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#the originals headcannon
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Cassie on Crack presents:
THE NERF WAR
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A/N: While I write part three of Rational Thinking, have this headcanon. Why? Because it's healthy to write absolute crack every once in a while. Here lies my Masterlist.
The Rules:
Head shot = you're out.
Leg shot, arm shot, chest shot, and back shot = Target joins shooter's team. (E.X: Hayley hits Marcel's arm, Marcel joins Hayley's team.)
Gut shot = Target has 10 minutes to take out as many players as possible. Gut shot enemies CANNOT be killed during this time, but die after their 10 minutes is up. If a team leader is the target of a gut shot, their team is disbanded and it's once again every man for himself.
Weapons and Ammo are hidden throughout the compound/mansion. Obtainment of weapons and ammo is up to each player. No freebies. Hiding one's own weapons and ammo stashe is completely legal.
Finder's keepers.
If a team leader is killed or shot onto another team, their previous team is disbanded and the members thereof return to free for all combat.
Butt and groin shots are cheap... and absolutely legal.
Any magical modifications to any weapon is strictly BANNED. That means no homing rounds, no cloaked stashes, and no silencing charms. (We're looking at you, Freya.)
For those without enhanced senses, perception altering charms are legal, however such magic can only be used to dull footsteps, breathing, and heartbeat. NO SILENT RELOADS.
Rule breakers are out and forced to observe for the rest of the round and the next three games.
The last player or team standing wins!
How it Starts:
In an alternate universe where everyone is alive and happy, the birth of Hope Mikaelson inspires the whole family to do better when it comes to petty disputes. This decision brings about a new Mikaelson Family tradition... THE NERF WAR...
A war can be started at any time and they can last for days. (The longest was two weeks and where Klaus was hiding that entire time remains unknown.)
The cause can vary from a serious argument to an off-handed insult. Really, it just depends how close the nearest weapon is to whomever is involved.
This particular time, Rebekah tosses a snide remark at Kol - something about being the pop-tart hog - then suddenly Kol is reaching under the table. The sound of duct tape ripping pierces the air and a loud click rings out across the compound. Rebekah cries out, holding a hand to her cheek as a little yellow sphere rolls across the table. Kol grins.
THE WAR HAS BEGUN.
The lights go out and everyone scatters, some breakfasts remain on the table - unfinished though they may be - while others seemingly disappear as fast as their respective owners.
A teenage Hope, more than sick of losing to various family members, murmurs a quick spell to dull her footsteps and breathing before rushing to the kitchen.
There, atop the cabinets she has previously hidden a Nerf bolt-action sniper rifle and six packs of ammo.
She reasons this should be enough to get her through the first hour or so for she has grown up learning her family's strategies and now plans to use their strengths against them.
Hayley finds her daughter first.
The unsired hybrid is dangerous as she's rather unpredictable. She's smart and her aim is fantastic. She is NOT to be underestimated.
"You're exposed, Hope-ers," Hayley's voice calls out from the darkness, just beyond the kitchen doorway.
Hope dives behind the kitchen island as a foam dart whizzes past her left ear. She bites her lip to contain a laugh as she shoves her first clip into her rifle.
"Didn't think you'd be coming so soon," Hope replies, inching her way to peak around the corner. She sees a dark silhouette outlined against the door frame and peaks her gun out just slightly to aim.
"Think again!" Hayley says with a chuckle.
Two more darts fly past the kitchen island, one just a hairsbreadth away from Hope's hand wrapped around the handle of her rifle.
Knowing she has little chance if she doesn't act now, Hope empties her clip as fast as she can.
Two of the rounds tag her mother in the bicep and Hayley steps out from the corner with her hands up - she's holding a post-apocalyptic lookin' thing with four revolving barrels and a slide-action reload.
"Guess you're on my team now." Hope smirks proudly, standing up from behind the island.
Hayley hugs her daughter, pressing a kiss to the teenager's forehead.
"Guess you're right."
Both take a moment to retrieve their ammo before cautiously leaving the kitchen and moving into the lower floor sitting room.
"So who should we go for first?" Hope asks in hardly a whisper - talking any louder would draw more attention then they can currently handle. She knows teams are already forming and the mother daughter duo is unlikely to last long if their numbers remain as they are.
"Aww... My baby's all grown up and plotting world domination! I'm so proud!" Hayley snickers.
Hope rolls her eyes. "Thanks mom."
"Any time, princess. Anyway, we should definitely go for Elijah. We don't want that absolute monster of a drum sneaking up behind us. I think he'll probably still be in the attic by now," Hayley hisses back, checking behind an armchair for any hidden assailants.
Elijah is the strategic one of the family; he goes floor by floor and room by room, mowing down anyone who happens to fall into his path with the biggest gun the world has ever seen. Sacrificing accuracy for sheer firepower, Elijah's weapon bears more than one hundred rounds on its own. Not to mention the various slings and bags worth of extra ammo he straps to his person at the beginning of every game. Suppression Fire is Elijah's M.O.
"Okay." Hope nods, passing by the old dumbwaiter hatch beside the bookcase.
No one's used it in years, of course... At least, that's what a very certain someone wants the family to think.
Hope smirks and waves at Hayley who regards her with a questioning look. The girl presses a finger to her lips and points at the dumb waiter shaft. She carefully tip-toes over to it and wraps her hand around the handle. Hayley nods in understanding and raises her weapon. Hope begins mouthing a count down. 3...2...1
She throws the shudder open and Hayley opens fire, Hope joining in a second later. A voice cries out in surprise from inside the shaft as mother and daughter pummel the poor sod with round after round of foam darts. There is no mercy from them.
"Alright! Alright! You've got me! I yield!"
The family likes to refer to Hope as their miracle, but the real miracle is how her father manages to jam almost six feet worth of Original Hybrid into that miniscule dumbwaiter shaft.
Positioned in there like a spider lying in wait with his arms and legs curled up to protect his face, Klaus spends the next minute or so grumbling under his breath as he somehow dislodges himself from his hiding spot.
"One of you hit my knee first," He admits, brushing off his jacket.
"Thanks for the easy win, dad!" Hope grins.
Klaus opens his mouth to object, but Hayley shoots his arm.
"Bloody hell, what was that for? I'm already on your team!"
"That was for being a camper." Hayley smirks.
That's right, Klaus Mikaelson the big bad Original Hybrid is a camper. He's always preferred to wait for his enemies to come to him and, in all fairness, his tactic is extremely effective. He wins a majority of games simply by outlasting other players. But he'll always emerge and pounce when there's only a few players left. He also keeps an enormous stash with him wherever he's hiding.
"Fork it over, Klaus," Hayley says. He rolls his eyes and reaches back into the elevator shaft, drawing forth a huge sack of darts, guns, and even a few snacks.
"Santa Klaus," Hope mutters. Her father shoots her a scathing look.
"How'd you find me anyway?" He demands, swapping his rival pistol for a tri-shot weapon that looks suspiciously like a Winchester rifle.
"Well I know you have like 8 hiding spots that you rotate every game - this is the only one I've found, though." Hope says with a shrug. Klaus' expression softens.
"Clever girl." He nods. Hope smiles.
Moving on from the sitting room, the trio hope to find a safe path to the attic.
"Status report?" Hayley whispers.
No matter where he chooses to hide, Klaus - paranoid genius that he is - always finds a way to keep track of team compositions.
"No one's had the guts to confront Elijah yet, so he's still alone which means Marcel can't be far behind. Though, I believe he's on his own as well," Klaus says.
Predictable as his tactics might be, Elijah has never been beaten by any other family member on their own.
What Elijah doesn't know, however, is that Marcel tends to follow him as he clears each room, eventually picking one to hunker down in. He then proceeds to camp with almost the effectiveness of Klaus.
The Hybrid continues-
"I do believe Keelin has managed to locate her custom bow as she has shot Freya onto her team. Freya then shot Cami in the face, so she's out of the game."
Keelin's modified bow is the bane of just about everyone's existence as it is a legal silent-load weapon. She's customized it with a more durable string and a higher draw weight, giving it greater accuracy and range. It also hurts like a mother.
Freya typically uses a semi-auto Rival assult rifle. She's a scavenger when it comes to ammo, preferring to fill her weapon with the darts other players have been foolish enough to leave behind.
Freya's solo tactic is to go straight for the kill regardless of who she's facing, while Keelin prefers to build a small team - three people at most. (That way there's fewer people to deal with should she be shot onto another team.) When the two of them team up, they are queens of the corner rooms, using any and all entrances as extremely effective ambush points.
Poor Camille has yet to win a Nerf War. She tries to use the hallways as choke points but her aim just isn't the best. Although, she is excellent at turning on her former teammates should she be shot onto another team. Her skills of escaping are unparalleled. She's also the family's best cheerleader when she gets 'killed' early on.
"As usual, no one's heard from Finn," Klaus tells with an annoyed eye-roll.
Finn practically invented the term 'silent as the grave'. No one hears him coming. Ever. Preferring foam knives, axes and swords to guns, he hides out in the darkness of the basement/dungeon, waiting for a brave wanderer to enter his domain. Although he despises being a vampire, he's learned that his undead state is not without it's advantages, such as not needing to breathe. The man will actually stop his heart and hold his breath for however long is needed in order to lull other players into a false sense of security before silently slipping out to slit their throats or stab them in the back. He's won his fair share of games this way. Oh, and his knives, axes, and swords are weighted accurately to their more lethal counterparts.
Unfortunately, Finn's not that great of a team player. He does his best work from the shadows and tends to get knocked out pretty quick otherwise. He and Cami have had some pretty fantastic conversations from the sidelines.
"Rebekah is once again queen of the courtyard," Klaus reports. There's a simultaneous groan from his other two team mates.
Despite other family members casual use of long range rifles, the youngest Mikaelson sibling is the only true sniper of the bunch.
Rebekah's infamous use of sniper rifles has won her quite a few games, though more often than not it ends up being spectacularly annoying. The blonde's favorite spot is lying prone on the actual roof, looking down over the courtyard. Her aim is impeccable and she will not hesitate to shoot her brothers out. However, Marcel and any female who happens to wander into her line of sight can just as well count themselves as the newest member of her team.
So far, Keelin and Kol are the only ones who have managed to shoot her down from that position.
Although, Rebekah does have the unfortunate tendency to underestimate the amount of ammo necessary for some of the longer games. She's most vulnerable when she ventures down from the roof to restock on ammunition. That's when other players or teams usually wait to ambush her.
"And to everyone's great surprise, Kol has allowed Davina to shoot him onto her team for the sixtieth time in a row," Klaus finishes with a grimace.
See, those two are tricky.
Davina has somehow mastered just about every Nerf weapon ever made. She'll carry several on her person and will not hesitate to switch between them at any time. Her unpredictability makes her a tough adversary to fight as she roams the maze of hallways and staircases that make up the compound's second floor.
Davina's default weapon choice for her patrol is a double barreled shotgun paired with a foam knife. Though her small stature makes for something of a disadvantage against the actual mountains of Viking that are the Mikaelson boys, it should be noted that she can and will tackle and slit the throats of anyone and everyone who crosses her path.
Kol, on the other hand, has mastered the art of being an absolute nuisance. His primary weapon is a four barreled pistol that can split into two separate pistols on command. He's the third best shot in the family and the king of dual-weilding. The variable arsenal he packs on his body is also annoying, not to mention the Nerf gatling gun he keeps strapped to his back in case of emergencies. Whether it be hiding under the main stairway or dropping down from the ceiling of a seemingly empty room, the guy is always bringing some weird new strategy to the table. More on his insane tactics later.
On their own, the witch and former witch are extremely dangerous. But together? It's a well known fact that, these two are absolutely deadly.
Kol and Davina are undisputed masters of the Sword and Shield technique. They have used it to single-handedly win dozens of games.
Back when the Nerf Wars first started, Kol managed to obtain a S.W.A.T Riot Shield. You know, those huge full body ones? Yeah. One of those. No one wants to know exactly how he got it. He holds the shield with one hand, and uses that four barreled pistol with the other. Davina stands between him and the shield, either weilding two hammer-load pistols or a fully automatic assault rifle. Together they roam the halls mowing down anyone they can find.
However, this tactic leaves them extremely vulnerable from the back and slightly weak from the sides. During a particularly long and competitive game, Finn successfully snuck up behind the two. He threw Kol to the floor and stabbed him in the back no less than twelve times before throwing a knife at Davina's head. Kol and Finn on one team was nothing short of disastrous.
Now if Kol gets separated from Davina, then things really get interesting. Kol will intentionally try to get himself shot in the gut.
He's affectionately dubbed this tactic: BERSERKER MODE.
This is when the gatling gun comes out. Within the next ten minutes the best chance any other players have to survive is simply to find the best hiding spot they can and stay as quiet as possible. He'll gladly go about slaughtering as many players as he can find, all while singing Fulsome Prison Blues.
"That's just spectacular," Hope complains softly. "Do you think they'll go for Marcel or Rebekah next?"
"Definitely Rebekah. With Kol and Marcel on a team, they'll lose any element of surprise," Hayley snorts.
On their way up to intercept Elijah, the trio encounter Freya and Keelin in the second floor study.
Battle ensues.
Hope ducks and scrambles back as Hayley dives forward and rolls behind a couch. Klaus rushes in and takes cover behind the desk, standing up every now and then to open fire on Freya and Keelin who move to flank Hayley. Freya turns to shoot Klaus but misses and in the split second it takes her to reload, Hope pokes her gun out from the doorway and hits Freya square in the jaw.
"I'm out!" She declares, raising her hands and stepping aside.
Klaus grins and makes eye contact with Hayley, together they hop up and pepper Keelin with darts.
"Ha! That's a gut shot!" She cries out a second later.
"Oh, bloody hell..." Klaus and Hayley are out of there faster than Freya can cheer. "Hope, run!"
Luckily, the wolf has to gather her foam arrows before she can go after them so that gives the trio some time. They rush through the rooms of the upper floor, not really caring who they might alert to their presence. Barring themselves in the library, they take a moment for Hope to catch her breath.
They chose the wrong room.
There's a loud whirring noise just before a spray of yellow Rival rounds attacks Hope's legs. She jumps in surprise and dives to hide behind a book case. Her other team members follow her example.
"You guys just missed Elijah," Marcel's lazy New Orleans accent draws from his hiding spot. He's taken a page out of Rebekah's book it seems, laying prone atop a bookshelf. Hope wonders how he managed to climb up there without attracting notice.
"Yeah, well we were a little bit busy running for our lives!" Hayley exclaims. "Keelin's been gut shot-ed."
Marcel's chuckle trails off into a mutter. "That's gonna be a pain..." He's absolutely right.
"Come now, Marcellus. It's three against one, the odds aren't exactly in your favor," Klaus reasons. "You should just surrender now."
"Not a chance!" Another barrage rains down over Klaus who grins as the rounds fly by him, missing by inches.
Without warning, Hayley makes a mad dash for the center of the room and jumps onto a table, giving her the extra height needed to nail Marcel in the forearm.
He lets lose a string of curses and climbs down, like a grumpy, six foot Rapunzel descending from a very unsteady tower. The bookshelf nearly topples on him during his dismount.
"Alright, so aside from a gut-shot Keelin, who are we up against?" He asks as he picks up as many of his discarded rounds as he can find.
Hope counts off on her fingers. "Freya and Cami are out. Davina and Kol are a team - shocker, I know - but that leaves Elijah, Rebekah, and Finn on their own."
"Sounds like fun." Marcel grins and cocks his gun, fully loaded once more. "Elijah's in the billiard room, if we hurry, we should be able to catch him before he reaches the lounge."
"Yeah, I'm totally with Davina on the whole 'you guys live in the Clue mansion' thing," Hayley huffs.
They stop in the hall just outside the billiard room. There are no volunteers to enter first.
"Uncle Elijah, we have you out-numbered and out-gunned!" Hope announces, pressing her shoulder against the door frame. "Surrender willingly, or die a painful death - the choice is yours!"
"Are you sure about that, little one?" Elijah questions. "Because, from where I'm standing, the odds of any member of your team subduing me before I take out any number of you seems rather low. Out-numbered... Perhaps. Out-gunned... I think not." He sounded extremely smug. "Oh, and hello Hayley."
"Hi, Elijah," Hayley tosses back.
Klaus sighs dramatically before sharing a glance with Hope. "Tell my story," He says.
Klaus throws himself through the doorway, catching Elijah just slightly off-guard. He fires, but misses and is met with a shower of foam darts. He cries out and staggers back as Marcel pokes just his gun around the corner and shoots blind.
"That was an incredibly lucky shot," Elijah observes.
Hope peaks around the corner to see just what had happened. Elijah had apparently flipped the billiard table on its side to use for cover with only his gun resting on his leg sticking out from behind it. Marcel had hit him in the leg. Lucky shot indeed.
"And that was my eye, Elijah," Klaus bites back, rubbing at the injury.
"I do believe that removes you from combat, brother." Elijah smirks, hoisting his enormous gun over his shoulder. Klaus glares at him.
"Cocktails for the loser squad!" Cami's voice calls from downstairs. That seems to lighten the hybrid's mood.
"Ah, now there's a party I can get into." He walks off pretty quickly after that.
Elijah doesn't bother to collect his expended ammunition. He's got more than enough. "Where to next?"
All other eyes turn to Hope.
She shrugs. "I dunno, I didn't really expect to make it this far."
"Oh, that's a shame; you were doing so well."
Everyone turns just in time to see Elijah's head get 'lopped off' by a foam axe. Standing behind him is Finn, armed with a foam sword, an axe, several knives strapped to various places, and another axe slung across his back. He's ventured from the basement and is grinning like a mad man.
Elijah chuckles and follows after Klaus.
"So, who's next?" Finn asks. He throws the axe in his hand and it hits Marcel square in the chest and he immediately turns to shoot Hayley who yelps and dives for cover.
But before Marcel can fire a shot, a loud snap rings out from behind Finn. A rubber tipped arrow sails into the back of his head and he hisses in pain, glancing over his shoulder to see Keelin and her bow at the end of the hall.
"I'm back, suckers!" She laughs.
Finn sighs and walks away, grumbling about how he actually had a chance this time.
Hope is quick to shoot Marcel back onto her team.
"Gahh Dayum!" He complains. "Again? Really?"
"You better believe it." Hope grins though her face falls when she sees Keelin barreling towards them. "Yeah, time to go!"
At this point, however, they find themselves cut off. With nowhere else to run, aside from trapping themselves in the lounge, they're forced to risk an unprotected dash across the courtyard. It's a long distance to cross - even longer when they know there's a sniper waiting to rain fire on them. They make their break for the stairs anyway, skipping down the steps two at a time.
Exposed as they are, they dash across the length of the courtyard, aiming for the formal dining room.
"Anyone care to notice the lack of darts whizzing by our heads right about now?" Hayley points out as she and Marcel push the sliding doors shut.
Hope blinks, tallying up the fallen players in her head. "Wait, that means..."
Cami, Freya, Klaus, Elijah, Finn...
"Kol and Dee have Bekah." Marcel nods shrugging. "That's it, we're screwed."
"No, we're not!" Hayley smacks his arm.
"Either way, Keelin's got one minute 'till she's dead," Hope offers, trying to be helpful.
"Which means, we gotta be outta here by then 'cuz five bucks says those three musketeers are right on Keelin's tail... Which is probably where they've been this whole time!" Marcel groans, shaking his head. "Have I ever told you guys how much I hate Kol?"
"Only every other day." Hope smirks.
"He's a damn snake," Marcel rants. "Hiding right behind the most dangerous player until she's out of time? What a lousy move."
"You're just jealous you didn't think of it," Hayley says.
"I am not!" He protests. "See, I have better ideas, such as using the servant's passages to get outta here."
With time running out, Marcel's idea is the one they end up going with. The servant's passage leads them back to the kitchen, right where they first started.
From the kitchen stretches two hallways, one of which leads to the lower floor sitting room, while the other leads to a foyer-type space. As the trio emerges into the kitchen, they catch wind of voices drifting from the second hallway.
"Really feeling the sibling love here, Kol." That voice belongs to Rebekah and she doesn't sound too happy.
"I bet you are, sister," Kol hums, smug as a bug.
"Why do I have to be cannon fodder?" She whines.
"Because you're lucky!" Davina chimes in.
Hope waves what remains of her team forward. Once in the foyer-like space, they take up positions on opposite sides of the room, hoping to catch the other team in a crossfire.
A moment later, Rebekah appears from a side hall. She's armed with a Rival pistol, her sniper rifle is slung over her back.
"Well I haven't been shot yet, so I guess that means this room's clear," Rebekah huffs a moment later. She takes a few steps further into their trap.
Behind her, Davina steps out, full-auto machine gun in hand, and hair tied up in a ponytail. She's followed by Kol with that riot shield on one arm and his pistol in single-hand configuration.
"I dunno, Bex," Kol says. "I smell a trap."
Rebekah turns on her heel to stare at him, raising a brow. "You've said that in literally every room we've been in."
"Yeah, well which one of us hasn't gotten shot?" He quips.
"Me." Davina smirks and Kol opens his mouth to reply but closes it a second later.
From the way the three of them have positioned themselves in the room, only Marcel has a feasible shot at any of them. Hope sends him a meaningful look and he just winks.
Throwing away any and all chance at a surprise attack, Marcel steps out from behind his pillar with a lazy grin spread across his face.
"Surprise."
He opens fire, and as for what follows...
Pandemonium.
Kol swears loudly as he moves to shield Davina and poor Rebekah is left to fend for herself. She dives behind a couch and turns her aim on Marcel. Kol and Davina also fire on him and he just manages to duck back behind the pillar to avoid being hit.
Just as Marcel takes cover, Hope and her mother move in for the attack. It's a pincer maneuver - the one thing Kol and Davina's sword and shield tactic can't handle. With fire incoming from two directions, the two of them are out flanked.
Hayley lands two shots to Kol's back and for a moment, the shooting stops.
"Wait Kol, are you dead?" Davina wonders.
The Mikaelson boy tosses his riot shield to the side and looks up with regret in his eyes.
"I'm sorry, darling," He says.
"DAVINA, GET DOWN!!!" Rebekah screams.
In one swift movement, Kol splits his gun in two, leveling one each at Davina and his sister.
Pulling out her sniper rifle, Rebekah uses it as a shield/baseball bat combo as she races to Davina's side. She twists and swings the bulky weapon, knocking Kol's darts out of the air with it in an excellent effort to keep both of them protected as she and Davina climb the foyer's staircase.
With Kol laying down covering fire, Hope, Hayley, and Marcel rush for the cover of a small doorway. Hope throws the door open and waves her team inside. There's a smaller, cozier study space waiting beyond. Hayley's in first, followed by Kol, and then Marcel.
Rebekah rushes to set up a shot from the catwalk adjacent just as Marcel closes the entrance. The doors are nearly shut when her dart streaks through the gap and tags Marcel right between the eyes.
"Well... Damn," He sighs.
Kol whistles. "Nice shot, Bex..."
Marcel smacks him upside the head and stalks off to join the rest of the losers for cocktails.
"That was quite the epic betrayal, Uncle Kol," Hope smirks, snatching Marcel's gun from where he left it on a sofa.
"It was perfect, wasn't it?" He grins.
Hope shakes her head. "Should'a kept the shield."
"Nah, that would have made this next bit far too easy," Kol says, waving a hand. "Now, I take it the two of you have something of a plan?"
"Oh, yeah, let's see-" Hope ticks the bullet points off on her fingers. "Shoot, try not to die, win... That's about it."
Kol nods. "Solid plan. Simple, easy to remember." He turns to Hayley. "We're going to die."
Hope answers his comment instead, shrugging. "Maybe, but if you purposefully gut-shot yourself, I swear I'll kick you."
"Ooh, somebody wants to win," He laughs, grinning cheekily.
"What can I say, I'm sick of losing!" Hope declares.
Before Kol can come up with something more to tease his niece with, a whooshing noise turns all three heads towards the back of the room where a dart flies out from the darkness. It hits Hayley's nose before she can duck.
Crouched in the dark is Rebekah, that alcove is one of those maze-like passengers of halls and stairs between the first and second floor. This is the counter attack.
Hope revs up her new weapon and aims at the shadowy figure, laying down suppressive fire as she and Kol make for cover. None of her shots seem to hit, however, and she crouches behind a bookcase.
Kol, who flung himself onto a sofa, is closer to Rebekah's hiding spot. He reaches one pistol over the back of the couch with the blind confidence of Jack Sparrow and fires two shots.
"Bloody hell! That was my throat!" Rebekah coughs a second later.
"You're dead, sister! Cry about it!" Kol laughs as he reloads his pistol.
Without warning, Davina flings herself over the back of the sofa, landing on top of her husband.
"What the bloody f-" He doesn't even get to finish his profanity.
"Hi." Davina grins.
Kol raises a brow. "Would you kill me, my love?"
She kisses his cheek as she drags her foam knife across his throat.
"Yep!" She cheers, jumping up to her feet again. She turns to face Hope, switching her knife out for a pistol and shotgun while Kol shuffles off to pout like a child.
"Just you and me now," Hope says, leveling her gun on her aunt.
"Just you and me." Davina's smile is razor sharp.
Hope hesitates.
Then she turns, and high-tails it out of that room, screaming over her shoulder.
"You'll never take me alive!"
"That's the idea!" Davina laughs and gives chase.
Hope dashes into the kitchen as fast as her legs will carry her and hops up onto the counter, carefully aiming.
Davina rounds the corner hardly a second later and Hope, heart pounding, shoots first. The rival round bounces off Davina's cheek and all goes still.
"Di-Did I just win?" Hope whispers in awestruck delight.
Davina smiles and droops her weapons, giving her niece a hug. "That you did, Hawkeye."
Hayley wanders in right after with a loving smile. She gives her daughter a kiss on the forehead. "I think this calls for ice-cream," She whispers conspiratorially.
"Who said what about ice-cream?" Cami shouts from across the house and soon there are six or so voices arguing about where to find the best ice cream in New Orleans...
Tagging: @yn-ymn-yln @r13mar @rootbeerfaygo @iiskittles16ii @fandomrulesall-blog @dark-night-sky-99 @railingsofsorrow @apolloroid @thatweirdoleigh @misswe03
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thesovereignchimera · 3 months
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Head cannon: After Spock and Jim are bonded and have to attend any Vulcan high society meetings, Jim takes to wearing ear cuffs that imply the shape of Vulcan ears.
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It fits within the gaudy aesthetic of Vulcan high society and he even notices that it gets him less stares than he would otherwise.
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hana-no-seiiki · 1 year
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YAN! LOVE RIVAL! : They’ll never love someone like you! I’m smarter, richer, the best spouse one could ever look for!
[Y/N]: Not to mention hot.
YAN! LOVE RIVAL! : A—
YAN! LOVE RIVAL! : I’m—
YAN! LOVE RIVAL! : [ Completely red ] TH- THAT ISN’T FAIR! YOU CAN’T JUST SAY STUFF LIKE THAT!
[Y/N]: . . . 100/10. Would smash.
YAN! LOVE RIVAL! : [ Dies ]
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factorybought · 2 months
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My personal take on ancients based on the graffiti within the game itself! This is merely for fun really nothing too solid but I tried my best to stay grounded within possibility :) Hopefully the image quality is okay, Tumblr is very broken on my end xl.. also ignore any typos I’mmm too lazy to rly fix any of it since this was just for shits n giggles
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I never envisioned Ancients being too bigger than puppets, just slightly larger bc I think they'd be cocky enough to want to feel bigger/superior than their creation.
Here are some of the graffiti I referenced outside of the murals if you were curious
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Also that brace drawing I mentioned
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ysoandi · 1 year
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Maggie: Why are Y/N and Carl sitting with their backs to each other?
Rick: They had a fight.
Maggie: Then why are they holding hands?
Rick: They get sad when they fight.
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pixeldemonia · 5 months
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🖤🧡
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I didn't knew what to do with the background so I just started doodling shit until i fill out the blank spaces
The chibi in the corner is so cuteeeee
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rh-ood · 6 days
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Morrigan dragon age redesign 😎
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elijahslittleprincess · 9 months
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eepywriters · 2 months
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dating younger quackity? like 2018-2019
.✦°. • Dating younger Quackity ( ´∀`)
warnings: none^^
a/n: thank u so much for the request! This was super fun to write, took me back to 2019 when I started watching him :D either way hope you enjoy! (Sorry it took so long 😭 life’s been busy)
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I feel like he’d be the type to fall in love with his best friend, or generally someone that he knows fairly well
Expect nights spent talking on the phone with him, laughing your asses off at memes and stupid games instead of doing homework
Or endless bike rides around the city, as if you didn’t do that one route million of times
Maybe even little lessons on the basics of boxing (he isn’t a very good teacher though, he’s too afraid to hurt you)
It comes naturally, his heartbeat starts to pick up every time he hears your voice, your laugh, you saying his name ugh
And you won’t stop leaving his mind, you’re always there, in every each one of his thoughts (might as well pay rent at this point)
Have you always sound this pretty?
Have you always been this pretty?
Before he knows it, he’s noticing all the little details that make you, well, YOU
He’s in love.
Fuck.
He wouldn’t know what to do about his feelings, either he ignores them and buries this secret deep into his heart, or, after a scary amount of convincing from his friends, he confronts you with the shyest demeanor you’ve ever seen him wear
Assuming this is one of his first experiences, if not the first, he would be very cautious in his actions, not sure yet about how to handle a relationship, especially if it gets more serious
He wouldn’t talk about being in a romantic relationship for a while, mostly cause he doesn’t like to share his personal life too much, especially when it comes to romance
But is there a teenage boy that doesn’t like to brag about being in a relationship?
Would mention it once, casually, you know, to be cool and all
Like “yeah I have a partner” a little smile to top it off, nothing big, just a bit of something to feel swag
Nobody believed him.
The loud boy who screamed about the president 24/7 having a partner? Yeah nice try kiddo, go back to play your stupid videogames
At some point in his young carrier he got tired about the running joke of you being an illusion
“This is what too much screen time does to a person KEKW” chat would say, haha how funny (if you hadn’t notice, he’s being sarcastic)
As frustrating as it was to battle against hundreds of people on whether HE was in a relationship or not, he’d never ask you to do anything you are uncomfortable in doing
So, even if showing up on stream would probably help with this little problem of his, he’d encourage you to actually think carefully if you want to make an appearance or not
“I do have a partner!” Alex says for what feels like the fiftieth time that evening. He should probably give up, after all who cares if chat doesn’t believe him. He knows the truth and that’s enough. Right?
WRONG.
His credibility, and his pride, are in the way. Plus is he even that bad of a catch for people to think he can’t pull?
His head falls onto his hand, resting there as he lets his thoughts run while the fast stream chat on his monitor lights up his face in various dull colors.
You were sitting on a little chair, not too far away from him, staring at something in your phone. He did feel bad for inviting you over just for him to stream an hour later, but you had always said that you didn’t mind watching him since you liked seeing him do something he enjoyed. As if he didn’t enjoy spending time with you, but fine.
So he put his insecurities aside, most of them being about you possibly not liking his streams, and provided you a chair to at least sit comfortably as he robbed you of your time by going live yet again.
It had been going fairly well: he was checking out some horrible games in Roblox, or rather he had been screaming his lungs out for an hour straight, and of course, when a random kid on Roblox asked him to be his girlfriend, chat got back on their “no relationship, you are a loser” (he knows it’s a long name, he couldn’t come up with anything better okay??) agenda.
Your hand waving in his peripheral vision brought him back from his mind: he hadn’t realized he had zoned out.
He looked at you briefly, almost feeling bad for the worried stare you were giving him. He usually doesn’t feel this defeated after an unserious bickering with chat, but to say that this all situation wasn’t playing with his self-doubts would be lying. He’s fine though, he just feels a little gloomy today.
You turn your head to the side and give him a thumps up, voicelessly asking whether he was fine or not. And he just nods, giving you a little, forced, smile before going back to the bright monitor. He doesn’t like the thought of you being concerned about this. While, admittedly, it does feel nice to have someone worried about him, Alex never quite liked to be a bother to anyone. He could handle this alone.
Then why is his head so heavy? And why does he feel without energy all of a sudden? He just needs to do what he does best: push the pain away and walk forward. But even something as easy as that sounds impossible right now.
Maybe he should end stream.
He’s too lost in his own thoughts to realize you had stood from your chair, steadily approaching his setup. When he realizes what’s going on, it’s too late.
“You don’t-“ before the frantic words can leave his mouth, you were already behind him. You cross your arms down his chest, whilst your head, resting on the top of his beanie, being high enough to not get seen by the webcam.
Many things were going trough Alex���s mind, a lot of them being about how nice it felt being hold by you, but only two words left his lips:
“Who’s got no game now, huh?”.
At that point it would go from chat not believing him to chat teasing him endlessly about him being a simp
You two could do nothing and he would still be accused of it, just because you were there
Is it true? Yeah, but it was nonetheless a bit annoying
He WOULD bully you on stream when the secret is out
Chat: “do you like (Name) or Thanos more? Don’t lie”
“Well…” he’d say, scratching his neck in faux uneasiness.
“Don’t think about it what the fuck!”.
His chat took your relationship quite well, after all the time he wasn’t famous enough to have fans being jealous and obsessing over him
Actually you became kind of an icon of his channel
And he did milk this for content but it’s not like you didn’t encourage him, quite the contrary, so expect videos like “playing Roblox with my partner” or “The best Habbo raid ever w/(Name)”
As sweet as this all can be, we haven’t forgot about his light teasing (borderline bullying) on stream, have we?
Don’t worry, you got back at him with the help of Aksel countless of time, he’d be your partner in crime when it came to bullying Alex
You were watching meme compilations with them on stream, occasionally sharing some little laughs and snarky comments, and, one way or another, you somehow ended up talking about shampoos. Yes, shampoos.
“Honestly, I think 2 in 1 are gross” Alex says, spinning around in his chair while still keeping an eye on the running chat. You were sitting next to him in your usual simple wooden chair that he usually stole from his kitchen. It wasn’t much, and you could feel your thighs getting painted with the hard design of your seat, but it feels very homy, heart warming in its simplicity.
Yet, as comfortable and happy as you felt, you really couldn’t help spatting out the comment that had been dancing dangerously on the tip of your tongue, begging to be freed.
“And what would you know about it you bald fuck”.
Silence filled the room.
.
.
.
You start to grow worried you stepped over the line as you shoot guilty side-glances at him, trying to evaluate whether he was or wasn’t okay with your stupid joke. His spinning was getting gradually slower, and his eyes wide and open jaw came to view.
You’re able to let out a silent sigh of relief as Alex’s face sinks into a, clearly exaggerated, offended pout.
“Have you heard them?? Defend me Aksel what the hell” he cries dramatically, his mindless spinning coming at a halt to stare into the soul of his screen, specifically at the man that is lightly grinning right back at him.
“I mean.. they’re kinda right man..” he mutters in his typical monotone voice, barely holding back an amused snicker.
Alex’s look of betrayal was probably the funniest shit you had seen in a while.
“Why are you two ganging up on a Mexican guy huh??”
“Awww the Mexican card? No better come back??” you laugh smugly, your face screaming “triumph” as he gawks at you.
“You truly found your match” Aksel laughs, adjusting his bucket hat as he leaned down on his office chair.
“Shut the fuck up” he mumbles before looking away from you with a huff.
Oh God does he love you.
Moving on though, these were harsh years for him, so he needs lots of love and support from his partner
I think it’d be too soon to have full on cuddling sessions, but i see him loving your touch, especially if it’s something domestic like a simple hug or a little caress down his back
Not really into PDA either, but he would find comfort in holding your hand whenever he’s tense or even just cold
It’s a reminder you are still by his side despite all of his flaws and insecurities, you chose him
(Ended up being way longer than I intended but had fun :D sorry for the long wait :( I had two very stressing weeks in the middle of writing this)
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ty-the-trainwreck · 2 months
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i think robin buckley really liked dinosaurs when she was younger so she read all the books in the library about them and would go into the toy store to play with the dinosaur toys for hours but not buy them since she didnt have any money and one day somebody buys her favorite dinosaur and eventually she moves on despite how heartbroken she is and it turns out that the person who bought the dinosaur was nancy wheeler and robin finds out because she sees the dinosaur on nancy’s shelf and says “it was you!” and nancy is like “pardon?”
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alien-slushie · 5 months
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Todoroki: Why are you smiling like that? You look suspiciously like the cat that swallowed the pidgeon.
Uraraka: Canary.
Todoroki: What?
Uraraka: I look like the cat that swallowed the canary.
Todoroki: I once had a very large cat-not the point! My point is, why are you smirking?
Uraraka: You were watching him.
Tsuyu: With great interest I might add.
Uraraka: In fact, I believe you were ~enraptured~.
Todoroki: He's Midoriya, I look to him for guidance!
Uraraka: Oh I see.
Tsuyu: And what 'guidance' did you see in those swaying hips?
Todoroki: No no no! I wasn't looking at his hindquarters!
Uraraka: Certainly.
Todoroki: I gazed-glanced in that direction, maybe! But I wasn't staring, or really seeing anything.
Uraraka: Of course.
Todoroki: I hate you guys. You're bad people.
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Southern Nights
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Title: Southern Nights 🌃
Word Count: 3,500
Warnings: Nightmares, talk about death
Summary: The first night they ever spent together went a little something like this... || Kolvina Short || Here lies my Masterlist
A/N: Here by popular demand on Wattpad. I might do more of these. if requested. Sorry, it's a little short.
The dump motel had been entirely Davina’s idea, thank you very much. Although seeing as she was the one with the credit card - courtesy of an unwitting Marcel - and considering the fact that he had spent the last three months lying to her about his identity, he didn’t feel all that inclined to argue. Hence why he sat on an uncomfortable wooden chair, right next to an extraordinarily dirty window, watching the lightning bugs blink through their midnight waltz. 
See, Kol Mikaelson had a fondness for New Orleans nights. Eventide in the Big Easy was one of the few things about Louisiana that he wouldn’t complain about. (Although that certainly isn’t to say he couldn’t complain about it. Kol could always find a reason to complain, much to his sibling’s chagrin.) The days he’d spent in New Orleans as a vampire hadn’t impressed him. Aside from the shroud of magic that enveloped the city (a quality as torturous as it was enrapturing because while he could practically taste the sparks of sorcery dancing on the thick summer wind he remained utterly incapable of connecting to it - so close yet just out of reach) and the constant roar of Jazz thrumming through the streets like the boisterous laughter of an unhappy man, days in the Crescent city really didn’t have all that much to offer. 
The nights, however? Well, New Orleans nights were something special. 
It was after the sun went down that the little city by the river came to life. On nights like this one when the sun’s heat took its leave and all the wild things crept from their holes to party the night away in rhythm with the ever-flowing Jazz under the light of the bayou stars. The magic in the air was palpable - thick enough to taste - and now that he was a witch once again he could feel it pulsing in his bones. He had missed such a feeling more than he could say. If it were up to him, he would be outside, simply basking in the connection he’d been deprived of for so long. But it wasn’t up to him. Instead, he was stuck inside a filthy motel room because of bloody Claire witches and their fire-inclined temperaments and Davina Claire had spelled the bloody door shut. 
What a woman. He couldn’t even find it within himself to be annoyed. Of course, he could easily undo the spell she’d used to lock him in, but that would be a moot point as he was actually a willing prisoner in this instance, and leaving this nasty - although admittedly extraordinarily well-warded - room would only make it easier for his mother to pin down his location and attempt to drag him back into her barmy-brained schemes. (That was a big ‘no-thank-you’ in his book. Alive or dead, Kol would not be his mother’s puppet.) The attention of good ole’ mother dearest was the last thing he needed. Besides, betraying his companion’s albeit minimal trust wasn’t going to do him any favors in the eyes of one Davina Claire. 
He glanced over his shoulder at the sleeping form of the Claire witch curled up on one of the motel’s twin beds, the one closest to him - and the door but that was only natural. He turned his eyes away from her rather quickly, gazing back out the window. For the love of Thor, he wasn't a complete degenerate; he wasn't going to watch her sleep no matter how adorable she may have been in her unconscious state. She'd had a hard day, used up quite a bit of magic, not to mention the minor head injury. The same could be said of him. Kol had no business being awake at such an hour anyway, but he'd always seemed to function better at night. He wasn't a morning person, that was for sure. Falling asleep at one in the morning wasn't uncommon for him, though he considered it an achievement if he managed to drag his corpse out of bed before noon. On the other hand, Davina, at least from what he'd gathered, was more of an 'early to bed early to rise' sort of person. Although one would certainly have to be in order to get the jump on his brother. He smiled softly at the thought. He was glad she'd finally drifted off to sleep, though it had taken him pretending to be unconscious for an hour before she dared to close her eyes. Not that he could blame her; he'd have done the same thing had their roles been reversed.
Bloody hell, she must hate him now.
Kol sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. He could picture the hurt in her eyes when she'd finally seen past his lies. For the record, Kol had never wanted to hurt Davina Claire. If he'd been ready, then maybe he would have been able to keep her out, but she had connected to him faster than he could react and viola, there you have it: Kol Mikaelson's Greatest Hits - The Double Feature. All his secrets, all his lies, all his worst deeds - all arranged on a silver platter. What a lovely way to start a friendship, ay?
"You're one of them," She'd seethed. It was the way she said it and the way she'd looked at him - as if he were the most revolting thing she'd ever seen.
Not that he could blame her. 
He was a screw-up, plain n' simple. That was all he'd ever been - all he ever would be - just some sick, twisted reject that nobody in their right mind could ever want. A thousand years was a long time and all he could seem to do was fail. Then by some bloody miracle, he'd finally met the girl of his dreams and he'd screwed that up too! Davina Claire was so extraordinary and all he'd wanted was for her to see something - anything - of value in him. That was all he'd ever wanted anyone to see, just something worth holding on to - something worthwhile. Kol wasn't like his siblings, he didn't need all that much, just a little bit - just one person to say one thing to let him know that all his pain, all his torment, all his thousand years culminating with his bloody death - for crying out loud - that it all hadn't just been for bloody nothing! That he hadn't been for nothing. There had to be a point to it all - there just had to be.
And, you know, he'd really tried this time. He'd tried so hard for Davina, because he’d seen her smile from across the street and if there was a point to all his everything, then she was it. If anyone on the planet was ever worth being good for, it was that lovely little witch. Maybe it was a little pathetic of him. After all, he'd seen her smile one bloody time, but that was all it took. Because Kol had died one thousand years before, and there was no magic that could bring him back to life - no magic except for Davina Claire. He wanted to be the reason Davina smiled. He really wanted to be worth that. 
And he'd tried.
"You liar!"
One thousand years was a long time to spend screwing up. Failure, it seemed, was his specialty.
But for however spectacular he was at failing, he was an expert in trying again. He’d spent his whole life getting back up and brushing himself off because that was all he could do. Checking out had been fun while it lasted, but at the end of the day, Kol had always been left to ‘figure it out’ because the worst thing about being human was a little thing called hope and Kol knew from experience that screwing up could never hurt as much as giving up. He'd already died twice. What more did he have to lose?
That was just it. He had nothing.
Nothing but himself, and something to do with that sick, twisted reject.
Davina murmured something in her sleep. He ignored it at first as he still liked to consider himself a gentleman and giving her the privacy to talk in her sleep was the least he could do. A few moments later, the girl made another small noise - it sounded more like a whimper this time. Kol frowned. Checking over his shoulder, nothing seemed to be amiss, but appearances could be misleading. Davina turned over with a tiny moan, then she huffed and turned back.
"Davina?" Kol hissed, weary of waking her. "Davina, are you awake?"
The girl gave no reply, at least not one he could understand. She huffed again, and then another time and Kol realized her huffs were actually small sobs. Davina was crying. He didn't want her to cry.
"Davina?" He raised his voice just slightly in hopes of somehow being able to soothe her. "You're alright, darling. Just go back to sleep."
The young Claire witch whined and gasped, kicking a little and gripping the sheets with enough force to tear through them. "No…" She choked out, her peaceful expression contorted into something pained. "No, stop it! Stop it! Stop!" 
Kol caught the strain of panic rising through her voice and felt the charge of magic begin to build in the room. He was up and moving in the next instant, rushing to Davina's side. 
"Hey! Hey, Davina! Wake up, darling!" He shook her shoulder once gently, unsure of what else he could do. She just looked rather small in her vulnerable state; he didn't want to do something that might hurt her. Although, as her thrashing grew more intense he was forced to reconsider. Gripping both her shoulders, he shook her firmly, raising his voice quite a bit this time. "Wake up, Davina, you're dreaming! You need to wake up!"
Davina managed to free one arm from its entanglement in her sheets and she used it to bat his hands away. "No! Stop it!" Davina screamed. "Let go of me! STOP!" 
Haunted witches were dangerous things - experience had taught Kol that much. For someone so young and so powerful, Davina's control was impressive but she was vulnerable in this state, and whatever terror was stalking the Claire witch's dreams would drive her magic to react. He was lucky he sensed the burst of magic before it came. 
Davina shrieked and an invisible force tore from her chest - a magical discharge powerful enough to cause the ground beneath them to quake. Throwing his arms up to shield his head, Kol murmured a protection spell, gritting his teeth in his effort to hold it as the veritable tidal wave of Davina's magic crashed into this body's meager capacity. (Once again, Kol cursed his mother. Esther knew of his knowledge and capabilities, she knew he was a threat and had placed him into one of the weakest vessels she could find.) The blast from Davina's magic receded, leaving him stumbling as he paused to catch his breath. He glanced around the room, assessing for damage. Aside from exhausting his reserves, Kol had managed to remain mostly unscathed; the motel's mirror, however, was less fortunate. The chair he’d been sitting on only moments before had also been obliterated - blown to bits and he was glad he’d managed to avoid the splinters.
Davina continued to thrash about wildly as if fighting for her life. (He knew what that looked like, he’d seen it thousands of times.) Kol struggled to his feet and moved back to Davina’s side, shaking her again. 
“Davina!” He called. “Bloody hell, Davina! Come on!” All he got for his efforts was a solid kick to the side as the air in the room began to swirl around them. He swallowed his pain with a curse and sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. Unsure where he pulled the strength from, Kol channeled all the power he had left into reaching out to Davina - into her mind, swirling with fear and chaos. He could feel them - the ancestors of New Orleans - stalking her dreams, keeping her trapped. Esther had corrupted them - they coveted Davina’s power as did she; they continued to torment the girl for her bravery, hoping to break her. But Kol knew they would fail. Davina Claire was stronger than them; they would never control her again. He could sense her fighting even now, scratching, biting, and clawing her way to the surface. She didn’t need his help, she never had, but he would offer it all the same. It was like extending a hand and she didn’t take it immediately. “Come on, Davina…” His power was waning. “You don’t have to do this alone…” She took his hand
“Surgere,” He muttered.
Davina shot up with a gasp. Trembling and sobbing, her hand flew to her throat as she frantically tried to place her surroundings. Kol raised his hands in what he hoped was a soothing gesture, keeping his voice soft. “Shhh, it’s alright, darling. You’re alright. It was just a dream.” 
"I-I know. I just-" She panted, coughing at the dryness in her throat. 
Satisfied she wasn’t going to blast him to kingdom come, Kol lowered his hands and moved to sit beside her, rubbing circles over her back like he used to do when Rebekah had a nightmare. “It was just a dream, Davina. You’re safe.” 
The girl looked up, those round blue-grey eyes that always reminded him of the morning mist were filled with tears. He saw in her eyes the innocence they both had lost. The tears dripped from her long lashes and Kol caught them with his thumb, wishing he could brush away her pain just as easily. “Kaleb?” She sniffed. And he didn’t even care that it wasn’t his name on her lips. He didn’t care because the way she was looking at him was enough. She looked at him like he was worth something. 
“Yeah, it’s me,” He breathed. “It’s me, Davina. You’re okay.”
Davina shook her head, curling her arms close to her chest. “They-They were slaughtering us,” She whispered, her voice hoarse.
“Bloody hell…” Of course, she was dreaming about the bloody Harvest. He had figured as much but to hear her confirm it just gave him yet another reason to make sure his Mother’s plans failed. “I know. I’m so sorry had to go through that, Davina. I’m sorry your ancestors abused you and I’m sorry they won’t leave you alone but, you know what? Look at me.” She just shook her head and buried her face in her arms. “Davina look at me.” He pressed a kiss to her hair and guided her to raise her gaze. “You beat them. You beat them at their own game, one you never should’ve had to play, but you did and you won. You won, and because you won, they will never again have any power over you - not unless you let them. You are stronger than they are, Davina Claire, you always have been and you always will be.”
The girl nodded slightly and sat up, moving away from him. He let her go. “Thank you,” She said. Her tone was stiffer than before as she scrubbed her eyes. “You can go back to sleep now.”
“Ah, but we were having so much fun,” He joked, trying to pull a smile from her. She huffed a little but it wasn’t exactly a laugh. “Do you want to, I dunno, talk about it? I don’t mind staying up,” He continued, trying to be somewhat helpful. He'd never been very good at emotions but he could try, Davina was worth the effort.
“No.” She shook her head, her mouth fixing into a firm line. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? I could-” He started.
She cut him off. “Nice try, but please just don’t.” Her tone was sour and her eyes were back to steel.
Kol sighed. “Davina, I-”
“You know, I almost believed you just now -” Davina chuckled to herself lightly, wiping the last traces of her tears away. “- But then I remembered that you’re not actually my friend and that you’ve been lying to me since the day we met.
He hissed, frowning. “Friend? Way to hurt a man’s pride, love.”
“What?” 
“Well, flirting isn’t usually a platonic gesture,” He drawled, smirking a little.
Davina rolled her eyes. “You’re still a liar.” 
He was. Kol was a liar. He'd been lying for as long as he could remember. He'd lied for Henrik, for Rebekah, even for Niklaus. He lied quite a lot. He was good at it. But, strange as it was, he didn't want to lie to Davina, he wanted to tell her everything. Even the things that didn't matter - the oddest fleeting thoughts he had, he wanted to share with her and he wanted to hear her's in return. Yes, Kol wanted a lot of things with Davina Claire... and most of them were entirely rated PG.
“Would you believe me if I said I’ve lied more for you than I have to you, darling?” He asked. Though he didn’t let her answer. “And you’ve lied for me too. You could’ve ratted me out to Marcel today, but you didn’t. You trust me, Davina Claire, even if you won’t admit it.”
Her face betrayed nothing. She only sighed and dragged her fingers through her hair. “Just go away, Kaleb.”
“It’s Kol.”
“Kol …whatever, just go.” She turned over, facing away from him, signaling that this was the end of their conversation. Kol stood up rather reluctantly, moving over to the other bed and laying back.
The night was still dark and nature was alive outside, but it was quiet in the room. Kol knew she wasn’t sleeping, knew she didn’t intend to for the rest of the night. He knew she was just going to tough it out because she thought she had to. It wasn’t fair - he didn’t want her to suffer the same way he had. Kol knew what it was like to die - no one in his family had mentioned it after the fact. It was sort of a taboo subject, nobody brought it up and everyone suffered. But Davina shouldn’t have had to do it alone.
“I have ‘em too,” He spoke into the darkness. The Claire witch gave no reply but she shifted and Kol took that as encouragement enough to go on. “Nightmares, I mean. You would think that after all this time they would fade, yet I still dream about it. It’s like a loop in my head, can’t seem to make it stop.”
Her voice was so quiet that he almost didn’t catch it. “What do you dream about?”
“The night I died.” A wry smile stretched across his face. “The first time, not the second, mind you.” He heard her laugh just slightly. “I won’t say I know how you feel, Davina. But I remember how I felt. I remember that lingering cold and that sensation that feels as though you’re floating while your body feels like it’s too heavy to bear. I remember that. I told you we're Kindred Souls and I meant it… You’re not alone.” 
“Do you…Did it hurt?” She whispered. He couldn’t see her face but, oh how he wished he could. Her voice was soft, tentative. “Do you remember the pain?”
“Yes.” He replied. The girl was silent for a few moments, and Kol waited, simply listening to the cicadas buzzing outside. He didn't expect her to say anything. She didn't need to. He didn't sleep either, electing to stare out the window instead and watch the stars begin to fade.
“Kaleb?”
“Hmm?"
“How did you die?”
He sighed. Of all the questions he supposed hers was the only one that mattered. “I died running," He began. "I was running to warn my siblings, and every time I think; if I had only been a little bit faster, perhaps things would have been different… I guess I’ll never know.” His tone was rather calm as he spoke of his death. It was soft and almost detached but reminiscent as well. “My father ran his sword through my back - missed my heart, though. I died slowly. The minutes ticked by and-and every breath was agony. I felt helpless, scared, and alone, unable to move, unable to die - half drowning in my own blood and no one was around and no one knew and I knew that my siblings were only minutes away from the same. Yet, I could do nothing but choke and die… It’s strange to feel yourself bleed out, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” She said, her voice the same as his. She said: “I didn’t like it very much.”
“Neither did I.”
Minutes drifted on. The sky gained a little bit of light, but only enough to turn the sky from black to grey. Davina still had more questions.
“Kaleb?”
“Yes?”
And she asked: “Did you scream?”
And he said: “No.” He told her: “I wanted to. I tried a few times but all I heard was silence. See the movies have it wrong, you can’t scream when stabbed in the back. I tried and I tried, but I couldn’t. There was no one around to hear me anyway.”
“What did the sword feel like?” She wondered.
“It was metal,” He answered. “It was cold.”
“Kol?”
“Yes?”
A pause. 
“This doesn’t mean I trust you.”
Kol just chuckled. “Guess I’ll have to keep trying, love.”
“Goodnight,” She said.
“Sweet dreams, Davina Claire.”
Kol Mikaelson and Davina Claire would spend quite a few nights together after that, and he'd be saying those words every night for a while, whether the girl herself was there to hear them or not. Though neither of them knew that yet, it was alright, because - be it the magic or the company - those hot summer nights in New Orleans were something special.
Tagging: @yn-ymn-yln @r13mar @rootbeerfaygo @iiskittles16ii @fandomrulesall-blog @dark-night-sky-99 @railingsofsorrow @apolloroid (Tell me if you want on or off the tag list!)
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cillmequick · 3 months
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I just found out that you write other characters of Cillian and was wondering if you had any head canons or thoughts on what it would be like to be in a relationship with Jonathan Crane?
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Isn’t he just dreamy? 🥵
Oh IVY!! 🫠🫠 How did you know that’s my favourite iteration of Crane right there?! 🤤
I love it almost as much as this slutty little head flick - I mean, look at this twinky little whore…
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Anyway, I digress!
So I’ve never actually written for Crane before… not because I don’t find him interesting, just because I’ve never found the time or had a story I wanted to tell. There are some amazing Crane writers around who are much better at characterising him than I would be - @kiss-me-cill-me , @emotionalcadaver , @scorpiussage and @slut4thebroken to name just a few. But I’ve jotted a few thoughts for you…
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Headcannons: Being In A Relationship with Jonathan Crane
▪️Jonathan is meticulous. In all things, including his relationships.
▪️Being romantically involved with someone is probably something he’s not hugely experienced in - sure he’s had sex but does it count when you’ve kidnapped someone using fear toxin? He’s pretty sure it doesn’t.
▪️So being a man of science, he treats his relationship like an experiment. What are the variables and how far can he push certain elements before he breaks it.
▪️This can be quite wearing as Crane’s SO - let’s just say that he’s lucky he’s pretty.
▪️However, his forensic interest in understanding every detail includes sex - he’s determined to uncover every single thing that makes her fall apart, spending hours teasing and edging, finding all her weak spots until she’s begging for release.
▪️He has to be reminded to do ‘normal relationship things’ like Valentine’s Day (he hates it - why should he give money to a capitalist nonsense holiday? - but it seems to make her disproportionately happy when he takes her out for dinner and presents her with a box from Tiffany’s and that’s an interesting piece of data for his notes).
▪️(The gratitude sex afterwards is also extremely worth the effort)
▪️Coaxing Jonathan out of himself and away from his work takes time - he’s a workaholic and often comes home, smelling of acrid chemicals, pale eyes heavy behind his glasses.
▪️Trust is something that doesn’t come easy to the man and so he keeps her at arm’s length for a long time, afraid that if he lets her in, she might not like what she finds beneath the surface.
▪️But he couldn’t be more wrong and when he finally gives in, letting her hold him with his head against her chest, she cradles him as he falls asleep and for the first time in his life he feels safe.
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Uh oh… shit… do I need to write something proper for him now…? 😳 Anyway! I hope these tickled your fancy 😘 xxx
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hana-no-seiiki · 3 months
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☁️ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ FIVE STAGES OF YANDERE ࿐: HERO
“𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒, 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐈 𝐃𝐈𝐃.”
⟣┄─ ˑ 𝐈. ✧ yandere/tsundere! modern hero x villain! reader
✧ status: unedited
✧ tw/cw: yandere themes, violence, morally dubious reader, horny hero, tsundere hero.
✧ a/n: both character’s genders are up to your imagination. also i’m making this my permanent theme now for general yans fics (consistency/recognizabilty’s sake)
[series masterlist]
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⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE ONE. ✧ DENIAL
“You’re getting a bit sloppy aren’t you, lil hero?”
“Shut up, wretched being! C-Come back here!”
You and Yandere! Hero have been nemeses for what felt like lifetimes. Ever since you became a sidekick as a kid, up until the present time as adults.
You saw them as a sibling. You’d fight once in a while but neither truly hurt each other. In fact, you never once attempted to kill them, and they in turn never attempted to put you behind bars. The cycle always repeated.
You were relatively close in terms of power. More times than not, things would end up being a tie where the two of you would be too tired to continue. But recently your cutie patootie hero has been getting sluggish. Their attacks lacked any sort of vigour, and their reflexes dulled.
You would offer to talk and assist them, but another one of your hidden rules in this relationship of sorts was that you two would never interfere with life outside of crime and fighting thereof.
Unbeknownst to you, Yandere! Hero fought another villain (cheater!) whose powers were related to nightmares and fears.
Their greatest nightmare . . . was losing their status as a hero — losing you.
You have been such a huge part of their formative years and beyond that the thought of even retiring and losing contact scared the hell out of them. The idea of never being able to banter as you sparred, the concept of losing sight of that smug grin of yours on the times you won, and the very notion of you being dealt with by someone else — their chest would tighten to the point of being unable to breathe.
But they always shook their head, drowned themself in tasks as to avoid the anxiety that threatened their focus. After all, you were a villain. A monstrous creature that have hurt and killed people. The only reason they haven’t taken you down yet was because they were instructed by their predecessor not to.
Yeah, the fear of losing you? Probably just an extension of their desperate and zealous view on their position as a hero
They prayed it was.
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⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE TWO. ✧ ANGER
“I told you that they were mine to take care of! You gave me this duty!”
“You and I both know you’ve been losing your fights more often than not. Look at how many people they’ve started to hurt again! I can’t leave you with a responsibility you, can’t, handle.”
Yandere! Hero couldn’t believe their ears. Everything they feared was starting to come true and it was only getting worse.
They started disobeying their mentor/predecessor’s commands. Commands that they used to referees — worship even. They knew they were making things go from trash to absolute shit, but they couldn’t care less anymore.
So what if you hurt those people? From what they understood, those people were a bunch of assholes at best; Crime-lords, all types of traffickers, and violent thugs. In fact, the very reason you aren’t in cuffs was because you often took justice into your own hands. You were just quite cruel and brutal when it came down to it.
One of their more unforgettable moments of you together was the time you saved them from another villain. You in your blood-soaked glory as you grinned, an attempt to comfort them while they neck-deep in voices that screamed failure. They were barely hurt while you could barely stand, yet you were the one hushing them as you rubbed circles on the small of their back. Shared whispers they’ll die before they talk of it to anyone else.
Yandere! Hero keeps meeting you again and again. Doing duties they were already forbidden from completing and abusing the favor of being a sidekick for so long.
Things get from worse to oblivion when they get news of being replaced.
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⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE THREE. ✧ BARGAINING
“At least let me accompany them on patrols! What if they get hurt?”
“You worked alone just fine.”
“That is an entirely different story!”
This newbie didn’t know you for several years. This newbie never experienced fighting you much less alongside you. You would eat them alive.
Granted, it would be the newbie’s fault for being so incompetent but they digress.
While on patrol with the newbie, they do their best to sabotage them in every way they can. Giving them the wrong intel, alerting the enemy of their arrival if they do figure out the proper location, and above all making sure you two never cross paths at all. A peer of theirs hurting you would kill them.
Of course, with their frantic and frankly stressed out mind, it wasn’t long before you and the newbie encounter one another.
And, the two of you got along quite well. Your moves like a beautifully choreographed routine in the battlefield. More importantly, it looked as if you were having so much fun.
They really couldn’t help themself
When they stepped in and interrupted the two of you
A glaze in their eyes as they walked ever so slowly to the newbie and strangled them.
That horrified look on your face. They didn’t know if they liked it or hated it.
But what they did know is that from that moment forward, they can never call themself a proper hero again. Their mentor’s words echoed in their head.
“You are staying at the base and that is final. If I see you again out on the field, I’ll be the one to put you behind bars.”
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⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE FOUR. ✧ DEPRESSION
“Breaking News: A new vigilante has been spotted! Has our favorite hero been replaced? Well our sources say yes!”
“And would you look at that, they’re even worse at hiding their interest in their nemesis! Is this the love story we’ve all been waiting for?”
Yandere! Hero doesn’t remember when they last saw the sun anymore.
Their days were spent deep within the basement of the hero HQ, scrolling through any information they could find of you.
Their head constantly replaying the memories you shared, written in a systematic obsessed manner on a journal. From the very second you two first met, to the time you looked at them with eyes full of horror.
Your image had been scribbled, drawn, painted, carved, broken down, and built back up again hundreds of times.
But it just wasn’t enough.
Yandere! Hero used to wish that there would be a day you two would stop fighting. Whether it’d be them finally ending your streak of misdeeds, or you quitting. Anything would have satisfied them.
But now, now they just couldn’t see the appeal of it all.
All they could see was eternity with you.
And they’ll have that one way or another.
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⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE FIVE. ✧ ACCEPTANCE
“I never could have imagine this to happen.”
“Really? You must have thought that I’d put you behind bars one day.”
“My fantasies were always, well — the other way around.”
You wore a calm expression.
Yandere! Hero, ever the fragile ego they had, would have seen this as an insult. A slight to their prowess.
But right now they couldn’t help but sigh in relief. Of course you wouldn’t be mad if they did this. You were you after all. You’ve been through much worse than being tied up and forced into a small cage more fit for an animal than a human.
And you being you, knew the many other ways to unnerve your poor rival.
“Wouldn’t it be ironic? If your replacement were to save me that is.”
You fought the anticipation from appearing on your face as you continued.
“Then they would truly become my hero.”
But your hopes were dashed, your giddiness dimmed as they simply replied.
“Then I’ll just kill them, and the next replacement after that. Until I go through every single capable human this planet has to offer and then more.”
Perhaps there was a reason why Heroes wore a mask aside from hiding their identities. That would certainly explain the chill you felt crawl up your limbs and spine as they lovingly stared at you.
“Because now I know that I love you. I’ll save you from everyone else but myself.”
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©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023
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klausysworld · 10 months
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Heyy, please could you so some nsfw yandere elijah mikealson head cannons <3
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Yandere!Elijah NSFW Alphabet:
A=Aftercare (what he’s like after)
Elijah would never leave you for even a second after your activities. He’s immediately telling you how amazing you were, kissing up your neck and your jaw as he whispers praises into your ear. He’s gentle and soft after, washing your sensitive skin carefully and kissing your lips delicately.
B= Body part (favorite body part of his own or yours)
Elijah is a thigh man. Whether it be his hands on them or his face between them. He loves to see you in a tight little skirt that hugs your curves and has your squeezing your thighs together. His favourite part of himself is his hands. He knows how fast they can turn you on, he lives for how you squirm with his fingers inside you and a hand round your throat.
C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)
Elijah loves to cum down your throat. He loves to watch you choke on his cock as you try and swallow everything he gives you. He often pulls out to cum over your back or stomach, loving how you look coated in his desire and taking pride in washing it off you.
D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)
Elijah is an absolute animal. He switches from gentleman to beast in seconds. He wants you on your knees, on all fours and he wants you to do exactly as you’re told, exactly when he says it.
E= Experience (does he know what he’s doing)
Elijah is a calculated, intelligent man vampire who has been in the world for over a thousand years. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
F= Favorite position
Doggy mostly. He enjoys having a tight grip on either your throat or hair while he pounds into you over and over. His words are filthy as his hand hits the skin of your ass to make you jolt and let out rasped moans while he fills you up.
G= Goofy (how serious he is)
Elijah is a very serious man. He handles sex almost like it’s business, he knows where, when and how he wants you. Though there are exceptions when he may have been roped into drinking with his brothers and is much more relaxed and clumsy.
H= Hair (grooming habits)
He’s a neat guy, well trimmed and happy with his appearance though if you were to request something he would adjust, for you.
I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)
It’s a mix. It often begins romantic but his animalistic urges nearly always make it much rougher than he intended. There are however, occasions where he’s able to control himself and he’ll be sweet for you. Tell you you’re his good girl while fucking you nice and slow in missionary.
J= Jack off (does he masturbate and how often)
Not once he has you, it’s unnecessary but when he used to watch you, always. He used to sit outside your window or within your closet with his hand around his dick while he watched you change.
K= Kink (kinks what he likes and indulges in)
Elijah is always tying you up, blindfolding you and covering your mouth with his hand to watch you squirm as you try to cry out. He’s very much up for BD/SM and wants to see how far he can push you to find your limits.
L= Location (where he likes to get it on)
Bed, wall, kitchen counter, couch, holding her up in the middle of the room, under the table, bent over the side, anywhere he can.
M= Motivation (things that make him tick/turn ons)
Short skirts and booty shorts have him pining you against the wall with his crotch on your ass. Tilting your head to expose your neck for him has him feral.
N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)
Elijah wouldn’t feel overly comfortable with touching you in your sleep. He may touch himself to your sleeping body, but touching you (even with your consent) makes him feel dirty and cruel. He loves you too much and wouldn’t want you to regret your decision when awake.
O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skill full he is)
Elijah is extremely skilful. He lives between your thighs and knows just how to use his tongue. And as for receiving, he is all the more eager. He loves the way you look with your mouth stretched around his dick as you show him how perfect you are for him.
P= Pace (how fast he is and how long he will last in bed)
He’s quick with his movements but keeps them going for hours on end. He can last for ages, he makes sure to pull at least two or three orgasms out of your before releasing himself.
Q= Quickie (does he prefer fast and hard)
Elijah loves to fuck you nice and hard but that doesn’t mean its over quick. He still wants to have you for as long as he can.
R= Risk (does he like to try new things)
Elijah has already tried pretty much everything but he is all the more happy to see how many of them you will enjoy. Whatever you request, he is up for.
S= Stamina (how many times can he go and how does long each round lasts)
Elijah would go for days if you were able. He loves your body so much, he wishes he would never have to stop.
T= Toys (is he game for using sex toys on himself and/or you)
Elijah is up for toys, he enjoys to see how long you will last with a vibrator inside you before you’re begging for him to fuck you. Leaving inside you and messing with the level throughout the day before returning to find you grinding against his pillow with filthy moans filling the air.
U= Unfair (how does he tease or does he enjoy suspense themselves)
He likes to grope at your breasts, ass and thighs, seeing you get worked up while teasing himself with the feel of you always has you both running hot. He loved how worked up he can get you with just his hands, he loves how you beg for him.
V= Volume (is he loud, what sounds, and does he talk)
He’s more a grunter. Though he’s more prone talking, whispering pure filth into your ear and encouraging your moans to grow louder and louder. He’s much more vocal if you’re on your knees, wanting to spur you on and let you know you’re doing an excellent job.
W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort)
Elijah has a small thing for voyeurism. It would have to be someone he knows is no threat to him, but he can’t help how hot he finds it to watch you be pleasured by someone else with your eyes on his as he stroked himself to your sounds.
X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)
Elijah is very well endowed and he knows it. He may be polite and well mannered but the second he has you alone he’s cocky and pressing his hard on against you to show you just how big he is.
Y= Yearning (sexdrive level)
Elijah is often composed and won’t actively tell you that he needs you but it’s quite obvious that he yearns for you almost constantly with the amount he has you held down.
Z= Zzzz (does he sleep after if so how quickly after)
Elijah doesn’t fall asleep very quickly at all. But it’s okay because it means he has time to clean you up, pamper you and read you to sleep. He will only sleep after you’re knock out against him and he knows there is absolutely nothing that could take you from him.
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casasupernovas · 7 months
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so...snape fans have speculated where cokeworth is located in the england map or what it's equivalence would be. i've seen people speculate it's probably up north perhaps. maybe snape's a northerner.
however.
it's been stated multiple times that cokeworth is in the midlands. so we're thinking northampton, shropshire, stoke, birmingham.
but i prefer to think it's in the black country. mainly for these reasons:
1. cokeworth is an industrial town, even if spinner's end seems mainly abandoned, and the black country was the birth of the industrial revolution.
2. the black country was known for steelworks, glassworks and cokeworks which is maybe where the town got its title from.
3. the black country suffered from high unemployment due to the closing down of a lot of industrial sites in the 60s and 70s which ties into the idea of spinner's end being practically desolate now, and also the strain on the snape's household's economic position.
4. petunia met vernon dursley and marries him. his job was being the director of a firm that made drills. which are made of steel. steelworks anyone?
5. which leads to my last and favourite theory; petunia marrying vernon who perhaps also came from the black country then decided to name their child after something close to home. a nearby town perhaps - dudley.
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