#also they keep killing off or getting rid of lis so its hard to get attached lol

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Wrong Turn ||

Pairing: Mountain Man Silver Fox Nomad!Steve Rogers | You. 

Trope: Neat and clean ‘civilized’ Princess-like young trophy wife X Filthy beast of a wild and scary man who only got her because he has the power. 

Description: In a desperate attempt to save your life from the wrath of the mountain people that your friends and you stumbled upon and accidentally killed on a hike gone wrong, you had to offer yourself up to their Leader to use as a ‘resource’. But little did your ‘husband’ know, you had been actively getting rid of his seed to avoid actually getting pregnant. Naturally, when he does find out, he is very unhappy… And also very determined to make sure you don't make it out of your punishment without a child, or two.

Warning(s): Dubcon, barbaric!Steve, breeding kink (gone wild), unprotected p-in-v, reverse cowgirl, doggy style, missionary, he has a wife bod kink (but it is inclusive), misogyny, smut with perhaps too much plot, fear kink, size kink, exhibitionism, possessiveness, jealousy, age gap, hair pulling, spanking, biting, allusions to painal and Steve being a teasing sicko about it but he doesn't actually penetrate, overstimulation, dirty talk, humiliation, degradation, boob play, squirting, Lloyd makes an appearance with his own young bride, dacryphilia (it's me), self degradation, Stevie is a perverted old meanie, infantilization, mind break.

Disclaimer: Very loosely based off of the movie that I do not own. You don't need to know it to read this piece but do note that it takes place in a fictional setting. Minors do not interact. 

Inspo-ish: This post.

Note: For someone who was on their period, I should not have been this horny. But I need this marriage, now. Ps, though this rotted in my drafts for a long time… in honor of Chris growing out his beard again, ig.

MASTERLIST

. . .

You have no idea how long it has been since that fateful twilight when everything changed in your life, leaving you to a lifestyle you could never have even imagined for yourself.  

“Eat up, woman” but as your barbarian of a husband commands you in his rough and animalistically deep voice, you cannot help but break out of your reverie and shudder at the sight of the barely cooked meat piled high on the platter in front of the two of you. “So you can bear me healthy children” although you're the one who was made to prepare his beastly dinner -that never fails to leave you aghast when it's gorged down- as you're his wife, you cannot help but gag under your breath and feel disgust for the loaves that sit before you in the company of a tall stone carved jug that brims full of the foul smelling mead that your husband is ardently fond of. 

You muster up your best coy smile. Keeping up the appearance of a happily mated pair is important. Or people stare. And then the old man becomes unpleasant. “I had quite a lot while I was cooking, dear” your lies sting your tongue out of the fear you feel of getting caught, but the mere hope of not doing so is better than eating this. “Y- You go ahead” you slowly turn in his muscle hardened lap, that you are always to sit on, to give him a small smile but your expression almost transforms into one of horror because of how wildly your heart jumps at the sight of his stern, predator-like face. You are quick to recover though, as it is a usual occurrence. 

“You need it. You work so hard—” there is just something about his rough looks that never fails to send a chill down your spine. You have never seen anything, let alone an actual human man like him before. 

A beard as thick as the very forest his people populate and as dark as the nights can get here in the absence of lanterns due to the heavy trees, age that streaks some of his gold locks with its silver has not marred the sternness of his jaw that remains firmly set under the heavy mane of his facial hair. His shoulders seem akin to the mountains that surround his village and his piercing dark eyes the mysterious waterfall that flows some way down south from the entrance of the settlement. The frightening mass of his shoulders is so toned that if the barely noticeable wrinkles that sometimes appear under the dark of his eyebrows and next to the crow-feather like lashes that frame his eyes, he can easily be mistaken for a man in his primeful late twenties and no older. His unrelenting strength and wolfish stamina would only further serve to bear testament to the misconception. 

Your strict husband bluntly catches your shaky hand that you extend in his direction to feed him some of the meat, the force that he uses coupled with the coarseness of his skin making you jump. You bite back a yelp and whimper when you look up at his dark blue eyes from where you were watching his bearded mouth to carefully place the food in.

“I don't care” Steve does not care much for being polite -unless it is you who disregards it in your behavior-, especially when it comes to you denying or diverting his ‘care’ for you. “You eat more” you bite back the scowl that threatens to break onto your face from how he turns your hand around in your direction instead. “Wives always need to eat more. They do so much at home for husband and children” he probably feels proud of these ‘values’ that have been transmitted to him by his elders. But all they make you want to do is to crack him across the jaw for being a misogynistic and backward shithead. Especially with you. 

Your ‘husband’ believes that everyone has a role to play; a contribution to make to their people and home. That is how this archaic village of theirs has survived in these mountains hidden away from the rest of the world for so long. 

The greasy piece of a disturbing excuse of a rare steak touches your lips and you've been here long enough to know better than to argue or worse yet, fight. So you smile and lean into his arm that cases your form against his through the embrace he holds you in from behind, his fingers playing with one of the many flowered braids your attending ladies had put in your hair a bit before his arrival at ‘home’. 

“O- Of course” you reluctantly open your open and grip your flowy dressing gown for a semblance of support for your sanity, taking the smallest bite you can -which is still a lot as the man pushes nearly the whole piece into your mouth the moment you open up- as you keep your eyes trained on his to avoid looking down. Your mind always becomes more aware of the taste when you look. “Thank you, dear” you focus on swallowing it without gagging and feel your smile split in places because of how uncomfortable you are.

He probably notices it because he slightly raises one eyebrow and snorts before hugging your smaller form -that is tiny compared to his- closer and puts the rest of the piece in his own mouth. If there is one thing you have learnt in your time with him, it's that you can never fool him. Not really. No matter how well you may think you have lied or pretended, he always sees through it. 

Sometimes you suspect he even enjoys it.

Steve finally begins to eat himself, silently offering you another piece that you politely reject by shaking your head and then quickly pressing an apologetic kiss to his scruffy cheek to lighten the blow. Apparently, a wife can never be polite enough to her husband. And though the change in his expression begins with an unhappy frown, your show of ‘affection’ seems to suffice him and he relaxes in satisfaction, now looking down the long table and at his clansmen and maidens that sit enjoying their dinner, their chatter and laughter a dull roar in the large eating hall of the Leader's dwelling. You pick up the heavy jug of mead with both your hands and obediently hold it to his lips to sip from. Steve looks away from what one of his main men are saying and gulps down a mouthful, rubbing your back as a gesture for thanks before moving his hand quickly down to squeeze your ass to heighten the effect of his expression of gratitude. 

His form shakes in mirth when you yelp and blush. He knows how embarrassing you find being openly ‘affectionate’ in front of people and that is one of the reasons why he enjoys it so much besides showing off that a thing of such beauty and youth like you is all his. You rest the jug between your boobs that he has fucked and squeezed into increasing in size and use your other hand to gently finger and stroke his golden locks that he keeps pushed away from his face outside the bedroom. Though he says nothing, you feel his usually vigilant and always firm stature slowly soften and you cannot help but smile, though what he says next quickly deflates it.

“Do you feel any change in you, wife?” You know what it means and now it's you who becomes tense. He only uses that name for you when he speaks to you as a husband inquiring about your marital matters. “Has my seed attached to your womb yet? Does it grow there?” You gulp and feign shyness, moving closer to his hair and nuzzling yourself in him. “Hm?” He closes his hugging arm around you and reaches for your stomach, fingers groping your covered skin as gently as he can -which isn't much- to feel it. “Answer me” he demands when you refuse to speak. 

“I… I don't know, husband” you always promise yourself that you'll demand more rights for yourself; ask him to treat you like the other husbands treat their wives, only to fail the minute he enters your vicinity. 

“What does that mean?” His tone turns blunt and you whimper at the tightness that snaps back in place between his shoulders. 

You get it.

That was the deal, after all. 

Healthy children in exchange for your life that was required by their judicial laws for bearing false witness to your friend accidentally killing one of their people in mistaken defense. Steve had promised you before accepting you as a citizen that if you failed to fulfill your task you'd walk the darkness in the dungeons. He had shown you how it would be before declaring you a member of their tribe and the sight you had seen was something that had given you nightmares for days. 

But that did not mean you actually wanted to have your old captor's children.

You doubted it would ever be something you'd look forward to.

“I- I mean” regret shoots up your spine in the form of fear and you lose your speech to it momentarily. But then two of your main attending ladies -by that you mean Steve's top agents when it comes to you- enter the horizon of your sight and you hurriedly blubber out the first thing that comes to your mind. “I've n- never been pregnant before, s-o I d- don't know how to…” Your husband turns to look at you, his handsome features twisting into a rogue scowl but before he can scold you, one of the two ladies, Kaira, speaks in their language to Steve. 

Not everyone here can speak English and those who do speak it do so a rather odd version of it. Naturally, you don't speak their language and so they give you the full experience of an outsider when they need to discuss the business they want to keep private from you. The thought makes you want to laugh, like you'd be able to do something with whatever informations they withhold.

But it doesn't really bother you, because you don't care.

You've also learnt that ignorance is bliss here. 

Especially for someone like you.

Better to be the doe eyed trophy wife of an angel who can't tell her head from her ass.

“Is that so?” Your heart jumps when Steve chooses to speak English. That means that this definitely concerns you. You place the mead down and wrap one arm around his broad shoulders before nervously combing his thick beard with your other hand. Since you have no interest in or desire to learn their language, the only word you manage to pick up on when you focus really hard is ‘baby’ and that is solely because of the annoying amount of times it comes up for you. 

“Is not this strange?” He speaks once the women step back after finally ending the nerve wracking conversation that seems to go on forever. “Do you hear what they say about you, little one?” Fuck, you're definitely in trouble. 

He is reminding you of your place. 

You put on your best charming smile but you're painfully aware that your nervousness gives it away. You can feel it. “W- What do they say, dear?” They were such bitches. They knew how to speak English, that's why they were your attendants, but yet they chose not to. And now they were glaring at you like you weren't above them— oh no, not these thoughts again. You will never become like them! No, no! 

Steve pushes his plate away now. Your head spins from the realization. It's only half finished. Your husband never wastes his food. It is a near sin for them to do so. “They tell me the most odd things” oh just fucking tell me! You mentally scream but outwardly tilt your head to the side in confusion, your chest vibrating with the rising beats of your heart. “And now that I think about it myself…” His fingers wrap around the mead before he raises it to his lips. “I see the—”

“What did they say, Steve?” Your mouth works faster than your better sense and he pauses mid sip, dark blue eyes flickering up from the stone jug to look at you. Your face flushes a noticeable hot and your ears get sweaty from the awareness. 

Fuck. 

“They say you've been getting rid of my seed” he feels played and thus angry at the both of you. Perhaps more so towards himself than you; his silly little child-wife. How could he let a thing as tender and small as you fool him so? “... Do you?” It is obvious you are guilty. Besides, he is confident that his people would never lie to him unlike one young and beautiful girl that he had found kneeling in front of him in his court while bawling her eyes out one fateful night, fear stricken as his people surrounded him like a doe trapped. 

And of course, your expressions and reactions don't help your case, as always. “W- What? No…” Your mind becomes erratic.

“No?” He himself knows not what kind of a chance he offers you with that. But typical to your nature, you make it easy for him by refusing it.

“N- No! Of course not! W- Why would I ever do such a thing to m- my husb- hubby and my b- babies?!” Steve has to clench down his scoff. 

“You wouldn't, would you?” Your naivete never fails to amuse him.

“No! I- I don't know why they accuse me so—” you mend your speech from the archaic form that tries to leech to it everyday. “I don't know why they would accuse me of that but they must be mistaken! This is a misunderstanding!” 

He hums. “I see…” His scarred fingers begin to toy with your braids again. “So you remain devoted to me and faithful to our family, don't you?”

“Of course!” You nuzzle closer to him, your heart thundering into his chest. “I don't know why they still treat me like an outsider” you purr as you nervously stroke his hair, playing a card of your own and making an absolute fool of yourself by doing so. “I try my best… like I promised.” 

“Yes, your promise” his distant eyes -they get like that when you disappoint him and you hate the sight because it never fares well for you- travel down to your empty stomach. His gaze makes it wrench. Your fear skyrockets at the same rate as your anger. If only there was a way for you to get back at those bitches without having to give birth!

“I- It takes time sometimes, dear…” You hug his shoulders with one arm. “But it will happen. I know it…” Your other hand reaches for his fingers that rest on your abdomen now. 

“Oh?” Steve raises one dark eyebrow at you. His hair is the most fascinating combination of blonde and dark brown. “Is that what your modern day sciences say?” His people were not always like this, he had told you. They did not originate from here. Rather, some families had abandoned ‘civilization’ when it was going to hell -in his words- by killing each other for meaningless constructs such as caste, creed and color differences and migrated up here to establish a system of their own; one free from such nonsense. 

Apparently.

You take a deep breath. “Stevie—” you only call him that when you find yourself dangerously close to the dungeons.

“If that is what you believe in, wife,” he never cuts you off. Usually, that is. His age that streaks his blonde strands with its silver ones has granted him enough patience. Normally, he waits for the other person -who is most often you- to mess up themselves. But whatever the ladies have told him seems to agitate him into rebelling against his own nature today. “I'll do it your way. After all, happy wife happy life, is that not what you tell me often?” Okay, you might have said that during a particularly cocky moment in bed once. 

But the intention behind that had not been nearly whatever he is moving towards now. 

“Y- You don't have to, l- love…” You nervously giggle. “You're perfect the way you are” you run your nails that he insists you keep trimmed for hygienic -as if- and practical purposes through his silver-blonde hair.

“Oh no…” Now he pushes his food farther away. “I will indulge you, little one” he moves your other leg over his laps so now you face the people down the table with both of your legs on either sides of his, ass to his… fuck. “Time conspires against us, and so we must make haste.”

Your eyes widen and your heart leaps up in your throat. “M- My love?!” 

Steve moves your flowy gown out of his way, keeping a firm hold on one of your thighs even though he doesn't really have to. Your fear of him would never let you attempt an escape. “Yes, my stars” the name is so full of sarcasm it nearly pierces you open. “Let us leave time to its devices, and us ours” your husband is usually a very possessive and private man when it comes to you, but his ire seems to get the better of him today. You hear the buckle of his own clothes come undone. The table goes silent and heads turn in your direction once they realize what's going on. Oh no… Your stomach drops. Not in front of everyone. Not when Steve makes you so vulnerable in that condition. Not in front of these lowlifes!

“Husb—” blood bubbles hot under your cheeks as you feel him align himself against you. 

Holy shit.

You feel one of his coarse hands wrap around your throat and he pulls you closer to his mouth so he can whisper in your ear. “You will contribute, my stubborn little wife,” you whimper from the menace his words hold, your well trained cunt obediently squelching open against his thick hard tip as he lowers you on his cock with the hold he has on your thigh. “Whether you like it, or not” sometimes, deep down, you fear that the dungeons are not an option anymore. 

He keeps you in the horizons of his sight too much for them to be. 

It appears as though the sentence has changed. 

It is now Steve, or Steve.

You cry out from the strain his log-like girth puts on the narrow band of your entrance. God. You will never get used to his size regardless of how many times and ways he tames your pussy in. Yes, it does not refuse him or rip around him now as it used to in the beginning -and it did that for a long time- but the size to which his cock makes it expand is like a mini-birth. Feels like it, looks like it. Only, it feels way too good. And that's why you don't mind it—

No. You don't know what that was or meant. But you don't take responsibility for that thought!

“Oh!” The balmy velvet of your cavern grazes down the bulging veins and hard skin of the brute's cock until your petals squish against his heavy and very eager balls. Your head spins when you feel his tip tickle your cervix. It never takes his dick long to find it.  

His hands are pushing you back up almost instantly so he can slide you back down. You look anywhere but at the tens of faces in front of you, instead choosing to look at the wall on the opposite side of the table. You never thought these people were capable of being this quiet until now when your pussy makes an embarrassingly loud squelching noise as Steve tugs you back to his leaking tip and then allows gravity to suck you back down. You desperately bite your lips and try to focus on ignoring the way your insides are beginning to thrum with the excitement and stimulation; to show these brutes that you're better than them and aren't some animal of nature. But to no avail. His slimy precum mixes too well with yours, the rough skin of his hands digs into your thighs too well and the manner in which your petals rub against his cock when he lifts you yet again -now forming a momentum- before letting you slide in again is too much for you mask with nonchalance. 

Indifference has never been among your strong suits.

“Tell me, my pretty” Steve begins again, his dark eyes now finding the young and hormonal pack of unsuspecting boys who clearly do not know better. “Have you ever had a cock like mine?” He says it in their own language so the foolish miscreants see, understand and learn the fact that you’re only his. You belong to him and he will go to war for you, not that a pack of rug rats will ever be a cause of worry for him. “Has anyone ever fucked you as good as I do?” He switches back to the language you understand, roughly fumbling for your jaw before he grabs it and bounces his hips into yours at the same time. 

Your traitorous legs have begun to do what they always do; fuck yourself against him -if he hasn’t bound you, which he hasn’t- in whatever position he has you. You only realize that your breathing has become heavier when you open your mouth to answer. “Only you, my husband! Only you!” Your brain is running too fast for reason or reflection to catch up so you leave wondering why you answer him with the only words he has been able to teach you in his language to later. Your words are muffled as his fingers that grip the lower half of your face nearly slip in your mouth from the disordered urgency of the both of your actions. 

“That's right” your mouth falls open and you begin to softly pant in that animalistic way that you detest when he makes you watch yourself in a mirror while fucking you sometimes. In your defense, it is always unintentional on your part; you barely even notice it while taking his fucking. And yet, it is inevitable due to the force he does it with. “Look at you; dutifully fucking yourself up and down your husband's cock like a bitch in heat” a twinge forms in your knuckles from how your fingers hold the edges of the table to aid the gliding of your fuck hole that now slams up and down his cock in a rhythm you're all too familiar with, the smacks of your bare ass slapping against his naked abdomen making appalling noises that you're too worked up to dread over right now. “And you're a bitch in heat for me, aren't you?” His fingers move down from your jaw to your throat. “Wanting to be bred over and over again until you're so full of my children that your little belly is round and heavy to the brim, hm?” In these moments, you tell him anything and everything that he wants to hear.

Steve knows it all too well.

And he loves it.

“Yes!” Your voice disappears midway from how he squeezes your windpipe. His hips meet yours midway now, the wetness of your cunt and the force of his thrusts causing for his balls to try and push past the tight boundary of your sexual cavern. “Yes! Yes! I am! Please!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when his free hand finds your petals to play with. “Ohhh!”

“You want to be bred, don't you?” He rubs your drenched pussy lips while his hard cock pistons in and out of your sopping cunt. “Want to contribute…?” He chokes you once more and this time his fingers pinch one of your pussy lips punishingly at the same time and you cry out. “Provide your husband with a house full of heirs?” The oxygen in your mind depletes and your eyes flutter as a result, cheeks turning red and nerves becoming prominent on your glistening temples. Your horny yet defensive pussy finally relaxes around him a bit so it doesn't hurt his dick and he savours the moment by holding you by the curve between your legs and fucking into your form that gets limp by the moment to push you towards your first orgasm. 

It always gets better after that. 

For him, at least. 

You don't choke him out so much then.

“Y- Yes!” When Steve finally lets go of your throat to let you breathe, you blubber out an an answer obediently once the light returns to your eyes. Your walls stiffen around him once more. But by then he has already worked himself closer to your womb. “Yes! Yes!” It is all your mind can muster.

“Good” he makes a point of taking both of your boobs in his hands and thoroughly massaging them to show off his ownership over you. “Now ask me to breed you” the fence of heat that has formed around your loins becomes tighter when his hands that previously fondled your clothed breasts slip under your gown -for Steve is too possessive to actually expose you to the eyes of others- and he softly rubs your tense sides a couple times before his fingers form pinches around your hard nubs. 

“Please breed me!” Your voice is so loud and strained that its quality is nearly blood curdling. “Please breed me and s- stuff me full your children!” Your hands fly to grip his from over the dress as you throw your head back and slip from the edge of your anticipation, parrotting all the words he has taught you over the course of your marriage. “Oh GOD! Please!” Your back arches from the coming undone of the hot belt of expectation and scorching gratification spills from it, seeping down your legs in the form of a nearly unbearable electric feeling that transforms into a subzero energy when it reaches your toes that curl, causing them to feel as though they are freezing. “I need your b- babies so bad, hubby!” 

Steve's own ears blush from the heat that courses through them in the form of adrenaline as he snorts, some of his blonde strands coming loose from the push and tug that he plays with your cunt. “Tell them” his balls ache from the strength it takes him not to fill you up right then. “Tell everyone that you want me to fill you up with my babies” since your sensitive body tries to curl and move away from the overstimulation, the older man wraps both of his hands around your thighs to keep you going. “Say it!” And he makes you say the words that he desires in the language of your spectators that look embarrassed for the first time since you got here. 

Save for your husband's best men who look equal parts aroused and proud. 

You want to cringe and be disgusted but your sensitive pussy is being pounded too hard for you to attempt a conjuring up of any dignity. 

“Need hubby babies bad!” You cry out again from memory when Steve's thick seed begins to fill you up at last. “Oh, my God!” The feeling of his hot cum filling you up and painting every inch of your sensitive walls penetrates your already hazy mind and the warmth that steams out of the pearly liquid steams its way up to your womb, making you shudder at the feeling. Your opening tightens around him in protest of the overstimulation and it instead causes for a barrage of bitter-sweet electric sparks to explode through your abdomen in the form of a half post-climax orgasm. Your body grows tired.

But your insatiable is far from done.

“Flattering, but no” Steve pushes you against the table before standing up when he is done fucking his orgasm as deep as he can reach into you. “The father of your children will suffice” your eyebrows furrow at his words but the older man does not give you a chance to ponder over them because now he is hooking his hands under your thighs that your rapid and messy fucking has covered in both of your juices. 

“W- What?!” Your vision is hazy and your mind dazed as you incoherently tap about. “What's— oh!” You wince from how much easier it is for him to move inside your worked open and much lubricated but torturously overstimulated walls now. “Oh! Oh…” Your hands blindly feel behind you to try and get him to stop. “Oh, no! No, please!” You cry out weakly, your upper body hanging low in the opposite direction from the exhaustion. 

“No?” The older man darkly chuckles, paying no mind to your flailing. “You think you can say that to me?” One of his hands desert their post on your thighs to roughly grab at your hair. He hasn't forgotten what started all this. “You think you have the same rights as everyone else around here, wife?”

But you're scowling from the burning pain in your walls, mind hazy and unwise. “Stop! Stop!” Your puffy folds ache from how his stiff skin rubs against them as he moves in and out of you at a normal pace… for now. “It hurts, stop!” 

“That is the part and parcel of having children” your body curves outwards as he pulls you further back and closer to himself by your hair. “And is that not why you're here?” His cocky tone along with the hungry and wondering eyes of the wildlings make you angry. “What you were spared for in the first place?” A twinkle in the eye of a man pisses you off and…

“It hurts, you old bastard!” Your young blood gets the better of you and your mouth runs before sense can catch up. “Stop, stop, stop it!” Since your hair holds you closer to him you manage to land a few smacks to his rock hard arms before you try to snake your fingers under his to pry off the hand that he coils around your thigh in a weak attempt to move away. 

Steve only chuckles, clearly unfazed by your fighting as he bounces your smaller form up in the air with each thrust. “Did your mother not teach you anything, wife?” He lets go of your hair only to restrain both your arms on the small of your back. “Good girls never tell their husbands no” your body flops forward again and you've no choice but to face the long table full of people. “They lay down pretty with their legs spread and let their husbands fill them with their children and then they express their gratitude for being granted a family.” Though your mind is confused and rather disoriented from the influx of sensation, you can make out new additions to the crowd of your humiliation from the corners of your vision. 

“Ugh!” You grunt from the rapid jabs he gives to your sore pussy, his firm hold nearly searing into your wrists. “I don't wanna have your stupid blonde babies!” Steve breathlessly lets out a real laugh at that. “Let go!” 

“There” he can swear he will never tired of you breaking the little character of the obedient wife that you so naively think you have mastered only to break it when he has you all riled up like this. “Right there, easy now” his other hand leaves your lap and he pushes your head down and against the table in the most condescending manner imaginable. Steve has got you to expose yourself for the brat you are, no need for play anymore. “Now I make a bunny out of you” his dark eyes now meet with those of the boys sitting at the other end of the table and his use of their language is a silent message. The Leader knows how his wife is desired. And he doesn't appreciate it in the least. The young males all panic and look away, gulping to themselves and praying for their lives. 

You try to struggle again, your lip curling in disdain and protest as you feel him fuck his cum right up your cervix. The bitter pleasure you get from it makes your head spin and your fingers and toes flex defensively. “Ooof!” Your cheek rubs against the table and you puff out your face to express how tense you feel down there. 

“Brat” Steve shakes in silent mirth as he reaches for your ass with the hand that he was holding your face down with. “Don't you move a muscle.” You're too busy rocking over the table and being held down to try. 

“Hubby, please!” You whine when one of his veins twitch deep up your walls and your knees shiver from the sensation. “Please!” Maybe if his cock wasn't so comically huge, it would have been easier to move past the rough friction of your raw, orgasm worn skins. But it is and so you are ready to abandon the dam that begins to form in your abdomen again if it means to avoid this pain. “Owwwiee!”

“Aw” Steve cooes as he now moves to a pace that falters your vision and causes for the great table to shake with each thrust that he gives you. “So small and sore, aren't we?” The spank he lands on your unsuspecting ass right after is the stark opposite of his tone. “Maybe we shouldn't act out so much when we are so weak and pathetic, huh, wife?”

“Oooof!” One of the shyer ladies get up before she carries her young son who stood next to the group of the young ones away and the realization of the fact that your spectators are all real people who see you everyday and will continue to do after this drips down your limbs like ice cold water. Your hips cannot help but clench from the embarrassment that you dully feel in some part of your mind way far at the back. “Hubby, please!” The spanks increase with each snap of his hips and though the turmoil between your legs takes up most of your sensory powers, your cheeks now begin to noticeably sting from the pain that builds from how the swings of his hand against your poor ass increase with each thrust. 

“Please?” Steve muses like he isn't balls deep into you and fucking the literal daylights out of you like a crazed heathen. “Oh, but I thought I was a mean old bastard” of course, your pleas always only mean that you want more, according to the brute you are married to. They cannot mean anything else, apparently. “And you didn't want my stupid blonde babies” you grunt from the frustration and land a helpless fist on the table. You are in an uncomfortable tug of war between the mutilation of your sensory glands and the tall barrage of tight hot anticipation that cannot help but form in the base of your stomach again because of how hard and rough he fucks you. 

Your husband's main man, Lloyd, laughs in a comically daft voice to tease you and be the insufferable asshole that he is. “You've got yourself a feisty little pup there, Steve” he is the only one who can refer to the blonde haired man by his name. Or maybe, he doesn't care to use the honorific and his usefulness backs him up. You wouldn't be surprised if the latter really is the case. “Don't you agree, my sweet?” He side hugs his own young bride who ironically is one of the sweetest and perhaps the only nice person in this entire village and Lloyd grins down at the girl whom you now notice is blushing furiously. 

Before you can let the humiliation swallow you whole, Steve spreads your burning cheeks and chuckles at the sight he finds glistening and blinking up at him, the madenned hammering of his cock unceasing. “Look at this adorable little button of yours, darling” you are not personally familiar with any of the faces that witness you trying to pathetically crawl away when your devil of a husband begins to tickle your pucker so you realize it was actually not quite hitting you as bad as it does now when you become hyperaware of Rainie's gaze. If it weren't for how your eyes roll because of Steve's hot seed shooting deep up your cavern again and nearly searing into your very flesh this time around from the brutality of it all, you reckon you would have tried to hide. But now all you do is let out choked blubbers as your wide eyes sting from tears due to the sensory overload. “I think it's time we deflowered it, what do you think?”  

Oh, no. 

His cock is not something that you can handle in your ass without splitting all over the place!

“No answer? No?” It feels as though you are the one who is cumming and not Steve because of how good he is at wearing the mask of nonchalance. “Hm,” he roughly pulls you backwards by your hair before hooking an arm around your waist to keep you from trying to get away from how he toys with your trembling pucker. “Maybe we should let sweet Rainie decide for you, hm—?”

“OH, GOD!” You cannot help but scream over him. 

He is too much.

Steve ignores your exclamation, thrusts delayed -more jab like- but so strong that his tip spears into your cervix with each thrust, thus causing for your head to spin from how he chooses to fuck out his orgasm. “She's your friend, isn't she?” Steve's beard gently stings the sweaty and teary skin of your jaw from how his mouth presses into your ear. “Aren't you, Rainie dear?” 

Yep, you are never looking her in the eye ever again. 

“Answer him, sunshine” Lloyd eggs his wife on and you notice through your cloudy vision that he is making her palm his own bulge. You nearly cringe back into Steve's chest from the obscenity of it all. 

The girl, a new bride herself, is shy and small next to her own flesh boulder of a husband as she meekly peeks up at you through her lashes. “Y- Yes, sir. We are friends” her voice is barely audible and both your husbands chuckle. 

If it weren't from how a dull orgasm rips itself apart somewhere deep between your loins, you would have felt angry.

It is like the assholes know that you're friends, and they're having their fun with it.

No wonder they are best mates.

“Good, good” you can feel Steve's cum splattering your thighs with each brutal jab, the sound and sprays of his shaft making a mess of your juices underneath your dress ample in its audibility. “So, do you think it's time your girlfriend's dirty little button was opened up, hm?” He keeps one hand on your pucker and reaches for your boob to grope with the other.

Rainie blushes again and furiously lowers her head the moment her eyes connect with yours. Though you don't know it, her own has been deflowered not too long ago and she isn't sure what response would be favourable by you, so that and the embarrassment of the Leader questioning her for something like that about his wife when she is on amiable terms with the girl makes her choose silence for as long as allowed. And her own husband cockily leaning into her and mansplaining into her ear how it would work for you by comparing it with what he did to her pretty ass only makes her curl further. 

“Shy little thing, isn't she, my precious?” So your husband turns his unwelcome attention back to you, bending the both of your bodies forwards so he can smack your asshole with the back of his hand easier, the impact making you rock violently forward. “Maybe you should learn some manners from her, huh?” The howls you let out from getting your pucker pinched and hit is something you would rather not narrate. All you choose to disclose of that ordeal is that sobs echo in the hall, another orgasm rips out of you and you are sure your body releases more liquid than normal for an average orgasm. “Look at how polite and nice she is, hm? While all you want to do is to curse your husband and be an ungrateful little sloth” it sounds as though a newfound annoyance causes him to grit his teeth towards the end and the tip of his fingers finds recourse in seeking for itself a passage past the tight barrier of your unwilling button as a result. 

And so your mouth begins to run in the desperate way he loves. “N- No, no, no hubby! No!” You vehemently shake your head as you feel your knees start to buckle from the exhaustion. “I- I didn't mean it!” The bearded corners of his mouth pull into a deep smirk. He knows its coming, and he loves it. 

“You didn't?” How can he not when he is the one who trained you to it and taught you the words to say during. 

“No! No!” Your voice comes out child-like from your mind's succumbing to its defeat. For the day, at least. “I d- didn't!” 

Steve is a jackhammer in how he fucks his children into you and works towards giving you more. “Oh, I see” now he speaks to you like an elder speaking to a young one, like you are no older than five winters. “Then, will you tell me why you said such naughty words to your husband who does so much for you?” He knows you're small now and so he chooses his words accordingly.

After all, it is Steve's meticulous tailoring of your mind and body which brings you to act out this specific sequence. 

Nothing less, nothing more.

Just this. 

A shrew tamed into a compliant wife equipped with the mind of a babe. 

He may never admit it outright simply because it goes against his very code of life but Steve knows in his heart of hearts that it is this very push and pull you put up in your own passive little way that keeps him alert and your marriage interesting. 

Addictive.

“Is ’cause— hnnng, cause—!” He pulls both of your bodies back up with the intention of turning you to face him but he chooses not to do it just yet. He wants you, those silly boys and everyone else who suspects that his judgement grows soft because of his fancy for your youthful beauty and adorable personality, to hear it. Steve can always pull you right back down if wants. Your reins will always be in a hand's reach to him. Just because he lets you sneak in your foolish ways sometimes doesn't mean you've conquered his nature-gifted better sense.

“Because, what?” Everything in life calls for balance and so each time your misbehavior that you think you hide so well from him begins to rise above a level he deems no longer amusing, he is there to hammer it down. 

Quite literally. 

“Because I am j- just an i- impudent,” Steve grunts and moans, feeling his cock twitch from how you always mispronounce imprudent when you are in this state. He taught you that word and true to your little baby self and mind, you can never get yourself to say it right. “Little wife and I am a d- dumby—”

“Fuck…” Steve feels a drop of cold sweat trickle down his back from your little vocabulary. He feels himself pant from how hard he fucks you, his windpipe alight from the friction caused by the air he heaves in with each desperate inhale.

You are a proper trouble; something he has never had before, and he loves it.

“— D- Dumby sloth who dunno any real worries besides e- eating and b- being spoilt b- by my lovu hubbsy—” your tongue is kinetic jelly between your teeth and Steve has begun to moan from how fucked stupid you sound. “So I get shtoopid and u- ungateful” Steve cannot contain it anymore. In a fevered and desperate confusion of how to express the thunderstorm you cause in his head, he slaps your hair away, causing for some of the flowers to go flying about, and sinks his teeth into your flesh, growling so deep into your skin that you feel the vibrations cause ripples in your blood. Perhaps that is what Steve yearns to taste. “B- But husby always fixes” your head goes limp against his as he sucks your skin like a crazed animal for you lose a track of how long. Your vision and hearing bolts away from your comprehensive faculties like a bullet train and your body gets sucked into the vacuum of your husband's beastly grip. You are just a lifeless doll rocking in whichever direction and manner he pleases.

Next time your brain catches on with your reality, your body has been placed under his with your back against the table. You faintly notice when your dress begins to get wet that splashes of mead cover it due to your brutish husband's depraved madness. 

“Look at me, hey” he pats your incoherent face until your wandering gaze settles on him, teary eyes distant. “This is the face that you will see in those of your children, and children you shall have until this residence cannot contain any more” his promise echoes in your buzzing ears like the bestowing of an ultimate truth upon you by some powerful deity. “This is the face you will look up at as you spread your legs,” his tip is so swollen, raw and hot against your worn skin that you can feel it even in this state. Your features scrunch from the discomfort. “This is the face you will kiss and cherish” his fingers find your throat again and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he puts pressure on your windpipe. “And this is the face that you will look at until you breathe your last” he holds you until you are on the verge of losing consciousness, though letting go only to stifle the gasp you let out to resume your breathing with a hot sealing kiss.

Your muscles twitch and your body spasms in the position he has you in. Laxness washes over your limbs and you begin to violently shake from the dull and yet stinging quakes of sensation that bloom through your whole form. 

For some dark, twisted and depraved reason, you cum from the helplessness of your situation and it is present in Steve's amused and proud smirk that the knowledge is not lost on him. Swiping an arm around you from behind with an air of satisfaction, he collects your limp body closer to his and walks off to your chambers with your drenched sexes still connected, leaving a crowd of embarrassed, curious, satisfied as well as tamed spectators in his wake. 

You surrender yourself to him and close your eyes as your body collapses on top of his. Your mind barely works but you know one thing— fact as clear as day; you are not making it out of this without at least one child on the way. 

And there isn't a single thing you can do about it.

. . .

[tiredfox64]

HIIIIIIII ur works r sooo good i read them one by one before going to sleep im tellin ya anyways do u still do requestss?? If u do,can i request kunglao x gnreader where we suck kung lao off under a table while hes talking to raiden????? Its fine too if reader n kunglao switched

Hush Hush Never Tell

Yip notes: Guess my works were your bedtime stories XD. Also how did you freaking know I wanted to do a concept like this??? And You picked Kung Lao I've been wanting to give him some love.

Pairing: Kung Lao x Gn reader

Warnings‼️: NSFW, Oral sex (both receive)

You sat on Kung Lao’s lap with your arms wrapped around his neck and your lips smothering his. A steamy make-out session was at play. You had Kung Lao all hot and bothered from the beginning.

He hadn’t seen you since he went to the Wu Shi Academy. He knew he had to focus on his training but his mind would wander to the thought of you. He would think about holding you and kissing you from head to toe. He would imagine how your skin would feel against his and where your hands would wander. Then you came for a visit. Finally, he got to spend time with the love of his life. And maybe he could get rid of that inner frustration that had been building up since the last time he saw you.

He was very grabby today. He squeezed wherever he could. You both grew more and more desperate to the point you started grinding on his lap. You heard his breathing grow heavy and he began to whimper. Oh yeah, things are getting spicy. Nothing could ruin this moment.

Knock! Knock! Knock! FUCK!

Both of you heard Raiden calling for Kung Lao. You didn’t pay attention to what he was saying, you acted quickly. Your first instinct was to slip off of Kung Lao and hide under the table. Luckily the other side of the table was covered so no one would be able to see you were down there, only Kung Lao. Since he wasn’t answering Raiden decided to walk in. Kung Lao scooted his chair into the table more to prevent his friend from seeing his rock-hard boner. The only hint that something was going on was the slight blush on his face.

You heard some of their conversation. Raiden asked where you were, and Kung Lao had to lie by saying you were out for a walk. Little did the champion know that you were close by. This conversation might go on for a long time so you might as well get comfortable and have some fun.

When you looked forward you realized that your boyfriend's boner was not going down. It was pushing up against his pants. You knew it was uncomfortable for him so you decided to help him out a little. There was already a reaction from him. His hand went down to hint at you to not do that but did you listen? Fuck no! You’ve wanted to do this for a long time and now was your chance.

When you pulled down his pants his cock sprang out. Clearly it was happy to see you too. You saw the droplets of precum at the tip. It began to drip down and you took the chance to lean it and lick it up. Kung Lao’s eyes changed from a wide-eyed panic to half-lidded. His eyes rolled back a little before correcting.

“Are you alright, Kung Lao? Are you ill?” Raiden asked, believing his friend was suffering from something.

“Ah yeah…yeah I’m perfectly fine.” He lied through his teeth.

He tried to close his legs to prevent you from doing anything else but it was useless. You placed yourself between his legs. You were gonna have your fun right now.

You began to leave kisses all over it. They were gentle but it had an effect on Kung Lao. His nostrils were flaring up and he didn’t know where to put his hands. You gave him little licks on his tip. You’re killing him with your teasing. He wanted to thrust his hips but that would bring too much attention. Seeing how his legs jittered gave you the hint and you gave him what he wanted. Your tongue began to swirl around his tip.

Kung Lao’s hands were going crazy trying to keep himself under control. One of his hands was scratching at the table while the other was concealing his mouth just in case he couldn’t hold in any moans. Raiden suspected something was up but didn’t ask. He decided to go on and on about what they needed to do in regards to training. Kung Lao was not taking anything in. All he was thinking about was how good you were making him feel. You grew braver as this went on so you decided to take him all in. He felt your tongue slide down as your warm mouth surrounded his cock.

You’re gonna be the death of him.

He let out a whine and he began shaking a little. Raiden noticed and had to ask since Kung Lao was acting very strangely.

“What is the matter? You are not yourself.”

Kung Lao had to think quickly. What did he decide to say?

“…hungry…” Good thinking, it’s realistic.

Raiden sighed before saying, “Typical. Fine, I will leave you be so you can get yourself food. But once you are done we must discuss our training routine.”

Raiden walked out of the room and Kung Lao immediately got to work. You felt his hands grab onto your head before he stood up. It all happened so fast. You felt his cock go deeper down your throat, causing you to gag a little. He thrusted in and out of your mouth. He was a panting and whimpering mess.

All your teasing made him sensitive. Combined with the fact he had jerked off this whole time even when he so desperately wanted to he was incredibly sensitive down there. If Raiden didn’t leave in time he probably would have came right in front of him.

His cock abused the back of your throat while his fingers grabbed at your hair. His pelvis bumped into your nose multiple times. You began to drool from the inability to swallow in time and the constant movement in your mouth. You felt him twitch and he began to moan. One more thrust and you felt his cum flow down your throat. He was pent up for a long time so there was a lot going down. You had no choice but to swallow it all. That orgasm was needed. He was shaking and sweating. He didn’t even realize the top half of his body was leaning on the table.

He slipped his cock out of your mouth before sitting back down. His head went back and you could see his chest rising up and down a lot from his heavy breathing. Your mouth was a mess. A mess of saliva and cum that was slipping down your lips.

You crawled out from under the table and began to stand up before feeling Kung Lao pick you. He placed you on the table and took your pants off in one fell swoop. He parted your legs before giving you a smile.

“Now’s my turn.” He did say he was hungry. Time to dig in.

His face was between your legs in seconds. Gosh, you forgot how impressive his tongue was. Swirling around and making it a wet mess down there. His lips felt like heaven. They are wonderful for kissing and giving kisses down there. You couldn’t close your legs since his hands were spreading them apart. Good luck trying to fight him, he’s too strong and hungry for you.

Your back rested against the table since you didn’t have the strength to hold yourself up. Your head hung off and you were trying your hardest to be quiet. Your legs began to shake and you tried to push Kung Lao’s head away from down there. He didn’t budge and that orgasm hit you like a brick. Your hands went from his head over to your mouth to cover it. Your moans were muffled but could still be heard by him. Prideful bastard, he loves hearing you moan for him.

You sure made a mess on his face. Kung Lao got on top of the table and crawled on top of you. His lips latched onto yours and you both got a taste of each other. When he pulled away you saw the mess you made but also the large smile on his face.

“Have I ever told you that I love you?” He’s such a sweetheart, right?

Yap notes: I saw slugs this morning and that's cool. Not important but it's important to me. My cat finally came out and asked for pats and I told her I had to finish but nooo she needs pats. Now she is sleeping nearby. If only I could have my dog come near but he is moody right now. OH RIGHT THIS IS A FANFIC I GOT SIDETRACKED. I mean what can I say Kung Lao is a cutie patootie. And he has a big appetite like me when I'm not anxious. What am i gonna do for dinner? Adiós!

[kathyprior4200]

Hazbin Hotel Episode 4: "Worlds Fair" (Helluva Scribe Remake)

The sea blue serpent demon roared and bared its sharp teeth…at a small size from inside a jar. After the monster had gotten loose, Baxter had to shrink it with his shrink ray. He was warned by Vaggie to “keep it in your lab or better yet, get rid of it.” Niffty admired the beast inside the jar. “Can I pet it?”

“No,” said Baxter. “Lophiiformes is my science experiment to test my Speed-Growth formula and to have a monster to scare off any enemies who would dare stand against my genius!”

“Don’t let it loose again,” said Vaggie, rolling her eyes. “And Niffty, get back to work.”

Niffty stared intently at Baxter, her face blushing before she snapped out of it and darted off to clean more rooms.

Vaggie gave Sir Pentious one stern glare, and he slithered off back to his quarters with the Egg Boiz.  She sighed. “Why can’t you guys just behave for once? It’s like trying to raise kids who are on drugs.”

“It’ll be alright, Vaggie,” Charlie said, hopefully. “We got Baxter back safely from the desert.”

“But now he has more deadly weapons he could use for who knows what! We can’t redeem anyone if they still have weapons around!”

“Again, we need to defend ourselves against the Vees and the angels,” Angel Dust deadpanned. “I’m surprised all of us have survived each other so far.”

Vaggie then pondered in thought. “Hmm…”

“So, you’re saying no weapons at all?” Charlie asked. “That would be nice!”

“Sadly, not,” Vaggie explained, holding out a hand. “I hate to admit, but Angel Dust is right. Perhaps we need to figure out what kind of weapons could be used for defense and get rid of the more destructive ones.”

“Easier said than done,” Angel Dust mentioned. “Those inventors and other criminals will say ‘killing is for self-defense,’ and get stuck in their ways. We can’t monitor them all the time.”

“We need to keep the angelic weapons at least,” said Husk. “They can be used to kill all kinds of demons, even the powerful ones.”

“They can…kill angels, too,” Vaggie spoke in a soft low voice. The Hazbin crew stared in stunned silence.

“Really?!” Charlie gasped. “You mean the Exorcists aren’t indestructible?!”

“No, they’re not,” said Vaggie. “Besides killing anyone, the weapons can also damage angels and scar demons.”

“Is that how you lost your eye?” Charlie asked, wide-eyed.

Vaggie stuttered nervously. “Y-yeah, I got into a fight with another Sinner, and they used my Exorcist spear to…ya know…” she lied, making a stabbing gesture toward her eye.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Vaggie,” Charlie responded, hugging her briefly. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“Oh…uh…thought it would be too traumatic for you to hear…”

“It’s alright,” said Charlie. “It’s hard to survive in Hell, especially when you’re a lost Sinner from Earth.”

“Rrrright,” Vaggie smiled nervously, briefly putting her hands behind her back, feeling the stubs of where her Exorcist angel wings once were.

“Thanks for telling me,” said Charlie.

“Sure,” said Vaggie. “Just try not to make any deals with Alastor or forget it after many more months.”

Charlie stood red in the face, already losing her confidence.

Going back to the topic, Charlie began. “I mean…I’m sure you could train them to just use weapons in self-defense instead of, you know, pleasure in destruction and murder.”

“Wait, what about Alastor’s dangerous powers?” Vaggie asked.

“Alastor’s magic is another matter,” said Husk dejectedly. “Best to start with dealing with physical weapons first.”

Charlie waved a hand. “I bet we can help redeem these guys, one eliminated weapon at a time. I mean, they’re in my hotel under our surveillance. What else could they possibly use the weapons for?”

Charlie had just finished speaking, when a video flashed on Angel Dust’s phone: “Introducing Hell’s Weapon Expo World’s Fair! Sign Up Today!”

Vaggie glanced at Charlie, both of the girls downcast. Vaggie began, “Guess that answers your question. Shit just keeps getting worse, doesn’t it?” Vaggie growled in frustration as Charlie’s eyes widened in concern and fear.

0 0 0

“Guys,” Angel Dust called. “You might wanna see this.”

Baxter and Sir Pentious glared daggers at each other as they walked into the parlor, but both came over to Angel Dust, Vaggie, and Charlie.

Angel Dust showed the advertisement video. A smiling Vox appeared on the screen. Next to him was a picture of a slowly spinning globe that showed a large neon red pentagram.

“Greetings geniuses and gunslingers of all ages! Looking for an opportunity to show off your egregious exploits?! Come on over to Hell’s new Weapon’s Expo, located right here in Pentagram City! Demonstrate your deadliest devices and prove your prowess in…”

 Vox briefly lowered his voice, his left eye making hypnotic motions, “…gory gains!” More images showed a variety of weapons, guns, spears, swords, bombs, axes and more on the screen. “Whoever wins the contest shall receive infernal eternal glory, an angelic weapon of their choice and of course, tons of fucking money! But be warned dear Sinners, for this contest shall be judged by Carmilla Carmine herself, the top weapons dealer! Plus some other Overlords. Me? I’m just hosting this thing, so keep those profits coming in! To make this extra spicy, we’ll have contestants from all the Rings of Hell showcase their gadgets! So be prepared for some cultural trading and sharing. Sign up today at the center of the city near the clocktower and let’s dial up the chaotic fun! Applications are due in a few days and the event will be seven unholy days of sin. First the contest, then meet and greet, and then free weapon testing on your enemies! Be there or be double dead, fuckers!” Vox laughed as upbeat futuristic music played before the commercial ended.

Everyone stared wide-eyed and in silence. Sir Pentious and Baxter then looked at each other and said at the same time: “I’m gonna beat your loser ass!”

Angel Dust smirked. “Ya know, you two have more in common than you think.”

“Shut up, spider!” they both roared, before narrowing their eyes at each other again.

“I’ll make the best inventions that Hell will ever see!” Sir Pentious bragged, hand over his chest. The Egg Boiz cheered behind him. “It’ll be my best work since my time alive!”

The Piscine Machines stood erect before Baxter. “I’d like to see you try, old fossil,” Baxter retorted. “Everyone knows my IQ is superior than yours and my inventions are, too! Former lab partner.”

“Nobody is gonna want to see a girly fishy nobody,” Sir Pentious hissed. “And a smelly fish that Frankenstein pooped out. You’re nothing more than a background character and an Einstein wannabe.”

“Some words from a goofy old-timey villain no one can take seriously! You’re the butt of all sex and exploding jokes,” Baxter cackled.

“And you’re just a lunatic who needs to be in an asylum!”

“I’ll shove those Egg Boiz down your gullet you cock-sucking cobra cunt!”

“Anglerfish asshat!”

“Tyrannical troll!”

“Diabolical deranged dick!”

“Schoolboy sissy shit scientist!”

“Here we go again,” Vaggie groaned out loud, leaning her head back slightly and almost ripping out her hair.

Charlie took a breath. “Is it…too much to ask for you guys to stay here and…”

“’Talk about our feelings?’” asked Sir Pentious with sarcasm at Charlie. “Not at all. I’d be happy to talk…after I’ve won at the fair!”

“I see a 0% probability of that happening! In fact, I’m going to get started, slowpoke!” Baxter stated. “I’ll see you at the sign-up, sissy-suck-snake!”

“I hope not, fishy-fuck-face!” Sir Pentious snapped. The two inventors turned their heads at each other, arms folded, noses in the air and marched to their respective lairs.

Amid the tense silence, Angel Dust added with a mischievous grin, “I’m planning on joining with Cherri Bomb. I bet demons will love my guns just as much as my…” he grinned, “…parts and fluffy things people think are tits.”

“Absolutely not!” Vaggie cut in, folding her arms. “If you’re staying at this hotel, you’re not going to run off and kill people!”

“Relax, toots! I’m only gonna show off my…guns if you will,” he winked. “No harming others, ya have my word.”

“And you’ll come straight back to the hotel?” Charlie asked.

“Absolutely! If I don’t have work with Val.”

Charlie’s face fell.

“Ready to quit?” came Alastor’s radio voice into Charlie’s ear. He grinned with red eyes.

“Nope,” Charlie folded her arms. “We will…wait and see how things go.”

“You’re just letting two mad inventors run amok?!” Vaggie inquired, incredulously.

Charlie turned to Vaggie. “We just need to make sure they don’t use their weapons to kill anyone! Then we’ll bring them back to the hotel once the contest is over!”

“But this whole thing is run by Vox! You know he wants to bring this place down and create chaos!”

“Well…” Charlie explained. “If this contest can help Baxter and Sir Pentious bond over similar interests…”

Sir Pentious and Baxter slammed their doors at the same time…

Charlie smiled nervously. “…I’m sure it’ll turn out better than we think. Hopefully.”

“Alastor, you’re not thinking of participating in this bullshit too, are you?” Vaggie asked, eyebrow raised.

Alastor laughed and shook his head. “I could destroy all their little toys in an instant. It’s been quite entertaining here already!”

“Tell me about it,” Vaggie groaned.

“But for now, I’ll be off hunting and eating venison in my room,” Alastor said, reminiscing. “Ah…my good old bayou in New Orleans!”

“Can you make a portal to Earth and stay there?” Vaggie asked.

“Nope, I enjoy you sinning failures too much.”

Vaggie sighed and shrugged. “Worth a try.”

Alastor hummed as he vanished to his room in shadow.

“I’ll watch Baxter, you take Sir Pentious,” Vaggie said. “Make sure they don’t kill each other or anyone else.”

“Who’s gonna watch over me?” Angel Dust asked, grinning at Husk. Husk sighed, a bottle in his pawed hand. “I ain’t talkin’ to you.”

Niffty clapped her hands. “Two bad boys! How exciting!”

“Wait…I thought you said…” Charlie began.

“That snake is going back to being bad!” Niffty snickered evilly, making Charlie squirm inside.

None of the Hazbins noticed a few of Alastor’s shadow minions glancing at the doors of the inventors and emitting supernatural sinister snickers.

0 0 0

Sir Pentious sat at his work bench in his room. Before him on a table were a variety of tools, screws, blowtorches, and blueprints. Sir Pentious had his goggles on over his eyes and was using a blowtorch to meld some metal beams together. Extra space had been added to his hotel room for his workshop.

“Wrench,” called Sir Pentious, holding out a gloved hand. One of the Egg Boiz placed a wrench in his hand.

“Screws,” he said. Another Egg Boi placed screws in his hand. The room was full of banging, whirling, fizzling, cranking and the grinding of steampunk gears.

“I shall make a grand zeppelin, bigger and better than before! It’ll have double the weapons and lasers. Even Alastor will think twice! When I make my grand entrance at the fair, the crowd will surely adore me and my masterpieces!”

He pondered. “Hmm…should I bring my Skinflayer 11,000? No, I’d better keep it here at the hotel…in case bratty Baxter tries to sneak up on me. I know what I’ll call my vehicle of war… the Soulslicer 20,000! Perfect!”

“Excellent, boss!” rooted several Egg Boiz in the background. More eggs climbed onto an unfinished hunk of machine parts, screwing in screws, hammering in nails, lifting gears, and putting pipes into place. A few were testing parts of weapons, firing holes into the wall. One Egg Boi stomped on a small fire, putting it out with a yelp. Another Egg Boi in the corner was drooling over a poster of Sir Pentious dressed in a blue military uniform with red eyes on the chest like badges.

“I’ll prove to Vox that I’m NOT a failure! I’m the ultimate everlasting extraordinaire…the vilest of all villains! He’ll be sorry he ever bossed me around!” Sir Pentious banged his fist on the table and laughed.  “I’ll blast that fish-brain boy to bits with this!”

Frank the egg glanced around and spotted something coming in from underneath the door.

“Uh…boss?”

“What is it?” Sir Pentious snapped, not paying attention.

“S-something dark is coming in the room!”

“No one can enter my secret lair,” Sir Pentious proclaimed as a horned shadow minion of Alastor slithered under the crack in the door and flew off to the side in an upper corner. Frank pointed upward with shaking small black fingers. “It…it’s back, boss! I see it!”

“Oh, quite your yapping and get back to work!” Sir Pentious hissed at Frank before melding more metals together. Frank shuddered as the grinning shadow floated down and behind the giant machine. Before long, Sir Pentious stood up, wiping his face with his arm, and staring proudly at a dark gray prototype of another zeppelin.

“Alright, let’s test this baby out!” he called. The shadow minion unscrewed several screws and bent the wires and pipes where the engines were. Frank jumped and yelled frantically but was drowned out by the sounds of the other eggs hustling and bustling. Two eggs opened up a window and two sat at the controls in the front interior of the war machine.

Sir Pentious pressed a button and the engine rumbled to life. Sir Pentious grinned as the Egg Boiz steered the ship toward the window. Victory was his!

The engine suddenly rumbled and sputtered, and black smoke puffed out of the engine holes.

“What the shit?!” Sir Pentious cried out.

“It’s gonna blow, boss!” cried Frank. Several Egg Boiz ran for cover. Sir Pentious leaped out of the way before the back part of the zeppelin exploded with a smoky blast. Sir Pentious screamed and curled into a ball on the ground as smoke filled the shaking room. He stood up and coughed as the smoke cleared.

He slithered forward and gasped. The back half of the vehicle was now burnt rubble and several windows were broken. The two Egg Boiz who had been in the cockpit were now shell pieces and yok.

“FUCK!” Sir Pentious roared. “Now I have to start from scratch again! Who did this?!”

The Egg Boiz cowered and stepped back. Sir Pentious glared at Frank who whimpered and lowered his small black top hat. “I’ll have you scrambled for this!”

“S-sorry, boss, it wasn’t me, I swear!”

Frank then stared at a piece of paper that fell from the sky, pointing upward. Sir Pentious glanced at it and snatched it from the smoky air. He peered closely and read a note: “Blow up in your face, ha! -Baxter.”

Sir Pentious’ face turned crimson red, and the eye on his gray top hat glowed an angry red as well.

“THAT FISH BOY IS SO DOUBLE DEAD!”

From up in the air, having dropped the note, the shadow minion laughed evilly before vanishing from the room.

0 0 0

Baxter hummed as he got to work in his laboratory. Cyan fluorescent lights hummed overhead. He grinned as blue electricity zigzagged from one metal pole to another on a device in front of him. “Oh ho, ho, that stupid serpent is gonna shit his scales when he sees my greatest new invention!” Baxter examined a blueprint of a towering transformer-like robot shaped like an anglerfish. In front of him, the tower of metal was almost complete. It had six metal arms, two thick metal legs with spikes on them and a metal head with a window where Baxter could sit and control it. A nearby remote also allowed it to be on autopilot. In the robot’s six arms were a variety of weapons.

“One gun shall fire my new cactus juice substance and put the audience in a hallucinogenic stupor. One will shoot mind-control rays, another, poisonous green goo from the Hell eels. One will shoot angelic bullets...hopefully I’ll get enough. The next, deadly blasts of electricity that make tasers seem like toys! Hahaha! The last one…shit, I don’t know. Shit? Maybe it’ll just shoot out shit. Whatever works.”

Klein grinned evilly too…until his sensors caught something unusual. “Unknown presence detected,” called his robot voice, a scanner popping out from its metal head. Baxter glanced around. “You fool, I don’t see anyone. You locked the doors, didn’t you?”

“Yes, master.”

“Then perhaps it’s a glitch in your system.”

Alastor’s shadow minion poured in through the crack in Baxter’s lab door, blending in with the darkness.

“Negative. The presence appears to be…non-physical.”

“Non-physical?” Baxter scoffed, standing up and walking to the robot. “You know there are no transparent ghosts in Hell!”

“Technically, you are a ghost, master.”

“Technically, I don’t care! Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to become the greatest most evil genius at the expo! My masterpiece is almost…”

Baxter paused with surprised cyan eyes as Alastor’s shadow minion pushed the robot forward with magic. The towering invention moaned and groaned as it slowly tipped forward. Baxter screamed and leaped out of the way just as the hunk of metal crashed down onto the floor. Baxter stood up and seethed at the broken parts of his robot. He then spotted a note that flew down to the ground. He picked it up and it read, “Guess your project is now 100% defective! -Sir Pentious.”

“I’LL SKIN THAT SERPENT ALIVE OR UNDEAD!”

 Baxter screamed in rage as Alastor’s shadow minion laughed again before vanishing.

0 0 0

Sir Pentious and Baxter stormed into the parlor, almost wrestling each other to the ground. Baxter stomped on Sir Pentious’ scales and the snake grabbed Baxter’s esca and yanked it hard. Soon, they were yelling and rolling on the ground.

“Break it up!” Vaggie bellowed as Charlie looked on in concern. Vaggie tore the two men off each other. Charlie held down a seething Sir Pentious, while Vaggie held a bellowing Baxter back. Alastor watched in the background with red glowing eyes and an evil yellow grin. Niffty, Husk, and Angel Dust sat on the couch with popcorn in their hands. The two men stood up, eyes blinking and glaring on their bodies as they briefly turned into their more demonic forms.

“This sneaky old snake has been messing around with my latest invention!” Baxter bellowed.

“Oh, shut up!” Sir Pentious hissed. “I know you destroyed my zeppelin earlier in my workshop!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! Old fart!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! Neurotic juvenile!”

“Will both of ya shut the fuck up and let’s go sign up already?!” Angel Dust cried. “The expo is startin’ in several hours!” He pointed outside to a line of demons heading to the clocktower.

“No, Angel!” Vaggie and Charlie protested at the same time, but Angel Dust was already out the door, carrying his trusty collection of guns. Sir Pentious and Baxter raced back to their lairs to finish their inventions. “Okay, then!” they both said. “We’ll be back!”

Vaggie groaned in frustration. “With the drugs and the weapons, Angel is never gonna redeem himself!”

“Let’s focus on one problem at a time,” Charlie encouraged her girlfriend, putting a hand on her shoulder.  

A few hours later, Sir Pentious and Baxter raced out the door, their minions carrying their respective inventions behind them underneath heavy-duty coverings. Sir Pentious gasped and stumbled as he glanced down.

“Watch out, swine!” Sir Pentious yelped as he nearly tripped on Angel Dust’s pet pig Fat Nuggets, who was strutting in the lobby. The pig squeaked and ran back to Angel Dust’s room. Sir Pentious slithered to catch up to the mad fish scientist, his Egg Boiz chattering excitedly behind him. The inventors seethed at each other as they made their way through the crowd of demons. They made it to the black podium stand near the clocktower, where Vox stood with the sign-up papers in front of him.

Vox revealed a grin of cyan teeth. “Sir Pentious! Baxter! How lovely to see you two fine gentlemen today.”

“How do you know my name, TV man?” barked Baxter as he scribbled his name and invention onto the paper.

“I know things,” Vox leaned in. “Quite simple, really.” With one last flip of the bird to the serpent, Baxter ran off with his invention, trying to find a spot away from the dense crowds.

Then Vox sneered at Sir Pentious. “So, the failure spy has come back to see me. Don’t expect any praise.”

Sir Pentious looked off to the side and wrote down his name and invention in the contestant slot for the Pride Ring.

“What makes you think you can win this expo, after you could barely follow through with your task?” Vox asked, his eye moving in hypnotic circles.

Sir Pentious hissed, standing up straighter. “You don’t know my strengths, you talking picture box! When I reveal my most vile, diabolical device of doom, even you will shit your pants!”

Vox scoffed. ���I’d like to see you try!”

“I’ve been in Hell for a long time!”

“So long, I think your gears are rusted,” Vox snickered.

“I’ll be the best inventor there is, and nothing will stop me! Not that fish freak, not you, not that stupid hotel pig of theirs.”

“Wait, pig you say?” Vox asked, eyebrow raised.

“A pet owned by that spider sex creep, Angel drug something.”

Vox paused and an evil gleam sparked to life in his eyes. “Interesting. Whatever you say.”

Sir Pentious huffed as he and his minions continued on toward the convention. Vox grinned evilly. “You’ve actually been quite helpful this time, Pentious…”

Vox held up his phone and tapped it with electricity from his finger.

“Vox?” came Velvette’s voice.

“Hey Velvette, baby, I have a little job for you…”

0 0 0

Charlie and Vaggie sat in the parlor worrying about Angel, Sir Pentious, and Baxter.

Charlie put her face in her hands. “They’re gonna cause more trouble with those weapons at the expo! I can’t afford to lose my clients!”

“That’s it. We have to go after them!” Vaggie said. “At least keep an eye on them.” Vaggie looked at Husk. “Hey, lazy cat, you’re coming too!”

“Getting pulled into these shitty adventures for crying out loud,” Husk groaned.

“What about Alastor?” Charlie asked.

Vaggie watched as Alastor leaned against the wall and smiled before fading into the shadows.

“Forget it,” Vaggie said. “He only likes to watch us fight and fail.”

No one noticed a slender figure outside dressed in black with a hood decorated with a pink <3 heart at the top. The figure tossed a grappling hook, and it caught on the edge of a slot where a window was. The figure climbed the rope and then pulled open the window. She stood inside Angel Dust’s room, a menacing slender figure with magenta glowing eyes and an evil grin. Fat Nuggets was drinking from a bowl of water. A shadow hovered over the pig. The pig turned to the side with wide surprised eyes.

A loud shrieking demonic squeal rang through the hall. Niffty was finishing dusting a vase and then froze.

“What was that?”

She darted over toward the source of the sound. She arrived at Angel’s door, where it was decorated with neon pink hearts and pictures of Angel Dust, Husk, and the girls. She opened the door but could only see an open window and a figure running off into the distance with something struggling in a sack.

Niffty raced down the stairs and over to the girls, a worried expression on her face. “Charlie! Vaggie!”

“What is it, Niffty?” Vaggie asked.

Niffty huffed. “I-I heard a loud squeal and I think the pig is gone!”

“What pig?” asked Vaggie. “One of Baxter’s monsters?”

“No! A pet! I think someone stole it!”

Husk then sat up with wider eyes. “Angel Dust’s pig?”

Niffty nodded.

Charlie gasped. “Oh no! Fat Nuggets! I completely forgot about him!”

Vaggie stood up, holding her spear. “How did someone get into the hotel?!”  She seethed. “I swear if Alastor is up to this…”

“We don’t know that,” Charlie said. “Maybe…Fat Nuggets just ran away after Angel Dust!”

“That pig always stays at the hotel and near Angel’s room,” said Husk. He glowered. “I’m afraid Nif may be right.”

Everyone looked worried.

“Angel Dust’ll be heart-broken!” Charlie cried. “We have to save his pet!”

“And stop those mad geniuses from causing any more trouble!” Vaggie added. “Buckle up, Sinners, we’re going to an expo.”

“You know Charlie’s not a Sinner, right?” Husk said.

“I know that!” Vaggie roared.

“Oooh, I can’t wait to see some more bad boys!” Niffty giggled, twirling her sewing needle.

“Keep an eye on her, “Vaggie said to Husk. Husk groaned as Niffty briefly tugged on one of Husk’s cat ears.

Vaggie glared at Klein and several robot minions holding small tasers. “Robot, guard the hotel.”

“At your service, Vagatha,” Klein replied, doing a robotic salute. “Bring back a victorious Master Baxter!”

“No promises,” Vaggie called as she, Charlie, Husk, and Niffty headed outside toward the convention.

0 0 0

Vox stood proudly in his usual suit outfit, broadcasting his expo live on TVs throughout Hell. He grinned as he saw more demons attending and his VoxTech views climbing every minute.

“Helluva hello, filthy demons of all ages! Welcome to Hell’s one of a kind weapons expo! We have a horde of contestants from all over Hell’s Rings and we’re very excited to see all their deadly weapons! But first, this expo is sponsored by VoxTech’s Angelic Security, the ultimate protection app for any extermination! Buy and upload today!”

The crowd cheered, already hypnotized by Vox’s words. Vox pressed a button, and through electricity, everyone was transported to a nearby park with more room for the show.

“Let’s meet today’s judges. Give it up for our old guy Zestial!”

The elder black spider-like Overlord demon wearing long black robes and wearing a tall black top hat gazed at the crowd with several green eyes on a black spider-like face. He took his place at a tall table with screens at the front to allow him to see the various inventions. The table was covered with a white cloth stained with red and black blood.

“Zeezi!”

A pink giant dinosaur Overlord lady with wild colorful hair and a tail stomped over to her spot at the judges’ table.

“The head judge Carmilla Carmine herself!”

The angelic weapons dealer strode forward to her spot at the center of the table. She was a slender woman with sharp white angelic ballet shoes pointed like weapons. Her face was light gray, and she wore a dark gray mask around her reddish eyes. One bang of her hair was black. She had white hair and pointed horns on her head with thin black stripes. Her hair ended in small curls near her black hoop earrings. Her hands were giant and white with black nails. She wore long black leggings with white crisscross designs, a black top and her dress ended in sharp pointed ends like sword points. Her two daughters Odette and Clara wandered around, looking at several other inventions and writing on their clipboards.

“And Carmilla’s secret assistant, Charlie Carmine!”

Another woman took her spot next to Carmilla. She had tall red high-heel boots decorated with barbed wire, dark red pants, a red dress with dark red stripes on it and red goggles on her head. She had long red hair and large red eyes with small black pupils. Her skin was white, but her left hand was giant and red with a gear on it. Her arm was made of molten lava and could shapeshift. She looked like a fusion of Sir Pentious and Cherri Bomb, with an edgy steampunk look. Sir Pentious blushed when he spotted her face.

“Yeah, I didn’t know she existed either!” Vox admitted. “But she does the dirty work of melding the weapons with angelic essence for Carmine and her daughters to sell! Heard she died in the 1830s.”

Vox cleared his throat.

“And now…our contestants! Please come forward!”

Epic warrior music blared from the speakers as machines and electricity towered toward the city. The audience applauded and stepped back to allow more room. Through various colored portals in the red sky, demons descended downward with their diabolical dangerous devices!

“Here comes the not-so sloth, Sloth Ring!”

Floating gracefully from the Sloth Ring were four demons with the heads of goat and sheep. The first one had a pink goat’s head with a white candle with a pink flame on it. His name was Hypno. The second was a sheep that looked at peace, with a candle of a teal flame on her head: Zeezee. The third was a strong bull demon with long curved horns and a blue flame: Morphi. The last was a white sheep with a lavender candle on his head: Lulla. All four wore white doctor’s coats.

They landed on the ground before the crowds.

“Greetings, fellow Prides,” sang Hypno the leader. “We present our amazing invention sure to keep you content…for a long time!”

Hypnos and Morphi held up a long pink ray gun which read “Deep Sleep Dreams,” in light pink. “Fly high, folks!” sang Lulla.

Zeezee pressed a button and teal beams of hypnotic rays pulsed over toward the crowd. Many demons instantly swayed and had drugged happy looks on their faces as distorted lullaby music played.

“We have your favorite drugs and substances flowing in our machine! We can mimic any drug of your choice!” sang Hypnos. “Ecstasy, crack, meth, angel dust, you name it!” He mentioned to the various glowing substances in the see-though veins of the device.

“Did somebody call me?!” Angel Dust called out from the background.

With an evil grin on his face, Hypnos pressed more buttons. Various colored rays shot out, causing the demons nearest to the device to laugh uncontrollably, fight each other, fall asleep, scream in agony, or drop dead completely.

There was a rather sleepy round of applause as the judges examined their device, Carmine’s daughters careful not to get too close.

“A sleep ray? Boring!” Sir Pentious dramatized.

“Don’t get lazy! Cast your votes now!” Vox began with a fake yawn. He cleared his throat.

“Don’t get too jealous, but the Envy Ring is next!”

A gush of ocean water spilled out from the purple portal and a triad of aquatic demons with many eyes morphed before the audience. Three demons stood before them, one blue, one green, and one teal. Their names were Shimmer, Glimmer, and Swimmer. Swimmer was a teal female, Glimmer was a green female creature, and Shimmer was the blue male leader. They were all slender with fish fins, eyes all over their bodies and their arms like tentacles. They wore clothing made of fish scales. Underwater otherworldly music played.

“Land-dwellers!” sang Shimmer. “Prepare to meet your watery end!”

Shimmer held out a large golden trident and pressed a button. The prongs extended and each turned into different things. The first one morphed into a golden sword that shot out to stab some demons before being retracted back into the device via a rope. The second prong opened up to a hole that fired fish nets that electrocuted several captured demons. The final metallic prong in the middle opened up and fired acidic water onto more demons, melting them instantly. Swimmer grabbed a struggling pink demon and held him in front of her partner. Glimmer held a smaller blue gun to the demon’s face and open mouth that sucked out all the water in the pink demon’s body, causing dehydration. The pink shriveled demon dropped dead at their feet. More applause.

“Big deal,” Baxter scoffed. “I’m the ultimate water creature!” He grinned and held his small sea serpent in a jar.

“Water you waiting for? Cast your votes!” Vox chuckled.  “Time to get aroused by the sexy folk from Lust!”

Seductive club music played as a horde of pink succubi and incubi with small bat wings and BDSM clothing descended down from the dark blue portal. The group was called XXXtreme, and they had various names: Phallo, Booby, Clitora, Lubey, Vaga, among others. They did seductive dancing around poles and displayed phallus shaped torpedoes, cannons, and guns. One succubus fired a gun that shot out condoms and sex toys that exploded. Another one of their weapons shot out acid semen and noxious gas. And, of course, there were love potions.

“Oh, yeah, I’m gettin’ hot already!” Vox chuckled.

“These performing inventors are going for the green! Give it up for Greed!”

Circus music blared as a group of performers danced and flipped out of the green portal. Six demons dressed like jesters came down to the ground: The Fearsome Freaks. One jester wearing a striped skirt balanced on a ball, juggling rainbow bombs before tossing them into the air. The bombs exploded into fireworks as the audience cheered. A large shirtless tan male demon spun a pole into the air, the two ends lit with green flames that gradually turned red. After spinning the pole, he popped a flaming sword into his mouth before spitting it out at several bystanders.

“We feed on Greed! We feed on Greed! Glory is all we need!” sang the Greed contestants.

A third performer female hollered war cries as she rode a demonic elephant covered with green armor, the many-eyed gray beast trampling more screaming demons. She also fired a gun accurately at several dummy targets as she balanced upside down. The fourth performer threw angelic knives at targets with his eyes closed. The fifth spun through the air, firing fiery bullets through the air in a spectacular dance. The sixth one just stood under a green spotlight telling bad weapon jokes.

“What is Satan’s favorite gun? A caliber 6.6.”

“Bravo, bravo!” Vox clapped as the bloodstained performers bowed.

“Show-offs,” muttered Sir Pentious.

Vox continued. “Sickenly sweet with plenty to eat! Here comes Gluttony!”

Through the yellow-gold portal came four muscular Hellhounds, who howled in triumph as they came down to the ground as club music blasted in every direction.

“Let’s get this party started, hooligans!” chorused the black Hellhound leader, who had named his group the Hellhound Hooligans. Bael was the back hound leader, and he carried a black electric guitar that shot out deadly electricity at demons whenever he played it. All the Hellhounds wore colorful party clothes, boots, jeans, and torn shirts.

“Taste the honey, fuckers!” sang an excited tan Hellhound, Bella, who held a large cannon that fired alcohol bottles of intoxicating honey at the crowd, who reached out for them in excitement. The demons danced and dodged more attacks from the contestants, including Beezi the white female Hellhound’s very explosive bomb pies and poisonous pink cotton candy. Bubba the brown hound laughed and demonstrated her flips and tricks, using an axe on a chain to swing at various demons.

“Don’t be late to the party…vote now!” called Vox.

“They make me sick to my stomach,” Baxter remarked.

“Y’all know the roughest, toughest warriors in Hell, they’re all the rage in Wrath!” called Vox.

There was a roaring of cheers and western rock music as a dozen Wrath Ring imps charged from an orange portal, riding on stallions with flaming manes. The Wrathful West Warlords were one of the finest fighter groups and blacksmiths in all of Hell and it was easy to see why. Two muscular imps wearing cowboy hats led from the front on motorcycles, wearing spiked armor.

Following the two imps were four other males who came toward the audience and showed off their angelic weapons. One held two broad swords that had been forged in the volcanos in Wrath. Another showed off a mace that shot out spikes as he swung it around. A third imp drove a large black tank into the park and a fourth imp did a presentation of various torture devices. A dozen more imps wearing cowboy hats, knight armor, samurai armor or general uniforms, danced in a line as they flaunted their well-crafted destructive tools. Maces, swords, knives, throwing stars, cannons, katanas, cutlasses, revolvers, rifles, bombs…Wrath Ring had every kind of weapon from all kinds of time periods at their disposal!

“Nothing beats classic war anger!” said Vox. “Vote, vote, vote!”

“And finally, here come our proud Sinner contestants from right here in Pride!”

As royal music with a circus flair briefly played, the audience gasped in awe as the contestants were announced.

“SIR PENTIOUS!”

“BAXTER!”

“ANGEL DUST!”

“CHERRI BOMB!”

“CRYMINI!”

“LOOPTY GOOPTY!”

“LYLE LIPTON!”

The seven Sinners came forward, revealing their masterpiece inventions. They sang as their inventions were analyzed and tested. Vox was enjoying all the chaos and calamity.

“Sinners! Cower before me!”  Sir Pentious sang.

“When this day is done, you all will adore me!

My new zeppelin is running and here!

The Soulslayer 20,000 is your new worst fear!”

The new zeppelin hovered in the air; now black with the outer shell made of snake scales. The windows were red, and the weapons extended from an opening in the front of the ship that looked like a serpent’s mouth. There was even a large black hat structure that was added on top of the ship with a round window at the top that allowed for more surveillance. Sir Pentious laughed evilly as the Egg Boiz inside fired the cannons. Several destructive blasts shot out from the extended cannons in the zeppelin, razing parts of the city.

“Not so fast, fool of the past!” Baxter fired back in song.

“For my day of glory is here at last!

Brace yourselves for Destructo Doombot,

Initiate the Baxter Blast!”

Baxter laughed manically and pressed a button. A giant blue robot with slender flexible legs and six weaponized arms towered onto the scene. The robot fired a wide range of blasts, shooting acidic water onto the buildings.

Charlie, Vaggie, Husk, and Niffty raced as fast as they could toward the park. They narrowly avoided a falling roof and a water splash several feet away. The asphalt street cracked and crumbled before them.

“This is mayhem madness!” Vaggie cried in song. “The city’s gonna blow! I knew we shouldn’t have let them go! If we don’t get them back to the hotel…things will not end well!”

“I think we can still reason with them, it’ll be fine,” Charlie sang back before her eyes widened, “There’s not much time!”

“Stab! Stab! Stab!” Niffty trilled in song.

“Vox doesn’t care for the city at all. He’ll gladly grab at money and see us fall,” Vaggie added in anger.

“Any ridicule from Vox…Sir Pentious cannot take it. Just a little further…we can make it!” Charlie huffed.

“All this running around, I’ve had enough,” Husk growled.

“Bad boys so strong and tough!” Niffty grinned.

Angel Dust posed with several guns in his hands on stage. Vox scoffed.

“Another one bites the Angel Dust!” Angel Dust grinned in song, striking a pose. “Bang, bang!” He held a small gun and squeezed a button. A small flag came out of the slot which read “Eat my dust.” Several of Angel Dust’s porn fans swooned and cheered. “Come too close and get caught in my web.” One of his guns fired a pink spider web, capturing several winged demons. “I can fuck hard and fight hard,” he smirked. He grew six arms and fired his weapons all at the same time, earning more cheers and claps from the crowd.

Cherri Bomb and Crymini posed together, each holding a bomb in their hands. Cherri Bomb had white skin and a single cyclops eye. She wore a pink tank top with xs on it, one of her white shoulders revealed. She had torn black pants and tall pink high heel boots. Her hair was blonde with pink highlights done in a ponytail. Crymini the hyena Sinner grinned next to Cherri Bomb, her fur white and dark pink. Her eyes were yellow with pink iris. She wore a spiky black collar, and a short pink dress with a white skull on it. Her legs were spotted, one had black stripes and one had pink spots. She also had a thick pink and white tail that matched her thick long bangs of hair near her pointed ears. 

“Dames of destruction, relish in the arson,” Cherri Bomb began, tossing a pink bomb that exploded into pink smoke in the sky. She brandished a small metal shooter that fired sticks of dynamite into the distance that let out more explosions.

“Never afraid to make our mark,” Crymini added in song, as she sprayed red graffiti onto a nearby wall that read, “BAD BITCHEZ RULE THE WORLD!”

“Rebellious streak hotter than Hell’s center,” Cherri Bomb grinned, doing spectacular flips, and fighting poses. She and Angel Dust posed side by side and grinned.

“We say ‘bomb’s away,’ to our blown-to-bits foes,” Crymini harmonized, using a torch like a paintbrush to create flaming designs and words in different colors on the ground: “ROCK YOUR SOCKS OFF!”

Sir Pentious blushed in secret as Cherri Bomb threw one final bomb behind her that exploded in pink smoke. He had never seen a woman so tough, so rambunctious…and so beautiful before…at least not during his time in Hell. Cherri Bomb had spunk and despite being an annoying rival…Sir Pentious couldn’t help but feel there was something more…

At the same time Crymini and Cherri Bomb finished, two rival Sinner inventors rolled and spiraled onto the scene. The two men glared at each other, but still seemed to work together, if not to prove themselves better than everyone else.

“I am Loopty Goopty, dastardly inventor of all things loopy and loopish!”

A tall slender demon arrived, riding on a spiral of black metal loops, almost as if they were extensions of himself. He wore tall lime green boots and a black suit with a green color on his waist and a green upward spiral on the chest. He had a red cape and red gloves on his hands. He had wavy tall red horns on his head, red skin, a long nose, and a cliche villain black mustache. He also had a black top hat with a green rim and green hypnotic goggles over his eyes.

Lyle Lipton rolled into action, wearing a green suit with a red undershirt, black sleeves, and green gloves. He revealed a grin of piano teeth and a wavy white mustache obscured part of his light green face. He wore a small black top hat with a red rim and red hypnotic goggles. The lower half of him was black with red stripes…he had no legs but could roll fast to get around.

“I am Lyle Lipton, experimenter of the poor and inventor of endless youth!”

The two Sinners posed in front of their zeppelin ship.

“Look at my loops!” sang the eccentric Loopty Goopty, reaching his hand to swing himself from building to building. He danced and spun in his own spirals before coming back to the ground.

“React to my rolls!” added Lyle Lipton as he crashed through walls unharmed with his speedy rolling body. “Face the music, demons! I have achieved supervillain strength!”

“We shall bring glory to ourselves and be heralded as your vile saviors!” Loopy Goopy added, arms extended, grabbing demons and squeezing them. “For we are dead but cannot die!”

“So that makes you like Frankenstein,” Lyle Lipton said to him. “An eccentric loopy zombie.”

Loopty Goopty paused and turned to him. “Says you, piano man! You got owned by a piano and now you roll in your own ego.”

“At least I didn’t get killed by my own invention!” Lyle Lipton fired back.

“Oh, the heat is on, folks!” Vox called as he relished their arguments. “Let’s see what the judges have to say.”

The judges first looked at the Sloth Ring inventions combined with the votes.

“Good for drug parties, otherwise…nay,” Zestial remarked.

“SUPER COOL!” remarked the dinosaur Overlord.

“Needs more gore,” Charlie Carmine remarked.

Carmilla Carmine said, “Okay inventions but I sense a rather…lazy effort.”

“On to Envy!” called Vox.

“I thinketh the design creative but too confined to water,” Zestial said.

“A GOLDEN TRIDENT WITH WEAPONS INSIDE? WHAT A FINTASTIC CLASSIC!” exclaimed the dinosaur, banging her fists on the table.

“Eh, not bad,” said Charlie Carmine.

“No angelic power and a half-assed display of bravado,” remarked Carmilla Carmine in disapproval.

“Lust!” called Vox.

“Eweth,” Zestial remarked with a disgusted look.

“AROUSING AND DEADLY! I LOVE IT!” smiled the dinosaur.

“Kinda pathetic. Not steampunk enough,” remarked Charlie Carmine.

“Yeah…no,” said a disgusted Carmilla Carmine. “Save your tools for the bedroom.”

“Greed!” Vox continued.

“A circus performance doth not equal true brutality. Maketh more war-like,” Zestial commented.

“CIRCUS PERFORMANCE WAS DYNAMIC AND WILD! ENCORE, ENCORE!” stomped the dinosaur lady.

“Indeed, very creative,” said Charlie Carmine, “But still not my favorite style.”

“Like clowns playing with toys and lacking cold strategy,” Carmilla Carmine scoffed.

“Gluttony!”

“A shooter that fires drugs, food, and alcohol…a fruitless child’s toy on the battlefield,” said Zestial. “Thou should be ashamed.”

“WHOO! PARTY WEAPONS AND INCREDIBLE BOMBS! DO MORE!” cheered the dinosaur Overlord.

“Boring,” said Charlie Carmine. “Needs more sharpness and less blinding colors. Though…I would like that recipe for the rotten candy.”

“Juvenile and ill-crafted,” said Carmilla Carmine.

“Wrath!”

“Me thinketh thou imps put on a spectacular show. A classic example of the grace, brutality, and effectiveness of war and thine culture,” remarked a pleased Zestial.

“YES! YES! CAN I JUST SAY YES!” beamed the dinosaur Overlord.

“Are you really approving everything?” asked a skeptical Charlie Carmine. “But yes, I very much approve their work.”

“Very impressive, fine craftsmanship,” Carmilla Carmine said in approval for the first time. “Just tone down the wrath…a lot.”

The board read:

Sloth: 12

Envy: 13

Lust: 8

Greed: 16

Gluttony: 10

Wrath: 20

“And…Pride!” announced Vox.

Sir Pentious and Baxter were tied. Loopty Goopty was in third place, Lyle Lipton was in fourth, Cherri Bomb was fifth, and Crymini was in sixth.

And then…

“The porn star is out,” Carmilla Carmine remarked, glancing down after Odette came up to her.

“What? Why?!” Angel Dust asked angrily as boos were heard.

“This is a weapons expo, not a porn show.”

“I gotta show off my stuff at some point. Look how good I am at fightin’!”

“You do have great skill, but I’ve seen better.”

Angel Dust slumped and walked off the stage just as Charlie, Vaggie, Husk, and Niffty reached him.

Angel Dust fumed after he spotted the small piece of paper that was in front of Carmilla Carmine that hadn’t been there before. On it was Vaggie’s handwriting: “I’m just after the prize money. – Angel Dust.” Vaggie had told Odette about a “really important customer inquiring about fighting techniques. Here is the number.”

Angel Dust wasn’t happy.

“Bitch!” he spat at Vaggie. “You made Carmilla drop me out!”

“We have to get you back to the hotel,” Vaggie said. “You could’ve used that money for more drugs! Or who knows how mad you’ve have gotten if you had stayed longer.”

“That prize money could’ve helped me pay off my debts to Val!”

“Well, thank goodness you’re okay!” Charlie said, wanting to change the subject.

Angel Dust glared. “What you ya mean, ‘thank goodness?!’ None of these people know true talent when they see it.”

“I told you that entering the contest was a bad idea,” Vaggie reprimanded. “Killing is not allowed for you anymore!”

Angel Dust shrugged, hands out. “I didn’t kill anyone! I swear!” Angel Dust glanced back at two wounded demons he had shot earlier. “Well maybe a little…”

“Hotel. Now,” Vaggie glared, pulling him along.

“Wait,” said Charlie. “Baxter and Sir Pentious!”

“What about ‘em?” Angel Dust asked.

“Look,” said Husk, pointing to the stage. Niffty had popcorn in her hands with an excited grin.

“The final feud is on, folks!” Vox announced. “After Wrath coming in second, we are down to our two finalists! Mad Inventor Sir Pentious and Mad Scientist Baxter!”

(“I’m The Sinner Winner!” song)

The two men pushed buttons on their own remotes and their battle inventions rumbled to life in the distance.

The crowd cheered and voted some more as the two Sinners glared daggers, put on their goggles, and began to clash. They were each lifted up by their minions, rising into the air. Like boys in battle suits, they comically exchanged punches and insults. The Egg Boiz stumbled and held each other’s hands, also trying to support their master. Several Egg Boiz broke the glass of a few Piscines, causing the biotic fish to spill out. But more Egg Boiz got cracked from metallic punches from the robots.

Sir Pentious and Baxter circled each other as the crowd watched. Sir Pentious briefly hypnotized Baxter, causing him to stumble and nearly lose his balance. But one shock from one of Baxter’s robots tazed the snake in the tail, allowing Baxter to snap out of the trance. In the background, the zeppelin and Baxter’s Destructo robot also fought each other. The giant robot tried to crush the warship in its metal hand, but a rapid barrage of bullets briefly blinded the giant Baxter-lookalike robot.

“I’m the Sinner Winner!” Sir Pentious and Baxter sang at the same time in a duel, seething.

“You may think you’re hot shit, but you’re just a beginner!”

“I’ll wipe the floor with your fishy face!” Sir Pentious hissed.

“Your slow brain cannot match my pace!” Baxter retorted.

“Cower before my steampunk splendor!” Sir Pentious grinned, gears grinding behind him. Charlie Carmine grinned in approval.

“Watch your confidence get mixed in a blender!” Baxter scoffed, shaking a flask of teal liquid that fizzed with steam. Carmilla Carmine facepalmed at the idiocy of Vox and the contest.

“Without my work, yours wouldn’t exist!” Sir Pentious sang.

“Mine is a recognizable improvement, I insist!” cackled Baxter.

“You weren’t even in the first season!”

“I enjoy being alone for a reason!”

“I should fire you again for treason!”

“In your body, I’ll add a lethal lesion!”

They both sang at the same time.

“I’m the Sinner Winner!”

“I’m the Sinner Winner!”

“You may think you’re hot shit, but you’re just a beginner!”

“You may think you’re hot shit, but you’re just a beginner!”

“I’ll make sure the ass anglerfish drowns once again!”

 “I’ll make sure the sissy shit snake gets roasted alive!”

“All will bow in my coils!”

“All will be my lab subjects!”

“And now I say, farewell mother…”

And now I say lebewohl you piece of…”

“STOP!” Charlie, Vaggie, Husk, and Niffty shouted at the same time. Charlie briefly flared in her demonic form before reverting back.

Baxter and Sir Pentious paused as Vox himself stepped onto the stage, slowly clapping.

At long last, both of their inventions groaned, fizzled, and collapsed at the same time. The zeppelin crashed and exploded to the ground in green smoke, while the robot slammed to the ground in an explosion of metal and teal light. Many demons flew backward from the force of the explosions. Charlie and the others ducked for cover, rising only when the smoke had cleared.

Baxter and Sir Pentious both slumped in disappointment and frustration as their minions gently lowered them to the ground and scampered off. They brushed themselves off and breathed hard.

“D-did I win?” Sir Pentious asked with a nervous grin.

“Congratulations to both of you!” Vox grinned, arms out. “That was an amazing performance! So incredible that I now have 6.6 billion views on VoxTube. Now, to determine the final winner. Sir Pentious…”

Sir Pentious gulped.

“Since you’re the oldest, you have the privilege of coming forward for your demonstration. I have examined one of your weapons and it appears to have transmutation powers?”

“Yes,” said Sir Pentious as Vox gave him his small gray gun with various settings on it. “It can turn things into monsters without having to grow them in a tank,” Sir Pentious smirked at Baxter. “But I have yet to make some modifications…”

“Too late for that,” said Vox. “Now’s the time to prove your worth! If you can successfully demonstrate the effectiveness of your weapon, you win the contest!”

Sir Pentious beamed, his eyes wide with tears. “Really?”

Vox nodded. “And gain my approval back! And win lots of money! And brag in Baxter’s face!” Baxter folded his arms.

Sir Pentious had an evil smirk on his face. His dream was coming true at last!

 “But if you lose, well…I guess I’ll have to ask Baxter to do it instead!”

Baxter grinned, but Sir Pentious folded his arms. “He won’t even get a chance!” Sir Pentious loaded his gun. “Let’s get started!”

“Whether it works or not, at least you can say you tried,” Vox said. “Yes,” said Sir Pentious, aiming the gun. Velvette appeared and pushed a cart forward with a cloth on it to Sir Pentious.

“I present to you…your test subject!” Vox grinned. “Begin!”

Velvette removed the cloth and underneath it was…

“FAT NUGGETS?!” Angel Dust cried in shock.

Sure enough, the pet pig was struggling and squealing on the table as his hooves were restrained by small chains.

“SIR PENTIOUS, DON’T!” Charlie yelled.

Sir Pentious looked taken aback. “The swine pet?” He pointed a finger. “So, it was you who stole the pig from the hotel!”

“All thanks to you mentioning it,” Vox smirked. Sir Pentious lowered his eyes as Vaggie and Angel Dust burned holes in his soul with their stares.

“Go ahead, snake man…turn this runt into a monster and you’ll be back to true Overlord status!”

“B-but I could kill him!”

“Who cares? You’ll still be rewarded no matter what, I promise!” persuaded Vox.

“Sir Pentious, don’t shoot,” Charlie pleaded.

“You kill my pet and I’ll make sure you’re double dead!” Angel Dust snarled at the snake, tears in his eyes. He aimed his gun at Vox, but Vox held up a hand. “Wouldn’t do good for Hell’s hottest porn star to strike an Overlord. Especially if my sexy buddy Val found out, heh?”

Angel Dust wavered, hands shaking on his weapon. He was at a standstill. If he were to attack Vox, Velvette could roast his beloved pet to bacon. Vox also grinned at the Hazbin crew. “So nice of you lowly has-beens to join us!”

“Stop trying to mock us and my hotel!” Charlie bared her teeth. “As the princess, I demand you to let Fat Nuggets go!” Vaggie gave her a proud look.

“No one in Hell listens to royalty,” Vox purred in a low voice, moving a menacing electric gloved finger toward Fat Nuggets. “One step and he’s toast.”

Sir Pentious’ eyes darted around, sweat beading his face. Velvette kicked one of his Egg Boiz for good measure.

“He’s trying to divide us so the hotel fails!” Charlie called. “You already said, ‘sorry.’ Now it’s time to act for the good of your friends!”

“We’re not friends,” Baxter stated.

“Stop ruining it!” Vaggie barked.

It was all up to Sir Pentious now.

Vox grinned. “You have no friends to begin with! So…what’s it gonna be, Sir Pentious? Wanna be the vilest villain you were destined to be? Or will you always be a good for nothing joke of a failure?”

The tension built as his hands shook holding the weapon. He stared into Angel Dust’s angry eyes, Charlie’s pleading ones, Vox’s hypnotic orbs…and the innocent sweet eyes of Fat Nuggets who gave him a somber look.

“I…I…”

Sir Pentious inched forward, closer and closer and closer…

“I think I’m gonna slip!”

He stumbled on his tail and fell forward onto the table. Velvette gasped as Sir Pentious nearly fell on top of Fat Nuggets. Sir Pentious and the wheeled cart rolled forward past Velvette and off the stage. Velvette fired rounds from her gun, but the bullets bounced off Sir Pentious harmlessly. Sir Pentious gave Baxter a look, pointing at the chains. Baxter nodded and fired a few blasts from a gun, breaking apart the chains and freeing the frightened Fat Nuggets.

“FUCK!” Vox roared as Sir Pentious held the pig close in his arms and raced over toward Angel Dust. More bullet blasts caused Sir Pentious to slow down, making him nearly drop the pig. Vaggie pointed her spear at Velvette, who had tried to grab Sir Pentious from behind. Sir Pentious tossed the pig to Angel Dust just as Vox tackled him to the ground. The crowd cheered and chanted, “Fight! Fight! Fight!” Fat Nuggets nuzzled into Angel Dust’s white fur and the spider demon sighed in relief.

Vox had Sir Pentious in a chokehold, but Baxter aimed one of his weapons at him.

“Back off, I say!”

Vox chuckled as he stood up. “Trying to save your own rival now?”

“The only one who can kill him…is me!” Baxter spat as Charlie helped Sir Pentious up. She and Vaggie supported him, his arms on their shoulders as the Egg Boiz lifted his lower serpent body.

 Vox stood up. He and Velvette soon found themselves outnumbered by the Hazbins. Carmilla Carmine also looked at him in disapproval. Vox stared nervously at the cameras. “Sorry about this interruption, folks! Due to unplanned circumstances, I officially declare the winner of this weapons expo to be…ME!”

Vox posed as the golden VoxTech Angelic Security logo appeared on the screen. “Because let’s face it, the greatest weapon of all is the one used on the mind, ears, and eyes…the most subtle weapon of all! Magnificent media! Horray for me!”

Many demons cheered while several others booed. Cherri Bomb and Crymini took a selfie together, posing as explosions and flames flashed in the background. Crymini had managed to snatch some of the prize money. They labeled their Voxtagram photo with #BestWeaponsExpoEver. The brave demons who avoided the chaos exchanged tools and inventions. Some took selfies with the various scientists and inventors, grinning when they got their creations signed by them.

“YOU FRAUD!” yelled Lyle Lipton and Loopty Goopy to Vox. “You stole our victory!” Vox mentioned for one of his managers to stop the Hazbins. Vox fled the scene in a flash of electricity, leaving Velvette to run to her pink and purple fancy car on foot. She zoomed away, barely escaping the enraged inventors.

“Take that, shark fiend!” Baxter shouted as one of Vox’s managers rushed at him with a taser.

Baxter hit the manager with his cactus juice ray, making him drop the taser. He began dancing like a chicken and saying everything he hated about Vox…live on TV. “Vox wants Alastor to notice him!” “Voot Floop cereal is overrated!” (No one ever saw him again after that.)

“Let’s get outta here!” called Angel Dust, holding Fat Nuggets in his arms.

“What happened, Sir Pentious?” asked Charlie.

“I…uh…sorta tripped…on purpose.”

Husk grinned. “Clever trick, kid. Wasn’t expecting that from you.”

Charlie gave Sir Pentious a hug and he winced a bit. “I knew you had a good heart!”

There was a sudden roar and a shaking of the ground. The Hazbins slowly looked up. Demons screamed and scrambled away as Baxter’s blue sea monster towered over them. The monster let out a thunderous screech and promptly crunched a screaming demon in its mouth. 

“BAXTER!” Vaggie raged.

“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT SO MANY EXPLOSIONS WOULD ALLOWIT TO ESCAPE FROM THE JAR?” he yelled over the noise.

“SHRINK IT BEFORE IT DEVOURS US ALL!” Charlie yelped, stepping back.

But then Niffty jumped up and down. “I HAVE A GREAT IDEA!”

“What, Niffty?” Husk asked.

The Hazbins soon found themselves screaming and riding on the scaly back of the many-eyed monster as it slithered back to the hotel.

“THIS IS FUCKING INSANE, NIFFTY!” Charlie cried, holding on for dear life.

Baxter was using his pulsing esca to guide the beast as much as he could. Husk, Vaggie, a hurt Sir Pentious, and Charlie screamed as they bobbled up and down, nearly falling off. “WHEEE!” cried Niffty in excitement as Baxter cackled at the front near the monster’s head. Baxter hollered, “I KNEW MY INVENTIONS WOULD COME IN HANDY!”

The Egg Boiz got to work stitching up Sir Pentious’ wounds, while the Piscine Machines helped keep the serpent calm, using telepathic communication through their escas.

“Angel,” Sir Pentious said, in a softer voice. “I don’t expect you to forgive me after my spying on you and almost losing your pig…”

Angel Dust shot him an angry look.

“…but I sincerely apologize for my selfish behavior. No more showing off weapons from now on…”

Vaggie smiled.

“…at least in public.”

Vaggie’s face briefly fell but she shrugged. She figured that Sir Pentious would continue to improve.

“I’m proud of you, Pentious,” Charlie said.

“I’m a loser,” he said, dejectedly.

“No, you’re not,” she comforted. “You saved Fat Nuggets and hopefully learned your lesson with Baxter. Plus, you stood your ground against Vox. That was amazing!” Vaggie nodded in approval as well.

Baxter and Sir Pentious folded their arms, but they no longer argued.

“Hey, why’d you save Sir Pentious from Vox?” asked Husk to Baxter.

“Vox just made me mad,” Baxter claimed. “I don’t care about Sir Pentious.”

“Perhaps you admit I have some prowess,” said Sir Pentious.

Baxter scratched his neck. “Well…yeah…that was pretty clever what you did to save the pig.”

Sir Pentious beamed.

“Well, both of you technically lost the expo contest…” Vaggie said.

“I think it was a tie,” said Charlie, trying to cheer them up.

Baxter sighed. “Well since we both lost our inventions and perhaps our lives…perhaps I will refrain from quarrelling with you.”

“Same,” said Sir Pentious.

Charlie smiled.

“But that doesn’t mean we’re friends!” Baxter spat.

“Wholeheartedly agree with you!” Sir Pentious snapped.

“Wonderful, Baxter! You’re improving also!” Charlie exclaimed.

“Finally something you two can agree on,” remarked Husk.

Vaggie sighed, glancing at Charlie’s hopeful eyes again. “If you guys promise not to leave the hotel or cause any more trouble, you may stay.”

Baxter and Sir Pentious smiled.

“But you both have to do your part to clean and defend the hotel. Plus the redemption part.”

“I shall do my very best!” declared Sir Pentious.

“And shrink this beast for good when we get back,” ordered Vaggie to Baxter.

Baxter sighed. “Okay. I’ll do my part too…as long as I don’t have to participate in Charlie’s superficial social sessions too much. Or Angel Dust’s sleazy acts.”

“It’s a deal,” said Vaggie.

Niffty raced down the beast’s side and snatched a pink smoothie from a pair of demons at a table. She climbed back up, the bottom of the glass in her mouth before scouting closer to Baxter. “You know…I’ve been interested in more of your inventions.” She held out her smoothie to him. “Can you… tell me more?”

Baxter looked at the smoothie. “Where did you get that?!”

“Want some?” Niffty slurped from one of the straws.

“Yuck! Who knows who ate it!”

“We’ll be great friends, someday, I just know it! You’re just so…slippery.” She giggled.

“Niffty,” groaned Husk as the beast headed back to the hotel as the sun set.

Vox sat in his studio again, Velvette behind him, screens glowing in the dark.

 Vox furrowed his eyebrows. “I was so close to getting my views to be the highest in all of Hell! I almost brought that hotel down, would’ve been hilarious to see Angel Dust heartbroken! I knew I should’ve slaughtered that swine when I had the chance!” He slammed a fist. He narrowed his eyes as he saw the news: “Drama At Hell’s Weapon’s Expo! Vox’s Embarrassing Secrets?! Plus, Snake And Fish, Who Would You Smash?”

“Well, we still have plenty of tricks up our sleeves,” said Velvette. “Hell will eventually belong to us completely…it’ll just take time.”

“I’ll make sure no Sinners will ever be redeemed in that dump. No one will ever leave Hell, especially from me. When I’m through with that little princess and her rag tag bitches, every Sinner in Pentagram City will be hanging on to every word I say for eternity!”

Vox grinned evilly, his eyes glowing red and his teeth glowing cyan in the darkness.

[kawaiilizzie]

Trivia - Yumeko

I cannot thank Tale of @tokuteasings​ enough for all the love she’s shown for my OC content. Now we’re entering the antagonists of this AU with the only known bearer of the Nimcha alias, Yumeko, played by FRUITS ZIPPER’s Suzuka Chinzei! GIF might be unrelated but it’s the best ‘dreamy clouds’ GIF I could find.

Warnings: Spoilers for Saber, and some implied self-esteem issues depending on perspective.

Her name is read with the kanji for ‘dream rainbow’ (夢虹) in reference to her elemental powers as Nimcha.

Artemis had established a group of hunters to help her watch over the Sword of Logos and assist in their battles, one of them was Yumeko. She didn't like being on the same level as all the other hunters, she wanted to be the strongest. Fortunately for her, the Seiken of Dreams and its Seirei, Yuna gave her that wish.

One day, Artemis organized a battle royale training section for her hunters which Yumeko saw as her chance to prove herself as the strongest. With Artemis watching, she transformed, catching the others off guard, and by the time anyone could register what was happening, Yumeko had slaughtered all the hunters.

Artemis, shocked by this turn of events, snapped at Yumeko. She was outraged that one of her own hunters would use the Seiken's power for nefarious purposes and personal gain and decided to fight her own hunter turned traitor herself. Though Yumeko put up quite a fight, she was unable to overcome the Arch Seirei.

With her former huntress defeated and weakened, Artemis sealed her inside a magic crystal known as the Moonlight Diamond. Artemis knew that Yuna would help Yumeko break free eventually, but she could only keep watching over the Sword of Logos via her human form as Yukari and hope that Yuna will realize what damage she was potentially causing.

She manages to escape the Moonlight Diamond in the present day and isn't too happy about being sealed away, making her more than willing to fight anyone and teaming up with Bahato and Naiko if it meant proving herself the strongest.

She first appears as one of the main antagonists along with Bahato in the Winter film, which I’d like to call ‘The Demon Swordsmen and the Book of Ruin’.

Being sealed in the Moonlight Diamond has given her longevity she never expected. Because of this, she's pretty out of the loop to modern day things when she escaped.

She is left without her powers after the events of the film, with Yuna and the Madoromu’s whereabouts unknown until Bahato’s debut episode where she regains those powers.

Initially, she has a bit of an advantage over Kaede in terms of strength. However, Kaede was able to grow even more powerful and her ice magic proved too much for Yumeko and her magic to overcome.

She is capable of creating illusions, including replicas of herself, which are hard to break out of. She also has a connection to lotus flowers, her finishers often creating one out of excess magic energy.

She once agreed to an arm-wrestling contest with some local 'tough guys', not knowing what it was. Long story short, her superhuman strength broke the table that was being used along with the men's pride.

When she had Kaede at her mercy, Shion showed up to protect Kaede, grabbing Fubuki to deflect what was meant to be the killing blow from Madoromu. She confesses her feelings while doing so, to Kaede's surprise and admiration.

During the betrayal arc, Yumeko saw Reika's lies to the SoL Riders as an opportunity to get rid of one of the swordsmen and decided to make a temporary alliance, in which they had a "common enemy" before Kaede stepped in.

A scene in the Winter film where after Yumeko is defeated and her stuff knocked away, at the end credits, the viewer sees Yuna's eyes shoot open saying "It was never that easy... Now was it?"

She is killed alongside Bahato in the lead up to Xross Saber’s debut at the hands of an unhenshined Kaede. She has a change of heart in her final moments, realizing that everyone has their own views on strength and that Kaede's stems from her bonds with her friends and Shion's true love for her. She is frozen by Kaede's ice magic and shatters into icy sparkles, creating a beautiful spectacle for everyone else present.

Yuna and the Madoromu fall under the care of the Sword of Logos so that way there won't be another Yumeko.

[secretly-a-polar-bear]

Alright adding more to the character I’m creating and probably won’t do any legitimate writing with, why? Because the notes app doesn’t give criticism.

Here’s the link if you want context

For convenience I’ll refer to the host as nymph and the parasite as Jerry. I’m going to describe some visuals because while I would like to see how the community takes this character, I do have my own ideas of how the character looks and acts. I think nymph has some pretty long bangs, like to the point where it’s covering her eyes. I like to think that when Jerry is in control her bangs are only covering the eye that’s not there. And when nymph has her time to be in control her eyes are just covered.

Imma start off with nymph’s personality before Jerry. I see her as a little oblivious, like not the dumbest bitch ever. She knows basic things and how to survive. I think being a stripper has made her far more aware of innuendoes than what the oblivious description would suggest. A smidge naive would be the best to describe her biggest personality trait. I hesitate to say a coward but doesn’t have the ability to actually do the murdering herself. I think nymph’s knowledge lies primarily in emotional intelligence. I think as time goes on with being a host to Jerry, she definitely goes crazy do the point of accepting her fate as a host. Jerry suppresses her a lot so I can imagine that internal battle has a lot of sleepless nights for the both of them. I think both Jerry and nymph are both blunt, of course has different approaches to telling it as it is.

Jerry is very cruel. He’s very quiet but you definitely feel that superiority complex radiating off of him. Jerry definitely leans into that femme fatal personality that you would’ve expected nymph to have. Both Jerry and nymph make sex jokes, but Jerry is more aggressive with it. Jerry is very violent with his victims, literally tearing them apart. He’s a very picky parasite. I think Jerry stays up for a very long time, the only time Jerry sleeps is if it was a very exhausting day and nymph was really fighting hard that month.

Speaking of the fight for control, I suppose it’s time to mention the rare times nymph gains control. It’s very rare actually, Jerry has been doing the parasite thing for a LONG time so of course his stamina is insane but even a likely supernatural parasite has its limits. Human souls aren’t very strong and break easily, especially when you have a parasite slowly eating it. So when Jerry sleeps nymph is also likely tuckered out. But occasionally she has some energy left but the control over her body lasts about an hour at most.

Since it’s bound to happen slenderman does take them in, slenderman does encounter to Jerry first. Now why does slendy bring in a parasite that could attack the others and him? Well why does he bring in murders everyday? I think slendy sees the creeps as guard dogs. The relationship feels how media shows a rich man’s relationship with his guard dogs. He doesn’t care for them really, but does keep them because they protect him. And the best part of this dog is that it feeds itself and gets rid of the corpses. That forest can only be dug into so much. Now why does the crazy parasite go to live in a mansion with other people? Well Jerry can’t work a job (yes I’m having that moment where nymph wakes up at the stage surrounded by bodies as Jerry’s attempt to work) and Jerry can only eat so many of the landlords and cops before there’s a shoot out and he gets killed. So free home and free opportunity to get food that isn’t his host? Perfect.

Now what about nymph gaining control and the creeps being around, causing her to freak out? I hear you, I think nymph does freak out but so do the other creeps, so they knock her out. And when Jerry comes to, all of the creeps are staring at them waiting for an explanation but Jerry doesn’t explain what happened because he was sleeping and doesn’t know what he did. Eventually nymph and the creeps get used to each other but since most of the interaction nymph has with a being is Jerry, she keeps to herself so she doesn’t anger them and gets herself killed. When she wants to give input she’ll write it down or something. I’m not exaggerating when I say she rarely gets control like the creeps aren’t able to build a connection with her, and Jerry is definitely giving her trust issues. Anyone that can live with that THING can’t be trusted anymore than the parasite itself.

Before I head out imma give a reason why nymph calls the parasite Jerry, the last host was wearing a name tag with the name Jerry, and names don’t matter to the parasite so this display of disrespect will go unnoticed.

[birdkittenn]

continuing where i left off

wrath layer fic chapter 2 reaction:

once again, author's notes reaction. i found the details tag from a tumblr post once and decided id stash the info away until i could use it somewhere. and that turns out to be here

yeah. feral little guy who wants to kill and murder but stopped by the guy who isnt feral

everything is gayer from v2's pov, who has already realized his feelings and trying so hard and failing at getting rid of his crush on this stupid blue fuck

and then i have little thoughts on the little v1-sentry interaction. it's there i guess. v1 the undersocialized little guy who only knows how to kill panicking because if not kill, then what do?? the fact that there's a Lot of people didnt help

oh the v1 trauma scene. im dreading a little at rereading this, i dont think it was good >-<

first, from current v1's pov, who has forgotten what has happened. this reads fine honestly

and now with the memory. the last line in the center is part of v1 realizing that its stuck in a loop and deleting the memory. so far with how i've written it, v1 does Not fare well when realizing it failed an order/task/anything. it does better at not marking things as failure now but it still handles it poorly

current idea that im not 100% sure will make it into the series is that memory deletion does not mean deletion of like, feelings. the stress is Still There. which. you know. if v1 suddenly finds itself in a loop where it keeps deleting its memories, and thereby placing it back into the exact same situation each deletion, the stress just continues building up and. yeah

not sure how i feel about the fact that, so far, my pre-canon characterization of v1 and v2 is that v1 is the most anxious thing that loves to kill ever, and v2 is like...there. v2 going "wow, its so easy being an unfeeling machine" [proceeds to not even realize he is experiencing feelings]. v2 is very stressed when he learns that he has feelings like everyone else. deals poorly with having them. v1 is just always stressed the fuck out though. i guess it's like a cheetah or something

word of the author means nothing btw if its not in the series. everything can change at any time i just like talking about my current plans

v1's reaction to conflict like this! it doesn't want to talk about that at all and gets angry if you try. the anger comes from something like fear though

ok the drawing scene! i struggled with explaining the concept behind it a little. i looked up an image of a lighthouse and mentally broke stuff down into shapes and then tried to describe that as best as i could

if i have to be completely honest, the idea of robots being Very Good at just tracing art and doing realistic art, but struggle more with the abstract stuff comes from this fic. i havent finished reading it nor do i really remember a lot of stuff anymore these days but that was 1 of the scenes that stuck out to me. another scene that sticks out to me is the part where sun tries to describe his favourite colour, but its a very specific colour, guy probably has the hex code for it and all, and tries really hard to recreate that exact colour. its cool i need to reread if i ever get the time. 107 chapters got hands

ivan aivazovsky! i wanted one of his wave paintings specifically because the first time i saw it, i went WOAH and so i knew i had to use one of his paintings for my yaouri fic. and then the part where their conversation drifts away from the drawing topic is because i ran out of things to say and also i needed them to move onto the next thing i wanted them to do

oh, the voice thing is next! v2's voice is perfectly fine by the time of the 7-3 fic, but in the 4-4 fic, it was fucked up. i needed a reason as to why v2 would restore his voice and the answer is v1 just likes it. v1 likes to listen to him a lot. it also likes to make him shut up but like lovingly

oh, from one of the glitched text, i transcribed "play nice" as "pʰle͡j na͡js" partly from that 1 time i took a linguistics course and they made me transcribe those sounds as e͡j etc instead of whatever online dictionaries transcribe it as, and then that just stuck with me. i also had a moment while transcribing "play" as like hey wait a minute! air releases when i pronounce the p in play, so i should add the symbol for that

i have that outfit in my closet! no pictures but i know exactly what it looks like. sadly have been unable to find an image that looks like my dress online

i have also had a scene where once v2 finally dresses up v1, his pet name for it is just doll. like. yeah. i havent found an excuse to get v2 to do that though

(v1 is just laying down on a couch during this scene)

oh yeah i had v1 teasingly call v2 a sculpture but didn't know exactly how to get it to do that. i mean i figured it out but yeah. i dont know if this was a planned thing that never came to fruition or something i made the fuck up just now (memory not the best) but they wouldve played around a bit with the actual sculptures in the room and comparisons wouldve been made

aaand that's the end of the chapter. i dont have any further thoughts on this

and the below screenshot is the alternate petting scene where v2 overheats. i instead moved the overheating to the next chapter. v2 cannot handle this amount of affection (yet) (he unwillingly gets trained to tolerate more before he gets far too happy about it and ceases to like function for a bit) (thanks v1)

who wants to see me liveblog my reaction to my own fic

[jubberry]

You said that its Fiveya that inspires you and makes you create. What do you find so fascinating about them in particular? And maybe even as opposed to some of the other ships in tua?

oof i love a lot of things about them so this is gonna be LOOONG, but i think definitely something that sets them apart for me, that i cant say the same for other pairings is i really like them as separate characters. I love getting into Five’s headspace, and I love his pragmatism and his struggle with loving his family, trying to save them and dealing with his trauma from a life of war and survival. I also really like Vanya, I see her as kind despite what happened to her, however she’s ridden with a lot of anger and sadness, I like writing her anger while trying to show who she is as a person (someone who is kind and caring still, despite that). I’m really invested in their characters in the show and I can’t say I ever had that level of care for both of the characters in any of the canon pairings in tua.

Beyond that, their dynamic together from what they’ve shown in the show is soo soft. Despite the fact that the both of them are basically angry bombs, together, they show so much respect for each other, and Five, at least makes so much exceptions for Vanya that he’s never had for any of the Hargreeves. In season 1 alone, the fact that vanya is the first person he goes to for help (the fact that, when he realised saying that vanya was ordinary hurt her, he immediately changed his tone and told her ‘because you’ll listen’), the fact that Vanya dismisses what he says and he’s pissed off and prepared to leave but he doesn’t because Vanya asks him to stay. Like, come on, if Klaus or anyone else had said that he would’ve been gone. But he waits until she’s asleep before he leaves and closes the door silently behind him. He even apologises when she said she was looking for him and she was worried for him, and pretends to admit that maybe he was crazy instead of losing his shit at her (the way he would’ve done for literally everyone else) so he doesn’t hurt her feelings. Even in s2 the way he treated vanya when they first met vs. the way he treated diego is so soft. Its such a big deal, considering five is such an asshole normally

And I’m all for platonic soulmates between five and vanya (hell, i’ve written and drawn them platonically), but its REALLY hard not to see the romantic subtext when Allison and Luther is a Thing, which means that nobody really cares all the much about the hargreeves hooking up in the show universe. (And even if they did, you guys really think Five of all people would care?? He banged a mannequin this bitch does what he wants)

Also its really hard not to see the romantic subtext when Five looks at her like he is getting lost in the eyes of his long lost love

via

I mean this is how he looks at Dolores

And this is how he looks at Luther when they were having a bonding moment over their experience with isolation

He just looks at her differently!

Even with Vanya, the fact that he’s just not there when we see a glimpse of her pysche of the other sibs taunting her and making her feel left out, the fact that five never said anything mean to her in her pysche in s2 has become a trend. And the fact that she was the only one who waited for him for so long, that she was the only one who reacted when he left (and also the fact that in s1, she’s the only one that five was not upfront about letting her know who dolores is), just feels to me like they could’ve been something more when they’re young. It’s just that their time together got cut off and they’ve grown old and become different people now. At least, that’s how I see it.

I dont think theyre gonna be canon (also... i dont rlly wanna see that cause its kinda weird lol), but their interactions and their implied friendship in the past just gives me enough to get the creative juices flowing.

I can talk about the theme of time travel, the fact that Five is hell bent on saving the world and he falls in love with the person who ends it (the fact that it never would’ve happened at all if he’d just stayed).

I can play with the angry murder person whos only soft for the sweetest person in the room dynamic, and it wouldn’t feel ooc.

Theres also the we could’ve had something but we lost our time together, or the dynamic of the star pupil being head over heels for the black sheep of the household. Its just a really fun dynamic to explore, and I like reading peoples aus of them of what they could be/could’ve been. They could be angst and fluff and soft and it would work.

I just get more ideas from these two than I do from any of the canon relationships in the show. And a lot of that stems from the fact that I like them as characters individually, and I like exploring what they would’ve been like as characters growing together. I feel like the canon relationships just never give me the time to really care about the characters by themselves as individuals, so when they come together in the show, I just go like ‘nice’ but it never really gives me any ideas afterwards.

[austarus]

Harrison Wells (Eobard Thawne) x Reader Ballistic Confrontations (3/3)

*A/N: The picture/edit/gif belongs to me!

**If you understand what I’m referencing to in the end, well the Kudos to you. You win 85 Stardollars.

***Trigger Warning: Scars from mentioned self-harm

****Please don’t forget to comment, like, and reblog. It means a lot to content creators of all kinds!

Word Count:  6397

Part 1   Part 2

Eobard said nothing. Instead, he disregarded your look as his gaze locked back onto Kara, as the Kryptonian woman threw him a hateful look. The futuristic genius did not care. His baby blue hues jumped back to where you stood before stepping away to the side tables. Now we proceed, the speedster mused to himself, picking up a scalpel and arranging his surgical tools. The stage needed to be set tonight. All the actors were in place, and he needed to complete his role. A delicate procedure, if you will. But he needed to be bought some time. Surely, Barry and the others would be back by now from Earth-X. He was, in essence, reluctant to cut up the Earth-38 Kryptonian for he held no malice towards her. She was just an unnecessary casualty in all this. And after all, if Barry Allen were to die it would be at his hands. Not on some tainted Earth at the firing range. You’re centuries late, Mr. Allen. As always.

You glared at your genius scientist for not cluing you in on whatever it is he had planned now. What was his plan? Play along until ‘Uh oh, it’s too late to turn back’ and ‘Oh, look. We’re doomed’? A grunt caught your attention, Kara was trying to break out of her restraints again. “Kara,” you whispered, now standing beside her. “Save your energy, please.” She eyed the restraints on you before taking a slow breath in. Kara wanted to throw her guts up, but she pushed back the bile caught in her throat.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.”

“Honey, you are looking anything other than fine.”

Kara pursed her lips, feeling fatigue wash over her once more. “Where… where are the others… that were here- at the labs? Are they…?” There it was, always concerned for others when she should be concerned about herself.

“No, no they’re fine. They’re in the pipeline. Iris and Felicity-” You stopped yourself, noticing Eobard’s head snap towards you. A pang of guilt echoed in your body. “They’re being held there too,” you lied, giving her hand two small squeezes for her to indicate the lie. If he held things back from you to entertain the Earth-Xer’s with legitimate reactions, then so would you. Supergirl nodded her head subtly in understanding. You were too focused with Kara; you didn’t notice Eobard move. “You’re going to be fine; the others should be back. They wouldn’t go out just like that.” Iris, Felicity, where’s that help? Just where are you guys? You couldn’t leave if you wanted to. Not with the others lurking around. Not when there was a chance you could tip them off about Iris and Felicity, then there was Eobard. Overgirl would instantly go after him for betrayal.

“I… I really hope not. Alex-” Kara trailed off; her eyes drooping shut as her shoulders sagged. Her hand went limp in your cuffed ones.

“Kara?” You looked up to see a tube in Eobard’s hand with a syringe in it. Empty as its contents have already worked its way into Kara’s system. “What are you doing?!”

“I’ve given her a mild anesthetic,” you pursed your lips as his statement. Eobard sighed, “Not to worry, that should have her out for 30 minutes. Strong enough for a Kryptonian, but not strong enough for too long even with the red sunlight on her.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I needed to talk to you without anyone listening.” You followed how Eobard’s eyes glanced at the door. Outside stood two more Nazi guards.

“You could have just pulled me to the other room,” you whisper-yelled at him.

“No, I couldn’t have.” He crossed his arms at you, replying in his own gravely hushed tones. “I needed to keep up the image of the bad guy in front of Kara.”

“Why? Why, when she could understand that you’re not really with them? Why let her also think of you as one of those heinous monsters?”

“Because her opinion of me doesn’t matter. Not hers, not the Earth-Xers, not anyone else.” Eobard punctuated his words before taking your hands in his, placing a gentle kiss on the back of one. The intensity in his eyes never broke as he spoke once more, “Only your opinion of me matters. You matter.”

You pursed your lips, your eyes unable to leave his heated gaze. Oh, if only we weren’t in this mess. If only we had more time… Kara crossed your mind once more, the ominous thrumming noise that came from the machine that generated the red sunlight. A frown found its way onto your face. “Wait, you said 30 minutes? Shouldn’t she need time to recover from the anesthesia to be given another one?”

Eobard sighed, letting go of your hands. He crossed his arms. You weren’t going to like his answer. “No, not in this case.” Dread welled up in the pit of your stomach.

“What…”

“The General herself requested, more like ordered, me to have our Kara awake during the… transplant.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You responded slowly. Your eye slightly twitched as anger started to consume your thoughts. You wanted nothing more than to rip your friend’s doppelganger apart.

Eobard very well sensed your feelings, he always hated putting a frown on your face or seeing you upset to this extent. “Look, I don’t want to do it either,” the speedster retorted hastily as he unfurled his arms, his hands gently grabbed your shoulders, “but I can’t defy their word especially with you around.”

“Why? Am I suddenly a liability?”

“Never, but they’ll figure something is up with you here with me. Conspiring against them. You already saw how easily Oliver-X caved to his Kara regarding who you are to me.”

Technically, that’s my own damn fault, but a calculated risk to get to Eobard. I can live with the repercussions. “But that’s technically what we’re doing on the downlow, Eo.” You echoed one of the lessons he taught you years ago. “One weakness is better than none, it can be essential to creating the downfall of another.” He had mainly told you that regarding Eilling, who hadn’t ceased to stick his nose into Eobard’s lab experiments and projects. The general had eyed you as a means to get to him, but in reality you were a strength to Eobard. Not a weakness. And the speedster very well knows you can handle your own; after all, the both of you trained constantly. Pushing each other’s limits. Though where you hesitated to kill, he compensated on that, especially in the right moment. “We can have the Dark Archer on the ropes. If anything, he’s made it evident that his wife is a liability to his rational thinking.”

A proud grin ran along his handsome face. “Exactly, my little bird. But they will hurt you, even if you can hold out against them you can’t take them both on.” Even I cannot, not with where I’m at with my speed. Not with the slight dampener they have on my suit. The potential self-destruction if removed from the emblem by my own hands, is a heavy weight on my chest. If I can get rid of them, I can defuse the detonator.

“I’m not worried about me; I’m worried about you! I can’t- I can’t be the one to lose you again.” Eobard shifted his gaze away from you. “Look it’s not going to come to that.” He knew what you were suggesting. “Ok? Worst comes to worst I cause a distraction.”

“No, over my rotting corpse.” 

That sounds eerily familiar.

“We don’t have a choice, if it buys us time then I’ll be damned not to try!”

“That’s why we adapt to the situation and find alternate routes to keep off their radar. I know what I’m doing.”

“Precisely. Adapting. So let me do what I can if it comes down to it.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No!” You bit back a retort at the way he raised his voice. “Just trust me.” He wasn’t asking you to.

“Kinda hard with your track record,” You deadpanned, and Eobard just rubbed his face.

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“Is that a question you seriously want me to answer?” A small cheeky smile made its way to your face. You couldn’t help but tease him right now, of all times.

Eobard huffed out a chuckle, pulling out some white surgical clothes from a drawer. Have those always been there? “Just follow my lead, ok? Whatever happens stay on their side, whatever happens to me stay with Barry and the others.” Eobard gloved his hands while the guards re-entered the medical room along with Oliver-X and Kara-X. Speak of the devil. You pursed your lips and held a stoic expression even as Kara-X sauntered to her respective gurney, smirking widely before a violent coughing fit erupts from her. You didn’t miss how Oliver-X moved towards her, yet you averted your eyes to the protruding machines the other soldiers were bringing in for the ‘necessary’ operation. Two guards held you by the arms where you stood. You swallowed thickly as everything was being sterilized and prepped.

***

Harry caught the ball once more after it ricocheted back to him. He’d been letting his frustration out on it towards the cell wall. Something didn’t feel right. He cursed himself, knowing he should have been carrying some weapon or breaching device to have gotten away from the Dark Archer. Or any intruder for the matter of this invasion. Yes, he pushed the emergency labs alarm, but he still got whacked and dragged to the pipeline. He could have done more damage to these damned Nazi’s, but he was helpless. I should have carried my gun or my pulse rifle, what was I thinking? His hand gripped tightly at the ball as regret never left his side. I should have seen this as a possible attack. It’s a simple strategy. Divide and conquer. Yet they were all too fooled, too hasty to attack to even logically see this move by the Earth-Xers.

“Wait, Thawne’s here?” Cisco’s outburst broke the Earth-2 genius out of his thoughts. Harry cracked his neck and directed his attention back to Cisco’s squabbling from the cell near him. The Wells doppelganger was getting pretty tired about hearing of Thawne. A feeling of dread picked at his insides, his thoughts going to you and what Barry had discussed vehemently earlier.

“Yeah,” Caitlin responded. “I haven’t seen or heard from her. We only briefly got a visit from Iris and Felicity not too long ago. But they didn’t know where she was either.”

“Do you think maybe she… you know?” Cisco made an implication. “I mean, does she know?”

“I don’t know,” Caitlin trailed off. “But Iris had said that she left them in the Time Vault to buy them time. Whatever that could mean.”

“Well, on the one hand, they either got to her and are holding her hostage somewhere or, on the other, she rendezvoused with Thawne and now they're going all Mengele on Kara.”

Harry rubbed his face irritably at Cisco’s words, by now you would have known. There’s a high possibility. Whether it’s from seeing Thawne face-to-face or by overhearing someone. By now, Harry’s sure, you would have made a choice. Where did you go, though?

The lights flickered in the pipeline before shutting off as Caitlin finished. A dull blue tint lit up in each individual cell as the pipeline was divulged into a dim darkness. The emergency lights were the only things on. Every person was on high alert at this point.

“Ohohoho, my girl Felicity definitely pulled that one!” Cisco chirped, making a loud clap.

Dinah tried her canary call again, but to no avail. The cell would not budge. Harry narrowed his eyes; he knew she’d try again. But Cisco had crafted these cells with Thawne cautiously for metas. Practically indestructible unless you’re a Time Wraith.

“I wouldn’t try it again if I were you.” Harry finally spoke. Dinah paused, the silence daring to be her question. “These cells are reinforced to withstand any form of meta-attacks generated within. A backup generator still supplies the power dampeners with energy to preserve the cell.” Harry looked out his cell and towards the darkness. “All we can do is wait.”

***

You took a breath, smoke and blood and electricity filled the air. Your eyes didn’t miss the rush of electricity in the distance. Red and gold, the Speedforce of the only two speedsters here. Swallowing thickly, your attention was diverted to the Waverider being chased by another. Well damn, I think someone’s having a bit too much fun. Raising an eyebrow, you watched both airborne vehicles zig-zag through the air. You hooked up your earpiece and headed for the nearest skirmish to help out. A grin plastered itself on your face when you heard Cisco on the comms arguing with Harry. I guess they’re the ones taking the Waverider for a joy ride.

You pressed the button on your communication device, “Any chance I can hop on?” You sucker punched a Nazi. “Oh, I’ve been wanting to do that all day.” Cisco laughed, weaving through the air as if he’s directing a Strike Fighter.

He’s totally Luke Skywalkering his way through this.

“Girl, where you been?”

“Let’s just say,” you huffed, generating electricity in your palm and slamming it into the chest of another soldier. “I caught some unwanted attention, and they were reluctant to release me.” In actuality, Eobard had sped you away from the Labs once Ray made a dramatic entrance to save Kara. He’d sped you to where the battle would be, at least to where the Earth-X forces would arrive from. Telling you to run and appear at an opportune moment. Meaning, go hide while the battle thickens so your disappearance doesn't bring up too many questions from your friends. “Is Iris with you?”

“Yeah, she’s in the back with Felicity, we’re still trying to maneuver in the best position possible to take down their shields.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, thinking back to her stunt with Felicity to sabotage the surgery. “So, how about that help?”

“Hmm,” Harry spoke up, pushing his glasses up. “Unless you have the capability of overloading and shutting down the entire Earth-X Waverider system without passing out, be our guest.”

“… I mean I could try.”

“No.”

You pouted, punching another soldier, this time in the nose. Someone’s particularly grumpy right now. “It’s honestly not that hard, I would just be out for a couple of days and probably on life support.” The line was quiet meaning that Harry chose to ignore your comment. Rude.

You took in a breath and reduced your being to an electrical form, traveling up some buildings to gauge the situation. Kara and Kara-X were facing off at the moment. Eobard was naturally keeping Barry busy while Oliver and Oliver-X were in an intense hand-to-hand-to-bow combat. Yeah, their fight wasn’t as impressive as the other two. You took in a breath heading back down to the fight, this time getting closer to Mick and Leo Snart, who you found to be the Earth-X resistance fighter and doppelganger to your dead ex-boyfriend.

What goes around comes around.

***

“Where were you?”

Turning back from where you sat, you sent a questioning look to Barry and pointed to yourself when no one had responded. He had specifically prompted you with the question. The look in his hazel-green eyes were distant as he leaned against the front of the Cortex desks. You recognized that look from a few years ago. The silence in the Cortex was sliced amongst the team. DeVoe was still out there, scheming. Some stopped what they were doing to gauge what would happen, others (mainly Harry) kept working away but inclined an ear in case either of you were to do something rash.

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, (Y/N). You’re not that dumb.”

“Excuse me.” You narrowed your eyes at the scarlet speedster.

“Barry,” Iris whispered to him, but he shook her off as he folded his arms.

“Where were you after you left Iris and Felicity?”

Ah, of course he wouldn’t miss that. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse.

“I went to go buy them some time.”

“Buy them some time or buy yourself some time? To see Eobard.”

Your heart hammered tightly in your chest, but you made no move to indicate what you had done. In a sense, you did both. You protected Iris and Felicity while keeping Eobard company.

“Why would I want to see someone who’s allied themselves to a Nazi regime on a different Earth, Barr?”

“Why wouldn’t you do anything to see the one you once loved?”

“Are you talking about me,” you tilted your head to the side, taunting him now, “or yourself?” You referenced the events that happened last year. Barry was more than aware of what you were indicating. Flashpoint. Savitar. Iris’ predicted death, HR’s sacrifice, his time remnant’s downfall. But you’ve been wanting to add kerosene to the flames. “Are you referring to your mom,” you turned your head to Iris, “or to Iris?” If looks could kill, you would have been reduced to ashes under Barry’s gaze. Cisco put down his tools and Caitlin glanced at her friends from where she sat beside Iris. Harry capped his marker but turned his eyes towards you. “Like I said, I caught some unwanted attention, and they were reluctant to release me. How is that any different from the others getting stuck in the pipeline?”

“You left Iris to defend herself.”

“Oh my god! Barry!” You rolled your eyes at his statement, deflecting your own questions. “Iris this, Iris that. Iris is a big girl with nearly perfect marksmanship as Harry. She’s more than capable of taking care of herself. I know that. She knows that. The same goes for Felicity as well. But do you know that?” Divide them, fester the idea of unreliability between those two. After all, it’s because of Barry’s decisions for Iris that everyone gets screwed over. It’s one of the reasons for the resentment and bitterness that grows within you. Only they can be happy, no one else can.

“You left Iris and Felicity while this place was crawling with Earth-Xers just to see Thawne!”

“Fucking prove it, you dickbag,” you screamed back at him, “if you’re so certain. Prove it, because contrary to your belief, I was fighting beside you and everyone else that day in the city once I managed to escape. Ask Cisco and Harry. Ask Sara. Hell, even ask Mick and Leo.”

Barry shook his head with a cruel smile, “Do you wanna know how I know?” The speedster took out his phone and started it up, showing the screen of your location. “Careful what you wish for.” Dread gripped your heart as Barry chuckled to himself. “That’s right. I chipped you, that night I pushed you against the doorframe before leaving for the warehouse fight. I chipped you. I already had Thawne chipped earlier that night. On his suit, when I landed a few hits on him. He doesn’t know or… not until recently.” Barry did a search for any pings, but there were none except for yours. “You asked me for proof, here it is.” He slid his fingers on the screen showing a timestamp and your location pinged with Eobard’s at the labs.

“This means nothing.”

“It means everything!” Barry stepped closer to you, anger in his wake. “You left us for him.”

“Yet I still fought with you guys because it was the right thing to do regardless of how I feel for him. You don’t understand nor will you want to understand. You’d rather label us as 100% on the wrong side without acknowledging that we can dwell in a gray area. The world isn’t just black and white, Barry. Or have you forgotten about your own morally gray decisions?”

Sparks crackled in the air, whether it was from you or Barry, no one could tell. Harry took a subtle step towards you from where he stood at the glass board a few feet beside you. He was the only one that can calm you down from this, maybe Iris too, but most definitely he himself. But Harry wasn’t quick enough because the Cortex monitors went haywire while the room darkened. You and Barry were nowhere in the room.

“Barry!” Iris screamed a second after he had sped you away.

***

Eobard raked a hand through his dark locks, analyzing the future article again. He fiddled with his rightful Reverse Flash emblem in his hands, his fingers tracing over the single lightning bolt. It took the genius a full day to extract the SS emblem from his suit, but with your help he was able to detonate it a safe distance away in some open fields. While the people of Central City slept and you had assured Eobard that the Labs were vacant, the speedster had rushed into his old office and compiled all the documents he needed to keep out of Barry’s hands. He’s honestly surprised Team Flash hadn’t rifled thus far into the records he kept. The only things missing were speed theories and the equation escalation to the Speed Formula. Although, he had solved that issue for Barry two years ago when he had traveled back in time for an answer on getting faster.

Still such a naïve child, not at all like the Flash from my future. Arranging some papers together on his new office desk, without meaning to Eobard had knocked over a picture frame. The breaking of glass caught his attention, craning his neck to see the fallen frame. The frame held a picture of you and him from before the Particle Accelerator exploded around Christmas. Before you had known his secret. But now the frame was adorned with a fierce crack through you. Eobard’s mouth went dry, knowing that superstitions were just superstitions, but he couldn’t exactly place the rush of fear welling in his body.

“Gideon, pull up (Y/N)’s location.” Eobard pulled his glasses off smoothly as the AI did as told. She was at the labs. “Access the live feed cameras.” Gideon pulled up holo-images 8x8 of what seemed to be a further escalating scene between you and Barry through STAR Labs. Gritting his teeth, Eobard summoned his suit and launched himself forward into it. The Negative Speedforce fueled by his anger and hate pumped dangerously in his veins.

Barry Allen will regret the day he dared to lay a hand on you.

***

“You’re a traitor!”

“Speak for yourself.” You grunted against the wall, your electric blade dissipating in your hand. It was getting harder to breathe, to keep up with his movements. With speedsters, you preferred long-range combat, but you had to make due at times. “You’re the one who betrayed everyone first for your own selfish desires. Flashpoint, the cause of so much pain and misery. In the end, there was so much collateral damage, and you were the cause of so many lives lost.”

“Flashpoint should have wiped you away. You should have been thankful. We helped you,” Barry fumed, pressing his forearm harder against your throat. “We stood by you.”

“They stood by me.” You tried channeling your electricity, even to siphon off a lick of his in order to produce a dagger, but to no avail. Only sparks flickered from the tips of your fingers, “You couldn’t stand the sight of me when you brought me in.” You had no grievances towards anyone else other than Barry. Not Iris, not Caitlin, not Joe, not Cisco. Certainly not Ralph simply because he’s new. And not towards Harry and Jesse. Iris and Caitlin were the two people who kept you the most grounded to the world for they understood the loss of a loved one and the process of moving on.

“You’re damn right I couldn’t. I was wrong to have let you stay around after Iris and Caitlin rehabilitated you.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make, now, was it?”

“You’re a monster just like Thawne. You’re not a hero.”

You simply spit blood in Barry’s face. “I’m neither thief nor hero.” You were kind of enjoying pushing his buttons, releasing all those pent-up emotions and frustration over the years. Wiping his face clean with his sleeve, the speedster sped you out of the room, throwing punches and kicks at you. He had run you through the entirety of STAR Labs. You siphoned off passing energy from computers and lightbulbs to throw at him Palpatine-style when there was distance between you two, but there was only so much you could do in your current condition. You were getting tired; you couldn’t keep up. Every burst of electricity that burned him had drained you. Blood continued to trickle from the side of your face and sweat glistened on your skin. You healed fast, but he healed much faster.

“Barry, stop! You’re going to kill her.” Iris shouted with a gun in her hand, the others piling into the room. Cisco threw a wave blast at Barry and Frost aimed a couple of icicles his way, but the speedster had dodged them. The scarlet speedster tossed you to the ground like a bag of peanuts before turning to the others. You skidded to the side, breathing in deeply then coughed up some blood into your fist. Blood continued to trickle from the side of your face and sweat glistened on your skin. You could feel your cheek swell as well as an ache form in your chest, maybe a few cracked ribs. Could potentially puncture your lungs if this didn’t end soon.

“And why shouldn’t I? For all we know, she could be spying on us for Thawne.”

“Barry killing her won’t solve anything,” Harry shot at him with his pulse rifle to create some distance between you two before training it on you. “It’ll just make things worse.” You met his eyes, and you could see the disappointment in them. A tinge of guilt hit you, but you pushed past it as you stood on unsteady feet. Your body felt like it was made of lead, but you continued on. If this is how things are to be, then so be it.. You leaned against the wall, cradling your damaged ribcage, as Harry continued. “Regardless of her actions, she did keep Iris and Felicity safe in her own way, she still stood by us.” You were finding it extremely hard to breathe, to stay conscious. Your breathing slowed, the noise in the room between Team Flash was reduced to murmuring to your ears. Did I burst an eardrum too?

“Are you kidding me, Wells? How can you say that when-”

You blinked before collapsing onto the ground, a streak of red had filled your vision. Eobard pinned Barry to the wall, his hand squeezing at his throat while red hot anger filled his vision. “Good to see you again so soon, Flash,” the yellow speedster drawled with a rough grin in his distorted voice. “It seems like you overstepped your boundaries.” Eobard kicked Barry in the ribs and landed a few speed punches, the scarlet speedster already exhausted from his fight with you. “Isn’t this position nostalgic?” Barry was clawing at Eobard’s firm grip, suspending the young hero in the air against the wall as he had done years ago.

“I- had a feeling... you’d show up, Thawne,”

Licking your bloodied lips, you groaned as you leaned up with hoarseness in your voice, “Eo, don’t.” The man in yellow stopped, slowly turning his quaking gaze towards you. You held his gaze for as long as you could get the message through to him. “Enough.” Eobard retracted a fist that was to make contact on Barry’s face, but not before squeezing the scarlet speedsters throat tightly and throwing him towards the upper part of the speed lab. Eobard took off his cowl and generated his speed to be by your side, eyeing every cut and bruise on your broken skin. Your eyes drooped shut when he brushed the back of his gloved hand against your unwounded cheek. His eyes softened, but his insides clenched. Iris and Caitlin had run to where Barry laid while Harry and Cisco monitored Eobard with caution as he gently scooped you in his strong arms.

Standing up with your limp form, the speedster disregarded Cisco, yet glared coldly at his supposed doppelganger. The future genius then turned to them and spoke, “My love for her is what stopped me this time. Next time,” his eyes landed on Barry, “you won’t be so lucky. Lay a hand on her again and I won’t hesitate to end your miserable life, Flash.” His eyes flashed red as they met Barry’s for the last time before taking his leave in a wake of red electricity.

***

Eobard stopped his vibrational intimidation once he made it to your temporary home, Gideon had already prepared the necessary diagnostic tests that would need to be conducted to assess your health. Laying you on the gurney gently, he kissed your forehead before proceeding. The speedster had cleaned you up, replacing your burnt clothes and scrubbing the dried remnants of blood on your skin. His heart shattered. His blood turned to ice. Eobard’s baby blues scanned every part of your marred skin. Lines that tallied up right after another, scars that were too stubborn to heal correctly as if trying to serve as a reminder. Eobard’s mouth had dried as his thumb made featherlight touches before injecting the needle into the correct vein. The speedster opened his mouth and closed it, but he could not register any other emotion other than anger and guilt. His thoughts funneled fluidly, emphasizing that one certain cause that led to this escalation. His death had been the cost of your mental and physical state.

Never again. The speedster peppered kisses along your arms as all the implied images ran through his mind. A tear slipped out. It fell from his face onto the scarred tissue. My love. He needed to get back to work. With classical music dancing in the background, Eobard conducted a blood transfusion in order to replace the blood you had lost as well as administering IV fluids. He had to steal the materials from a hospital nearby in Keystone. They won’t be missing it. 

“According to my current readings, copious amounts of stress have been exuded onto her heart allowing her to retain a constant distressed state.” Gideon rattled on as Eobard sat next to you with a sleeve rolled up. He glanced over at you as the AI continued. “The X-ray scans have also been completed. She’s suffering trauma in her ribcage, a few cracked ribs, however none are broken. CT results also conclude a mild concussion.”

She’s lucky her lungs hadn’t been punctured. His hate for Barry Allen grew with every second that you laid unconscious.

“How long until a full recovery?”

“Physically it could take up to 3-6 weeks regarding her ribs. The mild concussion will take approximately almost a week and a half. Her heart might take longer. Therefore, she must avoid extraneous activity.” 

“Such as using her powers and so on.”

“Yes. Shall I assist you with anything else today, Professor Thawne?”

Eobard ran his fingers over his lips before taking his glasses off and throwing them onto the side of a nearby table. “Keep tabs on Barry Allen’s movements, I want to be alerted if he comes near Keystone or has any intention of it.” The AI nodded before shuttering away into the plinth. Yes, the speedster had been smart to chip him, something Eobard had easily gotten rid of. But to chip you as well, Thawne cursed himself for not seeing it coming. Too preoccupied with the timeline and it’s malleability. “Hopefully DeVoe will keep him away long enough.”

***

Your eyelids felt like they had been cemented shut, the stinging smell of antiseptic slapped you right in the face. Am I dead or in a hospital? A groan left your lips, your throat dry as a desert and craving any drips of water. I hope I’m not in a hospital, I hate those places. The nice thing was that a light wasn’t blinding you, at the very least not piercing through the darkness supplied by your shut eyelids. It was oddly soothing. Your mind finally processed the dull ache residing in your bones, the softness beneath you and the slight chill in the air. Maybe I am dead. Taking one slow breath in, your blood vessels throbbed louder with each fluid pumped through and the humming of machines finally registered to your ears. You didn’t want to open your eyes; you were content with just laying here.

“…” You frowned, the sound of mumbling coming to you. Who was that? “Gi… ru-… I-.” Death, perhaps? You twitched your fingers, a numb sensation set in both your arms. If I’m dead, how can I still feel? It took a moment for your brain to catch you up on how you’d been reduced to such a state. Barry… killed me? No, that’s- Eo was… You shakily formed a fist only to feel something cool against your skin. Felt like another hand. Not bony. Maybe Death gave the appearance of a human for us to pass.

“Mm,” you tried clearing your throat, but it hurt each time, inducing a coughing fit. Blinking wearily, you looked around, your vision blurry until it settled on the being the hand had belonged to. “Mm, I…”

“Shh,” the deep voice cooed. You could hear much more clearly now but couldn’t make out the image of the being. “I have some water for you,” you felt a straw tap your lips. “Drink up.”

Why is Death being so kind to me? I thought Death was swift. You drank a sip at a time before pulling back and shutting your eyes once more. The somatosensory neurons on your arms brushed against some coarse material. A blanket? That same cool touch caressed your cheek. You blinked your eyes open a few times, dizziness ensnaring your mind, but your eyes met icy blue ones. “Eo?”

“I’m here,” he whispered in a gentle tone, standing up from where he sat next to you.

“I’m not dead.”

“No, you’re very much alive”

“Barry, he…”

“I’ve dealt with him. He won’t ever hurt you again.” You watched as he kissed your bandaged hands, each finger receiving a kiss. Cracking your neck, your realized he had changed you into fresh clothes. The scent of faint lavender hung onto the fabric.

“How long was I out?”

“Two weeks.”

It hurt your head when your eyes bugged out. You patted your temples lightly. “Two weeks? What- I-I need to get back. They were going to confront DeVoe. Harry and-”

“No,” Eobard pressed his palm against your shoulder when you tried to sit up abruptly, “You need to rest. Screw Team Flash. For once, just let them be so you can recover.” The speedster did not ask for what had happened to you, knowing the implications in his mind were too strong to be false. Rather, he’d make sure it would not occur a second time

“It’s not that simple, Eo.”

“It really is,” the yellow speedster sighed to himself, rubbing his face. You gestured to the water, and he handed the cup to you. “You’re in no condition to go back there, not after what happened. Your powers and your fight did a number on you. I-…. Your heart stopped a couple of times.” You almost choked on your sip. “I had to jumpstart your heart and keep it going.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For worrying you.” For being a liability that Barry can use.

“Don’t. This,” he gestured with his hands between you and him, “is not something to apologize for. Ever. If anything, it was smart of him to use you for bait as I had used Iris and Eddie.” You pressed your lips into a thin line as your mind started to wander.

“So, we wait?”

Eobard nodded as you ran a hand through you knotted hair. Need to brush that out asap. “We wait until it’s time to strike.”

“Until it’s time for you to strike. I’m remaining neutral in whatever it is between you and Barry in the future. Even if he might not see it that way.” Tipping the scales, balancing good and evil natures in the forces of the world. That’s what He told me my role in the multiverse is along with...

“I know, my love.” I don’t know how to break this to her. “But until then, rest.” If I ask her to come with me, would what I orchestrate then work?

“Eobard.”

“Hm?” Eobard knew he needed to go back to sort a few things out. Chances of getting caught were roughly 30-70, but not zero.

You shifted over to make room for him, patted the spot next to you. “Stay.”

Or would she become collateral damage?

“Always.” The speedster leaned down to kiss your lips before moving in beside you. You laid your head on his chest, minding the slight tremors of pain. Eobard kissed the top of your head and you shut your eyes. You’d go to the ends of the multiverse for him, but you’d also protect your friends. Being at odds with Barry wouldn’t stop you. He just needed to learn to live with your choices as everyone else has had to live with his.

Eobard’s mind ran through every scenario, deciding it’s best to tell you what he intends to do. He’d rather you decide for yourself what to do. The negative speedster respected the position you held onto. Neutrality wasn’t always an easy feat, but he admired your devotion towards him and the ones you love. Eobard was just selfish enough to only want and care for you. He didn’t need anyone else. He certainly didn’t need camaraderie. Tomorrow, he’d tell you. Tomorrow, he’d make sure to take the first step towards ensuring the future.

Betrayal is a fickle thing, Barry Allen. A lesson you will learn again.

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

How Bad is Sia’s “Music” really?

I watched it illegally (because there was no way I was paying for that bullshit) and found out. It’s not as bad as we thought... It’s worse.

TW for ableism, Sia, drugs, alcohol, just in general a terrible movie, meltdowns, blackface

Literally the first thing you hear while they’re showing the production companies is THOSE stereotypical noises. If you’ve seen the trailer, you’ll know what I mean.

And yes, she does this for the WHOLE fucking movie

What was the need to show her in her underwear? Maddie Ziegler was 14 when this was made, so what was the need??? And why did Sia prolong the scene by having her hitting herself?

Less than a minute in and my reaction was already “what the fuck is this shit?”

So the opening number not only had stereotypical exaggerated facial expression, it has Maddie in BLACKFACE?!? And with culturally appropriated hair?!?

The exaggerated facial expressions are literally constant and I took photos during the film to show it, more later, but I’ll keep mentioning it

ITS LITERALLY THE WHOLE FUCKING TIME SHE IS ON SCREEN

Even her way of walking is fucking offensive, Jesus Christ

The vocalisations just had me cringing so hard, I cannot describe how awful it made me feel

Why do all the neighbours need to be paid off and help her when she goes for a walk? I don’t-

Yes, by about the five minute mark I was already seriously debating all my life decisions. It was that bad.

Kate Hudson really didn’t give a fuck that her grandma died

I will keep saying it but WHY are the facial expressions/vocalisations CONSTANT?!! Literally they do not stop at all. I work with a child who is actually similar to this in that he’s nonverbal and he makes similar noises/faces, but the way they’re in this movie is so over-exaggerated?!? And even the kid I work with doesn’t do it 24/7?!?

Sia, calling your characters Zu and Music doesn’t make them interesting in the slightest. They’re still painfully terrible and one dimensional

Literally ONE minute after being left alone with her autistic sister, Zu calls the mental health service asking if they could “theoretically” “pick up” her sister?!? Like she wants to get rid of her already?!?

“A magical little girl” - autism isn’t a magical power?!? And Music is a young woman, not a little girl?!? Why are you infantilising her?!?

Okay I’m not being funny but this choreography is NOT hard. ANYONE can do it, so claiming that you needed to hire a dancer to be Music because of the numbers is literally bullshit (and even so, there are so many amazing autistic actors and dancers?!?)

20 minutes in and I wanted to give up

So she had her first meltdown because her hair didn’t get braided immediately and that’s... certainly interesting??

The fact that Leslie Odom’s character says “I’m going to crush you now”?!?

AND THEN HE FUCKING PICKS HER UP AND FULL-BODILY PINS HER DOWN ONTO THE FLOOR

“I’m crushing her with my love” - oh fuck you, just fuck you

So Sia lied, the restraint scenes were NOT removed and there was no warning. She’s a fucking POS liar

I have no idea why he’s called Ebo or why he has such a cliche African accent?!? I might have missed out on why because I was busy trying not to bang my head into the table while I watched this film but just... yikes

“He (his brother) liked to be held” - YEAH, HELD. NOT FUCKING CRUSHED

“He is dead now” - IM NOT FUCKING SURPRISED IF YOU CRUSHED HIM LIKE THAT

The constant babying and patronizing of the autistic character is so exhausting to watch. I’m so tired

“Planning on sending her to the people pound but I guess I’ll keep her a little longer” - SHE WAS JOKING BUT THAT WAS NOT EVEN REMOTELY A FUNNY JOKE. NOT EVEN IN AN AWKWARD WAY

STOP THE FACES IM-

^ YEAH, Sia, totally a fucking love letter to the autistic community here ^

So Zu finds this necklace she made as a kid that had a little dog on it, and she says to Music, “He had seizures too, just like you”... MELTDOWNS AND SEIZURES ARE NOT EVEN REMOTELY THE SAME FUCK THIS MOVIE-

It’s like Sia is trying to make the movie funny but it’s really not at all

Is Zu implying that Music is autistic because the mum was a junkie?!?

For real though, the dialogue in general is so fucking awful and cringey. Whoever wrote this should never be allowed to write again

Did she seriously leave her autistic sister alone to talk to who I’m presuming was her dealer or loan shark?!?

Also why is he - a white dude - wearing cornrows?!?

So who is the film really about? The autistic girl or the older sister saviour? I think we all know the answer to that one

WHY IS SHE WALKING AROUND WITH HER TEETH JUTTING OUT LIKE THAT ALL THE TIME

The musical numbers are literally so painful to watch. The overly bright colours, the flashing... my eyes were hurting and so was my brain

Autism representation aside for a second, the musical numbers/choreography are all fucking atrocious. Ditto for the costumes

LIKE WHAT THE FUCK WERE THE PINK OOMPA LOOMPA FRUIT THINGS?!? THEY LOOK LIKE THE PINK VERSIONS OF VIOLET BEAUREGARDE THE BLUEBERRY

I wanted to cry by this point, this movie is far more awful than I thought

“I’m not saying she doesn’t want to change, I’m saying she can’t” - FUCK YOU. Why is it okay for him to assume what she can or can’t do

Can I just say that autistic people aren’t constantly in a coked up wonderland state?!! We don’t see the world as a wonderland fantasy world 24/7?!!

“She can hear you from two rooms away” / *shows her listening through two brick walls to a conversation* — Also, we don’t have super fucking sonic hearing?? WE CANT HEAR THROUGH FUCKING BRICK WALLS?!?

“She can understand everything you’re saying to her” - she’s autistic not fucking deaf

Less than 45 minutes in, there’s another meltdown in the park

“I’m not climbing on top of a small screaming white girl in public” - yeah please fucking don’t

So Zu fucking pins her down with her weight 🤦‍♀️

“She doesn’t know who she’s hitting” - IM SORRY WHAT

EBO LITERALLY SAID “TREAT HER LIKE A BEAR” when talking her through the prone restraint, I fucking CANNOT

“Tell her she’s safe” - NOT IF YOU FUCKING RESTRAIN HER LIKE THAT SHE IS NOT

The fact that she gets up, smiling and happy after a meltdown and immediately is excited to get a snow cone... I can honestly say that after a meltdown, I am in no way happy or smiling. I am often not very verbal and I’m withdrawn/not myself for at least several hours, usually the rest of the day. Fuck this film

This film is literally just about Zu, and Music is there for a plot device to give her character development. That’s all she’s there for.

Love how Sia shoehorned Zu being suicidal in there. You know, just to try and make her more easy to sympathize with (it doesn’t work)

This film is literally just a 1 hour 47 minute Sia music video with ZERO plot

WHY WERE THEY WEARING PILLOW DIAPERS IN ONE NUMBER-

I really did not feel into the side plot with that guy who was fighting but it was still better than the actual movie so...

I am SO DONE with the NON STOP CONSTANT vocal shit. So tired.

LOJ’s only role in this film is to be the stereotypical wise black guy who assists a white woman’s story. There’s like hardly any other depth there

The Ebo/Zu romance is so fucking stupid and pointless and out of NOWHERE. I couldn’t even tell if they were into each other or not

I was already so bored of the musical numbers by this point. They added NOTHING to the plot but they pretended they did, and I was so over it. And it’s not because I’m not “creative enough” or anything to understand, I love musicals and I think it could have been cool if done right... but it wasn’t. They were a mess. It’s just bad.

Sia really tried to pretend her movie was deep but really it’s a shallow mess

So Zu is meeting rich drug clients and says to Music “try not to have one of your freak outs up there” and “if you could try to get it out now”... FUCKING YIKES. It’s not an on/off button, shut the fuck up

YEP THIS WAS THE SIA CAMEO FUCK THAT BITCH

The fact that she just calls “DRUG DEALER?!? DRUG DEALER IS THAT YOU”, fucking end this please-

I fucking hate this bitch I’m dead serious

“We’re gonna send them to Haiti cause there’s been an earthquake. All these buildings fell down, children’s bones were dislocated” - WHY WAS SHE SO CHEERFUL ABOUT IT

“Gonna buy a shit load of pain meds, gonna but them on my private plane” - FUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOU

“Pop stars without borders” - Sia thinks she’s so clever but I would give anything to punch her I swear-

ANOTHER MUSICAL NUMBER JUST STOP IM BEGGING YOU

There’s this awkward conversation/bit with Zu and her drug dealer/loanshark about his outfit that was clearly meant to be funny but was just flat and painful

Yep, Sia really showed Music eating chewing gum off the underside of a park bench. Of course.

Look, the kid I work with does similar stuff by putting literally anything and everything in his mouth but like... why would you put that in your movie?

And there’s no indication before this that Music puts everything and anything in her mouth, she just randomly decides to get on her knees, under the bench and eat chewing gum, like she calculates that it’s there and gets it???

She has a THIRD meltdown after an allergic reaction to a bee sting and her sister just yells at her before realizing... I’m not here for this movie, I feel like I drifted off and was not really there

So Zu got angry because she left the drugs at the park but she’s not that upset that her sister had an allergic reaction???

Zu gets absolutely drunk because a) she lost Sia’s drugs and b) she’s stressed out by her autistic sister... wow, great message, Sia!

She really fucked off and left her sister alone to go clubbing/on a bender

The less said about the musical number here the better

Sia’s movie also checks the box of having stereotypical Asian parents, specifically stereotypical Asian dad being harsh/angry and hitting his wife!

ALSO HE PUSHED AND KILLED HIS SON WTF IS HAPPENING

Less than 3 minutes after the last, there’s a musical number that I think was about this side character going to heaven... another shitty Sia-esque number

The patterns during the number made my brain hurt.

Also there are so many autistic actors who can also dance, and yet Sia chose the neurotypical one because ✨ N E P O T I S M ✨

I just want to know how it was deemed necessary to show the fact the autistic character peed/wet herself? I mean... ??? It’s just so undignified and not at all necessary to the plot. Nothing happens after that, it just moves onto the next scene and it didn’t do anything

“I have no one” - 1) YOUR FUCKING SISTER. 2) GEE I FUCKING WONDER WHY, couldn’t be that you’re a shitty human being?!?

There’s a scene where Music is walking and she does ALL the stereotypical behaviours at once... just YIKES

Zu somehow stopped another meltdown just by grabbing Music by the shoulders and sitting her down???

Aaand yep. Another shitty musical number

Zu really goes to put her sister in a fucking facility and claims it’ll be “better for her” - BULLSHIT. Better for Zu, maybe, not Music.

Ah yes - the girl who the characters have said has problems with routines being changed/change in general... you’re now going to fuck up her routine by dumping her in a facility. Perfect Plan.

The nonverbal autistic girl suddenly speaking to say “don’t go” - you can just predict it from the off, can’t you?

Love that as soon as Music starts talking, Zu is like “fuck it, I’ll keep her!”

Zu really went and crashed Ebo’s brothers wedding... in a fucking bralette... YIKES

“I almost gave Music away” - SHE IS NOT A DOG YOU DONT GIVE PEOPLE AWAY

“We should sing a song” - PLEASE DO FUCKING NOT

Also that kiss/romance montage between Zu and Ebo was the CRINGIEST fucking shit ever

This movie seems to be implying that Music has locked in syndrome or something, like she’s locked in her own head or whatever it’s called, and I just... *sigh*

Oh and now Music magically fucking sings in a room FULL of strangers... this is literally embarrassing, please let this end

I mean it, this movie was fucking painful to watch on ever level

She got a service dog puppy which... okay?

Oh look, it’s the only decent song on the soundtrack but with an absolutely shitty over-stimulatory music video with the credits!

I can only name 5 characters in this film. Maybe 7 at a push, but even then I would be guessing

AND YEP SHE THANKED AUTISM SPEAKS OVER THE CREDITS. FUCK YOU SIA 🖕🏻

Let me reiterate: this is a movie about a neurotypical former drug addict whose character development comes from the autistic character, from having an autistic sister she has to take care of. I’m so tired.

We are NOT plot devices or tools for character development. Not once does anyone in this film treat Music like a human being - she’s treated as a burden, a problem, and then like a pet that they decide to keep. Not once is the film focused on how she is feeling - it’s always about Zu or Ebo. The performance itself was so over exaggerated and it made me want to cry when I watched it because this is how the world sees us, and this movie will make it ten times worse. It’s stuff like this that made me think “I don’t want to be labelled as autistic because people will think I’m a certain way”, that made me wait so long before going to the GP to get a referral.

As I said, poor autistic representation aside, the movie is just so appallingly bad. It truly is one of the worst films I’ve watched. If you’re going to watch it, please don’t - or, if you want to because you want to see how bad it is/to raise awareness/critical posts, at least do it illegally. Do not give Sia your money.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 29

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: smut (18+, underage DNI)

A/N: its angst season again!!

NEXT CHAPTER

Bucky held the old phone against his ear as he waited for Natasha to pass the line onto Steve, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Once again, there were no news coming from them. There’s not enough evidence for us to even make a guess, he’d tell him every time he called the super soldier. It did not matter how many hours he spent on the phone, a team of synthesoids, witches, spies and super soldiers couldn’t bring upon themselves to figure out who was threatening his girlfriend. His mind couldn’t stop going to the worse places. If he didn’t figure it out, who would?

   - Buck, we can go through the record off people who got into her building but do we even know if it’s the same person? 

   - It has to be, Steve. Go through the records, check for anyone who isn’t from the building.

   - Have you asked Y/N who she thinks might be? 

   - No, I didn’t tell her. - he gulped. - I promised her she’d be safe. I’m not gonna tell her. 

   - That is a ter ... - the line broke down and before he could call out for Steve’s name again, he heard Y/N’s voice right behind him. 

   - When were you gonna tell me? - she held up the letter in front of his face and he swore all the colour drained from his face. - Bucky, when were you gonna tell me? How long have you known? Where did this come from?

Bucky dropped the phone to the holder, visibly gulping at the sight of his girlfriend holding the letter he had sworn not to let her see. However, except of seeing the fear she had displayed the first time it happened, she was upset, mad even with that hidden type of serene look which he was sure would scare any army. She put the letter on the table, crossing her arms at him. 

    - It came yesterday. I don’t know if it actually arrived yesterday but that’s when I got it from the post box.

    - Why didn’t you tell me? - she sighed looking down at her feet, one hand holding her weight on the table. Bucky’s jaw locked, eyes moving from side to side before he wrapped his hand around her forearm and led her into the bedroom. Last thing he needed was for her whole family to know not only was he terrible at his job, he was also terrible at being her boyfriend. First fight in her parents’ home ... you can’t fuck up any further Barnes. - James, I’m not toying around.

     - I thought it wasn’t important. - he lied. 

     - They found my family home, James. It is important and you hid it from me. Why did you even open my mail? 

     - I hoped to be able to find who did it before I told you. I didn’t want to ruin your Christmas. - he put his hands in his pocket. She narrowed her eyes at him, arms crossed over her chest. 

     - Is that why you don’t wanna kiss me or touch me? You ... Do you ... You agree with they called me? - she frowned, her own anger replaced by her own insecurities. Bucky blinked slowly as if he was processing what she had said, not believing the words which had came out of her mouth. - I ... I didn’t mean to be too forward, I jus ...

     - No. No, no, no, no ... - he walked so fast he was almost running, holding her by her arms. - No. I don’t agree with them, I would never agree with it.

   - Then ... are you really not in the mood and I just made a complete idiot of myself?

   - I don’t, no, I just feel like I failed you, failed my job. - he cupped her face in his hands, trying to find her gaze but she refused to look at him. - I don’t want to fail you, everyone but you. I’m sorry I kept it from you, I thought that you’d feel safer if you didn’t know.

    - So you thought keeping me in my own delusion was the best thing to do?

    - I’m sorry. - he leaned his forehead against hers. She looked up, into his baby blue eyes as her hand hoovered over his arm. - I didn’t want ... I didn’t mean to delude you. 

    - You didn’t fail me. - she brought his hand up to her lips, kissing the back of it before leaning her face against it. - It is not your fault that letter came in.

    - But I should know who it was ... or at least Steve should. He’s proving himself to be quite useless ... - he grumbled on, which made her hold in her laughter by biting the inside of her lip. - I’m sorry, dollface. I really am.

     - If you ever kiss my head when I’m trying to kiss you ever again, we will have severe problems. - she pointed her finger jokingly at him. 

     - Heard it loud and clear, princess. - he pulled her arm so she was chest to chest with him as if they were about to dance. - Just so we’re clear, I do not agree with those letters. 

      - Please don’t hide things from me. - her ring finger traced his cheekbone softly. - I can’t stand it from everyone but I personally can’t stand it coming from you. You’re the only one in my corner.

     - I’ll always be in your corner but I will want to protect you and I will sometimes do something stupid. 

      - Why do something stupid when you could do me? - she looked at him with that little shy grin which was just always so endearing to him. Bucky chuckled, leaning down to kiss her. It was a short kiss, broken by him merely to look at her pout.

     - You’re getting frisky, princess? 

     - Well, you did lose your chance to see what’s under my robe. - her fingers slightly rose the hem of her robe to show a bit of her lace garter before dropping it to grab her dress. - But I do need to grab some takeaway.

    - I’m going with you. - he followed into her own ensuite bathroom, but she stopped him, holding the door edge in her hand. - You were going to show it to me anyway. 

     - Next time don’t hide stuff from me. - she smiled before locking the door leaving him alone while she got dressed in a jumper like dress. Bucky leaned his forehead against the door, his mind going haywire as the minute she was gone he immediately started thinking of how he hadn’t found who was sending those letters. How come no one had figured it out? Surely whoever had done it couldn’t be that  good at covering their tracks unless they were a professional. Y/N exited the bathroom in her jumper dress and put her hands on the nape of his neck. Bucky took that opportunity to rise up the hem of her dress, watching the soft white stocking reach its end where it connected to her garter. - No, Bucky. No. 

     - When did you have this? I’ve never seen you wear it before. - he tried to pull it upwards a bit more but she stopped him by merely wrapping her hand around his wrist. - Did you buy it for me, princess?

    - Oh no, I wore this when I was 20. In front a 150 people audience. 

    - What? - he looked as confused as the day someone explained what the internet was to him. - Someone else has seen it? Why can’t I see it?

    - Because you’re not in the mood. - she walked away to grab her coat and her scarf. - Are you coming?

    - Oh, in more ways then one, princess. - he too grabbed his jacket, following her down the stairs.

He held her hand as they stepped outside, going into a mode he wasn’t used to going into very often. Everything and everyone was suspicious to him and at any moment, he felt like he was ready to kill someone with only a snap of his fingers. Bucky wanted that and at the same time he didn’t want it. It was a hard duality, that of wanting to defend her at all costs and ensure she was the happiest and that of wanting to just bask into how it felt to be hers, because, god, did it felt god to be hers. It was like waking up in spring mornings and all his mistakes seemed to fade whenever she smiled, the way her nose scrunched up and she hide her mouth with her hands, saying her smile was much to ugly for him to see it. Of course she was lying, her smile was the cutest thing. Yet, he wanted her safe, he wanted her to be endlessly happy. He could never get rid of his demons, of what they had done to him, but he could make sure no one hurt her, no one treated her like a commodity because she was everything but that. 

    - Claire said Aunt Petunia corned you about babies. - she spoke out as they waited on the line. - I’m sorry, I keep telling her not to but I think she’s in competition with her friend about it. 

     - It’s okay. - he chuckled. - Do you want one?

     - Baby?

     - Yeah, do you want a kid someday?

     - I do but only one. I think my mum and dad lost a pound of hair each time me and my siblings bickered. Besides, Colin almost made me believe you were cheating on me.

    - What?

    - Yeah. I was desperate, I called Chuck for help. Chuck. Also, I think he’s dating.

    - Circling back to the baby question ... would you consider a baby, maybe you and me have one, someday?

    - You want to have a baby with me? - she peered up from looking at her shoes to look at him. Bucky immediately regretted the question, she was young and probably not thinking about kids. - Buck?

    - Forget it.

    - No, Bucky. I didn’t mean it like that ... I just thought you wouldn’t want to have kids. 

    - I don’t know. - he scratched the back of his neck. - I mean, I don’t really have much family left and I’d like to think, maybe someday, we could have our own.

    - Bucky ...

    - I’m freaking you out.

    - No. I’ve thought about it too, buying a house, having a baby, but ... everything I do is controlled and scheduled and tight lipped so I tend not to day dream about it. 

    - Hey ... - he hooked his arm under her waist, pulling her close to him. - You still have agency and besides, I’m really good at going undercover if you need to. 

    - You always know what to say. 

    - That’s because you’re predictable, princess.

    - I am not. - she retorted, pouting as she crossed her arms. 

    - Yes, you are, princess.

    - Really? - she cocked an eyebrow at him, before standing on her tip toes to whisper against his hear. - I’m not wearing any underwear. 

    - What? - he blushed as Y/N smiled before stepping forward to collect the takeaway bags from the customer assistant. Bucky cleared his throat as the two of them walked outside. - I thought you had something to show me.

    - I did but then I realised it is really uncomfortable to be in that lingerie, so I took it off.

Bucky felt most of his blood travelled south as he looked up and down her body. Damn it, suddenly her home felt so far away from the restaurant. He couldn’t help but stare at her body as  they  walked down the street, the way her dress draped over what he now knew was her naked body. Part of him felt jealous that she was in such a state in front of everyone else but the other part, the most overwhelming one, wanted to push her into an alley and take her right there and then and maybe he would’ve done so if he hadn’t seen a few paparazzi trying to appear invisible. He put himself on her left, mostly covering her, wrapping his hand around hers as he picked up the pace to get to her place. Once again he stood behind her as she opened her door, so close her could smell her daisy perfume and if he were a bit younger and lacked self control, he would’ve drowned her neck in hickeys. However, he thought seeing himself display some strong PDA with his girlfriend on the next morning’s paper. She took her jacket off, hanging it on the hooks by the door.

   - We’re going. - he whispered against her ear as she placed the takeaway bags on the kitchen. She opened her mouth to protest, wanting to defend her right to have the yummy food she had just bought but Bucky gave her no chance to do so, instead holstering her upon his shoulder and climbing up the stairs.

Y/N waved at her younger brother who stopped in his tracks as Bucky passed through him and straight into her bedroom. Before she could protest once more, he laid her on her own bedroom, climbing on top of her and started to kiss her neck which replaced the half done protests with small moans. His hand slide up her left to her tight, rising the dress in the process and sure enough, she had not been lying about not wearing any underwear. Other than the garter which held up the sheer white stockings, she was a bare as the day she was born. Bucky took a moment to appreciate it, the bare woman laid on the bed under him, looking at him as if he were the only man in the world.

   - I must say, princess. Whatever you had to show me can’t be better than this.

   - Maybe my food downstairs is better. 

   - You’re not walking down any stairs anytime soon, after I’m done with you. - he leaned down to kiss her, a harsh full of need kiss as if he hadn’t seen her in decades.

She smiled through the kiss, hands held over his neck as he placed kisses and sucked her skin in places she was sure to get a hickey the next day, but it didn’t matter. In all honesty, nothing really mattered when he kissed her. Y/N held her hands up as he took off the dress and basked in her nakedness. Screw all the women he had ever slept with, no one compared to her. It didn’t have to do with beauty or even seduction. She was just her, just herself in her own naked glory standing under him, eyes shining with a naive like lust as she awaited his next movement. Bucky should’ve done something else but he decided just to kiss her, fingers caressing the soft skin of her face.

    - What is it? - she asked as he interrupted the kiss once more.

    - You are the most wonderful thing in my life, Y/N. - he kissed her once more, one hand coming to remove his own trousers. 

Her lips stretched into a small smile as she rose her forehead to press it against his. She mumbled a small I love you, kissing the side of his lips as he pushed his cock into her. Her lips stretched into a gasp as he grunted once he shed himself completely inside her, eyes closed as he let the feeling of being inside of her take complete hold of him. She continued mid gasp, not a single thought forming inside her mind rather than how good he felt, how full she was. 

Bucky opened his eyes, baby blues almost navy coloured as his hand pushed some of her hair away from her face, kissing her to silence her little gaps and moans which came out in such meek tones, it made him even hard just from listening to them. The kiss was forceful, his lips  swallowing all her sounds as he slowly circled his hips against hers, one hand holding the side of her hips with a vice like grip. He pushed his hips back, removing himself from her only to thrust back into her, establishing a slow and delayed pace, grip strong enough to leave a bruise the next day. She whined, nails dug into the fabric of the sleeveless tank top he had not taken off. 

   - Bucky, please ... - she pleaded, tears pooling in her eyes. - Faster.

   - No, princess. You’ve been so bad lately ... what should I do with you? - he stopped moving, stilling inside of her.

   - Move? Please?

   - Giving me handjobs in a plane, pouting when you don’t get attention, walking around without underwear. That’s not good girl behaviour.  

   - Bucky ... - she tried to rock her hips against his but he stopped her, hand firmly pressing her against the mattress. - Bucky, please.

   - I don’t know, princess. - he leaned into the crook of her neck, playfully bitting her  sensitive skin, before kissing it and doing it again. - You look so pretty when you’re begging for my cock. I almost want to see it more. Maybe leave you like this all night, what about that?

   - Please, Bucky. Please. - a tears rolled down her cheek as she tried once again to rock her hips against his into a pointless effort. - Please, please, I need it.

   -  I know. You got so upset when I didn’t fuck you last night, dollface. - he moved out and into her in a long, slow motion, earning more moans from her. - You’re just becoming so needy for me, princess. 

   - Please. - she pouted, raising up to kiss him, her hands moving up to try and take off his shirt but he refused, shutting her actions by starting to relentlessly thrust in and out of her as if he had been possessed by mere lust. Y/N threw her head back as his hand grabbed her breast harshly and he continued to relentlessly fuck her.

Her  legs trembled as he went back to paying attention to her neck and jaw, the mix of all the emotions chasing her high. She whined, trying to deal with all she was feeling from his lips against her neck, his hand massaging her breast and flicking her nipple every once in a while as well as his cock veins against the walls of her channel.  She managed to open her eyes for a few seconds and swore she could cum merely at the sight of him as he moved away from her neck to thrust faster into her, head thrown back, pink reddish lips opened in a circle, sweat forming in hairline. She had done that, she had gotten him to look so lost in pleasure and that was as stimulating as something could get. 

His hand left her breast to start circling her clit, slowly and painful, a harsh contrast with the fast pace. Her own hand replaced the place that had once been occupied by his hand on her breast, biting her lip as he continued with his motions. Bucky did not stop until she reached her orgasm, the tight feeling in her lower stomach exploding into a particular high pitch moan which he silenced by kissing her, reminding her her parents were still downstairs after all. He didn’t take long to reach his own orgasm either, continuing to thrust quickly into her until ropes and ropes of cum painted her walls. The orgasm weakened his hold over her for a few seconds, leading to him collapsing to her side, pushing her along with him. Bucky slipped out of her, reaching up to kiss her lips followed by a small kiss to her nose. 

   - Hi. - she said shyly,  cuddling against his chest as he pushed a cover over her body. - No more secrets, promise me.  

   - I can’t promise that. I can promise that whatever I do, I do it because I love you and I want you safe. 

   - Buck.

   - I will try. - he kissed her forehead. - Good?

   - Good.

She remained in his arms, cuddling against his chest, listening to the sound of his heart beat softly against his ribcage. It felt good, it felt good to feel loved, to hear the heartbeat of someone who loved her, someone who existed, someone who she had only dreamed about and now existed in real life and loved her. The two watched the old clock on her table turn to midnight. Christmas day. She looked up to him, extending to give him a quick kiss.

   - Merry Christmas, love.

   - Merry Christmas, princess. - he kissed her nose. 

   - I thought we could trade presents between us. Make it special. 

   - Me first. - he said and before she could ever argue, he was rolling out of bed with a small blanket covering his nudity to grab a present wrapped in festive wrapping paper with her name written on it. He sat on the bed, next to her, pushing the duvet to cover her so she wouldn’t be cold. - I hope you like it.

   - I’m sure I will. - Y/N smiled at him before proceeding to unwrap her present. It was a book and one she recognised very well from seeing pictures on Google whenever she looked around jokingly for first editions on Ebay. - Buck, it’s too much. I can’t.

   - It’s mine. Well, it used to be mine but now it’s yours. 

   - How do you even know I like the Hobbit?

   - Chuck told me.

   - You and Chuck talk? - she giggled, unable to picture her best friend having a conversation with Bucky who was always brooding.

   - We don’t but whenever we’re on set, he just keeps talking. He said you liked it, so I thought it would be fun if you had the one I read when I was what? About your age?

   - Oh okay, grampa. - she poked his chest jokingly before handing him his present.

Bucky kissed the side of her temple, opening the package to see an album like photo with his name written in gold. He gave her a confused look but she merely nodded her head, telling him to open the book. Once he did, he saw “All the times Bucky Barnes was a hero” written in her handwriting followed by pages and pages of articles calling him a hero, the saviour of the day and other words he did not equalise with himself. 

   - I know you don’t believe you’re a good man but I do and it’s not just me who thinks it. There has been darkness in your  life but the way you continued onwards, doing good to the world which hurt you ... that’s noble. - he heard her voice almost in a echo like fashion as he moved page after page. It did not only ranged from his time in the Howling Commandos but even til now, with recent missions and facts. Everything was there, different journal cut outs, different testimonies. Everything. 

Bucky looked to his side, looked at her who was smiling at the book in his hand which she had put together and he knew. He just knew.

   - Y/N?

   - Hm?

   - Marry me. 

taglist: @disasterbii @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me @americasass81 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @lostinthebeans @mariahthelioness29 @bbabysbaby @peaches-roses-sins @theadorasabditory @sipsteacasually @saiyanprincessswanie @booktease21 @noiralei @learisa @everythingisoverratedbutgreat @uglipotata72829 @naturalthrone22 @husherstan @mandiiblanche​ @vicmc624 @newyorkgoddess @itsallyscorner @chipilerendi @emzd34 @writerwrites​ @bluevxnus​ @that-girl-named-alex​ @captnrogers​ @nsfwsebbie​ @sarge-barnes-sir​

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The Enforcers Part 8 (Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader)

wc: 1.7k

tw: dark content (self-harm)

masterlist

a/n: By no means do I condone self-harm or want to glorify it in the light of this chapter. As a person who struggled with physical self-harm in her early teens, I know the destructive nature of this type of activity. However, as my characters are not perfect and complicated, I see this particular mode of action as something she would try to do in order to alleviate her pain and confusion. If you have questions or concerns, my inbox is always open to having a discussion about it.

If you so wish, you may skip this chapter altogether. There will be a recap on the next one if you choose to skip for your mental health. Take care of yourselves and see you soon. (ALSO, I know I promised smut but I gotta give y'all a raincheck this go-round. SORRY PLS DON'T KILL ME)

You're on your forty-seventh file of scandals, coverups, and secret dossiers that you finally feel it. The fabric of your identity begins to unravel right before your eyes.

Everything you've known is a lie.

The CSB has covered up so many things. So many lives lost. So many people forced to flee. So many families ripped apart--

An email makes its way over to the server, and you open it, the words across the screen coming from Suguru.

I know it's late, but send over Yu Haibara's files when you can.

You hit the reply button and begin to type out: "You mean the boy you killed?" but you stop yourself, deleting the words rapidly. Instead, you attach the files and send them over, not even bothering to look at them. You can't do it. Not another file could be stored away in the annals of your brain.

Nothing is as it seems anymore. The lies... they pile up in your mind, flooding the spaces where you used to hold what you thought was true, what you thought was real. Now, they're overflowing out of your brain and into your heart and soul, plaguing you like the nightmares that face you down night after night, more like demons that lurk in the corners of your mind than full file cabinets.

You always wake up in a tangle of sheets and sweat, one of your various enemies' faces hovering over you right before you stare down the barrel of a gun and --

You stumble out of the chair, eyes wet with tears, and go to the sink in the bathroom to wash your face. After you splash water on your skin, you look up at your reflection, anger rolling through you at the way you look. Weak.

You're fucking weak.

The voice in your head that usually told you that you were doing okay, that you had it all under control, is now turning on you, spitting nasty words that stick in between the synapses of your brain a muddy your rational thoughts.

The voices rise to a fever pitch, and you suddenly see red, the entirety of the world descending into blood-colored madness. The shattering of the glass mirror only becomes a reality when you're standing above the sink, chest heaving as your thoughts silence one by one, like shutting off lights in a house.

But only one stays behind as a shard of the mirror clinks into the sink.

Escape.

The light at the end of the tunnel.

You could get rid of the feelings here. You could get rid of the thoughts. You could escape. Why hadn't you thought about this before?

"Do it."

Your fingers grip the jagged shard of glass carefully, and before you can stop yourself, you drag it across the inside of your wrist, end to end, leaving behind a red line of blood that immediately blooms. Crimson dots drop into the sink, and you stare at the color, mesmerized by the way the blood runs down your arm and into the porcelain bowl. But there's no relief.

No sense of freedom.

Maybe you didn't do it hard enough?

Maybe you didn't--

The door to your room slams open, and you turn your head just as Suguru comes rushing into the bathroom. The shard of glass is still in your hand, as well as the blood running down your arm, and Suguru catches this immediately.

"Fuck," he breathes, and you turn to him, shard extended.

"Don't come any closer."

"Y/n," he calmly whispers. "You don't look so good."

"I wonder why that is," you reply, and Suguru stares back at you, hands raised in surrender.

"What're you doing?"

"What does it look like, Suguru?" you state in a trance. Your bullet wound begins to throb dully, but you ignore it, just like you're ignoring the blood dripping onto the tile flooring.

"Y/n, let's think about this."

"I don't want to think anymore!" The shrill scream is loud enough to make Suguru flinch, and you softly repeat, "I don't want to think anymore," over and over again as tears run down your face.

"I know," Suguru whispers. "I know. Will you let me help you?" You hiccup and drop the piece of glass to the floor, dissolving in a heap of tears and moans. You feel hands pulling you up from the floor and into strong arms, your head being cradled against a broad chest you've felt before. "Go ahead," Suguru encourages you. "Cry it out."

He carries you to another room in the building in silence, laying you on a firm bed and disappearing as you heave painful sobs into the sheets.

"Everything... hurts..." you gasp, and when Suguru reappears with a white bundle of cloth, a bandage roll, and some water, he nods.

"We're going to make it better, don't worry." He takes your injured arm and carefully wipes away the blood, examing the cut slowly. "Doesn't need stitches, thankfully." He turns to open the water bottle and hands it to you, silently telling you to drink while he bandages your wrist.

You drink the water greedily then lean back on the headboard, eyes closing down as Suguru works diligently on your wound. And then you remember the first time he did this for you and the mistake you made in your pridefulness.

"Thank you," you murmur, and Suguru looks up at your face, finally seeing some form of clarity cross your tear-streaked cheeks.

"You're welcome," he replies tenderly. "I have to keep you safe, remember? I promised you that I would." You don't answer him, but he finishes at that exact moment anyways, standing and placing the remnants of the bandage roll on the nightstand. The wound is now covered up completely, with no sign of blood seeping through the cotton and staining the white cloth dark red.

You watch as Suguru crawls into the bed beside you, sighing deeply as he runs his fingers through his locks. "Should I stay awake with you or do you want to try to sleep?"

"Sleep," you answer - albeit not confidently - and the black-eyed man obliges, pulling the thin sheet over you.

"I'll be right here," he affirms, but you reach out your uninjured arm and touch his hand. He instantly turns his palm up to let you grab his fingers, and you pull him closer to you in the king-sized bed.

"Hold me." A second passes with no movement, and Suguru whispers,

"Are you sure?" You nod, and he wordlessly scoots closer, wrapping an arm around you as you nestle into his side with your bandaged hand resting on his chest. His fingers rub a soft pattern up and down your skin, soothing you to the brink of sleep. "I've got you. We'll deal with everything else in the morning," Suguru murmurs as you slip off into a dreamless - and nightmare-less - sleep.

_____________________________________________________________

Morning comes and goes.

Midday arrives, and you awaken from your terrorless sleep still encased in Suguru's grasp. Your eyes flick up to his face, which is peaceful in the midday light streaming in from the windows. The Leader of the Fallen Sun District is asleep and dead to the world around him, but the sound of his breathing lets you know he's on the brink of waking up.

Part of you doesn't want him to. You want to lay there without any responsibilities to him, without any concern, or further harm to either one of you. Maybe if you continued to sleep, all of this would become a distant memory. All of this would go away, and you could go back to living in ignorance.

But Suguru's stirring makes you stiffen, and you feel his arms tighten around you before sliding away.

"You're awake."

"Yeah," you whisper, and he sits up, pulling his knees to his chest.

"We need to talk about last night." You sit up as well, staring at the edge of the bed blankly. "Why didn't you tell someone about your declining mental health?"

"I didn't realize it until it was too late," you admit, looking at the bandage on your wrist. "But I won't be doing that again."

"Doesn't matter," Suguru interjects, looking over at you. You choose to avoid his gaze and stare at your feet, inhaling deeply. "I have to have someone watch you now. I want you to be safe, and now I'm not sure if I can ensure that without some oversight on my part."

"No," you exhale quickly, looking over at him in fear. "I'm better now, I promise."

"I'll have someone move a few of your things over here. That way I can keep an eye on you, just in case." Suguru continues, standing from his position on the bed. "I won't bother you. But I made a promise to you, and I'm going to keep it at all costs." He turns back to you, stating, "Today we'll take a day off and go into the town. I've been wanting to show you around for a while anyway."

You conclude the argument is over when he places a kiss on your temple, then walks into his bathroom, shutting the door and leaving you on the bed alone.

_____________________________________________________________

A car picks both of you up from the building, and when you slide into the backseat, Suguru points to the expanse in the distance.

"Take us to the marketplace." The driver nods, scars running up and down his pale face and his blue eyes looking up at you in the rearview mirror. Does this man even know that he's sitting next to the leader of the Fallen Sun district? Or is Kenjaku a faceless man, hiding behind walls of ones and zeroes?

The scenes that pass by you look identical to those of the city you know and love. There are children playing on the sidewalks, people carrying groceries, life carrying on as if the majority of their names aren't on some rejected list of people who defected from their previous society. Suguru notices your awe at the way things are, and looks over at you, smiling brightly.

"You'd be surprised what you can build from ashes, y/n."

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @missbonekitty @wack0-genius @thankuary @jsqeeut @r-i-m-f-009 @sunfloweroranges @leanne-tamashi @girlruby23 @rein-icu @brownskinnedgirll @chanelmalandro @savantsoulfinder @jibe-gajima @chilledlucifer @amnxsia @kontentious @fuyuko26 @everybodylovescayrayray @flare-on @sammytamaki @meena-in-a-nutshell @falling-through-pages @naoyasdarling

[riofann]

Rio Random 4

Things got a lot better after that, to your surprise. But you had both decided that you were basically going to do a redo and actively  work on your relationship. It was a bit difficult at first. But you felt better when you saw Mick removing drugs from your house. He also got you a security system that you could look at from your phone to see who has been in and around the house. You didn’t smell Beth around your house as often either. You actually didn't hear much about Beth, as far as you were concerned things were being dealt with.   

Rio would stop by two times a week at least on top of dates breakfast, lunch, brunch, dinner, or dessert. He was a romantic at heart actually, you would find flowers at home or at work sitting on your desk. He often used to look at you and smile which made you blush. You also met Marcus and Rhea one night at a state fair. Rhea was like Rio, hard to read you could see why the two ended up together. All together your relationship was far from perfect but you could honestly say you were happy. 

One late afternoon you rushed home from work. Rio had sent you a text saying he had left a present for you. He often did this when he found lingerie that he liked and wanted you to wear it. Some dates he had dressed you from head to toe, others he provided the undergarments. Not that your taste was bad but he enjoyed doing this. 

When you open the door to your home you hear voices coming from the bottom of your house before you could turn around and walk away you come face to face with a strange woman. 

“Uh hi” Ruby greets uneasily 

“Who are you?” You ask 

“Uh Krystal”

Quickly Beth comes around the corner “Oh Y/N I was just ummm....”

You close your door now pissed, what are you doing in my house. Mick had moved all the drugs from your home, Rio had promised you nothing was left in your house. You looked around to see your house in disarray before turning your attention back to Beth  and these other women.

“Oh well Rio wanted me to drop off something”

“Did he? Inside my house? He doesn’t even have a key, so how’d you get in?” 

“Well Mick helped with that” “Okay what are you dropping off” 

“Uh,” “Right let me just give him a call I’m sure he would love to hear about this”

“NO! Let's not bother him you know he is busy right Be... be be because he wouldn't like that right Krys?” Annie interjects

“Or should I call the police?”

Without warning Beth pulled out her gun and pointed it at you

“What are you doing?” Ruby asked in horror 

“Alright Sit” she says motioning with the gun 

“Are you gonna tell me what you're doing here in my house Elizabeth?”

Instinctively the two women looked at her as she looked shocked as well “How did you?” 

“Elizabeth Boland, you have  5 children with your ex husband Dean right? Used to be a stay at home wife? Did I get that right?” 

“SIT!” she demands “No, what are you gonna do? shoot me?”

“SIT!” she turns to look at Annie and Ruby before turning her attention back to you “Who told you?” 

“Oh uh Mrs. Doubtfire...  Yea i was stopping by to give you that book i borrowed and she said there was no such thing as Krystal had no idea what i was talking about then she told me everything”

“That damn woman” 

“SIT!” 

“NO!  If you're gonna point a gun at me then I expect you to shoot.” 

Ruby tugs at her arm “Beth lets just go” “NO ITS HERE” she yells while yanking her arm back  “you think you are so special, that's what he does you know. Make you feel special then he just dumps you like you're nothing!”

“But I’m not you Beth, and i'm not Rio, so whatever you're looking for its not here and whatever beef you have take it up with him”

“I SAID SIT!” 

“I'm not deaf i don't know why you're yelling” 

“Beth” Annie tries to calm the situation Beth with a bewildered look turns to look at Annie “NO!”

“This is bad” Ruby comments 

“You can't just threaten her life because of some guy....Beth” Annie states  

“I am not all I need her to do is sit Annie!....I know that it’s here it just has to be...” 

As they argued within themselves you felt like it was the perfect opportunity to sneak away as you got close to the door. You turned abruptly to open it when you heard commotion followed by  sharp pain on your side, you looked down to see blood seeping through your clothes. You slowly fall to the floor back resting against the wall. 

“OH MY GOD BETH!” “SHE WAS GETTING AWAY” she defends “HE IS GOING TO KILL US” Annie states looking at her sister like she had 5 heads “I’M SO SORRY Y/N” she says rushing towards you 

“YOU BITCH” You kick her in the chest causing her to fall back, you groan and hold onto your side 

“This isn't good please don't kick me none of this was supposed to happen” Ruby says slowly crouching down next to you

“Put pressure on it” Annie instructs

“I need towels!” 

“It's gonna be okay” Ruby tries her best to sooth you “I can't believe you” 

“I didn't” Beth says while holding onto your wound

Annie rushed back with towels in hand

“Uh guys we have to take her to the hospital” You don’t know when it happens but you start to fade away “Y/N! Can you stand?” “Y/N!” Annie calls your name “she's not... Y/N stay awake 

“What's wrong with you?” Ruby scolds

“What? Ruby..” 

“Why are you trigger happy”

“It was an accident, help me get her in the car!” 

“Well we can't go out the front door”

“Then help me get her through the fucking back door Annie”

“Oh my god” Annie says throwing her hands up 

When 30 minutes pass Rio is beyond infuriated with you. You were not picking up his calls or answering his texts and from what he knew you were at home.He doesn’t  know why you flaked on him, he thinks you were in a drunken slumber wondering how you got back into it, you had shown signs of improvement. 

When he gets to your house however he opens the door, he hears Coconut’s barking and he immediately spots the pool of blood by the door

“Go find her is all he needs to say to Mick”  

He walks through your home, there were multiple holes cut in your walls, holes in the cushion seat on the couch, furniture overturned. When he walks into the bedroom everything is in disarray just like the living area. Carefully he walks down the steps and spots your bag. He thinks you were ambushed. His mind goes into overdrive and is thinking of who would have the gull to do such a thing as far as he was concerned everyone knew enemy wise especially in this line of business that children and wives/girlfriends were out of the question. So whoever had the gull to do such a thing was bold and he’s wondering who it could be. He makes a few calls before he’s sitting in front of your laptop trying to log in. another phone call and he’s given the password. When he looks through the security footage nothing but rage takes over. 

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

After pacing the floor in silence Ruby explodes with emotion “He is going to kill us!” 

“He doesn't know where we are” Beth counters

“I have a child Beth and I need to call Stan and let him know what’s going on!” 

“So do I Ruby, I have 5 to be exact,  he wont do anything she's just a placeholder anyway”

Ruby looks at her in disbelief “Are you kidding me he broke up with YOU to be with HER she is no placeholder”

“She's not special he can find another woman  like her anytime soon” Beth states dismissively 

“Beth i don't like this you need to call him and tell him it was a  mistake” Annie jumps into the conversation 

“Relax he doesn't know where we are he’s not stupid plus Dean will throw his ass in jail”

Putting her hands up Ruby states “I can’t believe you” before she walks away A brief moment of silence before Beth’s phone starts ringing

When they all look at the phone only unknown flashes through the screen after the 5th time the screen is black for good

“Elizabeth please for our sake just tell him” Ruby pleads “we can’t be hidden forever” 

“NO! Now shut up and let me think!” 

“Or what you're gonna shoot me” Ruby expresses frustrated 

“It was an accident!” 

Ruby scoffs, “Like shooting him too? I'm starting to think you’re trigger happy”

“Don't start accusing me you shot someone in the foot!” 

“That was an accident! We all know it was, but you just can't let this life go huh. You can't let this power go so whoever stands in your way you're gonna get rid of them” 

Beth walked up to Ruby looking at her right in the eye “You're right so move out of my way” she didn't have time to be arguing with her so if that meant intimidating her she would. 

Annie quickly got between the two and separated them. “Guys i cant right now please not now, i can't deal with this, we just need to stick together” 

Beth was right Rio couldn't locate them at first but he had found you. You were in the surgical icu stabilizing after your surgery. Because you were considered a Jane Doe no one was really allowed to see you, but Rio had his connections and he walked in to see you fast asleep before walking out. He says nothing as Mick drives him over to Beth’s house. Nothing was out of the ordinary except Beth was missing. He also had other cars posted outside of Ruby’s house and Annie's. 

“Aii bet” he hangs up the phone irritated that no one could locate Beth, she had become a protégé, so good at hiding things from him now. 

"You gon’ have to get rid of her” Mick states before looking at Rio,  “She shot you, planned your assassination," he scoffs "stolen, sabotaged, lied, how much more you gon let her get away with"

“I cant get rid of her, if i do i gotta deal with the other 2, not to mention the stupid ass husbands that's almost 10 kids in foster care, too much heat its bad for business now anyway, plus I'm still under the microscope cuz of Turner” 

“Both can’t co exist  though, so you either with Beth or you with Y/N.”

“Fuck me”

“Gotta make a move boss”

“Ima figure something out” 

It takes 2 days but he finally locates them. Abruptly woken from their sleep and thrown in a van they find themselves in an unknown place, kneeling in front of him, with plastic bags underneath them. 

“Please i have children” Beth tries to plead her case 

Rio’s shoulders roll back before he speaks “Nah see you can’t keep doing that mama, you can't keep provoking me and asking for mercy cuz you got kids.”

“I'm a mother, they need their mother!”

“Please Rio” Ruby interjects 

“See that's the problem, I hoped you being a mother, you would actually be more careful but I get it now. You just wanna be reckless and use me as your cover. Shoot me 3 times it's my fault. Steal my fault, lie my fault, plot to kill me my fault" his shoulders roll "what was Y/N’s fault why you shoot her?" Already knowing the answer he wanted to see what she would  say 

"She knows my name I know you told her"

"She's my girl"

"Right just like I was but unlike her you can't replace me you need me!” 

"Humor me Beth, are you jealous?" 

Beth scoffs “of what?"  

"Y/N"

She scoffs again "you wish! You probably get off knowing 2 women want you" 

He licks his bottom lip and smiles. It takes a minute before he speaks “So what should i do with you, all of you? I know I’m tired of this game, we’ve been playing it for too long. Aint y’all tired of wondering if im gon kill you?” He asks addressing Annie and Ruby

“Please I promise to walk away” Annie offers 

“Annie shut up!” Beth scolds 

“NO! YOU SHUT UP BETH GOD YOU ARE SELFISH! ALWAYS HAVE BEEN!” 

“Annie I’m trying to....” Before she can finish she stops after she hears her phone ringing  

Rio looks down at the phone “Talk it out I gotta take this call” he says before walking away 

The girls don’t say anything but look at each other. When they see him return Beth comments “I got this let me speak.” waiting for him to sit down before she begins “You can’t kill us and you know it. So you can run back to your little girlfriend and kiss her wound and tell her she's special and I'll go back to doing my thing” she says snidely Both Annie and Ruby looked at her shocked.

“She is, it could have been you but the 3 bullets kinda changed my mind”

“OH MY GOD! Can you let that go!”

“I did then I found out you hired a hitman and some kid to shoot me. Things change all the time between us,  you know this”

“So what are you gonna do? Because we have work to do”

“I know.” He nods at the men behind them. The zip ties are cut before he walks away “I’ll see you around yea?”

When he leaves they all look at each other shocked that he even let them walk away. They remain in that position until all the men leave. 

“See I told you!”

“I can’t do this Beth you need some serious help and I’m not willing to wager my family as collateral for it”  Ruby states “It worked” “For you! Not for us, you think it's just a one woman show where you do everything? Like your actions don’t have any effect on our lives'' “Ruby it worked I don’t know why you’re being such a baby about it” “Yea well better that than you” 

Annie interjects once again  before things get heated “Guys can we just figure out how to get home”

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

“So what now?” Mick asks frustrated with the whole thing. “She still working for you?”  he knew the pattern all too well Beth would do something to get back at Rio 

“Nah we moving, leaving Michigan, getting new headquarters. She wanna run the business? Cool, but no protection, no muscle, no supply of weapons, no connections, yea she can print money but she can’t operate or deal, not without me. Make sure everyone knows if they entertain her they are dead. I don’t care what it is if I find out I’m putting a bounty on your head. She right though I can’t kill her but i can kill her business” 

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

It took a few days but when you regain consciousness in the hospital you see one of Rio’s men at least you’re assuming he is sitting by you. You two don’t speak and you go back to sleep. The next day police stop by to question you about your shooting, you tell them the story Rio’s guy told you, a home invasion gone wrong. They leave satisfied with the explanation. Rio comes to visit a few days after  you have been moved to a step down unit that was more private.

The door opens and you watch as he walks in “Rio”

Hey mama he approaches you with hands behind his back and as he gets closer a cute teddy bear that has ‘get well soon on it’ 

“How you feeling?”  he asks taking a seat next to you on the bed 

“I got shot” you state factually

“You got shot” he says moving the hair from your face 

“Where have you been? The cops came to see me”

“I know they stopped by, I was handling something. Did you tell them what Honcho told you to say?”

“Yes” 

He smiles and looks at you with a face you can’t quite read

“So where is she?” 

You were hoping he would say dead in a ditch somewhere or something along the lines of ‘you never have to worry about her’ but what he said made you more angry

“At home”

“She's alive?”

“Yea” 

You roll your eyes, was she gonna be thorn on your side for the rest of your life with Rio? “But she won’t bother you” “Yea said that last time and now i have a bullet hole on my side that says otherwise” “Nah she won’t be able to reach you this time cuz we leaving, after you get discharged” 

“What? You want me to move?” 

“Yea,we can...”  You interrupt "There's no we anymore, you're like a bad omen. In less than a year since  i met you I get shot and now i have a bullet wound because of your unhinged ex that you couldn't keep in check and you still think there's a 'we' " 

“I told you,” he runs his hand down his chin “i asked you to be patient” he speaks softly 

“Be patient, meant with you! So you could change not ‘be patient, my crazy ex who i can't control will shoot you months from now but i still need you to understand” you say sarcasm laced in your tone 

“Y/N” “You told me to treat you like any other guy on the street, so I am. We are done!” 

“You can't stay here” he stresses “Why not?” “Beth isn’t my only enemy, and once she finds out my plans she will go to them for revenge” 

“So where are we going? I have a career here! Aunt Brenda and Mia, my parents, I visit their graves often”  

“They can come visit you, You can always get another job, it’s not safe for you here Y/N”

“Was it ever safe? Didn’t you have enemies before? Was I not in danger then” 

“This is different, Beth is vengeful I can’t risk it” 

“Where are we going?” 

“I can't tell you, not now I’m still figuring that out” 

“Typical” “Listen i'm packing up your house I’m gonna get you a new place in a new city you'll get a job” 

“Rio are you kidding me you want me to just up and leave?” “Yea,” he stands up and looks down at you  “it’s non negotiable, i gotta protect you, after you get discharged we leaving” 

“Protect me? From who? The only person I need protection from is you. Rein que le diable (nothing but the devil)” 

He stares at you for a moment  “get some rest” he says before kissing your forehead. He didn’t care about how you felt in the moment protecting you, Marcus, and Rhea were his top priority and he knew that always came with push back no matter who he was talking to.

A/N: as always tell me what you think. Not really a fan of this chapter didn’t know how to go around it. 

[s1utspeare]

to the writing challenge prompt list: liu sang (you guessed it!) and liberosis 👀 bc what else would I want other than PainTM

oooohhhh Vishie you do know the way to a girl’s heart (in reference to this post; send me some prompts!!)

liberosis—the desire to care less about things

It’s a long way down the mountain.

The only blessing is that the pain is less. Sure, the world is sweeping in great, broad strokes underneath his feet, and there’s a ringing in his head that’s louder than anything he’s heard before, but it doesn’t hurt, per say. At least not physically.

Their little caravan goes something like this; Wu Xie is carrying Jia Kezi, as Wu Xie is now, irony of all ironies, healthier than pretty much all of them put together, except for maybe Ouxiang, who is currently helping Pangzi hop along. The big man is talking loudly to his two best friends, probably to distract himself from the pain of a compound leg fracture. Occasionally, Wu Xie will put a hand out to keep Pangzi upright, the three of them molded together once again, as they should be.

Hei Xiazi plods along behind them. He’d volunteered to carrying Jia Kezi himself, but he’s currently got a bullet floating in his abdomen, so Wu Xie had declined his offer. Despite this, Hei-ye seems relatively okay, which is probably due to his strange superhumanness, though his face is somber, pale. Li Jiale is a few steps behind him, which Liu Sang privately thinks is a bit funny; blind, mute, and now deaf. What a group they are.

(It’s not funny, actually. He doesn’t know why he said that.)

Liu Sang and Bai Haotian are bringing up the rear, due to being the shortest and, as much as he’s loathe to admit it, the weakest. Bai Haotian seems to have decided that she’s his personal bodyguard now, which confuses him a lot, because in any other circumstances, he would be protecting her. But ever since... well, since, she’s taken a stance next to him like a sentinel, and even glared at Wu Xie once when he approached too quickly and Liu Sang flinched because he couldn’t hear him coming. 

Yeah. He couldn’t hear him coming. Fuck. 

If he wasn’t so tired, he’d probably be in the middle of a full-blown panic attack, which he has a feeling will be coming later. He’s... there’s a lot going on, in his brain, underneath the ringing and the migraine that’s been pounding steadily against his skull since he took on a headful of dynamite, because, surprise, losing your hearing doesn’t automatically get rid of the pain you already did to your brain before your eardrums ruptured. So there’s still a tattoo beat behind his eyes and clawing at the back of his neck, and he kind of wants to shake his head, pound on the side until he stops feeling like there’s bugs crawling around under his skin. 

That had not been a pleasant experience. At all. A soft buzz, and then, before he could react, the sharp pinch of something that shouldn’t be there, carving into his ears and rooting around inside. He doesn’t remember collapsing on Pangzi, doesn’t even know why he did, really, except for that his body sensed an intruder and went into full lockdown mode. The phantom sensation of legs and wings brushing along his ear canal makes him shiver, and he can’t help it, he jerks his neck to the side, trying to fling the feeling far away. 

His balance has turned to shit, though, because two perforated eardrums mean that your inner gravitational sensory system is fucked, so the movement ends up over-correcting him to the side, where he knocks into Bai Haotian’s shoulder and almost sends both of them flying. Luckily for her, though, he’s maybe at a quarter of what his strength should normally be, so she just stumbles a bit, able to keep them both upright. 

Sure doesn’t seem like it though. Everything tips on its end, and he finds himself looking at the sky while still on his feet which is a weird sort of view. Also his neck feels like putty. Hm. Maybe he should throw up. 

Unfortunately, that doesn’t really solve any of his problems except to make him dizzier, and when his body gets done heaving onto the trail, he finds that someone has sat him down on a large rock and is pressing a cool hand to his forehead. He blinks rapidly, dumbly, at Wu Xie, who is hovering in front of him, and his mouth is moving. 

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” Liu Sang tells him. Again. How loud is he talking? He has no idea. His vocal cords vibrate in a way that makes it seem like it’s fairly loud, but he can’t hear. He can’t hear it, he can’t fucking hear—

Oh, yup, here comes the panic. 

He pushes Wu Xie away, clumsily, and tries to stand up again, but haha, his balance is actually garbage, so he just pitches forward into someone’s arms, and it’s Wu Xie again because of course it fucking is, why is he still here? He was supposed to leave Liu Sang behind, he was supposed to go, Liu Sang wasn’t supposed to make it out—oh. Oh. He wasn’t supposed to say that, was he? 

Wu Xie’s face swims before him, and his mouth is open too wide for normal speech, so he must be shouting, which makes sense, because Liu Sang has just told him a really big secret. But it’s the truth, isn’t it? Wu Xie has to know that. 

Liu Sang is supposed to be dead. 

He almost wants to laugh, because it seems like the world’s cruelest joke, almost, that they’re all mostly alive. Because fuck. Liu Sang almost had his throat slit, almost had his skull beaten in, almost had a bug eat his brain. And at that point, with Wu Xie sick and drowning in his own lungs and dying, with their chances of survival dwindling down to nothing as they tried to find the right combination of choices to make it to Thunder City, he’d done the calculations. Liu Sang’s not just good hearing and a fake Zhang tattoo; he’s smart. It’s what’s kept him alive. It’s what was going to kill him. 

When Pangzi held up the stick of dynamite next to the thunder columns, the calculations went like this:

Wu Xie is dying. The only way he survives is by getting to the Artifact. That’s it.

If Wu Xie dies, Ouxiang and Pangzi are dying. There’s no shape with only two sides.

If Ouxiang and Pangi die, Bai Haotian dies. She’s twenty; she’s fucking twenty years old. She’s not dying in some stupid tomb in the middle of nowhere, alone, by herself.

Maybe Hei-Xiazi makes it out. Maybe. But Mr. Jiao is here, too, and even Hei-ye can’t outrun a firing squad.

Liu Sang is their best weapon, right now. That’s all. He’s always been useful, but right here, right now, this is where he does what he does best. This is where he listens. And if that happens to fuck over Mr. Jiao and Jiang Zisuan and every other fucking person who’s tried to kill them, then sure. Fuck it. It’s as much as he could’ve hoped for.

With only one ear, only one half of his whole, Liu Sang is basically already dead. Might as well make it official.

It’s just math. It’s logical. He was their best hope. Their only hope. You don’t save the bullets in your gun because shooting means they’re gone afterward. You just. You shoot.

He had made his peace with it. He was going to die in that tomb, in the caves, under the ground, alone. He was damaged, and he didn’t know if he would ever be able to work again like he had before. So he turned off the safety. Pulled the trigger. He’d given Wu Xie the rest of everything he had to offer, because somewhere along the way, he realized that he couldn’t bear to see him die.

He told himself that it was for Ouxiang, because Ouxiang would have been devastated without Wu Xie, but there’s some part of him, hidden under layers and layers of thorns, that recognized that losing Wu Xie would devastate Liu Sang, too. He didn’t want to watch that. He didn’t want to listen to that. And if he hadn’t been able to save Wu Xie, in the end, then at least he’d have gone first.

It was selfish, really.

He had pulled away from Wu Xie because he didn’t want to go, not because he couldn’t. He accepted the handful of peanuts from Pangzi with the intention of dropping them as soon as they were out of sight, because his stomach had been rolling too hard to even think of food, and he was so tired, so tired. He was ready. He was dying. He was going to curl up next to a stone wall, just out of sight of anyone who might pass by, and he was going to close his eyes and pretend that he wasn’t alone, wasn’t afraid, and then slowly, slowly, he was going to fall asleep. It would have been nice, he thinks. It would have been okay.

But by some sort of miracle, they’re here, on a mountain path, and Liu Sang is alive and Wu Xie is alive, alive enough to be shouting at him, alive enough to ask, What do you mean? Liu Sang, what do you mean, you weren’t making it out? Liu Sang. Liu Sang.

Liu Sang’s never been good at reading lips, but he knows the shape of his name in Wu Xie’s mouth.

He remembers, then, why he has never fallen in love before.

It’s because it sounds like nothing.

It’s because it hurts.

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

The Rooster Sunrise motel and the roots of the narrative at the sunset of the story. A masterclass in Dean characterization

If I didn’t care / more than words can say / if I didn’t care / would I feel this way? / If this isn’t love / then why do I thrill? / And what makes my head go round...

This song plays as Travis comes in to check at the Rooster Sunrise motel - late in the night, later than the motel technically allows checks in. Metaphorically, this episode happens later than it should. Everything happens later than it should. Dean defeats the monster too late, after it gets Travis dead. They’re running a case when they should actually be preparing for the ultimate showdown against God. Dean tells Sam the truth about Jack too late. The very episode is “out of place” in the season - I mean, purposely so - because it gives us a “old style” hunting case in a season where hunting has lost its original purpose in the narrative but has taken a different purpose, as a sort of caricature of itself, as we’ve discussed about before.

This episode is a last. Okay, we haven’t seen the next few yet, but this episode has a specific function, and it is to be the last traditional hunting case of the show. It’s about the past, and that’s why it can happen now that hunting can no longer exist, not really. This season, we have never had real hunting cases. Fake ones, weird ones, ones that just felt off -- obviously because the story is no longer working the way it did before. Chuck’s “hamster wheel” has been fully revealed, and the narrative can no longer function in the old way.

And this episode happens as... a sunset, actually. Or better, both sunrise and sunset because it shows us, in parallel, the beginning and the end. The first case Dean and Sam work together, and what is essentially the last, at least the last with the traditional formula - a monster of the week, a motel, a gross place, a civilian saved, some choking, some yeeting across a motel room, you know how it goes.

(The elephant in the room is the sun/sunrise imagery across the show, especially relevant after the latest episode brought back the Gas’n’Sip logo, of course, but let’s talk about something else here.)

There are many echoes in the episode. 2x11 Playthings, a case in a hotel that involved children. 11x16 Safe House, where a case was run both in the past, by Bobby and Rufus, and in the present, and involves a monster’s nest and visions. Of course 1x18 Something Wicked, where they defeat a monster that targeted kids after an attempt when they were kids had failed to get rid of the monster for good, and where we also get flashbacks of them as kids. And many other little references and callbacks. A pretty major one (*rubs hands together*) is 10x19 The Werther Project, where something supernatural causes hallucinations that make the victim kill themselves; Dean also almost stabbed himself back then. (Cuthbert Sinclair again... bless.) Oh, well, the pilot itself, where Dean and Sam comment that they make a good team. And then Carver-era secret and lies, of course.

And 14x13 Lebanon. (Yes it gets its own paragraph...) Dean smashing the stone in the ring, making the monster disappear, parallels straight to Sam smashing the pearl, making John disappear. The other monster of the episode is John, of course, who drops the kids in some motel alone while he gets “out of reach” when Dean tries to contact him on the phone (callback to season 1, when they kept trying to call John on the phone and he never answered, not even when Dean was dying or they were in their old house in Lawrence and terrified). John only appears as an invisible figure driving the car, symbolically driving their lives (all this “killing God and getting free” is nothing but a mirror to getting free from John’s influence, right). Callback to 9x07 Bad Boys, where we also see a younger Dean and we also deal with the weight of the lifestyle John placed on him, in an episode that features a literal ghost of a parent. (Heck, we even had Dean stealing food - in 9x07 he was caught by a policeman and brought to the boys’ house, now Caitlin jokes about arresting him.)

As 1x18 Something Wicked, we are presented with how growing up among monsters and hunting cases impacted Dean as a kid. Interestingly, Sam tries to reassure Dean in both episodes, telling him that he was just a kid and he shouldn’t be too hard on himself. In 1x18 he had ruined John’s hunt and put Sam in danger (of course the implication is that John put them in danger by using them as bait and expecting a child - addditionally unaware of what was going on - to watch after a younger child), now that he didn’t tell anyone about the nest because it was too horrifying to share that with other kids (of course, he’d also been a kid and shouldn’t have had to investigate a child-killing monster, so the implication is again that John shouldn’t have left them alone and unable to reach him in case of danger. It’s so telling that the episode has Dean discovering the bodies of dead kids while Sam is playing with another kid - although, of course, the game also turns terrifying soon).

So it’s an episode that has it all: the ghost of John Winchester, the way Dean’s parentified role impacts negatively his relationship with Sam (the episode establishes a connection between Dean shielding Sam from the horror of the monster’s nest and Dean essentially shielding Sam from the horror of the latest Jack news, it’s always about Dean feeling the weight of a responsibility to Sam because he’s Sam’s caretaker, even if he ostensibily mentions Billie’s plan and stuff as the reason of his silence), and of course the theme of FEAR.

I’ve been screaming this from rooftops pretty much since I’ve been here on tumblr - fear is the interpretative key to Dean’s character. Since season 1. Since the beginning. (You’re scared. It’s okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too.) Many posts have been written about how anger is a secondary emotion, when the narrative ostensibly had Dean be “angry”. Dean has dealt with fear almost his entire life, and this episode basically works as an asterisk to the season. Hey, we’re having everyone comment on Dean’s anger! Including Dean himself! He says he doesn’t know why he has these outbursts! Well, we do know. Little reminder here now... he’s scared. And he’s scared because he cares, because he loves so much, and when you keep losing what you love you are scared, scared of losing more and more, stuck in a hamster wheel of losing and losing and losing.

In fact, if losing Jack will stop the hamster wheel, he’s fine with it, because as long as they’re stuck in the wheel they’ll lose Jack again anyway, they keep losing everything over and over, Jack and Cas and everyone. In this episode he mentions funerals of hunters, friends, how they couldn’t even attend all the funerals of people they were close to. There were so many. They’ve always been so surrounded by horror and fear and death. He just wants it to stop. (Of course the plan cannot work, just like the immersion therapy method didn’t work for Travis. Well, poor Travis’ idea of facing his fears to overcome his trauma worked very well on paper, just like Billie’s plan seems to be the best option on paper, but we still have a few episodes still to see...)

This episode is an exploration of the motives of Dean’s behavior, and it spells them out very clearly. John’s abuse and neglect, the forced parentified role he had to take towards Sam since a too-early age, the nightmarish horrors he had to see (while shielding Sam from, which reminds me of the infamous scene about Max’s childhood...), the neverending chain of losses with its baggage of fear.

Dean wants - needs - to defeat Chuck, just like Travis needed to face his fears and overcome his trauma. Because Chuck means hamster wheel. And the hamster wheel isn’t just a theoretical lack-of-free-will thing. It’s not just about a philosophical/theological concept. It’s about the very real cycle of horror and fear and loss that Dean has spent his entire life in. It’s about a pile of dead children, both a metaphor for his brutally ended childhood and a very concrete example of what has been haunting him for so long.

His apparently “okayness” with Billie’s plan is not out of a revenge thing or lack of forgiveness towards Jack (of course we can add millions of words about Dean’s relationship with Death). His okayness with killing Amara is... well, only partly about punishing her for, as he sees it, toying with him. His anger is because he feels so much. If I didn’t care / more than words can say / if I didn’t care / would I feel this way?

[officialgomezaddams]

Morality

I honestly dk what this is but its set in AOTC kinda want to turn this into a little series $wag also shout out to my fellow nihilists this is for you bb

Palpatine had always kept watchful over her but never loomed. It would have been too obvious. When he met Anakin, it was like a breath of fresh air, a realization that this little boy was destined to restore the balance in the force and his daughter, Y/n, would be the one to defeat him. He had begun the idea of his daughter once he joined the Darkside, already knowing that the possibility to be overthrown was something he couldn’t let happen. The dark energy, the power, was simply too much to let go of. The moment he saw the nine-year-old boy, the lord was happy to know that the power would stay on the dark side. 

Dooku trained Y/n as a padawan, and when he left the order, he took Y/n with him, kidnapping her into the night. When she asked why they were leaving the temple as he dragged her into a ship, he simply replied, “Sometimes when politicians can’t do their job, we must do something ourselves.” Over the years together, he would open up more, telling Y/n about the death of Qui-Gon and every step that drove him to leave. 

“The Jedi rely on selflessness. To strip one’s ability to have connection and emotion. They lose themselves in conformity. We need to take control of the life we’re given. Emotion, passion, drive. Those are how we will be victorious. Corrupt politicians pull the Jedi around like kites on strings. You can not try and save a house that its lousy foundation has torn down. Tear it down and build a new one.” 

It was her job to ensure just that, a new foundation set within the heart of the Darkside. Relentless training to mentally and physically defeat the chosen one. Palpatine would often tell her that her destiny was a part of the Sith Two, that the strongest one of the two would survive, and it was to be her. Darth Sidious found comfort that his creation would take over the Darkside once she had killed him and the Count. The most decisive Jedi ruling on the side of the night. 

She didn’t quite understand it, but to stay on the Darkside made the most sense to her. It wasn’t about power. It was the lifestyle. Why be selfless if there was no personal gain? Why spend a life living for something else? Shouldn’t one live their life for themselves? Everyone, she determined, had to want something. As long as she did what she wanted, it was enough. It had to be. Because without drive and her idea of what was truly right and wrong, how would she get anything done? 

She rationed that it all didn’t matter. She would never know who was right because, in her mind, the concept of being right varied too much. The Jedi thought they were right, the sith thought they were right, the politicians who voted against their people’s needs thought they were right. She had to suffer through Palpatine’s long lectures about how awful the senate was and now terrible the Jedi Order is. But who was to say he was right? That was only his opinion. Who was to say the Jedi were right because a frog that was almost nine hundred years old said so? 

“I’m just…” Anakin went on, pulling a piece of grass out of the ground. “I mean, I don’t know. Padmè is beautiful and wonderful. She’s everything that could make someone perfect: marriage, it’s so permanent. I know I’m supposed to be excited, which I am, of course. But what if we were not supposed to be together.” 

His speech made her frown. “Sometimes, it’s better just to dive in and see where you land.” She offered. The dreams with Anakin were a peaceful escape to a Jedi’s life. Neither knew why their dreams brought them together or what they even meant. Neither of them bothered, living the same training life on opposite sides. A sweet dream was the perfect reward. “And who are you going to be with then, me?” She teased back. 

The setting of the dreams was in the meadows of Naboo. The pastel-colored flowers stood dim in the moonlight from the starry night above. Anakin laid with his head in her lap as they talked about their personal lives, never going in too deep about what their destinies were. Anakin no longer had the pressure of being the chosen one, and Y/n never had to admit she would kill the chosen one. 

“I wish,” Anakin admitted, now looking up at her. “I want so bad to meet you Y/n, not just in my dreams but in real life. If I could have you by my side, all of this would be less confusing. I’ve fallen in love with you, a woman in my dreams. Why can’t you be in my reality?”

“Don’t say that,” She whispered. Whenever Anakin talked about his little girl-thing, Y/n wasn’t even one hundred percent sure what their relationship was, and she always felt a slight nic in her heart. Y/n knew that she was in love with Anakin, but to hear about another woman making him the happiest he’s been in the majority of the years that she knew him, that it wasn’t her, the one sneaking in kisses with him in the shadows. It brought out an ugly feeling of jealousy and possessiveness to Y/n that she didn’t know she had. 

“I promise, one day, I’ll be with you in all the ways you want.” She spoke with a smile. She would often daydream about what life would be like to meet him real-time. They would run up to each other and crush each other in a hug. She imagined it all.

“Tell me about it,” Anakin edged on, closing his eyes as if it was going to play out in his head.

“Well, I want to go somewhere like D’Qar, somewhere quiet where I won’t have to worry about neighbors or anyone I don’t want finding me. Or us, because you’re coming with me no matter what your soon-to-be wife says,” You teased, making him laugh. “Maybe- Sometimes in my dreams, there’s no Padmè, it’s just us, and every so often there are kids, but it’s just us. Tucked away where we can be together, and nothing can bother us or stop us from being together.”

The silence that sat in between them began to scare Y/n, “Is that a future you would want with me?”

His eyes met hers, a peaceful moment in the chaos of their lives. He reached up to tuck a strand of hair that fell in front of her face, behind her ear. “If I were able to, I would.”

“And why can’t you? Why can’t you have the things you want, Anakin? Is it wrong to be happy?” 

Waking up from the dreams was always the most challenging part, the reality of it not being a reality. Y/n woke up already in a bad mood, mentally kicking herself for pushing too far in. Of course, he wouldn’t want to. He’s getting married to someone else. You’re too late. It had always been Y/n’s plan to end up with Anakin in some way or another. From the first dream to now, she decided to leave the Sith once she had killed the chosen one. Somedays, she would pace around, impatiently waiting for whoever held the title to cross her path so she could just finish the job and take the next ship to wherever Anakin was. 

She tore the necklace he had given her off her neck, clutching the carven japor snippet in her hand with a grip so hard she could have cracked it if it wasn’t made out of stone. She was squeezing her eyes shut, trying not to cry. Anakin had given Y/n the good luck charm when they were at the age of thirteen. Y/n was upset that once everything was over that he may not want to be with her, the reputation of her choices would drive him away. 

“Well, you can’t be that bad,” He commented, pulling out the carved stone from his pocket and shyly handing it to her. “I made this for you,” Anakin explained as she put it around her neck, “So that when good things happen, you can think of me. It’ll be my way of keeping you safe, and in return, one day, you will come to me safely.”

She opened her eyes and stared at the carvings, remembering how Anakin said he made it just for her, so she better not lose it. Y/n wanted to break it, throw it away, and never see Anakin again. She wanted more than just the dreams. She wanted the sunsets and the early morning and the rainy days - all of it. Maybe they were wrong, they weren’t supposed to meet, and it was just a nice dream. 

She couldn’t do that. She at least owes him a simple greeting, and then she can get rid of him. Putting the necklace back on and wiping her face to make sure she wasn’t crying, Y/n walked out of the room, ready for whatever the sith wanted her to do. 

“Just be patient,” Her master told her as they waited outside the still open ship. Geonosis was overrun with battle, the sith fighting tooth and bone to claim the planet as its capital, the major droid foundries, and its Mandalorians. Nothing could be more perfect for the sith. The two force signatures caught Y/n’s attention. Looking up at Dooku, she told him, “Well, let’s make it quick then.” 

“The chosen one will be here,” he whispered back. “I’ll leave that one to you.”

“You’re gonna pay for all the Jedi you killed, Dooku,” A familiar voice said as you both turned around in unison. “Y/N?” A pit dropped in her stomach. It was him, Anakin. Anakin’s blue saber was pointed at the ground, more focused on her than the older man. 

The necklace he gave her burned her through her robes. Anakin was finally there in front of her. This Anakin was different from her dreams. He stood with more pride and confidence. He was also the chosen one. “I-I didn’t expect to meet you like this,” She told him, knowing full well once on the ship, she would be interrogated about her knowledge of the boy. 

“Why are you with him?” The venom in his voice almost made her feel guilty about being who she was. “Are you-? Don’t tell me Y/n-” He couldn’t find the words to express his confusion and disappointment, “You’re a Sith. How can you be with them? You lied to me! Can’t you see what they’re doing to you? Can’t you see what they’ve done!”

“The Jedi know no facts,” She spoke, looking over at the Count, waiting for his head nod and sign of approval to ignite her orange saber. The whole weapon was made for destruction, a perfect saber to kill the chosen one. Its orange glow was representing strength. The curved hilt that matched hers of her masters was perfect for duels and close fights. “Only assumptions.”

It hurt her to have him looking at her in disgust. As if she was suddenly less than him because of her beliefs. “Anakin, you need to calm down,” She warned him as he charged towards her, only for Dooku to step in front of her, raising his hand to send bolds of electricity into the boy’s body and fling him into a rock wall. “Don’t keep me waiting,” Her master spoke before walking up the platform of the ship. 

Y/n only had seconds to understand that not only her master had abandoned her, Anakin was also lying limp in a pile of rocks, and the other Jedi was making his way towards her. She pointed her saber straight ahead at him, taking careful steps around him, trying to think about how this all would end. Was this it? When is supposed to kill the chosen one who happened to be the boy Y/n had fallen in love with over the past ten years? She knew that once she killed Anakin, she would have to kill the two sith above her, starting the two over with her as a master. 

“I heard the little green guy talks highly of you, Kenobi. What a pity it will be when I kill his two strongest men.”

Obi-wan shook his head, “You’re not Dooku’s apprentice. You’re just an assassin to him. Y/n why would he elect a child to be his successor?” He spoke as if he could read her mind, his blue eyes pleading with her. 

“You don’t know anything!” Y/n yelled, making the first strike. His saber skills were advanced, but quickly she was able to disarm him and left two marks on him, one on his arm and one on his thigh. She walked up to him, the two staring at each other. Was she about to kill this man? She had never killed a human before. Taking down droids and other creatures were casual to her. Humans? This man was edging her on with his eyes, both understanding that she wasn’t able to drive her saber into his neck. She couldn’t just kill a man who had done nothing to her. That would be wrong, right? But if it was so bad, why was she encouraged to do it? 

Before she could thoroughly choose, Anakin came at full force again. This time his master had tossed him his saber, making the fight two against one. “Why won’t you join our site, the right side?” Anakin asked, swiftly dodging her but failing to make any advancements to disarming her. 

“I don’t believe in any right sides.” She told him, knocking the green lightsaber out of his hand, evening out the fight. “I believe in one thing. Power of human will.” 

She walked into the ship quietly, ignoring the little green Jedi behind her. She didn’t care about the older man, Yoda or Count Dooku. She walked past the sith and made her way right to the pilot’s seat before sitting down. 

Dooku followed her, giving her space as she sat down. Crossing his arms like a disappointed parent, he asked, “Well?”

“I cut his arm off,” Y/n spoke, taking out the necklace and looking at the charm in her hand. She left right after, watching him lay unconscious against his master, missing apart of his right arm. She had hurt him, and for a moment, when she was looking at the injured pair, the padawan’s master had the same look on his face as before. An eyebrow raised as if to say, Do it, kill us. I doubt you’ll do it. 

“I’m disappointed in you.” He said. Y/n could have done it. She would have just pictured them as droids and slice the two in half. It would have been quick and painless. She could have plaid her life out, kill the chosen one, rule the sith, and live her life. Why didn’t you? She kept thinking as she admired the gift. 

Looking at the charm, the future she talked about seemed too far away, especially now. The end with the boy she loved, Anakin, who also was the boy she was supposed to kill. But for right now, she thought to herself. She wouldn’t kill him, at least not yet, until she knew for sure that her fantasies with Anakin were just wild dreams. It was her own life. Why couldn’t she have the things she wanted? 

[tintentrinkerin]

adelphopoiesis

Author: tintentrinkerin

Title: adelphopoiesis

Requested by: @schaefchenherde

Header by: @wincestismyheart​

Divider by: @firefly-graphics​

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Demon!Dean x Sam

Warnings: Blood and Gore, Sam Drinks Dean’s Demon Blood, Anal Sex, Not Canon Compliant

Content: Chasing your baby brother around the bunker with a hammer is fun, right? But what if you tickle his thing for blood?

Read here or on AO3

Dean’s most effective weapon is not the hammer he destroyed the door with. The hammer that’s stuck in the wall now beside Sam’s head. It’s not his physical strength, radiating like utter heat from his body, showing in the tension of his neck, the firm grimace of his mouth, his pretty mouth. It’s not the First Blade. A blade powerful enough to kill anything and anyone, but Dean himself. 

Sam’s only weapon is a lousy knife. A demon knife, that will barely leave a scratch on a Knight of Hell. 

“It’s all you”, Dean says, leaning in the knife, leaning into Sam’s half hearted attack. 

The way Dean looks at his brother, it’s tearing Sam apart in so many ways. Ways he thought he’d buried under guilt and hunts and lore and his shame. Sam gives in and takes the knife away, he will regret it so bitterly, he knows. Of course he knows. He can’t even lay a single finger on Dean. The demon in front of him wears the face of his brother but there is nothing left of his soft side for Sam. His voice, how he calls Sam, how he says Sammy, the hair, the determined look, the tongue against his teeth. Like he’s a predator and Sam’s the prey. 

Dean’s eyes turn black.

It’s a whooshing sound and it darts Sam’s ears the moment he thought he’d surrender and then, the First Blade, fast as an arrow lands in Dean’s hand. There is not a blink for Sam to react before Dean looks at him with a triumphant smirk. The knife glides through Dean’s smooth skin of his throat like it’s warm butter. Blood spills. 

Blood

Spills

Blood is Dean's most effective weapon.

Its smell is so familiar, so luring. So intimate and so…powerful. Sam turns and runs. He needs to go. He needs to get away. 

“Oh Sammy, baby brother, don’t run away!”, Dean mocks. 

Shit, he’s right behind Sam and Sam’s judgement clouds already. He isn’t even fast. It feels like running through molasses. The air feels thick and strong, pressing Sam down, and the smell of iron and lust and Dean, oh my God, it’s Dean’s blood! - He needs to get away! Sam manages to worm through the destroyed door to the electrical room, but he catches several splinters. Some even bite his face and he gets stuck with the cast of his elbow. Spraining the right elbow, why, Sam, why did that happen? Everything’s against him. 

Memories of Ruby appear in his head. Of the smell, the taste, her body, the sex. The grunting and the mind blowing orgasm, the banging against walls everywhere they went. The power, the trip. His increasing power, a stimulant better than any human known drug. It resonates all within him with the odor of Dean’s musk and his blood. He can smell its potential, its strong taste. Sam even imagines how it would make him feel. Running away never felt so hard like right now. He remembers the withdrawal and the pain behind his eyes blinds him as he trips in the hallway and tumbles against a wall. Stinging pain in his arm, in his head and his legs feel heavy. It’s like he has Dean’s breath in his neck all this time. Even though he can’t hear him come close at all. It sounds like Dean is far away, in another world. 

“Come on, Sammy, I know you want a sip of it. Makes you all giddy, doesn't it? I can smell you. All of you.”

Sam yells something, but he can’t even make out what he says. 

“Keep runnin’ if you must, but you know I gotta find you sooner or later. It’s my home, too!”

The alarm is blaring again and Sam has no idea how far he can run. There won’t be any walls that might hold Dean back. He’s regaining strength, the human blood wears off. Even that Sam can smell. How much stronger Dean gets with every minute. 

“I taste delicious, Sammy. Just fuckin’ delicious.”

Oh, yes, Sam bets he does, that’s exactly why he needs to keep running. The smell gets even more intense now and Sam wonders how much Dean can cut himself up with the First Blade. He should’ve given the damn thing to Crowley when he had the chance to do so. 

“Stay away”, he croaks. 

There’s another hallway, one leading deep into the intestines of the Forbidden Bunker, how Dean and him called it jokingly, when they discovered it. An area full of locked doors made of the weirdest materials. Only one chance is left for Sam, when he finds that one door he unlocked in these months without Dean. He had learned a lot about witchcraft since Dean left this note on his bed, when he left Sam for Crowley and a life as a demon. When the only way to save himself from Dean was to hide himself in a panic room again, hallucinate again, he would have to do it. He rather sees Lucifer again, Mary, Bobby, all the victims they couldn’t save than to fall for Dean’s lure. Drink his own brother’s blood. This was perverted, disgusting, twisted. Even for them. The monster hunters, the monster fuckers, the monsters themselves. 

“The longer you run, the harder I bleed, brother!”

Sam tries every door on the way, but none opens. Sam’s eyes sting from the smell. What the hell is Dean doing? Covering the walls in blood? That would be insane. Even Dean would faint at one point. It must be impossible to drain a body so much before it dies. Dean isn’t possessing a body, he still has his own, whatever that means for him and his physis then. Sam trips again, he falls, on his right arm of course. He tears up from the pain that fills his chest, his arm, his shoulder. He can’t survive that long if doesn’t find a hide-out. 

It seems to be near, because Sam still can read the signs on the doors and when he finds room 616, he pushes the door open with a long and agonizing cry and slams it shut. It’s the door he unlocked already, a room, bleak as an empty tomb. Cold and pitchblack, there’s no electrical light, just candles, but Sam won’t be able to find them. He can just hide in here, pressed against a wall, praying to Castiel, to Hannah. He even cries for Crowley inside, someone needs to help him. 

Footsteps.

The smell of blood. The First Blade scraping on the tiles, Sam knows it’s that. 

“Gotcha! I really thought you’d be a bit cleverer than that. Where’s the fun when you cage yourself like a mouse?”

The door bursts open, way too easily. None of the sigils and runes seem to be an obstacle for Dean. And when light shines in the room and Sam can see not only Dean’s silhouette but also his face, he knows. Dean is covered in his own blood. His face, his slit throat, still pumping blood in long and rhythmic spurts from the wound. His arms are drenched in blood and now, with a biting smile, Dean looks at Sam and the Blade carves an S in Dean’s arm. 

“Come here, Sammy. Come to your big bro and lemme get you something real good

The stench is so intense now that Sam first vomits in violent jerks and then faints. The last thing he sees before the world turns completely black is Dean’s triumphant, sweet smile and his eyes. His normal green eyes. 

When Sam awakes again, he is tied up. Bound to a chair. They’re in the dungeon again, how did Sam come here? His head aches like it’s been run over by a stampede of bulls and his mouth tastes like vomit and blood. He tenses immediately as he’s present enough to realize his situation. Dean has tied him up here, and now he’s sitting on the desk in one corner, right beside the blood donor box that Sam got from the hospital. His legs swing and he hums a strange melody. 

“Oh, look who’s up.”

Dean jumps on his feet. Sam can see the First Blade, the damn Blade, resting on the table. Then Dean takes the syringes of human blood and starts spilling them. 

“You won’t need them anymore, Sammy. I think I won our little chase.”

“Dean, don’t do that… please. I can still…”

Dean hisses. His eyes turn black.

“You can still what, brother dearest? I already told you. I am what I am now, I am free. I’m finally free. Of humanity. I’m strong now. Efficient. Deadly.”

Sam winces when he moves in the ties. The ropes cut in his flesh and Dean removed the sling on his arm. His elbow hurts so much, it’s taking his words away. 

“You were deadly before already. The Mark made you powerful.” 

“But guess what, I’m even better now. Dean Winchester 2.0 - I’m all in for my upgrade. You see it as a bad thing, but what I see is … potential. Chances. Oh Sammy, I can conquer the world. Hell. Heaven. You really want the boring Dean back, huh?”

Sam shakes his head but that makes him feel dizzy, he stops.

“I want my brother back. The brother I loved.”

Dean’s black eyes target Sam like he’s prey again and he hates being looked at like this. It makes him feel less human, less Dean’s brother.

“I am your brother. Nothing ever changed that. But I told you to stay away from me, I told you not to look for me. But you did. You plotted against me, with Crowley, with Cas. You tied me up in this chair, you tortured me with human blood. Against my will. For someone who’s all over the place with autonomy and respecting boundaries you violated mine just perfectly.”

Sam squirms. The problem is that Dean is right. But Sam did it for the greater cause, didn’t he? Dean becoming human again was the best for everyone!

“You make me sound like the bad guy here, that’s not fair”, Sam mutters.

Dean laughs and it’s a deep, rough laugh that makes Sam’s skin crawl. This is so much Dean, even darker than usual. And it shakes Sam to the core. 

“Good, bad… Who cares. Human categories, bullshit. Nothing’s fair, Sam.”

“I need something to drink”, Sam says faintly now. 

He won’t make Dean untie him, that’s for sure, but maybe Cas will come to the rescue soon, he can maybe delay things. Also he needs to get rid of the taste of old blood in his mouth. Dean doesn’t reek of his blood that bad anymore, Sam is very much aware of the pink line across Dean’s throat. A scar. The blade will cause scars. Or at least the weapon delays even Dean’s healing. 

Dean smiles. 

“Sure. But why waste water on you when I kill you anyway?”

Sam’s heart sinks.

“Will you?”

Dean shrugs as if he doesn’t give a shit at all.

“Thinking about it. But you’re my brother, as you keep on reminding me. Maybe I should give you a chance to redeem yourself in my eyes and let you live?”

“And how would you do that?”, Sam asks, winding in his ties. 

Dean goes away. Doesn’t say another word. Sam is stunned and damn, holy shit, he’s afraid. Dean will kill him. But what is it with the possibility of letting him live?

The smell of iron. Like a perfume, soft and silky. No. No no no.

“Dean? Dean!”, Sam cries and fights the restraints harder.

He did it again. He slit his fucking throat, Sam knows it. And this time, he won’t be able to run, he won’t be able to fight back. He’s tied up, he’s in pain, he’s weak. It’s not like with the other hunters who wanted to force him to drink demon blood. He could fight them off, but now?

Emaciated. Sick. Depressed. A broken arm. Hungry. Tied up. The addiction is pulsating through his veins, giving him the chills. It’s hot and cold at the same time. Like crackling in the air, the heavy scent of blood and Dean, he can only say no.

Dean won’t take a no, why should he? He’s a Knight of Hell. Sam is human. His brother is back, his throat cut deep enough to see the structures of muscles, veins, nerves, his trachea, the pulsing blood. Sam vomits all over his shirt, but there’s not much left except bitter, yellow gall. 

“You’re sick, huh?”, Dean coos in a voice like he did when Sam was younger. It’s meant for comfort but now it just feels like mockery and Sam wonders how he deserves to see his brother slit his throat, twice, just to seduce Sam to drink it. It's so fucked up. It’s low, even for lean, mean Dean. Human Dean would’ve never provoked Sam’s demon blood addiction. 

Sam nuzzles against the hand that’s stroking his face, his eyes squeezed shut. His lips tremble. 

“Let me make you feel better, don’t pull away, Sammy…”

Sam cries out and some ugly big tears fall down his face. Is it so easy to break? He’s gone through so much pain already, through torture, rape, withdrawal. He was betrayed by everyone he loved, especially Dean. Dean’s hand is warm, but his skin feels like marble when Sam leans in, rubs his face in the palm of Dean’s hand. Is this still his brother? Is there any humanity left? 

But what would that change? They’re here now. In a bunker soaked with demon blood, Sam is tied up, Dean reigns. 

“Hush, hush”, Dean purrs, both of his hands holding Sam’s bobbing head. “It’s gonna be alright… Sammy, just give in. There will be no more pain, just us. You and me, against the world. Like it used to be.”

Sam opens his eyes but all he sees is blurry and red, it stinks of iron and vomit and Dean’s black eyes…

“I wanna see your normal eyes”, is all Sam can say right now.

A smirk.

“Anything for you, Sammy.”

And Dean’s eyes flash back to green and Sam can have the illusion of his brother just for a moment longer. Thick dark blood is pulsing out of Dean’s cut on his throat. 

“It looks disgusting, Dee.”

Dean only laughs.

“It’s not supposed to be beautiful.”

Dean cups his hand before the dripping wound, collects a tiny lake of blood in his hand and then, gently presses his blood covered hand against Sam’s lips. 

The world turns upside down. Sam feels the spinning, the spinning, the spinning!

The taste makes him want to barf, violently, but the old creature, the blood sucking monster was waiting patiently beneath the surface. Patient but greedy. Now it’s unleashed it bursts out and the first drops, he swallows. His lips limp and curled in utter disgust, but now, oh now, there’s a jolt running through his body, he sits straight up, first ties grinding, the ropes won’t last. The shackles won’t last. 

“Come on, sweet baby boy, you want more…” Dean sings, eyes black as the night. 

And slowly, very slowly and enjoying, Sam’s lips brush Dean’s hand, collect the blood, a tongue, pink, hot sneaks out, licks the offered hand. 

The ropes break. The pain in Sam’s arm fades. It’s a movement even Dean didn’t see coming when Sam bursts out of all restraints he put on him and grips Dean’s hand tight, as tight as possible and sucks three of Dean’s fingers dry. 

The Knight of Hell rejoices, pulls Sam close, closer than they’ve been for a very long time.

“That’s it, Sammy, yes, that’s it, let me take care of you… such a greedy boy…” 

Dean’s voice is distant to Sam, distorted and hollow, he remembers their youth, the motel rooms, the flickering lights, the old tv, how Dean smelled of whiskey and beer. John’s passed out in an armchair, stained in blood, piss and vomit. 

He remembers Dean’s care. The kisses at night, the stealthy handjobs in the shower, how Dean ‘taught’ him how people do it. 

Make love. 

Sam was twelve. Dean was sixteen. And he was a grower. 

A slut. 

All of this drenched in velvety red tint.

The ritual.

“Let me take care of you, Sammy…”

“I love you, Dee.”

“Never tell anyone.”

And Sam never had told anyone (but Lucifer knew - he knew everything) and deep down, buried in his mind, these feelings were in peaceful slumber, violently dragged across the floor now, kicking and crying, 

A W A K E

Sam is awake. 

He remembers the awkward, painful, dry fuck in the back of the Impala after they killed the Wendigo, so long ago, and how they never ever said a word. 

Spit is shitty lube.

So is blood.

It roars. The monster roars in Sam’s chest. It’s in agony, it’s in joy, it’s free! 

And Sam is just a puppet, always been nothing more than a puppet. He watches himself suck Dean’s fingers, then sticking his own fingers in the wound, stir it, stir Dean’s insides. The gurgling, the retching. Dean’s satisfied moans, his hands all over Sam’s now healed body. 

“Yes, Sammy, let it all out, come on… Let it all out.”

Sam only hisses. This blood, Dean’s blood, the blood of a demon, of a Knight. It’s so much more potent than Ruby’s or any other demon’s he’s ever drank and tasted. Dean is delicious. Demon tend to taste like rotting meat, titan arum aroma.

But Dean tastes of all the good things. Dahlia, petrichor, amber. His musk makes Sam’s blood boil and his pants bulge. 

“Sammy.”

“Dean”, is the first thing New Sam says. 

What Monster Sam says. His voice sounds low, rough, barely in control. His body is shaking, too much force is withhold now. 

“Brother.”

The wound on Dean’s throat is closing up again already, the healing ability is really incredible. Sam will bite it open very, very soon, but first… 

Dean doesn’t protest, he doesn’t fight back at all when Sam slams him down to the ground like he weighs nothing. There’s the crunchy sound of maybe, bones breaking, or just getting sprained, but even that, Dean will heal in no time. Dean lies on his stomach, attempts to get up. 

“Sammy-”

“Sammy is not here right now.”

There’s no surprise, no scare in Dean’s voice. Sam stomps his bare foot in Dean’s back and Dean stays, doesn’t even breathe. The adrenaline rush in Sam’s ears makes him deaf for most other things and seeing demon Dean down on his stomach, defeated so easily, it’s almost an insult. Sam crouches down, one foot still on Dean’s back, pressing him down. 

“You surrender?”, Sam asks, eyebrows raise.

“I didn’t mean to fight you at all.”

Dean chuckles, his voice raspy

Sam drags Dean on all fours, rips apart his shirt (the pretty red shirt, ruined with blood anyway) and Jeans and when he holds Dean’s hips, bends over and bites Dean’s neck, Dean hisses “Come on, Sammy, that’s it.”

That’s it.

Sam tears apart skin, Dean’s blood gushes in Sam’s mouth, warm and silky, smooth and delicious. 

“Is that what you wanted?”, Sam says in a breathless moment, before he starts sucking the wound dry, the bleeding will stop soon, way too soon for Sam to be satisfied. 

Dean growls deeply, pushes against Sam. Pleading. Sam pushes two fingers inside Dean, but feels very quickly, Dean doesn’t need it. He doesn’t want it. He needs Sam. He rips off his jeans, down to his knees and when that’s not giving him enough space, he just tears it to shreds completely. Dean’s ass is perfect. Round, juicy, firm. When he gives it a slap - a hard one - he enjoys the noise Dean makes. And then he thrusts completely inside, without hesitation. No foreplay. No gentle feeling ahead and preparing Dean’s wonderfully tight and delicious ass. He feels amazing, hot, tight, smooth. Dean hands grip Sam’s wrists tight while he fucks into him, raw, without anything to soothe the pain, make it easier, make Dean nice, slick and wet. But he doesn’t complain at all. 

“That’s it”, Dean chants, in his low, low “Let’s finish this game” voice. That’s it, over and over. 

This is no sex Sam would ever have if he was in his right mind. Covered in his own vomit, Dean’s blood, on the cold floor. Not that he has fucked any guy after he fled off to Stanford anyway. Dean is all he knows. He only knows what Dean taught him about fucking ass. 

Dean starts getting slippery with his own blood, Sam’s blood infused spit and finally, cum. Sam loses the feeling of time and space, all he can do is fuck Dean until one of them passes out, and if Dean passed out, Sam would continue anyway. 

The adrenaline rush plummets too early for Sam’s taste, the haze clears up and he’s getting aware of his ripped off clothes, the shreds of Dean’s. The fluids, the smell, the feeling. Crust everywhere. Dean is still on his knees, head sunken on the floor, his arms stretched out, breathing heavily. There’s no sign that he’s in pain. But Dean’s a demon, right? He will be fine. 

Sam drags him up, and the cocky smile, the perfect hair, it’s all gone. Dean looks like he’s had the same otherworldly experience. It’s a sight that makes Sam chuckle. 

“What are you laughing at?”, Dean asks, coming on his feet, gently swaying, but finally his wounds are closing up. 

“You threatened to rip my throat out. With your teeth.”

“Not there yet, Sammy. Not yet.”

The situation is unreal, Sam feels unreal. He knows he will never be the same. Something’s broken inside him, crumbled - yet ready to expand again, into unknown territory. 

He doesn’t remember the coercion, Dean’s betrayal - or was it Dean’s way of deliberating Sam?

Sam, leaning on the table, watches Dean come close and he leans in, a hand in Sam’s hair, gently pulling. Their kiss isn’t gentle, nothing will be gentle for a while. Teeth clash, the table scrapes along the floor and the throbbing of Dean’s pulse makes Sam rise up again. Dean bites Sam’s neck, sharp pain - and Dean drinks. The feeling is satisfying and roughening Sam up at the same time. He pulls his Knight close, closer, grabs him and bends him over the table, both still bleeding, Dean high from Sam’s blood. 

“For a Knight of Hell, you’re very pliant”, Sam growls in Dean’s ear.

Dean chuckles.

“I just bend the knee to my King.”

Sam frowns. 

“What do you mean?”

Dean hikes up and drags Sam to the mirror in the Dungeon.

“Take a look”, Dean hums, rich and satisfied in tone, “acknowledge who you are.”

Breathe in. Breathe out. First, Sam’s mossy eyes just look glassy, clear, beaming with desire for Dean. 

Then he draws in his breath with a sharp hiss. 

“You got your daddy’s eyes, Sammy.”

Sam’s eyes turned yellow.