#/I initially liked her before knowing she's devil incarnate. I still like her but with a grain of salt this time

[adracat]

Law of Casuality Write-Up (Pt.1?)

Warning!!: the following contains self-indulgence to the likes you’ve never seen before

Law of Causality: The proposition that everything in the universe has a cause and is thus an effect of that cause

Happy Sulemio week! Since it’s Fantasy Day, I decided to finally get cracking on this freeform analysis of my G-Witch series— Law of Causality. I’ve mentioned before this may be my favorite thing I’ve ever written. I was in a manic ADHD-fixation trance while writing this series. If you want the literary version of a triple-layer myth cake, this may be for you. I was considering an essay-style dissection but that’s taking too long. So here are my loose insights into this series as a whole!

Art by my friend Tay, or @TaruhtQarineXiV on Twitter

As Above, So Below: Where it all began. I’ve mentioned in the A/Ns that this was spawned from my deep looks into what the show was taking inspiration from (imo). It’s my little love letter to Sulemio and gwitch, which quickly grew into something more.

Queen in White/King in Red—Beyond the alchemy, I wanted titles that sounded fairytale-esque while also hinting toward another mythos. Hastur or the King in Yellow (Signalis and True Detective enjoyers know that name) The initial King in Yellow appears in Haïta the Shepherd as the benevolent god of shepherds; a domain Hastur shares with Mercury. The short story is about the impermanence of happiness and how it can only be found once you stop seeking it. It’s a theme I ran with for the entirety of LoC, particularly Elnora. The later incarnations of Hastur are malicious eldritch figures. Suletta vs Prospera 😊

On Faerytales: LoC is obsessed with cycles and the rhyming of history. To me, fairytales embody that perfectly. The oral traditions of them are never the exact same, flavored with variations throughout the years. It’s how we got mythology to local folklore to Brothers Grimm to Disney renditions. That’s why I used Eros and Psyche and Sleeping Beauty for Suletta and Miorine (I’m convinced the show does this too but ymmv)

The latter is inspired by the former with Psyche placed under a sleeping torpor Eros breaks. In Sleeping Beauty, the offending curse is a spindle and she’s barricaded by a witch in the form of a dragon. The Hawthorn serves as Mio’s ‘spindle’ as she suffers depression and isolation in the wake of her mother’s vanishing. Prospera (coded as witch Satan) is the dragon. Notrette is the fairies bearing gifts. In a twist, Suletta wakes her with Love as Anteros in the place of Eros. Yes I layered this cake excessively. It’s probably still confusing; I’m sorry.

Tldr; I used Sleeping Beauty alongside Greek myth.

Chaos and Night: Paradise Lost twisted into a toxic witch romance. One of the most insane ideas I’ve had, but I adore it to bits. Both Prospera and Notrette are vested to the teeth with mythology and theology.

Notrette: Besides Thelema’s Nuit/Babalon and cuing her as ‘God’, as a being of creation, opposed to the Devil, I fit so much into her character. She’s Lilith, Pandora, Circe, Ceres, Virgin Mary, the Morrigan, Ariadne, a deconstruction of the Mother Goddess from neopaganism, and the capricious Queen of Elphame from folklore.

Another figure I styled her after is White Boann, the Dagda’s mistress and wife to Nechtan (cognate with Nuada or the silver-hand) which is where you get the hazel tree link. Boann names her son Aengus because the Dagda was her ‘one desire’.

Circling back to Paradise Lost, she also plays the willing Eve who falls to Satan’s temptation in place of Miorine. There’s likely things I’m forgetting; I was so normal plotting her character.

Elnora: What can I say about this glorious wreck that wasn’t in the text? Venus, The red dragon Satan, the Beast from revelation, pagan Horned God, Neptune to Ceres, Theseus and Bacchus to Ariadne, Prometheus to Pandora, every Phosphoros, etc I’d be here all day. She’s coded as Orion the hunter who’s undone by Gaia and also the Teumessian fox to Suletta’s Laelaps. I mentioned she’s the riders of the apocalypse at the end too. White Rider is Suletta but her mom fulfills the rest; ‘Riding’ Vim as War, Riding Belmeria as Famine while wielding the ‘scales’ (Notrette as Libra) Finally, she wears the visage of death to bring Pestilence to the kingdom. I squeezed in the other omens of revelation with symbolism such as the crown of wormwood (Revelation 8:11)

When it comes to her role as Prometheus, I coded both Delling and Mio as birds of Venus (swallow and dove respectfully.) It’s meant to symbolize the ‘eagle’ devouring her was primarily herself all along. She was the architect of her ruin, lampshaded by Notrette from the beginning.

Remember Haïta the Shepherd? In the story, there is a maiden whom embodies the ephemeral nature of happiness. Notrette is Elnora’s transformative destruction into cathartic acceptance/happiness. In Paradise Lost, Satan succeeds at banishing Eve and Adam from the garden but similarly fails when he’s turned into a snake. She’s lucky I was more metaphorical.

I liberally used Revelation 12, the woman and the dragon, as well. Look at me shipping crackships from the Bible. This is mostly self-explanatory, ofc Christ is genderbent and a role shared by Sulemio. Mio’s allergy to iron doubles as a nod to this, since she doesn’t take her father’s kingdom in this universe.

There is more, such as Dionysis/Bacchus being a many-faced god with younger and older versions paralleling the Horned God’s dual aspects and the Dagda’s relationship to Aengus which led to me pitting Suletta as a lighter mirror of Elnora. But I’ll leave it here for now.

Writing this all out has me questioning what I was on, and how I can reproduce it. If you got this far, thank you for humoring my unabahed love for this world. Happy Fantasy Day, Sulemios! ❤️

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

ok, so we have paranoid bella and all other incarnations, but what about Bella who is just a complete sociopath. She completely understands what a vampire is and what she's getting into by wanting to be one. Bella just wants to be immoral and powerful regardless of the consequences. Edward can't read her mind and I imagine Bella has learned social cues and hiding evidence enough to be about at an equal level social standings wise with already weird book Bella. How does the twilight series go?

Anon is referring to Paranoid Bella.

And oh boy, alright, let's do this I suppose.

On Why Bella Doesn't Have to Be the World's Greatest Actress

Of a note, I don't think Edward would even notice that Bella's... odd. Even if she were a fantastic actress (Bella is notably in canon a very poor liar and very easy to read).

This is because he doesn't actually care what Bella is like, he projects onto her, and she smells phenomenal. In other words, he'll still tell himself Bella's a feminine Carlisle Cullen knock off even if she's drowning puppies in a well.

So Bella doesn't need those social cues, Edward genuinely will not notice, and he will not care.

Regardless, you've set the stage with a completely different character and I guess we're going with that.

The Tale of Sociopath Bella

As in canon, Bella immediately notes something is off about the Cullens. Then Edward tries to eat her in Biology. In canon, Bella was terrified in this moment and genuinely thought this boy might kill her. She later tells herself this was irrational and tries to shrug it off, but none the less, she was terrified.

You don't give me too much to go off of with Sociopath Bella in terms of personality traits, but I imagine she still fears for her life in this moment.

I imagine what she does is, after collecting herself, try to get Edward Cullen thrown out of school. Bella is now a sociopath with no empathy towards others, Edward Cullen makes her uncomfortable and appears to actively wish her harm, she's going to do something about this.

I imagine, rather like Amy Dunne from "Gone Girl", she accuses him of sexual assault and goes about fabricating evidence, including harming herself. When asked, others agree that Edward was acting very strange in Biology towards Bella Swan and is generally kind of creepy. Even the administration agrees that something odd appeared to happen, as Edward tried to switch out of his Biology class immediately and then he disappeared without warning for a week after having appeared perfectly healthy the day before.

Something happened in that class, or after it, and that something seems to revolve around Bella Swan.

There's no real evidence, but there's enough suspicion that Edward is granted his wish when he returns: he gets moved into Physics. Edward, of course, is appalled. That girl not only humiliated him and ruined his life by merely existing and smelling delicious, but now she's spreading slanderous lies about him. His family, of course, knows the truth and tries to comfort him (it doesn't really matter, there's no evidence and they'll be gone in a few years anyway, as it is they can leave early if they have to and no harm done) but Edward seethes.

He makes a point of confronting Bella, both to notice if she noticed anything odd (as in canon), and to get revenge for her slander. Unfortunately for Edward, again, there's a little too many witnesses, and Edward looks... unfriendly. Bella files for a restraining order through her father, it's approved in record time.

Edward is now livid.

This woman is the devil.

Well, that there seals Bella's fate. She is a great evil upon this earth, the worst kind of woman, and in a way just as monstrous as the rapist pigs he used to eat. She's destroying his family's reputation in this town, destroying his school life, and he won't stand for it. Carlisle wouldn't approve, but at some point, the demon wins.

Edward gleefully eats Bella in her bedroom. The crime scene is as grotesque and bloody as you can imagine.

Which, of course, also makes him the primary murder suspect (correct in this case, well done Charlie). With the advent of the internet, with cable television, and with Edward now having to disappear before they start trying to get DNA, the Cullens have to go off the grid and exit society.

They now live in a cave, thanks to Edward and Bella.

But That Wasn't What I Wanted!

I get the feeling you wanted to get a little further into canon than that. So, for once, I'll oblige.

Sociopath Bella, for whatever reason, holds her tongue and takes no action when Edward is terrifying as fuck in Biology. He disappears for a week, she finds this very strange, then he returns, clearly interested in her, which is also very strange.

Bella continues to have no sense of self-preservation (for some reason) and still does not take action against Edward. Even when he confesses to wanting to eat her on numerous occasions.

By the time Bella figures out Edward's a vampire, she wants to be one, desperately. Edward doesn't seem... amenable.

But unlike Canon Bella, Sociopath Bella isn't here to please Edward. After the James incident, and she's met the family, I imagine she takes stock of her options and tries to see who is her best mark.

I imagine Bella lands on either Carlisle or Jasper. Carlisle, because he has the best control and has clearly turned several already, and Jasper because he has shown no hesitation on doing what he believes needs to be done regardless of the family.

If she approaches Carlisle, I imagine she points out the peril her life is in. Edward could crush her at any moment, she nearly died thanks to James, her very existence puts his coven in peril and Edward does not seem inclined to let her go either. This is untenable. (I imagine Bella also learns during the course of this conversation about the Volturi Law, as Carlisle undoubtedly explains it in clearer terms than Edward initially did). Edward has condemned her to death, they both know it, and it's best Carlisle turn her sooner rather than later.

Carlisle is deeply uncomfortable with this but doesn't disagree. I imagine he tries to argue for after Bella's graduation, when she can more easily disappear. I imagine she pushes for that summer, plans a hiking accident and forces his hand with "sooner is better than later".

If she goes to Jasper, Bella points out the same thing. This is untenable, she's breaking the law by existing, she must be turned. Jasper fully agrees (and would like not to eat her) but he doesn't have the control to turn her. He would in turn go to Carlisle (leading to the above scenario).

Now, through Alice's visions, Edward would likely find out about all of this and throw the greatest fit the world has ever seen. He rages at Bella, then himself when he realizes she has a bit of a point and he's condemned her to be a vampire, then rages at her again because the Volturi need not ever know and EDWARD WILL LEAVE HER DAMN YOU!

I imagine Bella keeps pushing, which may get her mercy killed by Edward.

In the event that his guilt is all-consuming and he can't even grant her mercy for he is such a wretched beast, Bella turns, and...

I imagine she's a perfect Cullen.

Bella has superb control, to the point of ridiculousness, more the Cullen lifestyle appeals to her beyond just immortality. They have stability, material wealth, and while Bella doesn't care about the familial connection she won't say no to it either.

Being a man eating nomad has no appeal to this Bella.

She'll follow the diet meticulously to a t, do the high school routine perfectly, and ignore Edward's spiral into depression and despair now that he's ruined Bella Swan's life.

[izayoi-hakuyu]

Vanitas no carte: A case study of the vanitas motif?

In this I want to examine how the vanitas motif is used in the manga “Vanitas no carte”. In other words: Is the main character just called Vanitas because it’s a cool name or is the manga embedded within a certain literary/artistic/cultural tradition? And is the connection to that tradition just the name of the main character (spoiler: it isn’t, at least in my option) or is the vanitas motif deeply interwoven within the narrative and its themes (spoiler: it is, at least in my option)?

Talking about spoilers: I have only read up to chapter 40, so this may be updated as I continue reading. On the other hand, there will be spoilers for the chapters up to chapter 40.

Note: I don’t know if something like this has been done before. If it has, I’m very sorry. This is actually my second step into the actual fandom and I’m lacking an overview. Also English is not my native language and it’s hard for me to articulate myself properly. I’m sorry if the topic of the vanitas motif within the manga has been discussed before and I’m sorry for any mistakes I make.

So what is vanitas as a motif?

“Vanitas” is latin for “vanity”. As a theme in literature it addresses the transience of all being.

These works of art associates with the vanitas motif show the futility of pleasure, and the certainty of death. Symbols of wealth and symbols of death are often arranged in a contrasting matter. Similar to “memento mori” (latin for “remember that you [have to] die”. Memento mori is a vanitas symbol itself and they are overlapping), it accentuates the inevitably of death. But instead of the death itself it emphasizes the vanity and transiency of the human life. Motifs connected to vanitas became especially popular during the baroque period due to religious and social upheavals and the experience of the Thirty Years' War (1618-1648) and several plague pandemics and the steady presence of destruction and death. On the other hand, social injustice rose due to the build of expensive castles by absolutist rulers.

The vanitas-motif not only criticizes the worldly glory and pleasure that is transient in nature. But vanitas also accentuated that the humans are powerlessly confronted with their own fate and have no control over their own life. This mindset originated in the traditional Christian belief that earthly pursuits and goods were believed to be transient and worthless. Furthermore, people would be expected to accept their fate that would be inflicted by God. While everything earthly would be eventually in vain, God would be eternal.

The paintings under the term “vanitas still lifes” are the most well-known incarnation of the vanitas motif, but it has been also incorporated as a motif not only in painting, but in poetry (for example in the works of the German baroque poet Andreas Gryphius. And I kid you not, he wrote an ode called “Vanitas! Vanitatum Vanitas!”) and other forms of literature. Within the vanitas motif developed a whole collection of symbols associated with it. These are also presented in this manga.

Vanitas symbols in Vanitas no Carte

Hourglass

The hourglass that takes form in Vanitas’ earring is a classical symbol of vanitas. The flowing sand symbolizes the passing of lifetime and mortality. A symbol of the passing of time and the eventual death is also expressed in the gearwheel ornaments on the “Book of Vanitas”.

Skull

The cover of the first volume shows Vanitas in front of a picture frame made of golden skulls. Skulls are symbols of vanitas and memento mori. They are reminder of death and human transience. One of the skulls on the cover is wearing with a crown, which alludes to the typical form of presentation of the vanitas motif, to juxtapose symbols of death and symbols of wealth and worldly power. This relates to the role of the vampire Queen Faustina, who is both in reign of the vampires but who also seemingly spreads death over them by spreading the curse as Naenia (a name also connected to death, as Naenia was a funeral deity in ancient Rome. The name Faustina on the other hand…is a whole new topic for another day and is most likely referring to Goethe’s Faust, a play that revolves around a scholar who makes a contract with the devil. Actually the act of vampires exposing their real name includes elements of/refers to the Faustian pact motif).

Book

The book itself also a symbol of vanitas and finds its place in the story in form of the…”Book of Vanitas”. Books (among measurement tools and the like) within the vanitas motif represent the emptiness and vanity of earthly knowledge and striving. Subsequently they symbolize the haughtiness that can arise out of thirst for knowledge. From this perspective this symbolism is also tied to Dr. Moreau, who horribly abused Vanitas and other children in experiments to gain scientific knowledge in order to become a vampire himself...and his eventual failure.

Knife

Another part of Vanitas as a character is also connected to the vanitas motif – his knife. The knife stands for the vulnerability of the human life and also functions as a death symbol. The knife is especially charged symbolically as Vanitas attacks Noé on the rooftop, declaring their cooperation has ended at this point. Vanitas is refusing to let another person in his life, refusing to trust someone else but himself. His attack towards Noé with his knife not only is an attempt to make Noé hate him, but also a symbolic “cut” of their ties. But the symbolism doesn’t end here, as Noé is the one who stops the knife with his hand. Showing that he will refuse their ties to be cut. Showing that he will stay at Vanitas side no matter what and that he accepts him and doesn’t want him to be alone. In a second situation where their relationship is on the verge of breaking is the conflict within the catacombs, as Noé refuses to agree with Vanitas idea of fighting back Laurent. Vanitas lashes out, severly insults Noé and tells him to leave, if he doesn’t agree. But Noé stays at his side (and still shows him that he doesn’t agree). One could conclude that Noé’s relationship with Vanitas has an element of transience in it by Vanitas coping mechanism of avoiding and leaving others in case of conflict. And Noé fights this transience of their relationship by offering Vanitas trust, acceptation and in the end stability. During their next conflict, where Noé spits out that he wants to drink Vanitas’ blood, Vanitas leaves. But this time it is Vanitas himself who initiates remediation, who fights his own transience when it comes to social relationships. He returns (which is unlikely to him, as Dante states), his care for Noé are stronger than his desire to be fleeting, not being able to be “caught” by anyone. And sees Noé waiting for him. Again, offering stability.

Mirror

The vanitas motif is not only imbedded in the accessory of Vanitas himself. It also finds its place in the design of Noé, more precisely in the small mirror attached to his tophat. In the context of the vanitas motif, mirrors symbolize vanity and the evanescence of earthly beauty. It also stands for pride and haughtiness, similar to the Greek myth of Narcissus. This actually contrasts Noé’s humble personality.

Flowers

Within the manga Paris is described as the “City of flowers”. While flowers can be also a symbol of love and even immortality, their blooming and withering can also be a symbol of death and fleetingness of beauty, especially in the context of baroque symbolism.

Musical instruments

Musical instruments are a sign of transiency as well, as the sound vanishes into nothing as soon as it is articulated. Music is seen as something unique and unrepeatable, and also as something that is transient in its nature. This becomes evident in Cloé’s character arc, as music is her way to manipulate the world formula. Her life is also highly influenced by the transience of her surroundings, while she herself is forced to remain static.

Carpe diem

Latin for “seize the day”. It’s the name of Jeanne’s weapon. “Carpe diem” is an idiom that was especially popular in the baroque era, but it dates back to the roman poet Horace. Along with “memento mori” and “vanitas”, it emphasized the fleetingness of all life. “Carpe diem” emphasizes the call to make use of the day and the time left and to act, despite the eventual transient nature of all afford. The own mortality should be remembered and therefore the day should be seized. This reflects the main characters Vanitas, Noé and Jeanne, who carry on and refuse to give up, despite the external and internal struggles they face.

The color blue

The color blue takes a significant role within the narratives (Vampire!Vanitas being born under the blue moon). While it is not traditionally connected with vanitas itself, the color blue, together with the color black (which are the two dominating colors within human!Vanitas’ character design), is connected to death and melancholy.

The role of the vanitas motif within the narrative

The vanitas motif is embedded both in the form and in the content of the narrative.

The vanitas motif is embedded within in form of the manga as it has an analytic plot structure. This means the story’s conclusion is already presented in the beginning and the rest of the story unfolds how the eventual conclusion happened. This is the case in “Vanitas no carte” as it presents the conclusion, that Vanitas dies in the end within the first chapter and we are actually reading Noé’s memoirs. Therefore it is a constant reminder, that Vanitas will die and nothing that will happen in the story will change that outcome. Everything that happens in the story appears basically unable to change the end. Every positive development is overshadowed by the fact that it is made clear by the narrative since the very beginning that there will be no happy ending for the main characters. This is especially notable in the scene on the rooftop in volume 3, where Noé declares, how he will stay on Vanitas’ side. This scene is followed by an overlying narration of Noé, who says that memories of the beginning awake memories of the end and expressing his regret. In this positive, powerful scene where Vanitas and Noé make up and the themes of human bonds, free will, acceptation of oneself and others and trust really shine…also embeds the eventual tragic end. The omnipresence of death and its fatality and the transience of life and the knowledge that nothing lasts is the essence vanitas motif and it is presented in the mere structure of the manga.

But its not only the structure where the vanitas motif is woven in, but also the story. This shows especially in the character Vampire!Vanitas and in the mere name itself. As Cloe’s case shows: Vampires are pretty much immortal, if not directly killed. On the other hand, it is the curse of Vampire!Vanitas that endangers vampires: Because it gives them back their mortality and the transience of their existence. A transience not brought by an outside force as in the church, that hunts the vampires – but transience within themselves and their very nature. Vampires fear becoming cursed as much as humans fear death – it can always happen, to everyone. It’s not fast, but slow, seemingly unstoppable “decay”. So it is fitting for someone called “Vanitas” to bring transience and the constant reminder of death and fear upon their whole species.

Another factor of the vanitas motif is the inevitable passing of time and the changes this brings – a theme that is deeply tied to several characters arcs, where death and loss and how to deal with both is a major theme (especially when it comes to Vanitas, Noé, Jeanne, but how they relate to each other thematically is worth an analysis itself and I would digress too much). This is especially notable in Cloé’s arc, who is the only vampire in her family and becomes more and more isolated and alienated from her family, who eventually forgets about her. Cloé’s wish to stop the passing of time (and the underlying wish to be happy with her family, to be accepted for what she is), to fight the transience or rather to fight the vanitas manifests in the time loop. The time is reset and tied into a loop – symbolizing not only her being stuck in the past, but also her refusal of a future, since a future meant nothing but being forgotten for her, who sees no other purpose in herself but to execute the will of her family that has long forgotten her.

The concept of vanitas also includes fatalism and the belief that humans don’t have control over their own lifes. This makes Lord Ruthven , who uses curses to bind other vampires to his will and eliminating their own (as he did/tried to do with Noé, Jeanne and Cloé) a fitting villain from a thematic viewpoint as he impersonates fatalism. Personal choices or free will don’t matter for him as he erases both. This makes him a foil for Vanitas and an antagonist not only in actions but in world view. To Vanitas the freedom of his will and the consciousness of his own choices are extremely important to him. He could never choose in the past and was more seen as tool used by his surroundings than as a person. This emphasis of choices opposes Vanitas to the traditionally fatalistic viewpoint of the vanitas-motif. Not only that, but he uses the Book of Vanitas to actually reverse the curse and fighting the transience of existence that has befallen the vampires.

So Vanitas fights Vampire!Vanitas not only as a person by preventing the curse from killing vampires – but simultaneously he fights the transience and the fatalism: He fights vanitas as a concept itself.

But the narrative doesn’t deem transience not as internally negative. Quite the opposite, the narrative sees transience as an opportunity for change. The change of fixed structures is also an important theme after all. This change of structures is of both negative (as the curse dissembles the true name of the vampire and therefore their entire nature and Jeanne’s struggle and agony with coming in terms with seeing herself changing) and positive qualities. In one of the early chapters Vanitas complains about how the vampires are stuck in the past and therefore refusing his help – it is not only after Vanitas proofs himself that he is at least tolerated. The message of the positive side of change is also within Vanitas’ and Noé’s improving relationship and understanding. Even though Vanitas has a hard time to accept these changes (as he didn’t tell Noé about the state of the Queen, because he thought he wouldn’t believe him and refers to the several past experiences of vampires almost killing him), the positive relationship of both of them even inspires changes in others. Notably Laurent. Who, inspired by seeing a human and a vampire in a positive relationship begins to question his own beliefs and is even on the road to uncover secrets of the church, breaking up entrenched structures as well.

As a conclusion one could say that the manga makes many, many allusions to the vanitas motif and incorporates them structurally, thematically and plot-wise.

Vanitas no Carte is really a case study of vanitas.

[mrawkweird]

Top 5 favorite Male and Female Wrestlers and Why?

Edge: I think he can be responsible for officially getting me back into the world of wrestling full time back in 2004-05. His run towards becoming a champion and how psychotic and obsessed it made him was just really cool to me. The night he cashed in the MITB contract to become WWE Champion was just so special for many reasons. it solidified what that briefcase could mean for years to come, it gave the people someone that could actually topple "Super Cena" and it finally gave Edge the very thing he's burned every single bridge to get. He's the first and for a time only bad guy that ever made me actually root for them. Not to mention he had the most badass theme and entrance on the roster and today that still holds true. It is impossible for anyone to be cooler than Edge to me.

Victoria: She was and always will be not the lady to mess with. Victoria was right up there with Edge for me in the realm of psychotic badasses. Hell, I even hoped they would end up being paired together before Lita came and showed why that spot was hers. I always really enjoyed Victoria's character though and her finisher Widow's Peak is some sick shit. Best believe I had her wrecking everybody in SVR 2009.

The Miz: As far as I'm concerned anyone that can bring themselves to actually dislike The Miz and think he hasn't earned every right to achieve the things he has hasn't been paying attention. WWE themselves are even sleeping if they honestly think they shouldn't let him have a real run with THE title again. He has more than proved countless times that he can carry a show, carry a feud and carry a championship to absolute relevancy. Miz is a main event caliber star and as the music states he is in fact AWESOME. Punk's jealous-ass can kick rocks.

Mickie James: That woman has accomplished so much in the industry and for the industry that she is worthy of every single flower you could give her. And to top it all off she's not even remotely close to done. With everything that she's doing now it should cause the person that picked up that trash bag to cut their hands off out of sheer shame. She should be right up on that pedestal with Trish and Lita and so should Victoria. Not to mention she is finer than any wine you could find in a cellar 'cause GOODT LORDT.

Bray Wyatt: Truly the definition of infinite potential because you know that mind and his creativity will never stop rising. There is no such thing as a glass ceiling no matter how much WWE wanted it to be there. I look forward to seeing what he does next because from swamp cult leader to devil incarnate to demonic Mister Rogers to slasher killer Bray has hit shit out of the park every time. Everyone should be scared and excited for what comes next because that creative monster is loose and as he says; you can't kill it.

Jade Cargill: That woman is a goddamn amazon directly from Themyscira. She has not been in the game long but damn if she doesn't have my utmost attention every time she's on screen. She just captures it like she captures her opponents in the ring because she is as advertised and that is DAT BITCH. I look forward to seeing her rise in the industry and only getting better.

Roman Reigns: If star power was a person it would be Roman Reigns. He is someone that was always capable of having that very thrown around "IT" and it took WWE such a long time to actually let him utilize that to it's fullest potential. He is the "Head Of The Table" and the "Tribal Chief for a reason. People like to bring it up in discussion about who's the better champion for their company; Roman Reigns or Kenny Omega and for me that's always been a very easy question if I had to choose. Nothing at all personal against Omega but to quote Reigns himself there are levels to this. Levels that nobody else is touching right now as THE champion of their respective company. At least not to me. Honestly in the end you have to appreciate that it took WWE such a long time because now it makes his current persona all the more sweeter.

(I'm going to cheat a bit but I have to put these 2 together..) Asuka & Kairi Sane: When I tell you that these 2 became a match made in heaven the moment they turned heel to win those Tag Team Championships you have to believe me. Their initial face run was all a bit questionable. As questionable as the name "Kabuki Warriors" was itself but it was that heel run that made it all gel so perfectly. They were fucking magic together and just played off each other so well. Hell, they did so well they were the main event of TLC against Charlotte and Becky AND they fucking won. I still feel bad about Kairi in that match though. She earned every right to get to enjoy that moment and unfortunately she couldn't. Kabuki Warriors 5 Life.

LA Knight: In my head it's always going to be "E-LI DRAKE" but he is another person that just oozes the vibe that "This is your guy, this is who you should be building your brand around" and if the company he's in doesn't get that same vibe then they better not waste his time. He is honestly what got me back into watching Impact Wrestling with just how good he was every time he was on screen. He was THE reason to watch anything they were doing and I'm not saying that to be insulting; it's just a fact of life. No matter what's about to happen to NXT I hope to see him still be able to get to the level he should be there which is at the very top. His career is something I intend to follow no matter where he goes.

Hikaru Shida: She's all around just a personal favorite of mine. When it comes to her I ain't even gonna try to be unbiased. Her look and her in-ring style just had me hooked from the get go. So much so that when they introduced the AEW Women's Championship for the first time it just seemed destined for her and best believe I was ecstatic when she finally won it. I'm always going to really wish she got more TV time during her reign as champion though. And it may just be me wishful thinking but I feel like she might be up to something on Dark Elevation and the day she finally comes back to the main show I think she's going to bring something new with her.

[prettyricky187]

Devil Incarnate

Request: No- I was just feeling some type of way

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read, liked, reblogged, and commented on Reid To Me? It is very much appreciated. I hope you like this one as well. Requests are open.

Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader  Category: Smut, just straight smut Content Warnings: public sex, oral (male receiving), porn without plot Word Count: 2.2K

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

I swear I was in love with the devil incarnate. She got her entertainment from teasing me and making me flustered at the most inopportune moments. Even now, as we waited for our takeaway to be ready, she was standing in front of me, scrolling on her phone while casually circling her hips against my steadily growing erection.

“Stop moving.” I grunted quietly.

“Why? Is it bothering you?” She grinned up at me. I looked at her with a look that she knew all too well. It was the look that said I knew what she was up to, but refused to partake. She always took it as a challenge.

“Stop,” was all I said but it was only met with a giggle as my name was called.

We had almost made it to the car when she dragged me into the nearby alleyway. She backed me against the wall, pressing herself flush against me. Her lips were like a fucking drug, drawing me in despite the risks involved. The euphoria derived from her kisses was worth whatever consequences would follow. My hands framed her face as I kept her close to me. I could never get enough of her. My whole body felt like it was on fire.

There were always butterflies in my stomach whenever she touched me, but feeling her fingers drag across the skin above my pants sent them into a flurry that would’ve knocked me off my feet had I not been leaning against the wall.

She dropped the bag and made quick work of my belt. She silenced my protests with a harsh kiss when I felt my pants being opened. The sound of the buckle moving around rung out in the quiet air, making it obvious what was happening; as if my pants being mid-thigh wasn’t obvious enough.

“What are you doing? We can’t do this!” I whispered, looking around at all the different ways this poorly thought out plan could go wrong. This was a bad idea.

“Come on Spencer, live a little.” She giggled as she brought her hand to palm at my bulge.

“There are plenty of ways to live that don’t involve us getting arrested for indecent exposure or lewd acts in public!” I couldn’t help the rise in pitch of my voice as the nerves set in.

“The longer you argue with me, the longer you’re out here in your underwear.”

“You’re going to be the death of me.” I mumbled against her lips. I felt her grin when I bucked my hips into her hand, desperate for more friction. I hissed at the way she trailed a finger along the outline of my erection through my underwear.

“What a way to go, am I right?” She teased, dipping her finger under the band. She giggled as my cock bounced out once she pulled my briefs down.

“You’re already so hard. Is that for me?” She asked innocently, like she hadn’t been torturing me for the past 15 minutes and 46 seconds; grinding on my erection in the restaurant then giggling to herself whenever I shifted to try and hide it.

“You already know it is.” I growled, watching her closely. She smiled and began slowly lowering herself to her knees. Any protests I had died on my lips as her intentions became clearer.

“What…what are you doing?”

Logically, I knew where her actions would lead, but I couldn’t believe she would really try this in public. Anyone could walk by at any point and we would be in so much trouble.

“And you say you’re a genius.” She smirked without stopping. Goosebumps rose when her hot breath met the already flushed skin of my hips. “Keep an eye out. I’d hate for us to be interrupted.”

Once she was eye level with my dick, she placed a pert kiss on the tip.

“Oh fuck.” I moaned at the sensation. The sight of her on her knees before me was always something to marvel at. Although it seemed as though I was the one in control, the man towering over the woman, we both knew she held the power in this situation. I would always do anything she asked of me.

“That’s better.” She smirked up at me as she gently placed strategic kisses against my skin. I kept waiting for her to actually dosomething, but she kept avoiding the place where I needed her the most. Each kiss sent shockwaves throughout my body, building the anticipation to unbearable levels.  

“Don’t tease me.”

She grinned, continuing to press kisses along the sides, purposely ignoring my aching tip. She was a fucking tease and I loved it, but I also really hated it. She was truly the devil.

“I would never.” The look that accompanied her lie was sinful. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she relished in it; knowing that she could get me so wound up to the point that I snapped at her. It was a game to her, and I’d dare say it was one of her favorites.

“Then put your fucking mouth on me.” I ordered, pressing my hand on the back of her head. We didn’t have much time; the alley would only be empty for so long. As hot as this was, I really wasn’t keen on actually getting caught.

“So impatient.”

The initial warmth that spread through me as she wrapped her lips around me was always pure bliss. I let out a loud moan as my head hit the brick wall behind me, so distracted that I couldn’t even care about who might walk by and hear us. Her mouth tightened around me and I stifled a low groan, the little that remained of the logical part of my brain desperately trying not to draw any further attention to us.

Fuck she was way too good at this; she always knew how to turn me into putty for her.

“Lick it.”

I watched with rapt attention as she maintained eye contact, sticking her tongue out and sloppily licking at the tip before gliding her mouth along the underside of my dick.

“Fuck,” I hissed, “lick the tip.”

My instruction spurred her on. My abdomen clenched as she took more of me in before swirling her tongue around my tip like it was her favorite flavor ice cream cone. The heat from her tongue followed by the immediate cold from the night air was a conflicting sensation that felt beyond words.

“Please,” I begged, “I need more.” I bucked my hips as I spoke, needing more of her mouth on me. I couldn’t help it; I wanted my dick down her throat. Every time I tried to push further into her mouth, she would pull away with that damned smirk.

After a moment of the cat and mouse game, I finally put my hands on her head to keep her steady as I buried myself inside her mouth. I decidedly ignored her mumbled comment about how bossy I was as I lolled my head back, just losing myself in the sensations of the wet warmth surrounding my cock.

“Oh, sweet Jesus. Fucking…take it!” I bucked my hips forward and down her throat. As ordered, she took each thrust in stride before pulling off of me to breathe. The sight of the string of saliva that connected my tip to her lips was downright filthy, and I brought my thumb down to trace the side of her mouth. I was usually fairly thankful for my eidetic memory, but never more so than now, because it meant that I would never forget how she looked in that moment.

“You taste so good, Spencer.” She moaned, moving her hand up and down my dick. “I missed your cock, especially in my mouth. Been too long since I’ve gotten to suck you off.”

I couldn’t help the moan that escaped me at her words. I always loved her telling me how much she wanted me. Knowing that she wanted me was enough to make me feel proud as a peacock.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Cases took me away from home far too often, but thankfully she understood and never held it against me. I loved her immensely for it. She shook her head and took me back in her mouth, bobbing at a steady pace. It wasn’t until she could feel my thighs tense before she pulled off once again.

“You gonna cum for me Spencer?” She asked, using her hand to jack me off in the absence of her mouth. “You want to cum on my face?”

Oh fuck; my heart stopped as I recalled an image of her face painted in my cum. That seemed like an incredibly appealing option. However, since I didn’t want to make a mess without a way to clean it up, that would have to wait for another day.

“You better put me back in your mouth. You’re not wasting this.”

The noise she made was halfway between a moan and a squeak, but she complied and wrapped her lips around me again. I watched in awe as she sloppily sucked on me. I’m sure some of the noises she made weren’t necessary, but fuck if they weren’t music to my ears. The combination of slurps and moans was enough to bring me even closer to the edge. She knew how to hit on each one of my senses to make it an all-consuming event every time.

“So fucking good. Always make me feel so good.” I knew she picked up on the tension in my voice. “Always look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

She let out a pleased moan and bobbed her head faster. My toes curled in my shoes as sparks shot up my spine as I neared my end.

“Stop.” I put my hands on the sides of head and held her still. “I want to fuck your face.”

The grin she returned told me she'd known exactly what I was going to say before I had even said it. I slowly began thrusting into her mouth, moaning as she kept swirling her tongue around me. I couldn’t help but moan at how slick everything felt as I slid past her lips. I sheathed myself particularly deep and held still for a moment, grunting at the feeling of her contracting around me before pulling back out. I felt my abdomen clench as I realized how wet my balls were, not doubt the spit that dribbled out as I fucked her face.

I stared at her face, unshed tears in her eyes and her wet lips, while I used my hand on myself. She practically whimpered, trying to lean forward to take me back in her mouth, but I held her back with my other hand.

“Don’t be greedy.” I chided, shaking my head.

“This was my idea.” Her eyes didn’t leave my hand and I could see the desire to be in its place. “Please.”

Oh, that breathy plea always did something to me; I could never say no to it.

Without saying anything, I let go of my cock and brought her head back down.

“You really do love my dick, don’t you?” I grunted. She moaned and nodded, swirling her tongue around as she sucked. Fuck, I loved her tongue.

“Suck it.” I moved my hips faster. I could almost imagine I was fucking her. “So good.” Everything was so warm, wet, and tight that I couldn’t take it any longer.

My jaw dropped as my orgasm hit me like freight truck, but I could hardly muster a sound. It felt like every muscle in my body tensed as I tried to get as deep in her throat as I could possibly go; it never felt like enough. My fingers threaded through her hair and pulled her flush against me as I shot my load down her throat. She made no noises of complaint as my hips rutted against her face with the aftershocks. The reality of what we’d just done crashed into me as I looked at the garbage dump mere feet from her.

“You are…evil.” I breathed out, drunkenly eying her in my post-orgasmic haze while she stood up with a salacious grin. “You’re the actual devil.”

“You love me.”

I nodded in agreement because she wasn’t wrong. I watched as she fixed my pants before pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. Such a loving action after such a filthy moment, that I couldn’t help but laugh at the juxtaposition.

“What?” Her smile was so sweet and lovely.

“I can’t believe you just sucked me off in an alleyway.”

I didn’t even want to think about how many risks we had taken just then. The fact that anyone could’ve walked by and seen us, never mind the amount of trouble that I could’ve gotten in, was something that we would never mention again.

“I can’t believe you let me.” She countered almost immediately. We both knew I was powerless to stop her, nor did I want to. “Don’t lie though, I know you enjoyed yourself.”

Well she wasn’t wrong there.

[hanjo-love]

Now I became selfish and I hope the shard is showing Hanji being saved by Kiyomi or something. She go the worst treatment and if Isayama was afraid of the backslash like you said why make it even worse with those parallels with eremika? Is he preparing the Fandom for another levihan moment? I'm tired of EVERYONE surviving but her, Kiyomi's kindness really??? And Onyankopon, while I don't hate him, he survived a plane crash and he doesn't add much yet he is there for being the editor's favorite, Yelena is there after all she did and she adds even less, and the people titanized will revert to human (or at the very least Isayama's favorites will).

Oh anonie, you and me both my friend, you and me both 😔 Beware, a long rant-ish meta is ahead of you lol

I have absolutely no fucking idea why Yams decided to treat Hanjo like shit. You know, after a long time of denying her death, I was starting to accept it, because she was finally free, free of the burden and pain and finally reunited with the people she missed and longed for the most. But then Yams decided to slap us all in the faces saying there's no happy & peaceful afterlife in snk and Hanjo was probs only hallucinating because of her 4 years long depression? Well then, fuck you Yams! What was that even for? Isayama never backed off of showing us the horrors of death in snk, no matter how important the characters and how brutal their deaths really were. Still, he never showed us Hanji's actual death or dead body. He kept it misterious and his vague answers only made it worse. So it's only natural for us to expect a plot twist, right? That's the reason all of us gathered various hints in the manga, anime and his interviews. And lemme tell you, these theories are far more logical, better explained and have less plot holes than the entire final arc smh (yes I'm salty, fight me lol)

I hate to admit it, my inner self is still in denial and fighting, but Hanjo ain't coming back folks. We won't get any background story and the misterious shard will never be explained to us either. Yams had more than enough time to bring Hanjo back, if he truly wanted to. But he didn't. And now with only one chapter and so many unanswered questions left, there's no time for Hange's return. Why would he even do that anyways? Hanjo isn't important to him or to the story anymore. To us she is, always was and always will be ❤️ You know, I'm so fucking desperate to see her again, I'll even take one last panel of Levi remembering her, just like in ch136. Yams just let us see Hanjo one more fucking time 🙏🏻 I need to say my proper goodbyes to my one&only comfort character, who's influenced my life like no one else ever did ❤️

Back to Levihan (I don't think I can answer an ask without my biased and trashy shipper ass butting in lmfao): the question why Yams confirmed Levihan as canon if he didn't intend to bring Hange back and reunite her with Levi to make us him happy again? Well, isn't it obvious? This man is the devil incarnate. THIS MAN HAS NO FUCKING CHILLS lmfao JK y'all before someone declares war on me and my blog haha Well anonie, I feel like Yams really wanted to confirm his initially planned ships as canon, before the manga ends. And he chose the safest way possible. Easy as that. Also he said he is going for a bittersweet ending and what's more tragic (in this literal hell) than separating lovers, ergo Eremika and Levihan.

Now to something else, that's been bothering me for a while now and I'll use your ask anonie to share my thoughts with the world even though nobody asked lmao tbh I'm a bit disappointed with Armin. I love him, I really do. He's my precious cinnamon roll and my fave 104th kiddo. But honestly, I was expecting a bit more of the alleged "hero who will safe humanity". In fact, I'm sure Hanjo only died for Armin to become the new commander. That's it. That was the reason she had to die. Yams glossed over her to make Armin shine. But in fact, Levi's the one who's giving orders ever since Hange has left them. I might me salty, but I really hope the talk with Zeke (and probs Ymir as well, we still might have a chance to see the dialog that made Ymir change her mind) and his titan nuke weren't the only things he did as "humanity's hero" in this final arc. For some people this might me enough, for me it isn't. It wasn't worth Hange's sacrifice. Also what made me really sad was Armin himself glossing over Hanjo when he remembered Erwin Danchou, but not her. Like she didn't just pass away an hour ago to save their pathetic asses. Ugh this is making me hella mad, ngl. Hanjo didn't deserve this treatment! She gave her all for this! To save the alliance, to "pay the price" for her "sins" as the SC commander and to save humanity. I can't deal with how all of them and the fandom apparently forgot about that.

Now on to "Kiyomi's kindness" lol I wasn't really mad at Gabi for saying this as most of the fandom was. I won't go into detail why she isn't really a rationally thinking character (yo guys, you do remember she's a 12 year old kid, right?), but it's a fact that she didn't care for Hange enough to mention her. I mean, why would she? She barely even knew her. Also we don't really know what's gonna happen with Yelena, Kiyomi and her delegation. I don't know if I'm reading too much into it, but I feel like Kiyomi accepted her death with saying "that's not enough atonement for what I did anyway". I mean they don't know if the alliance will win (they probably think they won't) and they're in the middle of literally nowhere. So I feel like Gabi said that because Kiyomi sacrificed herself (and the others on that ship) willingly, for Gabi, Falco and Annie getting a little chance of surviving and helping the alliance. But I get the rage of the fandom. Especially because no one, except for Levi, remembered Hange after her noble sacrifice.

As for Yelena and Onyankopon, there obviously has to be someone from outside of Paradis to survive the rumbling, otherwise it wouldn't make a lot of sense, I guess. I like Onyankopon a hecking lot ❤️ precious boi was literally crying for Hanjo 😭 Yelena on the other hand deserves what she got. Death would be too easy and kind for her tbh. She has to live with the consequences, just like Kiyomi, so I'm actually glad they survived. So my guess is, it's not really about who's Yams' favorite and what these people are contributing to the story, but it's rather about a logical ending and a good conclusion of the story.

I agree with you about the ones who have been titanized. They'll for sure revert back to humans. It's not really Yams' style to kill of an important character like Gabi, whose character development he's been forcing on us for quite a while now lol. I'm pretty positive about an ending with the titan curse being broken and bringing the titanized people back to human beings (probs also the millions of colossal titans?). It's only natural for Yams to end the story with the titan curse being lifted. Otherwise it wouldn't make sense to end his story at this point. But let's not forget what a big ass troll Yams is lmao you never really know what he's up to, so let's prepare for the unimaginable lmfao

I'll probably never forgive Isayama for what he did to Hange, his best written character, how he completely ruined her and threw her away as disposable, just to make other characters "shine". HER DEATH WAS POINTLESS AND IT DID NOT FUCKING CHANGE ANYTHING! That's the harsh truth y'all. Yams betrayed Hanjo and us AND FOR WHAT?

Thanks for the ask anonie and sorry I turned this into my personal rant lmao hope you still enjoy reading my thoughts on this ❤️

[blahkugo]

Congrats for the 1k!! Wdyt ab hawks in an underground scenario?

thanks anon baby!! i love writing for hawks in general and this au was soooooo much fun to explore!! ♡ i honestly went a little crazy with it & added too much rumi in there lmao

                                  -ˋˏ ༻ 光 ༺ ˎˊ-

「TAKAMI KEIGO / HAWKS」

— underground! au (feat. rumi)

— warnings: 18+, smut, drugs / alcohol mention, kind of scumbag hawks

⤏ keigo’s very devious, in the sense that he can be both the star of everyone’s show and a sneaky bastard. he’s a double agent in the truest definition of the word, and it’s no different in an underground au

⤏ ‘heaven’ is the place to get into; no, no, not god’s pearly white gates, but rather the giant underground nightclub teeming with bar hoppers and thrill seekers on a saturday night.

⤏ the highly illegal establishment is run by none other than keigo takami himself, the eccentric club owner that people only know by name

⤏ no one’s ever actually seen keigo at his own club, nobody even knows what he looks like

⤏ so, rumors fly amongst the regular patrons; some say he’s a cartel boss, others a crooked cop

⤏ a choice few believe that he’s the devil himself. and in his jealousy of god’s perfect eden, he crafted his own slice of heaven, where restraint and inhibition are words with absolutely no meaning

⤏ the reality isn’t far off, if we’re being honest

⤏ ‘heaven’ is keigo’s personal playground, a place where he can be anybody he wants to

⤏ typically, that anybody is pulling pretty little whores into the giant vip room, and pumping them chock full of his favorite pills: angel dust

⤏ when his own high kicks in, the fun begins. and at that point, even keigo thinks he may be the devil incarnate

“Tsk, tsk,” Keigo wags a slender finger in front of your face, snatching the pretty little capsule from your hand. 

Quick, pounding percussion still pulses at your ears, though the VIP room is much quieter than the club floor— cooler as well. Without the mass of compressed, sweaty bodies dancing and grinding, you feel a bit over exposed in your two piece set. For a second, you have the urge to cover your midriff, but the angel in front of you sweeps your attention yet again. 

“How do good girls ask for pills?” He’s teasing you, has been since the moment he approached you spouting some nonsense about being the club owner. While you were initially adamant in your disbelief, only agreeing to follow him for his tempting promise of ‘proper drugs,’ the extravagance of the VIP room sways your opinion now. 

Also, the man swims in luxury, seems to be bathed in an ethereal glow that screams money from the tips of his perfectly tousled hair down to the Givenchy trainers on his feet. The richest men always dress in subtleties; you just have to know where to look. 

Your assumptions were confirmed when he ordered top shelf booze. They were absolutely set in stone when Rumi, the Playboy Bunny turned supermodel, settled into the booth next to him and plopped a kiss on his cheek. 

“The sick bastard will really only give it to you if you say pretty please,” the gorgeous woman chuckles, looking every bit as intimidating as she does on the runways. “Like this,” she clasps her hands together— fingernails sporting a fierce, red manicure— and turns towards the smug blonde. “Please Keigo, a pill.” 

It’s unclear whether her tone is sincere, sickly sweet words dripping with mockery and faux praise. Either way, you refuse to be the butt of their jokes. Begging for drugs? Over your dead body. 

Keigo must feel your hesitation, must sense the subtle shift in your body language, because his eyebrows narrow for a fraction of a second before quickly regaining their place far atop his forehead— practiced nonchalance, seemingly perfected over years.  

He hands the pill to Rumi, and then another, pushing his slender fingers into hers without breaking your mutual gaze.

“Oops,” he feigns apology, “looks like I gave two pills to Rumi.” He slants a quick look at the platinum blonde. “You can just take one from her, sweetheart.” 

When you break your glare to peek at the beautiful woman next to him, she’s giggling. The sound is practically silent, a twinkly little thing that barely reaches your ears and doesn’t rumble through her entirety like laughter truly should. 

“Silly me,” she smirks, piercing eyes scanning over you now, “I didn’t realize.” Though you’re sure the night can’t get any stranger, she lets her tongue loll from between supple lips, painted bright red to match her nails. Low and behold, there are two pills, both dangling enticingly on her curved tongue.

“Aw,” Keigo coos, pout brimming with ridicule. Though you attempt to speak up, entirely fed up with this humiliating charade, he doesn’t miss a beat. “She can still have one though, can’t she Rumi?” 

She simply nods, swaying her tongue once more before curling it back into her mouth. He can’t mean— no, he wouldn’t. But the pair simply stares at you, famishment gleaming in their eyes like a pair of ravenous wolves. 

He wants you to kiss her. 

Every one of your nerves stands on end, willing you with a passion to reject his slimy offer. You’re not a Barbie doll for him to play with, to dress and undress and buy off with a bright pink mansion to boot. 

But then again, the pros do vastly outweigh the cons. When’s the next time you’re going to have the chance to kiss a supermodel? And with someone as beautiful as Keigo watching? You take a deep breath, standing up and bracing your arms against the table to lean over. 

And then, you are kissing her. 

Rumi’s lips taste like whiskey sour and a spice that you can’t quite place. She’s quick to take control, cupping your jaw with slender fingers and nipping at your lip. There’s a slight twinge of pain before each swipe of her tongue across your lip, and it’s a miracle that she keeps the pills nestled under her tongue; she kisses you with such passion, such dizzying ferocity, that you feel your head spin. It’s definitely not the alcohol. 

When her lips bite again, more aggressive this time, you part your own in a low, teasing groan. She swings a knee over the table— pushes closer, pulls you further into her. You’re losing your breath, unable to keep up, but she simply continues her onslaught, as though you’ve stolen her last breath and she’s aching to get it back. 

Only when her tongue slinks across the back of your teeth and makes its home between them, does she offer up the pill from under the wet muscle. 

With a parting smile against your mouth, she pulls away. 

“Hope you like that pill as much as you did the kiss,” she speaks, lips, puffy but still perfectly painted, inches from your own. She stays put, watching the strand of drool still connecting the two of you. 

You wish you could say something, anything, to the goddess of a woman, but you’re left in a haze. If it isn’t for the subtle tap against your throat, you’d forget to swallow the pill you worked so diligently for. As she finally recedes, you make a mental note for later: world-renowned supermodel Rumi smells like cinnamon. 

“Bunny got your tongue?” Keigo chuckles, now standing next to your side of the booth, and slithering a lithe hand across your lower back. You’d almost forgotten the smug bastard was there, but one glance his way and you remember where you are: a public space. 

Sure, the VIP lounge is practically empty, save for a few stragglers here and there, but those people are presumably A-listers. And they just watched you make out with a woman all for drugs and the entertainment of a very wealthy man. 

Still, it probably isn’t the worst image they’ve ever seen. 

Rumi gives you another once over, baring sharp canines that seem to sparkle beneath the low, purple lights. Even after your intimate moment, she somehow seems more intimidating— or perhaps, more ravenous. She makes some comment to Keigo about giving you her number, throws a wink your way, and ends the encounter with another quick peck on his cheek. 

Then, with hips swaying seductively to the beat, she makes her descent down the stairs to join the thrall of bodies as her high hits, leaving you and the blonde alone. Chancing a glance his way, you decide that’s not a terrible thing. 

That same pompous smirk is plastered across his face, that same insatiable look in his eyes. His blonde locks remain in a state of perfect dishevelment, and when he runs a hand through it, his jewelry— rings upon rings and a watch that probably costs more than your rent— catches the light, shimmering wildly. 

“We’re going to peak soon.”

It’s all he says, before leading you towards the stairs and down, down, down— straight into Heaven. 

-

Wisps of baby pink, streams of bright blue— cotton candy fills the air and washes the man in front of you in a delectable light. It begs you to take a bite, to do more than press your warm, wanton body against him. 

“How do you feel?” Keigo’s teeth graze the shell of your ear, hot breath tickling the side of your face. With his arms wrapped around your waist, he envelops you fully, allowing you to grind and move as you please. The heat radiating off your bodies could rival the sun. 

“Like I’m flying,” you throw your hands into the air; he grazes them with his own. Every touch sends a cacophony of sparks across your flesh, every murmur of praise a chilling tingle down your spine. And when he strains his hips against yours, it heats you further, all throughout your core. You need him— right here, right now, bathed in candied pinks and sugar-filled blues.  

As though he can hear your thoughts, or perhaps you’ve said them aloud, his slender fingers slither further down your body. Down, down, down— dashing under your tight skirt to rub across your soaked slit. When you cry out, a symphony of desire, he simply presses harder, rubs faster. 

Just as you’re about to see stars, to grab at the spun sugar surrounding you and take an overwhelming chomp, he removes his magic fingers. You’re aware you’re crying out, feel as though the entire world’s been ripped away from you, but he simply shushes you with a slick digit against your lips.

“Let’s take this back upstairs, yeah?” The devil pokes at your side. 

You’re already being whisked away, deeper into paradise. 

                          ᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ 光 ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

[sylverstorms]

Azula x Mai

The moonlight was too bright.

Mai felt bombarded by its glow as it reflected off the marble steps of the beach house to shoot directly into her brain. A curse was hissed under her breath. Ty Lee, a few ways ahead of her, giggled. It was a wonder how she could skip up the stairs so easily considering how much she’d drank, probably the amount Zuko, Azula and Mai had consumed combined.

To be fair, she was more used to drinking than the rest of them. Or rather, she was the only one accustomed.

Zuko was nearly out after the first quarter of his gin bottle, a fact that Azula –of course— had to point out in that typical, demeaning way of hers. It quickly led to an all-out war between the two siblings about who would drink who under the table. For the record, Mai did point out how bad of an idea it was, though she knew them better than to expect either to back down.

Ty Lee put her money on Azula winning. Mai had to be a good girlfriend and support Zuko. It was no surprise to anyone when, thirty minutes down the line, he collapsed face-first into the sand. The princess erupted into a fit of laughter about how pathetic he was.

Mai had moved to help him, but Zuko, red-faced from both alcohol, anger and the shame of loss, brushed her off and stomped his way up to the beach house. Azula, knowing she wasn’t as unaffected as she pretended to be, made up an excuse about not missing her beauty sleep and bid them goodnight. Mai’s sharp eyes didn’t miss the uncharacteristically ungraceful way she climbed the steps, nearly tripping twice.

That left her alone with Ty Lee over their own bottles. Apologies were said and accepted for the hurtful things spoken earlier that night, around that same fire. Mai didn’t intend to stay out so late, yet her friend’s stories swept her along. By the time she suggested they get to bed, as well, she couldn’t really walk in a straight line.

It was a small miracle she made it to Li and Lo’s house on her own. Mai would add it to her small list of achievements, if she could also locate her shared room with Zuko.

One hand glued onto the corridor’s wall for support, she managed to get to a familiar point. Two adjacent doors glared at her. Past muddled thoughts, Mai could recollect Azula picking the left one that morning. She turned the handle to her right and stumbled inside.

Zuko, bathed in shadows, had his back turned to her.

Mai sluggishly shrugged off her top and stepped out of her sandals. She tried –tried being the key word— to slide as softly into bed as possible. The body beside her stirred under the cocoon of covers but didn’t wake. If she were any soberer, she would surely start to stress about sharing a bed with the prince for the first time, or what the proper distance to keep was. Right then, however, she was drunk and growing colder by the minute.

There was no logical explanation as to why it was that chilly in the heart of summer, in Ember Island.

Mai bit the corner of her lip and decided— screw it.

She slid closer, to the part of the large bed that was wonderfully warm. Then she got greedy and pressed herself fully against the firebender. And— oh, he was warm as a furnace. Mai didn’t remember Zuko ever being that hot, before, but it was wonderful.

His hair felt longer, too, under her cheek, yet all she could focus on was the sensation of holding flames in her arms. Other things, little things, registered scarcely in the back of her brain. He didn’t smell like usual, of smoke and fresh spices. Instead, a mix of sandalwood and fire lilies tickled Mai’s nose. She couldn’t help but nuzzle deeper into the source and inhale.

Was Zuko’s skin always this soft to the touch?

Mai didn’t know how she’d never noticed that or taken advantage of it. Kisses were one thing and she greatly appreciated the hardness of his muscles, in the few times things between them had gotten more heated than that. But this? This was just perfect.

Or perhaps the drink was doing more to her than just making her dizzy.

The theory was proven correct when her company shifted against her until she gave them room to roll onto their back. The brush of silky hair against her neck ignited something in her. The fingers that came to rest on the bare skin of her side felt like a brand.

Inhibitions lowered, Mai didn’t hesitate to crash their lips together.

The kiss was as burning as the rest of her lover. Lips too soft that tasted like cotton candy and gin parted all too easily for her. Mai wove her hand into raven hair and tugged. A low groan escaped Zuko that didn’t much sound like him. The nails that dug possessively into her flesh and the tongue that slipped into her mouth were unlike him, too.

If anything, they reminded Mai of Azula.

That was a thought she didn’t want to take into bed with her boyfriend… but it made her grow more aroused regardless. Right and wrong –or wrong and so very wrong— didn’t seem to matter to her body. She’d always been attracted to edges, blades, deadly things. She didn’t know of any deadlier than Azula.

Mai grew frustrated into the kiss. It was too good and that made it not enough and she wasn’t in any state to control her urges. She pressed her thighs together to relieve the ache building there, but that only made it worse. Her head was a mess. Her body was a mess.

Agni, I need—

She was wet, wetter than she’d ever imagined she could be, and she needed Zuko to make it go away so she wouldn’t go back to thinking about Azula again. Anything but that.

Just a little, she told herself as she slid a leg over her lover’s and pressed herself down on their thigh. ‘Just a little’, but it was too satisfying when that little spot was hit just right, when strong hands gripped at her hips and urged her to continue at her leisure.

Mai bit her lower lip to mute the moans threatening to spill from her lips into little gasps. It was like having sex with fire. Flames were everywhere, in her mind, under her parted legs, licking across her skin, driving her insane.  

It wasn’t long before they consumed her.

Mai stilled and shook. The body beneath her followed suit. A moment suspended in time, until she collapsed into the firebender’s neck, exhausted and limp.

She drifted to sleep surrounded by the scent of fire lilies.

…

 Noise. Too much noise.

Thankfully, it was muffled outside her door. Mai held tighter onto the lulling warmth against her. Ty Lee’s voice echoed in her ears. Then, Zuko’s. Something in that sound started to spring the gears of her mind into motion. Zuko’s…?

“Agni, shut up…” Azula’s voice grumbled, hoarse from the previous night’s drinking.

Only, it shouldn’t be Azula’s voice coming by Mai’s ear.

“What—” she began to ask.

Never got around to finishing that sentence. The princess’ eyes snapped open and zeroed in on her, while Mai sprang up. The flare of pain across her head at the sudden movement was nothing compared to the sheer shock of the realization…

Last night I—

What did I do…?

She remembered fire. She remembered moving in the dark against someone. Worst of all, she remembered loving it.

Mai brought a shaky hand up to her mouth, while Zuko’s complaining from outside intensified. Azula was an expressionless statue, not moving, not blinking, not even breathing. She was the first to break the standstill when she abruptly stood and went to gather fresh clothes from her bag.

Like nothing was out of the ordinary.

“Azula—” Mai usually prided herself for being the level-headed one. Not this time. This time, she was panicking.

“Hm?” A non-committal noise.

“Last night…” she couldn’t even bring herself to ask. And what could she say, really? ‘Did I really cheat on your brother with you’? ‘Did I dry-hump you like a sl—

“Did something happen?” Azula turned to her with the world’s most impassive face.

Mai wanted to yell at her. To slap her across her gorgeous fucking face. The asshole did not get to do that with her, act like nothing happened, like they could go back to their lives as they were before.

“Not the first time we had a sleepover, Mai.” she said as she opened a drawer to take a bathtowel in hand. Her knuckles were white around the fabric.

The elder noble opened her mouth to speak.

Zuko’s voice cut her off.

“And where the hell is my girlfriend?!”

Azula disappeared into the shower. Mai dropped her face into her hands and wished for all of it to be a bad dream.

 …

 But it wasn’t a dream. It was a real-life nightmare.

Mai couldn’t even look at Zuko in the eyes. Ever since he was a child, Azula had tainted everything for him. She took and took from him. To think that she would even ruin his relationship, that she would even take her away…

The thought was unbearable.

It was too easy to be angry at Azula. For being in what was supposed to be Zuko’s fucking room, for not stopping her, for taking it all so in stride. But. It wasn’t her fault, was it? She’d drank more than Mai and she wasn’t the one to press up to her and initiate their kisses. If it had been another trick to humiliate him, Azula would have gloated already.

In a sense, Mai would have accepted that easier than her utter silence.

“Can you just tell me what’s wrong already?” Zuko asked, coming closer to her. “Did I do something last night when I wasn’t in my right mind?” His eyes were wide. He sounded desperate.

It wasn’t him who should be torn up. “…Nothing’s wrong, Zuko.” she lied in her dismissive monotone.

“How can you say that?! You flinch every time I touch you!” he snapped. His hand wrapped around her wrist to make the point.

Mai hated how lukewarm he felt compared to her flame.

She hated her.

How could Azula ruin this for her? 

It took Mai years off her childhood to convince herself her crush was on Zuko and not his mean little sister. She didn’t like anything about the fire princess other than her stupid good looks. She was the devil incarnate. Selfish, arrogant, inconsiderate, powerful, deadly, gorgeous— Mai was glad to leave for Omashu, to leave her behind. She thought the years would reduce those feelings to an awful memory. And they had.

But they hadn’t wiped them completely. And one taste of the forbidden fruit was all it took—

Mai pulled away from Zuko, something in her chest cracking at the hurt in those amber eyes. “I’m sorry. I just need some time to myself.”

She left without looking back.

Azula was in her room, packing her things, when Mai barged in.

“Ever heard of knocking?” A slender eyebrow raised. The princess had her hair down again and it shouldn’t look so damn attractive on her.

Mai walked over to her, her darkest glare on. “We need to talk.”

“What about?” Such composure. She so badly wanted to mess it up with a knife to her pale throat.

“Oh, I don’t know. How about the thing after you and Zuko left the bonfire, yesterday?” Mai deliberately raised her voice.

Azula flashed into her personal space in an instant, eyes yellow like a dragon’s and ten times as dangerous. “Keep your voice down.” she ordered in a low hiss.

Ty Lee was still in the house. Not to mention Lo and Li.

“So, let’s talk about yesterday, Mai.” Azula said. “I beat my idiot brother –again. He dashed back here before he could embarrass himself further. But, of course, he couldn’t tell left from right, let alone which room was his.” she explained. “I opened the door to see him sprawled out in what I’d declared was my bed, so I grabbed my things and came here.”

Mai was dreading the next part.

“Ty Lee took the couch she’d wanted since we arrived. You took the right turn –bravo— albeit with the wrong company. We slept. That’s it. Time to go home now and focus on the actually important things.”

Lying. Always lying about everything. Are you seriously going to lie about this, too?

A part of Mai cracked. Her face didn’t show it, but she knew Azula could tell, just like she could tell the dark things the princess hid behind her mask of perfection.

“And to think I believed you when you promised to never lie to me.” A parting promise made at the docks before a years’ long separation.

Azula’s jaw clenched. “Just. Forget it.” There was a flash on emotion in her yellow eyes, like a shooting star.

“I wish I could.”

“Why, was I that good or is Zuzu just that bad?” Her tone. That smirk.

Mai’s hand moved before she knew what she was doing.

Azula’s head snapped to the side from the force of the slap.

Mai gulped the bile down. Boiling anger was instantly replaced by guilt. The princess’ jaw was already turning red, stark against the paleness of her skin, where she struck her. She deserved it. But…

But.

“I-I’m sorry, Az—”

Azula grabbed her hand before Mai could trace her thumb over the mark. Nails bit into her skin and the temperature rose to near-blistering levels. She half expected the princess to burn her for daring to hit her. She half feared it. But Azula kept the flame contained in her own body, there only as a warning.

“This time, for the sake of the help you’ve provided me, you get a free pass. Next time you try anything like this, I will burn you alive.” And who she saw in her eyes then, Mai did not recognise as her friend, nor her past crush. “Never speak of yesterday again.”

Her hand was released, the skin uncomfortably hot but not burnt.

She made it easy, at least.

She made it easy for Mai to forget any past attraction to her.

To despise the new her.

Ko-Fi

[sweetrupturedlight]

This week on Sen Çal Kapımı

Serkan's inability to articulate his feelings for Eda has him literally man down, while Eda contemplates their kinda, sorta, maybe mutual feelings and her future. Other stuff happens, but come on, with this episode, Edser takes centre stage as the ship sets sail on the high seas.

Before we jump right into it, last week in this post, I bulleted the things all of us expected was coming. 

Let’s take one moment to note the glorious ways in which all of these things unfolded?

Nursing back to health

Pining

Severe angst

Breaking point

Dear writers of this show, we appreciate you. We are truly blessed.

Now, on to this week. The episode picks up where we left off, with Selin giving Serkan 2 days to decide whether she drops Ferit like a hot potato on the eve of their wedding. Let’s be clear, she wants to dump a man she is supposed to marry in two days to resume a logical and clinical relationship? Is Selin even in love with Serkan? It doesn’t seem like he treated her very well – but then again, it seems their relationship had a very logical genesis – no sweeping romantic gestures, no sweet words, no compliments it would seem! etc. So objectively I’m not sure what exactly makes that prospect better than the one with Ferit – who clearly does love and care for her. But I digress. 

Essentially, this is how it plays out:

Selin: “Let me know in max 2 days if you want to be with me, k.”

Serkan: ...

Eda: Simply exists.

Serkan: Stares directly at Selin as he deliberately grasps Eda’s hand and holds on for dear life.

Now, they say actions speak louder than words... so how is Selin still not clear on the fact that Serkan not rushing to end her marriage means he’s not interested???

Anyhoo, Serkan and Eda spend most of the episode circling around the same.

Did you say yes to Selin?

What is your opinion on my situation with Selin?

Would you stay?

I can’t stay because… reasons

If either one of these to love-struck puppies took a second to reflect, they would realise that they actually have the answers already. Eda in fact, does consider for a minute that Serkan might actually have feelings for her. Serkan however, is convinced Eda cannot wait to get out of his life - which makes his bold move at the end of the episode a great moment for his own growth as a character. He was operating on his feelings and taking an emotional risk, having no idea how she actually felt. Yes, he had the note she left, but up until 20 minutes earlier, he was still fighting Engin on the notion that she could genuinely have feelings for him.

Speaking on Engin, writers, I have faith that we will see Engin mercilessly tease Serkan in the next episode about his heart eyes and his newfound familiarity with the language of love. This is likely going to bring great comedic gold. Its also not lost on me that Engin can so easily see the love between Serkan and Eda, but is totally clueless about his own romantic entanglements. To be honest, I’m not invested in this romance, so whomever he ends up with - or doesn’t - is fine by me.

Listen, I’m high key bursting at the fact that Eda and Serkan both already see the other in their bed(s). Them facing “each other” with longing was one of the smaller moments of the episode, but one of my favourites. And because this show is so good at parallels, I’m putting it out there that we will get a scene of them sharing a bed without Serkan needing to turn his back to her, but also without Serkan ruining the mood once daybreak arrives. Eda is a snuggler and she loves to sleep. I’m looking forward to bedroom shenanigans. Also, can Eda (and Engin) find the pictures of them he’s clearly carrying around in his wallet at this point? Please and thank you.

SIDE NOTE: according to Laila, Serkan has a conference in London “next week” which has been reserved for two people. Since I’m going out on a limb and saying Serkan won’t be travelling with Selin, will Eda accompany him to the UK? One can only hope for a honeymoon romantic getaway business trip.

Adore the “don’t leave” parallels that the show has been dropping like golden nuggets for the past few weeks. Serkan has spent multiple episodes in a struggle with himself. If Eda wants to leave, he insists its not his style to ask her to stay. But by episodes end he is so frenzied at the thought of his life without her, he’s ready and willing to say it m u l t i p l e times. We love a glow up.

Things I loved about this episode:

The handhold 5 seconds in & Eda’s impulsive kiss on his cheek.

The super cheesy let’s-randomly-turn-on-the-radio-and-awkwardly-listen-to-the-exact-song-describing-our entire-love-story. The way I was lapping it up with shovel. Also, Başak Gümülcinelioğlu’s (aka the actress playing Piril) song Sen Çal Kapımı is beautiful. All the fanvids, all the time please oh talented vidders.

Serkan’s meltdown at the office the minute he realised she’s about to leave. Hilarious. I truly enjoy seeing him a little off kilter and a lot out of control. Just looking at how his employees have relaxed since he’s been more relaxed - due to Eda’s influence - is a great subtle storytelling mechanism as well.

Immensely enjoyed Nurse Eda - especially her traditional approach to checking temperatures. LOL. Just a comment that despite Eda believing Serkan and Selin are most likely a thing, she refuses to leave his side in deference to Selin. I totally loved seeing her stake her claim. And judging by the never-you-mind, irritated way with which Serkan basically told Selin to move along, Serkan doesn’t want people around when he’s sick - but he certainly wants Eda.

Serkan going from unable to communicate to “you’re constantly in my head, in my every thought! You’ve taken over my brain! You’ve taken over my entire life!” #FlingsSelfIntoTheSun

THE KISS. Beautiful cinematography, beautiful direction, gorgeous cast, amazing script. Loved everything about it.

Things that broke/confused me

Serkan being a complete dolt and instead of enjoying the woman he loves cuddled up beside him, he takes the time to reiterate that he doesn’t remember their conversation from the night before. SMH. Eda was about to risk it all one last time, and Serkan’s poorly timed dose of realness is the final straw.

The tears in his eyes when she left the office. He was still fighting being vulnerable, even after Eda basically gave him the roadmap with an x for how to achieve success. Thankfully, by episodes end his own desperation at potentially losing her outweighed his “logic” and self preservation. Eda is teaching Serkan that its okay to need other people and that he doesn’t have to shoulder everything alone. #MyEndlessFloodOfTears

Aydan being unable to see how very much Serkan loves Eda and her - bordering on delusional at this point - push for Serkan to marry a woman who inspires no passion, no interest, no life, no spark in him! I understood it initially. But now it’s just comical. Seyfi is clearly team #Edser. I know the Bolat’s have a history of trauma. But pushing Serkan into a loveless marriage, while hurting Ferit and potentially Eda (and Serkan himself) seems absurd to me.

Ayfer’s reaction to the contract was OOT IMO. The show has been quite light handed with drama and this was the first time I thought the hysterics was over done. I understand that it was a shock, I understand that feelings of betrayal and hurt are natural. But a moment of reflection - as well as allowing Eda to explain - would have easily highlighted what Ayfer already knows - that there is a lot more happening between Eda and Serkan than a mere contract. Furthermore, this “Serkan Bolat is the devil incarnate here to take advantage of our poor Eda” is ridiculous. Serkan is a good person - logical and sometimes aloof - but he isn’t devious. If anything, Ayfer getting to know him during their terrarium creating afternoon left her with a good impression of who he is. So unless there are missing scenes somewhere, her suddenly being anti-Serkan feels like a necessity to serve the upcoming plot, as opposed to an organic happenstance. Not my favourite development. This includes her orchestrating Eda’s scholarship in Italy. Feels out of character. But let’s see how it all plays out.

Things I know is coming:

From the fragman, Serkan names a star or something after her #squee

Selin finally getting it

Aydan not getting it

Seyfi being over the moon - along with Melo no doubt

D R A M A about parents and death and cover-ups but I’m ignoring that for now

And most importantly:

Dating

Kissing

Hugging

Giggles

#FlingsSelfIntoTheEverLovingSun #NotPrepared

[actress4him]

Whumptober 2020 - Day 8

Today is our first strictly emotional whump day...only a couple of brief, non-graphic mentions of an already existing injury. Also, today’s fic is really freakin’ sad. Like, I almost made myself cry. So, sorry ahead of time.

Read on AO3

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Day 8 - Abandoned/Isolation

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Warnings: fantastic racism, not really suicide ideation but kinda?, abandonment, solitary confinement, disassociation, imprisonment, foster home mention, self-loathing, restraints, unflattering depiction of everyone except Keith and sorta Shiro, ambiguous ending

“I’m...part Galra.”

“I...I’m sorry, what?”

Keith ducked his head and cut his eyes to the side to avoid looking at Allura. “The knife I got from my mom. It’s...something that every Blade carries. And the only way to activate one is to...have Galra blood.”

“And you activated yours?”

His eyes darted up to Coran’s unreadable expression and back down again. “Yes.”

“Wait, but that makes no sense,” Lance exclaimed, and Keith could imagine his hands flailing as he spoke. “He’s human. He’s obviously human.”

Hunk hummed in agreement. “Yeah, if he was part Galra you’d think there’d be some sign of it. Something...purple, or something, I dunno.”

“Or a little more height,” Lance snorted.

Shiro’s hand dropped onto his uninjured shoulder, and he jumped. “Well, we don’t know for sure how much of him is actually Galra. Obviously he ended up with mostly human genes, at least when it comes to appearance.”

“Ah, but other than appearance...that actually explains so much about Mullet. Hot-headed, reckless, socially inept -”

Normally Keith would have snapped back by then, but he just drew his shoulders farther up toward his ears, arms crossed tightly across his chest as if he could keep himself from falling apart. It was Shiro who broke in for him.

“Lance, that’s enou-”

“When were you planning on telling us?”

The question took him so much by surprise that he jerked his head up, regretting it as soon as he saw Allura’s stony glare. “W-what?”

Sparks seemed to shoot from her impossibly blue eyes. “When were you planning on telling us your heritage, before this accidental reveal today? Sometime after you betrayed us, I suppose?”

Keith couldn’t seem to catch his breath. “No, n-...I didn’t know, I swear. This is...this is as much of a surprise to me as it is to all of you.” He knew the news wouldn’t be taken well, especially by Allura, though Coran, Shiro, and Pidge were next on the list. But he never expected to be accused of hiding it from them, of planning to betray Voltron. “I’m not...I would never…”

“Never what, turn on Voltron? If you’re really Galra, which I assume you wouldn’t lie about that, then it’s in your very nature.”

Shiro gave his shoulder a squeeze and spoke up. “Princess, as the person here who has known Keith the longest, I can assure you that what he says is true. He didn’t know until today.”

“And how would you know that?” she shot back. “How do you know that he hasn’t just been hiding it from you, like he has from all of us?”

“Because I know him.” Shiro waved a hand to include the others in the room. “We all know him! Right? We’ve been working alongside him all these months...he’s helped save so many people, including each of us! Regardless of whether he knew or not - which I still believe he didn’t - he’s a good person. Being part Galra doesn’t define him.” It was an echo of the words he had told Keith on the way back to the Castle. Keith still wasn’t sure that he believed them anymore than the rest of the room’s occupants.

Hunk was the first to reply, hesitantly. “I...I don’t know, man. I mean, I kinda really...don’t know him all that well? I’d like to say I do, but…”

“But Mullet never really lets anybody get to know him.” Lance sounded much less hesitant, and more and more like he was siding with Allura. “He’s always so standoffish. I thought it was just because he was a jerk, but maybe it was because he was keeping a secret. Or because he was plotting to kill us all.”

Shiro gaped at him, flabbergasted. “Lance! You don’t really think that, do you?”

But he did. They all did, to some extent or another, Keith could see it. They all thought he was some kind of monster, and...maybe he was.

Lance continued to defend his opinion, while Hunk waved his hands in front of his face and refused to give more of one. It was obvious from Shiro’s tone that he was growing not only frustrated, but desperate. Finally, he turned to the youngest member of the team, the only one who had yet to speak.

“Pidge?”

A moment passed before she lifted her head, and Keith’s heart skipped a beat when those tear-filled but furious eyes met his. She opened her mouth and sucked in an audible breath before throwing her words like daggers. “Do you know where my family is?”

His stomach plummeted to the floor. “No, Pidge, I...of course I don’t, I -” He couldn’t say anymore. It didn’t matter what he said, anyway, no one was going to listen to him. Pidge turned her eyes back to the floor, fists clenched by her sides, as the rest of the room devolved into chaos.

Shiro and Allura were shouting back and forth at each other, Hunk was trying to comfort Pidge, and Lance was shooting glares at him like he was the devil incarnate. Keith stood in the middle of it all with his hands fisted in his hair, wishing he could disappear. Wishing he could go back to that morning and never go to the base, wishing he could go back all the way to the beginning and never be born. It’d be better that way, right? A freak of nature like he was shouldn’t exist. If he’d never been born, then Voltron would have found another red paladin, one who wasn’t Galra, and they could carry on saving the universe without having to deal with this mess.

“Enough!” Allura’s voice rang out over everyone else. “Perhaps we cannot prove his true motives, but one thing is certain, he cannot be trusted. Coran, Lance, escort him downstairs to a cell. We will decide what to do with him at a later date.”

Keith went numb. Everything that happened from that moment on felt like he was watching a movie on a screen. Shiro fairly exploded, protesting Allura’s decision, but the princess pinned him to the nearest console and sneered something about him daring to usurp her authority. Cold, unfeeling hands latched onto both his arms, tugging him harshly toward the door. He walked in a daze.

The next thing he knew, he was standing in the middle of a spherical, blue-tinted forcefield, with no knowledge of how he had gotten there. Down a long walkway, Coran and Lance were disappearing into an elevator. The doors slammed shut on their backs. He was completely alone.

Alone, like he had been after his dad died when he was six. Alone, like he had been in nearly every foster home that followed. Alone, like when Shiro went to Kerberos and subsequently vanished. He thought that by now he’d be used to being alone. But he wasn’t. Not anymore. Not when he had spent the last few months surrounded by people, people whom he didn’t always get along with, but whom he had finally let himself begin to call friends. Not when he had thought he was finally figuring out what it felt like to belong somewhere.

Sinking to the floor, he bit back a hysterical laugh. He should have known better. Nothing good ever lasted in his life. No one but Shiro ever really cared about him, so why had he let himself think that these people did? Maybe Lance was right. Maybe it was all because he had been Galra all along. He had always been the weird kid, the outsider, the foster that nobody wanted, the troublemaker, the rebel. Anytime something good came along, he somehow drove it away. Shiro had spent a lot of time trying to convince him that it wasn’t true, that he wasn’t responsible for other people’s choices, but Keith had never quite believed him. If it wasn’t true, then why did trouble and sorrow seem to follow him everywhere he went? Even as an adult, even in quiznaking space he couldn’t keep from messing up the good in his life.

He didn’t blame Allura for locking him up. Didn’t blame Lance for his glares, didn’t blame Pidge for her anger or Hunk and Coran for their silence. He wouldn’t trust him, either, if he was in their place. The Galra had ruined each and every one of their lives. Even if he knew that he would never, ever hurt his team...maybe he could take on some of the blame of his race. If punishing him made them feel better, then he’d take it.

Time dragged by in that tiny cell. He knew, because the lights in the cavernous room around him brightened and dimmed with the Castle’s cycles just like they did upstairs, and bowls of food goo emerged out of the ground twice per cycle. Maybe it was some kind of Altean science/magic, or maybe there was just a dispenser beneath the floor. He didn’t know, or care. He was glad to get the food, but the fact that he didn’t even get that tiny bit of interaction that someone bringing him a meal would give him hurt. It was like being in the desert shack all over again, but much worse. In the desert, he had the choice to go into town and see people if he wanted, and he had keeping himself alive and chasing after the Blue Lion to keep his mind occupied.

Here, he had nothing. His time was divided between eating, pacing the floor, doing pushups - one armed, since his shoulder still wasn’t healed - and situps, and lying on the hard bed, though he slept very little.

He wasn’t sure what hurt more - the initial rejection and mistrust, or the lack of care now. No one even bothered to come down and ask him questions, to try to find out the truth, much less actually check on him and make sure he was okay. He wondered if they even looked at the security feed ever to see if he was even still alive.

He knew what did hurt the most, though, more than both of those things combined. Shiro. Out of everyone, he thought that at least Shiro would come down at some point. The fact that he had so readily accepted Keith’s Galra heritage had baffled him, but he had been the only one trying to defend him. So where was he now? Were they preventing him from visiting somehow? Or had he changed his mind after all, and sided with the others?

In the end, it took them four quintants that felt like an eternity to decide his fate. The elevator doors opened late in the day, the sudden noise after so much silence startling. Keith swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up quickly, trying not to be too disappointed when only Allura and Coran walked out. He supposed it was too much to ask that he could see all of his friends one more time.

Stopping in front of the cell, Allura folded her arms in front of her while Coran crossed his in the back. Both were stoic, betraying no emotion on their faces. Allura, of course, was the one to speak.

“We’ve come to escort you off the ship.”

His stomach clenched, even though he hadn’t expected anything different. “Okay.”

“We have landed on a planet called Borulmyte. It is inhabited only by various primitive and non sentient species. The atmosphere is breathable and the climate livable for both humans and Galra.” The last word was said with no small measure of disgust. “There are plenty of edible plants and animals, so you should be able to survive just fine.”

Survive. That was the key word in all of this, wasn’t it? He had half expected not to survive, to be thrown out of an airlock into the cold vacuum of space. But now...surviving is all that he would be doing. Alone, again. He shouldn’t have expected anything different. Alone was apparently his destiny. Alone on a planet with no other sentient life, no one to interact with, no possible way of ever leaving.

Surviving. No more living, those days were over. He wasn’t ever very good at that, anyway. Surviving was what he did best. How long, though, would he last? How long until he decided he was tired of surviving, when there wasn’t even anything left to survive for? Out in the desert, he had had the Blue Lion calling him, and the stubborn notion that Shiro wasn’t really dead. Now...he’d only have himself.

“This was certainly no easy decision, and much time, discussion, and thought has gone into choosing the proper planet. So I hope that you will cooperate and not cause a scene. Nothing you can say or do is going to change our minds now.”

For a moment, he let himself imagine those discussions. It certainly wasn’t the first time over the past few days he had done so. Did anyone advocate for him? Had Shiro been the one to insist that they make sure the planet was livable? Had they chosen a basically uninhabited place because they wanted to keep him safe from possible Galra rule, or because they wanted to keep locals safe from him? Had anyone voted for just throwing him out the airlock?

He nodded and stood. “Okay.”

An opening was made in the force field so that Coran could enter and lock his wrists into energy cuffs. Then he was escorted up the walkway, into the elevator for a completely silent ride, and out into the familiar front hall. It almost seemed like just yesterday that he and the others had crept cautiously through those towering doors, having no clue the adventures that were waiting for them inside. Now he was being figuratively thrown out the same doors onto a planet that was just as unknown as Arus had been then.

The light was dim when they exited, whatever sun might exist there already having set. They were in an open, desert like area, but a forest of some sort was nearby. At least he had options. He knew how to make his way in an Earth desert, but for food and shelter the forest might be his best option.

“This is where we leave you.”

Coran stepped forward and removed the cuffs, and Keith absentmindedly rubbed at his wrists.

“Don’t suppose I get a communicator like our...your allies.”

Allura just stared at him with the same, unchanging expression. He ran a hand through his hair.

“Right. Listen, um...could you...give everybody a message from me? I was...hoping to get to say goodbye, but…”

Sighing heavily, Allura looked as if she was barely refraining from rolling her eyes. “I suppose that depends on what this ‘message’ is.”

“Um.” He looked down at his feet, scuffing the toes of his boot into the sand. “Tell...tell Hunk that I’ll...miss his cooking. Especially those brownies he made for me. And tell Lance that...I never hated him. He...annoyed me sometimes, but...he was a good friend, too.”

He drew in a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Tell Pidge…” He swallowed. “Tell Pidge that I hope she finds her family. I really, really do. And that she’s doing great with her bayard. I...kept meaning to tell her that, but never did.

“And Shiro…” His jaw tightened. There were so, so many things to say to Shiro. Things that he should have said long ago, things that he had said before but could never say enough. Things that he’d never get a chance to say again. He dashed errant tears away with the back of his hand. “Just...tell him I love him.”

He looked up finally, giving a wobbly half smile. Allura looked even sterner than before, though Coran’s mouth had twisted a bit to the side in an expression that Keith couldn’t read. “And thank you both, for letting me have the chance to fly Red. She’s...amazing.” One corner of his mouth lifted a little more. “Tell her I’ll miss her.”

A long, awkward moment passed before Allura cleared her throat. “Right, then. If that’s all…”

Coran seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts and pulled Keith’s knife out of his pocket. “We figured you might as well have this. It is yours, after all, and you’ll need it, I’m sure.”

Keith whispered his thanks as he gingerly took it from the man's hands.

“Alright. Well...farewell, Number Four.” Coran gave a little salute, Allura a curt nod, and they turned their backs to walk back up into the Castle.

Once they were gone, Keith stayed rooted in place, unable to make himself move. It was only when the Castle rumbled to life that he took a few unsteady steps backwards. The place that he had come to call home over the past few months lifted from the ground before shooting off into the sky. Keith tipped back his head and watched until it was no more than a speck, blending in with the stars that had begun to come out, refusing to let the tears that burned at his eyelids fall.

There was a pretty good chance that none of his messages would ever get relayed. He hoped they would, but knew that he’d never find out one way or the other. He’d never see any of those he thought were his friends again.

He was alone.

All that was left to do now was survive.

[livlepretre]

I was such a strong Beklena supporter and ready to do sacrifices or smth so you could kill Klaus off and make them happy together UNTIL that devil incarnate started showing some decency again and mentioned Elena's wishes to remain human. I don't care (totally care) about his other motives for this, but this is all it took to melt my heart and go full Klena mode once again. You also mentioned that he was drawing HER?? I didn't even think about that? This fic will kill me one day

Klena ^ 

I am screeching in the MOST unbecoming ways while reading your comments. “ready to do sacrifices so you could kill Klaus off” HA! 

So, I wrote about this at length in the comments thread in ao3, but I think that the conversation between Klaus and Rebekah is a really excellent look at how they view Elena’s agency. Yes, Rebekah has matured a ton and been really good for Elena right now, but there’s always the chance that she’s going to impulsively turn Elena, or assume she knows what Elena wants, and just take away Elena’s consent in the matter. She’s capable of it, although she could just as easily have an actual conversation with Elena, especially if Elena decides to initiate it. 

Honestly this overheard conversation is one of my biggest arguments for Klena that I’ve made since like. Chapter 40. Or the flashbacks, maybe. Yes, he initially makes some catty remarks about now wanting Elena haunting him forever... but even that word, “haunting,” is so telling. He’s been running from her for years, and now it’s getting to a point where she’s cornered him and doesn’t even realize it. He can’t move past her, and his only hope is that she will live out a mortal lifespan and die. He knows there will be no escaping her if she becomes a vampire. But the thing is, that’s just the initial excuse he has ready to defend himself with. Notice he doesn’t bring up the bloodbank thing-- that’s all Rebekah. (and, for that matter, he hasn’t even brought up the baby thing in ages. he’s way too wrecked to even think about it.) No, when pushed, his main reason for not wanting Elena turned is that Elena has explicitly told him she doesn’t want that, and Elena is just starting to see through him enough to be correct when she thinks that maybe he respects her enough to respect her wishes. He won’t let Rebekah turn Elena if Elena doesn’t want to be turned. 

Now, it is convenient that it coincides with Klaus’s other desires-- to keep her mortal so as to have access to her blood and to keep himself safe from her? Yes. Does that coincidence bolster his resolve where maybe it would be shakier otherwise? Sure. 

One more thing. He’s definitely jealous and wrecked by the idea that maybe Rebekah’s right... maybe Elena would want to be a vampire to be with her, when she had soundly rejected the idea when it was about being with him. Elena is the one person he felt closer to than anyone ever, and she literally stabbed him in the heart for his trouble. So... he’s upset about the relationship but also upset that he’s upset and still trying really really hard to run as far away from Elena as possible, even though he knows he’s fighting a losing battle. 

Oh, and yes, he was drawing her. The other “hidden Klena” moment is that he was totally watching Elena and Rebekah have sex on the lawn. When Rebekah looks up toward the 2nd story of the house during that scene, she’s actually looking straight at her brother. 

I know this is the slowest burn that ever there was but like it’s a supervolcano. It has to build and build and build before finally it goes skyhigh. 

Thank you so much for reading and sticking with me on this journey!

[taurustony]

The True Mighty Bison

EDIT [22/05/2021]: Some time ago, I wrote an updated version of this theory. You might want to check it out: The True Mighty Bison - Season V Edition  [WARNING: really long post. way longer than this one] Something that comes up to my mind every now and then and came with renewed intensity after a recent release

This is M. Bison. Bison is one first class A-hole who runs the biggest crime syndicate on the world (Shadaloo), wants to spark global destruction if not given global domination and has a tendency to kidnap 16 year old girls.  Bison also wields something called Psycho Power. Through profane rituals (more of this in a bit), He is the biggest source/receptacle of it. this power is also destroying his body, which leads to the only thing he likes more than kidnapping 16 year old girls: Body Swapping. The body in the picture is not his original body, not even his first, but is the... model we are most used to see him using. This is how you would imagine him if one mentioned M. Bison. In SFV he finally got grey/white hair, but originally this body had black hair.

however...

These are Ed and Falke. They are CLONED Bodies of Bison, They are both spare bodies for M. Bison, created in a attempt to build a body strong enough to hold his power. They are both of the most recent attempt, the newer models so to speak. As far as we know, they are all biological (a point that will come up later) and since CAPCOM use the word CLONES, they share the same DNA as Bison. Physically speaking, they are around their late teens, although being much younger actually (both suffered from accelerated aging). They escaped Shadaloo due to the fact that an older model ended up destroying the base where they were being held. speaking of the Devil....

These are Seth and Abel.  Also, spare bodies of Bison. But (un)fortunately, they developed a conscience and independence. While Abel ran away and joined the french army, Seth created a splinter cell from Shadaloo called S.I.N. and planned a hostile takeover of the syndicate. One interesting fact is that both Seth and Abel are the SAME MODEL of bodies, but Seth installed the upgrade of the Tanden Engine on his belly. So Abel was once like Seth and if given enough time, Seth could become like Abel.  One recent release on Street Fighter V revealed the Seth was always more machine than man. If that is plainly due the Tanden Engine modification and what this means to Abel, its still unknown. both (Abel more than Seth) still have Bison’s DNA on them. Seth was the final Boss of Street Fighter IV, and Abel was the protagonist of that series. but, the older models are the more interesting ones.

These are Cammy and Decapre. Both are the oldest clone models player knew until recently. They are also fully biological and the first successful vessels for Psycho Power. Decapre is actually a “ Cammy Alpha“, a failed attempt to create Cammy. Being fully biological, they ALSO carry Bison’s DNA. Apparently, Bison really wants a blond hair for his new body. While Cammy became independent and joined the British Army, Decapre stayed brainwashed and a weapon for Shadaloo until recently (SFIV). Both Decapre and Cammy were part of a shadaloo project call “The Dolls project“: Most of the Dolls were the kidnapped teenage girls mentioned before, but they were also test beds for Bison’s control via psycho power. There were 12 Dolls (Decapre and other 11), with Cammy being a 13th, codenamed Killer Bee. As of now, you probably noticed: 3 males, 3 females. but all blondes. We might be onto something here. But remember that profane ritual I mentioned? One of the results was this lady here...

This is Rose. In order to get full access to Psycho Power, Bison had to EXPEL ALL THE GOOD ENERGY FROM HIS SOUL. No joking. the good half of Bison’s Soul incarnated on a young Italian GIRL who was being born that moment and who grew up to be a incredible psychic and fortune teller ,plus the most powerful user of the SOUL POWER, the opposite to Bison’s Psycho Power. so Rose is the REINCARNATION of Bison’s soul, or at least half of it. After the events of SF Alpha 3, Bison even used Rose’s body as a vessel, to hide himself from the authorities. How she was freed and what happened to her during SFII is still unknown. Still with me? This week a STREET FIGHTER V release created another point on this list: SETH will be released next year (2020) for Street Fighter V, as a playable character. HOWEVER, the FORM he chose was quite the surprise.

THIS IS SETH! YES, THAT SETH!! After having all 16 of his bodies destroyed during SFIV, his brain was placed on a old body known as DOLL UNIT 0. Seth used this old vessel to survive the destruction of S.I.N. and is now looking to destroy Bison himself. ALL OF THESE, ALL OF IT, are just canon facts from the SF series lore.  now for the speculation. Bison is not using the original body. and it makes sense that a power like psycho power would better fit a body close to the original one, which might factor why his current body is failing these days. why he had to abandon his original body? the only guess that the profane ritual either destroyed it in the process or damaged it beyond repair. but at this point, Bison already had gained the power to posses other bodies. Doll Unit 0, the prototype for the perfect vessel, is female. Bison’s soul incarnated on a female body and until very recently, when his clone technology developed enough to create more radical deviations, the clones were all female. Male bodies even only became possible when they started becoming more machines than biological, due to the implement of the tanden engine, a alternative to the biological route to gather psycho power. Considering CAPCOM’s own words, that Seth is more machine than man, we can guess that Abel is probably just the biological basis for Seth, who is mostly the Tanden Engine and a biological brain. This could mean DOLL UNIT 0, the discarded body was FULLY FEMALE before being inserted the mechanical parts of Seth.  If, by pretty much comparing to real world cloning technology, cloning someone of the same gender is easier and more direct than altering the gender, and the fact that DOLL UNIT 0 was the true first attempt, meaning, Shadaloo’s cloning tech was tested with HER, so she would be the more direct and easier to to clone... I’m saying that Bison’s original body is FEMALE and something close to this:

sorry for the bad photoshop.  Because psycho power is the yang to soul power’s yin, with the destruction/damage of Bison’s original body, Bison created/possessed a male body, in a attempt to better initial control what would be a “masculine energy”. In the balance of the Yin/Yang symbolism, Yin, the black part, can represent a “feminine energy”, while Yang, the white part, can represent a “masculine energy”. This also explains WHY the Yin part of this soul incarnated on a girl.  But several attempts of cloning/control are female rather than male. We can only assume his PERFECT body is female, because his original body was female also. Being a blonde at this point is either because Bison was a blonde, or just a aesthetic choice. Blonde hair also requires less nutrients (you can become a blond if you don’t eat enough as a child. I myself was a example of this), so all the clones being blondes might be just the limits of the technology at these point. the black hair on Doll Unit 0 might just be Seth wanting to distance himself from Bison or he actually developed a better cloning/body building process than Bison.

[thebeautyofdisorder]

The Undone & The Divine (BBC Dracula) - Chapter 5

A/N: Okay...this took far longer than I expected it to, but to be fair for five minutes I was almost convinced to take a break and leave it at four. Five minutes is giving it too much credit, I think. But, either way - here it is. I hope you enjoy it. I labored over the last bits of this for far too long wondering if I was getting too ahead of myself, but... what the hell, right? Please reassure me with comments.

Rating: still T, for blood, language, and a bit of dubious consent/alluding to adult concepts 

Pairing: Dracula & Zoe/Agatha Van Helsing

Chapters 1 & 2 Here - Chapter 3 Here - Chapter 4 Here

Can be found on AO3 - Right HERE -

Chapter 5

It was another two weeks before Zoe saw sunlight again. Not out of any kind of vampiric repulsion, but purely due to the epic workload she had set up for herself. She knew as much as she hated to admit it that Dracula was right. She had a limited amount of time to make good on her intentions and an expanse of scientific ground to break, more than she had ever envisioned for herself. 

Worse, there was a level of occult knowledge that she needed to reacquaint herself with since she’d tossed it in the bin twenty years prior, but Agatha was at least useful in that respect. Granted 1897 was not the most ideal cut off, but it gave her a decent groundwork. What wasn’t useful was the obvious glee that overcame her in the presence of the monster Zoe had been taught from an early age was basically the devil incarnate. And it’s not as though the nun even disagreed with the assessment, save her belief in the literal devil causing a bit of a contextual conflict. 

Zoe had always took pride in her stoicism, but Agatha was quite the opposite. She’d always found some sort of wicked, curious amusement in everything, even in the face of death – and vampires, apparently. Not that she didn’t have a very personal reason to be interested now. No, ignoring Dracula was no longer an option. Understanding him was the only way to fully understand herself, and whoever else the Count was no doubt soon to add to the ranks of the undead. 

As much as she detested to admit it, she could feel herself changing – slowly, but surely evolving past the limits of what it had always meant to be human. Everything was different – the way things smelled, looked, tasted, felt… there wasn’t a sense unaffected. And with it had grown subtle, gnawing hunger that she was determined to repress – or, currently, find a safe way to sate. And she was close. So close. But without a few more key bits of information from the beast himself, there was no way to be sure.

She had let him be for now, since she knew they at least had time in that regard. Dracula was many things, but a total idiot was not one of them, and no doubt he’d taken notice of the pattern just as easily as she did. The longer he spent with each victim, the more ideal the transformation after death. Instant kills were a 50/50 shot at best. If he was on the lookout for another ‘bride’ – even if he’d found one, there was no way he’d waste his newly renewed hope by getting overzealous. Zoe alone seemed to be the outlier of that unspoken rule, but ingesting so much of his blood (and also being on death’s doorstep already) seemed to have been the push.

It wasn’t like she didn’t know where he was. In fact, she found that if she let herself focus on him too long she couldn’t seem to avoid getting a sort of passing ‘update’ of his current actions – whether she wanted it or not. Just the person she wanted to be mentally connected to. Though whatever the connection was, it seemed to be a two-way street as opposed to the sort of controlling thrall that he had over certain others. At least she hadn’t caught herself doodling ‘Dracula is God’ in the corner of any of her notepads, thank fuck for that.

After a couple of weeks, however, the peaks at his consciousness were becoming more involuntary – either that, or he’d found out a way to push them at her deliberately, which wouldn’t surprise her in the least. An array of miscellaneous throats, mostly – with the occasional face to go with them even, but a strangely short order of corpses. Not too surprising given his renewed intent to procreate, but she expected the body count would be still reasonably…abundant. 

Despite knowing she should be relieved, Zoe felt a creeping sense of dread. How many people did he intend to turn? To keep up with his usual appetite he’d have to be keeping a menagerie of donors. Willing donors. For a brief, mindless moment she wondered to herself how the hell he was managing that. Her own voice (more or less) answered in a clipped mocking laugh, echoing out loud in the silence of her office. 

Tall, dark, handsome, well dressed, charming – in a snakey sort of way with no particular sexual preference, in a city full of jaded, power starved people longing to escape from their problems, with a cynical attitude toward life and death?  Christ’s sake, they were in the age of the opioid epidemic and the man was walking heroin. Literally. The world was doomed. 

Ready or not, it was about time she stopped making things so easy for him, Zoe decided, packing up her latest round of experiments and locking them away. Just because she couldn’t kill Dracula (yet) didn’t mean that she couldn’t distract him - a thought that she was well aware originated more with Agatha than herself, but the scientist in her was still fully willing to embrace. 

The methodology was...negotiable, they'd settled on vaguely as Zoe found her way quickly home to her flat. 

Once she decided to figure out his location, it didn't surprise her that the count was 'on the prowl', but she did have to roll her eyes at his choice of venue. Apparently he was going to make following him inconvenient. It definitely wasn't a club she could just waltz into dressed like a science professor and blend in. 

But this is good, he won't be expecting your intrusion. 

...Or he's expecting me to show up in a lab coat and give myself away Zoe countered internally, becoming arguably far too comfortable with disagreeing with her own inner voice as she yanked out a little black dress from the back of her wardrobe and tossed it on her bed, along with her far more lived in leather jacket.

Fine. This was fine. If she could keep randy 20-year-olds focused on studying science instead of each other on a regular basis, she could certainly handle putting a wrench in a 500 year old man-child’s seduction techniques. 

------

Of the numerous intrigues and conundrums the 21st century had wrought upon the Count, the notion of the vampire being not only a cultural topic of admiration but practically a fetish was one he had never seen coming. He was actually embarrassed it had taken him this long to fully comprehend and, in turn, utilize this phenomenon. It was true none of his earlier victims had really been surprised when his teeth sank into their necks, but the full scope of it had never really ‘dawned’ on him until baring his fangs had inspired one too many bouts of earnest excitement. It was frankly hilarious, not to mention convenient, though truth be told he was beginning to miss the charms of inspiring unholy terror. 

Not that the initial euphoria didn’t quickly evolve into proper panic once the reality of exsanguination occurred to them – if he allowed it to. He sometimes did, particularly since he was losing patience with being told it wasn’t Halloween just before ripping into their throats. He opted not to keep those idiots around, more often than not. The undead didn’t need any more denial in its ranks - Zoe was already proving to be so far immune to his influence in every way, he did not need any more deviance. 

It luckily hadn’t taken Dracula long to finally hit the smorgasbord: an entire dark room, filled almost entirely with dozens of willing, believing victims. So many nocturnal souls, full of wickedness and naïve delight at the mere thought of a creature such as him walking amongst them. Many of them even liked to already call themselves vampires, some in jest and others in actual earnest - artificial fangs and all! It was downright adorable. Now why should he, of all people, ruin their fun? 

It never took very long to capture someone’s attention, and that particular night was no different save for the fact that his potential prey had suddenly turned their attention away from him and was having some unknown words whispered in their ear by a woman he vaguely recognized as the bartender. 

“I…um, I need to go. Emergency,” The young woman stated in the broken persistence easily identified as that of an unpracticed liar, and she dissolved hurriedly back into the darkness from whence she came. 

Dracula’s head tilted briefly in confusion, but then in realization he sighed as his eyes scanned and locked in a glare on the slender figure at the far end of the bar who was smirking at him. 

Striding over with exaggerated reluctance, he leant against the surface at her side.

“What did you tell her?” 

Zoe shrugged, still clearly pleased with herself. “Just enough to make you sound revolting. Not exactly hard to do.”

“No one likes a cock block, Dr. Helsing,” he accused with a raise of his brows, looking down at her.

Zoe chuckled aloud. “I think we both know your cock isn’t something to worry about,” she replied, eyes rolling at his apparent need to show off his modern vocabulary. 

“Ouch,” he rumbled, amusement still glinting in the black pools of his eyes despite his attempt at a pout. “Should I be offended?” 

“Is there even anything to be offended about?” She found herself asking, and briefly cursed Agatha’s ever-greedy curiosity.

The Count’s brows shot upwards, in either genuine surprise or a good ploy of it as he turned his body to face hers. “Are you asking if I’m, as you say, ‘fully functional and anatomically correct’? Oh dear, now I am offended.” It didn’t falter his smile.

“I just assumed you saw everyone as little more than happy meals with legs,” she said in, granted, unnecessary explanation for the question. Never in anything she’d seen or heard of his attempts to seduce or charm did he seem to be in pursuit of anything but dinner.

“I’m a man of many appetites, some just supersede others,” he replied simply, at first, though quickly amended. “And certain aspects of being a vampire does make it difficult to find a partner who will remain conscious or even survive the experience through to its conclusion.”

“Sounds like a self-control problem to me, though...I wouldn’t have thought the killing part to be an issue for you,” she uttered in return, more of Agatha’s intrigue popping out without her consent. 

His eyes narrowed knowingly, as they always seemed to do when he sensed Zoe’s words were not always her own, though it didn’t stop him from responding.

“I may be undead, but I am no necrophile. I told you I like the lively ones, and I meant that. Even if the vast majority are ‘happy meals with legs’ that’s no reason to ignore what’s between them. Where do you think all that blood flows to when you’re aroused?”

“Sorry I asked,” Zoe clipped, eyes rolling again in sheer avoidance of his probing gaze.

“Maybe I ought to try some restraints,” he mused thoughtfully, ignoring her comment entirely and refocusing on his current ‘conundrum’ she’d been so kind as to bring to the forefront of his thoughts. “I fed from an interesting little dominatrix the other night…”

“For them or for you?” Zoe found herself snarking back, beginning to wonder if it was a better or worse choice to let a nun have this conversation in her place.

“Oh, them. It would keep them conscious a bit at least. When your saliva is a sedative, over-eagerness just breeds trouble. I don’t even know if they make anything strong enough to restrain me. Silver…if you believe the stories, though I’ve never tried it.” His brow quirked upward lasciviously at her, an obvious lure. “Perhaps you would do the honors?” 

“Perhaps I should try to stake you, just to be sure. You never know, I could get lucky.”

“Now, now. We both know you’re not going to do that. Come on Agatha – don’t think I don’t know when it’s you, you always were a curious cat - if things went your way I’d still be locked in a box to prod at for the rest of eternity, all for the sake of extending your morbid curiosity. I was extending a courtesy with that offer. It could be the closest you’d get to satisfaction in that regard. Or any regard," he drawled, punctuating his already not-so-subtle meaning by moving in closer still, deliberately intrusive. He lived to infuriate. 

Agatha’s first instinct was to aim a slap at his absurdly smug face just for the audacity, regardless of Zoe’s opposing instinct to ignore him entirely. Apparently the nun won out, though the speed in which her hands zoomed forward was an impossible thing, and as Zoe feared, a grave mistake. The older vampire caught her hand in his massive fist before it came within an inch of his flesh, with a look of pure satisfaction. In the same gesture, his other hand shot to grasp her throat and by the force of the movement alone urged her back from the bar and into the shadows just beyond it. The music was melancholic, but loud and just chaotic enough to drown out the faint growl erupting from his throat. 

“Ooh. Look at you go. I think my blood really did do the trick, didn’t it? None of my brides, before or after their full transformation, could even come close to my speed. And you’re already halfway there. Not to mention completely immune to my power of suggestion yet still able to locate me, it seems – very, very irritating, but impressive. Any fangs yet?” 

Struggling briefly in his grasp, she bared her teeth at him spitefully, showing off her teeth’s lack of points. 

“Aw. What a pity,” he sighed, letting go of her hand, but kept her neck in his grip – not squeezing, but present and unmoving, nonetheless lest she try to attack him again.

 “Still trying to fight it, aren’t you? Zoe’s just a stubborn thing, she wants to prove me wrong. But you…you are trying to protect her. From me…herself, I don’t know, but it’s only going to end up driving her mad.” 

“It’s completely feasible to resist the blood lust,” Agatha persisted, meeting his steely gaze with her own. “She’s figured out how it works, what the vampiric body needs to function.” 

“And I suppose you’d be the expert at resisting lusts, wouldn’t you?” His fingers tightened minutely around the long column of her throat, and his words were a harsh whisper that’s effect on her body mocked the very virtue it was pretending to praise. 

“For once, Dracula, stop flattering yourself,” she spat, turning her head as much to look away from him – at anything but him - as his hold would allow.

“I never flatter myself. You stop elevating yourself. You’re not a nun anymore, you’re just another wayward soul. You’ve died twice trying to rid the world of me and we’re both still here. Take a hint.” 

“Perhaps I’m still here to stop you,” she suggested, finally turning back to face him with a challenging lift of her brow.

The Count met her challenge with a look of utter acceptance , his face leaning down to hers in what to anyone else would be a clear threat - and to anyone else, it was exactly that. To a normal, non corrupt human his kiss meant instant submission, the predator incapacitating his prey. 

“Then, by all means, stop me.” 

She stood stiff in the face of his intimate approach, for a moment able to ignore any further context and simply prod at him. 

"Your delusions won't work on me anymore," Agatha reminded him blandly, pushing breath out with each word just because she could. 

This gave him pause for all of a moment, but it was seemingly only to observe her stubborn face with faint amusement. 

"Good," he uttered against her lips with mocking simplicity, but before she could take another breath he was kissing her hard and to his utter relief, didn't get limp, clouded acceptance in response. 

She let out a frustrated growl of her own in protest, more human than beast, though her attempt at clamping her lips closed in protest came a moment too late. He'd captured her lower lip between his own and she felt the sharp scrape of his canines as he pulled, still prominent without the animalistic haze of hunger. 

Her initial will to resist buckled to make way instead for an aggressive refusal to be dominated - whether those forces had names or were shared equally between the Van Helsing women, he couldn't say, but instead of allowing him to ravage her mouth unopposed, or even to attempt to fight or flee as the Count half expected, she'd responded with equal fervor - out of lust or spite or both. Her blunt teeth bit down hard where his had only nipped and her previously limp hand found its way to the back of his head and anchored itself in his locks to counter the tightening of his grip on her neck. 

The snarl that reverberated from his throat and into her mouth was every bit as bestial as hers was human, and his grip tightened dangerously just before forcing her backwards and away from him like he was embracing an open flame. She barely caught herself before crashing into a wall, but still looked on with unadulterated satisfaction as Dracula looked twice as shaken as she did in the face of his first kiss in 500 years that didn't end in immediate surrender. Men - alive or dead - were all the same. 

After a moment, he caught himself, letting out a wicked chuckle in the face of her smirk. "We'll make a monster of you yet, Van Helsing," he assured her raggedly, bluster gradually returning to his stance and the set of his jaw as he watched her.

Zoe - and fully Zoe at that moment righted herself from where she leaned against the wall, adjusting her jacket, the satisfied look still in her eyes. 

"Happy hunting, Count Dracula. Just don't expect me to make it easy for you."

And without looking at him again, she walked passed where he stood and headed in a leisurely stroll towards the exit, forcing her heart rate back to its normal deathly calm. 

----

I’m not even sure what to say to this other than either I’m sorry or your welcome. I’m just going to tag everyone who’s nerding has inspired me to continue, regardless if you’ve showed any interest in reading or not. If you want to be tagged, let me know

Tag List: @charlesdances @bellamortislife @carydorse @break-free-killer-queen @imagineandimagine @my-fanfic-library @punk-courtesan @ohveda @wannabebloodsucker @hoefordarkness @mymagicsuitcase @crazytxgradstudent @itendedbadly @theplumsoldier @gatissed @allfandoms-writings @littlemessyjessi @vampiregirl1797 @desperatefrenchwriter @iloveclaesbang @ss9slb @dreamerkim @mephdcosplay @violetmarkey @alhoyin @thozaarmitage @girlonfireice@cipherwheeldecoder @crowley-needs-a-hug @mr-kisskiss-bangbang @iloveclaesbang

[ohthatwitchagain]

Princess Ateh’s deck of cards

Recently, while going through some old stuff in my house, if stumbled upon a deck of cards. The cards were in Greek and apparently aren’t available anymore, but I would like to share their story with you.

The cards were created by a (not so ordinary) princess, Ateh.  She is a poet, a teacher, a counselor, a magician, a succubus of sorts, a seditionist and a kind of Zen master for whom all truths of this world are self-canceling, that cancellation being the closest one gets to universal truth.  

Ateh was a Khazar princess and also protectress of the cult of dream hunters. Her lover,  Mokaddasa Al-Safer, was supposed to be one of the greatest dream hunters of all.  The goal of the dream hunters is to ''plunge into other people's dreams and sleep and from them extract little pieces of Adam-the-precursor's being, composing them into a whole, into so-called Khazar dictionaries, with the aim of having all these assembled books incarnate on earth the enormous body of Adam Ruhani'' - an unlikely achievement, since Mokaddasa Al-Safer himself only managed to shape a single strand of his hair. Besides, as the devil himself warns, it is a mortally dangerous vocation, and the reconstructed Adam may turn out, alas, to be a monster. 

Keep in mind that Ateh had two mirrors. a slow one and a quick one. They were made of salt and it is said that she had a very special connection with it.

So what about her deck?

Just like tarot cards, where we have the major and the minor arcana, her deck consists of two types of cards; the playing cards that we are familiar with and a set of 14 cards, called “mirrors”. 

Initially, her deck consisted of the 52 playing cards. She wrapped them in red silk, took her mirrors with her, her handmaidens, seven friends who were unmarried, seven types of salt and a black ebony box that contained the bones of her warrior ancestors and left with them for Europe, to find a prince. She wandered for years, met many princes who ended up marrying her friends, but did not find a husband of her caliber. However, she found something on that journey. The princes would give her beautiful paintings as gifts. When her last friend got married, and the prince gifted to Ateh a portrait of hers, she decided to head back to the Khazar capital, Itil. 

On her journey she collected 12 paintings. Before reaching Itil, she decided to visit a famous painter to show him the paintings. However, she didn’t know that her greates enemy, Hadras, demanded that the painter made his portrait and gave it to Ateh. Out of fear, the painter did so. This painting would later become the Devil card. 

Ateh was devastated since she didn’t want this card to be the last one to be added to her collection. She cried and criend in her tent, next to the springs of Sabeer, when  Mokaddasa Al-Safer (also called Haganos in the greek deck) heard her and offered her a painted plate to collect her tears. The plate’s painting would become the last card of her deck, called “the End”.  That same night, Ateh was asked by  Mokaddasa Al-Safer to read the cards for him and that was the beggining of their affair.

 Every Saturday, she would read the cards by using a spread called “the mirror inside the mirror”. There are many different spreads created for specific days and times.

Around 1910, ten centuries after Ateh’s birth, it is said that she was still wandering the streets of Istanbul.

If you would like more information about the rest of the mirrors, let me know and I will make another post!

Some of that information was found on https://movies2.nytimes.com/books/98/12/06/specials/pavic-khazars.html

[maomaomeows]

Mistletoe:

Request: Would Mao Mao kiss under the mistletoe during the Christmas season with his s/o?

 [A/N: I did both hc’s and a drabble for this one! Mistletoe is such a cute trope!!]

  Oh, absolutely. 

He’s initially really nervous about having mistletoe in the house. He didn’t have it growing up since his parents were afraid he would eat it. They didn’t want to take the risk of Mao Mao or one of his cousins eating it and going to the ER, all over a little plant. 

Once he became an adult though? He absolutely puts it up every Christmas! He’s watched a lot of sappy Christmas movies, and he loves the implications it has. 

This cat thinks kissing his partner under the mistletoe is a very cinematic, heroic move. 

When he actually gets the opportunity, he’s a little embarrassed at first! He tugs his cowl, suddenly hot. He’s blushing really hot as he looks up and realizes you’re both under the mistletoe. He recovers quickly, however, and moves you into a dip. The leather of his gloves presses against the small of your back. He moves closer, pausing for a moment as if asking for consent. You pull his head in gently, lips meeting in the middle. 

He revels in the hooting and hollering of everyone else at the party. 

The smell of hot chocolate lingered in the air, sweetness invading every corner of the palace. It was King Snugglemagne’s annual Christmas party, and everyone was having a wonderful time! Pinky had only gotten stuck in the railings twice so far, which was pretty good all things considered. Hundreds of Sweetiepies chattered amongst themselves, creating a lively white noise. Your eyes scanned the room lazily, searching for anything of interest. Badgerclops “ho, ho, ho” echoed loudly against the porcelain walls. He really fit the role of “Santa” well. He was sitting on a makeshift throne, the younger Sweetiepies lining up eagerly. You were surprised that nobody recognized him. The joy of Santa being in Pure Heart Valley was overwhelming their memory, you supposed. You moved to sip on your drink; except, it was empty. Perhaps you had been standing here longer than you thought.

You moved from your place along the wall, dead set on refilling your mug. You quickly glanced at the mistletoe above the kitchen entrance, before smiling to yourself. The King really loves romance, doesn’t he? 

You moved out of the way of Marion, careful not to get caught under the mistletoe with her. Sweet horse, really, but she isn’t your Mao Mao by any means. You moved in quickly after her. You know that saying, “speak of the devil and he shall appear?” Well, speak of the Mao and he shall appear. Mao Mao had his hands wrapped around Pinky’s legs, attempting to pull him out from under the sink. 

Pinky’s voice was muffled, but still audible:  “You’ll never take me alive, cop!” 

“Come on Pinky, I’m not messing around,” Mao Mao’s voice was strained, but stern. How long had he been fighting him for? He nodded his head to you in acknowledgement as you entered the kitchen. You smiled widely, amused by the situation at hand. You moved quietly over to the two, careful not to give yourself away to the Sweetiepie. Mao Mao raised an eyebrow at your actions, but stayed quiet nonetheless. In the blink of an eye you lurched forwards, prying Pinky’s fingers off of the pipe. Mao Mao tugged on his feet soon after, effectively freeing the rhino from the sink cabinet. He stalked away, grumbling as he exited the kitchen. You and Mao stole a glance at one another, chuckling quietly. 

“So, Merry Christmas, huh?” You grinned at him. He rolled his eyes, his own smile betraying his feigned annoyance. “Yeah, Merry Christmas. The guy just doesn’t know when to quit, huh?” Mao filled up his own mug before refilling yours as well. You sipped on your respective drinks, enjoying the silence that engulfed the kitchen. The party was fun, sure, but nothing beats quality time with your boyfriend. The taste of toasted marshmallow invaded your taste buds; truly Christmas incarnate. You leaned gently against Mao Mao, listening to his steady breaths and quiet purrs. You could hear the band change songs outside. You set your mug down on the counter, empty once again. He followed suit, placing his paw on the small of your back. The leather of his gloves was a distinctive feeling, a starkly different texture from that of his bare paws. The fabric of your own clothing reduced the sensation, but it was comforting nonetheless. As you exited the kitchen, you stopped in your tracks, grabbing his free paw. And up you pointed. 

Once he realized what was above him, he blushed. It’s hard to see under his thick, black winter fur, but to your trained eyes, it was as clear as day. He smiled nervously, eyes darting around the room. His whiskers twitched slightly, and he moved one of his hands to tug at his cowl. All of his usual signs of being flustered. ‘He’s so pretty when he’s embarrassed,’ you thought. Within seconds you were being held at an angle. He moved so fast that you were hardly able to keep up. You gazed into his eyes, bright green piercing your heart like a sugar-coated knife. You could feel your own face heating up now, flustered by the intensity of his gaze. He smiled at you, whiskers twitching in satisfaction. You move your hands around his neck, closing the gap in between your lips. He kisses you like a man possessed, and for a minute you forget you’re in public. You remember that quickly once a few party-goers start whistling and hooting at your guys’ display. Adorabat’s voice stands out from all the rest, cheering for her adoptive parents. You break apart, Mao Mao laughing into your neck. 

Merry Christmas, indeed.

[misssophiachase]

if you're still taking song prompts for klaroline, how about shawn mendes "if i can't have you"?

Yesssss anon, love this song!

Singer/Songwriter Klaus Mikaelson can’t stop thinking about his ex-girlfriend and childhood best friend Caroline Forbes. His behavior leads his frustrated manager to take drastic action.

If I Can’t Have You

I can’t write one song that’s not about you

“I don’t know who you are anymore.”

Her words still haunted him, even three months later. 

Klaus had returned home to Los Angeles ready to throw himself into writing and determined to try and block out all distractions. 

But then it started.  

It wasn’t a matter of not writing, in fact he’d penned a whole album within six weeks. Klaus thought it was good. It was probably the most honest writing he’d ever done. Unfortunately his manager and record label didn’t agree. They even had the audacity to call him obsessive like some crazed stalker.  

His insomnia was profound after that meeting. On one of those sleepless nights Klaus found himself in his expansive attic at 3am trawling through the numerous cardboard boxes – also known as his past - deciding that for some crazy reason revisiting his childhood would help kickstart the creative process. 

It did at first, the multitude of photos acting as the perfect narration of his high school journey. Kol making goofy faces, Elijah staring at him in the background with disdain, Katherine flashing her bloomers mid-cheer at Homecoming much to Rebekah’s shock and Bonnie lazily reading Ulysses under her favourite tree.  

Then he happened on the next picture. One he knew all too well. Caroline Forbes, his best friend and former girlfriend, dressed as a sexy nurse on Halloween and poking out her tongue. It had been her initial response when he’d asked her to give him mouth-to-mouth. Granted she did later, albeit after much persuasion. 

God he loved her, he probably always would. He decided this revisiting of memory lane was a very bad idea and not at all going to help his current predicament.

It was at that point as the sun began to peek above the horizon he knew exactly what he had to do. Purge her memory including wiping their most recent conversation from his mind and then maybe he could write. 

Easier said than done. 

3 months earlier… 

Can’t drink without thinkin’ about you

“Barman, another whiskey please?” He asked, shaking his glass for extra effect. He needed the liquid courage as everything was unfolding around him. Klaus had missed Boston and his family and best friends but having them come together all at once was slightly confronting. 

Probably his fault for deciding to attend this wedding last minute. His last album had just gone platinum and rather than basking in his success Klaus was already anxious about how he was going to top it.  

“Did you ever think our little Kol would get married?” Katherine’s arm was around his shoulder before he could process it completely. He still hated Katherine because she told Caroline he cried during ET when they were thirteen.

“No one ever thought he’d ever be mature enough to marry,” he joked. “But apparently Esther sent him off to Bonnie with care instructions.”

“Now those I would pay to see,” she teased. “You know seeing your brother married is almost as surprising as seeing his superstar big brother grace us with his presence.”

“It’s not like that Kat and you know it,” he replied gruffly.  “But you did marry Elijah and take his grumpy ass off my hands so I won’t hold it against you.”

She poked out her tongue before replying. “If I was truly an evil sister-in-law I’d tell you just how good Elijah is in bed with his….”

“Yuck, seriously Kat,” he growled, hoping the dozen or so whiskeys he’d consumed wouldn’t make a repeat appearance. “You truly are the devil incarnate.”  

“And just like that we’re back in high school again,” a soothing and familiar voice offered. “Stop playing with him Kitty Kat, he’s out of practice.”

“But it’s just so much fun,” she argued before sending him a knowing wink then gesturing in Caroline’s direction. So not obvious.

It was no secret that his siblings and most people in his hometown held out hope that the prom king and queen would live happily ever after. Unfortunately it wasn’t a realistic scenario, they’d grown apart not only in terms of distance.

“Always the diplomat, love,” he smiled, probably against his better judgment. He’d felt completely out of place but when she’d floated effortlessly down the aisle of the church in nude silk Klaus felt like he was home again. 

“Have you met your family?”

“Touché,” he chuckled, swirling the amber liquid in his glass and trying to ignore just how good she still smelled, a mixture of strawberries and freshly pouring rain. “If I get too drunk later, and forget to say, you truly are the perfect bridesmaid.”

“Why, because I know how to keep the peace between many competing egos? Your sister was especially difficult; anyone would think she was the bride.”

“Nothing ever changes around here,” he mused, not unfamiliar with his little sister’s antics. “No, it’s because you outshone them all, even the bride, just don’t tell Bonnie I said that.”

“So, I’m actually surprised you’re here. I was told you were too busy to come home for the wedding.” Klaus could sense the resentment in her voice.

“I moved a few things around.”

“Well, given it’s your own brother I’m glad you were able to be so flexible.”

“Wow, tell me what you really think, Caroline.”

“Fine, I will,” she offered, before taking a breath obviously about to give him a piece of her mind.

“It was a rhetorical statement,” he growled. “I don’t need a lecture, we’re not teenagers anymore.”

“Well, you could have fooled me,” she huffed. “I’m so proud of you and what you’re doing Klaus but coming back to visit your relatives shouldn’t be just an annual event.”

“I’m sure Esther, Kol, Elijah and Rebekah barely notice my absence, love.”

“You’d be surprised, Kol wasn’t his usual joking-self when he found out his big brother might not be at his wedding.”

“Well, I’m here now.”

“For how long for exactly?

“I, uh, leave tomorrow,” he faltered, his gaze now downcast his drink suddenly very interesting.

“Haven’t you just released your record? Surely they’d allow you some time off?”

“An artist’s work is never done.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” She asked, taking him by surprise and grazing his chin with her forefinger so his gaze returned to hers. Klaus suddenly felt dizzy and not just because of his alcohol consumption. “I really don’t know who you are anymore, Klaus.” 

“I’m still me, sweetheart,” he bit back defensively, completely puzzled and annoyed at the same time. The hardest thing he’d ever done was leave Caroline Forbes. 

“Well, how about staying and we can see if that’s true?” 

“I’d love to, I would, but I really need to get back.” He pulled back his stool and left, worried that her hopeful expression might tempt him to stay and actually force him to have a real adult conversation about his feelings. Klaus really wasn’t ready for that.

Is it too late to tell you that everything means nothing if I can’t have you?

“What is with you, mate?” His manager Enzo offered between songs in the recording studio. “When you went home I thought it would get you out of your funk.”

“Apparently not.”

“You are extremely talented Klaus and as your manager I’m here to support you even when you’re being a total wanker.”

“Wow, tell me what you really think. You’re like the male version of my sister, completely unapologetic and scathing.”

“Mmmm, not sure what I think about being compared to your sister but that’s why you hired me,” Enzo shot back. “You’ve only been able to write about one subject and while I don’t begrudge you a muse there needs to be some variety.”

“I’m trying, believe me,” he promised. 

“Not well enough,” he shot back, gesturing to the studio door and signalling a come here gesture with his fingers. 

“Excuse me?”

“I thought that bringing your biggest distraction here might help.”

“My biggest distraction,” Klaus murmured, his brain working quickly to work out just what he meant. “You didn’t?”

“Well, how was I supposed to lift the spell?”

“You realise having her here will work in the complete opposite way, St John,” Klaus mumbled thinking, not for the first time, his manager wasn’t the smartest person. 

“Calm down princess, she’s here to beat it out of you. Genius right?” 

“What the hell Enzo? She has a really sharp tongue and a mean right hook.”

“Perfect then,” He wasn’t sure what this was until she appeared behind the glass wall in the studio looking even more beautiful than Klaus remembered. “And by the way, it took a lot to get her here given she thinks you’re an arrogant ass. Her words, not mine.”

“I get it Enzo, you are the best manager ever,” he groaned sarcastically. “Any chance we can talk in private?”

They all seemed to scatter, mostly scared that shouting would ensue and Caroline’s famed right hook might be put to the test.  

“You are an arrogant ass,” she offered, propping her feet up on the desk and eyeing him through the glass. “I only say that because I worry about those poor fans of yours who should know better.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, love.”

“So, why the writer’s block exactly?”

“Straight to the point I see.” 

“Well, some people have lives to save, Mikaelson,” she cocked her head slightly to the left, making Klaus lose all concentration momentarily.

“I’m fairly certain the night you decided to dress as a nurse for Halloween your future vocation was secured and given your caring nature it’s perfect,” he smiled knowingly. “Although I hope your outfit at Mass General isn’t as skimpy as the original version.”

“Why would that be so bad?” 

“I’m thinking about heart attacks for the most part but not gonna lie it also makes me extremely jealous. Call me a caveman but I always hoped that outfit was for my eyes only.” 

“And if it was?” She was now leaning closer towards the glass, her blue eyes seeking out his curiously. 

“I saw that picture the other day,” he replied huskily. “You were in that same costume poking your tongue out at the camera. I didn’t think I’d ever felt so happy.”

“Funny that, I felt the same way. I’ll never forget your fireman suit, even if you were scared of fire.”

“Kol thought it would be a good choice.”

“And that says it all,” she laughed. “So, what exactly am I here for, Mikaelson? What’s this distraction you can’t shake?” 

“Well, I have one huge stumbling block,” he admitted sheepishly. “It’s you.”

“Huh?”

“I can’t stop thinking or writing about you,” he admitted, his eyes finding hers through the glass and secretly hoping that telling the truth would somehow free him. 

She was silent for the most part obviously processing his confession and weighing up whether or not to shout or kick his ass. 

“My manager likes my songs but apparently pining after one person isn’t all that attractive to the general public,” he murmured. 

“You don’t act like that at all,” she answered, “in fact you can barely bring yourself to visit Boston because you’re just too busy for your family and…”

“You’re the reason.”

“I’m sorry?”

“No I’m sorry,” he reiterated. “I’ve always loved you Caroline, probably since Katherine told you I cried during ET at Lucien’s party in the seventh grade, which by the way I so didn’t.”

“Now I feel like I’ve really been transported back in time,” she murmured. 

“I was setting the scene,” he explained, moving closer and placing his hand on the glass just near her lips. “When you and I broke out those turkeys on old man Johnson’s farm prior to Thanksgiving because you decided being vegetarian was a great idea.”

“And it was.”

“For a day,” he grinned, “but I’m sure those turkeys we freed will always be thankful for your generosity.”

“You only liked it because we made out in the field afterwards.”

“Well, I am only human you know, love,” he joked, poking his tongue out through the glass. “But it was when you were named Queen at prom I honestly thought we’d be together forever.”

“But life had a way of intervening,” she murmured, her eyes dipping. “And I don’t regret that for a moment because I’m so proud of you Klaus…”

“But you just don’t know who I am anymore?” He recited, those words he knew so well that had killed him. 

“Well, yes. You didn’t want anything to do with Boston, with your friends and family, with me.”

“I didn’t want to come home because of you, Caroline,” he admitted. “It was idiotic but the thought of seeing you in general but also happy with someone else was enough to stay away. I guess my family were collateral damage which wasn’t fair either.”

“Wow, he finally comes clean,” she teased. “I don’t want to stroke your ego but now you’ve admitted your undying love I could certainly help this writer’s block.”

“How, exactly?” Klaus asked, cocking his left eyebrow. 

“How in the hell do I get in there?” She insisted, running her hands over the glass repeatedly. 

“I have a weird feeling my sadistic manager thinks it would be fun to keep us apart to further the creative process.”

“We can kill him right?”

“Oh yeah, but it doesn’t mean we can’t have fun either,” he smiled. “In fact I have this great melody I’d like you to hear.”

It was at that point Klaus Mikaelson’s track “If I Can’t Have You” made its way to the top of the charts and given all his success he took some much needed time off with his finance and family in Boston.