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katsu28 · 2 months ago

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summer's golden haze - chapter six

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: a love confession, a PR scandal, and an explanation (5.2k)

a/n: don’t hate me for this folks 😅 things are going to be fine with our favorite couple, don’t worry! (or are they??? guess you’ll just have to read and see mwahaha)

previous chapter | masterlist

Somehow Lando convinces you to stay the night with him after spending a little quiet time together at his place once the jet lands, instead of going home like you’d originally planned. You won’t go into detail, but it involved little talking and a lot more kissing.

He lets you shower off the nightclub musk first, and only when you’ve made yourself comfy in his bed can you shoot a text to your friends.

You: staying at lando’s tonight. no need to wait up for me, he’ll drop me off at ours in the morning

Samira: ouuu get it girl

Maren: be safe wear protection etc etc

You: GOD no not like that you perverts

Camille: sure 👍🏼

Camille: is he reading over your shoulder? WE’RE ONTO YOU NORRIS.

You: i hate you guys ❤️

Maren: why are u still texting us go spend time with ur man

“Everything good?”

Lando’s toweling his hair dry as he walks into the room, wearing only a pair of shorts. He’s a bit sunburnt on his chest and shoulders from today, but he’s still got that aftersun glow about him as he makes his way over to you. He collapses dramatically beside you on the mattress, wasting no time in sprawling into your space with a content sigh.

“Yep, fine. The girls say hi and goodnight,” You say airily, putting aside your phone. Lando lets out a noncommittal hum, too busy with making himself comfortable next to you to form a response. In the end, he finally settles with an arm thrown across your thighs, face pressed into your side snugly.

Your fingers trace the dip of his spine gently, coming up to brush over his reddened skin. “You’re all burnt, Lando.”

“Sun cream is for wimps,” He mumbles, words muffled. “I’m tough.”

“You might rethink that when your skin starts to peel.”

“Did you have fun?” He asks, changing the subject in favor of aiming a hopeful smile up at you.

“I did. I still can’t believe you’re friends with Martin Garrix, though.”

Lando chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re still hung up on that?”

“Uh, yeah! Normal people usually don't know world famous musicians!”

“Guess I’m not normal then, am I?”

“No, you’re not,” You hum, pushing his damp curls away from his forehead. His face screws into an overdramatically offended look that makes you giggle. “You’re not normal, you’re better.”

“Good save, that,” He mumbles, face morphing into what has to be the most fond, heart-melting, doe eyed expression you’ve ever been looked at with.

What you say next seems to fall out of your mouth before you realize just what you’re doing. All you know is he’s gazing at you like you’re holding up the moon and the stars, and suddenly it feels like exactly the moment to say what you’re thinking.

“I think I’m in love with you too.”

Funnily enough, Lando’s eyes widen the same way Max’s did when he’d accidentally told you. “What?”

“I love you too,” You say, though a little more unsure this time. There’s a key difference between your first and second confessions, but saying it out loud the first time only solidified what, deep down, you think you’ve already known.

You love Lando. You’re in love with Lando, and you want him to know.

Only now he’s staring at you like you’ve just told him some deep dark secret that he wasn’t supposed to know, which definitely isn’t the response you thought you’d get from him, and it makes your brain kick into overdrive.

Max had seemed entirely genuine at the time, but maybe he was just messing with you. Maybe your entire relationship with Lando was some sort of a prank, or god forbid, a fucking bet. The thought had crossed your mind at the beginning, but you’d shoved it aside because Lando was so charming and so painfully your type that you were willing to take the leap.

Less than two weeks. It took less than two weeks to fall in love with the boy in front of you, less than two weeks for you to put your heart into his hands and pray that he wouldn’t break it. The heart that he’d already wormed his way into and made his home.

It’s definitely fast, you’re fully aware of the fact. At the beginning, you weren’t expecting to get into anything serious. Telling yourself you’d let things play out, let whatever was to happen happen, prepared to leave any and all thoughts of Lando behind if things didn’t work out.

You didn’t actually think you’d end up in love with him, and for some reason, it scares you more than you could’ve ever imagined. There’s something terrifying about falling in love, but something even worse than it was him not feeling the same.

“How did you—” He stops mid-sentence, looking so utterly floored you’ve figured it out that you forget any and all previous doubts of Lando not sharing your feelings. “Have I been that obvious?”

“Max let it slip.”

He lets out a groan, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily before opening them again. “Max couldn’t keep his mouth shut if his life depended on it, the twat.”

“Y’know, he said the same thing,” You giggle quietly.

“Because it’s true! His big mouth has been getting me into trouble since the day we met.”

“Do you think falling in love with me is trouble?”

“No! God, no, absolutely not,” Lando insists, shaking his head. In one fell swoop, he manages to shift the both of you so you’re on top of him now, sitting on his thighs with a leg on either side of him. His hands travel up from your waist to cup your face in his palms reassuringly. “The opposite, really. I think you’re the best thing to ever happen to me. I just…I wanted to tell you on my own terms. Had it all planned out too.”

“Oh yeah?” You hum, hooking your fingers over his biceps. “What'd you have planned?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teases, grinning from ear to ear. You make a pleading noise from the back of your throat, but he just shakes his head, zipping his lips with an imaginary key and pretending to hold it high above his head.

You play along, going to reach up for it, but Lando leans forward, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. It’s a total distraction move, and it works. You forget all about what his plans could’ve been, the thoughts quelled by his mouth on yours, kissing you sweetly.

Your hands slide over the broadness of his shoulders without thinking, fingertips pressing into lean muscle to keep yourself upright.

“Ow, fuck—” He hisses, pulling away from you with a wince. Thinking you’ve hurt him, your eyes go wide. “Sunburn,” He explains hastily.

You scramble off of him. “I am so sorry!”

“No, no, it’s fine, I’m fine, let’s just—” He leans in for another kiss, but the moment is over now.

You snuggle into his side, splaying a hand over his chest. Your fingers immediately go to toy with his necklace. “What will things be like when your break ends, when we have to go back to our separate lives?”

If your question catches him off guard, he doesn’t show it. He just sighs like he’s been thinking about the same thing, rubbing a hand down your arm. “Honestly? I’m not sure. Tried not to think of it much, really.”

“It’s coming soon.” Your voice is almost a whisper, like saying it as soft as you can would make the day you have to leave each other never come. “Too soon.”

“Too soon,” He echoes sadly. “Do you—I mean, would you want to go public?”

The first answer that pops into your head is no.

No, you don’t want to make your relationship known to the public. Lando is a celebrity, and within that territory comes many things you aren’t comfortable with sharing. And it might be selfish of you for the thought to even cross your mind, but part of you doesn’t want to share Lando with the world.

You’ve gotten used to your peaceful little bubble the last few weeks, and once he returns to racing, that bubble will be popped. It might only be a matter of time before people start to figure things out, and you’re not ready for that. Until you part ways, you don’t even want to think about it.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Lando murmurs, drawing you out of your spiraling thoughts. His hand is on your face again, cradling your cheek tenderly, thumb rubbing over your cheek. “We’ll keep things under wraps. I’ve got no problems with that.”

“You don’t?”

“You sound surprised.”

“I’m not,” You say immediately. You must not sound very convincing, because Lando tilts his head in question. “I mean—maybe I am? I just thought you’d want to, y’know, go out and stuff. Press events and races, like the other drivers’ partners.”

“You’ve been looking?” He sighs, but not unkindly. More like an oh, I wish you hadn’t kind of way.

“Yeah. A little.” You feel a little embarrassed admitting it, but you just wanted to know what might be expected of you as Lando’s girlfriend.

In doing so, however, all you’ve done is hurt your own feelings. In your hours long deep dive about Formula 1 WAGs, as you’ve come to learn they’re called, there seem to be some commonalities.

They’re all brilliant, accomplished women. Some of them are models, some athletes, some businesswomen. Everything about them seems pristine and polished, always perfect. From their makeup, to their clothes, even their posture is perfect. You, on the other hand, you’re nothing like them. You’re not a model, you’re not as accomplished or as brilliant, and yeah, most of the time you slouch when you sit.

You’re just…you.

And for some reason, Lando likes you. Loves you. That should be enough for you, and you hate that it isn’t.

You hate that at the very back of your brain, the thought that you’re not good enough for him digs its way into your self conscience, burrowing deep into the pit of your stomach. It has its claws in you, and it isn’t letting go any time soon. You’re not sure it ever will.

“You’re spiraling again, baby,” Lando chides lightly, bringing you back to the present moment once more. You meet his gaze again, thinking you’ll find pity, but seeing nothing but adoration. He bumps your chin with his knuckles lightly. “I love you. Not who you think you should be.”

Your heart swells so big you’re certain it might burst out of your chest. Lando knew exactly what you needed to hear in this moment of self doubt and didn’t hesitate to tell you.

You smile at him, leaning forward to press your lips against his with all the love and affection you can muster, because words aren’t enough to explain just how lucky you are to have found someone like him.

Lando sighs against your mouth, having no hesitation in swinging himself to hover over you.

You let him nudge you back gently against the pillows, knees falling apart easily to accommodate the thigh he slots between them, and it has him pushing in even closer, chasing the breath right out of your chest with the way he’s kissing you.

Safe to say, sleep does not take you until a long while later, not until you're both wearing a lot less clothes, tangled in each other’s embrace, fighting to keep your eyes open. Lando tells you he loves you one more time before you drift off for good, a whisper pressed against your temple in the darkened room.

You’ll sleep well tonight with the ease of knowing that there is no question of how Lando feels about you, about your relationship. Everything is perfect.

-------

“No, that’s bullshit. I’m not doing that. I don’t care if that’s what they want, I’m not doing it.”

Lando’s hushed voice is what wakes you up, quiet but still sharp. Firm.

Light from the bathroom pours in one beam through the cracked door on the other side of the room, piercing the darkness of early morning. You can see him pacing back and forth too, phone pressed to his ear, and it piques your concern. Whoever is on the other side of the line has obviously said something to get him heated.

Work again, maybe?

“Is everything okay?” You yawn, squinting at him through the sleep in your eyes as he shuffles back into the bedroom after the call ends.

“Sorry for waking you,” He says stiffly. You pull yourself into an upright position.

“S’okay. What’s wrong?” Lando just tosses his phone into the mess of clothes in his bag on the chair. You’ll take that as a no, everything is not okay, and yes, something is wrong. “Lando.”

He sits at the edge of the bed, facing away from you, elbows braced on his knees. You scoot towards him, smoothing a gentle hand over his back as your chin presses into his shoulder, his skin still warm under your fingers. You’re not sure what's wrong, but whatever it is, you’re there for him.

“There’s pictures of us from the other night, at the club, and the beach. People took pictures of us together and now they’re all over social media.”

Your heart sinks. “Oh. That’s not great, is it?”

“No. Not really.”

“Was that your PR officer calling?” You ask. Lando nods. “What did they say?”

“Best to not go online today. And turn off your notifications too, because they’ll find you fast. Honestly, just turn off your phone.” He stands abruptly from the bed, away from you, pacing and muttering and raking his hands through his hair. You can almost see the cogs in his brain spinning from where you are.

This is foreign territory to you. You haven’t the slightest idea on how to deal with a situation like this one. You’re not even sure Lando fully does, given the way he’s acting right now.

Still, it feels…violating. Having photos taken of you without your knowledge or consent, then having those photos spread around like they’re some sort of gossip. Even more so because you’ve felt safe around Lando up until this moment.

Now he’s telling you to stay offline, to turn off your phone because strangers on the Internet will find you. You don’t even want to know what’ll happen when they do.

“Will you slow down for a minute, please?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. He doesn’t answer, just continues in his back and forth actions. “Can we talk about this, or have you gotten everything about our relationship figured out on your own already?”

It’s a bit petty, a little bratty of you. Of course he hasn’t gotten much of anything figured out—he’s only just been made aware of the situation that had likely progressed overnight. It isn’t something he should be having to deal with on his summer break, but he does.

He stops in his tracks, stares at you blankly, and for a second, you think he’ll sit down and listen to you. But then he’s on the move again, rifling through his bag for something. “I think I should take you home.”

You let out a sharp exhale, raising a skeptical brow. “Are you serious right now?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? This isn’t a joke, this is my image we’re talking about.” He procures a wrinkled shirt from the depths of his bag, wasting no time in pulling it over his head.

That leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You’re very aware that you have no idea what it’s like for him, no idea what it’s like to have your every move be so up for public speculation. That being said, you do know how a biting jab like that makes you feel.

“Your image!” You chuckle wryly. “Oh, I’m so sorry, you’re right. You need to keep up your image, my bad.”

There goes the tic in his jaw again. He’s still not making eye contact with you either, which irks you to no end. “Let me find my keys, I’ll drive you home.”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll just take an Uber. Wouldn’t want to put your image at risk any more than I already have.” You throw the blankets off yourself, going to find your clothes yourself.

Lando lets out a frustrated noise from the back of his throat. He’s probably just as ticked off as you are, but you're not really thinking of that right now. “C’mon, don’t be ridiculous. I’ll drive you home, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. He’s being all pissy like this and he still has the nerve to call you that. You fight to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at the nickname. You’re still getting used to it. Right now, you have a love hate relationship with it.

“Fine.”

That’s the last word said by either of you until you're almost back to your place. By this point, you've cooled down considerably. You’ve gathered your thoughts enough to realize you were being a little bitchy about the situation. He’s frustrated, you're frustrated, but it's not either of your faults.

The car pulls to a stop and the doors unlock automatically, so technically you could just let yourself out without saying anything at all. You almost do, but you don't want to leave things the way they are with Lando right now.

“I love you,” You say softly, carefully watching him for a reaction.

The clench in his jaw softens almost imperceptibly, but the crease between his brows, the set of his shoulders, the laser focus he's got on something off in the distance, those still remain.

It’s an entire world away from the way his face had lit up brighter than the sun when you said the exact same three words to him for the first time, just last night. “Text me when you get back so I know you're home safe?”

“Yeah, sure.” His voice is clipped, void of any emotion. He doesn't want to talk. That you can see loud and clear.

Still, you try again. “I’m sorry about the photos, Lan.”

“Not your fault.”

It’s not your fault either, you want to say. You want to look him in the eyes and tell him everything will be okay, that things will work out in the end. You don't—you can’t—because he’s angled himself away from you.

Tears burn at the edges of your eyes and you think you can feel your heart crack a little bit, but you will yourself to get out of the car before he can see them fall. The last thing you need is to add to whatever is going on inside his head right now.

Yeah, maybe you’d been a little combative with him at first, but at the end of everything, you love him now. You still want to figure things out together. But judging by the way he won’t even look you in the eye right now, it isn’t what he wants.

How could you go from basking in the light of newfound love to barely being able to get a word out of him, with just one phone call? A phone call about you, your relationship with Lando, one where you don’t even know what was said.

You hear him pull away as soon as you shut the door behind you.

Is it bad that a small part of you is glad he waited for you to get inside? It means he still cares about you enough to make sure you’re in safely, even though he might be upset with you.

Then you’re hit with the fact that he is upset with you, and that sliver of hope vanishes.

You sink down onto the cold tile of the entryway, back against the door. Everything was so good and now it’s all going to shit, and you hate to think about how you’ve messed things up.

“Tell us everything and don’t leave a single detail—” Maren’s gleeful shout dies in her throat the second she comes barreling around the corner and sees you on the floor with your head in your hands.

She’s quick to call for the other two, rushing to your side in a second and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“I’m gonna kill him. Do I need to kill him?” Samira sounds beyond angry. You’ve only ever seen her this angry a few times, all of which you were glad to have never been the source of.

Camille hushes Samira’s threats, kneeling by your other side. “What happened?”

“Too much,” You mumble, half muffled by the sleeve of your jumper. Lando’s jumper. You want to rip it off and chuck it in the bin, but it’s the same one he’d been wearing the first night you spent together—soft and well loved, smelling like his cologne. Instead, your hands clench into fists around the worn cotton, squeezing the material tight between your fingers.

You eventually find your way to the couch, where you remain until nightfall nears, a half empty bottle of wine sitting open on the coffee table in front of you while your comfort show plays quietly on the television. Realistically, you should be getting ready to go for a night out on the town, but you’re all in your pajamas, curled up against each other nicely.

You’d managed to tell them what was going on through tears that had stopped a while ago, but the thought of Lando putting up walls to keep you out of the situation still burns bright in your mind.

The doorbell rings suddenly and you wrinkle your nose, confused.

Camille untangles herself from the pile, squeezing your hand gently. “I’ll get it! It’s probably our food.” You didn’t even know she’d ordered dinner, but you won't complain. All this wallowing in your hurt feelings has really spurred an appetite.

But then Maren and Samira leave for the door too and you're alone on the couch, even more confused.

“Don’t get mad at us, okay?”

Your mouth pulls into a confused frown at your friends who’ve just reappeared, but then you see Lando step into the room. He looks disheveled and just like you were hoping he’s been feeling—guilty.

Your eyes flick to the girls. You don’t feel betrayed, but rather the thought of them reaching out to Lando brings you a surge of love.

They’ve always known what you need, even if you don’t know it yourself.

“You two need to talk things out, so we’ll be in the kitchen. But if you make her cry again and I’ll kick your pretty rich boy ass, I swear to—” The rest of Samira’s threat is cut off by the other two pulling her out of sight.

That just leaves you and Lando, staring at each other, expressions unreadable. He steps forward, hesitant feet bringing him to the edge of the couch, where he perches awkwardly.

“Hey,” He says meekly, shoving his hands into the big pocket of his jumper. You can’t bring yourself to greet him back. “You weren’t answering any of my texts or calls.”

He looks like he wants to reach out for you but refrains himself from doing so. You’re partly glad he does, because if he did, you’re not sure you could’ve stopped yourself from burying yourself in his arms.

Instead, you stare at him blankly. “You told me to turn off my notifications.”

Lando sucks in a breath through his teeth, head bobbing slightly. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

“You shut me out, Lando. You wouldn’t even tell me what was happening,” You grit out. You’re hurt, to say the least. You hope he knows that. “Don’t you think I have the right to know what’s going on?”

“I know. I know, and I’m sorry,” He insists, almost pleading. “I didn’t mean to shut down like that. I guess I’m just used to doing these kinds of things on my own, y’know? Usually when my name trends on social media, it’s something I’ve done. Something I’ve got to deal with the aftermath of. But now, this time…”

“This time, there’s me,” You finish, frowning.

“Yeah. It isn’t just my life I have to think of, it’s yours too. Having your every move watched and judged by people who don’t know you is the last thing I want for you to have to go through. I can handle it because it comes with the job, but you shouldn’t have to. It isn’t fair to you.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Isn’t it? We’re in this situation because of me. Because of who I am.”

“You didn't ask for this. Like you said, it comes with the job, no matter what you do.”

“Yeah, but I—”

“Lando, I’m not mad that the photos got leaked, I was hurt because you just took me home and left me here without telling me what was going on,” You say. Your voice only wavers the tiniest bit, and you fight it even more. “It felt like you didn't want me to have any input on our relationship, and that's not what a relationship is supposed to be like. At least, not one that I want to be in. I would hope you’d feel the same way.”

“I do. Baby, I do feel the same way. I love you, and I should’ve said it back in the car, I know. And I was angry this morning, but not at you, and I should’ve made that clear too. I was upset and I made some rash decisions, and I’m so sorry,” He sighs, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. When he opens them again, there's pain swirling within them. “I just wanted something to be just mine for once. I wanted our relationship, I wanted you to be that something, because in my life, everything is public. Even if I’d rather it not be, somehow it always ends up out there for the whole world to see, and I don’t want that for us. I know you don’t want that. I don’t ever want you to feel like you're giving up anything to be with me. That being said, I understand if you want to call things off.”

He doesn’t look at you when he says it, but the pure sense of defeat in his tone makes your guarded posture finally soften.

Despite how things were left this morning, the thought of calling things off with Lando had never even crossed your mind. The fact that he thinks it was enough to make you want to break up with him has every ounce of frustration you have towards him leaving your body.

“I don’t,” You say firmly. His head flies up, gaze snapping to yours, a mixture of relief and confusion. “I don’t wanna break up, Lan.”

“Thank god, ‘cause I don’t either.” Finally, he reaches a hand out towards you, and you feel okay enough to crawl over and curl into his side. He immediately presses a smattering of kisses against the side of your head that makes your stomach feel all fuzzy again. “I hate that your privacy was stripped away so soon.”

“Honestly? Part of me knew something like this might happen,” You admit, pulling his arm around you snugly. “I’ve made my peace with it.”

“You have?”

You shoot him a tiny frown paired with a sharp exhale. “Well, obviously it’s not great, but it was bound to happen at some point, right?”

“So you’re cool with it?”

“I’m not ready to make it publicly official, if that's what you're asking. But I’m…not as upset as I thought I’d be.” You shrug, humming thoughtfully. “Can I ask what your team said on the phone?”

Lando lets a mirthless scoff escape from the back of his throat. It stings less now that you know he's not upset with you for asking about it. “They wanted me to say you were just some random girl. That you were a fan, or something, and that I didn’t know you.”

“Well, that seems a little excessive.”

“Yeah, I know, I said the same thing! Nobody with half a brain would believe it either. I mean, just look at us.” He digs his phone out of his pocket, scrolling around until he finds what he’s looking for and flipping it around for you to look at.

Turns out you’d been right on the nose about someone recognizing Lando at the club. The photo is grainy and a little blurry, but you can tell it's him cozied up behind you even though his head is tipped down. There’s no mistaking that messy head of curls.

Then there’s the one at the beach, of the two of you holding hands as you walk along the shore with your heels dangling from Lando’s fingers. There’s a video too—Lando brushing your hair away from your face before leaning in to kiss you gently.

It’s still an invasion of privacy, definitely, but there's something romantic about it. Like, at least it's nothing bad. It’s just an outwards expression of your love. You might not be quite ready to share that love with the world just yet, but one day, you might.

“Y’know, if you ignore the whole gossip mill of it all, the pictures are actually kinda cute.”

“Ha! You think so?”

“Sure do. My boobs look great in the club one.”

Lando draws his lower lip between his teeth, shamelessly zooming in on the specific photo. “Mm, yeah they do, huh?”

You scoff, digging your elbow into his stomach lightly. “Stop that!”

“What? You said it, I’m just agreeing!” He protests, holding his hands up in surrender. Then he tilts his head hopefully. “We’re okay now? I’m forgiven for being a big stupid idiot?” He asks, tilting his head hopefully. You chuckle, nodding, and he beams. “Mint! Love you.”

“I love you too, you big stupid idiot.”

"Fuck, I love hearing you say that."

"What, big stupid idiot?" You tease, dodging the decorative pillow Lando swings your way.

"Funny. The first part, obviously. Say it again for me?"

"I love you, Lan," You say again, looking directly at him.

The giddy smile that curves his lips and makes his whole face brighten is worth everything to you. You'd tell Lando you love him every single day if it'd make him happy.

“Am I allowed to ask you all to come over? Max is fetching Pietra from the airport and she wants to meet you all so badly, I don’t think I’ll be allowed back in the house if I don’t bring you back with me,” He says, smile turning sheepish. “D’you think the girls are gonna try to kill me?”

“Uh, I’m not sure.”

“You’re not sure? It’s a yes or no answer, baby.”

“I’m ninety percent sure you’ll be fine.”

“Ninety?”

“Eighty five.”

“That’s so much worse.”

When you inevitably do make it back to Lando’s villa, Max and Pietra have just arrived home too, still outside as Lando pulls up right next to their car.

Max folds you into a hug once you’re in range, pausing briefly to say quietly into your ear, “I knew you’d work things out. I’d have kicked his ass if he didn’t.”

You squeeze his shoulder gratefully, because you know he’d had something to do with getting Lando to make things right.

Pietra and Lando bicker kind of like siblings, but even then you can tell they're close. He introduces her to all of you, and she instantly melds in so seamlessly with you and your girls it feels like you’ve been friends for ages, chattering away about what Max has told her about your adventures in Greece so far.

Finally, things really are all perfect in your little world.

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#lando norris #lando norris x reader #ln4 #ln4 x reader #lando norris x fem!reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fic #lando norris series #lando norris imagine #summer's golden haze

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wholoveseggs · 10 months ago

Note

Omg love your elijah stuff it's the best out there! Could you write a fluffy smut where the reader and elijah get married and she's still human and they plan for her to turn on their wedding night. But since she's about to become a vampire and knows elijah loves the taste of her the blood she has him drink from her during sex one last time and she drinks from him so after sex and aftercare his blood is in her system and he turns her then:)

Something Sweet

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

It's the day of your wedding, a day you've dreamed about since you were young. Everything is exactly as you imagined it would be, except one thing. Today is not only the day of your wedding, today is also the day you die... And you never wanted anything so badly.

♡♡Thanks for the request lovely @sarah-bear706318! I made this one super fluffy♡♡

5.5k words - Warnings: smut, oral sex, so much flufffff, blood drinking, sappy Elijah, something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue...

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

Trying to fix my tags! I re-added all of you, and now you will be posted at the top! If you no longer wished to be tagged just shoot me a DM {I won't be offended} xoxo~

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It was the day of your wedding and you were awoken by the birds chirping outside of your bedroom window. You rolled over to find your side of the bed empty and cold, a note from Elijah in his elegant handwriting.

My love,

I thought it best if I did not see you until the ceremony, as that is a tradition.

I have not been able to sleep. I am both excited and nervous for today, my beautiful wife. I will spend every waking moment cherishing you.

Elijah

You smiled to yourself as you read his words, imagining him pacing the floor as he wrote this, probably in the study or the library.

You pressed the note to your chest, you could hardly believe that you were getting married today. It was a day you had dreamed about since you were young. You had imagined what your wedding dress would look like, the flowers you would pick for the arrangement, how you would wear your hair. But now, none of that seemed important, the only thing on your mind was what came after the wedding.

Elijah would make you a vampire tonight, and then you would have eternity together.

He was still hesitant, even though you had insisted this was what you wanted. He worried that one day you would regret it, that you would hate him for it, that it would break the connection between the two of you.

But he was wrong, you knew it would only strengthen your bond. You loved him so much that it was impossible to put it into words. You would do anything for him, give him anything, including your life.

After a few moments of lying in bed and thinking of your handsome husband to be, you heard the sound of your bedroom door opening. In walked your three bridesmaids and your maid of honor, carrying a tray of delicious breakfast foods.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty!" Rebekah said, walking around the bed and placing the tray on the mattress in front of you.

"What are you still doing in bed?" Freya asked.

"Yeah, it's your wedding day! We have a lot to do!" Camille exclaimed.

You chuckled and sat up in bed, tucking the duvet over your legs. Hayley laid on the bed next to you, popping a bottle of champagne open and pouring four glasses.

"Everybody relax, we have lots of time," she said, handing you a glass. "Don't stress her out,"

Rebekah rolled her eyes and picked up a bag from the floor.

"We have some gifts for you, Mrs. Mikaelson," she teased.

"I'm not Mrs. Mikaelson, yet," you pointed out, taking a sip of the champagne.

"Oh please, the two of you act married already, he is the most whipped man I have ever seen," Rebekah said, sitting on the other side of the bed and passing a wrapped present to you.

You giggled at her comment, knowing it was true. You were a little surprised by how much he was willing to bend to your will. He was a stubborn man, but with you, he was a complete pushover. He told you once that he found it impossible to deny you anything, and that's how he knew you were the one.

You carefully unwrapped the gift and found a beautiful necklace, with a sapphire pendant, you held it up to the light, the rays bouncing off the gem and painting the walls of your room in blue light.

"It's beautiful," you said, smiling at the girls.

"It's something blue, from Freya," Rebekah explained, as Freya fastened it around your neck.

"I spelled it so you can always find each other, no matter where you are. So when you are away, you can always feel him close to you," she explained.

You were touched by her thoughtfulness, touching the stone as it rested against your chest. You couldn't explain it, but it did feel like him, like he was right beside you.

"Thank you, Freya," you said, squeezing her hand.

"Okay now mine!" Rebekah interrupted, holding her present out to you. "Something old,"

You grinned and took the large box from her, opening it to find a beautiful vintage corset, along with a matching set of lace underwear and stockings.

"Rebekah, these are gorgeous!" You said, running your fingers over the intricate designs.

"They're vintage, of course," she said, proudly. "Elijah is rather fond of that time period, I thought they might... inspire him," she added, winking.

You blushed, he didn't need any encouragement in the bedroom, you were certain of that.

"My gift is next," Hayley said, holding out her gift to you. "Something new, and I'm really sorry, but they aren't quite as classy as the last two," she said, nervously.

You took the bag and opened it, it was full of luxury naughty nightwear, baby dolls, bras, panties, a silk robe, all in different colors and fabrics. Along with a few sex toys and a pair of handcuffs.

"I had to get you something practical," she said, with a smirk.

"I love it, thank you," you said, giggling. "I will certainly put them to good use,"

"Okay now mine, it's something borrowed," Camille said, handing you a small box.

You opened the velvet box and found a gorgeous pair of diamond earrings, with a matching bracelet.

"Camille, these are beautiful," you breathed, examining the sparkling jewels.

"They've been in my family for a long time, they belonged to my grandmother," she explained, clasping the bracelet around your wrist.

You looked at your wrist and smiled, your friends were the most wonderful women you had ever met, they had been so welcoming and so supportive, and now here they were, giving you the best gifts ever.

"Thank you, all of you, so much. This has been the best morning," you said, pulling them all in for a group hug.

"More champagne!" Rebekah exclaimed, grabbing the bottle and topping up everyone's glass.

"We still have the day to go, I'm going to have a terrible hangover at my own wedding," you pointed out, taking a large sip anyway.

"Not for long," Rebekah said, a mischievous smile on her face.

The wedding party went quiet, everyone knew exactly what she was talking about, that Elijah was planning to turn you after the reception.

"It's really happening then, tonight?" Hayley asked, looking at you.

You nodded.

"How are you feeling about it?" She asked.

"A little nervous, I guess," you admitted. "But excited,"

"It's a big decision, are you sure you are ready for it?" Freya asked, putting her arm around you.

"Absolutely. I've never been more sure of anything," you said, without hesitation.

"You'll make a lovely one," Rebekah added, pulling you out of bed and to your feet.

"Come on, we have a lot to do, the hair and makeup people will be here in an hour, and I need to make sure you eat something first," she said, ushering you towards the bathroom.

"And then we can finally see this dress!" Hayley added, excitedly.

The five of you spent the rest of the morning in a flurry of activity, the girls made sure you ate and drank water, despite how much champagne was flowing. The hairdresser and makeup artist did wonders, and then finally, it was time for the dress.

You had put on the vintage corset and underwear, rolling up the stocking and clipping them in place. The girls helped you step into the gown, fastening the buttons up the back, before you stood in front of the mirror.

Rebekah started to cry and Freya and Camille put their arms around her, all of them staring at you.

"Are you okay, Bekah?" You asked, looking at her reflection.

She wiped her tears and sniffed. "He's going to faint when he sees you,"

The four of them laughed and you turned around, holding out your hands.

"Well, let's go get married,"

The music started as you entered the garden, and everyone stood, turning to look at you.

It was like a fairytale.

Your eyes were on Elijah the entire time, his eyes were a bit glassy and he was nervously playing with his hands. Klaus handed him a tissue, patting his shoulder and Rebekah hooked her arm in yours , guiding you down the aisle.

"No fainting yet," you whispered to Rebekah, making her giggle.

"I promise I will catch him if he does," she whispered back.

He held out his hand to you when you finally reached him and you took it, Rebekah handing your bouquet to Hayley.

"Hello," you whispered, looking up at him.

"Hi," he replied, smiling down at you, his brown eyes warm and loving.

"You look perfect," he said, softly.

"So do you," you said, grinning at him.

Klaus cleared his throat and began to speak.

"We are gathered here today, to join Elijah and Y/n in matrimony. They have both written their own vows, so Elijah, you may start,"

Elijah squeezed your hands and smiled at you, his eyes soft and full of love.

"My love, you are the one that I have waited centuries for. The one who brings light into my life. I love you so much, I will be forever grateful that I found you. I promise to spend every day of eternity showing you how much I love and cherish you. Thank you for agreeing to marry me, thank you for loving me," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

You felt tears in your eyes as he finished speaking, reaching up and brushing a tear away with his thumb. The crowd aww'd at his words, and the entire wedding party dabbed at their eyes with tissues.

"I'm afraid my vows are going to sound a little lame after that," you teased, making Elijah chuckle.

"Elijah," you began. "I have loved you from the moment I saw you. You have always been there for me, through good and bad, you have taken care of me, supported me, loved me. I know my heart is safe with you. You have always said you would give me the world, and I know you will, and I want to give you mine, for as long as I live,"

Elijah's eyes became glassy again and he took a deep breath, fighting back his tears.

"Do we have the rings?" Klaus asked.

You glanced down the aisle to see Hope toddling towards you, with a pillow in her hands. Everyone watched her and she reached you, proudly handing the rings to her uncle.

"Thank you, darling," Elijah said, ruffling her hair.

"You may exchange the rings," Klaus said, Hope was now clinging to his leg, watching the ceremony with fascination.

Elijah slipped the ring on your finger, and you did the same, looking down at the two silver bands. You realized that your ring had a lapis lazuli stone embedded in the metal, the one that would allow you to walk in the sunlight when you were a vampire.

"Elijah, do you take Y/n as your lawfully wedded wife, to love and cherish, until death do you part?"

"I do," he replied, staring deep into your eyes.

"Y/n, do you take Elijah as your lawfully wedded husband, to love and cherish, until death do you part?"

"I do," you said, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

"Well then, by the power invested in me by a monk in the 12th century, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride,"

Elijah cupped your cheek in his hand, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone, before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. His hands moved down your back, tilting you backwards, dipping you. The guests cheered and applauded, and the photographer snapped pictures.

"I love you," he said, whispering the words into your mouth.

"I love you, Mr. Mikaelson," you said, grinning.

He pulled you up, his eyes were bright, and his cheeks were flushed, his happiness radiating off him.

"Mrs. Mikaelson," he said, softly.

You kissed him again, the two of you wrapped in each other's embrace, his arms holding you tight against him.

"Let's get this party started!" Marcel yelled, causing a cheer from the crowd.

The two of you made your way back down the aisle, and back into the house. As soon as you were inside, you pulled Elijah in for a passionate kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"We are married," you said, giggling.

"Indeed we are," he replied, smiling.

"Can't we skip the party, and just go upstairs now?" You asked, kissing him again.

"My greedy little wife," he teased. "Don't worry, tonight will be worth the wait,"

The compound was elaborately decorated, with lights and flowers hanging everywhere, and the guests were laughing and dancing, having a great time.

You sat at a table near the dance floor with your new husband, watching everyone. His hand was resting on your thigh, squeezing it gently every so often.

It was getting late, the sun had set and the guests were getting more and more drunk. The music slowed and the couples swayed together, some kissing and holding each other tight.

"So," Elijah whispered in your ear. "How are you feeling about tonight?"

"I can't wait," you said, turning to look at him. "I just can't wait for us to start our lives together,"

"Me either, sweetheart," he said, brushing his lips against your temple. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"I want this." You placed a hand on his cheek. "More than anything."

He let out a long sigh, his hand squeezing your thigh tighter. But he didn't say anything else.

After a moment, he stood up and held out his hand.

"Dance with me?"

You took his hand and he led you out to the dance floor. You wrapped your arms around his neck and his hands rested on your hips.

The two of you danced slowly to the music, lost in each other's eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" You asked him, breaking the silence.

"Nothing." He replied, smiling softly, looking away.

You narrowed your eyes. "Don't lie to me, Mr. Mikaelson."

He chuckled. "Fine. I'm thinking about how beautiful you are, and how lucky I am."

"I'm the lucky one," you whispered, leaning in and kissing him softly.

The two of you continued slow dancing and you rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"I'm nervous," He admitted, softly his hands running up and down your back.

You lifted your head and looked up at him. "Why?"

"I don't want to see you die," He looked into your eyes, and you could see the pain behind them. "I don't want to watch the light leave your eyes, and not be able to do anything about it."

You cupped his cheek and stroked it. "I'll come right back, Elijah. You have nothing to worry about."

He nodded, then leaned in and kissed you, soft and slow. His hands on your hips, slowly guiding you, the two of you still moving to the music.

After a few minutes, he broke the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours.

"I don't think I'm capable of not worrying about you." He said, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

"Well," You whispered, smiling up at him. "That's something we have in common, then."

His hands were on your lower back, his fingertips tracing patterns on the soft fabric.

"Do you remember when we met?" He asked, looking down at you.

"I do." You said, giggling. "It was the most cliché thing ever, but I remember it like it was yesterday."

"You were wearing a green dress." He recalled. "You were trying to get a book from the top shelf at this little bookstore. You had climbed onto a chair and were stretching your arm as far as you could, but you just couldn't reach it. And I thought, 'that's the most adorable thing I've ever seen'."

You laughed, remembering how flustered you'd been. "And then, I dismissed your attempt to help me as being creepy,"

"Until you tripped over your own feet and fell into my arms." He reminded you, a smirk on his face.

"You caught me, though." You whispered.

"That I did," he murmured. "And I will always catch you."

You stood on your tiptoes, kissing him softly. "I'm glad," you said.

His hands moved lower, grabbing your ass, and pulling you closer. You blushed and looked around quickly, but nobody seemed to be paying any attention to you.

"I remember something else about the day we met," he whispered in your ear.

You looked up at him and smiled. "What?"

"How you looked in my bed that night, the soft little moans you made," he teased.

You bit your lip, a wave of arousal washing over you. The memory still fresh in your mind.

"You have a way of making me lose all sense," you said, breathlessly.

"I know," he smirked, his eyes sparkling, "I've got you right where I want you."

You giggled, burying your face in his chest, breathing in his scent.

"You are so bad," you whispered.

He hummed in agreement, squeezing your ass once more, causing you to let out a little squeak.

"We should say goodbye to our guests," he murmured. "There is a car waiting,"

You nodded and let him guide you around, saying goodbye to all the guests. They followed the two of you out to the courtyard, and then they began throwing rice and rose petals, while the two of you got into the waiting car.

As the car drove away, the guests cheered and you couldn’t help the huge grin on your face, waving at them until they were out of sight.

Elijah's hand rested on your thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb. You rested your head on his shoulder, watching the city go by.

"So, are you going to tell me where we are going?" You asked, glancing at him.

"There's this lakehouse, about an hour from here. It's a quiet, private place, not even my siblings know about it." He said, pulling your hand into his lap.

"You didn't tell anyone about it?" You asked, a little shocked.

"Not a soul," he said, smiling. "I've had a few secret hideaways over the years, but this one is special."

"Why is that?" You asked.

"It's where I go to get away from everything, to clear my head and recharge," he explained. "And now, it's going to be our special place,"

"That's sweet," you said, kissing his cheek.

The drive seemed to take forever, but finally the car turned onto a long driveway. Elijah helped you out of the car, and then he scooped you into his arms.

"You are such a romantic," you said, giggling.

"I try," he teased, carrying you inside.

He set you down in the entryway, and then took your hand, leading you around. It was a gorgeous home, and it was obvious that Elijah had put a lot of work into it.

But he didn't give you much time to admire it, before he was on you, quickly dragging you to the bedroom.

His hands roaming your body, his mouth crashing onto yours, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer.

"Don't you dare rip my wedding dress Mr. Mikaelson," you breathed.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he murmured, his hands gently tugging the fabric.

You giggled and pushed him away, holding his gaze, then you turned and looked over your shoulder at him, motioning to the buttons going down your back.

His fingers deftly undid the small buttons, taking his time, as if he was savoring each one. He kissed along the back of your neck and shoulders, pushing the straps of the dress off, and letting it fall to the ground.

His hands went to your waist, helping you step out of the dress, and he knelt down, picking it up and placing it carefully on a nearby chair.

"Such a gentleman," you said, softly.

His gaze roamed over your body, admiring the way the lingerie clung to your skin, accentuating every curve.

"Gorgeous," he said, stepping closer, his fingers tracing along the boning of the corset.

Your hands went to his chest, reaching up to undo his bowtie. He watched your hands, his eyes darkening with desire.

You tossed the tie aside, and began unbuttoning his shirt. You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips, your hands continuing their path.

When you got to his pants, you stopped, a wicked grin spreading across your face. You ran your finger along his waistband, teasing him.

He groaned and picked you up, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck.

In an instant you were on the bed, the speed of vampires never ceased to amaze you. You lay there, looking up at him, your hair fanning out around your head, and you couldn't help but grin.

"Will you teach me to do that?" You asked, referring to the vamp speed.

He chuckled, leaning down and kissing your cheek. "Of course, my love. I will teach you everything you need to know."

You smiled, then reached up and pulled him down, crushing your lips together. He pressed his hips against yours, and you could feel the bulge in his pants.

"What else can you teach me?" You whispered, biting your lip and looking into his eyes, trying to look all sweet and innocent.

He raised an eyebrow and smirked, his eyes darkening. "Lots of things."

You ran a hand through his hair, tugging lightly. "I can't wait."

He grinned and leaned in, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. His hands moving all over your body, caressing and squeezing.

"But first I'm going to take this corset off." He said, his fingers trailing down your chest and finding the ribbons. "I'm going to untie it slowly, and then I'm going to kiss every inch of your skin."

You let out a small gasp, his words sending a wave of arousal through you. He pressed his hips harder against your hand, still working to slowly untie the first ribbon.

"I'm going to make you come all over my tongue," He said, his voice raspy and low, working on loosening the second ribbon, pulling it free. "Over," He tugged on the third, "And over," the fourth, "And over."

You moaned, his words making you dizzy, and he grinned, pulling the last ribbon loose.

The corset fell away, and Elijah quickly pulled it from you, tossing it aside. His hands were on your breasts immediately, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, causing them to harden.

He lowered his head, his tongue flicking out and swirling around one nipple, before sucking it into his mouth.

You were panting, your hands gripping the sheets, watching as he made his way down, slowly removing your panties. He kissed his way up your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours.

He looked up at you and smirked, then slowly lowered his head, groaning as he licked a broad stroke over your pussy.

You gasped, arching your back, pushing yourself closer to him. He chuckled, his hands gripping your thighs, pushing them further apart, his tongue teasing and licking at your clit.

You were in heaven. The sounds he was making, the way he was devouring you, it all felt incredible. You couldn't help the moans and whimpers escaping from your throat, only fueling him on.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from the sight of him between your legs, the way his gaze would meet yours sent a thrill through you. He looked so content and satisfied, his eyes hooded, his tongue working you expertly.

He suddenly slipped a finger inside you, curling it against your walls, searching for that sweet spot. When he found it, he smirked, picking up the pace of his tongue lapping at your clit.

You came undone in seconds. Your walls clenched around his finger and your back arched, crying out his name.

He lifted his head, staring up at you, his eyes black. He licked his lips and winked at you, two of his fingers still pumping in and out of you.

He looked down at your flushed face and swollen lips, watching your body coming down from your high. You were always so beautiful after an orgasm. He could always coax these little spasms out of you afterwards, making you moan even more.

"I love you." He whispered. "My perfect wife."

With a wicked smirk, he slid a third finger in, curling against your g-spot, a delighted squeak escaping your lips as you squeezed his fingers.

"I can't wait to spend eternity with you," He said, his voice slow and gruff, the pleasure overwhelming you. "Watching you come like this, every night."

He continued to pump his fingers, with firm and steady strokes, the pressure building and building. Your body began to tense again, your moans becoming louder and more desperate. He grinned, watching you fall apart for him.

Your body started to shake, the waves of pleasure hitting you again and again, as you came on his fingers. He captured your lips in a rough kiss, swallowing your moans.

You collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily, the aftershocks still rolling through you. Elijah leaned down and kissed your neck, nuzzling against you.

"My wife," he said, savoring the way it sounded.

You giggled, still feeling a bit floaty. You looked up at him, taking in the sight of him. He was so handsome, his dark hair slightly disheveled, his eyes shining with love and affection.

"My husband," you said, reaching up and brushing some hair out of his eyes.

He smiled, his hands tracing along your bare skin. "You don't have to turn tonight, if you're not ready,"

You shook your head, smiling. "No, I want to. I'm ready."

"Are you sure?" He asked, his voice full of concern.

"Eli," you said, cupping his cheek. "I'll be okay,"

His expression turned a bit serious, his eyes flashing with worry.

"You're my whole world, I won't lose you," he said, kissing you deeply.

"You won't lose me," you said, softly.

"Promise?" He asked, his hand moving to your cheek, stroking it gently.

"I promise," you said, your heart fluttering.

He gently pushed your legs apart, his fingers stroking your thigh, the touch sending sparks through you.

"I will never let anything happen to you," he said, positioning himself between your legs.

"I know," you said, gasping when you felt him ease into you, slowly and gently.

"I love you," he said, leaning down and kissing your lips, as he began to move his hips, pushing himself deeper. "More than anything,"

"I love you, too." You gasped, wrapping your legs around him, pulling him closer.

One of his hands went to the small of your back, the other cradling behind your neck. He held you to him, forehead to forehead, his eyes boring into yours.

He rocked his hips, grinding against you, filling you completely. His thumb brushed across your lower lip, then his lips pressed against yours, whispering how much he loved you.

You felt as though your heart beats were the same, the way it was pounding in your chest, in time with his. The way he held you like this, close and tight, it was everything.

The heat and friction began building between you, his thrusts becoming deeper and harder. The air filled with the sounds of your moans and sighs, your bodies moving together.

You could feel another orgasm building, your breath coming in short, ragged pants. He seemed to sense this, his pace picking up, his eyes locked on yours.

"I want you to come with me," he said, his voice husky and low, as his hips drove into you, over and over.

"Yes," you whimpered, your fingers digging into his back, leaving crescent moon marks in his skin.

Together, you let go, your bodies trembling and shuddering, clinging to each other. He buried his face in your neck, groaning, his teeth scraping your skin.

You lay there for a few moments, holding each other, your breathing slowly returning to normal. His lips were still against your neck, his arms wrapped around you.

"Elijah?" You asked, hesitantly.

"Mmm?" He mumbled, not wanting to move.

"I know how I want to die," you said, quietly.

He pulled back, looking at you. ". . . You do?"

You nodded, chewing your bottom lip, you weren't sure if he would be willing to do this for you.

"I want you to drink from me," you said, softly.

His eyes widened, a look of shock on his face.

"I mean, only if you're okay with it. We can find a different way... You can just snap my neck like we originally planned... I just thought...," you said, quickly, starting to ramble.

He cut you off with a deep, passionate kiss.

"Are you sure?" He asked, once the kiss broke.

You nodded, a shy smile on your face.

"Absolutely."

"Alright, but if it gets too much, tell me. We can always stop," he said, his hand resting on your cheek.

"Okay," you said, nodding.

He sat up, leaning against the headboard, pulling you into his lap. His hands on your hips, he didn't move for a moment, just looked at you, a gentle smile on his lips.

"I'm ready Elijah... I want this," you said, cupping his face, and brushing your lips against his.

He kissed you softly, with pure tenderness and love. He looked into your eyes, and you could see the conflicting emotions running through him. Fear, happiness, sorrow, joy.

You stroked his cheek, reassuring him.

"I love you," he said, biting down on his wrist and bringing it to your lips.

"I love you, too," you whispered, taking his blood into your mouth, his free arm wrapping around your waist.

His wrist fell away, and he tilted his head, pressing his lips to yours. Then, he kissed a trail down your neck, stopping right over the vein.

You could feel the sharpness of his fangs, his mouth ghosting across your skin. His hands moved to your back, rubbing it soothingly. He was still hesitating.

Your hands gripped his chest, preparing for the sting of pain, the dark shroud of death that awaited you.

His fangs sank into you, and your body jerked. But the pain was fleeting, as the pleasure began to take over. His hands moved up and down your back, pulling you closer, his mouth working over the bite.

He was so gentle, and tender, the way he was holding you, caressing you. It made your heart swell with love, as the blood flowed from you.

He drank slowly, savoring the taste of your blood, listening to your heart beating slower, your breathing becoming shallower.

He could feel your life force slipping away, the blood no longer rushing through your veins. He felt an almost uncontrollable fear, and he had to fight the urge to let go.

You began to drift away, darkness creeping around the edge of your vision. Your eyes fluttered shut, your heart skipping a beat, before it came to a complete stop.

He pulled his mouth away, and pressed his forehead to yours, his tears falling on your face.

He let out a choked sob, the anguish of losing you was too much. He knew you would return, but in this place of nothingness, the void, it was all too real.

Your body was cuddled into his, your head resting in his shoulder, the wound on your neck still oozing blood.

He closed his eyes, and focused on the future, of all the things he would teach you. The places he would take you. The adventures you would have.

He was going to make the most of this eternity with you.

It didn't take long for your heart beat to return, or for you to stir. Your eyes opened slowly, blinking against the light.

"Eli?"

He pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Welcome back," he said, smiling.

You returned his smile, snuggling against him, and sighing.

"How do you feel?" He asked, his arms tightening around you.

"Hungry."

He laughed, stroking your hair. "I have just the thing for that,"

You nodded, sitting up, and looking at him. He looked tired, his eyes rimmed with red, his hair tousled.

"Have you been crying?" You asked, gently.

He nodded, looking a little embarrassed.

You kissed him softly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"It's alright, my love. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere," you whispered, pressing your forehead to his.

"Good," he said, letting out a shaky breath.

He held you, his hands stroking your back, your hair.

You lay there for a while, in the safety of his arms, before he pulled away, and smiled at you.

He reached for a blood bag he had gotten ready, and handed it to you. You tore into the bag, and drank deeply. You hadn't realized how thirsty you were, until you tasted the blood. It was sweet, and thick, and it was exactly what you needed.

He watched your eyes turn black, dark veins snaking underneath them, and smiled. You were beautiful.

When you were done, he tossed the bag aside, and wrapped his arms around you again.

"So, what happens now?" You asked, your eyes searching his.

"We live.”

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banana-pancake5 · 10 months ago

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This stuff is so cool!!! I love Camille’s powers so much!!!!! I love how Frida is called Big Sis it seems so fitting and intimidating. Big mama retiring Frida from the nexus seems so in character I love it! Gewiudbwsiubdwsiubdwsuiswdiudswb I have more I wanna say but the words ain’t wording ;-;

I love this very much and I am so incredibly excited for more about this au!!!!!! Also now you really got me thinking about my Frida…

I have lil questions about spiders web widens!

Does Frida mainly live in the Hotel or the Battle Nexus (I would assume the battle nexus would have lodging)? And if she lives down in the hidden city would Frida be allowed to sneak up to the surface? Or does Big mama keep her close at all times?

Also is it known to the public that Frida is Big Mama’s daughter?

Alsoooooo is there any lil fun fact(s) you’d like to share about Camille?

Hi, Moo! Thanks for the questions ^^ this was a really well timed ask bc I was thinking about all of these today so yay

This was very long so imma put a cut hahaha

1. So. What I’ve been thinking so far is that Frida (and Big Mama) would live in the hotel. I believe that one room with the lava lamp to be hers, as I’ve probably mentioned before but let’s just pretend I didn’t. But today I was watching “Battle Nexus: New York” and at the end, after the shredder attack, the entire hotel crumbles to the ground. I did not notice this before so unless it’s in the last two episodes that I plan on watching tomorrow, I guess they won’t be living there during SWW? I think they would be almost done rebuilding but would be in an alternate place probably. Mama’s web of resources is quite expansive so they probably will have some place else I’ll figure out the details to later.

When she was an active participant in the Nexus, Frida would have lived there. This was probably several months, but at the point of the story, she’s a couple years retired from the Nexus. Not by choice (though she would have chosen that), Big Mama just felt she was getting too much attention and didn’t want her to develop an ego.

Wherever their new living space is, it probably is in the Hidden City, but Friday doesn’t get the opportunity to roam. Her job is to assist Big Mama, and Frida is a bit of a workaholic. Never leaves her side except for when Mama sends her on errands. Big Mama has quite the hold on her, but it can’t stop Frida from taking an extra second to people watch… she has quite the interest in them.

2. Frida’s public image is a bit choppy. She’s a sort of legend in that not many people know much about her and lots of info seems to conflict. Many know Big Mama has a child- it’s in her name after all- but they can’t often put a face to the child. She grew up around the hotel but didn’t do much apart from her studies. Then once she got to an age Mama deemed old enough to fight, she became known as a warrior and eventually a champion. Once she had proved herself (or really, once Mama felt threatened by the amount of attention Frida was getting), she retired from the Battle Nexus and began her duties at the Hotel. She became known by the other staff members as “Big Sis”- no longer the child they had seen grow up, now a seasoned killing machine. Once the opportunity arose, Frida became Mama’s assistant until it was her main and most important role. When she makes appearances in public, her masked persona is known for her strength and brutality. When she is unmasked, she is the daughter of Big Mama- prestigious and powerful. Very few know the true extent of who she actually is. And wow this is getting long…

3. Hehehe I was just wanting to mention this ^^ I don’t think I’ve discussed Camille’s mystic abilities. In SWW, there is a distinct difference between mystic stuff and the Hamato ninpo. What Frida uses is her ninpo; Camille has had no such luck with ninpo stuff though (being alone for most of her life and all that). She does, however, possess a knack for mystic stuff and has some “natural” mystic powers. I say natural bc it’s as natural as it can be when you were made in a lab.

So first, she has psychometric precognition and retrocognition. That means when she can see the future or past (specifically relating to the individual) when she touches people. This results in her greeting people by just grabbing their faces (“I know more stuff the closer I touch to their head”). It’s not consistent though. For instance, it doesn’t always happen. She may touch someone and get nothing then do it again and oh wow so many visions all at once. She also can’t tell if it’s future stuff or past stuff which leads to lots of confusion.

Second, it’s not an innate power but Draxum taught her a telekinetic spell which is one of the few things she managed to remember from that time. She has the spell running almost constantly bc it’s very convenient and plays into her fighting style a lot.

#do not apologize for the long read! I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again I LOVE hearing rambles #people being passionate and excited about things makes me happy #also this stuff is literally so interesting #I thank thee for thine answers #oooooo goofy drawing idea for Camille and Vita is brewing in my head #SWW #spider’s web widens #moo’s moots #rottmnt camille #Rottmnt Frida #Rottmnt big mama #Rottmnt oc #Rottmnt ocs #Rottmnt au #Rottmnt

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fawnning · 3 months ago

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RED RIDING HOOD, duncan vizla x camille!reader

t.g: daddy-daughter stepcest, smut, reader calls duncan dad multiple times during sex, piv, oral, squirting, creampie, mentions of suicide, daddy kink (wc2.6k not proofread)

a.n: i had three hours of sleep and a dream, mini celebration now that my exams are over, no lurking please give me that interaction, minimal dialogue because i say so.. also hi mads fans.. no hannibal content anytime soon from me imsorry..

It's been like what, five- six years since he's taken you in? Duncan took up a gentleman's handshake with the devil, swore to never grow close to anyone, to let another person bare the dread of living in constant fear. Yet he has you, up in the cabin where you could be mistaken for one of the lambs, blending in the pale, blinding snow whenever you wear that coat, consisting of wool and Duncan's blood, sweat and tears whilst he watches over you like a wolf, it doesn't help with those fucking husky teeth of his (your favourite quality of him), that snarl whenever he instructs you to tuck yourself away into one of the four corners of the cabin for every creak he hears in this already old, already rotting cabin.

Five years further from tragedy, every second closer to Duncan. That oath was long forgotten since he's met you, turned to fucking ash. Took you under his wing to raise you right, "proper training for the real world," he says. Whatever that means. He swore he'd never let a thing harm you, even if it meant sacrificing himself and his morals. He'd never expect you to repay him, it's not your responsibility to bare, at least it wasn't when you had to lay by his side for warmth, now you've grown accustomed to it, to admit it is one thing, to like it is another.

"Lunch," He mumbles, placing a hearty bowl of goulash paired with a side of mashed potatoes, delectable. "Specially for my girl," He ruffles your hair as you reach for the utensils across the table. It wasn't a lot to work with, yet he's given you the best. He displaces the resting cigarette from his mouth down to the stove, letting it light the butt up, he takes a long drag to recharge, closing his eyes as he enjoys his dinner. You chow down at the food like you always do, he gazes at you longingly, like he always does. This time it's completely different.

He breaks past your personal space to the dish he's prepared, his palm rests against the back of your hand, your wood chopping scars look like papercuts compared to his, laboured and scathed to give you a comfortable life.

You gasp, feeling the cold air around you grow humid, eyes widening. Not his first time expressing affection, no. Not his first time making you feel this dizzy, either. Sure, hypothermia causes you to see stars, just not the ones Duncan causes, ones like sparks from a gunshot. He savours a bit of the goulash, eyes shut to reminisce all his warmest memories, occasional drives downtown, reading a book by the fireplace, hugging you for comfort.

His pupils dilate, he flinches slightly as he breaks away. There is no fucking way in Hell he's even thinking about that last part in a "sweet", "happy and homey" way. No, he's finding solace in fisting his dick while you laid in bed by him, clueless of his intentions, expressions - the things he's wanted to do to you.

He rests on the swingset he built you the same day he's seen you circle on one of those old-ass catalogue books. By now, he's on his second stick, reaching into his pockets to find a light.

You join him after a while, "I did the dishes," You tremble at the cold, always a first time experience with it, Duncan pushes away before he cups his hand into a tight fist, his nails dig at his skin, accepting his fate. He can't stray past an already remote distance, any more and the bad guys will set out to get you, that's all you know, it's all you've heard. "It was amazing, thanks, Dad." Now you're exchanging roles, you break past his personal space to lean by his shoulder, you reach into your pocket, the lighter crackles as you light his cigarette. It'd be wrong to admit that he's proud of you, not like gentle parenting is in his cards anyways. "Mm," He hums, pleased. "Go inside, I'll join you in a bit." He instructs, you do as you're told, the weight of the snow dips, growing shallow for every step you take back to the cabin.

Duncan is a simple man — he's content living the way he is, been years since he's fucked, let alone get a girl to moan his name, it'd been a shocker to know that he can still get his dick up, it took him long enough, just until he'd met you. He likes to watch from afar, he watches you at a comfortable distance to not harm you, to watch you cluelessly angle yourself in positions where he could just rip off that nightdress of yours, get you to transition from "Dad," to "Daddy." Zero to a hundred in his head.

He puts the cigarette out, flicking it down to the snowy compound. He walks back to the cabin, pinching the bridge of his nose, he deserves a comeuppance for thinking like this, gun to the temple if you ever resented him for touching you. He shuts the door, loud enough for you to hear it.

The pale moonlight transpires after ages of hiding behind the foggy clouds. Duncan feels odd tonight, especially since you've debuted a cute minidress, it's a warm night in the cabin, the fireplace rages with the mixture of coal and wood burning. You head past the corner of the cabin to show Duncan, hair slithering to your shoulder as you give him a twirl.

He's watching like a rabid dog, it doesn't show past his mind, but holy fuck, it's like the devil's playing mind tricks on him. You would've expected a better response from him, annoyed, you inch closer to Duncan, resting on his lap, he feels as your panty clad ass rubs against the fabric of his pants, his throat bobs in fear.

"Dad, don't you ever feel alone up here?" You ask out of curiosity. He can't just tell you as it is, right? Porn is a passable material here, as taboo as it is, no hooker is willing to freeze her tits off for a measly $20. "Yeah, it does — nothing I can do about it, either." He jokes, despondent as he grows older. "No one wants to fuck an old man, either." He lays all his cards on the table. "Everyone? Is that true, dad?" You play dumb, literally, it's not just for sure, you're just a very speculative girl with zero context clues. "Yeah, everyone, now go to bed," He retorts gruffly, "I'll be with you in a minute." You don't give up, yet you listen to him like you always do.

You hop on the bed like a bunny, inundated with the amount of blankets and throw-overs, you cast some of the fabric aside, leaving room for Duncan to lay closer to you. Just as you finish doing so, he softens the contrast of the lamp, strips himself until he's just wearing his sweats, he joins you, only at a distance, feasible enough for you to savour him, imagining your nails scratch at his back, tracing red marks over the ones that have just healed.

And so you do. You trail your nail over the hump of his back, slithering over his neck, you press kisses at his scruffy beard, feeling the hairs nick at your skin, your thigh rides up to his waist, "Jesus," He moans, manhandling you with ease, he lies flat, gets you to lay where his knees are, just past his dick, hard, it's hitting his stomach like it owes him money. You bite your lip at the sight, no fucking way you've been sleeping next to him without curiosity spilling and sticking like honey on the sheets, memory foam holds a heavy impression.

"Dad," You wail,

"What was that?"

"Dad," Once more.

He smacks the flesh of your ass, groping it to soothe the scarlet brand.

"Daddy," You sob out.

"That's what I thought." Honest to him, he hates it, hates the thought of it, hates the way they do it in porn, it's so forced, not even the same nose, same eyes, and they've got spirit. You definitely climbed up the ranks tenfold, nice to hear it come from you, nice to hear how reassuringly gross and fucked up his actions are, nice to hear how you reciprocate.

He slips his hand past the band of his sweats, lowering it as you scratch his stomach out of a gruelling mix of desire and fear. He interlocks the fingers of his free hand with yours, off a tangent to reassure you.

His cock slaps at the base of your pussy, he hums keenly, teasing you at your clothed clit, you bite your lip out of hunger. He looks up at you, savouring his little girl's movements, her miniscule reactions — twitching, moaning, shivers as he peels the fabric, pulls it to the side, you shift your hips slightly upwards, giving him more room to slide his dick in, which he does inadvertently, you're just too wet, Duncan is caught off guard, a breathy moan escapes his lips as well as yours. "Fuck," a small giggle at the end of his cue.

Up, down, up, maybe move into a more comfortable position, this one is kicking your ass, you lay by the flat side of his palms, he caresses your waist as he guides you, "Like that, you're doing so good," he praises, it's genuine, like all the times he's been proud of you.

"Dad, dad," You mewl, Duncan's eyes flutter shut, he's shocked to find that you take him so easily, more than that, he hates that he loves hearing you call him that — he does deserve a bullet through that skull of his. "Like that, sweetie?" You lose your composure. From holding his hands, you slip past it, luckily enough you manage to position your hands by either sides of his head, good enough for him. The two of you gain momentum, Duncan thrusts, the fervor piles on. The sounds of moans and skin slapping hits the air, it echoes like the howling winds right outside.

"Kiss me," He orders, you oblige needlessly. You sink in closer to Duncan, kissing him hungrily, he laps at your tongue with primal desire, lips pressing, his hand is at the back of your head. reeling you in closer to savor you a little more. He thrusts harder, the momentum is steady, but he's cracking at your cervix, Duncan evidently grows closer, you push away, "Dad— need to pull out," God knows where you've learned to talk that way, you didn't need it, the birds and the bees thing happened once yet you know your lines better than a pornstar. "You're– fuck, you're right," It just occured to him, yet he doesn't even act on it, pulling you closer like he's begging the inexistent gods to impregnate you, maybe one or two more rounds until it takes.

Duncan grows weak which makes it easier for you to pull out, you watch as his cum rivulet down your thighs. Breath heaving, you strip the dress off of yourself, it has no use, could look better clean instead of being tossed to the side after Duncan would very likely jerk off to it, you like that more than you'd admit, but you're better off with Dad cumming in and on you instead.

You lay on your side of the bed, by now Duncan grows hard again and your eyes widen, body jolting slightly, he grips at your wrists, cuffing you lightly, he pulls you to the end of his side of the bed, by the fireplace where you glow like ember. He gets on both knees, "Dad wants to eat you out, sweetheart, can he?" He questions, not like he's gonna take no for an answer, even if you're weary, you doubt this would resurface, so you oblige. He watches you nod, teeming with excitement, it doesn't show, a common occurrence.

The broad of his tongue savours you past your flesh, like a sapling, you tremble as he spits on your clit, slick coating your walls as he repeatedly bullies your poor, swollen pussy, it's overstimulated, yet you don't give out. "Dad," You whine, "it's too much, gonna cum," He won't complain if you do, it's unjust if you don't.

"Look at me," You're slightly dumbfounded, mind evidently hazy, your lower lip is left hanging, drool flows, the thick of it hangs at the end, shaking with constant momentum, Duncan orders once more, "Look at me when you cum, got it?" You stare at him, heavy lidded, he watches as your breathing grows more laboured, he curls his tongue inside you, hands digging at either sides of your waist til' you're nearly bleeding, your eyes widen, body convulsing as your insides grip onto the flesh of his tongue like a vice, the other hand snakes to your chest, thumb swirling over your pebbled tits, sending your brain into overdrive, your eyes roll back, body shuddering, pressure whips at your clit, and you squirt — you twitch, over and over until you have to physically wrestle yourself out of Duncan's reach. He didn't want to scare you off, but he doesn't blame himself for wanting another selfish taste.

"You squirted," He states the obvious, it's bitter to say in reality, yet he relishes the sight before him. "Your first one too," He gets back to the bed, you nod in embarrassment as you shift back to your side, "The bed," you point out meekly, "Don't worry about it," He insists, "Definitely not going to be our first time, get some rest." He mumbles to himself, resting facing the end of the bed.

#duncan vizla #duncan vizla x reader #duncan vizla x you #polar x reader #mads mikkelsen x reader #cw stepcest

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theorahsart · 2 months ago

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@hemille I'm sorry to have accidentally misled you, I was just joking around in my reply!

The joke being, I find Camille to have a (loveable but undeniable) inflated ego at times 😂 I don't think there's any evidence that he was bi either, but some of his ott praises of Robespierre sure feel that way to a modern day reader ahaha (here is just one I came across in a book last year that I love):

"✨️Robespierre, always so pure, so incorruptible, and at this session so eloquent, was surrounded by all the elite of patriotism ✨️ "

#I swear every other thing I read from Camille about Robespierre is like “🥺🥺🥺 you're so amazing and perfect *sighs audibly* ”#robespierre #camille desmoulins

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hexhomos · 4 months ago

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random question (please feel free to ignore)... do you have any recommendations for where to learn more about League of Legends lore/worldbuilding? I'm fresh off watching the show, totally unfamiliar with the game and wanting to try my hand at writing fic but am finding myself a bit lost as far as learning more about the setting (specifically Piltover and Zaun). I ask you because I've been reading (and greatly enjoying) some of your fics and they feel really grounded in the setting. thanks so much for your time!

I'll always direct you to the vikjayce codex first (open this on browser so you can see the site tabs/better reading experience) so you can get a hold of their characters pre-arcane.

After that, try the Piltover page and the Zaun page on the league universe website! There are other tabs for champion lores and such. I recommend skimming through every region's summary pitch to get a feel of things and then reading whatever you like.

I recommend these roster champs for a sampler:

The interactive map of Runeterra can give you a good sense of scale/positioning for things and navigating it will lead to more links. It's a pretty cool experience but browser only.

We also have ALTERNATE UNIVERSES with their own lore and different takes on the champs. Arcane implies they remain all canon simultaneously. Star Guardian is a magical girl universe & Odyssey is a space opera universe with their own pages, though there's far more based on skins. Every timeline every possibility etc you have freerange

There's also a 2021 companion book called Realms of Runeterra, I don't think its particularly game changing but it presents things in an organized way and you can.... find it in places where books are uploaded...

lastly, youtube has a lot of 'lore of runeterra' 'league lore summary of X & Y' videos - some of them pretty good! I'm not going to link any because I havent watched them in a while but it can make things easier for you. JUST KEEP IN MIND pretty often these youtubers will get details wrong and you should be double-checking on any assumption they do before internalizing it as hard canon, like read the short story or bio for yourself etc. A lot of people mischaracterized jayce/viktor for a while bc these guys kept conflating arcane with past canon and arcane changes up the world A LOT, the previous timeline is basically destroyed.

On the last point: writing Arcane verse gives you a little more wiggle room because the entire worldbuilding is up on the air, and relies entirely on what is most convenient or narratively sound for the story. Readers are totally willing to see your own take on things.

#meta tag #arcane #jayvik #league of legends #jayce talis #viktor arcane #jayce arcane #jayce lol #viktor lol #viktor league of legends #jayce league of legends #vikjayce #hexposts #star guardian #odyssey #runeterra #lore of runeterra

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whoopsyeahokay · 2 months ago

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October Moon

summary: the day after the Homecoming Dance, everyone had been out of it. still, there'd been a lot of opportunity to learn and form a game plan, which you and Wally had done. amongst other things.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smutty smut smut. mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER MOON pt.7

The Ciorcal. A council that oversaw a clutch of families whose blood was infused with connectedness. There were many throughout the world, the number of families under each Ciorcal's governance limited to ensure the rules could be effectively enforced. Ciorcals weren't all powerful or meddling. Nothing like the Volturi in Twilight or the Ministry of Magic in Harry Potter. More like a rural Board of Revision who stepped in to make decisions when families couldn't agree on courses of action. Very mundane stuff that often involved pots upon pots of coffee during deliberations, and a lot of paperwork. Often, hearings took time to schedule since most councilmembers had real lives with real jobs and real social demands.

You'd never met them. You didn't know who your family had to report to if an issue arose with someone's connectedness. There was a ledger tucked away somewhere that only the matriarch had the privilege of using to reach out to them or to the other families under your Ciorcal's administration.

The matriarch in your family was, of course, Ginny. And Ginny didn't seem pleased to have had to call one of the councilmen ('Godfrey', you'd heard her bark when he'd rambled on for too long about his grandkid's ballet recital) simply because Andrew had found a totem linked to a homicide that'd occurred in Mississippi in 2010.

The right thing to do, you thought, was to hand it over to police so they could test it for DNA or whatever. Only, there was nothing special about the totem to indicate that it'd had anything to do with anything apart from having been donated. They were normal-looking sneakers. Not even a pair that the victim had been reported as having worn. And Andrew had happened upon them at a Goodwill while browsing for costume pieces with his girlfriend. There was nothing Andrew could say that would sound plausible enough to avoid becoming the next prime suspect.

Ginny pinched the bridge of her nose, groaned, and then said harshly, "I understand that Camille has apples to harvest, Godfrey, but we need to———interrupt me again and I swear to every God and Goddess you can name I will choke you with your ridiculous bolo. I dare you to test me."

You tried not to laugh, pressed your lips together and grabbed Nanna's hand to share the intensity of your amusement. You were both sat in the living room hunched over a puzzle, a relaxing pastime Nanna shared with you when you were stressed. And, oh boy, were you stressed.

It was your sophomore year; you felt awkward and ugly and you had nothing to wear to Homecoming. Plus, although you knew it was stupid, Walter J. Clark had started haunting you for real, and you maybe-sort-of wanted to impress him. Even if you couldn't have sought out, talked to, or acknowledged him in any way.

Ginny's agitated growl brought you back to the present. She tossed the cordless landline phone onto the couch and collapsed beside it, head on the backrest, fingers massaging her temples.

"All good, sister?" Nanna asked with an almost imperceptible upward curve of her lips, her focus on the scattered puzzle pieces in front of her.

Ginny rolled her head to the side to scowl at her, "They're all idiots and I want a new Circle. In fact, I demand it. Who do I bring this up with?"

Nanna's eyes glittered, "I think we'd have to move, if that's the case."

"Oh, hooey, the Rosenbaum's moved a state over and they still have to suffer Godfrey." Ginny glared into the middle distance, gaze fierce, "We should petition to have them replaced."

"Can you do that?" You asked and glanced between Nanna and Ginny. Surely, that'd be too difficult to manage given the short supply of qualified people with connectedness.

Ginny's eyes twitched, "Even if we can't, I will!" She exclaimed, truly frustrated. "Bloody sheep shaggi—"

"And~ we've sorted enough pieces for today," Nanna interrupted, clapped her knees and rose from her chair, encouraging you to follow her, "Let's get started on supper, sweetpea."

"I want steak!" Ginny called after you and Nanna, "With garlic mash! After putting up with that slow-talker, I've earned it!" And then, to herself, "It takes that man a thousand years to get to the point. I'm seventy-nine, for Chrissakes, I don't have time for that."

Nanna sing-songed back, "You'll get what you're given!"

"It's not too early to pass the baton onto you, you know." Ginny threatened through a pleasant smile.

Apparently, dealing with the Ciorcal was a responsibility nobody wanted because Nanna paused briefly, pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, released it, "Garlic mash, you said?"

Ginny grinned victoriously.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Xavier was exhausted. Last night had taken it right out of him. Surprisingly, confronting Claire (poorly) and getting her confession had been an emotional cakewalk in comparison to the news that your brother-in-law, Dave, was an attempted murderer.

Add in a medical emergency immediately after learning the truth about Dave, and, yeah, Xavier wasn't holding it together too well.

Ginny had been unresponsive when Abigail and Aurora had gone to rouse her to evacuate the house. Completely unconscious, breathing shallow and rattled, eyes hardly dilating when the paramedics examined her before transport.

You'd texted Xavier about Dave thirty minutes before he got the call from Abigail. She'd asked Xavier to relay a message: that your family had been on the way to the hospital to be with Ginny. Claire had been kind enough to drop Xavier off at the hospital immediately thereafter.

He'd seen Andrew in the Emergency waiting room, head in his hands, haggard and distraught. Apparently, Andrew hadn't even heard about Ginny, his phone dead and charging behind the nurse's station. Xavier had made the poor man's life that much more miserable and still felt terrible about it now.

Xavier hadn't left the hospital until Aurora arrived with you. You and he had snuck away for a moment for you to bring Xavier up to date on everything you knew, plus the ghost's qualms about what other side effects the barrier is causing. Like forced lobotomies, you'd said, it's like they weren't able to feel anything that might be considered retroactive. Negative. Curious. It's weird.

Weird was putting it lightly, Xavier mused mildly. The whole damn thing was fucked up.

Crashed back to the present, "Do you know him?" Ajay asked in an attempt to fill the silence.

"Not really," Xavier said, staring into the middle distance, trying to push to the back of his mind why he was on school property on a Saturday. "He used to work with my mom. Saw him at Family Dinner for the last year, but he never really spoke up much." He scoffed, "Kinda hard to open up when my dad's around."

Ajay gave Xavier a skeptical look, "You're sympathizing with the bad guy?"

"No, just making conversation." Xavier pressed his lips together after and glanced down, struggled to find something to say as he waited for you.

He knew Wally hated his guts, but Ajay was hard to read, and Xavier didn't want to assume he was interested in bonding when he wasn't. Even the fledgling yellow thread connecting him to Ajay didn't make Xavier's awkwardness any less.

As comforting as it was to know there was a connection there at all, he wondered how much of it had to do with your influence. If it was some kind of conspiracy-board-yarn thing and not based on emotional and spiritual chemistry.

"So—"

"We don't...have to." Xavier offered, and couldn't help it, he chuckled. "I'm good with sitting in silence."

Ajay huffed an amused breath in return, smiling, "Yeah. Okay." And then he turned his head to look at Xavier. "I'd like to talk. I just don't know if you'd be comfortable with the questions I want to ask."

"Doesn't hurt to ask," Xavier shrugged, nodded at Ajay to go ahead, and tensed as he prepared for the first question.

"Why'd you cheat on Maddie?"

Not what Xavier was expecting, but alright.

"I don't know." Ajay raised a brow. "I'm serious. I don't know. You don't know me at all, but May can tell you. I'm a lot of things. Most of them kinda fucked, but I'd never...do that." He sat quietly for a moment as he contemplated the past, what had led his dick between Claire's legs. "Contemplate it, maybe, intrusive thoughts make great lyrics. But actually go through with it? I hate to say it," He snorted, self-deprecating, "I'm normally too much of a coward."

Ajay didn't say anything for a long minute. Simply sat with the information and processed, content to make Xavier squirm under judgment he wasn't actually putting out.

"Maybe the barrier is fucking with the living, too," Ajay said, and although it sounded like it was meant to be funny, Xavier could tell Ajay took his words seriously.

"Maybe," Xavier conceded, "I was definitely fascinated by Claire. She and Maddie have a lot in common. Both strong, bossy; in different ways, but still." He chewed his tongue in thought. "But I did...I do actually care about Maddie. Might not seem like it, but that's the truth." He sighed, glanced at Ajay, "I don't know why it happened. It was like a dream. It didn't feel real."

"Dissociation?"

"Could be," Xavier shrugged. "Or maybe it is the barrier fucking everybody's shit up." He leaned back against the wall and stared up at the sky. "Or maybe I have a split personality and my alter-ego is a dick."

"Definitely a dick," A new voice cut the air.

Xavier sat up straight and watched Rhonda approach, that trademark permanent scowl only slightly softer than it had been during the week whenever she and Xavier had crossed paths.

Ajay greeted Rhonda as she took a seat on the grass in front of Ajay and Xavier, sitting back on her hands. Xavier followed the barest yellow thread, hardly detectable, that shimmered like spidersilk between him and Rhonda. Connecting her to Ajay was a much thicker, more established white thread.

All the ghosts were connected by white threads, Xavier had observed. As if their connections were so profound, it was impossible to identify them in earthly terms. Or they all secretly hated each other. But Xavier was inclined to believe the first.

Xavier frowned, watching Rhonda and Ajay's thread. There was a flicker of something in it. There and gone.

Black as ink.

His gaze slid from her chest to her face and he realized she'd been watching him.

"You have a problem, you know that, Jim Stark?"

Xavier didn't know the reference, but assumed it wasn't a compliment. He blushed, bowed his head, and cleared his throat, embarrassed, yet unwilling to reveal what he'd actually been looking at. That black stain, like the one he saw in the thread he shared with his dad, it made Xavier uneasy, and until he spoke to you about it, he didn't want to raise a subject he was totally ignorant in.

"Where's Wally?" Rhonda asked Ajay.

"Greenhouse." Ajay answered simply. "Do not disturb," He added when Rhonda made a move to get to her feet.

"Should've known with Deputy Doofus being here," She sneered, though Xavier recognized the hint of playfulness in her tone. Deep, deep within it. But there. "Tell him to come find me when he's done. I want pancakes, and he's the only one who makes them right."

Ajay chuckled, "Will do."

When Rhonda disappeared, Xavier flashed Ajay a confused look, "Why do ghosts eat? Do you need to eat?" He remembered, "I saw Wally eating hot dogs at the Homecoming Game with Maddie. It's weird."

"We don't need to, but Mr. Martin," Who? Xavier didn't ask, "Encourages us to keep up certain rituals we had when we were alive. He says it helps us from becoming like the loopers. Or worse."

"What's worse than playing trombone twenty-four-seven?" Xavier wondered, hearing the blare of the dead band kids from where he and Ajay sat. God, he missed the days when he couldn't hear metaphysical noise.

"Something Mr. Martin calls fading," Ajay explained. "The next step toward inexistence." At Xavier's confuddled expression, Ajay elaborated, "He says you just thin out. Float aimlessly about, totally unconscious, unengaged, unresponsive." He knocked his knuckles against the side of his head, "The lights are on, but no one's home."

"Jesus," Xavier grimaced, "That sounds fucking terrifying." A lull as Xavier digested the information, and then, "Who's Mr. Martin?"

"He's a teacher who died here in '58." Ajay said, tipped his head back against the wall to take in the sun. "The longest standing ghost here. And the only adult."

"Damn. That kinda sucks."

Ajay hummed, "If he thinks so, he hides it well. Personally, I think he's happy he has us. We might not bond with him the way we do each other, but I don't get the sense that he's lonely."

Another lull. "How does he know?"

"Hm?"

Xavier repeated, "How does Mr. Martin know about fading ghosts? Is there one here?"

Ajay didn't move, didn't speak for a moment, just sat quietly to the point that Xavier thought he was being ignored.

Finally, after several beats, "I don't know." And the way Ajay said it made Xavier's hair stand on end.

"You never asked?"

Xavier recalled what you'd said last night—lobotomies—and felt a shiver run down his spine. This school needed a fucking exorcism. Not of the friendly ghosts (especially not your dead boyfriend. Xavier didn't want to end up on the wrong side of the veil because he'd banished Wally's soul into the fabric of the universe). Just the creepy, sinister energy that seemed to permeate the area.

"I never thought I had to," Ajay admitted quietly, frowning at his lap in deep thought. Whatever he was thinking bothered him. As if he were uncovering more pieces to fit a puzzle he'd been assembling for a while.

"Maybe he heard it from one of her family members?" Xavier suggested. "They all went here. I'm sure someone must've said something."

"Could be," Ajay agreed, though he didn't sound entirely convinced. He didn't say anything else, so Xavier figured that's where that particular conversation ended.

For the next twenty minutes, Xavier and Ajay sat in silence again. Not as awkward as it had been before. Just more troubled.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Wally hummed into your hair, held you close and kissed your temple, cheek; rolled onto his side to cradle your jaw, and soak you in with his eyes.

You were beautiful, cheeks still flushed and eyes still glazed, hair disheveled because he'd grabbed fistfuls of it when he'd kissed you, hard and hungry, while you rode him like a sex goddess.

"I love you, baby," He murmured, backs of his fingers gently stroking your cheek. He pressed his forehead against yours, "God, it's like I've been waiting for you forever. I just didn't know it until now."

You smiled, soft, sweet, and nodded, "I feel it, too."

You and Wally were in the greenhouse, cuddled on the still-made bed he and Simon had put together yesterday. Most of the other things had reset and were gone, back in their places inside the school. Everything except what Simon had brought in and set up. Some of the fairy lights, the bed itself; how the tables were arranged.

The things that mattered for a Saturday morning rendezvous with Wally's perfect, alive, ridiculously sexy girlfriend. He beamed. Even just thinking the term made his heartbeat spike and his belly squirm pleasantly.

"I don't understand why now, though," Wally whispered, rolling you onto your back so he could drape his upper half over you. He leaned down, kissed along your shoulder gently. "After two years. Why did the connection explode to bring us together like this now?"

You remained silent for a moment, apart from pleasured little sighs that shot heat straight to Wally's cock, stirring him all over again.

"Maddie," You said. And it sounded like you'd been giving it some thought before this conversation. "I think it's because of how she ended up in the metaphysical world. It...changed things."

Wally nodded. He'd been thinking the same thing recently.

Something else had been plaguing his mind since the theater. Since learning that Amelia had stolen Christopher's body in order to execute her plan to kill Aiden (and possibly you, though thankfully Christopher—God rest his soul—had put a stop to that).

"Baby..." Wally began, propped himself on a forearm to run his fingers soothingly through your hair, "I—"

"Yeah." You said, clearly understanding where Wally's mind had gone. "I don't want that to be what happened, but we can't exclude it."

After a minute, "We know Mr. South didn't kill Maddie," Wally said, lips twisting as he puzzled things out. "But do you really think he could've hurt her to the point she left her body?"

You shook your head, glancing away from Wally to gather your thoughts. "No. I don't. Mr. South might be a little weird, but he wouldn't hurt anyone." A beat. "At least, not if he was himself."

And there it was. The thing everyone had been dancing around since the theater. No one had wanted to be the one to bring it up, not even Maddie, who was willing to believe anything—including her ex-best-friend might've done something horrible to her—if it meant finding her body.

Yet, they couldn't deny that Amelia's interference was a possibility anymore.

"Why Maddie, then?" You asked aloud, despite it obviously being a question you posed to yourself. "There must be a reason."

"Maybe it has to do with bloodlines," Wally said, tone mockingly spooky. "Amelia told him his bloodline was a problem."

"She also said Aiden was the last loose-end, though," You reminded him, gaze returning to his along with your hand to his jaw, thumb grazing across his lower lip. Like you couldn't help yourself, you had to touch him, and he reveled in it.

Kissing the pad of your thumb, "To snuff out," Wally said. "Mads is alive, right? She's not snuffed out. What if Amelia used Mr. South's body, gave Maddie that tea to drug her, and kidnapped her like she kidnapped you and Aiden."

"Possible," You agreed, albeit reluctant. It made sense, Wally knew that, and he could tell you did, too. "Maybe she's getting ready to do another ritual."

"And she took Maddie's body to use?"

"If it's about bloodlines, maybe there's a specific type of person Amelia needs for the ritual work, right?" You suggested, and Wally could see the wheels turning. "I still haven't been able to find anything about that kind of ritual specifically, but it would fit. Blood is an important component in dark rituals like that."

"Black magic," Wally teased, chuckling when you glared at him. "Evil spells."

"Shut up," You groused, but you were smiling. And then you sighed, clenched your eyes closed, and tried to ground yourself. Wally pressed his lips along your collar, fingers of his free hand trailing, featherlike down your side to your hip. Your voice was breathy when you said, "Alright, let's start looking at things from that angle. I'll try and see if other teenagers have been reported missing..."

"Right now?" Wally murmured, voice dark and heated, moving his fingers to the seam of your hip and thigh, "Or later, baby?"

Fuck, he was hard again, thick and hot and needy for you, barely managing to rein in his control.

"Later," You shivered and hooked a leg over his hip, pressing him against you as you ground your pussy against him. His eyes rolled back, and he moaned before you concluded, "Right now, I want you to show me how much you love me."

Wally smirked, rocking forward, rubbing himself between your wet folds, panting at the sensation of how slick and ready you were for him.

"You weren't paying attention before?" He teased, eyes blown, face flushed, God, he'd never get enough of this. "Rude."

You giggled, so fucking sweet, "I was distracted." And you drew him into a deep, slow kiss by the chain of his necklace, your other hand sliding down his back to squeeze his ass and encourage him to move against you. "Show me again."

Which Wally did for longer than was probably wise given where you and he were.

After, dressed, hands clasped, your steps a little wobbly, Wally escorted you back to Xavier. He grinned, smug, when Xavier cringed at the sight of you, the patches of love bites Wally had worked into your skin, how pouty your lips were because Wally had kissed you senseless. How fucking hot you were after Wally had taken you apart and put you back together again.

He couldn't stop himself, gave Xavier a dark look of satisfaction as he held you to his side with a possessive hand on your hip. She's all mine, Wally thought, and wished he had telepathy just to rub it in Xavier's face.

Xavier didn't notice. Or didn't want to notice, eyes on everything but you as he croaked, "Ready to go?"

You turned, rose on your toes to place a kiss on Wally's jaw, "Love you."

Wally pinned you to him, kissed you deep and dirty, made a show of it for Xavier's sake while Ajay groaned in despair. When he pulled back, his eyes were sparkling.

"Love you, pretty girl."

He hated that you had to leave, but, damn, did he like watching you go.

"Please stop looking like that," Ajay begged, mouth twisted in displeasure. He panned his head and gave Wally a look of such discontent, Wally barked a laugh. "Please."

"Sorry, bro," Wally said, only somewhat apologetic.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Simon sat quietly in the interview room, Mrs. Grace on the couch beside him on her phone. It had a remarkably different feel to the interrogation room he'd been in too many times by then.

Softer, warmer, more comfortable. Couches and cushioned chairs, wood furniture, plants that Simon suspected were fake, but looked real enough to set the peaceful vibe.

He'd been called in earlier that morning. Something about the deputies needing to ask him questions about Mr. South and Maddie and if Simon had seen anything irregular between the two in the weeks leading up to Maddie's disappearance.

He obviously hadn't, or he would've said something, and Simon was a little perturbed that the deputies didn't know that. Because it meant he was stuck here instead of at the school with Maddie, looking for clues as to how Mr. South was really involved in her case. If he was really involved in her case.

It'd been half an hour since Deputy Hayes had asked him about Dave and if Simon knew him or about his connection to Mr. Anderson. That had been quick and easy since, no, Simon genuinely knew absolutely fuck all about Dave, only having learned he existed last night.

Unlike the last few times Simon had met with Deputy Hayes, she seemed to believe him immediately. Had nodded, sympathized, treated him like the traumatized seventeen-year-old kid he was, and not a suspect in his best friend's Houdini-turned-possible-murder.

"Sorry for the wait," Sheriff Baxter said as he came in, holding a paper cup of something steamy. "Are you comfortable?"

Simon nodded, "Yeah. Thanks."

He watched Sheriff Baxter take a seat across from him and set his cup down on the coffee table between them. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, appearing honestly concerned and willing to listen. He didn't know why, but Simon felt uneasy about the way Sheriff Baxter moved.

"Alright, let's get down to it." Sheriff Baxter said, holding Simon's gaze. Intense. Like he was penetrating Simon's skull to look for the truth. "Did you see anything suspicious the night Maddie went missing?"

Simon shook his head, "No. Nothing. It's like I told you before, everything seemed normal."

As the conversation continued, the steam from Sheriff Baxter's cup wafted toward Simon, and he caught a whiff of it. He stiffened in his seat, swallowed, tasted the notes of fucking soap and perfume, and almost gagged.

He must've made a face because the Sheriff asked, "Are you sure Mr. South wasn't involved in any way with Maddie?"

Simon gave him a disgusted look.

"It doesn't have to mean sexual, Simon. I mean, did they have private conversations? Were they seen alone together before? Did Maddie have a reason to seek Mr. South out by herself?"

Again, Simon shook his head, "If she did, I didn't know about it." Like he hadn't known about Mr. Anderson helping Maddie after Sandra had crashed the car into a tree...

Sheriff Baxter nodded, took a sip of his tea, and then placed it back on the table. Closer to Simon. Hardly a fraction, but now that Simon was paying attention, it seemed odd.

"Has Mr. South ever had private conversations with other students?"

"I'm not sure."

"Has he ever had an altercation with a student?"

"No, I don't think so," Simon said, eyes still on the tea.

Sheriff Baxter tilted his head, "Do you want a cup?"

Immediately, "No. No...thank you," Simon denied, forced a smile to his face, and peeled his eyes up to meet Sheriff Baxter's. Before he could stop himself, he blurted, "You drink that stuff a lot?"

"It helps keep me calm," The Sheriff said with a small, almost imperceptible smirk.

"It smells like shit," Simon returned in a snarky tone.

Sheriff Baxter shrugged, "But it works."

The interview continued. Simon answered everything he was asked. Not that he had anything useful to contribute. And throughout the rest of the interview, that tea had moved closer and closer to the middle of the coffee table. Closer to Simon. The Sheriff's eyes boring into him every time, as if watching for his response.

Simon didn't give him one.

In the end, the Sheriff stood when Simon did and held out his hand, "If you think of anything, let me know."

"Sound good," Simon said, already halfway to the door without a backward glance. He needed to get the hell out of that room, the tea-stink somehow denser than it had been in the first minute Simon had been forced to sit in it.

"And Simon," The Sheriff stopped him, his hand fitting over the door handle before Simon could reach for it. He smiled at Simon, something akin to friendly, "Thanks for being there for her last night. I'm glad she has a friend like you." He paused, made a face that Simon couldn't read, but it wasn't nice, "After all, with the way my son's been behaving recently..." He stopped, smiled again, "It's good to know she has someone dependable in her life."

Simon stared at Sheriff Baxter, taken aback by the praise. He felt uncomfortable, blood buzzing, skin prickling. He pulled a smile and nodded.

"Yeah, of course. That's what friends do."

The Sheriff released the handle and stepped back, bobbed his head politely toward Mrs. Grace, then waved to Simon. "Take care of yourself, kid."

Simon thanked him and hurried down the hall, his phone already out, typing frantically.

The police are drinking the cult tea.

💀___________________________

PART SIX - PART EIGHT

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

#Milo Manheim #Wally Clark #Wally Clark x Reader #Sarah Yarkin #Rhonda Rosen #Spencer Macphearson #Xavier Baxter #October Moon #fem!reader #Wally Clark smut #Wally Clark fanfiction #Milo Manheim fanfiction #School Spirits #zed necrodopolis #Disney Zombies

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mingus-archives · 1 year ago

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"The Tell-Tale Heart"

Okay so I want to preface this that I have not read much Edgar Allen Poe so I will be missing those layers in my perspective, but anyways something that really struck me in "The Tell-Tale Heart" episode of The Fall of The House of Usher was the moments after Victorine throws the book end at Ali.

Before this, we're presented with this version of Victorine who may be stressed and pressured but ultimately does not actively appear to be amoral. She's just being put in a bad position by her shit father; she wants to do good and develop a life-saving medical device, and she just has to cut corners to stay afloat. It's only Camille who seems convinced Victorine is some awful person.

Then, the bookend. Another cut corner. Instead of talking things out with Ali or being patient, she acts impulsively and immediately to stop the problem. It's just like the first time she dosed the chimpanzee with epinephrine during surgery in a panic when she realized the device wasn't working. She hits Ali in the head and, on realizing the severity of her actions, runs over to her.

Ali is bleeding out on the floor, her body writhing horribly and she lets out these awful choked noises. Victorine goes to her and seems immediately horrified and brokenhearted. Then, the security guard checks in through the door. The guard is concerned over the scuffling noises overheard.

And Victorine fucking says to him, "Have you never heard a woman getting eaten out before?"

Her girlfriend is dying by her hand, and she pretends the sounds of her dying are the noises of sexual pleasure. This to me is the reveal, this is when the audience truly sees that Victorine does not have and never had a heart. The love she's shown, for her passion, her girlfriend, her device, is nothing more than mistaken greed. It's a mechanical heartbeat, it sounds almost like a heartbeat, but it's a pale imitation to anyone who pays attention. And like with Ali's corpse, the mechanical heart of Victorine is just keeping a soulless body alive.

The Fall of the House of Usher structurally represents the family itself: it begins with the announcement of the deaths of all the children. The children are dead from the beginning of the show. And as Annabel points out, the children in the story were dead from the start, killed by greed and wealth. And then we learn that they were literally dead, as Roderick and Madeline had already sold their lives for wealth before they were even born. We're not seeing the family die, we're seeing the final moments of corpses decomposing. We're seeing the dilapidated house finally collapse. The Fall of the House of Usher is not about death, it's about the walking dead, like the visions of Roderick. A family kept alive with a mechanical device just going through the motions.

#the fall of the house of usher #fall of the house of usher #the fall of the house of usher spoilers #the fall of the house of usher meta #tfothou #tfothou spoilers #alessandra ruiz #camille l'espanaye #victorine usher #victorine #the tell tale heart #syds thoughts #my thoughts #syds analysis #my analysis

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grlsbstshot · 5 months ago

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Hi! We're B & S! If you've found your way here, it's for a reason. Let's get the official stuff out of the way:

Disclaimer: These fics are intended for mature audiences (18+ only) due to themes, language, and explicit content. The content on the blog is not safe for work. We are not responsible if minors choose to ignore this warning. By proceeding, you confirm that you are of the proper age to engage with this content. Respect the Content Warnings: The stories and one-shots written on this blog by us may include sensitive topics, themes, or character behavior. Please check any content warnings provided before reading. They will always be at the start of the post. Be sure to read them carefully before proceeding. Updates: Due to work schedules and other activities, updates may not always be frequent, but patience is appreciated. Encouragement: Please feel free to reblog, comment, etc. on posts and story updates. We absolutely would love to read comments and geek out with everyone. Commentary: While we do love hearing from you guys, please refrain from using slurs or the like about our characters. Especially the women. Don't call black women monkeys or whores. Especially not on this blog. You will be blocked.

Masterlist below the cut !

NEON LIGHTS Novella - Chapters

In the glitzy world of Hollywood, it can be easy to crash and burn under the California sun. Few are more self-sabotaging than R&B singer/songwriter, Jameson Lucas. The only thing the charming playboy is known for more than his long list of lovers is his Grammy wins. Imani St. Cirie, an emotive singer/songwriter herself, is the latest in a long line of women he's wronged but she's determined to different. Imani refuses to let Jameson make or break her. The two A-listers are consistently drawn together by an electric chemistry that neither can deny or easily manage. As common sense pulls them in opposite directions -- friendships are tested, old flames resurface, and new opportunities threaten to tear them apart for good. They must decide if their love is strong enough to withstand the weight of the mistakes in their past. In this industry, dreams can make or break you -- but what happens when love becomes the gamble of a lifetime?

Chapters:

Extra, Extra:

Music Releases:

Imani: Diary | EP Jameson: Midnight & Dawn | Album

Main Cast:

Aaron Pierre as Jameson Lucas Megan Pete as Imani St. Cirie Jayme Lawson as Genie Adesanya Kelvin Harrison Jr. as Ellington Dupree

Supporting Cast:

Lori Harvey as Sloane Lennox Kofi Siriboe as Christian McKay Kysre Gondrezick as Camille Leferve Skepta as Isaiah Ellis

Guest Appearances:

Halle Berry as Anaïs Lucas, Jameson's mother Beyoncé Knowles-Carter as Toni St. Cirie, Imani's aunt Sterling K. Brown as Kendrick Adesanya, Genie's father Nia Long as Nina Dupree, EJ's mother Marsai Martin as Ella Dupree, EJ's sister Michael Ealy as Julian Gautreau, Jameson's father Marcus Scribner as Lucian Gautreau, Julian & Toni's son

LOVE LANGUAGE Novella - Chapters

Overcoming emotional obstacles and family dysfunction, Genie and EJ prepare for their lavish Parisian wedding. The couple and their loved ones arrive in Paris the week before the big day. Beneath the glamorous façade of wedding plans simmers a deep-seated tension and a little calculated sabotage goes a long way to shatter the joyful occasion. As Genie navigates the turmoil of her fractured family unit, Camille Leferve stands on the precipice of a life-altering revelation. The truth about the father of her unborn child emerges and she has to pick up the pieces of her life as Kendrick’s guilt threatens to swallow him whole. After a fateful encounter, Jameson stumbles upon a shocking family secret when he meets his younger brother, Lucian. The revelation of Lucian’s origins – a concealed affair between Imani’s aunt and Jameson’s father – sends shockwaves through their lives, challenging their perceptions of loyalty and family connections. As the wedding day draws near, the city becomes a stage for a crescendo of secrets and revelations, each poised to collide with explosive force at any moment.

Chapters:

Main Cast:

Aaron Pierre as Jameson Lucas Megan Pete as Imani St. Cirie Jayme Lawson as Genie Adesanya Kelvin Harrison Jr. as Ellington Dupree

Supporting Cast:

Lori Harvey as Sloane Lennox Kofi Siriboe as Christian McKay Kysre Gondrezick as Camille Leferve Marcus Scribner as Lucian Gautreau

Guest Appearances:

ONE-SHOTS Short Stories

A collection of standalone moments from the lives of various characters. These snapshots delve into untold encounters and fleeting drama.

Make Her Mine

Model-turned-actress-turned-hotshot publicist, Toni St. Cirie, puts her career first over any man. But what happens when actor, Nasir Holmes, enters her life hoping to become her next beau? Cast: Beyoncé Knowles-Carter as Toni St. Cirie Lucky Daye as Nasir Holmes

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aklaustaleteller · 5 months ago

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Hey so I was wondering i love angst and well I wanted to ask if you could write a one shot or it can be longer if you want to ofc if you like the idea if not then it's totally fine I understand.

So hear me out Y/n Is the original heretic and she's dating Klaus and one day she gets home ( she lives with the Mikealson's) and finds Klaus cheating on her with Camille so she obviously gets mad and as he tries to explain himself she asks for how long she's been cheating on her and he says a few weeks. But as he tries to explain himself again she breaks up with him and snaps his neck with magic not wanting to hear anything then she turn to Camille and uses her magic against her making her feel pain before knocking her out she then leaves the house and goes to a bar and then lucien enters the bar and notices Klaus's girlfriend there. He goes up to her and uses his charm to flirt with her but quickly notices she has been crying and asks what happened. She reluctantly tell him and he feels bad for her since he knows what it's like to go through a heart break ( AURORA) and asks if she would like to stay with him in his penthouse Y/n at firsts says no but then realizes she has no where else to go and agrees. Once they arrived to his house they continued drinking one thing lead to another and well yk what happened, the next morning she wakes up before Lucien realizes what happened but doesn't feel guilty because at least she wasn't in a relationship therefore free to do whatever she wants. As the time goes on, she gets closer to Lucien, and they secretly start dating, and she knew Klaus was looking for her she had heard from Elijah, but no one except Lucien knew where she was staying at. So fast forward to the dinner yk with tristen aurora lucien Elijah Klaus and Freya. Y/n asked lucien to let be a part of his plan. So she pretends that he also kidnaps her along with Camille, so lucien tells Klaus he has both Camille and y/n, who he had, like I said before looking for and obviously gets even more mad. She completely ignores Camille's attempts to say sorry/ explain herself but in the end she ' Helps' her escape and when lucien and Klaus arrive unlike in the show they are still there and we'll I Don't know what else to add but lucien endgame please and she makes sure to make Klaus suffer for cheating on her. Only if you like and are comfy writing this. If not, I completely understand you can change or add whatever makes you comfortable 💖

Down Bad

In the two weeks that Y/n had been gone, Klaus had turned out to be quite an unfaithful man. However, Lucien Castle has been down bad for Y/n since he first met her, in a bar drowning away her sorrows. And he'll do anything for her – even if it meant lending her a helping hand to torture a man.

Warnings - Conspiring, mentions of infidelity, drinking alcohol, some smut ...and yeah!

Word Count - 4.7k

Masterlist | please reblog the fic if you like it!

Hi hi hi!! I'm so sorry that I kept you waiting so long. anon, and I truly hope you enjoy reading the fic! Other than that, I didn't include any torture in the fic, simply because it didn't feel quite natural? I don't know, it's kind of an open ending (sorry!) Other than that, one thing you should know about me is that I'm a Klaus girly, so you should also know that writing this was hard for me JSFJAKFSH But for you anon, I wrote Lucien like he should totally belong to you! And once again, I really hope you all enjoy this fic!

It was a breezy morning. Leaves were drifting off of tree branches and smell of melancholy hazed everyone's senses.

Y/n was walking on wet cobblestones, her heels clicking as she walked against the harsh wind that also made her feel a bit alive. She could feel her magic coursing through her body; whether it was in her blood or her bones, she hadn’t yet had the pleasure of finding out and finally getting to that itch in her brain.

She felt giddy, however, when she caught a whiff of the apple cider donuts from the bag she had cradled in the swing of her elbow. Having bought them especially for Klaus, she wouldn't mind too much sharing some with his siblings, who felt like they were hers too.

Turning around the corner, an excited squeak escaped her throat at the sight of all the Mikaelson siblings, except for the one who she loved in a faintly different way, standing just outside their mansion.

Rebekah saw her first and her troubled expression quickly melted into genuine happiness, with her mouth stretching into a full grin and her hands coming out of the coat pockets to welcome Y/n into her arms, who came running into them.

"God, finally the sun's out," Rebekah rasped, tightening her embrace and inhaling deeply. Y/n rubbed her back as she let go, blinking away her tears at the feeling of being someone who someone wanted around.

"Only for you," she sniffled and laughed, ignoring Kol's quick protest to that.

She had been away for two weeks, hosting and attending workshops as a fresh associate professor in the field of Forensic Science. She could still feel the exhaustion which had sunk deep into her bones and yet she up, out and about, because she had missed everyone too much to sleep in for one more hour.

"I was thinking we could go apple picking?" Rebekah suggested with a blinding grin, even though she probably wouldn't budge were Y/n to deny.

"Right now?"

Rebekah nodded furiously, her shoulders bunching up when a cold breeze traced her face.

Y/n looked around, wondering if it was only her who could see the dreary weather and the dark circles underneath her eyes, and checked her wristwatch to confirm that it was legitimately half past ten in the morning.

When no one seemed to have come back to their senses and suggested a later time, Y/n faced her friend reluctantly.

"I guess we could," she began, her body uptight. "But let me see Klaus first," she quipped, her smile no more embarrassed than herself.

Elijah and Freya rolled their eyes, and Rebekah and Kol groaned. The latter duo never shied away from stating their opinion on just about anything.

"I'll be quick I swear," she touched her throat, and smiled sweetly. But no one budged.

Only Kol took away the paperbag from her to peek inside, laughing in delight when he opened it. And with his hand disappearing inside, his mouth took shape in a lopsided grin – "You didn't have to do this darling," he teased her.

Y/n’s face had gone quite grim, and she snatched the bag.

"They aren't for you," she said through her teeth while smiling, and passed a quick pleading look to the blonde Rebekah standing beside her as she began her brisk walk inside after shooting Kol a quick, cautioning glare.

"I'd rather you not go!" Elijah shouted after her, his voice a little croaky from what she assumed was due to its lack of use.

"Just, let it happen," Y/n heard someone murmur.

But she didn't say anything in return, literally running up the stairs, excited to see Klaus' reaction to his favourite sweet treat in the entirety of the world, and ready to beg him to join them on their little adventure.

She took long strides through the hallway, her heels clicking away whilst she unbuttoned her coat with one hand. But it was when she reached Klaus' room that all thoughts flew from her mind, and she was left frozen on her ground, halted.

There he was, standing at the foot of his bed, looking still like what he had on the day Y/n had realised how stupidly she was in love with him. Seeing him after two weeks felt like she'd left her desk and come outside for a walk with a warm coffee clutched in between her palms.

He was looking at her too, just as caught off guard as she felt – by his mere beauty. And it made Y/n feel a certain kind of way; maybe it was the fact that she felt like she hadn’t been forgotten, or the fact that he was looking at her like she had seen him look back at his paintings.

But she also knew this – artists usually looked back at their piece of work with a fistful of critiques and flaws. And Y/n sighed, for she hated coming across her own lack of comparison skills.

A shy smile played on her mouth and it was when she strolled a couple steps further into the room, that she noticed Camille on his bed – in lingerie.

"Camille?" Y/n spoke as softly as a breath in the winter, her voice visible only for a second before it disappeared into thin air.

She looked towards Klaus, who stood still even now. Then she put the bag of donuts on the desk beside her, her mind swarming with thoughts that made her feel too shameful to admit to herself.

"I'd say I'm very glad to see you," she began, her voice a little shaky like it wasn't prepared to utter the words waiting at the back of her throat.

"But I feel like I just interrupted something."

Y/n could suddenly feel her heart, and how heavy it was and how it was hammering against her chest so harshly that she feared it might burst into millions of shreds.

"Is either of you going to say something?" She let out an uneasy laugh, one that tasted quite bitter.

Camille broke out of her stance and instead of speaking to Y/n, she began to scramble for her things, reaching for Klaus' shirt that was lying right beside her on the bed once she was done tying back her hair in a bun.

Y/n felt all of the blood rush to her face, and she ground her teeth, not wanting to say something quite as dirty as she’d been done.

"So we’ve reached this stage, huh," Y/n exclaimed; her eyes wild as she looked at Klaus. "My fucking god –," Y/n started, gasping loudly. “This isn’t the first time, is it?” She asked, sounding a little to glad upon connecting the dots.

"You cheated on me," she stated, her bottom lip quivering having said it out loud.

Klaus wasn’t even looking at her, his eyes taking in his carpet for the first time.

Y/n turned to look at Camille, someone whom she had trusted and whose ears had gone pink and eyes, round, now. Camille cleared her throat under her glare and began to fidget.

"We were just breaking things off," she muttered, eyes set on the mattress.

Y/n took a shuddering breath, trying to calm herself and force her magic back down, something which was ferociously triggered as of now.

She turned around to face the wall, rubbing her face in order to merge the tears that had pooled in her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she turned around, flailing her arms once before leaving them by her side – she didn't want to fold them across her chest and look as defensive as she felt.

Y/n wasn't going to lie, she had grown quite fond of Camille. Grateful with how much she had helped Klaus, but right now, as she stood in front of her, Y/n couldn't help but feel betrayal seep into her skin and crawl up her abdomen to clutch her heart.

Instead of a sister that Y/n'd never had, she could now see that Camille was a crook who was caught. She shook her head, unable to stand when she'd been stabbed in the back so brutally.

She had to leave, it was time to go. She'd promised Rebekah that she'd be quick.

Feeling an all too familiar ache spreading throughout her body, Y/n fixed her purse on her shoulder and wiped her nose on the cuff of her cardigan's sleeve. The rash lightly burned her skin, but it felt nothing like the pain she was feeling all over.

She walked out of the room with her head low, her teardrops falling straight on the floor. Once she was out of the room, she ran.

She ran down the stairs, sobs racing out of her throat, and her face crumbling into a million pieces.

And just as she was about to cross over the threshold of the mansion, Klaus' voice boomed from the top of the stairs.

"Y/n! --"

Y/n turned around with a glare, her eyes burning with hatred aimed towards him. Before he could've said anything more, Y/n snapped his neck. She hadn't lifted her hand, hadn’t felt the magic coarse through her being so when he dropped on the floor, she froze for a second before realising what had happened.

He’d wake up soon enough, and Y/n didn’t want to be there when he did. She turned back around just in time Camille came rushing out of the room – which Y/n assumed was because of hearing her old lover’s voice get cut off, followed by a loud thump.

Irritation caused her to grind her teeth and Y/n opened her palm towards her, watching as Camille knelt and writhed in pain. Before she would have snapped her neck too, the blonde fainted on her own.

Scoffing, Y/n walked back outside.

When she saw Rebekah and others standing there, she stole her gaze and used her magic to transport her from the Mansion's ground to three streets down the road, on the one that led to the Mystic grill.

Racing to the bar-cafe using her Vampire speed, she halted just outside. She rubbed her face, tousled and retied her hair – all in hopes that she wouldn’t give away how miserable she was.

Finding herself a seat at the bar, it wasn’t long before Y/n was swirling the last swig of her old-fashioned in the glass. Her eyes kept watering each passing second, and they were beginning to hurt now since she kept rubbing at them.

Realising that the alcohol might just be enhancing her emotions, she decided it’d be better for her to just go home and take a bath. So she gulped the last of her drink, nodded at the bartender out of habit, grabbed her purse and climbed off her chair.

Her breath left her lungs all at once when she walked right into someone who seemed like he was just about to tap her on the shoulder. Flinching away at the strong scent of a vampire, she immediately felt embarrassed to have made eye contact with a stranger while her eyes were probably red due to crying. That too in a bar.

She hated Klaus, and she hated Camille. And she hated herself for feeling this much while the other two were probably in the same bed, forgiving each other for what they did to her.

“Are you alright?” Was the first thing he said to her, and Y/n wanted to bury her face in the ground and never look back up again.

Choosing to look behind him at the exit gate, Y/n nodded, tucking her already neat hair behind her ear. They were standing too close, she realised when he took a step back.

“I am,” she nodded tightly, looking for an opportunity to step past him and end herself.

“How about a drink to drown your sorrows?” He teased her, already gesturing towards the seats behind them.

Y/n turned to look at the bar, then faced him again. “Only if you want a random woman to tell you her sob story,” she chuckled dryly, shrugging as if to say ‘it is what it is.’

Laughing, he walked past her and she caught a whiff of cinnamon, vanilla and cedarwood all at once. It was an addictive smell, so she decided to stick around for a while longer to hopefully exchange the memory of this one with the scent of black pepper and leather that Klaus carried around with him.

He was still standing as she slipped back on her previous seat. He asked her about her preference, and wrinkled his nose when she mentioned old-fashioned.

“What!” She protested defensively, making a face of her own when he ordered himself a neat whiskey.

“Okay, okay,” he grinned, surrendering before he sat down on the stool right next to hers. He leaned back a little, so Y/n rested her head on the bar itself, looking up at him.

“I was promised a story time,” he passed her a faux glare, which made her laugh; and then tear up.

“Y/n,” she stuck out her hand, and laughed with him when he laughed.

“Lucien,” he nodded seriously, shaking her hand.

“So my boyfriend cheated on me with his therapist,” she began, her voice cracking but she chuckled when Lucien’s eyes widened. “I had only been gone for two weeks,” she shrugged.

“Well, he’s not exactly a very far-sighted man, from what I hear?”

Y/n laughed at that, then closed her eyes to stop the wave of tears from crashing through her eyes.

Lucien seemed to notice that because Y/n heard him sigh then.

“If it helps in any way, I’ve also been cheated on once,” he shrugged, and Y/n looked at him with intrigue.

“It was brutal, she’d been the love of my life, and then I found out that she’d been having an affair with Klaus,” the name slipped off his tongue dripping in poison, and Y/n’s mouth twisted as if she’d just tasted it.

“Klaus? …Mikaelson, you mean?”

“Yeah?” He answered her, unsure why she’d picked up on it.

“He’s literally who I've been talking about!”

Lucien’s face contorted. “You’re Klaus’ girlfriend?” He exclaimed, unbelieving.

“Well, was,” Y/n spoke in a small voice.

Neither of them spoke, and Y/n counted as the clock ticked 60 times.

“Well, that’s a… coincidence,” Lucien said in a dry voice.

Y/n hummed in response. She had a feeling that he was going to leave any time now, so she focused on her breathing – specifically on his cologne.

“I should leave now,” Y/n was surprised to find that she was the one who said it first. She passed him a quick smile, and leaned in to press a quick kiss to his cheek before she could’ve thought herself out of it.

When she backed away, she was sure she knew the cologne well enough to be able to create it back at home with her spells. But she’d only been a breath away when Lucien’s hand crept to the back of her head and their mouths connected, settling a fierce hunger in depths of their bones.

She ended up following him inside the taxi, and kissing him in the backseat the whole way back to his place.

“Good god, you’re killing me,” Lucien groaned as his hips slammed in Y/n’s as she laid naked beneath him, panting and moaning his name.

“Harder,” she asked of him and he obliged, driving into her again and again until she was coming undone for the third time, a quivering mess, overstimulated.

He fell beside her then, his chest falling up and down, and sweat lining his forehead. “You don’t regret this, do you?”

“I’d be a fool to,” she said distantly, as if falling asleep. And Lucien let her, bringing up the duvet upon both of them and turning on his side to hold her as he gave into his own urge to sleep, failing to wipe the small smile off his mouth.

—

Y/n hadn’t known – hadn’t been prepared – to feel so ugly upon being cheated. She didn’t want to look anyone in the eyes, had wrapped her red scarf up enough to cover her mouth.

Wearing all black beneath her trench coat and her hair drifting past her as she walked faster than usual to reach her office. But when she turned into the lane, “oh shit,” she cursed under her breath and turned back around.

Klaus was standing outside, a bouquet of red roses in his hand.

Resting her back against a wall, she took a shaky breath while blinking away the water in her eyes. “Do not give in,” she whispered tightly, drawing back her shoulders and walking back on the street.

He saw her, and didn’t draw away his gaze even once until she stood in front of him, the gates to her emotions shut and locked.

“I’m sorry.”

Y/n looked down at the bouquet of white lilies he held out for her.

“Hope you still love them,” he whispered.

Y/n accepted them.

Pursing her lips, she sighed. “Why’d you do it?” Her eyes were beginning to sting as she withled the urge to blink.

“It …it just happened,” he looked away, the tips of his ears a shade of pink Y/n would’ve declared as her favourite had this not been the circumstance.

“And you decided to keep going with it? Makes absolute sense!”

“Look I’m sorry I wasn’t in my right mind! I was stressed and –”

“Didn’t know getting stressed made men cheat on their partners!”

“Just –” Klaus began to protest, then took a deep breath. “Let me explain, please.”

“No way in hell,” Y/n spat. “Why are you explaining yourself anyways? It’s not like I’ll get back with you,” her hand gestures were getting a lot more intense, and she clenched her fists in frustration.

“I know –”’

“Oh? So you’re here because you want to feel good about yourself?” Y/n laughed dryly, then actually. With her head thrown back, she laughed until tears blurred her sight of the grey sky.

“You are a fucking bastard and the most self-centred man I’ve ever had the bad luck of having in my life,” she gritted, swatting away the lone tear that slid down her cheek.

Klaus’s eyes flickered, unable to look into her burning eyes, and unable to look away.

“You just made this a lot worse by showing up today,” she smiled, taking a step closer to him, gazing up in his eyes. “Now you’ll wait and watch like a good pup as I make you regret ever meeting me,” with a new found glimmer in her eyes, she stepped back, looking into Klaus’ shameful and angry eyes.

“That’s my last promise to you,” she winked bitterly, turning back around and walking up the stairs to the college.

She gave the flowers to the librarian, wishing him an early thanksgiving and getting back a loud and well-aware laugh out of him.

—

“Hello?”

“Hello, professor,” she could just hear the cheeky grin on his mouth, and tried to ease the smile on her face.

“Lucien,” she looked at the ground, rolling her lips as she felt giddy.

He cleared his throat, and Y/n put on her serious face.

“So, here’s the plan – I’m coming to pick you up, and then we’re going to sit on the floor of either of our rooms, and chat over some tea.”

Y/n was nothing if not amused, and utterly down for it.

“Alright,” she nodded. “Be here in five or I might just walk off the face of Earth.”

“Oh I won’t let that happen, my lady!” He shouted, sounding panicked to his core. “Cut the call, Y/n, I need to hurry!” He laughed, making a few kissing noises before Y/n decided to finally cut the call.

She was still giggling when she heard a voice from behind.

“He seems better for you.”

Elijah was standing with his hands tucked into his coat pockets.

“Lucien, I mean,” he continued.

Y/n’s eyes watered. Rushing forward, she fell into his arms.

Elijah shushed her, matting her hair while his other hand rubbed her back.

“You’ve broken up with our brother, Y/n. Why are you distancing yourself from the rest of us?” He asked softly, but assertively. “Thought we were brothers and sisters?”

“I’m sorry,” Y/n was quivering in his arms and not wanting to face him.

Silence overtook the both of them. For the six months that Y/n had been in a relationship with Klaus, she’d also found herself another family. Elijah, Finn, Kol, Freya and Rebekah had become so much more to her than just friends. They’d become to her the siblings that she’d never had.

“I’m just so …bad,” she broke down, unable to articulate herself while drowning in her misery. “Klaus cheated on me, but I’m no better, ‘Lijah, I –” she stopped to catch her breath that seemed to be walking two steps ahead of her.

“I went and slept with another man, Lijah,” she sobbed.

“It’s okay, love,” Elijah rasped, still caressing her. Feeling his heart crumble inside his ribs as Y/n couldn’t seem to stop the sobs raking through her body.

“At least you didn’t cheat on him,” he said, holding in his anger. “You guys were already broken up.”

“Please don’t let Klaus know this yet,” she sniffled. “I don’t want him to know anything about me anymore.”

A car pulled up in front of them, and its engine’s roar stuttered to a faint halt.

“Y/n?”

She pulled away from Elijah's chest, and wiped her face.

“Hi,” she whispered, then sniffled.

“Take her home, Lucien. And take care of her,” Elijah nodded, kissing Y/n’s temple as she looked at him longingly while walking away.

“I’ll come over tomorrow, we still haven’t gone apple picking!” She shouted as Lucien opened the passenger side’s seat for her.

“We’ll be waiting,” Elijah smiled, waving goodbye.

Y/n slipped inside, watching as the air stilled where Elijah had once been.

Lucien leaned over to cup her face in both of his cold hands, his thumb caressing her cheeks. He looked into her eyes, unsure whether it was the right time to kiss her.

Y/n seemed to notice that, and she herself leaned in to press her lips on his. Their noses smushing as Lucien reacted right away, still as passionate as he had been the day prior.

She could feel the growing heat between them, and it felt like a faint lantern’s soft glow was flickering inside her chest.

“God, I want to kill him,” Lucien gritted, his eyes shut as he pressed his forehead against hers.

“Me too,” she said, and looked away out of the window with a smile playing on her mouth when he bursted out laughing.

—

By the time Y/n had finished telling Lucien about her feud with Klaus earlier in the day, he’d drunk two big cups of tea and was slipping inside the oven the teacake batter Y/n had prepared.

“I cannot even fathom the embarrassment he must’ve felt but it was well deserved so –” he trailed off, frowning when Y/n swatted at his arm.

“But what’s more significant than that, is how cool and villainy you were! You’ve successfully given me the hots, for sure.”

Y/n laughed, bowing from where she was sitting on the kitchen counter.

“Now you know not to get on my bad side,” she said in a deep voice, flexing and kissing her bicep.

Lucien laughed, and kissed her other bicep.

“But tell me this, do you plan on following up with your threat?”

She looked like he had insulted her.

“Of course, you twit!”

Lucien gasped loudly, drawing himself away from her. “You did not just call me that!”

“I’m sorry!” She drew the word out, until he pursed his lips for her to kiss and she obliged.

“I really want to trouble him,” she started, looking at Lucien who was now serious. “Ruffle up his feathers a bit, you know?”

Lucien hummed.

“So you want to tie him up and do your little witchcraft on him?”

Y/n grinned widely.

“It’s not too late in the day to do that now, is it?” He asked, checking Y/n’s wrist watch by getting close to her face as she read it.

She kissed his forehead, and he melted into her neck. Cooing at him, Y/n laughed, ruffling up the back of his hair.

“Are you serious, Lucien?”

“As serious as you are,” he shrugged. “Also, my basement’s empty.”

“You say like you have a body tied in there all the time,” she looked at him with narrowed eyes, shaking her head when he shrugged again.

“A secret for another day, I see,” she mumbled, causing him to chuckle.

“But how are we going to get him here?” Lucien asked, following her out into the living room.

“Tell him you have me hostage, maybe even Camille, since he might care about her more now,” she shrugged.

Lucien looked at her for a minute, and then pulled out his phone.

He dialled the number as Y/n recited it.

“Klaus,” Lucien growled, glaring at Y/n who slapped a hand over her mouth.

“Who’s this?” He asked impatiently, and Lucien snickered silently.

“I’ve got Y/n with me, tied up and looking all pretty, crying only your name,” he said in a low voice, hissing when Y/n pinched him at his side.

To cover up, he continued. “And have you seen your darling, Camille in a while?” He asked, setting an open trap for Klaus to stroll into.

“You shouldn’t have done this,” Klaus growled and cut the phone.

“What the hell do we do now?” Lucien asked, sliding his phone across the coffee table.

“I’ll cast a desiccation spell on him, tie him up, then remove the spell. He’ll be weak and have no choice but endure the torture as long as tomorrow lasts.”

Lucien’s mouth was hanging open. “Are you naturally this quick at these kind of things or are you a mastermind?” He asked, looking at her in awe.

“Try being an original heretic and you’ll find out,” she smirked, and Lucien nodded.

“Nice one,” he said.

They both waited in silence, causing them to immediately pick up on Klaus’s angry footsteps approaching.

“Lucien, if you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to,” she said seriously, holding his hand.

“What? Are you kidding?” He shrieked. “I’ve been excited for this since you mentioned the first time!”

Y/n laughed at that, and kissed him twice on the mouth before rushing over to the main door.

Klaus kicked on the door and Y/n held out her arm before it could’ve fallen on her.

“Y/n? What –”

She was already whispering the spell under her breath speedily, the only sound going in Klaus’ ears was similar to that of the fluttering wings of a Goldfinch.

The colour began to sink into his skin before it had completely drowned deep into his bones, and all that was left behind was a shade of grey similar to that of a tombstone.

Before he could’ve hit the ground, Lucien threw a rope around him from behind. Twisting it around his arms down to his ankles, he tightened it enough to leave indentations even on his hardened skin.

“I’m so down bad for you, it’s scary,” Lucien excalimed, tying a knot behind Klaus’ back.

Y/n’s breath came out within a laugh.

“You know, I really like you,” she stated.

Lucien hissed and nodded towards Klaus’ body on the floor. “Not the best timing, I’m afraid,” he said quite regretfully, and accepted Y/n’s kiss on his mouth before stepping back to where Klaus was.

Y/n crouched down then, and slipped the Lapis Lazuli off Klaus’ finger, fondling it in her palm while Lucien dragged Klaus into the basement, where the light of sunrise would pour in just enough the coming morning.

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anotherhumaninthisworld · 1 month ago

Text

Camille’s long and uphill battle to get Lucile

Monsieur, I am not mistaken and I am forced to agree that your letter is worthy of a father and full of wisdom. The first moments of pain that I experienced were followed by the calm of reason, and I take advantage of this calm to allow myself a few observations regarding your letter and putting them before your eyes.

Don't let my probity scare you. The reflections that M. Duplessis made me make on your [sic] uncertain state. My uncertain state is not uncertain. I am a lawyer in the parliament of Paris and what makes your state certain in this profession is not to be on the board, but talent and work. I am certain morally of being in charge of all the appeals of the sentences of Guise, which alone will compose for me an honest cabinet and an income of 7 or 8,000 livres at least; I cannot believe that there exists anyone who, after having read the memoir that is printed about me at this moment, tells you that my condition is uncertain. The letters I have from MM. Lorget and Linguet would prove to you, if you read them, that my condition is not uncertain. Already I have a flow of business which can only grow and I will have won a hundred louis this year, supposing that I lose the lawsuit which is about to be judged and whose gain would be worth more than two thousand écus to me.

On future events which may call me back to the provinces. I took a vow to stability in the bar of the capital, this vow is expressed clearly in the epistle and the printed memorandum which I gave to you. There exists only one thing that could make me detach from Paris and make a stay in the provinces bearable, it would be if I met Mlle Duplessis there, to what oaths must I bind myself in order to take away this fear that I will leave Paris? I see very well that you do not know how much I love your daughter, since you suppose that I would be able to sadden her by taking her away from a father to whom she is so tenderly dear.

On the impossibility for me to have a house where your daughter, like at your place, could find the softnesses and charms of life. There is something touching about this paternal fear that would have made me reproach myself for my premature research. But did you believe that Mlle Duplessis is less dear to me than to you and that I wanted a happiness that would have cost her the sacrifice of the comforts of life? As for me, the sweetness and pleasures of life would have been to live with her and with you, and these pleasures would have made all the others insipid to me. There are two things here that I cannot believe, first off the fact that this fear so natural to a father that his daughter would be less happy did not alarm you from the first moment you found out about my goal; second off, that your answer here would have been the one I had the pleasure of seeing. If you had thought that Mademoiselle Duplessis' change of lodging would deprive her of the pleasures of life, it would not have been with me that she could find those pleasures. I had not concealed my lack of fortune, nor sought to surprise your avowal by magnifying my hopes, in order to have the satisfaction of showing you that I had brought into this affair all the frankness and delicacy which befits my profession; I almost decried my father's fortune and succeeded so well that you then said to me: ”With the help of your fortune, I could wait until some brilliant affair had rescued me from obscurity.” You said this to me in much stronger terms, for your expressions were that, no longer being forced to run after an écu, I could devote myself without distraction to studies which would later make me known later as a jurisconsult, if the embarrassment of my stammer was an insurmountable obstacle which prevented me from succeeding in my pleading. It is clear that you did not flatter yourself then that I could put together a home for Mlle Duplessis. However, this beloved child was still not less dear to you at the moment and you surely didn’t think that she would lose the comforts of life, but you understood that there was a way to arrange it so that she would not have to make any sacrifice until the time which is not far off, when my condition would bring me 10 to 12 thousand livres. Did Mlle. Duplessis need a house other than yours for a few years? I would even have liked her to continue to live together with you, and for the change in her adress, while at the same time making me the happiest of all men, only to have added to the sweetnesses of life without it costing her any deprivation. Although the dowry I propose to give her is of a certain consistency, you may remember that when you mentioned this section, I kept silent. Surely, to wait until my estate was enough I did not need to find a dowry. At the present moment, I am able to count only on 3 or 4 thousand livres that I would get this year from my work or from my father. But wouldn’t these 4 thousand livres, joined to the 3 or 4 that you would give to mademoiselle your daughter, be enough for a house worthy of her? Of you I wouldn’t ask for anything more. She would have brought a thousand amiable qualities into the household; as for me, I would have put my estate there and I dare say some talents. It would have been a marriage without a dowry like that of the laborers, but those of that time are well worth those of ours. I never made mine a business, the only dowry I would have asked for was that one loves me, not as much as I do (in return), that is impossible, but I am sure that mademoiselle your daughter would have been touched to see me solely occupied with the care of paying her the debt of happiness that I would have contracted.

You urged me to overcome my affection. If it were only an affection, it could be overcome, but the wound is deeper. Remember, monsieur, in what dejection I appeared before you, my state had become so violent that whatever you might have said to me, it was impossible for my pain to wring my heart more on leaving your house compared to what fear had caused it upon entering. That is why, even though it cost me, I begged you to tear off the blindfold and uproot my hope. But how much you have decreased it instead. I only asked for a distant hope and you gave me a near hope. Fortune, you told me, would not determine your choice and you did not make happiness consist of fortune. I exercised an honorable profession that it was not even necessary to fulfill with a certain brilliance in order to appear to you worthy of belonging to you; it was enough for you that your daughter was loved tenderly and constantly and that second to her your son-in-law loved only work. Who would have believed in my place that this son-in-law was really me. You did more: you invited me to spend holidays and Sundays at your countryhouse and you allowed me, you even warned me to let my father know about this interview. At this moment my father has probably written to you and part of my joy was to think about he who does not care about the dowry (that of my mother, who is still whole despite our misfortunes because it has always been sacred in his eyes, was more important) but who loves me with tenderness and is no doubt delighted that I have finally obtained this demoiselle Duplessis of whom I have been speaking to him incessantly for five years and whom he wanted me to show him when he spent a few days in Paris two years ago. In my letter from March 22, it was no longer vain conjectures and equivocal walks in the Luxembourg that I entertained, it was speeches that a father of a family had given me, hadn't I had to base myself entirely on his answer?

It would be deceiving my honesty to make any promises to me at this time, considering the young age of your daughter. If you only wish to postpone the term of my happiness, I have already waited five years, and I can still wait another two and even more, but since I above all make happiness consist in this thought that we love each other for life, I only beg you to tell me if after two years and when my heart has perhaps been consumed by these attachments, I will not have to renounce the sweet habit of loving her. My age was no more advanced four days ago when you gave me such imminent hopes. Also this reason that you bring is not the real one and you yourself do not disguise it from me. An even more essential point to observe to you, is that it for me would be putting up a barrier against the parties which within two years could present themselves and to make you give yourself up to opportunities which fulfill your views. Besides, did I ask for Mlle Duplessis right away? I only asked if one day, when my position would be fully complete, I could receive her hand. As for what concerns me in this article, what occasion, what views can you tell me about? What purpose can I have but to be happy, and I can only be so, monsieur, with you. Where can I find another family that I love so much? I have gone too far with mademoiselle Duplessis to ever retrace my steps, and if you come to take away from me the hope that you have made me conceive, you will have unwittingly caused the misfortune of my life. I come to the great reason, that it would be to put up a barrier against the parties which could present themselves within two years. If, when you did me the honor of granting me an interview, you had said that to me, everything would have been very clear and I would have had nothing to respond to. But, since then, you declared to me that fortune would not decide your choice for mademoiselle your daughter, and that you would seek for her only a husband who would love her with tenderness; so you mean that in two years from now there may come people who like her better than me. If so, let it be. All of them will undoubtedly love her positively, but to love her more desperately than me will be difficult. And I will always have been five years ahead.

You told me enough that you had not changed your mind in regards to me, and that, if I succeeded in destroying the motives that you were good enough to explain to me in detail, you would return to your first feelings. It seems to me that I have replied in a satisfactory manner to the objections of M. Duplessis; I therefore conjure you to come back to your first favorable dispositions and return for me the heart of a father. I would very much like you and Madame Duplessis to grant me an interview. I would remove all of your doubts, and I would come down to details that cannot enter into a letter: do not push me away from your bosom but allow me to give you both names to which my heart would refuse if I had to give them to others. It is with these feelings that I have the honor to be, monsieur, your very humble and very obedient servant. Desmoulins Lawyer in parliament. Letter from Camille to Lucile’s father, March 1787

Madame, It is now that I have lost all hope: but what do I risk by writing to you so that a reply from you yourself will completely disperse it. I returned to Paris a bit less discouraged than I had left it, because the prize of the case that I had won last year, the many bags of lawsuits that I brought back, the ostensible proofs of public confidence, and even more the union of his province to which my father had been named all with one voice, and which gave him the greatest credit, had raised my hopes. I got tasked, among other things, with the biggest criminal affair that there was in the Parliament of Paris at the moment. All of this having either reestablished the inequality of my fortune or compensated for it by public consideration, I had fallen back on my dreams of happiness. But the carriage that you took has destroyed all of my illusions. I sense that the daughter can’t walk on foot when her mother rides in a carriage. My present fortune lines up with the advantages that Mr. Duplessis had told me he would give to mademoiselle, but the luxury of a carriage is beyond my strength. Judge if the noise of this carriage pleases me, when it warns me that you are driving your daughter into the world where she is going to find so many admirers. Thus will all my dreams vanish. Do I dare, however, Madame, to remind you of what you told me, that you would put no ambition in the choice of son-in-law, and that my profession seemed to you quite honest and quite noble. This is what inspired me with some confidence. Must you today take away from me a hope so dear to the attachment that I have nurtured for so many years to come out of my heart with hope! But this is impossible. After you made me the honour of telling me your views on the position you intended for Mademoiselle Duplessis, I admit that I flattered myself that all that I lacked was her consent, that she would be touched by a pursuit so constant and filled with so much trouble, and that I’d obtain some payback from her compassion, if I could not expect it from another feeling. How many times I have consoled myself over my sorrows with the thought that there is no affection more tender and lasting than the one born from compassion. If there is something humiliating for self-esteem in owing one's happiness only to this feeling, I was on the other sure of soon inspiring true tenderness in Mademoiselle your daughter by my feelings, and of ennobling myself in her eyes by the dignity of my whole life. I beg you, Madame, do not read this letter to your husband, with whom I would still pass for a madman, it is to you that I am writing it, to you who never send back my letters and whom I I have never left, without leaving your presence, if not full of contentment, at least full of patience. Shall I not have the pleasure of conversing with you at least sometimes? I apologize if I have made this letter too long, but tired of other people's affairs, it is natural that I should fall back on my own, which I have managed so badly, and in these first moments of me leaving my family, I have difficulty accustoming myself to solitude, which the multiplicity of my affairs and my lack of knowledge make a necessity for me. I found verses printed and maimed in provincial notices which I had addressed to you; I take the liberty of sending them to you and of renewing my homage to you. Will you do nothing for your poet? I have the honour to be, with the deepest respect, Madame, Your very humble and very obedient servant, Desmoulins Camille to Lucile’s mother, December 5 1787

Madame, I am sending you the consultation of M. Fournel regarding the case of the priest of Bourg, for which I have just completed the supporting memorandum. Some considerations are delaying its publication until Easter. The judges of Laon, who were afraid of it, have just written to the attorney general and the first president of the court, to try to obtain the removal of what concerns them from my memorandum. I cannot take enough precautions to avoid compromising myself and risking the loss of my position, which has become very precious to me since the speech you were kind enough to give me in Luxembourg. Once you have read my memorandum, and compared it with the feeble consultation of Me Fournel who nevertheless enjoys such a great reputation, I dare to imagine, Madame, that you will forgive me for having also hoped for some consideration; and that you will forgive me for having nourished another much more cherished hope, remembering that M. Duplessis, a year before yesterday, did not even demand that I should become a famous lawyer in order to obtain Mademoiselle Duplessis. Now this hope is weakening every day, I see that everyone has the same eyes for your daughter as I do, it seems to that in every moment someone comes to ask for her hand. I am waiting for my justificatory memorandum which will finally fix my fate and make access to you either open or closed forever. The encouragement that has sustained me most in this work to which I have sacrificed all my business has been the hope of presenting it to you. Is it possible, Madame, that when the image of happiness that I find with you detaches me from all other societies and makes them bland and unbearable, you never tire of pushing me away from yours, which would take the place of the whole universe? I have the honour to be, with the deepest respect, Madame, Your very humble and very obedient servant, Desmoulins Camille to Lucile’s mother, March 4 1788

Madame, What harm have I then done to you for you to treat me so harshly? And how could a letter that I wrote only with the purpose of persuading you offend you and draw such a bitter response from me? I don't want it to be your fault if I conceived a mad passion, but don't we owe anything to those who are made to suffer even without our fault? Couldn’t you have made me understand in a less mortifying way that there was madness in my pursuit, that the disproportion of fortune (something which I wasn’t aware of until yesterday) was an insurmountable obstacle? You seemed unhappy with me, and I couldn’t be unhappy with you. On the contrary, I would have thanked you for the care you took in preventing a disastrous passion, I would have thought myself treated well. Because you know better than anyone that it takes very little to make me believe it. Sometimes you have really put my self-esteem to severe trials! One does not die of spite, if so I would have already have died a thousand times. But all it would take is a glance, half a smile, to bring me back. Even today, at this moment, all my self-love is incurable! I am trying to reconcile the harshness of what you have just written to me, with the very different speech that you gave me, and I am trying to interpret it favorably. It seems to me that the remedy you employ is either too violent or too little. It's up to you to make yourself lovable anywhere other than at my place. Is it just a defence? Or is it not also a permission? Forbidden to make myself friendly in your eyes at your place, permission to make myself friendly, if possible, in the Luxembourg. This is what it means to be a lawyer. We pick at everything, and instead of a woman of wit explaining her thoughts in two words, we always write, which eads me to believe that your answer does not entail a banishment for life, that was what you had the pleasure of repeating for me in the Luxembourg, not at the moment, and besides, it's still a letter that I received from you, which is something. You see Madame that I am laughing and crying at the same time. Thank you, one more word from you. Or, treat me so harshly that you force me to hate you and even your demoiselles; or, if your feelings have not changed since the conversation I had the honor of obtaining from you in the Luxembourg, refuse me permission to come to your house now, so as to give me the hope of one day obtaining it. I have the honour to be, with the deepest respect, Madame, Your very humble and very obedient servant, Desmoulins Camille to Lucile’s mother, March 16 1788

[…] Oh, I would like to see Melkam! How curious I would be to hear him speak, how he would teach me things! Always the same thought comes to besiege me, it’s a very singular thing… Tell me, are you thinking about me or are you forgetting me? Ever since… every day I don’t miss it… is carved into it… I’ll never call it anything else. It is to him that I have consecrated it, he will take my place. […] Lucile in her diary, July 21 1788

I always continued to chase the same hare, the mother lured me into the house, the father promised me his daughter, gave me his word of honour; the girl made me think she wanted me; a few days later came a terrible storm which threw me far from the door, farther than ever. […] I could not imagine that by courting the girl I had pleased the mother, and that she wanted to take a chance on me; I could not trust the rascal of a servant who went home to me to invite me to take lodgings in the apartment next to theirs, who said that the girl was flirtatious, that it was was the mother who liked me, that I would succeed. Today the scales have fallen from my eyes; but then I thought they wanted to test me, a new promise to give her to me, a new rupture. Camille in a letter to his college comrade Pierre Jean André Grasset, October 27 1788, cited in Camille et Lucile Desmoulins: un rêve de république (2018).

One day, MC was thinking about his portrait; he says to Maman: ”I would like to have a great reputation, do you know why? It's not for the glory, but to be free to do what I want. Then I wouldn't look ridiculous." "It's true, Maman told him, because one passes a lot of faults onto a great man." Lucile in her diary, 1789

Madame, If you knew what a trap was set for me, you would have had compassion for me. I see well that I am no luckier when it comes to friendships than I am when it comes to love. It is not so that I for a moment have given credence to the slander. It is thus, I said to myself, that I was slandered to Madame Duplessis, it is due to these artifices that I was barred from entering their house... However, I was only asked to suspend my judgment, I was to have some clarification this morning for which I would be grateful. I went to look for it and saw only a gross conspiracy against my happiness. I don't know who to trust in the world anymore. Madame, you have sometimes shown interest in me, have pity on my situation; I no longer dare to come to your house, three times I have been refused entry, but deign to give me a moment's interview to unravel this riddle for you, and don't think that I could ever believe that Mademoiselle Lucile and M. Duplessis deceived me so cruelly. Virtue and sensibility have a physiognomy that art does not counterfeit. I distrust all men now, but something tells me that my trust would not be betrayed if I place it in you without reserve. I have the honour to be, with the deepest respect, Madame, Your very humble and very obedient servant, Desmoulins PS — last Tuesday, you sent me back full of joy. I wrote my issue in 12 hours, but the pains are in proportion to the pleasures, and you have given me so much grief for eight days that I have not been able to write a single line; it is you who would have given me genius if you had wanted to. This issue, which belonged to you, since it was thanks to you I had it written in such a short time, you were cruel enough to send it back to me without wanting to read it. Madame, I’m writing this letter for you alone, if it is imprudent, don’t show it to anyone else, I beg you. Camille to Lucile’s mother, April 14 1790.

Madame, I have the honour of letting you know MM. De Mirabeau and Emmery are coming over next Sunday in the afternoon to see the obelisk at Bourg-la-Reine. I had not dreamed of Madame Duplessis coming to Paris today and I had sent away the wigmaker of whom I have no use when you’re at Bourg-la-Reine, which makes me dry with impatience at this moment when I wait for him in order to go and place myself at your feet and recommend myself to your all-powerful intercession. I have to honour to be, with all the feelings that you inspire in me, Madame, Your very humble and very obedient servant Camille Desmoulins. Camille to Lucile’s mother, April 28 1790.

Madame, Here is the letter from Mirabeau that I found at my house, as I expected. He came over with it himself according to the doorman, and you will recognize his handwriting. Did you notice how Mademoiselle Lucile sent me away cruelly yesterday? But one must always admire her more and more and she must be allowed to have a little pride. I really hope that now at least, I have no more new talents to discover in her, if she has any that I still don't know about, please hide them from me. I kiss your hands; as for Mademoiselle Lucile, there is no way to kiss hers even with gloves on. Regardless, Madame, you are so much loved. What hurt you yesterday has hurt your celestial Lucile so much that if you wanted to take my interests to heart, I would hope for everything. Forget what she forbade you. As for me, I see well that I would never touch her, even if I addressed such beautiful prayers to her as the one she made to God. Camille to Annette Duplessis, May 10 1790.

It is now, O Lucile, that I truly find myself to be pitied. Up until now I had blamed fortune, and it could come, I had blamed your parents and they could, when they saw me have a status and a reputation, stop distancing me from you. But now that I am allowed to see you, the hope of being happy has vanished forever. I see too clearly, O Lucile, that your heart cannot approach mine. Your face, as if of its own accord, continually turns away from me. In vain my pain, a constancy of 7 years and my tears are before your eyes. I am not lovable enough, I do not want so many charms and qualities. The sadness that I feel near you at not being able to please, combined with my usual melancholy, makes my company tiring for you. All the conversations I hear seem so cold, so indifferent to me that I cannot take any part in them. In spite of the boredom of my company, touched perhaps by my tender attachment, you make an effort on yourself, and instead of retiring to your books, and to this work that you love so much, you prolong for me the pleasure of enjoying your sight, I thank you for that, beautiful Lucile, I thank you for this kindness. But this pleasure of seeing you is cruelly poisoned by this thought that I will never succeed in pleasing you. I see too well that my presence is for you, oh beautiful Lucile, neither that of a lover, nor that of a husband, nor even that of a friend. No matter how much I question your heart with my gaze, it does not respond. Your eyes never turn towards your unfortunate lover. After 7 years of such tender love, I find the opportunity to present my hand to you for a moment, and you have the harshness to refuse me, to tell me that I will never obtain this hand so ardently desired. Rather than offering me a seat in your carriage, today you would rather have seen me die of fatigue following you. It’s done, I no longer hope to find the way to your heart, no, this charming Lucile will never love me, she will never be my Lucile. How little do they know you, those who congratulate you and who envy you. O unfortunate Desmoulins. If you had placed your happiness in riches, in dignities, in glory and you had been unable to achieve it, only you and your madness would have to be blamed for your ills. But to have placed it in the possession of Lucile's heart, when her mother responded to me from this heart 5 years ago, when she had emboldened me to ask her daughter in marriage, when her father had approved of me, when he had deceived me so cruelly about his daughter's emerging inclination, when they closed my heart to all affection, to all other happiness, after 7 years of constancy, to see that one displeases, that one shall never obtain this promised happiness, this happiness placed in nature. This is what tears me apart, but I would rather be unhappy alone than try to get you through importunity, extract half-consent and make you unhappy with me. I want to get used to the thought that she will never be mine, that she will never put her hand in mine, that I will not rest on Lucile's breast, that I will not press her against my heart. Retire into solitude, O unhappy Camille, go and cry for the rest of your life, forget if possible about her singing, and her loud piano, and her graces, and her wit and her beauty, and her walks and her window, and her writings, and so many qualities of which you were no less sure for having only guessed at them. Camille in an undated letter to Lucile from 1790, cited on page 55-56 of Journal 1788-1793: Lucile Desmoulins ; texte établi et présenté par Philippe Lejeune (1995)

You told me, O Lucile, that I would waste my time loving you. Well! I resign myself to my misfortune, I renounce the hope of possessing you. My tears flow abundantly. But you won't stop me from loving you. May others have the pleasure of seeing you, of hearing you. Those people were loved… from heaven. As for me, I must not be in its anger. O Gods! Loving a Demoiselle with… Camille in an undated letter to Lucile most likely from 1790, cited on page 57 of Journal 1788-1793: Lucile Desmoulins ; texte établi et présenté par Philippe Lejeune (1995)

O you who are at the bottom of my heart, you who I dare not to love, or rather who I dare not say that I love, dear C…, you believe me to be insensitive!… Ah cruel!… Do you judge me according to your heart, and could this heart attach itself to an insensitive being? Well yes, I prefer to suffer, I prefer that you forget me... O God, judge of my courage... Which one of us has the most to suffer? I dare not admit it to myself, what I feel for you! I only occupy myself with disguising it... You suffer, you say... Ah, I suffer more! Your image is constantly present in my thoughts, it never leaves me... I look for your faults, I find them, these faults, and love them... Tell me why then all these fights... Why would I have to make it a mystery even to my mother? I would like her to know it, to guess it, but I would not like to tell her... O sublime thought! To think, yes, it is a blessing from heaven... C, I tremble to form only the first letter of your name... If someone were to find what I write! If you would find it yourself... Love... Ah, C... shall I be your wife? Will we be united one day? Alas, perhaps as I form these wishes, you forget me... Oh, pain! You, forgetting me... at this cruel thought my tears wet my paper, my eyes are troubled, I barely make out what I'm writing... That a tender soul has to suffer... Yes, don't know that I love you , go, flee, C, go seek happiness near another… I will live far from you, I will learn one day that a link… Ah, would this link make you happy? Should you be so far from me?… I will have no reproach to make of you… it is I who am cruel towards me… You are going to make me cherish solitude even more… Your name that I have carved into the corner of a tree, your name that only I can see... I call it the tree of mystery... Alas, very often I hold it in my arms, and when the wind shakes it, it seems to me that it’s you who breathe... It's in my garden that I write, sitting on the ground at the foot of my lawn, leaning my elbow, leaning my body, I'm alone... Drops of water fall, a ray of sunshine pierces the foliage… Maman went to Paris, maybe you're with her. But is it really true that you love me? You love me... you love Lucile... well if you love me, run away from me! I am a monster…I have everything xxxx… I can no longer think, I am annihilated……… I fall into daydreams in spite of myself… Oh, what is the human heart? What then am I? Me... you... and everyone... Why do I exist? These clouds that pass over my head, who makes them pass? C, why this stubbornness to hide the fact that I love you? Will you come back again... will I be able to run away from you wishing to be near you?... Will I still see you looking for my thought in my eyes, sometimes thinking I guess it, alarming you with a word that you have misinterpreted, will I still hear you complaining to Maman about my indifference? What will be the end of all this? What will become of both of us? Alas, maybe separated forever, we will mourn our fate in silence… We will remind each other, and we will say “It is together that we should be happy”. Time will pass like this, death will overtake us, we die……..and in this cruel moment that we… This thought tears me apart! Oh, come, come and put a veil on the future! Lucile in her diary, July 16 1790

Today, December 11, I finally see myself at the fulfillment of my wishes. Happiness for me has been a long time coming, but finally it has arrived, and I am as happy as one can be on this earth. This charming Lucile, whom I have talked to you so much about, whom I have loved for the past eight years, at last her parents give her to me and she does not refuse me. Her mother just came to tell me the news, crying of joy. The inegality of fortune, M. Duplessis having 20 000 francs a year, had up until now held back my happiness. The father was dazzled by the offers made to him. He dismissed a suitor who came with 100 000 francs. Lucile, who had already refused 25 000 francs a year, had no trouble giving him her permission. You are going to know her by this single trait. When her mother told me a moment ago, she brought me to her room; I threw myself before Lucile’s knees; surprised at hearing her laugh I open my eyes, hers were in no better state than mine, she was all in tears, she was even crying profusely and yet she was still laughing. I have never seen such a delightful spectacle, and I would not have imagined that nature and sensibility could unite these two contrasts to such an extent. Her father told me that he no longer opposed us marrying because he wanted to give me the 100 000 francs that he promised his daughter beforehand, and that I could go with him to the notary whenever I wanted. I responded: You are a capitalist, you have moved cash around your entire life, I won’t interfere in the contract and that much money is going to embarrass me. You love your daughter too much for me to stipulate her. You’re asking nothing of me, so make the contract however you want it. He also gave me half of his silverware, which amounts to 10 000 francs. Please, don’t make too much noise about this. Let us be modest in prosperity. Send me your consent and that of my mother post by post; be diligent in Laon for dispensations and let there be only one publication of banns in Guise as in Paris. We can get married in eight days. My dear Lucile longs as much as I do that we may no longer be separated. Do not arouse the hatred of our envious people with this news, and like me, keep your joy within your heart, or at most pour it out in the bosom of my dear mother, my brothers and sisters. I am now in a position to come to your aid, and that is a great part of my joy: my mistress, my wife, your daughter and her entire family embrace you. Camille to his father, December 11 1790

#camille desmoulins #lucile desmoulins #desmoulins #frev #long post #i don’t think the term ”made for each other” can ever be applied to another couple after this #biggest drama queens… i mean patriots and lovestruck fools EVER #also what did lucile tell her mother that camille told her to just forget 😐😐#annette duplessis

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tiredandoptimistic · 3 months ago

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TSC Fandom Survey Results

The time has finally come for me to share my data! For those unaware, I've spent the past week running a survey in which people ranked TSC books, characters, and ships. In the end, 50 people filled out my survey, which is way more than I expected! About 23% of the people who looked at the survey filled it out, and everyone who started finished it.

First off I'll post the simple rankings from each category, and below the cut I'll show the more complex results with explanations for why people voted the way they did.

Best series: 1. The Infernal Devices 2. The Mortal Instruments 3. The Dark Artifices 4. The Last Hours 5. The Eldest Curses 6. The Wicked Powers 7. The Secret Treasons

Best main girl: 1. Tessa Gray 2. Clary Fairchild 3. Emma Carstairs 4. Cordelia Carstairs 5. Dru Blackthorn

Best main couple: 1. Will/Tessa/Jem 2. Will/Tessa 3. Clary/Jace 4. Jem/Tessa 5. Julian/Emma 6. James/Cordelia 7. Dru/Ash

Best side couple: 1. Magnus/Alec 2. Simon/Isabelle 3. Thomas/Alastair 4. Kit/Ty 5. Kieran/Mark/Cristina 6. Charlotte/Henry 7. Sophie/Gideon 8. Gabriel/Cecily 9. Helen/Aline 10. Grace/Christopher 11. Gwyn/Diana 12. Lucie/Jesse 13. Ari/Anna

Best side character: 1. Raphael Santiago 2. Lily Chen 3. Maia Roberts 4. Ragnor Fell 5. George Lovelace 6. Catarina Loss 7. Livvy Blackthorn 8. Jessamine Lovelace 9. Luke Graymark 10. Jocelyn Fairchild 11. Maryse Lightwood 12. Eugenia Lightwood 13. Jordan Kyle 14. Robert Lightwood 15. Jaime Rosales 16. Michael Wayland 17. Amatis Graymark 18. Camille Belcourt 19. Nate Gray 20. Charles Fairchild

Best younger sibling/child: 1. Max Lightwood-Bane 2. Rafael Lightwood-Bane 3. Mina Carstairs 4. Max Lightwood 5. Tavvy Blackthorn 6. Alex Lightwood 7. Zachary Carstairs

Best villain: 1. Sebastian Morgenstern 2. Valentine Morgenstern 3. Annabel Blackthorn 4. Malcolm Fade 5. Axel Mortmain 6. Asmodeus 7. Shinyun Jung 8. Benedict Lightwood 9. Tatiana Blackthorn 10. Belial

Best side book: 1. Tales From the Shadowhunter Academy 2. Ghosts of the Shadow Market 3. The Bane Chronicles 4. Secrets of Blackthorn Hall 5. An Illustrated History of Notable Shadowhunters and Denizens of Downworld 6. The Shadowhunter's Codex 7. Better in Black 8. A Sea Change

Huzzah! Putting this all together has been so much fun for me, and I want to quickly thank everybody who participated! I also want to remind everyone that this was just for fun, and no reason to get mad at anybody. We're obviously never gonna agree on everything, we just need to respect each other's opinions.

If you want to know the nitty gritty of how every character was ranked, how the different series measured up against each other across categories, and why people like or dislike various books and characters, then keep reading below the cut! I made a spreadsheet, please come gaze upon my beautiful spreadsheet.

Here we go, time for the real shit!

Be warned, you will probably read mean things about characters you love and nice things about characters you hate. Angry rants about how you can't believe anyone would think that way belong in DMs to your friends, not the notes of my post. I do welcome discussion, just nothing that's targeted at other people. Also, I will be doing my best to explain people's opinions, that doesn't mean that I agree with them. I'm just trying to document. If I'm sharing my genuine personal opinion on anything, I'll make that clear.

You'll be seeing screenshots from my big spreadsheet throughout this thing. Here's your key: Columns represent characters/ships/series, rows represent a ranking. Each cell shows how many people assigned that rank to that character (for example, the intersection of 3 and Sizzy will be the number of people who voted Sizzy as their second favorite side ship). At the bottom there will be the average rank this character received, which was calculated by the program I used for the survey. I have all the columns color coordinated by which series each character/ship belongs to, and each column will have one box outlined which shows the rank that character received most often (as in, the intersection of Sizzy and 3 is outlined because Sizzy got more #3 votes than #1 #2 #4 or #5). Some columns have multiple boxes outlined, in the case of ties.

Make sense?

Alright, let's go!

First off, it's everyone's favorite series. As you can see, TID was significantly ahead of all the others. TMI and TDA were neck and neck, frequently switching back and forth for that #2 spot. TLH was a bit lower than the other three, and TEC, TWP, and TST all ranked dramatically lower.

To explain why they liked TID, people talked about finding the series nostalgic, enjoying how the characters are woven into the plot, the historical setting, and how it expands the worldbuilding of TSC while still working as a contained story. People also mentioned enjoying specific characters like Will, Jessamine, and Gabriel. By far the most common comment though was just that people love Herongraystairs. The only negative comments came from people who said that they didn't find the concept interesting, and were disappointed by the lack of their favorite modern characters.

Talking about TMI, the most common positive comments were that the series was fun, nostalgic, and had the best cast of characters (specifically Alec, Magnus, and Simon). People also enjoy the modern setting, the interpersonal relationships (especially Malec), and how the world is seen to develop from where it was in the historical era. TMI has the fewest haters, but some people said that they just didn't find it as captivating as later series, or that they were put off by the incest plotline. I also received the criticism that the characters are annoying, and that the story could have been compressed into fewer books.

For TDA, a lot of people mentioned finding the characters relatable, enjoying the plot, and liking the Blackthorn family dynamic. The characters and ships who got specific shout-outs were Blackstairs, Kierarktina, and Mark. People also like the modern setting, found it to be emotional, and think that it effectively juggles a large cast of characters. Plus, people appreciate getting autistic representation from Ty. It has a solid number of detractors too, who say that they don't like Blackstairs (especially Julian), Thule, the Cohort, or the focus on Faerie politics. They also say that it has too many plotlines, takes itself too seriously, and that the last book (Queen of Air and Darkness) made them drop the series.

While TLH was ranked last of the main series, I'd like to point out that it has the same number of #1 votes as TDA, signaling that it has a similar number of intense fans. The difference really comes in with the lack of #2 or #3 votes, showing that people don't tend to be casual fans of the series. By far the most popular thing brought up by TLH enjoyers is the characters, and how they build an interconnected web with lots of fun dynamics (including developed family dynamics). People also like the number of queer and POC characters, the cozy vibe, the historical setting, the drama, and the ships (especially Herondaisy). The most common critiques all come back to the plot; that the main story is weak or even incoherent, and the series is stretched too thin across a number of side plots. People also dislike the lack of communication, and think that the characters don't feel like friends. Another complaint is that the world doesn't feel like a natural extension of TID, especially because the characters are so invested in mundane social structures like balls and reputations.

TEC is our first truly controversial series, and the main divide seems to be between people who think it's unnecessary fan service, and fans who feel serviced. The reasons I was given to like the series are the additional page time for Malec and the TMI gang, and that it fleshed out the TMI timeline. On the negative side, people say that it feels like a cash grab and that LBOTW didn't live up to the expectations set by RSOM. Overall though, the biggest reason that people ranked it so low was just that they hadn't read it.

Here's where we get into the series that were doomed to fail in the rankings because none of us have even read them. While TWP has a solid number of prospective fans ranking it in their top three, most people left it at the bottom because it hasn't come out yet. The people who expect to enjoy the series are the ones who enjoyed Dru, Kit, and Ty in TDA, and the ones who expect to dislike it are the ones who didn't enjoy those three in TDA.

So, TST was probably not fair to include in this list because I got a solid number of respondents who hadn't even heard of it, but I'm convinced that if it were ever to come out it would be in my top two series overall, and I want to see what the people think. While it didn't get anybody voting it #1 based on potential like TWP did, there were still some people saying that they would be excited to read it because of Waywood, the Luke/Jocelyn/Valentine drama, and the morally gray characters. On the other hand, there's the people who just don't care about the Circle and don't want to read about them.

For main girls, Tessa, Clary, and Emma were all pretty close in the average rankings. Cordelia and Dru fell a bit behind, but also had their share of committed fans.

When talking about Tessa, people brought up her intelligence, maturity, and their nostalgia for her character. They also like that she's a book lover, has cool powers, isn't annoying, starts out messy before maturing, and is strong-willed. By far though, the most common comment was that they found her relatable. The downside to this relatability is that her detractors say she feels like an obvious reader insert, and is overshadowed by more interesting characters like Will, Jem, and Jessamine.

Clary had the most positive comments, and people love that she's funny, creative, blunt, fearless, iconic, and handles all the bullshit the world throws at her. (My personal favorite comment was the person who called her "my beautiful unhinged princess"). More than anything though, people love Clary for her development. She starts out as a relatable 15-year-old, but over the course of six TMI books and all her later appearances, she grows into a hero. She's also of course incredibly nostalgic, since most TSC fans were introduced to the world by either her or Tessa. On the downside, people say that she works better as a side character than a protagonist, and that she's overshadowed by the rest of TMI. They also think that she made bad choices throughout the series, and find her annoying.

What people love about Emma is that she's strong, funny, complex, badass, and a bit of an asshole. They like that she's allowed to have an attitude and still be treated as a cool and compelling woman by the narrative and the other characters. Plus, she comes across as having a clear voice that makes her feel like somebody they could be friends with in real life. Most of the people with specific complaints about her either didn't like TDA overall, or thought she was treated as an extension of Julian who never fulfilled her individual potential. Some people also found her badass bad bitch persona to be more exhausting than endearing.

Cordelia is probably the most controversial character in this category, with long lists of both positive and negative traits given by the fandom. On the bright side, she's fierce, badass, kind, and relatable. People also like to see a woman of color thriving in 1903 London, and how she embodies the concept of a warrior. Looking to the negative, people largely just don't find her particularly engaging. They say that she's inconsistant, flat, and had no development after Chain of Gold. They also complained about her making bad decisions and having a weak relationship with Lucie.

Everybody had the least to say about Dru, and most people said that they ranked her last just because they don't know enough about her to like her more than the established characters. What her fans do enjoy is that she's relatable, blunt, sassy, and a fat goth girl who's giving 2015 tumblr emo. The only real complaint people had was that they found her annoying in TDA, but everyone who left comments like that also acknowledged that she was 13 in TDA and will probably be more engaging once TWP gives her time in the spotlight.

Moving into the main couples, TID continues to sweep as Herongraystairs takes the top spot (and came incredibly close to taking the entirety of the top three). After that, the couples are spaced out pretty equally and follow the same pattern established by the previous two categories.

Now, Herongraystairs received arguably the most bonkers majority in this entire survey. Nearly half of respondents ranked it as their #1, and only a couple outliers put it in their bottom three. What everybody loves about this ship is the angst, how willing they were to sacrifice for each other, the raw emotions, how perfectly the three balance each other, and the ideas about fate. They also like how all three of them are compelling characters on their own, have unique relationships in pairs (Wessa, Jessa, Heronstairs), and work even better as a complete unit. Will and Jem already loved each other, but they could only fully develop once they had Tessa; creating this tragic yet beautiful cloud of possibility. People also like the polyamorous aspect, and wish that they were a canon three way relationship. More than anything else though, what was commented again and again was simply "they loved each other so much." What else can you say? Well, I can say why a couple of people dislike the ship. The only reasons I was given was that the person didn't like TID overall, and that they prefer Jem and Will with a purely platonic parabatai bond.

Moving on to Wessa, people like their banter, the crazy build up to their relationship, and how they bonded over books. They also love how gutwrenching the relationship is, especially once you get to the epilogue of Clockwork Princess. The only complaint anybody had was that they aren't Herongraystairs, and the relationship is incomplete without Jem.

People of course love Clace for the nostalgia factor and how it's the relationship that introduced them to TSC, but most importantly people like how the two of them are just so horribly down bad for each other. They're cute, fun, and have good chemistry; forming the heart of the TMI gang and of the Shadowhunters world. What people don't like is that they're basic, getting overshadowed by other couples in their own series. The upside is that they get better in their appearances that came after TMI. There are of course also the people who don't like the incest plotline and felt uncomfortable reading about that era of their relationship.

Jessa was solidly in third for most of this survey, but Clace pulled ahead of them in the last day. Though they came in behind the other TID ships, they're still beloved by the fandom. People like their dynamic and enjoy Jem as a character. The downside is that the ship makes them sad because of the tragedy of their situation, doesn't include Will, and gets overused in the modern series.

As for Blackstairs, people see their relationship as beautiful, a good example of friends to lovers/forbidden romance, and worked in well with the plot of TDA. People also like the soulmate aspect. Their haters sure had a lot to say to counterbalance that though, and complained about how the relationship is melodramatic, overly intense, toxic, and codependant. I also got a few respondants who said that they just dislike Emma and Julian as individuals, and that Julian's behavior towards Emma is alarming.

Herondaisy is continuing TLH's grand tradition of coming in near the end while still maintaining a dedicated team of fans. The good stuff is how much James loved Cordelia, and that he spent so long unable to say anything, but once he was free from the Gracelet he never let her forget his devotion. Their love was powerful enough to break a hellish enchantment, but still felt like a friendship built on a shared interests like books and stories. The most common complaint about this relationship was miscommunication, dislike of James or Cordelia as characters, and not understanding why the two like each other (other than mutual attraction). There's also people who just don't like TLH and generally aren't invested in their story. The other main complaint was that the James/Grace and Cordelia/Matthew subplots felt unnecessary and overly drawn out (which of course connects back to the miscommunication issue).

Morgenthorn suffers from the same issue as the other TWP representatives, and largely got low marks because their books aren't out yet. Some people think they're shaping up to be iconic though, while others still aren't sold on the premise.

The side ships are where things start to really heat up. Based on their average rank, the pairs form a couple distinct tiers. First, is Malec, Sizzy, Thomastair, and Kitty (the fan favorites), next is Kierarktina, Chenry, Sophideon, and Gabrily making up the middle of the pack, then we have the less popular Haline, Gracetopher, Gwynburn, and Ghostwriter, and in dead last with by far the lowest score there's Arianna. (Sorry to the u-haul lesbians). I think it's quite interesting how most of the ships are clumped together with other ships from the same series.

I'm guessing we all knew that Malec was gonna come in first. People love the nostalgia factor, of course, and they also love how the ship is queer, iconic, and just generally sweet. It's a case of opposites attract where the two of them help each other grow and reach for things they never thought possible. Both Alec and Magnus believed that they'd never be truly loved for who they were, and yet together they were able to create a life and family. Not a single person had a bad thing to say about these two.

Continuing the popularity of the TMI gang, Sizzy came shockingly close to beating Malec for first. They didn't get as many #1 votes as the other top ships, but they were still voted highly by more or less everyone. On the surface this couple is cute and funny, but what people really love is how perfectly they match each other. While they look like opposites at first, they're actually incredibly well-balanced. Everyone expected Isabelle to break Simon's heart, but he's able to stand up to her without being a dick and he sees her for who she really is under all her defensiveness. Plus, they're great individual characters and encourage each other to grow. They only negative comment they got was one person who finds them annoying.

Next up, Thomastair comes in to prove that there are at least some parts of TLH that are pretty universally adored. People like how Thomas saw the good in Alastair from the start, and watching his schoolboy crush develop into a mature romance. They like how Thomas helped Alastair accept love into his life, and Alastair encouraged Thomas to become confident in himself. The two of them were able to create their own world in Paris, which allowed them to escape the roles they felt trapped in. The characters are of course loved as individuals, and people got especially attached to Alastair and think that he deserves good things. People also like their communication skills, in contrast with other TLH couples. The only real complains people had with the ship was that it's connected to a series they dislike overall, and falls into the bully x victim trope.

Kitty is another ship that anybody who spends any length of time in the fandom will not be surprised to see in the top quarter of this list. They're beloved as characters, and even people who dislike TDA say that they were some of the best stuff in it. Fans enjoy how Kit understood Ty from the start and Ty felt truly comfortable with Kit. They also like how Kit can't make amends with Ty but still keeps his secret (shout-out to the person who described them as being in "doomed yaoi purgatory"). People also say that they have great chemistry and a lot of potential. What people dislike is really just that they haven't had time to fully develop, since TWP hasn't actually come out yet.

The next top ship is Kierarktina, which is where we exit the "pure adoration" tier of this list. People like the characters and all their different dynamics, and think that there's a lot of potential for growth with them. They also like the fact that they're a canonically polyamorous ship. The complaints I got were that the relationship feels rushed, and that Cristina seems to fetishize Kieran and Mark's relationship.

Getting into the TID ships all nicely chunked together in the middle of this list, people like Chenry for their arranged marriage setup, where both of them love each other but saw their feelings as unrequited for years. They also like Charlotte and Henry's combined autistic swag. What makes people hesitate is their lack of pagetime.

For Sophideon, people of course love the individual characters, and especially appreciate how Gideon adores everything about Sophie. The only downside is how little of them we get on the page.

Gabrily came in lower than Sophideon but did receive more #1 votes and fewer #13 votes, proving that they have a higher number of committed fans despite being less popular overall. Those fans like how the two of them loved each other for what they were and always had each other's backs. Nobody had any negative comments about them.

Haline is another mid-tier ship that didn't get many comments. What I did hear is that people like how their struggles were worth it because they had each other, and ranked them low because of their lack of page time.

Gracetopher is probably the most controversial ship on this list. If we were just going off of who received the most #1 votes, they would be fifth overall (that order would be Malec, Kitty, Thomastair, Sizzy, Gracetopher). Unfortunately for them though, we are also factoring in all the people who ranked them dead last. As this form received more and more submissions, I watched this couple gradually climb from second-to-last to the dizzying height of fourth-to-last in the overall rankings. First off, what people like is how they truly see each other. Christopher was overlooked by his friends for his intensity and Grace was only ever treated as a weapon and a seductress, but they genuinely respect each other and bond over their shared enthusiasm for science. Looking at the negatives though, most people saw their dynamic as underdeveloped and unnecessary. Lots of people dislike Grace and don't believe that she should have received any redemption, and even people who are sympathetic towards Grace still dislike that Christopher was so quick to forgive her after how she treated one of his best friends. A few people also said that they like Grace and Christopher's dynamic when it's platonic, but ranked it low as a romance. People were also upset by Christopher's death, and feel that it ruins the relationship for them.

For Gwynburn, the only positive comment I got was a couple people saying they're cute, and the only negative one came from somebody who didn't like Diana because they felt she was an irresponsible guardian to the Blackthorn kids. Most people ranked them higher than the other ships at the bottom of this list, but unfortunately they just didn't have enough extremely high votes to pull them ahead.

Ghostwriter didn't get any specific positive propaganda, though some people clearly do enjoy them. Most of the negative sentiments came from people who just found them uninteresting and generally didn't enjoy TLH. They also see the pairing as having wasted potential, and felt frustrated by the lack of consequences for Jesse's resurrection. They saw Lucie as boring and dislike Jesse for his mistreatment of Grace.

Despite being ranked last, Arianna fans still came in to share what they liked about the couple. They enjoy the characters and Anna's butch swag, and some people who don't like them together still enjoy the concept. What people largely dislike about the two is Anna as a character, and how she treated Ari and all the other women she had flings with. While not everyone was ready to give up on them because of Anna's flaws, they were frustrated by how she didn't resolve her issues or try to be better by the end of the trilogy. There were also people who thought that the ship didn't get enough page time, or who didn't connect with Ari as a character. People were also disappointed in how Ari was punished by the narrative and by Anna for not being ready to come out of the closet when she was seventeen and dependent on her bigoted parents.

Oh boy, time to dig into the biggest category (which still feels incredibly cut down, my original list was over 50 characters). Side characters are obviously a point of hot debate, since everybody has their favorite guy who the narrative forgot about. The most popular overall characters were all old favorites introduced in TMI, then there's George, Catarina, Livvy, and Jessamine (who all swapped around a fair bit), before we get into a large chunk of characters who either inspire mixed feelings or get forgotten entirely, and bringing up the rear is two of the most hated characters in TSC.

First up, we have what I think is the biggest sweep of the whole survey; Raphael Santiago. He got about a third of the #1 votes, which isn't quite as dramatic a majority as Herongraystairs in their bracket, but far more impressive when you consider the sheer number of characters competing against Raphael for the top spot in this section. People think he's funny, iconic, and relatable. They love his sarcastic and grumpy sense of humor and his begrudging responsibility for the people around him. They also like his relationship with Magnus, as explored in "Saving Raphael Santiago" in The Bane Chronicles. The most common comment I got though was that people appreciate him being canonically aroace, and they remember him as their first experience seeing an aspec character in media. He received no negative comments (and few people left him out of their top ten).

Our second place goes to Lily, who got points for her iconic sense of humor, haunting backstory, and compelling relationships with both Alec and Raphael. She received no negative comments.

People like Maia but apparently don't have much to say about her. The only comments I got were that she's hot and a bad bitch, plus she overcame her difficult past.

Ragnor is appreciated how grouchy and melodramatic he is, and how he fits into the warlock friend group with Magnus and Catarina. I'd also like to shout-out his friendship with Raphael, since I love seeing them bond over their haterism. He received no negative comments.

George also didn't get many comments, but people grew attached to him very quickly and felt strongly affected by the tragedy of his death in TFSA, except for the person who said he felt like he got killed off for shock value.

People like Catarina's relationships with the other warlocks. I also want to point out her incredible selflessness and how she's even committed to helping people who hate her. She received no negative comments.

Livvy got the second most #1 votes after Raphael, and yet she's only #7 overall (ranked choice voting strikes again), and it looks to me like people either love her or don't care about her. What they love about her is the tragedy of her death and her relatable sense of responsibility towards her siblings, plus the continuation of her story in TWP. The only negative comment I got about her was from someone who didn't feel sad when she died.

Jessamine is seen as a fascinating and tragic character with a lot of potential depth who deserves more love. She got some low marks from her lack of page time though, and from people who found her attitude annoying.

Moving into some TST characters, Luke is noticeably higher than all the rest of his high school/fascist cult buddies. People like him for his dad vibes, and dislike him for his holier than thou attitude towards other members of the Circle. (Shout-out to my IRL friend who called him a DILF this morning).

Jocelyn didn't get many comments, and none that were positive. I'll chip in to say that I like how fierce and strong-willed she was when she decided to betray her abusive husband and raise Clary alone in NYC, and appreciate that she always tried to do what she thought would protect her daughter (even if it often wasn't actually what Clary wanted or needed). The people of the survey think she's a bad person and don't think that Clary should have forgiven her so easily for the way she lied to her. She moved up pretty far in the last day of this survey, but that was mostly due to other characters dropping in the rankings.

Maryse was behind Robert for most of the time this survey was gathering data, but her fans came in at the end to bump up her score. They like her relationships with her children, especially Jace and Alec, and are curious about her life before TMI when she had to deal with a loveless marriage and losing her brother to the mundane world. The only negative comment I received for her was someone who disliked how she treated Jace while he was being unfairly accused of working with Valentine.

While Eugenia is generally liked by TLH fans because she's funny, feisty, badass, and has a compelling relationship with Thomas; she scored fairly low overall because most people don't feel super attached to her due to her lack of page time.

The only positive comment I received about Jordan was that it was funny when he spent time with Jace and Simon. Mostly, people think that he was a toxic boyfriend to Maia and an awful person overall. They especially disliked that he and Maia got back together, even though he'd previously assaulted her after their breakup. Despite that, he's managed to make his way up from the bottom five of this list.

Robert is more controversial than his ex-wife, receiving more negative and more positive votes than her. People like his relationship with Michael as explored in "The Evil We Love," and how his personal issues with queerness bled into his relationship with his son. They enjoy both the angst of his difficult relationship with Alec, and the hopefulness that comes from his ability to grow as a person and try to be better for the sake of his kids. Folks who are less compelled by the angst just flat dislike him for his bad parenting. His ranking dropped dramatically in the last twelve hours, since I guess the people who can't forgive shitty parenting all showed up at the end.

People who like Jaime enjoy his attitude and see him as complex, and all the negative comments were about the age gap between him and Dru.

Michael is a character who seems to suffer from being nobody's favorite. No one had anything negative to say about him, but the only positive comments were in regards to his relationship with Robert, and the highest anybody ranked him was #4.

Amatis is somebody else who I believe suffered from not having any real fans. The only comment I got about her was that they ranked her low because they don't know much about her. The highest anybody ranked her was #6, and only one other character on this list has a highest rank that's lower than that. Nobody got mad at her like they did with Jordan or Jaime or Camille, but no one loves her like they love those three, so she ended up lower than them overall.

Camille got a fair number of high votes from people who enjoy her dramatic diva energy, and a lot of low ones from people who think she's just an awful person.

And here we have the first of the two most hated characters in this list. While he was dead last for almost an entire week, Nate finally managed to claw his way up to 19th place. Nobody had anything nice to say about him, and nobody ranked him higher than #7. I'll say that I find him interesting as an extension of Tessa's character and arc. People didn't have particularly complicated complaints, they just think that he's selfish, mean, awful, a traitor, a liar, an asshole, and completely irredeemable. Oof.

Even though he ended up in last place, Charles is distinct from the rest of the characters ranked this low because he actually does have a handful of fans who put him at #2 or #3. They think that he's an interesting character to study, even if he's an awful person. They also find his relationships with Alastair and Matthew to be compelling (though unhealthy) and relate to his place as an older sibling burdened by high expectations. As for the negatives, there's a whole laundry list. People see him as gross, annoying, selfish, awful, and boring. They hate his predatory relationship with Alastair in-universe, and which he was handled better by the author out of universe. I got one comment that said he felt like he was written by a straight woman, and in general people don't like how his arc was written.

Now that we're through with two of the largest and most controversial categories, let's move onto the one nobody cares about. I will admit that I included the children in this survey purely out of an interest in hearing if anybody had reasoning for preferring one small child over another.

Also, since we have two Max Lightwoods, I differentiated them using their middle inititals; Max M for Max Michael Lightwood-Bane, and Max J for Max Joseph Lightwood.

Okay, so what I have in the positive column for every single kid on this list is more or less just their association with their parents. People like the Lightwood-Bane siblings because they like Malec, they like Mina because of Jessa, Tavvy because of the TDA Blackthorns, Max J because of the TMI Lightwoods, Alex because of Gabrily, and Zachary because of Cordelia and Thomastair. Negative comments were also often linked to parents, like ranking Mina low because they dislike Jessa, or disliking the Lightwood-Banes because their existence feels like fanservice and they don't believe Alec would be a good father at age 20. Rafe did get the positive comment that his story in GotSM made the respondant cry.

Positive comments for Tavvy focused on people feeling like they know him better than other kids on this list, and being excited to see more of him and his relationship with Dru in TWP.

Max J got comments talking about how much more character he has compared to the babies, and how the tragic end to his story strongly affeced people. People got attached to him from his love of manga, and appreciate how he symbolized the innocence that Alec, Isabelle, and Jace needed to fight for.

Alex and Zachary were ranked last by almost everyone, though they all made it clear that they bear no ill will towards these kids. Zachary did get one committed fan who loves the way he brings Alastair's arc to a close, and is excited to see more of him on Thomastair's BiB story. I think it's noteworthy that they have the same number of #1 votes, Zachary got more #2 and #3 votes, and Alex got more #4 and #5 votes; showing that once you discount the people placing them in the bottom two, Zachary is in fact more popular. (I'm assuming that most people who put them in the bottom two don't actually prefer one over the other).

The villain category was particulary interesting to me, because reading everyone's comments made it clear that many of us are working off of different definitions of what makes a good villain. The biggest question was whether a character being sympathetic made people see them as a great villain or a terrible one. The other cool thing about this category is you can see that almost all the villains from the same series stayed next to each other in the ranking.

For as high as Sebastian ranked, he got relatively few comments. What people do like about him is that he was more relatable and redeemable than other villains because of how Valentine raised him, and yet he still went on to do unjustifiable things. They also think he was funny. The main complaint he got from several people was that the demon blood storyline made him a boring and badly constructed villain, since he had no free will in his own evilness. Also, y'know, the incest thing.

Valentine may not be ranked as highly as his son, but he did get far more specific compliments from people. They love to hate how logical, strategic, and pure evil he could be; as well as the way the story built up to him by showing the impact he had on the world. He was a skilled manipulator who convinced people to sacrifice everything in the name of his twisted values, and worked as a chillingly accurate representation of fascism. He also served the greater themes of TMI by allowing the leads to deny the violence and hatred passed down by their parents. Some people also just enjoy the Circle era characters. The only bad thing anyone said about him was that he's generic, one of a million bigoted middle aged white men in fiction.

Annabel and Malcom switched back and forth in the rankings a couple times while data was being gathered, since most people voted for the two of them as a unit. People like how tragic their storyline was, and how they served as foiled to Blackstairs because they too were people who loved each other enough to burn down the world. Ultimately, it was their sympathetic anti-Clave motivation that got most people to love them. The two points people held against them was that they're too sympathetic and thus not really villains, and that Annabel's potential was wasted in Queen of Air and Darkness. The folks who dislike TDA also dislike them on account of their association with the series.

Mortmain is our solidly mid tier villain. People across the board saw him as a simple pure evil force that the heroes had to win against, and the main question was whether people loved him or hated him for that simplicity.

The only reason anybody gave for enjoying Asmodeus was his association with Alec. The few negative comments he got were all about either his lack of page time or how his motivation being centered on his inherent evil made him uninteresting.

Shinyun is a more complicated character, and her reception was complicated as well. People like that she's associated with Alec through TEC, and that she showed how evil she was by rejecting redemption when it was offered to her. There were also some mixed feelings expressed about her place as a cult survivor, since that's a very human trauma that was not given enough dignity by the narrative. Negative opinions all came down to her lack of page time, and people who either never read or actively disliked TEC.

Benedict Lightwood might be the lowest anything from TID scored in this entire survey. People who enjoy him mentioned how he created realistic angst for Gideon and Gabriel, as a manipulative father they needed to learn to rebel against. What people think makes him a bad villain is that he's not a villain at all, just a generic shitty dad. Also, multiple people commented "worm" with no explanation.

Sadly for the villains of TLH, this isn't the way they were supposed to be the worst of the worst. While some people enjoyed Tatiana for her chaos and irredeemability, especially the way she abused her own daughter for years, overall she was seen as a boring letdown who could have been interesting if the narrative didn't treat her as pure evil. Maybe she could have had potential if she was allowed to be the main villain or if the story acknowledged the ways in which she felt abanoned by the Clave, but that's not the story we got.

As for Belial, nobody had anything positive to say about him. They thought that his plan was stupid (especially for a Prince of Hell), and that he was boring, annoying, and just generally underwhelming. He also received the same complaints as Asmodeus about how demons are uniniteresting villains because their only motive is their own inherent evil.

And here was have our final category: the side books! It's no surprise to me that the short story collections came in first, and that the unreleased books don't have a lot of fans yet.

Our most popular pick was Tales From the Shadowhunter Academy, which people love because of how it followed up on TMI storylines while also expanding upon the world. It gave readers a look into characters they enjoy like Alec, Mark, and James, and of course the most popular comment I got was people gushing about getting time with Simon. They love the Sizzy moments too, as well as Simon's friendship with Clary and the rest of the TMI gang. It also got points for George's heartbreaking death, and for how much fun it was to read when it was serialized in 2015. The two stories people mentioned as their favorites were "The Evil We Love" and "Nothing But Shadows," showing how people enjoyed getting to look at points in the TSC timeline that aren't explored by other series. The only negative comment it got was from a person who finds Simon and Isabelle annoying.

Coming in at a close second, Ghosts of the Shadow Market is beloved mainly for its connection to Jem and Jessa. People enjoy that it served a purpose in the overall TSC plot, and showed how love can be born of tragedy. The stories people brought up were "Every Exquisite Thing," "The Land I Lost," and especially "Cast Long Shadows." It received no negative comments.

While The Bane Chronicles was the least favorite of the anthologies, it still clearly won the love of the people. They enjoy it mainly on account of Magnus, especially for his friendship with the other warlocks and his romance with Alec. They like how funny it is, and feel like it has the same charm as the early TMI books. The only negative comment I got about it was that it's boring.

Secrets of Blackthorn Hall got points for the wholesome and iconic vibes, and the interesting format of being published through tumblr. Someone also described it as a home renovation show in a haunted house, and people brought up being glad to see characters like Mark and Mina and ships like Kitty and Blackstairs. Some people just didn't find it interesting though, and others disliked it because it had so much Julian and Blackstairs.

An Illustrated History of Notable Shadowhunters and Denizens of Downworld probably got the fewest comments in this category. The people who love it appreciate the stunning art and interesting details about the characters, and all the low votes came from people who haven't read it.

The Shadowhunter's Codex is the oldest companion book on this list, and clearly didn't hit like the later additions to the canon. The only positive comments I got were from people who enjoyed Simon, Clary, and Jace's comments written into the margins. Generally people just didn't find it interesting, and saw it as a textbook that didn't even provide new information about the the world of Shadowhunters. There were also people who either didn't read it or couldn't finish it.

Better in Black of course hasn't been released, but people are excited to see their favorite couples back in action. In this survey, I got specific comments from people talking about Herondaisy and Thomastair. It still ranked pretty low overall, mainly because none of us have read it yet.

A Sea Change was most people's bottom pick, just because it isn't out yet. (My theory is that it ranked lower than BiB because BiB got everyone hyped through fandom engagement when we all debated which couples would be included, and that BiB appeals to fans of ten different ships while ASC only has fuel for Matthew fans). Predictably, the people who expect to love ASC are the ones excited to see the next chapter of Matthew's journey.

And with that, we're done! I'd like to once again thank everybody who participated, especially the folks who gave long or detailed comments. I had to simplify and summarize a lot in this post, but I truly enjoyed reading everything you all had to say.

I also want to take some time at the end here to address some questions I got about why stuff in this poll was set up the way it was. First, I got a lot of people saying that Kitty should have been considered a main couple, either in addition to Morgenthorn or instead of them. I get that we (so far) have a lot more Kitty material and that most of the fanbase is far more invested in them, but I'm counting the "main couple" as the one that includes the main girl. I also got some people confused by my choice to include unpublished works like TWP and Seasons of Shadowhunters, and while I understand that perspective I still stand by my decision. I know it's not fair to the series and that people can't accurately rate things they haven't read, but I wasn't trying for that kind of accuracy; I was curious about how much people love or hate things that aren't out yet. I'd love to see how TWP and SoS factor into these rankings once we've all read them, but for now I'm happy just hearing what people expect to think about them.

Also, everyone who left random silly comments or told me their favorite characters and scenes, y'all are the real ones. I did this whole project out of my love for this series and my interest in learning why people think the way they do, and I've been amazed by the positive response. This series and world is so incredibly expansive, and I love that all of us are able to find the different niches of TSC that make us happy.

If you actually read through all this, you're awesome and thanks for supporting my passion for turning emotions into numbers. If anybody has any additional questions, I am here to chat!

Taglist:

@edwinspaynes @helenofblackthorns @whaliensdream @iovelaces @darcyolsson @sankta-wraith @magnus-the-maqnificent @blue-silver-hammer @ineedmoremalec @kingslayerzzzz @thevagabondexpress @cara0765 @uncertified-shadowhunter-14 @elytrianemrald @thomasslightwood @starrieshq @blackthornobsessed @alastaircarstairsismybff @angeldaisies @dissapointmentsrus @bananacakepie

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