#(like. Victorian costume and everything)

[icewindandboringhorror]

Obligatory fancier outfit that must be present anytime I post outfits 

[kyouka-supremacy]

()

[allegriana]

Every time I see those godawful rings in The Rings of Power I am filled with indignation. You're telling me that the greatest living Elven smith set these chunky bizarrely cut stones into these incredibly basic bands?? Was this the wretched work of Sauron to make Celebrimbor forget everything he ever knew about lapidary???

These rings are completely out of step with the rest of the elven art nouveau aesthetic. Elrond was 100% correct; they should have been cast into the abyss before they infected Middle Earth with the desire for subpar costume jewelry.

The whole point of cutting gemstones is to make them catch the light and sparkle in a way that shows off the unique properties of the stone. Celebrimbor's grandaddy understood this perfectly when he crafted the Silmarils, which captured the light of the Two Trees of Valinor. (Then he apparently died without passing this knowledge on to his descendants and Celebrimbor was forever dragged for his questionable design choices, I guess)

Here are some examples of rings made by people who had a budget of more than $50 and more than a weekend to knock out their Jewelry 101 summer camp project

https://www.langantiques.com/lang-collection-art-nouveau-style-1-81-carat-diamond-ring-gia-j-si2.html

https://pebbleandpolish.com/products/victorian-art-nouveau-buff-cut-garnet-and-diamond-ring-in-yellow-and-white-gold

I'd be willing to entertain arguments about using larger/weirdly faceted stones, but you still have to design the ring to take this shape and style into mind

https://byangeline.com/products/partially-faceted-natural-sapphire-gemstone-raw-rough-diamond-18k-yellow-gold-engagement-multi-stone-1280

Galadriel, gazing in fascination at the first Ring Pop ever crafted by the elves. Look at how delicate the rest of her jewelry and costume are in contrast to the Temu engagement ring. The elves eventually have to take these rings off not because Sauron forged the One Ring but because theirs were turning their fingers green.

There are so many set and costume designs in this show that I love; clearly a lot of talented people worked on this show! I just wish that as much elegant craftsmanship had informed the TITULAR rings.

(I'm sure some there have been some defensive justifications for Why the Rings Look Like That but I tell you I will not be swayed by any of them)

[j-jinxee]

[ ⟡​ ] — KEEP QUIET,,

NSFW under the cut! ⊹ Nijiro x Reader

[warnings — quickie, p in v, unprotected, swearing, cumming inside, semi public]

-,' syn – Nijiro needs an outlet for his adrenaline. Shooting fight scenes as Kazutora and then having to wait for others to shoot theirs, it's throwing him off more than usual tonight.

[AN] no cuz guys, Nijiro literally never shows his arms. Like bro is always wearing long sleeves, jackets, or yk just baggy shirts in general. So this 40 second clip of him (where he's literally just in his own little world on the TR set) WEARING A SINGLET like I can't deal fr, I feel like a Victorian man seeing a woman's ankles for the first time, like it's driving me up the wall.

─────

"mm-ngh! Niji, fuck" your small whines were quickly silenced by Nijiro's hand covering your mouth. He had previously swept you away from the set, you weren't acting in the Tokyo Revengers movie but since your boyfriend was, you watched from behind the camera with the rest of the crew. It was so cool seeing your boyfriend in his element, you usually weren't allowed to be with the crew since you don't actually work for them, but the TR production was pretty laid back and let you stay to watch. Which is what you were doing, until about 5 minutes ago.

Nijiro was frustrated with the way they were filming. Usually they'd film a single characters scenes all at once, so they wouldn't have their actors coming on and off constantly, but for some reason they changed it for tonight. The night where Nijiro had to film his biggest fight scene.

It was really pissing him off, the way he'd get fully committed to the character, and then be told to go off and take 5 because they needed to shoot someone else. Why would they change the formula? It was perfect the way it was, now the production will suffer.

And above all else, Nijiro was told to take 5 right when his adrenaline would reach its peak. Naturally, he needed an outlet, a way to keep his energy up. Luckily, his favourite thing to put his energy into was standing right infront of him.

"keep quiet f'me baby.." he whispered, gently covering your mouth with his hand. The only lighting in the bathroom being from the dim street lamps outside, increasing the secretive atmosphere. You were pinned against the bathroom wall as Niji buried himself in your cunt, practically imprinting his shape into your walls. Your eyes travelled down to his arms, fuck. You mentally thank the costume team for finally getting Nijiro to wear a singlet, he never wore shirts that showed off his arms, so you made sure to remember this session over the rest. His sweat gleamed in the faint warm light, decorating his neck and collarbones, your eyes fixated on his fake neck tattoo. Fuck, you'd have to convince him to cosplay or something after this, the sight mixed with the pleasure he gave you was making your head spin.

His arms and shoulders flexed with each thrust as he held you up by your thighs, fucking into you like this was the last time he'd ever get. It took everything in you not to scream out his name, along with a nicely crafted string of cuss words, letting everyone hear how good he fucks you. Small whimpers were the most you could let out, not wanting Niji to get punished for having a quickie mid set.

"You're so good f'me... fuck baby" His voice was intoxicating, his touch made you feel ways you've never felt before. Your arms rested over his shoulders, not that they needed to — his strong hold kept you up with no issue. You were sure that if he fucked you any harder, you'd end up bringing down the wall you were currently pinned up against. He felt the need to groan louder, feeling it build — his mouth soon found your neck, sucking on your sweet spots, only bringing you closer to the edge.

You felt Nijiro's hips stutter, followed by his teeth digging into your skin a little harder than before.

"m-mmh cum, cum with me baby" His hot breath laced your jawline as he rutted into you faster than ever. Feeling that familiar knot in your stomach about to snap, you couldn't stay silent anymore.

"mmh- cumming.. cummingcummingcummi- ahh!" You cried into his neck. Shortly met with the feeling of your walls being painted by Niji's hot white seed, filling you up, keeping you warm. You could swear you saw heaven for a second, his touch made you drunk, reaching a state of euphoria you could never get anywhere else.

His arms gently let you back down, still keeping you steady with your bodies pressed together as you could barely stand. Whispering sweet praises in your ear as his hand went down to fuck his cum back into you, not letting any leak out. You smiled weakly as his words laced your eardrums, almost forgetting he was in the middle of his job.

"Nijiro! Wherever you are, you're back on in two." The director shouted.

"Fuck, 'm sorry baby. I'll take care of you when we're home ok? I love you" He said, getting his pants back on at the speed of light. Not bothering to wash his hands, but instead resorting to licking your combined juices off his fingers, and with a quick kiss to your cheek, he was gone.

You knew he'd keep his word, now all you'd have to do was wait till you got home to recieve his aftercare.

can't wait.

[wholoveseggs]

Hi there!! I been reading your works and I love your writing. This my first request ever.

I had this idea, and I was thinking about a gothic vampire reader with the personality and the looks of Morticia Addams, and the love for the macabre. And Elijah catches her attention and she catches his attention. Of course, they meet at a gala, a opera etc. And for weeks, they have been getting to know each other. Until one day, he comes over to her house, they are having a good time then the visit turns steamy and smutty, it is passionate and feral. And maybe with blood sharing between the two.

But of course, if you don’t want to then you don’t have to and you can ignore this.

Decadence

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Elijah meets an intriguing woman at the opera, leading to an evening of music, wine and vampiric indulgences.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @thealienartist!! Absolutely obsessed with this idea, I LOVE gothic romance & horror!!! This was an absolute dream to write. Can Elijah please be the Gomez to my Morticia heart? ♡♡

5.9k words - Warnings: smut, oral sex, blood drinking, I was self-projecting hard with this one... {I just want to be her}, black cats, chocolate cake, vintage wine, a love letter, Victorian gothic everything... I listened to Totentanz on repeat while writing this... {its a vibe}

Elijah had always enjoyed the arts, whether that be in music or literature or even painting and live performances. He found that the arts were one of the only things that made him feel truly alive. Even with his undead heart beating within his chest.

Around the turn of the century, Elijah discovered his love for horror. It amused him to see how humans depicted the supernatural, their interpretations of his kind were rather off. Vampires living in run down castles, with no regard for the world around them, their main purpose to drain the blood of the innocent. It was almost laughable, though some of his kind did enjoy that lifestyle.

It was during this time that he fell in love with opera, something his siblings didn't exactly agree with. Rebekah found it to be dull, Klaus found it to be pretentious and Kol didn't care either way.

They just didn't get it, the music, the drama, the costumes, had him completely enraptured.

So, when he heard that La bohème was being performed, he immediately made plans to go. He had seen it many times, but never got tired of the performance. He just wished that he could have somebody to go with, but none of his family wanted to attend.

He put on his favorite four piece suit, combed his hair, grabbed his black trench coat and made his way to the opera house.

As the lights dimmed and the stage lit up, Elijah couldn't help but feel a little sad, wishing he had someone to share this interest with, but he was content watching alone.

He watched as the curtains parted and the actors began their first scene, he immediately fell into a trance as he took in the performance.

Intermission was announced and he went outside for some fresh air, he was surprised to see a woman, who looked like she was plucked straight out of the past, standing on the balcony.

She was smoking a cigarette, the long stick held elegantly in her fingers. Her nails were red talons and her dark hair cascaded down her back, stopping at her hips. She was dressed in a all black Victorian style dress, which complimented her pale skin, making it look almost ghostly.

She tilted her head at him in acknowledgement, then went back to staring out into the night.

Elijah usually wasn't the one to approach women, he preferred for them to make the first move. But something about this one intrigued him, he was curious about her.

He stepped onto the balcony and approached her slowly. Watching the wisps of smoke rise into the air.

She looked up at him and smiled.

"Elijah Mikaelson, I presume?" Her voice was deep, but still feminine, her eyes darker than his own. She was strikingly beautiful, there was no doubt about that.

"You know who I am?" Elijah raised his eyebrows.

She chuckled, gracefully flicking her cigarette butt away.

"Who doesn't? The infamous Mikaelson's, who rule the streets of New Orleans with blood and fear... I'm a big fan," she said.

He smiled and shook his head, "We do not rule the city, we simply protect it from our enemies."

She hummed, a smirk gracing her ruby red lips.

"You do have a reputation," she replied.

Elijah nodded and stepped forward.

"What is your name, darling?"

She chuckled and leaned against the railing, gazing up at him with a smirk. "Y/n," she said, extending her hand out to him.

He grasped her hand gently, his lips brushing against her knuckles, her eyes sparkled as she watched his lips.

"Hmm, they don't make them like you anymore," she mused, her eyes traveling up and down his body. "You are so very old-fashioned," she added with a sly smile.

"Well I am quite old," he jested, matching her smile.

They stood and stared at each other for a moment before Elijah broke the silence. "What do you think of this performance?" He asked, gesturing towards the theater.

She shrugged, "I've seen worse, I've seen better," she replied.

Elijah found himself smirking at her response, not really knowing why. Maybe because he had found himself feeling the same.

"May I ask what brings you here?" He wondered why she was attending an opera alone.

"I was bored, looking for someone to eat," she stated. Her eyes roaming over his body once more.

Elijah let out a chuckle and ran a hand through his hair. There was only a handful of times in his long life that a woman actually made him nervous, this being one of those times.

She reached forward and placed her hand on his chest, leaning closer towards him, her lips ghosting against his ear, her scent surrounded him, it was intoxicating and Elijah found himself leaning into her.

"I'll see you around Mr. Mikaelson," she whispered and gently pulled away from him, giving him a wink before going back inside. Elijah watched her go, letting out a sigh as he shook his head, not being able to wipe the smile off of his face.

You considered yourself a solitary creature. Even in your human life, you tended to keep people at a distance. You felt misunderstood, even a bit judged by your peers, you didn't really like being around people.

After you were turned, things hadn't really changed that much, you still found it difficult to connect with others, but now you were mostly untethered and unburdened by society's rules.

The freedom of being a vampire was nice, to be able to go and do whatever you pleased, whenever you pleased and live however you saw fit.

You spent most of your years traveling, seeking out new places, experiencing new cultures and meeting people along the way. And with all this knowledge you learned exactly who you are and what you like.

New Orleans was one of your favorite places, full of vibrancy and life. It was an aesthetic heaven for you, a place that celebrated death, promoted the macabre, had strong connections to magic. Not to mention their appreciation for the arts.

For the last few decades, you had taken up residence in an old Victorian home. You compelled the local historical society to allow you to paint the exterior completely black. Planted dark red roses along the windows and hung little chandeliers made of animal bones along the porch.

You had spent quite a bit of time decorating the interior, making it a space that you could feel truly comfortable in. Something that made your home feel like it truly reflected your personality.

The house fit you perfectly; outside looking like something from a B-horror film, but the interior was homely and feminine, decorated with macabre pieces, gothic furniture, tapestries adorned the walls and candles were scattered everywhere.

You never really acclimated to modern society, you were turned in the 1800s and preferred to live according to the time. You liked old things, dark antiques, things that held a certain kind of energy within them.

So when you met Elijah Mikaelson at the opera house, you knew you had to add him to your collection.

You had heard about the Mikaelson family for a long time, whispers of them among the vampires. You had become intrigued, they were the oldest of your kind, the knowledge they possessed fascinated you.

You couldn't help the smirk that had stretched across your lips when you finally came face to face with Elijah, he was exactly how you imagined him. Tall, dark and handsome, dressed to perfection, emanating wealth and power. Finding him at the opera added to your attraction, knowing that his interests matched your own made it all that more charming.

Elijah Mikaelson was the fine wine of men and you wanted to bathe yourself in it. Wanted to drink up every drop of it, savoring the taste of it on your lips.

You sat in your living room, your cat on your lap, purring contently as you ran your fingers through his fur. You were dressed in a large silk robe, your hair tied up in a bun, dark wine colored lipstick on your lips. A mug filled with blood sat on the table beside you.

You were writing out a letter to him, with ink and parchment, your favorite fountain pen adding a certain flourish to your lettering. Your cat jumped off of your lap and you grabbed an envelope to place the letter inside. You folded the parchment and stuck it in the envelope, sealing it with wax and writing Elijah's name onto the paper.

You hoped he would like the gesture, you knew he was an old fashioned man, so sending him a letter with a gift was bound to catch his attention. It had been a long, long time since you felt nervous, and it had been at least a hundred years since you had a crush like this.

You grabbed the parcel with his gift in it and walked over to your front door, slipping on your heels, you headed out of the house and down your side walk, plucking a rose along the way.

The postman was close to leaving, just as you approached his mail van.

"Hello," you greeted, and watched as he turned and jumped, clearly startled by your sudden appearance.

"Jesus lady, I didn't hear you coming," he stammered, looking you up and down, a nervous smile on his face.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to catch you before you left."

He shook his head and smiled, waving away your concern.

"I have a parcel for you to deliver," you said.

He nodded and held out his hand for the letter.

"What's the address?" He asked, staring down at the envelope, taking note of your fine penmanship.

"The Abattoir, in the French Quarter. For Elijah Mikaelson," you told him, running your fingertips along the thorns of your rose.

The postman nodded his head and placed the letter in his van.

"Have a nice day," he said as he walked away.

You watched him climb into his vehicle and drive away, a smirk playing on your lips, hoping your letter would get the attention you desired.

Elijah was spending the day lazing about, enjoying a rare day of peace and quiet, catching up on his reading. He wasn't expecting any visitors, but a knock sounded at the front door, which was a highly unusual occurrence.

He wandered downstairs, a nervous looking postman was waiting at the gate, looking around the old compound with fascination and hesitation.

"Elijah Mikaelson?" He asked timidly.

"Yes?" Elijah looked at him in bewilderment, it had been a long time since he had received anything in the mail, it wasn't like he had a registered address.

"This is for you," he said, handing him the envelope and a small package, wrapped in crimson coloured paper and tied with a black ribbon.

Elijah thanked him and made his way back into his home, he wondered who could have sent him a letter, the handwriting was immaculate, a skill that wasn't common in today's world.

He realized who it was from instantly when he saw the initials, y/n. A smile graced his lips, feeling like a giddy schoolboy instead of a thousand year old vampire.

He quickly undid the black ribbon and opened the paper, revealing a beautiful piece of art, depicting a flying demon eating a young woman's heart. The detail was incredibly fine, and he realized after a quick sniff, that the red of the painting was not paint. It was blood.

A thought crossed his mind, he wondered if it was a piece of your art, he found your work to be truly frightening, beautiful and enchanting, reminding him of the piece Nighthawks, though darker and macabre.

Opening the letter, he read it carefully,

Dearest Mr. Mikaelson, I hope this letter finds you well, if not please pardon my forwardness. I never understood the flirting etiquette of the modern woman. I find myself longing for the company of a man with your refined tastes, such a delicate palette. I was intrigued from the moment we met, our meeting felt fortuitous. I must confess that I have not felt this way in centuries, being in your presence awakened something within me that I wasn't aware still existed. I find myself completely enamored. Perhaps my feelings are returned? If not, then please accept this gift in hopes of extending our friendship. Though I do wish you share in my hopes of something a little more. I will be home tonight, perhaps you would do me the honor of joining me for a drink? Until then I remain Your Admirer, y/n.

Elijah couldn't wipe the smile off his face as he gently folded the parchment and placed it on his desk. He immediately went to check himself in the mirror, fixing his hair, combing it neatly to the side. He found himself anxiously changing his tie, nothing matched what he was wearing, but he wanted everything to be perfect.

He found a pair of ruby cufflinks, feeling that they complimented the letter and would perhaps set the mood.

Grabbing his black wool jacket and adjusting his tie, he made his way outside before stopping and running back inside, he couldn't possibly come empty handed and he knew just the thing to bring you.

You waited nervously inside your house, you had decided to wear a simple black slip dress, your hair flowing over your shoulders in waves, your black winged eyeliner perfectly defining your eyes.

You needed a way to quell your anxiety, so you decided to play a tune on your organ, something to fill the silence, create a soundtrack to go along with the nerves that bounced around inside your mind and heart.

If he didn't show, you would understand. It had been quite a while since you've expressed your affections to anyone. It had been a lifetime since you were courted.

Your fingers idly drifted over the ivory keys, producing a somber yet melodic tune. Your nails were filed into sharp talons, painted a deep crimson, matching the lipstick on your lips.

The melody flowed through the house, the tune reverberating against the walls, seeping through the floorboards. Your cat jumped up and settled in your lap, the soft vibrations from the organ lulling him into a purring trance.

A soft knock broke the melody and you felt your heart stutter. Placing your cat on the seat you walked over to your door. Taking a steadying breath, you grabbed the handle and opened the door.

Men usually didn't have you so utterly flustered, but with Elijah, it seemed like even your centuries old blood could grow warm.

"Good evening, I received your letter and gift, thank you."

He greeted you with a genuine smile, an excited glint in his eyes. You let your eyes wander over him, taking in his appearance, he was dressed to perfection, like always, obviously following along with your old fashioned aesthetic. You liked that you didn't have to ask him, he just got it.

"Please, come in," you stepped to the side to make room for him, you shut the door as he walked inside.

"Quite a lovely home you have here," he said, admiring the interior of the house.

You took his coat and led him into the sitting room, pointing to one of the antique sofas.

"Please, take a seat."

He sat and placed the bottle of wine he had brought on the table.

You took the bottle and marveled at the label, your interest peaked, feeling slightly taken back, it was one of the rarest reds, bottles of this were difficult to come by, most of them now lying at the bottom of the sea.

You knew it was not a simple gesture, this was the kind of thing you save for very special occasions. Knowing that he considered this date that special made your stomach flutter.

"Now how did you manage to get your hands on this?" You asked, placing the bottle beside the two glasses you had set out earlier.

"My brother was the culprit behind a number of shipwrecks, during the golden era of piracy," Elijah responded, a smirk gracing his lips.

You chuckled as you grabbed the corkscrew. "That is no surprise," you replied as you popped the cork out.

You grabbed the glasses and walked over to him, passing him one of the glasses before sitting across from him.

You both raised your glasses and clinked them together, taking a drink, closing your eyes and savoring the taste.

"I heard you playing as I approached the house, you have a lovely talent," Elijah said.

You smiled and nodded your head, looking down at your wine.

"That was very sweet of you to say," you looked up at him through your lashes, admiring his handsome features.

You took another sip and watched him over the rim of your glass, his eyes watching you as well.

"What were you playing? Totentanz?" He asked.

"Indeed, it’s one of my favorites," you said, tilting your glass in his direction, "and it felt appropriate," you jested.

A beautiful smile stretched across Elijah's face as he let out a chuckle. His smile made your lips curl up, mirroring his expression.

"So tell me," he began, "What made you decide to come to New Orleans?"

You shrugged and crossed your legs, the sliver of skin left exposed as the fabric cascaded over your thighs, capturing his attention.

"I love it here, the culture, the art, blood tastes sweeter here," you said, letting a sly smile grace your face. "I like the way this city weaves death and beauty," you paused and took a sip, "it just feels like home to me."

Elijah nodded his head in understanding, he appreciated what you had said. "Yes, there is a certain allure about this city,"

"Your family helped build it back in the 1800s, no?" You asked, running your finger along the lip of your glass.

He nodded, "yes we did, from swamps and brothels to one of the wealthiest cities."

You chuckled and shook your head, "yet the swamps and brothels remain," you mused.

"But not nearly as much," he joked.

You both sat and talked for hours, getting to know each other, laughing and drinking. Elijah was surprised to find that you didn't mind listening to him talk about his travels and life, in fact you hung onto his every word. To him, you were utterly enchanting, the way your eyes lit up as you talked, your laugh, the way you looked at him.

At one point he got up and sat closer to you, his hand gently grazing your thigh, leaning in close as you spoke, his eyes locked on yours. Your lips parted and you felt his breath ghosting across your mouth, his eyes flicking down to your lips. He was such a gentleman, waiting for you to initiate the kiss, but you wanted to do one last thing before you tasted his lips.

"I made something for us, if you would like to try it," you whispered.

He leaned back and tilted his head, his eyes curious.

You smirked and placed your wine glass down, slowly standing up.

"Follow me," you told him.

Elijah trailed after you into your dining room, a large wooden table in the center of the room, filled with silver platters and a centerpiece of black and white roses.

You had made a decadent chocolate cake using human blood, the dark rich blood mixing with the cocoa, making a sinfully dark and delicious dessert.

You pulled out a chair for him and motioned for him to sit.

"This looks delicious, did you make this?" Elijah asked.

You nodded and cut a slice for him, placing it on a plate.

"Yes, I made it from scratch," you said, a small smirk playing on your lips. "Gathered all the ingredients from local suppliers."

Elijah hummed, taking his first bite, his eyes widened and he let out a soft groan.

"This is divine," he exclaimed, the veins around his eyes darkening.

You sat and watched him eat the entire slice, his eyes were blown out, the bloodlust apparent in his expression. You bit your lip, trying to hold in your excitement.

You pushed your plate towards him, a wicked grin on your lips. "Would you like another slice?"

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, the bloodlust making him look feral, his eyes completely black.

"I would prefer to taste something else," he said.

Your lips curled into a smile as he stood, pushing his chair back and pulling you out of yours.

His arms snaked around your waist, his hand coming up to tangle in your hair, pulling you flush against him. You ran your hand up his chest and wrapped it around his neck, your lips meeting his.

He tasted like red wine, chocolate and just a hint of blood, his mouth soft and pliant, his tongue brushing against your lips. You nipped at his bottom lip and he growled, pushing his hips against yours, walking you backwards, pinning you against the wall.

"Where did you come from?" He marveled, his hands grabbing your ass.

You laughed and ran your hand through his hair, giving it a light tug.

"Does it matter?" You whispered, pressing your lips against his again, kissing him hungrily.

"You've been in my city for so long, yet I only just met you, how very unfortunate," his voice was gruff as he spoke, his hips rolling against yours.

"I guess we will have to make up for lost time," you said, your voice dripping with lust.

Elijah picked you up and flashed up the stairs, his hands cupping your ass, his lips attached to your neck. He walked you into the bedroom, tossing you on the bed.

You laid there, propped up on your elbows, staring up at him, a teasing smirk on your lips, your dark hair fanning out on the pillow.

He looked at you in awe, your red lips were swollen from his kiss and the hem of your slip had risen up your thighs. He climbed onto the bed and crawled towards you, hovering over your body, his mouth finding yours again, his hands running up to the hem of your stockings, his fingers teasing the skin under the material.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and flipped him, straddling his hips. Your hands ran over his chest, undoing the buttons of his shirt, revealing his toned chest.

His hands roamed over your body, slipping the straps of your slip off your shoulders, revealing your black corset, his hands trailing over the boning, the lace covering your breasts, the garters that held up your stockings, and the panties that were already ruined.

"I miss when women would dress this way," he sighed, his eyes drinking in the sight of you, a look of hunger in his eyes.

You chuckled, bending down to nip at his bottom lip, your lips moving along his jaw.

"Happy to keep the tradition alive," you whispered, nuzzling your nose against his neck, your fangs running along the artery, feeling his pulse against the tip of your fangs.

Elijah flipped you over and pressed his body against yours, his hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing the sides, his thumb tilting your head back. His other hand found the ties inn the front of your corset, slowly undoing the knots, the ribbon sliding through the eyelets, the corset loosening with each pull.

You watched his eyes flicker over your breasts, his fangs extending, his breathing heavy. He looked up and met your gaze, his face shifting, his veins spreading underneath his eyes.

He bent down, his fangs sinking into your chest, your blood filling his mouth, dripping down his chin. Your eyes rolled back as he fed from you, his hand squeezing your breast, his fingers pinching and twisting your nipple.

The pain of his fangs and the pleasure of his hands were overwhelming, you felt drunk, you felt euphoric.

You grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his head back, your mouth colliding with his, tasting yourself on his lips. He groaned into your mouth and rolled his hips against yours, his bulge pressing against your core.

You both frantically began to undress, his pants and belt tossed aside, your dress and corset ripped off, thrown onto the floor. You laid back, wearing nothing but your stockings and panties, his boxer briefs the only piece of clothing left on his body.

He grabbed your hips and pulled you back underneath him, his lips finding yours, his hand running up your leg, hooking his finger into the thin strap of your panties, tearing them off.

"That was entirely ungentlemanly," you said, a teasing glint in your eye.

Elijah smirked, kissing his way down your stomach, stopping at your pelvis, his fangs lightly scraping the skin above your pussy.

"You don't seem to mind," he mused, his hand pushing your thighs open, his lips wrapping around your clit, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Your hips bucked and your hand grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging it, urging him on. You appreciated his enthusiasm as he indulged in pleasuring you.

His tongue felt deliciously warm against your skin, your eyes shut, your breath ragged. It had been so long since you had a man between your legs, and Elijah was no ordinary lover, his skill level matched his age.

You moaned and writhed beneath him, his thumb pressed against your clit, your wetness covering his chin.

"Fucking hell," you panted, your body starting to tense.

Your hands gripped the bedsheets, your body a ball of pent up tension, with one final stroke of his tongue, your orgasm broke through the last sliver of control.

You shook and gasped as your climax took over, your whole body erupting in pleasure. Elijah lifted his head, watching you, his lips curling into a sly smile.

"That's a sight," he praised, sitting up and wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

You slowly opened your eyes, a blissful smile plastered on your face.

"Indeed it is," you replied, your breathing uneven.

"But you should watch your language, I thought you were a lady," he teased, his eyebrow raised, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

You narrowed your eyes and smirked, leaning forward, grabbing his shoulders and rolling him onto his back. Your bodies were slotted together, your faces close to each other.

"When have I ever claimed to be a lady?" You asked, kissing along his jawline, nipping the soft skin at the end of his neck.

Your hands trailed down his body, running over his chest, letting your nails run down his torso, breaking the skin, long bloody tracks appearing.

You kissed your way down his chest, licking the blood up, your fangs scraping against his abdomen. You looked up and caught his hungry gaze, his body tensing under you, his erection straining against the fabric of his boxers.

Smirking, you kissed the fabric that separated you from his cock, your hands reaching up and tugging at the waistband, pulling them down slowly.

Your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, licking the pre-cum. His eyes fluttered shut and he hissed in pleasure, his hands tangling in your hair.

"Mr. Mikaelson," you said as you slowly descended on his cock. "I may look like a lady," you popped off him and kissed the head. "but I fuck like a dirty, filthy whore."

Elijah groaned at your words, the hands in your hair tightening, gripping your strands, guiding you back down, taking in more of him.

You bobbed your head along his shaft, sucking and lapping at the vein along the underside, one of your hands pumping the part you couldn't fit in your mouth, the other gently cupping his balls, squeezing and massaging them.

Elijah slowly began to rock his hips, matching your rhythm, his breathing heavy and rapid, his voice hoarse as he murmured your name.

Pulling his cock out of your mouth, you looked up at him, tilting your head, "yes?" You smirked, blowing air onto the tip.

Elijah pulled you up and kissed you, flipping you over and once again pinning you underneath him. He pulled your thigh up to hook around his waist, gripping your ass, letting his cock rub along your slit. He pulled on the hem of your stocking, letting it snap back against your skin.

"Gorgeous, intoxicating thing," he cooed, slowly sinking into you.

You threw your head back and let out a moan, your leg hiked up to allow him deeper access. He placed one hand under your thigh, holding your leg in place, while the other found your neck, his thumb grazing your windpipe, applying the perfect amount of pressure. The hand under your leg holding you firmly. You knew that a part of him wanted to give into the bloodlust, the animalistic side of him that was desperate to sink his fangs into your neck. His gentleness mixed with his aggressiveness drove you wild.

You felt every inch of his cock as he slowly rolled his hips, pulling out of you almost fully before entering you again. He leaned down and kissed you deeply, his tongue dancing along yours. It was intense and overwhelming, the way he had all your senses tied up in his touch, his mouth, his taste, the sound of his breathing, his movements.

You struggled to hold it together, your pleasure building with each stroke, and he knew, he loved seeing you come undone.

He began to pick up his pace, his hips snapping against yours. It was like the perfect dance, his hips moving so smoothly and perfectly in time with yours, both of you chasing the inevitable crash.

Your eyes met, and everything else seemed to fall away as you lost yourself in his gaze, everything slowing down. He kissed you softly, tenderly, making you melt in his hands.

You brought one hand down to rest on his cheek, holding his face against yours, kissing him back just as tenderly. You ran your index finger along his jaw line, your sharp nail drawing blood, dipping your finger between your lips. He tasted so much better than you imagined, like pure power and divine lust.

Elijah groaned at the sight of your blood stained lips and he sped up, his lips on your neck, his fangs running over your skin.

You tugged on his hair, urging him to bite you, to drink his fill, you wanted nothing more than to give yourself over completely.

His fangs sank into your neck, your blood spilling into his mouth, some of it dripping onto your chest, his teeth slicing into your skin.

The sensation pushed you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you, your hands grabbing at his shoulders, a strangled cry of his name leaving your lips.

He didn't stop, just as he was reaching his peak, he sank his teeth in deeper. He growled, his hips losing their rhythm as his climax hit him. You were both a gasping, moaning mess, clinging to one another, your fingers digging into each other's skin.

The two of you collapsed in a sweaty heap, tangled in the sheets, your skin glistening, breathing heavy.

You felt light headed and euphoric. His gaze was piercing and loving, his fingers brushing across your neck, softly wiping the blood off. His mouth gently caressed yours, his hands cupping your face.

He brushed your hair behind your ears, pulling you into his embrace, his fingers tracing your skin. It was hard to believe that you had only known him for a night, it felt like a lifetime.

A long overdue release of tension and you were happy to be the object of his affections. He was by far the most interesting man you had ever met.

You melted into him, his hands wrapping around you, holding you close. Everything felt perfect, the dim lights, the sound of rain in the background, the weight of him beside you.

The slow creak of your bedroom door opening, cut through the stillness of the night. The soft mew of your cat greeted the both of you, followed by the sound of him jumping onto your bed. The comforting feeling of his paws walking along the sheets as he came to investigate the disturbance in his home.

He walked along Elijah's body, bumping his head against Elijah's outstretched hand, purring happily.

"And who might you be?" Elijah asked.

"Erebus," you responded, stroking Erebus' fur. "It means darkness."

Elijah nodded, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk.

"An appropriate name," he mused, watching the black cat turn around on his chest, finding a comfortable spot to settle.

Erebus yawned and curled into a ball, closing his eyes.

You smiled and snuggled in closer to Elijah, your head resting on his shoulder.

"I guess Erebus wants me to stay," He chuckled.

You laughed and reached over him, scratching the cat behind the ears.

"It does seem that way," you teased. "And I have no intention of kicking you out."

Elijah smiled, kissing the top of your head.

"Good," he said. "Because I intend on staying right here."

You looked up at him and smiled, your heart skipping a beat. You had never met anyone who could make you feel so special and desirable.

Elijah's face was gentle, his eyes crinkled, his mouth curled into a smile. He kissed you again, a sweet, chaste kiss, and then he turned his attention back to Erebus, who was now fast asleep on his chest.

"Did you know that Erebus fathered Eros, the god of love and desire?" He asked.

"I did," you chucked, watching your little cats chest rise and fall.

"There is a play house not far from here, they are putting on a performance about it, the play is called Sweet Eros. Would you like to go see it? It's quite twisted, it seems like something you would enjoy."

You nodded and kissed him, a grin on your face.

"Mr. Mikaelson, I think this is the start of something beautiful," you teased, your fingers tracing his collarbone.

"Oh my darling," he said, his lips brushing against yours. "It already is."

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[copperbadge]

My ADHD video game, Endeavor OTC, used to offer only one player character body type, which is understood to be a form of alien or possibly robot, the graphics are small and it's difficult to tell. I liked having an "Akilian" body because you also got numerous skins to dress them in, everything from "dinosaur costume" to "butterfly-themed superhero". My favorite was the dapper victorian cat followed by the 70s-themed skin with the disco ball head. It was mainly irrelevant anyway since you don't really see the avatar during gameplay.

They've just introduced new body types, and points for saying "Feminine" and "Masculine" rather than "Female" and "Male", not to mention setting it up so you can change avatar easily and frequently. That said, offering me the option to keep my Akilian body or go to a gendered body just makes it seem like they have some real weird ideas about nonbinary people.

Wake up babe, new gender identity dropped.

I suspect they're doing this because they just got bought by a bigger company that wanted "normal" gendered avatars, which is a huge bummer, but we'll see. The Akilian body type still gets the vast majority of the cool outfits, at least. I'm sticking with Akilian unless they really up their game for the gendered avatars' clothing.

[ID: A screengrab of the avatar-selection menu from Endeavor OTC; it shows three body type options, "Akilian", "Feminine", and "Masculine". While the Akilian body does look more cartoonish, the main difference is the hair, although the Akilian and feminine body types are also thinner than the boxy masculine body.]

[puppyguppy]

There's a moment a few select individuals were privy to. A memory forever burned into some lucky handful of brains; those that'd been there, and not drunk enough to forget it. No one's sure if Aizawa even remembers it -- the core of the memory itself. That moment-maker. Not a single soul has been brave enough to bring it back up, or maybe everyone's just been too busy, recovering still, and rebuilding.

Which is what should've happened that night, but.

Those lucky, lucky few disagree.

Vehemently.

All in all, it'd been good for everyone.

An irresponsible reprieve, yes, but they were all so sick of being strong and responsible and the ones left alive. Aizawa, one of the most. Maybe the most -- out of the adults around, anyways. (Not that the kids could really be considered kids anymore.)

So, maybe that's why he'd allowed himself to drink so much. To drink so much, and let it go to his head instead of his heart. To drink so much, and let it take him to the dancefloor of the club, instead of the couch in his campus apartment. He'd still be in uniform, technically, not that anyone cared about that in the interim. The upper half of his jumpsuit had been folded and knotted around his waist though, chest clad in a black tank top. He'd had his hair tied up -- sort of. In this messy updo he'd temporarily adopted, which infuriated some and sexually frustrated others. Not that he knew, or cared. At least, that'd been the general assumption.

But, war changed a man.

As did twelve drinks.

Or, maybe, he'd always been like that.

After all, he had been friends with the R-Rated Hero, and Present Mic was only just barely any better.

It'd been Yamada, actually, that'd sparked the whole thing. No one knows exactly what he'd said, or did, outside of say something in Aizawa's ear and sway his hips. But, it'd made Aizawa laugh; the kind of laugh that'd thrown his head back and everything. And then, for those that'd just so happened to have been watching; heads turned and eyes pulled to that one particular spot on the sweaty, crowded floor, like Fate herself had guided them --

They got to watch Aizawa dance.

They got to watch him pop a hip, and then the other, the action immediately repeated and accentuated by the bunch of his costume around his waist. He'd been on beat without even trying, his body not even stuttering as pops smoothly rolled into waves. While the song that'd been playing at the time had been suggestive, what Aizawa had done with his body had been borderline obscene. Even if only because anyone watching felt like they'd gotten a glimpse of some Victorian lass's ankle for the very first time. And then.

And then.

He'd done this cheeky little spin on his good leg, thrown his head back again, his tank top stretched just enough to expose a little strip of hip, and -

and his hair had fallen, fluffy and gorgeous and all down in his face, the hairtie lost to the abyss of bodies. It'd shocked him into another laugh, but not bad enough to stop him from dancing, from damn near grinding -- no, that'd only stopped once Yamada couldn't take it anymore, and slapped his ass with a hand before more or less collapsing against his side.

He'd looked so young, for just those few minutes. Which was to say, he'd looked his age. Despite everything, despite the loss, he'd looked happy. And so, so fucking hot.

And for some, more than two but less than a hundred, that's now the memory that gets them through the day.

And well into the night.

The world was worth saving, the war worth winning, and the aftermath worth surviving.

[yuri-is-online]

Hello, hello! Congrats on making the 500 follower milestone!🥳🎉🎆 For the masquerade event, may I request prompt no. 12 with Leona, Riddle and Azul, please? Thank you!

12. You had a wonderful time dancing and flirting with someone at the ball, only to find out from your friends the next day that was your crush. And you have no idea if they knew it was you they were dancing with.

Hi hi friend!!! I am very happy to see you, in both my inbox and my notifications. I really hope you like what I came up with here, and look forward to any future requests you may have.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, SUGGESTIVE WARNING FOR LEONA (he gives Yuu a hickey) Leona? Self-destructing? It's more likely than you think, Riddle is a fragile Victorian maiden, and Azul is himself, a reference is made to his chat with Jade. This got a bit angsty but everything is ok in the end. The other event requests can be found on my masterlist here.

Leona

Just one night. That's what Leona told himself, one night with you in his arms, all your attention focused on him; your smiles, your laughter, the heat of your breath against his lips as he steals all of your air and pockets the sound of your gasps in the back of your mind right by all those times he got the last word in an argument with Kifaji. You were going to be his for one night and one night only, with a mask, hat, and cape to shield him from all your typical banter and sweep you up in the allure of the Masquerade. And it had worked, like the predictable herbivore you were you let him sweep you off your feet and monopolize all of your time for the entire night.

Your eyes had been drawn away by a particularly loud shout from the lizard's annoying retainer, that pointless concern drawing you away from him once again. He touches just under your chin and moves your head back towards him, trying not to let his smirk grow any further when you melt into his touch and completely ignore the commotion.

"Sorry," you do sound like it "where were we?"

"You were about to stop telling me how nice my costume is and do something more productive." The hears the heart rate increase before he feels it, tastes Yuu before he kisses them, and knows long before he pulls away that this was a mistake. He was supposed to tie off his feelings by proving to himself that attending one of these shitty formal events with you would suck.

And it sort of had, but only because he had to hear your strangled disappointment when he left you alone instead of ditching the soirée to come home with him.

Home. As if either of you would be welcome there. ~~~~ "So you wanted me to be sitting down for this conversation?" You have a feeling you know why Ruggie is here. It has something to do with the extremely inhuman teeth marks that would have been your death warrant if looks could kill.

"You already know you were sucking Leona's face last night right?" You aren't quite sure who Ruggie is trying to be polite to with keeping his descriptions to that already vivid medium.

"Yes," you look off just past Ruggie as if it will save you any embarrassment "I found out when Vil started slapping foundation on my neck and demanding I call my therapist."

"You should still do that." So it's you Ruggie is trying to be polite to, sweet that makes eye contact a little bit easier. "But- no after you do that would you mind talking to Leona? I'd say call him but he's just going to ignore you and I am sick of it."

"Oh come on," you try to lighten the mood with a laugh "it's only been one day right?"

"Try since you met." Ruggie mutters and your mood falls back to the stressful buzz of nonsensical energy that you had been stitched in all day. He probably didn't mean for you to hear that, just like Leona didn't mean for you to see him as vulnerable in anyway at all.

"Did he send you to pick something up?" It's not a question Ruggie jumps to answer, but he doesn't have to. "Mind letting me deliver it?" ~~~~ "You've got some nerve showing your face here." Leona knows it's you, and you wish you could say you're surprised he is able to tell with his eyes closed, you wish you could say the deep breath he takes before he opens his eyes is ugly or terrifying in some way so you have an excuse to run.

But for some ungodly reason you don't want to. Seeing him makes things less embarrassing, in a complete defiance of logic and good sense you feel nothing but confidence as you stride across the room and set the skewers Ruggie made on his room's coffee table. "Figured you wouldn't answer your phone so I just let myself in." You don't move any closer to his bed, not because you are afraid of him, something you know he knows as he makes a show of opening his mouth to taste the air and show off his teeth. No if Leona wants you-

"Here to say you regret it?" He means it as a taunt, but like so many of those it's a bit too truthful for you to really be insulted. "I just wanted a taste, you had to have known a herbivore like you would never be able to keep up with me."

"And you have to know that acting like a coward is unbecoming for anyone," the strength of your voice only surprises him, you know damn well Leona isn't the only one who is capable of being petty "let alone you." He closes the distance between for you, eyes narrow and a growl shaking you to your core but he doesn't dare lay a hand on you.

"You-"

"Are completely right and will not take any criticism." And now you are interrupting him, oooh you can piratically see the fire in his eyes. "Look, if you don't want me that's fine. I'm a big herbivore, not a little cub trying to cling to your warmth. But if you do-" You really wish Leona had a tie, it would make this nicer but he doesn't so you satisfy yourself with yanking him down to you with a fistful of his hair "then I want to hear it. And I won't yield until I do."

For a brief second, you wonder if any of what you've just done is smart. If you should have told Vil, Ace, Trey, anyone other than just Ruggie and Grim where it was you were going so they knew who to blame for your mangled corpse. But that would just complicate the excited flicker in Leona's eyes when he fully understands that you are serious. When he breaks free of your grasp with a simple shake of his head and-

Laughs. Freely and purely in a way you don't think you've ever heard before as he reaches out to that specific spot on your neck and wipes away the makeup with a simple, self satisfied spell.

"Beg."

"Excuse-"

"Oh I want to tell you," Leona is back in all his annoying smug glory, you should have expected this from someone who refused to apologize for overblotting "you have no idea just how much I want to say, but I wanna hear you beg just as bad, so indulge me a little yeah?"

I know you want to.

Riddle

"Hey congrats!" Cater almost knocks you off your couch with how hard he claps you on the back. "I was staring to think you and Riddle would never-"

"Wait, wait, wait, slow down." You make sure to put your mug down on a coaster and out of either of your reach so your precious morning brew didn't get knocked over by anyone's antics. "How did you get into my dorm and what's this about me and Riddle?" Cater gives you his best peeved look and you give him your best infuriated stare. Both of you know the answer to both of those questions; he let himself in, and you are in love with Riddle. But you do fail to see what that last bit has to do with anythi-

"Didn't you kiss him last night?" Cater is really glad you set that mug down because the wheezing cough you hack up would have been truly dangerous if any liquids involved. "He's been totally out of it all day, it's super cute you want to see some pics?"

"NO!" You manage an impressive volume for someone so low on air. "I just- ididntknowitwashimand-"

"You what?" Cater is only half paying attention, already moving to show you some admittedly extremely cute pictures of Riddle sitting in the Heartslabyul lounge with a cup of tea staring out the bay window, an unusual shade of pink decorating his cheeks with a strangely serene look on his face. You want to touch his chubby cheeks but Cater keeps his phone just out of your reach.

"I didn't know it was him." You say, quietly almost to yourself and though Cater does suck in a pretty deep breath he doesn't overwhelm you with his reaction. "I mean it was just on the cheek! I thought..."

Sweet. Your dance partner was so sleepy, and trying so very hard to stay awake. But it was clearly unbelievably far past his bed time, he can't stop yawning.

"I'm sorry, I'm being extremely impolite." He falls onto your shoulder anyway, and you feel compelled to protect him from the crowd, gently guiding him away from the lights and wrapping your cloak around his shoulders.

"It's ok, you shouldn't be sorry for feeling sleepy." He hums happily as you look around for one of the professors to take him back to his dorm. "I had a really fun time dancing with you already, I didn't know anything about formal dances before I came here so it was really nice to have such a helpful partner. You don't need to keep yourself awake for me."

"But I want to." He murmurs. "I want you to see me as reliable." Poor kid, he must really be out of it to be relying on a stranger for validation. Thankfully you finally manage to find Crewel and give your new friend a quick thank you kiss on the cheek before you pass him off.

"You're plenty useful, you don't need my approval." And you are gone before he can shout again about just how badly he wants it.

"I thought he was just some guy." You say. "And it wasn't like a kiss kiss, it was just a peck on the cheek." Something you never would have done if you knew it was Riddle, something he had seethed with jealousy over you giving out to everyone else and conveniently neglected to disclose to Cater as the type of kiss he had gotten. Cater had been under the impression it was a bit more... dramatic but then he supposes as he looks at you and then the picture of a pining Riddle on his phone, that this scenario does make a bit more sense.

Maybe the little teapot had an inappropriate dream where you held hands in the rose garden on the way back to Heartslabyul and gotten that mixed up with reality. A sharp knock at Ramshackle's door snaps you both away from your thoughts as Cater quickly excuses himself though one of the lounge's windows and you move to answer it, little doubt about who it could be. ~~~~ Riddle's entry to Ramshackle is much more formal than Cater's. He says nothing as you walk back to the lounge, you say nothing as you sit down on your couch, and he politely coughs when he settles into a recliner but still offers nothing in the way of an explanation.

"Thank you for letting me in." He does say that, because to do otherwise would be rude.

"You're always welcome over." And you can't exactly help but say that because anything else would be a lie. The silence stretches out as you stare at your poor mug in distress.

"Your tea's cold." Not the line you expected from Riddle, less so the genuine distress. "I'm sorry if I interrupted you."

"Oh it's ok, I wasn't really making much progress on it anyway." You had just made it when Cater showed up, and you had quite forgotten about it until you needed a distraction. "Did you have a good night's slee-"

"I love you." Riddle doesn't blurt anything ever, the words are as blunt and firm as a deceleration of the Queen's rules. Once again, you are very glad that no liquids are involved in the breath you are required to take. "I love you and would very much like to know if you love me too. It's alright if you don't, I'm content with our friendship, treasure it even, but I need to say something to avoid further miscommunications on my part like last night's." He moves, not quite to his knees, but deferring to you all the same. "Please." Riddle doesn't know what he is asking for, and you barely know how you answer. "What do you have to say?"

"I think." You gently take his hands in yours. "That I would like to make two cups of tea. And I would like you to sit a little closer to me."

Azul

He knew. There was no way in the deep blue sea that conniving, scheming, bastard hadn't known it was you for one second. So what was it that Azul wanted from you so badly that he pretended to be attracted to you for an entire night? You shuffle around under your blankets and flip the pillow you had been sobbing into just a few moments prior trying to convince yourself to go back to sleep, that this revelation (even if it felt more like a train wreck with how loud Ace and Deuce had yelled at you this morning) would be better digested after a night's sleep.

Closed eyes take you back to the dim lights of the ballroom, the perfect way the supposed stranger holds himself, poised yet somehow relaxed. Like he was always meant to be held in your arms, the way he removes his glove before he takes your hand in his and intertwines your fingers as you dance doesn't even strike you as slightly performative.

"Your hands seem cold." He says, plush lips curving into a smile as his thumb runs over your knuckles in time with the shiver his words send through your spine. "May I hold you closer? It might help with that chill you seem to be suffering." And though you say nothing you still move further into his embrace, overwhelmed with the beauty of his affection.

You take a deep, shuddering breath and scream again into your pillow as Grim rolls over next to you mumbling something inaudible to your foggy mind.

This is pure torture. ~~~~ You knew it was him. That was the conclusion Azul had drawn because there was no way, with how deep your affections ran for him, you would have ever allowed someone else to sweep you up into their arms when you had his gift tied so delicately around your throat.

"I was right," he remembers saying that with such loaded intent he almost cringed at the sound of his own voice "it does look quite attractive on you." The spiral conch was a bit out of place in your costume, but you had still thought to wear it. The delicate silver string he had spent so much time agonizing over glittered in the magical lights of the ball. There was no reason in his mind, no reason until approximately 8:45 AM this morning anyway, to consider last night as anything other than a complete success. Now though...

Roses are too Heartslabyul, it's a bit too late to go looking for coral or seashells even if that was something he knew he needed to give to you at some point. Courtship traditions were ingrained in cultures for a reason, and he knew- well until he saw Ace shaking you in Ramshackle's courtyard he thought he had noticed that you were receptive to merfolk ones.

"Looking to make an apology little imp?" He does not startle to Sam's question, though he does make a disgruntled sigh.

"It appears I need to." Because no one on this campus likes to admit they have ever done anything wrong, and Azul does not think he was wrong to approach you but he knows you're mad. He had been waiting for your usual weekend visit to the lounge, anxious but excited, already having worked his way through the misunderstanding in his own mind. To be jealous of himself had never crossed his mind. You had never once asked to leave him as soon as he had asked for your hand, mask or no that was all Azul really wanted, out of that night anyway. But he had been making plans for this one he still wishes to see fulfilled, ones precious enough to swallow a little pride and say the words. And with that in mind... "Do you have peonies? Light pink, almost white." He doesn't really have to ask, the flowers are bought and paid for as almost an afterthought as Azul tries to plan something, even though he knows with each step he takes towards Ramshackle that the instant he sees you it will all fall apart. But he knocks on the door anyway, and tries not to half cry himself when he sees the stressed face that greets him.

"I am told," Azul says carefully, purposefully not forcing himself into your space no matter how much he wants to reacquaint himself with the warmth of your embrace "that this is the way land dwellers apologize for romantic indiscretions." Between partners goes unsaid as you, against the advice of all your friend group and the monster asleep in your bed, let him into your lounge and excuse yourself to find a vase. It's not strange to see him so relaxed, Azul's self confidence was one of the many things that attracted you to him, but it feels strangely homey to see him settled into your couch not even remotely phased by the flowers he holds. And when he looks up to see you, you can watch the breath catch in his chest before his smile shines through. It's almost enough to make you drop the vase, but not even that is enough to shatter his reverie.

"Thank you." The whisper is hoarse from your previous tears, Azul settles the flowers in the vase before pulling the glove free from his hand to allow you to seek reassurance from the coolness of his touch. There are no tears now, but the gentle curl of his hand around your cheek still has a slight tremble.

"I am sorry." He means that, even if he did nothing wrong he can still regret hurting you he decides. "Would you allow me to show you something?" Something he says, like the embrace you share and the kiss he finally gets to savor is a thing he is giving you and not a treasure he has longed to take.

[dailycass-cain]

It's been A LONG TIME, but I feel I am so gonna have to catch up on my thoughts with Birds of Prey. So tonight I'm gonna do a three-parter.

Tonight, part 1 will cover #9-10. So let's start with my thoughts on the two issues.

Starting off, this issue means a bit to me three-fold as #1 it occurred during the character's anniversary month.

#2 Artist Jonathan Case once again draws the character (having gone to town with the character in Batgirls #14).

#3 said GORGEOUS AAPI variant cover by Phillip Tan and Elmer Santos. I remember seeing Tan's Cass at a C2E2 a few years ago and nabbing the print (for myself and a friend). He always drew a nice Cass, and I'm glad AT LAST he drew an official one.

As for the issue itself, it's a nice beginning piece to the new arc as the Birds are basically lost trying to find Babs, along with figuring out their new surroundings.

For the special costume given to Cass this issue. I saw an article via Screenrant going into detail on how edgy this suit gives off.

I agree it does, but also to a degree of how maybe she views herself internally. Though of all the unique designs, I'm quite curious on how the artists throughout this arc corresponded with writer Kelly Thompson on the unique looks to each Bird.

Regardless the "Victorian Era" Birds as I view this issue give a very Gothic style and lend to the twists and turns this issue has.

Which, leads into one of the major moments Cass gets in the issue.

The first is a move hyped on the covers during the first arc: Barda launching Cass via a fastball special.

The moment had me squeeing as we get our first tag team move of the two and I hope there is MOAR from them besides the old classic (which you can't go wrong with).

The Birds rescue Babs, and for the briefest of moments everything "seems" right, but well Thompson remembers something OTHER writers kind of neglect with Cass.

In that, she can tell when someone is not truly themselves and is a walking lie detector.

It's a brief, but if "you're in the know" of the character, yeah Cass would easily see via a few steps of body language and behavior that Babs wasn't really Babs.

It's a character quirk that a lot of writers usually overlook coughs some Batman writers coughs.

Again, Dinah trusts Cass 100% with her insight (as the series has already established) and attacks "Babs" and we get out fight in the issue: the Birds vs. this mangled Bat Babs creature.

This issue also feels like the closest meta Thompson has regarding the whole Babs as Batgirl in the issue too. If you take in the fact that her costume has a rather "classic" look to it. And well...

And that leads me to the only downer of the issue because like the Birds themselves, as the reader we are left clueless as they are as to whom or what is behind all of this.

However, for this "one and done" different look. I'll give it being something totally different and again this series trying something new (akin to what we've gotten in the first arc).

Case's art is still stunning, and though more minimalist (compared to his Batgirls issues) still packs a punch. The costumes and crazy demon she-bat Babs still pops in my head.

I just wish we got more information other than the teases for the issue, but this is an unfolding story and like the Birds I'm here for the ride.

Birds of Prey #10 continues this wacky out-of-this-world adventure this time with a 50s twist that has the same dark edge of the prior issue. So what about the Cass within? Well...

Again, another artist of Batgirls helps with the issue as we get Robbi Rodriguez (who's been drawing A LOT of Cass granting 2016 me a wish) and Gavin Guidry on art duties.

Their art compliments the setting within the issue with this 50s to 60s style with a dark undertone (like the prior issue).

So the issue begins with the newest suits we get a '66 version of Cass. The suit itself uses a bit of what we got with the '66 bat costumes but we get Cass bits to it. The bat symbol. The belt. Oh hey! A domino mask! How Black Bat of this suit!

I do love the look, and for a "66' Batgirl" look for Cass checks all the boxes making it different from Babs' look.

Though I have to admit it's weird that Babs herself looks a lot more like her short-lived Sean Murphy bat ears look than something more to her '66.

We also get A LOT of exposition in the issue of what's going on, why someone is targeting Babs, and HOW this is happening.

And it works for me given well we need that info dump and this does feel like the part where we NEEDED this. Even if it does feel like a slight retread of Megaera from the first arc.

However, with one tiny bat twist…

The big fight for this issue is the Birds vs. a corrupted Barda. And oh dear me she is utterly terrifying. But like I said we get a twist, and it is SOOOOO Cass-characterization perfection.

Instead of a brutal fight between the two new friends we get Cass trying to reason to Barda, knowing the New God can beat this on her own.

The moment between the two is just SOOO Cass. Akin to so many stuff with the character in the past. Thompson just GETS Cassandra Cain as a character.🥺

If there's any really nitpick of this issue I have is this issue felt so quick. Like we get so much info, Possessed-Barda, Cass does Cass thing, and that's it. I kind of wish we got more but I get we're sprinkling the Sin and Vixen stuff for later.

But man, Barda/Cass are just the anchor of this series period. Their friendship is something I always wanted and this series hasn't disappointed. I can't wait when Thompson repays this with Barda coming to Cass's aide or does this.

I KNOW THIS IS COMING.

I just wonder WHEN and if I'll have tissues for this moment when Barda unleashes hell or shows this compassion to free Cass from whatever bind.

But yeah Birds of Prey has been my favorite book of the early half of the month, with Tec always complimenting it for the back half.

[vincentbriggs]

Good sir, I am hoping to pick your brain. I’m making an 18-century (“pirate”) shirt as a gift to my friend. He wants tie closures on the neck and cuffs instead of buttons. Might you have any insight or resources for this? I’ve seen the ties in at least one of the extant shirts I’ve viewed online. I’m still pretty new to the sewing gig and I’d like to minimize inventing metaphorical wheel as much as possible. Thanks in advance!

It's very unusual, but do know of one example! (Not that extant one though)

But first - Link to my most thorough shirt construction blog post. (It's a few years old and I've improved a few little things in my technique since then, and I mean to finish writing a new and better one before the year is over.)

Ok, ties on shirts! I'm assuming this is the extant one you're talking about? Tbh I'd discount this one entirely if you're looking for information on 18th century men's shirts because I don't think it is one.

Besides the attached ties, the sleeves are extremely weird. They're cut off and have no wristbands!! This would make it quite impossible to wear under a coat, the wristbands are an absolutely essential part of an 18th century shirt. I also don't see any reason to believe this is actually 18th century when it could just as easily be 19th century, and considering how short the slit is I think that more likely.

(Lots of auction sellers like to say "late 18th century" about things that are like... yeahh maaaaybe that's plausibly from a very fashion forward guy in the late 1790's but it's much more likely early 19th century. And with court dress they sometimes just straight up date it several decades too early. Look at lots of examples and always question everything, because museums don't always date things correctly either.)

I think I remember seeing someone mention once that it was a 19th century workman's garment of some sort, but I can't remember where, and all we've got to go on are a few pictures and a brief caption from a seller who doesn't know what they're talking about. It does look like it could have been worn over another layer though, and the fabric is very coarse. It could also have been altered at a later date for theatrical costume, which is something the Victorians did to A LOT of 18th century garments.

So just ignore that shirt!

The vast majority of 18th century mens shirts close with 2 or 3 buttons on the collar, but there is a style that uses ribbons. It appears to have been fairly common in the late 17th and early 18th century, and then slowly dwindles as the century goes on. I have a section for it on my shirts pinterest board with 64 examples. Ooh, wait, 65, just found a new one.

The collar is made with little to no overlap and one buttonhole on each end, and a ribbon is threaded through them.

Portrait of Carl Gustaf Tessin, 1728.

Sir Charles Howard, 1738.

I actually made one of these last year!

The collar doesn't sit as well with the ribbon as it does with 2 buttons, but once you put a stock over it it's fine.

Nearly every single depiction of an 18th century shirt I've ever seen (and I've spent a LOT of time looking) uses sleeve links on the wristbands. (Which I have a tutorial for! They're really easy to make!) I do sleeve links on most of my everyday shirts because I like them better than sewn on buttons. When the wristband is this narrow, sewn on buttons don't sit very nicely.

But! If your friend wants ties on the wrist in a historical way, I do know of one single example, and it's this guy!

Giovanni Maria delle Piane, Portrait of a nobleman. No date given, but if I had to guess I'd say 1680's or 90's. Very late 17th century looking fellow.

We can't see his collar closure, but I think it's very possible that he has a matching red ribbon holding that closed.

Personally I wouldn't want to try these, because they look like an absolute nightmare to tie by yourself one handed. But the good news is that you could make just regular wristband that take sleeve links and they'd work for this too, since both just have a buttonhole at each end! I aim for a finished wristband length that's 10-14mm longer than my wrist measurement, with the buttonhole being about 4 or 5mm in from the edge, which gives me enough ease to wear them comfortably with sleeve links, so if you do that then he'll be able to wear them both ways.

[chaifootsteps]

One of the things that frustrates me about Viv's designs is that they don't really tell me anything about the character's motivations or personality.

If I came knowing nothing about Hazbin and you tell me that Cherry Bomb is a punk from the 80's, Sir Pentious an inventor from Victorian England and Alastor a radio host from the 1920's I would have a very hard time believing you.

(((Especially since for some reason, Viv dresses almost all her male characters in Hazbin with some variant of the same suit and bowtie)))

But I think that no - other design frustrates me more than Nifty's. She is supposed to be a Japanese housewife from the fifties. Yet her dress is looks more like a Halloween costume of a fifties girl than something women would actually use at the time.

Her hair is not even accurate, it should be more curly since perms were really big among Japanese women during that time.

However, the fact that she wears a costume of a fifties woman could come in handy if you write a decent backstory.

Let's start by saying that Nifty was not an adult during the fifties, she was actually born during the early sixties into a very conservative and traditional family who told her that the only thing she needed to worry was to marry a decent man, have kids and take care of the house.

Like a 50's woman!

This caused Nifty, a very extroverted and playful child who loved bugs and mud, to have a pretty stressed-out childhood. Every time her mother found her playing in the garden and getting dirty she was beaten. The germo-phobia she developed as a adult was partially because of this, since filled with germs = being harshly punished she always made sure everything was clean.

Eventually when she was 19, her parents arranged a marriage with a businessman and they tied the knot not even a year later.

Her husband was not bad,

He was rather handsome, had a stable job, a big house in Tokyo and could even afford going on vacation once a year.

If only he wasn't the most boring man alive then things probably would have been different.

Whatever he genuinely loved Nifty or not is completely irrelevant when he treated her more like a housemate than an actual wife. They even slept in separate beds and the only time they spend together was during dinnertime and then 30 minutes of TV before going to bed.

NIfty was suffocating in her marriage.

But is not like she could say something. The one time she tried talking to her mom about it, she just told her to "be thankful" to have so much free time since things will change when she has children.

Well, she and her husband hadn't been intimate since their weeding night, so that wasn't happening any time soon.

That stayed the same for a while, until one night, while watching TV with her husband a local boy/band appeared on screen

It was the early 90s and boy bands were allll the rage.

New bands formed every day and this particular one didn't seem too different from the rest. Except that maybe, the Bad Boy of the group captivated a 30 year old Nifty and rocked her world in a way she hadn't experimented before.

At the start everything seemed normal, she started by buying one CD or two, attending meet and greats in local malls and going to their concerts. Nifty didn't want her husband getting involved, so she got a part-time job to cover those extra expenses and not use her husbands money.

Of course almost all the merch she bought was of Bad Boy

Soon, she started having this fantasies, dreams were B.B confused his undying love for her and took her away form her boring husband and into a live of adventure and music. B.B was a real man, rebellious and strong that would be able to keep emotion and passion in her life unlike her husband.

Those dreams helped her to live another day, and maybe it was because of this dependency that Nifty started to believe that those fantasies were real. That she and B.B were a secret couple and the meet and greats they had were really "dates" that they had to do in secret from her husband.

Unfortunately, it was only a matter a time before dear Nifty became one of those fans who you end up seeing in a police lineup and reading in the newspaper the minute she started stalking B.B and talking about him as if he was her boyfriend with whoever may listen.

All went into a breaking point when one day, Nifty just got tired waiting for B.B to take her away from her boring life. Thinking about it she just came to the conclusion that it was her dear old hubby the one that was keeping B.B away from her.

That has to be it.

Her husband must be preventing B.B from fulfilling his promise!

What lies did he told him about her?

Does he want me as his prisioner forever?!

This is not staying like this!

That night, after her husband fell asleep, Nifty woke up, went to the kitchen, grabbed a knife and stabbed her spouse 30 times before ending his life with one clean slit in the throat.

Now that the bore is dead, she and her precious Bad Boy could be together forever! Now he has no excuse to not fulfill his promise! A new life filled with love, excitement and adventure awaits!

But first she needs to clean, everything ended up a disaster.

Maybe it was the excitement she was feeling, or it was too dark to properly read the labels, but mixing cleaning chemicals can actually be extremely dangerous. You may create a very dangerous gas that could potentially kill you.

That morning, the neighbors woke up due a very strong smell and they shouted the minute they found dead bodies of Nifty and her husband. She had her skin partially burned as she had felt face down the mix of cleaning solutions that took her life.

And you and me know, where she ended

Congratulations, Niffty's yours now! You're clearly more qualified to be writing her. Please cherish her.

[rowaelinsdaughter]

JUMP LITTLE BUNNY

ok so, this is are 2 or 3 or 4 requests in one (all by @amara-moonlight ) and i like this and it also help me with my writing slump.

WARNINGS;; ddlg relationship, custome use, nsfw

𐙚 daddy! rowan who wakes her up with breakfast on bed. toast, coffee, juice, jam with butter, croissants, everything for his baby girl.

𐙚 daddy! rowan hires people to dress her, do her make up, everything so she looks pretty for the day, even her nails, hair, eyelashes. and everytime they are done with her he needs to kiss her soft lips lightly so the makeup doesn't ruin.

𐙚 daddy! rowan who sometimes, wants to do her makeup and skin care routine, and has learned from her how to do it.

𐙚 daddy! rowan who spends all day with her buying her everything she looks at, even if she tells him that she doesn’t need it, rowan is buying it. 

𐙚 daddy! rowan who waits for her outside the victorian secret’s shop because she has told him to. meanwhile, she is looking for more outfits for the night, and she is changing the one she is wearing for the white one she has bought. a gift for him. 

𐙚 daddy! rowan who spends the entire evening with a hand on her small back, her long, silk hair tickling her hand, a bow decorating the half up. and during lunch, he has his hand on her leg, sometimes moving his hand up to touch her underwear lightly.

𐙚 daddy! rowan who has bought more bunny costumes for her to wear for the night and also some new panties with a vibrator in it so he can control it with his phone

𐙚 daddy! rowan can't stop kissing her. on the waiting line, while she is looking for clothes or skin care stuff…

𐙚 daddy! rowan who the first thing he does when they are home is give her a bag with the new bunny custom in it.

𐙚 babygirl! reader who hides the new lingerie and changes to the bunny custom because she loves to please him, and otherwise.

𐙚 babygirl! reader who walks downstairs to where rowan is waiting on the sofa at the living room, a glass of alcohol on one hand and the other at the back of the sofa manspreading. 

𐙚 babygirl! reader who gives him a little dance because she is a little bit shy, the lingerie nearly covering her and the bunny and tail makes her look like a little animal.

𐙚 daddy! rowan who drinks all his alcohol in one shot and with a movement of his fingers, tells her to approach him until she is between his legs.

𐙚 daddy! rowan who tells reader to be on her knees and suck him like the good girl she is.

𐙚 babygirl! reader who sucks him off and swallow all while his hand is at the back of her head.

𐙚 babygirl! reader who sits on his lap, his cock buried deep inside her, hitting her g spot.

𐙚 daddy! rowan who tells reader “jump little bunny”

𐙚 babygirl! reader who rides his dick like she's cock drunk

𐙚 daddy! rowan who lays her on the couch the moment she has cum and starts eating her, trying to make her cum again, this time with his tongue

𐙚 daddy! rowan who fucks her again while his baby is crying and begging him to cum again and to fill her

𐙚 daddy! rowan who cums inside

𐙚 daddy! rowan who is the best after sex. he takes her to the bathroom, hot water cleaning her and relaxing her muscles, all of this while he gives her little kisses and tells her how good she is.

𐙚 daddy! rowan who hugs his baby girl because it's the only way she can sleep

all rights reserved to ©rowaelinsdaughter. no tranlations allowed. no copy theme. don not copy my work.

🏷️;; @danikamariewrites @throneofsapphics @thehighladywrites @vanserrasswife @callmeblaire

[danieyells]

Upcoming Units And Stuff

Seems like next chapter will be Obscuary again! The butler units that have previews in the Google Play store will be avaliable--although as far as I know we haven't seen Lyca's.

The Obscuary ghouls will also get sprites for their casual outfits which is cool.

Episode 10 is called "Tea With A Twist Of Murder"(jp: 「惨劇は紅茶と共に」 - "Tragedy With Tea")

But tomorrow is Episode 9 so everything for that is out and I'll touch on the upcoming units and things for that! I even have access to the whole script since they accidentally put out the chats early lmao

Upcoming units:

Halloween Zenji - "Philosophia Morbida" (jp: 「屍者のフィロソフィア」 - "Living Corpse Philosophia")

Unique Skill: "Cloak of the Undead" (jp: 「不死者の仮装」 - "Undead Costume")

Maxed Skill: "Fraternal Affection" (jp: 「弟想い」 - "Thinking Of His Younger Brother")

Halloween Jiro - "Bloody Deviant" (jp: 「血染めの畏怖」 - "Bloodstained Dread")

Unique Skill: "Numb To Fear" (jp: 「麻痺した恐怖心」 - "Numb To Fear")

Maxed Skill: "Crimson Pillow" (jp: 「赤い寝所」 - "Red Bedroom")

Halloween Romeo - "Impassive Undertaker" (jp: 「黒曜の葬送人」 - "Obsidian Undertaker")

Unique Skill: "Elegant Gravekeeping" (jp: 「高貴な墓守」 - "High Class Gravekeeper")

Maxed Skill: "True Victorian" (jp: 「真のヴィクトリアン」 - "True Victorian")

Halloween Kaito - "Eternal Slumber" (jp: 「今宵は静かな屍人形」 - "Tonight, A Dead-Quiet Doll")

Unique Skill: "Play Dead" (jp: 「死んだフリ」 - "Play Dead")

Maxed Skill: "Enthusiastic Escape" (jp: 「一流の逃げ足」 - "First Rate Escape")

Upcoming warding cards:

"Spooked" (jp: 「"ゴースト・サプライズ」 - "Ghost Surprise")

"A Little Too Convincing" (jp: 「本物の迫力」 - "Impressively Real")

"Eagle Eyes" (jp: 「標的を狙う眼光」 - "The Shine In His Eye While Aiming At The Target")

"Clever Hands" (jp: 「器用な手先」 - "Skillful Fingers")

"Unsung Hero" (jp: 「縁の下の力持ち」 - "Unsung Hero")

"Soundless Threat" (jp: 「音も無い威圧」 - "Soundless Intimidation")

"Fist To Fist" (jp: 「ステゴロのタイマン」 - "One-On-One Bare Knuckle Brawl")

Upcoming Cosmic Bonds:

"Varied Judgment" (jp: 「それぞれの裁き」 - "Respective Judgements")

"Kindred Spirits" (jp: 「今夜は二人で人で無し」 - "Tonight They're Both Beasts")

"Lively Even After Death" (jp: 「黄泉の国でも賑やかに」 - "Lively Despite Being In The Land Of The Dead")

"Graveyard Smash" (jp: 「夜は墓場でミックス部隊」 - "The Mixed Group In The Cemetery At Night")

As usual, spending money on gacha games is bad, cards have all rerun so far so don't go crazy spending if you can't get the one you want, take my Japanese translations with a grain of salt, i don't have any way of knowing who the cosmic bonds are or of seeing the units before they're in the game. . .i think that's my usual closing in a nutshell. It's 3am lol OH NO MY DAILIES.

[maryellencarter]

ACNH creator showcase #8, Mia from Reverie! Creator code is MA-0190-3505-4239. Mia has a solidly incredible eye for fashion and design. The Moon Magic series up there clearly has every single piece designed separately, none of the copypasting to different shapes without adjusting waistlines that you see from some prolific designers. Fortunes Foretold is one of the most accurate Victorian pieces of its type I've ever seen -- I can practically hear the fringe of jet beads jingling when it moves, and feel the texture of the sheer lace apron on Sunset Maiden. The hints of pintucked yoke texture on the bodice of Garden Walk... seriously, I can't. The kind of precision it takes to do this sort of art with joycons.

Do you see the hem stripes on Autumn Cheer? The way they follow the wiggles of the skirt edge? That doesn't happen. The game cuts a curve into the lowest pixel line of your skirt on that design. Mia had to draw those stripes *curved*, following the lines of the curve the game was going to cut, in order to make them look like they were appliqued parallel to the hem. I don't think I can possibly express how much I haven't seen that done anywhere else.

October Dreams is on a kimono pattern, but when you walk, the way the skirt moves around your legs gives the illusion that it's a jumpsuit, with the costume bones placed exactly where your legs are under the fabric. Custom jumpsuits don't exist in this game. Mia faked a jumpsuit with the power of design.

People who know Breath of the Wild have probably already gotten the utter genius that's the Revali's Gale design, but for the rest of y'all -- Revali is an anthropomorphic bird. Mia's using the flappy sleeves of the kimono design to create his wings, and the same visual trick as on October Dreams for his fluffy gray-feathered legs. The colors and textures are a perfect match. Just, the sheer artistry on display here!

(Seriously. Using the kimono sleeves for his wings. I'm not gonna be over that one for A While. It's one of those strokes of genius that seems like it should have been perfectly obvious, and yet there it is and you didn't think of it first. They're the right shape and everything!)

[audrey-carr1]

The Heiress and the Lady of the House (part 1)

Author's note: Due to a lack of Hetty x reader fics I decided to fix that. This will more than likely be a series! For future writings, I will take requests as well! Please don't be too upset with how i write because I'm still learning how to write for Hetty. We all know she's a simple yet complex lady. We learn as we go. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

warnings: fem!reader, hettyxreader

It was an accident when I stumbled upon the "Woodstone B&B "hiring ad". As a child visiting my grandmother, I remember riding my bike past the mansion. My grandmother used to take me trick or treating there, and the older woman who lived at the manor always gave the children king-sized candy bars.

After a near-death experience as a teen, I've been able to see ghosts. It began to happen on occasion before it became an everyday thing. I would pretend it wasn’t real and ignore every ghost I encountered. Unless they looked sorely out of place, I couldn't really tell if they weren't living anyway. Ignoring all of them had worked...at least up until I walked into the Woodstone B&B.

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

“So is there a history convention in town or something?” I ask Sam teaches me the basics of the B&B website.

“Um no, why do you ask?” Sam questions nervously

“Because of the people in costume? Do you not see the Viking and Revolutionary officer in front of us?”

Sam gasps, “ Oh my gosh You can see them!?”

“She can see us?!” The two men ask.

“Am I not supposed to?” I asks

Sam quickly takes my hand and leads me into the living room. She has me sit and takes a seat in the spot next to me.

“What I’m about to say is going to seem absolutely insane,”

“Okay?” I say unsure of where Sam is taking this.

“This place is haunted, and everyone you see besides me and Jay are dead,” Sam explains

I didn’t mean to burst into laughter, but I did. How could something so absurd be true?

“My word what is all of this laughter about? Can you plebians be joyous outside of my napping hours,” a voice says

I turn to see a red-headed Victorian woman descend the main staircase. We both lock eyes and I feel as if time has stood still. My heart starts to beat a little faster and are my palms sweating? I could be mistaken but is that blush on the other woman's cheeks? "Can ghosts blush?" I ask myself

The redhead quirks and eyebrow before breaking the silence, “You can see me?”

Suddenly unable to speak I nod still looking into blue eyes.

“Hetty, this is (y/n). She is our new employee,”

“And she can see us? She’s not dead? How can you see us?”

Finally finding my words I reply, “I can see you, I’m not dead, and I’m not sure as to why I can see you but I can,”

“Did young girl fall and hit head like Sam?” The Viking asks

“I don’t remember falling recently,” I reply

“Have you always been able to see ghosts,” Sam turns and asks me.

“It’s a long complicated story, I’d rather not get into,” I say.

The redhead purses her lips not enthused by my answer. Soon I hear whispering of what I assume are the other ghosts.

“It’s okay guys, you can come out,” I say not sure of what could happen next.

Entering the room is a flapper, the Viking, the war officer, a hippie, an oversized Boy Scout, and a man without pants. My mind is filled with questions, but mainly I'm wondering why that man doesn’t have on pants. Before I can question his attire, Sam begins introducing everyone.

“There is one more of the main 8, his name is Sassapis, but we call him Sass. He’s out on a walk with Crash, our occasional headless ghost.”

“I see, well it’s nice to meet you all,” I say to them.

“Well go on tell us about your little cute self,” Alberta says “We want to know everything,”

“Well okay I’ve graduated college with a (insert major) degree, and my grandmother recently passed and left me with more money than I know what to do with. Which means I'm technically a heiress. I’m not sure I want to go into my field of work yet, that probably has something to do with my imposter syndrome. I’m an only child, my parents passed away when I was 19. Oh, I love jazz! I actually play piano and know almost all of the Jazz standards, my favorite pizza is pepperoni, and after reading a dystopian novel series I got into archery but that didn’t last long. Let’s see what else,” As I try to recall information I notice the redhead Victorian woman, Hetty looking at you. I begin to blush as I start my next sentence, “I was crowned queen at my senior prom, I love playing vintage Super Mario Brothers in my spare time, My favorite fish to cook is cod, I have a stuffed teddy bear named Daisy, and my favorite musical of all time is Hamilton,”

Isaac, the revolutionary war officer, scoffs and throws his hands up in exasperation while Hetty pats his shoulder while holding back a smirk.

“What about the juicy stuff, like do you have a significant other and have you ever killed someone?” Alberta asks.

“Oh well," I say a little overwhelmed, "I do not have a significant other, I haven’t even had my first kiss yet. To answer your other question, I have not participated in a murder at least not to my knowledge,”

“Sam you have to keep her! She’s perfect for the job,” Flower says

“Except for the Hamilton thing,” Isaac says off the side.

“Plus she’s incredibly hot,” Trevor says. “Not like Tara Reid hot but she’s almost at your level Sam,”

Everyone rolls their eyes at his comment, “I find it best if you ignore his comments. He’s harmless ” The victorian woman who's the name I've learned is, Hetty, whispers in my ear and I try to ignore the sudden butterflies in my stomach. I don’t need to add attracted to a ghost to my resume.

“Well it seems like everyone is on board with you being here even though you were already hired. Why don’t we go back and get some training done,” Sam says heading back to the front desk.

I go to follow her, but I trip over my untied shoelace. Before I can hit the floor, I find myself caught by a pair of soft hands.

Everyone gasps, and I can tell it wasn’t from the fall.

“Did Hetty just catch a living?”

-end-

A/N: Oh I hope y'all don't hate it! This is the first fanfic I've written in about 11 years, so I'm a little rusty. As I said before this is the first part of this many-part series. I may even add this to AO3. Tell me what you think! Until later!

[plaguedocboi]

I’m being dead serious we need physical in-person cosplay stores I’m sick of having to order everything online. I should be able to go to a store and say “I’m going for an 1830s sea captain vibe” and they go “oh well our Victorian section is over there” and it’s all priced affordably because they know that these are not things we will be wearing every day but also decent enough quality to not look like kids Halloween costumes and I need this yesterday. Who’s with me