one of the boys is up in the human world and has to sign something for whatever reason. he gets to the surname part, thinks for a second, and smiles before signing with mc's surname
- 🎠
Oh my so precious!!
I've thought about this because I figure if any of our single named characters are in the human world and need a last name, what would they use?
And of course the idea that they'd use MC's is adorable.
I like the idea of it just being the first surname they think of and then instead of second guessing it or being embarrassed, they're just like yes. This feels right.
Of course, there's also the question of would they take MC's surname if they married MC. And seeing as how they don't have their own, I think it would be really cute if they did.
I'm also fond of the idea that all the brothers use Morningstar as a last name when they need one. Just because Lucifer is the only one who has a second name like that and they're all so loyal to him, it seems like something they would do. Though that isn't exactly a commonly used name in the human world lol.
But all the side characters wouldn't do that and I think some of them have spent more time in the human world than others. So while some might have back up names they use, others would be on the spot.
For instance, can you imagine Simeon in the human world needing a last name? He's just sitting there like ????? and then it comes to him - MC's! Perfect.
But I could see any of the characters doing this just because it's basically the paperwork equivalent of writing your name with your crush's last name in your notebook lol. They all have to restrain themselves from drawing a big ole heart around it. I could see some of them actually blushing and giggling about it too (*cough* Asmo *cough*).
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hdjfjdhfs i love your first prompt! here’s another one if you’re up for it: ❝ you’ve got me in the palm of your hands. you could crush me and i would still thank you for touching me at all. ❞
hope you get well soon!!
“You’ve grown old, Hob Gadling.”
Hob tensed at the all too familiar voice. A voice he’d never forget, despite the years that had passed since he’d last heard it. The melodic, rich voice that transfixed many, Hob being no exception. He swallowed as he turned, knowing the voice could hear it, could hear his heartbeat suddenly in his ears.
“Tends to happen to mortals, you know?” Hob regarded him in the darkness. He was a shadow on the wall, peeling away and floating towards him now.
Morpheus glides until he meets Hob at the window he’s stationed at. The night is cold and bitter, snow has begun to gently fall, like ash after a bonfire. After a public execution.
“Have you come back to me, my one?”
Hob’s breath hitches as Morpheus slips into his space, a cold hand, pale as death, presses against his chest, long fingers clawing up and around his throat. Hob swallows again, feeling his Adam’s apple bob along Morpheus’ feather soft grip. His blood races in both fear and excitement. Hob sees the way Morpheus’ eyes darken, his brows narrow, enticed.
“Your blood still behaves for me.” Morpheus leans forward and Hob forces his eyes to remain open, his body going still. “I wonder if your body would, as well.”
His voice soothes like balm on a burn, cool and soft and healing. But they’ve played this game many times, and Hob knows not to give in so easily, even if his very skin screams at him to resign himself. To crumple under Morpheus’ intense stare. To bare his neck.
“I’m here on a job, Morpheus.”
Morpheus’ head tilts curiously, like a cat. His hand remains at the base of Hob’s throat, his fingernails lightly scratching the hairs at the back, sending gooseflesh dancing up Hob’s arms.
“Oh?” A ghost of a smirk pulls his lips up. “Come to finally kill me, then?”
“Not you.” Hob answers too quickly. Never you. Even if the gods demanded it of Hob, even if it meant his own demise, he’d never allow harm to come to this ancient, gorgeous, dangerous creature before him.
“I’ve been called to abet,” Hob presses on, finally coming back into his own skin and stepping away from his old friend. “I’m sure you’ve heard about the murders.”
Morpheus lets him turn, but his hand remains on his coat, falling onto his shoulder. Hob faces the open window once more, observing the night, watching for activity. He has weapons hidden on his person, a pocket pistol loaded with silver bullets, wooden stakes and a plowshare, holy water given to him by a priest just this morning, and a long necklace tucked under his shirt ornate with a heavy cross.
“Mm,” Morpheus hums, his fingers lightly trace down Hob’s back, he can somehow feel his touch even through the layers of fabric. “Yes. I am privy to them.”
Cold panic seizes Hob. His head swings around to meet Morpheus’ black eyes. “You’re not–”
“It’s not me, Hob.” Morpheus says, almost offended, and leans forward again, his lips at Hob’s ear. “But I know who.”
“Tell me.” Hob’s eyes study Morpheus, taking in his wild hair and sharp features. Somehow, Morpheus is even more handsome than the last time they met. Vampires never age, of course, they are no longer among the mortal realm. And their beauty is effervescent, ethereal, intoxicating. Hob had fallen for that heady tonic more than a decade ago, when he was still young and honing his craft.
Morpheus was cunning and persuasive, almost divine with it. Refusing him felt like a sin and Hob knew it wasn’t with pretty words or a hypnotizing voice that lured him that first time, or the second, or the countless, countless others he’d freely given his body to him. Morpheus was a rare breed. Dangerous and devious of course, but also distinguished and demure. Hob was smitten from their first meeting, before he knew of his true nature.
He’d never taken Hob’s blood. Morpheus had gotten close, so close that he would shake with it, writhe and growl, testing the waters with fangs against Hob’s pulse points. On his wrist, his thighs, his throat. Hob would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the thrill of it, the danger.
“You’ve got me in the palm of your hands,” Hob had said once. “You could crush me and I would still thank you for touching me at all.”
Hob had been a fool, of course, lying with a vampire. The consequences of which were innumerable, forcing him to flee. Run away from his mistakes, his heart, screaming and clawing in its retreat.
“No.” Morpheus spoke, flat and final. “He is dangerous. We are handling it ourselves.”
Hob blew a long, harsh breath through his nose, glaring at his friend before finally brushing his hand off him.
“If you won’t help me then I suggest you leave.”
Morpheus’ hands are back on Hob before he can blink, forcefully turning and shoving him against the dusty windowsill.
“I will not have you hunt him, do you understand?” He hissed, fangs long and glinting in the moonlight.
Hob’s eyes blew wide. All his years of training, of killing, never prepared him for this. Facing his own conflictions. Seeing Morpheus again brought out old, buried feelings of want and lust that Hob had tried so hard to bury, to destroy. Putting a distance between them hadn’t helped at all. If anything, with the vampire standing before him now, his hands finally, finally, back on Hob, where they belonged, he realized the separation had only stoked the flame. Made Hob want more.
“You must stay hidden, safe.” Morpheus’ grip turned painful, deathly serious. “Until I rip his throat out myself.”
Hob took a shuddering breath. The cold breeze at his back was biting, but not so much as Morpheus’ breath on his face, his body so close to his own. Tantalizing, teasing him. Everything inside Hob screamed to close the distance between them, to reacquaint their bodies, to touch and mark and bruise.
“Morpheus…” Hob spoke his name slowly, an omen to himself. “Who is he?”
Morpheus doesn’t speak for a while, the silence is thick, punctuated only by Hob’s labored breathing and certainly his heartbeat, which he’s sure Morpheus can hear.
“He was one of ours…” Morpheus starts, hesitating on every word. “A young rogue we couldn’t keep under control.”
Hob remains silent as he listens, watching Morpheus’ expressions for a hint of change, of deceit.
“His name is Corinthian.”
“Corinthian,” Hob repeats, shelving that information away.
Morpheus’ glowers at him. He can read Hob all too well. It’s Hob’s biggest weakness, opening himself up to Morpheus, bending to his whims and desires. Or it had been… though Hob wondered what the point in leaving was, if he knew Morpheus could find him anywhere. Could sense him even in the daylight, as soon as he’d stepped off the train and walked among his territory once more.
Morpheus presses his body flush against Hob’s and Hob nearly comes undone, biting back the pleasure, the sheer ecstasy that radiates off Morpheus, threatening to penetrate him. His lips part without his command, his blood hot and running south. Morpheus dips his head, his breath hitting Hob’s lips, sinister and inviting.
“Do not. Find him.”
“Will you stop me, Morpheus?” Hob taunts, cocking an eyebrow. His breath has gone ragged, almost desperate. He tilts his chin in defiance. “I could put you away once and for all.”
Morpheus grins, deadly. He nudges his nose along Hob’s cheek, making him gasp and then groan, unbidden, as ice cold lips caress up his jaw and down his neck, settling at his jugular and biting gently. So gentle, a promise, a devotion.
“I would love to see you try.”
from this prompt list
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It might be me but lately all videos I’ve seen of Charles he’s basically getting mobbed. Maybe it was always like this but it seems extreme. The other day Alexandra walked away from the cafe on her own and Charles picked her up from the side of the road a bit away from the cafe because the cafe/car was once again completely surrounded by people. I hope he starts either taking a bodyguard around or just stops stopping so much for people because the constant mobbing seems terrible
No, it's definitely not always been like this. And I think that especially in Monaco there has been an increase in fan presence, with last year people absolutely crossing the line by harassing him at his home. From an interview with Monaco-matin last May:
Now granted, when he goes to lunch with Alex and Leo at what is basically a tourist attraction and sits out on the terrace for the world to see, he should expect there to be a crowd. Not condoning people crowding him the way they do, but he should know beforehand this will not be an easy in and out.
The same goes for when he is in Maranello, especially when Charles himself has said that's where he will be, you can expect there to be fans outside the factory.
In some hotels it's been getting extreme (I can't quite recall whether it was last year or the year before in Mexico or Brazil that it got quite crazy already), but I think that also is a matter of the hotels needing to manage this better. In Montreal there are a lot of fans, but they have them outside, with barriers, so the drivers can go up to them and sign in peace (or go straight in if they're tired). Versus what we just saw in Shanghai where Charles was driven to the point where he batted away someone shoving a mini helmet in his face to get signed. I've NEVER seen him do something like that before. And he should just not be put in the position where he is being mobbed like that in a hotel lobby.
So yes, while some of these situations could be resolved by hotels being better prepared, Charles could also do with a bodyguard. Or at the very least, ask the fans to leave him alone at certain times, like when he's having dinner in Monaco. I think he may be reluctant to do the latter, because he does go to a lot of promotional events as well, and then he wants to be seen/photographed for his personal brand and/or a sponsor. Plus let's face it: he also loves all the attention, knows it won't last forever, and never forgets how much it means to fans to meet him or get his autograph/selfie.
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On a previous post, you said that Arlecchino was "lowkey a pervert". Pretty please may I request headcanons on Arlecchino being a perv to her S/O?
You most certainly may !! :3c thanks for the request !!
Headcanons below the cut,
Content: Gender neutral reader (referred to as 'you'), pre-established romantic relationship, some flirtatious/downright suggestive themes. All of this is in the context of a pre-established relationship where this behaviour has been deemed okay by both parties.
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT IN ANY WAY, SHAPE OR FORM
Arlecchino is very smug, and not much phases her (except maybe some genuine soft fluffy statements and such, so keep that in mind!). Most of the time she's just deadpan, stone cold and perfectly composed.
She's such a tease, just about every time you stand up or walk by her she'll make a comment on how your ass looks nice (maybe give it a playful swat if she's feeling a little rowdy). Even if she doesn't say anything, you can just feel her staring with that devilish little smirk on her lips.
She loves to pull you into her lap with little to no warning, just wrapping her arms around you and tugging you in close as she noses into your neck.
Nothing excites her more than being able to claim 'ownership' of you in public. If given the opportunity, she'll drag you into her lap at the dinner table or coax you into sitting right up against her at any given opportunity, flaunting you in front of the other Fatui members like a designer accessory. Failing that, she always gifts you clothes and accessories that she knows you'll wear (and that she knows people will recognise that she bought them for you).
She also adores teasing you by whispering raunchy things to you and watching you squirm, or giving you sly looks as she licks her lips and smirks. She's also fond of grabbing your thighs, or taking your hand in hers and guiding it to sit on her thigh (squish squish!) and watching your embarrassed reaction
She's downright clingy at times, standing behind you and wrapping her arms around your waist (or chest) as she nuzzles her face into you.
If given the opportunity, she'll leave lipstick marks all over you for everyone to see. She has a special shade that she wears just so it'll show up obviously on your skin tone.
Despite her own clinginess and possessiveness, she'll always tease you the moment you show any signs of neediness yourself, tutting her tongue at you and putting on a voice that borders on infantilising simply because she loves to tease you.
Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagarise my writing! This includes posting translations to other sites.
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT!!
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Avatar the last airbender vs alien invasion
Are we talking peace disturbing aliens who want to take over the planet etc etc? Because in that case I think Aang, dutiful as he is, will immediately try to find a peaceful resolution with the aliens until someone, probably Toph, goes ‘does this even fall under your job description?’
‘huh? Of course, he’s the Avatar, keeper of peace and balance and all that stuff’ <- Sokka probably
‘We’re speaking balance between the human and spirit worlds. Last time I checked, aliens are neither of those’
This will provoke a sophisticated, philosophical discussion between Sokka and Toph, which will get less sophisticated and less philosophical when Zuko and Katara join in.
The gaang: *fighting over definitions and technicalities with some cursing sprinkled in*
Aang: uh, guys, I’ll go check my contract *meditates himself into a meeting with the previous avatars*
Unfortunately for Aang, his previous reincarnations also can’t seem to agree on the matter and he’s stuck listening to hours and hours of the same discourse. Fortunately for the world, while Aang is on his spiritual journey, Miyuki saves the day.
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