#Gamblers Hall

[vintagelasvegas]

Silver Palace to Mermaid's, 1956-2016

Silver Palace (1956), 32 Fremont St, Las Vegas. The casino was built in place of the W. R. Thomas building and had six different casinos names over its 60 years, aka Carousel Club, Gambler's Hall of Fame, Sundance West, Sally Sally's, and Mermaid's.

Silver Palace ('56-'64)

'54-55: The casino is planned in ’54. The W.R. Thomas building on this corner is deemed unsafe by the city and demolished in Jan. ’55. The casino also takes the place of Silver Cafe, closed Jan. ’55 after being sold to the casino group by owners Sui Mong Fong and Kim Fong.

'56: Silver Palace premiere opening is 5/25/56, with grand opening 6/8/56. Spinning Wheel Corp is the owner with over 20 licensees. Earl Snyder, president. Zick & Sharp, architect; Lee Linton, interior design. The casino is modern, with the city’s first escalator, casino, restaurant, and slot machines designed to resemble medieval castles. Signs by Heath Sign Co of Los Angeles. The casino is open only six months, closed by IRS, Nov. 30.

'58: Silver Palace reopens, 5/20/58, operated by Marion Hicks and parters of the Thunderbird. The restaurant is Louigi's Broiler.

'59: Silver Palace and Louigi's Broiler closed 6/30/59.

'61: Silver Palace reopened by Myron Lewis, 5/5/61.

'63: Lewis remains property landlord as Melvin Axler group takes over Silver Palace business in Oct.

Carousel Club ('64-'74)

'64: Renamed Carousel Club in Aug; Whiskey A' Go-Go in the basement floor. Carousel Club closed 9/23/64.

'65: Carousel Club reopened by B. Mclaney group in Jun. Carou-Cellar discotheque in the basement in Jul. Building sign changed to “McLaney’s Carousel.”

'67: Carousel Club licensees change to Salvator A Rizzo, Robert Ayoub, Rocco Paravia in Apr. American Federation of Casino and Gaming Employees leader Tom Hanley accuses the casino of taking orders from hidden owners, prompting Gaming Board investigation; AFCGE pickets the club in Aug-Sep. Owners close on 11/19/67 citing IRS charges.

'68: YESCO sues Carousel owners for unpaid sign lease in Jul. Marty Kutzen as Marlee Inc. buys the club with a Teamsters loan, reopens 8/30/68. “McLaney’s” removed from the sign.

'69: Al Garbian buys Marlee Inc, Carousel Club.

'73: Deil Gustafson buys Marlee Inc., Carousel Club.

Gambler's Hall of Fame ('74-'76) Sundance West ('76-'79)

'74: Carousel’s name changed Gamblers Hall of Fame in summer; remodeled by architect Lee Linton, and Ad-Art designer Charles Barnard.

'76: Gambler’s Hall closed 2/4/76 after bankruptcy petition is filed against the casino by a lender. Al Sachs buys the casino out of bankruptcy in May. Sachs reopens as Sundance West, 7/1/76. Facade updated, signs by Ad-Art.

'78: Cosmo's Underground restaurant opened by Tony Calabrese in the lower level of the building.

'79: Sundance West sold to Herb Pastor, closes for remodeling in Dec. Facade updated, signs by Ad-Art.

Sassy Sally's ('80-'99) Mermaid's ('99-'16)

'80: Reopened as Sassy Sally's, 4/1/80. Sally was the name of Pastor's babysitter.

'94: Cosmo's Underground closes.

'99: Casino remodeled as Mermaid's.

'06: Pastor sells Mermaid's, along with Glitter Gulch and La Bayou, to son Steve Burnstine (Granite Gaming Group).

'16: Burnstine sells Mermaid's, along with Glitter Gulch and La Bayou, to Derek and Greg Stevens. The property was demolished in 2017.

Casino to Replace Oldest Building Erected Here. Review-Journal, 12/29/54; Songs May Open New Cafe. Review-Journal, 1/4/55; Appeals Group Told to Study Building Case. Review-Journal, 1/20/55; At Long Last. Review-Journal, 2/1/55; Silver Palace to Open Friday. Review-Journal, 5/24/56; Silver Palace Opens Doors on Fremont Street Friday. Review-Journal, 5/25/56; T-Men Close Silver Palace Doors. Review-Journal, 11/30/56; New Group Negotiates for Casino. RJ 7/1/59; Casino Center to Use Silver Palace for Meets. Review-Journal, 11/20/60; Carousel Padlocked by Owner. Review-Journal, 9/24/64; City Approves Carousel Licenses. Review-Journal, 4/6/67; Roy Vanett. Hidden Casino Owners Block Talks - Union. Review-Journal, 8/10/67; Gaming Pickets Hit LV Carousel. Review-Journal, 8/25/67; State Eyes LV Casino. Review-Journal, 9/26/67; Carousel Club Closes: IRS Demand Blamed. Review-Journal, 11/20/67; Carousel Wins Okay. Review-Journal, 8/30/68; Associated Press. Board OKs Nugget, Carousel stock sales. Review-Journal, 7/12/73; Garbian to be active in casino activities. Review-Journal, 12/27/74; Al Sachs hold keys to Gamblers Hall. Review-Journal, 5/3/76; Closed Down. Review-Journal, 12/7/79; Opening. Review-Journal, 3/9/80; Charles F. Barnard. The Magic Sign. ST Publications, '93.

[harmeu]

GUILT

(HSR MEN X READER) (ANGST)

(GN!READER) 

Synopsis: You and Sunday were dating but then you overhear him talking to those who work with him about how you’re just a pawn for his games.

SUNDAY:

Soft footsteps echoed as you walked through the halls of where your beloved boyfriend Sunday lived. Though a feeling of unknown dread crawled onto you as if warning you of something soon happening.

Click. Click. Click.

Your eyes lit up as you heard your boyfriend speaking to those who worked under him and you couldn't help but eavesdrop. The curiosity of how he acted when he wasn’t around you dwelling in your mind.

“It’s simple. I’m using them. They are just one step closer for me to get closer to my goals.” Sunday said with a calm smile, hands gently tracing his desk looking down at the men who were talking to him.

You were confused.

What were they talking about?

“Sir..are you sure? Aren’t they attached?”

“My so-called significant other is definitely attached. Though that benefits me. Much. More. Easier. To manipulate.”

You paled.

He was using you.

Tears bubbled up in your eyes and you held your hand to your mouth to stifle any noises of sadness that were threatening to come out.

Hitching and turning on your shoe you make a dash for it unaware that Sunday caught a glimpse through the slit of the door open with his eyes. His wings twitched in surprise and soon lowered as a disgusting feeling of shame hit him.

It was an oddity for Sunday.

“Oh dear.” He murmured out making his way out to find you.

Synopsis: Aventurine and you dated but when he bets you in a game everything goes downhill.

AVENTURINE:

You catch your boyfriend, the renowned gambler betting as usual. You told him his hobby wasn't good. But as if that would stop him. Eventually you gave up and just let him do what he wanted despite worry filling you each time he pushed a chip forward with his iconic trademark smirk. 

“Babe..” You murmur out unease written all over your face.

“Oh! Hey darling~ this man just won’t seem to give up..even after I basically drained his savings. He’s penniless and now putting bets on things he doesn't even own!” Aventurine chuckled, holding his head amused.

“Maybe you should stop? It's getting intense, no.?” You worriedly whisper out.

“Oh no no no sweetheart. Once you go in. You can’t come out.”

“Huh?” You fluster.

“In gambling! What were you thinking of?” His smirk grew and became more toothly as you spluttered but it soon died down as Aventurine noticed that the man he was gambling with was slowly earning his chips back.

“You pull up a tough fight.” Aventurine spoke and you just knew he was going to pull an impulsive move. 

“Seems my chips have vanished. What a shame. Yet I do not intend to lose. I bet..my darling sweetheart right here.” 

You flinched at his words staring at him with a ‘did you really just say that’’ look making Aventurine smack back into reality.

“Oh..doll wait I didn’t mea-”

He got cut off by you walking off.

Ping! New message!

(AVENTURINE HAS SENT $1,000,000)

Synopsis: Dating Dr. Ratio was nice. Though he puts more time with other matters, neglecting you.

DR RATIO:

You hadn’t seen your boyfriend Veritas in a while because of him either studying, working, teaching others, or doing something other than hanging out with you. You're aware of his passion to join the Genius Society but he can work on that while hanging out with you too right?

You felt left out.

So you decided to make your way to his office excited to see him but also a bit nervous due to the thought of him brushing you away to work on something else.

You knocked.

“Come in.” You hear his British pompous voice making you crack a small smile not hearing it in a while.

“Veritas..” You open the door smiling but it broke as you saw him writing down something in his notebook not bothering to spare a glance at you.

“What is it? I’m quite busy.” He whispered out, still looking engrossed in his work.

“Do..you want to hang out? It’s been a while and I’ve been worried about you overworking yourself. And I miss seeing you.” You blush at your own words staring at him.

Veritas sighed, dropping his pen and rubbing his temples.

“Dear how many times must I have to tell you that I am busy?” Annoyance is apparent in his tone making your eyes droop in defeat.

“Oh. Sorry. I just wanted to ask..since it's been such a long time.” Another sigh left Veritas as he ran a hand through his hair and finally made eye contact with you.

“I’m doing work at the moment so please leave me to it.” He picked up his pen again taking a glance at you but his eyes widened as he saw your vulnerable expression of defeat. You nodded softly and shut the door leaving.

Veritas stared at the door, his heart clenching in what he just did. Guilt poured onto it.

“My lord.” He murmured holding his now aching head.

[aventurineswife]

HEYY!! I just wanted to start off by saying i absolutely ADORE your work 🫶 also i have never requested before so i hope im doing this correctly lolol 😭

Could i please request a teen reader with parental figure! Aventurine?? I was thinking maybe the reader could be like Ratio's student but they don't like him all that much, so when they meet Aventurine they sorta cling to him instead. The reader follows him around, loves to give him hugs or presents, just very affectionate overal.

I feel like that'd be sooo cute. The whole Dad!Aventurine thing has been stuck in my head for days now.

Anyways, thank you!!

The Gambler’s Heart

Summary: Disillusioned by Ratio's cold, clinical demeanor, you find yourself drawn to Aventurine, one of the IPC's enigmatic Ten Stonehearts. Captivated by his charisma and warmth, you begin following him everywhere, showering him with affection, hugs, and small gifts. Though caught off guard at first, Aventurine grows into a reluctant yet protective parental figure, finding solace in the bond you share. As you help him confront his own vulnerabilities, Aventurine realizes that sometimes, the best gambles are the ones that involve the heart.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Teen!Reader, Parental Figure Aventurine, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Mentorship, Emotional Vulnerability, Protective Parental Figure.

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma (Aventurine's backstory), Light angst (themes of self-worth and vulnerability), Mild language and references to intense emotions.

A/N: OMG THANK YOU!! 🤭💖 ALSO, DON'T WORRY YOU DID PERFECT FOR A FIRST REQ, AND I HONESTLY LOVED THIS AND I HOPE YOU TOO!!💕

The first time you met Aventurine, it was like stepping onto a stage where the lead actor suddenly took notice of you. He was magnetic, his voice weaving through the room with a charisma that demanded attention. But what caught you wasn’t his charm—it was the warmth in his gaze, a flicker of something genuine beneath the layers of practiced bravado.

Ratio had introduced you as his “protégé,” though you hated the label. Ratio was cold, clinical, and calculating in a way that left you feeling more like a pawn than a student. His mentorship, if you could call it that, felt transactional—like he was shaping you into a tool for his own ends. So when Aventurine strolled into the room, all flair and easy smiles, you latched onto him like he was a lifeline.

“Ah, Ratio’s ward,” Aventurine greeted, his eyes glinting with intrigue as he looked you over. “Tell me, do they teach you how to smile in his classroom, or is that considered extracurricular?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you, surprised by his wit. Ratio scowled, but Aventurine only winked.

From that moment on, you decided you liked Aventurine far more than Ratio.

Weeks later, Your affection for Aventurine blossomed quickly, and to everyone’s surprise—his included—you made a habit of sticking to his side whenever he was around.

“Gambler, you’ve got a shadow,” Ratio remarked one afternoon, his tone clipped as he gestured at you trailing after Aventurine through the IPC’s marble-floored halls.

“I don’t mind,” Aventurine replied, grinning down at you as you walked beside him. “Every gambler needs a lucky charm, after all.”

You beamed at that, practically skipping to keep up with his long strides.

It wasn’t just his charisma or the way he made you laugh that drew you to him. Aventurine had a knack for making you feel seen. When Ratio barked orders or critiqued your every move, Aventurine would swoop in with a sly quip or a kind word, diffusing the tension with an ease that left you in awe.

You started bringing him small gifts—things that reminded you of him. A shiny card-shaped pendant you found at a market. A peacock feather pen. Once, you even baked him cookies, though they turned out slightly burnt. He ate them anyway, ruffling your hair as he said, “Risky move, kid. I like it.”

But your favorite moments were the hugs. You weren’t sure why you started hugging him—it just felt natural, like he was a safe harbor in a stormy sea. At first, Aventurine seemed caught off guard by your affection, his body stiffening slightly before he returned the gesture. Over time, though, he grew accustomed to it, even leaning into your embraces.

“You’re gonna spoil me, kid,” he teased one evening after you wrapped your arms around him in the middle of the crowded mess hall.

“Good,” you replied, grinning up at him. “You deserve it.”

At first, Aventurine wasn’t sure what to make of you. He’d never been anyone’s role model—not intentionally, anyway. His reputation as one of the Ten Stonehearts painted him as a man of ambition, not affection. But you… You were different.

He saw pieces of himself in you—the yearning for connection, the fear of failure lurking behind your determined eyes. It was in the way you hesitated before speaking up, as if bracing for criticism, and in the way your shoulders relaxed when he offered a kind word.

You reminded him of a younger version of himself, before the world had stripped him down and rebuilt him into something harder, sharper. Protecting you, in some small way, felt like protecting the part of himself he thought he’d lost.

It was late in the evening, the halls quiet as Aventurine worked in his office, poring over the latest reports from Penacony. He barely noticed when you slipped in, carrying a steaming cup of tea you’d made for him.

“Hey, kid,” he greeted without looking up. “Burn the midnight oil too often and you’ll end up with bags under your eyes like Ratio.”

You set the cup down beside him and leaned against his desk. “I wanted to check on you. You’ve been working a lot lately.”

He paused, finally meeting your gaze. There it was again—that unwavering concern you always showed him, as if you truly believed he was worth worrying about.

“I’m fine,” he said, but the words felt hollow even to him.

You frowned, crossing your arms. “You don’t have to pretend with me, you know. You always say I’m your lucky charm, but you’re mine too.”

Aventurine stared at you for a moment, the weight of your words settling over him. Slowly, he reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, his usual smirk softening into something more genuine.

“Thanks, kid,” he said quietly. “That means more than you know.”

That night, as Aventurine watched you doze off on the couch in his office, wrapped in a blanket(aka his coat) he’d draped over you, he felt something he hadn’t in a long time—a sense of peace. For all the gambles he’d taken in life, this one—letting you into his heart—felt like the best bet he’d ever made.

[leggerefiore]

Could you perhaps do some HCs for if you cooked a meal for the anti gravity hair trio (and anyone else you fancy including)?

cw: fluff, making food for your partner

characters: Lear, Grimsley, Volo, N

👑Lear💎

🪙 The prince was a difficult man to please with gifts. He was raised on the finest of things with no regard for lower quality goods. It was doubtless that it was rare his mouth consumed things not made by the most talented of talented chess. Of which, you were painfully aware that you were not. Yet, still, a desire consumed you to make something for him. Food was a form of love that was subtle but powerful. Making something for someone you loved… You struggled with your confidence as you worked away in the villa's kitchen. It was a bit more laborious than you had expected – though you had put in extra effort for Lear.

🪙 In the end, you asked for a cart and a cover to push your meal back to your quarters with Lear. The staff had stared at you for a moment, likely a bit offended that you had cooked all by yourself rather than letting them do it for you. You were to be a noble at this point, so it was no doubt shocking. In the privacy of your room, you prepared a low table with plates and drinks and called for Lear from his office. He walked into the room, seemingly curious as to why you had been gone for long. His eyes went to the table. Your explanation about making him lunch had him blink. You were asked to clarify if you had a chef prepare lunch for you both. A shake of your head had him blink again.

🪙 He took a seat, carefully eyeing the not properly set table and reached a hand to grab a utensil he found most appropriate. Pasta was swirled around a fork as he gathered some sauce with it. Your eyes watched closely. The food was eaten by him. For a moment, it was completely silent. Your heart raced with anticipation. Had you upset him? Perhaps it was not to his taste… This effort likely had all been in vain. Though… He went in for more and nodded. One of his usual grins split his face. “Hmph,” he placed his fork down after he had finished eating, “That was wonderful. You truly prepared that by yourself? I am utterly impressed. I may ask for you to cook for me again.” He then let out a cry when you tackled him into a hug, far too overwhelmed with joy.

♠️Grimsley❤️

♤ The gambler… He was quite an oddity. High-class food was often something he sought out, yet it was not always necessarily something that he could afford. You knew Grimsley would not put himself above fast food places, but it was not rather clear what he actually liked. He was a difficult read at the best of times, and he never seemed overly interested in letting you too far in. This failed to deter you as you stood in the kitchen, debating intensely. He may not even come home this evening despite you asking him to. You shook off your hesitation.

♡ The scent of searing meat ruminated across the apartment alongside the spice mix you had figured Grimsley would enjoy. His reputation as a vampire had given you an idea. The meat caramelised before your eyes from the raw tinge to a fair brown. The sear marks were plainly present as you sat it on a plate and measured the internal temperature. Perfectly ready. You made yours in the style that you preferred. Just as you finished preparing the table, light footsteps trailed in from the entrance hall. There he stood, eyeing the food on the table curiously. You informed him that you had made dinner for him as a surprise. His reply was to pull back a chair and sit down. You imitated him.

◇ He cut into the steak and watched as some red mixed into the juices that flowed from the flesh. He flashed his sharp teeth as he brought the meat to his mouth to consume. It was obvious that he enjoyed it ‐ Or, at least, was putting in a clear effort to show how much he enjoyed it. Nervousness ate at your mind. What if he hated it? Your decisions had been made based on food you had seen him eat out on dates. Swallowing, you watched him rest his head on his hand. “Darling,” he spoke in his usual cadence of something close to a tease, “I genuinely like it. You know I like it at this rarity. I'm impressed you even used seasonings I like. Stop looking so nervous.” You somehow found yourself kissing him when you both had finished your meal. Another compliment left his lips, making you sigh. Grimsley was probably easier to please than you would think.

💫Volo📜

⭐️ The merchant was not of this era. It was clear from his attire and obvious dissonance with this modern world. While he worked quickly to mask these weaknesses and blend in with the world, you could see through him. It was far too easy with the knowledge that you held of him. The relationship that you had with the blond in the past was not something you could ever forget. Volo clearly had felt much the same as he approached you on Pasio, often without warning. You paced around your lodging's kitchen in deep thought. What would he enjoy? While he had a few candies in the village but in Hisui, meals in the wilds were mostly whatever one could get their hands on. You sighed as you stared at the stove.

⭐️ Spring was here, so you felt oddly inspired to make something akin to available things in Hisui. Canola blossoms were easy enough to obtain at a market, and a white stock was just as easy to purchase pre-made. You had a rich, earthy smell ruminating in your home as you heated the stock while mixing in some traditional mustard and ground sesame. It was more of a side dish, but you planned to make a more filling dish alongside it. Everything came together as you finished up the main dish of a similar constitution. More canola blossoms came together with bamboo shoots, tofu, and spam to create an amalgamation. Volo showing up just as you finished setting the table was little surprise – you had invited him after all. A simple question of what this was from him was met by your simple explanation of a meal. He seemed to sit at the table with a little bit of scepticism. You joined him.

⭐️ He began with the side dish, naturally. The greens entered his mouth as he closed his eyes. Something like a hum left him. You pondered if he actually liked it. There was nothing so dissimilar to anything available in Hisui. He moved onto the main dish, easily imitated his previous actions. The spam, heated and given a healthier coating than its original tone, made him raise a brow. The tofu and bamboo shoots were otherwise fine. Your heart raced. Really… You had no idea why you wanted to cook for him. You should hate him. “… I must say that this was delicious,” his grey eye met your own, “You're quite capable in a kitchen, aren't you? I usually held little regard for what I ate…” You nodded but were got off-guard when he approached you and caught your chin in his hand. “Why don't I show you my appreciation?” Anticipation suddenly knotted in your stomach.

🌿N👑

🟢 The green-haired man was a difficult read sometimes. Not that he meant to be, but he was simply quite hard to understand. Though, he did try for you. A lot. You sighed. Meat was a no-go for N. Wanting to cook something for him was haunting your mind… His gentle smile. You groaned. Something like a stew or soup seemed best. There was still a bit of remaining cold from the changing seasons. You sighed as you gazed at the pot again. He would likely enjoy anything you made for him, but you wanted it to be to his tastes. Your heart raced at the thought of getting a genuine smile out of him. You stood up tall and grabbed various things out from around the kitchen.

🟢 Chilli. A nice, simple, familiar dish. N would like it. The cold of the evening could be fought off by the spiced dish. You mixed in a tomato base with a few chillis and various other ingredients. A bell pepper for some texture alongside beans and diced tomatoes. A quick spice mix brought an aromatic scent into the air and made you sigh. He would like this. You reassured yourself as you mixed everything together and let it simmer. Just as it finished, N seemed to reemerge from wherever he had gone off to today. He announced his return with his soft voice was you filled two bowls. He blinked at your offering. A simple explanation of making dinner led to a sweet smile from him.

🟢 Easily, he sat at the table with you and began to eat the stew. You felt it was quite good, but you worried that even the mild spice you kept it at might be too much for N. Though, he seemed unbothered as he ate it. You let out a relieved breath. He quickly even finished the bowl. Shock coursed through you. Why had you panicked so much? N would never be harsh… His softness and gentleness are what attracted you to him. He gave a loving smile as you finished your own bowl. “… You used the peppers that I grew for you,” he noted, “I'm glad… This was delicious. Thank you for cooking for me.” Your heart was filled with too much love. You rushed over to hug him. He returned the affection just as well.

[hualian]

TGCF Donghua Concept Art 🦋💖

Great Martial/Shen Wu hall → Xianle Palace → Ghost City → Gambler's Den Inside & Outside → Paradise Manor Inside & Outside → Prince Yong'an Hall → Luxurious Golden Hall → Green Ghost/Qi Rong's Lair → Taicang Mountain → Xianle Imperial Mausoleum

[solomoniscriminallyunderrated]

TW: ATTEMPT AND SH

The House of Lamentation stood in eerie silence, the kind that pressed down like a weight, suffocating and inescapable. The grand halls, once filled with the echoes of bickering and laughter, were quiet, save for the distant ticking of a clock. Outside, the Devildom night stretched endlessly, a chasm of black sky swallowing the horizon. But for Mammon, none of it mattered.

He sat on the cold tile of his bathroom floor, back pressed against the porcelain tub, knees pulled to his chest. The walls around him blurred, his vision unfocused as he stared down at his trembling hands. The glow of his D.D.D. cast harsh light over his skin, illuminating the dozens of unread messages and missed calls. A dozen tiny reminders that, despite how much he tried to reach out, he would always be just another afterthought.

He let the device slip from his fingers. It clattered onto the floor beside him, the sound barely registering in his mind. His breath hitched as he clenched his fists, nails biting into his palms. Pathetic. Burden. Disgrace. The words coiled in his mind like a venomous serpent, wrapping around his thoughts, choking the air from his lungs.

They didn’t see him. Not really. To his brothers, he was the fool, the reckless gambler, the greedy mess who never learned. The jokes, the insults—none of them were meant to wound, but they did. Every dismissive comment, every exasperated sigh, every cold glance chipped away at something deep inside of him until all that remained was a hollow shell.

A sharp inhale. A shaking exhale. His hands reached for the small silver object beside him.

The weight of the blade felt final, like the snap of a closing door. No hesitation. No fear. Just quiet acceptance.

The first cut was shallow, a whisper of crimson against pale skin. Then another. And another. Each line was a release, a moment of clarity in the suffocating fog that clouded his mind. The pain was grounding. A reminder that he was still here. That he could still feel something, even if it was only this.

Then the world tilted.

A knock at the door sent a jolt through his body, shattering the fragile moment. His breath caught as panic set in. He scrambled to tug his sleeve down, his fingers clumsy and slick. The blade slipped from his grasp, clattering against the tile, just as the door creaked open.

“Mammon?”

Leviathan.

Mammon squeezed his eyes shut, willing the other to leave. “Go away.” His voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper.

Levi hesitated. “You didn’t lock the door.” His voice wavered, laced with something unreadable.

The silence that followed was deafening. Then, the sharp intake of breath.

“Mammon… what the hell—”

Levi’s voice cracked. He was frozen in place, eyes wide as they landed on the crimson staining Mammon’s wrist. His breath came in short, panicked bursts, the reality of what he was seeing settling in like ice.

Mammon couldn’t meet his gaze. Shame burned deep in his chest, curling around his ribs like a vice. “It’s not—” His voice failed him. There were no excuses. No words that could make this go away.

Levi moved before Mammon could react, dropping to his knees beside him, his hands hovering inches away as if afraid to touch. “Shit—okay—okay, just—” He squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing hard. “Lucifer. I need to get Lucifer.”

Mammon’s stomach twisted violently. “No.” The word was barely audible, a broken plea. “Don’t—don’t tell him.”

Levi flinched, guilt flashing across his face, but he shook his head. “I have to.” His voice was unsteady, but firm. “You—you need help, Mammon.”

Mammon’s breath came in shallow gasps, his body trembling as the weight of the moment pressed down on him. He wanted to argue, to push Levi away, to pretend this was nothing. But the look in his brother’s eyes—pure, unfiltered terror—kept him frozen in place.

Levi was gone before Mammon could stop him, his voice ringing through the halls, calling for their eldest brother. Panic twisted in Mammon’s gut, but he didn’t have the strength to move. He slumped back against the tub, his vision swimming.

He barely registered the sound of hurried footsteps.

Barely felt the hands that reached for him.

All he knew was the crushing weight of exhaustion and the creeping numbness in his chest.

And then—

Darkness.

[kotemf]

An endless supply of homemade meals and knit sweaters for the Coruscant Guard

  It all started when Cringe helped a random old lade cross a busy street.

  It was Cringe's second day on Coruscant and he was patrolling on one of the upper levels along with Rys. When he saw an old granny with a cane afraid to step into the street, he didn't hesitate to help. That's why they were there, right? To help people.

  So he helped this lady cross the street, she thanked him and Cringe wanted to leave.

  "Not so fast, young man. Why don't you walk with me to my apartment, I have some cake."

  Cringe wasn't sure why she wanted him to go home with her and he also wasn't sure why the information about having cake - that was a nat-born meal, wasn't it? - was relevant but refusing this old lady felt rude. So he went along with it.

  He was grateful that he did. Apparently, the cake was relevant. Cringe got to eat as much of it as he could and got the rest packed in a box to take back to the barracks. The lady was good company, too. She was very lonely, her husband died five years ago and her only son moved away and was so focused on career he hardly took time to call her once in a while. She invited Cringe to come over again. And who was Cringe to refuse?

  There was something going on in the mess hall. There was a huge group of troopers around one of the tables. They were sharing something and looked like they were having fun. What was it? Spice, maybe?

  "Commander!" One of the shinies, Cringe, noticed Fox looking at them. "Do you want some?"

  Honestly, Fox could do with some good stuff. "Sure."

  He didn't get spice. He didn't even get a death stick. He got a tiny piece of cake with pink frosting. Where the kriff did they even get that?

  Thorn was sitting at the reception desk in the Coruscant Guard headquarters. He hated reception duty. It was all about explaining irritated senators that no, it wasn't the Guard's job to stand at their speeder to make sure no one scratched it and that if they needed a bodyguard, they had to fill a request and then wait for a clone officer to authorize it, and no they couldn't just barge in and take two troopers.

  "Next!" he called out after the last senator left.

  "Hello."

  Thorn closed his eyes under his helmet, the opened them again. Either he was going crazy or there was an ancient, smiling lady in front of him. Not their typical visitor.

  "Hello, how can I help you?"

  "I'm looking for Glitch."

  Thorn has never been good at remembering names but it sounded like a clone name. Did some poor shiny offend this lady? "I'm sorry, he is unavailable at the moment."

  "Then give him this, please."

  "Of course, ma'am," Thorn said instinctively as he examined the rather large package the lady put on the counter.

  "Thank you, dear."

  Before Thorn could process that, the lady was gone. Curious, he peaked inside the package. It wasn't everyday that a trooper received a gift. He hoped it wasn't a bomb or something like that.

  "Hey guys, do you know where Glitch might be?" Thorn asked a group of troopers in the barracks as soon as his shift was over.

  "Over there, playing cards."

  Thorn thanked him quickly before jogging over to the gamblers. He saw one of them quickly hiding something in his pocket. Fox didn't mind playing sabacc in the slightest but he didn't like it when troopers bet things, whether it were rare credits or just supplies like ration bars. Thorn didn't really know what the troopers were betting, if they lost their blasters in sabacc, well, that wasn't Thorn's problem. But being a commander, he wasn't trusted not to tell Fox.

  "Commander."

  "At ease. I have a package for Glitch."

  "That's me, sir."

  Thorn handed the shiny his package. He still didn't quite know what the contents were, he didn't peak that much. The only thing he knew was that there was something white and soft.

  Thorn watched the shiny unpack two fluffy sweaters and various containers of nat-born food. What the heck?

  Glitch, of course, visited the kind lady to thank her. He left with a huge box of cookies and an invitation to come over for dinner.

  The dinners became a regular occurrence. It didn't take long and Glitch got asked to call her grandma. He even had the honor of meeting the bingo club and was also told to start bringing friends. Grandma and her friends from bingo were furious when they found out the Guard only got to eat ration bars and that they were always freezing because there was no heating in the barracks.

  All troopers had sweaters now. They were warm and soft, not like their blacks. And grandma and her friends from the knitting club even took time to make each trooper who came to talk to them their custom sweater that matched their armor. They even convinced grandma to knit a sweater with fox for their grumpy commander.

  Somehow, the whole thing ended the war.

  The world had no idea why numerous complaints about the treatment of clones were coming to the senate from a senior house and a knitting club for lonely grandmas of all places. They had no idea how the chancellor later revealed Sith lord happened to get stabbed to death with knitting needless or why a surprising number of clones from the Guard decided to go help out to old people now that they were free of all things they could've chosen.

  But the Corries knew. They knew and they would never tell.

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🌈 Queer Books Coming Out in December 2024 🌈

Find these books and more here.

🌈 Good afternoon, my bookish bats! Here are a FEW of the stunning, diverse queer books you can add to your TBR before the year is over. Happy reading!

❓What was the last queer book you read?

[ Release dates may have changed. ]

❤️ Sugar-Coated Kisses - Echo Lark 🧡 Christmas at Watson Memorial - Clara Ann Simons 💛 Warm-Blooded - J Greene 💚 It Takes Three To Tango - Jem Wendel 💙 The Black Curse - N.A. Moore 💜 Heavenly Tyrant - Xiran Jay Zhao ❤️ Encrypted Hearts - E.V. Bancroft 🧡 Dangerous Devotion - Robin Jo Margaret 💛 Sew in Love - Rhea Fox 💙 Saint - Chani Lynn Feener 💜 Her Ladyship's Christmas Companion - Theresa Meiningen 🌈 A Sky of Emerald Stars - A.K. Mulford

❤️ Inked in Blood and Memory - Allison Ivy 🧡 The Key - Jo Morgan Sloan 💛 Home Between Homes - Flynn Woods 💚 A Kiss for the Holidays - C.S. Autumn 💙 Loving the Linebacker - Amaya Knight 💜 Close to Home - Allisa Bahney ❤️ Christmas Shelter - Eva Gonzay & Julia C. Brown 🧡 This Isn't Everything You Are - J. Marie Rundquist 💛 Keep It in the Dark - Justin Arnold 💙 Santa & His Elf - Bink Cummings 💜 On the Subject of Kittens and Mittens - Katie Silverwings 🌈 Winter's Whisper - M Bonneau

❤️ Boyfriends - refrainbow 🧡 Innis Harbor - Patricia Evans 💛 A Complementary Connection - Eskay Kabba 💚 Point of Sighs - Melissa Scott 💙 Bind You by Blood - Shepard DiStasio 💜 The Resurrectionist - A. Rae Dunlap ❤️ Fractured Dreamer - A.K. Adler 🧡 The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou 💛 Becoming Disabled - Jan Doolittle Wilson 💙 A Caress of Water - Nico Silver 💜 How to Survive As a Villain 1 - Yi Yi Yi Yi 🌈 The Silent Concubine - Qiang Tang

❤️ Hadrian - Harlowe Savage 🧡 A Series of Rooms - A.J. Barlowe 💛 Inklings of Invisibility - S.L. Dove Cooper 💚 The Cobbler and His Elves - C.B. Wren 💙 A Nightclub for the Holidays - Arden Coutts 💜 Armor of Dusk - Jess Galaxie ❤️ Twisted Shadows - Allie Therin 🧡 A Deception of Courts - Ben Alderson 💛 Trial Run - Carsen Taite 💙 How to Flirt with a Witch - Tiana Warner 💜 Roughed Up - Kate Hawthorne 🌈 House of Crimson Curses - Ruby Roe

❤️ Sister Snake - Amanda Lee Koe 🧡 Roland Rogers Isn't Dead Yet - Samantha Allen 💛 The Rivals - Jane Pek 💚 Private Rites - Julia Armfield 💙 The Christmas Switch - Briar Prescott 💜 Ribbonwood - Ruby Landers ❤️ Shifting Lanes - Joanne Kwan 🧡 Twice-Spent Comet - Ziggy Schutz 💛 A Crush for the Holidays - E.L. Ough 💙 Resist - Lasairiona Lewis 💜 Free from Falling - E.L. Massey 🌈 The Legendary Master's Wife - Yin Ya

❤️ Tide Breaker's Curse - Ivy H. Marikova 🧡 Twist Her - Terri Ronald 💛 How to Fuck Like a Girl - Vera Blossom 💚 Dog Days of Christmas - Krystal Wolfgang & Kimberly Wolfgang 💙 Warmer, Colder - Alexia Onyx 💜 Salt in the Wind - Jenna Pine ❤️ What We Carry With Us - Joseff McKenneth Goodwin 🧡 Reinvention - Karol Yan 💛 Christmas Carols - Maxime Jaz 💙 I'm Not Your Pet - Fae Quin 💜 Something Extraordinary - Alexis Hall 🌈 I Might Be in Trouble - Daniel Aleman

❤️ Deck the Palms - Annabeth Albert 🧡 Don't Get It Twisted - Wren Taylor 💛 Ice & Sweet - Charlie Novak 💚 Speak EZ - Elle E. Ire 💙 The Disabled Tyrant's Beloved Pet Fish - Xue Shan Fei Hu 💜 Horns For Hell - Rafael Nicolás ❤️ Flamboyant Fictions - Ian Fleishman 🧡 Where the Heart Is - Jenni Simonis 💛 Sorry I Kissed Your Dad - Achilles King 💙 Merry Weihnachten - E.J. Noyes 💜 An Alpha for the Holidays - Emily Axon 🌈 The Blessed - Anne Shade

❤️ Our Sinful Love - Amy H. 🧡 Gambler's Conceit - Adara Wolf & R. Phoenix 💛 Fate and Flambe - Leena Metcalfe 💚 Figure You Out - Hannah Danielle & K.F. Starfell 💙 Amaranthine - Aricka Alexander 💜 Twisted Loyalties - Barbara J. Webb ❤️ Echoes of Us - Alex Cross 🧡 The Shadowbearer's Curse - Jasmyn Morning 💛 Too Many Beds - Various 💙 We Are the Beasts - Gigi Griffis 💜 Unspoken - N.N. Britt 🌈 Rainbows After Storms - Luka Kobachi

❤️ The Shutouts - Gabrielle Korn 🧡 Robin's Worlds - Rainie Oet & Mathias Ball 💛 What the Woods Took - Courtney Gould 💚 Rescue Me - N. Slater 💙 Seb & Ailin - Michele Notaro 💜 The International Love Story - Jonas Noelting ❤️ Waterlogged - Nance Sparks 🧡 The Guardians - Sheri Lewis Wohl 💛 The Changeling's Faerie Prince - K.D. Ellis 💙 Until at Dawn We Wake - Charlotte Dalwood 💜 How to Get a Life in Ten Dates - Jenny L. Howe 🌈 Hammajang Luck - Makana Yamamoto

❤️ The Rules of Royalty - Cale Dietrich 🧡 Tired of Waiting for Tomorrow - Allison K. Garcia 💛 One Last Run - Bryce Oakley 💚 Reckless Hearts - Jax Calder 💙 Christmissed - Blythe H. Warren 💜 How Could You - Ren Strapp ❤️ Blackened - Tyler Briggs 🧡 Gratification in Gluttony - Nik Knight 💛 The Mogul Meets Her Match - Julia Underwood 💙 How to Be Heard - Roxane Gay 💜 The Case of the Missing Maid - Rob Osler 🌈 Shades of Us - D.L. Sims

[inhuman-obey-me]

Trouble in Gambler's Paradise

What's this? We actually got a little bit of political intrigue in Nightbringer Lessons 51 + 52 amid all the usual shenanigans? In our OM?! It's...not as likely as we wish, but we did get some!

(spoilers for NB Lessons 51 and 52 below the cut)

A quick recap: Our entire cast is going to Meowcao to fulfill Mammon's wish after he won in the RAD Science Fair for Devildom Geography. They have the entire town reserved for three days thanks to Diavolo, as he is a major shareholder for the Three-Legged Crow Group, which powers most of the technology in Meowcao. Him being the Demon Prince is probably also part of it, though what we find out makes this all the more interesting.

MC, the brothers, and the Purgatory Hall gang all arrive in Meowcao and end up getting roped into a game -- they have to gamble their souls. While that sounds about right for the Devildom, it's quickly made clear that this is an unusual request and we're now in danger.

For once, this particular situation is not due to some curse but happens because Meowcao is actually home to a considerable number of demons that oppose the Demon King. We find this out from Diavolo himself as he travels with Barbatos, Thirteen, and Mephistopheles to catch up with the others in Meowcao.

Thirteen and Mephistopheles point out that this makes the trip open to danger, and sure enough, none of them can get in contact with the rest of the cast as we're all trapped in a life-or-death situation.

Something we have a constant gripe with in OM is that we have a very powerful cast, yet somehow they end up in situations that they should all easily be able to get out of -- but thankfully, now and then, the game does give us a logical reason, and this is one of those times. In this case, the reason the magic worked on our cast is because it was originally Diavolo's. He had used magic to set up a fun welcome game for everyone using the three mascots of the Three-Legged Crow Group, but it was then hijacked by the hostile demons.

We were able to escape with our lives thanks to some clever thinking by Belphie, and after reuniting with the entire cast it seems we can all just go and have some fun.

Right?

We're then given the choice between shopping, the theme park, or the casino. Each scenario puts you with different characters, but they all include a similar situation -- a random demon showing up to attack.

In all three scenarios, MC is fortunately able to quickly use their magic to stop the demon. Notably, if you choose shopping, Solomon hones in on the fact that we were able to do it without having to recite an incantation. The demon then gives up and disappears, and we resume doing our fun activities like nothing ever happened.

It's only when MC brings it up the next day that anything gets addressed -- but it's just focused on MC's magic. They note that MC's power is getting stronger, making them susceptible to magic sickness and the potential to lose control. Solomon says he'll be mindful of that in his trainings with you, and tells everyone that they need to keep MC's growing magical power in mind.

You know what we don't talk about though?

The actual attacks!

Sure, the demons were quickly taken care of by MC's attack spell, but you would think there would be a bit more conversation around the fact that our cast was attacked multiple times by hostile demons! And in all three cases of the latter attack, the mystery demon specifically calls out their relationship with "the future Demon King" as the reason for targeting them. Will we see that get addressed in later lessons? The naming of "Demon A" does seem to imply the existence of a "Demon B", "Demon C", etc...so maybe! But given OM's track record, we also wouldn't count on it.

Over the course of OM's story, it's been reiterated that Diavolo's RAD Exchange Program is not heavily favored. Some demons at RAD have slowly come around as they've gotten to know the exchange students, but he is still fighting a constant uphill battle as he tries to forge peace among the Three Realms -- and these recent lessons show that there are still some demons who are ready to take more drastic actions to bring it all to a halt.

[theseshipsshallsail]

The Most Common Lies (Are Those We Tell Ourselves)

Chapter 1 

Ever since he was an infant - held aloft by his doting grand-mère to witness the pilgrim’s procession - Elio’d always considered their annual vacanze di Pasqua to be a cause for celebration. A loud, ostentatious affair of rituals and fiestas, culminating in the grandiose Easter feasts that saw their harried housekeeper putting the fear of God into B’s beleaguered tradesfolk.

Invariably, he let himself be swept up by the organised chaos: sneaking chocolate treats to his younger cousins when he wasn’t dyeing hard-boiled eggs with Vimini. The previous winter, however - haunted by the ghosts of relationships-past - had him dreading his return before they’d even boxed the menorah, yet the initial crunch of tyres on the villa’s gravel driveway hit him like a ton of bricks, regardless.

It is often said a pyre reduced to embers retains the capacity to burn, and retrieving his rucksack from the Fiat’s footwell he’d made an impromptu beeline for the upstairs bedrooms, whereupon the déjà vu of those separated single frames proved the final nail in the coffin of everything he’d lost. Something inside him howled at the sight, and staging a hasty retreat he’d marched straight through to the smaller annex, flinging his belongings to the chair in the corner then falling spreadeagled on the faintly musty sheets: the irrefutable gulf between then and now widening exponentially. 

A gross overreaction, he’ll admit, but it plagues him, the summer of ‘83: an indelible, VHS playback; vividly emblazoned in the multitude of dog-eared novels littering his secrétaire. The handwritten folio of Hadyn’s sonatas:meticulously transcribed at the al fresco dining table. The clothes - both gifted and mundane - that migrated to the top shelf of his armoire, and of which he can’t yet bring himself to wear anew. 

He was an experiment. Little more. Just another notch on some visiting grad-student’s belt. A brief traviamento, perhaps, from the routine drudgery. So he fakes a smile to appease his parents’ worries. Occupies his mornings at the poolside loungers. Cycles to N or San Giacomo when the weather allows: pores over a stack of college prospecti in his father’s study when it doesn’t. 

In short: honing the façade of normalcy even as his nights all blur in a self-sabotaging haze; the artificial highs and furtive hook-ups a poor distraction amidst the abrasive crowds of Le Danzing. 

Numb, in the main - yet equally livid his path in life was determined without him - Elio can’t dismiss the emotions Oliver unleashed, so the innate certainty he’ll never experience them again cuts sharper than a blade as he props his faithful leri below a budding linden; one whose gnarled trunk he struggled to climb when he was too young to know an Oliver actually existed. 

There’s a storm brewing to the east - hence his prudential dash from the piazza - and wary of disturbing the Moreshi’s mastiff he sets out briskly across the neatly-mown lawn; lamenting the batteries of his drained cassette player when Jim Kerr’s powerful vocals slur to a slow-motion garble. He’ll have to restock at the alimentari, he suspects, draping his silent headphones about his neck, and mounting the veranda shuts the heavy oak door behind him; narrowly avoiding a tan leather holdall as he kicks off his unlaced Converse. 

“It’s unfortunate, I’ll concede,” he hears next: his father’s sage wisdom emanating from the living room down the hall. “But you’re a gambler, mon ami. You’re wont to hedge your bets. Our Elio’s still counting the cost of a losing hand… no matter the good it might do to confront it.”

Which is somewhat edifying in itself.

Though no less confusing.

Truth be told, Maman seemed grateful his Catholic aunts and uncles weren’t flying in ‘til Friday, and few of their mutual acquaintances would loiter at this late hour to avail themselves of his parents’ hospitality.

Curiosity spurs him onwards - that, and the raspberry semifreddo in the kitchen pantry - yet the second he peeks around the vertical jamb Elio freezes in his tracks; the visceral shock of inertia jolting the entire planet off its axis. He can practically feel the colour drain from his cheeks, and irrespective if all he can see is the third party’s back, Elio knows exactly who it is. 

Flinty edges strike and flare as his too-tight lungs strain in paralysed protest, but blinking the dots from his tunnelled vision he takes a wavering step; finding a grainof self-possession in direct defiance of the farcical scene that greets him.

His father, beaming as if they’d won the lotteria. 

His mother, pouring a glass of wine from their crystal decanter.

And Oliver - the last person he wants to acknowledge, yet the only one it’s impossible to ignore - every inch of his body fraught with tension when a malefic baseboard reveals his skulking presence.

Almost like a son-in-law ricochets from their Hanukkah conversation, and the clear sense of betrayal packs a physical blow as all three lever to their feet; Oliver crushing his half-smoked cigarette in a brimming portacenere.

His profile is weary. His complexion, sallow and gaunt. Lank blond hair lies oddly unkempt - gone, the golden wisps of cornsilk - and shaved at the sides there’s no disguising the patchy growth of stubble that limns his sunken jowl. A chalk outline of his muvi star self, he’s dressed in grey joggers and a frayed, Columbia sweatshirt, but despite the nod to comfort his rigid stance has Elio afraid the palm he’s curled atop the sofa’s upholstery is the sole thing supporting his weight.

He looks terrible - he looks beautiful - he looks like redemption, and the gut-punch trifecta tugs at his heartstrings on par with a Sicilian marionette.

“Elio...” 

Oliver’s lips - Oliver’s voice - shaping the Americanized inflection of Oliver’s borrowed name. Succour that’s steeped in longing - longing that leaves him hollow - for Elio can barely think over the blitzkrieg volley of how, what, why that virtually drowns it out. Indeed, Saturday, April 28th has been scrawled on his mental calendar since the elegant RSVP arrived in the mail: his father tactfully declining the courtesy by dint of an upcoming dig in Alexandria. Yet here Oliver is. Nine daysshy of that fairytale chuppah - of reciting the vows that bind him to someone else - and Elio thrums with pent-up energy as a volatile buzz skitters under his skin.

Harsh. Contemptuous. Unforgiving.   

Suppose they’d moved the wedding forward?

Suppose he was on his honeymoon?

Oliver hadn’t brought much in terms of luggage - assuming, of course, Manfredi didn’t commandeer his suitcases - but could he truly be so callous as to welcome his wife to the home they’d made their own? Conduct a private tour of the abandoned train tracks and gypsy cars with their royal insignias? Sleep with her in those pushed-together beds whilst Elio slept less than a stone’s throw away?

The impertinence. 

The subterfuge. 

The sheer fucking chutzpah!

Elio’s fury is brash and brilliant; his imagination eclipsed by newfound nihilism as it flits from one chilling eventuality to the next. Bile rises in his throat upon registering the outstretched hand beside him, yet Oliver appears completely nonplussed when he shows no signs of taking it: staring, as he is, at the naked expanse of knuckle on his left ring finger.

“Mon chér?” his mother ventures softly: pomegranate seeds in Hades. “Donne-lui une chance, non?”

There’s a peculiar static in the air. A susurrant, seashell-roar burring into his temples. Elio’s jaw firms in the throes of a vulnerable quiver, and partially mollified he steals his stubborn gaze to the Bösendorfer’s ivory keys; the dancing lights of the ornate chandelier illuminating its glossed, mahogany lid. 

“Scusami,” he declares under sufferance: his feigned indifference veiling a multitude of sins.

A piece of his brain has switched off - or switched gears - and unable to tolerate the wholesome family veneer he stalks from the room with no specific destination in mind. Marzia was spending the evening at her boyfriend’s condominio, but Chiara wouldn’t be averse to letting him crash in the pavilion. May well lend a sympathetic ear and a bottle of Barolo if - 

“Elio… Elio, wait!” Oliver insists, and against all better judgement, he does: halting just shy of the foyer staircase. “Please don’t blame your folks, okay? It’s me who caught them unawares. They were simply too kind to -”

“- roll up the red carpet?” Elio suggests; far too blasé for the circumstances. “Bid you adieu?” 

“I’m sorry?”

“Are you?” Deceptively calm, Elio can’t deny the hint of schadenfreude as he lays his Walkman on top the cluttered sideboard. “Come now, professore. Surely you’re not that obtuse?” 

Oliver frowns in his peripheral. “You’re mad at me.”

No kidding. 

“I’m processing.”

“Elio -”

“It’s been eight months,” he says; flushed with pained dignity. “We haven’t so much as spoken in five. And what? Suddenly you’re keen to start from scratch?”

Oliver scrubs a hand over his nape. “I’m not yet ready to think of us as strangers,” he says, offering no apologies for his lack of propriety. “But I wouldlike to sit down, if you’re willing? Talk about what happened.” 

“What happened?” The shift inside him is nigh on tectonic as Elio spins on his heel. “Spare me the fudging, brave knight. Big results require big ambitions, non?”

“You’re quoting Heraclitus?”

“Would you rather Leopardi?” 

“I hardly meant -”

“No, you never do, do you?” Elio accuses, refusing to do something so asinine as cry. “You used me.” You replaced me, he’s reticent to add, though Oliver’s shoulders slump all the same. “You swore we’d keep in touch - that you didn’t want to lose me, either - then quel surprise! You’re telling me you’re engaged!”

“You said it was wonderful news…” 

“Sémantique!” Elio scoffs; instantly defensive. “What else did you expect me to do, huh? Run my mouth like a jealous charity case? Cow you into risking your future when you’d already decided the price wasn't worth it?” A beat. “That I wasn't worth it.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Whyever not?” 

“Cause the devil’s in the details!” Oliver maintains: kerosene; gun powder, combustion incarnate. “And what we had... the things I felt... Lethe itself couldn’t make me forget.”

“Stronzate!” The idea is risible: or would be, if Elio wasn’t quite so winded. “You always thought we were a mistake,” he counters, teeth clenched so bitingly he fears for the enamel. “Always wanted to be good. To behave. And I get it. Really, I do.” Butchers and bakers and all that jazz. “You had a life - a career - a girlfriend you didn’t see fit to mention! It’s been on and off for two years,” he mocks, styling it well, at any rate. “But I loved you. I did. So you don’t get to act like you can have her - can propose to her - and not destroy me in the -” 

“Elio -” 

“Non interrompermi!”

“Please!” Oliver persists; bloodshot eyes huge and imploring. “Please, just… say that again.”

Elio folds his arms belligerently. “Which part?”

“You know which part,” Oliver says, gaping like a netted trout.  

There’s no condemnation - no derision - no malice in any form. But Elio? Elio stands naked under that tenterhook stare, and desperate to cover his embarrassment skirts the entreaty along with his shattered pride. 

They’re outcasts, the pair of them - not of a country, but an ephemeral period in time - and it’d be all-too-easy to succumb to temptation. To embrace the spirit of nostalgia. Oliver might guide him in by the waist: one hand bracketing the curve of his bicep. Whereas Elio could nuzzle his face over that broadly-muscled chest. Arch in brazen encouragement as he rears up on tip-toes and -

Then what? he muses, his parents’ silhouettes breaching the monochrome hallway.

In the unbridled libertà of Rome - Ferragosto, San Clemente, a lamplit section of via Santa Maria dell’Anima - Oliver would’ve met him kiss-for-kiss: tonight though, in the absence of such revelry, his rejection would be categorical.

A violent clap of thunder crescendos in the distance. 

Or maybe it wouldn’t?

Maybe he’d sample the forbidden fruit then disappear once more: prolonging Elio’s torment in some cruel war of attrition.

“I know nothing, Oliver,” he replies - battling a pull as dense as tar - and reaching for the guardrail scales those stairs like Orpheus himself; head raised, spine stiff, with zero intention of glancing back.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63662050

Notes:

The start of a three chapter therapy fic that's been sitting in my google docs for far too long.

[machveil]

kiinda curious what you think about Horangi tbh.

I’m writing a HC post with him right now I love Horangi!! I can respect his character a lot, he joined the military after some… gambling related problems in South Korea and bettered himself

I always like reading about him and listening to him oh my god his voice???. I like to think that, after joining the military, Horangi blooms into a charismatic, sweet guy (he’s canonically a popular soldier). prior to his military life, considering the gambling debt and constant fear of his creditors, I think he’d be more reserved - the type to keep his head down and voice low, definitely didn’t want to attract attention

as another one of CoD’s masked soldiers he’s canonically a mystery man - subject to rumors on base. personally? I like umikochannart’s portrayal of him, scarred around his face like tiger stripes. he’s definitely a pretty boy, the type to have a loud, booming laugh, slaps you on the back a little too hard when you do a good job. I also like to think he’s shorter than most of the big guys like Ghost and Price, maybe around 5’6”/168cm

even though he’s escaped his debts and creditors after fleeing Korea, Horangi is still down to gamble - you always stop before you hit it big! yeah, he’s still a dogshit gambler, but he does win here and there. whether it’s skill or luck it’s luck, when Horangi does win its usually a big sum of cash… too bad he’s going another round and losing most of it

he’s still too scared to back to South Korea to see his family, his debt was large enough he literally fled - he’s worried that if he steps foot in the country someone, somehow, will find him. even though he’s a trained soldier, serves under the 13th Special Mission Brigade, he’s still just a man. he sends money home to his parents and sister (not necessarily because they need it), he’ll call when he can - misses their voices and laughter, he tells them about his nights out and promises he’s not gambling… a lot

overall, one of my favorite characters from CoD! also, biased because I’m half Korean, I can’t help but imagine sharing food with him - going out to a KBQ, loading up on bulgogi and tteokbokki, maybe a good helping of pork belly. top tier character in my eyes! also… his Invoker skin? you can’t tell me this man doesn’t get a kick out of scaring his teammates - he’ll sneak up behind them and shake their shoulders, booming laugh echoing down the halls as he pokes fun at them for jumping

[aventurineswife]

Hi! Another beloved parenting request (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

Basically the reader and the character(Aventurine, Sampo, Childe And dr.Ratio) have a 4 year old son who one night has a nightmare and asks both of them if they can sleep with them in the middle, In short the child sleeps with both parents. Take all the time you want with this, I mean it all! (⁠＾⁠∇⁠＾⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♪

-💤🩵 anon

Safe Between Us

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Sampo x Reader, Childe x Reader, Fluff, Domestic Life, Parenting, Comfort/Wholesome Moments, Nightmare Comfort, Soft Relationships, Family Bonding, Established Relationship.

Warnings: Mentions of Nightmares (non-graphic), Mild Emotional Vulnerability, References to Past Trauma.

A/N: Someone's a bit obsessed with a certain hydro character here ahem ahem, can't blame you if I'm obsessed with a certain gambler here ahem ahem 🧍‍♀️ also Renny is used for gender neutral term of parent since it would've been weird if the child called you parent

The quiet hum of the city outside your window was a faint backdrop to the stillness of the room. You were beginning to drift off to sleep when you heard the sound of small, hurried footsteps padding down the hall. Moments later, a little voice called out, trembling with fear.

“Papa? Mama/Dada/Renny?”

You sat up immediately, your heart clenching. Your four-year-old son stood at the doorway, his hair sticking up in all directions, his eyes brimming with tears. Clutching a small stuffed peacock—Aventurine's ironic gift—he sniffled.

“I had a bad dream,” he whispered. “Can I sleep with you and Papa?”

Aventurine, who had been lounging on the bed, glanced at the child. His ever-present enigmatic smile softened. “A nightmare, hmm? Well, dreams are just gambles in our sleep, aren’t they? Sometimes you win, sometimes you don’t. But tonight,” he said, patting the bed, “you’ve hit the jackpot, little man.”

You rolled your eyes at his theatrical explanation but moved aside to make room. Your son climbed into the bed, nestling himself between the two of you. Aventurine adjusted the covers with an exaggerated flourish, ensuring his boy was snug and warm.

“Tell me what scared you,” Aventurine said softly, his voice losing its usual playful edge. He reached out, brushing a few stray locks from your son’s forehead.

“There were… monsters,” your son murmured, curling against your side. “And they wanted to take me away.”

Aventurine’s smile grew tight for a moment—a rare crack in his facade. “No one’s taking you anywhere,” he promised, his tone firmer now. “Not while your parents are here.”

You leaned over, pressing a kiss to your son’s temple. Aventurine mirrored your gesture, his gaze meeting yours briefly. It was in these quiet, vulnerable moments that his guarded mask slipped entirely, revealing the man beneath.

As the three of you lay there, the child’s breathing grew steady, his fears banished by the warmth and love surrounding him. Aventurine murmured a soft, “Goodnight,” his hand lingering protectively on your son’s back. For once, there was no gamble, no risk—just family.

The air was cool, and the soft glow of the moon filtered through the curtains as you and Sampo settled into bed. His mischievous grin, as usual, hadn’t faltered even after a long day. But the peace of the evening was soon interrupted by the sound of your son crying out from his room.

Both you and Sampo bolted upright, exchanging a quick glance before hurrying down the hall. You found your four-year-old sitting up in his bed, his eyes wide with fear and tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Hey there, champ,” Sampo said, crouching beside him. “What’s got you so spooked?”

“I—I had a bad dream,” your son stammered, his small hands clutching the blanket. “Can I sleep with you and Mama/Papa/Renny?”

Sampo’s playful grin softened. “Of course you can. What kind of dad would I be if I said no to my favorite little guy?”

Carrying your son back to your bedroom, Sampo made a show of fluffing the pillows and tucking him in. “Alright, bud,” he said as your son settled between the two of you, “you’re in the safest spot in the world now—between two top-tier protectors.”

“Papa,” your son whispered as he clung to your arm, “are you sure the monsters can’t find me here?”

“Monsters?” Sampo chuckled, ruffling the boy’s hair. “Not a chance. Besides, if they tried, I’d outsmart them in a heartbeat. You’ve got a merchant dad, remember? I’d sell them some fake monster repellent and send them running!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his antics. But it worked—your son giggled, the fear melting from his face. Soon, he was fast asleep, snuggled between you and Sampo.

Sampo leaned over, pressing a kiss to your temple. “See? Problem solved. My charms work on everyone.”

The house was silent save for the rhythmic sound of waves crashing on the shore outside. You were just drifting off to sleep when a tiny knock came at the bedroom door.

“Come in,” Childe called, sitting up immediately. The door creaked open to reveal your four-year-old son, clutching his blanket tightly.

“Papa… Mama/Dada/Renny… I had a bad dream,” he said, his voice shaky. “Can I sleep with you?”

Childe was out of bed in an instant, kneeling to scoop the boy into his arms. “Of course, little one,” he said, his tone soft and reassuring. “Nightmares can’t hurt you when we’re here.”

Your son nestled against Childe’s chest as he carried him back to the bed. As the child crawled into the space between you, Childe tucked the blankets securely around him. “What was the dream about?” he asked, brushing his fingers through your son’s hair.

“There were… shadows,” your son whispered. “And they tried to take me away.”

Childe’s jaw tightened briefly, but his voice remained calm. “Shadows, huh? Well, they don’t stand a chance against us. Your parent and I are the strongest team there is.”

He glanced at you, his eyes softening as he reached over to take your hand. “We’ve got him, right?”

You nodded, smiling. “Always.”

Your son’s breathing slowed as he relaxed, lulled by the warmth and safety of your embrace. Childe watched him for a moment, his hand resting protectively on the boy’s back. “I’ll never let anything happen to him,” he whispered, more to himself than to you.

The soft glow of the night lamp illuminated your room when the faint sound of sniffles reached your ears. Moments later, your four-year-old son appeared at the doorway, his small frame trembling.

“Mommy/Daddy/Renny… Daddy… I had a bad dream,” he said, clutching his blanket. “Can I sleep with you?”

Ratio adjusted his glasses, his intense eyes softening as he looked at the child. “A nightmare?” he murmured, rising to kneel before him. “Dreams are merely the mind’s way of sorting chaos. Let’s bring some order to this, shall we?”

You smiled as Ratio scooped the boy into his arms, his scholarly tone transforming into something gentle and warm. “Come,” he said, settling the child between you. “There is no safer place than here.”

As your son curled up, Ratio placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Tell me what frightened you,” he urged.

“There were big, scary shapes,” your son whispered, his voice muffled against your chest. “And they were chasing me.”

Ratio nodded thoughtfully. “Ah, shadows. A product of fear and imagination,” he explained. “But fear loses its power in the presence of love and knowledge.”

Your son’s eyes fluttered closed as you and Ratio soothed him with quiet reassurances. “Sleep now, my little prodigy,” Ratio whispered, his hand lingering protectively on the boy’s back. “Your dreams will find clarity, and we will always be here to guide you.”

[gerec]

hey! thank you soooo much for your recs, you're truly a life-changer. do you have any regency cherik recs?

Hi Anon!

Yay one of my favourite genres! Here's a list of regency aus for you to enjoy!!!

First Impressions by sirona

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a spouse – or the nearest set of curtains to hide behind, if you were to believe Mr Charles Xavier. Little does he know that he himself will soon put test to that very truth.

No Longer in Silence by Black_Betty

It has been eight years since Charles has seen Erik. Eight years since they parted under unkind circumstances and Erik went off to sea. The boy he once knew is Captain Lehnsherr now and they are as known to one another as strangers, and yet--Charles finds that eight years has done nothing to diminish the feelings he had when he was 16 and in love.

It's unfortunate then that Erik doesn't feel the same way.

(Persuasion AU)

Roses & Cinnamon by TurtleTotem

Charles Xavier lost more than his leg in the war with Napoleon, and the man he’s just pulled out of the water has ghosts of his own – especially when Charles’s involuntary projected hallucinations prove catching. Raven, meanwhile, faces the choice of whether to marry respectably or run away with a carnival fortune-teller.

Pride & Prejudice - Rip it from my hands by Synekdokee

“Say you forgive me,” Erik whispered, his breath warm against the skin of Charles’ neck.

Charles stood quietly by the window, looking past their reflections out into the yard.

“You made your feelings quite clear,” he said, stepping away from Erik.

Erik grasped his wrist hard, refusing to let Charles walk away.

“Please.”

Dance With Me by wallhaditcoming (uvcatastrophe) 

After his most recent tour, Erik Lehnsherr has finally earned the rank of Captain and a commission on a vessel all his own. With the prize money he has collected and this new rank, he finally feels secure enough in his future to propose to the man he has loved for years. He just prays that Charles is willing to have him.

Sonnet for a Poet and His Pirate by luninosity, velvetcadence

Erik had, of course, known his name before they’d ever met. Charles Francis Xavier, Viscount of Westchester. Famous, or infamous, for those scandalous little books of poetry, plain-bound and sold under discreet covers and scorchingly breathtakingly obscene.

The changeling; or, Charles Xavier (a Novel by a Lady) by aesc

[1834] The changeling Charles Xavier, friendless and dispossessed of his fortune, arrives at Ironhill Hall to tutor the two children of the mysterious Mr. Lehnsherr. Or, the one where XMFC meets a heavily-revised Jane Eyre meets steampunk.

Move Still by Black_Betty

Erik Lehnsherr hates dancing, but has a very specific reason for throwing a ball...

What We All Long For by Nos4a2no9

Charles Xavier was heir to a vast fortune before his stepfather stole his birthright, his dignity, and his freedom. Forced to serve as Kurt Marko's informant and as a sexual plaything for the wealthy men of Europe’s upper crust, Charles yearns for nothing more than a quiet life free from shame and abuse.

The death of his stepfather seems to offer a way out, but Charles is once again forced to serve the Markos when his stepbrother offers him up as collateral in a game of chance. Suddenly Charles becomes the property of Erik Lehnsherr, a mysterious gambler with a thirst for revenge.

When love between the two men begins to blossom, Charles finally discovers what is at the heart of Erik’s tragic story, and why he is set upon a devastating course of revenge that will endanger Erik, Charles, and everything they have longed for.

Tryst With a Stranger by Lindstrom

Charles will do his duty and marry a man he’s never met to save the family estate, but he has one night of freedom left. His body is his own, and he’s not saving himself for his dull and ruthless fiancé. His mother is throwing a ball and Charles develops a plan: he’ll find a stranger at the ball and seduce him . . .

An Affair to Remember or Forget? by pinkoptics

Erik has journeyed to England to survey the land for his new steel factory, but also to meet his fiancé whose family owns that land. Of the two, Erik is more excited about the former. The marriage contract is a truly business contract, nothing more, which suits him well. Undoubtedly, his fiancé is just another brainless and foolish member of the gentry, so the less they have to do with one another the better.

When Erik seduces a man in a darkened hallway at a ball (surely there is nothing wrong with finding a little pleasure on this business trip), he is shocked to discover that the man he has seduced is none other than his fiancé, Charles Xavier.

Can expectation and reality be reconciled?

Fine Men of Fine Taste by velvetcadence

The Xaviers move into Westchester manor with a handsome guest in tow, causing quite a stir in the neighborhood. Miss Raven Xavier meets her match in Henry McCoy, and though Moira MacTaggert is a possible and pleasing suit for Mr Charles Xavier, there seems to be more than meets the eye in his strange friendship with the brooding Mr Lehnsherr.

Or, the one where Charles and Erik one-up Bingley and Darcy's rad bromance, and maybe level it up too.

A Pride and Prejudice AU.

Connexions by keire_ke

When Mr Lehnsherr of Thornfield first began seeking a tutor suited to educate his young daughter, he could hardly have expected the young gentleman who turned up at his door, nor the connection they would forge.

Without the Words (this, and my heart beside Remix) by flightinflame 

Charles knows that this arrangement will work out well for all of them. He gets the heir he needs, Doctor Shaw is saved disgrace after his ward's indiscretions, and Erik gets a fresh start. It would be easier, though, if Erik at least pretended to hide his hatred.

To Turn and Look Back When Thou Hearest the Sound of My Name by lachatblanche

North and South AU.

Erik, the master of the Genosha steel mill in the north, has lived a hard life, building his industry from scratch with the aid of his adopted sibling, Emma. When Charles Xavier, a young, southern gentleman, takes up residence near the mill, Erik finds himself drawn to him, despite Charles making it very clear that he cares neither for the north nor for Erik.

Expectations by motleystitches (furius)

Conservative-minded alpha Erik is in love with omega cad Charles. While Erik is expecting a lifetime commitment, Charles is less than amused at the prospect. And of course, everyone else has an opinion on the matter as well.

A Regency AU that's less drawing room romance than a bedroom aftermath.

these ties, how fast they break (by ikeracity; kinkmeme)

And a couple by me for your consideration:

The Master of Charlton Park by Gerec

On the brink of losing his ancestral home, omega Charles Xavier agreed to do the unthinkable; he would sacrifice his own happiness for the sake of his family, and bear a child for a married alpha and his mate.

But Charles never expected that alpha to be Erik Lehnsherr, with whom he shared an impossible love and undeniable passion.

All of You and All of Me by Gerec

Erik Lehnsherr aka Magneto is King of Genosha, forty-three and the veteran of countless wars against the British Empire.

Charles Xavier is his new husband, in a marriage arranged by the King of England as part of the peace treaty between their two kingdoms.

Logan Howlett is Charles’ long time friend and bodyguard, in a secret love affair with the married Prince Consort.

[gingerlee-holds]

if it's ok with you I would love a part 3 of the letting of steam fics. i love the first two so far

oh of course!!!! thank you so much for the request heehee! i think there's gonna be one more chapter after this one before the story ends heehee, so if its requested ill begin working on that- i wanted alastor to be sweet with husker cuz husk's very clearly terrified of him so he's gentle with husk- anyways enjoy!! and thanku again for requesting <33333333

(also dont get mad but im not showing Angel's accent phonetically, that's just not my style so use your imagination)

Last Man Standing

Read the first one here! Read the previous one here!

Words: 1953 Pairing: Ler!Alastor, Lees!Niffty, Angel, and Husker Warnings: Alcohol and a panic attack, Angel being Angel, and also its unedited

Husker slightly trembled as he looked around. The radio demon could appear from any shadow, and Husk was never ready. The gambler hated that Alastor got to him so much, but he couldn’t help being afraid. That demon had his soul, and his grip on it was ceaseless. 

Mercifully, Husker wasn’t alone as he slunk through the hotel halls. He tightly held Angel Dust’s hand, who seemed completely unfazed by the situation. Behind them, trying to keep up, Niffty clapped her hands excitedly. Husker was at least glad she was enjoying herself. 

“Stay close, Niffty,” Husk looked behind him, motioning for the maid to hold his other hand. “You know how extra our boss can be.” He felt a little better holding their hands, but he knew that once Alastor tasted figurative blood in the water, it wouldn’t matter.

The shadow of the radio demon followed them down the dark hallway. Alastor may have been part-deer, but all that was going through his mind now was the instincts of a hunter. And if he wanted to be efficient about this - which he always did - he’d pick them off, one by one, starting with the weakest. 

Angel looked over. “Huskie, your hand is trembling. You afraid of the dark?” He said it with a light tone, but as soon as he saw the hotel bartender look back at him with eyes filled with terror, he softened. “Don’t worry, sugar. I’ll protect ya,” he said, affectionately rubbing Husker’s knuckle with his thumb. 

“And I’ll protect you, too!” Niffty giggled as she said it, squeezing Husker’s other hand.

Despite the fear, Husk grinned a little. “Thanks, you two,” he mumbled. He wrapped his tail around his waist like a hug, trying to level his breathing.

“Besides,” Angel continued, gesturing as he spoke, “I’m pretty sure Alastor’s just having fun with this. Nobody’s getting hurt. Just a little scared.”

“Cuz he’s a bad boy!” Niffty offered.

Angel snickered under his breath. “Yeah, sure. Besides, you’ve seen how agitated he looked this morning. He’s barely shown his face since the battle. Maybe he needs this.”

Niffty giggled again. “And when he finds us, he will tear our souls apart!”

Husker’s breath caught in his throat as he was reminded of Alastor’s threat. “What?!” 

“No, hun,” Angel chuckled and rubbed Husker’s shoulder. “She’s just fucking with you, Huskie. Our souls are fine.” He sighed a bit when he felt Husk tense up, silently wishing he could get some alone time with him to talk. Luckily, he wouldn’t have to wait for long. Angel spoke up again as they continued walking. “Niffty, no more jokes, got it?” 

Silence.

“Niffty?” Angel looked over, and Husker stopped in his tracks. Slowly, he held up his other hand for Angel to see: it was empty. “Niffty!” Both sinners looked around the hallway but found no trace of the neurotic little maid.

Husker’s breathing rate increased. “Oh, shit,” he whimpered. 

In an empty room, Alastor dropped Niffty on the bed, who was clapping enthusiastically. “You got me!”

The radio demon grinned and ruffled her hair. “That I did, little darling. I have two more targets, so I can’t tarry long, but I’ll leave you with this.” With a motion, Alastor summoned two tendrils, using one to hold up one of Niffty’s hands and the other to wiggle against her stomach. He fondly knew that it didn’t take much to unravel the little sinner, and as he predicted, she instantly began cackling like a lunatic. She was easy prey. “Now, don’t go anywhere!” Alastor giggled.

“YEhEHEheheHS SihIhIHihIR!” Niffty said through her laughter, giving him a salute. 

Husker was panicking. She was gone, and he was next. He heard Angel beside him, but his voice sounded distant.

“Maybe she just found a bug on the ground, hun! You know she loves cleaning pests.” Angel’s reasoning wasn’t heard as Husker began stumbling forward.

The radio demon momentarily opened the door just as Niffty uttered a loud shriek that echoed down the hall.

Angel stood straight upright, but before he could say anything, Husker took off like a shot, running as if his life depended on it. “No, Huskie, wait!” Angel ran after him, trying to keep up with the gambler. By the time Husker looked back again, the porn star was out of sight. Alastor got him, too. The bartender whimpered and took off running again.

“Alright, asshole!” Angel Dust yelped as he was unceremoniously pinned to a wall by Alastor’s magic. “First of all, how you’re holding me is all wrong. See, these hands over here are barely being held down at all. And you shouldn’t keep the arms completely stretched and extended like this; it’s always better to allow some give; that way, the muscles don’t get sore. Have you ever done this before?”

Alastor’s eye twitched in annoyance, but he took what Angel said into account and moved him a little. “An expert?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty much a pro regarding restraints. But secondly, and also most importantly, you’re scaring Husker. He’s having a panic attack, thanks to you.”

“I’ll attend to him shortly, don’t worry. As for you, my effeminate fellow, it’s time for your punishment after being found!”

“Do… do you hear yourself right now?” Angel raised an eyebrow. “That is some seriously kinky shit. I’ve heard that exact line a dozen times. It’s one of the classic amateur porn-writing lines. Like, you know what I’m gonna say to that, right?”

“Hm! Then don’t say anything,” the radio demon smiled wide. “Just laugh.”

“With the way you’re holding me down, I might just do thahAhahahahhat! WhaaHAt?!” Angel looked down and saw sets of claws extending from the wall, wriggling into his underarms.

“Four arms means four armpits! Now, excuse me,” Alastor turned and walked to the door. Angel Dust’s laugh was just as loud as his personality, and he wasn’t used to the gentle, teasy touch he was receiving. With a chuckle, Alastor left him to his tickling. 

Husker ran until he saw the bar, and with all the grace of a terrified cat, he leaped over the bar, knocking a bottle over, and curled up on the floor in a ball. He trembled and gripped his neck, practically feeling his chain tightening as the radio demon held his soul in a vice-like sadistic grip. 

Suddenly, Husker was jarred out of his thoughts by a single light turning on overhead. He held his breath and looked up to see enough light to fully illuminate the small bar. Then, there was a soft knocking on the countertop.

“I’d like a drink, please.” 

Husker peeked over the counter to see Alastor sitting on one of the barstools, legs crossed and hands neatly folded on his lap. His eyes were closed, and he smiled without teeth. He looked… completely unthreatening. “W-what?” the bartender asked, his voice still shaking. 

“A drink, friend.” Alastor’s voice was soft, almost soothing. Was he trying to comfort him?

“I- why?”

Alastor opened one eye. “Because I’m parched. Being a hunter is hard work, you know.”

“No, as a matter of fact, I don’t know.” Husker glared at his boss. “What did you do to the others?” 

“They’re all having fun, don’t worry.” Alastor tapped the counter again. “Now, gin and tonic, please.”

“That’s… not your usual order.” Husker looked at the radio demon suspiciously. Husker’s favorite drink was a gin and tonic, so why was Alastor ordering it? Regardless, Husker began making the drink and served it to his guest in a large glass. 

“Thank you.” Alastor politely nodded before pouring half of the drink into another glass and passing it back to the bartender. “Here, have some.”

Husker looked down at the glass and then back up at Alastor. He didn’t seem to be manipulating him. It looked like Alastor was genuinely just trying to calm him down. Hesitantly, the gambler picked up the glass.

“You’ve won.” Alastor held up the glass. “A toast! You were the last one I found.”

Husk held up his glass and took a big sip. The alcohol warmed the back of his throat, and he felt all his muscles loosen up a bit. Sighing, Husk leaned against the countertop and looked up at Alastor. He was warmly smiling as he drank from his glass.

“You should have seen the look on Angel’s face, Husker. It was absolutely to die for!” The radio demon laughed as he set the glass down, and thanks to the gin, Husker found himself chuckling along with him. 

“I bet he made a sex joke, didn’t he?” 

Alastor nodded, and the two laughed together. 

After a few minutes, both were filled with warmth and laughing at nothing in particular. The radio demon wiped a tear from his eye and sighed happily. “Now, you get a reward for lasting the longest.”

Husker tilted his head, smiling lopsidedly in confusion, before he felt Alastor’s tendrils from behind him, gently massaging his shoulders. The shock of the touch quickly melted, and the gambler slowly laid his head on the counter. Smiling wide, he yawned like a cat, and his ears twitched. 

Alastor smiled and used one hand to rub his ear, and to his surprise, he heard a low purring sound coming from his bartender. He knew Husker was starved for touch, but he had no idea it was to this extent. He couldn’t help letting a small “Awww…” out, smiling fondly at the grumble Husk made in reply. The feline sinner swatted at the radio demon, and Alastor gently grabbed the offending hand, tracing the heart on Husker’s paw with a single claw. 

“H-heeheehehee… C-cuhuhuhut ihihit ouhuhut…” Husker began giggling but didn’t pull away from the touch. As Alastor continued administering his reward tickles, Husker never once moved, only letting out sleepy giggles.

“You are far too precious to be so scared, Husker.”

“Sh-shuhuhuhut ihihihihit…”

“No, I don’t think so.” Alastor wiggled the claw a bit faster, and Husk’s giggling mixed with his purring made for an extraordinarily adorable sound. Without stopping the massaging, ear rubs, or palm tickles, Alastor gently led Husker out from the bar to the oversized couch in the lobby and sat him down. With a start, the radio demon realized he was still tickling the others, and he quickly stopped all his magic, releasing Lucifer, Vaggie, Charlie, Niffty, and Angel from their tickly punishment. 

The other hotel residents slowly stumbled into the lobby, wiping tears from their eyes and rubbing their still-tingling spots. All had blushes on their faces, and none wanted to talk to the others after being so thoroughly wrecked. Lucifer was practically gasping for air as he shuffled in, and without a word, he sat down on the far end of the couch and instantly fell asleep. Next to him sat Charlie, and next to her sat Vaggie, and the two girlfriends snuggled close to each other. Niffty hopped onto the armrest and conked out faster than you could say ‘stab,’ and Angel crept in beside Husker to wrap his four arms around the sleeping bartender.

Alastor sat in his recliner, took a deep breath, and smiled as the other residents slept. Finally, the Hazbin Hotel was quiet, and he could get some rest. He was shockingly tired, and as he lay his head back against the seat, he grinned at the fun he had had today. He hoped he could do it again soon because, as far as he could tell, nobody else disliked it either. Although maybe he’d have to go easy on the theatrics with Husker. 

The other residents were plotting revenge against the radio demon as he slept. But that would come after everyone was awake. For now, the hotel slept.

[abardnamedreginald]

im a wolf-demon-salamander-grey treefrog-katydid-cricket-luna moth-klingon-trad vampire-cat-romulan-harry potter wizard-gnome-drow-orc-wood elf-high elf-werewolf-twilight vampire-chihuahua-android-bard-druid-sorcerer-d&d wizard-lotr wizard-mind flayer-kraken-owlbear-genetically modified human-andes mint-harry potter merperson-h20 mermaid-great white shark-raven named nevermore-amontillado-sewer clown-animatronic-ink person-reality bender-ringwraith-chicken-fairy-telescreen-multibear-manic pixie dream girl-d class-horcrux-dragon-unicorn-pegasus-among us crewmate-among us imposter-game master-sharpie king size marker-dwarf-dragonborn-toothbrush-rock-paper-scissors-lizard-vulcan-politician-god-phone guy-icebreakers ice cubes pineapple-a doctor not a miracle worker-troll-ent-poodle-rabbit-Bear.-orange zombie-purple zombie-green zombie-professor plum-col. mustard-in the library-with a knife-hoola dancer-fish-villager-pelecan-defense against the dark arts professer-mafia boss-peep rabbit-peep chicken-gymnast-hairbrush-philosopher-music freak-school teacher-kidnapper-police lieutenant-farmer-trash can-dumpster out back-turtle-tribble-my little pony-kratt brother-high diver-pearl diver, dive, dive, deeper-chef-fire-earth-water-wind-wasp-bee-hornet-yellowjacket-mud dabber-grasshopper-rattlesnake-armadillo-cowboy-flashlight-starfleet science officer-harlet-elephant-gater-muppet-emo-goth-preppy-teabag-loser-sucker-mouse-rat-a puppet-a pauper-a pirate-a poet-a pawn-and a king-father albert-the pope-a nun-pastor jeff-gambler-metalhead-death rocker-the grim reaper-angel-lighthouse-paw patrol dog-hobbit-starfish-sponge-crab-squid-shrimp-jellyfish-chipmunk-hammerhead shark-nurse shark-humpback whale-blue whale-orca-sexual harrassment panda-south park character-jakoffasaurus-scrabble board-ouija board-pillow-toilet paper-period pad-tampon-baby diaper-elderly diaper-martian-touch tone telephone-starfleet operations-starfleet command-kirk-spock-bones-sulu-chekov-uhura-scotty-yeoman rand-KHAN!!!-mudd-the uss enterprise-the uss reliant-botany bay-v'ger-valeris-saavik-sybok-surak-sarek-the abbreviation 'idk'-sheldon-leonard-penny-howard-raj-amy-bernadette-mary cooper-george sr-george jr-missy cooper-meemaw-tam-dr sturgis-dr linkletter-dr jack bright-dr clef-dr gears-dr kondraki-dr mann-dr iceberg-dr crow-dr rights-dr sherman-scp 049-scp 3008-scp 4231-scp 166-scp 682-scp 2521-scp 590-O5 6-bill cipher-stanley pines-stanford pines-dipper-mabel-wendy-soos-schmebulok-gideon-mcgucket-dipper goes to taco bell-sheriff blubs-deputy durland-tad strange-andy taylor-william afton-michael afton-elizabeth afton-crying child-henry emily-charlotte emily-dave miller-jack kennedy-dee kennedy-peter kennedy-steven stevenson-aragorn-sam-frodo-merry-pippin-boromir-legolas-gimli-gandalf-faramir-denethor-sauron-elrond-thranduil-harry-hermione-ron-voldemort-pettigrew.-moony-padfoot-prongs-snape-edward-bella-alice!!-carlisle-charlie-cthulhu-greg heffley-pennywise-bendy-sammy-norman-jack-alice (susie)-allison-henry stien-joey drew-bruenor battlehammer-raskolnikov-heather-heather-heather-veronica-jd-kurt-ram-martha-kurt cobain-david bowie-freddie mercury-hozier-mitski-lemon demon-jack stauber-tally hall-hamilton-burr-jefferson-madison-washington-phillip-angelica-eliza-peggy-king george iii-king henry viii-ben franklin-catherine of aragon-anne boleyn-jane seymour-anne of cleves-katherine howard-catherine parr-dracula-𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂-evan hansen-conner murphey-john adams-raymond barron-fred randall-jane doe-ocean-noel-mischa-constance-ricky-karnak-vergil-alternate-thatcher davis-ruth-dave-cesar-mark-adam-sarah-jonah-evelyn-gabriel-trump-biden-sunny-basil-kel-aubrey-hero-mari-vanessa (the mean girl that kinda likes u)-tux the linux penguin-perry the platypus hybrid princess...dont fw me

[leggerefiore]

Masked Bitch

cw: 18+ content, explicit shut, afab reader but mentioned as wearing panties, vaginal sex, masturbation, love hotels, virgin reader, loss of virginity, this one is long. like nearly 3000 words long

pairing: Grimsley/Reader

summary: You get invited out somewhere by Grimsley. It can only be an attempt to have sex with you or him being bored.

MINORS DNI

The invitation had come as a shock.

Grimsley was an oddity to you, after all.

He seemed so loving and playful yet could easily turn into something far too teasing and demanding for your liking.

So, when you had a text from him inviting you out to stay with him at a hotel, you were a bit at a loss. What was his game this time? Playing ignorant to his intentions was foolish, but he sometimes did seem to genuinely wish to spend time with you. So, taking the tram for a ride to Undella felt far too easy. The gambler hopped on from the platform in Black City to join you for the ride there. You did not fail to see the side glance he got from one of the subway managers when he was spotted.

Though, you both soon found yourselves with the scent of sea aerating around. The controlled air of the station was entirely different from the open one provided outside. Together, you walked through various roads and passageways until arrived at am ominously placed building with billboards presenting a discount on rooms for joining the members' program or about services provided. It would have raised some brows had Grimsley not tugged you along into what felt like a parking garage.

Slowly, though, a clear set came into view. Something like a cave with a car parked out front. Water dripped down into a pond of sorts as you crossed a bridge into the lobby. No staff were around, but a tablet served as a check-in. Various posters displayed information and promotions. Your attention was captured about how long it would cost to rent a room for just an hour. The price was not unreasonable… but who rented a room for an hour? Was it for naps? You watched Grimsley quickly finish up at the kiosk and motion for you to come with him again. An elevator ride took you up a floor as he stood at your side. His foot tapped until the doors opened again.

Your eyes went wide as he followed a sign pointing with a boat on it. What was going on? There really seemed like no choice but to follow him. A walk down the hall brought you two to a door which opened to a wooden dock area. A few steps down brought you to a waiting boat, much like something from the Nimbasa amusement park. A bench was inside. Grimsley stepped onto the boat and offered you his hand. Rolling your eyes, you took his hand and sat down on the seat.

He took his place beside you. A glass lowered to cover your faces as the boat began to move on its own. Your shock increased at the sight of a staged ship. Party lights hung from it, while a scene of something love a hidden cove was presented by the building's shell. Water poured from a man-made waterfall. Various balconies hung from the building with lights around the bars and wall decor. The scent of sea was more intense. You realised that you were really out on the waters.

Your excitement caught the attention of Grimsley, who rested his chin on his hand to observe your reaction. Hook, line, and sinker he felt. Grandiose displays like this often got him the prize that he so sought. You clearly were enamoured. More displays of lights and ships and even something like a gazebo on the water held your attention, missing the expression that Grimsley wore. A fake Sharpedo rose out of the water as you moved along, spewing water and shining lights. This felt really felt more like a park ride than a hotel. Palms rose out and above the building. Your hand drifted to Grimsley's resting one on the seat. A babble left you unconsciously, making his grin grow wider.

Though, the ride had to come to an end, so you found yourself entering some tropical themed forest as another dock came into sight with a welcome sign. The boat came to a stop and the glass rose. Grimsley got out first, offering you his hand again. He led you with ease into another hallway behind a door. A chill ran down your spine at the temperature of the room, clearly connected to the outside still. He stopped before a flashing light and led you into a short crevice that had stairs and a door. It was unlocked. He held it open as you headed in. The door shut behind him and locked. It was a small entry area you found yourself in with a kiosk talking about payment. Grimsley shook his head when you asked about it and opened another door.

On the other side was the room. Your eyes were big at the sight. A high ceiling hung above you, with a canopied bed in your line of sight. There was a television preplaying some advertisement for the hotel. Your feet tapped against glass and caught your attention. Within the floor was a viewing window where fish could be seen swimming in the sea. Excitedly, you pointed it out to him. He walked over and watched a few Luvdisc swim by with a chuckle. Your reaction was far too entertaining for a place like this. Grimsley could tell you were completely unaware of the purpose of such a place.

He shifted out to the veranda, gazing at the tub with a smirk. You followed him out, seeing the scenery from the boat ride again. His arm crept around your waist as you looked out for a while. This had been his best idea yet. Your joy was almost contagious. Though, when you both had enough, you reentered the room and sat on the couch together. It was a comfortable leather one that was long and sleek, almost like something off a luxury liner.

Grimsley picked up something from the coffee table as you took in the ambience of the room. He hummed to himself as he flipped through whatever it was that he had. You finally got curious and turned your head before getting flustered. Why was something like that in a hotel room? He casually glanced at the sexy costumers on display in the advertisement. A malicious grin was on his lips. A page was shown to you.

Women in skimpy maid themed outfits and rabbit ears made your cheeks warm. His grin was playful. “You would be cute in this, don't you think?” his piercing eyes scanned the page, “Or, I could wear it, if you'd prefer. I can't say I'm the best maid, though.” You shook your head at his offer. He sighed. Putting it down, he instead placed a hand on your thighs. It was firm. The playful side was gone and replaced with the Grimsley that would have sex with anything that walked.

Your complaints were swallowed as he moved to press his lips to your own. Grimsley honestly was not a guy you really wanted to desperately give in to. His reputation was not unknown to you. Being another conquest under his belt was not appealing to you. Though, the esteem and intrigue of him was undeniable. Your hands grasped at his suit coat. The scent of tobacco and cologne stung your nose. A distant flavour of alcohol danced on his tongue.

As he broke the kiss, your head rushed with various thoughts. A hand pushed up your shirt. There was an intense gaze in his eyes. “… Why hesitate?” his voice was low and deep, “I'm not going to bite that much.” Your chest rose and fell as you panted. This really felt like your last chance to back out of this. His words tormented you more than they should. Anyone should hesitate with a guy like him. Being a one and done was the furthest thing you wanted. Your hand tightened its grip on his suit. The soft fabric momentarily distracting your racing thoughts.

Fingers trailed over the sensitive skin of your stomach. Icy eyes stared right through you. If it was not you here under him, it would be another. Your protest was met with a hand to your mouth. “… Oh, man, you really are a challenge,” a sigh left him, “Why not indulge yourself?” Whatever else you wanted to say was lost as those fingers dancing across your abdomen came to undo your jean button. It felt impossible to say no. You wanted to shove him off as much as you wanted him to pin you down to the couch and show you how he got his title as a playboy.

He pulled down your jeans, leaving you with your shirt half up and pants hand off. His expression was more like a Sharpedo staring down a bleeding Luvdisc than a loving partner. It was far more exciting than you would dare to admit. “Did you wear those for me~?” his teasing tone would drive you mad. “Oh, man, you really are a virgin, aren't you?” The words almost made you bring a hand to slap him. How did he even know such a thing? He just shook his head. “That's adorable,” his fingers pressed against your folds through your panties, “Ol' Grimsley will be your first, huh? Can't say I envy you…”

Your toes curled as an electric feeling went through you. He was far too much. Half of his method of attack was on someone's disposition. He kept rubbing far too gently. There was no doubt that he wanted you to beg for more. The thin guard of your panties felt like a prison fence. Your hips unconsciously bucked up against his movements. A chuckle left him. You needed more. Though, just when you felt ready to break, he pulled back those fingers of his.

A whine left you. Grimsley simply ignored you as he shrugged off his suit coat. The sight of his white button down would have caught your attention if you were not so tormented. A few of the top buttons were undone before he glanced at you with a horrible grin. “… I might take a minute,” he hummed, “Feel free to continue on your own.”

… What? After he did all that to you… He expected you to just… Masturbate? You blinked. Maybe you misunderstood. He seemed to ignore your very existence as his fingers slowly moved to mess with each button for far longer than needed. Your body was so worked up yet left with no stimulation. Thighs rubbed together for anything, but it never seemed to be quite the same. Eventually, you realised that nothing would continue until you did.

Annoyed that he was doing this to you at all, you brought a hand between your legs. Your jeans were well and finally kicked off, leaving you with just your top and underwear on. It was not unfamiliar to you as your fingers pressed into your folds. A certain bundle of nerves was more than easy to find. Blood already had rushed straight down, leaving an odd pounding feeling in yourself. Swilling your clit with your finger, you pressed against it just right. Your hips bucked up against your own hand. An amused sound came from Grimsley as he looked over at you. His shirt was shrugged off as his belt was pulled free with ease. Slacks were finally gone as you cried out from the desperate moves you made to get yourself closing to coming.

Cruelly, he caught your hand and forced it away, ticking his tongue and shaking his head. “My, my, darling,” he sighed, “As much as I want to your face in ecstasy, I can't take much more waiting.” Your eyes watched as his cock bounced up between his legs. It seemed the Elite Four member had forgone underwear. Carefully trimmed pubic hair trailed down. It was nothing like the toys you messed around with. Precum leaked from the tip as he brought a hand to pump it a few times. You felt nervous as he brought himself to hover over you. His body was oddly cool.

“You're adorable,” he teased you again. His cock head pressed against your entrance. A breath was caught in your throat at the revelation you would be losing your virginity to Grimsley of all men. Something between a whine and moan left you when the feeling of him pushing into you finally came. Even he seemed unable to hide his relief as your walls surrounded his dick. He grasped onto your bundled shirt with a sigh. “There we go,” his lips were beside your ear, breath fanning against the sensitive skin, “Congratulations…”

Your arms somehow came around him. Whatever words he opted to tease you with were lost as your entire attention was on the sensation inside you. The warmth was quite unlike any toy. He began to thrust with a set pace. It almost felt too quick. Your nails dug into his pale skin. Red crescents danced across the flesh. A groan left him. Nothing deterred him. He felt oddly consuming, yet you craved more as the feeling spread through you.

Your hips found a way to meet his pace, taking him deeper inside you. A moan left as he brushed against some sensitive place within you. A brow cocked up on his face as he imitated his movements. “Oh? What's this?” his voice was strained. Your legs were wrapped around his waist. He hit the place over and over again. Your body felt so overwhelmed. He pressed himself atop you, bringing his face into your nape. Teeth bit into your skin, making you cry out. His tongue swept over the area afterward.

Everything really felt like too much. That ruined feeling from earlier built up again, tighter and tighter inside you. You desperately bucked against him. He happily obliged your silent request. His pace was faster and harder, hitting a place deep inside you that made cries escape you with little restraint. Something inside you snapped with a loud moan. His teeth bit down again. You came hard against him, yet he fucked you through it. His hips refused to slow, sending you into the insanity of overstimulation.

Though, even someone like him had a limit. Eventually, those hips stilled as he pulled out and came onto your stomach. A groan left you as your head finally dripped down from the high. He fell back with a sigh. Your annoyance at the cum was voiced. Grimsley seemed to ignore you for a moment before pointing to another door. Grabbing a nearby tissue to wipe it away, you stood up on unsteady legs and headed in it. A bathroom with a shower was thankfully on the other side. Well, at least you could wash up.

A quick shower provided a steamy reset from all that. Leaving the bathroom in a towel, you spotted Grimsley watching something on the television with a bored expression. He had not redressed himself. There was a slight envy about his sheer apathy, being observed as he was. “Done? Good, I'm next,” he got up, “… You want something to eat? There's a menu on the coffee table. Order whatever, I don't care.” You watched him head into the available shower with little regard. Taking his advice, you glanced over the menu with interest.

Your food had already come by the time he got out of the shower. A towel was wrapped around his waist as he took a seat beside you again. Your heart raced. “Good food? I was thinking about getting a steak… Though, these places don't usually have the highest quality food to trust with undercooked meat,” he spoke to you. You tilted your head at the mention of these places. Another chuckle left him. “Love hotels,” he motioned to the room around you, “Did you really not know? Oh, man, how precious… I really took your innocence, huh?” You had a sudden urge to stomp his foot.

You found yourself even more lost as you laid with him in the bed. His chest was an almost natural place to rest your head. The gentle beat of his heart had you at ease. His hand came to stroke your hair, playing with the strands unconsciously. A bite mark was prominently featured on your neck now.

“… I think I'll keep you,” he mumbled just as you were falling asleep.

Suddenly, you were wide awake.