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#*ISE: press
infinitestagearchive · 9 months
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PUBLISHED 05.09.2023
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proceding almost four weeks of intensive internal investigation and two weeks of complete silence on all Infinite Stage Entertainment channels, as well as related idol social media accounts, the company has announced that former CEOs Cho Hosung and Han Sooyin will be stepping down. the company communicated through official news channels that they found the CEOs no longer capable of conducting ethical leadership, and the board of directors in compliance with shareholder wishes has decided to instead shift leadership to the son of former talent manager Sun Hyunsuk, Sun Jihoon. 
this shocking move is a pivotal moment for Infinite Stage Entertainment, which was originally founded by the husband-wife CEO duo. they have guided the company for nearly two decades, and although no official statement has been made yet several insiders claim that the former CEOs did not step down voluntarily.
while this undoubtedly casts a shadow on ISEs already unstable reputation, Sun Jihoon has made clear during his appointing press conference that he is confident that he, with the strength of his new team, can help ISE and its idols reach the heights they were meant for.
Sun Jihoon brings with him newly appointed COO Nam Eunwoo and creative director Jenny Lee, as well as onboarding former ISE idols Sang Minji and Connor Seong full-time as ISEs new in-house producers.
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(Nam Eunwoo, Jenny Lee, Sang Minji, Connor Seong, pictured left to right.)
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what are your thoughts?
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[ +100 / -22 ] while i do think it feels a little strange that nothing else is going to happen to the old ceos i am happy that the company and all of the idols finally get to move on and heal from all of this. just hoping they make sure to also fire all of the abusive staff and not just use the ceos as the sacrificial lamb. [ +62 / -17 ] so long as none of the idols have said anything I don't give a fuck!!!! he needs hyejins stamp of approval before I trust anything this man says [ +36 / -13 ] nothing more important than a ceo who actually cares about his idols and also looks hot while doing it [ +31 / -10 ] BITCH AND WE ALL CHEERED
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allbeendonebefore · 10 months
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colleague: are we doing US/UK/CAD spellings/formatting?
me: i like CAD (leaning towards UK) because blah blah blah but we can check the existing pdfs to see what’s been happening
colleague: i have been using the canadian press style guide but i’ll check with [boss]!
me:
me: there’s a GUIDE
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kalpasio · 1 year
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I was messing around in my art program when I started wondering what kind of kitchen kalpas would like to work in… which resulted in accidentally binge reading the domestic kalpas fic and I have gotten absolutely NOTHING done 😆 the brain rot is REAL
anyways, what do you think? I bet he’d be the type of person who would get pissed off by smart appliances
(P.S, I literally cannot read your works without covering my face with my hands and squealing— Keep it up)
-yo hey “anon”
imagining kalpas happy is one of my favorite pass times so I relate lol
I think you're right, there's no way he has smart appliances unless like we're talking golden courtyard and vill-v put them in but even then I think he would throw a hissy fit
I think I've always pictured him in the big industrial kitchens? partly because he runs a restaurant in that fic but also I think the steel is more his style. if he was in a mostly wood kitchen there is no way he doesn't set it on fire lmao
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bending-sickle · 4 months
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oh also i had to superglue my retainers again today :))) they’ve been on their last leg since 2020 but new ones are hella expensive :)))
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dearestspirit · 6 months
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a note heard in heaven - 02
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mizu x fem!reader | au based on the film the handmaiden | word count: 3,270 | warnings: mdni. this series will contain sexual and dark themes, including: abuse, sex, sexual assault/harrasment, period typical misogyny, murder, allusions to suicide, and period typical stigmas against mental health.
series masterlist | previous part | next part
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You’re taking off out of the library faster than Mizu can keep up with. Struggling to steady the parasol over your head, she dreads the moment you’ll be inside; more aptly, she’s dreading the scolding she’s bound to receive due to you getting wet. She grunts, hurrying her walking to stay next to you. Nearly leaving her behind, you finally make it to your room, doors clattering open.
“I hate those books,” you grumble, perched over the sink in your personal bathroom. “They’re so… boring, they make me sick.”
Mizu watches as you retch, color drained from your face. In a panic, she strokes your back. However, you’re quick to wave her hand away, agitated. When the heaves of your chest finally slow to a halt, you press your heated forehead against the coolness of your sink. There’s a dry irritation in your throat and your eyes are scorched with pinpricks of tears. At the back of your mind you’re acutely aware of how unsightly you must look right now; the thought only serves to embarrass you further. Knuckles white from the grip you hold on the sink, you push to straighten yourself. When you do, you’re met with Mizu’s inquisitive gaze.
“Miss…?” She questions, but it’s not interrogative.
“I’m fine. Please go.” You tear yourself away from her eyes, finding you shrink under her authority despite her rank below you.
“You should-”
“Mizu, I’ve asked you to leave. Please.”
The disgruntled exhale from her nose is audible. She doesn’t speak another word to you before closing the bathroom door behind her, leaving you alone.
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In the morning, when Mizu goes with all the other servant girls for breakfast, she finds one of them sniffling. Ise, she thinks, is the girl’s name. When Ise sees her, she skitters over, holding out Mizu’s missing shoe. You must have said something, either to Madame Kaji or the girl herself. Mizu scoffs and takes it back ungraciously. It’s no matter to her anymore, as she sits with her breakfast and listens to the chatter.
When whispers of The Count’s name pass through again, she almost snorts. He had been delayed yesterday, by something or other– she knew it probably had to do with the plan the two of them had. Something about making you wait, growing your anticipation. Some flirting tactic she had no interest in hearing about, especially not from Taigen. She’d never heard of any successful romances on his part, so she doubted he could know all that much about genuinely seducing a woman. Besides, your sheltered lifestyle meant you’d likely give your heart up in seconds once he threw some compliments and risque touches your way. Part of her was thrilled he’d finally be on his way here to get the plan truly in motion. With her bowls empty, she’s speeding to your room.
“Miss!” She calls for you.
The two of you hadn’t spoken since the incident last night. You hadn’t requested her presence at your bedside, choosing to derobe yourself.
But still, you smile when you hear her.
“Hello, Mizu.” You greet her, chin resting in your palm.
She stares at you like you’re mad. “Get up then, we’ve got to get you ready for the day. A bath, first.” Her hands take hold of your arms, guiding you into the bathroom.
With curtains drawn, the sunlight is dim, soaking the room in a gentle warmth. You watch as Mizu effortlessly prepares your tub, checking the temperature of the water. Satisfied, she gestures to you and your clothes.
“I’ll undress myself, thank you.” You mutter.
It’s been a few days of having Mizu as your new handmaiden, yet you insisted on taking care of clothing yourself. Despite it being a duty expected of her, she was nothing but respectful of your wishes. She tries to not stare as she hears the thudding of your elegant fabrics hitting the floor. Obviously, she’d have to bathe you, so she’d see everything. But it was just this once. You’d be swept up by The Count, then off to whatever madhouse would take you, and then…
“The Count is coming today.” She tells you, breaking herself out of whatever impending thought she had.
“That’s why you’ve set all this up.” You state, finally bare.
And then you’re dipping yourself into the water, carefully minding the table of soaps and oils Mizu had rolled over. Immersing yourself from the neck under, you bob back up to sit comfortably.
“Here,” Mizu mumbles, handing you a candy. “Back home, my aunts used to give candy to the babies they’d bathe.”
“So you’re treating me like a baby?” You chuckle, unwrapping the candy and savoring the sweetness of it.
“You’re like one, aren’t you? It’s as if you’re my baby.” She laughs– your heart stutters– scattering an assortment of floral petals into the bathwater.
Overkill, you’re sure, but it endears you. Your eyes follow her, her actions; she’s so dutiful in her work. A hush falls over the two of you. Mizu is concentrated, though when she sees your face fall, she stops. You’re pawing at the side of your jaw, letting out a broken groan of pain.
“Is something wrong?”
“I have a sharp tooth,” You whine. “When I eat… it cuts me.”
She hums in response, tilting your chin up with a hand. With her other, she drags a finger along the row of your teeth. When she comes across the pointed one, she hisses and steps back. At the table of objects next to her, she shuffles through, diligently searching for something.
“I remember,” You hear her call out. “One time, a relative used a thimble to grind down the sharp tooth of her son.”
Your teary eyes follow her as she hurries back to your side.
“Say ‘ah.’” She tells you, opening her mouth for you to mimic.
There’s a jolt in her at how comfortably you obey, how your lips part, how your mouth welcomes the intrusion.
Cradling your neck in her left hand, the thimble on her right thumb scrapes across your tooth. It’s a foreign feeling, one that brings along discomfort with it. You try your best to focus on the remnants of sugar on your tongue, the heat of your bathwater; but what helps the most is holding onto Mizu’s elbow. Her sleeve rolled up, you run your fingers back and forth as she continues her ministrations.
She suppresses a shiver at your touch– she can feel your knuckles tense when there’s a particularly uncomfortable drag of the thimble, she can feel the slight bite of pain as your nails sink into her skin. Even with the way her skin blooms red from your actions, you handle her with more nicety than she’d experienced before. Her eyes never stray far from your mouth, but…
But she follows the droplets that run down the bare flesh of your chest, meeting the water once more. It would be easy to let her left hand trail down, down your wet skin from pulse point to collarbone to the softness of your breasts that peek out just over the surface.
That fragile, delicate softness.
“All done.” She pulls her thumb from your mouth, mindful to not let the thimble hurt you on its exit.
You’re staring at her, eyes never leaving her own. You must’ve seen them lower and lower until no longer appropriate. She could sense the rush of heat to the tips of her ears. Depositing the thimble into the front pocket of her apron, she sits with her back to the tub.
“Go ahead and finish washing.” Her voice is husky, mouth dry.
She tries to not think about quenching her thirst with the water clinging to your body.
Palpable silence stays in the room until you’re clothed once more.
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Mizu stands in the far corner, squinting as Taigen– playing as The Count, of course– greets you. The two of you had spent what felt like an agonizing amount of time going over your hair, makeup, and dress.
“Ah, you didn’t have to get all done up to see me.” He grins, laying the sleaze on thick.
A shy expression befalls you; the hint of a flirtatious smile.
“Your painting lessons, I promise they’ll be exhilarating for you,” Taigen winks, though he catches sight of Mizu in the mirror behind you. Turning, he opens his arms wide in a friendly gesture. “This must be your handmaiden! The one I so honorably recommended.”
Mizu wonders how the fuck he can go on and on without giving anyone else a chance to speak. Or have you been stunned into silence? Did you really think of him that highly already? “Yes, at your service.” She takes a shallow bow.
“Are you carrying out your duties well?” Taigen asks, stepping over to her. “It’ll make me look bad if you aren’t.”
“You picked perfectly for me.” You chime in behind him.
“So I did a good job,” That smarmy upturn of his lips is back again as he flicks a coin towards Mizu. “Take this, and keep taking good care of our Lady.”
She can barely contain her complaint, holding back a disgusted ‘ugh’ as he walks out of the room. You’re still over in your corner, looking demure. If Taigen were still in the room, he’d slap Mizu on the head and tell her to strike. So, she does.
“The Count sure is nice, isn’t he?” She plays up an exaggerated smile, fussing at your clothes to busy her hands.
You give a shrug in return, already heading back to your room before she can analyze your reaction and pinpoint your exact feelings for The Count.
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Mizu’s breath runs ragged as she hurries to the guest room Taigen resides in. One of the other servant girls had fetched for her, claiming he needed Mizu for an errand. She knew that meant he had something important to tell her, though part of her felt remorse at having to leave your side. A loneliness swam in your eyes, that pout of yours betraying your usually stoic, posh demeanor. Your lips haunt her mind as she travels; the docile way they had parted upon request, or was it moreso a command? Did you care to discern the difference? Though, she supposes, someone like you deserves…
Taigen’s door slides open with an urgency that knocks the wind out of her. It nearly bounces back closed, before his hand stops it. Grabbing at Mizu’s sleeve, he tugs her into the room and shuts the door eagerly. She can’t even focus in time for Taigen to start hushedly whooping, arms waving in the air.
“Easy, idiot,” Mizu puffs, flipping that coin he’d given her back in his direction. “Did you really think you could fool me with that shit fake?”
To you, she’s been your handmaiden that does her duties to whatever standard you deem suitable to hold her to. If you said jump, she’d say how high. But Taigen knows better. He knows when someone tells her to jump, she asks how much.
And he knew that very well when he recruited her.
In that last month before Mizu came to be by your side, she was approached by the son of a local farmer. Taigen. The two lived in a poor, weary village. Little luxuries were afforded to them. It only made sense that in an unseen corner, thievery would thrive here. In that small hut on the outskirts of her home, Mizu would learn everything– pick-pocketing, forgery– and would grow to excel at it.
It’s why, when Taigen shows up in a suit far outside his price range, he’s quick to pick her out of the rest. He’s boasting of how grand a plan this is. How you have millions, and that your current fiance was looking for the same thing he was: getting their hands on that fortune. Taigen’s the one to claim he can snatch you right under that old man’s nose. Mizu almost retorts with a ‘what do you know about love?’ but she holds her tongue.
“After the job is done, you can get all of the mistress’ dresses and jewelry. Everyone here will get a share of fifty thousand.” There’s gasps as he finishes speaking. To them, fifty thousand is more money than they’d all seen in their lifetime, combined.
Mizu nods with a hand on her chin, tapping her foot. “On top of the fifty, I want my own hundred thousand. That’s my price.”
Taigen agrees effortlessly. He insists that Mizu go through the next few days ‘training’ with him. She had never been a maid of any sort before, born into criminality, so she needed at least some preparation. Otherwise this plan would be doomed from the start. For starters, he spends way too long teaching her how to make herself blush. Calling you an ‘uppity bitch’ who would succumb to the inferiority complex of a poor handmaiden. He makes sure she knows to not let you think; no questions, take care of everything in a matter-of-fact way. Honestly, Mizu cares little for whatever Taigen lectures her on. He’s just like her– a poor criminal looking for a way out. She knows she’s intelligent, and she knows how to use people to her advantage. Taigen, on the other hand, is rarely ever self-aware of the drivel that comes out of his mouth.
At some point, the time passes and Mizu’s faced with her last night in the village. She sits on her knees behind the old woman who’s been taking care of her her whole life. Mizu knows it's thanks to her that she's still here. Not quite a mother, but close enough, after losing her own. Something somber settles in the room, Mizu exhaling a sigh.
“When my mother was hanged,” She starts, combing through the elder’s hair. “Did she cry?”
“Mizu,” Her voice has become frail in the past years, age beginning to get to her. “After your mother had you, she told how she was the luckiest woman. She had no reason to cry, not even when faced with her death. You take after her so much… what a thief you’ll be, one day.”
Taigen snaps a few times, taking Mizu out of her memory. “Look, when I give the signal… ‘fully ripe’, make sure that she and I are alone.”
Mizu raises an eyebrow. “She’s very sheltered, Taigen,” she strolls over to the large bed he’s been provided, flopping backwards onto it. “You could touch her intimately and she still won’t know what you want.”
“Well, do your part then. Everything is because of me.” Taigen states. “Like… her nails growing longer because I’m here. Things like that, she won’t know any better.”
Mizu’s mind drifts. Hand stuck down the front pocket of her apron, she finds herself fiddling with the thimble she left there. You and Taigen, alone… He said he wanted to devour you. She remembers now. Someone like you, she remembers, deserves the touch of someone tender. The Count has teeth, claws given to him as the birthright of being a man in this world. A dark cloud simmered in her at his signal. ‘Fully ripe,’ as if you’re something to be eaten, the only fragment left being an empty pit. No, she had seen you– had seen the flush of your skin, the supple ways your body curved. You were meant for more. You were meant to be given to, not taken from.
But she couldn’t. She had to feed you to an insatiable man. From her palm to the white blades of his teeth, she’d comply. No victimless crimes truly exist, she reasoned. If she had to take advantage of yet another person to get to her goal, what did it matter? She repeats it to herself a few times, a mantra to clear her mind: It has to be done.
“Give her these,” Taigen hands a box to Mizu. “From me, of course.”
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Gracefully, you pull the golden rope away from the box, admiring the floral pattern atop it. When you open it, revealing the earrings inside, your face lights up.
Taking one of them, you hold it up to your ear and look in the mirror. “Mizu, these sapphires are so blue!”
Mizu nods, watching your reflection. ‘They suit you’ almost tumbles off her lips. It’ll do her good to remember those will be hers as soon as Taigen gets rid of you.
“They remind me of your eyes, don’t they?” You grin. “Just as pretty, too.”
“Actually, it’s blue spinel.” Mizu mutters, ignoring your previous comment.
“What?” You’re frowning.
“But that’s just as expensive as sapphires.” She’s sputtering and correcting herself, catching her slip up.
“How do you know that?” You’re questioning her, eyes squinted.
“My old mistress taught me. That’s all.” Mizu gulps, rarely ever nervous, but she can’t mess up this far into the scheme.
You nod, unrolling the piece of paper The Count had included in his gift. Mizu exhales, glad you’ve moved your mind onto something else. She lets her eyes scan you as you read, thinking back to what you said. They remind me of your eyes. Just as pretty, too. It’s not hard for her to remember all the times she’d been looked at in fear, cursed at, beaten. All the children of the village who had thrown rocks at her, chased after her. Why were you so different? What gave you the right? The boiling heat of anger starts to crawl under her skin. She has no reason to trust you; at the end of the day, once you learn you’ve been betrayed, you’d take those comments back in an instant. You’d call her ugly. A demon. She knows this. She’ll lock the sound of your voice in the far reaches of her mind and she’ll never think of you again, only ever your money. It has to be done.
So why can’t she stop looking at you? Has she ever seen anything so lovely?
There’s a dinner tonight. You, your ‘husband’, and The Count.
Mizu is sure to pull out one of your fanciest dresses for the night, telling you The Count will love it. You look shy again, putting your cheek in your palm as you coyly smile. A hint of disgust brews in her at your awe of him. But when she follows behind you, down the steps to the dining room, she can’t help but let her eyes roll over your figure. Your hair is up. Would you squirm if she pressed her lips there, on your neck? Even down to where your dress dips, exposing your shoulder blades? Between them, as she pushed your sleeves past your arms? And what if The Count did the same? He’s trashy, unable to hold something so vulnerable in his hands with any grace. It wouldn’t happen. At least, not while Mizu was in the room. If she left you alone with him… would you?
She cares so much because you’re a poor, poor girl, is what she decides. Really, she just feels bad at how badly your heart is going to break when you realize The Count doesn’t love you in return. Anything else is simple curiosity– a destitute criminal pondering on the lifestyle of someone so privileged.
A chair clashes to the floor as soon as Mizu holds the door open for you. Taigen’s standing up, mouth open like a fish out of water.
“You’re incredible!” He yells, gaping shamelessly. “Breathtakingly beautiful.”
Mizu’s fist clenches, nearly drawing blood with her nails.
He’s so full of shit.
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a/n: so on the last part i had some people interested in a taglist!! personally, i would feel uncomfortable doing that as there will be eventual nsfw content in this. maybe i'll change my mind, but for now i rather not to avoid minors/ageless blogs being tagged. either way i hope you're all enjoying the read!! i'll try to keep getting chapters consistently out if i can <3
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Shadows Entwined: part 9
BatmanVsTmnt!Leonardo x sidekick!reader
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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 / Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Bonus (18+)
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A/N: I just passed my exam and finished yet another part of Shadows Entwined!🤩💙 It’s not super long this time. Due to my exam I decided to cut it a little short this time around, but I hope it’s still enjoyable😘💙
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Warnings: None💙
The reader and the turtles are 19.
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That day, all up on till the sun disappeared below the horizon, was relatively uneventful. While the sun stood in the sky, the turtles slept away in their rooms, while you, Damian and Barbara stayed in the Batcave with Alfred, keeping an eye on Bruce, and working away, trying to figure out where Ra’s al Ghul and Shredder was hiding out, and the much more pressing question; what were they working on? Why were the two villains working together?
You, Barbara and Damian had all decided to stay in costume, just in case any of the four terrapins would wake up. But as you pulled on your mask in your room, you couldn’t help but feel a rush in your stomach at the thought of the night before. What Leo had said about your face made you smile like crazy, and the thought of how close you had been to… how close you had been to kiss Leo made you gitty. Of course you couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if you had kissed, finding yourself daydreaming on your way down to the Batcave with a small skip in your step, thinking of how Leo’s lips would have felt against yours.
But then the sobering reality hit you as soon as you entered the Batcave, the sight of your still unconscious father reminding you of all the other things that happened the night before. The towering gothic halls of Arkham. How terrified you had been while Leo had been under the influence of the Crane Gass, unable to do anything as he seemed terrified that you wouldn’t look him in the eyes, even though you had never said such a thing. And how your father, the dark knight, was turned into a mutant bat before your very eyes. Suddenly your little daydream about the almost kiss with Leo wasn’t the only thing on your mind.
It was around dinner time that the turtles woke up. At that point the dark had already fallen over Gotham, the sun being hidden behind a thick layer of dark clouds, the city rarely having more than a few hours of life during the day.
Sitting down next to Leo as you ate, your heart couldn’t help but flutter at the small smile he shot at you, his blue eyes twinkling a little as they searched for yours. It was clear that he also remembered the night before, both the good and the bad parts, seeming a little unsure if he was still in your good grace. But the smile you sent back at him, made him relax with a silent sigh, finally letting him eat without his heart jumping like mad.
After dinner, all of you went straight back to work, looking through any possible leads on where Ra’s and Shredder could be, while Alfred continued his care of Bruce, in the company of a worrisome Robin and a curious yet slightly scared Mikey. And then, lo and behold, Batgirl struck gold, showing you all her findings on the big screen of the computer.
“The Wayne Enterprises’ container ship that was moving the Cloud Seeder to Bludhaven, was hijacked last night”, Batgirl explained, reading up from her findings. “The thieves then smuggled the Cloud Seeder back into Gotham port”.
Raph grumbled with his arms crossed and his teeth clenched. “While we were dealing with those freaks in Arkham”. He was right. Arkham had been nothing but a distraction.
Donatello, who was seated in the chair right in front of the big computer, looked at the screen in thought, a finger tapping on his chin, before he seemed to have a realization, tapping away on the keys.
“With the machinery the Foot has stolen, I think they’re building something that’ll mix the ooze with Joker’s formula, and launch the Joker-ised ooze into the clouds above the city”, he said, pulling up pictures of the machinery for you all to see.
“And when it rains down, it’ll turn everyone in Gotham into a monster mutant like Batman”, Leo said, dreading in his voice. Having fought against mutant Batman was one thing, but a whole city? And not just any city, but your city. Yet another reason for Leo to hate everything the Foot and Shredder stood for.
“Dudes!”, Mikey yelled in eagerness from Batman’s table, causing all of you to turn, fearing the worst. Even Robin jumped from his chair, seemingly ready to fight whatever threat Mikey had seen. But there was no threat. Just Mikey screaming beside Bruce Wayne. “I’m freaking out here!”, he said, placing both hands on his head, as if he was trying to keep his mind from exploding. “Did everyone else know that Batman is Bruce Wayne?!”
The silence that followed, only broken by the smack of Raph’s face palm, spoke for the situation itself. You might not have been the biggest fan of Raph’s way of doing things, but you could not deny how much you related to that smack against his forehead.
“I mean, you knew the Batcave was under Wayne Manor”, Donnie said with a raised brow bone. He knew that his little brother wasn’t the sharpest knife in the draw, but he had never thought that such a revelation would take so long for Mikey to realize.
“I’m just saying it’s a lot to take in”, Mikey said, stretching his face in thought, before he rested his elbows against Bruce, causing Alfred to see red in the corner of his eyes. “Rich and cool! Like leave something for the rest of us guy!” Alfred let out a loud sigh, before he started moving Mikey away from Bruce, causing the orange clad turtle to yell out in protest at the butler. “I’m going, I’m going, okay!”
You looked at Leo with a questionable look, and all he could do was sigh with a small nod. Yes, Mikey was always like that.
“Do we have any idea where Shredder and Ra’s are building this machine?”, you asked, turning back towards Batgirl and Donnie, feeling Leo’s eyes on you, along with the small tug at the corner of his mouth. Apparently you were asking the right questions. And much to your luck, that question sparked a thought in Batgirl’s head.
“I don’t know exactly how Joker makes his venom, but I do know where the components would be”, Batgirl said, leaning over Donnie in order to press on the computer keys. His small flustered expression made you choke down a chuckle. Oh, how you were going to press Batgirl with your knowledge. Even Leo seemed to notice, enhancing small glances with you. Both of you knew something, that much was obvious. Leo poked at Donnie with a small finger, causing the purple clad turtle to scowl at him. “Ace Chemicals”, Batgirl continued, pulling up a picture of the facility. “It’s where the Joker was created, when he fell into a vat of, you know, chemicals. So if they need venom, they’ll be there”.
“But it’s walled off”, Leo pointed out, noting the high walls and barbed wire. “Easy to defend”.
“So what?”, Raph said, sounding frustrated. “If they’re dugg in and ready for a fight, then we bring them a freaking fight”, he continued, slamming his fists together with a dark smile.
“We aren’t doing anything”, a deep voice sounded behind you. You turned in joy, seeing Alfred helping your father up to stand, Robin running to his side in order to help.
“Master Bruce you’re not well”, Alfred said in concern, wishing Bruce would sit down once again.
“I’m as well as I need to be”, Bruce grumbled, taking the drop out of his arm, his gaze turning to the turtles. He stared at them for a moment, before walking to his neatly folded costume on a nearby table. “Batgirl and Robin are coming with me to Ace. (H/N) stays in the manor. The turtles are going home”.
“What?”, Mikey exclaimed in sadness and shock as Bruce pulled on his costume over his head. “C’mon, we know your secret identity now! Our team up have been surmounted!”
“I gave you a change”, Bruce said in a stern voice, turning directly towards the terrapin brothers. “You four are impulsive, and you don’t follow orders”. His eyes narrowing at them. “I want you out of Gotham!”
“Uh, father”, Robin said, his small frame stepping between them. “Look, it pains me to say this, but the turtles saved you in Arkham. They are valiant allies! Even the dumb one! Michelangelo”.
“Hey!”, Mikey exclaimed in a displeased expression. “Not cool!”
“If it wasn’t for them, Joker would have never gotten close enough to inject me in the first place”, Bruce said in a scowl as he closed the clasp on his cape, before pulling the mask up over his head, once again becoming the dark knight of Gotham City, before turning his back to them. “This is not up for discussion”.
Leo felt the burning stair from Batman, telling him to do exactly as he had been told too. To leave Gotham. But Leo’s heart stung at the thought, because leaving Gotham meant not just leaving the city, but leaving you. Leo once again thought back to the visions he had seen under the influence of the Crane Gass. How he had scared you. How you had feared him. He still did not know if these visions had been real, but never did he wish for those visions to be real. He hoped that none of it had been true and just his mind playing tricks on him. But in reality, Leo did not know. He remembered how scared that you had been when you entered Arkham, and how fearful you had been when you walked the halls, and the more Leo thought about it, the more it unsettles him. Maybe Batman was right. Maybe it was best if you stayed in the Wayne Manor where you could be safe while Batman, Robin and Batgirl headed out. And maybe, just maybe it was best if Leo and his brothers left. Leo had scared you once and he did not wish to do it again, even if it was going to hurt him.
“Maybe he’s right”, Leo mumbled, looking down at his feet, not wanting to meet your confused eyes. He could almost hear your heart crack just a little inside your chest, not wanting to believe what you were hearing as he turned towards his brothers. “Following Batman’s lead took us to Arkham and distracted us from Shredder”, he said, not noticing the deepening frown on Raph’s face. We’d be better off on your own”.
“No! No! He ain’t right!”, Raph yelled, pushing back his brothers so he could storm forward. He pushed the leader in blue so hard that he tumbled, only just catching himself before he fell onto you, your eyes meeting once again, sending shock waves through the two of you. Leo felt his mouth dry out as he stared into your eyes, knowing full well that they would be the hardest thing for him to leave behind. The hurt in your eyes and the way his heart was aching, making him freeze in place, unsure of what to do or say. Leo did not want to go. He did not want to leave you. Could he just stand there and look at you forever he would, but sadly, your father did want it to be like that.
“Look, Batman”, Raph said, making his way to your father, who was busy assembling his beloved utility belt. “I get it! The whole brooding loner thing, sitting on top of roof tops, mumbling about how you’re the only one that can stand up to evil in your own city. That’s my whole deal! I love that stuff! And I totally agree that my brothers are annoying, unbearably so sometimes”.
“Uhm”, Leo said, finally realizing that Raph had been talking the whole time the two of you had been locked in each other’s eyes. “Where are you going with this?”
“Teh!”, Raph said annoyed, turning back to Batman. “That’s why. When things get though, I don’t even bother with them. I go off on my own and do things my way!”
“He does do that”, Donnie said, Mikey agreeing with a sounding nod.
“Still doesn’t explain where he’s going”, you whispered, making Leo hum in agreement.
“Yeah, but here’s the thing”, Raph continued. “Every single time, I just get into more trouble and my brothers have to bail me out”.
"It's true!”, Mikey chimed in. “Every time”.
“Sure we make mistakes. Sure we make the wrong moves”, Raph went on, ignoring his little brother. “But we can’t get better-”. Raph grabbed onto Batman’s arm in order to turn him around to face him, making you, Batgirl, Robin and Alfred gasp in surprise. No one just grabbed onto Batman nor Bruce Wayne like that. That was just not how it worked. “-If you don’t trust us”. The turtles, seeming to understand the severity of Raph’s actions, watched with wide eyes. Donnie even covered his mouth, Leo’s eyes going wide and Mikey gasping out loud. Batman said nothing but just narrowed his eyes at the square jawed mutant, almost daring him to continue. “We’re a family, and learning from your mistakes together, is how a family works”.
“This is not a family”, Batman rumbled, bumping his shoulder against Raph’s as he walked past him. “It’s a team”.
“Ain’t that the same thing?”
That comment made Batman halt in his actions. It was as if those words had touched a nerve deep within him. Batman said nothing but stared forward, his thoughts running wild in his head. Raph’s words echoing in his head as he looked to Alfred, Robin, you and Batgirl and then to the turtles, only to notice how close all of you were standing. And how you and Leo seemed to seek each other out in the small crowd. Just like he had noticed the two of you do in Arkham. And on the roof. Even during your first meeting and fight together.
“You’re right”, he finally said, making you all stare at him in disbelief. You felt your palm begin to sweat as Batman made his way towards Leo, determination in his eyes. “Let’s stop Ra’s and Shredder”, he said, before extending a hand to the leader of the turtles. “Together”.
Leo looked at Batman’s hand, extending his own hand in order to shake it, when suddenly…
“Awesome! Dips on the Batmobile!”, Mikey yelled, jumping over the head of a growling Raph, skipping right by you in a rush and right through Leo and Batman’s handshake.
“Uh, we have our own ride”, Leo said after Mikey, not sure if his forgetful lille brother actually was able to remember it.
“You do?”, Batgirl asked Donnie in confusion, causing Donnie to beam with innocent pride, thinking of the van he had tuned up.
“Yeah, we didn’t walk here from New York”, Donnie smiled, secretly hoping that Batgirl would ask about the van.
“Don’t care!”, Mikey yelled, already inside Batman’s car, fastening his seatbelt. “Called the Batmobile!”
Batman looked from Mikey to Leo, his eyes lingering at him for a moment before giving him a small nod. It was time to find Shredder and Ra’s.
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crazyfox-archives · 7 months
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The sacred Meoto Iwa (夫婦岩) or Husband & Wife Rocks off the coast of Ise, Mie Prefecture
Photo by the Asahi Shimbun
Image from "Shintō: The Sacred Art of Ancient Japan" edited by Victor Harris, published by the British Museum Press. 2001, page 16
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coffeecat1983 · 3 days
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Luigi's Mansion 3 one shot: "Comfort."
Gooigi stirred in his tank. Something felt off as Luigi entered the elevator. The young human put the button to the tenth floor into place but instead of his usual celebration dance, he was quiet, his shoulders slumped to the point it felt like the Poltergust was going to slide off of his back. A click, a jostling shake, and a hum as the button was pressed and the elevator began to move. Thinking all was fine, Gooigi waited for the ding of the doors. It didn't come. The goo creature was startled as the elevator screeched to a halt. Sliding out of his tank he found Luigi trembling, his palm slammed onto the emergency 'stop' button. The Poltergust fell off his shoulders and crashed to the floor, his thin frame collapsing beside it with a quiet sob. "Mrr?" Gooigi burbled inquisitively. Luigi drew his legs to his chest, pushing down his hat and hiding his face in his other arm. "I c-can't do this." he whimpered. "I can't… I need Ma-Mario." a fresh sob as he choked out his brother's name. With a soft rumble that made his form tremor, Gooigi kneeled next to him. He could feel the distress flowing through the other, the sensations of fear and loneliness rippling deep within his own consciousness. An irritating click and buzz and E. Gadd's voice crackled out. "Luigi? No time to be a cry bab-" he was cut off as with a frustrated grumble, Gooigi reached over and muted the communicator. His human counterpart didn't move, apparently unaware of what had just happened. Drawing on what few memories he shared, Googi tried to recall what Luigi remembered Mario doing to calm him when he was upset. The faint image of the red-clad plumber reaching out, a warm hand on his shoulder with words of comfort. Gooigi looked at his own hand. He wasn't warm, nor could he really talk, but he had to at least try. Luigi tensed at the touch, looking up as the cool hand came to rest on his green shirt sleeve. Gooigi was watching him, head tilted. Burbling softly, the other hand reached out and fingers traced across his cheek as they absorbed the tears. A sound reached Luigi and he realized Gooigi was purring quietly. Sniffling, Luigi wiped away his other tears and hiccuped softly. "S-Sorry, just really miss my bro." Gathering himself, Gooigi focused hard and to the surprise of both, he spoke. "It… will… b-be…okie-dokie!" he managed in a bubbling, garbled voice. Another memory floated up and leaning forward, he pressed his forehead to Luigi's. "I… prom-ise."
End. By "CC"
Inspired by this piece by @sarahssideblog. Hope you enjoy!
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randomwords247 · 10 months
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Today on things I have realised have been american-ised in Hilda that I didn't notice before: The walk signal.
Idk if I would've fully realised before going to the states on holiday but america does these bad boys way differently
Firstly, I've never heard anyone call them a walk signal. Pedestrian crossing or zebra crossing, or just "Green man".
Secondly: The signal's are different
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Usually its a guy standing or even a bike coloured red, and when you can go? It's a green man walking - Hence, green man. Idk how common the bike is off the top of my head but its not always there
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This is typically what they look like. The pole with the button you press has the green man, and sometimes there's also a traffic light (upper photo) with the green/red man.
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Sometimes they look like this, but typically it looks like the photos above
It's not important or anything, but I think it's interesting how many little things are different, like them calling jumpers "sweaters" or the side Johanna drives being swapped. Small changes from the original british comic that add up to be a little odd to see at first, but are pretty darn nifty to notice and talk about. I don't know if I would've fully clocked it as american/canadian before I went there and experienced the different signals in person
I just think its Neat
(also these photos are taken from google images. Before anyone thinks they can dox me. Its very dark outside I couldn't take a photo of these if I tried)
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jedi-lothwolf · 4 months
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Febuwhump Day 3: "Bite Down on This"
Fandom: Star Wars The Bad Batch
Summary: Omega is injured and imperials are around. Hunter is trying to help her with the pain as well as keep her quiet.
  Hunter had always been scared of Omega getting hurt. As he got to know her, he knew that he could only handle it so well. She was his little sister but he felt so much like her father. He never even knew he could feel like a father.
    But now he was faced with that. He hadn't been keen on being her on the mission. Phee had said she would keep an eye on her but the girl snuck aboard.  Now she was in front of Hunter, bleeding.
    The clone looked around. Omega was sobbing. Hunter recounted everything that had brought them to this moment, trying to make sense of any of it. A mission for Cid. One bounty hunter with a determination to 'win' and one explosion later his little girl was hurt.
    Now he looked back at her. "Hunter, imperials are heading to the site of the explosion. Be careful." Tech warned. He didn't answer him. Instead he looked around and tried to find an answer.
    Taking off a piece of his armor, he tore a part of his undershirt off. He balled it up and held it to Omega's mouth. "bite down on this."
    Fear rushed over Omega. "Hunter" she said. Her continued to cry as she took the cloth in her mouth.
    Hunter held her wound carefully. The glass was still in her side. He took torn pieces of his clothes and placed them by the glass. He pressed on her side and she yelled. "I know. I'm sorry." He's voice shook.
     The black fabric hid the blood that had started to poll in Omega's mouth. All Hunter could hear was her cries. He tried to listen for the imperials but his mind betrayed him.
    Omega started to cough. She squeezed Hunter's hand as she tried to stay quiet. The man brought his comm up to his face and spoke softly. "Omega's down" he started, "sending you our location." Then he turned off his comm.
    Now Hunter could hear the radios of the enemy. He looked at Omega and realized that the cloth she had been biting down on was filled with blood. He panicked and took it out of her mouth. Her cries became less muffled.
    The man placed a hand over her mouth for a moment. "I know. I'm sorry. You'll be okay." She looked confused.
    Hunter felt like he was going to cry. He didn't want to scare her. If he cried now, she would worry and that was the last thing he needed.
    "You'll be okay." Hunter tried to remain calm. He felt her blood on his hand and realized they didn't have time. Now he didn't care who found them. The empire wanted Omega and alive so if they found them, they would at least take care of her.
    Even if that meant they killed him. She needed help. The voices grew closer. "Over here!" One called.
    Hunter sighed. He had faced things like this before. He grabbed his gun and got ready to fire. As troopers turned the corner they were gunned down by Echo and Tech. Wrecker followed ise behind.
    "We're here." Echo said. Wrecker took one look at Omega and teared up. He placed a hand on Echo's shoulder to steady himself. Tech assessed the girls injuries and Echo took Hunter back.
    "Echo" Hunter spoke. Echo just took him into his arms.
    "She'll be okay."
    Tech picked Omega up and started to walk. "We need to get back to the Marauder."
    The family made their way to the ship and Tech started to tend to his sisters wounds. Later in the evening he would emerge from his room. "She'll be fine."
    "See. I told you."
    Hunter sighed. "Thank you, Tech." He walked back to be with her and sat beside her. He looked at her and rested his arms on his knees. At least she was alright.
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infinitestagearchive · 11 months
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PUBLISHED OCT.15.2020
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a twitter user by the name of @BBYNAMSEO recently posted a series of tweets alleging abuse and neglect of the idols under Infinite Stage Entertainment. the user posted photo and video evidence of idols being malnourished, exhausted, and covered in dark bruises. the user also included videos of SUGARs Hyejin almost passing out on stage, and S-DIVISIONs Atlas having what appears to be a mental breakdown on stage. these tweets are not the first time that netizens have called out concerning behavior from ISEs idols, but the vitality of these tweets caused ISE to come under international scrutiny, with even non-fans calling for an internal investigation into the treatment of the employees.
in the wake of these alarming allegations, ISE CEO Cho Hosung issued a video statement on the company site as well as their official social media accounts, in which he vehemently denies any irresponsible or negligent behavior from ISE employees. he insists that ISE has always prioritized the health and happiness of their idols, and that the success of their idols is built on a foundation of support and care between them and the company. he insisted that ISE is a family company at heart, and he cares for all of the idols in his company like a parent would.
however, Hosung seemingly avoided any specific allegations that the original twitter thread pointed out, including his own comments seemingly sexualizing ISE idol Hyejin. he also did not comment on the statements from alleged ex-employees.
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what are your thoughts?
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[ +55 / -13 ] they simply cannot be serious with this ‘statement’ like come on now, how are you going to release a cute little two minute video where you say basically nothing and go ‘its all lies lol we love our idols <3’ when there is actual PROOF of all of this [ +43 / -14 ] the way that han sooyin didn’t even show her face. she’s really letting her fail ass husband take the fall for all of this lmaooo [ +35 / -7 ] hey ppl who called ari a bitch for months for not being nice to hosung, how do yall feel now?! [ +26 / -4 ] are we surprised? like are we truly surprised?? this company has like a year left at best before it all comes crashing down like. at this point one of their idols is going to die on stage or some shit [ +26 / -8 ] Hyejin baby I promise we’re going to get u out of there!!!! [ +25 / -9 ] not the choho incest kink reveal…
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Another headcanon, hand in hand with the first.. the curse of a hypnotic ability.
Vox uses his his hypnotic gaze with varying degrees of subtlety, from a quiet suggestion during a show or press conference, to a full on bludgeon of direct command if needed to push a product or idea.
Alastor, the radio demon, came into possession of a hypnotic voice upon arriving in hell. At first it was something that simply happened, something barely controlled and slipping into each conversation no matter how he tried to override it. It was not like the static, everpresent, but it definitely could be felt... a sinuous tasteless crackle of Suggestion, of Want, and on the rare occasion he needed it in an emergency... of Desperation.
It left an itchy uncertainty behind his eyelids, tingling through his skin, to never be truly sure that the connections he made in the early days were genuine. Except Vox of course, when they had been friends each had been delighted to find their abilities nullified by the other... a camaraderie that lasted until that damnable moth arrived with his slavvering lustpickled brain.
Still, until he had the power leashed and tightly controlled to use as a weapon If needed, and now whenever it chose to appear... Alastor had been careful in the application. Too strong and even the most generic command could bind too deeply into the subject's mind.
He does prefer to ise his charm, his personable polite mannerisms and of course the mindfully masterful excessive violence of his trade to enact his power struggles qith overlords and sinners alike.
The weight of the voice was helpful in tearing down the cruel, the sinners who targeted the weak, but in the end he preferred to not use it where and when possible.
It caused extreme mistrust when people learned of it. He hid it for a reason. But perhaps one day when called out for.mesmerising the populace.into loving him, Vox blows a fuse and refutes that it was cute of the radio demo , the demon with the hypnotic voice, to criticise Vox for simply being blatant about his use of a wellknown ability.
Taunting that perhaps the other hid it to avoid being accused of luring his so called friends in, because it was the only way an old timey prick could get people on his side with so little to offer.
And, as he had always feared, it changed things.
Not with Niffty of course, she was a delightful ball of hellfire who didn't care about his peculiarities much as he did the same courtesy for her, but knew they had an unspoken bond. Besides, if Alastor had helped her drift off to sleep after nightmares with his Special Story Voice on her bad nights in hell... well, that was okay with her.
Husker was especially vocal about it, again claiming that Alastor could not be trusted to any and all who would listen to his ramblings. It was getting grating, but he had thus far resisted the urge to yank the proverbial chain about it... even if his patience was razorwire thin. The crux of the gambler's ire was the insistence that Alastor must have cheated in the card game for Husk's soul... for, from his perspective, there was simply no other way the Radio Demon could have beaten a consummate gamer such as he.
When Alastor tries to counter that perhaps he won because Husker was a degenerate gambler who took insane risks beyond what was good for him, and was consistently self-marinated in enough alcohol to flood the desert, he was dismissed sharply with a shout to not try talking his way outta it. And, as silly as it was... that was a sharp little blow to his pride.
Angel Dust was possibly the most surprisingly hostile at first, the spider demanding to know what kind of deal he needed to make with Alastor (who he'd kinda thought was a friend at this point, but let's be fair its not like the people he cares for haven't fucked him over ten ways to sunday before, so maybe he was wrong) would need for Alastor to use his voice to convince Val to break the pornstars contract. If he could do it without killing the guy, why did he just let Angel suffer? Was this funny to him? Did he not understand what the moth did to Angel, and had others do to him, every single fucking day? His tone distraught and eyes full of angry tears.
Alastor had attempted to explain that there was a reason he couldn't. That the vile picture box, Vox had managed to use his own visual ability on the other two Vees already, specifically to ensure his ability would never take hold on them. A suggestion to ward off suggestion if you will.
That seemed to mollify the other momentarily. 'Wait, does that mean ya tried already?' Angel had asked, and Alastor turned his head away, frowning at the memories. There had been a rather sharp shock of psychic feedback when he'd tried, a clear little booby trap left by Vox. He nods, his fingers twitching at the recollection of a burning that ran through his body like electricity, tugging at his nerves cruelly and unable to be settled, only endured.
And then the other asks, what they always ask, given that they were in hell... and everyone has a past. Angel asks if Alastor can help him bury the memories deeper, the bad days, so that he can sleep at night... or, at least, trick his mind into floating away when things got too much?
Alastor tactfully turns this down, the words needed to explain how deeply it would bury the personality before him to hide that pain and trauma, too complex on his tongue. And he gets a bottle hurled at his head instead... his shadow tendrils reach for it, but pause, and the whole room stills as the glass shatters against his ever-present smile.
He does not say he is sorry, but the shocked look on Angel's face, the choked cry of Charlie, and the blood now dripping down his chin... well, he hoped they understood. "If that is all..." he had said, casually, and slipped into shadow.
Vaggie had always been wary of him, but now is ever-present and within earshot of the Overlord when he even suggests he might be about to speak with Charlie alone. Not that he would ever need to charm her... perhaps help soothe her, like he did Niffty when she became manically unable to sleep for the river of thoughts running through her mind.
The Ex-orcist is always a solid prescence around him, he sees the eye on him. The implied threat in her stance whenever they share a room, the mild distrust in her expression before she bites into a meal he has prepared, or the sharp way her eyes re-read documents before Charlie signs them. She never voices her threat, her distrust... but it is a tangible thing.
Alsastor had always wondered if his voice would have even worked on the ex-angel, not to mention... if it could work on the Princess of Hell. Hellborn and Angels, they were something... different. The best he'd managed was to turn the head of a rather persistent Goetia suitor, once in a bit of a panic, with his voice... and it'd been a bit of a struggle. It would be unlikely to twist a Sin, much less Lucifer...
Charlie didn't treat him any different, at first. Unfortunately, her eventual response was almost violently optimistic... and felt just as devastating, when she stutteringly tried to bring Alastor's newly outed ability into her plans for rehabilitation. Haltingly asking if, maybe, perhaps, could Alastor um... could he consider using his ability to help ease some of the newer guests through their first few weeks? Like, with the withdrawals and the flashbacks, the nightmares? Help shore up their resolve? With their permission of course!
And why had that hurt so sharply? It was simply something for him to say yes or no to, a proposal... he normally loved such things. The twisting of words into a chain between two sinners... but this felt, hmm, distasteful was the word that came to mind. As if he was only useful now that someone needed his ability; a little issue he'd tried to quash decades ago before starting his tirade against the other Overlords to become one. Ah, such a circuitous path he trod.
Seeing the burning plea in her eyes, he felt his insides twisting, wondering how to diffuse this without losing his place in the hotel or its hierarchy. Simply settling for a 'I will consider your proposal...' as he strode away, trying desperately to ignore how his long-dead heart writhed in his chest and a sickened sensation spread coldly through his veins.
Lucifer though, of all the unexpected people to commisserate, it just had to be that overpuffed little cockrel. At first, the King of Hell had been insufferably infuriating, joking loudly that clearly Alastor's appeal was overblown and his only en-deer-ing factor was his ability to trick people into doing his bidding. It was grating.
However, over the coming days, even the insularly-minded King couldn't help but notice the increased censorship and scrutiny the demon bastard was under. Had started to (ugh) empathise... with Alastor over the deer only being sought out for his ability, and watching on as the sinner found increasingly convoluted means in which to turn down requests without infuriating the other party. It hit a little close to home for the fallen angel...
After all, it sucks when the only thing anyone ever wanted you for was what you brought to the table and not you, as a person. Or angel. Pretty sure that was what the musical pissing contest they'd gotten into that first time they ever met had been about, after all.
The downside to Lucifer's attempt to communicate this newfound not-animosity, was the pre-existing I-want-you-dead-and-custody-of-our-daughter relationship the pair had engendered from day dot. So he awkwardly tried to build that bridge through Charlie, just a few awkward meals and meetings that they both consciensciously tried not to kill each other in, and it was enough of an olive twig that they could have a passing discussion without rennovations being required.
Curiosity did get the best of Lucifer one day, and he did eventually ask Alastor if he'd ever been able to use his ability on Charlie or other hellborn. That had gone over as well as a firework in an antiques shop. Still, he got an answer... most hellborn were vulnerable, but no attempts on Charlie so far to test that.
The King offers a brief and extremely specific deal to Alastor to try seeing if it could influence ex-angels or those of his power rank... and there is a moment when it appears that the Radio Demon is interested. But it passes with a sharp look in those shrewd red eyes, an aborted movement to his throat and what had possibly been a trick of the light... because it had seemed like there was something there, but he could just be sleep-deprived.
That had been an uncomfortable week for Alastor.
He had surmised, based on the increased hostility from the Vees towards his radio broadcast in particular, that perhaps this had all been a fun little ploy from Vox to force Alastor to capitulate to his incessant requests to join the Vees. Possibly the only ones who would have him now...
Even Carmilla had sent a rather clipped message over with one of her underlings that Alastor need not attend the nextt Overlord meeting. He was not ignorant of her caution, and the why. In her place, he might do the same... at least when Vox was starting his nonsense, it was obvious. Alastor could theoretically 'get you' in a single conversation.
Frustrating. The loathing roiled in his body, growing daily, along with a thickening twist of anger, of murderous bloodlust and self-detestation. Even in the afterlife with thousands of souls dangling on his chains, still there was a way for him to be set apart and seen as an object of fear and hatred and disgust and untrustworthiness simply from something inherent. Something he had no control over.
To be feared for who you were and what you had done, that was simply the well-deserved prize of his Overlord station and something to be revelled in. But this was erring into deeply hidden memories of his time alive, and all the cruelty humans can have for someone different.
There was, of course, an option he had considered before... but it had seemed an over-dramatic response when it was dismissed previously. However, with recent events, and the never-ending suspicion shadowing his every movement, word and step... he would never be able to fulfil his duties as the hotelier (or the other less-voluntary requests placed upon him by the constraints of his deal).
The final straw came an evening after a truly grating day of suspicious and frightened eyes, a decreased viewership for his broadcast, and the little smear campaign Vox was running nonstop on various platforms. It was all just about to make him snap and go on a jaunty little evisceration spree...
And then, that last grain of temperance slid to the bottom of the hourglass when someone DARED to even infer that Niffty was enthralled to him against his will. One moment they had been talking, niffty grinning wildly as she spoke about her day, the surprise of finding even MORE vermin in the cellars! (Of course there were, Alastor was creating them to keep her occupied).
When she'd gestured for him to come down so she could whisper in his ear, it was nothing exceptionally exciting, just mentioning that she might have seen a video of Vox tripping over his own feet and cracking his screen on the hard head of Velvette during a press conference, that Angel had been watching on his phone that morning.
Alastor had said he also had a secret for her, and leaned in to whisper that actually, he'd seen Vox fall face-first down a flight of stairs once because Alastor had winked at him. Apparently from the outside, Niffty had gone deathly still with her eye blown and oddly blank for a full few seconds before the little maidling burst into hysterical laughter, reanimating immediately.
He'd been slammed in the chest by the handle of a familiar spear, and then Angel Dust was scooping a now-confused Niffty from him. Husk behind him, glaring down with a tight expression; as Vaggie spun the spear to face point-forwards at the spot his dead heart sluggishly trembled with almost-afterlife. It was baffling, before his brain caught up, seeing such hostility... and not knowing why.
He normally jested to prod, to prick, to frustrate and laugh at their annoyed groans. This was different. This was genuine and unabashed anger, disgust, distrust... so nakedly presented, it was like an active blow.
Charlie tried to intercede, calling for calm, as Niffty struggled to get down. To get to Alastor.
"Niff, no, he's just gonna do... that to ya again." Angel Dust mutters, his additional arms appearing to help curl the little maid in a cage of protective limbs. She writhed and protested.
"What did you say to her, you manipulative freak?" Vaggie snarls, her patience tested, and the tip of the spear jabbing through the layers of clothes sharply enough to draw blood. "I didn't think you'd even go as far as-... I thought you liked her as she is?!"
"Wait, don't let him talk. He's just gonna make us back down..." Husk added, eyes cold as he angles himself so he can spread a wing between Alastor's gaze and the wriggling Niffty.
"You think I-...?" he tried to explain, anyway. Not Niffty. Hells, not even Husker when he was being insolent. The words choked off as the blade sunk in just a bit further.
These fools and their hasty judgements. Always assuming, never asking. Just like his life, and look how that had panned out! His claws grasped the carpet below, fighting to withhold the automatic response of an overlord transformation. Eyes flickering with radio dials, antlers trying to snap out and bones cracking; it could be suppressed with effort.
"Whoa, guys, stop it! I don't think he was hurting Niffty or-... or saying anything, let's just calm down!" Charlie begs, getting desperate as she tries to pull Vaggie away without hurting her girlfriend or twisting the blade in any way.
"Ï̸̳̺͕͎̣͕̤̩͓̊̍͐͋̊̃̌̈́̔̒͆̊͘͜͜ ̶̛͓̥̬̅́̓̎w̷͚̤̦͙̖͒̓̊̾̑́͝ǫ̵͓̫̰̹̽͛͒͆̿͌̂͑̔͊͝ủ̶̧͙͚̦͚͖̳̭̦̫͎́̈́̾̃͊̊̿̂͊̕̕͜͠l̷̨̥̰̗͕͖͂̍͊̈́͒̓̎̌̅̀͆̾̃̾͘d̵̰̻͒͌̈̊̏̋ ̵̡̯͖̣̳̑̾̀̔͋N̶̫̦̩͐̃̋̿̄̓̀̀̀͛́̄͑̾͝E̸̹̗͔͍̗̜͌̿̐̋́̇͗̎͋̽͘̚V̴͍̋̈́̄̋̀̈́̿E̸̜̒̋͒̒̌̈̑̉͛̍͂͌̕̕ͅR̶̢̜̤͍̙͖͐͒͌̈́̀͑̂̑͝ ̶̯̰̫͇̺͔̗̣̼̟̪͖͉̟̓ͅh̷̡̡̧̠͈̳̥̣̒̕u̷̢̡̨͔͍̝͈̞͂̋̊̈́̈͐̌̍̈͛̆̔͋̚r̴͙̥̭͎͔͊̄̾̑̒̆̔̈́̈́͛̈͌̚ͅẗ̸̡͖̖͎̺̜̞̖̫́͊̐̓̄̋̽̀͛̅͘ͅͅͅ ̴͕̲͈̭̙͐̎̇͊N̸͈͉͎̺̂̔̀̃̍̔̓̾̓͑̊̀į̸̛̰̝̩͍̩̱̟̦̬̣̠̣͈͍̀̀̈́̈̊̾̇͊͐͝͝f̷̧̤̝̙͉͕̱̘̜͍̩̳͇̰̂̅͗͛̒̋̐͗̐f̴͍̹̘̱̭̬͐̒̌̔̓̕͜t̷̛̛͇̏̊͒̓̆̆̒̓̊̾͗y̷̨̧̦̻̮͓̲͆̀͜͝ͅ,̵̧̛̣̤̳̳͈͎̝̑͒̒̈́͛̿̔̋́̌̕͜ͅ ̶̙̯̞̩̳͓̺̼̿̔̀̊͐͘ͅỵ̵̢͓̲̙̺̙̤͇͔̠͓̟͋̈́͗͜͝ơ̷͇̲̮̫̄̊̋́̊̈́̓̍u̵̢̦̗̘͚̍̔̎̓͂̋͂̉̈́̐̊̆̐͋͘ ̴̢̧̻̥̙͓̘͕̹̞̱͑͗̄̅͊̊͒͠͝ͅs̴̳̎̾ǐ̵̢̥̥̞̭̘̟̦̘͔̼̼̹̔͑̃̿͠m̵̩͉͕͓͖͖͛̓̈͊̈͛̈̈͛̈́̇͛͠p̷͉͎͉͔̝͓̠̤̣̰̼̬̭̹̲̄͊̔̈̆̎̉l̶̛̲͖͍̫̮̏͊̉̀͗̔̂͛̃̚e̸̛̗͈̼̠͉̝̺̬̫̙̭͗̒̉̀̆̓̌̔ͅ-̸̬͈̹̖̮̊͊͗͜m̸͍̩͇̈̏̇̈́̎͛̀́̀i̴͙͆͘n̴̛̛͈͇̪̳̮̊͒͆d̷̡̲͈͎̙̥̲̥̒̋͆͊̌̈̍̊̔̚͝e̷̡̧͓̞̥̬̭̯͙̮̰͛͋̊̈́͛̅̽̈̇̕̕d̴͈͇̖̖̦̲͇͉͚͍͖̀̅̈́̚͜ ̶̧̛̰̮̪̰͍͍͙̺͇͕̣̎͊̿̓̾́̿̾̾̒̿̕͘͜͜f̷̝́͗̒͐̊͝ọ̸̮̗̦̰̜̬̣͚̇̈̇̄͜ô̶̡̡̯̭̠̝͖͕͍̳̞͓͍̑͌̑̌̋͠l̵͔͇̤̊͂̈̓̈́̾́̅̓̔͌̒͝ͅs̶͇͓̬͔̝̝̥̪̟͎͂̓̌̆͗̉͒͋̅͘̕!̶̢̢̡̛̛̹͓̘̮̖͕̏͆̇̉̅̚̕͜" he snarls, all shrieking radio static and coiling rage.
That gets their attention, and just enough breathing space for the Overlord to push back from the impaling speartip, to sink into his shadows. He ignores Charlie's calls to come back, fleeing to his rooms in desperation and a humiliation he hasn't felt since he was alive.
Within the twisting labyrinthine confines of his own room, secreted in a bathroom, Lucifer is the first to find him. Of course it would be the irritatingly familiar ex-archangel. Who else could swoop through the bayou and detect magical signatures well enough to find him?
"Fuck, Al, what did you do?" the King gasps, sorrow and horror at war on his features. Sure, the radio guy was a prick, but this was... something else. Charlie had told him what happened, and that Vaggie had used her angelic blade, so she thought Allan (wait, Alucard? Alice? Al... something) might need a patch-up from the one and only.
Charlie was settling things down now, with Niffty adamantly denying Alastor did anything to her, and they were being super mean. She did get a time out form Lucifer for threatening to impale Vagatha with her spear for hurting Alastor. Sure, she was an adult... but they all needed 10 minutes in the Calm Down Corner from time to time.
Sprawled across the bathroom tiles, haphazardly covered in leaves from the outside foliage and seeping blood, was Alastor. His expression bordering on manic, shadow lunging at the King protectively as he approached, and mouth glowing with sharp, cruel glowing green stitches. The Radio Demon's eyes flickered between dials and his normal red, sharp claws scoring his face as they clasped his cheeks about the ever present and now glowing grin.
His eyes roved the rapidly healing marks before they began to fade, sighting the equally angry green X over the announcer's throat. He knew, the moment he saw it, what Alastor had done... but this, well, fuck. This was someone driven beyond snapping by their own inherent powers.
Can't say he'd never been there, but sadly... had never had the option to bind his own abilities away. Except with, you know, the bone-deep depression that sapped his every ion of energy for decades at a time.
"Well, Charlie's gonna be really mad at you... but let's see what we can do about this, Angela." he says, pushing past the shadow without any real effort, scooping the lanky fucker up and treading the unstable swampy ground back to the room portion of the bedroom.
He did what he could to at least settle the self-inflicted binding, which wasn't much, that was under Alastor's control... and tried not to shudder at the absolute lack of response he received from the normally adversarial demon when Lucifer actually had to touch his chest to heal the puncture there.
They sat in silence for a long, long time, both staring beyond the room as the day spiralled into night and back again. Charlie came in quietly at one point, but Lucifer sends her away. This was... a lot for someone as gentle as she was.
Somewhere below, she is yelling. Something is cracking, splintering; possibly that one wall everyone insisted on using as a door. He is proud of her, in a distant way, a real Princess of Hell when she needs to be.
"That's our girl..." he huffs, trying to goad the other into speaking and receiving no response. This was going to take a while.
When he snapped awake a few hours later to find Niffty sprawled over the sleeping Alastor, he doesn't bother to wake either, just conjures a blanket.
----------
A few days past the incident, and it was as if nothing happened.
Alastor walked, talk and spoke without any sign of breaking so deeply. He could feel Charlie and Lucifer's eyes on him, and the deliberate avoidance from the other residents. Whether from shame or guilt or seething resentment at Charlie yelling at them, he's not sure.
There were some half-hearted apologies, some begrudging muttering about overreacting.
All he knows for certain, is that no one outside of Niffty and the Morningstars really understood what he had done.
That was fine.
He was fine.
----------
...until he wasn't.
-----------
It wasn't until the shield shatters above the hotel in a truly dramatic fashion, that the Hazbin team and assorted cannibals realised just how difficult the battle was going to be. Things had been going swell up to that point... well, as well as a handful of sinners and hellborn against the might of angels could go.
Alastor dodges and weaves, goading and cajoling his enemy, keeping him trained on the Demon and away from the crowd. His exorcists thinning out by the moment as Cannibals feasted and residents rallied.
Railguns boomed, sharpened cards sliced through the air, someone was yelling and quite a number of people were howling. Whether in delight or anguish was unclear, as he was busy.
Adam was more formidable than anticipated, however, and the moment that his staff was destroyed Alastor understood things had gone from abysmal to apocalyptic in short order. In the split second as his static cracked into his normal speech, the reaction time lagged enough for that egotistical first man to land a sharp blow he could not avoid.
The other goaded his anticipated prey, advancing on the Radio Demon, downed and certain that the graced blade had rent his ribcage in two. In a panic, he could feel his mind trying desperately to reach for his Voice, a last ditch effort to at least distract the Angel for a second to engender his own exit.
An internal vibration... and the sharp, instantaneous sting of it striking the magical threads at his throat, his lips. The smile never fell, it could not, but it twitched.
He threw out his best one-liner and dissolved into shadow before he could be destroyed utterly.
--------
Husk felt his collar shudder and phase out momentarily, the sensation like static down his spine, and if Cherri Bomb hadn't been paying enough attention to tackle the cat he'd be a shishkabob.
"Head in the game, Whiskers." she laughed, Angel helping them both up while firing wildly with his alternate arms.
"You good?" Angel asks, smiling as Husker sheered an angel's head off using the tipped cards.
"I... yeah, just for a sec there I thought... my collar, it kinda just shuddered. I thought it was gonna break."
"Oh... you don't think... ?"
"Nah, he's got that Voice Voodoo thing, maybe he can get inta Adam's head and make 'em all stop." Husker shrugged, uncertain and deciding to ignore it in favour of survivng the next few minutes.
"On ya left!" Cherri yells, hurling something explosive behind Husk and cackling as pieces of Exterminator rained down in dripping golden rain.
----------
Of course, the one time he actually needed the damn thing, the one time it would have been acceptable to use... it was gone.
He never could do anything right, he laments alone in the radio tower. Painting a trail of misery and self-loathing.
Why hadd he bothered to assauge the worries of gnats like the residents? Why had he fought for them?
It was all so meaningless.
It was almost enough to tempt him into taking Vox's offer of joinging the Vees... and it became more persuasive every hour he sat there alone, unable to move and untended. At least Vox was obsessive enough to never leave him alone and unsurveilled for long after a battle like this. Or ever, really.
A telltale crackle as the hatch screeched open. Ah, speak of the devil...
----------
Sir Pentioussss was no longer among them, but Adam was defeated.
In the moments after, the gaping silence, the world felt too big and too small and suffocating in both extremes. Charlie let her anguish out in song, comforted by those around her as they brought her back to the here and now.
It was only once the hotel was mid-rebuild that someone noticed the frantic Niffty (still coated in the blood of several dozen angels) searching everywhere for Alastor. Husk waved it off, stating he could feel the collar in place, so the fucker had to be alive somewhere.
Angel then reminded him about that moment in battle, the cat had almost forgotten given everything else happening around them. Charlie dropped a heavy beam she'd been lifting, only just avoiding making her father a few inches shorter through his own agility.
"WHAT? Why didn't you say anything? He could be really hurt!" She tugged at her hair as her emotions started to roil internally.
"Like I said, collar's still there... so he's alright. Or alive at least. Legs and I think he used his Voice to get away from that First Guy, 'cause it was almost immediately after that that Adam came swooping down to have a go at you..." Husk shrugs again, going for indifferent, but his hackles seemed raised. If only a little.
"BUT HE DOESN'T HAVE HIS- mmmph!!!" Charlie started, before Lucifer clasped a hand over her mouth.
"Ha hah, Charlie, I don't think that's something he'd be comfortable with us sharing. So maybe let's just go look for him, and check that smug strawberry motherfucker is alive, okay?" the hostility felt a little forced, as he strongarmed his daughter away. "Right, now where would the idiot go if he was hiding? Not his room, it's in like, 100 pieces... hmmm, is there a place you can eat crying orphans around here? I think that'd be his style..."
"Daaaaaaad!" Charlie half-giggled, rolling her eyes. He was doing this for her benefit, of course, and it sort of worked. "Actually, what about his tower?"
"Yeah, that sounds like him... but where'd it end up?" Husk asked, glancing about.
Angel twists himself around, then points somewhere off in the distance. "Hey is that it? Looks about right, but there's like, blue sparks coming off it..."
"Well, no time like the present to at least have a look..." Lucifer shrugs, launching into the air with Charlie and heading towards the site. From above, he couldn't help but notice that Vagatha was frantically attempting to reign in the speeding red blur of Niffty as the other beelined for the collapsed structure.
------
Electricity crackles in all directions, singing his skin and setting the few nerves left untouched by his other wound, ablaze with anguish.
"We didn't have to come to this," the voice almost pleads. "You can still be part of us, I can make the video of your little fuck up with Adam disappear... all you have to do is put aside your fucking pride and accept my offer, Al. C'mon, just take my hand and we'll go get you healed up... it won't be anywhere near as bad as you're imagining. What say we don't have you do any collabs with Valentino for, say, the first year or so... that's reasonable, right?"
The words are like the tide, relentless and punctuated by rushes of static and the buzz of electricity. His head pounds, but the other Overlord was starting to wear him down... at least... huh, at least Vox had come looking. For all Charlotte spouted about friendship and togetherness, she was not here.
"What's the matter, cat got your tongue? You haven't even tried to use your Voice on me yet..." Vox pauses to consider, it's functionally useless against the other but they both tended to get a little excited during fights knowing it wouldn't affect the enemy overlord at all. "Am I not good enough for you? Hang on, did that Angel fuck you up more than I thought? Is this working on you now?"
Funnily enough, that swirling eye was making itself rather prominent in Alastor's fading thoughts. The very notion that it might be hypnosis working was enough to make his gorge rise, heart thundering in his own ears and a flicker of his overlord form crackled to the forefront.
"HAH! You cannot be serious, this is the best fucking day of my afterlife!" Vox crows, realising what he wanted for decades was now literally in reach, as he crowds the other Overlord in. Kneeling over Alastor's slumped form, hand cupping his chin so tenderly as he forces the other to gaze right into his eyes. "It's okay, just... sleep for a bit and when you wake up we'll make a deal, and you'll be a Vee. Trust me. It's for the best... that's it, let me in and it won't hurt anymore."
Damn it all, the suggestion feels like sinking into a warm bath. Distantly he wonders if this is how his own power feels when exerted against another.. and then the world becomes fuzzy, quiet, and he doesn't respond to the feeling of those taloned metallic hands on his arms.
Clarity snaps back like a cold bucket of water straight to the face as Vox is slammed against a wall by a majestic looking wing. Followed up immediately by Charlie lunging for the Overlord, claws extended.
"GET AWAY FROM HIM!"
Ah, if he'd had the energy to laugh he would have. In disbelief or relief, even Alastor was unsure.
"Shit, Smiles looks fucked up!" comes the unfortunately true but otherwise unhelpful input from Angel Dust. "Hang on, why's Vox here?"
"Probably fishing for Alastor to join his team again, he's always doin' that." Husker reponds, grunting as he seems to be the only thing holding back Niffty right now. She's got a knife, if his eyes are still working right, and is trying valiantly to end the television.
"Yeah, he's right you're pretty fucked up." Lucifer adds, hand over the injury as he let out a low whistle. "Hey, so I'm gonna go ahead and guess he used that weird grace guitar of his... so this might sting a bit, just hold on."
He covered them both with his wings as the roof of the small space peeled free with the growing form within.
Static crackled, popped and sent chills up the spine of those who heard it as the ex-archangel wrestled the spark of divinity right out of the gash before healing it. Somewhere in the background, Vox was rising to his overlord form, swiping at the others and being driven back.
Vaggie was forcing the other out of the small area using her spear, ironically, and he tried to laugh but all that came out was a croak. Without his staff, the laugh track would likely come out distorted and distressing to the others at such a short range.
"That'll do until we get back to the hotel proper and we get you a shower. I know you have that whole cannibal mystique shit going on, but you reek like a dozen types of blood and gore, and a bit like Heaven but gone off... I think that's the last bit of Adam on you." Lucifer says, wiping his hands on the once-pristine white shirt and grabbing the demon's flagging attention.
"...thank you, your majesty." he conceded, sititng up without the world spinning for the first time in what felt like aeons. He tries to straighten his clothing, but decides that at this point they are beyond repair and gives up. It is not as if those gathered are likely to run to the press.
"Vaggie!" comes the anguished cry as the ex-orcist was struck violently by a whipping cable as thick as her arm.
"Stooping to hitting women now, Podcast? Have you no class?" he infuses strength he doesn't really have into his voice. Stretching out a tendril to snatch Vagatha from the air, and set her down.
He starts to writhe into his own Overlord form, feeling it fight him back as his partially healed body protested the snapping of bones and surging power. Swatting at Vox to force him away from the others, before someone got hurt.
A dazed Angel Dust wobbled into the arms of Charlie, eyes swirling as the spell snaps.
Alastor growls then, frustrated that he had no current ability to nullify the other overlord's powers. Thinking rationally on it, he should have at least tried to Voxproof the others in a similar manner to that of the Vees. Why had it come to things before he came to a common sense conclusion?
A cable wraps about his arm delivering sharp volts right into his spine. He plunges a clawed hand deep into the other's chest, tearing and gouging where he could to reach for a still humanoid heart where it pumped frenetically.
"Okay, I've had about enough of this. We've all had a long day, so you two need to calm down, right about now." Lucifer called, getting between the battling forms and outright basting them in bright angelic light. Vox, unused to being around such things, crumples to his Demon form with a curse. Alastor, on the other hand, feels a flare in his chest and shrinks slowly down until he lands on his knees.
"Box, was it? I'd go now, if I were you. We need to fix up the hotel and get our ducks in a row... heh. Buh-bye."
Succinctly dismissed, the other overlord stares in disbelief, then hurtles himself away in electrical form towards a nearby powerline.
"Are all Overlords such dramatic babies?" the King goads, sideyeing the other. "Or just you two? That Camero lady seems like she wouldn't need this level of babysitting..."
If looks could kill, Lucifer would be deepfried.
And then Charlie was there, sobbing into the overlord's shoulder and squeezing with not insignificant strength. "I thought you were d-d-deaaaaaaaaad!" she wailed, emotions fraught after already losing Pentious and then this whole mess.
"There there dear, I promise I'm still very much in one piece." he assured, ignoring Lucifer's snort and the obvious glance to his nearly bisected attire. "Nothing a quick shower won't fix, a-... oof!"
And there was Niffty, like a small cannonball of hysterical sobbing in his other side. "Sir, you're okay!"
'Always, Niffty. Deep breath, dear." Petting her head seemed to soothe her slightly.
"Hey uh, since we're like celebratin' you living through all this crap with us, I kinda wanna take the chance to say sorry about the whole... other day with Niffty. " Angel said, rubbing his arm sheepishly. "It's just... Vox uses his thing to make people do what he wants, and then Val he uh... well, I think you know about his venom, right? Just got panicked about it. But I shouldn't have..."
Husk grumbles as he's elbowed sharply in the side. "Yeah yeah, I'm sorry too. I hate ya got my soul on your strings, but like... I never saw you use yer Voice for anything that didn't warrant it. And sometimes if Niffty needed it, or..." he mumbles something, and refuses to look at Alastor at all.
There had been a few times when Husker needed a Soothing Bedtime Story of his own to help him through the worst of his detoxing. The drinking at the moment was a lot, but not the excess he'd been strung out on before the Radio Demon had put him on his employ. Because when you could drink with an Overlord's tolerance, and healing factor, it can be hard to revert. They never overtly talked about it and Alastor always assumed that Husk had forgotten.
"I accept your remorse, of course... but rest assured that the matter is dealt with." he replies, waving off the excess of emotion and helping to pry the starting-to-bruise grip Charlie had about him off with the support of Vaggie.
"I'm also sorry." Vaggie says, short and clipped.
"Noted." he nods. "Niffty my deer, would you mind giving Charlie one of your extra special hugs, I believe she might be in need?"
And just like that, the two snap together like magnets, resolving their emotions together and leaving the Radio Demon free.
"Yeah, so what the fuck does that mean, exactly?" Angel asks, squinting at the overlord.
"I wouldn't worry about it too mu-..." Alastor deflects, but then there is Lucifer. Face as severe as it is smug.
"The fucking idiot panicked after you guys reacted over him whispering to Natalie there, and used his power to lock that voice hypnosis thing he does away. Which was STUPID and RECKLESS especially when you consider that we were going to war with Heaven in like a week!"
"Wha-... how the fuck do you even do that?" Husk scowls, paws curling up in a genuine gesture of 'are you serious?'.
He considers sinking into shadow and slipping away from all this sickening emtional bonding and honesty, preferably before anyone starts singing about friendship. His overtaxed nerves would not manage that today. But decides that it would only stretch the inevitable...
"Why, like this, dear Husker." He smiles, head tilting as his eyes flared to radio dials and the stitches appeared glowing green against the ever-present smile, at his throat in a violent x. "It's easier than you think."
"Shit."
Angel just winces.
"Okay, so how do we like, undo that? Can you do it, Sir?" Vaggie turns to Lucifer.
"I can, but he has to want me to or they'll just remanifest later. That's the funky part of using your own powers to bind your powers." he shrugs. "Also, can we do this back at the hotel? It's getting late and we've had a pretty weird day."
"Yes, that would be ideal. Does anyone have a weak stomach? Shadow travel can take some like that the first time." Alastor asks, his shade swirling on the ground and pooling in inky darkness. He actually lets out a rather deer like sound of startlement when Lucifer bonks him on the head with that blasted cane.
"Oh no you don't. No using your powers until I've fixed you up, or you'll make it worse. I'm just going to portal us all back."
His mind was stuck back in the moment of being actively bonked by the king of hell and how absolutely absurd it was in the moment.
"Fine." His ears folded down, annoyed.
He pointedly ignored Charlie's gasp of delight at the movement.
"Oh hey, Smiles, this is yours, right?" Angel says, holding up two halves of the microphone in his hands. "Vox was... he was tryna take it with him when we were forcing him out, but Vaggie knocked it outta his grasp. Not sure if it was like, broken before but it kinda is now."
"Thank you, I was not aware that Vox had attempted to pilfer it. He did not break it, he doesn't have the power to do so or he would have done it decades ago... it was bisected by that loud buffoon leading the exterminators."
"Okay, add that to the list of shit I can fix because I'm the motherfucking King of Hell and really good at what I do." Lucifer brags, opening a portal. "Everyone get your butts through. Anyone who can't take two steps on their own gets carried... and it will be bridal style."
Alastor had never put so much concentration into walking a mere five paces before in his life, but managed to make it through the portal before sinking onto a lounge chair. He had questions about why there were lounge chairs in the half-built location... but they could wait.
"Hey Smiles, I was wondering," and he tenses for the query as Angel Dust drops onto the couch beside him. Space between them, but still a tad closer than he really felt comfortable with. "that thing you mentioned Vox doing to Val and Vel to stop you doing your Voice thing with them... you think you could like, do that for us? When Vox got in our heads today it was... it was so weird, I mean Val's venom does certain stuff but not like that. This was more like... felt like you were kind of moving into the passenger seat as he took the wheel, ya know?"
"Felt super gross, not a fan." Vaggie supplied. That also answered his question about ex-angels...
"...I believe I may be able to, yes. If you and the others are comfortable enough knowing I have such an ability." It was a pointed dig, he knew, but after everything... it felt fair to ask.
"Hey, look we totally fucked up on that, and we're sorry. But you ain't done anything to hurt us yet, lot of posturing and you probably need like, a daily hug therapy or whatevs for all of... this," Angel gestures at the whole of Alastor, confusing the demon further. "But you never made us do nothing with that power of yours, and I can't say I wouldn't have been tempted if I had it. And it's part of you, we never meant for you to like... go and sew it up or whatever the hell that is."
"I can feel you building up a storm of a speech about second chances, Charlotte, do take a deep breath."
"Oh Al, I mean yes I am and we should absolutely try that hug therapy idea with the residents but please let my dad remove the strings. You do weird creepy shit sometimes, but you're OUR Radio Demon and we trust you..."
The first reply gets caught in an uncharacteristic wad of emotion deep inside his throat, and he has to clear it away before trying again. "...very well, if you are sure this will not devolve into suspicion and finger pointing again, I will request his Lowness's aid in removing the binding."
"Finally, some common fucking sense from yo- WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?"
"Apologies, I didn't realise you couldn't hear me all the way down there."
"Oh you fucke-...!"
"DAD! He's just riling you up to deflect, can you please just finish healing him so I can stop worrying and go have a shower?" Charlie sighed.
"Of course Char-Char. Hey, why don't you all go shower and when we're finished here, we can try making pancakes! I think the kitchens are finished... if not, there's always magic!" Lucifer grins.
"I... I know it's silly but I kind of want to wait until everyone's okay first then I'll go. Oh, I know! Let me fix your microphone, Alastor, so I can help!"
"...as you wish, Charlotte. I am certain that you will succeed."
"A shower sounds so good right now..." Angel groans.
"Hn." Husk half-agrees, wanting to be clean... but at what cost for the feline sinner?
"Niffty, if Husk tries to evade showering, you know what to do." Alastor grins, eyeing the now-nervous cat.
"You wouldn't dare..."
"I would, and so would dear Niffty."
"Can I have your attention for like a minute? Trying to unfasten a binding here..." Lucifer interrupts, braving the glare as he turns the sinner towards him and prods his cheek until the threads manifest. He traces them with his finger and it's uncomfortable for everyone... but seconds later, the green turned to golden light and then dissipated.
"That should do it, but uh... you might want to test it. Somehow."
"Oooh, ooooooh pick me!" Niffty yells, bouncing up and down.
"As you wish, Niffty would you please put down your blade and come here?" he tries, the familiar texture layering over the words. He watches in surprise as Niffty does so, and then bounces onto his lap.
He releases the compulsion easily. "Thank you for that, Niffty."
"Anytime, sir!"
Charlie claps her hands together, Vaggie already pushing her across the floor towards her room for a well-deserved shower. "Alastor, did you see? I fixed the staff!!!"
"Excellent work, Charlotte, I would expect nothing less! Do hold onto that a moment while we all get spruced up for some well deserved food..."
Relieved things were back to normalish, the hotel inhabitants start to disperse.
"Hey, while we're in the process of fixing things you've managed to get yourself into without thinking, any chance you'll tell me who the soul collar you're wearing belongs to?" Lucifer adds a tad too casually, and easily ducks the couch thrown at him, as the others pause in various states of surprise and shock.
"What?"
"Who?"
"how the fuc-?!"
"You inta pet play, Smiles?"
"How could you hide this from me, I could have helpe-... wait, what did you just say, Angel?"
"You heard me, Princess."
"That was a low blow your majesty, but I suppose that's all you can manage give your stature..."
"Oh you motherfucke-..."
Charlie sighs, covering her eyes. "Here we go again..."
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dragons-and-handcuffs · 8 months
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Maegor and Maegor ii finding rich girl Viseriya in an isolated beach and make good ise of her. She is never seen by anyone again.
Viseriya visited her family beach house with a private beach. She is rich, she is young and slutty, she just wants to have fun. She thought Maegor and Maegor ii are the caretaker or maintenance guys and allowed them to stay in the property. She walks around wearing her slutty revealing bikini and of course they are going to lust after her. She willingly flirts with them, gets close to them. She just wants to have fun but the father and son has different plans. It started with a threesome where hot steamy kiss were exchanged, Viseriya pressed between them. When she found out they are father and son she found it even hotter. They rip out her tiny bikini and touched her everywhere. Things started to get rough but Viseriya couldn't say no to them, she is already very wet and horny. They started to say dirty humiliating things to her, treating her like an object. They fucked her all around the house and the beach. They stayed there for a few days, keeping her tied up or locked or drugged. They left photos and videos of their stay before disappearing with Viseriya
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contremineur · 2 months
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Bashō, coming to the city of Nagoya, is asked to a snow party. There is a tinkling of china and tea into china; there are introductions. Then everyone crowds to the window to watch the falling snow. Snow is falling on Nagoya and farther south on the tiles of Kyoto; eastward, beyond Irago, it is falling like leaves on the cold sea. Elsewhere they are burning witches and heretics in the boiling squares, thousands have died since dawn in the service of barbarous kings; but there is silence in the houses of Nagoya and the hills of Ise.
Derek Mahon, The snow party (in ‘The Snow Party’, Oxford University Press, 1975)
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nevzatboyraz44 · 9 months
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Reichelt was focused on developing a wearable parachute suit for aviators that would help them survive if they had to jump out of a plane.
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Reichelt, havacılar için uçaktan atlamak zorunda kaldıklarında hayatta kalmalarını sağlayacak giyilebilir bir paraşüt takımı geliştirmeye odaklanmıştı.
Believing that an experiment from a platform of a suitable height would prove this new invention, Reichelt petitioned the Paris District Police Department several times to be able to jump from the first platform of the Eiffel Tower closest to the ground.
He finally managed to get permission in 1912, and on February 4, he made it clear that he intended to perform the jump himself rather than using a dummy.
Despite all efforts to dissuade him, Reichelt made the jump and died after falling from approximately 57 meters as his parachute did not open.
The next day, newspapers reported the news of Reichelt's death under the headline "daring inventor".
In addition, images taken during his jump were published in the press.
......
Uygun yükseklikteki bir platformdan yapacağı deneyin bu yeni buluşunu kanıtlayacağına inanan Reichelt, Eyfel Kulesi'nin yere en yakın ilk platformundan atlayış yapabilmek için Paris Bölgesi Emniyet Müdürlüğü'ne defalarca dilekçe verdi.
Sonunda 1912'de izin almayı başardı ve 4 Şubat günü manken kullanmak yerine bizzat kendisinin atlayışı gerçekleştirmeyi düşündüğünü açıkça belirtti.
Tüm vazgeçirme çabalarına rağmen Reichelt atlayışı gerçekleştirdi ve paraşütün açılmaması sonucu yaklaşık 57 metreden düşerek hayatını kaybetti.
Ertesi gün gazeteler "gözükara mucit" başlığıyla Reichelt'in ölüm haberini verdi.
Ayrıca atlayışı esnasında çekilen görüntüler basında yer aldı.
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At the beginning of February 1912, Reichelt announced to the press that he had finally received permission to jump from the Eiffel Tower.
On Sunday morning, February 4, he came to the tower with his two friends.
The parachute suit he was wearing did not restrict the user's movements.
The opening method of the parachute was by the jumper opening his arms in the form of a cross.
Members of the press following the jump described the outfit as "a large kind of hooded silk cloak".
......
Reichelt, Şubat 1912 başında basına Eyfel Kulesi atlayışı için sonunda izin aldığını duyurdu.
4 Şubat Pazar sabahı, iki arkadaşıyla birlikte kuleye geldi.
Giymiş olduğu paraşüt takımı, kullanıcısının hareketlerini kısıtlamamaktaydı.
Paraşütün açılma yöntemi ise, atlayan kişinin haç biçiminde kollarını açmasıyla gerçekleşiyordu.
Atlayışı takip eden basın mensupları, kıyafet için "büyük bir çeşit kapüşonlu ipek pelerin" tabirinde bulunmuştu.
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limerental · 7 months
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ficletvember 2023 - day 10
isengrim/dijkstra fuck or die
In the wilds of Zerrikania, Wolf Isengrim and Sigi Reuven stumble on a refreshing oasis that isn't all that it seems. cw for gross tender explicit sex that is dubcon but ultimately very consensual. and it's dijkstra so of course there's size kink obviously.
It was sheer foolishness that had driven them not to the question the surreal glisten of the oasis, marveling at the blue water that beckoned among the rocks.
More foolish still, it was not thirst that drove the wanderers into the pool. Once they had left the hostile Elskerdeg Pass behind, the Zerrikanian road they had trudged down the past month boasted stone wells at regular intervals for watering merchant caravans and livestock. Refilling their waterskins was rarely an issue.
As summer crested with rising heat, the road grew barren and dusty, and there had been no opportunity to bathe since leaving the North behind for good. 
For the elf, infrequent bathing had been the way of things for years now, and he at least should have had the sense to be wary. There were pools like this in the wilder parts of the Northern forests. He had lived most of his life in the Blue Mountains, said to be the oldest mountain range in the world, and the hills there were full of trickery, requiring careful navigation in forests and valleys that seemed to turn travellers around in a maze and beckon them deep into the bellies of caverns.
But Isengrim Faoiltiarna had been nothing but wary for ages and ages, and something about the strange human that stepped to the edge of the blue pool beside him had slowly stripped him of all his careful defenses over their months of travel and left him with a rather large blind spot.
He had never seen the man calling himself Sigi Reuven naked and very much wanted to.
The man was broad in every sense, down to the cheeky grin he wore as he caught Isengrim watching him undress. It was not some graceful, coy tease worthy of a seedy Novigradian bathhouse, and the very thought of the immense man engaging in such flirtations was deeply humorous. 
But it sent an unexplainable thrill through Isengrim's body to watch thick fingers loosen the buttons straining across his torso and drop to press aside the meat of his stomach to unbuckle his belt and shove down his trousers. Beneath, he wore frumpy, sweat-stained underclothes. Far from sensual. But the promise of the expanse of skin soon to be revealed sent Isengrim's pulse into his throat.
Something about this man stirred up long-dead desires in him. The ache to be close, to touch, to be touched in return. He could not in his memory recall desiring a dh'oine at all, let alone with such sharp intensity.
As they would soon come to find out, something about this blue oasis had plenty to do with stirring desire as well.
"Go on, Grim," said Reuven, voice dropped low, thumbs in the waistband of his smallclothes. "You're a tad overdressed."
Isengrim should have balked at the foolish-sounding shortening of his name, but instead, he shrugged fully nude without pause, eyes not leaving Reuven's until the man's gaze trailed down his revealed body and stopped on the clear display of his arousal standing rigid between his legs.
Though Isengrim's body was ribby and scarred and ugly, Reuven hummed in appreciation, and the noise seemed to go right to the base of his spine. The feeling only deepened when the man shucked out of his last layers of clothing and revealed how proportional he was. Large in the breadth of his shoulders, his towering height, his gut that sat across heavy thighs, and of course, the reddened cock Reuven brazenly took in hand. The size of those hands and the fat his manhood nestled in should have made it appear smaller, but that was not so.
With his curiosity over the man's body slated, fervent new desires rose in Isengrim's mind.
When they slipped into the water, pleasantly cool and hemmed with rocks to rest against, those desires rose tenfold. 
Waist-deep, Isengrim waded close enough to touch, and if he were in his right mind, he may have hesitated, may have asked whether Reuven felt the same perplexing fondness that he did. Not just arousal but respect and trust and good humor. 
The human was the tallest he had ever stood before, tall enough that even Isengrim had to tip his neck back to look him in the eye. 
As the water rippled against their bare waists, arousal won out over any other sentiment, and they fell into one another's arms.
Isengrim's heart thundered as Reuven's palms dwarfed his ribcage, and the desperate, first kiss they shared drove them both to breathlessness. 
The heat of the man's body surrounded him, and the water itself seemed to boil.
Neither spared any thought for caution or patience. They had waited long enough, had felt the building warmth of desire since that first unexpected night around a campfire as strangers in the wilderness. 
They were far from strangers now, Isengrim's thighs strained to straddle Reuven's waist as he lay back against the rocks, wasting little time in hastening their amorous touches toward a common goal.
It should not have been so easy for the human's thick fingers to press inside his willing entrance, muscles lax and open. Had Isengrim paused to think, he may have questioned the slickness and the ease of the movement, but he had lost all thoughts but those most primal. 
To have this man wholly and to be had by him, to know every inch of him in fullness, was his only remaining impulse. 
Perhaps if they had had less long-withheld emotion for one another, the pool may have snared some other hapless travellers. Isengrim would ponder that much later while tucked in the quiet of his lover's arms at night. If things had happened differently, would their unlikely connection have been just as inevitable?
In the present, any remaining thought Isengrim had was driven from him in the first shallow thrusts of the formidable cock inside him. With less slowness than was sensible, Isengrim pressed down to meet him, spread thighs quivering with strain as Reuven's thumbs found the divots of his hipbones..
"Sigi," he gasped, and with surprising tenderness, the man drew him close to press his forehead to Isengrim's throat, as though he too were overwhelmed. Sigi held his mouth in a kiss against the line of the elf's collarbone as he deepened his upward thrusts.
If it weren't for Boreas Mun's quick-thinking intervention, that amorous embrace may have spelled the end of the pair locked together in the pool. Their travelling companion didn't know a thing about what manner beast or deity may control such a place, but he did have the common sense to know the swirl of mists and strange glow that swirled around his intertwined comrades could not be anything but hostile. 
"Wouldn't have interrupted you fellows otherwise, of course!" he repeated with annoying regularity for the rest of their day of travel and several days afterward, seemingly ignorant of the disgruntled ire directed his way by his companions.
Though both were grateful to have avoided a grisly fate wasting away in some cursed pool, as soon as night fell, they resumed their interrupted activities. 
Being overheard by the snoozing Boreas on the other side of the dwindling campfire scarcely crossed their mind.
The feeling was not so different, they discovered. 
Even without the magical impulse that had inspired them to act so rashly, Isengrim met Sigi with the same unexpected depth of desire in each kiss and touch.
The stars shone above the human's head as he leaned to cover the elf with his body, driving away the chill of the Zerrikanian night. The weight of him was settling rather than smothering. Half a year before had any told him he would enjoy such a thing so fully, lying beneath a human, Isengrim would have either laughed or drawn his sword.
In Sigi's arms, he could almost weep.
Sparse tears did escape the corners of his eyes at the cusp of it.
Unaided by the magic of the oasis, Isengrim felt the achey stretch as he willed his muscles to give. With shuddering breath, clutching at Sigi's broad shoulders, he rallied and the ache deepened into pleasure.
The strange tenderness of their joined bodies and the depth of their desire had not been a trick of the pool. 
And as Isengrim and Dijkstra would learn in the long years after, their connection and fondness were also not a trick of the lonely wilderness and the warm nights under the stars. 
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