#hel performance | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sp0o0kylights · 1 month ago

Text

“Dustin isn’t coming.”

“What?” Eddie says, all frantic and jovial movements freezing instantly.

His eyes narrow on Lucas--the bearer of bad news. “Why?”

“Family emergency.”

Mike makes a face. “I saw his mom yesterday and she was fine, so is this a…?”

He makes a gesture that is entirely incomprehensible to anyone who isn’t Sinclair and his terrifying girlfriend.

(At least, Eddie thinks Max is Lucas’s girlfriend this week. It got a little hard to keep up after the third break-up-make-up marathon, and he frankly, stopped bothering to try.

It helped that she barely spoke--The only time notable being when Eddie had mockingly asked Sinclair if he needed a cheerleader when she’d first sat in, upon which she’d asked Eddie if he needed new kneecaps with a look in her eye that said she was serious.)

Wheeler Jr.’s gesture however, made her put her book down.

“You think he’s having migraines again?” She not so much asked as demanded, which had Mike shrugging.

“Dunno." Lucas says. "Dustin didn’t say.”

“Gotta be, if he called Dustin.” Mike mutters, Lucas shuffling his papers about as he begins to set up for Hellfire. He was the last in the room, practically late, which Eddie had planned on harassing him for had he not announced Henderson’s absence.

(Fucking freshmen. They just weren’t terrified of Eddie like they used to be.)

“Robin must be sick or something, otherwise he’d call her.” Lucas finishes as he finally sits down.

“Didn’t the Marching Band go on some trip?” Mike turns to address the rest of the table, and gets nods from Jeff and Gareth both.

“Yeah they’re marching in some parade in Indianapolis.” Jeff confirms.

“So his last resort was Dustin?” Max is getting that tone in her voice, the one that makes everyone at Hellfire very uncomfortable. “Typical.”

She pushes away from the table, making a show of gathering up her things before rising easily to her feet.

Eddie trades looks with the elder Hellfire members as she makes her exit--the kind that says they’re all going to be talking about this later.

They knew their freshmen had some weird obsession with the former King, of course, but Mayfield too?

What the hell was up with that guy?

At least Eddie thinks, right before things are once again shot to shit, they can go back to playing the game.

He can make it work this early into things, and if Henderson isn't’ a fan of what he’s about to do to the kid’s character in his absence, well.

Maybe he shouldn’t be fucking absent then.

“So what, Max, you're gonna go over there and make it worse?” Mike snorts.

Fatal mistake.

Eddie almost strangles him for it, if only because it prolongs this entire unnecessary conversation.

Max performs a military perfect heel turn, coming straight back for Wheeler Jr., which makes him right about fall out of his seat in panic.

“What was that, Wheeler?”

“I’m just saying--!”

“We don’t know Steve’s having migraines.” Lucas reiterates, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Maybe it’s something else.”

“Does Steve get migraines a lot?” Grant asks, because despite all appearances he’s a terrible gossip and gets sucked in far too easily.

Eddie throws a pencil at him for it.

“Hel-looo, we have a game!?” He thunders, but unfortunately for him, precious Stevie-Weavies headache now has everyone’s attention.

“Yeah, though he’s really good at pretending he doesn’t.” Lucas answers with a put upon sigh.

“There’s a whole pattern--he ignores it until it gets super bad, then he has to call Robin or Dustin to come get him when he inevitably gets stranded at work or the like, grocery store.”

“Well who else do you think he’d call?” Mike scoffs again. He does a lot of that, when discussing Harrington. “It’s not like his parents are--Ow, Max!”

“Close your mouth before I close it for you.” She hisses and Mike, shockingly, does just that.

To Eddie, she says;

“Your ass isn’t any better, or did you forget I live across from you?”

Eddie--who had an insult primed and ready--promptly shuts his mouth.

(Fucking! Asshole! Freshmen!)

“Maybe I should go too.” Lucas says, hedging a look between his girlfriend and his DM.

“No.” She snaps, pointing a finger at him.

“If you go, then this idiot,” she flicks her finger to Mike, “will go and then we really will make it worse. Stay here before your bichon frise has a fit about all his sheep abandoning him.”

Then she’s turning on her heel again, storming out.

“What the hell’s a bichon frisé?” Gareth asks in the aftermath, frowning.

“It’s a type of ahhhh--” Jeff clearly thinks better of the explanation, eyes sliding to Eddie.

Who’s scowling.

“I know what a bichon frisé is, Jeff.” He snaps.

“I don’t.” Grant loudly complains.

Jeff attempts to both calm Eddie and explain while Mike and Lucas spend far too many minutes looking after Max.

“Enough!” Eddie howls, temper finally getting the best of him. “Are we playing or do you also need to go sit by the King’s bedside?”��

“Thank you,” Mike says, like he wasn’t a third of the entire problem. “Let’s play!”

They make it about ten entire minutes before getting knocked off track again.

In fairness, not that Eddie would ever admit it--the second meltdown is his own fault.

xXx

Hellfire is Eddie’s domain.

It’s one of the few places where he could relax without getting harassed or hounded, and having his freshmen--his!--abandon him for King Fucking Steve had set him off.

So he’d made a few comments about it.

Maybe introduced an NPC who sounded suspiciously similar to Harrington, only to instantly kill him off.

Made another couple of nasty comments.

Who cares? It worked him through his snit rather nicely, and his boys all knew to leave him be.

Except, apparently, for Lucas.

“Dude, would you lay off?” The kid finally snaps, pencil slamming down on the table.

Which is the most backbone-like thing anyone has ever heard Sinclair say, and he gets far more whistles for it than he should.

Eddie pins him in place with a glare.

“What was that Sinclair?” He snarls, voice as menacing as he can make it.

(It’s pretty terrifying, he’s practiced quite a bit with it.)

Sinclair flinches, but doesn’t back down.

“I said lay off. Steve has migraines because of--” He stops, before seeming to come to a decision. “Because of me. He took a hit for me, and I owe him a life debt for it.”

To Eddie, he says; “You get what those are, right?”

Mike rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t just for you--”

“That time with Billy was!” Lucas is quick to snarl. “But you know what Mike, you’re right. It wasn’t just for me. He T-boned a car for all of us!”

Sinclaire is on his feet now, which is the unfortunate moment that Eddie realizes he has once again lost control of the room.

A situation he firmly blames on Steve Harrington, because he’s petty.

“Or did you forget that part? That’s you, me, Will, Nancy and Jonathan right there! Nevermind the tunnel. Or the junkyard!

“We had the junkyard handled--”

Lucas scoffs.

“We absolutely did not.”

“I don’t get why you’re all making such a big deal out of this. He’s the fighter. That’s what he does. That’s why we brought him to the tunnel.”

“You recall what happened at Starcourt, right?” Lucas challenges, furious. “You did see him after, right?”

This, finally, seems to shut Mike up.

“Shouldn’t you be mad at him for that?” He says after a moment, and the rest of Hellfire has completely put aside all actual gaming to watch this play out with a morbid sort of fascination.

Eddie allows it, only because he’s trying to breathe the way Wayne taught him to before he loses it entirely and throws both of the idiot kids out of the drama room.

“He pulled your sister into it.”

“Have you met Erica!? You can’t pull her into shit!” Lucas spits furiously. “That wasn’t D&D, Mike. It was the Upsi--real life.”

Lucas is quick to correct himself, even in the heat of the moment--as all the kids are, like the entire school hasn’t clocked that they have some weird ass secret they’re terrible at hiding.

“And if we’re playing those games, then who pulled him into the tunnels? Who made him come to the junkyard?”

“Dustin.” Mike says snidely.

“You don’t get to blame Dustin when Steve was the only person around.”

“There were people around! They just weren’t people who--weren’t--who couldn’t--”

“Finish that sentence.” Lucas demands

“Be trusted.” Mike spits out, like it hurts him.

“Exactly.”

“El went through way more than Steve ever has! El--”

“El was using her po--doing mage things! And also, she shouldn’t have had to go through all this shit either! We can’t rely on her to save the day every single time, Mike--and look at how hurt she gets!”

“She--”

“She hides it from you, you know. How bad she hurts. Cause she wants to put your feelings first.”

“I--”

“Will does too.” Is Lucas’s parting shot. His backpack is in his hands in a blink, papers and character figure shoved wildly into it, before he’s storming out the door in a poor mimicry of Mayfield.

“Harrington T-Boned a car?” Grant says, in the resounding silence.

“That BMW of his hasn’t had a scratch on it--” Jeff says, with an inquisitive tilt to his head.

“He didn’t use the Beamer.” Mike interrupts, angry and sulking. “Are we playing or not?”

“I’m gonna say not, given we are down two players.’ Eddie tells him through clenched teeth.

“I’m going to be so mad if Steve doesn’t have a migraine.” Mike grumbles, as he begins packing up his stuff.

The rest of Hellfire follow his lead, after one look at Eddie’s face convince the lot of them that it’s best to flee now, before Eddie unleashes all his pent up rage.

“Not as mad as I’ll be, Wheeler.” Eddie promises darkly.

And it is a promise--because now, he’s going to follow all his stupid (sans Mike, who isn’t in his good graces either but at least stayed) freshmen--and go visit one fallen King.

If Harrington doesn’t have a headache now, he will when Eddie’s done with him.

2K notes · View notes

earlgreydream · 3 months ago

Text

Throne. || god!Loki x reader

this lovely anon message spoke to me, you know my favorite thing is being loki's little slut: all i can think of is i would love to be lokis little throne pet... i want him to threaten me everyday to freeze me like he did heimdall if i act up or defend thor - oh to be a loki boot licker

Loki wasn't paying attention. Great festivities were happening before him, celebrating the young prince, yet he couldn't bring himself to care.

He was far too busy entertaining himself with you, his little pet kneeling between his legs. You were at the base of his throne where you belonged, your hand gently palming the growing tent in his leather pants. Loki shifted his weight, leaning back to give you better access to an Adonis body.

"Come here," he reached down, wrapping a large hand around your bicep and hauling you upwards to straddle his lap.

You looked over your shoulder to see Thor approaching, the reason that Loki had moved you. He was extremely possessive, known to take the sight of anyone who dared to even look at you in way that angered him. Dark jealousy flashed across Loki's features and he grabbed your jaw to turn you back to him. He was well aware of his brother’s lust for you, a motivation to kill Thor if it weren’t for their father.

"Don't look at him."

"Yes, master," you conceded softly, parting your lips as his thumb ran across them.

Your fingertips trailed over the defined muscles of his chest, his skin smooth and hard under your touch. You gazed at Loki from beneath your lashes, silently asking for more. He was eager to indulge you both, simmering with annoyance at the interruption. Normally, he’d just let the festivities continue while you worshipped his cock. However, there was no way in all nine realms that Loki would allow his brother to enjoy your vulgar performance.

"Brother, it's a celebration! Won't you share your toys?" Thor shouted drunkenly, the stupid jovial smile infuriating Loki.

He stumbled onto the throne’s platform, an offense no one else would survive. While you trusted Loki, the rapid approach of Thor startled you. You leaned into Loki, close enough to hear the heavy breathing of the angry god.

Loki caught Thor's wrist when he reached out to touch you, fury burning in his gaze. The possessive god would never allow Thor — or anyone else to touch you. He had made it clear that you were to be as loyal — lest you wanted to suffer the same frozen fate as Heimdall. Threats weren’t necessary to maintain your devotion, and Loki knew this, knowing you would follow him into Hel.

"What do you think, pet? Will you service my brother?" Loki's head tilted to the side as he studied your expression.

"I only serve you, Loki," you shook your head.

Loki threw Thor back, the older god slamming against the golden walls of Asgard’s palace. The guests howled with laughter, quickly drawing all of the attention back to Thor. The two of you were quickly forgotten, the breath you held escaping in a relieved sigh.

“Very obedient,” Loki praised, sitting up to kiss you.

His mouth was warm against yours, tasting of whiskey and familiarity. Your fingers threaded into onyx tresses of his long hair, pulling yourself ever closer to him.

“You’re mine,” he hissed against your lips, earning a soft whine of agreement as you sat back.

“I will only ever be yours, master,” you promised, glowing under Loki’s approval.

He leaned back, slowly rubbing a hand up your thigh. The light from behind made you look ethereal, and his party was once again forgotten as he admired you. Loki gently stroked your cheek, his eyes softening as you leaned into the touch.

“Please,” you murmured softly, aching for him.

Normally, someone in your position would never express need out of turn, but Loki held a soft spot for you. It aroused him when you begged, and truth be told, though you were his pet, he was happy to spoil you.

#loki #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki marvel #loki odinson #loki x reader #loki x you #loki smut #loki x reader smut #tom hiddleston #avengers!loki #avengers #marvel #marvel fanfic

423 notes · View notes

theminecraftbee · 6 months ago

Text

for anyone wondering where i've been: i got... distracted... by a potential huge project. I was considering running a mcrp project/smp project, inspired by stuff like fan life series servers, with the rest of the sexyman team! but... a different one. a very specific one, even.

now, I'm aware there are probably outstanding questions, so if you're uncertain, please read more event/server details below the cut and see if it interests you!

I don't know anything about Survivor–what would this show even be like?

so if you know nothing about survivor, it's easy to think it's a show about surviving on a deserted island. it is that, but it's not mainly that. survivor, at its heart, is a social deception game, about making close alliances, betraying people, and social dynamics under pressure–hence why i suspect it would be a great fit for mcrp.

the way the show would be structured is this: a certain number of contestants would be placed on a (slightly modified) survival server, set up to be difficult to survive on. they are placed into two "tribes", the teams for the first half of the show. every episode, they would spend time with their tribes bonding, surviving, searching for secrets, and base building. then, they would compete in challenges. the tribe that loses the immunity challenge must go to tribal council, where they vote on which member to send home. this continues with the tribes eventually merging together into one tribe and immunity becoming individual before there are only two contestants left. at that time, they go in front a jury of their former fellow contestants, who will determine who the sole survivor is.

while challenge performance is one key to winning (as it prevents you from being a target in the first place), the other, bigger key, as you can likely see, is forming alliances and voting blocks strategically to get your opponents voted out and yourself kept in. this makes a great vehicle for social emergent storytelling, where narratives emerge about who is honest, who is a liar, who is good at the social game, who is bad at it, and what people will do in order to become sole survivor.

in other words: it's kind of like what current-day mcrp is ALREADY about. except its a gameshow also, and the very construction of the thing is designed to cause tensions by its very nature.

it's great! and you wouldn't be required to know anything about survivor–our host would explain to the audience all of the mechanics as they came up, as would production staff to the players.

You keep calling it "a show"–what do you mean by that?

the result of this project would be an edited youtube series, like survivor, of likely around twelve episodes. each episode would show footage from the game, as well as a lot of "confessionals" shots of the players explaining their opinions, before ending in tribal council! unlike most mcrp series, this would not be a multiple pov affair. it would be one tightly edited project. (this editing, for the record, is the largest overhead; we expect the amount of footage to go through to end up being in the hundreds of hours combined between all the players.)

it's possible that after the show's finale releases we'll release the players to make their own highlights from any footage they take. but the product we're hoping to make is just a single TV show's worth!

what exactly does applying to be a contestant require?

if we get enough interest, once we have enough of the required plugins and builds created and have a better sense of gameplay, we will put out a casting call form. while this will ask a number of questions to help us get to know you as a potential player, you're going to be REQUIRED to have the following things: a tumblr blog that you can link us to, the ability to record an audition tape in minecraft to send to us (so that we can get an idea of what audio we'd be working with, mostly), enough free time for us to be able to schedule recording sessions into, and a willingness to agree to some rules about keeping things secret until the finale airs and about rp etiquette. that's it! there are no other requirements–you don't have to know survivor, you don't have to already do mcyt or stream, you don't have to have friends, none of it, and while we'll ask you for those details, we're going to be looking for a large blend of people from across mcyt! anyone (who can send us mostly clean audio) can be considered!

EDIT: we would ALSO REQUIRE YOU BE AT LEAST 18. sorry i forgot this before! this is for a number of reasons i don't want to get into, but will be prominent on the actual applications.

what exactly would being a production staff member entail?

we're mainly looking for two things in production staff: a willingness to run replaymod for us and act as cameramen by following contestants around getting footage on the actual recording days, and a willingness to work with us on what's likely to be a fairly intense editing and "scripting" period during and after recording, during which we're going to have to scrub through massive amounts of footage and form it into a coherent narrative. we may, depending on how bad we realize we've bitten off more than we can chew, also end up looking for build team members for the production crew. if these things sound fun to you (they sound fun to me god help me), then go ahead and select this option! just know it's mutually exclusive with playing; no one in the production staff will be considered for the contestants. this includes my friends and myself who've already agreed to help me.

these applications would come out before the casting call, since even before casting call we're going to need to do playtests and dry runs and have things mostly ready. so keep an eye out!

will this be run on your blog?

nope we're going to make a new blog (and youtube channel) (and branding!) for this eventually, just want to interest check before we go through all the branding steps. (also, i've even gotten us a specific gmail for this that we will likely end up using for certain communications.)

for now that's all the FAQ i think that is required. let me know if you have more! and i hope you all are interested in this baby of a project that's taken over my mind for the past few weeks!

#mcyt #mcytblr #dsmp #hermitcraft #qsmp #lifesteal #trafficblr #to list some fandoms i think may be interested!#also please reblog this i want a reasonable sample of who is and isn't interested #and FEEL FREE TO ASK QUESTIONS EVEN WITHOUT VOTING #i have put way too much thought into this and would LOVE to answer #listen i am SO HYPED FOR THIS i just want to make sure we'd have enough people to pull it off before investing more energy lol

597 notes · View notes

shadowdaddies · 10 months ago

Text

Pas de Deux

Azriel x Reader

Summary: As the principal ballerina at Starlight Ballet Theatre, you never expected to enter into a romantic relationship with the Spymaster of the Night Court, or how it would change your life.

Word Count: 2.6k

Based on this ask. 🩶

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of blood

You hissed at the pain of peeling off your pointe shoes, feet bloodied and aching from tonight’s performance. The holiday season leading up to Solstice was always a popular time for the people of Velaris to visit the ballet. As principal dancer of the Starlight Ballet Theatre, you’d been dancing two shows a day during this season, your aching muscles protesting your every step as you bid everyone a good night.

Shoving through the back door, you stumbled into the snowy street. The icy cold against your sore feet sent a jolt of pain through your body, and you stumbled, slipping along the icy cobblestone street. Your feet flew in the air, your back headed for the pavement when strong, warm arms caught you.

You huffed a nervous breath, trying to register what had just happened when you looked up to see the most beautiful male you had ever seen. Hazel eyes focused on you in concern, onyx waves of hair falling in the winged male’s face as he held you.

You blushed under his intense gaze, interrupting the trance the both of you seemed to be in in that moment. Clearing his throat, the male returned your blush as he set you back on your feet.

“Thank you, for that,” you laughed nervously, glancing up through your lashes at the intimidating male before you, his kind eyes at contrast with his guarded demeanor, the dark shadows that seemed to follow him. With a startling realization, you recognized him as the Spymaster of the Night Court.

He cracked a small smile, nodding in acknowledgment. “My name is Azriel. You were wonderful tonight,” he admitted, the blush deepening on his cheeks as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

“You watched the show?” you asked, surprised that the famed shadowsinger would visit the ballet.

A small laugh left his lips, a sound more beautiful than any music you had danced to in your life. “I did. I quite enjoy the symphony and the ballet as well.”

Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his words, the thought of commanding Azriel’s attention like this. The thought was apparently too distracting, a gasp escaping you as your feet slipped on the ice once more. Azriel’s arm wrapped comfortably around your waist, holding you up as you regained your footing. Only this time, he didn’t let go.

You allowed Azriel to walk you home, falling into easy conversation as you found his company to be that of a soft breeze, calm and refreshing.

Months passed as you got to know Azriel better, growing more attached and drawn to his presence every day. You enjoyed the excitement and stories he brought from his role as Spymaster, and he enjoyed your calm, relaxed personality, which always brought him peace after a trying day. You looked forward to seeing his face in the crowd at your shows, those hazel eyes keeping you grounded and secure.

Today was the weekend matinee for the Spring show, and you inhaled a shaky breath - your nerves growing as the time until curtain call shrank. Peering around the curtain, you looked to Azriel’s regular seat towards the front in search of his comforting presence, but your eyes locked with a different pair that made your heartbeat stutter.

The violet eyes of High Lord of the Night Court met yours, Rhysand lounged comfortably in his seat next to a tense looking Azriel. Your High Lord gave you a small, encouraging nod that soothed your nerves slightly. With a curtsy, you hid back behind the curtains, wondering what this could mean.

Azriel was yet to introduce you to his family, and now was one Hel of a time to do so. The orchestra struck up their tune, drawing you from your spiraling thoughts as they signaled the beginning of the show.

As the show came to a close, you mentally thanked the Mother that you miraculously made it through the performance without a mistake. What was Azriel thinking, bringing Rhysand here without a warning?

Gritting your teeth as you bandaged your hurting feet, you shrugged on pants and scowled as you stormed out the side door with a huff. Two faces greeted you, once with an amused smile and glittering violet eyes, the other grinding his jaw as Azriel glanced between you and Rhysand, anger and shame written on his face.

“It’s wonderful to finally meet you,” Rhysand purred, pressing a kiss to your knuckles as he watched you with a feline grin. “Azriel said that we are going for dinner now?”

A low growl sounded in Azriel’s throat, the spymaster practically shaking in anger, fists clenched at his sides. “I said that we,” he paused, gesturing between you and himself, “were going to dinner, Rhys.”

Rhys seemed completely unbothered by Azriel’s ire, shrugging as he picked a piece of lint from his jacket. “Well, Azriel, as you know, I have important matters to discuss with your lovely lady here.”

Your eyes widened in shock, swallowing as you turned to Azriel. He simply sighed in defeat, sending you an apologetic look. “I am sorry that I didn’t have the opportunity to tell you earlier. Rhys has something to ask of you. But you can say no.” Azriel ground out the last words with a near-threatening tone, looking at Rhys as he spoke them.

Again, Rhys maintained his casual composure as he led you into a small restaurant. The space might have felt cozy, with its small interior and green and gold decoration, but as you looked around to find yourselves the only ones inside, worry twisted in your stomach.

Rhys looked over your shoulder, flashing an impossibly charming smile at the female behind you. “Hello, Sevenda. Thank you again for allowing us to dine here this evening.”

The woman blushed slightly, nodding as she sang her praises to the High Lord, how grateful she was for the honor to serve him. Plates of food were brought out for all of you, the inviting smell at odds with the unease in your stomach.

Azriel’s hand reached for yours under the table, giving a reassuring squeeze before his focus turned to Rhysand. “Alright Rhys, get on with it. Tell her what you want from her, and we’ll be on our way.”

Rhys breathed out a low chuckle, his posture as casual as ever while he scooped generous helpings of food onto his plate, and yours. He leaned back in his seat, swirling a goblet of wine in his hand, studying you for a brief moment.

“The Night Court would like your assistance with an upcoming meeting of the High Lords,” he drawled, carefully watching your reaction. You were frozen in your chair, mind reeling with the possibilities of what place you would have in a High Lords’ meeting.

Rhys continued, setting down his drink as his tone shifted to one more serious. “I will leave it to Azriel’s discretion to fill you in on any details that I decide to leave out of my proposition, but I would like to use your extraordinary talent. You are, arguably, the most talented dancer in Prythian, and I need someone to provide a... distraction, at a gathering soon in the Day Court.”

You nodded, willing your heart to calm as you tried to focus on Rhysand’s words. “A distraction?” you repeated.

The High Lord nodded, taking a sip of his wine. He set it down, swirling his finger along the edge of the glass as he continued. “If you would agree to be the evening’s entertainment for a night, I believe that your talent would captivate our guests while we attend to... other responsibilities.”

That didn’t sound terrible. It would be considered an honor by many to be able to perform for all the High Lords and Ladies, but the unusual request still made you uncertain.

You swirled your own wine glass by the stem, making a show of contemplating his proposal. “And why me? Surely, there are many other possible entertainers, or forms of distraction,” you mused.

Rhys gave you a conspiratorial smirk, eyes shining with approval at your questioning. Leaning back in his seat, the male crossed his arms as he nodded to the Spymaster next to you. “Simple. Azriel trusts you. I have seen your skill, how captivating you can be, and that appeals to the person we need to distract. You are the best option for us to accomplish our goal without rousing suspicion. And you are one of very few whom my spymaster trusts.”

Azriel’s shadows swirled protectively around you, the tension visible in his shoulders as the male merely nodded. Turning to you, Azriel held your hand tightly in his. “Please do not feel pressured at all. You do not need to do anything that you do not want to.”

Azriel’s words and the tenderness with which he spoke them were all you needed to hear. Turning to Rhys, you gave a firm nod. “I’m in.”

Two days later, you found yourself in a private room at the Day Court Palace, slipping on your shoes as Azriel paced anxiously by the door.

“Beron will be seated front and center during your performance. The Autumn Court has an affinity for dance, so he should be especially interested in you.” Azriel practically growled those last words, his temper rising at the mere mention of the High Lord of Autumn.

Hazel eyes turned towards you, long legs striding towards where you sat on the floor. Azriel crouched down, a scarred hand brushing the side of your cheek, his soft touch at odds with the visible tension he carried. “You just need to distract Beron long enough for Eris to leave the room unnoticed so that he can meet Cassian for the exchange.”

You nodded, giving Azriel an encouraging smile as he helped you to your feet. “I will never let anyone harm you,” he swore, his voice sharp enough that he might as well have carved the promise in stone.

You leaned up, kissing him softly as you swore, “I’ll be fine.” A knock sounded on the door, interrupting the moment as Rhysand and Feyre passed through the threshold.

“Are you ready?” Rhys asked, the pure authority in his tone as he addressed you so different from how he’d been the night you met. Smoothing your skirts, you gestured for him to lead the way.

The setup was simple, but the semicircle of chairs in which the High Lords and Ladies were seated so close to you had your heart pumping. Taking your spot on the dance floor in front of them, you gave Beron a shy, alluring smile as you curtsied.

The orchestra began to play, and your body moved effortlessly to the music. Soft wisps of air twirled with you, giving you comfort that Azriel was close by and watching. Your flowing layers of skirts twirled through the air, flaring out like blooming flower petals as you glowed underneath the faelights.

The entire room was enraptured by your grace, the siren call of your dance. The musical crescendo built, and with it so did your movements, tears building in the eyes of many in the room as you embodied the emotions of the music through movement.

You had not even noticed Eris’s departure, a realization that brought a slight smile to your face as the plan seemed to be working. Then the violinist struck a wrong chord, the musicians suddenly in disarray as the melody was lost to the wind.

You continued to push through, dancing in the silence, but as the audience turned to see what was amiss in the orchestra, the air quickly grew thick with tension. Before you could blink, fire encased your ankles, your wrists, your neck, restraining you in place on the floor.

Beron appeared in front of you, a curious look on his face, as the fire grew hotter around your neck. “Would you happen to know where my son is, Little Diversion?”

Tears stung your eyes at the burn only for a moment before a blast of blue light knocked Beron halfway across the room.

“Do not touch my mate,” Azriel growled, siphons glowing as he stalked towards the High Lord. You hardly had time to register Az’s words before an Autumn Court guard stepped out from the side, drawing his sword as it cut through the air towards Azriel.

Finding the slit in your skirt, you drew a throwing knife, piercing directly through the center of the male’s wrist. He dropped his sword with a hiss, the male crumbling to the ground as Azriel turned. The Illyrian’s mouth was ajar as he watched you remove another knife from your thigh holster, flicking it into the throat of another approaching guard.

Hysteria broke out, High Lords and Ladies fighting alongside their allies, Prythian’s political leaders at each others’ throats in front of your eyes. You picked up the sword from the male you’d cut down, standing back to back with Azriel as you battled off the remaining attackers.

As you tried to catch your breath, strong hands spun you around, Azriel’s eyes intense as they searched your blood-stained outfit for any signs of damage. You let the sword drop to the ground - blood splattering as it clinked against the cold floor - and wrapped your arms around Azriel as you pulled him in for a kiss.

He held you there, arms wound tightly around you as Azriel rested his forehead against yours. “When did you learn to fight like that?” he breathed.

Laughing softly against his lips, you gave him an incredulous look. “You think I could spend my life with a Spymaster without learning how to defend myself?”

Azriel gasped at your words, drawing back as his brow narrowed in confusion. “You knew we were mates?”

You shook your head, the peacefulness you felt at odds with the chaos surrounding you. “I didn’t have to know that we were mates, to know that I am yours. Always.”

Azriel’s eyes lined with tears, your mate pulling you in for another heated kiss when the sound of a throat clearing beside you interrupted the moment.

Rhysand stood there with Helion, the two High Lords of Day and Night exuding an intimidating amount of power before you.

“Beron did initiate an attack during an agreed time of peace by his interruption during this meeting, so he will be dealt with accordingly,” Helion announced, granting Azriel a small, reassuring nod.

“Cassian confirmed the missive exchange went smoothly,” Rhys paused, looking around the wreckage of the room. “Well, it went smoothly on their end.” Violet eyes flicked to you, approval and kindness clear within them. Rhys took Feyre’s hand, his other coming to lightly clap your shoulder as he leaned in to whisper, “good night, sister.”

You blushed, bidding Rhys and Feyre good night before turning back to Helion and Azriel. Helion took your hand in his, pressing a lingering kiss to your knuckles, his eyes sparkling. “Azriel knows where my room is, if the two of you find yourselves in need... of anything,” he purred with a wink before striding through the doors.

Azriel groaned, pulling you into his chest. Laying your head there, you allowed yourself to savor his warmth for a moment before taking his hand in yours. With a sly smile, you guided Az out the door. Gesturing to your soiled attire, you winked at Azriel. “I think I could use a bath, if you care to join me, mate.”

In a blink, Azriel had scooped you up bridal style, peppering kisses to your face while he raced to the bath. You laughed, clinging tightly to him as you looked forward to your life with the Spymaster.

905 notes · View notes

hel-looks · 6 months ago

Photo

Juho, 20

“I’m wearing thrifted leather jacket, zip-up turtleneck and a Peak Performance bag. Shoes are from Rick Owens and the jeans are from NoFaith Studios. I take influences from many sub-cultures in an attempt to create my own style.”

3 February 2024, Fredrikinkatu

#hel looks #helsinki #style #vintage #clothes #vintage clothing #fashion

216 notes · View notes

silverskye13 · 14 days ago

Text

"There you are, Demon."

Evil X's voice came from everywhere and nowhere, a deep, resonant sound with a mechanical edge. The Demon, standing in his Colosseum box overlooking the sand, startled. His long, dragon-like elytra wings, repaired after his skirmish with Helsknight, shuddered briefly. The Demon forced a smile and uncrossed his arms from behind his back, trying to hide the sting to his pride at being snuck up on. He turned away from the window, searching the empty room for the voice's source. The shadows moved, light bending, and Evil X stepped into sight like the slow render of a distant horizon; all haze and shape and then sudden definition.

"You're playing a dangerous game." The robotic sovereign and admin of hels tilted his head slightly in a look of amusement, the movement punctuated by the wur and click of half a dozen mechanical parts. "Aren't you?"

Evil X was unassuming, as far as evils went. He was shorter than his brother, Evil Beezuma, which made him shorter than the Demon. Where Evil Beezuma was long and thin and axe-sharp, Evil X was broad and solid and square. Human sized, human shaped, but in the uncanny way of one who has sculpted himself to be perfectly so, piece by piece, as though he had to carefully study humanity in all its forms to settle on something that would pass. On first glance, he seemed so terribly normal it was almost inconvenient -- an easily dismissible mundanity. On second glance, once you noticed the intentionality of his design, he implied power so profound, and actions so calculated, it bordered on the god-like.

∆ The Demon couldn't help but be envious, any more than a moth could help its desire for light and heat. ∆

The Demon bowed low, tail curling nimbly around his ankles, an attempt to appear humble. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Majesty?"

"Amusement," Evil X answered simply, ignoring the formality. He hummed tunelessly as he moved to join the Demon by the window. "Curiosity."

Evil X peered down at the sand far below them, the ruby light from his pixelated screen of a mask aligning itself into a bored expression. He braced his hands on the windowsill, the thick, knobbled joints deceptively dextrous as they curled around the edge. All the mechanical pieces that made up Evil X's robotic body were brutal in their display, unyielding and utilitarian. It was the kind of grim mechanics the Demon might expect to see in a factory; dark oil, black hinges and unyielding jaws. There was a heft to Evil X's movements that implied wrought iron and tempered steel, where Evil Beezuma was a creature of lighter metals -- aluminums and titaniums. Still heavy, but in comparison to the sovereign of hels, he was all bird bones.

∆ The Demon could imagine every hinge and servo in Evil X's powerful grip locking around someone's hand and crushing it with simple ease, the same way he might crush an eggshell in his fist. ∆

"You've upset my brother," Evil X said, not looking up at the Demon. There were fighters on the sand far below -- not a Colosseum Match, though the date for the next one was swiftly approaching. They were training, getting ready. The Demon had taken to watching, revelling in the performative struggles in the sand, knowing they were there because of him. "He thinks you've rigged the next match."

"I'm sorry he thinks so," the Demon said, his voice a cautious smile, obeisant. He needed to feel this conversation out, dance with the danger of it, to determine his odds. There was a thrill of fear and adrenaline in his chest, as intense as the pressure in the End. "I was merely trying to craft a compelling show."

"No you weren't," Evil X said flatly, his tone bored. "How many sponsors and show writers did you have to bribe to force the Champion into such a disadvantage?"

The Demon wisely kept his mouth shut, choosing instead to mirror Evil X's bored glare down at the sand. There was a flicker of red in the corner of the Demon's eye, the glimmer of reflected light on the glass as Evil X glanced in his direction.

"No, you would never stoop to bribery," Evil X hummed, as though agreeing with some unspoken statement. It made the Demon's skin crawl, a feeling like his thoughts were being plucked from his head. "Not when so many people owe you favors. Did you cash in terribly many? Seems a bit moot, given it should have only taken one."

The Demon snapped his gaze down to Evil X then, scrutinizing him with narrowed eyes. He said with forced civility, "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, sir."

"I've been downgraded to sir?" Evil X grinned, turning so his back was pressed against the glass, his arms crossed over his chest. "I liked Majesty better, I think."

The Demon smiled graciously -- and only in doing so realized he'd stopped smiling in the first place. He bowed stiffly, "My apologies, Majesty."

"Helsknight owes you a favor," Evil X said, smoothly ignoring both the bow and the title.

∆ A thorn of hurt pride stabbed itself deeper into the Demon's side. ∆

"Couldn't you have simply asked him to throw the match?" Evil X looked down as if to inspect his fingernails. He fidgeted with something on his wrist, tightening some gear with an audible click! "It would certainly be more direct than... whatever this mess is. I suppose you might be excited to show off just how much of hels is in the palm of your hand."

There was another audible click, and the mechanical hand snapped open. Firing redstone glimmered from seams in the plates of his arm, traveling up to the elbow in a series of popping noises. The Demon wrinkled his nose at the sudden biting smell of redstone. It took him a moment to realize Evil X expected an answer.

"The, ahm direct approach wouldn't work," the Demon said at length, crossing his arms behind his back again. "Helsknight isn't what I'm after."

"An example, then?"

"Not exactly."

"Cryptic."

"I feel its in my best interest."

Evil X opened and closed his hand, flexing joints that were suddenly much stiffer than they had been before... whatever he'd done. The fingers opened and closed in stiff, jerking motions -- something that reminded the Demon somewhat squeamishly of a vice. The image of crushing eggshells came back to the forefront of his mind, unbidden.

"Oh relax, Demon. I'm not here to punish you," Evil X chuckled, a deep, resonant sound like the clatter of metal. "I'm simply admiring your work."

"My work?" The Demon asked cautiously.

"I used to love playing these games," Evil X sighed wistfully, turning again so he faced the glass. He straightened each individual digit on his hand, those harsh, snapping motions looking almost painful. "It's... Difficult showing people you mean business when death has so little sting."

Evil X rested a fingertip against the glass, as if he meant to scrub away some imperfection there. The glass wasn't completely clear -- it was very subtly tinted yellow, a color the Demon had chosen intentionally. He had always loved motifs of gold and glamor. It was one of the few things about his Hermit he allowed himself to keep.

"The Universe is cruel," Evil X monologued, his gaze focused on the point where his finger met the glass. "But eight, nine times out of ten, we still respawn as if it weren't. Hels is scarce, but not so scarce that losing something means it's impossible to replace. At least, not for people like you and Helsknight, who have wealth and power, and a healthy amount of fear ascribed to your names."

∆ The Demon found it interesting that Evil X didn't include himself in that statement -- did he not consider himself as someone with wealth, power and fear? Perhaps he did, and was simply aware he was far out of anyone else's league. ∆

"So then, how do you truly threaten someone, when the world is so forgiving?" Evil X asked the glass, gaze still intent on that point his finger rested against. "The direct approach has its merits -- death and maiming are always unpleasant. And even though the body returns whole, the mind takes time to recover."

Unease tiptoed along the Demon's spine. A noise made it to him, a quiet groan of stress, oddly sharp, something straining in its casing. The bite of redstone stung the Demon's nose again.

"Sir?"

"But you're clever. The direct approach is too straightforward and barbaric for people like you. So, you build a web."

The glass fractured, suddenly and without warning. Webbed lines spidered out from Evil X's fingertip, focused on the point of contact. It startled the Demon back a step, half-expecting Evil X's hand to crash the rest of the way through, but it didn't. The fracture stopped after the initial break, four odd nearly-concentric circles streaked by smaller perpendicular breaks, very much like a spider's web. Evil X laughed, quick and sharp, almost surprised.

"I got bored of the web making ages ago, and even if I hadn't, I promised my brother I wouldn't meddle in his business. But I do admire good craftsmanship when I see it." There was a click! somewhere in the mechanical pieces in Evil X's wrist as he pressed harder against the fracture he made. The glass broke further, more cracks spiraling out from the source; a larger web. "I was once quite good at it -- building them, and reading the lines. Care to let me guess at yours, Demon?"

He tilted his head in the Demon's direction, the red light from his eyes reflecting in a dozen different facets of cracked glass. The Demon clenched his fists at his sides, and it was an act of will not to take another wary step back.

"The knight is a sacrifice," Evil X hummed, another crack shooting out from his fingertip to spiral across the golden glass. "It's what they're made for, really. I don't play chess -- do you? I know the knight is a deceptively mobile piece, and a crowd favorite, for how pretty it is, but it's movements are complicated and, all bound up with invisible rules. It will never be the most important piece on the board, but it will content itself with being useful. I'm sure he'll be flattered when he figures out he's a means to an end. Knights like that kind of thing."

Another crack, this one spearing sharply to the far edge of the window pane. The whole window shuddered with its violence.

The Demon lurched forward, all previous attempts to appear calm and unbothered forgotten. He almost grabbed Evil X's shoulder to pull him away -- almost. The heat stopped him. Evil X's machinery, either by convention or design, radiated heat like a burning brand. The sudden fear that touching the metal would scald him drew his hand up short.

"Stop that," the Demon hissed, glaring up at the shattering window, so he wouldn't have to witness Evil X's smirk.

"Stop what? This?" Evil X chuckled, another long crack shattering out to touch the top of the window.

"Yes, that!"

"Why?"

"Because it's--"

"--yours?"

Evil X laughed again, and much to the Demon's relief, he removed his hand from the glass. Evil X bared his wrist, fiddling with whatever knob or screw he'd tightened earlier. One by one, the robotic fingers relaxed again, moving much more like a hand was expected to. Evil X clenched and unclenched his fist experimentally.

"The little thief that's found itself in Helsknight's shadow. That's what you're after," Evil X hummed. "I admit, I only know he exists because I know what my brother knows. I assume he stole something from you?"

"What's it to you?" The Demon growled, his wings ruffling uncomfortably.

"Like I said, I admire your craftsmanship." Evil X reached forward and flicked the broken window with a metal finger. The weakened glass shuddered, one jagged shard popping free of the network of webbed cracks. Evil X caught it deftly. "I got bored of this kind of cloak-and-dagger thing ages ago, but I do still understand the allure."

On the words "cloak-and-dagger", Evil X rolled the glass over his knuckles, the jagged shard flickering in the low light in a way that reminded the Demon of the flash of a drawn blade.

"If you're so... Bored by this nonsense," the Demon gestured to the broken glass, "then why--?"

"This isn't web-weaving," Evil X chuckled. "I prefer the direct approach."

The Demon narrowed his eyes. "Then, directly, tell me why you're here."

∆ He did not say "Your Majesty." He thought if he demeaned himself to Evil X again, he might tempt himself to violence, and Evil X was the sovereign of hels, and there were some fights the Demon knew he could not win. ∆

Evil X smirked. It was in the way the red lights of his eyes narrowed, and the way he dipped his head, amused.

"You have a blind spot, Demon," Evil X said. "This web you're weaving -- you've forgotten something very important."

Nervousness thrilled its way down the Demon's spine again.

"What am I missing?"

"Now, where would all the fun for me be, if I told you all the answers?"

The Demon snorted and crossed his arms. He considered, briefly, making himself look bigger. More intimidating. He didn't think it would work, but it would make him feel better at least. Less bullied.

"You are doing a lot of meddling in the Colosseum," Evil X said, tapping the glass again. The window shook, but no other jagged pieces fell free. One of the cracks widened threateningly. "Walking around like you own the place, leaving messes everywhere."

The Demon bared his teeth in his closest approximation of a smile, "I'm well aware the Colosseum isn't mine. It belongs to you, of course."

Evil X laughed, sharp and biting and scornful. "You're sorely mistaken, Demon. I wouldn't dream of calling the Colosseum mine."

"You're worried the knight will take offense to my meddling?" The Demon huffed. "By my reckoning, he's too busy with his own shortsightedness to bother--"

"Gods above and below," Evil X sighed. He leaned in close to the window, blazing the shattered lines in bloody hues. The Demon watched him warily, and then stepped forward to look down at the sand. Far, far below them, the fighters still trained. One in particular meandered among them, offering advice and correcting form.

"Beware, Demon, as you weave your web." Evil X hummed, his voice so low, so close to the glass, it nearly seemed to shake the shattered panes. "Some wasps eat spiders."

"Your brother?" The Demon said, trying to keep his skepticism from his voice.

"My brother," Evil X agreed, flickering that broken glass over his knuckles again in a flourish, "is quite protective of his Colosseum. And as I said, Demon, I have promised not to meddle in his affairs."

"Aren't you meddling now?"

"No, this is a warning, from someone who appreciates the craftsmanship in a well-spun web." Their gazes met, Evil X radiating heat and smoke like breath. "If he does something to you Demon, I won't intervene. He's the nice one -- but he still has Evil in his name, doesn't he?"

Evil X smiled. He reached out gently to pluck a small piece of glass from where it had fallen on the Demon's shoulder, so small it looked like glitter. The Demon had to force himself not to recoil from the touch, from the scald of hot metal so intense it had its own smell; flint and oil and redstone.

Evil X flicked the piece of glass away, the smooth mask of boredom slipping back over his mechanical features, "I'll be interested to see what you choose to do, in any case. Gods know it gets boring enough in hels. Too many rats, not enough races."

"Then change it," the Demon snapped, his pride and temper bristling in tandem. The implication that he was just one more game for a bored god stung.

∆ He was quite sure it was meant to sting. ∆

"No, I don't think I will." Evil X shrugged, sauntering towards the door that led from the Demon's box to the long hall beyond. "I'm quite content watching events unfold as they want."

He opened the door and grinned back at the Demon, "Once you get so good at these games, they stop being fun. Entertain me though, and I might make you my protege."

"I don't need your patronage," the Demon hissed.

"Sure you don't," Evil X chuckled. He flicked his hand, that shard of glass he'd taken flickering through the room like a knifepoint. It hit the cracked pane of glass, and with a shriek, it shattered. The Demon sprang back from the waterfall of sharpened points, watching the golden cascade tumble across the floor. One of the pieces cut him, but he only knew it by the itching trickle of blood that ran down his arm long minutes later.

"That was unnecessary," EB groused that evening, when Evil X descended the long stairs to his cell. "I don't need you sticking up for me. I don't want you sticking up for me."

"Sticking up for you?" Evil X laughed. "Darling baby brother, I don't stick up for anybody."

He ducked the swat EB aimed in his direction. EB didn't try to hit him again -- yet.

"I was just making sure I still leave an impression." Evil X grinned. "And I still got it. You can bill me for the glass, if you like."

"I will." EB snapped a hand forward, and Evil X let himself be caught. "Stop breaking my Colosseum, X." EB towered, and shoved, and Evil X felt the wall divot behind him from the strength of the push. "You can break everything else in hels, playing around, but this is--"

"Yes yes, it's yours," Evil X conceded, prying EB's hand off his chest. "Lighten up, you're supposed to be the nice one."

EB looked away from him, buzzing a long, unintelligible stream of noise.

"Language."

"You were meddling."

"If I were meddling, there would have been TNT involved." Evil X sobered just a bit. "And I wouldn't be telling you."

"He's impulsive, EX," EB sighed, running a hand down his face. "He's impulsive, and you threatened him."

"And I can't wait to see what he does," Evil X chuckled, rubbing his hands together conspiratorially. "Impulsive people make truly spectacular decisions when they're threatened."

"Not in my Colosseum!"

"And if he does?" Evil X grinned. "I can't wait to see what you do either." He rapped a knuckle against EB's chest, and chuckled at the resonance. "Live up to your name for once. You make me look soft."

He ducked another of EB's swats, cackling, and vanished. It took long minutes for the lights in the room to bleed away the red tinge that seemed to follow in Evil X's wake.

"I liked you better when you were busy with Hermitcraft," EB grumbled to the empty room. "You're a terror when you're bored."

#rns ficlets #redstone and skulk #evil x #evil beezuma #evil xisuma #the demon #hels!impulse #i should be doing literally anything besides this

115 notes · View notes

nightingalescall · 7 months ago

Text

Prelude to Pandemonium

Kingdom of Ebreau:

prologue|part 1|part 2(you are here)

"I can't breathe, Zephyr..."

You panted as you posed for the ending, your legs trembling beneath you from the exhaustion and the lack of oxygen. You've been repeating this sequence for the past several days but it just doesn't get easier, not with your access to air hindered.

Zephyr sighed, his eyes closed. "I'm sorry, Lady (y/n) but this is standard protocol." You went back to standing normally as you lifted up your veil, revealing your sweat-filled face.

"How... How did you do this without fainting?" You expressed your confusion and astonishment at Zephyr as you tried to catch your breath. Zephyr walked closer, his hand holding a towel before using it to wipe your sweat away. "I struggled just as much as you did, Lady (y/n). In fact, you're doing much better than I did in the past." He smiled reassuringly.

"You're not saying that just to comfort me, are you?" You questioned skeptically as you took the glass of water he handed you before taking a sip. "It's the truth." Zephyr reassured, patting your head.

You nodded and handed him back the glass, believing him. "It's just...So hard to breathe with this on and dance at the same time." You complained under your breath. Zephyr reached towards your hair and took off the veil. He fiddled with the fabric in his hands, appearing to be thinking.

"...I'll get someone to make some last minutes modifications." He finally said after some silence. "Is there enough time? The ceremony is tomorrow night." You knitted your eyebrows together, unsure about his suggestion.

Tomorrow night, you will meet with the Royal family of Ebreau for the first time. From what Zephyr told you, you will be given a ceremony similar to the ones they hold for the initiation of newly appointed saints to celebrate your arrival in Ebreau. At the same time, it will serve as your debut to the public eyes. During the ceremony, the Royal family will give you their blessings as a welcoming to the kingdom. Then, they will impart to you their hopes for further collaborations. In response, instead of words, you will perform the Dance of Resonare Auream to answer their call.

According to Zephyr, the Dance of Resonare Auream replicates the movements of high priests from ancient times when they performed rituals to initiate a connection with Calerus in order to seek answers from him. Their movements during these rituals were modified and implemented into this dance. The Dance of Resonare Auream is only performed by saints during their ceremonies as a way to pledge allegiance to the Royal family and symbolises a saint's role as a bridge between the divine and the mortal world.

Being the saint of the temple of Sonnet, it comes without saying that Zephyr also performed this dance at his initiation years ago. Although there are some differences between the male and female counterparts, it's still mostly the same so Zephyr became your temporary mentor and guided you though the dancesteps. The dance wasn't hard in terms of its steps, simple but still elegant and graceful. The difficulty came from the odd tempo of the dance music. It would pick up and slow down suddenly at times, not to mention there are pauses in the music which needed you to count the tempo so you wouldn't come in late or early.

The added on challenge of having to do all that with a veil on was not fun, to say the least. All you've been doing the past week or so was trying to perfect these steps and making sure you were on beat while also ensuring you don't faint during the dance. The ceremony tomorrow night was opened to all citizens to attend. Thousands of eyes will be on you then and you don't intend on making a fool of yourself. What would the people think of their Messiah if you did?

The pressure was on. You needed to do well.

You sighed internally.

If only the veil wasn't part of the standard ceremonial uniform... It'll be one less thing to worry about without it.

Zephyr held up the veil between both of you, drawing your attention back to him and temporarily obscuring your view of his face "For you, Lady (y/n)," he started, a playful tone in his voice.

"Nothing is impossible." He lowered the veil, revealing his wide smile. You felt yourself tense up at his expression and you questioned your own body's reaction. You don't understand why but you suddenly feel uneasy and on edge. Something felt off about Zephyr. His tone was warm and his body language seemed relaxed but his smile looked...Sinister.

However, as quickly as that foreboding smile appeared, it disappeared just as fast from Zephyr's face. "Don't worry. I'll handle it." A warm smile graced his lips once more as he wiped a few stray beads of sweat from your cheek. "You should go back and rest now, Lady (y/n). It'll a tiring day for you tomorrow. Come." He took your hand and led you out of the practice hall, your veil grasped firmly in his other. You followed his lead and came to the entrance door to the hall.

Just as Zephyr's hand touched the wooden door handle, a knock came from behind it and the door opened inwards, nearly hitting Zephyr in the face. "Saint Zephyr." A dainty nun stepped into the hall as she called out, her voice soft and low. Her gaze flickered to you. "A-and the Messiah." She stuttered before bowing hastily to you.

"Yes, Sister Darlene?" Zephyr nodded at her greeting. You've met Sister Darlene a few times before when she needed Zephyr's opinion on some church related matters. From your memory, she was a shy and timid young nun, prone to stuttering and fumbling over her words. Though, you heard she has a knack for singing. Maybe you could befriend her. It'd be nice to have someone other than Zephyr to talk to. (Not that he wasn't good company or anything but some diversity is always good...right?)

"I-it's about tomorrow's transportation" Darlene fidgeted in place. Zephyr nodded, prodding her to continue as he fondled with your veil in his hand.. "S-shall we use the opened air carriage or the closed one?" Darlene asked, stealing a few short glances at you. Zephyr, however, seemed to be a bit preoccupied as he kept his gaze down while feeling out the veil. He roughly measured it using his hands as he replied nonchalantly. "The closed one."

Darlene nodded. "Then, s-shall I also inform the Ordo Concordiae? S-so they can post g-guards along our route?" You perked up at that mention. That's a name you haven't heard in a while. The Ordo Concordiae or the Order of Harmony was the name of the guards you worked for before becoming saint. it's been a while since you heard from them. Would they be present for tomorrow's ceremony too? Do...do they remember you?

Zephyr held up the veil before putting it on you once more. He adjusted it and you guessed he was taking some mental notes about the length of the veil in order to make modifications from the way he tilted your head side to side as he observed. "No need. The Royal guards will be on duty along the route tomorrow." He replied, not looking at Darlene.

You complied with Zephyr, letting him move your head around freely with the veil over your face. Through your obstructed view, you saw Darlene straightened her back before replying. "I see. I will go do the necessary arrangement then. Excuse me then, Saint Zephyr, Messiah." Darlene said as she bowed her head. You felt surprised. That was the first time you've heard Darlene speak so confidently and clearly.

Was she that eager to leave?

You held back a chuckle at the thought. Maybe you should find the time to get to know her.

"Of course, Sister Darlene." With that, she left the two of you alone. Zephyr was quiet as he looked at you. Despite the veil, he still seemed to be looking at you directly in the eyes.

"..."

After some silence, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. Well, the part of the veil that covered your forehead. "Alright, let's get you back to your room now, Lady (y/n)." He pulled back and held your hand, leading you out of the hall and down the corridors of the temple.

You walked beside him as you reached up to take off the veil he forgot to remove from you. The moment your hand touched the fabric, Zephyr's hand shot up and grabbed yours, forcing it to a stop. You tilted you head in confusion.

Zephyr stopped in his steps and turned towards you, now holding both your hands in his. "In the case that I don't manage to get the necessary modifications done in time, you will still need to use this one at the ceremony, Lady (y/n)." He said as he readjusted the veil, making sure it was securely placed on your head. "Thus, i suggest you to always keep it on before your dance comes to pass. Let your body adjust to it so it won't strain you as much." He advised.

"Oh...I see." You didn't want to wear this annoying headpiece wherever you went but he made a good point. Reluctantly, you agreed. "Alright." You sighed, feeling defeated. "Good." Zephyr patted your head before continuing to lead the way.

You arrived in front of your room shortly after and Zephyr bid you farewell as you entered. The setting sun could be seen outside the window in your room. Its glow painting your room in a soft orange hue. You sighed as you walked over to your bed before limply flopping onto it. You buried your face in the sheets, smelling the light flora scent of the soap they used for cleaning emanating from it.

"..."

You did nothing as you laid on your stomach on the bed, basking in the silence. Your mind raced, thinking about tomorrow night. Two years ago, when you first arrived in Ebreau, you'd never thought you'd ever have the need to meet with the Royal family but now, not only was your presence going to be tomorrow night's highlight, you were going to perform for them too!

You groaned loudly into the sheets. The stress was getting to you. "Being Messiah is so difficult..." You mumbled, rubbing your face against the sheets as you coped with your anxiety.

However, the rough fabric of the veil prevented you from doing that too. You felt the sandy texture rubbed uncomfortably against your cheeks and nose. You huffed angrily as you reached up and yanked the veil off you. Throwing the golden headpiece onto the floor, you stuffed your face back into the sheets, actually feeling the softness of it this time.

The whole ordeal of shouldering the future of Ebreau as Messiah paired with the events of tomorrow night already gave you a big headache. You didn't need the extra challenge of wearing something so incredibly inconvenient!

Who came up with the idea of dancing with a veil on?!

"Stupid protocol making me dance like a monkey in a veil..." You clicked your tongue and complained. "How am I going to do this..." You sighed into the bed.

Your whole experience made you realised just how hard it was to be in a high position like this. How did Zephyr survive so many years being saint? It's only been a month since you became Messiah and you felt like you were going to break apart already.

You flipped over on the bed, facing the ceiling. "Calm down." You whispered to yourself, lightly slapping yourself on both cheeks to make yourself snap out of it. Complaining and stressing over it like this wasn't going to solve your problems. You just had to take it one step at a time.

Even if these steps were big strides.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself rest.

It'll be fine. You'll do fine.

You reassured yourself.

Zephyr's done it before so it's definitely possible. It has to be.

You thought, convincing yourself that dancing with the veil on won't kill you.

I just have to control my breathing and-“Believe only what thou sees, lamb.”

You sprang up from the bed, frantically looking around your room for the source of the voice. You quickly recomposed yourself once you realised that it was Calerus that just spoke to you.

You furrowed your eyebrows at his words.

What do you mean?

You thought in your mind.

“What goes unseen is but an illusion.”

Calerus' voice rumbled in your head once more. Even with his elaboration, it was still too vague for you to understand. You asked for more but you were met with silence. It seemed Calerus was done talking to you.

Believe in what I see? Is that what he means?

You tried to make sense of the god's words and why he said them but nothing clicked. In the midst of your pondering, a knock came from your bedroom door.

"I've brought your dinner, Lady (y/n)." Zephyr's familiar voice came from outside.

You pushed yourself onto your feet and went to the door, halting your wondering of the deity's warning.

That could wait for now.

It was dinner time.

~✟~

"Pardon?!" You let out as your eyes went wide. You had just woken up and were having a peaceful breakfast when Zephyr just broke the most ground shaking news to you. "We will be leaving for the Royal palace after you finished breakfast and get dressed." Zephyr repeated and you almost choked on your food.

"I thought we were going this afternoon! Isn't the ceremony tonight? Why are leaving now?!" You asked, feeling absolutely distraughted. You thought you still had the entire morning to prepare and calm yourself! That was why you got up so early in the first place!

"The ceremony is tonight, yes," Zephyr scooted his chair closer to you, patting your back as an effort to calm you down. "but you need to be meet with queen and prince so we need to go early before they get busy with welcoming guests." He explained.

"Won't I be meeting them tonight? Why do I need to go see them now?" You asked, perplexed by this turn of events and desperate to find a way to delay this meeting as much as possible. Zephyr looked down at the table, thinking of how to phrase his next sentence to you. "Tonight's ceremony is more of a show to the public than it is an official meeting, Lady (y/n)." You cocked your head to the side. "I don't understand..."

"Take it as the name suggests. A ceremony. All ceremonies are rehearsed beforehand so everyone involved knows what to do when the time comes." Zephyr explained as he ran a hand though your hair. "The real meeting between you and the Royal family is done in private with only you and them present." You felt like you were going to throw up from the stress.

Your plate was still relatively full but you've already lost your appetite after this reveal. You even requested for something nice and fancy to eat this morning to help with the nerves.

Guess it's all going to waste now.

"I..I'm full now." You mumbled and pushed the plate away. You got up from your seat but Zephyr grabbed onto your arm before you could take a step further. "But you've barely eaten anything, Lady (y/n)." He frowned.

"I don't feel like eating anymore." You admitted as you looked down, feeling guilty from wasting perfectly good food. Zephyr sighed as he stood up before taking you into a tight hug.

"You'll do great, Lady (y/n). Believe me." Zephyr whispered into your ear as he squeezed. Your eyes went wide in surprise at his words before slowly softening. You wrapped your arms around him, returning the hug as you buried your face into his chest. The familiar scene of Zephyr's robe wafted into your nose. It smelt of petrichor, calming and refreshing.

"Thank you..." You mumbled, feeling better.

A pair of lips pressed the top of your head as you felt Zephyr leaned down. You sighed softly.

No matter how tough it gets, you know you'll always have Zephyr.

~✟~

The sound of cheering was deafening outside of the carriage. Looking out the carriage window, you saw lines upon lines of people standing beside the road, jumping and waving with big smiles on their faces. You waved back, trying your best to ensure no one is ignores or left out (though it was impossible with the amount of people present).

Horses pulled your carriage along the cobblestone road, their neighs occasionally penetrating the cheers and yells of the crowd, reaching your ears within your ride. Nuns and monks led the procession towards the Royal palace, walking in front while holding various chimes and bells that you've never seen before. The ringing of these instruments accompanied the way as if they were some sort of beat to follow.

Zephyr sat across from you, gazing out the window too with a soft smile on his lips. He stayed silent, letting you take in the adoration the people of Ebreau wanted to show you. His hair was tied up in a ponytail (he did that a lot ever since your accidental compliment on it) and his bangs fluttered gently from the breeze blowing into the carriage.

"Miss Messiah!"

In the midst of the dissonant voices, a certain call, low but clear shot through the air and caught your attention. The familiar pitch urged your curiosity to look for the source. And so you looked. Near the back of the crowd, a man, taller than the rest, stood out as he yelled again with a hand beside his mouth.

"Thank you!"

It was faint but you could make out his words. His structure seemed familiar. Squinting your eyes, you honed in on his face.

It was Mr. Citris!

Grinning, Mr. Citris looked beside him with a finger pointed at you. A person stood at his side, though their smaller frame causes them to be blocked by the people in front, besides from the top of their blond head, you could not see any other features. From your faraway position, you saw Mr. Citris spoke to the person beside him before bending down and picking them up.

A young girl came into view as Mr. Citris held her by her waist and lifted her up in front of him. A bashful flush spread across the young girl's face, seemingly embarrassed by her father's antics. The two exchanged a few more words before the girl eventually turned towards you. She waved with a smile.

The realisation finally dawned on you and you almost slapped yourself for being so slow.

That girl is Mr. Citris' daughter!

The girl's complexion was light but not sickly. Her smile was small yet bright. She looked...Well. Mr. Citris must have use the gold coins to buy the medicine. Even then, the medicine doesn't cure her, only slows down and eases the pain which means...She went out of her way to come see you despite her condition.

A warmth spread through your chest. The thought that you successfully helped someone, even just a little bit, was just the affirmation you needed.

Maybe you weren't hopeless.

You waved back, hoping they would see your reaction and how happy you were that things worked out. You smiled, grinned even.

Ah, wait.

They can't see you smile.

They can't see your face at all.

The veil swayed gently in front of your face following the shaking of the carriage.

The joy you felt a moment ago dissipated as quickly as it arrived. You deflated like a balloon but you waved back nonetheless (albeit somewhat dispiritedly).

Your carriage eventually passed the pair and they disappeared into the crowd. Your vision was once again filled with never-before-seen faces of strangers and your ears flooded with their unfamiliar yells.

Everything had been new to you when you were promoted to Messiah. New lifestyle, new responsibilities, new outlook, the list goes on. For this procession, you had hoped to find some familiarity, some remnant of the past to remind you that you weren't always Messiah, that not long ago you were among these crowds of people.

But looking at the sea of people, you didn't even see any guards in black uniform, guards of the Ordo Concordiae, your colleagues. They were perhaps the closest people you could call family in this place (as messed up as it is considering they basically forced you to work for them) yet you could only see white.

White of the uniforms of the Royal guards.

They stood along the road, ensuring no one cause trouble for the procession towards the palace, holding back any who dared to get too close. You continued to greet the onlookers albeit less enthusiastically.

"...Lady (y/n)."

Your head snapped towards Zephyr after he broke his silence. "Let us talk." You cocked your head to the side, confused by his sudden request. He drew the blinds to the window, isolating the both of you from the outside. “What is it?” You suddenly felt uneasy. Darkness shrouded the carriage but a few rays of light came through the gaps, illuminating Zephyr's face. His face was expressionless and lacking of warmth, unbefitting of his usual demeanour.

“…” He remained quiet and it agitated you further. Zephyr moved from his seat across from you to beside you, facing some difficulty standing up straight due to the low ceiling of the carriage. He shuffled to your side of the carriage and sat down. Your eyes followed him as he turned to you.

“…” He was still silent, his gaze dropping down towards the ground.

Cold sweat was beginning to form on your forehead. Seeing Zephyr so quiet and emotionless was concerning if not alarming. “Zephyr?” You called out, leaning in closer until you came into his peripheral, hoping that would finally catch his attention and prompt him to say what was on his mind.

He finally looked back up before reaching over to you. He grasped onto the hem of your veil and lifted it, revealing your golden eyes to him. “You’re worrying me, Zephyr. What is it?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows. You grabbed onto Zephyr’s hands that were still holding your veil. “Why are you taking it off?” Zephyr simply shook his head and let go but not before making sure it wouldn’t fall back down and cover your face.

“I just…want to see your face, Lady (y/n). Just for a bit.” Zephyr explained, a small smile finally gracing his lips. You frowned, not convinced it was as simple as that. He took a breath before finally speaking. “Lady (y/n), no matter what happens when you meet with the queen and prince later,” He held your hands in his. “Please remember you’re already doing your best."

You blinked. “…What?”

Zephyr pulled you close and embraced you, pressing your head against his chest. He stroked your hair gently. You could hear his heartbeat through his chest, slow and steady. It'd even be calming if it weren't for the current situation. “You don’t have to fix every problem this kingdom has.” You looked up from his chest, eyes swirling with confusion. You pushed yourself off him. Zephyr doesn’t stop you but his arms remain in a loose hug around you.

“What does that mean?” Zephyr sighed and closed his eyes. “…The politics of Ebreau is more complicated than you think, Lady (y/n).” He reopened his eyes and his purple irises stared back into your golden ones. Unlike his, your heart was pounding inside of you, threatening to burst from the stress but you pushed on, knowing this was important. You had to know more. “Tell me then. Shouldn’t I know how this country functions if I am to guide its people?” You pestered for him to elaborate. You unconsciously gripped onto his robe, tensed about what he’ll say. Just how many more challenges were you going to face?

Zephyr’s hands went up to your face and cupped your cheeks. He leaned down, shortening the gap between both your faces. “The relationship between the royal family and the temple…isn’t as great as it seems.” Zephyr confessed. The cheering outside continued on even after your retreat into the carriage but right now, you wished it would stop so you could have some silence to process this information. You tried your best to respond. “What…what happened?”

Zephyr let go of your face before peeking out the blinds. You looked out the small opening between the blinds and windows over his shoulder. The people continued to celebrate the procession outside, their voices not appearing to die down any time soon. He readjusted the blinds and blocked out the people once more. He took a deep breath.

“Things started to get messy 3 years ago. After the war with the Casvians began." Zephyr recalled. "As with all wars, the kingdom has suffered many losses from this ordeal, including but not limited to economic downfalls and disharmony among its people." You nodded. That makes sense...But how did that cause the deterioration of the relationship between the temple and the Royal family?

"Much of Ebreau's money and resources have been sent to the front line in the northeast to aid in the battle with Casviren. The Royal family only has so much money to spare now and they cannot effort to spend it on unnecessary groups or organisations." He fidgeted in his place. It was clear this was a sensitive and top secret topic. You could see glints of worry reflected in his eyes as he spoke. Zephyr was afraid of this information being leaked to the public.

"The temple maintains the people's belief in our Lord, Calerus, ensuring their undying loyalty to him. A common religion fosters unity and reduces dispute among the people as everyone shares the same principle and belief." Zephyr elaborated. You processed his words, keeping your head bowed in thought before asking. "So, basically, the temple is responsible for keeping the peace among the citizens?"

"Yes, that's a good way to put it." A smile graced Zephyr's lips, easing the tension in the air. "But many tragedies have occurred. Much blood has been spilled and even more tears have been shed. The war has raged on for too long and too fiercely. It has made a grave impact on the people, not just economically but also spiritually." He sighed. "They are starting to lose faith. Some even believe Calerus has abandoned Ebreau." Zephyr played with your hair. It appeared unfitting of the situation at first but looking at how he was rubbing and pinching the tip of it instead of twirling it like how he usually does, you guessed he was doing it out of anxiety and not playfulness.

Your mind spun as you tried to piece together the information. You never knew the beliefs of Ebreauans were waning. Have you just not been out and about enough? Surely not. You ran errands everyday for the past 2 years. You were always outside and mixing with the folks. Then that means either you're an unobservant idiot or you've never seen Ebreau when it was still prosperous.

The war started 3 years ago and you only got dropped here 2 years ago. 1 year may not be enough to put a dent, economy wise in a kingdom as wealthy as Ebreau but you don't doubt it's enough to instill fear and cause hysteria among the people.

Perhaps you've never seen the true glory of Ebreau.

Perhaps you've jumbled the chaos with the mundane.

Perhaps this madness has become your normal.

"The temple is losing influence, is that what you're saying?" You muttered and, to your dismay despite expecting it, Zephyr nodded. "Our Lord, Calerus," he sighed, "is no longer a tie that binds the nation together." He looked away before closing his eyes. "We no longer have the means to maintain the peace like we used to." It hurt him to admit this.

"..." You were deep in thought and thankfully, Zephyr was more than willing to give you space to process everything.

People are scared and confused. The war with the Casvians has gone on for 3 years already and currently, it still shows no signs of stopping. The commonfolks are grasping at anyone and anything for guidance in this desperate time. They look towards those in charge, in this case, the Royal family and the temple for assurance and direction, for a spark of hope that they will get through this. But when that fails...

It's not going to end well for the higher ups.

Zephyr took a deep breath and continued. "The palace considers us inept and are an extra weight that burdens them when they already have so much on their hands." The carriage rattled as it went over, what you assume to be, a rock. "Communication between the temple and palace has decreased to when absolutely necessary over the years and collaborations happen only to uphold the act that Ebreau is co-ruled by the temple and royal family." He explained further.

"I..." Zephyr paused midsentence and your breath hitched, awaiting what terrible news he will relay on you next. "I expect them to cut ties with us soon." You suppressed the urge to jump out the carriage this instant and run back to the temple-no, back to the small, little house you rented before you became Messiah. Before everything went haywire.

You buried your face into your hands. This was all too much. It went from bad to worse to horrible. It's been a constant downward spiral these back few days.

Don't cry, (y/n). Don't cry.

A pair of arms wrapped around you and pulled you towards their chest. Zephyr hugged you as he caressed you. His hand going up and down your back as he comforted. "I'm sorry to burden you with so much, Lady (y/n)." You felt him gripping onto your clothes. "I don't expect you to fix these problems. They've been festering for too long." He kissed your head.

"Maybe this country is already beyond salvation."

Your hands felt weak and fell from your face as he murmured into your ear. This kingdom... Ebreau... Your home...

How do you save it?

~✟~

The palace was just in view as the horses trotted closer, leading the carriage from the cobblestone road of the central town to the tiled pathway within the castle compound. Royal guards dressed in their white uniforms continued to stand guard beside the pathway just as they did when you were still on the streets of the central town. However, now with the revelation that people from the palace have a sour (to put it nicely) relationship with the temple, the blank stares of these men felt a lot more menacing and frightening than they previously were.

You met eyes with a certain guard on duty beside the pathway and it could be paranoia speaking but you swore there was ill intent behind those eyes. A chill ran down your spine as you quickly adverted your eyes to elsewhere.

Zephyr was still seated next to you, not moving despite already finished telling you the situation with the Royal family. You didn't mind though, you needed the emotional support for what was about to come.

The palace was mostly white in colour, its roof golden and its doors wooden but painted with silver, so were the window frames. As you inched closer, you could make out figures standing in front of the main entrance.

You gulped.

The carriage came to a stop. Zephyr stepped out first before holding his hand out for you to take. You slowly reached over, scooting towards the open door before stepping down the steps of the carriage, your hand in his.

Your heart was racing and you mentally counted to yourself before lifting your head to meet the gazes of the people before you.

“Messiah, we are so delighted that you’re here.” A silky and smooth voice poured from the mouth of the woman in front of you. The woman had light brown hair, done up into a side bun which hung low and near to her face. She wore a light blue gown, embellished with white pearls and clear crystals around the waist and also the skirt of the gown. She smiled, a few wrinkles appearing around the corners of her ruby eyes. “I am Marika Sinnyala.” She introduced herself, leaving out her title.

Queen.

Marika held up her hand and gestured to the person standing beside her. A younger man, tall and slim. He wore a uniform similar to the royal guards except his was silver, not white and there were some black embroidery around the collar. He had the same red eyes and a face resembling hers albeit it was more masculine. It wasn’t hard to tell who he was and what his relationship with Marika is.

“This is my dear son, Xion Sinnyala.”

The prince strode over, his white hair bouncing gently on his head. A mark of royalty as some would say. As was gold the colour of the divine, white was the colour of royalty. The Sinnyala family had ruled Ebreau for centuries alongside the temple. A striking characteristic of the Sinnyalas were their white as snow hair. It’s speculated that that’s why white symbolises royalty. It wouldn’t be far fetched that as time went on, Ebreauans associated that colour with power and luxury. Most past rulers of the kingdom had that colour of hair after all.

Even the late king.

Xion stopped right in front of you. He reached for your hand, grabbing onto it as he leaned down. His touch was feathery light, you could barely feel it.

It was almost as if he was avoiding touching you.

You resisted the urge to pull your hand back as he pressed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. His other hand rested behind his back. To outsiders, it may have appeared as a friendly gesture. A greeting from a prince to a maiden. Gentlemanly and almost fairytale like. You admit. Something like this, normally would get your heart racing and cheeks flushing.

But Xion, he was staring right at you as he did so.

The mother and son pair may share the same coloured eyes but Queen Marika’s were soft and friendly as she greeted you. Prince Xion, on the other hand, his eyes were piercing and fierce, his gaze felt like a glare. His actions seemed gentle and welcoming but the look in his eyes said otherwise.

You suddenly felt grateful for the veil you were wearing as your lips trembled.

His soft lips finally left your skin but he did not stand back up. Still in a bowed position, his voice, low and crisp, sounded.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Messiah.”

Another voice echoed from within the deep chambers of your mind at the same time, almost overlapping with the prince’s.

“Beware the Heretics.”

~✟~

Ahhhh done! Finally! This chapter was so hard to write since it was less action and more lore heavy. But finally it’s done! I was supposed to get this up yesterday but my body straight up went “hey wouldn’t it be funny to make her sick?” So yeah. That kinda slowed me down a bit. Sorry and thank you for waiting! I hope you enjoyed ^^

Ps: I decided to change the colour for Messiah from blue to orange since it suited better so I’ll go back and change the ones in previous chapters afterwards. Oh and again, any errors you find, let me know so I can correct them!

Taglist

@ursinaw @ceeesxy-blog @deepinballs @vash-yuu @fairy-lenaa @fleurescentlight @surprisemodafakas @cerisearan @avyannasstuff @justabratsworld @m0chilattae @sirenetheblogger @rosesunderthegarden @party-9 @waywardstardustcollector @crnnbrry-blog @iamapotatoe @altumsomnum @liesatemyocean @tired-of-life-86 @takottai @alexatiu

please tell me if I missed anyone!

303 notes · View notes

vivwritesfics · 6 months ago

Text

Jester Stole His Thorny Crown

Chapter Ten

He never had a choice in his life. His dreams were nothing more that that. Dreams. But then he met a lounge singer at his brother club and everything changed.

Mafia!Au

1.6K

warnings: smut! oral (fem!receiving)! p in v! this chapter is just porn lmao! unprotected

Series Masterlist

She couldn't help but feel ridiculous as she looked in the mirror. The pretty green lingerie adorned her body, the small bows in the centre of both pieces making it perfect. To cover that up was a silk robe.

Charles wasn't going to know what hit him.

But she turned away from her mirror before doubt could creep in and make her change. She looked damn sexy, and that was what mattered.

Tying her robe shut, she anxiously waited. Her apartment was so tidy and clean; she'd spent the morning, before her performance, obsessively cleaning for this moment.

And now it was here.

Charles hadn't been at her performance that night. She knew that, he'd let her know ahead of time that he was busy. But he had also promised to make it up to her.

That was why she was waiting, sitting on the arm of her sofa. She felt sick with anxiety as she fiddled with the bottom of her silk robe. Could he please hurry up? Or, at least tell her that he wasn't coming so she could get changed, crawl under her bed covers and never be seen again.

There was a knock at her door.

With her heart in her throat, she walked towards the door. She looked into the peephole and pulled it open.

"Hel-oh my God."

In the doorway, Charles paused. He had flowers in his hands, but they were gone as he looked at her, watching her robe fall open. His eyes roamed until they met her own.

And then he strode forward, kicked the door shut behind him and placed the flowers on the dresser by the door. "You look so fucking good," he said as he strode forward.

He pressed his lips to her own, hands reaching inside of the silk robe. Warm to the touch, his fingers moved over her skin, over her sides, up her back and then down to her ass.

But that wasn't what she was focusing on. No, she was entirely fixed on the way he was kissing her. He walked her back, lips never leaving hers as his tongue touched her bottom lip, tasting her flavoured lip gloss.

"Chérie, was this all for me?" He asked against her lips, pushing the robe to the floor.

When her legs met the back of the sofa she sat, pulling him down with her. "All for you, Charles," she whispered as she laid herself down. His body was on top of her, her arms around his neck, keeping him close. "All for you."

His fingers met the material of her bra and a groan left his lips. Head falling forward, he kissed her chest. "This set is incredibly pretty, but I might have to tear it off."

"Don't you dare!" She cried, reaching back to unclasp her bra.

But Charles stopped her. He caught her hand and held them above her head. Even when he sat back to admire her, she kept her arms above her head. "Fuck," he groaned, and began shedding his own clothes.

Unbuttoning his shirt, he dropped it to the floor and leaned forward to return his lips to her skin. Every touch had her moaning and whining. Every touch had her crying out for him, gasping out his name.

It was music to his ears, but not echoing around her living room. "Come on," he whispered as he took her hand and pulled her up from the sofa. She took on step but didn't make it too far before she was in his arms, legs wrapped around him as he attempted to carry her to the bedroom.

And I say attempted because Charles wasn't looking where he was going. How could he? When he had this sweet thing hanging onto him?

They bumped into a few walls on their way, but neither of them much cared, giggling against each others lips. Finally, Charles walked into her bedroom and dropped her onto the bed.

Even then, seeing her between the sheets, it was something new to admire, had him wanting to reach for his phone, to snap a picture.

He sucked in a breath and dropped to his knees.

She never thought she'd see the day, where Charles Leclerc, one of Monaco's rulers, essentially, got to his knees in front of her. He kissed the inside of her ankle and along her leg, until he met her thigh.

When his teeth met the soft flesh of her thigh, she let out a gasp. It wasn't a proper bite, didn't hurt. But, God, she loved it. Her hands were in his hair, tugging.

"Sure I can't tear these?" He asked, and she stopped her whining long enough to gasp out a "No."

She'd expected him to gently pull them down her legs, to deposit them on the floor. But this was a desperate man. He just had to get his lips on her.

He pushed her underwear to the side. Keeping it on her body, snapping the strap against her hip, he pushed the material to one side and dove in.

"Fuck!" She pitched forward, legs wrapping around his head, keeping him there.

He was like a man starved as he ate her out, licking and sucking at her folds. It was sloppy and messy, and he was loving every second of it. The noises he pulled from her as he payed attention to her clit, he could have listened to them over and over again for the rest of his life.

His hand was on his hip, the other coming to touch her. One finger at first, gently breaching her. He kept his lips on her clit as he thrust that single finger, testing her.

And then he added a second. Her moans, whines and cries only grew as he pushed his fingers inside of her. His name leaving her lips over and over again. She moved her head from side to side as he worked his magic.

When her legs began shaking around his head, Charles pulled away. He lifted his fingers to his lips, tasting her. "Fuck, chérie," he whispered, eyes shutting.

As he stood straighter, her legs came to wrap around her middle, refusing to let him go. He leaned over her and held his fingers to her lips, letting her taste herself. She couldn't stop herself from moaning.

"Charles," she cried, legs tightening around him. "Wanna suck you off."

He grinned, finally wrapping his fingers around the strap of her underwear, pulling them down from her hips. "Later, chérie, let me have you, first."

She couldn't much argue with that, could she?

Charles pulled her underwear down and dropped it to the floor. She pulled off her own bra and reached out, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him towards her. "I'm gonna give you such good head in Italy," she said with a grin, tongue poking between her teeth.

Naked beneath him, Charles admired her for the third time that night. He realised in that moment that he'd never stop admiring her, not if he could help it.

And then, as he cradled her head and pressed his lips against her own, he pushed inside of her.

There is something you have to understand about Charles Leclerc. He had never loved someone like this before. He'd had sex, but it was fast, to get the job done.

This, though? This was slow, sweet. He was hyper aware of her beneath him. She clawed at his back, and every rake of her nails down his skin had him moaning. He'd never been this vocal in sex before, attributing it to her and her alone.

The way she felt around him, the way she clenched around her, dragging him back in with every thrust. It wasn't fast, wasn't rushed, every thrust full of purpose.

His hands were beneath her breasts, thumbs running over her nipples. Her moans were no longer his name, incoherent. But Charles had her. And he wasn't going to let her go.

Her breath was short, cunt squeezing her cock. She was so close, he knew. And, when he finally pushed her over the edge, her body stopped.

Legs stopped shaking, body tights as she came. Her nails dug into his shoulder, but he didn't mind as he pushed her through it, helping her to ride it out. "I'm nearly there, chérie," he whispered as his forehead met hers.

She attached her lips to his own, with desperation that was bruising. He only sped up slightly as he got closer. Closer still until he was still, spilling inside of her.

For a moment he just kissed her, holding himself up on shaking arms as he kissed her with his cock still inside of her. No words were exchanged as he pulled out, watched himself dribble out of her cunt. He couldn't stop himself as he dragged his finger through the mess and stuffed it back in, but her pained, oversensitive cries.

"Okay, I'm sorry," he whispered, forehead against her own.

He scooped her into his arms, giving her a moment before he took her into the bathroom to get cleaned up. "Charles?" She squeaked against his chest as her fingers moved over his skin. He let out a hum, lips against her hair. "'m gonna make you see stars in Italy."

Permanent Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool

@rewmuslupin

@prettiest-at-the-party

@hellowgoodbye

@minseok-smaus

@formulaal

@hiireadstuff

@urfavnoirette

@goldenharrysworld

@andydrysdalerogers

@raikkxz

@llando4norris

@evlkking

@lilymurphy03

@hollie911

@customsbyjcg-blog

@honethatty12

@nikfigueiredo

@darleneslane

@not-nyasa

Series Taglist (OPEN): @ninifee1802

@booksandflowrs

@ashy-kit

@weekendlusting

@annispamz

@watermelonworries

@spideybv28

@janeholt03

@barcelonaloverf1life

@ver-lec

@shobaes

@jaydensluv

@bingussthirdtoe

@a-beaverhausen

@doofenshmirtzevil-inc

@charlotte1697

@iamkaku

@arrowheadleadingushome13

@pretty-angel333

@styl1shl1v

@sltwins

215 notes · View notes

usnatarchives · 8 months ago

Text

The WAVES of Change: Women's Valiant Service in World War II 🌊

When the tides of World War II swelled, an unprecedented wave of women stepped forward to serve their country, becoming an integral part of the U.S. Navy through the Women Accepted for Volunteer Emergency Service (WAVES) program. This initiative not only marked a pivotal moment in military history but also set the stage for the transformation of women's roles in the armed forces and society at large. The WAVES program, initiated in 1942, was a beacon of change, showcasing the strength, skill, and patriotism of American women during a time of global turmoil.

The inception of WAVES was a response to the urgent need for additional military personnel during World War II. With many American men deployed overseas, the United States faced a shortage of skilled workers to support naval operations on the home front. The WAVES program was spearheaded by figures such as Lieutenant Commander Mildred H. McAfee, the first woman commissioned as an officer in the U.S. Navy. Under her leadership, WAVES members were trained in various specialties, including communications, intelligence, supply, medicine, and logistics, proving that women could perform with as much competence and dedication as their male counterparts.

The impact of the WAVES program extended far beyond the war effort. Throughout their service, WAVES members faced and overcame significant societal and institutional challenges. At the time, the idea of women serving in the military was met with skepticism and resistance; however, the exemplary service of the WAVES shattered stereotypes and demonstrated the invaluable contributions women could make in traditionally male-dominated fields. Their work during the war not only contributed significantly to the Allies' victory but also laid the groundwork for the integration of women into the regular armed forces.

The legacy of the WAVES program is a testament to the courage and determination of the women who served. Their contributions went largely unrecognized for many years, but the program's impact on military and gender norms has been profound. The WAVES paved the way for future generations of women in the military, demonstrating that service and sacrifice know no gender. Today, women serve in all branches of the U.S. military, in roles ranging from combat positions to high-ranking officers, thanks in no small part to the trail blazed by the WAVES.

The WAVES program was more than just a wartime necessity; it was a watershed moment in the history of women's rights and military service. The women of WAVES not only supported the United States during a critical period but also propelled forward the conversation about gender equality in the armed forces and beyond. Their legacy is a reminder of the strength and resilience of women who rise to the challenge, breaking barriers and making waves in pursuit of a better world.

Read more: https://prologue.blogs.archives.gov/2023/11/06/historic-staff-spotlight-eunice-whyte-navy-veteran-of-both-world-wars/

#WAVES #Women’s History Month #Veterans #Women’s History #Military #U.S. Military #World War II

211 notes · View notes

harvestmoss · 2 months ago

Text

🌹 Love & Sex Magic Basics

Some good knowledge to have in the back of the mind when performing love and sex magic, alone or with others, yourself or for others. Sex and love magic often work together.

As always, I do not want minors on these posts, this is an 18+ only post.

Blog post include...

TIME - The best times to cast love and sex magic.

SPACE - The best places to performance.

TOOLS - Great talismans and objects to have near you when performing.

COLOURS - Best colours to use.

NUMBERS - Numbers use and to invoke.

WATERS - Spell waters to use for enhancements.

OILS - Spell oils best suited for love and sex magic.

BOTANICALS & APHRODISIACS - Flowers, herbs, foods, etc. These are the botanicals to use for love and sex magic, especially the aphrodisiac ones.

NOTES - Extra good knowledge to know when performing love and sex spells.

TIME

🌑 New Moon: The new moon is associated with our shadow self. Due to history and religion, we often associate sex and desires with our shadow self, something kind of unacceptable. It's such a primal human feeling, lust. So sex magic benefits from the New Moon greatly.

🌒 Waxing: The moon is getting bigger and brighter. Creating an ideal phase for magic around growth. Say you're in a relationship already, you'd want it to grow better and stronger, this is an ideal time to add extra passion into your sex life too.

🌕 Full Moon: Everything is full and intense on the Full Moon. Generally, all spells are enhanced during Full Moon, so you may cast sex magic here to enhance them. See what works best for you whenever it is the Full Moon or New Moon.

♀️ Friday: These are the best days for love and sex magic. This day is in honour of Venus. But you may also know it as the day of Aphrodite, Freya, and Oshun. Generally, love spirits are most powerful during Fridays.

🕒 The Clock: Typically, daylight brings abundance, growth, and positive influences. Night brings out the shadow self, intuition and emotional self. You could prepare spells in the daylight and performe them during night. See what works best for you. I wouldn't worry too much about the exact clock.

SPACE

🛏️ The Bedroom: The bedroom is home to the bed, a place we spend roughly ⅓ of our lives in. I believe it oozes with great magical threshold and potential. It's the home to our subconscious mind and desires. A bed is also where we typically perform pleasurable acts. Performaning sex magic in the bedroom is more potent than that of the living room.

🛁 The Bathroom: Not the place we typically have acts of pleasure, but it is a place we're often bare and naked in. we take baths, or get ready and make sure we looks alright, make sure we smell good, some do their makeup here, so on and so forth. I often perform glamour magic in the bathroom, and if you do glamour magic in conjunction with sex magic, your sex magic has a greater chance of success. Glamour magic is about attraction, and sex magic is specifically attracting pleasure. Think of them as collaborative partners occasionally.

TOOLS

🌿 Priapic Wand: A wand with a phallic object attached to the end, usual that of an acorn or pinecone. Mainly used to encourage the growth of Spring and is a symbol of Imbolc and Beltane. You may attache ribbons and bells to it as well.

🌿 Mermaid Wand: Mermaids or sirens are said to have lured sailors into the sea with their beauty and sexual nature. A mermaid wand is simply a piece of driftwood.

🌿 Copper Wand: Copper holds romance and feminine energy, so copper wands are often used in love spells, tope it with a rose quartz to enhance the powers.

🦢 Swan/Rooster Feathers: Swans are often a romantic symbol of grace and beauty, we often see swans in artworks being their iconic heart symbol together, they're also a bird that mates for life. Roosters on the other hand help ward off evil and are a symbol of male energy. I see rooster feathers often used in love magic, perhaps because the rooster is such a lady's man?

🔧 Iron: Representing primal male power. Iron helps invoke sexual desire and remedy lack of libido. Iron is also hard, stiff, and endures a lot. So we're hoping that it's magical properties will tranfer through to the spells. Soaking iron in water and using that water to bath your man, specifically the part that's actually useful about us, will enhance us to perform better.

🕯️ Candles: Candles are already used in every spell there is, I'm mainly placing it here since I've found that when you involve another person and light their name on fire it invoke passion and sexual drive.

💕 Adult Toys: I suggest having literal symbols of sex near you or being used when performing sex magic. Even greater if you have one specifically for the use of these rituals. Similarly, having pornography to stimulate you is favoured, or a partner.

🐎 Horseshoes or Horse Symbols: Horseshoes are often associated with luck and protection. But can also be a powerful love talisman. Horse shoes incorporate iron (as discussed above), the shape of a horse shoe is reminiscens a cresent moon, often associated with female energy, and it may also be associated with the symbol of double horns which is a symbol of the female genitalia (Statues showing off the vulva frightened off ghosts because the vulva is a symbol of life and ghosts are dead). The symbol of a horse adds additonal meaning, especially that of a stallion, being that of powerful virile animals. If you were to hammer a nail through a horseshoe, well, isn't that obvious why?

COLOURS

🍎 Red: A primary colour, red is associated with life and passion in many cultures. Red is connected to the body through health, sex, lust, love, romance, passion, confidence.

🍊 Orange: Symbolising connections in our life. It has associations with power, vitality, energy, growth, success, and ambitions. Great colour to use when you're already in a relationship.

💗 Pink: Often a feminine colour, therefore, it represents those quirks and stereotypes. Unconditional love, playfulness, love, gentleness, beauty, feelings. It's also the lesser colour of red, so if you'd want more intimate sex rather than rough, I recommended pink.

NUMBERS

2️⃣ Two (2): For obvious reasons, it is the number of unity, of harmony.

5️⃣ Five (5): I have heard to invoke the power of Oshun (Orisha of Love), you should use the number five.

6️⃣ Six (6): To invoke the power of Aphrodite (Lady of Love), use the number six.

8️⃣ Eight (8): To invoke the power of Inanna-Ishtar (Queen of Heaven), use the number eight. Eight is also the number associated with eternity and infinity if you lay it down, so use it to keep a relationship and sex life intact.

🔢 Numerology: Generally, lesser numbers are beginnings and bigger numbers are endings. So use lesser numbers to start a passionate life and bigger numbers to have greater orgasms, etc. See what works best for you.

WATERS

🕊️ Angel's Water: This water began as a complexation remedy in the sixtheenth-century before slowly becoming a love potion. It's name is a reference to the Angels that seduced the daughters of man in the Book of Genesis. It's also known as Aphrodite Water with it's main ingredient being Myrtle, which is said is what Aphrodite was covered in when she emerged from the ocean.

💞 Florida Water: Originally marketed as a cologne. Florida Water has attractive qualities due to it's scent with rosemary and citrus aspects. IT draws in luck, fantastic energies, and happiness.

🌹 Rose Water: Roses are often associated with love and romance, especially the red variant. Rose Water, or any flower water for that matter, are often used in love spells and beauty spells.

🍷 May Wine: Ritual potion for Midsummer’s Eve and Walpurgis Night. Some of my potions require mixing ingredients into a wine, and I choose May Wine, if I don't have that, red wine is fine.

OILS

💖 Love Oil: Used for love and sex spells, as well as being used for attraction.

💘 Come To Me Lover Oil: Consider this a deluxe version of Love Oil. Perfect for sex magic and attraction of people, used mainly for specific purposes, such as drawing in a specific kind of sex life or person.

🐈 Black Cat Oil: Break bad spells and hexes, attract positive attention, especially that of the opposite gender. Depending on what oil base you choose, jojoba or castor oil for protection and almond oil for love spells.

🌿 Cleopatra Oil: Captures the true essence of legendary Egyptian queen, Cleopatra. Used for glamor spells, love and sex magic.

BOTANICALS & APHRODISIACS

💐 Botanicals: Basil, carrots, catnip, chamomile, cardamom, coriander, cubeb, gardenia, grains of paradise, hibiscus, hyacinth, iris, jasmine, lady’s mantle, lavender, lovage, mint, onion, orchid, poppy, rose, rosemary, saint john’s wort, southernwood, strawberries, thyme, tormentil, vervain.

Botanicals associated with romance and sex and/or can enhance your love and sex spells.

🍾 Aphrodisiacs: Caviar, champagne, chocolate, coriander, apricots, peaches, cherries, grapes, figs, pomegranates, garlic, hibiscus tea, honey, hot peppers, mint, onions, radishes, saffron, shellfish, cardamom, cinnamon, cloves, sushi, vanilla, tomato.

Ingredients in which have shown to have aphrodisiac effects, some more than others.

☁️ Myrrh and Frankincense: They may not be obvious, with their religious background and association. However, they were burned in ancient Egypt, and myrrh was associated with Isis, the goddess of fertility, and frankincense with that of Rah. The lunar and sun goddess and god. Burn together with a partner or burn myrrh if you're more fem leaning and frankincense if you're mask leaning. Burn myrrh if you're attracting a woman and burn frankincense if you're attracting a man. What if you're nonbinary or the partner is? Burn both.

NOTES

Some extra good things to note before, during, and after performing love and sex spells.

Bathing your hands in Rose Water to enhance spells before performing - You may also use thyme.

Performing naked for sex magic increases the chances of success. Alternatively, clothing that makes you feel sexy.

Wearing a red ribbon around your waist for sexual seduction enhancement. You may use red string and incorporate knot magic, or a red gather belt, or regular belt. Something red around your waist, essentially.

In sex magic, you'll want to stir counter-clockwise. This is to invoke passion and vigour in your sex life. While clockwise is the opposite and lessens the libido. You may also think of it as counter-clockwise for deviance and clockwise for "vanilla".

Stir near your thighs and genitals to enhance success and better sex.

Stir near your heart for romantic love.

The hair off of someone's head is often used in love spells to draw them near you and make them love you. However, if you acquire their pubic hair, more sexual and aroused feelings will be invoked.

Use your sexual bodily fluids to charge and enchant sigils and other objects.

Use menstrual blood to enhance love spells. Are you someone who do not bleed like me? Worry not! Prick your ring finger, preferably that of the left (unless you're married, then that of the right) and the blood will have a similar effect to that of menstrual blood.

Are your love spells not working on your lover? Acquire a piece of their hair and let gentle water drip on ti it continually and the resistance should wear off. Sometimes your lover may even be cursed with lack of sexual performances, so bathing in iron would help or eating any of the aphrodisiac ingredients would help too.

It helps to be in the mindset when performing love and sex spells, so being aroused and excited for sex spells helps them perform better. Being in a romantic mood helps for love spells, so feed yourself well with cherries, peaches, and chocolate. As well as having your favourite adult toys out when doing sex magic or also warming yourself up and then performing sex magic.

That should be it, go out and have lots of good sex and love!

Excuse grammar mistake and spelling errors, English is not my first language.

85 notes · View notes

harleehazbinfics · 9 months ago

Text

Home is where my heart is.

Chapter 5: Happy Hotel Table of Contents | Profile

Word Count: 2032

“—so ladies and gentlemen, I’m opening the first of his kind! A hotel that rehabilitates sinners!”

I give an amused hum looking at the TV then commenting, “Well, isn’t that something, hun?”

“Indeed so. How about we introduce ourselves later, sweetheart?” he mentions somewhat mysteriously holding the small of my back.

“Wow, look at you, perking up all of a sudden,” I said looking at him surprised, but he just raises an eyebrow at me, I shrugged and continued, “Well, you know. You just seem so disinterested in these matters concerning others, especially angels before.”

He laughs and replies, “Well, over the years of toppling overlords, angels seem to be the most troublesome bunch for now. Not to say I’d lose to those pesky flies from heaven.”

I nodded my head finding reason in his explanation. “That’s fair enough. Though, things have changed since you’ve been gone, Al. Even I’m attending those annoying meetings for you,” I complained.

“I apologize, my dear,” he coddled, “I know how fussy you get when you go for long without me.”

I gasped dramatically hand over my chest, “Me? Fussy? Should I mention that you would literally drag down a person that was just talking to me?”

“Oh, please. He was very clearly trying to hit on you, and you’re too nice to even turn them down, sweetheart,” he rebuts rolling his eyes.

“I could’ve handled it myself,” I harrumphed cheekily turning my cheek at him.

“Of course you would have, my darling,” he dismisses me playfully.

I scrunched my face at him which he only responded with a pinch on my nose playfully with a genuine smile on his face. I turn to face some demons who were charging at us, no doubt some of Mammon’s goons who accepted the job for some drugs, I sighed and waved my hand over their figures and watched as water appears and jets them off to the side. Tightening my hands into a fist encasing them in water to drown in, leaving them there.

“See. Very powerful,” I told my husband gesturing at the drowning fools that stopped releasing water bubbles from their mouth.

“Seems like you’ve also been busy for these 7 years apart,” he mentions.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” I glared off the side annoyed.

We appeared on the hill where this hotel that the princess of hell advertised earlier. My heart clenched when I hear her trying to call her mom wondering if Abby did as much when I disappeared so suddenly. She goes inside without noticing us.

Al, being the gentleman he was, knocked on the door first.

“Hel—” slam “—oh” slam

“Pff, you scared the poor thing,” I laughed at him crossing my arms. He pinches my cheek then turns back to the door.

“May I speak now?”

“You may,” she elongates crossing her arms trying to be authoritative making me chuckle at how cute she was.

“Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you, sweetheart! Quite the pleasure. This is my wife, Miledy,” he introduced the both of us while he walks right in through the door, and continues rapidly, “Excuse our sudden visit but we saw your fiasco at the picture show, and I just couldn’t resist! What a performance! My I haven’t been that entertained since the stock market crash of 1929! Hahaha! So many orphans...”

I raise my eyebrow at him, then realizing he really doesn’t care much for other people’s well-beings if it was our family. I’m pretty sure he misses Abigail to this day.

“Hi, I’m Miledy. Aren’t you the cutest?” I cooed pinching her cheek dotingly. She awkwardly laughs at my actions and waits for me to pull away from which I did, seeing how polite the daughter of hell is. “Sorry about him.”

“Stop. Right. There!” a spear pointed at Alastor making both Charlie and I’s eyes widen at the aggression. “I know your game. I’m not gonna let you hurt anyone here! You pompous, cheesy, talk show shit-lord!”

He laughs drily and moves the spear away, “Dear, I wanted to hurt anyone here... I would have done so already.”

They back away frightened at Alastor’s intimidation the room changing, symbols and shadows flickering in the room while his eyes turned into their infamous stare.

“No! I’m here because I wanted to help!” he exclaimed.

“Say what now?” “Huh?”

“Help!”

I let him do his theatrics while I moved around looking at pictures framed on the wall finding many paintings of the Morningstar family, some probably with their close friends, and many posters of Lilith’s shows.

“So, who’s fish breath over here?”

“I beg your pardon?” I turned to the voice and met eyes with a pink spider sinner adapting a very... voluminous form.

“What’s the deal between you and smiles over there?” he asked jabbing his thumb at Al’s direction.

I just smiled at him and said nothing while the little lady asks, “Wait, you’ve never heard of them before? You’ve been here longer than me.” He shrugs making her continue, “The Radio Demon, The Siren? Two of the most powerful being’s hell has ever seen?”

“Eh, not big on politics,” he gives up slumping back on the couch where I sat next to him, much to his comfort.

“Hmm, I’d like to know how the masses see us,” I mused placing my chin on my hand curiously.

She bites back a groan and explains, “Decades ago, Alastor manifested in Hell, seemingly overnight. He began to topple Overlords who have been dominant for centuries. He and the Siren always worked together, always one without the other. She had the voice that only second to Lilith herself. That kind of raw power had never been harnessed by a mortal soul before. Then, he broadcast their carnage all throughout Hell just so everyone could witness their ability. Sinners started calling him "The Radio Demon" (as lazy as that is). Many have speculated what unimaginable force enabled him to rival our world's most ancient and destructive evils. But one thing's for sure: They’re an unpredictable source of danger, a wicked spirit of mystery, and a violent monster of chaos, the likes of which we can't risk getting involved with unless we want to end up erased!”

“Interesting,” I commented with a grin grazing my eyes over at Alastor.

“You done? He looks like a strawberry pimp,” he laughs looking back the pair.

She huffs then crosses her arms and answers, “Well, I don’t trust him!”

“To be fair, do you trust any man? Any men? Men?” he chides then laughing making the woman glare at her while I just stared at the both of them, my head resting on both my hands now finding their exchange fun.

I appeared beside Al as he waited for Charlie to decide, “Why are you suddenly invested in the princess?”

He shrugs and gives me a lazy grin and answers, “Well, it seems like fun.”

“Rightt,” I drawled out not asking him further, he may be like this in public, but I know he doesn’t do anything unless it favors him.

“Okay, so, Al. You're sketchy as fuck and you clearly see what I'm trying to do here as a joke.” She pauses, “But, I don't. I think everyone deserves a chance to prove they can be better. So, I'm taking your offer to help. On the condition that there be no... tricks or voodoo strings attached.”

“So, it's a deal, then?” he offers holding out his hand to take as the room glowed green and wind blowing past us.

“Nope! No shaking! No deals! I... hmm... As princess of Hell and heir to the throne, I, uh, hereby order that you help with this hotel. For as long as you desire,” she orders politely as Alastor fixes up his hair, “Sound fair?”

“Hmm... Fair enough!” He hums as he inspects the room.

“Smile, my dear! You know you're never fully dressed without one!” he teases Vaggie wiggling his finger under her chin to annoy her. “So where is your hotel staff?”

“Uh, well-.”

“Ohohoho, you're going to need more than that,” he remarks walking towards the pink spider, “And what can you do, my effeminate fellow?”

“I can suck your dick!” he offers enthusiastically.

“HAH! No,” Al denies immediately while I gave the spider a harsh glare, a few of my water demons popping out of the ground menacingly making him whimper.

“You know what? I changed my mind!” he states awkwardly trying to save his skin.

“Well, this just won't do!” Al yells summoning his staff, “I suppose I can cash in a few favors to liven things up.”

He conjures up a nice fireplace and lifts up a black blob with a big eye, dropping it to the ground.

“Hi, I'm Niffty! It's nice to meet you! It's been a while since I've made new friends!” he introduces, “Why're you all women? Are there any men here?! I'm sorry, that's rude. Oooh, man! This place is filthy! It really needs a lady's touch! Which is weird because you're all ladies, no offense. Oh, my gosh! This is awful! Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope!”

When Nifty walks past me I give her a pet on the head with a smile which she enjoyed, as Husker arrives along with a casino table.

“Ah, Husker, my good friend! Glad you could make it!”

“Don't you "Husker" me, you son of a bitch! I was about to win the whole damn pot!” he yells and facepalms when the money disappears.

“Good to see you too!” he replies clearly enjoying annoying Husk.

“What the hell do you want with me this time...?” he sighs defeated.

“My friend, I am doing some charity work, so I took it upon myself to volunteer your services! I hope that's okay!”

“Are you shittin' me?!”

“Hmm... No, I don't think so!”

“You thought it'd be some kind of big fucking riot just to pull me out of nowhere?! You think I'm some kind of fucking clown?!”

“Maybe!”

“I ain't doing no fucking charity job.”

“Well, I figured you would be the perfect face to man the front desk of this fine establishment!” he says summoning a bar, “With your charming smile and welcoming energy, this job was made for you! Don't worry my friend. I can make this more welcoming! ...If you wish.”

Husk stares at the bottle of cheap booze that Al summoned for him and exclaims, “What? You think you can buy me with a wink and some cheap booze?! ...Well, you can!”

Vaggie starts yelling while gesturing at the bar, “Hey, hey! Hey, hey, hey! No! No bar, no alcohol! This is supposed to be a place that discourages sin! Not some kind of mouth…brothel…man cave!”

Angel lunges at her effectively cutting her of and yells “SHUT UP! SHUT! UP! We are keeping this!”

“So, whaddaya think?” Al asks Charlie.

“This is amazing!” she answers happily rubbing her cheeks.

“It's... okay,” vaggie answers less enthusiastically while her arms crossed.

“Hahaha! This is going to be very entertaining!” Al pulls the three of us in and starts his little parody of the song Charlie sang that we listened to earlier.

“Hah! Well, well, well. Look who it is harboring the striped freak! We meet yet again, Alastor!” Sir Pentious greets valiantly making me smile.

Alastor only responds with, “Do I know you?”

He visibly deflates like a balloon and retaliates, “Oh, yes you do! And this time, I have the element of- SURPRISE! Ahaha! I'm so evil!”

With the power in Alastor’s hand he immediately shuts down Sir Pentious’ little parade. Summoning a portal of his black tendrils and smashing the blimp into bits. We watched as it was broken apart and him being thrashed around, making me feel bad for the poor guy.

“...Well, I'm starved! Who wants some Jambalaya? My mother once showed me a wonderful recipe for Jambalaya. In fact, it nearly killed her! Hahaha! You could say the kick was right out of Hell! Ohoho, I'm on a roll! Yes, sir! This is the start of some real changes down here! The game is set! Now... Stay tuned…”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin lucifer #alastor x reader #hazbin vaggie #alastor x oc #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor

167 notes · View notes