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demonvibez · 9 months

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Hello, I came here to ask you a request: Mc is wearing a pajama (nightgown, little shorts, whatever you want) that shows a little bit too much. So one day, Mc comes down to the kitchen in the middle of the night, taking advantage about the brothers sleeping in their rooms so no one would see her like this, and suddenly, she bump into one of the brothers. How would they react?

A/N: Thank you so much for this request, and sorry for the delay! I started working on it, got writer's blocked, solved the block, then got...inspired, lol. This ended up being like 8 lil narrative one shots. Anyways - This is only part one of two; hope you like! ♡

Characters: [Lucifer / Mammon / Leviathan / Satan] x F! Reader

Word Count: 4.6k+

Rating: Teen [Suggestive Themes]

Tags: suggestive/sexual themes, making out, light petting/groping, reader = she/her pronouns, each demon has a lil backstory

[Part One of Two - Read Part Two Here]

It was late at night in the House of Lamentation, and you had just finished preparing yourself for bed. You had finished your homework for the day, as well as your nighttime routine, and it was time for you to settle down. Just as you sit down on the edge of your bed, you start thinking about how it would be nice to have a quick little snack before you turn in to sleep for the night. Picking up your DDD from the nightstand, you check the time to see just how late it was. You decide that it was probably late enough for everyone to be asleep, and it was safe to venture out into the house alone with what you are wearing - a skimpy spaghetti strap tank top and tiny shorts that leave little to the imagination. You push yourself up off the bed and cross the room, making your way towards the door. Leaving your bedroom door open, you make your way towards the kitchen next door . . .

For the Avatar of Pride, staying up late and overworking himself was a normal part of his daily routine. Usually after dinner, he hides himself away in his study so that he can start working his way through the mountains of paperwork sent to him from his superiors. Usually every night, he has the same routine - he finishes his RAD related paperwork, takes a break to patrol the House, stops by the kitchen for a cup of Hell Coffee and then back up to his study to deal with the paperwork associated with his political duties.

Lucifer starts making his way down the hall for his nightly rounds through the House, as he normally does at this hour. He usually does this in order to make sure his brothers’ mischief was kept at a minimum, but it’s in order to keep you safe as well. He couldn't help but to notice that the chaos in their House had increased quite a bit since you had arrived - some of it from his brothers dragging you into their antics, some of it chaos created all on your own, and some of it external chaos that seeks to consume your beautifully shiny soul. When you first arrived here, you used to be a major source of his headaches. He used to struggle with how to punish you, seeing as you were the fragile little human sent here for Lord Diavolo's exchange mission. But now, the more Lucifer thinks about you, he cannot deny to himself the fondness that has grown for you within his heart. A smile twitches at his lips for a brief moment before he refocuses himself on his task.

Just as he is making his way down the stairs to check the first floor, he hears a noise coming from the kitchen area, a faint glow emitting from its frame and spilling into the hallway. He lets out an exasperated sigh to himself, believing it to be Beelzebub on one of his frivolous late night snack missions. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he strides towards the kitchen door, scripting the lecture he wants to give in his mind as he walks. How many times must he punish the Sixth Born?

When he reaches the doorway, he halts at the unexpected sight before him, and he can’t help but to stand back and observe. He sees you in the kitchen, illuminated by the light of the refrigerator, looking through what’s left of its contents for a snack. You look so innocent while doing so, completely unaware of your surroundings. He wasn’t used to seeing you like this - hell, he wasn’t even used to seeing you dressed like this. Usually dressed in your RAD uniform, the attire you were currently wearing is much more revealing than what he is used to seeing you in. The way the thin cotton fabric clings to your curves, he couldn't stop his eyes from roaming your entire body. You grab something from the fridge, closing it before making your way over to the kitchen island with the leftover Acidic Hell Fries you found. Sitting down with your back turned to the door, you open up the tray and lean in to take a bite, all the while Lucifer can’t help but notice the way your shirt rides up the arch of your back, the way the waistband of your shorts sit right at your hip, the way your skin just looks so soft. He wasn’t sure how a human could stir up such emotions in him, but he was in fact curious to see where it would take him.

In a rare moment of impulsivity, Lucifer swiftly makes his way towards you. Before you even have time to register the Avatar of Pride's presence, he sets both of his hands on the table on each side of you, effectively trapping you between him and the counter. He leans down closer to your ear, the scent of his cologne filling your senses, as he whispers your name into your ear with a very seductive tone. "What do you think you're doing here," he asks, his tone husky as you can feel the warmth of his breath fanning against your skin. Your pulse accelerates as he presses his lips to your earlobe, his gloved hands now slowly finding their way around your waist as Lucifer trails light kisses down the soft flesh of your neck. You would usually have some sort of snarky comeback for Lucifer, stating how it was obvious why you were in the kitchen shoveling fries into your face at half past midnight. But in this moment you couldn't muster up a retort, your brain beginning to fog up with the haze of pleasure that Lucifer's touch can bring. As he continued to tease your neck, occasionally nipping at it with his fangs, his hands began to drift lower on your body, lightly teasing at your waistband. One of his hands pulls your chin up to him, your eyes fluttering shut as his lips collide with yours in a way that sets your soul ablaze with passion.

He slowly pulls away from the kiss, your eyes slowly opening to see his crimson orbs gazing back at you with lust, love and admiration. He slightly loosens his hold on you, before turning you around on the barstool you sat upon to face him. He brushes the hair out of your eyes, tucking it back behind your ear before leaning down to press one more kiss on your lips. When he pulled away this time, you chased his lips with his own, filling him with a sense of pride at the idea that you're craving more of him - much like he craves more of you. He lets out a small chuckle before suddenly sweeping you up in his arms, your legs dangling over one side while your arms instinctively wrap around his neck for safety. "We're heading straight to my room," he said along with your name in a confident tone, "and I hope you have plenty of energy, because we won't be getting much sleep tonight." He carried you out of the kitchen and up the stairs, taking no time getting you to his room and into his silk sheets.

Mammon had just recently arrived home about an hour ago from one of his many side hustles he did to help earn some extra Grimm and pay back a few of his debts. The witches have been hassling him even more than normal recently, threatening a variety of curses if he doesn't comply with their demands, so he's had to take up multiple side hustles in order to make enough money. He could have sworn he paid them off a while ago - math is one of Mammon's strong suits and he always keeps his debt ledger up to date. He's pretty damn sure the witches are just jealous of you, and take it out on him one of the few ways they know will work. They would never mess with you directly - and risk earning the wrath of all seven Avatars of Sin? And perhaps even the Future King of the Devildom himself? Hell nah. They'll just keep toying with Mammon the way they know best.

Normally, Mammon would be pretty exhausted after a grueling shift of serving tables at Hell’s Kitchen, but tonight for some reason, he was feeling restless and couldn’t seem to settle down. He had completed his nightly routine and settled into bed, but he found himself feeling restless, scrolling Devilgram instead and finding himself growing bored rather quickly. After tossing and turning in his bed for what felt to him like an eternity, he let out an annoyed groan and pushed himself out of bed. If he couldn’t lull himself to sleep, he might as well go find his favorite human. He crossed the room to pick up his designer underwear and sweatpants off the couch, slipping them both on before making his way to the door. Once his door is closed, he starts briskly but silently making his way across the hall and down the stairs, doing his best to avoid running into any of his brothers - namely, Lucifer.

Making a beeline straight for your room, Mammon notices the door is open and just walks inside as if he owns the place. “Oi, human! I’m bored, why don't ya-” he says, before looking around to see that the room is actually empty. “Where the hell even are ya,” he mumbles to himself with an exasperated huff, turning about-face and exiting your room. As he steps out into the hallway, he finally notices the kitchen light is on. He starts stomping his way over to the kitchen, mumbling something about how much work it is to watch after one stupid little human, when he crosses the threshold of the door and almost bumps into you as he is turning the corner. "Aye, what gives," he says in an almost shouting tone, "ya gotta watch it, human! Ya gotta be more careful! Ya ain't always gonna have the Great Mammon to..." he trailed off as he finally looks down at you, taking in fully just how you look and what you are wearing. His eyes widen and his jaw drops, standing there completely frozen in shock as his eyes scan you up and down repetitively.

Despite the many times the two of you have shared a bed, he has never seen you wear something so small and form fitting as pajamas before. Usually when he was over, you'd just wear an oversized tee shirt and some baggy sweatpants, which was usually cute and endearing in its own way. But tonight, since you assumed you would be spending the night alone, you wore something you thought no one would see you in. And now here you are in the kitchen, the Avatar of Greed stood in front of you, a blushing and stammering mess. The more of his golden eyes took in of you, the more he could feel the greed rise up within him. Every little inch of skin, every little curve of your body has Mammon craving more and more, his avarice knowing no bounds when it comes to you. Typically, in moments like these, the tsundere side of Mammon's brain would kick in, and a flurry of denials would leave his lips before you could even playfully accuse him of anything. Seeing you like this has Mammon forgetting all about those silly habits, his mind focused on wanting only one thing - you.

In this moment, Mammon can't help but succumb to his greed. His hands reach out to pull you into his bare chest, his demon form now on full display and eyes glowing as gold as Grimm. His arms tighten around you in a possessive hold as he buries his face in your hair, your scent as intoxicating to him as the most expensive Demonus on record. You feel his hands roam your body, feeling both his soft skin and his rings' hard metal gliding up and down your back. You melt into his touch, your arms instinctively wrapping around his torso. "I've been lookin' for ya," he mumbles into your hair. Before you can even fathom a response, Mammon's hands find their way under your ass, hoisting you up and setting you on the counter. He leans in and presses his lips to yours with a sense urgency you hadn't seen from the Avatar of Greed previously, his yearning and need for you growing with each kiss. As his tongue brushes your lips, they part and allow him entrance, and the way your two tongues dance with each other sends Mammon over the edge, feeling that same greed start to build within you. Mammon's kisses became hungrier and sloppier the more he could feel his sin in the air, a hint of lust mixing with it as his hands squeeze your ass, your own hands roaming his beautifully brown torso. "Mine," he states simply, as he breaks the kiss momentarily.

He picks you up once again, your legs squeezing his waist as you fling your arms around his neck. He runs off with you to his room to have his way with you - and to hoard you to himself like the Devildom's finest treasure.

It wasn’t at all unusual for Leviathan to stay up all hours of the night. On this night in particular he was counting down the hours until the newest merch drop from his favorite idol group, Sucre Frenzy. He picks up his Bufo Egg Milk Tea to take a sip, only to hear the slurping sound of his cup being empty. Looking at the clock at the bottom right of his monitor, he mentally notes that he still has an hour and a half before the drop, which should be more than enough time to run downstairs and raid the fridge. He presses pause on the song he was listening to on Devilfy, pulling off his headset and making his way out of his bedroom door. He pulls his DDD out of the pocket of his hoodie, swiping it open and pressing on the 'Mononoke Land' app. Checking to see if there were currently any in-game spirits lurking in the House, Levi games as he presses forward towards the kitchen, his own IRL mission falling to the back of his mind as he continued to focus on the side quest on his phone. One hand in his pocket while the other clutches his device, his tail slides along the handrail of the staircase, making sure he doesn't stumble as he tunes out the rest of the world.

He really hopes you can make it to hang out for the drop tonight! When he invited you at dinner you seemed interested, but you told him you weren't sure if you'd be able to stay awake that late or not. He would really love it if you are able to - everything is more enjoyable for the Lord of Shadows when he has his Henry by his side! It makes him excited even thinking about it! Maybe he'll swing by your room on the way back from the kitchen and see if you're awake! Or...that maybe awkward? What if you're asleep and he wakes you up? What if he annoys you? Maybe he'll just send you a text instead. Either way, he loves you more than all of his anime combined, and it would be the highlight of his entire month to spend tonight's event with you.

Refocusing on his game, he turns the corner to cut back towards the kitchen. He doesn't even notice the kitchen light on ahead, nor does he hear the clattering and clanking coming from inside. All he can seem to focus on is Mononoke Land. As he walks past your room, he does a double take, expecting to see you in your bed. On second glance, he notices you missing from your room, and Leviathan couldn't help but be confused as he pauses in your doorway. It's almost one in the morning and you aren't in your room?! Where in the Devildom could you possibly be?! You're probably hanging out with one of his brothers, aren't you?! You're probably in one of their rooms, in one of their beds, doing Dia knows what while he's down here getting some stupid snacks for his stupid merch drop. 'Stupid stupid stupid I'm so stupid! Of COURSE she wouldn't want to waste time her time with a disgusting otaku like me! IT'S NOT FAIR IT'S NOT FUCKING FAIR!!' A wave of envy washes over him so powerful that he fights everything within himself not to summon Lotan and flood the House. His fists clench his DDD, stressing it from the pressure as his knuckles turn white. His eyes blaze a bright orange as jealousy rages within him like a hurricane brewing over the sea.

Wanting nothing more than to barricade himself in his room and never come out, Leviathan angrily marched onward towards the kitchen, determined to get his snacks and get the hell back to his room so he can wallow in his feelings. Hastily making his way through the kitchen's threshold, he doesn't see you as he barrels straight into you, knocking you backwards. Before his mind can fully process what's going on, his tail grabs ahold of you, wrapping around your waist and preventing you from hitting the floor. His eyes finally connect with yours, and he realizes that it's you he has run into. A quick scan of the room tells him you had been in here alone, and suddenly he feels foolish for the jealous tantrum he was throwing in his mind.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry...I didn't see y-you th-" he stammers, now looking down at you to see exactly what you were dressed in. Is this what you normally wear to bed? Levi hadn't ever seen anything like it in real life. The way the fabric highlights all of your best features, putting just the right amount of emphasis on how perfect your curves were...he could have sworn you were drawn by his favorite manga artist. His eyes roamed your body up and down, his face heating up as rapidly as his heart rate is rising. 'OH FUCK, I'm staring aren't I?! She probably hates me, I'm so gross, such a worthless perv, I need to stop staring WHATTHEFUCKDOIDO?!?' he panics internally, his hands starting to tremble. He tilts his head down to focus on the floor, when he finally processes that his tail has been autonomously wrapped around your waist the entire time. "I'M SO SORRY," he half shouts at you, as he starts to unravel his tail.

Suddenly, Levi takes pause, as he hears you gently call out his name, one of your hands resting on his tail while the other reaches out to stroke his cheek. "Levi...whatever you're thinking right now...stop," you reassured him. Before he could hide his face from you, you leaned in to press your lips to his in a soft but loving kiss. At first, Levi just stands there frozen in shock but after a moment he kisses you back. He's still unsure of what to do with himself - he doesn't want to ruin this moment - but he doesn't want it to end either, so he stands with his hands awkwardly at his sides and pours every ounce of love of passion he can into the kiss. While he may not know what to do with his hands, his tail seemed to enjoy exploring your body, causing you to let out a tiny soft moan when it makes its way around the top of your thigh. You wrap your arms around his neck, continuing the kiss as you press your body against his.

After a few more moments, the two of you pull away from each other, both trying to catch your breaths. Before Leviathan could even muster a response, you grab his hand, the sweetest of smiles plastered across your face. "Come on, let's go to your room, Levia-chan. I can think of a few ways for us to kill time until your merch drop launches," you said as you start pulling him towards the door. Suddenly you weren't tired, and Levi didn't care about the snacks - with you, he may even end up forgetting about the merch drop.

Before you had even thought of grabbing a snack from the kitchen, Satan had already made his way down there and was rifling his way through the fridge looking for something suitable to feed his secret kitten friend out in the garden. Earlier in the night, Satan came outside to the garden in order to calm down and let his inner rage subside. He had wanted to spend the remainder of his evening with you curled up in his lap as he reads to you, a warm fire crackling in the fireplace nearby, as the two of you ignore the world for each other and a great plotline - there was no other way he'd rather spend his evening. But of course, his insufferable eldest brother had to stick his prideful nose in where it didn't belong and drag you away, just as he was asking you to join him after dinner. It was almost as if the Avatar of Pride has an extra sense for when Satan wanted alone time with you, always interfering and coming up with some smug excuse as to why you need to be stolen away right when Satan needs you. That pompous ass was always going out of his way to stoke the flames of Satan's wrath on purpose! 'One day he'll get back at that bastard, he'll put him right in his place!'

Satan continued pacing in circles in the garden, his demon form on full display as rage flows through him like an ice river through one of the lower pits of hell. He wasn't doing the best job at calming himself down at first, you not being there to help ground him, so it was taking a bit longer than normal. It was always so much easier to calm himself with you there - just a few simple words or a quick hug usually doing the trick. But for now he was alone, and he was drawing a blank on what he else should do. He completed one more pace around the garden before, before letting out an annoyed huff and sat himself down on the nearest bench. As he was about to pull out his DDD to text you to see where you were, he hears a rustling in the bushes. His emerald eyes scan the area, no signs of life immediately apparently, before he sees a pair of glowing eyes peer out at him from underneath one of the bushes. A small smile tugs at his lips as it dawns on him who the eyes belong to - one of his stray feline friends that likes to wander through every now and then. He pushes himself up off the bench and slowly crosses over towards the cat, holding out his hand as he tries to coax it out of the bush. The cat immediately starts to back into the bush, shaking it's head at Satan, causing him to take pause. He chuckles to himself as he comes to the realization of what she is asking for - the cat wants a treat.

Satan straightens himself up, making his way back into the House to find some cat friendly snacks in the kitchen. When he arrives there, he is alone, and makes a beeline straight for the fridge. It was usually wishful thinking for anyone in the House of Lamentation to try to hide food in the kitchen, but sometimes Satan was able to get away with it for the sake of his kitten buddies. Crouching down to open the bottom drawer, Satan reaches in to pull out some of the Devildom cat treats he had stashed back behind the drawer. Setting the pouch of treats on the counter, he opens up one of the cupboards and pours what is left of the treats onto a saucer, before tossing the empty wrapper in the trash and making his way towards the kitchen door. Little did he expect in all of this, you came walking through the door at the same time, neither of you really paying attention. Before either of you can stop yourselves, you quite literally run into each other, the saucer of meaty cat treats smooshing against Satan's chest and then dropping to the floor. Satan can feel his wrath rising inside him once again, drenching him like an ice cold shower, his aura turning dark as his demon form makes an appearance once again. He hasn't even looked up to see who caused the collision, assuming one of his brothers is to blame yet again, his jaw clenching as his mind races to formulate it's retaliation.

His glowing green eyes finally lift to see exactly who the guilty party is, only for his eyes to meet yours instead. You begin to stammer out a stream of apologies, but seeing you immediately calms the inner turmoil of his mind, the storm suddenly calm within him.

His gazes roams over you for a moment, Satan suddenly finding himself speechless as he takes in exactly how breathtaking you look in such casual attire. The way straps of your tank top accentuate your collar bones, giving way to how the fabric hugs your perfect chest...Satan suddenly couldn't remember what he was mad about in any point in the day. He couldn't even bother to care why he was in the kitchen in the first place. He gently takes one of your hands with both of his, raising it to his lips to press a kiss into your knuckles. A warm smile spreads across his face as his hands find your hips, pulling you closer into him. One of his hands moves to rub the small of your back as the other tilts your chin upwards to him. He holds your gaze for a moment, adoration apparent in his eyes, before he leans in to share a passionate kiss with you.

The moment his lips caress your own, your heartbeat goes through the roof, and you can't help but to lean into him and melt into his touch. His hand on your chin moves to hold the back of your neck, his tongue brushing your bottom lip, asking for more. Your hands find themselves on his chest as your lips back, your tongues clashing together in a desperate bid to feel more of each other. Your hands slide down his chest and abs, lightly tugging at his belt when you get to his waist. He chuckles into the kiss before nipping at your bottom lip with one of his fangs, grabbing your hips with both hands as he slows the pace of the kiss.

Eventually he breaks the kiss, resting his forehead on yours. "You always know how to make me feel better, kitten," he said as you slide your hands up his front and lace them behind his neck. "What do you say we retreat to my room to continue this encounter?" he leans in to steal one more kiss from you lips before taking you by the hand and pulling you up to his room.

· demonvibez ♡ 2023 · do not copy, repost or modify ·

· likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! ♡ ·

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simphornies · 3 months

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A/N: Thanks to some help from a wonderful writer ( @markster666 my new writer bestie ) this story might be longer than I think. Filled with a lot of emotions. I can't wait for you all to see what we've come up with.

Word count: 4.2k (4,240)

part 1, part 3, part 4

Deal Breaker [ Vox x Angel!Reader ] part 2

His second day was filled with the same trust exercises that Vaggie did earlier on. Vox and the other guests were thrown into another turf war once again to fight alongside each other. Alastor decided to join this time around, seeking entertainment in Vox's attempt at the exercise.

Vaggie hoisted Vox up into the air and threw him down the building. You watched over them, making sure that they don't get too injured. Alastor walks next to you, tapping his microphone as he watches Vox get punched in the stomach and saved by Angel Dust.

"Y/N, my dear, do you truly believe that this 'courtship' is real and not some frivolous stunt?" He asks, "I have grown accustomed to your friendship and it'd be a shame if he pulled strings to whisk you away from us and the hotel."

"To be quite frank with you, Alastor, I am not quite sure myself. Rest assured that I shall have my wits up." You put a hand on his shoulder, "I will not fall for meager attempts or tricks."

He hummed, "I rarely share this advice but do stay safe, darling. I will not find entertainment in failure from you. And I would hate to be disappointed in failure."

Though Alastor is...Alastor, you two have formed a bond. With you working to free him from his chains and him providing you with insight on how Hell functions, you became close friends. As sadistic as he is, he truly wished you good fortune.

You hear a scream coming from below and you quickly fly down to the source. Vox got surrounded and a demon managed to land a hit on him, stabbing him through his side. You opened up your wings fully to create distance and whisked him back up, blasting the perpetrators away with light. You gently sat him on the ground, kneeling beside him.

"Vox, where did they get you?" You ask in a hurry, trying to find the source of the bleeding. His side was covered in blood. "Take your shirt off, let me heal you."

"Take my shirt off? You want to see me naked that bad?" He weakly laughed, his screen glitching due to the pain, "And you can heal too? Hah. What can't you do, angel?"

"Now is not the time for jokes. Take your shirt off or I will rip it off of you." Your voice was stern, making him unbutton his shirt. You applied your magic to close off the wound and stop the bleeding. "My powers can only close wounds and stop bleeding. The pain will be there so take it easy."

You stood up, "I think that's enough. Let's all go home." And with a snap of your fingers, you all were transported back to the hotel through a portal.

"Vox is injured. No sudden or rash jerks to him until he's recovered. My magic's sped up the healing so he should be fine tonight. Alastor, no punching the injured please." He squinted at you in disappointment to which Vox flipped him off.

Charlie was apologizing profusely to Vox, offering him every kind of drink or snack that the hotel had. Vaggie drags her away so you can deal with him. You sat next to him at the bar, "A drink?"

"Yeah. That'd be great. Shit hurts like a bitch." He got a glass of rum from Husk and you got the same. Vox looked at you, a little bit in disbelief before smiling. "Thanks for saving my ass, angel."

"Do stop calling me that. But you're welcome." You chug your drink rather quickly, impressing Vox.

"Rum tonight huh? What made you decide to switch it up?"

"Mm. You." You smiled at him before asking Husk for the whole bottle and he gladly handed it to you. You and him clinked your bottles together before you pour it into your glass. Vox caught himself blushing at your response but he quickly wiped it off of his face.

He couldn't think of how to keep the conversation going so he drank in silence. He stared at the ice floating in his drink, messing with it with his claws.

"I have something to discuss with you Vox. In private." You say before getting up, face flushed from the stronger alcohol. "Please, meet me in my room after your drink." You take the bottle with you as you teleport into your room.

Angel elbows him on his good side, "Oooooh~ The angel's tryna fuck." He teased making Vox glitch a bit.

"Fuck! You! Don't jump out like that. Where did you come from?" He groaned before getting up, taking his glass with him. "It's probably business."

He walked up to your room, limping a bit from pain. He knocked on your door and entered as soon as you told him to. You sat at your desk, reading something in front of you.

"I want to discuss something and I sure do hope you consider this. Please, sit." You pointed at the seat across the table.

"Talking business early on? Are you going to agree to the deal?" He grinned mischievously, putting his hand under his chin to prop his head up on the table.

"No. It's about one of our patrons. Angel Dust." You slide a copy of his contract over to Vox, "This is a personal request of mine. I would like his contract, his deal with Valentino, to be terminated."

He was taken aback at your boldness. "Oh shit, okay. Well..." He leaned back, sucking air through his teeth somehow, "Yeah...I'm not sure, angel cakes. Valentino is pretty possessive over who he owns."

"I understand but I am willing to form a deal of some sort with you to get this to happen. Please, give me offers in exchange for this favor." You looked at him pleadingly. After seeing Angel Dust get hit and insulted by Valentino at the bar stirred something in you and you promised to find a way to break his deal.

Vox perks up at this opportunity. "A deal to break another deal?" He laughs, "You don't start small with your offers, do you?" He sat and pondered a bit.

"I'll accept your deal and get Valentino to break the contract on the condition that you make a deal with me."

You noticed his left eye beginning to spiral. Was he trying to hypnotize you? You laugh at the attempt, "Sorry. I'm not laughing at the offer but are you trying to hypnotize me?" His facial expression changes at the realization that he got caught. "That doesn't work on me, unfortunately for you. But what condition are you looking for?"

He retreats his attempt in shame, crossing his arms a bit. "Worth a shot." He huffed, “But I want you to work with me for the same length that you have me here. 3 days. And on top of that I want 3 dates with you. Let’s make a deal with that and I promise you that I’ll try to get Valentino to break his contract.”

You extend your hand out to him and he shakes it, sealing both of your words into a contract. He grins, knowing that he left out what exactly you have to do with him in his company. But a new feeling bubbled within him. The moment he held your hand he felt sparks in his system. He felt himself heating up with such a simple gesture and he couldn’t shake the feeling even hours after it had happened.

Hours had passed after your deal with him and at this point everybody was already fast asleep except for him. He couldn’t forget the way your hand felt in his. He paced around his room anxiously, trying to pinpoint the source of this pit he felt in his chest and stomach. He tried to distract himself with the technology provided in his room but every now and then he’d stare at the hand that held yours. Vox would replay the way you swooped in to take him away from danger and heal you. Your words echoed in his head over and over. Your smile slowly became a goal for him to maintain.

On his third and final day at the hotel, it was a party. Everyone wanted to go to the same bar Angel Dust and Cherri Bomb took the hotel staff to when Charlie was out. Alastor opted out of this because of “proximity reasons” or so he said. It was you, Vox, Husk, and Angel going this time.

You dressed yourself into an outfit that wasn’t the usual “I’m the famous angel that fought for Hell” look. Instead you wore shorts, courtesy of Angel Dust, and a crop top that Cherri gifted you a while ago. You were indecisive on which boots to wear and with Alastor off doing something you probably didn’t want to know about, you called Angel Dust.

He stood in your room as you frantically gathered all the shoes you owned and dropped them in front of the two demons. “I am not one to typically go out but I will absolutely not go out looking a mess. Please help me.” You practically begged. Angel helped you put together your outfit, fixing your hair up into a ponytail. He was proud of how you looked in the end.

The two of you walked to the lobby, chatting and laughing about how you can’t style yourself outside of your comfort zone. Vox stared at you, engulfed in your beauty. He was not used to seeing you outside of your usual attire and he was stunned. He couldn’t pry his eyes off of you and he was convinced it was purely due to your angelic powers. You wore black heels with eyes on the back, a shredded crop top that had a spray painted eye in the middle of it and simple black shorts. It was simple enough for you to be comfortable in but, in Angel’s words, slutty enough for you to blend in without getting immediately recognized as the angel that fought for Hell.

“Your ass looks nice in that, sweet cheeks.” Angel jokes. “I bet you’re gonna get eyes all over you at the club.”

“You flatter too much. It’s just a simple outfit, unworthy of such attention.”

But Vox agreed with him. His eyes wandered all over you. Your waist, your legs, your curves. He devoured the sight of you. It wasn’t until you made eye contact with him that he snapped out of it.

“Apologies! I was unable to settle on what to wear and if Angel hadn’t come to my rescue, I think I would have had to sit this one out.” You hugged Angel, proud of his work.

“What can I say? Sex isn’t all I’m good at.” He laughs.

You created a portal that led to the entrance of the club and the four of you immediately ordered drinks. Angel suggested drinking games and by the end of it, you were wasted. A sight that even Husk had only seen once. Your head was spinning, your vision fuzzy. Husk took another shot away from you, making you pout.

“One more shot!” Your words were slurred, “Please.”

“Absolutely not, you’re going to throw up and I am not cleaning it.” He shook his head and took your shot for you. “Shot’s gone.”

You whined and leaned into Vox’s arm, who was still sober. “Vox~ Can youuuu get me a shot?” You whispered.

Your voice sent shivers down his spine in a way he never expected. He almost caved but decided against it. “No. I think you’re done for tonight.”

You huffed and got off of him to his disappointment. You made your way onto the dance floor and uncharacteristically went all out. You followed what the crowd did and soon enough, they all lost track of you which sent them into a panic.

“Shit, where’s Y/N?” Angel asks.

“I saw her go towards all the dancing but I think she’s deep in the crowd.” Husk stated before running in there to search for you alongside Vox and Angel. Vox felt panic but he didn’t understand why. He didn’t know why he felt it urgent to get you in front of him and secure your safety. He was here to steal you from the hotel but yet he’s working with the staff to look for you. He pushed and shoved until he finally saw you. You were surrounded by three drunk demons with lust-filled eyes that danced on you a bit too sexually for his liking. The moment he saw one of them rub their hand from your hips to your waist, a fiery rage blazed within him. He quickly grabbed your hand, pulling you away from them and out of the crowd. He regrouped with Angel Dust and Husk who called Lucifer to portal them back to the hotel.

You were slumped against a flustered Vox, hugging onto his arm mumbling nonsense even after you all arrived back safely. He sat you down on the couch to which you immediately laid down.

“Wow. I haven’t seen an angel this wasted before.” Lucifer spoke, leaning over you. “Y/N, are you alright?” You giggled in response, not answering with words. “Yeah, I think she needs to go to bed. With lots of water!”

Everyone eyed your savior Vox and he groaned, “Why me?”

Alastor phased from the corner of the bar and next to him, “Because you were the one that wanted to court her. If you truly desire a relationship with someone in our staff, you should be able to take care of them as well as we do.”

Vox rolled his eyes at him, “Yeah well it wasn’t my idea to do a drinking game and get her fucked up knowing she’d lose.” He eyed Angel Dust who threw his hands up in the air, “Hey! I didn’t know her tolerance was shit. She took fifteen shots! Husk and I can handle more than that.”

“They have a point Vox. Please, take care of her for the night while the rest of us. You’re free to skip out on tonight’s activity.” Charlie says, “She likes getting tucked in.”

Vox carried you up to your room. You messed with the edges of his screen, tracing it with your finger. “So smooth.” You said. “Do you clean your screen? Can you stick your tongue out? If you can stick your tongue out, can I stick my hand in there?”

Vox was bombarded with questions but his focus was on your finger as it continuously went up and down the side of his head. He was blushing and flashed a couple of error screens until he finally got you into your room. You stumbled in and grabbed your usual dress. “Y/N, what are you doing?” He asked to which he received no response from you.

You began to take your clothes off sloppily, tripping over your own feet. Vox panicked and turned around. “Y/N! I’m still here, what in the unholy hell are you doing?” Though he was turned around, he shut his eyes for safety measures. He wasn’t one to get flustered at the sight of nakedness especially with Valentino on his team. He was confused why he felt and heard his heart pounding out of his chest.

“Yeah? If you’re here, why don’t you help me?” You whined. “Help me get into my gown.”

Vox turned and saw you on the floor, shorts stuck to your ankles and your top half off. He immediately began to scream and glitch. “Y/N!” was all he could say before he ran out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He yelled down the stairs from the railing, “For fu-ucks sake someone please dress her!” Everyone snapped their heads at Vox who was a glitching mess, “She is half-naked on the floor stuck in her shorts. I ca-cannot do this.”

Vaggie and Charlie ran up to get you into your night own as everyone else laughed at his flustered self.

“Holy shit! The big bad overlord got shy over that!” Angel was on the floor, clutching his stomach, absolutely dying. “What’s wrong? Never seen a naked angel before?”

He covered his face with his hands in shame. “I swear I brought her in there and the moment she was on the floor she started stripping. I turned around and when I looked back she was like that!” He groaned.

“Yeah, forgot to warn ya but…�� Husk drank his bottle before continuing, “Last time she got fucked up like that she started changing in the lobby.”

“What’s wrong, old pal?’ Alastor teased, “Afraid of a little skin?” He laughed, mocking his rival.

“You know what. Fuck you. I’m going to my room to reboot myself. I cannot wait to get the fuck away from you.”

Alastor grinned at his frustrated and flustered self, his shadow doing the same.

You woke up surprisingly with a terrible hangover. You found yourself tucked into bed and in your nightgown. You had no recollection of the night before and the last thing you remembered was taking your 10th shot. After that, everything was gone. You stretched before you started to pack a couple of bags for your stay with Vox.

Charlie came into your room to check in on you, “You’re awake? How are you feeling? And…what are you doing?”

“I made a deal with Vox.” Charlie’s face dropped at the news, worried for you and your safety. “It’s a chance to get Angel Dust free and on the path to redemption. I…I can’t bear to see him come home after a rough night and I can sense his sadness.”

Charlie hugs you, “Be safe, okay? I know you’re strong but please…don’t get hurt.” You smile in return, placing a hand on her rosy cheeks.

“Thank you. I promise. I’ll be safe.”

Vox was waiting at the lobby entrance for you. Alastor was more than glad to get him out and was practically trying to throw him out the door with Angel and Husk watching in delight, munching on some popcorn.

“I’m waiting for Y/N! She’s coming with me!” He protested, dodging his black tendrils.

“She is not going with you.” Alastor hissed, static in his voice, “She would inform me if she would and she has not.”

You heard the commotion from the stairwell and flew down the stairs, using your body to keep distance between the two rivals. “Alastor! I apologize but I am. I have made a deal with Vox.” Vox straightened himself out, a smug smirk on his face. “I…want to get Angel Dust’s deal broken off. He and I have discussed and agreed that I shall stay and work with him for 3 days.”

Alastor squinted at you, reverting back to his regular form. “A deal with him? My…That is the most foolish of decisions you have ever made.” He scoffed, ears pinned to the back of his head. You step closer to him, holding his hand in comfort.

“Alastor, I apologize for not informing you sooner. I shall remain safe. My duty and loyalties remain with the hotel. I have told you before and I shall tell you again, I must work on breaking the deals that harm the staff the most. You, of all people, should understand that.” His eye twitched a bit at the reminder of his own chains but he did understand. He sighs and nods.

“If anything brings harm to you, inform me immediately.” That was Alastor’s way of telling you to stay safe. You smile and give him a hug, whispering a ‘thank you’ to him. He hugs you back before letting you go off with Vox into a portal you had created.

Upon arriving in his lobby, he was immediately greeted by Velvette and Valentino arguing about how Valentino had, yet again, destroyed one of Velvette’s models. Vox groans and looks at you, his face saying ‘See what I have to deal with?’ before approaching them.

“What the fuck’s happened now?” He says, “And please do not rip each other apart in the lobby.”

“This little piss baby ripped apart not one but two models. I have a show tomorrow and I would have been able to work with but he went ahead and ripped apart two unlucky bitches!” Velvette growled.

“That little bitch Angel Dust texted me to fuck off last night! Me!” Valentino screamed, “I will murder that little whore.”

“Enough.” His voice distorted, left eye spiraling before clearing his throat, “That is no way to act in front of our new temporary guest, Y/N.” He held his hands out and pointed at you. “She’s going to be here for three days and I do believe she’d be a good candidate as a model for you, Velvette. Is she not?”

Velvette squinted at you, eyeing you up and down, “Oh I don’t think I’d be a good-”

“Shush. Shut the fuck up for a bit.” Velvette raised a finger at you before swiping with her other hand, quickly switching your outfit. You were now suddenly in a red dress that showed your curves. She hummed and walked around you. “I suppose she could work. Do you know how to work a catwalk, angel?”

“I-” You cleared your throat, “I certainly know how to walk.”

“Not the fucking question. Pop your little wings out and walk in a straight line.” She ordered. You complied, revealing a set of wings before walking forward, “Alright…now turn. On your heel. Quickly.” You pivoted on your heel and walked back towards Velvette.

“You know what…This could work.” Velvette lit up a bit, “Pleasure to finally meet you. I’m the famous Velvette. One of the better Vees.” She shook your hand quickly before going on her phone.

Valentino slid over to your side, leaning down to your height, “Ah…the famous angel that fell from Heaven to fight for Hell.” He gave you a big smile. You had a vendetta against him because of what you know. He takes you hand and spins you before pulling you close, “I’m Valentino. If you ever decide to drop that tacky hotel and make real money. Let me know~ I can make you a star.”

Vox pulled you away from him, noticing your discomfort. You laugh nervously and fiddled with the dress you were now suddenly stuck in. “Thank you kindly for the offer but I am alright. I have no intentions of partaking in…your art.”

Valentino’s smile didn’t falter, “You know how to find me~” He states before walking away. You see him angrily typing away at his phone to probably harass Angel. You let out a sigh, putting away your wings before looking at Vox.

“I know. A handful, right?” He rolled his eyes, “You’ll get used to it.”

He leads you to your room, “This is where you’ll be staying. Don’t worry, I won’t spy on you.” He winked, “Unless you want me to.” You rolled your eyes in response. “Let me know as soon as you’re settled in. I want to go over what we’ll be doing for the next 3 days.”

“Alright. Thank you for your hospitality.” You nod. You were about to turn around to unpack when you felt his hand grab yours. He gave you a gentle kiss on the back of your hand before teleporting off into the nearest camera.

Vox sat in his office with the Vees while you were in your room.

“So what’s the plan here, Vox? Why is the angel in our building?” Velvette asked, a bit on the edge of the fact that someone as strong as you was in close proximity, something she didn’t allow you to see earlier.

“She wants me to break Angel Dust’s contract with Valentino.” He responds. Valentino slammed his fist on the table in anger. “She made a deal that in return for me trying, she’ll be here for 3 days working with us.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Valentino growled. “You can’t make me break that deal. That little whore makes me the most money!”

Vox simply grins menacingly, “I can make this all worth it, Valentino.” A plan brewed in his head. He just had to get you to put your guard down around him.

“And what if this shit doesn’t work and I lose that motherfucker because of your deal?”

“It’ll work. And I’ll find somebody better for you. You have so many whores, Val. Angel Dust is just one whore. He’s already going against you, don’t you want somebody that’s a little weaker? Somebody easier to control? By the end of this, we can have all of Hell to recruit.”

“Who would be better than Angel Dust?”

Velvette rolled her eyes, “Why don’t you try and get that popstar in? Verosika Mayday’s her name.”

Valentino calmed down a bit, “Hmm…If I can get Verosika on board, then I might just consider it.”

“Then we have a deal. I get you Verosika and in return, you break Angel Dust from his contract completely.”

Valentino grins, “Deal.”

“Are you really into this angelic bitch?” Velvette asks, aimlessly scrolling through her phone.

Vox laughs, “Absolutely not! I need her power and after those 3 days, I think I have just the plan to get her on my side.”

#vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #slow burn #angst with a happy ending #or is it angst #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor's your friend #vox being vox #hazbin hotel vees

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the-crimson · 8 months

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I am just - I am in love with the misdirect of Acceptance on Bad’s stream. Going into it we were all wondering if he was gonna accept the marriage proposal, that the eggs were gone for good, the he would take the happy pills… but no.

(About the character not the cc obviously :D)

Bad has been so incredibly restrained his entire life on the qsmp. Even in his moments of pure calculated rage he restrained his cruelty. He jokes about torturing and murdering people but he’s only gone through with it twice and neither were fueled by cruelty but pure practicality.

When torturing Foolish, he just wanted answers and he knew Foolish well enough that it wouldn’t actually effect him long term. When killing ElQuackity, he and Max were not frivolous but wanted to kill him as quickly as possible. It was practical and for the greater good, not personal pleasure.

Bad is cruel. He knows the depths of his cruelty so intimately that it terrifies him. He has to keep himself on such a tight leash that any slip could be devastating and irreversible.

We saw a glimpse of it when Bad blew up Quackity’s temple. The pleasure of seeing someone in pain. The pleasure of hearing the fear in their voice. The high of making someone else feel helpless.

Today, Bad accepted that in order to find his children and nieces/nephews he has to embrace a part of himself he’s been suppressing for so long. He accepted that he’d have to revert to a version of himself that would terrify his children and the other eggs and probably make some of them hate him.

Torturing an innocent - probably indentured - worker for information they would have no way of knowing.

Bad is embracing a part of himself that he had locked away so far down inside him that most people would never imagine he’d be capable of such a thing but as Bad walks erratically through his house, slowly lighting up the room as the worker stands there trapped and terrified. There is a deliberateness to the way he uses soul torches, a weak light source, to slowly light up the room before stepping into darkness again, placing the last torch at his feet to illuminate himself from below. The cold determination in his voice. Still restrained. Still calculated. But oh so much darker and you can feel the cruelty he is about to unleash oozing out of every word as he speaks

“Let’s try again. Where is my son?”

#qsmp #crimson speaks #sorry if this is incoherent #I’m going insane #lol #todays lord has been the biggest feast ever #everyone brought their A game #so good

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unadulteratedsoulsweets · 1 year

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A DC X DP IDEA#10 Their Humanity

Imagine dis…

It is always Talia, Damian, and Ra hiding the fact that either they have another child of Batman that died due to the fight to the death between siblings. It is always either Danny faking or is at the edge of death to escape the League. But what if in this universe it is quite the opposite?

…

It came as a surprise to Talia that she had just given birth to twins, with her Father on her side exclaiming that they were blessed to have the Al Ghul have twin heirs.

The midwife first presented the first newborn as well as the one to come out first. Tan skin as well emerald green eyes and a mop of spiky hair on top of his head are what they saw naming him Damian as the firstborn as well the future Demon Head. Crying and screaming his heart out, Ra deemed him worthy enough of being the heir.

But the moment the two laid their eyes on the second child made them feel that their heart had just beaten.

The second one was not crying just sleeping quietly and peacefully, light skin and blue eyes are what had greeted them, and with bated breath, they look intently at the second born.

With wide eyes, Talia named the child Danyal in the quietest and softest voice she could muster. Her Father, on the other hand, his eyes stayed on his 2nd grandson as something foreign and unknown inside him stirred, something warm that he could not describe the sensation. Carefully reaching out his hand to take a good look at the boy’s face, Talia would have never thought in her life but her maternal instincts are now screaming at her to protect Danyal from her own father if he ever dares to harm the boy which confuses her, as in her entire life there had been not a single moment of such frivolous emotions arise, not even when she seduced Batman for the sake of creating the ultimate heir yet here she was, still weak after literal moments after giving birth add to the fact she felt indifference to her firstborn so what made Danyal special to the point she was ready to fight her Father for Danyal’s safety?

Ra didn’t comment when he saw the rigid form of Talia and continued reaching out to the newborn. Now take note that he had taken multiple bathes using the pits, also it is a well-known fact that babies tend to know things or even read the mood. Babies are also known as the most innocent creatures on this planet aside for toddlers and kids, so when Ra reached towards Danyal he had expected the child to be scared and start crying but his grandson who was merely minutes born did the impossible.

Danyal had reached out, gave the tinniest grip a newborn could do, and giggled as if he already knew that whoever that man is, he just knew that he felt safe just by being around him.

Ra widened his eyes at the action and merely hummed in approval or dismissal Talia never knew.

But that day whether they knew or not the world the of cruelest assassins who wouldn’t bat an eye whether they kill children and newborns for the sake of their cause had just their world had just been shifted towards this newborn.

…

During the early years of both children, the League had changed to something of the past Ra would rather die or even commit seppuku than see the changes in the League.

Ra and Talia both interacted with Danyal, using the milk that was produced from her very own body to nourish Danyal while Damián was in the care of his wet nurses.

Ra would look question at the tiny infant, does this child possess some sort of meta ability that made him likable?

Unlikely, the number of tests that the child had to face to ensure his health reveals no gene or mutation of any sort.

Talia would express a foreign expression to her and those around her every time she interacted with Danyal, every time he smiles, giggled, cooed, and laughs she felt lighter and happy. On the other hand, every time Danyal cries or even has even the lightest traces of being upset she would immediately gets rid of the source.

Ra would very often come to the twin’s chambers to observe Danyal, and every time he would take a brief visit Danyal would immediately stir awake and try to reach out to his grandfather.

Each time Ra would leave with unclear thoughts and mind as he still has that current yet foreign feeling in his chest.

Each time that Ra would leave the chambers Danyal would always steal a small piece of the cold man’s heart.

Until one day those walls that were built using the strongest materials that surround their Icey cold hearts, slowly crumble and melt at the mention of Danyal

New toys, new robes that were made with the finest silks, and gifts that were made for a king were all presented and gifted to Danyal who was barely a month old and barely able to hold his own head on his own.

…

Growing up Damian had noticed the amount of personal attention his younger brother has received through his grandfather and mother. For someone who had done the League’s utilization of basic forms at a young age under the tillage from his personal trainers. Danyal on the other hand was a bit of a slow learner, he was not born to be an assassin a thought that passed his mind.

Damian witnessed the acknowledgment and praise that came from both his grandfather and mother when Danyal had perfected a certain form that he had already perfected a month prior.

At first, Damian is bewildered at the amount of attention and personal gifts that were given to his younger brother.

Is he not the heir of the League? Is he not the first-born grandson of the Demon Head?

At first, he held anger and resentment towards Danyal in his mind he is a competition for the privilege of being trained personally by the two greatest warriors in the League.

Even though he had vocally and physically informed Danyal his displeasure towards him didn’t deter Danyal from him from training with him, fighting alongside him, looking at the stars with him, and creating a bond with him. To the point that Danyal had dragged Damian to a private training session with the attendance of the two people whom Damian had respected.

As he progressed alongside his younger brother, he finally learned why he was cherished and treasured.

Danyal is fresh cool water in the desert sands and scorching sun that surrounds the Nanda Parbat.

That day he swore to protect Danyal from the harms of the world to the point that the majority of his kills are either child rapes, or child abusers in any shape or form as he alongside his grandfather and mother that together they will make a world a better place for Danyal.

…

All but one person held annoyance and offense towards the unofficial prince of the League, Deathstroke, a few months before turns to be a defect to the League, he had originally planned to plant bombs around the base to be blown sky high but all of his plans went to the drain when Danyal Al Ghul had confronted him ad disabled the bombs he spent months to place in places that no one would ever think off.

Deathstroke admit it, he thought that Danyal Al Ghul is nothing but a sheltered spoilt prince but clearly the skills he had shown to Deathstroke to the point he Deathstroke was very impressed at the raw skill and talent this boy held at the mere age of 7 made him almost feel guilty, almost.

Deathstroke is a grown man with 10 years of experience in his belt, he easily overpowered the child after dealing with countless injuries that he had obtained when fighting the child.

Grabbing Danyal by the neck, he ponders what would he do to the child when Ra Al Ghul alongside his daughter and grandson with plenty of assassins behind his back looks enraged at the mere scene before him.

Deathstroke pondered at his predicament he could escape but he needed a distraction, looking down below he saw the glowing green waters of the Lazarus pits.

Letting go of the unconscious child he watched gleefully under his mask as he watched the unaltered horror etched on each Al Ghul's faces as they watch Danyal fall towards the pits.

…

It will be fine Ra assured himself, with his little side project of Jason Todd, he raised the teen from the dead using the pits, he had also used the pits to ensure his longevity.

But when Danyal hadn’t reached out to the edges of the pool he began to think the unimaginable.

Damian his first grandson at the very edges of the pits looking for any signs of his brother, Talia barking orders to the rest of the assassins to look for the prince.

Minutes turned into hours as Danyal hadn’t reached the surface.

That day something inside of all of them died as anger, resentment, grief, and depression at the mere fact that Danyal Al Ghul is no longer with them.

…

Danny had always known that he wasn’t the son of Jack and Maddie Fenton, he knew that the Lazarus pits had somehow transported him to an alternate dimension, those nightmares that his “sister” and “parents” used to tell him that was only a figment of imagination were his memories, using the skills he had learned he searched for any whispers of the league or even his father but so far his search led him to an unknown dimension.

Clinging to only the memories he had to ground him, to remember himself that they are waiting for him.

Pretending to have amnesia and acting to be a scared little boy who was abandoned in the forest was easier as of now he needed to make a new identity. On the papers, he was named Daniel Fenton, a shy and quiet young boy who was found in the middle of the forest suffering from multiple injuries, hypothermia, and amnesia.

The only reason he had picked the Fenton’s as his fosters is due to the fact that they have an advanced and unrestricted vault of weapons as well their studies are well aligned at the Lazarus pits.

Pretending to be a meek boy who was bullied by a larger child, who was best friends with two of the natural outcasts in the population as well sabotaging his own grades in order to remain unseen or normal.

Dying at the age of 10 was not even part of the plan, he had read that children who are about to enter their teen years are doing something childish or even stupid. Nor becoming alive once again or even becoming a vigilante like his father, even getting attached to his supposed friends as well as sister to the point he would rather die for the second time than see them hurt.

When he became the crowned prince of the Infinite Realms, he had ordered all of the ghosts and rogues to stay in the Realms as it was getting dangerous for all ghosts as the GIW and the Fenton’s have not only doubled their efforts as well became more brutal in terms of handling ghosts.

At the age of 13 there we see Danny running toward the Infinite Realms all bloody and injured. Jack and Maddie had found out and they were in the middle of dissecting him when his two best friends and the woman whom he is proud to call his sister all to burst into a hidden GIW location which is where he is being held and practically all of them prepared to lay their lives for him. All three of them not only rescued him but also destroyed all research and weapons they possibly have about the Infinite Realms.

As he was trying to create a portal a natural portal randomly opened in front of him, leaving no choice he immediately jumped.

…

It had been 6 years since Danyal had died, during this time the previous 10-year-old Damian Al Ghul was introduced and stayed with his father who was Batman in Gotham.

Ra Al Ghul had been revived secretly and started to rebuild the League. Talia had finally captured Slade and finally slit the man’s throat after hours of continuous torture.

Ra along with Talia was looking somberly at the pits as this was the final resting place of Danyal, as it has been years since the pits had taken and had not returned the body of Danyal.

Suddenly the pits started to glow brighter and brighter unable to stand the brightness both Ra and Talia covered their eyes. The moment they take a moment to discern what made the pits reacts like that, a loud splash was heard around the cave.

Talia just needed a second to see who dared to use the pits to suddenly see herself swimming to retrieve what had just disturbed the pits.

The moment she reached the shores she didn’t dare to wish for, there she is, cradling a 13-year-old bloodied and injured version of Danyal.

Disbelief is written on the faces of the Al Ghul’s, Ra didn’t want to be taken advantage of and immediately requested a DNA test that came back positive.

Relief and happiness flowed like air to the two Al Ghuls.

Thus, the journey of healing and family.

…

It has been months since Damian had started to act differently Bruce thought.

His 13-year-old son started to go out more in the guise of spending time with his siblings, but when the said siblings denied ever spending time with Damian made him worry. According to the parenting books he had found online, teens especially Damian’s age tend to be more rebellious to find the place where they belong.

This prompted them to follow him when he had requested to have a week out of town with a “sibling”, Batman along with Nightwing, Red Hood, and Red Robin is following Damian in his civilian clothing to an expensive hotel and resort surrounded by the desert sun.

As they were going around inside the said resort and hotel, they saw Ra and Talia Al Ghul which made them immediately on the defensive as they start to wonder over the comms what could the hotel or this resort has that warranted the attention of the two deadly assassins.

As they hide in the shadows, they saw a child collide with Ra, they were almost afraid of what Ra would have done but what Ra have done made them drop their respective jaws.

Ra just smiled, SMILED, the assassin that even Batman has trouble defeating as well as holding the title of the cruelest assassin in the world, smiled, and hugged the child.

Looking closely, they swore they saw a mini Bruce in that teen. Blue eyes with a mop of black hair that rests on top of the teen's head.

Another clone? Was an immediate conclusion up until they saw Talia approach the pair with a soft smile, as the child ran up to Talia screaming mother.

Damian who entered alongside Talia, didn’t seem to bother by the supposed clone, the Batfam knew his deep hatred towards clones, so when Damian just looked at the teen with soft eyes made them fear the worse.

Damian was being blackmailed by the League or else their new brother might just suffer the consequence of refusing.

Batman was distraught about another child that has hidden from him and was right now being held against his will, Red Hood exclaimed that he was sure he saw the Demons spawn with blue eyes not green.

Now they fight about who has the rightful custody of Danyal Al Ghul Wayne.

…

PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so don’t forget to tag me though.

#dp #dc #dc x dp prompt #dc x dp #batman #Danny Phantom #damian al ghul

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etoilehistoire · 6 months

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Thinking about how mammals, including humans (and presumably elves and whatnot) are endothermic. We make our own heat, via the processes that keep us alive, and move that heat through our bodies via blood pumped by a beating heart. Blankets and other insulators work, not because they're inherently warm, hut because they trap our own warmth and don't let it dissipate.

Thinking about how vampires, as - essentially - walking corpses, are exothermic. They don't have any internal processes that create heat, they don't have a beating heart to distribute it. Blankets and clothing might feel nice against the skin, but they don't keep them warm because there's no heat to trap. Any warmth has to come from something outside themselves - drinking living blood (and oh, that adds yet another layer of nastiness to the idea of Cazador giving his spawn already-dead animals to drink), or a source of warmth like a fire. But unlike real-life exothermic animals, because they're animated by magic and not biology a lack of warmth won’t kill them or make them sluggish. They don't need warmth to survive. So a vampire could conceivably just be cold, with no respite, for years or decades or centuries. It wouldn’t feel good, it might even hurt, but in a survival situation the comfort of warmth is a frivolous luxury that can be done without.

Thinking about Astarion finally being able to rediscover that luxury, to indulge in it.

First, of course: sunlight. Imagine him basking in the light and heat like a lizard, like a snake on a desert rock, drinking it into his skin until he's warm to the touch. (The Floridian in me almost said 'like a gator on a log' but I doubt he'd like that comparison!)

And then: blood. Whether taken in the heat of battle or offered in the night, imagine him finally experiencing the feeling, the novelty, of warmth spreading through his body from the inside.

Cuddling! Feeling the heat of another body flush against his, curling up into it. A thick blanket over them, catching and keeping his lover's warmth and wrapping him in it, waking up on a chilly morning to find himself unaccustomedly warm and comfortable for the first time in 200 years.

Hot baths. You cannot tell me this man does not pay extra for a bath at every inn, and then spend far too long in the tub. He claims it's because of vanity and that's not UNtrue, but also just. Hot water covering every inch of him, ah gods, it's bliss.

I truly believe we'll find this man a way to walk in the sun again after the game ends but until we do, my god can we get him a sauna? Find a natural hot spring? Something? Let him be warm, dammit!

(I'm working on a new fic that features some cuddling, and the idea of warmth came up and then my brain started working overtime on the concept)

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #baldurs gate astarion #etoilewritesmeta #vampire physiology #warm that boy up

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peacexatxlast · 1 year

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Thomas Shelby; For a Good Cause a/n: After geeking to a dear friend about the slutty Brummie ganster... I had this idea. Shoutout to @jvstsaywhen for helping sort out my messy thoughts and giving me a good laugh in the process. You are an angel for dealing with my dramaticize.... ah.... however it's spelled ;) I hope you enjoy this chaos... Er... that's all... <3 plot: Tommy is in a mood and snaps at Frances. His wife does not approve... Warnings: Smuttttt, swearing, terrible plot and messy structure Word count: 3,098

There were days where Tommy would traipse around the house with docile ignorance to time. When life was in his command and the very March of the clock seemed to tick, tick, tick to his orders. ‘On the up’ he used to say, having his ducks lined in a neat row to be sent out and executed accordingly. Everyone enjoyed Tommy in this state, finding his company to be much more approachable and welcoming than the latter when hell seemed to burn in his stare.

His wife thoroughly enjoyed his good moods, praising his tactical brilliance all the while as he would share his plans to expand the ever increasing wealth of Shelby Company Limited. He liked strategies, and when one was perfectly flowing by his bullet points, it gave him time to relax into her touch and devote attention to her. God, she loved when the world revolved around Thomas Shelby and bowed to his will accordingly.

That day… was not one of those times.

The house was torn into a hurricane. Thomas didn’t walk nor traipse, stuck in his office since dawn. No, he simmered, brooded, boiled. Whatever familial, political or business related issue he was stewing over, she thought better than to interrupt or disturb him. His sharp tongue and quick wit was only favorable when the dark cloud above his head wasn’t there striking lightning and crackling a roar of thunder. He was intolerable when he was struck under these moods, and so she busied herself that day on the other side of the house and ignored altogether his office.

That is, until she caught word through the walls of the house of an episode involving their dear, loyal head maid and her moody, tempered husband. He’d snapped at her! Two younger maids were gossiping in the corridor, the woman of the house’s steps light and airy as she descended into the madness. She was not one to play into the whispers and traveling gossip, never sure how much truth was seeded through the game of telephone. However, the news she’d captured was not all that unbelievable. In fact, she believed every single word of it.

Even so, she went straight to the source, confronting the maid about her husband’s behavior. She came on behalf of Frances, in favor of the woman, and she made that very clear as she approached her. “I have overheard Thomas has said something to upset you, Frances…Please, before you try to defend him, I am coming to get the truth so I can proceed and make sure this is dealt with properly…. No, Frances, his behavior is not alright! ….No matter what tantrum he has conjured within himself, he is not to unload it upon you! ……I assure you, this will be handled immediately. …..Take the evening off, I insist. As well as the other maids. I will be sure he eats something…” Yeah, a stale loaf and murky bath water… The lengthy exchange had come to an end with permission to relax and recover from Thomas’ short temper. She sincerely apologized on his behalf, embracing the older woman fondly. She had been a constant in the midst of the ever changing staff who were scared off by the Shelby man.

The woman stopped short of the office door, glaring daggers into the polished oak as she debated entering inside and ripping into him. Her better judgment stalled her fantasy, knowing the outcome of such frivolous escapades. Thomas, much like an impetuous child being reprimanded, did not respond well to arguing and the rise of her voice. Yelling and screaming would only fuel coal into his burning fire. She did not wish to stoke this outrage but to smother it in water and cut off its supply of oxygen before it further burned anyone in the household. Had he kept his mood to himself, she wouldn’t have even bothered to address it. He lost that privilege the moment he spoke against Frances. Now, he must be scolded…. But craftily.

Other alternatives were needed besides yelling. As his wife of sometime now, she had learned how to best escalate these outbursts: by meeting him in the middle… Of his body that is, speaking through his cock- on his cock- while his mind was clouded by pleasure and would adhere to anything and everything she said. Men were really, truly simple-minded creatures at the end of the day… and the sun had just begun to descend from the sky.

She popped back up into their bedroom and slipped into something a little more uncomfortable for the evening. Adorned in a silk slip with sheer lingerie hidden beneath, she padded downstairs after a few spritz of perfume and a light toss of her hair on her shoulders. The clothing she wore was not for her benefit but his, remembering a comment he had made about how he so adored her in such apparel. As a good, devoted wife would, she remembered these things to spark erotica into his heart when the mood fancied her more than him. She’d never been turned away blatantly, but sometimes it took a retreating reprieve to lick her wounds and come back with vengeance, looking good enough to eat. And eat he would.

Out of respect, she knocked. Time ticked by, moments stretching into a minute before she heard, ‘Come’. It was gruff and calloused, her eyes narrowing as she pushed the door open, adjusting the tie at her waist. It was late enough in the evening to assume she would be in such attire, batting eyelashes to clear the glare from her gaze as she sought his form out.

Stress cloaked the shadows of his face, earning a soft hum from her lips as she followed the maze of chairs and coffee table to appear before him. “I know you’re busy, so I will keep it short and sweet.” She purred decadently, a sultry glance offered in jest as she removed the silk from her body to be devoured by the glaring gaze of her husband. He was upset to be interrupted, jaw tightening further at the new material offered to gaze at. Whether or not he enjoyed this view was beyond her, but she bathed in the heat of his stare nonetheless. Her name fell across her lips, either in plea or warning… Again, she was unsure of the origin, but it didn’t matter. She pursued on with her mission, rounding the desk. He leaned back in the throne of his palace, a good sign she noted. She was not above fucking on paperwork like a needy whore she often was; however, the wise woman was attempting to make his life a little less irritating. Wrinkled papers and soiled cardstock would only upset him further, so she began neatly piling the mess onto the side with enough room for her to be splayed out in front of him later however he saw fit.

The undergarments she wore left little to the imagination, swaying her hips in a tantalizing manner while she worked. Her ass, one of her better features in her opinion, was perfectly on display in front of him covered in pale blue. Straightening, she turned to address him once more. He hadn’t spoken, a sharp glare slicing into her. “I can see the ungreased gears grinding in your mind, Thomas. You’re running off of smoke and fumes, and you’re reasoning and decision making will suffer for it. So,” A grin slipped over her lips, dropping to her knees with a look of need so saturated in exaggeration it was almost too satire to believe… Either way, he didn’t seem to notice or care, head cocked in interest. Jesus, he looked divine, the burdens of the world resting atop his shoulders working for him. And that damned waistcoat… His sleeves rolled in the sluttiest of ways to his elbows. She melted, biting her lip. “Let me help you clear your… head…” Teeth tugged her bottom lip into her mouth, pushing her palms onto his thighs as she rolled between his legs. Her head tilted, seeking his lips for a kiss. It was ultimately his choice to agree, eyes fluttered at half mast with a beckoning gaze.

Adrenaline coursed through her veins as his lips brushed hers, reaching further to seal their agreement in a kiss. He was so fucking easy to draw in, lips quirking into a smug grin as his hand wrapped around her throat with a delicate squeeze. Pressed further into his palm, she extended her vulnerability towards him. Even in his worst of mood, she trusted him wholly with her life. He would never allow harm to come to her, either by another’s or his own hand. That much she could count on.

The unholy darkened gaze of lust pooling in his icy stare was enough to drench her thighs in arousal, mouth watering and nearly forgetting her reason for this visit. It was so easy to be trapped in the riptide of his attention, treading dangerous waters as if she were in the shallows. She wanted to drown in his affection, tightening fingers around his thighs, scratching at the fabric which was now proving to be an annoying barrier. She had come prepared for this, the least he could do was catch up!

“How do you want me, Mr. Shelby?” She whispered against her hungry embrace, nipping at his bottom lip while trailing her palm up his thigh and towards his groin. There was no doubt in her mind of his hardening state, only solidifying what she knew to be true while stroking his growing arousal. “How can I help you relax, sir?” Fingers twitched around her throat, pulling a low groan from her lips, tilting her head back eagerly. “Bent over my desk, Mrs. Shelby. First piece of business crossing it that I’ve enjoyed working on.” The gravel in his voice was thrown down at his feet, collecting at her knees where she hurriedly moved to obey his command. Her heart pattered on incessantly in her chest, wiggling from her underwear; the fabric pooled at her feet in a soft flutter, kicked aside as rough hands found the new expanse of flesh.

Her wiggling in search of something to grind against earned her behind a quick slap. She yelped, more out of surprise than anything. It hardly hurt, the blushing print of his hand fading as quickly as it had come… much to her disappointment, but the thrill of his reprimand remained, stepping aside to flaunt his goods for him. It all belonged to him anyways, something he was all too aware of given his patience…

“Please, Tommy…” She whined, shuddering delightfully as his fingers traced the inner flesh of her parted thigh. He strayed from where the subtle ache began to grow, needy and impatient for the relief that only he could offer. She arched in such a way to find the edge of the desk brushing teasingly against her swelling bundle of nerves. A moan caught in her throat, hissing softly at the sharp pain receding into pleasure. It wasn’t enough to satiate her, and if anything it only brought a renewed rush of desperation to settle in her belly.

He chuckled, kneading the flesh of her thigh with one hand while the other handled the buttons of his trousers. “Thought this was for my stress relief, hm? Looks like you’re in need of a reliever as well.” His words unnerved her, eyes rolling backwards with a shiver rolling under her spine. Remember the mission… Right…

“You’ve not touched me in more than a week, Thomas. Do forgive your wife for seeking out your affection once in a while, ey?” She bit playfully, reaping the reward of her snarky attitude as Thomas adorned another smack to her ass. In the process of recovering from the delicious prick of pain stinging her flesh, he introduced her to a new sensation of minor discomfort: one she never truly grew accustomed to no matter how prepared she was. The head of his cock pushed past slick folds and buried himself within her cunt in a single thrust. A hot moan burbled from her lips, unbridled need spilling unabashed in the presence of her creator and destroyer. With one word he could build her higher than the tallest mountain or steepest building, and the slightest brush of his hand could have her crumpling harder to the floor than the burning of Rome.

“Then it’s all too overdue, isn’t it?” He rasped, finding the natural handle to grip of her curved hip, recoiling back and striking fast. Even despite his girth and size, she would always adjust, but in the initial moment of penetration she relished the twinge of pain brimming with tension as it dissolved deliciously into pleasure. Part of the reason for dismissing the maids for the evening was her inability to withhold the melodic chorus of praises falling from her mouth, blessing the gods for creating such a man to ravish her so thoroughly. It’d become a rule to not withhold her sounds of enjoyment from him, and she made no effort to do so at that moment as he decided on a pace that best suited his mood then: brutal.

With a pace that would surely bring a bruising hand print from how tightly he held her, pulling back and snapping his hips back just as quickly, she smoothed her hands against the top of the desk towards the edge where she curled her fingers to give hold to something. It was all the stability she had, the balls of her feet lifting from the floor while he moved her where he wanted, how he wanted, and when. Her nails clawed into the pine or oak or whatever the hell he wanted his damned desk to be, sure to have ruined a perfectly good manicure, but for a good cause. The color could easily be reapplied at a later date, then focusing on keeping her footing as she was propped on her tippy toes. She trusted him further to not let her fall into a mess onto the floor, and he ever so kindly secured her faith with a hand snaking into her scalp and pulling. A choked moan fell from her lips, taking every inch of his borderline abusive thrusts. She was greedy for his attention, hungrily devouring every gruff grunt and groan that parted his scowl. “I want to see you, Tommy… please.” She murmured, rolling with what little power she had to match his relentless pace. Three times he slammed into her again, relinquishing enough to spin and toss her body onto the desk like a rag doll. Desire hooded her gaze, reaching blindly to grasp at his shoulders and pull him in for a heated kiss. Masterfully, he maneuvered himself once more between her thighs, drawing a shared sigh of relief from them both. She would have thanked him if she could form a coherent fucking thought then, too busy clawing and grasping at his clothes to shed them. The waistcoat, his shirt, exposing every layer until his chest was bared before her.

Her lips attacked him with as much abandon as he fucked her, spreading her legs further, tucking them appropriately around his waist to latch onto him. His breath was hot against her neck, teeth sinking into her pulse point while she lay siege to his back with an assault of her nails.

“Thomas, fuck, right there!” Over and over again he drilled the head of his erection in the most calculated way to curl her toes and see stars beneath her eyelids. She whimpered softly, the guilt brushing over her intense pleasure that it prolonged her release. Agitated, she clung tighter to him, begging for more of him: harder, faster, deeper. Thomas was all too kind to comply, filling the office room with her sweet, sweet cries paired with the harmony of skin meeting skin. Pressure built within his abdomen, muscles tightening, flexing, burning for release. The tell of his impending orgasm came in the subtle loss of his rhythm, arm snaking around her waist for support as he chased after the high. His needy behavior pulled her father into the swarming heat boiling within her stomach, whining for his attention, demanding he satiate her needs as well. She didn’t have to ask twice, finding relief in the flick of his thumb over the slick of her bundled nerves, circling her button with relative ease; it seemed as though he hardly had to put effort into causing her downfall.

“Oh, fucking- Tommy, fuck me, please… Fill me, love,” Her sweet coax was his own demolition, cresting the mountain and quickly crashing down in a crescendo of blurring release. She held her orgasm until he came, coming undone in the very capable hands of her husband with breathless cries of his name which would disperse evenly throughout the room and haunt him later while he attempted to finish his letters. Good. She would reduce herself to nothing more than his panting, begging whore if it meant he would return regularly to their marital bed.

The moment directly after an orgasm was possibly her favorite. Silence enveloped them safely in an embrace, sweat coated bodies relaxing into one another while they panted into one another’s mouth for oxygen. No words were needed in exchange, holding onto him for a moment longer before allowing him to part from her and collect his composure. A breathless giggle, blissed to heaven and back in the warm delusion post orgasm. “You will apologize to Frances for the harsh comment you made to her earlier.” She breathed, her tone soft but sincere, rounded with an authority she only carried when necessary. As he tucked himself within his trousers, he nodded curtly, shifting his glance to her suspiciously. A smile graced her lips, waiting for him to hand her undergarments to her like a gentleman should, accepting them with a soft ‘thank you’.

“This is how you relieve built up tension, not snapping at your staff in undeserved anguish. Especially Frances. I’m your wife; I’m made to take it.” she slipped from the desk, wrapping the robe around her body once more. Her hand threaded through his scalp comfortingly, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Try not to spend all night working. I will be in bed when you decide to join me. Goodnight, Mr. Shelby.”

The faintest quirk of a smile met his lips, pecking her lips before she escaped him. “Goodnight, my love.”

#tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x wife!reader #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy smut #champagne writes; thomas shelby

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femininenachos · 1 year

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I’ve Got News For You

(Or the 80s rival TV newscasters AU no one asked for…)

It’s 1987, and Lexa Woods is a serious, austere news anchor, always delivering the news with smooth, measured gravitas. Nicknamed “the perfumed menace” she’s renowned for being a tough and exacting interviewer, a household name with the plaudits to back it up. Meanwhile, Clarke Griffin is a plucky reporter on the ground with a megawatt smile and disarming manner, who’s carved a niche for herself with frivolous, crowd-pleasing fluff pieces and lighthearted human-interest/animal segments. Lexa doesn’t hide her disdain for the rival outlet’s content and tone, yet it consistently beats her own channel in the ratings, to her supreme annoyance.

So she’s furious and indignant when station manager Indra tells her they’re poaching Clarke from their competitor.

“I won a Peabody for my coverage of the opioid crisis in Mount Weather!”

Lexa’s rant gathers steam.

“We’re a respected news source. This,” she gestures at the freeze frame of Clarke reporting from a feline beauty pageant, “is not news.”

Lexa stabs a finger in the air, oblivious to Indra’s subtle eye roll.

“I won’t stand here and watch my reputation for high-minded broadcast journalism be washed down the drain. I’ll walk.”

She also learns they plan to bring in a male anchorman, some eye candy for the housewives. The focus groups find Lexa too severe and haughty.

“I’m the anchor. No one reads the news but me.”

“Well,” Indra tells her firmly. “Things have to change or there won’t be a show to anchor. Would you prefer they take us off the air entirely and replace us with compilations of idiotic home video mishaps? They’re cheap and everybody loves them.” (The “unlike you” goes unsaid). “I’ve heard grumblings from the board.”

Lexa stares, aghast at the notion.

It takes a lot of placating to calm her down, vague promises of a primetime special on a hard-hitting topic of her choosing.

When she’s introduced to Clarke the following week, Lexa is frosty, aloof, giving the cold shoulder. Later that day, they butt heads during a pitch meeting. Lexa dismisses Clarke’s ideas, leaving her fuming, and everyone else stepping on eggshells.

Record scratch cut to Lexa’s dressing room...

Clarke kisses her hard, nipping sharply at Lexa’s bottom lip, an undercurrent of rebuke in her voice when she tells Lexa, “You could dial it down a notch, you know? For someone who wants to get under my skirt, you could stand to be a lot nicer.”

Lexa soothes Clarke by trailing kisses along her jaw to that spot behind her ear that makes her knees buckle slightly. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

She sucks a kiss at the top of Clarke’s neck. The pressure light, not enough to leave a mark, conscious of how that might reflect poorly on Clarke, professionally speaking. Half the station already thinks she’s a ditzy airhead (a false impression that Lexa did nothing to discourage, she acknowledges to herself with a tiny stab of guilt), and a visible hickey would only provide more fodder for snide gossip.

“Anya was in the room and I overcompensated. She’s too savvy not to be suspicious of me suddenly singing your praises.”

“Oh, yeah?” Clarke hoists an eyebrow as she leans back, out of range of Lexa’s roving mouth. “Been trash talking me to your producer?”

Lexa‘s throat bobs. “I… might have expressed some strong reservations about the new editorial direction.” For some reason her mouth keeps moving and words, the wrong ones, keep spilling forth, as though she isn’t actually someone who’s built a storied career on being an excellent communicator. “I’m just not convinced by the pivot from hard news to a magazine format, or that our two styles will successfully mesh.”

Her heart plummets as Clarke pulls away and starts to tuck in her blouse. “Well, you definitely won’t be meshing with me now.”

“Clarke, wait. Come on, can’t we talk—”

“No. You’re such an ass, Lexa. Beautiful, sexy beyond belief, but an ass all the same.” Clarke strides across the room, ignoring Lexa’s pleas, and lays her hand on the doorknob. Pauses to look over her shoulder, not fully able to mask the hurt and betrayal in her expression. “Let’s just do one another a favour and stay out of each other’s way, alright? And a word of warning: don’t try to get me fired. I will lawyer up and sue this station into oblivion.”

“I—”

Lexa stares at the empty doorway, bewildered at how a sizzling secret makeout session went so far off the rails so quickly, and left wondering how she can possibly repair the damage.

#clexaweek23 #Clexaweek23 day 6 #day 6 workplace romance #clexa moodboard #clexa #clexa au

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kydrogendragon · 5 months

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Dec 10 - Silver and Gold

(Ao3 Link)

The gold earrings on display shone like the early morning sun. The red ruby nestled in the center called to Morpheus from across the way as Hob and he had made their way through the local shopping mall. They were originally on the search for gifts for Hob’s friends and colleagues. He had spotted these as they had passed the storefront and refused to leave Morpheus’s mind.

They had gotten a few shops ahead before Hob was pulled into a lengthy conversation with a group of his coworkers. Morpheus had politely ducked out, claiming he had to use the restroom only to sneak his way into the jeweler’s shop.

The earrings were magnificent up close. They were light in his palms. The ruby wasn’t a real one, apparently, but a gem made to look close to a ruby. It was close enough to the naked eye. Two small black gems lined the base of the rectangular earrings and made Morpheus smile. They were Morpheus’s colors, after all, even if he had no right to claim the title of Dream of the Endless. The ruby had been his dreamstone. Daniel wore the Emerald now, after all, and preferred creams and whites for his palette, whereas Morpheus had always leaned towards blacks and darker colors.

He did not have his own source of funds, not yet, but he did have a card - a credit card, Hob had explained - that would allow him access to some of Hob’s own funds. He was to start work at their local library at the start of the next year and would be able to pay Hob back for this purchase. Morpheus was tempted to wait, but the uncertainty that this specific pair would be here come that time swayed him otherwise.

Morpheus held the earrings in his hand and made his way to the counter, only to stop in his tracks. There, towards the back corner, a male and female torso made of fabric and stuffing and metal stood displaying a matching set of chains that had Morpheus’s mouth parting in awe. A complementary pair of silver and gold chain harnesses draped across the fabric chests in a tantalizing fashion.

A silver band circles low on the mannequin’s neck with dozens of long, trailing chains falling down the length of the torso, wrapping around the sides and place where hips would be, ascending up the length of the back to the other side of the main silver band. Morpheus steps near, reaching a hand out to trace down the lines of cool metal. He swallows, images flash in his mind. Him, lying against the silky sheets in Hob’s bed, the black contrasts his pale skin decorated in lines of glittering silver.

His eyes dart to the jewelry’s golden mate and nigh salivates at the thought of Hob’s tan skin adorned with the thicker metal. Study golden chains wind together in a similar fashion to the silver. A looser golden band still encircles the neck, but the loops of chains trail over the shoulders and a subsection trails down the chest and back like a clasped cape. The lines would frame Hob’s pectorals and shoulders in the most lovely of fashions, Morpheus is certain of this.

Morpheus closes his eyes and takes a steadying breath. He should not think this way. The earrings are a stretch enough as is. To wish to lay claim to Hob, to wish to mark him as his in such a way is already too far. There is no guarantee that Hob would accept his suit as is. He cannot indulge in buying such frivolous things with no certainty that they would be used, after all. It would be foolish and a waste of Hob’s money. And where would he hide such items in the meantime? Hob would surely question his purchase. Hiding things would only cause a divide between them. No. Morpheus should not. He could not. He would simply purchase the earrings for they are easily concealed in the pocket of his jacket and all would be well.

Morpheus buys the set.

It is Christmas Eve. Morpheus stands in front of the full length mirror in his separate bedroom, just across the hall from Hob’s. The silver chains drape down his form in a way that reminds him of the elaborate garb he’d wear at times back when he was Endless. He trails a hand down his chest, his breath hitching at the press of cool metal into his still sensitive skin. In a way, it felt like armor. It shielded his naked form, his desires and attractions behind threads of silver. Sliding on his shirt over the harness, he smiled. Even unseen, Morpheus could not deny the effect it had on his mind. He felt more confident, even if it was artificially so. Perhaps he might even work up the courage to give Hob the earrings he wrapped.

They had gotten closer over these past few weeks. He was not oblivious to Hob’s gentle touches and how much more frequent they’ve gotten. He is also not blind to the lingering stares he’s received from him from across the room. Morpheus is, at least mildly certain, that there’s a chance Hob would return his affections and desires. But, as Morpheus well knew, what one dreams of does not always mean it is what one wants.

Taking hold of the wrapped gift, he places it gently in the pocket of jeans and pads into the living room.

Morpheus gripped the top of the couch for dear life as Hob, kneeling at his feet, worked his jeans down his legs. He sighed as the pleasantly warm air of their flat hit his bare skin. The rough pads of Hob’s fingers trailed down his pale flesh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Morpheus looked down and felt his heart flutter.

Hob’s eyes were dark and wide as his hands explored the expanse of his skin, now scattered with dark coarse hairs that had finally started taking root. He shuttered as Hob’s hands brushed against the hair’s natural flow, producing the slightest tugging sensation. It was a new feeling and Morpheus was unprepared.

Leaning forward, Hob pressed his warm lips against his thigh, mouthing at the soft flesh. He moved up and up, kissing his way closer and closer to the ever growing aching heat of his own cock. Morpheus hissed as Hob licked up his clothed length. Hob smirked, his eyes catching Morpheus’s own. Finally, Hob’s hands reached up, his fingers curling over the band of his underclothes.

“This okay?” he asked, eyes searching Morpheus’s face.

Morpheus leaned down, hands moving from the couch to the sides of Hob’s face. He pulls him forward, catching Hob’s mouth on his own. He feasts at his lips, the urgency of lust and desire overtaking him. He tasted sweeter than ambrosia, more addictive than the touch of Delirium. He wanted. He wanted more than he ever had. Hob moaned into his mouth and Morpheus took advantage. His tongue swiped forward, caressing the soft skin of his upper palette. He felt as Hob’s own pressed against the underside of his tongue. Morpheus trusted his hips forwards.

Hob chucked, sending a shiver down Morpheus’s spine at the vibration. They parted, panting against each other. Hob’s hot breath against his face made him smile. The humanity, the reality of it all was tipping towards overwhelming. For eons, Morpheus had been a creature firmly rooted in the land of the unreal and ever-changing. Even at his most solid and tangible, all that he was could never be contained in such a small vessel. As such, the carnality of the flesh was never one he could truly experience. Not in the way that he can now.

“I take it that’s a quite enthusiastic yes, then?” Hob laughs against his cheek. Morpheus’s eyes flutter close. Oh. Oh, wasn’t that just music to hear. The swirl of want, the heat pooling in his gut mixed with the butterflies taking flight in his stomach and the light in his chest. Laughter, in a moment so intimate. He had never experienced such before.

Was this love? Love as humanity experiences it?

“Yes,” he whispers, unsure if he could speak much louder with how throughout Hob Gadling has managed to steal away his breath.

Hob’s eyes soften as he pulls back just far enough to nuzzle his nose against Morpheus’s own. A kiss, so gentle and soft, a stark contrast to the heat and passion just moments before, is pressed against his lips. Morpheus can feel his heart clench as the tenderness.

“To the bedroom, then?” Hob mumbles against his lips. “I want to take my time with you. If you’ll let me.” Morpheus nods. With a smile, Hob takes Morpheus’s hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze as he leads them down the hallway.

Hob pauses at the end, his head looking between the two closed doors. “Um,” he says, turning back to Morpheus. He quirks a brow. Surely… surely Hob was not having second thoughts? “Should… uh, mine or yours?” He waggles a finger between the two rooms and Morpheus can’t help but huff with laughter.

Pulling Hob close, he kisses him. “Yours… ours, perhaps,” He whispers, leaning back to gauge Hob’s reaction. “If… If that would be what you would like?”

Hob’s eyes shine. The soft overhead light quite literally casting a golden glow in his now watery gaze. He reaches out, tan hands cupping the side of Morpheus’s face. He presses into the warmth. “Always,” Hob says, voice soft. “Whatever you want, whatever you’ll give me, I’ll always want it. Always want you.”

Morpheus grabs a fist full of fabric and yanks him close, their chests pressed against each other as Morpheus all but devours him. He trails his lips down, kissing along Hob’s jaw and down the open expanse of skin at his neck. Morpheus paused, sucking and biting at the soft flesh just at the junction of his collarbone, earning him a shaky gasp.

“I will not let you go, Hob Gadling.” Morpheus growls into his skin. “I am greedy and will demand all of you. This has not changed. You must know this before we continue.”

Hob chuckles. “Oh love, if you think that’s going to turn me away from you, you must not know me.”

Love.

Morpheus manages to reach around and open the closed door to Hob’s- No. To their room. He walks Hob backwards, their limbs and lips tangled against each other. The backs of Hob’s knees hit the side of the bed and Morpheus follows him down onto the soft mattress. He feels as Hob’s large hands cup his hips, thumbs nudging under his shirt, rucking up the fabric. Morpheus smirks as Hob’s breath hitches.

“Dove, what am I feeling?” Hob’s voice is rough as he stares up at Morpheus with something near awe in his eyes. Shifting to straddle Hob’s hips properly, he leans up, staring Hob down as he lifts the edge of his shirt up. Silver glints in the low light of their bedroom and Hob keens. He reaches out, hesitantly drifting over the silver chains that flowed over his figure.

“Does it please you?” Morpheus asks, trying his best to hide the wobble in his voice. He knows, given Hob’s reaction, it does. But this is all new territory for them, after all.

Hob leans up, one hand behind him to stabilize, the other pulls Morpheus closer. He rests his forehead on Morpheus’s. “It’s wonderful, Morpheus.” Hob trails his hand down the side of his face and down to his chest, resting on the slight bump that the chains underneath create. “I’d love to see more, if you’ll let me.”

Slowly, wanting to see the desire in Hob’s eyes grow, Morpheus slips his shirt over his head, revealing the silver chained harness he had picked up weeks earlier. He luxuriates in the darting of Hob’s eyes and the whimpers that escape his lips.

“God’s Wounds, love,” Hob manages, his fingers curling around the delicate strings, following their circular path around Morpheus’s torso. “When did you get this? Where did you get this?” Hob’s eyes dart up to his. “And just how long have you been planning on seducing me like this?” He adds with a chuckle.

Morpheus purses his lips, looking down as Hob gives a gentle tug at the circular chain that rounds his neck. He leans into it, with a slight sigh. “At the mall, when you were too preoccupied with your fellow professors. I-” He hesitates, his mind flashing to the matching box that rests in his nightstand drawer. “I have one, for you as well. If… if you would like.”

Hob’s grip tightens as he bucks into Morpheus’s weight. Groaning, Hob says, “Get it.”

Not without a few desperate kisses, Morpheus manages to untangle himself and make it back to his room, his old room, now, and quickly swipes the box from the drawer. He lifts the lid, smiling at the thicker gold chains that lie inside, before padding back to their bedroom.

Hob’s since stripped himself of his remaining vestments and has taken position lounging across the bed on his back. One hand rests behind his head, the other rests tantalizingly close to his erect cock. Morpheus can’t help but notice the moment he enters the room, now clad only in his undergarments and the silver chains, Hob’s prick jumps in interest.

“Christ, you’re a sight,” Hob sighs, sitting up. His eyes find the box in Morpheus’s hand and he smiles. “That one mine, then?”

Nodding, Morpheus makes his way to the edge of the bed and sits. He plucks the decorative gold harness from the box and lifts it for Hob’s inspection. Tan hands take it, rubbing the cool, smooth metal under his fingers.

“Put it on me?” Hob asks, shifting to sit closer to Morpheus.

He nods and crawls his way to sit behind Hob on his knees. He lifts the mass of gold chains, turning it around to orient it properly, before placing it over Hob’s head and down onto his shoulders. Morpheus guides the chains to lay flat, his fingers dancing along Hob’s warm skin until every piece is in place. Turning around, Hob meets Morpheus’s eye, smiling.

“Well, how do I look?”

He looked ethereal. Gold and finery was made to rest upon Hob’s skin. The chains hugged his shoulders, drawing one’s eye to the lines of muscles and strength he has honed over his many centuries of life. He looked worthy of capture in statues of old. He should be painted, this image forever immortalized, so all would know the beauty and glory of Hob Gadling.

“I would burn your clothes and dispose of any other garments so that you would only wear this. Your body was meant to be worshiped and seen, decorated in such riches, and I intend to lay my offerings and prayers upon your flesh.”

Hob’s face flushed a most lovely red. “Jesus wept, Morpheus.” He pulls him in, mouths meeting in an uncoordinated fashion. “I need you. Now. Please, Morpheus.” He whispered against his lips.

With a growl, Morpheus pushes Hob back against the bed, the soft, downy duvet hugging Hob’s edges. He crawls over his body, leaning down, letting the two colored chains graze and shift on one another. The gentle shifting sounds of metal on metal mixed in with the sighs and whimpers of Hob’s voice as Morpheus worked kisses along the length of his body.

Morpheus kissed and sucked along every inch of skin that rested between the golden chains, savoring the sweet noises Hob produced. The thick patches of hair, Morpheus found as he worked his mouth across his chest, clung onto the sweat and scent of Hob. It was delectable. Morpheus found himself moaning as he lapped up the natural taste of his lover. The course hairs brushed against his face, caressing his lips. It was as if every piece of Hob’s body reached for his touch. It was a heady thought.

“Please, Morpheus,” Hob begged, hands wandering across any bit of Morpheus’s body they could reach. Fingers wove themselves through the thin chains, pulling, rubbing, sliding.

“Patience, my lover. Patience.” He said, lips hovering just over his navel now. Hob groans, hips thrusting forward, searching for any sort of friction, any touch. Morpheus just chuckled, pressing his tongue into the hole of Hob’s belly. Hob’s breath hitched.

Continuing his exploration, Morpheus sucks and bites as the soft flesh of his stomach, working purple bruises into the skin. He glanced up, smiling as the discoloration had already begun showing around Hob’s neck and chest. Hob was his. He would not allow him to go unmarked as such from now on. Not after learning how beautifully Hob sings from his touch.

The tip of Hob’s cock presses against the edge of Morpheus’s jaw as he works one more mark into the edge of Hob’s hip. Hob cries out, rocking his hips forward against the sensation. Hob’s scent was stronger here. It was quickly dissolving any self-control Morpheus possessed. With another growl, Morpheus lifts his head, moving down to hover just above Hob’s leaking prick.

Hob’s eyes meet his. Tears have formed, some having already trailed over his cheeks. He was panting and red. Sweat clung to his brow and hair. He looked absolutely debauched. He was perfect.

Giving no warning, Morpheus ducked his head and took Hob into his mouth. Hob cried, canting his hips up, seeking more of the wet warmth of Morpheus’s throat. Morpheus grips Hob’s hips, pushing him flat into the mattress. He flicks his tongue across the slit, savoring the salty taste of pre that had dribbled out. Morpheus’s eyes fluttered close and he slowly worked more of Hob’s length into his mouth. His cock was hot and heavy against his tongue. It stretched his lips and jaw. What Hob lacked (not that he was truly lacking) in length, he more than made up for his girth. He was nearly impossibly thick and Morpheus couldn’t help but grind his own straining cock into the mattress at the thought of Hob pressing into him, splitting him open.

“Fuck, Morpheus!” Hob cries, his hands finding hold in Morpheus’s inky black hair. Morpheus moans, the noise vibrating through Hob’s length, as he bobs up and down, slowly easing more and more of him inside. This body had not taken a cock into it in any fashion, but the notion was not a foreign one. Many dreams covered such activities in detail. And he, himself, had enjoyed such positions, both taking and receiving. But here, now, with the heat and sweat and spit, with the humanity and animalistic desire of it all, Morpheus was woefully unprepared for how much he wanted.

Before Morpheus realized it, his nose was pressed against the curly hairs around the base of Hob’s cock. His jaw was aching and the tip of Hob’s length was pressing into the back of his throat, threatening to gag him, but he still pushed forward, nuzzling against the soft skin. Hob tugs his hair, pushing him impossibly closer with a grunt. It stirs something in him. Heat pools into his gut rapidly and he pushes his hips against the mattress again.

He whines as Hob releases his grip and guides Morpheus’s mouth off of him. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to pull. You okay?” He asks, his eyes narrowed in concern. Anger, of all things, is the first emotion that hits Morpheus, followed closely by a wave of affection.

“I am unharmed,” he says, voice hoarse. “But I believe I would quite like you to do that again.”

Hob’s brows rise. “Oh?”

Morpheus nods.

Chuckling, Hob smirks and leans back against the bed. “I can do that, then. Tap me twice if it’s too much or you need me to stop, okay?”

Morpheus nods and lowers himself back down, taking Hob back into his mouth. The weight on his tongue and the stretch of his lips felt good. It calmed something in him as he worked back down his length. He sighs as Hob’s hands find their way into his hair and gives it a testing pull. That flood of warmth returns as he bobs earnestly. Slowly, the grip in his hair tightens and Morpheus feels as Hob guides his movements, controlling the speed and depth as which Morpheus takes Hob in.

He grinds into the bed. His cock is aching and he can feel the wetness from where the top of the head is straining against the fabric. He feels light, almost floaty, as Hob works him up and down his length, chasing his own pleasure. The grip on Hob’s hip lightens as he goes lax, mind focusing on the stretch and the weight and the glide. He feels so full and so light and so wonderfully perfect. He was made to be here, lying between Hob Gadling’s legs for his pleasure. Morpheus barely processes the jolt of his own orgasm when Hob thrusts once more, hard, into his mouth, slamming Morpheus’s nose against his pelvic bone.

Warmth floods Morpheus’s throat. Hob’s spend coats him from inside. It’s perfect. He strokes the underside of his cock with his tongue, coaxing out every last drop for Morpheus’s consumption. Hob’s hands have gone lax, his thumb gently stroking the sides of his head. Slowly, ever so slowly, Hob sighs and lifts Morpheus’s head up. His softening cock falls from his lips, leaving a trail of spend and spit down his chin. Morpheus’s mind still feels floaty, but it doesn’t matter when Hob’s hands are holding his face between them and he can still taste Hob on his tongue.

“C’mere,” Hob mumbles, pulling Morpheus up close. His limbs are wobbly, but he manages to heave himself, with Hob’s help, up against his chest. He’s vaguely aware of Hob’s lips against his forehead. “So good, so good for me. Fuck, that was amazing,” he mumbles against his skin. Morpheus wraps his arms around Hob’s center and nuzzles closer.

“Good?” Morpheus says, voice low.

“Extremely good,” Hob sighs, content. “Just gimme a mo to recover, then I’ll make sure to return the favor.” Morpheus feels one of Hob’s hands trail down his side and rest on the band of his underwear. “Can’t leave you hanging, not after that mind-blowing orgasm you’d given me.”

Morpheus flushes as his mind begins to process the sticky feeling against the skin of his softened cock. “I… I do not believe that will be necessary.” He mumbles.

“None of that, now. I still want to get my mouth of you, after all. It’s no trouble.”

“No, I… I do not think that that is… needed. I have-I…”

Hob tilts his head forward to get a better look at Morpheus’s reddened face. His eyes flow down his body, stopping at the glaringly obvious large wet mark, and smirks. The floaty feeling Morpheus had had began to fade rapidly as Hob nuzzles into the top of his head, laughing.

“My dick really that good?”

Morpheus huddles in further, hoping if he gets close enough, he may just disappear inside Hob or the bed.

“Cockiness is unflattering, Hob Gadling.”

Hob just laughs harder, but pulls Morpheus close to him. He shifts, turning on his side to better tangle their legs together.

“You love me for it, though.”

“Mm. Perhaps.” Morpheus peaks his head out from where it had been nearly crushed in Hob’s armpit. Hob’s eyes are twinkling with delight and mirth. Hob was not wrong. He did love him for it.

“We’re definitely keeping these,” Hob says, running a finger over the silver metal. “If it gets me such an enthusiastic blow job, especially.”

Morpheus huffs, but tilts his chest into Hob’s touch. “I have no complaints to such.”

“Good. We’ll just have to make sure you last long enough for me to return the favor.”

Morpheus grabs the pillow to his right and smacks it into Hob’s head.

#dreamling #hob gadling #dream of the endless #ky writes #the sandman #december writing list #kydrogen's december drabbles 2023

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prophetic-hijinks · 1 year

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Things I learned about Colombian Christmas holiday traditions

1) They start the festivities On December 7, on a day called the Day of the little candles. Families take to the streets to light hundreds of little candles which are meant to light the Way of the Virgin Mary as she comes to bless their home. People will often construct lanterns to place in their windows.

2) Nine days leading up to Christmas they get together for the ‘Novenas’. Where families gather to recite an old Christmas prayer. It is also a good excuse to eat, drink and be merry. Christmas Day proper is often used to relax and recover from the frivolities.

3) Aguinaldos are fun little games played by children and adults during the Christmas period. One is called tres pies, where you try to sneak a foot between the legs of your opponent without them noticing. Another is si o no, where you can’t say either yes or no.

Another game, @bitsy83 brought to me attention is adorable called Beso Robado, This is a couples’ game. Each of you try to steal a kiss from the other. If your partner kisses you back you should, ”Mis Aguinaldos” and you earn a point.

4) Santa is not really a thing in Colombia, mostly just there for the aesthetic. Instead, children open presents on Christmas Eve delivered by the baby Jesus himself!

5) lastly, December 28th is the Day of the innocents. (So named for the biblical story where King Herod ordered the killing of all newborn boys in Bethlehem). But it has turned into a celebration of childhood, Where people pull pranks, play practical jokes and generally try to amuse each other. This also happens to be Camilo’ birthday!

Are there any other Colombian traditions you know of?

Source

#encanto #Colombian traditions

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perhaps-in-anotherdream · 11 months

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[CN] Victor’s R&S: Between Silence (Eng Translation)

“Every choice he makes inevitably leads to the right path.”

⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a R&S, 无声之间, that is yet to be released on the global server. ⌚

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

[Subbed Video: Fully Voiced]

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This R&S accompanies Victor’s S2 CH 41-44 karma.

Victor’s dialogue’s will be in bold and italics, and the others’ dialogues will be only in bold.

【Chapter 1】

The events of the first three chapters took place when Victor was around 22-23 years old. They elaborate on the beginning of Victor and Ronan’s friendship.

A small recap for those unaware: Ronan is one of Victor’s closest friends. He was a young director looking for opportunities to start his career, and young Victor was just building up LFG back then. After proper evaluation, Victor invested in Ronan’s project. Ronan’s project later won several international awards, and with that, the still learning to walk LFG also got its first base for spreading its wings. Ronan later became a world-renowned director (the CANNES winner apparently), LFG became “LFG,” and Victor became “Victor.”

Ronan appeared in Victor’s Taste of Life MQ, Garden Date, and 5th Birthday Story, and was mentioned by Victor in the R&S Finally, We Meet Again. Victor and MC also discuss “Ronan x Victor” friendship in the S2 CH 41-44 call~

—

Victor’s gaze was indifferently fixed on the only source of light in the dimly lit study room–– the movie playing on the computer screen. His face was partly illuminated by the flickering light, and he seemed a little lost in thoughts.

A few days ago, when Victor returned from a business trip to a neighboring city, he was stopped by a young man as soon as he stepped out of the taxi. He enthusiastically helped Victor retrieve his luggage from the trunk and immediately began “confronting” him in a familiar manner as if they had already known each other for a long time.

“CEO Victor, your company is not that large. Why do you still use an appointment system? It seems frivolous.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Victor bowed slightly and took the suitcase back into his hands, not intending to pay much attention to the stranger’s rudeness. Although it hadn’t yet been three years since LFG was founded, it had already gained a reputation for its sharp and cutting-edge investment strategy. This visitor was not the first young person to show up uninvited.

“Moreover, I couldn’t find any way to book an appointment online. So I had no other option but to wait here patiently. It’s been five days already, but luckily, I finally managed to secure an appointment.”

Victor’s gaze toward him was crystal clear, indicating, “Let’s talk business.” But the young man seemed to be oblivious to the implied meaning.

“Ah… I understand. There must always be sales promoters swarming at your door, and that’s why you guys have this regulation, right?”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

The space between Victor’s eyebrows knitted into a frown,

“Your behavior has served as a good example of the necessity of this regulation.”

Seeing that Victor was about to leave, the young man blocked his path with a grin on his face,

“Sorry about that. I tend to think in a scattered manner. Please don’t take offense, CEO Victor.”

Following this, he extended his hand toward Victor,

“Let me formally introduce myself. My name is Ronan, and I’m a film director. I have a feature-length movie script that I’ve been polishing for a long time, and I hope that LFG can invest in producing the film.”

Victor didn’t lift his gaze and simply dropped one word in a concise manner,

“Reason.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Although I don’t understand business, LFG is different from other companies. They have already shown their ambition to venture into other industries even in their early stages, which aligns with my aspirations.”

Victor detected a hint of arrogance in Ronan’s words that seemed to come from nowhere, and his brows furrowed slightly,

“What I’m asking is, why should LFG invest?”

Seeing the youth frozen in place, Victor walked around him and continued on toward the company. However, he had only taken a few steps when he suddenly heard a voice calling out to him from behind, “Wait a minute!” The young man ran up to him again, rummaged through his belongings, and finally handed a hard disk to Victor,

“My answer is in there.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

The hard disk contained nearly 20 short film works that Ronan had shot previously as practice pieces.

As the end credits of the last short film were displayed on the screen, a flicker of keen interest emerged on Victor’s previously impassive face. The short films, though, had some roughness and immaturity, but they couldn’t overshadow the unique talent of the creator. He got up and walked to the window, pulling open the heavy curtains. The gentle morning light filtered through the gauzy curtains and poured into the study. It turned out that without even realizing it, he had actually stayed up all night watching those clips.

Victor took out his phone and dialed a number,

“Prepare a report on the development of the film industry in the past five years.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

In the afternoon of that day, an investment decision meeting was held in the conference room of LFG.

“Although there haven’t been any mistakes in CEO Victor’s decisions so far, the profits of the high-speed railway industry have only just begun to show. Given LFG’s current circumstances, it won’t be appropriate to hastily jump into a new industry.”

“A film production cycle is time-consuming, and even aside from the question of whether or not the investment will be profitable, it will take a long time for the money to flow back in. With LFG’s current financial situation, we likely won’t be able to afford this gamble.”

“While the policies may have become more favorable recently, it would still be unwise to stake our all in the investment of a single movie.”

….

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

This investment decision was seeing the most unified opposition since LFG was founded. However, everything that was happening now was well within Victor’s expectations. After listening to all the opposing views, he responded to everyone’s concerns with perfect composure.

“Currently, there is indeed not sufficient data to support this investment decision. The sole convincing factor is that every investment decision made by LFG in the past has yielded good returns. And I believe that this time will be no exception, although the process may be relatively long.”

“Aside from the budget sheet displayed on the big screen, I’ve already asked Goldman to send the script of this project and the director’s past works to everyone’s email. Perhaps the works will be more persuasive than my empty talk.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Rather than whether or not this movie will bring financial gains to LFG, I’d rather see LFG seize the right opportunity to set foot in the film industry. The film industry will soon enter a period of rapid development, and by grasping the current opportunity, LFG can establish a mutually beneficial relationship with the entire industry.”

Victor’s tone was unhurried and measured. But as it fell into the ears of the investors, it was akin to an indisputable judgment.

A few days later, the investment resolution for Ronan’s film project was approved by LFG.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 2】

Ronan’s first movie stirred a small sensation after its release, and after gaining recognition from many industry veterans, he grew rapidly at a breakneck pace. With the constant flow of inspiration, he created two more films in quick succession, while LFG continued to firmly occupy the top spot as the producer of his films since the beginning. When he was almost wrapping up the shooting for his third film, Victor received multiple invitations from Ronan to visit the set under the guise of “guiding the work.”

A faint sense of misgiving arose in Victor’s heart. Although Ronan had an unconventional personal style, as a director, he had always maintained enough professionalism and aesthetic sense and would not be swayed by the opinions of the investors. At that time, he happened to be on a business trip near the filming location and drove to the set on the outskirts of the city.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

However, he wasn’t expecting to be greeted with the sight of Ronan exploding on the props team as soon as he stepped onto the set.

“The precondition of all you guys’ work here is to respect the film! Respect the audience! Your small mistake has directly caused five scenes to be re-shot, not to mention going over budget. Now the entire crew is spending extra time and effort to mend your error!”

Signs of anger loomed on Ronan’s face as if he was trying his best to restrain himself from smashing the script in his hand onto the other person’s head.

The Ronan in front of him was a far cry from the unconventional and unruly image he had in his memory, causing Victor to inevitably be a little flabbergasted. He stood there waiting on the side for quite a while until Ronan came rushing over.

“Ahh... sorry for making you wait! Would you like to have something to drink?”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Water.”

Ronan wiped off his sweat and took Victor to the RV, where the director’s crew took a break. However, upon opening the freezer cabinet, nothing else was inside except cans of beer packed to the brim.

“Will this do?”

“...I drove here.”

As if oblivious to Victor’s speechless expression, Ronan put the beer back into the freezer and sat down opposite him in a carefree manner, gesturing animatedly with his hands.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

“I had originally calculated the exact time and wanted you to witness the grand finale. But you also saw the situation just now. Things don’t always go according to the plans.”

“How do you plan to handle this situation?”

“We have no choice but to reshoot. But don’t worry, I’ll ensure we do it in the most cost-effective method possible. Rest assured, it won’t go over budget.”

Ronan shrugged his shoulders in feigned nonchalance, but Victor’s keen perception picked up on the subtle traces of putting on an act in his tone.

“If the method you’re talking about is to film it all in one take using a long shot, then I suggest you ask for a budget increase from me.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Hearing Victor’s words, Ronan was a bit taken aback and stared with widened eyes,

“Have you been taking film courses? How do you even know about cost-effective filming methods?”

“How much budget do you need for the reshoot?”

Seeing Victor’s serious expression, Ronan cupped his fist in the other hand, an expression of gratitude written across his whole face,

“About 3 million yuan. Thank you so much in advance, CEO Victor. You are the godparent of this film! I’ll definitely put your name at the top of the director’s acknowledgments!”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Victor remained stone-faced in the face of his teasing:

“No need. You may have misunderstood. For me, achieving the expected goal takes precedence over everything. Economizing the cost is only a small number, but compromising the quality of the film would affect the expected return on investment.”

Probably aiming to appease Victor’s concerns, Ronan gave him his sincere assurance,

“Don‘t worry. I won’t be careless with any of the shots.”

Not receiving a response from Victor, he took a brief pause and jokingly said,

“Hehe, do I need to win a major international award for you to have faith in me?”

Victor didn’t continue that conversation and left with the parting remark, “Make sure to not just talk the talk. Let me see your capability with the finished project.” But Ronan knew that Victor had faith in him.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Victor was just about to start the car when he heard a knock on the car’s right window. He turned to the source of the sound and saw Ronan outside the car, panting heavily, holding a bottle of water as if he had just run a great distance to reach him.

“Thanks.”

Victor took the water after opening the window,

“By the way, your acting skills are really poor. It’s best if you just stick to being a director.”

Despite being called out, Ronan remained unperturbed and smiled instead, resting his hand on the window frame,

“I’ve been dedicated to being a director all along. Earlier, when I mentioned winning an award, I was dead serious. So if that day ever comes, how about treating me to a drink at a bar, CEO Victor?”

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 3】

The film that Ronan had placed great expectations upon encountered a strong setback in the local theaters even before receiving the results of its entry into the international film festival. Due to the mismanagement in scheduling by the theaters, the film was forced to release earlier than planned. The marketing and promotion team was caught off guard, having no time to prepare, and many people were unaware that it had already been released. As a result, the film suffered from poor box office performance and received a lackluster public reception, which was not surprising considering the circumstances.

The following day, Victor was reviewing the box office prediction trend chart as he prepared in advance for LFG’s next weekly investment meeting. After the weekend drew its curtain, the film’s already disappointing performance experienced a sudden and drastic decline, reminiscent of a fall from the cliff. It seemed that the film’s box office failure had become inevitable. Recalling Ronan’s spirited demeanor when talking about his aspiration for the film winning awards, Victor decided to go and watch the movie to experience it firsthand.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Due to a scarce number of screenings, Victor could only manage to buy a ticket for a late-night show. By the time he walked out of the theater, it was already dawn, and he found himself to be the sole audience member in the entire screening in the empty cinema hall without the sight of any other viewers. Coincidentally, as Victor entered the elevator, the projectionist in charge of the screening happened to be getting off work and shared the elevator with him.

“Ah, the movie has a high level of artistic quality. It’s the best one he has directed yet. It’s a pity that it’s not commercial enough to make money.”

In response to the projectionist’s remark, Victor nodded politely and replied:

“Mm, it’s indeed remarkable. As for whether it’s a pity or not, each film has its track suitable for only itself.”

With a “ding” sound, the brief conversation came to an end as the elevator doors opened.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Just as he stepped out of the elevator, Victor’s phone in his pocket vibrated. He received an MMS from Ronan, containing a screenshot of an email confirming his film’s selection for the CANNES Film Festival. The message was accompanied by a grinning face emoji.

Just as Victor’s “congratulations” message was successfully sent, Ronan couldn’t contain his excitement and immediately called him,

“Reporters are all waiting in line to interview me. But I wanted to call you first. Isn’t that very thoughtful of me?”

Without waiting for Victor to respond, Ronan carried on excitedly,

“I’m actually booking my plane ticket right now. After the film festival wraps up, it’d be the perfect opportunity to reward myself with a long vacation! I’m planning to visit Île Saint-Honorat near Cannes. Ahh, the sunshine! The beach! The sea! I already can’t wait to melt away in the Mediterranean sea breeze!”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

His irrepressible excitement flowed from the rising inflection of his voice.

“If I remember correctly, that e-mail was just to notify you that you’ve been nominated.”

“Being nominated is the first step to actually winning the award. When I get back, you better be ready to take out for a drink. I’m gonna need at least a whole case of beer.”

Ronan continued in a dissatisfied tone before Victor could respond,

“Come on? You’ve invested millions in me, yet it’s so difficult for you to treat me to a simple drink? Forget it, I’ll just…”

“Sure, we can have a drink. But since I’m the one treating, I’ll choose where we go.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

After hanging up the phone, Victor found several new emails expressing their interest in collaboration in his inbox, all from astute film and TV companies.

“It seems that tomorrow’s investment meeting will go smoothly,”-- Victor thought to himself. Although he didn’t hesitate when making the decision initially, he could not help but feel a sense of joy as the dust settled and everything fell in the right direction in the end.

As these thoughts circled his mind, Victor walked towards the vending machine outside the movie theater. He inserted a few coins, and moments later, a chilled can of beer dropped from the dispensing slot.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 4】

Chapters 4 & 5 of the R&S cover the events between S2 CH 38-39. It begins with the scene after he had replaced the twelve main gods of BS, and the ending scene of the R&S, yes, is the “Stop time for me, Victor” scene of S2 CH 39 after clearing all split routes; the most crucial junction~

—

The waning moon sinks into the dense clouds, and the night sky is bathed in a blurred, pale luminescence.

The comet remains suspended midair, framing the entire Loveland City in a treacherous and enchanting ambiance. The city has lapsed into a state of deathly stillness.

In the depths of the BS Hall, the cascading dark red curtains appear eerie and terrifying under the reflection of the thick, dark night. The central seat in the hall remains unoccupied. Numerous figures stand scattered throughout the hall, engaged in discussions. The sound of conversation fills the air, giving the impression that the main gods seem to be working intensely. Despite so, there’s an underlying current of restlessness and turmoil in the air.

As Victor descends the stairs, his composed footsteps draw the attention of the crowd, causing their gazes to converge on him in unison.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Victor walks towards Poseidon and asks,

“How is the progress?”

“We haven’t been able to reach Helios yet.”

Victor’s gaze sweeps across the faint golden arc of light beneath the hall’s dome. A thin layer of frost seems to settle on his face as he says,

“I hope I don’t have to emphasize once again how tight the time is.”

Poseidon nods and exits the hall. Another tall, short-haired youth swiftly walks up to Victor and says,

“BOSS, multiple calculations have consistently proven that our estimated countdown time is indeed relatively accurate, with an error margin that can be kept within 2 minutes.”

“It’s not enough. It needs to be precise down to the second.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Understood.”

The young man nimbly turns around and returns to the side of the woman wearing glasses. In front of them, a massive depiction of the development history of civilizations on Earth is displayed. Each key milestone of the birth and extinction of civilizations is illuminated, shining brightly. The two people close their eyes, and countless lines weave through the points of light. They interconnect in an orderly and systematic pattern, and gradually, numerical values representing units of time emerge on the line segments.

As the main gods return to their tasks, everything appears to be the same as it was earlier. However, with Victor’s presence, the restlessness that was lingering in the air before has unknowingly melted away, vanishing into thin air.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

The mechanical sound of a violin suddenly resounds, piercingly echoing throughout the hall. Standing by the door is an unexpected guest. Victor looks up and, upon recognizing the visitor’s face, dismisses the twelve main gods, leaving only the two of them in the spacious hall.

“Zero, I believe we’ve made our point very clear already.”

The other party seems oblivious to the implied urgency in the words and remains unperturbed as he says,

“We have observed new omens appearing along the world-lines.”

Victor raises his eyebrows, indicating for him to go on.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

“There might be different potential futures for this world. It remains uncertain which path the new future will follow, and perhaps it could be even worse than the current situation.”

Victor’s eyes are filled with indifference as he responds,

“Time is precious. You can just state your purpose in coming directly.”

Zero pauses and looks straight into Victor’s eyes, speaking slowly,

“The SpaceTime Bureau welcomes powers formidable enough to confront and observe the unknown. Therefore, my invitation to you still stands. You and I both know that venturing into the unknown is not the optimal option.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Whether an option is the best has never been the basis for my decision-making. For me, the one and only valid prerequisite is whether or not I desire to make that choice.”

Victor speaks in an indifferent tone, yet every word carries the confidence of having victory within his grasp,

“And once I make a choice, I will ensure it becomes the most correct one.”

Zero chooses not to persuade any further, and as he departs, the gates of BS close behind him. Even though Victor has never had any regrets about his decisions, he cannot, however, escape the realization that even the right choice sometimes comes with an unbearable price. For instance, there is one such image that remains etched into his memory and which he still refuses to recall to this very day––

The utility room of the cruise ship. The bewilderment and perplexity in her gaze as she looked at him.

[Tidbits]: Reference to [S2 CH 31]

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Even if her forgetting him had lasted for only a brief moment, the shock it brought to Victor’s heart might outlast even the longevity of his own life.

The sound of bells chiming outside the building reaches Victor’s ears and brings him back to reality, jolting him out of his tangled thoughts. He walks towards the window and pushes open the heavy panes, allowing the chilly wind to fill his nostrils. Gradually, he regains his composure.

He takes a deep breath and directs his gaze toward the bell tower of the church. The hoarse tolling of the bells startles a flock of crows into sudden flight. They circle above the church for a while, adding another layer of desolation to this already lifeless city. The church spire blends into the profound darkness of the night. The entire city seems to be silently awaiting the arrival of doomsday.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

But in the next second, from a distance, Victor spots a familiar figure breaking through the night, running towards his location vigorously.

The darkness of the night intensifies, and a cluster of blazing flames has already flared into existence in the silent void.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 5】

Victor is not surprised by the scene unfolding before him, and a small smile forms at the corner of his lips.

The church bells continue reverberating, but by the time the sound travels to Victor’s ears, it carries a much brisker tone.

Unbeknownst to him, a gauzy layer of starlight has cascaded upon the church’s stained glass windows at some point. The soft halo of pale light gently dances, casting swirling and elusive shadows that can be seen even with eyes closed.

✄┈��┈┈┈┈

The running girl closes the distance more and more, with her long hair casually flowing down in loose waves, drawing a beautiful arc in the air. Despite there still being a considerable distance between them, Victor feels as though he can see the girl’s face clearly. He is certain that her eyes now are sparkling with a resolute glimmer, powerful enough to pierce through the darkness of the night. With this thought, a wave of fervent sensation surges up from deep within his heart.

Suddenly, Victor feels as if he has been blessed.

It’s not about whether every decision he makes ultimately leads to the perfect outcome, but rather the fact that he has always been granted the opportunity to make choices.

It’s as if, at this moment, he can cast aside all social roles and simply be “Victor,” allowing himself to be there for the girl wherever she needed him and creating a space where she could find him at any time.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

The feeling of being needed by her, of being able to help her–– these aspects bring Victor a profound sense of happiness. It seems that this happiness is enough to make the long days ahead, in which he may be forgotten by her, a little less painful to endure.

Victor nods slightly in the direction of the church, solemnly expressing his gratitude for this blessing within his heart.

Victor turns around and ascends the steps, summoning all the main gods to take their positions,

“Suspend all matters at hand.”

A murmuring commotion rises among the main gods, as they are puzzled about why BOSS has chosen to halt their activities during such a crucial moment when the end of the night is just about to descend.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Before those impatient inquiries can escape their lips, though, Victor’s cold and commanding demeanor instantly silences them.

His gaze sweeps over the crowd, ensuring that every main god is present, before finally settling on the entrance not far away. The main gods, following his line of sight, turn their heads toward the entrance as well.

A few seconds later, the BS door is pushed open with a resounding sound.

The girl appears at the far end of Victor’s unwavering gaze, gasping for breath. He, with a stern and proud expression, leads the main gods toward her until she can see him. It’s only when the girl has a clear view of him does Victor halt his steps.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

As those bright, sparkling eyes gaze at him from afar, and their eyes interlock, Victor’s heart is flooded with a myriad of complex and indescribable emotions. There is a sense of relief that the situation has unfolded according to his expectation, a deep sense of gratitude that she is standing before him at this moment, and a profound pride for her that emanates from the depths of his being… just as these emotions are about to pour out of his heart sincerely, he casts his gaze downward. He leads the main gods to step aside in the shadows, creating the path for the girl to ascend the platform.

As he watches her walk step by step toward the long-unoccupied seat, Victor knows that regardless of what she might ask for, he has already prepared himself to do all that he can and give his everything for her.

—

#??? he was actually tearing up when she was walking up to him!!! was saying last night too - that scene still sends shivers down my spine.#i honestly can’t recall for the life of me?? how can a person who is willingly on the brink of sacrificing himself for millonth time—#HAVE SUCH GRATITUDE in his heart!!! like honey no. yes if it were a normal situation i’d consider that a blessing too. but being burdened—#with the responsibilities you never asked for and having a sword hanging up your head and asking you to choose – IS NOT A BLESSING #cause you’re gonna be killed either way!!! BAOBEI COULD YOU FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE BE NOT SO GOOD? SO SELFLESS??#i have so much to say and there’s so much to unpack!!! gonna keep it for after being done with exams LOL #also!! RONAN!! OMG HE IS PRACTICALLY MC HAHAHA. i absolutely love that we got to know more about him and such precious friendship 🥺❤️#mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc #mr love victor #mr love queen's choice #恋与制作人 #李泽言 #love and producer #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc translations

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original-jade · 6 months

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(x)

There was laughter in the Sky Temple.

This in itself was not unusual. Humans who were welcomed to the temple often brought with them their joy and cheer. Bo Rai Cho rarely passed up the opportunity to spread mirth during his visits. Fujin himself was more carefree by nature, open to wonder and awe where most of his fellow deities were reserved.

This laughter was different. It was jarring to hear, both familiar and foreign at once. The airy yet staccato sound echoed off what should have been empty halls. Sharp and high pitched, it rolled through temple, traveling from room to room, making it difficult to pin down the source. It was only when it stopped, if only for a moment, that Fujin realized where he had heard it before.

That was Raiden’s laugh.

At least it used to be. The tone was light, more akin to a child’s, but it was otherwise identical to the sounds Fujin thought long lost. He hadn't heard such frivolity from his brother in millennia. Not since… Well. There was a reason that previous champions were rarely spoken of. To hear it again now, absolutely unprompted, should have been a momentous occasion, but it was instead unnerving.

Raiden wasn’t at the temple. He had gone to the Wu Shi Academy for business with the Order of Light and had yet to return. Even if he were to return without being seen, the air carried none of the static that heralded his presence. Beyond that, what would there be to laugh about so freely, given recent events? He had retreated even further into his shell of stoicism than Fujin had seen before.

Following the sound was difficult. Each time he got close, the laughter would fade out before echoing from another part of the temple entirely. The chase quickly turned from puzzling to frustrating, his winds whipping into a frenzy to mirror his mood. Whoever, whatever this was was toying with him. When he finally caught sight of something disappearing around a corner, only for it to be gone when he reached it, he had had enough.

Whatever was there was not mortal. That simple fact allowed Fujin the freedom to dissolve his physical form into pure divine winds without concern. Traversing the temple at unnatural speed, he cleared floor after floor, able to completely disperse the remnants of lingering echoes. It soon became apparent there was only one section remaining—the Jinsei Chamber.

Upon arriving at the chamber, Fujin condensed his winds back into his body. What he saw before him was not the threat he had imagined. Standing in front of the door was, what at least appeared to be, a child in simple white robes and a familiar oversized hat. His face was entirely in shadow, but his eyes glowed bright blue and crackled with electricity. The boy grinned mischievously, having finally been caught, before disappearing in a flash of lightning. “Again!”

#rainy day writing #mk #fujin #kidd thunder

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pb-dot · 8 months

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hey!! this is chance and here’s week 5’s prompt. your oc suddenly gets transported to a mall. what store(s) would they go in? would they buy anything? what would they think? tell me about the experience.

Thanks for the ask Chance, as always it is a delight :)

Now, to make this a bit of a group activity, I'm going to say Jake, 13, and One all get isekaied to a mall. I'm also going to assume they have some local currency for spending money. They're all native to a crowded hellscape of capitalism, so the transition will, I suspect, go relatively smoothly.

13 will be confused and overwhelmed at first since he's not as used to the hustle and bustle of the city as Jake is. Jake will do his best to guide 13 through the din but realizes there is no need to worry when they come across a bookstore, and 13 straight up loses himself in the stacks. Bookstores aren't really a thing in The City, as reading fiction and literature is considered a frivolous activity. There does exist a thriving cottage industry of dime novels and serials in printed magazines, but the lack of centralized distribution leaves these struggling for relevance. After briefly being paralyzed by the sheer scale of fiction available to him and the plethora of authors he hasn't even heard of, 13 will no doubt be beset by what I can only describe as a ruthlessly efficient book-shopping mood. At the end of the trip, 13 will carry about 30% more books than a human his size should conceivably be able to carry owing to his superior strength and dexterity.

After leaving 13 to his books, Jake will probably amble around without any clear plans. The mall's hardware store keeps him busy for a while, but he ultimately finds the tools to be of decent quality but ill-fitting for the kind of work he'd need them for. After spending some time being disappointed at how there seems to be no clockwork technology around, Jake buys a pair of decent boots and spends the rest of the time people-watching.

While Jake's unflinchingly practical approach makes him a bit of a boring shopper, it's nothing on One. It hasn't come up much so far, but One does not like crowds at all. Whoever she was before being converted to a Clockman, years of skulking around in the shadows and continously plotting for this or that end has left her badly agora- and enochlophobic. To make matters worse, her first instinct in coming face to face with large crowds is hiding, and the omnipresent lights makes that difficult. To add to it, the presence of muzak and other artificial sources of sound messes with the anti-sound field that One relies on to move silently.

After having a moderate to severe panic attack in the food court, One will likely decide to make the best out of a, to her, objectively terrible situation. One makes an exercise out of it, taking the option to train on her crowd stealth. After getting some more inconspicious clothes than the "nude androgyneous clockwork robot"-look she usually rocks, One gets to work. Knowing One she probably chose to steal the clothes to avoid the social interaction required for the purchase. One then spends the rest of the day getting better at staying outside of notice in the crowd, moving in such a way to throw off potential tails without attracting attention, perhaps lifting a few wallets and dumping them on unsuspecting people for a laugh, that sort of thing.

Tag List:

@ettawritesnstudies @mrbexwrites @teacupsandstarlight @anonymousfoz @wrenofthewords @sm-writes-chaos @dyrewrites @owlsandwich @olive-riggzey

If you want to be put on the Tag List for this project, please interact with my Tag List Post.

#hearts in clockwork #the clockwork boy #writing #writeblr #asks #Noncanonical character shenanigans

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theearlgreymage · 5 months

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A Six Sentence Sunday AND a WIP Wednesday (it's only a little after midnight, it's still Wednesday in my brain) post in the same week? Who am I?

Thanks for the tags today 😘 @hushed-chorus @thewholelemon @cutestkilla @shrekgogurt and @ivelovedhimthroughworse

I've been writing like an absolute maniac this week (hiding from life a bit), and FINALLY have a Title for my NaNoWriMo Project. So, without further ado, an UPDATE ON MY MAD SCHEMES

Excerpt from Chapter XXI of May Their Blood Boil

“Lord Reiss has requested you attend him at dinner tonight,” Petra confirms my thoughts. Glancing around her shoulder to assure that the door is shut completely, I still drop my voice to a whisper. “Does Erwin know?” She shakes her head. “Fuck.” “I know,” Petra agrees. “He disappeared after telling us the plan, but as soon as someone spots him, I’ll make sure he knows.” “There’s no avoiding this, is there?” Again, she shakes her head and I groan in frustration. With a grumbled, let’s get this over with then, I let Petra assist me in changing out of the more relaxed day attire and into the frivolous shirt and jacket. It has far too many buttons and the edges of the coat are stiff with the excessive embroidery in them. Even though I’m being marched down to have dinner with a viper, it’s still nice to be out of the confines of my chamber after so many days of looking at the same four walls. The route to the dining hall is the same as I remember it, albeit there are more cracks in the walls than I recall. When we reach the doors to the dining room, a pair of guards are waiting for us. Their gloved hands resting on the handles of the doors as we round the corner. “His lordship is expecting you,” they say at the same time. Their voices monotone in a way that still sends chills down my spine. They’re not a part of the bunch that are secretly loyal to Erwin. Petra isn’t permitted to enter the dining chambers with me, so I’m forced to enter them alone. Just get to the table. There’s bound to be a knife at the very least. The room is dimmer than normal with the curtains drawn closed, leaving the only source of light to be that of the numerous candles. “Good evening, Levi. It’s been a while,” Reiss' voice echoes as he speaks. “Yeah. Well you had me ordered to the confines of that room,” I don’t even bother with the pleasantries. If I’m lucky and piss him off enough, he’ll send me back to that room. “I’ll admit, it was a bit of a childish tactic to use on you,” Reiss pauses his speech as he takes a sip of his wine. “But you were acting like a child. Honestly, sneaking off to see those vermin –” “My family,” I interrupt him, “they’re my family.” Reiss shakes his head at me and gestures for me to sit. I remain standing. “Sit down, Levi,” Reiss verbalizes the order. I still refuse. “I said, sit down.” Reiss’ voice drops with the command. Sounding raw and bloodied in his throat as the chair that was previously pushed into the table suddenly manifests behind me. Pushing forward and up against the back of my knees until I’m falling backwards into the seat of the chair. The moment I’m down, the chair is pushed all the way into the table - the wooden edge digging into my chest painfully tight. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Hello's and Happy Thanksgivings (to those who celebrate) ❤ to Everyone (Tags Under the Cut)

@artsyunderstudy @krisrix @fatalfangirl @ic3-que3n @j-nipper-95 @aristocratic-otter @martsonmars @foolofabookwyrm-activated @ileadacharmedlife @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @palimpsessed @bazzybelle @nausikaaa @stardustasincocaine

#wip wednesday #wip #nanowrimo #writing update #aot #attack on titan #writing to hide the emotions #i've gone non verbal today

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cornus27florida · 1 year

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Favorite Fan Theory ? CPC - a meta post

Another 'independent' post of QnA

COLOR THEORY !!! - I try to uniting those theories from whatever sources & multiple people's quote/opinion at once

Starting from the TC at the episode 133th "After the Gala" - one of few examples when comment section is good :

From here, we moved on to color scheme circle + meaning :

In this post - We will only (to limiting the length of the post so not overboard, but feel free to talk about others!!) talking about character that mentioned in that comment thread [which also becoming the Top Comment of episode 133th] which are and the meaning of their color motif :

^ Color comparison between characters, while Jack's color is combination of all of his children (espc during his youth) so even thou he's mentioned but won't be talking about it

Maria/Beckett/Suzanna/Lance : Shades of Blue (primary)

Blue is often associated with sadness (melancholy) in the English language. Blue is also used extensively to represent calmness and responsibility. Blue is also associated with peace and has spiritual and religious connotations in many cultures and traditions (for example, the Virgin Mary is generally depicted wearing blue robes).

Light blues can be friendly. Light blues are often relaxed and calming. Bright blues can be energizing and refreshing = Maria, Suzanna (the Female IMHO on light shade, while the men color motif [Lance and Beckett] on darker shade)

Dark blues are more strong and reliable = Beckett, Lance

Blaine: Red (primary color)

Red is a very hot color. It’s associated with fire, violence, and warfare. It’s also associated with love and passion. In history, it’s been associated with both the Devil and the (love) Cupid. Red can actually have a physical effect on people, raising blood pressure and respiration rates. It’s been shown to enhance human metabolism, too.

Red can be associated with anger, but is also associated with importance (think of the red carpet at awards shows and celebrity events). Red also indicates danger (the reason stop lights and signs are red, and that warning labels are often red).

Outside the western world, red has different associations. For example, in China, red is the color of prosperity and happiness. It can also be used to attract good luck. In other eastern cultures, red is worn by brides on their wedding days. In South Africa, however, red is the color of mourning.

Lorena: (light) Purple (secondary color)

Purple is a combination of red and blue and takes on some attributes of both. It’s associated with creativity and imagination, too. In design, dark purples can give a sense wealth and luxury. Light purples are softer and are associated with spring and romance. In Thailand, purple is the color of mourning for widows. Dark purples are traditionally associated with wealth and royalty, while lighter purples (like lavender) are considered more romantic.

Jamie : Pink (secondary color with the aspect of 'white' neutrality)

The color of frivolity (lack of seriousness; lightheartedness.) lives between red and white. Pink takes all the passion and energy of red and tempers it with the purity of white, leaving us with the color of tenderness and affection. Pink has been definitively linked to toning down aggression, and its use in holding cells for violent criminals has been quite effective. Some sports teams have even painted opposing teams locker rooms pink in an attempt to reduce aggression. Pink is such an effective mood regulator that too much of it can by physically draining. Dark pinks have effects similar to red–heightened emotions, while pale pinks are more soothing.

Leland : Monochrome color of Black and White (Neutrality)

Black is the strongest of the neutral colors. On the positive side, it’s commonly associated with power, elegance, and formality. On the negative side, it can be associated with evil, death, and mystery. Black is the traditional color of mourning in many Western countries. It’s also associated with rebellion in some cultures, and is associated with Halloween and the occult.

White is at the opposite end of the spectrum from black, but like black, it can work well with just about any other color. White is often associated with purity, cleanliness, and virtue. In the West, white is commonly worn by brides on their wedding day. It’s also associated with the healthcare industry, especially with doctors, nurses and dentists. White is associated with goodness, and angels are often depicted in white. In much of the East, however, white is associated with death and mourning. White flag will stands if there's funerals in some part of the east countries. In India, it is traditionally the only color widows are allowed to wear.

Gwendolyn/Frederick: Green -> also will telling Fred's jacket

^ Although the same color motif but we know Gwen and Fred has different shade color of green, with Frederick's green is more darker while Gwendolyn's green more lighter.

Green is a very down–to–earth (humbling) color. It can represent new beginnings and growth. It also signifies renewal (rebirth) and abundance (wealth). Alternatively (in connotation sense), green can also represent envy or jealousy, and a lack of experience.

Green has many of the same calming attributes that blue has, but it also incorporates some of the energy of yellow. In design, green can have a balancing and harmonizing effect, and is very stable.

Brighter greens are more energizing and vibrant, while olive greens are more representative of the natural world. Dark greens are the most stable and representative of affluence (the state of having a great deal of money; wealth).

--------------Frederick's Trademark TM Plaid Jacket-----------

I noticed that Frederick's jacket's color changes throughout the story - I don't know if that's intentional from LambCat OR really just happens.. but one thing for certain based on my observation, the more the story progress - the more darker is (and even 'murkier') his plaid 'jacket' cloth become. Mono giving idea that it correlates with Frederick knowledge about the 'arranged' marriage and now I feel that's very likely!

* The Plaid cloth in early season (dark green with 'white'ish element) : Frederick is oblivious (the 'white'ish element) to the marriage plan, and His "jealousy" element which come from how envious he is that the fiancee for his brothers are 'beautiful' while he feels he got the short stick one.

* When the story progress, so does Frederick's feeling. For example look at when Prez holding his jacket Sleeve at CPC season 3 : his jacket is darker than the one when he unintentionally scratched Gwen's hand to bleed - this the starting point (based on his flashback in ep 145 when he remembering Gwen) for him fell in love with Gwen. At Gwen's dinner party, he feels the meeting with Gwen is actually the starting point of good things happened to him

Forward to the final season of CPC espcially in the aspect of Frederick's knowledge about the marriages of Plaid/Pastel

^ Frederick desperation to reaches out the Pastel Princesses espc Gwen again, but got halted by Leland at the end of gala

* After the end of gala when he realized that the marriage likely 'just part of scheme for his kingdom', we see his jackets that left in his wardrobe (and Jamie picked up) has darker color than the ones we see at season 3 - the darker shade more like becomes 'murkier' a bit = correspondes with Frederick's wariness when at the end of the gala - his father and brothers not correcting about the marriage isn't an act

* and even more murky-er which evidence in his Teddy bear, the final color change happened right after he got confirmed by his own father that the engagement is indeed a fake.

Frederick's green plaid jacket color changes theory is very much thanks to the HEX CODE identifier of this website :

Ciao everyone, me leaving but open to your lovely thoughts like on the reblog tags xD ~bye byeeeee

#cursed princess club #cursed princess club frederick #cursed princess club gwendolyn #color motif theory #behold internet!!!#cpc theories

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