#I want to draw his true angelic form sometime but that will be difficult | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

castielcommunism · 2 years

Note

hi <3 because you have written a lot about angel stuff what do you think about the depiction of heaven facilities in Supernatural, like it should have been like backrooms, like liminal spaces

HIII sorry first of all I’m going to be an annoying pedant about the term “liminal” because it’s an important geographic term. Like from a utility standpoint liminal spaces either facilitate human movement (roads, hallways) or are holding bays while waiting for movement to occur (hospital waiting rooms, airports). Their function is their lack of meaning aside from being a space that connects you to a place of meaning. I think that’s why on an emotional level people often express feeling strange in these spaces, whether it’s via memes about encountering demons in the hallway at 2am or feeling like an unplugged refrigerator in an airport waiting area. You feel “out of place” because the space is designed to be temporary. You don’t go to a sidewalk or road to hang out with your friends, for example!

So like Heaven as a space where angels hang out doesn’t fit that definition very well. We see them using it as a meeting place to talk with another, to observe humans in heaven, to receive punishment after disobeying, and all kinds of other things. It’s a place that has meaning for them that they use for a variety of different things, and it’s also a place they defend as their “home.” I don’t like most depictions of it in the show, but that takes a while to explain beyond the obvious of “it’s kinda lame”

The interesting thing about spn is that it takes the biblical* creation myth seriously while also acknowledging modern understandings of the creation of the universe (the Big Bang is referenced, Cas says he’s on Earth “several billion years after the beginning” that kinda thing), so Supernatural’s sense of temporal and spatial scale is much more vast than the religious history it’s drawing from. As a result angels seem to be a mix of traditional depictions of angels (wings, fire, glowing eyes, swords) and modern knowledge bases (Cas knows physics and calculus, there’s multiple references to them being machines/computers, he describes his true form in reference to modern architecture, “wavelength of celestial intent”, etc).

So like in light of that, I often think of Heaven not as like a three dimensional realm angels go to when they want to gossip with each other (which is how it’s presented in the show) but again as a blend of historical religious myth and modern science. The Halo games actually do this very well - the gods in those games constructed much of the laws of the universe that every living thing operates from, including upper dimensional channels for travelling vast distances. The gods themselves exist kinda like networks that transmit information across spacetime and don’t really exist in 3 dimensional form - think of a brain with much more complex architecture that spans the universe. Like in the same way a shadow is a 2D representation of a 3D object, their 5D “star roads” (transit channels) can sometimes be glimpsed in 3D “shadows” (this is a broad over simplification and I’m pulling from a rusty memory on Halo lore, so some of this is probably inaccurate). Dimensionality is reduced until the human brain can perceive it, and human beings can’t parse data in more than 3 visual dimensions. We can do 4d as long as the forth dimension is temporal (not visual), but even that is pretty difficult. But think of all the data loss in a shadow! How much do you know about an object if you just look at its shadow?

And like given how bizarre angels are, how rare they were prior to their introduction in s4, and how the early seasons especially play with the cosmic horror element of them having to exist on earth, I think it’s maybe not a huge stretch to conceive of them as these vast informational networks and not like discrete bodies that are separate from each other. The Host is the amalgam of all angels, and angels are established in the show to be vehicles for God’s will who carry out orders without question. They are also, again, established to have advanced modern knowledge of things like math and string theory and natural selection. spn is actually a really good study in the naturalisation of religion into state authority, infusing the natural sciences (which are regulated and controlled by government bodies like the academy and scientific agencies) with religious importance, and naturalising religious figures such as angels by positioning them as authorities on science.

Anyway sorry lol this is all over the place. The point I’m trying to make is that, while this is not supported in canon explicitly, I think there’s a decent argument to be made that angels defy descriptions of “existing in a place.” We know their grace and their true bodies are separate things, we know from S8 that Cas can exist simultaneously in both Heaven and on Earth at the same time, and we know angels have the ability to monitor earth (and other places in spacetime) without interacting with it directly. I tend to therefore think of angels and Heaven as these not-spaces, and more like a cluster of information that gathers to exchange knowledge. Heaven is the medium through which that happens, and then angels converse with one another through that medium. They don’t necessarily have to “travel” there because their true forms exist discontiguously from their consciousness, so presumably angels don’t have to physically move their bodies to places in order to interact with other angels. So Heaven also doesn’t have to be strictly physical.

This is where I think spn suffers from its own visual medium. The written word is a lot more effective at communicating incomprehensibility (HDM’s version of angels described them as vast celestial architecture, and you can see giant impossible walls hanging out of their bodies when you look at them from your periphery), and I think that’s also why early seasons Heaven and Hell were a lot more intriguing because they were visually absent from the show. AND, also, the one time we did see Hell in the early season (the shot of Dean waking up in Hell in the s3 finale), it was depicted as an interlocking network of chains, which fucking owns and is partially the inspiration for conceptualising Heaven in a similar way.

—

*using the word biblical as a result of my own limitation of knowledge. I know a lot of the lead writers are Jewish and I don’t mean to downplay that. I also know spn exists in a bizarre intersection of being kinda Catholic and kinda Jewish so I don’t know what the exact appropriate term for this would be.

#spn.txt #i need a tag for angel stuff #meta #omg. this was a long post sorry

85 notes · View notes

mxvladdy · 3 years

Text

True Form- Belphegor

*collapses dramatically* Oh Gods its done! Sorry for the break! I hope my edits are good!

More to come in this series soon :)

Hope y’all enjoy!

True Form- Belphegor

Keeping a defined for is hard. Too hard for him anyway.

His true form is inconspicuous. He just naturally doesn’t take up much space in the physical realm. He likes it this way though.

An overlooked predator is a dangerous one.

If he is ever seen in this form it looks like a thin film. He drapes over everything, like dust in an unopened room, or the cling of fresh dew in the morning in the rose garden.

He never uses it when awake. His human form is more palatable and functional in all honesty. Don’t get me wrong though, he doesn’t hate it. It used to be really useful when he wanted to nap and Lucifer was on the prowl. But, such good things can only last for so long. Now Lucifer can sniff him out from a mile away incorporeal or no after centuries of practice.

His real form is best implemented in the minds of his slumbering victims. He can cultivate himself there, using his form to feel out the needs and desires of his unsuspecting host.

He is a manipulator, tried and true. His cunning and wile gets him pacts more than a promise of power or wealth.

Belphegor draws them in with promises of grandeur and unexplored inventions. Limitless discoveries all at the very tips of their fingers, if only they take one more step further. One more little slip deeper into the abyss. Then they can stay sleeping forever with him.

Even as an angel he was known as a dreamer. More often then not he could be found in the inner sanctums sleeping with Beel and Lilith during lessons or being carried around by Lucifer. Back then he always had pleasant dreams or innovative ideas that the other angels made use of. The little inventor.

Now that he has fallen, nightmares come to him more often than not, uncontrollable flashes of The War, his sister’s death, and the pain of betrayal. Perhaps that was his punishment, always drowsy with no control over when he sleeps, with nothing but nightmares to accompany him.

When he has control over himself in his slumber he likes to flit around into other’s dreams. Most of the time he goes to Beel’s as they are very pleasant and help distract him from the night terrors he had just escaped from.

Sometimes when bored or pissy he jumps to Lucifer’s dreams. It’s a rare occurrence when they are asleep at the same time, but he takes absolute delight in fucking with his oldest brother’s dreams or looking for secrets to lord over him.

He doesn’t come into your dreams uninvited though. Not after you freed him. You have given him permission to. But he uses it sparingly. When he needs a break from his own head he might control when you are tired. Just so he can have some time out of his head.

He is very controlling in that retrospect. He will form the shape of your dreams at first. But, you ween him out of it. Now he trains you to lucid dream. He lets you shape your reality around you both. You don’t know it, but he is allowing you to shape him as well.

Mini Fic

He watches you from a distance. The grassy knoll you built was bright and airy. Pink and purple flowers sway in the light breeze you created, winking at him as they move. The large willow draping over you pulls a happy little hum from your chest. The swinging branches tickling your sun kissed cheeks. You lounge sprawled out on the ground staring up at the false sun with the largest grin on your face. The rays of sunshine illuminate your prone form, casting stark shadows in its wake. They travel down the hill searching and coiling for shelter from the strong lighting. They find him, latching on to his bare feet and merge with his own disjointed outline. How apropos.

"You can come up here Belphie. Promise I won't bite." You call out into the sky. Your eyes were still closed, but you tilt your head in his direction none the less. The smile you throw down at him is more blinding than the sun you dreamt up.

“I don’t want to intrude.” He steps out from the tree line blinking owlishly. Being welcomed in a dream had been unheard of before you. The mindscape was an intimate and private space. He was meant to be an invader, a taint. Before this he had been nothing but a rogue clinging to the edges. A whisper of temptation carried on the wind, or the hollow thud of a heel echoing down an empty street. It’s different here, with you. You expected to see him or sense him in whatever form he chooses. It was-nice.

“You're never an intrusion.” Your raw honesty floors him still, even after all this time together. “Had a rough night?” You ask patting the space beside you.

“Something like that.” He murmurs dropping down next to you. He is distracted momentarily by the heat radiating off your body. “You’ve been practicing.” You beam, proud that he noticed so quickly. His lessons on dream walking and lucid dreaming were hard, but looks like they were finally paying off.

It had been difficult at first, keeping a solid detailed form while knowing you were asleep. Then trying to stay asleep while doing it. You had to fight against the instinct to wake up constantly. It was like somewhere deep inside your psyche was trying to protect you, like it knew what happened when a human ventures too far into this place. Almost like it knew that a cunning little demon was lurking somewhere down here.

“How’d you guess?” You ask rolling onto your side. He answers by reaching out to you and dragging a soft finger down your bare arm. You shiver at the cool touch, little goosebumps awakening under his touch. Your picturesque scene wavers at the corners from his touch. The caress breaking your concentration for a moment. Belphegor smirks. “I’m still working on it!” You blush.

“I don’t mind, as long as I’m the only one that that can shake you so.” He pulls away to summon a large pillow for himself. You watch him try to get comfortable. He punches and rolls around the poof for a moment trying to get comfortable. You could tell something was troubling him. The energy in his gaze was borderline manic. His usually relaxed stature was strung taut, right on the border of snapping. He would murder you again if you said it; but he looked so much like Lucifer right now. Tight, cold, and rigid. A clear signal of distress.

“You want to take the helm?” You wave around the small scene offering him a distraction. He could expand the scene far further than you could, probably ever could. “Or do you want to let your hair down?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him. You smile at his little snort, that human saying always got him to laugh.

“Sure you don’t mind?” You shake your head and sit up. Truth be told, you liked his weird demon form. You could never entirely place where he was when he was in it, but you just knew he was there and close. It was reassuring.

He breathes a sigh of relief before flopping backward. He disappears on impact with the soft ground. The grass and flowers coming up to engulf him as he takes over. He flows around you into every corner of your mind, stretching himself to the furthest corners of your dream. He weaves himself in your fantasy. You get swept up in it for a moment. The raw force of him pulling at your center. It is suffocating for a moment, the oppressive weight of his magic. It brings out a bone-deep weariness in you without meaning to. You feel the growing need to just rest. Just a moment.

“Back with me?” You open your eyes. When had you closed them?

“Ye, sorry.” You lean up onto your elbow and shake your head to clear the fog that still clung to it. It was always a head rush when he did that. Blinking the rest of his magic away you take in your now joint dream. The sun was gone, replaced with twin moons and awash with multicolored stars. His sky bled colors, dripping purples and blues onto the green grass around the edges of your vision. The more you focus the more the field grows and stretches. Off in the distances, tiny tents emerge, sprouting up like shoots from the blackness. “Really?” You eye the tents with a wry smile. If you strained your ear you could hear faint carnival music.

A low rumble bounces around you. “You suddenly have an issue with the circus?”

“Absolutely not!” You raise, calling out into the vastness around you. “You better make a carousel!” You could feel him chuckle around you as you began your trek down the hill.

Belphegor is quiet while you navigate the forest. He’s whole being hyper focused on building the world around your quick steps. His was divided and working overtime in an attempt to distract himself. Part of him was busy building the carnival, another working on making sure you don’t stir from your slumber, and the other awake and aware. He hasn’t done this in a while, splitting his consciousness so thin like this. His human body lumbering along in the physical world while his mind was busy in the subconscious one. Hopefully, none of his brothers were awake and would try to intervene. He wanted to be close to you, in both body and mind tonight. You reach the edge of the woods and he turns his full attention back to you.

He had gone all out for you. Bright lights and the echoing laughter of imaginary guests assault your senses. You could even taste buttered popcorn and caramel on the tip of your tongue. A warm hand takes yours causing you to jump. Belphie gives you an apologetic grin for startling you before dragging you off into the park without a word. Who knows how long the two of you spent. Time, as you understood it, worked differently here. Faster or slower you had no idea. But, right now you didn’t care. He needs you here in the present.

“So-” You start hesitantly much later in the evening. You lick at some cotton candy that had gotten stuck on your fingers. “Want to talk about it?” Belphegor shoots you a look from where he perched. His feet dangling from a study steel fence. He watches you ride the slow-moving carousel as it goes round and round in lazy circles. He mulls over what to say as you make a rotation.

“I dreamt of Lilith again.” He admits. He comes to sit on the metal animal beside you, disappearing and reappearing in a puff of smoke at your side.

“I’m sorry.”

“Ye. Me too.” He pats the kelpie he sits on. Its listless eyes bore into his. His old nightmares reflecting in their ruby gaze. He wanted to be over this. Why wasn’t he over this? The longer he stares into the horses dead eyes the more his nightmares creep back onto him.The dream shifts around you. The air dropping in temperature drastically. The merry background noises choked off and replace with a buzzing that made your head hurt. The sound of metal striking metal and shouts start to grow at the base of your neck.

“Belphie-” You reach out for him, cupping his face. He doesn’t notice you anymore. His mind going somewhere you shouldn’t venture. His expression turns stormy, closing off to you completely. Fear begins to build up inside of you. Something uncontrollable riding in on the fast building winds. The night sky he built changes. Stars blinking out one after another like blown bulbs. The moons swelling in size, crashing into each other as your dream begins to crumble. “Shit.” You had to wake up, and fast.

You awake with a start back in your bed. Eyes snapping open while your body lays motionless. An odd sensation of sleep paralysis locking your joints. Something radiates behind you, a lanky body drawn close to yours. Sweet breath tickles the nape of your neck. Fighting the paralysis that held you, you turn to greet your bed guest.

Belphie’s half-lidded eyes seem to look through you. His body was icy, a ghostly vapor wafted over of his pale skin. You tried to wake him but your tongue was stuck. All you could do was stare wide-eyed as he dreamt. He comes back to you slowly. His eyes twitch and roll sporadically until he blinks, drawing in a ragged breath as he comes to. His skin warms with each passing tick of your alarm clock. As your drowsy demon stirs the stiffness in your body begins to ebbs. His chokehold on your mind weakening. After what seemed like an eternity he awakens. He takes you in for a moment and then he’s on you, lurches forward to drag your pliant body to his. “Scared me for a second there Belphie.” You mutter into his soft hair.

He sighs, breathing in your scent and focusing on your strong pulse. It had been a while since he had lost control of himself like that. Building up a world was easy. Tearing it down was even easier. The thread that kept people under was thin, like a single strand of silk. To lose himself to a nightmare in another being’s head? It was unheard of. It terrified him. “Did I hurt you?” He rasps.

“No,” You reassure him, pressing a kiss to his sweaty brow. “I woke up in time.” He goes quiet again trying to keep his breathing steady. “Hey.” You stroke a few strands of hair from his face. “You’re thinking pretty hard there, can I help?”

Could you help? If he was losing control of his dreamscape again… He would have to tell Lucifer. A shudder runs up his spine at the thought of retraining. No, he was still strong enough to keep it under control “Just keep stroking my hair, please?” He yawns widely, lethargy hitting him hard. He drifts off to the feel of your fingers flowing smoothly through his hair. The lingering fears slip further and further from his mind with each soft caress.

#obey me #obey me fandom #obey me belphegor #obey me fanfic

157 notes · View notes

miraculousmarifan · 3 years

Text

Felinette Month 2020 - Day 19: Fallen Angel

Happy @felinettenovember! Can you guys guess what prompts I spend more than one day writing? I almost decided to try drawing the akumatized Felix before remembering that I haven’t drawn in nearly 10 years (maybe I would be better off painting it?) and wasn’t really good at people before that point... So I did this instead!

Almost 1900 words and if requested, this could have a continuation for some resolution later this year or early next year and/or potentially a piece of art to try showing Felix as an akuma and/or the object that inspired his form

Felix was close to flipping tables. Marinette had to be an angel from above with how she was handling being bullied by this Lila girl. How was it that even after the school was notified that Lila supposedly had a disease that made her compulsively lie but wasn’t antisocial personality disorder (?), the teacher refused to step in and help one of her star pupils? He shouldn’t be surprised. This was the same teacher that condoned Chloe’s defacing of Marinette’s present to count as them working together on it, even though Marinette had put actual effort into it. This was the same teacher that tried to convince Marinette to be a doormat, in the name of “setting a good example,” as though that has truly changed people that benefit from wronging others.

What he really couldn’t understand was how her friends weren’t more cautious about the liar. She had temporarily gotten Marinette expelled by claiming that she had not only cheated on a mock test, but also stolen the liar’s necklace, AND pushing the witch down the stairs. The class didn’t believe that it sounded like Marinette and YET after Marinette is returned due to the supposed uncontrollable lying diagnosis, they don’t question Lila's integrity? He couldn’t quite fathom why they wouldn’t take the things she said with a grain of salt after that very public and obvious set of lies, especially about Marinette.

And yet, here he was. Standing outside the classroom, waiting for a phone call from his driver, when he overhears the liar whispering to a few girls from the class. Marinette had been gone for an appointment the last period of school and apparently that wasn’t enough for Lila. He heard Alya exclaim, “That doesn’t really sound like Marinette…” and then a sad reply along the lines of how she knew Marinette was friends with all them but she couldn’t believe Marinette said that to her and just wanted to understand why by asking their closest friends. So on so on. Even with her verbalized doubt, it was clear from the tone she used that Alya believed it possible that Marinette had something to Lila, even if it wasn’t as severe as the liar had made it out to be. Felix didn’t need to be any closer to smell the fake crap Lila was spreading. He was sure it would have smelled over a mile away.

Rose exclaimed how she couldn’t believe how much Marinette was starting to act like Chloe and how they really needed to shake Marinette out of this. Alya volunteered to talk to her about it and encouraged them not to do anything crazy before then. It was the first time Felix felt a decent amount of respect towards Alya. Apparently she is starting to learn not to jump immediately to conclusions when it comes to Lila and Marinette. Unfortunately their other friends hadn’t gotten that much insight from the previous incidents and believed that Lila wouldn’t possibly exaggerate or make up anything and cause drama unnecessarily. Alya told the group that she had texted the girl and was going to head over to their place to hang out later that night.

Alya left, muttering how it sounded too extreme to be what Marinette had actually said. Felix had to give it to her, even if she had too much faith in the Italian, it was nice to see she wouldn’t fully discount her friend without any true evidence. Unfortunately with Alya’s departure, the voice of reason had left these girls and they were left with a snake. Felix decided to move slightly closer, just to keep an ear out for danger.

“I don’t think having a talk with her is really going to change Marinette’s mind. I mean she already knows about my health conditions and she’d rather discriminate against me than admit that I’m just trying to be friends. I reached out in good faith, painting her a picture, and she destroyed it and told me we could never be friends. It was just shockingly mean! She’s so nice to you guys so I thought this would help, especially since we like so much of the same stuff! I can’t help it if Adrien rejected her for me!”

Felix wanted to gag at that reasoning again. Marinette had worked to move on from Adrien long ago and especially hard when he had started dating Kagami over a year ago. She even started having tea and snacks with his girlfriend at least once a month, since Kagami didn’t get out much and Marinette didn’t want her to feel left out. As far as Felix knew, Marinette had long since given up on Adrien and was more focused on her personal projects than on boys, something her friends should have known by now.

“We know it’s not your fault and she should realize that too!” Rose tried to cheer up Lila.

“It’s so hard to imagine her destroying someone else’s art when she preaches about how people shouldn’t touch other’s work! Plus she has to know how much that sucks, after Chloe ruined her present for Ms. Bustier a few years ago…” Alix sounded angry enough to act impulsively and it didn’t sit well with Felix.

“To me, it just doesn’t seem like talking to her is going to be enough for her to really think about her actions, but you guys know her the best!” Lila managed to get a small amount of wavering into her voice, to convey hesitant worry and unsuccessfully attempted optimism through her small shrug. Felix may have thought that some of her lies should be relatively easy to dismiss but he had to admit that sometimes she could be a good actress.

“If we left her a message along with doing something, she wouldn’t ignore it right? Especially if she knows that if she ever does something like that again, we won’t stay friends with her…” Alix suggested. Felix felt his stomach sink. This was going bad but he couldn’t just walk in there right? He waited a moment longer to hear them start planning how they were going to ruin Marinette’s personal art project that she had been working on during her study hall, as it was sitting in a drying area of the art room. He had enough information to go talk to Damocles about what he had heard.

After hearing Felix’s concerns and hearing his stern insistence that this was actually at risk of happening, not just girl’s venting, Damocles accompanied him to the art room to check into the security of the projects inside. By the time the pair arrived though, they were too late. Nobody was in the room anymore, however Marinette’s project was beyond repair.

She had sculpted a human-like angel with arms raised with peace and joy captured remarkably on its face, an orb in its hands being presented to the sky like a holy gift. The wings had been formed into individual feathers and Marinette had just put the first layer of paint on it that day. The base color of the wings was a lovely shade of light pink, her dress had the first layer of white, the skin left a gray tone, with a small amount of darker gray and lighter gray added to certain areas to imitate how light would fall if emitted from the orb. The orb had a strange tone of light blue-green for the base. He had been enthusiastically anticipating her final painting work since she had finished the sculpting step.

Now the angel was missing a wing, the orb that had barely rested on the carved palms was separated from the hands, and the arms were no longer connected. He picked up the body of the statue gently before looking up at Damocles sadly.

“It’s too bad we didn’t get here sooner. I guess we will just have to check the school’s cameras to figure out who did this.” Damocles took a step towards the stand that the statue had previously been set on, picked up the note left on it, and read it out loud.

“‘This is for ruining Lila’s painting. You should’ve accepted her peace offering rather than blaming her for Adrien’s rejection and if you keep acting like this, you won’t have any more friends here.’--” he cleared his throat in displeased surprise, “-- I will need to take this note as evidence in this. Also, we should probably take some pictures of the damages before getting this cleaned up.”

Felix helped set the pieces of the statue on the table next to each other before the principal took out his cell phone and snapped a quick picture of that and of the note. Before the man could leave, Felix volunteered to clean up the classroom as he was sure Marinette would still want the pieces. He was also sure that Damocles would actually proceed with this investigation due to his involvement and firmness regarding the need to supply a punishment. While the punishment would not be sufficient, there would at least be some record of this incident.

Before sweeping up the tiny pieces that he didn’t expect her to care about, he sat down in a chair and held the body of the statue. His fingers ran over the one remaining wing despite the paint smearing on his skin, feeling the texture his classmate had managed for the feathers. It was an amazing work that would be difficult to replicate, if Marinette even decided it was worth doing again. Part of him hoped she would redo the remarkable piece. He felt anger bubbling just below the surface of his sadness, anger that the girls that were supposedly her friends would do this. Anger that their school was not secure for her. Anger that he wasn’t able to protect her, even having heard the plans. Grief over being too slow to protect her. Crushing sadness that she couldn’t trust her classmates, her supposed friends, to even ask her about a situation before trusting another’s words about her. Someone that had very publicly lied to get her suspended just the last school year. He was so busy with his thoughts and the statue that he missed the purple butterfly coming towards him until it settled into the statue.

“Hello Ange Déchu. I am Hawk Moth. The people around you pass judgement on the innocent and work on behalf of the wicked. It must be frustrating to watch them work to break the people you care about. I will give you the power to understand people’s intentions and apply your chosen consequences on them so you can protect the ones you love. In exchange you would give me Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous.”

In this akumatized form, he could not only protect Marinette but also help her get revenge on the manipulative witch. She would be his queen, his direction, and she would be able to decide how she wanted to apply justice.

“Yes Hawk Moth. I will deal out Marinette’s justice and get the miraculous for you.” The akumatized Felix, called Fallen Angel, unfurled his black wings and pushed off the ground to fly to Marinette’s side. He would protect her first and foremost. Then they would deal with the witch and her flying monkeys however she saw fit.

#felinette month 2020 #felinette month #akumatized felix #lila salt #alya sort of redeemed?#some bustier salt #damocles actually does SOMETHING #felinette #miraculous ladybug

133 notes · View notes

still-a-morosexual-help · 3 years

Text

OBEY ME! LESSON 46 DETAILED SUMMARY + THEORIES

This lesson’s got two locked chapters that I can’t unlock :’)

D takes them to the casino where they meet Mammon in the Lamp event outfit. When he laughs and tells them that they must have forgotten who he is if they think they can take the money MC ignores all of this to ask him wtf he’s wearing. Mammon blushes and tells them that they have no right to criticize what he’s wearing considering what they’re wearing. Then he says also Lucifer wtf happened to you!? He laughs and teases Lucifer about getting shrunk and how he could accidentally step on him and kill him rn or how Beel might eat him as a snack. I saw someone say that Mammon was a little shit who was also BabyTM and like Yess!??? I love when we get to see more of the asshole side of him specially when we already know how soft he is. Man’s an onion :’) Beel says he wouldn’t do that unless Lucifer hid inside a piece of cake and Beel swallowed him whole without realising. Lucifer, off screen: “You’d better realise I was there!” And Like??? That’s the point Lucifer wants to argue? Not the fact that he wouldn’t hide inside a cake? Mammon says whatever and that he’ll take Lucifer from them so he can have fun with his new toy anyway RIP to Mammon who dies after this lesson. “Mammon, Avatar of Greed, Appears”- gonna have Pokemon Battles from now on, I can’t believe this what this dating sim has evolved into :D Mammon uses wind to lift Lucifer up and bring him towards him. MC has a flashback to the previous night and commands Beel who transforms into a demon and whose body starts moving on its own, Beel then cancels out Mammon’s spell and uses a wind spell to send Mammon flying. Beel transforms back to his human form and is shocked by what happened. Solomon says MC did a good job commanding Beel though they weren’t able to draw out all his powers. They get the armour, which Beel thinks is too flashy but MC tells him it looks great which he is happy about. D tells them about a rumour of Satan attacking a town up north.

As they walk through the woods Lucifer talks about how much he’s gonna love beating the shit outta Mammon when he’s back to normal and waves MC off when they ask him to go easy on Mammon. Beel says that Lucifer used to be a lot nicer to Mammon in the celestial realm and how the two of them would team up to go argue with Raphael. Solomon asks if it was Diavolo who got Lucifer to change and what exactly Lucifer had to do to reach the status they now enjoy in the Devildom. Beel seems shocked at this and ask Lucifer if it’s true. He says he doesn’t remember. There’s growling & they’re suddenly surrounded by ghosts. Solomon: Oh yeah lol this is called the Black Phantom Forest. Everyone else: WHY the FUCK didn’t you say so before!? They run from the ghosts and set up camp beside a lake, MC & Beel talk. Beel says how they’ve all changed from their time in the Celestial Realm and he can’t remember when he stopped resisting the urge to constantly eat. But how somethings are still the same and how the brothers have always been together and how they always will be. He brings up the three things the butcher said to maintain a long relationship and how even though they may sometimes falter at the “respect each other” part when it comes down to it the brothers have all three things with each other (Not me sobbing like a baby. It’s the found family trope for me guys). Beel says how he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to fight Belphie if they meet him in the game and how he has so many people who he loves that he doesn’t know who to put first and that he knows many people would kill to have that kinda problem and that as both an angel and a demon he’s being lucky to have the people he loves. MC gets to hold his hand, lean on his shoulder or say nothing and guys I love Beel so much he’s just so pure god. Okay so theory part: I 100% believe (& it’s implied in canon and in the chats too) and the main reason Lucifer is so mean to Mammon now is because he’s scared if he doesn’t discipline him then Diavolo will and he’ll end up with another Lilith situation. That being said I NEED to know how Lucifer came across Mammon in the celestial realm and what he said to make Mammon so loyal to him. PLS om! Give me the boys backstory? I like to think Lucifer raised Mammon the same way Simeon is raising Luke and that’s why you can see some of Lucifer’s traits in Mammon whenever he becomes serious about something and why Mammon sometimes slips up and calls Lucifer “Dad” and why Lucifer becomes so happy about it. I also think the others would have been older than Mammon was when he first met Lucifer, when they eventually joined the family which is why they share far less traits with Lucifer and why (as far as we know) none of them have called Lucifer ‘dad”. If this is true it also brings up a real interesting dynamic between Satan and Mammon that would be useful when writing fics. You know a little deeply buried resentment and envy about Lucifer having been more of a father figure to Mammon than to the person who is technically his actual son, and since we know for a fact that right after arriving in the Devildom Lucifer starts going through an existential crisis and Mammon’s the one who steps up to look after the others I 100% believe Mammon’s the one who did most of the work in raising a newly created Satan and who taught him how to control his anger so well (cause lets be real it definitely couldn’t be any of the others) which also gives backstory to Satan’s “do you think Mammon’s actually the most decent of us” homescreen comment and more importantly adds spice to the relationship dynamic you can work with in fics.

When they wake up Beel is thankful that they didn’t get eaten. Solomon: not like you would have noticed with all the fun you had *wink wink* Lucifer: wtf Solomon:*WINK WINK* Me: bro they were just talking… they find out game time and real world time pass differently and come across a treasure chest in the middle of their path. Solomon: Lets open it! :D Lucifer: Expect that’s definitely a trap… Solomon: Exactly! Which is why we should open it! :D MC: Lets open it! :D Lucifer: Why is the entire human species so fucking stupid!? Why were you created without any self preservation!? Who approved this!? They find medicine, a warding bottle and cat ears. …They put Lucifer into the bottle and Lucifer’s really going through it in this huh. But opening the chest pulls up an inescapable battle with the final boss, and Satan pops up fully immersed in the villain role with an evil laugh and everything. Luci asks MC to use something from the chest and they use the cat ears and Lucifer’s disappointed when they actually work. But it only deals 222 damage to Satan’s 870k HP. Satan paralyses them all and steals bottled lucifer and calls Belphie to finish the others off. I can’t remember if I mentioned this before but how did the brothers know that Lucifer was gonna be mini before they even got home, it would’ve had to be quite a bit in advance for them to so perfectly set up everything… And you know Solomon was really determined to open that chest (I mean so was MC but the whole of season 1 was establishing that their curiosity was gonna get them killed) so…

MC tells Belphie they don’t want to fight him and Belphie says he doesn’t want to fight either but at the same time Satan agreed to give him mine lucifer for a whole day if he defeats them. Beel’s still reluctant and Belphie says Beel doesn’t have to worry cause Belphie isn’t the same small/weak person that Beel always had to protect (and holy shit I need more info on this too?). Beel eventually agrees and says that Belphie’s strong, he tells MC that they weren’t able to use his entire power against Mammon cause he was holding himself back unconsciously but that he was ready now. MC makes Beel do a bunch of wind attacks and they defeat Belphie who’s impressed. Beel says that the magic was actually MC doing it not him (even though he was the one that executed it). Belphie says he’ll join their party if MC promises him that he’ll be allowed to poke at mini luci. MC tells him there’s a damned line and he’ll have to wait his turn. Solomon wonders if MC should be going around giving the right to annoy lucifer to others but also he wants that right too. Even though Lucifer was kidnapped since he’s still in the bottle he’ll be protected so MC’s test is still ongoing. Odd that there was a bottle that would protect Lucifer should he get kidnapped in the chest that was a trap… look we all know Solomon is shady enough that he’s probably behind this right?

During dinner at a tavern the twins are sickeningly soft with each other and Solomon watches them with a smile. For the night the twins end up sharing a room with each other, with Mc and Solomon alone together. In the middle of the night MC wakes up to Solomon still up and looking sad. They ask him what’s up. He says despite how much they walked he still isn’t tired and that seeing the twins together made him lonely. Seeing how much they love and care and understand each other and how they were always together made him wish he had something similar but how when you didn’t age it was difficult to from lasting bonds like that in the human world. MC tells him that all of them care about him and he says he hopes so. Solomon: Lol just the two of us in a room in a game, wouldn’t it be crazy if we made out? MC can either kiss him or kinda stare awkwardly. If they choose the second he apologises for suddenly putting them on the spot and says he won’t try anything else. So this might be kinda an unpopular opinion and I’m genuinely really happy that the side characters are getting more screen time and development because I desperately needed that but I’m not really onboard the romancing option with them? I’m happy they’ve got their own cards now and I love the devilgram stories and romance options in them but I don’t think it makes sense in the context of the main storyline? Barbatos has almost no interaction with MC and though they haven’t shown it yet it’d be weird if he was suddenly into MC. Diavolo spent 2 whole seasons simping over Lucifer why is MC suddenly an option? Besides Diavolo always seems so lonely and I really want him and MC to be really good friends, I want Diavolo to have a friendship where there isn’t some condition that hangs over it like there is with his relationship with Barbatos and Lucifer. The same goes with Solomon. I just want him to have a good solid friendship where there isn’t expectations or power between them. He also initially only seems interested in MC for their power and as a way to train them and eventually genuinely softens up to them, Just the request to kiss seemed outta nowhere? I don’t know why but with Simeon he seems above crushes? I always imagine him seeing MC as another cute kid Lucifer picked up (despite MC being an adult) and having a sort of soft indulgent attitude towards them. I don’t know I think I just want MC to have some friends who aren’t trying to sleep with them.

Solomon is extremely chipper the next morning and Belphie grumpily makes a comment about him having fun and sdfjdvnsjdokd they just talked. Belphie uses his magic to teleport them to Satan’s castle and Beel asked why he couldn’t do that the previous night, Belphie says grumpily cause then Solomon would have missed out on the fun and Solomon agrees and THEY JUST TALKED!? Satan has managed to transform Lucifer into wolf Lucifer and is shaking his bottle hard enough to make Luci wanna puke while Lucifer asks him to stop. MC tells satan to stop and he tells them they won’t be able to defeat him cause they skipped right to the boss battle without taking the long route and levelling up. MC says they’re not gonna fight him cause this whole thing is fucking stupid. Satan says it’s not cause he’s having fun. MC gives him one of their free therapy sessions about how important the bonds between he and his brothers are and how they don’t care more about helping the brothers all get along than some stupid star. Beel comes out spitting facts, saying they all know that Satan actually cares about Lucifer and how that embarrasses him and how he needs to stop hiding it by lashing out. And how Lucifer needs to get his shit together and be honest with satan. That he needs to tell Satan that Lucifer knows he’s his own demon and a really good demon at that. Lucifer says FYI but I never said you weren’t your own great person and Satan blushes and says that unless he wants to look childish he has no option but to accept the olive branch. He tosses Luci to MC. Belphie complains about having stupid older brothers and Solomon says he’s disappointed in Satan and reveals himself as the true secret final boss and FUCK YEAH! I CALLED THAT SHIT! Kinda – I thought he might have just given them a heads up about Luci’s condition. On a different note, Satan needs serious therapy. They all do tbh.

Solomon congratulates MC on what they’ve done so far but says they still haven’t accessed Beel’s full potential and that he’ll give his ‘adorable apprentice’ one more shit at it. Solomon summons Asmo who complains about how long he was made to wait and how he nearly gave up and went to the spa and that no one likes a selfish man. Solomon tells Asmo that he can tell him all this after they get back to the real world and I genuinely want the backstory of how they met and just more about their relationship. At Solomon’s command Asmo uses charm and paralyses Beel and at MC’s Beel uses another wind attack. Asmo says he’s never seen beel do something of this calibre before and he seems more powerful, even more than he was in the celestial realm, Asmo yells at Solomon for just standing and seeming impressed instead of helping him. There’s a bright white light.

Back home with everything back to normal Beel, Lucifer and MC are hanging out by the pool. Lucifer is in an unexpectedly good mood and MC has earned a star, which glows slightly from its place on the symbol etched to the back of their hand. Inside Solomon is feeding the other brothers as punishment. Mammon is sobbing his heart out and Levi is out cold (possibly dead). Satan is given Levi’s remaining share of food and Asmo is in tears. Belphie had made a run for it the second they got home and is nowhere to be found. Solomon talks about how nice Lucifer actually is and how he really loves his brothers cause he just made Solomon make them dinner instead of punishing any of them…. Love that the canonical reason why none of these demons tell Solomon about his food and allow themselves to get tortured is cause they don’t wanna be rude and hurt his feelings. And he thought no one cared about him. If that isn’t love I dunno what is. Beel and MC take a walk while Lucifer sits by the pool and in his words basks in “their screams of agony” While blushing beel says he’s grateful for what happened and how that star is proof that they got closer. Mc can either thank him or say that the star belongs to him. I think they kiss after the second option? For the first Beel says MC’s the one who did the work of drawing out his power. Over the echoing screams from inside Beel asks if they feel like they forgot something and ndfjkfjkdjfefjkn THEY FORGOT DIAVOLO I’M!!!!???? poor baby

#my posts #my theories #obey me spoilers #obey me!#obey me #swd obey me #shall we date? obey me!#obey me shall we date

10 notes · View notes

chiseler · 3 years

Text

The Mysterious Death of a Hollywood Director

This is the tale of a very famous Hollywood mogul and a not-so-famous movie director. In May of 1933 they embarked together on a hunting trip to Canada, but only one of them came back alive. It’s an unusual tale with an uncertain ending, and to the best of my knowledge it’s never been told before.

I. The Mogul

When we consider the factors that enabled the Hollywood studio system to work as well as it did during its peak years, circa 1920 to 1950, we begin with the moguls, those larger-than-life studio chieftains who were the true stars on their respective lots. They were tough, shrewd, vital, and hard working men. Most were Jewish, first- or second-generation immigrants from Europe or Russia; physically on the small side but nonetheless formidable and – no small thing – adaptable. Despite constant evolution in popular culture, technology, and political and economic conditions in their industry and the outside world, most of the moguls who made their way to the top during the silent era held onto their power and wielded it for decades. Their names are still familiar: Zukor, Goldwyn, Mayer, Jack Warner and his brothers, and a few more. And of course, Darryl F. Zanuck. In many ways Zanuck personified the common image of the Hollywood mogul. He was an energetic, cigar-chewing, polo mallet-swinging bantam of a man, largely self-educated, with a keen aptitude for screen storytelling and a well-honed sense of what the public wanted to see. Like Charlie Chaplin he was widely assumed to be Jewish, and also like Chaplin he was not, but in every other respect Zanuck was the very embodiment of the dynamic, supremely confident Hollywood showman.

In the mid-1920s he got a job as a screenwriter at Warner Brothers, at a time when that studio was still something of a podunk operation. The young man succeeded on a grand scale, and was head of production before he was 30 years old. Ironically, the classic Warners house style, i.e. clipped, topical, and earthy, often dark and sometimes grimly funny, as in such iconic films as The Public Enemy, I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang, and 42nd Street, was established not by Jack, Harry, Sam, or Albert Warner, but by Darryl Zanuck, who was the driving force behind those hits and many others from the crucial early talkie period. He played a key role in launching the gangster cycle and a new wave of sassy show biz musicals. At some point during 1932-33, however, Zanuck realized he would never rise above his status as Jack Warner’s right-hand man and run the studio, no matter how successful his projects proved to be, because of two insurmountable obstacles: 1) his name was not Warner, and 2) he was a Gentile. Therefore, in order to achieve complete autonomy, Zanuck concluded that he would have to start his own company.

In mid-April of 1933 he picked a public fight with Jack Warner over a staff salary issue, then abruptly resigned. Next, he turned his attention to setting up a company in partnership with veteran producer Joseph Schenck, who was able to raise sufficient funds to launch the new concern. And then, Zanuck invited several associates from Warner Brothers to accompany him on an extended hunting trip in Canada.

Going into the wilderness and killing wild game, a pastime many Americans still regard as a routine, unremarkable form of recreation, is also of course a conspicuous show of machismo. But in this realm, as with his legendary libido, Zanuck was in a class by himself. He had been an enthusiastic hunter most of his life, dating back to his boyhood in Nebraska. Once he became a big wheel at Warners in the late ’20s he took to organizing high-style duck-hunting expeditions: the young executive and his fellow sportsmen would travel to the appointed location in private railroad cars, staffed by uniformed servants. Heavy drinking on these occasions was not uncommon. (Inevitably, film buffs will recall The Ale & Quail Club from Preston Sturges’ classic comedy The Palm Beach Story, but DFZ and his pals were not cute old character actors, and their bullets were quite real.) Members of Zanuck’s studio entourage were given to understand that participation in these outings was de rigueur if they valued their positions, and expected desirable assignments in the future. Director Michael Curtiz, who had no fondness for hunting, remembered the trips with distaste, and recalled that on one occasion he was nearly shot by a casting director who had no idea how to properly handle a gun.

But ducks were just the beginning. In 1927 Zanuck took his wife Virginia on an African safari. In Kenya Darryl bagged a rhinoceros and posed for a photo with his wife, crouched beside the rhino’s carcass. Virginia, an erstwhile Mack Sennett bathing beauty and former leading lady to Buster Keaton, appears shaken. Her husband looks exhilarated. During this safari Zanuck also killed an elephant. He kept the animal’s four feet in his office on the Warners lot, and used them as ashtrays. If any animal lover dared to express dismay, the Hollywood sportsman would retort: “It was him or me, wasn’t it?” Zanuck made several forays to Canada with his coterie in this period, gunning for grizzly bears. Director William “Wild Bill” Wellman, who was more of an outdoorsman than Curtiz, once went along, but soon became irritated with Zanuck’s bullying. The two men got into a drunken fistfight the night before the hunting had even begun. In the course of the ensuing trip the hunting party was snowbound for three days; Zanuck sprained his ankle while trailing a grizzly; the horse carrying medical supplies vanished; and Wellman got food poisoning. “It was the damnedest trip I’ve ever seen,” the director said later, “but Zanuck loved it.”

Now that Zanuck had severed his ties with the Warner clan and was on the verge of a new professional adventure, a trip to Canada with a few trusted associates would be just the ticket. This time the destination would be a hunting ground on the banks of the Canoe River, a tributary of the Columbia River, 102 miles north of Revelstoke, British Columbia, a city about 400 miles east of Vancouver. There, in a remote scenic area far from any paved roads, telephones, or other niceties of modern life, the men could discuss Zanuck’s new production company and, presumably, their own potential roles in it. Present on the expedition were screenwriter Sam Engel, director Ray Enright, 42nd Street director Lloyd Bacon, producer (and former silent film comedian) Raymond Griffith, and director John G. Adolfi, best known at the time for his work with English actor George Arliss. Adolfi, who was around 50 years old and seemingly in good health, would not return.

II. The Director

Even dedicated film buffs may draw a blank when the name John Adolfi is mentioned. Although he directed more than eighty films over a twenty-year period beginning in 1913, most of those films are now lost. He worked in every genre, with top stars, and made a successful transition from silent cinema to talkies. He seems to have been a well-respected but self-effacing man, seldom profiled in the press.

According to his tombstone Adolfi was born in New York City in 1881, but the exact date of his birth is one of several mysteries about his life. His father, Gustav Adolfi, was a popular stage comedian and singer who emigrated to the U.S. from Germany in 1879. Gustav performed primarily in New York and Philadelphia, and was known for such roles as Frosch the Jailer in Strauss’ Die Fledermaus. But he was a troubled man, said to be a compulsive gambler, and after his wife Jennie died (possibly of scarlet fever) it appears his life fell apart. Gustav’s singing voice gave out, and then he died suddenly in Philadelphia in October 1890, leaving John and his siblings orphaned. (An obituary in the Philadelphia Jewish Exponent reported that Gustav suffered a stroke, but family legend suggests he may have committed suicide.) After a difficult period John followed in his father’s footsteps and launched a stage career, and was soon working opposite such luminaries of the day as Ethel Barrymore and Dustin Farnum. Early in the new century the young actor wed Pennsylvania native Florence Crawford; the marriage would last until his death.

When the cinema was still in its infancy stage performers tended to regard movie work as slumming, but for whatever reason John Adolfi took the plunge. He made his debut before the cameras around 1907, probably at the Vitagraph Studio in Brooklyn. There he appeared as Tybalt in J. Stuart Blackton’s 1908 Romeo and Juliet , with Paul Panzer and Florence Lawrence in the title roles. He worked at the Edison Studio for director Edwin S. Porter, and at Biograph in a 1908 short called The Kentuckian which also featured two other stage veterans, D.W. Griffith and Mack Sennett. Most of Adolfi’s work as a screen actor was for the Éclair Studio in Fort Lee, New Jersey, the first film capital. The bulk of this company’s output was destroyed in a vault fire, but a 1912 adaptation of Robin Hood in which Adolfi appeared survives. That same year he also appeared in a famous docu-drama, as we would call it, Saved from the Titanic. This ten-minute short premiered less than a month after the Titanic disaster, and featured actress Dorothy Gibson, who actually survived the voyage, re-enacting her experience while wearing the same clothes she wore in the lifeboat. (This film, unfortunately, is among the missing.) After appearing in dozens of movies Adolfi moved behind the camera.

Much of his early work as a director was for a Los Angeles-based studio called Majestic, where he made crime dramas, Westerns, and comedies, films with titles like Texas Bill’s Last Ride and The Stolen Radium. In 1914 the company had a new supervisor: D. W. Griffith, now the top director in the business, who had just departed Biograph. Adolfi was one of the few Majestic staff directors who kept his job under the new regime. A profile in the February 1915 issue of Photoplay describes him as “a tallish, good-looking man, well-knit and vigorous, dark-haired and determined; his mouth and chin suggest that their owner expects (and intends) to have his own way unless he is convinced that the other fellow’s is better.” It was also reported that Adolfi had developed something of a following as an actor, but that he dropped out of the public eye when he became a director. Presumably, that’s what he wanted.

Adolfi left Majestic after three years, worked at Fox Films for a time as a staff director, then freelanced. During the remainder of the silent era he guided some of the screen’s legendary leading ladies: Annette Kellerman (Queen of the Sea, 1918), Marion Davies (The Burden of Proof, 1918), Mae Marsh (The Little ‘Fraid Lady, 1920), Betty Blythe (The Darling of the Rich, 1922), and Clara Bow (The Scarlet West, 1925). Not one of these films survives. A profile published in the New York World-Telegram during his stint at Fox reported that Adolfi was well-liked by his employees. He was “reticent when the conversation turned toward himself, but frank and outspoken when it concerned his work. Mr. Adolfi is not only a director who is skilled in the technique of his craft; he is also a deep student of human nature.” Asked how he felt about the cinema’s potential, he replied, with unconscious irony, “it is bound to live forever.”

III. The Talkies

In spring of 1927 Adolfi was offered a job at Warner Brothers. His debut feature for the studio What Happened to Father? (now lost) was a success, or enough of one anyway to secure him a professional foothold, and he worked primarily at WB thereafter. Thus he was fortuitously well-positioned for the talkie revolution, for although talking pictures were not invented at the studio it was Sam Warner and his brothers, more than anyone else, who sold an initially skeptical public on the new medium. After Adolfi had proven himself with three talkie features Darryl Zanuck handed him an expensive, prestige assignment, a lavish all-star revue entitled The Show of Shows which featured every Warners star from John Barrymore to Rin-Tin-Tin.

Other important assignments followed. In March of 1930 a crime melodrama called Penny Arcade opened on Broadway. It was not a success, but when Al Jolson saw it he sensed that the story had screen potential. He purchased the film rights at a bargain rate and then re-sold the property to his home studio, Warner Brothers. Adolfi was chosen to direct, but was doubtless surprised to learn that Jolson had insisted that two of the actors from the Broadway production repeat their performances before the cameras. One of the pair, Joan Blondell, had already appeared in three Vitaphone shorts to good effect, but the other, James Cagney, had never acted in a movie. Any doubts about Jolson’s instincts were quickly dispelled. Rushes of the first scenes featuring the newcomers so impressed studio brass that both were signed to five-year contracts. While Adolfi can’t be credited with discovering the duo, the film itself, re-christened Sinners’ Holiday,remains his strongest surviving claim to fame: he guided Jimmy Cagney’s screen debut.

At this point the director formed a professional relationship that would shape the rest of his career. George Arliss was a veteran stage actor who went into the movies and unexpectedly became a top box office draw. He was, frankly, an unlikely candidate for screen stardom. Already past sixty when talkies arrived, Arliss was a short, dignified man who resembled a benevolent gargoyle. But he was also a journeyman actor, a seasoned professional who knew how to command attention with a sudden sharp word or a raised eyebrow. Like Helen Hayes he was valued in Hollywood as a performer of unblemished reputation who lent the raffish film industry a touch of Class, in every sense of the word.

In 1929 Arliss appeared in a talkie version of Disraeli, a role he had played many times on stage, and became the first Englishman to take home an Academy Award for Best Actor. Thereafter he was known for stately portrayals of History’s Great Men, such as Voltaire and Alexander Hamilton, as well as fictional kings, cardinals, and other official personages. The old gentleman formed a close alliance with Darryl Zanuck, whom he admired, and was in turn granted privileges highly unusual for any actor at the time. Arliss had final approval of his scripts and authority over casting. He was also granted the right to rehearse his selected actors for two weeks before filming began. All that was left for the film’s director to do, it would seem, would be to faithfully record what his star wanted. Not many directors would accept this arrangement, but John Adolfi, who according to Photoplay “was determined to have his own way unless he is convinced that the other fellow’s is better,” clearly had no problem with it. His first film with Arliss was The Millionaire, released in May 1931; and in the two years that followed Adolfi directed eight more features, six of which were Arliss vehicles. He had found his niche in Hollywood.

One of Adolfi’s last jobs sans Arliss was a B-picture called Central Park, which reunited the director with Joan Blondell. It’s a snappy, topical, crazy quilt of a movie that packs a lot of incident into a 58-minute running time. Central Park was something of a sleeper that earned its director positive critical notices, and must have afforded him a lively holiday from those polite period pieces for the exacting Mr. Arliss.

In spring of 1933, after completing work on the Arliss vehicle Voltaire, Adolfi accompanied Darryl Zanuck and his entourage to British Columbia to hunt bears. Arliss intended to follow Zanuck to his new company, while Adolfi in turn surely expected to follow the star and continue their collaboration. Things didn’t work out that way.

IV. The Hunting Trip

It’s unclear how long the men were hunting before tragedy struck. On Sunday, May 14th, newspapers reported that film director John G. Adolfi had died the previous week – either on Wednesday or Thursday, depending on which paper one consults – at a hunting camp near the Canoe River. All accounts give the cause of death as a cerebral hemorrhage. According to the New York Herald-Tribune the news was conveyed in a long-distance phone call from Darryl Zanuck to screenwriter Lucien Hubbard in Los Angeles. Hubbard subsequently informed the press. The N.Y. Times reported that the entire hunting party (Zanuck, Engel, Enright, Bacon, and Griffith) accompanied Adolfi’s remains in a motorboat down the Columbia River to Revelstoke. From there the body was sent to Vancouver, B.C., where it was cremated. Write-ups of Adolfi’s career were brief, and tended to emphasize his work with George Arliss, though his recent success Central Park was widely noted. John’s widow Florence was mentioned in the Philadelphia City News obituary but otherwise seems to have been ignored; the couple had no children.

V. The Aftermath

Darryl F. Zanuck went on to found Twentieth Century Pictures, a name suggested by his hunting companion Sam Engel. One of the company’s biggest hits in its first year of operation was The House of Rothschild, starring George Arliss and directed by Alfred Werker. The venerable actor returned to England not long afterwards and retired from filmmaking in 1937. In his second book of memoirs, published three years later, Arliss devotes several pages of warm praise to Zanuck, but refers only fleetingly to the man who directed seven of his films, John Adolfi, and misspells his name.

In 1935 Zanuck merged his Twentieth Century Pictures with Fox Films, and created one of the most successful companies in Hollywood history. He would go on to produce many award-winning classics, including The Grapes of Wrath, Laura, and All About Eve. Zanuck’s trusted associates at Twentieth-Century Fox in the company’s best years included Sam Engel, Raymond Griffith, and Lloyd Bacon, all survivors of the Revelstoke trip. Personal difficulties and vast changes in the film industry began to affect Zanuck’s career in the 1950s. He left the U.S. for Europe but continued to make films, and sporadically managed to exercise control over the company he founded. He died in 1979.

In 1984 a onetime screenwriter and film critic named Leonard Mosley, who had known Zanuck slightly, published a biography entitled Zanuck: The Rise and Fall of Hollywood’s Last Tycoon. Aside from his movie reviews most of Mosley’s published work concerned military matters, specifically pertaining to the Second War World. His Zanuck bio reveals a grasp of film history that is shaky at times, for the book has a number of obvious errors. Nevertheless, it was written with the cooperation of Darryl’s son Richard, his widow Virginia, and many of the mogul’s close associates, so whatever its errors in chronology or studio data the anecdotes concerning Zanuck’s personal and professional activities are unquestionably well-sourced.

When Mosley’s narrative reaches May 1933, the point when Zanuck is on the verge of founding his new company, we’re told that he and several associates decided to go on a hunting trip to Alaska. The location is not correct, but chronologically – and in one other, unmistakable respect – there can be no doubt that this refers to the Revelstoke trip. From Mosley’s book:

“There is a mystery about this trip, and no perusal of Zanuck’s papers or those of his former associates seems to elucidate it,” he writes. “Something happened that changed his whole attitude towards hunting. All that can be gathered from the thin stories that are still gossiped around was that the hunting party went on the track of a polar bear somewhere in the Alaskan wilderness [sic], and when the vital moment came it was Zanuck who stepped out to shoot down the charging, furious animal. His bullet, it is said, found its mark all right, but it did not kill. The polar bear came on, and Zanuck stood his ground, pumping away with his rifle. Only this time it was not ‘him or me,’ but ‘him’ and someone else. The wounded and enraged bear, still alive and still charging, swerved around Zanuck and swiped with his great paw at one of the men standing behind him – and only after it had killed this other man did it fall at last into the snow, and die itself. That’s the story, and no one seems to be able to confirm it nor remember the name of the man who died. The only certain thing is that when Zanuck came back, he announced to Virginia that he had given up hunting. And he never went out and shot a wild animal again, not even a jackrabbit for his supper.”

VI. The Coda

Was John Adolfi killed by a bear? It certainly seems possible, but if so, why didn’t the men in the hunting party simply report the truth? Even if their boss was indirectly responsible, having fired the shots that caused the bear to charge, he couldn’t be blamed for the actions of a dying animal. But it’s also possible the event unfolded like a recent tragedy on the Montana-Idaho border. There, in September 2011, two men named Ty Bell and Steve Stevenson were on a hunting trip. Bell shot what he believed was a black bear. When the bear, a grizzly, attacked Stevenson, Bell fired again – and killed both the bear and his friend.

That seems to be the more likely scenario. If Zanuck fired at the wounded bear, in an attempt to save Adolfi, and killed both bear and man instead, it would perhaps explain a hastily contrived false story. It would most definitely explain the prompt cremation of Adolfi’s body in Vancouver. Back in Hollywood Joe Schenck was busy raising money, and lots of it, to launch Zanuck’s new company. Any unpleasant information about the new company’s chief – certainly anything suggestive of manslaughter – could jeopardize the deal. A man hit with a cerebral hemorrhage in the prime of life is a tragedy of natural causes, but a man sprayed with bullets in a shooting, accidental or not, is something else again. That goes double if alcohol was involved, as it reportedly was on Zanuck’s earlier hunting trips.

Of course, it’s also possible that Adolfi did indeed suffer a cerebral hemorrhage. Like his father.

John G. Adolfi is a Hollywood ghost. Most of his works are lost, and his name is forgotten. (Even George Arliss couldn’t be bothered to spell it correctly.) Every now and then TCM will program one of the Arliss vehicles, or Sinners’ Holiday. Not long ago they showed Adolfi’s fascinating B-picture Central Park, that slam-bang souvenir of the early Depression years in which several plot strands are deftly inter-twined. One of the subplots involves a mentally ill man, a former zoo-keeper who escapes from an asylum and returns to the place where he used to work, the Central Park Zoo. He has a score to settle with an old nemesis, an ex-colleague who tends the big cats. As the story approaches its climax, the escaped lunatic deliberately drags his enemy into the cage of a dangerous lion and leaves him there. In the subsequent, harrowing scene, difficult to watch, the lion attacks and practically kills the poor bastard.

by William Charles Morrow

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

My sources for this article, in addition to the Mosley biography cited in the text, include Stephen M. Silverman’s The Fox That Got Away: The Last Days of the Zanuck Dynasty at Twentieth-Century Fox (1988), and Marlys J. Harris’s The Zanucks of Hollywood: The Dark Legacy of an American Dynasty (1989). For material on John Adolfi I made extensive use of the files of the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts. Special thanks to James Bigwood for his prodigious research on the Adolfi family genealogy, and to Mary Maler, John Adolfi’s great-niece, for information she provided on her family.

10 notes · View notes

orange-waterfalls · 4 years

Text

Reader w/wings hc's p.2: lesser- known egos/egos i just didn’t wanna put in the last one

ty @fancybootm for the request!

A/N: IT’S BEEN A WHOLE ASS MONTH SINCE I GOT THIS I AM SO FUCKING SORRY. school is suck. anyways. my brain convinced itself that I had to have the same amount of egos in this one as the last one so shit's long again. I had a bit of trouble but scrounged up enough of them. uhhh I don't... we don't really know a lot? about the personalities of these ones? so I just went with what I thought. for Heistiplier, I like to think Mark in AHWM and ADWM is a completely separate person from Actor. Like until we get to the Actor timeline he is a separate person altogether. Night Guard Mark is like mark from the fnaf musical because i can and fuck you. the egos are very random and from many lesser known videos so uh. you might not know all of them. I didn’t even know all of them at first. some of these fuckers annoy me to no end so I had to make them more likable for my own sanity cjfufydy. I only skimmed through after I wrote so it might suck lol. Uh rated T for cursing. Mentions of religion and mental health. Enjoy!

Y/N(reader) w/ wings headcanons p.2

Ed Edgar saw you as a profiting opportunity.

Bastard only uses you for commercials at first

Wings sell shit, don’t they? Kids are into wings these days?

One day you get pissed and just punch him

He respects you after that…

He’s very loud, of course, and your ears tend to be sensitive

He tries to quiet down when he sees you make a face

It’s difficult because that… that’s just his normal volume

He talks about his son sometimes. Not to you specifically

He gets sad… you still don’t completely understand what happened.

Sometimes it feels like he doesn’t either

You instinctively wrap your wings around him for Safety and Comfort

He is a MAN who DOES NOT CRY but goddammit, he was close

He enjoys your company

The Silver Shepherd thought he was gonna rescue you

He’s a superhero, he HAS to save you, right?

Nah, you’re the one saving him more often than not

He tries not to be jealous, but goddamn

Your wings are just. So big. And pretty

He’ll complain to you about his girlfriend “cheating” on him

You know the bullshit he pulls, but you listen because why not

He appreciates that you at least pay a little bit of attention

He doesn’t do a whole lot of hero work, but he usually brings you along

Just for a bit of extra support

More often than not, you’re doing most of the work

You let him believe he did something, though

You boost his very low ego, and so you get along

Derek Derekson was a little bitch

Also saw you as a profiting opportunity

Yelled sometimes when you messed up

You took deep breaths and tried to stay calm the first few times

Then you snapped, calling him a variety of... words...

He stopped yelling at you, but not much else changed

You got along well with Eric, and he appreciated you for that

He does care about his only living son, at least a little

You two don’t… talk a lot

He’ll watch you from afar, occasionally

You constantly encourage him to TALK TO HIS CHILD and GO TO THERAPY

You still don’t like him, and he feels the same way

But he’s… trying

Randall Voorhees thought you were badass

He wasn’t as used to magic and weird shit as the others

You were absolutely awesome to him

He’d never seen an angel before!

Even though he didn’t really KNOW that you were an angel

He just assumed and refused to change his mind

Harder to hide you wings in crowded cities, like where he lives

You spend a lot of your time with him cooped up in his apartment

He felt bad, so he rents a mountain cabin up in Albany whenever you visit

You two ski and snowboard look me in the eyes and tell me the bitch isn’t a snowboarder

He’s a construction worker, so he’s usually busy

You visit him on his lunch break sometimes.

The other workers claim to see you, but he’ll always deny it

He buys a pizza whenever you visit and you eat it together

You two are so cute it’s sickening

Yandereplier claimed you as their new senpai

They saw you, you had wings, you were nice

And now you are Senpai

You aren’t sure why you get a weird feeling whenever they call you this

Luckily, you don’t have many friends, at least none that they could kill…

They showed you their weapon collection to impress you

You were scared and also impressed

They take you to a cherry blossom tree near their house

You talk and hang out and eat lunch

They don’t call you senpai anymore and they talk to you normally

And you no longer stare at the blood on their uniform

Night Guard Mark prayed you wouldn’t try to kill him

He might have PTSD from Freddy Fazbear’s

Those animatronics left a mark…

It took a little while for him to trust you not to harm him

When he did, HOO BOY is he a chatterbox

He has so many theories about the Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Chain

Dark’s told you not to talk about the actual lore. It might break his spirit

You get very worried sometimes

He looks like that one picture of Charlie Day. You know the one.

Sometimes he gets panic attacks

You wrap him in a cocoon of your limbs and wings to ground him

He likes you for that

You hang out, playing games and watching movies. No horror. Absolutely NONE

You can handle him, and he likes you

Dr. Plier was curious about you

He wondered how you felt about… everything

He asked if you were ok one day and you broke down

He felt guilty and bought you ice cream

He sees you as a sort of… psychological experiment

Like he asks you very strange and slightly personal questions

Ok, very personal, but he’s a therapist, what can you do

He eventually stopped the interrogation and talked to you normally

You get along fine, but it’s kind of the same situation as Dr. Iplier

Chef Iplier wasn’t really all that phased

You were surprised by this because… well… wings

But he just… treats you normal, for the most part.

Sometimes he’ll pet your wings, but only if you let him

He loves how soft your feathers are

He doesn’t make that his entire perception of you

It’s a nice change of pace

He tries to cook for you sometimes, but uh. It doesn’t go well

You’re still confused as to how someone can set a glass of water on fire

You mostly just order take out

You hang out like normal people

Which neither of you are, but you’re both fine with that

Paranormal Investigator Mark is obsessed with figuring you out

Nearly had a panic attack when he first saw you

He wanted to prove the supernatural exists, but he didn’t have a lot of evidence before

And then your mystical-ass came along

Like the Jims, he tried to get pictures, and they all ended up blurry

He threw a fit over it, and you felt kinda bad

You tried to take the picture yourself but it came out the same

He gave up after a while

He info dumps about paranormal stuff to you

It can last from 5 minutes to 5 hours

You do pay attention though, and that makes him happy

He takes you on investigations sometimes

You don’t do much except break shit with those giant wings of yours

He stopped taking you on investigations

Cooliplier is not sure what to think

You have wings! Great! There’s absolutely nothing he can do about that

Not the most normal, but not the weirdest either

He tends to put on a tough-guy persona around new people

You were a lil intimidated

Then you became friends and mans did a full 180 around you

Went from “Your daughter calls me daddy too” to “I’ll have her home by 9 sir”

His personality is sort of a mix of the two

Catch you both screaming the lyrics to Mr. Brightside at 12:00 am

Took you to a mosh pit once

You got kicked out cause of the wings

He felt bad, but you had fun

He teaches you how to dance and roller skate

You also go for rides on his motorcycle

Once you just started flying while he was driving and it was the most fun shit ever

You’re “buds”, as he often tells you

Goopiplier likes you a lot

They like having another not-completely-human creature to talk to

I mean, some of the others aren’t exactly human…

But they’re not the best conversationalists…

Then again, neither is goop.

They mention the Dark Gods ONCE and suddenly no one wants to talk to them…

But you do!! Yay!!!

You mostly just hang out, do whatever

Watch movies, play games, or just talk

They like to draw you

They’re not very good, but you keep them all anyways

Sometimes they do… rituals. While you’re around

You are… a little scared, but that’s okay!

You have sleepovers and act like teenagers

You mock the others and then giggle, getting louder as you go

They’re not that funny, but you had to be there

Elder Jeremiah is terrified of you

He nearly pissed his pants when he saw you

He thought he was finally going to have to pay for his sins

He started crying, and you panicked

Why the FUCK was this 20-something-year-old well-dressed man crying at you???

He dropped his bike and fell to his fucking knees and begged for forgiveness

You felt very uncomfortable with the whole situation

You told him to get up bc he was dirtying up his pants

He eventually stopped crying and you told him you were not an angel

Also not a demon, as you said when he asked

He avoids you, mostly, still thinking you’re gonna drag him down to hell

He stopped the uh. The stealing since you came around

He will hang around/with you sometimes to see if you “reveal your true form”

You haven’t yet, and never will, BUT WHEN YOU DO, HE’LL BE THERE

He does think you’re very nice, though

Preistiplier thinks you’re an angel sent to assist him

He is doing holy work, it only makes sense that He would send a helper

He was disappointed, to say the least

He then came to the conclusion that you lost your memory of being an angel

You couldn’t exactly dispute it, since you don’t remember

So, he takes you on hunts

You don’t do much except make a bunch of fucking NOISE with your WINGS

He’d hoped you’d smite the demons

Or at least scare them, but they know you’re not an angel

He still takes you on hunts because, he’d never admit it, but he… gets scared

You promised not to tell a soul

You confess your sins to him sometimes

They’re usually not what he considers sins, but he listens anyways

He thinks you are a good person, and he enjoys conversations with you

Heistiplier was just normal around you

Well… as normal as he can be

You’d enjoy his company a lot more if he didn’t have such a god complex

You still like him a lot

He likes you too

Even if you did refuse to rob a bank with him

He’s a very… exciting person

Though you don’t really want to be around him when he gets upset

The entire world literally seems to revolve around what he does

He’s a drama queen, and completely feral

It’s worrying at times

You two are normal friends

Playing video games, watching youtube, etc. etc.

You listen to his stories and wonder how he's not dead yet

But you can admit, he's really fucking funny

77 notes · View notes

higuchimon · 3 years

Text

[fanfic] Desired Disobedience: Chapter 3 [end]

"Did you find anything interesting?" Lucifer asked as his image appeared in Desire's sphere. Ryou kept himself quiet; he wasn't sure yet of what Desire had in mind. Better to observe until he knew more and possibly could do more - if he ever could.

"Oh, I did indeed. And you're going to love this," Desire chuckled. He grabbed Ryou by the back of his neck and dragged him to where he could be seen. "First, I've located the vampire."

Lucifer regarded Ryou for a few seconds before he looked back at Desire. "Someone used sigil magic? Haou isn't going to like this.”

"It gets even better. It's Vail. He thinks he can use Hell Kaiser to drain Haou dry."

The two Fallen Angels regarded one another in silence for a few moments, then both laughed uproariously. Desire shook his head, dropping Ryou back onto the bed and returning his full attention to his brother. "If I'm reading the sigils right, though, it's going to be difficult to get the collar off him. It's designed so only someone of the blood of Light can do it."

Lucifer frowned. "That's not even possible. I made sure of that. The Blood of Creation has been extinct for over twenty years."

"I know." Desire shrugged. "There might be someone around with enough of Hope in them to be useful? Does anyone even know what happened to that family line?"

"Not that I know of. Hope likes to stay out of sight and pop up when one least expects it." Lucifer considered. "I'll pass this along to Haou-sama. How long are you going to stay there?"

"I think until he releases Hell Kaiser to go feed on Haou. Someone should keep an eye on him. Vail thinks I don't like having to serve you and Haou." Desire snickered. "How little he knows."

Ryou shifted position quietly. He knew exactly why Desire wanted to stay here and it had nothing to do with keeping an eye on Vail. Or at least, it wasn't just because of him. Desire lived his name, after all.

"I'll see you next week, then. Do amuse yourself. I know how you can be when you get bored." Lucifer smirked before the sphere's magic faded, and Desire tucked it back to wherever it had come from. He turned his full attention to Ryou.

"Have you missed me?" Desire murmured, sliding his helmet off and his armor fading away. "I've certainly been looking forward to seeing you again."

Ryou turned his head away. The sigils had been slightly altered so that they didn't drag him down as much so if he'd wanted to, he could have answered. But he doubted Desire actually wanted to hear him speak. At least not in words.

Desire tucked one hand under Ryou's chin and turned him so that their eyes met. Desire's eyes were nothing like Yuusuke's - not a sweet violet, filled with shadows and mystery. They were a brilliant scarlet, matching his wings, just like his hair, and shone with a rich form of life that made Ryou shudder. He knew this look so very well.

"Did you know Haou promised you to me for an entire month if I brought back interesting word about your whereabouts? I think this qualifies. I look forward to that month - and to the rest of this week. You really were born to be someone else's property, weren't you?"

Ryou's eyes sharpened as he tried to pull himself back and found that he couldn't - bound by both the sigils and Haou's standing command to allow Desire to do as he willed that didn't interfere with any other commands. "No!" He could at least say that. Regardless of how it seemed true sometimes. He might not have been meant to be a tool, but plenty of people treated him like that.

Desire only chuckled and pulled him closer. "You were born to be used - and reborn to make it easier. You should stop fighting it."

And after that, Desire lived up to his name.

Vail had too much to do to spy on whatever it was Desire and Hell Kaiser were doing. He knew exactly what it was, after all. Desire made no bones about what he enjoyed doing. So instead of doing what he might have if it had been anyone else taking their pleasure with the vampire, he researched exactly what he would do after he'd had his pet vampire kill Haou.

It wouldn't be easy to do that, he knew. That was why he'd had the sigil-crafted collar made, to override Camula's control. Camula herself could override it if she stood there, but he'd seen to her. As tempting as it was to have her killed, doing so would release Hell Kaiser from her control, and he wanted nothing of that. A vampire needed to be controlled and used. They were undead beasts who pretended to life. Not at all like him. His pulse had never stopped. He'd never stopped drawing breath. He didn't need human blood - he just needed their souls.

I should have a good meal or two before I go to sleep. He needed normal food as much as anyone else did; his dining upon human souls merely kept him from dying. He considered his options, then had his guards bring him one of the captives he kept for just this purpose. Really, he would have to imprison more people for whatever crimes he could, if both he and Hell Kaiser were to feed off of them. He didn't need a good soul-meal as often as a vampire needed blood but unfortunately, it wasn't possible to share kills. Otherwise, the meals would have gone on farther.

Though he'd never actually tried to take someone's soul as they were being drained by his vampire. It might be worth testing out. He knew the perfect test subject as well - Haou himself. Just what would it be like to take the soul of the incarnate form of Dark Destruction? Vail licked his lips just at the thought of it.

He prodded his shock collars and pondered exactly who he should have Hell Kaiser duel. He had more than one option; it would all depend on who he thought was the most interesting. He had so many plans that pruning them down to the ones that had the best chance of success could take most of the coming week.

What matters most is finishing Haou off. After all this time, he doubted that Haou even remembered what he'd done to earn Vail's ire. Would he even remember how he'd come to be Brron's chief gladiator? Or did it remain on the dustheap of memory alongside everyone else that he'd murdered over the years.

Vail cheerfully admitted to himself that he didn't remember how many people he'd ended up killing himself. It all blended together after a while. He didn't think it mattered that much. Not when he would always need to kill more. The count would keep rising. Why keep track of it?

Lucifer put away the sphere and considered his options before he shook his head. As much as he would like to, now wasn't the time to inform Haou. By this time of evening, Haou would be in his bed, savoring the sweetness of his consort.

Something strange about that one, Lucifer mused, as he so often had since he'd first seen Johan Andersen in person. He couldn't quite put a finger on what made him strange, only that he was, and it felt oddly familiar, in a way that he'd not encountered in quite some time. It confused him and Lucifer didn't like to be confused.

But he would figure it out another time. It wasn't as if he could do anything to hurt Haou. Haou - Juudai - had gone out of his way to ensure that Johan had been broken quite thoroughly. He knew that his purpose wasn't to lead a rebellion or fight against Haou. He served to kill those whom Haou wished dead and to provide intimate pleasure for his master.

Truly, Juudai quite took after him. Lucifer approved thoroughly. He'd done much the same thing to Zerato so many years earlier. He remained a good, obedient servant as well, currently taking care of Lucifer's home castle.

When morning rolled around, Lucifer made a point to arrive in front of Haou as soon as he settled himself on his throne. He would have delivered the news at breakfast, but Haou never enjoyed doing business while he ate. So he'd kept himself confined to simply pleasantries during the meal.

"Lucifer?" Haou asked, eyebrow quirked up. "You have information?"

"Oh, I do. I heard from Desire last night. I didn't think it wise to interfere with your night, though." Lucifer chuckled softly, his wings twitching in pleasure. "It seems that Vail thinks he can use your vampire to take you out."

Haou remained where he was for a few moments, head tilted very lightly to one side. Finally he spoke. "Are you serous?"

"Very. Even better, so is he. He currently has collared Hell Kaiser and used sigil magic to keep him under control. Desire is going to stay there and keep an eye on him until next week, when Vail will send him back with orders to kill you."

Haou's lips twitched, eyes glittering golden. "Really."

"This is the most interesting part." Lucifer gestured briefly. "It seems he's crafted both collar and sigils so that only someone from a very specific family can break the collar. One that he believes no longer exists - and one that doesn't exist. I should know, I made sure to wipe it out myself."

He wasn't surprised to see acknowledgment dawning in Haou's eyes. He'd always been a bright one. "The Light of Creation."

"Exactly. Though Hope could do so as well. No one knows where that family line is right now." Lucifer shrugged. "Though knowing them, I'd not be surprised to find them in the rebellion."

Haous' fingers tightened on his throne for a few seconds before he turned to where Johan knelt, head down, awaiting for when his master needed him. He started to open his mouth, then shook his head.

"You wouldn't remember, would you?" He murmured, fingers going through Johan's hair for a few seconds. "You don't remember anything about the rebellion.”

"They're your enemies, and your enemies are my enemies," Johan replied at once, tilting his head a little, but not enough to move Haou's hand from his hair. "Is there anything else that I should know, Haou-sama?"

Haou smiled down at him, hand caressing the side of Johan's face. "Not at all. Don't worry yourself about it. I'll deal with it."

Lucifer didn't take his eyes off of Johan the entire time. The more he regarded Haou's consort, the more that strange sensation crept over him. The longer he looked, the more something began to look familiar. He'd never noticed it before, but now he began to suspect that was because he'd never truly looked at Johan with this in mind.

It had been a long time since he'd seen the features of someone who carried the Blood of the Light of Creation. He'd certainly not expected to see them kneeling at Haou's feet.

Slowly, he began to smile. "Haou-sama. I think I have some interesting news."

Awareness crept back over Ryou. He opened his eyes and saw Desire's wing remained tucked over him. He closed his eyes again and wondered if he would be allowed to feed today or not. Vail at least made sure that he didn't get too hungry, but it was getting so very close to the "celebration" when he'd be sent back to kill Haou. That meant food would be withheld so he'd be completely dry.

Desire's hand crept up his chest. "Awake, are we?" He murmured, sounding quite sated and pleased. He usually sounded like that after their activities earlier.

"Yes." Ryou knew if he didn't answer, Desire and Vail both would take pleasure in dragging the words out of him. He would at least not give them that satisfaction.

He wasn't surprised that Desire chuckled at that. His fingers sank into Ryou's hair and he tugged the vampire closer to him. "We'll be going back to Haou-sama soon. Won't that be amusing." That wasn't a question, so Ryou didn't have to answer it.

But he had been thinking about it regardless. He considered before he said anything. "Killing Haou isn't going to be that easy. He has Lucifer-sama and Johan - at the least. There's also the Death Duelists to consider." He chose his next words carefully. "Vail-sama thinks I can just be pointed at him, released, and no one will defend Haou-sama."

"I know he does. And that's what's going to make it even more amusing." Desire made himself quite comfortable, wing still folded around Ryou. "I've heard from Lucifer and Haou-sama. They're well aware of what's going on."

Ryou didn't find any comfort in that. He suspected that Haou's manner of dealing with this might well just be to bind him out in the sunlight or slam a wooden stake between his ribs. Or perhaps he could find a way to destroy the collar regardless of not being of the line of Light. He was Destruction, after all.

Desire nudged at him. "But they don't want me to tell you what they're planning. You'll find out when we return."

Of course. Not only were both of them overly dramatic, but it wouldn't be safe to let him know, since he would pass it on to Vail if he were asked. He did wonder if Vail would ever ask, but that might mean the dark sorcerer considered him capable of giving useful information. He doubted that would happen any time soon.

When they joined Vail in his favored chamber, Vail gestured towards Ryou. "Tomorrow night you're going to start back so you can kill Haou. Make it as painful as you can. I want to hear him scream - and I will be there to hear him scream."

Ryou made no gestures of acknowledgment but Vail continued as if he had. "Swallow every drop of his blood. Don't stop until he's dead. I'm going to take his soul at the same time."

Where Ryou knelt, he could see Desire. The Fallen Angel had restored his helmet and armor and when Vail said that, Ryou could see him twitch. Someone else would be laughing hysterically. Ryou thought he would have done the same thing.

He didn't want to trust Haou. He didn't have any reason to trust Haou. But he didn't have any choice. Haou knew he was coming and knew that Vail wanted to kill him. Haou wasn't the type to just die. Ryou's life wasn't that good. Or his undeath. Whatever.

By the time Vail looked up again, Desire composed himself perfectly. Ryou wouldn't have been surprised if he had a smirk on under the helmet, but it wasn't possible to tell.

"Would you join me?" Vail wanted to know. "I'm certain I can find a use for you once I've claimed Haou's realm for my own."

"I don't doubt it for a moment," Desire replied, voice absolutely calm. "And I would be quite honored to see this."

Ryou closed his eyes. He hadn't been looking forward to this 'celebration' at all. This wasn't making it any better.

The trip back to Haou's castle was indeed different from the trip out. Ryou couldn't travel as quickly as he did on his own, nor did Desire. Vail loaded them both into his personal carriage and they all rattled along ill-kept roads. The carriage had been enchanted to not only have all the necessary room, but to keep the sunlight out during the day. This allowed them to travel when normally they would have to rest. No horses or oxen pulled the carriage, but it rumbled along all on its own. There was a coachman at the front who guided them along the road with gestures of his hands but nothing more.

Ryou appreciated one thing about this trip - it meant Desire wasn't going to have the chance to bed him again. He suspected if Vail wanted to, they could have stopped somewhere, taken rooms at an inn, and matters would proceed as they normally did when Desire was around. Thankfully Vail didn't do that. They did take short breaks for Desire and Vail to spread out a blanket in a sunny area, feasting on the supplies Vail brought along, while Ryou remained in the carriage by himself. That didn't bother him. He enjoyed the time by himself.

Being in the carriage alone also allowed for Cyber Dragon to be there with him. Now that they'd begun to speak again, the spirit stayed close by no matter what. Ryou couldn't say much; he didn't want Vail or Desire to figure out what he was doing and prevent him from having that tiny connection. He didn't want to think about what Haou might do when - not if - he ever found out. But he took the time to enjoy it while he could.

Great silver scales snuggled close to him, Cyber Dragon's head resting next to his. He didn't close his eyes, not wanting to miss a moment of this. He didn't think he'd been this comfortable in years - three of them, in fact. Probably more. He'd certainly never been comfortable during his living torment by Haou.

We will be there for you, Cyber Dragon reassured him. Do you trust us?

Ryou tilted his head. He kept most of his responses to gestures when he could; much better than to risk being heard. Cyber Dragon pressed harder against him.

Good. Cyber Dragon sounded extremely satisfied before fading out of sight. Moments later the door to the carriage swung open and Desire entered, followed by Vail. Desire glanced at Ryou, and while his expression couldn't be seen, Ryou wondered if he'd somehow become aware of Cyber Dragon's presence. If he was, he said nothing about it as he settled beside Ryou, tucking one scarlet wing around him.

Ryou fell back into total silence, wondering what the Cyber Dragons and Cyberdarks had in mind. He couldn't do much else. The sigils on the collar made that impossible. The sigils that had first bound him weren't in effect now. Vail apparently didn't think them worth the effort, not with Desire there to keep Ryou in check as well.

None of Haou's guards seemed to think there was anything to worry about when Vail's carriage arrived at the palace. The celebration already seemed to be in full swing as they entered, with music and feasting filling the air. Ryou could feel the nervous tension in the air regardless - something wasn't right somewhere and he didn't know what it was.

Desire pressed his fingers onto his shoulder, hard enough that it would have left bruises in mortal flesh. "Let's go. The show is about to begin."

Unable to stop himself, Ryou moved forward, just slightly behind Vail as the other strutted his way to where Haou sat on his throne. Johan knelt in his usual place beside him and Lucifer stood to one side. Ryou noticed a fading bruise on Johan's cheek and wondered if Haou had been more enthusiastic than usual. He didn't usually bruise Johan these days, though Ryou had heard that during Johan's initial training, he'd been covered with them.

"Haou," Vail addressed the name with mockery edging his voice. "It has been a very long time since I saw you last. You've come up quite far in the word since then."

"Vail." Haou uttered the word calmly. "Or I suppose I could call you Saruyama." He said it in a way that shaped the word as a weapon. Vail hissed ever so softly.

"I would prefer if you didn't." Vail waved one hand. "But we can discuss names some other time. I've quite enjoyed having the vampire with me the last few days. So did Fallen Angel Desire, in fact."

Haou snorted. "I don't doubt that at all. Now if you intend to attend, then step aside, remove that rather admittedly attractive collar from my vampire, and go get something to eat. You have five seconds to comply before I lose my patience."

Vail stared until he started to laugh, shaking his head. "You don't even understand. You're still the same foolish boy that you were all those years ago. Let me demonstrate what I can do. Hell Kaiser Marufuji Ryou, fulfill the orders that I have given you." He stepped aside with a flourish of his black cape, and Ryou started to take a step forward. He hadn't fed in a day and a half by now and while he still had some control over his mind, he remained aware that there was blood not that far away and he only needed to reach it to have it.

He shifted the weight off of his feet and flitted forward as quick as he could, despite the inner scream that told him his target was Haou-sama, that he couldn't do this, his body wasn't allowed to hurt his master, and at the same time he couldn't stop himself.

The roar came from his deck. Cyber End Dragon and Cyberdark Dragon flashed out, Cyber End coiling all around Ryou and holding him into place, so that he couldn't take another step towards Haou. Cyberdark Dragon lashed their tail at Vail, knocking him down and then coiling their dark-scaled tail around him, wings spread and fangs snapping threateningly.

Cyber End raised all three heads towards Haou. "Even we cannot hold him forever, so long as the collar binds him. Find a way to remove it!"

"I already have." Haou replied, far more pleasure in his voice than Ryou would have wanted to hear under any other circumstances. He tapped Johan on the shoulder. "Do it."

Ryou had no idea of what Haou had in mind, until Johan stood up and walked over to him. He barely even seemed to notice the spirits holding Ryou into place. He did step around Cyber End Dragon's tail carefully but he didn't look the metallic dragon in the faces. All of his attention was on Ryou. He reached up and laid the tips of his fingers on the collar, then slid them under the lock and tugged a little. The lock came open at once, and Johan pulled the collar away, going back over to Haou.

Slowly Cyber End Dragon released Ryou, taking a position up by him. Cyberdark didn't move from where they held Vail, and no matter how he struggled, with Cyber Phoenix hovering overhead, there wasn't anything that he could do to stop them. Ryou didn't need to breathe but he took a deep one regardless. He'd never thought he would be so grateful to Haou, let alone to Johan as he was now.

Haou took the collar and examined it as Johan sank back down to his knees, clearly pleased that he'd satisfied his master's orders. Haou rewarded him with a hand on his head for a few moments, then tightened his other hand around the collar. A column of thick darkness rose up from his hand around it, and with a tiny snap only dust and ashes remained.

"An amusing trick, but did you really think that I couldn’t counter this?" Haou turned his attention to Vail, who looked fit to explode from rage. "I could have told you - my vampire belongs to me. He cannot harm me, even if he wanted to."

Ryou hated to think of how true that was. He also hated the thought of the Cyber Dragons having to live under Haou's rule as he did now. But he could feel all of them not caring.

"Now, what to do with you," Haou mused. Vail thrashed in Cyberdark Dragon's grip and snapped towards Desire.

"You would serve me!? Then destroy them! Destroy all of them! Now! I command it!"

Desire didn't so much as twitch a wing. Instead, he turned to Haou. "Lucifer informed me that if I provided interesting information as to Hell Kaiser's whereabouts, I'd have him in my bed for a month. Is this true?"

"Of course." Haou waved one hand. "Starting after the celebration, you may do with him as you please."

That didn't surprise Ryou. At this point in his undeath, not much would have. He didn't care that much. He had the spirits of his deck back. That mattered a great deal more than anything that might happen to his body.

But now Haou regarded Vail carefully. Ryou noticed his attention also slipped around to Cyber End Dragon and Cyberdark Dragon. But most of his focus remained on Vail. Finally he spoke.

"Hell Kaiser."

At once Ryou straightened up. He knew that tone - he was about to feed. He knew who he'd feed on; he knew far too much about Haou thought.

"Haou-sama." After the last week, he uttered the title with just a trifle more pleasure than he ever had any time he'd addressed Vail.

"How often did Vail allow you to feed this past week?" Haou raised one hand before Ryou spoke. "In fact, tell me everything that happened this entire week."

Ryou at once started to talk. He related about how he'd gone there to kill Vail in the first place and had intended to bring some of Vail's treasure to Haou as the gift he'd wanted. He told about the sigils binding him and exactly what Vail did until Desire showed up, and afterward. He left nothing at all out.

"Desire?" Haou asked, one eyebrow quirked upward. "Is this all true?"

"Yes, it is," Desire agreed, admiring the spread of his own wings. "Though I could go into more detail on exactly what we did. If you'd like, of course." Ryou suspected one of those insufferably smug grins existed under his helmet.

"I'll consider that for another time," Haou decided before looking back to Ryou. "Drain him dry. Make it as painful as you possibly can for him. I want to hear his screams. I want everyone to hear his screams. That is the treasure I desire."

Ryou didn't hesitate for a moment. Cyberdark Dragon dragged Vail over to him and held him in place as Ryou grabbed onto the dark sorcerer's shoulders. The other babbled, but none of it made any sense. It seldom did when Ryou fed. He sank his fangs deep into Vail's neck, the sweet taste of the blood coursing down his throat. His grip tightened on the shoulders and Cyberdark Dragon slowly released Vail as Ryou fed and Vail's strength failed him. The sorcerer batted at Ryou's hands feebly, but no matter how hard he tried, he could do nothing. The screams that echoed off of the walls soon faded away, and Ryou continued to feed, fulfilling the command - not a single drop of blood to be left.

He didn't normally feed that much off of one person. Feeding smaller amounts off of many different people kept deaths to a minimum. So when he bled someone dry, it was usually because Haou wanted him to do so. He kept on sucking, finally stopping and letting the body drop to the floor.

"I had intended for you to feed off of the captives that my Death Duelists brought back," Haou said, once Ryou had recovered enough from his feeding to focus on what was being said. He gestured to a corner where five people huddled, wrapped in chains, terrified expressions plain. Ryou glanced from one of them to another, checking.

Not his brother. Not Shou.

Not his friend. Not Fubuki.

Not his lover. Not Yuusuke.

Not Edo or Saiou or Asuka or anyone else that he knew from the rebellion. If these were rebels - and he couldn't even be sure that they were - then they weren't ones that he'd known. The way they existed in small cells of ten or twenty in each enclave helped with that. But he returned his attention to Haou, who smiled a devil's smile.

"A little much for you right now, though. So you'll feed off of them once a night until they've given you all that they can - and until I have no further use for them."

Ryou nodded. A small flicker of gratitude existed that no one he cared for was in this bunch. He would have preferred it if it consisted of people more like Vail than innocents, but when he couldn't choose his own prey, then he had to deal with what he was allowed.

Haou glanced at Lucifer. "Is the army ready to move in?"

"Of course." Lucifer nodded. "Would you like me to deal with it?"

"Yes. Let me know when you've taken it all." Haou dismissed him with a wave of one hand and Lucifer headed out quickly. He smiled in satisfaction, leaning back on his throne, before he looked at Ryou again. "Vail's realm will now belong to me. Lucifer is taking in my army to deal with any resistance.

That made horrible sense. Ryou suspected there would be people who fled there and went on to join the rebellion. It happened like that everywhere. Haou moved in and those who didn't want him as their lord fled to join those who fought against him. Some of them ended up as his dinner or as Haou's slaves or who knew what else.

None of that seemed to matter to Haou right now. He watched as other servants carried the body away, and Cyberdark Dragon joined Cyber End Dragon beside Ryou.

"How pleasant to see you all again," Haou said, this time addressing the spirits directly. "I thought you would have abandoned Hell Kaiser when he died."

"We would never do that." Cyberdark Dragon hissed, dark scales gleaming in the enchanted light, tail twitching. "He did not call for us. We must be called."

Haou's lips quirked. "Of course. I should have known." He rested one hand under his chin, the other playing with Johan's hair. "I might allow him to duel again. And I believe Vail had something interesting in those shock collars - I might have to check into those."

Ryou didn't look forward to that. Something else had his attention regardless. He shifted briefly and Haou glanced at him, one eyebrow cocking.

"You have something to say, Hell Kaiser?" Haou wanted to know.

"How did Johan get the collar off me?" Ryou wanted to know. "Only the blood of the Light could do it." The sigils had been very clear. Even worse, Vail had been very smug about that fact. It shouldn't have been possible.

Haou's hand didn't leave Johan's head. "Because it seems that my precious toy here is of the Blood of the Creation's Light. He never knew himself. But it seems when Lucifer destroyed Norbu all those years ago, he and his siblings were taken away to be kept safe." Haou chuckled a little. "How fascinating that he ended up with me. And his siblings are still out there somewhere."

He kept on stroking slowly. Johan closed his eyes and keened, a low pleasure-filled sound. "That is going to be one of your tasks - to find Yubel and Rune Andersen, and bring them here to me. Unharmed."

Ryou nodded. He wondered how he was going to do that. Before he could ask for any further information, Haou waved a hand towards Desire, who'd patiently waited all this time.

"Feel free to retire and enjoy yourself," he told the Fallen Angel. "He won't be on duty until the month is over with, except for feeding."

Desire had one arm around Ryou's shoulders a breath later. Cyber End Dragon and Cyberdark Dragon both faded from view, though Ryou could feel them watching. He wanted them to know that it didn't matter; he'd dealt with this before. Cyberdark didn't seem very happy about it regardless. But they said nothing else. It seemed Haou would allow them to remain.

"Thank you, Haou-sama." Desire guided Ryou away, and Ryou wondered if his spirits could take a message to Yuusuke, or bring one back. No, probably not. He wasn't allowed to communicate in any way with the rebellion. At least not deliberately. Accidents could happen. But sending his spirits out deliberately wasn't allowed.

But thinking about Yuusuke made what came over the next month, and what came after, much more bearable.

The End

Notes: There are other scenes I could have put in here but they didn’t quite fit with everything. Remember, Johan will only be bruised if Haou decides that he will be. So why is Johan bruised? Exactly what happened between Lucifer, Juudai, and Johan? I know. And one day, I’ll tell you.

#fanfic #higuchimon writes #ygo gx #marufuji ryou #yuuki juudai #chapters: desired disobedience #au: reversal

3 notes · View notes

so-cool-day6 · 4 years

Text

Dreams Do Come True [M]

tags|smut, wet dreams, blowjobs, yeosang being an angel, literally just giving yeosang oral

[8:23 AM]You’ve been up for the past 30 minutes, getting ready and making breakfast for you and your boyfriend. Now, you're happily skipping towards the bedroom to wake Yeosang and tell him his food is ready.

But just before you enter the room, there’s a single sound that makes you stop in your tracks and raise a brow.

It starts off as a simple whimper, but after listening closely, you conclude that there’s panting mixed in as well. For a moment, you try to decide if it’s a good idea to walk in, but you shake it off and say of course it is. For all you know, he could be having a bad dream and needs a sweet kiss to wake him up.

Lightly pushing open the door, you're met with a painfully angelic sight. There’s Yeosang, laying on the bed with his messy hair that still managed to look perfect, his face scrunched up in concentration while sweat begins to form on his forehead. His hips are thrusting into nothing as he’s trying desperately to gain any friction.

You wonder what he’s doing, humping nothing under the covers. “Yeosang?” you call out to him, but he doesn’t respond. He only continues to thrust into the air and let delicate whimpers leave his plump, quivering lips.

That's when you realize that he's still asleep. You almost coo at how cute he is. Poor baby is having a wet dream, you quietly chuckle to yourself.

It looks like he’s struggling. What to do with him... An idea pops into your mind. But is it an idea you should do? The food will get cold soon and won't be nearly as good. On the other hand, there's no harm in letting it go cold when you're helping your boyfriend with his little problem.

Sneakily, you tiptoe towards the end of the bed. And just as silently, you lift the covers and crawl through. The sun provides enough light through the window that you can see everything underneath. As soon as you're laying on your stomach, over his legs, you’re face to face with something rather prominent.

Yeosang’s hard on is straining in his gym shorts. Slowly, you reach for the elastic band that clings to his hips. For a second, he jerks at the unfamiliar touch, but he calms again soon after and goes back to shifting uncomfortably in his shorts.

Sliding down his waistband midway down his thighs, you can see the outline of him nicely in his briefs. There’s a small wet spot at just the tip, which brings a smile to your lips. Seeing the way his cock slides up and down in his briefs makes you want to get to work right away. So you do.

First, it’s a poke and immediately, his breath hitches. Then it’s another poke, and your finger glides gently up and down him. Above you, Yeosang’s whine sounds like heaven. Sometimes it’s hard to believe that you’ve managed to end up with someone who’s the entity of everything light and beautiful.

Your craving mind demands that you look at the angel himself. For a second, you lift the blanket to get a glimpse of him, and you’re glad you did. Everything from his messy bed head to the heavy rise and fall of his chest makes you melt. The way his needy expression sends all sorts of tingles around your body reminds that you have a job to do. You scan him one last time before letting the cover fall over you again.

No time is wasted anymore. As smoothly, and as desperately, as you can, you pull his briefs down enough to allow for his member to pop out. It hits against his stomach, and he stirs more from his dream. You take a hold of his cock with one hand and admire it.

Is it possible for a dick to be so pretty? Because his is beautiful like the rest of him. It’s pretty pink tip spouts precum and drips down his shaft.

You wipe a thumb over the head and he jerks at the contact. You almost swear that you heard him mutter, “Please,” but it could’ve been your imagination, but you wish it's not. And to hopefully confirm your suspicions, you rub around the head again, spreading the precum around, making it easier to move. But instead of being met with words, you’re met with more precious noises from your lover.

You’re still for a second, listening to find out if he’s awake yet. However, he’s still breathing slowly and whimpering quietly. Eventually, you lean in and give him an experimental lick. His mouth twitches open as he gasps. The sound alone is enough to keep you going.

Another lick turns into multiple flicks of your tongue against him. Yeosang jerks up, nearly hitting you in the face, but you’re quick to move out of the way. A lovely rushed moan escapes his lips and blesses your ears for the first time that morning. You’re so pleased by it, that you could only hope for more. So you were going to work for it.

You flatten your tongue on the base of his cock and leisurely drag your tongue all the way back up to his tip. Once you reach the head again, you teasingly press your lips against it. Within less than a second, your mouth falls over him and takes him in at once.

There’s a pleasant gasp above you followed by another moan. Yeosang’s eyes snap open at the abrupt sensation. He’s barely woken up, and he’s already trying to catch his breath. Though, it’s difficult to even do that when there are diverting tingles going up and down his body for unknown reasons. He hasn’t fully processed his surroundings until he struggles to hold in a groan.

Quickly, he lifts the covers off of him to see a sight that has his eyes lust-filled instantly. There you were, the little demon, Y/n, who was currently sucking him awake and raising him from the land of wet dreams and make-believe.

He almost feels embarrassed at the thought of it. He remembers every single detail of his dream, from the sweet hurried kisses to you hovering above him and riding him like your life depended on it. He must’ve been acting it or something, and that alone made his cheeks tinge darker than before.

But god, if he isn’t thankful for it.

Just as you take him in all the way again, Yeosang’s hand instinctively reaches out and threads itself with your hair. Your gaze snaps up to him at once and you stare at him with dark hooded eyes. He stares back with his mouth hanging open. His hand subtly pushes you down, making you stay in your place with his cock down your throat.

For the briefest second, you think you’re going to gag at the lack of oxygen, but he lets up a moment later. After you come back, there’s a devilish smirk placed on your lips, “You know… I have breakfast ready,” you draw out.

He’s still gasping from how much damage you’ve done to him. He’s so weak for you, even in his dreams, even in his sleep. “So?” he asks, out of breath and face painted pink, almost matching his bed head.

“Sooo, do you want to eat?” you asked, your tone high and serious. However, you already know the answer. It's just fun to tease him.

Yeosang furrows his brows as he utters a simple answer, “Fuck no. You feel too good.” Those few words were enough to bring you back to him. It’s occasional, but when he swears, it makes you want to ruin him even further. You plan on keeping that silent promise as Electric shocks tingle down your body and straight to your heat.

Promptly, you wrap your lips around the head and fill your mouth with only him again. Him, the only person you want to be with. Him, the love of your life. Him, who is writhing beneath you. Electric shocks tingled down your body and straight to your heat.

The more you sucked and licked, the more desperate both of you become. Him, wanting to cum. And you, wanting him to cum and doing something about your own little problem.

His fingers fiddled with random strands of your hair, tugging each time your tongue goes down the side of his cock. Yeosang mutters curses and whimpers praises, "God, you feel so good. I l-love you- jesus!" every time he speaks, he's interrupted by his own moan spilling out of his mouth like an endless sea.

He thrusts into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat multiple times, and almost making you gag once again. You hold down his thighs so you can take it at your own pace and take your time pleasuring him. Though he still gently rocked into your mouth, he wasn't nearly as sporadic as he was before you took charge.

"Y/n, I'm so close," he whispers a warning, a secret between lovers. His eyes are squeezed shut as excitedly searches for his release that's been tormenting him all morning. His lips fall open continuously to let in the air and to let out his feelings of desire.

Your gaze lingers on his features, admiring each and every single detail. To think you were just going to wake him and eat breakfast with him, seems like a choice only an idiot would make. You much rather have your breakfast in bed, with Yeosang being the full course meal.

You don't say anything to him, you just continue to suck harder and move faster to bring him closer and closer to the edge. And when you feel him tense under your touch and twitch in your mouth, you move even quicker.

Yeosang's head falls back into the pillows, harder than before. Spontaneous moans flow through his lips while spurts of his cum fill your mouth and cover your tongue entirely. Shocks are sent up his spine and the sweet release he's been craving finally comes.

Watching him squirm during his orgasm makes the wetness in your own pants soak through your underwear. You rub your thighs together hoping to satisfy that undying need for him that's been possessing you for the past few minutes. But it's barely enough for you.

After he comes down from his high, he’s catching his breath and relishing in the moment. You finally release him with a pop of your lips. You lay there, looking up at him, both in longing and admiration. But you’re a patient person, so you wait.

Once his breathing calms down, he glances back down to you and sees your eager eyes staring back at him. There’s a glint of pride and need in them that he notices. Yeosang lifts his head and he holds his arms out lazily for you, “C’mere.”

You happily oblige and crawl into his arms and cuddle into him. He strokes your hair for a moment, then he makes you face him again. There’s a small smile on his face, “You did so well, sweetheart, waking me up like that,” he compliments. Licking his dry lips, he continues, “Do you think I should return the favor?” There’s a hint of something in his voice that sends shivers down your spine.

Impatiently, you nod, “Please,” you whisper. The constant reminder that you need him in your pants is currently dripping. Forget about breakfast. Forget getting ready for the day. Forget everything else. Because he’s the only thing that’s on your mind, and he’ll be sure to remind you that.

“Okay sweetheart, get on all fours for me,” he commands. You’ve never been so quick to move before.

#ateez #yeosang #ateez smut #kpop smut #yeosang smut #ateez reactions #ateez imagines #kpop reactions #kpop imagines

218 notes · View notes

zombiesun · 3 years

Note

hi! i hope you're doing well :) i'm not sure if you've been asked this before or if you're comfortable with sharing it... may i ask how you started your spiritual journey, how you found what works for you in terms of practices, etc and what advice you would give to someone who's just getting started in figuring all of this out? ofc i know it's very subjective and personal, so i hope this isn't too invasive... if so pls delete this. i guess i just find you inspiring in a sense & i like the way you talk about these things. anyway, i hope you have a good day and i wish you luck with everything <3

I am doing well! I had a rather lovely day today. I have been asked this a few times before but it was a few months back and I’m sure those asks are buried deep within the tags. I’m making this a read more because it’s a long story which will be made longer with my advice.

I think my spiritual journey started in many individual ways that eventually converged together to create the path I’m on now. The first is that my mother has the gift of intuition, something that was passed onto me. One of my earliest memories is her sitting me down as a nine year old and telling me “you’re always going to know more about people then they will know about you. you will never lack in people wanting what you have to give, but you always be alone.” which was a really terrifying thing to be told so young and something that haunted me for years as it was proven to be true. I didn’t see it as magic, my mother considered it a spiritual gift and I shelved it away because it didn’t feel much like a gift.

I collected crystals and strange objects I found. I made shrines on my shelves and when I was nineteen, I made my first altar but it wasn’t to any particular deity I just felt drawn to make one. I’ve always felt a really strong connection to the Greek goddess Hestia ever since I was a child and even though I didn’t worship her I did feel a pull to honor her and sometimes pray to her. I was raised by an extreme fundamentalist and a reformed Jewish woman, my childhood was a strange marriage of the two. I had an antagonistic relationship with G-d and the church but a deep longing for spirituality. I bought tarot readings and denied them and resented people who could connect to things that I couldn’t see. One of my closest friends in high school was an aura reader and would message me when my energy shifted from furious reds to depressing blues to ask if I was okay. She told me there was a place within my mind that imitated the inside of a cathedral with dripping white candles from floor to ceiling and me in the middle glaring and wordlessly demanding her to step away from something private.

The first magic I did was creating sigils. I don’t remember where I learned how to do them but I would draw them out on a leather bound journal with the tree of life stamped on it that a friend had gotten me from a caravan in Utah. I would make them when I was sitting listlessly in church services manifesting changes that seemed impossible but would soon create a strange timeline in my life. I moved to Portland and went on a date with my then partner and showed them how to create one that they would hang over their bed and then I taught a class to my clients and they all drew them out creating small little futures. Many of them were witches and we did ceremonies under the full moon, every night we would go out to the garden and burn incense and herb bundles (once, a full wheelbarrow of dried grass) cleansing out the dark energy that clung to that place and manifesting quietly for a better future.

I moved away to join AmeriCorp and fell into a spiritual emptiness. I taught myself the Hebrew alphabet with the intent to learn how to pray in my mother’s language. I had a team leader who could read energy and see the true selves of people and told me I was suspended in darkness and that she could only barely see a sliver of light. I had never met someone who could see me so clearly and she made me want to see clearly again too. After I graduated I moved back in with my parents and bought my first tarot deck. Well, I told the universe that I didn’t want to spend money on a tarot deck/altar and if they wanted me to have one then it would have to provide. I worked at a thrift store and found a pack of cards in a bin of clothes I was sorting and bought them for less than two dollars and then on a walk found a tree struck by lighting. There was a ring of of wood that was almost fully off that acted as perfect altar base, a badger skull, a perfect crescent shaped piece of food, and charred piece of bar that twisted into itself like an offering bowl. I took them all and as I walked home crows circled around me and rain fell over me but not behind or in front of me. It was probably one of the most magical experiences of my life.

I moved in with a practicing tarot reader and witch and lived with her for a year. She taught me many things, but most importantly how to exist with magic in an ordinary way. I studied magic for a year, taught myself different forms of divination, started selling my readings after months of doing my own, and started seriously doing deity work. I didn’t work for the majority of 2020 and focused almost solely on magic and inner work. When I moved out, I continued to do the same, focusing more on the magical and emotional world then the physical. I embodied the Hermit, cut off unhealthy connections, delved selfishly into my personal world and hoarded my energy and time so I could fill it with more knowledge and more knowing. It was incredible and difficult. I tested the universe many times and was always provided for.

You are correct, spiritual paths are very personal and subjective and mine is as individual as yours will be. My advice is this: figure out what draws you to spirituality and pursue it. It’s a serious practice, I am not one for spell jars or herbs or collecting hundreds of magical tools. You don’t need much to do magic, just time and patience. I also always say this in questions but do SHADOW WORK. It’s important to know thyself when you’re dealing with a practice that is heavily influenced by your own energy and self assurance. I would start out small, I got into tarot first, then other forms of divination, then manifestation work. I also would suggest learning how to ground, protect, how to draw/close a circle, meditation, and how to communicate with your understanding of the universe (signs and symbols, angel numbers, etc.) I know that’s pretty vague but my experience in craft was just....following my impulses until it got somewhere. There really isn’t a perfect, set way to get into this practice outside of self trust and understanding. You already know what you want to do, what draws you to it, what makes you curious about magic. Follow that. I wish you the best of luck.

#mailbox #anoncore #divination station #witchcraft #vb #this is a very personal answer #lots of info dumping hope u enjoyed that haha #Anonymous

3 notes · View notes

thesunandseonghwa · 4 years

Text

Shadows and Angels | Part One

chan x reader | changbin x reader

warnings: violence, being drugged.

genre: angst, kinda fluff idk?

1.7k words

i sincerely hope this is decent, this is literally my first fic ever lmao.

see here for glossary of starred terms

masterlist

You didn't know why you were here, it was noisy and the flashing neon lights had begun to give you a killer headache. You sat at the bar, looking over at your best friend who seemed to be having the time of her life every so often. Your best friend had insisted on going to this party, supposedly she had been invited by some other friends of hers but something about the place made you uneasy. It was just a regular club as far as you could tell and you had convinced yourself you were just being paranoid but you could of sworn you had seen some strange things about the people here.

Bright yellow cat eyes on a guy in a jacket covered in glitter, a women with a spiked tail trailing behind her through the slit in the back of her red dress.

You had probably just had too much to drink or the lights had to be playing tricks on you. Nevertheless, you still felt on edge.

You turned your head as you felt a tug on your shoulder, "Come with me to the bathroom, I need to pee!"

Your best friend laughed as she tugged on you to come along, you stood up from your seat to follow after her. You surprised yourself when your head instantly felt like a thousand tons and your vision blurred in front of you, you shook your head trying to take one step in front of the other but you couldn't and your best friend was quickly fading away into the throngs of people. You tried to call out to her but it was impossible to hear you over the deafening music.

Your drink, it must have been drugged by someone you thought, as you felt your knees buckle under you. You were sure your head was about to hit the floor but a strange man came to support you before you fall. Lifting your feet off the ground and walking on,

You didn't know if this person was your saviour or a nightmare because you could no longer hold on.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

"I told you going to this rave was going to be useless, Changbin," Chan rolled his eyes at his parabatai, they were surrounded by downworlders* but not the right downworlder. Not the ones he knew Changbin was looking for.

The two of them were no stranger to downworlder raves but Chan knew a lost cause when he saw one, "Hey man, I know you're struggling but this isn't how we're going to avenge your father,"

Chan put his hand on Changbin's shoulder, he could feel the unease in him. The unrelenting anger and frustration too and Chan felt it too.

Changbin's father had died nearly a year ago. A few years prior to his death, he had become addicted to a substance called Yin Fen*. His father ultimately succumbed to his addiction. Once you had built a dependency on Yin Fen, you could either stop taking it and die or continue to take it and slowly die. It was a lose-lose situation if you were to put it in extremely insensitive terms. His father had been killed by downworlders, presumably vampires as he gone to them quite frequently to procure more Yin Fen however this time, the vampires he had gone too were not willing to bargain. The accords* could not protect him, these vampires were not like the others. They were Downworlders that did not care for the accords. They were rogues in a sense, hellbent on causing as much trouble as they could for the Nephilim. They hated the accords and shadowhunters alike.

Changbin's father like his son had been a shadowhunter. A shadowhunter who had ended up tangled with the wrong crowd after the death of Changbin's mother. This 'crowd' had been the reason why his father's addiction began. Chan knew the way Changbin felt about finding the people that had killed his father, they had spent the past few months tracking down each and every person that had any connection to his father's addiction and ultimate murder as instructed by the head of their institute.

They had been tracking one of the vampires but the trail has gone cold, trying to find one vampire at a downworlder rave was like trying to find one specific needle in a stack of other similar looking needles. It was difficult to differentiate thus making it even more difficult to find.

Chan tried to block out the deafening hum of the music as Changbin leaned closer to say something to him, "I think I found our vampires,"

Chan followed Changbin's gaze to see two men, skin pale as night, carrying what looked to be a mundane* girl between them. Her arms were slung over the one vampire's shoulder, her feet dragging on the floor.

They followed the vampires out the back door into a dark alley just behind the club, Changbin flanking them

"If you could just leave the mundane alone, we'd like to talk," Changbin said, his Seraph* blade a few centimeters shy from the vampire's heart. A smile graced his features, one Chan knew well but nevertheless one that scared him sometimes. It was almost like he enjoyed this, in a way it was almost like revenge.

"You have no business here, Shadowhunters," The other vampire hissed,

"We just want to ask you some questions about-" Chan wasn't able to finish his sentence as the vampire made a lunge for him. Chan dodged with a quick tuck and roll. He steeled himself for a battle but when he looked again, they were gone with the wind at a pace neither him or Changbin could follow.

The girl no longer supported by the vampire had slid to floor in a heap. Right now, he shouldn't worry about a randon mundane's possible concussion but it unfortunately cross his mind. He wasn’t evil, a concussion and a hangover was just cruel and not to mention the come-down from whatever the vampires had drugged her with

"So, what are we supposed to do with this problem?" Changbin said gesturing toward the girl on the floor.

"I-I'm not anyone's problemmm, pretty boy!" The girl suddenly interjected, her voice slurring.

"She can see you? She can see us?" Changbin's eyebrows knitted together as he spoke, clearly perplexed. Chan didn't have to say it, he felt the same.

"She has the sight*," Chan said, bending down to the girl’s height. He propped her up against the nearby wall. He did feel sort of bad for treating her like a sack of potatoes but he didn’t have much choice.

“What are we supposed to do with her then, Chan?” Changbin muttered, clearly annoyed about losing the vampires, “She could be just a mundane for all we know?”

“A mundane with the sight that’s not exactly common is it?” Chan chose to ignore his parabatai’s attitude, he shook the girl’s shoulder

Her eyes fluttered open for a few seconds, she reached a hand out seemingly to touch his face. It was almost like she was trying to make sure he was real. Chan found himself gazing at her with a softness he didn’t know he had in him. Her fingers brushed his cheek softly, “You’re not an angel, right? I’m not dead?”

“Close but no,” He laughed, his attention was drawn by the sound of the backdoor scraping open,

The girl’s hazy eyes drifted to the newcomer, her hand dropping to the floor, she tried to stand, “Miya!”

“y\n?!” The newcomer’s eyes darkened to black as she saw the boys, “Nephilim, what has dragged you down here?”

“Nephilim? Miya, what are you talking about?” Y/n answered, attempting to make her way to her supposed friend. Chan took a step in front of her, him and his parabatai drawing their Seraph blades. The glow of their blades lighting up the dark back alley. It felt good to stand ready with his parabatai at his side. He didn’t know what this girl was but he felt the need to protect her.

Chan exchanged knowing looks with Changbin, this newcomer was a shape-shifting demon no doubt about it. One they had been tracking, nonetheless. A scream ripped from the supposedly mundane girl as her ‘friend’ Miya took her true form. The skin of her face ripping open to reveal a grotesque animal-like face, the human body ripping apart to reveal a disgusting demon body fit with several arms.

Chan and Changbin advanced, they were always fierce fighters on their own but together, they were almost unstoppable. The demon hadn’t stood a chance, it’s body dissipating into nothingness as their blades cleaved cleanly through it. A fine layer of demon blood splurging out, Changbin wiped his blade off on his sleeve, “So, what are we doing with the girl? I think she’s gone into shock,”

“You’re killers!” The girl backed up against the wall, holding herself. She was shivering and he wasn’t sure if it was the shock of what had just happened or the cold. Most likely the former rather than the latter.

“Listen, I can explain everything to you but I need you to come with us, somewhere safe,” Chan said, slipping his blade back into it’s place on his belt.

“Why should I trust you! You just killed my-” She cut herself off,

“Obviously that wasn’t your best friend or girlfriend or whatever,” Changbin huffed, running his hand through his dark hair,

Chan shot the boy a look, “Bin, cool it with the attitude please?”

Changbin glared at him, Chan turned his attention back to the girl, “Y/N?”

Her eyes, pupils shot wide looked to him. The fear in her eyes was there but she was trying not to let it show, “That’s your name, right? Mine is Chan and this is Changbin, we’re protectors of a sort and your friend, Miya was a demon,”

“So you’re like ghostbusters for demons or something?” She said, her back was still flush against the brick wall, “What the hell is all of this, none of this makes sense!”

“I promise we’ll both explain everything but now we need to get to somewhere safe, you can trust us,” Chan mustered up a smile, reaching a hand out to her.

She seemed to mull over her options before she stood up straight and after some time she took his hand, “Fine, I’ll go with you,”

“Bin, you getting the car or?” Chan asked,

“I have a bad feeling about this and Jihyo is not going to be happy with you for bringing a mundane into the institute,”

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

I hope you liked it, thank you for reading!

part two is coming soon. I really appreciate any and all feedback <3

#stray kids #stray kids au #stray kids fic #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids shadowhunter au #bangchan au #changbin au #skz au #skz aus

32 notes · View notes

flatfootmonster · 4 years

Text

(I have been in a writing funk so I wanted to put some stuff that I've been writing out there so ya'll know I'm fucken trying...)

Skin

Every notion I hold that brings some imagined form of embarrassment he bypasses. Even in this, in our skin. He’s seen me bare, ran a cloth over every part of me without having any effect on his stoic exterior. Strong arms held me, calm words soothed—and I let them. Mostly I’m unfazed by our bareness if I don’t dwell on it.

My feet have grown complacent with the foundation that we’re discovering. breathing easily as we lay here—sheets, towels, and skin. It’s quiet for once. Seconds and minutes seem to sparkle like dust in the evening light. We could be anywhere, as long as we are like this there’s peace and contentment.

It’s just us.

I’m getting used to this and I know that’s dangerous, but my grip seems to have loosed on control. I stopped fighting the tide.

Rolling onto my side, facing him, I close my eyes. I want to capture this moment and the white of the sheets that seem to be a surrender. His gaze rests on me, warm like the long fingers of sunlight as they reach across the floorboards. There’s a gentle huff of laughter before the book he was reading is placed on the floor, his glasses clink as they follow suit. Then he shifts. I know without looking that he’s mirroring me and I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips.

“Are you tired?”

“No, just resting.”

He hums, deliberating. “Do you want me to go?”

“No.” My response is Instant. It wasn’t really a question that needed to be asked. Surely?

There’s a long pause, like he’s hesitating over which direction to take. Before words arrive, his fingertips brush gently across my forehead, before tracing along my temple and sweeping behind my ear—pushing hair from my face. My breath deepens, an uncontrollable reaction to the touch.

“I thought sometimes that I’d made it up,” he says quietly. His hand drops to the sheets but not before fingertips skim along my jaw so lightly that it could have been an accident.

I don’t know what’s different. He’s already undressed, bathed and towel-dried me and his hands are always gentle. Yet there was no intent behind his touch except care. In that barest touch I can feel something different. Perhaps I’m projecting but it almost feels like need; touching me for his own sake as well as mine.

Mouth dry, I don't want to open my eyes—let alone speak—in case this spell winks out. I could have it all wrong. “Made what up?” My voice is rougher than before and for no good reason.

“How everything feels with you.” I do look now, but his gaze searches me as his fingers had. “I could never work out what it was. Whether you were this angel that had no urges,” he grins, amused at his own humour, “or whether whatever it was you felt with me, it was enough—intimate enough—that you didn’t need more. Even if maybe you wanted more. But whatever it was being with you has always been different from anything else.”

I’m not sure if he wants me to specify who I am, or how I feel, but the heat rushing up my chest and into my cheeks is probably enough to answer. “I just wanted to keep you safe.” That’s my roundabout way of answering appearing once more. But it’s true.

“So, a sexless angel it is?” He teases.

I snort, rolling my eyes before holding his gaze. “No. I jerk off like everyone else,” I state in defense, jaw firming stubbornly as he laughs.

“You do? I find that hard to imagine.”

“Then don’t.”

He pauses, chewing his lip. I know he’s about to push imagined boundaries in the way his nature dictates. “Now I’m curious. What do you get off to?”

I want to make a joke about what curiosity did to the cat but there’s always been transparency between us. As hard as it would be to talk about this anywhere else, I can do it here with him. “Just porn—regular porn. Blow jobs, orgasms; nothing special.”

“Nothing special,” he murmurs, half in thought and half amused. Before he continues his thought his hand is at my face again, this time stroking over one eyebrow and then the other. It sends goosebumps over my body. I barely manage to keep from shuddering. “But when you close your eyes—no porn—and it’s just you and your hand, what do you think about?”

This is a little more personal than porn. My own private thoughts, the fantasies that involve me. His finger is drawing a pattern down my arm. The flush in my face has done the opposite of fade. The urge to deflect is almost as strong as my desire to talk—to him about anything, everything...

“It’ll sound dumb.”

“No, it won’t.”

I sigh. It will, no matter what he says. “Mostly it’s not anything sexual: touch, nearness, safety, acceptance, love.” All things relatively easy and yet things I’ve been without all my adult life. The slight lift of his eyebrows prompts me on, unbelieving that that’s all there is to it. “Of course it’ll be in a scenario where something is happening but it’s more about what they say, how they feel—about me,” I stutter out.

His hand pauses, lips parted. What I said shocked him perhaps, in the very least it gave him pause. What had he expected me to say? “So you gave me what you wanted for yourself?” And now I have to take a moment to digest. I hadn’t thought of it like that. “Nearness, safety, acceptance, love…” he trails off, leaving the list unfinished. Perhaps touch isn’t something he wants to acknowledge, although he’s never flinched when I’ve held him. Maybe he’s nervous about stating that part, as unlikely as it seems for the Ash I know and for the way he freely reaches for me. Perhaps dancing around that point is for my benefit.

“I guess we all love in the way we want to be loved.”

The smile that spreads on his lips is warm, soft, it makes my body tingle. His hand lands on mine, a gentle grip secures it and brings it to his mouth. One soft kiss is pressed to my knuckles. The battle is easily lost; a shiver runs through me. It’s the first time he’s kissed me, disregarding necessity in another age. It should feel strange or new but intimacy has always been a fine line between us; blurred boundaries that were never firmly in place.

Is this how he wants to be loved? With kisses and touches?

I’m not brave enough to ask, but my body is willing enough to respond—embarrassingly so. I roll onto my front, burying my face in a pillow. Maybe he won’t notice—I hope he doesn’t because I don’t want to pollute a candid moment with something carnal. All he does is shift closer, my hand is against the cotton once more but his fingers are threaded through mine.

“What about you?” I mumble into the pillow, attempting to shift the spotlight from me.

He snorts a short laugh, breath teases the bare skin of my shoulder. “Do I jerk off?” I hum a yes, opening one eye to peer at him. That half-smile he’s wearing says that this conversation is as amusing as it is left-field. “Yeah. It’s a thing that needs doing every now and again—like stretching, I guess.”

It’s my turn to laugh. “Like a mechanical process?”

He shrugs but everything about him says he’s at ease sharing. I never doubted that we both felt free with each other, but reassurance never hurts. “I guess. I dropped the shame a while back. But it’s still a blank screen—behind my eyes. It’s difficult to explain.”

“I think I get it.” Relief pours into me knowing the shame is gone. I’m grateful once again for the safety net he found. I won’t pry at the ground covered, not in any detail, but the progress can’t have been easy. There’s not much to be done for the regret that it could have been me that helped, despite knowing that’s ego talking once more. Sometimes we aren’t the person to help. Accepting that is hard but he’s here, still the same Ash that I loved but evolved. Free. He could fly after all.

There’s a lull, but he’s still pondering. Whatever it is brings a half smile to his face and piques my curiosity. “What?” Ash’s focus adjusts, it’s back to me and now he’s humming a questioning sound like he’s trying to pass off my question. “What are you thinking?”

“If I told you it might embarrass you.”

I don’t know if I could be embarrassed anymore than I currently am, given that my hard-on hasn’t budged. And I’m pretty sure he knows what’s going on—why I turned to press my hips against the mattress. I was always transparent to him, yet it hasn’t disturbed him. He hasn’t pulled away. “It won’t.”

The words are considered before they’re spoken. “I’m learning something new.” His gaze is inquisitive once more, as are those long fingers—the index runs a path down the bridge of my nose. “I always loved your honesty, the truth in your expressions.” He pauses and touch drifts to my shoulder, skating slow patterns over my pebbled skin. Heat is effortlessly coaxed to the surface. “And now I’m learning how you react to the way I touch you. It’s so honest—pure. You don’t hide and you’d never ask for more. Yet just this,” his hand drifts to my spine, running half way down my back and pushing the sheets lower before it retraces it’s steps and lingers at my nape, “just my hand or my words, and you feel so warm and fluid. I don’t have to try and it does something, and that does something to me.” There’s a pause but I stay silent. He adds softly, like it means nothing at all when it’s probably the most profound thing anyone has ever said to me, “It’s beautiful.”

I try to swallow but it’s impossible. I have no idea what to say. I want to find some reproach in his assertion that he doesn’t have to try to turn me on, but the admission takes precedence. He finds me—us—beautiful, like this? Flushed and receptive?

“Something?” I ask. It’s about the only thing I can find to say, to specify exactly what that means for him.

His grin says he understands, one of those glimpses of rare childishness shines through—I adore it when it shows. His hand stops it’s coaxing to push against my shoulder playfully. “You know what I mean.” Then another soft kiss is pushed to my knuckles. “And there’s nothing wrong with asking—FYI,” he adds before he flops onto his back. His gaze stays locked to mine—waiting for my reaction.

He’s always inspired bravery in me—by presence or memory alone.

We love how we want to be loved; his fingers and lips have both caressed me. And he beckons me to ask. I know what he wants me to ask and I want to ask it.

His chest is open and inviting, and after that weighty confession, it’s my turn to move my feet. Shifting on to my elbows, I inch across the short distance between us, his fingers dance up my back, idly toying with the hair at my nape again. There is enjoyment and pride dancing in his eyes, they’re wider now though with that something: anticipation and the want that lay beneath his fingertips.

How long have we been waiting for this moment? Now I just have to find the words to ask. For once my obtuse instincts are absent. “Can I kiss you?” I whisper.

If Ash was a cat, I'm pretty sure he'd be purring. His answer doesn’t come in words. Turning on his side, towards me, suddenly we are nose to nose—bridging an impasse that I want to both last an eternity and end immediately. The tip of his nose nudges against mine playfully, then his head tilts. Every inch of me trembles and a low sound escapes my lips before our mouths find each other—a soft, fleeting press.

Soft. He is so soft...

#bananafish #eiji okumura #ash lynx #asheiji #fanfic

40 notes · View notes

sonicringbond · 3 years

Text

Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey - Scene 22

Like before, a fair bit of exposition this chapter.

I hope everyone will forgive me. For the most part it’s part of why I have Rosy narrating most of it, as it helps show her knowledge and how she is seeing the world. I hope it’s been working and keeping everyone engaged. But I guess you really can’t engage if I keep yapping, so please enjoy...

~As I said before, Rings are amazing! Through a Ring Bond two people can share so much between each other. It really makes me mad that Ix would use a Ring Bond to steal things from people. I really hope I can straighten him out, and if not that I can stop him before he really hurts a lot of people. And if not me, then hopefully Draw.

~Bringing Draw along will be difficult without Zooey or Sonic though. I’m sure I could carry him well enough, though I don’t think that he would like that. But it’s not like I can really make a Ring Bond either. I really don’t know how, though I know I’ve tried in the past to figure it out. I guess I just don’t have a good instinct for.

~Ooh~! It’s so frustrating!

~It’s not just Sonic and Ix though who can form Ring Bonds. Or at least some of the affects. As Rings make up the world itself when they’ve used up most of their energy, they can sometimes pass their abilities into the objects they make up. Just like the tiny little floating islands I discovered while climbing up one of the fingers of Point Beach with Draw.~

“What are you doing now, you crazy weirdo girl!” Draw called out in disbelieving panic as Rosy deftly leapt from one floating piece of rock and vegetation to another.

“Collecting Rings of course,” Rosy smiled and waved back at Draw as she landed, nearly fell, and then collected the Rings on the new island. “Though we’ll have to be careful when we get to the top. I bet there’s another mean priest waiting at the top ready to smack the Rings out of me!”

~I think Draw might have been confused why I would feel that way, but it made sense to me.

~At the top of the particularly thick “finger” that we followed the long winding plank walkway up there was an airship port. It was particularly busy too. But maybe Draw had never flown before and didn’t realize that Rings can appear all the way up into outer space even. It really is amazing. Tee-hee! But I’m getting distracted.

~Another amazing thing about Rings, at least back home, is that they can be used to fuel airships. If I’m remembering what Tails told me once, they are even used in the construction of them to help them float and ignore some of the rules about air-o-something-or-other. Anyway, that’s also why they have balloons built into their bodies and are covered in sails, wings, and propellers; to help them fly through the air. The thing is though, the airships here look a lot like they’re built the same way and I couldn’t help but look at them. At least until we got to the top of the finger.

~Unlike the coral reef look of the homes built into the old buildings that made up the finger mountains, everything up top was brand new. The roads were still paved with seashells, but the stone brick buildings were all a lot newer looking. They were still covered in plants like everywhere I’ve been, but it was really pretty, like a garden built that way. I couldn’t leave the search for Zooey waiting any longer though.

~After avoiding the priest I knew would be up there, holding up a lot of travelers too, Draw and I began looking for people familiar with the “Queen of the Sky”. Tee-hee~♪ Zooey had made it harder to track her down than I expected though as she had become quite famous since I last saw her. Everyone on top of the finger knew who she was. If I hadn’t seen the poster, I would have never found anyone who had actually met her.~

“Really!” Rosy exclaimed excitedly as the old orangutan cloud sailor she shared a café table with tapped the photo Rosy showed him.

“No doubt about it. Aye, that’s the Queen of the Sky alright. I’ve never lost an air race so badly before until I met her. She’s a devil in the guise of an angel I warn ye.”

“And she’s a friend of yours?” Draw asked as he gave Rosy a sidelong glance.

Indignantly puffing up her cheeks, Rosy defended her friend. “Zooey maybe scary sometimes, but she’s really sweet and caring. She just wants the best for her friends. I’m guessing after we all got separated that’s why she got into racing. It’d be a lot easier for us to find her if she was famous, and she doesn’t really stand out like the rest of do.”

“Can’t say that ye do lass,” The orangutan countered and rubbed his chin. “Ain’t heard hide or tail about any of the other’s in this pic. Seeing how happy she is though; I don’t doubt that you’re all good friends with her. The thing is though, the Queen of the Sky ain’t so easy to catch up with.”

“You’re just saying that cause you lost,” Draw criticized the old cloud sailor.

“Draw, that’s rude, even if it’s true.” Rosy had not meant to be so rude herself and gasped as she covered her mouth with her hands and photo as the old sailor frowned. “I’m so sorry! I really shouldn’t have said that.”

“Ye might have well of lass. Ye was thinking it, and that’s all there is to it. And perhaps I do have a sore spot still. Us cloud sailors make a living on our skills, so losing a race like that… Well, it’s a shame as a sailor and an engineer.”

“Wait!” Slamming his hands on the table in the café they had found the old orangutan in, Draw rose to his feet in shock. “You have more than one occupation? I don’t understand, everyone–”

“Has only one they dedicate their lives to?” the cloud sailor finished for Draw with a sly smile. “Only for ye ground dwellers perhaps, but the Engineers aren’t fond of the life that the Preservers force on everyone. It stifles our creativity and keeps the world stagnant. That, and ye never know when a Ring Shift will take ye off course. I hear there are still a lot of sailors missing after that big red Ring showed up in the sky.”

Her mouth falling into an “O” shape, Rosy was glad that she was still hiding her mouth. Looking down at the picture again she thought about the sapient frog who had taken it and likely had it processed. She had helped him out quite a bit too and if she was right, she may have made even more trouble for the Engineers.

“So then, I guess Ring Thieves work with the Preserves?”

“Preservers lass, and ye ain’t wrong about that. But I wonder why it is that you ask. Ain’t no good that comes from getting involved with their ilk.”

“Hee-hee. I’ve heard that back home too. Our whole way of life is dependent on Rings, so Ring thieves aren’t really liked. They’re considered really bad people.”

Draw was not sure what was going on between Rosy and the Orangutan, but he knew that they were suddenly not being very direct. It seemed odd for the normally blunt Rosy from what he had seen of her, and he grew more curious. More so that anyone would steal Rings and that it would give them a reputation other than that of a heretic. “So, what’s the big idea about a Ring Thief?”

“Eh?”

The orangutan’s response was all Rosy needed to confirm her suspicions and Rosy jumped on the opportunity. “It’s because airships can’t function without them!”

A long awkward silence fell over the whole café as Rosy blurted it out. Sidelong glances were exchanged between the patrons and a nervous whisper filled the air. The orangutan merely gave Rosy a bewildered look which she challenged with a confident smile while her tail began to wag enthusiastically. Eventually the orangutan conceded and slumped down with a sigh.

“I suppose ye are friends with the Queen of the Sky. It was only natural that ye’d know.”

“Of course!” Rosy smiled, as she leaned back into her seat looking very happy. Draw was still staring at her curiously though as he tried to grasp the whole situation. The writing on the back of the photo she still clutched tightly really was bugging him and he questioned Rosy ignorantly of the consequences of his words.

“Then you know a Ring Thief? I guess that shouldn’t surprise me with a weirdo girl like you.”

Leaning back and placing his hands on the back of his head, Draw grew even more confused as Rosy’s smile became very strained and the eyes of the patrons grew wide with shock. “Ah~ Draw! I just wanted to get help finding Zooey! I knew if I mentioned Gill everyone would get mad!”

“Gill you say!” one patron asked indignantly. “You don’t mean that scoundrel Mach Frog Bradley do you! Why I lost a whole month’s worth of time due to that meddling creep once. It was a relief when he disappeared!”

“Ha!” another patron scoffed at the first. “Well I’ve lost a lot more to that scoundrel. Scourge of the world I say!”

“Ooh~! I knew Gill had probably gotten himself into all kinds of trouble being a Ring Thief, but he was so nice to me.”

“Well ye’ve been duped lass,” the orangutan scowled as he lost any sympathy in his eyes. “And put into a bad spot too.”

“Wait,” Rosy waved her hands in front of her pleadingly. “I really just want to find Zooey and the rest of our friends and try to get home.”

“Ye really think I’ll trust ye hearing that you’re affiliated with that slimy crook?”

“Is it really that bad?” Draw asked as though he was adding fuel to the fire. He was having a hard time grasping that the airships he frequently saw overhead were powered by Rings and that anyone who stole Rings was more than weird.

“Draw! Please don’t make this worse!” Rosy practically begged as she looked at the increasingly angered patrons as they seemed to loom about their table. “Gill helped me out, but I know Ring Thieves are bad people, and everyone here has been hurt by him too. And since I helped him out a bit too, he’s pretty much hurt me now too. Ooh~! Gill you dummy! Why did you have to hurt people too!”

~It was so frustrating. It felt my like lead to Zooey had been lost in that moment. Just like her pretty title made it sound, she was so far away from a hedgehog with her feet on the ground, even if some people thought I had lost my head in the clouds. But the funny thing is, sometimes people are a lot nicer than anyone realizes they are. A lot more forgiving too. Gill had hurt all of us, so it was only natural that we helped each other. And I’m always happy to help. Especially when it makes people smile and sets me on another adventure!~

Scene 22 · CLEARED Queen of the Sky, End

-----

And there we have ourselves a fun little change in direction. My frog OC, Gill hasn’t shown up in a while, but he’s still able to much things up regardless. And Rosy probably never should have asked about Ring Thieves, but her curiosity has been eating at her since Scene 16 so it was time to bring it to a head. I’m also curious what everyone thinks of Draw so far. He’s a fun little trouble maker to write and give’s Rosy a consistent person to chat with, but does everyone like him or is he just annoying and/or boring you? I hope he’s enjoyable so far. You’ll be seeing more of him for a while yet! Until then, stay well!

-----

Special Thanks to Cutegirlmayra Story by @JoshTarwater/SonicFanJ Inspiring Song – Wind of Beginnings – Nobuo Uematsu – Granblue Fantasy Original Soundtrack

Fair Use Disclaimer

Sonic the Hedgehog and all affiliated characters and logos are the express property and Copyright© of SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS used without permission under Title 17 U.S.C Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976 in which allowance is made for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. “Fair use” is use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be considered copyright infringement. The Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey alternate universe (AU) consumer written work of fiction is a non-profit transformative work primarily for personal use and can and will be taken down without warning or prior notice at the request of the copyright holder(s) should it not be recognized under “fair use”.

*Sonic Ring Bond logo created by DEE Art – twitter.com/daryliscute.

Sonic Ring Bond AU and Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey are the creation of Joshua David Tarwater/ynymbus/sonicfanj/@Joshtarwater and is to be, including all contents herein considered for all legal purposes the property of the Sonic the Hedgehog intellectual property (IP) and copyright owners, SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS. All story contributors via prompt, suggestion, written scene, art, and all and every other contribution acknowledge that all contributed material is forfeit for legal purposes to SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS upon official request from SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic fan fiction #sonic au #sonic au series #sonic ring bond #the journey #classic amy #amy rose #rosy the rascal #au amy #amy redesign #sonic oc #patch #draw the koala

5 notes · View notes

krislammsidbtjournal · 3 years

Text

Creative-Problem Interviews

INTERVIEW 1

About Jay Josue. Jay Josue is Sr. Art Director in Los Angeles and currently works at Arcana Academy, an Ad Agency located in Venice. Jay is also a freelance concept and title designer. His selected work can be seen in The Current War (2019), Citizen (2016), Me and Earl and The Dying Girl (2015).

How do you generate ideas? (How, when, and where are you inspired? What inspires you?)

Jay is a big believer in completely submerging yourself in the world of your project. For example, when Jay was working on The Current War (2019), he engulfed himself in learning everything about the Industrial Age. He gained every bit of knowledge about the electricity titans that were Thomas Edison, George Westinghouse, and Nikola Tesla. Although Jay’s role in the project was more aligned with typography, he stressed that you need to dive into the world and sit with it. “Find an entry-level way to enter the world in any way, shape, or form. From there, you will begin to see the narrative pulled from the styles, history, and aesthetics of your research”.

When asked what inspires him, Jay answered, “Everything. Everywhere. Anytime.” Jay finds beauty in everything and draws on the emotional presence of his surroundings. He stresses that we often find ourselves strenuously seeking inspiration versus letting our subconscious do the work – it is why our greatest ideas come from the shower. An example of this is when Jay looks at a building, he not only sees the building holistically, but he draws his attention to the inner workings of the multiple layers that make up the building.

What obstacles do you face in coming up with a new idea, and how do you overcome them?

Due to the fast-paced nature of his work, Jay often finds himself challenged with what he calls “Trend Traps.” There is a time and place where a project can take the likings of the newest design trends. However, Jay always strives to come up with something more meaningful in his work.

When asked about overcoming challenges, Jay answered, “As cliché, as it sounds, thinking outside the box helps me combat trend traps.” He encourages always looking at the problem from different angles and allowing yourself to zoom out of the logical problem and think more emotionally. Jay concludes, “By giving yourself a broad perspective in problem-solving and sitting in the world, you will produce more meaningful work.”

What process(es) do you use to solve problems?  

Identify the task at hand.

Be comfortable with the information and sit with it.

Research and place yourself within that world.

Begin ideating through sketching, mood boards, scanning books, etc.

Start experimenting through mock-ups and prototypes.

Distill your best ideas and see what works (perhaps ideas 1 and 3 can be the immediate solution).

Execute and continue polishing your final piece.

Finally, deploy.

Jay shared that his process is akin to a fine-artist discipline. Sometimes, the process can hinder his creativity, so he seeks the delicate balance of building parameters broad enough where he can still play without limitations.

INTERVIEW 2

About Blake Hill-Saya. Blake Hill-Saya is a published author and is the founder of Tenacity Communications, a verbal branding agency in Los Angeles. Blake is also a professional opera singer and licensed physical therapist. Blake brings a unique perspective in her writing with her multifaceted career background.

How do you generate ideas? (How, when, and where are you inspired? What inspires you?)

As a verbal coach, Blake is inspired largely by the conversations she has with her clients. One of her foundational questions is, "Tell me about a time with your job where everything just went incredible and tell me how you were feeling." Blake explains that such questions do not often get posed on clients when attempting to find their brand. What she finds from that question is an interesting language where the brand's true essence comes out.

Blake's original work is inspired by the entire literary landscape and the panoramic view it offers. She habitually reads all day and spends her time listening to podcasts about writing, seeking inspiration by writing down new phrases she has not tried out before or looking to see where she could insert herself into the story. Essentially, Blake enjoys and is inspired by the journey in which it took the author to get to where they are and finds a way to find her journey.

What obstacles do you face in coming up with a new idea, and how do you overcome them?

When it comes to obstacles, "writer's block is a real thing," and for Blake, it manifests when she is either overwhelmed or burnt out. For Blake, it means it is time to get active. She goes on what she calls "writers walk," where she puts on an audiobook of some of her favorite authors or writers. "I like to restore my faith in good writing and feeling like I have a companionship." She can also be found with a notepad on these walks to help with her writer's block. Blake has also adapted the advice by the late author Ray Bradbury which is to read two short stories and one poem.

As a musician, Blake has found that one way to combat being overwhelmed is with a few minor mental tricks which can be applied to any problem. When she needs to learn a new music piece, she breaks them out into portions and gets to rehearsing. Similarly, she finds herself repeating to herself, "just write X number of pages" to get the juices flowing with writing. "You have to find a system that works for you and stick to that system."

What process(es) do you use to solve problems?

Listen and sit with your client. Do it gracefully and inquisitively. Make them feel cared for. Often with businesses, you can get bogged down with business jargon, but as a consultant, you're able to harness the power of listening.

Build a structure but remember to remain flexible. For example, come to a meeting with prepared questions, but don't structure yourself so much that you can still react at the moment. You want your client the walk away to feel like they've been seen and heard.

Always follow up with a thank you email and a personal touch to know that "Hey! I see and hear you, and I'm on your side!"

INTERVIEW 3

About Jourel Baello. Jourel Baello is a Site Merchandiser at MeUndies where he oversees the digital storefront of MeUndies.com, CA-based underwear, and loungewear company. Jourel brings a broad perspective on fast fashion with his unique career journey from traditional brick and mortar retail to eCommerce. Before MeUndies, Jourel worked at Guitar Center as their eCommerce Specialist and spent seven years at Cotton On climbing the corporate ladder from Sales Associate in-store to eCommerce Merchandise Analyst at their LA headquarters.

How do you generate ideas? (How, when, and where are you inspired? What inspires you?)

MeUndies is a key player in the subscription-based business model, so in order to stay ahead, Jourel looks to the industry for emerging trends to elevate their customer experience. He reviews the competitive landscape and finds opportunities other brands may have that MeUndies could bring to the table.

What inspires Jourel is that eCommerce is still relatively in its infancy compared to the larger scope of retail. “Being at the forefront of what eCommerce can become excites me as an early pioneer in the space.” Jourel is also inspired by the ever-changing playing field eCommerce brings. He concludes, “There is no wrong answer, just lots of testing and different ways to approach problems. Finding the piece of the puzzle that no one else can provide is such a fun challenge.”  

What obstacles do you face in coming up with a new idea, and how do you overcome them?

The biggest challenge Jourel faces is centered around bandwidth with the Developers and Engineers. MeUndies, like any eComm retailer, runs 24/7, 365 days of the year, which is great when collecting feedback on how to make the user experience better, but difficult when all of those changes become overlapping projects. Additionally, more pressure is added around seasonal promotions such as Black Friday where a set of new ideas are introduced. Jourel overcomes these challenges with transparent communication with his team. He reviews the project pipeline and identifies areas where things can be moved around. Then, with the blessings from his senior management, he optimizes new deadlines and manages deliverables. “I constantly revisit our roadmap because of how fast things are changing.” Jourel expresses that it is imperative to see the view of each project and its relation to how it may impact other projects.

What process(es) do you use to solve problems?

Ideating – What is the problem at hand? Are we able to come up with a hypothesis? What questions can we ask?

Cross Functional Discussions – Align with outside departments to ensure goals they have in mind are being addressed.

Internal Team Discussion – Discuss with the internal team about research and findings. Discussing what next steps are if it’s needed to go back to ideating phase.

Test. Test. Test. – Aggressively testing to see what options work and narrowing down solutions.

Analyzing Results – Reviewing test results and make implementation decision. At this stage, it can become iterative which helps drive clarity.

1 note · View note

syntaxeme · 4 years

Text

One Good Turn ch. 5 [end]

[Read on AO3] | [First Chapter] Rating: M Story summary: Angel’s clean streak is broken when Val forcibly calls him back to the studio. On principle (and not at all out of concern for Angel's wellbeing), Alastor takes it upon himself to free Angel from Valentino's control. But what started as a simple favor becomes something much more complicated, all because of an innocent thank-you kiss. Note: I did have another chapter planned for this story, but I’ve gotten so thoroughly invested in my Giardino Segreto AU that I don’t think I’ll ever get around to it. Besides, this isn’t a terrible place to leave off!

— — –

Angel’s back was pinned against the wall in the hotel’s abandoned excuse for a ballroom. The room was mostly dark, a little light from the setting sun bleeding in through dingy windows while he lazily observed one of his fellow patrons trying to make a move on him. The other demon was a little taller than Angel himself, a little broader, and he used his extra bit of height to his advantage, leaning forward against the wall to bear down on Angel.

“You talk a pretty big game, sweet thing.” His name was some kind of music joke: Jazz or Ska or House or some shit. “I’d sure like to see you put your money where your mouth is.”

“I can think of better things to put in my mouth,” Angel snickered. As the other demon grinned and reached up to pet his cheek, Angel slapped his hand away and went on, “But your dick ain’t one of ‘em. Fuck off and find someone else to bother.”

“Are you serious?” Maybe-Jazz growled. “You sit there makin’ offers all through Charlie’s sessions but you won’t follow through?”

“Offers? Please. Look, I ain’t serious about any of that shit; I’m sayin’ it to fuck with ya, not to actually fuck ya.” This wasn’t the first time he’d had to explain this over the past week or so, but truth be told, he was kind of enjoying having the freedom to say ‘no’ (not that his sex drive wasn’t as strong as ever, but he’d gotten pickier about who he was willing to spend it on—a lot pickier).

“Well I’m not into being teased, so maybe you better reconsider.” Jazz snaked an arm around Angel’s waist, incorrectly thinking this was a situation he could brute-force his way through. As if his vague bullshit threats were anything compared to what Angel had been through in the past.

Cute. His body moved almost by reflex, one hand grabbing Jazz’s shirt to reverse their positions and shove him back against the wall. His other hands reached into his jacket and drew out a matching set of three pistols, pressing one to Jazz’s temple, one to his chest, and aiming the last at his crotch.

“Which trigger should I pull first, ya think?” Angel asked casually, enjoying the shocked and disarmed look on the other demon’s face. “You could probably live without your balls, but I feel like you don’t get much use outta your brain, either.”

“Hey, cool it,” Jazz grumbled, raising his hands in surrender. “You know killin’ me’d set back your redemption plan pretty far.”

“Ha! You must not know me very well, sweet thing. I’m a backslider from way back; wouldn’t be the first time my virtues got a little blurry.” After another moment of enjoying the tension, he released the other demon’s shirt and took a step back. “But fuckin’ you up isn’t worth listenin’ to Charlie gripe. So how ‘bout you get the hell outta my face and we call it even?”

“Fine. Shit.” With a bitter, disappointed glance in Angel’s direction, Jazz shoved his hands in his pockets and stalked out of the room. Angel twirled his guns once before tucking them back into his jacket. He was just in such a good goddamn mood lately, and he didn’t have to wonder why; true to Alastor’s word, none of Val’s guys had shown up at the hotel since their little ‘chat,’ leaving Angel free to enjoy his independence and sexuality—or lack thereof!—whatever way he chose. Since he’d been working for Val so long, it was refreshing to be back in control of himself now. And he hadn’t forgotten for even a second who he had to thank for it.

Alastor had been acting a little weird since then, though. Looking at him funny, not responding to his playful flirting right, and then there was that word—cher—he’d started using. Angel might not have the best grasp of French, but he was pretty sure he recognized that term. Enough to know what it meant but not what it meant.

As he strolled out of the ballroom Jazz had dragged him into without warning, he found Alastor standing outside, clutching his staff tightly in both hands. “Angel,” he said a little too cheerfully. “How are you? I thought…well, I could’ve been wrong. It sounded like you and Jazz had a bit of a disagreement.”

“Is there anything in the hotel you don’t hear?” Angel tried hard not to think about how many times he’d moaned the Radio Demon’s name into his pillow over the past few nights.

“Not much.” Alastor’s default expression didn’t shift in the slightest. It wasn’t easy, but Angel was making a point of learning to tell one smile from another. How else would he ever learn to read the cryptic bastard? “But you look fine. I suppose you took care of it.”

“Y’know, it’s pretty cute, you gettin’ all protective,” Angel said with a knowing grin, “but don’t start thinkin’ I can’t handle myself with jerk-offs like him. I’m not gonna ask you to step in for me again any time soon, don’t worry.”

“Right. Of course! No, I know you’re perfectly capable of defending yourself.” He was doing it again, getting all awkward and distant for no reason, avoiding Angel’s eyes, his usual smooth attitude stuttering a little.

Angel Dust had never been much good at quiet contemplation or impulse control, so instead of keeping his concerns to himself and giving Alastor space, he asked directly, “What’s goin’ on with you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Bullshit. Don’t act like you haven’t been lookin’ at me different since you got back from Val’s place.” Or maybe it was the kiss. “You act like you’re happy to see me, you start talkin’ to me like normal, then you clam up all of a sudden and run off. You were always a little weird, but you’re weirder lately, and I feel like it’s got somethin’ to do with me.”

It bothered him more than he wanted to admit to think that Alastor was mad at him or something. Despite his best efforts at resisting, Angel had developed a sort of attachment to him, weirdness and all. Maybe out of gratitude. Maybe something else. He already knew better than to expect Alastor would ever start feeling something similar about him, but he’d thought they were at least on some kind of friendly terms.

The Radio Demon was silent and still for just a moment too long, and Angel let out a frustrated sigh, throwing up his hands and starting past him toward the elevator—but Alastor caught his hand to stop him.

“If anything I’ve done has made you feel like you’re in the wrong, I’m sorry,” he said plainly. “I’ve been keeping my distance while I decided how to talk to you about this. And, obviously, I haven’t had any luck. Now might be as good a time as any.”

“For what? What d’you want to talk about?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Alastor seemed to realize he was still holding Angel’s hand and released it. “I’d rather have the conversation in private, if you don’t mind. We could use one of the conference rooms or—”

“Isn’t your room closer?” Angel asked, raising his eyebrows, and Al’s throat constricted with a reflexive gulp.

“Yes. That’s also fine. If you like.” He turned on his heel to lead the way down the hall to room 313, then held the door open and gestured for Angel to go ahead. The room was surprisingly minimalist, not reflecting the beaucoups of personality that showed every time Alastor opened his mouth. But that was better than the hellish horrors some other Overlords might decorate with.

“So what’s the deal?” Angel’s instinct was to seat himself on the bed, but he resisted it, not wanting Alastor to think he was being pushy.

“The question seems simple enough, doesn’t it? Yet as hard as I’ve tried, I can’t seem to answer it as clearly or eloquently as I’d like. That’s part of the reason I haven’t mentioned it to you; I felt there was no point bringing it up until I actually had something to say.”

“Funny. Most times, it’s a lot harder to make you stop talkin’.”

“Believe me, I know exactly how unusual this is,” Alastor sighed, releasing his staff and letting it vanish, “which is most likely why it’s been so difficult for me to form it into a complete, polished statement.”

“Give it to me messy, then.” Seeing how rigid Alastor had gone, Angel winced and tried again. Sometimes his mouth just formed innuendos without any effort on his part. “I’m sayin’ I don’t need it to be super-organized and flawless. Just tell me what you’re thinkin’.”

The Radio Demon took a deep breath and, without looking anywhere near Angel, confessed, “I want…you. That’s the clearest way I can think to say it.” He wrinkled his nose and shook his head, obviously frustrated with how inelegant the words were. But they were enough to hold Angel’s attention regardless.

“Oh.” He was about to ask Alastor to elaborate but quickly realized that was the part he was having trouble with. So he asked a different question. “When’d that start?”

“Roughly twenty-four seconds after you kissed me,” Alastor said matter-of-factly.

“After? So that’s not why you helped me with Val?”

“No. I don’t think so, at least. And I didn’t want you thinking so, either. But then—” He choked out a laugh. “I don’t have a definitive answer for why I did that, either, so maybe I’m fooling myself. It’s hard to say.”

“Well, if you can’t tell me what ya want, it’ll be awful hard for me to give it to ya.”

Red eyes lingered on Angel’s lips, and Alastor wet his own. “But you’re willing to agree, just like that? Without even knowing what I’m asking for?”

“Al, I’m gonna be totally honest with you,” Angel said, drawing closer and bending down a little to meet his gaze. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a little bit of a freak. I figured I was wastin’ my time, thinkin’ about gettin’ with you—”

“You’ve been thinking about that, have you?”

“—but I’m pretty sure whatever you wanna do with my body, I’ll enjoy it,” he went on, draping his arms over Alastor’s shoulders, not missing the shiver that went through the Overlord’s body. “I trust you.”

Those were apparently the magic words; Alastor’s eyes widened, and he dragged Angel into a firm kiss. And he participated much more actively this time! He slid one hand into Angel’s hair to draw him downward, forcing his posture to bend, but he was too absorbed in the experience to be bothered.

It all seemed to happen much slower than he expected. Alastor’s tongue traced his lips, stealing his breath, then slipped inside, everything soft and wet and warm. Even as Angel pressed in closer, arms tightening around Alastor’s shoulders and waist, Al refused to let him take things any faster. It seemed like he was intent on exploring every inch of Angel’s mouth in his own time, and—God—his tongue was longer than expected. When Alastor moaned into his mouth, Angel’s heart practically stopped, and he forced himself to break away for a breath.

“Fuck,” he muttered, hanging off Al for stability.

“That’s a nice sound, cher,” the Radio Demon purred, allowing his free arm to wrap around Angel’s slender waist and hold him close. “I wonder what it would take to hear more of it.”

“Uh. My voice?” Angel asked, embarrassed at how turned on he’d gotten from just one kiss (albeit a very deep, very thorough kiss).

“That’s right. I know for sure that I want that. The question is how to go about getting it.” Using the grip in his hair, he turned Angel toward him for another kiss, one every bit as hot and intense as the first, and Angel found himself moaning softly with every breath from having his mouth full. How ironic that someone so indifferent about sex could excite him with hardly any effort. But after so long doing without, every little bit of pleasurable friction made him eager for more. If this is his first time, is he feeling all that too?

“H-hang on,” he whimpered, reluctantly pushing Alastor away so he could catch a breath. “You probably can’t hear me really well if my mouth’s covered.”

“Fair point.” Al grabbed his wrist and dragged him over to the bed, then pushed him forward to kneel on the mattress. Stepping in close behind him, Alastor wrapped both arms around his waist, chest pressed to Angel’s back. With Angel on his knees, Alastor’s mouth was at just the right level to meet his neck, lips and tongue and teeth teasing to send hot shivers down his spine.

“That’s…nice, baby,” Angel sighed, and he could feel Alastor tense up behind him. “What? Somethin’ wrong?”

“I don’t care to be called that,” the Radio Demon said plainly. “Try again, cher.”

“Oh. Well, what d’ya like, then?” Angel was struggling to focus on talking as Al easily unbuttoned his jacket and stripped it off him to toss it to the floor. So much for shyness! He knew some part of what he wanted, clearly.

“Surprise me,” Alastor chuckled. “Something unique. Something you wouldn’t use for anyone else.”

“Okay. How ‘bout, uh, dear?” That one was a lot more wholesome than he was used to.

Al laughed against his skin. “Yes, that seems appropriate.” His hands drifted down to unbutton Angel’s shorts, drawing a breathless moan from his lips.

“Alastor…”

“Simple, but I’m surprised at how much I enjoy hearing it.” As he talked, casual as could be, he slid his hand down the front of Angel’s shorts to tease a desperate whine from his lips.

“Y-y’know, you’re makin’ this…kinda hard for me, honey,” he moaned, cheeks flushing with heat. There was another term he didn’t use often. It always felt too sweet, too familiar to call a stranger. But of course, Alastor didn’t fall into that category anymore.

“Oh, I like that very much, cher,” he purred, his hand meeting Angel’s bare skin without any sense of reservation or discomfort. Angel whined and writhed, embarrassed at how hard he’d gotten already but not trying to escape.

“Hang on. Lemme…do somethin’ for you too.” He tried reaching back with his free hands to grope between Alastor’s legs—but the Radio Demon moved away before he could.

“That’s not necessary.” The shadows in the room came to life and bound Angel’s wrists in front of him so he couldn’t reach. With a snap of Alastor’s fingers, the room went utterly pitch black, forcing Angel to feel everything else even more. It seemed unfair that with hardly any experience, he was still doing everything just right. “If you want to please me, speak to me, moan for me—sing for me if you like. I can promise no one else will hear. And I intend to keep it that way.”

So there was a little possessiveness in him somewhere. Not that Angel minded. Even if it wasn’t the same kind of sex he was used to having, he was still 100% engaged and eager to do whatever he could to make it good for his partner too. He moaned wantonly, trying and failing to keep his hips still, dropping his head back against Alastor’s shoulder just to be closer to him. The Radio Demon chuckled at his enthusiasm and nibbled along his neck, sharp teeth deliciously dangerous against soft skin.

“Harder,” Angel whispered, and he obliged without hesitation, biting down hard enough that Angel was sure he would have a bruise—but he still wasn’t satisfied. “I said harder, honey.”

Alastor hummed his approval and sank his teeth viciously into Angel’s neck, the force enough to buckle his knees. Good thing he was kneeling already. Al made a point of lapping up whatever blood he’d spilled, even gathering a few stray drops with his fingers and licking it off. Meaning that when his hand slid between Angel’s legs again, it was slick and wet, enough to pull a shocked cry of pleasure from his lips.

“I didn’t…I really didn’t expect you to be this good,” he laughed shakily.

“No? What did you expect?” Alastor’s other hand slid up the curve of his waist and into the thick fur of his chest to banish any space between them. “I’m curious, chéri: what have you been imagining?”

“Well. I figured you’d be kinda…forceful like this,” Angel answered, trying to distract himself from the slow strokes on his heated flesh, the way Alastor’s fingertips seemed to be mapping out every curve of his body. So calm, so thorough, and shockingly effective. “But, uh…I dunno, maybe a little clumsy? So much for that.” It was also surprising him how difficult holding a conversation was; normally guys weren’t interested in talking to him, especially in bed.

“Why bother doing a thing if you aren’t going to do it well, that’s what I always say.” Alastor took his hand away, and Angel almost whined, almost begged him to keep going—but his breath caught as something else curled around his erection, something slender and flexible like a… Like a shadow tentacle, he realized. Holy shit. The Radio Demon was apparently kinkier than he let on, but Angel could hardly complain when it all felt so good.

As his body was burning up and he was really losing track of his breath, he rested his head back against Alastor’s shoulder and turned to murmur into his ear. “Will you, uh, kiss me again?”

“Hmm. You like having your mouth full that much?” Al teased, and a shiver of hot embarrassment (and something else) rushed through Angel’s stomach.

“Well, I”—he swallowed hard—“I like when it’s your tongue.”

Alastor let out a low groan and held him even tighter. “Whatever you need, chéri.” One of his hands found its way into Angel’s hair again, and this time his kiss was brutal, bruising, urgent. Perfect. But he was no slouch at multitasking, his shadow magic just as precise and attentive as his hand was, and all this friction between Angel’s legs and lips was driving him out of his mind.

Remembering what Al had said about wanting to hear him, he didn’t bother stifling his moans, not for a second, his pitch and volume rising every moment that Alastor toyed with him. Fuck, it’s so hot. I can’t handle it! I… He could hardly even keep his own thoughts straight, too lost in feeling every single second of this, getting closer and closer until his willpower finally broke and he came with a breathy scream. His instinct was to pull away to catch his breath, but Alastor kept him trapped, apparently content to swallow every deep, desperate whimper that slipped out of his lips as he rode out his orgasm.

Eventually, after several more seconds of enjoying his mouth, Alastor drew away and let him gasp for air but still refused to allow any space between them. He even nuzzled his lips slowly against Angel’s neck, and a different, totally non-sexual warmth flooded through him. “That…that was… Uh, wow,” he laughed, and Alastor snickered along with him.

“Good to know my ‘weirdness about sex’ didn’t ruin it for you.”

“No way. It was better,” Angel told him without thinking. “Maybe just cuz it was you.”

“Ahem!” He could imagine Alastor’s bashful smile, which was very slightly different from his nervous smile or his apprehensive one.

“So?” Angel shifted carefully to sit up, tugging at the bonds still holding his wrists. “You gonna let me spend the night or…?”

“Let you? I would be bothered if you didn’t. Besides.” With another snap of Alastor’s fingers, a lamp in the corner glowed to life, casting soft red light across the room. Shouldn’t that be creepy? Unnerving? Angel felt totally comfortable. “I think you’d find it difficult to get upstairs in your state.” To illustrate, he pushed Angel forward lightly, and he easily collapsed against the bed, shaky now that he was no longer being supported.

“Twist my arm, why don’t ya,” he answered, wriggling out of his shorts and kicking them, along with his boots, to the floor.

“Oh, is that something else you enjoy? I’ll keep it in mind.” After stripping out of his coat and hanging it in the closet, Alastor unfastened his cuffs and unbuttoned his shirt a little, then came to crawl into bed still mostly dressed. Angel decided not to question it; if that was how he was comfortable, then fine. When he noticed Angel’s shaking wasn’t stopping, he tilted his head to one side and asked, “Is something wrong?”

“No, no.” Angel tried to still himself, hoping not to ruin the mood after everything had gone so well. “I’m fine. Just…tryna calm down.” That was a pretty intense session, after all, so his body and mind were still a little overwhelmed.

“I see.” Moving slightly closer without touching him, Alastor instead asked, “Would you like to be near me while you do so?”

His reflexive and honest answer was yes, please—but he hesitated to speak it, not wanting to come off clingy or weak. “I mean, you don’t hafta do that. If you gimme a couple minutes, I’ll—”

“You aren’t answering my question, cher,” Alastor pointed out, very carefully brushing his thumb over Angel’s cheek. Even that tiny bit of gentle affection was a huge comfort after so much intensity. Angel’s resistance quickly broke.

“Yeah. I would.” He wriggled a little closer under the covers to put himself in Alastor’s arms, and the Radio Demon held him without question, stroking his hair and humming to him softly while he slowly relaxed. So weird. So different. But different in a way Angel could definitely see himself getting used to. “You better be careful, honey. Keep bein’ this nice to me and I might start gettin’ confused about what you actually want here.”

“That would make two of us,” Alastor answered quietly. But he didn’t back away, didn’t get uncomfortable, didn’t kick Angel out of his bed. He didn’t make any effort to insist that this was just about sex (since it obviously wasn’t) or that Angel shouldn’t get his hopes up for anything more. Which was a good thing, because as he leaned down for another kiss—slow and soft this time—Angel’s hopes were rising higher and higher all the time. How long had it been since he’d felt hopeful about anything? He wasn’t even sure what he expected to happen, but damn it: he’d forgotten how good it felt to believe in something.

#RadioDust #Hazbin Angel Dust #Hazbin Alastor #look I have a lot of feelings okay #One Good Turn #Radio Dust #Angel x Alastor

36 notes · View notes

cherrykadeu · 4 years

Text

The tarot tent

Lughnasadh Festival; Tarot Tent. You enter the tarot tent. The walls are a deep purple and the floor is covered with an intricately patterned dark rug. Everything is lit by candlelight and the woman who will read your fortune appears ageless. She could be nine hundred or she could be twenty, you would believe either statement.

It was still daylight when Nari decided to enter that tent, pulling some velvet curtains apart so that she could transport herself from the loud noise of the rest of the event to the quiet interior of the tent. The young gumiho was able to notice her senses sharpening the moment she entered the tent, she could smell the slight scent of lavender, sage and other scent that she had not yet been able to identify in the air. Her head was turned upwards, while her dark gaze was observing the deep purple fabric decorating every wall, there were certain sections of it that shone, it was as if she were watching a starry sky.

Only when she stumbled over the intricate dark rug that covered the entire floor of that space did her gaze finally land on the woman in front of her, she felt her heart accelerate more from the shame of being so clumsy and having almost fallen, than from fear of the fall itself. Her ankle was finally recovered, it would be nice if she didn't get injured again, unfortunately most days she still thought her fox shape was easier to control than her more human one.

“Sorry...” the words came out too softly, as for fear of disturbing that atmosphere even more, the woman did not give any answer or if she gave one Nari was too busy straightening the edge of the carpet that had folded after she had stumbled on it to notice any kind of response coming from the other woman.

Her nose wrinkled slightly as she approached that small round table, adorned by a towel the same shade as the walls and with some golden details, the only things resting on the surface were a deck of tarot cards, a small bowl that burned the herbs that Nari had smelled when she first entered and the woman's hands clasped together, every finger adorned with a different ring. The gumiho sat on the opposite side calmly, the woman kept looking at her and Nari did the same. She had long hair up to her waist, one light blue eye and the other a dark brown, but she didn't look much older than Nari and as much as she tried to discover something about that woman's nature, the atmosphere was too thick and confusing for her to be able to focus on just one thing - maybe this was all set up like this to confuse someone like her.

The two silver coins that were hidden in Nari's fist were placed on top of the table and then removed by the woman who instantly started shuffling that deck of tarot cards. Then, all those cards were scattered on that surface, in the shape of a half moon, all facing down and at the disposal of Nari. "Choose ten" said the other woman in a hoarse voice, Nari thought she shouldn't think too much about her decision, besides all the cards looked the same and so there was no danger of preferring one over the other, just for because of its appearance. She pulled three from the beginning, five from the middle and two from the end towards her.

The smile reached the woman's eyes as she put away all the remaining cards, then sorting the chosen ones and proceeding to turn them over one at a time. The suspense kept Cherry on the edge of her seat while she waited for the other woman to explain the true meanings of those cards to her, she was sure if she had her tail now she would be wagging with enthusiasm.

"Temperance, Queen of Pentacles, Seven of Swords" as those names were being said, the woman pointed to each of the cards she was referring to, Nari's gaze following her index finger with her gaze. The first looked like an angel, the second kind of looked like a woman, the appearance of the third card did not please Cherry and even without her knowing its meaning a look of disdain had already appeared on her face. “You are a very strong woman, it gives you the will to move forward and to obtain whatever you want, both personally and emotionally, however this has also been the source of many problems in your past. But even if you’re questioning so many things in your life, you have to remember that what really matters is your desire for a better life, not the wounds from your past. Remember that and you will succeed, that attitude will give you many opportunities” this managed to make a smile appear on Nari’s lips, who seemed satisfied with these first words. She nodded several times in the form of a silent request for the woman to continue.

"Knight of Cups, Ace of Pentacles, Four of Wands, Ten of Pentacles" the same routine was done, but this time the gumiho was more concerned with hearing the explanation than with judging the appearance of the cards. “This draw shows a relationship coming your way in a few weeks” these words caused a confused expression to cross Nari's face and she finally looked at the woman in front of her as if asking if she was sure. "This doesn’t seem right" she murmured, but the other woman seemed to choose to ignore her, although by the way she smiled Nari knew that she had heard her and maybe even was having fun with her reactions. “Nothing to worry about, my dear, he is an attentive, reliable and reassuring man you know well, who is represented by those two cards in front of you: the Knight of Cups and Ace of Pentacles” Nari almost chuckled at that, she knew a lot of men and none of them fitted that description. “You are prepared for this situation and will able to seize this opportunity during the month of August. However, you will have to free yourself from some difficult memories, including a wound that is represented by the Four of Wands. Let go of your past, so you can enjoy the present and so the future can be even brighter.” This left the young gumiho feeling confused, she wasn’t expecting a relationship at all and she had no idea what that wound from the past could possibly be. She positioned her elbow on the table, before resting her chin on the palm of her hand, perhaps this had been a waste of money. "You seem to be going through a crucial period in your life during which you could build a beautiful love story alongside a loving individual." The gumiho rolled her eyes, right, that will definitely happen. “You are an intelligent, intuitive, and slightly impulsive person. When it comes to trusting a man, you think long and hard about it. And yet, the cards you have drawn evoke a relationship based on trust and sharing. This man could play a role in your life that keeps getting more important, and together you could create a constructive love story. This draw highlights an outstretched hand. The hand is his, and should you choose to take it, he could lead you to a warm and tender destiny. Remember that it is always your choice in the end”she didn’t know if she should feel bored or sad for not believing any of these words, part of her wished that all of this was true, that all of this was really possible. “In the long term, the Ace of Pentacles reminds you of the material nature of existence. Your well-being doesn’t necessarily depend on the excessive accumulation of wealth, but nevertheless requires financial stability. To feel serene, learn to define your goals.” Nari felt herself becoming distracted again, the way she leaned back against the chair and the way she looked around were all signs of her loss of interest, she didn't even bother looking back at the top of the table while the woman continued to speak.

“From a professional point of view, the Seven of Swords indicates deception. The world of work can sometimes be rough, especially when people’s interests collide. To maintain your position, you will need to remain cautious and not trust appearances. There are some things that cannot be seen at the moment, and it is quite possible people are acting behind your back. The important thing will be to be tactful enough to create safe passage through these power games.” The gumiho scoffed, crossing her arms, this much was true, however she came here expecting to hear nice, encouraging things, every girl she had talked at The Red Dragon always told her how wonderful this experience was, how good it felt to have your destiny being unraveled, to have all your questions answered, however Nari was feeling annoyed by it all. She quickly got up, cutting off the woman as she was about to speak again. “Thank you so much” the gumiho responded quickly, giving the woman a warm smile, she did not want to be impolite, but she was getting too restless to just stay put, the woman only nodded back at her as if understanding her reaction, as if she wasn’t the first person to have left so suddenly.

“What a load of rubbish” she murmured to herself as she stood at the entrance of the tent once again, the slight breeze helping her cool down as she looked around to see what she should do next, she wasn’t quite ready to head home yet. “I should go eat something”

#kadeu: plot drop;#the tarot tent;#well she lost her patience #she just wants to be held : (#doesn't think she deserves it tho

4 notes · View notes