#in not acting suspicious af

[minetteskvareninova]

When some people told me that during the investigation, Bali doesn’t come off as having a high opinion of the sultanas, I didn’t expect to AGREE with him.

[a-very-fond-farewell]

tried to take a day off from writing. still woke up at 5am. let’s write then 😈🔥

[shovel-hooligan-frontera]

scared of getting attacked on my main bc the fandom this is about is defensive as hell sometimes so im putting it here where the fandom that will see it will definitely not be mean to me over this not at all hot take

🎶pleeeeaaaassseeee stop being weird about characters who are minors 🎶 i dont care if they dont act like a kid or are drawn to look older if theyre 17 theyre 17 its weird to commission nsfw of them or read kinktober fic of them if its not time skip/aged up🎶

[5sospenguinqueen]

He’s Just Ken | Lando Norris x Volleyball! Reader

Summary: Lando tries to tell the Grid that he's dating an Olympic Volleyball player but instead, they publicly accuse him of lying to them.

Warnings: None? Swearing. Fluff.

Requested: Yes by Anon (here)

2024 season, slightly skewed timeline haha

Face claim is Jordan Thompson but also rando pinterest pics used. American Volleyball player to fit in with 'the twist'

F1 Masterlist

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landonorris just posted

liked by ln4, maxfewtrell and others

landonorris non-race weekends mean quality time with my trophy and watching the olympics opening ceremony 

2,004 comments

maxfewtrell don’t objectify me like that. i’m more than just your trophy 

→ landonorris you wish you were my trophy 

teamusa can we count on your support?

→ user1 um, he’s british so no..?

logansargeant looking forward to volleyball

→ landonorris absolutely

→ oscarpiastri it’s just sad now

→ user2 he’s not allowed to enjoy volleyball?

georgrussell63 look, guys, he’s trying to act like a wag 

→ alex_albon okay, moving this to social media is a step too far, mate

→ charles_leclerc c’mon, let him have his delusions. he’s not hurting anyone but himself 

→ landonorris they’re not delusions! 

→ user3 what is this about???

mclaren one of our favourite pictures 

→ oscarpiastri can we get him some mandated therapy?

→ landonorris i’m not mentally unwell! 

ynln_usa just posted

liked by landonorris, logansargeant and others

ynln_usa and i thought i looked good. let’s hear a little commotion for ms. eiffel 

3,481 comments

teammate1 okay but you do look good. nothing looks better than team pride

→ ynln_usa AMERICAAAAA 🦅🇺🇸

→ user4 i love how unhinged she is

user5 what is lando doing in the likes 

→ user6 logan is also here

→ user7 yes because she’s a usa volleyball player and he’s patriotic af. lando makes no sense  

→ user8 logan follows the usa volleyball insta account

logansargeant good luck 🇺🇸 liked by ynln_usa

→ user9 this interaction has my whole heart. my two favourite (and only) american athletes 

→ user10 yn and logan meet when?

teamusa that’s our girl! 

→ georgerussell63 lando’s imaginary girl

→ oscarpiastri like he could get her, she’s tall and he’s him (this comment thread has been deleted)

landonorris good luck on your first match

→ user11 sit down vroom vroom boy, not going to happen

→ user12 ha, like lando could bag the volleyball goddess. she’s a real athlete 

→ alex_albon the people have spoken

Group chat texts Twitch Boys + 2023 babies 

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ynln_usa just posted

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and others

ynln_usa first match down. my thighs are chafed and my voice all yelled out but i am pumped! 

4,416 comments

logansargeant what a game! looking forward to the rest of the season

→ ynln_usa thanks for the support 

user1 now oscar’s joined the group of drivers following her

→ user2 and charles

→ user3 poor logan can’t gatekeep her anymore

oscarpiastri looks intense 

→ ynln_usa says the extreme driver 

georgerussell63 lads, what’re we thinking

→ alex_albon just further reinforces our point

→ charles_leclerc she looks very cool

→ user4 what are they all doing here

→ user5 why are they all being suspicious

→ user6 nothing better to do on a weekday? 

landonorris i’ve never seen the stars and stripes look so good

→ danielricciardo norizz is back again

→ landonorris don’t you start 

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oscarpiastri just posted

liked by mclaren, ynln_usa and others

oscarpiastri lando’s dragging us to the olympics to feed into his delusion

2,814 comments

landonorris i’m not lying! 

user7 anyone else notice that all of the drivers in paris at the moment have been focusing on the usa women’s volleyball team?

→ user8 alex and george both posted this match, and their pic included player 12 as well??

→ user9 put some respect on yn ln’s name

danielricciardo where was my invite?

→ carlossainz55 and mine?

→ landonorris neither of you have publicly called me a liar. this isn’t a fun little trip. this is me proving a point! 

→ danielricciardo so it’s a holiday out of spite?

→ charles_leclerc we are having a great time though

alex_albon i’m willing to go along with his delusions if it gets me more free holidays 

→ logansargeant me too

→ georgerussell63 lads, no. we were supposed to be staging on intervention. i made a powerpoint 

landonorris i hate all of you

mclaren bring us back a croissant 

→ oscarpiastri only if you can find me a sane teammate 

→ mclaren deal

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ynln_usa just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, alex_albon and others

ynln_usa luckily, i look better in silver than gold 

16,812 comments

ynln_usa on a serious note, i am blown away by the immense support i have received this olympic season. a massive thank you to the loml @/landonorris for being at the finals (and bringing along some friends) i could hear you screaming in the stands

→ user10 excuse me!! loml lando norris?? since, uh when

teamusa a silver medal and a hard launch. what a day for our champion

→ ynln_usa help, i’ve been captured by a bunch of men who drive in circles

→ teammate any of them single?

landonorris you look so cute with your medal! my olympic silver medalist, everyone 

user11 i feel like this isn’t reaching enough people because all of the comments are just congratulating her on a silver medal. where are the people freaking out about the pinned comment? 

→ user12 she won a silver freaking medal. that’s more impressive than dating someone below her league 

lilymhe i was on the edge of my seat the whole time! congratulations, girly 🥈 (alex facetimed me the whole time so i could watch the match)

→ ynln_usa you mean, lando didn’t give you a ticket? i’ll tell him off for you

→ landonorris how many times do i have to tell people? i didn’t invite them for a nice trip. i was proving a point! it was a petty trip

→ user13 one hell of a trip 

landonorris @/oscarpiastri @/charles_leclerc @/georgerussell63 @/alex_albon @/logansargeant read the caption, boys 

charles_leclerc amazing match

oscarpiastri what a game! 

logansargeant fuck yeah! USA! 

georgerussell63 i’ve never been so invested in a volleyball match before 

alex_albon well done, team usa

user14 the f1 drivers are being so polite. it’s adorable 

landonorris just posted

liked by logansargeant, maxfewtrell and others 

landonorris my baby won silver 🩶🪙

3,304 comments

user1 okay but that picture in front of the eiffel tower. slay 

→ oscarpiastri thank you. some of my best work

→ user2 oscar.png when?

→ landonorris it’s only a good pic because he had good models 

→ oscarpiastri *model. she’s barbie, you’re just ken

ynln_usa big wins for us both this year

→ landonorris you’re my biggest win

→ danielricciardo cringe  liked by ynln_usa

→ landonorris stop it. i saw that, sweetheart

carlossainz55 you used to call me baby…

→ ynln_usa do you want him back?

→ landonorris babe, wtf

→ ynln_usa i’m sorry but carlos is my fave driver and i don’t want him to be sad

→ landonorris dumped.

charles_leclerc okay we get it now. we’re sorry we doubted you

→ georgerussell63 yeah. please stop making out in front of us 

→ landonorris vengeance! 

→ ynln_usa have you not learnt that he’s petty yet? he dragged you all to paris just to prove he was dating me

alex_albon her silver medal is far cooler than your miami trophy 

→ landonorris i agree but shouldn’t you be nice to me like the others?

→ alex_albon no. i never outwardly said i didn’t believe you, just that she was out of your league 

→ ynln_usa thank you, alex. it’s amazing what men can do if they make you laugh 

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Bonus

logansargeant just posted

liked by ynln_usa, lilymhe and others

ynln_usa from toddler terror to olympic silver medalist, you’ve been a pain in my ass since we were kids, and i couldn't be prouder to watch you win big 🇺🇸🍾 tagged: ynln_usa

2,302 comments 

ynln_usa the childhood best friends to professional athletes pipeline is real

landonorris so you knew i was telling the truth the entire time! 

→ logansargeant yeah

→ landonorris why didn’t you tell the others!

→ logansargeant was funny 

oscarpiastri i’m sorry but this reveal is even better than finding out lando was telling the truth about dating yn

→ user3 wait, so all these comments were because they didn’t believe he was dating yn

→ alex_albon would you have until their recent posts?

→ user4 no tbf

charles_leclerc you sly dog! you let us bully him for no reason

→ logansargeant it’s what he gets for just trying to casually slip it into conversation and not introducing her like a gentleman should 

→ landonorris i brought usa volleyball themed cupcakes! 

georgerussell63 this is the best thing i’ve seen all year 

mclaren you’ve caused both our drivers to need a lot of therapy. we’ll send the bill your way 

→ ynln_usa it’s alright, i’ll cover it. i have to deal with them untherapised otherwise

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A/N: So, sorry, Anon. It wasn't until I'd written this up and then realised I'd completely left Max out of it. So sorry but hope you still enjoy!

As always, request open!

[comatosebunny09]

tempest | sylus q.

summary: sylus sabotages all your attempts to move on. things come to a head after you grow tired of him giving you mixed signals. genres: angst, erotica warnings: melodramatic af, alcohol, jealousy, unprotected intercourse, size difference, written with female reader in mind, dirty talk, restraints, profanity, emotional hate sex, “slut” used like once notes: a consequence of staying up past my bedtime, this late night/early morning blurb was born. thank you so much for reading, lovely! hope you like it! ❤️❤️❤️ now playing: masc - doja cat

Nothing seems amiss tonight, Sylus thinks, leant against the rail of the second-floor balcony in his club.

He studies the crowd—the sea below of writhing, sweaty bodies. The floor thumps beneath his feet from the bass of the music. Red strobe lights briefly highlight his features, revealing a pristine glass of whiskey poised at his lips. Nothing in particular seems to capture his intrigue. There are no suspicious-looking people sinking into the crowd. No dancers to protect, no fights to break up. He’s about to retreat into the quiet safety of his office, but—

Oh, what’s this?    

Something finally does pique his curiosity tonight. That very something being you, and he finds his brow ticking upward at what’s got you so tickled. You come to him in a flash of sensual grins and carnal titters, tucked away in the corner of the first-floor VIP section. Sylus bristles at the sight, blood turning to icicles in his veins.

You’re not alone, much to Sylus’ chagrin. Shacked up with another performer, and Sylus doesn’t like how close he is to you on the red leather couch. Doesn’t like how he nuzzles into the hollow of your shoulder, whispering God knows whatever obscenities into your ear. And his hands are on a languid excursion over your waistline, down the swell of your thighs...

You don’t push him away. Instead, you encourage his advances with a hand clasped around his neck, an airy sigh parting your lips. Your laugh pierces through the dense fog and thumping melody, heard only by Sylus. And the sound of it curls its fingers around something hidden in his chest, squeezing.

Sylus sets his jaw into a rigid line. Narrows his eyes. The whiskey glass suddenly explodes in a flurry of jagged, glittering shards in his palm. He ignores the lazy drip-drop of his blood pooling on the marbled floor, unable to tear his eyes away from you so effortlessly entwined with another man. What’s more off-putting is that you’re doing it of your own volition, blatantly playing in Sylus’ face. In his club, no less.

His girl. Enthralled by someone else. 

The iron-wrought rail screeches and bends under Sylus’ crushing grip. He turns away from the scene with a tempered rage, stalking into his office. None the wiser to your eyes, boring holes into the space between his shoulder blades as he retreats. 

—

You have a thing for blondes.

Platinum blondes, to be specific, the unnatural sheen reminding you of a figure stuffed in the darkest reaches of your fantasies.

He talks too much, you muse, tugging at the give of your newest conquest’s belt. Still, he’ll have to do for tonight. 

He chuckles, hot and lustful against your shoulder, open-mouthed kisses emblazoned into your skin. He promises the best of things whilst his hands smooth over the silk of your nightgown. He bunches it between your thighs as he seeks out the searing heat of your womanhood. 

You roll your eyes. You’re all too familiar with this song and dance—a convenient face in your bed to chase away the loneliness, whispering hollow words. White noise in the muddled mess of your mind, your need for instant gratification blotting out all thought and reason. Tamping down your dignity, your pride. 

You giggle despite yourself to play up the theatrics. Act all docile so you can get what you want as he moors you to the bed beneath him, branding your throat with kisses. Despite the angle, his belt finally gives, and he sighs something relieved as he slots himself between your thighs.

At least he feels good, you reason, lying back once you’ve unfastened the buckles of his jeans, and you grant him whatever claim he wants on your body. Your eyes slide shut, your mind spilling into a fitful haze. You will yourself to relax. Will away thoughts of a man clad in black and his stupid hair and equally stupid, stunning eyes boring into you. 

But it seems fate has other plans for you tonight.

He comes to you in a flourish of inky feathers and sparkling, claret orbs of energy at the foot of your bed. 

Initially, you mistake him for a trick of the light, your bedroom’s muted, amber glow distorting your vision. Desire dulling your senses. There’s no mistaking the shift of pressure in the room, however. The air crackles with static, the hairs adorning the back of your neck standing stiff.

“What the fuck?” you mutter over your counterpart’s shoulder, sitting up as best you can with the hard press of his body weighing you down. You find your blood running cold, your breath corked in your lungs.

It’s him, alright.

“What’s wrong?” asks the man between your legs, all breathy and concerned through the fog of lust. He ingests you with mussed hair and lidded eyes. Kiss-swollen lips part, and he scrutinizes you before chasing your line of sight over his shoulder. 

What greets him turns his body to stone.

“Mi-Mister Sylus?” the man cowers, scrambling off you. He stands at your bedside, bowing profusely beneath your intruder’s glare. “I-I didn’t know this was your ho—”

“Leave. Now.” The control of Sylus’ voice leaves no room for argument. Promises the worst of things if he’s not heeded, the glint of his Evol on his fingertips driving his point home.

Your former one-night stand books it, scooping up his clothes to slip past your employer out of your abode with his life intact. You sit up on your elbows with a scowl, your body awash with the heat of embarrassment when Sylus’ disapproving gaze slides over you. 

“Un-be-fucking-lievable!” you grate, clambering out of bed. Under normal circumstances, it would be comical to watch you tumble to the floor, fighting with your sheets. But now, you crave nothing more than to distance yourself from the center of your heartbreak. 

“What is? Me catching you screwing around with the help, or your state of dress?”

You give him a sharp look, ignoring how the rake of his eyes over your form makes your body hum. Fixing your negligee, you stalk out of your bedroom, Sylus hot on your heels. 

The gleam of your decanter on your counter calls to you. You snatch it up without thinking, the dark, viscous fluid inside violently sloshing about. The cork popping is jarring in the stillness of your kitchen, contending with the violent thrum of your pulse. You greedily drink straight from the bottle, caramel streams of bourbon easing down the sides of your face, your neck.

When the acrid sting reaches your nose, you slam the decanter on the counter. Just in time for Sylus to blur into frame, and he props his hands on your kitchen island as he watches you with his mouth carved into a tight line.

You pace. Massage your temples and smooth back your hair with a shaky hand, finally giving in to your frustration. “What the fuck are you doing here, huh? What the fu—what do you even want with me?”

Sylus’ shoulders drop the slightest. He exhales slowly, the red wash of his irises glinting dangerously in the light above your stove.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you sneaking around with my staff?” He quirks a brow at your scoff, the tendons in his jaw jumping. He otherwise appears composed, clicking his tongue and shaking his head with disdain. “This is very unbecoming of you, sweetie.”

“Are you kidding me,” you say with a bitter laugh. Against your better judgment, you maneuver around the island until you’re standing before him. He swaddles you in his imposing aura, peering at you with an air of indifference, a silent rage brewing beneath the surface of his skin. 

You’re breathing hard over crossed arms. Refuse to back down despite every synapse in your brain alerting you to flee. “Didn’t you once say I can have whoever I want?”

He bristles at that, squinting at your brazenness. You’ve struck a nerve. Buried the knife to the handle and twisted.

“Since when do you give a fuck who I sleep with? I never gave you shit for chasing that—” In a fit of rage, you kick one of your stools over, the clatter of it against the hardwood not once deterring Sylus’ stare. “—fucking Hunter around like a lost puppy!”

He scoffs bitterly. “So that’s what this is about?” It’s infuriating how calm he is, contrasting the tempest raging behind your ribs. “Petty revenge?”

“Oh, fuck you,” you seethe, stepping around him. 

You barely take two steps before limber fingers wind around your forearm, searing you to the bone, halting your escape. You stiffen. Surprise briefly glazes your features before you give him a haughty, sidelong glare. His own holds a warning. An alarm you don’t heed, trying vainly to shake yourself out of his grip.

“Let me go!” you snarl, struggling to no avail. You’re grossly outmatched. Can do nothing when he effortlessly pulls you stumbling in front of him, irritation coloring his features. 

He passively waits for you to finish thrashing about. For you to stop shoving the heels of your palms against the rigid pane of his chest in an effort to free yourself. You pause to catch your breath, glaring daggers between the divot of his collarbones.

“Are you quite finished, sweetheart?”

The childish look in your eye begs to differ. 

The air shifts. His expression warps into one of conflict as if he’s waging an internal battle in his mind. He huffs out a breath, fixing you with a look that sets your body aflame.

“Do you love me?”

The question catches you off guard. Floors you, and you replay it in your mind, unsure if you truly heard it. You blink dumbly at him. “Do I—huh?”

“Are you in love with me,” he repeats as if it isn’t the most earth-shattering thing. “And don’t lie to me because I can very well see through your ruse.” 

Sylus leans closer, the warm scent of his skin overhauling your senses. His right eye glows a sinister red as he threatens to tap into the power of his Aether Core. Like a door being knocked upon, you feel him poking around the edges of your mind, those sickly tendrils of power begging for entry.

You avert your gaze to the side. Even without the use of his Evol, he reads you like the deckled pages of a book. 

Of course you care for him, your feelings rooted deep like a sturdy tree. You’ve been his ace for years—his trump card. Yet, he’s treated you with nothing but kindness. Built you up to believe you meant more to him than just a tool to lure out and kill off his competition. The errant touches. The unguarded words he whispered…

Dammit.

You were foolish to think you could ever erase the thought of him with cheap carbon copies and one-night stands.

“Let go of me,” you say again, though the fight’s left your voice. 

“Answer me.” The hard edge his tone once held is traded for something softer—more beseeching. “Please.”

You reply with a sardonic chuckle, the taste of the truth pungent on your tongue. “Even if I were in love with you, it wouldn’t change anything. I’m nothing more than a pawn to you, Sylus. A pretty face. Your moneymaker. I’m damaged goods. ‘m nothing like her, and I never will be. So, would you—”

You try weakly to free yourself, your chest swelling with emotion. God, why do you feel like crying? “—would you just piss off?”

It is his turn to look wounded. You stiffen when the callused fingertips of his opposing hand graze your cheek to sweep some hair away from your face. You don’t deserve this tenderness—his pity. His hand falls listlessly at his side, and his trembling lips part, voice abrasive with the strain of whispering. “Is that what you think of me? That I don’t care about you? That I’m using you?”

The tremor of his voice makes your stomach pinch with regret. Its painful, sharp talons sink into you. Despite it all, you refuse to face him fully, instead swept up in your own head.

He laughs bitterly, disbelieving your apathy. There is no warning. No preamble when he suddenly hefts you onto the counter by your waist, the air pinched from your lungs as the brisk countertop touches your thighs. You blink at him disbelievingly, rooted to your spot.

“What the fuck? Are you putting me in timeout?”

Sylus doesn’t dignify you with a response, instead shrugging out of his overcoat and ducking out of sight into your darkened entryway. You watch the path he forged with your mouth agape, ears straining for every bit of sound. Every flicker of static. 

He returns soon after placing his coat on the rack. And you’ve nothing but the gleam of red and rigid hips bullying their way between your legs as preparation before he snatches you into a kiss that siphons the breath from your lungs.

“Sylus, what the f—” you pant between the fusion of your mouths. You push against him, scrambling for reprieve. He doesn’t let up, instead using your shock to his advantage. He slips his tongue into your mouth, leaving no part of it unscathed, greedy as he swallows the noises you make for him. His grip on the nape of your neck is almost bruising. Desperate as his lips slant possessively over yours.

Your pounding fists devolve into weak thuds against his chest. You find yourself melting into the warm pull of his mouth. Find your ire petering, something hot pooling in the pit of your stomach. He breaks away with a sticky click, his hands finding the crooks of your knees to tug you impossibly closer. You share a breath out when your chests crash together. He doesn’t grant you the luxury of an inhale, his lips sealing to your neck, blistering the column of it with sweltering, open-mouthed kisses.

You instinctively wrap your arms about his shoulders, weighted fingers sifting through soft strands of white.

“It seems you need to be reminded of your place,” he huffs, highlighting his words with a sharp nip to your flesh whilst his hands smooth up and down your sides. Curl around your ass, squeezing and kneading, eager to lay claim to whatever parts of you he can reach.

You snort incredulously, doing nothing to deter his ministrations. Breathless as you are, you still taunt him. “And what is my place, Sylus? Curled up at your feet like an obedient little dog?”

That gets his attention. 

He draws back to fix you with a simmering look that makes your limbs sparkle with anticipation. “No.” You suck in a breath, gritting your teeth against a moan, when his wide palm slips between your bodies, digits pressing into the seam of your muff. “You’re mine. Have I made myself clear? Mine.”

Arousal dampens the seat of your panties. Your scent betrays you, radiating in the space between. He hovers his mouth over yours, breathing hot and ragged while he strokes you with meticulous arcs, dredging the prettiest little sounds from your throat. “Were you really about to give this to him,” he husks, smug in the face of your keening. “My body? My cunt?”

Try as you might, words elude you, the tremor of your body belying your earlier fight.

“Fine. If you wish to act like a brat, then I will gladly treat you like one.”

He snatches you to him, your legs impulsively encircling his waist. With one hand sealed to the small of your back, he spins you ‘round to walk you towards your living room. His effortless display of strength makes the apex of your thighs throb. You’re a mess of shaking tendons when he deposits you onto the shag rug, peeling back to snatch his sweater from his shoulders. To fret with the buckles of his belt, freeing his girth pushing against the stitch of his slacks.

Saliva puddles in your cheeks. You missed the sight of him. Hard planes of muscle rippling and contracting, his gaze predatory from above. You reach out to touch him, to familiarize yourself with the tan stretch of flesh covering his abs, to chase the neat trim of hair dipping beyond the waistband of his briefs.

But he stops you. Snares your wrists in one hand, and your throat burns with ash when the smoky stems of his Evol materialize in its place. He lifts a brow in warning. Behave, his expression reads. Once perfectly coiffed hair falls into his face, adding to his wolfish appearance. 

Soundlessly, he eases down the sprawl of your body, blazing your stomach with languid kisses. His eyes never disconnect from yours as he pushes your negligee over the ripple of your ribcage, dipping his face between your thighs. You arch with anticipation. Why is it so damn hard to breathe?

Deft fingers bow beneath the waistband of your panties, tugging them down none-too-gently. He drags them over your ankles, flinging them over his shoulder, and the warm musk of your sex causes his eyes to smolder and his lips to part. Drawing your thighs further apart with one hand, the other seeks refuge at your bosom, curving around a swollen breast, thumb grazing over your pebbled nipple.

Your lips part with a sigh of his name. You don’t know if you’re begging him to leave or stay. He reads between the lines, parting your sticky labia with the upside-down V-shape of his fingers before diving in for a taste of your pretty pussy. 

You scramble for purchase of his locks. Drive your fingers between the strands, tugging, burying his face deeper into your muff. He feasts like a man starved, his appreciative groans growing in volume and tingling your stomach whilst he relentlessly sucks on your clit, alternating between licking that sticky bud of pleasure and tonguing the pucker of your pussy.

You chase that cresting wave of pleasure, your hips surging off the floor. His hands mold around the globes of your ass to keep you fastened to him. To keep you nice and open, humping pitifully against the glide of his tongue. 

Your toes strain with the effort of keeping you up, your head thrashing, and you’re pulling so roughly on his tresses, his grunts of satisfaction intermingle with those of pain. You don’t care. Not thinking straight, your mind a nebulous cloud of pleasure. Pleasure you’ve missed, pleasure that only he can give you.

With another succession of licks, you come undone in his mouth, your orgasm spilling through you like warm liquid. You sigh all hot and wanton, your hips slowly meeting the ground with your exhale. You shake like a fawn when Sylus laps up the remnants of your orgasm, and you tug at his hair with your manacled hands when the stimulation borders pain.

“Done already, sweetheart?” he goads huskily, sitting back on his haunches, eyes shrouded by alabaster bangs whilst he swipes his thumb over his cheek to chase the last vestiges of your nectar away. Such a feral sight makes you clench, a reawakened surge of need rippling through you. 

“Too bad,” he croons, coaxing and tender, the texture of his voice betraying the sinful things he’s doing with his hands. He palms himself, lip pinched between his teeth. Reaches beneath the band of his briefs to pull his cock free, and it slaps intimidatingly against his navel. “I’m just getting started.”

The head burns an angry red. Shines with a pretty, pearlescent bead of pre-spend, and you swallow, watching his fist swallow up the bulk of it whilst he strokes himself. With a devious cant to his lips, he taps the milky mess of your cunt with his cock, and you gasp, your hips twitching whilst your sex throbs in protest.

There’s no preface when he takes hold of your hip, effortlessly flipping you onto your stomach. The carpeted rug bites into your naked torso, leaving pretty, raw indentations on your skin. You peer over your shoulder, a flash of crimson alerting you to what Sylus is up to behind you.

He rucks your hips up until you’re on your knees. Positions himself between your splayed thighs, fisting his cock. You’ve nothing but the crisp kiss of an errant breeze on your sticky cunt as a warning before you feel him pressing into you, the engorged head of his cock slowly feeding into the clench of your pussy. 

His groan is strained from the force of your union. You quiver around him, and despite your overstimulation, you suck him in so greedily. So filthy, your pussy squelching as he sinks further in until his hips notch up against your ass.

His grip is vexing on your hips. For a moment, the pair of you sit like this, the searing channel of your sex readjusting to his size. It’s been far too long since you’ve felt like this. Felt so full, your stomach pinching pleasantly. 

When you clench around him, finally reacquainted with his girth, he moves. Slow and steady at first, drawing out the agony, killing you with suspense. You grit your teeth as your arousal resurfaces, your cheek buried in the carpet. His pace quickens thereafter, and he alternates between sharp snaps of his hips and shallow thrusts that leave you keening and leaking.

He gathers your makeshift restraint in his hand, tugging on the band of his Evol as he fucks you, your arms awkwardly folded behind your back. 

“This is what you wanted, right?” he huffs amid the lewd symphony of skin slapping skin, your bodies adorned in a fine sheen of sweat and slick. “For me to fuck you like old times?” He slams into you with a particularly violent thrust, punching the air from your lungs, your body painfully scrubbing against the high-pile rug. “To fuck that little attitude out of you?”

You can only pant, a hot film of tears blurring your vision. Your mouth hinges open, saliva leaking from between your distended lips. Feels so good. Hurts so good, and you can hardly speak, trained only to the sensation of him moving inside you. 

“It seems you only understand me when I’m using you like some wanton slut. Is that right, sweetheart?”

Of course you can’t respond, your voice siphoned with each pump of his hips. He clasps your ankles, drawing your legs up until your heels dig into your buttocks. And he digs a little deeper with this angle, his thrusts growing erratic as he batters against the swell of your cervix.

Finally, finally, his hips stutter. Stiffen, a groan pushed through grit teeth. You milk him, hot, furtive spurts of cum bathing your sex a milky white. So much, it seeps down the inner curves of your thighs, pooling in the carpet. Slowly, he draws out of you, releasing your ankles and freeing your wrists of the harsh pull of his Evol. You lay flat on the floor, thoroughly spent and heaving breaths, something between a laugh and sob caught in your throat.

He leaves you sprawled out like this, and you’re remiss of his warmth. He doesn’t leave you for long, coming back to you with a towel he’s procured from your linen closet to clean the aftermath of your union. There’s reverence in his ministrations, contrasting the beast he was mere moments ago. As if he fears causing you further harm, gentle as he cleans around your swollen sex, whispering words of praise and reassurance.

The remainder of your time with him slides into a confusing blur. With him helping you stand, arms snaking around your waist to keep you steady. He kisses you like you’re something fragile. Like he’ll never see you again, though you doubt this will be the last of your encounters like this.

You help each other with your clothes. And there’s an unbearable silence between you when you watch him leave through the doorframe of your front door, bidding him a fitful goodnight. 

“See you tomorrow night, sweetheart,” he promises, a smile that doesn’t quite touch his eyes, cresting over his lips. You nod quietly, and you’re surprisingly lovesick mess as you close your door behind him, battling with a new onslaught of emotions swelling in your chest.

[messylustt]

౨ৎ ‧˚

𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐧

miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 3.6k words

fic masterlist previous part pt six next part

mentions of injury; miguel be fantasising bout you guys; miguel makes you say spanish sentences that you don’t know the meaning of (i don’t think this is a warning but oh well); please also forgive if there’s any grammar/spelling mistakes (I’m tired af) — after the incident you wake up at HQ, with a note saying your hired status. with confusion you go to speak to miguel. along the way there and back you get your friends acting suspicious. miguel finally begins to accept that he wants to keep you close.

Your eyes slowly blink open, bright light invading your vision. At first you just lie there, no thoughts really occupying your brain.

As you go to sit up, having realised that you're lying on a bed, a hand suddenly rests on your shoulder. You turn to see Hobie. "Careful there, mate, wouldn't want ya knocking out again."

"What..." You drift off, brows furrowing as you rub your temples. "Knocked out...oh." Thoughts, or more so memories, begin to flood your brain. The different universe. Miles. The masked men. The running...and then...Miguel. You remember seeing Miguel, he had helped you, asking you to stay quiet.

You remember the instant feeling of relief when he had spoken, and then the droopy feeling of your exhausted body.

You go to swing your legs off the bed, as you gaze around the medical room. But Hobie keeps his hand on your shoulder. "You've gone through some stuff over the past couple days, take it easy."

"I'm alright...thank you." You nod, giving him a small smile. "Am I back at HQ?" Then you further mutter. "I thought he'd send me home."

"Yeah, me too...but maybe your act of defiance changed his mind." Hobie chuckles.

You go to shake my head. "I didn't mean t-"

"Mean to go, yeah don't worry we knew not long after you disappeared." Hobie interrupts.

You nod, but then your brows begin to furrow. "Wait, how did you know?"

"Miguel actually found out. He got pissed you left a day early. Thanks for that, by the way." Hobie nudges your shoulder gently.

You softly chuckle, though your thoughtful expression stays. "How'd he found out? I could've just gone home. I planned to just go home."

"I think he went to your universe." Hobie says, a sly grin forming.

You stare at him. "Why? To tell me I should have worked that day?"

Hobie shrugs. "Maybe."

You shift your body, so that you're somewhat facing him more. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Hm?" Hobie hums, acting innocent.

"Hobie don't have that expression if you're gonna stay silent." You wave your finger in front of his face.

Hobie stands, putting his hands in his pockets. "I don't know what you're talking about, y/n."

"Hobie."

But he's already walking out he door. "Oh." He pokes his head back in. "There's some lunch on that table there. Be grateful I didn't eat it."

;;

You stare at the note in your hand. It read 'You're not fired as of Tuesday'.

"Peter, hey. Have you seen Miguel?" You ask as Peter nears you, your hand now scrunching around the note. Another god forsaken note.

"Y/n, hey. Glad to see you look less pale." Peter smiles, but you're persistent.

"Apparently I'm not fired?"

"You got your job back, nice." Peter at first doesn't notice your blatant narrowed gaze. But when he does, his smile turns to a frown of confusion. "You don't seem happy about that."

"I'm confused. He isn’t one to mess with people…right?"

Peter tilts his head to the side. "Eh, part of me wouldn’t be surprised if he did." He mutters.

"I mean, not even a day ago he was wanting me gone. Not that much has happened to change his mind." You say.

"Actually a lot has happened."

"Yeah, but that stuff shouldn't change his decision about me working here."

Peter shrugs. "Maybe it did."

"Your elaboration there is great, Peter, thanks." Your sarcasm is clear.

Peter smiles, fixing the spider beanie on Mayday's head, as she babbles on about something. "Go talk to him. Most of the time I can't read him, so I wouldn't have a clue."

"That's why I'm trying to find him." You say, to which Peter answers with "I think I saw him heading to the top floor."

And so you make your way to the stairs to heaven (hell). You had just walked down them in an effort to find Miguel, now you were walking up them...in an effort to find Miguel. This fact only seemed make you even more annoyed with him.

Great, you got your job back, but at this point you needed to know why. You needed to know what made him change his mind that quickly. Nothing else ever has. Miguel has always been one to make final decisions, with not much there to sway him.

You think back to Miguel’s reasoning for his initial firing, as you walk up the steps. It was because of the attack. So why would he re-hire you because of another one? Or more so because of the same masked men who had attacked. Were they even the reason?

Does Miguel think you know something, and is wanting you back to tell him? No—you think to yourself. He wouldn’t re-hire you for that simple reason.

When you reach the top, your gaze gets caught up in a decision of what direction to take. None of his offices were up here. The only place you can think that Miguel would go is his room.

But you pause in front of his door. Did you really want to go in there? He’s clearly not working if is in there. God, but you had too many unanswered questions, so you knock.

It’s silent for a moment, besides your breathing and the distant chatter of spider-people. You go to knock again, but the door creaks open. It’s darker inside, the dim lighting reminding you of one of his past requests. You can remember the feel of his broad shoulders when giving him that massage. The small groans he would let slip.

You had pushed aside that memory, not liking the way it made your entire body buzz. “Miguel?”

Then he opens the door wider, staring down at you. His position was surprisingly relaxed, one arm leant against the doorframe, as he wore those monotoned clothes that brought out his red eyes.

Speaking of those red eyes, you caught them scanning your body, a little too slowly and for a little too long. You gulp, not meaning to come across so nervous.

You hold up the severely scrunched up note. Miguel shifts his gaze to it. “I see you decided to take your annoyance out on that this time.” He comments.

You narrow your eyes. “Why am I not fired?”

“I thought you’d be happy to see that note.” He says, relaxing more against the doorframe.

“No. I’m not happy to see any note.” You say, lowering your arm. “Why couldn’t you just tell me in person?”

“Because I wanted to avoid this.” He gestures to you in general.

“You can’t expect me not to be a little curious at the sudden change of heart.” You say, trying not to let your gaze drift down his body. When he had shifted his shirt rose a fraction, letting you see part of his hips and abs.

Of course he had abs. You weren’t blind to how built he was, but the small visual still seemed to make you blink too many times and your brain re-wire.

“You don’t need to be curious.” Miguel states, his tongue running along his fang as if he were bored, but the expression in his eyes begged to differ.

“But I am.” You say, tucking the note in your back pocket. “Look, it’s beneficial for you if I know the reason. Then I can work on what made you want to fire me and continue doing what made you re-hire me.”

“Don’t do what made me re-hire you.” Miguel quickly answers.

Your brows furrow. “You’re saying that like what I did was bad…Why would you hire me for something you don’t want me to do again?”

“You ask a lot of questions, you know that?”

“Don’t worry, I have a lot more in my head for you.” You smile.

Miguel shakes his head, looking away with a clench to his jaw. The tiniest of smiles edged the corner of his mouth, but with his turned away head you weren’t able to catch it. And when he glanced back it was gone.

“Can’t I do something without being questioned?” Miguel asks. “I mean, you got your job back, you should be happy…and any other sparkly emotion.”

“You should use those ‘sparkly emotions’ more often, O’Hara. You know people who can lead with positivity usually get more people on their side.” You tilt your head with a raise to your brow.

“You do realise going off track isn’t gonna make me tell you anything.” Miguel says.

Your smile falls as you press your lips together with a sigh. Miguel darts his gaze up your form again, checking your injuries. Your ankle was only partially sprained so no cast was needed, but his gaze kept on getting caught up on the small cuts that littered your body. Some faint, some more prominent, like the one on your bottom lip.

Before he knows it he’s grabbing a belt loop of your pants, pulling you slightly closer as he tilts your head how he wants. Your eyes widen at the action as your heart begins to pick a quicker pace. Two of his fingers stay under your chin—keeping your head tilted up—while his thumb hovers over your cut lip, his gaze narrowed in inspection.

“You should make sure that that doesn’t get infected.” He says in a whisper.

You scoff, though it comes out softer than intended, you having to gulp immediately after. You had been right—having him this close was going to give you a heart attack. “That’s rich coming from you.” Your voice has turned to a mere whisper also.

“You keep seeming to forget that you’re only human.” He mutters. “Weak.”

“You forgot annoying.” You mutter back. Miguel meets your gaze and you freeze. He was close. Too close. Because your mind was beginning to fog over as you stared at Miguel’s intrigued eyes.

Then suddenly he says “We’ll continue our Spanish lessons in a few hours.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary anymore.” You say, to which his eyes narrow, his hold still keeping your head tilted up.

“Really?” He sounds disbelieving. “So, you manage to say one Spanish sentence, and that’s it? you’re done?” He tilts his head his eyes darting. “I thought you were more determined than that.”

You narrow your eyes in turn. “And I learnt that sentence from my phone. So, yes, I think I’m fine.”

A small sneering smirk began to curve his lips. “I thought I took your phone.”

Your mouth opens and closes. “I…got a new one.”

“Or…you stole it back.” He counters, raising a brow.

“It’s easier this way. I don’t have to bother you with lessons.”

“But I liked getting something in return.” He answers smoothly.

“You were asking for things anyone could do.” You say.

“But I’d have to pay for someone to give me a massage.” He mocks sadness. “When you were there being oh so nice and generous.”

“I wasn’t being generous. It was apart of the deal.”

“And it still is.”

“No. You firing me, got rid of the deal altogether.” You say, moving to step away, wanting to breath in air that wasn’t getting mixed in with his.

But he pulls you back, tightening his hold on your chin a fraction, one of his fingers dragging to rest on the in-between of your jaw and neck.

“But I re-hired you, which means the deal’s back on.”

“What if I say no to the job?” You suddenly ask.

“Chaparrita, you’re not gonna say no.”

And you hated the fact that he was right. No matter what people said you did like this job, being around all these spider variants. It settled for an interesting life.

Miguel’s finger—that rested by your jaw—started to subtly caress back and forth. It had soon grown into a habit of his, when he got the chance to touch you.

There was almost something soothing about it for him. Being able to feel your soft skin against his claws, that he would usually only use for violence. A contradiction that silently said to him ‘Not everything about you is violent. Not everything has to be’.

And those words only seemed to come up in your presence. At first he had been annoyed by them and that fact. He doesn’t have time or the energy for “feelings” and such. He had to stay focused.

But over—especially—the past few days his annoyance had fizzled away, slowly but surely. Shifting to a feeling that he much preferred, one that made his body buzz with heat. And of course—only in your presence.

So, yes, maybe he did re-hire you so that the masked men wouldn’t be able to find you in your home, but maybe it was also for selfish reasons. Not liking the idea of not seeing you, even if his scowl was still present.

He liked being around you, even just listening to you talk. It all still confused him, but he finally recognised his want for you to stay. To make him feel settled, calm even.

At the end of the day, both his ‘reasons’ for re-hiring you are selfish and he knows it. He wants you close and in his line of vision, and he was going to make sure things stayed that way.

“Alright.” You say, finally agreeing to continuing this deal with Miguel. “But please don’t make me run around endlessly.”

“Have I been?” He shakes his head for you. “No. I’ve only given you easy tasks.”

You don’t why he has but you are definitely grateful. “Don’t use your phone again.” He suddenly says.

“Many people use phones for different thin—“

Miguel cuts in, sparing you an annoyed look. “For Spanish lessons.”

You finally manage to step back, holding in your sigh of relief until you were alone. Miguel watched you intently, catching onto the way your hand began to fiddle nervously with the very same belt loop he had been holding onto.

“I’ll uh…see you in a few hours then.” You say, beginning to step backwards down the hallway. “In the tech room?”

Miguel shakes his head. “It’s still being repaired. Just come back to my room.”

You ignore the flutter in your stomach, as you nod. “See you then.” Then you swiftly turn and head towards the stairs.

Miguel watches you go, his lips curving up into an easy smile.

;;

A few hours later—those hours having been filled with back and forth thoughts—you were walking past all the different spider variants, heading towards Miguel’s room.

You narrowed your feelings down to nervousness, having gone in a roundabout of thinking ‘it’s fine’ ‘I’ll be fine’ to ‘im starting to sweat’ ‘why the hell am I starting to sweat?!’

“Y/n!” A voice stopped you, and you turn to see Miles, Gwen and Hobie.

“Miles.” You smile. “So sorry for practically leaving you back there.” You did feel bad.

“Please don’t. I would have told you to run anyway. Those men were scary.” He made a face which made you chuckle. “They had like….real large claws.”

“Yeah…would much prefer never to see them again.” You half chuckle.

“How are you?” Gwen asks, taking her hood off.

You nod. “Good. Better. Yeah…a lot better.” You glance down at your ankle. “Wish I wasn’t so accident prone though.”

“Nah.” Hobie begins, swinging his arm around your shoulder. “You jus’ have a running theme of bein’ in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“That makes me feel so much better.” You scoff.

“Where are you headed anyway?” Hobie asks you.

“Oh, just to Miguel’s—“ you pause. You were gonna say ‘Miguel’s bedroom’ but then realised how strange that would sound. “To speak to Miguel.”

“I thought you already did?” Gwen asks, brushing her hair from her eyes.

“Yes…but…we have more to discuss.” You nod.

“Like what? Does he want to talk to you about his strange display of worry the other day?” Hobie asks with a sly smirk.

You glance at him, brows furrowing. “Coz that don’t really sound like him.” Hobie continues.

“You’re doing that face again.” You say, narrowing your eyes.

“Am I?” He again prays innocence.

“Yeah, you are. And it’s beyond annoying.”

“Jus’ like I thought he found you.” Hobie mutters almost smugly.

“What?”

In response Hobie just smiles at you, putting his hands in his pockets. You shift your gaze to Gwen, who is looking away.

“Why are you guys acting so suspicious?” You ask.

“We just find it…strange is all.” Gwen says.

“Find what strange?”

“Well…Miguel was the one to bring you in…which isn’t strange, but it was just the way he was acting.” Gwen begins, making your brows furrow further.

“I’m not following.” You say slowly.

“He didn’t really let any of the doctors touch you up.” Gwen continues.

“Then how….?” You’re confused. Because you had woken up with clean cuts and a fixed ankle.

“Ay, what are we all talking about, you guys?” Pav appears, swinging down from a different ceiling path.

“Jus’ about Miguel’s strange actions in medical.” Hobie says.

“Oh yeah!” Pav nods quickly. “He was acting really different. Wouldn’t let anyone near you, y/n.” He gestures to you, to which you raise your brows in disbelief. Then Pav chuckles. “It was almost like he was—“

But Gwen cuts him quickly. “He was just acting different. That’s all.” Gwen spares Pavitr a small glare.

“Okayyy.” You drag out, eyeing them all again. “Right now Miles is the only one seeming to be acting normal. Which I appreciate.” You had begun to back up down the path. Miles spares you a small smile in response.

As you begin to head to Miguel’s room, their words circled your head. What did they mean by ‘didn’t let the doctors touch you up’ or ‘didn’t let anyone near you’. They’re right—that is different from Miguel. So far different that you just can’t seem to believe it.

Maybe they were playing some prank. But even though you can see Hobie and Pav coming up with that joke, you can’t see Gwen getting in on it.

But those thoughts soon drift away as you near Miguel’s door again. You knock, feeling your palms increase in sweat.

Miguel opens the door. Upon seeing you he tilts his head, asking for you to come inside. You do, slipping past him and into the cozy, dim room.

“I hope you’ve come up with some helpful phrases.” You say turning to him. “Because I gave up my phone for this.”

Miguel pulls out a desk chair, taking a seat. You look around, seeing no other chair to occupy. “Use my bed.” He says, gesturing to his ruffled sheets.

You turn your gaze to it, holding down the small hitch of your breath. Why was it hitching? It was just a bed.

You walk over, carefully taking a seat at the edge, facing an already seated Miguel. “And yes, I am better than your phone.” He says, meeting your gaze.

“You sure?” You question. “My phone is pretty helpful.”

“And you’re saying I’m not?” Miguel asks with a small tilt his head. “That hurts.” His dry humour was something that had grown on you. Whether you liked it or not.

“Quiero ir a la feria.” It was a simple beginner question that you repeated effortlessly.

“Quiero ir a la feria.”

“It means ‘I want to go to the fair’.” Miguel explains.

After a few more simple sentences, a idea pops up in Miguel’s head. He probably shouldn’t execute it, but of course he still will.

“Me encantaría usar tu cama para otras cosas.” Miguel says, waiting for you to repeat it.

“Me encantaría usar tu cama para otras cosas.” You repeat, your flow having gotten a lot better.

Miguel’s breathing hitches upon hearing the words. You had assumed he got you to say something simple, along the lines of ‘I am a farmer who plants trees’. But he instead made you say ‘I’d love to use your bed for other things’.

And Miguel should probably stop and move on, but he doesn’t particularly want to. “¿No crees que me vería bonita atrapada entre tus sábanas, Miguel?”

“Aren’t you gonna tell me what the other sentence means?” You ask.

“Repeat it.” Miguel doesn’t budge.

You sigh. “¿No crees que me vería bonita atrapada entre tus sábanas, Miguel?” (Don’t you think I’d look pretty trapped in your sheets, Miguel?) You tilt your head, staring at him. All you know is that you asked him a question, but that’s about it.

Miguel breathes heavier, giving you a once over. “Tan bonita.” (So pretty.) He murmers.

“Do you want me to repeat that too?” You ask.

Miguel chuckles. “That’s fine.” Your words staying trapped in Miguel’s brain, seeming to repeat…over and over.

Miguel’s gaze kept flicking to your lips. Conflicting emotions resided behind this action. He could see your cut, which reminded him of the fact that you got dragged into a mess you didn’t particularly ask for, resulting in you getting injured and down right hunted.

The other emotion veered closer to his reasoning for getting you to say those sentences. He wanted to feel them. Lean closer…and see what they felt like. Maybe he wanted to soothe your cut with his tongue…

“Miguel? Are you gonna tell me what I just said?” You ask, leaning closer to get his attention.

Miguel meets your gaze. “I’ll let you try and figure it out.”

“That’s not very good teaching.” You mutter.

He just shrugs. “Then I guess you‘ll never know.”

“And don’t translate it on your phone.” Miguel says pointedly. “That would make you a bad student.”

You clench your jaw but nod. “Fine…” your gaze shifts to the window, seeing the dark sky.

You quickly stand. “I didn’t realise it was this late. I should go.” You begin to head to the door.

Miguel watches your every movement, until you glance back giving him a small nod. “Thanks for somewhat of a good lesson.”

Miguel just hums with a nod, as you turn shutting the door and leaving. Leaving Miguel to gaze back at his bed and where you were seated.

He had already begun to decide on what he wants in return.

ok, this post isn’t letting me add the colours and now I’m sad

this part was a little less action, coz i wanted focus more on miguel’s fEeLiNgS. coz boy does he have them

taglist: @dangerousdreamkitty @ale-maral @inosukesweirdwife @flooftoof @cynicallyaestetic @silassinclair @mariiyoushi @ilovedilfjake @toastlover21 @wlellsl @k1rbbo @bitchotine @guacam011y @blnk338 @wolfiepirate @kurxxmi @corpsebridenightamare @ohantonia @yunonaneko @irenered-20 @z3r0art @sunflowercandie @perilous-pasta @gloriouskryptonitecrown @whyamistillhere78 @ritzzzsblog @mm1sta @tealcoloured-murder @aweebsimp101 @livelaughlaurv @s0dium @roguepancake @sunshiines-stuff @internal-soundtrack @oscarisdaddy69 @clairacassidy @captainquake42 @nanaloverz @ilyless @sindulgent666 @shine101 @thebadasssass @hibeejibees @nirishin @ily2lia @lillunna @cinnamoncattie @futuristicpandakid @maroonobserver @thatsopanu @edgyficuselastica @kittekat420 @stararctic @maxi-ride @renn-pumkin-head @scaraza @justanotherkpopstanlol @fauxizs @cloudsandrenoswife @ilmovor @larissa-lolll @elliemm @httpkiyoomi @j2warren @arquiiva @ilovemiguelohara @a-monster-can-filled-with-cum @fandom-gal44 @elwyn7 @albiebright

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[cryptidghostgirl]

so sorry for this (very) specific request hope it's not ocish

anyways alastor x wife reader who's a virologist / kinda a mad scientist??(girl just wants to start a apocalypse without anyone to bother her)

Like they got married for mutual benefits (whatever benefits he would gain and her having access to money for her wildest dreams) when they were humans (whether he actually loves her or not is up to you lmao)

They both die (I assume that she would die around when he died from her own negligence caused by her 'freedom' to do her work more often without actually worrying about him finding out) and she avoids him like the plague (not that hard to realize this so called radio demon is your 'husband' when you find his secret stash of 'local cuisine' in the fridge)

Then he goes missing and she finally kinda goes out of makeshift hiding, just chilling doing her evil deeds before finding about the Hazbin Hotel from some gossip

Deciding that, while redemption is most likely not gonna happen mostly for the fact she does not care, she joins Charlie's little program. For her own little project (just wants to have a angel test subject, gotta see if they can be a good carrier for her little virus)

The reader doesn't know that Alastor's back (you think she's gonna use vox tech? Or listen to the radio? Girl uses a non vox tech phone and maybe a computer and does her work) so she goes and knocks on the door to the hotel

Thinking that this shit is gonna be easy, after all her husband is gone so she won't be bothered by him. She can focus on her beautiful creations and maybe destory hell and heaven with a apocalypse for some laughs. While also getting access to heaven through Charlie somehow (maybe even Lucifer, girl doesn't know nor care)

Anyways you can just IMAGINE her surprise that right after Charlie greets her (Vaggie ofc suspicious af cause she knows damn well no sinner wants to be redeemed for the most part) then here comes the strawberry pimp coming to say hello

Would he recognize his lovely wife? Maybe

Ofc reader had a plan, and by plan I mean she just says they were married and now acts like their divorced (death do us part and we fuckin dead)

(Just for example, do what you want <3)

Anyways I'm sorry again (can you tell that I've been watching a lot of mlp infection aus :') )

A/N bestie,, i love an overly detailed request. no apologies. i hope i did it justice <3 <3 I have literally been obsessing over the whole 'we're dead. we've been parted.' reader idea. It's so fun. Also I am very sorry it took me so long to get to this. Also, I am not a woman nor am I in STEM (I'm an enby in history) so apologies if science stuff in this is bad. I'm basing the character off of Entrapta (my love) from Nate Stevenson's She-Ra remake.

Till Death Do Us Part (Alastor x Mad Scientist!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Gore. Murder. Bodies. Animal cruelty (not detailed at all just like test subjects and burning ants as a kid). Viruses/plague talk. Just capital d Death all around in this one folks. Suicide and starvation briefly mentioned.

Word Count: 2,584

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Y/n hadn't been sad when Alastor died. It didn't really even register on her radar that he was gone until the police showed up at her door. Their marriage was more of an agreement than anything else, a division of labor. Y/n was a talented virologist who came from a rather wealthy family. He got access to her money, using it to start his own radio studio, and Y/n? Well Y/n got a clean up crew.

She had always been fascinated by death. It was a morbid curiosity that had followed her since childhood. The typical 'burning ants with a magnifying glass to mass murderer' pipeline only, murder was not exactly her objective. Since learning of the Black Death in school, she had been fascinated by biological warfare and weaponry. The stories of soldiers throwing infected bodies over the walls of city's to break down their defenses? It was magnificent, masterful, absolutely awe inspiring. Living through the Spanish Flu epidemic in 1918, watching how it tore through her city of New Orleans, only furthered her determination.

As soon as she had had the knowledge base to do so, she began working on bio-weapons on her own. She wanted to create a disease, to devastate the world. She wanted to watch the things around her crumble into ruin and know it was by her hand.

She'd found out about Alastor's hobby by accident. They were friends, of a sort, in that Y/n would show up randomly where ever he was and quiz him about radio waves. He worked at a radio station and she knew that. She had followed him, tracked him down. There was no reasoning behind it save he was the first person she'd really found out about that was involved in the business in New Orleans. She would pick his mind about getting the word out about things, marketing, advertising. She was prepping for the main event, for the day she finally created her magnum opus.

One day, when she had shown up unannounced at his door and broken in when he didn't respond to her knocking, Y/n had discovered him dismembering one of his victims. Alastor had stared at her, wide eyed in shock, fear and adrenaline mixing into an intoxicating combination in his veins. Y/n had just smiled.

She had been wondering about human experimentation for a while now. Animals were easy to cover up, easy to bury in the back yard but people? It had always been too risky, up until now anyways.

So it went like this: Y/n funded Alastor's dreams and he hid the side effects of hers. When he died, Y/n didn't really feel anything too strongly about it at all. Yes, it made life harder in that if she wanted to keep using human guinea pigs she'd have to figure out a way to dispose of them on her own but it also made it easier. Alastor had always been so obsessed with image, dragging her to office parties and forcing her to sit down to meals with him. Now that he was gone, she could work on her projects in peace once again. The body thing was something she would figure out along the way. She was smart and she wasn't going to let something like that stop her, not when she was this close to cracking it.

As it turns out, Alastor had been more of a help than Y/n believed. So used to his nattering and persistence, she had stopped eating. It wasn't long before she joined her husband in death. The papers of course had a field day with it. Heiress and Virologist Y/n L/n Withers Away Due to Heartbreak. Y/n L/n Starved Herself to Death and Joins her Murderer of a Husband. Virologist Commits Suicide After Revelation of Dead Husband's Criminal Deeds.

When Y/n had woken up in Hell, her whole world had been turned upside down. If there was life after death, what was the point of killing everyone on earth? She was back at square one.

Rumors were already buzzing through the streets of Hell about some new overlord, some Radio Demon, who had a strikingly similar MO to her husband. Not wanting any distractions this time around, Y/n secluded herself in the outskirts of the pride ring to reformulate her plans.

For decades she worked, trying to create a poison to wipe out the dual planes of the underworld. Work was easier here. No one questioned why she bought the things she bought, no one got upset when people went missing. Hell, no one even blinked twice if they saw her burying a body. It was a veritable paradise for Y/n.

Eventually, news reached her of the Radio Demon's disappearance. Y/n had never been the biggest fan of technology that wasn't involved in her work. In the world of the living, she had barley read the papers. All the machines in her laboratory were ones she had built herself through trial and error. But still, somehow, the news reached her and she felt elated. The last thing weighing her down, the last road block had officially been lifted.

Within seven years, she had perfected the disease. Having run tests on lower rings of Hell, she prided herself on her ability to make it so infections, so deadly. The survival was on par with that of unvaccinated human's infected by rabies. But her plan wasn't complete, no. Taking out everyone in Hell wasn't good enough, she had to figure out how to get it into Heaven as well.

That was when the perfect opportunity fell in her lap. Y/n nearly cried when she caught sight of the interview through the window of a shop selling Vox branded TVs. Charlie Morningstar, Lucifer's little brat, was creating a hotel for sinners, where they could be rehabilitated and sent to Heaven. It was perfect, almost too perfect. Y/n didn't question it, her own excitement blinding her. She barley even took the time to come up with a plan that consisted of more than get into the hotel and get her hands on an angel. She figured that was something that could be dealt with later on.

After a few days of research and snooping, she finally made her move. Having packed her bags and woven her way through the streets of Pentagram City, she found herself before the brightly lit marquee of the Hazbin Hotel. Placing her bag on the ground beside her, the test tubes and various paraphernalia inside clinked gently against one another. Raising her hand, she knocked on the door.

It was Charlie herself who answered, with wide eyes and an earnest smile. A smaller moth demon beside her crossed her arms, eyeing Y/n with doubt. It barley registered with the excitable demon, she was used to the strange looks. The new form Hell had granted her with when she died was odd, after all. She was still the same height, still held a roughly human shape, but her hair had become its own beast. It moved like secondary limbs, falling nearly to the floor from the pigtails she had tied it up into. It shot up into the air around her in joy at the sight of yet another open door in her path, this one literal rather than figurative.

"Hello!" Charlie exclaimed, "Are you here to check in?"

"Yes, check in." Y/n nodded, using her hair to pick her bag back up.

She took a step forward, trying to enter the hotel, but found her path blocked by the smaller grey demon. Her arms were uncrossed now, one of them pointing a spear right at Y/n's neck. Y/n didn't flinch, she simply looked down at it in curiosity, reaching a finger up to touch the end.

"Ow." she said flatly as the spear's tip pressed into the pad of her finger.

Raising it to her eyes, she rubbed the droplet of blood that had pooled on her pointer finger with her thumb before turning back to the spear.

"Is this..." Y/n leaned forward, grabbing the spear's shaft.

"Hey!" Vaggie yelled threateningly as Y/n crouched down, examining the weapon carefully.

"Oh my stars, this is an angelic blade, isn't it?" she exclaimed, her eyes still fixed on the spear.

"Uh..."

Vaggie was more confused now than anything and she took the slightest step away from the excited demon. Y/n followed her and soon, they were in the entry way to the hotel. Charlie watched the scene play out with mild amusement, finding her girlfriends bewildered state rather charming. She let the door fall shut.

"It is, isn't it?" Y/n asked again, "But how did you get it? Did you make it? What do you do with it? Is it more effective than normal weapons? Why a spear? I-"

"What's this, we have a new guest?" a crackling voice cut Y/n off.

"Uh, yes!" Charlie stepped in, turning to face the newcomer.

Y/n, still preoccupied with the spear, was now engaged in trying to get Vaggie to let her hold it.

"I think..." Charlie doubtfully added, her brow furrowing at the site.

"Well well well, a little devil." Alastor hummed, turning to watch the show as well, "Honestly, reminds me of someone I knew back when I was alive and kicking. Ah well, what's her name?"

"I don't... actually know that yet." Charlie admitted, fiddling with her hands a bit as she spoke, "But she seems really enthusiastic about being here!"

"It seems she more interested in that spear of Vaggie's than the idea of redemption." Alastor noted in response.

"Are either of you going to help me or are you just gonna sit and watch?" Vaggie exclaimed, trying her best to pry the spear out of Y/n's grip.

Alastor sighed and with a twirl of his microphone, a shadow arose, pulling Y/n off Vaggie. There was a split second where the smile on the girl's face fell. It quickly returned as she caught sight of what exactly had interrupted her escapades. Placing her bag on the floor with her hair, she wormed around in the shadow's arms, turning to face it. Tentatively, she poked it.

"Would you stop that?" Alastor asked, his voice thick with irritation.

Y/n poked the shadow again.

"What is this? How are you doing this?"

When no response came from the demon in question, she at last turned to face him.

"Oh."

She stilled in her movements and Alastor allowed the shadow to disappear.

"No reason to be scared." Charlie quickly stepped in, "I know Alastor here has a bit of a... reputation, but he is actually helping us at the hotel. He's really a great once you get to know him."

Alastor's smile widened as he bowed his head slightly in recognition of the praise.

"If you're going to be staying her-"

"You can't seriously be thinking of letting her stay here, Charlie." Vaggie cut in, "She's been here what, five minutes? And all thats come of it is chaos."

"Vaggie, come on, don't be like that." Charlie turned to her girlfriend, "Everyone deserves a second chance, that's the whole reason we built this place."

"But does she even want to be redeemed? I mean, what if she's... I don't know, trying to take us down from the inside out? What if she's a journalist or some shit trying to write us bad reviews?"

"You flatter me." Y/n smiled and Vaggie scoffed.

"See?"

"Isn't that all the more reason to let her in? Vaggie, if she is undercover as a journalist or something, we just have to prove to her how amazing what we're doing here is."

"I don't know... I've never seen her before, what if she's another one Vox sent?"

Y/n shook her head, sticking her tongue out slightly in disgust at this notion and Alastor chuckled. There really was something so familiar about this demon and her antics. Even if she was a tad irritating, it was a comfortable familiarity.

"Then we will figure it out, same way we did with Sir. Pentious. Okay?"

"Fine." Vaggie relented at last with a sigh.

Smiling brightly, Charlie turned back to Y/n.

"So, hi. I'm Charlie, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! What's your name?"

Y/n's eyes flicked back and forth between Alastor and Charlie for a moment before settling on Charlie.

"Y/n L/n."

Alastor let out a little laugh of disbelief, a sound he had meant to keep in. He couldn't help it. Of course this little mess of a demon was his favorite crazy wife. Alastor had looked for Y/n on occasion, always keeping an eye on news involving anything scientific but, he had never found a trace. Not that he'd admit it but, in their time together, he had grown rather fond of the girl. Not love, never love, but a sort of familial feel. Everyone turned to face him.

"Are you alright, Alastor?" Charlie asked, walking over to him and placing a hand on his arm which he quickly brushed off.

"Yeah, do you know her or something?" Vaggie added, "Is she dangerous?"

"No..." he paused, his brow slightly furrowed, "She's my wife."

The room fell silent.

"You... you didn't recognize your own wife?" Vaggie asked in disbeleif.

"Ex-wife." Y/n corrected with a little sigh.

This was all becoming so tedious. She hadn't come here to sit and talk with people. While the spear and the shadow had been fun, they had both run their courses and she just wanted to get to work.

"I..." Alastor turned back to Y/n, "Ex-wife?"

Y/n shrugged.

"So you didn't recognize your wife and you didn't know you were divorced?" Vaggie asked, rubbing her temples, "Jesus fuck, man."

"I..." Alastor cleared his throat, "We were married when we were alive. I didn't even know she was dead yet."

"Yeah." Y/n shrugged, "Turns out all your nattering was what was keeping me alive. I forgot to eat, starved to death."

Alastor's eyes softened slightly for a moment at the notion. She had needed his care so badly that she had died with out it. It felt good, in a strange way. Satisfying. They darkened again as he recalled her earlier statement.

"Ex-wife?" he asked again, taking a step towards Y/n.

She looked up at him, her expression blank.

"Yeah?"

"When did we get a divorce!" Alastor exclaimed once he realized she would say nothing else on the matter without his prompting.

"Oh! We didn't." Y/n nodded, smiling slightly, "Now, can I go to my room?"

"No, Y/n. Why are you calling yourself my ex-wife? We are still married."

Y/n looked around at Charlie and Vaggie, seeing if they were going to back up her claim. Sighing, she turned back to Alastor.

"Do I really have to lay it out for you?" she paused and Alastor just stared at her, eyebrows raised, "Jesus. Uh, Al, we died."

"Yes...?"

"Till death do us part? That was the agreement."

"I... Well..." he was at a complete and total loss for how to respond.

She wasn't wrong, he just didn't like her answer very much.

"So... the agreement is done... yeah?"

"I mean," Alastor shook his head slightly, "I guess?"

"Great! Can someone please show me to my room now."

---

Next Part -> Till Death Do Us Part pt. 2

[rainbowangel110]

STOP THIS IS KILLING ME

"Friede's using himself as a decoy to keep us safe."

I rambled about this in the tags of a reblog, but hell, I'm going to go ahead and make a separate meta post about it as well, because it's something that I think could have a delicious narrative impact on a future Horizons arc if the writers choose to utilize it. (And even if they don't, it could make for some delicious fic.)

So, one thing I noticed on my catch up binge of Horizons is that Liko and Roy (and to a lesser extent Dot) see Friede not only as the leader of the Rising Volt Tacklers, but also as a hero -- as their hero. This especially jumped out at me in episode 25, when Friede had them take shelter in the tower of the ancient castle while he battled Amethio. Not only did they readily listen to him when he told them to stay put inside the tower while he alone went to the exposed top, but then we were treated to this:

This whole sequence is notable for several reasons:

Friede jumps off the tower to draw Amethio away from the higher floor of the tower where Liko and Roy are sheltering, so that Amethio has a lower chance of going after them.

As he passes by their window, Friede gives them a wink and a smile, to comfort and encourage them.

The animators made sure to show us not only how Friede looked from Liko and Roy's perspective (heroic), but also how awed they were by giving us a full shot of their own facial expressions.

Just in case it wasn't obvious enough, Roy and Liko spell it out themselves that Friede is using himself as bait for Amethio in order to protect them, not only telling the audience what he's doing in case the audience didn't pick up on it (which, young children do watch this show), but also showing how this knowledge affects them, because Roy's voice is shaking a little when he says his line, and Liko's is hushed.

This was a very scary night for these two kids. They were outnumbered, their enemies were much stronger than they were, they were being pursued and in hiding. But Friede put himself between them and the greatest, nearest threat, and did his best to comfort them as he did so. To give them a wink and a smile as if to say, "Don't worry, it'll be okay."

And this isn't the only time.

We would be here all day if I grabbed screenshots of every time Friede rushed in to either save the kids from danger (either directly himself or by sending Cap in his place), or check on their well being after the fact to make sure that they were unharmed. Often, he does both in the course of the same episode, sometimes multiple times. Hell, his establishing character moment in the very beginning of the series is a heroic rescue whereupon he enters the scene to protect Liko from Amethio on the rooftop of her school. Friede makes it a point to prioritize the kids' safety and well-being, and as a result, they've reached the natural conclusion: they view him as a hero. As their hero.

So then, the question must be asked: what happens if their hero is taken out of the picture?

The question needs to be asked for a few reasons, and not just because I have a love for angst. The first reason is because we've already been given a teaser of what would happen at the end of the Terapagos Shine arc. In episode 44, Friede was trapped in a tower of Spinel's design. Though neither Liko nor Roy knew that the tower was a trap by Spinel, they did know that Friede was trapped inside -- and both immediately panicked upon seeing that Friede was trapped in a tower beyond their reach in enemy territory.

Roy immediately tried opening the door and, when repeated attempts to yank it open wouldn't work, banged it on it with his fists while yelling Friede's name. Liko, meanwhile, stared in abject terror. And even after Friede reassures them, Roy still frantically demands more answers while Liko just as frantically wants to know if Friede is okay, and a little bit after that has to take a deep breath to try to get herself to calm down. Keep in mind that just an episode prior to this, when faced with a sudden attack by the Explorers, Liko's first instinct was to call Friede for help, while Roy said that he would battle because there was no time to call Friede (not because calling for backup wasn't necessary). Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying the kids aren't brave. Of course they are! They both insisted on going on this mission in the first place! And they're there because, as concerned as Friede is for their safety, he is also Professor Pushover when it comes to them and caved immediately to their puppy eyes. But they also feel much safer on that mission because Friede is there with him. Feeling that he is in danger, cut off from them like that -- the stakes suddenly became that much more real.

And on the other side of the door, Friede knew it as well. And how did he react?

He's not happy. He knows this is a bad situation. But --

He does what he always does: he doesn't let on at all that this is a bad situation, so as not to worry and scare the kids. He also tells them to leave the area, because Spinel is there and Spinel is dangerous, and he wants to get them away from that danger. To date, Spinel is the most dangerous Explorer that they've encountered. Remember, Spinel is the one who successfully stole Terapagos' pendant, and the one who wiped Liko's memory and had her missing in Levincia for awhile. It's understandable why Friede would prioritize getting the kids as far away from him as possible.

So, to recap:

In a situation where, as far as the kids knew, Friede was just temporarily locked in a room away from them (in enemy territory but not with an enemy) and could still talk to them, it freaked them out enough to make them panic, and it took Landau telling them that they had to believe Friede could get himself out of the room and that they had to move forward for Liko to deep breath her way out of her mounting panic attack so she and Roy could move on. In a situation where Friede was actually captured, then, we could probably expect their reactions -- at least, their initial reactions -- to be much worse.

And I consider this possibility for two specific reasons: one genre, and one narrative.

First, genre. Pokémon has always been a coming-of-age story of sorts, but I feel that the Horizons anime feels especially so, focusing very strongly on Liko, Roy, and Dot as they grow up and discover both who they are, and who they want to be when they're older. (This has been especially emphasized with Liko and Dot, I feel; with Roy, he hasn't really thought about the future beyond battling Rayquaza.) The thing about coming-of-age stories set in fantasy settings, though -- rather, the thing about coming-of-age stories set in fantasy settings wherein the young protagonist has a stronger mentor that they can lean on to bail them out of jams is that, if they can consistently rely on the mentor to bail them out of jams and danger, then it doesn't give them the opportunity to overcome that danger themselves. Therefore, very often those stories will kill off the mentor character to force the younger protagonist character to go off on their own to face the primary villains in the end. Hence the deaths of characters like Obi-Wan Kenobi in Star Wars, Gandalf in Lord of the Rings, and so on.

Now, given that this is a Pokémon anime, obviously they're not going to have Spinel murder Friede. I mean, true, they let Zygarde kill Lysandre on Bonnie's order at the end of the XYZ anime, but Lysandre was the big bad and we didn't see his corpse, it was just heavily implied that he didn't survive what Zygarde did to him. Same with Hunter J and her crew in the DP anime. Did she live? Probably not, but we never saw the bodies, so hey, plausible deniability, and they were villains anyway, so. But Friede is a main character, and a hero, so we can be 99.9% sure that they're not going to have Spinel or anyone else murder him in order to force the kids to get by without him for awhile.

However, Friede doesn't have to die for him to be taken out of the action. He just needs to be put into a position where it is physically impossible for him to get to them to save them when they're in danger (and for them to know that he can't get to them when they're in danger). But I'm getting ahead of myself. The point I'm making here is that, for genre reasons, the writers have a reason to want to remove Friede from the field of play in order to force Liko, Roy, and Dot to stand on their own against the Explorers. Because while they would still have the rest of the adult crew of the Rising Volt Tacklers, the rest of the adult crew aren't really battlers. The only one among them who has a fully evolved pokémon is Orio with Metagross, and we've only seen her attempt to battle once. It doesn't mean she can't, of course, but it does imply that perhaps she's not an active battler. Certainly, she's not the one rushing in to save the kids all the time like Friede is. The rest of the RVT crew is important as well, but Friede is the one who would cause the real narrative impact here, as well as the psychological impact on the kids.

(And to briefly address Dot, since I've barely talked about her: Dot hasn't received as much focus in this discussion since she rarely leaves the ship, and thus hasn't been in as much danger as Liko and Roy. However, Friede has had as much of an impact on her life and I believe she sees him as a personal hero just as much. He is, after all, the one who gave her the new life that has impacted her so greatly. He's the one whose thesis first caught her attention. He showed an interest in her interests. He called her abilities special. He invited her to join the Brave Asagi. He brought her aboard no questions asked, made her feel welcomed, has never shamed her for being a shut-in, so on and so forth. Friede treats Dot with as much respect as he does the rest of the crew and his offer to let her become a crew member changed her life for the better. So while he hasn't had to rescue her as much as the other two, I think she does see him as a hero just as Liko and Roy do, and would be just as affected if something happened to him as they would be.)

The other reason why I think the question needs to be asked is a narrative one. I think, from a narrative perspective, it would simply make sense for the Explorers to want to do something about Friede at some point, particularly if they wish to take Terapagos from Liko (or get the kids out of the way of their plans for Rayquaza / Terapagos / Rakua). Again, whenever the kids are in danger, Friede swoops in and saves them. This is something that Spinel, at least, has noticed; he built the trap on the island specifically to imprison Friede. Why would he do that, if Friede was not at the very least a nuisance, at the very most a threat? And at the end of it all, we got this:

Which then brings me back to what I mentioned earlier: since the anime clearly can't (and won't) murder Friede, because that would be going way too far for a Pokémon anime, if the writers do choose to temporarily remove him from the field of play in order to give the kids room to stand on their own two feet without Professor Safety Net, then I could see this playing out one of two ways.

The first (and most delicious) way is obvious: have him be captured by the Explorers. I feel that this is already set up by Spinel's little smirk and comment above. Spinel has already designed one trap meant to imprison Friede; there is nothing stopping him from designing more. Of course, it would require nerfing Friede (and Cap) a bit, in order to leave them captured for a good while; but it would also give the kids a mission, that mission being rescuing Friede and Cap in a reversal of all the rescues Friede and Cap have provided for them thus far, while simultaneously taking the fight to the Explorers, versus the Explorers always coming after them. Of course, this does carry the risk of still seeming too dark for the writers to want to consider, since Friede would be a prisoner during all this, but if nothing else, I can always write fic.

The second possibility that is less obvious and more bonkers, but less dark and so somehow more plausible in my mind, is that Friede could somehow end up trapped in Rakua with Lucius. And before you're like "what," consider this:

Friede has a plan that involves the three Heroes they've obtained so far. If I had to guess, Friede is going to continue pursuing the remaining Six Heroes while the kids are on their Terastal course. And that's fine / good; he's continuing the mission so they don't lose time, although how he's going to do that without Terapagos is a mystery. (Although I'm sure Liko would let him borrow Terry if he just asked.) But the point is, he's got this mysterious plan involving the three Heroes they currently have. Rakua is some mysterious place that isn't on any maps and so could very well be another dimension or something similar, because those are 100% canonically real in the Pokémon world (e.g. the Distortion World). It would behoove the writers to have Friede off the field of play for awhile, to the extent that it is physically impossible for him to help the kids. And the kids also intend to reach Rakua because that's what Terapagos wants. So if Friede somehow got trapped in Rakua, then they would be killing two birds with one stone: Friede can no longer help the kids when they're in danger from the Explorers, and the kids can rescue Friede when they take Terapagos to Rakua to see Lucius' spirit (or just Lucius himself if Lucius has been alive in Rakua all this time because it's like a fountain of youth or limbo or something). Bonus points if the kids don't even know that's where Friede is, if they just know that something happened to him but don't know what, but they keep working toward Rakua anyway because the other adults on the crew convince them that Friede would want them to. (But Friede can maybe still somehow get messages to them through Terapagos visions or something, I don't know.)

I could honestly see this being the way they go with it, simply because it's less dramatic than "the enemy has taken your mentor hostage and taunt you about how powerless you are to do anything about it and also they're going to hunt you down to steal your little turtle, too." Plus they're setting Friede up to do something with the three Heroes, and it can't be for nothing. But then again, neither can Spinel's interest . . .

Either way, the fact that the kids so clearly see Friede as their hero, and the way it would impact them to have something happen to him as a result, has lived in my head ever since episode 25. Particularly since it would have a narrative impact as well, given how often he is their safety net, and what it would mean if he couldn't be any longer. Not because he chose not to, because he would never choose that; but because he couldn't, because external forces took that choice away.

Well. Even if the anime itself doesn't deliver, that won't stop me. :)

[actually-azi]

✨ Rating Hazbin Hotel ships ✨

Adam / Lucifer - 3/10, It's definitely a funny concept that Lucifer fucked both his wives and then him, but in reality it's a no from me.

Adam / Lute - 7/10, Their relationship would've been unhealthy af but not gonna lie it's pretty cute. I just love Lute so goddamn much lol.

Alastor / Lucifer - 7/10, I like the concept because it's genuinely funny and kinda cute but only as a crack ship. I definitely don't see it actually happening.

Alastor / Literally anyone else - 0/10, I genuinely don't think Alastor would ever even consider a relationship. He just thinks he's above everyone else.

Angel / Cherri - 0/10, What the fuck y'all, he's gay. This one is weird af and idk why it's even a thing.

Angel / Husk - 10/10, I love that Husk cares about Angel for more than sex, they're so cute together especially if they take things slowly.

Charlie / Emily - 2/10, They're so similar that together I feel like it would be too much. Also I really dislike the idea of splitting up Chaggie.

Charlie / Emily / Vaggie - 6/10, I probably wouldn't mind all three of them together. It would be cute to call it Charlie's Angels lol.

Charlie / Vaggie - 10/10, I love them together, they're so supportive and adorable. The way Vaggie looks at Charlie with so much love warms my heart.

Cherri / Sir Pentious - 7/10, I don't like Cherri all that much but I'm so happy that Pen got the girl in the end, he deserves to be loved.

Lilith / Lucifer - 5/10, Mostly it's low because I'm suspicious of Lilith. If she ends up not terrible then I could see it being higher but idk, it's sus for now.

Lute / Vaggie - 7/10, I enjoy the idea of them being exes or something like that. Or Lute being jealous of what Vaggie has with Charlie.

Niffty / Valentino - 10/10, Great crack ship. The fanart is hilarious and Nif's love of bad boys makes it a great concept. But I do pretty much only like it as a joke.

One sided Vox / Alastor - 15/10, This is 100% canon in my head. Vox is SO down bad for Alastor and took it SO personally that Alastor couldn't give less of a fuck like the aroace king he is. I love this SO much.

Valentino / Vox - 500/10, This is my Hazbin OTP honestly. These two losers are terrible people but I love them together more than I can even put into words. They just fit so well together and act like an old married couple.

Valentino / Velvette / Vox - 2/10, Velvette sees Vox and Val as her dumb gay dads and I'll die on that hill. They're more like a family and she's the glue that keeps the other two from imploding when they get pissy.

Velvette / Vox - 2/10, Not feeling it. Honestly I think Velvette is aroace and/or a lesbian. I just don't see anything romantic involving her and either of the other Vees.

[luludeluluramblings]

What do you think of a Reader as a teenage anti-hero. They have a pretty upbeat personality, don't ask why. They like to tease others and especially they like to stimulate competition for the love of Bruce from Batkids

Bruce: I don't think my kids love me.

Reader: *Shows Bruce the Batkids arguing about who is Bruce's best kid*

I have thought about Anti-hero Reader on the regular. (I keep getting distracted by it, too.)

Slight, very slight, NSFW themes below

I tend to make an OC and then change their background for different scenarios. I have thoughts of an Anti-Hero!Smalltown!Reader that causes chaos cause therapy in Gotham is shady AF, but this version of Reader wouldn’t be related to the Bats at all. (I kinda wish I had written and posted that version, but I wanted to do a neglect story. Maybe after the neglect story I’ll do it. I would still keep the weather powers, though. I came up with a fun vigilante name for them already.)

Both versions of Reader, however, are petty and teasing.

So here’s a short list of petty things Reader would do to be passive aggressive.

Calls everyone, except Bruce, daddy. (Damian is exempt because he’s still technically Reader’s brother.)

Claims Green Lantern (Hal Jordan) is their favorite Justice League member. Would also call him Daddy. Yes, in that way.

Would claim Jon as their new brother, he is also exempt from the daddy name due to being so precious. (Of course, he will be salty about it.)

Buys suspicious things to throw in the trash. Reader knows they’re the world biggest snoops, might as well make things awkward for everybody when they do.

Will ask questions and say things they know will start arguments, even if it means playing stupid. “Is water wet?” “The earth is flat.” This also includes triggering competitions between everyone.

Will absolutely roast the ever loving shit out of each respective member’s alter ego right to their face.

Refers to Batman as Stellaluna.

Reader is the epitome of Bruce’s Brucie Wayne persona. They play bimbo/himbo/jimbo act just for the troll factor. And, the family will fall for it at times.

I might add more to this later. I was very excited about this ask. Unfortunately, I had to rest because it was grocery day and it’s hotter than the devil’s left testicle where I live. Sucks me dry of all my energy. (I have part Six pretty much done, too. It’s coming. I’m just dragging my feet.)

[ofcrowsanddragons]

The entire dynamic between Illario and Lucanis is uncomfortable, and it's supposed to be. They criticize each other constantly.

The default mode for the player dealing with Illario is:

This dude is suspicious AF

This dude is trying to convince me to take his side over my party member's* [see footnote]

i.e., Illario has already been cast in the role of an antagonist, even if you believe that he's just flighty and maybe a bit sycophantic.

It's really easy at that point to listen to Lucanis vent a bit about their childhoods and not realize that the two of them share a pattern of constant criticism against the other. You're on your friend's side here, after all.

I actually found it a little upsetting how much Lucanis criticized Illario in "The Wigmaker Job" about being vain. When they needed Illario's skillset of acting as a guest at a Venatori party and seducing someone, Lucanis immediately asked Illario to do it—because Illario almost can't fail at that. Illario prodded Lucanis for that, but I got the impression that they fell right back into that dynamic afterwards.

Consider how Teia is the one that considers Illario a good assassin, and makes sure to tell people that. Consider how much Teia had to push to become a Talon, since she was also known for seduction and she clawed her way up from nothing. Imagine how it feels to actually be Teia and hear people make fun of Illario for his methods, then. Or making fun of the amount of time it takes to look like you fit in somewhere specific and look appealing to a target.

Also, if Illario wasn't a good assassin, he wouldn't be a boss battle.

/*Illario actually tells Rook during the final fight that they chose to back the wrong Dellamorte. I like this detail. (This is in background banter when you get hit.)

[loycos]

can you elaborate on the gfms being scams? everyone else ive seen having even the slightest amount of doubt about them has been immediately accused of personally murdering people but it all just feels so suspicious to me.

Lets start with this: anyone asking for money online you should be skeptical of. Think of how easy it wouldve been for you to pull off something like this scam. all you have to do is say youre from *enter compromised topical area here*, look for some pictures\videos on facebook\tiktok (a lot of the time they arent even from where they claim they are, a lot of footage you see from gaza was actually taken in syria years ago), make up a name and boom. you have the perfect side hustle.

and being that gofund me does not operate in israel or palestine the fundraiser would have to be conducted by a third party, the scammers themselves are not claiming to be organizations acting on behalf of gazans. they are claiming to be the palestinians themselves using false names, spamming posts that engage with 'free palestine' related tags. you already know the person you give the money to ISN'T the person who "made the post". you have to trust that third party is going to transfer the money to that person the post claims to be. and thats already shady AF. not to mention, that third party isn't even a PERSON. theyre a bot! theyre already lying on 2 fronts- pretending to be the person in that troubled area, and pretending to be a PERSON AT ALL.

there has been a post going around that showed that most of the "vetting" accounts are bots themselves, or are just tumblr users (that again, DO YOU KNOW THESE PEOPLE??) who claim that the post is totally real guys! just trust me on it bro :)

DO YOU KNOW ANY OF THESE PEOPLE THAT ARE "VETTING" ON THIS???

there ARE ways to donate to that cause, that are verified and are related to official organizations. they just don't post their links on TUMBLR.

and the fact i have to sit down and write 5 paragraphs explaining that maybe not everything u see on the interwebs is REAL while some person can set up 100 bots to spam u with the lowest effort lie ive ever seen and just get away with it is RIDICULOUS. the fact that telling people that theyre being scammed is seen as some immoral thing to do is ridiculous. U MAKE SCAMMERS RICH AT THE EXPENSE OF VULNERABLE PEOPLE. stop. being. stupid.

[lynnaredfield3383]

DNI if under 18. Suggestive theme. Mentions of threesome. Cursing. Not my characters. Random thought I've been kicking around in my head for days.

Imagining Bakugo & Kirishima as neighbors down the hall of apt building. Knowing they own a gym and are both personal trainers.

Sure, they're hot AF, and you are average and fine with that. No way you're going further than polite greetings and smiles when passing them in the hall or elevator.

But then it happens. You didn't notice Bakugo as you got on the elevator with your best friend. In your defense, he wore a black ball cap pulled low over his face and an over size black hoodie hiding his bulked out form.

Had you known it was him the following conversation never would've happened.

"Come on. You know my weird turn-ons."

"Stop it," you laugh.

"Come on."

"Ugh, fine. Lefties, backwards baseball cap & watches."

"Okay, explain that freaky shit," your bestie looks over at you judgemental.

"I can't. I just find those things absolutely sexy okay? Can we finish this in my apt?"

You don't know who is in the elevator with you, but you feel uncomfortable continuing this convo.

"Oh man, I hope we see your neighbors. How have you not flirted with either of them? I'd love to be in the middle of those two..."

You elbow your best friend embarrassed by her loud mouth and shameless behavior.

"Please, stop. I'm sorry for her. I hope we didn't make you uncomfortable."

You apologize to the figure behind you. Head down still scrolling on his phone.

"No."

You breathe a sigh of relief and notice you only have one more floor before you get off the elevator.

"Don't act like you don't wanna be sandwiched between them..."

The doors opened with a ding, and you dragged your best friend off the elevator and straight into your apt, not looking back once.

Ever since that day, anytime you see the two trainers, they have their ball caps on backwards.

It doesn't make you suspicious, but it makes your legs jello.

Your suspicion is raised when two weeks later, you see both of them sporting watches. The sports kind that record all their workout progress. Bakugo, the blond one had always worn one, but Kirishima never had. More suspicious was the smirk they both wore as they nodded to you before you rushed into your apt.

Then, a knock on your door three weeks after the elevator conversation confirmed everything.

Opening the door, your heart jumped to your throat. Leaning against the frame, Bakugo backwards cap smirking. Beside him standing straight, slightly nervous, Kirishima.

"Uh, hi. Something you need?" You ask trying to sound calm.

"'Bout to make a sandwich. Wanna be the middle?" Bakugo smirked arrogantly.

"Man! You can't say it like that!"

Yep, one of them had heard your elevator conversation. What're you gonna do now?

**I know how corny the sandwich line is for Bakugo, but I just don't see him ever being suave. No matter how confident he is, I see him using horrible/corny pick-up lines or flirting. Sorry if it doesn't fit.**

[peanut0w0]

An Insane/Yandere Emilio Aguinaldo inspired by @artisticmaniacwithapen Illustration with this masterpiece.

Slightly HL Mabinaldo where;

Miong is going crazy, New body dropped (murdered) that connects with Pole. Those who he knew that very close to him. Miong becoming the monster he truly were just to get Pole in his side.

Specifically Miong slowly losing the clear vision he wanted to be. Independence and freedom like Pole wanted for the country. But ever since he developed this kind of obsession to his own Prime Minister. He's acting differently.

Might be him being psychotic af. Pole is suspicious to his actions. More concerning was, Alejandrino is getting death threats from unknown recipient. And Pole had been keeping tabs on Alejandrino's for his safety.

Unfortunately, he found out that Miong and Jose will have a night meeting to his house. A small party they said. But it was an orchestrated murder for Jose. (Sorry for this but crazy/insane Aguinaldo and removing his moral compass to become like a monster he is. Is so akfjkdnfkfk)

Maybe a Murder in the Mansion type will be involved. Aknfkdnff

(The fact I'm still confused about this HL. LNFKSJFKFK)

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

gods i want jealous! Vaggie with a twist

i want her to actually be both insecure af whenever Emily's near Charlie

AND also legit terrified what heaven might do to Emily if she keeps speaking up for the hotel

Vaggie dragging Sir Pentious aside ordering him to keep an EYE on her and he (and Charlie bc he mentioned it to her bc he asssumed sssshe already knew) thinks Vaggie's asking him to spy on Emily bc she doesn't trust her

and Charlie's like ok considering what the OTHER angels my gf used to trust did to her this is a pretty normal reaction to have??? like I'm gonna have to be EXTRA nice to Emily to make up for it but I can't really blame my gf????? Charlie not knowing she's making it worse-

BUT Vaggie ISN'T asking for Pentious to spy she meant for him to watch Emily's back and she TRIED telling Emily to do the same for him but she couldn't stop glaring while saying it (jealous) so it came out more like a threat

"Hey seraphim. You had BETTER stick close to our reformed snake man now he's up in heaven..."

idk i just really THIRST for Vaggie being torn!

On the one hand, she doesn't want literal perfect seraphim Emily anywhere near her girlfriend bc she hates herself and can totally see WHY Charlie might want better than her but also is still jittery from the fallout after her past was exposed and doesn't want to risk not being part of Charlie's life so if Emily would just stay away that'd be great-

on the OTHER hand she physically can't stop worrying heaven will do to Emily. like literally. her scars ache just thinking about it. what if heaven (or Lute) gets fed up and does to the young fiery seraphim it did to her

she can't stand the idea of another angel going through anything like what she did, the thought of Lute up there in heaven and Emily not seeing her as a danger is making Vaggie lose sleeps at night and FRUSTRATINGLY ENOUGH there's part of her that can ONLY relax when Emily is visiting down in hell (and touching her gf's hands waaaaay too much while Charlie smiles about it)

like GRRRR if Charlie thinks Vaggie's just being traumatized and suspicious so she doesn't know to sooth her about the jealously thing

and Emily sees the jealously thing but brushes off any hints about heaven maybe being a threat to HER now and unknowingly just puts Vaggie MORE on edge because of it

if LUTE was the only one smirking knowing what Vaggie's actually thinking and dropping little veiled threats, deliberately freaking Vaggie out more and getting Vaggie to act weirder by standing behind Emily with her sword out or playing nice and reasonable in public so Sera appoints her as Emily's guard during visits

Lute figuring she can use all this seeming paranoia / jealously from Vaggie to set Vaggie up for something by slowly emotionally isolating her bc of course she's too shit a liar to explains stuff without admitting she IS jealous and of course Vaggie's also too scared to risk Charlie's reaction to that

meanwhile Vaggie's at her wits end struggling between to urge to get between Emily and Lue for protection or stand between Emily and Charlie as a girlfriend and

oh it could make her such a nervous worn out WRECK i just LOVE thinking about it >:D

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Musings - Tentative Timeline (Pt2: The Trial)

I've been struggling with this for a while, cuz this ish just don't make sense, AMC. (I fully expect S3 to gotcha/retcon/fix stuff, esp. since who knows what Armand's tinkered around with in Louis' head.) I split this timeline in 2 parts: Pt1 has everything from 2x1 - 2x6ish (text & chart versions of timeline); and Pt2 covers as much as I can understand from the Trial's shenanigans. (I'm just one person tryna figure out wtf is going on, so if y'all have any insights, please share!)

I've been grappling with the sequence of events that led to the Trial since 2x6 aired, when Armand "could not prevent" his CHOICE to stand back and let Louis' family be abducted & tortured & killed.

Armand was actually in cahoots with Santiago the whole time (writing/directing/editing the Trial script); so was he also lying/making excuses about why THE most powerful vampire with the Mind Gift wasn't reading his own coven's thoughts?

So, since we know Armand put false memories into Lou's head about the Trial (which ofc makes Louis' account more difficult to parse), and we know Armand knew all about Lestat/Bruce since the very first day, I've just been wondering how early the Trial was planned out.

Cuz the BIG question everyone's circling around is WHEN Lestat arrived in Paris, and WHY he didn't warn Louis that the coven was planning something.

Theories range from:

Les willingly participated in the Trial, deliberately acting with ill intent cuz he was mad about Mardi Gras; "it's their turn to hurt." Lesdaughter Truthers are wrong, Les DGAF about Claudia.

Les was unable to warn Louis or stop the Trial cuz he was captured, injured & manipulated/mind-fogged (a la the book canon)

Sam Reid (deliberately?) hemmed & hawed about Lestat going into the rehearsal/Trial acting on raw impulse, with no plan whatsoever, other than getting Louis (specifically) out alive

NGL, I think ALL of the above are to some degree true! 😅

But I lean toward Theory #2 most of all, cuz that's how the book events transpired. But I'll be the first to admit that #2 is deeply flawed & hard AF to defend/prove, based on what little we actually saw in 2x6, 2x7, and esp. 2x8. Cuz it really does seem like Les LET an awful lot of bad ish happen that he too could've prevented.

So I wanna put 2x6 into context this time, to try and piece things together. Cuz the math REALLY ain't mathin, AMC.

What we have thus far:

According to Armand in 2x8, he started lying to Louis about the coven preparing the Trial the night Madeleine was Turned in 2x6.

November 1945

Armand knew the FIRST NIGHT Louis & Claudia arrived in Summer 1945 that they were lying about Lestat/"Bruce."

Spring 1946 - Spring 1947

The coven was suspicious the entire time--it's esp. obvs. as Santiago grills them about "Chicago":

Santiago vs Claudia (2x3) around Spring 1946, "Stick with it, Puce! You're almost there."

Santiago vs Louis (2x4) around Spring 1947, "New Orleans!" (It makes sense that it would take Santiago longer to confront Louis, as Armand kept complaining about Louis never being around the Theatre x x)

Late 1947 / Early 1948

post-September 1947, Santiago had already stolen Claudia's diaries & passed them around to the coven; and Celeste & Estelle had already interrogated Roget about Lestat.

Did Armand know Santiago was in Louis' apartment going through their things (while Claudia would either be out with Madeleine, or at the Theatre under curfew) --

--and did he know the coven was reading her Diaries right in front of him while Santiago & Celeste & Estelle were interrogating Roget about Lestat?

Esp. since all of this goes down in 2x6 BEFORE Armand had even met Madeleine & Louis/Claudia asked him to Turn her!

We know that by late 1947 / early 1948 (when Louis bought the Wols, then came home to find Claudeleine in his coffin, then took them to Armand to ask for the bite), Armand already knows that Lou & Claudia wanna do their own thing with Madz; committing the same "crime" that got Santiago's Maker killed--making a vamp without the Coven Master's permission--but ofc, Louis is NOT in Armand's coven.

Late 1948 - Early 1949

In the very next scene, we get Santiago & Sam in cahoots about Godot's projections/scripts. Patterns of behavior indicate that Armand LET this all happen, and only pretended that "the buffoon was in the audience."

In my Timeline Pt1, I surmised that the very latest Sam could've finished the Godot script was early 1949, cuz IRL Sam Beckett wrote the play b/t October 1948 - January 1949.

Spring - Summer 1949

So by Spring of 1949, Sam would be free to turn his attention to drafting a NEW script...for the Trial.

April 1949: Sam writes the Trial script.

(Is it JUST his half, or is Les already awake & in Paris & writing the other half with him? OR is Les awake & just in telepathic communication with the coven, and has no idea they're asking him questions to incriminate Claudia & Louis?)

2x5 & 2x6 also give us some very important contextual dates! Loumand references a bunch of events that happened around the same time, which can help approximate when Tuan's projections were being made.

LOUIS: The Berlin Blockade ended in May. The Geneva Convention was agreed in August. Some of the front pages from that year. But if you look in the filler, in the back pages. Strange crimes reported. ARMAND: A telescopic lens stolen from the Observatory at Meudon. A film company shooting the crime thriller 'Porte D'Orient' delayed when its inventory of color film stock is snatched. LOUIS: A gang of drunkards, hanging off of the side of the Eiffel Tower, all facing south by southwest, all muttering in unison--gone by the time police arrive by elevator. ARMAND: Crimes all left unsolved.

May 12, 1949: Berlin Blockade ends

June 21, 1949: Paris Observatory's missing lens reported stolen. (Because these are newspaper reports, we might also assume the actual time of the theft was the night before the article was published (June 20). But who knows.)

June 23, 1949: Oriental Port color film stock reported stolen; filming delayed. (Because these are newspaper reports, we might also assume the actual theft of the events was the night before the article was published (June 22). But who knows.)

The color film stock being stolen that delayed Oriental Port's filming is a VERY nice touch, cuz the movie was released in 1950, and was the first French film to use Agfa-Gevacolor film, which had only been available to the public since January 1949 (x x). So the film nerds at AMC really stay on top of their research! 👌

July 1949: Armand distracts Louis with library outings:

ARMAND: Ah, July, 1949. The reading room. LOUIS: Mmm. We broke into the same library every night that month, hypnotized security, as one does, flipped the lights, laid our backs on long tables and stared up at the ceiling. ' DANIEL: Hot. ARMAND: Iron pillars holding up terracotta domes, a light trick that made the ceiling appear higher than it was. LOUIS: And why not pass a month that way? An effortless, eternal life ahead of us. Funny thing, trying to remember what occupied one's time when one was ignorant of the plotting around him.DANIEL: Grab that. LOUIS: Santiago had broken into our apartme--I'm sorry. Grab what?

Louis implies that the "plotting around him" started in July 1949--or at least, that's when HE surmised (in Dubai, NOT Paris) that Armand had "started lying to me." Ofc, 2x8 would reveal that Armand was in cahoots with the coven since jump.

We can thus assume that this was when the bulk of the projector images based on Claudia's diaries were being drawn (whenever Armand wasn't distracting Louis with dates to the library). They already have the Agfa-Gevacolor film, and the Observatory's fancy projection lens, so that Tuan can animate whatever Sam had already written for the script. "But they had their Technicolor film. Tuan Pham's wizardry with it."

And ofc, they'd want to corroborate the diaries with Lestat's own testimony. (Esp. since it's clear from Claudia's diaries that Les ISN'T dead, just thrown in the dump--cuz Claudia KNOWS the only way to be sure you've killed a vamp is to burn them, and she's mad AF that they didn't do that to Les cuz Lou freaked TF out.)

Again: did they only call Lestat after they had Claudia's diaries (once they knew there was a chance he wasn't dead after all)? The dates seem to imply that this was the case--that Armand & Santiago & co. had suspected Lestat was alive ever since 1945, but it was only until 1949 that they bothered to contact him.

Fall 1949

September 5, 1949: report of Eiffel Tower climbed by "muttering drunkards." (Because these are newspaper reports, we might also assume the actual time of the events was the night before the article was published (Sept 4). But who knows.)

The September 5th date is the most telling: IF Armand is telling truth, this would be when the coven contacted Lestat, as seen in Tuan's projection during the Trial.

So, IF this is the truth & S3 doesn't retcon anything, the rehearsals with Lestat would've had to have started in September, after 3 months of Tuan's prep (the thefts started in June); and 5 months of Sam's writing & Armand's edits.

February 6, 1940 - September 5, 1949: Lestat's "state of repose" ends when the coven "wakes" him. (IF this is true, Roget was right that Les was just asleep, taking a long AF dirt nap. IF Les was awake before then, he was only motivated to come to Paris when the coven climbed the Eiffel Tower & told him the Trial was soon--likely still too emotionally damaged / psychologically injured to leave NOLA.)

Again, the big question is: what was Les up to while he was in Paris, b4 the Trial? Was he free to come & go as he pleased (in which case: why TF didn't he warn Lou?!); OR was he locked up (a la the books)?

post-September 5, 1949: Madeleine is Turned.

Right after the scene of Dubai!Loumand describing all the "strange crimes," we get the scene of Paris!Loumand in the park, discussing Madz, right b4 she's Turned that night (Lou's in the same clothes).

THIS is the night Armand claimed he started lying to Lou, ("They gave me a choice"). And again: we know even THAT was a lie too, cuz UNLESS Madz was turned the exact same night that Les arrived AND wrote his half of the script AND rehearsed it (meaning Les wasn't starved/tortured at all), then Armand had PLENTY of time BEFORE Madz Turned to work on the script & direct the rehearsals.

The same night of Madz's Turning, Armand moves into Louis' apartment (and Claudia's coffin 🤮), with his magnolia sprig. And speaking of plants....

September-October-ish, 1949: Claudeleine finds the X, planting flowers outside Saint Denis.

I assume "cold things" are the cold corpses Claudeleine is burying; that "become warm" metaphorically, when plants/flowers grow over their graves. I know nothing about autumn weather in France. Going by clothes, it looks like it's still nice & warm, cut comfy enough for light jackets. I also know nothing about flowers, or what seasons they grow in France. But apparently Claudeleine's Fall flowers are fine:

Lavender: usually stops flowering in late August or mid-September; definitely by mid-October.

Sweet Iris: has high cold resistance, and goes dormant from November - March-ish.

Peony: apparently there are regular peonies & tree peonies, and they both like colder weather--the regular ones go dormant around November. Plenty seem to be ok in Fall, up to October-ish, that you can get at nurseries. And they really like bone meal as fertilizer, omg. XD

(My headcanon wants to assume that Claudia only agreed to visit Louis in Paris either cuz it was gonna be her birthday (9/21), OR his birthday (10/4). 💔 Cuz misogynoir, I'd bet Monopoly money it was Claudia's; DOOMED by the narrative! 😭)

Late 1949 (September/October): The Trial.

(Guys. D'you reckon those nasty theatre kids held the Trial on frikkin Halloween? 🤣)

Late 1949 (November-ish): Louis is kept buried alive in the wet room for at least 1 month after the Trial, before Armand finally pulls him out the coffin.

The latest the Trial could've taken place is October, in order for OVER a month to have passed and the fire still happens in 1949.

VERY Late 1949 (November/December): Louis slaughters the coven, the "Great Fire of 1949" send the Theatre des Vampires up in flames. 🔥

(The Talamasca folder in 2x3 calls it the "Great Fire;" which makes me giddy, cuz we also have the "Great Burnings" in the books, related to Akasha. I love how Akasha & Louis are paralleled, just slaughtering vamps with the Fire Gift, bless.)

1950

May 24 - June 4, 1950: The French Championship of 1950 takes place at Roland-Garros. Spoiler: the Australians lost that year. 😂