#can no longer speak to him as she once could. perhaps that's just her power waning over time but if you think about it in the context

[lanayrutower]

this keeps me up at night btw.

[knavesflames]

What about some vampire king arlecchino where she drinks blood-wine and keeps reader on her lap like a pet 😋

ӄɨռӄȶօɮɛʀ աɛɛӄ 1

[scheduled post]

Thank you for kickstarting my kinktober <3 I took the idea and ran with it but I’m actually quite happy with how it turned out, and I hope everyone else is too <3

Word count: 1.8k

Contents: fingering, vampire!arlecchino x human fem!reader

Nsft utc!

Arlecchino, a vampire so powerful that she terrifies both vampires and humans alike. Rumour has it that she once killed a man just by appearing next to him and whispering. She’s hauntingly terrifying, and somehow, the most beautiful creature you’ve ever set your eyes on. You can’t trick yourself into thinking that she doesn’t horrify you, that something about her chills you to the bone and makes you almost pray she has mercy on you when she decides to kill you. Arlecchino seems to have taken a liking to you, however.

Watching you from afar each night, only appearing at your door after the clock strikes midnight, you noticed quickly that she was quite a persistent woman thing when she decided to be. At first, you ignored the knocking on the wood of your door (the only thing that separated you and her). When you refused to answer (for you knew you would meet your end the second you stared into those soulless eyes), she began speaking. Pleading, almost. “Let me in,” her voice, barely a whisper, had reached you even through the headphones you had on in an attempt to drown her out. You wondered if the powers she was rumoured to possess were, in fact, true.

You’d like to say you withstood it. That you were able to wait until she had gotten bored, and that you were not like the others. The others. What became of them, once she was finished? Were they, perhaps, the other vampires you knew roamed about the land? Or, had they become nothing more than bones buried in soil, waiting to be discovered by some aspiring archaeologist in decades to come? Nobody knew. Nobody wanted to.

Alas, you did not withstand it. After a few months of her lurking by your door, you made the grand mistake of opening it. Immediately, your eyes moved to the floor. If there was one thing you, and everyone else knew, was that it was incredibly unwise to look into her eyes. They were not normal eyes. They did not have an iris, or a pupil. They were black holes with crosses the colour of spilled blood. Something that seemed so simple, and yet, you have known of people who looked, and were left so scared they could no longer speak.

“May I enter? Your home looks ravishing.” Her voice was a drawl, one that pierced whatever guard you were attempting to put up. You opened your mouth, nothing came.

“Look at me.” You realised by then that the rumours about whatever powers she could possess were true, for you, despite your screaming mind and attempts to stay looking down, found your eyes travelling up her frame. Arlecchino was taller than you realised, and her heels certainly didn’t help. Her suit, somehow a pristine white (how odd for a bloodthirsty vampire), contrasted against the inky black in her hair. “May I enter?”

Your head unwillingly found itself nodding, but clearly, that wasn’t enough, for she demanded once more. “Say it.”

“..you can come in.” You muttered. From then, she would visit you quite often, and you would come home to find her casually sitting at your dining table. You grew quite attached to her, though you detested admitting it. When you learned that she would not leave you alone, you found yourself appeasing her, stocking up on candles she enjoyed, playing her favourite songs quietly. You both grew close, in all honesty, and you understood that the night she made your head fall back in pleasure and your voice break from the countless moans you let out. Something about her made your heart beat faster and your breathing heavier. (Was it fear or arousal? Did the fear somehow arouse you more? You refused to explore that train of thought because you knew the answer)

One October night, you come home after work only to find her there once again. Not a surprise anymore, you think, you almost knew she’d be there. On the nights where the air is bitter and there are no stars in the sky, she opts to spend her time with you. You offer a small hum of acknowledgment, but don’t look at her. You try not to look at her, ever.

“Come here.” Arlecchino’s voice carries through your small apartment, the familiar thrum of her fingers tapping on the table. When your eyes move to the table, you notice a wine glass. One of yours, you’re aware, but you didn’t own any wine. The cogs begin to turn as you take a few steps closer.

Her hand, blackened with patterns you can’t help but secretly admire, pats her knee, the soft sound of the fabric reaching your ears. You abide, once again, swallowing as you perch there, your body tense. One hand wraps around your waist, and with strength, too much strength, pulls you closer. Her body, which one would expect to be cold, is burning hot, and as much as you hate doing so, your body instinctively leans into it. The room is cold, and she seems to hum when she feels you rest your body weight onto her. Your jaw tenses when you begin to question if you’re even scared of her anymore.

Until, that is, she sips the wine in the glass she so graciously stole from you. Wine. ‘Wine’. It feels like ice shoots through your veins when you smell the familiar metallic smell of blood, the one that seems to always coat her skin just faintly. It is then that you realise she isn’t drinking wine at all, but blood. Fresh blood, even. You feel sick until her voice cuts through your mind.

“I can hear that heart of yours. Scared, hm?” The words are almost teasing, and somehow, it almost seems like she cares. You shudder when her breath (and her fang) grazes your skin as she speaks. You cannot decide if you want to stay or run. You are horrified.

“That isn’t wine.”

“No, it isn’t. I never said it was, you assumed.” Arlecchino murmurs, moving to begin placing gentle kisses along the skin of your neck, causing your eyes to flutter closed. In times like these, you forget she isn’t human anymore.

“I should have known you were like every other vampire.” You whisper, mostly to yourself. Even so, you allow your head to tilt to give her better access. Your mind is slightly fuzzy, but you hear her place the glass on the table, and you feel the way her hands are sliding under your shirt. You let her. You like it.

“I’m not like every other vampire,” she protests quietly, but the words are full of amusement and mockery. “I’m worse.” Her words are punctuated by a small bite on your earlobe, one that causes you to moan yelp. The creature woman almost chortles at your moan, and chooses to push away your bra roughly. She cups your breast like her hands were made to do so, and suddenly she isn’t so gentle. She presses hot, open mouthed kisses onto your jaw, your neck, your shoulder, whatever skin she can access. Your arms circle her shoulders, and your hands weave into the snowy strands of her ponytail. When she gets this way, you always wonder whether she’s going to eat you, or, well, eat you.

Slender fingers fumble with the buttons of your jeans for a few seconds before she gets irritated, muttering a low curse before using those sharp, sharp nails to just rip the fabric. She lets out a noise of satisfaction when she hears the seams rip and you gasp. Without even thinking, you let your thighs spread, and she hums in approval.

“Good. Keep them like that, or else.”

“Or else, what?” You breathe, but the only reply you get is her fangs digging into your skin just slightly. You let out a breathy sigh, relishing each time her lips move against your skin, each time the tip of her fangs touch your skin, threatening, but never acting. (You’re unsure if she ever would bite you) (on certain evenings with her, you almost wish she would so you could spend your life with her)

“Please,” you murmur, and it seems that tonight, she is merciful, for her fingers move between your folds, a low chuckle coming from her throat.

“Excited, are we?” Arlecchino dons a wicked grin that only grows when she pushes said fingers into you, eliciting a cry of pleasure from you. She starts slowly, letting you adjust, but after only a few movements, your body is asking for more, hips twitching in an attempt to get her to hit that spot.

She does as you want her to, again, and again until each breath of yours comes out as a groan, a moan or a whimper. Your hands grip onto her suit like it’s a lifeline, your eyes are squeezed shut.

“I could bite you now,” she murmurs, clearly excited by even the thought of it. Clearly, you are too, by the sound you make and your heart beats faster. “I like you too much to do that, my plaything, but the thought is good, no?”

Each thrust of her fingers brings you closer and she’s very, very aware of that. You are, too. Your hips are essentially riding her fingers at this point, and she lets you. “I have heard that blood tastes the best when one orgasms. Should we try? I think yours would taste the sweetest.”

Those words alone seem to send you over the edge, because with a final whine, your breath stops for a second and you see stars. “Fuck—“ your swearing is so loud that it echoes the room, and Arlecchino knows that for as long as she exists, she will remember the sound of it, even after you are long gone (unless she can gather the courage to turn you one day. She can’t fathom the idea that she turns you and one day you despise her, that she’ll have to walk around with that knowledge).

Sliding her fingers out of you with a slick pop, her tongue darts out, wetting her lips before resting her fingers on her tongue. She moans at the taste of it, she believes it’s better than any blood she could ever taste. Arlecchino used to tell herself that she’d get what she wanted and leave you for the rest of the night, but these days, she’s been staying much longer than she should be. So, when you end up talking asleep on her, she lets you, even choosing to stroke your hair and trace circles against the pulse point in your neck with one hand, her other now holding the wine glass again. She thinks absentmindedly for a long time, swirling the wine in her glass.

By the time you awaken, you’re in your bed, blankets tucked around your body, the apartment’s heating on medium, and her lipstick marking the pulse points of your wrist and your neck.

[thecordelialetters]

She's my Angel I Five Hargreeves x Reader

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Post Apocalypse Au! Pt2 Pt3

WC: ~3,258 Warnings/Tags: Sexual Tension, Mentions of Abuse, Agedup!Five, Mentions of previous trauma, 18+

Summary: The Umbrella Academy saved the world, the Commission is no longer after them, the moon is in one piece and everyone’s lives start to fall back into place. Five attempts to start his life over again when Klaus brings home a girl with unusual shadow powers. ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡

˚

The Apocalypse was over and Five Hargreaves did what he did best, drink and cope. The first few weeks of freedom he tried things he had missed early on in his childhood. It started when Viktor took him shopping for a new, more appropriate wardrobe, that someone who looked his age would wear. Then he would often visit the park just to admire the beauty of places that were once a baron landscape. And sometimes he just spent his time reading catching up on what he missed in the last few years.

But old habits die hard when you spend 54 years alone and the next 2 weeks desperate to save yourself and save your family. Maybe Klaus was right when he called the apocalypse his drug because, for a while, it was all he’d ever know.

Five hadn’t slept well in a long time and despite his newfound freedom without the looming feeling of impending doom. He would find himself waking up at 4 am to check his window and just to see if everything was real.

The Academy had been empty for a bit, the first week his family had stayed back to collect themselves, celebrate, and appreciate one another but slowly their lives fell back into place. Allison went back to Claire wanting to get back her career and her daughter back. Luther wanted to find his independence and took a small helping from his inheritance to live on his own. Diego and Lila had also moved out in hopes of continuing to grow their relationship and perhaps find happiness in normalcy. Viktor, now confident in himself wanting to explore the world more began traveling and meeting new people. To Five it felt like everyone had moved on, except him. He had been the one to jump through time, and now he felt like he was stuck in it.

However this morning, his silent coffee and breakfast time was interrupted but a surprisingly sober Klaus barging through the door with a girl no taller than 5’3 who looked as if she had been dragged through the mud and a forest in his arms.

“I didn’t know where to bring her she ran into me frantic and couldn’t speak much,”

“There wasn’t anyone chasing her so I have no idea where she came from and she’s in pretty bad shape.”

Klaus looked panicked, he felt bad for the beat-up girl in his arms but what could he do besides bring her to the place he knew could help her best.

Grace and Pogo immediately took action, bringing the girl into the spare room to care for her wounds.

“What makes you think you can just bring random people in here? She could be dangerous?”

Five arched his eyebrow at Klaus’s behavior. He wasn’t a trusting man but he trusted his brother’s intuition and the girl genuinely looked like she needed help.

“I couldn’t just leave her on the road. I’m not a bad person Five. There’s something different about her I swear.”

Five looked distrustful at what his brother was saying.

“Well, we’ll just have to see when she wakes up.”

The two went back to doing their own things in the Academy waiting for you to wake up.

————————-3 days later————————

The sun shone brightly in the room you stayed at. Your eyes slowly opened, blinking harshly to adjust to the shining light. You had no idea where you were, this new place was uncomfortable and unfamiliar. Warm wood furniture decorated the walls, and the mattress you slept on seemed more comfy, soft, and warmer than your old hay-filled cot. Unsurprisingly your wounds ached but were clean nevertheless. You jumped when the door swung open to reveal a monkey? no an ape? in a suit. "Ah you're finally awake, Ill let the others know"

"I am Pogo by the way, please rest, we don't want your stitches reopening." Maybe it was the exhaustion catching up to you, but you listened to his words and laid back, staring at the large high ceilings waiting to see if whoever brought you here would be like your old doctors. Back downstairs Pogo noticed Five pacing around in the living room. "Any troubles worrying you?" "Yes that girl, I can't find any information about her, she had no ID, no name card, I even looked around the area trying to track back where she came from, and nothing." Five glanced around, more cautious of his surroundings

"What if the commission sent her?" "This is not good, not good at all"

And with a quick turn, he teleported to the room of which his unwelcome guest occupied. A flash of blue interrupted your daydreams when a boy about your age in a green flannel, cargo pants, with slightly long side parted hair entered your space. Besides appearing out of nowhere he looked almost normal, but that didn't stop you from being scared. Shivering you pushed yourself back on the bed as far as you could to try to get away from him. Sensing your fear Five held out his hands as a way to show you some form of peace. Lowering one hand he slowly approached you. But the closer he came the farther back you shuffled. Something wasn't right Five thought. You were terrified of him, what had happened to you to cause you to be in such a state.

Hey Im not going to hurt you, I don't know who you are but Im not going to hurt you." Five could see that you weren't budging so he reached into his pocket and pulled out a hazelnut toffee-flavored candy. He wasn't a big fan of sweets but had kept some from his last visit to a local coffee shop. "Here you must be a little hungry, it's good to see." He popped it in his mouth to show her that it was safe, not a trick. Slowly you reached out and touched his hand, grabbing the little treat, unwrapping it before letting the gooey sweet melt on your tongue. Five smiled at your reaction. "See? It was good." He thought you looked adorable with big doe eyes waiting to see if he had any more. He reached into his right pocket and pulled out another handle full of candies. "Ill give you one each time you answer a question. Can you do that for me?" You nodded slowly. "Okay, can you tell me your name?" "Angel" you pointed to yourself "Five" you pointed to him. You had heard Klaus shouting his name when you entered the house. "Angel? Do you have a last time?" "Five. Five Hargreeves" He pointed to himself. "Angel" You repeated. Okay maybe you didn't have a last name that was fine, at least he had gotten a name. He gave you another candy and watched you excitedly open it. "Okay Angel, another question where did you come from? Who or what were you running from?" "Doctor" you responded looking down. "What Doctor? What did he do to you." You felt like you should have known better than to trust the boy in front of you, but he looked so earnest so sweet, that you decided to show him your secret. Opening your fist a ball of shadows appeared in your hand before you tossed it into the air letting whatever light was in the room dissipate. Five knew what this had suggested. Whoever took you, held you captive, and experimented on you. Perhaps they were trying to make you into one of the unlucky 43. Another candy was handed to you.

“Show me more” Five demanded. You blinked at him slowly before he put another candy in your hand. “Show me.”

You looked at him and brought both your hands up into the air. He watched shadows run from the ground into the room and swirl around you. It appeared you could summon shadows at your will and control them.

“Good girl” and another candy as placed in your hand. "Tell me, Angel, do you know where or who it was? Do you know the name of the commission?" You stared at him blankly not understanding what he said. Before Five could ask any more questions Klaus had burst through the door. "My Angel! You are okay !" As he rushed towards you to grab your face. Stunned you jolted back from his presence. "Angel, that's why she called herself that, it's not her name, it’s what you called her!" Five went to smack Klaus in the back of the head when his hand was stopped by a shadow. "No hurt, Klaus friend" With heart eyes, Klaus dove into Angel's arms "LOOK AT MY ANGEL PROTECTING ME!!" With the gentleness of a newborn deer, Angel reached out to Klaus with a small sweet in her hand. "Candy?" "For me? Of course, Angel thank you!" Rolling his eyes at the scene Five teleported to his room to think. Where had this girl come from she had no name could barely speak and had a dark power with unknown consequences. Angel clad in Umbrella Academy uniform, and Klaus were in the living room when a flash appeared in the doorway. "Cinco! Where are you off to?" "Library I need to do some research." But just before he would reach for the doorknob a body was flung into his back. "Here take Angel with you, she needs a new set of clothes, can't have her wearing this uniform, you know all about that wouldn't you?" Klaus said as he shoved Angel forward. "I don't have time, I'm not a babysitter." Five expressed as he grabbed your arms and pushed you back. "Five...mad?" You looked up at Five with tears in your eyes. Reaching out to his face with his hand you softly pet his cheek. "Five...happy. Happy"

The time travelers face softened at the kindness you showed while trying to console him.

“I’m sorry Angel, yes Five is happy. Come on let’s go.”

He grabbed your hand ignoring the feeling of his heart when your soft skin wrapped around his.

————————-In the Car—————————

“Alright Angel, as cute as you look in the uniform we have to get you some normal clothes.”

Five looked over at you, but you were looking out the window. His green eyes passed over the cuts on your legs and the faint but visible bruises on your neck. It wondered him how someone could do this to you, turn a girl who seemed like an Angel into a shadow user. He parked the car at Gimble's before flashing to your side of the door to open it, Five was still a gentleman after all. "Okay now Angel, we're here to buy you some new clothes." You nodded your head to show you understood him and hopped out of the car excited to see the world around you. Being locked up for so long you had forgotten what the outside world looked like. Today the sky was blue with warm gusts of winds filling the air. People and families were seen chattering about. You reached out to grab Five's arm and pulled him closer to the store. Five chucked at your childlike antics, letting himself be whisked away by you. You dragged him to the dress section; some of the kinder doctors had given you books to look at to pass the time, many of them being princess books. There were cute frilly dresses that caught your eye immediately. Rushing forward you grabbed 3 dresses that might have suited you. With a sigh Five grabbed your shoulders wanting to tell you to go find some more practical everyday clothes. But after seeing the glimmer in your eye as if you found the most priceless thing...he couldn't bear take that away from you. "Come on Princess, let's go try them on." He ushered you to the changing room and waited outside. As he turned his back you grabbed his hand, but Five had yanked it back at the unexpected contact. He wasn't completely used to physical touch yet.

Ignoring this you grabbed his hand once more and tried to take him into the dressing room with you. "No Angel I can't go with you, just put on the dresses inside and Ill wait out here."

You had refused to let go of his hand. With another sign he allowed himself to be pulled into the confined space of the changing room. You quickly shimmied out of the uniform skirt and tie throwing it into a random corner. Five's face turned a deep scarlet red, although he was an older man the sight of your small and barely clothes body was enough to make him shift in his pants. Before he could embarrass himself any further he blinked out into the waiting room fanning his face as if he ran a marathon. There were small warning signs in his brain, don't get too attached, she doesn't know better, please don't get a boner right now. Trying to collect himself he put his hands in his face wanting to be anywhere but here right now. You interrupted his train of thought when you came out bouncing with a big smile on your face. The dress you picked out was a cute white summer dress that was white had thick straps tied on your shoulders. The skirt part stopped right above your knees and flared out with a twirl. You looked absolutely adorable, an Angel who wielded the power of a devil. "You look...beautiful" Five muffled through his hand. "Beautiful?" You questioned. "Yes you, Angel, you are beautiful." And as if your smile couldn't get any bigger, you ran and jumped into Five, his arms slowly wrapping around your frame to prevent you from falling.

"Five! Beautiful!" You smiled and pointed at him. Your fingers had graced his cheeks into a smile. Pointing at his dimple "Five! Beautiful" you repeated. "Oh, you think I'm beautiful Angel?" Five couldn't help but also feel happy and continue smiling, something about you felt like a breath of fresh air. His last few weeks had been nonstop paranoia and feeling the effects of an identity crisis, but hearing your laughter and seeing you call him beautiful, it felt as if he was actually living again. However, that didn't stop the nagging fear in the back of his mind of where you came from and what had happened to you. Perhaps it was the assassin in him that just couldn't let him...enjoy a moment. "Come on Angel, let’s get the rest of the dresses and pay. We need to head to the library before it closes." You nodded your head and skipped off to grab the rest of your dresses and clothes. You and Five stood at the cashier waiting to pay. "That will be 45.78." Five pulled out a 50 and felt your head lean on his shoulder. "Five, thank you." You looked up at him with a mischievous gleam in your eye. As he was retrieving his change you leaned up and placed your soft lips on the corner of his mouth. "Five happy?" He looked down at you and blushed "Yes Five is very happy." ————————The Library—————————- You were sat in Five's lap flipping through a picture book while he was doing research. Unfortunately, there was almost no information about any kind of suspicious activities in the area where they had found you or even how you even got to the city. Five had to expand his research on places that might have to do with experimental tests but with so little access he was found himself at a dead end. "Nothing! Absolutely Nothing!" Five yelled before slamming his notebook on the table. You jumped in his lap and covered your ears, eyes filling with heavy teardrops waiting to fall. "Shit Angel Im sorry come here." He cooed wrapping his arms around you for the fourth time today. Five pressed a kiss to the top of your hair and inhaled slowly. You smelt like a blooming meadow and a hint of cinnamon. Closing his eyes he rested his head on yours. It wasn't been often when he felt a peace like this, heck he didn’t even remember the last time he felt calm, other than when he was drinking or passed out after a mission. Your eyelashes fluttered on his neck as you began to press small kisses on his jawline. "Come on Angel what are you doing?" "Make Five happy. Kiss you" You mumbled and continued leaving marks on his neck and jaw. Five clenched his fists around you "Angel if you keep this us I'm not going to be able to hold back." Five groaned as he pulled you closer into his lap. And with his last bit of resolve, he blinked you guys back into the car. "Come on Angel let's go home." He kissed your cheek slightly to assure you he wasn't mad and drove the two of you back. ————————the academy———————--- "Mi hermano and Angel ! You guys are back" Klaus shouted from the couch he was currently lying on. You ran into the living room jumping in front of Klaus to show off your dress.

"My cutie Angel! You look so pretty!"

Klaus then swept you off your feet and into a fit of giggles. Five, who had been observing the scene from the bar was actively trying to fight off the green monster that was creeping up his heart. "Leave her alone Klaus we had a long day. Come on Angel let's have your shower and get ready for bed." It was obvious you needed to be cared for and Five had already begun to assume the role. Pulling out some extra pajamas Five had in his wardrobe he handed them to you before showing you the bathroom. "Shower here and come back to my room when you are done okay?" You nodded back and went into the bathroom. With a sign Five flopped on his back in bed wondering more about you. How could someone he just met cause him to feel such a way? Maybe it was his messed up time-traveling brain that was causing these emotions but deep down he knew he had a hidden attraction to you. He began to think more about your powers. You couldn't be part of the 43 because you were too young but you also showed an understanding of your abilities and more control than Viktor did when he first found out about his. Five would have to talk to you after you shower about your abilities. Small footsteps padded outside his room before stopping. The door swung open and there you stood wrapped in only a small towel Grace had given you. Five green eyes turned wide as you skipped into his room.. You had turned to grab the pajamas he had left you on the bed and dropped your towel. Five sat up instantly, his eyes wandered over the curve of your breasts and the plumpness of your backside. Being in the apocalypse and focused on getting back home to his family never allowed him much time for romance or women, besides Delores. You stood up as bare as the day you were born, nipples perked up at the cold air and you put the silk top and bottom on. Now properly clothed you turned to Five who was staring at you with eyes that rivaled a burning sun. In a blink, he was in front of you grabbing your waist with such a force it felt like you would disappear if he let go. Bringing his lips to your neck he kissed gently and dragged his face to meet your eyes. Soft despreate lips met plump shy ones as you and Five melted into each other. The kiss grew hungry, more desperate, both parties missing the feel of one another. The two of you fell back onto the bed with Five on top of you. Two souls both isolated from the world finally finding solstice in one another. All the questions Five had for you were gone from his mind, the only thing replacing it was the thought of how your body felt against his. A small hand reached into the front of Five's pants. "I want to help Five" You had whispered into his ear. It was going to be a long night.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ Authors note : I kinda of wrote this on a whim in the middle of the night. I’d want to make this into a full series although and go really in depth about Angel who she is and how she got her powers and I defiantly want to bring back the rest of the Hargreaves but I'm not sure when Ill have another creative burst.

[shrimpybbq]

Blessing in Disguise (2)

Abstract: A war-torn Gwayne is presented with an opportunity when the dragon of a Targaryen Princess is shot down near his camp. A once devout follower of his Knight's oath, Gwayne no longer sees much point when Criston Cole gifts him Princess, his only requirement being to keep her alive. The Hightower Knight has suppressed his own urges for so long, but now, he no longer wishes to, not when he's been given a sweet Princess just for himself.

Warnings: abuse of power, prisoner/captor dynamics, gross men, restraints, Gwayne is growing more delulu, future dubcon/noncon (not proof read)

Author’s Note: this chapter is seriously diving into just how much Gwayne is loosing it, and building up his motives and morals. He thinks of himself as a saviour and all his actions are rooted in this need to keep protecting the Princess.

Tag List: @torchbearerkyle @beautifultacodragon

Two days had passed since the Princess was captured, and two days had passed since Gwayne had been given the responsibility of keeping her alive. For the first day, he’d faced little trouble as the still unconscious girl slumbered in his tent, her frame draped across his own makeshift bed. The turmoil was rife within the knight however; for he knew little of what to do with the girl. To keep her hidden away in his tent for the rest of the campaign seemed cruel, but letting the Princess roam around the camp was a risk that could bring doom to the army. While he didn’t know for certain of her likely reaction upon waking, Gwayne felt that the Princess would not take kindly to her newfound position as captive.

The second day helped the knight make up his mind, for the Princess began to rouse herself from her state. He’d been eating the claggy paste they called oatmeal when movement caught his eye from across the tent. With sluggish movements, the girl pushed her weak and frail body up to a somewhat seated position as her eyes took in her surroundings. Gwayne found the confused expression on her face amusing, but sighed deeply as her eyes widened in alarm upon laying her sights on the Hightower Green of his doublet and the red of his hair. He watches as she begins to sputter and gasp as she tries to speak, but despite her best efforts, her brain fails to deliver a coherent question to the knight.

“You are in no position to run, or much less even argue, so I suggest you still yourself whilst I explain the predicament you’ve found yourself in,” Gwayne’s lilting voice cutting across the tent, his words stilling any movement from the Princess. Though he’s attempted to make his tone lighter, it’s clear that his tone carries a subtle warning.

The Princess nods softly before speaking, her voice hoarse and croaky due to disuse, “Wh-who are you?”

She fears she knows and yet some part of her hopes that perhaps it has been a case of mistaken identity - that this man across from her, whose tent she lays in, is not the brother to the Queen Dowager.

“Ser Gwayne Hightower, Princess.” It’s all he says. Gwayne notices the crestfallen expression on her face deepen, her fingers beginning to play with the threads of the blanket. “Your dragon was slain after it flew above our territory, the scorpion striking it down with great accuracy. It was not expected that Rhaenyra would have sent her only daughter on dragonback and yet, there you were.”

“M-my drag-”

Gwayne doesn’t let her speak and instead continues his recounting. “Criston Cole made the decision that your life should be spared. He wishes to use you as tool to garner your mother’s surrender, and in turn, has granted you the most esteemed opportunity of a true camp experience.”

The sweet Princess can only listen silently and a small twinge strikes at Gwayne’s heart as tears begin to fall down her cheeks. He lets her process his words, scraping the last remnants of his oatmeal from the wooden bowl. When she says no more, the knight moves to leave the tent when a timid voice stops him in his tracks.

“What will you do with me?”

The Princess watches the man freeze, his broad back tense and rigid. He stays near the entrance, arms clutching the fabric of the tent as he seems to ponder his answer. She had heard stories of the honourable Ser Gwayne Hightower and yet, chills crash over her at his next words.

“Whatever I so wish, I suppose, as long as your heart still beats in your chest.”

That night the princess remains in his bed, her hands bound and tied to the wooden post holding up the tents fabric. He’s given her some tether, at least allowing her to relax her arms and continue to rest. The Princess had almost drifted into an unpeaceful slumber when a rustling sound echoed around the tent, and a disheveled Hightower strode through the entrance. She had little time to process his intentions as the knight flung off his boots and undid his doublet, leaving him only in his trousers and tunic, watching wide-eyed as he stalked over to the makeshift bed.

“What are you doing?!” The princess shrieked as Gwayne lowered his body next to hers, the flimsy material dipping with his body weight.

“I am sleeping, or at least I hope to be.”

“Get away from me! How dare you,” the girl cried, her body tense as she flung her body out of the bed.

“You may struggle to recall this, but this is my tent. You have been sleeping in my bed and as much as it pleases me to see you enjoying it so, I too wish to rest,” Gwayne bites out, his tone laced with sarcasm and thinly veiled contempt. She could’ve been sleeping on the dirt floor and here she still complains.

Gwayne hears her muttering “no, no” and finds little inside of himself to care, instead tugging on the restraints binding her hands. The squeal as she falls back into the bed makes him smirk, pushing the girl into the fabric and covering her with a blanket.

“Sleep. And keep any foolish ideas you may have of escaping to yourself, for you have no dragon or the faintest idea of your location.”

Gwayne rolls away from the Princess, feeling smug with himself at the lack of response he receives, though the rigid frame of the girl seems to be conveying enough to him. She knows her hopes of escape will not come to fruition tonight, not with the Hightower sleeping by her side. She can’t even retaliate when his heavy frame drapes over her own during the night, arms slung across her stomach as he clings to her body heat. Restless, she lies there listening to his languid breaths, her own heart pounding with anxiety.

The Princess had been in the camp for what felt like months, though her stay had only totalled five days. It seemed that her and her captor had fallen into a somewhat amicable routine: Gwyane would venture down with the Princess to the nearby lake to allow bathe, and the pair would break their fast with the rest of the soldiers. He would then return her to his tent while he talked strategy with Criston, leaving the girl alone, but not unsupervised. He’d given up use of the rope that had attached to her ankle after the first night in the bed, but the knight was still wary of the Princess trying to escape. In the evenings the two would sit by a small fire in the common area of the camp and eat their meager meals, Gwayne even allowing the girl her own cup of mead to wash the bread down. Gwayne couldn’t deny that it felt comforting to have another’s presence as a constant, especially after such long periods of loneliness and isolation. He even begins to warm to his captive, small chuckles leaving his lips more often as they conversed.

And yet their moments of ambivalence seemed to come crashing down as Gwayne left to fetch more mead, only to return and see a common soldier leering over the Princess. His stout body crowded into her space, his hands clutching at her shoulders, the fabric ripping in his harsh grip. From a distance it was difficult for Gwayne to hear the man’s words, though he held strong suspicions of their nature, however as he covered ground his ears picked up more and more.

“Mmm… do you think you could handle the cock of a real man, Princess?” the man muttered sleazily, “I don’t think you could. All you Royal cunts act like you’re above us, but maybe you just need a little demonstration.”

The Princess’s discomfort was plain for all to see, no more so than Gwayne. Her shaking frame and teary eyes look around broadly, pleading for an intervention as her bottom lip trembles in fear. It only takes him a moment to unsheath his sword, raising it to the neck of the soldier.

“Remove your vile hands before I do so for you,” he demands, his tone firm and gaze locked on the scum in front of him. Gwayne revels in the shock that crosses the soldier’s face and his disappearance from his sight shortly after. Common-born folk always aim far above their station, coveting what should never be sullied by them, Gwayne thinks.

The Hightower is caught up in his thoughts as he brings the Princess back to his tent. His chest feels as if it’s filling up with anger, breathing growing heavy at the feeling of the Princess trembling under his grip. Many soldiers had been invited to fight with a great army in the name of the King, and yet here they stood leering and preying on the King’s own niece. Such depravity should be expected of commoners but to dare even suggest of defiling a Princess of the Realm would ordinarily be treason.

It’s only the wide, teary eyes that finally snap Gwayne out of his thoughts. The Princess is clutching his arm, her body pressed into his side as she looks up, lower lip still trembling. The girl had been scared out of her mind, too weak and powerless to stop any advances, and now here she stood a wreck because of it. To see the Princess looking up at him in such a way sends a new series of thoughts running through Gwayne’s mind, tightening his breeches and quickening his breathing.

The men in the camp were only acting in such a depraved way due to a misguided conception that the Princess was not spoken for. They believed that she was free for the taking, for any common man to use and keep. She was his captive though no man seemed to acknowledge his stake of claim over her. She slept in his tent each night, in his bed, by his side. If that would not convince these vile men to back away, then only one thing would. Gwayne was a flawed man, he himself could acknowledge that, but he would protect the Princess as was asked of him, in any way he could. And if that meant he would need to make his position clearer to the camp then he would.

The Princess would understand the actions he needed to take, he thinks, as his hand begins to brush at the exposed skin on her shoulder where her dress had torn. As her breath hitches at the contact, Gwayne can’t help his growing smirk - she’s so responsive to him, not even aware of how she’s pushing her body closer to him unconscionably. He can feel her plush breasts press against his chest and her hips against his own, though she seems unaware of the growing hardness pressing against her stomach.

The Hightower knight assures himself that he won’t enjoy his next actions, for it is only his duty to keep the Princess safe and protected from those who wish to do her harm. He assures himself that the Seven will grant him forgiveness, for he is only acting as any nobleman would. Finally, Gwayne assures himself that the Princess would forgive him for what he was about to do - soon she would understand that becoming his own spoil of war would keep her safe from other men of less valiant intentions. She would thank him sooner or later - she would, he reassures himself over and over again as he begins to lead the Princess over to his makeshift bed. He ignores the thought in the back of his mind telling him that even if she withheld her forgiveness, he wouldn’t mind too much - he would care much less than he should.

[bisclavret]

there's a palpable missing link in gwen's characterization that the show has almost hinted at but never explored in a satisfactory way and after hours of riffing with @morganadismay i think it might be summarized with just. ambition? on a show as juvenile in its moral politics as bbc merlin ambition might be seen as a hunger for something and therefore a sinful bad thing so gwen just seemed to kind of seamlessly and elegantly rise to power, but honestly when you attribute a sense of ambition to her, the entire character that is guinevere clicks into place:

she has the most solid moral compass out of everyone in that castle - and she knows it. by her late teens she is already lady morgana's servant (morgana who, at this point, is the progressive and rebellious "adoptive" daughter of the king - perhaps someone to stay close to if you want to see reform?) and she flocks to merlin the second she sees him stand up to the prince. then, as soon as she realizes prince arthur actually listens to what she has to say and that it has an effect on his actions (makes him more progressive, open-minded, and class conscious) she subtly moves her interest from merlin and morgana onto him.

((affection is a propelling part of all these decisions, of course, anyone that's seen how gwen treats people doesn't doubt that it's with genuine love and kindness and care for their well-being. i'm just trying to argue that there's more to her than that, or rather that it's precisely this love that is driving her ambition as well:))

the show is written in such a way that only one person per episode can have a braincell so gwen's cleverness is often cast to the wayside so another character can have a go at using their brain, but we can all agree she is overall the smartest character out of the core four. and when you're as smart and full of love and worry as gwen is, it's intolerable to acutely feel the kingdom's injustices and do nothing about them. people often talk about how gwen is impossible to upset or make angry because she is just that empathetic and understanding and can easily put herself in people's shoes. these are definitely elements of gwen's personality, but i don't care how empathetic you are, when someone kills your dad - a sweet, innocent man - in the name of tyrannical ethnic cleansing of people with magic, you do not, you cannot brush it away. especially if you are as clever and empathetic as we know gwen to be.

and yet that's what she seems to do. in one of the most tone-deaf and frustrating and nonsensical conversations in the entire show, she tells merlin she would not kill uther, the mad tyrant king that just killed her fucking dad and is killing so many people on a daily basis, because then she would be just as bad as him. and i do think she believes this. because that's how she was written. however, there were other ways for her to show her displeasure with the royal family after they killed her literal dad. and she chose none. instead, she stayed close and hardly ever acknowledged her huge, enormous loss (elyan had been away for years and she had no mother to speak of - they killed her only family).

because she's strong? sure. but have you lost a loving parent? strength has nothing to do with what that sort of grief does to you. and i think it is precisely through that grief that gwen makes her choice to stick around and see this relationship with the royal family through as far as it can go. she lets her anger solidify into determination - determination to turn arthur into a better version of his father so these injustices have a chance at stopping once he's king.

she lets go of lancelot. she becomes more feminine, her hair longer and her corsets tighter every time we see her. she tolerates arthur's indecisiveness and brashness and morgana's increasing outbursts of cruelty. she never fully seems to expect to become queen, always quick to offer to let go of arthur for The Greater Good (merlin could take a page from her book), but that's precisely what makes her ambition a good trait. it's steadfast, it's logical, and the end goal isn't power for the sake of power. it's a slow, borderline sisyphean climb up the social ladder until she has stable enough footing to enact the reform that her contemporaries were too undiplomatic to achieve.

TL;DR you cannot get where gwen gets by the end of the show through true love or luck or a series of accidents. it would be a disservice to gwen's character to ignore the hints of calculating ambition in her actions and to pretend the compromises she had to make to get where she ends up were easy. what's amazing about her is that she is the sort of lovely, warm woman whose kindness could get taken advantage of until there is nothing left, but instead she turned her love and wisdom into an asset that helped her, essentially, win the game of thrones. i just wish the writers had let this side of her shine through.

[tinytalkingtina]

Writing a Happier Ending

Written for the November @steddiemicrofic prompt, using the word "guard" and 532 words

Rating G | Ao3 link

Tags: Fairy tale, cursed Prince Steve, falling in love, first kisses, "as you wish" continuing to be peak romance

Thank you to steddiecameraroll-graphics for the lovely divider!

Once upon a time, a king and queen ruled over a kingdom bordered by a great lake. Though skilled in matters of diplomacy, and outwardly kind to those of their own station, the couple had never been blessed with a child. 

The lack of an heir was a never-ending source of embarrassment for the king and queen. Their resentment towards each other grew and grew, until one day the pair sought out an audience with the powerful Fairy of the Forest.

When they begged her for a miracle, the fairy asked them why they wanted to have a child:

“You have a prosperous kingdom, why would you ask for more?”

The King and Queen replied that they wished to have an heir, so that their legacy might continue, and so someone might speak of their virtues long after they were gone.

The fairy thought for a moment.

“Very well,” she said. “I can grant you what you desire. But it comes at a price. Your child shall never truly be loved by another, unless they can see and accept him as he is.”

The monarchs readily agreed.

Prince Stephen was born soon after, a squalling star-marked beauty. 

As the years passed and the prince grew, his parents held onto lofty expectations for their son. But no matter how hard he tried, the prince could never quite meet them. Eventually, the king and queen turned their attentions elsewhere.

One day, the prince made a rare appearance in town. Eddie tried not to gawk, as hard as it was.

Jeff saw him staring and rolled his eyes. “Everyone knows Prince Stephen is nothing but a pleasure seeker who’s bedded half the court. Better to stay clear of him.”

Surrounded by fawning courtiers, at first glance Stephen seemed just as vapid as Jeff proclaimed him to be. But the longer Eddie looked, the more he saw how people flocked to him only with selfish demands, and how guarded Stephen kept himself.

It was curiosity that drove Eddie to steal into the palace gardens that night, unable to rest until he found out what lay beneath the mask. Deep within the hedge maze, he found Stephen all alone, his brow furrowed in concentration as he stared at a book by candlelight.

Eddie's foot hit a stick on the path.

At the noise, Stephen drew his sword, but sighed when he found Eddie, frozen in fear.

“Hello. I suppose you also want something from me like all the others.”

Eddie stared at the tired and sad face before him.

“I don't want anything from you, your majesty.” Eddie replied. “But do you wish for something?”

Stephen shrugged. “Perhaps you can help me read this book. The letters dance around when I try.”

“I think that can be arranged,” Eddie said with a smile.

He returned the next evening, and many times after that. 

Every night, the prince would ask Eddie what he wanted from him. And each night, Eddie would ask instead what Stephen desired for. Seasons passed, until one day he asked for something new:

“I wish for a kiss from someone who loves me.” Given permission, Eddie drew Stephen close.

“As you wish, my heart.”

And then the two of them ran away to start new lives elsewhere. Stephen learned how to do his own laundry and they lived happily ever after, the end.

Misc. notes: -Eddie ran an apothecary in town

-It was implied, but the idea with Steve seeking meaningless sex from those around him was it at least let him pretend someone cared for him, poor thing

[literary-motif]

In All My Dreams I Drown

Asirel Cain x Reader

Asirel experiences sleep paralysis.

Warnings: Insomnia, sleep paralysis

Asirel was not afraid of the dark. He had never been. The inky blackness of night had a way of soothing him. It seemed almost like the only escape from the crushing responsibility he carried during the day — almost because although the US slept, there were plenty of places around the world that were bussing with life and plenty of phone calls and e-mails he received during the dark hours. 

Still, it felt different. Breathing was easier during the night. He had always enjoyed being awake while the world around him slept. 

He had stretched this indulgence a little too far, it seemed. 

When he first started he had finished business at perhaps one in the morning, going off to bed soon after. One had turned to two over the years, two to three. Now when he looked up from his computer screen, it was usual to see the blue tint of the early morning light, just before the sunrise. He went to bed when the sun rose, but his daily responsibilities never lessened. 

Somehow, there was always more to do — more to plan, more to think about,  more to work out. He was always busy, and although his hours of sleep had been steadily reduced over many years, the time he tried to wake up rarely varied. 

It was becoming an issue. Asirel was very much aware of that. He had fought long and hard to reduce his hours, choosing to slip into bed as early as eleven at night, only to lie awake until the early hours anyway. 

What had started as simply an unconventional sleeping schedule had developed into a more serious issue. 

“Mr. Cain,” the blonde woman before him had said, giving him a sympathetic smile he thought she must flash to every patient. The sterile whiteness of her office nearly outshone the brightness of her coat, the stethoscope practically gleaming under the harsh artificial lights. “I am afraid there is not much I can do. Plainly speaking, it seems to me that you are under a lot of stress — if you reduce the stress, I am sure your insomnia will disappear.”

He had wanted to scoff but returned her smile with his own. It was polite, although a bit sardonic. “How do you suppose I do that, Doctor?”

She blinked as if nobody had ever asked her that question. “Well, it depends on what causes the stress, but either way I’d suggest—”

Physical activity. This time he did scoff, hiding it behind a cough. 

Working out seemed the cure for everything, just like water. Asirel, have you tried going outside more? His mother’s words had felt mocking, and hearing the same advice from this professional who did not take his ailment seriously made a bitter taste appear in his mouth. 

Headache? Drink some water. Back pain? Have you tried losing weight? Insomnia? Why, do some sports! 

Pathetic. He took the prescription for sleeping pills without another word. 

Sleeplessness in adults was very common, stress from work being mostly the cause of it, and although he supposed everyone experienced a bad night of sleep every once in a while — where they tossed and turned endlessly, without getting their mind to shut up as thoughts and worries swirled around until night turned to day and it felt like they had not slept at all — if these issues persisted for over half a month, things were no longer casual. 

Reduce the stress she had said. How exactly could he do that, when his very existence came with a relentless pressure pushing down on his shoulders? His life was heavy. He did important things, and although he loved the responsibility and influence he had — the power. He loved the power of his job — he was the first to admit that his work had cost him many sleepless nights and hours pouring over papers at his desk with seemingly no end in sight. 

The world was draining him of his strength, the love for his work — and the determination to change things according to his vision for it — faded under the relentless strain he had been under. He was at the end of his rope.

Much like a broken arm or sprained ankle, his insomnia hurt. It had causes, it had consequences. His mind felt like mush on some days, his thoughts dragging along until it took too much energy to direct their stream. His memory worsened, and the days blended — he remembered only little bursts of something, the important bits of meetings and conversations while all the rest faded to black. 

How long since he had last seen his mother? A day? A week? When had his sister called? This morning? The day before yesterday? It was all a big lump of gray. 

When had he last fed you? It must not have been that long ago, or else you would have complained.

Asirel was exhausted. He needed the world to stop for a day until he had his mind back together and ceased fraying at the edges. He took two sleeping pills, downing them with a large gulp of water.

They did not work as he had wished. He lay on his back, listening to the clock ticking on the other side of the room until his eyelids dropped, but he did not sleep. He lay awake for hours — still hours — until he slipped into oblivion, but his sleep was far from restful. 

It felt like he did not sleep at all.

He thought he opened his eyes in the morning, looking at the rays of sun streaming in through his window. He found he could not move. His heart skipped a beat, his mind slipping into a spiral of panic that the rational part of his brain sliced through with two words: sleep paralysis.

Where were the hallucinations? 

As the thought crossed his mind, he heard it. Loud banging came from the hallway, stomping that came closer and closer. His heart sped up, fear pulling him under despite knowing this was not real. He knew it, but the bangs approaching, getting louder and louder in tandem with his racing heartbeat made it hard to believe it. 

He tried to close his eyes, not wanting to see what his mind would come up with to torment him, but he could not. The room would not disappear before him, and he still could not move. 

Terror seized him, and he tried fighting the unshakable pressure pinning him down. The world around him felt like dough, his body limp around it as it was pushed into the mattress. There was a weight on his chest, heavy, unlike anything he had ever experienced before as it crushed him, keeping his lungs trapped. 

Something moved at the edge of his vision. The stomping approached closer and closer. Asirel wanted to scream. He tried, but his mouth did not comply, there was no air in his lungs. The only thing escaping him was a low whimper. The stomping came from right beside his bed.

A figure walked into his line of vision. It vaguely looked like him, but as he stared into its pale face — too pale — he saw blood trickling from its mouth. Its hair was dirty, a dark shade of blonde with specks of deep red in it. Its black eyes stared at him as it approached. 

He had never been as scared as he was now, helplessly trapped in his mind while this shadow version of himself reached out a bloodied hand towards his face. It leaned closer, hovering inches from him. 

“They’re coming to make you pay,” it said, "make you pay. Pay. For all you have done, they’ll make you pay. Pay. Pay. I’ll kill you if you don’t pay. Make you pay. They’re coming. They’re coming! Hide!”

The door flung open. Asirel felt himself resurfacing. The apparition vanished, the banging stopped and he blinked his eyes open. His brain felt numb, slowly awakening with pins and needles as he turned around. He still felt heavy, barely awake as reality slowly clicked back into place.

You stood in the doorway, surveying the room with a stance that told him you were ready to lunge at an attacker. Once you realized the room was empty, your eyebrows furrowed. “I heard your heart beating out of your chest not twenty seconds ago, Asirel. What’s going on?”

The pressure on his chest had lifted, and he let out a deep sigh as he moved a hand — relief flooding when he realized he could — to rest against his forehead. What an experience. Something still felt off, and there was a creeping terror at the edge of his mind that he could not shake. 

“Had,” he cleared his throat, closing his eyes to escape your puzzled expression, “had a— a nightmare, I suppose.” It was not the truth, but he did not feel like explaining sleep paralysis to you. The experience was still too fresh on his mind, and he feared talking about it might make it more real, turning this into a permanent curse. “Thanks for— for waking me.” Thanks for watching out for me.

You stared at him, the trembling in his voice and his still accelerated heartbeat telling you that something had shaken him to his core. “No problem,” you said, approaching him to sit on the edge of the bed. 

Asirel gave you an uncertain look. Hesitatingly, he lifted the edge of the covers. 

You chuckled, slipping in beside him. He snuggled into your arms immediately, resting his head on your shoulder and breathing in your scent. 

It grounded him, having you close. Your strong arms around him made him feel secure like nothing else could, certain that you would protect him. Despite it all, he knew he could trust you — and you knew he did as you heard his heartbeat even out and his breathing deepen. “Do you mind if I—?” he mumbled, eyelids drooping.

“Go ahead. I’ll be here when you wake up,” you said, fastening your hold on him. Asirel drifted off to sleep in your arms, catching a few hours of the most restful sleep he had had in a long time. 

[unironicallytes]

Thoughts on the Wrath of Sithis*, Where It Comes From, and Why Mathieu Bellamont Did Not Receive One (Now Purified!**)

*For the purpose of this discussion, "Wrath" is used to refer specifically to the actual enemy specter/wraith encountered in ESO and Oblivion.

**ifykyk, a lot of this is copy-paste from an old post we no longer speak of nor circulate because it got toxic real quick and we never actually got to discuss the topic itself.

Imo, Sithis does not send the Wrath - it is instead conjured by the Black Hand themselves.

In this idea, the Hand disguises their conjured Wrath as Sithis himself enacting unholy retribution against a Tenet-Breaker - this lends credence to their authority in a way that also absolves them of responsibility for what happens to a member. Sithis works in mysterious ways, my brother! This could also explain the following:

Lucien straight up pardons the HoK for the Purification. That is apparently within his authority to do, yet breaking the Tenets is always said to be a surefire way to invoke the Wrath. You break Tenet Five like 8 whole times within a day, but Lucien has the power to just wave it off for you and carry on business-as-usual. There is something decidedly "mortal institution of laws" about that rather than sacred retribution.

Greywyn lasted for years in hiding without getting auto-Wrathed as punishment for leading an entire coup. A mortal assassin found him and doled out a punishment, not a Wrath of Sithis. This could be because the Hand was unaware he still lived, whereas if the Wrath was Sithis-sent, that dude would've been deleted pretty quick.

No one in the Skyrim DBh is ever sent a Wrath for breaking Tenet One, perhaps because there is no Hand at this time. Cicero is the only one who attempts to punish Astrid for what I presume was breaking a Tenet (large presumption, as we are never outright told). You could argue Astrid got her karmic comeuppance, and perhaps the Wrath was her crispy death, but that can also be explained by her simple hubris. But, like I said, for the purpose of this discussion, we're referring specifically to the physical Wrath here!

(Another new, additional thought) When you finally kill Mathieu at the end of the Oblivion DBh questline, there is no Wrath to come and claim him as in the case of the Black Dragon confrontation. No specter comes to aid you (save for Mother, who's only there to go "lol. lmao even.") This is also potentially because, as in Case #3, there's no longer a Hand to even conjure the Wrath - the only ones left are you and Arquen.

(New, additional thought) The ESO DBh and its traitor, the Black Dragon. The Wrath does appear later to take her ... but notably, it only appears once you have informed your Matron - and subsequently your Hand - who the traitor is and where she is hiding. You have now given the Listener the true identity of the traitor. When they send you and Green-Venom-Tongue to take her out, perhaps they quietly summon a Wrath too - not only as a back-up, but as reaffirmation of its existence to those who witness it.

Venom also remarked the following during your vision of the First Purification: "In the old stories, the Wrath of Sithis appeared to carry away the souls of traitors. If that's true, I wonder why purification was even necessary?"

So then, if it's the Black Hand sending the Wrath, and the Black Hand does not know Mathieu's identity, they cannot send him a Wrath throughout the entire questline. This would be extremely bothersome to them, because his continued activities undermine that faith-leverage they have. If a lower ranking member of the Family finds out that there's a traitor, but that traitor hasn't been punched in the face by a Wrath yet, then that lends itself to the same question we're asking here and the same questions Green-Venom-Tongue started asking. It lends itself to a member going "wait, so an all-knowing death god isn't enforcing these Tenets? so ... as long as no one in the organization finds out, I can break them." And I think Mathieu figured out that this was exactly the case.

Now then, encouragement of participation is always implied on tumblr dot com, but I'm saying it outright due to the history lol - please feel free to add on with your own thoughts! Even if you disagree and have a different idea! The only thing required for participation is respect.

[adaptacy]

Gale has me in a chokehold, I love his nerdy ass. If you're accepting requests, can I request some angst but then fluff with him? It may just be my own insecure self, but what if his fem Tav still felt insecure and not worthy of him after he spoke to Mystra? Like she tries to smile and nod, but she's actually worried he still has feelings for Mystra?

hiii! so i wanted to actually get to this part before writing for it so i could experience full context instead of just watching a yt vid (200 hrs in the game and i *just* got there... albeit it was with durge tav in an evil playthru (one of like 4 playthrus i've started cause i have no self control), but i got there nonetheless) so sorry for taking a while!! but here you go ^^

Word count: 2k

"Back on mortal soil once more," he exhales, eyes slightly narrowed in a tense discomfort. He doesn't meet your eye, and his lips part in a doubtful smile, as if he isn't sure whether he's awake or experiencing some sort of dream. He blinks, and meets your gaze, his smile dimming – you’re not sure if it’s the result of a forced calmness, or a natural relaxation in his muscles. “I can’t believe I saw her– after all this time,” he nearly chuckles the statement out, and you suppress a cringe, desperately scanning his features for reassurance before you allow yourself to grow unreasonably anxious.

But he seems caught in a state of wonder, his eyes bearing an uncommon light in them – perhaps due to the astral scenery he just returned from, or, more likely, it could be an emotional occurrence. Either way, it stings, and you hate the way your stomach churns, hanging onto what feels like a thinning thread. He’s grown closer and closer to rejecting her, every new discovery being one more small, but necessary, push away from his faith, from any lingering feelings of affection for the goddess. 

You couldn’t help but feel as though this was a setback. That, maybe, seeing her again, speaking with her again – maybe it reminded him of a time that you knew he missed. A time that, prior to your relationship with him and a few important facts he’d learned about her, he spoke so incredibly fondly of. He stays quiet, pondering the conversation, and you only feel your fearful anticipation growing more with his silence.

In an effort to break it, you muster up enough courage to speak. “A little intimidating,” you try to chuckle, but it only comes out as a painfully stressed hum, followed shortly by an intense urge to withdraw from the conversation, but you manage to override your anxiety’s desires. 

Gale does manage to chuckle, again, nearly effortlessly – especially compared to your own failed attempt. “Powerful, wasn’t it? Magical, just– entirely magical,” he practically swoons, and you force a smile, tearing your gaze away from him. He continues speaking, and usually you’d be keen on listening to his every word, but you can’t help but tune him out. Even so, you can still hear the excitement in his tone, despite refusing to pick up on the words. 

You’re not sure how long he continues for, though you know it ends, because you feel fingers on your chin, and he angles your head slightly back towards him, forcing your attention back to him. He’s wearing a frown now, and you blink, pulling your head away from his touch. “Sorry. Just – not feeling well.”

“Not feeling well? Damn it, I knew that meat platter was a foul idea. Tavern hardly held a shine, I’m hesitant to believe their appetizers were truly safe for consumption. We should return to camp.” He nods, lowering his hand and offering it to you, and although you feel bad for not disproving his assumptions, you take his hand and go along with the lie, walking back towards your camp. 

It isn’t a very long walk, which is most fortunate; you’re hardly eager to strike up conversation, and had it been any longer of a journey, you’re sure that Gale would question your silence. Eventually, you return, and the area is empty, save for the usual occupants that never really left camp. Everyone else was out either exploring the city, settling down for food, finding entertainment, or bargaining with merchants to pawn off the unnecessary equipment they’d picked up. 

Gale didn’t bother making a request or saying anything before immediately leading you to his tent, directing you to sit on one of the few cushions that littered the blue rug on the floor. You did as he asked, and he looked around the camp, focusing more on the area around Shadowheart’s tent, though his search for her was ultimately fruitless, so instead he knelt before you, the back of his hand pressing against your forehead. “Not particularly warm, certainly not alarmingly so – though I’m no medic, I do believe I’ve enough experience to deem you unafflicted by any fever. What are your symptoms?”

“Symptoms?” You repeat, and Gale squints, clicking his tongue.

“Mental fogginess,” he remarks, and you finally shake your head, looking off to the side.

“I’m not sick,” you confess, knowing that he’s bound to ask questions, but deciding you’d rather be honest than have him worry about your physical well-being. 

“Now, there’s no reason to hide it. I’m sure that even a divine being would have gotten some strand of illness from that – what was it? A space hamster? And a mighty undercooked one, at that. I’m merely glad you’re still conscious,” he teases, leaning forward and holding your chin, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead. 

You pull back, shaking your head once more. “I’m serious. I’m not sick. I just – I don’t know,” you sigh, scooting back and frowning. “It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it? All that stuff with Mystra?”

Gale eases back, reading your expression a second time to ensure you weren’t trying to deceive him. Once he’s sure, he lowers himself fully to his knees, and then grabs another cushion for himself to sit on. He thinks over your words, and ultimately nods. “Indeed. Rather unsettling. To now know that the weave I’ve had inside of me for so long is nothing more – and always has been nothing more – than a mystery to me, it’s… unsettling,” he repeats, bending a knee and placing his elbow on it, his thumb running over the hairs on his jaw. 

“She’s been lying to you,” you murmur, and Gale eyes you, his expression that of some internal conflict. A conflict you fear you may be losing, even if he’d never admit it to you.

“As sadistic as it may appear, she had her reasons. Reasons we may never grasp or understand, but reasons, I’m sure. It’s no matter. Granting my disease a name does little to change said disease – or the expectations that come along with it. If I please her, if I fulfill her request of me, I will be rid of it. Free. At last. Though her actions may seem tyrannical to most, you must understand that it is quite a generous offer she is granting me,” he explains, his head tilting as he watches your reaction, though you’re putting too much effort into disguising your true concerns for him to pick up on them.

“Are you going to give it to her?” You ask, silently pleading for a denial -- for a firm and unwavering ‘No.’

“Of course. I have to,” he chuckles nervously, and whatever hope may have been contained in your expression quickly fades, and you have to break eye contact with him. “My love, this may be my only means of safety. Of securing a future. Should I refuse her, my very life would be on the line. And the miracles that have kept this orb from rupturing thus far – Mystra’s miracles, might I add – I would be left completely without.” He reaches forward, taking a hold of your hands, and you begrudgingly look back at him. “How could I possibly deny the chance at a future with you? I would be a madman.”

His words ease you, even if the effect is incredibly slight. You squeeze his hands, and he squeezes back, his small smile brimming with hope. It’s a pleasant emotion to see him with – one that you haven’t truly seen before. The closest has been eagerness, such as the kind he displayed when you learned of, and eventually obtained, the very book that caused this meeting with his goddess. “What if she forgives you?” You whisper, your insecurity underlining every syllable, and if you weren’t so afraid, your shame would have surely manifested in the color on your cheeks. 

Gale pauses, his eyebrows pushing inward as he processes your words a few times over. “If she forgives me?”

“If she calls on you to be her chosen. If you give her the crown, and she excuses your disputes. I want a future with you too, I do. I just… fear a future haunted by her. I want you, exactly as you are.” You inhale, and it’s shaky, but it’s too late to turn back now. “If she forgives you, will you be at her beck and call?”

He smiles again, but it’s nearly a smile of pity. A smile that instills you with a pinch in your throat, daring you to cry. One of his hands slips out of yours, and for a moment, you believe that this is it – that he’ll confess his plans to return to her side, to embrace his faith once more, to leave you behind at the assurance of greener, holier, pastures. But instead, his hand tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, and then holds the right side of your face, his hold warm and comforting. “Once I am cured, once all of this is over – the only person I wish to be ‘chosen’ by is you. I confess that, had I not met you, the outcome may be different.”

Despite the small, mildly reassured smile on your face, and your leaning into his palm, you still contain some worry for the future. And so, against the understanding that you should know better than to wonder, you ask “Different how?”

He sighs, squeezing your hand again. “Before the tadpoles, before you, before any of this – I had always believed that I’d never be free of her influence. She occupied my mind much like our little larva pilots do now. To control the weave – to channel and embrace the weave is to embrace Mystra. Pieces of her, at least. Though it’s hard to feel a piece of her and not reflect on a time when I could feel all of her. Had I any choice in the matter, I would remove her completely from my life. But I am no man without my past, and even less of one without the magic that I have been so consistently entwined with. And yet, it’s with you that I feel unburdened by her expectations, by her authority and judgment.” Gale leans forward, and you do too, your forehead against his. His eyes close, and yours do as well, merely enjoying the closeness, and the gentleness in his tone, the comfort that his words bring. “With you I forget my goddess. I forget my past, I forget my flaws, I forget my mistakes. I have a purpose now. One beyond being a vessel. One beyond being a subservient lapdog for the will of a deity.”

When you open your eyes, you find Gale’s open as well, and he watches your lips, debating something. You grant him a moment to think, and he decides to act, pulling you a little closer for a chaste kiss, allowing it to linger before he pulls back once more, the curl of his lips more assured now.

“I would suffer at the hands of her fate a thousand times over if it meant finding you again in just one life. You, dearest, are the one who my heart worships. Even if I speak the tongue of the weave or spin her spells, I know what love truly is – unparalleled, earnest, generous love – because of you, and only you. Should Mystra find herself munificent enough to shell out a fragment of forgiveness for me, she will, quite quickly, understand I have no interest in being her compliant plaything anew. If Elminster is a case that instills any flavor of wariness, I do believe I’d be better off without such an expansive lifespan, and… intense enthrallment in cheese,” he chuckles, pulling a laugh from you as well. When that laugh trails off, he cuts it short with a kiss, this one lasting a little longer than the one prior. 

“Just us two, then? After all of this?” You ask when the kiss is broken, and he smirks, shrugging.

“Us two and my Tressym, of course. I promise that she’s much better company than a goddess.”

“Of course. I can certainly live with that."

[violet-moonstone]

About to say something that I'm like 99% sure others have already talked about countless times but I'm thinking about Alicent Hightower again and when that happens, I can't be stopped.

In House of the Dragon, Alicent should have poisoned Viserys. I think Alicent and Rhaenyra should have had a falling out at/after the reunion dinner (or blamed Rhaenyra for how their kids started fighting). They definitely should not have been on the verge of rekindling their friendship at that point in the plot.

Then Alicent should have complained to Viserys about it and Viserys would have then taken Rhaenyra's side, once again restating his intention to make Rhaenyra his heir.

I think it would work well if, during the time Rhaenyra was away on Dragonstone, the issue of inheritance had remained an unspoken and unresolved issue between Alicent and Viserys. Alicent would spend the years getting Aegon ready to be king (or at least trying), hoping that Viserys would eventually see things her way if she raised up Aegon and undermined Rhaenyra enough.

But a resolute statement from Viserys, who is visibly close to death, that when he dies, Rhaenyra is going to replace him, would shatter that, especially if Viserys resolved to make plans to publicly reinforce Rhaenyra's power with more decrees, events, and public works in her name.

So finally, Alicent realizes that playing by the rules and using persuasion is not going to work in her favour. Viserys, while a kind man, is standing in the way of Alicent's ambitions for her children and her beliefs about tradition and "proper" behaviour. (I think the former should grow more important over the years, while the latter is simply a convenient shield to hold on to). More than that, Viserys is one of the rules Alicent no longer wants to follow. She has been dutiful and faithful to him for years, and all for what? So her son, who she believes should be on the throne, is set aside in favour of her rival?

She no longer wants to be tied to a man she didn't want to marry, whose decision limit her actions, and whose choice to marry her played a role in ruining what seems like her only significant friendship (she does not see any of her fractured relationship with Rhaenyra as her fault, because while she may be self-conscious, she is not self-aware).

Alicent listens to Viserys talk about reinforcing Rhaenyra's power and all the things he's going to do to make sure she is the unquestioned heir (things he should have had in place this whole time, but too little, too late) and flinches as he finally puts his foot down and says that he won't have any more of Alicent undermining Rhaenyra.

Alicent has her revelation.

She smiles sweetly and apologizes, promising that she understands and that it won't be a problem anymore. Viserys, somewhat embarrassed by his uncharacteristic assertiveness towards his wife, apologizes too and says they should go to sleep. Everything will be better in the morning. Alicent agrees while she starts preparing his medicine. Everything will be better in the morning.

Because in the morning, Viserys isn't going to wake up.

...

Ok so this only works if Alicent poisons him that night, which I think could be possible if you can die from a milk of the poppy overdose (I'm assuming this is possible, and I vaguely remember reading that milk of the poppy can cause death).

Otherwise, she might just start upping his dose and keeping him away politics -- which seemed to be the case most of the time anyway, except she seemed to be doing it mostly out of concern for him, while the political aspect was secondary. In the meantime, she could speak to Larys about procuring "something to help the King sleep better at night. Perhaps something more...permanent."

...

Reasons I think this should happen:

It would make Alicent's relationship to duty much more interesting. She can make a conscious decision to reject her responsibilities and even her morals for the sake of her family. Whether it's out of political ambition or she genuinely fears for the lives -- I think either is still compelling.

Expanding on the duty point, it would show that her marriage to Viserys is first and foremost a duty, regardless of how fond he was of her. I can see her taking care of him and performing all the responsibilities and tenderness of a caring wife -- because it's what she's supposed to do, not what she actually feels.

It would be a strong turning point in Alicent's character arc where she realizes she is willing to do anything at all to get Aegon on the throne. Whatever is left of the girl we met in episode one should be completely gone. She's a new person now.

It gives Alicent more agency in the usurpation -- which she should have an active role in, considering she's been a primary participant in undermining Rhaenyra and turning her sons against their half sister for years at this point.

Alicent's reaction to murdering her husband would be an interesting revelation for her character. She might have a Lady Macbeth moment where she experiences intense grief and guilt for what she's done, and seeing her push through that for the sake of her family would be amazing. Alternatively, she might find that she feels nothing at all and is only distantly horrified that she killed her husband without feeling anything but a sense of accomplishment. She might cry, not because she's sorry that she murdered him, but because she realizes that she's not sorry, and she doesn't like what that says about her. She could even talk to Larys about it and be even more unsettled to discover that she has more in common with him than she wants. Either way, lot's of potential there.

It's a good way of bringing the ruthlessness of her book counterpart into the show while keeping her previous TV show characterization in tact.

It would make the Dance of the Dragons what it's supposed to be, which is a cruel and bloodthirsty conflict instead of a goddamn comedy of errors that only happens because of hurt feelings and ineptitude.

[elucienweekofficial]

Elucien Fanfic Crossword Answer Key- One Shots

How did you do? It's our hope through this week of puzzles that folks are able to find an existing fanfiction that speaks to them! Consider these a small masterlist filled with recommendations from the community itself. Below you'll find every fanfiction recommended attached to the author who created it, added in the order they were submitted! Fics were also categorized to their best of our ability. Check them out below!

Heading Straight to You by @lucienarcheron

Inspired by a tumblr post I've also linked below: "I need elain to have her anthony bridgerton moment where lucien asks if she wants him to sever the bond and leave & she goes “do you think there’s a corner on this earth that you could travel to far enough to free me from this torment? you are the bane of my existence. and the object of all my desires."

So I decided to give elucien their own bridgerton moment :) Enjoy!

Hot and Clumsy by @witch-and-her-witcher

Feyre had warned him against falling into bed with her sister - but why hadn't she warned Lucien against the greater threat?

Of falling deeply, madly, inconceivably in love with Elain Archeron.

or

Lucien catches feelings bad in the yoga studio.

full moon, white honey by @shardminds

The worn parchment that had once held a recipe lay untouched in her quarters. She no longer needed it. Celandine, White Myrtle, Brain of a Drowner. Crush, Boil with Spirit, Bottle once cooled. Thirteen words seared into her bones. For the Witcher who too often showed her his.

all is for love, is for mind by @shardminds

Lulled by the song of the wind as it called through the valley, Elain watched the clouds form impossible shapes, carried on the same breeze that cooled her heated skin, and asked the only question she had left.

“What does love feel like?”

Letters by @nocasdatsgay

Lucien takes the brunt of Koschei’s curse and using her powers Elain sees the key to saving him is somewhere in the stack of letters he’s sent her over the years.

Hover Corte by. @areyoudreaminof

On her own self-imposed exile, Elain finds herself in the human lands to offer help to the Band of Exiles and try to make some progress with her estranged mate. Lucien, meanwhile, can’t quite find his footing with Elain. With the clock ticking, can they finally come to an understanding?

This Time, I'm Ready by @lucienarcheron

Inspired by Long Story Short by TS. I was listening to it randomly and a scene of Elain started playing out in my head. Recommend listening to it while reading :)

A Heartbreak in Mid-December by @climbthemountain2020

Lucien gets rip-roaring drunk after yet another failure of a Solstice and spends some time reflecting on the events that led him here. He decides that perhaps it's time to let go of the bond once and for all.

OR

ClimbTheMountain2020 couldn't stop picturing Elucien scenarios while listening to Neck Deep.

A Cut Above The Rest by @crazy-ache

“Wait!” Elain clambered to her feet, jumping off the bed. He looked at her expectedly, dagger in one hand and a handful of hair in the other. What was there to say? That she had always secretly adored his hair just the way it was? That he couldn’t possibly cut it before she even had the chance to run her fingers through it? “Let me do it,” she said.

While on the run in the Continent, Elain and Lucien must discuss what has remained unspoken after a frightening incident.

Desperately Waiting by shipatfirstsight

She tries not to think about Lucien

And now good-morrow to our waking souls by zipadeea

“Good morrow to you, little Lucien,” Rhysand crooned as he stepped forth from the shadowy ether, watching Lucien stand slowly and brush the grass from his trousers. “Here to treat with me again regarding my bargain with Feyre darling?”

Lucien took a deep breath, willing the need to punch the smirk off Rhysand’s smug face out of his body.

“No. Well,” Lucien said thoughtfully. “Yes. I suppose. I want you to keep her. Don’t bring Feyre back at the end of the week. Keep her in the Night Court.”

***

Lucien tries to save the three Archeron sisters. He fails.

Cinnamon and Honey by @velidewrites

Lucien has long given up on his crush on Elain Archeron — until she drops by his flower shop to return a bouquet from her now ex-boyfriend.

I Can't Help Myself From Looking At You by @tuzna-pesma-snova

Years have passed since Elain had last seen Lucien and since she had broken the bond. But once all High Lords get invited to Nyx's 18th birthday party their encounter is inevitable. Will this encounter change everything or not?

Rita's Shenanigans by @vulpes-fennec

Hoping to break the ice with her mate, Elain enlists her family’s help in setting up a night out at Rita’s. A post-ACOSF, Modern AU (with Fae lore).

Troublesome Child by NovaComette

Rhysand and Feyre left for the day and it's up to Elain and Lucien to take care of Nyx. And what hell of a day they'll have to deal with.

Help! I'm Fainting by @sunshinebingo

“I need a healer,” Elain loudly exclaimed. “What!?” Lucien pulled his chair back in a panicked state. Was she sick? What was – Elain reached him before he could stand and oh so gently dropped herself on his lap with a breathless, “Help! I’m fainting.”

...

When his mate barged into his office claiming to be sick, Lucien had to find out what she had and how to take care of her.

bet on me by @crazy-ache

Elain is caught sulking at her sister's mating ceremony. Lucien wagers a drinking game to prove who knows the other best.

“Go on. Tell me all about myself, Lucien Vanserra.”

And there is the matter of something charged sitting between them at the table. He was challenging her. An invitation for friction, a consideration to be included in the joke, a bid to entwine in something deliciously improper. Elain could not remember the last time anyone had offered her anything remotely tantalizing.

Inspiration by @lucienarcheron

Prompt: Modern AU | Aspiring writer Elain Archeron is looking for some inspiration for her new novel when she happens to meet the perfect man for the job.

Forget Me Not by @lucienarcheron

Drunk Elain and her shenanigans.

in eternal bloom by @crazy-ache

On the quest to find the sixth mortal queen, Lucien Vanserra meets a human with brown eyes and that same stubborn Archeron nose. Together, on their search for Vassa, Lucien befriends Elain’s father, and learns a bit more about his mate.

I Like You by @fieldofdaisiies

Elain decides that she is ready to make a move towards Lucien. And yes, it is a bit sad.

Speak Now by @separatist-apologist

I am not the kind of girl who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occasion. But you are not the kind of boy who should be marrying the wrong girl

put your lips close to mine (as long as they don't touch) by @belabellissima

But in the end, it didn’t matter what Elain did to protect the puzzle - three pieces had been missing right from the start. They would never fall into place. Elain felt like that puzzle every time she saw Lucien, every time Feyre brought up his name, tried to push Elain into accepting him. She could see the image, see the outcome in her mind - the perfect life, the love, the children, the years together - but she wasn’t whole. She was lacking those pieces - the one thing that would make her the full image of a perfect, doting wife.

Or: The author saying ace!Elain rights.

Metamorphosis by @starry-mantle

How a butterfly and some reference books lead Elain to reconsider the mate she's been trying so hard to ignore.

A Feeling So Peculiar by @rarephloxes

As Elain struggles to embrace her new body after being drowned in the Cauldron for political purposes she has never been privy to, she undertakes the gruesome journey to dissociate herself from whomever she has ever been or could ever become, Elain feels ready to do what it takes to quiet her mind and dull her senses. In her haste and need to flee while staying inside, she finds herself drawn to knowledge that will change the course of her destiny.

-

Or: The Healer!Elain fic

curses and gifts by @crazy-ache

In which Elain is cursed to live that fateful day with the Cauldron again and again and again. Until a choice is made.

lost in your current (like a priceless wine) by @withclawandvine

On Elain’s birthday Lucien sends her a gift. She decides she’s going to put an end to these unwanted, unreciprocated presents once and for all. Instead, something begins.

Sunshine and Reunions by @shallyne

This Oneshot plays in the same Universe as Sunshine and Promises BUT you can read it seperately

Elain is sick and Lucien visits her

[elyssialumengard]

Hazbin Hotel theory ( centered on Alastor ) :

Hello (or good evening), I am writing this post to share with you a simple but interesting theory regarding Alastor. This theory is not from me, but from a French YouTuber (whom I invite you to go see if you speak French) called: Team Taika Raven (name of the video: Character analysis: Alastor, a Devil of Hotel Manager).

At the end of his video, he states the following theory :

Alastor would have made two contracts (not necessarily for his soul). In the last song of episode 8, Alastor shows that he aims higher than Overlord status, he wants to rule all of Hell. But this will only be possible once his wings are freed, once his contract is broken (Alastor inspires power, chaos and freedom).

If indeed Alastor made a pact with Rou for power, then why would he want to break it ? He would lose everything he has acquired, that wouldn't work. Additionally, Rou, the root of evil, and likely the series' main antagonist, is a purely chaotic entity. She succeeds in infiltrating the earthly world when Lucifer gives the apple to Eve. All she wants is to spread as much chaos around her as possible, just like Alastor. The YouTuber later said that it wouldn't be surprising if she didn't ask Alastor for anything in return for the power gain since the latter was accomplishing her will just by being himself. Alastor would in some way be Rou's agent, the manifestation of her spirit in the world of the Underworld. The fact that Alastor is his shadow independent of his body could be a sign of another entity in him, that of Rou, symbolized by his powers. The YouTuber continues by saying that it would even be possible that Alastor made this pact during his lifetime, before his arrival in the underworld through voodoo rituals (which would explain why he had so many powers upon his arrival in the underworld although he was a human before). Therefore, it would seem odd that he would want to get out of the contract with Rou, knowing that he loves what he does. Moreover, why would he suddenly decide to want to break this pact suddenly, like that with Rou after having disappeared for 7 years ?

The YouTuber follows his theory by saying that Alastor, known and feared in the underworld for his power, seems to have lost his abilities, as the Vees mention in their song saying that he does not seem as powerful as before. When he returned, rumors spread that Alastor was a shadow of his former self. This could be explained by the fact that the genocide that Alastor was causing had attracted the attention of Lilith, causing her to enter into a forced contract restricting her powers.

That 7 years ago, Alastor and Lilith fought and that Alastor's defeat forced him to make a pact with Lilith not to die. Lilith would have done this to protect her people, but surely because of her commitment to Adam in Paradise, the commitment being that of preventing the souls of sinners from being saved so that they would not come to Paradise leaving the extermination to be carried out. If Alastor started killing every threatening person in the underworld, the purge would no longer make sense. Seeing the real threat of Alastor's abnormal powers, she decided to seal part of his powers and flee to Paradise, preventing him from following her. Thus, Alastor has every interest in Charlie's project working so that he can access Heaven and find Lilith to break his contract. The fact of having made a deal with Charlie, in exchange for a favor, would be a means of putting pressure on Lilith to break her contract with him.

What would Adam gain by welcoming Lilith? Glory, because being a person full of himself, Adam wanted to become more powerful and known than the seraphim as we can see subtly in his song where he has 8 wings and not 6.

The YouTuber ends up saying that the name "Alastor" means "the spirit of vengeance" in ancient Greek, sticking even more with the idea that he is just a tool, an incarnation of someone's revenge.

Perhaps Eve who would be under the control of Rou, being the character most likely to want revenge, considered just the stopgap for Adam who had not digested his rake with Lilith. It condemned humanity to suffering and mortality thereby depriving Adam of the throne which was due to it. Her stay on Earth must have been the most horrible where Adam had to make her pay for every day of her existence because of her betrayal. Lilith and Lucifer are also responsible for his misfortune, because they are the ones who gave him the apple. Fueled by hatred and resentment, Eve is possibly the one who most wants revenge on both hell and paradise, a receptacle of choice for Rou.

What do I think of it :

I find this analysis highlights several intriguing elements of the story and character motivations, particularly Alastor and his potential connection to Rou, as well as the implications of his past and present actions.

The connection between Alastor and Rou as an agent of chaos and fulfillment of Rou's will is a fascinating idea. This theory suggests that the pact between Alastor and Rou could have been established well before the events of the series, perhaps even during his lifetime, which would explain his powers upon his arrival in Hell. Additionally, the idea that Lilith restricted Alastor's powers due to his potential threat to the balance of the underworld and her own pact with Adam is also an interesting interpretation.

Furthermore, regarding Lilith and the extermination of sinners, I think she grants it to protect her people who are the real demons and not the sinners, which would explain why she allows such carnage while she is portrayed in the series as a queen who loves her subjects. Sinners being only the beings who are supposed to be the worst of humanity, harming demons for the most part. ( and for the romance, so that Lucifer is less confronted with the spectacle of sinners which he does not appreciate at first from the serie. )

This would explain his interest in the hotel and why he was so hostile towards Lucifer, not wanting the two to get close, wanting to take advantage of Charlie's slightest vulnerability as much as possible, making him believe that he is on his side ( that's why he went to see her when she wasn't comfortable in bed in episode 7, manipulating her into finally agreeing to make a deal). Alastor is a greedy and manipulative being, if he went to see Rosie to help him, it was certainly to save the hotel, but to show Charlie that she can trust him, since he manages the situation to save his project.

Finally, the idea that Eve could be an instrument of vengeance controlled by Rou, due to her grievances against the Underworld and Heaven, brings another layer of depth to the plot. This raises questions about the nature of power and manipulation in the world of “Hazbin Hotel,” as well as the motivations and desires of each character.

Overall, this theory offers a fascinating perspective on the characters and plot of the series, and it raises many interesting questions about the relationships between the various characters and the forces that manipulate them.

The YouTuber puts forward other interesting theories, don't hesitate to watch his video.

[daily-eah-headcannons]

Yes I can! @karmaajr

Angst time baby because if you didn't know I study both Alice in Wonderland and Through The Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There.

Maddie's bff is actually Time, sure her dad and him aren't the closest but Time absolutely adores her.

Time wanted to make sure that Maddie knew he was looking out for her when she had to evacuate Wonderland, as such he gave her the power to see into the future.

For the first week when Maddie came to Ever After she would only look at clocks with a blank expression. No-one knows what she was thinking...maybe she was thinking about Harett and Time, maybe she was thinking about Lily, perhaps Bunny and her family, maybe all at once.

She likes to say she doesn't cry and that's because she doesn't. She will just show up to Mad Hatters Tea Shoppe and Haberdashery and cling to him in silence.

When the Wonderland Curse happened it added or took away things, it also warped their biology and Maddie wasn't different. She used to be able to change her hair, change her clothes, change her body however she'd like without trouble but when the curse hit, suddenly what made her special was taken away. It took her months to figure out what happened and even longer to accept it.

Her mom is Alice.

her and Alistair are twins with her being older by 6 minutes. Before the curse they could change their appearances to look exactly like identical twins, they could change to look like either one of their parents, Maddie could be the next Alice and Alistair could be the next Mad Hatter for all they care. When the curse hit it took that away from them.

Maddie will sometimes wish to be Alice. The only ones who fully understand it is the Wonderlandians and the Hood/Badwolf family.

Alice wasn't killed, Wonderland protected her in its Forrest but she did forget who she was...all she could remember was that she loved someone with a top hat and loved a Xylophone as well as a riddle.

When the curse was lifted everything was reversed except those who died.

However it wasn't until Alice saw her twins and her husband that her memory came back to her.

Both Maddie and Alistair have a "Mad" name and a "Sane" name.

Maddie's sane name is of course Madeline while Alistairs mad name is Allie.

Badwolf helped alot with her seeing as she was born less than a hour apart from Cerise.

Maddie has a stuffed hare that she would cuddle up to, and look, if she cried Kitty wouldn't tell.

This is Harett.

Her and Harett were the closest of friends when she left but when she came back they started to date (look, all of my Wonderland ships are weird, I got Lizzie shipped with a backgrounder from Monster High, this is a tame one.)

Harett and her are notorious for matching.

During the Wonderland Curse Harett went beyond mad, he would do nothing but sit at the tea-table, speak riddlish so insane that no one could understand him. He would rapidly twitch and he would talk to the symbols of the characters, radios surrounded the table and he would drink fake tea. Others had to actually give him real tea but tea was hard to come by.

When the curse was lifted him and Maddie became even more inseparable. He has snuck into her dorm several times just to have tea and a cuddle.

Mad Hatter and the March Hare are bffs so they are actually happy for them.

Now that the curse has lifted Maddie's biology is back to normal.

When she gets angry her hair becomes black and red and get fluffier, her eyes change and she generally looks terrifying.

She now had severe abandonment issues and will randomly cling to others.

She's technically a princess since her mom is a queen but she doesn't like showing it off.

Alice is queen of the woods in Wonderland.

Since Maddie is both a Looking-Glass character and a Wonderland character she is free to roam wherever she pleases in that world.

After the curse was lifted all Wonderlandians were allowed one month off from Ever After. Headmaster Milton Grimm originally disagreed to it. Giles Grimm overruled his disagreement.

Most of the time was spent just holding her mom.

She shares her height with her mom.

She also shares her fashion sense with her.

Alice escaped Ever After after realizing she'd never be happy with a man who belives a woman is second place to him. She ended up running away in her wedding dress, down the rabbit hole and into Mad Hatters arms.

It's also why Allistars last name is Wonderland because Alice changed her last name.

Alice shared a dorm with The Queen of Hearts and due to how she was raised she was extremely shy and nervous. She made friends with Badwolf and Mad Hatter who slowly got her to open up and be less shy....that's when they realise she was illiterate due to her harsh upbringing.

Mad Hatter made her Tea Cakes as a gift. Those things would be at their first date, their wedding and became a symbol of their love.

When Mad Hatter escaped with the other Wonderlandians he still made tea cakes but he couldn't eat them without crying just wishing to share them with his Alice.

Mad Hatter tried not to cry in front of the others, he tried his best and will goto his room if he absolutely has to cry.

Maddie knows he does it too. And on those nights Maddie just so happens to have a nightmare and needs her dad.

Maddie is extremely observant. She sees how Professor Card won't stop painting the Ace of Diamonds, she's seen Scottie and Scottdum look at their backsides wishing for their tails back, how Professor Knight holds onto a old Red Knight chess piece when he is talking about damsels, how Her Majesty The White Queen will mumble Lily's name. She's seen how Lizzie will talk to a card deck like her parents and brothers are still there. She especially sees how Kitty looks at Callico knowing he's not hers. She's heard her father accidentally say Alice's name when he refers to the group forgetting for a second shes not there.

She has seen Badwolf look at her like there's supposed to be two but forgetting there is only one.

When Alistair came to Ever After his dorm became a place where all the Wonderlandians hanged out since Sparrow doesnt use his side. They even had Professor Card come over.

Maddie doesn't resent Raven because she understands it wasn't her that put the curse on Wonderland, especially when Raven fixed it. However there is just a small piece that wishes Raven would understand just how bad it effected everyone in Wonderland especially when they had to burry Lizzies 8 brothers. Especially when you can see the ptsd in Bunny and Allstars eyes. Especially when Maddie flenches when Raven speaks about her mother.

Since Alice didn't learn to read or write till she was 14 she made sure her kids learned both of those skills both in Riddlish and in English as well as several other languages like Morse-Code, Pig Latin, Flag Language that Mad Hatter made, Spanish, French, and a few more. She didn't want them to suffer the way she did.

Alice made sure that no matter what gender they decided to be that they shouldn't be bound by gender-roles and expectations.

In turn it's not uncommon for Maddie to wear "guy clothes"

On a good note: Wonderland is alive and does sometimes play pranks on her.

Source: THESE ARE ALL BASED OFF OF SOME SORT OF CANNON! WOOOOO. Also I love talking about Wonderlandians I have so many headcannons

[vivilove-jonsa]

The Stranger's Bride

For Day 2 of the Jonsa Halloween Event: The Stranger - Pumpkin - Full Moon

(This is just a little something because I'm tired of outlining the next book tonight and the spooky season brought this to mind❤️)

It's nearly nightfall.  Sansa wishes they hadn’t waited so late for the ceremony.  The moon hides behind the clouds like a child playing peek-a-boo, eager to spoil her surprise.  She breathes in deeply and checks her reflection one last time.  A picture-perfect bride with auburn hair and a fragile, haunted beauty stares back.  He will be eager to bed her once the feast is over and the Wolf will be eager to feast in turn.  She’s been dutiful all her life but, tonight, duty dies. 

The music swells as the massive doors of the sept open.  All guests turn to watch her coming down the aisle in her ivory and grey cloak, embroidered with the direwolf, the symbol of the Stark Family.  Every man in her family has the beast tattooed over his heart from the age of sixteen when he swears the oath.  So silly.  As if a tattoo makes a man into a fearsome beast.  What does her groom have tattooed over his heart?  A dragon?  Perhaps so though she knows he is the son of her long-dead aunt.  

Outwardly, this looks like a happy occasion but the bride knows better.  The men are all armed and ready to spill blood at a moment’s notice should something go awry.  And, the women present either look at her with pity (if they have sense) or envy (if they have none.)  One thing is agreed though - they all think she’ll be lucky to survive one year as his wife.  

Sansa ignores the stares, holding her head high as she walks with measured grace, letting her blue eyes sweep over the images of the gods above the altar.  She could relate to the Maiden’s plight or seek the Mother’s comfort or Crone’s wisdom today.  

But there stands the Stranger.  

How fitting when she is to wed a stranger today, the ruthless new underworld boss of the South, Jon Targaryen.  They say he is a cold-blooded killer. It's rumored he can't be killed. Nonsense. All men die.

When she dares look at him, his dark eyes burn with fire, reminding her that his family’s favorite method for eliminating their enemies is burning them alive.  Gruesome but effective.  The Starks prefer the old ways.    

“He will never harm you,” Father had said when he’d told her of the arrangement he had made with the now-deceased Rhaegar Targaryen.

“There is little you can do about it if he does.”  Father knows it to be true even if he prefers to pretend otherwise.  She’ll be his wife and under his power. At least, that’s what they all think.  

“A marriage between our houses will bring peace.  It’s better for business.”

Business.  That is the name of the game when you’re born into the mob.  Arranged marriages are still popular in their world, a way to broker peace.  The Northern Families had needed peace badly enough for her father to barter his oldest daughter away.  

Through stained glass, the moon winks at her from behind the clouds and that familiar, savage hunger unfurls.  Not yet, not yet.  She clutches her tummy, hoping to mask it as maidenly nerves.  

Father grips her hand a little tighter, the tiniest sign he’s not the emotionless ice man everyone believes him to be.  Is it a desire to comfort her that prompts him to do it?  A warning to her not to run?  Or fear of what may happen this night?

The endless walk to her groom is over before she knows it and her father's protection ends. It's fine. She can protect herself. 

The septon starts to speak and the rustling behind them tells her the guests are taking their seats.  What a show they may have if those clouds can’t contain the moon a little longer.   

But a cold, scarred hand slips into hers, drawing her from her murderous thoughts.  The darkness of his eyes is not as profound up close.  The grey reminds her more of her father’s with flecks of lilac visible in the candlelight.  

His lips twist into a wry but undeniably fetching grin.  She would prefer if he’d been plainer.  No other appetites would be raised if that were so. 

“Good evening, wife.”  They are the first words he has ever spoken to her. They feel like a caress meant to calm.

“Good evening,” she murmurs in reply.  She is well known for her courtesy after all.  He is handsome. Perhaps she will let him bed her before she allows the wolf to-

“You smell…”  He lets the words hang and she wonders if he means to insult her here at the altar as they are being wed.  Her eyes snap to his and those mesmerizing eyes have changed again back to something dark and unfathomable when he finally finishes the sentence.  “Delicious.”  

And, it’s then that she hears it in his voice, that rumbling growl his civil mask can’t contain as the moon emerges from the clouds.  She knows that sound like her own heartbeat. His thumb sweeps across her wrist, setting her pulse to pounding and drawing an answering growl from her own throat.  How curious.  

"You smell... dangerous," she says, testing.

He smiles, showing her his sharp teeth. Oh. Her groom is a stranger to her but they share an unexpected kinship. 

Old Nan had always said she would recognize another with the dark gift without ever uttering a sound.  She was right.  What an interesting discovery to make on one's wedding day. She can't wait for the wedding night.

[bright-side20]

Elain Archeron 🌸

“No one ever does. No one ever looked—not really.” A bramble of words. Her voice strained to a whisper. “He did. He saw me. He will not now.” Her thumb brushed the iron ring on her finger.

I always come back to when Elain said this. I really think it reveals a lot about her character and how she suffered growing up as a people pleaser and a marriage project for her family. Mama Archeron completely shut down her personality, molding her into someone pleasant to look at and making her behave as society would expect a noble's daughter to be. And, for once, when she thought someone saw her for who she truly is and loved her for it, he turned out to be just like the others...

That's why her story is not about running from her family. It's about choice, and she has already made it clear. She expressed her desire to do something great with the power the cauldron gifted her, stating that she sees herself as a part of the Night Court. This was an important character development, showing that she will no longer act based on others' expectations; she will be true to herself.

" I wonder if everyone has spent so long assuming Elain is sweet and innocent that she felt she had to be that way or else she'd disappoint you all"... "With time and safety, perhaps we'll see a different side of her emerge"

I believe it also explains her love interest situation. She fell for Az because he truly saw her; he was the one who spent time with her in the garden, listened to her, and figured out she was a seer. He helped her through her trauma when everyone assumed she was going mad, and something was wrong with her. He risked his life to save her and even placed his most precious dagger in her hand. As for him, he fell for her because she saw him for who he is. She saw one of his biggest insecurities and called it beautiful.With her, he could remove his spymaster mask,with her he can be just Azriel, the gentle, caring male. Their relationship goes beyond mere lust, as antis like to label it. The sexual tension between them was a confirmation of them being end game , and Az, the 500 years old fae, questioning the CAULDRON speaks volumes. He certainly won't give up on her just because Rhys told him to do so.

I also believe it explains the foreshadowing of the bond rejection. The girl who grew up under social pressure to be a valuable asset in the marriage market will stand against a highly valued and sacred bond in fae society. She will choose Azriel, the one she fell for, because love would trump even a mating bond.

[dreamerwithoutadirection]

Look What You Made Me Do

Min Yoongi was not a man to play, what he desired, he got.

Warning: Yandere, Possessive, Manipulation

P.S: Took longer than expected :( Hope you all like it! Please ignore the typos, I have not proof-read.

“It has been decided that you will get married to Lord Min, at the end of month.” Lord Yoo said to his eldest daughter. 

This was bad, so so bad. Hana was shocked, surprised, scared and worried all at once. 

“I..I..” she stuttered too overwhelmed to speak..

Lord Yoo sighed, he loved his daughter…he knew she wanted to travel and learn. She always had a flair for languages. But he was on the verge of bankruptcy…and his recent losing of his position of Ministry of Defence has already added to his guilt and burden. But what could he do? He needed money and position for his younger daughters and Taxation Minister Lord Min’s offer of money and position in his ministry in exchange of wedding with Hana would change the future of him and his family.  

With hard eyes and heart, Lord Yoo spoke in a firm and final voice, “As the head of this house, I have decided that you are getting married. And that’s final. You are lucky that Lord Min even wants to do something with us after the recent debacle with the King.”

Hana had seen Lord Min before. His cat like eyes with the deep mark across had left her scared when she had first seen him. 

*-------*--------*

Min Yoongi was a man of few words with a mind as sharp as a sword. But perhaps his greatest virtue was patience. And patient was he. It had been an year since he had first seen her in a banquet party held by the King. Mingling among her friends, somehow, she had stood out when their eyes met. She looked scared back then. As if she had just seen a devil. And unknown to her, she had sold her soul as well. 

For an year after the party, he was haunted by her beautiful brown eyes. And tormented by the question of who was she? So, he looked for her. It wasn’t easy as women seldom left the house. So, when the king organised the party once again, Yoongi knew his chance was here. It didn’t take long to know that she was Defence Minister Yoo’s daughter. Power and money can do wonders to know enough about someone. 

“You are really in love with her, hyung?” Yoongi heard Hoseok while sitting with his group of close friends of years. Love? The word felt too measly for what Yoongi was experiencing right now. 

“Maybe..I feel curious definitely” 

“So, you are saying if I went now and talked to her, you wouldn’t mind?” 

Yoongi was on Namjoon in a second, “Don’t try me”, he grunted. 

Seokjin sighed, these kids cannot not fight…even after gaining respectable positions! “Separate at once! You both are now adults and we are in presence of the King, keep your tantrums in check.”

Yoongi glared at Namjoon before returning to his seat. “What I feel about her is not anyone’s concern.”

“But hyung, if you are in love with the lady, that would be so cool! You know her dad is really corrupt…wouldn’t be a problem in taking that old fool down.”

“Hmmm…interesting suggesting Kookie”

Taehyung ruffled Jungkook’s hair to tease him. “Hyaa…I am 24 now, don’t call me that! I have a reputation to maintain!” Jungkook whined. 

“You know, Yoongi, if it’s what I believe it is..I think you need to act fast,” muttered Seokjin. 

“What do you mean, hyung?” frowned Namjoon.

“He’s looking for a match for Lady Hana I have heard..and from what I see..you are just as smitten with her as I am with my wife….if he resists too much…there’s nothing that I cannot manipulate for him to fall in your lap. After all it wouldn’t be hard to pin the recent missing of treasure on him in my investigation.”

   *-------*--------*

“Lord Yoo, how are you?”

“Oh..Lord Min..it’s the same old story of being overburdened with work. Parties like these do give us respite ain’t it?” 

“Hmm..” Yoongi gruffed, eyes searching his bambi. “I heard you are looking for a groom for your eldest daughter.”

“I am indeed, but for my second daughter, Mi-joo, who is of age now…” Lord Yoo said fondly. 

“Lord Yoo, what about your eldest..what’s her name..yes Hana..she’s 22 right now isn’t she? A bit late for marriage?”

“She’s not ready for marriage yet..Min Yoongi” Lord Yoo spoke harshly. 

“Hmm..you know I thought this will be a civil conversation. But I suppose you don’t do civil” Yoongi laughed and then his eyes turned more feline if possible “I will make this clear to you. I like your daughter Hana, and I will be coming to your house this week with my parents with a marriage proposal and you old man are going to say fucking yes.”  

Lord Yoo got up suddenly, spilling the drink on the table and said, “Why would I want a man like you for my beloved daughter? With that scar so big, I doubt, you will find anyone. Don’t test me young man. I can destroy you in second.” 

Poor Lord Yoo did not know what was about to come for him. A fortnight later, he got summoned by the King over the charges of stealing from the national treasures.

Yoongi smirked standing in the King’s court seeing his hyung alledge false charges on Lord Yoo..caught you. I am coming for you, jagi..we’ll be together..soon.

 *-------*--------*

Hana had to talk to Lord Min and convince him otherwise! She cannot marry him..not when he scared the soul out of her. She had felt his eyes all night on her a fortnight ago. And it made her feel sick to the stomach. She knew in her gut he was not a good man..a pretty sight with a devil’s soul. 

And so Hana did, what she does best..she escaped her house and went to find Min Yoongi. It wasn’t difficult to find him..as if he was waiting for her to come out of her den. As she walked in the sombre room at the courtesans place, she saw him sitting with a drink in hand. Looking all so powerful, magnificent and a sinister smile decorating his face. 

“Hana, jagiya...welcome..I was expecting you. After all, you always had a fighting spirit..and you know I love that about you. Always standing up for yourself.”

Jagi? Why was he calling her jagi! He didn’t even know her! “Lord Min..I..have come to talk to your regarding the marriage proposal you have sent.”

“Yes, sure, my love! Don’t worry..our marriage will be an event to behold. I cannot wait to see you dressed for me..prettily..you’ll be finally by my side..like you have always meant to be. But before that come sit, near me..why are you standing so far.”

Hana pressed herself against the door more, if possible. She did not want to go anywhere near him. He was too dangerous. 

“Lord Min. I have come to inform you that I cannot marry you. Please find someone else for your affections, for I don’t return them.”

Yoongi sighed. This will not go as smoothly as he hoped. 

Just as Hana was opening the door to go, she felt herself being turned around. Her back hit the wall harshly, as she looked up to see Lord Min too close to her. He looked so much more terrifying…eyeing her up..with emotions she could not understand. But whatever it was, it was not love..his eyes did not hold love but something dark and vile.

“I was trying to be patient love, but you don’t like patience it seems. So, let me reiterate to you..you..”, he cupped her face..“were mine..since the day I saw you” and then Hana felt his lips on her..all at once everywhere “mine..mine…mine”

Yoongi rasped, “If you don’t want your old man to be dead..be a doll..love and start preparing for our marriage..if you dare go against me..you know your sisters also have to get married, right?”

Hana felt herself crashing down..with Lord Min’s head buried in her neck..kissing her..marking her neck for the world to see. There’s no escaping, is it?