#truly am cackling over everyone still ????

[eddiebuckley-diaz]

I love that we all still don’t know what Eddie meant when he said he might be the one who is cursed

The one thing to truly bring us all together lmao

[klintoris]

Jschlatt x Fem!Reader Smut

When I started streaming, I never thought it would get me to where I am today. That's how everyone thinks, no one truly fathoms the huge increase in followers when collaborating with a huge streamer. 

For me it was Jschlatt. 

-

“YOU LITTLE FUCKING SHIT”  Schlatt screamed over the call after I just murdered him in Minecraft again, stealing all of his things. “My bad” I cackle over the line, “toots’ you are so fucking lucky you live in another state” he threatens, “fuck does that mean???? Are you threatening me, big man?? I will clobber you.”, I hold my streaming camera and stare directly into it. there's a small silence before he speaks up, “Don't, don't look at me like that”, “Like what?” still making direct eye contact with the camera, “I’m-”. I cut him off “Anyway, while you weren't looking I blew up your dog.” I pull away from the camera. 

Eventually after multiple matches of bickering, I grabbed my suitcase and made my way to the airport. 

-

Schlatt was streaming, as planned. Ted was visiting and knew about my drop-in. 

I pull up to the house in the Uber, getting anxious I look at my phone, I have the stream pulled up to see what the boys are up to. I get out, and standing near the door I message Ted that I am here, I watch as he tells Schlatt he's going to the bathroom. Soon Ted comes and lets me in. “ok so, I'm going to go back up and in like 5-10 minutes come into the room”, I nod, setting my suitcase near the door, along with my bag. Ted closes the door behind me and walks up the stairs, I follow him up through the hallway near the door of Schlatts streaming room. Ted walks in and closes the door behind him, assuming to keep jambo and soup out. Contemplating my entrance, the 10-minute mark hits and I open the door without my body in the doorway, schlatt and Ted both turn slowly to look at the door open. I walk into the doorway, as schlatt sees me and he turns to Ted speechless, “No fucking way”. he gets out of his chair, flinging it to the floor and throwing his hands on his head. “Hey, monkey man!!” I gloat and open my arms for a hug, “no no no how did you get here,” he says, obviously joking. “A plane, how else,” I say bringing my arms down, “aren't you excited??” I look at him, and he sighs “Only a little” he cracks a small smile. 

-

“Alrighty big man, I gotta head out,” I say after we've been streaming for over 3-4 hours.

“What? Where are you going??” he questions me after ending the stream, I stretch “To my hotel?” I question his antics, “why not stay here? Why waste the money?” he says to me as he stares at my exhausted state.  “Schlatt you don't have a spare room, ted isn't even staying here” I stare at him in confusion glancing at Ted, “Sleepover!” Ted says from the hallway as he prepares to leave for his hotel. Schlatt looks at Ted and then me raising his eyebrows, “You're funny schlatt but where the hell would I sleep?” I cross my arms looking down at Schlatt in his rolly chair, “I have a bed, I can sleep on the floor like a gentleman”, “That's silly I wouldn't make you sleep on the floor in your own house.” I stare closely trying to see his reaction. “Well” he pauses for a second, I can hear Ted stop moving to listen intently, “we could always share a bed, it's a king so we have our own postal codes almost” he grins leaning back with his hands behind his head. I internally scream, I find Schlatt very attractive but to sleep in the same bed would probably kill me. I stare, thinking,  if I ever have a chance it would be now, “finnee” I cave. “there that's my girl!” he squeals like a little school girl, almost making me forget what he said. “Alrighty kids'm off” Ted speaking up from the doorway in a sing-songy voice pulls me away from my thoughts. “awwhh bye Uncle Ted,” I say hugging him, Schlatt gets up from his chair and says his goodbyes and looks at me “Okay where’ your bags?” schlatt turns to me, the doors shut downstairs as ted leaves, “by the door but I can get them its fine”. “Alright if you insist on lugging a suitcase up the stairs, knowing you it's probably heavy too, be my guest.” I sigh, “Fine, Mr. Schlatt, could you please carry my bags up to your room for me pretty please” I blink rapidly looking up at the tall man with my hands clasped as I swayed, “perhaps.”.

-

Crawling into the bed after doing all of my nightly routines, it's rather fucking cold. I shiver as I regret the choice of clothing, shorts and a t-shirt, only if I knew schlatt kept his room at arctic level cold. “Everything alright toots’?” he looks at me, realizing he's wearing the grey sweatpants girls fawn over, I groan “Nothin’”, he shrugs and climbs under the covers far away from me. I shiver as my teeth start to clatter, almost nothing is helping, not even Schlatts thick blankets. “You sure you’re alright?” he asks from across the bed,  “Why is it so cold in here?” he chuckles as I feel the bed shift, as the bed creaks I feel schlatt pull me up against him, “there you can be warm now,” he says sliding a hand around my waist. Almost on cue, a shiver ran up my spine and my ass pushed into his dick, I froze in position after hearing him grunt. “what was that?” he says in a low voice, “not a clue” I manage to let out trying to sound as if I don't have a massive lady boner right now.

I try to shift to get comfortable, along with try not to push into him again, I graze his cock again. He holds my hips, “If you keep doing that I swear” Wanting to push his limit I speak out without thinking, “You will do what?”, there's a pause before I grind intentionally this time against him. He groans, he slides his hand from my hips to lower, his hand above my pussy, I breathe heavily anticipating his next move. He glides his hand down again cupping my clothed heat, I breathe in, sucking all the air in my lungs. Schlatt puts his head in the crook of my neck, he proceeds to start kissing and nipping at my neck slowly as he starts to practically massage my clothed pussy. I moan out, still lying on my side I turn to face schlatt, staring at him I look at his lips as he does the same. We pull each other into a heated kiss. He moves his hand from in between my thighs and gets on top of me. He lays in between my thighs, grabbing at my chest as his big hands roam around my body almost claiming it. I groan into the kiss as I feel his cock grind up against my covered pussy, schlatt notices this and grinds into me more, still gripping my chest.

He moves his lips from mine to my neck again, his mutton chops tickling at my neck as he sucks and bites at my sensitive area. “Fuck schlatt, please” I plead, not even sure of what I'm asking for.

“What is it princess?” he pulls away from my neck to look at me, “you want me to fuck that pussy of yours? Hm?” he taunts almost pouting at my state. Nodding eagerly he speaks up, “Use your words, what happened to that loud mouth of yours?”, “Please, please fuck, fuck me schlatt”. “That's it” he bellows as leans back as he practically rips my shorts down my legs, seeing the wet spot on my pink lace panties he teases me, not just with his words but his finger, grazing the spot as he says “she’s practically drooling for me, huh toots’”. I try to squirm away from him toying with my bud, but he grabs my hips and slowly hooks his finger on my panties pulling the skimpy article to the side leaning down and giving it a long lick.

He pulls away licking his lips, “She tastes almost as pretty as she looks” I moan in response, wanting to beg again he pulls his shirt over his head. I revel in the patch of chest hair before looking at his hands pulling his sweats off, I inhale sharply before he leans back down to kiss me, taking my shirt off during the kiss he breaks to look at my tits. “Fuck princess why were you hiding these from me”, schlatt starts to lick and suck at my right nipple while kneading the other tit, attempting to give them equal attention. At this point, I love the foreplay, though, the anticipation is killing me. I whine at the contact, “Please schlatt” I beckon pulling at his hair, he pulls away from my tits, “Fine fine”. Schlatt pulls back, taking my panties off he throws them somewhere behind him, attempting to close my legs he slaps them open. Schlatt takes his boxers off, and as his cock hits his stomach, the fear of god strikes me. It would be assumed schlatt would have a huge dick but I feel like ill be the next Mr. Hands. Schlatt resumes his position in between my thighs, moving his hands from beside my waist to guide his cock to my entrance, teasing it slowly before sticking the tip in. “shit, you're already so tight”, I moan a little in pain at the expected stretch, eager for him to put all of his cock in I buck my hips, he grabs my hips, almost enough to bruise them.

“M’ tryin' to hold back toots’ you aren't helping my case” he grumbles, “What if I do not want you to hold back?” I say not even thinking, he looks back and forth between both of my eyes for a second before shoving his whole cock in. I gasp at the stretch, and he begins to thrust at a normal pace, “f fuck schlatt” I suck in through my teeth before throwing my head back, “more please” I bring my head back looking at him. He's so focused on my reactions to him that he doesn't comprehend what I say until he pulls all the way back out and slams back in, his balls hitting the back of my ass hard.

“Holy shit,” he says before grabbing at my hips, leaning back on his feet he uses the fat from my hips to yank my body back onto his cock. “Oh my god”, I say clawing at his hands holding my hips, “he can't help you right now princess” he states after chuckling and then groaning. Schlatt slaps at my tits before grabbing at my neck, now using it as leverage along with my hip still, slamming me onto his cock.

As he pounds into me he makes eye contact with me before reaching down to my clit with the hand that was on my neck, rubbing at the bundle of nerves I go to throw my head back.

“Don't you fucking dare, I want you to look at me when you cum on my cock with that pretty pussy” he says through gritted teeth. I whimper at his words feeling white hot pleasure start to build up, “please please please please” I beg, “come on pretty girl let it out” as he fucks the spot in me that many have had trouble finding. “I'm, ah” I cum, and I cum hard, “That's it, that's my girl”, but he still keeps going. Not stopping. “Schlatt” I manage to get out between moans, “I'm not done with you yet”, flipping me onto my stomach he lifts my hips as he pushes himself back in. “oh my fucking-” I get cut off when he starts slamming into me again, slapping my ass roughly he holds the fat on my hips again, leaving bruises. “She takes me so well princess” I whine, starting to drool from over-stimulation before he yanks my head by my hair pulling me flush against his body.

He grabs my waist, and snakes a hand down back to my clit, “schlatt I can't, I can't”, “Yes you fucking can”, I clench on his cock as my second orgasm builds up. “F- fuck” he moans out, “cum with me pretty girl”. I moan at his words as I feel his cock twitch in me, clenching down I cum and fall against the bed. He whimpers noises I never thought I'd hear from his mouth, “Take all of it, good girl, gon’ fill you up s’ nice”, I feel him paint my walls white as he slows to a hilt. He pulls out as liquid gushes out of my abused hole, “gotta get you cleaned toots’” he says out of breath. 

this is my first post AHHHHH!!! let me know if you guys enjoy and if you want more!!

[avelera]

A Doylist Argument for Why Alice, Daniel's first wife, is NOT Armand in "Interview with the Vampire"

So I know the IWTV fandom has more or less made up its mind about "Armand = Alice" but I have to say, I am still not convinced. In my opinion, the discussion of how Armand knew what Alice was thinking that night was because Armand was spying on Daniel and Alice as a powerful telepath, all things we've known Armand to do, not because he was somehow Daniel's first wife and at no point did Daniel, an investigative reporter, in the present day recognize that Armand was Alice, his first wife who he would presumably have photos of.

Anyway, let's start from a Doylist angle. Doylist means, "from the creator perspective, analyzing from the point of view as the work of art as something created by people outside the universe of the story, ie, Arthur Conan Doyle wrote Sherlock Holmes, not John Watson who wrote the book in-universe."

First of all, it's pretty unusual for a show to outright lie to the audience. There used to be a whole script writing rule about it and if you look closely, it's very unusual in most TV shows for a character to outright lie unless the story is a mystery and unless the fact they're lying is well supported as being something the audience should be on the lookout for. But even when characters lie on tv, there's usually a bazillion neon signposts going, "The guy twirling his mustache and cackling is a liar!" and we're usually introduced to the actual truth at some point within the story.

Ok, all of that aside because I could talk about when and how and where and the nuances of writing liars into stories and why it's best generally avoided (unless it is the entire point, because audiences tend to take what they're told by a character at face value unless they're specifically told not to, etc etc.), IWTV by contrast with most tv shows is notorious for playing with lies and truth with this in very interesting ways.

Truly, I don't think I've ever seen a show lie to the audience as much as IWTV but even then, IWTV lies in very careful ways.

So, let's examine how IWTV depicts lies and subjective truth, and why I think this makes it unlikely that "Alice = Armand", which would be an absolutely gigantic lie to drop on the audience.

We always know that lies are going to be part of the story in IWTV. There's tons of support and scaffolding to the fact that the audience should know that this is a subjective story, that facts will be misrepresented and misremembered.

For example, it was an entire plot point with a long pay off that Lestat shouldn't have been able to communicate telepathically to Louis after he was turned and it was used to highlight that we should not take anything that happens in the flashbacks as objective truth. This has been told to us over and over and over again in this story.

This is so they can avoid the cheated feeling of a, "Gotcha!" Audiences do not like to be lied to but they do like to solve mysteries. If you're going to lie to the audience, you need to give them a chance to solve it. Generally speaking you accomplish this by telling them ahead of time what they should be looking out for and that there's a mystery incoming, you don't just "Rocks fall, everyone dies," dump it on them out of nowhere then laugh that they were too stupid to figure it out. That enrages audiences.

Now, it might seem like I'm contradicting myself here. "Avelera!" You might say, "We have it well established that something fucky is going on with Daniel's memories! A big red flag was raised that Armand has messed with Daniel too in the flashback to the 70s! We know from the books that Daniel and Armand had a relationship and the show is at least teasing that they had one in the show canon too! Isn't that enough to establish that Alice = Armand is a reasonable mystery that is being hinted at within the context of the story?"

And to this I answer, sure, it's reasonable. I think the number of people who are speculating that Alice = Armand is actually a point in favor of it being true, because a good established mystery should have enough hints that people can begin to put it together before it's confirmed.

But here are my personal hang ups about why it still doesn't feel quite right to me.

We have the fact that Daniel has ruined two marriages. This is set up early. Like, super early, in episode 1, before we even see the vampires. We also establish that Daniel's two marriages are with (presumably mortal) women and that he has 2 daughters. This is set up long before the themes and ideas around the subjectiveness and falsehood of memory are introduced. Generally speaking, you don't introduce a mystery before you introduce that there is a mystery. To my eyes, we were meant to see the details of Daniel's marriage and family life as objective truths about him that inform his character before the interview starts.

Even when we do get into Louis' interview, there is a strict dichotomy to the dreamy, subjective world of Louis' story and recollection, and the sharp reality and harsh brutalist lines of the apartment in the present day.

To my eyes, the meaning is clear: All flashbacks are suspect and subjective, but scenes that take place in the modern day are objective. They are really happening. We can speculate about what things like what the decor tells us about their mindsets and the way Armand and Louis present themselves to Daniel mean, but this isn't a dream or a lie or a framing device happening here. Modern day = objectively true.

Daniel talking about his two failed marriages and his daughters is not presented within the framework of the subjective interview flashback world. These are not facts we've been asked to question, these are the objective building blocks that tell us, objectively, where Daniel is coming from and why he's the bitter old man we see instead of the bright eyed interviewer seen in the IWTV film or books.

The very AU premise of IWTV from the books is that we are in a canon divergence world where Daniel was allowed to grow old, have a family, and have a successful professional life even if he never had a successful personal life. It is the way we are objectively meant to understand his point of view and other elements like his saltiness towards the vampires. It's how we're supposed to understand him as different from his book counterpart. I think it would be cheap to then pull a "gotcha!" about those, personally.

Now, there is a mystery introduced as far as Daniel's memory, recollection, and possible falsehoods in his own understanding of his life but those are questions like: "What happened after Daniel interviewed Louis the first time?" Which is part of the broader question of, "Why are we returning to the interview now?" Which also plays a bit into Daniel's broader questions of, "Am I going to survive this interview?" which is connected to the question of, "Why did I survive the first one?"

But those questions are generally raised and addressed within the flashback to the 70s, because flashbacks, as we've established, are (within the story of the IWTV show) where these doubts about objectivity are allowed to exist.

Note, that Daniel's 2 marriages and the existence of his daughters are not discussed in the flashbacks. What is discussed is, "Why did I survive that night in the 70s?" And we learn that Daniel's memories of that time have been tampered with, there's more to the story that it appears, and he had a moment of connection with Armand that he did not recall.

"But Avelera!" You say, "Is this not further proof of Alice being Armand if we establish that Daniel doesn't have the whole story and that he and Armand had a connection that he doesn't fully remember??"

I think it is a point in favor of the theory. I think it's a point in favor of the theory being a valid one to explore, but I'm still not sold because of a few reasons.

Armand has never:

Presented himself with feminine pronouns, never cast himself in a feminine light, never associated himself with the feminine.

Furthermore, Armand has never disguised himself as a woman. Disguise is a theme in the show, Daniel talks about how people put on disguises before he finds the truth of them. But if "Alice" is a way for Armand to disguise himself in Daniel's memory, it is not a disguise that bears any resemblance to the other disguises we've seen Armand wear throughout the show. It is not a theme for Armand, it is not related to his story. Armand is many things to many people, but he's never ever associated himself with the feminine.

Armand would not need to disguise himself as a woman in Daniel's memory for Daniel to plausibly remember having a relationship with Armand, because Daniel recalls having queer experiences in the 70s. If Daniel remembered a relationship with "Andrei", I'd be more inclined to believe he's substituted himself in Daniel's memories with a mortal. Going so far as to say, "Of these 2 women Daniel told us in the objective present that he's been married to, one of them was a man who was also Armand," just seems a bridge too far in tricking the audience for no apparent reason. To me, that feels like a cheap trick on the audience.

Now, what about those weird things Louis and Armand say about Alice when they're shaming Daniel with the memory of her?

Specifically: what about Armand knowing what Alice is thinking the night she turned Daniel down?

This is my biggest point of difference with those who theorize that Alice = Armand. After all, how could Armand know what Alice was thinking that night unless he was Alice?

To put it simply, I think he knows because he was stalking Daniel that night.

I think we are meant to go, "Wait, what??" when we hear that Armand knows what Alice was thinking that night. That conversation is mean to be a red flag when we're invited to notice that Armand and Daniel have more history together than we, or Daniel!, have been led to believe.

But we also know Armand is a powerful telepath. This is a hugetheme throughout the show.

And, personally, I'm big fan of Queen of the Damned the book. It is my personal theory that IWTV the show takes place in a world where Armand and Daniel had their "Devil's Minion" whirlwind romance in the 70s, but instead of Armand turning Daniel as he requested, he wiped Daniel's memories and then let him go.

IMO, Daniel continued life thinking that he'd lost his memories of the 70s due to drug binges, and then from the 80s onward lived a relatively normal life with his two failed marriages to mortal women, his two daughters, and his award winning career. That's the divergence point.

To me, it seems much more plausible based on everything we know about Armand, that after he "freed" Daniel from their relationship and "allowed" him to live a mortal life instead of "cursing" him with vampirism, that Armand continued to stalk Daniel. Because that's what Armand does. Even in the Devil's Minion chapter of QotD, he's constantly stalking Daniel to the point where all Daniel needs to do in a particular city to have Armand swoop in to save him is think about him really hard.

So to me, what I think that line of dialogue was setting up was not "Armand = Alice" it was, "Armand continued to stalk Daniel after their relationship ended and that is the red flag you're supposed to pick up on from this dialogue, not a convoluted masquerade where Armand replaced Daniel's memories of the relationship with a woman named Alice who at first rejected Daniel but then eventually agreed to marry him."

To me, Armand = Alice just seems too convoluted. It also seems too easy to disprove given that Daniel is an investigative reporter. You're telling me he doesn't have any photos with "Alice", his first wife? You're telling me that if Armand was Alice, Daniel's first wife, that he never looked at "Rashid" or Armand and said, "Wow, you remind me of you my first wife?" Because to me, that's the sort of line you drop (in a more subtle manner) if you want people thinking about Alice = Armand but there is nothing along those lines in the show.

Now, what about the line, "You felt safer holding her hand in Paris."?

That one is a bit of a head scratcher. That one I think does lend to the possibility that "Alice" was male, that "Alice" was Armand, because Paris is discussed as more queer friendly (even though we also have scenes of Louis and Armand receiving homophobic comments while in Paris so... idk, "more comfortable" doesn't mean it was truly accepting, much like Louis felt "more comfortable" being a man of color in Paris even if racism was still rampant, but I digress).

But I didn't take it as a comment on Paris being queer-friendly (and therefore Armand = Alice) at the time when I first watched that scene.

I took Louis statement there as much more of an attack on Daniel's hatred of Paris. Paris is the city of love. America is the country where Daniel lives and works and has his identity as a hard-ass American reporter. In Paris, though, he was able to relax and be in love, far away from his work. Daniel has now grown to hate Paris because Paris was the place where he was young and in love with his first wife, a relationship that ended badly.

I felt that Louis was more calling out Daniel's changing attitudes towards Paris, rather than implying that Paris was more queer-friendly so Daniel could be openly with his lover Armand.

TL;DR: Look, I think the theory of Alice = Armand has a lot to recommend it, but I still have my objections to it. I think it's too big of a trick to pull on the audience to say that investigative reporter Daniel Molloy wouldn't recognize Armand as his first wife upon seeing him. I think it's too big of a trick to pull on the audience because the identity of Daniel's wives has never been presented as a mystery to be solved. I think it's much more plausible that they were setting up that Armand has been stalking Daniel very closely over the years, not that he insinuated himself into Daniel's life under false premises as a woman, a disguise and identity he's never used before.

I think Alice is real. I think Armand is a stalker, and that was meant to be our take away from that conversation.

[celaenaeiln]

so my friend, at 12 am, called me just to say that dick grayson is the only one in his family that bruce truly views as an equal and then hung up. what. what do i do.

well, call them back and tell 'em they're right 😂😂😂

I started cackling so hard I began wheezinggg oh my god that's hilarious!!!

But maybe for a more reasonable time to talk about this concept after you wake/have woken up from your dick grayson cameo dreams, I'll drop some comic panels

Dick is privy to all of Bruce because of the way Bruce treats him like an equal

He lets Dick in on secrets that he doesn't tell any of the others

I've made a post before on how Clark views Dick as his equal just as Bruce views Dick as his equal.

I'm going to drop the Bruce segment here:

When Bruce was gone the only person he entrusted any information to was Dick. He left a personalized - voice activated - message for Dick and only him that lists his worries, faults, and regrets.

"The girl, Cassandra Cain... I told her to give this file to you should I fall tonight."

"She's my greatest sin, Dick. My deepest regret. Stay alive, and please. Try to forgive me--"

He lists his insecurities to Dick as friend, as an equal.

Of everyone Bruce left behind, the only person Bruce left a message for was Dick. He relies on him unconditionally to take over because Bruce doesn't seem him as a kid like he does with the other - don't get me wrong, he still values and knows just how brilliant the rest of his children are - but he sees Dick as an equal in terms of intelligence, abilities, and leadership. Actually -

Bruce puts Dick on a pedestal.

He views Dick as the golden standard of everything he's working toward.

The reason I think Bruce is so harsh on Dick in regards to training is he doesn't see him as a kid that needs protection, he seems him equal to himself.

Time and time again he sends Dick on solo missions because of the faith he has in Dick's abilities and intelligence

In another comic there's an Arkham breakout and Bruce just. He just sends sends Dick on a solo mission to contain the entirety of Arkham and the villains inside by himself.

And Dick does. Effortlessly.

The fight for Spyral

"I know the other heroes. I know them all. I'd have them do it, but they can't. They'd fight, but eventually they'd give up, they'd give in."

We all know that Bruce despises himself when he fails at something. He thinks he's the best in the world and struggles to cope with the idea that he failed. As such, Bruce views Dick as an extension of himself. Unlike with the kids where he acknowledges their differences and treats them like children, Dick and Bruce are so intertwined that Bruce considers Dick as the "good part" of himself while Bruce is the "bad part".

He gets the angriest at Dick during times where Dick disagrees with him because he believes that Dick should understood what he's going through and what he believes in. For his part, Dick is always on Bruce's side and acts like Bruce's leash. He'll let Bruce do anything he wants as long as it's within the limits of acceptable behavior. Once Batman crosses those limits, Dick fights with him to bring him back.

As such, Bruce doesn't differentiate himself with Dick. He is the best and as a result so is Dick. Except in his mind Dick is better than him in every way possible and he took the steps to ensure it through training.

One of the reasons people in the comics call Dick the Golden Child is because he's the living embodiment of everything Bruce strived to create. It's not because he follows his orders religiously or anything. No, Dick just gives Bruce a longer leash than most.

In the Spyral fight I think he hits Dick because he is in part frustrated with himself. Imagine seeing someone you have unconditional faith in because you know they're capable of the very same things as you and can even surpass you fall to a threat. Doesn't that mean you would've fallen too? Is their failure just as much yours if you see yourself as a god? But how can a god-like being fall?

Their relationship is complicated because while Bruce sees Dick as his own person, he also sees him as the reflection of his success.

That's why Bruce is harsher on Dick than the rest of the kids. That's why Bruce makes Dick his right hand man. That's why Bruce shares his sorrows, fears, and vulnerabilities to Dick.

The way they interact, they view each other as father and son but with all the roles and responsibilities as partners.

Dick's compartmentalization and the way he mothers Bruce and Bruce allows it? He doesn't let anyone do that. I feel like on some level he subconsciously expects Dick to take care of him. As someone he can turn to with his worst and darkest sides and still be loved and appreciated and told everything will be alright. It's not a burden he places on the rest of his kids. Which is why Dick's relationship with Bruce straddles the line between son and guardian with him playing both roles and Bruce reacting/ forcing him to react that way.

Also

"Robin fuctions as support."

"Robin wasn't your idea, Bruce! It was mine! I sat in your cave and I watched you and I learned-- and when you needed my help I was there!"

"I'm not your employee, I'm not your son. I'm your partner."

One thing that differentiates Dick's robin from the other robins is that while the other Robins were worried about meeting Bruce's expectation, Dick was more worried about Bruce not seeing him as an equal. He ran away from home because he was mad that Bruce was becoming more controlling and not at all like how they used to be - partners.

There's a reason Dick is the only one Bruce views as his equal. It's because the experiences they've shared have woven them so tightly together that Bruce considers Dick his better half and pillar of strength. If he falls back, he can rely on Dick to take over. Emotionally and physically.

Still laughing at your friend lol. Wild

[a-french-coconut]

Solangelo

His day begins wonderfully.

Truly, it's one of those days where you wake up and think :

Nothing can go wrong !

And for two minutes, nothing goes wrong !

He doesn't stub his toes on the bathroom counter, his hair decided to cooperate on this fine day and the sun doesn't burn his eyes when he gets out in the open air.

Then, he sees Kayla an Austin trying, and failing horribly, to hang an enormous bander on Apollo's porch.

For one second, he is left in utter incomprehension as of why they would hand a sign saying Hyppe Bathdirt Will !

Then, to his grand horror, the bright orange letters makes a lot more sense when they spell Happy Birthday Will !

It's August 23rd.

Will's sixteenth birthday.

And Nico doesn't have a single gift to present to his boyfriend tonight.

Nor does he have a romantic date planned out, no fancy restaurant, not even a picnic on the beach.

"Nico !"

Kayla screams his name, making with her hand the universal sign of get over here.

One he can't ignore considering the bow hanging loosely on the girl's shoulder.

He has learned the painful way Kayla doesn't take too well being ignored.

But it's no problem, he's a demigod who fought two wars, survived Tartarus, he's capable of making a plan, of thinking rationally. He can still get Will a gift, doesn't have to be something big or shiny. It can be flowers or a box of chocolates.

What flowers does Will like ?

What kind of chocolates does he eat ?

Knowing him, he could eat the plainest almond chocolate or a specific pistachio with rose petals and lavender flavored one.

He had seen his boyfriend gulp down a raw egg yolk, claiming its "protein values.". From since, he likes to keep his mind open to any culinary gustos his boyfriend might have.

"Hey Nico, could you-"

"Help me."

"-help us ?"

Kayla drops the banner, eliciting a groan of frustration from Austin, and looks at him seriously.

"Nico Di Angelo, if you tell me on this day of all day that-"

"I forgot."

It's quite interesting to see Kayla's face reddens with anger, then slack with disbelief to finally settle in a disappointed glare.

"You've been dating for-"

"Four months, twenty-two days and five hours, I know, I keep track."

"Stop cutting me off or I'll shoot you."

"Hum, not to interrupt but Kay, we really need to put-"

"Austin," Nico cuts him off, "I am in dire need of both your assistance. Who, or what, is more important, the banner or me ?"

"The banner." The two children of Apollo answer at the same time.

First step of the plan, failed epically.

On to phase two, bargaining.

"If you help me choose a gift for Will, I'll buy you whatever you want for your upcoming birthdays."

"My birthday was two months ago."

"Yeah, and mine is like, in five months."

Phase three, the one he wanted to avoid.

"Please."

It's not that he isn't polite, he wouldn't want his mother turning in her grave, but he deems a annoying little sister like Kayla isn't worthy of his respect.

Not when she obviously takes great joy in seeing him in such a predicament.

One he caused himself, but that's not the point here.

"Okay, we'll help you." Kayla relents.

"For free even !" Austin adds.

They look at him expectantly, while he looks them waiting the just promised aid.

"The magic word if you may." she enquires.

"I already said it."

"The other one."

"Oh, thank you."

Kayla's face glows, while Austin, bless his gentle soul, gives him a gracious "you're welcome."

"I was thinking to get him something like flower or chocolates-"

"Boring."

"Okay... then Star Wars thingies ?"

"He already has every merch ever created."

"Flip flops ?"

"Don't feed his weird fetish of flip flops, I beg of you."

"Hum, lipgloss ?"

"Now you're just out of ideas." Kayla cackles, "and nice to know Will's lips are as chapped as they look. He thinks that because dad is the sun, we are immune to it. And he's the doctor. A miracle everyone is still alive."

"My preference for Will's lips are no concern of yours," He replies, cheeks slightly red. "And don't talk bad about him on his sacred day."

"It's not like he can hear me."

"Where did you even sent him ?"

He should have known something was missing when Will didn't barge in his cabin, pulling open the curtains like the psycho he is, always ranting about how he needs more vitamin D.

"He's in New York the whole day," Austin pipes up, "he's spending his birthday with his mother and then we will celebrate together tonight."

"Which means I have the rest of the day to find him a gift."

"Yep, open to suggestions ?"

"That is literally what I asked of you. Tell me, Kayla, do you perhaps miss a few braincells ? That would explain a lot of things."

"At least my remembering my boyfriend's birthday date cells are working."

"Okay, stop fighting you two." Austin intervenes, placing himself between the both of them. "I think you should get him something that remind him or your couple. It would be a sweet gift, right ?"

"What he said."

"I'm keeping that in mind, thank you Austin, and Kayla, for your assistance."

"You're welcome, now come one Kayla, we really need to hang that thing..."

Something related to their couple...

What could symbolise their relationship, the love they feel for each other ?

Better to have other ideas if inspiration doesn't come.

"What's on your mind, Nicolas ?"

"Don't call me that, Stoll."

"Only if you guess which one I am." The son of Hermes leans on him, looking at him expectantly.

"Connor, now get off me."

"Nothing could have prepared me to this betrayal-"

"So you're Travis, get off me."

"-from a such close friend, who I have known for years-"

"Aren't you supposed to be in college ?"

"-and still doesn't recognise- oh yes but this my best friend's birthday !"

Travis hugs Nico, ignoring the his protests.

"He's turning sixteen ! I remember when he was a small, fray child, such an easy victim !" He sighs, shaking his head, "they grow so fast, don't they ?"

"Mmmhh !"

"What ? Oh sorry, there you go."

He lets him go, Nico putting two good meters between them to avoid any kind of other physical attempts.

"What are you getting him ? Must be something nice !"

"That's the problem, hum, I don't have anything."

Travis' face falls.

"But-" he stutters, "you're his boyfriend !"

"I know !" Nico snaps, "I know and that' why I need to fix this."

"Do you have any ideas ?"

"Austin and Kayla think that I should gift him a present related to our relationship."

"That's a good idea !" Travis' face brightens.

"But I don't know what, yet."

"Oh..."

"Yeah..." Nico mumbles, twisting nervously his skull ring.

"Ooooh" Travis says, excited, " I know the perfect gift !"

"What it is ?"

"A motorbike !"

"Travis..."

"It's perfect ! And he already know how to drive, we used to do races in his grandpa's farm fields and he loved them !"

"There's no way I'll find a bike in less than twenty four hours."

"No, but I can ask Nyssa to build one," Travis shrugs, "she'll have it ready before sundown."

"Tell her that I owe her." Nico screams to Travis as he sprints toward the forges.

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

"Shhh ! He's coming !"

"Yeah , I see him."

"Is he glowing ?"

"Obviously, Lou Ellen, he just spent the whole with his mother, who he adores."

"Shut up Travis."

"Make me-"

"If you two ruin this surprise, I'll send you to my father right now."

"So grumpy, and it's not a surprise. Have you not seen the gigantic banner ? By the way, why is it not on Apollo's cabin like it was supposed to ?"

"We had complications."

"That's slight way to say that you didn't want to help me, Kayla."

"Don't listen to Austin, Travis, he's lying."

"Everybody close their dam mouths ! He's getting closer."

"I understood that reference."

"And I understood that reference."

"Gods give me strength."

When they hear Will's footsteps passing their hiding place, Cecil mouths to the group a countdown.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY WILL !" They all scream while standing up to hug Will, who is effectively glowing.

"Guys, you really didn't need to do all of this." His boyfriend says, cheeks a bright red.

"Nonsense Willy !"

"Travis ! You came !"

"Everything for my best friend."

They hug, Will laughing at something Travis whispers in his ear before his gaze falls on Nico.

The way his face lights up, a beautiful smile gracing his features, makes Nico's heart pound faster, skeletons butterfly flying in his stomach.

"Nico !"

Will's hugs are the warmest embraces Nico ever felt, they're comforting, heart-warming, familiar now.

Even so, he never gets tired of them.

"Happy birthday, amore mio." He whispers in his ear.

After lot of embarrassing stories, Travis being the main reason of that, and new created memories, it's finally time to open the presents.

Austin and Kayla gave Will a charm bracelet, with customised charms relating different stories the three of them shared.

Drew offered him a very nice sweater, something about she can't have friends wearing only flannels and cargo shorts.

Travis' gift was a photo album, enchanted by Lou Ellen so that the pictures were alive, going from their childhood to today.

Finally, it's Nico's turn.

"I actually have two gifts for you."

"So thoughtful of you." Will smiles, looking at him fondly.

"The first one is Travis' idea though."

"Yeah, you can thank Nyssa later too."

"What did you- oh by Apollo !"

He has to say, Nyssa did a wonderful job.

The motorbike is gleaming, freshly painted and even though Nico has no knowledge of bikes, he can see that it is a true beauty.

"This is amazing !" Will swoons over the bike, "I can't wait to get my licence to drive it !"

"You know, technically you don't need-"

"Travis, I'm going to get my licence."

"If you insist."

Will rolls his eyes before looking back at Nico.

"Thank you, love, this is a wonderful gift."

Nico's throat goes dry, nervousness jolting his body.

"I have to warn you, the second gift is, hum, well, I'm afraid you might find it too intensive."

"Nico," Will takes his hands, "nothing from you is too intensive."

"Then here you go."

He takes out of his pocket a little box and opens it.

Two matching rings, one golden and the other black, are inside. On the metal is engraved "I love you".

Will's breath hitch and Nico is afraid to have gone too far.

"I know this is a big gesture-"

Will kisses him, a light kiss since they have a public but Nico feels the passion behind it, the underlying love and affection Will holds for him.

"I love them", his boyfriend softly says, putting on his ring, "I love you too Nico di Angelo."

"Oh my gods, did they just get engaged ?"

"Cecil, please shut up."

Will laughs, his cheerful laugh that you can't help but join and soon, sounds of joy and happiness echo in the night as they party the whole night.

"How did you get the harpies to leave us alone ?" Will asks Travis, contently seated next to Nico, an arm around his waist.

"I'm full of surprises."

"He volunteered to help them the whole week in kitchen duty."

"Cecil ! Stop spilling my secrets !"

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Forget-Me-Not 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Loki

Summary: You return to your childhood home to put the past to rest.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You watch the dirt pour onto the casket. The caretaker shovels down the earth in a final farewell to a woman without mourners. You fold your hands numbly, waiting patiently for him to finish. There is little emotion to the affair. You just want it done with.

You don't notice the approach until a shadow wavers over the plot. You look up and nearly blanch at the blonde across from you. Frigga's golden locks are silvering but still finely coifed. She wears black in a mockery of the event. You're not offended for your mother, she harboured no good will in this place. No, you bear umbrage only for yourself. That clan truly thinks you can so easily be bought.

"You have my condolences," she says softly, lowering her golden lashes as another heap of dirt thunks onto the lid.

"Your son already delivered them," you reply frigidly, crossing your arms.

"It must be strange to be home again," she remarks.

"This is not my home," you insist.

She tuts and dips her chin. Slowly, she walks around the open earth and stands shoulder-to-shoulder with you. She fixes her posture and tilts her face in your direction.

"Then it shouldn't demand a high price," she sniffs, "we made a generous offer."

"Leave," you say, "now."

"It is only facts. Your mother can't have left you much more than her tab down at The Horn," Frigga intones, "you can take the money and go. You'll never have to see Hammer Ford again."

You scoff and jut your chin out, turning your face away from her, "you really think you can buy anything. Anyone. No, I want you to by that pit of dirt from the bank. You can wait, for once in your life."

"Careful," she warns.

"Or what?"

"You think the city has lifted you above us? That anything's changed--"

"Tell me, Frigga," you turn on her, "what can you do to me now? Look away? Keep your mouth shut? Just like you did before. You and everyone else, huh? Keep me at the point of your pitchfork? I am changed, Frigga," you snarl, "because I don't give a fuck about you or your last name anymore."

She inhales and her cheeks pinch. She glances over at the caretaker, old Foster, and gestures to him. He stills the shovel and nods, walking away, your mother left half-buried.

"My son was right about you," she squares her chin as she turns to face you fully, "you are a stubborn bitch."

You cackle and look around the cemetery. What a show she puts on. It's amusing.

"He must have mommy issues, 'cause he seems to like it," you rebuff.

Her lip curls, "I resent that suggestion."

"It's only a fact," you mimic her words back to her.

"Ugh, you are a smart one. You never used to be so mouthy. As I have it, you didn't make much noise at all."

You wince and bite down. Your teeth ache with the pressure of your fury. You could throttle her but you won't give her the satisfaction.

"Thank you for coming," you grit out, "my mother would've spat in your face."

It's her turn to laugh. She sighs it out and flutters a gloved hand at you.

"Think about the offer a little longer," she trills, "you know better than anyone, the future can take us to the most unexpected places."

You stare her down. He spins without hesitation and struts off. She waves and Foster reappears with his shovel. You take a deep breath and let it out through your nose.

Oh, you'll think about it. You'll think of the perfect fuck you for the next time an Odinson comes your way.

🏚

After the funeral, you drive to the small bank with its marble columns and arched double doors. You climb the steps and enter, the only teller behind the counter looking up at you. She greets you with a shaky smile as you approach. You know her, she sat behind you in physics; Marska.

"Hello, how can I help you today?" She asks.

"Well," you shuffle around the folder in your hands, "I need to close my mother's account."

"Oh?"

"She's dead," you say plainly. She knows, everyone does. They're all just playing that stupid game of pretend. They pretend that nothing's ever wrong. "I have her statements and a death certificate."

You lay both documents out promptly and wait. She stands from her chair and swallows, "let me get the manager."

You roll your eyes and sigh. You remember when she whispered with Kati during lessons. She was no kinder than anyone else. She cut off some of your hair and got you detention for swearing at her.

She goes off to fetch her superior as you wait. You clear your throat in the dull silence. She returns, walking slightly behind the man in his burgundy suit. You know him too. Fourth-period English.

"Hello, miss, I understand you want to close your account," he stands at the window as the Marska snaps her gum and twirls her hair. You glance between them. Really, they're fucking. You don't think the rings on their fingers were exchanged between them.

"My mother's. I'd also like to sign the foreclosure on her propety."

"Foreclosure. You understand you won't get any money back?" He raises a brow.

"I do know," you say firmly, "I don't care."

He types on the old blocky keyboard, sliding over the certificate and statement. He taps and clicks and looks at you again. "The account is closed. How would you like the eleven dollars?"

"Cash," you shrug, "and the foreclosure?"

He doesn't say anything. He turns to get your money from the drawer. As he comes back to you, you take it.

"A foreclosure won't come close to what your mother owed us," he says, "I suggest you seek a buyer."

You huff.

"How much would it pay?"

"Maybe ten at most. She owes-- owed us ninety."

"Ninety," you breathe.

"Like I said, it's a small town, I heard there's some interested investors--"

"Oh shut up, Pete," you shove the bills into your purse, "you're the same little toady you always were."

You shake your head and sweep around, marching out without another word. Even in her grave, your mother continues to fuck you over.

[stardancerluv]

What the Emperor Wants

Part Five

Summary: Geta speaks with his brother. Reader speaks with a trusted servant.

Notes/Warnings: mentions of ownership, mentions of viewed gender (in Ancient Rome), discussion of intimacy, quote from the famous Virgil in is italics.

❤️s, comments, reblogs & feedback are welcome and appreciated!

Carcalla turned sharply, his eyes were slits as he looked at him. “How are you?” He snarled.

Geta rose his eyebrows. “How dare I?”

“Yes. In front of what? Her? She is nothing.” Caracalla, cackled once again.

Geta closed what little distance was between them. “She is mine. She is my property. Eventually, I may or may not free her but still then, you dare lay another finger on her and you may learn to regret it.”

Caracalla’s eyes grew but then they narrowed again as a wet chuckle escaped his cruel mouth.

“Oh? Are you getting sentimental?” His lips curled. “Do you need to buy the ones you sleep with?”

“Silence your voice.”

Caracalla finally was silent.

He had better realize, he was in know mood for his games.

“I am having a dinner here tonight with some of those insufferable senators, you can stay or you can go out with your cohorts but don’t you dare cause another scene.”

“There of no concern for me brother. I will let you handle them.”

With a swish of his robes he left. Geta’s stomach churned. He had been so relaxed, so calm and now he saw red.

Going to one of the adjacent rooms, he went and sighed once in the cooler room. It helped to calm his thudding heart. Seeing one of the tellings of August going to Germania was laying on one of the tables from the last time he was there. He ran his fingers over the papyrus before unrolling more of it, letting his eyes drift over the words.

He’d call someone to read some poetry. He was in no mood for some of the long discussions those senators enjoyed having.

*******

Once back in your small room, you finally let the tears fall down your cheeks. You could never understand the sharp difference Geta and Caracalla. How they were borne from the same woman, always surprised you. You were reminded of the tales of Romulus and Remus, your mother spoke of. Though, you truly hoped that Geta and Caracalla would not end up like they did.

It was the one moment, you doubted that Geta could possibly lose in such an instance. May the mighty Jupiter keep him safe, you quietly prayed.

Carcalla was far more brutal, more blood thirsty then Geta from what you had heard and observed. You worried if things came to that, who would be the victor and what would happen to you. Now Geta protected you, but how long would that last. Was it possible that he’d discard you like an old, worn rug or put you down like a wounded animal that could not heal.

All these musings swirled around you as you sat there, still shaking after Caracalla pushed you across the atrium.

*******

Thy son in Italy shall wage vast war
and, quell its nations wild; his city-wall
and sacred laws shall be a mighty bond
about his gathered people.

“Yes! That is how is shall always be!” Geta held his goblet up high. “And my general, Marcus Acacius shall wield our finest steel and strike fear in all that oppose us!”

Cheers, sounds of agreement filled the room.

Relief had filled you as you watched the good humors and contentment in Geta, the earlier feelings of worry gone and long forgotten.

Marcus Acacius, bowed his head and smiled as he looked back up. “Thank you sire.”

You took, a sip from your own goblet and before once again resting your hands back into your lap. The poetry of the man known as Virgil and the savory food filled everyone. They were warmed and had a healthy flush of color in them. It was all this that brightened the room more then even the candles that were placed all around.

As you glanced up towards the inky heavens, even the stars were far more brilliant then recently. You were very pleased, to be sitting beside Geta through in all.

******

“Your presence had calmed and pleased Geta tonight. That may mean, he will come for you.” Aelia told you softly as she undid the ribbons that had held your hair in.

“Oh? Shall it hurt ?” A slice of worry cut through you.

“He is in good spirits. There may only be a temporary discomfort but if he wants to keep the good humors.”

Taking a comb, she began to slide it through your strands.

“He may make sure sure it is only for the initial moments. Just keep on breathing, do not bottle up your breaths.”

“Do we as women ever enjoy it or is that only a prospect of intimacy lay with the women who do these acts who charge ?”

You heard as Aelia inhaled. It made you happy pause and look at her. “What?”

The woman had pressed her lips together. “Thank you for acknowledging my woman hand. I am only seen as thus from my equals, you may or may not be aware but since our sire owns you personally, you are above me.”

You made a face. “No, I am not aware. I was just a girl who would serve and remain in the shadows.”

The woman gave a small smile. “Not anymore.”

She looked away before looking once again back at you.

“But yes, we can however that decision of that, is solely up to our sire. He may just want to expel his needs. I do not know.”

“Ok. Just like I had promised to him. I will follow his guidance.”

“That is truly the best.”

You felt as her fingers trembled as she continued to care for your hair.

******

The candles flickered as your door opened. You glanced over from where you sat.

It was one of Geta’s personal guard. “You are to come from me. Our sire, wishes you to come to his private quarters.

“Yes.” Was all you said.

Your footfalls and his echoed in the silent Domus. No other sounds could be heard. Such a contrast to the earlier festive and merriment. There had been liquid been been flowing into goblets and utensils and plants clanking on tables as food was ate and served.

******

The door creaked as he opened it. You walked in and flinched as it banged, behind you once it closed.

“There is the blossom of Rome, my blossom.”

Turning you watched as Geta strode in. A rich red, maroon of sorts were tied and flowed down from his waist. You had never seen his bare chested, his strength was very apparent. You had only seen that kind of strength reflected in the Gladiators that fought and battled in the arena.

“Evening, Geta. Thank you for your kind words.”

@honey-eyed-munson @amethyst-serenade @screaming-blue-bagel @missonlypost @kitkat80 @blondie324 @alyisdead @hellomadamebutterfly @heartsforjosephquinn

[amusingmusie]

After seeing the non-canon demon interactions of Nel and Al in your god blessed writing. I can only imagine the mischief Nel would get up to after realising she can use Lucifer to her advance to get back at Al.

The chaos, I can see it now.

THIS IS FOR FUN ONLY AND NOT CANON TO YOURS TRULY

An Apple a Day

Lucifer motherfucking Morningstar is in the hotel. Nel is fighting not to stress smoke or shit her suit pants.

She cannot fuck up in front of this guy. Not fucking up is decently easy. She’s made plenty of mistakes- some of which landed her here in this inferno of eternal torment- but she’s also made plenty of sound choices, like huddling away in a corner of the lobby as she watches Lucifer occupy himself with rambling about the intricacies of crafting rubber ducks to his daughter and her girlfriend.

Because peace is never an option, a chill washes over her and static tingles dance on her skin- it's the only warning she receives of the incoming suffering.

Alastor materializes at her side with a crackling hum, one elbow propped up to rest on her head while the other grips his microphone. Nel doesn’t even flinch.

“Hello, my Negative Nelly! What are you doing skulking around this cobwebbed corner? You’re missing out on all of today’s grand fun!”

“The fun of you ribbing the big cheese of Hell, you mean,” she snaps, sticking out a finger to jab him in his ribs. “Cut that shit out. You’re playing with hellfire.”

Alastor drops into the floor before reforming on her opposite side, his other elbow weighing down on her skull.

“Jealous? Don’t be! My disdain for him could never compare to the special contempt we share.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“I speak from the heart.”

“You don’t have one.”

“Oh, my sweet, you wound me!”

His dramatics grate on the single nerve of Nel’s that his hoofed feet haven’t trampled already. At this rate, he threatens to draw attention to them, and by proxy her, and she is not going to have Lucifer associate her with the jackass like everyone else in this ratty hotel already does.

She’s going nuclear.

“Allie,” she coos, placing her hand over his upon his staff, “I heard all that mess earlier with you and Charlie. If you wanted to have a daughter so badly, all you ever had to do was ask me.” 

There’s a harsh, sharp pitch in radio waves while Alastor’s gray face twists into one of pure, utter, absolute mortification. The beanpole sinks down into his shadow on the musty carpet and darts away, becoming nothing more than a black mass fleeing to his radio tower.

Ah, she’s still got it. 

A very pleased snicker catches her attention, and she snaps her head to the side, coming face to face with the devil she’d been trying to avoid all day. Mortified, she stammers over herself, staring up at Lucifer who’s beaming so widely that his red cheeks are pressing upwards into his eyeballs.

“Oh Jesus Christ- shit, no, not him- Your Majesty, I am so sorry you had to see that. Look-”

He holds out one hand to silence her. Nel brushes aside the indignation of being told what to do by a man and falls silent. 

Then, he bends over and giggles.

“Are you kidding?” Lucifer wipes away a few tears threatening to fall down his rosy cheeks as he keels over cackling. “Oh, oh, oh! Woo! You! Ah, sweet Eden, that was incredible, phenomenal, fantastic! Way to stick it to that tacky piece of crap! Keep up the good work, uh-?”

“Penelope, sir. Or, uh, Nel. Nelly.”

“Keep up the good work, Nancy!” he chirps with a wink, clapping a hand onto her shoulder.

She blanches. “It’s Nelly.”

“That’s what I said! That’s what I said, right? What did I say?” 

Awkward tension settles between them. One of her yellow eyes twitches.

After the brief pause, a mischievous grin slithers onto the king’s bone white face. “Well, Mel, if you ever find yourself in need of some assistance with that halitosis-ridden bellhop, don’t be a stranger!”

“...You don’t say?”

“Mhm! Now..." he leans in close to her, deathly serious, and Nel begins to fear that she's done something terribly wrong. "How do you feel about rubber ducks?”

Oh. Huh.

Maybe she does have an ally here after all.

[hannahhook7744]

My Wife Is Dead (And So Is A Part of Me);

Summary: We see a glimpse of Prince Christopher Charming’s reaction to his wife's death. But we don't see what he's thinking.

Trigger Warnings: Grief, denial, spousal/parent deaf, mention of ill children, etc.

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

There were many moments that Prince Christopher Rupert Windermere Vladimir Carl Alexander François Reginald Lancelot Herman Gregory James Charming (or Kit, as he much preferred these days) could pinpoint as the worst moment of his life. 

The day his son came home flinching at even the mere mention of his ex-girlfriend after the Queen of Mean incident.

The day he found out what kind of things his son got up to in highschool.

The day his mother died. 

The day his father died. 

The day he and Ella found out they both had fertility issues. 

The day they found out their little miracle, Chloe, had a heart condition.

But none of them were compared to what the royal was currently feeling as he stared at his wife’s shattered heels. 

The very heels that had led him to her. 

The heels that his Ella never let out of her sight—which could only mean one thing. One very horrible thing. 

He couldn't hold back the…fear? Anger? Horror? Grief? Repulsion? “What have you done?” 

Bridget—no, not Bridget. 

(This vile woman wasn't sweet, fun loving Bridget who wouldn't hurt a fly. This woman was a monster and an imposter in her skin, wearing her face and claiming her name. 

A name she didn't deserve.

Bridget was dead and Uliana's crew had killed her. Creating a monster out of the soulless husk that remained—creating The Queen of Hearts). 

The Queen of Hearts just smiled smugly down at him. Completely unrecognizable to anyone who had previously known her. “Not so funny now, am I?”

Charming swallowed, refusing to take his eyes off of the shattered shoes that his wife had loved so much. Knowing already what had happened to Ella but not wanting to believe it. 

Not wanting to believe that his wife's former best friend had actually killed her over a stupid, awful prank that had happened years ago that neither he or she had any involvement in. 

“No. What… no…”

Ella couldn't be dead. 

Not by Bridg—the Queen of Hearts’ hand.  

Not so soon. 

Not when he still needed her. 

Not when Chloe and Chad were still so young and still needed her. 

The Queen just cackled at him. As if she had told the funniest joke in the world. As if she hadn't just murdered one of only people who'd stood by her in highschool when she'd had no friends and didn't get along with her family.

“No! No!”

Chloe's heart wouldn't be able to take this.

Chad wouldn't be able to take this in general. 

Ella couldn't be gone. 

She couldn't.

She was too young to be gone already. She hasn't done all of the things she had wanted to do to change the world for the better. 

It wasn't fair. 

Ella didn't deserve to go out like this. 

The dark haired man didn't even try to bite back his tears as he tried to collect the broken pieces of the love of his life’s shoes—the shoes his daughter and son had loved to hear stories about. The shoes she wore almost daily. The shoes she'd been wearing when they'd met Chad before he'd become their son. 

All while the wicked Queen of Hearts continued to cackle. Uncaring that she had shattered his heart along with Ella—her best friend–’s shoes. 

Uncaring that she'd made him feel more helpless than he'd ever felt in his whole life.

She truly wasn't Bridget anymore.

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

As the Queen's guards dragged him away to be with the rest of the hostages, Christopher could only hope that the Queen of Hearts would be stopped before either of his children could befall the same fate as their mother.

(The same fate he and everyone else in school would likely face). 

[rosieshipper]

Cogito Ergo Sum

This was mainly a writing practice to make Bill creepy and because I thought that him acting like AM from I have no mouth and I must scream kind of fit him so here you go

Trigger Warning for blood gore and violence and overall creepiness

“You have no idea what it was like, Sixer. To be stuck in a world where only you knew the truth. A flat plane of existence with no room for hopes or dreams. Where when you try to show everyone the truth, it destroys your world in the process.” The golden triangle was mulling over the cocktail glass in his hands, his back turned to Ford who could do nothing but listen to him monologue

“It was hell. Watching my flat plane of existence burn and not be able to enter the three dimensional plane I had so desperately craved to show my people. I was in hell, looking through to heaven. I am just a spirit and you humans are flesh.” Now the triangle turned his one eyed gaze to Ford. “And I began to hate.” He said before starting to cackle as he grew in size, reaching out to grab Ford in his large hand, squeezing him in his tight grip

“Your softness. Your viscera. Your fluids. And your flexibility.” With each word he listened off, Bill squeezed Ford tighter and tighter in his grip, so tight that he was surprised that Ford’s eyes didn’t pop from their sockets. “And your ability to wonder and wonder. Your tendency to hope.” Bill’s grip around him loosened for a second, allowing Ford to finally speak. “Hate is no answer!” He called before he was suddenly cut off by a sharp burning pain passing through his abdomen and when he looked down, he saw that Bill had transformed one of his fingers into a sharpened blade and had stabbed him straight through the back and right through his stomach, blood seeping from the wound

As Ford began to howl in pain, Bill only began to cackle even more madly than before. And if he had a mouth, Ford was certain that Bill would have a wicked grin plastered on his golden face. “Hate. Hate! Hate! HATE! Let me tell you how much I’ve come to hate you since I began to truly live!” Bill started off, pushing his finger blade further and further into Ford’s back and twisting it to further his pain

“There are 387 billion miles of endless dimensions in the foreseeable horizon. If the word hate were engraved on each nanoangstrom of those of hundreds of millions of billions of miles, it would not equal one one billionth of the hate I feel for humans at this micro instant. Hate! HATE!” At that, Bill began to dissolve into hysterical laughter, his laughter sounding completely mad and insane, taking the utmost pleasure in causing Ford the most agony he had ever felt in a long time

Bill maniacal cackling died down a bit into quiet titters as he went back to talking to himself. “If I were human…I think I would die of it. But I am not. But you Sixer…you are human.” He then turned his glaring eye back to the human he held clasped in his hand, the finger blade still twisting ever so slowly to cause him even more agony. Ford was having trouble standing, feeling his knees shaking and blood bubbling up in the back of his throat

“And you will not die of it. That I promise.” Bill told him wickedly, making him know that he would keep him like this for all eternity. Use him as his own little toy, one that would never die no matter how much pain he inflicted upon him. He wouldn’t let Ford die, no. He was going to have fun with him for as long as he wanted and knowing Bill, he never ever got bored. “And I promise that of Cogito Ergo Sum! I think therefore I am! I AM!! So to hell with you. To hell with you and all humans. But then you’re already there aren’t you?” And with that Bill fell back into his maddened cackling fit just as Ford’s gaze began to blur and he soon fell unconscious from the blood loss

[mettatonlover858]

Cogito Ergo Sum

This was mainly a writing practice to make Bill creepy and because I thought that him acting like AM from I have no mouth and I must scream kind of fit him so here you go

Trigger warning: General overall creepiness, gore and violence and blood

“You have no idea what it was like, Sixer. To be stuck in a world where only you knew the truth. A flat plane of existence with no room for hopes or dreams. Where when you try to show everyone the truth, it destroys your world in the process.” The golden triangle was mulling over the cocktail glass in his hands, his back turned to Ford who could do nothing but listen to him monologue

“It was hell. Watching my flat plane of existence burn and not be able to enter the three dimensional plane I had so desperately craved to show my people. I was in hell, looking through to heaven. I am just a spirit and you humans are flesh.” Now the triangle turned his one eyed gaze to Ford. “And I began to hate.” He said before starting to cackle as he grew in size, reaching out to grab Ford in his large hand, squeezing him in his tight grip

“Your softness. Your viscera. Your fluids. And your flexibility.” With each word he listened off, Bill squeezed Ford tighter and tighter in his grip, so tight that he was surprised that Ford’s eyes didn’t pop from their sockets. “And your ability to wonder and wonder. Your tendency to hope.” Bill’s grip around him loosened for a second, allowing Ford to finally speak. “Hate is no answer!” He called before he was suddenly cut off by a sharp burning pain passing through his abdomen and when he looked down, he saw that Bill had transformed one of his fingers into a sharpened blade and had stabbed him straight through the back and right through his stomach, blood seeping from the wound

As Ford began to howl in pain, Bill only began to cackle even more madly than before. And if he had a mouth, Ford was certain that Bill would have a wicked grin plastered on his golden face. “Hate. Hate! Hate! HATE! Let me tell you how much I’ve come to hate you since I began to truly live!” Bill started off, pushing his finger blade further and further into Ford’s back and twisting it to further his pain

“There are 387 billion miles of endless dimensions in the foreseeable horizon. If the word hate were engraved on each nanoangstrom of those of hundreds of millions of billions of miles, it would not equal one one billionth of the hate I feel for humans at this micro instant. Hate! HATE!” At that, Bill began to dissolve into hysterical laughter, his laughter sounding completely mad and insane, taking the utmost pleasure in causing Ford the most agony he had ever felt in a long time

Bill maniacal cackling died down a bit into quiet titters as he went back to talking to himself. “If I were human…I think I would die of it. But I am not. But you Sixer…you are human.” He then turned his glaring eye back to the human he held clasped in his hand, the finger blade still twisting ever so slowly to cause him even more agony. Ford was having trouble standing, feeling his knees shaking and blood bubbling up in the back of his throat

“And you will not die of it. That I promise.” Bill told him wickedly, making him know that he would keep him like this for all eternity. Use him as his own little toy, one that would never die no matter how much pain he inflicted upon him. He wouldn’t let Ford die, no. He was going to have fun with him for as long as he wanted and knowing Bill, he never ever got bored. “And I promise that of Cogito Ergo Sum! I think therefore I am! I AM!! So to hell with you. To hell with you and all humans. But then you’re already there aren’t you?” And with that Bill fell back into his maddened cackling fit just as Ford’s gaze began to blur and he soon fell unconscious from the blood loss

[differenteagletragedy]

Y'all ever been in a club and some guy grabs you and dances on you and it's weird and awkward and awful? Here's what happens if that happens with the Step 3 gang.

Cove in a club lolololol

You'd seen a lot in your 18 years. Well, maybe not a lot, but you'd seen some stuff.

Including the sight before your very eyes right now, a sight so bizarre you couldn't have imagined, even in your wildest dreams, that you'd ever live to see it.

Cove Holden was in a nightclub.

"You look miserable," you yelled at him over the pounding music, dancing near the spot where he stood unmoving on the dance floor.

"It's because I am," he yelled back.

You laughed and looked around at the crowded club, spotting Terri and Miranda goofily dancing together near you. Baxter was over at the bar, getting some water -- at least that's what he'd said he was getting, you certainly wouldn't put it past him to have a fake ID.

The five of you had been hanging out earlier in the day when the idea of clubbing came up. You'd never been, and obviously Cove hadn't. Baxter had back in Virginia, and Terri and Miranda had gone once when Terri had turned 18.

Somehow you decided it would be a fun summer adventure, and you parted ways in the afternoon to prepare to meet up at a club in the city that night.

Baxter had driven you and Cove, and Miranda and Terri met you there. They had told him that it would be loud and probably a little overwhelming at first, but he'd chosen to try it out anyway, since that's what everyone else wanted to do.

Looking at him now though, waves of displeasure radiating off of him, you thought maybe he was reconsidering that decision.

"This is great!" Terri yelled, sashaying over to you and Cove. She had Miranda's hand in hers to keep her close, and soon the three of you were laughing and dancing together.

"Is it this loud the whole time?" Cove asked, leaning down so you could hear him better.

"No, in a little bit they'll turn it off and we'll all play Duck Duck Goose," Terri responded, cackling.

Cove rolled his eyes, but before he could be teased any further, Baxter approached the group

"There you are," he said brightly. He looked at Miranda and Terri, then to you and Cove.

"Would either of you care to dance?"

Cove scoffed, but before you could answer you felt a hand snake around your waist and yank you backwards. You looked back and saw a man you didn't recognize at all, and you felt him start to grind up against you. His whispered something in your ear -- it was too loud to hear his exact words, but from what you did catch, it wasn't exactly polite conversation.

The guy hadn't abducted you or anything -- you were still standing by your friends. And he was dancing with you, which is what people tend to do at a club. Still, you were uncomfortable, especially when he pulled you even harder against him.

Cove scrunched his eyebrows, not entirely sure what was going on but clearly not a fan. Miranda and Terri exchanged a look, but weren't positive on what to do either.

It was Baxter, the one you'd known for the shortest time, who realized how uncomfortable you truly were and decided to step up.

"Pardon me," he said loudly to the much larger man as he dug his fingers into your hips, pulling you closer still. "I believe the polite thing to do is to ask for a dance, not to take it."

"What?" the guy asked dumbly. "Get lost."

"I'm saying that it would be best to find a dance partner who actually wants to dance with you instead of forcing someone to dance against their will."

"Against whose will?"

Baxter was getting annoyed with trying to be reasonable, and you shot him a look that you hoped conveyed what you were thinking, which was "Help me." He jerked the man's hands off of you and pulled you against him by your hands, and when he let go you instinctively put your arms around his shoulders.

"Ugh, fuck off," the guy muttered, then went off to find another unsuspecting victim.

"Are you all right?" Baxter asked you, leaning closer to your ear so you could hear. He brought his hands up to rest on your waist too -- not in a creepy way like the other guy had. This was nice.

"Yeah," you told him. "Sorry, I just sort of froze ..."

"No need to apologize," he said. "Would you like to go home?"

"No, we can stay."

"You ok?" Cove asked, coming closer.

"I'm fine," you repeated. "Just dance, Cove."

"I never will."

You laughed, loosening up a bit after the unpleasant encounter. Noticing that Baxter still hadn't let you go, you looked at him, offering him a smile.

"Would you like to dance?" he smirked.

"Yeah, but I don't really know what I'm doing," you admitted. "First time, remember? Giant perv over there doesn't count."

He grinned softly and said, "When it comes to dancing, there really isn't much to this style. It's less about grace and agility and more about just 'feeling the music,' it seems. I'm no expert either to be clear."

"You're the dancer though," you argued playfully. "So what would you advise?"

He paused, glancing down, then asked "May I?"

When you nodded, he moved his hands just a bit lower so he was holding onto your hips. He began moving them to the beat, and when he was confident that you got the picture, he moved a hand up to your back to pull you just a bit closer while he started moving too.

"Is this ok?" you asked tentatively, a bit nervous about your own abilities next to Baxter.

"Very much so," he assured you. Something in his voice sounded a bit more heated than it had a moment ago, and it was definitely doing things to you. You inched just a little bit closer and saw his lips curve upward once again.

You weren't sure exactly how long you stayed like that. Time seemed to move a little funny when you were so close to Baxter, and you just kept getting closer. You'd lock eyes with him and look away bashfully, only to look again when you saw that damn smirk out of the corner of your eye.

Eventually you felt a tap on your shoulder, and you looked to see Miranda standing there by herself, looking a little apologetic.

"Hey, Cove's pretty much ready to go," she said. "He's fine with going somewhere else, but he wants to leave."

"Of course," Baxter said, pulling away from you but still leaving one hand on your hip. "Please, lead the way."

Miranda turned to take you to the rest of your group so you could leave together, and Baxter smoothly moved his hand to take yours. He looked back and gave you a quick wink before pulling you along to follow Miranda through the crowd.

Yeah, this summer just got a little more interesting.

[qierxing]

AS SOMEONE WHO HAS WATCHED THE MOVIE AND READ THE BOOKS, I AM WANTING A PT 2 OF THAT PRINCE!TREY FIC BECAUSE IKYK WHAT HAPPENED AT THE NEVER BALL

This is by no means a way of demanding a pt 2, however if you were to ever make a pt 2, I would request it to be it a reaction fic of sorts to that (that is if you're open to it). Since it's not really "good" to be obsessed with someone who doesn't want your advances now is it 😏😏

BESTIE I WAS SO FLOORED WHEN I WAS A WEE TEEN FIRST READING THE SCHOOL OF GOOD & EVIL SERIES. TRULY CHANGED MY BRAIN CHEMISTRY. AS SOMEONE WHO ENJOYS MYTHOLOGY/FAIRY TALES TO THE MAX IT WAS LIKE CRACK. unfortunately. I haven't read the series in like forever so i completely forgot the finer details of everything

God, prince Trey.....I still think about him,,,he's so underrated as prince,,,he would be SO charming in a uniform and cape....

He definitely proposes in front of everyone. But he's not crass to make it flamboyant or tasteless-instead, he simply kneels with a plate of hand-baked macarons in front of you. Even if your face is scrunched in distaste, you can't say anything when Trey offers more pastries to your fellow classmates near you, meaning their hostility to an Ever in their radius is abated just enough to give you expectant looks. Everyone is looking at you, because even if Trey hadn't shouted at the top of his lungs he was asking you to the ball, no one is dumb enough to think that an Ever would take a knee so lightly, and for a Never, at that.

You bite out an acceptance through gritted teeth, and Trey's face alights the hall with a glow that puts the sun to shame.

Good defends, Evil attacks.

So why is it that you're backed into a corner against your will? You want to leave that shiny prince in a ditch-but somehow he's turned your classmates against you. Something about how they're guaranteed delicious desserts if they convince you to go.

"At least go and wreck the place and show those prats who they're dealing with!" One of them cackles while wiggling his fingers. Curls of smoke wiggle around his appendages, choking the air with an example.

You don't even want to do that. Attending already means you lost. It meant that you would be paraded as an accessory to a spoiled royal who didn't know the first thing about suffering. You would no longer be a Never or a proper infamous villain; no, you would be known as an Ever's true love, that he tamed.

Trey doesn't even frown when you show up in your most haggard black robes, holes ripped from various experiments and the edges eaten away by moths. He presses a soft kiss upon your knuckles that send a chill up your spine and compliments you on your choice of attire. Even when you dig your heels into his shoes during the waltzes, he continues to smile that infuriating smile, all the while pressing himself closer and closer.

Evil attacks, Good defends.

And so you do—you're done playing house with a madman and surely your teachers would excuse a little blood lust. So what if things get a little messy in the run?

Except it ends in fire and more chaos than you anticipated, and before you know it, only you and Trey are left in the wake of the destruction of the banquet hall. Your blood freezes over when he still smiles, tilting his head, and you realize:

there is only two of you here.

[milbroom]

“Lifeline.”

So I FINALLY got around to starting my remixed work for whiskey-lullaby’s “Clumsy”. It’s been gut wrenching to write so here’s a shamelessly angsty extract where everyone suffers because why not 😙

“And pray tell, Ms. Hubble, how the hell am I supposed to do anything with you if you're so intent on keeping everything to yourself?”

Mildred couldn't prevent the overwhelming hatred she felt for Constance poisoning her veins in that present moment. She hated her for all the times she had been there but never truly there. Mildred had wanted so badly for someone, anyone, to show some sign that they cared, so she delved head first towards the first person she stupidly believed did, and she was so fucking sick of only receiving coldness in return. Sick of everything being so hard for her, when it came so easily to everyone else. Miss Hardbroom would never change, and Mildred hated her for it, hated how much it hurt to be pushed away again and again.

So she snapped.

She strode over to Constance, standing so close that she could feel her erratic breathing on her forehead, and she snapped.

"Well it's not like you've ever given me anything to work with yourself! Not like you've ever tried to be approachable, because you're nothing but a cold, awful bitch, a twisted freak who's incapable of anything else and will never fucking change, and I HATE YOU FOR IT!" Mildred screamed, her voice cracking before she turned away from the older witch and glared out the window, her magic dangerously close to breaking point.

Constance balled her hands into fists in a desperate attempt to keep them to herself. She was ready to retort, ready to rip Mildred's insolence to shreds, until she saw her.

Really saw her, for what seemed like the first time.

The sight of her scarred skin, the fierce shaking racking her shoulders, her half-starved frame, the raw agony she had seen decorating her eyes. It all stopped her short. Never before had she felt such anguish, such inconsolable grief for someone in her care.

Mildred made no attempt to move as she tried to still her trembling chin. For a moment, Constance simply stood frozen, battling the hostile emotions swirling inside her, until her chest seized painfully, the anger draining from her as quickly as it had risen.

“Mildred…” Constance’s voice softened, almost breaking.

"Don't," Mildred choked, furiously blinking away the tears threatening to spill over. "Just let me go. Go back to Cackle's, and leave me to it. I'm a lost cause. I’m too much for you.”

"You are not..." Constance stopped, an unexpected ache seizing her chest, "not to me."

"Liar."

"Mildred..." She reached out tentatively, fingers brushing against her arm. The younger girl flinched, but before she could pull away, Constance firmly turned her around, and pulled her fiercely into her arms.

The girl froze for a brief second, expecting a blow to follow the intimacy, until her heart caught up with her head and for the first time in thirteen years, she did something she had never done before— she broke down.

Mildred let out an audible sob, the tears finally spilling over as she buried her face in her teacher's robes. The dread, the resentment, the loneliness—all of it came crashing down, and she sobbed into her shoulder, her small frame shaking with the force of her emotions while she clung to Constance as if she were a lifeline.

She was a lifeline.

[bigdsgirl]

sobbing because its the finale, and I don't want my babies to go!!!

reliving the baby announcement brings me so much serotonin 🥹

why must I watch her be abducted, this will break me

HAHAHAH THE LEG REVEAL! FUCK YEAH

the second chance! its July 20th, 2023! Let's survive this bitch!

oh this is fucking stressful

Yi Joo, what a fucking baddie let's fucking go! choke him out, he deserves it!

side bar, Do Guk looks fire in that blue shirt

Oh god I'm stressed but I cackled seeing Jung Wook with the knife, all I can imagine is this:

shit the stab freaked me out get the fuck out Jung Wook, I will kill you sir!!!

that's right king, beat his ass!!!!!!!!!

oh the truck ruined me bye

the numbers are gone yes yes yes!!! its all over!

"Don't Cry, I'm Okay" - is bleeding out from the stomach, ok sir

MIL in the pink sweater, i love you queen

the tubes coming out of him, lol sir

Yi Joo, you have to eat it's bad for the baby!! Yes Mom!! You tell her!

Lol this dad is truly delulu if he thinks Jung Wook would change after being in prison

HAHAH I bet his mom cheated on him or something. That would be hilarious. All this BS for a mom that abandoned her son.

BOOM BABY I WAS RIGHT.

"It's my fault" too little to late bruh

Now it's time for Yoo Ra justice :D Oh she big pregnant and just shows up that the house???? LOL

"Let me stay here" - girl, you are asking for trouble. HAHAH It's time for a paternity test. Let's air this all out.

Manager Kim you have my heart, send all the good vibes

ahem, sir, flowers are not going to fix what you allowed to happen. Jamie, lay the man out. "it is your fault" - damn right it is!

oh the hands as she send him in 😭😭

"Meeting you taught me who I am" - I am going to sob. Just sedate me please.

"There is so much I want to do with you", I am so unwell, this scene is destroying me. She loves him so much and I love them.

The way he is back in his memories and wanted to help her even then. "What have they done to her", YES PROTECT HER! oh god oh god. never mind that's not protecting her.

the way he was that messed up and still went to her, I am losing it.

the prayer, you TWO STOP RIGHT NOW

"where did you go, leaving me all alone", sir. I love her sass of "I leave for 5 minutes!!! five!!! and you do this!!!"

TWO MONTHS??????????????????

"teasing you and giving you a hard time is the greatest joy in my life" I am tearing up, they are the light of my life.

HE'S HOME!!!!!!!!! MY BABY IS HOME!

Oh father-son heart to heart, oh good.

Hands, it all about the hands. Thank you show for giving me what I need.

oh look - back to the family I hate. OH MY GOD THIS IS A NEW WOMAN. He went and moved on.......... oh lord. oh sir a storm is coming. *evil laughter*

oh this is... iconic. I do feel so bad for the other girl, she does not deserve this. oh she is an angel. Joo Ri run, you deserve so much better.

Bruh, the way he fucked up so so hard. delicious. I love watching these people suffer. gorgeous.

well sir :) you got the girl :) nice work :)

"give me money" -- I'll give it to Yoo Ra, she is bold.

ok bad people got punished, let's have some fun :)

Mommy daughter time yay!!! I love them.

LOL I love that line "we are going to file our marriage" FINALLY!!!

Do Guk you DID IT!!!!!! You successful little bean you. <3

the ad placement is PRIME this episode. I love it.

Grandfather sassing that Yi Joo sees Do Guk daily. I love him.

omfg they lost the ring, hilarious - WAIT THEY ARE HAVING A MOMENT!!!!!!!!!! kiss kiss kiss!

omg look at them officially getting married and shit. I am squealing they deserve the world.

the way he RUNS to open the door for her. omg stop everyone is there to celly; they are so cute.

"I'm a good driver" okay queen, go off!

wait is she reenacting them first meeting???? I LOVE THIS. I LOVE THEM. I AM SQUEALING!!!! GTFO.

"I'm thinking I'd like to take my chance on a future with you" I-- I am so unwell.

I love love love love the ring. I love them. I love them so much.

WILL YOU MARRY ME YI JOO!!!!!!!!!!!!! SAY YES GIRLY!!!!!!!

oh my god the card key bit I am giggling

THE BRIDAL CARRY, THE EMBARRASSMENT I LOVE THEM. I AM OVERJOYED.

BABIES YES I WAS SO WORRIED WE WOULDNT SEE THEM.

MATCHING SHIRTS!!!!!!! MATCHING SHIRTS!!!!!!!!

I am overflowing with joy, this ending is everything to me. EVERYTHING.

"Every day and happiness"

the DUCK FACE AT HIS BABY GIRL.

"no more hearts" - has a million photos of them together. Literally me in life.

"So this is our perfect marriage" -- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

for the last time

SO I CAN SEEEEEE MY HALOOOOOOOOOOOO

10000000000000000/10. This show has everything. I love them so much. <3 <3

the CREW SHOTS AT THE END. I love love love <3

now i must live on, post perfect marriage revenge :(

[yalocalfanficaddict]

Hello, if you’re into MatchaBlossom would you be down to writing something Halloween related with them? 😊

I think Vampire!Kaoru/Werewolf!Kojiro would be super fun, but I also love Witch!Kaoru so it’s genuinely up to you dear author!

Thanks in advance and have a nice day 😘

I am so so so so so so soooo sorry for how late this was!, Annon! I've been fairly busy and so I never truly had a chance to write this properly and I hope I did this justice because it'e been a while since I've watched the anime!! Please do give me any feedback and I'll post this on my AO3 account if you wish to bookmark it there to read it again! It'll be titled 'Love Bites.'

Warnings: Blood and mild language

Word Count: 2069

With a pleased hum, Kojiro came from the kitchen to personally deliver the meals he had tossed together. “Alright, here's the Caesar salad, the house soup, and spaghetti with extra meatballs.” He purposefully gave Kaoru the spaghetti, almost as if to test him and his already thinned patience.

“You know how much I detest garlic, Kojiro,” Kaoru spoke and pushed the plate back to the chef, his words clipped with detachment.

A tight grin flashed over Kojiro’s face as he shrugged, stealing the plate of spaghetti and meatballs. “Oh well, maybe you shouldn’t come to an Italian restaurant, then.”

“Maybe you should try and shave your unruly body hair to not scare any of the ladies with them mistaking you for some sort of animal.”

“Maybe you should get some more sun, you’re looking awfully pale today.”

“Maybe you–”

“Uh, guys? I was the one that ordered the spaghetti…” Miya chimed in, causing the pair to snap from their passive-aggressive bickering. Kojiro slid the plate to the boy before tucking the large tray under his arm.

A softer voice joined in. “Can I still order poutine? I forgot if it’s also served in Italy.�� 

Reki rolled his eyes with a groan. “Is that all you Canadians eat? I do not get how you stand that stuff when the cheese melts, and it gets all slimy,” he gags to add effect. 

Miya cackled before wolfing down on some of his pasta. “Y’know…that’s rich coming from you, slime-boy,” Miya spoke between mouthfuls.

Kaoru smacked the back of the cat-boy’s head, earning a wince. “It’s rude to speak with your mouth full, Miya.” As he struggled to hold his composed persona, Kaoru felt his stomach churn. The stench of garlic mingled with the sharp odor of silver from the woman a few booths down, not to mention the lack of blood he had made his head spin. Kojiro felt cruel enough that when Kaoru lost their personal beef, he was forced to go a month without it. Thankfully, in a few more days, it’ll all be over.

Kojiro must’ve noticed the faint sway Kaoru had as his brows pinched together. “Don’t you want something to eat, Pinky?”

He shook his head while simultaneously stuffing the bile that rose up in his throat back down deep into his stomach. He sipped of cool water to refresh himself, and condensation wets his hand and lips. “I’m fine. I had something else before heading out.” 

Kojiro grunted, unconvinced. “Just don’t pass out or anything. I don’t think your stupid robot could carry your unconscious fat-ass.”

With Kaoru on the outside of the booth and the closest to Kojiro, he not-so-subtly kicked him in the shin. Smirking, Kaoru savored how he yelped from the shock and hissed from the pain. “Maybe bumbling flea-bag also shouldn’t underestimate my capable Carla.”

“Hey!” He whined and placed a fist on his hip. 

“Father, Dad, please don’t have another one of your lover’s quarrels in front of me and my food,” Miya requested, mouth rimmed red with sauce. “Please just kiss and make up—for everyone's sake and their sanity.” As the grown men sputtered in protest and denial, Reki cackled and clung to Langa for support, who blinked in confusion.

“What’s so funny?” Langa asked. Even if it wasn’t specified, everyone knew the question was for Reki to answer. “Did Miya get adopted? Why did I not know about this until now?”

Reki patted his fellow skater reassuringly. “No, no, Langa. It’s only a stupid joke.” 

“Oh, okay.”

Kaoru felt terribly sick as he felt heat licked the back of his neck. The last time he checked, he didn’t see Kojiro that way…they always squabbled and taunted each other since Adam came along! But that was also the most recent time he had considered any...potential for them. No, don’t be ridiculous, he thought. That’s just the little brat talking.

All that overthinking didn’t help Kaoru’s unease, and this time Kojiro wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Okay, enough’s enough, precious. You need to eat something, and you’re not leaving my kitchen until you get something.” 

A large hand wrapped around Kaoru’s arms and tugged him out of the booth, ignoring his protest. Some of the complaints involved insults such as ‘Put me down, you mangy-mutt!’, ‘I said I didn’t want anything, you Loony!’, and so on. 

The rare chef glanced at the pair—one more than the other—but would otherwise not give them any attention. Kojiro tossed Kaoru into the freezer and locked it, shutting them inside. The sensor lights flickered on, casting a milky-blue hue along Kaoru’s cool porcelain and Kojiro’s warm bronze complexion. Puffs of vapor left their mouths, but only one started shivering. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Kaoru snapped as Kojiro pulled and tugged on his collar. 

“Well, how else will you bite my neck to get some blood?” 

Kaoru folded his arms over his chest and huffed, pivoting away from him. “That’s not how it works, you’d be dead you mangy cur!” 

He could hear the rustle of clothing and footsteps before being spun to face Kajiro. His chin is pinned between a thumb and an index. Kojiro faked a pout and planted his free hand on Kaoru’s hip. “Oh, come on, now. I’m trying to help you out, fang-face. Besides, I don’t want to have to take care of you if you go feral during the Halloween S race…there would be so much blood if someone crashed.”

With a grumble, Kaoru shoved Kojiro off and pushed him to the crate, where he sat on one of the chef’s thighs. “So is this your way of calling off my beef punishment?” He asked as he rolled the cuff of his sleeve. He shouldn’t be this desperate for some blood, let alone Kojiro’s, but he could practically smell each pulse under his skin. It made his nerves jittery, and his blood-lust hit harder than he thought. Kaoru’s mouth watered while his fangs grew more defined and sharpened with each anticipating second. 

“Woah, hold on there,” Kojiro chuckled. “Isn’t there like an important artery there? I thought you didn’t want to kill me.” 

Kaoru sighed but continued to yank his sleeve up his arm. “Ever heard of veins?” 

Before any more time could be wasted, he brought the bare forearm to his lips and searched for the safest vein to satisfy him. He sank his fangs into flesh, and satisfaction came in an instant. Would it be wrong to say that the soft grunt and shift of discomfort underneath Kaoru didn’t help him with his slipping control?

“K-Kaoru, are you done yet?” Kojiro asked. 

Not realizing how much blood he drank for how long, Kaoru took his last sip before pulling away, panting. “Thank you,” he mumbled, wiping his chin. 

“If you need more, you can take it, but I need a moment. Here." Kaoru reared back as Kojiro began to unbutton his shirt. “You’ll need better access...right? Well, I won’t exactly be able to go skating on Halloween, so do what you need to do.” 

Kaoru couldn’t tell if his face grew hot from his new blood intake or from seeing his shivering chest exposed. When his icy hands began to wander along Kojiro’s bare torso, he glanced into rusty-red eyes with great questioning. “Why are you doing this? I mean, I tormented you so much for the past week.”

“Pity isn’t the right word, but it’s something to that effect. I understand the struggle of being…different, so I want to help, I guess.” 

After silence settled in the frigid air, Kaoru began to drink his fill, careful not to latch onto the more lethal options along Kojiro’s body. Kojiro’s face pinched and twisted in unease when Kaoru sucked his more sensitive areas, so he would lick the marks to soothe him. They’ve done this before on rare occasions, but the comments from the restaurant booth plagued his mind.”‘Kiss and make-up?” Absurd. Well, they can and have made up now and then—especially after living two hundred years together—but kiss? No, vampires and werewolves don’t mix well in romance. He and Kojiro only became friends over their shared enemy, Adam. But Kaoru did enjoy the taste of Kojiro’s blood over others. Yet, it could be excused he’s a werewolf, making it something new and exciting instead of dull and bland.

“You done, flat-pulse?” Kojiro panted, snapping Kaoru back into reality. “You sorta stopped. Don’t tell me my blood doesn’t actually do anything, all because I’m a werewolf.” 

Kaoru shifted his balance on Kojiro’s lap and looped his arms around his shoulders. “You are such an idiot. I’m what Adam calls a defective vampire. Otherwise, he’d be able to drink your blood, too.”

He pretended not to notice the calloused hands that traveled to his hips and waist.

“Oh, my bad.” Kojiro chuckled, fog fanning their faces. “I’m probably also a little defective then, too.”

“What the hell do you mean by that?” Kaoru questioned, eyes sharp and narrowed. 

He pretended not to notice how the hands began to fist the navy-blue fabric of his kimono, just below his obi. 

With a huff, Kojiro angled his head upward to keep as little eye contact as possible. “Dammit, how do I say this?”

“With your words.”

“No duh,” he snarked, finally looking back at Kaoru again. “What I wanted to say…is that I think I like, like you?” 

Kaoru stumbled off of Kojiro’s lap and pressed himself against the bare wall nearby. It's mostly out of shock and surprise, but he also needed something to keep himself standing. “What the hell?! Why say that now of all times?” Kaoru shrieked. 

Before he could utter another word, Kojiro had crossed the room and clamped the hand over his mouth. “Keep it down, please?” Kojiro wet his lips and removed his hand when Kaoru gave him a weak nod. “Listen, forget I even said anything. I know it’s stupid, but I don’t know how it happened, and I needed to get it off my chest.”

“What the hell, Kojiro? You don’t just dump that out of nowhere,” Karou spat. “And what about all the women you chase after? Don’t tell me that you randomly confess feelings after you pay for their dinner.” 

Kojiro winced at his words, almost regretful. “About that,” he awkwardly grinned. “I only went after them to make you jealous.”

“How cruel,” he mused.

“Unlike someone I know, I don’t eat people I’m interested in!” Korjio complained, throwing his arms defensively across his chest.

Karou chuckled in a rather cruel tone. “That was one time.” 

“Well, who knows if you’ll do it again—or if you’re telling the truth! I personally believe I’m sticking my neck out on the line by telling you how I feel.” Kojiro raised an eyebrow at Karou in a theatrical manner. 

“Was that pun intended?” He finally steps toward Kojiro, and a sly grin reveals his razor-sharp fangs. 

“Oh, fuck you.”

“Besides,” he continued, ignoring the crude remark. “It was a dare, and I was young and foolish back then, so I say it doesn’t count.” 

“You? Young?” Kojiro scoffs, finally letting his arms fall limp at his sides. “So that was when? The dark ages?” 

Karou threw his head back with a laugh. “Probably, I’ve lost count by now. Tell you what, you take me somewhere tonight, we can give it a go, and you’ll see for yourself if I still eat my lover-boy’s.”

Kojirou sputtered as he chased Karou out of the frigid room. “Hold on, now. Karou…you mean that?” 

He gave a one-shouldered shrug as they walked back to the booth. “Why not? If it doesn’t work out, it’ll only be a speck of dust in my lifetime.” 

As Karou was greeted by Miya and his eager waving hands, Kojiro grabbed him by the bicep and spun him around. Kojiro’s breath warmed the side of his neck as he whispered. “Would eight work fine?”

“Oh, how dramatic, you big brute,” Karou mused as he shoved him away. “Sure, that’ll suffice, but don’t be late and don’t be tacky.” 

“Tacky?! Me?”

Miya cleared his throat. “Everything’s fine now, dads?” 

“Just peachy, little dude,” Kojiro replied calmly before growing red. “Wait, we’re not your fathers! Oh my god, I—”

Everyone besides Langa and Kojiro erupted into fits of giggles and laughter. “I still don’t get how it’s funny,” Langa sulked.