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papiliotao · 10 months

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꒰ 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 !! ✩࿐

pairings: albedo, alhaitham, childe, cyno, heizou, kazuha, scaramouche, and xiao x gn!reader (separate)

content: fluff, very light angst in xiao’s and childe’s (they still ends with fluff though), kissing, established relationship

summary: in which your boyfriend tells you that he loves you, but instead of returning his sentiments, you decide to mess with him by not saying it back.

a/n: i said that i’d post soon like two weeks ago... oops. nonetheless, i hope you have fun reading this!

₊˚ପ ALBEDO

“What’s the matter?” Albedo asks, tilting his head slightly as the words fall from the tip of his tongue. Vivid teal eyes fill with hints of concern that dance through his irises loftily in a flurry of iridescent petals.

Albedo is worried, but he doesn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing. For now, he’ll test the waters of an unexplored ocean and scope out the situation, hoping that he’s just reading too much into things.

“Nothing,” you answer, tilting your head innocently as if you don’t have a clue what Albedo’s talking about.

Your boyfriend is perplexed, but he’s not an idiot. He’s often been regarded as a genius, and he’s spent almost as much time reading the sentimental words engraved into your heart as he has conducting his experiments. Albedo is absolutely captivated by you because you never fail to leave him fascinated and awe-struck. So naturally, he’s managed to pick up on all your subtle habits and all your strange quirks.

And right now, the expression on your face tells him that something is off. A missing brushstroke on a panoramic painting. A sour note in an otherwise enchanting composition. A sparkling daydream where you feel just a little too lucid.

You know exactly what he’s talking about. You’re just feigning ignorance.

Now all Albedo has to do is figure out why.

“I see,” he whispers under his breath in a tone so soft that even a light breeze would whisk his words off to neverland.

Albedo’s gaze remains fixated on you, his eyebrows scrunched and eyes narrowed.

Then a barely-audible chuckle leaves your lips. You stifle it in an instant, but Albedo has committed the melodic sound of your laugh to memory.

And suddenly everything makes sense.

You’re trying to get a reaction out of him, but sadly for you, you seem to have forgotten one key detail. Albedo is used to solving issues in a calm manner, his temperament akin to aquatic drafts that gently caress the surface of a crystal ocean. Cool and controlled.

“Ah, I understand now,” he says, and your eyes widen. The expression on your face rivals the beauty of a night sky dotted with various asterisms. You’re utterly ethereal. The corners of Albedo’s lips turn up, graced with a smile that shines with the light of a million stars. “You thought you could fool me, but unfortunately, you just gave yourself away.”

A pause. The tension within the air thaws, and the atmosphere becomes light-hearted once more.

“I’m not mad,” he clarifies, staring you dead in the eye, “but I would, however, appreciate it if you could make it up to me.”

₊˚ପ ALHAITHAM

Alhaitham is unfazed.

He sees right through you. You didn’t seriously think this was going to work on him, right? It didn’t take him long to get used to your antics when you first got together, and although you haven’t tried to play as many pranks on him as of late, it’s difficult to erase the devious grin you don whenever you’re up to something from his mind. Nor has the sly look in your eyes slipped from his memory.

Your boyfriend’s ability to read you is almost prophetic — a prediction of the future, yet no stars are read and no omens are required. He makes his predictions based on logic and logic alone.

And unfortunately for you, you don’t possess the same capabilities.

When you ignore Alhaitham’s honeyed words, turning your back to walk away with a coldness reminiscent of the farthest outreaches of the galaxy, he simply shrugs it off and heads to your living room to read a book. He sinks comfortably into a plush armchair, knowing full well that you’ll be back in no time.

Just four pages in, and Alhaitham hears the sound of footsteps echoing down the hallways, filling your shared home with a familiar sort of music. It’s only a few more seconds before he feels a tap on his shoulder — a touch that brings him back to reality entirely, away from the realm of scholarly pursuits.

“Is there anything you need?” Alhaitham asks, meeting your gaze with eyes tinted a turquoise found only in the most pristine of diamond waters. He remains as stoic as ever, not allowing so much as a single hint of emotion to show through his front.

You stare at him, dumbfound, for a few moments. Alhaitham knows what you’re thinking. He’s normally so observant — nothing ever slips past him, and yet this time, he failed to acknowledge the fact that you didn’t respond to his ‘I love you’. Besides that, it’s rather rare for Alhaitham to allow those words to leave his lips in the first place. He prefers to reserve them for tender moments, times where it feels like the only beings present in the vast universe are the two of you. You expected him to be more alert, and yet, Alhaitham has subverted all your expectations.

And it’s all part of his plan.

But then your eyes widen, filling with a light signaling that you’ve just experienced an epiphany. Alhaitham can tell that you’ve realized what he’s up to, and that your little scheme has backfired entirely.

“About earlier,” you start, assuming that Alhaitham already knows what you’re referring to.

Alhaitham smiles.

“What about it?” he questions you, acting oblivious even though both of you know Alhaitham would never be that clueless.

“You acted like you didn’t notice on purpose, didn’t you?” You’re pouting, but your irritation is clearly feigned. Alhaitham knows you like the back of his hand, and although messing with you produces some entertaining results, he would never go so far as to hurt you.

A rare smile graces Alhaitham’s face, as stunning as vivid ribbons of celestial light that compose an illustrious aurora. He’s not typically one to express emotion, but he can’t help himself. You’re just far too irresistible, and if there’s one thing he has a soft spot for, it’s you.

“My apologies,” he speaks in his usual calm tone. “I just couldn’t help myself — not when I knew I’d be able to bear witness to such an adorable display of anger.”

₊˚ପ CHILDE

The silence that hangs in the air is tangible — a thick veil of unspoken words, all consolidated into glacial fractals that cause the atmosphere to glaze over. An icy sort of tension permeates the moment, crystallizing the ambience and morphing it into something fragile.

And everything shatters when your boyfriend speaks.

“[Name],” he frowns, gazing at you with periwinkle hues devoid of illumination. He sighs, swallowing his pride. “Say it back. Please.”

A blank look fills your eyes, morphing once-lively galaxies into monochromatic jumbles of nonsense. For once, Childe can’t tell what you’re thinking, and that scares him. Either you’re messing with him, and you’re an exceptionally good actor, or you’re being serious.

“Say what back?” you say, cluelessness filling your tone filling your tone.

Childe is dumbfounded. It’s true that he tells you he loves you quite often, but he didn’t think that you’d become so accustomed to it that his words would no longer hold any weight. Although he finds it slightly odd, he supposes that even the most precious of glittering gemstones becomes mundane when fortune is the norm. But that doesn’t mean he’s any less disappointed.

“You really can’t tell?” he sighs yet again. He averts his gaze, looking anywhere but at you.

You shake your heart, and yet as you do, he catches a subtle flash of gilded lightning flash through your irises, setting your expression ablaze with hints of mischief. It vanishes as quickly as it appeared, but Childe knows what he saw. The initial melancholy that gripped his heart with cold fingers borne of frost dissipates, and in its place, amusement arises.

Silence. Shock. Disbelief.

And then he bursts out in a fit of sonorous laughter, the sheer volume of each chuckle rivalling that of an intense tempest.

Your eyes widen. It seems that you didn’t expect to be found out, but Childe has known you for long enough to be able to read your emotions. He’s spent an eternity exploring every nuance of your personality — every subtlety and every quirk, the good, the bad, and the ugly. And he loves every part of you.

That’s why he never fails to express his adoration whenever the opportunity is presented in evanescent moments like these. Although times like these sound like they’d be rare, they’re not when he’s by your side. Every second is filled with bliss, and despite the instances where azure skies are painted a dull grey and sapphire oceans turn tumultuous, he always knows that everything will be alright.

“I should have known,” he says. “You were just teasing me.”

Busted.

In less than a minute, your boyfriend has exposed all your plans, and you have no choice but to admit defeat.

“I was,” you admit, hanging your head.

Childe laughs, but once he settles down, he cups your chin in one hand and lifts your head to meet his gaze. With a surprising amount of tenderness, he closes the distance between your lips. Inch by inch.

You lean in as well. Time slows, and he forgets how to breathe. Even though he was the one who initiated the kiss, he finds you utterly enchanting. The beating of his heart speeds up, becoming erratic, desperate for the sensation of your soft lips pressed against his.

And then it happens. Although Childe had been looking for a verbal affirmation of love, this is even better. Fireworks seem to burst in the edges of his vision, painting the world in vivid shades of phosphorescent crimson and rose.

₊˚ପ CYNO

“Say it back. There’s no need to continue on with this prank of yours because cy-no you’re only joking,” he says. His voice is as monotone as ever, as tranquil as cerulean seas beneath a sky dotted with snowy white clouds.

His words provoke no response from you. You simply stare at him, too shocked to speak.

“Do you get it? Because Cyno is my name, and ‘cy’ sounds a little bit like ‘I’ while ‘no’ sounds like ‘know’.”

Cyno watches as your features scrunch in a twist of disbelief, embarrassment, and fear. He internally chuckles, secretly delighting in the adorable expression adorning your face.

Your reactions are always priceless, worth more than the most precious of gold and the most luxurious of diamonds. Because basking in the splendor of your smile is true opulence.

“Okay, okay,” you giggle, the embers of mischief within your eyes flickering, “you win. Please stop with the puns. I can’t take it anymore.” Your tone is playful, light.

The corners of Cyno’s lips turn up slightly as a smile graces his features. He’s well aware that your exasperation is feigned — nothing more than an exaggeration fabricated in order to tease him a little. Besides, if you didn’t like his sense of humour, you wouldn’t even be dating him right now.

“Victory is mine,” Cyno speaks triumphantly in a tone full of a hyperbolic sort of grandeur.

He feels light-hearted for the first time in a while, and it’s in that moment, that fraction of a second, that Cyno realizes something.

Your presence is liberating.

When he’s with you, he’s free from the troubles of daily life. With you, the responsibilities that go hand-in-hand with his status are put on hold, allowing him some time to truly experience what it’s like to be unburdened. With you, he’s not the General Mahamatra, one of the most renowned figures within Sumeru.

He’s just Cyno.

He feels his grin widen as he opens his mouth to speak once more.

“I love you,” he repeats his words from earlier, his tone one of pure adoration and bliss. The beating of his heart picks up, setting a new tempo that seems just right for the moment, a perfect backing for a myriad of silent declarations.

That seems to do the trick because you admit defeat without hesitation and utter the same words back with an extra one following in tandem.

“I love you too.”

₊˚ପ HEIZOU

“Oh? Do you not love me anymore?” Heizou confronts the problem head-on, feigning sadness. A smirk spreads across his face when he sees your confused expression, but he manages to erase it in an instant, deceiving even the eyes of his partner.

You should have known better than to play a prank of this sort on him. After all, Heizou’s always been one to turn your tricks against you.

As soon as your eyes widen and your jaw drops, Heizou knows that he’s won. To his relief, you don’t notice the way his verdant pools of peridot sparkle with mischief. You’re too absorbed in your panic to sense that anything is off.

He has to continuously stifle bouts of laughter. Heizou finds your reactions slightly too cute.

“N-No! I didn’t mean it like that!” you blurt out in a tone laced with desperation. “I’m sorry. I should have known that you would have noticed something was off. You’re always so perceptive,” you speak sheepishly, averting your gaze. “I just wanted to see how you’d react if I didn’t say it back…”

Heizou chuckles.

“You’re too cute, darling,” he muses, staring you straight in the eyes. “Fortunately for you, my intuition told me that you were just messing with me.”

You groan.

“Of course you figured it out,” you sigh.

Heizou can’t help but mentally agree. He’s already used to solving mysteries, and the fact that the two of you are so close doesn’t quite work to your advantage. Your boyfriend knows you like the back of his hand, and unfortunately for you, he enjoys the thrill of piecing together the puzzles you craft in an attempt to elicit reactions from him.

“I think I deserve a reward for cracking this case,” he says, pointing a finger at his lips.

When Heizou sees your eyes light up, glowing with the opalescent radiance of a nebula, he knows he’s about to get what he wants.

With one quick movement, you lean in nervously to place a shy kiss on Heizou’s lips, clearly still embarrassed by your failure. When you pull away, you take a few steps backwards before gazing deep into your boyfriend’s eyes. In that moment, Heizou realizes that the sentiments swirling through your irises — feelings embodied by the warm hues of a dying sunset — are nothing but sincere.

₊˚ପ KAZUHA

Kazuha knows you’re teasing him. From the subtle grin you’re trying to hide to the mischievous light dancing within your star-flecked irises, it’s not difficult to discern that you’re teasing him.

But despite everything, he decides to play along.

“I love you,” he repeats, gently taking your hand in his. He plants a gentle kiss on the back of your hand, a charming habit more than a calculated measure.

Kazuha glances up at you and smiles — a gentle expression that lights up your day with rays of golden sunshine. In a single flash, your cheekiness vanishes, and instead, an awestruck gaze paints itself across your face.

Kazuha suppresses a giggle. Far too often, he finds himself enamoured with you, especially when you’re flustered. He attempts to memorize the sight before him, engraving every dip and curve of your facial features into his memories.

You’re just far too endearing for him to resist, and besides, you’re his muse. Kazuha isn’t exactly sure how he knows it, but somehow, he’s certain that someday this moment will undergo a metamorphosis within a hall of crystallized memories, transforming from a fond recollection of the past to strings of eloquently phrased words — a haiku.

You look absolutely captivated by him, and although he didn’t intentionally try to send your heart into a frenzy of vivid daydreams and rose-tinted adoration, he’s glad you find him so attractive. A few seconds pass before you give in.

“I love you too,” you whisper breathlessly, grinning at Kazuha before leaving for the day. As soon as you’re out the door, Kazuha chuckles, eyes containing the essence of autumn mingling with a bright moonglow, swirling with amusement.

“I love you more.”

₊˚ପ SCARAMOUCHE

Scaramouche is confused, but he tries his best not to show it. He’s fairly certain that the two of you haven’t argued recently, so why is it that you’re not reciprocating his affections?

Although Scaramouche acts like he doesn’t care sometimes, he knows all your small habits. And as your lover, he finds it odd that you aren’t uttering those three powerful words back. That coupled with the fact that it’s rather difficult for him to express his feelings makes him desperate for a response.

“Are you forgetting something?” he grumbles, not wanting to seem too desperate. Deep down, his emotions cause whirlwinds of conflicting thoughts to swirl in his mind.

He watches as you blink — slowly, gradually as if you want to stretch seconds into eons. A frown etches itself into his forehead, and he feels irritation begin to overtake his heart. Storm clouds, tinted an ominous grey, overwhelm the ambience.

Finally, after what feels like forever, you shake your head.

“I don’t think so,” you tell him.

Scaramouche’s features twist into a pout, and he crosses his arms in front of his chest. Yet at the same time, your boyfriend is embarrassed beyond measure. He feels his cheeks heating up, and he’s absolutely sure that shades of pink reminiscent of a sunrise have begun to dust his pale cheeks.

“Fine,” he breathes out, rolling his eyes and turning away. “Forget it. I’ll see you tonight.” Scaramouche tries to brush it off casually, attempting to erase the odd experience from memory.

He want nothing more than to hear you say those three words back, but he’s far too proud to admit it.

He nearly walks away before he feels a firm grip on his shoulder.

“Wait,” you say. “I was just kidding.”

Scaramouche groans. He turns around in order to face you.

“How irritating,” he sighs. He brushes his hair, silken strands spun of midnight, away from in front of his eyes. Scaramouche can’t believe you were able to sense his vulnerability.

You giggle upon seeing Scaramouche’s grumpy face.

“You owe me for this,” he states.

“I know,” you whisper, stepping closer to him and leaning in.

Scaramouche feels his breath hitch, and before he knows what’s happening, the sensation of your warm lips against his overwhelms his senses. Sparks fly in the edges of his vision, and soon enough, a passionate fire is set ablaze in a grand display of crimson elation.

Although you didn’t say anything in response when he told you he loved you, your wordless exchange of adoration speaks volumes.

I love you.

₊˚ପ XIAO

Xiao sucks in a quiet breath as you turn away from him. It’s not often that he expresses his affection verbally, and the fact that you’re barely responding to his declaration of love is unnerving.

He looks down, strands of seafoam obscuring his gaze, blocking eyes of honeyed amber from your line of sight. However, he raises his head after only a few seconds, attempting to ignore the feeling of unease creeping up on him, freezing his very being with a subtle chill. It’s barely there — a pain nowhere near the sting of a frostbite — yet it still eats away at him, reminding him again and again that something is wrong.

But although Xiao wants to ask you if anything’s bothering you or if he did something to upset you, he can’t. Translating his emotions into words feels far too difficult, especially because in all honestly, this situation is probably no big deal — or so he tells himself. Your nonchalance contrasts with his overthinking, causing doubt to well up within his mind.

In the end, he allows you to leave, wallowing within an aquamarine sea of thoughts. The world has been painted a watercolour blue. Although he refuses to admit it, melancholy overtakes Xiao’s heart, as he’s now both confused and lost.

Did he upset you?

The idea doesn’t seem too outlandish. Xiao’s never been good at interpreting emotions or expressing them, and it’s one of his greatest insecurities as your boyfriend. He’s gotten better over time, but there are times where he still worries about being too oblivious to your feelings.

Unfortunately for Xiao, you’re out for the day, so there’s plenty of time for negative thoughts to ruminate in his mind, festering until they reach the point of becoming a soulless black hole, draining every bit of confidence from him.

As the skies outside the glass windows of your shared home begin to tint with a rosy blush, and a golden light paints the world in shades of ephemeral warmth, Xiao becomes restless. You’ll be back any moment, and then, he’ll have to face you. Anticipation causes his heart to beat in a frenzy as the minute of your arrival approaches.

And sure enough, you return at the exact time you always do.

As soon as you walk through the door, Xiao walks over to greet you, gauging your reactions. When you see him, the corners of your lips turn up in an ethereal smile, and the rest of your face lights up.

Your delighted expression takes Xiao aback. He didn’t expect such a pleasant greeting after the events of this morning, but he brushes it off, allowing a grin to dance across his features in tandem, reciprocating your look of absolute adoration.

“I missed you,” he whispers, stepping closer to you in order to gently take your hand in his.

To assure himself that you’re here in the moment. That nothing’s wrong.

He sighs contently when you don’t pull away. The solace of your intertwined fingers is akin to the tidings of a viridescent spring after countless days of pure white dusting a panoramic landscape. It’s a breath of fresh air after eons spent hyperventilating in the frigidness of a crystallized wasteland, silently fading away amongst seas of sparkling snow.

Xiao can finally breathe again.

And when he laters asks why you didn’t return the three precious words he uttered under his breath earlier that day, as the sun had just begun bathing the world in aureate light, your answer causes his face to heat up.

It was nothing more than a prank.

disappearing back into my gremlin cave for another fifty years now!! thank you so much for reading!

#r.archives *ೃ༄#favoniuslibrary #alhaitham x reader #childe x reader #cyno x reader #scaramouche x reader #kazuha x reader #xiao x reader #heizou x reader #albedo x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin x you #genshin fluff

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animelovelover123 · 3 months

Note

Hey there! You don't have to answer, but what do you think (insert DMC charas of your choice) would do for Valentines Day? Love your work btw. Always makes my day when you post 🥰 Have a great evening

Devil May Cry Boys Valentine

Parings: Dante, Reboot Dante, Vergil, Reboot Vergil, Nero, V x Reader

Author Note: Thanks for the suggestion! I woke up late today (was up and down all night because of period pain) and when I saw this and started imagining scenarios it made me feel better. Hope you like it, happy Valentine’s Day/Singles Awareness Day!

Dante

This mans straight up forgot, like always. He is always forgetting dates and holidays, especially if he is out on a mission in some remote place so doesn’t have the typical festive decorations that litter stores to tip him off that some event is approaching. Even when he is at home though, sometimes he holes up in his house just eating delivery food and relaxing so the world outside and the passage of time goes on without him.

He scrambles to prepare something, anything.

What can he set up in less than a day? What do people do for Valentine’s Day? He is not used to having a partner.

Fancy restaurants? Can he get into any of those? No, they have all been booked months in advance.

Okay, candlelit dinner at home. Should he order something? No, that’s not special enough. So he should cook. He can cook, right? It can’t be that hard.

It was… it was hard.

Well while that disaster is on the way, what else can he do?

Flowers? Flowers sound nice. Again though, most florists are sold out of the traditional roses, but at least he can make his own with his demon abilities (see Lucifer from DMC4). How many does he make though? One? Six? A dozen? Well now Dante has enough roses to fill a hot tub but that’s fine, he can just sprinkle the petals around. What does he do with the stems? Uh… just throw them in the closet for now.

What else?

He should dress up! He still has a suit, right? Does it fit him still? He hasn’t worn it in years.

In the end, you have dinner with Dante who tries to act cool, despite the fact that he is in a suit that is two sizes too small, his food is a mushy mess (a good-tasting mush might I add but still), he nearly set the place on fire with the old candles he used, and you both have little nicks all over your hands from cleaning up the rose stems that came cascading out of the closet when you tried to hang up your coat.

He swears up and down that he will do better next year. Yes, it was a disaster, but by god he tried.

Reboot Dante

Dante is not into Valentine’s Day and how commercialized it is. Every ad, shop, and website proclaims that if you don’t buy your partner <insert product name here> then your relationship will fail. What bullshit.

But you know what is kind of fun? The day after.

Pounds and pounds of chocolate and sweets on sale for cheap.

Popular hangout spots mostly barren as everyone just went.

Bars and restaurants with half-used bottles of wine and champagne that are usually multiple tens of dollars a glass now being sold at a fraction of the price because it was quickly going stale.

Valentine-themed lingerie and sex toys practically being given away at stores.

So hold off on the celebration baby. Save that cash you would have spent.

The next day you and Dante will go on a shopping spree, buying more chocolate than you two could eat.

And as you two indulge in said chocolate, you can bounce from one place to the next, enjoying bougie alcohol at empty restaurants and practically having places like amusement parks, arcades, and waterparks all to yourselves.

And when you two get home, well you now have a drawer full of new lingerie and sex paraphernalia that Dante is dying to try. Which one does he want to try today? Oh no baby, you don’t get it. Dante wants to try them all.

Vergil

Vergil is the kind of man who did not see a point in doing anything special for Valentine’s Day. He gave you love and affection all year round, why would doing something specifically on this one day mean more than any other?

But if you show even the slightest sliver of disappointment at this, he will do something. Nothing basic though. If he was going to go out of his way for this then he was going to be extra about it.

So on the day he picks you up from work, school, or just your home, in a limo.

He takes you to a dress and suit rental shop filled with gowns and suits of all styles and colours. He also made sure to find a rental place that also offered accessories so jewellery, headdresses, and shoes were also available.

He will not exert his will over your choice, but he does want to be present for you trying things on and he will suggest some things. He claims that he simply wants to make sure you are presentable, but he secretly is having a lot of fun seeing you in different styles, patterns, and colours. He takes mental notes of what kind of things you look good in so he can get them for you later.

Once you pick out whatever you like he takes you to a dance hall where a ball is being held. Men, women, and everyone in between are dressed to the nines and dance around the room to live music. The way the lights shine, the glitter of jewels sparkle, and the fabric of all the dresses swish around creating a dream-like atmosphere.

Vergil will lead you in multiple dances. If you seem nervous or mess up the steps, he does not criticize you. He brushes it off as there is no need to worry. Yes, this was an elegant ball, but that should not restrict you. He did not bring you here to try to force you to act fancy.

He brought you here to make you happy, and that’s all he cares about. Not just today, but every day.

Reboot Vergil

This man is always working and unfortunately does not spend a lot of one-on-one time with you. He makes exceptions for special events though, such as your birthday, anniversaries, and Valentine’s Day.

He will spend time with you for these events. Note, though, that the likelihood of Vergil actually spending the specific day with you is low. His social life must work around his work, he warned you of this before you started dating. So your Valintine’s Day celebration will happen in about a month's vicinity of February 14th.

When the time comes though, Vergil spares no expense. Literally, this man is loaded and he will use this opportunity to shower you with luxury and attention to make up for all the time he spends working.

We are talking about a multi-day vacation to anywhere in the world you want to go to do whatever you want. And you know exactly where you are going because you are the one that planned it all. Again, Vergil is a very busy man.

This isn't to say he will not have a few surprises in store for you.

Despite what it may seem, when you are talking at him while he is typing away on his computer he is listening. He has a specific file on his computer that lists all of the things you are interested in and said you wanted and will secretly add to it while you talk.

The surprises he gets you for Valentine’s Day will be extravagant, not a simple book or game you have been interested in. He just buys those for you whenever they come up, if you don’t take the initiative and get it yourself with his card. So be ready for things like private concerts from your favourite singer and/or group, getting to play the beta version of an unreleased game you have been waiting years for, or getting to play a minor role in an episode or two of your favourite TV show.

The time you two had together would be relatively brief, as only a few days were scheduled and he reminded you that he would have to return to work as soon as possible.

It was almost two weeks later when he could finally pull himself away from you.

Nero

A traditional lover from a traditional city and religion.

Even if Nero was not really into the rules and restrictions of The Order of the Sword, some of his beliefs did line up with theirs.

For example, Nero wasn’t interested in getting you something sexy for Valentine’s Day as he felt it was a bit sleazy and he worried that it would give off the impression that he was only interested in sex. However, if you are the one to gift him with a special something something in the bedroom then he will be all for it.

No, Nero wanted to keep things clean and simple.

Flowers, chocolates, and a card filled with some personal and deep feelings that you better not tell anyone about because he would die of embarrassment if it got out.

He’ll take you out on a date, but not to a restaurant or anything. Instead, he planned a picnic for you two. He made all the food himself, with minimal help from Kyrie. Mainly she just acted as a recipe book and made sure everything he made was safe to eat. Nero was a decent cook, but he did not want to risk making you sick. It may not look immaculate (he doesn’t have a normal right arm, give him a break) but it tasted great.

On the day he will take you out of town, somewhere nice and natural. A peaceful place with a beautiful view and no one around for miles that can get in the way of you two being together.

This will be the first Valentine’s Day V ever celebrates, period. He knows of the day, of course, and many of the traditions that accompany it. But he has never gotten to experience them.

It was also a bit troublesome as many of the typical Valentine’s Day activities, such as fancy dinners, either at home or going out, giving flowers and reciting poetry were things V did for you regularly.

So if days with him are already filled with elegance and refined shows of affection, how would he make this day special? Well, he will do the opposite.

V invites you to make homemade chocolates with him. With his lack of experience, it is a messy task and the finished product is far from immaculate, but that did not matter to him.

He could clean later and his familiars could eat any mistakes created. (They were demons, they could eat chocolate despite their animal forms.)

What mattered was experiencing something new with you. To spend the day working together, laughing at the mess-ups and sharing the prideful joy of success.

And he also quickly discovered the appeal of licking chocolate off each other.

#devil may cry imagine #devil may cry x reader #dante x reader #nero x reader #v x reader #vergil x reader #reboot dante x reader #reboot vergil x reader #valentines day

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meabh-mcinness · 1 month

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A Holiday Treat 18+

Warnings! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! This is an 18+ piece whose entirety is just smut.

Now that that's out of the way, time for the second half of the warnings. This fic includes: Dom!Opera, Switch!Reader, Sub!Kalego, voyeurism, bondage, holding down, teasing, clawing, biting, hair pulling, oral both giving and receiving, fingering, vaginal penetration, pet names, knife-play, blood-play(but not really), cock ring, knotting, aftercare!

Summary: Me and my friends are spiritual whores. Happy late holidays. Enjoy this filthiness.

Kalego x Opera x Chubby AFABReader

Kalego squirmed as your hands ran down his thighs. Legs pulling helplessly at the restraints tied around his limbs, hands and ankles not even moving a millimetre despite using all his strength against Opera's. Whimpers and pleas spilt from his mouth for more. To touch him where he wants it the most.

You both ignored him.

Instead, you focused on tracing the femoral artery in his thigh with your nails before leaning over to lick and suck your way from his knee back up towards his pelvis. Once again, you avoided the one area he wanted the most attention, coming up at the last second to repeat the same action on his other thigh. It wouldn't be as much fun if he got what he wanted, and you all knew it.

Looking up when you heard shifting, you saw Opera moving so that they were using their legs to hold down Kalego's arms as they leaned over themselves to kiss him. Their hands gently held his head in place before reaching up as far as they comfortably could down his abdomen -- reaching either side of where his cock bobbed just under his navel -- and lightly dragged their nails back up towards them. Thin lines appeared in their wake, slowly welling with the thick red liquid that gave Kalego life. The groan Kalego let out was swallowed by Opera as they took advantage of Kalego's open mouth.

You, in turn, brought your attention back to his thighs. Unlike your demonic lovers, your nails weren't built as well for tearing into skin -- cleanly, that was. You could certainly gouge flesh out if you wanted, but this was neither the time nor place for such acts. Instead, you reached down to your garter and pulled out a shiny dagger, the hilt carved from a Netherworld gem called Hemolite -- which looked like a beautiful swirling mixture of amethyst and ruby -- a courting gift from Opera. You brought the cool metal and ran it along the femoral artery, tracing the many branching paths that it took, careful to never nick any of them.

You watched as his muscles seized and grew taut with each pass you made. Waiting, anticipating, for when the blade would press into his flesh as well. You took your time choosing. Would you do it here, you pressed the metal harder into him, just barely avoiding splitting his flesh open, directly down the middle of his thigh. Or perhaps here, along one of the many branching paths of smaller veins that your dagger twisted and danced across. Or, as your eyes flicked up, you could do it somewhere else entirely.

With a smirk on your face, you climbed up slightly higher, letting the knife trail from back up his thigh until you reached his throbbing member. The blade moved just above the metal ring wrapped around his cock before slowly grazing up to the tip. You let it circle around the head, just barely letting the metal graze him until you made a quick shallow cut along the edge. Kalego let out a choked gasp as blood welled to the surface of the cut and dribbled down, mixing with the pre suddenly leaking from his cock, turning a light pinkish colour.

Your eyes watched it trail down before you leaned down to drag your tongue up his cock, catching the liquid as you followed the path back up to the tip. Kalego's thigh tensed around you and you heard him make a deep guttural moan from above you as your tongue worked to clean the mess you had made. Your hand dropped the dagger and moved to grip the base, using your saliva as a lubricant to smoothly move up and down slightly. Your tongue making kitten licks and tiny swirls around the tip of his head, listening to his groans and pants into Opera's mouth and the rattling of the chains around his legs as they twitched.

Deciding you had teased him enough, you opened your mouth further, flattening your tongue and engulfed the entirety of the head. You heard Kalego shout the sudden change, felt his hips lift as much as they could to try and force you into taking him deeper, chasing the feeling to spread to his entire cock. The resulting act caused you to choke a little and you heard Opera hiss in warning as your hand moved from his member to dig your nails into the line where his thighs met his pelvis for your own threat. Kalego whimpered but reluctantly listened and lowered his hips back down.

With Kalego tamed for the moment you turned your focus back to the thick piece of meat pulsing in your mouth. Raising your head, a little again you gave the tip another swipe of your tongue before lowering again. Every time you raised your head you would drag your tongue along the underside of his shaft before swirling around the head and going back down again, taking more and more of his dick in your mouth with each pass. Over and over again you bobbed your head, pre and drool leaking out of your mouth and down his throbbing member, taking more and more of him in until eventually you felt the head hit the entrance to your throat, with still a few more inches of him left to go.

You had a sudden decision you had to make now. You could just continue as you had been, simply bobbing your head and listening to the mewls and whimpers coming from Kalego, or you could take it a step further. Well, you had never been a coward.

As you came back up this time, you took advantage to rearrange your body. Throwing both of your arms so that your elbows were perched on his hips it was easy to place one hand to wrap back around the base of his cock and the other underneath to cup his balls that were so desperate to blow a load but couldn't do so due to the cool metal rings looped around them. With a devilish smirk on your face, you lowered your head once more until you felt the head bob the back of your throat again – and then you swallowed.

You felt the head pop into your throat, heard Kalego give a deep snarl and felt his balls tense in your hand as you roll them around. Could feel as they tried so hard to empty themselves into your stomach but were stopped by the cock ring even as Kalego bucked and whimpered underneath you. Begging the both of you to just let him go, to please let him cum. You almost choked as he moved underneath you, not fully expecting his throbbing member to force itself further into your throat but swallowed around him again just in time.

You nearly choked again, this time in surprise, around Kalego's cock at the sudden pulling sensation of your hair, light pain pulsing where the strands attached to your head. For a second you thought Opera had let Kalego go, only to pull up, drool and pre-cum dripping from your lips, to see Opera's face in front of your own. Kalego whined at the loss as Opera pulled you closer. Their tongue darted out to lick up the mess on your chin and lips before drawing you in for a deep kiss, the rich taste of Kalego's blood mixing in with the saltiness of his pre and Opera's own unique taste. You moaned at the taste, hands reaching out to cup Opera's face as you both fought for dominance. Opera always won, but that didn't mean you wouldn't try.

The prize, while running along the same veins, was always different. This time it was you, as their arms circled your waist, digging into your soft flesh before lifting and turning you in one smooth motion, before dropping you on your back right next to Kalego. A short squeal left you as you fell, followed by an 'oof' when you landed.

You felt the mattress dip below you and spread your legs as you looked up to see Opera towards you from the bottom of the bed. You blinked in confusion before glancing over at Kalego to see his arms had now also been restrained by the same cuffs and chains that held his legs down, his eyes, lidded and glazed over, but still sharp as they never left Opera's form as they came closer to you. You had know Opera was fast, but this speed bordered on ridiculousness.

Your own eyes trailed back to Opera as their shoulders nudged your legs further apart, tongue darting out briefly to lick their lips as they stared directly into your eyes. It was unfair how unfazed they looked despite the slight flush to their pale cheeks and loosely tussled hair. You already knew both you and Kalego looked super flushed and dazed out. And it would only get worse you concluded, as Opera lowered the front half of their body down so that their arms braced under your upper thighs and hoisted your lower legs up so that your feet rested on their back.

Their eyes stayed locked on yours as their face lowered even further, the feline demon's eyes just barely being seen over the chub of your stomach where their clawed hands rested. Hands which were gripping and releasing your flesh over and over again like an actual cat kneading. They were far more careful with their nails on you then either of you had been with Kalego. Not once did they draw blood or even leave angry trails behind. Their hands trailed down your gut before settling themselves around the flesh of your thighs.

Their long digits pressed themselves into skin causing your fat to ident and overlap on itself around them as their claws threatened to rip it open and expose your lifeblood that was the same colour of their hair, forcing your legs to stay open as their head dipped low. Their fire like eyes stared into yours, never wavering even when yours closed with an accompanying gasp escaping you as their tongue poked out and ran along your slit.

You couldn't help squirming at the feeling of the rough bumps along their tongue scraping against your flesh as it ran up before soothing out the pain by running the smooth underside of their tongue back down again. Whimpers fell from your mouth as they repeated the action over and over again before you suddenly jolted at the sensation of pleasure that ran through your veins as that rough tongue scraped itself over the bud poking out of your slit.

Mewls and pleads tore from you as you begged them to do it again, hands pulling at their horns as you tried to direct them towards it. Considering the differences in strength between the two of you, they hardly even moved beyond their tongue continuing its original path. Never mind that you were pulling as hard as possible, they didn't budge an inch and simply continued in torturing you slowly, always just barely brushing the edge of your clit but never fully touching it.

Briefly your mind considered simply ordering them to do it, but you had long since learned that despite being Opera's mistress, it was them who was in control of these sessions.

Finally, after dozens of pleas left your lips for more, Opera's fingers repositioned themselves to reach past your stomach and hold your lower lips open. The sudden full exposure against the cold air coupled with Opera's warmer breath sent shivers down your spine until your entire body seized as their tongue made its first swipe up your clit. It was nothing much really, just a little kitten swipe up but it had sent floods of pleasure through you and wanting more. Even voicing as such with whimpers puncturing your every word until Opera deigned to give another swipe. An then another, and another until they were focusing all of their attention around playing with your bud with their tongue.

Poking, prodding, and swiping this way and that around your clit and never once letting up now that they had decided to go for it. After going so long without any touch the sudden onslaught was almost to much for you. Tears pooled around your eyes as your body squirmed at Opera's ministrations, pants escaping your mouth every second you were trapped beneath them. Your body was coiling tighter and tighter, a warmth in your core flaring so bright and you were so close –

Opera pulled away suddenly.

The wordless cry you let out at the lack of feeling almost made you actually cry. You supposed it was karma for what you had pulled with Kalego, who you could see watching the both of you with rapt attention from the corner of your eyes, but that didn't mean you felt it was fair. Your hands clutched at Opera's horns in desperation to let you finish. You had been so close and you wanted that orgasm to flush through your body so badly.

Whimpers and pleas fell from your lips until you felt the tongue swipe return, except it was far lower than you had been expecting and your entire body jolted at the sensation, eyes going wide in surprise. Their tongue once again lowered itself to the bottom of your lower lips and ran up its length before giving your clit a little flick at the end.

A low groan left you as their appendage forced your lips open and snuck its way inside. Forcing your core to spread and stretch itself around the muscle. A muscle that was far longer and more prehensile than it had any right to be, you concluded, as it moved this way and that inside of you. Wiggling and writhing and somehow managing to hit every spot that needed to be hit until you were once again a squirming and panting mess above them.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream as warmth rushed through your veins. Your back arched, fingers and toes curling in tandem with the clenching of your cunt, trying its hardest to milk Opera's tongue for something that would never come. Your hands, clutching their horns in what would be a death grip for anyone else, but didn't present even the slightest bit of a challenge to them as they lifted their head back slightly to be able to clean your lowers lips with their tongue. The ruff bumps adding an extra sensation that your body couldn't decide if it was too much or just right.

It was your turn to whimper as Opera moved away, their tongue doing one last swipe up your overly sensitive clit as your body wracked and shivered in the aftermath of your orgasm. You laid there dazed and floating, barely registering as Opera nuzzled into your neck with anything more than mewls. It even took your brain a few moments to realize they were also contorting your body into a different position, not fully realizing until your face was smushed into the pillow, your hands weakly grabbing at the soft fabric. Your back was arched and knees bent so that your arse was presented to the world.

You squeaked in surprise as large hands suddenly grasped your hips and felt something thick swipe along your entrance and heard Opera hiss again along with Kalego's yelp and the hands were gone just as quickly. Daring a glance back you saw Kalego sitting up on his knees behind you, Opera towering behind him with their hand wrapped in his hair and forcing his head back so that his neck was exposed to Opera's sharp claws. Opera's mouth was bent close to Kalego's ear and appeared to be hissing something in his ear. Forcing your way through the fuzzy headspace you caught the end of it, "-t slowly Kalego-kun."

You saw Kalego's throat bob and watched as he tried to nod his agreement before gasping out a "yes senpai." You could only assume Opera had tightened their grip on Kalego's hair to cause the gasp. Suddenly Opera let go and Kalego was forced to catch himself by clutching your hips again, the thin digits grasping harshly into your plump flesh and sharp claws even nicking your skin a little. You couldn't help the little 'oof' you let out as your body was forced forward slightly and the side of your face was smushed against the pillow. Even with your face in this position, you could still glance back behind you, only to widen your eyes at the sight.

Kalego had managed to straighten himself back up, though he was still folded inward slightly, likely due to Opera, who was curled flush around his back. One of their hands was around Kalego's chest fiddling with his nipple and leaving more claw marks around the areola as they circled it. One claw even nicked the nipple itself, leaving blood to well up and drip down his chest. Opera's other hand, however, was wrapped firmly around the based of Kalego's cock. It took a moment to realize that their fingers were also deftly moving, only fully registering when you saw a flash of metal fall before feeling the thump of it hitting the bed.

Opera had removed the cock ring.

You unconsciously bury yourself deeper into the pillow and spread your legs wider at the knowledge, consequently raising your arse higher, catching both of their attention. With half-lidded eyes you watched Opera's hand leave Kalego's nipple, a small amount of blood dripping from their claws before it lowered to out of your view. You gave a small jolt as you felt said claws run down your sensitive slit before spreading you back open again. A shiver ran through your body as you felt run up and down over and over again before you suddenly bit down into the pillow at the feeling of being punctured.

Opera's slim finger squeezed inside of you slowly but surely, your cunt clutching onto it easily and eagerly sucking it in more despite still quivering from what their mouth had down to you just moments before. You mewled in both pain and pleasure at the feeling of oversensitivity as the finger inside you started making a come-hither motion before it was joined by a second. Your hands gripped the pillow harder, your body shivering as Opera's fingers continued spreading you open, and apart. Constantly flicking and moving about, stretching you out and preparing you for what was coming next.

Then just as quickly as they had entered you they were gone. Leaving behind a feeling of complete emptiness in you and half a mind to beg them to come back. To enter you again and take the hollowness away once more. You were even about to open your mouth to do so when your words were replaced with a startled gasp as something far larger drug itself up and down your slit, coating itself in your juices and teasing you with what you wanted.

You turned your head slightly so that you could see behind you better and sent a glare towards the two demons behind you. 'Quit teasing me,' you tried to say with it, 'or I'll take matters into my own hands.' Kalego simply lifted an eyebrow, his mouth smirking in response from around Opera's fingers. It was his turn to you it appeared.

Greedily licking each digit thoroughly to clean up any last traces of you as his hips once more shallowing moved. With a huff you settled back in, knowing Opera wouldn't allow either of you reprieve until they felt their fingers had been cleaned of every last trace of you.

But you had a trick up your non-existent sleeve.

Clutching your hands into fists, you looked back over shoulder with wide eyes and a pout on your lips as you watched Kalego's tongue dance around Opera's sleek fingers, chasing every last drop of your juices that he could. When at last Opera's digits were cleaned of all traces of you and replaced with only Kalego's saliva they withdrew from his mouth, a small stream of spittle stringing itself along to follow the path and leaving you gulping at the sight.

Seeing Kalego suitably distracted, you caught Opera's eyes over his shoulder and watched the almost imperceptible nod. Always five steps ahead that Opera.

As Kalego went to tease you again you forced your hips backwards, just enough pressure that it forced the bulbous head inside and stretched you apart even further that Opera's fingers had. You whimpered at the feeling, but let out a strangled yelp as Kalego snarled and clasped your hips even tighter, claws almost breaking skin as they sunk into the plumpness of your flesh.

You whimpered and whined as Kalego continued to fill you up slowly, your flesh still sensitive from Opera's onslaught earlier, but still greedily wanting every inch he could give you. Suddenly the feline demon was beside you, hand brushing through your hair and whispering reassurances.

You're doing so well.

Look at you take him perfectly.

Such a good girl.

Just a little more to go darling.

Finally, when you felt so full and as if you could take nothing else, Kalego bottomed out. Hips flush to your arse and hands gripping right above your plush hips as he patiently waited for you to get use to him. You shivered and shook at the slightly overwhelming feeling of being stretched so pleasantly, Opera still whispering in your ear and claws untangling the knots in your hair as they brushed through. Eventually after a minute, or perhaps two, you felt your body finally give up its tantrum and give in to receiving more pleasure. Giving your hips an experimental wiggle -- Kalego letting out a moan at the feeling but obediently staying put until either you or Opera gave the okay -- you found nothing but a twinge of pleasure. Doing it once more to make sure you were truly OK, you let out a low moan as you accidentally hit, what you thought was your cervix, dead on. With a nod to Opera, you braced yourself. Opera may be the powerhouses of the group, but Kalego was no slouch either.

And this fact was quickly proven true as Kalego slowly pulled out, your body shivering at the feeling and your core walls clutching him tightly, refusing to give up their prize even when he was almost all the way out and then suddenly you were full again. A gasp tearing from you abruptly as you were pushed forward slightly from the strength of it. You barely had time to wrap your head around it as he set a fast and brutal pace to your innards. All of your and Opera's teasing had clearly affected him as he seemed to desperately chase the both of your climaxes.

You were already both so sensitive that it hadn't lasted long, not that you were disappointed. As much as were willing to have your insides pummled all night long, you could already feel your body tightening again and when Kalego paused for just a second to angle himself to hit that spot inside you, could feel as he found it harder and harder to fit all of himself in you as his knot swelled further until he gripped your hips tightly, and it was certainly going to be bruised in the morning with that strength, and forced all of himself into you – knot and all.

White spots scattered against your vision and your cunt clenched rhythmically around him. A feeling of warmth settled deep into your gut as came inside of you and you couldn't help the groan at the feeling. All you knew was pleasure. Pleasure racing through your veins, pleasure spanning its way from your cunt outwards and toes and fingers clenching at the overwhelmingness of all of it. You were so distracted by your orgasm that you almost didn't notice Kalego's hands moving from your hips to wrap around your shoulders as he laid out his entire body of yours and forced you to lay on your side, tucked into his arms.

Your body racked itself with shivers as the euphoric feelings of an orgasm left you. You were overtly aware of the feeling of being stretched out by Kalego's knot, of his long arms digging into your soft stomach to hold you taunt against his warm body. You jolted a little in both surprise and sensitivity at the feeling of your hair being pushed back from your face. You let out a quiet mewl, as if to say no more – even weakly trying to push the hand away with your own. You sighed in relief as the hand left you alone. In the long run of things, you hadn't done much, but it was amazing how much these two demons could overwhelm you and your body by having you do very little.

So much for human stamina.

Suddenly the hand was back, pushing your hair away again as you groaned in protest only to sigh in relief as it was replaced with a cool cloth. The cloth brushed against you in small gentle strokes, brushing away all the sweat, blood, and other things that had collected on your body. The icy coldness of the cloth felt so good against your overheated skin that if you had the energy you would lean into it. Cracking open your eyes just barely, you could see the blurry image of a pale being with red hair and a black blob moving with them.

Closing your eyes again you settled back in as Opera continued rubbing your body down. Methodically moving up and down your skin with the cold cloth and leaving nothing but a pleasant cooldown in their wake. A soft sigh left you as your body and mind started shutting down and getting closer and closer to falling asleep under Opera's careful movements while being wrapped in Kalego's arms.

You let out a whimper of pain as Kalego suddenly jerked from behind, the resulting movement of the still hard cock inside you causing more pain than pleasure for once. His arms squeezed you tightly and he nuzzled into your neck, whispering apologies into your ear as his hands rubbed in methodical movements around your stomach, tracing random patterns into your skin as he calmed you back down. Under the watchful eye of your two demonic partners your eyes closed for a final time that night, wrapped and filled in your two favourite demons.

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year

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Cater, Floyd: New Year, New Me

Cater Diamond has some of the most consistently photogenic initial artwork 😩 Everyone else, take notes!!

bxsvsjwbwk The reasoning Cater gave for why astrology is his best subject… I didn’t think he’d bring up horoscopes as icebreakers, but in hindsight it makes a lot of sense for his character! I feel like I’ve really come to appreciate Cater’s character these past few years, especially his social intelligence.

For this piece, I wanted Floyd to pose a challenge to Cater! There’s less of a focus on Cater’s thoughts and feelings and more on how he deals with his interviewer and uses his abilities to be evasive against such a formidable foe.

A Boy in Bloom, and his Flowering Future.

"What do you want to do in the coming year?"

“Ooh, that’s a toughie!” Cater curled a lock of hair around one finger, contemplating. “There’s just so many places I want to see and so many things I want to try out!“

“Well, just pick one. Shouldn’t matter which it is. Or you can just shout’m all out, that works too.”

“Ahaha, something tells me you aren’t taking this interview all that seriously, Floyd-kun!” Cater’s gaze trailed his tresses—the tangerine-colored strands wrapped around a forefinger. “… Mmm, okay. I’ve got it now! I think I’d like to try out different hairstyles 🎵

“I’m always wearing my hair the same few ways, down or in a pompadour. It might be fun to experiment and change up my look. Maybe I’ll go for something that totally changes my image! I was flipping through a fashion mag the other day and say some awesome looks.”

Floyd’s eyes glinted with interest. “I say go big or go home. Fully commit to the bid, Sea Bream-kun. Why stop at just the hair? Surprise us all. Make it as dramatic as you can, then pick out cool duds to go with it. Some spiked leather boots oughtta go nice with a spiked hairdo!! Slap on some heavy stage makeup too, you’ll look crazy cool.”

“Whoa, whoa, that’s a bit much, isn’t it?!”

“… Hah?” A dark shadow crossed Floyd’s lax features. “You sayin’ you don’t like my ideas?”

Cater paled and hastily backpedaled. “Nah, it’s not that! It’s just that what’s in fashion comes and goes so fast, it’s hard to keep up with it.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t really get that.” Floyd (thankfully) let the topic drop, but he soon moved to another one. “You care too much about what other people think. You should just wear whatever you feel like.“

“Image is so important when you’re a Magicammer!” Cater sighed. “Everything you post on your account gets seen by thousands and thousands of people, you know?”

“I just kinda post whatever."

"For real?! But your social media profile's how a lot of people will get their first impression of you. It tells your story. That's why I work so hard on mine! I'm always looking up fads so I can have something to share.”

“You really care too much,” Floyd griped, carefully eyeing his upperclassman. “What, you not happy with how people think of you now? You gotta change yourself to be what they want you to be?”

“That's... Man, you're putting me on the spot here! Chill out, this is an interview, not an interrogation," Cater joked, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck.

Floyd shrugged. "I don't see what's so great about doin' stuff just because other people want you to. I ignore Azul and Jade all the time, and that makes things way more fun for me."

“It sounds like it also makes things way less fun for them... It's nice that you can be so free-spirited though!"

“You should try it sometime. Bail out on Goldfishy and see how red in the face he gets~ That’ll be something new and interesting for your followers to see!!”

“I think I’d like to keep my head, thanks.”

It was a back and forth between them, aggressive strikes from Floyd that Cater tip-toed around with social grace. With each exchange, the tension tightened and tightened, until it was so taut that it threatened to snap.

And snap it did.

“Not cool, Sea Bream-kun.” Floyd suddenly frowned and folded his arms. “You’re such a liar. You talked big about how you tell your story online, but really you cherry pick. You hide tons of the other stuff cuz you’re afraid to cut loose and show it all.”

“Eeeeh, Cay-kun’s got nothing to hide!”

The birthday boy flashed his most winsome smile. His heart thundered in spite of it, the cards close to his chest rattling.

“Food pics, selfies, and cool scenery just get more likes and shares than other things do. They’re relatable content. That’s how you get those clicks, strike up a convo, and find new friends! It’s all about matching their pace and making those connections.”

“Bleh.” Floyd’s nose crinkled as he made a face. “First all the horoscope junk as icebreakers, now this… You sure are weird.”

“We’ve been talking for this long though. I’d still call that mission successful, horoscopes or not,” Cater teased with a wink, “so I’ll forgive you this once, okay?”

“Do whatever. It’s not my problem.” The merman threw his arms up, stretching. “We done yet? I did my job, and I’m getting bored of this already.”

“You’re dropping me faster than yesterday’s trending tags?! Harsh…”

The boys were interrupted by a beam of light breaking the horizon. One by one, rays of sun streaked the sky, chasing away the darkness.

It was the dawn of a new day beckoning to them.

To him.

“Looks like that’s my cue.” Cater slid onto his broom and crossed his legs—but passed Floyd a bright-eye look. The broom fluttered with magical sparks, floating a few centimeters off the ground. “Oh, right! Can you do me a huge favor?”

“Depends on what it is and if I’m feeling nice or not.”

“Be sure to take some good shots of me as I’m flying the Birthday Road! Send them over or tag me in them!”

“What happened to changing your style? Gave up on it already?”

“My looks, not my whole Magicam! And besides…”

Cater’s mouth twisted with mischief, his snaggle tooth peering out—and for a second, Floyd swore he saw someone different. The real Cater Diamond.

“This is a once-a-year spectacle you won’t want to miss.”

He sailed on high, the wind throwing back his hair, the sunrise spilling onto his skin. Fabric billowed out behind him, his wizarding cap flailing. The world unfolded below him like a hand of playing cards, and he, a mere suit in it.

Cater raised a hand and shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun. It was harsh and discerning, yet warm and comforting against the cold winter. Many things at once, and ever changing.

His smile was soft and quiet.

Here, there was no Magicam, no mask he needed to wear. No gaudy personas, no bubbly pretenses.

Only every single side of him converging as one, just like the rays of the sun.

#itwst #twisted wonderland #Cater Diamond #Floyd Leech #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #Cater birthday takeover #spoilers #something no ones asked for #disney twisted wonderland

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drakothedragon55 · 9 months

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You remember the devlogs from Kaycee’s Mod? Well, here’s my spin on them for the Apocalyption AU. If they were real, they’d be accessible without Kaycee’s Mod (though still needing to be unlocked.)

— Devlogs and DATA (Part 1/2) —

LOG 1

Today I finally get to do something meaningful with this company. From the day they hired me, all I got to do was bug hunt and playtest weird games from franchises that no one has even heard of.

I know that I’m not the most experienced coder out there, but come on! I can do so much more than what they’re letting me.

Anyways, they’re letting me work on this new project. Inscription, I believe it’s called? I know virtually nothing about it. But hey. I’m sure It’l be more fun than reporting glitches all day.

LOG 2

It’s been a day or two since I started working on Inscryption, and I have to admit: it seems promising. I mean, how many virtual card games are out there? At least it’s not an UNO clone.

I’ve only done small things so far like making sure that certain animations display properly. It’s another 2D game, just like GameFuna’s previous works, but it looks like some 3D stuff will be implemented later on, which is cool.

I’m considering poking around the files when I get the chance. Wonder what other neat stuff I can find in here before it’s inevitably left on the cutting room floor.

LOG 3

So, I was looking through some folders when I found this file that looked out of place. It was labelled as ‘OL_CARD.zip’, so I decided to unzip it. What I got was a single exe file that did nothing when opened. Must’ve been a card placeholder or something?

Anyways, I left it alone because the last thing I want is some higher-up getting mad at me for ‘tampering with the game.’ Besides. I kinda want to look into it some more.

Now all I gotta do is find it. Call me crazy, but it’s not in the folder I last saw it in. I swear, I’m gonna be seriously angry if this is some virus.

LOG 4

ITS FUCKING ALIVE HOLY SHIT

LOG 5

Note to self: redo log 4.

I still don’t know what’s going on, but when I booted up Inscryption, there was this red mass of pixels right outside Leshy’s cabin. I tried interacting with it, and a text box full of gibberish showed up.

I decided to ignore it and check up on the scrybe, and I found that Leshy seemed…off. His personality still isn’t very fleshed out, but he seemed to be on edge. The other NPCs in the area were, too. That’s when I shut off the game.

But that damn red thing was on my desktop now. It couldn’t open a text box with Inscryption closed, so it opened Notepad instead. Let me copy and paste what it said.

H̷e̶l̴l̷o̶ ̴t̴h̴e̸r̸e̵!̸ ̵:̸)̶

I wish I was making this up. Is this some kind of advanced AI? If so, why are they keeping it hidden in this random-freaking file tucked away in the back of a card game?

I have so many questions. And a part of me wants to ask this thing for answers.

LOG 6

Out of every single employee, I’m the one who gets the haunted game. Seems about right considering my luck.

Well, I’m not sure if this thing is a ghost or not. I’ve been talking to ‘Olcard’ by adding text into the code, and it’s been responding with those bugged text boxes. At least it’s getting better at using them.

Whatever it is, it’s really curious about the game and its development. I’ve asked my fellow coders if anything similar is happening to them, and they all give me weird looks. I’m half expecting to wake up any minute now.

I’ve finished up Leshy’s area and I’m working on Grimora’s next. Olcard gave me some good tips when I got stuck, so I think keeping him around a little while longer wouldn’t hurt anyone.

#apocalyption #inscryption au #story #part one #kaycee #OL_CARD #oc #long post

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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 2 years

Text

Surprise Proposal ~Will you marry me?~ (Vlad)

Chapter 1

One sunny afternoon―

Mitsuki: "Welcome. What kind of flowers are you looking for?"

Today, I'm helping my lover, Vlad, with his florist work.

Man: "A friend of mine just opened a store, and I thought I'd bring him some flowers to celebrate.”

Man: "I'm not familiar with flowers, so I don't know which ones are good."

Vlad: "Then I would recommend this flower."

Vlad listens to the customer's requests and carefully arranges the bouquet.

(Working with him like this is so much fun!)

I find it exciting to see how each flower magically becomes one beautiful bouquet in his hands.

(I'll try my best to help, too!)

I smile and call out for customers with that thought.

Mitsuki: "Hm?"

Suddenly, I catch a glimpse of a little boy out of the corner of my eye.

(Is he alone? Maybe he's lost?)

Vlad: "Mitsuki?"

Mitsuki: "Sorry, just a minute."

After saying a few words to him, I run over to the boy.

Mitsuki: "What's wrong? Are you alone?"

He looks up, and I notice that he’s crying.

Mitsuki: "If you want, you can use this. You don't have to give it back."

I pull a handkerchief out of my pocket and offer it to him.

Boy: "T-Thank you."

Mitsuki: "Did something sad happen to you? If you like, you can tell me."

The boy wipes away his tears and speaks up.

Boy: "I fought with my mom, so I ran away from home."

Boy: "But I said too many things to her."

Boy: "I want to make up with her, but I don't know how to apologize."

Vlad: "Then how about giving her flowers?"

Vlad walks up to him and bends down to speak gently to the boy.

Vlad: "If you give her flowers she likes and tell her how you honestly feel, I'm sure you two will make up."

Mitsuki: "He's right. What kind of flowers does your mother like?"

Boy: "Um, red flowers. But I don't have any money."

Vlad: "No need to pay for it. I'm sure the flowers will be happy if they can help you make up."

Vlad tells him and makes a bouquet for the boy.

Boy: "Thank you so much, big sis and big brother!"

The boy with the bouquet smiles and waves as he leaves.

As I walk alongside Vlad after seeing the boy off, he suddenly mutters something next to me.

Vlad: "Mitsuki. You're really kind."

Mitsuki: "You're the one being kind. You made him a beautiful bouquet."

Vlad: "But you were the first one to notice and the first one to run to him."

Vlad: "And that handkerchief you gave him, isn't that the one you used to carry around with you and liked?"

(Sure, that handkerchief was my favorite, but...)

Mitsuki: "If I could help him smile, even just a little bit, then it's okay."

(I don't want a little kid like him to look sad.)

The smile he showed me at the end is worth the handkerchief.

Vlad gently narrows his eyes at me as I answer him.

Vlad: "You always bring happiness to everyone around you."

Mitsuki: "You're overreacting. I'm just doing what I want to do."

Vlad: "That's what makes everyone happy. And me, of course."

Vlad: "That's why I'm..."

He stares at me with a gentle smile.

Mitsuki: "Vlad?"

I tip my head back to see what's wrong, but he suddenly chuckles and speaks up.

Vlad: "Hey, Mitsuki. Let's go on a date sometime."

Mitsuki: "Eh?"

Surprised at his sudden offer, I agreed to go on a date with him.

[Date Night]

As promised, I wait for Vlad in the mansion's garden, feeling a cool breeze passing through on a warm early summer night.

Vlad: "Sorry to keep you waiting, Mitsuki."

Mitsuki: "Waah!"

Someone hugs me from behind as if to wrap me softly.

Mitsuki: "V-Vlad? Good evening."

Mitsuki: "You freaked me out."

(I'm surprised but also excited.)

His arms wrapped around me, and his warmth soothed my heart.

Vlad: "I'm sorry. I felt like hugging you when I saw you waiting for me."

Mitsuki: "It’s okay. You surprised me, but I'm happy."

I gently place my hand on his arm.

(Huh?)

(He kind of smells like roses.)

He plants plenty of flowers in the castle garden, so maybe that's why.

Vlad: "Mitsuki. I bet tonight is going to be a great night."

Mitsuki: "I bet you're right. I'm really looking forward to it."

It was a sudden invitation, but my heart fluttered at the thought of going on a date with him.

Vlad: "That's good to hear. Let's go then."

Mitsuki: "Wow. This is a very nice store."

Vlad: "A customer of mine told me about it. I thought you might like it."

He's right. The chic, relaxed atmosphere and the delicious-looking dishes on the menu are definitely right up my alley.

(He brought me here thinking about me.)

His kindness, and the way he always thinks of me, warms my heart.

Mitsuki: "Thank you, I'm very happy."

Vlad: "I'm glad."

His eyes are even gentler than usual as he looks at me, making me feel excited.

(Somehow, I feel like he's in a different mood today than usual.)

He's always gentle, but his eyes seemed even sweeter today, tickling my heart and making me say my honest feelings.

Mitsuki: "I'm happy when we do things like this."

I'm glad we can be together and smile at each other, even if it is just an ordinary moment.

Vlad: "Yeah. Ever since I met you, I've received nothing but happiness."

Mitsuki: "Me too. You always make me smile."

When I told him this, his smile deepened.

Vlad: "Mitsuki. We've really been through a lot, haven't we?"

💍 Next Chapter

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp jp #ikevamp spoilers #ikevamp #cybird #ikevamp vlad #ikemen vampire vlad #ikemen series

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littlelesbinonny · 10 months

Text

The Devil’s Den

Chapter 9: In Which Rusted Gates Open Up Pt. 1

You can read this also on Ao3 at:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46831621/chapters/117962293

Donna and Alcina went their separate ways.

There was an undeniable damper placed over Alcina, trapping whatever bliss she had left over from the night with you.

She could sense the wayward glances from many of the vampires she passed on her way through the underground city. The news of Charles' beheading of course spread like a wind-blown wildfire, and vampires were nearly worse than gossiping small towns folk. The bit about the 'human pet on the side' would likely be picking up much more steam now.

Vampires keeping humans as 'pets' wasn't so uncommon several hundred years ago, in fact it was nearly regular practice. But fighting and bickering and pissing matches usually turned things exceptionally ugly between vampires, the humans were always the recipients of the worst of it, and any vampire with some semblance of their humanity left intact ended up wounded beyond repair at their deaths.

Mother Miranda had put an end to human pets and lovers long ago. It was far too risky and they didn't survive well underground like the vampires did. And, she found it tacky and unbecoming of a vampire to be so weak.

Alcina shuddered at the memories that crawled back in about that fateful night. She could still feel Mother Miranda's blade in her side at times.

She scoffed. If only that had been the worst of the damage.

Regardless of her suffering, it didn't change who she was deep down. Not every spec of her humanity had been expunged.

Let them talk, let them plan, let them be conspiratorial.

She didn't care.

Should she be worried? It was good as anyone's guess at this point.

The threat was real. But so was she. Through her long reign as monarch, there had only been three to tests their limits with her. Charles was the latest, and the other two ended about the same way. Alcina wasn't to be trifled with. They knew this, vampires and lycans alike. But there would always be the menacing little funguses growing somewhere in the dark.

Putrid fucking imbeciles.

Humanity in tact or not, she did not lack brutality and vengeance.

Upon entering the front door, she could hear her daughters in the kitchen riled up about something. As she removed her jacket their loudness gave way to laughter, and then she heard that voice.

At the kitchen island was Bela, Cassandra, Daniela and Heisenberg.

Who was lighting something on fire on the marble countertop.

"What the hell are you doing, Heisenberg!" Alcina shouted, hands on her hips and a scowl to unravel even the tightest rope.

"Ah shit - uh - Alcina -" he garbled taking some left over matches out from between his teeth, "just showing the girls some fun science!"

The girls were immediately trying to cover up the very apparent mess that had been made; stuffing things in their pockets and handing more things behind their backs to Heisenberg as if their mother wouldn't see.

Her visage hadn't changed and Daniela piped up immediately.

"Uncle Karl was just showing us some cool new pyro techniques! We haven't broken or ruined anything! We uh, we weren't sure when you'd be home - we were going to have everything cleaned up!"

"Clearly. But really, in the house, Daniela?! Heisenberg if you blow up my manor I swear - "

"No, no! Nothing explosive, promise - it's all fire, no bang," Karl tried as he scooped a pile of some sandy looking material to one side, "doesn't even hurt the surface, see?"

"That is not helping your case," Alcina bit, "I have told you time and time again if you must play with your little experiments and weapons DO NOT DO IT IN MY HOME, and girls, you know better."

There were a bunch of muddled whispers and murmurs as the girls helped Karl clean up and pack his stuff. Alcina was already pouring herself a glass of blood wine and rubbing her forehead in perplexed amusement.

Karl cleared his throat and said a quick goodbye, tipping his hat to Alcina as he skirted his way out the door.

Everyone was now quiet. The girls were doing their best to hide their snickering but it did halt the moment Alcina turned her stern gaze their way.

"Why was that hairy overgrown trilobite in our home?"

"Sorry, Mother," Bela offered first, stuffing her smile, "he knows how much Dani and Cass love fire and brought over some materials that burn really pretty colors when lit on fire."

Alcina took another sip of wine and raised her brows, "Ah... and how did he come to this discovery?"

"Accident." The three answered together.

She nodded in unsurprised fashion and walked over to each daughter, kissed them on their foreheads, and left for the hall.

"I'm turning in for a while, girls," Alcina called disappearing further into the manor, "and Dani, don't you dare light more of that on fire - I know he gave you a handful before he left!"

Cassandra and Bela looked at each other with wide eyes before bursting into giggles. Dani frowned.

Alcina closed the door to her bedroom and undressed, wrapped herself up in a white silk robe, and took a seat at her vanity, staring at herself in the mirror.

She was feeling bitterly numb.

Donna had a way of keeping her grounded when she needed it. But she didn't want to feel grounded. She didn't want to be tethered to the earth. She wanted to be with you, wherever you were, wherever cause and effect might take you both. But, alas, perhaps this happiness wasn't hers to have.

Perhaps that was just Mother Miranda talking.

Alcina leaned forward on the vanity and buried her face in her palms, taking slow steady breaths, mulling over the reminder she was always in danger.

So much power. Power to do nearly anything in the world, and it came with a heavy price. No freedom.

Stupid.

So fucking stupid.

After she finished her wine Alcina drew a bath and fully submerged herself, lavishing in the warm embrace of the water, a glint of a thought wishing perhaps it was your arms instead.

NO.

She scolded herself, emerging to the surface with a short gasp for air.

Alcina ran her long fingers through her soaked hair and leaned back into the tub. Staring into nothingness, regulating her breathing as she wiped the running mascara from under her eyes.

Her hand slowly trekked to her side where she fingered the large, ugly scar there.

'I want to make sure you never forget this as long as you live, Alcina.'

Held up by one arm, weak, and at her mercy, Alcina screamed out as Miranda plunged the dagger just below her ribs. The searing pain and fire that tore through her from the blade made her insides shrivel and cake like dried mud. It was excruciating.

'This is only half a price to pay, Alcina! You should be grateful you're one of my favorites!'

Alcina swallowed the memory with a gulp and shut her eyes.

It still wasn't as painful as the loss of her.

She feared more debts.

She feared for you.

But more than anything, she feared life now without knowing you.

Was it worth it?

What danger was she intentionally placing you in front of to face?

The next day was... weird.

You weren't sure if it was the lack of sleep, but everything seemed to be different.

Noises were more intense. Lights were more intense. Colors, vibrations, smells, surfaces under your fingertips, you name it.

You didn't have a hangover though, could it have been the wine?

Lack of sleep, or wine.

Or, both?

Anyway, all you knew was that shit was just weird. You didn't sleep very long, give or take 4 hours, and you were up and out the door to grab some actual food for your apartment. Wine and pancakes were fine once a month for 'sustenance', but you couldn't live like that.

You did know, that beyond all the hyper sensations you were dealing with, you were happy. Content, even. And that was a big deal.

Sure, you could always make yourself comfortable; nestle in to any situation and create a semblance of peace, you were uncannily adaptable that way. Always had been. But you were actually happy. You had some vigor in your veins. It had been a long time since you'd felt that way, to be honest.

Yes, your lady vampire, Alcina, played a huge role in it.

You had hooked yourself up in the idea of her like one chain link to another. She was enthralling. A bewitching experience. It seemed like the more you thought of her the more alive you kept feeling.

Man, hyper fixations were a bitch.

But, whatever, right? If chasing dopamine and serotonin involved her, you'd chase till you were dead.

Besides, this was no one-sided prey versus predator. She was fully as involved as you were, whether she would show it or not, you could tell. What vampire in their right mind does what she was doing? And what human in their right mind played along?

You could be insane together, that was fine with you.

Then again, it got you thinking. What was she doing, exactly? What was the end game here? Was there one? Did there have to be one? What was in it for her? What was in it for you? How long was this whole thing going to last?

Jesus Christ could your mind shut up for half a minute.

When you made it back to your apartment you went into a cleaning tizzy; half from overactive nerves about everything, half from anxious excitement for her return tonight.

She would be back tonight, right?

Well, at least you'd have a clean apartment regardless.

There were moments as you were cleaning, so immersed in your thoughts, you could almost feel her hands on your face again. See her reflective grey-mirrored eyes shimmering in front of you; an ocean full of seafoam and starlight, silver feathers and pale golden rays. You could stare into those eyes for hours. Days. Fuck it, eternity.

You could nearly make out every line on her face, every crease and delicate wrinkle; the laugh lines, the crow's feet, the perfect paleness of her skin tone, the drastic contrast of her crimson lips... a spark erupted in your core as you imagined kissing those lips yet again and you had to stop wiping down the counter and pause.

"Holy shit..." you mumbled, dragging the back of your arm across your brow, the overwhelming sensation of heat flooding your stomach increasing before eventually giving way.

Holy shit, indeed.

Alcina beckoned forth unspoken things from your body you really could not describe accurately even if you tried. If a panic attack could be brutally arousing and pleasurable all in the same breath, that's the best way you could explain it. Like how your stomach drops out from under you when a roller coaster plunges several hundred feet. You think you're going to die for those brief moments, not knowing if your body will handle the overpowering adrenaline, and then - poof - back to earth, back to reality, you made it out alive.

And you were definitely shaking.

You took a big long drink of some icy water and decided a cool shower was very likely in order.

Rarely did you wish away your days, but today was a bitch of an exception. You. Were. Ready. For. Night fall.

You had spent more hours than you can ever recall getting ready.

Luckily you had plenty of time.

The apartment was spotless, cleaner than it'd ever been since occupying it. Candles of every color were everywhere; on shelves, on tables, the bookcases, and windowsills.

You chuckled. This place looked like a witch's coven getting ready for a sacrificing ceremony. But it was pretty, dammit!

Natural light, candlelight included, was your absolute favorite. If you never had to have an ugly ass overhead light on ever again in your life it'd be too soon. This is how you liked it. Easy on the eyes. Comfortable.

Finally pleased with everything you turned on some easy listening lofi, laid back on the couch, and waited.

Alcina stood outside at the bottom of your apartment complex. Hands in her long trench coat pockets, eying your windows on the 17th floor that were lit like the sunset. She smiled.

It was a little late, well passed 11, but she knew you were still awake.

Scaling the building with little effort she hopped her way off your balcony banister silently, noticing the glass door was already open.

She allowed herself in and shut it, walked through your room, down the short hallway, and found you lounging on the couch scrolling through your phone.

You looked beautiful. It made her teeth ache.

Alcina cleared her throat gently and leaned against the wall, folding her arms under her chest and tucking one ankle behind the other.

Your eyes shot in her direction and ate her up with a knowing smirk, excitement revving it's engine at her mere presence.

Yes! You knew she'd come.

Rising slowly and reaching to your side you grabbed her gloves and held them in the air, "Come back for these?" you asked as your smirk widened.

Her own also grew, "Perhaps."

Her reply was so confidently smooth it frazzled you. Lifting yourself off the couch you made your way towards her, stopping in the middle of the living room, gloves still in your hands.

"If I give them back will that null and void your visiting policy?"

Alcina nearly snorted. You were insufferably cute. And irresistible.

Two of her long strides brought her face to face with you. Peering down into your eyes she pursed her lips and leaned in very gently towards your ear; "That remains to be seen," she cooed, brushing her lips ever so slightly against your cheek as she pulled away.

Your whole being quaked.

There was another shot of that familiar adrenalin. Her scent left you lightheaded, not to mention the silkiness of her voice, the lips grazing your cheek.

Goddamn.

This one was going to hurt. She was going to hurt. You didn't know exactly what that meant. But that's all you knew.

The way she sauntered passed you and took claim of the chair once again had your jaw slacked and brain sputtering.

So rude. So good.

Alcina knew it.

She had taken off her trench coat and laid it across the back of the chair, revealing her form hugging high waisted pleated pants, black of course, and a gold silk, high collared button up blouse. The buttons were undone just enough at the top. Of course they were.

Of course they were.

Goddamn. She looked like an uptown millionaire lawyer ready to take down an entire courtroom.

I'm guilty! Throw me in the can! Your mind shouted.

You cleared your throat, more for yourself, and sat where you had the night before.

Alcina eyed you intently as you fidgeted like a fussy cat until you had found your desired resting position. She wanted to cup your face and adore you so much more closely.

"Ok, so..." you began, upsetting the silence, fingering her gloves that rest in the crook of your lap, "I have so many questions, may I ask?"

Silver hues glinted as her eyelids narrowed slightly, her smile widening as she tilted her chin up and mused on your question.

"Ask what you like. I will answer or I won't."

Well. Ok then.

Now where to start?

Feeling the gloves at your fingertips, you looked down quickly at then back to her, "On your gloves, what does the A. D. stand for?"

Oh dear. You wanted her full name. You didn't miss a thing, did you.

"It is my initials; Alcina Dimitrescu."

You couldn't have stopped the widening of your eyes if you tried. That was easily the most beautiful, eloquent name you'd ever heard in your life.

"That's... that's gorgeous. What nationality is that?"

Alcina's grin was fed by your delight, "Romanian."

"Are you from there or were you born here?" you pressed, the hunger for her story getting more and more famished.

A sigh left her lips. Surely you'd ask all these things eventually, clearly she couldn't stay away, so, off the deep end you were going.

"I was born there, yes."

She sure wasn't offering up much information without a fight, was she. You began to realize your approach with her would have to be just as cunning. Fine. You can play that game.

Perching your chin on your palm you ate her up with your eyes, "Tell me how you ended up here in New York, what brought you all the way over here?"

Hmph. Now you were asking the right questions. Fine, Alcina decided to give in.

"My career brought me here. I was an only child born to a business obsessed family; their focus and ambition was wine, and I, being the only child was solely expected to take on and over said business. I wanted nothing to do with it. I was drawn to music, the arts, anything that gave me attention, as I got none from my parents. Luckily, I was born with a gift of singing. I honed it, perfected it, and joined a jazz band at a young age..."

Her musings took her down a dreary walk of memory lane but she pushed the dampness aside and continued.

"I was fortunate enough to have a manager who cared more about my thriving than my parents and urged us on to bigger and better things, here in the United States."

What the hell. Well that definitely explained how absolutely captivating her humming was last night. You wanted to hear her sing so badly. Actually sing. Not humming. But you could come back to that, another thought had its hand raised and flailing in the front of the classroom.

"When... when was that?"

"1949."

Ope. There it is. You knew she was likely much older than she appeared, vampires being undying and all, but you didn't want to come right out and ask so blatantly. Was that rude in the vampire world? You didn't know.

"So... when, er, how did you..."

"Become what I am?"

You licked your lips after tentatively nodding. You legitimately couldn't help your curiosity, but you didn't want to overstep or be rude. How the hell does one navigate a Q and A with a vampire?

Alcina nodded in response, understanding your curiosity and eager mind.

"I inherited my families rare blood disease, porphyria cutanea tarda. It ailed me from a young age but it stayed manageable enough. It wasn't until I was in my 20's that it began producing severe setbacks. Treatment back in those days was primitive, minimal at best. Doctors didn't understand it the way they do now, so my ability to bounce back continued to decline. Unfortunately, my illness split up the band; we dissolved not 5 years in being here, and I became progressively sicker as the years went on. I had no one to take care of me and I became nearly bedridden in my final months."

Her eyes had dropped away from you and to the floor as she readied herself to relive the short recap of what she was now about to tell you, Alcina's melancholy doing its best to rear its ugly head.

"It was in 1958 when I was turned. A vampire, Mother Miranda, found me. I came to find much later she had been a fan of the band and heard me sing many times. After my disappearance from the stage she sought me out, only to find me very near my death. She offered me a new life, and I took it."

Your heart ached. Yes, this was a trial version of the story, but still. Alcina was alone, sick, dying, with no one in the world to turn to. You knew how that felt and it upset you greatly she had to endure it. But there was another solemness behind the words, something stinging about this Mother Miranda she spoke about. As if a way out of death had been offered, yet it seemed heavy, burdened with a different affliction, a price.

How could you respond?

"I'm - I'm really sorry, that you had to suffer alone."

Alcina returned her gaze to you. You were so genuine it almost hurt.

"It is not for you to apologize for."

There was a strong softness behind her eyes now, that hidden gem of her truth you'd barely caught a glimpse of last night, now more forthwith and presented to you. You didn't want the sadness to snuff out her story.

"How old are you now, then?"

A brief pause lingered as Alcina thought, a tilt of her head and then the reply, "108, as of last November."

Oh. Wow.

"A November baby, huh?"

"Yes, November 4th, 1914."

"Ooo, a Scorpio."

"Oh dear," Alcina huffed a laugh, "you do seem the type to be into astrology."

"Hey, don't knock it," you giggled back, "it's entertaining!"

You. Loved. Her. Laugh. You could listen to that all day long. It was perfect. The way her laugh lines deepened, excruciatingly beautiful, the turn of her lips, how the fuck was anyone this perfect?

A little more laugher later you scooted just a little closer to the arm of the couch and studied her, "What was it like, being turned?"

"Painful," her response came swiftly, yet surprisingly devoid of emotion, "it's a sensation I cannot describe. The aftermath, though, was very... rewarding."

"How do you mean?"

"It is a rebirth of your body. It dies, you, your body dies, and then when you reawaken everything feels new. It's almost as if you're relearning everything you once knew after forgetting. Only, the heightened sensations never go away; every sense within you is magnified tenfold," she halted briefly as she reminisced, "things are a familiar new, things you once considered intense now pale in comparison. It's exhilarating in the beginning, and then you must learn how to control it."

"Like hunger, right?"

She nodded slowly, remembering the visceral, devouring hunger she felt in her young vampire years. A spark flickered in her eyes, "Yes... especially the hunger."

You remember her bite all too well. You'd be lying if you said you didn't wish for it again; to feel her so close, helpless in her clutches, those fangs piercing your skin as her warm mouth drank you in.

You needed a segue quick.

"Do you..." your voice cracked a little, "do you like being a vampire?"

How on earth was Alcina supposed to answer that question? That was an hour long explanation at best. How does one explain the pros and cons to something of such magnitude? It had cost her so much, and yet her gains were nearly measurable.

"Yes. And no," Alcina replied with a new tone upon her voice, thoughts drenched more of what she lost, gave up, and had torn away from her more than her gifts, "that's an explanation I cannot give you."

Her voice finished as a whisper and you regarded her there in that moment. This was a true display of her depths, of the core of who she was, and you wanted to reach out, into her, pull it from the recesses of the dark and hold it close to you, next to your heart and heal whatever wounds you could.

There was never a doubt in your mind that the stories and movies depicting vampires held merit; how could a person who could not change manage in an existence that never stopped changing? Was it a gift or a curse? How does one play the middle ground?

Boldness gripped you.

"Alcina," you said, reaching out slowly to place your hand over hers that rest on the arm of the chair, "you don't have to explain anything, you don't even have to answer my questions, I just can't help but to want to know you... you owe me nothing."

You were an enigma yourself, indeed.

Alcina's whole body warmed at not only your touch, that soft, gentle, unique touch, but so much so at your words. Oh, you are pressing my limits, my pet, she thought. Your pureness was refreshing and wholly encompassing, she wanted to turn into you away from the world just as badly as you did her, it seemed.

Dare she?

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu/reader #alcina dimitrescu/female reader #alcina dimitrescu/original female character #lesbian #wlw #f/f #fanfic #fic #karl heisenberg #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #mother miranda #slow burn #pining #angst

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spacecadet-ticklesinspace · 2 years

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Berries

Summary: While sick, Peter 1 keeps begging for berries.

Wait! I had a cute idea!

imagine whenever one of the three peters specifically wants raspberries, one (or both) of his brothers go and get some raspberries out of the fridge and put them on the tips on their fingers. Then however many raspberries he wants, he can just pick off their fingers and eat, and that’s how many they give him! <333

I love ur blog!! keep up the great work!!

(I had started this idea and couldn't figure out how I wanted it to go, but then Anon sent in this idea and I had to put the two together :) Thank you sweet Anon! I did change the prompt slightly just for personal preference on the idea of sticky fingers and mouths while tickling :) I hope that's okay ❤️)

Peter 1 was in a fog. His body felt like he was burning and freezing at the same time, his head was stuffed underwater, and he was dizzy even while lying down. It was hard to tell which way was up and which way was down.

"Here you go Bug," a voice spoke up near his left as a cool rag was placed on his forehead.

The rag helped to cool some of the heat and clear the fog long enough for Peter 1 to see Peter 3 nearby. "Three?"

"Hey Bug. How are you doing?"

"Horrible."

"I bet. Whatever you got, it doesn't want to let you go."

At that moment, Peter 2 materialized directly beside Peter 3. "How's the patient?"

"Still feeling horrible, but he appears to be somewhat lucid right now."

The oldest's shoulders sagged in relief. "Good. I'm hoping this means his fever is going down too."

Peter 1 blinked and squinted in confusion. The older two changed positions. Now they were on either side of him.

"Are you okay Pete?" The oldest asked.

Tears sprag into the youngest's eyes. "No."

His skin hurt, his head hurt, even his muscles hurt.

A hand gently carded through his hair. "I know buddy, it's awful right now."

"The rag helps some."

"That's good," another voice soothed. "Is there anything else that might help?"

The youngest could think of one thing that helped when he felt awful. "Berries."

"Berries?"

Peter 1 nodded.

"We have some frozen strawberries. Munching on those might help cool you down."

The youngest shook his head. "No, raspberries."

"Raspberries? I don't think we have any raspberries."

"But we get them all the time!" Peter 1 pouted.

"We can get some from the store tomorrow and you can have some then."

The youngest shook his head in frustration. "No!"

"Okay, okay. What are you trying to ask for Pete?"

"Raspberries!"

"Oooh! I think I know what he's talking about," Peter 3 exclaimed.

Two raised his eyebrows. "You do?"

"Ticklish raspberries."

"Oh! Those raspberries."

Peter 1 gave his best puppy dog eyes. "Please?"

Two gently ran his fingers through Peter 1's hair. "Those raspberries aren't a good idea right now Bug. Maybe when you're not sick we can give you some."

Peter 1 was so confused. "But . . . raspberries make everything better."

He felt Peter 3 slide his arm out of the blanket and gently rub his hand against it. "It's because of this Pete."

Normally the rubbing motion was soothing, but now Three's hand felt like sandpaper rubbing against his skin. Peter 1 winced. "Ow."

The middle brother carefully slid One's arm back under the blanket. "See Bug? The berries will hurt and won't be any fun."

"When you're all better, then they won't hurt," Two soothed.

"But raspberries help people feel better."

"They help your heart feel better Bug. They can hurt a physical sickness."

Peter 1's eyes welled up with tears. What good were raspberries if they wouldn't help?

"Shhh, I know you're frustrated Pete. But trust us, it's going to hurt if you do it right now."

"I . . . I h-hate being. . . sick!"

Suddenly, two sets of arms wrapped around Peter 1 in a tight hug. Peter 1 let out his frustrated tears before he was able to calmly take in a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay Bug, we don't like getting sick either," Two soothed.

"Nor do we like it when someone we love gets sick," Three added.

One sniffled and yawned.

"Come on Peter, let's get some sleep."

"The sooner you sleep, the sooner you get better."

The youngest didn't reply. Instead, he slipped off into a deep sleep.

The youngest blinked awake. He had the dream again. The youngest groaned and threw an arm over his face. About three days prior, he had just gotten over the worst cold he had had in a while.

Pretty much everything from those few days were blurred memories and fever dreams. This particular memory had come up several times, but he couldn't tell if it was a real memory or just another fever dream he kept seeing.

The youngest rolled out of bed and headed downstairs. Thankfully, neither 2 nor 3 had said anything about the request.

When downstairs, he found the older two sitting at the kitchen table with mugs in their hands.

Peter 3 spotted him first. "Well look who's awake."

Peter 2 saw him next. "Hey Pete. How are you feeling?"

The youngest stepped all the way in. "Much better. Thank you guys for taking care of me."

"Last I checked, that's what family does," Three teased.

Meanwhile, Peter 2 stood. "Come have a seat. You want some tea?"

"Please?" The youngest asked as he took a seat at the table. Slowly but surely, he began to relax as he chatted with Peter 3 and Two prepped the tea.

"You want a raspberry One?"

Peter 1 tensed and turned to Peter 2. "What?"

The oldest held up a box. "A raspberry tea?"

"Oh! S-sure."

Peter 2 furrowed his eyebrows. "You okay?"

Peter 1 held up both his thumbs. "Great."

The oldest studied him for a moment longer before turning back to make the tea.

"Raspberries are good for your tummy."

One turned to stare at Three.

"Like your gut. They have great health benefits."

Peter 1 relaxed. "Oh. Like an antioxidant."

"Yeah, exactly."

A mug was placed in front of him. "Here you go."

"Thank you."

"No problem Bug. Just watch that steam. It tickles."

A blush spread across One's cheeks.

"You okay Pete, you're looking a little flushed," Three asked.

"I'm g-good."

"You sure?" Two asked as he placed a hand over Peter 1's forehead.

The youngest jumped a little at the contact.

"Someone's jumpy."

"S-sorry! Your hand was cold!"

Peter 3 shifted so he could rest his face on his fist, covering his mouth in the process. "Mh-hm."

"Really?" Peter 2 asked as he shifted down to talk in Peter 1's ear. "I thought the cool felt better."

Peter 1's eyes widened. "What?"

Suddenly, Peter 3 burst out laughing.

"Three!" Two chastised. "You came in too early! I didn't even get to break out the raspberries in the fridge."

"Ihm sohorryhy! Hihis fahacial ehexprehessihions kihilled mehe!"

The youngest groaned and dropped his head down to the table with a thud. This caused a new round of laughter from Peter 3 and a few chuckles from Two.

"Ahawww, wehere sorry Buhug. We couldn't rehesist!" Peter 2 soothed.

"Yohou kehept tryhying to cohonvince us they wohould help whihile you wehere sick," Three added.

"I know," Peter 1 groaned again.

"What? It was cuhute!" Two teased. "Didn't know yohou held our raspberries up so highly."

The youngest turned to glare at his older brothers. "You guys suck."

"Are you saying you don't want any raspberries?"

The youngest's face turned beet red.

Peter Two smirked. "We know that look."

"Sh-shuhut it!"

"Well if you're so desperate for them, we can give them to you," Three teased.

One squeaked and turned his face into the table.

"Not a lot though?" Peter Two asked. "Don't want to over do it."

The youngest nodded.

"I have an idea," Peter 2 replied as he stepped away.

Peter 1 lifted his head to watch as his oldest brother got a pack of raspberries from the fridge. While he was up, he also grabbed a bowl before turning back to the kitchen table. "I've tried this with Peter 3 before."

The oldest placed the bowl and the container of raspberries on the table.

"I remember this!" Three exclaimed.

"What do I do?"

"However many raspberries you want, you put that many in the bowl. This way it's easier for you to control how many you give."

"Then when we're done, you get to eat the raspberries," Peter 2 added.

"It's fun!"

Peter 1 looked between his brothers and the container of berries. "But . . . what if I want to change it?"

"Start out with a smaller number than you think you'll want. You can always add more to the bowl if you decide you want more," Peter 2 added.

Peter 1 hesitated a moment before reaching out and tentaively dropping three raspberries into the bowl.

"There ya go," Peter 3 encouraged.

"Thahanks."

Peter 2 wrapped him in a hug from behind. "Do you want them here or should we move to the couch?"

"Uhum . . ."

"Your choice bud," Three prompted as he stood.

Peter 1 looked down at the floor. He did not want to be tickled there today. "Couch?"

Two ruffled his younger brother's hair. "Couch it is."

Peter 1 turned. He cautiously held his arms up to Peter 3.

The middle brother grinned and scooped his brother into his arms. "C'mere."

While the two headed into the living room, Peter 2 grabbed the bowl and the raspberries before following after.

The youngest was carefully pinned to the couch as nervous giggles spilled out of him.

"Ready?" Three cooed.

Peter 1 grinned and nodded. The next sound to escape his mouth was a squeal as three raspberries were blown into his stomach.

"How was that?" Three asked.

"Gohood."

"Do you want anymore?" Peter Two asked.

The youngest paused. "Uhum . . ."

"Your choice." Three reminded.

Peter 1 nodded. He knew his brothers would never overstep his boundaries . . . and he really wanted a few more berries. So he reached forward and dropped two more berries into the bowl.

By the time he had his fill, a total of twelve raspberries were in the bowl.

"Had enough little Pete?" Two genuinely asked.

The youngest nodded tiredly.

"Wanna eat your raspberries later?" Three asked as he carded his fingers through One's hair.

Peter 1 nodded again. "Thahank yohou."

Peter 2 smiled and gently scooped the youngest into his lap. "Are you glad we waited?"

One nodded. "Ihim sorry Ihi was soho puhushy."

"You were sick bud," Three soothed. "Sometimes we get clingy when we don't feel good."

"Stihill. Thahank you fohor tahaking care ohof mehe."

"Anytime Bug," Three replied as he scooted closer. "Besides, berries make everything better."

#lee peter 1 #ler peter 2 #ler peter 3 #ticklefic #whumpee peter 1 #caretakers peter 2 and 3

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nirvanawrites111 · 1 year

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Stripper AU update!!

Okayyyy!!! So something MAGICAL happened to me last night. I was sitting in my living room working on my book (I'm in the pursuit of following my dreams and becoming a full-time author). I was struggling with writer's block and I decided to re-edit my first chapter. Then Slidin' by Kai came on and all I could see was him dancing in my head. So, I rewrote the first chapter to my stripper AU. I found an 1 hour loop and told myself I'm going to loop this. If I could hold myself accountable to just write whi

le it's looping then I'm good. Baby... my creative juices were flowing! I do need to make a slowed & reverb 1 hour slowed Slidin track because those versions just hit different!!!! So, Y/N is a male revue club owner (I also need a really cool name because I think I came up with Rock Hard Revue.. I need something that reflects a mixture of feminine and masculine energy. Even though it's all men.) and Y/n's main attractions are Taemin, Ten, and it used to be Kai. Y/n also has some type of relationship with each other them.

Y/N and Kai are divorced. Now, Taemin is the headliner. All of them using their own solo songs but they aren't idols. They are dancers who sometimes perform their own songs. I'm thinking about how I want to frame Y/n's relationship with all of them. I'm not sure how long I want it to be. Maybe a 4-part series? I don't want it to drag it too long.

One of my favorite Hwa author gave me a fantastic tip for when you have ADHD. Don't release it until it's all done. I have so many undone projects from yearsssssss ago. Months ago related to K-pop. I have a 4000 word sub!yuygeom that just need a bit more smut and it'll be done.

When I used to write for another fandom and I didn't know I had ADHD. So, I would work on 3 fanfics at a time. Start one and then start other. Delete it and then be hyperfocused and create something new. I hate that cycle. So, I will wait until it's all done before I post. I'm tempted to share what I have so far, but I want to write the whole thing first.

That way I don't disappoint you or me. We both deserve better tbh. But, I'm going to challenge myself to loop a song for 1 hour and write just within that hour. I had so much fun writing my Taemin x Reader x Jimin story. It's just something about having Y/n in a position of power that just empowers me. I've been wanting to write a reverse harem fem!dom story because I rarely see them. I think I've only seen it with 3racha.. I think?

But, anyways Taemin, Kai, Taemin are my 3 baes like fr! I might slide Baekhyun in it as a side character. But, not in the harem. I MAY OR MAY NOT add Jimin as a part of the harem. I don't know yet. I love me some sub!Jimin content TBH and alot of people see him as a dom!. Which is fine, but my perception is he makes a better sub!character.

Right now he serves a different purpose in the first chapter. But, I'll see how it goes. But, yeah that's just me updating because I love to share and use my throat chakra more when I'm excited about something.

#sub!kpop #sub!ten #sub!jongin #sub!kai #sub!taemin #sub!jimin

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traynslations · 2 years

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Inumaru Touma Sugao Rabbit Chat Part 5: Cooking Party

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Touma: Takanashi-san!

Touma: Sorry for the late reply!

Touma: Thank you for contacting Yuki-san about the oligosaccharides!

Tsumugi: Thank you for your hard work, Inumaru-san.

Tsumugi: Yes! When I saw you at the TV station, I gave you a quick glance. And then you contacted me…!

Tsumugi: I was going to tell you right there, but I’m sorry for saying it late!

Touma: No, thank you for taking such good care of me!

Touma: I was surprised when Yuki-san suddenly sent me a Rabbit chat. We talked about various things and I even got some tips on cooking!

Touma: It seems that there are dishes that can be cooked not only in the microwave, but also in the toaster.

Tsumugi: Is that so! Not only toasters, but also recent new home appliances are convenient, depending on how you use them, you can use them for various things.

Touma: Heeh. I’m not really interested in cooking appliances, so I didn’t know they were useful for so many things.

Touma: Come to think of it, I was surprised to hear that there is a way to make soda at home!

Tsumugi: It’s a carbonated water maker…!

Touma: Right, right! It seems that Yuki-san has one, and it’s cool that he also has an automatic mill too.

Touma: The one that automatically grinds salt and pepper in a stylish way.

Tsumugi: I adore automatic mills! It’s very nice and cool to use while cooking, it gives you a good image..

Touma: I understand. Well, I’ll start with cooking, but…

Touma: It might be a good idea to use a toaster for breakfast.

Tsumugi: You also talked about breakfast in the interview for Sugao. There are many considerations regarding nutrition after a morning run, you say…!

Touma: I just talked about a protein bar ww

Touma: Did you also buy the magazine? Thank you!

‎

Option 1: The interview about ŹOOĻ was wonderful!

Touma: I’m happy to be praised so straightforwardly, but that makes me embarrassed ww. In a good way, I’ve grown to naturally want to talk about this. If my members read it, I’m afraid they’ll tease me about it…

Option 2: The story about being challenged by intestinal activities was interesting!

Touma: It was a good opportunity to talk about my bias towards eating out and bento boxes, so I wanted to review it. Mina always flaunts his fried food and ramen to me, and I am always tempted by it ww

Option 3: The picture of you on the cover was wonderful!

Touma: It still feels like a dream to be on the cover of “Sugao”. I sent you a picture of Sougo lined up at the convenience store this morning. I was happy he came to get it.

‎

Tsumugi: After watching your interview, I realized that there are many things I can learn from you, and I really did learn a lot!

Touma: Isn’t that compliment too much?

Tsumugi: No! It’s amazing to be able to be natural without embellishment at any time!

Touma: It’s not like I’m doing it consciously, so I don’t really feel it ww But I’m happy to hear that!

Touma:

Tsumugi: Come to think of it, how was the cooking party at Mido-san’s house?

Touma: Oh, that’s right! It was so much fun!

Touma: They said it was dangerous to let me cut the meat and vegetables, so Haru and Mina did most of that.

Touma: Tora and I just adjusted the heat and stuff.

Tsumugi: Seems the work was shared by everyone. The heat is important for cooking…!

Touma: Oh, I remember what medium heat is. The one where the fire barely touches the pot!

Tsumugi:

Tsumugi: What did you guys make?

Touma: Nikujaga!

Touma: Cooking with them was unimaginable in the past, so I was deeply moved.

Touma: Well, it’s kind of cool to say that my bad cooking skills are the reason.

Tsumugi: But it’s wonderful that you all gathered there since they were all worried about you!

Tsumugi: I can tell that you are loved as their leader.

Touma: I’m loved??

Touma: The guidance was pretty spartan ww

Tsumugi: Isn’t that also do to worry…!

Touma: If you ask them, they’ll say no ww

Tsumugi:

End of Part 5

‎

Translator’s note: That’s the end of Touma’s Sugao! It was so fun to read and I hope you all had fun reading it too!

#touma inumaru #idolish7translation #idolish7 #ainana #rabbit chat

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hi-intrepid-heroes · 2 years

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hii so ive seen you posting about gming and i just want to ask you if you were anxious early on, and if you were, how you went about overcoming it? i know gming can be fun for me and i have a lot of cool ideas but im scared of like messing up and ruining the game for my players.

hi!!

thank you so much for sending me this!! i've been dm'ing for about a year now but we don't play super regularly so i still feel like a new-ish dm if i'm being honest. i'm still nervous before sessions and am still learning but some of my tips for overcoming anxiety are (note after writing: this got SO LONG sorry i hope it helps!):

-pick the right players: i think when you're starting out it's really important to have players that you trust! i'm really lucky and i play with people i've been friends with for like 10 years so i'm really comfortable around them, but in general try to have players that you trust not to hold mistakes you make (see tip #2) against you. it's easier to just go for it and try some things when you're comfortable around your players

-accept you're going to mess up sometimes: we all make mistakes, especially when you're learning a new skill, which is what dm'ing is. i don't know all the rules by heart, i have to change things halfway through sometimes, i sometimes run a not so great session, and that's just kind of. how it is. not everything's gonna be a banger. for me, it's really nice to address that? like, i recently ran a thing where two pcs were involved in a duel while the other two were just waiting, and they clearly got bored. so when the duel was over, i turned to them, said 'this was boring for you, right?', they said 'yeah' and i nodded and said 'cool, then we won't do it again', made a note of it, and move on. i cannot emphasise how much addressing something i did wrong due to miscalculation (i thought it would be shorter + more interesting for the pcs not involved), acknowledging it was a mistake and that i now know it doesn't work, and then just moving on instead of lingering on it helped in overcoming the anxiety around mistakes was. i tend to linger on my mistakes and by addressing it, i removed both doubt in my mind about how the players felt + doubt in their mind about whether i caught that it just wasn't that interesting, and that gave me the space to simply get on with the parts of the story that are interesting!

-find someone to talk to about your campaign that isn't your players: it's so nice to just braindump to another person sometimes, and this doesn't have to be someone who plays dnd! for the longest time, i would just talk to my mum about it, and simply the act of explaining to someone else what was happening and what i was struggling with helped me solve my own problems!

-prepare as much as you feel is necessary: i see a lot of people warning against over preparing and although you want to try and not railroad your players, preparing is great and in the beginning i prepared a lot! i'm now confident enough to improvise fantasy shots when necessary but i definitely wasn't a year ago and so i would just. make a bar if i knew they were going to an area with bars, and sometimes they wouldn't end up doing shots and i'd just save it. for me, this over preparation helped me feel safe in my own world and i knew there was less chance of me getting surprised (it still happened, it always happens (flashbacks to the barbarian in session 2 deciding she wanted a pet so i had to improvise a full fantasy pet store rip), but by preparing i saved myself a lot of stress)

-use online resources: there are so many blogs, youtube channels, and other things to help you with dm'ing and for me finding info/instructions made me feel more secure! i really like matthew colville, he's got a full playlist called running the game (find it here), which is about learning to dm, it's got 100+ videos and it's amazing. he advocates for using adventures, which i like cause they're a little bit more accessible! you don't have to homebrew if that seems intimidating, just run an adventure, they're just as fun and cool to do!! matthew colville is a good intro, when i have a specific question, i also look at the DM Lair, who has a lot of really focused videos, but i haven't seen that many. in theme with this blog, i also like adventuring academy which is brennan + guest, specifically this one with murph cause they have a beautiful bit where they emphasise that if you have watched dimension 20 you can dm, anyone can do it and i 100% agree. you can do it!! i understand you're nervous but the biggest hurdle (for me, at least) was the first session. the second they laugh at something you said or are creeped out by the haunted mansion you created based on a backstreet boys music video (only normal decisions here), you realise 'oh. this is kind of fun actually'. i'm still nervouse before sessions and a lot of way more experienced dms are too but it's also so fun just try it!! i'd love to hear how it goes!

dm's please reblog with your best tips for overcoming anxiety!!!!

#so sorry for the length i have one mood and its in this essay i will #thank u for the question if you have any more let me know i will try to help in any way i can <3 #good luck with dm'ing im rooting for you!!!!#shut up judith

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zenki-soukokq · 1 year

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Hello! I'd like to request a genshin matchup!

My name is Leah, I go by She/her and He/him pronouns.

I'm black, I have short locs with light brown tips, glasses, 5'4, I have dimples and I'm always wearing earrings!

I'm social, calm, funny and charismatic. I'm a chill person who has amazing body language and good listening skills. I'm outgoing, disorganized and love fun. I'm easily bored so I'm always looking for something entertaining. People's first impression of is reserved, intimidating, and shy but when you really get to know me I'm the opposite. I'm horrible at saving money, I'm a very curious person and I always ask "why?".

I enjoy dancing, reading, all types of mythology, videos games, dirty jokes, acting and music. My favorite shows are How to get away with murder and The walking dead.

I think that's all, Thank you!

You have been matched up with...Fischl!

A mysterious girl who currently serves as an investigator in the Adventurers' Guild. Through her unique abilities, eccentric character, and (while she would never admit it herself) hard work, Fischl has become a rising star among the Adventurers' Guild's investigators, earning the recognition of all.

How you two met:

Life in Mondstadt is usually quite calm, aside from the occasional nation-wide (or city-wide?) catastrophe. However, today didn't seem to want to abide by that unspoken (and frankly, nonexistent) law.

Fischl found herself walking along the various streets of the city, seemingly quite bored with how today was going

Nothing had happened yet, and it seemed like it was going to stay that way

Even for someone as eccentric as her, it was hard to find any way to make this day particularly memorable

However, she and her nonexistent activities were soon interrupted by a member of the Adventurers' Guild approaching her, seemingly holding a couple of papers

Fischl snatched the papers from their hands eagerly, and she began to skim through them at an incredible pace

After a couple of minutes, she cried out in triumph, seeing as she finally had something to do today

She had received a commission from an anonymous party to search for a civilian- you -who hadn't been seen in a couple of days

She quickly made her way past the gates of the city, aiming to locate exactly where you were

Using the minimal clues that she had to work with, she was able to make some basic guesses on where you would probably be

You two had interacted in some minor ways before, so she had somewhat of a handle on what to guess

Even though she didn't know it at the time, Fischl had gone to the right place on her first attempt

Fischl arrived at the base of Starsnatch Cliff, as she looked up in exhaustion. She had figured that she could just glide off of the top of the cliff if you weren't there, but at this point, she was considering giving up for today. Thankfully, though, she chose to keep on searching.

The walk up the cliff was going to be quite long, and at this point, Fischl was almost out of energy

Throughout the journey, she had been conversing with Oz to keep her company, but even his company was starting to become insufficient

She trudged up the semi-flat incline of the cliff, and at the halfway point, she gave up, and flopped herself onto the cool grass

Sighing in defeat, she began to plan her way back to the city of Mondstadt, until she heard somebody call out to her

Even if they didn't use her name, she could still tell that it was directed towards her (mostly because the only other living being there was Oz, and really, how many people would actually try and get his attention, let alone talk to him?)

She snapped her head to the side in hope, and she was greeted by the sight of you having a picnic on a small ledge

She pushed herself off of the ground, and quickly began to clean herself off

Fischl ran at a speed that could almost be considered a sprint, and stopped right in front of you

"And I, of course, was able to find you within the same day that I first sought after you! Now, since I went through so much trouble to graciously save you from being lost, you're indebted to me, of course! Come with me now! I order you to be near constantly within my presence for an indefinite period of time!"

Why you two are compatible:

Although Fischl probably doesn't get along with everyone, I can definitely envision her being able to get along with most people (especially if they humor her mystical nature)

In most cases, I suppose that it would rely heavily on circumstance for whether or not a deeper relationship comes to fruition

However, for both a platonic and romantic relationship, I believe that there would be a lot of natural chemistry that would be present

Common interests would be likely, as well as a willingness to delve into each other's interests

Additionally, your initial disposition and actions would probably mesh quite well with Fischl's

Fischl would probably also appreciate someone like you, even if they weren't exactly like you

Overall, it would really depend on very specific circumstances for the two of you to engage in any sort of relationship, but under those specific circumstances, there's a lot of room for a nice relationship to grow

Relationship Headcanons:

A mysterious girl who calls herself "Prinzessin der Verurteilung" and travels with a night raven named Oz.

There's definitely a lot of joking around in this relationship

Whether it be playing off of each others' jokes to an extreme height, or topping off each others' hysterical theatrics, the two of you play off of each other a lot

Literature is probably also a fairly prominent topic in the relationship

Due to Fischl's inclination towards fantasy, that's probably where you two would have the most common literary ground

Along with that, given your liking for acting, she probably likes to write out versions of stories (or completely original ones) for you two to act out

Depending on the degree of closeness between you two (and how deep the relationship is), she may or may not let down her fantasy persona

I think that you'd need to be quite close for her to let it down intentionally, or at least, she needs to have a lot of trusts in you

I think that regardless of whether or not the relationship is platonic or romantic in nature, activities together would probably remain mostly platonic

The only things that would probably change would be some of the smaller things that she says, and the degree of physical intimacy that she chooses to engage in

New Years Headcanons:

New Years in Mondstadt is often spent in houses (or taverns) with your family (or drinking buddies), and so there usually aren't many large-scale public celebrations

Usually, if there are any, it takes place far before the actual time of New Years

Because of this, Fischl was a bit stuck on how she wanted to spend New Years

Of course, she wanted to spend it with you, but at the same time, it interfered with her usual yearly schedule

She pondered over this issue idly for a couple of hours, until she finally came to a conclusion on what to do

Normally, her family would stay awake until twelve and have a small dinner, so she figured that it probably wouldn't cause much trouble if she were to invite you over

Not long after this thought, she confirmed it with her family, and went over to where you lived to ask if you were alright with it

Assuming that you accepted, she then began to prepare some small things for your eventual arrival later

Cut to a couple hours later, when it was around 9

Fischl welcomed you into her house, and quickly led you away into her room

She planned for the two of you to read the a copy of Volume 0 of Flowers for Princess Fischl, and for you two to then talk about it after

Through some miraculous manner, she was able to get her hands on the copy, and she treated it with the utmost care

For the next hour and a half, you and Fischl spent a lot of your time reading Volume 0, and almost analyzing it

By the time you two had arrived at the dinner table, it was around 11:40, just 20 minutes before the New Year came

You conversed with Fischl mindlessly about miscellaneous topics, as the two of you ate your parts of the New Years dinner

Before either of you had realized it, the clock had struck 12, and the New Year had finally arrived

She looked at you, shocked, before smiling brightly, and beginning to speak to you

"...And of course! It's absolutely integral to the...oh? It's already twelve! I guess time does tend to fly quite fast when I...hmm...ah, I guess whenever I'm near you...?"

Afterword:

I feel like this probably isn't very good, and I'm sorry about that! :(

I hope you were still able to enjoy it, though!

#genshin matchups #genshin x you #genshin impact #matchups #zenki's matchups #fischl #fischl x reader

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gingerjuggalo · 9 days

Text

Chapter 4 of my Les Averman fic

If you like this, you can find the rest of the fic here

Words: 1,206

Lester was in his English class. The teacher, Mr. Wish, was teaching the class about poetry. He was droning on about some famous poet. Bleh. Les never liked poetry. 'It was stupid and overrated', he thought. He just couldn't see the appeal. It was just sentences spaced out more. Nothing interesting.

'If class isn't interesting, might as well make it right?', he thought. Luckily for him, he has Peter in this class. He didn't really like Peter to be honest, he thought he was annoying. To be fair---he was, but Averman would be lying if he said he couldn't be fun sometimes.

So he turned to him, "hey Pete-meiser."

The smaller boy turned to him, "what."

"Instead of learning about 'The Raven', I'd rather be in this class nevermore." He laughed and slapped the desk with his hand. It made a loud smack that caused Les to jolt up.

Lester wasn't the only one who noticed it apparently, because the whole class seemed to have went quiet. Shit. The teacher turned around to look at the two. He wasn't happy. "Lester Averman." He put his hands on his hips.

He gulped and his face turned red. He was speechless. Before he could eve think of responding, Peter retorted. "Shawn Wish." Averman gave a horrified look over at Peter. Did he really just do that?

Les whispered, "what are you doing...? Are you insane?"

"Don't worry, I got this.." Peter whispered back

The teacher's face grew red with anger. "That's it! Detention after school for the both of you!" He looked at Peter, "and you...office. Now."

"...so much for 'got this', huh?" Peter rolled his eyes and got up from his seat, leaving the classroom.

----------------

The room was quiet. The only things he could hear was the sound of his pencil marking on the behavior reflection sheet he had. All kids in detention received those. He and Peter Mark were put in separate classrooms, to keep them from 'misbehaving' further. Lucky him.

The sound of faint snoring filled the room. Les looked up from his paper to the source of the sound, the detention watcher. She wasn't a teacher---a student teacher from his guess. She looked young, mid-20s maybe. The teachers were too busy to watch the detentions, despite dishing them out like they were candy.

He was growing restless. Time seemed to be at a standstill----every minute felt like an hour. With every tick of the clock, the more he felt the need to get up and do something.

He pushed himself out of his seat, the chair making a loud scraping sound on the floor. He looked over at the student teacher, not even a stir. He walked over to the door and opened it as quietly as he could. He peered his head out of the doorway to check the hallway. No one. Lucky him, again.

He stepped out, one foot at a time, slowly inching himself into the empty halls. He ran the pads of his fingers on the lockers, feeling the cool metal. The sound of his quiet footsteps on the linoleum echoed through the empty hall. School wasn't so bad without all the people. It was nice---peaceful, even.

He just observed all the posters on the wall as he wandered. The metal felt good on his finger tips. He walked by the Geography and Minnesota History classroom. He hated all his core classes, but this one was the worst in his opinion. The door was held ajar, the teacher must have forgotten to close it. Without anyone in it, it looked like a husk of it's usual populated status. A lot of kids at his school swarmed the classroom in attempts to mess with the teacher. He always found it cruel, but who was he to stop them?

He walked past the computer lab and pre-algebra classes next. If there was any room more populated than the Geography classroom, it was the computer lab. Many kids used to skip classes and hide out in the computer lab, the lights never worked properly so it made the perfect hiding place. The staff eventually caught on and started locking the doors. It hasn't stopped some of the school's seasoned 'delinquents' though.

He took a sharp right turn and walked down the music hall. There were types of kids who did music; the ones just looking for an easy A and the pretentious wannabes. The choir kids were especially pretentious. They always thought they were better than everyone else just because they could sing a few high notes.

He eventually reached the end of the hall. There were two directions he could take; the left, which led to the auditorium and gym---or the right, leading to the cafeteria and front office. Before he could make his choice, he heard the loud hum of a water fountain near the gym. His heart skipped a beat when he saw who was using it. It was her. Molly.

Why was she there? Sure, she was a little sassy...but she certainly wasn't the type to be in detention.

Before he could even think, he was moving closer. By the time he realized what was happening, it was too late for him to turn back. He cleared his throat, "um...hi."

She jumped slightly, startled. She turned to him, "oh hey."

"What are...what are you doing here?"

She laughed, it put some of his awkwardness at ease. He felt like he could melt right then and there. "That's for me to know."

Les scoffed, a small smirk playing at his lips. He placed his hand on his chest, feigning hurt. "Wow, the mysterious Molly can't even divulge one thing to a peasant like me?"

"Indeed you are correct sir," she mused.

Les took the time to observe her more. She wasn't wearing the clothes she normally would wear---instead opting for athletic shorts and a simple T-shirt. "No, but seriously, what are you doing here?"

"I have basketball practice."

Oh. He laughed, "I can't believe I didn't guess that based on..." his eyes quickly darted down at her shorts, his face flushing slightly. He quickly looked back up, "uh, nevermind..."

"What are you doing here?"

He laughed, "Mr. Wish gave me detention."

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow, "what for?"

Averman rolled his eyes, "talking in class."

"That's stupid."

Les made this big, exasperated gesture, "oh my god, tell me about it!"

She laughed, "like, dude for real put you in detention for doing the same thing everyone else was."

"Yeah..."

Before they could talk further, the shrill voice of the head coach for basketball screamed for Molly to get back in the gym to practice some drills. She quickly obliged, walking back to the gym. She stopped right as she was about the enter the threshold, "it was nice talking to you. Les, was it?" She laughed one final time, "you should probably get back to whatever classroom you were in. I'll see you around, yeah?"

His face flushed once more. She remembered his name? She remembered his name! And she said she would see him around! He did what she'd suggested, walking back to the classroom. Thank goodness for him that the lady was still asleep. He slipped back in his seat quietly and sat there for the duration of his 'punishment', thinking about the interaction they had together.

#90s #mighty ducks #fanfic #lester averman #movie trilogy #hockey #writing #fan writing #oc #basketball #detention #peter mark #movie #wattpad

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dzpenumbra · 10 months

Text

7/30/23

I'm going to write this and then do yoga to wind down before bed. I'm... angry. I'm upset. So I'm going to just start with that and get that out and process those emotions before moving on to the positives.

If I never hear another person say "I'd love to help you with your work" and then fucking suggest I get into another line of work, it will be too soon. Get fucked. Seriously. I'm just really fucking done being polite about this. Get fucked. All of you.

"I came to you specifically because I love your art style, I always have!" (Has never bought a single one of my pieces, won't even go on to Instagram to see what work I've been up to since fucking college.) "You know, you should really get into graphic design. Then you can make your real work in your free time that you won't have because your commissions will take up all your time and creative energy now!"

Hey, guess what. If I wanted to learn a new medium right now, it would be 3D modelling, not fucking designing logos. If I wanted to design logos, and it was something that creatively called out to me, something that I didn't struggle with... I would probably start with MY OWN FUCKING BRANDING. But yeah, I'm just some hack dime-a-dozen wannabe artist who's just doodling and playing with hobby projects all day... who should get a "real job" like designing a label for Grandma Margaret's Jam or some shit. With a program I've never used. In a style I've never done.

Here's the fun part. You ready? Just the tip of the iceberg with the fun part, don't worry, it gets much better as it goes along. So... a huge defining line for me between working as a fine artist and working as a designer for someone else is... ready for it? I have to draw what they are looking for. They are not approaching me for my vision. They are approaching me for my version of their vision. However... 90% of these people are not creative enough to come up with shit that looks good enough that I'd want to put my name on it. That I even want to sink hours and hours into making it, and learning the techniques required to make it. It bores me. It is, by definition, uninspired.

I, as an artist, have a very broad stream of inspiration I'm working with right now. I have many projects being developed simultaneously right now, to the point where some have been put on hold (like two of the mini-Zen gardens). I'm already overwhelmed. And the advice I'm given... to help me with having too much inspiration and not enough time, resources or manpower to get them all done before more ideas start spewing out... and nowhere to put the finished pieces so that people can even find them... The advice is... "fill the majority of your time with making someone else's ideas." "Cut your studio hours in half (at least), fill the bulk of it with paid gigs where you draw someone else's 'cool idea', then squeeze in some 'fun time' to work on your cute little 'passion projects' on the side."

I said it gets better. You ready? Not only is graphic design arguably the most competitive artistic field in human history, but I am going into that field with a net total of about 4 hours of experience with the required medium. I do not have an eye for logo design, in fact... quite the opposite. I went over this on the phone today, I have no clue if he actually processed this. Logos really need to be simple and minimal, with reduced detail in order to be legible. Especially when being scaled. They tend to need to be low detail. My specialty is hand-crafting and detail work. I specialize in literally the opposite of this. And it makes me start to think he was just blowing smoke and fluffing me up in order to get me onboard by saying he wanted my art style. I'm not sure he entirely knows what artstyle is even going to work with what he's looking for.

Okay, I gave fair warning... here's the best part. Of all of the artistic jobs that are currently under threat of being lost to AI, this is by fucking miles the biggest. If there was any artistic field that would be obliterated by AI, it's graphic design. Why? Grandma Margaret can just go on that website and type in "jam label that says 'Grandma Margaret's Jam' that looks like _____". And an AI will instantly produce multiple drafts of that for her. For free.

What I'm getting at with all of this is... my friend contacted me for a task that, to me... is kind of the equivalent of me calling him up and asking him to help with a clogged sink. He works in pipe fabrication and specialty welding. I mean... it's all pipes... right? And offering to pay him for it. And when he says "sure, for a friend" and we get to talking about his business and he starts talking about how he's kinda struggling a bit to get things where they need to be in order to keep the bills paid, my way of "helping him" is to tell him he should quit his fucking job... do it as a hobby in his free time... and be a plumber.

Does he have a right to say "I don't want to be a plumber?" If his business is struggling, can he really afford to turn down taking on a primary gig of unclogging peoples' toilets?

Better than all that, let me just come out and say it. HOW THE FUCK IS THIS "HELP"? You know what helps an artist who has been struggling with mental health stuff that makes social interaction difficult? Help with the social side. Fucking DURRRR. How about you BUY A FUCKING PAINTING?! How about that? How about you get a piece of my original art, a piece of jewelry, maybe commission me to paint something on your guitar case? Something like that? And fucking show that shit off. You don't support a tattooist by telling them to get into fucking web design. That's how you create another website designer. Fucking imbiciles, I just don't understand how people make these logical leaps. I mean, it has to come from a lack of familiarity with the field. It has to. They must have no fucking clue how different freehand painting and carving wooden staves with hand-tools is from working in fucking Dreamweaver.

"Oh, you went to culinary school and trained to be a chef? And you're very talented? But you struggle with crippling social anxiety, agoraphobia and PTSD? Oh man, let me help you! Here, here's your help. Give up on being a chef and go be a fucking bartender."

Fuck you.

That doesn't even help me work towards my goals. In fact, it requires me to put my goals aside in order to focus on something else. And then I'll "learn to love it". And then 10 years later, I'll look at a calendar and see 2033 and see myself at 46 still barely squeezing in time to make my own work. Realizing I haven't drawn anything inspired by my own thoughts, my own inspiration, since X was called "Twitter".

That sounds like Hell.

I'll take my chances, thank you. I'd rather go get rejected at art galleries over and over than do that shit, thanks though.

And on top of this... and this is pretty par for the course for this guy... but he told me to plug my ears when we were in a social/business call... so he could shoot a fox with a .45 pistol with hollow point rounds. Because it had been fucking with his chickens. Here's an idea, Mr. Handyman. Build a better chicken coop.

I'm a bit upset that I was present for that. I love foxes. I really do. They get such a bad wrap. One of the last times I cried about something that wasn't the loss of a family member was witnessing the corpse of a fox in my old neighborhood that used to visit my house that got hit by a car. I was mortified. We had met in the driveway several times. Foxes are lovely animals. And he took it out with one shot, one handed while on the phone and bragged. And I just nodded and smiled and went along with it, blending in. I actually told him, if he felt up to it, I'd be willing to take some of its remains (pelt, teeth, claws, bones) to make something out of it. I'm not sure what, probably jewelry from teeth or claws, not sure about the fur, the bones would have to be cleaned but I could carve or paint them. His response? "I don't think there's much left of it, to be honest." Like... the most modern American answer imaginable.

It really upset me that he didn't even try there. And that he isn't entertaining the idea of potentially using a smaller caliber or a trap in order to... have the remains be usable. I don't like that he feels he needs to resort to killing it. Let's get that straight. I'm vegetarian, so I figure that would be implicit... But I do understand that he feels that's a more effective, practical solution for him. And I'm not willing to confront him on that. What did deeply upset me was that he didn't even make an effort to try to preserve the remains to show that animal respect. I really would like to find a way for us all to take a more "use every part of the buffalo" approach to life. It's so wasteful, so disrespectful, to not only treat that creatures life as though it is absolutely meaningless to you, but to overkill it in such a needlessly cavalier way and refuse to honor their remains by having them turned into something precious. How savage. The cowboys you mimic would be ashamed. The pioneer industrialists would give you a standing ovation. "Throw that in the garbage pile where it belongs."

Welp, don't be surprised if what you put out into the world - a smug sense of superiority, a lack of compassion or empathy, a detachment from ethics - ends up facing you someday. I don't know how I keep ending up face-to-face with these people. Maybe I just never filtered them out. I don't know.

In the past, I would've normalized his behavior. "Haha, that's just what he does." Now? I'm not going to stop him, I'm not going to shame him - it is not my role to play - but I'm absolutely not approving or downplaying. But man, if you've got any sense about you... I'd say the number one thing you do NOT want to piss off by being disrespectful? It's Nature. So... maybe show a little more respect?

So yeah... not really sure if he's still... "friend material". Maybe with limits? But I'll try to give his logo thing a shot. As a favor for a friend. A paid favor. But, to be completely honest... I don't want him going around and recommending me for graphic design. I do not enjoy this process. I don't like having to read the mind of a non-creative. I do not like having to submit endless drafts by a person who is acting like an artist, using me as their creative puppet. It's not enjoyable. It's not my work. And it's really not how my creative process functions. It's something that utilizes my trained skills that I've developed over the years, with little smidges of creative influence. And it's something very visible. So yeah, I don't mind if he tells people he got it done by a local artist who doesn't usually do this kind of stuff. In fact, that would make it much more special and impressive, so he can brag about it. And god knows, if it's one thing that man likes to do, it's brag and show off. Always has been. I just really hope he doesn't go around saying "you should get my friend to design blahblahblah for you". It's a very different thing than saying, "you should see my friend's art exhibit," or "you like that painting? It's one of a kind. My friend made it. You should check his shit out."

And on that note... I think I'm going to take down my derelict unused print shop finally. It cheapens my work. And, again, it's not what I do. It's a perfectly fine thing to do if your intention is to make prints. But my intention has never been to make prints, it has been to make one-of-a-kind pieces. I was peer-pressured into selling prints. And only sold single prints to... the people who peer-pressured me. Oh fuck. So... Wow... Okay... So... I pulled up my sales on that shop. I only sold one duplicate. A mandala I made for my aunt, which was purchased by my aunt, and by my mom. So... Jesus Christ, the reality of this really hurts. That piece. That I made for my cancer survivor aunt, but my mom wanted a copy and convinced me to scan it so they both got prints from an online print shop... that piece netted me $20, it took me at least 6 hours to make. A mechanical dragonfly piece that I drew for my younger brother as a tattoo design but he "didn't want"... was bought for $11. One of my trademark pieces, a realistic chipmunk that I drew in college... I sold one to my brother and one to my Mom. I never should have cloned that piece, it's too special, it's 15 years old. It has netted me $20 total. And a copy of the tattoo design that I made for the ex-wife of this friend I'm doing graphic design for, that was sold to my former best friend for $10. So... total, my body of work from this print shop has netted me about $60 since the start of the pandemic. Ready for the mind-fuck?

The chipmunk original... could likely go for over $2000. Alone. More, if someone valued it higher. That's how art works. The mandala? Maybe $150? I don't know about that one. I'm not very good with pricing at all. Point being - all of these pieces were bought by family members or former friends. All of them were bought for pennies, only two of them were duplicates. So... if one of them had bought one of my original pieces... I would've made probably bare minimum 3x the amount that I ended up making total for all of them. And it would not have made any negative difference, that original is just sitting in a fucking portfolio right now. As long as that piece has a good home where the owner loves it, that's where it belongs.

But I live in a world where people don't value my art. They don't mind buying a cheap copy, but they don't want the original. I have personally been witness to my own pieces being propped up in a closet next to a litterbox and draped over a rocking chair in a hallway with a hole torn in the middle, and shoved in the back of barn with scrap wood.

I don't need to ask people "how can you help me?" I don't think I ever have, honestly. I can tell them very clearly how to support me. Buy my shit. And be a goddamn fan. Stop being a fake fan. Show a genuine interest in what I do. Ask me if there is any story behind the mandala on my skateboard. Guess what? There is for every fucking piece. Hell, ask me what the fuck I'm working on! Tell your friends about how cool my work is.

You know what's depression fuel? Having to explain to people how to support you as a creator... right after they've sung the praises of another one. I don't have to teach this guy how to sing the praises of his favorite tool company, or his favorite brand of survival gear, or his favorite beer or cigarettes, or his favorite restaurant. Or, bringing this more back in-genre, his favorite podcast or music. You don't need to coach someone on how to share things that they genuinely enjoy. Because... they do it willingly. So... you get where I'm going here? When they say that? It very overtly, to my face, tells me that they don't like my shit. That they say they like my shit, but they don't even know what I do, and really aren't willing to put in the time or effort to even find out what I do. They just know that I can "draw good" and if I draw for a company that's already established, or get a drawing on a fucking beer can or something, that equals $$$. That's all. That's all they process. And they look at me like I'm stupid for continuing to pursue my career, my life, rather than follow their out-of-nowhere unsolicited career-swap idea. When all they'd need to do to help my business? And help my life as a whole... Is to be a good friend.

How deeply, deeply sobering.

Welp, until he brings up "The Path" unprompted... I'm going to charge him full price. And I'll have to brainstorm what that number actually is. Not a smart idea to tell me you get paid $90/hour... while in a business meeting where you're going to be paying me... That fox's life alone is gonna tack a few hundred onto the end of this gig.

All of that said... it was good to talk to someone again. And he did seem... generally supportive. He saw my side with how I got scammed by the dealership and lost my car. He was sympathetic about how the old house I was renting was falling apart and filled with mold and how that was fucking with my health. He seemed optimistic about me living in an area with more younger creative people.

He just seemed more concerned with sharing his opinions than asking questions, so... yeah. That's a thing. I'm sure he's having quite a few relationship problems because of that nasty trait.

So... I'm not going to take that too close to heart. He means well, but if he's not helping me pursue my goals... then he's trying to set new ones for me. And that's not support, that's coercion. I learned that from my family! Yay! They actually taught me something! Supporting your artist/musician son by saying "of course you can make your art... in your free time... but in the meantime you need to get a 'real job', like working in the stock market, like we happen to do and consider a 'real job'." Yeah man... um... that's supporting someone to do something you want them to do... not what they want to do... that's not... support... it's more of a veiled threat. The veil being - the generosity. The threat being - if you pursue art full time, we will not support you. And they get away with it by just acting as though being a full-time artist is... not a career. But convincing your friends to give you their hard earned money, so you can just... give that money to brokers to invest it in successful companies... and taking a slice off the top for choosing those companies? Now that is a career. That's a "real job".

I'm sure people have differing schools of thought on that respective to what kind of family they grew up in... I am firmly standing by that statement. If your child wants to be a firefighter, and you say "maybe you can be a firefighter in your free time..." You are not supporting their goals. You are literally telling them to put it on the backburners and find something else to do. Something more realistic. That's not support. That's not helping them come up with a plan. That's not quantifying resources. That's not finding out what you have to offer, seeing what social resources or connections you can provide. It's saying "I don't believe you are going to succeed at that, but I don't think you should give up entirely... I just think you should give up... mostly."

And here's the thing. Adam Duff said it really well, it stuck with me really fucking deep and it's been ringing through my head for days now. Being an artist is not just a job, it's a way of experiencing life. That's not just fruity language or a fun little quote to throw out there in a conversation to "sound deep". That's a literal truth. The way that artists experience life itself, they way we think, the way we learn. It deviates from the norm. We are different. And that is what makes us gifted. That is our gift, our unique vision of the world. Our unique voice, our unique perception, our unique way of thinking. Our identities are what make us artists.

This is not just technical skill. It's a way of thinking and expressing yourself. The conversation you have with an CPA is going to be vastly different from the conversation you have with a fine artist. Why the fuck wouldn't it be?! So when you take an artist and you cram them into a place in life where their creative flow, their way of thinking, their way of living... gets in the way? What the fuck do you think is going to happen?

You're going to get problems. You're going to get failure to meet deadlines. You're going to hit barriers in mutual understanding. You're going to get people wandering around daydreaming on the job. You're going to get existential crises.

Okay, let's connect to a point from earlier. (The dog next door has been barking for at least 20 minutes now, and it's 1:30 AM. I feel so bad for the poor thing.) So... if being a "traditional artist" (I fucking hate that term, just say art for all of it) is actually still a real job... a viable career... I'm simply not going to get support, and the "support" I get is a recommendation to get into graphic design. So... let's say I'm dumb enough to do that, to give up my creative calling and adopt someone else's. I get into graphic design. I get a bunch of commissions, but in 2 years - fuck it, look at how fast ChatGPT blew up, let's give it 1 year - in 1 year, AI graphic design is the new hot thing. Squarespace has their hands in it, Adobe has their hands in it. Graphic designers are dropping left and right. So... what are those graphic designers supposed to do with their now obsolete job? Hmm? I'll tell ya. Go make fucking coffee, bud. Until they smarten up and turn those into self-serve machines.

Yeah yeah, "they took our jobs!" I know. But this is actually happening. And... I was just the other day expressing such deep relief that I don't work in digital art. That my forms of creative expression are so far from being replaced. Because I'm doing the opposite of what AI is built to do. I don't use the most modern tools... in fact, a lot of the time I don't even use tools at all. I do not aim to produce work as fast as possible, I give it all the time and attention it calls for until the piece itself is satisfied. Like a good lover should. <wink> I do not aim to mass-produce work. I focus on individuality, character and end up with a one-of-a-kind product that has an actual story behind it, that has a soul. And, most importantly, I do not rely on user input to create a piece. My work comes from inspiration, from my connection to my own subconscious and the collective unconscious. All I have to do is keep that connection clear and be willing and ready to capture the ideas when they come to me.

THAT is what I do. THAT is what I have been doing since I was a teenager. And I'm getting really fucking good at it. I literally do it in my sleep.

Again, this is not to besmirch other forms of creativity, every medium and process has its place and every one is valuable. This is simply the form that meshes best with me, that has created my best works. This is the process and form of work that leaves me looking at pieces I did years ago in awe and joy. Like, "I did that. I finished it. I made that real. I brought that into the world." I can't even explain the level of healthy pride that I felt when I finished The Path. So much that I rewatched it yesterday (or today, it's all blending together due to sleep deprivation) and it brought a tear to my eye. Even the music I wrote for that piece is fucking... it's just all right where it belongs.

And I simply feel like the people in my life do not even really understand what it is that I do. Thus... who I am. And, they clearly do not see value in what I do... otherwise they would... watch my videos... or listen to my music... or read my poetry book... and want to have my art... or at least support me on Patreon or something... So... if they don't see value in my art... and my art is a reflection of my experience of life... they would surely struggle to see value in me. And they clearly picture me as... a person who does graphic design. And... I am not. I am not a graphic designer. I'm just a good friend who is willing to go outside my comfort zone for a friend, and for a personal challenge.

So yeah, despite the several setbacks... the conversation was not bad. We were able to get some headway and I was able to get a clearer vision of what he's looking for. I hope. I got Illustrator and started mocking something up. I... of course... started doing it all manually, line by line. Then... after I finished the lion's share of the work, found a bunch of shortcuts to clone stuff. And... I went to it like a moth to a flame. And then spent like 2 hours trying to figure out how to use these processes... to clone details... to turn what would be like... 1-2 hours straight of detail drawing into literal seconds. And I just... didn't know how to do it. I couldn't figure it out. Even with googling.

I made progress with it, but like... it just got frustrating. And I just really feel... this clash. Graphic design and logos and shit are supposed to be about like... being sleek and clean and legible from both close up and a distance. And the piece he wants would look great with lots of detail. I had so many ideas that were detail based. Realism styles, lots of shading, lots of color. But... it's going to end up looking like an ink-stamp. Because it's a letterhead logo, and a t-shirt logo. So... yeah. If I put too much detail in, it gets lost on the letterhead. If I put too little, it looks bland on the t-shirt. It's just a very different language than I've ever really thought in. It's definitely a challenge. And... the end result is not going to reflect "my style" at all. So yeah, it's a confusing situation. But I made progress, quite a bit, actually.

I just really need to make sure I don't put the skateboard on the backburner for this. I have to finish at least the mandala, so I can actually go out and skate. I need the exercise and the stress release.

Hmm. I came out of that conversation feeling like it was a good conversation and nice to catch up with a friend, but looking back at my reaction here? I guess it was actually mostly not good. Quite a few red flags there. I want to say... "I don't think he's a bad guy, I'm just not ethically in the same place as him in some places, we're very different people, and I think he's a bit self-centered and doesn't really seem very empathetic." I'm genuinely unsure if this unqualifies him as a good potential friend. I mean, he did seem on my side with the car dealership thing, and the old house falling apart, but... he didn't entirely ask about that. He just kinda asked how I ended up here. I don't know. I'm just trying to be cautious. I fear I have been a bad judge of character in the past... because all of my past friends turned out to be eerily similar to this... and... I'm seeing those similarities pretty clearly. So... yeah. We'll see.

I cant' tell if I was blinded by reconnection, the whole Ace of Cups emotional blinding of reconnecting with an old friend... so that I overlooked the bad things that happened... or if my hangups with the bad things that happened are making it harder for me to see the potential here. I don't know. It's clearly both, but the proportion is pretty important.

I'll try to sleep on it. I only got like 5 hours of sleep, after 2 the night before. I need to do yoga and go to bed. But hey, at least my entire apartment got spotlessly cleaned for an hour and a half phone call, right?

I re-read this back. I need to find a positive note to end this on.

I went way outside of my comfort zone. And socialized. And tried a new program and actually reached success, I got a successful sketch mockup in a new piece of software on day one. And it's actually pretty damn decent. That's big. And... and... I did that on massive sleep debt. And the only fuck-ups I made was... I may have been too nice. Too forgiving. (story of my life) Wow, my depression really needed to get a word in there... XD That's not bad. I'm usually really insecure about all that. But I did a bang-up job. I showed up on time, I brought my A-game, I went above and beyond. I drew up 2 pages of concept sketches and notes unprompted. I went super in-depth. I asked all the right questions. So... from a professional angle? I did a spectacular job. From a friend angle? Maybe I would have better results with friends that align with my ethical values and goals a bit more? Maybe keep it more at an acquaintance level? That sounds like a fair compromise. And now that I've cultivated more confidence, I can try to go to the model drawing session.

OH MY GOD, HOW DID I FORGET TO SHARE THIS! Okay, so I did the deep tissue massage last night. 2 hours on just my feet, shins and calves. XD My Soleus muscles are just... fucked. Good lord. They're so tender and tight. I could barely walk after. I'm still sore. I'm going to wait at least a week before going back in for more. But they actually started loosening up. But man, that process was just... so intense. I had to dig really deep into my muscles, find the spots that I were just like "nope", and then take a breath and just work those spots until I didn't feel it anymore. And it worked. Until my hands started giving out and I was just getting wiped from all of it after 2 hours.

But I had the idea of bringing up anatomy pictures to help jog my memory of what I was working with under the skin, and to make sure I was getting all the muscles. To get an anatomy refresher as I went. And it really helped. And the picture I chose was a picture from a study guide for people studying to get qualified for massage therapy. XD And it actually passed through my mind... "could I do that?" And I honestly... I mean, that would be good money. And I would be really good at it. And it would be great for my knowledge and study of anatomy for my art. (that's what jogged my memory, the figure drawing classes and anatomy study) But that would be a gigantic plunge for me as far as social anxiety and physical intimacy goes. To go from struggling to shake peoples' hands to... massaging mostly naked strangers? I don't know. I mean, nudity is barely even a sexual thing for me at this point, it's not a problem with that at all. It's just how insanely sensory overwhelming it is for me to be in physical contact with other living beings, it has been all my life - it's a big part of why I bond so insanely deeply with people I have been physically close with. But it's something to think about. One of 50,000 potential side-gigs, along with guiding barefoot hikes, doing tarot readings, hosting improvised drawing groups, being a creative coach/mentor, giving lessons, shit like that. The more on the pile, the better. Then, if the opportunity comes along for any of them, fuck yeah. (note that graphic design and web design are not on the list... XD)

Okay, yeah, so... I'm absolutely seeing the value of anatomy study and refreshers with that, and that's making me feel much better about going to one of those model drawing sessions. I might see when the next one is and try to go. :) That's a good note to end on.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of thoughts #stream of consciousness

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unfoldingmoments · 11 months

Text

The Viral Speech

Just after receiving an honorary degree from his alma mater, Pritzker offered up a 23-minute address full of personal stories about parenting and governing. He paired his tips with quotes from the popular sitcom, like the character Jim Halpert on being a dad of two: “Having a baby is exhausting. Having two babies — now that’s just mean.”

“Like most of the parents here, having children turned me from a fun, cool, spontaneous person who could stay up past midnight to a functional madman who answers the phone, ‘Yello’ and won’t let anyone in my house touch the thermostat,” Pritzker, a father of two college-aged children, said.

Pritzker said he and his wife M.K. were concerned their son Donny couldn’t read time as a kindergartner, based on a tip from his teacher. The intel put the Pritzkers into a deep spiral of what they did wrong — with the couple purchasing multiple clocks, including a talking analog clock, and obsessively proclaiming the time like a “Mad Hatter” so Donny could learn.

But Pritzker said Donny fessed up — a year later — that he had lied and just couldn’t think of anything to tell his teacher when she asked what he needed help with.

“If you think your parents are crazy, it’s important that you understand you made us this way,” he said to laughs. “We are experts in worrying about you. And this affliction just gets worse with time and distance.”

Invoking another character from the show, Dwight Schrute, who once said, “Whenever I’m about to do something, I think, ‘Would an idiot do that?’ And if they would, I do not do that thing,” Pritzker threw a dig at former President Donald Trump.

“I wish there was a foolproof way to spot idiots, but counterintuitively, some idiots are very smart. They can dazzle you with words and misdirection. They can get promoted above you at work,” Pritzker said. “They can even get elected president.”

“If you want to be successful in this world, you have to develop your own idiot detection system,” Pritzker advised. The governor said he counts “empathy and compassion” as part of his “idiot detection system” — while also judging those who have never seen the original “Star Wars” movies.

“Over my many years in politics and business, I have found one thing to be universally true: the kindest person in the room is often the smartest,” Pritzker said.

Pritzker said “real wisdom” comes with age — and usually not when you expect it. The governor said the beginning of the pandemic in 2020 gave him “a greater appreciation for just how much you don’t know.” He said the early days “felt like waking up every day on a raft in the middle of the ocean, frantically searching the horizons for some land to anchor your feet on.”

“I knew that my job was to minimize the damage this deadly disease was doing, but no one could guide me toward the absolute best way to do that,” Pritzker said. “As Michael Scott said, ‘I knew exactly what to do. But in a much more real sense, I had no idea what to do.’”

He said that in some of the major crises that have come his way, moving forward, even slowly, has always been the answer.

“The absolute best thing you can do is start to make decisions, even small ones. Just get yourself moving. Pick something you can tackle and do it,” Pritzker said. “Let your small decisions beget medium decisions, which will beget big decisions. Some of your decisions will be brilliant in retrospect. Others will be less so. If you make a mistake, apologize and move on. Talk to people you trust and more importantly, listen to them.”

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whenever I'm about to do something I think would an idiot do that and if they would I do not do that thing - Dwight Schrute

the entire efficacy of this incredibly useful piece of information hinges upon your ability to pick the right idiot

I wish there was a foolproof way to spot idiots but counter-intuitively some idiots are very smart they can they can Dazzle you with words and misdirection they can get promoted above you at work. They can even be elected president.

If you want to be successful in the world you have to develop your own idiot detection system as part of the responsibilities of being your commencement speaker I'm going to share mine sure I'm naturally suspicious of people who never saw the original Star Wars movies and even more cautious of people who loved the prequels and the sequels but I admit this is not a reliable idiot indicator

The best way to spot an idiot look for the person who is cruel. let me explain when we see someone who doesn't look like us or sound like us or act like us or Love Like Us or Live Like Us the first thought that crosses almost everyone's brain is rooted in either fear or judgment or both. that's evolution

we survived as a species by being suspicious of things that we aren't familiar with in order to be kind we have to shut down that animal Instinct and force our brain to travel a different pathway

empathy and compassion are evolved states of being they require the mental capacity to step past our most Primal urges this may be a surprising assessment because somewhere along the way in the last few years our society has come to believe that weaponized cruelty is part of some well thought out master plan.

Cruelty is seen by some as an adroit cudgel to gain power empathy and kindness are considered weak many important people look at the vulnerable only as rungs on a ladder to the top I'm here to tell you that when someone's path through this world is marked with acts of Cruelty they have failed the first test of an advanced Society.

They never forced their animal brain to evolve past its first instinct they never forged new mental Pathways to overcome their own instinctual fears and so their thinking and problem solving will lack the imagination and creativity that the kindest people have in spades.

Over my many years in politics and business I have found one thing to be universally true, the kindest person in the room is often the smartest.

Ref: https://chicago.suntimes.com/news/2023/6/12/23758132/northwestern-university-commencement-graduation-address-pritzker-the-office-tv-show-steve-carell The full speech https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ihpF0Z71CGE

#life #speech #pritzker #government

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