#don't get him started on moulin rouge

[slashingdisneypasta]

Erik Destler x Fem!StageActress!Reader || Would Include...

Erik Destler always learning your on-stage romantic interests part totally and then 'dispatching' of the poor guy just before he's meant to go on so he then can always taking his place would include...

Warnings: Contemporary musical references, I don't care, shoot me. Also just basic Erik creepiness; murder and not-super-consensual kissing/touches (dub con at most).

Tagging: @marinerainbow and @masqueradeball .

🥀 Erik falling for you almost the moment you entered the Palais Garnier for the first time. He has no chill, we know this. He's like a Disney Princess. One song and he's fallen hopelessly in love.

🥀 Erik always keeping an eye on the cast lists when they come out- checking who you are and if you have a romantic interest. If you do, that person is now his main target. He may not kill them immediately, he'll wait until the final show on the final night, but there is a big red bullseye on their back now.

🥀 Erik practising 'his' lines (The lines of your on-stage romance) in his sewer room, reciting them to a dummy wearing some... familiar clothing. What? No, he didn't sneak into your chambers in the middle of the night and steal them from you! No, no! Absolutely not!... though you are missing a dress exactly like the one the doll is wearing. *cough*

🥀 Erik treating that doll of you with the utmost care. Almost as much as he'd treat you, the real you, with (Or, how he'd like to treat you. Only the lord knows if Erik could actually be gentle if given the chance to hold you). Its really creepy. Imagine his fingertips only grazing the dolls cheek very gently, but his eyes drift downwards (even though, again, its JUST A DOLL- ITS JUST STUFFING, ERIK!- Y O U ' R E T H E O N E W H O S T U F F E D I T- ) with very desire-filled eyes. Imagine him on one knee before the doll, holding its hand in his, its dead-eyes staring off into space while he professes deep speeches about love that are supposed to be romantic but just come out wrong and infatuated off Erik's tongue. Imagine Erik's hand wandering in the middle of a particularly heated scene; completely lost to his imagination.

🥀 Erik n e v e r, ever stealing the part of a villain. Even if that villain gets much more heated, or charged scenes with you then your actual love interest (Duke Monroth, Professor Callahan, Judge Turpin, Scar, etc). He wants to be your hero. Your prince, your true love.

🥀 Erik watching your every show, in his special box 5, studying you with eyes so hot you swear you can feel them on your skin every night. Paying so close attention, so he knows exactly how to compliment you on stage; how to be your perfect stage partner. This is why your scenes in every last show at the Palais Garnier are so impossibly electrifying to the audience- and, to you.

🥀 Erik allowing your casted partner to appear in the first few scenes with you during that last performance on that last night, so you never really know when its going to stop being the one guy and start being Erik- you're on your toes. Waiting the whole performance for the hand you grab onto to be Erik's. (He's waiting for the perfect moment to step in. The moment when you're really, really in character; lost to your art.)

🥀 Erik being the Christian to your Satine during 'El Tango De Roxanne' (His eyes upon your face. His hand upon your hand. His lips caress your skin. It's more than I can stand), 'Crazy Rolling' (See how I leave with every piece of you. Don't underestimate the things I will do), and 'Your Song Reprise' (Look at me... Satine... Why else live, if not for love?) in Moulin Rouge.

🥀 Erik being the Fiyero to your Elphaba during that super fucking charged 'As Long As You're Mine' scene in Wicked. You know? With you both on your knees on the stage surrounded by dramatic mist and you cant keep your hands off eachother?? *cough cough* I mean, with you both on your knees on the stage surrounded by dramatic mist and Fiyero and Elphaba cant keep their hands off eachother??? XD (Kiss me too fiercely, Hold me too tight; I need help believing, You're with me tonight, My wildest dreamings, Could not foresee, Lying beside you, With you wanting me // Every moment, As long as you're mine, I'll wake up my body, And make up for lost time.)

🥀 Erik being the Prince to your Sleeping Beauty, Snow White during the True Love's Kiss Scene. Oh yes, he definitely goes there. Did you doubt it?

🥀 Erik AS THE BEAST IN 'EVERMORE' TO YOUR BELLE IN BEAUTY AND THE BEAST!!!?

🥀 Erik never appearing at the end of the production to bow- he cant. You know that. So he makes his last moments on stage with you last, because honestly- who knows when the next time will be?? Its not like he can come call on you like a normal person... 🙄he's a dramatic freak. He holds your hand a few moments longer then necessary, or a little tighter. He kisses you one more time even though its not scripted.

🥀 Erik leaving you a bouquet of flowers in your dressing room after that last show on that last night. Signed simply, ceaselessly yours.

~

🥀 You tell yourself every time that the show must go on. You tell yourself, that thats why you don't stop it; Don't do anything.

🥀 You are lying to yourself. You cant deny the electricity crackling all over your skin every time you see Erik on stage with you, every time Erik touches you under fake pretences. You've never felt quite the same on stage then when he's there with you; you feel like you're really the characters... and there is nothing on earth like that feeling. No one else can give you this. No one but him.

🥀 You expect it now and anxiously await the moment when your practise partner (Just Erik's understudy. Thats what you're thinking of them now; the men who are actually cast) dematerialises from the stage and its Erik.

🥀 You always leave the flowers from Erik at the grave of the man who died. Its sick, the game (?? habit?? r e l a t i o n s h i p??) you're in, but you cant stop. And you cant apologise, so you can only do this.

🥀 You working extra hard to get lead roles at the Palais Garnier. As soon as one show is over, you have a hunger to do it again. Get another part, get Erik back on that stage with you.

Its like an addiction.

[petrova121]

leave all your worries at door…please and thank you!

"Don't trust a lion"

-lately I have been obsessed with moulin rouge and cabaret so here you guys go.

-Part 1 -Part 2

°:. *₊ ° . ° .•

Song- I put a spell on you by Nina Simone

warnings- threats, death, blood, fighting, fluff, smut (it will be in later chapters)

enemies to lovers

≈☆≈

Klaus needs help getting a witch on his side for Wolfsbane, which is running low. The best idea coming to mind is bringing along Elijah as ... a form of reinforcement. but things always take their turns 

★・・・・・・★

New Orleans is known for its wide variety of performances and shows and for its interesting people, to say the least. On the small side of town, one building lit up, the lights blinding if you stared too long. The two men walked strides with purpose until they reached the entrance. Posters were all over the walls of all the shows that had been performed and it was messy, maybe a bit unclassic for Elijah's taste. The unpleasant look on his face spoke volumes looking at each poster. 

“Are you sure you will..find what you need from here?” Elijah said coolly looking at the sign above “Le solitaire” What a fitting name. “Oh trust me we will and we’ll get a show while we're at it,” Klaus said smirking opening the door to what was a dimly lit room. The walls were painted dark red and blue. The smell was in between a disgusting odor of cigarettes, alcohol, and sweat. Then a smell of a sweet almost vanilla-like perfume clouded the air. It was packed, to say the least, and a lot of what seemed to be a mix of humans and vampires. Tables were full but one in the front all the way in the corner.

“It still hasn’t changed, just how I like it,” Klaus said walking over to a table and waving the waiter over as Elijah sat down. The seats creaked a little as they settled down. 

“What can I get you two gentlemen?” The waiter said, taking out his notepad which was wrinkled. “Two glasses of whisky,” Klaus said with a smirk plastered on his face. 

“Your finest whiskey,” Elijah said a bit sharper than he was intending to say. if he was here at least let the drinks be good. “Alright that's all?” the waiter asked, both brothers could tell he didn't know what was going on.

After what seemed like a long wait, the lights dimmed down to it just being a black room. There were mummers and chatters and the spotlight was targeted towards an empty stage. Then the sound of heels tapping the wood was heard and the audience could see a solute of a lady as she appeared from the shadows with a bright smile, clearly practiced. Her lips were a shade of dark maroon color. The Jazz band started softly playing in the background as she spoke. “Ladies and…gentlemen,” She said slowly, smiling. She walked to the center of the stage where she was more visible. Elijah's eyes slowly widened taking in the lady before his eyes. She most certainly had everyone's attention, especially his. She was wearing a striking navy blue dress that was laced up by a corset. On her head a sort of hat, a top hat if you had made it miniature. “And that's our leading lady for all our problems” Klaus whispered to Elijah.  His eyes lit up with a mischievous glint in his eye. “That's the lady we came here for?” Elijah said back quietly. 

“Yes, what did you think I brought you here to watch some old hag?”  “The way you were speaking about her made me think she was a century old,” Elijah said, the sarcasm in his voice evident. It brought Klaus to a low chuckle, shaking his head as he took a sip of his whiskey. Elijah glanced and caught eye contact with the women and he didn't intend to break it. 

She kept a smile while talking or singing but always her gaze would land on Elijah to her he was the mysterious man in a nice suit. She knew that there was something off with him and the man next to him. Once she finished her performance it was time for the next lady to come up. She quickly gave a bow and a wink to the coward and disappeared off. 

Y/n walked back to the hallway where some of the dancers were. She could hear groaning coming from the main dressing room which made her roll her eyes annoyed. Y/n walked over to the mirror on one of the walls to check her appearance. Rory, a redhead, blue-eyed bitch in y/n’s mind.   “Oh come on, no going down to the guests tonight? Have you gone soft?” Rory teased y/n because it was used to her being a total flirt with the crowd, gaining an extra couple of bucks if she could. Unfortunately, tonight wasn't the night for her especially after that strange man gave the worst but best feeling in her gut “No….. wasn’t feeling up to it… and anyways I’ll leave some for the rest of you” She answered fixing her hair in the back hallway.  “Heard there are two money machines down there, blonde and the guy in the suit,” Rory said, lighting up a cigarette leaning on the wall opposite from y/n. Then she got that bad feeling in her gut again. “Yeah I saw, the guy in the suit has a big staring problem,” She said reapplying her lipstick. She sounded annoyed, Rory could tell, and handed her a cig, which she took and waved her hand over the end and lit it up. The dancers close to the stage gave them both dirty stares as the smoke clouded the little hallway but they both could be less bothered. 

“Well if you're not going to make a move I will,” Rory said smirking  “Tell me how that works out for you” Y/n scoffed knowing Rory wasn't the brightest in the bunch there and she was most certainly not going to be able to pull a stunt like that. “Stop acting like you're better, any of us here can do exactly what you can,” Rory said.

Her eyes narrowed.  “I'm not better, I just have comprehension, I know when to back off a member of the audience you DON’T,” Y/n said bitterly. “Self-centered bitch” Rory mumbled. Rory was on her third strike with the owner one more and she would be out. Y/n prayed for the day that would happen

»--•--«

After an hour or maybe even two. The crowd was getting rowdy and so was the music. Losing its taste. That's how you would know the show was soon to be over.

The show was over to Y/n’s relief and she rushed to her dressing room waiting for Smith to come unlock it. Smith was the owner and had a very strange rule 15 minutes before show time every performer needed to be out of their dressing room or else they would be locked in there. No performance and no money for the night. “Smith will you hurry” She called from her door as he was taking his sweet time turning the corner. Then he came and opened the door. “Be patient will ya?” Smith said annoyed with a toothpick in his mouth. He was an old guy, wearing a worn-out leather jacket, and a worn-out hat. Everything about him was worn out. Y/n went into her dressing room and shut the door sinking into her couch. She let out a sigh of relief for

a brief moment until her senses were going ballistic on her. All she could hear was

Run, run and run! 

Don’t trust the lion

She absolutely hated the ancestors and their horrid timing when warning her, she didn't know what. scratch that she knew exactly why. Her mind went back to the two men in the front corner. “Shit” she mumbled to herself, undressing and putting on a silky one-piece that went to her thighs and a long sheer robe. Her heart was quickly pounding as the voices kept repeating. She took off her jewelry and her palms were sweating. She almost dropped her necklace and caught it just in time to hear a knock on her door. Her head snapped to look at the door. Two more knocks followed. She felt a lump beginning to form in her throat. 

“Who is?” she called out as normal as she could proceeding to stand straight. “Open up love. We’re not here to cause any harm…..” Klaus said smirking, she could hear a threatening undertone to his call. Elijah was by his side as they waited for the door to open up. The door slowly opened and enough for them to see the young lady with a neutral look on her face. 

“What do I owe the pleasure of you two gentlemen?” She said with a tight smile, the voices finally stopped as if they had left it up to fate if she were to die or live.

“Mind if we come inside? Looks like a lovely room you have in there” Klaus said, his voice dripping with false innocence that any smart being could tell it was all an act. “I’m not supposed to let people, especially strangers,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. 

Klaus realized it would be a little harder to get her to let them in. “I’m Klaus, Klaus Mikaelson,” Klaus said. A smirk quickly grew on his face as he saw the color slightly drain from her face. 

“And here is my dear brother Elijah,” Klaus said, taking a step at her door and his hand gesturing to Elijah. “Hello,” Elijah said, finally speaking. Stepping along with his brother. 

“What do you people want from me?” she asked. She had now come into contact with the originals themselves, and two of the worst. “Let us in and we’ll have a quaint little chat,” Eijah said leaning on the door frame causing her to open the door more they got a peak of the dressing room. Even though she didn’t want to, she knew the other girls would be out soon and it wouldn’t be a good look for her if there were two attractive and wealthy men at the doorstep of dressing rooms. She could hear the rumors already. “Come in” Y/n mumbled stepping aside as both of them stepped inside. Her room was a bit messy, there were bottles of bourbon, wine, and whiskey on the coffee table, some opened, some closed. Few dirty shot cups, and one singular cup of wine. A long wide couch on either side of the room.The one on the left-hand had dresses thrown on it and lingerie.

The right had books piled on top of it, along with a basket of herbs and other assortments. Both brothers looked at each other, both thinking the same. She was a very messy witch. She could see the judgment through both of them. “Forgive me, if I knew I had… visitors I would have cleaned up better,” She said acting sorry, but she wasn’t. She’d be damned if it was her dressing room, she could do whatever the hell she wanted. Elijah could sense her false remorse and if he was being honest as stunning as she was he wasn’t totally in the mood.  “You don’t have to put on your theatrics with us here tonight, trust me the last thing we need from you is lies. We know you're a witch so we will be getting to the point  I think I've spent just enough time in this god-awful place ” Elijah said, the distaste in his mouth clear. She got annoyed crossing her arms and leaning on her vanity letting out a deep breath. This man and his audacity” she thought to herself. Klaus was already sitting on the couch to the right, making himself comfortable moving things around as if this was his own room. “Well you know I'm a witch, what a great thing to come in and say I really am glad my dark little secret is out to the world Mr.Mikaelson,” She said sarcastically as she lit up a cigarette. “Well, I'll be quite forward with you, I know you have access to Wolfsbane,” Klaus said, looking her up and down. 

“And I'm looking to get it,” he said, picking up a jar of herbs. Her heart sped up, great another thing she hated, was wolfsbane. Known for its ability to be lethal to the werewolf kind, she knew exactly why he needed it. She had heard rumors of the hybrid coming back to New Orleans and taking down Marcel, giving a lot of the witches the power to practice magic freely but knew about the loophole he created by getting a werewolf pregnant. 

“Because you want to control the werewolves, why? There already out of New Orleans Marcel drove them out years ago” she said quietly trying to play dumb for now. “Well let me inform you now, I'm back and I'm here to stay, and let's just say the werewolves have made their comebacks. Especially with the mother of my child…. I need to take necessary precautions to keep them in line in case” Klaus said explaining and Y/n kept her eyes to the ground every now and then staring at Elijah's very nice shoes. Her eyes slowly drifted up looking at him from his feet to his eyes. He was already staring which caused shivers to go down her spine 

“And if I refuse?” she asked her eyes drifting to Elijah and Klaus knowing the answer. 

“You die,” Klaus said, shrugging. He said it as if it was nothing. To him, her life was nothing, he could always find another witch anytime he wanted and she wished he did. 

“Help me and you are promised safety. A newfound place in my little kingdom” Klaus said, lacing his deal with false promises, sweet words. 

“Don't trust the lion,” she remembered in her head. Klaus was clearly the lion, with blonde hair, devilish eyes, and stalking his prey as such.  her eyes darted to Elijah. If she couldn’t trust the lion then could she really trust his brother? But she, as any other, heard the tales of the nobleman. The most common story is the nobleman and his word. He didn’t break it, never broke it. Elijah prided himself on that.

“I want your word,” she blurted out. Klaus raised his eyebrows in surprise. Elijah had a smirk, small but noticeable, filled a small portion of his face. “For what exactly?” He asked taking a singular step closer. “That I won't die or get fucking double-crossed,” She said, trying to not sound nervous.  “You two fuckers can’t walk into my dressing room threaten me to take my life and then give me false promises!” She said finally getting a little angry more than scared. Klaus had an amused look and got up and walked up to his brother. “Deal with it,” Klaus said simply and left. The door clicked shut. Now it was just her and Elijah. 

“Are you sure you want to negotiate with me? It is really unheard of” Elijah said, straightening the cuffs of his suit. “Here I thought you were better than that tyrant” she muttered. Elijah just got more amused, “I am, or I’m not it depends on who you ask. But why was my word? My brothers not enough for you?” Elijah asked. She took a deep breath. 

“First your brother is widely known for double-crossing and well his heinous acts of murder,” she said uncrossing her arms. “You on the other hand while I know you two aren’t too different you have more honor than him, you keep your word you try not to harm people,” she said plainly walking one step closer. 

“ Ancestors do talk, don’t they? I will say I am flattered that good things are said” Elijah said smiling. His accent was thick, she couldn’t help but like that. “Don’t be cocky too soon I’ve heard just as bad about you” she said distasteful. Her eyes look at the posters around the walls of past shows. It didn’t wipe the smile off Elijah’s face just yet. “Well, how about this? Do you actually have wolfsbane?” Elijah asked, there was a part of him that was a bit suspicious of her. Witches weren’t always reliable. He learned that through the thousand years, he was alive. Either you had to compel them to make sure they stepped out or simply just had to kill them. But he could smell Verveine coming off y/n and her blood. So no use trying to compel her.  She went to a little drawer pulled out a little glass bottle filled with a little sample and threw it over to him. He caught it quite sharply. He popped the lid off and he could already smell it. 

“I suppose you, are not a fraud,” Elijah said, putting the small vile in his suit pocket

“Well?” She said still waiting for his word 

What?” He said. His smile turned into a smirk. If he was being honest, he was getting a little kick out of this. Playing dumb was a bit fun he did have to admit it himself 

“Don’t play dumb” she spat out annoyed. Her belt to her robe fell down and her robe was open. Elijah looked, and looked away. “Have some shame” he told himself in his head to stay in control. 

“You have my word, Miss…?” Elijah said bit of a questioning tone trying to figure out her last name.He raised an eyebrow waiting for her to speak

“Y/L/n” she said quietly. She was relieved she had his word.

“Miss Y/L/n that no harm will come to you ... .as long as you keep your end of the bargain supply us with what we need for the amount of time we need it” Elijah said standing now right in front of her. 

“I suppose we have a deal,” she said, lifting her head to meet his gaze. He was immortal and quite perfect. His face was sculpted amazingly and his eyes looked like they could suck anyone in.  Y/n never understood vampirism and never wanted to. She knew enough to make her dislike them. She took a long deep breath of her cigarette and let out a very long puff. The smoke went all over both their faces. Even then she could see him stare and the stupid smirking on his face she could only wish to wipe off.

might be a slow burn;)

-part 1-

[jjmaysbaby]

EL TANGO DE ROXANNE

CHAPTER ONE

Summary: Luke believes that somehow fate will bring you two together, but will other problems collide prevent it from coming true?

Warnings: small angst, unrequited love, pining, lovesick!luke, toxic relationship (not with luke), manipulative oc, tension, jealousy.

author's note: i know this not accurate to the pjo show or moulin rouge but be patient, it will all connect soon my darlings! this is my first actual fic! please lmk if there's any mistakes and your honest opinions on it.

one-sided love is one of the emotionally painful things a teenager can experience, but for demigods, it's nothing compared to the battles and quests they have to go through within their lives. though for luke castellan, he isn't currently facing any chimera or minotaur. the real monster for him is the one sat on the athena table, felix greenwood.

luke knew that annabeth was a daughter of athena, you could definitely tell by her hardworking strength but whenever he saw felix walk into cabin 6, it just didnt seem right. instead he would just vision a giant pit opening from the ground, fire and smoke erupting from it, and felix happily jumping in. it seems more fitting. luke watched as an aggravating smile came upon felix's face as his male siblings gloat over what has no importance to luke. however he notice felix's eyes occasionally observe one certain table in the distance, the ares table.

the children of ares are known to have feelings of anger, hatred, and bloodlust up to the point where they'd start physical fights. but you had always seemed guarded and tactile, whenever making a move or strategy during capture the flag, nobody would never know what you had done until somehow your already nearby the opponents flag. they never knew about the fiery rage boiling inside of you, bursting to get out.

however, everyone knew of your fondness towards felix, members of the camp adored and wished for a connection like yours. wherever you went, he was always within proximity. which for everyone else seemed charming, but luke truly doubted it.

luke felt cursed, not just by the gods, but for the predicament he's in. you have bewitched him in a way that no mystical creature ever can. he could even be dead in a grave, 6 feet below earth but he would still find a way to crawl back to you. luke admits that he is a romantic, believing that if your not with your true loved one for the rest of your life then what other purpose do you have than to lay down and accept the fate of death? he would destroy himself for you if it meant being in your loving gaze. but what he didn't know is that you were already crumbling due to the standards of your current love.

eating a cluster of cherries for breakfast, you look across at your siblings. you occasionally give input to the conversation, but words spoken by another repeat in your head.

"babe we didn't ask for you opinion, i love you but please just stay quiet for me."

you would always ignore his responses, at first they were subtle and not very often, but now it seems as if a censor inside of felix has now just unexpectedly been switched off. but after every argument or disagreement he would always come back, but only with gifts or manipulation, never a apology. somehow you would always be the blame or the reason. once, when you and him were sat along the sparkling lake together late at night, you asked him what it is that makes him love you.

"your hot and someone i can always talk about my problems too, i trust you."

if this is what love is supposed to feel like, you don't want it. people think love is something extraordinary, something that can last forever and withstand anything. but the love that you have with felix, it cracked and shattered ages ago, you just don't know where to run to.

you feel yourself getting disinterested with the conversation your siblings are having, and unconsciously gaze around. but something catches your eye, or rather someone. you feel as if your eyes are locked into places with his. while luke feels as if his heart has stopped beating, you feel as if you recognize him, brain muddled trying to pinpoint his face from your memory. maybe he's the new camp member everyone is talking about? you overheard that he was placed in the hermes cabin since he hadn't been claimed yet.

eyes still gazing into his, luke feels as if his face is on fire. chris clears his throat as he realizes that the conversation has suddenly became one sided, he then notices where luke's diverted attention has gone. a bright grin grows on chris's face as he aggressively nudges him in the arm.

"dude! oh my gods you have to go and speak to her! you've been waiting for this chance since like what- 3 years now!"

luke slowly nods while keeping eye contact with you, rising from his seat. he feels as if the gods have answered his prayer, everything moving in slow motion as his chance has finally landed in front of him. luke then hears the painful sound of a bell. he actually gets the temptation to grab you and pin you down, sat next to him so this opportunity doesn't dissappear. but we don't always get what we want. his mind can't actually tell if the crackling he hears is the sound of his heart aching even more as he notices felix striding over towards you or from the fire used for the offerings. surrendering, he makes his way over to the camps, chris giving a him sympathetic pat on the back.

you notice felix with egoistic look on his face making his way over to you, but with firmness, you walk straight past him. you can already tell he must have a dumbfounded look on his face based on the giggles and laughs you can hear from behind you, mostly coming from either his or your siblings, maybe even both. strolling by, you notice the same boy who seemed so fixated on you with his friend. looking behind you as you walk past, you check him out. he is quite attractive, somewhat of a muscular build, brown eyes and black hair.

little did you know that your glance back at him nearly gave him a heart attack. he had a plan to save you, whether it seemed wrong or right he wanted to help you realize that love can be beautiful if it's experienced with the right person.

you knew that from the way he was looking at you he definitely didn't want to be your friend, but he didn't want to be your enemy either.

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[sissylittlefeather]

In honor of Halloween...

"Devil in Disguise"

I wrote a vampire fic but PLOT TWIST Elvis isn't the vampire.

YOU ARE!

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI!!!! Kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), a little girl on girl action, threesome (MFF), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, also vampire bites and blood drinking

A/N: this was a fun stretch for me. Please let me know what you think!

You've honestly forgotten how many years you've been a vampire. You know you were turned at the end of the American Civil War as a means of survival for your children, who are all dead now anyway. After your youngest passed, you moved to France. You followed the American soldiers here in 1944, since they had literally been your bread and butter since you were turned. Now, the war was over, but your job as a dancer at the Moulin Rouge was too good to leave and there was still a steady stream of young men, and even soldiers at times, to keep you well-fed and young(ish)-looking. You had been 33 when you were turned, so that was your permanent age, but when you were well-fed the men assumed you were younger and never bothered to ask if you weren't.

None of the other dancers knew what you were except for Anya, who was also like you and had been a refugee after the Russian revolution. While she was younger, she had become your closest friend in the years since you'd come to Paris.

She was the one who alerted you to the presence of one Elvis Presley in the spring of 1959. You'd seen him on television and knew he was in Germany with the Army, but you hadn't expected him to show up here.

"He's on furlough. The girls are fighting over who will get to be with him first." Anya whispers to you as you get dressed. Luckily you've learned to understand her thick accent. She knew you were always looking for a new challenge and she preferred rich, older gentlemen, so she wasn't interested in this boy, as she thought of him.

"Oh, Anya, I don't know. I'm exhausted and he's sure to be surrounded by photographers and fans. It'll be hard to get him alone."

"You're tired because..." she leans in and speaks softly, "you need to feed. And how fun would he be?"

"Maybe. I don't want to compel him, though. That's too easy."

"Then don't. Go out there and show these little girls how a woman works." She slaps your ass and gives you a wink before walking to line up for the opening dance.

******

After your dances are finished, you're sent to mingle with the men in the club and see if you can't score a few extra tips. You see the throng of people and assume that must be where he is. Swinging your hips as you walk, you move to a spot in his eye line, but far enough away to not draw the attention of the crowd. He's got dancers all around him and he must've kissed a half dozen of them already, but you recognize the look in his eye. It's the same look you have on most nights. He's hungry for a challenge, something new and exciting and not the same girls falling at his feet.

That's when his eyes meet yours. They lock for a good thirty second before his gaze moves down your body. He takes in your black and red bodice and fishnet hose, all the way down to the black heels on your feet and back up again to the feathers stuck in your hair. But you know what he wants, so you pull your eyes away from his magnetic stare and start to walk away, a look of disinterest on your face.

You move slowly across the room, talking and flirting with patrons as you do. Still, you can feel his eyes on you, tracking you like a predator with prey. Little does he know, he's the prey in this scenario and he's falling perfectly into your snare.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him dismissing the girls around him and trying to shake the crowd that follows him, assuring them he'll be right back. But you know better. Once he's yours, he'll be yours for the night.

You keep making your way around the room until you feel a soft hand on your shoulder and a voice in your ear.

"You runnin' away from me, mama?" You turn to face him with a bored smile.

"Should I be?" The hunger in his eyes intensifies with your apathy towards him.

"I'm told I'm a pretty good time. You might not want to run away just yet." He's laying it on thick for you, smiling devilishly, with his lip curled just so. You have to admit, he is very good looking, and you smile in spite of yourself. He leans his head back a little, confident he's got you now.

"Come on, mama. Let's go somewhere we can talk."

That didn't take long. He's less of a challenge than you thought he'd be. Turns out his hunger is your best weapon.

"Follow me." You smile up at him through your lashes and make your way to the door that leads backstage. Once you're back there with a little privacy, you push him up against the wall and kiss him deeply, running your hands down his front to the top of his pants and then back up. At first, he's caught off guard, but it doesn't take him long to wrap his arms around you and pull your body in close to his. He has some skill with his tongue and you realize that you're hungrier than you thought you were. You feel your fangs start to extend, so you pull away quickly and grab his hand, practically dragging him to one of the rooms you use for this sort of thing. He doesn't complain about your speed, though.

When you get inside, you turn and lock the door behind you.

"Damn, baby. Somebody knows what she wants."

"You have no idea." You round on him, trying to keep your fangs hidden until the right moment. You don't want to scare him away too quickly. It takes everything inside you not to just pounce on him, but you take a deep breath and feel your fangs retract.

You push him backwards to the edge of the couch.

"Sit down."

"Yes ma'am." His eyes sparkle with the excitement of being told what to do. You can tell he's used to being in charge, but he's not opposed to letting you take control. You walk over to the record player and put on something jazzy and sensual. The more aroused he is, the more vitality you can derive from his blood. When you get back in front of him he reaches out and puts both hands on your hips.

"Nuh uh." You move his hands back to his lap. "Just look. Don't touch."

"Mmm." He grunts and bites his bottom lip as you begin to move in front of him. You sway your hips seductively and touch your body as you dance. Slowly, you reach behind you and unzip your bodice, letting it fall to the floor. The only thing you have on underneath is your fishnet hose and his mouth drops at the sight in front of him. He adjusts his pants and you know he's well on his way to where you need him. You slide the hose down and kick off your shoes until you're standing in front of him completely naked. He still hasn't closed his mouth or been able to make a sound. You straddle him on the couch and reach for his tie. His hands go to your breasts and again you stop him.

"Did I say you could touch?" He whimpers.

"Honey, please..."

"I will tell you when you can touch me." He whines and flexes his hands before he puts them back at his sides. You begin to undress him slowly, first his tie, then his jacket, and finally his shirt, running your fingers across his chest lightly. He barely even has hair there.

"I need to touch you. Please." He looks at you with puppy dog eyes and bucks his hips up into you. You feel his hardness pushing against his pants. Then, you stand up again and he moans.

"No, honey, I'm sorry..."

"Take off your pants." He does as he's told and frantically removes his pants and shoes and then sits back down on the couch. His cock bounces in his lap and you can't help but be a little impressed by the size of it.

"You want to touch me?"

"Yes, please, mama." He looks at you with his eyes wide, dick twitching. You walk toward him and he reaches out, first cautiously and then hungrily, his hands exploring your body feverishly. He pulls you down into his lap and kisses you passionately. He lays you on your back on the couch and kisses down your neck. You put your hand on the top of his head and gently push him down toward your center.

He smiles. He can do this part well and he knows it. When his mouth makes contact with your clit, you yelp a little because it feels so good. He really is talented with his tongue and it's obvious as he licks and laps at you. Then, he slides two of his long fingers inside you and starts to move them in and out. The sensation is almost overwhelming and you feel your orgasm building deep in your core. He knows he's almost got you there too, so he picks up the pace of his hand and tightens his tongue to a point as he licks over and around your clit. Finally, the waves crash over you, sending heat and electricity to your fingertips and back again. You shudder and pulse around his hand and he does that boyish grin again.

"How badly do you want to fuck me?" You ask as he makes his way back up your body.

"Honey, I don't think I've ever wanted anything more in my life." You push him up into a sitting position and straddle him again, slowly sinking onto his cock until you're stuffed to the hilt with him. He groans and leans his head back on the couch. You feel your fangs extend again with the pleasure and do your best to keep your mouth closed, but his neck is exposed and you're so hungry...

"Honey? You okay?" You realize that you've stopped moving and snap back to reality.

"Mhmm!" You go back to grinding on his lap, pushing him deeper and deeper. That was too close. You have to keep yourself under control better until he's lost in a post-sex drunken haze. Why is he getting to you like this? You need to not let yourself get this hungry.

"Fuck, mama. This feels so good. I'm getting close." You stop and stand up off of him. "What? Why?"

"Not yet." He breathes deeply and leans his head back on the couch again. You grab a robe off the back of the door.

"I'll be right back."

You step out into the hallway and almost run smack into Anya.

"Oh thank God. I need your help. I'm having a hard time controlling myself. Help me finish him off." Anya looks at you concerned.

"Okay. I will help you." This isn't the first time this has happened. You've helped her and she's helped you before. Balancing the desires and hunger as a vampire is a delicate business. Sometimes it takes two of you to keep each other in line.

You open the door again and step in with Anya. He sits up and attempts to cover himself with his hand.

You unzip Anya's bodice and let it fall to the floor, pulling her into a deep kiss, your breasts pressed up against each other. Elvis sits on the couch with his mouth open again, unsure of what to do next. When you both turn to him, he sits up straight and swallows hard. His cock bounces in his hand as he looks at you both there naked in front of him. You sit on either side of him on the couch. Anya's hand goes to his dick and you pull him into a kiss. You add your hand to hers and he groans, watching you both work with his eyes wide.

"Holy fuck." He whispers as you lean in and kiss each other again over him as you touch him. Together, you lay him down on the couch. Anya climbs onto his face and he goes to work. But when you slide his cock into you, you hear him moan audibly. You begin to bounce up and down on him quickly and he grabs your hips. He has a hard time deciding what to do with his hands as Anya sits on his face and you sit on his dick. He gets her to an orgasm pretty quickly, being as skilled as he is and she stands up off of him. He's surprised when you lean in and kiss him, even with Anya's desire on his lips. He thrusts into you from underneath and you feel another orgasm forming, your fangs starting to descend. She can tell you're struggling, so Anya leans in and kisses you hard.

"I think he's almost ready." She whispers with her thick accent. She grabs his hands and holds them above his head while you fuck him.

"'M gonna come, mama." He groans. You don't stop. Instead, you move faster, your own orgasm just a couple of thrusts away. You slam into each other faster and faster, harder and harder, all while Anya holds his hands. Finally, you scream and he cusses loudly.

"Yes, fuck, oh my god!" He pumps into you weakly as he shudders and fills you with warmth. You come too, hard, and your fangs come out one last time. You can no longer hide them and you lean forward to the soft supple skin of his neck.

"What?!" He begs, but doesn't fight back. You gently pierce him with your teeth and suck as the blood comes quickly. It's sweetened with the energy of his desire and his release and it fills you in a way you didn't think was possible.

As you finish, Anya releases his arms and you lick the tiny marks on his neck, knowing your saliva will heal it quickly.

"Did you just bite me?" He asks drunkenly.

"I did."

"I liked it."

"Most of you do, you just don't know it until it happens."

Anya kisses your forehead and grabs her things, wrapping the robe around herself and disappearing through the door.

He sits up and wraps his arms around you.

"Did you get younger?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

"Make me like you."

"Oh, no, honey, I would never."

"Why not? Please?" He looks at you with his round blue eyes and you see the pain there. You kiss his hair and hold him close to your chest.

"You don't really want this. I promise."

"What if I really do?"

"I'm not turning Elvis Presley into a vampire."

"Then I'll find someone who will." You look deeply into his sex-drunk eyes.

"We'll talk about this in the morning." You curl up next to him on the couch as sleep approaches both of you.

"I'm not changing my mind."

You drift off in his arms, thinking about what it would mean to release him into the world as a new vampire. Is that a responsibility you're willing to accept? Is it really what he wants? Can you be the vampire that makes the most famous man on the planet immortal?

You don't know. But tonight, you were the vampire that fucked and drank Elvis Presley. And who else can say that?

******

Hope that was a fun treat!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @ashtag6887 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows

Sorry if you didn't want a tag in this one! Either way, I hope some of you enjoy this little Halloween treat!

[purplekiwis]

Summary: It's no secret that as a figure skater, you're fed up with the local hockey team being treated like royalty... and your ex's status as a player isn't helping much either.

Genre: Exes to Lovers (Enemies to Lovers if you blink 😉)

Warnings: it's angsty and smutty

Wordcount: 8K

A/N: i'd like to thank @sucker4angstt for requesting this concept! it was a blast to work on and i hope you guys have as much fun reading it as i had writing it 🤍

THIS IS A 2 PART SERIES | PART 2 IS HERE ❄️

OTHER WORKS BY ME

“You wanna do black again? Didn’t we do that last time?” Niall inquired as he switched off the car’s ignition.

You had just shown him a dress you had found the night before in hopes he would like it, but as you had already been expecting, he claimed black was boring and wouldn't stand out among the competition. “Well, yes but this one’s a different style from the last one. It would go well with our song.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try something new sometimes, you know? Like white or blue… perhaps even red?” He suggested as he removed both your skating bags from the trunk and placed them down by his feet.

You hid a sigh while you took your bag from him. It never got easier to admit that you had to consider the price before picking the costume. For whatever reason, there was always a hint of embarrassment associated to that admission. Needless to say you would also prefer to wear a bright colored outfit with lots of glitter and transparencies, but those were simply out of reach for your budget.

“We did red once already, that time we did Moulin Rouge.” You reminded him as you walked side by side, each of you steering your own carryon.

“Hm, that’s true. I’d forgotten about that.”

You hadn’t been lucky enough to land a parking spot right at the front of the sports centre that morning, which sucked big time given how chilly it was outside. Getting up early for practice was never fun, but during the winter months it got almost unbearable. Especially when the sky was all hazy and mostly black by the time you woke up.

“How would you feel about like, a nude?” You proposed, despite the fact that you weren't really fond of the color.

“From you?” Niall sniggered. “Thanks but I think I’ll have to pass.”

“Come on, can't you be serious for like 2 seconds? This is important.” You huffed, pretending like you hadn’t found his little joke amusing. “Also, um... I know this is probably like super annoying for you but my budget’s kinda tight right now, so if you’d be willing to repeat one of our previous outfits, that would be awesome.”

Niall laughed a bit. “Stop with that nonsense, will you? It's not annoying and of course I don't mind. Sides, it's not like it'll even matter what we wear. We'll do so well that the judges won't even think to pay attention to our outfits.” He then turned to you and stated, “...That being said, I still don't want to wear black again.”

“Aff, fine.” You grumbled. “Which one do you want to wear then?”

“Hm.. I dunno, actually.” He took a moment to reflect. “How about we just start naming them until we find one we both agree on?”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually.”

“Ready?” He asked, you nodded. “1, 2, 3…”

“Pink.”

“Turquoise.”

“Navy.”

“Green”

“Orange.” You said it in unison, but your faces immediately turned down in distaste after. “Nevermind the orange. I still don't know what we were thinking when we picked those.”

“Yeah, me neither.” You admitted through a deep breath in. “I’d be fine with the green though, as long as it's the dark one.”

“Make it the medium dark, and it’s settled.”

You reached an agreement right as you were approaching the entrance of the sports centre, where some figure skaters you had grown familiar with over the years were gathering. Surprisingly, neither unpacking nor warming up.

“Are you guys all done already?” You asked them as you dashed towards your usual warm-up area. It was spacious and had a canopy that kept you dry in case it rained. “I didn’t realize we were late...” You earned Niall's judgmental stare with your sentence. He had been rushing you all morning, but you were sure you weren't that late. As far as your calculations were concerned, you were just in time for your first warm-up.

In days like these, it was always very tempting to skimp on the off the ice warm-ups and go straight to the rink, but with the championship right around the corner, neither you nor Niall would take that risk. Because although you also competed individually, it was as a pair that you really stood out. Your journey to nationals depended on you both, and you weren't going to jeopardize all that for being too lazy to stretch.

“Don’t bother starting.” One of the skaters, Natalia, intervened when she realized what the two of you were up to. “The Emperors booked early morning.” She clarified, upon noticing your perplexed looks.

“They did what-” You gasped, all the more startled.

“They can’t do that.” Niall said after you, and the look on his face was as distressed as yours. “They already take up most of the rink’s time!”

“When their stupid coach came we tried to tell him that, but he refused to listen. He didn't even pause- just walked straight through as if we weren't here.” The new skater jumped into the conversation. You hadn't officially met her yet, but you knew her name was Mei, a.k.a the girl Niall had been crushing on for weeks.

Redness engulfed his cheeks as soon as she looked his way, but he still managed to respond, albeit stutteringly. “Yeah, I'm not too surprised… Y/N’s ex plays on the team and he always used to say the guy was a moron.” You pointed out Niall’s oversharing by flashing him a chastising look, but he was too engrossed in Mei's beauty to notice your death stare.

You cleared your throat, now feeling a touch hot in the face too, before turning to the remainder of the group, “Have you spoken to couch Jo or Paul? Aren't they supposed to come teach the kids right after we leave?”

“Yeah.” Natalia sighed. “Apparently they’ve had to rescheduled some of the skating classes but nothing much. Basically it's fine for everyone but us.”

“So what time can we come now?” The Emperors could have taken your place, but surely they had to have left a gap somewhere.

“That’s the thing.” Mei explained. “There’s no time apart from the lessons we have with our coaches. A spot is available in the afternoon, but that's just not feasible for anyone.”

“What? No! How’s that even allowed?” Your question was hardly noticed by the other skaters as they were preparing to leave. "Wait- Where are all of you off to? We can’t just leave; have to solve this.”

“What do you propose we do, then?” Mei groaned. She was clearly on edge, as was everyone else in the group. “We’ve already tried. We won't get to solve anything right now, so staying here is a waste of time.” She grabbed her skating bag off the floor. “You can still try if you want, though. Didn’t you used to mess around with one of them? Maybe he could help.”

You scoffed as you watched Mei leave with the rest of the group, “Unbelievable...” You commented with Niall, only to find him looking at you like he agreed with her. "Oh no, not you siding with her. Are you kidding me?”

“I mean, she’s got a point…” As he went on, a goofy smile spread over his face. “I can't believe she actually spoke to me. This is crazy... and she’s even hotter up close…” Rolling your eyes, you started gathering both your bags in a tacit plea to leave. “Please, Y/N... can you go talk to him? I don't wanna stop seeing her now that she's speaking to us.”

You took a long, deep breath.

You really weren't in the mood to do all that, but unfortunately your ex happened to play team captain for the hockey team... so perhaps, if you could flip the tables and get him to be on your side, there was a small possibility his opinion could give you some advantage when it came to straightening everything out.

That was what you needed to remind yourself of.

There was a deeper purpose to this than Niall's desire to speak with Mei. It was important for everyone. None of you could afford to miss practice now that the championship was about to start. The time you spent practicing with your instructors was good but having time to skate freely every morning was critical.

“Fine. I'll go, but you’re coming with me.”

You had wanted Niall to come along for the emotional support, but that idea was quickly scrapped once the centre’s receptionist, who was acting a lot more standoffish than usual, refused to let you walk past the front desk.

It occurred to you that his behavior might have something to do with how Mei and the rest of the skaters handled that morning’s dreadful news. If that was the case, his mood was about to get worse because you were planning to bring up the issue as well… until Niall stepped in, “Oh, we're not here to skate. We’re here because my friend thinks she dropped her bracelet on her way out of the rink yesterday. We just wanted to see if we can find it.”

“I have orders not to let anyone in right now. If you want, you can come by after eight to look for it.” He answered monotonously, his gaze fixed on the computer screen.

“Ah, we have school at eight; we can't come at that time I'm afraid.” Niall’s revelation elicited no response. So, after a moment of awkward stares, you continued,

“If we don't go now, someone else might find and keep it.” The man’s expression told you that he thought you were being a nuisance, but you kept playing by Niall’s script and added, “The bracelet was a gift from my mother. It has a lot of sentimental value...”

Finally, just as you were beginning to lose hope, he sighed and said, “If it's just the bracelet you're looking for I'll let you go find it, but he stays.” His head motion indicated that he was referring to Niall.

“I’m sure it would be easier if we searched together...”

The man sat back with a sigh. “Look, it’s nothing personal. I'm simply doing what I've been told by one of the coaches after he got harassed by your little squad at the door… which is not to let anyone in the rink while the boys are there. I'm already making an exception for you when I shouldn't, so it’s either this or you'll come back later.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I hadn’t been informed that the hockey coaches were now in charge of the place...” He ignored your provocation, but his gaze was drawn to the agitated tapping of your nails on the counter. “You know what, it's fine. I get it. I’ll be quick, oh- and don't worry, I'll be careful not to harass the local royalty while I’m there.”

You didn’t stick around for further verbal cues, just swiped your membership card, walked past the barrier and turned toward the rink. It was only after you got there that you realized how angry you were. Knowing that the hockey team was being treated like kings and given the freedom to do whatever and however they pleased with zero regard for anyone else was one of the most infuriating things you'd ever witnessed. It wasn't exactly surprising taken they always got prioritized for being the bigger sport, but they had never taken things this far before. This situation was ridiculous, and you weren't going to tolerate it.

So although you agreed to come speak with your ex, now you were actually hoping to speak directly with the coach instead. Maybe your efforts were in vain, but you had to, at least, try to get your point across. There was only one problem - he was nowhere to be found, and you didn’t know anyone else on the team well enough to ask on his whereabouts.

Speaking of the team, the guys were dressed in practice gear, which was far more basic than their game jersey’s, but still had the same colors of red and gold. You assumed they hadn't started properly training yet, as they were still warming up with crossovers and pivots.

Among the many broad-shouldered athletes there, your eyes were immediately drawn to the player whose number you knew best: 77.

Not that you’d ever need a number to identify him.

Even with hockey armor covering his frame, you knew his body’s contours like the back of your hand. Picturing the tousled curls hidden under his helmet, the green of his eyes, and the curvature of his lips was easy. A little too easy.

“Styles,”

He turned when he heard your voice. His eyes were obscured by the visor, but you could swear you saw his brows quirk. “Y/N,” He didn't look too surprised by your presence. In fact, he looked more amused at you yelling his name than at you being there.

After a few seconds of skating by he came closer, and as he stopped next to the board, his skates scratched the ice a little too harshly for someone who wasn't aiming to make a spectacle of himself. You weren't wowed by his effort. You could execute that same slide better and with greater polish if you wanted to.

“Where’s your coach? I’d like to have a word…”

He signaled the rooms on the top level with his head. “Up there in a meeting. Why, what do you want from him?”

“Not that it's any of your business but it looks like there’s an issue with the rink’s scheduling.”

You saw the grin he was trying to hide. “Oh, what’s that?”

“The skaters had it for 6am, as usual.” You attempted to highlight. “Ergo, you shouldn't be here.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Yes, we did.”

“I don't think we would be here if you had booked it, would we? If we took the spot, it was because it was available.”

“Well yeah, because we’ve never had to book it - because we had a spoken agreement and we’ve always followed through on it.” He didn't respond, nor did he appear very willing to engage in the conversation you were trying to have. “Are you listening to me?”

“I am,” His voice felt harsh and didn't quite fit the easy stance he showed as he shrugged. “I'm just not sure of what you want me to say – I’m sorry? Does that make you feel any better?”

His cynical tone didn't sit well in your stomach, but your face didn’t let that show. “Okay, look - I get it. You’re in the league and you need to practice, but that doesn’t give you the right to take early mornings from us. It's only two hours out of the entire day, couldn't you just let us keep them?”

He appeared somewhat bored by your approach, but not completely. His facial expression had an edge to it. He was irritated. “It wasn’t me who made the call. If you want to lash out at someone, try the guy at the front-desk or whatever. I can't help you.”

He was really starting to piss you off, but worse than that, there was a part of you that was getting legitimately hurt by his indifference. He used to be one of your biggest supporters, and now it was like he simply didn't care. “Even if it wasn't you who made the decision, you knew better than anybody that this would disrupt our practice and you still didn't say anything.”

“Why would I? Wasn't it you who just said it's none of my business? If you have an issue, it’s your place to handle it - not mine.”

“Harry, your stupid team already takes up most of the rink’s time! Our qualifying season starts in two weeks, we need to practice.”

“Well, I'm not sure if the news has reached your self-centered little world yet but our season has already started, and we have big games coming up. So sorry to break it to you but we're going to take all the extra rink time we can get.”

“Not unless I can’t do something about it.” Your implied threat was meaningless. You had no plan whatsoever... apart from the original one to get on Harry’s good side, which had just been blown. You'd figure something out though, anything to ensure they wouldn't get their way. “You’ll have to go through me first.”

He got closer, coming right up to your face as he leaned over the border and uttered one last, quiet “Gladly,” before skating away to rejoin his team.

The bleachers were packed by screaming fans in replica shirts. 

The big day had come. The Emperors were playing their first home game of the season and as the concentration of bodies suggested, a considerable portion of people had come out to witness it firsthand… including you and Niall.

After what the fuckers had done to you, you almost felt like a traitor for showing up to their game. However, you had purchased tickets weeks ago and since you had spent the money, you figured you might as well come and root for them to lose. That worked for a while, until they actually started losing.

As soon as the visiting team scored a goal, it became impossible to disguise who your heart was really rooting for. The Emperors were jackasses, that was beyond dispute, but they were the local team and it was hard to cheer for strangers when the other players were people you had “known” for years.

“You haven’t touched your pretzel…”

Niall's comment drew your gaze away from the game for a millisecond. “I don’t want it right now, I’m not hungry.” Your reply came out garbled due to the way your cheeks were getting smothered between your hands.

“It’s gonna go cold if you don’t eat it now...”

“You’re right. Here- you can have it.”

“You sure?” His hesitant smile expanded when he heard a fragmented “Yes” fall from your mouth. The “Thanks,” that followed was mumbled around a large bite. “Oh man, this is nothing like the hot dogs they sell here.” He chewed as he spoke, “Have you ever had one? They always put sauerkraut on them and it’s like, who even likes sauerkraut that much, you know what I mean?”

“Mhm,” you hummed again, eyes fixed on the local team captain and the player battling him for the puck. "Get off his ass, shithead." you blurted as another player floated over and pushed him against the board. It was the same player who kept harassing him throughout the first two frames of the game. There had already been insults, menacing stares, and provoking shoves exchanged. This wasn’t going to end well.

“You know you don’t have to do that anymore, don’t you?” Niall asked after a lengthy pause in conversation, what caught you off guard.

“Don’t have to do what? Eat sauerkraut?” You questioned back, a little confused.

“Get nervous for the games.” He clarified, which sort of took you by surprise. You weren't aware that your feelings were showing that clearly. “Since, you know…  you and Styles aren’t a thing anymore and all. You don’t have to get all anxious over him.”

Your focus immediately diverted from the rink as a result of Niall’s remark. “This isn’t about him, Niall. It’s about the game- I want us to win.”

“Uh huh… because of your deep love for hockey, I assume.” His face lit up with laughter. “Not any of the players in particular, just the sport itself.”

“Shut up- Oh, that son of a... oh, great! Now he's starting a fight...” You muttered inwardly once you saw Harry's gloves hit the ice first, followed by the other player's.

The initial strikes to the head sent the helmets flying. Thereafter, it was all direct blows. The two boys faced each other angrily as they dodged and struck each other with bare hands and faces. The crowd roared loudly as the violence between the two players increased. “God, I hate when they fight.” You admitted, despite it being nothing new. “Why does it always take the referees so long to split them?”

“Ah, well, you know that's how the game works. The crowd loves it.”

“No, I know that but… it’s barbaric.”

The other player’s left hand was gripping Harry's jersey as if he was going to rip it apart, while the right continued to strike jabs in his stomach. But Harry didn't cut loose; he whacked him with the same force. They both went down, and just like that there was blood on the ice. A laceration over Harry's eyebrow had resulted in what looked like a crimson mask covering his face, most likely caused by his helmet’s visor as it leapt out of his head.

As the boys hit the floor the referees finally intervened and broke up the fight.

But the two were back on the ice as if nothing had happened after spending five minutes in the penalty box. Harry’s cut was no longer bleeding, but the bloodied towel he left behind served as a solid memento.

“I swear my Nan is more flexible than you.” You teased Niall as he tried to strike the mermaid pose. He was struggling, so his tongue was sticking out.

“You can't compare your Nan's yoga to mine. She's been doing it for longer than I've been alive!” He grumbled as he attempted to move his elbow to the proper position by imitating your posture. “I’ll have you know though, that I've never had any complaints on my flexibility before. In fact, it’s what I usually get the most compliments on aside from my-”

“Shhhh.” You were shushed by the yoga instructor for speaking over the soothing music.

You had never taken a yoga class before but considering your time on the rink had been compromised, you figured it might be a good idea to give it a shot since it still allowed you to practice your balance and flexibility.

You'd gotten cocky and chosen advanced yoga, assuming it wouldn't be too difficult to keep up given your figure skating background. Big, big mistake. You were living it up at first… however, as the class progressed and poses like 'the crow' and 'the flying pigeon' began to appear, you found yourselves admiring everyone rather than trying to keep up.

As a result, you were only doing the same five poses over and over, which got boring really quick. Besides, you weren’t even mastering the intermediate ones...  as Niall was struggling with flexibility, while you were having trouble with all the arm strength exercises. That was when you started to get chatty, even though you were well aware that it wasn't appropriate.

You'd already been told to be quiet twice, so when your phone went off in the middle of class you didn't hesitate to roll up your mats and leave, figuring you had already caused enough disturbance.

“We'll never be allowed back there again...” Niall remarked on the way to the locker rooms. “Did you see how she looked at us when your phone rang? That wasn’t very Yin and Yang of her…”

“Well… to be fair, we were being incredibly rude...” You checked your phone for the notification you had received during class. “Speaking of rude, you won't believe who was texting me just now…”

“Who?” He realized who you were referring to when you made a face and pointed your head toward the rink. The yoga classes were held in the same section, the one dedicated to indoor sports. Despite being on opposite ends, you knew the hockey team was there because you had passed by and heard them. “No way... are you serious? What did he say? Does it have anything to do with the rink?”

“He didn't say... just asked if I could meet him at that cafe we used to go to after class. He says it’s urgent.”

“Do you need a ride? I can drop you off on the way back from class; it's close by.”

“No, don't worry. I end class earlier than you today, so I can take the shuttle like I used to.” You were guessing Harry had remembered you had a similar school schedule on Fridays, which is why he didn't bother telling you a time. He knew you would be there by 3pm... supposedly. “I don’t know if I’m going, though… I don’t know what he wants.”

“Yes you are.” Niall asserted, as if the idea of you not going was the most insane thing ever. “What if it’s something to do the rink?”

“What if it’s nothing to do with the rink?”

“No, come on… it has to have something to do with it.” He insisted. “I know you want to go; you're just nervous about seeing him.”

“No, the only reason why I am nervous is because he isn’t telling me what he wants. It's weird.”

Niall paused for a moment as you reached the door for the women’s locker rooms. His face let you know he was debating whether or not to tell you what was on his mind. He decided to do so. “It's obviously up to you whether you go or not, but if I were you I’d go just to see what he wants. You don't have to sit there all afternoon if you don't want to... and if things get too awkward, you can text me and I'll show up there to save you.”

“Right.” You replied even though you knew it wasn't the most appropriate answer.

You realized it would be stupid not to go knowing it could be about the rink. There was a good chance it was, which was supposed to get you excited, but in reality was doing the exact opposite. Selfishly, you wanted this to be about you and nothing else.

As petty as it sounds, you wanted to get there and hear Harry admit that he missed you, that karma had gotten him good, or something else that made you feel like your suffering had been worthwhile even if you were never getting back together. That was why you were afraid to go… because you would be disappointed if he looked as fine as he did last time.

“Does that mean you're going?” Niall asked, cutting through the pitiful thoughts racing through your mind.

You chewed on your lower lip. “I guess.”

You saw him as soon as you walked into the cafe.

He was sitting alone, but there was a girl “standing” next to his table. To refer to that as plain standing would be inaccurate. You knew what she was doing, and most of all you knew what for.

She was showcasing the best she had to offer. That was why her hips were pushed back, and her gut was pinched so firmly.

She fixed her hair over her shoulder, and you got a glimpse of her face. She was hot enough to get you to stand up straighter, but not to make you wonder if you should have spent more time getting ready before coming.

You stayed back and waited for their interaction to be over. For you, this was nothing new. You’d grown so used to watching girls fawning over him that it rarely made you jealous anymore, despite it always being slightly unpleasant to witness.

The bright side was that experience taught you when to worry… and now wasn't the time.

She appeared to be asking a question about game tickets, but you could tell by the look on Harry's face that he wasn't all that interested in chatting with her. He looked like he wanted to be left alone. He was doing that thing that he used to do when random people approached him back when you were together - he smiled politely but barely said a word.

It took the girl some time to catch on, but eventually she got the hint. He wasn’t interested, and no amount of flashing her cleavage would change his mind. She stepped away, and you took it as your cue to walk over.

“Hey.” You greeted as you got to the table, hurrying to remove your scarf and jacket before you took the chair facing Harry’s. Not that there was any other option to pick, anyway.

“Hi.” He smiled slightly, before pushing one of the coffee cups on the table towards you. “I hope you don’t mind that I went ahead and ordered you a drink...”

His gesture brought you back to memories frozen in time, but you didn't allow yourself to linger on them too long. You and Harry used to meet at this coffee shop all the time. In fact, it was once one of your favorite places in town but being here now only brought back sensations you'd rather avoid. Still, for the sake of politeness, you accepted his drink. “Oh, um… thanks. You didn't have to get me anything...”

“I know I didn’t.” He took a sip of his cup, and you impulsively mimicked his action. The coffee which used to taste like love, suddenly seemed almost too dull to drink. “You still like those, right?”

You wondered if he had noticed your grimace. “Yeah, it's what I always used to get from here. I'm surprised you remember…”

“I guess I haven't had enough time to forget most things about you yet.” A twinge of discomfort shot through your chest at his words. You suspect he caused it on purpose. “I have a sharp memory.”

“I'm not sure that'll last if you keep hitting your head like that.” Your point was lost on him, which kind of made you regret making it in the first place. “You've got a bruise… on your...”

“Oh, that.” He tried to mask it with a quick ruffle of his hair, but you could still see it. “That's nothing, forget about it.”

“I wouldn't exactly call it nothing, when-”

“I didn’t ask you to come here to talk about that.” He intervened before you finished. “There’s something I need from you.” He admitted, crossing his arms over the table.

“'All right then, what is it?”

“That jersey I gave you, do you still have it?”

“Why are you asking?”

“I need it back.” His request caught you completely off guard. Your mouth opened and tried to speak, but nothing came out. “Mine got ripped and the spare I gave you is the only one I have left.”

When you finally spoke, it was quickly and angrily. “I'm not giving it back.” You said, and Harry let out a groan. “You never mentioned I was only allowed to keep it until you needed it back. It looked like a gift to me.”

Another sigh followed, this time deeper and more frustrated. “That’s because it was a gift… but now I need it, and I'm pretty sure you're not wearing it, so what difference does it make?”

You crossed your arms and shook your head. “You can't ask for gifts back, that's nasty.”

Why, of all things, did he have to ask you to give back his jersey? It was the most special gift he had ever given you. And now just because he never got to see you wear it, it automatically meant you didn't care for it?

That was simply not true!

Behind closed doors, his jersey was still a favorite.

Frankly, the only reason why you stopped wearing it during games was because you thought it would be demeaning not to. It would have been weird for everyone, plus you didn't think Harry would appreciate you walking around with his number on your back when you weren't together anymore.

Not that people thinking he had a girlfriend would have been enough to keep any hookups from happening if he wanted them to. When it came to Harry, it seemed nothing was ever enough to discourage girls from trying their luck. It wasn't just because he played on the hockey team. That was a bonus, but it was insignificant compared to the rest. His looks, his character, his sense of humor… from the surface, Harry looked like a catch, and finding that he was everything but, hurt. You still loved him, so it hurt. You hated how it all still hurt.

“I'm not asking for any of the other stuff back. I'm asking for my jersey because I desperately need it; else, I wouldn't be asking.” He explained as you sat there, feeling your chest squeeze as you half-listened to his reasoning. “Please Y/N, this is sort of critical for me.”

His slightly pouted lips suggested that he had also not forgotten how to sneak his way inside your heart. It wasn't a difficult task, but it was aggravating how well it still worked.

The worst part is that he didn't even do it on purpose; it was just the way his face looked whenever he wanted something and was told no. It was the same face that managed to get your panties to come off that one time right before a game, despite your fear of getting caught.

“Fine. I'll give your stupid jersey back,” When he smiled in relief, you halted your words, but only for a moment. “Under one condition.” His nostrils flared as he took a long breath, gearing himself up for what you were about to say next. “You'll have to convince your coach to give us our ice time back, otherwise you can forget it.”

“Y/N, can we not do this right now, please? I already told you that I had nothing to do with that shit.”

Harry’s reaction left you feeling oddly disappointed. Not angry, but close to it. That was when you realized you had made the same mistake again. You had been expecting him to be concerned, or at least to act as if he cared. It wasn't his job to care. It wasn't his job to make sure you were happy.

Nonetheless, Harry could still be the key to getting what you wanted.

It didn't feel good to have to coax him into backing you, but it was your duty to do so for Niall and the rest of the skaters. The hockey team had crossed a line, and if this was the only way to stop them, so be it.

He might not be thrilled to help you, but he had the means to do so. If he wanted to get a favor, he would have to do one for you as well. In the end, it was only fair.

“I believe you, but you're the team captain, and I know he'll listen to you.” You took another sip of the coffee you had almost forgotten was there. “I'm only taking a favor for a favor… sounds pretty reasonable to me.”

“Okay, fine, whatever. I’ll see what I can do.”

You cocked a brow at his reaction. “That's not enough. If I can't see any improvements, the deal is off.”

Harry stretched in his chair, crossing his arms behind his neck while he mused. “That's called extortion, you know? It’s a felony.”

Your lips curled as you snorted at his remark. “It's not my fault you got in a fight and need a new jersey; I'm simply taking advantage of the circumstances. Besides, you aren't so innocent yourself... or did you think I couldn’t tell you were trying to butter me up earlier by getting me my favorite drink?”

Harry’s eyes widened with what looked to be confusion and amusement... and perhaps even a little happiness. “You were at the game?”

Your face got warm. “Oh, uh… yeah. I went with Niall. He likes watching sports, so...”

“Ha, I see...” His face turned expressionless. “You're wrong about your drink, by the way... I wasn’t trying to butter you up, I just thought it'd be a nice gesture.”

“Yeah, I guess...” You smiled a bit, before deciding to congratulate him on his team's victory. “You played well yesterday. Everyone went crazy when you scored that goal at the end.” The moment you finished talking, you noticed Harry was slouching in his chair, just staring at you. It was almost trance-like, the way his eyes weren’t able to stop smiling. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” He asked, but then in a sudden move, he got up, picked up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. “I have to get going. I've got homework.”

You didn't really buy his excuse, but you also didn’t question it since you knew he wouldn't tell you whatever it was that was on his mind. “Yeah, okay.” You said instead, despite your enquiring face. “I guess I’ll see you...”

“Tuesday.” He completed. “I'm not sure what time yet, but I'll let you know.”

He was gone in an instant, leaving you alone with nothing but two unfinished cups of sad, tasteless coffee to keep you company.

Tuesday came by quickly.

Amidst the week's rush of lectures at university, runs and yoga classes with Niall, as well as preparations for the championship, you barely registered the days passing by.

As far as your agreement with Harry goes, you knew he had kept true to his word since there were no hulking hockey players in sight that day when you got to the rink.

Given that you had agreed on Tuesday, you didn't bother getting up early the mornings before to check on the rink's availability... and considering that you had the schedule for it over the weekend, you ended up booking that open spot in the afternoon right after lunch for free skating, even though it wasn't the most ideal.

The return to the ice on Tuesday morning, however, was a welcome relief.

The weather was peaceful… the ice was fresh, and you and Niall were able to make progress on a tricky jump that had been giving you the willies as of lately. It wasn’t perfect yet, but at least by the end of the morning you no longer felt like you were putting Niall through the danger of getting a neck fracture every time you leapt onto his shoulders.

Later that day, you met with your choreographer and he too noticed a positive shift in your performance. Having barely been on the ice over the week other than with your instructors, the shift was somewhat surprising... but it also made sense to an extent, since the break had allowed you to focus on other forms of training that you normally considered supplementary – like practicing balance and endurance.

After your choreography lesson, Niall invited you to go to the mall with him.

He wanted to check out a new tech store that had opened there, and since you had nothing better to do than finish the schoolwork you were procrastinating on, you accepted his invitation.

It was a fun afternoon, though you ended up spending much longer than you’d originally planned just browsing around. You barely noticed the hours passing, which was mostly Niall's fault because he had this extraordinary ability to beguile people with conversation topics that were seemingly random but made for weirdly interesting discussions.

His conversation starters almost always initiated with “Have you ever thought about...” and then something crazy would follow. It was impossible to stop the tangents after that, especially if he happened to touch on a subject that you considered to be interesting too. When that was the case, the two of you would just go on and on like a never-ending pit.

This happened several times that noon.

So, despite having been anxious as hell for the better part of the day knowing you’d be meeting up with Harry later, the whole thing had almost slipped your mind by the time he texted you asking if you'd at the centre soon.

“Shit.” You muttered while replying to his message saying you were on your way. “Can you drive me to the sports centre? I need to get something to Harry and I'm too late to walk there.”

“Yeah, sure.” Niall said as you began making your way to the escalator that took you to the underground parking lot. It had become less crowded since you arrived, so finding the car wasn't too difficult. “So what’s going, you’ve been talking with him again?”

“Nothing is going on. I told you about him asking for his jersey back. I'm surprised you forgot…”

“Ah! True, true.” He responded as he climbed into the driver's seat. “I just wanted to ask if there was anything else besides that. I know you aren't fully over him yet, which is understandable, but...” He paused, then let out a sigh. “I guess what I’m trying to say is I don't want my friend to end up in the same position again if you get what I mean.”

“Yeah, I get what you mean.” You leaned back in your seat and stared out the window. “But don't worry, that's not going to happen. It's pretty obvious he doesn't like me, but even if he did…well, as the saying puts it… once bitten, twice shy.”

You talked about something lighter the rest of the way there. Niall wasn’t the type to bring up uncomfortable topics or force you to talk when you didn't feel like it. He usually just listened when you shared, which was good. He still gave his advice if you asked for it, but when it came to your situation with Harry, that wasn't what you needed, and he was aware of that.

What you needed was a friend that respected your decisions, but still cared about your well-being at the same time. A friend who understood you'd want to go meet your ex on your own but still offered to wait and give you a ride home afterward, so you didn’t have to walk alone at night.

The next day, the hockey team was playing outside of town, so there was a big, tall bus parked at the back of the sports centre.. and a shadowy man standing right next to it. The sky had already darkened so it was hard to see, especially on the side he was on, which wasn't getting bathed by the centre’s lights like the opposite one was.

Logically, you knew it must be Harry, but you didn't want to get too close without being sure. It could be the bus driver, or someone who happened to be there for something else. So instead of walking over, you stood at a reasonable distance and cast a wide-eyed glance in all directions, before lowering your gaze to your phone screen to text Harry letting him know you were outside.

But before you could send him anything, you were startled by his voice. “You can come over here, I don’t bite.”

You hoped the nighttime blindness worked both ways because you had jumped a little with the scare, which had to have looked a little stupid. “Oh, it is you! I couldn't tell from back there… it’s er…dark.”

If he saw you jump, he didn’t acknowledge it, instead he asked, “Did you walk all the way here by yourself?”

He seemed concerned that you had, which gave you a warm feeling in your belly. You didn't know what to make of it. “Oh, no. I was at the mall with Niall when you called so, he drove me. He’s parked at the front.”

“Hm.” Harry grunted dryly, which sparked a little awkward pause until he finally asked the dreaded question, “Do you have the jersey?”

“Oh yeah- one second... it's in my bag.” You smiled stiffly before you started rummaging around for it. “I’m not the best at doing laundry so the color might have gotten bit worn off from the washer, I hope that’s not an issue.”

“That’s fine.” He tossed the jersey over his shoulder, disregarding how neatly you'd folded it. “Thanks.”

“Okay, um… you must be pressed for time, so…”

“Not necessarily.” You found the coldness in his voice upsetting, and you couldn't figure out why he was stalling you when he obviously wasn't delighted to see you. “So how’s the situation with the rink, did it all work out?”

“It did.” It was a brief response, but you didn't feel like standing there chit-chatting just for the sake of it. “Thanks, for helping and… I guess for asking too.”

“Don’t thank me.” He said it brusquely, which irritated you even more. “Okay, um… I guess I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Yeah, that.” You curled your lips in a weak smile, and Harry did the same before setting out to go back inside the building. Sadly, upon watching him leave, you couldn't resist calling his name to see his face again. “Hey, Harry-” His head jerked back at the sound. “Have a good game tomorrow. I hope you win!”

He looked like he was about to look away, but he didn’t. Instead, he returned your gaze, as though he was contemplating something. There was a strange glint in his eyes, and it lingered there as he began walking back towards you. And then, wordlessly, swiftly and without a warning, his hands reached for your face… and his lips reached for a kiss.

You squeaked in surprise at the feeling, but that was all there was to it. After Harry’s lips' familiar texture took over, there wasn't much room left for surprises. His body steered yours backwards against the side of the bus, sheltering you from any curious eyes peering through the windows above. “Harry, what-”

“Stop talking,” He muttered against your lips, still laying kisses in between. “I know it's messed up but if we both keep quiet, no one has to know it happened.”

Your throat was itching to respond, but his kissing made your head blurry. His mouth lowered to taste your neck, kissing every inch of skin it swept by. Then, just when you thought it couldn't be any better, his tongue slipped out and found a spot that had you gasping quietly.

The touch of his body was setting yours on fire, reviving it in a way it hadn't been in ages. Your kisses grew hotter and heavier, and before either of you could pause and wonder if this was right, Harry was already fumbling with the button of your jeans - and you were letting him.

“Do you still think of my hands?” You could feel the warmth of his words on your skin as his fingers slid in. His pace was slow, almost too slow, as if he was enjoying listening to the eagerness of your heartbeats. “I think of yours most times; whenever I play with myself, it’s always you… your hands... your mouth... your pussy…”

You both moaned as Harry reached the hot spot hidden beneath your panties. He rubbed a bit around it, in slow and steady circles. “I’ve always loved how fast it reacts to my touch… it gets so wet and creamy, and your clit… fuck, ‘s all puffy and twitchy…” His fingers pressed harder on it, stroking more firmly.

And shit, you were getting there already. So, so close that your entire body was twitching uncontrollably against his. “Please… d-don’t stop.”

“Already? Fuck baby… you haven't been giving it the proper attention lately, have you?” You shook your head in response to his question. It was almost embarrassing how quickly you had gotten to that point, but Harry was right; you hadn't had an orgasm in a while… and of course, he could tell. “I'm not gonna lie, I already suspected that she wasn't being well taken care of, but shit... that's just disgraceful, isn't it?”

You could hardly gather the strength to answer him. The only sound you could muster were a few high-pitched "mhmms" that were muffled against his neck. You groaned when he pushed his fingers in and pierced through your hymen a little too briskly. “Still?”

You felt a little offended by how surprised he sounded but acknowledged his question with a nod. “It’s okay, just breathe…” He whispered softly into your jaw as his motions became gentler.

This wasn’t the first time Harry had used his fingers on you, but usually it was more the outside bits that he focused on. He loved giving oral, so you did a lot of that… the fingering thing only came later once you started having conversations about him taking your virginity. If it were up to you, you’d no longer have it, but Harry had wanted to take things slow. He knew your mind was prepared, but he had wanted to make sure your body was too… just so the experience was painless and pleasurable for both, and not just for him.

The stretching burn you were feeling eased after a while. It still stinged a little, but it wasn’t a bad type of feeling. Slowly but surely, it was transforming into a different type of heat, the kind that spread through your abdomen and got you to spasm around Harry’s fingertips.

He was going to make you cum if he kept on doing what he was doing…

Which he didn't.

He stopped right before you got there.

You stared up at him in confusion, right before you started glancing around to make sure no one was walking out of one of the buildings or approaching the bus. “What- what happened? Why did you stop?”

“Stop with what, hm?” That feeling of disorientation pervaded your mind for a moment, but reality set in once he started re-tucking your jeans back into place with a self-satisfied smile on his lips.

This was it.

He was done.

“That was a cute little warm up, wasn't it?” He shamelessly asked as he zipped up your fly. “It's a shame it had to end so abruptly… you seemed to be enjoying yourself... but don't get me wrong, this has been good fun for me too.”

With nothing to say or do, you just stood there astounded. You were torn between sobbing out of frustration, seeking an explanation, and simply leaving without uttering another word. It wasn't like whatever decision you made mattered anyway since none of those options would accomplish you anything.

The mess had already been made.

You shouldn't have allowed this to happen, and shouldn't have enjoyed it, but you did. It would have been much smarter to put a stop to things right the moment Harry kissed you but, despite the circumstances, you couldn't bring yourself to do it… and now, after everything he'd already done, he was ridiculing you.

When you looked at him again, you noticed that all of the traces of humor that had been gracing his features had dissipated. His gaze felt like steel, harsh and bitterly cold. “You should go. Niall's waiting for you, remember?”

His chest got shoved back by your clasped fists. “You’re an asshole!”

He tried to grab your wrists, but you shoved his chest again. It was enough to make him back down, although he still managed to get a hold of your arm. He used that to keep you from leaving. “I may be.” He spoke right in your ear. “Now you know what it feels like to be left stranded. I hope you fucking liked it as much as I fucking did.”  

PART 2

[matan4il]

Man Suang review

Spoilers! (obviously. Also, this was written after watching the movie just once, to give my opinion as "raw" as possible)

This may seem like a weird spot to start, but I feel like I really can't review this movie properly, without pointing out that it's Moulin Rouge, except set in another country AND another genre. The latter gives it a very different feel (to a great degree, due to tone as well, MS is a serious movie, while MR, even while it does want you to care, doesn't take itself too seriously), but the basic structure of the two movies is too similar, so I have to start there.

In both cases, the movie revolves around (and gets its title from) an entertainment center, which is beautiful and alluring, but also serves as a stage for some of the uglier sides of human urges. This entertainment institution houses performers of low social status, who often also must prostitute themselves to the rich and powerful people who frequent the place. And while the whoring is pretty much built in, and no one bats an eye at it, this setting also allows for some murderous intents to surface. The plot is centered around an exceptionally beautiful and talented, lowborn entertainer, who must sell their body to get by, having aspirations to get a better life through this, and the seemingly simple guy, who is a part of their social circle at this entertainment place, who has his own aspirations, and is not as lowly, which is why he doesn't have to stoop as low as prostitution, and can offer something different. Despite the connection between them, they're both trapped in plots bigger than them, set into motion before they even met, and they have to struggle to find their way amidst all this intrigue, which moves them almost like they were pawns. By the end of the movie, there will be betrayal between the two, but also repentance, and an act of choosing each other over their initial ideal, allowing them to make decisions that are "righter" than they would have, had they not met, and ones that give them more freedom than had they simply served the initial goal they were supposed to. Through that, they gain more freedom and agency. Yet despite that, they don't end the movie being together.

Now, why do I bring this comparison up? Because while MR doesn't take itself seriously, like I said, it does want the viewer to care, and it achieves this by recognizing that they can make a mess of genres, of reality vs hallucination (hello Kylie Minogue as the Green Fairy), of time periods (soundtrack and props that have nothing to do with the year 1900), be as camp and over the top as they wanna be, but if the characters and love story are compelling, we'll all still be riveted.

And that's generally true for every movie. At the end of the day, whatever the genre, we watch first and foremost because someone made us care in some way about at least one of the characters or relationships featured in the film. My fave action movie ever works so well, not because its climax scene is so full of fists (in the middle of a lake at night in total darkness, with the very real threat of the good guy being drowned by the bad one), it hits home because this fight will actually be decided by whether the cold-blooded CIA handler, who had to train the good guy, has come to care enough about him, to be able to tell the two men apart even under these circumstances, and shoot the right person (meaning, the bad guy), saving the protagonist and countless others along the way. It's this test of their (BTW, fully platonic) relationship, that makes up the film's real climax.

So, probably my biggest issue with MS is that it seems to lose sight of that too often. It's so focused on telling us this political mystery, that it forgets at the end of the day, we're here for people and how they feel about and react to each other. The heart of the movie is the relationship between Khem (played by Apo), the entertainer forced to whore himself out, and Chat, the one guy who sees him dancing, but doesn't want just Khem's body. The parts that let their relationship breathe and develop are the best in the movie, they're the ones that feel the most authentic, interesting and impactful. They're the emotional anchor of the whole thing, and even though the movie too often neglects them, and doesn't give them enough time, they just work thanks to Mile and Apo's excellent acting, and their outstanding chemistry. Truly, it's once again a testament of how well these two fit as a team, that they're able to achieve so much, when they're giving too little breathing space for the relationship that is, at the end of the day, the very heart of the film.

The cinematography is great, though I'll admit that I was not that into the colors, I usually like vivid colors, but here they were oversaturated in a way that added a certain sense of heaviness and suffocation to my viewing experience. In a sense, it fits. Man Suang is both beautiful and ugly, alluring and repulsive. Still, I think it would have been a better choice to add the unnatural oversaturation as the ugliness unfolds. First let the viewers be seduced by the beautiful imagery and colors, only then hit them with the ugliness that all of the glitter hides. But then, the movie actually hits us with the ugly bits, with prostitution and murder, in the exposition already. Which makes me think the whole movie could have benefited from a more gradual unfolding of those parts of the entertainment world we're introduced to. Still, I will say that the parts where Khem and Chat get to know each other better, in the market, flying a kite in the field and chatting while climbed up on a tree, they don't have that oversaturation, they get to enjoy more natural lighting, and it gives these scenes a lighter feeling, which does fit. They do seem less burdened in those moments than throughout most of the film. And then the issue with this goes back to... there's just not enough of these scenes, to really give this contrast its own gravitas.

There are scenes which are redundant, they should have been cut out, like when we learn how Tubtim prefers being a whore at Man Suang than outside it. Not that her short monologue isn't touching, but let's be honest, she's not an actual character. She's a plot device, this short scene is only included to set up her change of heart, when she decides to tell Khem the truth, instead of lying. But since this doesn't give her enough depth or her own agency to become a character in her own right, and since she explains her decision to Khem anyway, it's just a waste of time, and it comes at the expense of developing the more emotionally crucial parts of the movie.

And it's not like the movie doesn't know where its emotional weight is. For example, the film's emotional climax, the moment where tensions run highest, is without a doubt the confrontation between Khem and Chat, when they accuse each other of choosing themselves and being willing to sacrifice the other one to do it. It's an effective moment, but I think it would have been so much more powerful, if we got to spend more time seeing Chat and Khem becoming increasingly more important to each other.

For that matter, the real resolution in the movie isn't to the supposed mystery of who has the secret documents and how to get them. It's the resolution of what to do with them, which is where Chat and Khem had clashed. Chat needs the documents destroyed so he and his family won't be punished (possibly killed) for his father's crime. Khem needs the documents delivered to the authorities so that he and his friend won't be punished (possibly killed) for a murder they were framed for. The real resolution of the story is when Khem chooses to burn the documents, so Chat and his family will be safe, and after he leaves, Chat saves them from the flames, and has them delivered, securing Khem's life and reward.

I really liked this part, and again, it felt lighter than the rest of the movie, giving a real sense of relief (visually as well, as there's less oversaturation, and both guys change into nicer outfits, with brighter patches of color). I also enjoyed the more complex POV they offer by the end. They both didn't want the life they were born into. Khem didn't like being of a low socio-economic status, being dependent on the good will of others. Chat didn't want to be a civil servant like his dad. As the movie ends, Khem chooses to stay at Man Suang, turning down the social mobility reward Chat was able to secure for him, while Chatra accepts a position serving his country. Seemingly, they both had to accept their predestined fate. But the fact that they get to choose it now, makes a difference. They see the good they can do, and they're not deprived of humanizing agency. The delivery of this in their dialogues is also quite lovely, with Khem talking about how each type of boat is made for very specific conditions that it must sail, while Chat brings up the fact that now, there are new types of ship, which can defy expectations, and sail in any conditions. They're both right, and they complete each other in describing the place that they ended up in. And the mutual parting, as they both "entrust" something to the care of the other, does reflect their bond.

Still, all of this would have been even more poignant, if this relationship had been given more space. As is, I feel like I even have to guess to a degree why they do care about each other, and why they do end up choosing the other's best interest over their own.

It's a bit clearer with Khem. We see him being exploited for sex, because of his beauty and grace, instead of being seen and appreciated for his talent and hard work. Chat is different. He helps Khem more than once without asking for anything in return, and Chatra also compliments him on his performance. Other than him, there's only one person who seems not to want anything from Khem, his long time friend Wan, but even he ends up betraying and being willing to kill Khem, when Wan doesn't get what he wants from his friend (revenge against all Chinese people). Once more, Chat is different. Yes, he points his revolver at Khem, but he doesn't pull the trigger, he doesn't use the leverage he has in order to force Khem to do what benefits Chat. Instead, he puts down the revolver, and tries to explain himself and his attempt to save his family.

What makes Chat like Khem? I find that a bit harder to answer, though there's a clear and real interest there, which goes beyond Chat's secret mission with the documents. He saves Khem from being discovered during their first meeting, and doesn't ask for anything in return. Chat pays attention to Khem at rehearsals, to his dancing, to his tendency of getting into trouble when not backing down at the face of bullying or injustice... So we can assume Chatra likes all of that. And then he does explicitly express his interest, when he admits to Khem he wanted them to spend that time together at the market.

Which I guess brings me to the question of... okay, so is this a love story? Their relationship is obviously vital to the story, but is it a romantic one? The movie seems to wanna leave it open to interpretation. Maybe it's my hopeless romantic streak, I do wanna see it as a love story. I think there are some hints for that. The mutual interest and liking, even at the stage when they've barely spoken to each other, the way they end up choosing each other even at the possible cost of their own life, the explicit admission from Chat that he was looking to spend time with Khem at the market even when it didn't appear to have anything to do with his secret mission, the way Chat's admission seems to not only make Khem happy, he looks shaken up, there's the kite flying scene, which is played for laughs (flying a kite is apparently Thai slang for jerking off), but still, it's a choice that the movie made, to add a layer of sexual tension there. And then there's the scene where they're trying to figure out who's the woman in red if no one was wearing red on the night they're investigating. Chat steps into the spot where the woman had been, his shirt white, and red light is projected over him. Khem stands in front of him, and they stare at each other for a moment. To me, it serves a double purpose. One is that Khem realizes Chat just handed him the solution to that part of the mystery. The other is that films often illuminate characters in red to show lust and even love. So this might also be a moment when it hits Khem that his feelings for Chat, who's been helping him, who he trusts, run deeper than he realized.

I do think Man Suang would have been braver and better if it had openly gone with the romantic interpretation. It's not just me being an incurable romantic. I also think that, much like in MR, the relationship that changes the course of the two main characters has to be a really strong one, enough for one to decide to give up his life for the other. I'm not sure that friendship quite cuts it, especially when this relationship didn't have that much time to develop (def not enough screen time, but also not enough in-story time). Was love between two men back then a simple thing to admit to? Of course not. But men did fall in love, and even acted on it. I'm not talking here full blown sex. But enough that the audience would know for sure what they feel for each other. On a local TV show, I was reminded that when the small fingers of two people, who are forbidden from any physical connect, do touch, even briefly... something that small and fleeting can still be a confession of deep love and yearning.

Another thing I wish they'd done is make more use of the unspoken tension created by one man dancing to the beat struck by another one. This was so present and delicious in the first teaser released for Mileapo's movie (before it even had a name and a script), I wish they had retained that. It's somewhat present (Khem says he danced so well, thanks to the beat Chat set for him, and then in the scene exposing Tiang, it's Chat's change in drumming that sets the stage for Khem revealing the treason through dance and song), but could have been used so much more. The play between real life and art, the connectedness or contrast between the two men when they're on the same page versus when they're not... There's so much potential for non-verbal drama, and they captured it beautifully in that teaser, so why is it almost non-existent in the film?

I also... I know that the movie is set in the 19th century, and I don't expect 21st century tolerance to be projected back onto it, but I find it hard to ignore that we have one character spew homophobic shit, Khem denying having had sex with another man, basically agreeing it's wrong, and at the same time, men exploiting other men sexually is not looked away from, it's very explicit and built into Khem's story. Each one of these things can be true in its way (there was homophobia, people did have to go with it, there was male on male exploitation alongside this homophobia), but when every explicit thing in this context is negative, while the one positive (the possible love story between Chat and Khem) remains implicit and optional at best, it feels like it unintentionally leans into the homophobic narrative. Take Brokeback Mountain for example. The environment in that movie is highly homophobic, prejudiced, rude and even violent about it. And while Jack and Ennis had a lifelong love story, they couldn't actually live it out in the open because of said homophobia. Ennis in particular would rather punch a guy, than admit Jack was the love of his life. And still, we got to see their love, we got to see that even with all of the societal hardships, it brought them warmth and comfort, and was a reason to risk a lot, even for Ennis, who was so acutely aware of the threat to their lives. I like that BBM was honest in depicting Ennis and Jack having sex, but at the end of it, even without those scenes, the love between them was enough of a counterweight, that it never felt like the movie unintentionally reinforced a negative view of what two men can have together. With MS, I feel like a homophobic casual viewer, who won't get that Chat and Khem saved each other through something that might be more than just friendship, could easily have their negative view reaffirmed.

All in all, I enjoyed MS. I loved seeing Mile and Apo acting together again, I missed that, and their chemistry is just as superb as ever. I'm not sure the movie, getting as distracted from the main relationship as it did, would have worked without their unique addition of beautiful acting and chemistry. So, I would recommend it to friends, but I guess I would also really love to see a better paced, edited and re-focused version of it. Shine, Mileapo's show that will follow in the footsteps of MS, might deliver that. I can't wait to see! ^u^

(if you're curious about any of my other Mileapo/Kinnporsche posts, you can find them here)

[syoddeye]

task force 141 and karaoke. according to me, for shits and giggles. several youtube links below. (thank you @pfhwrittes for your duet suggestion.)

soap always starts with kiss from a rose by seal (the vibe), and drags gaz into it usually with gaz. soap is a…passionate singer. if no one will sing with him, he’ll do both parts.

starstrukk by 30H!3

fernando by abba

hand in my pocket by alanis morissette

torn by natalie imbruglia

gaz is an average singer, has decent range, but a natural performer. he goes for those high notes, but they hurt.

he wasn’t man enough by toni braxton

somebody to love by queen

beggin' by madcon

free fallin' by tom petty (price signs him up for this)

it's raining men by the weather girls (soap signs him up for this)

once they get going, soap and gaz are unstoppable. almost obnoxious.

wannabe by the spice girls (with choreography)

don't go breaking my heart by elton john and kiki dee

promiscuous by nelly furtado and timbaland

as by george michael and mary j. blige

the bad touch by bloodhound gang

danger! high voltage by electric six

price is a terrible singer. someone told him he could sing once and he believed them. if you’ve seen mamma mia, think pierce brosnan. still. it’s karaoke, so he is entertaining when he takes the stage.

angels by robbie williams

don't look back in anger by oasis

you've lost that lovin' feeling by daryl hall and john oates

roxanne by the police (could you imagine the moulin rouge version though...?)

islands in the stream by dolly parton & kenny rogers (with me)

and ghost? conveniently missing. soap will sign them up for something like especially for you by jason donovan and kylie minogue, but when ghost doesn't come to the stage? obviously, soap'll cover both parts. with tears in his eyes.

[chaifootsteps]

What drives me most insane about all the discourse (or lack of discourse) around Hazbin is people trying to act like Angel Dust is the first ever sex worker character portrayed in media as an actual *character.* To say nothing of the fact that he's an utterly HORRIBLE representation. If anything it reinforces the idea of sex work as some bottom of the barrel hail mary for the desperate and horny. Which...no.

You want to know what most sex workers are like??? People. They're like *people.* People with interests and identities outside of their profession. They also have a lot in common with Therapists in that people go to them for comfort and sometimes literally a shoulder to cry on. The old cliche of a guy hiring a hooker only to cry about his problems isnt just for laughs. Listening to people and comforting them is a HUGE part of sex work. SO many sex workers are incredibly kind and emotionally intelligent people and not all of them only resorted to sex work out of desperation.

Angel? He's basically just a sassy, mean, gay twink stereotype rolled together with a ceaselessly horny, drug addled, asshole. Just because we're meant to feel bad for him doesnt make him a good representation.

You know some shows/movies that DO have positive rep? Bobs Burgers, Bless The Harts , GLOW, Firefly, Moulin Rouge, fucking Independence Day and yes I mean the one from 1996, and Sweet Charity which is from the goddamn 60s.

And these are just a fraction of the examples out there.

As a rule (and this is for everyone, not just the dickriders) just because YOU haven't seen/heard of something before doesnt mean it hasn't been done. Stop making all these broad judgements based on your own very narrow experience and do some research, good lord...

Dont even get me started on people trying to applaud the show for queer rep when it's literally just a Yaoi Hentai with musical numbers and twice the exploitation.

I pray to god John Waters never finds out about Hazbin because I don't need the poor man finding out all the work he did for queer culture and media has been set back decades by one spoiled rich white bitch.

And yes, Vivienne is white. Having South /Central American heritage does not automatically mean you aren't white. White is complexion, not a goddamn nationality. If you look and act white enough, you'll get treated like a white person, and Viv is about as white as they come. She grew up in goddamn bourgie-ass Frederick, Maryland. We see you, Viv.

Honestly, at the moment, I think my favorite fictional depiction of a sex worker is Tuca from Tuca & Bertie in that brief window of time she dabbled in it. Did it because she liked it and was good at it, no stereotypical Valentino-esque pimp in the picture, her clients were all regular people too, and she did it online which is something you don't often see in media. Viv could never have written something that grounded and adult.

[comebackali]

top five figure skating routines of all time? not necessarily the best executed or scored but the ones that hit you the hardest <3

oh lmao this is gonna out me as a fake fs fan who's really only been following the sport for the last like... 8 years. there is not gonna be anything on this list before the 2010s, and these are all gonna be the most basic takes. we don't care. we like what we like. i don't know sports, but i think there must be smth about the first athletes you really follow that just makes them a cut above the rest and makes them stay with you forever. so here's that, for me.

allie's top five comfort figure skating routines:

1) tessa and scott's "moulin rouge" at the 2018 pyeongchang olympics:

nothing will ever be this, no one will ever be them. truly the greatest moment in Sport History. the greatest in choreography, in presence, in chemistry. the greatest warhorse, the greatest team of all time. and the best they've ever been!! being able to watch this routine get better and better and then have them preform it the best they ever had when the stakes could not have been higher. the music starts and i get chills over my whole body. also the hugs and kisses after, the moment they find out they win. nothing will ever top this moment for me. you truly had to have Been There Gandalf, that season, their comeback, to understand the euphoria of that moment. literally bottle it and sell it as crack tbh. (also scott mouthing along to "come what may" always makes me fucking EMO lol)

2) evgenia medvedeva's "anna karenina" also at the 2018 pyeongchang olympics:

imma be real with you bestie, this is not even close to the greatest ladies fs routine of all time, and yet it is the routine i end up rewatching the most. something about it. i think to myself, "it's time to rewatch evgenia medvedeva's anna karenina again" a few times a month. and like, it is beautiful. no matter how many times i watch it i am entertained and engaged the entire time by the weird ass swirly swirls. but the emotion, the stakes, the drama. it just makes everything better and more poignant. i watch the whole thing with my heart in my throat. the way she's full sobbing by the end of it, and knowing how it all turns out, just gets me man. 2018 was such a blessed, cursed time.

3) tessa and scott's 2008 world championship "umbrellas of cherbourg"

oh hey look, something from before 2010. in all seriousness all this list is telling you is that i am an ice dance fan first and foremost, and a tessa and scott fan before that. as far as comfort programs go this is probably my number 1. i've watched it so many times. i used to tell people it was my favorite figure skating routine, and watching it again now i'm like, based?? there is something so intoxicating about this routine. they are just little babies!! and the near kiss at the end always sends me into a tizzy. this routine has cast it's spell on me. i am it's humble servant.

4) piper and paul's "hitchcock" routine from 2014 world's:

i can't believe i almost forgot this one. THE CUNT!! THE CUNT!! who the fuck else doing it like these PSYCHOS??! paul's face at the end. literally no one has ever served more face. face card carding or whatever the kids say.

5) yuzuru hanyu's prince routine from 2017 world's:

i can't believe i'm picking (1) yuzu routine and it's this one. i oscillated so much between this one and "hope and legacy" which is obviously gorgeous and iconic, yet here we are. it was my first instinct so i'm going with it. but i have no explanation. he fucks up his quad sal and very nearly falls, adding a double on the end and still managing to serve absolute cunt. at some points you can barely hear the music over the sound of the screams. truly, performance of all time!! the stupid lil vest/pants combo. his cunty lil dance moves. he is truly in his element here. i love him sm.

honorable mentions: elizaveta tuktamysheva's "toxic":

many lesbians were created here

the shib's "that's life" from the 2016 grand prix final:

1000/10 for being hot and turning me bisexual

[your-average-teenage-mess]

I really think Hair was the only big-name popular musical that actually made a radically political statement.

Like, don't get me wrong. There are famous musicals with political undertones (Hamilton, Hadestown, Chicago), there are musicals that love including a historical political movement in them without saying anything about its actual ideology (Les Miserables, Rent), there are musicals that really love using the esthetics of a revolution to look pretty and rebellious and have catchy songs (Moulin Rouge, Bad Cinderella, and, again, Rent), and there are musicals both deeply and textually discuss political subjects, but just don't really name them in a way that could make the audience uncomfortable (Cabaret, West Side Story) but... In all of them, the politics is either subtext, ignorable or both. This isn't to say that this makes a political musical invalid, but Hair is one of the only musicals that genuinely didn't play by those rules.

In the seventies, hippies weren't just an esthetic. They were deeply political. Their drugs were political, their sex was political, their disruption of the social order was deeply political. And so, when you start watching, it looks like it's gonna be an "esthetics of rebellion" kinda story, right? They're making a mess and having a party, woo-hoo! The politics are in the background, obviously, but it's mostly just gonna be because they're counterculture, right? It's just gonna be like Rent, except before Rent.

But then the movie doesn't try and neatly avoid that. The tribe will be openly anti-government in front of the tv, and then in front of their FRIEND, because the personal isn't apolitical, and he's better than the thing the country is trying to turn him into. ("Yeah, I'm ludicrous, I don't want you to go over there and murder women and shoot babies!") And in any other story about war, the scene where the audience is hearing how each solider was killed (Ripped open by metal explosion. Caught in barbed wire. Fireball.) would have served to remind the audience of how horrible wars are EvEn WhEn NeCeSsArY, but here it's just... You're allowed to just say, this isn't right. This is awful, and this shouldn't be, and we shouldn't do this.

And when Claude (or Berger, depending on the version) dies in Vietnam, because he literally could not survive war for his life, this isn't heroic. It solves nothing. He's just brought back home in a coffin, and his friends have nothing to do for his memory other than going to the protests, holding up their "drop acid, not bombs" signs, and... Hoping someone will listen, because that's all they have left to do if they want others to not be sent to meet the same fate he was.

I think that's about as politically radical as the mainstream musical scene ever got.

[sweetadonisbutbetter]

Show/Movies I would show the Helluva Boss characters

This is rlly random but this started with the thought of Blitz liking MLP and kinda spiraled from there.

Blitzø

MLP: I think this one is pretty self-explanatory. I think he would like the ponies and the whole friendship thing. Actuakky think he would bully a brony to get a figure of his favs (and tell them to shower). He would probs love Pinkie Pie. (this stemmed from This Day Aria playing lol)

Spirit: horse.

Loona

Teen Wolf: A show I know nothing about. Just would show it to her. This would probably get me killed.

Alpha and Omega: I wouldn't even get to 10 minutes in the movie. I am dead

Moxxie

Steven Universe (both the shows and movie): Purely because of the music. If anything, he would also enjoy the animation and he would LOVEE Pearl. He would create a teir list of all the songs and rate them.

Sooo many movies to show him, but I would show him, but I have to say Chicago. Once he learns the songs it's over for literally everyone.

Millie

Tbh not really a show, but any crime documentary or documentaries with the baby animals.

Selena (1997): I think Millie would LOVEE Selena, and I also want to instill the hatered ofYolanda into her. That woman could never have too many haters.

Stolas

Any historic romance drama (like Bridgerton): We already know he loves telenovelas, so I also think that he would love the messiness of the relationships. You know how in every season, the main couple would have an arguement and not talk for a while? He is sobbing like a baby LMFAO- Also would show him any romance K-drama, esp the BL ones.

Moulin Rouge: Kinda historic, but mainly bc it has main character death lol he would also enjoy the music.

Striker

Moonshiners: I have no idea what this show is about, probably about people making moonshine. Never really watched it,but I have seen glimpses of it when my grandpa would watch it. Think because of it, he would probs try to make his own moonshine.

The Godfather: He would probs like all the violence lol. it just fits him idk kekw

Asmodeus

Grey's Anatomy: Not because it's a doctor show, but because it's SOOO MESSY LMFAOO- Have y'all seen that one tik tok of the person with the chart of who slept with who? That would be Ozzie. Also think he would love the drama.

(This is for both him and Fizz) Who Framed Roger Rabbit: Do I need to explain??

Alt: Burlesque: rlly don't know how to explain this one

Fizzarollie

Any old cartoon: I think he would like the loonyness of the charaters and would probs would us some of the gags.

Refer back to Asmodeus

Alt: Adam Sandler movies: i just find them funny, plus some of his romance movies are cute

[theplaid-wearingmoose]

El Tango De Geralt ~Geralt x Reader angst~

Another song fic for Geralt? Yes of course. "But Mimi nobody asked for this" you say. Doesn't matter, it's giving me brain rot until I produce it. Yes I am into musicals and that's how i keep coming up with these. You're welcome. If you know Moulin Rouge, I would imagine those settings and characters for this one.

That damn woman. Every time she shows up, she ruins everything.That absolute hag. You hated that damn witch. Yennefer of Vengerberg. You didn't see her often but when she did happen to be in the same town as you, it was like you no longer existed to Geralt. You didn't know what hold she had over him but it really pissed you off. Geralt was finally back in town to see you but when she showed up, it was like you were invisible.

You knew something was up when Jaskier came to see you, looking for his witcher companion. You were finishing up the rehearsals on a sensual piece for your cabaret group. You were one of the lead performers at the large burlesque establishment and were well known throughout the country.

You hadn't seen Geralt all morning. You figured he'd wanted to rest after riding all afternoon the day before and then spending that night with you, showing you just how much he had missed you. Setting off in search for him, Jaskier not far behind, you paused when you noticed a familiar black horse tied up at the stables across the road. "Jaskier...that's not her horse, is it?" Jaskier followed your gaze and sighed heavily. "Unfortunately yes..she arrived this morning I believe. That's why I've been trying to find Geralt. I want to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid." Jaskier admitted.

Your heart dropped to your stomach and you took off running towards your quarters, praying Geralt was still there. Dread filled you when you found your room empty. You took off again, Jaskier calling out for you when he couldn't keep up. You ignored him and headed back in the direction of your cabaret. Suddenly a familiar smell reached your nose. Lilac and gooseberries...her fucking perfume. You followed the smell until you came to the local baths. You prayed even harder as you searched the building for Geralt. Surely, if he was in here, she would be also.

You rounded a corner and came to a full stop. Your eyes widened in horror as you took in the sight in front of you. Geralt was in one of the large pools...but so was she. Her naked chest was pressed to his, her face inches from his. He made no moves to push her away as her hands ran down his chest. Her lips brushed against his, causing you to let out a choked cry of anger. "Geralt?!" You exclaimed, fury filling you. Geralt seemed to snap out of his trace at the sound of your voice. Surprise made its way onto his face and he moved Yennefer away from him. "Y/N-" he started. But you refused to let him finish. You whirled around just as Jaskier caught up to you. "Ah, finally caught you. Did you find-oh..." He stopped as he took in your anger-filled face and Geralt naked with Yennefer in the background. You pushed past Jaskier, tears stinging your eyes as you ran back to your cabaret.

You made your way inside and immediately were comforted by your dancers. They knew as soon as they saw you what was wrong. "It's okay, honey. He doesn't deserve your tears." One of them, Isa, called over to the men who guarded the doors. "Don't let no Witcher in until Y/N says it's okay." She rubbed your shoulders as you cried. Another one of your girls spoke up. "Listen sweetie, you deserve better. You show that bastard what he's missing and then drop him. He wants some other skank, she can have him. You don't need this."

Wiping your eyes, you realized they were right. Besides, you had a performance tonight and couldn't let this ruin the show. You took a few minutes to calm down and relax and then had everyone prepare for the performance.

As you and the girls were getting ready you heard commotion at the front. As you went out to see what was wrong, Frenchie, one of your male leads, stopped you. "It's him sweetie, he's causin' trouble cause they won't let him in to see you. I don't think you should go out there alone." You smiled softly at him and patted his arm. "Thank you, Frenchie. I'll be alright. I can handle him." You gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek and continued out. You saw one of your guards wiping his bloody lip, three more struggling to hold Geralt. "It's alright, boys. You can let him go." You said, staring coldly at him. He ripped his arms free from their grip and made his way over to you. "Y/N, please let me explain." You held up your hand to stop him. "You have nothing to say to me, Geralt. Clearly you've made your choice. Now, I have a performance to get ready for. I'm sure you and your witch have other things to do." You snapped. Your heart ached to be this cruel to him but you wanted to get over him. You turned back to your guards. "If the Witcher would like to see the performance tonight, he is allowed to enter." "Yes ma'am." They answered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Looking out of the curtains you saw Geralt in the audience. You sighed, knowing this performance was as good as a goodbye to him. You wanted him to know how much he hurt you and this was going to do just that. The soft guitar played as the dancers moved to their places. As the violins chimed in and the tango began, you made your way onto the stage. Frenchie was singing his part in his signature growl. You met Geralt's golden eyes briefly before taking a breath and beginning your part.

Her eyes upon your face

Her hand upon your hand

Her lips caress your skin

It's more than I can stand

The dancers moved and swayed around you. The audience was staring at you intently, deeply invested in the story you were telling.

Why does my heart cry?

Feelings I can't fight

Geralt watched you, realization and guilt forming on his face as it dawned on him that this performance was about him. You stared hard into his eyes as you sang out your words.

You're free to leave me, but just don't deceive me

And please, believe me when I say I love you

The dancers whirled around you as the music sped up. You held Geralt's gaze the entire time. The fire from the lamps lighting the stage danced in your eyes. You felt the heat from your anger rise in you. Tears fell down your face, your teeth clenched tight. Your hands balled into fists as you belted out.

Why does my heart cry?

Feelings I can't fight

You're free to leave me, but just don't deceive me

And please, believe me when I say I love you

Your choir sang out their anguished cries of your chorus, cementing the anger and hurt of both you and your character. Geralt's eyes never left your face as the music intensified and the chorus cried out the ending of the song.

The audience stood as they erupted into applause. The only one who didn't move was Geralt. You glared coldly at him, tears falling steadily now, before whirling around and disappearing from the stage. You knew he would try to follow you, but you just couldn't....

You never wanted to see him or that damn witch again.

[aimfor-theheart]

kaeya figure skating au? :O

ANON........you are a genius for this.....need you to know this fr almost killed me. i took psychic damage reading this ask. its haunted me all night. i wanted to get to it last night but it sent me on an ice skating youtube binge watch. specifically watched tessa virtue and scott moire's 2018 olympic routine for the millionth time. then it sent me on a moulin rouge binge. you understand....

i swear i could probs turn this into a whole fic/series.

figure skating au

kaeya x reader

cw: none? sorta rivals to lovers.

∘₊✧───────────────────✧₊∘

this isn't working.

you slam to a halt on your skates, ice flaring and coating your partner's leg warmers with a layer of frost as you stop directly in front of him. just short of him.

the music, this passionate tango of baying strings, blares around the ice rink still.

"keep up," you snap over the music, "you're lagging behind me too much."

kaeya alberich, three time silver medalist, raises his brows. "perhaps you shouldn't rush through the routine."

"you're holding me back—i need momentum for these leaps and lifts."

"i'll guide you into them," he says breezily, "you don't trust me."

"how can i?!" you demand, arms flaring, "when you're always too far behind me!"

the music abruptly cuts off and jean, your coach, finally gets herself onto the ice to try and stop whatever argument has sparked this time. it's been like this since the beginning; since they announced the two of you would be paired together this season.

with your usual partner out on an injury and kaeya's desiring a season off for her wedding and honeymoon, you'd both nearly not skated this year. which, for you, would've been devastating. you'd do anything to stay out on the ice—even take kaeya alberich as your partner.

separately, the two of you are powerhouse skaters. the better half of each of your previous partners; you both can do the more impressive turns and tricks. but together? a volatile cocktail of arrogance and passion.

"what's the problem now?" jean asks, already tired.

"he's lagging behind me!"

"she's rushing the routine."

jean sighs, shaking her head. "you two need to get on the same page about this."

"tell him to speed up—"

kaeya huffs, "tell her to slow down. she's missing beats."

"as always, there's a middle ground here—" she says, then looking to you, "you are rushing a little, some moments you need to let breathe."

kaeya's smile is a satisfied curve, a cat that got it's canary. you feel an angry flush hit your face.

but then jean rounds on him, too, "and you do need to pick up the pace a little—you're peacocking too much on the ice. the piece needs passion, momentum."

"ha!"

"it needs you two to focus on each other." she says sternly, "there's a story here, between you, and you need to tell it. right now it's like you're skating separate routines, together."

after a moment of tense silence between the three of you, jean looks between you. "was that clear?" she demands.

"yes." you both respond, unwilling to look at each other still, though.

"try again. and focus on each other—listen to each other's bodies. skate together."

with that, she turns away from you both, grumbling something about the two of you being impossible. maybe something about divas. finally, you pick your eyes up to meet kaeya's.

"i need passion." you snip.

"i need breath." he replies back. but then he offers his hand to you, "come on."

you take hold of it, the feeling natural now to have his hand in yours, to find their places against one another. the two of you skate back to the center of the ice and resume your beginning positions across from each other.

you look at him, across the ice from you. he looks back. you take your poses.

"just focus on me this time." he calls out to you.

"you focus on me this time." you bark back.

he smiles, an amused curl and vows, "i won't take my eyes off you."

the music starts with low, plucking piano notes. you breathe deep. you keep your eyes on him. he lowers his chin, determined, eye lidded as he keeps his gaze on yours, too.

the first moment of contact is a leap into his arms, a burst of passion when the strings come in. he catches you easily, nimble and strong, as he lets you down onto your skates—then the two of you are moving, swirling, gaining speed.

as he guides you around the curve of the rink, taking position behind you, his hand on your middle, he says, "breathe here—take your time."

you arch into his hands, let him guide the moment as your arms flare in a bird's wing glide. he turns you to face him and you skate backwards.

"eyes on me." he says then, low and only for you, moving with you, gliding, and you—

you pick your head up to really look in his face now, to sway and move and see him. you move around each other, swirling, head whipping back around to keep your focus on him—only him.

the music swells.

your eyes on his. your heart races.

you move harder for speed. a lift sequence is coming up, followed by some quick-style turns.

"catch me if you can, alberich." you call to him, pushing for it.

and in an instant, he's picking up his pace, racing for you with speed and grace and determination. his hands come around you, one beneath your thigh, the other over the curve of your body.

in an instant, you're airborne, skates clear off the ice and flipping backward onto his shoulder. he's got you easy—he's got you fast—and when he sets you back onto the ice, he gives you a burst of speed and you launch from his arms like a bird taking to flight.

your turns are a sharp, brutal set. you keep tight, you keep fast and brilliant.

"come back to me—slow—slow." kayea calls and when his arms find you again, he says, "breathe again here."

and he takes you like that, gliding, guiding, showcasing the arch of your back, the extension of your leg and arms. you breathe with his hands on you here, body flaring.

you can almost feel his smile, turning around him like petals on the wind, like the swirling waves of the sea, or a fire licking around the tree, "that's it." he purrs, "now let me chase."

and he sends you reeling, sends you off with a burst.

for once, you both get through the entire routine. it isn't as clean as it could be but—

jean hollers when the music ends, coming back down onto the ice while the two of you are still breathing hard.

"finally!" she says, meeting the two of you, "a glimpse of hope!"

you laugh, breathless, as you skate over to her. kaeya's hand lingers on your lower back for a moment from the routine, before you feel it slip from you.

"did that feel better?" jean asks the two of you pointedly.

you look at kaeya. he looks back at you.

"a little." you admit sheepishly.

"it's a start." kaeya replies.

jean sighs, but she says, "now listen close—i have critiques—"

and you try to focus on her, but you can feel kaeya's gaze still on you. you can feel his attention burning straight through you, you can feel him at your side and behind you, all around you, like you're still out on the ice.

you can feel him, his voice still in your head, his hands guiding your body through every turn and lift and move.

i won't take my eyes off you.

[exodusmc]

Darling

Genre: Vampire au, smut, 1800s au, moulin rouge inspired

Words: 5313

Paring: Taehyung x Y/n ( female prounouns) X Jungkook

Warning!: hinting at murder, hinting to prostitution, alcohol, oral ( f and m receving), pet names, light dirty talk, penetrating sex without condom, fingering, thigh riding, technically sex in public, biting and blood drinking, more of a dom Tae and sub jk.

a/n: So this idea came from no where and I have based some details on the history of moulin rouge. I was writing smut for Hoongjong from ateez but it didnt really go anywhere so you get this instead. in other news, I'm not really sure what is happening with Baekhyun and exo but i will support them no matter what! ps will post insider soon...

Gif is not mine 

The light around then was dim and a reddish tone. Velvet surrounded most walls and furniture, gold and tassels trying to up the class of the place. Taehyung watched with heavy eyes as Jungkook flirted with some daughter of a rich man. Sweet smoke filled the room and Taehyung popped the first couple of his buttons in his white shirt. He sure was scandalous with only a black vest and rolled up sleeves but it was the whole idea of the club. He could smell a faint touch of sex in the air and any more flirting by Jungkook would sure make it more prominent.  Taehyung's younger friend had lost his tie a long time ago as well and his collarbones sparkled with glitter. 

He stood from his seat and strolled over to the two of them, smirking down to the blushing girl. She was breathless, glossy eyes and under their fingertips. On her chest laid an expensive necklace and he knew they had hit the jackpot. 

“Why don't you come with us, pretty dove…” he grabbed her shoulders, whispering deep in her ear. 

The hunger in Jungkook’s eyes made him look almost insane but that was what Taehyung liked about him, the switch between pleasure and pain. Besides, he too felt the grip slip with the scent of her sweet sweet blood. 

- 

Paris sure was different from London, more cigarettes and pastries, definitely more sun. Jungkook squinted at the gleaming orb, coffee in hand and a frown etched between his dark eyebrows. 

“Sometimes I miss the rain….” he grumbled and Taehyung smiled lightly as he flipped the paper, eyes following the headline. The death of the rich Adaline, the vampires have come to Paris! Jungkook groaned as he too read the title. “ I knew we should have left her somewhere else…”

“You don't need to worry…they don't have a clue of who we are…” Taehyung glanced around at all the people around them.” Where we leave the bodies means nothing as long as we hunt carefully..”

“Sure..” Jungkook huffed out angrily.” But pawning their stuff sure as hell becomes harder when everyone is on the lookout.”

Jungkook dropped the necklace Adaline had worn on the table, leaning back on the chair, chest muscles pushing against his brown vest and white button shirt. 

“Don't be a brat…We don't need money now so we don't need to pawn it in this second…” Taehyung hissed, placing the paper on the table and putting the jewelry in his pocket.” But maybe don't show off it in the meantime…”

“Whatever…” Jungkook started to drink his coffee again, sip after sip which did nothing but make them look more normal. “Where are we going tonight? I still feel hungry.”

Taehyung tsked at the younger boy and his constant hunger. He couldn't remember it being so bad when two years had passed since he turned. 

“I don't know…go look yourself, you’re old enough.” a smile spread over Taehyung’s face at the scowl on Jungkook.

Taehyung wasn't an old vampire himself, only having been immortal for ten years, but he still was Jungkook’s maker and it made him feel better knowing the boy still looked for his guidance.

“I think you can hunt alone now, nothing has gone wrong in a while..” one reason they had moved from London was the growing worry of vampires from the humans and the fact that Jungkooks recklessness caught up to them. He had gone on a spree when he was a mere day and Taehyung was still on that high that had made him turn Jungkook in the first place so he couldn't stop his creation before it was too late. Jungkook had cried so much, still remembering how it was to be human, but it didn't seem to bother him anymore. 

“Well, I don't want to leave right when we got here…” Jungkook didn't trust himself, their feedings still almost always ended in Taehyung needing to pull him off whoever he had seduced that night. 

“No worries Jungkook…just do what you always do and it will be fine..” Taehyung shrugged his shoulders, black hair falling in locks over his forehead while his smile sent chills down Jungkook’s spine. 

-

You were putting the last touches on your costume, fingers playing with the red lipstick and feathers on your head, even patting on your hair. This wasn't your first performance but it was the first time your outfit was like it was. The skirt was red with black details and in the same length it had always been, just like the black thigh highs, but the top…It was a net of pearls and red threads which clung to your breasts and back. One wrong move and it would drop. 

“I don't know about this…” Juliette, a girl who had been here a little longer than you stopped darkening her eyelashes. 

“What?” she wore the same clothing as you but her breast was even bigger. “ It will be fine, besides Charles wants to make it different..”

She stood behind you and started to powder you with the sparkling substance, putting it on your shoulders and  collarbones. 

“Show time girls!” Lynette’s voice jumped between the mirrors in the dancers lounge and you took one last breath before standing up. 

Big lights hung over the middle of the floor and the sides were as full as they usually are, but you couldn't really make out anyone due to the dimer lighting on the sides. The music started and you followed the rhythm with your friends around you, sweat forming as you moved around. Legs lifted and you would never get used to the breeze trailing up your thighs. Turing and doing the splits, up again to lift your leg as high as you could, grateful for the stability of Juliette to your side. Your pulse hammered and you wore that ever lasting smile that was mandatory. The pearls felt like touches over your skin and you missed the more structured top from last week's performance. 

The crowd broke out in cheers, the clapping of their hands buzzing in your ears, as your group to the final pose. Your chest heaved up and down, all the smoke making it harder to breathe. Juliette shifted to your side as the lights dimmed over your head. You always felt this rush to get back to the lounge, take off the smeared makeup and needles holding your hair accessories in place. 

“Good work.” Good, not great…

Lynette watched everyone of her show girls, a frown on her bright lips. Something had gone wrong or she would have been happier now. Maybe a high class patron had shown displeasure or Charls were on her again about making the number…more. 

“Y/n, Chloè, Desiree and Elaine…”lines formed over Lynette’s forehead as she looked through her little black book. You were sure she had her life in that book. “You work the floor..”

Working the floor ment serving drinks to the highest payers and strutting around to make the patrons pay more for special services. Juliette gave you a petty look, her night coming to an end now. 

“I’ll see you later then?” she asked lowly as you started to better your makeup, instead of taking it off. 

“Yes, good night…”the two of you lived wall to wall where most of the dancers had their homes. Small rooms with small kitchens, small everything really. But it was all you could afford, having escaped the threat of working in the industries. 

“Do..do we wear these tops?” Elaine asked ever so carefully, watching Lynette with those wide wide black eyes. She was cute and had this innocence to her but you knew that wasn't the case.

“Yes, now go!” all the girls rushed out and you sighed at the long night this would be.

   You spent most time with a man who owned some sort of mine in another country, a man who was very willing to spend money on drinks and food. He tried to get you to eat and drink but that was against the rules, never take from the guests unless it’s in the form of cash. It didn't mean you had sneaked one or two cigarettes and a little wine in your days there. 

“Now now mister! Please drink up..”your smile was sickle sweet as you got him to drink more, hoping he would become too inebriated to ask for more. There were rooms all over the club, private rooms. You knew that some girls like that aspect of the job but you wondered if their explanations were the truth. 

Most of your customers were in his league of class but on the odd would someone with less money seek you out. Those were usually the fun nights, the nights you could feel like a girl again.

One more hour went by with you on his lap, feeding him and letting him feel the very flesh that built you, until his friends had to help him home. It made you relax, seeing him disappear and the fact that most patrons had their hands on someone already. You had not noticed the shadow in the corner watching you the whole night, not until he slipped behind you. 

Chills went down your spine as cold hands fell upon your bare shoulders, a smile so neat it looked fake. He had dark eyes and equally dark hair. A black suit jacket which followed his toned body until his waist, where it opened to rest by his hips, buttons on his shirt unbuttoned. 

“Are you finally free now, love?” he was english and gleaming under the lights.”Care to join me this time?”

He slipped down on the velvet chair, where the other man had kept you most of the night. But this man held you gently, circling your waist when had been dragged down over his lap. He didn't really smell like anything and was so cold even if you felt like you were burning. 

“Yes of course…”your hand rested on his chest and even the clothes couldn't hide the harness of his muscle. Your smile was back as well but a little more unsure. “ How can I serve you tonight?”

He groaned lowly, pulling you close until he could rest his forehead on your neck. Your pulse started to beat faster as his breath fanned over your skin. You wetted your lips, trying to remember what you were supposed to ask. 

“W-would you like a drink?” he tensed at your words. You had unknowingly asked the worst and best question.”Mr…?”

“Jungkook…my name is Jungkook” he sounded breathless and his hold had turned hard against your skin. You could feel the ghost of his lips on your collarbone and it made your blood sing, rushing to the very place he moved. 

“O-okay Mr Jungkook…” you leaned from him, watching his hazed eyes.”Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Hmm…”he looked at you through black locks, fingers not pressing into your flesh anymore.” Red wine…”

You were on your feet in seconds. He made you feel weird, all gooey and warm. Juliette was superstitious and she had warned you of vampires ever since London had a break out of blood draining deaths. You didn't believe her or the stories but maybe you were wrong. 

Jungkook stared you down when you came back, thighs spread over the seat while he sat comfortably back. You gave him the glass and stood still for a second. Should you run? No, Lynette would skin you alive. The man simply sipped on his drink and watched you with amused eyes. 

“Will you sit back down?” he placed the glass on a dark brown table, patting his right thigh.”Love, please don't leave me cool..”

So you sat down over his thigh, facing his front. Jungkook looked up at you with a soft smile, stroking his thumbs over your waist. People did most things just in the open in the club but full on sex was something people were only allowed to do in the private rooms. Still, this felt way more intimate than anything you had ever done before. 

“Do I scare you, love?” Jungkooks whole face was a trap of concern, everything but his eyes which shone with something brutal, bone breaking.”I don't want you to be…”

“N-no, you don't scare me Mr Jungkook…” you tried to smile but it was stiff. 

Jungkook brought the wine to his lips, drink one gulp before reaching the glass to your lips. You shouldn't drink and you tried to stop yourself from opening your mouth to the pleasant red liquid. 

“Such a good girl.” he smiled, making you drink the last sip before dropping the glass right on the floor. You tensed but no one batted an eye your way. 

His hands found your waist again and started to roll you over his thigh. Air caught in your throat at the action, fingers gripping his suit. Jungkook kept a steady pace, gaze locked on your reddening face. You wondered if he could feel your growing need against his pants or the shuddering of your body. 

“M-mr Jungkook…”you were breathless, shaking slightly when he made it so you landed against his chest. It gave the perfect angle from him to grind your clit on his thigh and have his nose at your neck.

“You smell divine, love..” he groaned close to your ear, moving you in a painfully slow pace.”What’s your name?”

“Y/n…It’s Y/n” you bit your lower lip, trying to stop moans from escaping. Jungkook wasn't in a rush, he took care of you like most men didn't when they were with you. 

“Beautiful…just like the rest of you..” he groaned once again near your ear, nipping slightly at the skin. 

Reality started to slip from your grasp the more he worked you, kisses trailing down to your neck and hands keeping you moving. You were close to crying over the stimulation. One rule was that the clients couldn't leave marks where they could be seen but you didn't have the heart to stop his bites and kisses, not when he made you feel so good. 

Fingers creeped under your skirt until they found your acing pussy. He was gentle as he slipped them inside you but the bite on your shoulder wasn't. You came, sitting back a little on his fingers. Jungkook captured your lips and kissed you until you came down from your high, feeling all empty when he left your insides. You were panting and his eyes were cold. Reality came back as you realised that you were still in the main room. 

Jungkook pulled you back for a harder kiss, so fast you crashed against his chest. It was hungry and teethy, breathtaking. 

“I’ll come back for you, love…”he groaned against your lips, let you sit down and feel how hard he was. “I’ll come and take you home…”

The haze you sat in made you not care for his words, more than that he would come back. 

Jungkook rose from his seat and placed you on it instead, kissing you once more. He held your gaze for a while, fighting with himself for leaving you here but he couldn't stay, not if he didn't want to ruin it all. 

“I’ll come back….”

-

Taehyung woke to the sun filtering through white curtains, the bed wide and empty. Jungkook didn't come home last night apparently but he couldn't hear screams so it most likely went well. However, the calmness was broken when the front door flew up and the aforementioned man came in with distraught hair and bloodshot eyes. 

Taehyung sat with the white bedding over his lap, hair hanging loosely over his forehead and with the sun worshiping his body. He didn't move a muscle when Jungkook threw the door to their apartment shut. 

“Good morning to you too…” he rose from the bed and put on a blue silk robe while his creation started rummaging through their emergency blood. Jungkook drank at least one liter in such a hurry some dropped down the corners of his mouth. Taehyung cleaned him with his thumb before putting the digit in his own mouth.” So tell me, what have you done?”

Jungkook looked at him with wide brown eyes, seemingly coming back to earth. 

“I-I…I found a girl…” Jungkook started and Taehyung couldn't understand why it was such a problem.” She danced at this really popular club and I spent some time with her…”

“Okay and?” Taehyung went to the fancy green chairs which stood by the tall window. Life bustled down on the street under them, the people not disturbed by vampires. 

“I didn't feed on her…” Taehyung raised an eyebrow, a little surprised and confused why Jungkook was in such a frenzy over that.”She..I don't know how to describe it but she smelled so nice and I felt like I would go insane from just tasting her skin. Can you imagine what her blood would be like?”

Taehyung watched him with dark eyes. Jungkook may be a little crazy for blood but not feeding because the idea of the blood felt too good was even crazier. 

“What are you talking about?” the sun lit Taehyung’s eyes to a burning shade, stroking over his tanned skin. 

“That’s the thing! I don't really know more than that she was the best scent I have ever encountered. She was even prettier than the other girls before I caught her scent.” Jungkook fell down on the chair before Taehyung, undoing his vest.” I couldn't stay after I made her cum because I didn't want to destroy the place or her…”

Taehyung raised an eyebrow. 

“I left and went to the forest to cool down…”a disgusted look creeped over Jungkook’s face. “I even  drank from some animal…”

“So…If I understand correctly you found a girl that seemingly has the best blood you have ever smelled and you left her, after making her cum, to eat from an animal?” Jungkook looked sheepishly at Taehyung. “Hmmm, I guess you’ll just have to bring me to her.”

-

You couldn't stop thinking about Jungkook or the whole situation. He had left so fast, left you with aching thighs. You hadn't told Juliette or anyone anything but you felt insane. 

“Come on girls! Faster” Lynette urged everyone to hurry getting ready.

You fixed your rogue one last time and glanced down on your shoulder. Jungkook had bitten you but it didn't look too bad and he hadn't left any other marks which meant you were safe from Lynette. 

The music turned up and you performed the same fast dance again with the same wide smile. Turn and lift a leg, lift the leg higher. It was a sweaty routine but the adrenaline made everything feel great. 

The crowd roared their approval once again and you slipped away with the rest of the girls, catching your breath. Juliette smiled at you, grabbing your hand with a little laugh. 

“Much better this time!” Lynette had something aching to a smile on her face.”Y/n, Chloe, Gabrielle and Gicelle on the floor.”

Again? You would have killed to get home early but the smack of the little black book closing told you that it wouldn't happen. Juliette gave you the same look as last night and you got ready to go out again. However, anticipation followed with this time. Jungkook had told you he would be back, so you swallowed and held your head high. 

People laughed and buzzed around you but it didn't take long before your wrist was captured by a cold hand. Jungkook’s hair was wilder this time around as he dragged you to a dark corner where the red velvet  curtains fell over a booth, creating an almost private room. 

Another man already sat there, sipping on red wine when the two of you walked in. Jungkook didn't waste a second to close the curtains, leaving candles to light the round table. You swallowed hard when the man made eye contact, smirking widely. 

“Hello darling…my friend has told me a lot about you.” his voice was raspy and deep, dragging like a cat’s tongue up your spine. Jungkook stood ridgid to your right.”Come sit..”

The mystery man patted to his left and you slipped down, goosebumps raising on our skin as the soft material touched you. Jungkook sat down on your other side and you felt like a trapped animal. 

“My name is Taehyung and yours is?” the mystery man asked, taking another sip of his wine.

“Y/n…it’s nice to meet you Mr Taehyung..” you swallowed again, feeling your mouth dry. You should tell them that this service would cost but you couldn't get another word out. They were both really beautiful. 

“Only Taehyung…and Jungkook is fine..” he smiled down at you, fingers capturing your chin so he could move your head to the side. “What are you going to offer us?”

Your mind blanked, eyes finding Jungkook’s intense stare. It didn't feel like he was talking about food, drinks or even sex, but you didn't know what else at the same time. 

“A-anything you can afford Mr- I mean Taehyung…” he pulled your head so you could look him in the eyes, lowly laughing at your answer. 

“Well that is great…Jungkook make our darling ready…”Taehyung let you go with a dismissive voice but you didn't have time to think more about him when Jungkook disappeared down under the table. 

You could feel his hands make their way up your legs until they reached your clothed core. He ripped the fabric off you and started assaulting your pussy with his lips, sucking and licking at everything. You barely managed to keep the scream down, leaning into the cushions behind your back. Taehyung made you lean against him instead, watching you with an amused shine in his honey eyes.  He put an arm around you while he poured more wine in his glass. Jungkook worked you closer and closer under the table, forcing your quivering thighs to stay spread. 

“He´s good with his mouth isn't he?” Taehyung smirked at your hazy eyes, drank some wine before he put his lips on yours, parting them so the red liquid could slip down your throat. You clenched your skirt, swallowing every drop until Taehyung left your lips. You came panting, back arching into Taehyung's side.”Shh shh, let it go darling…”

He whispered in your hair, taking deep breaths of you and your rushing blood. Taehyung drank more wine, looking at you with hooded eyes. 

“You should give Jungkook a reward..he has made you cum, twice..” Taehyung nodded down to where the younger one still hid, kissing your groin and stroking your thigh.” Don't you think he deserves it?”

You nodded breathlessly, watching as Taehyung leaned into you with a sinister smile.

“Tell him then, darling. Tell him he can take a sip.” you didn't understand what he meant by that but you whispered that Jungkook could and the man didn't waste a second to bite down on the inside of your thigh. 

Jungkook drank greedily from your body and you should scream or run but a rush of adrenaline turned the sligh pain to pleasure. You threw your head back crying out into your hand. It felt like you were getting off again and Taehyung’s lips on your collarbones didn't make things easier. 

“Now now…We need to be careful with our darling…” Taehyung pushed Jungkook until he detached from your thigh. “Don't forget to kiss the wound…”

Jungkook came up from under your skirt again, mouth covered in your cum and a small string of blood. His irises shone bright red and his plush lips were pushed down by sharp canines. 

“Is our darling slut ready? Hmm?” Taehyung laughed at the sight of his creation but was a little jealous that he got to taste you first deep down.

“Yes and she tastes divine…”Jungkook could suck you dry right then and there but he was happy Taehyung didn't let him. 

“In which way?” the man to your side laughed lightly as he spoke, kissing the top of your head.”Are you ready for the main event darling?”

You gasped as he pushed the wine off the table, placing you right on it. Both men stood looming over you, Jungkook by your head and Taehyung between your thighs. He ripped your skirt in half, left your lower half cool to the air. Long, slender fingers slid down fabric as Taehyung undressed from his shirt, leaving you to stare at his skin. He dropped his slacks and underwear, cock hard and eager for your wetness. His hand found your hips and you could feel the tip of his cock as he moved it up and down. 

“Do you want me in you, slut?” you quivered, eyes squeezing shut as you nodded.”Say it!”

“Yes! Yes I want you inside me, please~~” Taehyung pushed inside your pussy, taking care to let you adjust but it was hard not moving directly in your heat. He groaned over you and rolled his hips carefully. 

Jungkook was painfully hard over your head, muscles on display since he had lost his shirts somewhere along the line. You could see his cock strain against the fabric of his pants.

“Uh Uh…focus on me, slut..” Taehyung left your pussy, just to push completely inside you again.”He has had his fun, it's my turn now.”

He angled his hips in a way which hit a spot which sent stars to your gaze. You moaned loudly, hands coming to grasp his soft hair. Taehyung leaned over you, moved so deep and fast you felt like it was hard to breathe. He kissed between the junction of your neck and shoulder, small small kisses until he bit and pierced your skin. Blood moved from your to him as he fucked you hard on the table. He drank and drank, groaning against your skin. 

Jungkook moaned over your head. He couldn't touch you yet but he couldn't stop himself from stroking his cock at the sight of Taehyung fucking you hard, of him drinking your delicate blood. 

“Fuck…” Taehyung left your neck and smiled at his creations' breathy whisper.”She looks so good”

Taehyung licked his red stained lips, his irises also red now. 

“You were right…” he straightened from your body, groaning as he pushed into you. “She is delicious…our little slut..”

Jungkook gave the older one a hopeful eye and Taehyung felt like being nice today, besides being so hard must hurt. He pushed you closer to the other edge of the table, keeping a steady hold and pace. You could feel him in the deepest parts of yourself. 

“Go ahead Jungkook, use her little mouth..” your eyes widened as Jungkook pushed slowly past your lips, shuddering as you desperately tried to swallow around him.

“So good…” Jungkook petted your cheek with affection in his red eyes. “Such a good girl.”

He pushed until you couldn't take more, gurgling around his cock. Taehyung had been still until he thought you were okay, then he moved with an eagerness that hadn't been there before. He lifted one of your legs so it could rest on his shoulder and it pushed you deeper on Jungkook’s cock. The boy threw his head back but all you saw was hard abs. Teras and spit ran all over your face, your body in their complete control. You felt a sharp pain shoot from just above your knee when Taehyung bit you again, sucking the warm blood from your veins. Jungkook leaned over the table, completely filling your throat and mouth, and kissed Taehyung to get a taste of your blood. His fingers threaded through Taehyung’s hair as he moved in and out of your pussy. 

“Greedy brat…” Taehyung laughed but ended the sound with a groan as you clamped down on him, struggling to breathe slightly.”You need to let our slut breathe Jungkook…”

He left your mouth with a wet pop, cock dripping in your spit as you caught slightly while air rushed down to your lungs. Taehyung kept moving in and out of you, hand pressing down on your lower stomach. You whined out, eyes managing to catch Jungkook’s before he moved back into your mouth. You were pushed between the two of them, listening to the wet sounds echo in your ears. 

Jungkook removed your thread shirt and flicked at your nipples, groaning when you swallowed around his cock. Taehyung loved the sight of your flushed flesh and stuffed pussy, your heat made him almost burst right then and there. Jungkook played some more with your breasts before he leaned down and bit the side of your stomach. They boy couldn't get enough of your blood and he cummed down your throat with one last hard suck from you. The mixture of cumming and tasting your blood made him lightheaded. He tasted saltier than other men but it wasn't unpleasant, not when Taehyung pushed at your spot. 

He grabbed your waist and sat down on the cushioned seat. A dazzling smile filled your vision as he met your falling body. 

“Such a good slut…You did great…” he stroked over your hair, stroked the inside of your pussy. 

You panted over him, head falling back as he sunk his teeth into the top of your left breast. One hand held you up right while the other trailed down to your clit. Taehyung knew he was close so he wanted you to cum for him. It didn't take long for him to get you there, back arching into his mouth while your pussy clenched on him, milking him for all his worth. You almost screamed as you came a second time that night, collapsing into his hard body. 

Taehyung laughed a little breathy over your shoulder, maneuvering the two of you until he could slip out of you. He kissed every place someone had bit you so the wounds would close up. He was very gentle, so gentle that you had a hard time keeping your eyes open or maybe it was the blood loss. 

“It’s okay darling, rest…” he whispered into your ear, getting Jungkook to drape his coat over your cooling body. 

Most of your clothes had been destroyed so the two of them would have to go shopping for you and you would need food, preferably something high on iron. Taehyung smiled down at your sleeping form, cleaning your face a little from smeared makeup and saliva.

“Come on Jungkook, we need to get her back…”

-

You sat up fast, eyes scanning a light blue walled big room. You were aching and only covered by a white silk cover. The sun shone into the room through thin curtains, moving slightly with a soft breeze from the opened window. Memories of last night, or at least you thought it was from last night, flickered in your mind. The crushing feeling of cumming and sharp teeth. You looked at your thigh and could see two faint marks on it but if you didn't know to look there, they would be almost undetectable. 

The door was suddenly pushed opened and in came the two men in your memories. Jungkook smiled wide and Taehyung came to kiss the top of your head. 

“Morning darling, slept well?” he let go of his bags, fabrics poking out of them. 

Jungkook dropped his outerwear and vest, crawling up the bed until he could pull you close to him, face resting in the crook of your neck. Taehyung did the same and took your other side, stroking his fingers over your covered stomach. Red eyes flashed in your mind and you realised Juliette had been right.

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Ep2 Musings - At the Chateau

More random musings; this time specifically about The Hunt at the Chateau.

I hate these two wenches specifically, but NGL, they look cool here.

Ohhhh, AMC knew what they were doing, going RIGHT for my ovaries! 😍 DADDY TUAN PHAM! 😍😍

Sincere is one thing. HONEST is another, though. Y'all knew those Americans were sus, Armand. They're not buying that "Bruce" BS, Louis, don't sleep on them!

I am SO BUMMED that we didn't get to SEE this scene; I was so excited!

Now I'll never get to see Louis so bored out of his skull by Santiago's thespian charms that he starts snoring in the middle of the play. U_U

Mr. I Could Not Prevent It, what were YOU doing to protect your man? You slaughter random innocent fledglings just for blinking, but you let your whole coven plot Louis & Claudia's demise right under your nose?

Bull frikkin crap!

Daciana been knew. U_U

Who is the coven LEADER, and the coven MASTER?

"COMPLICIT" finna be my favorite word this season, istg.

SO well said, Louis; as this beastly monstrous coven has TWO heads, these SNAKES, this immortal Hydra that only dies when Hercules cuts its head off and cauterizes the wound.

I am SO ready.

I loooove this transition frame; the Moulin Rouge as the most famous French theatre in pop culture, as Louis snaps his sad photos and Claudia whoops and the Theatre Louis sets on fire takes them hunting to a chateau they'll set on fire.

Reminds me of what Lestat said: "there is a veil between us; but it is a THIN veil." Louis will never be "one" with y'all. He's already bound by "a cord you cannot see, but it is real;" all your Mind Gift's mindscrewing can't un-screw Lestat out of Louis' blood! 😜 Louis drags that camera EVERYWHERE, ducking behind the lens, seeing the world thru a Glass Darkly; a warped perception of time & space. Cuz he's STRUGGLING; looking for God; looking for ("the wrong kind" of) love in all the wrong places.

Look at the things he takes pictures of! He's documenting DEATH; a MASS MURDER--"you are chronicling a suicide"--as the coven rides their bikes to the house they're gonna KILL everyone in. This isn't a mere road trip; this is a HUNT.

Equestrian statues & triumphal arches--monuments of blood-soaked imperialism & colonialism.

Hedonistic bacchic revelries. "I want food, I want sex, I want to go home."

Meanwhile, Claudia's high as a kite, on cloud 9.

EVERYBODY, Claudia? As they pan to Louis? "I hate you both!"

I wanna throw up when I remember Claudia's ashes got mixed with the coven's when the Theatre burned down. U_U No justice, and no peace. Claudia, I would've become the most notorious Parisian poltergeist in history--the Pope himself would've had to come up to perform the exorcism, on god I'd make my death everyone's problem.

But the LOOK on Louis' face, omg.

Whole 5 stages of grief in reverse:

Acceptance: he TRIES to "be one with us," taking on the "collective hunger;" smiling (fake AF) as he tries to soak in Claudia's ecstasy; riding in Armand's sidecar, flirting with the "Maitre," cozying up with his potential new beau

Depression: knowing full well he hates the rampant bloodlust & violence, the carnage in the chateau on fire behind him

Bargaining: Mr. I Only Eat Once Every Other Day, refusing to take part the the slaughter but still standing by--you are all COMPLICIT--while they were being killed; and agreeing to have Armand teach him how to be a better killer by honing the Mind Gift, etc.

Anger: The Fire Gift WHENNNNNNN? Foreshadowing AF! Claudia, you WILL be avenged!

Denial: Lestat WHO? Being told straight to his face that Armand knows he's lying, knows he's been collecting alimony & child support checks from Roget, knows Claudia wants to join the coven that set up a frikkin shrine to the dude, knows Santiago's a cheap imitation of Lestat, knows DreamStat's gonna keep haunting the narrative, I can't

An EFFED UP Gothic Romance.

The book stans who keep complaining about this show are just willfully ignoring what AMC's doing here. There is PLENTY we can complain about absolutely! But overall this adaptation is a slam dunk.