#and they really seem to think its true! they genuinely believe that they can turn it around and make it good! it's not an act!

[bitchthefuck1]

Rewatching succession it really is wild to see Kendall and Shiv convince themselves over and over again that they can "fix ATN/Waystar from the inside" only to completely abandon their morals the minute it gives them a strategic advantage.

When they're on the outside it's an endless diatribe about how evil and rotten the company is to its core, but the second they get the slightest whiff of power they suddenly decide the problems are actually really manageable and that with the right leadership it could be a force for good, and like...the saddest part is that they genuinely seem to believe that.

[aklaustaleteller]

hey can you do one where the reader kind off changed klaus for the better he quit most of the killing shit a ultimately became a better person over all, and the news was all over that klaus mikealson had gone soft, so one of his (many) enemies decides to kidnap or hurt the reader as they think he had gone soft and he goes all hybrid on everyone to remind them of what he is capable off

Vontade

Y/n and Klaus had settled in the English Countryside, living in an isolated mansion that was settled under thick mist on most days. But what happens when Klaus leaves for a little, and things take a sinister turn for Y/n?

Warnings - I'm not joking when I say I have a list (right here). I'm begging on you on my knees -- please read the list before diving into the fic!!

Word Count - 10.2k (don't ask me about it)

Masterlist | please reblog the fic if you like it!

EVERYONE CALM DOWN THE OCTOBER FIC IS FINALLY HERE!!! Wait let me calm down first. It's been so very long but I hope you guys will find the wait worth it!! This is the longest fic I've ever written, and probably the darkest too! The amount of research that went into this is mind boggling but anyways, I really really really hope you enjoy your time reading!! (the fic is divided into 2 parts, both of which are in this post itself!)

Thank you, anon, for requesting this and waiting so long! I might've taken a completely different route than what you asked for but I hope you won't mind too much <3

And I'm so sorry if I raised anyone's expectations too much!! If there one thing you should know about me, it's that I'm a disappointment. So expect the worst, thank you!

And please, please, please share your thoughts with me -- give feedback and reblog! It'll genuinely increase my life span ajshfjjakgds. (If you hate this fic, don't tell me I'm faint hearted, okay? okay.)

Holding the curtains to the side, Klaus gazed out of the window, the ghosts of the past not so visible anymore in the heavy mist that sat upon the empty acres of land that held nothing but dead grass as well as the dead, gone and buried.

It was so early in the morning that it felt like early winter, and the moon was still visible, looking so soft that its sight took all the weight of grief off the watcher's heart.

The collar of his cotton shirt ruffled as a gust of wind passed him by and touched the cold skin of his wife who lay in bed, gazing at him with the tired eyes that didn't catch a blink of sleep in the centuries that they have shown her the terrors and the romanticised of the world.

He smiled, already turning to walk over to her side of the bed. He knelt on the hardwood floor, ignoring it's creaking as he leaned in to press a kiss to her ear lobe, one that chased her mouth.

More of the wind rushed inside the room but neither of them paid much mind to it, for the cold didn't bother them much. Y/n kissed him back, giggling because it seemed that his mouth was eager to wander to places that might be more sinful than the true existence of their kind.

"When do you have to leave?" Y/n asked, breathless as Klaus intertwined his fingers with hers, and saddened because of the inevitable.

"In a few hours," Klaus suggested as he raised the skirt of her night gown while he himself slipped lower and lower until Y/n had to raise the sheets with her hand to look into his eyes as he bit into her thigh close enough to her heat to make her eyes to roll into the back of her skull.

Her palm traced the valleys of his face, feeling the highs and the lows to keep herself from transcending somewhere else while his mouth traced and lapped at her sweetness that was mentioned instead as poison in one of the books that she'd read in some of her earlier days.

"Klaus," she heaved his name as he quickened his pace, his eyes boring into hers, putting on a veil of innocence that they had lost even before they'd been first witness to the world.

Y/n believed that she'd lost her innocence the moment her mother had died while giving birth to her.

Air escaped her lungs all at once as she felt herself release and her hands clutched the unruly curls on the top of Klaus' head. Her hips lifted off the bed, meeting and escaping his mouth at the same time while a certain kind of dizziness took over her, making her feel like a leaf drifting slowly and slowly, off the tree, towards the earth.

Her mouth instinctively kissed back his lips, and she turned the two of them, so she was sitting on top of him. A grin took over her mouth, her eyes crinkling on the corners as she kissed up his chest and wandered off with her trail sideways.

Y/n inhaled softly and deeply upon his neck, sinking her cunning teeth into his hardened skin until she felt some warmth gush into her mouth. His blood coated her tongue like a thick syrup, sweet and addictive.

She sucked and more of it came flowing. In fact, so much of it came that she felt some slipping down the corners of her mouth. So, she backed away, licking the edges of her mouth with her head thrown back, letting the air fill her lungs and kick back in her senses.

The soft caress of Klaus' hand on the back of her head made her look down again, at his face that had her saying she knew what an angel looks like.

The black oblivion in his eyes that promised her a soulmate to spend the rest of eternity with sucked her in. Soon she was turning into corner after corner in a labyrinth, beginning to race in the fear that she was being chased until she found herself leaning against a wall while Klaus pulled on the laces of her corset, pulling hard enough to make Y/n suspicious that he just intended to pull her into him.

She looked into the mirror and caught a glimpse of his smirk, squinting at him when he met her gaze in their reflection.

"I really wish you could accompany me on the ride to the masquerade," she whispered, closing her eyes when she felt his fingers tap their way to the clasp of her necklace and lock it properly.

"I am your escort at the ball, love," he sighed, kissing the back of her head. "Have trust in me, you'll be fine," he murmured against her hair, smelling the faint scent of white Lilies and apples.

Far from the smell of the decaying bodies that he'd have to pass on his way to the city of New Orleans in a short while, though.

Y/n shut her eyes, wanting to protest that nothing when she's left behind, all on her own, stays fine. Instead, she gave a tight nod and turned to cup his face in her palms.

"Miss me," she grinned against the deep maroon of his lips, her laugh echoing when he kissed her passionately. And then she sighed, feeling the silage, her hand tracing the impression made in space where Klaus was once standing; now gone.

Sighing, she trailed down the stairs noiselessly -- it was an art she'd perfected during her time in the isolated estate.

She lit a lantern because despite it being daytime, not even a ray of light fell to the dead ground through the heavy fog that seemed to have settled on their property overnight.

Y/n shook her head, forcing herself to get out of her head and to fix the ragged rhythm of her breathing. While at that, she noticed a cobweb in the corner of the ceiling, instantly making a mental note to get Klaus to clean it up. She'd never felt an attachment to the spiders, though she respected their talent of weaving so masterfully and passionately.

Not enough to not ruin their work, though.

With faintly trembling hands, she picked the lantern off the dining table that could host an entire committee. She turned to walk back over to the main door, eyes settled on the minute details carved into the mansion's main door frame.

Forgetting the keys on the hook screwed to the wall, she looked closely, like she did every single day in the hopes of finding something new. Something tugged at the corner of her mouth when she caught a rose with a dagger stabbed through its middle, designed intricately into the door’s handle.

Smiling in satisfaction, she backed away and – the keys were gone. Y/n had seen them hung on the corner-most hook out the five, but now all of them were empty.

"The house spirits don't want you to leave," whispered her grandmother.

Y/n's head snapped to her side, the door was closed, the air still.

"Leave out some honey for them, perhaps, you can negotiate," she chuckled dryly, and Y/n scrambled to do as told before something more precious was taken from her; even though her grandmother has been dead for centuries and only talks to her when she's alone.

Almost dropping the plate in her hurry, Y/n slid the honey filled utensil in the middle of the table before rushing out of the door.

She exhaled sharply, almost choking on her own saliva as she raced away from the mansion, unable to calm herself down as the image of the keys hung on the hook right before she shut the door with her eyes widened in fear, flashed across her mind.

Klaus had only been away for a half an hour and already things were beginning to take a sinister turn. She took a shuddering breath, forcing her mind to focus on Klaus so that the stone inside her chest doesn't burst into a million tiny shards and she ends up dead because of a thousand cuts.

She brought up the lantern to her eyesight and sighed -- the flame had gone out somewhere amidst her rush.

But she had been in the woods before, she knew her way like the patterns in Klaus' hair. Smiling to manipulate herself, she strolled forward, eyes settled on the trees.

The acres of land on which the mansion stood like a ship on ocean waves, was tucked away under the thick fog when Y/n turned around to see it. But even in the dark blurriness, Y/n saw the tiny flowers dotted throughout the open fields. They were going to die soon, she sighed and walked on.

Then she began to run to catch a leaf that the wind plucked off of a tree.

Some dead, some changing colours, some still green while others had already transitioned into shades of orange or brown. All of the trees would all be lifeless soon, with no leaves or flowers on them, and Y/n will once again find comfort in the death that will encapsulate everything around her.

Maybe eat some of the pomegranates off the trees that will still be bearing some happiness in order to taunt her existence.

Far away in the distant, Y/n could see more huge estates. They seemed abandoned, worn, lived in by ghouls and frustrated spirits. She wondered if sprites and pixies ever giggled away nights in the unkempt properties, but she stole her gaze from the architectures before they could lure her in.

To spend her time alone feeling as normal as she could, she began to think of the love of her life, of Klaus and of how they came to be. And it began something like this...

It was the year 1047 in Russia, and the colour in Y/n's face had settled so deep that there was no life left in her skin.

She traced her cheeks, eyes widely aghast as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. There was nothing under her skin, except for an unsettling silence. There was no rush of blood, or thrumming of her anxious heart so loud in her ears that she felt like she was going to die, instead of smiling at the reminder that she was still alive.

She wished now though, that she had celebrated when her heartbeats came to stutters because she couldn't breathe. Because now, as she tried to find a pulse, she slipped her hand from her neck to the skirts of her gown.

There was nothing in her to prove that she wasn't a living corpse. Her skin was cold, hardened and ridden of all colours.

This couldn't have been. She wasn't a human anymore, and the more she saw of herself, the more rumours about Vampires echoed in her mind. If she was a vampire, then she quickly needed to find another one to survive. And she needed to flee town in order to escape her father, who would probably not even realise her absence in the misery of remembering her late mother.

So, with erratic breathing, she'd rushed back to her room and pulled out the one big handbag she had. She threw in as much as she could, including a large shawl, her night clothes, her warm woollen as well as her silk hood. She rolled two of her dresses somehow to fit, and ran to steal a bottle of her father's brandy and some camphor. He wouldn't know until he would run out of his current bottle, and Y/n won't be there to blame or to conspire with then.

Chanting under her breath for God's mercy, she ran into her bathroom and gathered all of her essentials such as tooth and nail brushes, soap, hairbrush, hairpins, her handy mirror and a towel off the hook.

Hungry because of her state of extreme breathlessness and panic, she packed some crackers and the sandwiches she had made earlier in her lunch and closed the chain of the bag. It was going to be hard to run with it on her arm, but she knew that what would be more hard was death.

She was going to be seen as the thing at the feast or at the sacrifice, and then, she wasn't even going to be seen because people would either burn her or bury her alive. And there was a possibility that she could take one wrong step, and the rumour that was a vampire's existence, would become more of a reality – which would lead to mass murder, of the hiding vampires and likely some innocents who had done no wrong in life but suffer at the hands of it.

She ran through the streets in the middle of the day, where everyone was too busy or too ignorant to be concerned about her. Her house was fairly close to the state of Kievan Rus' and she cried tears of joy for God's blessing as she ran, surprisingly not out of breath.

She ran with the wind throughout the day and night, as silently as she could, not wanting to draw any attention until she reached her destination. And it was on the third morning that she finally came to a stop on the land of Kyiv Koenugarr, the capital of the state that stood on the Dnieper River, the one that flowed to the Black Sea.

For the first time in three days, she smiled. Her breaths came to a faint pace as she stopped by in one of the guest houses to clean up. She knew that she needed to look good enough to convince the one person she had hoped in her heart would help her escape.

She didn't need to rest to get even a blink of sleep, but just out of old habit, she lay down on the soft bedding and shut her eyes to stop the racing of her mind. She could think when she wasn't so much on the edge regarding the fact that she didn't even feel burnt out after so much.

The corners of her eyes moistened as she realised that she wouldn't be missed back home. Maybe the little boy who lived next door would be saddened, but he would forget her too. He was too small to remember disappearance, Y/n hoped. She should have said goodbye to him at least, but maybe that was supposed to be her life's regret.

When the sun came back up, Y/n pulled out the one dress she had laid under the mattress during the night in hopes of getting it a bit decent and dressed herself. She put colour on her mouth and on her cheeks, and kohl on her eyelashes while hinting some of it on the line above.

She needed to look good for this, in case she had to do some convincing or begging. She hoped that she could just threaten, but she wouldn't do that to him who she essentially considered her brother.

She rubbed the one herbal mixture that she had on herself in some places and the fragrance of Saffron, Rosemary and Musk hit her senses all at once. Centering herself, she packed her bag again and began her stroll to find a cart, to where she knew he would be.

"I need to go to the docks!" She shouted over the harsh wind at the man, and he urged her to climb into the cart. "Thank you," she said now that she was behind him.

He nodded and began to move forward, going faster with the help of the forceful wind. It didn't seem like the man minded silence too much, so she kept quiet much to her liking and began an inner monologue to decide how she was going to ask him.

The time passed quicker than she could come to a conclusion though, so she stepped off and handed the man a kuna with a gentle nod for a thank you. She hoped she could find a mirror to maybe fix her hair a bit but she was found too soon for that convenience.

"And what in the world are you doing here?"

He asked, a frown and a smile adorning his features at the same time.

Happiness surged through her body like a gust of wind at seeing his face. It felt like he'd almost lifted her spirits.

"Nikolai!"

She rushed over to him, wrapping her arms around him as tightly as she could. She giggled when he began to swerve the two of them from side to side.

"You're clearly here for a reason so how about you tell me before I set off?" He said, nodding his head towards the awaiting ship.

A worry settled deep in her stomach. She began fidgeting.

"Will you take me with you?" She asked in a whisper because she knew how absurd this might sound to him.

He gripped her shoulders a little tighter.

"The ships are full of Vikings, Y/n. Don't be a fool," he gritted, his fingers leaving a wrinkle on the puff of her dress' sleave.

"But you are going to be with me, so I'll be fine!" She insisted.

Nikolai pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.

Sighing, he began, "why do you want to go to Europe all of a sudden?"

She swallowed. "To start over, you know? And it sounds nice over there, a change would be good," she shrugged.

Y/n knew that he could sense her lying but when he didn't press her about it, she took a breath of relief.

Nikolai turned to walk, but just because of her nature, she gripped his arm from behind.

When he turned with intrigue, and saw worry settled in her big eyes, he hugged her again.

"I'll take care of you like my little sister, Solnishko (sunshine)," he whispered against her hair, and Y/n shut her eyes to force herself calm down. She had known him since her childhood, and she knew deep down that she trusted him more than she trusted her own father.

Backing away a couple steps, she let him take her bag from her hand. Squaring her shoulders, Y/n nodded, which Nikolai copied.

They shared a glint of excitement and nervousness in their gazes and passed each other a wide grin before making a run for the ship that was going to leave any minute now.

Y/n hadn't realised that while deep in her memory, she had come to a halt in front of the frozen lake. So when she heard the crunch of leaves, while she stood alone and completely still, her head whipped to scan her surroundings.

No one, in sight. Y/n knew better than to not trust her intuition so she focused in on all of her senses, there was no smell of blood, no sound of a beating heart, no sight of anyone, no feeling other than of being watched and nothing to touch but her own cold skin.

It had to be a vampire, if anyone.

With an unease, she started on her walk back home. She knew she could face whoever it was and get it over within seconds. But when she reached home unharmed, she felt like she might've just been going insane since she was alone.

She felt insane a lot of the time that she was alone, so with frustration settling deep in her belly, she went over to the room that she had locked the entire oblivion in. The library room.

Most of the books were read there, but when Klaus returned from his entrepreneurial ventures, he always brought back with him some new ones that he just had an instinct she was going to love. And she did mostly end up loving the stories so much that it felt as if they’d claimed a part of her – she'd never tell that to Klaus though, since he might just destroy all literature in the mansion in order to keep her all to himself.

Her eyes glanced at the two stopped clocks in the room and she shook her head because of the reminder that they might as well be haunted since she can't get them to work right for more than two sunsets.

As she sank in the deep green sofa with a worn hardback in her lap, a deep melancholy took over her. Her body felt so weak to the bones that it could've decomposed right there on the expensive furniture.

Suddenly, her grandmother, dressed in all black appeared at the doorway of the room. Y/n thought she had closed the door behind her.

The old woman walked in like she was silently praying on a child in a game to catch her, and stopped right in front of Y/n whose eyes felt hooded and a little too heavy. She took her hand and dropped something from her fist into her open palm.

Y/n brought it back to see for herself, and a gurgling sound escaped from her throat. She choked back on her saliva as the word 'MONSTER' was beginning to slowly be engraved in her palm, the inscription cutting her skin so deep that she fell off the sofa in pain, gripping her hand tightly as she tried to escape, and ended up falling on her bed.

With heavy breaths wreaking havoc inside her lungs, Y/n wiped the cold sweat on her skin on the bed sheets as she turned to lie on Klaus' side of bed. Inhaling deeply, she kept her eyes shut while her entire body shook in tremors and her mind began to show her the flashes of her sweet, well cherished moments spent with her head tucked away in Klaus' chest.

She really wished she could have a drop of his blood, then. Saliva pooled on her tongue, but she swallowed thickly, not allowing herself even the thought of taking a sip from the bottle that he always left behind for her.

—--

It was the 18th century, and Y/n didn't know quite know how to feel when the Pope declared her species as fallacious fictions of humankind. She had sighed deeply, breathing out the tension in her frame as she prepared herself to live a life without chewing her fingers ever again – not because people had potentially known of Vampire's existence, but because she was too paranoid to not fear somehow getting wound up in the theories and be burned on the stake only for her ashes to be fed to some sick family man considered bitten by a vampire.

But she'd also felt her lifeless heart be struck by sadness upon the realisation that she might not ever be accepted by anyone apart from her own species -- who had the foul habit of keeping itself so secretive that Y/n began feeling lonely even in a room full of people.

Then the 19th century rolled around, arguably the worst time period for a human to be alive according to Y/n. She seemed to have a realisation that if this century was going to be associated with one thing, it would be diseases and deaths.

Everyone in the town was always sick and someone was dying each hour. The ones who weren't actively dying, were so obsessed with the notion of death they essentially manifested it in their fate.

Tired of the ongoing death streak, Y/n ran away to the English Countryside. But because she was too lonely and had too much of the torturous time on her hands, she began to despise the fact that she was never going to have the peace that came with death, with the end – ever.

Feeling like she was going to kill herself if she spent another fleeting second in her own company, she found herself back in the main city, preoccupying herself among the aristocrats.

Then years later, the last Vampire Scare occurred in the late 19th century. While people weren't quick to put labels, the town affairs spread in whispers sounding similar to the fluttering wings of a Goldfinch.

But then, when the horrors of Vampires finally bit the dust, being declared as nothing but a myth blew out the one final flicker of hope inside Y/n's chest that longed for connections where the humans would tell her about their history and their folklores themselves instead of her having to read their biassed books in which they painted a portrait using their best colours.

No matter how much she hated being a myth, Y/n loved reading stories about the blood-sucking Roman vampires, and the German Nachzehrer, who harmed the living through "sympathetic magic" from afar.

Y/n loved to debate with Klaus just like humans did with each other, upon who were the English Vampires most like -- The Romanians or The Germans. All because it seemed to be a hot topic among the historians, folklorists, theologists and who not, that like Romanians, New Englanders "were looking for liquid blood in the vital organs, not evidence of shroud chewing." The anti-vampire remedy of "cutting the heart out, burning it to ashes and feeding the ashes to the sick ones" was also something that was practiced in Romania.

But what quite disgusted Y/n was the fact that the sole reason humans even knew of Vampires was because they were brainless and attracted diseases like flowers honey bees during springtime; and also because they feared the said diseases and desired to have control over it in some way, or at least to feel like they did.

Since then, whenever a new resurgence of ‘Vampires are real’ rumours flowed, Y/n chose to ignore it. Because in the current day and age, the resurfacing of the supernatural was simply because of its glorification and romanticisation in the literature; and of course, just an human’s itch to dig into the past.

—--

The music echoed throughout the mansion as Y/n's fingers danced across the keys of the grand piano. There weren't any notes sitting on top for Y/n to read from, she was simply playing what she'd known and what was coming to her as she played.

Moonlight poured in through barred windows that stood on the grounds and touched the ceilings. Something in the back of her mind was telling her that someone was watching her, but she ignored the warning sign, tired of her hallucinations and tired of trying to decipher between what was real and what wasn't.

Her own mind playing tricks on her wasn't something she dealt with very well. It felt like a betrayal, by whom, she couldn't tell. But it was unfair, that not everyone had to constantly decipher their experiences as real or not.

In the moment, all she knew was that as long as the music was flowing and she was hitting the notes remarkably well, she and everything surrounding her was real. Though she'd been told that her playing could bring the dead back, she tried not to think about it.

Frustrated because of the nagging thought of having a watcher, Y/n wondered if the pressing of her fingers on the keys will ever not be soothing for her. Gradually, she felt something rushing within her, something taking over her senses as the sounds hit the tall walls and reverberated back into her ears with violent vibrations that she hated to feel – she felt overcome.

Her fingers started to move on their own, quickening the pace when she reached the beat drop and realised, the answer was yes.

She pulled herself back from the grand piano like it had electrocuted her. Wild eyes and frantic breathing, Y/n waited for the silence to settle and encapsulate her.

Standing up, she took hold of the candelabra that had been sitting on the top of the piano, and climbed up the stairs in the candle's unreliable, flickering light. There was no light in this part of the mansion, the moonlight didn't reach in the back and Y/n felt a breath down her spine as she opened the library room's door.

She didn't walk in right away though. She spared a wry glance to her right, at the other room’s door that was locked. It was night time and she didn't want to be flooded with the horrifying memories of her past that was withheld in that room. But still, the images of Klaus draining bodies in that very room flashed in front of her eyes – causing her to clench them shut and skip inside the library without a second thought.

Picking up the book she'd dropped on the floor earlier, she shut the door quietly and held the skirts of her dress in order to make a run towards the master bedroom. She felt safe in the company of the candle's flame that hadn't gone out in her hurry and she sat in her bed, no longer scared and no longer around; transported into a realm where she was a little human girl skidding through the forest wearing a red cloak, on the way to her grandmother's home when she comes across a sly wolf!

—--

Y/n was standing just outside the door, hiding behind the wall with a cloth to her mouth. Sobs threatened to leave her mouth similarly to how the tears were escaping her eyes, sliding down her cheeks and falling into pools on the ancient flooring.

Sounds of mouths biting into necks, tearing through skin and splintering bones echoed through the chambers. The halls of the mansion were built like those of Cathedrals, tall in order to make a sound boom and echo.

She clenched her eyes shut when another body fell to the ground, lifeless. Daring to peek inside despite her fragile heart, Y/n's mouth fell open as the scene unfolded in front of her.

Klaus was sitting on the one and only chair in the room, looking nothing less than a king sitting on his throne. In front of him, the rest of the hall was full of vampires – sucking on each other.

Some had bitten into another's wrist while they were being fed upon at their neck. Every single soulless body standing in the room had its teeth bared, looking for a life to take whilst theirs was already being drained away by one of their own.

"Faster!" Klaus roared and everyone began to draw blood from one another as if their life depended on it.

Which it did according to what Y/n heard next.

"Remember puppies, if you wish to live, you'll have to drain as many bodies as you can!" He spoke loudly, a wide malicious grin on his mouth.

Y/n sank low upon the grounds, frozen until her eyes met with one of the vampires.

A blood-curdling scream escaped her throat and Y/n felt like all of the blood was rushing to her head. She clutched it, lowering further into the ground in hopes of diminishing the pain but her vision began to fade instead.

She saw Klaus watching her, held for ransom by fate as Y/n fell to the ground, her last sight being of the vampires still feeding like they were at a feast.

When she woke up, Klaus was sitting at the foot of the bed. A book in his hands but not a word was he able to utter when she asked him what the book was about.

He shut it and tossed it across the bed, holding the bridge of his nose as Y/n looked at him through hooded eyes.

"I asked you of one thing," he began. "I asked you not to walk by the room until dusk."

His teeth were clenched, and Y/n could tell by the waver in his voice that he was trying with all of his might to not smash the furniture in the room.

She hoped that he would keep trying, that she wouldn't have to see the black in his eyes represent the devil rather than the peaceful oblivion she saw in them because she wanted to spend it with him.

"Then why, tell me love, were you there?"

"Don't talk to me like I'm a child," Y/n croaked out, stealing her gaze from him to look away.

"But what you did was childish!"

"And you were a monster!" Y/n shouted, now sitting up in the bed with her fists clenching the mattress.

Klaus stood still for a moment, then scoffed.

"I'm the monster?" He asked, his voice so light it sent a wave of regret through Y/n's chest.

"Klaus --"

"No, Y/n," Klaus swallowed, now pacing across the room. "They tried to steal you from me and I'm the one being called the monster for doing to them little of what they deserve for the horror they put you through."

"Klaus, you didn't need to take the blood on your hands. I would've taken my revenge, and you know that," Y/n said.

"Alright then. Fair enough," nodding, Klaus came to a halt. "Let's put it this way – I took my revenge because I love you and I thought I lost you. That thought pained me to the point of no comparison so I took my revenge," he shrugged.

"If you desire, you can take your revenge. I'm sure they are still alive with the speed that they seemed to have lost," Klaus gestured back towards the room.

Y/n clenched her eyes shut. "Lock the room, Klaus," she asked him.

With a faint nod of acceptance, Klaus locked the door to the room where most of the vampires had fallen to the floor, dead. The last ones sucking raced when they saw Klaus and fell to the floor with a thump once the last drop of blood was drunk from their bodies.

Drawing the doors shut, Klaus put a humongous lock on the door and took a step back. He knew what Y/n was going to ask of him when he 'd return, so with a final breath, Klaus decided that among those vampires, Klaus had also locked his own demons inside.

Y/n's head rose when she saw him stroll back into the master bedroom.

"Promise me that you'll never take a life ever again," she whispered.

Klaus nodded, looking into her eyes with honesty so bright it could've blinded her.

"And if you do, do it after you take mine," Y/n spoke stiffly. "Or I'll take yours."

Klaus dropped to his knees beside her side of the bed to hold her hand.

"You have my word," he spoke hoarsely, leaning in just enough that Y/n had to come the rest of the way to meet his mouth.

"I love you," she whispered against his mouth. "I cannot lose you to your demons."

"I love you, too,” Klaus said, stopping when his voice wavered. “And you know that you are my only reason," he smiled, letting her push him back on the bed.

—--

Y/n woke up with excitement fluttering through her entire being. It was brighter than the previous day, she noticed. But all of the mist was still sitting around so Y/n drew her curtains apart and opened the windows.

The cold wind carried with it the smell of pomegranate flowers, making Y/n smile.

Squaring her shoulders, she looked into the void outside, wishing Klaus was beside her to experience the beauty of dragonflies dancing around on top of the flowers sprinkled throughout the fields.

Orange and red scenery was not unmet by her eyes when she squinted. A lot of the trees had turned now, and Y/n wondered why they decided to turn just a little earlier than usual.

She wrapped herself in her robe and walked throughout the house, opening all the windows and drawing curtains to let the light pour in. She felt calm, especially since the past couple of days had been extraordinarily troublesome for her.

Back in her library room, Y/n picked up the neat letter that had been sitting on her desk. It was the letter of the ball invitation sent via the Salvatore Sons, and Y/n was more than giddy to finally meet Klaus there.

Most humble citizens of the realm, You are hereby requested to attend a masquerade ball in honour of the thirtieth marriage anniversary of our dearest Lilian Salvatore and Guiseppe Salvatore, the radiant couple -- also respected members of the founder's council of Mystic Falls. Costumes and masks will be strictly required for entry, and each couple must bring a gift. This sophisticated affair will be a tantalising and stylish celebration with a feast, dancing and competitions. You all will delight in the wondrous, safe atmosphere of Castle Harrowgate. The gates of Castle Harrowgate shall be opened at first dusk in two days' time, and you are expected to be punctual. Dictated but not read Damon and Stefan Salvatore.

While Y/n wasn't one for gatherings, she could appreciate a ball every once in a while. She felt a bit of dread pooling inside of her at the thought of meeting the Salvatores, who had known of her and Klaus while she hadn't known of their mere existence.

Still, she walked across the mansion and picked some flowers the whole morning. In the afternoon, she wrote a poem and read some chapters of her current read that was of her beloved genre, gothic horror.

Once the sun had begun getting tired, though, Y/n slipped into her room and sat in front of her vanity. It still felt a little foreign to her, she wouldn't lie. That doesn't mean she didn't find it infinitely convenient.

She applied rose water on her face first and then rubbed some cream on the skin in order to make her skin look just a little more alive than a corpse's. It brought a certain shine to her face, she thought.

Then she dabbed some light coloured starch on her face in order to even out her complexion, though she didn't quite need to. She was simply following a makeup routine she had learnt from a lady while she had been out in the towns a few months ago, when the sun was overhead and blinding.

She smiled a little tightly as she put some maroon powder on the top of her cheeks, making her look like she had a heart and blood circulation under her skin. Smiling genuinely at her reflection in the mirror, she looked away just before she could begin to point out her flaws.

Lastly, she dabbed some lip tint on her mouth in a way that made her lips look bitten rather than painted.

Tying her own corset for her dress was troublesome enough that she had broken a sweat whilst she'd been at it. Patting cotton all over her face in annoyance, she fixed the ruffles of her dress for the last time.

The colour of the dress was similar to that of the darkest emerald out there, and upon it were drawn complex patterns in all shades of green that went best with the gown's colour.

She had her hair in a low bun sitting on the nape of her neck, the lowest of her hair strands falling out into coils just a couple inches lower. A flowery crown sat on top of her bun like a crown made out of golden oak leaves, the crystals reflecting the sunlight all over the room.

Anxious that she was likely forgetting something, she took hold of her purse and carried in her other hand the gift she had chosen to give – a thick and rich blanket, along with other trinklets and fruits and nuts. She'd also added a tobacco pouch or two in there.

She rushed out of the mansion and sped to the main street, where she accepted herself in a carriage. Once she was sat, she took a deep breath.

Although gradually she realised that the cold sweat she'd broken earlier wasn't because she had been racing around.

It was because subconsciously, she felt like there was a stone sitting inside her chest, one other than her heart. It was heavy, and sharp too. Something was going to go wrong, her guts screamed. She had an instinct that she was going to die that evening, but she ignored all and focused on the dying scenery around her as the carriage raced further.

It was a masquerade ball, surely she'd be able to fool death if it happened to be there as well. 

When the carriage turned into a lane, and Y/n saw the mansion; a shiver ran down her spine. It was eerily quiet there, no one in sight and no sounds of a gathering filling the atmosphere.

The castle’s walls stood tall, with tinted windows. It looked like a secretive fortress, with its additional dark towers and iron gates.The sun light didn’t reach the estate very well, and it was all shades of dark – with not even a barren tree in its circumference. 

Had she come too early, she wondered and checked her pocket watch. She was just a few minutes late, actually. Maybe people weren't so punctual anymore, she shouted back at her alarmed instincts.

She looked up at the sky which was darkening as the sun was setting. But it was full of heavy clouds drifting slowly, waiting for the right time to bring hell on land.

In the time that she came face to face with the castle, she tried to focus on her hearing. But she couldn't hear any heartbeats, nor any quietened gossip floating around. It was more silent than Y/n had noticed it was underwater during the summer.

Clutching her shawl in clenched fists, she stepped off the carriage. Handing the man a couple pennies and thanking him, she waited as he backed away until out of the sight.

Then she finally turned her gaze onto the Castle Harrowgate, and as she began to feel like it was all a trap, she realised that might as well already be in one.

Klaus had told her that he would meet her by the time the ball would start, to accompany her for the dance since he couldn't imagine sharing with another man the pleasure of dancing with his wife. And upon checking the watch once again, Y/n remembered that the gates must have been opened about half an hour ago.

So, to see no footprints outside the muddy path covered with cobblestones stood out to her. She squinted her eyes, unsure if she'd be able to make a run for it now.

Y/n was better than that though, she could fight an army of vampires if she wanted to with her original strength. But to be wearing a gown and heels, with a gift bag in one hand and a purse in the other, Y/n wasn't sure if she wanted to get blood sprayed all over herself.

Sensing eyes on her, she searched the windows to see even a shadow. But there was none. It was the same feeling as the one she'd gotten when she'd been in the forest a couple days prior, feeling like she was being preyed upon.

She gulped dryly, praying to a god she didn't believe existed that the cowards behind this plan would be willing to talk this through. She didn't wish to be anyone's death, nor did she wish to die herself. She did, occasionally, but now as she felt like death was breathing down her neck, she felt like taking another sip of life before going to bed.

As she walked further and crossed the threshold of the castle, she felt wind move behind her before she could've seen past the open gates.

She screamed but a hand was covering her mouth and as she tried to remind herself that she was a vampire and didn't need to be frightened, her vision began to fade inwards until she could see nothing but the death's cousin – that is sleep.

When she gained back her senses again, she knew that she was in a lot of trouble. She still couldn't see, but she could smell the vampires who had probably noticed her consciousness by now. She could hear them bickering that had come to a sudden halt. She could feel someone standing right beside her in a second and she could touch the chains that she'd been tied up with.

It was raining heavily outside, probably so angrily that it would feel like there were millions of needles being dropped on your skin, all at once, if one happened to be out in it. 

Her arms were stinging since they'd been tied up on the two sides. She was on her knees, bent over because of weakness. At least she hoped that's what they thought she felt. Her hair was falling on her face and over her shoulder – how had it slipped out of a tight bun, she wondered and came to the conclusion that it must have happened when she'd struggled against the man's chest while he'd had her in a chokehold with vervain held right over her nose.

Had she been in his place, she'd have burned the skin off the captive's face. She smiled at the kindness these people had shown her.

"Glad you'll finally be put out of the misery of living your immortal life?" Someone spoke from across the room, a man. Likely middle aged, she assumed.

"Glad to finally meet you, Guiseppe," Y/n smirked when the man's breathing stuttered just a bit. "Though I wish it hadn't been this way."

"A lovely mouth you've got with a lovely face," said a younger voice. "Too bad that all the fortune would go to waste."

Y/n chuckled, then choked because of the dryness in her throat. "Mark my words when I say that this will be the very mouth that'll rip your throat out, Salvatore" she shrugged, unsure whether it was Stefan or Damon that she was talking to.

"C'mon, you can't possibly be delusional enough to hope you're going to get out of this one!" Said the same voice, quietened by a clearing of the throat.

The window shutters were rattling, and a couple of animals were howling outside. 

"Damon, bring a chair for me, will you?" Said Guiseppe.

Y/n laughed at that; her head was thrown back. "Since when do you care so much that your child might witness a murder?"

"Oh, trust me hon, death doesn't even bother me no more," Damon joked and Y/n grinned. It would be a petty to shut that humourous mouth forever six feet deep into the ground.

"Damon, go," said a handsome voice.

It was silent for a moment and all of Y/n's senses were working relentlessly. But the most she could hear was the ongoing storm outside, thunder rolling like death was on its own carriage, coming down to take Y/n with it.

The thought of whether she had served her purpose in her life was fleeting. But then she began to ponder, if only humans were allowed to deal with existentialism, and whether it was satirical for her to even be thinking that she might just have a meaning to her life.

But then she drifted off to think of her immortality. All her life, she'd never dared to ponder over it – afraid she might begin to have the urge to kill herself. Had she made anything out of having a life that'd never end?

Did she need to do that? Did she really need a reason or a purpose to live? Or since being an immortal, she had to pay the loan by giving this world her all?

But before she could start to lose her mind, she was snapped back to reality.

“I only saw you from the back, in the forest and from outside your mansion,” said the same handsome voice before he chuckled. Y/n’s breathing came to halt – she had been right.

“But sweetheart, you seem like the devil carved you himself – so dangerously beautiful,” he whispered under his breath. 

When Y/n didn’t say anything, wanting for him to continue admitting all that he’d done, the young one laughed. 

"We aren't going to kill you, by the way,” said he who Y/n was beginning to assume was Stefan.

"Too bad that I will, once I'm out of these shackles."

Y/n genuinely was disappointed. She wanted to cry because she hadn't even thought about this possibly being a trap, and she hated herself for it. And she also hated the fact that these people found it so entertaining, the way they'd played her.

Feeling pathetic, she manipulated herself to turn her sadness into ferocious rage. She couldn't let these men take advantage of her.

Someone laughed, and Y/n smiled. She wanted them to believe that she couldn't help herself out of the chains.

"We just want Klaus," Damon said as if he was bored out of his wits. "You see, he loves you. Surely, he'll trace you here. Then we'll capture him, toy with him, kill him and ponder what to do with your beauty."

Y/n wasn't feeling too sarcastic anymore. She wanted to skin these men alive and hang them upside down to be eaten alive by the crows. But she contained herself with a deep breath.

"You've seen so much of my beauty, it'll only be fair if I got to see yours," she proposed and waited in silence as someone walked over and removed the blindfold from her face.

Squinting, she saw Guiseppe, who looked like he wanted to kill himself. Then she saw Damon, who looked exactly like he talked and Stefan, who was as handsome as his smooth voice.

"Handsome, you two," she nodded at the younger men. "Surely you've got your looks from your stunning mother," she added.

Damon snickered and Stefan glared at him.

"You know, since Klaus met you, his heart has clearly grown quite faint. And we have been sitting, bored, for too long now. It would be nice to have somethings stirred up, yea?"

Y/n shivered as the dark room lit up when lightning stroked the sky.

"Oh, you don't play games with the wily devil," she cautioned, lowering her voice just to exaggerate although everyone in the room was on edge, knowing she'd spoken nothing if not the utter truth.

"Too late to back out now, though," a glowering voice came from right outside the locked doors of what Y/n could only assume was a dungeon or a chamber of some sort.

She grinned, quickly scanning the three men's faces to relish in their fear. Damon's sharp eyes were now wide open, waiting for his death to come any second now. Stefan was standing in a stance, ready to fight although he knew he didn't stand a chance.

And Guiseppe had broken cold sweat, his breathing was so heavy Y/n almost missed the erratic beating of his heart.

Klaus was here, she could imagine him standing behind the door solely for the suspense, fully capable of breaking down the door into shambles.

He kicked once, and the doors came falling inwards, Damon stepping back just in time for the wood to splinter on the floor in front of him.

When Y/n's eyes met with Klaus', she urged him to turn around. But then she flinched when Klaus missed her indication and was hit by a vase on the nape of his neck.

He fell to the ground. crouching for only a second before he'd disappeared.

The three men searched frantically, turning and twisting in distress.

Y/n saw him racing towards her and she opened her arms, letting him carry her. He situated her on the floor above, behind the railings.

“Are you alright?” He asked frantically, searching her over for any signs of injuries. But Y/n cupped his face and kissed him, reassuring him that she wasn’t wounded.

"Don't look," he asked of her earnestly, knowing the effect it could potentially have on her later on. "For me," he breathed.

Y/n pecked his mouth, then. Resting her lips on his until there was only Klaus' scent in front of her instead of him. She stumbled back and slid down a wall, sitting down and burrowing her head in her knees.

"Prepare your riffles!" Guiseppe shouted at the group of men filling the room urgently.

Guns were cocked and sat on men's shoulders, their fingers on the triggers, ready to shoot to kill.

"Where's --" Albert was cut off by a gust of air, during which he disappeared. He was one of the men, the most determined of them all and still the one with the most thirst for life.

Damon turned and saw for himself the chains to which he had tied Y/n, now lying on the grounds, wrapped around Albert's throat. His eyes were wide open, not a sparkle of life left in them.

Swallowing, Damon knocked his elbow into Stefan's ribs. When he hissed in response, Damon shut him up by pointing towards the dead body.

Both of the boys were now looking towards their father with the same hatred they glared at him with every day. He was going to be the reason behind their deaths. They thought of fleeing at the same point, unaware of each other's notions but both were too full of pride to die a coward.

They knew that if they ran, they had a higher chance of dying.

It was silent again, the only sounds in the room being rapidly beating hearts being interrupted by the rolling thunder outside.

Someone pulled the trigger, and when everyone saw, the bullet had passed through the middle of his own forehead. It was Frank, the one who had come to fight quite reluctantly.

Many men were thinking of fleeing now.

"You didn't tell us that the vampires could do this!" Bert gritted near Guiseppe's ear. He was now hopeless for he was never going to get to take walks near his favourite lake ever again.

"You'll be more responsible for our deaths than these goddamn monsters," shouted young James from across the room. He has just gotten married and wanted to have children, raise them up to be as strong as their mother.

Guiseppe was getting more and more frantic now, he could see his death waiting around the corner for him. The sweat rolling down his back was too cold, and his heart felt like it was going to burst inside of his chest.

Nothing was going how he had planned it.

James also disappeared then, and upon noise, everyone saw that his body was hanging off the humongous chandelier, the blood from the open wound on his neck dripping down on men's faces and on the floor. The sound of the blood pooling was ringing in everyone's ears and they all moved out of the way quickly, wiping off the blood on them with the cuffs of their shirts.

Metallic scent of the blood was beginning to suffocate everyone. Choking sounds were heard before William was thrown to a wall, also dead. He was a master at playing cards.

"Run everyone and set the room on fire!" Shouted Bert, but then his head was smashed off his shoulders and his body was swaying around, before it fell to the ground, writhing a little more before going still.

Now only Damon, Stefan and Guiseppe were left alive in the room. The two younger ones looked at each of the lifeless bodies, then at each other.

"God, I want to kill you two before they get a chance!" Guiseppe roared and bent to steal the gun from Bert's hands.,

But before he could pull the trigger, his head was pulled back and a knife sliced his throat.

The two boys howled in agony and covered their faces when Guiseppe's blood sprayed all over them.

When nothing more happened, they opened their eyes and saw Y/n still holding onto their father, the knife still in her bloodied hands.

Dropping the body then, Y/n looked at them regretfully.

She had to come out since Klaus had to take a second to keep his wolf at bay and the old twat was going to shoot his sons. She didn't mind witnessing the three men's deaths at all though. Surely, they must've prepared themselves for it when they'd been planning the entire betrayal.

"Sorry you had to see that," she muttered, stealing her gaze from their horrified ones. Or maybe from Klaus' eyes that shone golden from where he was standing right behind their backs.

She knew the two brothers' fates before they could've even battled whether to try and negotiate a deal or not.

One of the chains which she had been tied to earlier, was wrapped around Klaus' fist.

In the blink of her eyes, both of the brothers had begun choking. The same chain wrapped around their throats; their backs pressed together. If one tried to pull the chain away from their neck, the other brother would choke to death.

Damon was coughing out his spare breaths, panic widening his eyes so much that Y/n feared they might pop out of their sockets. His mouth was beginning to lose colour just like his skin. Still, there was the beg for another chance reddening his eyes, but Y/n switched her gaze onto Stefan.

He was wheezing heavily, his throat making loud creaky noises that Y/n, unfortunately, could recognise anywhere, at any time. He was dying faster than Damon, and his eyes were set on hers when they stopped moving.

As his body began to fall forward, the chain around Damon's neck tightened so tightly that his tongue protruded out of his mouth, eyes staring into the void, lifeless.

Y/n took a shuddering breath, then looked at Klaus.

"I'm sorry you had to do this," she whispered, crossing over the two dead bodies to cup his face.

It had been hard to have him feel solace with his existence without having the urge to kill. Almost like trying to get him clean off of a drug addiction.

This had been a relapse, then. And Y/n's stone-cold heart was trembling inside her chest in fear of losing him to the coping addiction again.

But then the golden rim of an eclipse melted like honey into the moss of his eyes, and they crinkled at the corners. He leaned in and rested his forehead on hers.

"This did not happen because of you, remember that," he whispered. "I needed to do this, or I wouldn't have been able to live with myself."

Y/n nodded solemnly. A tear rolled down her cheek.

"I love you," she sobbed, her body shaking as she pushed herself further into Klaus' chest, wanting to hide away from all that was surrounding her. "You are the remedy of all things."

"Always and forever, my love," Klaus smiled, wrapping his arms around her.

"Let's go home," he muttered into her hair and bent down to pick her up like he had on their wedding day.

"No carriages, since the driver will surely take us to the authorities upon seeing us doused in blood and have not a single wound at the same time," he grinned, laughing when she hit his chest.

"I was really excited for this ball," Y/n sighed. "I wish it didn't have to be this way."

"Me too, love," Klaus said, preparing to race through the small town along with the clear wind.

"But it was evanescent, wasn't it? This rage, this murderous urge – it was fleeting?" Y/n asked nervously, hopefully.

Klaus nodded faintly. "I'm offended you'd think I have such low control," he teased, and Y/n breathed a sigh of relief. “My love, this thirst has gone as quickly as it’d come,” he reassured her. 

"Didn't want to kill again but I'm guessing it was for the better, since no one would dare to forget about what the hybrid is capable of for a long time now," smirking, Klaus looked around at the mess he'd made.

“Now let’s go back home,” he smiled and Y/n’s eyes watered as she nodded. 

When Klaus had suspected foul play, he'd felt vontade; a strong desire to do something. So powerful had been his inner drive to remind everyone of his terror that he couldn't have helped himself. The thought of losing Y/n had been petrifying enough.

So, he kicked someone's decapitated head out of his way and strolled outside, already annoyed upon the realisation that in the morning, he’d have to hear about the harrowing news of the horrors found inside the Castle Harrowgate. 

[moonstruckme]

Omg wait are you looking for prince!sirius requests? I love that series but I didn't want to be pushy about it lol

What about some kind of big event for r that she's feeling some anxiety about, and she goes to sirius for help? Like she's giving a speech so she practices it with him, or they do flashcards of important people she needs to know the names of?

Thanks for requesting angel!

cw: allusions to Black family dynamics

prince!Sirius x princess!reader ♡ 860 words

“You’ve got it,” Sirius encourages you. “I’ll give you a hint. It starts with a b, like buttmunch, which if you talk to him you’ll find is really very fitting.” 

Your lips curve, but your brow remains firmly set in concentration. 

“Okay, b. B…Beekman?” 

“Very close.” Sirius puts the flashcard down. “Becker.” 

“Damn it.” You sit back from where you’d leaned forward to peer at Becker’s face, hands clasping around your tented knees. 

“Time for a break?” he suggests. 

“Yeah, guess so.” You reach for the cup of tea sitting on your bedside table, rubbing beside your eyebrow. 

You’re wearing pajamas again. Or, they might not be pajamas to you, but they are to Sirius. Sweatpants and a loose top that drapes off your form and looks delightfully soft. Sirius had tried to follow suit, but the closest he could get was a plain, fitted shirt and his most comfortable trousers. Sirius’ family doesn’t really believe in loungewear. 

He likes that you’re not like that, though. It’s hard to know how normal the Blacks are even among royalty, but you seem less bound to any expectations besides your own than any royals he’s met. You were kind enough to lend him a pair of sweatpants when he arrived, and Sirius has never felt more spoiled. 

“Sorry this is taking so long,” you say. “I was never great with names.” 

“You’ll be alright,” Sirius reassures you. Though, names are sort of a big part of these dinners. Everyone wants you to know who they are, to validate their importance and make them feel like they have a close personal connection to power. Sirius is lucky; memorization comes easily to him, and he’s been kept abreast of who’s dying off and who’s getting married since he was old enough to speak. “Even if you can’t remember all of them, you can always get by with enthusiasm.” 

You cock your head interestedly. “Enthusiasm?” 

“You know. Goodness gracious,” he rolls his eyes, speaking with a deadpan delivery, “it is so wonderful to finally meet you. How are you, how is your family? That sort of shit.” 

Your smile blooms. It really is a lovely sight, and one Sirius wishes he’d been graced with more often since meeting you. He understands why you’ve not been in particularly high spirits; after meeting an entire new family, being forced to make nice with supercilious aristocrats, and learning your family plans to marry you off without really asking for your input, Sirius wouldn’t be feeling particularly smiley either. Still, he hopes to see more of it. 

“Does that really work?” you ask him. 

“Course. All any of them want is to feel like you know them. Whatever accomplishes that is fine. What did the Queen tell you?” 

Your smile fades, your mouth twisting instead with a dry humor. “She wasn’t around. One of her advisors just said to study the flashcards and try to talk as little as was inoffensive, whatever that means. Basically stay out of trouble, I guess.” 

Sirius huffs a laugh. He can’t count how many times people have told him to stay out of trouble. He’s fairly sure he never once listened. 

“Well, I think you’ll do lots better than they’re expecting.”

“Really?” Your eyes turn up to his, big and hopeful. Sirius feels his mouth curve of its own volition. 

“Yeah,” he says earnestly. “Just be yourself, gorgeous. They won’t be able to leave you alone.

It’s certainly been true for Sirius. And the fact is, you could make the biggest faux pas of the century and none of those snobs would call you on it. You’re a princess. 

He does genuinely believe that you could get by even without your status, though. You’re not an imposing presence, but there’s an air about you that puts people at ease. You emanate good intentions. It’s intriguing; Sirius hardly knows anything about those. 

You hide a smile behind your teacup. “I thought we said no flirting when no one was around.” 

“Sorry. Can’t help it. Fair warning, by the way,” he drops his voice into a more serious register, “you’ll probably have to be introduced to my parents. Now that they think you’ve agreed to their arrangement, they’ll want to meet you.” 

“Oh.” You blink, lowering your tea. “Okay. I’m excited to meet them.” 

So this is how you sound when you lie. 

“It won’t be fun,” Sirius warns. “They’re not nice, but they probably won’t really care about speaking to you after being introduced. It ought to be short, at least.” 

“Sirius,” you laugh, and it’s hard to tell whether the twitch in Sirius’ gut is from you saying his name or the sound of your laughter. Further studies will be needed. “They’re your parents. They can’t be that bad.” 

Sirius heaves a sigh, flopping sideways so he’s lying across your bed. “They are.” He gives your knee a pat. “But no need to worry about that now. Ready to get back to the cards?” 

“Sure.” Your posture straightens slightly, a cute, concentrated frown coming to your lips. Sirius holds up the first flashcard. “Alright. This one’s name starts with a w, like wanker.”

[with-my-calamitous-love]

JAMES DEAN DAYDREAM LOOK IN YOUR EYES ♫

rockstar! chuuya x popstar! reader

part 2/3

smut! you are responsible for what you read 💿

at an award show, the press make many speculations about your rising fame and your relationship with the infamous rockstar, chuuya nakahara.

inspired by style

midnight.

if there was an award show, chuuya was going. he was one of the youngest, most awarded rockstars ever. he's charming and handsome, with hands that play his guitar like a god. not to mention his sanguine voice coupled with his broody, meaningful lyrics. he was the subject of every teenage girl's heart.

he was a man that reveled in the fame, charming fans and interviewers alike. but for the most part, he insisted on letting the world watch him act. he knows damn well what the music industry can do to a star, and he's determined to rise above that.

still, every now and then theres a question that makes his gorgeous smirk falter.

"chuuya nakahara! can you tell us who you've been dating?"

"mr. nakahara! what do you have to say about moving on too fast?"

"chuuya! is it true you've started a relationship with Y/N L/N?"

he takes a deep breath. just dissassociate, and smile for the press. its what he does best. "i think some things are best left unsaid. right now, i'm focusing on my album, out november 1st."

the news of his new music is enough to distract adoring fans from his love life, instead heading the questions towards what he does best. all eyes are on him, orange hair slicked back and a loose, white classic shirt. his ability to look stunning despite the pressure brought upon by prying eyes is nothing short of remarkable.

he hears a lot about his newest music video, smiling every time he hears your name come up. the video you two had released sky-rocketed your name, and chuuya's just happy he could help. this time, he can genuinely smile- only when his mind flickers back to the acted, fake, and nothing more than a staged kiss. right?

funny how a fabricated kiss scene made his heart swell for weeks after.

its the first time he's felt that since his last relationship.

even though he's escaped, theres still people who speak on his past relationship, and evidently his past wrongdoings. for a moment there, it seems everyone believed he was a cheating bastard. that he was an unfaithful player who wanted woman like they were trophies. and for a minute, he was.

the fame had gotten to him. singing for thousands of fans, wining trophies and having his name on headlines made the rockstar believe he was invincible. but he wasn't. turns out too many shots of tequila and almost kissing a blonde girl he thought was his girlfriend can really mess up a rockstar. and it did.

the constant speculations on his relationship status made him sweat with anxiety. he fucked up and he knew it. he wasn't happy in his relationship, and found himself wishing for different in the end, but thats never an excuse to cheat. though he never did the deed, that almost was enough. there were reports and witnesses, enough for the media to take it and run. for months, his pr team worked day and night to keep the story at a minimum. and their efforts were surprisingly valiant, with higuchi choosing to stay quiet about the whole situation. chuuya never figured out why, even after their inevitable breakup, but he was thankful none the less.

somehow, you managed not to hear of the entire situation. maybe thats why chuuya was so eager to rope you into his life.

soon, he was no longer on fire. after a long waiting period, he was free to be adored again, leading him to make his music video with you, the same video that brought him back to this very award show, and the video that made him wish he could be next to you right now.

his anxiety is flaring up. he's still worried his career could go down in flames, that he'll never escape his monumental fuck up. that everything he's worked for won't be worth it if his guilt and regrets aren't monetized.

after a few short kisses and hugs, chuuya escapes to a private room, designated for singers and celebrities attending the show. the room is empty, with everyone already out there and dazzling the fans. everyone except you.

he blinks when he sees you touching up your bangs in the mirror. he knows that nervous shake in your hands all too well. this could end in burning flames or paradise.

he approaches, clearing his throat.

you immediately turn around, seeing him. his blue eyes are immediately drawn into your red lips- just what he likes

"you look nice." he utters, coming up next to you and adjusting his own appearance in the mirror. you had been in here for quite some time, bracing you and your pop-princess persona to get out there. somehow, chuuya senses this.

"this your first event?" he asks, blue eyes flickering to you. you nervously chuckle, almost wanting to lie but immediately knowing he'd call your bluff. "yeah... something like that."

he finds this endearing. and maybe he just wants to be close to you, to help you or because he's a god damn gentlemen, he silently wraps his arm around your waist and leads you out of the room.

the fact that this is your first time being so close to the paparazzi is not lost on chuuya. he studies your face, the way you answer questions so genuienely and so excitedly. he knows they wanna ruin your pretty face, and he prays your strong enough to overcome it.

he's so mesmerized by you he doesn't even notice the way photographers and interviewers are freaking out at the fact that chuuya nakahara and Y/N L/N just walked out on the carpet at the exact same time, fueling the already circulating rumors. he knows that they'll have a field day with tonight, but for once, he doesn't seem to mind. maybe because it's with you.

the two of you walk off, enjoying a few drinks and chatting. you've known chuuya nakahara: the rockstar. but now, you've been getting to know chuuya. the guy who loves small dogs, fancy hats and taylor swift. the guy who has the most embarrassing real laugh that he hides from the media. the guy who likes to stalk his own fanpages, and who can't say no to a signature.

and after a few more drinks and some soft arm touching, the two of you clammer into his limousine and speed off to his penthouse.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

the media likes to believe they know everything about you and chuuya.

they’re convinced you two dating, that you’re using him for fame and that he’s moving on too fast from his relationship. that you’re not pretty or talented enough for him, or that he’s just a passing thought for you.

what they don’t know is that his head is between you thighs, eating you out like a god damn dessert.

your shaky hands fly to his hair, tugging at him while his lips work their magic. he’s fluid and elegant, yet rough while we works you through yet another orgasm.

every now and then he’ll spit on you, mesmerized by the way it drips down your already gushing pussy. he reaches and maddeningly trails his fingers in a sloppy pattern, letting his essence coat you before diving back in. he’ll start with one long stripe going up the length of your pussy, savouring your cries before diving in.

he’s relentless, determined to make your toes curl and back arch. he’ll let the tip of his tongue trace circles around your clit, watching how it throbs. his thumbs move to part you even further, giving him better access to this meal.

he absolutely ravages you, leaving no part untouched as he tongue-fucks you. his grip tightens on your thighs as you finally cum again, letting him lap it all up like its second nature.

your body and mind are buzzing as chuuya makes his way back up with a trail of kisses, a shit eating grin plastered on his face. “told you i only needed 5 minutes.”

despite your flushed out face and spent, trembling thighs, you utter: “s-shut up.”

he laughs, sitting up and getting you some water. his bedsheets are luxurious, as you wrap your naked body in them. when he returns, he sets it down on the beside and lazily lays next to you, lying on his stomach. his back looks great like this, all his muscles on display.

but you can’t shake something you overheard.

“did you really cheat on her?”

he blinks. of course you’d bring that up after having sex.

he sighs, knowing this was only a matter of time. he shouldn’t feel so guilty. he didn’t actually cheat, though he was close to it. some would argue the intent is betrayal enough.

you’re not sure how to feel. rumours are just rumours, especially in the celebrity world. but you want to know if the man you’ve been falling for has a history of unfaithfulness.

he runs his hands through his air, barely being able to look you in the eye. “i.. came close to it.”

he wants to vomit, having to talk about it again.

you simply nod, seeing on your phone the already sparkling headlines about yours and chuuya’s love lives again. if you doom scroll long enough, they’re already reigniting the flame of his past relationship and how it ended.

you really hope this doesn’t end badly. for his sake and yours.

“are you mad?” he asks, thinking he already knows the answer. you pause for a moment. you’re angry, albeit only a little. most of that anger is towards yourself for not finding out sooner. you’re mostly just confused, if anything.

instead, you resolve to shake your head. “no, i’m not.”

and really, for a moment, you werent. the media was feasting off of something new. those that chose to rehash the past were less popular. the people wanted to see whats new, whats flashy and whats dazzling. right now, its you and chuuya together.

“what does this mean for us?” you hesitantly whisper, sliding down into the bedsheets to see him better. truthfully, neither of you know. the only thing thats clear are the feelings you share for one another.

he simply shrugs. “i’m gonna drag you down, doll. you’re a star. don’t let me do that to you.”

what hurts the most is that he’s right, even if its only a little. but you’re either an idiot, or in love. maybe both.

“..thats okay.” you smile, resolving to put love first, music second.

oh, how you’d come to regret that.

but you don’t relent when he pulls you into his arms, covering you two with the bedsheets. phones are tossed somewhere on the bed, and the penthouse keeping the two of you private. right now, you two could be together in secret. let them call it what they want.

[genevievefangirl]

Gen's Top 100 DBDA Fics - PART 7

For all caveats/rules/backstory, please read the Master Post

signed, sealed, delivered By: sulfuric @c-rowland Rating: G Tags: Fluff, Mutual Pining, Getting Together Summary: The misty remains of the thing haven’t even cleared from the air of the office when Smiley—still on his back, rolling over like a golden retriever—is looking again to Uptight and grinning wide in a way the Postman can only reliably describe as stupid. He’s been standing here observing the ruckus for a good minute, now, and the two of them are completely in their own world, unaware of anything but each other. It takes him a tick, but Uptight smiles, too. (or: the Postman, observing.) My Notes: This is really fun as an outsider’s POV fic and who doesn’t love the Ghost Postman?!

So Tie Me to a Post and Block My Ears By: that_trans_autistic_guy @that-trans-autistic-guy Rating: T Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Hell, Trauma, Blindness, Deaf, Past Torture, Protective Charles Rowland Summary: Edwin loved his job. Truly, being a detective was something he’d daydreamed about in life and it was his reality in his afterlife, a genuine dream come true. Even better, he had the best partner and agency he could have ever asked for. The work was always intriguing and exciting, there was always more to learn and he always had his favorite person by his side. What more could he need? My Notes: Edwin having a panic attack and then Charles calms him down? Sign me up please! And the second chapter being Charles POV of the whole thing is the cherry on top.

solatium By: matelotage Rating: T Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, PTSD Summary: It's not something Charles noticed right away in the heat of things, considering they'd been in hell the first time it happened, and at the mercy of a deranged witch the other. But they'd been the only times he'd seen Edwin without his usual posh school attire. My Notes: Charles giving Edwin his coat after the events of Ep 8 is EVERYTHING TO ME

Something’s gone terribly wrong (But I’ll make it better) By: Aster_Flower114 aStar_flower on twitter Rating: NR Tags: Fluff, Protective Charles Rowland, Injury Summary: Short fic about Edwin getting badly injured during a case and is reluctant to rest for a bit My Notes: Edwin refusing help/rest when he's hurt? So in character, but also makes me want to smack him lol

Soul Protector By: Ice_Elf @ice-elf Rating: M Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Charles Rowland, Soul Bond Summary: Whoever held the greatest claim on his soul could be worse than Doll Spider. They might doom him to an eternity of pain that even he couldn’t imagine. But he didn’t care: this chance of freedom—of snatching victory from the creature that had stolen decades of his existence—was far greater than any risk. “The claimant is unknown,” the Justiciar stated. “If they approach the court with the proper paperwork, or are willing to be put to the sword, we will revisit your case. ~ Following their return from Hell, Edwin and Charles had thought themselves safe. They had believed that Hell and its denizens had no more claim on Edwin's soul. Unfortunately, not everyone is of the same opinion. When Edwin is summoned to a tribunal to determine whether the Doll Spider or the Office of Lost and Found has the greater claim on his soul, it is up to Charles, Crystal and the Night Nurse to put things right. The truth, however, may be more complicated than it seems - and more than one of the agency will be forced to confront their demons. My Notes: This is truly one of the greats for me. The worldbuilding, the characterization, and the plot are all exactly what I want out of a fanfic. And Edwin and Charles are just so devoted and codependent in this it is unreal.

Spectral Rage By: Baby_Spinach @a-jasminator Rating: T Tags: Hurt/Comfort, FIrst Kiss, Whump, Protective Charles Rowland, Protective Edwin Payne Summary: "Hold on, you think I'd turn?" Charles demands. "Every ghost has a unique trigger, and I can't say I wasn't a little concerned on a few occasions in Port Townsend. Then, with that same look in your eyes just now…" Edwin isn't wrong; it's not like Charles hadn't been thinking the same thing. But he shakes his head and attempts a comforting grin--Edwin's got too much on his plate to waste time worrying about the one person who's supposed to look out for him. "Don't worry, mate, I'm aces. So how do we find this demonic arsehole?" -OR- All ghosts are capable of turning vengeful. When their quarry is revealed to be a demon from Edwin's past, Charles and Edwin learn something important about their own personal triggers. My Notes: References to Edwin's time in Hell? The boys being mutually protective? One of them turning into a dangerous powerful mess when the other is threatend? What's not to love!

Still a Better Lovestory By: Vamillepudding @vamillepudding Rating: T Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hanahaki Disease, Protective Charles Rowland Summary: “That about did it,” Edwin says, patting himself down and straightening his bowtie. “Now, if you’re ready, I suggest we find a mirror and-“ “Did you just cough up a flower?” Charles interrupts. Flower, perhaps, is a slight exaggeration. It’s more like a petal, red and incredibly out of place here on the shore. Edwin clears his throat, but this time no petals follow. “Certainly it’s nothing to worry about.” Or: Edwin is suffering from a weird curse, but for some reason, he's refusing Charles' help. Charles is trying his best to fix it anyway, but Edwin is being oddly secretive about the whole thing. My Notes: I'll admit that I am not normally a Hanahaki desease persona, but this fic is amazing. And if you like Twilight references you will have a lot of fun with this!

still. By: Backstabberr @dulltulipz Rating: T Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Protective Charles Rowland, Hurt Edwin Payne, Hurt Charles Rowland Summary: He reached out to take Edwin’s hand. “I realized…I loved you, that I’m in love with you,” Charles said, his eyes moving from his hands to meet Edwin’s. He was crying as well, his hand gripping Charles tighter. “And you were gone, I couldn’t tell you, I wouldn’t be able to kiss you or hold you. It just started and ended at that very moment.” Charles tripped over some of his words before shuttering, he breathed deeply. [aka Edwin is badly hurt to the point he falls into some sort of ghost coma, Charles inevitably has a revelation.] My Notes: Injuried Edwin to protective charles to love confesssion pipeline strikes again! (And I love it every time)

Stories left on our skin By: DryadGurrl @dryadgurrl Rating: T Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Magical Tattoos, Protective Charles Rowland Summary: Charles always hated re-doing the tattoos, but that was part of why he'd insisted on taking over the task in the first place, it was easier, somehow, being the one to etch those marks into Edwin's skin than it was watching him do it to himself. Or: Edwin has magical tattoos to help with his spellcasting and when a case goes south, it's up to Charles to replace them (and not for the first time) My Notes: I would have never come up with this idea, but it is brilliant. Charles redoing magical tattoos for Edwin is just such an intimate gesture and really shows how close their relationship is.

sun in my eyes By: pisces_spider @pisces-swirlix Rating: G Tags: Fluff, First Kiss, Romantic Soulmates, Platonic Soulmates Summary: When Edwin reads to Charles, everything is okay. Edwin tries to get to the bottom of why Charles likes it so much. (Or — Edwin and Charles treat reading aloud like it’s a love language) My Notes: Edwin reading to Charles is literally one of my favorite things ever.

[luffyvace]

Hey there brook! I hope u having a nice day! Can I ask for a luffy x heroic fem reader headcanon? by heroic I mean that she completely dedicated her life to help and save ppl and that her purpose in life, she's strong and seems cold but when u get to know her she has empathy more than anyone else, I feel like this is the perfect character that luffy would fall in love with, pure kindness hiding behind a tough facade, she doesn't even like being called a hero, yet she is willing to do anything for those in need, slaves, poor villages, she goes against anything unjust without any fear, cause thats her purpose in life (sorry if that was too long 💀)

Hi anon <33 (it makes me so happy that someone finally addressed me as that💗)

today was a very chill day 😊 thank you! How’s yours?

Reader sounds so genuine with such a good background for a op character!!

(Don’t worry it’s not too long—I love to read:3)

Ngl luffy subconsciously sees a little bit of himself in you!!

like your hearts are so similar—gold!

of course he doesn’t directly think that way- but he feels the connection!

which is through helping!

you two never turn your backs on those who have never wronged you

its not even about if they’re on your side or not, as long as they haven’t wrong you? and they need help?

the both of you are on it 🤜🤛👍

you wanting to save others becomes admirable to more than just him, to all of the straw hats—chopper and usopp especially!

I’m gonna go ahead and say it here and now you remind both Jinbe and luffy of whitebeard and fishman island type thing

LIKE THAT’S HOW IT IS!!

Y/n is just her tbh 🤷‍♀️

and if the ops don’t like that? 🤨

🤜💥

how you like that? >:)

your strength may or may not be hereditary but either way if you don’t continue training or working out your gonna loose that strength eventually

which shows just how hard you train everyday!!

bro works harder than zoro 🗿

and we all know he don’t sleep on workin out

so y/n is a gorilla the og

its no wonder you be cookin the ops like breakfast👩‍🍳👍

this is literally turning into a rant about me being (name)’s biggest fan ok let’s move on

luffy saw you cold exterior and was like

😍😍😘🥰😘💍💋💋💋

LOLOLOL no but fr he looked straight past that

he always does- he ignored law’s and zoro’s why wouldn’t he with you-

and once he sees your true kindness???

Locked in like a booty hole 🔗

(ANYWAY I HAD TO🧍‍♀️)

yeah he pretty much busts right through that

he pretty much instantly demands you already are is nakama after that

Your empathy is what really swoops him off his feet tho

like luffy has a good sense of empathy so much so he can hear the voice of all things

and you probably can too! It’s highly likely!

(y/n could have her own anime at this point 🤷‍♀️😚)

But seriously the way he can just feel the way you long for others when they’re in pain just gets him right at the heartstrings you know?! 🥺❤️‍🩹

you comfort them so assuredly and keep your promise to win every time !!

luffy would admire himself more than he would know if he realized how alike the two of you are

tbh you probably admire luffy!!

like it’s a mutual thing, where you pretty much don’t see your own coolness you only see the other’s

so you admire each other unaware that your the same 😂💗

he absolutely adores and admires that empathetic part of you thoo!

he loves how your kind and tough

he wholeheartedly believes the strong should protect the weak, cuz that’s what a man does.

especially with nakama.

so he definitely understands your need to protect those who can’t do it for themselves

there are many times he can recall where he had to rely on others

so he loves that your the one who does that for people

and you don’t do it for the money or fame!

you don���t even view yourself as the hero and savior that bystanders see you as!

that’s so cool to him!

you background/past might’ve caused it! Like maybe you had no superhero! So you decided to become one!

he kinda looks up to you in a way 🤩

as someone who has also helped slaves and the poor he completely understands where you come from in your kindness

and it’s even cooler that you charge head on into battle for others without a second thought

that’s just how tough you are ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

not an ounce of fear in your eyes as you walk up to someone 20x the size of you to simply get back the bread they stole from a poor little child

LIKE HOW COOL IS THAT?! 💥💥

your a super hero!! Dundun duh-duuuuuun!!

🦸‍♀️‼️🤩

you have a goal just like him!! He wants to be the king of pirates and you wanna help others!

With the type of pirate he is?, those things go hand in hand 🤝

”STRAW HAT LUFFY AND PIRATE HERO (NAME) IS HERE!! RUN AWAY!!”

says the pirates who know they’ve done wrong doing!! 😎

also excuse (name)’s lame pirate alias i couldn’t think of one 😊💖

(Name) is so cool 😎 I admire her 💓

hope you enjoyed your hcs anon!! *super heroes away🦸‍♀️🚀*

[lokisprettygirl]

Rain to his Fire (Modern! Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon 80s Au) (18+)

Read chapter 3 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 4

Summary: Things heat up between you and Daemon.

Warning: 18+, smutty scenarios, crude language, discussion of mental health (it's a fic based in a mental health facility), mention of physical assault, the fic would contain several mentions of several disorders like mpd, did etc, if something triggers you don't read, smoking.

“American avocet…nope” you mumbled under your breath as you flipped through the pages of the book All birds in the world. You often didn't find yourself in a library so this was new for you as well. You were trying to match the feathers Daemon had given you with an existing bird but so far you had failed to accomplish your goal, and not to forget that you were still hung up on the letter A and it would take weeks to finish researching the book.

At first, the thought of simply asking Daemon what type of bird the feather belonged to had crossed your mind. But then you remembered that he believed himself to be a dragon, and he'd continue to claim that the feathers belonged to him.

You folded the corner of the book to bookmark the page as you didn't want to lose the progress, then you got up and placed the book back on its designated shelf.

As you approached the librarian Corlys he gave you a small smile and you couldn't help but feel sheepish.

“Finished reading?” He asked you so you chuckled, Corlys knew your mother really well, most of the older employees did so he was really always kind and warm to you.

“Ummm can I ask you a question?” You asked him with a tinge of hesitation so he looked at you curiously, his brows raised in anticipation.

“Of Course..anytime dear”

“Uhhh you have been around here for decades so I was wondering if you knew anything about this area habituating exotic birds around here because I found this feather on my window and it made me curious” you gave him the black streaked feather Daemon had offered to you as an apology, of course you didn't tell Corlys the truth. For some reason you didn't want to show him the pure silver one he had placed in your palm last night, it just seemed too precious.

“Let me see” he mumbled under his breath as he pulled up his glasses to inspect the feather and you could tell he was confused,

“I would have said that it resembles a pelican but you won't find them here, besides it's too large to be a pelican's. Are you positive that it's a genuine feather and not a decorative item?”

He asked you and you didn't really have an answer for that because honest to god you didn't even know where the feather had come from or if it was genuine or not.

“You can buy these in shops?” you asked him with a puzzled look on your face so he smiled.

“You can buy anything these days” you nodded as he said that before you mumbled a good day to him and stepped out of the Library.

As you entered your room, the first thing you did was open your drawer to look at the silver feather again. It was soft to the touch and didn't feel fake at all. You couldn't stop thinking about Daemon and his mysterious ways. You felt like he was messing with you and must have bought these feathers to add to his mysterious image. Why didn't you think of this in the first place? Perhaps a part of you just wanted to believe that he was something special, something that was too good to be true.

It was your day off so you hadn't really seen him all day, not even a glimpse. After what he had done last night and as much as you had enjoyed him touching you like that, you were afraid he'd make a habit out of it. So when you laid down in bed at night, your ears remained perked for any sign of movement outside your door but fortunately you didn't hear anything.

And unfortunately it did make you feel a bit disappointed.

As you entered Daemon's room the next morning, you noticed that he was still sleeping. Wanting to turn on a lamp, you reached around the bed and felt something under your feet. Looking down, you saw a pile of hair matching Daemon's hair color. At first, you thought he had cut his own hair, but then you realized that his hair was still the same length as it was yesterday. You were confused and couldn't understand where this hair had come from. It was long, at least 12 inches, which could easily be used to make a proper wig.

Every other day this man had something in his store to mess with your head.

You were in the middle of collecting the hair from the floor when you heard him roll around in the bed and turn on his back, as his eyes met with yours, he raised his non-existent eyebrows and gave you a smile.

“What is this?” You asked him as you picked up a lock of the hair so he rubbed his eyes,

“Well good morning to you as well lady” he mumbled in his groggy ‘I just woke up’ voice so you sighed and got back to cleaning.

“Don't get up if you're not wearing clothes underneath the sheet” you warned him so he chuckled in response.

“Yes mam, anything else?”

He asked you politely but your mind was still confused about the long silky beautiful hair you had found just now.

“What is it? Daemon? What is this?” You asked him again, agitation visible in your voice so he propped himself on his elbows and stared at you. You could see his abs flexing as he craned himself up but this wasn't the time for you to get distracted, there was no time to get distracted by a patient anyways.

"It's my hair... they grow longer when I am able to fully shift into my natural form which I did somehow last night. I have to cut them off with my own nails afterwards.” he mumbled as if he hadn't said the most unbelievable thing ever so you stared at him for a moment in complete disbelief. What were you expecting anyways?

“Okay ..why can't you just keep the hair, why do you have to cut it?” You asked him a follow up question instead of dismissing him like you had done previously so he smiled.

“It's a bit of a hassle..look at it” he told you nonchalantly.

“You're a weird man Mr. Daemon–” you mumbled in disbelief so he chuckled in response.

“Bonkers..innit?”

As you took the broom to the other side of the room you found a few more feathers and sighed. At this point, you had narrowed down the possibilities to two main scenarios. One theory was that he purchased these items beforehand and he was just playing a cruel prank on you. The other possibility was a lot more outrageous to consider. What if he really was a dragon or humagon or a Draman? That would explain the feathers, the hair, and so many other things that didn't quite add up.

But that was just crazy, right? You sighed and shook your head, trying to dismiss the thought from your mind.

Later on, Daemon was taken to see Doctor Lisa for their session. He couldn't believe that Vis had allowed it, but he had a feeling that the bastard was watching from the other side of the mirror. He was then escorted to the middle of the room and was told to sit. A guard cuffed his hands behind the chair while Doctor Lisa took a seat just a few feet away from him.

“You can leave Jacob” Lisa said to the guard so he nodded before he left the room to just two of them.

“So Daemon, good afternoon, how are you feeling?” She asked him as she gave him a warm smile so he chuckled in response.

“What is this, what's going on?” Daemon questioned her so she gave him a comforting smile again.

“You have been making good progress and I just wanted to speak with you about how you were feeling”

She mumbled politely so he looked at her up and down, his gaze intense, piercing into her soul as if he was trying to read her intentions.

“How am I feeling while I'm cuffed like a criminal? You tell me darling, how am I supposed to feel?” Daemon spoke, with a rough and husky tone, almost challenging her. His sharp eyes peered intensely at her, making her squirm in her seat, for a psychiatrist she sure seemed easy to manipulate.

“What's bothering you the most right now?” His lips puckered as she questioned him,

“Come closer and perhaps I'll humor you” he leaned forward to stare at her and she opened her mouth to say something but she felt at loss of words, there was something about him that made her speechless, the glint in his eyes made her uncomfortable but also drew her in..

“Doctor Vis told me that you have always had trouble with your sense of identity and-” before she could finish her sentence he had cut her off,

“Uhhuh when did he tell you that? While he had you bent over his desk this morning or???” he continued, his eyes flashing with anger. Lisa flinched at his words, taken aback by his sudden outburst.

“Daemon you're being inappropriate” she intervened but he cut her off immediately.

“Mmmm but I'm speaking the truth. Am I not? You're married but here you are fucking another man and at the same time so willing to spread your gorgeous legs for a patient sitting in front of you-”

He was amidst his contempt-filled speech when he was dragged up from his seat and punched right in the face but instead of cowering down he let out the sort of laughter that made Doctor Lisa scared. Quickly, Lisa grabbed onto Vis's arms, trying to calm him down as he stood over Daemon, his fists still clenched in anger.

“Let it be.. he's not well, it's not his fault” she said to him so Vis glared at him as he called in the guard to take him away.

“Everytime I think he's making progress he goes on and does something like this” Vis said as Daemon was taken away from the therapy room but Lisa seemed upset with Viserys instead. How did Daemon know of their affair?

“What? He must have seen the wedding ring and made a baseless assumption, that's what he does, he's very observant..always has been” Vis clarified to her but she was so furious that she walked away from him.

As you stepped out of room 390 after cleaning, you noticed Jacob dragging Daemon to his room. As they came closer you realized that his cheek was bleeding. What had he done now?

As soon as Jacob was gone, you looked around carefully before entering Daemon's room. He was already on the bed with a towel pressed against his bleeding cheek, his eyes closed and his body tensed up, clearly in pain.

“What happened?” You asked him as you approached him so he looked at you sharply. His eyes seemed dark and brooding, moments of such intensity always gave you a weird sensation in the pit of your stomach.

“Why do you care?” He asked you so you shrugged in response.

“Because you're bleeding and I'm concerned about your well being as a patient” you told him so he chuckled in response.

You watched in shock as Daemon got up from his bed, tossing the towel into the corner of the room before approaching you like a predator. Instinctively, you took a step back, your heart racing as you kept moving behind until you had hit the wall.

As Daemon reached closer to you, his fingers wrapped around your waist, and he placed his head between the crook of your neck. You could feel the blood from his cheek smearing against your skin, but that was the least of your concern. The proximity was affecting you in more ways than one, and you weren't sure how to react. You were on duty, after all, and it would have been inappropriate to touch him.

But then he seemed so hurt and distraught, his breathing heavy as he sniffed you constantly, you remembered him telling you that it was calming for him, your scent. What was this man made of? You had never met anyone as animalistic in his approach as Daemon was.

And to prove your point further he let out a purring noise as you curled your fingers around his neck and scratched his scalp. You had never heard a man purr like this, how was he doing it?

“Calm down..” you mumbled softly so he pulled away and glared at you as let out a small growling noise, using the sleeve of your cardigan you wiped the blood off his cheek before you grabbed his forearm.

“How can I be calm when my thoughts are filled with images of you in compromising positions” he smirked as he spoke so you rolled your eyes even though his words made you feel aroused.

“Come with me” You dragged Daemon by the arm as you led him out of his room and down the hallway. As you passed by the other patients and colleagues, you noticed their shocked expressions. You didn't care, though,he was hurt and in need of medical attention, you didn't care about whatever he had done to receive this treatment.

As you reached the clinic on the second floor the nurse took one look at him and made him sit down to patch up his wound.

“Are you hurt as well?” She asked you as she looked at the blood on your neck so you shook your head and asked for a medical wipe to clean the blood and you constantly felt his eyes on you, he kept staring at you and a part of you wanted him to look away, you didn't like it when he was looking at you like that as if he wanted to devour you whole.

Once he was patched up, you asked him to walk with you, it was lunchtime and you had to be in the cafeteria for your duties but on the way you bumped into Dr Vis instead and it instantly raised your blood pressure up, and definitely not in a good way.

“What is going on here if I may ask?” He questioned you, his voice strict and tone authoritative.

“The patient seemed wounded so I took him to the nursery” you answered him so he smiled but his smile never felt genuine, it never really reached his eyes, everytime you looked at him these days you felt a sense of foreboding wash over you.

“Where are you taking him now?” he asked as he crossed his arms behind his back like a school teacher.

“Cafeteria..it's lunch time for patients” he let out a small laughter as you answered him.

"No need for that. His lunch privileges are revoked for the day, and he will spend it gardening instead," Dr Vis declared, his tone firm and unrelenting. You looked at him in disbelief, not understanding why he was being punished so severely. "Once you have completed your duties, I want you to supervise him as he plants hundred hydrangea seeds in the back garden," Dr Vis ordered. "Any less than that and he will not be served dinner tonight," he warned, his eyes still locked on Daemon's as if he was taunting him

“Why me?” You asked him and that made him turn his head towards you

“Pardon me?” He glared at you so intensely that you didn't want to elaborate and question as to why he wanted you to watch him suffer when a guard could have done this job more appropriately.

“Nothing..I'll be free in an hour doctor” you mumbled politely so Doctor vis gave you a smile and watched you walk past him and Daemon..

“You really think I'd make your life easier while you're acting up?” He asked Daemon as he grabbed his arm to lead him to the back garden.

You turned to see Daemon one last time before he was escorted away, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of confusion and hurt. You took a deep breath and made your way to the cafeteria, feeling a sense of unease settle over you. You couldn't shake the feeling that punishing a man of that size for so many hours without food was cruel and not to mention extremely inhumane..

Once you were free of your duties, you went to the pantry and wrapped up a sandwich carefully before placing it into the pocket of your cardigan.

As you reached the back garden, he was on his knees digging small holes for the seeds and it made you want to hug him and comfort him. You looked around and didn't find anyone else there, not even Dr. Vis.

“Why are you being punished?” You asked as you sat down on the nearest garden chair so he looked your way and took a few sniffs “Asks the one breaking the rules herself”

You looked at him confused as he said that.

“What do you mean?”

“That sandwich in your pocket can land you in big trouble darling” he mumbled as he got back to work so you sighed. How was he able to just guess these things? Perhaps he had some sort of psychic intuition or maybe he was just observant like that.

“What did you do?” You asked him again so he chuckled in response.

“Pissed off someone and got punched”

“Why do you do it Daemon, it's not going to make your life any easier?”

“I can't help it, when I feel something.. I say it.. subtlety isn't in my nature”

As he spoke, a realization dawned on you, he was really honest and straightforward, even if it got him into trouble.

“Don't you miss your family out there?” You asked him a personal question so he shook his head

“Why not?” you questioned again hoping to get more information about his life before he got here.

“Lost mum when I was 4, father was never around, older brother raised me but I'll never satisfy him, I'd never be what he wants me to be” his voice sounded heavy with sadness and perhaps under different circumstances you could have offered him a hug.

“I'm sorry, I know what it's like to lose a parent” you mumbled as you picked on your nails again so he turned his head to look at you.

“Your mother wouldn't want you to fuel that nasty habit”

And you stopped picking immediately

”She worked here, didn't she?” He asked you so you nodded in response, he must have heard about it somewhere.

“How did she die?” He asked you so you sighed, you never liked thinking or talking about it.

“She died here.. heart attack they said”

“And you believe that?” He asked you so you looked at him confused

“What else should I be believing?”

“I don't really know yet”

“You're so strange you know that” you couldn't help but smile.

“Is that a bad thing?

“No ..it's not” he gave you a warm smile as you said that. You watched as he spent the next hour diligently planting 100 hydrangea seeds. After he was finished, you had to report it to Dr. Vis before Daemon was allowed to go back to his room and rest.

“Eat this, there's still time for dinner” you passed him the sandwich so he looked at it with a mixture of gratitude and curiosity before taking a bite and savoring the flavor.

Later that night as you finally got in bed you had even more puzzling questions than you had a day before. The feathers, the hair, how he was so intuitive, how he was burning so hot all the time, nothing made sense to you. There was something wrong with him but you weren't able to figure it out.

You had almost drifted into sleep when you heard a knock on your window and your heart went still. As you sat up you couldn't really believe your eyes, Daemon was on the other side of the window, standing so daringly on that narrow ledge. He was absolutely crazy, you couldn't even deny it anymore.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You asked him as you pulled your window up and pulled him inside carefully so he won't fall down to his death.

“Everything” he mumbled as he cupped your cheeks and you froze in your spot, how did he even get up here? Sure you lived a floor up but one would have to know how to walk on walls to directly reach the window.

“How did you get up here?” You asked him sternly so he placed his forehead on yours to calm down, his jaw clenched in anger in frustration.

“You ask stupid questions darling”

He pulled away from you and walked past you so you glared at him.

“Stupid? Is it stupid for me to want to know how you climbed up a floor and ended up outside of my window in the middle of the night?” You crossed your arms so he tilted his head as if to mock you.

“It's common sense really which you don't seem to have or perhaps denying it all makes you feel normal about yourself”

You glared at him in bewilderment as he said that.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You asked him so he approached you and grabbed your hands on his own before he locked them behind your back, you were starting to get used to how physical he could get with you.

“Denying the truth makes you feel sane, it makes you believe that you're different from these people you tend to all day long. Am I wrong, hmm?” He asked you so you looked up at him

“Are you calling me crazy?” You asked him so he snickered in response.

“No no no no..I'm merely suggesting that perhaps you're gullible, only capable of seeing things from a shallow perspective, despite my numerous attempts to show you the truth”

“And what is the truth? That you're a half fucking dragon?” your voice raised in a mix of anger and confusion.

For a moment, you thought he was going to lash out at you as his grin faded into a scowl. Instead, he answered calmly,

“Perhaps i am”

“Then show me, become one, right here right now” you challenged him and his jaw clenched

"It's not that easy," he snarled, his jaw clenched in anger.

"Why not?" you pressed him, your voice shaking with frustration.

"It's not," Daemon repeated, his tone barely above a whisper, as if he were ashamed of his inability to show you the truth.

"Well, then you need to stop with your bullshit," you snapped, your anger evident in your every word. "And stop coming into my room like this, you'd make me lose my job,”

Your breaths were getting heavier as you spoke angrily, it was part anger and part your close proximity with him.

“Is that what you really want? Want me to leave you alone?” he asked you with irony dripping from his voice.

“Yes” you mumbled sharply so he let go of your arms and instead of using the window he used the door to step out, he didn't give a fuck about being caught honestly.

Next morning you didn't even attempt to clean his room but when he didn't come out for lunch or tea time in the evening you couldn't stop yourself from checking up on him.

So, after taking a shower and changing into a dress, you cautiously made your way to his room and knocked twice on the door before stepping inside.

As you entered the room, you found him sitting upright on the bed in the darkness like a creep, with the only light coming from the bathroom. He had his elbows placed on his thighs, his chin situated on his clasped fingers and he was staring into the bathroom even though he was clearly aware of your presence

“I thought you didn't want to see me anymore” he mumbled as he kept staring into the bathroom so you approached him and stood in front of him, blocking the only source of light, you kind of looked like an angel to him with the glimmering shine of light surrounding you.

“Go downstairs, it's dinner time” you mumbled softly so he looked up at you and smiled.

“I'm sorry I got so ..heated last night” he mumbled softly as his eyes raked over your figure, your shift was over and he noticed the green dress you had worn, he brought his hand forward and ran it over your shin so you stepped back a little as his touch sent a shiver down your spine.

Despite the tension between you two, it felt like there was an unspoken bond that had developed over the past few days.

“Can't stay away from me can you?” he asked, smugness palpable in his voice. You could feel your hands clench into a fist but definitely not from anger.

“I'm just worried about you as a patient” you mumbled softly, almost seductively, he was such a bad influence on you.

“Mmmhmmm” he mumbled as he trailed his fingers up your bare skin but as soon as he had touched your bare thigh under the dress, you slapped his hand away.

“You're being inappropriate” you looked him in the eye as if to warn him but as his hands went under your dress again you involuntarily placed your hands on his shoulder, fingers digging into his flesh, eyes rolling back into your head.

“I have been inappropriate with you since the very first day” you let out a moan as his fingers danced back n forth, caressing your soft flesh near the inside of your thighs, his touch almost made you want to lose it all, every nerve in your body felt altered.

Your opened mouth and the look on your face only turned him on beyond belief,

He placed his other hand on your waist and pulled you closer to his face and then he pressed his nose against your clothed intimate area, your fingers curled around his neck as you let out a deliciously tortured moan that you had been suppressing all your life.

“Ohh you smell good enough to eat darling”

He breathed in deeply and let out a growl as your arousal filled his senses, fingers trailed under your dress again and this time he caressed the back of your thighs, his fingers moving upwards slowly to caress those plump cheeks but he was holding back. It took everything in him to not throw you onto his bed and make you belong to him, he had to control for your own sake.

He wanted to ruin you very slowly, more and more every passing day, make you so desperate that you'd beg for him to touch you.

Suddenly the intimacy of the situation was too much for you, and you felt the tears welling up in your eyes, that's when you backed away from him, pressing yourself against the wall so he got up and approached you. He didn't want you to feel afraid of feeling things, he didn't want you to be so scared of feeling intimacy.

“Calm down sweet girl” he mumbled as he grabbed your chin to make you look him in the eye.

“I can't..I can't breatheee” you mumbled quietly so he kissed the tip of your nose,

“You can..keep looking at me”

“No this is wrong ..it's so Wronggggg..I'm being so bad and so wrong” he could tell that you were feeling overwhelmed so he cupped your cheeks and caressed your cheek with his fingers.

“Shhhhhhh darling shhhhh” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around you and finally pulled you into a hug, a proper hug, his body felt hotter than the sun as you got on your tip toes and placed your head between the crook of his neck, but it did calm you down a little. You had never been embraced this way so you couldn't even decipher what you were feeling in the moment. Once your breathing had calmed enough you pulled away from him to look at him.

“What's bothering you more, the fact that it's forbidden or just the idea of being touched by a man?” He asked you as you pulled away slightly, his thumb ran over your cheek as he wiped your tears, he found you adorable when you acted this way, the urge he had felt to protect you that night only became stronger in that moment.

You couldn't bring yourself to answer immediately, feeling your mouth go dry but then you responded meakly.

“Bothhhhh”

“When was the last time you touched your cunt darling?” You raised your palm up to plant it on his lips as he asked you such a dirty question like that.

“Shut up ..you can't talk to me like that” you had intended for your voice to come out as a warning but then it sounded as if you were teasing him instead.

“What about dirty movies hmm? Ever seen one? Ever watched a man fuck a woman? Or a woman sucking a man's cock?” he mumbled as he grabbed your hand and placed it on his bulge, your heart almost stopped beating at the gesture, he was so..hard and huge, it made your head spin.

“Please Daemon” your voice barely came out in a whisper so he smirked in response.

“Why are you so timid hmm? Did you get caught? Mumma caught you touching yourself as a teen?” You slapped him lightly on the cheek so he snickered.

“Once she did..but that's not the reason” you told him honestly as you didn't want to play games, you didn't know how to do it. Him on the other hand, you couldn't tell if he was really interested in you or just plain bored. His gentle touch felt both soothing and alarming at the same time, like he was trying to lull you into a false sense of security.

“Tell me the reason then” his voice was firm as he questioned you.

“I don't feel it..i have never felt sexual attraction before” he looked at you as if he was not surprised but at the same time he seemed curious.

“To a man?”

“To anyone.. I don't feel attraction, i don't picture myself kissing anyone or doing other things with them..i haven't done it all my life” you had never told anyone about this, and you knew you shouldn't have been revealing such personal things to him, a patient nonetheless, but you couldn't help yourself, you were so painfully aroused right now that it hurt.

“Then what do you think of when you're grinding your pretty cunt against a pillow at night? Hmm?” His breath was hot against your face as he murmured and you were only able to moan in response.

“You haven't thought about anyone in your life..Until I got here, you have been thinking about me since then and I know that” he mumbled confidently so you shook your head even though you looked stupid doing it. You had to control yourself, you knew you had to.

“You're so full of yourself” you mumbled like a bratty child, making him smirk

“Uhhhuh and don't you want the same? Don't you want to be so full of me as well?”

“No.”

“Very convincing..Fucking is in human nature darling, that's how we have evolved, and you want to get fucked i know” he told you as he brushed his thumb over your lips “But that's not enough for you is it? It's not.. you want to be loved, you want to be swept off your feet and serenaded, you need a man to show you what romance feels like” you couldn't help but smile genuinely as he said that.

“Too bad you're a dragon”

As much as he wasn't expecting the quip when he was trying to seduce you he did appreciate the humor.

“Half dragon. Half man. Don't fool yourself sweet thing”

You got on your tip toes and kissed his bruised cheek before you pulled yourself out of his grip to leave his room.

On the way out you noticed that the bars on his windows were pulled apart, making you stop in your tracks and you turned around to face him once more. You knew he was strong, but only someone with a level of superhuman strength could have done that.

“Make me believe that you are what you think you are, if you care about me, make me feel it, if you think my eyes are closed then open them for me, if you want me to be your friend and believe your truth, show me the truth, show yourself to me” you said to him confidently and a smile curved the corner of his mouth.

“Aren't you afraid I'd drive you as insane as I am?” You chuckled as he said that, there was a touch of threat and intimidation in his voice.

“You scare me but I like it Daemon” you gave him a sultry smile before you finished your sentence “That's what I think about when I'm pleasuring myself at night”

😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Taglist

@anukulee @ammo23 @littledark11 @stupidthoughtsinwriting

@daenny-t

[katyawriteswhump]

the freak in the penthouse part 3.1

E-rated (for sexual content), accidental millionaire eddie/sex-worker steve.

On tumblr: Part one Part two or search #thefreakinthepenthouse

On AO3

3.1 Cracks in the plasterwork

Eddie was vegging out front of the TV, watching a rerun of Star Trek, when a knock sounded. Shit, shit, SHIT! He was literally naked and he’d not ordered anything on room service.

Not till later, at any rate. Eddie glanced at the clock. Only four pm.

He grabbed a bathrobe. Despite Steve’s brutal early wakeup call, Eddie had gotten more energy than in an age. Life really did feel less of a gloom-fest today.

Even if his self-loathing still throbbed like a bitch.

A voice sounded from the corridor. “Uh, Mister M… I mean, Eddie? You there?”

It was Steve! Already? Eddie threw both the doors wide. “Greetings and salutations. You’re mega-early.”

“Yeah. Sorry. Can’t stay. The main elevator guy’s off sick. I’m stuck there all day.”

Eddie was seriously cracking up. In his bellboy hat with its little strap under his chin, Steve was ridiculous levels of adorable. And fuckable. Which was all kinds of wrong.

“No sweat, Stevie.” He reined in his giggles. “I’m up for a quickie in your elevator, if that’s all that’s on offer.”

It was a joke. Steve sighed. He looked exhausted, kinda shadowy around the eyes. “I finish at eight. I’ll be here as soon as I can. Listen, I’m really sorry. I think I dropped something here last night. Can I, erm… have a peep, see if I can find it?”

“Sure.” Eddie stepped aside.

Steve rushed first into the bedroom, throwing himself flat to look under the bed. “The chambermaid’s been and gone,” said Eddie. He already felt like a total a-hole for laughing at Steve, who seemed genuinely stressed out. “Don’t think she picked anything up that wasn’t my usual trash. What did you lose?”

“Oh, nothing.” Steve hurried back across the lounge area and into the restroom. “Well, actually, it’s kind of important. It belongs to a friend… Oh, thank God.”

Eddie arrived at the restroom door in time to receive an epic view of Steve’s butt in his deadly-tight uniform pants. He was crawling to retrieve something from under the spacious clawfoot washtub. “Christ, I was going outta my mind! I keep this safe for my friend, Robin—she’s a junior sous chef, and, uh, yeah, she’d totally lose her head if it wasn’t attached. Anyway, she put it in my bag without telling me yesterday, apparently. What a flake!”

Steve shoved the cause of his anguish—which turned out to be one of those blue asthma inhalers that Eddie had seen kids use at grade school—into his back pocket. His breakneck monologue seemed a bit odd, but he was all smiles now, which made Eddie relax again too. Especially as a glint of that irresistible come-hither returned to Steve’s big brown eyes.

He’s pretending, Eddie reminded himself. He’s good. This guy’s reeeeeally good at this. Unfortunately for Eddie, Steve already backed toward the doors.

“Hey, I heard rumors there’s a plunge pool in the other restroom,” said Steve. “That true?”

“Fuck, yeah,” said Eddie. “Big enough to swim in. How about we take a dip later?” Steve responded with an Oscar-winning grin and flutter of his lashes. “Oh, wait a sec.” Eddie dived to retrieve his wallet from beside a vase of fake orchids. “Here’s your one-fifty. Plus, two hundred bucks in advance for tonight.”

“Wow. Thank you.” Steve’s voice trembled strangely as he took the cash, while Eddie found himself beaming like an idiot. Steve had knocked his hat askew crawling under the bath, and now Eddie reached out and straightened it. Steve flushed slightly, suddenly unable to meet Eddie’s eye: 

“Look, you treated me real nice yesterday, Eddie. Sorry if I come across grouchy. Or pushy. I know I can be like that. They’re brutal traits, in my line of work.”

“Not a problem,” said Eddie, not quite believing how badly he didn’t want Steve to leave. 

Steve reached the doors, lightly touched the handle and glanced back. “I mean, I’m sure I can do any weird kinks for somebody as nice as you.”

“Did I tell you I had a weird kink for fucking guys in bellboy outfits?” It wasn’t true at all, but Eddie couldn’t help it.

“Yeah, right. That’s a surefire way to experience my weird kink for punching annoying clients in the face.”

Ooookay. For some reason, Eddie grinned about that for the next hour.

The silence that followed Steve’s departure was still too much for Eddie to handle. For the first time in weeks, he put on a CD—Guns n’ Roses’ ‘You could be mine’ simmering on low volume. He picked up the phone and called Dustin.

“I’m gonna go through your notes this afternoon,” Eddie told him. “Will try and get some ideas going, but no promises. Oh, and don’t you dare call this evening. I got a date.”

Eddie’s whispering demons about the half-lie were drowned out by Dustin’s screams: “Aaaaaaaagh! That’s awesome, Eddie. Hey, how about you and your date double up with Suzie and me. There’s this cool new pizza joint on Rodeo Drive—”

“No way in hell,” said Eddie. He didn’t hang up on Dustin this time. At least, not until he’d gotten a promise from his bud to send a fresh batch of decent weed over.

…

Steve reached Eddie’s suite, slightly out of breath, at seven minutes past eight. He still wore his uniform, minus the hat. He really couldn’t risk another night rushing around dressed like a hooker.

Kline had already swiped fifty dollars off him—a ‘cancellation fee’ that he’d demanded Steve charge Eddie. If the slimy son-of-a-bitch discovered Eddie hadn’t chickened out and that Steve had taken the ‘job’ himself, Steve would be out in the gutter.

On the other hand, thanks to Eddie, Steve had been able to put in an order for his prevention meds. That would take the pressure off his rescue inhaler. He already craved that cool, fresh feeling in his lungs, as those expensive pills did their thing, opening up his airways. He’d put the rest aside to pay off a little more of last winter’s hospital debt. 

Shame about lying to Eddie earlier, but hey, who’d wanna hire an asthmatic call-boy? And last night had gone fine, so why worry now?

Eddie opened the door with a megawatt grin. Damn, Eddie was stupid levels of adorable when he smiled. “Hey.”

“Hey there.”

Fortunately, Eddie no longer wore that hideous Hugh Hefner bathrobe. Instead, he wore a pair of black silk boxers and nothing else. He slouched against the door frame, and indicated with his head that Steve should enter. Steve snapped his mouth shut before he drooled.

“The plunge pool is getting hot and steamy,” said Eddie.

“Great.” Steve stepped into the room, tugging apart his collar, stripping his shirt off. “Sorry about the uniform, I uh—”

“Gotta confess,” said Eddie, “I miss the eye-liner… Woah!”  

Steve had peeled down his pants to reveal a teeny pair of denim hotpants. He kicked his clothes across the room, rolled his shoulders back and shimmied his hips… in sync to a very faint beat.

“You’re red-hot, Baby.” Eddie moved close, slid his hands to clasp Steve’s butt, where the super-tiny shorts cut off half-way up Steve’s butt cheeks. They also cut in like cheese wire, particularly now Steve started to grind the bulge around the front of them into Eddie.

“You broke your no-music rule,” he murmured into Eddie’s ear, arms looping up around Eddie’s neck as they swayed to the unfamiliar rock song.

“My penthouse," whispered Eddie. "My rules.”

...

Part 3.2

(Likes reblogs and comments much appreciated and will feed the bunnies🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕)

On tumblr: Part one Part two or search #thefreakinthepenthouse

On AO3 All my ST stuff on AO3

[bloomingdayswithyou]

Hello! Can I request scenario or headcanons (it's up to you) with N who meets his childhood crush (gn!reader) who came back from their hometown Paldea after a long time. And it's their meeting after a long time, they catch up and both of them still have feelings for each other. Reader has meowscarada as partner pokemon and meowscarada sees that they both pin on each other so tried to set them up (or helps to N ask reader out) bc wants to see it's trainer happy.

(sorry that it's so long but I've been thinking about this for days)

Enchanted Reunion

Pairing: n x gn!reader

Words: 642

Warnings: none

A/N: idk how did this one turned out?? I hope it’s good enough🫣

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the bustling city at Unova, N found himself wandering through the streets with a sense of anticipation. He had heard whispers, rumors that a familiar face had returned to the city after a long absence. And deep within his heart, he hoped that those rumors were true. His heart raced as he finally spotted the silhouette he had longed to see. There you were, standing on a street corner, your smile as radiant as he remembered. With a quickened pace, N approached, his heart pounding in his chest.

"y/n!" he called out, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and delight. You turned toward the sound, your eyes widening as you met his gaze. "N?" you exclaimed, your voice tinged with disbelief.

The two of you closed the distance, and before you knew it, you were wrapped in a warm embrace, the years apart melting away in an instant. N's arms encircled you, his touch sending a rush of familiar comfort through your veins.

"It's really you," N murmured, his voice soft as he held you close. You pulled back slightly, gazing up at him with a fond smile. "I can't believe you're here. It's been so long." The two of you spent hours catching up, sharing stories of the time apart. Laughter filled the air as you recounted childhood memories, and N's eyes sparkled with genuine happiness, his heart swelling with each moment you shared.

As the night deepened, you mentioned your partner Pokémon, an enigmatic cat Pokémon known as Meowscarada, who had been by your side all this time. N's curiosity was piqued, and you reached into your bag, releasing the Pokéball that held your beloved companion. With a flash of light, Meowscarada materialized before you, its form an imposing yet intriguing sight. N's eyes widened in awe as he observed the unique Pokémon.

"Meowscarada," you said affectionately, "meet N. N, this is Meowscarada." N regarded the Pokémon with a mixture of wonder and respect. He extended his hand, allowing Meowscarada to nuzzle against his palm, its presence both captivating and mysterious.

"An extraordinary Pokémon," N mused, his voice filled with admiration. Meowscarada's keen gaze shifted between you and N, as it seemed to sense the connection that lingered between the two of you. There was an unspoken understanding in its eyes, a knowledge of the feelings that had endured over the years. Unbeknownst to the two of you, Meowscarada had sensed the mutual affection that still bound you and N together. It was as if the Pokémon could perceive the emotions that danced beneath the surface, the unspoken longing that had persisted.

In a whimsical and calculated display, Meowscarada gracefully moved towards N, its bípedo form swaying like a dancer as it brushed affectionately against his side. With a flourish, it then turned its attention to you. Meowscarada's movements were deliberate, its actions a clever illusion, encouraging both you and N to embrace the emotions that pulsed beneath the surface. As it lowered itself gracefully, you felt a gentle touch – a reassuring caress of its leafy mask against your cheek, a gesture that seemed to transcend the boundaries of the physical and the magical. In that moment, Meowscarada's enchanting aura enveloped you both, guiding you towards a deeper connection and a shared acknowledgement of the unspoken feelings that bloomed between you.

N's gaze met yours, a mixture of emotions swirling in his eyes. Meowscarada's actions had ignited a spark of courage within him, an urge to finally express what he had kept hidden. "(Y/N)," he began, his voice soft yet determined, "there's something I've wanted to say."

Your heart raced as you met his gaze, your curiosity piqued. "What is it, N?"

With a deep breath, N took a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. "From the moment we met all those years ago, my heart was captivated by you. And even though time and distance have separated us, my feelings have only grown stronger." A rush of emotion surged through you, your heart pounding in your chest. "N…"

"I don't want to waste any more time," N continued, his voice filled with sincerity. "I want to be by your side, y/n, not as just friends, but as something more." Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized that the feelings you had held onto for so long were reciprocated. With a smile that radiated happiness, you nodded, your voice filled with warmth. "N, I feel the same way."

In that moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you and the towering cat that had orchestrated this heartfelt confession. Meowscarada watched with satisfaction, its mission to bring two hearts together accomplished.

As N pulled you into a tender embrace, you felt a sense of completeness that you had yearned for over the years. The city around you seemed to come alive with a newfound magic, and in the presence of the enigmatic Pokémon that had silently championed your love, you and N embarked on a new chapter of your journey – hand in hand, hearts entwined, and a future filled with boundless possibilities.

.

.

.

[hitlikehammers]

intimately entwined

rating: e (but not how you think) ♥️ cw: the deepest intimacies in the most unexpected places knocking someone on their ass  ♥️ tags: established relationship, care-taking, casual intimacy, fluff, relationship development, slice of life, idiots in love

for @steddielovemonth day three: Love is wanting to do everything with someone, even if its nothing special

and yes, again: these boys probably grow up to star in the rockstar-husbands-with-the-sex-toys fic je ne regrette rien which will have a sequel flavoured revival via @subeddieweek in April whaaaaaatttt

“Another.”

And the way it’s said: it’s almost fucking expectant too, Jesus Christ, this man.

“You’re sure this is okay?”

Because, like, Eddie needs to know it is. He needs to check, then double check, then triple check because…because this feels like a wholly different step, y’know? This feels like crossing a kind of line they haven’t even dared to tiptoe near just yet, wholly different from all the other lines they’ve navigated, both reckless and careless but together, always, and that helps, in theory. It helps to know that no matter how they’ve fumbled or triumphed in this, between them: it’s been hand in hand. Before, and during, and after.

Still, though. This is…this just feels very fucking different. The kind of boundary with implications that feel heavy and expansive under Eddie’s ribs. Maybe it should seem less monumental compared to other shit they’ve done, and most of that with far less deliberation and hesitation for them, at that. But this does, it…Eddie genuinely believes this pumps weird and novel through his veins, because it is different; and incredible for it, no question. Terrifying. Wholly beggars belief, honestly, and Eddie never really understood that phrase meant but.

He thinks this thing fits it, to a T.

“I said it was, didn’t I?”

Eddie blinks, recenters: was it okay?

And this, this…brilliant perfect little shit: Eddie can hear the smirk in his voice without even looking. He can hear the amusement as much as the loose-ends of frustration. Like Eddie is being absurd here.

Which: what the actual fuck; seriously.

Like, like: goddamn seriously.

“Yeah,” Eddie answers, a little hesitant, a lot fucking dazed; “yeah you did,” because…he did. From the beginning, from even before they settled int to start this: Steve had been…vocally enthusiastic. Not that Eddie hadn’t been! He’d mostly just, he’d just been—

“You think I’m fucking with you?”

Again: without having to see Eddie clocks the eye roll, the not-even-subtle challenge in it.

Alongside the nugget of genuine hurt held for if it turns out true and that: no.

No, Eddie will not fucking have that, so.

Okay, he won’t have that, but also first:

“I mean, yeah—“ because umm…their sex life is a little undeniable.

Steve snorts; how. How

“Here and now, jackass,” he snipes back and Eddie…Eddie really and truly doesn’t fucking know what to do with this. How cal, Steve is. How focused and dedicated to the task. How monumentally and profoundly, just…

How this is sitting in his chest as so much more than the rest of it somehow in a way Eddie cannot wrap his mind around to understand and it’s frightening. Not understanding something so clearly and intimately important; so clearly fucking intimate.

“Not exactly,” Eddie ultimately settles on speaking rather than continuing to gape, continuing to stew in his terror as his heartbeat picks up but speed, it comes out more choked than he’d been hoping; less convincing by a mile as a result. “I don’t think you’re fucking with me like, like it’s something intentional,” and Eddie seeks out Steve’s gaze directly then because that’s it, that’s the hurt part he needs to root out and not crush to bits because he doesn’t crush any part of the man he loves, ever; no.

No, Eddie needs to root that out so he can draw it into the pounding in his chest warm and safe to be cradled and adored until it snuffs itself out in contented fucking joy, for being loved right. Like it deserves.

Which might be part of the problem in the present case just: this time it’s a problem for Eddie.

“Like not mean or anything,” he reiterates, to make absolute sure of this part too; “I just…”

Steve watches him as he struggles to put any part of it into words, can’t even move, or fidget like this: caught, and kinda giddily so underneath everything else, and maybe he needs to lean into that base sensation, see if he can chart his way out from the center versus stumbling around the sides:

“It can’t be, like, enjoyable,” is what he ultimately settles on saying as clear as he came because honestly, that sums up the bulk of it.

Plus he’s learned by now to trust Steve to reach around his rougher edges and find the heart of his meaning, or else, and probably more often: hold his hand as the send out a search party between them for the right words.

Because that’s still it, isn’t it: together.

And of everything else, Eddie doesn’t have to even pysch himself up to trust in that; it just it. It comes natural like breathing.

“Umm,” Steve draws out, a little incredulous; “why not?”

Why not? Why isn’t this exchange clearly one-sided?

“Because,” Eddie tries to find his words, or at least some of them: “I guess, what do you get out of it?”

Steve’s the one glancing to lock their gazes and Eddie…Eddie doesn’t feel ashamed where he might have early on. But he recognises the similar dive where it still lives in his stomach for the gentle warmth that Steve stares into him. Like he sees Eddie’s question, and loves Eddie enough that he won’t dismiss it.

“One more,” Steve instructs confidently, just-shy-of-demands.

“Steve—“

“If you hate it we never have to do it again,” Steve counters; a compromise; “promise.”

“That’s not—“ because fucking hell, as if Eddie could ever hate it.

“One more,” Steve reminds him with the patience of a saint and…Eddie’s moving almost without any thought for it at all, like his body runs the way of his heart and moves for Steve be rote, which.

Kinda, yeah.

“Blow,” Steve’s instructing and Eddie’s doing the moving-by-instinct-because-Steve-says thing again; knows he’s blinking owlishly as he purses his lips and does as he’s asked.

Blows. Ever-so-gentle.

“Okay,” Steve assesses and then grins: “okay, that’s it. Perfect.”

Eddie won’t fucking argue. Not least because it’s true.

Though he’s more invested in the perfection looking up at him like this.

“Verdict?”

And okay, Eddie thinks maybe he has words now, at least inside his head: intimacy wasn’t something he’d ever had before Steve, and frankly was never something he was hanging hopes on ever getting, again—before Steve.

But it wasn’t just because he didn’t have other options that Eddie banked on intimacy equalling sex, either. Because once he did have Steve, it just shifted to the idea of sex as a way of showing love. The more of himself he could give to Steve, the more intimate they’d become: the more of him that was Steve’s for the taking, the more of Steve he look reverent into himself, body to body: that was intimate. That was a relationship, how it looked as it grew. First time Steve came inside him. First time Eddie licked him open. First time he fucked Steve’s gorgeous goddamn thighs.

That kind of thing.

But Eddie’s not sure even the heaviest, headiest sex has ever left his heart as much of a thumping, fluttery mess as just this, which doesn’t feel like just anything: Steve. Sitting in front of him. With a bottle he drove out to Indy to get just for Eddie. Because Eddie wanted it. Because Eddie would like it. Because it might make Eddie happy and it did, it really really did, and—

Steve’s just painted his fucking nails the most gorgeous shiny black, only the slightest bit straying off on the skin, too, and it’s somehow hitting Eddie deeper than the first time they fucked, the first time they stretched each other open, the first time they 69’d in the sheets.

This is apparently what knocks Eddie on his ass for just how deep the love goddamn goes.

“That.”

“Hmm,” Eddie hums, blinking back to the moment where he was busy getting caught up in the new revelation of what intimacy looked like, not to mention caught up in admiring his nails: “what’s ‘that’?”

And Steve’s smiling beatific, incandescent, as he pokes Eddie’s cheek, no, more specifically: as he pokes Eddie’s dimple.

“What I get out of it.”

And Eddie flushes hot under Steve’s touch, then, as it all adds up and seeps in strong enough to shake his core before reshaping him from the inside out as Steve taps the little divot in his skin playfully:

“That.”

Which is how Eddie realizes full on and forever, probably something he already knew, just somewhere under the surface: the intimacy was the sharing of the joy. And in love, especially a love like this one: joy itself is the payoff.

Joy, like everything, is shared by default.

Eddie lifts his eyes, meets Steve’s smile so wide, and relishes the color on his nails as a sign of it for seeing; relishes the dizzy cadence pumping in his chest as proof for the rest of him, to feed and nurture this depth of loving for all the simple things, undimmed and forever until his heart stops doing anything at all. Because there is no pay off, even if there is always something to get out of it. Out of all of it.

Because love is them; together.

Intimately entwined to the goddamn cells.

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland

♥️

divider credit here

[anderscim]

well, now that the first (and second, but i wrote this before seeing the second) episode of chapter 2 part 2 is out, there is one major thing i should address:

✦ what the fuck, david?

// spoilers for DRDT up to ch2 ep12 + implied tally5 spoilers

is there much else i can say here, honestly?

as you can probably tell already, this is more of a reaction post than anything.

i'm simply just... kinda surprised by some of David's actions here. especially regarding his view with Xander. saying that he’ll “do anything to follow in Xander’s footsteps” (paraphrased) even if it means stooping down to the lowest of lows for it, insisting that Xander was a good person, even claiming that his attempt to kill Teruko (and the rest of the class) might’ve been justified… it's almost as if more than anything, David holds Xander to what's nearly a position of worship. i knew from the start that David idolized Xander to some extent, but i never expected it being this… intense. it’s kinda as if he doesn’t see Xander as human, you know?

but do you know what finally makes sense now as a result of David’s behavior?

…

that’s right. tally fucking 5.

or more specifically, the text under the image. i won’t show it to you guys, but most should hopefully know what i’m talking about. (*･ω･)ﾉ (if you don’t, feel free to send me a DM and i can help you there!)

//spoilers for tally5

• • •

firstly: it’s (as far as this episode goes) very true that David idolizes Xander to all ends—and seems to have a vague idea about his goal in ending the killing game (or at least, killing Teruko). and that because of this, David himself took action to follow that goal, even if it meant looking like a “villain” to the rest of the cast. (the reason he told Teruko after that was definitely made up on the spot, but his sentiments about Xander when he was starting to explain why he acted the way he did were—as far as i’m aware—quite genuine).

secondly: he couldn’t understand what Xander’s true plans were, or the exact reason behind his attempt to kill Teruko, but he holds Xander to such a morally correct standard that he… pretty much concluded that he must’ve had a justifiable reason behind it. (and so far, we know that Xander had a reason at the very least. it’s unknown if it was justifiable, but it definitely is a reason.)

thirdly: well, i think this is self-explanatory.

pay attention to how David says “it’s an action that you have to take.” almost as if it was an obligation for him, and that he couldn’t have done anything else.

fourth…ly? this is just something very clearly implied within the LGI MV—the drosophila, the albino mouse, and other elements used show that David more or less sees himself as a “model organism” and not exactly as a true human in its actual meaning. his pessimistic and cynical view of the world (as we saw from ep11—even if he did exaggerate it a bit in his theatre-kid heel-turn, i think he still believes it to be true) adds to this even more—if even humans can’t change, David definitely wouldn’t be capable of ever becoming human in the first place.

5. that’s why footnote 13 is associated with correctness. because no matter what happened, David will believe that Xander was a good person. he will continue to believe that what Xander did was right. and it will take him a while, if it even happens, for him to view Xander as an actual fellow human being, not as a idol of morality who was always correct.

———

obviously, this is more of a reaction that i just casually wrote at 3am, so not everything is really polished. also, who knew i’d talk about the LGI MV again? or tally5? wow, i’m really getting some nostalgia here.

i don’t even know if i fully agree with some parts in here. (-_-) but hopefully, this helps get my point across.

as always, take this with a grain of salt.

[drdemonprince]

Autistic friend anon here — thank you so much for your answer and the substack post. I was kind of stuck in the “rejection” feeling of “wait but if being autistic isn’t a bad thing then why are you so upset at the idea that YOU might be autistic”. I took it really personally and wasn’t really thinking about how much it sucks when someone acts like they know you better than you do. I’ll have to keep working through that.

I also often get stuck in the idea that “well if someone had just TOLD ME I was queer/trans/autistic then I could have figured it out sooner and life would be better” or whatever. But after many years of being out as queer/trans, I think that isn’t actually true and even if it is, I don’t interact with other possibly queer/trans people by “diagnosing” them with queerness/transness any more. In my head it seemed like autism was different for some reason, but of course it is not.

Anyway, your answer was really thoughtful and diplomatic, while also being very clear about what is bad behavior on my part. It is genuinely going to be a big benefit in my life.

Hey, nice to hear from you again!

I totally feel you. When I told a friend years ago that I thought she might be a BPDer, I was incensed that she ended up not taking that comment well. I meant it in an affirming, pro-Mad-Pride kinda way! I was a BPDer too! if she thought it was bad to be BPD, what did that mean she thought about me?

But I was looking at it the wrong way. I had just hurled a still very stigmatized label in her direction as a response to her complaining about real relational struggles in her life, which felt diminishing and presumptive. Telling various people in my life that I'm pretty sure they're Autistic can have a similar effect, even if they're on board Autism acceptance as an idea.

I used to fixate on the time I lost not realizing I was trans or queer or whatever the fuck I am yet. I had a vision of an older me materializing before me at age 16, specifically on the corn-lined roads I used to bike up and down furiously, and imagined telling myself the Truth of who I was and what I had to do to be happy. I believed that if i had known I was trans younger I would have avoided a lot of upsetting relationships, eating disordered periods, and general angst.

Now. I am pretty damn sure that is not true. It turns out that being trans was not a solution to all my problems, it was just another problem that I had. In the sense that it's a challenge to navigate on this bitch of an earth. if i hadn't chosen to be trans i would have chosen some other shit to do that also would have been a major pain in the ass i'm sure. that too would have been an interesting back story.

I dont think I was ever going to be outgoing and unneurotic and breezily well adjusted. That's not my lot in life. Feeling a little uncomfortable in my body and around other people is as definitional a part of me as my wit or my weird laugh. I can kinda love that about myself now, or at least accept it. nothing and nobody actually could have saved me. its just not that simple. but it's been a pretty interesting life.

i think we tend to impose our self-narratives onto other people when we are not happy or we are harboring deep regrets about having gotten something wrong or missed something in the past. but we cant spare our friends those journeys. they should get to have them. it's interesting and enriching to get things wrong, be in denial, cope in elaborate stupid ways, soul search, change our minds, miss something, find something, never know what's true.

[inuhalfdemon]

No One Can Know... (13/?)

Word Count = 3,883 Words

Rating = Mature (Sexual Content/Humor)

Chapter 13

I know we said that sex isn't love

But it seems like enough for us

I know we said that we're having fun

But, I'm getting too numb to your touch

- BAD OMENS

Fanart posted in fic belongs to:

@honestlynotgonnalie (Tumblr)

@honestlygonalie (X/Twitter)

Please stop by and give the artist some love!!!

Alastor gave an exaggerated groan. “Ugh, this is most unpleasant.” He said, sinking himself further into the hot water and foaming bubbles; his arms draped limply over the sides of the extravagant clawfoot bathtub, his legs fully outstretched and submerged as he leant back languidly – completely relaxed.

“Funny, I was just thinking that you looked like you actually might be enjoying yourself.” Lucifer told him; he laid reclined against Alastor in the tub; his head resting on Alastor’s lower chest, looking up at him. “You’re certainly less skeptical now.”

“Well, when you asked me to ‘take a bubble bath’ with you; I assumed it was something sexual that you were wanting.” Alastor remarked.

“From ‘bubble bath’?”

“Luci…most everything you talk about is sexual. I really don’t think that I was very far off the mark when I took your offer with a fair bit of caution.”

“Hm, true.” Lucifer allowed. “And, I mean…we are both naked.”  He added suggestively.

“There is it is.”

Lucifer chuckled. “I’m surprised you humored me, actually.”

“I’m not opposed to trying new things, and all kidding aside, this is quite lovely; especially after the week we’ve had.”

It had been a week since the hotel had begun making its preparations in defending against Heaven’s planned attack. Three weeks until extermination. All residents had taken on extra duties and tasks in preparing Rosie’s cannibals for the onslaught, fortifying and re-fortifying defenses, assembling and distributing weapons and carefully evaluating their strategic plans when applied to a wide variety of possible in-battle scenarios.

“So, bubble baths are a new thing for you?” Lucifer asked, half-teasing.

“No, not really. But, having a bubble bath with the King of Hell…that’s something novel.”

Lucifer tilted his head; then, he shifted himself forward his back leaning away from Alastor now, absently swirling water and bubbles with one claw.

He was getting better at reading Alastor’s tastes in….intimacy. He knew Alastor was naturally independent, that he was often touch-averse and felt easily smothered if too much attention was directed toward him; physically and emotionally. However, his mood was a spectrum and it varied greatly; even from moment to moment, but he had subtle indicators that Lucifer was learning to pick up on that clued him in to what he might expect.

His ears seemed to be the best tell-tale. If Alastor was feeling especially touch-averse; his ears would stand up, perfectly straight – neither rotating, flicking, lifting or raising; never reacting to things said or things done around him. Lucifer suspected that Alastor – whether intentionally or unintentionally – refused to outwardly express himself in these moments. The fact that Alastor kept his tail constantly hidden – for the most part - made Lucifer believe that it was intentional, namely due to the fact that his tail was a dead give-away to his moods, it’s movements likely more involuntary in it’s signaling. If Alastor was feeling open to being touched; his ears were all over the place – constantly moving, tweaking or turning; openly and overtly expressing himself.    

The trouble with reading Alastor, though, was that he was rarely one way or the other. He often gave mixed signals; the expressions on his face – apart from the eternal smile – and the expressions of his ears regularly contradicted each other, and it was hard knowing which one was genuine. More often than not, it seemed that Alastor himself couldn’t tell what kind of a mood he might be in until they were already doing things. Alastor often tolerated some touch but rarely felt like being intimate. Lucifer, himself, craved touch and affection so they both were left with finding creative ways to meet each other’s needs partway. Alastor worried that this might prove frustrating to Lucifer, but so far, the angel seemed pleased to have a challenge to occupy his time and mind with. 

The bubble bath they currently were enjoying together was just one example of this. As intimate as it was: Lucifer’s only physical contact with Alastor was the touch they shared simply by being with each other; Lucifer sitting or lying against Alastor in the tub. Lucifer wasn’t being invasive to Alastor with the exploration of his hands; nor did Lucifer press him for anything like it. It was something that – for now – suited them both perfectly.

Alastor shifted behind him and Lucifer turned to look when a sizeable tentacle lifted itself; emerging and dripping wet form the water. It hovered for a moment before rising and sliding over the edge of the bathtub and slithered itself beside two rubber ducks Lucifer had sitting decoratively on a bathroom counter. The tentacle curled around the little ducks; picking them up and pulling them to Alastor.

“So what’s with these anyway?” He asked. “I’m very curious to know.”

Both ducks were made to have cutesy little bath caps on, different only in the colors of the caps. Alastor regarded both with sharp and interested eyes before the tentacle stretched and flicked; dropping both ducks into floating and bobbing in the water with them.

“Uh…nothing. They’re…well, it’s really just a stupid little hobby…you know.” Lucifer shrugged against Alastor; poorly feigning nonchalance.

“Mmmm…’stupid’ is not a word I would have thought to use.” Lucifer turned, looking back over his shoulder at Alastor.

“You’ve clearly spent a great deal of time and thought in making them – and there are many. They must be important to you, significant - in some way…” Alastor explained. His tentacle was slithering in and out of the water; playfully moving around the ducks like it was some sea monster of lore; threatening their little lives. “I would be more inclined to call it…endearing more than anything.”   

Even Alastor was able to admit to himself that Lucifer’s nonsensical, naïve and childish parts of his personality were starting to grow on him. But, much like Alastor…Lucifer had his own puzzles to be worked out; and Alastor had every intention of finding and completing each one.

Lucifer sighed; lifting one of the ducks into his hand – water trickling between his fingers as he held and tilted it.

“My original angelic form – my natural form – was something very similar to a duck. I lost it when I…when we fell from Heaven. I can’t even shapeshift myself into a regular duck. I started making them as a kind of a joke and fun little gifts for Charlie when she was smaller but then, I uh…I don’t know. I got good at making them and they made me feel like…like I was doing something; creating something for an intent that could never be misread as nefarious or result in any true form of failure if I made a mistake.”

Alastor listened; absorbing his words in silence.

“Heh, like I said…it’s stupid.” Lucifer slid his hand back into the water and the little duck bobbled over to its counterpart.

Alastor’s tentacle lifted itself from the water; touching Lucifer’s face and turning it so that he was looking directly into Alastor’s face.

“No. It’s remedial and it’s beautiful.” Alastor told him, softly. “Take pride, my King. There is strength in healing.”

Alastor’s tentacle released him and Lucifer looked back to the ducks; feeling the sting of tears - and a small smile on his face.

“Can I ask you a question now?” Lucifer poked at one of the ducks; sending it bobbing away from him.

“You may.” Alastor allowed; his smile genuine.

“What is it that you be gaining from your deal with Lilith? If not power…what exactly do you want when you are all done with this?” 

“She hasn’t told you?”

“No, she wouldn’t.” Lucifer shook his head. “She takes her deals in private and keeps them that way; even from me. I’m also not the sort of person that would ask her to tell me something like that.”

“Hm…well, please forgive me; but I’d rather keep that fresh little tidbit between Lilith and myself.” Alastor was playing with the ducks again; this time he was using his tentacle to swirl water into a miniature whirlpool; the ducks sliding in and spinning in a chaotic fashion.

“Somehow, I thought you would say that.” Lucifer turned, giving Alastor a narrowed and suspicious look.

Alastor laughed.

“You’re free to offer up any theories you may have; I’d quite like to know what you come up with. What I will tell you is: I doubt it’s nearly as nefarious as you might expect.” He paused. “Then again, that may be partially untrue. I could just be biased.”

“That makes…no sense.”

“Yes, well, I do love to be shrouded in mystery.” Alastor chuckled. “But, do get to know me better, Luci, and I’m sure you could venture a guess.”

“Isn’t that what we are already doing?” Lucifer asked him.

“Why, yes. Yes, it is.” Alastor replied, obviously unwilling to say much more on the subject Lucifer was prying him for.

“You’re such a dick sometimes.”

Alastor snickered at this.

Moving; he pulled Lucifer into him – holding the angel firmly against his naked torso.

“Quite, right too.” He said, lowly.

Done with the ducks; his tentacle dipped below the water and bubbles in the bath; snaking itself in-between Lucifer’s legs.

Lucifer tensed as it briefly touched him; sliding itself against his hidden but erect length.

Alastor sighed; his breath wafting against Lucifer’s wet skin as Alastor leant his head down.

“Have you been this hard for me this entire time, your grace?” He clucked his tongue. His grip tightening; holding Lucifer firmly to him as the tentacle slowly and purposefully wrapped itself around the devil’s shaft.

“Let me take care of that for you….”

Lucifer gulped.

“No zapping.” He quipped.

Alastor chuckled darkly against him.

“No zapping.” He promised, moving the tendril – pushing and pulling, sliding and slipping…

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

The next morning found them in Alastor's room at the Hazbin Hotel; both beside the small dining table that Alastor kept placed within his personal bayou.

Alastor stood with Lucifer – without his jacket and wearing shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows; drinking his coffee while Lucifer tried to make heads-or-tails of the doodling Alastor had done. The messily made sketches were for the plans involving the first few waves of cannibals who would be defending the hotel.

His steaming teacup forgotten, Lucifer leaned closer - trying to mentally separate the strategic notes scribbled into the drawings from the chaotic mess of doodles depicting: torn off wings, decapitated heads and a very concerning amount of bright yellow blood that was supposed to be coming from the angels that were being ripped apart by a hoard of cannibalistic demons.

"There is something wrong with you." Lucifer sighed, giving up all show for efforts when he noted the detailed doodle in the corner that he could only assume was: caricatures of Alastor and the Overlord Rosie, both enjoying the spilled intestines and organs of an eviscerated Adam; dining together as if he were a main course pasta they were sharing while at some high ended restaurant.  

Alastor flashed him a wide and insane grin before there was a knock at the door. 

They both froze, looking at each other with the exact same expression and nodding to each other. Lucifer waved his hand and the tea and cup he had had on the table vanished. With a soft poof, he turned into a small white snake and quickly slithered himself into a large bunch of reeds growing nearby. Alastor's shadow went with him, offering further concealment. 

Alastor crossed from the bayou, into the main room and opened the door to his room. 

"Why, Charlie!" He greeted happily. "To what do I owe the pleasure!?" 

"Hey, Al!" Charlie smiled back at him, seeming a bit nervous. 

"I know it's been a very busy week already and there's still lots more to be done,” Charlie acknowledged. “But, Vaggie and I were thinking that it might be good to keep up with some of the bonding and trust-building activities we had going, to...you know, build up some camaraderie among the ‘troops’!" She cheerily word-vomited at him, throwing a mock swinging punch there at the end for unnecessary emphasis.  

"I think it is a grand idea, my dear." 

"You do?" Charlie asked him, waiting for the backslide. 

"Of course! Nothing like a good rallying before a battle!" 

"Oh, well...yeah, that's the idea." Charlie smiled as she pulled a loose strand of her hair back, feeling pleased by his support. 

Lucifer's snake form lifted its head, tilting it back and forth in a mocking gesture and rolling its eyes. Alastor wasn't sure if Lucifer realized it were possible, but Alastor could clearly see the sassy display through the proximity of his shadow.  

"I actually hoped that...well, I'd very much like it if you came. We've missed you at the last several ones - I know you've been busy, of course! I didn't mean-" 

"But, of course, I'll come! Why, I'd be delighted to!" He told her, enthusiastically. "Anything to get me out of another godforsaken strategic meeting with your father. You know how I just abhor the man..." 

"You were meeting with my dad today?" 

"That was the plan, but I'd much rather kiss a basilisk if I’m being honest." 

Lucifer tilted his head, trying to decide if that was an insult or a compliment. 

"When is this activity you have planned?" 

"We're hoping to have everyone gathered in the lobby in one hour." 

"Splendid! I will most unfortunately have to reschedule something with your father.” Alastor actually giggled. “Oh, don’t look so disappointed for the man. There will be plenty of time for such unpleasantries." 

"Was my dad coming here? " 

"Mmm, yes. Yes he was. " 

"What if you asked him to join us?" Charlie asked him, tentatively. "I know you both don't always get along but he's helping with all of the preparations too...it might be good for everyone to get to know him better and he can see more of what I'm aiming to do..." She continued. "Then, after we're done, you both should still have plenty of time to discuss those plans you were wanting to. Sir Pentious is heading fortifications today and Angel's going to be teaching the cannibals some basic brawling stuff with Husk so we should be covered." 

Alastor gave her his widest, pointiest and false-ist smile – clenching his teeth - knowing it made him look insanely unhappy about the idea, but still having to smile through it all anyway...: "Lovely..." His radio voice crackled sharply.

Lucifer's snake form flicked his tongue, agitated as he watched Alastor manipulate his daughter with such smoothness. 

"Hehe." She laughed nervously. "Cool beans, I'll see you at the meeting." 

Charlie stepped away and Alastor closed the door.

He walked back to the table within the bayou. Lucifer slithered out from the reeds, pausing beside the table. Alastor's shadow darted past and dipped to another dark corner of the room. 

Lucifer's snake form lifted itself, hissing at Alastor. "You really ssssssssssuck ssssssssssssometimessssss, you know that?" 

"Do you really have to exaggerate your S's like that while in that form?" 

"No." 

"Then, ssssssssstop it." Alastor spat his own tongue out at the snake, wiggling the end of it in a suggestive manner.

"Hey!" Lucifer's snake head turned, as if feeling flustered by the gesture. 

"I didn't know snakes could blush like that." Alastor teased him. "It's rather cute." 

"I will crawl up your leg and bite your balls if you-" 

"What's got your tail all in a knot? I thought you wanted to spend time with Charlie." 

"I do, and I have been since she first invited me here! But...." Lucifer shifted form and Alastor could see that he was visibly stressed.

"It's a....social event....gathering.....thing. I'm not good at those." 

"Really, I never could have guessed." Alastor deadpanned. 

"It's not funny, Al!" Lucifer barked at him. "I get all...anxious and sweating and I –“ He gripped the lapels of his jacket. “And, I'm really trying with Charlie but, I still can't talk about the hotel and the other residents already have this warped perception of who I am or who I should be and-" 

Alastor leaned over, reached for Lucifer and pulled him to him; kissing him hard on the mouth. Lucifer froze; having to take deep breaths in through the nose when Alastor didn’t let him go right away. When Alastor did release him, Lucifer was left dazed and blinking but…quiet.

“Better?” Alastor asked him, a small smirk on his face.

“Yes…thank you.”

“Don’t get so hung up on all that small stuff. Charlie knows that you’re trying and who gives a fuck what the others think. Besides,” Alastor tilted his head; smiling wickedly. “I plan on being such a total and complete ass to you, down there; you’ll have your hands full as it is.”

Lucifer gave him a small smile.

“You know…”Lucifer started and Alastor rolled his eyes, already knowing where this was headed. “We’ve got lots of time before-“

“No.” Alastor told him, firmly. “But, what we could do is: go over the actual strategical plots and plans I have made instead of me just fucking around with you all morning.” He grinned.

“Oh, you…little prick.”

Alastor chuckled and snapped his fingers. The doodles on the table were sent away; replaced by various documents for them to study and peruse over until Charlie’s planned activity. 

An hour later, everyone was gathered into the lobby of the Hazbin Hotel.

Charlie and Vaggie had set out two large, long tables with some chairs for the residents to use; stacks of paper and cups filled with crayons, pencils and pens all placed throughout. Lucifer was already happily chatting with the two women when Alastor strolled through the door and into the room; a giggling Niffty perched atop his head.

“First off, I want thank each and every one of you for all of the hard work you’ve been doing to get things ready for…well, for the upcoming extermination day.” Charlie flinched once she said it but then pressed forward. “There’s a lot more to do of course but I thought it might also be really important to work on some solid team building! You all know each other a little, of course. What I want you to do today is: draw or write something about another person that you find most significant or valuable in them as an individual; what about that person is special to you? I also think it best if we split up into assigned pairs: Vaggie and Cherri can be one…Angel and Husk, Sir Pentious and Niffty; and then Alastor and my dad!”

The groups started forming; Vaggie and Cherri bumped fists while Angel and Husk exchanged smiles. Niffty’s grin widened; showing a row of razor sharp teeth before she excitedly leapt to Alastor’s shoulder, darting down and joining Sir Pentious.  

Of course… Lucifer thought to himself, dryly.

Lucifer sighed; moodily going to sit down in a seat at one of the tables. Setting his hat and jacket down, he slipped a piece of paper from one of the stacks, staring at the blank surface.

Vaggie watched him go; then saying something to Cherri, she moved over to Charlie.

“Hey, hun. Can I talk to you for a second?” After pulling Charlie to the side she asked, “Are you sure this is such a good idea?” She pointedly looked to the table where Lucifer was seated.

As they were talking, Alastor smoothly drifted into shadow; slipping down into the floor and lifting up again to rise and materialize at the other side of the table; across from Lucifer. Using one claw; Alastor dragged the blank piece of paper over to him; reaching for a crayon with his free hand. He toppled the cup; ignoring the mess of scattered pens and pencils – he concentrated on his scribbling.

“I mean, we talked about this, Vaggie, and you agreed with me that we should try make sure everyone was involved in the activity.”

“Yes, but I didn’t realize your dad would be coming…” Vaggie told her with concern “Alastor and your dad? They barely stand each other as it is… There’s other pairings we could make.”

Lucifer leaned on one elbow, staring boredly off into space. Curious, he glanced down at what Al was working on but Alastor slid his hand over the doodle; preventing Lucifer from seeing it. Rolling his eyes; he turned away.

Fanart by @honestlynotgonnalie

“I know that Vaggie but…in a few weeks they are going to be fighting with each other…it’s kind of important that they learn to get along. Besides, they’ve been strategizing formational plans together...how much could they really dislike each other?”

Finished with his doodling; Alastor set his crayon down and flipped the page up. Smiling widely with eyes pressed closed; he proudly presented his piece to Lucifer:

Alastor had doodled a goofy looking caricature of Lucifer: depicting Lucifer with a rather large head and a much smaller body. Drawn beside the doodle made was a small arrow – pointing to the messy sketch of Lucifer from the words, scrawled beneath, that read: “WIFELESS”.

Fanart by @honestlynotgonnalie

“I don’t know…maybe strategizing is all the bonding they need.” Vaggie suggested.

Turning his head; Lucifer saw the drawing; taking in its meaning. Without hesitating he glared at Alastor and flipped him the bird. Alastor’s smiled widened; peeking a look at the King’s response narrowly from his left eye.

Fanart by @honestlynotgonnalie

“It’s…important to me that they learn to work it out.” Charlie confessed to Vaggie. “I honestly think they could really get along if they gave each other a chance.”

Vaggie sighed. “You know your dad better than anyone. As for Alastor…” Vaggie leaned past Charlie; watching as Alastor quickly set his drawing down; adding to it with the crayon and flipping it back up for Lucifer to see. He displayed the exact same doodle; only now it had a middle finger added to one of the stick-ish hands. “Well, nobody knows Alastor. Let’s try it your way. See what happens.” Vaggie gave in. 

Vaggie went back to where Cherri was and the group activity proceeded.

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

Later, when it came to present their projects:

“Uh, what am I loo-, oh fuck.” Vaggie.

“Ah, fucking shit!” Cherri – happily laughing.

“Oh, dear…” Sir Pentious, lifting Niffty and covering her eye.

“Whoa…”  Angel – eyes wide and a large smile stretching across his face.

Husk stepped away; carefully restraining any response he had to the intricate sketch that Lucifer had made.

Charlie squeezed in beside everyone, wondering what all the fuss was about.

“Wha-“ Charlie gasped and then hissed; “DAD!!!”

Lucifer and Alastor were standing apart from the group. Lucifer was standing with his back straight – chest out, and a wide toothy smile across his beaming face, clearly proud of himself. Alastor stood bent, leering very closely to his face…a dangerously dark look to his insane and smiling face, one eyelid very visibly twitching.

Lucifer had sketched a remarkable rendition to Swiss artist Henry Fuseli’s oil painting: The Nightmare. Only it wasAlastor who was depicted lying across the bed in a suggestive manner rather than a woman; his tentacles curled and rising around him in place of the typically symbolic incubus and horse. One tentacle held what looked to be his staff – the end of it aimed and placed directly into a rather obscene bodily location.

Lucifer had titled the intricate sketch: The Dildo

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

The Nightmare:

Chapter 14

[trashbag-usa]

it feels like a lot of people have given up on fully connecting ISWM/Engie Mark to the wider lore (aka WKM) since IRL Mark straight up told us he wasn't Actor.

but not only am i a stubborn son of a bitch, but yknow what Mark also said?

"Engineer Mark isn't Actor Mark, but Actor Mark just might be Engineer Mark."

so hear me out, y'all.

preamble; if you saw this in a yt comment section, no you didn't. (that was also me i didnt steal this i prommy-)

i have this entirely insane theory about iswm that Engineer Mark is actually Damien, but only sometimes.

the most obvious places i can spot him is in the abandoned ship with the candles ("captain needs their sleep" and whatnot), as Old Mark (specifically in the empty diner), and most definitely as the "Mark" we see as part of the finale, the one who realizes he was wrong.

Actor is allergic to admitting fault so I Don't Believe That's Him.

this explains the thematic focus on sleep and rest in these scenes, things told to Damien and told to US by DARK several times.

("Don't remember" anyone?)

speaking of Dark, it explains why he isn't there. we DO however see the suspiciously Darkiplier-esqe Ms. Whitacre, which it isn't controversial to say atp is CLEARLY Celine.

that is, until the universe does its final kablooey and Dark as we know him, Damien attributes and all, comes to take the warp-crystal.

and besides, think about it.

given Actor's whole goal in all this, as laid out in the Damien Project, do you REALLY think he would write a story in which all problems arise from HIS OWN NEGLIGENCE? NO!

that would make him a villain, and all he ever wants is to be portrayed as the hero, literally for eternity!

but you know what i think he would do? set up a farce for the most troublesome of his "co-stars".

you, the viewer, want genuine choices? you want to have some real control over the story? some responsibility? FINE.

everyone looks to you, but under your leadership everything goes wrong, no matter what. you don't know why, but you're actively villinized and the harder you try to go back and fix things, achieve an "ending" on your own, the more people HATE you. the more the thought that maybe there IS something wrong with you specifically will stick in your mind as a possibility.

all these options, but none of them "right", creating MORE suffering instead of fixing it just to find that ever elusive end.

damien wants control of the narrative? he wants his old friend, you, the District Attorney to be released from his eternal story and given back to him? FINE.

here's his role back in earnest, given the possibility to engage and choose instead of intrude and twist like usual.

(yes, i do think Damien/Engineer is genuinely going down his own hopeless path while we find our own. in one of the descriptions leading to the final "Hold On/Let Go" confrontation, it says "you're not the only one making choices. you're not alone, you never were".)

he is allowed to fight for the safety of others, side by side with his closest companion, just as they did when they were alive.

BUT, the twist is Damien becomes a genuine villain. in his quest to do the altruistic thing and help at all cost, he is personally responsible for the death of LITERALLY EVERYONE EVER.

this is a personal hell for someone like Damien, as seen from WKM, all he ever seemed to want was help others and guide them towards peace.

for his actions/leadership to fail so unthinkably catastrophically, seems like the exact hell a bitter Actor would want to subject his "old friend" to for meddling. :/

Actor sets the stage for a theatrical punishment game. Mayor and Attorney, together again, taking an impossibly long stay in a personally crafted hell for the horrendous crime of ever even thinking they'd be worthy of ✨️staring roles✨️.

Actor turns you two against each other, and once Damien is brough down to the depths of despair and you have finally learned that true responsibility can lead to catastrophic, painful results, we're brought back to our proper places.

you go to a proper ending, with the Engineer role now being played by Actor once and for all, and Damien once again becomes part of Darkiplier, pocketing the warp-crystal to plant on the box in Heist.

Engineer isn't Actor, it's a role he plays when it suits him and his goals, to make his enemies suffer. he's willing to be Damien's understudy, if only for this purpose.

but at the end of the journey, Actor becomes Engineer to take in the fruits of his labor. ..and maybe invite you to a Heist while he's at it.

BUT HEY, THAT'S JUST A

very long winded """theory""" that is pretty much only insane fanfiction-

[omegalomania]

no ok like. i know this is The YBC Blog and all but i really truly need to go off about how GENUINELY fucking fascinating the whole "young volcanoes" video is on a metatextual level. like the entirety of the youngblood chronicles says a WHOLE hell of a lot about the band in terms of the metaphors it's painting wrt the hiatus and reformation and the fact that they took this particular song (sonically incredibly airy and cheerful, lyrically desolate) and turned it into the dinner party from hell. this is a story where an external force chops up the lead singer and hollows him out and then serves his organs to the rest of the band. theyre made to consume him, literally, against their will!!! and thats not all!! they are vividly hallucinating at this point, because theyve been heavily drugged - again, against their will! - and they see this whole thing as a joyous affair. in their blitzed out brains, this is them reuniting after the harrowing experience of being kidnapped off the goddamn streets! and then they have this fucked up trippy GROUP HALLUCINATION where they are literally EATING PATRICKS ORGANS. and in the real world, none of them can see this happening - except patrick. patrick is not blindfolded. patrick can see them being forcefed his own viscera and he's too fucking high off his ass to do anything about it. in fact, in reality, he barely acknowledges his bandmates at all.

like just thinking about this from a metaphorical perspective. its fucking fascinating innit. the band literally cannibalizes patrick against their will, and he cannibalizes himself against his will, and they are all made to believe this is something that they want to have happen. they are misled and drugged into this. they eat him alive. they eat him ALIVE. and they are made to think they're having a great time doing it.

the band consumes itself for the seeming entertainment of the onlooking vixens. and they don't explore this through the avenue of pete, who the rest of the band regularly cites as the creative impetus behind the band, but through patrick, the voice. the mouthpiece. the one who sings the words. this is the third fucking video they released when the band came back from hiatus. and its this. it is the band being forced to consume the lead singer and primary composer from the inside, and him participating in this forced consumption.

it makes me grip my head and scream. we witness this horrifying incident so early and things only get worse and worse from there. for all that patrick kills joe and pete later in the narrative, they have patrick's blood on their lips first, staining their mouths, slicking their insides. and, like the case with patrick, who has been warped into something violent, they don't do this willingly; it is done to them. we see what true and genuine hatred of music and creativity has motivated the vixens to do. and in contrast we see, by the story's end, the thesis statement that the defenders of the faith love each other beyond any earthly horror that can be inflicted upon them. how unbelievably unfathomably fucking captivating for this to be present at the very start, this warped perversion of that kind of love. what else is friendship and brotherhood but this. what else is love at its most destructive and possessive than this. we are friends, we are brothers in arms, we are companions until the bitterest of all bitter ends. we have wrought immeasurable horrors upon each other. we have consumed each other. we have eaten each other alive. we all have each other's blood on our hands and in our mouths. if save rock and roll is the brightest and most elevated declaration of love imaginable, then young volcanoes is the darkest and most twisted. we don't want to be here. we're having the time of our lives. we're trapped. we're screaming. we missed you. we are better together. we are destroying each other. we love you. we love you to the most twisted and horrific and absolute endpoint imaginable. we love you. they won't let us stop loving you. we love you. they won't let us stop. we love you.

[arclundarchivist]

A meeting of Exandria is definitely something I am deeply curious about. Also very happy to see Grog again.

Curious to see where this goes.

The chance for interaction between the Gods and the Party, hearing what has happened while the party has been gone. The chance for interaction between the Gods and the Party, hearing what has happened while the party has been gone. I’m expecting some possible solo interactions outside of a big group deal, because Orym seems more and more intent on the Wildmother, and I really want to see Kord/Groon and Imogen interact again.

Hearing the Dynasty’s perspective on all of this.

Glad we are hopefully fucking done with Delilah.

And I do honestly kind of want to see them interacting with the Titan in some way.

But man I am getting frustrated with Ashton again.

Laudna seems to have come around, and seemed genuinely shocked the Wildmother showed her any kind of interest.

“She wanted you back on your feet.”

Which flies in the face of Ashton’s certainty the Gods are gonna “Smite us all with impunity the moment we leave.”

I just, how can he be so fucking dense about the chaos that would follow upsetting the world as it has been for eight fucking centuries

There are so many things that could rise to fill that vacuum, most of them are terrible, and could grow stronger in time with the absence of the Gods. Belief seems to grant some manner of power to those that claim divinity for their own.

It’s why the Traveler began to change and why Zehir smacked down Uk’Otoa.

With the main gods gone, with the betrayers gone, who would the mortals that need faith turn to? What is stoping those entities for being the answer to their prayers?

And with the Matron and Vecna vanished on the wind or dead, whose to say the secret of what they did can’t get back out there for others to discover, if not other paths to divinity?

What replaces them, because something will. Despite all his fucking platitudes part of me thinks that is what Ludinus is after as well.l or am I supposed to believe magical cannibal master manipulator is just gonna pass on true authority?

And as I was saying before, and confirmed by Matt again in the after show, Tharizdun isn’t from Tengar.

It’s not a Betrayer, it’s not even truly a Divinity.

It’s a big cosmic thing that just showed up during the Calamity and nearly made the bad worse

If it’s not a God, and has no ties to Tengar, and Predathos, at least according to Ludinus, is only after the gods what the fuck stops it from becoming the top dog?

From taking all the desperate and maddened who just lost all they believed in and send them after the now abandoned keys to its cage?

Like Chetney said. It will be all out war.

A war not for survival.

But Supremacy.