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hrefna-the-raven · 7 months

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The devil you do

Masterlist - BG3 masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Words: 1818

Summary: you might indeed do the devil ;-)

Warnings: smut (18+)

Your group finally made it to Baldur's Gate and you were glad that everyone decided to split up and get their things done, at least for one day. The constant looks and questions about Raphael started to annoy you, especially since you still had idea what to tell them. It wasn't as if you could just confess that you felt a certain pull towards the devil, they would never understand it, not even Wyll.

As you aimlessly roamed the streets on your way to Wyrm's Rock, a sudden impulse compelled you to ascend the stairs adjacent to Sharess Caress. The reason behind this mysterious inclination remained unknown, but deep within you, a stirring sensation emerged, as if an unseen power had taken control of your body, guiding your every move. Eventually, your footsteps halted before a door, and your gaze instinctively fell upon the plaque adorning it. A smile gradually spread across your face as you absorbed the words etched into it: Devil's Den. Without hesitation, your hand reached for the doorknob, only to be surprised by the door swinging open, revealing Raphael in his human form. His characteristic smug grin adorned his countenance as he warmly invited you inside.

"I see my little mouse caught her cat's sent", he playfully remarked, motioning for you to enter.

The chamber was softly illuminated by an array of scarlet and ebony candles, creating an intimate and romantic ambiance. Your eyes wandered towards a table positioned in the centre of the room. It was adorned with a crimson cloth and adorned with an assortment of delicacies from various corners of Faerûn. However, you couldn't help but observe that a majority of the dishes were precisely the ones you would consider your personal favourites. A smile crept across your face, realising that he had gone to great lengths to make everything seem perfect for you.

"I can tell that someone has put a lot of thought into the decorations and food choices. Although I was still waiting for a response about whether you would accept the deal or not, I have to ask, what is the reason behind all this?", you cautiously chuckled, unable to hide the surprise in your eyes as your hand gestured around the room.

"Oh, my dear, don't be so taken aback", Raphael chuckled, "there is no reason why we couldn't discuss our little deal over a delicious meal", He firmly held onto the back of the chair, pushing it slightly forward as you sat down, before leaning closer, whispering in your ear, "the devil is, after all, in the detail."

"Before we delve into this conversation," you reached out and took hold of his hand as he passed by, "may I request a favour?"

"That would depend on the nature of the favour."

"I would like to have this discussion with the devil I know, not the human guise you wear."

Raphael's smile widened and with a snap of his fingers, his human form ignited in flames, transforming into his hellish form as he tenderly kissed your hand.

"That can be arranged."

Raphael settled into a chair on the opposite side of the table, his majestic wings neatly folded alongside him. His head embellished by four black horns, his burning orange eyes and sharp claws added to his imposing presence. Despite his seated position and a well-groomed appearance, his infernal nature still exuded an impressive and slightly intimidating aura. The two of you sat in silence for a while, enjoying each other's company, savouring the exquisite meal and fine wine. It was a moment of tranquillity before the inevitable truth threatened to tarnish the connection you shared.

Internally conflicted, the devil grappled with the decision he had made. By choosing to embrace the truth this time, he risked everything. Yet, he had agreed to the deal and sealed it with a kiss, leaving no room for retreat, not even for a smug hellish bastard than him. All his schemes, deceptions, manipulations and the meticulously planned coincidences, it would all cease to exist in a moment. If he had misinterpreted the signs even slightly, he stood to lose more than just his carefully crafted plan; he stood to lose you. However, you were oblivious to his inner turmoil, unable to hide your own nervousness. Perhaps you dreaded the revelation of the absolute truth for entirely different reasons.

"It's time for your end of the bargain", you finished your glass of wine and set it on the table, your gaze lingering on the devil.

"Indeed it is", he sighed, "you intrigue me, little mouse, one might say that I've grown quite fond of you, you know, in my own way."

You observed a subtle fracture in his usual confident facade, his wings twitching momentarily as he uttered the final words, so softly that it almost resembled a mere murmur.

"Quite too fond, actually", the devil rose from his seat and cautiously approached you, while gesturing around with his usual theatrics, "you know who and what I am, you know the rules of hell so I won't say this twice as just this once might already get me into more trouble then you're worth it", His hand gently clasped yours, his other hand delicately tracing its claws along your skin, "from the moment I laid eyes on you, I sensed something special. There was an undeniable connection between us, intertwining my... heart with..."

Raphael shut his eyes, exhaling a trembling breath, unable to complete his sentence despite the deal the two of you had.

"Mine", you whispered tenderly, placing his hand against your chest, "I felt it too."

You pulled him closer, leaning in, your mouths colliding in a fervent embrace.

"The chase ends now", you breathed heavily as you broke the kiss,attempting to distance yourself, but Raphael held you firmly.

"And what does that mean to you?", he inquired, a trace of unease lingering in his voice.

"That the cat has caught the mouse and will finally devour it", you replied, your fingertips trailing up his arm before gently caressing his cheek.

Raphael clasped his fingers around your wrists, guiding your arms away which drew you closer to him, his face drawing near as his tongue cautiously grazed your lower lip, prompting a shameless whimper from you.

"I will devour you over and over again, my little mouse, until you scream my name so loud for all the nine hells to hear it."

He effortlessly lifted you, gracefully carrying you into the other room, where he gently set you down on the bed. As soon as your butt made contact with the plush mattress, your clothes vanished into thin air leaving you both naked. When you glanced upwards, your eyes met the gaze of a demon brimming with insatiable desire, accompanied by a mischievous smirk. You could hardly formulate a clever remark before sensing his firm grasp on your legs, parting them and drawing you closer to the edge of the bed. He lowered himself onto his knees and trailed his tongue over your wet folds. The sensation was scorching, surpassing the warmth of a typical human tongue. The contrast in temperature heightened your arousal, causing you to release a passionate moan.

"Finally mine", he groaned inbetween licks.

His pace quickened relentlessly, you took hold of his horns, pushing his face further against you in a desperate attempt to gain more of that intoxicating pleasure. He let out a low chuckle against your wetness, eagerly sucking at your clit, coaxing even more of those delightful sounds of pleasure from your lips.

"Raphael, I-"'

He immediately retreated, pushing you away as he crawled over you.

"Oh no, my little mouse, we're going to do this together," he smirked.

"Together? Indeed", you mused, "but the cat won't be in charge this time."

Enchantment coursed through your veins and with a burst of energy, you flung him off of you and trapped him in a seated position at the edge of the bed. Slowly, teasingly, you moved closer to him, planting kisses and nibbles on his inner thigh before dragging your tongue along his length, provokingly slow. A deep groan rumbled dangerously in the devil's chest, his breath growing heavier as you straddled him, your hands intertwining in his hair.

"No one has ever dared this before", Raphael hissed, trying to disrupt the spell you had cast over him until he felt you positioning his cock at your dripping entrance.

"Well devil, let me be your first then", you grinned mischievously and slid down on him, moaning loudly. Raphael's head tilted backwards, his mouth agape, revealing his pointed fangs, yet no utterance escaped his lips, completely devoid of all control. He would never confess it, but the sensation of helplessness in your presence was exhilarating, stirring a profound excitement within him. Your name slipped from his tongue like a sacred invocation, a testament to his longing and desire. Your concentration wavered with each movement, plunging into the pleasure of the devil filling you up completely, hitting that sweet spot over and over again, inevitably resulting in your spell weakening. As soon as Raphael noticed this, one of his hands found its way to your hips, his claws gently digging into your soft flesh, guiding your movements to urge you to go faster and you were more than willing to oblige. Your lips clashed on his, his feral growls muffled by a passionate kiss as the both of you neared the brink of climax dangerously fast and your hands settled on Raphael's chest, feeling his excillerated heartbeat, surrendering completely to the ecstasy and you both finally came undone at the same time. Your walls clenched around his cock and your felt his hot seed filling you up.

Raphael lifted you up, slowly making his way up the bed. He positioned you on top of him, wrapping his wings protectively around you as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. You couldn't help but giggle at his unexpected tenderness, lovingly cupping his cheek. "Well, well, who would have imagined that a devil could be so sweet?" you playfully remarked, planting a quick kiss on his neck. "Mhm," Raphael mumbled, "if you dare to share this with anyone, I might just have to punish you."

"Punish me, huh?", you responded daringly as you rubbed your teasingly against his cock which earned you a deep groan from him.

"Are you sure you're not a devil, my little temptress?", the cambion chuckled, his arms around you tightening.

"It takes one to know one", you replied, feigning an innocent and sweet tone in your voice.

Resting your head on his chest, you listened to the soothing rhythm of his calm heartbeat. The warmth of his skin enveloped you, lulling your exhausted self into a peaceful slumber. It had been a long time since you had felt such tranquillity and security. If someone had told you that you would find all of this in the arms of a devil, you would have laughed and called them insane.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #raphael #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3 #raphael x reader #raphael x you #hidden feelings #raphael is a sexy devil #confessions #the truth #smut #raphael smut

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iloveaustinelvisandmannymore · 3 months

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Flirting with death.

Pairing: Male Wednesday addams x reader

Warnings: Sword fighting with real dangerous swords, Flirting, Kissing, Blood kink? Kinda yandere Wednesday. Mi Alma: my soul.

The world seemed to fade as you stared into his coal eyes, a tiny lift of his corner lip reserved for you alone. The room is silent as if holding its breath, walls watching impatiently for the fight to begin. He was ready and so were you.

A creak above and your swords clashed together. "it's disgustingly cute that you think you have a chance." Wednesday tilted his head slowly, a faint teasing undertone in his normal deadpanned voice. "Aw you think im cute." you purred, using all your strength and pushing him back before lunging at him, aiming for his stomach, like you thought he merely stepped to the side, avoiding your thrust all together.

"Is that all you got Mi Alma?" he asked, walking back to give you time to attack him. You grunted softly "Not quite." and pulled out your blade from the wall it got stuck in. You advanced once more this met with a parry, and this continued for a while, till sweat slowly trailed off your body, Wednesday was unfazed, of course. "Done so soon?" Wednesday taunted, emotionlessly, positioning his sword up and placing one arm behind his back. "Nah, where's the fun in that." you wiped the sweat off of your forehead and got up from your kneeling position. "Pity." he hummed, and unexpectedly striking, missing your neck by a hair, you gasped as you parried his stabs and swings, each one getting stronger.

You had to think of something! His sword swung at your legs when your idea struck you. Jumping and landing on his sword below you. "Touché." You smirked at his stuck form as you pointed your sword in his face. Pride bloomed in your chest for the first time, you won but that feeling withered away as a big smile graced your boyfriend's lips, he only smiled that way when he was about to torture someone. Suddenly he yanked his weapon out from under your feet, knocking you and your blade down, the hard barely carpeted floor met your butt, and a wave of pain shot throughout your body, "Get up, Mi Alma." Wednesday order, and you slowly obeyed, the cold metal of the sword laid flat against your cheek as you stood up. With a flick of his wrist, his blade sliced a bit of your cheek, so fast you barely had time to hiss in pain. The weapon dropped to the floor beside your feet as Wednesday, stepped closer to you gracefully and wiped the small flow of blood away, "Wednesday?" you questioned softly, his ebony eyes focused on your wound, unreadable like always. "Red is an exquisite color on you." He muttered, spreading your blood upon your lips like lipstick before he kissed you, with a passion you hadn't known that he had. The overwhelming taste of iron and a little bit of faded mint made you cringe yet you allowed his pink muscle to swirl around yours, locked in a battle of their own. When you pulled away, a tinted pink string of saliva connected you to Wednesday before it snapped as he smiled again, "I can't wait to cover you in red, Mi Alma."

#male wednesday addams x reader #male wednesday #yandere wednesday addams #genderbend wednesday #the addams family #the addams family x reader

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angelic-dew · 1 year

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yandere kokushibo headcannons !

✧༉‧₊˚୨ 📎 ୧・author's note; ooooo~ I haven't made a banner in so long- I hope this came out decent lol

✧༉‧₊˚୨ 👁 ୧・request :: " Hiiii :) Idk if you take requests for this fandom but please do either Kokushibo or Inosuke yan hcs please! btw love your work <33 "

✧༉‧₊˚୨ 🍙 ୧・pairing; Yandere ! Kokushibo x G/N reader ( with you/your pronouns.)

✧༉‧₊˚୨✖୧・trigger warnings; yandere behavior (obviously), possessive nature, stalking, kidnapping, mentions of human flesh/organs, cannibalism, murderous tendencies and motives, delusions, eye puns, jealousy, small mentions of sexual intercourse but not detailed, grammatical errors and descriptions of gore. if you are sensitive towards this content, please dni for it will be mentioned.

⚝. Just a reminder I don't tolerate nor do I encourage the following topics in reality; I like keeping it strictly to fiction.

ॄ⿻🍙 | Oh my, this was certainly a new feeling, wasn't it? it's been centuries since he's ever felt this way; so passionate, so needy, his eyes filled with pure desire and want for his precious angel. In fact, he recalls never ever feeling this sort of emotion even in his human life, he has never felt this way; surely, this feeling he was getting had a reasonable answer, right?

ॄ⿻👁 | Whenever he saw you passing by from within the shadows, the heat suddenly rises to his face and creates such an adorable, faint yet visible blush to the naked eye which tints his pale cheeks rather nicely. It could've just been particularly hot out! that's the explanation. Or maybe how his heart tends to skip a beat every now and then, maybe even getting a playful swarm of butterflies to cheerfully waltz around in his stomach each time he catches a mere glimpse of your angelic, seraphic smile. He didn't know what to make of himself in those moments indeed. It was probably due to the fact he hasn't been feasting enough! That's a reasonable explanation.

ॄ⿻🍙 | Still! the demon could not bring himself to come to reasonable terms with all of this pandemonium brewing within him. The eccentric, yet painstaking feeling of utter lust coursing through his veins at each passing moment of each passing day. It was beyond repulsive towards him, disgusting, terrible. However, as much as he attempted to fight the urge within he was weak. Pitiful. Even deficient in his trials to forget about you. You were a necessary staple in his life.

ॄ⿻👁 | He needed more of you! just a small glance was worth a hundred years off his immortality and so it would be worth it. Just to see your majestic, soft locks of hair gently sway in the wind as your nose crinkled up like paper from your adorable, genuine smile; it was truly, a sight for sore eyes and indeed a sight that should only be put on display for him and for him only.

ॄ⿻🍙 | He would stalk you, if it wasn't obvious by now, always keeping a close but distant eye(s) away from you during the periods when the luminescent moon would shine the brightest in the ebony, galactic ether. Watching your motionless body rest ever so peacefully, observing your physique for all your features. Your curves to your smallest noticeable features. Even counting your breathing patterns by the second as you lay there, unaware but peaceful.

ॄ⿻👁 | Heavenly, was the only word to describe your appearance to Kokushibo. Your looks were unmatched by another, everything about you was absolutely divine and exquisite. Your skin was so perfect, your hair was always the most gorgeous sight to intake, your soft locks always complimented your body nicely; your eyes as well, they were truly breath-taking. You were just an angel sent from heaven, for him.

ॄ⿻🍙 | Kokushibo would also take it upon himself to gain entail on your interests, hobbies and routine, but of course, in doing that, there will always be an obstacle to overcome. The worst part per se. There's always those disgusting, foul humans that try to talk and get close to his angel, do they even know they're infecting you with their filthy nature? Those mortals didn't even know the upper rank 1 placed his eyes on you first, his precious, and he won't let anything be a problem when it comes to you. He can't afford for it to happen.

ॄ⿻👁 | Although Kokushibo looks solemn through it all, his blood is at boiling levels your mind would not be able to comprehend. If looks could kill, daggers would be piercing those repulsive creatures left, right and centre by now. However, he must refrain from taking action at that point in time, patience is key. Especially in daylight where he watches from the shadows, it makes him feel tedious when he sees those interactions between his angel and those pesky parasites.

ॄ⿻🍙 | So for inraging the upper moon 1, he takes matters into his own hands and prepares a full night of torture for his most unfortunate victims who cross paths with you. He loves to use his bare nails to ever so slowly create gashes within the poor human's flesh before tearing a limb off clean from its socket. Kokushibo absolutely adores the screams and cries of pure agony they make from the immense torture but that's only the beginning, for the fortunate victims.

ॄ⿻👁 | I do like to imagine he has performed a 'surgery' on one of his most pestilent 'patients' who flirted with you that faithful day. It was rather fun and such a bloody sight! Sharp, quick tears of human flesh being split open under broad, soft moonlight through the thick canopy of trees. Having a marvelous display of the human anatomy, from the muscles to the ribs of the person. It seems as if Kokushibo skinned them alive.

ॄ⿻🍙 | With their muscles being torn open slowly with the assistance of his powerful jaws; revealing the skeletal structure as well as slimy organs pulsing. Only an expressionless look could be found on Kokushibo's face as his mouth is drenched in the blood of his victim's. Finally, to end this suffering once and for all, he caresses the human's heart before gouging it out completely with one tight pull.

ॄ⿻👁 | For days! screams of pain, sorrow and agony emanated from the dense forest. Corpses and mutilated bodies were the only things left behind afterwards. It was the act of a malicious creature indeed.

ॄ⿻🍙 | With time you became paranoid that you'd be next on the hit list since others whom you loved and were with you always vanished, the only last traces of them being their unrecognizable corpse after. How sad. Little did you know, the person who was causing these disappearances was growing tired of having you by yourself. He needed to have you, feel you, touch you, be with you.

ॄ⿻👁 | So thats what he did, after one night of finally holding your limp body fast asleep within his strong arms and which were much dirty from previous matter, he finally had you in his grasp. And it felt amazing! The mass amounts of waves of pure pleasure flooded over him at the simple touch of your bare skin, it was great.

ॄ⿻🍙 | Soon after, you awoke when the sun just peaked over the horizon, confusion looming through the atmosphere. You weren't in your room, you weren't home, you were unfamiliar with everything in this place. Surely, it looked cozy and nice but you were horrified. What could this place be?

ॄ⿻👁 | You did some exploring of the cozy home and found and exit, opening it to only be revealed to upper moon one. And he was touring and big compared to your built. His blank stare was cold and you could feel shivers and cold sweat running down your back gradually. He smiled softly. Your blood ran cold as he spoke up to introduce himself to you, before laying down some ground rules.

ॄ⿻🍙 | You weren't a pet so that was utter crap! no matter how many protests you put up he always was calm and eerily quiet about it. However, that doesn't mean you'd get off scot-free, your punishments were never usually sexual, that was used as a reward; if you were comfortable with it. But they did consist of you being isolated for extended periods of time without food and barely any drink or you were forced to eat cooked flesh from your own kind.

ॄ⿻👁 | He would never hurt you though but don't test him too much, his patience isn't to be taken for granted. Attempt one slick move and a bone will be broken to prevent further instances. Isn't that fair darling? He's only giving you what you wanted; anything you could possibly want from the prettiest clothing to the shinest jewelry to the most delicious food. He can do it all, just love him!

ॄ⿻🍙 | Muzan would probably not care about his newfound obsession. For the most part, he'd encourage Kokshibo to be with you, only feeding into his tendencies; as long as it does not disturb his work. So, there's really no happy end, for you, however, he does have a different story to tell. Maybe you'll love him, cherish him like how he does with you. Show him the affection that he's always dreamed of! Be his. He'd do anything to protect his angel.

ॄ⿻👁 | And for the record, there are all six eyes on you, I suggest you don't plan on anything foolish.

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accio-victuuri · 7 months

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vogue plus interview ( spend the weekend with wang yibo ):

Every time I mention Chanel, I have to mention it again and again. Referring to Chanel’s apartment at 31 rue Cambon, legendary mirror staircase, oriental ebony lacquered screen and more. A series of familiar terms evoke people's countless memories and have also deepened everyone's understanding of yearning. This week on TGIF, we will be following Wang Yibo for a stroll through Chanel’s high-end boutiques, Workshop Center le19M Building and 31 rue Cambon Madame Chanel’s Residence, Embroidered in Montex, the exquisite craftsmanship of the Goossens gold and silver jewelry workshop, and the home of Gabrielle Chanel. Experience Chanel classics in your collection.

At the same time, Wang Yibo also shared his weekend planswith us , what he will do this weekend that might help bring you some inspiration.

What impresses you the most in Paris?

The atmosphere of freedom, romance & art

How do you usually spend your weekends?

There doesn't seem to be much difference between weekends & non-weekends

Do you prefer night/day?

As long as you can do what you like, that's fine

#wang yibo #yibo in paris #accio victuuri translation

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alwaysbewoke · 1 month

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natalievoncatte · 8 months

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"In the end, you can only count on blood."

Lena stood there in Lex's stronghold, staring him down as best she could, and it was still pathetic. He wanted to tell her, to see her face crumble as he explained to her in exquisite detail how weak and pathetic she was. Good God, the woman had given herself a glow-up before confronting him. Who goes to their supervillain brother's secret base, intent on challenging him, in heels? With that shade of makeup? She was still playing the sexpot, unthinkingly using her "advantages" the way that their father had trained her to, when he'd first used her to distract a rival at the negotiating table. At the time, Lex had been disgusted, and confronted the old man privately, earning himself a few bruises.

Over a decade later, he wondered how he hadn't seen it sooner. So desperate for belonging, for approval. Beneath the power suits and fuck me pumps, she was just a little girl crying for her teddy bear, endlessly searching for someone to pat her widdle head and tell her it was okay, and she'd latched onto the Kryptonian of all people. He understood her proclivities, even if he didn't share them, or much interest in the act generally, and on an aesthetic level he knew why Lena was drawn to Kara Danvers, but how could she be so dense?

No, he had to play this properly. He'd written this little drama piece by piece, laying out the steps for her to follow, just as he'd manipulated her so many times at the chess table. All he had to do was pick up the remote on the table beside him and show her the truth, watch her crumble, and when she was reduced to rubble on the floor, rebuild her properly. She'd be his apprentice yet, be worthy. For all her faults, his half-sister was the closest thing he'd ever to know an equal, a worthy partner.

So worthy was she, in fact, that she smoothly swept back her jacket, and in a practiced motion, drew the revolver she carried in a basket-weave, FBI-cant holster on her strong side. Lex recognized it; he gave it to her. A Smith and Wesson J-Frame Ladysmith with custom ebony wood grips. The very one that Lex had gifted Lena on her twenty-first birthday, having already taught her to shoot on the grounds of the family estate.

"This is no time for theatrics, dear sister," said Lex.

Lena responded by shooting him twice, missing his heart. The pain was towering, enormous, and he was on the ground before he realized he'd fallen. Nothing had ever hurt this much.

In his usual detached way, he assessed. Gurgling when he breathed and copper on his breath: she'd hit a lung. When he pulled his hand back from one of the wounds, the blood was a rich, earthy red. Gutshot, then, too. Sadistic, if it was intentional. From the way her hand was shaking it probably wasn't.

"The world will never be safe with you in it," Lena choked out, still holding the gun in front of her as if it might shield her from what she'd done.

"Pathetic," Lex choked out. "Just as I thought." The gurgling came harder now.

He was going to die; that was inevitable. But he'd still get his licks in. They probably thought the Harun-El, or Red Daughter, or the Lexosuit were his master-stroke, but no, it was more intimate. More subtle. He willed himself to draw breath, commanded by force of will that blood keep carrying oxygen to his brain. Despite the agony ripping through him at every breath, he carried on. This made it worth it.

Oh, yes, she'd killed Lex Luthor, but he'd destroy her.

"What will you be without me? You have no one, and nothing."

She seemed confused. How had Lex ever thought that this bovine, dull creature could be worthy of ruling the world beside him? She had some low cunning and a technician's aptitude for laboratory work, but she was no peer of his.

"Go back and cry to your friends," he croaked. "All of them have been mocking you. Alex and Jimmy, your boyfriend, and that little alien runt, and her most of all. The truth was right in front of your face."

He managed to reach the remote and activate the monitors, relief flooding through him, cooling the heat of his dying. Lex slumped back, watching Lena watch her world unravel.

"They've been lying to you all this time, her most of all. Kara Danvers." He pronounced the name carefully, adding the proper Kryptonian inflection to Kara's name.

This. This was the thrust that ended the duel, the cutting stroke, the killing blow. He watched her eyes widen.

"Even your own mother has been lying to you. It's been right there the whole time."

Lena looked at him, the gun drooping in her hand. She looked at the monitor, back to him. Her expression hardened, twisting into a scowl. Perfect. She might even still be able to save him. He knew she was worthless now, of course, but she would be easily to manipulate and once she followed his instructions and healed his wounds, the guilt would take over and-

She was still looking at him. He met her gaze.

"Kara Danvers is Supergirl," Lex croaked out.

Lena's voice was heavy with sadness.

"I know."

Fuck.

Lena pulled the trigger. Lex saw a flash but heard no sound, felt no pain. It was simply over.

It was, but he wasn't.

Somehow, he did not hear, but sensed Lena leaving, not by the clack of her heels on concrete or the explosive rush of pressure as she stole his damned portal watch, but by some other means he didn't understand.

This was odd.

Lex hadn't counted on there being an afterlife. Nor had he considered that it would be so pedestrian and mundane, and that he'd end up staring down at his own body from above. The tunnel of light was probably next; going into said light was most likely, at least for Lex Luthor, an amazingly terrible idea.

This was truly strange. He supposed he should have been in shock and awed at the entire situation, but all he could really feel was a kind of confusion. Looking at his body was like walking the halls of the first boarding school he'd attended, trying to reconcile the memories of a child with the physicality and perspective of an adult who felt too large for those spaces.

In other words, had he really been that short? Had no one had the fortitude to tell him how silly that beard looked?

Lex waited, and started to wonder. Now if this was the afterlife, staring at his own corpse, that would be oddly fitting, in an ironic Greek hell sort of way. He could appreciate the poetry.

Out of of the corner of his eye -or the fringes of his bodyless, formless perception- Lex spotted movement and turned towards it instinctively. A wisp of thick vapor was snaking under the door, curling through the gap. Tendrils of the mist slithered along the floor, spreading and flowing until it surrounded the corpse, which Lex was now more comfortable thinking of as the body rather than my body.

Said mist was filling the room, rising higher and higher. Lex felt a peculiar tug, a nonphysical pull, a kind of involuntary lunge back towards his fallen body. As the mist grew heavier, it reduced the looped footage of Kara using her powers at L-Corp to a glowing blur behind the swirling fog.

Had Lena set the bunker on fire before she left? Perhaps she'd meant to giving him a Viking funeral. He rather liked that.

What he did not like was the jarring sensation of gurgling, pain swelling in his lungs in a molten wave that climbed up his throat, burning its way into a ragged, wet cough that filled his nostrils with metallic stink as surely as if he'd shoved pennies up his nose. He took another breath, or tried to.

Pain rocketed through his body. It felt as if invisible fingers were crudely ripping his wounds closed, knitting the flesh not only carelessly but with deliberate, sadistic glee. Lex cried out and tasted blood on his tongue.

There was a cold floor, hard beneath him. He blinked a few times, the world coming into blurry existence before his now-functional eyes. When he took another breath, the pain had abated, but the memory of it was a non-physical ache, a drag on his lungs nevertheless. As his eyes focused, he realized he was staring up at a new ceiling, in unknown surroundings. The arched stone above his head made him think castle. Maybe he'd been somehow carried off to a bunker in Kaznia, and was about to be interrogated.

Lex sat up.

He was in a castle, indeed. There was a thick carpet under his backside, doing little to protect him from the bitter cold of a hard stone floor. Elaborate tapestries hung on the walls, and in front of them stood heavy, solid bookcases that showed deep age in the wood and craftsmanship, the shelves packed with a vast number of volumes, all of them finely bound. Lex took a few tentative steps and looked over the spines. Most were unmarked. One had a cover of a strange, pale leather that felt loathsome to the touch.

Scanning the room, Lex decided he need to figure out where he was, who brought him here, and attempt to deduce why. It was important, even vital, to project a constant air of control, even if he had no idea what the hell was going on. He'd feel out his captor and find the best posture to start influencing them and guiding them down paths he had already calculated, towards the inevitable goal of escape, and if possible, control. Master of circumstances was Lex's central drive. He didn't play his pieces, he played his opponent; the game itself was merely an exercise in satisfying his intellectual vanity by minimizing the number of moves between opening and checkmate.

So, he assessed.

Wealth. Power. Aristocracy. Those were his first thoughts. The person who owned this place had vast resources and considered themselves vastly important, and to some degree they were right. On the wall opposite the bookcases, Lex found an assortment of arms and armor, full suits of plate on arming racks and heavy longswords and axes, all lovingly cared for.

The room was dominated by a painting. Lex paused to study it; the faded oils depicted, as through a dark glass, a striking young woman of great beauty, dressed in rich regalia. The artist had given her a lively visage, with curious, expressive eyes that were somehow full of mute appeal. She seemed familiar, though the aging of the painting made it difficult for Lex to say how.

Lex heard a scuff of leather and realized he wasn't alone.

At the far end of the room stood a tall man in rich, elaborate, and very antiquated robes and a heavy cloak. Very pale, he had an aristocratic look about him, with jet black hair worn long, swept back from a pronounced windows peak. In one hand, he delicately held a fine golden goblet, and in the other, he regarded some kind of elaborately decorated card; Lex at first thought of the tarot, but it wasn't part of the major or minor arcana, and he didn't recognize the design at all.

He turned and met Lex's gaze.

Lex flinched back and immediately loathed himself for it. He hadn't reacted like this to anyone in years, not since the first time the Kryptonian had paid him a visit. He held the stranger's gaze firmly, though it felt like nails pulled across his skin.

There was an expectant pause. Lex remained still, schooling his features.

"You are Alexander Luthor," the stranger said, gently placing his cup on the broad desk in front of him, settling in a rare open space amongst books and papers.

"My friends call me Lex."

He looked up, considering Lex briefly.

"I have brought you here, and raised you from death at great expense, for a singular purpose, Master Luthor."

Lex spread his hands in a conciliatory gesture.

"What purpose is that?"

"You will tell me everything you know about this woman."

He held something out, clearly expecting Lex to cross the room and accept it. Lex briefly weighed which option was best- to appear obedient and begin his manipulations that way, or force the other man to move from his position of presumed authority and reframe the conversation between them as an exchange between equals.

The moment stretched too long. The stranger's expression darkened slightly. Lex crossed the gap and accepted what turned out to be an eight by ten photograph. He looked at the familiar face.

"Her name is Kara Danvers," said Lex. The photo was her headshot from the CatCo Media website.

God, had no one ever put a picture of Supergirl in Google and done a reverse image search? It was so obvious. She was even more careless than Kent!

"This I know," the man said, taking the picture back. He studied it, lovingly dragging one finger down the edge.

"You seem rather taken with her," said Lex.

The stranger looked up, and carefully slipped the photograph between the pages of one of his books.

"She is important to my plans. I must bring her here, safely and securely, to my home."

Lex couldn't help it, he really couldn't. He barked out a laugh.

"Do you have any idea what you're dealing with? Kara Danvers is Supergirl."

The stranger's eyes flashed with fury, and for a moment, there was something absolutely bestial in his face, his features flowing and changing, twisting into something monstrous and carnivorous.

"It is you who have no idea what you are dealing with, little man," he said.

This wasn't going well.

"I'd be glad to help you, if you help me. I'm sure we can work out a-"

The man moved as fast as a damned Super. He blurred around the desk, suddenly just there, and whipped his hand across Lex's throat. At first, he thought he'd been slapped, but the pain was too sharp, too vital. A hot gush followed it, and Lex realized he was about to die. Again. His throat had been cut.

His knees hit the stone floor and he clutched at his neck, desperate to staunch the flow, but it sluiced between his fingers and spattered on the floor.

The stranger murmured a word, and the air itself seemed to twist around him, bent and mangled by the sound he made as a faint light twisted around his fingers as he bent and curled them in impossible configurations.

The pain of the wound closing was worse than its making; that had been quick, the edge sharp. This felt like someone was grasping Lex's parted flesh with greasy fingers and reshaping it like so much clay.

The stranger looked at the blood splattered on his fingers and hand.

"It is unfortunate that the offal that pollutes your veins is too poor a vintage, Luthor. I would not soil my tongue with it, but perhaps there are others that might be sated by lesser stock."

A hand closed around his neck, and Lex was hauled up, his toes kicking six inches above the floor.

"I could crush you like an insect, remake you, and crush you again," he said, with a strange, mirthless joy in his voice. "You think yourself your world's smartest man. Next to me, you are nothing. Your world is nothing. I have ruled this land for a thousand years. I am beyond your comprehension."

He let go, and Lex fell, rolling with the impact, lucky not to pop something in his knee. He fell onto his side, gasping and struggling to breathe, unsure he still could.

"You will do as you are commanded. You will tell me everything you know of this woman, and hold nothing back. Her origins, her ways, her home, her family, everything you know, and if I am satisfied that you have been suitably forthcoming, I shall reward you by allowing you to live and serve me."

"Who are you?" Lex choked out.

The stranger stared down at him, smiling for the first time, a cold smile without a hint of anything human in it.

"I am the Ancient. I am the Land. I am Strahd."

#supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #kara danvers #supercorp fanfic #supercorp #curse of strahd #crossover au #muahahahahahahahahahaha #welcome to ravenloft miss danvers

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intogenshin · 29 days

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Metropolis influence on Fontaine

Metropolis is a 1927 German silent film about a city divided into upper class surface and working class underground that focuses on the impact of industrialization, at the same time serving as a dystopian allegory for the Bible. If you know any other fictional work with a similar setting, chances are it was inspired by Metropolis either directly or indirectly.

The original footage suffered cuts during the Nazi regime, and although it was restored in the following decades, there’s still missing scenes that are filled with black screens and text. The most complete version is available on YouTube

Visuals

Director Fritz Lang said he was inspired to create the architecture of the city on his trip to New York. Both Metropolis and Fontaine feature ridiculously tall buildings with suspended highways (in Fontaine these are for the Aquabus) that intend to express a futuristic look yet follow the trends of its time.

It is notoriously influenced by the Art Deco movement, which Fontaine also relies on for its overall design (geometry, symmetry, bright colors)

From Wikipedia:

During its heyday, Art Deco represented luxury, glamour, exuberance, and faith in social and technological progress. The movement featured rare and expensive materials, such as ebony and ivory, and exquisite craftsmanship.

The underground workplace of the city also looks like a giant factory, similar to the Fortress of Meropide.

Ideology

Due to the depiction of an exploited class that the elites profit off and the harsh conditions of industrial labor, it is largely considered to be an anti-capitalist movie.

A random review in The New York Times from 1927 acknowledges the antagonist as a capitalist:

We see a similar dynamic between Fontaine City and the Fortress of Meropide, whose convicts produce the mecha that the nation relies on. The convicts stay in the prison after finishing their sentences because they suffer discrimination in the surface, and at Fontaine Research Institute seems to prioritize scientific advancement instead of the lives and health of their workers.

However, to put it simply, a Marxist story it is not. Neither of them.

The Fontaine chapter briefly addresses the inequality between the surface and underground, but doesn’t engage with it any further. And although the plot of the AQ quickly deviates from the themes of class struggle to focus on the bigger picture, it doesn’t betray the narrative of the source material either.

The politics in Metropolis are centrist at best, the workers are lured into committing acts of violence without a purpose other than chaos by an idol of false belief (depicted in the movie as a robot, but it’s meant to be a parallel of pagan gods in the Bible). This same false idol temps the upper class men in the surface into self indulgent pleasure and violence, so the movie equates the motivations of the working class to revolt against a unjust system to that of the ruling class who maintain and abuse that system. Both are naive, unthinking, acting on carnal desire and senseless chaos.

The thesis that the movie presents is one in favor of keeping the hierarchical status quo between the dominating class and the class that is dominated. As if inherently assigning an intellectual role to the upper classes and a manual labor role to the lower, the surface is called the “head” and the underground is called the “hands”, which should be mediated with a “heart”.

Fritz Lang admitted this fault decades later:

“I was not so politically minded in those days as I am now. You cannot make a social-conscious picture in which you say that the intermediary between the hand and the brain is the heart. I mean, that's a fairy tale—definitely. But I was very interested in machines. Anyway, I didn't like the picture—thought it was silly and stupid”

As a side note —and why it matters that the interpretation of the film doesn’t confuse anti-capitalist themes with Marxist ideology— Goebbels, the chief propagandist of the Nazi Party, personally approached the director to ask him to join because Hitler watched and liked Metropolis. Lang refused and escaped Germany due to fear of being targeted for his Jewish ancestry, but the book that the movie is based on was written by his wife, who would join the Nazi Party herself later.

The story aims to maintain the status quo of class while promoting Christianity, a double indoctrination of sorts. It wasn’t odd that Goebbels would value it as a tool for propaganda.

Christianity & Plot

Both stories are based on the Bible, specifically the apocalyptic texts in the Old Testament.

The protagonist plays the role of the messiah (ya boi Jesús) that must mediate between “head” and “hands”, an allegory for the messiah’s role in the Bible that reconciles God with humanity (after the whole dying for their sins business). He switches place with a worker and experiences the underground by himself, the same way god sends his son slash third part of himself to live as a human.

Neuvillette plays this role in the AQ, acting as the “mediator” between the power of the Sovereigns and humans. Beyond that there’s not much similarity with the movie (unless you’re a neuvifuri shipper), but they do make the same points in regards to Christian myth. Neuvillette also has his own arc of living among humans and learning to “be” one.

On the other hand, the character Maria represents Christian values and belief, and acts as a sort of prophetess for the underground people. She preaches about a mediator who will come to save them, and it is her who awakens the protagonist’s curiosity to venture down the underground city. So it is her who basically brings the Jesus figure into the world like a Virgin Mary expy. The two fall in love later.

This would be our Focalors, the real god of Fontaine who plans for Neuvillette to help the nation from the start.

The antagonists of the movie are the major of the city (who fulfills the role of the kings in the Bible) and a mad scientist (who fulfills the role of the devil), both conspire to create a robot version of Maria in order to suppress the workers uprising. Robot Maria represents an idol of false belief, in the Bible these are the pagan gods that people follow into their own ruin.

The mad scientist betrays the major and also sends robot Maria to the surface, where she spreads chaos in the form of the Whore of Babylon, an apocalyptic omen of the Bible.

This is our Furina, except Genshin subverts the character by making her the human part of Focalors instead. Furina’s official title (“Regina of all waters, kindreds, peoples and laws”) is a reference to the Whore of Babylon, and in the context of the AQ it’s meant to signify that Furina has caused the end of the archon rule in the nation.

In the movie robot Maria is burned at the stake by the workers in the middle of their violent frenzy, and they discover she is a machine while the real Maria is alive —Christianity wins. In Fontaine, Christianity kills herself (😭) and the apocalyptic idol of false belief stays alive. Perhaps the true values the people should follow are humane ones and not religious, who knows.

A flood also takes place during the climax of the movie, caused by the workers’ revolt, which the protagonist and the real Maria contain to save the children of the workers. Although not Christianity per se (the original book had a lot more of occultism than the movie) the role of the Grim Reaper, a rather symbolic character, seems to be paralleled by Arlecchino. It’s a character that represents the influence of robot Maria on the city as she spreads chaos, they work in unison while being two characters independent from each other.

#Fontaine #Metropolis #Genshin lore #long post

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chvoswxtch · 11 months

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champagne

pairing: elektra natchios x fem!reader

summary: elektra just wants to show you how grateful she is that you're her date to a luxurious gala.

warnings: explicit sexual content (minors dni)

a/n: this is purely selfish. i hope y'all love women, bc i do. happy pride. :)

word count: 913

The opulent gala below was in full swing. New York’s most wealthy were adorned in their most luxurious and elegant attire, draped in various gleaming and ornate jewels, trading scandalous rumors and gossip with every trade of an empty glass. The champagne was flowing as freely as the buzzing of conversation, and the live band had even the most pretentious of attendees flocking to the dance floor.

It was some upscale charity event for the annual something or other, but you couldn’t focus on anything other than your girlfriend’s head under your dress.

Elektra hadn’t even bothered to hide the two of you well. She had lured you up the stairs with the guise of an exquisite view from the balcony, but the second your heel collided with the tile of the top of the steps, she had pushed you against the nearest wall, sank to her knees before you, lifted your leg over her shoulder and pulled your panties to the side before you could even utter her name in protest.

You should be filled to the brim with concern. Anyone ascending those stairs would get more than they bargained for as soon as they turned left. You would inevitably get kicked out of the party. You could get arrested, for public indecency or something. Or you could-oh.

A swipe of warm velour through your slick folds pulled you out of rapid fire what ifs, and you looked down to find Elektra staring up at you with her mesmerizing eyes, feeling electrified by them like two shots of espresso. She seemed to be able to sense that your mind was elsewhere besides on her, and pulled her lips into a wicked smirk as she made a show of slowly dragging her tongue up your pussy, letting the tip of her tongue flick against your clit as she reached her ascent.

Her ruby painted nails dug deep crescents into the soft flesh of your thigh, anchoring your attention where she wanted it as her lips focused on your swollen and sensitive nub, smearing cherry paint across your pubic bone and her own mouth. Your hand flew to her head, fingers lacing through her raven hair and gripping tightly to have something to hold onto as she continued her delectable assault on your cunt.

The exhilaration of it all was an aphrodisiac in itself. Knowing that any one of those stuck up assholes downstairs could catch your girlfriend eating your pussy like her life depended on it at any moment sent a thrill through you that caused a fresh drizzle of arousal to flow against Elektra’s tongue. You had been biting down on your bottom lip so hard to stay quiet that you could feel the skin on your lip beginning to tear. The look in Elektra’s eyes was wild as she watched you whimper and slowly lose composure above her. Her tongue swept back and forth over your throbbing clit like a tempestuous pendulum signaling the strike of midnight.

You knew what she wanted.

She wanted you to let all your apprehensions about getting caught go. To be as bold and daring as she was. To throw caution to the wind with her.

To give into her completely.

So you did. You always did.

Elektra may have always gotten what she wanted, but consequently, that meant you did too.

Letting your head fall back against the wall with a soft laugh, you gripped onto her ebony tresses and tugged her face closer against your pussy, reveling in the moan of approval that vibrated against your core from her lips. Allowing breathless pants and lush moans to slip past your parted lips, you stared down into Elektra’s eyes, greedily riding her tongue while she fucked you with her fingers.

Even on her knees she looked like a goddess.

Elektra eagerly nodded and hummed when your symphony of moans rose in pitch, alternating between sucking and slurping on your swollen bundle of nerves, tenaciously seeking out every drop of the beloved tangy nectar that threatened to overflow at any moment.

Your body convulsed with shockwaves of rippling pleasure as you finally exploded into a million little pieces of gratification. You gripped onto Elektra’s shoulder to keep yourself upright, rolling your hips still in a hazardous tide to ride out every single wave of euphoria until you reached the shore.

Pressing one final kiss to your pulsating clit, Elektra rose to her full height and wrapped her slender fingers around your throat, capturing your lips in a deep kiss that made your brain even fuzzier than it already was. All you could do was moan when her soft tongue caressed yours, allowing you a taste of yourself, her lips splitting into the proudest grin.

“You’re a menace.”

“Did you really expect me to keep my hands to myself all night when you’re wearing that dress, moonlight?”

Looking at her with a dazed smile, you giggled softly as you brought your hands up to her cheeks, attempting to wipe away the smudged crimson lipstick stains around her mouth.

“I thought you could at least make it an hour, Ellie.”

Elektra turned her head to playfully bite your thumb, flashing you a wink as she grinned devilishly.

“Well, you thought wrong, my love. I know you hate these superficial events, so I wanted to show you how grateful I was to have the most envious date at this party. Besides, you taste far better than the champagne, darling.”

#elektra natchios #elektra natchios x you #elektra natchios x y/n #elektra natchios x reader #elektra natchios x female reader #elektra natchios x fem!reader #elektra natchios x f!reader #elektra natchios smut #elektra natchios blurb #daredevil #daredevil blurb #daredevil smut

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