#aamusedly / the devil.

[starfoam]

“You know, I’m genuinely amazed it took us this long to try anything with rope. Although I’d have prefered silk, if I’m being honest.”

They'd both been tied, back to back, to folding chairs. Like a Saturday morning cartoon - kind of like the knockout gas that could have killed any normal people who inhaled it, probably. Actually, now that she thought of it, maybe it was just poison gas for normal people.

“Think this is meant to keep us here, or just buy time?”

@aamusedly

[spakonamoved]

With everything finally within reach, Kaldar couldn’t help but feel itchy. Impatient, like time was starting to slip through fingers and shit was gonna move all over again. His heart beat a mile a minute and his ear felt like it was closing up. It was small, but the way his fingers close and open and his knuckles twitch have him ready to run out of the now familiar bar and back into the bowels of Night City. He’d have been faster by himself.

But Luci doesn’t work that way, so he scowled without much bite and more like a reflex. Kaldar knew in some way, shape, or form, he’d be nagged to hell about it. He also knew this mattered to the both of them, even if at one point the Devil had insisted that he’d moved on. He sunk back into his seat, his knuckles rapping on the table next to the Shirley Temple he’d been given.

“Fine -- what’d’you got so far?”

@aamusedly sent: “Plans are plans. I’m a bad ass, not an anarchist.”

[bearsrelic]

"bad news—our informant got zeroed." she doesn't love coming to corpo plaza—knows she sticks out like a sore thumb, her style screaming street kid, merc, lowlife—and she hates being the bearer of bad news even more. but here she is; if she's going to find this implant he wants and get paid, she's going to need another source of intel. "fuckin' scavs got him. tracked them down, but he flatlined on me before i could get him to a doc." bad stroke of luck; story of v's life. "got any other options? i'm not going in there blind." not for all the scratch in night city.

@aamusedly liked for a starter

[beenpole]

@aamusedly​

This isn’t where she expected it to end; in a cheap room at The Tops, not even a suite. That had been the issue all along, expecting better and getting less. Or, perhaps, expecting anything at all. Marcie had gotten it in her head, somewhere along the way, she she deserved only good things, forgetting to keep humble. Sure, there was the occasional assisination and kidnapping attempts by men with more caps and chems than brains. But this man had brains, currently sprayed all over her favorite mauve wool dress. And here she’d thought she was getting a promotion, or a commendation, and that he had wanted privacy. Marcie wanted to look professional, confident, respectable.

Daines. He’d always been nice to her, even fatherly -  something she hated from older men, as they wanted one of two things from her. But he’d always gotten her out of the troubles she loved getting herself into, so the fatherly role fit comfortably. And now he had come to collect. She was so stupid, and Daines was dead.

Staring at herself in the en suite bathroom mirror, Marcie flicked bits of guts off her dress, hard to see make apart from the mauve. Lipstick smeared, she wiped her mouth against a bathrobe hung with a matching pair - so thoughtful - on the towel rack. It was hard to tell where the lipstick ended, and the bruise he’d left when he slapped her across the face started, but thankfully this room had running water. Not a cheap room afterall, what a gentleman.

She re-applied her lipstick and ran her fingers through her tussled hair. If anyone saw her, they’d assume she’d had a good lay, nothing more. turned off the bathroom and room light, grabbed her purse from the table by the door, and locked the room behind her as she left.

If Daines told anyone where he was going and who he was meeting, perhaps his secretary down at the base, it wouldn’t be long before the regulars at The Tops placed her as getting onto the elevator with him not 30 minutes before. And eventually a guest would place her screams, then his, the incessant ding-ing of a rotary telephone -- as more than just another quarrel to ignore in the banal violence of the Mojave. This gave her a few hours. That was time plenty enough.

x

Marcie found Devil sitting outside her apartment at a flimsy garden table, under a patched patio umbrella she saved from a trash heap years ago. An unblemished china coffee pot steamed, as if he knew to keep it warm, next to a matching sugar bowl and creamer.

If there was one thing she loved the most about Westside,it was that no one messed with her things. There had only been two break ins to her apartment in 5 years, because the Westside locals gave a shit about each other, watched each others backs. It wasn’t for nothing, as Marcie’s caps flowed freely and generously into the co-op and education ventures held by the locals. If she hadn’t been relying on her Oregon venture, Westside was a good place as any to settle down.

Sitting down in front of him, she flashed him her best big girl smile, not convincing in the slightest. Lips trembling, eyes misty behind her fashionably large sunglasses, Marcie had not stopped to cover her bruised cheek with cosmetic powder - there hadn’t been time.

“One cream, two sugars please, if you don’t mind.”

[silentshadowmancer]

Princess and Dragon 2 by blinkpen

@aamusedly  

[paintthestarrysky]

@aamusedly

Eleria knew her life, while unconventional, was a good one. She had a relatively stable, if unusual, family who loved her, and the opportunity to pursue her passion of art at a high school geared specifically for it. So when an opportunity to study the art of Europe in person for several weeks came up, she wasn't going to turn it down.

There was only one problem; her father. He'd probably say no flat out simply because he didn't care to have her out of his sight for long. An understandable protective measure, she knew, but inconvenient at times. And her mother was currently away so she couldn't even be the voice of reason.

Upon arriving home, Eleria went looking to see if her father was around. The Devil had a large operation to run, after all, so it was possible that he was occupied.

"Dad?"

[aviiatrix-archived]

devil may cry starters meme status: accepting !!

@aamusedly​ asked: “I think that look suits you better.” -from @o-rusted-heart​

♘ ― ❝ ya’ really think so? ❞ her hands mess with the rolled up sleeves timidly. it wasn’t a fancy dress of course, river wasn’t very good with those especially since she felt it left her too exposed in such a dangerous place, but what she had on then likely wouldn’t have been any better. it was a detective get up minus a similar coat to nick’s, but it wasn’t anything she could complain about. the holsters were actually practical, especially the one strapped to her thigh. it wasn’t bullet proof by any means of course, but it was light. she continued on while adjusting the collar. she felt good in it. is that what nick felt like? 

  ❝ looks more like somethin’ that would belong ta’ you, but hell maybe i don’t look too bad. ❞

[tempesttragedya]

@aamusedly​ sent  # for Devil in Celia’s phone                     

- what your muse’s name is in mine’s phone          

pain in the ass  

- what your muse’s picture is in mine’s phone  

likely a simple picture of him walking, like this, taken from a distance because she would never admit to making him an actual contact in her phone.                    

- what your muse’s ringtone is in mine’s phone                        

  the men who rule the world by Garbage; specifically the first few lines.

- my muse’s last text to your muse

[ sms: 11:30 pm ] don’t touch the alcohol in the safehouse.  [ sms: 11:35 pm ] ... please. [ sms: 11:36 pm ] that ‘please’ was written under duress. disregard.

[captain-wrench-wench]

◈   TAG NINE PEOPLE YOU’D LIKE TO KNOW BETTER!

I’m Jo~

favourite colour(s): green! So much so that my hair is currently green :D

favourite flavour(s): sour fruits, salty things, good chocolate, cinnamon candies

favourite genre(s): Southern Gothic

favourite music: honestly I’ll listen to just about anything, but I do tend to listen to a lot of alt/indie rock. I have a David Gray tattoo...

favourite movie(s): The Great Escape, The Addams Family & The Addams Family Values, Francis Ford Coppola’s version of Dracula...

favourite series: Criminal Minds

last song: “Sleeping on the Blacktop” by Colter Wall

last series: Wednesday

last movie: The Pale Blue Eye. bit on the slow side but holy eff it was good!

currently reading: a stack of research books for my novel

currently watching: really need to finish “The Devil In Ohio”

currently working on: figuring out chapter 5 of my novel

tagged by: @aamusedly

tagging: Whoever wants!!!

[starfoam]

64 BABYYYYYYY

Being Unable To Open Their Eyes For A Few Moments Afterward 

I'm gonna assume this one was for Devil and post accordingly... better prepare >:3 @aamusedly

"You're doing this on purpose."

"You'll have to be more specific."

"Stop turning your head!"

"Stop holding my jaw."

"I can't stop holding your jaw if you don't stop turning your head."

This was... interesting. It was absolutely torrential outside, and her place had been closer than his (if he even had a central 'place' and not just multiple bases, she still wasn't clear). He had jokingly suggested a sleepover, and she had jokingly taken him up on the offer. And attempt at movie night had been initiated, but they were both distracted from Die Hard and he had wandered into her bathroom to mess with her stuff.

And...

Okay, no, she couldn't justify her way up to this. They were back on the couch, McClain was crawling through a vent, and Lo was sitting in his lap and trying to put lipstick on Devil's constantly-moving mouth.

Had they been talking about drag? Her fashion choices? She couldn't remember. All she knew was she'd started trying to put a two-tone on him standing up, and he'd moved. She's knelt down next to him and he'd moved again. Straddling him had gotten a comment that had made her almost put the makeup away, and now she was just... trying to hold him in place, Yeah.

Not that it was working. Lo's hand moved against his chin, and a smear of candy apple red painted a bit of his stubble along with his bottom lip. Lo groaned and went for the makeup wipe.

"Do you want the lipstick or not?"

"I want to watch you squirm some more, actually." Lo rolled her eyes; this wasn't expensive makeup, at the very least, or she'd be much more upset. She wiped his bottom lip, and saw Devil smirk a little under her finger. "You're enjoying this."

"Not you wasting my makeup!" She opened the tube and tried again; this time it went on without issue, and she all but sighed in relief. The cap snapped back on. "Okay, halfway done. Do you want black, dark red, or a wine color for the top?"

"Which one do you find the most kissable?" She finally looked up at his eyes; he looked a little odd with only one lip painted, but he wore it with the confidence of a king.

Or a very convincing actor. She pondered the question.

"...If we use black, it'd be too much like mine. No experimentation in that. I'm thinking the wine color." Pop goes the lid of the other tube. This time Devil holds still, parting his lips a little; Lo carefully painted it on, swiping away a tiny smudge in the corner with her thumb. She pulled back and closed the tube, taking him in.

It... did not look bad, actually. She might have liked it more if it were a lighter color or he had some foundation - the candy red stuck out a bit against natural, sweat-slicked skin - but Devil looked comfortable as could be, and - she had to admit - quite handsome.

"Well, don't keep me in suspense over here." Lo barely registered him taking the hand mirror from a nearby table, turning his head to one side as he took himself in. "Not bad. I might have to steal your colors next." He looked back at her, and the painted smile widened. "What are you willing to bet I can wear it better than you?"

The thought entered her head with the quickness and urgency of the lightning outside. She set the tube down.

"...Lo?"

His eyes widened; she had to imagine her hands coming at his face might have looked like an attack for just a moment. But then her lips were on his, and her breath was on his skin, and she felt the slightest smear of color on color. He made a noise, just for a moment - and then his hand was on the back of her head, and she was pulled into a straddle on top of him, his other hand cradling the small of her back.

She wasn't sure which one of them pulled away first. For a moment she couldn't open her eyes; instead she focused on his body underneath her, her thigh against his waist, his shirt bunched up in her taut-knuckle grip. But then she did open them - and saw a black and plum stain against his mouth, just as she was sure there were wine and red smears across hers.

"...Not bad," she said after a moment, as Devil opened his eyes to look at her, "I think you wear it well."

And then she went in for another.

Bonus:

[spakonamoved]

“All men are at least 30% attracted to me.” 

Kaldar’s got his hands shoved into his pockets. It’s easy enough to offer The Devil a blank sort of look, one either done with or nonplussed by the shenanigans. It’s easy enough to tell regardless, considering his temper stays contained. Maybe he’s even in a good mood about it.

“5%,” is all he says.

@aamusedly , b99

[spakonamoved]

He feels complicated. About everything. About nothing. About where he is and what his path to hell now looks like. He’s alone in it, just like he should be. Doesn’t like the idea of dragging people along for the ride. Collateral, that was a word he’d read once. Followed up in a dictionary about it. Something paid back when something went wrong.

His luck, always something went wrong. Easier to fix it when it’s just him. He’s got his mind all made up about it. Only thing keeping him from walking out the door is a frantic pace of a man who knows peace even less than Kaldar does.

It’s because Kaldar’s made peace with his lack of peace, so he thinks to himself. That’s the difference. He knows what’s waiting, and he accepts it with open arms. It’ll kill him, but he’s okay with it. Ready to go -- he’s been ready to go for a long, long time. He isn’t even thirty yet.

There isn’t any reason to work together anymore. His usual seat in the bar is his last one, the glass in front of him filled with lemon lime soda like it usually is. He’s never had a drop of liquor to drink, and he never will. Not as a crutch, not as a celebration, not as a goodbye. It really isn’t all that complicated. He knows what’s next. Trying to be smarter than he is is really a waste of time.

Kaldar stands up, and that’s when it’s clear. He’s not changing his mind. No matter the ethos, pathos, or logos. Kurdan will die. Cooper will die. Every last person they throw at him will die. Until Kaldar’s dead, he can’t stop doing the one thing he was meant to do. He doesn’t know how to be anything else. Maybe he doesn’t want to.

He meets The Devil’s look, the twist of his face like a sneer contrasting with the stony resolve of Kaldar, obscured by the shadow of his hood. The way he holds Kaldar by the shoulders conflicts with the way Kaldar’s hands ball into fists, ready to punch back. Scared. Angry. Haunted. Jealous.

The Devil leans in, his lips against Kaldar’s in a weird game of chicken. A threat Kaldar didn’t think he’d make good on. It’s complicated. The tension in the air seems to deflate all at once, like a balloon popping. Complicated. Kaldar’s never kissed anybody before. Devil looks like he’s just been slapped. Kaldar scowls like it wasn’t the Devil that started it. Complicated.

And it doesn’t stop being complicated as Kaldar looks at the man like he wants to fight him, but grabs him by the collar to kiss him instead.

It’s clumsy. It’s messy. It’s angry and lost and honest. The Devil tastes like liquor and cigarettes. Now he knows what they taste like. It’s the only way he’ll drink it.

“Forget me.” He grunts, pushes him back with all the strength he can muster, “You did your job. Time for me to do mine.” 

And he walks out the door.

an accidental kiss that confuses you both, but only a moment pass before you crash your lips back against each other's    /     the devil @aamusedly​

[spakonamoved]

@aamusedly sent: ‘ i’m not straight. and i’m not gay. i’m bi. bi myself. ‘ devil @ kaldar because i'm sorry

Kaldar merely stares at the Devil for a second, a slight furrow in his brow grows, as do the wrinkle in his nose. One of the corners of his mouth pulls back into something confused, and almost annoyed at being so.

“No you’re not,” He replies indignantly, “I’m sitting here, too.”

[silentshadowmancer]

@aamusedly for Devil

“Devil,” Seline quietly called out to her guest as soon as she stepped through the door. He had been staying with her for several days while he recovered from the car bombing that had been intended to kill him. It was odd for the dragoness to share her living space with anyone much less a man who had tried to kill her only weeks before. She had refrained from mentioning how vulnerable his knowledge of her aerie made her; his presence here displaying a level of trust that she hadn’t afforded anyone in decades.

It was probably a stupid move. She would likely regret it in the end but she needed his aid to ensure that she could survive long enough to regret something.

“I have some news regarding our enemy if you would care to hear it.”

[silentshadowmancer]

@aamusedly for Devil

Seline had been keeping tabs on their enemies as best she could and as far as her contacts could tell her, they believed that Devil was dead. Perfect. That meant they would either drop their guard or they would ruthlessly seek her out to end her life as well.

She could only pity them in that case. She had always been a mere shadow in this city since she had come, solitary and elusive. Up until a few days ago no one had known where she lived. Did he truly realize how much she had bared by taking him in? If he didn't, the dragoness wasn't about to tell him. And if he asked...well, she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

Sliding through the door with her usual quiet grace, she closed and locked it behind her. "Anyone home?" She called out, a bit of a teasing in her voice. She had at least managed to get her guest a few things to make his stay more comfortable and now she had brought food.

[silentshadowmancer]

@aamusedly

Answer to here

Seline had been keeping track of Devil in a passive sort of way since they had agreed to work together. It wasn't even out of distrust of his motives. The shadow that tailed him wouldn't pick up on what he did or said. All it was there for was to alert for danger. Even if she were strong enough in magic to cast anything but the most minor of spells beyond the manipulation of shadows, the dragoness doubted any would actually stick to him much less be effective.

No, she tracked his shadow for a different purpose. Their lives were on the line and if she wanted to see this cult ended she needed Devil's help. And he was, just by nature, more out in the open than herself.

So when that silent alarm shrieked inside of her head the dragoness didn't hesitate in leaving her home to follow her trace back to the origin.

She hissed in her breath at the sight. It didn't take a genius to tell what had occured, not with the flickering flames in the shattered remains of a car. And yet, the street was strangely quiet. Emergency crews should have been on their way, their sirens breaking up the usual city sounds. But nothing yet. And there, past the scent of burning gasoline and rubber she could smell blood.

Carefully picking her way through the blast zone, Seline followed her nose to where Devil lay. Shockingly, considering the damage strewn about the street, he still lived. And was alive enough to move and speak although clearly not coherent or sighted enough to recognize her as she walked up to him.

"Peace, Devil." She stated as she crouched down to take stock of his injuries. "It's Seline." It was bad, but not as bad as it could have been. He was fortunate that she had thought to grab the first aid kit she owned on her way out. She needed to stop the bleeding as soon as she could, especially if whoever had set the explosive decided to finish the job while he was here helpless and before any actual medic could arrive.

Her voice remained calm as she started to find the worst of the wounds, hiding her dismay at the amount of blood. If she could keep him conscious he had a better chance of survival. It wasn't likely that any normal human would have endured what she could see. "What happened?"