm, that's why Angel or myself tends to run the cooking classes, whenever Charlotte here schedules them." Alastor adds, unhelpfully. "Rather safer that way..."

"Hey asshole, she's trying!" Vaggie snaps.

"And it's appreciated, but wouldn't you agree that if all members of staff work to their strengths it is... safer and more equitable overall, dear Vagatha?"

"I-... okay, that's a fair point, but back off Charlie. You know she really wants to get better at cooking..."

"And she will, in time, I assure you. But for now... I undderstand there may be pancakes on offer that would suit even Rosie's refined tastes, so if his Majesty could get to conjuring...?"

Lucifer whacks Alastor with one of his wings, shoving him out of the way with a sharp blow to the chest. Not anticipating wings appearing from nowhere, only Rosie's sure footing keeps him upright as she grabs him.

With a laugh, she twirls and dips him, leaving the pair chortling at the whole situation and utterly ticking off Lucifer, whose malicious grin dropped to something rather frustrated.

Alastor rights himself easily. "Why Rosie, old gal, I just realised we haven't danced in a while. Would you have any of the charming little Balls or Soirees coming up?"

"Not officially no, but I was thinking of putting some of the angelic meat on ice and setting up a festival in the next few weeks to celebrate our victory today." She replies, clapping her hands and crinkling the corners of her not-eyes. It would be a grand affair, as every event Cannibal Town hosted was purported to be.

"Well, the hotel staff and guests will naturally attend, though I do believe we may need some substitutions to be made... apparently even dear Angel Dust, who is no stranger to Sinner meat, isn't a fan of digesting it for some reason." Alastor responds, expression nonchalant as if he didn't just make a joke so blatant Angel nearly inhales a whole pancake in shock.

Cherri saves the day as she triumphantly bursts in to whack him on the back hard enough to dislodge the offending food. It hurtles across the room and is caught in Niffty's dustpan tray.

Angel wheezes, "Did I go insane or did Smiles just make the joke I think I heard?"

Rosie looks scandalised. "Why Alastor, are you not using your impeccably worded ill humour here? For shame, young man! For shame! Why, I still remember the time you made that statement about electical ports that made Vox short-circuit and explode a jukebox... oh, his smoking screen was delightful!"

"I have no idea what you refer to, madam."

"You stop that rot or I'll pull your tail in front of everyone, Al... just like you're pulling my leg with this faux innocence nonsense." Rosie chuckles. "Oh deer, you're lucky I'm Fawn'd of you... the things I Doe for you. I really should stag for it."

"That last one was a reach and you know it, Rosie." Alastor shot back and side-stepped her playful attempt at mauling.

"There's some kinda chemistry here, but I'm getting the feeling its less romantic and more like... whatcha gotta do to make a bomb." Angel says, narrowing his eyes at the pair. Starling a laugh out of both overlords.

"Oh, speaking of bombs, there's a few out amongst the wreckage I can't seem to find. They're gonna go off in a bit, timed the little buggers cause I wasn't sure if we'd need to put a little surprise on our corpses and all. So, don't go digging through the rubble for a bit, alright?" Cherri says, hoiking a thumb over her shoulder.

"Er, maybe we go see if Dad can find them before an ally gets blasted into chunks, huh?" Charlie says, nervously.

"Probs for the best, princess. Vox still has his little spy eyes floatin' about outside... might not be good to let the idiot box get a pic of you blowin someone sky high after the battle." She shrugs. "No skin off my nose either way a'course."

"Persistent today, isn't he deer?" Rosie says, rolling her dark voids and bumping their shoulders together as the late breakfast of a thousand pancakes is abandoned in favour of finding explosives to prevent future disasters. Or watch them first hand. Given the audience.

Lucifer was practically dragged by the wrist towards the front doors by his frantic daughter; Vaggie trapped by the other hand. Angel had his phone out, curious to see where this went as Cherri came along for shits'n'giggles.

"Come along, Husker..." Alastor said, pointing out the door and putting a too-companionable arm about the cat's shoulder as he dragged him out. "Well, my good fellow, let us see what chaos the rest of the day brings..."

There was some deep mumbling of almost insults, but the cat capitulated easily enough. His ears flicked in interest as someone outside shrieked and something let out a deep muted boom.

"Oho, the fun is just beginning!" Alastor grinned, and released an array of poppets from his shadows to help scour the field. Rosie also grinned, noting how much her foolish friend clearly cared, and how devastated he was going to be when he actually realised it. Why, that was going to be hilarious to weather!

"...-veryone could just stop digging for a minute while we, AHH! Oh, they're just helping look... could use more warning next time, Al!" Charlie called as they broached the front doors behind her. "As I was saying, anyone digging, step back we're looking for explosives!"

Vaggie added to the command with a more authoratative tone.

Lucifer was above them all, hovering with eyes a blood red scanning the area about them. He pointed to different devices and tossed them into the sky to detonate. A few of the poppets found devices and piled on them until they triggered.

Those damnable drones watched them the whole time. No matter how many were blasted by accident, ahem, during detonations... another two would turn up. The proverbial hydra indeed.

There was an interminable beeping coming through the airwaves aw well, rather pissing off the Radio Demon, because it seemed only he and possibly the King and Princess were aware of it. Although Vagatha was rubbing at her temple and glancing about.

"If anyone is interested in the source of that noise, I suspect the drones are emitting it. Not certain why, though. Possibly just to annoy." He informs, glaring at the cameras and feeling his distortion field flare persistently.

"Oh is that what that is? Going to have a word to Socks about his meddling, it's annoying." Lucifer mumbles, batting a few drones to pieces with a flex of his wings.

Vox, in retaliation, ramped up the sound. Everyone was now able to hear this incessant beeping rhythm; and of course, the blasted thing was just out of synch enough that one couldn't possibly try to ignore it. It was like someone had forced morse code, a dying furby and an old dial up modem to procreate and then they fed the child through a blender.

It took up residence in your brain and shook the foundations.

"This fucker is going the right way for a Royal Fucking!" Lucifer growled, and then paused. "Of the ass-kicking kind. Just to clarify!"

Vaggie was covering her ears, "Ugh, can we make him stop?!"

Alastor was directing his shadows and tendrils to start destroying anything hovering above them, and definitely being sure to only land glancing blows on the king...

"What a sloppy little tantrum this is, I can't fathom what he thinks he'll gain by ticking off the royal family and most of cannibal town. You may get your wish to try butchering his vile corpse, my de-..." the jovial tone cut off with a choked exhalation of surprise. Followed by a rather confused, "...Rosie?"

Alastor collapsed as her bloody hand pulled free of his back, clutching the struggling heart in one fist, expression devastated as she bit her lip to shreds.

Charlie whirled around and screamed.

"S-sorry deer, Vox... came to visit..." Rosie mumbled, disgusted at how she couldn't make her own body stop, how she couldn't drop the heart. How his eyes locked onto hers, hazy with pain and betrayal before they fell blank.

Husk snarled as the chain and collar appeared, her dusky pink subsuming the mystic green all the way to his throat. Niffty's agonised cry came from inside the hotel and she burst outside in a panic.

Rosie couldn't stop it. She couldn't...

And Niffty's expression was as devastatingly accusatory as Husk's was infuriated. Charlie was shaking the deceased overlord at her feet, begging him to get up, for her father to help them.

And those damnable drones watching, recording, likely streaming to millions of souls the sudden betrayal of Sovereign Overlord Rosie to Sovereign Overlord Alastor. She would be reviled, if allowed to live. Vox had broken both of them.

"Please, Dad... can you... can you fix this?" Charlie sobbed. Not another one, not today, they couldn't even bury Pentious... and now this?

"I... he's a sinner, ducky, he'll reform once he grows his heart back." Lucifer assures, and snaps up an obscuring barrier when he feels too many eyes intruding upon the moment.

Vaggie has her spear pointed at Rosie. "Give. us. his. heart. back. BITCH."

"I don't... think I can..." she manages, through clenched teeth. "Said... to eat... it..."

"Who?"

Husk's eyes went wide. "Vox. That motherfucker came to visit you and put a little trigger in your head so you'd betray Al... cause you two together are a threat to his little Vees." There's a pause. "And he always thought Al liked you... that way, but didn't like him. Jealous fucking prick. Shit... never thought I'd hate the day he didn't own my chain anymore but... this ain't right."

"H-he'll be fine, he'll reform soon enough." Angel asserted. "I've seen some fucked up shit in Hell, but in one of the Studios there's a whole gore and vore section, they... they pull out stuff and eat it and it just takes a bit of time and a boost down the chain to get 'em back up and running. Not sure about time frames, though."

Niffty is biting Rosie's arm and it hurts, but even now she can't drop the heart. He'll regen faster with it, but her brain wants her to eat it, like she was ordered to.

With a wet thunk, her hand drops to the ground and finally the fingers release the organ. Niffty scoops it up and hands it to a horrified Charlie... which is intercepted by the more practical Vaggie, and she searches the wound for the best way to get it back in in position.

"Sir, can you... do anything? About this? I'd hate to drop it in upside down and-... are you okay? Your wing... there's blood on it."

"What? Oh, not mine... that's Sinner blood, still got the golden ichor thing going on. Wonder where it-... oh." Lucifer's expression tightens as he turns the deceased sinner gently onto his back, mindful not to let the wound touch the cement. Because it would stain. Not because little bits of debris in the wound would be irritating as hell to the healing process. Definitely the first reason.

Okay, this is fine. It's not Terrible. But... oh, Char-Char is not gonna like this. Lucifer makes sure the barrier is transparent before he snaps open the overlord's ridiculous amount of shirts to reveal a rather messy line of stitches on a wound that sang with angelic grace.

"Well, okay, that could be a problem... Char, do we know how he got hit with an angelic weapon?" Lucifer asked, trying to ascertain if this would count as something fixable, or if he'd have to have the same talk with Char he had when her last pony had 'gone back to the earth'.

"He faced Adam on the roof, and then disappeared." Vaggie adds in, helpfully, and it makes the king cringe. "I didn't think it would be this bad. I felt some residual but... they'd been snacking on angel bits after the battle, so..."

"Yeah, okay. Char, I know you liked the annoying deer, but I need you to understand that the fact he was already severely injured by fucking Adam..."

There was a pause. "Okay no, I heard it that time. I meant that he was hurt, while fighting adam, who is a motherfucker. Slightly more literal in the case of you, Charlie, but to be fair, I also-... not the time! Got it! Okay, let's fix your overlord... if I can. Because what I was trying to say is that there's a chance that... it might be permanent."

"Did Vox know, when he set this all up? He's been obsessed with Al for decades... no way he'd risk killing him for good, right?" Husk says, ears flat.

Angel and Cherri are flipping through their phones, expressions darkening with each post.

"He knew. There's a video taken of Al's fight with Adam, he's kicking the guy's ass up until his staff gets snapped in half by that axe thing... looks like the light from it blinded him for a sec, and then Adam did that. Vox's got it on every news channel, right beside a video of Niffty stabbing the guy and his majesty over here letting Adam go. Got his own spin on it already..." Angel grounds out.

"The fucker's also already got the video of the creepy hottie over there killing the hot psycho up on Vitter and Sinstagram." Cherri reports. Velvette was a fucking nightmare when it came to spreading information online. No one in hell would be ignorant by this time tonight.

"And even if he does live, Rosie gets his soul or she frees him and his souls are forfeit. The fact she killed him without a challenge is going to be more against him than her." husk explained. "You can take a soul in a challenge, like Al did to me, or a battle... but this? This is gonna tank her reputation as well."

"Would a statement from the Royal family, who witnessed it, help?" Angel asked, jerking his head at the pair. His Majesty was doing something with oddly burnt-looking golden light, hauling it hand over hand into a ball that Vaggie was holding with the enthusiasm of someone handed a well-used nappy.

"Maybe... but he was associated with the hotel, the princess's hotel... they could see it as saving face." Husk mused, trying not to think about the fact that the body beside him was getting cold. "On the other hand, if Vox is forced to admit the truth... that might save it. But that depends on if what the King is doing is gonna work."

"Not. Helping." Lucifer snarls. The gold light is finally coming to an end, and he's hoping that the lack of it might get the body to recognise it wasn't, in fact, double-dead from an angelic wound but instead a regular sinner death. So it might trigger the reanimation magicks saturating the Ring.

He prodded the Overlord's chest, realigning the heart to the correct position with a gentle nudge. Vaggie had been pretty spot on, actually. Good head in a crisis, gorgeous, first aid skills and a warriror to boot... he can't wait to welcome her into the family!

Wait, focus on the now.

"Okay, come on you smug fucker, I need to win one of these weird dad-offs against you, I can't have the score be 1-0 due to a death-based technicality. Oooh, I';'m gonna make you eat so many sugary snacks after this, little mister i-don't-do-sweets, until you puke..."

Charlie is distraught, but also verging on worried. She's hoping that's just the sound of her dad letting his mouth move to keep it busy so his brain could think, because otherwise she might need to do an emotional check in around the hostility between Al and her Dad.

Rosie just stares, her blood is plip-plip-plopping on the ground in a growing puddle that Niffty is ignoring in her worry. Her Overlord powers are boosted from the influx of new souls, so the wound is scabbing over. Why, by tonight she'll have a new hand... but at what cost?

Even if he lives, will he ever trust her fully enough to turn his back to her, as he had done today? How many decades of trust had that taken?

He used to turn his back on Vox, too... before the fallout. And now Vox, in his pique, had seen fit to remove Rosie from the very brief list of people Al trusted absolutely.

Would he allow Husk to dip him like she had? Possibly, in certain circumstances.

He would let Niffty climb him, and dance with him. She was even sighted curled against him when she'd had a nightmare, and he held her back without his skin crawling.

The little Princess, perhaps he would let her close enough... but something else held them apart. She hadn't yet guessed at it.

Angel Dust, surprisingly she could picture Alastor allowing the other within 5 feet. As long as the spider kept his hands and mouth appropriate... there was a lot she sensed from that sinner, he didn't seem a terrible sort. But... he was also a toy for a Vee.

And that would put him high on the list of suspicion.

All these thoughts hinged on if Alastor lived.

And right now... he seemed unresponsive to the best of the King's efforts, to the growing awareness of those around them.

She reached for his chain, perhaps a boost would help? That always gave her cannibals and bettes a better chance of avoiding certain demise.

...and she gasped.

That drew attention to her again.

"What?" snaps Husk, his tail lashes. He wants to be angry at her, but he's restraining it, given he knows this wasn't her choice. "I mean... look, I didn't mean to be short with you, it's just-... ya covered in his blood and Vox is too far away to turn into a scratching post."

"I can't find his chain to give him a boost. Even if he was... there'd be a broken chain there, whipping in the ethereal wind." she says, voce quieter than she's used to.

Husk's pupils turn to slits. He knows something.

"Husk...?" she hedges.

"If he lives, he's gonna kill me for this, powers or no powers... you know he was a fucking nightmare from the minute he landed, and the Overlord status, the souls, they only boosted it to the next level."

"He won't, if it's important enough, he'll understand after a bit of a rampage. Now spill it, mister!"

"Look, I dunno who it is... but he has a deal. Reckon it's why he went missing for 7 years or so without warning. His soul doesn't belong to him, anymore... but all his souls do. I don't understand how that works, so don't ask. But it would've had to be someone extremely powerful or the most fucked up situation to force him into a Soul Deal."

Lucifer spared a hand to resonate with whatever was sitting about the Sinner's throat, and made a rather disgusted sound at the ludicrously tight manacle that started to manifest now he was paying attention.

"Yeah, Hunk's right... someone very powerful put their mark on this. Obscured it a bit, but I'm the fucking king of hell, so... one sec." Lucifer concentrates, and then jerks back with a hiss like a scalded cat. "I must have read that wrong because... that felt like Lillith's magic all over, and she's been gone for-... oh."

"He knows where mum is?" Charlie's eyes are wide with longing and betrayal. "Why didn't he-... do you think she told him not to say anything?"

"Oooooh yeaaaaaah, there's a lot of clauses on that bad boy he's locked in. A gag order wasn't even close to the most fucked on the list... but there is something we can use. Two of the clauses I can make out deal with only dying in defence of the hotel, and not dying until his task is complete or otherwise negotiated."

"Well he did. Die I mean. And sort of for the hotel." Vaggie adds, haltingly.

"But, the chain isn't gone." Lucifer counters. "Meaning the deal considers him alive and able to regenerate because he didn't meet the criteria!"

"Sir is going to be okay?" Niffty near shrieks in his ear. And wow, when did she get there?

"Er, seems like it..." Lucifer said, applying another little pulse of his own magic to the body, sealing up the torn arteries and ventricles to give it a headstart on the healing. "I-...oop, there we go, I felt a heartbeat. And there's another... and another. Excellent. Your pet is going to be okay!"

She throws him A LookTM that is all Lillith.

"Daaaaaaaaad..."

He laughs, the sound cathartic. "Okay, okay I'm KIDDING char-char. He's an asshole that I'd love to pound... er, like as in fighting... but he still fought for you and so far none of his weird shennanigans have actually hurt you. And if he's here on behalf of your mother then I want the chance to ask about it."

"Should we move him?" Vaggie asks.

"Can't stay here forever, unless you think he might like to regenerate with a tan?" Lucifer jests. "Alright, rock paper scissoring for who wants to carry the fucker inside?"

Angel and Cherri look interested in that version of the game, but husk steps in. "I got it... wouldn't be the first time. Not as heavy as you think, but also not as light as someone that thin suggests. C'mon you antagonistic deer, let's get out of lens range. Pretty sure you'll rip it off when you wake up, but we don't need to make Vox's cock any harder than it is..."

"What the FUCK could you possibly mean by that?" Vaggie looks like she might throw up. That could also be the adrenaline crash coming on.

"Er, well even I know that Vox has a... thing, a kink or a fetish or something like that, for hurting the strawberry pimp here. Seein' him hurt and brought low. Got something to do with their breakup or whatever, sometimes Val bitches about it but never gives clear answers on that." shrugs Angel, looking uncomfortable. "I've seen some specific shit in my time, but the guy... he's obsessed. There were a few times Val had me play with him and Vox, and there were... there's a whole closet of body pillows with Smiles on em. He usually tears them to shreds... but it was the wig and the cosplay that really made my skin crawl."

There's a pause.

"He ain't the only infamous person here who Val has outfits for, for the studio... but if the King of Hell wants to deal with the fact there's a film coming out called Prince-yes of Anal: The Cummination, with a weirdly accurate casting for the main characters... you didn't hear it from me." Angel adds, making pointed eye contact.

Lucifer has already passed all five stages of grief the humans know of, experienced the other seven, and has passed into a sea of pure calm fury. "I'll take that under advisement... I'll be tearing your boss limb from limb in the next 3 to 5 business days!" He says too cheerfully.

"For that, I'll let ya have the Deluxe Package for ya own pac-..."

"Please stop. Today's been a lot so far... and we still have to undo whatever this mess is." Lucifer silences the porn star. "I mean, thanks for the consideration, but boy howdy do I want to kill your boss and setting you free is a bonus. No price necessary."

"What do we do about Rosie?" Vaggie asks, eyeing the Overlord.

"Well, first we go inside then I'll see if I can pick out the exact magical frequency Vox uses and erase it from her completely. Then, we''ll see about that hand... and then... I have no idea how we fix the optics or whatever its called. The fallout?"

"The moment he's awake and well enough, I will return Alastor's souls and contracts to him. That's what we're going to do, my good man!" Rosie interjects, allowing the King to lead her inside with a frm grasp on her upper arm.

Husk has laid Alastor down on a couch, and Charlie was sitting as close as she could in an armchair, staring intently at every faint inhalation. Angel was carefully trying to alternate between wiping off the excess blood from teh healing wound with a wet cloth, and keep Niffty from 'helping' with her cleaning rags.

Didn't need an infection on top of unanticipated heart amputation, now did we?

"Say Niff, can you help Al by going and getting him some new clothes? These'll need washing and repairing."

"Yes! YES I CAN!" She's gone in a blink and back almost as fast with abundle of everything that is placed reverently by the couch.

Rosie is led to a chair further away from the group, and the King stares right into her eyes the second she's seated. It's like having your brain x-rayed, its the only way to describe it.

His eyes are red, and things shift around in her mind before something is tugged, dragged and snuffed out. He blinks. "Alright, that should do it. Any compulsions to murder the deer again?"

"Not at all."

"Great. Don't do it again. Charlie was very upset."

"I promise."

"Cool, excellent, let me fix your hand." He waggles fingers and the appendage starts to regrow in a golden light. "This might feel odd... I've been told it's like when you sleep on your hand and it goes tingly for a bit but then it's fine."

Angel's wrangled some of the shirt off and Charlie is valiantly not looking to allow Alastor maximum privacy. Cherri, on the other hand, is clearly getting a sticky beak in and committing it too memory as one of the few people alive to see the great Radio Demon half starkers.

"Fluffier than I thought..." she tosses out, testing Charlie's resolve, and the Princess peers through her fingers. "Hah, caught you snooping, just look... can't be too picky when you're half torn apart. Looks like it's pulling together though, s'all good."

"Oh, it does seem to be healing pretty fast. That's good right? Wait... doesn't reforming need a lot of energy - should we get him something to eat for when he wakes?"

"Oh I think you can scrounge somene up from outside. See if they haven't wrapped up all of Ignatious and Berthilda, those two were kind souls who wouldn't mind if we used their remains to help a friend heal properly." Rosie pauses to think. "Unless of course you find Susan deceased out there, in which case she would be the ideal candidate for us both to share."

She laughs.

Charlie give a nervous, uncomfortable laugh and Niffty lets out an unhinged gale. She doesn't know why they're laughing but likes being part of things.

In a move that gave at least three occupants of a room a rather ironic heart attack, Alastor sits upright, startling everyone in four feet.

"...she would be far too tough to bite through, have you gone mad, old girl?" echoes from somewhere around Alastor's head, but distinctly not from his mouth. He tenses, hand going up to his half-dressed front, and snarls. "What...?"

"What do you remember?" Charlie hedges.

"Dealing with explosives, and then seeing Rosie's hand erupt from my chest like the creature from Alien..." Alastor realises, too late, that perhaps he shouldn't have shared that he knew that particular cultural phenomenon. "I mean, to say, that I have read a book about the-..."

"You've seen a movie? I thought you'd rather die than-..." Angel cuts himself off.

Alastor lets out a strained laugh that does emanate from his mouth this time. "Quite. The picture box was insistent I see things he deemed cult classics... some were more fun than others. That is neither here nor there."

Rosie stepped towards Alastor and noted, crestfallen, the small flinch he can't suppress in time. Several bodies move between her and the overlord she'd been practically family to for nigh on a century.

"Deer, I am so sorry for this... Vox, he seems to have left a nasty little surprise when he visited Cannibal Town the other day. I didn't realise or I would never have been so close to you... I promise." She says, sincere as possible as the words dodged between a number of bodies to reach her fawndest friend. "Do lay back down, you'll only tear things further, I'm afraid that was not my best kill... you know I value precision, normally but this was haphazard."

A sigh. "I suppose that this has spiralled out of control and he's already gloating about it on his little machines?"

"Afraid so. Everyone is painting this is an opportunistic ambush... we shall need to work hard to correct it. But between your network and mine, I think we can turn the tide back." She pauses. "Speaking of back... I'm afraid I need to return some things to you that I accidentally acquired. Would you let me close enough for that?"

"It's not me keeping you away." The radio voice said over the airwaves. Several people shifted, letting her closer, but staying pointedly nearby just in case.

Rosie knelt beside her best friend, and put out her hand. The one barely regrown, of all things, the skin not quite the right shade but it would fade as the magic settled.

"I, Sovereign Overlord Rosetta of Cannibal Town return to you, Radio Demon Alastor, the souls which belong to you through contract, combat or otherwise made deals as they were unfairly obtained. This will return your status as Sovereign Overlord, and I will speak up to advise the truth of the matter to the public to thwart the current rumours of your demise."

Without hesitation, he took her hand. The magical backlash took several of the assembled off their feet as ducky pink and blinding green writhed through the air. Faint screams echoed and chains clanked.

Niffty and Husk felt their collars activate, the chaisn changing colour once more. It was a relief as much as it wasn't.

The rush of power seems to have gone straight to work aiming for the injuries, just as she'd hoped.

"Bit soon, wasn't it? The guy was dead a minute ago." Angel questions, still holding a spare shirt for Alastor.

"Well, yes... but holding onto souls you didn't earn is like... ah, like food poisoning. It's fighting you back the whole time. And to the Overlord they belong to, soul bonds and the power they bring can be enough to seal even normally fatal wounds with the right application."

"It's fine Angel, though I do understand your apprehension, I did somewhat promise to deal with your pest problem and then had the audacity to go and dide on you. The height of rudeness!" Alastor laughs. "Never you worry though, I will deal with him shortly when I no longer have a window through my torso."

"Okay for one, I was genuinely worried ya died it wasn't about the promise or nothin, cause you're a spooky fucker but the minute I can get a clear photo of ya, guess who's going on the wall with my other friend pics? That's right, and you can't stop me!" Angel says, glaring down, hands moving a mile a miinute. "And two, don't you go worrying about Val... Short King is gonna kill him first for the porn parody of Charlie he's got in the works."

"A picture can be... negotiated. If that is what you wish for, though the sentiment is hardly necessary." Alastor says, and Rosie fight the snort at his nonsense. "And secondly, no I don't think so. How can you trust in a man who can't recall the day of the week to carefully deconstruct your owner until he is a bundle of sobbing nerves? No, no, I shall go and do it this instant! Can't leave it to chance... and the Vees need to Pay For This Insult..."

Shadows rise up from the couch amidst much horrified yelling... and then Lucifer snaps his fingers, vanishing them in the same instant golden tethers appear around Alastor's wrists.

"Oh no you don't, bellhop. I spent way too much time putting you back together like the proverbial kings horses did to humpty dumpty, so we're NOT going to fuck that up again by dying on me again. Got it?"

"It seems I have little choice but to obey... a rather common trait amongst the royal family." Alastor snarls.

"Oho wow, okay. Also, how the FUCK do you know my wife? We;ve got time now, while you sit there and let healing happen, so come on and spill it."

He appeared alarmed, then covered it.

"If you know of it, then you know I cannot possibly share than information. And I do believe that I would much prefer to be in my room-..." the stubborn man tried to dissolve into shadows again, and when that failed, he started to get up despite some very vocal protests. The hands reaching for him paused and jerked back when they noted how stiff he'd gone at their approach.

Angel remained still as stone, knowing he was standing behind a man who had just had a Bad Day involving a literal backstabbing.

Lucifer, annoyed and perhaps slightly a small amount a little not at all if you checked on a cosmic scale concerned... was having none of it. He didn't relish the way the other twitched back as he flew over, getting in the Overlord's face, not like he would have under other circumstances, but he needed to get the point across.

"No, we're not doing this. You straight up died today, and it was pretty fucking awful for us too, the others moreso because I was already working out what kind of pet memorial I'd need to rig up in the palace garden for you. Like all of Char's other pets..."

The indignity was radiating off Alastor now.

"But this whole blustering thing has to stop. I know you're prbably hurting and don't feel able to trust anyone, heck that was my first three thousand years in hell after we fell because boy does it take a while to reform after burning to ash after your family betrays you. But anyway, what I'm trying to say is that everyone here helped bring you back and keep you safe. No one's gonna waste that effort just to off you while you take a nap to finish sealing up those jagged nightmares in your torso."

Alastor's ears are pinned flat in some kind of negative response but honestly lucifer is beyond caring. The guy has to hear it.

"For some reason, they like you, and I know it's hard to trust because your weird psycho-ex stalker got your bestie to kill you publically or whatever... but these guys won't do anything right now. They might beat the shit out of the picture box if he comes within four feet of here, though."

"No, it's about optics, Rosie and I need to be seen together acting as if it was merely an elaborate prank... we can't let Vox win."

"Why not? He's gonna be dead in 48hours, let him enjoy his hate boner for a bit." Lucifer shrugged.

"His wha-... ? I don't want to know. Rosie, you understand what I'm saying, surely?"

"Well, yes, but we can allow it time to fester. How deeply disgraced would he be if you appear fine and hale in a few hours time and throw his information under suspicion. So many assume the news is doctored as is."

"Rosie... you have betrayed me a second time in one day..."

"Ouch, that wasnt really called for, was it Bambi?" Lucifer winced. "Sounds like you could use a timeout... goodnight."

He taps the sinner dead centre of his chest, and a golden burst of power drains the consciousness from the Overlord. Several hands manage to catch the lanky form before it crumples, and he's laid back on the couch with care.

"Well, now that's sorted, who wants me to reheat the pancakes while we plot how best to destroy these Pees I've heard so much about today?" Lucifer grins, clapping his hands.

"Oooh, me me memememememememeeeeeee!" Niffty yells, and then stills. Eye going horrifyingly wide. "I want to pour Vox's blue blood on my choc chip pancakes until they go soggy..."

"Love the enthusiasm, but I can only offer whipped cream or maple syrup today. Maybe blood if there's some uncoagulated around here." Lucifer replies.

"Oh, okay... I'll have whipped cream and sprinkles please!"

"Coming right up, little lady! Now, Charlie I-... oh, I see you've brought in a whiteboard for this. Excellent. Who has an idea how we can ruin the Gees? No idea is too silly... let's get creative. I have an excellent idea involving a giant wooden duck..."

Husk tucks the blanket back around Alastor, holding a disgruntled expression taut on his face as best he could. But secretly relieved things had at least gone back to the status quo.

He watched idly as Angel added an idea involving something that couldn't possibly fit in any orifice in Hell, and explained why he was justified in requiring three large shark sinners wiedling chainsaws. That was noted down as Plan K by a mildly bemused, mostly horrified Charlie.

He nudges the sleeping Overlord. "Hey fucker, turns out more people care than I think you'd even imagine... so it's gonna be amusing to watch you fumble through that incoming affection. Might be worth keeping my chain. But you know what the best bit is?"

He craned in right next to that fluffy ear. "See, I think you also like 'em back a bit and that scares the hell out of you... so I'll be sticking around to keep your ass alive long enough to see you have a meltdown over this unconditional affection. So you rest up now, Al... we've got all eternity ahead of us."

--------

No real end, its 2am fml ive written what was meant to be a brief concept for several hours and it has no conclusive end

mostly it was meant to be 'how fucked would it be if Vox got to Rosie and she, the only one alastor trusts, was the instrument of his death in a betrayal so strong he'd never trust again?'

My thinking is either Al dies, or he's so shaken that Vox thinks he could step back in with open arms and get what he wants.

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

For the request game!

Fall With Me - The Wild Reeds

SVT

Enemies to lovers

Ahhhhhh omg ok. Since no member was specified im gonna just choose one :) Warnings: a bad kiss is discussed, also they do make out, lawyer!jeonghan and he's a menace as per usual

The annual best friends’ trip would be going much better if it weren’t for the presence of a certain attorney.

The first time you’d met Yoon Jeonghan had been during a dizzying cross-examination of your expert information in a high-profile criminal case. As a forensic speech-pattern analyst, you had taken your job as an expert witness to testify against an almost-certainly guilty extortionist very seriously, but Jeonghan had managed to twist every one of your facts to the advantage of the man, creating just enough reasonable doubt to get the man off with a slap on the wrist.

You had sworn to hate the handsome, smooth-talking defense attorney for as long as you lived -- so imagine your shock when your friend had brought him along with the group as her plus-one because her boyfriend couldn’t make it. As her cousin, and the closest male relative she had, he was more than happy to tag along, he’d said. 

And now you watch him across the room, schmoozing over your friends, unable to break it to them that he was the evil attorney that you’d complained about for weeks after the trial.

What was even worse about it was that he kept catching your eye from where he sat playing cards with your childhood friends, framed in the big windows like an angel wreathed in light, his fine features sly and knowing, more and more aggravating with every glance. You knew he remembered you by the way his eyes lit with recognition as they’d taken in all the faces in the spacious cabin. You groan internally -- this man must be your own personal demon, sent to torture you for some long-forgotten sin. And he just has to look good while doing it, doesn’t he?

“Hey, are you even listening to me?” your friend Seokmin says, suddenly.

“Oh!” you exclaim, turning back toward him with a sheepish look, but he’s grinning at you.

“You aren’t the only one staring at him,” he says. “Look at Juliette.”

Sure enough, your old college roommate is eyeing Jeonghan in interest. You know that look -- she’s going to do something she’ll probably regret later if she doesn’t get distracted soon. A part of you wonders why it always seems to be down to you to prevent disaster as you excuse yourself from Seokmin with a hurried excuse, making your way over to Juliette with a request for some snowshoeing in the newly-fallen snow outside.

But of course, the odds are not in your favor today. Jeonghan stands up, tossing in his cards after what you clock as his third poker win today. “I’d better quit while I’m ahead,” he says, and then looks up at you. “Did you say something about snowshoeing?”

Well, you can’t exactly lie to his face while all your friends are looking at you expectantly, so you give him a curt nod. “Can I come?” he asks, and there is an amused undertone to his voice that brings your already-hot temper to a boiling point.

Juliette answers first. “Of course!” she chirps, and you have no choice but to trudge into the mud room with them, your jaw set in a hard line and your eyes flashing. You suit up wordlessly while the other two make flirty conversation, somehow growing even more peeved as you listen to them. 

Finally, you’re walking out into the calm, quiet forest, the snowshoes keeping your boots from sinking into the deep layer of snow frosted over the ground. You find yourself trailing behind Jeonghan and Juliette, listening to them chatter happily together, for the entirety of the hike, only finding a brief moment of relief from the anger when you pause at an overlook. Here, white-dusted fir trees spill by the thousands down a steep incline that leads to a small valley, and the sun slowly sinking seems to light everything in a pinkish glow. It’s breathtaking. You can’t help but smile.

Except for when you turn and catch a glimpse of Jeonghan staring at you.

His expression is mirroring your own: complete awe, a dumbfounded smile, eyes wide as though afraid he won’t be able to take it all in. Except he’s not looking at the view — he’s looking at you.

Juliette notices and makes a lame excuse for why she needs to head back to the cabin, ignoring your protests and leaving you alone with Jeonghan. “You remember me, don’t you?” he asks instantly when she’s out of earshot. 

“Of course I do,” you say, bristling. “Liar.”

He chuckles, and you hate how cute he is when he’s laughing at you. “It’s actually ‘lawyer’, but that’s an easy mistake,” he says, unbothered by your venom.

“Look,” you say, trying to keep a moderate tone, “in case it wasn’t already clear, I really don’t like you.”

“Why not?” he asks innocently. “Because I’m good at my job?”

“Because you helped a guilty person escape justice!” you say loudly. A raven in a nearby tree takes off in fear.

His face seems to harden a little. “Tell me what you know about the defendant.”

This request takes you aback. “I don’t know anything about him,” you tell Jeonghan. “Other than his speech patterns and what they indicate.”

He looks at your face — seeming to debate with himself for a moment. Then he speaks. “He is the only caretaker for both his elderly mother, who is blind, and a young daughter still undergoing treatments for an aggressive cancer. The company he worked for was scamming its employees out of money, so he pulled a clever scam back and was able to make enough off of it to pay for his daughter to be treated at a top hospital and for his mother to have a seeing-eye dog. If he went to jail, where would they be?”

The information you’re receiving weighs on you heavily as you listen to him, and you feel your face burn with a guilty flush. “I had no idea.”

He nods shortly. “Not everything is as black-and-white as you think.”

He begins to walk away, back toward the cabin, and you have no choice but to follow him. As you enter the mud room again, stripping off your snow clothed and hanging them to dry, Jeonghan gives a soft chuckle. “Were you really that mad?”

“Yeah,” you admit, allowing him a small smile although your ego is still a bit bruised. “You made me sound like an idiot in court. I’m quite good at my job, you know.” You internally cringe at self. Why do you feel the need to justify yourself to him?

He nods in understanding. “I know you are. And you’re cute, too.”

This boldness shocks you into silence, and he gives a small giggle that almost undoes you.  “I wanted to talk to you after trial, but the look on your face was…”

“Radiant?” you say, recovering quickly with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, you were certainly radiating something,” he allows. “I was scared you’d bite me.”

You laugh. Time to play his game, you think. “I still haven’t ruled it out.” 

You saunter past him as his jaw drops, taking a seat beside Seokmin and letting out a deep sigh. There’s still a nagging tension in the air though, especially when Jeonghan stations himself across the room from you with his cousin and some other friends, only to meet eyes with you every few minutes with a sparkle of curiosity in his wide eyes.

As night falls, the lights dim. One by one, people start excusing themselves to go to bed, until it’s just a gaggle of you left, you and Jeonghan included. You keep expecting Jeonghan to get up and go to bed -- you noticed on the first night of the trip that he tires easily and usually is in bed earlier than the rest of your friends -- but he never does. Instead, the air gets thicker as Jeonghan moves next to you on the couch, as nonchalant as anything, and you feel your cheeks heating up. Eventually he turns to you as the others become engrossed in their own conversation.

“So, if you knew that today was the last day of your life —“

“Are you serious?” you groan. “I’m disappointed in you.”

He looks indignant and taken aback. “Well, I’m trying to get to know you,” he says defensively.

“Yeah, but you’re asking the manic-pixie-dreamboy questions,” you tell him. “Start with something normal, and then maybe I’ll tell you my hamartia or whatever.”

He bites his bottom lip. “Uh, okay. What made you want to be a speech pathologist?”

“That’s much better,” you commend him. “And I actually have a little brother who grew up with a speech impediment that made him difficult to understand, and I spent my whole childhood translating him for others. So I guess it was something I knew I could do. Plus it was interesting to know how to help similar kids.” 

Jeonghan nods. “I guess that makes sense.”

“What made you want to be a lawyer?” you shoot back.

His response is immediate. “I’m a master manipulator, and I wanted to make a lot of money. It seemed like the logical choice.”

You can’t help but laugh. “That’s the reddest red flag I’ve ever heard,” you say. “I should be running for the hills.”

“So why aren’t you?” he asks with a sly smile. 

“Must be colorblind,” you say dryly. “But it’s actually because master manipulators usually aren’t so upfront with their gifts.”

He grins. “Well, I really am good at … influencing people, to a degree. But I guess I became a criminal defense attorney to broaden my view on humanity. There are people I’ve represented in court that I would hate to be alone with, and yet somehow I’ve learned that they all have a level of humanity that would surprise most people. They weren’t all good people, but they were all still people. And I think that’s made me a better person overall.”

You grin to hide how impressed you are. “And the money is good too.”

He nods. “Well, obviously.”

This earns a giggle from you, and Jeonghan turns his body to face yours. For the next three hours, you talk about everything, even as the last of the stragglers disappear with tired farewells into their bedroom. Finally, it’s just you and Yoon Jeonghan, sitting at opposite ends of a broad brown couch, laughing about one of your awkward dating stories. 

“And after all that,” you say, wiping a tear of derision and amusement from your eye, “he has the nerve to kiss me!”

Jeonghan’s eyes go wide. “Did he ask first?” he asks. 

“Well, yeah,” you say.

“Why did you say yes?!” he groans through laughter. 

“I was so taken aback! And also, he was pretty hot,” you admit.

He looks at you skeptically. “If I asked you a question, would you answer honestly?”

“Depends on the question.”

“Give me just this one,” he pleads.

“Okay,” you say, giving in easily at the sight of his puppy eyes.

“Was he hotter than me?” he asks.

Your jaw drops. “Yoon Jeonghan.”

“You said you’d answer the question honestly,” he reminds you.

You begrudgingly consider him. “You’re hotter,” you finally answer, glad he probably can’t see you blush in this low light.

He nods, satisfied. “Okay, go on. What happened next?”

You laugh at the nonchalant way he’s handled this news. “Oh, he was a terrible kisser. All of those looks just for him to have no sensitivity at all. Jammed his tongue down my throat and everything.”

“You should’ve told him no,” he says quietly, moving almost imperceptibly closer.

“I really should’ve. Anyway, that was actually the most recent kiss I’ve had, so my experiences with kissing are all being viewed through that lens, and it’s kind of ruined for me now.” You make a face as you remember the date, and the associated kiss. By the time your shudder brings you back down to earth, Jeonghan has moved just one inch closer on the couch. You pretend not to notice.

He pins you with his gaze, though. “Are you being coy on purpose?” he asks through narrowed eyes, making another small move in your direction.

“What do you mean?” you ask him, suddenly nervous.

“We’re alone, and you openly admitted I’m hotter than the last guy you kissed --”

“After you coerced me into telling you,” you interject, amused.

“And now you’re talking about how bad he was at kissing,” Jeonghan finishes, undeterred. “Tell me what kind of conclusion I’m supposed to draw from that.” And with that, he closes the gap between you, moving so close that your thighs are touching.

You look into his eyes. This was a plot twist you didn’t see coming -- you hadn’t been able to figure out why he’d stuck around when everyone started going to bed, but his reasons for doing so were becoming more and more clear, and although you woke up this morning as his sworn enemy, you have a feeling that everything has changed.

So you stare, wanting to fall, but also wanting to stay in this moment, right here, contemplating the risk. Maybe you’ve got it wrong -- it’s certainly possible. But maybe, just maybe, you’ve run out of options for things to say, leaving just the one thought you had when he’d moved closer and asked you to tell him what to think.

“Well, you’re the lawyer,” you finally answer, barely above a soft whisper. “Figure it out.”

You catch a hint of a smile before Jeonghan’s hands are reaching up to cradle your face, bringing your lips gently, but ever so insistently, to his own. 

His lips are soft and light on your own, a massive upgrade from the clumsy kisses of whoever had come before. You can’t remember that man, nor anyone else, for that matter. You barely register the feeling of the coarse couch cushions beneath you, sinking under your combined weight as Jeonghan pulls you onto his lap to continue the kiss. The light brush of his tongue over your bottom lip has you reaching for him hungrily, pulling him closer to you so you can feel his heart beating against your own.

It takes a particularly loud squeak from the couch for the both of you to realize how loud you were being. You both freeze and look at the stairs, terrified that one of your friends has caught you, before you both realize and explode into quiet giggles, pressing your foreheads together.

“Do you want to sleep in my room tonight?” you ask him breathlessly.

“I could never fall asleep with you in the same room as me,” he replies with a wicked grin.

[proxylynn]

Let's talk about the hullabaloo with the new HelluvaBoss episode.

[I am loving the discourse going on in the fandom about the new episode and gender fuckery...or so some are going off about.

I'll mention this one because it's hardly a thing. Andrealphus is gay. No biggie. Some are being weird saying him calling his sister hot is a sign he's not gay, but...Have they never had a sibling do this? "Looking good, sis!" "Bro, you're looking sharp today." I'm also gonna nip this in the butt, no, complimenting your sibling doesn't imply incest, not everything is Game of Thrones. But let's look at the context of when Andrealphus says this. He "compliments" Stella when annoyed and when tries to sway her. She's not bright. He knows this. This is why he says she's lucky she's attractive because he's insinuating it's all she's useful as. A pretty face. Because even his sister is a pawn for his own goals, that should be obvious by now since he's willing to play Octavia (his niece) as a means to an end in his goal for power. This has nothing to do with his sexuality. It never was. He's just a condescending manipulative prick.

Now with that out of the way, onto the main point of contention. Let's talk about Mammon and the confusion that's going on with him being Ace yet making a pass at Leviathan. HE'S STILL FUCKING ACE! I'm Ace. I'm married. I love my husband. Does this mean I'm not Ace? NO! Because Ace is a fucking spectrum and not a clear-cut label that means you are this and this only! Even the most basic definition of Ace is "experience little to no sexual attraction to others". Notice how it says "little to no" and not outright saying no? Yeah, because Aces can still feel shit! A simple Google search isn't so hard to do.

Spectrum: Asexuality exists on a spectrum, and people may experience no, little, or conditional sexual attraction. 

Identity: Asexuality is a sexual orientation and identity, not a medical condition. 

Romantic attraction: Asexual people may still experience romantic attraction. Many asexual people identify as aromantic, meaning they don't experience romantic attraction. 

Celibacy: Asexuality is different from celibacy, which is the choice to not engage in sexual behaviors. 

Health: Asexuality is valid, and many healthy people identify as asexual. 

Some other terms related to asexuality include:

Allosexual: The opposite of asexual, referring to people who experience sexual attraction

Gray asexual: Also called graysexual or gray ace, this term refers to people who fall somewhere between asexuality and allosexuality

Demisexual: People who only experience sexual attraction after forming a close emotional bond with someone

Mammon can still be Ace and flirt. It doesn't make him any less Ace. I'll even take this further. Let's think of this within the context of what we know of Mammon in the episodes connected to him. He had Fizzarolli as his star and needed robotic know-how to not only fix him but also produce the Fizzies. What Sin has this knowledge? Ozzie. As the greedy manipulative businessman he is, he likely schmoozed Ozzie to get on his good side and made it easier to dig his grubby hands into any deal he could sneak out of Ozzie (something he had to work hard to do given how much Ozzie hates Mamms today). Now let's look at things now. Fizzie isn't his star anymore. The Glam Sisters are. And they are very obviously from the Evny Ring. And who runs the Envy Ring? That's right, it's our girls', Leviathan. Now knowing this, doesn't it make sense for him to make a move on them? YES! And it was working too! The lighter head was so digging his rizz (let's be real, Aces just have high charm stats which is why so many want to bang them...Looking at you Alastor simps, I feel you) but the dark head ain't vibing and moved them away. I think he still has a shot of scoring some sort of arrangement that he will no doubt worm into being massively leaning toward his benefits. He does seem to be spreading his influence into all the Rings and he has no issues taking resources in the pursuit of profit. He is doing what his instincts tell him to do to gain the system in his favor and his alone. Look at how he managed to dick over Lucifer, Mammon won the court case to rip off a Pride Ring exclusive thing. He can and will fuck over other Sins/nobles/and royals to get what he wants. This man is a bloody legend with balls of steel!

So yeah. This was my long somewhat rant on why this is ridiculous. Thank you for reading and have a good day/night.]

[animentality]

I like to think Gortash fantasizes maybe once or a couple times a day about murdering Orin, because she gets on his nerves but also because he loved Durge, for what she did to his love, she deserves murder but he can't, for the plan.

Honestly I'm not sure if he even knew Orin had murdered dark urge.

He must've assumed so, because nothing short of murder would've forced the dark urge away, but it probably ate at him, wondering where the dark urge had gone.

Not just because he hates orin, although that doesn't help, but because he seems to genuinely like the dark urge.

He probably wondered at night if she'd killed them quickly or tortured them or if maybe they were still alive but imprisoned somewhere in the creepy Bhaal basement.

See I know that Gortash is a tyrannical psychopath with questionable allegiances, but his weird warmth towards the dark urge is just so questionable.

I know he's a schmoozing, two faced, scheming politician, but there's no fucking way that would've worked on Murder Murder Death Child, who kills for fun and profit and is honestly a religious zealot nutcase.

Like can you fucking imagine, trying to butter up a guy who'll cut into you like fucking butter with no hesitation?

I just don't think it was an act.

There is no REASON for him to be so warm to dark urge when they re-meet, like do you really think he would take on a persona of warmth with the child of the god of murder?

The person he hatched his ingenious political plans with?

If they were just business colleagues, I just know that the dark urge and gortash would not pretend to like each other. Why bother, right?

Gortash doesn't care for Orin or Ketheric and he makes that very clear.

But you he's practically showering in praises and roses, with stars in his eyes.

Plus all the chosen three know that the other two want to eventually betray them.

So there's no reason for Gortash to be so warm to you, not unless you think he just instantly clocked that New Dark Urge is the kind of person to like the politician act.

But he genuinely was happy to see the dark urge before he'd even confirmed that dark urge's memories were gone.

PLUS.

Dark Urge is a crazy person, who wrote a fucking letter to their GOD, begging for his forgiveness for their admiration for Gortash.

That's really just proof to me that the feelings were mutual.

They had a genuinely positive relationship.

Perhaps the only good relationship those two scheming bitches have ever had.

And that's why I'm sick in the head about them.

They just have so much potential and they literally only have like one scene and a bunch of letters to confirm it, but I don't care.

I'm drowning on this sinking ship.

I also wanna say that when you read his mind... he is ok with sharing power with you???

Like I know some people say well eventually he'd betray you, but...but I don't know about that.

Dark Urge made Gortash a team player.

He was being real with you. Maybe it would've changed in the future but he seems to genuinely want to rule the world with you, because the plan would not have been possible without you.

He loved the dark urge, your honor.

I'll hear no other cases.

You're so right that he hated orin's fucking guts.

But worse was that he genuinely didn't know what happened to the dark urge and I know it bothered him.

I just know it.