#the drama is RIPE here

[secret-smut-sideblog]

We The Drowned

Ascended Astarion x F! Tav

18+ fear, drugging, injury, fears of pregnancy, dubcon, longing, implied death, self sacrifice, just indulgent drama

Astarion long since ascended, Tav has made her mind up to escape his grasp at any cost...

-

Hands shaking, she laid awake. Plan already in motion. But Gods she was so afraid.

Tears sliding down cheeks she cursed herself.

It was what he wanted, what he begged her to help him achieve. Ascension. And Gods she had wanted the world for him. Wanted him to follow his own desires. Had trusted him. Trusted him to know what would be best for him.

She was wrong. So very wrong.

The man laying next to her was far from the man she fell in love with. Cruel. Cold. Vicious.

Oh how she had held on hope. Hope that he would come back to himself. To her. Staying by his side for so long. Years. The length of her hair, the state of her withering body, a witness to her despair, her devotion. Even searching in small moments, so desperate to see just a glimmer. But he was gone.

If she hadn't already known she did now. Pulling her into his bed chambers. Pushing her onto the sheets. Halfway through thrusting hard into her he had laughed, "My pet, I've made a discovery." Hand coming to wrap around her throat. "In this new perfect form I can do something novel. You can give me something precious, I know you want that."

Leaning into her ear, sharp fingernails digging into flesh. "You can sire me an heir."

Terror shook her body at the thought. She had refused being his spawn, that measure of control free from her. Much to his attempts at persuasion, then bitter anger. Knew it was only a matter of time before his precious little patience broke. That he would take her mortality by force.

But a child... his child.

No. No it had to be tonight. She had no choice. Before it was too late.

Held her breath in silent prayer. Felt a phantom twitch in her belly. If it wasnt already too late.

She had been working in secret on an escape plan for months. In the few moments when he would let her be alone she formed her route. Working out every angle, every flaw that she could. It was a great effort as he loathed to have her out of his sight, his reach. His consort.

His pet.

Now as he laid finally still next to her, drugged by the slow acting paralytic in her blood, she reached weakly against her numb limbs. Fighting the heavy pull.

Her handmaid rushed into the room. Right on time, Gods bless her.

"Here," She urged quietly, pouring the antidote into her slack mouth. "Good job, there you go." She encouraged sweetly as she shallowly swallowed, gaining strength.

Shakily she rose, adrenaline already throttling her spine. Gripping her beloved face in her hands. "He'll kill you. Oh Gods, Madeline I'm so sorry." Overcome in gratitude, in grief. Pressing a desperate kiss into her soft lips. Their last, she knew.

The memory of them holding hands in the garden, the overhang of the canopy shading them from the world. Leaning her head into the gentle curl of her shoulder. The tender way she had pushed her hair behind her ear. A love so brief, so bright. So little time shared.

"I know," Her beautiful savior whispered, pressing their foreheads together briefly. "Now go. You have to go."

Choking back a sob she took fast to feet, grabbing the supplies she had hidden under her side of the bed. Forced herself not to look back.

Running down the hallway she knew her time was limited. It was a potent paralytic but he was so much stronger now, would overcome it much faster than a mortal man.

Hidden door. Thirty paces. Turn. She ducked into the servants side door, the shortcut. The dark cramped hallway rushing past her. Twisting and ducking under pipes. Slats of light striking her face in a blur.

Steps. Remember the steps.

Bursting from the hidden door she rushed through the empty ballroom out onto the balcony. Empty of guards, the rotation switch.

The night air mockingly peaceful. She gulped it in. Eyes already zeroed in on her next hurdle.

Throwing her pack over the edge. Shuddering at the time it took to hear its distant thud against the ground.

Only room enough for one long length of rope in her pack, she had one option.

Downing a feather fall potion she looked over the edge of the castle wall, trying not to let the dizzy height consume her. Her fear too much, she turned her back, her heels kissing the edge.

She caught a pulse of light high above her from an ornate window. A crash. Out of time.

Closing her eyes she stepped back into oblivion.

Falling. Falling.

How she had fell from the nautiloid ship. Both an escape. But the time she had a guardian to catch her was far behind her.

Back meeting ground, the wind knocked brute out of her. Even with the potion the fall had been too great. Felt a crack in her ribs.

No time for pain. She had to go.

Scrambling to feet she slung her pack over her back. Planting her feet and taking off like a shot. Bare feet scratching and angry against the underbrush.

"Provolo! " She cried with precious little breath. Could feel her feet move lighter, the momentum coming easier. Haste, another precious advantage.

The sound of rising voices from the castle walls behind her.

Fly forth.

Ducking and weaving around trees, over logs, she felt a tenuous joy start to rise in her chest. Oh Gods she might make it.

Bursting out of the treeline to the magnificent sound of the sea crashing angry below. The tree she had chosen was still here, her anchor.

She ran the rope around its base. So many lengths tied together, long enough to let her drop somewhat unscathed. Tying the knot, the one she had been practicing for weeks, against its ridged skin.

"Please hold." She whispered. Whipping the remaining length out, invisible over the side of the cliff.

Tying her meager possessions into a small bag tight around her waist. Pulling her long braid out of the way, looping loose around her throat. She rushed to the edge, vertigo making her stomach turn. No more potions. If she fell this was it.

Taking the rope in hands she planted her feet, her toes gripping the loose soil.

Gave herself a single moment to close her eyes, take a steadying breath in, out. Okay.

One step backwards, two. Dangling out over the edge. So far to fall. Three steps, four. Dangling. Feet planted against vertical soil. Hands releasing, lowering. Five steps, six. Between worlds, suspended in air.

A violent pull upwards.

Her eyes flashed up, terror gripping her.

A pale hand, fist white knuckled.

Red eyes above.

Eyes full of... fear? No it couldn't be.

Her heart slammed against her sternum. The desperation on his face crumpling her will.

Memories pummeled her. His hand trailing soft in her hair. Eyes bright with mirth as they fell laughing over eachother by the campfire, a stupid in-joke. His voice whispering sweetness into her neck as he gripped her, hips falling into her shivering body.

The pet name she had given him, the one he he insisted he hated, hands on hips. The little smile he couldn't hide as she drawled it at him.

"Starlight?" She asked breathlessly, eyes swimming heavy with tears.

His so wide, so soft again. Her love.

But then he was gone.

"Where do you think you're going," Other hand coming to pull. "Darling?" He hissed at her. Another handful of distance lost.

She rapidly released her grip, white hot pain against the tender flesh of her palms as she broke her descent. Ground gained but not nearly enough.

The smuggled boat waiting for her under the overhang of stone, she only had to make it to the mouth of the cave.

But she knew it was over. His strength was too great, she couldn't descend fast enough.

She would not be kept, he couldnt have her. Only one option.

She looked up into his eyes.

"I love you." Bitter tears burning her face. "I still love you."

"Please let me go."

He laughed, wrenching another length of rope towards his body. "And give up everything? Every gift you've given me?"

Eyes cutting into her. "Every gift you can still give me? No..." Almost face to face now.

"No, I dont think I will."

She was deeply afraid, but more than that, she was angry. Bright fury ripping through her chest. One hand relaxing it's grip.

Angry at everything she had lost. Angry at him for tricking her into thinking he knew his own heart.

Spiteful at every single piece of the life she had wanted with him, that his ambition had stolen. The beautiful thing they could have shared.

In her heart she let it all go.

"Goodbye Astarion."

His hand almost at her wrist, slipping away. "No!" He bellowed, lunging fruitlessly.

She closed her eyes as it all fell away. His wild eyes, the rope, the edge of the earth.

Tumbling through the air she went limp. It was finally over. His pet no more.

The air singing through her whipping hair.

It was done.

She was ready.

Now she just had to meet the water.

-

-

-

"Unghh..."

Far away. What was that? Gods, someone stop it. That sound.

She was so tired, just let her rest.

"Mmfhhh..."

Closer. Wasnt the afterlife supposed to be peaceful?

Was she not owed some Godsdamned peace?

"Uaaghh! " Her gurgling voice came to her all at once. Eyes shooting open.

Coughing great heaves of sea water, she rocked back and forth in the sand. Pinpricks of light in her eyes. Limbs rubber.

How. How had she survived?

From the state of her body she surmised she barely had. Broken, bloody, bruised.

And free.

She laughed wildly. He must think her dead.

Free.

Only time would tell if she had a new problem. Hand to her hunched belly. Gods above and below, spare her one more time.

Coughing and wretching she sat back on her haunches, exhaustion bone deep.

"Shadowheart!" She gasped, the plan suddenly coming back to her.

Sending a single folded letter with a servant, prayed it would reach to the Selunite outpost. Got a small book slipped under her door in return, a pressed night orchid in its pages.

She would be much earlier than she had estimated in her letter, but she knew that wonderful cleric would be waiting for her already. Not one to stand idle.

Pushing back with trembling arms. Rising on legs dead heavy. Heart lifted on high.

She began her long journey back to her life.

~

Part 2

[blughxreader]

platonic yandere batfam thoughts...

how you end up integrating into the family.

I think we often forget how insidious the long-term effects of kidnapping are. Your whole world narrows and you have nothing fulfilling outside of them.

Realistically, how many weeks straight can you do nothing but look at your phone/watch TV? I know we do this every day, but we have school/work/friends/family to provide actual fulfillment and joy. But when you take that away? And have to decide whether you should scroll through monitored social media or talk to your captors?

Especially because the TV doesn't distract from the cold, hard gaze of the surveillance cameras in your room.

Even if you read and craft and cook, it's so difficult to keep your mental health in-tact without having a positive interaction with another human being.

It would start small.

It's morning and Cass smiles at you from across the breakfast table. Not wanting to be rude, you smile tightly back.

Jason wordlessly slides you a book. You take it.

After a few months, you feel slightly more comfortable about taking up space in the manor. Alfred is out of town for the weekend, so you make a sandwich with Tim.

Bruce talks to you about the new scientific breakthrough at Wayne Enterprises and keeps you relatively up-to-date on major world events. You begrudgingly learn more interesting facts than public school has ever taught you.

Soon, you've watched everything good on Netflix. You exhausted your tolerance for social media. You've given yourself headaches reading so much. You've hit an art/writers block like never before because your input has run dry.

With no other source of entertainment, you become more attentive to the Bats.

Of course, you've always watched them out of fear. But as months tick by and you've learned their hearts (and delusions), it's obvious that they would never hurt you. Furthermore, operating within their expectations is easy enough as long as you never challenge them, so the constant danger-sense slowly turns off.

However, because you don't have any outside noise to occupy your mind, drama in the house becomes almost life-and-death to you.

Peace is so fragile, and it's all you have.

Damian and Bruce return from patrol in a rage one night. Damian's furious echoes bouncing upstairs, followed by Bruce's low, indistinguishable scorn.

Fuck, you think. Now your and Bruce's talks are going to be stilted and uncomfortable. Now Damian is going to sulk in your room for hours, unwilling to talk about what happened yet wanting some kind of reassurance.

You can't keep them from fighting, but you want to protect your peace.

When you first arrived in this dreadful manor, you never would have imagined you'd offer them kind words and affection. However it's the only thing you can do now.

There's conflict. The house is tense--your world is tense.

Should you call Dick? He has a day job again, so he can't come over until tomorrow night. It's up to you to ease the tension.

So you do, slowly, with homemade food and Bruce's favorite coffee blend and Damian's favorite hot chocolate. You sit with them individually, shoulder to shoulder (much closer than you would normally sit), and pretend everything is alright. They're surprised but very quick to snap back into a good mood.

The house is suddenly back in order and you did it all by yourself.

And with these vigilantes, conflict is ripe. There's always people coming and going, fighting and playing, and you're unwillingly the most in-tune with the well-being of everyone's relationships.

You protect your peace. You protect the house.

this shit makes me gnaw at my enclosure. if you're fem, it's worse because ✨ stereotypical woman archetype ✨ anyway this has been on my mind because i've been taking care of my baby chicks and cooking dinner most nights, so i'm like 💁‍♀️ i could be a captive house wife click here for my yandere batfam masterlist

[thefantasyden]

Can't Help Myself

Pairing: Han + AFAB Reader

Genre: SMUT

Warnings: DUB CON, Filthy dirty talk, degradation, force, manhandling, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, AFTERCARE!

Words: 1602

Summary: Your dearest friend Jisung comes home to see you waiting for him half naked, and he just can’t control himself.

Authors note: I made sure to include the aftercare in this one, and overall, I just love this. Add it to my list of self-indulgent delights.

It’s not his fault.

What did you expect him to do, really? It’s not like he had planned to do this! Jisung had been so excited to come and binge watch some slightly cringey Thai dramas and that was absolutely all he had been looking forward to. At least, it was until he saw you.

You were spread out on his bed, sheets wrinkled where you laid on your tummy, legs slightly spread as you giggled at whatever had been holding your attention. You hadn’t even attempted to cover up, and the big shirt you were wearing had ridden up to your hips, your underwear on full display, barely covering your ass.

Your ass. Jesus Christ, he has never seen something so glorious in his life. It’s so perfectly round and it’s right there laying in front of him like an apple ripe for picking. Who could ever blame him for taking such an opportunity?

You weren’t alarmed at first. It felt perfectly normal when he climbed on to the bed, situating himself so that he was comfortably sitting on the thickest part of your thighs. It was perfectly normal, and you often would do the same thing to him, so why should it be weird?

You didn’t even question when his hand rubbed at your back over your shirt, taking it as a perfectly harmless display of affection from your very best friend. Your sweet, silly best friend.

The alarm bells don’t start ringing in your head until you feel his hands sliding lower, suddenly gripping your ass with a strength that almost hurt. You’re about to question what he was doing when you feel something pressing between your thighs, confusion flooding you, mixing with a strange new kind of concern that you’re sure you had never felt with him. What was he doing?!

You want to turn around to look at him, but his palm is pressing firmly between your shoulder blades the second he feels you moving, a growl leaving his throat as you realise the movement between your thighs is his cock which is now grinding purposefully against you, his weight pressing down harder against you.

“You look so good lying on my bed like this.” He moans out, fidgeting on top of you, his free hand struggling with his zipper until he’s managed to get it down, immediately freeing his cock from his pants. He can’t help but stare in awe as it sits against the pretty heart pattern of your underwear.

“What am I supposed to do when you’re spread out like this? You're laying here ready to be taken.”

There’s no chance for you to responsd, the palm against your back moving to lock in your hair when he hears you open your mouth, your face shoved in to the pillow that you had previously been using to prop yourself up.

“I don’t know what the fuck you expect.” He mumbles out, his focus captured by the view of his cock against your skin as he tugs your underwear to the side. Your pussy is glistening already and he wastes no time in dragging his tip through your dripping folds, groaning with a certain roughness that you have never heard from him before. It was something strange, something feral and you would be lying if you tried to say you couldn’t feel your pussy clench in response.

“You shouldn’t be lying on my bed half naked like a fucking slut if you don’t want me to do something about it.”

You’re ashamed of the moan that forces its way out of your throat when you feel his cock breaching your cunt, your walls gripping him tight as he forces himself to the hilt inside of you. His hand has lost its grip of your hair in favour of returning to it’s spot between your shoulder while his other hand manoeuvres you by your hips, wrapping beneath them and pulling you up until you figure out what he wants, you ass arching up in the air. He could come from the sight alone, your cunt swallowing his cock and your ass on display for him. It’s the closest to heaven that he thinks he could ever get.

He’s never been a man of patience, and that’s clear as he sets a brutal pace from the start, thrusting as hard as he sees fit as he pounds into your pretty pussy, the slick sound of your wetness covering both of your thighs as his hips meet your ass fills the room and it’s becoming impossible not to lose yourself when you can feel the way the tip of his cock digs in to your gspot with every thrust, the slight burn of your pussy being forced to accommodate him only adding to the pleasure that fills you with embarrassment. It shouldn’t feel this good. But it does.

“You like it, don’t you?” He growls, landing a firm slap to your ass cheek, a proud smirk gracing his features when he sees the burning red outline of his hand springing up against your skin. “You filthy little thing. You like having me force myself on you? Huh? You want me to use you like some worthless fleshlight?”

You’re trying to hard to muffle your moans and he simply can’t allow that. The way you’re trying to hide from him only serves to piss him off, practically forcing his hand when he tugs your hands behind your back, using his grip on your wrists as leverage to pull you back toward him so that you have no hope of hiding the sinful, untameable moans and whimpers that flood the room with the sweetest melody.

“I fucking own you. This pretty cunt belongs to me, yeah? Gonna use it whenever the fuck I want.”

You can barely hear him at this point, the blood pounding in your ears as he fucks you within an inch of your life, your orgasm rapidly approaching. He can’t explain how proud he is to see your falling apart, melting into a pliant little puddle as he destroys you.

“Say it. Tell me I fucking own you.”

“You own me!” It’s almost a scream when it leaves you lips, his teeth digging in to the sensitive skin on your neck almost hard enough to have you feeling like you might cry.

“That’s it baby. I’m almost done, I promise. I know it hurts. Such a brave little thing for me.” He coos at you in the most mocking tone he can manage considering how laboured his breathing is, his own moans fighting to interrupt every word as your walls flutter around him.

“Cum for me. Cum on my cock and I’ll let you go.”

You’re not trying to obey him. You don’t want to do what he says, but you can’t stop your high from hitting and your reaction happens so fast that it’s obedience whether you like it or not.

“That’s it. Milk my cock baby. You want my cum, huh? Want me to fill you?”

You’re trying to shake your head in response, but he quickly shoves two of his fingers into your mouth and you’re helpless to his whims.

It doesn’t take much longer before his cock is pulsing inside of you, thick ropes of cum flooding your pussy and dripping out around his cock as he offers a few more shallow thrust before pushing you down to lay flat on the bed, his weight dropping on top of you.

“Too fucking bad if you don’t. You’re mine, and I get to do whatever I want to you.”

There’s a full 8 minutes of you both huffing and puffing, your body completely spent when he finally climbs off of you, shuffling toward his drawers quickly before he returns with a pack of baby wipes and a small bottle of water, a hand stroking your hair as the other grabs wipes from the pack to clean the mess between your legs and across your thighs as best as he can. He knows you’ll have to shower properly eventually, but he won’t make you worry about that now.

“Baby?” He calls gently, your mind still too fuzzy to respond to him just yet.

He presses a sweet kiss to your temple, adjusting you so that you’re laying on your side, your favourite plush hamster being shoved into your arms. He can’t help but ‘aw’ when you nuzzle your face against it, enjoying the feeling of the soft material against your sensitive cheek. He really does think you’re the prettiest thing in the world.

“Baby, are you okay? Was that too much?” The worry in his voice is the only thing that draws you from your dreamscape, a quiet hum meeting his ears. He sighs in relief, opening the water for you and holding it up to your mouth, his hand cupped beneath the opening to stop it from spilling on to you as you take tiny sips until he’s satisfied.

“Was fun.” You whisper, reaching out to him and giggling softly as he lays beside you, pulling you into his arms and throwing a leg over you before he tugs the covers up, shielding your bare legs from the sharp chill that’s beginning to spread in the room.

“You did so good baby. Took me so well.” He keeps pressing kisses to your face, his fingers kneading at your aching arms. He’d make sure to book you a spa day tomorrow to treat you after all your hard work.

“This is why you’re my best friend.” You say with a laugh. “You always give me the good dick.”

[fanficimagery]

The Lost Girl

You just wanted to travel and forget all about the drama you left behind. You didn't expect to fall in with four boys who would become another family. Maybe more.

[Part One of Three]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm- I'm alive? Surprise! I'm still in a bit of a pickle with where I want part two to go, but I figured if I post this now then I can't back out and delete it. I need your help, but I'll ask at the bottom so I won't spoil this.

Words: 7.9K

Santa Carla is the total opposite of Mystic Falls and you couldn't have loved it here more if you tried. You grew up with pageants and balls and trying to stay at the top of the popularity totem pole, but you secretly loathed every second of it. Not to mention your sister was a beacon for the supernatural, attracting vampires like no one's business, which eventually led to you getting caught in the crossfire and being turned at the ripe age of twenty.

Stefan Salvatore did his best to teach you how to feed and control your blood lust, but his techniques just weren't cutting it for you. So Damon took over, leading Bonnie, Matt, Elena, Jeremy, and Tyler deeming you untrustworthy. You don't know why they disliked your friendship with Damon so much, but their wariness of you only grew when you eventually befriended the Original Vampires that once sought to kill you, your family, and friends.

The last straw was when everyone started fighting over a cure for vampirism. They all thought there was enough of the cure to go around for all those who wanted it, but nope. There was only a single dose, and both Elena and Rebekah wanted it. So when you saw the lines being drawn, you packed a couple of bags and left to see the world.

The only person who knew of your travel plans were, surprisingly, Elijah and Klaus. Elijah was sad to see you go, especially since you were one of the only ones who he could trust, but Klaus was all for you seeing the world and experiencing life as you should have. You were more than content compelling your way through the trip, but the Mikaelson's were having none of that and gave you a card to use since they amassed a ridiculous amount of money over the years.

After deleting all social media, with the exception of a traveling Instagram account that was newly made, you bought a new phone and only gave your new number to Elijah and Klaus. You traveled abroad first, touring the most beautiful cities, museums, and seeing every landmark you could. You kept the Mikaelson brothers in the loop about everything that they sometimes surprised you by showing up for a week before flying back home.

For a year you saw all you could and then headed back to the States. You wanted nothing to do with Mystic Falls, Virginia, so you settled in California. Santa Carla was the most nitty gritty town you'd ever seen, and it was the last place anyone in your family would expect for you to stay in.

It was perfect.

With a new hotel having been built in Santa Carla, you compelled yourself one of the suites indefinitely. You didn't want to purchase a house in case you needed to up and leave, and having a housekeeper stop by weekly was perfect.

You stood out amongst the locals of Santa Carla, it seeming like everyone walking around either had some crazy hairstyle, hair color, or numerous piercings. And then there was you, skin untouched and the only piercings you had being those in your ears.

So after a week of settling in and compelling those who needed compelling, you finally decided to hit the infamous boardwalk.

The boardwalk, for some reason, feels like you've stepped into the past. Could be because of the music playing or the way everyone dressed, but you know you didn't actually slip into the past given the cell phones in people's hands or air pods in people's ears. The bells, whistles, and flashing lights make you giddy, taking you back to a time when you were excited as a child to be attending the annual fair Mystic Falls put on, but the attendees were the total opposites of those you'd find in Mystic Falls.

The employees in charge of the various game booths attempt to entice you to play, but you rather spend your cash at the crafts section of the boardwalk. There was no use in paying for a rigged game that made sure you lost ninety percent of the time when you could buy handmade crafts and help support someone's living.

After buying some handmade jewelry and a couple of shirts, you decide to eat. There's a Chinese place that smells marvelous as you stroll by, so you turn back around and enter the establishment. And then almost as soon as you're seated, a waitress comes by to take your drink order. You quickly skim the menu as she gets your drink, then order a bowl of Hot and Sour soup, a plate of Chicken LoMein, two egg rolls, and a pan of fried dumplings. The waitress seems impressed, and you merely laugh it off before sipping your Coke.

As you wait for your food, you grab a napkin and start ripping it apart piece by piece as you stare out the window you'd chosen to sit by. People pass by, uncaring for what's going on in the small restaurant, but then there are two boys that you just so happen to clash gazes with. Both fit with the eighties aesthetic- one with wildly tamed blonde hair that only a true rocker could pull off and the other with a dirty blonde, curly mullet. Both hairstyles are wildly out of place, even if they're trying to make a comeback now, but fortunately for the boys they can pull it off.

"Hey, chika, you want some company?" The blonde with the teased hair shouts so you can hear him through the window.

Holding back a wince at his loud volume, you shake your head. "Maybe next time!"

"Aw. Come on, babe. You're breaking my heart!" He pouts, even as his friend smirks behind his fist.

You shrug, grinning, but are saved from having to interact any further when the waitress appears with your food. As the food is set in front of you and you thank her, you glance at the boys one last time while giving them a wink before digging in.

You casually devour your food bit by bit, asking for a refill on your Coke only once. Then when you've had your fill, you ask for your leftovers to be boxed up. And as you walk outside, you hand said leftovers to a couple of teens digging through a trash can.

Walking around, you soak in the night time atmosphere. The sweat from the humans and the oil used to deep fry all sorts of food is rather distracting from the ocean scented air wafting in, but none of it is as distracting as the copper smell you pick up on one particular gust of wind. There doesn't seem to be any panic-induced mayhem on the boardwalk, so you figure someone must have cut themselves and is getting bandaged up.

A diner further down the boardwalk advertises milkshakes on its main window, and suddenly a strawberry milkshake sounds superb. So after making a quick trip inside to secure yourself a milkshake, you're back on the boardwalk once again.

No one has bothered you the entire time, but the moment you perch yourself on the railing to sip and people watch, one confident individual saunters towards you. It hardly takes you two seconds to realize this individual is in his teens obviously thinking you're a teen as well. But given you were twenty when you were turned and have spent a few years undead, you're so not interested in whatever this boy has to offer.

Before the individual can open his mouth, you hold a hand up to stall him and shake your head. "Stop right there. Not interested."

The boy's expression drops into shock before quickly morphing back into his too confident persona. "Aw, come on, girl. You look like you're in need of some fun."

"I am, but you need to be at least this tall-" you say while holding your free hand at least a foot above his head, "-for me to ride that ride."

There's a snort to your right, but you ignore it, even ignoring the presence that jumps onto the railing next to you before sliding their arm around your shoulder. "Sorry, kid. Maybe the next girl you hit on won't have a height requirement."

There's even more laughter and the boy rethinks his approach before scoffing and leaving. You grin, wrapping your lips around the straw of your milkshake and turning your head to your new companions. "Blondies one and two," you muse. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Just thought we'd play knight in shining armor," blondie one says. "I'm Paul. My friend is Marko."

"YN.."

Paul practically vibrates with energy. "So do I meet your height requirements?"

You laugh, uncaring when he steals your milkshake to sip from. "You may meet the height requirement, but I don't go for blondes. Sorry."

"Aw, chika, you wound me!" He feigns his hurt, holding a hand to his heart as you take your milkshake back. Marko can only laugh, shoving at his friend's shoulder when he leans a little too far his way. Once he corrects himself, he doesn't remove himself from your side. "So what's a pretty girl like you doing here all alone? Waiting for friends? Family?"

"Ugh, no." Your nose wrinkles. "Too much family drama for my tastes so I've been traveling the world for a little over a year now. Santa Carla seems like the least likely of places my family would think to look for me, so I'm staying as long as I can."

Marko seems interested as he leans around Paul to ask, "What's been your favorite place so far?"

"Tromsø, Norway," you reply.

"Why?"

"Because ever since I was a little girl, I've been obsessed with the aurora borealis. It's the best place to view it."

"Cool."

"Where are you staying?" Paul asks. "Maybe we can have a party one of these nights."

"Doubtful. I'm staying in a hotel suite and I have a feeling partying with you would lead to my place being trashed. No thanks."

Marko smirks. "Smart girl."

You grin and sip your milkshake as Marko comes around to lean against the railing on your other side. They ask some more about the places you've been, and you don't know what comes over you that you feel comfortable enough with these two to regale them with your tales of travel. In return, Marko and Paul tell you about themselves and their two other brothers. They tell you that they're all not originally from Santa Carla, but ended up finding each other throughout the years and made their own family unit in town.

Then just as you hop down to throw away your empty cup, the crowd seems to part as two individuals approach. Another blondie with a mullet and a brunette whose hair is almost as wild as Paul's. You can't tear your eyes from the brunette who is all too comfortable going shirtless with nothing but a weathered leather jacket hanging off his frame and some snug fitting jeans.

"Oh, I see how it is." Paul muses in your ear. "You like 'em dark haired."

You throw your elbow back, tearing your gaze away from the brunette in front of you to smirk over your shoulder at Paul when he grunts. Marko snickers at his brother's misfortune. "YN, this is David and Dwayne."

Both the new blondie and brunette nod at you, and you flash them back a faint smile. You're quick to toss your trash, then head back to your new friends. "Well, it was nice meeting you boys, but I should get going."

"Aw, come on, girlie. Hang for a bit more," Paul pleads, but you shake your head.

"Maybe next time."

"Will there actually be a next time or are you gently letting us down?" Marko wonders.

Your eyes roll. "We've only just met and you're already clingy?" You tut at him. Marko gapes and you wink at him. "Yes, there will be a next time. At least there will be if we cross paths again."

"We'll take that," Paul says. He slings an arm around Marko and smiles. "See you around, girlie."

The next afternoon, you decide to have some fun in the sun. You spend the early afternoon in your room, ordering room service and having a nice steak and fry lunch. While eating, you post a few pictures you snapped of the boardwalk nightlife, ferris wheel, and carousel all lit up. Then afterwards, you dress in a bikini before pulling on a pair of jeans shorts and a tank top. Only after slipping your feet into a pair of flip-flops do you pack a backpack with a beach towel, your phone, sunglasses, and some cash before taking your leave.

You're surprised to find that the beach isn't packed, so you pick a spot on the beach to lay out your towel and backpack. You spend a bit of time searching for sand dollars and shells, then go swimming in the ocean. Afterwards, you lay out on your towel with your sunglasses shielding your eyes. You doze on and off, and then just as the sun is setting you start to get up.

Shaking off your beach towel, you get rid of all the sand before folding it and shoving it into your backpack with your clothes. Then heading over to the beach showers, you rinse off all the sand and ocean water, and let yourself dry in the lingering sun rays before slipping your shorts back on.

In the middle of choosing what to eat, you hear catcalls and wolf whistles. You try to ignore it, hoping they're directed to someone else, but nope. They're directed at you. However, when you turn to glare and give the boys a piece of your mind, you find Paul and Marko beaming at you with their other brothers Dwayne and David just watching on.

Your glare vanishes and you roll your eyes as you slowly untense. "Do you guys have nothing better to do than check out girls on the boardwalk?"

"Nope." Paul hops off his bike and practically skips towards you. "What are you doing?"

"Heading to dinner. I spent most of the day on the beach so I'm starving."

"Ohhhh. What are we having?"

"I'm having pizza and wings. If you want to tag along, you buy your own."

"Done." He turns around and shouts, "Come on, boys. We're getting pizza!"

You shake your head and greet Marko when he approaches, smiling at the other two who have yet to speak up. Paul takes the lead and you walk side by side with Marko. The pizza place isn't far and you all head inside. You place your order first- a medium Hawaiian and a side order of boneless honey bbq wings. You accept your number tag after paying and then wait for your new friends to order as well. Then once they've got their own number tag, Paul leads the way to a large booth meant for a large group at the back.

Paul and Marko slide into opposite sides of the booth, and it only takes you a second to scoot in next to Marko before placing your bag at your feet. Paul gasps and you chuckle. "What? Marko seems less likely to continuously elbow me as I try to eat."

"That's cold, girl."

You wink at Paul and are surprised when Dwayne scoots in on your other side. David settles in next to Paul and his ice blue eyes practically pierce you. "So what's a girl like you doing out here all alone?"

"You mean Paul didn't tell you?"

"I'm asking you."

The coolness of his voice makes you arch an eyebrow at him, but Paul's snickering keeps you at ease. So in the end, you shrug. "My siblings and I weren't seeing eye to eye for a while. I had some money put away to take a trip out of the States, but my new found family wasn't having any of that and gave me access to their money. I've traveled for a year before coming back, staying in a place furthest from my hometown."

"Parents?"

"Dead." Paul's smile falters and you kick him under the table. "None of that. It's been a while. It's fine."

"How did it happen?" Marko asks.

You face him briefly before saying, "My sister had a fight with her boyfriend and asked our parents to pick her up from a party. They did, but on the way back home my dad somehow lost control of the car and drove off a bridge. A bystander found them, but by the time he dove under water, my dad made the bystander get my sister out first. My parents ended up drowning."

"Do you have plans on returning?"

"Eventually." Just then a waitress stops by to deliver your drinks. You grin as Paul immediately starts flirting, sipping your Coke as the waitress blushes and stutters before leaving. "These poor Santa Carla girls have no idea how to handle you, do they?"

"Not a clue."

As Marko and Paul laugh, you shake your head rather fondly. You don't know what it is about this group that makes you feel at ease with them, but you're glad to have some people to talk to while you're in town. Another group enters the establishment, a little unruly as they find themselves a table. One of them catches your gaze and you grimace when you notice him leering at you.

Feeling a little exposed, you reach for your bag under the table and pull free your tank top. You quickly pull it on and then free your phone while waiting for your food, not paying much attention to Dwayne who's shifting in his seat next to you. You do, however, notice when something is dropped on your shoulders and realize Dwayne has given up his jacket.

You freeze and quickly glance up at Dwayne, taking a moment to stare at all the bronze skin now on display, but his glare is directed at the table of troublemakers who are snickering among each other. "Uhh.."

"Just wear it."

"Okay."

Those are the first three words Dwayne has spoken to you and you absolutely do not shiver at the sound of his voice. Paul, Marko, and even David sense something else and you flip them off after slipping your arms through the sleeves of Dwayne's jacket. Then just as you go to sip on your drink, your phone starts ringing with a video call.

Big Bad Wolf, complete with a wolf emoji, is stamped across the top of your phone above a picture of a smirking Klaus. "Uhh, do you guys mind if I accept this?"

"Go ahead, girlie."

You accept the call, keeping it so that only you're on screen. "What do you want?"

"Is that any way to talk to me, love?" You roll your eyes, grinning, and Klaus chuckles. "What are you doing?"

"Uhh, I'm out to dinner with some new friends," you say.

"You've already made friends?"

"Mhm. Look." You turn so Marko is in frame. "This is Marko." Marko grins and nods. Then you flip the camera and catch Paul. "This is Paul and David is next to him, but David is glaring at me. I'm pretty sure he'd kill me if I put him on camera."

Klaus chuckles. "Fair enough."

"And then this.." You glance at Dwayne, but he merely arches an eyebrow at you. You grin and turn the camera on him. "This is Dwayne."

A split second later and then, "No."

"W-What?" You splutter. Paul and Marko choke on a laugh, and finally both David and Dwayne smirk. "What do you mean no?"

"Elijah!"

Your eyes widen. "Why are you calling 'lijah? Don't call 'lijah!"

Elijah appears next to Klaus and you groan. "Go on, sweetheart. Put your friend on."

"Marko? Or Paul?"

"Don't play dumb."

You grumble and put Dwayne on camera. "Absolutely not," Elijah says.

"You guys are embarrassing," you grumble. "He's literally only said three words to me."

"Mhm. And whose jacket are you wearing?" Klaus asks.

You pout. "I hate you." Just then you catch sight of two waitresses coming with your pizza. "Oh, look. Food's here! I'll talk to you gentlemen later."

"YN-"

"I'm fine, Klaus. I'm okay and I'm happy. I promise."

"Well okay then. Call me back when you get to your room."

"Will do, big bad wolf. Talk to you later."

You end the call just as a pizza is being placed in front of Paul and Marko, then yours is placed in front of you, and then another is placed in front of David and Dwayne. You're handed your boneless wings, and you happily wiggle in your seat. You're starving!

After you take your first bite of the sweet Hawaiian pizza, David asks, "So was that your boyfriend?"

"Ew. No." Your nose wrinkles and you quickly swallow your bite of food. "Klaus and Elijah are like my older brothers. They're the two who are funding my whole trip."

"They sound fancy with those posh accents of theirs," Paul muses.

"They are fancy," you admit. "They host balls and everything. I seriously hated wearing those dresses with a poofy skirt. They're so uncomfortable to sit in."

"No way!" Paul laughs.

"Mhm. Look."

As you eat some more of your food one-handed, you open the photos app on your phone and seek out the album from all the parties you attended. You hand your phone over to Paul, and Marko actually leans across the table to get a glimpse of the life you left behind.

As the two of them swipe picture after picture, laughing, you eat in peace. You even crack a grin when Dwayne picks off your tray of boneless wings, chuckling when he tells you it's payment for wearing his jacket. You end up having to tell the boys who is who every time they ask and deny any romantic relationship accusations when a picture of you dancing with Damon pops up. You admit he was a good friend up until his feelings for your sister clouded his judgment and you'd had enough of their drama.

Dinner proceeds uninterrupted, but it's when you get up to leave that the table of troublemakers from earlier causes an issue. With Dwayne's jacket returned to him, you follow the group as David leads the way out. You've just passed the table of leering individuals when a loud smack! resonates in the room and a brief stinging pain blossoms on your butt. You freeze, your new friends freeze, and then you're whirling around to glare at the culprit. You slowly look at the smug individual as his friends cackle like morons.

Anger flaring, your hand whips out and grasps the guy by the back of the neck. You slam his head down onto the table, causing him to grunt and his friends to fall quiet. You lean down so your mouth is next to his ear and grit out, "Touch me again and I'll rip your fucking throat out." You put pressure on his neck, causing the table to groan under the weight of the pressure. "With my teeth," you hiss. Pushing off the too quiet guy and facing your new friends once more, you shrug. "What?"

David, Dwayne, Marko, and Paul just stare at you before chuckling.

"You're scary, girl. I like it."

With a roll of your eyes, you step forward and push past Paul. "Come on. Show me what Santa Carla has to offer."

Over the course of a week, you hang out with who the locals have dubbed the Lost Boys. Paul and Marko treat you like a long lost best friend, Dwayne has taken to hovering over your shoulder, and David is pretty indifferent to your presence although he will stand up for you if need be. Your senses tell you there's something off about the boys, but you don't realize what it is until you scent the coppery fragrance of blood coming off of them one night they're late to meet you.

If they're vampires, they must be vampires who don't know who the Mikaelsons are because none of them recognized the family in your pictures. But you don't call them out, nor do you hint about yourself, at least not until you're walking on the beach one night and your senses are assaulted with the scent of a lot of blood and screams off in the distance.

Glancing around, you notice the boardwalk is empty and shutting down. The beach where you're at is empty as well, and as you speed towards the sound of terror, your suspicions are proven correct about the Lost Boys.

They're unlike any vampires you've seen, more brutal in their feeding than even the Big Bad Hybrid himself. Their vampire visages showcase a true monster, but for some reason it doesn't bother you as it probably should. They're sinking their fangs into necks, shoulders, torsos, and even skulls, laughing all the while their victims scream in horror.

In their feeding frenzy, they don't notice you standing just on the outskirts of the firelight. Limbs are ripped from bodies before being tossed into the fire, blood spraying carelessly across the sand. But the moment the frenzy dies down, you can't help but make an entrance.

Slowly clapping, you smirk as all four vampires freeze and turn towards you as you walk into the light. David snarls, his monstrous face still on display as Paul and Marko quickly change their features. Their expressions are a bit crestfallen as you continue to find amusement in this situation, so you walk towards Dwayne who has gone stoic. "I get the bloodlust, but do you guys have to be such messy eaters? Gross." You wrinkle your nose as you kick an arm into the raging fire.

"W-What?" Paul splutters.

Looking back at Dwayne, you reach over and run a finger through the blood staining his chest. Then popping that same finger into your mouth, you wrap your tongue around your finger and savor the fresh blood now coating your tongue. You feel the veins beneath your eyes slither to the surface and your fangs elongate in your mouth. Then meeting Dwayne's gaze, you flash him a fangy grin. "I prefer to compel, eat, and release, but you do you I guess."

"Holy shit. You- you're a vampire?!"

Meeting Marko's stunned expression, you wink.

"You have a lot of explaining to do," David says.

"Sure." You meet his now ice-blue gaze. "But only after you clean up after yourselves. This," you say while gesturing to their dismembered victims, "is sloppy."

You watch as David oversees the cleanup of their little section of the beach, burning the bodies and kicking sand over the spilled blood. Afterwards, they all take a dip in the ocean to cleanse themselves of their meal.

On the way to their bikes which are parked just a bit down the beach, Paul asks, "So how old are you?"

"Which age are you referring to? The age I was when I was turned or how many years I've been a vampire?"

"Both."

"I was turned at twenty," you say, "and I've been a vampire for less than five years."

"No shit? How were you introduced to this world?"

"That.. is a very long story. Why don't we get someplace where I can actually tell it?"

As their bikes get nearer, you hiss at Paul when he pushes you in Dwayne's direction. Almost as if it was expected of you to ride with Dwayne, he settles on the seat of his bike before offering you a hand so you can situate yourself behind him.

Hanging on loosely, you enjoy the ride and take amusement in the sudden turns and jumps they take to try and startle you. But instead of being shaken, you merely laugh and pinch Dwayne's side when you're jostled too much.

The drive to the cliffs that you know to be Hudson's Bluff, overlooking the disgruntled sea, is rather short. You have a moment to glance down a rickety, wooden staircase before the group is driving down them one by one. You're jostled even more as the bike is driven over various rocks and through a gaping hole in the fence that's meant to keep trespassers out. They drive into a cave where the bikes are then parked, and you climb off to follow Paul down a very humid path.

Swiping cobwebs, vines, and roots out of the way, you're then led into a cavernous room. There are shafts of moonlight lighting up the space, and then Paul and Marko fire up barrels all around the space. The place is trashed, but you quickly realize it's not a normal cave. There's a sofa, chairs, and a broken water fountain. There's what appears to be a long counter- or was it a desk?- and a tattered portrait hanging behind it.

"What is this place?" You ask as you glance around in wonder. They obviously made it their own- seashells and broken CDs hanging from every place available, as well as hundreds of melted candles over every surface. You even spot a mattress, pillows, and blankets hidden behind some type of gauzy material.

"This was the hottest resort back in the day," David drawls. "Too bad they built it on a fault line though. When the big one hit San Francisco in 1906, this place took a header down into the ground when it split open. It's been our home ever since."

"Nice." You plop down on a couch, sighing as you stare at each boy. "So what do you wanna know?"

"Everything." David takes a seat on a wheelchair, staring right at you. "Start from the beginning."

"Fair enough. I was born and raised in Mystic Falls, Virginia to parents who ran their own business. I didn't want for anything and ended up being a letdown when I wasn't into pageants as my mother hoped I would be."

"Did your parents even die by drowning?" Marko asks.

"Yes. That was true," you tell him. "After their death, my aunt Jenna took in me, Elena, and Jeremy. Both my siblings grieved differently, but when the new school year started, my sister did a complete turnaround when Stefan Salvatore entered the picture."

"Why do I get the feeling this Salvatore dude is a major player in your story?" Paul asks.

"Because he is. Unbeknownst to any of us, Stefan Salvatore was vampire number one. He was drawn to Mystic Falls all because of my sister Elena."

"Why your sister?" Dwayne asks, startling you. He rarely spoke up, but when he did, you couldn't help but be drawn to him.

"Do you guys know what a doppelganger is?" At their nods, you explain. "Elena was the latest human doppelganger. The previous doppelganger, Katherine, toyed with two brothers back in 1864. The Salvatore brothers, to be exact."

"Shit." Paul giggles. "Talk about a vampire novella."

"Anyway, Katherine toyed with Damon's feelings and made him fall in love with her. When she tried the same with Stefan, he resisted so she compelled him to love her. And then when it came to light that there were many vampires in town, every vampire was rounded up, vervained, and anyone who associated with them were killed. As it just so happens, the Salvatore brothers' father found out his sons were romantically linked with Katherine, so he shot them. Unfortunately for him, Katherine had been feeding the boys her blood, so when they were killed, they didn't stay dead for long.

"Fast forward to the present time and both Salvatores are now salivating for the newest doppelganger. Only this time, Stefan has fallen in love with Elena without any compulsion, and so has Damon. Katherine's apparently been keeping tabs on the brothers and she's not happy that Elena has the love of the brothers."

David makes a motion with his hand to hurry you along. "How did you turn?"

"Katherine has made it her mission to make Elena's life a living hell, so what better way than to kill one of her best friends and older sister?"

Paul gapes. "You're joking."

"Nope. The crazy bitch fed me her blood before snapping my neck, then smothered Caroline who happened to have Damon's blood in her system. When we woke up in transition and fed on human blood to complete the transition, half of our friends turned on us. We had to rely on Damon and Stefan to teach us to control our bloodlust, but things were never the same. And to top it all off, learning to become a vampire was the least of our worries."

"What's more important than knowing you've died and have to kill people to survive?"

"How about that one of the Original vampires- who is over a thousand years old, by the way- needs the blood of a human doppelganger to break the curse on him, so he decides it's his turn to make your family's life hell as well?"

"Oh shit. What curse?" Paul asks.

You slowly smirk. "Niklaus Mikaelson is not just one of the original vampires, but he's the one and only original hybrid. He's half vampire, half wolf, and one of the most lethal individuals that still walks this earth."

The boys fall silent, but then Marko speaks up.

"Hold on. The dude funding your trip around the world is the same person who made your life a living hell?"

"Yep," you muse. "We were at each other's throats for the longest time, then his sister killed my sister which turned her into a vampire as well, and there was just a shit load more drama with doppelgangers, witches, werewolves, and hybrids." You shrug. "Elijah was never truly terrible, so I spoke more with him first, but then Klaus really took the brother role to heart. The Mikaelsons have kind of adopted me, and my siblings and friends didn't take too kindly to that. So, to avoid all the drama, I left. And now here I am."

For the rest of the late night and early morning, you answer all questions you can. Paul and Marko are interested to see the differences between you and them, but David and Dwayne are more interested in learning about the Original vampires and their unique differences. Their biggest hangup, however, is that the sun has no effect on you like it does them. Sure you both will catch on fire, but it doesn't pull you to sleep the day away like it does them. You're a bit jealous that they can fly, but you're so much faster than any of them.

The moment David mentions the impending sunrise is your cue to go, so you bid farewell to your friends before winking at Paul and disappearing before they can even blink.

For the next couple of days, you keep yourself busy by running some errands for Klaus. You meet with vampires and piss off a couple of werewolf packs, but all in all the work gets done. You hadn't been able to keep in touch with the Lost Boys, so Paul and Marko whoop in cheer when they spot you.

"Well if it isn't Miss Mystic Falls," Paul muses. "Where the hell have you been, chika?"

"Sorry. Sorry!" You lean against the railing in between the group, grimacing. "I had a few things to do and since you're all allergic to modern technology, I couldn't text or call."

"Anything we need to know about?" David wonders.

Normally you'd say no, but Santa Carla is his territory and you don't want any bad blood with him. "Not really. I had a few things to pick up for Klaus and a few messages to deliver to some werewolf packs up North."

David frowns. "There are packs nearby?"

"The closest one is fifty miles out, but they're all pretty scared of Klaus and what he can do so they stay in line. If there's anything to worry about, it's any lone wolves who decide to take shelter in the woods around Hudson's Bluff and don't give a flying fuck about the Original Hybrid."

"Pft. We can take on a rogue werewolf if need be," Paul says.

"You say that now, but you won't be saying much when you get bitten by one. Remember, werewolf bites are lethal to us vampires." Paul's smugness dims. "Now who's good to eat around here? I didn't have time to grab some blood bags from the hospital."

"Stay away from the Surf Nazis," Dwayne says.

"Surf Nazis? What the hell kind of name is that?" Your nose wrinkles in distaste.

"A name that they've had since the eighties," Marko says. "It just stuck because they're still a bunch of racist and bigoted pricks."

"Fair enough. So, if I can't eat them, who can I eat?"

All four boys readily scan the crowd, excited at the prospect of picking your dinner.

"Do you have a preference? Male or female?" David asks.

"No junkies and I'm good with either male or female."

After mere seconds, David already has his pick. "On your three. Group of guys keep glancing this way. I'm pretty sure they're not checking Marko out."

You subtly glance at them and figure any one of them is good enough. "Alright. Since you guys are intimidating as fuck, you're gonna say goodbye and go do your own thing. Whoever approaches me first is dinner."

"Boo. You're no fun." Paul's the first hop off his bike, giving you a side hug. "We'll be watching from the roof."

"Of course you will." You roll your eyes, laughing.

Marko winks at you as he follows after Paul, David nods at you, but it's Dwayne who makes you arch an eyebrow at him as he glares at the group of guys before leaving. You chuckle at the oddness of it all before shaking it off and then pulling out your phone to kill some time.

It doesn't take long at all for someone to approach you and you easily fall into the role of the lone human girl way too easily. You chat for a bit and find out he's in fact in college, on break for a week and just looking for some fun. You tell him you're taking a gap year, just passing through Santa Carla and was hoping for some fun as well. His lecherous grin lets him know you have him on the hook.

"Wanna take a ride on the ferris wheel?" He asks.

"I'll do you one better. I say we visit an alley away from prying eyes without giving any ride operators an eye full."

"Oh, fuck yes."

Smirking in triumph, you hop off the railing and grab up the guy's hand. You briefly meet his friends' gaze before winking at them, leading their friend off to what they think is going to be a very good time. For you it will be, but for him? Not so much.

Once at an alley that doesn't have much traffic passing by either end, you lure the guy inside. In the middle of the alley, you turn so your back is against the wall and let him grab you by the hips. But as you cradle his face before he kisses you, you meet his gaze and say, "Don't scream. Don't fight. This will be painless."

The guy goes quiet, and you let your face change before his very eyes. He tenses, but he stays stock still without uttering a peep. Then reaching around to grasp the hair at the back of his head, you angle his head so you can sink your fangs into his neck. You drink and drink, satiating your thirst while listening for the first skip of his heart. When you've had enough, you clean his neck wound of any blood and then prick your tongue with a fang to smear your own blood on the bite wound. It heals after a minute, and you pull back to meet his gaze once more.

"When you get back to your friends, you're gonna be smug but also a little bit let down. Admit I'm the greatest kisser you've ever had, but before we could get to any of the good stuff, we were interrupted by a homeless couple."

"We were interrupted by a homeless couple," he parrots back.

"Good boy. Now to make things more believable..." You slowly smirk before pulling him close, capturing his lips with your own.

The guy is shaken out of his compulsion and his arms wrap low around your waist to pull you even closer to him. You kiss him roughly to make sure his lips appear swollen and even muss his hair up. But the moment you reach under his shirt and rake your nails across his back, causing him to groan, you hear someone drop down beside you.

One second, you're enjoying a kiss and the next your victim is shoved away from you. Dwayne practically puts himself between you and your meal as he snarls, "Get. Lost."

The other individuals drop down into the alley, and you meet three amused expressions. Paul and Marko are snickering quietly whereas David is smirking at his dark-haired brother.

"You alright there, Dwayne?"

Dwayne turns, expression unimpressed at David's question. Instead of answering him, he turns his stare on you. "What?" You feign innocence. "I had to sell it. His friends needed to believe I brought him in here for anything other than feeding."

"Whatever. Next time, just kill the guy."

As Dwayne stalks off, you smile at his back. The moment he disappears, you ask, "Was that- was that jealousy?"

"Yep." Paul skips to you, draping an arm around your shoulders. "Dwayne's always been possessive, but it's been a long time since he took real interest in someone."

"This is going to be fun," Marko muses.

You roll your eyes and sigh but can't help but agree.

Over the course of another few days, it's now very obvious that Dwayne's hovering wasn't just because you were a female. He most definitely knows you can take care of yourself, yet he's still there, but now he's openly snarling when someone looks at you a little too long. To placate him, you only ride with him and pull him into the V of your thighs when you're sitting on the railing. He starts tensing up the moment you all people watch for your next meal and other guys stare back, but the tension drops from his shoulders when you hop onto the railing, pull him into the V of your thighs, and hug him from behind.

Nothing intimate happens between you and Dwayne, but it becomes an unspoken rule among the small coven that you're off limits.

Everything seems to be going well until you meet the boys on the boardwalk one night and David looks livid.

Your smile instantly vanishes. "What's wrong?"

"The woods smell like fuckin' dog," he seethes.

Immediately your gaze snaps towards the sky and your heart sinks. "It's a full moon."

"We know. We're gonna try and kill this wolf for stepping into our territory and pissin' all over the place."

"What?" Your voice is lethally quiet as you meet David's gaze. "You have to be joking. One bite- hell, even one nip!- is a death sentence."

"We'll be fine. We just thought we'd let you know."

As they turn to mount their bikes, you swear. "Goddammit. Wait for me. You're not doing this alone."

You climb onto the back of Dwayne's bike, wrapping your arms around his waist as you glare at the others for their idiotic choices. They're quite solemn as they drive to the woods, and you keep your eyes peeled for the werewolf in question. As they come to a stop, you climb off and glance around the eerily quiet woods.

"So do you have any tips on tracking a werewolf?" Paul muses.

You gulp. "It's a full moon and this wolf most likely claimed these woods as theirs. It'll be hunting us."

The boys chuckle and start walking, combing the woods for any sight of the wolf. It isn't long until a twig snaps- a twig that neither you nor the boys have stepped on. You all freeze.

"Showtime?" Marko wonders.

You sigh. "Be prepared to run. Werewolves can match a vampire's speed on the nights of a full moon."

"We'll be alright."

Almost as soon as the words leave Marko's mouth, the werewolf rushes in. It takes down Paul by his knees, standing on his back and snarling. Before he can snap his jaws, you rush over and kick the werewolf to send it flying.

"What the fuck was that?!" Paul incredulously asks as he hurriedly climbs back to his feet.

"A werewolf," you deadpan. "Keep your guard up. It'll come back."

For a few minutes, it seems like the werewolf is toying with all of you. It keeps knocking down the boys, snarling before disappearing. You've kicked it off your friends three times by now, but the second you hear a howl in the distance, you and the boys freeze.

"There's a second one?" You ask. David shrugs and you bite your tongue to keep from giving him a verbal lashing. "It was stupid to do this on the night of a full moon. We need to leave right now, and I'll do my best to sniff out the werewolves tomorrow so we can handle them when they're in their human forms."

"How much harder can two werewolves be?"

"Pretty fuckin' hard, David. I know you're a badass and all, but we need to do this another night."

Before David can answer, Dwayne shouts. You whirl around, eyes widening at seeing a werewolf pinning him to the ground with its sharp teeth inches from his face. Without thinking, you fly at the wolf, tackling it off of him. You and the wolf scramble for the upper hand and you hiss when there's a pain in your shoulder.

Eventually, you manage to pin the wolf to the ground by its neck and shove your hand into its chest cavity to yank out its heart. With the wolf dead, you toss the heart aside. "Now will you listen to me? This was such a stupid fucking idea." The boys remain quiet, staring at her.

Actually, they're staring at your shoulder.

"What?"

Dwayne steps forward, carefully reaching for your arm and pulling you a step towards him. You frown, but then hiss when he moves the neckline of your shirt off your shoulder. "You're bit."

Your heart falls into your stomach and you quickly glance at the shoulder that you now realize is burning. Your eyes fill with tears. "O-Oh."

"Oh? Oh?!" Dwayne nearly shouts. "Werewolf bites are lethal, remember? How could you be so goddamn stupid?!"

Your bottom lip trembles. "I'm well aware of that, Dwayne. I was the one who told you to hunt the werewolf another night, remember?" You sigh and pull your hand free from his grasp. You take a moment to collect your thoughts before admitting, "There's a cure. Only a select few know and the cure is hard to get your hands on unless you're on friendly terms with those who have access to it. It's not my secret to divulge, so I was compelled to not say anything unless it was an emergency."

"What is it?" Dwayne asks. "We'll get it."

"You can't. But I can," you admit. "Let's just get to the cave. I have a phone call to make."

So, for part two, do we want the Mystic Falls gang to follow Klaus to Santa Carla or do we want the Santa Carla gang to visit Mystic Falls?

[suguwu]

Bee I am unwell after you said Suguru lays with you first on your wedding night and then after seeing them being a little bit together more I had the terrible thought of

Reader being nervous on the wedding night between it being their first time, their first time with someone who isnt their husband, and of course you husband is watching as his lover and his wife lay together. Thinking about Suguru taking the lobe kf your ear in his teeth after laving your neck with his tongue and teeth and saying "if you want I can take him after I take you. That way you'll both have a proper wedding night - you could watch him as well." Blood rushes to places its never been before and a sound escapes you before you slap your hand over mouth while your husband chuckles breathlessly from his spot in tbe corner

Bee please mercy I cannot I'm unwell when it comes to period dramas

listen suguru fucking you on your and satoru's wedding night is SO important to me. the sheer manipulation that went into it on their part. the sheer scandal of it. it's delicious.

and THIS is delicious. i hope you're okay with me doing my interpretation of it!

f!reader, yandere kinda implied, manipulation.

—

it is a whirlwind, your wedding night, and you are dizzy with pleasure. you have never been touched before, never known the heat of another body between your legs. it's heady; it leaves you drunk on it.

you are so dizzy with it that it takes a moment to realize that the man you are kissing is not your husband.

suguru kisses like a surgeon: careful, precise, and cutting. he takes you apart with his lips, opens you on his tongue, splits you like ripe, wet fruit beneath the knife. you whine into his mouth.

he pulls back with an exhaled breath; you follow him without thought, the tide to his moon. he laughs.

"eager," he says. you blink slowly, your mind honeyed, a sweet, languid drip.

"satoru—"

"right here," comes your husband's voice. you glance over and find him seated on a chair beside the bed. his eyes gleam, a comet-kissed gaze, sparking blue.

"i don't—" you pause, gasping as suguru mouths at your jawline, licking a line down the column of your neck. you tremble. "is this—"

satoru laughs and dips down to kiss your question away. you close your eyes and push into it, craving the familiar taste of him.

"be good for suguru, like you'd be good for me."

"but it's—"

"our wedding night."

"yes," you say, voice breaking as suguru sinks his teeth into the join of your neck and shoulder. your fingers fly into his hair, as dark as a raven's wing, knotting the silken strands in your fist.

satoru groans low in his throat, leaning down to kiss you again. "pull," he whispers against your lips. "he likes it."

your head spins.

"but he's not—"

suguru hums, glancing up at you. "have you not thought about me?" he croons.

you have. both of them, really, in the deepest reaches of the night, when the moon is a lonely mirror hung high in the sky. imagined their mouth on yours, their hands tight around your waist.

but never together.

something buds in you, heated and wet like a summer's eve. it blooms, floral and sweet, settles between your ribs before spiraling lower. you take in a gasping breath.

satoru laughs. "i think that's a yes."

suguru presses a kiss to your nipple, his mouth hot and wet even through the cloth of your nightclothes. "let me show you what you've thought about," he says, his hand slipping up your thigh. "satoru doesn't mind."

you glance to your husband. he grins, wide and white, a lighthouse in the candle's dim.

"i don't," he says.

suguru cups you; you bite back the gasp. he leans up and kisses you again, that slow, careful surgery of a kiss. his tongue weaves with yours. you arch into him, head spinning again, drunk off the taste of him.

when he pulls your undergarments aside, you look again to satoru.

suguru pulls back from the kiss, nuzzles against your ear. he licks the shell of it, a slow, sticky lave of his pink tongue.

"if you'd like," he murmurs. "i can take him first. so you can see what it is like."

"take him?"

"fuck him."

you draw in a breath, stunned by his mouth. satoru laughs again and leans forward.

this time, he kisses suguru.

you watch, stunned, as they melt into each other. it's a dance of their own, something so known that it almost aches to bear witness to it. they kiss each other until they're panting.

satoru pulls back and noses against suguru's cheek.

"fuck her first," he says, glancing to where you're spread out on your marriage bed. "i want to see."

[opencommunion]

"Dead are my people, gone are my people, but I exist yet, lamenting them in my solitude. Dead are my friends, and in their death my life is naught but great disaster. The knolls of my country are submerged by tears and blood, for my people and my beloved are gone, and I am here living as I did when my people and my beloved were enjoying life and the bounty of life, and when the hills of my country were blessed and engulfed by the light of the sun. My people died from hunger, and he who did not perish from starvation was butchered with the sword; and I am here in this distant land, roaming amongst a joyful people who sleep upon soft beds, and smile at the days while the days smile upon them. My people died a painful and shameful death, and here am I living in plenty and in peace. This is deep tragedy ever enacted upon the stage of my heart; few would care to witness this drama, for my people are as birds with broken wings, left behind the flock. If I were hungry and living amid my famished people, and persecuted among my oppressed countrymen, the burden of the black days would be lighter upon my restless dreams, and the obscurity of the night would be less dark before my hollow eyes and my crying heart and my wounded soul. For he who shares with his people their sorrow and agony will feel a supreme comfort created only by suffering in sacrifice. And he will be at peace with himself when he dies innocent with his fellow innocents. But I am not living with my hungry and persecuted people who are walking in the procession of death toward martyrdom. I am here beyond the broad seas living in the shadow of tranquillity, and in the sunshine of peace. I am afar from the pitiful arena and the distressed, and cannot be proud of ought, not even of my own tears. What can an exiled son do for his starving people, and of what value unto them is the lamentation of an absent poet?

Were I an ear of corn grown in the earth of my country, the hungry child would pluck me and remove with my kernels the hand of Death form his soul. Were I a ripe fruit in the gardens of my country, the starving women would gather me and sustain life. Were I a bird flying the sky of my country, my hungry brother would hunt me and remove with the flesh of my body the shadow of the grave from his body. But, alas! I am not an ear of corn grown in the plains of Syria, nor a ripe fruit in the valleys of Lebanon; this is my disaster, and this is my mute calamity which brings humiliation before my soul and before the phantoms of the night. This is the painful tragedy which tightens my tongue and pinions my arms and arrests me usurped of power and of will and of action. This is the curse burned upon my forehead before God and man.

And oftentimes they say unto me, the disaster of your country is but naught to calamity of the world, and the tears and blood shed by your people are as nothing to the rivers of blood and tears pouring each day and night in the valleys and plains of the earth. Yes, but the death of my people is a silent accusation; it is a crime conceived by the heads of the unseen serpents. It is a sceneless tragedy. And if my people had attacked the despots and oppressors and died rebels, I would have said, 'Dying for freedom is nobler than living in the shadow of weak submission, for he who embraces death with the sword of Truth in his hand will eternalize with the Eternity of Truth, for Life is weaker than Death and Death is weaker than Truth.' If my nation had partaken in the war of all nations and had died in the field of battle, I would say that the raging tempest had broken with its might the green branches; and strong death under the canopy of the tempest is nobler than slow perishment in the arms of senility. But there was no rescue from the closing jaws. My people dropped and wept with the crying angels. If an earthquake had torn my country asunder and the earth had engulfed my people into its bosom, I would have said, 'A great and mysterious law has been moved by the will of divine force, and it would be pure madness if we frail mortals endeavoured to probe its deep secrets.' But my people did not die as rebels; they were not killed in the field of battle; nor did the earthquake shatter my country and subdue them. Death was their only rescuer, and starvation their only spoils.

My people died on the cross. They died while their hands stretched toward the East and West, while the remnants of their eyes stared at the blackness of the firmament. They died silently, for humanity had closed its ears to their cry. They died because they did not befriend their enemy. They died because they loved their neighbours. They died because they placed trust in all humanity. They died because they did not oppress the oppressors. They died because they were the crushed flowers, and not the crushing feet. They died because they were peace makers. They perished from hunger in a land rich with milk and honey. They died because monsters of hell arose and destroyed all that their fields grew, and devoured the last provisions in their bins. They died because the vipers and sons of vipers spat out poison into the space where the Holy Cedars and the roses and the jasmine breathe their fragrance. My people and your people, my Syrian Brothers, are dead. What can be done for those who are dying? Our lamentations will not satisfy their hunger, and our tears will not quench their thirst; what can we do to save them between the iron paws of hunger? My brother, the kindness which compels you to give a part of your life to any human who is in the shadow of losing his life is the only virtue which makes you worthy of the light of day and the peace of the night. Remember, my brother, that the coin which you drop into the withered hand stretching toward you is the only golden chain that binds your rich heart to the loving heart of God."

Gibran Khalil Gibran, "Dead Are My People," written during the Great Famine of Mount Lebanon, in which 200,000 people were starved to death by a blockade imposed by European forces to weaken their Ottoman opponents in World War I. The man-made famine killed one in three people in Beirut and the surrounding Mount Lebanon Mutasarrifate (which encompassed today's North, Keserwan-Jbeil, and Mount Lebanon governorates). This peasant population was strangled by threefold oppression: from the European imperialist war machine, Ottoman Turkish imperial oversight, and the local capitalist class. The boom and bust of the global silk industry, monopolized by France, destroyed Mount Lebanon's silk-centered economy shortly before the war, leaving the population impoverished and vulnerable. The famine was key to the European victory which led to the occupation and partition of the Levant and enabled the colonization of Palestine. The partition placed Lebanon under French control, fulfilling a longstanding French colonial desire for Lebanese land and labor.

Further reading/listening: Graham Auman Pitts, "Was Capitalism the Crisis? Mount Lebanon's World War I Famine" and "A Hungry Population Stops Thinking About Resistance: Class, Famine, and Lebanon's World War I Legacy" Kais Firro, "Silk and Agrarian Changes in Lebanon, 1860-1914" Melanie Tanielian, "The War of Famine: Everyday Life in Wartime Beirut and Mount Lebanon (1914-1918)" and The Charity of War: Famine, Humanitarian Aid, and World War I in the Middle East The Fire These Times, Lina Mounzer and Timour Azhari, Legacy of the Great Lebanon Famine (audio)

[opencharacters]

Copyright Smuggling: Doctor Who

I've talked in the past about how The Doctor not having a name or permanent appearance is very easily molded to be put into your own derivative fiction.

Even so, perhaps you want to incorporate more whovian elements into your story. While things like the Daleks are obviously off the table, there are characters and enemies that are public domain in the whoniverse that are ripe for the picking.

I'm linking pages to the public domain versions of these characters. But have listed here where they show up in the Doctor Who expanded universe.

Cernunnos - Leader of the Original Mammoths (proposed identity of "the Enemy" from the War in Heaven) appeared first in the Faction Paradox books The Book of the War.

Doctor Omega - 1906 novel about a scientist who builds a machine that can travel through time and space. He's similar enough to be able to be molded into the role of the Doctor.

Dorian Gray - Character from the Bernice Summerfield audio drama "Shades of Gray" that has similar abilities of eternal youth as the literary character we know. He eventually got his own Big Finish audio drama series The Confessions of Dorian Gray

Ganieda - Said to be Merlin's sister in the short story A Honeycomb of Souls.

Hastur the Unspeakable - Fenric according to the novel All-Consuming Fire

Merlin - From various accounts is suggested to be an incarnation of the doctor, including the aforementioned A Honeycomb of Souls

Nyarlathotep - Suggested to be the doctor in the novel The Death of Art

Sherlock Holmes - According to The Book of the Enemy during the War in Heaven although he was a real person in the whoniverse his life got erased and turned into fiction

Thomas Carnacki - Has met the second doctor as well as Vastra, Jenny Flint, and Strax according to The Screaming Ceiling audio and the Foreign Devils novel

Yog-Sothoth - The Great Intelligence according to the book Millennial Rites

In addition to this there's also the Land of Fiction which is a realm canon to the doctor who series filled with public domain characters

Go forth and write your Doctor Who pastiches, nothing is stopping ya!

[lundenloves]

that’ll do, johnny

This was a request, put in via submission. “Soap x soulmate au? Any au” I ran with my words a little here, I find it easy to write for Soap as he’s dead fun. Hope I proved this man worthy of the hype he deserves. Happy reading, kids.

↳ no warnings | gn!reader | 1.1k

good ‘ol johnny boy. apologise in advance for the scots words, they’re pretty self explanatory if you read between the lines. wain is a child.

At the end of the day.

You and Soap, or Johnny rather, were joined at the fucking hip. That duo who always showed up together, never apart for as long as they could help. It’d been that way since childhood, rainy days in Paisley after his parents had moved back down to the central belt. Pushing and chasing one another around the dull streets, name calling and loud laughs all the way through till late adolescence. Absolutely fuck-all came between you aside from his burning love for Rangers and yours for Celtic.

Match days were a fight, no doubt.

When he joined the Army it pissed you off. You’d known he was going to, christ, it’s all he’d yapped on about till he was old enough. But saying that last goodbye to him selfishly kicked up a storm in your stomach, willingly forgetting to recognise it was all he’d ever wanted. His dream, if you will.

But he wrote you letters, regardless of your sour faced send-off. Letters you’d dampened with tears, allowing the ink to run free across the page, now barely legible. His handwriting was barely legible anyway, but the tears certainly didn’t help.

Didn’t stop you from stashing them into a box under your bed though. An Adidas shoe box titled: ‘Fucker.’ You never were one for warmth.

And over time that box filled with all sorts of shite. His letters, patches, some photos — fuck even a few sticks and random fabrics he’d sent in envelopes with loads of ‘ha ha ha’s’ written on the back. When he got home you’d showed him said box and he still laughed with himself at the sticks.

“Got that in Azerbaijan, I mind picking them up.” His voice would rise in pitch, defending his past self.

Not that he had anything to defend. You’re the one that kept them.

Different story when he’d found the letters. Fuck, that was a day and a half. “You kept these aye?” He’d skimmed through the crumpled paper, “Greetin’ on them too.” A nudge of your shoulder

And that right there was the hour your friendship had transcended into something more. The whole hour actually, feelings were shared and truths came out. Johnny knew. Of course he knew. But you confirming his thoughts felt like getting into bed after a long day. Banging.

After that his deployments were all a routine. You’d cry, hate him for a maximum of a week for leaving you behind in the shithole that was Glasgow, receive a letter and then miss him. Repeat.

Above all else though, you were soulmates and that was absolutely undeniable. Finishing one another’s sentences, laughing until your sides hurt, speaking in silence by exchanging looks across rooms and dining tables. You’d even share your work gossip with him any chance you got, and he’d match your drama with his own, forever the menace even in such a serious profession. Additionally, letting you test your chances against wrestling him from time to time. Never did let you win though.

“That’d be you cheating.” He’d say as his arms pinned you down, “You’re no even tryin’ are you?”

Windup. Merchant.

“How’d they even let you in, you’re a big wain.” You’d frown at him, attempting to kick his stomach only resulting in a grapple to the floor.

“They let me in ‘cos i’m class.”

There wasn’t anything specific about Johnny that made you love him. It was a mix of everything, time included as you’d convinced yourself it was love from the ripe old age of thirteen. And actually, so did he. Whether it was a platonic love he’d recognised or something more — he told you all the time. Forever the emotional soul, Johnny. “I love you, y’know, kid.” Even though you were the same age. “You’re the one darlin’, marriage!” All slurred whenever you’d picked him up from a drunken night out, allowing him to crash in your bed.

He was a softy, really.

Again. Not that it was a secret.

You loved the way his eyes turned soft whenever listening to you, always finding yours in a room full of people. The hand he instinctively placed on your lower back when walking you through a crowd. His dirty cackle. The smile he produced enough to cover for both of you, the story-teller in him and the proud compliments he gracefully gave you in public.

But Johnny loved even more about yourself.

He loved your attitude and the way you stood up for yourself. ‘Bite n Fight’ as he liked to call it. He loved your eyes and how expressive they were, your brows that never failed to host a frown you weren’t even aware of. Each and every one of your habits, ones he’d always take for granted before leaving for months at a time. Your gorgeous smile and that dip on your bottom lip that was only reserved for his. Your roaming hands, the way they wandered up toward his hair whenever you’d kiss him deeply, pulling at the roots lightly but still tight enough to provoke a growl from him.

He just loved you.

So that night last Summer when he’d finally got down on one knee and fumbled his way through a speech, making himself (and you) laugh in the process. It was fucking emotional. “I ‘adn’t prepared one.” He’d smile with his teeth together, lifting his shoulders up toward his neck in laughter. “Yes or no. Christ, my knee can’t handle this.”

“Yeah. Yes, obviously yes.” You waved your hands in a gesture for him to stand up, laughing loudly into the night sky when he had lifted you up and kissed all over your neck.

Soulmates were an odd concept.

You never thought you’d meet yours, not until Johnny had stuck around and practically taught you the definition of the word over years. Landing the MacTavish name and unlocking endless boring stories about his family history and the clan.

Although, you’d be lying to say you didn’t enjoy the way his face lit up when telling you about it all. As if you weren’t Scottish yourself, and hadn’t heard his stories over a hundred times.

“You’re no even listening, mate.” He’d quirk a brow, stretching over the table to bosh your flat palms with his own.

“Don’t fuckin’ mate me. And I do listen, thanks. All Highland and…” You’d drag out the last letter before a long pause. “Stuff.”

“Yer a minx.” He’d push a hand through your hair to purposely mess it and wind you up, receiving a smack to his still outstretched palm. Loud laugh filling the room as well as your heart.

taglist? fill out this form.

[charmwasjess]

Your opinions on Rael Aveross? Yee-haw, or no howdy?

Oh, YEE-HAW. Giddy up, Rael Averross!

I admit, it took me a sec to warm up to Rael. If you include Dooku's Sith-era when he was self-medicating with apprentices, the man trained so many students already, characters ripe to be fleshed out, and now instead they invent a new one?? And it's this cowboy-ass talking motherfucker?? (The audiobook voice didn't do me any favors.)

But THEN. Rael. Under that crack cowboy exterior, this is such a fascinating character. He is clearly Dooku's firstborn son - a duelist, Council problem child, card-carrying disaster lineage asshole with all the requisite drama and trauma - but he also has some wonderful warmth to the character. He treats Qui-Gon like a baby brother. He checks in on Dooku's emotional health repeatedly and isn't afraid to speak the truth in love to him. (Hell, he confronts him about his feelings for Sifo-Dyas?) He talks about Master and Padawan dynamics in terms of love and family. He's physically affectionate. He smokes, he curses, he drinks. He fucks. He also says, of Yoda, and I'm quoting directly from Gray's Master and Apprentice novel here: "up the hell, he should shut." There was no going back for me with the character at that point.

I think I like Rael most of all for how he shows us what a Jedi can look like. And for how tremendously his inclusion fleshes out Dooku, in turn, especially early in his life.

[skeletonpunching]

Buddy Daddies interview with Toyonaga Toshiyuki and Uchiyama Koki

Interview with Toyonaga Toshiyuki and Uchiyama Koki (voice actors for Kurusu Kazuki and Suwa Rei) Interviewer: As we look back on "Buddy Daddies" up to this point - first of all, how do you feel about the early plot developments?

Toyonaga: The very beginning of episode 1 was an incredibly hard-boiled action scene, and then episode 2 was a total about-face - from that point on, it became more of a sitcom. I think that tonal shift was very intriguing, and everyone in the audience might have wondered, "Just where will things go from here?"

Uchiyama: It all started with a scene of assassins carrying out a mission, and the "assassins" premise itself was a very anime-typical hook in the first place. It seemed likely that there would be all sorts of drama, and so I expected a large proportion of the anime to be dedicated to that. But just like Toyonaga-san said, as the story progressed, the sitcom elements were unexpectedly pronounced; that left a strong impression on me as well.

Interviewer: Since then, Kurusu Kazuki, Suwa Rei, and Unasaka Miri have fully become a "family" - in review, are there any episodes that left a particular impression on you?

Toyonaga: Well, it's a fact that Kazuki and Rei are assassins, and they really did kill Miri's father...

Uchiyama: That was quite a grim start to the story, wasn't it.

Toyonaga: It sure was. And so the two of them find themselves obligated to look after this child, and they grapple with the conflicted feelings of "surely we can't actually bring her up, can we?" That's the first half of the series. Kazuki gets proactive about the parenting thing from pretty early on, but Rei's values and mindset change bit by bit over time... The part around episodes 8 and 9, when he reaches the point of thinking "it would be nice if life could go on like this", was very memorable. 

Uchiyama: Episodes 8 and 9 left a real impression on me too. Episode 8 focuses on Rei's biological family, and it depicts a tragic battle with a character who seemed closely connected with Rei in the past. So going from that to the events of sports day in episode 9 is a major shift for him. At first, Rei wasn't especially keen on parenting or living together with a child, but now he's shouting at the top of his lungs in order to cheer for Miri. I found that scene incredibly dramatic. In the recording sessions for the early episodes, I was often directed to perform Rei with more "restraint", so it came as a real shock to raise my voice during sports day and shout "Go for it!" But looking back upon the story as a whole, I've tried to portray his gradual transformation over time; that was the moment it really hit me.

Interviewer: What do you think of Kazuki and Rei's buddy relationship?

Uchiyama: The "buddy concept" is fundamental to the series, but since Miri has been part of the mix right from the start, I have a stronger impression of them as a "trio", when it comes down to it. In a manner of speaking, I think this is a story about the buddies being wrapped around Miri's finger.

Toyonaga: Kazuki and Rei each have their own dark pasts and traumatic burdens, but they've never experienced what regular children go through while growing up and as teens. Of course, the setup of these two falling under the sway of the innocent Miri might be kind of disorienting, but it sure is ripe for drama. There were just so many points where I thought, "Right, of course that's how it'd go!" In that sense, I think the balance of the three-person dynamic is absolutely perfect. And as for my approach as an actor - I give a pretty aggressive performance, so sometimes I'm really riding roughshod over Ucchi (Uchiyama)... Rei is a character who has to be defined in direct opposition to Kazuki, so I'm always like, "Ucchi, I'm so sorry." (laughs)

Uchiyama: No, no, not at all! (laughs) If anything, I really enjoy those plot developments of Rei getting pushed around. The story is richly varied, and every episode has a major shift in tone, so even we actors have a lot of fun during the recording sessions. Speaking from the audience perspective, I think this series was designed to keep the viewers hooked to the very end.

Interviewer: The ins and outs of parenting are very realistically depicted. Which of those scenes left the strongest impression on you?

Toyonaga: Out of everything till now? It's got to be the episode where they send her to daycare.  

Uchiyama: The rules and minutiae of what you have to bring to daycare really are so detailed.

Toyonaga: There's a whole list.

Uchiyama: And you need to put the name on every single thing. It was fun seeing Kazuki getting so worked up over that.

Toyonaga: I bet all the fathers and mothers of the world who've been through the same thing looked at Kazuki and Rei and went, "Right, right! It's tough, isn't it!" It's like Kazuki and Rei are receiving messages from all these viewers, and that leads to a reversal of the original setup. That's the point where I really sensed how far we'd come from episode 1's plot, and how unexpected this gap was. And this is a minor thing, but: Rei sleeping in the bathroom. It felt like a fantasy element in the middle of all this realism - that's the kind of deft balance only an anime can pull off.

Interviewer: Throughout all these interviews, we've heard from members of the staff that Toyonaga-san's performance of Kazuki and Uchiyama-san's performance of Rei "feel like the script was written for them". How do you feel about these comments?

Toyonaga: We were selected through auditions, but if that's how they feel after taking a chance on us, then I'm truly honoured as an actor. Everyone on the production team, starting with Director Asai, has given us a lot of leeway with the performances, and I think that's a huge part of it as well. Even if we take an odd or unexpected approach to the material, they allow it, and they have the capacity to chew it over and examine it closely. That's part of what brings all this together.

Uchiyama: When it comes to an original series, the cast is always wondering how the series will turn out. I suppose those on the staff side don't wonder quite as much as us, but I'm sure there are also things they don't know until they actually get going. For adaptations, the creators often turn to the source material for answers, but in an original series, the image of the characters is truly solidified by listening to the actual voices during the recording sessions. I think that's the true charm of an original series.

Toyonaga: When I think about it, it's a real privilege as an actor - receiving the outline of a character and getting to flesh that out through trial and error. By adding my personal touches to a character, I can put my own spin on things, and that's a lot of fun - but at the same time, it gives me a responsibility. There are things I have to be careful with. I need to present my own take on a character, while making sure that the emotional development and payoff fit perfectly.

Uchiyama: I've worked with Director Asai multiple times, and I know that I can safely leave the directorial decisions to him. I have faith that as long as we do our best during recording, he'll elevate our work to a whole new level with his wonderful images. I feel no misgivings at all. And so, as a viewer, I myself look forward eagerly to every completed episode.

Interviewer: "Buddy Daddies" is entering the final stages of the plot at last. What highlights does it hold?

Toyonaga: In episode 7, we see Karin - the younger sister of Kazuki's late wife. And Rei's father shows up in episode 8...

Uchiyama: You get to see their respective pasts.

Toyonaga: And after that, in episode 9, their feelings towards Miri gradually merge into one. But it's not just those "emotions" - there are also certain things which mustn't be forgotten... And from episode 10 onwards, those things truly take shape. What will they actually do with Miri? Can the trio's relationship really go on like this? And Ogino Ryo - an assassin who frequents Kyu-chan's (Kugi Kyutaro's) shop - gets involved. In this world of assassins, what will become of a girl like Miri, who lives a cheerful and hearty life despite her forlorn circumstances? That's what the story will address at last.

Interviewer: Just how will all the pieces that have been laid out so far be brought together...

Toyonaga: When you're wondering what will really happen with Miri, you should remember there's still someone who's related to her by blood... I think that relationship is going to play a key role.

Uchiyama: In a sense, there are some rather serious plot developments towards the end. I'm very curious how audiences will react at that point. I think those hard-boiled story elements are depicted in a style that's very characteristically "Buddy Daddies". I feel like those same plot points might be approached quite differently, in another series with a different atmosphere.

Interviewer: I hear the last episode has a plot point that was somewhat unexpected for both of you...?

Uchiyama: I was wondering how this story would be concluded, but I truly didn't have the slightest clue until I read the script for the finale.

Toyonaga: But the fact that Director Asai chose to end the story this way - naturally, it makes you reflect upon what he was trying to convey through this series.

Uchiyama: Personally, it came as quite a surprise.

Toyonaga: As far as the ending is concerned, I'm curious what all the viewers will make of it. For example, there are bound to be the realist types who make comments like "here's how things would go in real life", even for an anime. When it comes to those people, what I want to say isn't "fact is stranger than fiction", but rather, "Actually, isn't this surprisingly realistic?" That's the question I'll put to them. I think the ending makes you consider whether you can accept something like this.

Uchiyama: Considering the story as a whole, if you take out Kazuki, Rei, and Miri's backstories and relationship as a "pseudo-family", I think you'd be left with a very dark atmosphere. It was a new experience for me to witness how this could be depicted in an original series, through the lens of anime, and how it could be shown from this particular angle.

Toyonaga: I think you'll find yourself surprised, in some form or other. Last of all, I hope you'll enjoy each and every episode till the very end.

[greenerteacups]

Hello GT! I almost never comment on anything online, but (after binge-reading Lionheart in about three days) I'm overcome with a desperate need to confess that I've developed an enormous intellectual crush on you as an author. I've never been particularly drawn to Dramione as a pairing before now - or even the HP universe in general as more than a very casual fan - but after reading nearly 600 thousand of your words, I'd be craving more even if that number was 600 million. Thank you very much for sharing Lionheart with the world.

It's a rare pleasure to read something where an immense thoughtfulness shines through so brightly not simply in bits and pieces here and there, but consistently throughout every line and every subplot you stitch together. There are other works of fiction out there that I love, but very, very few of them have been carefully crafted enough to allow me as a reader to sit back and have unshakeable confidence in the depth of the author's vision. Everything you write, from the smallest descriptive details to the grander puzzle pieces tying together each book, is delivered with such intentionality. Sometimes when reading other fiction I'll find myself impatiently wondering "okay, fantastic build-up, but when are we getting to the *really good* part"; with you, every part is the good part. The oft-cited slow-burn mantra of "it's not the destination, it's the journey" doesn't even ring true for me with Lionheart - because in your capable hands, you hurl us straight at that destination with every chapter. All of this to say that my starstruck inner writer is currently pinning a hypothetical pin-up poster of you to my hypothetical writer-ly bedroom wall as someone to look up to.

One of my favourite aspects of your work is how utterly hilarious you are both in your character dialogue and your prose. You've made me laugh more than you've made me cry - and you're guilty of making me cry a lot, especially in Book Four. You balance us between hysterical (funny) and hysterical (dirty, raw feelings) without a trace of whiplash, quite often imparting both simultaneously. Is interweaving humour with Everything Else something that comes naturally to you while writing or is it a process you're consciously juggling?

I've brooded and preened over this message for entirely far too long, and it's not fair to you. Suffice it to say you're kinder than I deserve and this made me want to cry. Any and all pin-up posters of me should render me looking like a deer in headlights, as is the appropriate reaction to this kind of honor.

I'm especially delighted by the hysteria (plural)! In general, it's easier for me to write humor than it is for me to write drama. Not that either one is easy as such, but I think drama requires more architecture. You don't have to explain if a joke is funny; it just is funny, and the audience knows why the characters are laughing/amused/happy. In drama, you have to achieve a certain level of technical character work to set up the punch of a moment; there's stakes, plotting, resonance, etc., and then you have to actually deliver it in a way that isn't either flippant, ironic, or Narm. Basically, there are more axes of failure. And the stakes of a joke failing are pretty low, too: worst case, your audience is like "eh, not that funny" and they move on. If a dramatic moment fails, it can take the legs out from under a whole arc.

One of my tests for whether a moment is ripe for comedy is the question of what the comedy is doing. Is it a realistic reflection of the character's voice in that situation? And, perhaps more importantly: why am I feeling the need to put comedy in this scene? Do I want it because it's natural and tone-appropriate, or am I trying to disguise my own insecurity about the dramatic content of the scene? If the latter, I tend to cut. You can't write from fear, you know?

[luniidae]

~ Too Familiar ~

Chapter VII

TW: +18. Hi everyone ! This chapter is certainly the longest I've written, but it is also about a sensitive subject you can, I think, guess just by looking at the illustration (and "don't worry", it's not about Raphael himself). 

I just wanted to say that this event isn't only here for drama, this is mainly the metaphor of a brutal transition from childhood to adulthood, like a bubble of peace suddenly bursted to bring the character to a reality she never really knew, bringing many conflicted feelings.

Anyway, "enjoy" !

_________________________________________

"I'M NOT YOURS TO USE !", she shouted.

Raphael's eyes darkened and he seized her chin, pressing his claws into her cheeks. For a moment, she thought he would eventually ripe her jaw off. 

"You ARE mine, little mouse. Do you really think that your presence here has no purpose ? Do you think I was feeling lonely so I asked Korilla to find a random child to give me company ? Of course not.... You are here for a reason, and it has nothing to do with your damn horns. You are here because I want it, because I tolerate it !"

She was staring at him, holding his forearm. His eyes... It felt like his piercing eyes were looking right into her soul. She could sense his grip getting tighter on her face. It hurt.

"Fath..."

"I am NOT your father !", he interrupted her.

Suddenly, she felt her heart stop, break, then falling into pieces. It was like a burning blade had just pierce her chest. Of course he wasn't her father, she knew that, but she couldn't help but love him as such.... She looked at him, her eyes full of sadness and disbelief. 

"Look at you... Crying like a baby", he said, his gaze becoming less hateful but withering, "You are so sensitive. You try to play the role of the rebellious youth, but you are nothing but a frightened child, weak, and seeking for attention and love"

Luvia couldn't believe her own ears. She didn't want to. That was even more painful that all the horns which had been taken from her during those last 7 years. She was so hurt that she spoke without thinking. 

"That's not true ! I am NOT a child anymore !", she screamed, "I HATE YOU !"

She didn't mean it at all of course, but that is all which came out of her mouth at this very moment. She didn't know her heart could hurt so much, it was so painful she could barely add anything else. Anyways, she wouldn't have the time to, as Raphael tightened his grip again and frowned, evidently upset, and the heat of his hand seemed to have increased. For a second or two, she thought having seen a glint of something in his eyes. But she couldn't tell if it was sadness or disappointment, or both, or just her imagination...

"Is that so ? Fine !", he declared bitterly.

At those words, he took Luvia with him across the corridors. She couldn't help but follow him, as he was holding the back of her neck. It felt like he could break it anytime. She couldn't ask where they were going, or what he was about to do, but she was frightened. Really frightened. She never spoke to him like that before, and she didn't think she would have been capable of such thing. 

Anyways, she wouldn't have to wait too long to know where he was leading her.

The Boudoir...

Luvia never came here, she had not the right to. Raphael had always been clear about that, but she never knew why. Also, she was surprised to see Hope's projection suddenly appear, panicked.

"RAPHAEL, STOP ! What are you doing ?! She's but a child, she .." 

"ENOUGH ! I'm done with you too !", he growled. 

"You MONSTER !", she said before he made her disappear in a simple gesture, interrupting her. 

He then threw Luvia on the floor unceremoniously. 

"As for you...", he looked at her with a mix of contempt and smug look, "If you are so eager to play bigger roles than yours, then so be it", and he snapped his fingers.

The young girl covered her head with her arms, expecting him to turn her into a lemure or ashes. But nothing of such happened....

"That's better", he simply said. 

Luvia remembered this tone well, those words.... "That's better". That was what he had said to her when he met her and gave her new clothes, that was what he had said the day she became a resident of the House of Hope, when he became a father figure to her, her protector, her saviour. She opened her eyes and  looked at Raphael who was staring at her from his height.

"What did you ... ?", she interrupted herself and her eyes widened, an expression of terror slowly taking over her face. She didn't fully recognize her own voice. It was hers, of course, but... Slightly different. More mature, less acute. She touched her throat as if there was a problem with it. But then she saw her hands... Thin as usual, but a little bit bigger, just like the rest of her body.

She had that strange feeling to look at something unknown but familiar at the same time. 

There was a kind of very large bathtub a little further and she crawled until it to check her reflection in the water. She felt her heart racing faster as she looked at herself. Or... Her older self. 

She now looked like she was in her twenties. She turned back to Raphael. 

"What is that ?!", she shouted, desperately trying to understand.

"What you asked for, Luvia", he answered calmly, "You wanted to prove that you were mature enough, now you won't have to pretend anymore".

"What ? No... That's not -"

"Needless to thank me", he said with a little bow, "The pleasure is mine.... Of course. Maybe next time you'll think twice before forgetting what is your place".

Luvia couldn't determine if he was sincere or not. Did he really have no compassion for her ? Not even a bit ?

"Do not worry, I'll be back later. Tomorrow perhaps. Meanwhile, I am sure you'll get along with your .... Temporary roommate", he said before turning on his heels and getting out of the room. 

The magic barrier which usually prevented anyone to enter appeared after him. Luvia begged for his mercy and she threw herself on the semi-transparent and shining thing, beating it, hoping it would open. But she knew it wouldn't... It never had for her before, and it never will until Raphael's back. 

"Father... ? Father ! Please ! PLEASE, FATHER ! LET ME OUT ! Don't leave me... I'm so sorry, please ! Don't...."

Luvia was screaming and sobbing so loud that it would have been hard for the other "residents" to not hear her. Even through the barrier. She looked for a way to deactivate it, even if she knew that was hopeless. And about Hope... Why did she look so terrified earlier ? What was the matter with this place anyway ? Luvia couldn't find out now, she was too busy trying to make the barrier disappear. But eventually she stopped, out of force.

Once she calmed herself down a bit, Luvia looked around her. The room was like the others: huge, luxurious and well decorated. There was this sort of pool in the middle, surrounded by cushions and plates full of fruits. She took a step forward, looking for something to do. She didn't understand why Raphael had locked her in here, also, she needed a new outfit, because the one she had on her was now too small and it was no longer comfortable.

While she was taking a closer look to the wardrobes, finding and puting on a proper clothes to fit her new shape, she suddenly heard something that made her jump. 

"My my, what have we here ?", said a mysterious yet familiar voice.

Too familiar, she thought. 

"I knew that Raphael could bring me surprises from time to time, but I wouldn't have expected it was you, little mouse". 

She turned around to see who was speaking to her. She was so nervous she could hear her heartbeats in her ears, but she wasn't prepared at all for what she was about to see. 

Before her stood a cambion in an... Unusual outfit. The worst part was that their face was too familiar to her. Luvia instinctively screamed and hide her eyes, she didn't want to see more. The devil chuckled at her reaction.

"Oh do not worry, I am not Raphael", they spoke with a charming tone while approaching her, like a predator sneaking to its prey,"I am far more better than that...".

Even if she couldn't see anything, she took a few steps backwards. They were now very close to her and slowly removed her hands from her face. Her back against the wall, she was now facing them but her eyes remained closed in a nervous expression. 

"Tsk-tsk-tsk.... Come on, little mouse. I can't believe you don't even dare to look at me. Am I this intimidating ?" 

They brought one of their hands to her face, caressing her cheek with their fingertips. They could smell her fear, sense her body shiver, and they loved that.

Luvia slowly opened her eyes and they caught her chin, forcing her to look at their face while they were examining hers.

"Raphael.... What a secretive little brat. He never told me how beautiful you were. Very naughty from him to keep you just for himself....."

The newly-young woman couldn't look at anything else but their eyes. Piercing, intense, just like -.... She didn't want to think about it. But the resemblance was too obvious to be ignored. 

"I....... I suppose you are... The roommate He talked to me about earlier..", she managed to say, still confused and trying, in vain, to look in another direction. Of course it was them... 

"Roommate ? Ha !", they laughed before adding with a vicious grin, "....... Yeah"

They took a few seconds to look at her face again.

"But let me introduce myself: I am Haarlep. Raphael's personal incubus, glamoured to look just like him". They made a little "ta-da" pose. 

"It seems so...", she answered. 

She could have die right here and right now if that would have been the only way to escape the situation. But she couldn't.... It was like a living nightmare and she didn't know what to do to get out of here. Luvia didn't know anything about incubuses, and she wondered why Raphael was keeping this creature here, how she could have never seen them in 8 years. And why they were.... Like that. 

If she couldn't find answers to these questions, she could now understand why she didn't have the right to come here before. 

The vision of the cambion made her feel incredibly uncomfortable, which made Haarlep smile wider.

They softly rubbed her chin with their right hand's index and thumb.

"You seem so nervous, my sweet. So fragile, so innocent, so ...", they got near her neck and took a deep breath, "... Virginal", and their eyes shone with a malicious shine, "My favorite". The creature suddenly seemed excited.

"P.. Please, just let me go... I don't want to be here", Luvia said with a trembling voice. 

"Really ? Oh I'm hurt.... Because I do enjoy your company, you know... And I'm sure you will enjoy mine very soon."

While they were speaking, their eyes were examining her from head to toe, their left hand was on her shoulder, caressing the delicate fabric of her clothes between their fingers. The other though was slowly sneaking along her neck from her chin to the start of her breast, while the heat emanating from them increased. But Luvia couldn't handle it. They were too close, too tactile, too familiar, too..... Too much. She quickly sneaked under Haarlep's arm in an attempt to escape. But.....

"There is not way out, little mouse",  they shouted at her as she was running away from them. 

And they were right, there was nowhere to go. The entrance was closed, and she couldn't jump above the balcony.... Or maybe she could ? She wanted to escape so bad she was ready to try anything, no matter if she had to break a few bones in the process. 

She started to climb over the structure, but while she was about to fall into the void of the Avernus, she heard the sound of a wing clap and felt something grips her waist, bringing her back inside.

"Let me go !", Luvia was trying to break free from Haarlep's embrace. But the incubus had no intention to do so. By the way, they were too strong for her and were amused by all of her vain efforts.

"How fierce you are", they giggled, amused, "I pretty much like a little entertainment. And to see you resisting is... Delectable"

"Listen here, devil, I'm not an object you can take and move wherever you want. Put me down, RIGHT NOW.", she growled, beating their forearms.

"Aw, how cute. You speak just like Him. But know that I can take whatever Raphael gives me", then they whispered in her ear, "And I'll take a great pleasure in breaking you, my dear". 

Her eyes widened. Even if Luvia had not a lot of knowledge about "certain things", she wasn't that naive. Especially when she could sense their body tenses against hers, and their warm breath quicken on her skin.

She started to panick.

"Please let me go ! I'm not.... I'm not what you think !", she shouted.

"Don't worry, pet. This body suits you better anyway"

What ? They knew ? Luvia looked horrified.

They chuckled softly, "Did you think I've never seen you before ? Of course I did. Only from afar, alas."

Once they got close enough to the one and only bed of the room, a large and fancy crimson one, they threw her on it, firmly holding her wrists, no matter how hard she protested. 

"I do love hunting, you know. Unfortunately, this room is not big enough for such games, it would get boring very quickly. And to be honest, I don't want to let my plaything go now I caught it. By the way, nice to finally meet you, Luvia. Raphael talked to me a lot about you".

The young "woman" stopped moving but didn't answer. She was doing her best to not pass out due to the stress. Haarlep had for a moment an interrogative look on their face.

"I wonder what could have happened... Is that you who sent the House on fire ? Or did you step on Raphael's tail ? No because I'm trying to understand, as he always forbidden me to touch you, no matter what. Really, it almost scared me. I thought for a moment he went sentimental"

They took a few seconds to observe Luvia's reaction, as they seemed to enjoy the situation. She seemed lost in her thoughts, considering Haarlep's words.

Raphael didn't want her to be in this room, and he didn't want Haarlep to make her any harm in any way... Did he want to... Protect her ? Did he actually care for her ? Or was it for his personal purpose only ? The incubus broke the train of her thoughts, their face close to her ear, whispering...

"It seemed he changed his mind, though"

Those words were more painful than she could have thought. She asked Haarlep to let her go once more, but they laughed.

"Oh no, little mouse... I guess he put you here for a reason, to teach you a lesson.... And who am I to avoid my responsibilities towards you ?", they said ironically.

They locked their eyes on hers, staring at her intensely, which made her feel like a little animal caught in a trap. 

"Don't look at me like that", she said.

"Like what, dear ?"

"Like a piece of meat"

"Oh little mouse...", they put a knee between hers to spread her legs and sneak in-between, she held her breath, "All I see is a beautiful young woman who crave attention and love... Who crave my touch".

Attention and love.... She blushed so much... There was something strange and bewitching about this creature. It made her sick. The incubus grinned, satisfied of the effect they had on her. 

A burning whirlwind wrapped her and her clothes disappeared in the flames (without burning her), which made her tense. She wanted to hide herself, to run away, to disappear... But the devil were still holding her. 

"Just give in... And you'll enjoy yourself more", they said with a seductive voice.

"No no no no... !".

Haarlep kissed her while she started to fight back. Luvia's mind screamed in terror but she was hit by a flow of pure and contradictory emotions, since incubus saliva had the power to provide a strong connection with their victims. That was intense and soft at the same time, scary but comforting, embarrassing but agreeable. She couldn't tell how she felt exactly since it didn't seem natural anyway. Her body was like burning as they got close to hers, realizing their clothes were gone as well. They deepened the kiss, playing with her tongue. That was as weird as it was sensual. 

Also, she could sense something getting quickly wet between her legs. It was embarrassing, and Haarlep's right hand was running along her body to reach this very sensitive spot. She wanted to stop them, to catch their hand, but she gasped at their touch. 

"Oooh... Sounds like your body was already in the mood to receive me... I'm flattered"

Her eyes widened, this wasn't at all what she wanted.. Or maybe it was ? No, it wasn't. She was afraid of them, so why she was doubting ? 

"No ! This is not - ", she stopped, sensing something else against her inner thigh. Something bigger. She  tensed at this unwelcomed touch and tried to close her legs, but she couldn't since Haarlep was there. Their gaze never left hers. 

"Oh, you want me to get closer ?", they asked with a teasing look, sensing her legs against their hips. 

"NO ! Get away from me !", Luvia shooked her head.

They caressed her hair with their left hand, "Needless to resist, pet, I'll be very gentle for this first time. I'm not a monster, you know... And to be honest, that makes the whole thing even more thrilling ", they giggled. 

Tears were coming to her eyes while they were pressing the head of their member against her entrance, until it eventually got inside... 

That was painful, but Luvia moaned despite herself, being overwhelmed by an intense emotion at each of their movements. She wanted them to stop, she wanted them to leave her alone. She wanted to get out of here and never come back to this horrible place.

She covered her mouth with her hands to stop her from making any more sounds, but Haarlep removed them. 

"Oh no, sweetheart. Your cries sound like music to my ears, and I would be disappointed to not hear you screaming my name, again... And again.... And again"

They insisted on those last words giving bigger thrusts at each of them. 

They pressed their forehead to hers, looking straight into her eyes.

"You ARE mine, little mouse"

To be continued...

[stillswearing]

oh wow (spoilers, i guess)

I'm not over how poorly done the story for Shazam 2 was, lmao. I know I'm in the minority to even care about it a this point.

But it was so sad. I have half a mind to write a fic that's just a slight retelling of the film, but with better character moments for the family. The thing is, we can totally build on the nuggets already planted in the film:

mary regretting her choices about college

pedro plucking up the courage to come out

freddy struggling with self-worth without their superpowers

billy's major abandonment issues

rosa and victor being unsure how to parent super kids

All this will be tied together to inform the primary theme: A family is where you are accepted and celebrated unconditionally - period. Regardless of one's abilities (super or not), sexuality (straight or not), or personal choices (leaving for college or staying home), your family never abandons you.

And that will be juxtaposed against the antagonist sisters, whose family is centered around power. Their family was where you were controlled, where one sees their value as conditional upon their contribution to that quest for power. As soon as you're seen as too weak, you are discarded (as with Helen Mirren's character). And Anne is obviously key here since she lets go of that philosophy after meeting Freddy, and joins the shazamily.

[And we're going improve the sisters' evil motivations by completely removing the weird justification about being stolen from? They can just be really cool baddies, you know? Don't need weird pseudo-historical baggage, since the theme is primarily about healthy vs toxic families.]

Anyway, these scenarios were so ripe for drama and character growth. It was all right there in the movie! It's so baffling that this sequel did NOT explore them further. It would have made the ending way more devastating and triumphant. (It should've been a Young Billy rising from the ground btw.)

Honestly, they did Asher incredibly dirty in this sequel. This is HIS franchise. HE is Billy, not the adult hero he turns into. And he's a far better actor anyway. He brings an emotional depth to Billy that just isn't there when his counterpart is the one onscreen. He did so well with the little they gave him. This movie needs Asher, just as much as it needs Jack and Grace and the rest of the family.

The biggest mistake of this film is really the choice to decenter the kids' internal lives just so it can have more adults doing stunts. What set Shazam 1 apart, to the surprise of many, was its heart and sincerity - it doesn't wink at the audience at all. I was disappointed to see that the sequel lost sight of that.

[catspawcreates]

“You Reap What You Sow”

After being on hold for my goofy animation, I was drawn back to finishing this lovely angst piece. Sun & Moon Show inspired (promise I do other Sun Moon art too!). The juicy drama is ripe for the picking.

When you make everyone your enemy you inevitably get backed into a corner. Eclipse, the only one without an ally.

The in process post is HERE!

I had a lot of fun with the shadows. My graphic tablet died right as I finished it so I had to tighten my belt and order a new one…. Cest la vie.

[bittrlys]

so here is how it GOES.............Lord Viren is abducted by the handsy, roguish pirate who wants to kill dragons with dark magic. he seduces Viren (Viren, easily swayed by powerful men, is ripe for seduction) & so begins the roguish post-beach divorce pirate Viren arc .................aaravos is like Baby i've been calling but you never seem to be home 😩😩😩 can i PLEAAAAAASE hit 🥺🥺🥺 but Viren is vaguely empowered and NOT HEARING IT!! i mean of course like all these men finnegrin just wants to use Viren but he finds himself attached despite himself .... Viren (aries sun/cancer moon/virgo rising) (real) has a kind of hermit crab energy actually. <3 ................ aaravos turns up on a ship of his own and is like Give me the mother of my child back. roguish swashbuckling ensues. (everyone sets aside magic for the dashing drama of it all.) mystery of aaravos postponed for alpha headbutting. Viren, living out a bodice ripper pirate romance arc, starts performing mental calculations for a threesome. (will deny if asked.) (he's shy.)

[bratzydollz]

"Ivanka's Grand Unveiling: Who is Ivanka? 💋✨ #IvankasReveal #IvankaHasThe411"

January 10th, 2024.

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•—✧✷ Well, well, well, Upper East Shifters! The prodigal blogger has returned! Cue the applause, the confetti, and, of course, the eye rolls. Yes, my fellow shifters and followers, it's moi—Ivanka. I've been MIA for what feels like a century, and in the midst of my Instagram-worthy life drama, I've managed to gain a few followers. Not that they care, but hey, who needs a lame and basic introduction when you're living the chaotic dream?

Round of applause for my stellar disappearing act! Bravo, Ivanka. But enough about that. Let's dive into the grand reintroduction because, let's face it, you've been deprived. What can I say? Life's been a rollercoaster, with more twists and turns than a binge-(un)worthy season finale of Riverdale. But fear not, for the gossip and glam are back, and I'm about to spill the tea on yours truly. Ready or not, here comes the multidimensional Ivanka comeback!

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✧ About me, Xoxo.

—✧✷ Greetings, cyber citizens! I'm your digital deity, Ivanka Beeyuh, reigning over the online realm. Real identity? Baby, that's a closely guarded secret. She/they pronouns are my melody, and proudly transcribing my existence as a fabulous transgender woman. Virgo vibes and INFP musings – at the ripe age of 19, I'm navigating the academic jungle with a major in Business Administration. Because, let's be real, who doesn't love a business-savvy queen?

Oh, and here's a little nugget of trivia to spice up the Ivanka saga—I'm rocking the Klinefelter Syndrome, making me a naturally sculpted divine doll. HRT process? A breeze, honey. Feeling blessed, and this goddess is ready to conquer the digital cosmos. Buckle up, buttercups! 🌟💻 #IvankaBeeyuh #OnlineRoyalty

—✧✷ Listen up, trendsetters and multiverse explorers! Ivanka Beeyuh, your guide through the virtual wonderland, is spilling the tea on her current obsessions. Since the mystical year of 2020, shifting has been my jam – and yes, girlies, I've successfully made the leap! Yay for alternate realities!

Now, let's talk beauty—natural vibes with a splash of bold Latina and Thai makeup, because who says you can't slay in multiple cultures? Embracing the magic of witchcraft, I'm your modern-day enchantress. Need some data entry wizardry? Count me in. And of course, strutting the cyber catwalk, because fashion is life.

But wait, there's more! Yours truly is also a subliminal sorcerer, crafting unseen spells for your subconscious. I've got a stash of creations waiting to dazzle, and when they hit the digital airwaves, you'll be the first to know. Stay tuned, my cyber comrades! 🌐💄🔮

—✧✷ Hold onto your broomsticks, spellbinders! Ivanka Beeyuh here, spilling the enchanted tea about my bewitching side. Yes, luvly, I'm not just interested in witchcraft—I am a full-fledged chaos-type witch, and I'm here to own it. No rulebook, no limitations—I dance to the rhythm of my own magical beat.

Quick disclaimer: I'm not your run-of-the-mill chaos magick witch. Let's get one thing straight – my craft is a constantly evolving masterpiece, not a cookie-cutter spell from the dusty pages of some ancient tome. Had to clear that up because, you know, some witches get their broomsticks in a twist when you mix "chaos magick" and "creating your own craft" in the same cauldron <3.

And now, a moment of worship for the Goddess of Keys and Witchcraft, the ultimate diva, Hekate. Bow down, beauties, for her cunty aura is the reason I'm a devoted follower. The slay is real, and so is my commitment to the mystical queen.

—✧✷ Picture this: the current earworms that have me spellbound include the hypnotic vibes of Melanie Martinez, the powerhouse notes of Ariana Grande, the offbeat allure of Ayesha Erotica, the soulful serenades by SZA, and the sultry sounds of Summer Walker.

Now, let me spill the real tea—I might not be the maestro of musical taste. In fact, I'm shamelessly riding the trend wave, and who can blame me? These beats are too good to resist.

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•—✧✷ Alright, my curious companions, buckle up for a little rendezvous into the aesthetics of both my CR-self and DR-Self. If you're itching to unravel the layers of my vibe, swing by to the "Ivancore" page, or if you want more shifting teas, drive your Mercedes to "Ivanka's Shifting Teas" that you can access from the front page! 👀

And with that, my luvlies, behold the finale of my introduction—lovely, yet a tad messy. Here's to hoping that as you tread the path of my posts, you, my moots and followers, get to uncover the layers of Ivanka Beeyuh. For now, a temporary farewell, my luvlies. Buh-bye~

Xoxo, Ivanka. 💋🫧

back to front page —❥ 💙