#everyone came dressed as vampires priests and vampire priests

[calamaroo]

1. Normal AU --- just the Octonauts but with my headcanons and such

2. Pirate AU --- juicier lore, everyone's a bunch of pirates (my fav) (look at Barnacles little ears, augh my heart)

3. M.M.Barnacles AU --- everything's the same except Barnacles is a mountain man and Kwazii is the captain (Barnacles limited speech is part of the lore; he forgot how to talk during isolation)

4. Monster Hunters AU --- edgy joke au where Barnacles is a werewolf-bear moonlighting as a priest and they hunt monsters (came from a doodle i made on a whim imagining kwazton dressed as a vampire and hunter for Halloween, and it sticked; i haven't made any art of, but i do wanna eventually, i just need to think out the lore more) (lemme know if you're interested in this one)

[firestorm09890]

stray canto vii part 1 thoughts (warning: long)

so many cool new designs!! it made me realize how few of interest we got in Canto VI. Then almost everything was pretty standard (classic maid and butler outfits, lots of suits, Cathy had a fancy dress at least? and everything was brown. yes I know, T Corp color drain, but still. and Öufi came before season 3 ended so that didn’t count), but this time we have Camille, the P Corp guys, Fanghunt Office, Hugo I guess, Hong Lu’s sister, the firefist guy? if he counts? he barely appeared, Sansón, and all the fancy dressed up bloodfiends. woo babey!!

speaking of Jia Xichun, I like her! She’s cute! I didn’t expect to see anyone related to Hong Lu, but in retrospect I probably should’ve, since his turn is next and his family is massive. I hope nothing bad happens to her. I've never read Dream of the Red Chamber

also speaking of Hugo, lol. lmao. when he was talking about pressing the button to get the reward I was like “oh hopkins 2, got it” and then Ryōshū sliced off his hands so I guess… not hopkins 2

ALSO the blonde Fanghunt guy is named Romero, which is apparently the name of a character in Vampire: The Masquerade. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was an intentional reference

Sinclair cursing that one guy out was so awesome. I remember when Canto V part 2 came out and he censored himself saying “Bitch Brother” people were worried that the new translators were making him softer than he actually was, but, nah, he tries his best to be a polite boy but when he’s actually genuinely pissed off he does not hold back. Ryōshū correcting him BUT THEN SAYING HIS INTERPRETATION WAS GOOD absolutely killed me. my son demands respect

it’s a good day to be a Leviathan fan

The scripted loss encounter was so cool. They set you to level 45 no matter what level your LCB Don is, and take away all your EGO except the base (which you can’t even use), and I don’t know how far you can actually get in this fight because I flipped tails every single time and lost every clash

let’s talk about the Barber! leave it to Project Moon to look at the character who didn’t have very much of a personality who stuck around with the priest and attempted multiple plans to bring Don Quixote back home so he could become sane again (and burned a bunch of Quixote’s chivalry books, also with the priest), and turned him into an insane vampire woman with big scissors and a shrill cackle who stitches masks onto people’s faces.

interesting choice to have Sancho and Dulcinea both named in a single line and then not acknowledged or mentioned again

Sansón! so based on his story log portrait background being bisexual, the blue name, and him resembling someone in Demian’s group in the Limbus Company PV, I feel confident saying he’s part of Demian’s Group. The spot where his Sign would be is covered by his mask, though, so no one in-universe knows

I think this is why Sinclair was cast in the role of the Knight of the White Moon: he also has the sign, which Sansón (who is the Knight of the White Moon) would be able to see, and even if other sinners have it too, they’re not Demian’s special guy. everyone else, though, seemed to be cast in the most humiliating role possible: horse to be ridden for Gregor, wild animal for Heathcliff, random peasant for Rodya, presumably homeless old person for Outis

ok Sansón. in the book, he’s a young college student who read the first part of Don Quixote and, in part 2, approaches Quixote saying he’s a big fan and encouraging him to go back out and do more knight stuff. However, he actually just thinks Don Quixote’s antics are very amusing and isn’t actually an earnest supporter, and is conspiring with the barber and priest to get Quixote back home to stay. the way they (priest and barber try to bring him home in part 1 is by tricking him with an adventure that’s conveniently in the same direction as their home village, but then they get sidetracked in an inn for a long time so they just put him in a cage and drive him home. in part 2, they want to play on Quixote’s terms for a more effective result. near the beginning of the second part, they have Sansón dress as a knight (called the Knight of Mirrors/Knight of the Forest. these titles have no significance in the book but apparently the mirror thing forces Quixote to see himself as the frail old man he is in Man of La Mancha), say his lady is fairer than Dulcinea to get Don Quixote to duel him, and then make Quixote promise to stay home for a year when he loses. however, Sansón is the one who loses, because he wasn’t expecting Quixote to actually be good at jousting. Later, near the very end, which iirc is 3 months after the first encounter, another knight called the Knight of the White Moon issues the exact same challenge to Don Quixote (it’s just Sansón again, and "White Moon" has no significance in the original book either), but this time Sansón wins, so Don Quixote goes home, dejected, and then becomes “sane” again and dies.

Since this Sansón is part of Demian’s group, I don’t think his intentions will be the same- the Barber was a bloodfiend, and he sees beyond the ambitions of the bloodfiends now- but it’s fun to know how he is in the source nonetheless

I really like how he didn’t show up after the Barber’s defeat to say something cryptic and then leave, he told us quite a bit, and though his methods were… questionable, he DID force the sinners to actually finally pay attention to Don Quixote

speaking of the stage play, I like the juxtaposition between Sansón’s play and the Barber’s. in a different context, what Sansón did might’ve been framed as horrifying, and we’d be talking about how uncanny and unreal this is, but I don’t think that’s the intention here. the sinners might be playing roles, and all the enemies are cardboard cutouts, but it’s better than putting targets on real people (though I guess they’re not “people”, they’re bad, bad, bloodfiends). the cheerful music in La Manchaland is distorted and out of place, while the stage play is nice in comparison. the music for the talking sections is a bit too upbeat for the situation, but the music during the battles really immerses you. guitar! trumpet! maraca! this music is clearly composed to emulate spanish music, and it’s very earnest, which I think is important, with how easily music sets tone in media.

in both cases, Don Quixote is in a delusion. nothing in the stage play of her adventures is real, but she’s also completely wrapped up in the narrative of evil bloodfiends without the knowledge that she is one. a violent nightmare and a peaceful dream, both of which she needs to wake up from.

they both do this thing with black-and-white thinking, too. there’s a difference between the “good” bloodfiends, which you should get along with, and the “bad” ones, which you need to kill (though Don sees them both as bad), and then the bandits in the stage play are cartoonishly evil and love to bully the weak. except it seems the first is the narrative the Barber wanted to sell, while the second is Don Quixote’s reality… I mean, the play is definitely inaccurate, but we’ve seen how Don behaves

if you follow me for kingdom hearts and are for some reason reading this you know how much I love Nobodies in kh. people who used to be human, but aren’t anymore, who look close enough but are different on an intrinsic and physiological level, that everyone automatically treats as unreasonable monsters that need to die when they’re more complicated than that… I love it so much, I’m cheering and clapping whenever bloodfiend morality is brought up. Moses said that Larierre was cordial and offered her a place to sit and talk, but then also said bloodfiends are insatiably hungry and you shouldn’t underestimate them. agh I love it

also THE MUSIIIIIC every fight theme so far has been a banger. songs that were already good but with typical carnival instruments, big brass swing, the aforementioned nice spanish music, and the fucked up and evil sequel to dubstep electroswing featuring evil laughter

and finally, the helm of mambrino. in early part 1 of Don Quixote, he sees a barber (COMPLETELY unrelated barber to the other barber btw) carrying a basin on his head, and thinks it’s the amazing mystical Helm of Mambrino, so he attacks the barber and steals the basin. Don Quixote wears it as a helmet a few times and everyone thinks it looks really stupid. they did not fight a bear for it, nor did they go into a cave. idk what this might actually be in the City. either we’ll see or we won’t

[anonymousewrites]

There's a Will; There's a Way Halloween Special 2024

Dazai Osamu x Reader

Chuuya Nakahara x OC

Halloween Special

Mouse Note: Happy Halloween to all! I hope for more chapters to come soon, we'll see!

            “Happy Halloween, everyone!” greeted (Y/N) as more people walked into her apartment—and Dazai’s at this point (they had basically moved in together at this point).

            “Happy Halloween,” said Atsushi, smiling. He had dressed up as a werecat, and Akutagawa stood beside him in a priest costume.

            (Y/N) smiled at both. She had stopped thinking it strange that Akutagawa always accompanied Atsushi to these sorts of things. Honestly, they came as a pair these days.

            “You look really nice,” said Atsushi.

            (Y/N) smiled. “Thank you.” She was a fairy, complete with the flowery green dress and the crystallized wings attached to her back.

            “She always looks nice,” said Dazai, appearing behind (Y/N) and throwing his arms around her.

            (Y/N) smiled and covered his hands with her own to complete the hug even with him behind her. Dazai had on long blue and purple robes—a wizard. (He had to go as something magical to fit with (Y/N), after all).

            “Thank you, my dear,” said (Y/N), turning their head and kissing his cheek.

            Dazai grinned widely, proud of getting the affection.

            “Hi, Dazai,” said Atsushi, smiling.

            “Hello, Dazai,” said Akutagawa.

            “Hey, Atsushi,” said Dazai.

            (Y/N) frowned and pinched his hand.

            “Hello, Akutagawa,” said Dazai. He pouted at (Y/N), but she just raised a brow. When she was around, Dazai wasn’t allowed to play his games with Akutagawa when the boy tired to get his attention.

            Akutagawa brightened at being acknowledged.

            “You two can help yourselves to any candy or drinks you want,” said (Y/N). “We’ve got music, too, but I don’t know if you guys like dancing that much.”

            “Thank you,” said Atsushi, smiling.

            “Yes, thank you, Miss (Y/N),” said Akutagawa. He didn’t want to be rude to Dazai’s girlfriend.

            “Of course,” said (Y/N). “And just call me (Y/N), Akutagawa.” She watched the two boys walk farther into the apartment. “I wonder what’s going on with them. They’ve gotten close.”

            “They’re like Chuuya and I, a talented fighting force,” said Dazai, shrugging.

            “Uhuh, so they’re definitely…into one another?” said (Y/N). “Like you and Chuuya?”

            “…I never told you that,” said Dazai.

            “Everyone who meets you knows you two at least had some messy feelings,” teased (Y/N).

            “You don’t care?” said Dazai.

            “You’re not the type to cheat, so no,” said (Y/N). “Plus, Chuuya is cute.”

            “Hey,” whined Dazai.

            (Y/N) laughed. “I can say that about Akira, who Chuuya is interested in, and you have to agree with that.”

            “Fair enough,” sighed Dazai. He paused. “You and Akira—”

            “We definitely had a moment, but it was more just fun. We’re not interested in each other in that way,” said (Y/N). “You know that.” She laughed. “At this point, you and Akira need to kiss, and Chuuya and I need to kiss, and then we’ve completed the square.”

            “You’re spending too much time with Akira,” said Dazai, chuckling. “That sounds like her idea.”

            “There’s a reason we get along,” said (Y/N), turning around in his arms. She nodded to the kitchen. “But you don’t need to worry, look over there.”

            Dazai glanced over and grinned.

            Chuuya, dressed as a werewolf, stood with Akira, dressed as a vampire. Chuuya was trying desperately not to look at the cleavage showing in her low-cut dress, but with Akira in heels, Chuuya’s…shorter stature meant his eye-level was precisely there.

            “They’re still working things out?” said Dazai.

            “If that means not communicating feelings but flirting incessantly whenever they’re near each other, then yes,” laughed (Y/N). “But neither is like that with anyone else, so it’s pretty clearly a relationship to everyone else, if a bit messy.”

            “I’m going to hold this over his head,” said Dazai, grinning.

            “I’ve still told you no,” said (Y/N).

            “But it would be so much fun,” said Dazai.

            “You have enough on Chuuya already, I’m sure,” teased (Y/N).

            “Fair enough,” said Dazai, grinning. “I’m assuming you also have things on Akira since you’re so close?”

            “Oh, yeah,” said (Y/N). “I know way too much about her.” She laughed. “But she knows the same amount about me.”

            “Anything scandalous?” said Dazai, smirking.

            “How dare you ask me that?” said (Y/N), pretending to gasp. “I’m a lady.”

            “I’m sure,” said Dazai, his hands dropping to her waist. “But you’re my lady.”

            “Am I?” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “Of course,” said Dazai. “You’re mine, and I’m yours.”

            “I like that trade,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “I do, too.” Dazai leaned in and kissed her.

            (Y/N) let him drag her closer and kissed him return. “I love you,” she whispered against his lips.

            “I love you, too,” said Dazai.

            These were the moments that mattered the most—the small ones. The domestic ones. The times where (Y/N) and Dazai were just together and happy with their family and friends around them.

Taglist:

@snowy-violet

[misslavenderlady]

Okay it's just been eating me up and I'm curious if you've ever considered... Bree in the White Wedding AU? 👀

Like, imagining her in the shoes of being the Bride/sacrifice, hows our girl holding up... And what about her and Michaels relationship like after ever? What would her gown or wardobe look like? Who's she closest to of the boys? And is she destined to a terrible fate, or does she find love in these vampires she's trapped for eternity with??

Sorry if it's a weird question, I've just enjoy thinking about Bree and her boys so deeply it hurtsss 😭 Even without the WW AU involved I love how mysterious and romantic the boys are with her and hiding their identities away with strange dreams and secret gifts at her window... 🩷🦇

CHERRYYYYYYYY ILY THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK!!! I'm so honored that you love to hear about my girl Bree!

So I've thought a lot about this, and I tweaked a few things. Both with Bree's story and the setup for the boys.

Some things I wanted to do for this was to lean into myth of Persephone and Hades. The boys see Bree as this sweet, perfect lady that they wish to take away for themselves, and Michael is trying to protect her from them.

In this au, Michael never pursued a career in medicine since he became a man of the cloth. As a result of this, Bree never had anyone to help build her up on her worst days while working at the doctor's office. She felt very alone and suffered a terrible depression. She only had her books to keep her company, and it made her heart ache for a new life. A fantasy where she'd be taken away from the pain and stress and enjoy life on her terms.

READ MORE BELOW

One day, the supervisors at her workplace announced they would all be doing charity work for National Nurse's Week. Everyone had their own projects in mind for what they'd do to help others, and Bree was no different. She wanted to do something out of her comfort zone for her own project.

She decided to volunteer at the local church as a candy striper. Wanting to go all out for this, she dressed in a cute uniform and put together a cart full of goodies. After church service, she invited everyone to take something to help brighten their day. The kids in particular loved it, begging her to come again sometime soon.

Little did she know, this would catch the eye of one of the priests, Father Michael. Bree was enamored the moment she laid eyes on Michael, though she knew she could never act on such feelings since he was a priest. However, Michael was quite fond of her as well. They spent hours after her volunteer work walking through the corridors and garden paths of the church, bonding over the things they had in common. For the first time in a while, Bree felt like she had someone she could call a friend.

Acting on the wishes of the kids, she made a habit of coming to the church once a month to be a candy striper and hand out treats to all the guests. She even started writing notes with positive messages to help brighten everyone's day. Michael truly admired her kindness, feeling hopeful for the future.

It got to a point where Bree would even visit the church after her shifts. She got to meet Michael's family members and found them to be quite lovely. Michael enjoyed the time they spent together, and found himself wondering what it would be like to leave behind his faith and promises just to be with her.

But little did he know someone else had their sights on Bree.

One night, Bree came to the church to drop off an early birthday gift for Michael. The main entrance was locked, so she decided to look for an alternative way in by taking a shortcut through the back. It was connected to a demolished chapel from long ago. A flourishing garden with hauntingly beautiful flowers. She decided to explore the area, admiring the flora.

In the shadows, something was watching her. Four sets of eyes. She could feel a gaze upon her, but didn't see where it was coming from. The chill in the air seemed to call out to her. Almost like a voice was saying her name ever so softly.

Bree....come home....come to us....

Michael appeared mere seconds later, just having come out to finish some work for the night. He grabbed Bree, and made a run for the parking lot. He pushed her toward her car and begged her to drive home as fast as she could. He even gave her a crucifix to keep on her at all times. She was confused and overwhelmed, but Michael only told her never to return when the sun was down.

Bree was confused by all of this, and spent the rest of the night wondering what happened. By the time she fell asleep, that's when the dreams began. She dreamed of four handsome figures appearing to her, telling her sweet nothings. How they admired her kindness, how they thought she was beautiful, and how they'd take her a way from this cruel world. She'd never have to be alone ever again. They'd treat her like the queen she deserved to be.

In the morning when Bree woke up, she went to open her curtains to let in the sunlight, and found something on her windowsill. A rose from the church garden.

Over the course of several weeks, a pattern formed. She would try to talk to Michael about what happened the night in the garden, but he would shut down the conversation. She had more dreams from her visitors and find special trinkets and gifts at her window the next day.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She needed an answer to this mystery.

She ventured out into the garden, bringing her dog Pepper with her for protection. A voice spoke to her from the shadows in a voice she recognized from her dreams. It beckoned her to join them. To be theirs and that they'd take good care of her. Before her appeared four handsome men. David, Dwayne, Marko and Paul. Bree's heart was racing in her chest, especially when David took a clawed finger and slashed the twine that her crucifix was attached to.

Pepper broke from her leash, frightened by the creatures interacting with Bree. She ran off into the church, whining and barking to get help from anyone who could hear her. Michael had burst out of his office, alarmed by the noise. He followed the dog outside to see what was going on.

Michael had tried to stop them from taking her, but he was too late. David scooped her up in his arms, and took off into the depths of the ruins. The last thing he heard were Bree's screams and the boys laughing evilly.

The boys originally planned to make Bree a sacrifice when they first began spying on her. They wanted to use this sweet, darling human to grow their powers and become mighty vampire lords. They even planned to sacrifice her on the church grounds so Michael would be a witness. But things changes the more they observed her in her dreams, the more their bloodlust turned into love.

They had true feelings for Bree and wanted her to be their bride. Their queen. Their vampire lady.

It's been a very difficult situation for her. Bree's life was completely torn from her. She knows she'll never be able to go home or see her family. She had to come to terms with the fact that monsters were real. It was all terrifying. And yet....it was also fascinating.

Bree knows very well that her situation is messed up. She'd never wish for someone else to be in her shoes. But the boys truly do take care of her. They pamper her and give her whatever she asks for. They each take turns courting her and getting to know her, showing their devotion. They even give her a shoulder to cry on whenever she recalls the memories about her stressful time as a nurse.

She can't deny that they do treat her well. They dress her in a flowy, soft dresses with flowing sleeves. Something innocent looking and comfortable. They often put flowers in her hair to make her feel extra pretty. They even gift her a vampire's amulet so even when they give her space, she has protection.

Michael is....not happy with this setup. He doesn't have the power to defy these vampires and their wishes. He longs to free Bree from them and give her back her life. If they keep her, then soon they'll want their wedding to take place, which means turning her. Michael also feels that he can't be with her since he's a priest. He's in love with her, but there are just so many problems keeping them apart.

Despite the face that Bree does develop feelings for her vampire grooms (the strongest of which she feels for is Dwayne given he was the most gentle and patient with her in the beginning), she still has a lingering crush on Michael. He's the one taking care of Pepper for her while she's away, and she can't stop thinking about all the quality time they spent together. However, she worries that the boys will never want to share her with him. Plus she harbors guilt for having feelings for a priest.

The boys have big plans to make her the ruler of Santa Carla. A queen amongst all vampires. In their eyes, she's already one of them and she has quite the potential to be a powerful being. Even if it takes a long time for her to come to terms with it, they'll stand by her side forever.

[littlelesbinonny]

The Devil's Den

Chapter 21: In Which Strings Are Tightly Twisted

You can read this also on Ao3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46831621/chapters/117962293

The weekend was almost over which meant the long visits between the two of you was coming to an end, which Alcina disliked greatly. But the last two nights had been wonderful, as always.

For the first time in a long time her mind was noticeably mellow. 

She was stretched out on her cream colored chez lounge enjoying the quiet, puffing slowly on her cabriole as she watched the ornate ceiling above do absolutely nothing.

Alcina was becoming more and more grateful for you as time continued on. The circumstances of reality slipped through her fingers when she was with you; she was feeling awake, strong and tall in the present, alive and free. You were freeing her mind, her heart, her long dormant passions and drawing her back into what she thought she could almost remember life feeling like.

She smiled.

A soft knock at her bedroom door rattled her thoughts loose and she sat up.

"Yes?"

The door was opened slowly and Daniela's innocent grin greeted her.

"Mamă, mătușa Donna este aici." (Mother, Auntie Donna is here.)

Odd. It was easily 10 or 11 in the morning by now. What a perplexing hour for her to visit.

Alcina nodded, "arată-i dragostea de studiu, spune-i că voi fi acolo pentru moment." (show her to the study love, tell her I'll be there momentarily.)

She sighed heavily as she rose, donned her white robe, ruffled her hair and made her way through the manor to the other side where Donna was waiting patiently by one of the many bookcases.

"Donna, my apologies for the delay. What brings you at this hour?" Alcina asked with a soft smile, closing the big red oak door behind her.

Donna was dressed in a usual tight fitting, plain black dress. Hair done up in a loose but beautiful bun, her dark brown locks curled and pinned on her head with precision. She was nothing if not meticulous.

"I came to tell you I found the culprits responsible for disturbing the priests, as you had asked me to look into."

"Ah, and who was it?"

The rolling of her eyes was an answer all its own and they began to chuckle.

"Angie, and a few of the younger lycans. Apparently they've been terrorizing several people recently. I, of course, have spoken with her."

Alcina folded her arms and shook her head with a smile, "it is still wondrous to me the two of you are related at all."

"The irony is not lost on you or I," Donna laughed.

The lightness died out. Alcina knew from the moment she walked in that there was something else; this news required only a phone call, there was something much more pressing for her to come all the way to the manor. Donna couldn't hide a thing from her, that was her only downfall.

"You didn't come here to tell me just that, did you," she said, watching Donna's eyes harden at the rhetorical question.

Her sigh was telling enough.

"I'm afraid not," Donna began to twiddle her thumbs slowly as she walked towards Alcina, only looking down once before she was much closer, "the news from Karl reached me only this morning. There has been some odd activity in some areas outside of New York. Mitch, along with a few of his men who still travel quite frequently, have reported what they believe to be rogue vampires."

Alcina's eyes narrowed, "rogue vampires? In what sense?"

Another sigh, this time, sharp.

"That's the troubling part. They don't know, they had no other way to describe them. Mitch explained when he and his party stumbled upon them they fled immediately. They found 4 dead hikers where they were gathered. When his men attempted to follow them they were at a complete loss; they left no scent trail to find. They all had... white eyes."

Her mind began to turn at the news. White eyes? And no scent? Everyone has a scent.

"Did he say how many? Where was this?"

"Half a dozen, possibly more. Connecticut, outside of New Haven."

"That's..."

Mother Miranda's territory.

The two looked at each other without a word, unreadable expressions exchanged.

If Mother Miranda brought in or made new fledglings, Alcina was the first to hear about it. Always. And she'd heard nothing thus far from her. While new vampires not of her making were not uncommon, like any other clan, they were to report all new bloods to Mother Miranda and now Alcina herself, that's how it had been done for centuries.

"I have told Karl to tell his men to not interact, pursue, or intervene. I came also to ask if I may take a team and investigate myself."

"No," Alcina replied abruptly, "I don't want you out there, and there are very few vampires I trust down here as it is. If I send anyone, it will be Mateo and Gerard and I will join them... but as it is..." she stalled as she wondered how drastic of action this truly warranted; were these really rogue vampires? Had news just been delayed from an outer clan?

"I don't want anyone doing anything yet, not until I know more. I will make some calls to the clan leaders. Please relay to Heisenberg and his men to keep their eyes open and report anything else they might come across, but I agree; I don't want anyone searching these vampires out intentionally. Unless a problem is directly presenting itself, I'd rather not cause a fuss and put out a fire that didn't need starting. However, their actions will be addressed the minute I find out who they belong to."

Alcina was normally the first to jump at the chance to fight, protect and defend the city; she was one of the greatest warriors the vampires had ever seen and never batted an eye at a battle. While Donna knew the underlying reason for her hesitancy, she worried deep down that it may be misplacing her attention and focus. If a problem was brewing, which in her core she felt may very well be the case, the root of the weed might be too deep by the time it spread to their door.

Donna nodded gracefully, accepting the Matriarchs decision, "as you wish."

Oh, Alcina knew that tone anywhere.

Her eyes darted back and up to Donna's, "I mean it, I don't want you putting yourself in danger. Please, obey this without making it difficult."

Choosing the right words and tone for this required the biting of her tongue for a moment.

"Alcina, I need you to hear me without losing your temper," Donna began gently as she stepped in closer, placing her hands lovingly on the side of Alcina's arms, "I will adhere to your command. As my leader and my friend, I will respect your decision. But I humbly request you think on this carefully... I know you are in a place where making decisions to run off to a possible altercation is undesirable, but we depend on your guidance and wisdom. Please..." her voice sank very low, "love and care for your human, but don't forget you are our Matriarch."

That burned.

Instead of reacting with rage as she might normally, Alcina considered Donna and her words deeply.

It was all true.

"I have not forgotten," she began softly yet with a sternness, "you must understand the truth to your statement is more bitter and apparent everyday that passes, it does not go blind in my eyes. You should also know that my initiative to fight for all of our protection is more prevalent than ever before," Alcina lifted her chin slightly, "if there is any altercations to be had, I will be at the forefront as I always have been and there will be no prisoners taken."

Donna smiled. Alcina had always been fueled and driven by a blazing fire, and now the flame that was once brilliantly orange and gold, was now blue and white; it burned hotter, longer and fiercer. Perhaps this human lover of hers was more good than bad after all.

She pulled Alcina into an embrace and held her tight, "I could never question the fight within you, my friend. You were born a fighter and will die kicking and screaming until your last breath if it is to your liking, that I have no doubt."

The two of them chuckled, parting slowly and regarding the other with warm grins.

"Please inform me of anymore news, but keep this as quiet as possible. And while I don't necessarily wish to get Angie involved, she is awfully cunning, sneaky, and observant. Her services may be required down the road."

"I will formulate some plans. In the meantime... give my regards to your human, she seems to have tamed a beast I thought to be forever feral."

Had Donna not moved as quickly as she had, Alcina would have landed the swatting to her arm. She left giggling through the door and down the hallway leaving Alcina to send the glare after her, the smirk on her lips nullifying any terror behind it.

Shaking her head with a tumbling laugh, Alcina sat at her desk and mulled over the news once more.

Was she being under-cautious? Did this need military attention? Should she lead a team with Mitch and travel to said location and see for herself immediately?

She shuddered as Mother Miranda came wafting through her thoughts like a suffocating fog. Miranda's main stronghold was in Connecticut, near where these supposed rogue vampires had been seen. White eyes, no scent, repeated in her mind. They must have been mistaken. They must have.

Unless...

Mother Miranda had spoken about dreams and plans of a pristine, unmatched vampire army at great lengths to her when she was first turned. But that was when the internal wars between vampire clans and the external wars with lycans were still alive and thriving; the need and drive for such a thing had been abandoned many years ago, hadn't it? Once the treaties had been solidified Miranda never mentioned it again. Alcina couldn't imagine her work would have continued.

Alcina shook her head. It couldn't be.

Leaning back in her chair she closed her eyes and huffed.

This isn't news she wanted to receive tonight.

~

Yes.

Yes, you were once again listening to Alcina's cassettes on repeat all day today.

It was Sunday and you'd made a commitment to yourself to sleep at least a few hours after she left you in the early morning. It wasn't as difficult as you were expecting and you had to admit you did feel a little better getting some shut-eye. But, the moment you woke you grabbed your old as hell portable cassette player you had since you were a kid and hit play.

What better way to enjoy a lazy Sunday than listening to the lilting melodies of a voice that caressed your mind and soul like a soft velvet glove. You wished there was a way to get these digitalized so you could listen on your phone while you were at work.

There wasn't much for you to do today but you tidied your apartment. Some odd tapping sounds kept catching your attention in the later afternoon. Where it was coming from was annoying you beyond belief. You searched and looked and investigated but was never really able to put your finger on what the cause was. You gave up after it all seemed to stop and grabbed a book, plopped on your bean bag chair and read away the rest of the sunny day.

You were in the kitchen when Alcina appeared. She stood leaning against the door jam with her palm outstretched and a puzzled, inquisitive look on her face.

"Is there a reason a pen, a silver hair clip, $1.82 cents worth of coin, a shiny piece of blue glass and a silver ring much too big for your delicate little fingers were on the ground outside your balcony door?"

Placing the last cup you'd washed on the drying rack your grin tilted into the same perplexed visage.

"Uhm, I have no idea," you said as you walked over to her, gazing at the items in her palm. 

You held out your own hand and Alcina carefully rolled them into your grasp.

Weird.

Really weird.

Looking back up at her with a shrug, you smiled, "I honestly have no clue where they came from, none of these things are mine."

"Hmm, well perhaps you've got little fairies or gnomes leaving you gifts?"

"Yeah I certainly hope not, I don't know how to make peace treaties with those folks."

Alcina laughed and pulled you into her, kissing you deeply as she held you there for her to admire, "if I catch you with another mythical creature I will be terribly heartbroken, draga mea."

"Psh, yeah right. You're the only one for me babe," you sighed nuzzling into her with a warm smile.

She grinned brightly and pulled you deeper into her embrace.

"Come, our hours together tonight are short, I don't want to waste a moment.

~

Latching the antique rotary phone down for the ninth time tonight, Alcina propped her forehead against her balled fists as she sat fully discouraged at her desk.

The study was unsettlingly quiet. 

The girls were out who knows where doing who knew what, the other vampires and lycans of the underground were going about their own nightly business, you were hopefully fast asleep, and she was no closer to having any answers about these "rogue vampires" Donna had told her about this morning.

She was, of course, as vague as possible when she spoke with each clan leader over the phone; simply calling in to check if any new fledglings needed to be added to the books. Nothing out of the ordinary for the Matriarch to call about.

Nine resounding no's.

It was still possible these vampires had moved in from another state, or even another country, and had not reached or gone through the appropriate check points done for all vampires when entering new territory. But, if that was the case, then perhaps action did need taking before their bullshit got out of hand.

Regardless of who they belonged to or where they were from, she was in command and responsible for what fuckery took place in this area when it came to vampires and lycans alike. And yet, no one had heard one damn thing about their appearances, killings, or activity across the board from what she could tell.

No human city officials had come to make her aware of their presence, no vampire leaders, no lycans, no one outside of Donna had told her about anything.

For fuck sake.

Alcina sat back with a huff and she tongued her teeth and mulled this over again and again.

Yes, something had to be done.

She didn't want to risk Mother Miranda finding out about these rogue idiots anymore than she wanted her finding out she knew about that and didn't do anything about it from the beginning.

Was it time to mobilize?

This would mean several nights away from the city. Meaning she wouldn't see you for as long as it took to track down and understand the whole of the situation. Which, in hindsight wouldn't be too unbearable if you were aware of her absence from the start, but that also meant leaving her post here; risking the chance these rogue vampires have already moved into the city, leaving it all the more vulnerable and weaker without her being here. Her military forces were capable, yes surely, but the fact of the matter is the city is her responsibility and she should be the one at the front lines regardless of what is happening anywhere. But where was the current front line?

"Christ al-fucking-mighty!" she exclaimed as her thoughts engaged a 'what if' match inside her echoing skull.

Frustration slapped her back with a sting and she lit a cigarette, puffing the smoke through her nose with virile determination to get something under control. Whether that be her anxiety, the actual situation at hand, or a fucking plan to tackle this, so be it.

She had to get something figured out and quickly.

-

"You and I really outta stop meeting like this."

Donna didn't share his humor as she slipped quietly in through his shop door.

It had been 3 days since her meeting with Alcina and nothing more had been said between the two of them about it. And it didn't appear anything was being done, either. 

She had also revisited with Karl the same day she spoke with Alcina, explaining her stance, to which they both left in an agreed displeased mood. There was no pushing or pressuring the Matriarch if she wouldn't have it. While Donna hadn't pushed too hard, she was beginning to wonder if the stubborn woman actually needed a violent shove instead. Her instincts were on high alert and she hadn't been able to turn them off.

"Karl, I know you often lack the capacity for seriousness but is now the time?"

He just looked at her. 

"Look, a twisted and inappropriately timed sense of humor has always been part of my charm. Angie is your sister for god sake, I don't wanna hear it."

"Yes, often two peas in a pod. You're only redeeming quality is the lack of complete and continual destructive chaos," she tossed back with her hands on her hips.

After a brief pause she rubbed her forehead. 

With a sigh she retreated from her bark and walked closer to his work table, "sorry, I'm trying to not be as bothered about all of this as I am."

"I know," he replied much softer, "I'm still pissed at Alcina's reaction and silence about all of this. Maybe that's what's putting me over the edge. She's always ready for a fight, that's what we love about her; never having to question if our leader is prepared and on our side."

Donna huffed, "I'm feeling the same. I know if it came to it she'd be here, rallied and hungry for a fight... I'm just... wishing she was more present with us right now. It isn't as though we can't act without her knowledge or approval, but the mess that comes afterwards is another headache I don't wish to pursue. If Mother Miranda hears about us enacting military measures without Alcina... that bitch will be down here quicker than we can blink."

"She's visited enough for one year, she can fuck off for another 20 or so and I'd be happy. Actually never seeing her smug crumpled face would make me happiest but... I digress."

They sat in silence for a while as they stared down at the mangled wood of Karl's workbench. 

Finally he huffed.

"Look, I might as well tell you because you'll find out eventually; I've got men on it. Not directly, but I couldn't let this sit. I've got 3 patrols: one near New Haven, Port Chester, and outside of Yonkers. If this is what you think it is, I'm not sitting idly by while super-sized bitch is off with her human play -"

"Karl!" she hissed.

"Eeeey, eey, relax - you know I don't mean it... You know I care about that giant banshee as much as you do... I'm just having a really hard time deciding how long to wait before we get or find real answers. I know she's preoccupied, but now is really not the time for this shit."

He was right as much as Donna didn't want to admit it. She felt the unnerving pressure of something coming, something awry, but if Alcina wasn't going to listen or heed the warnings, someone needed to be on top of it.

She finally gazed over to Karl, "thank you. I know you'll be careful and I won't hover. You will keep me updated?"

"Of course, D. You're the only one outside of Mitch and those on patrol that know, and even they don't know all the details. If we do get busted it'll look better that it's just us and none of you being involved."

Before Donna could respond a ruckus could be heard down the hall from Karl's shop. They both stood quickly as the sounds came closer and through the door burst a lycan soldier.

He was ragged and bleeding, holding to his left shoulder that was hanging limp and disjointed. Panting and sweating he stumbled to the neighboring bench and slumped.

Karl was immediately to his side to hold him up, Donna was right beside him to look over his wounds.

"Blake! What the fuck happened, kid?!" Karl nearly barked.

His response was a little garbled, but Blake shook off the immense pain in his shoulder with a growl through gritted teeth.

"Ambush."

[capricious-bastard13]

Dressed with Temptation

AO3

Mature Mild Sexual Content, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Masturbating in a Confession booth, Implied Sexual Content, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Religious Guilt, Sometimes you masturbate to 9-foot-tall Vampire Mommy Sanji, And the next you're fucking 9-foot tall Vampire Mommy Sanji's pussy

They came as a quartet. Walking down the streets in their hooded figures. Mysterious and captivating.

And in the centre of them all is a walking sin incarnate.

“Ask for forgiveness yet our Father has already forgiven. We must pray and plea humbly and meekly, not demandingly, be aware of the mistakes, of the sins we have committed, and we will be heard. Forgiveness is to be given to those who are repentant.”

“Amen.”

Zoro gives the crowd a firm nod. Lifting his hands up, palms toward the sky, he asks for the people to stand from the pews and kneel upon the kneelers, together, he says loud and concise, they pray with knowledge of the mistakes and sins they have and yet to commit for the day.

Taking a step back, he gives room for another priest to stand in front of the podium, hand holding the bible, finger pressed upon printed words.

The doors slam open, casting afternoon sunlight into the centre hallway. Shining light upon the backs of four new arrivals. The sun casting them in a holy light, their silhouettes pronounced and vivid.

These black hooded figures take measured, careful steps into the threshold. Everyone is quickly turned to look at them, eyes wide and following every movement, listening for every rustle of fabric, their mouths moving, voices whispering. Mouths and words poorly hidden by cupped hands and lingering looks of wonder and flabbergasted opinions.

They walk with their backs straight, air poised and holding the idea that they are above the people looking at them. The fabric of their outfits dragging against the floor, the most eye-catching of them all is one who stands in the middle, with a black wide-brimmed hat, covering most of their visage, entire skin covered in cloth that could put a nun’s dress to shame. It gives prominence to their figure, each step led forward by the hip, one long leg after another. The sound of a heel on the floor rippling through the air.

Who is this? Who are they? Who is he?

Heels clicking as they walk, heads turning this way and that, the pews are filled and so they continue walking. Zoro’s gaze is quick and swift to settle on the empty space at the very first row and the person in the middle seems to notice too.

Yet still they take their time making their way through rows upon rows of benches. As if they want the people to keep looking at them, keep them captivated by the motion of their bodies.

Stopping just before the stage, the figure in the middle tilts his head just so, peeking upward through the cover of his hat and dark lashes, he meets Zoro’s gaze with a smirk to cherry red lips. A wicked glint in his eye.

Swallowing, Zoro meets the gaze head on, watching as the group of four turn and make their way to the empty pew, taking their seat primly and promptly.

The priest at the front’s own gulping swallow is loud enough that it seems to have snapped him out of whatever trance he’d been in with watching the quartet enter. Licking his lips, he brings his bible up closer to his face and continues reading. Voice shaky for a moment as he tries to get his bearing back.

Zoro keeps his eye lain on the group, following the line of the man’s frame, the curved cinch of his waist, the long line of his crossed legs to the point of his high-heeled dress shoes.

The man moves his head once again, taking a peek at the priest, glancing at his way before lowering his head, covering his eyes, the rest of his face. A bashful, coy sort of gesture that has Zoro feeling like he’s been punched in the stomach.

Grasping the cross slung around his neck, thumb stroking on the lines of the cross, pressing the pad of his thumb deeper, imprints it to his skin, his mind chanting for control. To ignore the temptation.

In the darkness of night, the cover of the dark, he rests his weight on his knees, lets the stinging pain of pressed weight upon flesh and bone remind him of the present. Palms clamped tightly together, eye closed shut. Jaw clenched as he prays, his mind seeking for help, a sign, forgiveness.

Unbidden however, flashes of the day burst in colour in his mind, flashes of long legs covered in cloth, as if teasing, taunting him to take the fabric away, to see just how long, how unmarred those legs are.

Milky white skin, a smooth face, and bright, mesmerising blue hues stay at the forefront of his mind. Consuming all other thought until it’s the only one remaining.

Then comes the images of a small waist, held in his large hands, his fingers digging bruises into white flesh, painting them red and purple and a glorious black. Lips dragging across supple skin and leaving indents of his teeth upon them.

“Forgive me, Lord,” Zoro whimpers into the night.

Moonlight shining through stained glass windows. Jesus knelt with his palms together, looking upward to the heavens above, his expression pleading as holy light is cast upon him. “Forgive me.” The priest hisses out, shutting his eye tightly until dots of colour are all he can see.

A creak. Small and nearly unnoticeable causes his ears to perk up in attention.

Apologising profusely, he takes his time in turning to see who had come to him at such an hour.

Greeted by that familiar wide-brimmed hat, his breath wheezes out of him, knees weak as he slowly pushes himself up to stand, moonlight silhouetting the towering man’s stature.

Lifting his head up, Zoro’s breath comes out in a silent whine. Blue irises glowing in the dark, so stark and hypnotising as he’s look down upon.

His lips are plush and just like earlier, a wondrous vivid shade of red, dark and glossy, looking smooth to the touch.

His outfit shows off his collarbones, skin just as supple in his thoughts, unmarred and a delicious white. “Father,” his voice is melodic, a singing voice, tone gentle in the night, yet raspy like gravel. Confident and poised, he takes a step forward.

Still leading by the hips, his steps are just as measured as it was before, the fabric sliding as he takes his time with the motion of putting one foot forward, the fabric glinting—silk just like the surface of his skin. For a moment, he can’t help himself but wish for the dress the man is wearing to have a slit on the side, to catch himself a glimpse of the newcomer’s leg, see the length of it entirely, to get a peek of his calf, his knee, his thigh.

Deep breath in, he grasps at the cross hanging around his neck, rubbing his thumb on the surface of Jesus crucified, craved on and lacquered wood, grounding himself to the present, pull him away from the temptation trying to wrap itself around him.

Hand balled by his side, Zoro tries once again to take a deep breath in only for the exhale to come out stuttered and broken. Heart pounding loudly in his chest, the echoes of heels clicking mixed with the drumming beat of his heart the only sounds he can hear.

“Father,” the man coos out almost pleadingly, this time much closer, “I have something I must confess,” he’s getting closer, and Zoro's thoughts are empty, images instead play on a loop in his head. That voice a sin itself.

“Help me,” the taller man whispers, “please,” it comes out as a whimper, steps halting just less than a metre away and from this distance, Zoro can clearly distinguish the difference in height between them. Tilting his head back to be able to keep his sight on that bewitching profile. Blue eyes aglow, begging.

“Yes,” he says without thought, “My child, you must repent.” Words familiar, mouth moving on muscle memory alone, his voice strangled in his throat, sounding foreign to his own ears. But the man smiles down at him, beaming at him, teeth showing and eyes crinkling adorably.

“Thank you, Father.”

The words are murmured into the air, seduction dripping from ruby red lips and pearly white teeth. It takes everything within him to keep a level head.

Chanting comforting words in his head as he leads the towering man to the confession booth, heels once again clicking. He does his damnedest to not let thoughts go astray.

Yet with a blink, all he can see are long, long legs and warm hands cupping his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks as the man lifts him up under his arms just to give him a kiss. To have his lips pressed against that plush pair, resilient under the touch, bouncing with each draw as if Zoro hadn’t just kisses, licked and bitten down on it.

A shiver wracks his spine, makes his shoulders tremble vulnerably. Chanting to himself, reprimanding himself of allowing such thoughts rob him of breath and faith.

Shaking his head, he moves his gaze back to his new companion as they make their way to the confession booth.

He opens the door to one side of the booth, gestures with a numb hand for the man to enter who squats down and gingerly takes his hat off before entering. Blond hair, blond hair resembling that of molten gold, glinting in the dim light of the church, from gold to silver under the sparse moonlight.

When he closes the door, he finally lets himself give a sigh of relief, thanking God for giving him the strength to endure and persist away from the hands of temptation.

Then, he opens the door to the unoccupied side and closes it before he settles.

Taking one more fortifying breath in, he slides the little window open, a hand placing itself daintily unto the small ledge of space from the other side. Nails well cared for, long, lithe and no doubt nimble fingers, he wonders how deep it could reach, if it’s enough when the man pleasures himself. If the man laps around at his own fingers, if the pads press down on his tongue and caresses the back of his throat.

Digging his nails into his palm, he forcibly snaps himself out of it, keeps his hands clenched and on his lap. “You may speak, my child.”

“My name is—”

“No, no. You do not need to speak your name. Just of your sins, my dear. Anonymity is important, we do not judge a person by the sins they have committed.” Zoro doesn’t let the man finish. No, he doesn’t want to know what it would be like to taste the other’s name on his tongue, to let it coat his palate and slide down his throat. Reprimanding himself once more; Zoro is still quite the weak man to have fear over another’s name when he shouldn’t. Shaking his head, he continues, “Now, we are in the presence of the Lord. Honesty is rewarded here.”

“I see.” The nameless man mumbles, the hand that the priest is in view of balling into a loose fist. An audible sigh followed immediately by pregnant silence.

Zoro takes this time to look for something to ground himself with, the familiar motion of rubbing his thumb up and down the length of the cross appallingly losing its power in the face of this coquettishly tall man.

“Father,” the voice mewls, and it does something to Zoro’s stomach, swooping as if he’s been pushed off the ledge of a cliff, heart stuttering in his chest suddenly, “Father, I have sinned so terribly.” There’s a plea to his tone, he can picture the man pouting his lips as he has spoken, eyes glassy with held back tears.

As calmly and collectedly as he can, the priest replies, “Your sins have been admonished, dear. You simply must confess to them. The first step to for Lord’s forgiveness is admittance.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” The man hurries to agree. When he speaks next, his voice is crisp and clear, body turned to the wall separating them, he can see the fabric of his dress through the little window, close to the opening and it would only take so little for him to reach out and finally get a touch—“My sin, Father, are thoughts. Unholy thoughts, ones that shouldn’t be present, especially to an unwed man such as myself.”

Zoro swallows whatever it is that’s lodged itself in his throat, tongue dry and lips cracked, a heat enveloping him swiftly, unexpectedly.

He closes his eye shut tight at the heat rising between his legs, a bulge just so beneath his robes.

The confessor continues, breathily and low, a secret for the two of them. “Father, I think of you. And your hands, your skin pressed against mine, your lips bruising my flesh, I want you, Father. To put your hands on me, whisper filth into my ears, make me scream—”

“Enough!” Zoro is panting, sweat accumulating on his back and nape, entirety of his face flushed hot and beading with sweat. He pushes to a stand, turns to look at the wall between them. “I do not need to know the details of your—your tempted thoughts, your allurement. These are details unimportant.”

“But Father!”

“I said enough!” He surges forward, pushing himself into the wall, words hissed between clenched teeth, “You are bewitched! The devil has taken hold of you! You are not repenting; you are spreading your disease!”

“Father, I beg you! I merely wanted to repent! Confess my sinful thoughts! Please! Help me.”

His trousers are so incredibly tight, sticking to the surface of his thighs, pressed against the hardness between his legs, his abdomen tight and pooled with immense heat. His hands are shaking as he reaches down and squeezes himself. The words bouncing around his head, the images vivid, the breaths shared between them within his grasp he knows it.

“Please, Father.” The man sings enticement into his ears, his being. Squeezing himself harder, a tingle travels up his spine, pleasant and earth-shattering. Finally with a growl, he slams open the door and opens the other side.

Without hesitation, he grabs the man by the arm and pulls him out, his bent legs stumbling and falling to the linoleum floor. When he looks up, his eyes are still aglow, brilliant in their shine, it calls out to him.

As they stare at each other, seconds ticking, his breathing the only sound in their surroundings, those cherry red painted lips stretch into a languid grin, canine teeth glinting under the coloured shade of moonlight, predatory and excitement dancing in that grin alone.

When the man stands up to his full height, Zoro doesn’t stop himself from looking up, eye dragging downward the entirety of the person in front of him. His fingers are quivering as he reaches out, palms clammy with cold sweat.

Gasp escaping when he finally gets to feel the fabric for himself, soft and smooth just as he thought it would be. Looking up once again, the man leans down and uses his fingers to trace the priest’s jawline, tip of his forefinger resting under Zoro’s chin as he tilts his head up higher.

“Touch me, Father.” The man hisses between them, teeth growing just a tad longer, much more prominent now than it was before, “Absolve me of my faults, of my mistakes, of my sins.”

“Of course,” Zoro readily replies, his thoughts escaping him, jumped out the window as lust takes the forefront, desire trembling in his fingers as he's bunching the skirt of the dress up, he places his hand against skin; it’s cold to the touch yet it doesn’t deter him, trailing upward until he can rest the cup of his palm on a knee.

Grinning back at the other, he lifts the skirt higher, up and over his head. There’s a gasp of surprise from the bold move and it spurs him on even more. Standing like they are, Zoro is delighted, simmering with energy to be face to face with the man’s crotch, his hands trailing up and down his legs, squeezing with a groan at the strength hidden in his thick thighs.

Swallowing down pooling saliva, he bends down just a tad, puts his lips upon white flesh, chaste kiss planted on the thick of a thigh, before he laps his tongue over the skin, groaning deep in the back of his throat at the taste he’s given, salty and tangy with sweat but sweet with whatever product the man had bathe himself with. The scent flowery yet easy on the nose. He thinks of roses and lavender oils, a filled bath with petals upon a tranquil surface.

There’s a weight of a hefty hand resting on the back of his head over the cloth of the dress draped over him, and it gives him that incentive to bare his teeth and bite down hard, spine electric with the dulcet gasp he’s greeted with, letting out a delighted noise at the marks left.

He switches to the other thigh, drags his lips across the inner side of the thigh, presses the dryness of his lips into supple skin before replacing it with sharp nips and nibbles.

Just like with the marked thigh, he licks a stripe up this one, his grip on the flesh tighter and digging deeper, biting down even harder.

The knees between his frame jolt and shudder with the force of it. The hand on his head gripping cloth and short hair alike.

“Yes,” the taller hisses satisfied.

One more, he tells himself, one more squeeze then he’ll finally allow himself to give the present of straightening his posture, of being levelled with the other’s quivering abdomen, presented with lacy undergarment trapping a pretty flushed thing. Wet and damp at the tip, leaking continuously, so enticingly. An unbidden chuckle escapes the priest, warmth of his breath causing the hardened length to jolt and shake. “So pretty.”

“I know,” the man replies confidently, knowing of the power, of the delightful lull he used to pull Zoro in so easily. “Just for you, Father.”

The priest gives pause, his face just centimetres away from diving in when the sentence clicks and registers in his head. His stomach is in knots. His mind coming to a halt, reminding himself of where he is but he wants this, wants to drown in it, to choke on the cloying allure, to let the temptation hold him by the throat and squeeze him dry.

Instead, carefully, he leans his forehead against a tight stomach, nosing at the trail of dark blond hair at the navel. “Zoro.”

“What?”

“My name, call me Zoro.”

“Of course,” there’s a smirk in the tone, “Zoro.” The priest shudders at the attention, body wracked with electricity just from the voice alone. Such power in something as simple as being called by his name, the tease in the cadence of his tone, the feather-light control being held back in his tone.

He wants the taller man to suffocate him, whether literally or metaphorically, either are too enticing that he wants it both. Salivating with the thought of it. Burying his tongue around a tight, fluttering muscle, heat wrapped around his tongue as he tries to chase it, to get in even deeper.

Letting out a guttural groan at the thought, the hand on his head pushes him forward, nudges him closer to cool skin, and he lets it, giving the tip of a leaking cock the most tentative of licks, hesitant yet eager as his tongue touches the slick coating the opaque fabric.

Through the lacy panties, he laps up at the length of it, shivering at the drag of his tongue against damp cloth, the hand on his head trying to goad him even further.

A hand wandering down, Zoro grits his teeth and tamps down the shudder that wracks through his being as he palms his own erection, sucking on the leaky, flushed tip in front of him, his other hand grasping tightly, grounding himself with every squeeze and bruising grip he gives the thigh standing strong beneath his hand.

Swallowing down the whimper as he grabs himself through the fabric, the roughness of the cloth giving him much needed friction, a spot on dark robes growing damp with roll of his hips into the press of his palm, precum gathering and pooling into a single spot.

Mouthing at the head, lips nibbling through opaque cloth, he savours and drinks in the taste, the smell captivatingly delicious. A gasp from above gives him the courage to pull on the underwear, the only sound in the still air as he frees the man’s erection, cock as long as his forearm, skin white as porcelain with a pretty pink tip, drenching heated skin wet, veins prominent and pulsing.

Dragging the garment down further, he swallows, breath taken in the face of the other’s entirety. Saliva pooling in his mouth, hunger consuming him, an urge, a want, a need coursing through his veins.

The priest gulps down his gathering saliva audibly, trying to imagine himself swallowing down the cock he’s presented with, the heavy weight of it on his tongue, the way the head would hit the back of his throat and he most likely hadn’t taken the man down to the base yet. Just the idea of it makes him desperate, thoughts frantic.

The skirt of the dress pulls up around him as the other’s panties drop to the floor, pooled around heeled feet and slender but strong ankles. Looking up, Zoro feels like he’s on his knees as a sharp-fanged smirk meets his gaze, nails scrape against his scalp carefully, gently, leisurely.

Then it moves to grab him by the cheeks, the fat of his face squished in his one hand as the man steps out of the dropped fabric, taking a step back to lean himself down and be within reasonable eye level with the priest in his hand.

His blue eyes glint in the dark, glowing brighter as his smile spreads wider. Moving his hand from his face, he trails a forefinger down the length of his tensed neck, tapping a long, manicured finger against the vein throbbing beneath tanned skin. Adam’s apple bobbing when the priest swallows, eyes locked with the other’s.

Zoro’s mouth gapes, his tongue moving listlessly, running over his teeth and the warm insides of his cheeks. There’s a name in his head, dancing beautifully, gorgeously, and it rests just on the tip of his tongue yet he can’t seem to say it, still trapped in the other’s steady gaze.

The man takes a small step forward, his breath warm as it hits the stunned priest’s face briefly, then he tucks himself close to his neck, hot air caressing his skin, the shell of his ear. “Do you know my name?” He sings into his ear, calling out to him, pulling him in even deeper.

Shaking his head before the move even connects with his brain and the man leans back to get another look at him, his tongue dragging over red luscious lips and fanged teeth, “Sanji.” The man—Sanji murmurs into the space between them, “Call me Sanji, Father.”

Sanji’s lips nip and nibble at his neck, his breathing picking up as he buries his face into the space, nosing at his vein. A tongue licks up from the juncture between shoulder and neck to the spot behind his ear. “Father,” he mumbles, “Zoro.” Moving back down, a pleasant shiver runs down his spine at the sensation of teeth hovering over his skin, pressing but not puncturing. A hand grasps him by the back of his head, as the other rests itself upon a protruding Adam’s apple, feels the way it jumps and bobs with every shallow swallow.

“You smell exquisite.” Sanji says with a moan, his teeth pressing down harder, “I want you on my tongue, Zoro,” with a hissing breath, Sanji opens his mouth and digs his teeth in, canine breaching through skin and flesh and into a living vein.

Zoro goes lax in his hold, his eye fluttering to a close as he lifts his hand up to rest on blond tresses, fingers tangled and clasped loosely. Sanji’s hips sway in the air as he drinks, his own eyes heavy lidded with each gulp. Lapping a tongue up at the open wound, he pulls back to look at the priest, his cheeks a beautiful red and his eye blackened with lust.

With a smile, Sanji surges forward, their lips meeting.

-------

With hair made of pure gold, soft like silk, it gleams beneath the moonlight. There is only one god, he asks for forgiveness.

Zoro closes his eyes shut tight, forming indents on the centre of his palms, digging into his skin and singeing through the sinews of muscles. His knees ache as he rests his weight upon them even more, teeth grit. "Father, forgive me," his voice rings out in the silence of it all, ringing in his ears.

Sanji's presence heavy despite the lack of his being in the room.

Jesus stays prominent above, eyes bloodshot and glistening with tears, palms forever bleeding, a crown of thorns he carries, skin wrinkled from the sun, tattered by the conditions he endured, feet rooted still. Never had Zoro resented the fact of being a mortal man.

The newcomers had swept in their village like a storm yet never left like one. Rather they stayed. He'd held himself in his hand in the dim and darkness of the booth with purring temptation on the other side, anonymity ignored.

Head hung below the earth, he'd hissed Sanji out of the church, watched as red-soled heels left phantom prints on the marble floors. Sanji's hands that waved in goodbye, is anything but a wave nor a farewell. Each long, lithe digit coming down onto his palm, gloved hand that showed off sharp nails, counting down until no more fingers remained, his voice tingling like a bell. "Goodnight, Padre Zoro."

The first thing he did once he got back into his quarters is bathe, rubbing skin red than tanned, raw yet filthy still. Sanji's being settling deep, deep underneath his skin, piercing into the marrow of his bones. He'd held himself for a second time in one night, nails digging into skin until he bleed in retribution.

"For I have," Zoro presses his palms even tighter together, Jesus looking down upon him in disappointment and disgust for his descendant, so easily ensnared in temptation, straying further from the path.

The newcomers had swung open the doors, walked down the aisle, with collarbones on display and a slit that revealed a leg.

Skin pale and porcelain, limbs graceful and dancing. Eyes blue and piercing. He is not a god to be worshipped.

The night is dark yet his Father looks upon him, brows knitted together in pity for the mortal man that he is, swayed and pulled in the direction the Almighty Father doesn't want him to. "Sinned." The cross between his hands burns his flesh, marking him for eternity in shame and reminder.

Sanji reclines in a bed of pillows, a four-poster bed with opaque veils draped over them, twined and twirling, trailing unto the carpeted floor. Plush, peach lips resilient against the nail he's biting down on, fangs peaking underneath.

Yes, Zoro is just a man.

Nail raking down, bleeding him raw and black. Sanji is not a god to be worshipped, rather ravished.

Golden hair made like a flame in the candlelight, scent sweet like cherries and addicting like whiskey. He's sworn off a lot of things in his life as he grew older, and his muscles spasm in contradiction of body and mind.

Head thrown back and legs raised high, his hand a contrast to the other's. Fat and muscle and flesh spilling between the thickness of his fingers. Tongue coated and thick in his throat, sweat dotted back and blood bled black. Sanji sings and Zoro finds himself falling further, swaying and stumbling down the path deeper into unfamiliar yet well-known. A habitual thing. An intimate space.

Thighs press themselves between his head and fingers thread through his hair, Zoro is just a man determined to please. Feeding on the praise and a job well done.

The sun never rises and he doesn't stop, content in the muffled tumult of his surroundings. Gaze ablur and as opaque as the decorative veils, he watches with a haze as Sanji grins at him. "Good boy," his lips red and dripping, Zoro surges, mouth panting and tongue too heavy, letting himself be slotted into place. A safe space.

Sanji hums, his words into his mouth, giggling and laughing in delight, music like a lullaby.

The sheets are body-warmed, heats shared. Slick and moist with sweat, it slides and sticks to the skin. He lets himself be led, laid onto the bed and wrists bound, thighs trembling and feet searching for purchase. In the flame-wrapped walls, blue eyes pin him down and ardor holds him in its arms, clenching, pulsing, tightening as it chokes the air from his lungs. Feather-light trails leaves his body quaking, weak and needy.

His knees burn as he shifts more weight onto them, eyes fluttering open in fear as he looks toward the heaven. Cherubs float in their ivory thrones, held aloft with their haloed wings, big eyes staring him down.

Zoro hisses through clenched teeth, breath coming out in harsh pants as Jesus keeps his pitied gaze steady.

A shiver wracks through his chest as Sanji rests on him, body twisting, hips swerving, his chest out of reach and his mouth of celestial-reach. "Please," he whispers, blinking, lashes wet and clumped, a hand cradles his jaw, a nose traces his ear, lips flutter above his skin.

His body locks, flesh punctured, ecstasy in his veins flowing out of him.

In the end, he tears his eyes away, his chest laboured with the weight of his wrongdoings. Habitual. "I have sinned." Jesus keeps his gaze, despondent as coloured statue nailed to the wall.

Drawing back with a moan, Sanji's tongue darts out to lick away the blood coating his lips, stained crimson and tainted with Zoro's scent; flavour.

"You're so good to me," he purrs, grinding, a whine escaping him as Zoro buries deeper, "So, so good to me."

He nods, tugging at chimeric restraints until his hands are gripping, bruising. "Just you."

[thoughtsofbaal]

Nighttime stories.

It was New Year's Eve in the city of New Orleans the streets were crowded as people stumbled about drunkenly enjoying the holiday, people laughed, danced, and played music. It seemed as if everyone was joyous, all except one. Elizabeth walked the streets in a haze.For a year, she had been plagued with a dream. a premonition. A prophecy. Yet when it came true, it offered her very little solace. She knew it was ridiculous, but the facts were undeniable Two months and it consumed her. Vampires were real. Elizabeth was attacked by one the media dubbed as a rabbit animal. the sensation of his fangs digging into her shoulder still lingered. she brushed the scars and shivered, but that wasn't what frightened her. It was HIM. The bar owner. the most dangerous being she could have ever imagined. the site of him ripping the other vampire apart were so brutal, not even the hardest of criminals would be able to stomach such a sight. the way he plunged his hand into the other's chest, crushing his heart with ease. to the way he severed his head tendon by tendon. Elizabeth fell to the ground for a moment, gasping for air. Her hands clutched her rosary for dear life, yet all the prayers in the world would not find her comfort.  therapy was not an option either. she'd probably be declared insane or schizophrenic. after a few moments Elizabeth got up and noticed the chapel nearby was lit. getting the courage, she walked in. 

“As much as I do charity, this is no place for drunkards to sleep.” The voice was gentle yet stern, like a parents. Elizabeth came to, shaking violently as she looked at the priest. He wore the typical clergy outfit, long brown hair tied in a neat tail, and face shaved. He looked young, maybe only 30, his face just barely starting to wrinkle. His eyes were a soft brown, warm and inviting. “No Father, I’m not drunk nor here to sleep.” Perhaps it was something in her eyes or the shaking in her voice, but the priest frowned. He motioned towards her with a small smile. “Come, let us talk a while.” The two walked up the pews of the chapel, Elizabeth taking in the building. This was not the Catholic Church she normally attended, hers was much closer to her side of New Orleans. 

“My name is Gabriel. What is your name dear?” He sat down in the very front pew, away from the few others that were there sending prayers for the New Year. “Elizabeth.” She answered curtly, startling herself a bit. “It is a pleasure to meet you Elizabeth… What ails you so vexingly?” His eyes showed great concern, anyone looking at the woman could see she had been through the ringer. She’d go to work on autopilot only to lock herself in her apartment. Even her friends couldn’t reach her. Elizabeth took a breath, tears swelling her eyes. “I moved here in June from Canada, and even before moving I kept having a dream… A nightmare.” Father Gabriel looked at her, giving a slight nod as if to say Continue. “This vision of the future plagued me.” 

“And what happened in this nightmare?” Father Gabriel leaned his head and stared at Elizabeth, her gaze avoiding his. “It always played out exactly the same. Halloween night. I remember walking into the most beautiful gothic bar. It was adorned in candles that lit up the space. Deep red and black velvet covered the walls in intricate patterns and bat motifs. It was busy and many people were dressed in costumes, including the bar staff. I drink too much for my tolerance but I had an extremely rough week and wanted to forget it.” 

She stopped talking when another priest walked by offering her a glass of water. “Thank you..” The woman gave a nod and the priest went on his way. She took a few sips before continuing. “I stayed there for a few hours and maybe 10 minutes before midnight, I walk out. I live roughly three blocks from this bar so I decided to just walk home. There are plenty of people outside so I think nothing of it and head home. That’s when I’m struck by something on the back of my head and fall. Something drags me into a darkened alley before someone notices. That’s when I feel the fangs plunge into my neck shoulder area.” 

Her story stopped for a moment so she could catch her breath. Her gaze met Father Gabriel’s and to her comfort, he was still intently listening to her rather outlandish sounding dream. “I start loosing consciousness and am not to fight back as the vampire kills me. But that’s when the vampire is thrown off of me. I’m slumped on the ground unable to move but I can still see what’s happening. Another man had appeared. The most beautiful man I have ever seen. He was too beautiful to be real, yet he was right in front of me. He rips and mangles the vampire until it dies and becomes a pile of clothes and dust. Then my… Hero… Turns around and I see the most horrifying thing of the night. His fangs… So many fangs compared to the other vampire and glowing red eyes that scream monster. He notices my fear and relaxes, crouching down to check on me. I’m then lifted up by him then taken somewhere. I don’t ever get to see because the nightmare is over.” 

She stopped talking now, gaze fixated on the crucifix. “Father…” Her voice trembles even more now as Father Gabriel rubs her arm gently. “That is quite the dream. I can understand why you look as you do. You must not have had a peaceful night’s sleep in a long time.” She shook her head, agreeing with his statement, though anyone could see she was not functioning properly at all. “Has the dream stopped?” His gentle voice carried a wave of worry, knowing things of the mind could take someone down harder than a physical ailment. “Yes…. Because the events have happened.” Her eyes could almost burn the wooden cross with how intensely she stared at it, not wanting to see the face of the priest’s probable disbelief. “Father… Are vampires real? Tell me. Do they actually exist?” 

She turned to him with a lifetime of pain in both voice and body, not wanting yet another person to find her crazed. “I know what you are going to say. They are not real. I’m delusional and crazy.”  Slowly Elizabeth pulled down her shirt a bit, revealing a few nasty looking bite scars. Many would assume it was a dog, but someone with more expertise would be able to tell it was more human in structure. Even these weren’t enough proof for even her now ex best friend. Father Gabriel looked at Elizabeth with sadness in his eyes and stood up. “I believe you, dear. Come. I have something to show you.” 

He motioned for her to follow, and her gaze broke from the crucifix to the priest. This was the first time someone had said they believed her, yet she doubted him. She stared at him bewildered for a moment before snapping out of it and following. Thoughts raced her mind. This is a holy place. No harm shall come to me here. She repeated this as a mantra as he led her to the chapel’s office. 

Upon opening the door she noticed it was a small, cozy office. It had pictures of a few of the Saints, some past and the present Pope, a few clergy men and a rather large picture of Mary holding baby Jesus. A book shelf full of books took up an entire wall, and there was another filled with more books and religious music and videos. There was a desk with a bunch of paperwork thrown about and a small, extremely comfy looking couch. Elizabeth thought of laying on it, wondering if she’d get some peace in the chapel. 

“What is it you want to show me Father?” The woman was more relaxed now, the faintest smile creeping up on her face. “Nothing in here.” Father Gabriel moved a picture to reveal a button, an empty wall moved to reveal a passageway. “In times of strife God shows us things we may not understand. I too was unsure of my dreams. I had never murdered a man before but the visions of doing such shook me to my core. It was when the events of the nightmare came to fruition that I realized something. I knew very little about the world and that frightened me.”

[monstermaster13]

Corey and Oats in:

‘The Lost Episode of Corey and Oats Adventures’

Warning: The following is a creepypasta parody adventure and not to be taken seriously, it is not to everyone’s tastes and also makes fun of people who find transformation and real person fics to be grotesque or weird or creepy, please don’t read if are one of those types of people.

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

We all know that lost episode creepypastas are made up stories people make online to scare people and we are not supposed to take them seriously some people are scared of them and think they’re real, Corey and Oats weren’t such people as they knew it was made up…one afternoon while at Nile Road, Oats couldn’t stop thinking of a dream that Mel had about an ominous narrator similar to DavetheUseless talking about a creepypasta that was somehow about her, she didn’t know why someone would do it or who wrote it but…it kept her up all night, and she was up all night thinking about it.

Oats asked Mel..’Mommy, why would someone write a Creepypasta about you?’ ‘I don’t know, I didn’t think there were any about us.’ ‘Let’s find out shall we.’ ‘I don’t know….’ Oats responded nervously, blushing as he examined himself. ‘Why not?’ ‘It could be scary.’

Corey comforted his equine friend and told him that it would be okay as he went into the bedroom and pulled out a magic item from the bedbox along with his torch which he gave a second torch to Oats, he told him that even if the ‘narrator’ came after them he’d protect him and the duo along with Mel used the item and the torch to go through one of the walls of their bedroom to go into a strange grimdark-esque city.

When they arrived in this particular city they felt kind of small as they walked past the massive buildings which all looked broken down, Mel listened as she heard the ominous narrator talking about a lost episode Creepypasta, the Creepypasta he was describing a ‘Lost Episode’ of the short-lived Dan Aykroyd sitcom Soul Man.

The creepypasta played out as most lost episodes often did with the narrator describing the episode, the ‘episode’ started out with Mike Webber played by Dan Aykroyd, and the narrator described that the episode was very ‘dark’ and how Mike looked disheveled and pale, and the episode showed Mike coughing in the bathroom only to see himself in the mirror - his reflection was one that gave him sharp vampiric looking teeth and glowing eyes like some kind of demon. ‘Mommy, is this usually what happened in that sitcom?’ ‘Uh no…Eukie has seen this show and she knows that he never got turned into a demon in any of the episodes.’

The ‘episode’ then showed Mike hissing and baring his fangs at the younger priest (played by Anthony Clarke), biting him on the neck as highly realistic blood dripped from the younger priest’s neck. Corey thought this was highly suspicious, he had seen this show and he KNEW there wasn’t a vampire episode either, he felt worried as the two vamped up priests began to go on a bloodlust frenzy.

“You know what, knowing this narrator I bet this was planned.”

“You really think so, pal?”

‘Why yes…the 1997 sitcom Soul Man never had episodes like this, not even on halloween.’ ‘Absolutely. This is no doubt the work of a creepypasta narrator.’

The narrator then brought up some elements they just knew he’d bring up such as skeletons…but not as frequent as the other times as he used that element, and ominous messages. One message was one telling them not to carry on for the story gets more gruesome.

Corey and Oats investigated as they looked around but Oats looked horrified when he saw a warped and distorted version of himself and his friend in the reflection of one of the windows, Oats’s distorted form was him in a torn dress with makeup running down his eyes as he was crying - with black feathery wings sticking out of his back, while Corey’s own distorted form looked like he had been possessed by a demon from another realm. ‘Mommy, I see what we would like if this narrator got to us.’ ‘Don’t worry, you can do it, be brave.’

Just then they saw a version of Mel in the reflection who had a ragged appearance, looking like an evil anthro dropbear which terrified Oatsie…’Mommy, I saw you, it’s not pretty’, Oats cried, sobbing as he looked up at her.

“Mommy, why do you look like that?”

“It’s a trick, the narrator is doing this to us.”

The duo saw a version of Nathan who was holding his hands over his eyes and crying…’What’s wrong?’ ‘The voice said I needed professional help and that i’m a freak.’ ‘You? A freak?’ ‘Yeah, the mocking voice said normal fans don’t act like me and that i’m not normal…what do they know, nothing.’ ‘Exactly, you’re not like normal people, we know that and that’s why you are special, you are such a good friend to us all.’

Nathan brightened up and he explained the reason he was there, he explained that he was suckered into discovering the Lost episode of Soul Man only for a spectral version of Dan Aykroyd to speak to him begging him to ‘release him’ from the episode. ‘So that’s why you’re here?’ ‘Yes, that narrator brought me into his realm and I am cursed to be here. I heard Dan’s voice calling me from the screen telling me to release him.’ ‘You released him?’ ‘That’s exactly what I did, little did I know, he was going to use his powers to influence me.’

“Did it harm your Were-Aykroyd powers in any way?”

“Sort of…yes.”

‘Can you still use them?’ ‘Oh absolutely but the thing is…my Were-Aykroyd powers act up here.’ He responded as he could sense something was wrong, and that’s when his eyes gave off a supernatural glow. ‘I remember the recurring nightmare.’ ‘Recurring nightmare?’

“Oh yes..”

The sequence Nathan mentioned showed him but with sharp teeth and his eyes were a piercing shade of blue and very much were reminiscent of the ending of the Thriller video. He panicked and then saw his hands trembling as he saw brown hairs growing on them while they broadened and his arms following suit, he tried to hide them behind his back. ‘Aaw crap, Dan…do you have to do this now?’ ‘Sorry, you know how I get. Being your were-aykroyd alter-ego and having to wait until it gets dark is a pain.’

Nathan sighed and then groaned as his chest and torso broadened, his skin maturing as he saw brown hairs growing on his chest and on his stomach…his stomach gurgled as this was happening…’Ick, I always get that feeling in my stomach when this happens.’

“Does turning into Dan hurt?”

“The first time I turned into a Were-Aykroyd it certainly did hurt…”

‘But not anymore, right?’ ‘It did, but then I got used to it.’ He sighed as his back broadened as did his shoulders, his stomach gained a bit of weight to it and he examined his clothing which miraculously didn’t rip. He blushed as he felt his rear plumping up….’Yeah, this form is definitely sexy all right. I know this reads like porn but I don’t care, if Dan didn’t want to be a sex symbol he wouldn’t have played such adorkable characters.’

The covid microbe and his equine buddy both knew this was a recurring thing, they knew of the Were-Aykroyd as Nathan’s alter-ego and that he had a psychic connection with him. Corey knew of Dan’s powers, as Nathan bulked up in height to 6’1 and his feet enlarged, two of the toes on both toes sticking at the knuckle, giving him webbed toes as he looked over at the duo.

Nathan always did have a soft spot for his Were-Aykroyd alter-ego, yes…he was a bit of a tease and he did make things difficult at times but he meant well…he explained this to them as his neckline altered and his hair darkened a bit while his brow altered and his eyebrows thickened, his hair lengthened as well. He examined his face as his nose broadened and his features took on a more Aykroydian appearance, his voice also changing to fit as well. ‘Whew…that was intense, I gotta say…even in nightmare sequences it’s intense and wild to even think about morphing here.’

The duo and Mel along with Nathan in his Were-Aykroyd form navigated through the grimdark city, dealing with all sorts of creepypasta inspired demons and monsters, and they solved a series of puzzles and eventually made it to where the ominous narrator was. The ominous director watched as they did so, attempting to send his minions after the duo but Corey fought them off. ‘The important thing to remember about creepypastas is that they aren’t real.’ ‘Right.’

Of course the ominous unnamed narrator of this world attempted to corrupt the duo, describing their actions as if they were in a creepypasta of their own but Corey knew they were just stories and weren’t real. ‘Narrator, your work may provide chills for your audience but it doesn’t work here. These stories you speak, aren’t scary for us, they get more and more ridiculous with each episode’ ‘How do you know that?’ ‘All of your stories are the same.’

Corey and Oats used some supernatural abilities to fight off the narrator’s minions and let open some light which cleared the darkness from all around, turning some of the corrupted characters back to normal.

Nathan and a group of Dan Aykroyd characters worked on altering the ominous narrators scripts to reverse the damage that had been caused, turning more corrupted characters back to normal. ‘There we go…all better.’ ‘Yeah.’

“This isn’t how this story is supposed to end.”

“Sorry narrator but this is one story that shall be your last.”

Corey charged towards the narrator and used some of his powers to send him falling down onto the ground, the ominous narrator realized the error of his ways and apologized before losing all his energy and his powers and turning to dust…’Hurray.’ ‘We did it.’ ‘We defeated the narrator’. Oats hugged his best friend and whinnied. ‘Well done you two, you have defeated the narrator and restored the city back to normal.’

“Thank you, mommy.”

The duo hugged Mel and Oats looked over at her…’I’ve learned to conquer my fears today and it’s all thanks to the adventure we have just had.’ ‘I’m glad, now let’s all go home.’ ‘Yes, let’s all go home.’ Nathan looked over at the Dan Aykroyd characters…’Elwood, Louis, Grocer, Clifford, you guys are and will always be my beloved brothers, and i’m glad you’re going to always be there for me.’ ‘Likewise, Nate.’

Corey and Oats said goodbye to everyone before exiting with Mel, going through the portal from earlier and arriving back at their house in Nile Road. Nathan and the Dan Aykroyd characters stayed for a while to clean things up before heading back home as well. ‘I am delighted we were able to defeat the thing that was causing you those dreams, mommy.’ Oats responded as he cuddled Mel.

“You were very brave as well.”

“I was, mommy?”

“Oh yes, you were.”

The duo went over to the lounge and relaxed as they had afternoon tea, an hour later after that they had dinner, after dinner they relaxed and listened to music and played Webkinz, they emailed Jill about their adventure before having a karaoke contest.

When their karaoke contest was over for the night they went into the bedroom and relaxed, they got ready for bed by brushing their teeth and putting on their night-clothes, when bedtime came around they all got into bed and snuggled up with Mel, having nice dreams.

And another adventure has ended for our duo but don’t worry listeners, there are more ones coming.

[kissmefriendly]

Wow I forgot how gay The Lost Boys was - I also forgot how stupidly funny it is

[l-r-christian]

hi so this is my first ask and I was hoping (if it is okay) to see headcanons of the relationship between the old school dracula's daughter and the mikaelson (as well as nikolas if that is possible) thank you in advance if you do this :)

Yes and your welcome

Warnings: Fluff, Protective Mikaelsons

Parts one and two

Klaus is always watching Nikolas with Y/N to the point Elijah has to step in before the older vampires could notice

The witches are every careful around the children after seeing what just one of them are capable of

The Mikaelsons finding adorable and terrifying how protective both Y/N and Nikolas are of the family

Nikolas and Elijah get along a little too well both at times can be found reading in Elijah's study

If Y/N is angered everyone's go to is to getting Elijah, Finn or Nikolas to calm her before she shows her true colors

"I would give my life to Y/N, Miss Hayley." "Shut up you little Romeo."

Klaus and Kol gets protective seeing Nikolas declared his love for Y/N while Rebekah and Freya find it adorable

When the first Sired shows up both Nikolas and Y/N are short tempered and very protective of the family

"Tristan I am willing to show you how a true vampire acts if you try to harm my Elijah again."

Aurora made the mistake of mocking Y/N, Tristan losses half of the Strix that day and is even more scared of the 10 year old now

Both Y/N and Nikolas fear anything relating to Christianity or the Church as both remind them of the crusades, Camille's uncle is the only Priest that can be near them

Elijah keeps a stock of how much blood bags there are for the ancient vampires as them feeding on humans scares other vampires

Kol likes taking Nikolas and Y/N on road trips as the little awe faces are the best part of these trips, Rebekah as a whole album of pictures of their little awe faces

Nikolas gets Elijah to help him with buying gifts for Y/N as the boy just wants to express his love

Y/N enjoys baking with Finn as the Original had done research on baked goods of her homeland

"You guys realize how terrifying those kids are, right?" "Of course Marcellus."

Nikolas plays the violin for Y/N so the family will come home to the sounds of Nikolas playing as Y/N sleeps in front of the fire

Klaus enjoys painting with Y/N as both can sit for hours talking about everything art while painting

The Mikaelsons learned just how dangerous Nikolas can be as when Hayley was missing he helped Elijah with the hunters

The Mikaelsons going after Abraham Hellsing and his hunters after both Nikolas and Y/N are staked

Freya and Rebekah takes Y/N out shopping for cute dresses and make a whole day of it

Y/N and Nikolas has and will speak in old Romanian to each other when they are being mischievous and not wanting Elijah to know

"Nikolas Von Barron!" Cue Nikolas freezing trying to remember what he could have done to get his beloved's anger

Klaus has been known to draw Nikolas and Y/N as they sleep

When Y/N is sleepy the Mikaelsons find her adorable as she is extremely cuddly and clingy

Nikolas is in awe with magic so Freya likes showing him a few spells to watch his eyes light up

There are times that the Mikaelsons are reminded that the ancient vampires are children as one time when Klaus came back wounded and was greeted by a crying Y/N and Nikolas trying to comfort her

Elijah is so soft when Y/N hugs him as he knows she isn't open to affection much with how long she had been alive while Nikolas is very open to affection

Hayley is still unnerved by how brutal Y/N and Nikolas can be when protecting the family

Both Nikolas and Y/N share a coffin when Marcel takes them out first before going after the Mikaelsons

"They have aged?" "Freya I am just as surprised as you are."

"A virgin?" "We need the blood of a virgin to wake them or lamb's blood." Elijah tells Hayley watching Rebekah cleaning up the vampire's

Kol has brought the trickster out of Nikolas so no one is surprised to see them pulling tricks on Marcel

Y/N is surprisingly close to Vincent telling Elijah that witch reminds her of her older brother so if anyone needs to find her she is most likely with Vincent

Freya and Y/N likes to meditate together as they can be found in a quiet part of Abattoir sitting for hours

It takes awhile for Y/N to be comfortable in new places so she can be found with Nikolas or any of the siblings

Nikolas and Y/N can be found in Klaus's or Elijah's bed in the winter as they get cold easily and both Originals are like furnaces

Rebekah adores doing Y/N's hair as the vampire loves feeling Rebekah gently brush her hair while making beautiful braids

Kol likes taking naps with Y/N as she has a calming affect on the wildest Mikaelson which confuses the siblings as Nikolas joins in some times

Finn and Y/N can be found relaxing by the fire during winter as Y/N cuddles the vampire while he quietly reads to her

Freya and Rebekah likes to take Nikolas out so the boy can get away from the men for the day

Elijah and Nikolas cooks together as he tells Elijah about Y/N's favorite dishes of her homeland so the Original can make them for her

Klaus plays chess with Nikolas as both talk about different war strategies which worries Elijah seeing how well they bond over it

[therealvinelle]

Ciao! I was about to ask a question about who you would cast as Aro, when I read your Asks warning and decided I wanted to know way more why you won't answer questions about the movies? Is it because you don't like the way the story was adapted? Also, I still want to know who you would cast as Aro, and I'm sorry if this has been answered before but I'm new around here! Just started reading Nebuchadnezzar's Dream and I'm looooooving it by the way!!

Who would I cast as Aro?

Many suggestions have been made by yours truly on this blog, as I'm not committed to anyone specific for Aro but have strong opinions nonetheless. I think I'll just bullet point potential fancasts:

A young Cate Blanchett Is she the right gender? No. Do I care? Also no. I'm a blind casting kind of gal. Blanchett has beautiful alien-like features, she's enigmatic, she seems larger than life, she's a great actress. She'd be convincingly three and a half millennia old.

Damiano David (the vocalist from Måneskin) if he were an actor He looks perfect for the part.

A young David Tennant Tennant is great at manic, lunar, and unhinged characters, just as he can do understated characters. He has one of those faces where it wouldn't matter that he didn't quite look like Aro, either, he's handsome and unique enough that you wouldn't mind.

A young Glenn Close Another woman, but again, blind casting. Close is incredible at villainous roles, she has a screen presence that's impossible to look away from. There's this unshakable dignity in her, I would look at her playing the part of Aro and not question for a moment that this is the man(?) who has been the world's clandestine ruler for over a thousand years. Also, she's hot as hell, in Dangerous Liaisons she is in her forties and never so much as kisses another character, yet she has more sexual energy than Michelle Pfeiffer and Uma Thurman combined. I can absolutely see her as a petrified gay vampire who's seducing bright-eyed priests all over the place. And like Siân Philips below, Glenn Close would kill the hell out of Didyme.

Margot Robbie Right age, wrong gender, but right manic energy. She just lets loose, goes completely nuts if the director lets her. And she's charismatic, incredibly so. Margot Robbie as Aro, I want to see it.

A young Siân Philips I swear I'm not messing with you people, this is a serious suggestion. Siân Philips played Livia in "I, Claudius", and she was just masterful as the emperor's wife who plots and poisons and controls all the lives around her, always ten steps ahead of everyone else, always the most intelligent person in the room. If we're casting for Aro in a prequel where he's rising to power, Philips would be a blast to watch as Aro destroying his enemies so thoroughly they don't even realize it's happening. I can see her killing Didyme, too, she'd act the hell out of that (in part because I've already seen her as Livia killing her beloved husband.)

Timothee Chalamet He's the right age, right stature, right type of face, and would be great in that this is an Aro who'd be constantly underestimated, as I'm sure Aro was for the longest time. No powerful coven would look at vampire Timothee Chalamet and thinks, "welp, it's over for us". I'm not sure if he has the acting talent required, but I feel I should have one suggestion on this list that is contemporary, an actual actor, and the right gender.

Why won't I answer questions about the movies?

I've answered questions about them in the past (check out the masterpost!), as I'm happy to explain what I think of them. Which, in short, is that they're terrible and form a different canon than the canon of the books.

The problem is that people kept asking me to write movie-verse metas, such as what do I think of Jasper and Bella joking around at the beginning of New Moon, or what do I think of Bella's wedding dress, and it came to annoy me as I'm a fan of the books, not the movies. Plus, I've said so much about those films already, I feel I've got it covered. So, I put a blurb on the askbox asking people to please not ask me about the damn movies anymore. (And then forgot that blurb existed until just now.)

You're loving Nebuchadnezzar's Dream

Thank you, that's great to hear!

[apinchofm]

Marcus and Phoebe elope.

Marcus didn't like to ask for permission. But he wanted to marry to Phoebe and Matthew wasn't giving his support.

At first, he respected it as they had a lot going on - the Book of Life, Diana's pregnancy, then Jack and Benjamin. But Matthew had barely acknowledged what Phoebe was to him.

"Elope? Is that allowed?" Phoebe whisper-shouted as they strolled through the grounds of Sept-Tours.

"Of course, it is," Marcus said, but Phoebe raised an eyebrow, "Okay, it is, but it is frowned upon."

"Uncle Hugh and Fernando did it when grandfather refused to give his permission and support, and they were happier for it." Marcus said.

"I want us to spend the rest of our lives together," Marcus said, cupping her face in his hands, "I don't see why we should wait for Matthew to approve."

Phoebe smiled, "I would very much marry tomorrow, anywhere. I don't want to cause any trouble between you and your father."

"You won't be. I'm the de Clermont trouble-maker." Marcus corrected, and got down on one knee, making Phoebe giggle, "Miss, Phoebe Taylor, will you run away with me?"

"Why, yes." She replied. A sudden applause startled them both and they turned to see Fernando, leaning on a tree, clapping.

"Beautiful. Just beautiful." He smiled.

"Thank you uncle," Marcus replied, standing.

Fernando stopped his applause, "I'm glad you and Hugh never met. I don't think this family could handle two of you."

"You won't say anything?" Marcus checked. Fernando shook his head and pulled his nephew in for a hug.

"I'll be the first to give my congratulations."

.....

But Marcus couldn't leave without telling Ysabeau. She had raised him after all, and she knew he wanted to get Phoebe.

"Marthe said that you were packing," Ysabeau observed when she walked into their suite. They were both in their coats and dressed to leave.

"We're getting married, grand-mere," Marcus announced.

Ysabeau, however, smiled. Her grandson, the rebel and the revolutionary. Of course, he wouldn't wait any longer to marry the woman he loved. So much like Philippe in that aspect.

"Well, you will need a ring." Marthe came in, with a jewellery box, giving it to Marcus with a smile.

"Come here." Ysabeau opened her arms to Phoebe and kissed her on both cheeks before pulling her into a warm embrace, "You are my granddaughter now."

"Thank you." Phoebe smiled at the vampire.

"I want pictures at least." Was Marthe's only demand, which they readily agreed to.

....

New Orleans. Sure, Matthew may be the head of the Scion, but these were Marcus' children. They loved him and he loved them and more than anything, they loved a good celebration.

"Defying Matthew all over again." Ransome smirked when Marcus and Phoebe arrived at Marcus' home, "There's a part of me that wants to call him to rub it in his face."

"Thought you were getting along?" Marcus smiled.

"Doesn't mean I don't like seeing him run around like a headless chicken because he can't control his eldest," Ransome replied and the two embraced.

"It's good to see you again, Ransome." Phoebe smiled and they kissed each other on the cheeks.

The ceremony was held in the garden of Ransome's club. It had been decorated with white lilies and lilacs, fairy lights hung everywhere.

"Welcome to our family."

......

Phoebe wore a short antique tiered dress, made of lace with matching white heels. Marcus was in a black suite. A local daemon priest conducted the marriage, speaking in French and English. Marcus' family as well as various members of the creature community were in attendance and watched on happily.

"I, Marcus, give myself to you in faithful matrimony." Marcus promised, holding Phoebe's hands.

"And, I receive you," Phoebe smiled.

"I, Phoebe, give myself to you in faithful matrimony."

"And I receive you."

As they kissed, everyone cheered and the band played a cheerful jazz song.

....

"We will have to tell them at some point."

Three days. That's how long they had been in the bedroom for consummating their marriage, with a nervous butler leaving food and wine outside.

Phoebe was lying on the messy bed, eating from a bowl of mixed fruit, catching her breath. Marcus was looking out of the window, listening to the pitter-patter of the rain, sounds of the city as he sipped a glass of red wine.

"I like our peace," Marcus said, as he came back to bed. He smiled at Phoebe - dishevelled, in a white slip nightgown. Beautiful.

Marcus picked a melon between his fingers and put it to Phoebe's lips, she took it into her mouth.

"Well, when someone tells Matthew, we won't be at peace." Phoebe pointed out.

"I love you." He whispered and she pressed her forehead against his, sitting up and climbing into his lap. His hands steadied her, coming to rest on her waist.

"I love you too." He kissed the visible bite mark at the curve of her breast as her fingers combed through his hair, "I would hate to become a widow so soon."

"You won't." Marcus promised.

.....

"Where is he?"

Matthew had tried calling Marcus for two weeks now. Both he and Phoebe were gone. Ysabeau had denied knowing where they were. He and Diana had gone over to Fernando's as he knew the two usual suspects who assisted Marcus in his hijinks were there - Gallowglass and Miyako.

"Miyako?" Matthew asked his niece who had come to visit her cousins, playing with Philip on the carpet of Fernando's living room, whilst Gallowglass walked around with Rebecca.

"I haven't heard from him." She said defensively, "He and Phoebe probably needed a break from your temper tantrums." Diana couldn't help but laugh at that, looking at her husband apologetically.

"You don't trust your son?" Fernando asked.

"Of course I trust him," Matthew replied but Fernando raised an eyebrow.

"Then why are you panicking? Benjamin is dead, he's fine." He pointed out.

"You know where he is." Matthew realised. Fernando simply took a seat.

"No, but I know what he's doing," Fernando replied, "And I promised to keep his secret."

"As his uncle?" Gallowglass asked with interest.

"He is our grandmaster," Fernando replied, spreading his hands, "He is entitled to his secrets."

....

Marcus and Phoebe left New Orleans for Paris. The first person they needed to see was Baldwin. Baldwin, of course, already knew. His spies had told him.

"Congratulations." Were his first words when the couple walked into his office in the city. He looked at the emerald ring on Phoebe's left hand and the gold band on Marcus'. He could smell the mating bond between them. At least he had done that properly.

"Thank you uncle." Marcus replied, a little on edge. Baldwin was too calm for his liking.

"You didn't ask my permission," Baldwin observed.

"Do you really care?" Marcus replied.

"No, not particularly." Baldwin looked at Phoebe and smirked, "Welcome, niece." He got up and kissed her both cheeks politely.

"Well, this calls for a family dinner." Baldwin smiled, but Marcus knew that like his grandfather, that smile held so much more beneath it.

.....

The entire family was gathered at Sept-Tours. Phoebe and Marcus came into the hall last, holding hands and smiling. Everyone knew straight away.

"What? When?" Matthew demanded.

Ysabeau didn't look the slightest bit surprised, nor did Baldwin or Fernando.

"You knew?" Matthew looked to his mother, who shrugged. Fernando held up his hands.

"Look at them, how do I say no to that?" Fernando defended, indicating to the couple.

"I validated it brother, so don't worry, it's been recorded in the pedigree." Baldwin smirked at his brother.

"And you didn't think to tell me?" Matthew glared at his brother, slighted that Marcus told Baldwin of all people.

"Not nice, is it?"

"I think we should focus on the really happy news that Marcus and Phoebe are married." Diana smiled as she and Miyako were hugging Phoebe in congratulations.

"Thank you, Diana." Marcus smiled. Gallowglass laughed and hugged them both in congratulations as Miriam did the same.

.....

"We don't elope in this family." Matthew said, once he and Marcus were in his office. Gallowglass came along, in case he needed to split up a fight and Miyako came hoping for a fight.

Gallowglass raised his hand, "Product of an elopement."

"I wanted your support." Marcus said, "At least. I stopped caring for your permission a while back. You couldn't even offer that. I supported you when you mated with Diana. Grandfather supported you!"

"You're young. You are both young." Matthew said, "I understand you wanted to prove to me your commitment-"

"I love Phoebe, and she loves me. This isn't some last-minute, Romeo and Juliet thing we did to piss you off. For once in a long time, I did something not thinking about whether you would approve or not." Marcus retorted.

"I think it's romantic." Miyako said, "And come on, Marcus found someone willing to put up with him. That's a miracle within itself."

"I will." Miriam said, stepping into the office, "It's something Phoebe and I discussed a while back. I thought it would be a little longer, but I agreed to turn her when her and Marcus announced their engagement."

"See? A lot more thought was put into this than you assumed, Matthew." Marcus said, "I'll try not be insulted that you think I would treat something like marriage so lightly."

.....

Diana was with Phoebe who was happy to see the twins again, bouncing Rebecca in her lap.

"They're so big!" Phoebe gushed, cooing at a laughing Rebecca.

"You look so beautiful," Diana smiled, flicking through the photographs on Phoebe's phone. That had sent Marthe the printouts.

"I'm so sorry you two felt like you had to elope," Diana said

"I quite liked it. It was intimate, everything we wanted." Phoebe assured, smiling fondly at the memories.

"Marcus was more hurt. Matthew didn't offer his support," Phoebe explained,.

Diana frowned at that. She had no idea, though she had been dealing with a lot, "Well, I offer my full support, always. You two are perfect for one another."

"Thanks, Diana." Diana pulled her in for a side hug. The babies squealed.

"That's right, you have a big sister." Diana cooed in a soft voice reserved for her babies and Phoebe laughed, "I know what I sound like, shut up."

....

At dinner that evening, everyone was in high spirits.

"May I dance with my daughter?" Matthew asked after Phoebe and Marcus had danced. They both looked at him, surprised, but this was his olive branch.

And they accepted it.

"You may." Phoebe smiled taking his hand.

[rosemary-writes]

I can’t, I’m so sorry

(David x Female!Reader)

AN: this story is basically me just ranting about my experience over the past two weeks. It’s very hard going through the grief process and I wanted to share my experience through my writing. This story is kind of a self insert but I still like it

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, losing a loved one, grief, mourning, crying, unhealthy habits, recollection of memories, soft!David, maybe out of character David, general sadness, mentions of a cemetery, vampire powers.

Word count: 3.8k

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO ANY OF THE ABOVE WARNINGS

“I like to pretend that you ran away, that you’re living on an island and have a garden and a dog and that your brothers drop by to bring you groceries and books and that you are very happy and free.” - S.C. Pacheco

It happened so quickly. No one saw it coming, but then again, does anyone ever really see death coming?

You were preparing for finals. It was the last two weeks of your first year at college and you had been studying non stop. You were going to end this year with a bang and have a great extended summer without worry in your head.

Then, the phone call happened. It was so unexpected. Dad called and asked if you were alone. Thankfully, your psychology class was on a five minute break and you were out in the hallway. Dad immediately said that he didn’t know how to break it to you gently so he was just going to say it. Following his statement, he told you how your great grandmother had a stroke and she had about a day to a month to live. The hallway stood still and the chatter of classrooms ceased into nothing.

Tears had welled up in your eyes and began to flow down your face. Nothing stopped them as your dad kept telling you about everything that happened. Your grandparents, uncles, aunts, and even your mom went to the hospital to see her. It was a two hour drive. Your dad had said that your mother was going to bring you home when all of your classes were done, for the day, so you could be in an area of comfort. The only reason he said that was because the history of your mental health wasn't the best at all. The previous two weeks were spent being in bed because the stress of school began to weigh heavily in your chest.

The weight in your chest had lessened over the past few days but the news of your great grandmother brought it back. Your face was red as the tears kept flowing from your eyes. Dad said he loved you before letting you hang up. Your whimpers and scattered breathing echoed in the hallway. Hot tears dripped from your chin and onto your sweater as you ran into the bathroom. Thankfully it was empty and you were able to let out your cries. The yellow lights flickered as you fell to your knees. She was your only great grandmother and she loved you greatly. Everyone told you that you were special because you were her eldest great granddaughter. The passing quote in your head practically made you scream out in confusion and upset.

Many minutes passed before your psychology teacher burst into the bathroom. She found you on the floor, face wet with tears. Immediately she came to your side and began shushing you while wrapping her arms around you. The only words you could cry out were “She’s dying and I’m not there.” After that, the day fuzzed into nothing. Your close friend had to come and get you for your other classes. She told your teachers how you were leaving early in the week because your great grandmother was dying. Thankfully, your teachers understood and gave you extensions on every assignment that was late.

Later in the evening, your mother came to get you. The car ride was very quiet and so was the weekend. It was spent with you occasionally crying while listening to your family plan her funeral. It was also spent with you remembering your childhood in her house.

The smells and sounds lingered in your mind constantly. Sometimes you’d hear the ghost of her grandfather clock when you couldn’t sleep.

Sadly, you couldn’t sleep most days. A week came and went and you were in the start of your finals week. It was three days filled with exams. Tuesday was the first day of exams. Thankfully, there was only one exam. When class was over, your teacher asked to speak with you. She gave you an enormous hug and told you that you passed her class. With tears forming in your eyes she told you that your great grandmother would be very proud. After that, she wished you the best in life and you went back to your dorm with your close friend.

As if on cue, your phone rang. When you picked it up you immediately could tell it was your dad. He told you that your great grandmother passed in her sleep early that morning. You knew this news was coming but no amount of preparation could prepare you to hear that. Tears fell from your eyes as he told you to get through the next few days before moving out and coming home. You both said, “I love you.” before hanging up.

Later that night, you cried until the sun gently arose over the tall evergreen trees. The next few days were spent in a daze. Your friends comforted you and told you that they’d always be there for you as you cried and wanted to go home. You took your exams and packed up your room and left the college. You were so happy to leave with your mother and go home for the summer. However, the shadow of grief clung to your skirt the entire time, even as the evening turned into night and then stretched into morning.

With sad eyes, you had looked into the mirror as you applied your makeup and got dressed for her funeral. The dress you wore was long sleeved and it just about touched the ground. You sighed. It was going to be a long drive through the flat farmland to get to the town of your childhood. When your family got to the old cemetery, your father told you that it was a beautiful day for her to be laid to rest.

And it was. It really was. The sun was shining, there were no clouds, and the gentle breeze turned your warm tears cold. Birds and butterflies fluttered around the graves and danced with each other. Even as the priest recited the carefully picked words, you thought of how it was a beautiful day. When he was done speaking, your mother held you as you cried. She let go when she began to cry uncontrollably. Your younger cousins came to your side and wept with you as you walked amongst your sleeping ancestors and extended family.

At the end of the funeral, you tearfully kissed her headstone goodbye and whispered to your great grandfather that you know they're happy now, laying side by side. When you got into the car to go back to Santa Carla, you cried until you dozed off under the warm afternoon sun.

Before you had left for the whole ordeal, you called David and told him about everything that had happened. He knew that your great grandmother had a stroke and that your whole family was stricken with grief. He also knew that you had never experienced grief or the process of mourning. So, he made a promise that when you came back he would stay by your side. You gave a huff into the payphone as he told you that he would do anything to ease the process. Before hanging up, you asked if it would be okay if you could stay at the cave for a couple of days. He told you yes and that he loved you before hanging up.

When your family finally got back to the house, you immediately fled to your room. Your parents didn’t want to bother you so they left you alone. They didn’t know that you were going to spend a few days at the cave. Infact, they didn’t know you were dating David. Your parents just thought he was a college friend.

Grabbing a bag, you began shoving clothes into it. You grabbed a few necessities and put those in there as well. When you figured you had everything, you heard David's bike outside. However, before you left, you noticed your great grandmother's ring on your dresser. It was given to you on your sixteenth birthday. It was an heirloom that was passed down from your great grandmother. When she first saw you wearing it, she had complimented how you reminded her of her younger self. While looking at the ring, your hand flew to the pearl choker that was resting around your neck. They were hers as well.

You grabbed the ring and slipped it on your ring finger before leaving. Your parents must’ve gone to bed because the house was dark and their bedroom door was shut. In the kitchen, you pulled out a notepad and wrote down that you were going to be with friends for a few days.

You left your house and noticed David was at the end of your driveway. He had a cigarette in his mouth and he was looking at your neighbors house.

“David.” you called gently. His head whipped towards you and a smirk appeared on his lips. His fingers came up and took the cigarette from his lips. When you walked to him, he gently pulled you close and gave you a quick kiss. When you pulled away, his hand came up to your cheek. You looked up at him in the moonlight and could see that his face was laced with concern as his eyes studied your face.

“Hop on kitten, let’s go to the cave.” he said, as his hand fell from your face. You got on behind him and when you wrapped your arms around him he began to drive through the night. Usually, you would be happy and laughing with David as he drove erratically to get you excited. He loved hearing you shout as he would go over hills but tonight was quiet. Of course he knew why. You were grieving and he wasn’t expecting you to do any of that. When you asked to stay at the cave, he was honestly surprised.

However, part of you felt like you needed to shout and laugh. You had mentally prepared for her death for a week and now it was hours after the funeral. Part of you begged to be left alone with your ever changing mind and the other part wanted to be with David in his arms as you two laughed and talked trash about the people of Santa Carla.

Instead, your face was resting against his back as he drove to the cave. The night was clear and the moon was bright. In the serenity of the night you closed your eyes. Your eyes were irritated at how much you had been crying and you hoped that tonight David wouldn’t see you cry. He had never seen you cry and you wanted to keep it that way. You always stayed happy and energetic around him. Sometimes you could hear David whisper that he loved your spark when he thought you were asleep. He didn’t know that your great grandmother repeated the same thing many years ago.

You sighed as you felt David’s bike slow to a stop. Opening your eyes, you saw that the both of you were at one of the entrances to the cave. He parked his bike next to the three others and turned it off. Carefully, you unwrapped your arms from him as he got off. As you got off, David offered his hand and you took it. When you stood next to him, hand in hand, he kissed your forehead. You smiled at the affection and he led you down into the cave.

“I know you won’t mind but, me and the guys are going to go feed when you get inside. I’ll change my clothes before coming back” David said, as he led you through the tunnel. You hummed and looked ahead at the gentle glowing light ahead. In the main area of the cave you could hear the noises of the other boys. David’s grip on your hand tightened as you came to the steep slope that led to the main area. The first time he brought you here, you slipped going down. You smiled at the cherished memory as you carefully walked down. Thankfully, this time you made it to the bottom.

“Hey David, hey Scoob” Marko said, looking up as you and David walked into the main area of the cave. You scoffed as David let go of your hand.

“How many times do I have to tell you to not call me that?” you asked, as David walked over towards the others. Marko gave you a teasing smile as Paul came from god knows where. Dwayne followed after him and the two joined the others.

“Anyways, I think you guys should get a move on. I can tell you’re antsy.” you said. David was breathing a bit more heavily than usual and you knew that was his body telling him to eat. Without word, the boys turned and walked away to one of the many exits. As the others ascended into the night, David turned to look at you. It was his way of saying goodbye but you also knew he was asking a question.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” you said, grabbing your bag. Without speaking, he too turned away and followed the others.

You sighed as you watched him leave. It wasn’t your first time alone in the cave. Sometimes, they would go out and feed while you slept and you’d wake up in an empty nest. But, right now, you needed to be alone to just breathe. So, you went down one of the hallways to your little sanctuary. Months ago, you found a little safe haven in the depths of the cave. It was your little room and it was filled with things you found and liked. As you walked down the dim path, you could see the curtains in the doorway. Carefully, when you stood in front of them, you pushed them aside and stepped into the little safe haven. It was dark, but thankfully you had candles in different places around the room. Setting your stuff down on the bed, you grabbed your lighter from your dress pocket. You carefully lit the candles and adjusted them to keep from scorching other objects.

When you were finished you plopped down onto the mattress that was covered in blankets and pillows. You didn’t know how long it had been since you last slept. The nights were spent with you crying until you couldn’t but by morning, you were ready to repeat the whole cycle.

It sucked. Grief wasn’t supposed to be like this. Many people told you that after a few days, everything would go back to normal. Well, you wanted the feeling to go away immediately. You hated this neverending feeling of sadness. It was like a child clinging to their mother’s skirt.

One of the worst parts of it all was the day going through your head. You couldn’t stop thinking about her funeral. Was this normal? To constantly think of the funeral? Was it also normal to cry so much? You just couldn’t understand the whole grief process at all.

Gently, you got up from the mattress and walked over to the old mirror that David found for you. The candles in the room gave your features a warm glow in the mirror. You looked at your face and how it changed. You looked different. The shadows under your eyes had darkened and your eyes looked irritated. Glancing down to the pearl choker, you felt your throat tighten. The words of the past week began to echo loudly in your head.

She wouldn’t want you to fuss over her.

Even the brightest stars have to dim.

She loved you. She loved you greatly.

Then the tears came. They came so fast that you were honestly scared by them. They fell down your face as a sob escaped your mouth.

It wasn’t fair. None of it was. The pain in your body felt amplified as you sank to the floor. The worst part of it all was you couldn’t stop thinking of her. The way she kissed your cheeks when she saw you and when you left. The way her hands gently ran through your hair as you slept in her lap as a child. How she would sneakily give you chocolates after Christmas dinner and not tell anyone. Her mischievous smile flashed in your mind and it only made you cry harder. Why, why, why? Why did she have to die?

______

From the entrance of the cave, David stood still. Your sadness had reverberated through the cave like a loud radio. He couldn’t hear you but he felt the grief. Slowly, he walked to your room. He had forgotten how grief felt. It was a horrible feeling that he never wanted to experience again. However, he wanted to comfort you the best he could. As he got closer to your room, he could hear you. He heard the rapid beating of your heart as you let your emotions out. When he stood in front of the curtain, he hesitated. Would you want him in there?

David brushed the thought aside as he remembered that it was your first time with grief. He could practically smell the confusion and anger from your tears. Quickly, he opened the curtains and stepped into your room. On the farthest side of the room, you were leaning against the wall as you were trying to catch your breath. Your face was red and wet with tears. The eyeliner you wore was smudged around your eyes and David could see where it had trailed.

When you had calmed down just a little, David cleared his throat. Immediately, you turned around and met his still face. He held no emotion as he looked at your tragic form.

“Get out.” you said, quickly wiping your face. David did not move from his spot. Instead, he walked towards you.

“David, get out! I don’t want you to see me like this!” You yelled, as you turned away to shield yourself from him. He said nothing as he came behind you and wrapped his arms around you. It was so gentle that it almost didn’t seem like David. Again, you tried to say something else but it died on your lips. Instead a whimper came out as you fell to the floor and David gently fell with you. He kept your back pressed against his chest as you kept crying.

“I-I’m sorry.” you mumbled through your tears. David’s face nuzzled your neck as you wept uncontrollably.

“It’s okay. I’m right here.” he quietly said against your skin as you kept trying to steady your breathing. After a few minutes, you had calmed down enough but tears still kept falling down your face.

David listened as your heartbeat kept getting calmer by the minute. It was a soothing sound to him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, looking at your face. You scoffed, “No, but I’ll live.” you mumbled quietly. David hummed at your response.

“David, I hate this.” you stated with a sniffle. He perked up at your words and listened carefully.

“I hate everything about grief, I hate the confusion, I hate the sleepless nights, I hate the crying and I-” you cut off the sentence as you tried to not go into another crying fit. Taking in a shaky breath, you continued, “And I hate that I don’t know what to do. This whole process fucking sucks.”

David sighed and kissed your cheek. “You’re still in the early stages of grief. It’s confusing and it’s scary to go through. Especially by yourself.” he explained calmly, “One of the best things you can do is try to think of all of the good things that happened in her life. I detest seeing you this way, but I know it’s something you have to go through.” he finished.

You sighed and wiped your face, “But, why does it have to hurt so damn bad?” you asked, turning to try and look at his face. David moved back so he could look you in the eye.

“It hurts because you lost someone you loved. Your mind can’t understand how life will be different without her. Eventually, you’ll understand how to live life like before and carry on again.” he replied, calmly.

His eyes fell to the pearl choker around your neck and his hands moved to take it off. You didn’t object to the feeling of his cold hands as they fumbled with the clasp. Carefully, he took it off and moved to set it somewhere else. “Lets move to the mattress, hm?” David suggested. You nodded and the two of you got up and went to lay down together on the mattress. Instead of laying next to you, David was sitting next to you.

You closed your eyes when your back hit the soft blankets. It was comforting but you didn’t want to sleep even though your body was begging for it. You were just scared of what you would dream of.

“Would you like me to take off your ring?” David asked, holding your hand up to his face. You quirked your eyebrow at him. “Why would I need to take off her ring?” you asked sitting up. David rolled his eyes, “You don’t want it to fall off while you sleep. It might get lost.” he said, meeting your gaze.

“Uh, it won’t get lost while I sleep because I’m not going to sleep.” you replied, moving your hand away from his.

David scoffed at your words, “Kitten, this isn’t up for debate. I know you haven’t slept in days and it’s not healthy for you.” he argued, moving his hands to your face.

“David, I don’t need you to tell me what to do.” You declared. He looked down at you. His eyes were serious and you could tell that he was getting annoyed with this conversation.

“You are going to sleep and I don’t care if you refuse. I’m going to do this anyways” he said, finally. Before you could answer, you slipped into a deep sleep. Your body fell back onto the mattress and David was satisfied. He didn’t like using his vampire powers on you but, he felt like this was necessary. He looked down at your hand and carefully pulled the ring off. David got up from the mattress and set the ring down next to the pearl choker. He looked down at your sleeping form and smirked before laying down next to you. Tonight, all would be well for a while.

[iamtheblondestblonde]

The Clark Kent Effect

Part One

AN: So this is meant to be the beginning of a (semi short) series, depending on how well it’s received. Feedback is therefore more than appreciated and always remember I love reading tags. Feel free to message me or send me anons as well, every interaction makes my day :) 

To all my American followers: please go vote tomorrow, I don’t even live there but I still know how important it is.

Word Count: 2.9k (short boi)

Warnings: alcohol and one swear word maybe? 

Part Two

My other writing can be found here

While your costume had seemed like a great idea two days ago you now thought differently.

Technically it was a great costume, but only because you hadn’t exactly planned on needing to step out of the club to make an angry phone call. Alas here you were, legs shaking and teeth clattering because of your stupidly short dress, this situation the last nail in the coffin that would finally pronounce your disaster with Colin dead for good. You weren’t sad about it in the least, only cold. If only you’d thought of grabbing your jacket on your way outside this wouldn’t be as bad, it was the end of October and you were in New York after all, but you’d been so angry to see his caller ID on your screen that you’d stormed out without thinking, which you now deeply regretted.

Stepping back inside was like heaven and running into a wall at the same time, if said wall was made out of hot air and the smell of sweat, hairspray and alcohol. You really shouldn’t be happy about stuffy air, but at least you weren’t shivering anymore so you were going to mark it down as a success in your books. Since the restrooms were close to your right you made a quick detour, checking if everything was still where it was supposed to be.

At least your boobs hadn’t fallen out yet and you dismissed the judgy stares in the restroom as you readjusted your cleavage and reapplied your bold red lipstick. Normally you’d stare as well, not judging but usually intrigued by women who portrayed such confidence but tonight you were one of these women and you wouldn’t let anyone else ruin it. You’d earned a good night out after finally escaping Colin’s manipulative fuckboy ways and telling him to get lost for good.

So with your chin up and your shoulders straight you stepped out of the restroom, determined to find your group of friends again so you could get drunk and finally have a good time. It took a bit longer than you’d like to admit, your heels only barely giving your tiny frame a height advantage but then you finally spotted the fluffy halo of your best friend. After making sure that it was really her – there were enough angels in this room to make any priest happy after all – you quickly made your way over to her.

Or at least you tried.

You’d only gotten a few steps in when your heel got caught in the costume of a guy dressed up as mummy – which really only consisted of his regular clothes and what you estimated to be about three rolls of toilet paper – and you stumbled. You could already see yourself in the emergency room of the closest hospital with a broken nose from crashing to the ground, blood running down your face and staining your already red dress. Perhaps you could play it off as a part of your costume but it’d still hurt and your night would definitely be over.

But none of that happened because you were saved by a very handsome Superman. He’d stood with his back to you, you’d definitely spotted his broad shoulders underneath the stretched blue fabric earlier, but he’d turned in your direction right before gravity had decided to take its toll on you. Apparently his costume was justified though, because he caught you with cat-like reflexes, wrapping his hands around your arms and pulling you back towards an upright position before anything damaging could happen.

He was a lot taller than you so the first thing you really noticed of him was his throat and perhaps you really should’ve dressed up as a vampire because you noticed that he had a very sexy throat, if that was even a thing. Your weird thoughts were interrupted by him chuckling though and your gaze quickly snapped up to meet his and you really weren’t sure if you should congratulate or scold yourself for how you’d managed to end up in his arms.

The handsome stranger was wearing glasses in true Clark Kent fashion and his hair was better than any DC artist could have dreamed of, perfectly tousled in the way that showed that he liked to run his hands through it and you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t tempted to do the same. In the dim lighting of the club you couldn’t make out the color of his eyes behind his glasses but they could honestly be yellow and he’d still be hot as fuck.

Sometime during your almost-fall your hands had ended up on his chest and you really should be embarrassed about the fact that you were practically feeling him up but somehow you couldn’t find yourself to care enough to let go. You relaxed your hands from the tight grasp they had on his shirt and instead carefully splayed them out on his chest as if you were going to push yourself off of him but not really doing so. With how you were pressed against him you could feel the heat radiating through his shirt and how firm his body was, his muscular built more and more evident with every passing second. His hands had started to wander as well, moving up from the side of your arms towards the top of your shoulders, the size of them burning itself into your mind as you just stared at each other.

If one were to ask you what day it was right this moment, you honestly wouldn’t be able to answer them despite everyone in this club dressed in Halloween costumes. Mozart himself could have returned from the dead to perform “Eine kleine Nachtmusik” with a string quartett in the middle of this dancefloor and you probably wouldn’t have noticed right now, too caught up in the eyes of this handsome stranger.

When he reached up with one of his hands to adjust the little devil’s horns on top of your head you blinked in surprise, finally snapping out of your daze.

“Oh my God I’m so sorry, I totally didn’t mean to crash into you but my heel got caught and-“, you began to ramble, your sense of common decency finally kicking in but he only laughed and since neither of you had taken a step backwards yet you could feel it rumbling through his chest.

“Don’t worry about it, I don’t mind having beautiful girls quite literally falling for me”, he joked and if he were any other guy you probably would’ve scoffed at his choice of words but somehow the boyish charm worked well for him and you found yourself grinning as you came up with a response.

“Mmm let’s hope this isn’t a normal occurrence for you because I’m not a fan of getting caught in traffic.” You finally found the strength to take a, very reluctant, step back, untangling yourself from his grasp and dropping your hands but still smiling up at him. He definitely had the potential to be your catch for the night. You could really use the distraction after all.

Your blissful thoughts were interrupted by someone tugging at your arm though, a look over your shoulder revealing a pouting angel dressed in white and with a bouncing halo. It seemed like Emily had found you instead after you’d gotten distracted by your hero.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over the place for you”, she whined and you could tell by her slurred words that she’d gotten quite the head start while you were outside on your phone as she was well on her way to get plastered. Otherwise she never would’ve interrupted a conversation with a hot guy either, it was an unspoken wingwoman rule after all.      

“Come on, Dana just brought a new round of shots and you need to catch up!” And with that she tightened her grip on your wrist and pulled you away. You barely managed to tell the handsome stranger to come find you later before he disappeared between the writhing bodies and was out of your sight.

Way too many shots later you found yourself on the dance floor, intoxicated and having a great time.

Your thoughts hadn’t wandered to Superman in quite a while, too consumed by alcohol and the thumping beat of the music, until you spotted him leaning against the banister of the top floor, drink in one hand and definitely watching you. Again, this would be creepy if he were anyone else but in this case it only made you appreciate the current sensual song even more, your eyes never leaving his as you moved your body to the beat. You were planning on going home with him later either way, you could tease him a little more before then, show him what he could have if he played his cards right.

He was still watching you a couple of songs later when your throat had gotten dry and your heels were starting to grow uncomfortable. In need of a break you pointed towards the bar, hoping that he’d understand and when he nodded you smiled brightly, excusing yourself from your group of friends so you could grab some water. You were done drinking for tonight, much more exciting things laying ahead of you and you wanted to be sober for them.

Water was apparently a welcome change from the regular orders the bartenders got because you were served immediately, a cool bottle set in front of you seconds later. You checked over your shoulder before taking a sip, spotting your Superman as he made his way towards you with a smile, one you returned before turning back around to climb on the stool that had just freed up so you could give your feet a well-deserved break.

When you felt a tap on your shoulder you fully expected it to be the hot guy, your most dazzling smile instantly on your lips as you turned around but it quickly fell off your face as you realized who it really was.

When you were younger you’d often imagined yourself in this moment, thought of what you’d say when you’d finally see him again after all this time apart. A small part of you had pined after him for years and fantasies of how your eyes would meet from across the room and how everything else would stop mattering had filled your daydreams once upon a time. But as you looked at him now there were no butterflies, no fireworks and you could still hear some remix of “Monster Mash” blaring over the speakers, the world was definitely still turning.

Perhaps you’d built up what had been between the two of you in your mind in the years of his absence, put him on a pedestal – he deserved to be one though because through everything he had been nothing short of a great guy – but as you looked at him you realized that all that was in the past. There was just a warm afterglow of what once was. As you looked at him now, there was absolutely no doubt that you didn’t love Anthony Beauvillier anymore.

“I wasn’t sure if it was really you, but wow Y/N you look great”, his familiar voice met your ears and it took you a second to realize that he’d slipped into French, the way the two of you had done countless times as teenagers.

You probably resembled a fish with the way you were opening and closing your mouth without saying anything but you couldn’t help yourself. Seeing Tito in this club had hit you like a fright train and you hadn’t expected it at all, which only made it worse.

Almost 20 Million people lived in New York State and over 8.3 Million in New York City alone. Brooklyn housed well over 500.000 people as well and yet you still managed to run into your ex in this club, despite the both of you growing up in Québec. If you were any good at math you would calculate the probability of this happening but you’d always sucked at it and it really wouldn’t help your situation either. You reminded yourself that you both worked here now but that was absolutely beside the point.

Before you managed to embarrass yourself even further you shook your head to clear your thoughts, smiling at the guy who had once held your heart before making the break into the NHL. He was dressed as a boy scout, with medals pinned to his shirt, the scarf thingy and everything and the costume was so incredibly him that you immediately felt catapulted back into your teenage years. It was easy to fall back into your old routine then.

“Oh yeah, do you think your Mom would still speak so highly of me if she saw me dressed as a slutty devil?”, you joked and he threw his head back in laughter, taking you even more by surprise when he threw his arms around you in a hug. It was a bit awkward with you sitting on the bar stool and all and it made you realize that he himself didn’t even feel the same anymore, his career of being a professional athlete shaping his body into a much more bulkier version of the one you were used to.

As you looked over his shoulder you caught the gaze of your Superman and your thoughts immediately returned to him. What must he be thinking of you hugging another stranger at the bar after telling him to come see you? The confusion was evident of his face, a crease between his eyebrows giving his thoughts away and you noticed how he scrunched up his nose in a very cute way so you immediately pulled back from Tito, reaching up to adjust your horns as a disguise for your sudden movement.

“So, did you finally manage to make your dreams of living and working in New York City come true?”, he asked as he took a step closer to let someone else pass by and you nodded, amazed that he still remembered after all these years. He really was one of the good guys.

“Yep, I finally made it, although it’s not as glamorous as I thought it would be. But maybe that’s only us working class people, I’m sure it’s a lot different in your line of work.” Thankfully he picked up on your teasing and wasn’t insulted, only laughing even more as he finally had the space to move next to you so he could look at the crowd as well.

“Speaking of work..”, he trailed off as he switched back to English and to your utter disbelief he waved your Superman over. Superman was reluctant to move at first, that much you could tell by looking at him, and since you watched him extra closely you were probably the only one to catch him flinching a little as Tito threw his arm around his shoulders but his confused expression was obvious as he looked between the two of you.

“Y/N, this is my teammate and best friend Mat, I’m sure you’ve heard of him. Mat, this is my ex Y/N. You’ve also heard of her.”

Of course you’d heard of Mathew Barzal, last year’s Calder winner and rising star among the NHL’s elite players but it seemed like you were a victim of the Clark Kent Effect because you hadn’t recognized him at all with the glasses on.

Now your Superman had a name but the only thing you could focus on were the words “best friend”. No matter how hot Mat was and how much you’d wanted him before, very much imagining him helping you out of your tight dress, you couldn’t do that to Tito.

Mat seemed to come to the same realization as you because he plastered what could only be described as a business smile on his face, extending his hand for you to shake. You took it, relishing in the way his warm palm felt against yours and allowing yourself to enjoy his touch one last time before letting go and smiling at him with sad eyes as you introduced yourself.

Tito stayed to order a drink, pulling Mat and you into a conversation and therefore preventing your escape and while that was already bad enough in itself, he unknowingly took your breath away when he asked Mat:

“Hey, did you ever find that hot klutz you told me about? The one that fell into your arms earlier?”

Tito had his back towards the both of you so he didn’t see the way Mat looked down at you with sad eyes as well before pulling himself together and responding:

“Yeah, but turns out she’s not available after all.”

The rest of the night passed in a blur, you’d returned to alcohol after saying goodbye to Tito and Mat and promising Tito to stay in touch, so you barely remembered climbing into an uber hours later and only really came to your senses when you chugged a water bottle in your kitchen.

“Wait, weren’t you planning on going home with that hot Superman you mentioned earlier? What happened to him?”, Emily asked from her spot on the couch, her usual spot after a night out since your apartment was closer.

“I guess he left”, you answered, not really willing to go into any details right now.

“Aw, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

And wasn’t that the truth.

[aros001]

Read through light novel vol. 7. Random thoughts.

I swear Goblin Slayer looks like he's blushing through his armor on that cover. I don't blame him, given it's Cow Girl, but that's what it looks like.

I always get a laugh out of Goblin Slayer's completely unwillingness or inability to remember any type of monster outside of goblins. I think he only knows what vampires and dragon are because they're the most popular monster adventurers want to beat and thus the ones he'd hear about the most. He repeatedly can't remember what an ogre is despite dropping an ocean on one, nor the dark elf or troll, and I think last volume he needed a long minute to remember what giant rats are. No surprise he can't remember what the Loch Ness Monster's name was in this book, or what an elephant is. Mokele Mubenbe. It's hard for me to even pronounce that.

Lizard Priest was in the process of bringing each of the nuns upstairs into the chapel from the basement storehouse. “Stay strong, now. When dawn breaks, we can take you somewhere less upsetting.” “Thank you... Truly...” “Think nothing of it. We may revere different deities, but monkeys came from lizards, in the end. That makes us cousins.” “Heh-heh... You lizardmen...say the strangest...things...”

I don't say this often enough but Lizard Priest is just kind of the best, you know? He's like a big, scaly, green teddy bear. He's a very comforting presence and such an easy person for everyone, including those of different faiths like Priestess and the elves, to be friends with.

At first I was disappointed Priestess didn't get a cure poison miracle, given how often goblins come at the party using poisoned weapons, but her Purify miracle has certainly proved its usefulness, both for cleaning water and air as well as helping psychologically by cleaning up the victims of the goblins. Doesn't restore their stolen virginity but at least leaves less marks and filth for them to be constantly reminded what the goblins did to them. Plus, Goblin Slayer is no stranger to using smoke or poison gas, so Purify is probably good to have on hand to keep such methods from harming the party themselves.

In the middle of this flood of stories, Goblin Slayer said, “So this is your home.” “That’s right.” “That’s good.” “Well—” High Elf Archer’s eyes narrowed like a smiling cat’s. “It’s where my heart is.” Goblin Slayer nodded. Cow Girl blinked at him for a moment. Then he said, “And there are goblins near it.” The note of anger in his voice was unmistakable.

I love all the members of the party, so naturally I'm enjoying all the bonding moments between Goblin Slayer and High Elf Archer in this book, as well as the parallels he keeps drawing between them, especially in regards to their sisters. Their interactions are fun because their personalities contrast so much but in a different way than his and Priestess' or her and Dwarf Shaman's.

Then she went on, “Actually, even a lot of elvish adventurers act like that, especially if they’ve just left the forest.” It’s not that they have no sense of danger, just a poor grasp of scale.

That last bit is a good way of describing a lot of this series. There are people ignorant of how truly dangerous the goblins can be but outside of porcelain ranks it's usually not deliberately so. They just live in a world of other insanely large threats that don't like being ignored, with the elves in particular having members of their species whom lived through the old battles of the gods. Goblins are basically pests and goblin slaying pest control. They're a problem but barely a blip on the radar when you're comparing them to freaking Sauron, whom it feels like you just recently finally got rid of.

There is something absolutely hilarious to me that this man in dirty leather and steel armor, coated in faded red stains, who refuses to ever take his helmet off, barely talks, frequently walks in a manner that's described as violent, and who's sole obsession it is to wipe out every last goblin in existence, is known as The Kindest Man on the Frontier. But I still love it because it makes sense. Most villages on the frontier can't get help with their goblin problems because there's not a lot of fame or money in killing goblins and bigger threats are given more the priority, so they're just left on their own. But then Goblin Slayer comes in, doing the job without any thought to reward or praise. He's saved god knows how many kidnapped women prevented the destruction of countless villages. From the outside, yeah, it looks like just simple kindness. Get to know him a little better and you see that it's obsession. And when you get as close as Priestess and Cow Girl, you agree that it's kindness.

It's so cool that the elf adventurer the party saved on their first quest together made a reappearance, even if it's a small one. Like with Wizard's little brother wanting to avenge her, it's good to show that the people brutalized by the goblins aren't just props to show how serious the situation is. They're real (albeit fictional) people, who had their own lives and people who loved them, so having them still matter later in the story and them trying to get at least some closure is good writing.

I was talking with someone before in my vol. 6 post that something I really like about Goblin Slayer's character is his immaturity. Not that he's whiny and bratty like a kid but rather his trauma stunted him in a few ways. He likely had nothing to do with his village being attacked by goblins but to this day he blames himself for what happened to his sister, from him hiding and doing nothing to save her to in this volume believing she would have long moved on from their village if she didn't have to take care of him. Taking on all that blame and guilt, it's such a childish way of thinking and his trauma (and Burgler's training) meant he never was able to grow out of it. I can just see that little boy under the floorboards, thinking everything that's happening around him is some divine punishment from the gods for something bad he did, like not listening to his sister or getting mad at Cow Girl or literally anything else a kid would normally do.

This world has freaking elevators?! What?! When they first mentioned it I thought it was going to be something involving water or magic or gears, but no! Control panels, keypad, entering a code. It even goes bong when it arrives at its destination. I mean, they say it's not clear whether it operates magically or mechanically but this still feels like a big jump in this world's technology level, considering the most high tech thing I remember prior was ice cream making, and that was a chemical process. I just love the image of Goblin Slayer's party patiently waiting in the elevator as it's going up and soft muzak is playing.

By the time he noticed the change, it was too late. The goblin shaman’s blood had been turned to pure water.

WHOA! Priestess! What the f**k?! Was this her version of strangling the goblin champion with a bundle of hair?! That was awesome!

Also not good for her, given her beliefs. It's a good little conflict for her character and sets up some worry about what'll happen if she does something like this again. The Earth Mother spoke directly to her to warn this was a one-time deal. Would Priestess lose the ability to use Miracles or would the goddess outright smite her for such gross abuse of the powers she gave her? There's also the added conflict that Goblin Slayer praised her for what she did. He's not as important as the Earth Mother but he's still someone Priestess respects and is attached to more than anyone else, so she's going to be conflicted if his life is on the line again.

I've never played DOOM. Still love the reference with Hero.

...Is that why there was an elevator? Is this world some odd combination of DnD, Lord of the Rings, and DOOM?

Even though they showed his image, with everyone else all dressed up for the wedding I'm enjoying imagining Goblin Slayer in his normal armor, just with the addition of a bow tie.

Damn that bouquet tease. Who caught it?! Priestess?! Cow Girl?! Sword Maiden leaping in through the window?!

Original Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/GoblinSlayer/comments/fzwykz/read_through_light_novel_vol_7_random_thoughts/

[piracytheorist]

Ok a quick little (or not) summary (only for the second part, though)

As they continue from talking about Anthony Hopkins being a team player and wanting smaller actors to succeed, Colin goes on to talk about how there are actors who want themselves to be the star. He contrasts that to Hopkins' personality, which is why he still is supportive of smaller actors, also due to his theater background, theater is a place where everyone needs to be at the same level to work. He says how Hopkins wanted to impart his knowledge on him, and Colin feels very lucky and blessed that he had the chance for that. He says Hopkins is the biggest influence he's ever had, and probably will ever have.

Jarlath then talks about how in such a presence, you can't feel cozy, like you've figured it out, but instead you feel that you have something to live up to. Colin says he was terrified in the start, because he was in most of the scenes in The Rite, with only a few scenes with Hopkins that Colin wasn't in. He says it's terrifying to step into the set of a film with such a big budget, and other big actors like Ciarán Hinds and Toby Jones, people he admired so much and he wanted to do well in the film.

On his first scene with Hopkins, Hopkins told Colin, "Listen, it's just acting. Enjoy it." And that helped him ease into the job.

Then he talks about how he prepared himself as a mortician/exorcist for the film. He read a lot of literature about exorcists, he went to a morgue and dressed an actual dead body, all of it stuff he never thought he'd do.

Jarlath picks up on that and asks him for more about it. And boy, did Colin talk about it. He says how even having the film The Exorcist in your house, when they were young, felt like it was an invitation for bad things to happen (he says it was banned in Ireland too). He says he asked the real-life priest that Michael Kovak was inspired from, if he thinks that he (Colin) is inviting in something bad by doing this, playing in this film. The priest said "Yeah, maybe. But if you believe in it, then you believe that God is there to protect you" and Colin was like "I shouldn't have asked". He says that of all exorcists he spoke to, none of them tried to make him believe, they just shared their experience without trying to convince him.

He then talks about an exorcism he attended, where a young woman who was going for the ritual, she didn't want him in the same room but they did meet outside of it, and she looked at him in such a cold way, that he thought if someone was skinning him alive in front of her she would just stand and watch. He says he hadn't seen anyone look at him like that before, hasn't since, and doesn't want to. Then she went inside the room, and after she was done she came out, smiled at him and then left. He stood to listen from outside the room as the exorcism happened, and he talked to the exorcist about it later, and overall it felt very real and scary to him.

Jarlath asks Colin about the auditions he did before Once Upon a Time. Colin says he got very close to some “very big things”. He says how even though The Rite was very widely known and at the top during its premiere, it got mixed reviews and that affected him, because he put a lot of pressure for it to be amazing, but that a film's success doesn't depend on the actors alone.

Colin mentions the pilot he did for Identity, with Angela Bassett, whom he praised, and that between the film and this pilot he got close to something big... Jarlath simply says what he heard involved wearing a cape. Colin says "That's one of them... or it might not be, I don't know, I can't tell."  

Jarlath asks him if he has the thinking of "I don't want to be in a film where they don't want me," for when he doesn't get a role. Colin says that before The Rite, where he wasn't getting many jobs, he was feeling that he was right for the thing that he didn't get, that it was the one shot he had. But he just said he had to believe in himself and keep going at it. He says that like a vampire craves blood, he craves the work, he loves pretending to be someone else.

He talks about how Helen supported him, and how lucky he's been to have her by her side, as well as his brother and parents. He says that there were times he was ready to give up, but with having someone to say he believes in him, it meant so much to him.

Jarlath asks him about what was his big realization moment for Once Upon a Time, Colin replies with the scene he had on the Lady Washington, dressed in leather, and working with Robert Carlyle, that he really went "What the hell am I doing". He says that more than anything it was Carlyle's presence, it was like working with Hopkins. Carlyle was one of Colin's favourite actors, he would watch any film he was in, so it was a huge thing for Colin to work with him.

Then he's asked about how working in Once Upon a Time was for him, and if he felt any pressure on it at all. He says he felt a little stressed because the introduction of the character was a big and important thing for the show. He says that in every season, they didn't know if the show was gonna be picked up for a new season until at the very last minute. He says he feels very lucky that he had his wife and kids in Vancouver, so he could still be with them while working. He loved living in Vancouver, he could go there at any time if it was closer to his home. It was important for him to have his kids grow up near family, so even though he loved Vancouver and made some really great friends there, he wanted to go back to Ireland.

Then Jarlath mentions the fandom of OUAT, about how there are people in it that wanted certain things to happen, and that they directed things towards him. Colin says that he's very protective of his family, and that he doesn't want people taking pictures of his children, and that he can't allow people to be disrespectful of his wife. He's been with Helen for 22 years, she's the love of his life, and he doesn't tolerate anyone telling him anything about his own family. They talk about how some people have a feeling of ownership with the characters they watch, and they can't make the distinction between character and actor, how those lives are different.

Jarlath asks him about how it felt when OUAT ended, if there was a feeling of liberation and expanding his horizons after so many years of being dedicated to it. Colin says he adored working in OUAT, and felt very lucky to get to portray a character for such a long period of time. He was, in part, upset when they were finishing and he had to leave a place that he had made such good friends at, but he was excited for what would come next. He wants to play as many different characters as he can.

They then talk about Dolly Parton. Colin says that when he first met Dolly, she was talking about the world and all and as he was listening to her he was thinking "I can now understand how people join cults." He says she has amazing charisma and energy. When the offer came for him to play in a Western, and working with Dolly, he knew he just couldn't say no. She's got so many stories, and when working with Colin she told him about the stories behind some of her songs, like Jolene. He says she's exactly as you see her, she doesn't put on a performance or a persona in interviews and such.

"JJ Sneed. It's a bit of fun," Colin says.

Then Jarlath jumps to how the relationship was behind the scenes of The Right Stuff. Colin says they were living close to each other for five months, so they had a lot of fun together, despite how serious the show was. They became very close, and he says that the real astronauts as well that they portray came to be very close with each other. He mentions the time he and the rest of the cast went to Disneyworld and basically became ten-year-olds. He says that when filming such a serious show, having some craic is needed to balance it out.

He says choosing to film something now is complicated, as he has a family and he doesn’t want to quarantine for two weeks, go and film for a few days, then come back and quarantine for another two weeks before he's with family again. He feels glad that in this difficult time he had the chance to be with his family. He mentions that his dad was having health issues, but he's good now, and again he felt lucky he didn't have to be away during all that.

~

And that’s what I got! I probably missed a few things, but hearing Colin talk about all that stuff, especially his experiences with the exorcisms and stuff, is so interesting! If you want to listen to it yourself, you can become a patreon for Jarlath right here.