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prurientpuddlejumper · 4 years

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Guerrerita, Part 3

<- Part 2

Summary: The first time you met Nevada Ramirez was also in a dark alley.

1,577 words

“You owe me.”

“What?” you hissed, whipping around to face the threatening voice. You kept your face hard, showing no sign of weakness, even as you saw the three intimidating men who had followed you into the alley outside a shady, semi-legal MMA tournament.

“I had a lot of money riding on that fight,” said the shortest of the three, tsk-tsking. His shoes were shiny black leather—expensive, but tacky. He held a cigarette between his teeth when he wasn’t speaking and wore all black except for the gold cross flashing around his neck, pendant resting in a bed of dark chest hair. The two flanking him were bulky heavyweights, over six feet, at least two hundred-fifty pounds a piece, which meant you probably couldn’t take them. Not both at once. They dwarfed the center guy, but they were waiting on his signal to do anything. The small one was the brains. The boss. He was the one you had to keep your eyes on.

“So what? Not my problem.”

You shrugged your gym bag over you shoulder and turned to leave, but his goons stepped forward sharply, ready to grab you, and you thought better of it. As much as you’d rather not show them you were scared, this was the kind of dangerous you didn’t turn your back on.

“Oh, sweetheart. You think I’m playing? You come into my town, looking like a nervous mousy little rookie. Oh, pobrecita bebita, que tierna,” he mocked baby-talk at you, pouting his lips. “Get everyone betting against you, then the bell rings and you turn into a wild fucking animal. You run a hustle on my turf? Way I see it, that is your problem.”

Your left nostril began to twitch and the corner of your mouth curled into a snarl. “Then get some fucking glasses.” A small voice inside begged frantically, don’t do this now, calm down, but it was already drowned out by a dark, reckless pulsing in your ears. You didn’t like being threatened. Somewhere along the line your stubborn refusal to take any more shit from assholes turned into a fury you couldn’t control, that overrode your own self-preservation. Your bruised fists curled for another fight.

The boss just laughed, a harsh, barking, sarcastic show of power. His men stayed put, for now. “What a dirty mouth. Little warrior here, huh? I like that, I like that.” He prowled toward you, a crooked smirk without teeth bending his neatly trimmed stubble. If he wasn’t such a scumbag you would have called him handsome. Maybe that was what kept you at bay, apart from the knowledge that the second you launched yourself at him in a hail of fists, the two big guys would kill you—because his face was too pretty to bloody up. “Guerrerita, you don’t know who you’re fucking with.”

“You want money, go after the bookies. They’re the ones making bank,” you challenged, taking a few backwards steps to keep distance from him. “I don’t know what kind of hustle you think I’m running, but I bet my last fifty bucks on myself and I’ll still be lucky to make rent. I am not giving a cut to some wannabe gangsters.” You planted your feet at the spot where the alley curved and some old shipping crates created a pinch-point where your smaller size might afford some advantage, and refused to back off another inch.

He stopped, keeping several feet of distance, too. Taking one last drag, he threw his cigarette butt down and crushed it out.

“I’m the King of the Heights, sweetheart,” he explained, as if that should mean anything to you. “Nevada Ramirez.” He extended a hand to shake, and you dropped into a defensive stance. You didn’t like the way he looked you up and down, scrutinizing you with a gaze that made goosebumps rise along your arms. Your muscles twitched in anger and terror, and you tried to balance the two emotions so you could maybe get home in one piece.

“Alright, Mr. Ramirez. Why don’t you and your boys back the fuck off and let me go home. Because you try to follow me, rough me up? I promise it won’t be worth your time. You watched me fight. Before your boys back there can take me down, I’ll have your balls shoved down your goddamn throat. And yeah, you can have your boys shoot me dead.” You noticed the muscle had reached for concealed weapons the moment their boss got within range of your fists. “But what a waste. I’ve never done anything to you. I’m not a threat to your… kingdom? Not unless you attack me first. So why don’t we both just go about our merry ways in peace?”

He laughed again. Dry. Harsh. Your defiance entertained him, but he was growing impatient.

“What makes you think you can tell me how to run this town?” The hard edge to his voice raised the hairs on the back of your neck. As much as you liked to think you’d hit rock bottom and didn’t give a damn anymore, you’d never been murdered. As many impulsive fights as you’d gotten yourself into, you had never been so sure that losing would result in your body in a bag. He smiled when you had no more snappy comebacks, relishing the growing fear in your eyes. His posture opened up, suddenly all friendly. “You’ve got me all wrong. No one’s gonna kill you, guerrerita.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I want to know what’s a high-class broad like you doing here?” He raised his eyebrows. His knowing grin sent a jolt down your spine, and he looked satisfied by your reaction, which confirmed his assumption.

Nevada could read people, and he could smell suburbs on you. Nice house. Good family. Educated. White picket fence and a dog. Apparently he couldn’t smell the trauma or the failed stint in the Marines thanks to your occasional but fun penchant for sucker punching assholes without thought to rank.

“What’s it to you?” Your teeth ground together. Like hell you’d ever tell him that story.

“You owe me for that stunt in there. And I know how you can pay me back.”

Now it was your turn to laugh. “Good luck if you think my family will pay you ransom. You think I’d be here if—”

“Work for me.”

Your mind went blank. For several seconds you stared, wondering if you’d heard him right. Finally you blurted incredulously, “What?”

“Come work for me, and we call your debt even.” He looked you up and down again with a smirk. “Bet you clean up into some nice arm candy, classy girl like you.”

You took another step back despite yourself, stomach turning. “No fucking way. I don’t need a pimp, and if you even think of touching me I swear to fucking god...” Your voice turned into a threatening snarl as disgust turned to rage. Your muscles twitched, ready to do as much damage to his handsome, jeering face as possible before being killed. You would rather die than go through that again.

“Whoah, easy,” Nevada laughed, putting his hands up in surrender, but with enough dripping mockery to make it a power move. “Nothing like that. Security.”

“Security?”

“You get knocked in the head too many times?” he raised his eyebrows over his shoulder back at his guys, and they laughed along like trained seals. “Think about where you are. You just won a contest for beating the shit outta people. Security.”

“You want me to be a bodyguard?”

“Now she gets it,” he smiled, and it was pure delight. “Enforcers that look the part are a dime a dozen—face full of scars, covered in macho tats. They send a certain message, don’t they? Usually the intimidating shit is what you want. But some situations call for a bit more… nuance than these pendejos.” He jerked his thumb toward the giant brawlers still lurking behind him. One of them sulked. “You could be subtle. When business requires I don’t advertise I brought muscle. Imagine it,” his tongue darted over his lower lip. “Put you in a dress two sizes too small, and nobody sees you coming until your fist is through their skull. I bet folks underestimate you all the time.”

You almost laughed that the idea of protecting him when he must have known you’d just as soon put a fist through his skull. Working with criminals didn’t sit well with you. Though your life had been one downhill spiral since all the shit that kicked you off your shining life trajectory, you had never done anything illegal. If you didn’t count misdemeanor battery. Which you didn’t. You only punched assholes who deserved it. And you were fairly sure this Nevada Ramirez character deserved it. You didn’t trust him, and you did not take well to being shaken down.

But then he said people underestimated you. His eyes were the color of the sky before thunder: bright, ominous, and flashing dangerously. And when he said it, his bright eyes locked straight onto yours, like he knew. For the first time in your life, it felt like someone was seeing you, the deepest parts of you, and actually liked what he saw.

You didn’t have much of a choice, anyway. It was either accept the job, or have some drug kingpin sic his enforcers on you for your last dollar.

“What do you need me to do?”

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

Tags: @beccabarba @caked-crusader @itsjustmyfantasyroom @thatesqcrush @dianilaws @permanentlydizzy @eclecticreader2020 @mrsrafaelbarba @da-po

#nevada ramirez x reader #Nevada ramirez #Raúl Esparza #Trouble in the Heights #my writing

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all-or-nothing-baby · 5 years

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Would love to see you do U with Destiel

Mini-fic prompt-fill. The letter U is "Coming Home".

@avidbkwrm For you, Spencer... here you go, my friend <3

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The Last Time

Tags: Dean POV, Modern AU, Drug and Alcohol Misuse, Prostitution, Hurt With Comfort, Angst With A Happy Ending.

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Getting back to his shitty apartment afterwards was always the worst part.

It wasn't the peeling wallpaper that bothered Dean. He didn't care that there were only bare floorboards splashed with spilled paint in the bathroom. Couldn’t even give a shit that the wet rot, in the corner above the sofa, was probably the cause of his perpetual cough. And yeah, okay, so he knew the fuck-ton of weed he smoked, on top of the booze, didn’t exactly help. And no, it didn’t exactly make him forget, either. But it did help him to give less of a shit about how shitty he felt.

...until the next time.

Cas was a drug. Dean had known it from the start, had known he shouldn’t get involved. Known he’d end up losing people too, if he did. And he had. But fuck, after that first time? He was hooked. A junkie. Now, he was so far fucking gone it was scary because being with Cas was better than anything Dean had ever had. And whenever Dean wasn’t tangled up in sheets and smiles, all sticky, with him? He was in hell. Especially right afterwards… the instant craving was unbearable. Still tasting his sharp citrusy taste; smelling of bubble gum and baby wipes, just like him; running his rough fingertips over the pink and tender places he'd been claimed. Yeah, Cas was the drug Dean didn’t know how to quit. And Jesus, he didn’t want to, which was worse.

Yet still, at first, he'd swear every visit was the last.

…until the next time.

Dean had lived all over, growing up. Cheap hotels and motels, trailer parks. And worse. Never knew what it was to settle and lay roots. Cas told him he'd been raised the polar opposite: huge family, a single home his whole life. Until his folks had found out he liked dicks not chicks and tried to bible-bash it outta him, quite literally. Cas had left and never contacted them again. And it turned out, being where he was now was better than being on the streets.

Really don't know why I'm telling you all this, he'd said to Dean after only the second time. Maybe it's just those kind eyes? he'd smiled. But I'm sorry, you're not paying to hear about my screwed-up life in a sob-story… want me to fuck you now, baby?

Dean had never gone with a sex worker before. Hated the idea—not for him, exactly, but for them. The idea that some people thought they were worth so little that they'd sell themselves? It horrified him. But walking out that bar that night and seeing that dark, unruly hair and those blue, blue eyes heading straight for him, coming for him...

Hey, beautiful, wanna spend the night with an angel?

No such thing, Dean had tried. But it had come out as a question, a challenge. An almost prove me wrong, please—and with a smile he couldn't have helped if he'd tried.

The man—dressed in a long coat, black boots and tight jeans; the crispest of white shirts with a low slung tie; and an eight o'clock shadow Dean instantly craved to leave a tingle on his inside thighs—had smiled back and said, that's your problem, beautiful. You have no faith.

By the time Dean had left the No-Tell room later that night—left Jimmy, as he'd called himself back then—Dean was born again. His belief suddenly so strong, he'd gone back to his apartment and goddammit he'd prayed.

But for the days that followed, the guilt was overwhelming. Dean had hoped beyond hope he'd be strong enough to stay away from the stranger he now wanted to help; to take away from this dangerous life, this mess Jimmy had gotten himself into... No. Dean told himself he wouldn't go back. It was wrong, on so many levels. Shit, he didn't even know the guy from Adam and yet, what, he wanted to save him?

Dean actually did actually managed to keep his distance, for a time. For a little while, he thought sense had won out.

...until the next time.

After that, Dean became fucking devout. Being with Jimmy—with Cas—very quickly became more than a one-sided thing… it became about not just fucking, but enjoying each other. Them tasting and devouring each other. Holding out for one another. Worshipping each other. Had the tables now turned? Was Cas really the angel he'd said he was and Dean, the sinner who needed saving? For the two hours a week that Dean could barely afford, Dean was happy. They'd often spend time just talking, tracing patterns on the others skin. As contradictory and ironic as it was, being with Cas? It honest to God felt holy. Dean was a better man when with him. Wanted to do better because of him. Felt more himself than he ever had before. And soon, inevitably, every time he'd leave Cas, it was ten times harder than the last.

...until the next time.

The night Dean saw the bruises was the night he'd started thinking seriously about it.

Doesn't usually happen, Cas had promised. Like it was nothing. Dean called bullshit, his voice tinged with anger. But he was mostly completely fucking heartbroken. He felt helpless. Dean had kissed each purpling mark with gentle lips and stroked that untamable hair for over his allotted time slot. Paid the extra. Told Cas dumb jokes that Cas laughed at regardless. They watched some TV together on Dean's phone, tied up like a pretzel.

Turned out Cas had... refused to fulfill some specific act and the disgruntled john had complained to Cas' twisted pimp, Naomi, who'd then set her muscle on him. They were supposed to just scare me a little—well, a lot, Cas had smiled sadly. Maybe swirlie me or choke me out, you know? They weren't supposed to beat him. To mark him. He'd admitted, the clients don't like that—well, most of them, anyways. Some were sicker fucks than others. After ten months, Dean knew that by now.

Soon after, Dean had started working longer shifts at the restaurant, always asking for overtime. It meant they sometimes couldn't meet, or maybe only had an hour together instead of two, what with Cas' workload being not exactly flexible. It was tough. And maybe not just on Dean? Cas almost seemed disappointed whenever Dean told him he wouldn't be seeing him as usual. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on Dean's part. He'd thought they'd had a connection but... Dean didn't have the words to ask. So he'd just hoped Cas understood. He seemed to, mostly. But sometimes, he'd get that look in those baby-blues. The one that said, you've lost faith in me Dean. And, at one point, Dean worried this just couldn't work. That maybe he'd lost what little faith he had in himself. That Cas probably had no faith in Dean to begin with.

...until the next time.

Dean wasn't sure if it had been a slip. An accidental admission. He'd been so close, so many times, to uttering the words himself. But he'd never imagined Cas letting his guard down in that way. And honestly? Dean had stopped allowing himself to think about the possibility of it being a reality at all.

I love you Dean, Cas had whispered in a breath. And then Dean found that he couldn't breathe at all, the air in his lungs leaving in a rush. Time stopped and for a moment everything was the way it should be. Just them and this…. and then Dean realised, Cas probably just needed the money. Wanted Dean to start coming back more regularly because he always paid well. Dean treated Cas well, too. And what if the other clients were rougher, meaner? Yeah, these things. Dean knew they were the real reason Cas had said what he'd said. Not some accidental slip.

But it didn't really matter, not to Dean. He'd already made up his mind. So, he'd said nothing. Pretended he hadn't heard.

...until the next time.

Dean packed up the few things he owned. Left all the crappy furniture he'd accumulated in the equally crappy apartment he hated, got in his car and didn't look back.

They made love, because he knew it would probably be the last time. Dean savoured every second with Cas. Hoped his long licks and trembling bites, soft moans and desperate squeezes told Cas everything Dean knew he still had to say, so he wouldn't have to… but, as astute as his angel in a trench coat was, Cas couldn't read minds.

So, Dean dressed. Then, chewing at his bottom lip, emptied the bag he'd brought with him onto the bed. Cas' eyes blew wide at the sight of all the bills that spilled from Dean's largest duffle.

I can't do this, Cas, he blurted. Can't let my decisions be controlled by some high and mighty less-than-human asshole anymore. So I'm... leaving. And I ain't comin' back... and he only stopped to take a breath, steal his courage, because there was more to the speech he'd planned—but Cas cut him off there.

It's okay, I was waiting for this. Knew it was probably coming, Cas said flatly. Then he spat, but, Dean, do you really think I want your fucking money? God, I was so foolish to think that maybe you... Just, please leave, Dean. Leave and let me keep the ounce of dignity I'm managing to hang on to. Cas turned away from Dean now. Wouldn't let him see those pretty blue eyes.

Then Dean said it. Cas, I want you to come with me. Don't know where, but I wanna get you outta this.

Dean knew he had to do more. Say more. Cas needed the words neither had really spoken; had rarely been said to either of them. Hell, Dean needed to say them just as much.

Not able to look directly at the man who meant everything to him—too scared, too cowardly—Dean said, I love you, Cas. Like nothing else. And I know you only said it to me 'cause you thought you had to... but it's okay. I don't mind that you don't. I just wanna… I gotta help you be safe, man. Away from here. Please let me. Then you can go wherever you like, do whatever you wanna and I'll—

A small sob cut Dean's speech short. He looked up at Cas as, terrified his words had maybe had the opposite effect. But Cas flew at Dean, threw arms around Dean's neck and held onto him, speaking quiet yes, yes, yeses, into the shoulder of Dean's leather jacket.

They left via the fire escape.

...it was the last time.

Dean drove them into and through the night, Cas gripping his free hand tightly, not letting go. Not even once.

After two more days on the road, when they were about to leave the state, Dean asked Cas, where to?

Cas said, take me home.

Unsure of what it meant but sure about this—about them—Dean asked, where is home, sweetheart? because he knew he'd do whatever it took to be with this man.

Cas looked out of the window for a moment and smiled. Then, laughing gently, he looked back at Dean and told him, anywhere you take me, baby.

#destiel #destiel fic #deancas #deancas fic #modern au #tw: mentions of drug misuse #tw: alcohol #tw: prostitution #hurt with comfort #angst with a happy ending #long post #the last time #my words #lucy's writing #all-or-nothing-writes #all-or-nothing-baby #ask prompt #prompt fill #for my lovely friend

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suga-kookiemonster · 4 years

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Ok Ashley, first of all when I saw the gif you used, I know you were about to FUCK ME UPPPP. Alright bubs, buckle up this is gon be a RIDE cus phew I am the biggest hoe for ego. I’ve literally re-read the whole series MULTIPLE TIMES and it’s never NOT funny, like I still cackle at the same jokes every damn time. Anyways, yes let’s get it. I love how you’ve used common tropes like fuckboy!jk, fratboy!jk, college au, F2L, and onebed, but have completely made it your own. Like I feel like even if

you posted your work under some other pen name, I’d still recognize your style and work. You have a very specific voice? Very “YOU” BRAND of writing and that’s probably one of the HARDEST things to achieve as a writer. Mc is a delight and the way she be low key losing her cool over sleepin in the same bed as kook has me cryin cus girl I FEEL YA. “just a t-shirt advertising your university’s Segway club that you had swiped off a table for free during freshman orientation” HAHAHA mc and I are the

same fuckin people is2g cus free is for me. ALSO DUDE, “Jungkook softly, but audibly inhaled, like he was gearing up to say something of importance” BUT WHAT WAS HE GOING TO SAY?! I need to know, it’s for science. Also, high key endeared that he calls he “noona” cus I’m a pervy old lady and a lady could dream ok. Yes, now we get to the good stuffs, cus motherfucker would I love to wake up to kook’s morning wood wow he really be like a man buffet- he’s both cute and dashingly sexy. “attempting to

smooth your expression into one of ignorant unconsciousness as adrenaline pounded through you. Your eyes were closed, but that didn’t stop you from feeling his close proximity as he gingerly leaned over you to scope out your face” OMFG THE WAY MY BLOOD PRESSURE SKYROCKETED. Ngl been there and it’s SO uncomfortable like can he NOT feel my heart falling right outta my ass??? Kudos to mc for keeping composure (cus I wasn’t able to oops) kinda interested in what the situation woulda looked like had

he known she was awake tho?? “really? … fucking really gonna do this now?” HAHAH OMG “the way he was using the clothes he had apparently grabbed from his bag to hide his crotch from your view” the consistency in your writing is SO IMPRESSIVE like… when I read ego I see it as a move in my head bc of all these small, but important, details. They both migrated towards each other uwu that is SO CUTE, esp with kook as the big spoon wrapped all around her ughhh my heart. And the way she grabbed a

plate of food for baby boy has me SO ENDEARED, it’s so sweet the way she’s thinking of him and his favorite food. Ok, BUT CAN WE TALK ABOUT NAMJOON AND LISA, cus Namjesus they totally boned that night didn’t they?! The whole breakfast scene had me ROLLING “jungkookie lost his hands in a tragic paragliding accident” and “…like he was sitting there smiling at you, eyes sparkling like he was a big titty anime girl?” honestly, I gotta hand it to you, there has been no fic that makes me laugh the way

ego does. The dialogue, the pop culture references (re: pimp my ride, fear factor, “Squidward”, etc), the humor KILLS ME. You seem like the funny af friend in the group. Like “baby wine doesn’t exist because that illegal. and, frankly, immoral.” “But I would just like to state for the record that I’m the one who passed through her vagina.” “Tore it too, from what I hear” HAHA OMFG THEIR BANTER IS A+ bff shitting on each other and I’m living for it!!! The whole laser tag scene was pure gold.

The way lisa started opening up, jk’s cocky ass, mc/joon’s mess of team work, the way jungkook calls mc “babe” instead of “noona” (what’s with that anyways? He wanna be seen as manlier or something??), the return of the god of destruction, “Yeah, well you also have no upper lip” HAHAHAHA ok but I actually love jk’s sparce upper lip and buck teeth, it’s just so SWEET &ENDEARING. “You watched his tongue roll in his cheek as he considered you. It was sexy” HELL MFING YES IT’S SO SEXY!! I love this

characterization of jk- he’s very layered. He’s sweet, charming, sexy, dumb af, and annoying all at the same time which makes him feel vvv real to me. And now the smut. The fact that they’re in the same position as the other morning, but unlike last time, she’s ready to do something about it. The mouth on that boy omg reminds me of “do you kiss your mom with that mouth?” from an earlier chapter phew. I love that he’s focused on prepping her with all the grinding and fingering. While v sexy, also

shows he cares about her pleasure in that he wants her to enjoy penetration. The bit when he’s just dazed when she’s urging him to get a condom has me chuckling- is he THAT shook that it’s actually happening?? “He slid the rubber on with shaky hands.” Makes me think that he’s both nervous and excited and it’s more than just one time fucking to him. And the way she asks to ride him phew, she really be LIVIN THE DREAM that’s my ultimate fantasy let’s be real until he opens his dumb mouth “Hop on.

Please remember to fasten your seatbelt and for your safety keep all items stowed beneath the seat in front of you until after takeoff” OMFG HE’S SO ANNOYING HAHAHA “You placed another kiss on a pebbled nipple, intrigued when you heard him swallow a moan. Emboldened, you circled it with your tongue, scratched it lightly with your teeth. Jungkook whined, and the sound shot straight to your clit” FUCK THAT’S HOT. I am 10/10 a hoe for nipple play. Holy shit, and the way he pulled outta her cus he

knew he wasn’t going to make it in time for her to cum too, so he opts to eat her out first. We LOVE a man who prioritizes female pleasure!! Hnng and the way she agrees to continue fucking even after she’s already came and the way kook just GOES TO FUCKING TOWN ON THAT PUSS had my vag ROLLINGGGG damn I really feel bad for whoever is sharing a wall with them rn cus that headboard RIP my heart “I win” wtf dude his pillow talk SUCKS ASS. Just when she thinks she’s not just a game to him, he pulls

this shit. It’s probably just a dumb af joke cus we know my bby be competitive as all hell and also ain’t that smart, but damn. Not. The. Time. UGHHHH I just want to squish their faces together and be like "TALK TO EACH OTHER PLS- this is all a terrible misunderstanding" TL;DR my panties are wet, my heart is broken, and I kinda wanna knee kook in the balls. Thank you for this update!! Masterpieces are ALWAYS worth the wait!! It's bitter sweet that ego is comin to the end. Sending all my love

PHEWWWWW, THIS REVIEW!! 😭😭💕we still have one part left, so i’m not gonna confirm or deny any of your assumptions. but OMG, i’m so touched that my work left this big of an impression on you! your commentary made me smile so big 😩😩😩 truly, thank you so much for enjoying my wacky fic and my wacky characters. it really means a lot to know that people love my babies as much as i do, and that they’re actually as invested in the storyline as i am. ego was my first fic for the bts fandom, so she’s really special to me and it makes me happy that others enjoy her 🤧💕 and that you enjoy my writing style 😭😭😭pls 😭😭😭

thank you again for your sweet words. hopefully i can finish ch 8 sooner than later!

#fic: ego #lcksndkys #asks

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cruddyborderlandstheories · 4 years

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THE SEEIN’ DEAD MOD IS A BAND-AID FIX

gearbox locked zane’s lazy fix behind a paywall

tl;dr: for the love of god, the seein’ dead class mod should be what the seein’ red capstone is and vice versa. also. MORE SYNERGY. also i redesigned all of Zane’s trees and augments for more synergy you’re welcome.

is 1am and i don’t want tomorrow and im angry and thinking about borderlands so this seems like the perfect time to immerse myself in remaking Zane’s skill trees (for the 5th time). mainly because some of zane’s skills are still irking me and i’ve written extensive essays for the bl3 subreddit about the seein’ dead class mod and just playing around with zane’s skills in general, but i don’t think i’ve ever posted here before about it. so here we are. i notice i usually save lore/theories/characterizations for this blog and meta/balancing/gear talk for reddit. not sure why that’s a split for me.

now i’ve remade zane’s skills a number of times, but honestly this was all before the seein’ dead mod was released. then, instead of fixing his skill trees, i wrote a lot of essays about why that mod was a terrible bad decision on gearbox’s part (you can read one of the shorter arguments in a comment from 5 months ago here). I’m just gonna remake the skill trees now with all his current abilities in mind.this post really should be titled: ALL THE PROBLEMS WITH THEIR BALANCING DECISIONS

so imma just talk for a bit about why i love/hate the seein’ dead class mod.

Obviously it’s a god tier mod, and you see almost no zane builds without it, and no top tier, can solo m10 true takedown builds without it (unless ur like, the 1% of masochistic players, in which case i salute you). and while that obviously means its a good mod, it also shows the problems with all his other class mods and his skill trees in general.

They all kinda suck. and that wouldn’t be a problem, bc, hey, the seein’ dead mod is ez to get, just pop on over to the casino and kill a few baddies and they’ll drop like candy. Which is really awesome!

slight problem.

the dlc is locked behind a PAYWALL

now this is a problem because if zane was a top tier character BEFORE the dlc, and everything was hunky dory and people weren’t on their knees begging for gearbox to fix Zane, then him getting a new badass class mod wouldn’t be such a big deal. but the problem was this was gearbox’s solution to giving Zane a buff.

they literally locked a buff for a character behind a pay wall.

I recommend Zane is every single person I try to convince to play bl3, but i always have to add this like, commercial-esque asterisk. you know, terms and conditions or, side effects or whatever. *you probably want to get the seein’ dead mod if you’re looking at end-game play because unless you wanna struggle that’s his only viable play style.

what if they don’t want to buy the dlc?! for real...

There’s also the point that this class mod makes his (arguably) BEST capstone obsolete. so we have distributed denial which literally no one uses because its broken, double barrel which is always traded for seein’ red or more points in other skills, and seein’ red, WHICH WAS MADE USELESS BY THIS CLASS MOD

gsfdhjikdhgdaskjfhgaskdfjh

okay and it wouldn’t even be so bad

IF THEY DIDN’T CHANGE HIS ENTIRE SKILL SET BEFORE RELEASE

like they lowered ALL his kill skills, then they turned Seein’ Red into his capstone instead of Death Follows Close, meaning they nerfed Death Follows Close so it could fit as just a game changer. my poor boy was g u t t e d.

so, imagine this, everyone is reaching the end-game content of bl3. it’s a month or 2 weeks or whatever after the game dropped and people are finally hitting level 50. and moze/fl4k/amara are all killin’ it, and the zane players have to work their ASSES off to do like... 50% of that damage output (now, they did also eventually nerf the crap outta moze and fl4k but the point stands).

so instead of gearbox going: “oh... shit that pre-release nerf was an awful idea, revert the changes guys” they decided to keep him gutted and then they released what was, in my opinion, a kick in the nuts with the maliwan takedown (aka the antifreeze mod, alongside the spiritual driver) ahahahahahaha. what good times it was. (I say this sarcastically.)

man i remember people were soooo livid with that class mod release. well, both of them. zane mains were pissed off (for good reason). “yes, let’s make the people who are begging for a straight damage increase jump through MORE hoops (LITERALLY) for a pitiful amount of damage. oh, also, let’s give their 28 skill point build to the strongest character in the game for free and also make it 10x better”. because it was 10x better than violent momentum (driver didn’t have a damage cap) until they fixed both the spiritual driver and the violent momentum skill. it was the worst of times.

i will note here they did, around this time, let zane have stackable kill skills, but it was only 2 stacks and also it was still *incredibly* difficult to achieve stacks because zane just. struggled to kill anything. I still remember when i grinded the shit outta an antifreeze class mod and it took me over 20 minutes to kill Wotan my first time solo on m4. Not the fight UP to wotan. literally. just killing wotan.

then the seein’ dead mod dropped and i had. a fuckin. 15 minute decrease to my time on killing wotan (5 minutes!!!!). now i am not perfect, and i 100% believe i could’ve lowered the time even more. but that... that shows a VERY CLEAR problem.

they never actually fixed zane, they gave him a class mod that’s stupid OP just to make sure he could hang on next to the other Vault Hunters. it’s just a bandaid fix. you remove the class mod, and he’s back to pre-jackpot power levels (which will NOT hold up at m10, let me tell you).

all his pre-jackpot problems are still here, and that’s why people are not using any other class mod of his. I bet we could have some really fun builds with the conductor mod! but nobody will ever use it because it’s just... not even close to the seein’ dead mod.

So what does the seein’ dead mod do that makes Zane so good?

IT BRINGS HIM BACK TO PRE-RELEASE VALUES

this mod, plus Death Follows Close, brings Zane back to pre-release zane. and i don’t understand how gearbox isn’t putting two and two together and going “Oh.”

it also is a BETTER VERSION of Seein’ Red!!! something players could have had at, like, level 15, but instead had to wait until they hit a capstone! the capstone is completely obsolete at this point. There is nothing seein’ red can give you that seein’ dead doesn’t do but better. Getting that capstone is a w a s t e of skill points.

AND they locked this fix behind a pay wall!!! i cannot say that enough. you don’t wanna get the handsome jackpot dlc?? guess u don’t wanna play zane at endgame then. too bad, so sad.

have i stated that enough? because it still blows my fuckin mind. THEY LOCKED A CHARACTER FIX BEHIND A PAYWALL

djhdgakjhakjdah. imagine playing without any prior knowledge and being like, aw man i love this zane character. can’t wait to get to max mayhem end game like all my favorite youtubers and friends!! then finding out you gotta drop 15 bucks or whatever it is just to actually be able to play at max mayhem level. that is not a skill difference, that is A BALANCING PROBLEM MY DUDES. like. my favorite zer0 build was still viable without the story DLCs. obviously grog > rubi, pimp > lyuda, rapier > law but, it was still fuckin viable.

guh. gufhgufhsdgkfjsdh. it bothers me.

ok so there��s a lot i just went over: my main issue? is that by making Seein’ Red a capstone, they did nothing to make it an actual legit capstone. They definitely nerfed Death Followed Close to make it a gamechanger, but they never gave Seein’ Red a buff to move it from a gamechanger to a capstone. It was the same exact skill. Seein’ Dead is what Seein’ Red SHOULD be and that’s what angers the crap outta me. they locked this obvious fix behind a pay wall (AND a gear slot!!!!!) n ur probably thinking ‘but cruddy this WAS really nice of them to try and fix zane... they could’ve just let him be suuc’ and like, yeah, they could’ve, and it is good they’re TRYING, but also, they’re leaving the people who DON’T buy the DLC high and dry.

keep in mind i DO own the dlc. have the season pass and everything. IM STILL MAD!!!

Zane should be strong no matter what class mod the players want to use. Same with Amara, same with Moze, same with Fl4k. FFS, it is not that hard. CHANGE THEIR SKILLS!!!!!

so im gonna be taking the time to go over all of zane’s skills and shit just to put him more on par with the others (WITHOUT THE SEEIN’ DEAD MOD)

imagine the seein’ dead mod doesn’t exist for this. we’re gonna make a balanced character since apparently THAT’S TOO HARD FOR A TRIPLE-A BALANCING TEAM

first things first, the tree with the most fuckin problems:

Under Cover

oh god this tree is a fucking train wreck what the hell were they thinking. good god. my eyes. they’re burning.

not actually, but it still kinda sucks.

Action Skill: Barrier is fine. I would not add the ‘picking it up decreases benefits’ when Zane’s whole schtick is running around fast. You get the full bonus no matter what form it’s in. also, you can hold down the action skill activation button to deploy the barrier directly on yourself.

Tier 1: Hearty Stock is a trap. never get this. so dumb. no synergy with his other skills. Adrenaline is okay, but not really great during end game. Ready For Action is similarly okay. Just a very MEH start to this tree.

Adrenaline: Zane gains increased Action Skill Cooldown Rate. 10% per level, up to 50%. this shouldn’t be tied to his shields being full because if your barrier is down (cooling DOWN)... your shield is taking damage. c’mon now. THINK GEARBOX T H I N K

Hearty Stock: (maxed) Zane and his clone gain 5% magazine regeneration while an action skill is active. This skill stacks. In it’s original state, this skill is such a trap skill. for real.

Ready For Action: i mean, it’s fine. We’ll keep it. +30% shield recharge rate and -29% (why????) recharge delay

Tier 2: ech. Stiff Upper Lip is not that good. Brain freeze is what u really want. Rise to the Occasion is also okay.

Brain Freeze: keep the same.

Stiff Upper Lip: when Zane is damaged with a hit that would break his shield, he gains (max) +20% bonus gun damage on his next shot through the barrier.

Rise to the Occasion: Zane and his clone gain health regeneration. +5% max health/s. Not determined by shield availability.

Tier 3: `screams in confident competence` oh lawd. this skill is good. the accuracy thing is kinda laughable. i tell you, i always thought that zane was originally meant to be the sniper with the Under Cover tree but they decided to swap Zane and Fl4k’s skills. which is why Zane has soooo many accuracy buffs.

Confident Competence: fine the way it is. I would also add, since this IS a game changer, that the Barrier’s damage amp is now 40%.

Tier 4: ew. tier 4. Really Expensive Jacket is literally the only skill you might want to get and EVEN THEN. ugh. Best Served Cold is so pointless. and so is Futility Belt. YOU TAKE MORE DAMAGE WITH IT

Really Expensive Jacket: Elemental Status Effects have reduced duration (-50%). Additionally, Zane is not slowed by Cryo anymore.

Best Served Cold: Remove the cooldown. Buff up the damage at least 200%. Make it an AOE Brain Freeze. That is, the cryo novas stack and if overkill damage is high enough, enemies hit with the novas freeze. Kinda like a discount Frozen Heart.

Futility Belt: HA. Ahahahahaha. Ha. Zane gains resistance to non-elemental and cryo damage (+15%). Futhermore, after killing an enemy, Zane’s barrier gains additional cryo damage (+20%) for 8s.

Tier 5: is oki. My only real complaint is with Nerves of Steel. Like. Seriously.

Refreshment: god tier skill actually. Keep the same.

Best Served Cold: also keep the same. The only change I will make is this: resetting your action skills’ cooldowns counts as action skill start and end.

Nerves of Steel: The longer Zane’s barrier is active, the more stacks of Nerves of Steel he gains (a maximum of 15). For each stack, Zane gains 2% shock damage, 2% cryo efficiency, and 1% damage to frozen enemies. (why shock damage? cryo doesn’t do well against shields.)

Tier 6: *cries in the worst capstone in the entire series* WHO DID THIS. WHY. WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU???

Distributed Denial: no. just. no. scrap this whole damn thing. IT DOESN’T EVEN WORK!!!! either fix it COMPLETELY or do something else. My recommendation? Whenever Zane throws down his barrier, his shield instantly begins recharging. If Zane’s shield is already full or recharging, enemies with no shields (or freeze immunity) that touch Zane’s Barrier for the next 10s are instantly frozen.

Augments: why the hell do i gotta place my barrier down when my entire fuckin’ character is about RUNNING. ALSO JUST AS A BLANKET STATEMENT: ALL THESE AUGMENTS WORK 100% EVEN IF HIS BARRIER IS PICKED UP. SO DUMB. a fully pointless restriction.

that last sentence immediately fixes Charged Relay and Nanites or Some Shite.

Redistribution: If his shields are full, Zane can sacrifice 50% of his shields to have his next shot deal 100% bonus cryo damage by holding F.

All-Rounder: Fine as is. Only thing I would add: whenever Zane melees an enemy, his shields are drained by 50% and his sliding augment is added to the melee attack.

Deterrence Field: Fine as is. But! I would add: whenever Zane sprints into an enemy, his shields are drained by 50% and slam augment is activated.

THAT WAY we can have both slam/sliding relics actually DO SOMETHING. because my god they’re so useless rn.

alright, moving on.

Hitman

Tier 1: is okay. nobody ever takes cold bore. ever.

Violent Speed: fine as is, but we’re taking it back to pre-release values. Max: 30%. can stack 2x.

Cold Bore: Zane gains (max) 20% bonus cryo damage to all shots fired while moving.

Violent Momentum: fine as is, but taking it back to pre-release values. 30% gun damage at default walk speed. Additionally, Zane can now shoot while sprinting.

Tier 2: my boy zoomer needs more fun.

Cool Hand: fine as it is. I would buff his base reload speed up to 20% and kill skill reload to 20% as well. 17 and 13 are such weird numbers.

Drone Delivery: fine as it is. Additionally, Zoomer’s base shots now take on the element of Zane’s grenade mod.

Salvation: fine as it is. I won’t mess with this bc life steal is messy business (coughs in grog)

Tier 3: hhhynf.fdsg.

Death Follows Close: Kill Skill Bonus: +30%. Kill Skill Time: +7s. Additionally, enemies targeted by Zoomer take 5% more damage from Zane.

Tier 4: these two skills are actually p dope by themselves. it can stay as it is. I would MAYBE increase the violent violence max buff up to 20% but that’s just me.

Tier 5: ahahahaha. this skill. just remember, we’re pretending Seein’ Dead doesn’t exist, so imagine how this skill looks next to calm cool n collected. so pointless.

Good Misfortune: Killing an enemy with a critical hit adds (max) 10% efficiency to Zane’s kill skills for 8s. This does not stack.

Tier 6: WE’RE GONNA MAKE YOU RELEVANT AGAIN BOO HANG IN THERE

Seein’ Red: Zane has a (4%) chance to activate his kill skills upon dealing gun damage to an enemy. Additionally, enemies targeted by Zoomer now take 15% more damage from Zane.

so why didn’t we make good misfortune the infinite action skill build?? BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT CCnC IS SUPPOSED TO DO!!! why have 2 skills that do the exact same thing AT THE EXACT SAME TIER except ONE IS OBJECTIVELY WORSE!!!!!

what happens to the Seein’ Dead class mod if we’re giving its perk to this capstone? I’m so glad you asked. “Zane activates his kill skills when activating his action skills. Additionally, the kill skills activated this way have 15% more efficiency”. look how much better balanced that is!!!! that’s a class mod!!!!!!!!

Augments: these aren’t THAT bad, but they could be a lot better.

Winter’s Drone: Zoomer gains 20% bonus cryo damage to all shots.

Bad Dose: pump these numbers up. Fire Rate: +7% per affected enemy. Movement Speed: +10% per enemy. everything else is fine.

Boomsday: just make this more beefy. fr. It’d be a good choice if it were stronger.

Static Field: also fine. I would again give it better damage output, but that’s just me.

Almighty Ordnance: remove the build up honestly. Like i get the vibe and it’s really cool, but in combat it just DOESN’T WORK. maybe if Zoomer is targeting an enemy, he will unleash the missiles if they are above 50% health after 30s or something. I honestly think these should have a debuffing factor instead of a damage factor (you know, to not get in the way of boomsday). maybe something around 15%? the 1x per action skill activation thing would be easily subverted with CCnC with the changes we suggested, so it could work.

Doubled Agent

ahhh, Blane. Blue Zane. Love ya, buddy. One change: he prioritizes pinged targets. That way you can kinda get him to fight specific people. Also, lower the teleportation timer. pls.

Tier 1: actually p good. could be better, but its not bad.

Synchronicity: Zane gains 20% bonus damage per active action skill. While Zane has an action skill active, he gains a stack of Synchronicity. Max Stacks: 10. For each stack of Synchronicity, Zane gains 5% Action Skill Cooldown Rate and 2% Action Skill Damage.

Praemunitus: Zane and his digiclone gain (max) 30% magazine size.

Borrowed Time: For each action skill active, Zane gains 30% action skill duration. The longer Zane’s action skills are active, he and Blane gain a higher Fire Rate and faster Reload Speed, up to 20%. (the idea is you choose between this or synchronicity bc... either permanent action skills build or fast paced action skills build)

Tier 2: Donnybrook is fun. Fractal Frags is fun. Duct tape mod is a GODDAMN DISAPPOINTMENT

Donnybrook: fine as it is. I might buff the max numbers up to 20% gun damage and 3% health regen. But that’s really it.

Fractal Frags: Blane will periodically toss a grenade from Zane’s stockpile at his targeted enemy (cooldown: 20s). Kill Skill: Blane has a 45% chance to throw a free grenade.

Duct Tape Mod: this skill... why... No cooldown. NONE. Zane has a 1% chance to also fire a grenade from his gun. Kill Skill: This is increased to 15% for 8s (stays at 1% for the whole time, but the kill skill will increase by 3% for each tier)

Tier 3: Actually Quick Breather is one of my favorite skills. this can stay.

Quick Breather: Same as is. Additionally, Zane and his clone gain 25% Gun Damage after swapping places for a short time (8s). I really wanna promote swapping places. It’s really underutilized. they’ve ADDED stuff to this skill already!!! even tho it didn’t work until the next patch. BUT THEY SHOW ITS POSSIBLE TO ADD TO SKILLS!!!

Tier 4: actually a really good tier. a few minor changes.

Pocket Full of Grenades: Kill Skill: Zane gains (max) 15% grenade regeneration for 8s. If Zane’s grenades are full, any excess grenades are shot from his gun with 25% bonus damage.

Old-U: If Zane falls into FFYL while his digiclone is active, he can press the action skill activation key to destroy his clone and gain a second wind. When he does this, he takes the place of his clone. His clone will also drop a grenade when it is destroyed.

Supersonic Man: Zane gains increased movement speed for each active action skill: (max) 15% each. Additionally, teleportation is considered to be Zane’s maximum speed for its duration and 5s after.

Tier 5: oh god oh fuck oh god.

Like a Ghost: Oh god why. Zane and his digiclone gain a (max) 15% chance to ignore all damage while teleporting and for 7s after.

Boom. Enhance: actually a pretty swell skill. I would probably add Health Regen +3% per grenade tho. Blane needs help a lot.

Trick of the Light: bring back the shock damage. Zane deals 40% bonus shock damage for 7s after swapping places with his clone.

Tier 6: oh ngl I actually love this capstone lol

Double Barrel: Zane’s digiclone gains a copy of Zane’s current gun when it is deployed (and all the anointments work and he actually fires it like a reasonable person). Zane’s clone now deals damage equal to Zane’s base weapon damage. Upon swapping places, both Zane and his digiclone deal 50% bonus damage for 7s.

Augments:

Binary System: is okay. Kinda uhhh underwhelming tho. Buff up the damage and also maybe reduce teleportation time.

Schadenfreude: I like this one a lot. Zane’s shield is restored by 100% of the damage his digiclone takes and vice versa.

Dopplebanger: lower the waiting time. I get that u don’t wanna override the teleportation, but it’s really annoying. Buff damage and don’t make it dependent on action skill duration. If this explosion kills an enemy, the clone is reactivated with 50% action skill duration.

Which One’s Real?: I’ve never actually felt this work. Maybe for like 2 seconds? Make it work more like Zer0′s hologram or Timmy’s Jack clones or smth. Maybe give an activation cue? im v lost with this one. Enemies targeting Zane take 30% more damage from the digiclone.

Digital Distribution: 75% of the health damage Zane takes is distributed to his clone instead. The digiclone gains 5% Health Regeneration/s and sends out 3 [level specific damage] shock spikes to enemies that attack it.

literally all Zane needs is SYNERGY. if they can change a few skills, pump up a few numbers, and ffs fix the seein’ red/dead capstone/mod, they’d be in FUCKIN BUSINESS

but no instead

THEY LOCKED THE BUFF BEHIND A PAYWALL.

WHYYYYYY

#>:(#borderlands #im not redirecting my anger im legitimately angrey about this wat u mean #bl3 #zane flynt #but actually this is such a frustrating thing to deal with

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syntaxeme · 4 years

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One Good Turn ch. 4

[Read on AO3] | [First Chapter] | [Next Chapter] Rating: T Story summary: Angel’s clean streak is broken when Val forcibly calls him back to the studio. On principle (and not at all out of concern for Angel's wellbeing), Alastor takes it upon himself to free Angel from Valentino's control. But what started as a simple favor becomes something much more complicated, all because of an innocent thank-you kiss.

— — –

Angel was right to think that Valentino wouldn’t be long in asking after him. The following day, Charlie welcomed Angel back with open arms and tears of joy. The mood throughout the entire hotel improved with his presence, in fact, from the staff to the guests to Angel himself. He seemed very pleased to be back, while the others—Alastor included—were delighted to have him. Yet in the midst of their happy reunion, there was an undercurrent of nervous anticipation, and only a few of them knew why.

After roughly five days of waiting, another large and intimidating demon, different from the last, came knocking. This time, however, Alastor was waiting in the lobby to greet him, having relieved Husker of his duties for the moment. “Good afternoon, my friend,” he called cheerfully from the bar. “Are you here to reserve a room for yourself? For a friend, perhaps? We’re happy to accommodate—”

“Can it, Radio,” the other demon growled.

“—whatever needs you might have,” he concluded. “Well, if that isn’t why you’re here, what can I do for you?”

“I’m lookin’ for Angel. Where is he?”

“Angel? Hmmm, Angel…” Alastor pursed his lips, leaning forward against the bar and drumming his fingers along it rhythmically. He materialized the hotel’s registry in front of him and flipped through the pages too quickly to read them. “You know, I’m not sure who you mean. That name doesn’t appear in our records. Could you give me a more detailed description? I hate to be unhelpful.”

“Look, I’m not in the mood for any of your fuckin’ games. Tell me where I can find Angel Dust. Boss knows he’s here. The longer you keep him from goin’ back, the more pissed Val’s gonna get.”

“I see. Well, we wouldn’t want that,” Alastor said, nodding, sweeping out from behind the bar to meet the visitor. “Maybe I should go and have a chat with Valentino to avoid any misunderstandings.”

“No deal. I’m here for Angel, and I ain’t leavin’ without him.”

“Are you sure? I really think”—there was a burst of static, Alastor’s voice distorting slightly as he gestured toward the door—“this is the best option for everyone. Yourself included. Now, I try not to make assumptions about the feelings of others, but I can promise you, if you refuse to take me to Valentino, you will regret it.”

“Uh.” The crony took a step back, his eyes widening as the room darkened further and further. He must have recognized just how serious Alastor was about this. “All right, all right, just come with me. If you wanna be the one to break the news, be my guest.”

“Why, it would be my utmost pleasure!” the Radio Demon agreed, congenial once again now that he was getting his way. He followed Valentino’s employee out to the limo, which was empty this time. They rode in utter silence, Alastor observing through the window and considering all the various ways Valentino might take the news he had to present. Plenty of possibilities, plenty of options. Of course, it would be simplest if he could talk his way through the disagreement without needing to resort to violence, but then…

Then he recalled the tears in Angel’s eyes those few nights ago, how terrified he was of being touched, how disgusted he sounded when talking about Vox and his men…and he wondered if perhaps a little violence wasn’t in order. Angel wasn’t likely to get revenge himself, but his suffering still deserved to be repaid to the ones who had caused it. Something to think about, at least.

The studio, when they reached it, wasn’t the sort of place Alastor would’ve spent his time willfully. Visual media. Flat facts, no imagination, what a bore. The demon who had driven him there tried to take him up the elevator, but he slapped the man’s hands away from the buttons and entered the car alone with a smile and a grateful bow.

When he reached the top floor and stepped out into Valentino’s lounge, the pimp was waiting sprawled on a velvet-upholstered couch. The look on his face said he’d already been informed in the change of plans regarding his guest. It wasn’t a pleased or welcoming expression by any means.

“Radio,” Valentino said simply. “I knew somethin’ was keepin’ Angel at that shithole of a hotel, but I didn’t figure it’d be somethin’ like you.”

“Well, I do try my best to do the unexpected. To be clear, though, I haven’t been ‘keeping’ anyone anywhere,” he replied, absently twirling his staff through his fingers as he wandered the room. The view from this height was quite impressive—as impressive as Pentagram City could be, that is. “Angel has expressed an interest in staying at the hotel, so I thought I might do you the favor of explaining why.”

“As if you understand anything about him,” Valentino sneered. “You met him, what, a couple months ago? You don’t fuckin’ know him.”

“Not as well as you do, I’m sure. But I also have no interest in leading him to feel or think any particular way. I’m told that’s an area where you and I differ.”

“Then why’re you comin’ here to speak for him? There a reason he couldn’t tell me all this himself?”

“There is! And I’m sure you’re well aware of it,” Alastor said, coming back to stand in front of the couch, hands folded at his back. “After all, you’ve been using it to manipulate him for years, haven’t you? Any time he began to argue with your orders, any time he fought you for his freedom, you subdued him with a show of force that you know he can’t resist. If he were to come here, you would do the same thing yet again. Am I wrong?”

“Must be real easy to stand there and run your mouth about shit you don’t understand.” Valentino’s long fingers tapped slowly along the arm of the couch. “But it sounds like you two’ve spent a while chattin’ about it. He tell you about all the times I got his junkie ass outta trouble? All the times he came crawlin’ back to me when he couldn’t make it on his own? Nah, I bet he painted this big sad picture for ya where I’m the bad guy and he’s never done a thing wrong in his life. That’s what I mean when I say ya don’t know him. You don’t even realize when you’re bein’ played.”

“He didn’t ask me to come here,” Alastor pointed out. “In fact, he asked me not to. His fear of you is so powerful it extends even to others he cares about outside of himself.”

In an instant, Valentino was on his feet, bearing down on Alastor menacingly but not enough to make him back down. “People he ‘cares about’?” he growled. “The fuck is that supposed to mean? You’ve been screwin’ him, haven’t you? You’re the reason he thinks he doesn’t need me anymore.”

Alastor tossed his head back and laughed aloud. “My good man, you are wrong on every possible count. Well, other than Angel realizing that he doesn’t need you. That, he has.” A feather or a tuft of fur from Valentino’s coat floated down to rest on his shoulder, and he brushed it off casually. “No, I’ve been doing nothing of the sort. But he’s made it clear to me that you are not what he wants for his future. So I’m here to make it clear that you will not be a part of his future.”

After a moment of exchanging silent glares, Valentino let out a laugh without ever smiling. “You really think you’re hot shit, don’t ya? You think you can waltz into my place of business and tell me what I can or can’t do with my own property?”

“I sincerely hope you’re not referring to Angel Dust as ‘property.’” Despite all the windows in the room and the fact that the sun was still up, shadows began to slowly gather in the corners and edge toward him. “I’ve come to think of him as a friend, you see, and I don’t much appreciate my friends being insulted.”

“A friend. I just bet,” Valentino scoffed.

“Why else would I have come here in his defense?”

“You tell me, Radio. Vox says you ain’t interested in sex. Not really. Nobody knows what the fuck you’re interested in. But you obviously have some kinda investment in Angel. So what is it about him you like so much?”

The sound of his rival’s name made Alastor’s smile edge into a sneer, and he made no effort at forcing it back into something congenial. “As much as I appreciate your efforts to understand me, I’m afraid I just don’t have the time or will to explain myself to someone like you. Kindly give me your word that you’ll allow Angel to live his own life free from your interference, and I’ll leave you to continue your distasteful business in peace.” He offered his hand, ready to seal the deal and be done with this conversation before being forced to examine his own motivations too closely—but Valentino refused to cooperate.

“And if I don’t?” He raised his head, jutting his chin out defiantly. “If I tell you none of your petty threats or parlor tricks are gonna work on me and I’m not lettin’ Angel go for all the hookers in Hell? Then what?”

Alastor took a slow, deep breath, his mouth twisting into a disappointed grimace as he rested the end of his staff on the ground and ran his free hand through his hair. “If you were to say that, I would be distraught. I did tell him I would try to resolve this peacefully. That being said…” He tapped his staff once, and the shadows that had been slowly creeping closer suddenly shot forward to shackle Valentino’s wrists, yanking down sharply and forcing him to his knees. Not bothering to pretend he wasn’t enjoying this, Alastor went on, “I also told him that if you forced the issue, I had no qualms about forcing your acquiesce. So here we are.”

“You fuckin’ piece of garbage.” Valentino thrashed, and his physical strength was surprising, almost shocking in that it nearly broke the shadows’ hold on him. Nearly. As he was dragged back down, he growled, “Say what you want, but I know you’re tryna keep him for yourself. You think you can take what belongs to me and get away with it? I was the one takin’ care of him. I was the only reason he made it as far as he did. Whatever I wanted as payback, I deserved. If he thinks he can—” Another shadow tendril snaked around his throat to cut off his voice as Alastor grew tired of his excuses.

“I appreciate your dedication to your principles,” he said, starting to stroll thoughtfully back and forth just a few feet from where Valentino was bound. “There’s something to be said for a man who really sticks to his guns, even if your particular guns are objectively repugnant. Now, do you have any sort of formal deal with Angel that details him as your ‘property’?”

“You got me curious now,” Valentino answered, ignoring the question. “You gotta know who I am. You know what kinda trouble fuckin’ with me is gonna get you into. But you’re doin’ it anyway, for his sake. With your reputation, it just doesn’t make sense. But Angie’s got his hooks in you deep, I can tell.”

“A contract? A verbal agreement?” Alastor suggested, not bothering to respond to the other demon’s musing. “Something regarding his career, maybe? What will it take to sever your hold on him once and for all?”

“It ain’t like this’s never happened before, y’know.” Valentino had stopped fighting his bonds altogether, simply sitting still on the ground and watching Alastor thoughtfully, his voice turned smooth and calm. “He does this to people. Sometimes it’s the guys he shoots with. Sometimes it’s fans or clients. They spend a little too much time with him and start gettin’ the idea there’s more to it than sex. I’ll tell you the same thing I tell them: whatever Angel says, whatever little pity games he wants to play, he likes the work I have him doin’.”

“He gives a very different impression.”

“Sure he does. That’s part of the game. He likes havin’ some power to play with, seein’ how far he can get a man to go for his sake. Or maybe he just likes seein’ me kill his drooling puppy-love dickheads over and over to keep him to myself. Who knows what goes on in his head? But you’ve known him a little while. You’ve seen how he acts. You think I taught him to be like that?” Valentino let out a cold laugh. “Nah. He was a slut before he ever met me.”

Alastor’s smile was distinctly pained at this point, his face reddening with an emotion he couldn’t quite identify. “I don’t see what any of that has to do with this conversation.”

“The point is he doesn’t want out. He just wants control over somethin’. Doesn’t that bother you? Doesn’t it piss you off to think he’s usin’ you?” With a growing smirk, he went on, “Doesn’t it make ya wanna punish him? Bring him back here for me and I’ll let you.”

Horrified, the Radio Demon reeled back a step as static started to build in his ears. “Excuse me?”

“Hey, it doesn’t hafta be sexual; however you wanna do it’s up to you.” Valentino was practically salivating at the thought, grinning ear-to-ear. “I’ll even make it so he won’t fight back. Do whatever ya want with him, teach him not to fuck with an Overlord. Your thing is audio, right? Well that voice of his sounds even better when he’s screaming—”

Alastor’s fist closed abruptly, and the shadow around Valentino’s neck tightened, jerking downward to slam his face into the cold tile floor. All sound in the room had been drowned in squealing, buzzing static, betraying how utterly livid he was. That was what Angel had noted in relation to Vox. What’s the point if I don’t scream, right? The thought of being compared to that odious cretin in any aspect was enough to boil his blood, but it was especially insulting to suggest his cooperation might be so easily bought with the promise of carnal pleasure, as if he had no more significant motivation.

“I hate to interrupt while you’re clearly enjoying this subject so much”—he spoke over (or under) the static without trying to subdue it—“but I think we’ve gotten a little off-topic. I was asking you whether there are any official deals binding Angel to you. And you were going to tell me so that I could end them. Yes?” Placing his mic under Valentino’s chin to force his head up, he took slight satisfaction in seeing that the pimp’s kitschy heart-shaped sunglasses were now cracked. Better yet, there was no trace of a smile on his face.

“Motherfucker,” Valentino grumbled, sitting up as well as he could. As the tendril around his neck slowly coiled tighter and tighter and Alastor was debating whether it might be safest to simply kill him now and be done with it, he choked out, “No, all right? It’s nothin’…like that. It’s just understood.”

“Then I’ll need you to revise your understanding.” He knelt to be eye-level with his opposition and ordered, “Tell me you and yours won’t approach Angel Dust or coerce him into anything again. Promise me that, and the most you might lose is some revenue. Refuse, and I’ll make it my mission to prove exactly how much more you have to lose.” The white noise had pitched higher and higher to an ear-splitting level, but Alastor didn’t so much as blink as he waited for an answer.

After several moments of stubborn, cringing silence, Valentino finally broke down. “Fine!” he snarled. “I won’t come get him. I won’t make him leave your little freak show. But you need to know he is gonna come back to me, just like he always does, and when it happens, I’m not lettin’ him outta my sight again.”

The screeching static dissipated all at once as Alastor got to his feet again. “Considering how unlikely that condition is, I’ll accept it. I’m glad we could finally come to an agreement.” The shadows released their hold on Valentino and slipped away into the corners of the room again, all returning to its proper state before his arrival. He offered his hand to make the deal official, not at all concerned about Valentino attacking him; even if he tried, it had already been proven which of them was stronger.

Begrudgingly shaking his hand, just once, Valentino growled, “Now get the fuck outta my studio.”

“Oh, with pleasure! I wouldn’t spend a moment longer here than necessary,” Alastor agreed, already heading for the elevator and humming happily to himself. All things considered, those negotiations had gone quite well.

…

It took some time for him to get back to the hotel, as he was forced to walk this time. By the time he reached the lobby, the sun was already setting. Inside, Husker was leaning against the bar and watching an uncharacteristically anxious Angel pace back and forth in front of it, while Charlie waited with her arms crossed. When they caught sight of him, Charlie and Angel rushed over to meet him immediately.

“Al! Where the hell’ve you been?” Angel demanded, looking him over as if to be sure he wasn’t hiding some sort of injury.

“You left the front desk empty too,” Charlie added with a pout. “I mean, no one came in while you were gone, but what if they had?”

“I apologize for the sudden disappearance; there was some business I needed to attend across town. But now that it’s taken care of, I’m back and able to give the hotel my full attention,” he assured Charlie. “If you need anything at all, remember I’m just a call away. In the meantime: Angel. Could I have a word?” With this, he headed toward the stairwell, certain Angel would follow—which he did.

“Niffty said she saw Val’s car out front earlier,” he explained once they were alone and working their way toward the third floor, where Alastor’s room was located. “Is that where you were?”

“Well, I was only in the car for a short period,” the Radio Demon teased. “Most of my time away was spent in Valentino’s lounge. Nicely decorated, that place, if a bit gaudy for my taste.”

“So you talked to him? What’d you say? What’d he say?”

“Surely you don’t expect me to repeat it all word-for-word,” he chuckled. “Maybe I should’ve been recording it for you, if you’re so interested.”

“Alastor, seriously.” Angel didn’t try to touch him this time, instead moving to block his path on the stairs. “What happened?”

“We had a discussion. Like gentlemen,” Alastor said, folding his hands behind his back. “It took some persuading on my part, but he agreed not to pursue you any further. As long as you don’t go back to the studio of your own free will, you shouldn’t have to deal with him again.”

“Wait, so that’s just it? It was that simple?”

“Not quite, but those are the most important details.” Remembering the deal Valentino had tried to make with him, the offer of torturing or otherwise ‘punishing’ Angel still sent an uncomfortable chill down his spine—but he was well aware that hearing all that wouldn’t do Angel any good. “I figured you would want to know, so you can stop worrying every day that you’re going to be called back to him. It won’t happen.” I’ll make sure of that. As he moved to continue up the stairs, Angel spoke again.

“So what d’you want?”

“Want?” Alastor repeated, pausing to glance back at him.

“Yeah. I mean, if you’re for real about this, you just did me a pretty huge fuckin’ favor,” Angel pointed out. “Nobody down here does shit for anyone else without expectin’ somethin’ in return. I know you like your bets and deals and all. So tell me what ya want.”

That was all very fair logic. Alastor did very much enjoy making deals, often the sort that weren’t exactly as they seemed, and collecting favors from those he worked with. It was true he��d taken quite a risk in threatening Valentino, and it made sense that he should want to be repaid. Yet he hadn’t been thinking of it that way up to this point.

“What I did today wasn’t entirely selfless. While I am glad to know you’ll be free to make your own choices, I also wanted to keep you here with us. Er, to give you that option. If that’s what you want. Of course you’re free to leave if you prefer,” he added, not wanting to liken himself to Valentino in that way. “Point being: you don’t owe me anything, cher. I’m satisfied with knowing you won’t be abducted by some third party.”

Angel didn’t respond for a moment. When he did, it wasn’t in the way Alastor expected. Because Alastor was a step or two higher than him at the moment, their heights were roughly equal, which made it simple enough for Angel to lean forward and kiss him. For once, his buzzing static went completely silent, and his eyes widened further as gloved hands slid into his hair on either side of his head. It was a simple, lingering kiss, just light pressure and warmth—but before he drew away, Angel did lick his lips once, softly, briefly.

“Hmm.” As he stepped back, fingertips trailing down the Radio Demon’s cheek, Angel wore a playful, self-satisfied smirk. “Lemme know if ya change your mind about that.” And he left to head back down the stairs, most likely to take the elevator up to his room.

Alastor remained very still, hands clenched at his sides as he tried to understand exactly what had just happened and how he felt about it. While it was true he’d never had much interest in sex, this was something rather different and not altogether unpleasant. Maybe… Maybe he did want something from Angel. But he wouldn’t ask for it. He refused to prove Valentino right in his theory that Alastor had only freed Angel in order to claim him for himself—though that word, ‘claim,’ and all it implied did make him shiver with intrigue.

No. He would not be what Valentino was, what Vox was, what Angel expected of every man he encountered. He wouldn’t insist that he needed no repayment, then immediately prove himself a liar with the slightest temptation. That being said, if Angel were to offer again…Alastor might have some difficulty refusing.

#RadioDust #Hazbin Angel Dust #Hazbin Alastor #Things Are Getting Real #I promise there will be some proper shippy content in the next chapter #oh boy will there ever...#One Good Turn #Hazbin Hotel

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multiverse-in-archive · 4 years

Note

DEATH for Val, Vox, Angel, and Husk

☠ - DEATH - the closest it’s come to touching their life

“Heh... Guess it would be cheatin’ if we brought up times when we actually died, eh?”

“Considerin’ my family, there were a few close calls before I kicked the bucket, but I think the one that stuck with me the most was the one that happened on my an’ my sista’s birthday.”

“Th’ two of us were turnin’ fifteen, we had a bit of a celebration, then the next thing I knew, gunshots. ‘Parently wunnavours had pissed off a rival gang recently, so they retaliated.”

“Obviously we survived that, but it was a bit fucked. The resta that evenin’ was spent with pops draggin’ me along to help extract information outtua the survivas. Then disposin’ of the bodies once we got our answers. So that was an event.”

“Jesus...!”

“Hey, that was life. Shit happens.”

“So, whadabout you, Husky baby? Got any traumatizin’ near death experiences to tell?”

“... I was a soldier since my late adulthood fer the resta my life, so there were plenty before I finally jus’ died. Though, one in particular happened after I died... Durin’ one of the exterminations, actually... Not goin’ to a lotta details, ‘cause frankly it’s none of yer businesses, but suffice to say, I owed Alastor after that...”

...

“... Soldja, huh? That’s pretty hot, not gonna lie.”

“Oh piss off.”

---

Val hummed thoughtfully for a moment.

“Frankly, my time in the sex business up top compared to here was relatively quiet... So lil’ to say, this incident caught me off guard...”

The moth took a drag from his cigar before cotinuing.

“Back when I first started climbing up in the sex industry down here, a few whores I was actually rather fond of decided to try goin’ behind my back. Saw me as a shortcut to get up top. So one moment we were laughin’ an’ havin’ a grand ol’ time, an’ then the next minute wunnavem nearly stabbed me in the head with a holy knife.”

His bare antenna twitched.

“After a bit of a skirmish, I managed to wrestle the weapon outta her hand, and then they were all done for.”

The pimp then exhaled some red smoke.

“It was a... valuable learning experience, for sure.”

Valentino then leaned forward and looked at Vox.

“Alright, babe, your turn.”

Vox blinked at that.

“Right- Shit- Uh... This was back in my earlier years in Hell... Back when I was basically small potatoes,” Vox started, “I got a bit caught up in one of Alastor’s... being Alastor... You know how he is. Especially back in the early to mid nineteen hundreds.”

“I heard, yeah,” the moth nodded.

“So anyways. Rampaging, fuckin’... living doll things. The works. Some of those lil’ fuckers came after me, and damn did they have sharp lil’ teeth. I’m still not convinced those weren’t actual needles. So I was struggling a bit with them for a while, but then he just... left. Just all of a sudden he basically just picked up his ball and went home. Later I found out because something was interfering with his radio signal, so he couldn’t broadcast anything. So he basically just raged quit.”

Valentino storted at that.

“I take it that was you?”

“Unintentionally, but yeah.”

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undeath1245 · 5 years

Text

Predictions/headcanon for Hazbin Hotel

Here are my predictions and headcanon for what’s to happen next in the show.

The next episode would most likely introduce Baxter, Mimzy, and Crymimi. Since the staff consists of Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor, Niffty, and Husk, and their only guest so far is Angel, I believe the the new three characters ought to be guests as well. Now the question is: how did they get invited to the hotel? My best guest is that Alastor might have summoned them over there like what he did with Niffty and Husk. He also probably threatened their existence if they don’t cooperate and stay in the hotel. Either that, or he used his charm to lure them into the hotel.

From what I’ve seen with a few fanart, one of the show’s conflicts ought to be the protests against Hazbin Hotel. The protesters would use extreme, lethal force to get the hotel shut down by any means, most likely out of sheer annoyance from Charlie’s song or out of pure spite. I believe that Katie Killjoy would endorse these protests, even starting a smear campaign against the hotel, once again, out of pure spite. And speaking of Killjoy, I think she’ll start off as a lesser villain before building her way up into a bigger threat. Despite her wealth and status, I believe she’s somewhat of a flunky compared to her superior, of whom I believe to be Vox. I also believe her to be somewhat of a name dropper, always bragging on and on about her meet-ups with Pentagram’s dangerous overlords, which leads to my theory about her becoming an overlord later on in the show.

Valentino would serve as the main antagonist of season one. I assume that the first conflict would be him calling Angel and demanding him to come back to the studio. He’d probably attempt to manipulate Angel by telling lies about Charlie, telling him that she only cares about the hotel and her theory about possible redemption for sinners rather than the sinners themselves. Later on, probably in the season finale, Valentino would confront Charlie face-to-face and get his Angel back. He’d try to talk her down, saying something about her using Angel for her own benefit, the hotel. Or, saying that she is weak, commenting about how her father is right about her; cue Charlie going apeshit on Valentino.

Angel Dust would be pressured into going back to the wrong side of the tracks, meaning leaving the hotel and embracing his toxic self even more. I believe he would be pressured by Cherri Bomb first, considering their friendship and a potential “it’s-either-them-or-me” conflict. Later throughout season one, he’d be manipulated by Valentino to return back to the studio, as stated earlier. At first, Valentino would lie to him that Charlie and Vaggie are using him to benefit the hotel. But later on, I believe Valentino would use Angel’s drug addiction against him. This would prompt Charlie and Vaggie to go and rescue Angel from the pimp’s clutches, ergo beginning the Valentino–Hotel situation. Afterwards, I assume, he would eventually warm up to the hotel, including getting along with Vaggie; I like their dynamic.

I believe by the end of the season, there’s gonna be new additions to the Hazbin crew, namely Cherri Bomb, Sir Pentious, and Tom Trench. The former two: well, it’s pretty obvious that they’ll join the crew soon. Plus, I want more Angel and Cherry moments, including them annoying the shit outta Sir Pentious. In Tom’s case, however, I assume that he’ll be fed up with working with Killjoy that he’ll finally stand up to her, probably fight her, and join the hotel. Adding to this, I believe he’s somewhat of an almighty janitor, appearing as a butt monkey at first before immediately showing off his soldier-like prowess, considering that he served in WWI and died in the battlefield.

During season two, if there’s going to be a season two, Charlie would have to learn to use her long-untapped demonic powers to protect her hotel after the Valentino fiasco. We would see a reason why she never ever uses her powers, of which I predict her powers are nigh-apocalyptic, capable of wiping away a chunk of Hell itself or erasing millions of souls. I also believe we might see her character development backwards, similar to that of Rose Quartz from Steven Universe. I assume she started off as a happier demon princess before gradually evolving into an angry, pessimistic, depressed person of mass destruction after finally realizing what kind of horrible world she’s living in. Eventually, she would realize what kind of person she’s becoming and better herself into the happy, but struggling demon princess she is today.

#VivziePop #Hazbin Hotel #Charlie Magne #Vaggie #Angel Dust #Alastor #Niffty #Husk #Cherri Bomb #Sir Pentious #Katie Killjoy #Tom Trench #Vox #Valentino

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punkscowardschampions · 5 years

Text

Charlie & Ronnie

Charlie: Well well well Charlie: aren't you so smug Ronnie: 🖕 Charlie: Come on Charlie: if you aren't sharing you can at least share details Ronnie: hes not a homo Ronnie: turn him on your own time Charlie: none of 'em ever are, darling, you know the drill Charlie: not your usual type though, where'd you snatch him from? Ronnie: he stalked me but hes too pussy to try a kidnap Charlie: where were you Charlie: the library? Charlie: 🤔 Ronnie: yeah shooting up in the stacks Charlie: romantic Charlie: also you and every other junkie in this town, god bless a public space where you don't have to buy a shit cuppa to use the loos Charlie: but I won't be distracted Ronnie: guess again then gaylord Ronnie: reckon youll get close if you think librarian on a break Ronnie: frigid not slutty Charlie: why are you being such a tease? Charlie: not slutty or cool 😣 Ronnie: im not a tease just cause you miss my arse baby Charlie: hard to miss something that ain't never been there 💔 Charlie: there's no way he's a dealer or a tattoo 'artist' or any other degenerate you spend your days around Charlie: not got the look Ronnie: i told you hes a stalker Ronnie: facebooked me like a ma with a limp dicked hubby & 2 cunt kids Ronnie: cheers for all the content he found like Charlie: you and your several chins ain't that special though Charlie: no offense Charlie: where did he find you, why Charlie: WHY HAVEN'T YOU ASKED Ronnie: sort your head out soft lad Ronnie: why do you reckon Ronnie: think back to every bullshit baby dream you ever had Ronnie: 🏠👶🐶 Charlie: he's not old enough to be anyone's daddy Charlie: wait Charlie: oh no way Charlie: you're related to him Ronnie: got the same ma Charlie: fuck Charlie: that's huge Charlie: how old is he actually? Ronnie: 19 Ronnie: youngest of em is like 5 he said Charlie: there's more Charlie: Jesus Ronnie: brothers & a sister Charlie: obvs not your dad but just the one or what Charlie: what happened to her Ronnie: she met him the same year i was fucking born Ronnie: no time wasted Charlie: that's so messed up Charlie: I'm sorry Charlie: have whatever you're having on me rn Ronnie: give your sorrys to him Ronnie: proper headcase Ronnie: near west as i am Charlie: he's not actual stalker material is he Charlie: shit, if I'd have realised Ronnie: calm your tits fitz Ronnie: theres fuck all worth taking Ronnie: your virginitys long gone Charlie: not how he's gonna see it if he's actually looney Ronnie: if he wanted to murder me id be dead Ronnie: he had a clean shot when he got me from [that sketch location] Charlie: really Charlie: you'd rather risk getting raped and murdered than just tell me you were there again Ronnie: you say that like it aint my idea of a fun night Ronnie: whats a lil sexual & physical violence amongst potential family & friends yeah Charlie: be serious for a second please Ronnie: fuck you Charlie: what are you doing about this Charlie: what does he actually want Ronnie: hes a pussy with a deathwish Ronnie: dont know fuck all else about him Ronnie: didnt wanna know that Charlie: does your mum wanna see you? Ronnie: aint her looking Charlie: surely she asked him to Charlie: not the kinda thing you do off your own back Charlie: least she told them about you, clearly, loads don't, ever Ronnie: probably shitting herself id come knocking at 18 Charlie: aren't you gonna then Charlie: go knocking Ronnie: why the fuck would i Charlie: ain't the only one with unfulfilled childhood dreams Charlie: 🤬👊😡🖕 Ronnie: i can use him as a punching bag without having to catch a flight Charlie: he's not who your issue is really with though Charlie: biggest issue, anyway Ronnie: turn the daytime telly off like Ronnie: fucking hell Charlie: I'm job-hunting with my days tah very much Charlie: bullshit you've got nothing worth saying to her Ronnie: binging bargain hunt aint gonna do shit for your cv Ronnie: & hes happy to pass on the fuck yous Charlie: I'm not binging anymore, babe Charlie: and why, what happened to him? Ronnie: dont take marple to work out without a gag reflex for the purge youre gonna be a fat cunt Ronnie: ask him yourself if youre dead arsed Ronnie: having a ma can fuck you up like not having one who knew like Charlie: and I'm the one that needs a job Charlie: 📺💕 Charlie: how are you not at all curious Charlie: get some imagination PLEASE Ronnie: shut up Charlie: So what Charlie: your BROTHER Charlie: with plural other brothers and a sister are gonna show up and you're not gonna do anything about it Charlie: just keep doing what you're doing like it never happened Ronnie: hes my half brother Ronnie: & the others aint gonna do fuck all Ronnie: hes not gonna organise a family reunion Charlie: you get to call the shots Charlie: you're the bastard orphan Ronnie: yeah i do Ronnie: cause i gave him a shot Charlie: excuse me Ronnie: hes in the club now baby Ronnie: & he aint gonna want mommy dearest finding out Charlie: what kind of fucked up genetics do you have Ronnie: you read the file Charlie: yeah Charlie: seeing it in action is something else Ronnie: stop crying he was never gonna fuck you Charlie: piss off Ronnie: suck a dick & get over his Charlie: yeah you read my file Charlie: long time ago Ronnie: yeah Charlie: things change Ronnie: if you want your boner back he studies music Charlie: don't pimp your brother out Ronnie: you saw the bitch he was with Ronnie: he needs us Charlie: does he though Ronnie: shut the fuck up Charlie: I can't believe you dosed him Ronnie: it wasnt like i crept up behind him for fucks sake Charlie: you clearly want him to stick around Ronnie: shut the fuck up charles Ronnie: he begged & he paid Charlie: so you're gonna let him get a taste and leave him high and dry Charlie: we'll see how that works out yeah Ronnie: im not his ma Ronnie: even if he reckons i look like her Ronnie: no cunt nursed me through it Charlie: yeah? Charlie: whoever you are, I ain't dealing when he shows up at the door Ronnie: no fixed address baby Ronnie: thats how it stays Charlie: you leave a pretty big trail in your wake Charlie: incognito you ain't Ronnie: you know where the fucking door is Charlie: my fucking door Charlie: I'm aware Ronnie: you coming out or what bitch Charlie: depends Ronnie: say on what then Charlie: where you are, where you're going Charlie: if your brother is nodding out in the corner Ronnie: [location for where she is] where the fuck do you wanna go dorothy Charlie: the fuck outta Kansas Charlie: all this brother lovin got me feeling queasy Ronnie: so move your arse Ronnie: me & you old school Charlie: how old school you tryna be 😏 Ronnie: how you want it Ronnie: nothings changed Ronnie: fuck that Charlie: 'course Charlie: be there now bitch Ronnie: good boy

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boogiewrites · 6 years

Text

Choking On Sapphires 73

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Title & Song: Loverman

Summary: Alfie takes revenge to defend Genevieve's honor. He keeps his promise and tells her after he does. Genevieve has a surprising reaction, even taking her off guard as the night leads to more honesty between them than ever before. **Chapter song is Loverman by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds .**

Warnings/Tags: References to past sexual assault. Explicit Sexual Content. Torture. Not graphically described. Language. Protective Alfie. Revenge by Alfie for Gen. Confessions of feelings.

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

Alfie sat silently in his anger on the drive back to London. He was stone-faced and hearted as he let himself go back to that dark place he knew inside himself to do the things this man deserved to have done to him.

He's careful and planned as always in these endevors. Different cars, guards, not wear his signature hat. He makes his way into the back entrance of the club and down into the cellar. Ollie waits, hands clasped in front of himself as he can tell from the sound of his boss's footsteps that this would be a long and bloody night for him.

"He's in there." Ollie says not making eye contact. Alfie takes off his coat and shirt, leaving his suspenders hanging from his sides, not wanting blood on anything light enough for it to show. "No one saw us. Everything's in the clear." he remarks as an afterthought as he saw Alfie was ready to get to his dark deeds without need of the confirmation. "May I ask-?" he begins.

"No." he states, turning his face towards Ollie and he diverts his gaze on sight.

He stomps into the windowless stone walled room. The man hangs from his tied wrists from a hook in the middle of the dark, bare space. A drain sits in the middle of the floor, the only thing to interrupt the echoing of Alfie's intimidating footsteps is the crates stacked against one wall.

The man squints under the single bulb, a single bead of blood coming down from his brow where he'd been knocked unconscious to be brought to his final resting place. "Who the hell are you?" he asks with a posh accent.

"You can call me, yeah? The wanderin' Jew." he says with a nod, walking slow around the man and thumbing his nose. "But it looks like you are the one that has wandered into the wrong place, mate." he says with a dark tone dripping from his words as he spoke them slowly and certainly.

"I don't know who you think you are or what you think this might bring you but you've got the wrong man."

"Nah." he shakes his head, stopping in front of him and crossing his arms, his brow low and heavy over his eyes, lips disappeared under his mustache as he commands his anger. "I know I've got the right one 'n this is gonna be a judgment of satisfaction. 'At's what 'is is." he raises his chin, his face shadowed by his sharp features and the stark light to obscure his face and make him look even more threatening than his body language already managed to.

"For what? What did I do to you?" he asks, his face still looking pompous somehow."

"You have hurt someone I care about. And I'm the type of man who don't let fings go ya see." he squares up against the man. His chin pushes back in concern for the closeness of Alfie's rough face.

"What do you want? Money? I can get you money. I haven't killed anyone." he says defensively.

"No I've got me own money mate." he says with a huff from his nostrils. "And you innit killed no one? I believe you might've killed a little girls innocence or time or two, yeah? Killed her belief in herself? What sort a man does such a thing." he puts his nose so close to the hanging man's he has to back away for them not to touch.

"Oh, bloody hell. You a pimp of some sort? Look I paid for what I did to those girls."

"No." he says loudly, slapping the man across the face hard and fast. "Looks like you're an even ore miserable excuse for a man that I thought." he backs away, looking at the contents of the room for something he could use.

"Look, a man like what he likes." he says with a nervous chuckle. "How am I supposed to know what I did if you don't tell me?" he asks.

"Fink reaaaaal hard." he says, reaching out, his head lowered and shoulders still to reach for a crow bar laying on top of a crate. "Almost fifteen years ago now. Little girl you threw yourself at. Barely a woman. Her father believed your words over hers. Daft fuckin' prick he is. Just like you." he turns and points the bar of steel at the man.

He sees the man's eyes searching. "Oh." he says, eyes looking away. "Greene." he says quietly.

"Her name is Genevieve." he says, hitting the man in the stomach with the edge of the bar.

"Yeah." the man says, groaning and gasping.

"You remember now?" he asks, an attitude in his voice.

"Yeah." he mutters, eyes hesitant in meeting Alfie's.

"What makes a man do and say such things, eh? To a little girl no less?" the question is mostly rhetorical as he takes the bar to the man's knees. "Now me. I was in the war. I've done some fucked up things meself. But never in me life have I hurt a woman in such a way. What would your mum fink of ya, eh? What an aboslute maggot you are. A fuckin' manky monster. Preying on little girls and lettin' 'em get put out in the streets, tellin' 'em they's broken and you own 'em?" he puts the end of the bar under the man's chin.

"She was young, I knew I could get away with it. She was supposed to be married to me so I thought, why not take it now?"

Alfie puts the curved end of the bar in the man's mouth. "She was not yours to take. And to fink you would've treated her the same or worse if that monster did make her marry you. You are lower than dog shit on the bottom of me shoes you fuckin' tosser."

"Why do you care? That was forever ago." he says, his words muffled.

"Because she'll be my wife and when she saw you tonight she looked like she'd seen a ghost. And nothing scares that woman. 'Specially not some dodgy posh cunt like you." he growls.

The man swallows, drool accumulating in his mouth from the taste of metal and grime from the bar Alfie was slow pressing into his jaw. His brow furrows, trying to think if he knew who this man was. "Durand." he mumbles.

"'At's her name now, yeah. But not for long. Soon it'll be Solomons." he hisses, a demented smile on his face.

"Oh fuck." the man groans, realization as to who he was dealing with hits him.

"Oh fuck is right!" Alfie laughs, jerking the bar back quickly and taking out a few on the man's teeth with it.

He moans and shouts, blood pouring from his mouth.

"Now 'at we know each other. I'm gonna have you tell me everyfing you did to her. 'N for everyfing you did to hurt her I'm gonna hurt you worse. And if I fink you're leaving somefin' out... I'm gonna hurt ya. So best to tell me the truth, eh?" he commands with a tilt of his head. "'Cause you're not gettin' outta 'is room alive, mate."

------

He has the boys take care of the evidence after he kills the man. Or take care of what was left of him. He washes off at his home in London, scrubbing away the evidence and changing, burning his clothes that held any blood on them. He could hear the cries of the man broken by the wet sounds from his throat and lungs filling with his own fluids. The fractured clotted sludge from his insides coming out of holes Alfie had put in his body, the blood that was spat out of his mouth as he pleaded and begged washes down the drain. Alfie's face stays cold, knowing he'd done what needed to be done for the thing that was most precious to him.

He comes back home to you, once again driven in silence. He wasn't feeling regretful in the least, a calm and self-assuredness came over him after he watched the man breathe his last breath. He kept repeating to himself over and over, no one would get away with hurting you as long as he was around.

He comes in quietly to your bedroom, sending Aggie away with a gesture of his hand as he takes off his clothes and gets into the pajamas you'd bought him. He watches you as you sleep, totally at peace, snuggled up to the pillow that was serving as him in his absence.

Light from the moon barely filters through the tops of the windows, he can only make out the faintest traces of your soft skin, his fingers moving down your cheek and jaw slowly, taking in your delicate features at rest, something he hadn't had as much time for as of late. You stir, something he didn't expect and he sighs, watching you stretch like a harmless kitten before rubbing your face.

"Alfie, darling is something the matter?" you inquire with sleep heavy words, propped up on your side in the bed. You can almost make out his face, it's set stiffly, his eyes hidden in shadow as he reaches out and takes your hand into his.

"Nuffin's the matter, my love." he whispers to ease you. You nod and let yourself rest your head back on your pillow, rubbing your thumb over his hand.

"Then come back to bed with me." you insist softly.

"I'm afraid I've got somefin' to tell ya first, Gen. It can't wait 'til mornin'." you see his head shake and hear the solumn tone in his voice. It raises your subdued senses into higher alert.

"What?" you rasp out, sitting up and scooting closer to him.

"I'm sorry to wake you with this love. But there's somethin' I should tell you." he pauses, his words holding grit to them as he forces them out.

"What have you done, Alfie?" you ask, your grip on his hand tightens.

"That man." he begins.

You shake your head. "Alfie, no." you whisper.

"That man at the club tonight." he pauses, taking a moment to audibly swallow. "After we left I had my men follow him." his sentences are paced and well rehearsed. "I had 'im put into the cellar. After you went to bed I left and went back to the club. After some... persuasion... he answered all my questions." he says with a certain, calm tone. "And I killed 'im." he states coldly, a nod and a characteristic grunt afterward.

"Alfie you-" you hurry to move up to your knees, your hand on his shoulder.

"Listen to me, Genevieve." he demands. Your mouth hangs open and you hold your words back with a sigh. "We ain't gotta talk about it. In fact I'd prefer if we forgot either of us ever fuckin' knew." he spits out. "And I know you dinnit want me to do it." he says defensively. Your shoulders slump. "As long as I'm 'round there innit gonna be no one that hurts you, Genevieve, yeah?" he moves his head towards you as you kneel next to him on the bed.

"You didn't need to do that, Alfie." you mutter, slightly worried.

"I wanted to." he states clearly.

"He's of high standing." you tell him, your hand going to his face to make him look at you. "What if you get caught?" he only sees worry for him when he meets your eyes and it hurts his chest.

"I ain't gonna get caught." he responds reassuringly.

"Why did you do it?" you beg for andanswer with your eyes and you shake his face. "I told you not to."

"I had to for what he did to you Genny, you fuckin' know 'at, why you keep pushin' it, eh?" he says holding your upper arm.

"I could've done it if I wanted to." you bite back at him.

"Well now you don't have to, do ya? I took care of it for ya." he says roughly releasing your arm.

"Alfie."

"I don't wannt hear it, Gen."

"Alfie."

"Fuckin' wot?"

You swallow loudly and it breaks his confusing growing anger. He's completely disarmed when you wrap your arms around his neck as his arms move up to hold your back. His hands hit your bare skin. He takes a shaky inhale at the feeling of you so warm and soft in his arms. You were something he was compelled to protect, this version of you. This soft and heartbroken woman was his to keep safe.

"No one's ever done anything like that for me before." you whisper into his ear. Your soft tone blindsiding him. You pull back slowly, your lips dragging from his ear to mouth. Your eyes were stinging with confusing tears as you wanted to be angry and you also felt so gut wrenchingly moved by his tone and willingness to exact an act of revenge when he knew you wouldn't. "You're going to keep trying to protect me even though I tell you not to aren't you?"

"Are ya just now figurin' 'is out?" he asks, somehow makign the words feel like they raked across your inner thighs. "No one's gonna hurt ya and get away wif it." You plant a soft kiss against his lips, his words sending direct blows to your chest. "Ever." he states defiantly before pushing your lips together again, exhaling harshly as one hand moves to the side of your head.

"Why would you be so reckless?" you whimper out through his biting kisses. "You can't be so brash," you say weakly as he groans into you. "You can't let them find out you did it, Alfie." you whine into his mouth, his hands kneading into your back as you move across his lap, straddling him.

"No one's gonna know, love." he sucks on your neck for a moment before moving his mouth to your ear. "I promise." you murmur against his words, wanting to believe them desperately.

"Don't let them take you from me." you rasp out in a broken breath as his teeth graze your collar bone. His tongue drags across the place he was kissing as he grunts as your words hit him. He stops and holds your back and hip tightly, looking into your eyes and finding them threatening to cry. He lets his eyes shut for a moment as he collects himself. He holds you tightly and moves you onto your back gently, keeping your body close to his. His knees are on the bed as he leans over you, the arm that was holding your back still there securely as his other hand holds your face. He leans in and looks over your soft, wanting expression. He's never seen this look on your face before.

"Is that why you didn't want me to do it?" he whispers, looking at your lips as they tremble with subdued worry. Your eyes widen and he can feel your shakey inhale.

"I cared about you, not him." you admit with a soft shake of your head, his thumb rubs your cheek as he sighs down at you. "He was too high profile to kill. People will come looking for him." he stays quiet, looking at you everywhere but your eyes. You move your hand, your fingers touching his face like he was yours in tender caresses. "I don't care that you killed him. I care that you'll get caught." you gulp and let out a small whine as you hold back tears that have sat behind your eyes for far too long. Your hands are light and trembling as they press to his chest. "They've taken too much from me already." you say with a slight shake of your head, you wrap your hands tightly around the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer. "Don't you fucking dare let them take you from me too, Solomons." you order through clenched teeth, your eyes sparkling with tears in the low light.

"Nothin' is ever going to take me from you again, Genevieve." he says softly, holding your face, your hand on top of his now. "I should've never left to begin wif." he admits with defeat in his voice, he kisses you hard and you want to sob. "Fuckin' wanker I was." he says between kisses as he feels you smile against his lips.

"They can't take you from me, Ari, I wouldn't be able to stand it." you confess into the dark, his lips pressing into your cheeks, lips stinging from the salt of your silently falling tears as you speak.

"No one's takin' me nowhere, pet." he promises with a gravelly tone, hands moving to your chest, hands desperate and firm against you as his kisses were planted with no rhyme or reason. "I'm stayin' wif you, yeah? Always." he moves down, lips fast to your chest. "Not even death is gonna make me leave you Chanah. You understand?" he asks with a harshness to his voice that makes your heart flutter.

"Stay alive. Stay with me. I can't have him take you away. I can't. I-" your words are rushed out in your desperation for him to understand.

"Shhhh." he presses his lips against yours, hands now up your gown and moving over your hips. "No one's takin' me, love. I'm yours. None of 'ems worth shedding a tear over. He's dead. I killed him for you. I'd kill anyone to avenge ya, love. Anyfin'. Everyone. You're mine and I'm your keeper now. No one hurts you and gets away with it anymore. No one." With the desperate words come more desperate kisses and hands. Your clothes quickly removed and the air heavy with a twisted, romantic agony that serves both of your dark sides. You are filled with a heartbroken lust for each other, as if it could be the last time you had him in your bed. As if he could be taken away come morning, you loved him.

"Ari I love you. Please, darling." you pant out, so many emotions rushing through you, your body feeling on edge and tense, his skin the only thing that warmed you and eased your suffering.

His lips suck against you, taking in the buds of your breasts, the softness of your stomach as he nips at your thighs, parting them and resting himself between them. "And I more than love you, Chanah. Never you worry that beautiful mind over any other man. It's all my burden to bear for you now." he huffs out, his mouth spilling out words without much thought or consequence as your legs locked around him, him grinding himself against your center.

"How dutifully you love me, Ari. How sick we are for each other. How mad have we let ourselves be for love?" you moan as he pushes into you, your sincere words being expressed physically by you both. "To have let ourselves become so dependent on another?"

"I am as demented as a man can be." he pants, lips moving back to your own, a heavy hand on your thigh, the other by your head on the bed, latched into your hair. "I will serve you as long as I live in this fuckin' insanity, my love. I no longer wish to be called sane since lovin' you. There is no going back to who we were before now is there? Only this madness. Only us." he pumps into you with careless thrusts, your mouths open and molded against one another, speaking hurried and passionate words as you shared the same breath.

"Only us." you moan out, hands clutching to his back. "Only you darling. There's only you now." you cry out, as your eyes squeeze shut and tears break through. Your life was now one you felt. He had taken a life in the name of your honor, to help you heal a part of yourself that you couldn't do on your own. There would never again be another Prittance to hurt you. Alfie would never leave you alone because of something another man did to you. He would always believe you over any man's word. He would never hurt you, abuse or use you in the ways other men would. You were safe now. You were with a man who would kill for you and you the same for him. You were both irreversibly connected in this love you'd found. It felt like madness. Like you were losing yourself, something becoming unhinged as you let yourself open up to the possibilities. You didn't need any sort of ceremony to define it for you, in this moment your bodies as one and your breath shared you were reconciled to the time your souls had spent apart. He had given you something you didn't know you needed. He gave you himself, fully, making your hurt his. He would carry your pain with you, and it had been so lonely and heavy all these years.

"You are mine, my love. Mine." he groans through gritted teeth against your throat. "My hunger for you knows no bounds. I want all of you. Good and bad. As long as it's you I need it." he moans, both your voces lilting higher.

"I'm yours. All yours. Take me." your voice sounds like you're begging, and maybe you were. You were finally loved enough to give yourself over to it. You let it engulf you, drowning willingly as his hips grew faster and harder, the sweat and tears from you both dripping across your skin, you could almost taste the intensity of it as your lips rhythmicly pushed againgst his head and shoulder, whimpering your revelation to him. With your eyes closed, your face feeling the brush of his hair and beard, you bask in the smell of him, soap and musk, your tongue reaching out to take him in with every sense.

Your mouth open and panting, taste the sting of salt against your lips as the sounds that emanated from you were no longer voluntary, both of you sounding angry as your bodies found their end. The painful night you'd both had concluded where it should, it each other's arms. You lie together in a tangled mess, your skin pinked and now covered in bumps as the chill of the air hits you before he encases you in a cave of covers.

He lay across your chest, your fingers combing through his damp hair as you felt his breath fan across your neck where his rough cheek was planted on your sternum. "Alife?" you breathily whisper.

He pushes the covers back, exposing yourselves to the darkness. "Mmm?" is the grunt he manages, his muscles now sending signals to loosen and shut down at the weight of the day they had carried.

"I know people think me mad." you begin, your voice heavy with honesty, a softness that only comes with true vulnerability is laced within it and his ears pick up on it the moment your swollen lips part to speak. "I have been at times. I'll admit. But it was only temporary. For the purpose of completing something." your voice trails and his blue eyes catch the light, looking over your face cast in shadows. "But I've never let myself need anyone else. Ever. Not my mother, not Altar, no one." you pause and sigh, wetting your lips as you projected your eyes down to his face, set in an open and honest pose against your skin. "It..." you let out a small noise of discomfort and he raises his head to get a better look at you. "It frightens me." you confess, your brow furrowed, chest now rising and falling slowly beneath him, the rush of the deed now passed, but the emotions still moving frantically in your mind.

"Fear has it's place." he says with an agreeable nod. "But that place is not our love." he assures you simply, a kiss to your forehead. "C'mere my precious flower." he says, grunting and moving to his side and taking you into his arms tightly. He speaks quietly to you, his hand holding your chin up as your face wants to bury itself in the warm and thick seclusion of his chest. "Know you have no reason for fear when it comes to me. I will not leave you, as I know you need me as well. We wouldn't purposely do irreversible damage to something that has come to us in such perfect condition would we?"

"Never." you whisper in response.

He presses his lips to your head as it shakes gently back and forth in support of your sentiment. "You are a strong woman, Chanah. The strongest that I know. Tenacious to a fault." he smiles against your hair and closes his eyes, letting you retreat to the safety of his embrace. "The only fear I know now is losing you. And it is frightening, have no doubt. To make yourself reliant on another. As we both know us humans are so terribly flawed." he sighs. "But isn't that what makes it so astoundin' love? That we, in all our imperfection, found somethin' that we fear. We were not wholly human before. There is no man without fear, for without it he isn't a man. But now we know it. Now we are so frightfully human we are aware of how fragile we are in actuality." his voice is soft and smooth, the certainty of his words, some you had said to him before calm you. He was so eloquent in his rough delivery of sentiment to you. But the coarse voice made the brilliant words that much more charming to you. "You have taught me, yeah? In all your beauty and art, that the messy parts of us are what make us human. And our love is that pet, it is messy. It's only perfect in that it was made for us. Nothin' else comes so easy. Not with people like us. You're dramatic, I'm stubborn as an old 'orse and we're both prone to outbursts at the expense of those 'round us." he let's out a tiny huff of a laugh. "But it's who we are. We ain't changin' it now." he lets out a gruff laugh and he feels your shoulder shift as you smile against him, face nuzzling into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you fully, pulling your body against his fully.

"I wouldn't want you to change." you murmur against him.

"'N 'at, see? 'At's love. Ya puttin' up with me, me puttin up wif you. Although I do say I got the much betta bargain out the two, love." he grins and squeezes you, pressing his face into your hair. "I love ya to pieces, Genny. I do. To the point of madness. Always. Never question it. Ya got nothin' to fear when it comes to me lovin' you, yeah?"

You nod and move your arm to around his waist. "I've never loved someone like I love you." you admit, your eyes shut and feeling the soft scratch of his chest hair against your face.

"Nor I you." he whispers in agreement.

"And you aren't frightened by it?"

"Why would I be frightened if you are the one keepin' me heart? I know no one more perfect for such a job."

You hum happily. "I'm not perfect. But I am yours." you say, kissing his exposed skin.

"You need your rest." he hums, feeling his body settle and relax against yours. "No other reason for you to say such nonsense as you not bein' perfect."

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girlwiththepapatattoo · 6 years

Text

Chiaroscuro, Chapter 39

Warnings: Violence, death, torture, unprotected sex, blood play, Papa and Johannes being much more than their usual selves.

Tags: @bitch-image @hannibalssweaters @reclusive-cat-lady @eiszeit-apokalypse @limerami @saekkos @yournewsatanistboyfriend @angelfallenspirit @loveliestofstars @kshandra @rocket-dancer @bakedbybeelzebub @blood-ghuleh @jitterbugs927 @inferuscorvus @ptite-shit

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Enjoy!

You sigh as you turn to face your landlord, a tall, greasy man with thinning hair and frown lines around his mouth. “Where the fucking hell have you been?! You’re a month behind on your rent! One more week and I was going to send your shit to Goodwill!”

“Crap,” you mutter under your breath. Now that he’s yelling about it, you realize that rent had been due when you went to the concert all those weeks ago; you had planned to drop the check off the next day. “Umm, family emergency, Frank, I’m sorry. I have the check upstairs in my apartment, I’ll bring it down to you.” You take a deep breath. “Also, I’m moving out.”

“Like hell you are. You haven’t given notice.”

“I am now.”

“This ain’t no thirty days, darlin’. You gotta give me thirty days’ written notice.” He sneers. “You can kiss your security deposit good-bye.”

Johannes, John, and Henrik all growl under their breaths, and Papa steps forward. “She will not need it anyway. Move along, scum.”

Frank opens his mouth to snarl at him, but then notices his two-toned stare and swallows in spite of himself. Nevertheless, he plows on. “Go fuck yourself, weirdo. You her fuckin’ pimp or something? You won’t get much business outta her.” Frank then takes notice of the wolves. “What, you all pimping her out? Or are you assholes customers? Christ, you fuckers must be desperate if you’re willing to pay for a piece of her.”

One instant Johannes is standing next to you; the next instant the clown is in front of your landlord, the terrifying grin that splits his lips extending even further thanks to the makeup that appears on his face, advancing on him so quickly that Frank backs himself up against the wall, smacking his head against the concrete. “Sounds like you need a lesson in manners. Lucky for you, I am an EXCELLENT teacher.”

You can’t help but grin. This asshole has been a thorn in your side for months. “Johannes, if you want to keep him busy...learning, go ahead. I’ll just go pack my things.” You pat him happily on the back and then keep going up the stairs. Everyone glares at the man on the way up.

Frank scowls through his shakes. “Y-You can’t hurt me, fucker, I-I have friends in the cops!”

“How nice for you. I have friends in Hell!” you hear Johannes say, his crazy clown voice sounding dark and menacing.

“Five bucks says that asshole is already pissing his pants,” Henrik says.

“That’s not even a fair bet, dude,” John says as he punches Henrik’s arm.

You get into your old apartment and burst out laughing, pumping a fist in the air. “That was amazing! I’ve wanted that asshole put in his place for ages!”

Papa scowls. “A waste of human skin that a decent soul could have used. I hope Johannes doesn’t go easy on him—I certainly did not want to. After he said those things about you...” The air starts darkening around his head—Papa is well and truly pissed off.

“Well, if you’re lucky, Johannes will leave something behind for you to play with,” John says as he pauses to listen before closing the door.

“Did I just hear him squeal like a little girl?” you ask. John just smiles. “Karma is my favorite,” you say, then turn to look at your apartment. It’s run-down, dingy, and sad-looking, none of which is helped by the musty smell and what looks to be... “Ew! Mouse carcass! Yuck! Dammit, if mice got into my books, I swear...” You cast another humiliated look at Papa, John, and Henrik. “If you promise not to look too closely at this hellhole, I promise to pack fast.”

“My love, do not worry about any of us judging you. We are even more impressed with how you’ve handled this...place.” Papa smirks faintly. “I assume that you do not want to stay here more than necessary. We will help. Do you have bags?”

You look embarrassed again. “I have a few, but mostly I have boxes...let me get them out.” You move into your tiny bedroom to get them out, yelping as you stub your toe on your tiny desk.

“Stupid desk...” you grumble as you hop on one foot over to the closet. You yank out your two duffel bags for your clothes, then start digging out the boxes...most of which have holes in them from the mice. “Dammit, dammit,” you mutter as you sort through them, trying to figure out which are still usable...and that’s when you find, in the last box, the mouse nest.

You sigh, rubbing your face as you see tiny little pink jelly beans squirming in a nest of paper and cloth, and a momma mouse looking them over. “You’re just trying to survive here, like I did.” You slide the box back into the closet and worry about the ones on the bed. Most of them are usable still, and you tape them up and start throwing things in. John and Henrik come in and grab some boxes as well, leaving to go pack up your books after giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You empty your closet, and yank clothes from the rickety dresser in the corner of the room, trying to work as quickly as you can. You just want out of here. Papa finds you in the minuscule bathroom, tossing personal items into your smaller duffel. “John and Henrik have your books packed. What else do you want? Any of the furniture?”

“Gods no, most of this came with the place. I’m almost done here.” You stop and look at him. “How sad is my life? This horrid place, my worthless jobs... I should have just let Frank send everything to Goodwill.”

“If these things are important to you, then it is worth the trip. Do not let that...thing out there touch your belongings, my love.” He turns you to face the cloudy mirror, his face next to yours in the glass, a smirk on his lips. His gloved fingers come up and stroke down your jawline, and you shiver. “Would you like a quickie right here, lovely? Watch my face as I fuck you? Leave this place with a good memory?”

You giggle, a little breathless. “Are we able to do quickies? Seems like we need at least an hour every time we touch...”

Papa smirks. “My goddess...we have been together a while now...but do you really think that means you know everything I can do?” He leans forward, keeping eye contact in the glass, and rolls his hips against your ass. “I can make you come in five minutes.”

Even through the mirror, there’s no denying the sizzle of desire in his gaze. You push back against him, hissing a little at the feel of his erection pressing against you. “Promise?”

“Promise...” His hands waste no time in undoing your jeans and yanking them down your legs, then undoing his own pants enough to pull his cock out.. He pulls a glove off and slides his fingers along your entrance, making you moan. “More than ready, as always.” And he strokes his cock into you smoothly.

The noise you make as he slides into you is low, sultry, sinful. “Don’t close your eyes,” he whispers. “Look at me...watch me fuck you...” His ungloved hand moves against your clit as his gloved hand slides into your hair, grabbing hold and keeping you focused on your reflection In the mirror. “Watch me come in you...”

Your arousal ramps higher and higher as you watch Papa’s eyes darken in lust and love. “You are so beautiful, my goddess, so glorious taking me...you’re going to come so hard against my fingers and cock...” His fingers on your clit suddenly makes a motion that feels like ten fingers on your clit instead of two, and you wail his name, legs shaking as you feel the coil tightening in your belly.

“Don’t stop...don’t stop...” you whisper, and his thrusts get faster, harder.

“I won’t,” he murmurs. “Watch...watch yourself come...” He makes that motion again and you explode, crying out as you gush around his cock and into his hand.

He cries out your name as he spills into you, hips stuttering, before slowing to a halt as he breathes hard against your shoulder. You pant his name, fingers uncurling from around the sink to slide into his hair. “...What was that motion you did?! Holy shit...” you gasp, heart still hammering.

He laughs into your shoulder. “A secret technique from Satan themselves.” And he sounds so serious that you believe him.

“Remind me....to thank them...next time...we see them...” you say, letting out a breathless giggle as Papa nibbles your neck. “You make me...so hot...so crazy... I don’t even know how...”

Papa smirks into your skin. “It’s my charm, my love.” His nose runs over your skin, inhaling your scent with a sigh. “I love making you lose your mind...but would you like to know a secret?” Your eyes meet in the mirror as he whispers into your ear, “You make me lose my mind too.” Another ten minutes go by before you both exit the bathroom, carrying boxes, your entire body shaking and sweat running down the side of your face. Papa looks smug beyond all reason.

You set the boxes and your duffel bag with the rest of the packed boxes and when you straighten up, John and Henrik are so close to you, you jump. “H-hey, what...”

John runs his nose up along one side of your neck, while Henrik lifts your hair and scents the back of your neck. Henrik hums. “You smell like you just had a good hot fuck,” he murmurs.

“I...I did,” you say shakily.

“Would you like another?” He and John both growl into your skin.

“I-I...O-Oh...” You have to admit, even if the thought of them smelling you all the time is embarrassing, you are beginning to really enjoy it. It is such an intimate thing, and it feels so good to have their noses run against your skin... “W-When...w-when we get back, my loves. I just want to go home.” You shiver hard though, and your clit throbs at the feeling of them so close to you. “W-We should, um, go and check on Johannes, see if Frank is still alive...”

“Oh, Johannes doesn’t need our help to take care of good ol’ Frank,” John says in a low voice, a chuckle in his words as he gives your neck a lick. “He’s had plenty of experience dealing with assholes.”

“We’ll wait til we get home ... but only just,” Henrik adds. “So be ready...”

You shiver hard again, but nod. “I will, I will...”

John groans. “I’ve been wanting you since you squirted into the fire...fuck that was so hot...”

Papa, in the meanwhile, has left the apartment, walking down the stairs to see Johannes still grinning at Frank. “We are about ready. Are you done with this worm yet?”

“Done? Why, Papa, we’re just getting started,” the clown says, one large hand pinning Frank to the wall by his neck, the other gripping his balls. Papa can see that the slimy man is worse for wear: his face is moist with sweat, bruises mark his cheek and arms, and a trickle of blood runs from his nose. At least three fingers have been broken, though Johannes looks untouched. “Frank and I are going to be the best of friends, aren’t we...Ffffrrrrraannkk?” As he draws out the name, the clown squeezes the other man’s balls, and Frank squeals again.

Papa laughs softly. “Oh, I’m sure you will be. But our love is ready to go home, and we must plan what we are going to say at the meeting.”

Frank, it seems, really doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut, because he snorts and rasps, “Love? She’s a fuckin’ tramp, comin’ back all hours of the night and morning. She—”

Papa goes demon form so fast that Johannes is nearly knocked down the stairs from the force wave. Frank opens his mouth to scream, and Papa’s hand slams over it, knocking Frank’s head into the wall with a sickening smack, muffling his panicked screams into his palm. “You do not speak of her like that. You do not speak of any woman like that, or any man. You are slime, you are scum, and My Infernal Lord will have great fun torturing the...thing that insulted Their favored. Johannes, my love...rip his balls off.”

With a high-pitched laugh, the clown digs in just far enough to leave marks, and Frank starts to yell into Papa’s hand, then Johannes suddenly stops. “Oh but, Papa, then all my fun is over, much too quickly. And besides, Frank wants me to visit, don’t you, Ffffrrrraaannkkk?” Papa uses his hand to make Frank nod, as he screams. “So I’ll just start ripping now, then come back every few days to rip a little more, won’t that be fun?”

Papa just keeps staring into Frank’s eyes. “Johannes. This scum called our love a tramp, more than once. He insinuated that she isn’t worth loving. He insinuated that she wouldn’t be good in bed. He. Insinuated. That. She. Is. Not. Beautiful.” Then he smiles. “And, clumsy me, he’s seen me in my demon form.” His hand tightens. “He’s not living beyond today.”

The clown frowns. “Papa, you take all the fun out of torturing someone.” He tilts his head, and that terrifying grin is back again. “But ya gotta take ya fun where ya can, don’t ya think so, Frank ol buddy ol pal?”

Papa smirks. “I am sorry for ruining your fun, my love. In return, you may have the pleasure of killing him.” His hand tightens again, and he hears a faint crack as the bone in the side of Frank’s jaw snaps, and the man squeals in pain.

“Ladies and gentlemen, your hero has returned again,” the clown starts singing quietly, right in Frank’s ear, “everything is going to be ok ... hey, hey, Hey, HEY!” He screams in Frank’s ear as he crushes his balls in his hand. Frank’s scream would have been ear-piercing if Papa’s hand wasn’t covering his mouth.

Papa simply smiles, keeping the sound from escaping too far. He watches the blood start dripping from the scum’s pants, and the tears that start falling from the man’s face. “Your pain is delicious...”

“Should have brought my trusty knife,” the clown singsongs. “Easier to take your life, when I have my lovely knife.” He lets out a giggle. “Did you like my poem? I wrote it just for you, Ffffrrraaaannnkk.”

Papa laughs as Frank just whimpers. “I think he enjoyed it, my love. I do not mean to rush, but unless you want our goddess to catch this little performance...”

“Well fuck. You’ve got a point, Papa.” He glances up the stairwell quickly, then looks back at the suffering landlord. “Ahh, Frank, I’m so sorry our time together has to be cut short. But don’t be sad ... maybe I’ll come visit you in Hell ... like I said, I have friends there. And look.” The clown’s grin somehow gets larger and more terrifying. “I found my knife!” He produces a knife seemingly from out of nowhere and slits the landlord’s throat. “Bye, Frank...for now.”

Papa removes his hand, and the only sound now is the gurgling of the dying man as he slides down to the floor. The demon snaps his fingers and Frank’s body is gone, along with any blood splatter. He looks at his clown and smiles, star-light left eye blazing, and he takes the other man’s hand and starts licking the blood off. “Bitter. Not very good, but that’s not surprising.”

The clown closes his eyes at the feel of Papa’s tongue on his hand. “Just goes to show, you can’t have everything, even when you’re a demon.” He opens his eyes, watching Papa work. “Our goddess is right, you know.” At Papa’s raised eyebrow, he continues, “You’re hot when you go all demon.”

Papa snickers. “I believe she said I was beautiful.”

“Same thing.” The clown smiles and wraps his free arm around Papa to draw him close, pulling him into a deep kiss. “Hot, beautiful, deadly...” His kiss gets rougher, harsher, and he laughs as he accidentally slices open his lip on one of Papa’s fangs. Papa growls and slides his now-elongated tongue against the tear in the clown’s flesh, and he makes an almost choked sound of pleasure at how good his clown’s blood tastes. His clawed hands hold tight to Johannes’s long hair, and he moves from his mouth to his neck, biting down near his shoulder. Johannes all but bellows at the feeling, before leaning forward and biting Papa in return. “No fair that you get all the fun here!”

“Be my guest, my love. Sup from me,” Papa groans, lapping at the wound he made and moaning at the way Johannes suckles at his own bite. Thanks to Johannes’s healing saliva, the wound closes quickly, and he pulls back up to kiss the demon, the taste of each other’s blood mixing in their mouths.

Papa moans into the kiss, and slowly lets his human form filter back. It wouldn’t do to have some random tenant walk by and see a demon standing there. Reluctantly, he pulls away, and he smirks to his clown, who spits into his hand to rub it over the bite mark in his neck. “Come, let us return to our goddess. I’m sure she is curious enough.” Papa takes Johannes’s hand and starts trudging up the stairs. “This place is ridiculous. I think I will lobby the church’s public works division about paying to renovate it.”

The clown energy fades away as they make their way up the stairs, and soon he is just Johannes again as Papa chats about how the building could be renovated. They reach your apartment door and Johannes looks around as they step inside. “Fucking Christ,” he breathes, “thank fuck we’re getting her out of here.”

“I wholeheartedly agree. This place is not fit for anything living.” He steps inside and blinks to see John on the floor between your legs, nuzzling into your still-clothed groin, and Henrik to your side, your shirt pulled up, sucking hickeys into your chest. He chuckles. “I take it you smelled our little bit of fun earlier.”

“Shit, Papa, this smells like more than a little bit of fun,” John said on a groan. “That was a helluva fuck, and you know it.”

Papa grins. “Every time we are with her it’s a helluva fuck, wouldn’t you agree?”

Henrik stops sucking on you long enough to say, “Yes...so let’s get back to the church. I’m...hungry.”

Johannes laughs and claps Henrik on the shoulder. “Couldn’t have said it better myself!”

“H-Hang on, I need to give Frank that check.”

“He said he doesn’t need it. He’s had a...change of heart, it seems.” Papa smiles to you, then calls out, “We are all set, my lord!”

In a blink, the five of you are all back in Papa’s rooms, and in a second blink, your boxes and duffel bags are sitting in a neat pile in one corner of the room. “Did I miss anything, my treat?” you hear.

“If you did, I’ll let you know,” you say, a little disoriented at how quickly your morning has gone so far.

“Thank you, my lord. Invaluable as always.” Papa feels a kiss on his cheek, as does Johannes. The wolf also hears, in his mind, *What a show, my pup. I’ll tell Frank you say hi.*

*Let him know I’ll be by to visit, that should make him happy,* Johannes responds mentally with a cheeky grin. Satan laughs as their energy slips away. A little cry from you makes Johannes turn his head to see Henrik pulling you into his arms with a little growl. “Told you to be ready, precious.”

John grins, pressing against your side and kissing you deeply, before asking Henrik, “Would you like to eat her first?”

“Yes, thank you.” He turns you so you lean back against John then drops to his knees, working on your pants. “I want you all over my face, my love...”

Papa smiles at the scene. “I suppose you’ll have to wait to unpack. Johannes, Special, Jonas, everyone else—we need to discuss the meeting.”

While the others gather around the couch and coffee table and begin outlining the meeting, John rutches your shirt up and slides his warm hands inside the cups of your bra and Henrik roughly yanks your jeans down and off your legs. He buries his nose in the crotch of your panties and growls long and loud. “You and Papa soaked the fuck out of these panties, smells so fucking good.”

You moan in luxurious pleasure at first, arching into John’s warm hands, loving the feel of his calloused skin on yours. But then you hear and see Henrik doing this and you squeak, blushing darkly. “N-Not again! Y-You guys, stop smelling my panties like that!”

Henrik laughs into the crotch of them. “How can we when they smell so good?” He opens the panties wide for you to see, and, holding your gaze, takes a long lick.

Your blush gets darker and John growls in your ear. “He has a very good point, my dearest,” Jonas says absently as he looks at the list Papa is writing out.

Henrik rips your panties off you and offers them up to John. “Want some?”

“Yes please,” John replies with another growl, and he releases one of your breasts to grab the material and hold it to his face with a muffled groan.

“I am in such...big...trouble...” you whisper to yourself.

John laughs against the material of your underwear. “Oh, you have no idea...as soon as you stepped out of that bathroom, we could smell it on you...your arousal, your cum, Papa’s cum...your satisfaction smells incredible...”

“And now we’re going to feast on it,” Henrik growls, and he hoists your legs up around his shoulders. You gasp as he wastes no time diving in and shoving his tongue as far inside you as he can.

John adjusts his hold on you, and puts the hand holding your panties over your mouth. “Gotta keep you quiet so we don’t disturb their meeting,” he murmurs in your ear, licking the shell and then suckling on the lobe as you cry out into his hand, the sensation of Henrik’s tongue inside you and his nose nudging your clit sending you into immediate overload.

Henrik growls into your pussy, hands keeping your lower lips spread apart. You shudder as you feel his tongue slide along your inner walls, and he moves his head in such a way that his nose is continually rubbing your clit. After the intensity with Papa not too long ago, you’re not going to last long. From the couch you hear Papa say in exasperation, “Of course they are going to ask you about how your time just after Jonas changed. They want all the information they can get!”

You try to keep your hips from bucking, until Henrik stops licking you long enough to say, “No, go ahead, darling, I want you to shove your cunt in my face.” You whine at his words and let go; your hips are soon snapping as you do exactly what he wants while he devours your entire pussy.

He moans loudly as you rub all over his face. He loves it, loves feeling your essence all over his skin. John groans, murmuring praises into your neck, fingers rolling and caressing your nipples.

That coil of sensation deep inside your belly winds tighter and tighter, and your orgasm is so close you can almost see it. You thrash against Henrik’s face, reaching for it, and grunt into John’s hand. When Henrik slides one finger into you, alongside his tongue, and rubs your g-spot hard as his nose rubs your clit, you hear the ghouls and wolves chuckle, and the coil snaps inside you, unleashing your orgasm, and you squirt on Henrik’s face.

Henrik cries out into your cunt as you soak him. His face, his hair—he’s covered in you, and his fingers and tongue and nose move mercilessly on you, drawing out your orgasm and soaking him even further. The ghouls on the couch shudder as they feel it, and John growls into your ear, hips rutting against your back.

Your cries of pleasure, muffled by John’s hand, start to subside, morph into actual sobs. Your orgasm is still twitching through you when Henrik finally pulls his mouth away from you with a rough gasp. “That was fucking incredible...I’ve never been drenched like that before...” He nibbles on your inner thigh. “Do you think you can do that for John too, my love? Come all over his face?”

“I can.... I can try,” you whimper when John takes his hand away.

John chuckles. “I can wait until later, my love. You and Henrik need to get cleaned up for this meeting thing anyway. Besides,” his nose slides up the side of your neck, “I know for sure you can do it again if you have some time in between....” He nips you playfully, then pats your ass. “Go on then, both of you.”

Henrik flicks him upside the head. “Yes, dad.”

They stand you up, but your knees buckle and Henrik catches you. “Here, beautiful, let me help you,” and he picks you up and carries you into the bathroom with no effort at all. He sets you on the counter and turns on the shower, then helps you take off what’s left of your clothing. “Quick shower, then maybe I won’t want to crawl up in you and eat you some more,” he says with a playful snap of his jaws.

You laugh through your blush. “I have to admit, I definitely like being eaten...” Then you grin ruefully. “I just worry I won’t have the stamina for training with all of you so...hungry for me all the time...”

Henrik smiles softly, stepping between your legs as the water warms. He kisses you, gently, and you taste yourself on his lips. “My precious, we know your training is important. We won’t do anything you can’t handle.”

“I have such mixed feelings about training,” you say as you stroke his arms and press your forehead against his chest. “I’m ready to start, and I want to learn...but I had such a hard time getting even a little bit of the basics down, I’m afraid I’m not going to learn any of this... What if I’m too dense to get it?”

“My love, you saved Avatar Country. And you did it untrained. I have confidence that you will be able to master whatever you put your mind to.” He leans in and kisses you, an impossibly sweet kiss that has your insecurities melting away.

You press your forehead to his. “I hope so, Henrik.”

“Hey, half the battle is your mindset, my love.” Henrik taps the side of your head. “You go into it thinking you can’t? Well...you can’t. But you start out thinking you’re already doing it? You’re programming your mind for success.”

You consider his words. “Makes sense, I guess ... hmmm....” You kiss him back, your hand on his cheek. “Thank you, Henrik. I think that might actually help me.”

Henrik smiles. “Anytime, my love. Just be prepared to work hard.”

You sigh. “Yeah, I’ve already had a taste...but I’m determined to make you all proud.”

“And I know you will. Come on, I need to wash you off me before I just take you against the counter again.”

You inhale sharply at the visual his words create in your mind, then shake your head. “Gods, you guys turn me on with just your words, you know that?”

Henrik laughs softly and helps you into the shower. “What can I say? We know what we want and don’t mind telling you.” He tilts your head back under the water, letting it wet your hair down. “Exactly. What. We. Want.” His teeth nip against your neck softly.

You sigh at his touch. “I...I like that you all tell me...what you want, what you like, what you’re ...feeling. I don’t feel like I have to guess, or figure it out like it’s a puzzle.” You caress his face and smile softly. “I just... I know.”

He smiles against your skin, fingers helping the water through your hair gently. “I hope that you do the same for us. Whatever you’re feeling, you know that you can tell us and we won’t be put out, right?”

You hesitate, blushing faintly. “I...I’ll get better with that, I promise. I’m just so used to relying on myself...”

Henrik hums as you return the favor, running your fingers through his hair as the shower soaks it. “I imagine after what happened with your...ex...that it is hard for you to open up and trust anyone, men especially.” He cups your face. “We all understand that, my love, and we’re all here to show you through our actions that you can trust us, open up to us, rely on us... for everything.”

You look up at him, cupping his cheek softly. “I know, Henrik...and part of me wants to. I worked so hard for so long that I just want to lie back and let you all take care of everything...but I...I can’t. My work ethic won’t let me. I can...I can rely on you for some things. Like excellent oral skills,” you say with a grin. “But...But I want to help you all as much as I can. I...I want to be strong, so that I can protect myself.”

“And we want that too, darling, believe me, we do.” Henrik laughed softly. “I suppose I misspoke...I didn’t mean that we want you to rely on us for every single thing. We know you have your own mind and that you’re capable of taking care of yourself. But you have to remember, half of your lovers are wolves—all five of us are alpha wolves whose natural instinct is to take care of our loved ones, especially our lover. It’s a biological need for us to take care of you.”

You blink. “Really? I see...I’ll try to remember that, my love.” You immediately prove yourself wrong by reaching for the shampoo yourself, and he laughs as he grabs it away.

“That didn’t last long, did it?” He smirks as he pours some shampoo out. “I made a mess, I should clean it up...” You shiver hard at his tone, biting your lip as you watch him slide his hands over your hair.

He lathers your hair, building up the suds as he massages your scalp, then letting the excess suds slide off your hair and onto your skin. He makes a noise in the back of his throat as the soap suds glide along your breasts, your nipples peeking through. “So beautiful,” he whispers.

You shiver hard, nipples tightening under his gaze. “So are you...All of you are so damn gorgeous that I still wonder how you’re all mine...” You take his soaped-up hands and press them eagerly to your breasts, sighing as his calloused fingers glide smoothly over your skin.

“I don’t,” he says quietly. “When I see this courageous, sweet, loving, kind, generous soul ... I don’t wonder at all.” He brings you close to him, kissing you deeply under the fall of water. “You are worth every kiss, every touch, every moment.”

You shiver, eyes welling with joyful tears as you wrap your arms around his neck. The warm water and his even warmer body feel so good, so relaxing, and you melt into his embrace, fingers tangling gently into his wet hair.

After a few minutes, Henrik whispers in your ear, “Let’s finish up here, darling. Papa and Jonas are going to want us both there, I think.”

You sigh, wishing you could just sit in the shower all day and knowing you can’t. “All right. Let me wash your hair, I love to run my hands through it.”

He smiles. “I definitely will not say no.” He hands you the shampoo and steps under the spray, wetting his hair thoroughly, which due to its thickness takes a while.

He turns for you, and you lather up his hair, sighing in pleasure as you run your fingers through the soapy strands. “You all have such beautiful hair...”

Henrik chuckles. “It’s our good wolf genes, I guess.” You giggle, and soon both of you are laughing as you help each other wash and rinse.

Eventually you come out of the bathroom, refreshed and smiling, and you come over to join the men on the couch. “So,” you say, looking around at everyone. “How’s the planning going?”

“It’s...it’s going.” Jonas sighs. “This meeting is going to be...well, not easy. But we will get through it.”

“Of course we will.” You rub his shoulder encouragingly. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Papa smiles at you. “It’s sweet of you to ask. You are certainly welcome to look over our agenda here...if you see something you think we’re forgetting to include. But don’t you want to unpack your things?”

“Well,” you say carefully. “I suppose it depends on what this council says. If we end up moving to Avatar Country after the tour, then there really isn’t a need to unpack my stuff, is there?”

Water chuckles. “She has a point.”

Papa laughs. “Whatever you wish. Anyway, here. The council will want to know what happened while you were alone there. So do not be surprised when they call on you to speak.”

“I sort of figured they would.” While you look over the list, Jonas looks to Aether and nods, and the ghoul grins and goes over to Papa’s closet, bringing out a few clothing bags and small boxes, spreading them out on the bed for when you’re done.

You point out a few things to Papa, but mostly you nod over everything they have written down. “It all looks good.” As you hand the papers back to Papa you take in his expression, the slight tremor in his hand, Jonas’s furrowed brow. “You’re really worried about this, aren’t you? Do you really think the council won’t agree?”

“It is not that, my love. Satan is in favor of this plan, so I’m sure that they will step in if the council are stubborn about it.” The dark pope leans back with a sigh. “However, they may try to separate us, to keep you here to use. Which I do not think Satan will allow to happen, but...I dread the confrontation.”

You scowl. “Let them try to do that! I’m not leaving any of you, I refuse!”

Jonas takes your hand, kissing your knuckles softly. “It will not come to that, my love.”

“Well, it had better not! I don’t belong to the council, they don’t get to decide what happens to me!” You look around at all the somber faces of your loves. “They wouldn’t dare try, would they?”

Special spreads his hands out with a shrug. “They may. Lovely girl, you forget, or maybe you just don’t realize, how very powerful—and how very VERY rare—you are. Conduits aren’t thick on the ground...you’re the only one I’ve ever known. Certainly the only one the clergy has ever known. They may not....” He looks at Papa, who nods. “They may not let us take you.”

Tears well up and fall down your cheeks instantly, but then you feel a soft touch on your hair. You turn to look, but there isn’t anything there. Regardless a voice rings out. “Do not cry, my precious treat. They will not go against a direct order from me. I will be there physically, and I will make sure they won’t separate you.”

You close your eyes, nodding, swallowing hard and wiping your tears away. “Thank you, Satan.”

“Oh my treat, you can truly thank me later,” they say with a chuckle.

Papa smiles, seemingly brushing his own tears away. “We should probably start getting ready, they are expecting us in about half an hour, and it won’t do to be late.”

“I um...I don’t think I have anything nice enough to wear...” you say, voice small.

Jonas smiles and offers you his hand, helping you to stand. “Thankfully, Aether and I took care of that while you were gone this morning.”

He turns you to the bed, and you see three garment bags and four boxes spread out over the bed. Your eyes widen. “W-What did you guys do?!” Papa smiles as he starts changing into his papal robes. He wonders himself what they got you.

“Aether and I had a little time to kill this morning...this is what happens when a ghoul and a wolf get bored.” Jonas chuckles from behind you, then puts his arms around you and presses a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s not much...at least nowhere near what I want to do and what I think you need and deserve. We just wanted to surprise you, make your eyes sparkle.” He lays his cheek against your temple. “Did it work?”

You bite your lip, leaning your head gently into Jonas’s temple in return. “I..I’m not used to gifts like this...I always feel awkward accepting things. But...” You look at Henrik and remember his words. “I-I’ll try not to...not to put up a fuss.”

Aether laughs softly. “I suppose that’s better than what we thought would happen. Darling girl, you are adorable. Go ahead, open them up!”

You look at them both, suddenly feeling shy and awkward, and then Fire is there, grabbing your hand. “Come on, girlfriend, let’s see what royal taste looks like these days! We’ll dress you up and see if we can make Johannes’s tongue fall out!”

You look at the man in question and he’s watching you with dark eyes, which makes you flush even more and swallow. To distract you from the wolf who seems to want to eat you alive (again), you turn to the first garment bag and open it. Inside is a beautiful black dress, the silky material feeling like water through your hands. You gasp, eyes wide as you look at the jewels sewn around the waistline, sapphires and moonstones sparkling in the light. You look at Jonas and Aether, speechless, then start looking for a price tag, and you frown when you see they’d taken it off. There’s also matching lingerie and shoes, and you just know the smaller box is jewelry. “You guys...this one outfit would have cost me more than I made in a year!”

“That’s just speculation,” Aether says, and he comes over and kisses you. “You have no proof. And anyway, you’re going to look absolutely stunning in it, so we had no choice but to get it for you. We have a physical need to see you wearing it. You wouldn’t deprive us of a physical need, would you?”

“But—”

“Ah-ah-ah,” Aether interrupts you, laying a finger over your lips. “You said you wouldn’t put up a fuss. This? Is the beginning of a fuss.”

You stare at him, your independence and your need to be frugal warring with the impractical side of you that hasn’t been indulged in far too long. “Come now,” Jonas whispers. “Let us do this for you... let us spoil you... let all of us spoil you...”

Aether smiles and picks up the jewelry box next to the dress. “Open it, darling. Please.” Hands shaking, you take the box and, after hesitating only a second, you open it. Inside is a necklace and earring set, matching sapphires and moonstones over silver that are worked into a vine pattern. You gasp at its beauty, tears rolling down your face—you have no idea how to take gifts like this. “It’s...oh, Aether, Jonas, it’s so beautiful...”

“It doesn’t even come close to being as beautiful as you, my precious flower,” Jonas says. “You deserve all this and so much more.” You shake your head, then throw yourself at Aether, burrowing your face into his neck.

Aether laughs, hand cupping the back of your head, pressing his lips to your hair. “And this is just the first one, my love. You still have two more.”

“That she doesn’t have time to open right now, if this is her reaction to all of them,” Papa says, a grin in his voice. “Come, get changed, my love, we have ten minutes.”

Jonas frowns at Papa. “Ruin our fun, will you?” But he smiles to show he is just joking.

“Only temporarily, my friend.” Papa chuckles. Quietly, he adds, “Thank you for this...we’ve all wanted to give her everything, but she is...prickly when it comes to gifts. Now that you and Aether have opened the door, she may be a little more receptive.”

Meanwhile, as Fire helps you with the lacy merry widow and the garter belt, you say, “You know your way around the lingerie, don’t you?” with a giggle.

“Well, after years of helping so many lovely ladies out of this stuff, you eventually learn how to get them into it as well.” He chuckles. “Fucking hell, you look good enough to eat, love.”

You blush faintly, but grin. “I’ve never worn anything like this before. It feels...weird. Good, but weird.”

Earth and Water walk into the room suddenly, carrying some trays. “We thought we’d get everyone a light breakfast and...and...” Water trails off as he sees you standing there, and Air quickly takes the tray from Earth as he’s about to drop it. “Oh my sweet Satan...”

“Breathe, little brother,” Air says to Earth with a chuckle. “Gotta breathe or you’re gonna faint.”

Earth just stares. Finally, you spin slowly around, smiling shyly. “Do I look all right?”

“You... you... well. You...ha. Ha. Well.” Earth shakes his head.

“My darling girl, I do believe you broke our Earth,” Aether says with a laugh.

“Broke Earth? She’s fucking killing me!” Water blurts out. “For the love of Satan, woman, you’re actually killing me!”

You blush darkly, shifting from foot to foot at the attention. “Blame Jonas and Aether, they picked these out!”

“We will take all the credit happily,” Jonas says, laughter in his voice. “Come, come, let us see the dress on you!”

Fire slips it over your head, and the silky material makes you shiver as it slips down your skin.

You look down at yourself, moving your hips from side to side to make the skirts swish against your legs. You would swear your skin is shimmering, and once the dress settles on you, it feels like you’re not wearing anything at all, it’s so light and filmy. You spin around once, watching the skirts float around you. Finally, you look up, startled to see every ghoul and wolf in the room staring at you, gazes dark, full of lust and love and need and want.

Johannes actually licks his lips, and he grins. “Oh, sweetness, the things I could do to you with that dress on...”

“A-As long as you don’t rip it!” you retort, goosebumps raising on your skin. Jonas steps behind you and slips the necklace around your throat, fingers stroking the back of your neck as he settles it. Aether gently slips the earrings on you and secures them, and the room lets out a collective breath.

“You are...that is...” Tim seems lost for words as he stares at you.

As Johannes steps close to you, Jonas says, “Almost forgot,” and he opens one of the boxes to produce a pair of strappy black heels. “Here, help her put them on,” he says with a smile as he gives Johannes the shoes. You carefully perch on the edge of the bed so you don’t wrinkle the dress, and watch, a lump in your throat, as Johannes gets down on one knee, and caresses first one foot and then the other in his large warm hands, sliding the heels on your feet. You stand up, looking down at him, and then he slowly rises to his feet, his hands whispering along your sides, until he’s standing close to you, looking down at you with the most indescribable expression on his face.

“Truly a goddess,” he whispers.

Your heart is hammering in your chest as your hands curl around his arms. You couldn’t look away right now if your life depended on it. Slowly, slowly, the backs of his fingers caress over your cheeks, and he leans down, nose nudging yours. “Come on,” he rasps, lips just barely brushing yours. “Let’s go before I don’t let you leave this room...”

“I...I have to warn you all...I’ve never owned heels like this before, so...so it may take me a few minutes to get used to walking in them...”

“I won’t let you fall,” he whispers.

Papa, resplendent in his papal robes, comes up alongside Johannes, and hands Johannes his hat and cane. “That I can say you two are my loves ... I am a demon blessed.” He cups both yours and Johannes’s cheeks, and both you and Johannes turn and kiss his palms.

Special smiles at the scene, and he snaps his fingers. Instantly, everyone else is dressed in their best—Jonas is in all his court regalia, including crown, and his men are in their court clothes that reflect their stations. All the ghouls look immaculate in their uniforms. “Shall we?”

#chiaroscuro fic #the band ghost #the band avatar #papa emeritus iii #johannes eckerström #nameless ghouls #jonas kungen jarlsby #henrik sandelin #john alfredsson #tim ohrstrom

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