#nor a memory card or a second controller

[shutinlear53]

The PS2 library is so vast that it has THREE games just about the 2002 F1 season and one more which also has 2002 as a playable season

[kpopsexstories]

One-shot #22: SKZ the Morning After a Crazy Party

This is the 22nd story in my broader Mixed One-shots series. Unlike my Quick Fix series, One-shots are usually longer and more story-driven.

Celebrities: Stray Kids (x Female Reader)

Sex Content: Missionary, Doggy Style, Blowjob, Cumshot, In public/watching, Gay & straight

Type of Sex: UNCONVENTIONAL

Word Count: 3.9k

Request: Your txt ot5 stories are the hottest thing ever, you really should write more ot5 or member x member stuff in the future <3

Story: It's the morning after an incredible party when the boys of SKZ and their girlfriends are slowly waking up and starting to remember...

First of all, thanks for the request 😊😘

I too love OT stories, but especially the ones that aren't exaggeratedly gay (like the Dating Ban series is 😅). For example, I enjoy writing the Group Jerk-off stories (the members of a group jerk off together even though it's new to them/not something they usually do).

Your request, however, inspired me to write this Stray Kids story. It's actually my first Stray Kids story ever for most of the members. The story is different – and in my opinion more fun – because it has a bit of everything: straight sex, gay sex, nudity with implied sexual relations, and a few surprises along the way.

It's a fun and hot mess, in a good way 😅 So please enjoy this Stray Kids adventure, which is about what happens when they – and their female guests – wake up the morning after a crazy party in their dorm 😊😏😱😜

SKZ the Morning After a Crazy Party

It's the morning after a big Stray Kids dorm party that got a little out of control.

It was celebration of some sort. You can't really remember the reason you all got together. But when you wake up naked in Hyunjin's bed just before noon it doesn't really matter. All that matters is that you had a lot of fun, and you can feel it in your heart that you really did.

It takes you a second to orient yourself. “Morning,” Hyunjin says when he sees that you're conscious. He doesn't smile, doesn't kiss you, yet it's totally natural and normal that you're there in bed with him. It's happened before, on numerous occasions, even though you swear you're not a couple.

“Morning,” you reply and yawn. You stretch out, and the duvet slides down your legs.

Hyunjin sits up with his back toward you. He's hardly conscious either. His hair is a mess. He's hungover, tired, and butt naked. It really was a great party, and a great night.

He gets up and looks around the room. He lifts the duvet, revealing your exposed vagina but doesn't even glance at it. “Where the fuck is my underwear?” he mumbles and you giggle while you watch his slack dick swinging around.

He can't find them, nor any of the rest of his clothes. Oh well. Who cares? Not him anyway.

“Can you get me some water?” you ask and turn on your side.

Finally, a smile. “Sure,” Hyunjin says. He gives up the search and walks toward the door.

His tall, slim, sexy body and hot ass make you smile too. Memories from last night return. Oh yeaaah, you think excitedly as you just realized where his clothes actually went. But you choose not to tell him.

You don't say anything and he's not bothered anyway. He opens the door and leaves, walking naked through a hall and the shared living room toward the kitchen.

He wants to make a pit stop in the bathroom. He opens the door to it and sees Lee Know in his underwear, doing his best not to miss considering how the room is spinning.

“Sorry,” Hyunjin mumbles and walks away. He doesn't even close the door. Lee Know turns his head just in time to see his friend disappear.

Hyunjin enters the living room, where most of the party took place. There's empty bottles and cups everywhere, and a deck of playing cards spread all across the floor.

Felix is sleeping on the couch in nothing but his underwear. There's a naked girl on his arm, and another curled up by his feet. They're all passed out and oblivious to the fact that people are starting to wake up all around them.

In the kitchen, Bang Chan is staring into the fridge, questioning his life choices and wondering why the hell he hasn't been able to locate any of his clothes.

“Morning,” Hyunjin says and his naked friend turns his head.

“Morning,” Bang Chan replies. He grabs a carton of milk and walks to the counter, takes a glass out of a cupboard and fills it.

“Sorry,” Hyunjin says when he reaches in front of Bang Chan’s bare chest to get a glass for himself.

Lee Know is done in the bathroom. He walks through the living room and steps over Seungmin's legs. Hyunjin didn't even notice the man sleeping under the coffee table. When Lee Know returns to his bedroom he closes the door with a loud bang.

The noise wakes up one of the girls on the couch. She opens her eyes and lifts Felix's foot which was buried in her armpit. She finds a soiled blanket on the floor, wet and smelling of beer and vodka, pulls it over her naked body, and promptly goes back to sleep.

Felix briefly wakes up from the movement. He scratches his balls and turns his head, his lips resting on the face of the girl on his arm while he absentmindedly strokes her back. Then he quickly falls asleep again too.

Hyunjin turns on the kitchen tap and fills his glass with water. He drinks it, gulps it all down in one swift sweep, then fills it again.

“Last night was fun,” Bang Chan says and turns around. He leans his ass against the counter, dick out in the open and his buff body on full display, slowly sipping his milk which leaves a mustache.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin says and smiles. He drinks from the glass again and refills it one more time. “You've got something there,” he says and points at the milk line on Bang Chan's upper lip.

“Where?” Chan asks and takes the glass away from his face.

Hyunjin moves closer. “Right there,” he says and points.

Bang Chan stares at his friend and instinctively closes his eyes. Hyunjin leans all the way in and they kiss.

“There,” Hyunjin says and smiles, and drags a thumb over the lip after a few seconds of making out. “Now it's gone.”

Bang Chan tiredly and casually watches as Hyunjin leaves the kitchen. Then he takes another sip and the mustache is back.

“Ouch!” Seungmin exclaims when he tries to sit up and hits his head on the coffee table. Hyunjin doesn't pay him any attention, fully focused on carefully stepping over bottles and scattered clothes – none of which are his own – while trying to ignore his pounding headache.

Jeongin makes an appearance. He comes out from his bedroom in underwear and a t-shirt and bumps into Hyunjin in the hallway which causes water to spill on the floor.

“Sorry man,” he says. Hyunjin smiles and grunts, and sees Changbin's shirtless back in Jeongin’s bed when he passes the open door.

You've been waiting patiently for Hyunjin to return. When he does, he quietly closes the door behind him and hands you the glass. He spills more water on the sheet during the handover but neither of you are bothered by it.

“Thanks,” you say and sit up, then take several large gulps. You're slowly starting to come back to life.

Hyunjin walks to his window and opens the blinds. Sunlight hits his skin and your eyes, and you quickly turn away and groan.

Hyunjin scratches his stomach and admires the view, but only for a short time. He too is blinded and he soon shuts out the light again.

“Come here,” you say and move up on the bed, lifting the duvet to invite the man in. Hyunjin smiles at you and comes over, then crawls inside and cuddles up with you while you put away the glass.

*****

Bang, bang, bang, bang!

Felix wakes up from the sound with morning wood.

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!

The girl in his arm lifts her head and looks confused. “What's going on?” she asks in a coarse voice.

BANG!-BANG!-BANG!-BANG!-BANG!-BANG!-BANG!

“I don't know,” Felix says and looks around.

“AHH! AHH! AHH!” a deep voice pants from somewhere in the apartment. BANG!-BANG!-BANG!-BANG!

Seungmin's head abruptly pops up behind the coffee table. He sits up straight on the floor and stares right ahead while listening intently. Bang Chan sticks his head out from the kitchen and grins when his eyes meet Felix’s.

A woman screams: “YEAH! YEAH! OH YEAH! YES! YES! YES! YEEES!”

‘Lee Know?’ Bang Chan mouths and Felix slowly nods.

“YEAH! YEAH!”

“AHH! AHH!”

BANG! BANG! BANG!

…

Bang!

…

Bang!

…

“Ahhhhh!”

…

The apartment falls silent. The three men in the living room look at each other and burst out laughing. Even Felix's girl chuckles.

When Lee Know has clearly finished, Bang Chan returns to the kitchen. Felix smiles wide and massages his strong boner. The girl on his arm rests her head on his chest and looks down, hungover but fascinated by Felix's body. The one by his feet is still sound asleep under the blanket, completely oblivious to the loud and obvious sounds of sex.

*****

You and Hyunjin smile and giggle when the noise stops. “Who do you think that was?” he asks before gently kissing your forehead.

“No idea,” you say and reach down with your hand under the duvet. “But it made me horny.”

Hyunjin's smile grows even bigger. You kiss and he attacks you with his hands. You both giggle and roll around on the bed, making out while he gets hard and you spread your legs.

*****

“Oh, sorry,” Seungmin says when he enters Jeongin’s room, but he still goes in without remorse.

Changbin is standing naked on all four on the bed. He turns his head and smiles. “It's okay,” he says, not a hint of shame or embarrassment. But Seungmin is neither looking nor listening. He just wants to get his clothes and get out, and leave his friends to do what they're doing in peace.

“I'll just get these,” he says and picks up a shirt and a pair of pants from the floor.

Jeongin, who's on his knees behind Changbin, is frozen and doesn't speak. He waits for Seungmin to get what he came for and go away. Once he does and the door closes again, he returns his focus to Changbin's ass and continues to slowly fuck his boyfriend.

*****

Bang Chan walks naked through the apartment to assess the damage. He wipes milk off his lip with the back of his hand before he picks up a couple of bottles from the living room table.

He brings them to the kitchen but it doesn't really make a difference. He's finally sufficiently conscious to analyze the situation, take stock and remember what the hell happened last night. But he's in no mood to actually clean up, not yet. All that can wait until they've all sobered up, which will likely take the entire day.

“Where's Changbin?” he asks when he comes back out into the living room. It's one of only two members he hasn't seen or heard yet all morning.

Felix is still on the couch, wide awake by now, underwear on the floor beside him and his girl leaning over his bare stomach.

“I don't know,” he says and shrugs.

The girl briefly stops bobbing her head up and down. Felix's hard dick falls out of her mouth but she quickly picks it up and puts it back in.

A passionate noise suddenly appears from behind Jeongin's closed door. “Huuh, huuh, huuh, AHHHH!” Jeongin grunts when he comes, and Bang Chan and Felix both look up.

“That answers that question,” Bang Chan says and laughs.

“Yeah,” Felix says and puts his head back down. He faces the ceiling, closes his eyes and moans. “Yeeah. Yeeeah.”

Bang Chan smirks and leaves the naked bodies on the couch to it, continuing his walk though the apartment. The girl giving Felix a blowjob can't help but glance in his direction, just in time to see Bang Chan’s firm cheeks disappear into the hallway.

*****

“Is Han in here?” Chan asks when he pops his head into the room Seungmin and Han share. It's the obvious place to look in.

Seungmin is dressed and lounging on his bed, aimlessly scrolling through his phone.

“No,” he says and holds the phone up. “But have you seen this?”

Bang Chan walks closer. There's screams and laughter coming from the phone. The video quickly ends before his brain can register what's going on in it, but he chuckles nonetheless and Seungmin appears happy about it.

“Nice,” Bang Chan says when Seungmin leans back on the bed and returns to the screen. Then he turns around to continue his mission of making sure everything and everyone are okay.

*****

You're on your back with your knees and feet in the air. Hyunjin's slender but muscular body rocks back and forth in your arms. His hard dick is inside you and his face is buried in your neck. You're surprised but happy that he's got the energy.

“Huuh, huuh, huuh, AHHHH!” you hear from somewhere outside, when Jeongin releases his load into his boyfriend's ass several rooms away.

The sounds of pleasure carry through the apartment. And hearing his friends fuck turns Hyunjin on even more. He moves his ass up and down a little faster, and you begin to pant faintly at the ceiling, still too drunk to fully engage in the morning sex, yet definitely enjoying the sensation of Hyunjin's body and throbbing dick.

There's a knock on the door before you're finished. Bang Chan opens it without waiting for a response and you turn your head to look. Hyunjin doesn't stop or even react.

“Have you seen Han?” the man in the door asks while looking directly at you.

“No,” you say while Hyunjin presses his nose harder against the side of your face. The dick slides in and out of your vagina and you feel his warm breath on your skin.

Bang Chan comes in and sits down on the bed beside you. He smiles and grabs his own slack dick with one hand and strokes your raised leg with the other. You smile at each other while Hyunjin fucks you harder, both fully aware that the man is about to come.

“Mm, mm,” you moan to edge him on, and maybe to tease Chan too. You close your eyes and pant loudly at the ceiling. “Ahh, ahh, ahh!”

Hyunjin’s body stiffens. His ass moves even faster when Bang Chan's hand touches it. He suddenly holds his breath and you squeeze his body tight, until he reaches his climax and release.

“Mm, Mm, Mm, MMMMPFHH!” he groans into your neck. “MM, MMMMM!”

His body jolts and slams against your pelvis. The dick throbs inside you. You open your eyes and smile as it fills you up with cum.

“Ahhh, Ahhhh, Ahhhhhhhh,” he exhales deeply while catching his breath. Bang Chan strokes your leg again and you smile when your eyes meet.

“Ahhhh,” Hyunjin exclaims one last time. Then his muscles relax and he finally lifts his head.

“Sorry,” he says. “I haven't seen him either.”

“Okay,” Bang Chan says and stands up. “Thanks.”

He's rock hard by now, still holding his erection between his fingers, when he turns away from you, walks out, and closes the door behind him.

*****

Felix kicks with his leg when he's about to come. It abruptly wakes up the girl under the blanket by his feet.

She spots her best friend with his dick in her mouth which makes her smile. Felix opens his eyes and glances down at her when she takes his foot and puts her lips on it. She smiles seductively at him and sticks out her tongue, licking and wetting his toes before sucking them.

Felix is so mesmerized by what she's doing to him that he almost forgets about the girl blowing his dick entirely. But the dick doesn't, and it suddenly reaches the high that was already so close.

“Ahh, fuck!” he exclaims when he's brought over the edge. One girl is sucking his big toe harder while the other is holding his shaft by the root and bobbing her head faster. “Ah, yeah, fuuuuuck!”

Felix groans in his deepest, manliest voice which turns the girls on. They glance at each other, lust and desire in their eyes, when Felix erupts and shoots his load into the mouth.

The girl twitches when his warm sperm hits her gum. Her friend stops licking the foot and smiles at them both, fully aware of what just happened. Then Felix chuckles which makes the girls giggle, and all three of them touch and caress each other as they digest what they've just experienced.

The dick falls out of the mouth once it's empty. The girl lies back down on his arm and they kiss. The one at the other end turns on her back and pulls Felix's leg closer, letting it rest on her breast while they all relax.

“You're amazing babe,” Felix whispers and smiles wide. He feels lucky to have such a promiscuous girlfriend.

The dick is still half hard when Lee Know returns to the living room, wearing a t-shirt and shorts.

“Having fun?” he asks when he sees the threesome on the couch.

“Yeah,” Felix says and grins. “How you feeling?”

“Surprisingly good,” Lee Know says while rushing through the living room. Felix winks at him, knowing very well that the man has a girl in his bed and that they've just finished having sex, probably the reason for Lee Know's great mood despite the hangover they're all going through this morning.

Lee Know is headed for Jeongin's room. “Oops, sorry,” Bang Chan says when the two bump into each other.

“Wow,” Lee Know exclaims when he sees the hard dick between Chan's legs. He laughs and playfully adds: “Keep that thing away from me.”

Bang Chan chuckles. He peeks inside the room of Jeongin and Changbin when Lee Know enters it. The two boyfriends are lovingly spooning each other, Changbin's broad chest and shoulder tightly wrapped in Jeongin's arms.

“Don't mind me,” Lee Know says when he barges in. The boyfriends smile and observe him while he picks up both his own and his girlfriend's clothes from the floor. “Just came for these.”

“Have you seen Han?” Bang Chan asks when Lee Know comes back out.

“Bathroom,” Lee Know quickly responds without stopping.

“Thanks,” Bang Chan says, and Lee Know returns to his room and shuts the door.

“Need a hand with that?” Changbin asks just as Bang Chan is about to turn away.

“Are you offering?” Chan asks and lingers in the door.

“Yeah,” Jeongin says and half way sits up.

Bang Chan hesitates for a moment. Unlike some of the others he wasn't in the boyfriends’ room last night, at least not that he can recall.

What the heck? he thinks to himself and smiles. Then he steps inside the room and closes the door behind him, while Jeongin and Changbin excitedly sit up on their bed.

*****

Han wakes up with a sudden jolt. He's completely disoriented and totally confused. He instinctively grabs on to a plastic curtain by his side and pulls hard on it, causing a metal rod to come loose and fall down.

It hits him hard in the head. “Fuck,” he complains to himself and angrily throws the curtain aside.

Where am I? I'm naked. Is this the sink?

“You okay in there?” a voice calls from outside. Bang Chan knocks on the door but doesn't wait for a response before he opens it.

He bursts out laughing when he sees Han naked in the bathtub, the metal rod in his hand and the curtain on the floor.

“Yeah,” Han grunts. “What happened last night?”

“Fuck if I know. I was gonna ask you the same thing.”

Han looks at Chan's naked body and slack, newly emptied dick. He scratches his head while thinking hard. “Did we…?”

“I think so.”

“Hyunjin's girlfriend.”

“Yeeeah,” Bang Chan says slowly and giggles.

Han finally bursts out laughing too while he tries but fails to sit up straight in the tub.

“I think we need to confiscate Seungmin's phone,” Bang Chan jokes.

“Why?” Han asks. “Oh wait… Oh my God!”

The two naked men burst out laughing. They can hardly control themselves when Felix comes in to join them.

“I need to pee,” he announces and walks straight to the toilet. His nude body sways from side to side when he tries to aim for the bowl and liquid starts flowing.

Changbin suddenly appears too. “Hey,” he says. He's fully dressed and seems exceptionally happy. “What a night huh?”

“Yeah,” Felix says without turning his head.

“What's with the crowd?” Hyunjin asks when he too comes to join. You follow close behind in nothing but your panties, and he puts an arm around you while you look around at all the people in the small space.

“Hey,” Felix's girlfriend says when she comes up behind you.

“Hey,” you exclaim and smile wide when you turn around, then quickly give her a naked hug.

“Join us,” Bang Chan says cheerfully in response to Hyunjin's question.

“Help me up,” Han requests and holds up a hand.

“How you feeling?” you ask and look at your friend when you pull away from her. “You look awful.”

She doesn't respond. Her attention is suddenly on Bang Chan and Han who struggle to get the latter out of the tub.

“Hey, guys!” Felix says loudly to the gathering behind him. “I'm trying to pee here.”

The mood is already great and everyone suddenly laughing loudly. Even Jeongin and Seungmin who are still in their beds chuckle to themselves as they listen to all the commotion.

“Well hurry up, there's a queue,” Hyunjin says and everyone laughs again. You look at his face with love in your eyes and he turns to give you a kiss.

The foot sucker appears behind her bestie and the two embrace. Bang Chan and Han finally succeed. Felix is eventually done and Hyunjin let's you go first like the gentleman he is. The girls behind you keep talking and remembering, and Jeongin can't stop smiling wide to himself.

Meanwhile Seungmin in his room quickly selects a couple of videos and uploads them to the cloud. He'll save them for later, worried that Chan wasn't completely joking about confiscating his phone, and that the hilarious and explosive content might be lost forever if anyone got hold of it.

And Lee Know, he hasn't noticed at all what is going on in the rest of the apartment. He's already balls deep in his girlfriend again, fucking for the fourth time since the party ended and they went to bed.

“Flush after me,” you say when you get up from the toilet, naked and happy. No one but Hyunjin pays any attention to you while you pull your panties back up.

“Sure,” he says and gives you a kiss in passing, before he finally gets to position his dick above the bowl and relieve himself, like he wanted to do when he first got up and brought you the glass of water.

“Oh, by the way,” you say and turn to face him. “I know where your clothes are.”

“Where?” Hyunjin asks and turns his head, while leaning with a hand against the wall over the toilet.

You can't help but smile. “Look out the window in your room again.”

Hyunjin twists his neck to try to glare at you which makes him miss. “What did you do?” he asks and sounds serious, but he can't hide his joy.

“It wasn't me,” you say and walk away through the crowd and chatter.

Hyunjin shakes his head and dick and gives the wall a push. He can't stop grinning from ear to ear as he accepts not only the loss of last night's game, but by the sounds of it his clothes too.

Who's idea was it to play cards anyway? He can't remember, but it doesn't matter. All that matters is that it was a hell of a party, and that you'll all be talking about it fondly for years to come.

You stop in the hallway and listen. “YES! YES! YES! YES! Fuck me harder babe! HARDER!”

“Ahh, ahhh, AHHHHH!” Lee Know screams.

Everyone in the bathroom behind you stops talking. Han and Bang Chan look at each other, as do the two girls. Then you all start laughing again, so hard your bellies hurt.

It was a hell of a party indeed.

[pynkhues]

https://www.tumblr.com/pynkhues/763021215378079744/httpswwwtumblrcomnalyra-dreaming762934616351

I love how you mention in your tags here that Lestat is somewhat powerless in s2- or how he is used in the narrative and how different characters use him against each other. Sometimes it feels like Lestat is almost being objectified, if that’s the right word, or maybe things are projected on to him because he’s desirable and has such intense charisma. I do feel like loss of autonomy is such a big theme for him, especially in TVL but also QoTD and beyond, and I’m very interested to see how the show presents that and how seriously they take it (I expect very tbh). It’s pretty unique for a male character to go through some of the things he’s gone through, so I do sort of see the comparison to some gothic heroine characters for that reason, though I think ultimately he goes far outside that as a vampire.

(x)

Oh, he's absolutely objectified in s2, anon. Mm, so there's kind of two things happening, right? On the one hand, you've got Louis genuinely trying to tell this story authentically as he experienced it, but there is also this reality that Lestat has no genuine voice in it beyond a few tokens of love that Louis' held onto - a calling card, a record, a letter. Hell, even Claudia has more than that with her diaries, and so from the get-go we're seeing an impression of Lestat, but what the show does really well is that it lets different intent come into play in the second season.

Louis' retelling of Lestat in the modern timeline is one thing, but he has two alternate retellings, right? One is the goading, provocative, mean one that he tells Daniel in 1973, and the other is Dreamstat who is neither ghost nor memory, but rather a fantasy Louis can control. While it feels like he just pops up, we know a part of Louis does it intentionally because he lets him go intentionally. I've said it a few times, but it's his desire from the s1 finale wrought true - he wanted Lestat dead and he wanted him all to himself, and now he has both. This is a Lestat that he can seek comfort from, that can tell him what he wants to hear, and! Pointedly! Devastatingly! Fuck and kill again! It's not all sweetness for Louis, he wants to project Lestat's image onto other men - a process that's dehumanising not just for the men Louis fucks and kills, but for Lestat too.

At least Louis' is understandable if not justifiable as a trauma response, but Armand has a lot of intent in how he chooses to recount his time with Lestat in Paris, something I think the show does pretty pointedly by including Nicki but having Armand drop Gabrielle. The fact that he and Lestat only almost have sex in the books before Lestat's badly triggered with memories of Magnus, which I talked about a bit here, feels too relevant to the themes the show's exploring for them to change it much? The fact then that Armand would re-write their history so explicitly sexual, even beyond any other edits, definitely lends not only to the literal objectification of Lestat, but feels pretty icky to put it mildly. Again though, he's a fantasy.

But yeah! More to your point, haha, I think s2 did a lot about showing Lestat's perceived power and then deliberately undermining it in a way that both emphasises how much we don't know the real Lestat yet, but as you said, emphasises this throughline with him as not really having a lot of genuine autonomy. Which makes sense! The fact that Rolin wanted the writers to read at least the first four books when starting IWTV I think goes to your point about that, as it really is such a huge part of his arc, like:

IWTV: Voiceless and without a point of view as it's entirely Louis' recounting

TVL: His lack of autonomy in his mortal life then his turning as an abduction and rape allegory, that gets revisited as a trigger point over and over.

QOTD: Akasha abducting him to use him in her plot (and I believe assaulting him too? I'd need to re-read it before I feel I can dive into that tbh).

TTOTBT: Has his physical body literally stolen under misleading terms.

I wrote in my Byronic Hero post that I was going to go into this and then didn't, haha, but this is kind of what I'm talking about with the female gothic vs the male gothic. While rape and physical violation is a huge part of the male gothic subgenre, often being used pretty maliciously as a symbol of corruption and to amplify horror, the violation and desecration of the body is still a really central part of the female gothic too, and it's often explored in different ways.

The female gothic is generally considered to include elements of terror / dread more than horror, and it builds to things like loss of autonomy because it's an experience women know. Lestat's not 'woman-coded' as a character, and he's not a gothic heroine, but he is a protagonist in a female gothic narrative. The result of that is that Anne has included things in his arc that are specifically the most frightening to women, because that's what the female gothic is about, and I think that's what a lot of people get confused in the gothic heroine debates.

Some of Louis' horrors are going to resonate with women. It's not because he's the beaten down housewife, it's because Anne was writing for a female audience, and to build dread and terror for women readers is to utilise things that women specifically understand and find frightening. That's what the female gothic means, and it's why Louis and Lestat are both victim and perpetrator as male protagonists of a female gothic novel series.

[brazenlystrong]

[ PRIZE ] 😋

⋆☀︎. county fair scenarios // @incantat1ons

★ The arcade is like a neon dream, bathed in a haze of pixelated memories and synthetic magic. The air pulses with the cheerful chaos of chiptunes and distant laughter. Shoko has already gotten a prize to her liking, Haibara is eagerly showcasing a keychain to Suguru and Nanami. From the corner of his eye, Satoru spots Utahime, who doesn’t seem to be carrying a prize. Right behind her stands a claw machine. A soft, purplish-pink glow spills from its box, seeping into the air like cotton candy. Inside it is a teddy bear with light, cream fur, a brown nose, and paw pads that is tempting every person who walks past it to try their luck in winning it. Fingerprints are smudged on the glass like ghostly traces of past attempts and near victories.

The lights reflect in the dark lenses of Satoru’s shades, impossible to penetrate through the pitch black exterior, yet adding an entrancing ombré effect. Satoru eyes the prize sitting inside a rainbow pile of confetti, meeting its obsidian gaze, as though it’s looking at him with stitched-on innocence and quiet challenge. Satoru reaches into his pocket, taking out a couple of coins. He should’ve gotten more, but he rarely carries pocket money unless he’s going out to eat. And there’s no way this machine would accept card payments. Best not anyway, someone might get their money drained really fast that way.

Five tries in total. That’s not so bad. Satoru would just have to study the timing and precision of the mechanic. First coin rolls in, sounding like the tolling of a bell, and a voice speaks out with quick instructions. And as the claw descends, the surrounding world becomes a blur, and Satoru’s focused, his fingers controlling the joystick. The first try is always a miss. The second prepares the mind for the right time to grip and pull. In the third try, Satoru manages to lift the plush, but it unfortunately falls off when he redirects the claw to the exit. The fourth try brings the bear to the edge. And now, Satoru has just one more try to pick it up. With the correct maneuver and speed, the prize is secured through the gap where it can be obtained. Gojo’s eyes glint with victory as he picks it up.

“ ’Hime, ” Satoru voices as he moves back and turns to her. “ Take this. ” He hands the bear plush to her without maintaining eye-contact for long. He doesn’t say anything further, nor does he give a reason for gifting the bear to her. It is just something he wanted to do.

[helpinghanikan]

Poison Control (NSFW)

Miguel O'hara x reader

Chapter 1: A warm feeling

Chapter 2: A long month

Chapter 3: Worth the wait

Lyla had to be bribed to give you a head start. Miguel already knew the antivenom would be finished by today or tomorrow. But nothing would happen without Lyla’s greenlight first. So one Prada bag wasn’t much when it came to having the upper hand.

“What’s the point of having the bag if you can’t even hold it?” You asked from the shower.

“It’s about the status, you wouldn’t understand,” Lyla explained, her hologram leaning against the overpriced tote on the counter. “Thank you, by the way, honestly wasn’t expecting you to get the color right.”

Not a lot of thought is put into your clothing for the day. A sundress worn once and forgotten about months ago. Underwear would have been pointless in moments like these.

“Sure thing. But you’ll have to thank Miguel, too. I used his card.” You reply, putting on the final touch of borrowed web shooters. “All right, go ahead and call him in.”

It makes no sense for you to be nervous about sex with Miguel. He’s never hurt you without your consent. You didn’t feel this tight in the stomach the first time you had done it.

That scenario was completely different from this current one. Back then you were just casually dating and never went farther than second base. Then, one night, he was just so casually leaning against the counter.

This was before you lived together. When you were about to head out in the later hours but wanted to get something to eat first.

He was in casual wear, hair wet from a shower, and was laughing at something Peter had said earlier. What else could you have done but pushed forward and kissed him? Holding his shirt so tightly, as if you were scared he might escape.

It just kept going from there. He kissed back and your hands wandered everywhere they could before Miguel could stop you. But he didn’t stop you, his hands were moving just as much.

You don’t need the memory to get yourself turned on. Not when Miguel enters your quarters with that look on his face.

His head is bowed slightly when he sees you standing in the middle of the room. He doesn’t care that it’s a little weird. Nor does he care that your hands are behind your back. He only cares about reaching you as soon as possible with long strides.

“Come here,” He says in a voice saved for when his control is starting to slip.

There’s a debate in the spiderverse about whether natural or artificial webs are superior. Although a personal opinion you would have to give the artificial a better grade. Solely because Hobie was nice enough to both teach you and let you borrow his spare shooters.

The shooters helped but for your plan to really work you needed to be fast. Waiting until he was only a few feet away before bringing your arm around and firing the webs towards him. No offense to your aim but it was just pure luck that you had his wrist and shoulders.

In the end, Miguel was taken to the ground. His shoulders and wrists were pinned to the ground with white webbing. His wider than they were before, staring up at you in both confusion and just a bit of betrayal.

Then he sees your smile and the confusion turns to frustration.

“What the hell?” He asks, straining against the webs that refuse to give.

Now that the hard part was over you could have some fun.

“It’s been just as long for me, Miguel.” You taunt, no better than those speeches the villain of the day tends to give. “And I’m not about to let you have all the fun. I need a little of my own.”

Miguel snarls as you casually straddled his middle.

“So be a good boy, and maybe I’ll be good for you.” You whisper, leaning in so you give him a proper kiss.

It’s a kiss that has been a month in the making. Miguel leaned his head as far forward as he could to try and take every bit of you he could get. You didn’t bother with lipstick but maybe you should have. As then you could have seen the streaks you left from the sloppy makeout.

After the kiss, you look down at him. The both of you working to catch your breath.

“I’m gonna sit on your face, okay?” You say but giving the room so he could say easily say no.

“Absolutely,” he says, hearts in his eyes just from the prospect.

It takes a bit of maneuvering to crawl up his chest. Stradling his face and being gentle in lowering yourself onto him. The heat of his breath boils your entire being before he gets the chance to lick past your lower lips.

The first time you sat on Miguel’s face he stopped you within a few seconds. The entire session was halted so Miguel could lecture you about going too easy on him.

‘I can bench press over five hundred pounds. I’ve taken more hits to the face than a boxer. I can handle you sitting, properly sitting, on my face.’ He had said, pacing the room while you sat naked on the bed.

Supposedly every spider who has had an AFAB partner has had the conversation. If you ask Peter B about it he’ll never shut up about his stupid, perfect, wife and her fear that she’ll crush him.

If it hadn't been so long you would have been more conscious of your weight. Instead, you did as Miguel regularly asked and bared down into his face. Gasping out to the world when his tongue slides through your lips, licking through heat and taste he’s starving weeks for.

Your dress isn’t the fluffiest but does hide Miguel’s head from you. Bringing your skirt up and taking hold of his hair. It creates a moan from him that reverberates through your body, his moving tongue finding your entrance and poking at it.

“Oh, fuck, Miguel.” You say, hips moving without meaning to.

It doesn’t take long for your first orgasm to build. Maybe you should have reconsidered restraining his hands. Usually, when he eats you out, Miguel makes use of his long fingers to help you along. That isn’t to say his tongue isn’t doing a pretty good job, it just sucks to be missing out on something even better.

It’s getting more and more difficult to grind at the pace you were going. Your legs turn to hot jelly and your stomach flips from the rising orgasm. It was only a matter of seconds before you were leaning forward over him. Calling in words that didn’t make any sense but seemed to be the ones absolutely needed.

Miguel continues to devour your pussy as the orgasm starts to taper off. Although it’s been said again and again it’s important to remember how long it’s been since Miguel was between your thighs. This made the orgasm something like a whole body reset, the only thing mattering is the continued work of Miguel’s mouth.

It’s for this reason that you don’t notice Miguel working on his own plan. Only when you hear the snapping of strands does your brain finally click back into reality.

“Fuck,” was all you could think to say, scrambling to get away before the webs gave completely.

Even though you never have a chance to get away, a quick game of chase was still a fun time to be had. Scrambling from the ground to your feet and springing through the living quarters before even verifying that Miguel was escaping.

Your heart pounds as you round a corner into the kitchen. Dropping harder than necessary to the floor to hide behind the island. Crawling on hands and knees to peak around the corner. Your thighs were still slick from the orgasm and spit Miguel had given like a gift.

Miguel moves heavily through your quarters. His suit disappears as he moves past the kitchen doorway. A fuckable monster searching for prey that was almost excited to be caught.

It took a serious conversation before Miguel was willing to play this game of hunt-and-fuck. Although he’d never hurt you he was still nervous about his strength and what could happen if he lets his control slip just a bit.

You didn’t have the same worries that he did. Instead, you wore the marks you gave you like a badge of pride. Bruises on your wrists and ankles, purple knees, and scratches on your thighs were all better than any kind of jewelry. Miguel did the same with the hickies and bite marks you left behind. It was only after a smug remark from Hobie that Miguel wore his uniform neck just a bit higher.

“Lyla! Where is she?!” Miguel yelled from another room.

“Don’t involve in this,” Lyla replied.

Your kitchen has three entry points. Two of which could be seen from your hiding spot behind the counter. So it only makes sense that Miguel would see you from the third.

“Got you,” He snarls in a whisper, a grip on your ankle.

He doesn’t use his entire strength. Giving you the chance to jerk your leg away from him and scramble toward freedom.

Of course, you made it maybe a foot before he had you once more.

This time he grabs your hair. Pulling your head back as he climbs over your body. Smashing his mouth against yours. His teeth clashed against yours in a way that could be considered painful. But it was a distraction from his claws going up your dress and digging into the soft of your hips.

“I’m not going to be gentle,” he warns.

Your face is practically smashed into the unforgiving floor. Your ass is pulled up high in the air, the dress is pushed up your back. With no semblance of decency, Miguel slammed forward with a fast, hard, thrust.

The sound he punched out of you was high-pitched, almost like a cry. Followed by the wet smacking of his hips against your ass again and again. No slow starting rhythm, just a determinant goal of his pleasure.

With so much focus on his own pleasure, you were left to try and get your own. While being fucked across the kitchen floor you risk further degradation by putting your hand to work. Barely able to properly move your hands, let alone find and massage your clit like Miguel was so famous for.

Miguel has taken control of every one of your senses. The internal feeling of his cock reaching deeper than you could reach on your own. The external feeling of his claws digging into your hip, his other hand keeping your head pressed down into the floor.

It smells like your combined sweat and the floor cleaner used for the kitchen. Under the sound of fucking and smacking was the Spanish Miguel recited like a prayer. All the energy used to focus on it all made it almost impossible to open your eyes. Not that there would be anything to really look at.

Your name comes out of his mouth at a different pitch than usual. The only warning you get before he bares down harder than before. Laying over your body until you’re entirely pressed into the floor. His moaning, groaning, mouth is right next to your ear as he cums.

There’s a short time of bliss when he pumps deep within you. It was only because of guaranteed safety that you allowed this to happen. Both of you taking an STD test and having access to proper birth control before ever bringing up the idea of a cream pie.

Feeling the warmth of his cum sliding as he pulls out makes it all worth it.

The primal aggression is completely gone by this point. Replaced by the concerned and loving man you knew Miguel to be. He gently rolls you over to look up at him. His hair is a mess, his face is sweaty, and he’s panting heavily as he looks over your face.

“Are you okay?” He asks, holding your face as he does.

You nod, “I’m good. Fuck, I am so good.”

He returns your smile. Leaning forward and giving you a kiss that was sweater than any desert could ever be.

[lgcdavika]

✧˖*°࿐ the interview about that sunday in the village

davika was confident about the interview. being in front of the camera lost its power to make her nervous, to make her doubt that how she wants to present herself comes through. it always does. it's almost automatic and scary how she has an automatic headspace when the time to do interviews arrive.

davika hasn't quite reconciled the discrepancy between how she wanted to the weekend to be and how it actually went. she hated that, for the first time in a long time, things did not go her way. and worse, she didn't fight it, nor did she made any efforts to steer it to the direction she thought she wanted it to go. she had let things unfold the way they were supposed it, and with it, she allowed herself to be taken by it, like jumping into a coursing river. unsure, out of control. out of her control. it's far too early to be complacent and to fall into the arms of nostalgia. she cannot afford that at this time. and not anytime soon.

and while the turbulent thoughts pounded in her head, the interview had commenced. "tell us about your favorite moment for today." it was a predictable question, part of the many that was in her list. answers were already prepared really, it was only a matter of adjusting delivery to how things unfolded with outside intervention, or which story would get more attention. "my favorite moment was..." the smile on her face wavers for a second, but she instantly moves as if she were thinking hard, crossing her arms, brows knitted as she hummed. as though she were thinking hard because there were so, so many. the forced sarcasm in her head made her cringe. which was odd because... when did she have any internal incongruence before this? it was far too long, or worst, it never happened.

'my favorite part of today was hayoung unnie checking up on me' it was not an easy thing to say, though knowing davika it was supposed to be. it would have opened a conversation, a curious little thought that there may be a connection. it's brilliant! and she didn't even force, it fell on her lap. so why can she not just say it? it was right there. "my favorite moment was... when we sold the homemade products, i think it struck everyone's competitiveness again, you know?" she smiled, not even a hint of insincerity anywhere.

the second question came right away, "and how do you feel about that challenge?" and davika was starting to get annoyed. but she cannot let that show, not even one bit. "i wanted to keep the winning streak, because i was part of the winning team yesterday." she replied with the same warm and friendly smile that she keeps on when the energy to perform winds down. 'i like winning' was more like it, she'd have this interview in the bag if she played the cheeky card. but she just couldn't and it felt like utter betrayal. she had develop a way to deal with the remnants of others' betrayal but not of her own.

"after today's or this weekend's activities, who do you feel closer to?" davika never weighed in on that sans the benefits... this question is as basic as it can get, it was standard and she shouldn't think too hard about it. she knew what to say and how to play it? so why is it so damn difficult to say something now? she wasn't even thinking about playing safe, she had cards prepared. she had plans like it was some kind of simulation. why be... sentimental now? "i think i got closer to other trainees who aren't really part of my circle of friends?" she starts, nodding her head as she finds a spot to on the floor to stare at, acting as if she were pondering over some kind of shared core memory. this would have been such a solid, screen time worthy performance if she could concentrate properly. "i made more friends this weekend, and that's one of the best things i got here".

davika finished the interview with flying colors, of course. not clueless, but not an expert either. when she finished her turn and left with her thoughts, she felt even more frustrated with herself. like she had dropped the ball when the universe was conspiring in her favor this time around. she choked. and that has never, ever happened before. why did she let that happen? because of a weekend when she felt like she belonged? a weekend when she felt like everything goes her way like the planets were aligning? she knows better than to trust feelings and how life goes.

[bleue-flora]

I mean to be fair just because not everything Dream did had ill intent does not mean that it isn’t used to manipulate. And the Daedalus arc is very multi faceted. So yes, there is a prominent piece of raw uncalculated emotion for Dream, but that doesn’t necessarily mean there also isn’t manipulation involved. I think sometimes we consider manipulation, (especially in the context of the dsmp and Dream as a character) to be inherently malicious and evil. We tend is to have a negative opinion of manipulation in itself, but I don’t think manipulation by default is a bad thing. According to Google one of the definitions for manipulate is: “control or influence (a person or situation) cleverly, unfairly, or unscrupulously.” Notice the ‘or’ making a version simply to ‘influence a person cleverly.’ That does not necessarily imply a vicious motive. In fact, you’ve probably manipulated before and didn’t realize. Like acting better while dating then marriage or dressing up a certain way for an interview these are methods of cleverly influencing people for a reason. It’s not lying but also not truly honest and yet it’s a part of society. Another example is like complimenting or asking how someone’s day is just so you can ultimately ask them for something. And that doesn’t mean that you don’t mean the compliments or didn’t want to talk to them, or that you really don’t care about them and only want to use them, it just isn’t you larger motive. Personally I do it all the time, because sometimes you don’t want to outright just say what you need. You need to influence the results indirectly to be more productive. Maybe you need to convince the other person that they want what you want or just want to be less rude. Sometimes you may know what the other person wants or is planning and can use manipulation to help them secretly achieve.

For example, one year my grandfather left the birthday card he got me at home and promptly forgot about it. My memory doesn’t really let me forget most things so when I saw him next I knew I should remind him. After all he put forth the effort to do it and I know he was disappointed he forgot and wanted to see my reaction to the funny card he picked (this is not an assumption btw he looked adamantly upset at the birthday dinner that he left it at home). But yea I also wanted to see and read my card, right? So inherently, asking or reminding him of it seems kinda rude or comes across like some selfish and greedy child, which wasn’t how I wanted to come across because like I said he also was sad I didn’t get to read it. So during our conversation at some point I referenced something I got for my birthday in a story and he was all like - oh yea that reminds me I forgot to give you this. He came to it on his own, I just had to prompt the subject a little. So yes I technically used manipulation tactics, but I don’t think that is inherently malicious.

That’s not to say manipulation cannot be used for more malevolent intentions, but it in itself is not, nor does it require abuse, lying or cruelty. I think it’s fair to say that you can use the truth to manipulate someone. Not to mention that lying does often contain partial truths anyways (well if you’re good at it ;). )

In daedalus, in my opinion there is some manipulation going by Dream, but there is also some genuine feelings going on as well. For me (I think I’ve talked about before) there is a change in Dream from the first initial response to Sam’s imprisonment to the next stream (therapy type session). Initially he is all about revenge, making Sam feel bad, rubbing in the karma and punishing Sam and Quackity. He used a lot of threats and thinks through ideas on how to make them suffer and I think the surprise and joy overcame him emotionally here. In the second stream though, his conversation was more tactical, he realized he needed Sam’s access to the prison. So he changed his approach and following actions. Instead of murder, torture and imprisonment for a year, he would get Sam to open the prison so he can use it to achieve his overall plans. This switch is intentional, if he simply wanted to talk about how he felt then there are other ways he could have done that.

Having said that, he was definitely dual tasking because if he can convince Sam that he was wrong in torturing anyone and treating people like Sam did, then it would both be some semblance of satisfaction and help him in his goal to bring Sam off his high horse down to equal levels so Sam’s more willing to help. In his conversations he switches between truth and half truths as well as tactful and emotional with him having the attitude that he’s fine but also deeply hurt. So yes, his emotions were certainly at play and while he does hide them behind other motives and goals that doesn’t mean that those goals weren’t also true. He’s multitasking, using his feelings to achieve an agenda as protection. And this is a tendency with him, his monologues do tend to show truths just not the whole picture.

And part of that frustration and hurt is the simple fact that torture as a form of interrogation tends to be a very ineffective method. More than anything at this point it’s mostly used as cruelty and punishment then to gain intel. Which is part of Dream’s point - you weren’t doing it for the book, you did it because you enjoyed punishing me. To drive his point home, he uses his manipulation to further prove that he didn’t have to lay a hand on Sam for him to get what he wanted. In other words, the torture was ineffective, pointless, bound to fail, and cruel for the sake of it and using a book as part of the intial motivation does not erase those facts.

Here’s how I think some of Dream’s actions were used to manipulate Sam. (Well firstly, again I’d say that you mostly have to ignore the first day, because I think Dream was not yet in his plan to get the book because he didn’t know he needed it.) But by feeding Sam he is creating dependency, he is not playing into what Sam thinks of him as the evil villain, and he’s proving his point. He does all this by giving food which is a generous thing to do since he didn’t even put him there to starve in the first place. One of the other things he does is leave for one day, which furthers that dependency, his point, and his satisfying karma. Dream also plays counselor to Sam, which both highlights the truth (in Sam’s own opinion) attempting to answer Dream’s deep question of - Why? What is wrong with you that said this made sense?…etc - but also allows Dream the opportunity to point out the flaws and bullshit of his mindset. But while this is somewhat cathartic for Dream, it is still part of his manipulation ploy. Notice how he lies about not having tested out the book before killing Tommy and using that to justify his actions. But he also offer’s information he didn’t have to. So yea, he lies and he abandons but he also tells the truth and brings food, good food all in part to convince Sam that he isn’t the ‘big bad’ Sam thinks he is. He does this to change Sam’s view of him in order to partly bring Sam down to his level of “badness” so they are on equal footing, which creates an opportunity for ally ship and unity against a “Greater Evil.” He’s trying to convince Sam that he doesn’t have ill intentions for the prison besides making it his home and as a fail safe against true evil otherwise Sam’s morals would have a hard time giving Dream the key card. - I fed you, I didn’t harm you, I kept you company, I listened to you, this is what you could have done. Am I not a good warden?… etc -

Anyways, lots of things are going on in daedalus for sure, but I’d say there is manipulation going here in more angles then one. Dream doesn’t just bring a cake to someone who tortured and had him tortured for nearly a year just to prove a point. There are far less extreme ways highlight the injustice of his treatment. Hell, giving him steak was enough he didn’t have to give him golden applies and cake, he didn’t have to agree with Sam nor share a less than honest part of his side. But he did because he needed Sam to trust him, to give him access to the prison.

And the reason I write however long this is, is because for me his manipulation of Sam to lead him to give up the book is part of what makes daedalus so cool because here is a parallel situation. A man imprisoned to avoid death with a powerful book that the other wants. But while it’d be perfectly reasonable to expect Dream to give Sam exactly what he faced, he didn’t. He gave all the things he didn’t get, didn’t have and he got the book he wanted in a matter of days without really laying a finger on him. Dream: *drops mic* and that’s how you get a damn book from someone. ;)

the idea that c!dream was somehow manipulating c!sam in the daedalus arc is wild. i mean, he was definitely trying to get sam to see things from his perspective but i wouldn't consider that any form of manipulation. giving him cake and steak and talking about how dream felt isn't manipulation.

[call-sign-shark]

FROM HELL || A TOP GUN!SECRET AGENTS AU

Previous part || Next Part

Pairing: Pete Mitchell x Villain!reader [no Y/N, callsign Hell] // Jake Seresin x Villain!Reader // Dagger Squad x Villain!Reader (platonic)

Words: 2.4k

tags: Unresolved sexual tension (like really sexual), prison, mental illness, cursing, mention of murder, and physical aggression

Summary: The U.S. Department of Defense hired Captain Pete “Maverick” Mitchell and his young aviators to form the DAGGERS: a squad of deadly secret agents. One day, they are called for a special mission: a crimelord called Wolfman stole the plans of a new generation of nuclear weapons. Unfortunately, no one ever managed to catch this sadistic criminal. Their only hope lies in a former assassin Captain Mitchell threw in jail years ago. Who is that girl? No one knows her identity or her past.  All they know is that she worked for Wolfman and is a fearful and remorseless killer. Some called her Death. Others called her Fate. But most people call her Hellhound. 

Theme song: All the Good Girls Go to Hell - Billie Eilish

Notes: This is a +18 story. It contains extreme violence, mention of torture, dark themes, and sexual scenes. MINORS DNI! // Admittedly Hell is more OC than reader, but let's say it's your psychotic counterpart ;)

•─────⋅♢ ♢⋅─────•

Chapter 1 || Good Girls Go to Hell

“Okay squad, friendly reminders for the new guys here! Rule one, don’t go near the bars. Rule two, don’t talk to her. And rule three, if she moves fire her up. Got it?” 

The guard’s bossy tone echoed in the prison’s long sinister hallway. Maverick furrowed his brows as he attentively listened to Captain Thomson enumerating the safety rules to his troops. So many safety measures for only one creature… Wasn't that a bit of an exaggeration?  Of course, she was dangerous, the deep scar on his sides was a living proof of the girl’s madness. Yet, he could not help but find the whole protocol far too scaremongering. 

“AYE SIR.”  

The squad yelled in unison.

“Let’s not exaggerate the matter.” Words left Maverick’s mouth before he could hold them. He only noticed the sarcasm in his voice when it was already too late . At this interjection, Captain Thomson turned around and glared at him. Someday, Maverick’s big mouth would get him in trouble.

“Listen up, Mav. She put three of my guys in hospitals. The first one she ripped his throat with her bare teeth. The second, she broke both of his arms. And the third she knocked his teeth out. So, I don’t think I’m exaggerating the matter.” 

Thomson’s words felt like a cold shower. The bloodcurdling facts he had just spat brought him back to the chilling reality. Maverick had managed to calm down ten minutes ago by telling himself that his irrational fear probably came from his blurry memories. Besides, he had certainly demonized the girl as time passed, his brain still trying to process the trauma. After all, crashing a plane is far different from someone trying to murder you by stabbing your sides several times. Yet, Thomson’s revelations only rubbed it in. Maverick was taken aback. He stood still for a moment, lips half-opened in surprise. Then, he simply nodded before withdrawing into silence to try to regain composure.

Captain Thomson proceeded to unlock all the door’s necessary safety mechanisms. Magnetic card, retinal control, and security control - no one could enter nor exit the cell without authorization. When the door opened, a loud siren rang out for a fraction of a second. The squad stormed inside the gigantic room, their combat boots hammering the ground with a military pace. They circled the large steel cage in the center of the room. Maverick’s emerald eyes observed the room, analyzing the smallest details: all around him were four gargantuan concrete walls, whose height was so impressive that he couldn't even make out the ceiling. Even though the cell had windows,  they were placed so high on these walls that they were simply out of reach.

“What the fuck.” He whispered to himself as his eyes fell on the steel cage.

When she arrived at Blackwood maximum-security Prison, the Government had seen fit to build a giant forged steel cage and place it in the center of a huge reinforced concrete room.  Thanks to this custom-made cell, the guards could watch the inmate at any time and avoid any attempt of aggression and/or suicide. Besides, such a room drastically minimized the risk of her escaping. Thomson had used the word “cell”, but for Maverick it was nothing more than a horrible control box. He snorted with scorn at the sight of the electrical panel, placed further away in the cell. They even electrified the bars of the cage thanks to a remote mechanism.

“On the ground and raise your hands,” screamed the Captain. You crunched your abs to grab the upper bars with your hands, breaking free of your sleeping bat position. You hung from the upper bars a moment, staring at the captain with a shark-like smile. A sordid chuckle escaped from your chapped lips. Thomson was always acting so extra! You let the metallic bars go and fell nimbly on your feet. Thomson was watching your every move, the barrel of his rifle aimed straight at you. 

“Yeah that’s it hot mess, keep calm,”  Thomson said, in the same way that he would talk to a rabid beast that was on the verge of biting him.  Maverick came closer and tilted his head to the side, curious to re-discover the dangerous creature who was held captive in this cage.

His heartbeat stopped.

You were there.

Right in the middle of the cage stood a young woman, in her mid-twenties.  She had a long platinum-blonde mane that cascaded down to her loins. A messy mane that marvelously hugged the hourglass shape of her body. She was wearing an orange inmate overall and a plain black bandeau top to cover her little breasts. She had opened her overall to the hips and knotted the sleeves around her waist for the temperature in her cell was quite hot. The drops of sweat on her skin made her glimmer in the dim orange light coming from the windows above.

Maverick shook her head: you could not be the maleficent demon he had feared for years. You could not be that psychotic killer who had stabbed him in Serbia. He swallowed, staring at your juvenile face: you were so young. So… Petite. 

His head started spinning, not able to cope with the overwhelming vision. He took a deep break, broke free from his lethargy, and walked closer to the cage. The urge had been stronger than him.

“Careful, Captain Mitchell! You’re too close.” 

Capitaine Mitchell.

Blood rushed to your temples as the name echoed in your shattered mind. 

PeteMitchellPeteMitchellPeteMitchellPete…

The memories of your last encounter flashed in your mind with such powerful violence that you brought your hands on both sides of your head, feeling like it was about to explode. Years. You had spent years replaying over and over again all the morbid events that had led you to this cage. Like a broken record, your sick brain kept thinking about him. You had etched every little detail of his face in your mind, the way his smile lit up his features, and the way his crow's feet appeared whenever he squinted. Pete Mitchell haunted you, like a ghost from the past. He, the man who had locked you in that fucking  place. He, the man who had betrayed you.

You turned your head towards him.

Maverick froze as your bright pink eyes fell on him. He had been hypnotized by your dolly face and your adorable teenage pout for a while, but as soon as he noticed the glint of madness that sparkled in your vibrant eyes, he remembered what you really were: a heartless monster. 

The sunrays, beaming from the high windows, warmed your skin - or maybe was it Maverick? 

“Oh, Maaaaav~” 

Your voice echoed in the dull room, rising in the air like the mesmerizing mermaid’s song.  The smile that had been engraved on your face since the guards’ arrival stretched even more, adorning itself with a happy facade that was too overacted to be sincere. You hopped playfully to the edge of the cage to get as close as possible to the man, like a little bunny. Then, you grabbed the steel bars in your hand and pressed your face between the two of them. 

A shiver ran down Maverick’s spine: you were even more captivating when seen from that close. 

“Are you real? Is it another hallucination?” You asked with a bit of hesitation in your tone. Sometimes it was hard for you to distinguish reality from psychosis. 

“I am real.” He managed to utter, fascinated.

“I’ve missed you so much!” You cooed. 

Your words were candy-coated with a disconcerting mushiness. So much that the guards looked at each other, confused. In fact, they did not get why you were talking to Captain Mitchell as an enamored teenager would talk to her boyfriend. Thomson shrugged: he had stopped trying to understand your madness at this point. You were batshit crazy, period.

Another shiver went through Maverick’s body, but this time the feeling was unpleasant. His legs were slightly shaking as if his whole being was urging him to run away from the impending threat you were. Pete gathered all his willpower to pull himself together. The enraptured expression he had while looking at you turned to stone. 

“Enough with that, Hell.” 

“Since when do you call me Hell? I thought I was your Bunny?” You teased.

Maverick ignored what you just said.

“I’ll be straightforward. We need your help to arrest Wolfman. We know you worked for him. So you’re going to work with us.”

You burst into laughter. Your psychotic hilarity reminded him of hyenas. 

Because they laugh when they are hungry. And when they’re about to kill their prey.  

“This is your only chance to avoid getting roasted on the electric chair.”  His voice sounded harsh and cold. Maverick was trying hard not to show how unsettling you were to him.

You whined like a child, staring at him with almost begging eyes.

“Don’t be so cold with me, I hate that! That’s not a proper way to welcome an old friend, you rude man. Why don’t you come in and take me in your arms? Feel my body against yours? Why don’t you whisper in my ear how you missed me?” 

Another mood swing: you chuckled, amused.

Maverick dug his nails in the palm of his hands: he felt as fragile as a house of cards in the midst of a raging wind. Yet, in spite of the fear you instilled in him, the Captain could not help but be attracted to you. Your unhinged aura fascinated him. Your full lips enticed him. Your small body and your doll face aroused him. And more than that, your madness triggered a delicious adrenaline rush in his veins.

He found himself wondering how you had the strength to overpower him with the small hands of yours. You had some fucking impressive combat skills.

“Feel my body against yours.” He repeated, absent-mindedly. His eyes wandered on your perky nipples, which pointed under the fine fabric of your black bandeau top.

“Is that what you want?” He asked, stepping closer to the cage in front of the guards’ aghast faces.

“Maybe?” You pout, “Come in. And I’ll show you how happy I am to see you.” Your voice merely a whisper, you licked your lips as you stared at him with provocation.

Maverick’s jaws tensed. A delicious mix of fear and arousal surged through his body. He stepped a little bit closer, close enough for you to smell the masculine fragrance of his perfume but far enough for being out of your reach. He stared at you curiously with his emerald eyes and grinned.

“Last time I hold you in my arms you tried to kill me, don’t think I’m dumb enough to be fooled twice,” He raised an eyebrow “The Government made you an offer: you help us and avoid your death penalty, or you don’t and the next time we’ll see each other you’ll be buried six feet under.”

Your enamored teenage pout disappeared in the blink of an eye, now all your traits were twisted in a hellish fury. You tried to grab Maverick by the throat in a brutal movement, putting your arms through the cage’s bars, but you could not reach him. Your fingertips barely brushed him. At this sudden fit of violence, almost all the guards had jumped - except Maverick, who had remained unmoved, staring at you with a tiny smile on his lips. He had managed to regain control of the situation.

“BACK OFF, CRAZY BITCH.” Captain Thomson yelled, making a sudden move with his riffle to threaten you.

The clanking of weapons echoed in the room. The guards weren't kidding: they were ready to open fire on you.

You stepped back from the bars, hands above your head. Even though anger was still burning deep inside your bright pink eyes, you could not help but burst out laughing as if Captain Thomson had just told the funniest joke you had ever heard.

“Okay okay, look I’m quiet! I’m a good girl!”  You wiggled your fingers to remind the guards you still had your hands up.

Thomson sighed heavily.

“With all due respect, Captain Mitchell, this is a fucking bad idea. See? She’s bonkers.”

“I know,” He answered, unable to look away from your little figure. The truth was  that you were tearing him apart with a horde of contradictory feelings, “But we have no other options.” His smile had disappeared in favor of a stern facial expression.

“I’m not going to lie, Hell. You will never get out of here. But here’s a chance to spend the rest of your life with all the comfort you need. I’ll make sure to make  your stay here a little more enjoyable. Wanna watch a movie? I’ll bring you the tv. Want a comfy bed? Alright. Want to listen to music? Be my guest. All you have to do is come with me, help my team to find your former boss, and be a good girl.” 

Your heartbeat was pounding in your temples. Even though you carefully listened to him, you were looking dagger at him. If eyes could kill, Pete Maverick Mitchell would be already dead, lying in a pool of his own blood.

“But if you don’t, you’ll keep waking up every day without knowing if today is your last. Until, one day, they fry your brain.” He went on, his voice calmer than ever.

You bit your lip, unable to find another way to relieve the tension in your body. You bit it so hard that you tasted blood on your tongue.

“So, what do you choose?” 

The game was already lost. Either way, you would stay locked up and eventually die in that cage. The only difference was the conditions of your stay. The first answer that bloomed in your mind was to spit at Maverick’s face and tell him to go fuck himself with a chainsaw. Nevertheless, you forced your shattered brain to focus on what he just said: if you agreed to help him, you will temporarily get out of there. You would be allowed to enjoy a semi-freedom for the first time in years.  Why would you not accept? On the one hand, you will be able to find a way to get back at Pete Mitchell for what he had done to you. On the other hand,  maybe you'll find a way to escape permanently. 

After weighing the pros and cons, you dropped your hands down your hips and offered a big smile to the guards, as well as to Maverick.

“Fine, Mitchell. I’m in.” 

Maverick took a deep breath.

“Fine.” 

•─────⋅♢ ♢⋅─────•

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned" William Congreve

[mandobatemans]

Do you write for William Tell (The Card Counter)? I’d like to leave for you an idea here, if you’re not comfortable with it feel free to delete this ask! So… we know William is punishing himself for what has been done… would it be better for him to give the control to his partner? She could roleplay some d/s with him, he could be her sub for short sessions maybe? No hardcore stuff, just a little bit of verbal and corporeal punishing; light slapping or smth.

William Tell x f!Reader

rating: 18+ only

warnings: dom!reader, sub!william, unprotected sex, biting, slight orgasm denial, restraints, blindfold, allusions to prison & trauma, sex is not a replacement for therapy

word count: 1,764

also posted on ao3

William had already finished his routine for the motel room: taking down the cheap paintings, unplugging the phone and alarm clock, and wrapping every piece of furniture in white cloth. He was meticulous as he worked; it was understandable, knowing his history. He would never share everything from the army days with you, nor every little detail of what he had done, but you knew at least the basics from the time you'd been together. William opened up eventually, albeit slowly, little by little. Before bed, when he got absorbed in his thoughts, he'd occasionally share a memory with you. In the beginning, it seemed like he was doing it to drive you away, as if he felt he wasn't good enough for you and if he gave you enough fragments, you’d put the picture together and walk away. 

You liked to watch him when he sat at the motel room’s desk, writing in his notebook while he thought you were asleep. The way the outline of his shoulders looked, bathed in the strange light of the covered lamp set on the floor, was oddly comforting. 

One such night, he finished his entry, closing the book and setting the pen atop it. Carefully, he turned off the lamp and joined you in bed. 

“William?” You asked, softly. 

He didn’t seem surprised that you were still awake, answering with a “Hmm?”

“What were you writing about?”

For a moment, you thought he had fallen asleep. He didn’t respond right away, and his breathing slowed. You were about to tell him to forget it and get some rest when he responded. “Interrogations.”

You rolled onto your side to look at him, gently lifting your hand to run your fingers through his hair. “I'm sorry.” He never told you what it was for, but you had gleaned that the journal was for documenting his past, some physical way to try to absolve himself of past sins. 

He let you take his hand in your free one, quiet as you rubbed your thumb over the back of it. It was silent for a minute, William no doubt punishing himself in his head. 

“Honey?”

He didn’t answer, but you could see him adjust his head on the pillow to face you by the light peeking through the threadbare curtains.

“Can I help? I mean, I know writing helps you, but would it help if…” You trailed off, careful with how you worded your idea. “When we have sex and you're in control…would you be a little softer on yourself if maybe I was in control for once?” 

William seemed to mull it over, his hand warm in yours. He squeezed your hand, sitting up in bed and turning on the light he had covered next to his side of the bed. “Go get my bag.”

“Hey! I’m supposed to be giving the orders here.”

His mouth turned up in an amused smirk as he put his hands up in defense. “Sorry, sorry. There’s extra rope and a blindfold in there.” 

You pursed your lips. William was right. A blindfold would make things better. Sighing, you got up off the bed and crossed the room to the corner where his duffel bag was sitting. You felt his eyes on you as you crouched down to search the bag. You found the rope easily and took a few more seconds for the blindfold. “This?” You asked, lifting a long strip of black fabric for him to see. 

He confirmed with a nod and you rejoined him in the bed, trying to hide how eager you were for a turn in control. You tied the rope the way you had seen him do before and fastened it to the headboard, then securing his wrists. “Good?”

“Very.” 

You shifted so you were straddling him, fidgeting with the blindfold in your hands. “If it gets to be too much–”

“I’ll tell you. Color system?”

You nodded in response. He leaned his head forward, inviting you to knot the blindfold around his head. 

“Good job, honey. You should do this more often.”

The compliment made you smile to yourself. You slipped your panties off, throwing them somewhere away from the bed. Positioning your fingers at the waistband of his briefs, you paused. “Color?”

“Green,” he replied, encouraging you to help him shimmy out of the underwear, disposing them to wherever yours had landed. 

Repositioning yourself so you were once again sitting on his thighs, you pressed your palms to his stomach to steady yourself. As slow as you could manage, you sunk yourself just slightly onto his cock, only letting the head past your folds. William groaned, bucking his hips to try to push his full length inside. You tutted, pushing his hips back down and lifting yourself off of him. “No, baby. I set the pace, remember?” 

A smile formed on his lips as he replied, “Yes, ma’am.”

Inching yourself back onto his length, you replied with a “Good boy”, feeling his dick twitch as the words came out of your mouth. 

You lowered your hips even slower than before, exaggerating every centimeter of descent. Eventually, you were fully seated on him, hands still braced against his stomach. 

William was the standard of self-control. His combined years as a soldier and later as a prisoner culminated in extreme willpower. If he didn't have you, he would never give in to any kind of luxury. He was content to live in blank and impersonal motel rooms, following poker tournaments across the coast and eating cheap diner food. If anyone could break his self-control it was you. He wouldn't let anyone else convince him to splurge at the diner on an extra dessert, just to try something new, or allow you to pack a little framed photo of the two of you some passerby had offered to take while you were walking the Atlantic City boardwalk after a tournament. 

His loss of self-control extended to sex with you. Sometimes he liked to tease you, but he couldn't help but want to immediately give you what you wanted, what you deserved. He knew he was supposed to let you be in control, but he couldn't keep sitting still, unmoving, while you were perched on his cock. “Baby. I need you to move.”

You clenched your walls around him, briefly.

William grunted, gritting his teeth. “More than that.” He paused. “Please,” he added, pointedly.

“Good,” you praised, beginning to roll your hips in a quasi-circular motion. You lifted yourself up a bit faster this time, almost letting his dick slip out of you, stopping just before it did. Quickly, you slid back down, smiling at the barely contained sounds he was making. “Let me hear you.” You punctuated your statement with a particularly quick bounce. William gasped, letting himself groan a little louder. 

You kept bouncing, bringing your head down to his level so you could press kisses to his exposed neck. Gently at first, you sucked marks into the crook of his neck, encouraged by the noises he made in response. Experimentally, you bit down at the patch of skin you had been working. The effect was better than what you could have imagined, a murmured “Fuck!” escaping your boyfriend’s lips, coupled with an aggressive buck of his hips off the bed. 

“I wish you could see how good your dick looks inside of me,” you whispered into the shell of his ear. 

“Take the blindfold off, then.”

“No,” you replied, increasing the pace of your hips. You moved to the other side of his neck to leave matching bite marks. You ran your hands up the length of his body, tracing every inch of skin you could get your hands on. Absentmindedly, your fingers traced the outline of the tattoos that you had memorized.

Although you pretended like you didn't, you had learned a bit about poker over the years. From many a night perched on his knee while he explained poker to you, you knew a “tell” betrayed what another player was thinking. William never showed any during games, but you knew him better than the strangers crowded around the table. William’s breath hitched, his tell that he was close to the edge. 

“Not yet,” you scolded. You reached up to free his right hand from the rope, guiding it to your clit. “Together.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He began circling his fingers, effortlessly, a motion he’d done hundreds of times before. You coordinated the motion of your hips with his fingers, slowing down a bit. 

You ripped the blindfold off of him, resting your forehead against his and capturing his lips in an urgent kiss. William snuck his tongue into your mouth, and although you were meant to be in control, you welcomed the intrusion. 

“Okay,” you said into his lips, “You can come.” 

William sighed in relief, spilling into you with a grunt, followed by a stifled groan as you clenched around him from the force of your own orgasm. You rode out your highs, lazily circling your hips as cum seeped down your thighs and onto the sheets. He closed his eyes and rested his head back further into the pillows, chest rising and falling. 

“Let me help you.” Carefully, you released his other wrist from the restraints of the rope, pressing a gentle kiss to the reddened skin. He smiled up at you, a warmth radiating from his eyes that was reserved only for you. 

“You’ve helped me enough, sweetheart.” 

You snuggled into his chest, looking up at him. “Did I? Did it help with…” You gestured vaguely at the desk where his notebook was, unsure how to characterize the complicated burden he felt he bore. 

He kissed the top of your head. “Yeah. Thank you.” William didn’t elaborate any further, but you could tell by the way his muscles had relaxed that, at least for now, his past wasn’t governing his every move. He kissed you again, pulling your form closer to his and rubbing his hands up and down your arms. “You’re good for me.” It wasn’t a question or a statement, but something in between. He said it more to himself than to you, so you responded by leaning up to kiss him. 

You inspected the remaining redness on his wrists. “I'm gonna get some lotion for your wrists, baby.”

“C’mon, we’ll take a shower.” He helped you sit up, lifting you off the bed and ushering you into the bathroom. 

“Fine. Then, I’ll put lotion on your wrists.”

“Whatever you say.” You could’ve sworn you heard him add, “Ma’am.”

tagging: @budcooper @foxilayde @leiakenobi @autumnleaves1991-blog @writefightandflightclub

[hawkeykirsah]

Fill 4  and another bingo for @codywansleepbingo​. Warnings for references to Order 66 in this one.

Prompts used: Restless Sleep, Night Terrors, Sleep Position: Spooning, Sleeping Pill/Medicine

Words: ~720

Ficlet and card under the cut!

The sun beat down on the top of his head as he held out the lightsaber with a crooked grin, “You might be needing this.”

Obi-Wan laughed, eyes crinkling, and reached down from his mount to take his weapon. “You might be right. Let’s clean up and get this war over with, Cody. I’ll see you on the other side!”

He watched the general spur on his varactyl, breathing in the dust in its wake. He put his helmet back on, happy for the air filter keeping any further dust out of his mouth and nose, happy that Grievous was dead and that the fighting would soon be over, happy that he’d soon have the chance of an after-the-war with Obi-Wan.

He answered his com without a second thought, eyes flicking briefly away from the general to the holo of a hooded figure. They spoke, an odd weight in their voice bearing down on him, “Commander Cody, the time has come. Execute Order 66!”

He felt his body turn, heard his voice ordering “Blast him!”, the din of the cannon clamoring in his ears as he watched it impact the rock, sending the varactyl and its rider tumbling into the sinkhole, down, down, down—

#

Cody shot upright, gasping for air, a wordless shout caught in his throat. He could taste the acrid smoke of blaster fire and blasted rock and hot dust, could hear shouts and explosions ringing in his ears. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, feet touching the rug, and tried to control his breathing. There was no glaring sun overhead, no explosions, and Obi-Wan—Obi-Wan was alive and safe and not asleep, Cody realized, looking over his shoulder at his partner.

“Another nightmare?” Obi-Wan asked, voice rough with sleep, pushing himself up.

Cody nodded wordlessly, wanting to tell Obi-Wan he was fine, he should go back to sleep but his tongue felt thick and unwieldy in his mouth. He watched Obi-Wan reach for a jug of water and pour some into one of their earthenware cups, holding it out to Cody.

“Thanks,” Cody mumbled, sipping slowly at the cold water. An arm wrapped around his middle and Obi-Wan rested his chin on his shoulder, his thumb rubbing along the bottom of Cody’s ribs.

“Same one as yesterday?”

“Yeah,” Cody rasped. “I ordered—”

Obi-Wan shushed him quietly, shaking his head. “None of it was your fault, darling. I’m alive, aren’t I?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in challenge. Then he sighed. “I’m alright, Cody. We’re alright.” He glanced out of the window into the dark Tatooine night. “Do you want to get up or try to sleep again?”

Cody grimaced. Dawn was hours away yet. “Let’s try to get more sleep,” he decided, pulling off his sweat-soaked shirt. He balled it up and patted himself dry with it before tossing it in the hamper and lying back down, Obi-Wan pulling him flush against his chest.

“We’re alright,” he whispered, letting himself sink into Obi-Wan’s embrace, staring into the dark until he finally drifted off again.

#

The next night wasn’t much better, nor the night after that.

Some nights were worse than others, Cody knew that. It wasn’t that he generally had trouble sleeping—or Obi-Wan, either, for that matter—but there were times that were harder on both of them, bringing back memories unbidden and causing them restless nights.

And the anniversary of Utapau as well as the week after was difficult for both of them.

“I think,” Obi-Wan said a few evenings later, looking almost as exhausted as he had toward the end of the war, “maybe we should both consider a sleeping aid tonight.” He set a small vial of pills on the table. They didn’t use the sleeping pills often but in this case Cody had to agree. He just wanted to sleep again without waking up in cold sweat and the faint flavor of bile in his mouth.

“Good idea.”

They each took a pill and slid under the heavy blankets. The pills worked fast; Obi-Wan pressed close behind him, his nose buried in Cody’s hair, the arm thrown over Cody’s waist, a comfortable, grounding weight, were the last things he was aware of before sleep overcame him, blessedly dreamless and undisturbed.

[definesanity]

Off to the Harbour, The Android's Companion, The Knights and the Alchemist.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I need to get going, see y'all later!"

"At least let me help then just sit waiting for nothing!"

"You all stay here for now. This probably won't take more than a minute or so."

In the past half hour, these three sentences were spoken.

The first was from Xinyan, who had to leave in order to reach her destination elsewhere. You wished you could've chatted more but, well, unlike you, she had an amazing carer to continue. Sure, you can play a piano better than others, but... well, Genshin had one hell of an 'Impact' on your social life (and, if you were still on Earth and caved in to getting Eula, your credit card too.)

The second was from Collei, who had an argument with Phillip over the Archon Residue in her blood; he believed that it was too dangerous to use without any sort of catalyst to control it better, but she had her rebuttal ready; it had already been a year--nearly two--since it was sealed, and she had only recently undone it for research purposes.

However, something went wrong; during one of the experiments, an attack happened, and she was badly burned during it, hence her bandages. Not only that, but Cyno, her teacher, had sent her to Mondstadt for almost no reason other than to 'perfect her abilities.' (Or, so she says. You don't judge her for keeping secrets, though.)

Which brought her to now: she's had it up to here with Phillip's parental instincts, and she said she'd rather die from overusing it than just sit around twiddling her thumbs. Phillip, seeing both no way out and Collei's valid points, obliged. At least Collei seemed to be a little happier now.

The third is from Phillip himself, and relates to his plan's last phase: meeting with a certain CEO of Geo.

He told you that, despite the distance and slight hostility between the two, Phillip knows that Morax is a good listener when he wants to be. Plus, what with the higher-ups in the Liyue Qixing not yet catching wind of you being in Teyvat, and Zhongli being able to put in a good word, you like your chances.

And, when you saw the two approach each other, you three sat and waited for them.

"...You know, despite how fast paced and quickly this whole situation has been, I've enjoyed it." you said, looking at Collei and Hank. "What about you two?"

"I admit, you've been a thorn in my side these past few days," Collei said, before giving you a smile. "But, well, you've not judging what I've done and what I've hidden, not to mention someone who uses their head, so you're at least somewhat okay."

"While it has been... interesting, I am content to know that I won't be running around as much now." Hank replied, sitting stiffly. "Still, is Phillip truly that untrusting of us, or am I overanalyzing?"

"Well, Phillip has never liked being watched. It puts him on too much on edge to talk normally. Plus, we might accidentally say something we shouldn't have." you also recalled the times he was Loux and Lux, but that's way into the past.

After another five minutes, you were interrupted by a white flash dashing by you, with Geo in its wake. Then, a deep and old voice spoke up. "You can come forwards now. Don't worry, I will not harm you."

Putting caution to the wind, you gestured for the two to stay on standby, and got up. Walking forwards, you faced Zhongli himself, looking at you with a smile on his face.

"Your Grace, The One True Creator..." he said, slowly getting on to one knee and bowing. "I daresay this isn't the meeting we were hoping for, but regardless, it is my absolute pleasure to meet you."

"I, um... it's a pleasure to meet you too, Zhongli." you nodded, smiling awkwardly.

Looking up at you, he nodded to himself. "...Ah, I see Tungsten was right; your memories of your time as Our Creator haven't yet returned, and nor has your divine strength. Include the fact of the Anemo Archon's drunkenness... I am truly sorry for the things you have endured thus far."

Really, it wasn't as bad as those 'Imposter AU' stories you saw back in your home. If anything, it was incredibly tame. Besides, only Amber's fire arrow, Venti's wind (and drunkenness) and Eula's sword physically hurt you. (But ouch, they don't mince their words there, either...)

"It's fine, Zhongli, really. If I might ask, what was it that Phillip wanted?" you know it's about the hunt, but... well, never trust him with anything involving Llizel, you've learnt repeatedly.

Although, considering he ran towards Mondstadt, you're guessing he's going to see what's happening. (At least your arm grew back. Not exactly the nicest sensation in the world, but at least you have both arms again.)

Surprisingly, it was neither of those things. Or, at least, it wasn't the first part of your guess.

"It wasn't anything too serious, do not worry for anything related to your status as the Creator. He had only asked for you to head near to Liyue Harbour, and for you and your companions to enjoy your time there, without any concerns for your status as the Creator."

"...The guy is a nutcase, but he's lucky I wanted to visit it anyway." concentrating on the Teleport Waypoint near the Harbour, you closed your eyes.

Upon opening them again, you saw you that you had arrived near Harbour. But, now...

...What to do in the meantime, though?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back with Zhongli and the others (on a mountain with... a table and seats?), Zhongli then nodded to the two. "Ah, yes; Tungsten wanted me to say one last thing to Miss Hank: 'She might try something again, so I'm hoping for you to have Collei help you use the medication.' That is all." with that, he walked past them and down the mountain, leaving Collei blinking.

"'Her?' If he wanted to be cryptic, at least try to subtle..." turning to face Hank, she sighed, placing her hands on her hips. "Right, what do I need to do?"

Hank lied down on her back. "I had hoped for this to happen later, so first, I'd like to express that I'm sorry for making you do this."

Collei waved her off. "Eh, I've had worse happen. So, what do I need to do?"

"First, take the small vial from the poach on my left leg, and put it to one side for now. Do not, I repeat, do not, let it break under any circumstance. Got it?"

Collei nodded, went to Hank's left leg, and opened the small poach. Taking the vial in it, she removed her hand to look at it. It wasn't much in terms of flair, but the crimson liquid made the green-haired girl wonder what it was.

"Next, do you see the small button under my jaw? Press it, then the one near my right eye, then my left, then the jaw button again."

Collei did as Hank instructed. When the last button was pushed, Hank's face opened, leaving Collei reeling back in surprise and shock as the literal faceplates of the android stay opened like a flower blooming.

"Ah, yes; I forgot to mention that in advance." Hank apologised. "I should mention, once you do the next set, I will be unable to communicate verbally."

"That so... well, how about this; with your left hand's index finger, tap the ground once for 'yes', and twice quickly for 'no', is that sufficient enough?"

"Yes, completely; now, press the button on my jaw. That'll open up my chest cavity, and them simply press the button there. One you're done with the part in-between now and the main part of this, simply press the buttons in reverse order to close them."

Collei nodded; she has a pretty good memory, not to brag, so it'll probably be fine. So, she pressed the buttons in order, which caused the entirety of Hank's body to open...

And revealed that, as a whole, Hank's inner body is hollow, and is holding a goddamn person in it.

The person was clearly an Oni from Inazuma, with her horn being a dead giveaway. Her other horn, her right one, was cut clean off, and is rapped in bandages at its base. Her skin was fair, her right arm was missing, and wore a curious outfit. In all, she was quite pretty, Collei can admit.

Looking at Hank's split face (she gave a small shudder just by looking at it...), she breathed in and then out. "Can you hear me, Hank?"

Tap. Well, that was a good start...

"So, this vial- do I make her drink it?"

Another tap.

"Is it all in one quick go?"

Two quick taps answered her.

"Okay... do I feed it to her slowly?"

Tap. From her hand, she began tracing letters in her air:

'C-H-I-Y-O'. That must be the girl's name, Collei acknowledged.

"'Chiyo'... what an odd name." she said, although she then shrugged to herself. "Then again, I'm one to talk..."

Opening Chiyo's mouth, she slowly had the sleeping Oni swallow the liquid, helping it travel down the windpipe without it having any problems. Luckily, she was able to prop her up slightly more, so the throat won't be constricted. After about thirty seconds, it was empty. There wasn't a visible difference, but she seemed almost more... content, in a way.

Quickly pressing the buttons in reverse order, Hank was quickly reassembled, the girl leaning forwards and crossing her legs.

"Once again, thank you for your assistance, Collei. You helped them both of us a great deal today." she gave a smile to her, her human eye gleaming with gratitude.

"It's fine," Collei waved her off, looking at her star-shaped pupil. "More importantly, why the fuck is there a woman in your body?!"

"That was Mikoshi Chiyo; Mikoshi being her family name. I have kept her in my hollowed out body for the last five hundred years, keeping her sleeping and controlled. The medication you gave her will keep her sleeping for another few days, at least until I and Phillip can successfully wake her up and for her to not kill everything she sees."

"Is that because she's an Oni?"

"That, and the fact she was once a trusted ally of the Electro Archon. She went mad due to being in the stomach of a beast of sin, corrupted by it. Before her insanity, she and Phillip seemed to have been good allies, and we're hoping that it'll continue once she wakes."

Collei looked at her bewildered, before letting out a loud laugh. "Wow, you two really love to make problems to fix problems, don't ya?"

Hank gave her a small smile. "Perhaps so. Now, then," she got up, and offered her hand to Collei. "Shall we be off?"

She grabbed onto her hand. "Yeah, I was getting a bit sick at looking at the clouds, anyway."

Hank nodded. "True; it's not for everyone."

"...Say, you wouldn't happen to have any spare clothes, do you?"

"Funnily enough yes, I do."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It didn't add up.

Barbados was an idiot, sure, but even he can figure out who Llizel is just by smell.

Then, it clicked: who, in all of Teyvat, would want the True Creator and a person who knows of the true origins of this world dead?

If you guessed Celestia, have a Yorkie bar.

Up until now, Phillip hadn't even thought that Celestia was able to control people but, then again, Visions are quite peculiar.

They're also very potent with Elemental energy, such is the case of a Pyro and Cryo energy behind him.

"The Spindrift Knight and the Outrider, I assume?" he asked, not turning around and just looking towards Stormbearer Mountains. "If you're here to apologise for injuring our mutual friend, don't; I don't believe you wouldn't recognise them, powers or no powers."

"Then why return?" the Lawrence girl demands, and he can feel a cold look directed at his nape. "If it is about a scramble to help people, them don't bother; the Acting Grandmaster has already taken care of it."

"My, aren't we fast?"

"...Is that sarcasm or...?" the Outrider--Amber, was it?--asked, but he could hear a hushed 'quiet!' from the Spindrift Knight.

"You want to praise your Maker, I want to stop the ones who want to kill them. Make sense?"

"And pray, do tell, why we should help you?"

"I haven't any way to convince you, but what would you rather; a dead Creator, or an living Creator?"

"Living, of course!" Amber--he's sure that's her name--blurted out.

"Which is exactly why we need to help each other!" he smiled, turning around. "Although, judging by your expression, I take it that you have some reservations about me?"

"That I do; however, seeing as you might be our only chance to see Them again, and to prevent anyone else trying to kill them, I will take my chances." the blue-haired girl said, her glare still not going away.

"Same here, I've got a few things to apologise for..." Amber chuckled nervously.

"Excellent!" he clapped his hands together. "First order of business," he stretched his arm out, offering his hand. "Hold on to me, and don't let go."

Lawrence raised a brow. "What are you trying to do?"

"Get us to our friend faster. By the way, are you motion sick?" before either could replay, he then nodded to himself. "Actually, never mind, you'll probably be fine. Now, arm, please?"

Lawrence and Amber looked at each other, shrugged, and grabbed on to the offered hand.

With a sound like a whipcrack, they suddenly felt they were upside down, then right-way up, then falling, then rising, all the while flashes of colour came over their eyes--

And then, suddenly, they found themselves dizzy, on the ground, and then vomiting up their meal from Good Hunter.

"Ah, right, should've told you the first trip's always a headache." Phillip awkwardly laughed, scratching the back of his neck.

"Duly noted..." Eula spat on the ground, looking back at him. "Where are we, anyways?"

"This," he began, as a flame lit up in a lantern he got from the inside of his coat. "Is where I hope to find what I'm looking for."

[orchardisland]

━━   𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐡𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢𝐧

Let me tell you the story of one of our unfortunate residents who seems to be a JOURNALIST on the island. Fate has assigned this individual guidance from THE CHARIOT REVERSED card. But they needn’t worry, their secrets are safe with me.

DOB: november 10th, 1994 DEFINING TRAITS: ambitious, direct, independent, critical, resentful, selfish RESEMBLES: actress krystal jung

YOU ARE PRESENTED WITH A PRISTINE DECK OF TAROT CARDS. TAKE YOUR PICK.

“The Chariot,” Hyejin calls out. She turns the card over in her hand, muted curiosity keeping her rooted to her seat.

“The Chariot reversed,” The Woman corrects. She is of nondescript origin, a blur of a memory almost forgotten. When she smiles it is not warmly nor cheerfully nor friendly, just the cut of a mouth stretching across a pale face. Hyejin tries not to meet her eyes. There’s an otherworldly sense about The Woman, like a creature that has seen too much and is all the wiser for it. Hyejin, again, tries not to meet her eyes. The Woman blinks owlishly at her. Hyejin tries desperately not to meet her eyes.

A beat of silence hangs heavily between them, though The Woman seems to bask comfortably in it. Eventually, Hyejin asks: “So, what does it mean?”

“What does what mean?”

“The Chariot?”

“Reversed,” The Woman corrects.

Hyejin resists the growing urge to roll her eyes. “What does The Chariot reversed mean?”

Behind the stretch of her mouth there is a glimpse of white teeth. “You’ve been encountering obstacles that have been wearing down on your spirit recently.”

Hyejin rolls her eyes then. “I’m having a hard time in life, then? Isn’t everybody?”

The Woman is clearly not amused, the line of her mouth almost disappears in its displeasure. “You are trying too hard to control certain aspects of your life, learn to surrender to the situation at hand.”

Well, that’s stupid, Hyejin wants to say. The Woman’s face puckers in irritation and for a moment Hyejin fears she may have actually voiced that thought aloud. Then, The Woman hisses: “You covet too much, girl.”

There is silence, perhaps there is the faint electrical buzz of the lights, maybe there is the steady drip of a loose faucet; but, between them, there is silence. Hyejin stills. Between chapped lips the question leaves her: “What?”

The Woman mouth stretches once more, a gruesome slit that does not stop until it consumes the width of her face. Hyejin considers the strange seemingly intimate insight The Woman had on her life.

Who did not covet, who did not desire that was beyond their reach? Was she wrong to do so, to try and tailor her life to follow the pre-established path she had set for herself? The Woman watches Hyejin, something akin to delight lighting up her sallow face. Right now, there is a desire to defend herself, to justify her actions. Hyejin knows she hasn’t always done the right thing but, well, the rest didn’t matter anyway.

Finally, Hyejin looks up at The Woman.

THE CARD FLUTTERS TO YOUR FEET. WHO WERE YOU BEFORE THIS STORY BEGAN?

“Before this?” Hyejin turns to you with a confused smile, stray pieces of hair fluttering around her face in the wild sea breeze. “What do you mean?” Maybe she gives your hand a squeeze, the sound of girlish laughter lost to the wind as she leads you down beach.

Before this?

There’s monotony, mediocrity; a listless life she would never admit to. The intangible feeling of greatness being within her grasp only for it to be snatched away (given away, stolen) at the very last second. Before this, there is a girl in a shoebox apartment wondering where it all went wrong; she was supposed to be better, supposed to have more.

Before this, there’s Seoul.

In another reality, you watch Hyejin try to light up a cigarette while taking cover from the drizzling drain. Maybe you both found each other on the rooftop to commiserate, there’s nothing like shared bitching to bring people together anyway.

“They gave Soohyun my story,” she states simply, smoke unfurling from the corner of her mouth as she turns to look at you. You can tell she wants to say more, that that isn’t the end of that; instead, she takes another long drag and then looks away. Her cigarette burns down to the filter and you watch her contemplate throwing it over the side of the building before settling for the designated waste bin. “I have something better, though,” she says, “they’re not fucking getting that.”

[evildilf2]

v interested in reading your thots about the jail ending

YIPPEE ok I’ll put them under a readmore so anyone who wants to avoid speculation can skip by. This will likely be incoherent, informal, and a bit all over the place, I hope you don’t mind LOL!

Some disclaimers: I trust that the bcs writers more than I would trust myself with the series haha, so this isn’t like… me saying this NEEDS to happen or anything like that, I’m just speculating! Also, know that this comes from someone who 1) is generally sympathetic towards Jimmy and 2) has only seen each episode once. (I’m saving my rewatch for after the finale!)

Let me start by saying this: the reason a prison ending appeals to me has nothing to do with wanting Jimmy to “get what he deserves”. This might make my perspective biased, but I’m an anarchist and prison abolitionist. I don’t believe in retributive justice, and honestly, while Better Call Saul isn’t a show ABOUT justice, I don’t think BCS is necessarily pro-retribution either. BCS seems to have a critical, and cynical attitude toward revenge and retribution: the world isn’t fair, and when people try to take matters into their own hands, they overestimate their ability to control the behavior of others, and they underestimate what people are capable of doing. I think this idea is present in most of the characters' stories. A lot of them have explanations for their behavior or motivations that I find sympathetic or arguably noble, but their quests for power and revenge only perpetuate each other, and bring about the gravest consequences for everyone involved.

In addition (this is kinda a non-sequitur but idgaf) I think in BCS, prison as a consequence isn't framed the same way that it is in BrBa. In Walter White's story, prison is quite blatantly portrayed as a punishment worse than death, but it doesn't seem to have the same stakes in BCS. Initially, I was averse to the idea of Jimmy getting a prison ending, as the depiction of prison in BrBa was still fresh in my memory & I honestly think he's a better guy than Walter ever was. But as you can see, I've thought it over and changed my mind.

So the way I see it, there are 2 probable prison endings (or categories, since I'm not going over every variable in this post): a pessimistic ending and a bittersweet ending. In the pessimistic ending, Jimmy would get caught, get sent to prison, and he takes Jeff with him. The way I understand his character as of now, is that being sent to prison involuntarily would only enable his current downward spiral. It would feed into this idea he has that the world is against him, and I honestly don’t think he would learn anything by being forced into a prison cell.

The bittersweet ending, which I honestly think is more likely, is that Jimmy turns himself in. What I suspect will happen, is that something terrible will happen to the man whose house he’s breaking into (maybe he dies from mixing the water bottle drugs with his meds), and when faced with the direct consequences of his actions, right after having that conversation with Kim, Jimmy might have a moment of self-awareness and be able to reflect on his (not inability) refusal to change his behavior. Turning himself in would be a huge moment of character growth for him as he is actively choosing to do the right thing, and I think an internal revelation and willingness to accept consequences for his actions would do more justice to the people he has wronged than forcefully imprisoning him ever would. I also don't think he would tell on Jeff in this scenario since Jimmy's the one who roped him into everything, & because Jimmy of all people should understand the value of second chances.

REGARDLESS of if he goes to jail or not though, I think he needs to make some sacrifices. I don’t think a 100% happy ending with a mcwexler reunion is in the cards for him, nor do I think it should be. But who knows what will happen! I’m sure it will be great.

[eito-rewind]

[I haven't given up. Don't misunderstand me. I wouldn't be here at all if that were the case. And believe me, I came very, very close.]

This was far more icy and forceful than he had previously been; a finely-sharpened edge of cold steel finally peeking its way out from behind the worn and weathered canvas that sheathed it. It was hard to say whether it was because a nerve had been touched, if this came from a genuine place of quiet conviction, or some mix of both.

The implication behind the second half of his statement was left to hang above them before Takumi 'spoke' again.

[You're a smart boy, Aotsuki. Too smart, sometimes. So, let's pick that smart little brain of yours.]

His tone sounded almost playful, coquettish even, at least compared to before, before shifting back into a more measured demeanor.

[Let's look at what a "Perfect Ending" would actually be, at least to most people. In this case... everyone at Last Defense Academy makes it out of this alive and well - ideally, without any brainwashing or... bodily changes, and knowing the truth; humanity still alive on the Artificial Satellite; the countless Futuran deaths on day 100 averted; and the powers behind this war on both sides removed one way or another so that the people of Earth and Futurum can actually start taking steps towards peace.]

He paused a moment to allow Eito to process the information before continuing,

[Next, we have to look at who is actually involved in all of this. So obviously, there's us, the SDU. We have the people calling the shots on the Artificial Satellite, and we have V'ehxness and those loyal to her. Then, there's also the humans and Futurans that don't agree with their leaders... Oh, dissidents. I think that's the right word. So, two groups of dissidents on both sides.]

Despite everything, Takumi was still Takumi in certain ways.

[We're going to keep it simple and say that's... Five main groups, or moving parts, all working at the same time. And then you have sort-of "wild cards" like... well. You. Or the G'ie, if that means anything to you. Every single one of these moving parts is constantly making decisions on how to move forward in this war, and in order to get that "Perfect Ending", you need them all to make choices - good or bad - that lay out the path for that to happen.]

[So, my question to you is... how much control do you think a single person - even assuming they're in some position of power in one of these groups - realistically has over all of this?]

-

Eito kept silent and listened intently to Takumi's story, staring off into the distance.

He had known that in his Takumi's first timeline, he had been slain at the end of the 100 days. And from what he'd glimpsed in his Takumi's memories, he knew there had plenty more times, besides.

But it was oddly harrowing to hear it straight from the source.

When Takumi began to break down, he wasn't quite sure how to handle it. He had never really comforted anyone before, nor had he ever had the inclination, and sitting in such close proximity, the stench of flora and decay that he associated with Takumi was becoming a bit overwhelming.

Even so, he had resolved to try to change, and so, he was going to try.

Eito said nothing at first, and rather than make any shift to deliberately reach out and potentially confuse or upset Takumi further, swayed slightly to the right and gently bumped shoulders with his companion, as if to softly shake him from his sordid thoughts.

"I don't think it will do much to ease your conscience, but for what it's worth... I don't think the initial instinct to kill me... or, versions of me... were entirely unfounded," he took a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing, suppressing the bile that threatened to rise in his throat at the thought of his past self, "I... they... showed great capacity for duplicity and violence, and repeated willingness to carry it out. While it may not have been 'right' - as useless as such moral classifications are in our position - it was a perfectly logical decision in light of the knowledge you possessed of my character."

"And when you DID extend the proverbial olive branch, that version of me decided to snatch it from your outstretched hands and promptly used it to stab you in the back at the first opportunity," he inhaled as he closed his eyes and clasped his hands in front of him pensively, giving off an air of gravitas befitting the solemn subject matter, "Again, while I am in no place to issue moral judgements, I don't think your rage at that betrayal was unjustified. I'm... all too familiar with the feeling of letting fear and hatred guide one's actions and shape one's beliefs. And how easy it is to get swept up in the passion of it."

"Especially when those feeling are being very deliberately stoked. Which, if I know me, was almost certainly what he was trying to do," he said, the tiniest smirk appearing on his lips as he kept his otherwise grave demeanor, "To make it simple, I'm a complete and utter prick."

The profanity felt strange on his tongue and he felt a bit silly saying such vulgar things about himself while remaining so deliberately composed. But hopefully, his attempt at some form of humor would help Takumi relax enough at least to continue the conversation without him breaking down.

Eito...? What are you-

//he isn't sure if this is his Eito or not

@scythe-and-sword

Ah! Takumi-kun! To what do I owe this pleasure...? Was there something you needed from me?

[He also isn't sure if this is his current Takumi]

[His tone is friendly, and even. Similar to the affect he put on in the original hundred days.]

[But under that, he's nervous.]

[Takumi is one of the very last people he wants to deal with right now, especially in light of recent events.]

I'm... more than happy to hear you out. Though, if it's going to be anything strenuous or might take a while... I might need to get back to you on that.

[His hand raises and lightly clutches his chest.]

[A vulnerable, pained gesture. Made for sympathy.]

I'm... still recovering from the other day. I dread to think what might have happened had you and the others not stepped in when you did to rescue me from that Commander...!

[He lies as easily as he breathes.]

[But funnily enough, there's a grain of truth to it.]

[A shift in expression]

[His eyes lock on to Takumi's, and quickly dart about his features.]

[Neck, hands, posture.]

[He relaxes slightly]

[He seems to have realized his mistake.]

Actually... are you, perhaps...?

[staticscreenwriting]

Love like the movies // Bucky Barnes

One - When Harry met Sally 

Synopsis: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. Growing  up, Bucky had not a doubt in his mind that his undeniable charm and his gorgeous smile would one day help him find the one. Now he realizes there’s so much more to romancing women, especially those from the 21st century. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is not a love story. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for EP1 of TFATWS)

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

“ Now in the movies they make it look so perfect And in the background they're always playing the right song And in the ending there's always a resolution But real life is more than just two hours long “

Some Avett Brothers song sounds from the little radio that sits on the corner of the counter. Thick drops of rain pearl against the window, racing each other down the glass before meeting up eventually and becoming one with each other. 

(Y/N) refills the last of the mustard bottles, setting it on the counter next to the others. It’s a quiet night at the diner. The kitchen’s been closed for an hour now and usually, that’s when people stop coming in. While the Little Blue Diner is known for their hot dogs and burgers, neither their coffee nor their cold sandwiches are gonna win any prizes any time soon. 

And yet …

Sure enough, as her eyes lift towards the figure slouched down in the corner booth, his gloved hand is already outstretched, signaling his desire for yet another refill.

A mixture between a chuckle and a scoff tumbles from her lips at the thought of him wanting more of the slightly burned liquid. If there’s one thing (Y/N) can admit to being bad at, it’s brewing coffee. Where there should be a rich brown color, hers usually ends up with an inky black hue and instead of leaving a hint of warm caramelization on your tongue hers just tastes bitter. It doesn’t seem to face the man in the corner though. Not even a little bit. To say this worries her is a bit of an understatement. No one in their right mind would take 7 refills of her witch's brew.

“ You okay, my dude ? “ (Y/N) inquires as she steps up to his table, coffee pot in hand. 

The man doesn’t look up at her. He doesn’t have to. She’s acutely aware of the character currently occupying the corner booth. It’s a face she knows like the back of her hand. One that’s been staring at her from books and documentaries, one she’s been greeted by every time her dad took her with him to the Smithsonian. Though they do not dare look up at her, she’s so awfully familiar with the bright blue shade of his eyes, he might as well be a long-time friend. 

“ I’m fine. “ 

Of all the lies in the world, “I’m fine” must be the most unbelievable one and yet the one told most often. No one who’s actually fine ever says those words. Those two words are reserved for the lonely and broken only. It’s like getting “I’m not fine at all” tattooed across your goddamn forehead. 

“ Sure you are, that’s why you’re having the 7th refill of my god awful coffee. “ 

“ ‘s not that bad. “ 

“ Sure, if you’re into licking charcoal it’s probably not that bad. “

It’s just a split of a second, a fraction of a moment, but (Y/N) is sure she can see the corner of his lips lifting slightly. It falls back into the stoic scowl immediately but it was there. For a teeny tiny moment, there was the shadow of a smirk on his face and that’s a success in her book. 

“ Either way, here’s how we’re gonna do this. I’ll give you one last refill, after that, I’m cutting you off, my friend. I know I’m a waitress and it’s my job to bring you what you want but I do not fancy watching you suffer a caffeine-induced heart attack in this very diner. I am not equipped to handle a situation like that and quite honestly they don’t pay me enough to deal with that either. “ 

His eyes are still trained on the scratched-up white linoleum table but ever so faintly he nods his head in silent agreement. 

As promised, she pours him one last cup of coffee. A brew so dark it could rival the bubbling goo of a tar pit. 

“ Enjoy your last cup of the night, Mr. Barnes. “ 

It’s then, as she’s just about to walk back behind the counter, as those words leave her lips, that he looks up for the first time since he’s walked in. 

His eyes are the exact shade of blue she’s so familiar with but there’s something else about them. An infinite sadness haunts every spec of blue. Where she thought there would be a sparkle of adventure, a hint of mischief, there is just loneliness. This is not the man she’s read about in museums, heard about in stories. This man right here is completely and utterly lost.

“ I - I uh — “ 

He clears his throat, once, twice, then nervously brushes his hand across his face. 

“ I can go if you don’t want me here. “ 

“ Huh? “ 

“ I asked if you want me to leave. “ 

As those words escape him, his eyes seem to grow even more devastated. They glimmer with memories of a time long gone and a future uncertain. Shine with hurt and fear. 

“ Why would I ask you to leave? “ 

Bucky shrugs his shoulders in a way to make it look nonchalantly. It’s hard to seem casual though when you seem to carry the weight of the entire world on your shoulders. 

“ People who recognize me usually aren’t so keen on having me around. I don’t know if you’ve heard but I’m uh — I’m not people’s favorite person. “ 

It’s a sad thought, (Y/N) realizes, to be constantly bound to a past that is yours but never really belongs to you. To be forever linked with the horrible actions of a version of yourself you had no control over. And no matter how hard you try to set it all right and to repent for your wrongdoings, to some people it will never be enough.

“ No, you don’t have to leave, “ (Y/N) reassures before sliding into the booth opposite him. “ I don’t know you because of — because of what happened. I know you first and foremost as Sergeant Barnes, former officer of the 107th Infantry Regiment, part of the Howling Commandos, and best friend and brother to Steve Rogers. Everything else that’s — none of my business really. “ 

Bucky lifts his eyes off of the table again and while the sadness is still there, something else lingers for a moment. Curiosity, intrigue maybe, or just relief. 

“ Wow. Didn’t think I’d run into someone reciting my life to me. Huh. “ 

“ My dad used to be a curator at the Smithsonian. He was in charge of the Captain America exhibition. I’ve seen your face a million times, visiting him at work. I gotta say though, you look way more approachable and friendly on the picture they put up. “ 

This time, it’s more than a fleeting moment, this time she’s sure about it, this time he lets out an actual chuckle. 

“ I was a lot younger then, okay? Cut an old man some slack. “ 

“ Oh, you pulling the old man card now? “ 

“ Is it working? “ he asks, eyebrows raised in question. 

“ Not really. “ 

“ Ah, what a shame.” 

Silence settles upon them again like a thick duvet filled with feathers, it’s not uncomfortable but it’s smothering anyway.

“ Do you wanna talk about it? Your sour mood, I mean.” 

Bucky shrugs again “I have a therapist.” 

“ Does she make you draw your feelings? “ 

He smiles again at that question. His smile, (Y/N) thinks, ain’t the worst thing she’s ever seen. She wouldn’t mind seeing it more often.

“ No. Why? “ 

“ Mine did. She stopped pretty quickly though, I guess my drawings were too detailed and gory for her.” 

“ Huh. “ 

“ Mmmh.” 

After another sip of coffee, one he takes without grimacing, without showing any sign of disgust for the burnt brew, Bucky speaks up again.

“ Mine thinks I’m lying to her. “ 

“ Are you ?” 

“ Well yeah, but she doesn’t need to know that.” 

“ Maybe telling her the truth would help you. “ (Y/N) suggests only to be met with a determined head shake No from Bucky. 

The notification sound of a phone pulls them from their conversation and at the sight of the name on the display, Bucky lets an “oh shit” slip from his lips.

“ Don’t you sound excited about getting texts from your friends, “ (Y/N) jokes

“ I had a date last night. That’s her. “ 

“ Since she’s texting you I assume it went well. “ 

Bucky grimaces at her words, slightly shaking his head in disagreement.

“ No? “ 

“ I mean, I had fun and it went well — at first. She’s really sweet. But then we started talking and I may have run. “ 

“ Ran where? “ 

“ Away. “ 

“ Away as in you left. “ 

“ Mm-mmh” 

“ Just like that? “ 

“ Yup. “ 

“ Why? “ 

He throws up his arms in frustration and shakes his head again as if to gather all his thoughts and rattle them neatly back into place. 

“ I don’t know, okay? I haven’t been on a date since the 1940s. Everything I know about women and dating and romance seems antiquated. I’m overwhelmed and confused and I just don’t wanna do anything wrong.” 

“ Dude, you ran from your date without any explanation. How much worse could you have handled it? “ 

“ Yeah well, hindsight is 20/20. “ 

While his words try to sound light and nonchalant, his shoulders tense and his whole demeanor seems to shift back into the gloomy state he’s been in since he entered the diner. Like a big cloud that’s following him around, casting shadows at all times and hardly allowing any light to shine through.

“ Look, I don’t think any of us know what the heck we’re doing half the time. Like, trust me I know what I’m talking about. Online dating means I have to choose between men who think posing with a dead fish will make me want to sleep with them, men who think knowing obscure Star Wars facts can replace having an actual personality, and men who send me pictures of their … privates without me ever giving any indication of wanting to see those. So yeah — dating can really s - be frustrating. “ 

Bucky regards her for a second, the right corner of his lips pulled into a lazy lopsided smirk.

“ Did you just censor yourself because you don’t wanna swear around me ?” 

“ Maybe, but that’s beside the point. The point is, we’re all just human and in the end, we’re all just looking for someone to like us the way we are, all quirks and issues and baggage included. I know women might seem intimidating but really all we want is to be loved and appreciated. And not the over-the-top build-you-a-house, the notebook kind of love. More like the Harry and Sally kind.“ 

(Y/N) can almost see the gears working inside Bucky’s brain, the desperate attempt to make any sense of all the words and phrases she’s just thrown at him. A jumbled mess of pop culture references swirls through his head like a swarm of bees, chaotic and messy. 

“ I have no idea what you just said. “ 

“ When Harry met Sally? “

Bucky just shrugs and shakes his head.

“ You’ve never seen it? “ 

“ I’ve been a bit preoccupied with being blipped away into oblivion for the last 5 years. So I haven’t really had the time to get into movies yet. “ 

This time it’s the gears in her own head that start turning. 

“ What are you doing Friday night ? “ she asks, biting her lip in nervous anticipation.

“ I — I don’t know. “ 

That’s a bit of a lie, really. He does know. It’s the same thing he does pretty much every other day. He gets some takeout, brings it home, sits down in front of the tv, tries to get lost in whatever show they put on, fails at doing so, reads a few pages of a book, lays down to sleep, and then wakes up a little while later to yet another nightmare, tangled up in sweaty sheets, heart racing. 

(Y/N) doesn’t need to know any of that though. He doesn’t tell his therapist so why would he tell a random stranger.

“ Well, don’t make any plans. We’re gonna kill 2 birds with 1 stone. “ 

“ We are? “ 

“ Yeah. Trust me on this one. “ 

“ I don’t even know you. “ 

“ Sure you do. “ (Y/N) says and taps the tag pinned to her baby blue polo shirt with the diner’s logo on the back.  “ I’m the one who serves you just enough coffee to keep you happy but not have you die a painful and honestly mildly embarrassing death. “ 

Every part of him screams at him to say no. To stay away from her the way he does from most other people, even Sam. To get up and get out and not cause any more damage than he already has in other people’s life. But then he remembers his therapist's words, he remembers Leah’s face full of confusion and disappointment, he remembers the empty feeling in his chest. That feeling of pure and utter loneliness. 

“ Alright, Friday works for me, (Y/N). “ 

“ Perfect, Bucky. “ 

“ Bring a jacket. “ 

The address and “Bring a jacket” that’s all she’s texted him. No explanation, no plan, nothing. 

Bucks leans against the streetlamp, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his leather jacket. Anxiety is washing through his system like tidal waves on a stormy ocean. This whole being spontaneous thing was much easier back in the 40s. When his shoulders weren’t so heavy with guilt. When he didn’t have to constantly face the consequences of his actions. Consequences of a past he can never quite outrun no matter how far he goes and how hard he tries. 

Maybe this is good, he has to remind himself. Getting out of his comfort zone, if that even exists for him. Opening himself up to new opportunities. Maybe even make a friend. (Y/N) seem nice enough, if a bit peculiar. 

His shrink would be proud of him. Getting out there, talking to people, being approachable. This must for sure earn him some kind of gold star equivalent in her notebook. 

“ Hey there, Mr. Grumpyface. “ 

(Y/N)'s voice cuts through the chilly New York night like headlights through thick fog. She strolls towards him, lips pulled into a big bright smile. Leading up to tonight he’s spent quite a lot of time wondering if this is some kind of project for her, if maybe she sees him as a sort of charity case. Something to earn her karma points. It wouldn’t be the first time. But the genuine joy radiating from her face lets those worries melt away instantly. 

Maybe, Bucky thinks, she really just thinks he’ll make a good friend. And maybe he can. 

“ Hi, (Y/N). “

“ You brought a jacket” she points out, pinching the black leather between her fingers. Her nails are painted in various shades of red, each finger a different hue. 

“ I did. You told me to. “

“ And you listened! “ 

“ Why wouldn’t I ? “ Bucky inquires, a look of confusion settling on his face.

“ You wouldn’t believe how many men think wearing a jacket when it’s cold out somehow clashes with their need to demonstrate their masculinity. “ 

“ Wow. “ he exclaims.

“ Yeah. So anyway, you ready to go up? “ 

She nods her head towards the house across the street. It’s a slim multiple-story brick building with rusty fire escapes. It looks like a residential lot, not much else that could give away (Y/N)’s plan for the rest of the night.

“ Up? “ 

“ Mm-mh. “ (Y/N) nods and motions towards the top of the building. “ to the roof. “ 

“ The roof? You’re not planning to push me off or anything, right? I don’t usually spend time with strangers on rooftops. “ he tells her, a smirk lifting the sides of his lips.

She grants him a smile in return. One of those that you try so hard to suppress but despite your best efforts they find their way onto your face anyway. Because some smiles demand to be smiled. And her smile is pretty cute, he thinks, it deserves to be seen. 

“ Foiled again, damn Bucky. I’m a waitress with a useless degree in literature and creative writing but assassinating you was exactly what I had planned for tonight. Couldn’t let me have that one, huh? “ 

“ Sorry to spoil all the fun. “ 

She softly bumps her shoulder against his right side as she passes him and crosses the street. Her red skirt flutters around her knees like a ribbon of fire, bright and warm and —

“ You coming, grumpy ?” 

“ Yeah uh — yeah sure. “ 

The walk upstairs is filled with chatter from her and nodding from Bucky. It’s been like this most of the time since — well since he’s really back. Other people usually do the talking and Bucky listens. It works most of the time. Works with Yori. Sometimes though, sometimes it doesn’t. He can see people getting frustrated with him. Hell his own therapist does and she knows the baggage he has to carry around. 

This is different though, (Y/N) doesn’t seem to mind much. She’s a waterfall of words and topics and doesn’t seem to get bored or annoyed with him. It’s nice. 

A heavy iron door swings open as they reach the top of the building and as soon as they step out onto the rooftop balcony they get engulfed in an ocean of lights. They’re strung from one end of the roof to the other and back again. Next to the door, a little makeshift bar is set up, and a guy in a Star Wars shirt hands out beers to people. 

Multicolored deck chairs and beanbags are haphazardly placed across the entire roof, all pointing towards the corner furthest away from the door where a big white sheet hangs spanned between two poles. 

“ Sooo you gonna tell me what we’re doing here? “ Bucky asks again as (Y/N) steers him towards a cluster of chairs in the back. 

“ Some peeps I went to university with, set up movie screenings here every once in a while. I could pull some strings and got to choose the movie. “ 

“ We’re gonna watch a movie? “ 

“ Not just any movie, “ she exclaims and drops down onto one of the plastic deck chairs that looks like it used to be bright pink once but is now but a bleached blush colour from being exposed to the sun too much. “ We’re watching when Harry met Sally. “ 

Bucky slumps down on the chair next to her, a blue one with white daisy patterns. 

“ Me not knowing this movie really does bother you, huh? “ 

“ It’s a classic, might as well start with this one. And anyway, maybe this can help you get back into the dating game. Ya know, help you understand modern romance. “

“ You think so? “ 

She shrugs and starts fumbling around in her bag, “ I dunno. It might. And if it doesn’t at least you’ll spend your time watching a good movie and get to experience the blessing of my company. Ah-ha! There you go “ 

Her hand reaches out holding a bag of M&Ms.

“ I brought snacks. “ 

More and more people start occupying the chairs and bean bags and a few minutes later a guy steps up in front of the sheet. He’s wearing a shirt with a black and white bird pattern, huge glasses with a brown frame, and jeans that don’t cover his ankles. He’s tall and lanky and his hair is so messy, Bucky wonders if it’s intentional or if he just hasn’t brushed it in a while. 

“ Hi guys, I’m Andrew. For those of you who don’t know me, I live in apartment 2B and I just wanna say thank you for showing up and welcome you to our movie night under the stars. A few days ago we received a special request from one of our good friends and because she let me stay on her couch for several months back during our college days and I still owe her for that I couldn’t reject her request. So thanks to Miss (Y/N) over there in the pink chair you now get to spend the next 90 minutes watching Meg Ryan fall in love with Mike Wazowski. Enjoy. “ 

As he steps away from the sheet, the lights are turned off and the MGM logo pops up on the screen. 

“ Trust me, Bucky. This one’s so good.” (Y/N) assures before throwing some M&Ms into her mouth, now entirely focused on the movie.

It takes a while for Bucky to relax. Being around so many people and not having any fear of what’s lurking around the corner is still very new. Letting go is never as easy as it sounds. Eventually though, his nerves settle down a little and as the movie progresses, he finds himself relaxing more and more. Something he hasn’t done in a long time. Not since Wakanda.

Exactly 46 minutes into the movie, (Y/N) lets her eyes wander to her left where Bucky, until now, sat slumped into his seat. Still perpetually grumpy but more chilled out and relaxed than she’s seen him before. Until now. A moaning Meg Ryan visible making him uncomfortable.

“ You okay, grumpy? “ 

He doesn’t grant her a real answer, just scoffs and rolls his eyes. There’s a smile though, she’s sure. Somewhere hidden there is another smile. 

“ So, what did we learn today? “ 

Bucky looks at (Y/N) who has her arms wrapped tightly around her middle shielding herself from the chilly night air. The movie night has ended a while ago and the two of them are slowly strolling along the New York City streets on the way back to (Y/N)’s apartment. 

“ To take your own advice and dress warmer for a movie night? “ 

(Y/N) chuckles. “ No, grumpy. I meant the movie. “ 

He shrugs at her question. Quite honestly he hasn’t learned anything new. Nothing about the movie seemed in any way revolutionary to him nor does he see any benefit for himself and his dating life going forward. But the way she looks at him right now, expecting something grand not from him really but some beautiful consequences to her ideas, that makes him reconsider. Sure he could tell her that it was just a silly little movie about people falling in love but that would no doubt hurt her, even a tiny little bit. And if there’s anything Bucky has enough of, it’s hurting others. 

“ I guess that men and women really can not be friends. “ 

“ Noooo! No. Is that really what you took from this movie? “ 

“ That’s literally what happened. “ 

“ Okay first of all it works, look at us! We’re friends! Second of all, that’s not what the movie is really about. It’s about love and vulnerability. It’s about overcoming all the tiny things that can work against you and your relationship. Like distance and timing and egotism. It’s about hiding who you are because really opening up to someone, being your authentic true self with all your faults and imperfections, that makes you vulnerable. And being vulnerable is fucking scary. But love is worth it anyway. That’s what the movie is about. “

As Bucky noticed before, some smiles demand to be smiled. They need to be smiled because they’re important and they mean something. The one gracing his face now, that’s one of those. One of those you remember because you feel them all the way in your heart.

“ You think we’re friends? “ 

“ Oh, are we — are we not? “ 

“ No. I — no, we are! I’d like to be friends. “ 

(Y/N) abruptly stops in her tracks, turns towards him, and holds out her hand. “ To friendship.” 

“ We’re shaking hands on it? What is this, a business deal? “ 

“ You know what, yeah now that you mention it that’s pretty lame. “ (Y/N) agrees, balling her hand into a fist “ how about a fist bump, bro? “ 

Bucky reluctantly knocks his right hand against hers before continuing his walk down the street. “You call me bro again I’m canceling the friendship. “ 

“ Alright. Noted. “ 

“ So have you talked to the girl again? “ 

“ Hmm? “ 

“ The one you went on a date with? “ 

“ Oh, Leah. Uh — no.” 

“ Why not? “ 

Bucky throws her a look. One that says “are you kidding me?”. One that says “ you know why.” 

“ Cause I ran out. That’s embarrassing. She’s gonna think I’m insane. She’s never gonna wanna see me again. “ 

“ I sincerely doubt that. You just gotta say sorry. I know in Love Story — that’s a novel and also a movie from the 70s — they say that ‘Love means never having to say you’re sorry but that’s a load of bull. Just say sorry and ask her for a do-over. “ 

“ And then what? We play a rematch of battleships and talk about my trauma? “ 

“ Well, what did you do on dates in the 40s? “ 

That time, his youth, that seems like a different life altogether now. So much happened between then and now and the man he is now, has no relation to the boy he was then. Sometimes looking back hurts, makes it painfully obvious what he’s lost. But sometimes, like tonight, he can feel a hint of fondness coursing through him at the thought of times long gone.

“ Dancing, mostly.” 

“ Like, ballroom dancing? “ 

“ Swing. “ 

“ You swing dance? “ 

“ I did. “ 

(Y/N) regards him through squinted eyes “ really? “ 

“ You don’t believe me? “

“ I don’t know. You don’t strike me as a dancer. “ 

Not a second later, Bucky’s gloved hand grabs onto her’s and twirls her towards him then away from him and back in. 

“ You twirled me! “ 

“ Mm-mh.”

“ I’ve never been twirled. That’s so fun. “ 

It’s like autopilot taking over as Bucky holds onto her, twirling her again then pulling her in and swaying them in a circle. It’s not swing dancing, not even close but there’s no music either, and anyway, his dancing days are over. But sometimes you gotta make a point and if that means slow dancing in the middle of an empty street then that’s that. 

The night wraps them in a blanket of comfort and intimacy as the stars and the New York skyline try to outshine each other. It’s a moment so peaceful, Bucky can’t remember the last time his heart felt so light, his mind felt so at ease, his entire being got to let go and just be alive and in the moment.

And then the shine of headlights rips them from their moment and makes them jump back onto the sidewalk. 

“ Get off the road you fucking morons! “ 

“ Gotta love the big city folk. “ 

“ Yup. “ 

“ Hey, Bucky.” 

“ What? “ 

“ You really can dance.” 

“ Told you. “ 

“ Can I tell you a secret? “ 

“ Sure. “ 

“ I can’t dance for shit. “ 

“ That so? “

“ Yup. Which means you gotta teach me. “ 

“ Absolutely not.” 

“ Oh, 100%! “ 

“ We’ll see about that.” 

There are nights you try to forget. Nights that you wish to never ever remember. Ones that break you. That beat you down and leave you bruised and battered.

Then there are nights like this one that you want to hold onto for just a little bit longer. Those that fill you with joy and an immeasurable thirst for life. The ones that make you feel grateful to be alive right here and now. 

The inevitable end of the night creeps closer as they arrive at (Y/N)’s front door. Neither of them really want to say goodnight but both know there’s no use in delaying it.

“ I hope you didn’t hate the movie too much, “ (Y/N) speaks up, leaning against the front door of her apartment complex.

“ No. It was fun! Although I still don’t know who Mike Wazulsky is. “ 

“ Mike Wazowski, he’s — you know what? That’s a conversation for another time. “ 

“ Alright, if you say so. “ 

“ Thanks for walking me home. “ 

“ Oh, yeah no need to thank me. It’s the right thing to do. “ 

For a moment they just stand and smile, trying to cherish the last few moments of this night. 

“ We should do this more often. “ Bucky suggests, surprising even himself.

“ For sure. I still have so many movies to show you. “ 

“ Can’t wait. “ 

A slight sense of awkwardness falls over them as neither of them knows what to do. Go for a hug? Shakes hands? Wave goodbye? 

“ I uh — I should go. “ 

“ Yeah, of course. Have a good night, Bucky.” 

“ You too, (Y/N).” 

“ Oh and Bucky? “ 

“ Yes? “ 

“ Give Leah a call. “ 

Bucky nods his head before turning around and walking back into the night.

As he takes the way back to his own home, there are only two things on Bucky’s mind: the vulnerability of falling in love and the question of who the hell Mike Wazowski was. 

[astaroth1357]

The Demon Brothers (Minus Asmo) at Their Worst  Pt. 1 (Lucifer, Mammon, Levi)

To the anons who gave me this idea, here it is. Unfortunately, I can’t say I’m all that happy to bring it to you, cause yikes this hurt to write. I’m grateful, however, because I believe I’m better for it. You shouldn’t always stay in your comfort zone. I left out Asmodeus for personal reasons. Regardless of my ability, given the nature of this challenge, I don’t feel comfortable with writing nor posting graphic content of sexual violence and chose to refrain from doing so. Please do not ask for this to be written at a later date, I will politely refuse then as I am now.

Check out the Masterlist for more.

Warnings: THEIR SINS HAVE BEEN TAKEN TO AN EXTREME (AND ALL THAT IMPLIES), Abusive/Controlling Relationships, Violence, Threat of Human Trafficking, Drowning, Angst, Regret, Suicidal Thoughts

This is all for the purposes of fantasy and in no way an endorsement for these behaviors in real life. Be nice (and smart) with your lives, my friends.

Intro: Maybe the MC should have known better. It should have sunk in a long time ago that they were in incredibly risky territory... They should have remembered that these men, though they call them friends, family, and perhaps even lovers, are still demons at their heart and core. Each of them are the embodiment of some of the worst behaviors man has to offer... MC, there are some people you just shouldn’t date, even if they love you, and now you suffer the consequences...

Lucifer

It’s not difficult to see how Pride can go awry. Self-confidence and dignity are wonderful things, but let them build up unchecked and all manner of petty, vindictive behavior can surface from within a person... 

Lucifer is far from immune to these flare ups. In fact, he falls victim to them so often that they may as well be ingrained in his personality. If you do anything that mocks or belittles him, even if it’s small, you’ll get a reaction. One that’s usually more severe than offense calls for...

The MC knew this going into a relationship with him. Supposedly, they knew all the no-go zones, too. Don’t make fun of him or Diavolo, don’t mention the Fall or his back, don’t call him a nag... That sort of thing.

What they hadn’t expected was the full brunt of the expectations suddenly leveled on them.

To say Lucifer was demanding would be an understatement. Everything about him had to be poised, powerful, collected, and perfect. Whether he realized it or not, these expectations bled into their relationship as well.

It started with him nitpicking little details... The way they stood, how they styled their hair, maybe a comment or two on what they ate. But it progressively got worse...

Suddenly he found problems with the way they dressed, what they listened to, what shows they watched, even how they greeted him in the mornings!

Before too long, nothing was right to him… Nothing was good enough. They were his other half, his biggest vulnerability, and in order for him to feel secure about that they had to be perfect… However Lucifer defined it.

They listened to him at first. Though his comments stung, he could be so loving too… He truly made them feel special. Like he wouldn’t be trying so hard if it were anyone but them...

But pretty words and kind actions could only go so far. They couldn’t completely erase the vitriol being tossed at them day after day… 

Slowly, with every little change, they could feel themselves start to dwindle… The choices they made felt foreign, the lifestyle they held became draining, and then one day they realized they didn’t even look right anymore… They were no longer the person they wanted to be. 

Lucifer was doing what he set out to do: train them, break them, then mold them into something new... So they could be perfect...

Just like him.

One day, however, they just couldn’t take being the person he wanted anymore...

He found them in their bedroom just before a party that Diavolo had been planning for weeks. Their hair wasn’t fixed and their clothes were a mess. His frustration nearly skyrocketed until he saw their face, vacant and broken, staring blankly straight ahead…

He couldn’t rouse them. They wouldn’t move no matter how much he shouted, threatened, or swore...

….they didn’t even budge when he begged…

His brothers eventually noticed something amiss and took them away. Their disgust with him was fairly evident… They probably would have tried something had he not been the strongest.

He had taken something wonderful and squashed it... Hurt someone he truly loved and ruined what they could have had to protect his damn ego…

Lilith, his brothers, and Satan especially… was everyone he tried to care for just bound to end up broken too…?

The MC’s recovery was slow. They had a lot of damage to repair and a whole new identity to build. He stayed out of it as much as he could, burying himself in work and seeing his brothers less and less...

He’d done enough damage to them anyway...

Mammon

The Greedy, Scummy Second-Born… Words to etch on his tombstone. Mammon had heard it all before from all angles: the demons above him, below him, hell even a passersby on the street would know his face and his laundry list of a rap sheet...

The one person who seemed to look past all that was MC.

He truly didn’t know what sort of karma he’d gained or luck he scored to have them in his life. They didn’t just see him at his best side, they made him want to fix his worst...

But that’s easier said than done, isn’t it?

The sad truth is Mammon is a gambler at heart. Oh he loves the money, the riches, fine things, and the bling but what else does he enjoy? The rush.

There’s nothing like that feeling of triumphant when the dice falls your way or the pure exhilaration of a close bet. When all cards are on the table and everything’s stacked against you, eking out that win can cause a head-rush better than any orgasm he’s ever had... The higher the stakes? The better the high.

But maybe he went a little too far…

It’s one thing to bet Grimm, he can make more of that in a night. It’s another to bet items, harder to replace but not impossible. People…? Well. If you want high stakes…

MC was actually with him that night when he made the “great” decision to bet his most valuable treasure on poker match. He was running out of Grimm and thought that the added risk would make him play better…

He thought wrong.

MC hadn’t been at the table at the time he made the deal, but they had come back just in time to see him get his ass handed to him. He lost. Spectacularly.

When the other demons there came over to encircle MC, it already felt like his world was crumbling down around him... The look of confusion, then hurt and betrayal in their eyes forever seared themselves into his memory.

“You bet me in a poker game?!”

It sounds almost comical, but he knew what the demons were planning to do to them wasn't. And just seeing the way his human’s wrist snapped when one of the men wrenched their arm from them confirmed it.

He wouldn’t let them get away with that. When the threats escalated to violence, he took his share of punches but in the end he was left standing.

The MC was furious. He had just whittled their entire existence down to a bargaining chip and one that he tossed away carelessly…

Yeah, he’s truly a scumbag, isn’t he?

They didn’t talk to him for quite a while, despite him begging for forgiveness. There was always a part of him that wondered why he even bothered… He had done it before, and in another gambling-induced high he would probably do it again…

They’d honestly be better off without him...

Leviathan

It’s, frankly, quite difficult to be the Avatar of Envy. Every day Levi feels uncomfortable in his own skin… Like he doesn’t measure up to this or that or like he’s not worthy of being in the meager position afforded to him. He preferred to hide himself away and try not to dwell on it… but then MC came along…

For once, he felt like he had something. Something truly special. Something one of a kind and like no other… He couldn’t point to any of his brothers and say that they had something better, hell, he couldn’t even point to Diavolo and say that he had a finer version.

No. He had them. The one, the only, MC. Better than all the rest. His only great accomplishment in his miserable, pathetic life...

… so why did they keep leaving him…?

It didn’t hurt that badly at first when they’d tell him they couldn’t go watch some new anime with him because they had other plans. Sometimes they’d go off shopping with Mammon or have lunch with Beel… That was fine. Understandable.

At least that’s what he’d tell himself.

After a while though, he started to feel lonely… rejected… Was he not good enough for them? Surely that had to be it, right?? A miserable shut-in otaku with someone like them? What a joke!

Any time he’d voice his insecurities, they’d always say the same things: “No, don’t be silly!” “I really do want to be with you.” “I love you, Levi. Don’t you believe me?”

No. He didn’t. With each passing hour spent away from him, time where he would get shafted for one of his brothers instead, he believed them less and less…

Soon all he heard was lies…

Something possessed him that day. MC had just missed their third live stream in a row in order to be with his brothers instead. Which one was it? It didn’t really matter. He felt the stinging pain of isolation all the same…

When the MC walked into his room they had no way of knowing that the festering hatred and inadequacy that had been stewing in him for months was about to spill over. His anger was so quick to spark and their human body too weak to resist...

It was only once he realized how long he had their head forced under the water of his aquarium that he finally let them up for air.

He was stepping over himself to apologize, stammering incoherently through his tears how he just lost control and didn’t know what came over him!

His brothers weren’t forgiving. Not in the slightest. Each of them seemed to want to beat him within an inch of his life and he didn’t blame them… If he could get away with it, he’d march himself into the sea and let it serve as his rightful prison…

His punishments were severe, but not unending, and soon he was back in his room again. Now he never leaves it and the MC is never allowed back in, even if they want to be.

He now, truly, doesn’t deserve them at all...

Link to Part Two: Satan, Beel, Belphie