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oncomingnight · 9 months

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yandere! Scientist

Hello everyone, thank you so much for all of your support on my previous stories. I was extremely excited about writing this specific piece because it's sort of based on movie that's set to come out real soon. I hope you enjoy and feel free to send requests/speak to me in my ask box.

You met Seán while you were both freshmen in highschool. you noticed he was relatively quieter than everybody else in the classroom. He was the most knowledgeable student in that damned classroom, he was just stealthy about it. The two of you really got to know each other when you were selected as partners, selected based on the similarity of your scores, percentages and your ability to learn certain subjects.

Even after the project was finished and graded, the two of you still kept speaking to each other. The reason for that was because he was absolutely and undeniably in love with you. It took awhile for it to click into your head that he was attracted to you, but when you finally realized, you couldn't be more ecstatic.

He confessed to you at the beginning of your sophomore year. Whilst you were putting some of your belongings into your locker, he showed up behind you with blood red roses in his hand, along with a comically large basket of gifts. A tea-stained letter was nestled into the folds of one of the roses, inside of it was him expressing just how happy you've made him for the past year. How he wants your love reserved for him and him alone.

"Hello, Y/n, I'm sorry to have caught you off guard. You don't have to say anything until after I'm done talking but I have to tell you now because it'll do no good to either of us to just have this rot within me. You've been the subject of my love and utter adoration for...oh, dear...it's been so long I've now forgotten. But, I'll have you believe that I have never and will never forget how sublime you make me feel. Every time I think of you, I can't help but smile and think of our potential future together. Y/n, I wish so desperately to take care of you, touch you, kiss you, to hear my name on your lips for the rest of time, only if you'll let me. Now I'm ready, what do you think?"

You were absolutely stunned to hear such profound declarations of love fall from his lips, even more so when the declarations were about you.

You stood there with your bouquet of prickly roses, woven basket full of all you took joy in. You opened your dry mouth and said, "I can't believe you said all that about me. All of this is so beautiful, Seán. So, what do I think? I'm not sure what I think but I know I want to be your girlfriend."

After high school, he immediately got down on one knee to ask you if you'd be forever his woman. His wife. Of course, your answer was a tearful 'yes' as you blubbered about how much you loved him and about how so happy you were.

Highschool sweethearts!

You've always known about his appreciation for science and his interest to pursue a career in that topic. You can only imagine just how thrilled he was when he got a position in a government facility with the job he's always fought for. He picked you up and swirled you around, causing you to become temporarily dizzy as you giggled at his enthusiasm. Seán doused your hot and flustered cheeks with kisses as he smiled at your precious laugh.

He was so glad he'd managed to get a PhD and job in something that would make him enough money to take care of the both of you, but, mostly you. He was so appreciative to you for staying with him for all these years, always his perfect girl, always so supportive, always giving him beyond helpful ideas + advice. You were perfect.

Eventually, the world was struck with a variety of struggles, mainly caused by powerful political figures that simply did not agree with each other. Many people were caught in the crossfire, protests began being organized, riots ensuing right outside of government buildings. What followed all of these events? Well, the only reasonable answer. War.

Because of this, your husband was called into office and put into a group of other physics scientists. They claimed they needed a defense weapon in case of everyone being put into a harmful and treacherous situation. Seán was made the head man of the project.

This worried you to the fullest extent, maybe you were being dramatic but your husband's position in the project could make him a direct target. When you shared your thoughts with him he couldn't help but give you a small endearing smile.

"you've always been a worrisome woman, haven't you? Nothing will happen to you or to us. I'll make sure of it, I'm benefiting them by building this damned thing, they wouldn't dare let anything disrupt our life, m'kay?"

"Seán, I'm not worried about me. I'm worried about you. Yes, you're benefiting them which is exactly why you'd be in danger."

"I can take care of myself, mo mhuirnín dílis. You've witnessed it, no? Don't worry yourself any longer."

Now, you may be wondering what he's talkin' about. Well, don't worry I'll tell you.

Seán had taken you with him to visit the small fishing town he had grown up in. After eating a delicious meal with your in-laws, Seán was invited by some old friends to go out and drink at an old and creaky pub. They have been asking to meet you and this was a chance for him to show you off to everyone in town, so, he accepted.

The night remained still and calm, despite the occasional roar of laughter that would occur at the table. It was fun, you were so glad Seán took you out to see where he was gifted with life.

But then

As you headed towards the friendly barmaid to make an order of crisps for everyone seated at the table. As you waited to be handed your order, a ragged young man that looked incredibly haggard for his age due to all of the alcohol approached you. You were sure he was just going to request assistance in catching a cab as he looked far too intoxicated to do it on his own. But no. He just wanted some action.

He pushed himself onto you with his flirtatious words but after you rejected him, you had angered him to an extreme point. He gripped your arm hard enough to bruise and spoke into your face with a horrid stench on his tongue.

"Now why won't you just shut your little mouth and please a man, hm?" He grinned maliciously.

Suddenly, you saw a quick flash of a fist show in your vision, not expecting it to be Seán punching the man with all the force he had in his slim yet firm body. All it took was one hit for the man to be on the ground, passed out. Yet, Seán didn't stop there and he wouldn't have stopped if his friend hadn't yanked him off the man. He was slamming his knuckles onto the man's pale face until it was almost fully covered in a crimson red.

You'd never seen him act in such a rabid way but you weren't angry at him. He was just protecting you. In an extremely visceral and self incriminating way. He didn't care, he's done far worse in defense of you but those were things he'd done in secret.

You were already far aware of how protective he could get and how emotional he was when it came to you. Someone could say something harmful about you and he'd mutter under his breath in anger, digging his nails into the palm of his hands, and eventually kiss your forehead before leaving the house to go do what he knew needed to be done.

When the two of you were intimate he'd cry at times while expressing his incredibly deep affection for you. He loved seeing you like this, furrowed brows, flushed cheeks, your huffs and puffs when he teased you. "I'd kill for you, y-you know that, yeah? Oh, A mhuirnín, I'd do anything for you. Absolutely anything."

There comes a lot of stress with his job, at times he'd return from work and burrow his head into your tummy, wrapping his firm arms around your waist. No matter how many times he messages you during work, no matter how many times he re-reads the letter you left him in his lunch, no matter how many times he calls you, he'll always yearn for your touch.

You lift his face from your stomach and remove his glasses, ruffling his dark curls after doing so. Your thumb gently swipes over his cheek, before leaning in and giving him a deep kiss. He melts into your touch and gives you a love-drunk smile.

His perfect girl.

The both of you would go on the loveliest getaway trips when he was able to take a break from work. You'd go to a restaurant and he'd hold your chin as he gently fed you pieces from the pasta you'd ordered, giving you time to chew and swallow.

When in clothing stores, he'd wait outside of the changing room on a cushioned seat, waiting to see his wife's lovely face and figure. He would never let you look at the price tags as that would discourage you from buying what you'd like, he didn't want that.

Seán has a habit of overworking himself to sketch out the building plans for the project he was assigned, he needed it to be perfect. This could change the future and if there even was a possibility that there'd be a future. You'd walk into his office, seeing his hooked nose being beautifully lit by the candle on his desk. He took a sip of his Bushmills whiskey before turning to look at you with eyes full of admiration. "You have to eat something, surely you know that. Plus, I made it so you have to eat it or else I'll get upset."

He's obviously very well known in the science world, I mean, his creation will determine the outcome of society. He's bound to get some recognition. People have come to be obsessed with the relationship the two of you have and the story of your love. Every photograph people see of the two of you, Seán is turned towards you with the most love sick look of them all. In photographs where he's alone, he may as well be the most stoic man in the world.

People would post slideshows of the two of you together and caption it with something along the lines of:

'me and him'

Others in the comments would practically point and laugh at the person with responses of:

'you wish.' 'y'all aren't that important ' 'try again' 'interesting 🧐.' 'Can you be serious...?'

This man is the most serious man in the entire universe when he's at work and surrounded with his partners. But, when he's alone with you? He's nuzzling his cheek into your chest, kissing all over you, kissing your hand, hugging you from behind, THE WHOLE NINE YARDS.

Seán is the type of husband to pick up your coffee + bakery order to wake you up with, leaves you gifts and notes to find around the house, takes you to the most wonderful places anyone could ever go to.

He's so glad he made someone like you his wife.

Forever :).

#yandere oneshot #yandere oc x you #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere #obsessive yandere #obsessive love #yandere oc x y/n #oc x yn #oc x reader #oc x canon #oc x oc #oc x character #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere smut

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 3 months

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Since you can do MMD stuff now I have a request!

The Fontaine gals with an S/O who likes to eat ice cream with them atop somewhere high while watching the sunset! (Inspired by Kingdom Hearts)

(Genshin Impact) Navia, Furina, and Lynette eating ice cream with their S/O

I'd throw my sea salt ice cream at Xion's head.

Navia prefers baked treats over cold ones, but she'll have no complaints about sharing either with her S/O!

And when it comes to their choice of their scenery, Navia absolutely loves it.

Watching the sunset with her lover at her side gets her heart racing.

Though with that being said, she only goes along if that evening is not particularly windy.

The last thing she wants is her hat flying off into the wind at that height.

Mostly because she'll go after it, which S/O would have to grab Navia and make sure she won't fall.

And with how strong she is, she's taking S/O with her.

She also tries to make sure the ice cream doesn't drip down onto her dress, but other than that, sitting next to them is one of her new favorite past times!

===

Navia smiled as she took a bite into the frozen treat, turning to S/O and raising her sunglasses.

S/O blushed at her bright expression, staring more at her than the sunset itself.

(S/O) "Sure thing! I'm sure you can make it taste better too!"

(Navia) "Aw, I can't make it without you, silly! Now, what did you call this again?"

(S/O) "Sea Salt Ice Cream."

(Navia) "Sea Salt, got it! There should be no shortage of that around here, I'm surprised no one's made this sooner!"

(S/O) "A friend of mine taught me the recipe. He liked sitting up here with his friends and eating the same thing."

Navia's sunglasses dropped back down as she moved closer to S/O, taking another bite from her ice cream.

(Navia) "Well...I'm glad you wanted to share this sight with me too!"

Furina is a woman of class, only enjoying the most delectable of desserts adorned with fancy decorations.

And their taste must be nothing short of sublime!

So when it comes to ice cream, admittedly, she finds them lacking, but sweets are sweets!

And the ones S/O had chosen to share with her passed her expectations!...When it comes to the taste, anyway.

But when it came to their choice of location, Furina was more than happy to watch the sunset in silence with S/O.

It was honestly a nice change of pace than the opera houses they'd frequent. This secluded place on the wall overlooking a large part of Fontaine felt like a special place, reserved only for them.

===

Furina examined the treat before her under close scrutiny. Appearance-wise, it was just a block of blue. Boring!

But, S/O had made this specially for her. The taste passed her inspection but it was admittedly bland. She would have to properly inform them how to make amazing treats!

(S/O) "Do you like it?"

(Furina) "The taste is adequate. But would it have killed you to put some flair onto this ice cream?"

(S/O) "Well, my friend never really taught me to do anything special with it."

(Furina) "Your friend?"

(S/O) "Oh, did I not tell you? He's the one who taught me how to make it! We all shared the ones he made at this very spot. Heh, everytime he showed us, he'd ask if we "got it memorized" every single time!"

While Furina was listening, she became enraptured by S/O's face as they recalled their fond memory, smiling as the sun was shining on them.

They had noticed she was staring and tilted their head curiously.

(S/O) "Is something wrong?"

Furina smiled and tasted her ice cream, then leaning the treat towards S/O.

Admittedly, Lynette did not try too many dishes that were either too hot or cold. The only exception for that being tea, and even then she had to wait for it to cool off.

Due to inheriting the cat-like traits, a very sensitive tongue was one of the things she had to learn to live with.

So, ice cream was something she did not have often, although she admittedly did enjoy it, but not to the same degree as other dessert aficionados.

But she won't say no to a free meal, especially one provided by her S/O.

And seeing how happy S/O was to give her the homemade ice cream, she couldn't refuse that smile.

Doubly so when she got to watch the sun set next to them, though feeling the heat directly made her want to take a nap more than anything.

===

Lynette looked at the ice cream in her hands, noticing how basic the shape was.

Shrugging, her tongue poked out from her lips as she gave the ice cream a lick, immediately recoiling.

S/O chuckled at her cute reaction.

(S/O) "I mean, it is ice cream, Lynette. How did it taste?"

Lynette stared blankly at S/O before failing to contain a small smile from growing. She waited for a few moments before taking another lick, noting the taste.

(Lynette) "Salty, but sweet at the same time. Surprisingly not too strong in either direction."

(S/O) "Okay, good! My friend would never let me live it down if I messed up the recipe for my girlfriend."

Now it was Lynettte's turn to quietly chuckle as she looked at the setting sun, feeling the warmth on her skin.

(Lynette) "I don't think Lyney would either. Speaking of which, do you mind making more for him as well?"

(S/O) "Sure. Want me to teach you as well? It's pretty simple."

Lynette paused for a moment, her ears twitching.

(Lynette) "I don't have to use any appliances, do I?"

(S/O) "The stovetop and freezer, mostly."

(Lynette) "I...think I'll watch, so that way I don't break it."

S/O laughed, almost dropping their own ice cream.

(S/O) "Okay. You'll at least eat them when I make them, right?"

Lynette smiled at them before getting back to slowly finishing up the ice cream.

(Lynette) "I won't eat one every day, but I will when you make them."

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #navia x reader #furina x reader #lynette x reader #navia genshin impact #furina genshin impact #lynette genshin impact

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thewebcomicsreview · 7 months

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A lot of the best writing is just doing simple basic obvious shit and doing it consistently. This page from Clown Corps is a great example.

For those who don't read Clown Corps....read it, it's great. Anyway, Morgan is a Clown (which in this setting is a superhero), who just learned that the mime-themed supervillain Echo, who has the power to mimic clown magic but had her mouth sewn shut against her will, is her long-lost sister Maggie, and now we have a flashback to happier times when the sisters go to a carnival (i.e., a place where clowns are).

This actually started on the previous page, where Maggie is winning stuffed animals and giving them to kids. Superficially, this is just a cute stage-setting scene, but every panel here is ironic. First, Maggie is accused (jokingly, but still) of being a criminal. "Suddenly you can't miss" lets us know that she sucked earlier but then became incredibly skilled at hitting targets. Maggie attributes this to being a "fast learner", a reference to the powers she'll later develop. That she's giving the toys away shows that she's not doing her "hustle" for nefarious reasons, much like as an adult her ethics are murky. And then the "fun's over" when her sister the future superhero shows up.

Then, in the next page, Morgan is mad her sister disappeared, and Maggie is mad she was expected to stand around quietly. This sisterly fight is foreshadowing Maggie's fate.

In the next panel, Maggie does a 4th-wall-breaking joke about how "it's not that kind of flashback". The primary source of jokes like this in Clown Corps is series protagonist Mary McBell

This joke is incredible

And in present day, it's Morgan who's most supportive of McBell. This panel recontextualizes the Morgan/McBell relationship. Morgan likes McBell because McBell reminds her of her long-lost sister. This connection would also serve to shorthand Maggie's personality for us, if it wasn't already coming through clear.

Morgan complains that mom made her bring Maggie along, which kind of establishes the relationship between then, and then Maggie hits Morgan with this savage burn. The out-of-nowhere horoscope reference is great, it's a specific hit on Morgan, not something that would be obvious to a reader from from these two pages. It feels more real than if she'd referenced something that we'd already learned about Morgan. Also "My nail polish doesn't match my horoscope" is just a funny line.

Oh yeah, and also this is the future Echo mimicking a future Clown. Don't forget that part.

And then the final panel is Maggie fully aware of what an annoying little shit she's being, but her expression is that of a girl who expects that Morgan is going to buy her that corn dog, glare be damned.

And, like, none of these panels are super mind-blowing genius moves that you'd need to be a twelfth-level intellect to come up with. Individually it's all really basic. It's impressive that all this referencing stuff feels like a natural conversation, but you - the girl reading this - could do that. What makes Clown Corps great is that it does this nearly every panel. Nothing is wasted, nothing here is doing just one thing. It's a sublime example of asking "Can I get more out of this" every single panel, because the answer is usually "Yes".

#Clown Corps

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ymiwritesstuff · 3 months

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The Urge in Me

HI! Here's a Dark Urge inspired Halsin fic!! I've been playing my Durge playthrough and I really wanna romance Halsin, I just think it would create some nice duality and it also inspired me to write this! Fair warning though, this is NOT for the faint of heart, this one deals with some heavy stuff. General Dark Urge stuff yes, but be sure to look at the warnings thoroughly. Please enjoy!

Baldur's Gate 3

Halsin x Dark Urge!Tav!Reader

Summary: The torturing darkness in you was only growing stronger, and on a certain night you can barely contain it, leaving you fearing for your beloved's life.

Notes: NSFW CONTENT (gore and violence), Angst, DARK THEMES, GORE, EXTREMELY graphic mentions of violence, mentions of death, Blood, Dark Urge stuff, Fantasizing about murder, Hurt & comfort, happy ending, Fluff

There was dread in the air, carried by the foul stench of death. Bright red, fresh blood pooled on the ground, a river of crimson flowing into the endless depths below, gushing out of bodies that were twisted into the most unnatural and grotesque of positions. Their gruesome appearance showed no regard for the sanctity of life, the sight of it a despicable and unsettling reminder of the reality of the world.

The butchery was vile, done in a hunger. A hunger to kill and bring carnage. It was as if a monster had unleashed unimaginable horrors upon these poor victims, many of them still housing an expression of pure horror frozen upon their faces. Even in death, they feared.

How delicious.

You marveled at the sight of the bloodshed, your body trembling in what you could only describe as ecstasy. How it brought you so much euphoria to see the fruits of your murderous efforts, a feast for your eyes. Your hand ached, a testament to the way it brought these people to their dooms oh so effortlessly. The sharp blade of the dagger you gripped dripped with blood, so deliciously wet with the juices of life.

The sweet smell of slaughter floated in the air, filling your head with a more ravenous desire to bring about another massacre like this one, with even more souls for your taking, with even more blood and guts. How superb it would feel to slice and slash flesh, to hear the screams and pleas of your pathetic victims, only for you to sink your dagger into them again.

And again, and again, again again again! Only for your hunger to remain famished, the never-ending thirst for glorious murder growing with every stab and cut. You would desire more.

More bloodbath… Slaughter of the highest order. Your body tingled at the thought, a vicious cackle ripping from the depths of your throat, ringing in your ears as the lust of slaying grew within you. How wonderful, how sublime. Where would you start?

Perhaps with a family… To hear the screams of the children as their parents met their end by your hand, to feel the rush of frenzy flow through you as your sharp blade works tirelessly, to see the desperation in their eyes as you gouge them-

“My heart?”

You sat up suddenly, breath heaving and sweat dripping down your forehead. For a moment, you did not see anything, or feel anything, however soon, as the warm light of a familiar campfire reached your eyes, as well as a silhouette of a large elf towering over you, you finally came to your senses.

“H-Halsin? What’s going on?”

He looked at you, concern plastered across his features. He remained quiet, his expression somehow managing to tell you that he did not dare to tell you why you were woken up by him. The previous visions were a blur, but the way he eyed you planted a seed of fear in you. What had you done?

Fearing the worst, you frantically looked around, trying to see if everyone was still sleeping, hopefully among the living. “Did… Did I do something? Please don’t tell me I kill-”

“No, my love.” He placed a hand on your shoulder, leaning closer. Looking at him fearfully, you noticed a distant calmness in his eyes. “You’ve done nothing. I simply woke you up as you seemed… distressed.” His voice trailed off at the end, his eyes briefly finding the ground below him.

You noticed a hesitation within him. He was trying to comfort you, but you sensed something plaguing him. Something sinister.

“What did I do?” You were afraid to ask but had to know. The urge had tormented you for some time and only seemed to grow in strength, but you could not afford to pretend to be ignorant, lest you someday did something irreversible and horrid.

Halsin paused, seemingly fighting a battle within himself. “You… weren’t yourself, so to speak.”

He was being vague, most likely for your own good, but it only made you want to know more. You took his hands and looked at him, trying to persuade him to tell you everything that happened.

“Please, Halsin. I want to know. I can’t begin to control my urge if I don’t understand it…” You pleaded with him, fearful of what horrors he might describe but determined to understand this… Sickness of yours. That’s what it was to you.

Halsin sighed deeply, pondering over your words before giving in. It pained him to see you like this and though he would have rather not told you any more than he already had, he understood your struggle, and above all wished to help you in any way he could.

“You tossed and turned at first, seemingly disturbed by something. Soon you began saying words that I did not understand. They were unclear, confused, but loud.”

You swallowed nervously, noticing how his face slightly twisted into a frown at the memory.

“Then you started twisting like your limbs were being snapped and you thrashed around uncontrollably. At this point, I knew I had to wake you up, but then...”

He squeezed your hands and took a breath. You would not be ready for what he said next.

“You laughed. You laughed like a…” He quieted down again, but you had a feeling you knew what he was about to say.

“Monster.��

Halsin did not want to hear you say it. Neither did you, but it was useless trying to deny it. The twisted urge had partially taken control as you slept, fortunately only managing to contain itself within your mind. Still, it brought you a sense of qualm.

The desire for bloodshed had infiltrated your mind before, briefly, but it had always left something behind, a fraction of its dark desires. Even when you looked at Halsin, your beloved, with whom you wished to spend every moment of every day, you were not spared from the invasive thoughts of slaughter.

You wondered how many stabs it would take to pierce that large body of his. How much you would have to twist your knife while it was buried deep within his torso until he screamed in agony. Your eyes wandered to his neck, vision blurred as the sound of your rapid heartbeat filled your ears.

He called to you, but you could not hear it, for all you thought about how lovely it would have been to see that thick neck of his gushing with blood from a deep wound. You grinned. What fun that would be.

Before your sickened mind went any further, you managed to pull yourself from the sea of blood raging within you. Gasping, you looked at him again, no longer fantasizing about his murder. You felt disgusted like you had cruelly betrayed him. You hung your head low fighting back tears that threatened to fall.

“I… I don’t know what to do… I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

You felt his strong arms wrap around you, and one of his hands pet your head gently. He held you tight, almost afraid that you would slip away. The severity of the situation was obvious to both of you, but Halsin, being the kindhearted druid he was, put that aside to help you deal with it.

“Do not worry, my heart. I am here.”

His words hit you like a boulder, finally urging those tears to come out. You quietly sobbed against him, wondering just how you had managed to meet someone like him. Despite the dread, the death, the urge, all of it, he was there for you and made sure not to leave your side.

However, the underlying fear grew the more you thought about it. If you could not control the urge any longer and embarked on a murderous killing spree, who would stop you? What would happen to everyone and most importantly, what would happen to him? It was all covered in a veil of dark mystery, but one thing was more than certain.

You would rather run a knife through your own throat than allow yourself to harm him or anyone else.

“We will find a solution to this yet, my love…” He spoke, voice soothing, almost a whisper. His large hand ran through your hair and his words brought you some hope. You found yourself believing him, if only slightly.

“I would hope so but… Halsin..” You lifted yourself from him, teary eyes looking up at him with another pleading expression. His hand was on your cheek, thumb wiping away the stray tears. “Yes, my heart?”

You took a breath, what you were about to ask was not a light matter, and you debated whether or not you should even begin to ask this of him. It weighed on your heart, but you could not go on any longer wondering when you’ll finally lose control and hurt someone.

“Love… I… I’m fearful… It’s clear that whatever it is in me, can consume me and make me do… regrettable things.” You held onto his shoulders, your voice losing its power as you went on.

“To kill someone… To kill you- It… It’s like a nightmare that I fear will yet become true… So please…”

Squeezing him, your eyes met his, and in the pit of his stomach, you were sure he already knew what you were about to ask of him.

“If I one day lose control, lose myself to this… Dark urge… Promise me-” The words got stuck in your throat. How could you ask this? From him? It felt wrong, all of it felt wrong and suddenly you weren’t sure what to do. The words hung in the air that had become thick and judging by how Halsin looked at you, he knew all too well what you wished to say.

“My heart, listen to me.” Both of his hands were now on your face, hazel eyes frowned in sadness but sparkling with hope. “I can only imagine the torment you are going through, and I do not blame you for considering a more bleak solution.” His voice was gentle, like a spring breeze and the warmth of his hands spread throughout your entire being.

“But that is not how this will end. I promise you, I will not let anything happen to you, or anyone else. Trust me, my heart. You will prevail, we will prevail, together.”

You were stunned. With wide eyes you look at him, his saddened kind smile radiating your dark insides like the sun. You clung to him unsure what to say.

“Halsin…”

Leaning against him, you craved an embrace and he was happy to oblige. You felt safer than ever before, his words affecting you in ways you did not think possible. Suddenly, it did not feel so hopeless anymore. You thought the only possible solution would have been for him to kill you if you ever reached a point of no return but now… Perhaps there was hope. Perhaps you would find the cause of all this.

“I’ll be by your side, love. No matter what.”

Halsin pressed his lips to the top of your head, and you melted in his arms, the fatigue of the night returning to you. The urge was quiet blessing you with its pity as you enjoyed your beloved’s warmth. To be with him was a miracle.

He was a miracle.

Feel free to support me on ko-fi! ❤️

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 halsin #baldur's gate 3 x reader #bg3 halsin #bg3 halsin x reader #halsin #halsin x reader #halsin imagines #baldur's gate 3 imagines #angst #dark urge #halsin x tav #halsin x dark urge #not sfw #reader insert #fluff

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besaya-glantaya · 6 months

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Thoughts on Alex being wrong and loving it

Red White and Royal Blue (2023 movie)

Remember the little quip Henry makes about admiring Alex's willingness to admit when he's wrong? It's such a great moment of foreshadowing, especially since Henry has no idea just how right he is.

Alex prizes himself on being someone who is skilled at reading people, at seeing the person beneath the surface, but he's never come across anyone quite like Henry before.

Alex must be used to people hiding who they truly are - he's been steeped in American politics for years - but he probably isn't expecting anyone from such a legacy of historic power and entitlement to be, at their core, an actual cinnamon roll.

Their initial meeting also comes at a time in Henry's life when any chink in his armour reveals only pain and anger, leading Alex to assume that what lies behind the carefully controlled façade isn't pleasant.

This assumption is only reinforced by further antagonistic interactions, fuelled by Henry's attempts to balance civility while protecting his heart as Alex consistently pulls Henry's metaphorical pigtails.

The fallout from cakegate forces them into extended periods of proximity and we see Alex start to glimpse pieces of the real Henry beneath his bland public persona. Each further piece that's revealed surprises and delights Alex and it's a joy to watch Taylor Zakhar Perez bring those moments to life.

Allow me to ramble about some of these:

1. Alex's pause of panic followed by surprised relief as Henry suavely responds to the interview question, "How did you end up on the floor of Buckingham Palace, covered in cake?" Alex's relief is two fold: he was floundering with no idea what to say (shouldn't have rebuffed Henry's request to prepare for this interview, Alex...) and Henry's answer is not at all what Alex was expecting. Henry could easily have attributed the event to clumsiness or tomfoolery on Alex's part - even just by subtle implication. That wouldn't have been out of line with some of Alex's answers (e.g., "Three words to describe Henry? Um... White, blond and British.") but Henry chooses a more protective route, deflecting attention from Alex, which comes as a pleasant surprise. [Of course he can't show this, so instead retaliates with something as annoying as possible. Cue side eye from Henry.]

2. Alex's big-eyed expression of sympathy as Henry tells him the Palace insisted on parading him around while he was grieving for his father. It's the key moment Alex realises he's built a lot of assumptions on a misunderstanding and has probably treated Henry rather unfairly.

3. Alex frowning at Henry talking and laughing with the little girl in the hospital bed. He's seeing Henry through a new lens and realises this picture doesn’t fit with a lot of his previous assumptions.

4. Alex shaking his head at Henry's joking attempt to decline an invite to his NYE party that most people would kill to get. "That's perfect, you kill me and then I won't have to go." It's the first time Henry uses his sharp wit to share a joke with Alex, rather than directing it at him in a fit of pique. It's an olive branch and I don't think Alex was expecting such easy forgiveness.

5. The sublime series of text based interactions where Alex is surprised and charmed by Henry flirting (under the guise of gentle ridicule).

6. The iconic "I can't believe how wrong I was about you," while he and Henry are as close as two people can get.

7. My all time favourite: Alex's reaction to Henry pointing out the yellow roses on his tie. Henry employs this in a sweet distraction during a moment of all encompassing anxiety for Alex. It's enough to bring Alex out of his fog, to realise how much strength he draws just from Henry being there to support him. The way Taylor says "Oh my god. I'm so grateful you are here," is perfection.

I'm a gooey mess thinking about all the future moments where Alex is surprised and overwhelmed by Henry's kindess.

[Sobs]

On a related note @mulderscully has a great post titled: Alex's headshake of Love™, which captures several of these moments, and more, in perfect gif form.

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #nicholas galitzine #prince henry rwrb #alex claremont diaz #rwrb film #rwrb thoughts #first prince #henry fox #red white and royal blue movie #taylor zakhar perez

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greenandsorrow · 3 months

Text

"Boytoy"

WARNINGS; sexual references, ken x fem!reader, reader uses she/her pronouns, ken finding out about periods, fluff & happy ending, plot doesn't connect with the movie, probably grammar mistakes

Bonus Part

After their rather intense night they just got comfy under the covers, this time with Ken being the big spoon. Y/n was laying her head on his chest, just where his plastic heart is, his heartbeat lulling her into a deep sleep. Our lucky Ken had his arms wrapped around y/n's frame, while nuzzling the top of her head, inhaling the flowery scent of her shampoo, feeling his eyelids getting heavier.

Since that day they've been inseparable. Ken figured out how to control his waking up in the real world or in Barbieland. He was also informed that there's a portal to y/n's world at his favourite beach. Y/n's house has become his own and she was happy and patient to get him used to human activities such as going out for a snack, walking her home after her classes and so on.

Life is good, it's sublime. Y/n is looking forward to Ken's surprise for her birthday...she was able to figure out what it was but she'd never reveal that to her giddy man. Ken is planning to take her to Barbieland for a day and that means she can meet her childhood friends, the Barbies.

Currently, Ken is waiting for y/n at her apartment because she had exams to take. He is so proud of her for the silliest of accomplishments so y/n can hardly imagine the excitement he feels for her determination and wit at studying. Unfortunately, she wasn't in the mood for celebrating, or making out, or having a tickling session, or watching horse documentaries. Ken was devastated.

Y/n went straight to her bedroom to change into the fluffiest pyjamas possible before curling up next to Ken and letting out a deep sigh.

"Why did it have to happen today out of all days?!"

Ken is puzzled by her statement. His expression is rather adorable as he tries to understand what is going on in her head. He finally speaks in a sheepish but also curious manner.

"What did happen today that shouldn't have y/n?"

She huffs and buries her face in his arm. She is already tired from all the studying, frustrated with her headaches and exasperated from the too familiar cramps.

"It's nothing Ken...", she murmurs.

Under any other circumstances she would've been delighted to share this part of her human experience with Ken...however the thought of having to break down what periods are to her blonde partner has y/n riled up now.

Ken is of course too dramatic at his reaction to her dismissive answer. He takes an expression of pure heartbreak.

"Are you bored of me?! Oh no y/n!"

Y/n can't help but chuckle a bit and her mood lightens up. He can't be so pure, it's infuriatingly cute.

"It's my period Ken, it's not your fault I act like so grim..."

Ken's confusion is comically obvious and she decides to explain what needs to be explained.

By the end of her primary school teaching moment, Ken is looking at her with a new kind of awe. If women weren't fabulous enough before in his blue eyes, they definitely are now.

And so another monthly ritual is added to Ken's list of being y/n's hype man. He makes a huge, too bright and silly looking calendar and writes down his human's days of the month. She always has a bag of chocolates and plush toys waiting for her, maybe a flower or a cowboy accessory. Y/n has a whole collection at this point. The best part, though, is what comes after the marked days on the calendar end....

Let's just say Ken's libido is that of a teenager's and how could she complain when she's ovulating?

notes~~

Well, that's it... the little happy ending I had promised. Boytoy was the first thing I ever posted on here and the first thing I wrote in general for the public eye🥺 Looking back, I know I could have done it better, but I don't want to be ungrateful because Boytoy made my blog gain an audience. I want to expand my writing on other fandoms so stay tuned! Thanks for all the support <33

Tags; @heyimizzy @notleclerc @moonmaiden1996 @vilovedr @goldenvespa @hope4rain19

banners from; @cafekitsune

my masterlist

TIPS; CLICK HERE(PayPal link)

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glitchtricks94 · 10 months

Text

Demon Slayer Drabbles!: Upper Moons 5 and 6 with a Darling That Draws Them!

I KNOW I HAVE A SMUT IN THE WORKS BUT Y'ALL ARE GONNA BE ON HOLD. I got this idea while talking with @vampcubus, lovely person btw, love them lots, so here we are. Also Gyutaro brainrot is real. We got two men, just finished writing them, gonna post and pass out, please enjoy the fluff. Read beneath the cut, because it's late and my usual style is escaping me at the moment. Anyways, with that out of the way, kick back, relax and enjoy~ -Glitchtricks

Gyutaro

He doesn't understand why you were stealing so many glances at him while scribbling in that blank book he stole for you to use, the scratching of the pencil lead against the paper filling the room, drawing Gyutaro from his meditation to focus on your tinier frame. Amber eyes lock with yours and Gyutaro raises a brow seeing you blush brightly and shyly look back at what you're working on, the scraping sounds intensifying in the silence of the demon's den. He got to his feet, dragging himself to your side. You were awfully weird for a human, a lot unlike the traditional artists of the land, you worked more with lead and that book rather than paint. It was odd, but Gyutaro figured he wasn't in any position to judge, you did decide to be his after all. "Oi, what're you doin', human, eh?" The demon croaked out, trying to look over your shoulder to see just what you were scribbling, his carved eyes catching sight of what looked to be a tuft of hair before you yanked the book to your chest. "Hey, let me see that!" The demon growled. "I-It's embarrassing!" You whined, Gyutaro rolling his eyes at you. "Aren't we partners or lovers or somethin'? The fuck you hidin' that's so bad? Can't be worse than me." "Don't talk about yourself like that." "Just gimme the damn book." Gyutaro growled, snatching you sketchbook from you as you let out a yelp. The upper moon didn't care much for your protests as he started flicking through the pages, flowers, people, and buildings of all sorts filling the pages, until he noticed a pattern emerging, little sketches of himself beginning to appear in the buildings; imagery of his hunts with Daki, him grinning maniacally while clutching his flesh laden kama in his hands, and then full pages of just him making various expressions, the most frequent being of him smiling, little hearts doodled next to the carefully made portraits of him. Gyutaro was quick to fall silent, his heart clenching in his chest as he shoved the book back into your hands, not wanting to believe what he just saw. You meekly looked up at him, face dusted red. "Uhm...I-" "Why am I in there?" "Wha-" "You heard me." Gyutaro growled, baring his teeth threateningly. "Why the fuck am I in there?!" "Because I like to draw you..." You murmured, feeling disappointment bubble in your chest. "You look so incredible, and unique, a-and since we love each other I thought you would mind?" "I-I don't- I just- I can't- Ugh, fuckin' damn it..." Gyutaro let out a sigh, his shoulders sagging more than normal. "Do...do you want me to pose or some shit...?" You perked up, looking at your beloved with those sparkling eyes that never failed to make his heart pound. "Would you mind...?" You asked hopefully, you demonic darling shaking his head no and getting to his feet. "Just tell me what to do, 'kay?" Fuck, you loved this man.

Gyokko

Gyokko adored that you were like him, an artist, a visionary, and all while being a sublime beauty in and of yourself; a muse of unprecedented measures! And oh, how cutely you scrawl away in that little sketchbook he had gifted you, Gyokko practically buzzed in delight. You were perched in the center of his coiled, serpentine tail, his smooth fish like scales scraping your skin comfortingly as you worked away at another portrait of your eccentric lover. Gyokko adored watching you sketch, especially depictions of him, the demon letting out excited chitters seeing your beautiful pencilwork. He'd model for you, pose, be the muse you adored so much. He'd also offer surprisingly excellent critiques for you to use and incorporate into your work. He expected the same from you, of course! He was an artist as well, and since you were one like him, he held you opinions far higher than anyone else's. That took a little getting used to for you, as his...art was often rather grotesque and stomach churning, the screams of his victims nor the fact that they seemed stitched together helped the matter. You powered through though, making Gyokko the happiest demon alive with your praises and suggestions, always making use of them for inspiration. "Oh, my muse, you captured me so well in this!" Gyokko cooed to you, a blush creeping up to your cheeks seeing how pleased your beloved was. "Ah, I'm glad you think so, I've been trying to practice with more lighting techniques." You replied softly, the lead of your pencil scraping soothingly against the rough paper, Gyokko's hand soon enveloping your own to guide you. "Care to let me help, my sweet muse?" He asked softly, grinning wide when you nodded. Gyokko was always eager to indulge in his craft, and always hungry to indulge in yours. Fuckin' hell I can't quite characterize I need to watch Swordsmith Village.

#demon slayer x reader #demon slayer gyutaro #demon slayer gyokko #gyutaro x reader #gyokko x reader #upper moons #glitchwrites.notepad #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer fluff

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lipstickchainsaw · 3 months

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Do you have any thoughts on the Burning Grey or Damsel routes? Because I found them both fascinating with the themes of agency and denial of agency, plus with how your shaping of the princess is most clear in the Damsel’s chapter.

I do think it’s very cool that Burning Grey somehow manages to be less creepy than normal old Damsel. Because yes, she’s trying to kill you, but also she appears to have thoughts and feelings and that is significantly less creepy than the hollow shell that is the Damsel.

I think the Burned Grey is fascinating for very much the reasons you describe, but let's talk Damsel first.

Because the Damsel is incredibly unsettling and it's a route that leaves a bad taste in my mouth (in a way the game intended, I mean).

I think a lot of the routes in Slay the Princess explore the theme of agency, especially how unequal power dynamics shape people involved in those exchanges, what resistance looks like in the face of someone having power over you, and whether any real respect or relationship can follow from it.

And the Damsel says 'no, it can't'.

Oh sure, it seems like she says 'yes, it can!' with all the enthusiasm of a chivalric romance, but it can only exist insofar as the Damsel stops existing as a person, only to the extent that she can sublimate her agency, her personality, her wishes, dreams and desires by fully giving into what the person who's there to kill her wants.

(You kill her with one stab, but she has so little power that in Chapter 1 she has to stab you countless times to finally end you.)

The Smitten doesn't care about this and is happy to fully dominate her personality away (which is why he's awful), until she becomes but a prop in the story he wants to tell, an endlessly adoring maiden who hangs off his every word but will, crucially, never express any desire or opinion of her own.

Basically, she doesn't exist.

(And when you try to discover what she does want, what person does exist underneath the adoring accommodation, her physical body becomes as well-defined as her mental existence.)

And you get there by trying, at every turn, to save her, by not considering her enough of a threat to take the knife, and not even bothering to let her try to free herself.

You have denied her any agency in Chapter 1, and thus you get the Damsel.

Crucially, she doesn't even resist when you kill her.

Instead, you then get the Burned Grey, and here's where things get interesting.

You see, the Damsel thought you loved her, and so she became the prop to your story, but you killed her, so clearly this isn't actually what you want.

But that doesn't make sense, because you loved her enough to try to save her the first time!

These contradictions finally spark a degree of agency once again, and the Burned Grey concludes that something is off. She loves you, and she knows you love her, but you keep killing each other.

So it has to be the location itself! It has to be the cabin itself, the entire thing set-up that is setting you at each other's throats even though you don't want to, and the only way to escape this cycle of violence and abuse is to destroy it!

And she's right! The cabin represents the Construct within itself, and the Creator specifically set it up for the Long Quiet to kill the Shifting Mound, and destroying it together is the only way for this to stop!

I think the only other Princess that comes this close to understanding what's actually happening might be the Wild (and possibly the Moment of Clarity, but I am not playing through the Nightmare again to figure that out, thank you).

And so, in a statement of love, empathy, finally finding one's agency, the Burned Grey tries to end this cycle.

By burning you to death.

#slay the princess #slay the princess spoilers #stp the damsel #stp the burned grey

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chubs-deuce · 18 days

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Hi!! Love your artwork and your Charlastor AU with Dawn!!

I was wondering if you think Alastor would make any dawn-themed dad jokes and puns in your AU, and if he does, what would Dawn and Charlie think of them? I can’t really think of any off the top of my head right now, but I know ‘a brand new dawn’ is a phrase he could maybe use!

Again, love your art!!! If you don’t mind answering questions about it, do you have any advice for artists who want to improve their drawing or any practices that have helped you develop your skills? And are there any particular artists that really inspire you?

You’re one of my favorite artists and I don’t know how to explain it but your drawings have so much life in them!! 🌟

sdlksdflkj thank you so much omg!!!

I'm so glad you're enjoying them ;W;

And he would be insufferable with them lmfaoo, especially because I'm sure Charlie would hop in on a few of them and add to the pile as well xD

One more I can think of rn is "Oh, I was wondering where the sun went!" whenever Dawn enters a room, because the implied punchline is "but then it Dawned on me" or something? XD idk I'm not good with puns sadly

Now regarding the art advice!! This one got HELLA long so I'll hide it under a cut for everyone's comfort lmao

I know it sounds shallow and like worthless advice, but a huge huuuuge part of getting better at art is to just... make art! Practice makes perfect - it develops your motor skills, gives you somewhat of a muscle memory for certain basic shapes that are a necessity to have a good feel of for good foundation sketching.

Practice also develops your eye for compositing and for how color theory actually applies in practice, it basically helps you develop a more consistent grasp on art as a whole :D

There are some things I've learned over time that definitely helped speed things up though xD

here's some rough sketches I did just to demonstrate what my rougher drawings can look like - also a little diagram (on the right side of the image) of things I keep in mind for the average proportions of a human body!

I tend to sketch very loosely and try to capture the overall vibe and silhouette/rough shapes first before I even think about adding details - there's a certain flow, squish and stretch to everything that's just much easier for me to get a good feel for when I use quick, loose brush strokes and as few lines as possible to convey a concept.

Repeatedly sketching humanoid characters of various shapes, builds and sizes for years genuinely helped enormously in getting not only faster but also more consistent with it!

I'm fairly well practiced with hands and expressions especially at this point since I like to focus on those in my art often, so those come fairly easily to me as well now!

Something I learned along the way about keeping a certain liveliness to my artworks is that sometimes you have to forego anatomical correctness a bit if you want to fully express specific emotions - if you try too hard to keep everything perfectly proportional and realistic, it can make the outcome look stiffer than you might've aimed for - this is something I actually struggle with in my cleaner artworks :'D The ones I do proper lineart for, since a lot of the flow of the original sketch gets lost in the process haha

As for artists/artstyles that inspire me...

There's @/southpauz for example!

Her artstyle is unbelievably expressive and her eye for compositing and her use of shapes is SUBLIME - it inspired me to let loose more with my expressions, exaggerate features a bit more and to push the way I try to vary facial features :D

Then, back when I had that massive Rise of the TMNT phase, the artstyle of it has actually greatly influenced how I draw today!

It manages to be detailed and highly recognizable despite its deceivingly simple style - it exaggerates shapes and uses it to communicate personalities, emotions and action super effectively and taught me a lot about utilizing those more efficiently myself :D

And last but not least Ishida Sui - the mangaka behind Tokyo Ghoul (which used to be a highschool obsession of mine)

His striking use of colors, textures in abstract, yet symbolically heavy ways and his courage to be rough and expressive rather than looking polished, yet also having such a solid understanding of realism blew me the fuck away as a teen and still does now!!!

His art may have less of an influence on my style today than it used to back then, but I think in my more exagerrated, more horror-esque drawings you can kind of see it still :'D Either way I greatly admire him as both a writer and artist.

-----

I'm genuinely so so flattered that you enjoy what I do enough to give me such high praise, thank you so much for writing me such a wonderful ask <3 I'm glad I got to gush about some of my favorite artists/artstyles for a bit haha

If you have any more specific (digital) art related questions don't hesitate to reach out!! I love giving pointers about a subject I'm so passionate about, we don't gatekeep helpful information in this house!!! <3<3<3

#chubs answers #charlastor fankid #chubs ocs #dawn morningstar #art inspiration #art tips

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th3-0bjectivist · 5 months

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youtube

Dear listener, I tried listening to six full hours of mainstream radio this week again. I tried, oh, sweet merciful Jesus, I tried. Lo, I have at this point all but confirmed that modern radio is a steaming pool of liquid dogshit. Given a second appraisal, it’s dogshit with a candy-coated hardshell for ease of ingestion! The disheartening repetition, the complete lack of cutting-edge creativity and genuine emotion, ten to twenty ass-ramming commercials in a row only to come back to the feckless frenzy of fail that comprises the vast, vast majority of modern music? It was all terribly grating, and somehow the music was even worse. As soon as I couldn’t take a millisecond more of the doldrums of modern radio, I went to YouTube and listened to two straight and comparatively blissful hours of immortal work by Antonio Vivaldi. So, get into the time machine again with me dear listener, and set course for the early 1700’s, a time when radio didn't exist! The social standards might not have been top-notch, but the powdered wigs were undeniably gorgeous, and the quality of the music… to die for!!!

As anyone who comes from a musical family has likely experienced, Vivaldi had the principles of composition fused to his DNA, and perhaps even down to the subatomic level with the help of his father. Having trained for priesthood in his early years, Vivaldi instead gradually gravitated toward a now celebrated career in music. Becoming an elite level violinist under the tutelage of his father Giovanni Battista, whom he regularly toured Venice and played duelling violins with, this legend of orchestra developed an immense capacity for transforming the basics of music into something so immensely interwoven and sublime that very few can or will ever dare so much as approach the legitimate majesty of his body of orchestral work. Known as something of an Italian religious dogmatist, his calling to the church and desire to be a priest secured him the nickname ‘Il Prete Rosso’ (The Red Priest) because he was a ginger, or in modern politically correct parlance… a natural red head. During a three-decade long gig serving as Master of Violin at an historical Vincentian orphanage, Ospedale della Pietà, Vivaldi managed to gather inspiration and organize his most emotionally powerful compositions. I could probably add a lot of unnecessary details here, but his greatest and most everlasting works are part of his ‘The Four Seasons’, a set of four violin concertos that are meant to express nearly the precise sensations and emotions of summer, winter, autumn, and spring. If you smash play on the above track you will be treated to Presto (from the Summer section), a song you probably know or have heard before. Presto means ‘quickly’ in Italian and is performed at one of the quickest speeds a human can possibly play music (second only to prestissimo speed, I think). Vivaldi also had a strange disease throughout all his life which many historians suspect might have been severe asthma. And with his penchant for taking numerous ‘leaves of absences’ to tour the world and develop an international reputation, this clearly mega-talented rockstar of yester-century ended up spending all the money he earned during his lifetime. Sadly, after approaching the end of his life and skidding through a decade’s worth of career decline, all accounts show that he died completely broke, having spent what little money he had left on multiple assistants that circumnavigated him through his now dire and at the time completely untreatable health issues. Vivaldi isn’t my personal favorite composer of all-time, I’ll leave that distinction to Bach (who himself was inspired by Vivaldi). But his works live on to this very day because he accomplished exactly what he strove to do; embody the excellence of execution in his craft to produce works that bring us together as human beings and sometimes inspire a rare spark of imagination to propel us to create the very best work we can possibly bring forth.

youtube

Right above this paragraph is a live variation of The Four Seasons, a classic musical work of art and transcendent beauty that I cannot recommend highly enough. Vivaldi sure did one thing that modern, corporately funded, concentrated and even desperate bands just can’t… and that is actually innovate. He had immense natural technical skills, had them brought to bloom by his family and his own efforts, and he ended up creating over 500 instrumental and choral works, plus about 40 operas. Have *you* created 500 instrumental and choral works and 40 operas!? Didn’t think so. So, get to work on that! And join me next time for some jaunty Brahms. Image source: https://www.craiyon.com/image/dPwZA5VRRTawSH1T9Sslcw

#vivaldi #antonio vivaldi #music on tumblr #classical music #the four seasons #presto #music from the 1700's #audio video #music video #audio on tumblr #classical composer #composer #baroque #legend #violinist #orchestra #Italian composer

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faggotmox · 6 months

Note

Claudio fucking someone up against the wall so hard they break the wall?

dude, wont lie to you i wrote this so stoned, so quick & excited abt my bf coming to visit. also thank you so much for giving me a reason to finally write some claudio fucking post that josh barnett match. that match was an awakening for me.

so like fair warning: humiliation kink, blood kink, wound kink, violence kink, size kink, ect ect bcc being the bcc, bcc being insane abt each other

pairing: jon moxley/claudio ccastagnoli, bcc poly, one-sided mox/josh barnett (as a treat lol)

rated: porn ofc

"Fuck!" Mox shouted as his back hit the wall hard, his legs barely losing their hold on the cut hips pinning him to the wall. "Harder!"

Claudio growled deep in his chest as he took a sturdier stance and gave even more powerful thrusts. They were both incredibly desperate. The match had left Mox's mouth watering, and Claudio feeling superhuman. Every muscle in his body was exhausted from the Warmaster but Claudio felt too good to even acknowledge it. The screaming strain of his muscles, the pain from the bruises and bumps made Claudio even more turned on as Mox begged for more of his cock.

One hand slammed against the wall while the other kept a strong grip on Mox's hip. He fucked the other man like they'd never get the chance again. It was sublime. Claudio felt everything in that moment wrapped in Mox’s tight heat.

"I said harder, bitch!" Mox moaned, his head thumping back harshly against the wall.

"Want me to throw you around?" Claudio slammed Mox against the wall again. He watched the smaller man's eyes roll back in his head. "You love it when I do this. Little slut likes to be manhandled."

"Fuck, I'm gonna come keep sayin' shit like that." Mox had the breath knocked out of him, the dizzy haze of pleasure blanketing everything feeling.

“You’re cute when you’re fucked out and dazed.” Claudio smirked at the cloudy eyes and happy expression looking back at him. Mox really was in his element and Claudio loved delivering a rough fuck. A different kind of dream match. “Look at me.”

“Claudo, please.” Mox looked up at the huge man holding him up. His body arching into the muscular chest. “Need-- ah!”

“You want this big bitch to fuck you until you cry? I've done it before." Claudio slammed Mox against the wall again before grabbing both hips and giving it all he had.

"Claudio!" Mox's rough voice broke on the scream, his legs hiking up higher to give a better angle. "Oh, god." Talking later was going to be difficult.

"I beat Josh Barnett." Claudio whispered into his ear, biting at his shoulder. "You've fought him, felt him on top of you. Felt what his strikes feel like, how his holds hurt. He's incredibly strong. He threw me like I weighed nothing, I bet he threw you so hard you jerked off to it."

"Claudio, fuck, please." Mox sobbed, his eyes closed again as he bucked against the hard, devastating thrusts.

"He put me through it all too, and I won." Claudio moaned as he felt Mox tense and tighten around his huge cock. The other man knew what was coming. "You couldn't take it, right? Josh was just...too big? Too strong? Too hot over you?" Claudio smirked at the broken noise Mox made.

"Please, please! Fuck me!" Mox begged, pulling himself closer to make Claudio slam him again.

So Claudio did. Hard. As hard as he could. Too hard. The plaster gave way under the assault. They fell through together, Claudio tried to move and protect Mox when he realized he couldn’t stop them from going through.They both cursed as they felt themselves go through plaster and wood and whatever else made the flimsy wall.

The dust settled. Mox moaned in unpleasant pain as he tried to push Claudio off him. They'd fallen, mostly, through into some storage closet. Luckily a large metal shelf caught most of their fall. A bucket dropped off the shelf and banged against Mox’s arm.

"Shit." Mox's hysterical laughter bubbled up. "Oh, shit. You fucked me through a wall, big guy."

"Are you okay?" Claudio had to push himself up and roll out of the rubble. "I did." He paused for just a moment before laughing too. "I fucked you through a door once in 2011."

"Oh, shit. How'd I forget about that?" Mox was carefully extracted from the fallen wall, carefully not to rack himself on anything. "That was good. So was this. Oh." He pulled his hand away from his back to find blood. "You stepped it up this time. We got color too."

"Ha!" Claudio turned Mox to check the damage. "That's pretty bad."

"So are yours." Mox pointed out.

"Mine?" Claudio pulled back and started checking himself over. Low and behold he was also covered in blood too. "Oh."

"You okay, big guy?" Mox checked the cut on both their elbows, almost comparing them before moving to look at the laceration on Claudio’s forehead.

"Didn't even feel it." Claudio grinned at the fascinated look directed at him. "I'm okay. I don't think I even hit my head. A piece of wood bounced back."

"Wow." Mox whistled. "There's uh...ond on your chest too." The blood had started getting caught in the fine chest hair. "Sure you're okay?"

"Yes, I am. Are you about to ask if we can finish, Jon?" Claudio grabbed Mox by the hips again and brought him close. Blood was streaked over the other man’s hip on the injured side.

"You bet your fine ass. Finish the job or it's a No Contest." Mox smirked at the fired up look on his partner’s face.

"Come here then." Claudio grabbed him; forcing Mox to jump up onto his hips again before sitting on the couch. "Ride the winner."

"Oh fuck yes. Can I--?" Mox's eyes were stuck on the chest wound. Blood ebbing out in small trickles.

The pooling blood was mesmerizing his partner so Claudio ran his hand through the red liquid then smeared it onto Mox's face. Most of it marked Mox’s cheek, some of it caught his beard and nose. Something flipped in Mox’s head as everything short circuited in his body at the treatment.

"Yes. Fuck yourself. Hard too." Claudio grunted. "And be quick. You have to get out there for Bryan's match. I have to make sure you don't get hard at the desk by fucking you good now."

"Oh, God, I'm gonna be fucked up after that match." Mox shifted around untl he found the right angle and lowered himself onto Claudio again. A heavy moan was drawn out of them as they were rejoined.

"Maybe we'll gangbang you later." Claudio smirked at the look of pure want on the other. "That's it, baby. Ride me good."

"Love you." Mox grinned as he leaned down to kiss Claudio, making sure to get the blood everywhere.

+++

After their ‘match’ Claudio quickly worked to clean up Mox just enough he could be on TV. The pout he gave when Claudio wiped off his face nearly made him miss Bryan’s match. Bandages were quickly applied to the few blood spots and Mox was redressed.

They had purposely just slapped something on Mox’s woods so he would be bloody under the shirt. No one would know except them. And the other two after the show. Somehow Mox was still bloody for work.

“What did you two do?” Yuta asked as he and Bryan walked into their hotel room to find the pair finally tending to their wounds appropriately.

“Claudio fucked Mox through the wall.” Bryan supplied as he stepped past Yuta, totally unphased by the circumstances of their hotel room. “Why do you think the wall was broken in the locker room, Wheeler?”

“Seriously?” Yuta blinked at the snickering pair.

“He got a victory lap so I wouldn’t get hard during Bryan’s match.” Mox explained, he had to lift his arm above his head to allow Claudio space to put a few butterfly bandages on a cut. “It was really hot too. We were covered in blood.”

“You’re disgusting.” Yuta grinned, leaning down to kiss Mox. It was a compliment after all. “And you,” Yuta kissed the side of Claudio’s head instead since the man was working. “Freak.”

“Shithead.” Mox mumbled. “Claudio kept slamming me into the wall. When can you do that, Yuta?”

“Shut up.” Yuta rolled his eyes. “I’d put you through one of these walls right now if you weren’t already messed up.”

“Sure, sure. Know what? Just for that, I’ll line up a match with Josh for ya, kid.” Mox smirked at the terrified expression Yuta gave him.

“We all know you just want to fuck Barnett, Mox.” Bryan sighed as he laid back in bed. The dragon was satisfied. Mostly.

“That big bitch.” Mox scoffed. “He’s a fuckin’ tease is what he is.”

“You love a big bitch.” Claudio gave Mox a peck on the mouth. “You’re all bandaged.”

“Thanks, babe. You’re hot when we play doctor.” Mox slid a little closer to Claudio.

“I basically just fucked Zack Sabre, Jr. in the ring and you’re trying to get seconds?” Bryan glared at both of them. “I beat Zack.” Bryan grinned. “I can’t wait to wrestle him again.”

“Yuta, go apologize for losing by keeping Bryan busy. I wanna fuck Claudio again.” Mox shooed the other away as he tossed his leg over Claudio’s hip. “After all, Claudio beat Josh, and I haven’t. Only right.”

“You’re fucking weird, dude.” Yuta shook his head as he jumped onto the bed with Bryan.

“We’re all weird. Now,” Bryan pushed his shorts down. “Suck my dick while I watch them.”

#no beta #in a hurry #kisses will tag later #rangerwritten #claudio castagnoli #jon moxley #bryan danielson #wheeler yuta #fanfiction #fanfic #aew fic #fic #aew fanfiction #aew fanfic #bcc #blackpool combat club #bcc fic

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emptymanuscript · 6 months

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One of the essays sitting and percolating in my brain is about how much (and more importantly WHY) I loathe the idea of Hard vs. Soft magic systems and how terribly these concepts are for thinking about magicbuilding.

While also in no way objecting to Sanderson's 3 Laws of Magic which I actually love because they are so clever and usable. I'm all for them.

It's a dialectic. Sue me. I just don't think that the 3 laws actually necessitate the hardness scale of magic. At all. And in some ways the two ideas actively work against each other.

I just know it is a HUGE essay, involving a lot of work and data gathering. And I feel like I can't be bothered to expend that much effort within even the medium term. So... it just kind of sits there and occasionally I'll run into something that reminds me: oh, yeah, I kinda wanna do that. Like, this is pretty good but it would be ten times as brilliant if you weren't hampered by the idea of a hardness scale of magic.

I ran into somebody today trying to talk about a pyramid of magic users that was partly dependent on this idea of a chart of Magic Hardness on the Y axis and Diversity of Magical Expression on the X axis. For four fundamental quadrants of Hard Diverse, Hard Same, Soft Diverse, and Soft Same. The last of which he couldn't think of any examples of and I'm just sitting here thinking: yeah, because one of your axes is wrong and its getting in the way of you saying something brilliant.

Think instead of several diversities: Sources of Magic, Types of Magic, Expressions of Magic, and User Variability as a 4D model. Each converging at 0, no magic. Each going to ∞, meaning each kind is entirely individual to the caster and is measured by the number of casters instead of the number of magics. And useful numbers for fiction falling somewhere in the relatively low range of numbers.

So, for the favorite Hard Magic (grumble) example, AtlA, you would have 1 source of magic: Chi. 5 types of magic: Water, Earth, Fire, Air, and Spirit. Then 2 basic expressions of magic: Elemental Control and Spiritual Control. And finally a relatively low (numbers aren't very useful but expectations are) amount of user variability in that expression. This can be shown to the audience with any level of clarity, without altering the system itself.

For the favorite Soft Magic (still grumbling) example, LotR, you would have an unknown number of sources of magic because it is never really delved into. However, it is possible to count what actually appears, and that is a low number, with some possible overlap: There's magic in the race you belong to, there's magic in the divine plan, there's magic in words and speech, there's magic in things sublimely crafted, there's magic in your intent, there's magic in birthright (not your race but your family lineage), there's magic in herb-lore and nature, there's magic in corruption, and there's magic in knowing/wisdom. It is possible to divide all those into separate categories or to unify all those into the singular Divine Will with many offshoots. The types of magic, again, are not enumerated and delved into but can be counted. There seems to be mostly the use of (un)natural phenomenon, communication/command/seduction, knowing/wisdom/fortune telling/working with fate, crafting things to do magic for you, necromancy/corruption, and oaths. Again there is overlap or not depending on opinion since the story doesn't delve into it. And user variability is fairly high in that it isn't particularly useful to know what one magic user can do in order to predict what another magic user can do. And this is really what makes it a "soft system" that whatever rules underlie the system are not only not communicated to the reader directly but aren't communicated in such a way that the underlying system is deducible. It is entirely possible to make a "Hard Magic System" (just ugh) that would produce exactly what we see in LotR. What makes it soft is the information we get, not the system itself.

And that really is my basic issue with Hard/Soft Magic as an idea. It conflates multiple different bits of information into a single bit that isn't dictated by any one of the original bits.

The Idea of Hard vs. Soft Magic relies on the idea that the perception of the Magic System is the same in the Imagination of the Author, their Expectations of the Audience and that Audience's Reception, their intentions, the Encoded piece of Art - the text itself, the Consensus Audience's Interpretations, the Individual Audience's Interpretations, AND the cultural interpretation of story as applied to this whole mess.

While literally none of that has to be true.

It is (accidentally?) doing the precision opposite of what the Artist Philosophy does at its worst. It is elevating the audience experience of Story over every other factor. It is essentially saying that every other position on the map must accept "my" interpretation and play to it. It's flipping the script - ex: men are good so women are bad but now we've had our glorious revolution so now women are good so men are bad - instead of actually addressing the problem inherent in the script - one gender is portrayed as superior to another.

BUT that's like two examples out of... hundreds? Thousands? Per year! >_<

Two texts aren't a sufficient corpus of material to talk about these sorts of things. Neither is one figure to illustrate the issue out of one textbook. And I just DON'T want to deal with that level of work. Especially since no one will really particularly care. And the minority that would be interested are generally pretty happy with the Hard / Soft divide because they're the readers whose views are being reflected. So...

No point.

And this is why I shouldn't write essays anyway. I just wrote an essay about NOT writing an essay >_< I have issues >_< it's just... so much thought on how to do things on the back end (writing and worldbuilding advice) which is growing excellently right now would be so much better without that Hard-Soft conceit which is just... *sigh* an entire essay on why it is an issue. With half probably devoted to soothing egos and rough reactions of 'but it works for me.' Which is the point. The entire point.

And ugh.

And I'm probably only putting work into this in this way here so I won't feel the need to lash out at my sister quite so intensely. Again >_< I have issues.

And thanks for reading / sorry for writing. You know. Me and essays :/

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omgscrumptiousllamasuit-blog · 5 months

Text

Be My King (Till Death Do Us Part, Chris King x Reader fic)

Description: A sweet lil ficlet on how Chris’s route should have gone in TDDUP. For everyone who dreams about finding a king and treating him well.

By the way, this fic (and Till Death do Us Part) ARE ONLY FOR PEOPLE AGED 18 AND OVER. IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 OR A MINOR IN YOUR COUNTRY-DO NOT READ.

I’ve written this from a female’s perspective but you’re free to insert your pronouns and reimagine the scene from your preferred gender’s perspective. This is my first explicit fic so you’ve been warned. Hehe.

—-- The Sun’s rays illuminate your room as you blink sleepily. The morning air feels cold on your skin, making you realise that Chris isn’t next to you. If he had been, you’d have felt his warm arms wrapped around you in a bear hug. That’s how the both of you drifted off to sleep after last night’s intense lovemaking session. You turn over. True to your suspicions, the spot next to you is empty. Your graze drifts to the door, where his track suit usually hangs. It was gone. You suppose that Chris is out on his daily morning run.

A smile tugs at your lips as you stretch languidly on the bed and recall the previous night’s events. Your pussy is sore, but pleasantly so. You recall your gasps and moans as he delicatedly tongued your cunt, and his delight as you squirted onto his face. Your fingers play with your moistening folds as you recall how you rode the waves of ecstasy on his magnificent cock.

You tilt your head as you wonder how he’s able to exercise even after last night. It’s due to his strength and determination, no doubt. Those qualities will bring him far one day, you think to yourself.

Eventually, you can no longer ignore your gnawing stomach. You pad over to your wardrobe and select an outfit for the day. After a warm shower, you head down to the kitchen for breakfast. While you’d love to keep Chris’s scent and fluids on you for as long as possible, you have to work later and it simply wouldn’t do to turn up smelling of sex.

You head downstairs and find a covered plate waiting for you on the tabletop. You uncover it to reveal freshly-scrambled eggs and fluffy hash browns…that have turned ice-cold. A small matter, you chuckle to yourself as you microwave the meal. Once you’ve done so, you devour the food. It is delicious, as is the cup of freshly-squeezed orange juice that he’d prepared.

You wash your plate and cutlery. You return them to their proper place, and then your heart leaps to your throat. You realise that apart from two pathetic packets of ramen, the pantry is completely empty. You fervently pray that Chris somehow manages to close a sale today.; you need that commission if you want to buy next week’s groceries.

Just then, you hear him entering the house. “Good morning,” he calls out, poking his head around the kitchen door. He spies your empty plate and shoots you a satisfied grin.

“Your cooking was sublime,” you assure him, enjoying his bashful expression. “The food went cold, but I could reheat it so don’t worry.”

“Thank you, dear,” he replies. “I have something for you,” he adds shyly as he holds out a flower. “I picked it from the ground, especially for you.”

“Oh-” you are at a loss for words. A daffodil - your favourite! “Thank you so much, sweetie,” you reply, dropping a quick kiss on his lips. He snakes his arms around your waist and pulls you in, running his tongue along your lips. You stand contentedly for a few moments and savour the kiss, running your hands through his hair. You then push gently on his chest. “Honey, we have to go to work soon,” you giggle against his lips. He immediately lets go and steps back, looking slightly sheepish.

“Did you gel your hair? I could feel it just now,” you ask. “Yup!” Chris replies. “They say that if you gel your hair back, it improves your confidence,” he muses, giving you a sidelong look. You tap a finger against your chin. "That makes sense," you ponder. "If you don't subconsciously 'hide' your face behind your hair, you'll come across as more confident. So cute of you to try it out though," you chuckle. Your voice then takes on a sombre note. “You have plenty to be confident about anyway,” you tell him. “You just don’t realise your true worth.”

You gaze at each other for a few seconds, then something pops into your mind.

“Oh!” You hold a finger up. “I almost forgot! I have a gift waiting upstairs for you. Follow me.”

Chris arches an eyebrow. “A gift like last night, eh?” he answers huskily and curves his lips into a devious smirk.

You stomp your foot playfully. “Honey, just follow me. It’s a work-related gift!”

“Ah.” Chris deflates slightly but still trudges up the stairs, his massive strides nearly overtaking your excited hops. Nevertheless, you beat him to the bedroom door and head straight to a locked drawer. “Ta-daaaa!” You proudly brandish a brand new tailor-made suit. Chris’s eyes widen. “T-that’s-” he stutters.

“I took your measurements to the tailor. You’ll look positively dapper in this suit,” you gush, stroking his arm. “You have such an amazing figure, and this suit will show it off really well at work." You’d spent a hefty portion of last month’s paycheck on this, but it was worth it to see his radiant smile.

Chris groans. “Sweetie…I don’t think that’s going to impress my colleagues. They already have such a bad opinion of me.”

Your eyes narrow. “Now, you look here, mister,” you start, poking a finger in his chest. “Sure, you’re not perfect. You do have things to improve on…but none of us are perfect. It’s true that a salesman needs the gift of the gab. That’s something you can achieve with practice, a nurturing environment and a growth mindset.”

You take a deep breath. “ We just have to keep going, no matter what. Even if your current workplace doesn’t appreciate your enthusiasm and skills, you’ll find one that will. Aaaaand…that’s the end of my TED talk,” you finish, spying the clock. “Goodness me! You should get going!”

“Ah-yes!” Chris’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates. “I need to change!”

You chuckle. “I love you, baby,” you coo, blowing a kiss at him and leaving him to change. —

After Chris leaves, you change into your scrubs and head to the hospital. Time flies and before you know it, you are on your way back home. Strangely, Chris’s car is already in the driveway. Your eyes narrow slightly as you see another car. Aria’s here.You stride into the house and find the two of them together, chatting and laughing.

You smile wanly. “Hi, Aria.” You massage your temples. “I’ve got a headache, so I’ll just rest upstairs,” you explain, heading up the stairs.

Once you reach the master bedroom, you flop onto your bed and play idly with your hair. The sounds of laughter waft up to the bedroom as you stare at the ceiling. You’re not rude to Aria, of course not - you have to be polite for Chris’s sake. You’re grateful that Aria helped to pay for the house and you know that Aria is one of the few support figures in Chris’s life. You’d never want to isolate him from his loved ones.

At the same time…Aria is odd. You wonder if you’re imagining things, but the way she looks at him and touches him…a tad sultry, a tad inviting.

In addition, you’ve heard…rumours about Aria’s friends. Oh, you know that she’s a well-connected attorney. Her friends are moneyed and apparently, some of that money comes from...illicit activities like trafficking. If those rumours are true, you don’t want to associate with people of her ilk. If only Chris didn’t depend on Aria so much!

Chris needs more friends, you conclude. They don't even need to be your friends either. Maybe he could join a boxing club, or a public speaking club. Perhaps with a better social life and more activities, Chris would have a better support system and spend less time around his deadbeat parents, Aria, and her undesirable friends. You wonder about inviting your parents over to stay someday. Maybe Chris would like that.

As you refocus, you realise that you can no longer hear Aria’s voice. Chris’s voice is audible, but muffled. You realise that he’s talking on the phone to someone and your ears perk up. It couldn’t be someone from his workplace, could it? They never call him after work, and he did end early today…

Curiosity overcomes you and you head downstairs. Chris stands like a lost child, holding his phone loosely. The call had ended a few moments prior. “Honey…” his face falls. “I’ve been fired again.” Oh Gods no. You gape at him, slack-jawed. The bills are due next week and you’re stretching your paycheck as far as you can. Why did you buy that suit for him?

You resist the urge to clutch at your hair and scream. Enough, you tell yourself firmly. Chris needs you.

“Give me a hug, baby,” you murmur as you wrap your arms around him. You nuzzle his chest, and then it’s like a dam breaking. He dissolves into sobs, clutching at your shirt like a drowning boy

“I…I tried so hard,” he says in between sobs. “W-what’s wrong with me? Why does everyone h-hate me? I only w-want to do my best!” “Oh, honey,” you coo, stroking his hair. “Plenty of people have been fired before. I’ve been fired before. It’s almost like a rite of passage.” A lump rises in your throat as the terrible memories flood your mind. You give yourself a shake and grip him tightly. “It hurts, it really does. All of a sudden, a lifeline’s been yanked from you. The future seems like an abyss. You wonder what to do next. You wonder if your ex-boss will ruin your future prospects. You feel…stained.” You feel him tremble in your arms before you cup his face and gaze into his eyes. “But there are jobs out there. Jobs come and go. Even if you get fired again and again, it’s not always you. Sometimes, it’s a phase. Sometimes, each bad experience makes you more vulnerable to the next bully...” You stare at him and stroke his arms. “But I don’t want to enable you. We need to take responsibility for our actions. Alright? You’re not always in the right either. You need to take a good, hard look at yourself and see what you’ve been doing wrong. We all need to do this every now and then. But you can do that later. You need to heal now. One step at a time.”

Chris chokes on his tears. “I-I’m sorry for burdening you like this…” “You are not a burden,” you tell him. “We’re a team. We’ll get through this together.”

Chris tries to smile bravely through his tears. “I could-hic-ask Aria for help.” “...Yes, you could,” you respond, feeling a twinge of annoyance . “Or I could just work some more shifts in the meantime. You don’t need her for everything, you know.”

Chris looks like a lost puppy. “I just want the both of you to be friends..” he trails off. You brush his hair from his face. “Of course I get along with her. She comes over for dinner, right? But never mind that. Focus on healing yourself first. Baby steps.”

Chris grips you tightly as you steer him up the stairs and to your master bedroom. As he flops onto the bed, you strip nude and join him. You nestle yourself into the crook of his arm, pressing your breasts against his chest. You want to comfort him however he likes…if he is in the mood.

He says nothing, although he absentmindedly plays with your nipples and squeezes them. Your stomach growls once again. You’re painfully aware that it’s dinnertime and instant ramen is your last meal for the foreseeable future, but you talk to keep the fear at bay.

“Y’know, once you’ve rested a little, you should take a cooking course. Or even sign up as a personal trainer,” you suggest. “You’re good at these things. Maybe become a boxing coach?”

“...I’ll think about it,” Chris says and you understand. He needs time to think - and sometimes, it’s far easier to continue thinking “what-if” than to make the actual leap and risk failure.

He can’t take too long to jump, or he’ll get left behind. But you’ll neverlet him get left behind. “Why did you buy that suit for me, huh?” Chris smiles ruefully at you. “Such a waste of money.”

You snort and ignore the jolt of despair in your stomach. “Nonsense. You’ll need it for interviews. That magic suit will make everyone hire you in a jiffy! Before you know it, you’ll be a celebrity chef at some overpriced hotel. Or a personal trainer to a fat old billionaire. Or even a boxing star.”

You roll away from him and mock-gag. “Then you’ll be a part of the nouveau riche. Gross.” Chris tickles you in response. As you giggle and swat at him, he grabs your wrists and pins you down on the bed. “I’ll show you gross,” he breathes as he captures your lips in an earth-shattering kiss.

As you eagerly yield, as he ties you up and you come undone, you feel full of love and a little less scared.

Ending Comments: There ya go! Not my best work, because I was so excited and I just wanted to get these thoughts off my chest. I’m not used to writing stories in present tense and from the reader’s perspective so there may be some slip-ups from time to time (despite my proof-reading efforts…)

I would totally marry a guy like Chris. Such a sweetie pie who cooks for you, picks flowers for you and tells you that he loves you. When a guy does that in the real world, he may or may not be covering some misdeeds. In Chris’s case, it’s totally genuine and it’s so…pure. Who wouldn’t want that?!

On a sombre note - I know how it feels to endure abuse for many years and respond by trying to be as gentle and sweet as possible, while dealing with pent-up rage. So I totally get how he feels.

#tddup #till death do us part #boyfriend to death #chris king #aria king #tddup chris #TDDUP #electricpuke #there i fixed it #rotworld

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windsweptinred · 2 months

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Hey, had this image of Morpheus as a massive Raven hovering in the air behind Daniel in my head and thought you would maybe like it as well. Maybe I'll draw it one day but until then I've written it. Hope you enjoy this :)

The dark entity rises in front of Dream while he watches with neither anger nor fear only a hint of curiosity on his fine boyish features.

"Now Dreamlord what shall I do to you, after I’ve slayed your oh so loyal pet?" The entity gestures dismissively to the bloody body of the Corinthian lying on the ground. "You are just a child after all nothing like your predecessor. Not even worse a challenge, letting others fight your fights."

Dream’s lips twitch. "I apologize for the transgressions of my nightmare, he is sometimes a bit overeager." A short glance to the side confirms that said nightmare is already getting up again while cursing quite colorfully under his breath. "But if you rather want to measure yourself with my predecessor than me I can certainly ask him if he would be willing to do so. But I should warn you he won't be in the best mood. As far as I know, he had a date planned for this evening."

"What?" The entity frowns in confusion. Dream however closes his eyes and hums under his breath. The Corinthian has by now staggered to his lord's side complaining about his ruined suit. After a moment the new Dreamlord opens his eyes again and smiles a little bit brighter now. "He will be here shortly." The smile gets a little mean tilt. "I hope you don't mind his form though, he was indeed not pleased to be interrupted."

Before the entity can answer a strong wind sweeps over the area. Sand and little stones swirl around and lift into the air. The wind picks up more and more before a huge black shape dives out of the sky.

With one powerful beat of its massive wings, it stops short of touching the ground. Black as night it hovers behind the young man, making his white curls and clothes dance in the gust of its beating wings.

Dream smiles up at the monstrous raven, the stars in his eyes reflecting back at him from the dark ones of the beast.

"I'm sorry for the interruption of your evening but this guest here thought you would be a worthier challenge than me," the young man says with a beatific smile.

A deep rumbling scratching sound, a grotesque rendition of a chuckle, comes from the raven. "Then he must not know who he faces."

"It appears to be so. But perhaps he would like to compare, if you would like to join me?"

Again the rumbling scratching chuckle from the raven, "With pleasure. Let us show him the old and new terror of Nightmare. He may decide afterward which was more to his liking."

The Corinthian scoffed, "Sure you haven't gone soft in your retirement Morpheus?"

The raven turns his massive head towards the nightmare. "You are welcome to judge as well, little nightmare. Though I do not think this will take long." With that the raven turns to the entity in front of them. It seems to flinch when the dark eyes fix it in place. "Not long indeed. Shall we, my dear successor?"

"After you, Morpheus," the young man in white says, smile still on his soft lips, though as he turns to the entity, sharp teeth seem to glint behind them.

Just Morpheus and Daniel tag teaming and completely obliterating whoever thought to stand in their way. Morpheus would be so offended on Daniel's behalf here. How dare anyone think his successor would not be better than him.

Btw no idea what the situation with Morpheus here is, he is retired but can still visit the dreaming and be either nightmare or dream, really no idea, only had the image and no context XD

Anon this is glorious! I cannot express what an honour and delight it was to find this waiting in my ask box!

I love how you captured Daniel, the 'boyish' sweetness with something decidedly more sinister lurking beneath the surface. He's so assured in this and it's sublime. The way his challenger uses Morpheus as a goad, but Daniel just shrugs it off in a, 'Well, it's your funeral' kind of way. 😅

I absolutely adored the relationship between Morpheus and Daniel. I think so often, we (myself included) picture their relationship as an imbalanced mentor/ student or retired!human/Endless one. But here, they have such a fist bump, we got this moment. They've got a perfect equilibrium in power and relationship and I love it! And Morpheus being offended on Danny's behalf. My heart! 💖💖💖

And the Corinthian rushing in there like a protective attack dog. Even though he knows Dream can more then handle the situation. Because ofcourse he would. And I think I'm now going to have to offically headcanon Cori getting a cheeky one liner in about retirement/here's the old guard/OK boomer whenever he meets Morpheus. 🤣

Hmmm, I've always liked to picture the relationship between Daniel and retired! Morpheus being more fluid. Almost a ying yang in that they have a little of each other in them. There's no saying Morpheus can't still tap into a little Endless in the Dreaming, while Daniel can tap into a little humanity in the Waking. Especially in regards to your fic, I love to think the links not entirely severed.

Once again thank you so much for this! I can't express how happy I was to read it. If you ever do illustrate it, please let me know!

#dream of the endless #morpheus #daniel hall #the corinthian #the sandman #Fic rec #Cause it's heartwarmingly perfect #Asks #Anon I was definitely picturing my own ships while reading this #But if you'd like any particular ones tagging #Just let me know

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