Sorry for the radio silence, friends. Work is crazy right now. Hope you all are well.

roma★
AnasAbdin
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

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@theartofmadeline

Kaledo Art
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
todays bird
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

JVL
d e v o n

Love Begins
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KIROKAZE

Discoholic 🪩
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

Janaina Medeiros
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

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@maluminvitat
Sorry for the radio silence, friends. Work is crazy right now. Hope you all are well.
so yana really killed off seb’s only friend, huh.
(つд ◟) ….
Now the bitch is a loner.
claude-faustus:
“Please do excuse me,” Claude purred coolly, brushing off his waistcoat from any dust or debris sustained from their near-skirmish, and he kept a few feet ahead of the raven. “Follow me. It isn’t often we bring the cattle in through the front. It is usually given the honor of entering toward the back of the manor.” This was a cheeky comment, delivered humorlessly with nauseating monotone. His features were completely expressionless, a flaccid and lax outward appearance to match the lackluster fizzling ember within him named Jim Macken. Their feathers were both ruffled only moments ago, but for now, they could play in these pesky, fragile human bodies. Even these tender exteriors could produce a mouth-watering amount of pain and pleasure that the spider wanted to give and receive to the corvid for eternity. Claude could feel a sense of comfort and humility in this form, or at the least the echoes of them- though why Sebastian treasured it so would forever be lost on him.
His shoulders rolled back leisurely, and he effortlessly produced a candelabra from a carved marble table found in the foyer as they strolled into the estate. The golden-eyed demon decided that now would be apropos to offer one last warning before the two of them retired to their little love nest where they had once contracted before. An intimate room that still reeked of Michaelis’ blood. Divine. “As we’ve discussed, my young master is sleeping peacefully. We have eyes all over the manor,” Claude mused darkly, his pupils giving another magenta throb while leading the other butler down the hall. The hairs of his neck stood on end, a sense that the little ones around the rafters would keep a keen eye on the offensive avian intruder. You won’t leave my sight, raven. Let us hope for your safety that you keep that fickle attention of yours entirely on me.
The carved door was met, and as gentlemanly as possible, the arachnid opened the door to the intimate room with a table for two that Claude had designed just ever so artfully for his beloved brother in sin. The epitome of romance was found within the tasteful atmosphere of the chamber and how the private stage had been set. Claude had an eye for such thespian aesthetics, but he hardly was spared the time to flex that visionary muscle of his with such a fussy earl tugging on his leash. Sebastian was undeniably the more prim of the the two, but this prideful little pest’s impeccable decorum could be rivaled when Claude was able to work up the appetite. He always did need something much hotter- and such a tantalizing flame he lusted for was burning just across from him now. Bigger game, bigger risk, and bigger reward.
Sebastian’s aura was deliciously pulsing with heat, Claude couldn’t mistake that familiar fire and brimstone sensation anywhere. Human souls had long lost their satisfaction to his indiscriminate palate. They both knew it was Sebastian he yearned for. Claude intended to have him, all of him, as a greedy little child never enjoyed sharing their toys. As they both took their previous cues, places set, Claude regarded him from across the flickering candles on the table between them. With such dim lighting, the two handsome hell-spawn were almost indistinguishable from one another, beside the contrasting amber and garnet hues that glowed otherworldly in contrast to the moody candlelight amidst a sea of blackness. Claude folds his gloved hands on the table, politely waiting to hear his guest’s suggested contract. He was more than famished for the intimacy of such a bargain with the more ‘polished’ mirror of himself. You’ve marked this room as yours with the scent of each beautiful, ruby drop. Soon, you will again, Michaelis. Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting. The appetite may sicken, and so die.
“Cattle?” Sebastian asked, mischief curling his tenor. He gave a little laugh -- amused at his poor host’s even poorer attempt at insult. How the other demon carried out his existence as a drab, humorless mockery of a butler, Sebastian would never know. At least maintaining a sense of aesthetics imparted some semblance of challenge to his eons-long life. Without his aesthetics, he had no doubt he would be as tedious and pedestrian as the spider. “You only wish I were as unthinking and docile as all that, Faustus. Wouldn’t you love to simply walk me to the slaughter like said cattle?”
The raven felt a million eyes on him as he moved soundlessly down the main hall. At the Phantomhive Estate, we would immediately eliminate such pests, he thought, eyes flashing in warning. Like feathers preparing for flight, the fine hair on the back of his arms stood on end. The air between them was gravid, pulsing with the potential for unprecedented destruction. Oh sure, he had no doubt the Trancy Manor could be re-erected within minutes, each brick in its proper place as though nothing had happened. Demons, even those as inferior as his companion, had a great many skills, after all. But the possibility of their little tete-a-tete escalating into a beastly display of brute force -- well, that was a most enticing thought.
Still, his little lord would be most put out if the spider demon set a horde of his little minions on the Phantomhive Manor because Sebastian started a fight for pure entertainment purposes. He sighed and promised to behave, at least for now. “Your master appeals to me not at all; trust me, I’ve no intention of involving that tawdry fop to our negotiations.”
He followed Claude into the room where they’d once contracted for the possibility of claiming Ciel Phantomhive’s soul. Tonight, however, he’d come with a more alluring offer. One of a demon’s great many skills was that of knowing and understanding, intimately, the hunger burning behind the eyes of their kind. Imps were insatiable, after all, and the one leading him into the bowels of the manor was more avaricious than most. So gluttonous, in fact, was Faustus that he’d broken the one cardinal rule of their kind -- do not interfere with another’s contract. Faustus was disgusting, a man with no ethics or aesthetics, a mindless beast searching ever and evermore for his next meal.
And so, Sebastian came tonight to provide a meal that would satisfy unlike any other. One that he knew his greedy companion would scarcely turn down, no matter the cost. He took his seat before the other and steepled his hands atop the table. He smirked, and in the dim candlelight, the effect was anything but seductive. “I’d like to offer a contract for my soul, Faustus. Or rather, the possibility of you claiming my soul -- it’s not guaranteed, after all. Care to hear my terms?”
stop messing with grell shes gonna kill ya
She can certainly try to “kill me,” as you say. But as Grell-san is well aware, killing me will prove a much more difficult task than anticipated. I am not so easily dispatched.
I daresay she enjoys sparring with me simply because I am not as fragile as humans.
deathgodly:
maybe sebastian doesn’t know about the full extent of grell’s famously short temper, but it’s getting shorter and shorter as they speak. she wants to go home. or, at the very least back to the dispatch where she can bitch to ron and alan. “ painting you a pretty red is sounding rather appealing right about now. “ she practically snaps.
she licks her lips. since when did sebastian give a jot about her opinion on things ? since when did he ask her questions ? well, she’s decided it doesn’t matter and she doesn’t like it. her gloved fingers hover over the starter rope of her death scythe —– and the only thing that stops her from tugging it hard is the thought of the paperwork william’s going to give her if she gets into a fight.
“ so you have abandoned the brat. my, i didn’t think it’d take so long. “
Sebastian leered, fangs glistening in the moonlight. He watched the shinigami finger her death scythe. He tugged on his gloves, anticipation making his eyes flash a deadly red. “Abandoned my master? Hardly. It is against my demon’s aesthetics to renege on a contract before it is fulfilled. I should hate to pay for my meal and not enjoy it, in the end.”
He canted his head, wisps of black smoke rolling off his shoulders as the thrill of the fight rushed through him. “You look as though you’re itching for a dance, Grell-san. I never turn a lady down, you know.”
deathgodly:
“ my life does not revolve around you and you’ll find that i owe you nothing, certainly not an answer. “ there’s a warning in her voice as she turns back to look at him. good grief, demons can be troublesome. of course, she knew that and he isn’t the first demon she’s encountered, but still. what a pain. ( she liked him more when he wasn’t asking questions. she liked him more when he didn’t take an interest in her. )
she strokes her scythe fondly, but she’s still not too keen on the idea of using it just now. again, imagine the paperwork. “ don’t you have, i don’t know —– work to be doing ? or did you finally abandon the little brat ? “ grell demands. “ or can’t this wait until after i’m off the clock ? “ it can’t, really, considering grell would rather die again than stay in the mortal realm when she doesn’t have to. it’s so dreary here ; dreary and full of death, nothing like home.
“ perhaps this is what fate likes to call karmatic retribution for my affections towards you all this time. well, i don’t care for it one jot. i’m working. “ only again, she’s not. she’s really, really not.
“Grell-san, perhaps you remember that it is not I who started this little game of cat and well... I’m not much of a mouse, I know, but you have been seeking to “paint me a pretty red” for quite some time, no?” Sebastian asked, incredulous that the shinigami made to rebuff him at all. Since when did she actively run from him?
Truly it was confounding. And it was in his nature to discover why. Demons were many things -- lethal, beguiling, greedy, dangerous. But they were also insatiably curious. As greedily as he devoured the world’s offerings, he also devoured knowledge -- most especially, the knowledge of how others worked. What made them tick, as it were. What was able to rend them apart and destroy them.
Shinigami were indestructible. They were also immortal, so he wondered what had struck a nerve in his virtually invincible companion. What was it that made Grell-san so skittish and avoidant all of the sudden, especially when she’d been expert at finding ways to engage him in a fight in the past? “So why the sudden attention to your work now, hmmm?”
deathgodly:
it’s clear that sebastian has struck a nerve with this question and for a split second grell looks viscerally uncomfortable before she schools her features into a more neutral expression, ever the actress. this is something that she makes a point of avoiding herself, so she doesn’t like that the demon has brought it up. she looks away.
“ i’m afraid you’ve taken up enough of my time. “ no, it’s not like grell is obviously avoiding the question, of course not. her mood has soured ; this isn’t fun anymore. instead she just feels … well, how does she feel ? she doesn’t know. and that’s part of why she doesn’t want to answer. “ i’m a busy woman, as well you know. “ and that soul doesn’t have to be collected for another half hour. but maybe she can get started on the inevitable incident report that sebastian’s very presence entails.
grell stands, takes up her death scythe, then turns on her heel and walks away —– straight off of the roof, in fact. she lands on her feet and doesn’t stop for a single second, her red coat billowing out behind her. of course, there’s nothing stopping sebastian from following her, but that death scythe isn’t a toy and she’s well prepared to use it against him, especially with how uneasy he’s made her feel.
“All this time spent chasing after me and she leaves precisely when she’s gained my interest?” Sebastian asked himself. “How preposterously odd.”
The shinigami typically found any sundry excuse to find herself in his presence. That she would willingly place distance between them now was deeply confusing. He wondered why. And said rumination brought him to the initial impetus for this rooftop conversation: Grell-san was strange. Certainly her appearance was strange -- death gods were rarely so ostentatious, after all. And her murderous little jaunt with Madame Red was unusual too in the sense that her kind were duty-bound to not interfere in human affairs. Her interest in a demon was baffling, as Sebastian had lately pointed out.
But perhaps the most bizarre thing about her was the simple fact that she was completely unpredictable. For a creature as old as he, one so inured to the vicissitudes of the world that he rarely experienced surprise, very few things exceeded his capacity to foretell. The red-haired reaper, though, was never predictable. She drew near when she ought to keep her distance. And now, when invited to share his company, she fled.
“There’s nothing for it, I suppose,” he sighed, leaping after her, eyes following the vibrant red of her hair and coat. “I wonder what answer could be so unpleasant that you’ll run instead of reply. If it is worth such trouble, then it is worth knowing.”
And if his curiosity ended in a fight, well, that would prove most diverting as well.
deathgodly:
“ nothing. ” grell replies almost instantly. “ i would ask you nothing if i was limited to just one. you’d lie to me, anyway. ” she pushes her glasses further up the bridge of her nose. “ anyway, what have you ascertained, darling ? have i not taken into consideration your monstrous nature, or am i just that stupid ? ” she smiles. “ go on, what must you think of me and my poor taste ? ”
it’s not a question she cares to know the answer to, because she already knows what people think of her and she doesn’t really think that sebastian will be any different. in fact, she kind of almost hopes that he won’t answer. finally, she summons her death scythe and rams it down hard into the roof, perching on it with calculated ease. maybe this will end in a fight. she hopes it doesn’t. she’s already swamped with paperwork.
braiding her hair, she watches sebastian closely. he’s a devastatingly handsome figure against the black of night ; only moonlight illuminating his features. grell likes that. she likes what a romanticised image the demon has let himself become, and ponders over whether or not she would still want him if she knew what horrors lurked beneath. because that’s what demons do, isn’t it ? will reminds her enough, perhaps out of misguided concern or just because he likes to hear himself talk. demons are shapeshifters first and foremost : they’ll take a form you find desirable and then use it to lure you in, and the second your guard is down —– SNAP ! you’re gone. it’s like a messed up venus flytrap. ( she wonders if sebastian would welcome that comparison. )
“Now, now, Grell-san,” Sebastian purred. “I’ve been nothing but forthcoming with you this evening.” And that was the truth, actually. He hadn’t lied or evaded. It was a rare mood he was in, to be sure, but Sebastian enjoyed indulging his whims from time to time. Allowing himself the occasional oddity meant that his aesthetic was perfectly intact when occasion demanded.
And so, it was also on a whim that he answered the shinigami’s second question with uncharacteristic honesty. “I’m a monster, true enough. There is nothing beneath this alluring exterior but a void, lacking in any feeling whatsoever. Demons have no hearts, after all.” Here he paused. “But I suppose if I am to own the worst parts of my nature, I should own the least offensive as well.”
A hum, thoughtful. “Demon I may be, but I do play fair. I take only what’s been offered and I do not steal the food of others.”
“But surely, Grell-san, you’ve long known all this?” He walked closer, close enough that she could discern every shade of red in his glowing vermilion irises. “So that presents me with a rather fascinating quandary: you know precisely what I am and yet you do not keep your distance. Creatures such as myself aside, shinigami are gods of a sort. Why is that you crave the darkness?”
deathgodly:
grell thinks about that one for a short while, and keeps writing. when she has what she thinks is a good enough answer, she looks up at him again. “ perhaps. it’s a little known fact that i rarely know what i want, but i do enjoy this. you. your company and intellectual conversations. but no, i didn’t think you had a heart —– not that i know a terrible amount about demons. “
she taps her chin with her pencil before writing some more. it’s a red pencil, of course, even though it doesn’t conform to regulation. “ but as i said, it was a rhetorical question, wasn’t it ? so, why did you ask ? “ she licks her lips. “ you’re an interesting creature, dear. were it not for my common sense, i’d have sooooo many questions about you. “
she wonders what it must be like to be a demon. she wonders what it must be like to be so mindlessly hungry all the time. she wonders why they exist and if they have a higher purpose than something so base as to just stalk their prey with every waking moment. she wonders what sebastian does in his spare time … she wonders a lot, but she’s right. she won’t ask. it doesn’t really matter to her, considering one day he’ll make a wrong move and inevitably die at her hands.
“ as it stands … none of this matters. and i never saw you as the type to ask silly questions. but you have my answer. and a question that i know you won’t ever respond to. “ she goes back to her work.
Sebastian smirked, delighted as he was by this parry of words, by the wit of his companion and the boldness with which she answered his mild teasing. True enough, he enjoyed tormenting the reaper immensely. He loved watching the disappointment cloud her bright, yellow-green eyes when he rejected her advances or offered to maim her in increasingly violent and barbaric ways. But that was the way of his kind, he supposed, to be cruel.
Only with a being as strong as he -- a shinigami -- was he free to indulge in his true nature without the pretense of masks and aesthetics. It was liberating, in a way, to chat amiably with the other creature.
“Hmmm,” he mused, striding closer, step by step, the clack of his polished heels echoing against the rooftop in the cadence of a funeral dirge. “I asked to ascertain whether or not you had truly considered what I am before forming your interest.” Here he paused. “So it was not rhetorical, not entirely.”
He laughed, amazed that he was being so indulgent. “See there. I did answer your question, Grell-san. A polite interlocutor ought to make recompense,” he teased, finger tapping against his lips as though he were in deep thought. “So answer me this: what is it that you would know of me if you were bereft of your common sense? You claim you would ask sooooo many questions, but which one in particular burns most fervently in your soul?”
I just watched the musicals again and this moment finally caught my eyes!He is so perfect as Grell!>___
This bitch was ready to take his soul then and there
That Butler, Devil
“Now I can show you my true self.”
"What is a heart anyway?" (maluminvitat)
kingdom hearts sentence starters | @maluminvitat
at first, grell seems disinclined to answer that question and instead writes her notes in her little diary —– even though only god knows why she’s here. ( somebody’s going to die. she looks very serious. death follows in her wake. ) her hair is up in a high ponytail and her eyes are fixed firmly on her work ; for once she doesn’t seem too interested in being delayed. but then, she glances up at sebastian and smiles at him because she’s always had a soft spot for him.
“ you don’t want an answer for that. we both know this. but you ought to know better than to get into the realms of rhetoricals with me, sebastian darling ! “ she taps a gloved finger to her chin as if she’s thinking. “ what is a heart ? good question. medical science of the age might tell you that a heart is a thing of flesh and muscle but my understanding of it is that it is a device intricately connected to one’s soul. without a heart, how would one think and feel ? without a heart, how does one love, how does one find it within themself to hate ? after all, hate and love are similar experiences. both require a heart to function as expected. a heart is a unique facet of the human experience. “
grell goes back to writing, humming what sounds suspiciously like clair de lune to herself. she doodles hearts in her margin, leaning against the wall. before long, grell hides the diary away in one of her pockets, fiddling with her ponytail and curling crimson hair around her fingers. she looks back to sebastian. she gives him a very discerning look.
“ you know, i might ask you how you function without a heart, my love. but, of course, there’s not really much point. after all, you do indeed possess a heart ! and that heart you possess … ? “ she pauses for dramatic effect.
“ … why, it’s mine, of course ! “
Sebastian chuckled, soft like the rustling of bird’s wings. Oh certainly, on any other night, he and the crimson-haired reaper would be at one another’s throats, quite literally painting the town red with vicious jabs and parries of their respective weapons. But tonight? Well, tonight the raven felt a touch of whimsy. He felt playful, even. And what better playmate than the one who’d dare to such a thrilling danse macabre?
To be sure, the reaper had a great many shortcomings in Sebastian’s opinion, most of them related to her complete ineptitude as a butler. To prune his young master’s hedges in the shape of skulls -- what utter nonsense. But the shinigami’s skill with a blade was never in doubt. In fact, Grell-san might have maimed him permanently in their first fight had his young master’s call not interrupted. One of the few that ever left a mark, really. Even one as perpetually immovable as he could feel impressed by that.
“A heart? Me?” he asked, gesturing elegantly to the place where his heart ought to have been. “Wishful thinking on your part, no doubt. Demons don’t have hearts, Grell-san. What we have are insatiable voids -- a veritable black hole of greed and hunger, if you will.” Here he smiled, tipping his head to the side and regarding the other creature with an enigmatic expression. His eyes flashed a bright, bright vermilion before settling into their normal carmine. “Is that what you would possess? Nothingness, an empty chasm?”
what form best suits you?
Soma: Would a bro lie to you?
Ciel: Yes. Sebastian lies right to my face.
Soma: Well, he’s not a bro, then!