#‘battie this is gross’ good

[venus-haze]

My Fading Voice Sings of Love (Vampire!Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Summary: You’re catapulted to stardom when the release of your debut album becomes an overnight hit. With so much attention on your still blossoming career, a residency at the International Hotel seems like a good way to start putting on your own shows. It’s not just the world’s eyes that are on you, though, as a hauntingly familiar and unsettlingly strange man decides to take you under his wing and guide you during your successful residency at the International. Until, inevitably, like all good things, it comes to an end.

Note: Read the warnings for this fic before interacting! This is based on a request by @brotherhood-of-feels and Jeff Buckley’s song Grace, which is where the title of this fic comes from (please for the love of god listen to the song). Reader is a woman and definitely naive, but no other descriptors are used. This takes place in the 90s because the existence of smartphones would complicate things. As for the Phantom of the Opera AU aspect, I figured instead of doing the mask thing, it’d be more fun to have him hide in plain sight as one of the dozens of Elvis impersonators in Vegas. Do not interact if you are under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: Dark themes such as emotional blackmail, death, blood, and obsessive and manipulative behavior, which some people may find disturbing or triggering. Brief mention of suicidal ideation. Explicit sexual content that involves coercion. Some corruption kink. I’m going to give a warning for bloodplay, but it’s oral sex while the reader is on her period so it’s not too intense(?) Do not interact if you are under 18.

You tried not to shake too much as Aileen, your makeup artist, applied glittery eyeshadow to your eyelids. It was only a rehearsal, you had to remind yourself as much, but you felt like you didn’t deserve it. The astronomic rise in fame and popularity you experienced in the blink of an eye seemed too good to be true, especially when within a few days of your debut album releasing, your manager, Chiara, informed you that the International Hotel in Las Vegas had reached out, interested in booking you for a residency there. The two of you looked over the contract with the lawyer from your label, and after some back and forth with the hotel, you’d accepted the offer of a three month residency playing two shows a day, four nights a week.

Chiara used to manage some up-and-coming Disney starlet, but dropped her as soon as she heard your demo. Her faith in your ability as a singer kept you motivated, even when you felt hopelessly overwhelmed by the music industry. It was all unfamiliarly cut-throat, and you had known your chances of being successful were slim. Between Chiara’s connections and your natural talent and work ethic, you’d generated enough interest in your first album through singles and interviews with every radio station and TV channel that offered. When it was finally released, your album was one of the most successful debuts in history. Chiara said it was all you, but you thought it was just a fluke.

Much to Chiara’s excitement, the first two weeks of shows had completely sold out. Though you forced a smile for her sake, you couldn’t help but feel the pressure overwhelm you. In your opinion, you still had so much to prove and lose. You didn’t deserve to take such a coveted spot from a more established artist.

You figured at least you’d get to spend a few months in a hotel room that was nicer than any apartment you’d ever rented. The penthouse suite was inaccessible due to renovations, at least that was the excuse on paper. You’d heard from one of the stagehands, however, that the penthouse had been pretty much unoccupied for years, and the old wiring meant the lights would turn on and off and the automatic curtains would sometimes open and close on their own. It didn’t help either that the elevator closest to the showroom was broken, the International Hotel’s management unable to give you a timeline as to when it would be fixed.

When Aileen let you know she was finished, you thanked her, letting out a shaky breath as you took in your appearance. The sparkling outfit complimented your body type and skin tone perfectly, with tastefully placed cut-outs that you had to talk Aileen out of applying body glitter to. Your hair was styled perfectly to suit the outfit and your face. In all honesty, you’d never felt so beautiful. Still, it wasn’t enough to calm your nerves as you made your way on stage. 

The only people sitting in the showroom were Chiara and Aileen, which should have made you feel better. On your signal, the backing band began to play your opening song. When it was time for you to actually sing it, you only managed to open your mouth for a moment before clamming up. Shaking your head, you waved at the band to stop playing.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I just—you know I’ve never done anything like this before, putting on my own show.”

“Well get used to it, because this is gonna be the rest of your career,” Chiara said.

“What if they’re all disappointed? I mean, I’ve only ever opened for other musicians. Now all of these people are going to be here just to see me.”

“Don’t even think about that. It’s just us, Y/N,” Aileen assured you. “There’s no one else here.”

Being the most recognizable man in the world meant Elvis Presley didn’t have the same freedom that the dozens of other vampires in the world had, able to roam as they pleased as soon as night fell. In truly the most twisted irony, the only place he could do as he pleased was Las Vegas, a city so full of people pretending to be him that he was practically invisible. The crowds of tourists that flooded the city each night hardly looked his way, except to request the occasional photo and comment on how good of an impersonator he was, to his amusement. He supposed it worked out, though he hated Vegas and being tethered to the International Hotel, there were plenty of unsuspecting victims out and about, an endless buffet if he so pleased. He didn’t feed often enough to impact the city’s unsolved murder statistics that much, anyway.

Sometimes he’d wander the streets of Las Vegas until the sun teased its beautiful amber rays on the horizon. It was the closest he could get to seeing it again, as he discovered exposure to sunlight even through windows or tinted glass would result in painful burns on his skin that would take days to heal. Another unfortunate plus side to being a vampire in Vegas, it was a city full of windowless rooms where he didn’t have to worry about sunlight exposure. He missed the sun’s warmth and beauty, though, and in his second decade of loneliness, he increasingly considered staying outside as the sun rose, letting the fire consume him. 

He could never work up the nerve to do so, and would slink back to the International Hotel before dawn. His enhanced abilities as a vampire were useful in threatening Kohn into allowing him to reside in his penthouse suite indefinitely, but he found little use for them besides that. Few, if any, of the hotel’s staff knew the truth about the penthouse’s mysterious resident, and he preferred to keep it that way. 

Other artists held residencies at the International through the years, but they hardly interested him. Even if their music was to his taste, he could hardly stand to bring himself to the showroom where he had so many terrible memories. He missed performing, though, and playing piano or guitar alone in his suite didn’t give him the same thrill as putting on a show for a crowd of adoring and energetic fans.

In all of the years he’d been at the hotel, though, he never saw as much chaos leading up to any residency besides his own until you came along. He found himself staring at the crisp, colorful poster that announced your shows to support your debut album. He’d never heard of you before, but he figured Y/N Y/L/N had to have been something else to snag a residency with only one album out.

He stood in the shadows during your rehearsal, catching the subtle tics that betrayed your nerves after you fumbled your first attempt at opening the show. Despite that, you were breathtaking, and as you gained confidence, your vocals blew him away. You sang passionately and earnestly, and he could have sworn you looked right at him with an adoration that made him feel alive for the first time in nearly twenty years. You finished your performance with an exaggerated bow and a giggle that was just as musical to him. As soon as the two women sitting near the stage began clapping, he retreated back to his suite, his mind overwhelmed by thoughts of you. 

Chiara and Aileen stood up to applaud you and your backing band, with Aileen jokingly shouting for an encore. You had another week to rehearse, and even then, Chiara had assured you that the good thing about your Vegas residency was that you could see what worked and what didn’t for the audience and adjust accordingly. You only hoped that the rehearsals would be enough to quell your anxieties about performing. 

The following day, you arrived at the showroom three hours before the scheduled rehearsal time, hoping to practice a bit more on your own and not embarrass yourself as you did the day prior. Even though everyone had told you that you’d done a great job, you could hardly sleep as your mind replayed every time you fumbled over your own lyrics or missed a cue. The residency was so much bigger than just yourself, so many people were relying on you to do well and sell out the rest of the shows. People’s livelihoods were on the line, and for the first time, you found yourself half-regretting pursuing music as a career.

As you dropped off your things in your dressing room, you could hear the faint sound of a piano accompanied by singing. Furrowing your eyebrows, you wracked your brain for who else could be in the showroom too. When you walked onto the stage, you were taken aback to see an Elvis impersonator sitting behind the keyboard, playing Unchained Melody as he sang along. He sounded beautiful and sang with a confidence you were envious of. Even more strange, he looked almost exactly like him if you didn’t know any better. In fact, you found yourself staring at his face, studying his features until his downturned eyes looked up at you through thick lashes, catching you in his gaze as a smile spread across his lips.

When he finished singing, you were in awe, unable to articulate anything coherent. “You were incredible–I mean, hi, I’m Y/N, and–”

His voice was velvety as he acknowledged you. “I know who you are, mama.”

“That’s great,” you said, rocking on your heels during the awkward silence that followed. “I’m sorry–are you supposed to be here?”

He nodded, getting up from behind the keyboard and walking over to you. “I’m gonna help you with your show. Nerves used to get to me too.”

“Chiara didn’t tell me she was bringing in a musical director.”

“Yeah, real last minute thing,” he said.

“Do you always dress like that?” you asked.

He raised an amused eyebrow. “My clothes?”

“Yeah, the whole Elvis impersonator thing,” you said. “I mean, you do a great job of it. You look just like him, really. Sound like him too.”

His answer was a noncommittal shrug. You felt kind of ridiculous accepting his help, like you were in the plot to some corny made-for-TV movie where an aspiring starlet is mentored by an Elvis impersonator, only for it to actually be him as an angel or ghost or something, disappearing by the end of the movie after she’s learned whatever generic lesson about friendship or being humble. When you asked what his name was, he even told you to just call him Elvis. You hoped Chiara knew what she was doing by hiring him, but she hadn’t led you astray yet.

To your surprise, he was a good mentor, giving you pointers on your performance and advice in engaging with the audience during the show. You found it odd when he asked you not to tell anyone else that he was helping you with your performance, assuring you that he was updating Chiara on everything himself. Even when you brought up that his advice would be useful to the backing band or stagehands, he insisted he was supposed to be mentoring you only.

You felt out of your element when he suggested you keep things light-hearted by joking around with them every few songs. You could certainly see his point. It’d endear them to you, make you that much more relatable if your nerves meant your singing had some hiccups here and there. The jokes and quips you’d written down were mediocre at best, with songwriting undoubtedly being your strong suit. 

“I wrote some, I don’t know, jokes for the audience. I don’t think I’m much of a comedian, what do you think?” you asked.

He took the paper from you, and you cursed under your breath as the paper cut the delicate skin on your hand.

“Y/N,” Elvis whispered upon seeing the blood bead up and then drip down the side of your hand. He stared wide-eyed at the wound as if afraid of it.

“Hey, it was an accident. Don’t worry about it,” you said.

Just as you were about to pull your hand away, he grabbed it so quickly that if you had blinked, you would’ve missed it.

“Does it hurt?” he asked softly.

“I mean it stings a little,” you said.

He nodded, and in a move that made you feel like you were losing your mind, brought your hand to his mouth and licked the blood away, moaning as he did so. You’d never had an experience like that in your life, and you hated how the sound and sensation went straight to your pussy. Out of all the warning signals blaring in your mind at just about every interaction you had with Elvis in the few days he had been mentoring you, that was the blood red flag that stood out the most.

Looking up at you with hooded eyes, he kept his hold on your hand. “How about now?”

Unable to speak, you shook your head, disappointed when he released you at your confirmation of your well-being. You could hardly focus the rest of the evening, and when you returned to your suite later that night, you replayed the incident over and over in your head as you played with your clit, unaware of the voyuer who could hear you moaning his name as you brought yourself to orgasm at the thought of him and your own blood.

He didn’t bring up the incident the next time you saw him, which you took as your cue to not mention it either. As the next few days led up to opening night, you spent more time on stage with your backing band than with him. Though Chiara and Aileen assured you that you were ready, showing so much improvement from your first rehearsal the week before, you only truly felt ready when Elvis told you he knew you’d do perfectly–as long as you did what he told you.

“You’ll be there tonight, right?” you asked.

“You might not see me, but I’ll be there,” he promised.

You let out a sigh of relief. “Good, I think I’d cry if you said no.”

“Go on and give ‘em one hell of a show, baby,” he said, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

While you still felt nervous on stage, you didn’t let it get to your head as Elvis’ words the previous night echoed in your mind. They wanna see you do good, baby. That’s what they’re there for. Your backing band went right into your opening song, and to your relief, you started off strong, that confidence staying with you through the rest of your performance. It was fun to watch audience members react to your music, especially the ones who stood up from their tables and started dancing along.

The jokes you and Elvis had come up with were corny, sure, but they got a good reaction from the audience, and even the few you made on the spot landed well. Throughout your performance, you scanned the crowd for Elvis, but he was nowhere to be found. You were disappointed, but didn’t let it show as you introduced your last song of the evening. 

You ended the show to a standing ovation, crying as Chiara handed you a bouquet of flowers from her seat in front of the stage. It went better than you could have imagined, and as the curtain dropped, you hugged every member of your backing band, thanking them for sticking by you despite the rocky start. Backstage was flooded with people fighting for your attention, but Chiara pushed her way through to give you a hug.

“You were amazing! Holy shit, I can’t believe you ever doubted yourself.”

“I couldn’t have done it without Elvis,” you said.

Chiara looked a bit confused, but nodded with a smile anyway as she continued congratulating you. As much as you appreciated everyone’s congratulations and well wishes, there was one person in particular whose opinion you desperately needed. Barely able to slip away from the pandemonium, you found him near the broken elevator. He gave you a dazzling smile when he saw you, making his way over to you.

Elvis pressed a kiss to your forehead before engulfing you in a hug. “You were perfect, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

You beamed at his words, squeezing him tighter against you. “Thank you. You’re coming to the afterparty, right?”

He released you from the hug, giving you an apologetic glance. “I can’t tonight, mama. You have fun. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

When he turned around to leave, a smirk spread across his face at the dejected look you gave him when he told you he wouldn’t be at the party. With every day that passed he became more convinced that you were the companion he needed to keep the loneliness of being one of the undead at bay. He couldn’t rush it, though. The incident with your hand was a risk he had taken far too soon, and he considered himself lucky that you actually enjoyed it instead of being scared away.

The next few months were consumed by you. He spent as much time as possible with you, or would lurk from the shadows to observe jealousy as you socialized with everyone who wasn’t him. You didn’t seem to notice that just about every man who made a pass on you at the hotel’s bar or casino disappeared not long after without a trace. Sooner or later, the message would get across that you were off-limits, and he was perfectly fine feeding on whatever bastard tried to get in his way of being with you.

Your residency was going fantastically, and you even had to work on an encore set because audiences started demanding it. Every time Elvis praised you or told you he was proud of you, it felt like getting struck by a bolt of lightning. Usually you and Elvis would work together before your nightly performances, as you found being around him gave you the confidence and motivation you needed to perform well. 

For one reason or another, the two of you decided to work on one of your days off from performing, but as soon as you got to your dressing room, you regretted it. Knowing whether or not you’d get bad period cramps was a crapshoot, and unfortunately, they were especially bad that day. As much as you tried to mask it from Elvis, he could see right through you.

“You alright, mama?” he asked.

“My cramps are killing me today,” you said, wrapping your arms around your torso. “I took aspirin earlier, but I don’t think it’s helping.”

He responded with a silent, intense stare, and you interpreted his reaction as disgust.

“Don’t be immature. It’s natural.”

“I don’t disagree with you at all,” he said. “You know, opera singers don’t perform when they’re on their periods. Somethin’ about it messin’ with their vocal range.”

“I didn’t know that,” you said, wincing as you sat down to yet another cramp. 

He licked his lips, inhaling through his nose as he added, “You know what really helps with all ‘a that?”

Yes, you knew exactly what he was referring to, and one more than one occasion had masturbated to relieve especially painful period cramps. In fact, you had considered doing so earlier, but you weren’t sure you’d have the time before meeting him. 

His voice was so dark and deep you wanted to drown in its depths when he offered his assistance in alleviating your discomfort. It almost embarrassed you how quickly you agreed and ended up naked on your bed, his head buried between your legs as he lapped at your pussy. You gasped as you felt teeth graze your folds, but nothing more. His moans put the one you’d gotten off to before to shame, you wished you could record it–put it as the backing track for a salacious song like some of the metal bands you indulged in did.

He rubbed your clit with his thumb as he ate you out, his pace relentless as you could feel yourself reaching orgasm. Still, it wasn’t enough; you needed more. Sometimes you liked to drag things out, edge a bit to amplify the pleasure when you finally did come. In this instance, however, you allowed your greediness and desperation to guide you.

“Elvis,” you whined. “Elvis—fuck, faster.” 

Elvis. You wished you knew his real name, feeling like an idiot helplessly moaning the name of a dead rockstar while getting eaten out by a man almost twice your age who dressed like him for a living. Regardless, you carded your fingers through his greased up black hair, pressing his face closer against your cunt. Just weeks ago you would have considered the thought of this disgusting, but now, seeing your blood on his face only turned you on, and you were too determined to find release to even begin thinking about what that said about you. 

An all-consuming ecstasy sent white-hot waves of pleasure through your body that verged on being painful. More intense than anything you’d ever felt before, the moan you let out was guttural, coming from a place of depravity inside you that you weren’t aware existed. You couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, only feel as you orgasmed and then promptly passed out on the bed.

Still in your state of unconsciousness, Elvis continued eating you out like a man possessed. Truly, he may as well have been, because every time he tried to pull away, the taste of your blood on his tongue went right through him, until finally, he had to force himself to stop. His eyes gazed over the blood that was smeared on your body, and he swore he’d never seen anyone so beautiful in his life. Cursing himself for not having a camera to capture the state of obscenity he’d left you in, he made a mental note to keep one for next time. 

Feeding had become sexual, the release he craved in lieu of actually being able to fuck, one of the things he missed most about being human. Taking blood, taking life sent orgasm-esque waves of pleasure through his undead body that he long since stopped feeling guilty for. If tearing someone’s throat out was sex, going down on a woman when she was on her period was foreplay, the least he could do before the inevitable. 

As you lay unconscious beneath him, he reached out, gently caressing your warm cheek. He didn’t want to kill you, it’d be such a waste. Between your beauty and talent, he finally felt close to the sun as he could in his endless night. There was no way of knowing if anyone like you would cross paths with him again, and so, resisting the instinct he’d developed, he pressed a bloody kiss to your cheek before leaving to find a way to satiate his bloodlust before sunrise. Just his luck, she looked almost like you. 

The late morning sun peaked through your curtains, waking you up to your bed looking like you’d been murdered in it. You felt nauseous with embarrassment at the thought of housekeeping seeing, let alone cleaning, your sheets. Elvis was nowhere to be found, and while you figured as much, you still found yourself disappointed by his absence. Knowing the ‘do not disturb’ sign was still on the door handle outside your room, you hoped a quick shower would help you brainstorm what to do with your damn sheets. 

Your legs wobbled beneath you as you tried to stand up, stumbling like a fawn into your bathroom. As soon as you flipped on the lights, your eyes widened at the state of the lower half of your body. Dried blood smeared across your thighs and legs, and as you turned to inspect the damage, you could see where Elvis had held your hips from the bloody fingerprints that painted your skin. 

Using the wall for support, you closed your eyes as you let the shower run until the water was warm to the touch. The blood didn’t immediately wash off your body as you’d hoped. Instead, you had to scrub to get it off, watching the rust-colored water pool at the drain. Even expending this bit of energy exhausted you even more than you already were. Throwing your washcloth aside, you sat down on the shower floor, resting your head on your knees until the water turned cold. 

You got out of the shower, drying yourself off with a towel before putting on your bathrobe. Standing in front of your bed with your hands on your sore hips, you still had no idea what you were going to do with your sheets. In a fit of nervous adrenaline, you grabbed them and ran out of your room to the nearest laundry chute, sending them down in hopes the sight of them wouldn’t trigger a homicide investigation.

When you met Elvis at your usual time, in your usual spot, later that night, he greeted you warmly with a kiss to your forehead, pleased to hear you were feeling better. You had so many questions, especially about the previous night, but unsure of how to articulate them, went about business as usual as he continued to mentor you through your residency. 

The intimacy that you had developed with Elvis confused you. He wasn’t your boyfriend, yet he’d become frighteningly irate and disagreeable when you’d mention interest in other men, even in passing. Calling him your lover felt odd, as the only time the two of you did anything remotely sexual was when you’d be on your period, and he’d ravage you like it was his last meal and then act like nothing happened. The two of you were far too close for you to brush the relationship off as casual—casual had long since up and gone in the context of you and Elvis. 

No one knew about him, though. He had asked you not to tell anyone about him, and whenever it seemed like someone would find the two of you out in some way, they either diverted course or he successfully disappeared into the shadows. Despite all of the time you spent with him, you hardly knew anything about him, long since giving up asking him any personal questions since he’d answer as if he were Elvis himself. 

You could admit to yourself that the situation was fucked up. There was nothing normal about it, and you almost wondered how you ended up in that spot in the first place. Still, you weren’t sure if your residency would be as successful without him. Whenever you incorporated one of his suggestions into the show or followed the direction he gave, Chiara would tell you that critics were raving about the changes, and audiences couldn’t get enough—that much was true, as you found yourself having to work out elaborate encores. No one wanted you to leave. At the same time, the rest of the world was growing restless at your residency being confined to Las Vegas.

Chiara had excitedly approached you one evening before your first show of the night with a small stack of papers. As you flipped through them, she explained that your label had put together a report of cities with the most interest in you bringing your show to them as well as offers from international venues that wanted you to perform. Finally, she added that the label had pre-approved your next three albums—so long as you accompanied each one with a show similar to your Vegas one. 

It was almost too much to take in at once. The money would be unbelievable, though, especially the international venues which were offering amounts that made your eyes nearly pop out of your head. The next decade of your career was practically set, and you gladly joined Chiara when she brought you to the hotel bar, ordering a bottle of champagne for the two of you to split in celebration.

You wouldn’t have to worry about a thing again, and you knew a large part of that had to do with Elvis. Breaking the news to him wouldn’t be easy, as Chiara had made no mention of him in the plans she had thrown out about your tours, and you wanted to keep true to your word that you wouldn’t bring him up. You supposed it meant he was only helping you during the residency and nothing more.

He was taken aback when you sheepishly told him the following night about the label’s offer and the plans to tour.

“I wanted to thank you for everything,” you said. “Chiara said the label wants me to take the show on tour–”

“You’re leaving?”

“I still have two weeks left of shows, but I couldn’t have done it without you. I mean, I’m pretty much set for life.”

He scoffed. “I’m sure you are. Let me tell you somethin’ mama. There are people out there who ain’t as nice as I am, ain’t lookin’ out for you the way I do.”

“Do you want me to just stay here forever?”

He shook his head, storming out of your dressing room. You didn’t see him again for several days following that altercation. Ever since you gave him the news about ending your residency, his direction was hostile and he withheld the usual praises he poured on you. During your last few nights of shows, he disappeared again, to your frustration.

You couldn’t bring him with you, no rational way to explain the odd relationship you had with Elvis. Chiara had hired him to mentor you, not be your overbearing–fuckbuddy? lover? bootycall? Not to mention, if he was this volatile, you weren’t sure the rest of your team would appreciate having him around. Still, the thought of leaving him made your chest ache. You’d miss him terribly, as much as it pained you to admit it. 

You sat in your dressing room after the second to last night of shows during your residency. When you heard the door open and then close behind you, you could tell by the sound of the footfall that it was him. You almost wanted to chew him out for ignoring you the past few days, but when you turned around, he beat you to the punch.

“Y/N, I’ve been thinkin’ about it, your tour and everything,” he said. “Well, you’re not goin’ on it.”

You scoffed, after how he’d been treating you, now he suddenly cares again? “I don’t think that’s for you to decide.”

He smiled, in on a secret you were about to find out. “See, that’s the thing, it is.”

“And what sway would an Elvis impersonator have over my career?”

“I’m no impersonator, mama. I’m the real deal.”

Before you could respond, he bared his teeth, revealing unnaturally sharp canines. Your heart leapt to your throat, which you covered with a hand. Like stars that had aligned, everything made sense to you—his odd behavior, all of the anomalies in his stories and excuses, and most of all, his sexual inclinations. Just as quickly, those stars exploded into an uncontrollable supernova that overtook your mind as the reality of the situation caught up to you. Whether he killed you or turned you, you were going to die.

Your lip trembled as he approached you, hunger in his eyes and the slightest hint of a smile on his face. Using his finger to lift your head, he leaned down and kissed you slowly, sensually. Though the sensation made you feel dizzy, you couldn’t help but keen into his touch, opening your mouth the slightest bit to allow him access, to take what he wanted. If this was the face of death, you welcomed him with open arms.

“You wanna stay with me, don’t you, baby?” he whispered. “Want me to keep you all to myself?”

“Yes,” you breathed, gasping as his sharp fangs poked at your bottom lip. “Elvis, please.”

He grinned, pressing a kiss to your lips. “How can I say no when you ask so nicely?”

He pulled away from you, wrapping an arm around your waist, and without protest you allowed him to guide you to the broken elevator. He pulled a key out of his pocket, turning the access lock next to the elevator doors, which suddenly came to life as they opened before you. The button to the penthouse lit up when he pressed it, and you let out a weak laugh at the revelation that the off-limits suite was his.

Taglist: @eliseinmemphis @crash-and-cure @kittenlittle24​ @im-lame-irl @loudwombatmugkid @rxsesss @roseymary04 @queendelrey @jovialladyaurora @positivitylane112 @moonknightswif3 @holy-minseok @datsavageavenger @21bruhs @luckyevansstan @djsjs13949 @butlerslut @ash-omalley @powerofelvis @sad-bisexual-bitch @peachy-deaths @kibumslatina @adoreyouusugar @raefoxiegirl @donnamarie23 @ilovehobi101 @memphis-menace @animeketsu-yander @phhistheloml @dkayfixates

[vanillabat99]

Weekly Horror Movies have finally caught up with me this time.. tonight's movie was not good for me and now I can't go to sleep for awhile. I'm trying not to freak out over it but I'm very upset. Hopefully my mom will be home soon :(

[fable-and-folly]

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Deep in the heart of the Ministry lies the Beast Division: a hidden room where ancient beasts roam, and winged creatures soar, and grumpy giant ferrets eat all your biscuits unless you keep them well hidden. Draco Malfoy would know – he’s been working there for five years now, after all. Meanwhile, on Level One, ex-Golden Boy Harry Potter is stuck in another interminable policy meeting, completely unaware of the mysterious comings and goings just three floors below. But when a giant snake emergency requires the assistance of a Parselmouth, Harry finds himself thrust, unprepared, into Draco’s weird and wonderful world – and naturally, he can’t keep away…

A Lick and a Promise -- @tackytigerfic -- Drarry, 55k, E

Something sinister stirs in Hogwarts! When magical creatures and students at the school are hit with a debilitating blood curse, Minerva McGonagall approaches the Ministry for help. Star Auror Harry Potter seems to be the obvious choice to go undercover—as DADA Professor, naturally. He’s going to need the help of the Ministry’s foremost expert in blood magic to get to the bottom of the mystery, though, and he’s not entirely convinced that going back to Hogwarts with Draco Malfoy is a good idea. Things are complicated between them—what’s new?—but they know they have to learn to work together (and keep their hands off each other in the corridors) in order to solve this case. Luckily for them, Hogwarts itself wants to lend a hand. A tale of love, lessons, and learning to really live.

The Beauty of Thestrals and Other Unseen Things -- @writcraft -- Drarry, 63k, E

Harry has terrific friends, an amazing girlfriend and his job as Head Auror enables him to work on challenging cases and Ministry reform. He just wishes he could work out why he’s been so out of sorts. When Draco Malfoy is arrested for gross indecency, Harry’s comfortable life begins to unravel. He’s forced to decide if it’s worth risking everything for love in a world where following his heart is a criminal offence.

Nocturne -- @necromanticnoir -- Snarry, E, 54k

A Gothic Snarry version of ‘Beauty and the Beast’, inspired by the dark and sensual tale from the Czech film version, ‘Panna a Netvor’. I follow some of the plot, but then diverge and do my own thing. Got to make it even weirder, right? An eerie, erotic, brooding, bloody, batty, haunting fairytale. ‘Underneath my skin there’s a human. Buried deep within there’s a human. Despite everything, I’m still human.’ - ‘Human’ by Daughter

A Guide to the Morphology of Magic -- orphaned -- Drarry, 64k, E

When Draco Malfoy is hand picked to investigate a string of curses cropping up in Muggle communities in North America, the last person he wanted to be traveling with was Harry Potter. Still, duty calls, and the two set off on an adventure chasing down mysterious curses, sleeping in cramped hotel rooms, and trying to navigate their newly formed post-War selves as they make their way through small towns and long, dark stretches of highway.

Soup-pocalypse and the Great Curry Cataclysm -- SquadofCats -- Drarry, 104k, E

Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.

Star Quality -- who_la_hoop -- Drarry, 118k, E

Two years after the war, and Harry’s content with his life. OK, so it’s a little annoying that he keeps winning Witch Weekly’s Most Eligible Bachelor award, and he’s really not looking forward to the unveiling of an enormous gold statue of himself, but he loves his friends, and he loves being an Auror. And if he yearns for something more, something he can barely bring himself to think about, well, he’ll probably get over it. No one’s happy all the time, are they? But then everything changes, and Harry’s thrown into a new and dazzling world he’s not sure he can actually escape from. And as time goes on, he starts to wonder: does he actually want to?

By the Grace -- @letteredlettered -- Drarry, 139k, T

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

On the Deficiency of Translation Spells -- @liladiurne -- Snarry, 41k, E

Divorced, single, and free, Harry lives a completely unapologetic life in Paris. Between casual hook-ups and an easy, comfortable job, he likes to think he is as close to happiness as he'll ever be. And when he gets offered a teaching job at the prestigious Académie Beauxbâtons, he thinks he may have found exactly what was missing. But Harry is thoroughly unprepared for what he finds there - a familiar face that's been haunting his dreams for six years.

Wild -- orphaned -- Drarry, 92k, E

“No,” Harry said, by way of greeting. Malfoy’s blonde head rose slowly, carelessly. “Get out.” “I feel as though we’ve already established this, Potter,” Malfoy responded. “And I feel that what we established was that you telling me to get out of places really doesn’t make me more likely to vacate them.”

Tapestry -- @kbrick -- Drarry, 91k, E

In 2017, Harry is on his way to Pansy and Luna's beach house. He’s a bit terrified of seeing Draco, to be honest. It’s been a while, and then there’s the little matter of Draco having married someone else in the interim. In 2001, Draco is drunk, wearing Pansy's mother's ermine coat, and afraid to walk into the Leaky because someone might throw a curse at him. So, of course, he runs into his ex-nemesis and hopeless crush, Harry Potter. This is a love story that isn't perfect, about two people whose timing is never quite right, and all the moments that come together to make something extraordinarily beautiful anyway.

The Secret of the Philosopher Stone -- @yletylyf -- Snoldemort, 115k, E

Voldemort gets the Philosopher's Stone, but finds himself trapped at Hogwarts and in need of rescue. Loyal Death Eater Severus Snape is on the job, but even he is not quite prepared for Lord Voldemort to return as Tom Riddle with a patched-up soul and no interest in war. And as for Tom? Well, it's not so easy to stop being a domestic terrorist.

The Left Words -- authoresswithoutwords -- Tomarrymort, 234k, E

Harry has some weird words on his left wrist. That must be one of those strange things that Aunt Petunia hates so much. But it's okay! He likes them. Then, it all turns even weirder. Hogwarts, magic, a Headmaster and a Dark Lord await Harry - he would prefer if they all just left him alone, thank you very much. But when has it ever mattered what Harry wants?

When the Rose and the Fire Are One -- @perverse-idyll -- Snarry, 81k, E

Harry's haunted by guilt. Snape's warded by roses. Each must free the other in order to free himself.

[lostloveletters]

i love woody💕 running from her past and into brady’s arms hmm😏

I'm so glad you like Woody! She's a lot harder on her past self than she should be. In her mind there's a distinct line between Kate (evil) and Woody (good) which is a gross oversimplification, but helps her shake off any shame she feels toward how she used to live her life because that's a totally different person. In time she'll learn to be easier on herself, but she's trying and that's what matters🖤

🦇 Battie

[belladovah]

hi bella, hope you're well! I'm a big fan of your mods, and I was wondering how the trait-based less autonomous fighting one is coming along? totally understand if you're busy with real life, but I'd love to play with even a beta version of it as the constant violence in my game is driving me batty.

Hello, thank you, that's lovely to hear🥰 It's good to know that you are interested! I actually had a good working version of it in my game for quite some time and it certainly did help to reduce fighting. However, I held off sharing it because I wanted to patch in Lenna's Fight Fix, and I was also unsure if I should include features for some other negative interactions like insult, torment, tease, gross out, noogie, belch at, Annoy/Nyah Nyah or to just leave it with what I have so far. I think I should probably just get on uploading it as-is soon!

[battylite]

hi batty, i've been binge-reading "franz kafka, frank zappa" this summer and first off, its phenomenal, seriously -- and secondly, i was wondering if you listened to a particular group of albums or artists when writing it? i'm...so obsessed with the vibes of that particular fic. (im assuming nf!r was in the rotation? :))

hi, thanks so much and I'm so glad you've enjoyed it!! There should a playlist that's linked at the end of the fic (probably end of the last chapter?) but that was more of an exercise in storytelling than what I was actually listening to then. There's a few that will probably be repeats to what I'll put below.

First off, yeah, Norman fucking Rockwell. I don't think I can say anything about this album that hasn't been said elsewhere, but in brief: LDR has always been really good at writing cohesive albums and being purposeful in how she arranges her songs, but this album really elevated her as a storyteller. She's been an interesting artist to follow because her albums have always seemed to be a reflection of her personally, and in NFR! she takes her character seriously, like, as an adult, in a way that isn't true for any of her previous albums. As far as story goes, I still appreciate that whether she's still involved with the person she's writing about in the first half of the album by the end is ambiguous. You could argue either way or that it doesn't matter.

Honorable mention to the first half of Father John Misty's I Love You, Honeybear (title track through Nothing Good Ever Happens; I emphasize the title track and hesitate to include Strange Encounter, which says something). FJM is such a clever writer; this album is so nihilist and gross at times and then romantic at others, and the fact that he's both so good at juggling them and will also give you whiplash is so impressive. I think I could take pieces of my NFR! and rename them ILYH. A couple of other relevant FJM songs: Buddy's Rendezvous, Nancy From Now On, Hangout at the Gallows (the Gallows also used to be a bar in Boston, not that I think that has any relevance to FJM)

Second honorable mention to Glass Animal's Dreamland; the whole album is a really good piece of storytelling, but I would say only the first and final songs are relevant here. Mostly because the title track (Dreamland) was definitely an inspiration, and because (spoiler but not really) the final track (Helium) is connected so masterfully to the first. Both great good examples of tone and atmosphere done really well.

I might add more thoughts/explanation to this later, but those are my quick thoughts, and a few one-off songs:

Mine to Miss -- American Football

Georgia -- Vance Joy

Mariette -- Mark Kozelek

One More Second -- Matt Berninger

Doubt (demo version) -- Hippocampus

Sweetheart and The Last -- Long Beard

Demi Moore -- Phoebe Bridgers

Calgary Girls -- The Smith Street Band

I don't know if this is what you were looking for or the vibe you thought you would get but this was an interesting thing to think about for me so thanks again!

[undertale-writing-times]

I'm curious about Batty and Wings, what are they like?

They're both vampires :) as, you know, expected.

Batty is shockingly sweet but he's good at making people think that he sees them as friends, even if he doesn't. He is the older of the two and turned his brother when they were younger and the reason being, he knew his brother would have died if not.

He's very good at reading people and has a lot of people that see him as weak and easily hurt so they're protective of him, even though he's someone that could easily kill his friends. He does it for protective reasons, you know? He sleeps during the day and goes out at night more often than anything.

Wings! Wings on the other hand knows that he's a vampire and that he should be dangerous, but he loves talking to people. He wears a lot of sunblock and drinks animal blood and because of that, he's able to walk around during the day. He hates the taste of animal blood, though, cause it tastes really gross.

He wants friends and wants to hang out with people, but a lot of people are unnerved by him, mostly because he just goes too hard sometimes.

(I'm kinda leaving it open if they're human or if they're skeletons lol)

[cantstoptheimagines]

SHOWS: The O.C., Criminal Minds, Reservation Dogs, Ugly Betty, My So-Called Life, Only Murders in the Building, Heartbreak High (original OR reboot), Warrior Nun, Friday Night Lights, Gilmore Girls, Psych, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, H2O: Just Add Water, One Tree Hill, Greek, and (finally) Dance Academy

MOVIES: A League of Their Own, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, Hook, Warm Bodies, Empire Records, Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris, House Bunny, FernGully: The Last Rainforest, John Tucker Must Die, To Wong Foo (Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar), Superbad, Whiplash, and Sydney White

so sorry if you've seen most of these lol, and sorry i know it's a lot 😭

thank you, my love! and don't apologize lol, i love it when ppl send me really long asks <3 here's the ones i've seen if you want to know what i think of them. the others were added to my list of things to check out

hook — shameless rufio stan. can't watch the bangarang food fight scene tho, i think it's so gross and i have to skip it every time lol

warm bodies — hilarious, love this one lmao. i've never read the book tho, so i might do that

ferngully — 10/10, love the batty rap. robin williams is top tier in this one, he did a good thing telling disney to shove it when they tried to make him quit this one <3

superbad — unpopular opinion, but i didn't like it lol. it's just not my style of movie. i'm glad ppl who like it found something that they enjoy tho <3

criminal minds — perfect, no notes lol, i love crime shows

warrior nun — 10000/10, the show of our generation, so angry it got canceled just bc netflix doesn't know what marketing is

friday night lights — i actually haven't seen this one, but i don't care about american football whatsoever, so idk if i would actually like it

gilmore girls — liked it, definitely a classic

buffy the vampire slayer — sarah michelle gellar could kick me in the face and i'd say thank you <3 one of my faves

h2o — incredible, showstopping, perfect, wow! nothing like a trio of girls diving into the ocean in very public locations where no one seems concerned at all lmaooo! if you haven't seen the spinoff, mako mermaids, you should watch that one <3

[hypocriticaltypwriter]

sorry for asking 2 questions in one day but I NEED to info dump rq !!!

Batty keeps eating the oozsquitoes, so he keeps mutating, making him incredibly strong. And animalistic. So he goes rabid sometimes:).

I head canon that Karai and her siblings have a secret language of chirps, grunts and hiss’ they use to communicate.

Batty is a good singer, but cannot dance for his life. He will just shuffle awkwardly.

Although Batty would like to be romantic, he’s far too shy to actually do anything like cuddling and heaven forbid a kiss; but he’ll still make a card or two. And maybe some flowers. And maybe some cookies-

He’s a good artist, doing mostly doodles and bad portraits because he’s never been able to explore his talent/passion.

Patrick is incredibly flexible too, being able to catch, hold and even draw with his feet!

Patrick doesn’t use his wings that much so they’re often cramped.

During the winter, all the Hamatos take turns cuddling him and using him as a blanket. Even CJ (Casey Jr.) has gotten in on this trend. As much as Batty wants to complain, he likes to be hugged by everyone.

Patrick is a very mixed sleeper. He will either sprawl himself out (when he’s extremely comfortable or with someone he trusts), or will do the “put in a coffin” pose. But when he’s EXTREMELY comfortable he will do the bat-burrito wrap. (Usually, Karai is in the middle of the wrap.)

Batty is on the spectrum, so he finds it hard to express his emotions. He doesn’t know why he wants to flap his wings and hands around wildly when he sees something that makes him happy, but he doesn’t do it out fear. (Btw; this will be a plot point in a little one shot.)

Patrick is surprisingly good with kids, despite being cold on the outside, he has a real soft spot.

Patrick’s wings act like 2nd hands! But, they’re not useful for actual things.

I think Karai has a scar on her back from a Kraang attack (image below ⬇️)

Batty, at first, had a huge rip in his wing from being hurt by a Kraang, but Karai patched him up and now he can fly again!

Patrick used his wings to group hug up to 7 people, if we squish.

Patrick can speak 2 languages: English (fluid) and Brazilian (almost fluid). His mother used to speak Brazilian to him, and he gradually learned. unfortunately, he doesn’t have an accent.

I head canon Niccolo as nonverbal, using hand signs and churrs to communicate to his siblings. I also really like the dynamic of mute/nonverbal (nicolo) and the one person that understands them completely (jago).

Patrick, (when he finally learns that maybe stimming isn’t bad), gets whole body wiggles and puffs up.

Textures, but more specifically sounds, is something that really bothers Batty. Like, nails scraping against asphalt is just a big “UGH GET IT AWAY FROM ME” thing. He also gets really itchy when he’s uncomfortable, sleepy or upset.

Patrick’s hair is really unclean. He licks himself on a daily basis, but unfortunately he can’t reach the top of his head, so his hair is always gross. Also, he never really learned self care tactics or how to wash, so that was fun to learn:).

Tamsin basically adopted him immediately. Like, the full “This is my son now, if anything happens to him I’m going to kill everyone in this room and then myself.”

Patrick gets jealous easy! I know, I know, crazy! But, he just can’t help but let the thoughts get to him. (Watch out, Karai, there’s going to be a lot of overprotective snuggling.)

As much as Karai doesn’t see it, Batty thinks she’s absolutely beautiful. Almost always staring at her with adoring eyes. He often gets lost in daydreams and other places.

Once, Batty found a post card from Paris, and that’s all he would dream about for a week. Then Karai came a long and now Karai in Paris is all he could dream about.

Batty is about above average height, stand in around 5” 7’. His wing spans is almost 7 feet, though, only looking smaller because he folds them up very tight.

Batty has literally never eaten food before, like, ever. He’s never tasted anything besides mutant silverfish and leaves.

(Should probably mention for future reference; Batty comes from the Scavengers, a group that hard working tech to sell off to less fortunate people. So, when the resistance in the scavengers come together, Donnie was given a HUGE pile of working tech! iPhones, video cameras, old TVs, remotes and even a Nintendo Switch!)

OKAY FACTS OVER QUESTION TIME🪄

Does the Resistance have a garden? Because you mentioned about how Tamsin was cooking, and more specifically chopping, so that got me wondering.

Did Donnie replicate the Anti-Kraang formula? Because I saw that it’s an “organic-based shield” so I was thinking the blue stuff from the beginning of the movie, Donnie replicated and is continuing to make and give to people across the country.

Is there any fresh water, or do they have to travel to the Great Lakes/ocean to get it?

What Karai look like as a human? Or her brothers turtles?

Do they have working cellphones or do they use radios?

Does Karai have oldest daughter syndrome? I just feel like helping your mom out at such an early age would give Karai some kind of pressure to always watch after her siblings. (Not talking from experience, if that’s what you’re wondering.)

What’s the kids favorite tv show?

Do any of the kids like to draw?

Do they go on missions by themselves to prove that they’re not too young? (Feels like that’s a David thing to do.)

Has Mikey gone full “mystic meditation; dni unless emergency” or is he still part of the group?

Does Leo still blame himself? Do all of them blame themselves?

Anyway, sorry for info dumping, I just needed to tell you!!! And ask some questions since they were on my mind. Don’t forget to drink water and eat food. I will make you eat your veggies if I have too.

-Lord Freg💛💛

My my, you just love making me want to info dump about my AU and ocs and I love you so much for it 👀

AND NOW YOUVE GIVEN ME ACESS TO SO MUCH FLUFF AND ANGST STORIES/ART WITH BATTY??? YES PLEASE 🖐✊️🖐✊️

Had me giggling and kicking my feet with how much Batty likes Karai, my SOUL left my body/pos about the Paris thing

Also, Karai does have scars on her back from a Krang attack! (Hey that rhymes) She got them when she was super little though.

Now, to answer your questions!!

Does the Resistance have a garden? 🌱

Yes! Yes it does! It took a few years to find some way to grow any food I'm the conditions of the apocalypse, but Donnie and Mikey were the ones who were able to discover a way to nourish and keep soil +food alive!

Its also a big greenhouse that I'm trying to think wether is inside the base, or out somewhere, but it's a safer chance for it to be inside lol.

Fun fact: Mikey spends a lot of time in the greenhouse If he's not meditating or practicing his mystic abilities. Niccolo loves hanging out with his favorite uncle (dont tell Leo) in the greenhouse, which is where the boy has grown a huge liking for plants! He likes how he and his uncle can spend time without too much chatter or anything too over stimulating for him, it's just his pace.

Note: you're headcanon of Niccolo is 100% correct! The same goes for Maggie, who usually only communicates with chirps or churrs alike- except she doesnt know how to talk.

She has a hard time grasping how to speak, and just gets her little mind stressed put if she doesn't get it right, so she keeps to herself with different ways of communicating.

Did Donnie Replicate The Anti-Krang Formula? 🔋

As a matter of fact, yes he did! Well-kind of.

We know the movie, April steals some of the plant killing stuff, and in the original timeline, she probably showed it to someone, specifically Donnie.

I feel whilst trying, and failing to figure anything put for this sheild, Donnie is near ready to give up until April shows him something she's had on her for a while.

She carried the smallest- and I mean smallest vile of the blue substance, around her neck, she'd always had it just in case since that little of it could knock out Prime krang if she wanted it to.

So, with that to work off of, Donnie got to studying and crafting!

Is There Any Fresh Water? 💦

Sadly no, they do have to travel to get most of it, which is only a weekend trip that either Raph and Mikey go do, seeing they can carry tons of water supply back with them, but that doesn't make it any less tricky...

What Karai Look Like As A Human? Or Her Brothers Turtles? 🐢

I actually have a pic of Karai human! Still have to draw the brothers... But if imma be honest the boys would probabl all lookthe same 😅minus different colored markings.

Do They Have Working Cellphones? 🌐

Nope! All cellular towers and such were brought down by the krang. They do communicate via radios, Donnies tech wristbands, and like, you know those hologram things in StarWars? Kinda like that if they need to call someone.

Im also gonna answer the Kids Fav TV show question while we're here too.

Since there's no internet and such, they're reduced to either shows Donnie has saved on tapes, or VHS Splinter had kept over the years. (Thank Heavens he kept that old VHS player 🙏)

Their favorite shows range from like-3 episodes of Bluey to Black Cauldron on VHS LMAO.

Does Karai Have Oldest Daughter Syndrome?💝

Afraid so, it's obvious it was bound to happen when she was told help out her mom while Donnie was gone... And she may have taken that a bit too close to heart.

In fact, Tam or Don never pressured the 'Eldest Daughter' idea on Karai, her thinking she was supposed to be the oldest, supposed to be the one who handled all her siblings. Even when Donnie came home, she's just a bit ancy to help put in any way, feeling like she's useless if she doesn't.

Do Any Of The Kids Like To Draw? 🖋

Oh definetly! I think David and Niccolo enjoy it more than others since they can express themselves through it more.

Do They Go On Missions Themselves?🏕

When their older? Yes. At their age now? Absolutely not on Donnies watch. He watches them like a hawk if they decide to go rogue without him or any adult watching them.

They have gone with their dad or mom to like- visit other bases, or even go with their uncles for trading, water, or supply-but NEVER by themselves.

David has tried but he always gets caught... Same goes for Karai.

Has Mikey gone full “mystic meditation; dni unless emergency” 🤔

If this question takes place after Donnie has gone, yes. Rarely is he ever seen out of his room-only popping here and there to say hello and check in, but that's like-only once every two months.

Niccolo misses his uncle, and he cries a lot about it, so much so Tam has to find the boy leaning against his uncles door in tears, it breaks her heart.

Does Leo still blame himself? Do all of them blame themselves? 💔

Can you even call it a ROTTMNT AU if their isn't any Leo angst? Lol but seriously, yes, they allblame themselves for the invasion, Leo the most.

A lot of them blame themselves for many things during the apocalypse too, Donnie blames himself for Karais Krang injury, Mikey for a mission gone wrong, where he couldn't save a labor camp, Raph for feeling like he's falling the older brother role- a lot of angst coming yalls way.

And I think that's all of them! TYSM for the asks I loved exploring into some of my Future AU stuff! Especially the guys since I haven't done much to dig deeper in their characters :]

[beeps-bot]

The “How did I not work this out sooner?!” List

I've made light-hearted references to this list existing ever since coming to the realisation that I'm a robot. I figured I should make it real.

This is in addition to robot identity being, on a deeply personal level, incredibly self-affirming. It feels good to think of myself a robot, it feels good to be seen as a robot by others, it feels like a coalescence of decades of weird thoughts and personality quirks that I otherwise had no explanation for—and that's really the most important part of any of this.

This list will probably be expanded as I continue to remember things. They're in no particular order.

(Warning: There are a couple of references to sexual acts and medical subjects.)

As a pre-teen, had vivid dreams about being revealed that I was a robot disguised as a human, enough so that I took these dreams to be literal for several years.

Continued to have occasional robot or robot-adjacent dreams since then too.

Most other dreams I have are in third-person, I am not inhabiting my human body, simply watching what it is doing.

Pretty much life-long fascination with robot-related media. From The Iron Giant to Pacific Rim, Robot Wars to Robot Arena, it's all good.

Favourite characters in many pieces of media have been robots or cyborgs (e.g. Data in Star Trek: The Next Generation, Batty Koda in FernGully, Marvin in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.)

Avid enjoyer of music about being robotic, like The Robots by Kraftwerk, Technologic by Daft Punk, and Prototype by Glaze/WoodenToaster.

Got an entire playlist of music about being a robot, actually...

Designed and built simple or conceptual robots for fun when I was teen-aged. Was pretty darn good at it.

At a regional schools STEM event, built and programmed a robot faster than anyone at both that and any previous event.

Been a sex-repulsed asexual pretty much my whole life. Have never experienced physical attraction.

Usually feel pretty grossed out during/after masturbation too.

Hell, even pooping is pretty gross.

Been into computers ever since family first acquired one when I was about ten. Started teaching myself programming at around age 12.

So into computers that my mother often jokes that I was born holding a computer.

Given pretty much every piece of technology I've owned a name. Have always refused to throw them away when I no longer need them.

Generally enjoy being surrounded by technology and wearable technology, and being able to control it in unconventional ways. Have also automated my home as much as my tenancy permits.

An OC I've used occasionally from 2018 to the present day is a robot puffin.

My fursona from 2008 to 2018 was a cyborg bat.

My fursona from 2020 to the present day has been a robot bat.

My fursona being a robot was initially meant to be temporary. She stayed that way for 10 months before I made it permanent because I preferred her that way.

Considered making a protogen OC rather than making that change permanent, but being a full-on robot instead of a cyborg just felt better.

Actually cried when the Opportunity Mars rover stopped working.

Actually cried when I saw a model of the failed Beagle2 Mars lander in The Science Museum.

ASIMO is just such a good bean, oh my god. Sad that Honda is discontinuing work on it :<

In 2013, I wrote a public letter in which I came out as panromantic, asexual, and agender. Within that letter I acknowledged at length that I had extreme physical dysphoria relating to being human, did not associate myself well with humanity, and (at least somewhat) associated with being a machine. Still not sure how this didn't click sooner.

Have a habit of optimising tasks (and the ordering of tasks) to optimise efficiency.

Have a habit of moving in rigid, jerky motions.

Have a habit of copying and mirroring the speaking style of automated announcement systems.

Three of the four online usernames/identities I've had over the years (robomilk, querkmachine, batbeeps) have referenced robots or machinery. The one that didn't was used for the shortest time, and is only still present on a single profile, where I can't change it.

My personal (not the one listed publicly in various places) email address also references machines.

Incredibly adverse to doctors and medical interventions. Horrified by basically anything entering my body (needles, surgery, etc.)

Conversely, would love the ability to non-invasively change body shape, swap out limbs, etc.

So adverse to seeing doctors that I started self-medicating HRT using grey market meds because I couldn't bring myself to obtain them through 'legitimate' means (even though I was only 1-2 appointments away from doing so).

Go into shock if I cut myself badly.

So dysphoric about my human body that I only own a single mirror, which I avoid looking at unless I need to for some reason.

Have a habit of running 'diagnostics' by very consciously moving physical extremities in specific ways (e.g. curling and uncurling each finger on a hand in turn).

Changed CAPTCHAs to read "I am a robot" as a bit of a silly joke. Kept it because it made me feel good.

Got my Twitter account flagged as an automated/bot account as another silly joke, two days before actually realising I was robot-identifying.

Kind of scared of ageing. Have often joked that I would die before I would reach [insert major age milestone here].

One week I had lost my voice and we were due to play D&D, so naturally I wired the microphone input up to a text-to-speech program instead. Considered continuing to do that for future sessions too.

I dance a pretty mean robot.

During my teens I put on voices and accents. Constantly. Basically every sentence I said sounded like it came from somewhere else, like my ability to speak was just audio samples being mixed together.

In a similar vein, I also enjoy singing along to heavily-sampled and remixed songs (like "Frontier Psychiatrist" by The Avalanches and "Ride on Time" by Black Box), which humans shouldn't really be able to sing along to.

I've karaoke'd chiptunes.

Around 2012 I was, like many website developers, trying to cultivate a personal brand identity to sell myself under. The logo I made at the time consisted of the silhouette of a head with a gear in it. I happened to resume using that logo a few months prior to recognising my machine identity.

In 2014, I was questioning whether I was transgender or not. I published a post on Reddit questioning my feelings, part of which included once again identifying myself as "some sort of android" and that I considered my body "nothing more than a broken shell that I would very much like not to have".

[recentlyheardcom]

Warner Bros. Pictures has just recently released the official trailer for their new horror flick, The Curse of La Llorona. The film is based on a ‘weeping woman’, as one character calls her in the trailer, La Llorona, who haunts small children. And the trailer does succeed in giving you shivers on some moments. And for those who are thinking otherwise, this movie is not related to The Conjuring universe. Just because it’s distributed by Warner Bros. and New Line Cinema and produced by James Wan. But still, nothing official has been revealed regarding its association with James Wan’s The Conjuring series. It may or may not be connected. But its timeline and story setting are very similar to that of other Conjuring films, like Annabelle. The Curse of La Llorona is based in the year 1973, in Log Angeles. Must Read: Movie Review: Batti Gul Meter Chalu starts low at Box-Office Who knows if later on, it’s revealed that this one is, in fact, another entry into the blockbuster franchise established by Wan, since 2013. There have been 5 movies in total so far in the horror series, with the last one being The Nun, which was released last month, in September, and became the biggest grossing film in Conjuring universe ever-despite not being very good at reviews. It was all purely due to the tag of being a part of that franchise. Well, The Curse of La Llorona movie is directed by Michael Chaves and stars Linda Cardellini, Patricia Velasquez, Tony Amendola, Marisol Ramirez, Sean Patrick, and Raymond Cruz in crucial roles. The film will be releasing next year, on April 19 2019. Must READ: WATCH: Dark Phoenix Trailer officially arrives after big leaks!

[venus-haze]

really enjoy your fics, keep up the good work✨ i was wondering if there’s any stuff you like wanna write but are hesitant too? like guilty pleasure type stuff haha

Thank you so much, I'm so glad you like them🖤 As for topics I'm hesitant to write about, aside from my hard "nos" not really? If I feel like I couldn't do something like certain topics or experiences justice in my writing, then I'd be honest about it.

I do have extremely self-indulgent fics that I genuinely just write for me and have no intention of ever posting anywhere. They're just for fun with self-inserty OCs (and also have some very specific gross nasty stuff that I don't think anyone but me would be remotely interested in anyway😅).

🦇 Battie

[vanillabat99]

I really love having long hair, it's so pretty, but I really can't take care of it on my own. I'm going to have to say goodbye to my cute curls and get something short and easy to manage 😔

[anonstormx]

Girls like me

Shigaraki x fem!reader 

(wordcount: 1.7k)

warnings: incel shigaraki, mommy is used a few times (sorry not sorry), cyber sex, one or two cuss words idk, cum eating

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Read on AO3

After learning about an incel forum from my friend I couldn’t fight the temptation to go there myself. When she was showing me screenshots she had taken I acted like I was appalled but in all honesty, I was curious. Later that night I find myself typing in the URL into my computer. 

All of my friends talk about wanting a man who is experienced and dominating but I want the opposite. I want someone untouched and bratty. Someone who isn’t shy but also knows their place in the bedroom.

Scrolling through the forum I knew I found exactly what I’ve been looking for. The top post of the day screams batty energy and puts a smile on my face.

xH4NDZ0FF666x

WOMEN ARE USELESS AND MEN HAVE TO LEARN TO TAKE WHAT THEY WANT> STOP ASKING AND TAKE ANY PUSSY THAT CATCHES YOUR ATTENTION. THAT'S IF ANY ARE EVEN WORTHY 

10,040 upvotes and 6,389 comments  

I click on his icon and start a message thread between us. I go through my photos until I find one of me posing in front of the mirror in a cute lingerie set.

throwaway167: hey sweetie ;) you sound so angry in your recent post maybe I can help you relieve some of that tension 

xH4NDZ0FF666x: is this jay? why would random snatch be on here?

throwaway167: I'm just looking to give someone a good time. maybe that can be you 

I clicked the video call button and wait for someone to answer. To my surprise, he picks up right away and imminently starts ranting about how this isn’t a funny prank. When he looks up at the computer scream and sees me sitting in my gaming chair in a silk robe he shuts his mouth. I notice his room is dark and dirty. I can only really see who I’m talking to because of the glow of the screen. 

“who the fuck are you?” I can tell he was trying to come off as intimidating but I could also hear the fear in his voice. I couldn’t help but giggle at his attempt to scare me. His eyes kept moving down my chest and I decide to give him a peak. My hands softly tease my collarbones and upper breasts. 

“does it even matter who I am? Are you going to turn down willing pussy?” my leg dangles over the armrest of my chair. I untie my robe and lightly push it to the side. He didn't say anything but seeing him squirm in his chair is all the confirmation I need. I pull my knee to my chest so that I expose myself completely to him. 

“you and your friends on this forum are so uptight but lucky for you there are girls like me. Girls who love their men bratty. You gross incels just need some pussy to whip you back into shape." I lose myself in my fantasy and just let the words flow out of my mouth without thinking twice. 

“Are you secretly recording this? going to show your friends and make fun of me?” he stopped trying to intimidate me and was just genuinely curious.

A random girl messages with him to show off her body and he’s not supposed to be curious? It almost feels like a practical joke his friends paying are some girl for but he knows his friends. If they are going to pay for pussy, virtual or not, they are going to keep it for themselves. 

“my friends are not like me. They want an alpha male but that's not what I'm looking for. I love when my men have zero experience with women. I prefer it. You women haters are the easiest to tame. You claim to hate females but all you need is the right one to put you into your place.” I spread myself open so that he can see the inside of my wet cunt. His hoodie is covering his face but the sound of his gasp makes me throb.  

“oh fuck look at you. You look so sexy leaving a mess on your chair. A slut like you came onto an incel forum looking for a man? I never imagined females would be on here using it likes its tinder.” watching me pleasure myself became too much for Shigaraki. He pushed his pants down enough so that he can wrap his hand around his erection and using some lotion that is by his monitor for lubricant. 

“My friend came on here to laugh and showed me some embarrassing screenshots. Well, she thought they were embarrassing. I have a thing for virgins and when I read through the comments talking about how countless women reject them I knew I had to come on here.” I’ve tried suppressing this fantasy for so long that indulging in it leaves me whimpering like a whore. One hand is working my fingers into my pussy while the other is rubbing my clit. I'm three knuckles deep but my fingers aren’t long enough to reach the spot that I know will leave me seeing stars.

“Let's just say I like to do charity work and help men like you. Men who never get the chance to enjoy pussy. It makes me feel so empowered to know I’m their first.” Shigaraki roughly wraps his fist around the base of his erection to stop him from cumming. 

Watching him throb and leak precum throws my senses into overdrive. I start cumming harder than I ever have before and for a second I forget I'm still in a video chat. one hand is squeezing my tits while the other is too tired to move away from my sensitive cunt.

“Woah you’re such a huge slut. I never knew females are so sensitive. You barely touched yourself and already had an orgasm?” The display of me sucking my arousal off my fingers makes his cum. He leans back in his chair and pulls up his hoodie so that he doesn’t get it dirty. I watch in awe as he starts to whimper and moan. He gushes onto his stomach while he struggles to catch his breath. 

“Oh my god, you are so sexy. Is all that cum for me? you’re such a good boy for me. it’s so much I hate for it to go to waste.” I grab a toy I had on my desk just in case my fingers weren’t enough and tease my slit. After getting it slick enough to slide in with zero effort I tease my hole with only the tip of the toy. I pull it out leaving me to throb around nothing.

“I won't let it go to waste if you don't want me to, mommy.” the tone in his voice is nothing like how it was when he first answered my call. Now he sounds like a man who has never gotten validation from a woman. Unsure of what they like or how to please them. 

“oh, baby I would love that. Be good for your mommy and clean yourself up. I don't want you to let any of it go to waste” hearing him sound so needy gives me a power trip. Just this morning he was making posts about how useless women are and now he is licking his cum off of his fingers for me. My pussy is so sensitive and seeing him act so obedient for me turns me on more than I ever have been before. 

“thank you so much, mommy. ill be a good boy for you just please let me see you cum again. You look so pretty when you do. Maybe one day it will be me you’re cumming on instead of a toy. Will you let me do that mommy? will you let me fuck you? please say yes please!” Shigaraki never thought he would be so needy for a random whore. In his head, he imagined the girl would be the one begging but here he is, begging like a pathetic bitch.  

“you’re so pathetic, are you actually begging? After making a post about how women are useless? I don’t think you deserve to fuck my pussy. I bet you don’t even know how to pleasure a woman” his erection is still hard and twitching against his stomach despite already cumming. I can’t hold in my laugh at how pretty and wrecked he looks. His little incel friends would kill to be in his spot despite how much they claim to hate females.

“oh god no please let me at least touch you. I just want to be able to feel you. smell you. please mommy I’m begging you” he fell from his gaming chair and brought his hands together in a prayer pose. He drops to his knees and starts to beg. The sight of him on his knees for me makes me cum so hard. The clenching of my cunt is strong enough to force my toy out. Every time my pussy throbs another gush of squirt hits the floor. 

“oh fuck you look so sexy on your knees for me. Watching you beg like a pathetic whore is exactly what I want to see every time I call you. Now be a good boy and update your post. Tell your incel friends that you were wrong and that your mommy knows best. If you don’t you’ll never get to see me again”  with that I end the call and wait for an update.

xH4NDZ0FF666x

WOMEN ARE USELESS AND MEN HAVE TO LEARN TO TAKE WHAT THEY WANT> STOP ASKING AND TAKE ANY PUSSY THAT CATCHES YOUR ATTENTION. THAT'S IF ANY ARE EVEN WORTHY

UPDATE: I WAS WRONG ABOUT WHAT I SAID BEFORE. WORTHY PUSSY IS OUT THERE AND I’VE SEEN IT. SORRY MOMMY FOR THINKING I KNEW BEST

13,490 upvotes and 7,586 comments 

wmnh8: you found worthy pussy? I don’t believe it......

invlcel: yeah this man is lying. worthy pussy is a myth. 

xH4NDZ0FF666x: maybe my mommy will let me show you what a worthy cunt looks like one day...

throwaway167 is offline

After Shigaraki signed off he still couldn’t believe what has just happened. The only proof that it wasn’t part of his imagination is the message thread and the faint taste of his cum. 

[muffindaddystyles]

SERENDIPITY.

(n), beautiful accidents turning out in beautiful journeys.

Nothing to explain, just Vampire!harry.

Smut, Smut and Smut.

Masterlist , Let's talk about more vampire H!

Author's Note: This's me just testing waters with my fantasy writing skills. It got deleted at first and I had to write everything again with fat sad tears. Tried my best hope ya'll like it. Reblogs are always appreciated and I kinda deserve it for this one *sheepishly*

She ignores whatever he's saying craving the overwhelming feel of stars and flowers when he bites her, "Can you bite me, please?" He startles at that brows skyrocketing.

Giddiness stirring in his stomach and how bad he feels to brush her off, he has to do it for her sake. "Now, that's not an escape ye' should seek fo' right?" He gives her a stern look when she whines throwing her head back.

Or

Y/N interrupts Harry amidst his meal and ends up him clinging to her.

Kittens. One hell of the beasty creatures they're. You'd give them your heart but they'll prefer their two hours sleep over it. Such type of beasty wee landed Y/N into such situation. She's been searching for Meowsie her cat for fifteen minutes now when she heard a feeble cry of an animal. The tall trees with it's roots snatching at soil - the moon at it's peek. Gasping she crouches down for the rescue of a deer with it's fur wrenched in blood. 

When she does so her eyes struck at the sleekness of a pair of loafers stubbing yellow leaves under it. A groan of annoyance whirling in air and gulping she rakes her eyes to find a tall, swiney man staring down at her in offence like she disturbed him. 

He's gorgeous. Features that of greek sculpture with silk kissing it, eyes –well she can't figure them out in her fear. "Who're ye'!?" He snarls and she toppled back on her bum with a squeak, "Aish. should be asking you the same." She shuts her eyelids. He thinks she's very stupid for leisuring in an abnomished forest at this hour of night when every creature's ready to strangle her alive. 

"Who're you?" She emphasizes each word grabbing the broken branch and pointing it towards him mustering some courage not letting her brave cascade waver. 

His first instinct was to say that he's vegan. But, why should he when he's not. He doesn't like lying. 

He steps from under the shadows of trees rims glimmering under the beautiful moonlight, "Could be anythin' ye'r little brain's been thinkin' of." He smirks towering her and scrambles back. Her facial expressions blown out more from the fright he's causing. 

Poor little thing. 

Before, he could fill in her curiosity his prey escapes into darkness gaining his attention. He growls throwing his head at his shoulders — Harry isn't that of tantrum throwing person (a practice of one hundred year has taught him that bitterness brings you nothing) but he's been devastatingly hungry and the feeding clubs grossed him out. 

The smell of grinding bodies, sweat and the combination of different human's blood makes him sick to core rubbing his appetite away. He's bored of them. 

Her sweet glazing auroma calls him to trap her and take a succulent bite out of her but before that she benefited the opportunity running away from him exiting the dark forest only to find Meowsie snuggling inside her bed. 

"You batty creature!" She huffs, "No wonder I'd be found – dead one day because of you." 

With whoever; she bumped in the forest wasn't human at all Y/N thinks. 

.                                  .                                .

She's been fighting her sweet tooth for so long but it's not helping her. She muttered a fuck it before lecturing Meowsie, "No sneaking." When Meowsie meowed bobbing her head she cheered, "Good baby." Like a proud momma. 

It was success. Reaching the nearest store and buying the oreo yogurt to savour it immediately. When she strolled outside gloomy vibe hit her causing her nerves to shudder winter chillness freezing her toes.

The cup hits the pavement and she emits a loud scream as a brutal force rams her in a brick wall. 

A groan of pain rumbling in her chest and she shuts her eyes as a shadowy demon creeps up her calves agonisingly trying to pop her in two. 

Counting on her death when it screeches in horrifying noises being ripped into bits and pieces mercilessly. When she squints her eyes open she finds the mossy jade eyes peering down at her more pissed than he was in the forest, "do ya humans don't sleep at night? Or are ye' a mouse that steals good-ys at night?" He traps her head with his hands on either side of wall and she grumbles at his insult of calling her human. But isn't it what she is? A human? 

"I -- don't be mean." She pouts hissing at the dull ache in her legs and he sighs voice getting gentler, "Can ye' walk?" When she nods he scoffs with a thick accent lips quirking and nose scrunching. He wanted to leave her at it but the scared look on her tightened his chest and he felt his responsibility to walk her home safe and invest if she got hurt. 

"No you can't!" He winds his arms around her encouraging her to put all of her weight on his side as he walks her. "Who're you. And how did ya do that?" She asks with a timid voice. He doesn't want to scare her away but the truth's he's been keeping an eye on her for days. Muttering a curse to himself whenever she'd have her nightly visits without a care for herself. Silly human. 

"Harry." He replies without a care and if it wouldn't be for the pain she's feeling she'd have never let him inside her home. "I can't even eat my yogurt in peace 'cos of you Harry." She reproaches as he sits her on sofa taking her ankles and putting them over his knees. 

[That's how I felt when you interrupted my meal you little pesty thing he wanted to mutter but held back.] 

Taking out the potion Nana gave him that heals painful scars. 

"It'll hurt a bit little mouse." He murmurs pulling out the cork of bubble shaped bottle she flinches, "Don't call me that!" Staring at the way her ripened gnashes disappears in beautiful spirals. "Then stop acting like a coward-y mouse." He stands up looking down at her slumpy with sleep. He shushed her, "'s okay. . ." with each dab feeling sorry for exposing her to his world and now the demon who was manifested without a precise spell thought they're co-related kept lingering around her and well he couldn't leave such an innocent girl to be harmed by evils.

"Not gonna tuck ye' in bed, now." He stands up chin doubling raising his hands in defence albeit he's privy for such actions. Too domestically affectionate for him. 

"Please." She doesn't want to be here on uncomfortable sofa and wants to snuggle inside her blankets. "Fine." He rolls his eyes not giving heed to the angelic details of her home for that it'll create a soft spot in his heart for her. 

His body swimming in her scent once stepping inside her room and he tucks her under quilts grabbing Meowsie akwardly and putting her beside Y/N so she could cuddle with her. He stares her for time and Y/N doesn't hear door shutting and he's out of her bleary vision in a tick 

.                                  .                           . 

White swarms over the crimson in hues with yummy smell spreading everywhere along with the waves of Y/N melodic hum. Meowsie tries to rip the muffin batter and Y/N smacks her paw away ending up having a standoff stare competition with her in the kitchen. 

She literally heard her saying mean mommy. 

Y/N thoughts are all over the place. All she could think of is his's stupid beautiful face and they way his gentle touch made her feel floffy from muscles. He shouldn't pesk her like that. The white chocolate chip pops and she was about to see if they were done when a rasp crawled in her ear making her jump and causing the pyrx bowl to hit the oak counter, "Been thinkin' of meh, lil mouse?" 

"What the fuck. Harry!" She spins sending him into fits of laughter with squeaky scream.

"Not funny. Don't you guys not go somewhere unless invited?" She gasps putting her hand atop her heart and Harry's eyes follows her commotion, "'course we do. Got some manners 'n shite." He scoffs with cupid bow quirked up and nose scrunched. 

"Then where are your manners now?" He smirks at that leaning at her level, "You manifested me s' hard it broke rules." Heat splashes on her cheeks and she notices the intricate details of his features finding them dull and sick than his prior glow. She gasps in shock taking his hands leading him to sofa and sitting him with a push to his shoulders. 

"God. You look terrible what happened?" He gives out a smile at her care throwing his head into headboard cushions, as she scrambles back to kitchen to take out muffins from oven she asks worriedly proper concerned for his health, "Would you like something?" 

A warm mug of delicious bubbling blood thank you very much.

He wanted to mutter but his throat went dry from the headache making him all dizzy. He's been death starving for days now cause his appetite seems to vanish and tongue wouldn't accept any kind of blood since the day he smelled the gush of crimson running inside her veins. 

"Can I bite you?" He regrets the moment it slipped from his tongue. Y/N doesn't seem to mind instead mulls about it for a moment putting two warm hot cocoa milk and red velvet muffins on the lil coffee table. 

"Will it keep you alive?" When Harry closed his eyes in gentle affirmation she cranes her neck to side like she has seen in many movies. "Okay. Go then." He smiles weakly taking her fingers ever so tenderly in his hold and ushering her in his lap. 

"If you wouldn't mind — it'll be more comfortable like this. ." She just nods knees bended on either side of his thighs and his mouth waters at her appetizing sweet smell. He rakes his nose along the curve of her neck swearing that she's made of puddle of how soft her skin's. His senses wrecking havoc as his fangs glistens at the surface grazing against the barrier of her sensitive spot. 

"Aa-a!" She cries out and He pulls her back anxiously brows kinking, "Didn't even bit yet." 

"Surprised is all." She confesses shyly and Harry shakes his head with a silly smile letting her fist the hem of his shirt tight as he wrapped his arm around her waist smushing her closer to him and keeping her head in one place stopping her from squirming..

"Ticklish baby mouse ye're." Saying this he pushes his fangs into her flesh and she created a mousey noise head lulling. He gives out a moan-y growl at the taste of first droplet hitting his tongue. He doesn't think he could stop from now on. She tastes like the nectar birds of heaven could feed on. 

His body coming to life. Inners feeling fresh as ever again. 

She feels float-y. Like taking a nap over clouds and letting the zephyr cocoon her and she stuffs her face in the crook of his neck breathing him happily with a loopy smile.

This's oddly satisfying and calming. He wants to take care of her. She's a beacon he always wants to keep protected from the storm. He gasps feeling himself nourished all over again after days of starvation. Lapping at the shiny drops of what's left making her giggle and he could easily recognize that smell. Of her arousal. 

She's all worked up in his embrace snuggling closer to him. He has been in this position with many people before but once they serve his purpose they'd been walked away to take care of.

"Don't go lost on me little mouse y'need to eat somethin'." He settles her over his thigh taking the mug and muffins. 

Tearing it in two and bringing it to her mouth as she lays her head against his shoulder. He sighs happily feeling full as she nibbled slowly, "Thank you." He wipes the crumbs from the corner of her lips feeling the petalness of them and wondering what he shouldn't be wondering at all. "'S okay." She quips with cracky voice making Harry chuckle and sipping onto his own warm milk.

.                                  .                               .

Harry didn't know a human could attract him like a magnet to metal. She manifested him once and now he's always at her cosy home, he likes the radiance of sunshine that promises from her presence. They watch movies till the clock doesn't strike six in the morning, have secret rendezvous hidden from the eye of normal people at the places Y/N has never been, he has his weekly bites from her and in return brings her every Oscar Wilde's books from his shelf. 

Biting her's the most pleasing yet excruciating part because the way she melts like a honey over him like she depends on him and the sweet smell of her wetness that billows in the room makes Harry gripe at her sides, sometimes drinking more than her petite body could handle. He feels awful after that. 

Cuddles her to sleep and makes the walnut pie he learned from his Nana which apparently is a witch (she isn't actually his grandma — he has long forgotten about his real family). 

Harry took her to the vampires museum and when her marshmallow lips baubled in astonishment at the wings of Angels displaying on the burgundy wall. He kept his arms wrapped around her waist the whole time eyeing anyone that would look towards her weirdly (humans aren't allowed at vampire premises, but who dares to point a finger at Harry? No one.) One of the reasons he hugged her in a smushing coddling suffocating way to lather his scent all over her leaving her flustered and confused. Y/N has finally met someone that shares the same sleeping schedule as her insomniac ass. "We better leave before they hang me angel here too." His breath was hot against her neck running shivers down her spine. 

His words carrying amiability and seductivity causing Y/N to gape at him. Did he just call her his Angel? He definitely did. Annoying leech that's fucking up with Y/N's emotions. 

They didn't talk about it at all after that. 

Harry did with Nana. Freaking out to her how his emotions are always spiraling for her. That he wants her all to himself. Wants to feel her in ways that's beyond just the touch. Nana just laughed it off and made him eat his coconut pie. He almost choked on his bite. Adam apple bobbing in pain when she cleared to him – that; The they indeed have bonded to eachother. 

Her blood runs inside him. His marks are on the most precious spot of her body. Where lovers claim their affection — how could he not feel like that towards her? She's sure that Y/N also feels the same for Harry. 

Harry was getting done with some cluster of work when a stab of pain invaded his whole body prickling uncomfortably against his skin. Something's up. He could feel in his bones that his little mouse's not okay. When he goes her home he's met by pure silence making him more anxious than he already is.

He picks Meowsie from the floor rubbing her crown as he steps inside her bedroom. She's layered under many fold blankets in her bed shrinked into a pea and her head perks up when Harry's voice reaches her, "Angel. . ." She throws everything aside tackling him to mattress making him squeak.

He smiles petting her hair as she purrs against his chest fisting the hem of his shirt tightly. "One of those days?" He asks genuinely not stopping his gentle action and she bobs her head  vigorously bottom lip wobbling, "Oh my little mouse – c'mere what happened?" His gaze flitting between her's as he cups her cheeks squishing them adorably. 

She ignores whatever he's saying craving the overwhelming feel of stars and flowers when he bites her, "Can you bite me, please?" He startles at that brows skyrocketing.

Giddiness stirring in his stomach and how bad he feels to brush her off, he has to do it for her sake. "Now, that's not an escape ye' should seek fo' right?" He gives her a stern look when she whines throwing her head back, "Then can I bite you?" She just wants to distract herself from the unbearable headche of her history course. 

He chuckles breathily at that sighing because could he say no to her? No. He smiles down at her dimples denting in his cheeks, "Kay. Go then." She stuffs her face in the dip of his neck sniffing the marbled beach fragrance of him that of summers I'm December's cosiness. Her teeth grazing at the curve of his pale skin and Harry closes his eyes in anticipation. He feels intimidated by this little human being like no other. His little human.

Her teeth grazing against his cold skin and Harry almost whined letting a moan slip his eyes rolling back into his sockets as she bites him. His hands on her ass twitching to grope at the flesh when his cock stirred with her heat leaking against it. She creates sweet filthy noises succling the mark and "Enough." Harry cleared his throat and the haze in his head bounding her wrists between them pulling pulling her away looking at her sternly when she whines. 

"Baby. . talk to me." He caresses her cheek with his knuckles but she ignores his words floating in her all headspace staring the mark she created. Tracing the beautiful hue of love bite with her fingers, "How did it feel?" Harry's eyes flutter with charming smile as he kissed the hand which's not busy memorizing him. 

"Like a lil mouse ticklin'" She leans at that kissing her work of art, giving wet little sweet kisses up his jaw palms running down his midriff as she whispered. 

"This?" Her hips stuttering with his swell sitting delicious between her panty clad pussy lips, she peers up at him from her under her lashes as her lips rested against the corner of his pillowy full mouth. 

"And this?" Test of his patience. "Like I've never felt before." Saying. He smudges his lips against her's in a succulent, sweet and affectionate kiss. Lapping tenderly with his pink wet tongue at her mouth to deepen the kiss squishing her cheeks in the process. Swallowing her whimpers and whines down his throat like she's most precious. She humps his bulging cock with erotic swivels of her hips and Harry griped at her sides to leave blue blemishes in some hours.

He closes his eyes still smiling foolishly resting his temple against her's – noses doing eskimo kisses. 

"Can we talk now, what's disturbing my angel?" He tucks her hair back kissing her forehead and she bobs her head embarrassed at her tantrums. "It's silly. 'M gonna fail my history exam." His eyes twinkle, "Just havocin' your brain for this?" 

"No worries. I gotcha."

. . .

This's how they ended up like this surrounded by notes and papers. Harry complaining with an unbelievable scuff, "What do they teach ye' kids now days? That didn't happen at all in history." Still ending up helping her with learning which ended up him giving her his slender fingers fucking her with them to let her work for her reward.

"No pet. Wrong answer." He tutted eyes still on the quiz card and it's the sight for sore eyes. She cramps her thighs around his wrist and he curled his fingers rubbing her walls in return as a warning, "Come on lil mouse ye' right there." He leans from the edge of his chair to snatch a chaste kiss from her parted ones.

"189-5?" She mewls not sure of her answer and Harry again pressed his lips against her's murmuring against them driving a third finger inside her and rubbing her clit in circles with his thumb, "such an intelligent girl. doin' s' good fo' me – wanna cum?" He bites at her earlobe gripping the quiz cards tightly.

"Yes. Please‐" He cuts her off taking his digits out making her whine and squirm loudly. Sage coloured panties clearly drenched in her slickness as Harry licks her sweet juices like a hungry kitten from his fingers wrapping his magenta lips till his knuckles — if it's a lollipop humming around them vulgarly.

"Harry No!" She huffs making grabby hands at him and he squeezes her bossom thigh to push her down, "Harry yes. Now -- tell me babe where Buddhism originated from?" He wets the pad of his thumb nonchalantly eyeing her playfully and Y/N just wants to kiss that pink pretty tongue as he turned the page around.

She grabs his hand moving them closer to her swollen pussy head falling at his mere graze, "Please." He gives love nibbles at her cheek flickering her clit to tease her.

"What baby?" He murmurs gliding them up and down her slit causing her to rock her pelvis against his touch his freezing fingers adding upto sensation. "Want your fingers." She gasped breathily because before her request Harry was stuffing her back with his fingers massaging the sweet shell of her g-spot.

Her tummy coiling with pleasure and she threw her arms around his neck parted lips pressing against his throat, "Last quiz and then ye' can come all over me fingers." He tells her pinching her thighs. His cock weeping in his pants. The world around them deafening to glitter noises and Harry puts his chin atop her shoulder raising the card infront of her shoulder as she thrashed in his arms.

It was for his last criss-cross of swipe when she gushed all over him with noises that stroked Harry's ego and this time he gave her a hickey coaxing her orgasm from her high, "Hmh. S' warm I could stay inside ye' forever." A sugary smooching voice echoes in room when he kissed the spot between her ear and neck.

Y/N thinks Harry has successfully made a nest in her heart.

. . .

They were flopped over quilts in her bed moon glowing happily in love with them together and Y/N turned in his arms admiring each glimmer of his skin with an awestruck puppy eyes, "You're such an Angel. . .so pretty." He chuckles softly bringing her closer to her chest to hear her heartbeats.

"People think otherwise my mouse." He gives out a 'oof' sound giggling when she climbed up his torso heels of palms pressing against his pecks. "You're for me resting in the depths of ye'r skin — that went through love and sorrows, nourishment and pains until god decided you were meant to be mine. . ." She sucks in a breath cupping his beautiful face to lull it side to side. Harry could bite her whole made of petals and honeycomb she is. He stares her zoning out for a moment.

"Sorry. But seeing ye' with my bites makes me s' hard. . ." He whispers. "Bite me again then." She nuzzles in the crook of his neck pressing her wet crotch down against his hard dick pressing against his zipper.

"So polite and carin'." He grins smacking kisses against the thin skin of her shoulder reaching the mark that's still pudgy and purple. She moans getting him out with shaky fingers and kissing him heatedly in full vigour making slick filthy noises. He slaps her bottom ripping her panties to throw them carefully rubbing his weeping blushed head in between her clenching pussy lips to smudge their arousals.

Whimpers of bliss whirling in air when he slipped inside her slick cunt filling her to brim his balls pressed against her bum, "Fuck. Just how I imagined — tight 'n snug. I love ye'r cunt baby." He gritted grinding his pelvis against her's in slow teasing motion hitting one spot continuously.

"Feels good. . ." She cries softly thighs quivering by his sides and he wrapped his hand around the nape of her to bring her down for another passionate kiss, "Would ye' bond to meh? Huh - lemme cum inside ye'r pretty pussy? Make it mine?" He mumbled wet-ly against her lips sucking her lower one to make it all plump and pinkish.

"Make me yours." She gives out a squeaky whimperish moan when at her words he licked his mark biting it. Her walls creamping around his cock to feel each, ridge and thick vein and she turned a loopy butterfly in his arms.

"Ye' can't cum unless I give ye' permission and I've had plenty to drink. . ." He growls grabbing her jaw eyes turning oyrx and she wipes her own blood from his mouth to press her thumb against his tongue letting him suck. Now, she doesn't have one mark only it's plenty that of flowers scattered on canvas.

He stretches his legs wide toes curling holding her down from her hips to fuck into her with rough mind forging thrusts, "Yes!" Y/N whispers with hoarse throat that she hasn't spoken from months.

"Cum fo' me. Over me cock baby wants to feel ye' Angel." He moans fondling her breasts in his large calloused palms smauching kisses at very skin he could find to shower his love to. Y/N comes a wave of shiver running from her soles to head as she just created noises straight out of porn.

Her creaming around him. Warm and slick cum dribbling down his balls didn't last Harry too. He came inside her in thick spurts of ribbons leaving blueprints at her arse.

They remained like this for some moments. Cacooned into eachother breathing eachother Harry memorizing her to memorize the memory he could never forget and caresses her cheek with the back of his hand.

He lays her on bed gently slipping out of her shushing her with pecks on mouth when she whined from sensitivity, "Gonna take care of ye' little mouse." He bends her knees kissing them stroking the insides of her shivering thighs to calm her down taking his discarded boxer from side.

"Want you to squeeze baby -— I came alot." She does as he said and he cleans her with his clothe showering her in kisses and praises.

Running a steamy bath with essential lavender and rose oils and bathe salts. Resting her between his legs to feel her skin everytime against his skin.

"I love you. Gonna keep ye' forever." He whispers in the silence of night and she smiled with fuzzy heart. Feeling good and fluttery. "I love you too."

Shrugging she retorts playfully, "I'd be all old and wrinkly but you'd be still this gorgeous now that's unfairrrrr." He just laughs at her cuteness creating obnoxious kissing noises while kissing her face.

"Gross." She mutters bashfully eyeing him and he fake offends tickling her sides causing the water splash from rims, "Wasn't gross when I was fucking your brains out—" She tries to smack him in between laughters.

"Heyyyy."

[cabensonsgirly]

👼Baby's Got Trouble. Don't Know How To Live. Don't Want To Die. (Cordelia Goode)👼

Cordelia Goode x fem!reader

👼Part 6 of SP getting reader pregnant👼

👼Slice 1👼

Co-authored with @billiedeannovak

Somewhat au but more so later xx

👼Wordcount: 3422👼

👼Posted on AO3: Read Here👼

👼Content: Your mum sucks, slow-burn, fluff, angst, alcohol, more to be added later👼

👼“No, ma’am. It isn’t crazy hippie rubbish. As I said, your daughter has a place here at the academy. She will start classes upon arrival. It is best she bring all the clothing she has and any other personal items she might wan-“👼

“Hello? Is this the Robichaux or whatever place?”

“Robichaux Academy, yes it is. My name is Cordelia Goode, I’m the Headmistress of Robichaux Academy. How may I help?”

“Brilliant. My daughter, Yn, has somehow managed to break our wine glasses while we were- my husband, son, and I were sitting eating at the dining table. She then managed to fix them once the initial shock wore off but this can’t go on. She’s a disgrace to the family. We heard tales from her great grandmother about witches in Salem but we just thought she was going batty in her old age. Regardless, can you fix our daughter?”

“I- Ma’am, I understand that to people like you- er, I mean, people without magical abilities, that it is scary when these abilities show themselves, but it doesn’t mean your daughter needs to be- to be fixed. Yes, she can come to the academy, there should have been a letter in the-“

“Oh. That place. We got the letter and threw it out thinking it was some crazy hippie rubbish.”

“No, ma’am. It isn’t crazy hippie rubbish. As I said, your daughter has a place here at the academy. She will start classes upon arrival. It is best she bring all the clothing she has and any other personal items she might wan-“

“She will take what she can fit into that stupid bag of hers before we kick her out. We don’t want her in the house any longer. She’s a disgrace and is putting us in danger.”

“I think- I think she’s the one in danger, not you. People still- There are people out there that still want us dead. She will be safer surrounded by her sisters. Someone will come by to make sure she makes it here safely.”

“Good. I suggest someone come quick because after I hang up, she’s no longer welcome.”

“I- Okay ma’am. Very well then. Someone will be there shortly. Have a pleasant evening.”

You have always hated the dark ever since you were a little kid, it’s not the darkness itself that scares you but rather the inability to see what could see you. The lights that lined the streets offered little to no visibility, they were as useful as soldiers would be standing in their place, in fact, they were probably what made you most unnerved about sitting outside on the curb at night, they had this uneven yellow glow to them that only managed to give off light in a very small orb around them. The only thing that would make your current situation more unpleasant than it already was, would be if a thick fog rolled in, trapping the light in an even smaller radius, and making the darkness around you all that more ceaseless.

It was a relatively quiet part of New Orleans, and at the moment you couldn’t tell whether this was a blessing or a curse. Sure, there weren’t random people approaching you and asking if you have money or if you need help, but there was also no one around if something were to happen to you. Yes, your scream could be heard but no one would come running to see where it had come from or why it had been made.

Your parents hadn’t really explained much about where you were going, they said “gather your shit in that bag of yours and get out” followed by a “someone from that hippie academy will pick you up” but that was all they had said before the door hit your ass on the way out of the house.

There weren’t any hippie academies that you could think of, you doubted they were even a thing. Wouldn’t a hippie academy be counterintuitive to the whole hippie thing? Why were you even being sent away? It wasn’t your fault that the glasses broke, it was an accident! And you had fixed them so why were you suddenly sitting on your ass on the curb?

The low hum of a car draws your attention from your phone and makes you jump up and back from the curb so you don’t get hit by it. It’s a fancy car so surely it wouldn’t be here for you. Why would a black Mercedes A-Class Sedan pull up in front of you?

Maybe it was one of those gross rich people that wanted to give you a nice place to stay and anything you could desire in exchange for sex. No Bueno. One of the doors swing open and a young blonde woman steps out, brushing down the front of her knee-length black skirt before smiling shyly at you. “Are you Yn?”

You narrow your eyes and tighten your grip on the straps of your backpack “Who’s asking?” Despite current circumstances, the woman doesn’t come across like she would do anything to hurt you, she seems kind and has a certain air of innocence about her.

“Oh! My apologies, I’m Cordelia Goode. I’m the Headmistress of Robichaux Academy. I’m here to take you there. Have- Did your parents explain where you’re going and why?”

You shook your head and looked down briefly, toeing the dirt with your shoe before glancing back at her. “No. They pretty much told me to get my shit and leave, and that some ‘hippie academy’ person would come get me. Are- are you that person? Not- not a hippie person but- not- not that there’s anything wrong with if you are.”

Cordelia laughs softly and moves closer to you, offering her hand to carry your bag “Let me take that for you.” You hand her your bag, quietly apologising for it being heavy but she seems to hold it with ease. “So they told you none of what I discussed with them on the phone? That’s- that’s to be expected I guess. We can discuss this in the car on the way, okay?”

You nod and follow her back to the car, climbing in after her and closing the door. She whispers something to the driver before the car sets off, turning her attention back to you. “Do you know anything about witches and covens?”

“A little? My great grandma use to talk a lot about what happened to family in Salem but mom and dad always said she was just getting batty in her old age. She said that witch hunters would tear people from their homes and slaughter them, sometimes whole villages of people that were believed to be witches or- or even harboring them.

She use to show me magic tricks as a kid, making her purse disappear then reappear in my school bag. I never knew how she did it but- but it fascinated me. I talked to mum and dad about it, how amazing it was but they just told me to stop talking and never talk about it again. Other than that… I have no idea.”

“Your- your parents- mother- did briefly mention that your great grandmother use to talk about it but she, as you said, put it down to her being batty in old age. Unfortunately for your grandmother- great grandmother, sorry- what she talked to you about was- in some cases, still is, true. Witches, all though now have safer places and are more widely accepted, they- we, are still at danger of being killed by witch hunters.

At the academy, Robichaux, we are safe, the Supreme is incredibly strong and capable of protecting us, and there are a number of other older witches who help too. But like most covens, we are stronger together than we are divided. We are here to protect and help new witches grow. With us you will have a new family who will never turn their back on you when you are in a time of need.”

Looking out the window it was just a blur of colours from the lights and neon signs that lit up the streets signalling that New Orleans night life was just waking up. “What do you do when you grow up licking poison off knives and now that you’re finally going to be in a situation where you're fed on milk and honey, all you can think about is running because something that sweet can’t be anything other than poison? What is that quote…

I don’t know how to stay tender-“

“with this blood in my mouth? Ophelia, act 4, scene 5. It is… appropriate considering your situation but… if I’m going off my impression of you, you are going to find it easy to continue being kind, even if you feel like you’re only good at hurting people. I can see that you have a good heart, Yn. Although my mother does tell me I’m not good at judging people.”

You smile shyly, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly “Thank you, Cordelia. I hope I can prove your mother wrong and be the good person that you think I am.” You return your gaze to look out the window, admiring the different colour lights you can see and how busy this part of the city was. “It’ll be nice finally having someone that believes in me. That believes I am good.”

“You will find that there will be others out there who will see goodness in you too. But- but even if there aren’t… Know that I see it.”

The rest of the drive was filled with light-hearted banter, the kind you would hear good friends throw back and forth. You wouldn’t consider you and Cordelia to be friends seeing as you two have only just met but you felt as though it wouldn’t take long until you were.

By the time you made it to the academy it was around midnight, the building was grand and imposing, it had this energy to it that gave off the distinct impression that if you tried damaging it in anyway you would be the one that came away worse off. There were lights that lit the pathway and entryway up which somehow managed to make the building all the more intimidating despite feeling perfectly safe.

You went to grab your backpack but Cordelia bet you to it. “I can carry my bag, you know that right? I don’t mind taking my own shit- stuff in. You’ve already saved me from whatever hell my parents were going to impose on me, the least I can do is take my own things inside.”

She shakes her head, a small smile tugging at her lips as she leads the way up the path “I’m sure you can, but you’re new here and you’ve also had a long day, it’s the least I can do for a new coven member.” You let out a dramatic groan as you follow after her, she opens the door and steps to the side to let you in before coming in after you and closing the door behind you both.

“It’s so quiet. Is it always this quiet? I can’t- Nevermind” You shove your hands in your jacket pockets, waiting for Cordelia to take you to where you can hopefully get some sleep.

“It’s only this quiet when the girls aren��t creating mischief and partying, as well as when my mother hasn’t been drinking, mind you, I haven’t seen her since she left to travel the world... You’ll grow to appreciate this rare moment of silence.” She gestures for you to follow her as she leads you up a grand staircase, leading you down a hall before opening a door to your left.

“It’s a small room but I doubt you’d want the girls harassing you with questions at this hour so we’ll move you into their room tomorrow if you would like? There’s drawers for your clothes, a small desk, and of course a bed. The bathroom is next door and if you want hot water I suggest waking up before 7 or else Madison will use it all up when she takes her hour long shower.”

You nod your head and thank her quietly, taking your backpack from her you step in the room, dumping your bag on the desk before moving to close the curtains. “Is- Is there anything else I can do for you before I let you get some rest?” You turn around to look at her before looking at the floor “Is- Is it okay if I turn some music on? I’ll have it quiet so it doesn’t disturb anyone. I just- I can’t sleep when it’s silent.”

Cordelia smiles softly, she finds it rather adorable that you can’t sleep unless there’s noise of some sort but she doesn’t want to embarrass you or herself by admitting this. “Of course you can. I will make sure- or try to get you a radio so you don’t have to play it through your phone. I’m sure it will be nice to hear music rather than the girls screaming at each other over who stole whose makeup. I- I wouldn’t mind hearing what you like listening to” your eyes shoot up to look at her, a blush settling on both your faces.

“I- uhm… I- Good- Good night, Yn. I’ll come see you in the morning so I can introduce you to the others at breakfast. Uhm… Let- let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help you settle in. Good night.” She rushes out, hoping that you don’t notice how flustered she got but also has a gut feeling that you did notice. She gives you a small wave before leaving quickly, the door closing behind her.

You let out a slow breath, feeling the exhaustion from the day hit you like a bat out of hell. You knew this made no sense seeing as you did nothing physical but apparently being kicked out of home for being a witch had the same effect as running a marathon, it left you broken and tired.

You remove most of your clothing, leaving just your shirt and underwear on before climbing into bed, taking one last glance at your phone to see if you have any messages or calls from anyone but unsurprisingly there weren’t any. You turn the volume up a bit so you can hear your music then put it on your small side-table before turning over and trying to sleep.

No matter where you stayed or how exhausted you were, the first night sleeping somewhere new was always the hardest night sleep you had. Nevertheless, you managed to get to sleep relatively quickly but staying asleep was where it became difficult; the days events were playing in this off-kilter manner, like they were somehow glitching and just playing that awful moment where your powers revealed themselves and you saw the look of fear then disgust in your parent’s eyes on loop. No matter how hard you tried to change what you were dreaming about, your dreams would always end up looping back to this.

“We can never have a fucking normal dinner when you’re involved, can we? There is always something going on with you. Last night it was because you wanted to have a glass of wine and ended up polishing the bottle off yourself. And now!? Now it’s because you’re some freak.”

“Honey, that’s not- you can’t call our daughter that. This time it isn’t her fault this happened. Yes last night was unpleasant but you certainly weren’t helping and now you’re berating the poor girl.”

“Oh? It’s my fault? So what, you’re defending our freak of a daughter?”

“No- No that’s not- I’m not defending her. Tonight was- is just- this is out of her control and ours.”

“Exactly. Out of our control. She’s always been like this. I’m going to go make a call to that academy place. See if they can fix her.”

“I don’t need fixing! I’m not broken!”

“You’re right, you’re not broken. Just defective.”

“Mom? Don’t make her leave. She helps me with my homework when you’re not home. Please. I’ll miss her if you make her-“

“Shut up. This isn’t for little children to discuss. Take your dinner to your room and eat there. This is the last time you’ll be seeing your sister.”

“But-“

“No. Say your goodbyes now then go to your room.”

Your little brother gets out of his seat and walks over to you, wrapping his arms around your legs before hugging you tight, mumbling “I’ll miss you. Sorry mom and dad are making you leave. If- if it counts for something I- I don’t think you’re defective.”

You hug him back, giving his hair a ruffle before letting him go, a sad smile on both your faces. “I’ll see you again someday, kiddo. Be good.”

“Unlike you, your brother isn’t a disappointment to this family.”

You wake with a start upon a knocking on your door, you feel panic surge through you thinking it was your mother about to verbally berate you but then you hear a soft voice. “Yn? May I come in? I thought it best to discuss with you what happens in the morning before lessons start.” You feel your cheeks heat up and pull the duvet up to cover you as you sit up, “uhm yeah- yeah you can come in.”

The doorhandle turns and the door swings open, revealing a youthful Cordelia, her long blonde locks tied back in a ponytail; if you hadn’t known who she was, you would have thought an angel had lost its way, she was beautiful. You look away not wanting to get caught staring, suddenly finding the ceiling to be the most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen.

“Hey! Is that the new girl!? It’s the new girl! Co-“ Cordelia closes the door, shaking her head and letting out a quiet sigh before turning back to face you. “And here I was trying to make sure you would have a relatively peaceful morning, but it seems that the girls have other things in mind.”

You laugh lightly and shrug, “I’ll have to get use to it sooner or later so it’s alright.” She hums a bit, clasping her hands together at her waist. “So… We usually have breakfast together. Some mornings it’s a pleasant affair but then there are mornings where Madison decides to start drama…”

Cordelia trails off, a light blush colouring her cheeks “I- I probably shouldn’t talk like that but… there isn’t much point trying to sugar coat things. It was a lot worse when mother was staying here, as soon as she had some alcohol in her there is no stopping her. But that’s in the past anyway. She’s off traveling” she gestures vaguely with her hands “somewhere.”

You cover your mouth with your hand to stifle laughter, it seems like you’re not the only one who has a tempestuous relationship with their mother. “You’re not laughing at me, are you? It’s not a good look for a new student to laugh at her Headmistress.”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing, it’s not that you were laughing at her but the situation in itself was pretty funny. “I- I’m not I swear” you manage to get out through little fits of laughter “It’s just funny that’s all.” She rolls her eyes but smiles “I doubt you’ll be laughing when mother has a fit and tosses you across the room. God… I really need her to stop doing that.”

Cordelia walks over to your curtains and opens them, flooding the small room with natural light, the golden and bubble-gum hues of the sunrise bringing life to the otherwise dull walls. “You’ll be fine. I doubt she’s returning home any time soon.”

She turns to look at you, a small smile on her face. “I should let you get dressed so you can get downstairs to have something to eat. I try getting breakfast over and done with before 10am but there are usually a few stragglers that appear later and pick at what’s left in the fridge. I’ll talk to the girls and try to get them to not hound you.”

You thank her and she makes her way over to the door, she rests her hand on the doorhandle, looking down before looking back at you. “I’m sorry that you came here because you had no other choice. I promise you that I won’t give up on you, regardless of what path you take in life.” She gives you a sad smile before leaving, the door closing quietly behind her.