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hoshifighting · 11 days

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famous poker player ! jeonghan x famous poker player ! reader

— Synopsis: Jeonghan, the untouchable poker legend, meets his match in you, that spent years watching his every move, studying his poker game, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, shattering his ego in and out of the bedroom. As you leave him wrecked and humiliated, he’s left questioning everything he thought he knew. The game’s no longer just about cards. — WC: 8.9k — WARNINGS: angst, smut, manipulation, gambling, alcohol consumption, mentions of cheating, ego destruction, heartbreak (reader uses jeonghan's past heartbreak as a manipulation to win), rough sex, dirty talk, dom!reader + sub!jeonghan (his first time being a sub), power play, chocking, hair pulling, gagging, humiliation, degradation, oral (f. receiving), masturbation (m. receiving), body fluids (cum), cock riding, overstimulation, nipple play, jeonghan sucks your fingers and etc.

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, fingers lazily curling around his glass of whiskey. He couldn’t help but scoff when the whispers about some new poker prodigy reached his ears. His lips twisted into a smirk, eyes rolling as he tipped the glass toward his mouth.

Really? Better than him? That’s what they were saying?

He glanced around his lavish apartment, the expensive art on the walls, the sleek black car parked downstairs, and the designer clothes hanging in his walk-in closet. Who the hell was this person, thinking they could come into his world and steal his crown?

He heard how you took the big names down one by one, storming through the tables like a tornado. Maybe they had a point. But better than him? He wasn’t convinced.

As he buttoned up his black shirt, leaving the top half undone, he thought about what they said. He liked his shirts that way, just enough to show off his chest, always a little provocative without trying too hard. The sunglasses perched on top of his head held back his long hair, and a Rolex gleamed on his wrist. He liked to dress like this—clean, sharp, unbothered.

The whiskey burned his lips as he sipped, plumping them slightly from the alcohol. His head tilted back, gaze narrowing at the ceiling before pushing out a breath. So, this sensation was gonna sit at his table tonight. Fine. He wanted to see what all the fuss was about. He set the glass down and made his way to the poker room.

The place smelled of money and desperation, just the way he liked it.

— // —

You knew the moment you stepped into the room, all eyes would be on you. It wasn’t the dress, although it clung to your figure in a way that left little to the imagination despite its attempt at being ‘discreet.’ It wasn’t even the necklace, though anyone who knew their jewelry could tell the diamond hanging from it was worth a small fortune. No, it was the fact that you walked in with a purpose. Like you owned the damn room, because in your mind, you already did.

You’d been watching Jeonghan for a long time, standing in the shadows while your father pointed out the way he played—strategic, patient, never letting emotion cloud his judgment. You’d learned from the best. And now you were here to take it all. Just like he did, over and over again, watching others lose everything while he walked away with the spoils.

The poker room buzzed with energy as you made your entrance, the soft click of your heels barely audible over the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. And there he was, Jeonghan, sitting at the table with that lazy confidence that made him so irritatingly attractive. Black shirt half-buttoned, a glass of whiskey hanging from his fingers, his lips soft and plump from the drink. Sunglasses held his long hair back, giving him that laid-back, don’t-give-a-shit aura.

The dealer froze, eyes flicking between you and the table. “We’re missing one,” she announced.

Jeonghan’s eyes finally darted your way, trailing up your form with a slow, deliberate sweep. You could practically feel his curiosity, maybe even a hint of amusement. You gave him a brief glance, then turned your attention to the chair that was waiting for you.

“Well,” Jeonghan drawled, “Guess we’re starting now.”

You slid into the chair, ignoring the stares from around the table. Emotion? Distraction? None of it touched you. You had one focus. Winning.

The game started slow, with each player eyeing the table as if the cards themselves could tell secrets. You already knew what Jeonghan was up to; you’d seen it a thousand times before. He was the type to play people, not just cards. He watched everyone, but he never let on how much he was paying attention. Those sharp eyes darting from one player to the next.

You glanced at the woman on the other side of the table, her mirrored glasses catching the shady light. Amateurs. You could see her cards in the reflection—oblivious, reckless. A snort almost left your lips, but you held it back. Instead, your brows furrowed, unable to comprehend how someone could be that careless.

Jeonghan noticed too. His eyes flicked toward the woman, then shifted back to you. He caught the disgust on your face and had to suppress a laugh, a short breath escaping his nose. It was barely noticeable, but you didn’t miss it.

That’s how he played—small reactions, little observations. He wasn’t just studying the cards. He was reading the room. But that’s where most people faltered. Poker wasn’t just about reading your opponent; it was about mastering yourself. Turning off every feeling, every twitch of emotion. You weren’t here to feel. You were here to win. And to win, you had to make choices that seemed heartless to everyone else. But for you, it was all part of the plan.

Jeonghan, on the other hand, was searching for something. His eyes scanned your face, looking for any sign, any crack in your composure. But there was nothing. Your expression was stone-cold, eyes devoid of the shine he’d seen in others. Where most people’s emotions played out on their faces—joy, fear, anger—you gave him nothing. Your gaze was lifeless, almost opaque, like you weren’t really there. You were present, but distant, your mind somewhere else entirely.

And for once, he couldn’t figure someone out.

In poker, most people give themselves away without even realizing it. The way their breath catches when they get a good hand, or how their fingers tap when they’re bluffing. Some people can’t hide a damn thing, spilling their favorite music, their past traumas, their entire soul with a single look. But you? Jeonghan couldn’t even tell if you were a real person sitting across from him. You were like a ghost—untouchable, unreadable.

He detested that.

Still, he didn’t let it show. He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing as he raised the stakes. His movements were plotted, but you could tell his focus had shifted. He was no longer playing to win. He was playing to figure you out. Watching the way your fingers hovered over the chips, how you folded your cards with meticulous, emotionless care.

You saw it. The way he tried to bait you. He’d push, then pull back, testing the waters, throwing small bluffs, but never fully committing. That was his game—slow manipulation, never giving you too much, always keeping you on your toes.

But you’d already seen it. You’d watched him do it time and time again. You weren’t fooled by the charm, the calculated nonchalance. You knew exactly what he was trying to do. He wanted to get inside your head, unravel whatever mystery he thought you were hiding.

The game stretched on, cards dealt, chips thrown in. But as the final hands approached, something strange happened. Neither of you was winning.

Jeonghan was too wrapped up in his obsession with breaking you down, and you? You were too focused on figuring out his game—confirming every theory you’d ever had about how he played. His tells, his habits, the way his fingers always lingered a second too long on his cards when he was bluffing. You knew him. Inside and out.

But that didn’t help you win. Not tonight.

The dealer called the game. Neither of you took the pot.

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, a slow, lazy smirk curling on his lips. “Guess we’ll have to do this again sometime,” he said, though you could tell he wasn’t as calm as he wanted to appear.

You just looked at him, eyes still flat, still unreadable. “Maybe,” you replied, voice cold and detached. “But next time, focus on the cards.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, trying one last time to peel back the layers. But he couldn’t.

You are going to be a pain in his neck.

[...]

Jeonghan had been searching for you everywhere—tax records, statements, social media, anything that could give him a glimpse into who you were outside the poker room. But nothing.

And the irony of it all? You were right under his nose, standing behind his back in the past, unnoticed, more times than he could count. Just another face in the crowd, a "normal" girl, blending into the background while making small talk with the people who mattered. Someone important, someone worth impressing—but not you, not in his eyes. He never paid enough attention to connect the dots.

That was Jeonghan’s weakness. He could size up the players at the table, but in the real world? He let things slip. You remembered when you caught him, the moment he faltered at the table—a time he lacked patience, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe he was too sure of himself, but his fingers twitched when he was about to bluff too big. You’d hissed under your breath, watching him give himself away with that tiny tell. He was good, no doubt, but even the best had cracks.

There was also that time, years ago, when he had a girl by his side. A classic, picture-perfect trophy—long legs, expensive clothes, hair and nails done like she was auditioning for a role in some gangster flick. She was the stereotypical “pimp’s wife,” hanging off Jeonghan’s arm while he gazed at her with those stupid, love-drunk eyes.

You had rolled your eyes so hard they almost got stuck.

The entire casino buzzed with rumors about her—the way she’d swindled money under his nose, how she was there for the money, for the benefits. And Jeonghan? He didn’t even see it coming. Too wrapped up in the fantasy, too blind to notice how she played him. Eventually, she broke his heart in the most humiliating way possible, leaving him behind with nothing but those pathetic rumors, the gossip about his downfall trailing after him like perfume.

Tonight, though, things were different. This game wasn’t in the usual place. No, it was on a luxury cruise, far outside any regulations, outside the safety of controlled territory. Here, anything could happen, and everything was allowed. You made sure your presence was felt before you even sat down. A bigger diamond hung around your neck tonight, matching the heavy stones on your earrings and the glint of the ring on your finger. It was subtle, but anyone with half a brain could tell what you were signaling—wealth, power, danger. A quiet boast that you could bury anyone at this table if you wanted to.

As you sat down, you noticed the last game’s winner strategically choosing the seat next to yours, clearly hoping to ride the wave of luck or maybe get a read on you. A smile tugged at your lips. Not today, ma boy. He thought he had an advantage? Not even close. You glanced at him, knowing full well that every smile you gave, every tiny reaction, was another move in the game. But you were always three steps ahead of them all.

Across from you sat Jeonghan, his gaze as slutty as ever, eyes dragging over you with zero shame. You knew that look—he wasn’t even trying to hide his interest. But you didn’t bite. You didn’t act on impulse, never did. Every move you made was calculated, every risk weighed and measured long before you stepped into this room. That’s how you won. While everyone else was still trying to figure out the rules, you’d already written your own.

The game started, tension building as the cards hit the table. You could feel Jeonghan’s eyes on you, trying to catch something, anything, but you gave him nothing. He was good, but you were better, already mapping out his play. You watched his fingers, the way they tapped against his chips when he was thinking.

But what really caught your attention was the way he murmured under his breath, almost absentmindedly, when he was sizing up his opponents. It was like he was narrating his own game, whispering little clues while doing the opposite of what he wanted people to think.

He was messing with their heads, giving them false signals while slipping in moves they didn’t expect. You could see the way the other players were starting to falter, misreading his intentions, stumbling over their decisions as Jeonghan fed them just enough to confuse them.

But you weren’t fooled.

You knew his game too well, knew the way he liked to play with people’s minds. He was trying to throw you off, make you second-guess yourself. But every look, every murmur, every bluff was something you had already anticipated.

Jeonghan was talking too much.

He always did this when he was trying to manipulate people—narrating his moves, acting like it was just him thinking out loud. But tonight, it was getting under your skin in a way that made you want to roll your eyes so hard it hurt. Every word that spilled from his mouth, every cocky smirk, every calculated glance was just noise. Too much noise.

And you were done with it.

So, with a calmness that could make ice seem warm, you leaned back in your chair, eyes narrowing as you shuffled your chips between your fingers. Then, with a voice that cut through the air like a knife, you asked, “Mr. Yoon… how’s your ex?”

You didn’t miss the way the room collectively held its breath. Players around the table stilled, the soft murmurs from the crowd fading into a stunned silence. People thought it was just a curious, innocent question, maybe a playful jab at his famous love life. They didn’t know the weight of it, the way it pierced straight into him.

But he knew.

You had crossed a line. A very delicate one. And you did it with a smile, like it was nothing. Like stepping over the line was as easy as stepping over a crack in the sidewalk. And that’s what set it off.

Jeonghan froze, his hand hovering over his cards. For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t speak. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. It was as if your question had punched the air right out of his lungs. His cool, confident conduct cracked, just for a second, but enough for you to see the split.

That girlfriend. The one who crushed his heart into dust and didn’t even look back. She wasn’t just a sore subject—she was the wound he never let anyone touch. And you? You didn’t just touch it. You pressed down hard, twisting the knife until the pain reflected in his eyes.

“She… uh,” he stammered, trying to regain his footing, fingers twitching around his cards. His face didn’t show much at first—Jeonghan was too practiced for that. But it was in his hands. The way they fumbled for his chips, the way his thumb nervously tapped against the table.

His mind was unraveling, and you watched it happen in real time. The words you’d thrown at him weren’t just a blow—they were a ticking time bomb, going off in his head over and over again. He couldn’t focus. Couldn’t pull himself back together fast enough. You’d cracked something in him, and now all those emotions he usually buried deep were flooding to the surface.

"She’s good," he finally managed to mumble, forcing a shrug, his attempt at brushing it off. But it was too late. He had faltered, and everyone saw it.

You smiled, your eyes cold and sharp, watching as he tried to hide behind that stupid grin of his. But the damage was done. You had used his own tactics against him—poking and prodding at the weaknesses until he couldn’t help but crumble. Only this time, it was worse. He wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of this kind of mind game.

Jeonghan tried to refocus, pulling his attention back to the cards. But his hands were shaking now, and he made a mistake. He matched a bet he shouldn’t have. His stack of chips was dwindling, and everyone at the table could see it.

You caught the twitch in his fingers when he was about to bluff, the way his eyes darted to the side, just for a split second. He wasn’t even aware he was doing it, but you were. You watched every tiny movement, every subtle tell he gave away as the game went on. He was unraveling, and you were loving every second of it.

As the rounds continued, his frustration became more and more apparent. His jaw clenched, his mouth pressed into a thin line, and his usual smooth talk started to falter. His voice was quieter now, unsure. Every time he looked at his cards, you could see the doubt in his eyes. He was playing on autopilot, too distracted by the question still gnawing at his brain.

How’s your ex?

The question echoed in his mind, louder than the crowd, louder than the sound of the cards being dealt. It was a constant hum, a reminder of his failure, both in love and in the game. The more he thought about it, the more mistakes he made. He couldn’t shake it, couldn’t compartmentalize the way he usually did. You’d crawled under his skin, and now he was lost in his own head.

The more uncomfortable he became, the more the game tilted in your favor.

And then, it happened. His final misstep. Jeonghan threw in all his chips on a hand that he was convinced would win, but his bluff was too obvious, too desperate. You saw it from a mile away. With a slow, deliberate smirk, you laid your cards on the table.

Straight flush.

The room gasped. Jeonghan’s face went white, his jaw literally dropping as he stared at the cards in disbelief. His mouth hung open, but no words came out. His brain was still trying to catch up, still reeling from the question that had taken him out of the game long before the cards were even dealt.

You leaned forward, your smile turning into something sharper, more vicious as you pulled the massive pile of chips toward you, raking them in with your arms. “Better luck next time,” you said.

Jeonghan just sat there, stunned, watching as you claimed victory without even breaking a sweat. He wasn’t used to losing, especially not like this. Not when someone used his tactics and twisted them until they cut deeper than he ever intended. He tried to say something, anything, but all he could do was stare at you, his mind still spinning, still trying to figure out where it all went wrong.

But you already knew. You’d gotten inside his head, turned the tables on him, and left him gutted, just like his ex had done.

Jeonghan couldn’t stop. After that first loss, he played again. Then another game. And another. Each one worse than the last. Every time, he thought he could regain control, pull himself together, get back into his rhythm—but no. He was spiraling, his thoughts spinning out of control. His hands trembled with every bet, his bluffs grew weaker, and his confidence bled out with every chip that slipped through his fingers.

At one point, his friend—a familiar face, someone who’d watched him dominate this scene for years—touched his shoulder, giving him a sharp look. “Stop, Jeonghan. You’ve lost enough.”

But he couldn’t stop. He needed to win something. He needed to claw back even a shred of his dignity, anything to remind himself he was still Jeonghan, the legend. But the more he tried, the deeper he dug his own grave. Every hand was a humiliation.

By the time the final round ended, Jeonghan wasn’t even sitting anymore. He stood, arms crossed, shoulders tense as he watched the game from the side, a silent observer. He didn’t need to say it—the shame on his face was clear enough. He never had to stand and watch. It was beneath him. But tonight, he was left with no choice, stripped of everything he had worked for.

And you? You rose from your seat like it was nothing, your body language as casual as if you had just finished a friendly round at a small-stakes table. You didn’t even bother to look at him, didn’t care about the people whispering around you, the ones who were still buzzing over the fact that you had won every round. You walked out like the night didn’t matter. Like it was just another game.

For Jeonghan, though, it was devastating. His ego lay shattered, a million pieces scattered on the floor. The heartbreak from his ex? That pain had dulled over time. But you had ripped open that old wound, making it raw again, bringing back every piece of humiliation he had tried to bury. He felt himself fumbling, trying to grasp something solid, but everything was slipping through his fingers.

And then he saw you.

Like some kind of devil on his shoulder, you were there, watching him as you stood by the bar. You didn’t even need to say a word. The sight of you—so calm, so unbothered—made him feel sick. You ordered a drink, took it in hand, and with a quiet smirk on your lips, you started walking towards your room.

Jeonghan couldn’t let it go.

His feet moved before his brain even caught up. He followed you, his pulse pounding in his ears, that familiar swagger of his long gone. He didn’t even know what he wanted from you—answers, confrontation, something—but all he knew was that he needed to speak to you.

You walked into your room like you knew he’d be behind you, the door clicking shut behind him as he entered. There you were, standing by the window, holding your drink like nothing had happened, like you hadn’t just ripped his ego to shreds in front of everyone.

Jeonghan's voice was low, strained, almost shaky. “What the hell was that?”

You turned, eyes cold, that same infuriating smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “What do you mean?” you asked, sipping your drink slowly.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” he snapped, stepping closer, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. “You knew exactly what you were doing, bringing her up like that.”

You shrugged, unfazed, as if his anger meant nothing to you. “It was just a question.”

“Bullshit.” His voice cracked. “You—you went there on purpose. You knew it would mess with me, and you did it anyway.”

Another sip. Another smile. You didn’t even blink as you watched him unrave. “Isn’t that what you do? Get inside people’s heads? Push their buttons until they break?” You leaned against the window, eyes gleaming with delight as you spoke. “I thought you’d appreciate the effort.”

Jeonghan let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “This was different. You crossed a line.”

You tilted your head, the smile widening. “Oh? And what line is that, Jeonghan? The one where you keep your emotions locked up and pretend they don’t exist? Or the one where you think you’re untouchable?”

He stared at you, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. There was a heaviness in the atmosphere between you two, viscous with stress—anger, yes, but something else too. Something he didn’t want to admit was there. His eyes flicked to your lips for a split second, before he forced himself to look away.

“You don’t get it,” he muttered, his voice quieter now. “That wasn’t just about the game.”

You raised an eyebrow, sipping your drink again, taking your time. “No, Jeonghan. I get it more than you think.”

His frustration spiked, fingers twitching at his sides as he fought to keep his voice steady. “What is this? Huh?” He took a step closer, his body tense, looming over you. “What do you want from me?”

You didn’t back down, didn’t flinch. If anything, you seemed to enjoy the way he was coming undone in front of you. “Nothing,” you said, your voice soft. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? You want to matter, you want me to care, but you don’t. You’re just… there.”

His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing as the words hit him like a punch to the gut. “You’re full of shit.”

“Maybe,” you said with a light chuckle, finishing your drink and placing the empty glass on the table beside you. “But you’re here, Jeonghan. Following me, like some lost puppy, hoping for… what? Closure? An apology?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off, stepping closer, your voice dropping to a whisper. “You wanted to get inside my head, Jeonghan. But look at you. You’re the one who’s a mess. You’re the one who’s crumbling.”

You could see it in his eyes—the conflict, the way he was battling with himself. The fury, the frustration, the desperation. And underneath all of that? The craving. The way his gaze flickered to your lips again, the way his breathing hitched every time you moved just a little closer.

But you stayed cold, unfeeling, watching him with that same smirk on your face, enjoying every second of his discomfort.

“Go on,” you whispered. “Tell me how much you hate me. How much I’ve fucked with your head. Tell me I’m the problem.”

Jeonghan's lips parted, but no words came out. He was shaking with rage, with something else, his hands twitching as if he wanted to grab you, shake you, do something. But he didn’t.

Because he couldn’t.

Because you had won. Again.

But through it all, there was one that kept circling back to the same question:

Who the hell are you?

“I don’t even know you,” he spat, his voice cracking. “I don’t know who you are, where you came from, or why the fuck you’re doing this to me.”

You raised an eyebrow, that infuriating smirk still playing on your lips. “Don’t you, though?” Your voice was calm, icy, as if his unraveling in front of you was nothing more than a spectacle for your amusement.

“No.” He shook his head, stepping closer, his face inches from yours now. “I don’t. You—” His words stumbled, caught in the whirlwind of emotions he couldn’t make sense of. “You show up out of nowhere, tear me apart in front of everyone, and then act like I’m supposed to—” His voice wavered, almost pleading. “I don’t even know your fucking name.”

You chuckled, a low sound that made him shiver. “That’s the thing with you, Jeonghan. You don’t know anyone, really. Not unless it benefits you. You see people as pawns, tools to get what you want. All these years, you’ve played your little game, always one step ahead of everyone else. But you never bothered to look around, did you? Never noticed the people who were watching you.”

His brows furrowed, confusion flickering in his eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”

You leaned in just enough that your breath brushed his skin. “I was always there, Jeonghan. Watching. Learning. I’ve seen you win, lose, fake that stupid smile when things don’t go your way.” Your eyes darkened, voice dropping as your lips curled into a mocking smile. “But you? You never noticed me. Not once.”

Jeonghan’s breath hitched as your words sank in. His mind raced, trying to piece together fragments of memories, moments, faces in the background. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t place you. “You’re lying,” he said, his voice shaking, though he wasn’t even sure who he was trying to convince anymore.

“I’m not.” Your voice was cold, cutting through his defenses with ease. “You were too wrapped up in your own world to notice anyone who didn’t directly serve you. That’s your problem, Jeonghan. You think the world revolves around you, and anyone outside your little bubble? They don’t exist. You never cared to look at anyone unless they were a threat to you. Unless they had something you wanted.”

His jaw clenched, anger flashing in his eyes. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

“I know enough.” You stepped closer, your bodies barely an inch apart now. He could feel the heat radiating off you, the way your words slipped under his skin, pulling at every insecurity he had buried deep. “I know how you ignored the signs when your ex was using you. How you let her walk all over you because you were too blind to see her for what she really was. I know how you couldn’t keep your emotions in check tonight, how I got into your head so easily because you’re weak.”

Jeonghan’s breath came out in shallow bursts, his chest heaving with each one. He was crumbling, and he knew it. But he couldn’t stop himself from spiraling, not with the way you were tearing him apart piece by piece. “Shut up,” he whispered, voice barely audible—as if he was afraid of how much truth was in your words.

You didn’t stop. You pressed on, your voice softer now, but no less cutting. “That’s why you don’t remember me. Because I didn’t matter to you. Because I wasn’t something you could use.”

Jeonghan's gaze flickered to your lips, the pressure between you two thickening with every word that passed. He wanted to hate you. He wanted to scream at you, push you away, do anything to get you out of his head. But he couldn’t. Instead, he found himself leaning in closer, drawn to the coldness in your eyes, the way you seemed to see right through him.

“And now?” he muttered, his voice hoarse, almost a growl. “What do you want now?”

You tilted your head, a wicked gleam in your eyes as you smiled, your voice dripping with condescension. “I already got what I wanted.” You reached up, your fingers ghosting along the side of his face, barely touching him, yet it sent a shock through his entire body. “You. Like this. Completely wrecked. Fucked, because of me.”

His breath hitched, and before he could think, his hands shot up to grip your waist, pulling you flush against him. It was a desperate, reckless move, one born out of frustration, anger, and something else he didn’t want to name. But you didn’t flinch. You didn’t pull away.

Instead, you smirked up at him, your eyes glinting with something dark, and whispered, “You’re so predictable.”

“Shut up,” Jeonghan hissed again, but this time, his voice was strained, thick with something deeper than just anger. His fingers tightened around your waist, holding you in place as if he was afraid you’d slip away if he let go. He hated how much power you had over him, how every word out of your mouth only made him want you more.

You raised an eyebrow, that same infuriating smile still plastered on your face. “Make me.”

That was all it took for him to snap.

And then, he kissed you like he was trying to take back control, like he needed to prove something—to himself, to you, to anyone watching. But deep down, he knew it was a losing battle. Because you weren’t kissing him back with desperation. No, you kissed him like you had already won and this was just another part of the game.

His hands roamed your body, fingers digging into your skin as if he needed to ground himself, to feel something real in this moment. But even as he kissed you, even as he lost himself in the heat of the moment, that nagging thought stayed at the back of his mind.

You were still in control.

And that thought only made him kiss you harder, more fiercely, like he could erase it if he just tried harder.

“You’ll never figure me out,” you murmured against his lips, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “And that’s why you’ll always lose.”

He hated you. He wanted you. And he couldn’t tell which feeling was stronger.

His hand tightened in your hair, fingers tangling in the strands as he yanked your head back hard. The hurried pull sent a harsh jolt of pain through your scalp, but instead of a wince, what came out of your mouth was a quiet, throaty laugh. “You—such a bitch,” he growled, but you could see the flicker of disbelief in his eyes, watching you—fucking laughing at the pain.

The corner of your mouth curled up, lips parted as you let out a quiet moan. “You think that hurts?” you taunted, maybe challenging. “Do it harder.”

Jeonghan’s grip tightened, a growl thundering from his chest as he yanked even harder, and this time your head jerked back, the pain shooting through you in a way that only made you smile wider. The way he watched you, eyes wide, mouth salivating, had you lit up inside.

His lips crashed down on yours again, rough and biting, teeth dragging across your bottom lip as if trying to draw blood. You hissed into his mouth, but he didn’t let up, kissing you harder.

But this wasn’t just some kiss. It was a battle, and he was losing.

Your hands gripped the back of his neck, nails digging in as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss, swallowing the moan that escaped his throat. When he bit down hard on your lip, you cursed at him.

“Fucking do it right,” you spat between heavy breaths. “Or don’t do it at all.”

Jeonghan’s eyes dimmed, his jaw clenching as he pushed you back against the nearest surface—a column that was inside the room. His free hand sliding down to your thigh, roughly pulling it up to hook around his waist. “You think you can just order me around, huh?” By his tone… Yes, you think.

You smirked, breathless but still in control. “I know I can.”

He didn’t waste any more words. His lips moved to your neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark, and you hissed, arching against him. His hand slid down between your legs, fingers brushing against the edge of your panties before yanking them aside, not giving a single fuck about being gentle.

“Is this what you wanted?” he growled, his lips brushing against your ear as his fingers slid over your wetness, the folds doing a warm caress on his fingers, teasing you just enough to make your breath hitch. “Tell me.”

You didn’t answer him, but your body betrayed you, hips pushing toward his hand, craving more. He noticed, of course, because he always did. But this time, he wasn’t the one in control, and he knew it.

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice rough, almost strained as his fingers barely grazed over you, enough to drive you insane but not enough to satisfy.

You let out a breathless laugh, your eyes meeting his, still cold but twinkling with fun. “I want you to shut the fuck up and make yourself useful.”

That did it. Jeonghan dropped to his knees, yanking your dress up as he settled between your legs, not wasting any time. His fingers dug into your thighs, spreading them as his mouth hovered just above your heat. His breath ghosted over your skin, and you could feel the tension in him, feel how much he wanted this, but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of asking.

He pressed a hard, open-mouthed kiss just above your clit, his teeth grazing your skin before he moved lower, his tongue flicking out just enough to make you gasp. “Still want me to shut up?” he murmured against you, his voice full of smug.

But before you could answer, his mouth was on you, and any retort you had died in your throat. His tongue was merciless, moving over you making your legs tremble. You bit down hard on your lip, trying to suppress the sounds threatening to escape, but it was impossible. A low moan tore from your lips as his mouth worked you over, his tongue circling your clit before sucking it into his mouth with just the right amount of force.

Your hand instinctively shot to his hair, gripping it tight as you tried to control your trembling legs. But he wasn’t slowing down. His tongue moved faster, harder, sending wave after wave of pleasure through you until your whole body was quivering.

He bit down, just enough to make you hiss, your nails digging into his scalp as you cursed him under your breath. “Fuck—” you gasped, body arching toward him. “Don’t stop.”

Jeonghan didn’t need to be told twice. His hands gripped your thighs harder, holding you in place as his tongue moved faster. Every flick, every swirl was straightforward, designed to make you lose the command. And you were, piece by piece. The cold, detached front you’d kept up was slipping, crumbling under the warmth of his mouth, the way he devoured you like it was the only thing that mattered.

You could feel it, the edge approaching fast, and you let out a low moan, your hips moving against his face as you chased it. “Fucking hell, Jeonghan—” you gasped, your voice leaving like a whisper as the orgasm hit you hard. Your body tensed, legs trembling as the orgasm ripped through you, leaving you breathless, your mind blank except for the overstimulating sensation of his mouth still on you.

He didn’t stop, didn’t let up until your body finally relaxed against him, spent and slaked. Only then did he pull back, his lips swollen and slippery with your arousal, his eyes meeting yours with triumph

You looked down at him, chest still heaving, but your smirk was back in full force. “You slacked at the table tonight, Jeonghan.” The words rolled off your tongue with conscious slowness, each one cutting him just a little deeper. “But down there… between my legs? You were such a good boy.”

He froze, still so close to your cunt. You could feel and see his breath hitch at your words, his whole body tensing, and that only made your smirk grow wider. As you lower down, you let your fingers lazily trail down his chest, feeling the way his muscles twitched under your touch.

“You know,” you continued, voice leaking with mock sweetness, “maybe if you put as much effort into the game as you do into this,” your hand moved lower, brushing over the waistband of his pants, “you wouldn’t have lost everything tonight.”

His face faltered for a split second, the confidence in his eyes flickering as he processed your words. You could see his jaw clench, his pride taking the hit. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” You chuckled softly, your hand slipping further down, squeezing the bulge in his pants, feeling the tension there. “Look at you,” you whispered, “so obedient when it counts. Such a good boy.”

His lips parted, his breath coming out in shallow bursts, but he still didn’t say anything.

“Tell me,” you continued, eyes glinting as you applied a little more pressure, “was it worth it? Throwing away your pride at the table just so you could be on your knees for me?”

He swallowed hard, his hands twitching at his sides like he didn’t know whether to grab you or push you away. His ego was bruised—no, shattered—and here you were, rubbing salt into the wound, reminding him exactly how far he’d fallen.

Your hand tightens around Jeonghan's neck, your fingers pressing into the soft skin as he chokes, his breath cutting short. The sound that escapes him is desperate, needy, a cough that barely finds its way through the pressure you've applied. His body tenses, his muscles straining.

"Get up," you command.

He stumbles, one hand on the floor, the other grasping for something to steady himself as he rises to his feet, eyes lost, clouded over in a haze of confusion and submission that he’s trying so hard to fight.

Your grip on his throat loosens just enough for him to take in a sharp breath, but you don’t give him much relief. Instead, your fingers trail from his neck to his chin, tipping his face up so his eyes meet yours. His lips part instinctively, searching for air, but you take that as an invitation, sliding two fingers past them, pushing into his mouth without warning.

His eyes widen in shock, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his lips wrap around your fingers, mouth warm and wet as he takes them in, his breath coming in short, shaky bursts through his nose.

"Suck," you command, voice sharp, leaving no room for hesitation.

He complies, but it's tentative, unsure, his tongue brushing over your fingers but lacking the enthusiasm you expect. You press your fingers deeper, feeling the resistance in his throat as he gags, eyes watering slightly.

“Do it right,” you growl, eyes narrowing as you press harder into his mouth, your fingers curling against his tongue. "Suck them right."

This time, he obeys. His lips tighten around your fingers, and his head bobs forward slowly, drawing you deeper into his mouth as he begins to suck properly. His cheeks hollow out as his tongue swirls around your fingers, slick and wet, saliva coating your skin as he works. His eyes, though filled with defiance, are beginning to show something more desperate, more submissive.

Your smirk widens as you watch him, completely captivated by the sight of him on the edge of breaking. You can feel the heat building inside you, the wetness pooling between your legs as you watch him, his mouth obediently working over your fingers, his body betraying the fight he's trying to put up.

"Good boy," you praise as you feel him sucking harder, as if the praise makes him crave more.

With your other hand, you move to his belt, your fingers working swiftly to unbuckle it, the metal clinking as you pull it loose. His body stiffens, but he doesn’t stop sucking, not even when you move to his zipper, yanking it down in one quick, sharp movement. The fabric of his jeans parts, revealing the hard line of his cock straining against the black briefs beneath.

You press your wet fingers deeper into his mouth, pushing them to the back of his throat as you slip your other hand inside his jeans, gripping the base of his cock. The contrast of sensations makes him jolt—your fingers choking him, while the other hand wraps around him, stroking slowly.

He gags around your fingers, eyes wide as he looks up at you, and for a moment, you think he might pull away. But then he doesn’t. Instead, he adjusts, his throat contracting as he fights to keep sucking, his lips tight around your fingers as you press them deeper.

"That's it," you purr, your voice low and sultry, watching him struggle to keep up, to please you. "Take it all."

Your hand moves in rhythm with his sucking, your fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking him slowly, teasingly. He lets out a muffled moan, the sound vibrating around your fingers as his hips jerk forward slightly, desperate for more, but you keep the pace slow, torturous.

He’s trying so hard to hold onto his pride, to resist fully submitting, but you can feel the cracks widening, see the way his body reacts, how his mouth moves more eagerly over your fingers now, desperate to please. His cock twitches in your hand, and you can feel the tension building in him, the way he’s teetering on the edge of giving in completely.

You pull your fingers from his mouth with a wet pop, strings of saliva still connecting them as you smirk down at him. His lips part as he gasps for breath, his chest heaving. You use your now-wet fingers to stroke his cock, the slickness making each movement smoother, more intense.

"Look at you," you tease as you watch his hips buck into your hand, his body betraying him completely. "So fucking desperate."

Jeonghan’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts as he struggles to hold on, but you don’t stop. Your hand moves faster, stroking him with purpose now, your wet fingers sliding over his length.

“Open your eyes,” you command sharply, your grip tightening around him. “Look at me.”

He obeys, his eyes snapping open, wide and desperate, his lips parted as soft gasps and whimpers escape him.

"Good boy," you murmur again, watching the way his cock twitches in response, how his breath catches in his throat. "Now, don’t stop until I tell you to."

Your hand moves faster, the slickness making each stroke more torturous. He lets out a broken moan, his hips jerking forward into your hand as his body trembles with the effort to hold back.

"You’re gonna finish when I say," you whisper, your lips brushing against his ear as your hand moves faster, your grip tightening. “Not a second before.”

Jeonghan’s breath is ragged, his body shaking with the effort to obey.

Your grip on his cock tightens as you pull him closer, dragging him by his phallus, his body stumbling into yours with a strangled moan. His head falls onto your shoulder, his breath hot and ragged against your neck as his hand shoots out to grab your arm, desperate to steady himself—like you’re about to knock him out.

You guide him toward the bed. “Can’t even walk straight Jeonghan?”

He lets out a weak sound, something between a moan and a groan, as you push him onto the mattress, his back hitting the sheets. His eyes are glazed over, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his cock standing stiff and red, twitching. You smirk as you climb onto the bed, straddling him, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his hips.

You hover over him for a moment, savoring the sight of him laid out beneath you, completely at your mercy. His hands twitch as if he wants to touch you, but you pin them down with your knees, shaking your head with a wicked grin.

“Don’t even think about it,” you say. “You don’t get to touch until I say so.”

Jeonghan lets out a soft whimper, his lips parted as he struggles to control himself, his body aching for more.

You reach down, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it up, just enough to expose his chest. His skin is flushed, his nipples hard, and you let out a low chuckle as you pinch one between your fingers. He jerks beneath you, a strangled moan escaping his lips as his back arches slightly off the bed.

“Sensitive here too, hm?” you tease, giving his nipple another sharp pinch. His hips buck up into you, desperate for friction, but you press him back down with a firm hand on his chest, keeping him in place.

His breath is coming in short, shallow bursts, his cock twitching against your thigh as you tease him, dragging the moment out, savoring every second of his desperation.

Finally, you lift your hips, positioning yourself over him. You guide his cock to your entrance, lowering yourself just enough for his tip to slip inside, the stretch slow and torturous. He gasps, his hips jerking up instinctively, but you slam them back down with a firm grip on his waist.

“Don’t. Move,” you command, your voice sharp.

He bites his lip, his head falling back onto the pillow, chest heaving as you sink down onto him, inch by agonizing inch. The way he fills you completely, the feeling of him trembling beneath you as you take him in, slowly, savoring every second.

You stop halfway, smirking as you grind your hips in slow circles, teasing him with the promise of more. His eyes snap open, his lips parting in a desperate gasp as he looks up at you, pleading.

“Please,” he groans. “Please, I can’t… I need it.”

You chuckle softly, your fingers trailing down his chest, pinching his nipples again just to watch him squirm. Without warning, you slam down the rest of the way, taking him fully inside you. His mouth falls open in a silent scream, his body jerking beneath you as the pleasure hits him all at once. You bite your lip, your own breath catching as the sensation washes over you, the fullness, the stretch, the way his cock throbs inside you.

You start moving, riding him hard and fast, your hips slamming down onto his with every thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. His hands shoot up to your hips, but you slap them away, pinning them above his head as you fuck him, using him for your own pleasure.

“You feel that?” you hiss, your lips brushing against his ear. “That’s what it feels like to be used.”

Jeonghan can only moan in response. You lean back, riding him harder, faster, your hands gripping his wrists, grinding down on him with every thrust, feeling the tension building inside both of you.

“Fuck,” he groans, his head tossing back, his eyes squeezing shut as he bites down on his lip, trying desperately to hold on. But you know he’s close. You can feel it.

Jeonghan’s breath hitches, his eyes fluttering open for a moment, wide and desperate, before they squeeze shut again, his body trembling violently beneath you.

You lean down, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper, “Cum for me.”

And with that, he breaks. His body tenses, his back arching off the bed as he lets out a strangled moan, his cock twitching violently inside you as he comes, the pleasure hitting him like a freight train. You ride him through it, grinding down on him as you chase your own release.

You lean forward, your body pressing down as your clit grinds against his pelvis. Jeonghan's cock is still deep inside you, and you can feel every inch of him twitching, overstimulated and helpless beneath you. His eyes roll back, lips parted in a messy gasp, his hair splayed out on the mattress like a fallen angel. The way his face twists, dumb with pleasure, is almost enough to push you over the edge by itself. His eyebrows furrow in a compound of pain and ecstasy, and the moans slipping from his throat—whiny, breathless, and downright filthy—send a rush of heat pooling in your belly.

You can feel it building, that pressure inside you, tighter and tighter with every grind of your hips. You’re losing control too, your moans spilling out, desperate and raw, betraying the power you’ve held this whole time. It doesn’t even sound like you’re the one in control anymore. You’re chasing that release, grinding harder, faster, your slickness making it a mess between your legs, each movement slippery, loud. The wet sounds of your bodies sliding together are filthy, and the sensation of the mess you’ve made splashing against your thighs only adds to the intensity building inside you.

Jeonghan’s eyes flutter open just as you're on the edge. He looks up at you, pupils blown wide, as though he's watching a divine vision unfold in front of him. The sight of his ruined expression—those parted lips, the way his chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath—sends you crashing over the edge.

You let out a broken moan, hips jerking forward as the orgasm tears through you. Your body trembles, thighs clenching around him as you ride out every pulse of pleasure, the mess between your legs gushing onto him, soaking his skin, your breath coming in desperate gasps. You grind down on him one last time, milking every second of it as you feel his cock twitching inside you, overstimulated beyond belief.

“Fuck…” Jeonghan whimpers, his voice raw as his body jerks beneath you, unable to handle any more. His belly caves in, the muscles trembling under your relentless pressure.

After what feels like forever, you slowly lift yourself off him, his cock slipping out with a wet sound, leaving him twitching and trembling. His body is sprawled out on the bed, his chest heaving, hair stuck to his forehead, completely undone. You stand up, your legs weak but steady enough as you smooth down your dress, the fabric hugging your curves again as if nothing happened. You fix your hair, eyes never leaving his limp, exhausted form.

Jeonghan’s gaze follows you, his breath shallow, and his face still slack from the overwhelming high. His eyes are half-lidded, but there’s a glimmer of curiosity, or maybe disbelief, flickering behind them.

"Has anyone ever dominated you like that before?" you ask casually, as if this is a normal conversation after completely ruining him.

He shakes his head, still too breathless to form words. No.

You smirk, tilting your head as you adjust the straps of your dress. “Thought so.”

You step closer to him, leaning down just enough so he can see the wicked gleam in your eyes. “Next time, maybe try not to let your guard down so easily. You’re a mess, Jeonghan.”

He blinks up at you, lips parted, still trying to process everything that just happened. You give him one last amused glance, standing tall and smoothing your dress again before turning on your heel.

“Enjoy the rest of your night,” you say with a mocking sweetness, smirking as you walk toward the door. Just before leaving, you look over your shoulder, adding, "I’ll be at the party if you ever want to lose again.”

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starcurtain · 6 months

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2.1 Penacony Spoilers!

I know the scene after Ratio's "betrayal" can be read a lot of ways but I am shocked I haven't seen more people interpret it as Ratio being so worried about Aventurine that he couldn't stay away even though he was supposed to.

We know:

1) Ratio absolutely knew Aventurine's plan from start to finish, both his gamble to create "death" in the dream and with the three cornerstones. (Wish people would stop underselling Ratio in their analyses; "Three chips are enough" is a direct enough clue that, genius as he is, Ratio would never miss.)

2) In his own words, Ratio was acting according to Aventurine's instructions while in Dewlight Pavilion and with Sunday and felt that he did a good job not giving them away.

I think most people are on the same page up to there, but then I've seen a lot of people interpreting this scene after Aventurine leaves Sunday's mansion as Aventurine being genuinely angry at Ratio (possibly after having gaslit himself into thinking Ratio was actually betraying him).

But this doesn't make much sense to me because:

1) Ratio actually has nothing to gain by selling Aventurine out to Sunday. They're on the same side in this mission. Information about a Stelleron on Penacony wouldn't be news anyone with a brain like Ratio's and why would he need someone else's research on Stellerons when he already has ties to the Genius Society through Screwllum and Herta, as well as the Astral Express where the Trailblazer is actively housing a Stelleron?

2) One of Aventurine's most notable lines of dialogue is how it's perfectly fine and expected for "friends" to use each other and backstab. This is his default understanding of partners--why would he suddenly be mad about something he expected from the start?

3) If the betrayal wasn't already planned and was just a possibility based on Aventurine's understanding of Ratio, why would he ever have revealed there were "three chips" (aka three cornerstones) in play? If even the betrayal over Topaz's stone wasn't planned, just assumed, why would Aventurine reveal the existence of the third stone? He would gain nothing from doing so.

Instead, I think it makes a lot more sense to interpret Aventurine's frustration with Ratio in this later scene as annoyance over Ratio taking an "unnecessary" risk:

1) As far as Sunday knows, Ratio had just very seriously betrayed Aventurine, completely selling him out and essentially sending him to his execution.

2) In the scene afterward, Aventurine is out in public in the middle of Penacony where The Family's eyes are always watching, yet Ratio walks right up to him to check on him. Why would someone who just sold you out come up to you immediately afterward to check on your health?!

3) It's only natural that Aventurine would pump the brakes and go "Wow, didn't think you'd show yourself after you just betrayed me, remember?" Because that's the act they are supposed to be keeping up! They're still being monitored; it's not safe to break character!

But Ratio is a genius, right, so why would he break character here? From the standpoint of the ploy itself, revealing to the Family that he and Aventurine were still on the same side would only jeopardize the plan, not help it.

The logical explanation, then, is that Ratio went to Aventurine here because he felt like he had to.

He had to check in and make sure the situation was still under Aventurine's control.

(In fact, the entire exchange through the middle of this scene is Aventurine and Ratio confirming the rest of their plot in a veiled manner: Ratio brings up the plan and mentions what's concealed in the gift money bag, Aventurine confirms the cornerstone is good to go; Ratio asks what his next step will be; Aventurine says he's going to do the insane thing of handing out cash while looking pathetic [aka fishing for Sparkle]. Ratio essentially asks if he's crazy enough to take the final gamble with his own life, which Aventurine confirms, and then Ratio sets them up for the finale by gifting him the doctor's note.)

Ratio was willing to risk ruining their entire plan--something Aventurine does seem to be frustrated about at first--just to ensure Aventurine still felt all right about the situation.

He needed to deliver his note demanding Aventurine stay alive.

He needed to tell Aventurine to come to him if the situation got too painful to bear.

In short, Ratio was worried enough that he could not stay away even though, for the sake of their plot, it would have made significantly more sense for him not to appear. The gain of breaking character was worth more to him than the risk of being caught.

You honestly don't even have to take this in a shipping context. The real point here is that Ratio is an incredibly good person who wasn't okay with Aventurine's self-sacrificial plan and who felt morally compelled to check on a person in pain. He's a healer through and through, and ignoring Aventurine in this condition--ignoring someone who was taking so much risk on themselves--simply wasn't possible for him, no matter the danger it posed to the plan.

But for those who do ship Ratio and Aventurine... I hope more people will come to see this scene as another example of Ratio's genuine concern for his mission partner! He did not have to appear here at all; it would have made much more sense for him to leave Aventurine to his own devices to uphold the illusion of their "betrayal." He showed up in this scene--very likely against Aventurine's expectations--because he was concerned for Aventurine's situation and wanted to ensure Aventurine knew he could fall back on Ratio's support at any time if the plan went awry.

tl;dr: I wish people would stop interpreting this scene as the aftermath of a betrayal. Aventurine wasn't ticked off with Ratio in this scene because he felt like he'd genuinely been backstabbed; he was ticked off because Ratio was literally breaking their pre-established "betrayer" character just to be fussy over Aventurine's safety and well-being. (Okay, and to double check on the plan, but let's be real, the first part was definitely more important. 👌)

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worldofkuro · 5 months

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Painted Smile

Painted Smile X

Pairing: Alastor x Female! Reader

<- Previous Chapter I Next Chapter ->

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: I won't lie it was a difficult chapter because Reader's psyche is changing but without this I loved this chapter. I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I did ! There is fluff but beware there are racism, killing envy and blood. But nothing too bad I think... yet. I really hope you'll love it, it's the turning point of the story !

You woke up against Alastor's naked chest, still enveloped in blankets. You could feel him playing with your hair while humming a song you’ve heard on the radio. You tilted your head toward him, watching his face wearing his usual smile.

“ Hello, dear.” he whispered. You kissed his cheeks and put your head back against his warm chest. You could feel his body being more tense than usual, maybe being almost naked against each other made him uncomfortable? You tried to sit up but he pushed your head against his chest once again. “ Stay…”

You hummed, caressing his scars. It was strange, the skin color was different depending if there were scars but you were surprised by how smooth it was. You couldn’t tell the difference between his scars and his skin.

“ Who did this to you..?” you whispered. Even though you both were alone in the cottage, cut from the outside world by the snowstorm you didn’t want to break the comfortable and quiet atmosphere. You felt like, if you began to talk louder, Alastor would shield himself from you. You felt him take a big deep breath before speaking a word you couldn't help but expect.

“ My father.” He sighed.

“ Do you wish to talk about it?”

“ What is there to tell, dear? The man who owned the title of being my father had my mother pregnant, he wanted to be a perfect man so he married her. It was a gamble that failed. I was born and he would beat me or my mother if we were acting a little too “ black” for him, with his belt, his fists, cold water and so many other things. He teached me how to hunt, how to kill, how to hurt… I know so many things that would make you run away from me, my dear friend…” he hugged you tighter.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt this angry. The man you have met many times, the very man who hurted Alastor, has always been close to you and you’ve never seen it. You tried not to imagine Alastor being alone in his room being beaten hard by his father while trying not to cry while holding onto Eamon. Had you hurted him when you would smash into his arms for a hug? Had you hurted him when you would jump on his back because you didn’t want to be walking because you were oh so tired. Why didn’t you realize that Eamon’s fur was getting redder and redder because Alastor was bleeding on him because of his father. Why did you not realize that Alastor didn’t want to let Marie alone in this house because there was a demon living among them.

“ Dear?”

“ I hope he dies during the war.”

There was a silence before Alastor tilted your head by your chin toward his face. His eyes had the same warm glint but there was something else, something darker that seemed to try to stay hidden. He was looking at you, observing you like he was searching for some kind of answer. You tried to show how angry you were, you wanted your eyes to give the answer Alastor was looking for.

“ And if I told you I didn’t wish for him to be killed during war?”

Your eyes widened. What?

“ Alastor.. I know he is your father and maybe you still feel some kind of bond with him but you shouldn’t. He doesn’t even deserve to be killed as a soldier, he should be taken by the enemy, tortured until he can’t even spell his own name. Being eaten by dogs. No, it would be bad meat for the dogs. He should just get his members cut off, his tongue eaten by rats, he shou–” you gasped as Alastor kissed you, pressing your body against his own. Why was he kissing you so passionately when you were talking about how his father should die.

He leaned back with a soft smile, that dangerous glint in his eyes back. You tilted your head, you didn't finish talking, it was rude of him.

“ Aah.. Darling, you are…” he sighed in bliss as you felt his nails dug comfortably into your waist.” What if.. What if I told you I didn't want him to be killed because..” he stared at you a moment before speaking again.” I want to be the one to kill him.”

You shivered even though you were against Alastor’s warm chest and under several blankets. Alastor wanted to kill his own father? You were staring at him while he was observing you, waiting for your reaction. Alastor wanted to kill his own father? Well, you did want the bastard dead and Alastor deserved his revenge but to kill.. to kill another human being…

“ Killing him…? But …”

“ Don’t see him as living being my dear, he isn’t worth the title. Think of it.. Like I’m going to hunt a dangerous animal that needs to be put down. I’m just like your ideal Prince charming , aren’t I? Killing dangerous people for his loved one?” He tilted his head with a soft smile.

You couldn’t help but nod. What he was saying was true. Killing his father would be a great thing. You were beginning to scared yourself as you felt no remorse or guilt to think about Alastor killing his father, his own blood. Why would you? He didn’t deserve to live after what he had done to Alastor and Marie. The idea didn’t scare you but your thoughts did. Deep inside you, you knew you weren’t scared because this idea was coming from Alastor. You trusted him with your life.

“ How would you kill him?” you asked, curiously. You giggled as he kissed you everywhere on your face. His body, once tense, was beginning to relax a little. You didn’t know what you had done but it seemed like your gave the answer Alastor was waiting for.

“ How I’m going to kill him, you mean. I have many ideas my dear! By knife, rifle or maybe by strangling him?” he pondered as he stared at the ceiling with a happy grin.

“ Won’t he be able to scream if you strangle him?” you asked. You remembered, when you were playing with your cousins, some would play a little too hard and would “strangle” you. You would just scream so your mother would come and scold your cousins.

“ Oh trust me dear, if you do it right, you can’t scream for help.”

“ How do you know?”

“ Well, I tried to scream for my mother one day.” he smiled at you and you felt angrier than you were minutes ago. His bastard father had strangled Alastor when he was a kid. What a demon! He really didn’t deserve to be alive! “ I have so many ideas!”

“ You know, If you really happened to kill him, I wouldn’t tell a soul… In fact.. If you need me at that moment.. I promise, I’ll be there.” you said sure of yourself. You did not know if you could handle everything but you’ll be by Alastor’s side from the beginning. You didn’t know if you could kill… It was a thought too far from your morals but helping Alastor if he happened to be injured or something else… That, you would do it.

“ Oh dear.. Don’t tell me that, you’re going to make me say things I’m not ready to tell yet.” he sighed dreamily as he tilted his head backwards. Now, that made you curious. What could Alastor be hiding, he just told you he planned to murder his father, what more could you be hiding ? You smiled as you nipped his neck, making him shiver.

“ Like what? Tell me. Tell me!” you smiled as you kept kissing him on his jaws, his cheeks and his nose. “ Come on now, you just told me you wanted to kill your father, what more can’t you tell me ?” you whined before settling against him once more. You closed your eyes and listened to his heartbeat. It was fast…

“ Fine… Dearest, once I have killed my father,” you hummed while he took your hand in his. “ Would you marry me?”

…

Oh Lord.

You sat up, staring at him. He was looking at you, kissing the back of your hand. You were shaking, did he .. did he..?

“ I won’t lie, I still don’t know what Love is about. I just know that I want you to be by my side, I don’t think I could remain sane if I were to see your attention shifting to someone else. Just like Narcissus with his own reflection, I can’t get enough of you and yet I feel so fulfilled when you are by my side. I’m… I think I may be obsessed with you. You are the person who brought my human heart to life, how odd. I know it’s not the love you read about or you wish for.. I don’t even know if this is love. But this is what I feel for you, and I don’t think I’ll be able to feel it for anyone else, heck, I don’t want to feel it for anyone else…I want you caged with me. I want you to think about me just like I’m always thinking about you.” he stared at you, waiting for your answer, caressing your trembling hand. His eyes were shaking but he kept his gaze on you, observing your reactions. “ Would you accept my mad affection?”

You were shaken. You were with Alastor, almost naked, sitting on his pelvis with a blanket around you and a snowstorm outside.You felt hot. So hot. Alastor wanted to marry you. He wanted you to be his wife? It felt like everything clicked in your brain. Each time you were running after him, each time you wanted to make him like you, each time you wanted him to see you as a lady, each time you asked him to let you enter into his mind, each time you felt anger when a woman would come close to him, each time you wanted him to watch you and only you.

You were madly in love and obsessed with Alastor.

You read so many love novels… The prince never asked the princess to marry after telling her he was going to kill his father. The prince never asked the princess to think about him only. Their love was pure, not tainted by obsession, not tainted by the immense need to be by their lover’s side… Their love was not like what was happening right now.

And yet you couldn’t be happier.

You smiled at him, your vision blurry because of the tears blinding your eyes.

“ Alastor.. I may be just a foolish sixteen year old girl. Maybe your obsession will pass when you see I have nothing to offer you but trust me, my affection for you has been present since the day I laid my eyes on you.” you felt him squeeze your hand harder as you continued your confession.” We are both young, so maybe you’ll change your mind. You’ll find a proper woman but I know that you are the only man I wish for in my life. The only man I wish I would marry…” you sobbed as you squeezed his hand back as he stared at you with clear obsession in his eyes. He leaned toward you, whispering against your lips.

“ Say it.. Say it..” he begged.

“ Yes, Alastor, I will marry you.”

He kissed you with a big smile you couldn’t help but imitate. He hugged you against him so hard you felt pain in your chest but you didn't care. You squeezed him as hard as you could, you’ve never felt happier.

“I feel like this is too good to be true…” you heard him say against your skin. You couldn’t help but laugh while wiping your eyes. You leaned back as you took both of his hands in yours.

“ It’s true.. I feel like.. Once we leave this place, everything would be a faraway dream.” you sighed with a soft smile. You felt like you were dreaming right now…

“ I.. May have an idea for that.” he smirked at you as you tilted your head, confused. “ I find myself being interested in voodoo.” he held his hand in front of your mouth as you gasped. “ No worry darling, voodoo is not a barbaric religion. It’s in my blood, I found books about it and where it came from. And, there are some rituals that can bind souls together�� Would you like to try it?”

“ For real?” you said, astonished. From what you heard, voodoo was a banned religion because it was witchcraft which came from black people. You didn’t really find yourself into religion, men killed for religion no matter which one. But if voodoo was something Alastor’s looked into and was coming from his ancestors, that could be interesting.

“ Yes indeedy. They wrote it as a curse though but…” you peck his nose before he could continue.

“ Yes, I want to.” you smiled. “ How do we do it?”

“ I don’t have the book with me right now. But it’s very specific.. I’ll need some of your blood.” he said carefully but soon his expression turned to surprise as you ran toward the kitchen and gave back with a knife. “ Well, aren’t you in a hurry to be bound to me body and soul?” he said with a teasing smile.

“ Oh, you are right, we can wait.” you said and smiled delightedly when you saw his expression twitched. You knew that Alastor would be the less patient of the both of you for this kind of thing, for you, which was surprising, he was known to be patient, very patient. “ Here I was, ready to make my ring finger bleed.” you shook your head with a saddened expression. “ How foolish…”

“ Dear…”

“ Seems like I’m in no hurry to become your wife!” you squeaked as Alastor tugged you against his chest with a smile so big it almost looked like inhuman.

“ Dearest, don’t play with me. Not with that.” he gently took the knife from your hand. “ No need for this. If you accepted, I could cut you.” he looked at you, seeming unsure. You tilted your head, cutting yourself seemed scary indeed.

“ It’s going to hurt, right..?” you asked softly. You watched as he played smoothly with the knife in his hand. You wished you knew how to do it…

“ I’ll try to make it so you don’t feel anything.”

“ No. I want to feel it. I want to feel this moment.” you said sure of yourself. Tonight would mark the first step of becoming Alastor’s wife, body and soul. You would be damned together or go to heaven together, there were no in between. You saw Alastor’s smile widened, it seemed like he was sharing the same feeling as you about this situation.

You looked as he sunk softly the knife’s edge into your skin. You shivered as you bit your lips, you were feeling no pain. You remembered in your romance books, normally the woman would be crying as the prince would pass the ring on her fingers. And yet, here you were, letting Alastor cut your skin and enjoying it.

He took a napkin from the table and held it against your bleeding finger.

“ Are you okay?” he asked, observing your reaction once more. You nodded, you don’t think you could feel even better ! He put the napkin on this table with a satisfied smile before you pinned him on the sofa, hugging him against you.

“ I’m the happiest girl in the whole world !” you shouted before leaving the sofa, leaving there a confused smiling Alastor, and you jumped everywhere. You couldn’t wait to tell your mother, your father, Alice ! You squealed in delight as you jumped around under Alastor’s soft gaze.

“ You gave me the best birthday’s present.” he said as he stood up. You grinned at him, his birthday was tomorrow, you needed to prepare the food. Even if you knew nobody would be coming, it was for the better!

You took Marie’s recipes’s book, still with the blankets around you.

“ Let your future wife cook for you!” you smiled confidently.

Alastor let you in the kitchen for 15 minutes before running back because he smelt fire. You just smiled sweetly at him with a burned stove. Alastor sighed with a tender smile before helping you cook. You wanted to try to cook something spicy, that’s why you had asked Alice to bring hot pepper for his birthday.

“ Do you think you could eat one and handle it ?” you teased him. He just looked at you and ate a whole pepper without flinching. You stared at him in shock. He winked at you before giving you a hot pepper with a mocking smile.

“ Could you handle it?”

You scoffed and took the hot pepper in your hands. If Alastor did it, you could do it! You took the whole hot pepper in your mouth and swallowed it. You waited a little then laughed at Alastor.

“ I had worse at my– Oh my god..” you stopped every movement as your felt pure fire began to grow inside of you. You felt tears streaming down your face as you coughed, holding on Alastor’s arms as he was laughing so hard you could see tears on the side of his eyes. “ Alastor, help me!” you tried to fan your tongue, jumping around as Alastor held himself against the wall, crying of laughter.

“ Haha! Dear, drink milk ! milk!” he laughed as he pointed to the fridge. You ran toward it and slammed its door open. Did you even have milk? Yes! You took the bottle and drank messily the milk until the bottle was half full. “ Oh dear… Would you like a kiss after this horrible experiment?” he smiled as he walked toward you, but as he leaned closer to your face you almost could feel the hot pepper still on his lips.

You ran away, screaming at him. You didn’t want to feel this pain anymore! You were screaming as Alastor ran behind you, his laughter echoing in the little cottage.You couldn’t help but smile, if this scene would represent your future with Alastor, you would love it!

After your battle, easily won by Alastor’s lips against yours, you went back to cooking. Alastor was showing you how to cook and you took notes. It seemed so easy from his movement. You were almost jealous but then you began to smile as you remembered that you would see this scene every day in the future.

“ You have such a big smile dear, does watching me cooking bring you such pleasure?” he asked teasingly. You stuck your tongue at him, you knew he was happier than he let on. His smile was more genuine and his body was more relaxed than you've ever seen him.

After an hour you went back to the living room, near the fire and ate Alastor’s cooking. You called your mothers to reassure them that everything was good and you were safe. You gossiped, played a few games, like poker and Alastor was way too good about it , you would just throw a pillow at him each time he would wink at you, meaning he knew he had won. You took a nap against Alastor’s chest and when you woke up it was almost midnight. You stood up from his chest and were surprised to see Alastor asleep. Maybe being away from everything, with you had made him relaxed enough that his body could sleep? You smiled and went to the kitchen and took a cake out of the fridge. You tried to make a coffee cake two days ago, you hoped it was still good… You put the candle on the cake and lit them up before walking toward the living room.

You saw an awaken Alastor turning his head toward you as you sat in front of him on your knees, with a soft smile and whispered in the quiet room.

“ Happy birthday, Alastor”

~~~

“ Happy birthday Alastor!” you all cheered and brough your glasses together. You were in a bar with jazz playing, celebrating the new year and Alastor’s 23th birthday. Alice was there, with some of Alastor’s friends, you didn’t really remember all of their names but one, Mimzy. It was a name you never heard of so it stuck with you.

Alastor has become a real man. He was taller than most people, his frame was deceivingly slim, his smile was as broad as ever, his hair were a little longer than when he was younger and as always , he had his glasses on. He was grinning as everyone congratulated him for his birthday. You looked at Alice with a soft smile.

Alice had changed too. Long gone was the sweet innocent looking girl, she was now a beautiful woman who was confident in any way. She had cut her long hair, now they ended toward her shoulder. She looked at you and winked.

“ Another shot?”

You laughed and nodded but Alastor stood up.

“ My dear friend, what a day to celebrate the new year and myself. I have happy news to share.” all of you looked at Alastor, waiting for him to tell you his news. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes with a smile, he was such an attention seeker. “ My voice is going to keep you company most of the day as I have been hired in a radio station.” he said with a proud smirk, his eyes never leaving yours. You shouted of pure happiness, standing up so abruptly the chair fell down behind you. You clapped just like the rest of the people around the table.

“ I knew you would do it, sweetie!” said Mizmy, giving him a side hug.

“ I'm paying for another round of shots!” you exclaimed with a big smile. You didn't even wait for everyone to tell you what they wanted. You were already going toward the barman. You were really walking straight but who cared, everyone here was busted.

“ Heya doll, whatcha want?”

“ Give me your strongest.” you said while pointing to your table. He nodded and you went back to your table who were still praising Alastor. You sat back down next to Alice.

“ Hearing Alastor’s voice all day? Ugh, I’ll have to endure it.” she said with an amused expression. You laughed, Alastor and Alice always say they didn’t like each other but when it was for you, they would team up.

“ I can’t wait to hear his voice on the radio. You don’t understand, we’ve been waiting for it since childhood!” you said with a nostalgic smile. You remembered your sleepover and your childish broadcast… Aah, how time flies. You smiled as the waitress put the shots on the table with a whole bottle of whiskey.

“ Order from the house.” she said flirty before leaving. You all took one shot and drank it. You try not to grimace, this one was really strong. You laughed as you saw Alice’s head fall against the table.

“ Oh, this one was a bitch.”

“ You need more training, love.” you heard Mimzy say to Alice as she tapped her back. You looked at Alastor who didn’t even flinch. He was talking with one of his friends but you knew better… Those friends must be useful in some way. Your expression lifted up as you heard a song you wanted to dance to. You moved Alastor’s friend out of your way and dragged him on the dancefloor. You laughed as he began to spinned you.

“ Are you sure you can handle me in that state, love?” he taunted you as he spinned you back against his broad chest. You winked at him, you may be more than tipsy but you weren’t drunk yet. You could handle him. You began to dance with Alastor, quickly being the center of all attention. You knew every step by heart, Alastor could throw you in the air you would just close your eyes and wait for him to catch once again.

After a lot of dances, you went back to your table as Alastor danced with Mimzy. You sat next to Alice, making air with your hand. So hot.

“ I won’t lie, there is so much tension between you I don’t know how you don’t just.. jump each other when you both are alone.” Alice said before drinking a glass of whiskey.

You laughed, smacking her arms. There have been moments where Alastor and you would make out so intensely you would get ready to give him your virginity but he always said to be patient and wait for your future wedding night even if it was killing you both. You respected his decision, you would wait for your wedding. The only person who knew what had happened in the cottage, the only one who knew about your promise, for Alastor 17th birthday was Alice, who almost broke every damn mirror with her screams.

“ What? Look at you ! You’re like.. ethereal ! And I’m the one saying that.” she said before slipping her hair to one side of her shoulder. You grinned, you did grow up well. Your mother was so proud of you and even your father. When your father had returned from war he was badly injured so you took upon yourself to be his personal nurse. You weren’t a perfect nurse but you knew how to clean wounds, do stitches, you weren’t disgusted by the sight of blood anymore. And to top it all off, you were used to seeing Alastor bring back dead animals from his hunt now. You weren’t the fragile little girl anymore. Something your parents would missed sometimes, but from your friends point of view and even Alastor’s, you could still be endearingly naive.

“ And what about you Alice? The jewel of New Orleans? No one fancied yet?” you smirked before taking a glass of whiskey. Alice had, as always, so many people who threw themselves to her feet but she didn’t care.

“ No, which is infuriating , look at me ! Poor little me being single!” she groaned as you laughed before hugging her. You knew Alice would find someone, she deserved it!

You kept celebrating until 3 am before you knew it was time for you to go. You were tired and you knew you would have to take care of your father if needed. He was doing well but he couldn’t stay still so he went to work with the police. What a stubborn man. You kissed Alice on her cheek and smiled when you felt a warm hand on your back.

“ Ready to go, dearest?” Alastor smiled at you, he already had his jacket on his arm. You nodded and said your goodbye before leaving the bar. You were staring at Alastor’s handsome punchable face. He looked down at you with a teasing grin. “ Yes ?”

“ Nothing.. I’m just admiring your face.”

“ Oh, please, do continue.” he chuckled as he walked you to your home. In front of your door you hugged him as he kissed your forehead. You began to turn away from him, ready to catch some sleep but he took your hands.

“ I say I had good news right?”

“ Yes, you are now a radio host.” you smiled before giving him a peck on his lips. “ I’m so proud of you. We’ve been waiting for this, haven't we?”

“ We have, indeedy, dearest. But I have some other news, for both of us.” He took your hand toward his mouth and kissed the back of it, staring into your soul.

“ My father is coming back.”

Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega @tiredflame132 @mo-0-o @vvollerie @sodavizz @boogiemansbitch @tessemerick @slytherin4ever @kammsinn @alastorssimp @t0xic1vi @diamond-almond @fangirlbitch02 @saccharine-nectarine @thenorthnightingale @bibliophile-yomna @itzjustj-1000 @mothraantics

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cosmerelists · 2 months

Text

If Other Stormlight Characters Served as the King's Wit

As requested by anon. :)

"The King's Wit" is there to insult people in the king's stead. In this role, Hoid basically gets to stand at the entrance to feasts and make fun of people. It's a good gig for him. But what if other characters had this job?

1. The Stormfather

Stormfather (rumbling with displeasure): You have broken an oath today. Stormfather: You promised your son that you would play "Shattered Plains" with him this afternoon, but you did not. Stormfather: Though you feast for today, my storm winds shall one day scatter your dishonored bones. Elhokar (visibly sweating): Ha ha my new Wit sure is, ah, intense!

2. Kaladin

Kaladin: Ew. Another Lighteyes... Kaladin: Sniff, sniff! Smells like the exploitation of the powerless in here! Kaladin: I can name a dozen men better than you and guess what--they're ALL darkeyed. Kaladin: Nice outfit--did it come free with your ancestral privilege? Elhokar (muttering to himself): I will not put him in jail again, I will not put him in jail again, I will not...

3. Shallan

Shallan: [sketching] Hapless Lighteyed guest: Is that...me? Shallan: It is! [shows Ideal Self portrait--it's the same person, only their sadness and distrust is gone and they shine with an earnest and honest light, looking out toward their future] Hapless Lighteyed Guest (visibly tearing up): I...It's beautiful. Shallan: Please, go ahead & take it! Elhokar: Shallan-Wit, why is everyone at my feast introspective and crying? Shallan: I'm really good at art.

4. Adolin

Adolin: Wow! You are so brave to put those colors together, and in a style from two years ago ago! Adolin: You are almost pulling it off.

5. Dalinar

Dalinar: Hello. I could not help but overhear your heated argument, my friends. Dalinar: It reminds me of a tale from the Way of Kings, which I will now quote from memory... Dalinar: ... Dalinar: Aaaaand, they fled. Dalinar: That's the third time that's happened this evening.

6. Ialai

Ialai: [hands hapless lighteyed guest a folded-up sheet of paper] Hapless Lighteyed Guest: W-Where did you get this information about me? And my husband? And my...former boyfriend's sister's cousin? Ialai: [merely smiles] Hapless Lighteyed Guest: W-What do you want? Please! I'll do anything! Ialai: Why...nothing at all. Yet. Please enjoy the feast.

7. Lift

Lift: Mmmm....4. Lift: A solid 6! Lift: Perhaps a 5, but ONLY because of those pants. Lift: Wow! An 8! Wyndle: P-Please mistress, I don't think the job of the King's Wit is to rank the butts of all attendees! Lift: They need to know.

8. Jasnah

Hapless Lighteyed Guest: Ugh, I don't think it's right for the king to employ a heretic as his Wit! Jasnah: It's strange--one might think that your faith in the Almighty would inspire you to strive to be a good man, yet in reality your mother weeps each and every night to have produced a son who loves drinking and gambling more than he loves his children, his wife, or indeed the Almighty. Jasnah: Should you wish to inspire faith in others, perhaps you should try to demonstrate even the smallest reason why yours has produced an iota of good for anyone in this world aside from yourself. Elhokar (across the room, watching): I...am afraid.

9. Lopen

Lopen: Hey, I know you! I got a cousin in your army! Lopen: He always laughs 'bout how weird it is that your officers make the men pay for their own boots 'n' stuff 'cause it's an army not a charity, right? But then your officer son gets an allowance which is funny 'cause that kinda seems like the 'charity' thing that an army isn't! Lopen: We Herdazians tend to use a word to mean a thing, yeah? But you Alethi sure like to make a word mean whatever it is you want!

10. Szeth & Nightblood

Nightblood: Evil. Evil. Evil. Definitely evil. Big evil! Little evil, but still evil. Szeth: You've identified every guest so far as evil, sword-nimi. Nightbood: Yeah, I'm so good at detecting evil! So when does the slaying start? Szeth: I told you. I don't murder entire parties anymore. That is my past, but it does not have to be my future. Nightblood: But you're the King's Wit! You got wit-tle down the evil, right? Szeth: That is not what that means, sword-nimi. Nightblood: ... Szeth: ... Nightblood: People sure do speed up when they have to walk past us, huh? Szeth: I am pretty sure that means we're doing a good job.

#cosmere #cosmerelists #Stormfather #Kaladin #Shallan #Adolin #Jasnah #Lopen #Nightblood #Szeth #Lift #Ialai #Dalinar

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azen13 · 2 months

Note

I'd love to inquire about the Starlight Pawnshop. While the chess piece intrigues me, can I have the double sided coin? (Hoping for Aventurine, you see!)

King of Hearts, Ace of Spades

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Double-Sided Coin: A coin where both sides show the same pattern, allowing its desperate holder to not need to rely on luck to win this bet and secure their prize.

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Description: You live on a dying planet, making just enough money playing poker to get by. One day, you meet a new player, Aventurine of the IPC, who has come to your world as a part of the IPC's plan to take your planet over. While he wasn't planning to make any big gambles himself, the thought of you being his might change his mind.

CW: Yandere Themes, Drinking, Mentions of Death, Non-Sexual Intimacy

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The scent of smoke and spirits is heavy and acrid, looming over your favorite poker table like a thunderstorm as the dealer shuffles a deck of cards. They’re red and black waterfalls in his weathered hands, rippling from left to right, right to left. Left to right, right to left, and again, and again. After you and the dealer, there are four empty wooden chairs, once occupied by players earlier in the night, now long gone after losing all their money. That left you and the strange man.

In your eyes, he looks rather gaudy in his well-pressed suit, practically shimmering from head-to-toe due to all the jewelry he wears. Unlike you and your rigid, controlled posture, he seems perfectly relaxed, draping himself over his chair, a king on his throne, overlooking his kingdom with a smile that seems to shine in his neon-colored eyes like diamonds. When the dealer passes out cards, dealing two to you and two to him, he glances at them without so much as a change in expression before he has settled back into his original position. His cards are so close to you that if you craned your neck just a little to the right, you might be able to know how to play this upcoming round. You know better, though. This is an impossibly important match, and if you lose it, you wouldn’t be able to pay your electric bill.

Still, the thought is tantalizing. Unlike the people you usually played against, who had easy tells and rarely won–unless you were having an off day–he was clearly well-versed in the game of poker, and had the luck to go with it: pocket aces, straights, a royal flush, even. You were certainly no novice either, but he had slowly been chipping away at you, taking high risk after high risk, to which you always folded, even when you had the cards to win.

Looking at your cards, you have to bite back a smile. In your hands lie the ace of diamonds and the ace of hearts: pocket aces. It was as though the stars–however invisible they were in the sky on your planet–had aligned in a serendipitous syzygy. This was the moment you needed. The moment your hard work would pay off. If all went well, you could pay your electric bill, as well as buy some bread. If you were really lucky, you could purchase a ticket off this planet, a world of decay and death, to go somewhere brighter and better, and start a new life.

Of course, that was all just wistful thinking, you remind yourself. Snapping yourself from your momentary reverie, you place your cards on the table, glancing over to the blonde stranger opposite to you. His eyes gaze at you with such unceasing focus, it almost feels like you’re being lasered straight through. You squirm in your seat a little, concentrating on the curve of his lip and the calm emanating from his posture, hoping to find some clues as to what your opponent might be thinking. Despite your best attempts, you come up with a blank.

“Why the long face, friend?” His voice snaps your attention like a toothpick, the words as thick and syrupy as honey as they pour over your ears. You do your best to force his voice out of your head, instead watching as the dealer lays out five cards in the center of the table and flips three over: king of hearts, jack of clubs, ten of diamonds. Just the sight of each card makes your heart thrum with excitement.

With shaky hands, you throw caution as far away as you can, and push your meager stack of chips into the pot. “All in,” you whisper. You have not prayed to the Aeons in many years, but in this moment, you send a silent prayer out to the cosmos, hoping for a response.

The stranger raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. Suddenly, you feel very small and insignificant, like an ant beneath a shoe. Perhaps this wasn’t a good decision, not when you’re on your last leg in this match, and you need this money. But playing it safe wasn’t working, and you’re almost out of money, so might as well go out with a bang, right? “All right,” he chuckles, leaning forward and using his free hand to push all his chips into the center of the table, “I suppose I’ll do the same.”

After a moment, the dealer flips over the remaining two cards: a queen of clubs and a ten of clubs.

Shuddering, you lay down your cards.

Your heart shatters so violently and thoroughly, nothing remains but a pit in your stomach.

He has pocket aces too, but unlike you, he has the ace of clubs, giving him a straight flush.

For several minutes, you watch yourself sit listless, as the dealer gives your opponent the winnings and heads off for the night. Now, in this part of the gambling den, only you and the winner remain. The man picks up a red and white chip, running a gloved finger across its damaged edge. “A good game. Excellent, even,” he remarks, flipping the coin in the air and catching it in his palm. He looks at you again, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. “How about a drink? I’ll pay.”

You want to say no. All you want to do is go home and cry and scream and figure out how you’re going to sustain yourself for the next week or so. You want to eviscerate this stranger for taking your money when he hardly needs it. He isn’t struggling to pay bills, or afford food and water. But you are. Even though you want to do these things, a free drink is a free drink, and with how tight money will be in the upcoming weeks, it’s not like you can decline the offer. “Sure.” You let him guide you away from the poker table, past strangers clad in shadows betting their miniscule fortunes and drunkards drowning in fleeting moments of hedonism to a small bar.

Lit by flickering neon lights and pungent with the smell of cheap liquor, it reminds you of everywhere on your home planet: trashy. There are no patrons by this time of night; all the reckless people have already spent their money, and those smart enough to not give into temptation know the price is far too much for just one pleasant night.

The man sits on a stool, lounging just as comfortably as he did at the poker table. “Well, what do you want?” He asks, propping up his chin with a hand. You search the bar, trying to find a menu, but come up with nothing. Not knowing what to do or say, you shift on your feet, chewing on your lip as your eyes flit over the room again.

Noticing your unease, your former opponent simply chuckles, sidestepping you to walk up to the counter. “Two glasses of sparkling water please,” he says, pulling out a black and gold credit card and sliding it over to the bartender. After a moment, he’s already handing you a fluted glass full of a pale, effervescent liquid. “By the way, I’m Aventurine,” the man says, offering his free hand to you.

In return, you muster up a weak smile, though bitterness leaks through the cracks. “I’m Y/N,” you respond. You clasp his hand and shake it once or twice, before letting go. After a moment, you take a sip of your drink. “Thank you for buying me this,” you add.

Aventurine waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s nothing,” he says, “it’s not every day I get to play against someone so talented.” Even with how horrible you feel, the compliment is enough to brighten your expression a little.

A momentary silence settles over the two of you, and you feel the urge to say something. To do something. But before you can ask a question, something stops you in your tracks.

Your stomach growls.

You feel your face warm a little, embarrassed at how loud the sound is in the quiet. Aventurine tilts his head a little, an eyebrow raised. “Hungry?” he asks.

You give a curt nod. “Food is hard to come by nowadays. I make it by with gambling, but…” your voice falters into a sigh. This man isn’t family, a lover, or even a friend. Just an acquaintance you met only hours ago. You shouldn’t be sharing your life problems with him. “With everything getting worse, it’s only getting harder and harder,” you explain.

Aventurine’s eyes are intense. You never noticed how strikingly beautiful they are, as luminescent as the lights overhead. They gaze at you with a certain understanding, a solidarity even, as though he is silently saying ‘I have been hungry, too.’ Then you watch the light in them shifts, darkening like clouds covering the sun. “I could help you,” the blonde gambler offers, a smirk dancing on his lips, “for a price.”

At the sight of your confused expression, Aventurine continues. “I could give you anything you might want. Food. Water. Shelter. Luxury. I can show you the universe,” he says, gesturing to a cracked window showing the expansive, empty night sky. You have a distant memory of seeing the stars as a young child, but they are long gone, obscured by decades of pollution.

“What’s the price?” You ask, immediately thinking of an old saying your parents used to tell you as a child: nothing in life comes for free. For such a bargain, surely there must be a price to pay?

With the flick of his wrist, Aventurine procures a poker chip in his hand, tossing it up and catching it; unlike the warped, dingy ones the gambling den owned, the one he held is in mint condition, colored green and gold. “Oh, nothing too costly,” he chuckles, leaning in. “Just you,” he murmurs.

While the air feels electrified, you feel frozen in place. “I don’t understand,” you respond, the words moving past your lips like a drunk man hobbling home. Perhaps you are drunk with how your mind is spinning in every direction like a tornado. You check your glass. Still practically full.

Aventurine’s smile widens. “And you don’t have to.” His eyes bore into yours; for a moment, you feel like you’re being hypnotized by how the kaleidoscopic hues in them seem to swirl and shift. You want to move, but you’re still frozen where you stand. “To be honest, I myself hardly understand what I see in you,” he adds, “but I know I need it. I need you.”

The declaration hangs over your head like a thunderstorm, ready to strike you down in all its passion. Before it can, though, you manage to stand up on shaky limbs. “I refuse,” you mutter, storming out of the gambling den, leaving Aventurine sitting alone.

An easy smile rests on his face, his mind assured that this won’t be the last time he sees you.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

You return to the gambling den the next evening, intent on one thing: winning. Your electric bill payment might be late, but if you manage to eke out a victory, you can pay for both that and your upcoming water bill. Your dreams are immediately halted by the sight of Aventurine, lounging at your table as though it’s his, eyes glittering with what you now recognize as greed. It only takes a moment for you to put the pieces together: how precarious your finances are; how you make most of your money through gambling; how much he needs you.

He’s trying to crush any chance you might have at earning money, so that you willingly walk into his arms.

His expression is unceasing. He knows you’ll give in eventually, you have to. But you aren’t going to give him the satisfaction of winning. Not yet. So, with fire in your heart and daggers in your eyes, you stalk over to your table, and sit yourself down.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

It’s only a matter of days before you lose everything. Electricity. Water. Heat. Sewage. Waste. You don’t try to scrounge around for food or water, and don’t even bother looking for a job. You haven’t heard of an open one for weeks, especially with unemployment rising steadily. Most of all, you don’t bother going to the gambling den. You don’t want to see Aventurine’s smug expression.. Your home, a small, drab concrete box, will be your tomb. You’re sure of it.

That is, until you see those neon eyes glowing in the darkness of your room.

Immediately, you attempt to stand up, but your body protests, your vision growing blurry from vertigo. “What are you doing here?” You mumble. You try to channel fury in your voice, but you can’t find any fire in yourself, only weak, meaningless sparks.

Aventurine only laughs. “I’m here to offer you another deal.” With the flourish of a hand, he pulls out a small poker chip, the same one he held that fateful night you first met him. “If you accept, I’ll uphold my end of the bargain, and give you anything you want. But if you win a coin flip, then you don’t have to uphold your end,” he explains. “And let’s be honest: you don’t exactly have any more options, do you?” he asks, that smug smirk easily settling on his face. You scowl at him, but say nothing.

Finally, after a few seconds, you mutter a half-hearted ‘fine’. With the way Aventurine’s eyes light up, it’s like he’s already won. You suppose he has. After all, he has an extraordinary ability to get lucky when necessary.

“Hearts or spades?” he asks, though you hardly pay attention. You grunt out the former, watching as the coin flies high into the air, a blur of motion, before settling back down into Aventurine’s palm.

You see the symbol of a spade, but instead of fear, you feel relieved, oddly so. You slump into yourself a little more, sinking back down to the floor. After a moment, you feel Aventurine’s presence by your side. “Hey, love, it’s okay,” he murmurs, tenderly brushing some of your messy hair out of your face. Then he starts working his hands against your scalp, gently attempting to detangle the knots in your matted hair. “I know how hard this must be, but it’s going to be alright,” he whispers. “I’m going to take good care of you, I promise.”

To your worn-down mind, that sounds divine.

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sixx-sixx-sixx · 5 months

Text

THE TRADER’S DAUGHTER — cooper “the ghoul” howard x female!oc

EDIT; FOLLOW @bonafideyapper FOR FUTURE PARTS

warnings(?): dbf!cooper, female!oc, oc is described as brown eyed (but feel free to picture whatever you want), proofread to the best of my ability (correcting capitalization is not my priority on my phone, this is hard enough to format as is), this series will have smut at some point but let me work up to writing that (meaning, let me smoke this joint and see where the wind takes me), there’s allusion to smut in this towards the end but it’s nothing wild

(this is part one of some) - part 2

Daisy hadn’t seen Cooper for a very, very long time. She’d never forgotten the charismatic cowboy that told her stories of the old world and of his encounters with creatures in the wasteland. The ghoul that would bring her little trinkets from his travels, gifting her a pearl necklace for her 10th birthday. A single pearl on a dainty silver chain that she would wear every day until it wore out. She was 13 when that happened, and was utterly devastated. Thankfully, she had charmed a local boy for a new chain, sneaking behind her dad’s back to go on a few dates with the kid. She’s continue to flirt with men and make empty promises to them to replace the chain each time it broke.

Cooper had gotten himself into some thick shit, spending a good time locked up by some raiders and other bullshit that got him sidetracked. On the other side of the goddamn wasteland, on the fucking east coast. How did he even get to the fucking east coast? By the time he made it back to the trading post, over a decade had passed, and it showed in the size of the once-familiar settlement. More gambling, more fighting in the streets, whole lotta bad shit that he didn’t have time to get involved with. He made his way through the town, his gaze trained on the old trading post at the center of town. He took careful notice of how men sneered at him as he passed by them, mumbling some racist bullshit about his ghoulishness.

Fuck them, he thought as he stepped up to the door of the trading post. He opened the door to hear the old bell jingle to alert his presence, watching as a young woman walked out from the back room with a routine “Welcome to Jo’s Shack, what can I get you?” leaving her pretty pink lips.

Daisy was almost in shock, seeing the ghoul standing in her doorway. She had assumed the worst over the years, as his visits had become less and less until they were not at all. She figured he was dead, shriveled up and baking in the sun. Or worse, she worried he had gone feral, which was always going to be inevitable in his case. Either way, she would keep extra chems stocked for the day he returned.

Cooper strolled towards the counter and looked at the girl, recognizing those big brown eyes from a mile away. “Hey, little flower. Your daddy around?” He asked her, his eyes flickering down to look at the pearl around her neck. Huh, he didn’t know she’d have kept it all those years. Pretty things were hard to keep around these parts.

Daisy’s face broke out into a grin and she gave him a little nod, leaning forward to get a good look at him. “Sure is, I’ll go get him for you. he’s not gonna believe this.” She had to fight to maintain her composure and keep her excitement at bay, going through the back room and up the stairs to the second floor of the shack to where her father was sleeping. In the ghoul’s absence, Daisy had grown to be a respectable trader, taking over the face of her father’s shop after growing up learning from the best. Although the population was tougher, she was just as tough, and nobody dared to fuck with Jo’s Shack or the woman running the place.

She stepped back out to the main room and leaned against the newly-reinforced counter, a bright smile on her face as she gazed up at him. He was just as handsome as she remembered, though she was never truly able to capture how his eyes lit up at the sight of her.

“Flower, you are just as pretty as a peach.” Cooper flashed her a wide grin, unashamedly flirting with the girl who he had essentially watched grow up. And whew, did she grow up good. He couldn’t help himself as he let his sunken eyes roam over the smooth, exposed skin of her chest, the tank top she wore under her unzipped jacket left little to the imagination.

Daisy thought his southern drawl was absolutely intoxicating as she slid a little box of chem vials across the counter to him, “Thank you, Coop. Don’t tell dad I gave these to you.” She winked and leaned back as her dad came out to greet his old friend, letting the two men greet each other like they hadn’t spent any time apart.

“Cooper Howard, you son of a bitch! I hope you brought me that Brahmin you still owe me.” Josiah grinned as he pulled the ghoul in for a hug, giving him shit over some long-forgotten wager on a card game. Coop patted him on the back with a shit-eating grin, “Yessir, why, yo’ momma’s waitin’ outside!”

Daisy watched Cooper closely as she stood beside her dad, taking in the way his skin had started to redden in places she didn’t remember being scarred over before. She had spent her whole adolescence infatuated with him, playing it off as a silly little girl crush on a big strong man (who had killed for her, but that’s a story for another day.) Her pulse quickened as she overhead her father invite the ghoul inside for a drink and to rest, watching him come around the counter to push through the curtains leading to the back.

It was fucked up, Cooper knew that. He knew it was fucked up to already be thinking about the woman behind him. Thinking about how sweet she sounded when she said his name, thinking about that little pearl necklace dangling in his face as she skillfully sat atop his—

He really needed that drink, and maybe a puff of his inhaler before he went feral at the thought of something as soft and pretty as his Daisy having anything to do with something as scarred and distorted as him.

a/n: okay yall what do we think about part one? I got to the app to post it and immediately rewrote the ending because I hated the original, so I hope this was good!

taglist: @savanahc @one-of-thewalkingdead @silverose365 @neverendingdumptser

#the ghoul fallout #the ghoul x oc #the ghoul fanfiction #the ghoul imagine #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard x oc #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #fallout imagine #cooper howard smut #teehee #trader’s daughter

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radioisntdead · 3 months

Text

Happy Father's Day folks! I bring you Alastor, Vox and Husk dad headcanons because the original fic I was writing wouldn't be done in time so that'll be posted eventually.

Alastor

Well it looks like someone got picked up off the streets! You!

I love the accidentally became a dad trope for Alastor, he just causally stumbled upon you and then couldn't get rid of you.

Occasionally tries to get you to sign your soul to him especially if you have potential to become someone great and powerful.

Fails to optain your soul EVERY SINGLE TIME, L, sucks for him.

The only screentime you get is when the hotel has movie nights or whenever anyone that's not Alastor is babysitting you lets you watch cartoons.

Teaches you how to cook Louisianan dishes, like how his mother taught him.

I imagine he reads you the original version of the grimm brother fairy tales.

You get him this shirt and he wears it as a pajama or whenever Lucifers near by.

He doesn't seem like the type to drive but if he does he plays jazz and talks about it like how dad's talking about rock or whatever they listen to.

Dad jokes, dad jokes galore.

Vox

Firstly I am so sorry that you're an iPad kid!

Does NOT LEAVE YOU ALONE with Valentino,

Depending if you're biological child from his time alive or not you might actually have a screen head.

iPad kid, iPad Dad.

Valentino is smart enough to know that he's not to mess with you but it's Valentino.

Velvette is either your aunt, older sister figure or cousin figure.

Definitely gives you all the latest electronics.

I'm pretty sure you're a nepotism baby here so you wanna star in a movie? A regular NON- Valentino film? You're the main character! You wanna start a singing career? Hatsune Miku who?

You probably have your own show on his TV programs.

Someone upsets you? You're whipping out your phone and calling Daddy.

Like my other Dad vox headcanons, You just chill out in his office at times, or chill out in the back while he's hosting a meeting popping in with your two cents every once in awhile.

In the totally unlikely event that he gets taken out during extermination, you get Voxtech.

Husker

If you're underage he's not giving you drinks, doesn't matter that you're both in hell, you're not drinking underage!

He's definitely the type of dad to let you take a sip from his beer during like new years or something though but like not a whole bottle.

I personally headcanon that he's been divorced like twice and has at least two kids so who knows you might have a sibling running around somewhere!

I imagine you're also a cat, meow.

He's actually a decent dad, definitely supports you in whatever you wanna do although grumpily.

Has a picture of you as a baby in his wallet, or hat.

You mention you like that specific brand of chips? He's getting you some every time he goes to the store.

Your favorite soda is A PAIN TO FIND? and it's only at specific stores? He gets you a couple of them whenever he sees them.

Teaches you magic tricks and also how to gamble,

He taught you everything he knows.

Happy Father's Day folks! I hope you have a wonderful day and spend time with your fathers/father figures or if you don't have one of those that you have a good day regardless,

Despite the oddly common assumption, I do infact have a Dad, so I will be hanging out with my dad until he has to leave because he's going to a game, as always thank you for tuning in!

Psst! You should totally join our discord server!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader #husk x reader #husker x reader #vox x reader

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sitrihasthoughts · 2 months

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Obey Me! Characters' Yearly Camping Trip in the Human World

Part One (Demon Brothers)

Part Two (Side Characters) (Coming Soon)

Lucifer

♡ The babysitter of the group.

♡ Supposed to be on a vacation, but it only puts more stress on him.

♡ Spent hours trying to find people who kept getting lost on hikes.

♡ Almost roasted Solomon over the campfire when the sorcerer almost burnt the campsite by trying to cook hot dogs.

♡ His favorite moment was listening to the nighttime ambience with MC in silence while everyone else was asleep.

♡ Will say he's never doing this again but will 100% go camping again next year (it turns into a yearly tradition).

Mammon

♡ Always gets lost with MC.

♡ One time lost his wallet with a picture of MC during a hike and almost tore the whole forest down to find it (he would rather die than admit to anyone that he brought a picture of MC everywhere he went).

♡ Heard a story about hidden treasure at the bottom of the lake and tried to find it.

♡ Held onto MC during scary campfire stories but never admits it.

♡ Fought with his brothers during the drive there so he could stay in MC's tent.

♡ Wanted to drive off to find somewhere to spend money or gamble but Lucifer tied him to a folding chair.

Leviathan

♡ Suffering the most.

♡ Almost went ballistic knowing he was missing a lot of new anime episodes, so he coped by bringing tons of manga with him.

♡ Summoned Lotan to extinguish Solomon's fire, almost destroying the campsite too.

♡ Ended up getting lost during the hike with Mammon and MC.

♡ His favorite part was reading manga with MC under a flashlight in the night and when they went swimming together in the lake.

♡ Made up the hidden treasure story.

Satan

♡ Loved telling scary campfire stories.

♡ Chased Levi and Mammon around for accidentally getting one of his books wet.

♡ Also somehow got lost during the hike when he stopped to watch some stray cats.

♡ Tried to take the cats home but ultimately failed.

♡ Avoided dinner because he knew Solomon would try something.

♡ Brought tons of books.

Asmodeus

♡ Also suffered without internet.

♡ Loved taking aesthetic photos with MC.

♡ Somehow didn't get lost.

♡ Brought everything but bug spray (he complained about it during the entire hike).

♡ Was one of the brothers fighting with Mammon to have a tent with MC.

♡ Mammon accidentally splashed water on him while he was tanning, so Asmo ended up borrowing one of Satan's water bazookas.

Beelzebub

♡ His favorite part was stargazing and wishing on shooting stars with Belphie and MC.

♡ Loved the hike but ended up getting lost because he stayed with Belphie, who took a nap in a tree.

♡ Was about to chuck Solomon for ruining dinner and wasting food.

♡ Tried stand-up paddle boarding and kayaking with Diavolo (it ended up being a good arm workout even though they fell a few times).

♡ Snuck into MC's tent with Belphie to sleep with them (Mammon was furious).

♡ MC showed him how to make s'mores and he loved them, making dozens.

Belphegor

♡ Got lost during the hike because he slept in one of the trees.

♡ His favorite part was stargazing with Beel and MC.

♡ Was sleeping during the entire dinner fiasco and woke up to a soggy yet charred campsite.

♡ Probably enjoyed the camping trip the most.

♡ Probably also one of the only people to admit that they enjoyed it.

♡ Started the trend of everyone going to sleep in MC's tent.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me swd #omswd #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me mc #obey me headcanons #obey me fandom

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irkimatsu · 6 months

Note

So I've got a request that may be odd but interesting. Reader/Husk where things start off with Husk being an Overlord and Reader a lowly sinner down on their luck, but after a long period of separation (things going sour, Alastor's doing, or whatever sounds best to you) they reunite and rekindle their relationship when Husk has lost everything and is working at the hotel, and Reader has risen the ranks to become an Overlord themselves. GN Reader is fine, thanks for your time!

Oh god help me I made this one angsty. I hope this is along the lines of what you wanted!

3.2k words (help), angst with a happy ending, SFW besides the usual swearing you expect from Hazbin fics. Reader finds Husk again after a decade apart, a tearful reunion is had, oh god help me

---

You stand in the middle of a grand ballroom, with a live band playing acoustic music and food and drink as far as the eye can see. Dozens of demons fill the hall, the most influential Sinners in the Pride Ring joined by their associates and servants.

It’s not the first time you’ve been to one of these gatherings, but it’s your first time here while on the other end of the leash.

You have to admit, it’s somewhat lonely here at the top. You’re not completely alone; like everyone else here, you’ve brought along your favorite contracted soul, who has just brought you a glass of champagne and earned a pat on his head for his troubles. But as you sip your drink, you can’t help but remember something with a smile.

He’d spit this out and ask where the scotch was…

It’s so strange not having his strong arm pinning you to his side. You can still see the charming expression on his face as he speaks with another Overlord, even as his tail waves as a warning to everyone who speaks to him. You know what that tail is saying without him needing to open his mouth.

“I’ll respect you if you respect me, but if you even think about trying anything with my pet, you’re dead.”

A lot of servants here are openly fearful or disdainful of their owners, but Overlord Husk never made you feel anything less than cared for. Sure, he had needs from you, but you enjoyed fulfilling those needs, especially knowing that he’d back down if you asked. He was cocky, spoiled, and reckless, but he adored you and always made sure to show it, both to you and to anyone who dared suspect that you were only a trophy he’d happily gamble away.

Then one day, he was just… gone. You woke up in his bed in the mansion like so many other mornings, and immediately you noticed that you couldn’t feel the faint bindings of his leash around your neck. You searched the mansion for him, but instead, you found Alastor reclining in Husk’s favorite lounge chair, sipping rye from one of Husk’s own glasses.

“Husker is no longer in need of your services, my dear. You’d best be on your way.”

He wouldn’t explain things any further than that, and you never heard from Husk again. What happened to him? Why would he just leave you like that, after years of calling you his most precious treasure…?

You need to shake those thoughts from your head before you have a breakdown in the middle of the party, so you join a nearby group of Overlords you can’t identify by name, intending to nod along and pretend to participate in their conversation. They appear to be discussing that rehabilitation hotel that Lucifer’s daughter started up. You continue sipping your drink and listening, hoping they don’t notice your silence.

“I still think it’s a foolish idea…”

“They did a wonderful job fighting off those exorcists, though. Imagine, we may never have to worry about another extermination thanks to that hotel!”

“Did you see any of the battle?”

“Oh, heavens, no, I never dare leave my shelter during an extermination, and I certainly don’t want to watch such a thing on TV!”

“Well, I caught some of it on the news, and would you believe, I could have sworn I saw the Gambling Demon fighting with the rest of Charlie’s crew!”

You try your damnedest to hide your shock at that news. At the very least, you manage to avoid dropping your glass.

“The Gambling Demon! Staying at Charlie’s hotel?! Surely you’re mistaken! And here I thought Alastor had him killed!”

“Oh, he looks different to be sure. He’s gotten a lot thinner, a lot scruffier. But how many tuxedo cats with giant wings do we have flying around in Hell? It had to have been him!”

“What do you suppose he’s doing in that place? Surely that old drunk doesn’t think Heaven would ever take him?”

“What kind of people does Heaven take, anyway…?”

As the discussion drifts away from the Gambling Demon, your attention drifts away from the discussion.

You’ll need to drop by that hotel sometime soon.

—

It takes you a few days to get away for long enough to stop by the hotel. Who knew Overlord business could be so exhausting? No wonder Husk needed your help with stress relief so often. But finally, after days of wondering, you find yourself standing outside the doors of the recently rebuilt Hazbin Hotel.

Surely it was all rumors, a cruel game of telephone meant to get your hopes up before harshly striking them down. You wouldn’t find him here. Not here, of all places. As far as you know, he’s dead.

But still, you have to know…

With a deep breath, you steel your nerves and push the door open. You’ve barely stepped into the lobby when a cheerful voice starts calling out to you.

“Oh! Hey there!” A group of demons are sitting in a circle of chairs, and all of them are now staring at you. Most of them are strangers, but you do recognize the one who’s enthusiastically waving at you as Princess Charlie herself.

You also recognize the winged cat who is currently staring at you with wide eyes and mouthing something inaudible. He’s much thinner, unhealthily so, and he doesn’t appear to be taking nearly as much care of his fur as he used to… but it can’t be anyone else, can it?

“You’re just in time!” Charlie says as she launches out of her seat and runs up to you. “We were just starting today’s trust exercise! Would you like to join us? It’s a perfect way to see what the Hazbin Hotel is all about!”

She’s speaking so quickly you can barely follow her.

“Oh, right, introductions! My name’s Charlie! What’s your name?”

You tell her your name, and she squeals with glee as she takes your hand. “Come on, come sit with us! Let me introduce you to everyone! This is Angel Dust, and Niffty, and Husk…”

You don’t remember any of the names she says after Husk’s. It really is him. The instant you lock eyes with him, you can’t look away. He’s frozen stiff, only the slight twitches of his tail showing that he hasn’t turned to stone.

“...and we have plenty of open rooms! What size bed do you like? Do you smoke? I know it’s hard to quit, and we’ll help you with that, but before then I can make sure you get a room with a balcony-”

“Charlie!” A girl with long white hair laughs and grabs Charlie’s hand to pull her back down into her seat. “Calm down! I think you’re freaking them out!”

“Sorry, Vaggie, sorry!” Charlie says. “It’s just always so exciting to see a new guest!”

“I don’t think it’s Charlie’s fault,” says the pink spider sitting on Charlie’s other side. “Seems like they just got distracted by our bartender. You like him, don’tcha? I know he’s cute, but don’t try pettin’ him, he bites.”

Husk must be stunned if he’s not reacting to a joke about his cat form. You’ve seen him punch other Overlords for that.

A bartender, though… that part doesn’t surprise you at all. But why here?

“Did you want to get a room set up first?” Charlie asks you. “I can help you pick one out, then we can come do the trust exercise! Oh, I can’t wait to get to know you!”

“I’ll take care of ‘em,” Husk says as he rises to his feet with a grunt.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Husk! I can-”

“I’m the concierge here, ain’t I? Takin’ people to their room is part of my job.”

“Normally you complain when we ask you to check people in,” Vaggie says.

Husk shrugs at Vaggie’s observation as he heads toward the hotel’s bar. He grabs a box from beneath the bar and shakes it. “So, what size bed? You want a balcony?”

“Um… king?” you say, not sure if it’s an option. “Balcony is fine.”

“Mmm…” he stirs the contents of the box around with his claws for a moment, then takes out a key card and reads it. “Right, here’s one. Fifth floor.” He puts the box back where he found it, then pulls out a book and a pencil. He flips through the book for a specific page, then scribbles something inside it.

He writes your full name perfectly, despite you not saying it directly to him.

Once that’s taken care of, the book also returns to where it came from. “C’mon.” He heads to the stairwell, and you follow.

What should you say to him? Should you say anything? Should you give him the first word? He doesn’t appear to be taking it as the two of you silently climb the stairs.

You reach the fifth floor, and your hotel room, without either of you saying a thing. “This is it.” He swipes the card and opens the door for you. “Look good?”

It’s a fully decorated room, with potted plants and wall art and a comfortable looking bed. It’s not entirely to your taste, but you can tell whoever designed it took great care with it.

“Don’t mind the art, you can replace that if you want. You might be staying for a while, so make it yours.”

“All right… thank you.”

Over a decade, and that’s all you can say to him?

You expect him to leave you to get settled in, but he keeps standing there, propping the door open. “Hey, uh… do I… know you, from somewhere?”

Your heart gives a single, heavy thud. “I think so… if you’re who I think you are.”

“Can I come in?” he asks. “Talk to you for a minute?”

“What about Charlie?” you ask.

“She’s patient,” is all he says before walking into the room. You follow him in and shut the door behind you. He’s standing in the middle of the room now, not looking at you. He seems to be at a loss of what to do with himself.

“...it’s really you,” he finally says, still facing away. “Before you said your name to Charlie, I thought… it couldn’t be…”

“Husk…” is all you can say. How long has it been since you’ve said that name? It feels so wonderful rolling off your tongue. At the sound of his name, he finally turns around to face you.

“...I missed hearing that…”

Your head is in conflict over what you should do now. Hug him and promise not to lose him again? Slap him and ask where the hell he’s been all this time? Break down crying, overwhelmed with thoughts of how you just spent the last ten years assuming he was dead?

“What happened…?” is all you can manage to say, without moving an inch.

His ears tilt down and he grumbles to himself as he grips his arms. “I didn’t want… didn’t mean… I’m sorry. He wouldn’t… I couldn’t…” he takes a deep breath. “...a lot’s happened since the last time I saw you.”

“Can you tell me about any of it?” you ask.

“Can we sit?” he asks in return. You nod in agreement, and the two of you sit on the edge of the hotel bed.

“How much do you know already?” Husk asks.

“Not much,” you say. “I went to sleep by your side one night, and then I never saw you again. That’s all.”

“Do you remember what I told you that night?” he continues.

“That you had a big meeting the next morning, but that I shouldn’t worry about it and you’d be home soon…” The gears start turning in your head. “What happened at that meeting…?”

“I lost,” Husk says. “I lost everything to Alastor. The money, the casinos, the mansion, the staff… even my own soul. A few bad hands, and that was it.”

You once again remember seeing Alastor that day, and your hand goes up to your throat. “Did you lose me to…?”

“I didn’t lose you to anyone!” Husk insists. “I promised I’d never bet your soul, didn’t I? I didn’t bet it then, either. He didn’t want me keeping you, said a pet didn’t need a pet of his own… but there was no fucking way I was letting him have you. Letting you go before he took everything from me was the best thing I could do for you.”

“And you couldn’t tell me?” Tears are welling in your eyes. Are you relieved? Angry? Where has he been?

“He wouldn’t let me!” Husk says, defensive. “Wouldn’t even let me near any of the property I used to own! I couldn’t tell anyone from those days what happened! He wanted everyone to think he’d killed me!” He needs a few breaths to calm himself down. You barely recognize your old Overlord in his current face; he looks so lost and tired. “Believe me, I didn’t just give up. I looked for you when I could, but I didn’t know where to begin, especially when I couldn’t even get into my own casinos anymore. If I had any idea where you were, I swear I would have found you…”

If he still doesn’t know where you’ve been, then clearly he forgot to check somewhere vital. “Have you been keeping an eye on the Overlords recently?”

“Like I want anything to do with that fucking group ever again,” he spits out. “I still hate how I lost everything, but I know it’s for the best that I got out of there with some dignity intact… wait.” He sits up and stares at you. “Is that where you’ve been?”

You smile and nod. He chuckles in response and leans back on his hands.

“Heh… should’ve known you’d find another Overlord to take care of you. I just hope they’re good to you… I may not be as powerful as I once was, but I’ll still kill anyone who tries messing with you. I ain’t breaking my promises to you, not even now.”

“Husk…” you say with a shake of your head. “I’m not on anyone’s leash anymore. Not since I lost you.”

“Eh?” He raises a large, red eyebrow. “Then what are you doing, hanging around with Overlords?”

“Well… I am one now,” you said. “After you left, I had to fend for myself. I started a business, made connections with the people you used to know, and now… here I am.”

“No shit… you as an Overlord,” he says. “Not surprised you managed to climb that high, if that’s what you wanted. I just hope you’re playing fair. Not like some of the other scumbags with that title.”

You can’t help but wonder if he’s including himself in “scumbags”.

“Of course I play fair,” you say. “I learned a lot from you. It’s ruthless work, but it doesn’t mean I have to mistreat people for it.”

“Good to hear,” he says. “Good to know some people down here don’t let power completely fuck ‘em up. What kinda souls you own?”

“I try to make fair deals,” you say. “Hiring people to work in factories, using contracts to protect company secrets, that sort of thing. I think my people are happy where they are. I try to make it less awful than it could be, at least.”

“Got any pets?” Husk continues.

“Pets…? Oh.” It takes a moment for you to catch his meaning. “No, no! I’m not interested in that sort of thing. Everyone just works for the company. No personal relationships.”

“Huh… shame. Having a pet is a lot of fun. Getting to spoil ‘em, seeing ‘em smile when you’re around… pissing off other Overlords who don’t understand why their souls hate them so damn much, but your pet can’t keep their paws off of you…” He sighs and closes his eyes. “It was nice, having you by my side. I regret a lot of shit from back then… but I don’t regret having you. …at least, as long as you don’t regret it. Was I good to you back then…?”

“You were amazing,” you assure him as you lean against him. “Amazing enough that… that I can’t see myself with a pet of my own. I don’t belong on that side of the leash… and I don’t belong on anyone else’s leash, either.”

“...you know I’m washed up,” he says. “I ain’t got shit left. No money, no influence, just a damn chain around my neck forcing’ me to do the bidding of a sadistic freak who thinks I’m an animal.”

“Husk…” You can’t help but hug him tight as you hear just what he’s been going through in your time apart.

“I can’t spoil you anymore. I can’t take you to parties, I can’t buy you expensive gifts… that shit’s over now. You’re staring at… well, you’re staring at a withered old husk.”

“Can you still sing to me?” you ask. “And dance with me? Perform tricks for me?”

“I… maybe?” he says. “I’m out of practice. Haven’t had a reason to do any of that for years.”

“But could you?” you repeat.

“I mean… I’d like to… I’ve missed it.” He smiles again, his eyes staring off into the distance. “I still remember how you’d smile when I sang your favorite love songs…”

“I always loved your voice,” you say. “I still remember what you sound like when you sing. I think about it sometimes…”

“Yeah?” he says. “...I think about it too. You smiling as I’d sing to you, and… and hold you…” You’ve been waiting ever since you leaned in, but finally, his arms are wrapped around you. “And tell you that… no matter how much I lost… I’d never lose you…”

You never saw Overlord Husk cry before. Such a prideful man surely couldn’t cry. But as he rests his chin atop your head, you can hear his breathing start to hitch.

“I’m sorry…”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you assure him as you nuzzle his neck, just the way he loved all those years ago. A purr assures you that it hasn’t changed.

“If I knew that day… that when I left, I wouldn’t be coming back… I would have stayed in just a little longer.” He rests his claw on your chin and tilts it up to look in your eyes. Now you can clearly see the tears pricking the corners of his own. “Would have at least kissed you goodbye…”

“You did kiss me goodbye,” you say. “That night, before we went to sleep, the last thing you did was kiss me…”

“...and I promised I’d be back,” he finishes. “I kissed you goodbye for a day. Not a decade.” His claws run down your face, just as gentle as ever. “Could I… do that now?”

“Don’t kiss me goodbye,” you say. “Just kiss me.”

He grants your wish, lightly placing his lips against yours. He finally lets his tears fall, but the way they stain your cheeks doesn’t make you pull away. If anything, they’re just another reminder for you that he’s here, along with his warmth in your arms and the sound of his soft moans vibrating against your lips as he keeps kissing you.

“Charlie…” you murmur. “Charlie’s waiting for us-”

“She’s patient,” he repeats as he pushes you down to the bed. “I’m sure she’ll understand me wanting some quiet time with an old friend.” He offers no further argument before resuming his kisses, and you have no further reason to protest.

“I love you, Husk,” you manage to whisper between kisses.

“I love you too, doll. Always have.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #hazbin husk x reader #irk blubbers about nothing #irk got asked a thing #irk talks to strangers #irk huskposts

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bisexualhummingbird · 4 months

Text

Walburga Black didn't like her kids.

She tried really hard in the beginning, tried to feel something when she first held them in her arms, tried to adore the sounds of their first laughs, she tried to feel proud when they took their first steps. She tried to love them, not because she wanted to, but because she knew she was supposed to, instead all she could feel was a deep resentment. Sometimes she felt guilty about it, she truly tried her best to feel some degree of mother instinct but eventually gave up.

Walburga never truly wanted to be a mother or a wife.

She was always an ambitious person, she didn't have to beg the sorting hat to put her in Slytherin, she wanted to continue her family's legacy more than anything and the only way to do it was to marry the right man and start a family with him, her duty was to raise children while her future husband made his name in the wizarding world, she knew the only thing she had to do was prepare a male heir to continue what her husband would start; but when she was alone and could allow herself to fantasize she closed her eyes and she pictured a seat in the Wizengamot with her name on it, what she really wanted was to be someone, she craved to have influence in the wizarding world beyond her last name and knew the potential to make the Black family even more relevant than it already was laid inside of her.

In her fantasies she didn't have to suppress her political ambitions, she could be powerful and could dream of climbing her way up to the International Confederation of Wizards; instead, she was condemned to sit and watch her husband attempt to do everything she knew she could do better if she ever had the chance.

But that wasn't her place, those fantasies had to be kept a secret, she had a duty as her father's oldest daughter.

Walburga never liked Orion.

Her second cousin was five years older than her, he was a drunk who developed gambling habits the moment he turned seventeen, he frequented brothels and slept around with women even though he was engaged to Astrid Greengrass. He did things that should be considered an embarrassment to the family's name and yet everyone seemed okay turning a blind eye as long as it was kept a secret, after all he was the oldest male of all the cousins and the heir to the Black fortune. Walburga always understood that she couldn't even dream of doing half the things Orion did, disownment would be the most gentle punishment if she even dared to think about it.

Walburga was seventeen when Bahram Avery started courting her.

He was handsome, tall and smart, only a year older than her, a slytherin prefect and most importantly a pure-blood boy with the right values. They talked for the first time when she was in her sixth year and the more they engaged in conversations the more she could imagine a life with him. He was intelligent, well-spoken and one of the most beautiful boys at Hogwarts, with elegant features and a kind eyes, but none of those things were what made Walburga so drawn to him, it was the way he treated her like an equal. Her dreams and ambitions were unattainable, especially if she wanted to make her family proud, but if she had to resign herself to be nothing more than a wife maybe she wouldn't mind playing that role for Bahram.

Romanticizing the idea of being his wife wasn't difficult, he listened to her, never dismissed her thoughts and ideas or patronized her the way her family did; he recognized her as the powerful witch she was. The summer after his graduation he showed up to her house and asked her father for permission to start courting her, Pollux and Irma were pleased.

They continued to exchange letters through Walburga's seventh year, she felt relieved for being so close to fulfill her parents' expectations.

Walburga had just graduated when Orion ruined everything.

The news of Astrid Greengrass ending the engagement wasn't well received by her aunt and uncle. Rumors of Orion's lack of commitment and irresponsible spending habits reached the Greengrass family, who were kind enough to quietly inform Arcturus and Melania Black of their daughter's decision to not move forward with the wedding to save them at least a little from the embarrassment breaking off an engagement implied in the pure-blood society. Mistresses weren't uncommon within pure-blood men but her cousin had been reckless enough to get caught, even the privileges of being the male heir had their limits in the Black family. Orion's carelessness was met with harsh disapproval.

Walburga felt like her world collapsed when her parents informed her she was expected to reject Bahram.

She didn't understand why, Bahram was the perfect candidate for a husband, he met every single requirement the future head of a pure-blood family should have.

Deep down, Walburga knew Bahram was the only man she could ever grow to love and she knew he was her only hope of being close to a happy life, a small part of her wanted to go against her parents wishes but her instinct to please them was stronger, it wouldn't matter how much she begged or cried, her parents gave no explanations and she was too scared of the consequences of asking why.

A few days later she sent a letter to Bahram saying goodbye to her only chance of a happy life. Most nights, the what ifs haunted her sleep.

She tried her best to forget about him, after all her parents always knew better.

Walburga felt like throwing up when she heard the news.

She heard her parents talk about Orion's recklessness almost every day, her uncle Arcturus wasn't going to allow his heir to ruin the future of the family and she understood that in order to put an end to the talk about his failed engagement he had to get married as soon as possible, she just never thought she would be the unfortunate woman who would be doomed to be his wife.

Pollux and Irma didn't have the decency to even warn her before the engagement was announced at a dinner party, so after Arcturus stood in front of the guests and the words came out of his mouth sentencing her to a lifetime of misery, time started to move slow. It was all calculated, letting her find out at the same time as the rest of their family and friends, she didn't have a way out, she didn't have a chance to beg her parents to change their mind, her future was set in stone. Orion didn't even attempt to hide the look of disgust on his face for the rest of the evening.

"I hope you understand this arrangement is what's best for the family" Her mother said to her once the guests left.

Walburga resented her children.

Sirius and Regulus looked a lot like Orion. While Walburga was a prisoner in Grimmauld Place, condemned to be something she never wanted to be, watching her husband live the dreams she once had while she pretended she didn't notice he smelled like another woman's perfume and dealt with his drunken outbursts like a good pure-blood wife would, the little faces of her sons were a constant reminder of the man who made her life miserable, she couldn't even escape him when he was away and maybe that was the reason she didn't feel much guilt when she lashed out at them, deep down she knew it was wrong but seeing their resemblance with Orion made it easier for her to justify herself, after all, she was just trying to fulfill her duty to raise strong pure-blood wizards like she was supposed to, she was sure some day her sons would understand just like she did.

---------------------------------------------

A few things:

1) English isn't my first language and i tried my best, i'm sorry if there's any mistakes.

2) I hate Walburga Black, she was an abusive piece of sh1t and a pure blood supremacist, i'm not trying to justify her, i just wanted to give her a story.

3) I know Orion is supposed to be younger than her but after researching their ages and their parents ages i realized it doesn't make any sense and decided to do what i wanted and him being older makes more sense in my story.

#harry potter #marauders #sirius black #regulus black #walburga black #the black family #orion black #the noble and most ancient house of black #marauders era #wizarding world #hogwarts

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petrova121 · 2 months

Text

Leave your worries at the door….please and thank you!

“Be careful”

-Part 1 -Part 2

TW-violence, threats, smut, fights, blood,etc

Song-Back to black by Amy Winehouse

Enemies to lovers

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁

- Klaus needs help getting a witch on his side for the purpose of wolfsbane, which was running low. The best idea coming into mind bringing along Elijah as ... .a form of reinforcement.but things do always take there turns

-Hey guys just a btw I’m still new to all this stuff so bear with me!

At least to say she did not sleep well that night, the rain was pounding. Her dressing room walls for a matter of fact weren’t helping. The cheap wooden material the walls were made out of was sure to break sooner or later, she was sure of it. “God damn Mikaelsons” she muttered tired and her eyes fell into a dump slumber.

In the little makeshift club, Klaus played poker with the owner, his old friend Smith. Smith had known Klaus back in the late 30s, after Klaus had turned him, taking pity on the old man in the state he was in. “So back to cause trouble eh?”Smith said putting down his cards to show a full house a full house. Klaus laughed a little, “No, no ... .well maybe but I’ll be forward with you, I am in dire need of more information about your little witch sensation Y/n” Klaus said still acting to consider putting his cards down. Smith smirked, he was sure he had won the game when he saw Klaus hesitate, he did win, Klaus had two cards and lost.

“Well, what about her? She's a show-stopping natural who gets my money flowing in” Smith said shrugging and glancing over to Elijah who was watching the storm outside from the small window but still intently listening.

“How did she end up working here? To what degree is her power as a witch? Most importantly how are we to trust she has a good flow ... .of wolfsbane” Elijah said his voice carrying out through the dimly lit room. Smith scoffed, in his mind, Y/n was nothing more than a girl who had a few connections and could do a couple of tricks with her magic but he did enough a lot about her past.

“Where to start, she left home when she high school finished early and didn't want a part of her father's life anymore even though she loved him, her father was a hunter. hunted vampires, werewolves, and even witches he deemed a threat. Her father had this moral code, or more like a stick up his ass” Smith said, grabbing a couple more hundred and throwing them on the table. “I think you two would get along Elijah,” Klaus said smirking, digging in his wallet for more to gamble on. He could always get more anyway. Elijah internally gave the biggest eye roll. “As for Y/n she had a knack for dancing and singing I let her join. Well for her dear father his moral code got him much respect, you would know a lot about that noble ass but...unlike you, he wasn't immortal. Unfortunately, he met his match. That was for sure the man well ... had a bloody end and I mean that in every way possible.” Smith said, shaking his head, his eyes full of pity. “That young woman, the witch you are currently preying on, was left with a very broken heart, her father was everything to her and he left her with everything. The house, the weapons he left behind, and loads of vervain and wolfsbane. But I suppose you could say she also has a sense of moral code drawn from fear. She stays away from all these things related to the supernatural world afraid she will meet the same end as her father. As for her power, she isn't the most skilled and does know a few things here and there to make sure she's safe ”Smith said and put down another full house beating Klaus again. A wide grin went across the old man's face, he loved winning. “There's more to the story but I wouldn't know she doesn't talk as much as I am making her to be,” Smith said, grabbing the cash he won, and stuffing it into a jar. Klaus didn’t care much about her backstory or the fact he lost about a thousand dollars to this stingy man. he needed to know her weak points and he could later on use her father against her Klaus hoped.

Elijah listened to the revelation, a flicker of pity went across his face for the woman, it outshined his annoyance a bit.Although Elijah knew that his brother would use this against her, he knew it was necessary. “How long since the man’s death?” Elijah asked, turning to look at both of them. Smith thought about it for a second tapping a finger to his chin. “6 years ago” Smith said, getting his cane. Fair enough time for her to process it, but yet again everyone was different Elijah thought. It wasn't enough to truly feel bad for her though, she was just another witch, right?

The next few days Y/n was on edge and didn’t know how she was going to get back home. Her fears were too strong to go alone. She couldn’t do it; she needed someone but everyone she called was picking up so she resorted to asking her boss, Smith. Back years ago he had helped intentionally to pack up some things and he wasn't the best person ever but she could deal with it she told herself. After the performance, she went to his back office. Which smells worse than the place itself. He was sitting counting the money he made from that night putting it in 15 different piles for the 15 different performers. “What” he said, his voice gruff.

“I’m assuming that hybrid tyrant came and spoke with you,” She said. She entered the room fully and closed the door. “He did, what about it?” Smith said, his eyes not once daring to get a glance up. “I need to ask a favor. I need someone to go up with me to my father's old estate, I can't go alone, I was praying that you could,” She said. There was a shear of uncertainty in her voice, she could almost feel the no coming out of his mouth.

“Not a chance,” He said, annoyed. “I don't have time and with you going on leave for a week I need to find someone to replace your ass, you think I'm just up and available just cause a vampire is threatening your life? Get.in.line his presence is threatening everyone” Smith said annoyed and maybe even pissed off. She frowned, she knew he was a rude old man, what more could she expect? “Then who the hell am I to ask?” she said

“Not my problem”

“It is your problem because he isn't just going to kill me he's going to kill you too if he realizes you didn’t help me” She spat back at him.

He finally looked up, he looked lifeless in his eyes. She could tell his jaw was clenching.

“Fine” he gritted out.“Talk to his brother, the noble guy”

An even bigger frown grew on her face. Elijah, she didn’t like him and she sure as hell if she had any other choice was going to spend a total of 7 hours back and forth from her dad's house. Maybe she hated his power, maybe his stupidly attractive face but it didn't matter.

She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding after a long moment of silence

“Where can I find him?” she asked.

“You familiar with the French Quarter?” he asked, leaning back in his seat. “Great,” she thought to herself. This family was more of a pain in her ass than she could think, from where the club was it was a good 20-minute drive. “Yes,” she said annoyed

“There's a bar right across from it, you’ll catch him there around 7..and if you're lucky, maybe even 6:30!” he said with fake enthusiasm, and then within seconds a huge frown

“Get out!”

She left and slammed his door shut with anger. The next following days she was now packing her bags and getting ready to confront the man who had his head way too far up his ass. “Where are you heading off to?” Rory said. She was leaning on Y/n’s door frame as she caught her packing up.

“What's it to you?” she said

“Well, you seemed mad when you left Smith's office the other day can’t help but think, are you finally fired?” Rory asked, a big smirk plastered on her face. Y/n was annoyed, of course, Rory wanted her fired, and then her competition would be gone. “Never knew you were this greedy Rory, and here I thought you just suck off the audience for more cash and I mean that in every SENSE,” Y/n said getting her last bag and turning around with a neutral face

“Whatever you say, your time is running up and I'm not the only one who knows that,” Rory said, her smirk not flattering. It was clear that Rory knew something that she didn’t. Was Y/n going to get fired? Did she hear the Mikaelsons talking to her? All questions that Y/n quickly kicked out of her head. She had one goal right now, it was not to entertain Rory and her endless shenanigans.

══════════

After basically speeding her way through the streets she made it back to the heart of New Orleans. She quickly parked and got out rushing to make sure she wouldn’t miss the original. Like Smith said he was in a corner drinking some fancy drink. Elijah had seen her before she even walked in. He was curious to see what she wanted. “Well Mr.Mikaelson unfortunately we have to meet again,” She said sitting across from him. “What do I owe for pleasure?” He said putting the drink down, licking his lips slightly from the remains of the liquor. “Your brother is desperate for Wolfsbane right or did I miss it when my life was threatened?” she said, clamping her hands together. She was giving him a pointed look which amused him further.

“Well yes, he is, now why are you here? I am going to make this clear. I am not one for negotiations, miss Y/l/n” Elijah said, his voice firm. Elijah stared right at her. He didn’t like how unreliable she was being at the moment, and it was causing him to think twice about why he even gave her his word. He also couldn't ignore the fact he would talk about bargaining with her for how undeniably gorgeous she looked at the moment. “I’m here to ask if you will come with me to my house,” She said getting to the point. She was already pretty nervous about it but put on a brave face. Elijah smirked, finding his entryway into a little teasing and fun.

“So straight forward” Elijah teased. Y/n realized what he was insinuating and got annoyed, like very annoyed. It was shown all over her face. Of course this man of cocky enough to assume that.

“No, I don't want you 6 feet near me or my bed if I had a choice by “my house ". I mean my dad's old home, that's where the wolfsbane is and I can't go alone. Let's just say my dad had a lot of enemies that didn’t like him and naturally they don't like me.” She explained to him lying through her teeth. Her dad probably killed every single enemy he had before he met his fate.

“Bold of you to assume what's what I meant,” Elijah said, the smirk growing wider.

“But I do have to ask why me? Don’t you have someone else?” Elijah asked, and this time he was sincere about it. He knew she was lying but decided not to tell her yet. He wanted to see how this would play out but from her point of view, it still looked like by his face he was playing with her. She couldn’t decide between smacking him or kissing him, out of anger.

“Because I have no one else I can trust at this moment and let's just say the person I did go to gave me what he says is a wake-up call,” She said and sighed “Will you do it or not?” She asked. Elijah looked at her, in his mind he was thinking of all the ways this little witch could surely stab him in the back, and take advantage of the situation but on the other hand, he could do the same to her. “How far is the drive?” he asked, tapping his finger on the glass.

“7 hours back and forth,” she said. Not too bad” Elijah thought, though the car ride could go two ways. She could be a pain in the ass or just quiet. He was hoping for quiet. “Well, I suppose I can dwell on it, how about this if I decide to go with you I'll be here tomorrow at 6 in the morning waiting outside this very bar. ” He said, leaning in his chair. "What do you mean to dwell on it?" she asked. "I mean think about it, it might not have occurred to you but I have responsibilities waiting for me, and the person that needs my most protection at the moment," Elijah said, he hadn't forgotten about Hayley for a moment. "Ohh, I get it you're looking after that girl who's carrying the miracle baby," Y/n said it all coming together. "Why? she's not your responsibility."She said, now crossing her arms. Elijah's eyes narrowed slightly. "She is, I made it my duty," Elijah said, getting another sip of the drink. "Why are-" she cut herself off. She didn't want to know why, she didn't need to know either. "Fine, think about it if you will," she said, slightly mocking his accent and getting up. He then did the same and straightened his cuffs to the suit. She got up to leave and he grabbed her wrist right before. “Do let me make one thing clear with you, I am being very cooperative at the moment. I wouldn’t see this type of mercy from my brother. I do encourage you not to try playing any games with me when it comes to well-being if I do go on this little trip of yours because it won’t be good for you” Elijah warned stepping closer to her. Her heart was starting to pound. “I can’t even put a scratch on you. How stupid do you think I am?” she asked in a hushed tone. She could see a few eyes from the bar staring at them. “You’d be amazed at how many idiots walk this earth,” Elijah said smugly. He let go of her, letting her get her bag.

“6 AM, I won't be late. I hope you do show up,” she gritted through her teeth. turning around and walking away out of the bar. Elijah got up and followed her. It felt like freedom when she took in the fresh cold air outside. Until she realized he was behind her. “And I am most certain we will meet again” Elijah said behind her and when she turned to look he was gone. She cursed under her breath and walked off.

“Be careful” she could hear whispering as she was walking but no one was there. She knew it wasn’t Elijah, it was those goddamn ancestors

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autisticandroids · 2 months

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Yeah re: soulless Sam I was always interested and a bit troubled by the way s6 handled it where like they presented soulless sam as the primary issue/threat yet I found deans controllingness and dislike towards soulless sam equally if not more threatening. Like it felt like soulless sam was Not The Problem- dean reacting very poorly to a sam he could neither control nor understand was the issue. Would you have handled it differently than the show and if so, how?

so i think this ask is a response to this post.

yeah i mean this is something that really bugs me in the show. so first of all, the writers don't really have a handle on what it means to be soulless - they never do, throughout the whole show.

this is firstly because the concept of soullessness is cribbed wholesale from buffy, where it is ALSO stupid and makes no sense. but in spn, it's worse, because spn already has its own interpretation of buffy's vampires - you can draw a pretty one to one line between how buffy uses vampires and how spn uses demons. except that demons are one of the things that spn actually does better than buffy - instead of being inherently evil in a way that's justified by nature, demons have two things going on. first, they are soldiers in an army - they have a reason to be evil and it's that that's what they're ordered to be. second, the difference between a demon and a human is that the demon has gone through centuries or millennia of torture to turn them into a new person. which is like... a comprehensible difference. the reason that all demons love violence and constantly commit it is a result of being intentionally shaped into being that way by the other demons who tortured them, who were also tortured in their turn, on and on all the way back to lucifer. this is to me more compelling and makes more narrative sense than "vampires don't have souls and so therefore they're inherently evil (so we can have lots of cool scenes of buffy killing them and not worry about it)."

so the concept of soulless sam is basically "hey let's crib one of buffy's stupidest worldbuilding elements for a second time, but this time we won't iterate on it until it's good." bad, broadly, i would say.

man. 3.5k words. the rest goes under a cut.

secondly i would say that the individual writers have totally different ideas about what a "soulless sam" should look like. this is partly just stupidity i think - ben edlund's* idea of what soulless sam is isn't that different from brett matthews', they both write him as an unemotional pragmatist who doesn't actually have bad intent. it's just that matthews is a bad writer, and he's also taking the directive from the top that sam should be "evil," which edlund clearly isn't listening to. whereas for example dabb and lofflin are writing soulless sam as an active monster. same with gamble i would say, though that's less clear cut.

now, there are people reading this right now who think that i'm about to say "we should throw out soulless sam" but i actually don't agree with that. i LIKE elements of soulless sam. i think at his best he makes a really great foil for like... where dean is at in season six. i think that his, like, existence is a great torture for dean, partly because he's such a fabulous foil. and frankly, i also think jared padalecki seems like he's having an absolute ball playing a cheerful bastard, and it makes soulless sam absolutely magnetic to watch. oh before you read any further you should probably read this post, it's really good.

anyway i'm going to take three episodes and compare them. we're gonna look at live free or twihard, clap your hands if you believe, and caged heat.

i'm also gonna talk a little about later handlings of soullessness.

but first i'm gonna say that the concept of soulless sam as "evil sam" is dumb. if he's evil sam then... do something else to him. but the premise of soulless sam is just that he lacks emotion and lacking emotion is not like.... Becoming Evil. that's so stupid it's unreal. and it doesn't lead to an interesting idea of the character of soulless sam!!! there's nothing to do with that except Bad Guy!!!!! stupid.

anyway, between twihard, clap your hands, and caged heat, i would say twihard is absolutely my least favorite, clap your hands is my most favorite, and caged heat is somewhere in the middle, at least in terms of handlings of soulless sam specifically.

so in twihard, sam lets dean get turned by a vampire. it's not malicious, he just wants to test the vampire cure on him. this is so fucking stupid it's unreal. brett matthews is going for "unfeeling pragmatist" here but he also clearly wrote backwards from the idea of sam as the antagonist who got dean turned. it makes very little sense for sam to have done this, it's not unfeelingly pragmatic, it's silly, and it exists purely to manufacture soulless-sam-as-antagonist. dumb and bad.

vs. clap your hands, where soulless sam isn't an antagonist. he's a foil, and he makes dean very upset, but he mostly acts both reasonably and in concert with dean. he's just offputting. like, dean gets abducted, and then sam does his best to get him back, but when he can't work anymore, he cheerfully has sex with the hippie girl. that is, genuinely, offputting to the point of a little disturbing. it very successfully shows us a man who is not feeling things the way most people do. but it's not evil. it's just weird. and it's really successful as a foil to dean's "feelings are king" shtick.

vs. caged heat, which has a little bit of both. i'm mostly going to look at the first scene with meg, which has both my favorite and least favorite moment.

my favorite moment is this:

SAM laughs. DEAN: Something funny, Sam? SAM: Yeah, Meg. DEAN: Really? ’Cause where I’m sitting… SAM: Don’t worry. She can’t do jack squat. She’s totally screwed. DEAN: Sam, not helping! SAM: Look at her, Dean. She’s furious. If she could kill you, she’d’ve done it by now. She’s running. MEG: Am I? SAM: Judging by the level of flop sweat on all of you, yeah. Which means you’re running from Crowley. Which makes sense. Crowley would want to hunt down all the Lucifer loyalists now that he’s the big man on campus.

so what's happening here is that dean is being very genuinely menaced. by meg. like he's in maybe some serious danger. and sam has been trying to protect him by talking to meg. but sam is also totally calm. because he doesn't care. he doesn't want meg to rape dean, to cut him up, to kill him. but he's not scared, and he's not empathizing with dean's fear, even though he knows it exists. in fact this fact allows him to notice that meg is scared, that she can't actually cut dean up. her threats are empty. i think this is a great use of soulless sam because, again, it's offputting, and it's obviously callous. dean would be totally within his rights to be pissed about this, like sam is out of pocket here. but he's not really doing anything bad.

and now my least favorite part: literally the next two lines.

MEG: How would you know? SAM: It’s what I’d do.

STUPID. STUPID STUPID STUPID. ooooooooooooh sam is soooooooooo evil he can obviously perfectly predict crowley DUMBBBBBBB. STUPID DUMB. sorry i get so mad when i hear this line. genuinely i kind of love caged heat there's a reason it's one of my most-watched eps but this line makes me SO mad.

like this is so clearly a finger on the scale to make him seem evil. it makes zero sense and is just... making the scene unwatchable.

for better ideas about soullessness, i actually think we should look to season eleven. in season six and season fourteen with soulless sam and soulless jack, things are kind of a clusterfuck. i talked about soulless jack here in preparation for making this post, but suffice to say that the soulless jack arc was even messier than the soulless sam arc - primarily because being soulless simply did not affect jack's characterization that much. the opposite problem to sam, who got his characterization fucked so he could say "muahaha look how evil i am" occasionally.

but in season eleven none of the main characters are soulless, so there's no need for a soulless person to be an "evil version" of a main character. instead, the soulless are amara's victims. they constitute problems, but are primarily indicative of a larger problem.

this is how the episode "thin lizzie" exists. that's my favorite soulless episode, because it tries to actually take seriously what having "no emotions" would mean for its characters. so you have soullessness as tragedy and as heroic trait. because len can no longer experience joy or fear, his life is empty, but he is also fearless and has nothing to lose.

or another interesting idea of soullessness is. deep sigh. jack in the box. because jack's emptiness leads him to be unable to understand the emotions of others, and therefore to be easily tricked because he can't empathize well enough to predict that salmondean are obviously lying to him.

both of these are concepts of "emotionlessness" that don't revolve around "you become an evil genius." which is just.... it's stupid. it's dumb.

anyway all this to say that a more coherent concept of soulless sam primarily modeled on clap your hands if you believe would really improve season six. for me.

anyway that's NOT really answering your question All That was like a prologue to answering your question which was actually about the character drama. anyway the thing about dean in season six is that i really like him. he's my special guy. he's melting down like a reactor core every moment of every day.

and soulless sam is perfect for this because he's making it so much worse.

the thing about dean is that he has just had one of the worst(?) years of his life. first of all sam was dead. for a year. sam was DEAD for a YEAR. dean winchester, noted soul seller, noted enmeshment enthusiast, noted identity lacker, his sam was DEAD!!!!!!! FOR A YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!! i don't think people recognize how crazy it is that sam was dead for a year.

this is like the most important thing. but also: dean tried out being Normal. and he HATED it.

the thing about dean is that he doesn't really think normies are people. he thinks they're cardboard cutouts. sitcom characters. he thinks their life has laugh track and they stop existing when the camera stops rolling.

and dean desperately craves this. he wants it so bad. except then he tries it and. and he still exists. he still has to wake up every morning and put one foot in front of the other. still has to go to sleep and dream of alastair. every excruciating moment of "being dean winchester" still happens and he's still experiencing them. and that's the worst case scenario for dean: he doesn't want to exist. he doesn't want to experience "being dean winchester" because it's awful. being dean winchester is nothing but pain. but becoming a normie didn't actually make "being dean winchester" stop happening to him. he's still suffering. except now.... now his last comfort, the idea that maybe someday he could have a normal life and stop "being dean winchester" for good? that's gone. there's no hope. he's this or he's dead.

like, i made a joke about dean's breakdown in unity being kind of about this, dean being desperately hopeful that killing chuck will make "being dean winchester" stop happening to him. like dean's most desperate wish for his whole life has been to stop existing, in some way or another, death or identity destruction or mindlessness. and to take hope of that away, to ruin his chance to not exist anymore... well, that's going to have an impact. that's a big part of what's going on with dean in season six.

and then there's the less world-endingly tragic element that he just... doesn't like being a normie. this is imo mostly just because he set himself up to fail. lisa is a stranger, she's very nice but she's basically just an idea to him when he moves in with her. it's not clear if they even like each other. he throws himself into this concept role of the Normal White Picket Fence Guy without asking himself if he enjoys any part of it. he keeps drinking - he was on fifty drinks a week in season five and even if he cut that way down, like in half or something, that's still potentially "at least impaired most of the time" levels of alcoholism. and again, sam is dead, but also dean cut himself off from everyone else he knows. he cut off bobby, most relevantly, but also cas, and he's certainly cut off any other hunting-related contacts given that he cut off bobby. he's totally stripped himself of his support network. he doesn't even let himself drive his fucking car. and then of course there's the fact that no matter how traumatizing and horrible hunting was, there were things about it that he was used to and would likely have missed. he didn't have to work a nine-to-five. he could go wherever he wanted. he in general had a kind of freedom that most people don't, even if it was more the "me and bobby mcgee" sort than anything else. and of course: hunting is exciting. it kept him stimulated. with nothing keeping him on his toes, the horror and trauma of the last twenty eight years of his life can hit full force. all he can do is wallow in it. there's no new horror to keep him focused. and also he's just..... used to living an exciting life. i'm sure that he finds normality just, deeply understimulating. which is its own sort of horror.

and in his mind there are only two options for him: be normal, in exactly the way he tried with lisa, or be a hunter, in exactly the way he always has. so when he realizes that being normal in that way is awful.... well. he settles in. this is another way in which his year with lisa strips him of hope for the future: he can no longer imagine any life other than his current one, because the one other option he thought he had turned out to kind of suck.

and then. i've said this before. but oh my god. everyone LIED to dean about sam being back!!!!! for a YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! they lied to him for a YEAR! he grieved sam for a YEAR! and NO ONE told him. dean is surrounded by people who have betrayed him in this horrible way! everyone he loves INCLUDING SAM participated in this betrayal! wouldn't that make you crazy? wouldn't that make you insane? to live a year of life-destroying grief and then find out that that was basically orchestrated by the people you love most? no matter how good their reasons?

and then of course... of course there's the fact that sam is back. sam is back and he's... real. he exists in the world. he's not dean's sainted sammy who exists in his mind, dead and glorified. he's a real person who does things and makes choices. and that's... that's hard. this is once again fantasy bumping up against reality for dean. his relationship to sam has always been tortured but of course while grieving sam, sam exists only in his mind. and part of the problem is obviously that sam came back wrong but also, it's just that absence makes the heart grow fonder. even if sam hadn't been soulless dean just can't really cope with like. conflict in a way that doesn't make him crazy. and of course once again i must remind you that SAM LIED. SAM LIED TO DEAN ABOUT BEING ALIVE. FOR A YEAR. WHICH IS PRIMING DEAN FOR SOME FUCKING CONFLICT.

so you have all of this. and also when dean is like caaaaaaasssss come fix it for me cas is busy. and also dean's destructive anxiety over lisa and his resentment of her. and you put this all in a bottle and you shake it up. dean is NOT a happy camper. he's miserable and he just can't cope. but life keeps going on! things keep moving!

and i think soulless sam, as he is in clap your hands, is like this perfect foil for that. i wouldn't dream of getting rid of him.

but the thing is. that's all in 6x01-6x10. killer stuff, but it is absolutely wrecked by what comes after.

i fucking hate appointment in samarra. it's just not a good episode. even though tessa and death are there!! i love tessa! i love death! can't save appointment in samarra though.

like first of all. dean kills himself in it and it's not even fun. dean just kills himself. you will never be advanced thanatology. but second of all...

okay lets talk about other times dean has saved/fixed sam in some way at least somewhat against his will. i'm going to use three examples: selling his soul, the panic room, and the gadreel thing. the first two, gamble was intimately involved with writing (she wrote crossroad blues AND ahbl 1 AND when the levee breaks! come on) and the other is clearly an intentional retread of appointment in samarra.

in ahbl 2, dean sells his soul because... well because he can't cope without sam. because he has no identity outside of sam. because familial duty is the reason he's alive. because he wants to die. because a moment of loneliness is more terrifying to dean than eternity in hell.

and in season nine dean is in a similar place. obviously he's not killing himself, and he also is less like, absolutely codependent with sam because he has more people in his life now, but he still would have no idea who he is without "look out for your little brother, boy." he still can't imagine a life without sam.

with the panic room, dean is angry at sam, he's absolutely punishing him, but he's still.... there's still duty, there. "at least he dies human" is horrific, but it carries within it some twisted attempt to justify dean's decision with sam's wellbeing. and dean is punishing sam for like, betraying him. dean is deeply hurt because he LOVES sam and he wanted to slide right back into their old life together but little sammy grew up while he wasn't looking, and also REPLACED HIM with that DEMON SLUT. like dean is angry because he WANTS HIS SAMMY BACK.

whereas in appointment in samarra... it honestly mostly just reads like dean thinks soulless sam is a problem he needs to solve. it feels like he would be happy with either outcome (sam going back to normal or Just Straight Up Dying) not because he wants to save sam in any meaningful way but because he wants to get RID of soulless sam. this is the dean who feels like he needs to take a rape shower because he took orders from another man.** he's just sort of lovelessly grasping for control. which i guess you could say is a reasonable direction to take his character, he certainly felt like he was out of control in the first half of the season (hell. just twihard alone is like a massive loss of control for him and has echoing ramifications) and clawing to get it back i guess makes sense. and of course the other times he "saved" sam were also about control of COURSE they were. even ahbl a little. but it's so loveless in appointment in samarra/like a virgin. it creates a dean who is just... hard to like. not because he behaves badly but in a way that makes it just.... hard to care about him.

you could probably easily fix this by adding a theme of nostalgia for the "real sam" integrated throughout the preceding episodes. or like, there's a perfect scene that exists in my heart where immediately after dean beats sam to a bloody pulp in you can't handle the truth, he scoops him up in his arms and rushes him to the hospital because he saw gray matter on the last punch. that creates a kind of tension within dean that makes the horrible things he does to sam more charmingly tragic and less plain awful, even though they remain horrible. you can create a perfect pear wiggler for dean where he behaves monstrously and yet it's all shot through with twisted love. that's something i love to see from dean. the first half of season nine does this fabulously. but as it stands it's not there with soulless sam, and i wish it was. especially when dean is trying to fix him.

just in general broadly i think dean's characterization in the back half of season six is just. a clusterfuck. it makes sense in 6x06 that dean doesn't care about the angel war because he's having his little freakout about sam and nothing matters to him except that. but in 6x19? 6x20? what's the deal? why do sam and dean decide cas is their enemy for trying to save them? it's not like they have a plan. they certainly accepted the angel civil war mattered at the end of 6x10. they just backstab cas for no reason. broadly, the character conflict in the back half of s6 is just fucked. in the front half it makes sense because dean is having one long irrational but understandable temper tantrum due to the horrors already outlined in this post. but in the back half it's just. nothing. to have a good soulless sam arc i think you would have to just throw out the back half. get sam re-ensouled a different way. not have the godstiel arc be Like That. it just needs to go a totally different way, because s6 is a mess afer caged heat.

*although edlund isn't exactly without sin here. mr. Being Soulless Makes You Fuck Good

**and the thing is caged heat is doing something with that in the sense that caged heat is about how dean IS sexually vulnerable, you just Can't Show It On Television. meg is dean's proxy but we are meant to understand that all that Could happen to dean. dean saying he needs to take a rape shower after taking orders is underestimating his own vulnerability to sexual violence. it's notable that brett matthews only wrote two episodes and the other one was twihard. but i digress.

#spn #asks #anonymous #rape tw

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heyiwrotesomethings · 1 year

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Oh!!! It's a good thing I was staying up late or else I might've missed this!! (Oh god this got a lil long, I'm so sorry ajdgskahd)

Using she/her, how about a kakegurui one where R(eader) is a relative of Yumeko's, maybe her sister (or cousin could work too), and it's like. Yumeko's the fun loving one, her canon sister I imagine is the calm one, and R is like the angry takes no shit from anyone type, and she's there to watch over Yumeko's trouble attracting ass to keep her inline, so to focus on that, she doesn't gamble (Yumeko does enough of that for both of them) but now that's making trouble turn to R instead in the form of an infuriating Kirari, R like back talks to her and would probably bite a hand that gets too close if she has to, and when Kirari in one (underhanded) way or another manages to corner R into a gambling match with some poor soul so Kirari can observe her, R shows that she's just as good and insane as her relatives (though calms down faster?) , aaaahh I don't know what else to add on or how to end this, can't think much this late so here you go!! I hope you have fun!!

The Jabami Blood Flows

Jabami Sister Reader, Yumeko Jabami and Kirari Momobami (Platonic)

A/N: Here it is! Sorry I didn’t really get into the gamble. I couldn’t make myself research exactly how craps works and I’m not smart enough to calculate any math or cheats. The canon gambling timeline might be a little messed up too because it’s been awhile… But I think I captured the spirit of what you were asking for. Thanks for reading! Word Count: 2,523

(Y/n) couldn’t remember what life was like when her parents were alive, nor could she really remember what her oldest sister Souko was like before Yumeko had to send her away to live in that special hospital. All she knew was that life as a Bami was eat or be eaten, take or be taken from, and she hated it.

When Yumeko told (Y/n) of her plans to transfer to Hyakkaou, she was dead set against her going. That was where she went to school, Momobami Kirari. The one who had a hand in their older sister’s decline in mental health along with their own aunt. However, nothing that she said to Yumeko could get her to change her mind. So (Y/n) did what any good and responsible sister would do and filled out her own transfer papers so she could tag along.

It was difficult keeping track of Yumeko when they were two years apart, especially when the middle school was in a separate wing of the sprawling building.

But after she had heard about Yumeko becoming a house pet within the first week, (Y/n) had nearly blown a gasket. In retaliation, she quickly sized up the casino disguised as a school and realized the students could do basically whatever they wanted. (Y/n) was disciplined, a diligent worker and good student, so she got all of her schoolwork ahead of time and did it at home so she could keep an eye on Yumeko throughout the day.

She allowed Yumeko to take part in the Debt Swapping Game to undo the damage she had done to herself and her “new friend” Saotome, but after that (Y/n) was all over her… not that her nagging was very affective, unfortunately.

“You’re so cute when you pout!” Yumeko gushed, squeezing (Y/n)’s cheeks.

(Y/n) grabbed her sister’s wrists and groaned, “Neesan, I’m serious! No more gambling! We have the money, pay off the debt so you can stop wearing that ridiculous tag!”

“Sweet little sister, always looking out for me. You don’t worry so much, okay? I want to keep this tag just for awhile longer.”

“Why? It makes no sense, people treat you worse than an animal!” (Y/n) only got more upset the longer this conversation dragged on, “Get rid of it!”

“I’m not going to do that,” Yumeko smiled, somehow so carefree, “it makes for some really interesting gambles!”

“You’re so stupid!” (Y/n) suddenly yelled, finally shocking the smile off of Yumeko’s face, replaced by mild surprise, “It’s like you want to end up like Oneesan, you want to leave me all alone!”

“(Y/n)—“ Yumeko reached out her hand to (Y/n) but she ran passed her and kept running until she found an empty classroom to cry in.

She couldn’t cry forever though, and soon fell into a quiet, simmering anger that began to boil the more she thought about how their lives had come to this.

“Momobami Kirari.” She hissed hatefully. She ruined Souko and was in the process of taking Yumeko away from her too. Well, (Y/n) wasn’t going to standby quietly.

She wiped her eyes and and stood up, tromping through the halls, she followed the signs until she came to the Student Council room and without bothering to knock, she pushed the door open with a loud thump, making the pair that resided within look up.

“You can’t just charge in here like that!” Sayaka was quick to reprimand.

But Kirari put up a hand, “Don’t be troubled, Sayaka. It’s just one of my dear little cousins paying me a visit. I’d recognize a Jabami anywhere. Care for tea, (Y/n)? I haven’t seen you since you were quite small, you’ve grown a lot.”

“Jabami…” Sayaka’s mood soured a bit more. One Jabami was already one snake too many.

“And you look very cute in the middle school uniform.” Kirari continued on, tilting her head towards Sayaka, “I remember your middle school days Sayaka, you looked very cute in that uniform too, although this one is nice as well.” She tugged on the hem of Sayaka’s jacket for emphasis.

“Thah- thank you, President.” And like that, Sayaka was subdued, but still a little wary of their impromptu guest.

“I don’t want your stupid tea, or small talk!” (Y/n) yelled. “I want you to get rid of the house pet system!”

“You can’t just storm in here and demand such a thing!” Sayaka bristled.

“Ah, is Yumeko refusing to pay off her debt?” Kirari sat back in her chair slightly, “Unfortunately for you, I’m not inclined to accept your request. Your sister is just too fun to watch.”

“I hate you!” (Y/n) seethed, Kirari’s eyes widened, but it was clear amusement rather than surprise at the outburst, “I hate what the Bami clan is under your rule! If it was someone else— if things could have been different— My parents would be alive, Souko wouldn’t be in the hospital and you wouldn’t be trying to take Yumeko from me right now! I hate gambling! I hate that when people gamble, they are risking the happiness of people they are supposed to care about too! I hate you for pitting everyone against each other all the time! You have the power to stop all this before we all destroy each other for good, but you don’t use it, and I despise you for it!”

“Oh my,” Kirari cupped her between her thumb and index fingers, “so much resentment for a girl so young. Are you sure you aren’t Saotome’s little sister?” She chuckled.

“This isn’t funny!”

“Is it not? I find it a bit amusing at least. For someone with Jabami blood flowing through her veins, you are very adamantly going against your nature. It’s interesting. You might be one to watch as well.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I think Yumemi has plans for your sister today. You might want to start making your way to the auditorium to cheer her on.” Kirari said instead, steepling her fingers in front of her coral blue lips.

A look of realization and then dread fell over (Y/n)’s face. She gave Kirari one more glare, then bolted from the student council room.

“What a rude girl!” Sayaka huffed. “Has she no respect for upperclassmen at all?”

“Easy Sayaka,” Kirari soothed with a teasing lilt, “I think my week just became a little more interesting.”

***

In the days after Yumeko’s admittedly unique gamble against Yumemi, (Y/n) had taken to giving her dear older sister the cold shoulder. It made Yumeko sad and pouty of course, but until she could promise (Y/n) that she was done gambling for good, (Y/n) refused to talk to her. She started going back to her classes like normal instead of following her sister around and did her best not to think about all the bad situations Yumeko could be putting herself through.

But she couldn’t ignore her sister for long, not when an unfamiliar upperclassman came to her classroom to summon her for a gamble. Apparently, Yumeko had got herself in a lot more trouble than (Y/n) had dared thought possible, or so the house pet had claimed.

“Where is she? Yumeko!” (Y/n) ran into the room, only turning around when she heard the door lock behind her. “Hey! What are you doing? Open the door!”

“That was a lot easier than I thought it would be.”

(Y/n) whipped her head to the back of the room to see a tired looking upperclassman, another house pet, sitting at a fancy craps table in front of a large mirror that almost took up the whole wall.

“I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this to get back at Jabami for what she and Saotome did to me at that damn debt swapping game. You’re her little sister, right? What am I saying, of course you are.”

“What do you want? Who are you?” (Y/n) asked defensively.

“Kiwatari Jun.” The upperclassman answered with a smirk, “And I’m gonna turn you into a house pet.”

“Like hell you are. You can’t force someone into a gamble unless they are part of the council. Unlock the door.” (Y/n) commanded, but Jun chuckled darkly.

“You’re right, I can’t make you do anything, but the door is locked from the outside, and I don’t have the key.”

“Then I guess we’re just stuck here forever until we die.” (Y/n) hotly retorted.

“Not the case,” he knocked on the mirror behind him. “See this, it’s a one way window. People can see us, but we can’t see them. Once we gamble, someone will come and let us out.”

“I’m not going to gamble you.”

“You will. Word is your sister is going on a gambling tear without you yapping in her ear. She’s got a real big gamble coming up today with that crazy Beautification Committee officer. You know, the one who likes swinging a gun around.”

“Yumeko already gambled her and was disappointed. She wants nothing to do with Ikishima now.” (Y/n) had really hated that gamble. It was exceedingly frightening. She was glad Yumeko had been put off by Midari’s recklessness in some shape.

“She came up with a new gamble that really has your sister going. Safe to say she’s giving her another chance. I don’t expect you to believe me, but is it really a risk your willing to take? If you aren’t there… you might not see her again.”

(Y/n)’s blood froze. She didn’t want to believe this guy, in fact, she was sure he was lying, but her fear of losing Yumeko was stronger than reason. Saving Yumeko was the only thing she could think of that was truly worth gambling for…

“What is the game?” She finally asked through gritted teeth.

“Craps,” he swept his arm over the table, “A simple dice game, what do you say?”

“I want to test the dice.”

Jun exhaled though his nose, “Not a gambler, huh? You sure seem to know what to look for.”

“When you grow up in the world that I have, you can’t help but pick up a thing or two.” (Y/n) sat down at the opposite side of the table, she could feel her heartbeat picking up like it would at the starting line of a race, or before reading a speech in class. She hated the feeling. She hated how her body loved the feeling. The excitement of doing something that felt totally crazy.

Despite not remembering her mother very well, she was definitely her daughter. That blood flowed through her veins as it did with Yumeko and Souko. A red glow briefly reflected off of her eyes.

“Are we doing this, or not?”

All of Jun’s little tricks were exposed round after round, but even if (Y/n) had let them slide, she was rolling perfectly every time, a skill she had picked up by merely watching Souko practice as a toddler, just a baby even. If she wasn’t so dead set against gambling, she could probably be making millions of yen a week. Her playing style reminded Jun more of Mary, but every once in awhile, she’d make an absolutely insane call that could only be something a Jabami would ever think to do.

It didn’t take long before all of the money the student council had leant him was on the other side of the table and with it, his dreams of freeing himself from his house pet chains. Now he was another four million yen in the hole.

“No… you’re just a snot-nosed middle schooler!” He hissed, pounding his fists against the table, making the dice and chips clink together. “I was supposed to win.”

“Idiot.” (Y/n) smirked, the red gleam appeared in her eyes once more, “Don’t you know nothing is guaranteed in gambling, nothing but disappointment for someone anyway.” She got up from her chair, not even caring to take her winnings with her. “A pity a had to lose my no gambling streak because of you. You weren’t even a challenge.”

She walked over to the door, pleased to see it was already opening in anticipation of her approach. She was a little surprised to see it was Sayaka who opened the door, however. She was even more surprised when Sayaka pulled her forward and a zapping noise met her ears, followed by a heavy object hitting the ground. She turned to see Jun curled up on the floor and saw the taser in Sayaka’s hand. He must have been coming up to attack her for humiliating him so badly.

“You never learn, do you, Kiwatari?” Sayaka tisked, “Lose with dignity for once.”

“Thank you for the show, Jabami (Y/n).” Kirari rounded the corner seconds later. She must have been watching from the other side of the glass. Suddenly this impromptu gamble was making a lot more sense. Jun didn’t seem smart enough to come up with a scheme like this himself.

“I should have paired you up with someone interesting, but I wanted to see what I was working with first. You did not disappoint. We will have to do something like this again soon.”

“No way,” (Y/n) could already feel herself coming down from the brief high of gambling a upperclassman into submission, “I’m not going to let you catch me in a position like this again. No way in hell! Yumeko isn’t even in trouble, is she?”

Kirari smiled, “No, she’s not. However, I’m sure I could make an offer or two you simply would not be able to refuse. Whether it’s to forbid your sister from gambling in this school again, ending the house pet system, dethroning me as student council president, or even as the head of the Bami clan, I’m sure we could work something out. I think it would be really exciting for us to gamble one day.”

(Y/n) hated the shiver of excitement that ran up her spine. There were a couple of options in that short list she wouldn’t mind seeing to fruition, yet she shook her head and bumped into Kirari as she passed her.

“Just stay away from me!”

“I’ll be seeing you around, (Y/n). Have a good rest of your day.” Kirari waved, watching (Y/n) stomp away with amusement.

***

“Oh, (Y/n)?” Yumeko was surprised that after days of the cold shoulder, (Y/n) had sought her out for a hug, but she was very happy for the suprise affection to say the least and instantly returned the embrace. “You’re being so sweet to me! What brought this on, I wonder?”

“Don’t gamble with Ikishima ever again, got it?” (Y/n) ordered, “And always make sure you have your phone on you so I can ask you what you’re up to, okay?”

“Okay, okay!” Yumeko giggled, “You don’t have to worry. That person you just mentioned is dead to me anyway.”

A strangled moan of Yumeko’s name could be heard in the distance, but no one acknowledged it.

“Hey,” Yumeko’s eyes lit up, “let’s go do something fun this weekend. Just you and me, anything you want, okay?”

A small smile worked its way onto (Y/n)’s lips and she nodded, hugging her sister tighter.

“Yeah!”

#kakegurui x reader #kakegurui oneshots #kkg x reader #kkg oneshots #requests #anonymous

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blues824 · 2 years

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hi!!! I just saw that your requests are open, could u do a hc with the obey me brothers and diavolo with a scarlet witch!reader👀? ty!!!

I did it more as a ‘Wanda Maximoff! Reader’ instead. WandaVision was great, though. Can we all agree? Loved the sit-com episodes, and the ending was spectacular.

Lucifer

He noticed how scared and disoriented you were when you first arrived at the Devildom. It was understandable to be terrified, but it was a fear that he’s familiar with. A fear that you were going to go through something similar to something that has happened before.

He tried his hardest to make you feel at-ease by trying to keep his temper and keeping order in the House of Lamentation. However, you seemed to just stay in your room until absolutely necessary. You had requested access to a TV and old sit-coms, and he granted it to try and get you to see that you didn’t need to guard yourself around him.

After a while, you would start to hang out more and more with everyone, but mostly him in his office. It was more quiet and peaceful there, so you felt safer. The only noise being soft conversations and pen writing. Lucifer loved these little moments between the two of you because he loved hearing your voice. It wasn’t just the Sokovian accent you had, but the things you had to say.

He remembers when you defended Beel and Luke and actually managed to defeat him. Your powers were unlike anything he’s ever seen, nor was the pure anger you had. In fact, since it was fueled by all the pain you’ve experienced and how your new ‘family’ turned against each other like your past ‘family’ had, it exceeded even Satan’s wrath.

Because of the sit-coms you loved watching so much, you had grown to want to settle down at some point and live a domestic life. After voicing your thoughts to your now-lover, he took a few moments to consider it. The dream seemed wonderful, especially with you by his side. He told you that one day he would make your dream a reality and to just be patient. What you didn’t know is that he would give you the whole world if you asked.

Mammon

When Lucifer first introduced the two of you, he saw that you were terrified. Understandable, considering they were all demons… but it still hurt. He wanted very much to fight against his older brother when he said that he was assigned to be your protector, but he didn’t. He actually wanted to be the one to protect you.

He wanted to let you know that you were safe with him, but you were always shut in your room with those cheesy sit-coms you love so much. Eventually he asked if you would want to watch some of them with him in his room, even going the extra mile and saying that you could sit on the opposite end of the couch. The night ended up with you falling asleep on him, though.

After that night, you got more comfortable with everyone. You started going out more, but you had to admit that you would rather stay in Mammon’s room with him while watching movies and shows. The second-oldest felt the same. There was no better feeling than having you cuddle with him on his couch as you both watched the characters interact with each other.

He remembers when Beel accidentally destroyed your room and you just fixed it with your powers as if it were nothing. He definitely confronted you about it and you explained how you got your powers through scientists running experiments on you with the Mind Stone. He changed the subject quickly and smoothly after seeing you starting to get upset about the topic.

One night, as you were both lying in his bed, you told him about your dream to settle down somewhere peaceful and just live life with him. He was very family-oriented, so this sounded amazing to him. He made a vow to you that he would work his hardest to pay back all his debt and quit gambling so that he could give you the life that you wanted. He has yet to break that vow.

Leviathan

When Lucifer first introduced the two of you, he noticed how you looked like a scared fawn in the midst of a pack of wolves. He felt bad, but he couldn’t do much about it. So he just waved and made his way back to his room.

He wants to get to know you more, but you’re both shut-ins who are kind of socially awkward (more him than you). One day, he gathers the courage and invites you to a binging hang-out. Since you both have different tastes in television entertainment, he would have you watch an anime that he likes and you have him watch a sit-com that you like. It ended really well, actually.

After that night, you were still wary of everyone… but you gravitated towards him. You often stuck close to Levi because you were more comfortable with him. It made him blush whenever you grabbed his hand and followed him somewhere, but he loved that you were his and his only.

He remembers when you passed the TSL quiz and he attacked you. You used your magic to attack right back. You were about to do your absolute worst when the other brothers got Levi and took him away to cool down. A few days later, he thought back on it and thought it was totally cool that you reminded him of the character he likes… the Red Sorcerer.

One night, as you were both watching another romance anime, you told him how you wished the characters could get together and live a domestic life in the end so that you had some sort of hope that you could do the same with him. Levi blushed a ton, but settling down with you seemed like a dream straight from the Celestial Realm.

Satan

When Lucifer introduced the two of you, he had to admit that you looked adorable even when you were scared out of your mind. He offered to show you around, but you quickly and insistently refused.

For the next few weeks, you have locked yourself in your room in your free time. You only came down for breakfast, school, and dinner. One day, Satan has enough and asks you if you would like to watch a popular mystery sit-com with him in the living room. He was very happy when you agreed and even made a bunch of snacks. You started the hangout by sitting far away from him, but eventually got close enough to fall asleep on him.

After that night, you looked to him for comfort. It gave him hope that he deserved love rather than hate. To see you accepting each and every one of his requests to hang out or go out with you without fail made him fall so easily for you.

He remembers the time where you used your magic to stop Lucifer from killing you, Beel, and Luke. No one knew that you had magic, so it came as a surprise to everyone. But this instance seemed personal, like you were defending the person who you held dearest and you had known for years. He was sad to hear later that you had gotten flashbacks of your own brother and how you weren’t there to protect him.

One night, as he was reading the ending of a romance novel that you two had been reading together, you told him that you wanted to live a life like the main characters in the book. Where through thick and thin they stuck together, bound by their never ending love for each other, and eventually getting married. Satan grabbed your left hand and pressed a kiss to your ring finger, silently telling you he would make that dream come true one day.

Asmodeus

When Lucifer introduces the two of you, he sees how you’re on the verge of tears because of how terrified you are. He whips out a pack of tissues (he is always prepared) and hands it to you so that you could wipe the tears from your beautiful eyes.

It saddens him whenever you shut yourself in your room. He often passes by and hears the sit-com you’re watching. He hears sobs, but decides that you need to be alone. He knows what it’s like, needing to be alone every once in a while to let out a few tears. Eventually, he gently asks if you would like to come over to his room so you could do skincare with each other while watching a sit-com he recently heard about. That night was calming for you, and you broke out of your shell a bit.

You became more open and let your walls weaken around everyone. However, you liked hanging out with Asmo the most because he actually made an effort to get close to you. He was your shoulder to cry on as you were his. You were with each other in your most vulnerable moments, and that makes people grow very close.

He remembers the time where Levi lost in the TSL competition and he went to attack you, but you stopped him with your magic and threw him across the room so that you could escape. Asmo made sure that you made it to his room so that you could hide until Levi calmed down. He took this as a chance to ask you why you never told them you had magic, and you explained that your powers came at a cost that those scientists made you pay.

One night, as you both lay cuddling in Asmo’s comfy bed, you were talking about the best dreams you both have had. When you tell him about your dream of living a domestic and quiet life, Asmo took a few seconds to actually consider it. A life with his darling Y/N? It sounded absolutely wonderful!

Beelzebub

When Lucifer introduces the two of you, he can’t help but worry about how scared you look. Sure, he was the biggest and tallest of the brothers, but he had a big heart and the personality of a friendly teddy bear.

He understands wanting to isolate yourself for the first few weeks, so he will bring you your food so that you don't have to go out of your comfort zone very often. On one of these door-dashings, he invites you to a night of snacks and a movie or show of your choice. It ended with you laying on top of him as you both slept through the last few episodes.

After a while, you became more social and friendly. Beel was glad to see you like this, but it made him even happier when you still clung to his side. To know that you felt comfortable and safe around him gave him happiness unlike anything else.

He remembers at one of his games where you were cheering the loudest. Not really, but he says that because he was only paying attention to you. You even used your magic to spell out a message in the air, saying GO, BEELZEBUB! It encouraged him to play even harder and even win the game.

On that night, while you were both cuddling in his bed, you told him about your dream to live a peaceful life, and settle down somewhere with your lover. He’s also very family-oriented, so this sounds like paradise to him. He is immediately on board, promising that he would be the best husband that he can be for you.

Belphegor

When you stumbled across him in the attic, he figured that you were just trying to get away from the chaos that usually is the House of Lamentation. He saw how scared and distressed you look, and originally wanted to take advantage of it.

However, after each visit, you both got closer and closer. You would come of your own accord, often with your laptop, so that you both could watch the sit-com that you had been watching. You snuck in some snacks so that you could enjoy them together.

The more this went on, the less he wanted to use you. He still wanted to get out of his current prison, but he wanted to do it for you rather than hurting you by making you think he was only getting close to you so that you could do him this favor. He was genuinely enjoying your company, and he didn’t want to disturb what was going on between the two of you.

Eventually, Lucifer caught the two of you hanging out. He was angry, but you used your magic to hold him in place and called the other brothers up. Belphie was angry as well because he thought you were magicless, but the others were able to hold him back before he attacked you. After the whole thing was sorted out, he realized that you were still wary of him.

A few nights later, you were both cuddling in bed. It was unusual considering a few days prior you had to speak to each other through an enchanted gate. You told him that during one of the hangouts where you fell asleep, you had a dream of living with him somewhere quiet. He had to admit that he loved that idea.

Diavolo

When you first appeared in the room, he went over to make sure that you were alright. You looked absolutely terrified, and he didn’t want any of the exchange students to feel like that. Was it perhaps his tall stature that was intimidating to you?

He would invite you over as much as he could/as much as Barbatos would allow, but he couldn’t help but feel like you were only accepting his invitations because he was the Prince of the Devildom. So he did something rather unconventional. He secretly invited you out to a quiet dinner and had you (jokingly) promise not to tell anyone. It was a lot of fun, actually, and it left the both of you catching your breath because you were laughing so hard.

He loved how you were slowly getting used to life in the Devildom. He always made sure you were comfortable and often invited you to stay at his castle for sleepovers. That led you to becoming closest with him (and Barbatos). He had to admit that it boosted his ego.

When Lucifer tries attacking you, Beel, and Luke, Diavolo finds you using your magic to hold the oldest brother in place. He stepped forward, placing you behind him, and told you that you would be alright. Afterwards, he was surprised to feel your arms wrap around his torso, but he absolutely loved it.

During one of your sleepovers (which was just you and him cuddling in his humongous bed), you told him your dream of living a domestic life with the one you love most, like what you see in sitcoms. Diavolo has torn feelings about this. While it sounds like pure bliss, he has responsibilities as the only child of the Demon Lord. Maybe one day you could come around and be his partner and rule with him?

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