#angsty as hell and sad are the vibes

[kennyyomega]

dying to write some post b&g hangmatt hurtcomfort

[aelswiths]

Based on this post.

For @volvaaslaug

[gotstabbedbyapen]

I have very complicated feelings for the Vengeance Saga (after the first listen)

Disclaimer: I will only criticize Epic the Vengeance Saga as a work on its own, not for its inaccuracy or deviation from mythology and The Odyssey. There are more knowledgable people who can point out and analyze the changes in Epic the Musical, but that is not what I'll be tackling here.

To put it bluntly, I'm not being angsty about it as I should. The whole saga just... didn't feel right with me.

Now, first off all, I'm a big fan of Epic and had been following it since the Cyclops saga (first version). I've been in love with many songs and hyperfixed it for months on end. But when the Vengeance saga came along, I didn't feel that same bubbling love rise in me.

Even as a fan, this isn't my first time having peeves with Epic. I didn't jam with the re-release sagas for a while, I'm underwhelmed with the Circe VS Odysseus fight and other issues, very unpopular opinion but "Monster" wasn't too impactful to me, and also the God Games (especially Zeus' attack).

The Vengeance Saga though? Well, they say we gotta do the Bun-Meat-Bun (or whatever the hell its name really is) technique when giving criticism, so I'll start with the good parts.

I love that Odysseus looked so done with Calypso in "Not Sorry For Loving You". They're basically this meme:

Like sorry you're a sad but you're still an abuser 😒

Then Odysseus starts singing the reprise for "Full Speed Ahead" but there's no one to back him up. That one hits me hard. To whoever on Tumblr said that after the Thunder Saga we will never hear the crew's back-up again and Odysseus' singing will be answered with silence, Apollo really blessed you with the red ball.

Hermes and the Winions' part was really cool too! I really like them being mischievous helper! The warning about the wind bag and the changing scene of Odysseus fighting off sea monsters while Hermes just vibing with the beats is 👌👌👌

But after that the hype started to sizzle out for me. You might want to skip this part if you're not comfortable with harsh criticism because I WON'T hold back.

It's really backward but I like the Odysseus VS Charybdis draft more than the final production. Charybdis' roars and music are somehow less intimidating, which is a shame because I thought this would be one of the biggest struggles Odysseus will face. Even with awesome illustrative animatics, the scene wasn't as thrilling as I've expected.

The other songs got massive improvement from its draft version (on top of my mind I can think of "Thunder Bringer", "There Are Other Ways", "Little Wolf"), but I don't get why "Charybdis" didn't get up-graded as much like them. It's like a cake that was throughly baked but half decorated and it just didn't taste as good as I've hoped.

Then we have the Odysseus VS Poseidon part in "Get In The Water" and "Six Hundred Strikes". The first thought I had for GITW is this song sounds like all the draft snippets were mashed together without a smooth transition/connection between them. Jorge and Steven's performance is great, but there's not enough tension for me to dread for Odysseus. When Poseidon first met Odysseus in "Ruthlessness", the whole opening was terrifyingly good! And we didn't even have any illustration animatic back then! (that's not to say the GITW animatics were bad, they just can't salvage much when the song itself was already weak)

I wasn't impressed with Poseidon's Shatter The Ocean move either. It's supposed to be the Strongest AttackTM but it's less scary than when he and the Laestrygonians destroyed Odysseus' eleven ships with probably 1% of their power. It didn't even help when Poseidon looked like he's having a seizure with lights pouring out of his eyes and mouth during the transformation.

Odysseus being literally on the brink of death with the souls of his loved ones pulling him into the abyss is a gem in the rough, but because we've seen Odysseus almost drowning before in the end of the Thunder Saga, it's not as shocking as it should be. Furthermore, Poseidon could have instant-killed Odysseus right then and there but didn't really annoyed me. But I guess he just wanted Odysseus to slowly suffer while dying.

Right when I thought the progress will get better, it... gets down. I can go with Odysseus using wind to escape the water, but him wearing it like a jetpack is so comical it ruined the drastic of the situation. And I'm officially let down when Odysseus FUCKING ATTACKED Poseidon in "Six Hundred Strike".

What? Just... why with that choice?

Look, I'm not gonna fault Epic for making creative liberties from the source material (as said in the disclaimer), but I will criticize if that change contradict itself in the transformative work. And this is one of them.

Poseidon and the gods have been proven time and time again in the musical just how powerful they are. Their ominous and grandiose entrances, them striking fear and inferiority in our hearts just by singing. Even Circe, a low-level goddess, poses a constant threat to the crew and Odysseus had to get help from Hermes just to get a chance to corner her (and Hermes even joked that he can still die!)

Poseidon easily destroyed almost all of Odysseus' fleet. Odysseus was very avoidant of him, opting to go to the literal Underworld to find instruction on how to dodge him and sailing through Scylla's lair + willing to sacrifice six men for safe passage. And when Poseidon said he can drown all of Ithaca, it's not just bluffing, he would and could have done that. Yeah, the King of the Sea is THAT BIG of a treat.

So no, Odysseus isn't cool to attack Poseidon, he's being stupid. I'm not even cheering for him the whole him he fight, just groaning at how ridiculous the whole thing is. If Epic is more believable and sticks to WHAT IT HAD ESTABLISHED BEFORE, having a sudden burst of anger and choosing ruthlessness won't save Odysseus from one swipe of Poseidon's trident. Odysseus stood no chance against a one of the most powerful deity, even if he's the protagonist and love his family.

Not only that, Poseidon didn't even defend himself and was wounded by a mere human! And he just sat there and took all the blows and insults from Odysseus??? And he actually begged Odysseus to stop and agree to quell the storm to let him get home??? I'm not buy that bullshit. I'm more upset that a literal Olympian god was nerfed down than Odysseus having a Gary Stu moment. Give me a break, that try-hard moment to be cool and edgy just show how badly written the scene is.

What's the fucking point of hyping up how dangerous the gods are if a human can take one down? Tell me this isn't some Wattpad-y Greek myth retelling fanfic where the teenage Y/N sass her way to defeat an entire pantheon. Epic really traded its opportunity to be better for some cheap and out-of-the-blue dramas in this saga, dare I say it's even worse than Zeus' OOC attack on Athena. I'm very disappointed with that decision.

On an end note, the saga did have one saving point with the "After everything you've done, how will you sleep at night?" - "Next to my wife" lines. Odysseus knew he could be the most horrendous man ever and Penelope would still choose his side, that just show how powerful their love and faith in each other are.

But not enough to excuse all the terrible cinematic choices.

[makeyoumine69]

Last Memory (Memory Reboot x5)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Some time after Patrick and Evelyn got married, Bateman thought he could live a normal life and finally forget about you, but he didn't realize that he was already starting to lose his grip on reality, slowly but surely.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: NSFW, Patrick's POV, angst, lots of sex, canon violence, blood, near-death experiences, dark themes, obsession, strong hallucinations, blowjobs, pussy eating, rough vaginal and anal sex, cum eating, tainted love vibes, drug use, depressing thoughts and intentions, blackout and fainting, rough choking, spanking, masturbation, cheating, dirty talk and slurs, pet names, degradation kink, self-harm and panic attacks implied, unstable Patrick is a warning himself, I might have forgotten something because this chapter is long af, so forgive me if I really did.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 15k

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐂: VØJ, Narvent—Last Memory; Timecop1983—Back to You

ᴀ/ɴ: Hello dear readers, I'm sorry to keep you waiting, but I just wanted to make this chapter as good as possible! After several rewrites, I think I am finally happy with the result. I'm very sad that Memory Reboot will end in the next update, but I hope you enjoy this angsty story! Also, there are some easter eggs in this chapter, so be on the lookout! And please be aware that there is a lot of trigger material in this chapter, so be careful! Thank you so much for sticking with me, you are all incredible!

𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]

An annoying, sonorous alarm sound woke me up and I had to hit it with my fist, almost breaking it, to make it fucking stop. Yawning, I sat on the bed and realized that I was still in Evelyn's apartment; these cream-colored sheets made me want to cry from how much I hate them, but instead of ripping them off, I stretched my arms. The tension in my body, coursing from my shoulders down to my groin, was an eloquent sign that I needed release. With a loud groan, I stood up and briefly grabbed my dick through my white underwear, which seemed to have been hard all night since that bitch Evelyn, who was my wife by the way, refused to have sex again. It was the second time in a row. Sliding my messy hair back, I walked into the living room and noticed that Evelyn had already left. I sighed with relief that I didn't have to see her irritated face since I was already on the verge of going nuts.    

In the kitchen, I took the bottle of Evian from the fridge and made a long gulp before checking the time on my Rolex, frowning right away as I remembered Evelyn yapping about me always keeping them on, even when I went to bed. 

God, why can't women have their mouths shut sometimes?

With a wry grin, I placed the bottle on the counter and paused for a moment to check my reflection in the gleaming metal door of the refrigerator. Today’s day in the office was going to be tough as hell since I had a fuck ton of stupid meetings I tried to convince Jean to cancel, but she reassured me that it would be too rude to ignore my business partners for too long. Hmmph…

A bit later, when I was almost finishing my work out, I suddenly realized that it had already been two months since me and Evelyn got married. And no, I couldn’t really believe this since all days were like one long day—a day that seemed to never end. Huffing, I did another push-up, the 50th in a row, feeling not tired at all. Small beads of sweat rolled down my tensed forehead and I could care less about brushing them off as I was so focused on the pleasant feeling of my muscles flexing each time my chest almost touched the mat. Normally, sports could easily help me to distract myself, to let off steam, to feel refreshed and clear-headed, but now I was more detached from reality than ever before. And it seemed that no amount of exercise could help. Also, my condition was aggravated by the lack of sex, proper sex. When my muscles finally began to hurt, I stopped doing everything and just lay on the mat, panting and looking at the ceiling above. Then, I slowly looked down at my groin—still hard as rock–before my hand involuntarily grabbed it, eliciting a small gasp to fall from my wet lips. Fuck, I was about to explode from my own touch. That was not normal at all. It was pathetic.

Frustrated, I was certain that even a quick release in the shower wouldn’t soothe my mounting tension. It never did, considering that over the past few days I couldn’t even sleep, and what was worse was that even violence couldn’t bring me this much-needed relief. As I made my way to the bathroom, I was thinking, literally drowning in my obsessive thoughts.

I need more…I really need to get this done. I REALLY NEED IT! I NEED THEM!

 I bit my lip and turned on the shower, then got rid of my white boxers, stepped out of them, and strided on the cold marble. The water washed over me like a tidal wave. I closed my eyes and let the steam splash along my flushed face. My skin felt like it was on fire, as if I were about to crash into the sun. I couldn't find any way to relax. I felt desperate and angry. I was pretty mad, too. But would killing you have helped me find peace? 

If I knew you were gone, if no one could ever be with you the way I was, would that be what I wanted?

 I let out a deep, exhausted sigh and pressed my forehead against the wet tiles, ignoring the way the tip of my cock brushed against the wall, sending tingles into my very core. The images of you covered in blood, trapped beneath me, almost sent me over the edge. I didn't let myself think about it for too long, though, because I knew it would lead to addiction. As if I weren't already hooked. My breathing got a little uneven, and I started scratching at the white tiles as I got hit by a sudden, intense rush of memories. I remembered your voice, your moans, and the way you screamed my name. I wanted to ruin you, to make you bleed, to tear you apart and leave you just like you left me. The pain you caused was so deep, it lingered. I was so caught up in the moment that I didn't realize what I was doing. I let my hand rest on my throbbing length while the fingers of my other hand slid down my lower back, right between my legs. The moment I touched my tensed asshole, I moaned. I was loud and needy. I was embarrassed but also aroused. I thrust into my hand, slowly at first but gradually losing control, while my digit slid inside my ass completely with ease. I couldn't hold back my whimpers as I was about to cum. My vision was filled with blood, intensifying my fantasies about you. With my eyes closed, I was on the brink of losing it when I suddenly heard some commotion coming from behind the bathroom door. 

"Damn!" I groaned and hit the wall in front of me, my dick pulsing even after I let go of it.

"Honey," Evelyn's voice echoed through the bathroom. I turned to see her casually walking to the shower, her blue eyes curiously examining my bare frame as if she was seeing me like this for the first time. "You didn't close the door."

Fuck, I really didn't.

Scrunching my nose, I pushed my wet hair back and spun around completely, giving her the full view of my nakedness. "I thought I'd leave before you got back..." my reply was brash and sharp. "...at least I hoped so."

Evelyn didn't react, she just stood in front of the shower, blinking and staring at me—at the way the water flowed down my sculpted body, to be exact—and something told me that just watching wasn't going to be enough for her.

"So... are you just going to stay and watch?" I said aloud before opening the glass door and letting some steam out of the shower. 

The blonde grinned broadly but remained motionless. "You're not trying to bait me like that, are you?" 

Jesus Christ, this woman is really driving me crazy.

Irritated, still struggling with my boner, I wanted to drag her into the shower without even asking and make her freshly bought Chanel suit so fucking shitty that she would definitely throw a tantrum, but I managed to control myself.

Leaning against the wet glass, I watched her unclasp her jewels, gems that shone in the dim bathroom light, my hands instinctively slipping down to my aching cock as I was now the one watching Evelyn take off her jacket, the delicate shape of her collarbones forcing me to admit that my wife was, after all, absolutely gorgeous and even though I didn't feel anything... sublime towards her, I couldn't deny that every time she did things like that, she stirred up a burning desire in me.

"What if I do?" My voice dropped lower from the tension building at the base of my spine. "You'll find another stupid excuse to deny me, like you always do?" I gave myself a slow stroke, biting my lips and quickly licking them as Evelyn removed her blouse and placed her leg on the edge of the tub, pulling up her skirt so I could see her black stockings. "Why didn't you go for Bryce when you had the chance?"

My body stopped listening to me as I said these words, as if I was hypnotized, but I felt no remorse, only a pang of conscience for how pathetic I probably was right now, standing in the shower jacking off to the woman I didn't really love, who was probably having an affair with my best friend all this time as a bonus.

"And you're bringing up Bryce again," Evelyn murmured, grinning like a vixen, her hands working meticulously to remove her stockings, stopping only when she was done with her expensive clothes, leaving herself only in a white Vanity Fair lingerie I'd bought her a few days ago to stop her hysteria. "Why is this only bothering you now...after we got married?"

"W-what?" I almost choked on my breath, my hand around my cock stalled in its momentum. "What are you talking about? It...it never bothered me."

Still, her words struck a chord within me and now I was even more angry with myself than before. Evelyn obviously thought she was in control of this situation—her extra confident demeanor, the way she moved and talked, even her blue eyes looked different now, as a wicked spark glinted in them. 

For a fleeting moment, I just stood there, trying to lose myself in the warm streams of water, not really knowing what to say, and a suffocating panic crept into my chest, but then, as I found myself gripping the glass shower door with all the force I could muster so that it wouldn't shatter, my vision blurred for a second before I noticed Evelyn's slender body pressed against the glass, her small but pretty breasts looking so damn inviting that I couldn't hold back a groan.

"What were you saying?" She asked indifferently, the water gurgling mixing with her voice inside my head pulling me into a trance.

"Nothing," I replied, leaning forward and pressing myself against the glass door from the opposite side, my dick brushing against it ever so slightly, but even this mere contact made me close my eyes for a dear moment. "I said nothing..." my eyes darkened, pupils dilated. "Now...get in...will you?" I grinned and tilted my head, watching my wife flutter her thick eyelashes like bird wings.

Evelyn didn't answer, standing still with her body pressed against the shower door, and I couldn't hold back anymore—I just dragged her in, not caring about her expensive lingerie getting soggy—I'd buy her a new one if I had to. With a surprised squeal, she then giggled as the streams of water ran down her fit body, her elegant fingers stroking my cheek for a fleeting moment before I picked her up and turned her around to press her against the cool marble wall. Evelyn's gasp echoed through the bathroom, sending a shiver down my spine, as if I were really into her, into all of this, and if that was not me imagining you in her place, if that was not making me want to be somewhere else right now.

Somewhere where nobody could find me. Us. 

"Patrick," Evelyn's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. "Can you hear me? The water's too hot..."

"Too hot?" I repeated, finding her statement so funny for no reason, but I cooled the water with my free hand anyway, still holding Evelyn in my arms as if she weighed nothing. "I'd say something like..."

"It's not the water that's making it hot, it's me," she cut me off, her face turning into a serious grimace, and for a second I felt like I was going to lose my shit. Is she making fun of me? "I've heard that enough, honey."

Frowning at that fucking nickname I really hated, I noticed the way she was pressing on my shoulders, implying that she wanted me to get her down on the floor, and I did—I didn't want to think, I didn't want to guess what was going through her mind—I just wanted to follow. To feel at least something beyond hatred and disgust. But I guess that was too much to ask.

Without saying a word, I knelt before Evelyn, leveled myself with her perfectly waxed pubic area, her breath hitching as I planted a soft kiss on her mound before tracing a finger along her wet from the water folds through the absolutely drenched fabric of her panties, which were now clinging to her like a second skin. I looked up at her with a mischievous grin, the water hitting my eyes painfully, but I held on to watch that raw need emanating from her body—savoring it like a vampire thirsty for blood.

My actions were smooth, calculated. When I got rid of her damp lingerie, I let the wet clothes that were now spread out on the shower floor fall to the ground, forgotten, and I was sure that Evelyn would have to throw them in a garbage can when we were done. The involuntary arch of her back, her hips brushing against my face and the moan she let out when the tip of my tongue flicked around her feverish clit, that was something I could live with. 

Letting Evelyn grind against my face, I began to eat her pussy more feverishly, my one hand holding her open while another was wrapped tightly around my hard dick as I jerked off in sync with my oral ministrations. It was actually a turn-on, but only because I managed to block out all thoughts of you... In another situation they would have helped me to orgasm, but now... now they would only destroy everything. 

I groaned when Evelyn pulled my hair harder than I liked, but I didn't want to punish her for it, not now, because I was still going to fuck her and this would be a perfect moment to show her how I felt and what I really needed. But then again, all of this made me feel pathetic in some odd, twisted way, that I was a starved dog who had to struggle to find barely any food to survive—what was my life—I was not living, I was surviving.

"Yes...yes...just like that," Evelen keened again as I tongue fucked her flushed cunt. "Keep...g-going..."

I could feel that she was so close to collapsing, it was kind of amusing how fast I could always make her cum, if only she knew that I always did it for myself, not for her, but for me. "Cum around my face," I spat out, my overalls buzzing from the tensind at the base of my cock; these little tingles were going to make me explode, but I didn't hesitate, increasing the pace of my own stroking. "Let it go. Now!"

My voice was muffled, gruff, I was sure its vibration only added to the overwhelming rush of bliss that was about to descend upon my wife as her legs began to tremble, her thigh on my shoulder jerking as I dipped my tongue inside her while my thumb caressed her oversensitive bud. And then she climaxed, convulsing and barely holding herself from screaming, I watched as she silenced herself with her palm, her eyes closed tightly, I reveled in such reactions, I always had, so I didn't stop as I wanted to prolong this scene—a scene full of fake emotions and this was just an echo of something I had experienced and lost— because if I stopped, I would fucking die.

Maybe this is what I always needed? Just to...stop existing?

Panting, I finally moved away from her hot, now swollen cleft, my own heart pounding so fast, but I couldn't move, I just stayed on my knees, the water falling on me like a heavy rain from that day I followed you to the airport and watched the plane take you away from me. For the second fucking time in a row.

Meanwhile, Evelyn was slowly coming down from her high, her chest heaving and falling so fast that for a moment I thought she was going to pass out, but then she turned and leaned against the wall, swaying her hips in the most inviting gesture I'd ever seen her make.

"Shit," I murmured almost imperceptibly, my basic instincts finally taking over. "You want me to fuck you?"

Gasping, she nodded and craned her neck to look back at me, I quickly stood and hugged her from behind, my lips tracing a short trail of kisses along her shoulder as I aligned myself with her entrance, she was so aroused and ready for me that I felt no resistance as I pushed myself into her malleable body. Just a few fleeting seconds for both of us to adjust before my pace picked up, the sound of wet flesh against flesh filling the room, and I pressed closer to Evelyn, her high-pitched moans fading in my delusions as I gave in—the images of you were so clear in my mind now that I clenched my teeth to hold back my own moans—I was weak and I hated myself for it.

Luckily Evelyn was on the pill so I didn't have to worry about a sudden pregnancy, but there was still some fear I tried desperately to ignore, my thrusts became ragged, raw and deep, I was about to spill myself inside her, both palms cupping her breasts, rubbing soft mounds, but then I squeezed them quite roughly and Evelyn's loud whimper was a sheer testament to my ferocity. Feeling my whole system shatter, I managed to stop myself from sinking my teeth into her neck as my vision turned white as I reached my peak with your name on my lips, though I never let myself say it out loud.

A little later that morning, as I dressed in my freshly tailored dark charcoal flannel double-breasted suit with wide white pinstripes, the sun was high in the zenith and its rays bathed Evelyn's bedroom in a soft golden hue. This brief encounter of intimacy with my wife gave me some hope that maybe there was still a chance to live a normal life, the one my mother and father always wanted for me, the American dream family they always told me about, but my parents never really tried to understand me, but since Sean chose a different path in life, not the RIGHT one, the legacy of my family fell on my shoulders.

Trapped in my thoughts, I didn't even notice the phone ringing somewhere next to me, I turned around to see a small black phone on the nightstand. At first I decided to ignore it, since I didn't really care about Evelyn's business, I didn't care at all, but this time something inside of me started to sting.

Who can call her at this hour?

With a soft click of my tongue, I finished adjusting my cufflinks and looked back at the buzzing phone, deciding to pick it up and find out who the hell was calling my wife. "Yes? Who's this?"

"Hello, Patrick," your voice crawled into my brain like a parasite, I swallowed, my skin covered in goosebumps and I sweated almost instantly. "How's it going? Don't you think it's a bit pathetic to think of me when you're banging your lovely wife?"

"You?" Was the only thing I managed to say. "Where did you get this number?"

I heard you laughing as if you were right next to me. "Tim gave it to me," you replied with blatant audacity. "Uh...you're not happy to hear me? That's a shame because I thought you missed me."

"Listen," I spat into the phone, gripping it so tightly that it was about to break in a half in my hand. "I don't know who you think you are...but believe me when I say I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOU AND YOUR FUCKING LIFE! DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

"Patrick? Who are you talking to?" I turned to see Evelyn standing in the doorway, her blue eyes full of concern.

Caught red-handed, I took the phone away from my ear and chuckled. "It's just...a random call...nothing serious." When I said that, her face became even more worried. "Is something wrong, darling?"

Evelyn blinked several times before answering. "I definitely remember turning off the phone before I went to sleep...I always do..."

Her words hung in the air for some time before I could actually continue, and when I finally did, I tugged at my collar from the sudden lack of oxygen in my lungs.

What the fuck?

Under Evelyn's attentive gaze, I looked up at the receiver as if seeing it for the first time in my life, then I pressed it to my ear again and all I heard was silence—a deafening, eerie silence—even a single beep could not be discerned. My throat tightened uncomfortably and I felt like throwing up from the tight knot in my stomach, for I'd never felt such fear before.

"Patrick...are you okay?" The blonde woman asked, not daring to come closer. "Are you taking the medicine your psychiatrist prescribed you..."

"Evelyn!"

"No, I'm serious! This isn't funny Patrick, I'm scared," she suddenly confessed and I swore I couldn't remember seeing her so worried. "You need help...why don't you let people help you?"

With that Evelyn stormed out of the bedroom and I was sure she was crying. Damn women, never give you a chance to explain yourself. I cursed before slamming the phone down on its station with a thud, probably shattering the plastic, but who fucking cared? All they cared about was whether I was taking those fucking pills, but no one really cared about...me. 

It took me some time to calm down and finally go to work. I didn't talk to Evelyn before I left, as it was pointless in her current state. As soon as I was outside, I breathed in the fresh air and watched the passers-by walking here and there without even noticing each other, this scene I saw every day, I picked out my Walkman like in a slow motion movie, put the headphones on my head and then attached it to my belt, the next moment I heard Madonna's deep voice surging through my head.

The taxi ride to the Pierce & Pierce office took longer than usual because of the heavy traffic. When I finally entered the high-rise building, I didn't take off my headphones because I didn't really want to talk to anyone, I just walked through the long corridors like a ghost without a name. It was really interesting that I never really thought about my fucking coworkers constantly messing up my name—they didn't know who I was even though we met every week—but you—you remembered it so clearly, there wasn't a single day that you mistook me for someone else. Jean greeted me as always with her sweet smile. Today she wore a dress and high heels. I smiled at such details and pulled up my headphones so I could hear her. 

"Did I miss anything?" I asked casually, thinking I was late as I often was.

Brushing her blonde hair, my secretary rose from her seat, clutching her favorite notebook to her chest. "Timothy Bryce called to ask about lunch."

My eyebrows raised in skepticism at her words.

Bryce. Wants to see me after not talking to me for almost a week. Interesting.

"Uh, right, but I thought I had a pretty busy schedule today?" I asked nonchalantly.

"Well, yeah," she quickly opened her notebook and then raised her bright eyes to me. "But you have a little window..."

At some point, Jean's voice became as much white noise as Madonna's song, the lyrics of which slipped away from me like a leaf in the wind. The thought of Tim finally revealing that he and Evelyn were having an affair behind my back, as if they really thought I could be stupid enough not to notice, brought me a strange sense of relief. It was like an itchy splinter in your finger that you couldn't bring yourself to pull out, but you knew that the longer it stayed there, the worse it would get.

"Okay, Jean," I heaved abruptly. "Be a doll and make a rez in a good place. Then call Bryce back."

Jean was noticeably confused, but I was too overwhelmed with my own chaotic thoughts that there was no room for anything else. With a devoted nod, she returned to her seat and I opened the door to my office, where everything was the same, all things in the places I had left them. At least there seemed to be something constant in my life.

The rustling of chatter and the clinking of silverware against plates mingled in a wild cacophony of sounds I was quite familiar with—I was born in the middle of this madness, to say the least, the lush life of people like me was something you couldn't really avoid, though I never tried to avoid it, I enjoyed every little benefit I got from being rich. 

So now I was sitting in Delmonico's lash interior, holding a glass of J&B on rocks in one hand and a cigar in the other. I waited for Bryce to come and soon I noticed his approaching figure, his black hair slicked back as usual, and I even chuckled at how fucking punctilious this man always was. Tim ordered a glass of Russian vodka and some seafood appetizers. After a short casual conversation we both fell silent and just when I was expecting him to tell me the reason why he wanted to see me, he suddenly picked up a shiny cardholder and put it on the table, then took out a pack of cigarettes to grab one.

"New cardholder?" I asked, definitely remembering that Bryce used to have a different one. "Looks...nice."

"It's platinum," Timothy commented before lighting his cigarette, his gray eyes scanning the room before focusing on me. "It's a gift...from our mutual friend."

Friend?

I almost bit the inside of my cheek to the point of bleeding. "Really?"

Bryce let out a puff of smoke and pointed to my empty glass. "I heard you quit drinking," he grinned and dabbed the ash from his cigarette. "That you're on... some medication."

"I wonder who told you that," my jaw almost snapped in anger, I had to claw at my knee to regain some composure. "And yes, I had to take medication for a while...but I'm on a break now." I hoped he could tell by the tone of my voice that I wasn't going to continue this conversation. "Who else would know how it works better than you since you went through rehab. Am I right, Bryce?"

I knew how much he hated talking about it, so his recent bravado faded like a cloud of smoke, but his cheeky grin never left his face.

"I get it, I get it," he laughed softly before sipping his drink. "You definitely got off on the wrong foot today, but it's okay," the man swirled his glass in his hand, watching the ice cubes clink against its walls. "I just wanted to tell you that... you're definitely missing something. Or maybe I should say—someone."

Narrowing my eyes, I tilted my head to the side. "Maybe you can tell me something more...specific, or are we going to play that crappy guessing game?"

Bryce shifted in his seat and wanted to say something, but he was interrupted by two familiar voices—Craig and David.

Shit, why did those two idiots have to come right now?

The moment was ruined, and so was I.

"Wow, I can't believe my eyes! See, I told you they had a date," McDermott let out a loud chuckle, my fists clenched, and if we were somewhere else, preferably alone, I'd fucking break my glass against his smug face. "I called Jean and she said you two were having lunch together. Isn't that sweet?"

"Oh, fuck you, McDermott!" Bryce retorted, but he wasn't really angry. "Fuck you and your cheap jokes. Your sense of humor is as flat as the ass of that chick you met in the Tunnel yesterday. Besides, how was she?"

The Tunnel, that damn club that started all this shit. I closed my eyes and tried to shake off the unwelcome memories of that day, but all I wanted to do was leave this place. Bryce's words became a breaking point, they helped a cup of weights to turn to another side without him even knowing it. Slowly I rose from the table, ignoring any questions, dismissing them with a clumsy gesture.

This evening was destined to be spent in the Tunnel after everything that happened today. I didn't tell anyone about my spontaneous venture to find some escape in the nightclub full of drug-addicted chicks and yuppies like me. My mind was racing with the idea of doing some coke, all I had to do was find the dealer that Bryce and I always hang out with and get a gram. A very simple plan to forget about all the shit that was going on in my life for a while.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, they say.

As I strolled across the dance floor, I noticed the bar was pretty empty, so I decided to have a drink before finding the dealer, as the glass of whiskey I had at lunch was not enough. The bartender greeted me with a polite smile as he cleaned the bar. 

"Good evening, sir," the man took a shiny glass and set it in front of me. "What would you like to drink?"

"A J&B straight and a Corona." I replied, taking a seat and fumbling for my wallet.

The bartender nodded and went to get my drinks. While I waited, I looked around when I noticed the only person sitting at the bar—it turned out to be a redheaded girl, a very good looking one—I hummed to myself, absolutely sure that such a girl was definitely not alone tonight. 

"Your drinks, sir." The bartender placed an open bottle of Corona next to my glass, now filled with my favorite whiskey.

"Thank you." I handed him a few bills before he could even tell me how much I had to pay. 

The young man babbled something incoherent that I couldn't even make out, but after I gave him a dead stare, he just took the money and finally left me alone. Annoyed, I checked the time on my Rolex before grabbing a bottle of Corona to take a sip, but I was interrupted again. This time not by the bartender.

"Hey," a soft female voice hung over my ear, sending a massive wave of excitement through me. I turned to see that the chick from the other end of the bar was now standing so close to me that I could smell her flowery perfume. "Are you here alone?"

I wish I could say that, but my thoughts of you were always here, with me, but instead of saying that bullshit, I nodded and grinned, checking her body in the most humiliating way, thinking it would scare her away from me, but the gleam in her green eyes only increased after my move.

God, she doesn't know what she's asking for.

"Yeah, you could say that." I smiled again as she sat down next to me. "What about you?"

The girl leaned against the bar, her ginger hair cascading down her elegant shoulders, and for a moment I couldn't take my eyes off her. "I wasn't supposed to be alone tonight, but...you know how it is...most men are total jerks."

I could barely keep myself from bursting out laughing. "Did someone offend you?" She played with the gold bracelet on her wrist and nodded shyly, a move I suddenly found very sexy. "Do you mind if I get you a drink?"

"First, tell me your name," she muttered in a challenging way—a blatant provocation that I ate like a starved man. "Then I'll think about it."

This girl is so sweet, I bet her insides are the same.

At first I wanted to use a fake name, like I always did, but then I just gave her my real name, because in the end it would make no difference. "Patrick....Patrick Bateman," I finally took a sip of Corona and savored the taste. "And you?"

"Nicole," the girl said, still fiddling with her jewelry. "But I used to have a lot of different names."

"I like this one," I chuckled, smiling charmingly. "It suits a girl like you."

"A girl like me?"

"A beautiful girl...very beautiful I must say." My voice was deep and soft like silk, I noticed the way she straightened her shoulders, slowly but gradually relaxing. 

"You really think so?" She asked me, her eyes roaming over my mischievous face, then down to my lips.

Instead of answering, I just smiled in the most enchanting way possible before calling for the bartender to order her a drink. Nicole and I talked for a while—she told me she was from Canada and didn't really have any friends in New York—it was strangely satisfying but I tried to be sympathetic and supportive even though my mind was so far away from here. The ginger girl didn't even notice how she finished one cocktail and then another, while I didn't even touch my whiskey, just idly sipped my bottle of Corona because for some reason I wanted to be as sober as possible.

As the club was getting more and more empty, Nicole was ready to give me a blowjob right at the bar, but I convinced her to go to my place and to be honest, I didn't expect it to be that easy since I hadn't really planned anything like that. I forgot about the drug dealer because now I had to worry about what I was going to say to Evelyn tomorrow because I was definitely not going to spend the night with her. 

"Patrick..." Nicole nestled into my side as we sat in the cab. "Did I tell you I know...F-French?"

I crossed my arms and shook my head in dismay. "No, you didn't," I said, looking down at her red, messy hair. "But it's nothing special...you're from Canada and French is your second official language."

Nicole let out a cartoonish giggle that made me cringe. "Oh...you know it? Damn, you're such a smart man...Mr. Bateman...so fucking smart...most guys I've slept with....didn't know that..." she giggled again and tried to pinch my nose, but I shooed her away. "Can you believe that?"

At a certain point, I was even starting to regret bringing her along, but I hoped I'd be able to shut her mouth with something...sharp and maybe deadly. "It happens, Nicole. Like you said, there were so many bad people in this town. Fortunately, you're lucky to have met someone like me."

The girl hugged me at my words, I could feel her drunk breath next to my lips, but instead of turning away I let her kiss me and it felt better than I expected. Soon the cab pulled up to the American Gardens Building. The walk up to my apartment didn't take much time, I was already thinking about how I was going to dispose of her body after I was done with her. Nicole, completely unaware of my dark thoughts, walked around my apartment barefoot as she kicked off her shoes, complaining about how fucking uncomfortable they were.

"Oh, this place is so fucking...c-cool!" She managed to say, swaying from side to side while moving. "Jesus, is that a telescope? Why do you even need that?" Nicole giggled like a child seeing one for the first time, but who knew, maybe she really was seeing it for the first time. "Do you... spy on people with that... thing?"

"No, Nicole." I replied curtly, standing next to her with my hands hidden in the pockets of my tailored pants. 

"Are you...an astronaut...from NASA?" She asked, then winced when she finally noticed my looming figure. "Are you... going to send me to the moon tonight, handsome?"

"I'll do more than that," I crooned, placing my hand on her waist and pulling her closer. "But I must say one thing you may not like..." a short pause, then a soft rumble left my throat. "I prefer that beautiful mouth of yours to be closed. Do you understand?"

I was expecting anything other than this bitch dropping to her knees and immediately working on unbuckling my belt. The way she was behaving was both amusing and enticing, but what I enjoyed most was that she was so naive and completely dumb.

"Look at you," I murmured before grabbing a handful of her ginger curls that were blocking her vision. "So inpatient, huh?"

By the time she managed to undo my pants, I was already so hard that my dick sprang out of the confines of my clothes and almost slapped her face, but it didn't bother her at all—I could only see an uncontrollable desire in those big green eyes that were now looking at me as if asking for my permission. 

Shameless, pathetic whore.

With a practiced move, I grabbed the back of her head to pull her closer to my crotch, then pressed my engorged dick against her lips, sliding it along them and making her lick off my pre-cum. "Yeah," I croaked, biting my own lips. "I definitely like you more like this...open your mouth, bitch."

Nicole obeyed and the next thing I knew I was thrusting into her mouth, her warmth welcoming me and making me grunt as I bucked my hips into her face, pushing myself further until I heard her gag around my shaft.

"'C'mon, choke on my dick," I snarled, pulling on her hair with brutal force, her nose rubbing against my pubis and I snaked my hand down to rest on her throat, wanting to feel my cock slide along it. "I'm sure no one has ever face fucked you like that...am I right, honey?"

I used that ugly nickname Evelyn always gave me and pulled myself out of her mouth to hear her answer, but she just gulped desperately for air and grabbed my legs for any semblance of support. 

"Oh-Christ...you're...s-so fucking big," she wept, trying to wipe the liquid mixture off her chin, but I wouldn't let her, pulling her head back. "Shit...you're really one of those guys...who likes it rough?"

With a devilish smile, I gave myself several quick strokes before answering. "Oh, darling. You can't even imagine how MUCH I like that kind of thing."

Panting, Nicole was not ready for me to invade her mouth again, but I didn't care, just as I ignored her little protest when I fucked her throat and felt the curve of my dick slide into her wet, tight channel. It was a bliss I had always sought, that fleeting moment of raw control over another human, once you tasted it you couldn't stop yourself.

Perfection.

As time passed, I came at least twice in her abused mouth, each time making sure she swallowed every drop, but then I got bored of fucking her face and left her sprawled out on my expensive living room floor, which I would definitely have to call the maid service to clean. Barely alive, Nicole literally vomited my sperm mixed with her blood, her plump lips swollen and bruised from my beatings—I couldn't stress her pathetic whimpering anymore, so I had to act—but she would last a while longer, I was sure of it.

As I rummaged through my stuff in the bedroom to get a condom, Nicole's pathetic whimpering was like music to my ears, but at some point I considered turning on some real music to muffle the girl's screams, although to my surprise she was not that loud. But just in case, I returned to the living room and stepped over Nicole, who was still lying on the floor, to get to my stereo and put on the latest Talking Heads album, True Stories.

"I didn't ask you what kind of music you like," I suddenly chuckled and moved closer to the sobbing girl to crouch down beside her. "But I doubt it would change anything."

After that, I stood up and decided to strip completely, every move I made calculated and mastered to perfection. One second, two seconds....ten seconds and I was almost naked, when the only thing left on me was my gold Rolex, I heard her weak, shaky voice:

"Whitney Houston," she murmured, barely audible. "I love Whitney Houston."

I stopped in my tracks. "Oh...really? What is your favorite song?"

My lips were curled in a smile that came dangerously close to something insane as I carefully placed all my clothes on one of my black chairs before picking up the girl and moving her to the window—away from my white couch that I didn't want to stain with her fucking blood. She didn't struggle, she didn't struggle at all as I positioned her against the window, pressing her bruised face against the cold glass.

"Take Good Care of My Heart," the redhead added as I began to poke at her soaked pussy, which was not shaved like most of the girls I used to have, and to be honest, I really liked it. "I...I really love the whole album."

"Oh yeah," I chuckled into her ear, fixing her in place as the tip of my cock plunged into her, causing her legs to shake. "This is such a good album..."

With that I bottomed her out completely, my balls slapping against her ass, red from my spanking, I thought I could see the outline of my hand. Her little cunt felt no worse than her mouth, but it was not as tight...after being with you, nothing seemed tight enough to me.

Fuck it!

Cursing under my breath, I sped up to pound into her as hard as I could. Thank God the glass didn't break, but I changed our position anyway. Now Nicole was bent over my black leather chair, her ass wiggling every time I thrust into her and I couldn't stop myself from spanking her, I wanted her to fucking scream and cry out in pain but all I could get from her was nothing that could signal that she was in pain. On the contrary, this girl seemed to enjoy it so much, as her hips moved in rhythm with mine, she bucked in my direction to meet my movements.

"Shit, you fuck like a whore," I blurted out, grabbing her hair in a self-made ponytail. "Is that why you came to America? To be a fucktoy for men like me?"

"Mmm...f-fuck me...please...fuck me!" Nicole didn't seem to hear me, I had to squeeze her throat to shut her up. "Ye-yes...fucking...c-choke me...please!"

Stupid bitch.

In one swift motion, I pulled out only to slam into her unprepared asshole, making her scream in pain and fuck, she sounded amazing. Quickly wiping the sweat from my forehead, I pushed her down on my cock, noticing the crimson drops of her blood on my dick, which only spurred me to move faster and more ferociously. This bitch didn't see it coming, but she was still pretty obedient, which started to seem pretty weird to me, because usually by this time women start to panic, fight and try to escape, but this fucking hoe didn't even say a word about the way I was treating her.

And that started to disappoint me.

When I thought I was not going to climax, I closed my eyes and let my imagination take control of my brain. Huffing, I rammed into Nicole harder, fantasizing about you—how we could go 69, your fingers buried deep inside my asshole - I could fucking feel the sensation of them and it sent an electric shock right through my tensed sac.

"Oh, fuck," I gripped her waist with both hands, fucking her with pure abandon. "You...fucking...arrogant prick...I hate you! I hate you s-so fucking much!"

All my curses fell on deaf ears as Nicole only whimpered in response, gripping the back of the chair and the next second I found her cumming around my cock, her inner walls spasming around me, triggering my own orgasm.

 When I was finally finished with her, I stood over her trembling body as she lay on the floor again. The girl was shaking and giggling, I thought she probably lost her mind already, so instead of using a knife or something, I decided to just strangle her with my bare hands. I wanted to see life slowly leave her body. I fucking craved it.

"Nicole," I shook her before getting on top of her, pressing her down with the weight of my muscular body. "Look at me."

Nicole's bloodshot eyes couldn't focus on mine for some time, she was stunned, dazed, ruined and intoxicated, I had to slap her face several times before she finally locked her hazy gaze with mine. The sweet anticipation of the kill enveloped my mind, my cock grew hard again as I placed both hands around her fragile neck, I began to squeeze it, lightly at first but then more and more forcefully.

"You made a big mistake coming to America, Nicole." I let out a taunt, not really expecting her to hear it or respond to it.

Everything was going according to plan when she suddenly smiled and covered my hands, not to take them off, but to stroke them with a wicked... attraction?

"Please...kill me already...I beg you..." She couldn't stop herself from crying and laughing. 

This was a psychotic episode I had experienced so many times, but I never expected to see it with my own eyes. I froze in shock, losing my grip, and as I did, Nicole pulled my hands back to her throat, shaking me as if to wake me up.

"No, no, no, no! Please...don't stop...please...I want to die! Patrick, please...set me free!" Nicole's voice cracked and I could finally see the sheer desperation in her green eyes, but this kind of desperation was different. 

This wasn't the kind of despair I'd seen before...this was something completely different. It was kind of a turn-off for me. The whole evening was fucking ruined, I couldn't believe it. Shaking my head, I stood up and stepped away from her as if from a fire. 

"Patrick...please!"

"Shut up!" I yelled, looking down at my own hands—they were shaking so badly. "Shut the fuck up!"

In a panic, I rushed to the bathroom to wash my hands for who knows what reason, then grabbed my robe and put it on. I couldn't really explain what was happening to me, but when I got back to the living room, I picked up Nicole's clothes and threw them at her.

"Get dressed," I ordered, and then I went into the bedroom to unlock my safe and take out several bundles of money. What was I doing? Panting, I paused in the doorway to watch her get dressed, then walked over to her and handed her the money. "I want you to take this, go to a hospital and get back to Canada. Do you hear me, Nicole?"

The redhead was silent, just looking at me with her pleading eyes. "But I don't want to go..."

"You have to." I emphasized the words by lowering my voice. "Just do what I say and everything should be... okay."

"But I don't want it to be okay." Nicole tried to touch me, but I pulled away.

"Just go," I repeated my previous words, this time in a more serious voice. "And never come back."

I spent the rest of the night sitting in the shower, literally sitting on the floor, crying. A lot. My eyes were so red and puffy that I didn't know which ice mask would help me look normal tomorrow. The hatred of myself that rose from my chest to my cheeks and made me nauseous—I hated myself so much that I finally admitted that I had changed—you had changed me and there was no going back. The man I was before died, now I was just an empty being, or maybe a new man had been born in my shallow soul?

When I finally managed to drag my ass out of the bathroom, the phone rang and I was sure it was Evelyn trying to fuck my brain for not coming back to her apartment and to be fair, I wasn't ready for anything like that at that moment, but considering how much of a pain in the ass she was, I didn't want any more consequences if I didn't pick up the fucking call.

As I walked into the bedroom, I took the phone from my nightstand and finally answered the call. "Yes?"

"Patrick! Jesus, I thought you weren't going to answer the call!" It was you, damn it, it was you.

My teeth almost creaked with anger and disbelief. "How many times do I have to tell you to fuck off?! Are you stalking me or what? How the fuck did you know I was in my apartment?"

"I... I didn't know... I just decided to try my luck and here we are," you replied, your voice was different than it sounded this morning. "Listen Patrick, I'm in New York right now...maybe we can see each other?"

"See each other?" Those words made me sick. "Do you even hear yourself?"

"I know that...things are pretty tense between us, but...maybe we can at least talk about it?"

"No, we can't," I clutched the phone as tightly as I could. "I don't want to see you and I don't want to hear you. Do you understand? If you ever call me again, I'll fucking find you and KILL YOU!"

With that, I dropped the phone on the floor and screamed so loudly that my throat began to hurt. Right now I was nothing but a living madness, the things that were happening in my mind were like an open chasm to hell—a place I'd be one day, I had no doubt about it.

The few days I spent in a dizzy state, I couldn't really remember what I was doing, but the only thing I was sure of was that I couldn't stop thinking about you. Also, I didn't kill anyone for lack of thrill, there was no more adrenaline or excitement—you changed me and now spilling some blood couldn't help me to relieve myself anymore. I felt like I was being shattered into pieces, decomposed into something primitive, for the first time I saw myself as being even more inhuman than I really was.

Inhuman.

What a perfect word to describe everything about me, but I still couldn't understand where I belonged? If not here, could there be a place for a creature like me?

This question was swirling around in my head like a brain worm; that damn rainy evening when I decided to stalk my dear wife. After my rather long absence, Evelyn was about to go to the police, but then I showed up at the door of her apartment at night, high as hell, but she didn't seem surprised at all. I expected her to be mad and angry, but instead she treated me really nice, I could hear her crying and her desperate touch when she hugged me, weeping and sobbing something about being so scared and worried about me and although I didn't believe a single word that came out of her mouth, something stirred inside of me.

The raindrops were falling on my umbrella like Morse code, hitting the surface with such a precise rhythm that I really thought maybe something or someone was trying to send me a sign. The level of absurdity was over the top, and if I were in a different state mentally and physically, I'd be laughing my ass off at this shit, but today I couldn't do anything funny. I couldn't smile, I couldn't sneer, I was like a ghost, a shadow of the person I was before I met you. So here I was, following Evelyn down the street after the taxi ride until I saw her stop at some hotel—a luxury hotel in Upper Manhattan to be exact— and then, after some time, when I thought nothing interesting would happen, a sleek black Cadillac stopped by the street and I saw Timothy Bryce get out of the car—he was holding a black umbrella just like me. Evelyn was so excited to see him that she didn't even wait for them to go inside the hotel, she kissed him now and then without holding back her emotions. This scene made the stone fall off my shoulders; I was so damn happy that I was right and that this fake marriage was about to collapse, but I still couldn't understand why Evelyn married me at all. To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if one day, when we finally had a serious talk about it, she would confess that she loved both of us—me and Bryce— and suggested that we all live together.

Say hello to an altered version of the American dream family.

The reality was always cruel, and I knew it too well.

A loud clap of thunder echoed through my apartment, waking me up in my living room, drenched in sweat. Breathing heavily, I turned around to register some pornography playing on my TV, my robe was undone, I was completely naked underneath, some remnants of my cum stuck to my stomach.

Shit, I just blacked out jerking off? This porn really sucks.

And this was the 5th or maybe 10th porn tape I had watched, and I only managed to cum once. Cursing and scowling, I fidgeted on my couch to find a remote control. I was disgusted with my current situation, but then I noticed two thin lines of white powder on my glass coffee table and a twisted $100 bill. Now everything started to fall into place.

Fuck, where did I even get this gram?

I rubbed my head, and instead of turning off the porn, I turned it up louder—two perfect bimbos making out, their oiled bodies wrapped around each other like two snakes—my hand instinctively sliding back to my hard cock, throbbing and soaked with my cum.

"Oh-fuck..." I murmured through clenched teeth as I pumped myself, watching the girls play with their large breasts. "Yeah...suck her tits...suck them like a fucking pacifier..."

The louder their moaning got, the more excited I got, and just when I thought I was about to climax again, I heard... a fucking phone ringing loudly—it hurt my hearing. Confused, I stopped doing anything, ignoring the fact that one slut was now riding on the face of another. There was only one thing I could think about right now— had I turned off my phone or not? Because I definitely remembered pulling the fucking cords out of it, but that thing kept ringing? 

Slowly I got up on my stiff legs and walked to the kitchen island to grab the phone, the only light coming from my playing TV and I bumped into something pretty hard before the fucking receiver was in my hand.

"Patrick Bateman's apartment..." I almost whispered, pressing the receiver harder against my head.

"...Pat..." the echo of a familiar voice wailed from the other end of the line, but I still couldn't make out who it was. "...need... -h-help!"

"Who...am I talking to?"

"Patrick, please, help me," your voice sounded so clear now that it echoed inside my skull, drowning out all the sounds of the bad weather outside. "I'm...I'm at Paul Allen's...I need help...please...I think I'm gonna die..."

Was this some kind of prank? 

I turned around and scanned my apartment as if someone was watching me right now. I felt insane and cornered, if I was really losing my mind the best option now would be to take more coke and trigger an overdose and then...

"Can you hear me? Please, come here, I'll... give you the address..." and then I heard loud interference and noise, so I had to pull the phone away for a second. "Patrick? Please...talk to me!"

"What...what happened?" I asked, still not believing what I was doing. "Are you in pain?"

"No...yes....Patrick...listen...you should write down the address..."

Without thinking, I grabbed the Vogue magazine lying next to the phone and a pencil, and the next second I was writing down the address where Paul Allen was supposed to live. 

"Hold on! I'll be right there!" I suddenly said into the phone, but all I could hear was the agonizing beep. "Hey...I'll be there...do you hear me? I'LL BE THERE!"

Fuck!

I dropped the phone and took several deep breaths before I finally came to my senses, or so I thought. Then I rushed to the bathroom to clean up and put something on without worrying too much. So I grabbed the first suit out of my closet, fixed my hair and left my apartment to take a cab. All the way to Paul's, I was holding a crumpled page of Vogue that I had to rip out. At first I didn't even notice that I wasn't surprised when the cabbie just nodded and we drove off, so this address was real? It meant you really called me? And what about all the previous calls?

Perplexed, I leaned against the cool glass of the car window and watched the nighttime cityscape blur into something unrecognizable, almost falling asleep, but the driver turned on the radio with some cheesy pop songs that kept me awake, as I was too irritated to ignore how much I disliked such music. When the car stopped in front of a towering building like the one I lived in, I paid the driver twice what I was supposed to and got out of the cab. There were no pedestrians and for a moment I really thought that maybe I was still asleep and had to pinch myself to wake up in my living room?

As I entered the building I saw a table where the concierge should be sitting, but there was no one, so I casually opened the journal to find the number of Allen's apartment—I felt a creeping shock when I actually found his name in the journal.

Okay… this feels…too real.

Feeling a strange thrill of the rush, I closed the journal and sauntered quickly across the large lobby to the elevators. Paul's apartment was on the 15th floor, so when the door opened on the floor I needed, I stepped out of the elevator with a heavy weight in my chest. Every step I took resonated with the fast beating of my heart, and when I reached my destination, I didn't know what to do - whether to ring the bell or knock or…

Shaking myself off, I first rang the doorbell—nothing. Then I knocked several times, then again, still no answer. Finally, I put my ear to the door to listen, but I couldn't hear a single sound. Anger overcame me, so I kicked the door and turned to leave. How stupid was I? Maybe mixing my pills and coke wasn't the best idea, but this...

When I got back to the lobby, an old man, who must have been a missing concierge, greeted me with a fake polite smile. "Greetings, sir. How can I help you?"

Annoyed as hell, I stopped next to his small table, adjusted my leather gloves, and pointed to his journal. "I was looking for Paul Allen's apartment, he's my friend and I wanted to see him, but it seems...he's out tonight."

"Oh, Mr. Allen left on a business trip this morning." The concierge said casually, but then he noticed how pale I'd become. "Sir, is something wrong?"

"Did you say he left this morning?" I asked again, feeling a few beads of sweat on my tense forehead.

"Yes, sir," the old man opened the journal and began to leaf through it. "I can even tell you the exact time he left..."

"No need. Thank you." Was all I said before I turned on my heels and headed for the exit.

Outside I noticed that the taxi that had brought me here was still standing by the side of the road. It was strange but I didn't even think about it. I got in and asked the driver to take me back to my place, but first I asked him to give me a moment to sit and think. With shaking hands I picked up the crumpled piece of paper with the address on it, I traced my handwriting before throwing it out the window, my temples pounding so hard I thought my head would explode. Exhausted both mentally and physically, I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples, not noticing that the concierge I was talking to literally ran out of the building, looking around, seeking someone.

"Let's go." I ordered the cab driver with my eyes still closed. "And can you please turn off the music...my head is killing me."

The taxi drove off and I didn't see or hear the old man following the car. "Sir, wait! I made a mistake about Mr. Allen-"

Today, after I refused to go shopping with Evelyn and help her choose a fucking curtain for her living room, she finally told me that she never loved me, that she wanted a divorce and nothing else from me. The relief I felt was comparable to a good orgasm, to say the least, Evelyn was shocked at my reaction—did she really expect me to beg for forgiveness? But the single mention of Bryce made everything come to its place, I wasn't angry, no, I just couldn't solve this fucking puzzle, what was all this for? If she really liked Bryce, why couldn't she just tell me and go for him? How many times had I told her that? A hundred? A thousand? Millions? Luckily, I wasn't inclined to leave my stuff in her apartment, so I finished my busing with 'moving out' pretty quickly and smoothly, because something glorious and important was waiting for me. The last moment of my drama.

I imagine that maybe someday there will be a show on Broadway based on my life—a great example of a life that no one should have lived—I smiled at the thought, as I always liked to romanticize things in the most clichéd and poetic way. After all, Bryce was right, I was mental, and no matter how hard I tried to run away from the dark version of myself, it would catch up with me one day. And that day seemed to have finally come.

As I walked down Wall Street, wearing my favorite headphones and listening to Huey Lewis and the News, I stumbled by the phone booth—a random idea plagued my mind before I could really think about it. Opening my briefcase, I found my notebook, and soon I was dialing your office number, hoping you wouldn't answer. But my hopes were never to be fulfilled. 

To my surprise, I heard a male voice coming from the phone and all the words stuck in my throat like a lump. "Uh...hi...can I talk to..."

"Sorry sir, I can't hear you properly...it might be the bad connection," the voice replied and it made me really nervous. "I'm sorry, but if you want to talk to my boss, they are out of the office right now."

Out of the office…shit.

"Who am I talking to?" I asked, almost fainting.

"Vinc..." an unpleasant static noise came over my brain and I held my eyes closed for a second from the stabbing pain in my temples. "My name is Vincent...I'm .... assistant."

"Listen, Vincent..." I started to speak, not even knowing that he could hear my words. "I want you to tell your boss that...Patrick Bateman called and...this would be my LAST call," I laughed hysterically, leaning against the phone booth door. "I'm going to, uh... disappear..."

A short pause seemed like an eternity.

"You mean you are leaving New York City, sir?" Vincent's question surprised me.

My lips twitched in a wicked smile. "No...I mean...yes..."

"Are you going somewhere in particular, Mr. Bateman?" The man asked me and I stopped breathing for a second.

"I'm going...to a place where no one will ever...find me..."

And with that I hung up the phone. There was already a line of people by the phone booth, and as I walked away, they looked at me with the most disdainful look I could ever dream of mastering. Unfortunately, I wouldn't need it anymore.

Soon the white walls of my apartment would be the only witness to my last confession. My apartment smelled so fresh and good, the maid had just finished cleaning, and I was glad that if the police found my body, they would see that wealth and money were not a panacea for a happy life, although I had believed in it fervently for almost all these years. With deliberate steps, I walked into my bathroom, grabbed a small bottle of medicine prescribed by my psychiatrist, and popped a handful of pills at once. Then I looked at my reflection in the mirror and somehow realized that the mask I had worn for most of my adult life was about to slip. Right now, at this very moment, I was about to die. An abnormal dizziness washed over me, I could barely stand on my feet when I suddenly saw your silhouette behind me in the mirror. I gulped and turned around to see nothing but the empty doorway, my hands shaking so badly that I failed to put the bottle back in its place, dropping it on the floor and scattering pills all over the bathroom.

Holy shit.

A strong gag reflex suddenly took over me and I managed to get to the toilet faster than I could throw up—I threw up all the pills—Jesus Christ, I was so weak I couldn't even finish this... I was so pathetic. In the end, I finally accepted that as the darkness took me in its cold embrace.

Knock…knock…

What is this? Am I still alive?

I kept questioning myself because I didn't feel anything, no pain, no remorse, nothing. But if I were dead, I wouldn't hear that strange sound, would I? I opened my wet eyes and looked up at the white ceiling—I was still in my bathroom— lying on my back, covered in my own vomit, saliva and bile. My mouth smelled like a rotten rat and I knew what I was talking about. The annoying knocking kept coming from my front door, and although I didn't want to get up, I felt that if I didn't, this fucking knocking would never stop.

With careful, unhurried movements, I crawled to the sink and, leaning on the bathroom counter, managed to stand up and quickly brush my teeth, avoiding looking at my reflection because I was sure I looked like shit. After that, I took off my stained clothes and put on a new robe that I had bought myself for no reason a few days ago. 

As I approached the front door, the knocking stopped and I thought it was just another hallucination, but I decided to open the door anyway and to my surprise I saw my concierge who looked very worried and even scared.

"Mr. Bateman, thank God you're all right!" The man blurted out, holding his concierge hat in his hands.

"Of course I'm okay," I replied nonchalantly. "What happened? Or did you just come to check on me?"

"Well," the concierge looked away before rubbing his gray mustache. "Someone was looking for you..."

My eyebrows furrowed, and I peered out into the long corridor. "Who was it? Did they give a name? Was it a policeman or something?" 

"No, sir." The old man gave me an awkward smile that made me even more angry. "They were so desperate...they were literally storming around the lobby...constantly saying things about you not answering calls and not opening the door...I told them maybe you just left..."

The rest of what he said fell on deaf ears, because now I was absolutely sure who was looking for me. "What time is it now?"

"11 a.m., sir."

"Today is Friday, right?" I asked, my head spinning. "It should be Friday."

The concierge paused. "It's Sunday, sir."

Sunday?

A sharp pang of nausea crept into my stomach, nearly breaking me in half, but I managed to grab hold of the doorjamb for support. "Where is this person?"

"Mr. Bateman, I had to call the police because they were being...kind of aggressive," the concierge explained, stepping back a bit. "The cops arrived pretty quickly...they found out this person had drugs, sir."

I stagger to the side as if from the hard blow. "And what happened next...did they arrest them?"

"I...I guess so?"

I let out a tired sigh, rolling my eyes and trying to keep it together - this poor guy was not guilty, it was just an accident, but how did you get caught with drugs? It was so fucking illogical to me.

My voice was unnaturally soft as I tried my fucking best not to snap at the man across from me. "Did the cops really take them away? Did you see that with your own eyes?" The concierge just nodded, and I could tell by his nervousness that he felt it was his fault at some level. "All right, thank you for your information, remind me to tip you next month." And with that, I closed the front door, leaving the man in a completely bewildered state.

Shit...this whole situation seemed like a fucking joke, but I had to think fast—I needed a plan how to solve this bullshit and maybe I could get some answers if I could help you. I took a moment to collect myself and told myself that one way or another I had to go there...to rescue you.

I'll do it even if I have to burn down this police station.

In record time, my impeccable appearance was ready, and now I confidently walked down the long, dimly lit corridor of the police station that was closest to where I lived—I hoped you were in that station, but if not, I would visit all of them until I found you.

Finally, I reached the reception area, where a pretty policewoman greeted me with a friendly smile. "Good afternoon, sir. What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for..." I opened my briefcase and showed her my notebook with your full name written in it. "Are they here, in this department? I believe they were arrested today."

The officer smiled at me before she turned around and started to rummage through some papers, folds, notes... With each passing moment I was getting more and more impatient, but I had to play it cool.

"I think I found the person you were looking for," the woman said, placing several documents on the reception desk, implying that I should take a look at them. "They were delivered here an hour ago."

"Can I see them?" I asked, putting on my casual, seductive smile.

“And what is your relationship to the suspect?” 

Damn, not this fucking question.

I was a little stunned at first, but then I quickly tugged at my red tie and tilted my head in a condescending way. "I'm their lawyer, and I need to see them as soon as possible."

I noticed that her expression suddenly changed, her eyes gliding over my massive form—she was obviously trying to access my appearance and compare it to the look of a successful lawyer living in New York City—when I gave her an intense look and then winked, she visibly blushed.

After a small cough, she took the documents and only then dared to look at me again. "The suspect is now in interrogation room number one. Don't get lost."

"Thanks." I grinned broadly and, after closing my briefcase, left the reception.

It didn't take me long to find the interrogation room I needed. As I stopped right next to the door, I checked myself in the reflection of the nearby window—I looked perfect, not as perfect as I used to be, but not too horrible either.

A light knock on the door before I opened it. "Good afternoon, sorry for the long wait. How is my client? I hope you haven't done anything inappropriate in my absence?"

The moment our eyes met, I could see a mixture of shock, disbelief, and something beyond human understanding.

"And who the hell is that?" One of the officers—a rather fat guy with a messy beard—asked his partner, then looked at you. "You said you were from Chicago and your lawyer had to catch a flight here."

"Yes, that's exactly what I said. Why are you telling me my own words?" You crossed your arms and gave me a scorching gaze, I seized the moment of your confusion to nestle into the empty chair next to you. "Probably...my lawyer has handed this case over to his colleague in New York, so he doesn't have to come here."

Both policemen looked at us as if we were idiots—which we definitely were—but I hoped this affair would work out.

"But you asked to be allowed to make a phone call... the whole damn time," another policeman replied, pointing his finger at you and then at me. "I'm going to send you both to jail if you don't tell me what-"

"Jesus Christ, I told you several times...I was at a party...I took someone's coat by mistake and there was...this fucking bag of cocaine, but it's not mine! You can check the fingerprints and you won't find mine on this fucking bag! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU?"

"My client is right. Before we get the results of the fingerprint analysis, the presumption of innocence should not be forgotten." I started in the most serious tone I could manage. "Remember that."

Both officers started arguing with each other almost immediately, using many different insults that I would definitely have to remember so that I could present them to Tim— he would love to hear them. I was about to say something clever when the door suddenly opened and a woman with dark hair stepped into the room.

"What the hell is going on?" The woman asked her colleagues, looking disappointed and quite angry. "Everyone can hear you outside."

"Oh, Miss Moore," one of the officers murmured like a guilty child. "Well, we..."

"Detective Moore to you, Rogers," she replied, her posture radiating confidence. You and I both stared at her for a while, I noticed her tanned skin and thick curly hair, she was definitely Hispanic, the accent was also quite noticeable. "Can I confide in you at least once?" Officer Rogers looked at his partner, neither of them said a word, and that made the detective even more annoyed. "We'll talk about it later, now go."

The cops didn't dare protest, and soon they left. Now it was just you, me and Detective Moore in the interrogation room. The tension was palpable in the air, my hands were sweaty and shaking, I had to brush them off my open coat, but before I could, you caught one of them and squeezed it barely sensibly—I gasped, almost choking on my saliva.

After a brief examination of the documents, the woman across from us raised her brown eyes and smiled, not too friendly, but not too menacing either. "So, my name is Andrea Moore," she turned to look at you, holding a piece of paper in her hand. "I already know your name," her piercing gaze finally stopped on me. "May I have your documents, sir?"

Swallowing hard, I unlocked my briefcase to hand her my ID. "Yeah, sure."

"Mr. Bateman...have we met before?"

"No...I don't think so."

Andrea hummed to herself. "Well, I hope you brought your law license with you?" 

Your grip on my palm tightened, I almost let out a hysterical squeal. "I... I must have left it in my office."

"Listen," you suddenly spoke up, gesticulating as if you were at a school presentation. "I need to call my assistant, Vincent Eisenhower...he will help sort things out-"

"Wait a minute...did you say Vincent Eisenhower?" Andrea suddenly stopped you, obviously surprised.

"Uh, yeah, he's my assistant at the company I work-" 

"...in Chicago?" 

"Yes..." you replied in confusion. "Is there something wrong with that?"

The detective didn't answer, and it made me nervous as hell, but you holding my hand in a gentle manner was strangely comforting, even though I despised such displays of affection.

Looking puzzled, Andrea finally took the pen and a clean piece of paper. "Can you give me the number...I'll call Mr. Eisenhower and ask him for...a real lawyer. Mr. Bateman, I hope you understand the consequences of your actions-"

"Leave him alone, it's not his fault," you cut Andrea off before I could say anything in my defense. "He didn't know what he was doing coming here...please...he hasn't done anything bad...he's just going through a hard time in his life and..."

"Enough," the detective raised her hand in a halting gesture. "I hope I can reach out to Mr. Eisenhower....You two better pray for that."

Andrea left as abruptly as she had come. We were finally alone. Both confused, frightened, and lost.

"Why did you even come here?" You asked, not looking at me, but not parting our hands. "How stupid of you to come here and act like you were my lawyer."

"I HAD NO CHOICE!" I almost screamed, turning in my seat to cut the mere distance between us. "Not after you terrorized me with those damn phone calls..."

As I said that, time stood still for us and I could see the inner conflict in your deep, mesmerizing eyes—you were broken and lost just like me—I looked down at our intertwined hands, waiting for your answer.

"What calls, Patrick? What are you talking about?" 

"You know WHAT I'm talking about...don't try to fuck with my brain," I husked, inches from your lips. "You think this is funny, huh?" 

"And you think it's funny to call my office and tell my assistant about your suicidal intentions?" Your warm breath wafted pleasantly around my face as you moved closer. "You think it's funny to appear and disappear in my life like I'm a toy you can play with whenever you feel bored?"

At first I didn't answer. Instead, I just kept eye contact with you, then I lowered my eyes to our hands again—my palm was bigger than yours, this little detail always made my heart flutter. Did I ever think that such a small thing would stir such strong emotions in me? Probably not.

Definitely not.

"By the way, did you manage to find out anything about that machine you told me about?" I questioned abruptly, putting my arm around your shoulders. 

You frowned and chuckled in disbelief. Well, at least the tension was relieved.

"What machine?" You fidgeted in your seat as I pulled you closer. "Hey, don't change the subject..."

"A memory reboot machine," I crooned, leaning forward so our noses rubbed against each other. "If you're here... that means you probably didn't find it."

The urge to indulge in this moment, to follow the passionate momentum and just kiss these lips I'd been thinking about all along, was unbearable, but I didn't want to be the first to fall apart and drop my defenses.

"Maybe I never needed this machine," you replied, pressing your forehead against mine for a brief moment. "Because I never wanted to forget...you?"

Was it a question or a statement—we never knew as we both moved towards each other, my burning lips pressed against your soft ones as we shared the most desirable kiss I could ever imagine. Gasping into my mouth, you let go of my hand only to wrap both of them around my neck as you responded with no less favor than mine. It was so hot, so desperate, so tragic. And it was all mine— your pain, your anger, your hatred.

Because you were my salvation.

With precise deftness, I carefully tilted your head back a little to deepen the kiss, my arms eagerly but not persistently roving around your back, knowing every little detail of your body, every dent and bump. As much as I wanted to tell you how fucking perfect you were for me, I didn't want this kiss to end, but as if you could read my mind, you suddenly pulled me away a little too abruptly and roughly.

"God, I hate you..." you wept, covering your face so I couldn't see your tears. "I really... I really thought you were going to do something bad... I was afraid it was too late..."

I was at a loss, I didn't know how to react or what to say—everything about you confused me, made my brain overload with different thoughts about what you said and why—now was no exception.

"But I'm here now...in one piece," I decided not to touch you, my hand resting on the back of your chair, ready to hug you at any moment if it was needed. "You should understand that...if I really wanted to do this, no one would be able to stop me..." I whisper above your ear and place my hand on the back of your head, gently stroking your hair as you rest your head on the table. "Even you."

I knew that this confession would mean nothing, just like all my previous ones, but as soon as I said it, you raised your tear-stained eyes and whimpered. "Don't say that...don't fucking say that! You can be a total asshole, but that doesn't mean you deserve to die..."

"Darling," I gently brushed your stray locks from your face, trying to distract you and keep you from saying words that would only make things worse. "You know so little about me...but I don't want you to say something you'll regret..."

"I've already said too many things that I now regret," you replied, turning away from me. "Have you ever thought about your family and how they would react if something bad happened to you? Have you thought about Evelyn?"

My eyebrows knitted together, the words you said pierced my heart like sharp daggers, but I didn't want you to stop, because you were right, I was always selfish, but you knew so little about my family, who would surely be sad about the loss, but they would recover pretty quickly, since they still had Sean. And Evelyn? I would laugh if things were not so sad.

Trembling and sobbing, you still sat with your back to my face. "I'm not going to ask you for anything except to promise me that you'll never even think about...hurting yourself."

Oh, dear.

With a soft clink of my chair, I stood up and placed both of my hands on your trembling shoulders. "I promise... if you stay with me, I'll never look back... on my previous life." I felt your body tense under my touch. "We can't reboot the memory, but we can...reboot our lives?"

This was it—the moment I had fantasized about so many times, considering different outcomes, scenarios—I was waiting for your answer when the door creaked and Detective Moore appeared in my vision. She was much more cheerful than before, which worried me a bit.

"So," she took a seat, opened a folder with documents and wrote something on it. "I spoke to Vince, and luckily for you, he has already contacted your lawyer-"

"Vince?" You asked in shock, but at least you stopped crying.

Andrea stuttered and cleared her throat. "I mean..." she paused and twirled the pen in her hand. "It happened that Vincent and I used to know each other..."

What?

We were both speechless, how the hell could such a coincidence have happened? 

"Well... I really didn't see it coming..." You murmured, brushing the remnants of tears from your face.

"Neither did I," the detective chuckled curtly before resuming her work on some papers. "Listen, we should wait for the results of the fingerprint analysis, and while we wait, you are forbidden to leave the city. Please put your sign here."

"What is this?"

"Your ticket to freedom," she explained. "A street bail."

I saw you hesitate, so I gave you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and you looked at me, I simply nodded, and you placed the sign. 

"And how long have you known Vincent?" You asked after you handed the document back to Andrea. "Just asking."

"Since childhood, I think."

"Oh... that's... a lot."

"Vince has always been known for being a good boy..." the woman paused, coughing awkwardly. "Uh, you can talk to him about... that if you're interested." Andrea closed the folder and shifted her gaze to me. "And you, I highly recommend that you never do anything like this again."

"So you're not going to put me in a cell?" I replied in a slightly teasing manner.

"No...not this time. But the officer who allowed you to come here will be severely punished, maybe even fired," Andrea explained, getting up from her chair. "It's her first day at the police station, but she let a man go through without even checking his papers. Such violations are very serious."

And although I didn't feel sad for this woman I would probably never see again, I looked at you and your big doe eyes. "Maybe there's a way not to fire her? I assured her that I was a lawyer and...I could pay a fine if I had to."

Detective Moore said nothing, she just grinned and beckoned us to follow her.

An hour later we finally left the police station. For some time we walked in complete silence, the surrounding commotion drawing out my shallow breathing, my mind overclocked with the search for topics to talk about after all the shit that had happened.

"So... where did you stay?" I asked casually, looking at you from above, your eyelashes shimmering in the sunlight. "In the Plaza?"

"No," you replied almost immediately. "Not the Plaza this time...it was all booked up."

"You were really in New York... for the whole time?"

"Depends on what time you mean exactly," your slight smile made me almost stumble, but I pretended to see someone familiar. "Maybe I haven't left New York at all?"

No, that can't be.

"You know, since you can't leave the city... maybe we should spend some time together and... you didn't answer my question."

My offer made you stall, and I followed suit. Passers-by walked past us, not paying attention even though we were standing in the middle of the street.

"Was it really a question?"

"And what do you think it was?"

"A plea?" You smiled and stepped closer to me until there was no space between us. "If you weren't so stubborn...everything could be so much easier."

"And YOU tell me that?" I let myself pull you closer to me. "I have an idea...fuck the place where you stopped! We should go to Newport."

"Newport? Would it count that I left New York?" you asked me a little shyly. "Do you have a house there or...?"

"My family has a house there and since they are out of town we can use it to kill time...have you ever been to Newport?" My hands rested possessively on your waist and before I knew it, I added. "Me and Evelyn are getting divorced..."

"No, I haven't," you replied, finally resting your hands on my shoulders. "But I really want to...since I've heard a lot of good things about this place..." then you suddenly froze. "What... What did you say? Are you kidding me? God, I can't believe this...I..."

You continued to bubble something that made me smile in amusement and I couldn't help but hold you tightly in my arms— the place you always belonged to, though I understood it too late. The fresh breeze of change swirled around us, playing with our hair and clothes. Yesterday I didn't know if I would make it to tomorrow, but today I was sure that there would be so many tomorrows because I wasn't alone anymore.

With you, for you, in your name—I was still alive and finally free.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my writing community to know when I update!💞

[twost3ps]

*Au idea:Dreaded king Adam*

The council of heaven(or God) had to promise Adam to Lucifer(kind of like the Persephone story). The harem hates this idea but it’s no use.

Also just imagine their reaction to Adam coming into a meeting with a baby Charlie(she was made by magic by Lucifer to make Adam happy).

That to me can be either sad or funny because it can go one of two ways

An angsty route where the harem only gets to see Adam in the meetings and either romantically or not, miss each other’s company. Even if Adam does come to love Lucifer at some point or does willingly go down and feels content in hell ofc he’s going to miss the people he used to hang out with. Those meetings have a a great underlying vibe of longing that no amount to treasure can mediate

not my thing so there’s also the crack funny route where the harem would def be distraught before they're like :

"You know what imma sneak down there idgaf"

One of them was def crying for a bit before the decision is made (it's Mike and Jophiel)

Idk whether or not you're envisioning that Adam is together with them before the engagement or just likes them platonically tho but assuming he is romantic again I do find it funny if they sneak into lucifers castle with his help and they hang around until lucifer catches on (I mean Adam doesn't have be with them to just wanna hang out with his old buddies. It does get lonely in that castle lol. And what is hell to do againt what is basically a group of unstoppable forces)

They're all hanging out in the master bedroom till lucifer busts in shocked to see them all there

Lucifer: Wh- WHAT ARE YOU GUYS DOING HERE!?

Gabriel: Catching up with our boyfriend, duh. What do you want?

Lucifer: for you all to leave???

Uriel: mmnnnn.... naaaah..

Raphael: yeah we really miss our boyfriend so if you don't wanna be here could you just...? *he kinda just shoos lucifer*

Lucifer looks all pissed off: If you don't remember, IM the one who lives here and IM the one married to him.

Hes showing off his ring but there's a united scoff from the harem

Azrael: no offense but since when did you respect the sanctity of marriage?

This leads to this large fight, tho since lucys outnumbered, so he's not winning here. Thankfully, adam is there to calm them down. Adam argues that while yes hes married to lucifer, it wasnt fair to be pulled away from the people he cares about so no, hes still going to see his harem (whether romantic or not is up to you. He can just like being around them as friends while still loving lucifer or at least growing to love him)

So lucifer gets at least one archangel or virtue visiting every day. This oddly gets the siblings closer to lucifer again. They sometimes hang out with Lucifer as well or just him for old times sake

They could even have their own rooms there too. It would be kinda nice to see and bond with his family again. Maybe Lucifer opens the marriage idk tho

When they see Charlie for the first time, they're shocked and a bit jealous. Gabe def wanted kids with Adam lol. They're actually pretty good with her all things concerned, but they do dress her up and act like she's their own. Since she's made of magic and young, I do think they have some moderate influence on her appearance. Like she's still forming in a way. So when they first get their hands on her, they change the color of her cheek marks to their responding colors. It's like that scene in sleeping beauty with the faries and the dress, but imagine the rainbow instead and whats changing is charlies cheeks and hair color. Adam does get huffy about it tho and they all reluctantly turn her back to red cheeked and blonde

Ngl in the early stages they were trying to be another parent to her as a sort of get back at Lucifer for 'stealing' Adam, trying to get her favor whenever they visit or have meetings. But they chill out over time. Doesn't mean they don't get a bit smug is charlie seems to prefer going to them for some things.

The only really dreaded thing is, for the harem at that point, is not being always able to barge in

This was probably supposed to be more angst or something my bad lol

[espinosaurusrexex]

Flooded

SteveRogers x Female!Reader

summary: There was something off in the air that morning - Y/N should have known. But bad things always happen when you least expect them. The life she was living was threatened by the one secret she hoped would never be revealed. And now that it had, there was no going back.

a/n: Welcome to heartbreak city! This is dedicated to my 2015 teen wolf obsession (make sure to tell me when you find the passage). I know it's sad and angsty; but I put a bunch of fluff in there too. I hope you enjoy - as always, feedback is appreciated!

word count: 5.5k

warnings: torture, trauma, drowning, experimenting on people (in flashbacks), mentions of abuse, mentions of dying, angst (in case that wasn't clear), swearing, idiots in love, fluff, and a happy ending :)

I don't think the bad parts are super descriptive, but please do not read if anything mentioned in the warnings makes you uncomfortable (18+ only!).

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ

This just captures the vibe too well. You'll know the passage... i'll never fall in love with myself - Zeph

It’s normal to feel your heart in your head right? Like it’s pounding so hard that it literally makes your veins jump beneath your skin? There was a rush of adrenaline shooting through Y/N‘s Body. Pain sharp as lightning zickzacking its way down her spine and up again. Her lungs felt tight. Solid. As if they were of stone weighing her down and not giving in to her urge to breathe. It felt like that. And the look at the rusted metal door with the white number ’15’ brought back an awful lot of pain. Blue and green splashing their way through her brain, voices layering over one another, and a distinct smell of chemicals in her nose. Oh no. She was back there. Right now. How was that possible? How did it get that far? Were there not a bunch of people making sure that this would never happen to her again? A shiver overtook her but at the same time, sweat assembled on her skin. The room was wet and moldy and sterile all at once. No. No. No. She escaped, she was safe - fought her way through hell to get there. There was no way this was really happening.

Dull voices broke through to her. “We’re at 12 Minutes”. “180, going down”. Beeping of sorts and then - somehow, through all the water and noise, the unremarkable sound of pen on paper. What an odd thing to remember, right? But Y/N recalled thinking ‘what an odd thing to hear’ back then. Not now, though. Now it was… normal. But that day it wasn’t. It was in fact the very first time it had ever happened and the moment everyone had seemed to work towards. Even if Y/N didn’t know it back then, she was the breakthrough Hydra needed to create yet another group of human weapons. One that luckily never saw the light of day.

They didn’t know. And it should stay that way. Y/N didn’t want to be associated with Hydra anymore. She never did. She wanted to be herself when she joined the Avengers. A woman with power and endurance and, well, certain enhanced abilities. There was one person that knew how she got them, and that person was Nick Fury. But he had promised to keep his mouth shut. Y/N held onto that promise because it kept her from losing her mind - reminded her that she became who she was without their help. She had escaped, and fought, and grieved, and wept in order to get over that old self. And yet, despite all the hard work, she was in that old skin again.

It shouldn’t be possible though. She had put a recognizable amount of time into burying every piece of evidence of her past life - Her dumb anxiety included. But here it was: dark and strong and the thing that would ruin everything, every piece of harmony she had associated with its absence. 

Y/N was frozen to the ground, the image of the door branding itself into her mind and leaving a burning hole in its wake that made her head feel blank. Because that’s how it had always been: at first there is so much going on in your head that it feels like exploding and then, all of a sudden, it's wiped off everything. And all you are left with is this shell of a body that is not responsive to anything.

She didn’t know how long she had been standing in that hallway. A minute? Maybe an hour? Time moves differently when you’re not really there. But after whatever amount of time had passed, another voice rang through to her. A deep, and reasoning one, pressing and dripping of worry, though. Y/N shook her head. Steve. Steve was here.

❁ ❁ ❁

“I can’t have my team zoning out on missions.” The impatient voice echoed through the room accommodated by an expensive pair of shoes clicking on the polished floor. “We’ve had the problem before and I don’t like being lied to. Tell me what’s going on or she’s off.” Toni was pacing the floor of the common room until he came to a stop in front of Fury with his hands resting on his hips impatiently. But the man dressed in black didn’t do so much as move a muscle. He was casually lounging on the cushioned chair, waiting for his employee to finish.

“This might not feel like a big problem to you, Nick, but wait until half the Avengers are wiped out because Will Byers over here risks their lives by not cooperating.” Fury’s eye twitched when it lifted to the woman tugged into the corner. She had already been staring at him, trying to drag out the unavoidable, but there was no stopping this. She knew that, and he knew that too. 

“I can’t.” He said while still staring at Y/N. Nick would have done everything to prevent this very moment from happening, he had kept his promise for years. But this - this was the signal for her to know: ‘It’s on you now. You make the call.’

Y/N stared down at her hands that were nervously fumbling in her lap. Though from a distance it might have looked like she was disinterestedly avoiding everyone's eyes on her. Because they were - especially a specific pair of blue ones. Every single person in the room was expecting her to say something. Even more so the man whose worried expression hadn’t faded ever since he had dragged her out of that base hours ago. And even now - away from harm and safely huddled in the confines of the compound, his unrelenting stare was drenched in fear and urgency. Y/N didn't even have to look up to confirm her suspicions. Steve had not moved ever since she sat down in that chair, his arms crossed, shoulders hunched, and eyebrow furrowed as his gaze locked on her. He probably tried to find something - a twitch of a brow or the corner of her mouth - something to tell him that she was okay. But Y/N fought with everything she had not to give him that - because she was in fact not okay. She was far from it, and the storm of emotions rioting through her stomach did very well prove it as nausea crept up her throat.

She was about to reveal the very thing she had kept hidden for years - something she never thought would get dug up again. But here she was: moments away from having every assumption about her changed for the worse. And Y/N hated it. She hated that this would be defining who she was from now on. Because it always did. It happened with Bucky and it happened with Wanda, hell even Steve didn’t get away without being associated with Hydra. Even if his story bore a different relationship to the World War II organization. 

Y/N didn’t want to tell them, but deep down she knew that she would. Because what were her other options? Leaving the Avengers and drowning in sorrow over the lost family she had gained not too many years ago? God, that sounded like the villain origin story. No, she had to come clean, even if it hurt her and her status and possibly every other person surrounding her right now.

A wave of heat overtook her body, but her hands were cold. There was no going back - Y/N owed it to the team. Tony had every right to know what had put his people in danger today, but that didn’t change the fact that it would hurt nonetheless. Because she would be brought back there in her mind. And when she slowly inhaled to talk again, she tried to remember what it felt like to be free, even if the rushing of water already flooded her ears.

“You know when you’re drowning you don’t actually inhale until right before you black out.” Y/N was still staring at her fingers, desperately holding onto something she could feel. She was nervous to say the least, even if she knew exactly what her next words were going to be. 

“It’s called voluntary apnea.” She had known it for years, starting with picking up pieces of conversation in the labs and ending with a reality-shattering file search that settled the gravity of what had actually happened to her. Y/N closed her eyes as she remembered that day, trying to hold the hot tears pooling in her eyes at bay. 

“It’s like no matter how much you’re freaking out, the instinct to not let any water in is so strong that you won’t open your mouth until you feel like your head’s exploding.” We’re at 12 minutes. 180, going down. Just fucking breathe. “Then when you finally do let it in, that’s when it stops hurting.” Her voice was shaky now but she was determined to pull through. Though her head was still hanging low - almost ashamed at what she was going to say next. “It’s not scary anymore, it’s… it’s actually kind of peaceful.” She shrugged weakly. “At least that’s what I told myself.” 

She paused then, mentally preparing for the next part was impossible, but for some reason, she still couldn’t get it over with. This was it. This was the moment she was going to change in their eyes. The moment she would turn into a charity case that deserved nothing but sad looks and encouraging shoulder taps. And the thought of that made the lump in her throat grow. One last shaky breath and then she finally looked up, eyes locking with that of a blonde Super Soldier whose posture had faltered drastically since she last looked at him. A grey and brooding shadow had overtaken his cerulean orbs and it was shaking with the plead that settled in between: ‘Please tell me that’s not true.’ 

The first tear found its way down Y/N’s cheek, goosebumps rippling through her but her next words were said steadier than ever before. “I drowned in that room. One hundred and eighty-six times.”

And there it was: pity. Thick and unmistakable - smeared all over their faces. Y/N didn’t want it - dismissed it like a hot plate, pushing it further and further away from her on the table until she, herself, was backed up against the wall. They should stop pitying her. Try to feel what she felt but that proved itself difficult. Because Y/N didn’t feel anything. She’d expected to hear the voices in her head shouting numbers or smell the sterile smell of sanitizer or be unable to move - anything. But her mind was blank. It had all stopped buzzing as soon as she had stopped talking. With that last syllable, all the flashbacks faded into darkness and all that was left was this huge empty space. And she reveled in the calmness in her head for a second, but then Steve stepped forward with a heartbreaking look on his face and when he said her name and reached out his hand, that’s when her pulse picked up.

Y/N couldn’t do this - not from Steve, who was the only person whose opinion really mattered to her. Those dreadful eyes bored into hers when she sprung up from the chair, legs screeching over the dark floor, and then, she bolted. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve watched as Y/N ran out of the common room, a blank stare covering his features while his heart grew heavy with every step she took from him. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?!” Tony screamed.

“She didn’t want you to know.” Fury answered, and his voice hosted a sense of sadness.

Y/N. A Hydra experiment. And Steve hadn't known. He would have never known had they not happened to raid the base she had been kept at. It killed Steve to know that he could have prevented today from happening. He could’ve told Fury what a bad idea it was had he just known. But he didn’t. Somehow it unsettled him that Y/n chose not to tell him. It was traumatic and painful but did she really think that he would judge her for it? He of all people. No, he would never.

A look at Bucky rattled another zap of pain through his bones. His friend had this distinct mystery etched on his face. And when Steve shot him a questioning glare, Bucky jerked his head to the side, signaling for the blonde to follow him. 

Bucky’s shoulders were stiff when Steve watched them leading the way to a private lounge area and the spring in his step slightly faltered. 

When he had woken up that morning, Steve would have never guessed that the day would bring such dramatics. It was a simple mission - one he had done several times, too. And yet it could have not gone worse than today. Steve couldn’t let his emotions get the better of him, he knew that. His position as Captain didn’t allow him to let them lead his choices. But right now, with Bucky visibly agitated and Y/N clearly upset as well, that duty seemed near impossible. He cared too much for both of those people. 

Bucky stopped by the window, his gaze focused outside where the rain pattered aggressively against the concrete. He swallowed thickly before his head turned to his best friend.

“I think I remember her, Steve... I remember seeing her in the base.” Bucky finally confessed, though there was a distance in his words. And despite the information doing fairly little to calm Steve’s nerves, he was glad that his friend condoned in him. 

“You do?” A hopeful wave of emotions washed him over, suggesting that he might get a little more information about Y/N’s situation. And that maybe... he had been looking out for her back then. Yes, Bucky was most certainly sedated by hydra at that time, but the Winter Soldier had proven time and time again that he was not completely clouding Bucky and his sense for the good.

“I was there. I was-“ Bucky stopped as if he had suddenly said too much. A dreadful look overtook his eyes before his jaw wired shut and Steve’s hopeful feelings vanished.

“What? What is it?” He pressed, but his friend remained silent. 

Panic rose in his chest with every second filling the quiet and Steve couldn’t help but feel like the words Bucky had withheld from him drew far heavier consequences than he had anticipated.

“I - I can’t tell you that, Steve. I think you should talk to her.” 

Why did everyone decide they had to hide things from him today? What could have possibly been so bad? 

“Anything else I should know?” Steve asked stiffly, a slight coldness overtaking his mind.

Bucky shook his head with what looked like guilt. Nonetheless, after a frustrated huff, Steve thanked Bucky and made his way to the dormitories.

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed before his chest and a worrisome look pressing on his features. But Y/N just stared blankly ahead, ignoring the boring stare from the hallway. She didn’t want him to be here. Because he was - and that Y/N was 100 percent certain of - here to tell her things she didn’t want to hear. 

Their relationship had just recently reached the brooding edges of the pot. So close to overflowing into uncharted territory for the both of them. But for once in her life, Y/N had been excited about where it spilled. She wanted to feel the burning hot sensation on her skin and be dragged down into its endless abyss of warm feelings and excitement. But the information she had just dropped had taken the pot from the flame. She knew it the moment her eyes met Steve’s. They were dull, and lifeless, and sad. He had probably registered how much work she would be - would not see her as equal anymore. More of a menace than someone he could actually enjoy life with. And it broke her heart.

To say the least, there were far more parts of hers broken than her heart at this point. But Y/N didn’t know how to cope with them. For all her life, she had pushed it away. Brushed it off like it was nothing except a memory destined for her past, only allowed to creep to the surface when the dark corners of her mind leaked into the rational part of her. These times were not with people, especially not Steve - who was her captain and something more... up until now, that was.

Nonetheless, she needed a friend and Steve was the closest thing to that. Since more was probably not within her reach anytime soon, she decided to give into the nagging urge to spill every feeling on the floor before her. She looked up at him when he walked into the room and that’s when a dam of tears broke. She was ready to lay it all out bare for him. She had to, because for some reason - from one second to the other - all the things she had kept hidden for the past years felt unbearable to hold in. They seeped through her eyes in form of salty water and leaked through her nose and eventually built a big fat lump in her throat, one that was not possible to swallow. She had to get it out, along with all the other things hiding beneath.

Steve laid a warm hand on her trembling shoulder. A soft stroke pushed the last bit of reluctance from her body and prepared her to make it all go away. He was so close, but for some reason, she felt further away from him than ever before.

“You know I never stopped counting,” she whispered through ragged breaths. The nights in the dark cell encased her like a fog. Cold and moldy smells and the sound of dripping water echoed through her skull with every word she revealed to Steve. 

“I thought I would lose track at one point - maybe die,” she huffed, bitterness seeping through her tone, “but they pulled me back from the dead so many times… sometimes I feel like I got stuck somewhere in between.” Not really living - not really there. But she wouldn’t say that out loud. Not again, at least. She did it once - to the Winter Soldier, when she had thought to see a glimpse of humanity seeping thought the tough exterior. But it didn’t change a thing then too.

The movement of Steve’s hand stopped but he caught himself after a beat. He probably knew what she was thinking. And he probably also thought that dying was the cowardly way out of her situation, which was why a wave of shame came over her. 

“You know what’s funny? I’ve tried so hard to keep this a secret in order to have people like the real me and now... I feel like the only way I have any chance with the people I love is by giving this all away.” And it was true. Y/N felt like the last thing keeping her connected to Steve and the others was her cooperating and coming clean. She would be the prettied avenger, the one they always felt like they had to look out for - and she hated that because, really, the last thing Y/N wanted was to be babied - but if it was the last chance of keeping even a piece of them within her reach, she would have no choice but to take the deal. She would never be seen as an equal again. Always the inferior that never got over her trauma but if it meant staying with her family, she would be just that. Even if it was not even half of what she had made herself to be.

Steve’s eyes softened but at the same time, they filled with worry. His shoulders looked like they urged him to speak but his mouth closed as soon as it opened. And the last shimmer of hope vanished from Y/N’s consciousness. She wasn’t ready to let him go into pure friendship again, not when they had been dancing around the edge of something more for so long now. And she realized that now. So much, in fact, that she decided it would be better to just shut the whole thing off before the situation played out the way it was doomed to. Maybe that way she had a little more time to dwell in her fantasies. 

With that thought in mind, she licked up the last pieces of pride she had and patted her hand on Steve’s knee.

“Don’t worry about it, Captain. Thank you for checking in but I’m okay.” She said steadily, though she couldn’t help but notice the slump in the man’s shoulders beside her when she led him to the door.

❁ ❁ ❁

Captain, she had called him Captain. Steve exhaled on his way to his room. For some reason, he was devastated by that even more than the events that had taken place just half an hour prior. She didn’t trust him. She never trusted him enough, for that matter, to tell him about her past. A past he very well shared and understood better than any other person on the team - well, except Bucky... and Wanda.

He had wanted to tell her that she was okay now. That she should not let her past define her. That he would never in a million years even consider neglecting her because of it. But he couldn’t. For some reason, he had been still beside her like a stupid puppet. 

Tears brimmed in his eyes when he defeatedly sunk onto his bed. He wanted to stay rational. He wanted to think it through before burning up into flames, but his heart was pounding like a sledgehammer and his brain was running a mile a minute in opposite directions. There was no possibility to think straight. 

His body felt torn between the two most powerful organs within him and they were fighting like there was no tomorrow. He wanted to punch the wall and lay the softest kiss on Y/N’s lips at the same time. It was infuriating. 

For the first time in a long time, Steve had no idea what to do, or how to behave. There were no rules in the territory he and Y/N had created for themselves. There were times when he could come up behind her and press her into his chest and others when he wouldn’t even dare look at her. Right now, neither of these were an option, unfortunately. 

Of course, deep down Steve knew that he had to talk to her again. Make sure she knew where their differences lay and clearly state what he had been thinking about the whole situation. But his heart was screaming so loud into his head that that thought never reached his ears. 

It was strange, Steve was never the one to lose control over his emotions like this. But this situation felt as though it deserved every last drop of the feelings he had to offer. It was because of Y/N, of course. She tumbled up his feelings every time she looked at him. And to say that the look she had given him in the meeting room had shattered all his perceptions regarding her and her wellbeing was an understatement. He had been worried about her before. But never like this. Never in a way that had both his and her identity questioned. 

For some reason, he could deal with death threats and vital injuries - it was sadly a normal routine in his line of work - but the added emotions that came with everything concerning Y/N ordered a whole new level of consciousness to his duties. He no longer felt the need to care for his team and make sure they got out of and through missions unharmed because it was his job, he now had to care for them because his heart was involved if anything were to happen to any of them. And he had to care more about himself, too because there were people who would get hurt if he were to. Y/N did that - she had sucked him into her warm and welcoming self and Steve had embraced it with all his being.

Now, he saw how dangerous that was. But he wouldn’t have it any other way. Getting closer to her was the best thing that had happened to Steve in a long time. He was happier and more energetic.

It dawned on him, then, that he had to tell her that. No matter how rage fed his brain or love blinded his heart was in the moment. Y/N deserved to know. Much like he had deserved to know about her secret much sooner. This thought sent another wave of frustration through his body. Steve tried to push it away, but it lay heavy on his heart when he stepped into the hallway, trying to suppress the nervousness brooding up within him.

❁ ❁ ❁

Y/N twitched up when the door slammed into the wall. When it bounced back from the gray concrete, there was a sizable hole visible where it jammed. But as her ears picked up on something else, that’s when her eyes wandered past the door to the heaving man within its frame. Steve’s eyes were dull, his shoulders hunched but his heart was beating at a rapid speed. He must’ve heard it in his head from the pressure with which it traveled over to Y/N. 

Thumb, Thumb.

Steady and yet rapidly pounding. And for some odd reason, it had a soothing aspect on the woman. But before Y/N could register and ask what was going on, Steve stepped into the room. He was hesitant but still carried himself with a familiar confidence she’d only ever seen from him.

“I’m sorry,” he straightened up, “...for the door, I- I dint think it would open that easily.”

“It’s okay.” Y/N was still seated on her bed - hadn’t moved a muscle since Steve left.

“Y/N...” His voice was heavy with sadness, though she didn’t dare look at him. There was no going back. He would be saying what she had been dreading from the second she confessed. She didn’t also need to watch the disappointment in his eyes when he told her that itwas over - whatever it was. “I know what happened to you can’t be changed.” He sat down beside her, though there was a significant distance between the two Avengers now. “And I can only imagine how hard today has been for you. I don’t think I would be as strong as you are keeping this for yourself for so long. But you don’t have to shut us out. Please don’t shut me out, Y/N. We can help you, we can be there for you. Just... please. I don’t know how to-” he inhaled deeply but his speech didn’t continue like she had expected it to.

Y/N just sat there, her fingernails suddenly the most interesting thing to ever exist, even though there was a distressed man sitting inches away from her. Whatever he had said, because frankly, the words had swayed by her like a breeze, sounded like heartbreak to her - for her. There was pretty clear that Steve didn’t see a future for them. And if Steve thought this - the person she had grown closest to over the years - she could only imagine what the rest of the team was thinking. 

Tears burned in Y/N’s eyes and when the first one fell in her lap, she closed her eyes in pain. “You pitied me..,” she whispered, the burning in her throat threatening to swallow her whole, “You felt bad for me... you of all people, you decided I need comforting.”

Steve sent a confused look at her once her eyes met his. He was looking through her gaze as if the answer to his questions lay beneath them.

“Of course I do.” He spoke calmly but irritated. Y/N shut her eyes again, trying to ignore the confirming string of pain wash over her. Somehow hearing him say it out loud was worse than she imagined.

“It shouldn’t even concern you, Steve. I’ve managed very well on my own over the past years. There is no reason for anyone to pity me-”

“Not pity,” he interrupted, “concern, yes. Pride, worry, fear... I feel all of those things for you. But not Pity.”

“But why.” The words were barely audible through the stream of tears that had broken loose by now. Y/N couldn’t possibly comprehend why Steve would say that. Because she didn’t see how Steve could see anything but her past from now on. She had struggled to do so herself at first. It had taken years to finally become herself again, even if that self bore a terrible secret for everyone else.

“Because I admire your strength. And I care about you.” His hand hovered over hers, but he didn't dare touch her just yet. “I care about you more than I probably should.” He closed his eyes and retracted his hand when he saw the dread in her eyes. “And I try to ignore it, I really do but then you come at me with that smile and with your wit, and I... I can’t stop my heart from racing.”

“I know I can hear it.” She was whispering again, feeling like an intruder for listening in on something as personal as his heartbeat.

Steve looked at her with an indescribable look on his face. “I hear yours, too, you know? But for some reason, it’s telling me other things than your eyes are.”

“What are my eyes telling you?”

Steve’s fingers grazed her chin, moving upward until his thumb stroked the skin on her cheek. “That you are afraid of something. That you are waiting for something bad to happen... but I don’t know what.” Y/N nodded in awe - somehow this man could read her better than she could herself, which was scary and comforting at the same time.

“And what is my heart telling you?” She took his hand and placed it upon her chest, where a steady rhythm pushed through her skin.

“The same thing I’ve been trying to say.” His heartbeat was steady and sure as well. It was fast, yes, but not in a bad way. There was an unfamiliar glimmer in his eyes when they softened upon her love-dazed face. Maybe her intrusive thoughts had blinded her after all...

“And what-”

Suddenly, his soft lips pressed to hers. A warm and tingling feeling traveled over Y/N’s body as her arms almost automatically reached up to his shoulders. Steve pulled her closer by her waist, deepening the kiss with the lean of his head. He was warm and he felt like the hug she had subconsciously craved ever since staring at that white number ’15’ in the base hours ago. All the tension drained from her like a waterfall. Steve pulled the fear from her body with every stroke of his tongue against hers. And for the first time in a while, Y/N felt as though everything had fallen into place. She was right where she belonged. The squeeze of Steve’s fingers reminded her of that.

When they pulled apart, breathless and floating, she tightened the grip on his collar.

“But- I thought...” Y/N breathed out shakily. Her forehead was firmly pressed against Steve’s and her lips were grazing his with every word she whispered, sending waves of shivers down her spine.

“What? That I’d sign you off as a charity case?” Steve locked his eyes on hers for the hundredth time. There was so much emotion in them. “I would never underestimate you. I know you are stronger than half the people on this team... well mentally that is.”

“Stop,” she chuckled before pressing her face into his chest. Steve kissed the top of her head as his hand began to soothingly stroke up and down her back, leaving a warm trail of comfort in its wake.

“I really like you, Y/N... and if you’d let me, I would like to take you out sometime.”

Y/N smiled. It seemed silly how worried she had been about his feelings now. Considering hers were just as strong for the man in her arms, there had not been a reason to believe it was different for him. Though the edges of self-consciousness nipped at her brain every now and then. Those were the monsters pushing intrusive thoughts into her heart - convincing her of things, for which there was no indignation. She would learn it with time - that her past didn’t define her. It did to some extent, but it would never become her entire identity. And until she could tell herself that alone, she would have Steve to help her remember.

“I would love to, Steve.”

Steve pulled back and held her by her shoulders before leaning in again. A content smile etched on his lips before they sealed to hers again, capturing her in another searing kiss.

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[piracytheorist]

Yet more adaptation thoughts!

This time Imma talk about the difference between manga and anime in the last scene of chapter/episode 1, in particular, Twilight's reaction to realizing he fell asleep in front of Anya.

The manga gives more comedic vibes. It's more exaggerated, mostly thanks to Anya's O.O face and the way Twilight's jolt dramatically throws her from the couch. Twilight is, as usual, over-the-top panicking, nearly hyperventilating from the shock of realizing he *checks notes* fell asleep in front of a five six-year-old kid. It's also a hard cut from the cute, big panel of Anya snuggling next to him. One panel he's fast asleep, in the next he's jolting away.

Frankly, it's on par with the entire story. Comedy is one of the main focuses; we're not meant to take everything 100% seriously all the time in it. And since it's at the end of the first chapter, it's like Endo establishing that this relationship between the uptight spy and the carefree child is promising, among other things, a lot of laughs for the audience.

Meanwhile, the anime took it more slowly and also, I feel, more seriously.

We see Twilight wake up and realize what state he's in. It takes him an actual second or so to go from "I fell asleep?" to "I FELL ASLEEP IN FRONT OF SOMEONE??!" It's not a hard cut from the previous snuggling shot, and it's not exaggerated. Anya stays lying on the couch, and so our focus is directed more onto Twilight's reaction.

He's not hyperventilating. He's still upset and shaken, but it's more to the point - a spy like him needs to be aware of his surroundings 24/7, ready to defend himself against an attack at any moment, and make sure to show as little vulnerability as possible even while asleep.

If anything, to an angst hoe like me, this change brings forth a few sad feelings. I cannot imagine the stress of not allowing yourself one single moment of vulnerability in front of anyone, not even a little kid. And Twilight's reaction in the anime makes me go all 👀👀 yes please show me how angsty your life is, I will enjoy the hell out of it thank you.

Yet, the anime takes the chance to sway the mood into comical once more, by playing the "Crisis of my home" track as Loid realizes that his troubles are so far from over, right before the episode ends.

This post isn't meant to compare and pit the two versions against each other. I think, as with most scenes from the story, both mediums use their strengths to the maximum to provide for a well-presented story with feeling and character. I just find it interesting to analyze in what way each version brings that out.

Also I don't read further in the manga than what the anime has already adapted, so please don't spoil me for later chapters.

[sordidmusings]

hey :) may i humbly request that you write something for kidd?

Sure thing sweet anon❣️ if you wouldn’t mind giving a little more info so I can make sure it’s something you’d like? What sex and gender would you like the reader to be? And nsfw or sfw?

Below I’ll give some ideas/headcanons I’ve had in case any peak your interest!

Tbh I’ve had alpha Kid stuck in my brain cuz I’m on a perpetual abo kick but I know that ain’t for everyone! First off, there’s this DELICIOUS edit I saw of him with big canines and the creator was right; he’s fucking LETHAL with them 😩 it comes to haunt me quite frequently because what the fUCK ITS TOO GOOD 😭fangs in general are just chefs kiss and they fit him perfectly. The animal I have him as in my hybrid au ain’t got fangs but Fuck It he’s gonna get them anyway I will play God for that

There’s a few ways you could play a violent, selfish, and imposing man like him as an alpha but I think these are my favorite angles for him:

Weak for reader from the start and he hates it. He doesn’t want anyone making him soft, making him worry. He didn’t want attachments other than his crew and definitely not any outside the platonic realm. They were messy and pathetic and a waste of his time. He didn’t owe you shit - how dare you come into his life and fuck everything up, leave with his attention, his thoughts, his desires? He tries to berate you, shrug you off, ignore you but all fail miserably the moment you’re actually in his presence. The best he can do is watch you against his will and try and be as neutral as possible when you approach or he seeks to be closer (also against his will). He tried to shove you away once but the moment he lays hands on you they unlearn their cruelty. Truly you are dangerous for him and he should keep you far far away.

Plays favorites with reader and doesn’t give a fuck about it. You are his enabled little accomplice, allowed to get whatever you want and get away with anything and everything. He loves when you throw your weight around - hell he loves when you throw his weight around, preening every time you threaten someone with how strong and vicious your alpha is. He’s barely sure how this whole thing came together, a blur of you asking for one thing, then more and more and more, and most especially more of him. He doesn’t give a fuck that he’s tightly wrapped around your finger, he’s just as proud that he’s yours as you are his and loves rubbing in everyone’s face that he’s snagged the best catch out there.

The other thing I’ve been thinking of is Kid being a negative(?) influence on a restrained and bottled up reader and getting them to let loose with things like their anger and learning to take what they want from others and from life. Much more serious and angsty in tone than the spoiled rotten partner headcanon lol more him badgering you into letting out your aggression and becoming a menace worthy of his crew, a menace he’d be proud to have as his partner.

I’ve also had these songs stuck in my head as songs that could work for x Kid for a while now and could do something with one of them! Tried to give some pop and some rock 🤷🏼‍♀️

Last one especially amuses me cuz (ignoring any suppositions of the original intent of the song) it reads well as Kid trying to convince himself he hates being around you and “I miss the comfort in being sad” meaning he misses the ‘negative’ feelings he gets around reader OR (to be closer to the original meaning) having feelings for reader is new territory and he’s much more comfortable in the charted territory of his violent and vicious emotions.

Sonic Youth and Nirvana additions partially because of a talk with @feral-artistry about the rock vibes of Kid and Killer! She’s just Right in her thoughts as always. Also check out her Kid art!! Reblogging it soon - writing down a few thoughts first 🤡

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hey I would like to request a good omens Crowley x reader angsty sad fic where they are pining over him but he loves aziraphale and they don’t want to interfere. Kind of Laufey’s song Let You Break My Heart Again vibes. Thx!!❤️

"Why couldn't I have what THEY had, [y/n]?! Maybe it's...it's all part of God's great ineffable plan! As if fallin' weren't enough...y'know? Why not allow him to walk outta my life and crawl back to the other angelss, too? Keep fuckin' me over, I suppose. This must be karma, I swear.."

"Crowley.." You began, only to stop as the demon on the other end of the line continued his drunken sorrowful ramblings.

He was still clearly hurting, and you were his only company left.

The only one who knew about him and Aziraphale and everything they've done together for the past 6,000 years.

You've been around for a thousand or so, not aligned with Heaven nor Hell, but living as a simple immortal being.

However, only very recently have you learned that they've in fact known each other since the very dawn of Creation.

So their history goes way back.

It's no secret that Crowley's been pining after the angel all these years, forced to pretend he hates him just because he was on the "opposite side".

But he was sick of doing all of that, and finally got the courage to tell him how he really felt. He begged him to stay, to stop taking sides, and to think about just them for once.

In the end, Aziraphale still chose the side that shunned him for conspiring with a demon, halting Armageddon, and hiding Gabriel on Earth...all because he was offered a higher position of power and couldn't so easily let go of Heaven.

Not as easily as Crowley could. He couldn't understand that, or why Gabriel and Beelzebub could go off together and they couldn't.

Now you were here, having to comfort the very same demon that you've fallen in love with yourself.

It felt like such a selfish desire, knowing that you haven't lived nearly as long as either of them. You weren't there at the beginning of Everything. You weren't there at the Garden of Eden.

You could never fully understand their deep-rooted bond.

There's no way he would ever see you in a remotely similar light.

Even still, the heart wants what it wants..even if it's unobtainable.

"Listen, Crowley.." You tried speaking again. "I'm next in line, do you want anything?"

Perhaps that was rather poorly worded, as you heard a sniffle and what sounded like him holding back a sob. "I just want him to come back.." His voice broke.

There was that feeling again, constricting your human heart with pain.

It was such a fickle organ, you often thought. It kept people alive, yet when put through emotional toil..it felt like it was killing them, and they wanted nothing more than to rip it out of their chest to be rid of the pain.

But right in this moment, you felt like that because deep down...you wish he instead said that he wanted-

"W-Wait..you're..at that café 'cross the bookshop, right?" You heard Crowley mumble. "I'll get the usual..assuming she remembers. Actually...don't bother-"

"It's fine, Crow. It'll be my treat. I'm getting something, too...not that we actually need it. But we both enjoy it, right?"

"...right." He chuckled depressingly. "Fine. I'll be outside."

That was a surprise, although when you briefly glanced outside the window of Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death, you noticed the Bentley parked next to the sidewalk. You sighed, hanging up the phone before you stepped up to the register, smiling at Nina.

"Hello, Nina. I'll have my usual..and Mr. Crowley's, too. Six espresso shots, was it? And one of those [favorite flavor] pies, pretty please." You pointed to the menu.

"On it." She nodded, already getting to work on your order. "You know, I haven't seen that chap around in a while. How's he holding up? I heard he took it pretty hard."

"Yeah." You muttered, recalling how you've talked to her about your own feelings for Crowley.

You weren't expecting a human to solve the relationship woes of immortal beings when she herself was going through her own issues.

She worried that her and Maggie's little "intervention" caused the demon and angel to split up, but you didn't blame her. And neither did Crowley, although he was torn between wishing he didn't kiss Aziraphale and wondering if he'd regret not doing that at all.

He hasn't been back at the coffee shop since.

"Well, do you plan to tell him anytime soon?"

You nearly choked on your own spit. "N-Nina...I..I can't just do that. He clearly doesn't see me that way. He talks about him every day and night. I've stayed up past midnight consoling him, letting him stay with me the moment I learned he's sleeping outta his car. But...it's him he loves, not me. And I can't interfere with that..it would be wrong."

"Then...what's your plan from here?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"..I'm not sure anymore. I guess hope that one day..I'll stop falling in love with him. Maybe his angel will come back and everything will be as it was."

"Sounds like wishful thinking at this point, but I'm sure things will work out. Maybe he'll move on."

"I doubt it, but time will tell."

"Right." After finishing the drinks, she set them down into a cupholder, before giving you the pie as well. You paid and bid her farewell before heading out of the café and to the Bentley.

Inside, you saw Crowley sulking, lost in thought until you knocked on the passenger's window. He sat up with a start, fixing his glasses when he realized it was you. "S-Sorry."

The door opened, and you slid inside, passing him the tall cup with tons of espresso shots. "It's okay. So..where did you wanna go today?"

"I was thinkin'..St. James Park. Feel like I've been neglecting the ducks for far too long."

You blinked. 'Wasn't that..his and Aziraphale's thing-?'

"Yeah, I know..it...was our thing." He responded as though he read your mind. "'s just..been so lonely without him to chatter to. I hate siting all alone on that bench. But it's not like I can just walk Upstairs and tell him to screw all of them, right?"

"Sadly..no." Shaking your head, you glanced over your shoulder at the plants he's shoved into his backseat. Closest to you was a venus fly trap that had spots and other flaws, looking rather frail and wilted and sad.

Not too different from how its owner felt.

You smiled sadly and stroked the top of its head with your thumb, feeling it cease its trembles. Its mouth closed as it seemed to...purr?

How cute.

"Well would ya look at that...ya even treat the bloody things the same as he did.."

You tensed, looking back to Crowley and frowning upon seeing the tears sliding down his cheeks. But he was quick to wipe them away once you noticed them, yet a sniffle still managed to escape him.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to keep doing stuff that reminds you of him.." You set a hand on his back. "Do you...want me to drive?"

"No, it's fine.." He shook his head, sniffling loudly one last time before he managed to pull himself together. "Let's just..go."

You nodded, taking a sip of your coffee and a small bite of your pie, before you reached for the radio-

However, you forgot that the Bentley was sentient, instead turning it on for you and playing a song that nearly made you choke once again.

"--All I've had is coffee and leftover pie. It's no wonder why. Ooooh, still you take up all my mind. I don't even think that you care like I do. I should stop, Heaven knows I've tried..."

Even Crowley froze as he listened to the lyrics.

And not because it wasn't a Queen song.

"One day, I will stop falling in love with you."

Neither of you spoke a word, instead staring at the dashboard with looks of sadness upon your faces. You thought he would've changed the song by now, but...when you looked over, you could see his glasses now resting on the bridge of his nose.

His golden irises have almost completely taken over the whites of his eyes.

What little you saw of them..

Were growing redder and glossier.

"Some day, someone will like me like I like you."

You felt your own eyes start to sting, too, so you looked away and opted to pet the venus fly trap that was nuzzling your hand, clearly asking for more much-needed affection.

Sentient plants were easy to comfort.

If only your demon friend could be the same way..

If only you could show him that you wished to be more than just friends..but this simply wasn't your place to tell him that.

Not here, not now...and possibly not ever. For as long as you lived on this mortal plane.

All you could hope was that one day, the feeling will pass.

If Aziraphale came back, things might be better. You wished the idiot would at least check in with you both once in a while so you knew he was alive.

If that's the last time you hear from him, well....you weren't sure if Crowley would ever want to try loving again after what he's suffered through. He poured his heart out, only for it to get broken and stomped on before being left all alone on Earth.

He couldn't go through that again.

And you didn't wanna say anything about how you felt for the centuries you've known him. He could very well perceive that as you trying to replace him and ruin this friendship.

The wounds in his heart are still clearly fresh..and they likely will be for a long, long time.

For now, you'll just be by his side and be mindful. Perhaps he'll eventually realize how you felt about him...but you doubt it.

"Until then, I'll drink my coffee, eat my pie. Pretend we are more than friends. Then of course, I'll let you break my heart again-"

Crowley's hand suddenly shot towards the button, the car filling with an abrupt silence as he shut off the music. Then he switched between several Queen songs, eyebrows furrowed as none of them seemed to suit his current mood.

If Queen didn't make him happy anymore...he was seriously in emotional distraught.

But eventually he settled for "Somebody to Love", and you smiled, wiping your eyes as you leaned back in the seat. "Good choice."

He nodded absentmindedly, before finally driving off to the park after adjusting his glasses.

No further words were exchanged. You didn't even scold him for speeding down the tightly-knitted roads of London. That's the last thing he needed right now.

Especially since you picked up that habit from Aziraphale.

But even as Freddie's voice reverberated through the Bentley, you two couldn't stop thinking about the lyrics of Laufey's song and what it meant to both of you.

Yet the people it reminded you of...were completely different.

[oxygen-stealer]

Scriddler fic recommendations!!!

Stay (2017) by iammemyself

Rating: General

49,873 words, 11/11 chapters (discontinued)

Arkhamverse

After Arkham Knight, Jonathan and Edward move to Canada together, where the full weight of Edward's grief crashes down on the both of them.

This fic is fucking miserable in the best way possible. It feels so grey and depressing like almost the entire time even with its ups and downs. Things get better, but it's fucking hard. Legit among my favorite fics. Also Jon's so obscenely old here I love it lmfao. (There's also a Stay (2016) I haven't actually looked at, might be a prequel or smthn idk)

I'm With You by nonbinaryspock

Rating: Mature

50,684 words, 35/35 chapters

Jonathan and Edward rekindle their somewhat messy relationship from their college years. Things are still a bit messy but they've at least got some hindsight.

Hella angsty, they're both so horribly dysfunctional <3 (specifically Jonathan will just say/think the absolute wildest shit and then just go on like that's normal). I really just love how visceral their emotions can be.

Runs In The Family by ChaoticMimzy

Rating: Mature

8,703 words, 5/5 chapters

Edward's father dies and he goes to his funeral (solely to be there for his sister, mind you) where he grapples with past trauma and catholic guilt.

Very very rogues podcast coded (highest compliment). It's mostly Edward-centric and doesn't focus on the scriddler too much but it's still worth a read. Edward's rage towards his childhood circumstances is so potent and agonizing I love it so much. He should get to kill god a little bit imo

(More below)

Let me play you a song on my violin by batmanforeverlol

Rating: Teen

7,206 words, 1/1 chapters

Ghost AU. Edward is a retired criminal turned private investigator who finds himself running through a cemetery, where he meets a man playing a violin.

Ngl I cried super hard reading this but it's also one of my absolute favorites. Why would you write this? Why would you hurt me in this way? (It's really sweet but also really fucking sad, you should read it. Share my pain)

Terminal by iammemyself, promethea (Aerosol)

Rating: General

7,073 words, 1/1 chapters

Edward gets brain cancer again, this time the Lazarus pits aren't gonna help him.

As you could imagine, this fic is just sad from start to finish. I cried so fucking much reading it its not even funny.

He Just Likes The Rush by Human_Resourccs

Rating: General

16,072 words, 9/9 chapters

Jonathan's thrill-seeking brings him some interesting company. (Or, as I know it: the fic where a fucking spider lives in Jonathan's hair for months and Edward still lets him touch him. If that's not love I don't know what is)

Sapiophile by XavIniesta685

Rating: Mature

17,529 words, 3/3 chapters

The Moon Is Not Made Of Cheese by Stry_Shttu

Jonathan has given up in every sense and is about to leave Gotham until a series of events change his mind. A lot of "falling in love within a day" fics can feel kinda forced but this one flows really naturally.

Rating: Teen

7,820 words, 1/1 chapters

Arkhamverse

Edward is lonely, Jonathan goes to see him while also being Jason Todd's really lame dad. A good mix of sweet and silly.

The Boy With The Thorn In His Side by 30PacketsofKetchup

Rating: Teen

21,542 words, 8/? chapters (this fic hasn't been updated in like 5 years so be ready for that specific brand of agony)

Teenager AU. Jonathan meets the mildly annoying new boy in town and they bond.

I looove this fic so much I'm absolutely heartbroken that it wasn't ever finished. Idk the vibes are nice and I love how flustered young Jon gets when he's got a crush.

South of Hell by nonbinaryspock

Rating: Teen

14,194 words, 35/35 chapters

Teenager AU. No one in their awful little town likes Edward or Jonathan, but they've at least got eachother. Very southern gothic.

Exit Wounds by nonbinaryspock

Rating: Teen

18,066 words, 38/38 chapters

Demon/supernatural AU. Edward is a private investor and his demon ex-boyfriend suddenly shows up after 5 years in need of a place to stay. Edward is thoroughly unimpressed.

I'm in love with this AU big time, it's got some pretty neat world building. I also love how distinctive the characterizations here are. BAH I'm not great at describing but it's very angsty and good.

Frighteningly Unprofessional by bookynerdgoblin

Rating: Mature

28,412 words, 11/11 chapters

One of Jonathan's students knows about his unethical experiments, however instead of reporting him, he offers to help in exchange for his partnership. Things spiral from there. Edward is purposefully being super obvious and Jonathan talks to his cat like a person.

Words by scarecrowv

Rating: General

4,651 words, 1/1 chapters

Edward's daughter keeps calling Jon "mama" and he has no idea how to handle it, aka psychology professor Dr Jonathan Crane talks to a 2 year old like an adult.

A Case Study in Step-Parenting by Ifthinkerwrites

Rating: General

16,053 words, 5/5 chapters

Another lil scriddler family fic, Jonathan navigates step-parenthood :)

Sitzfleisch by SproxGrail

Rating: Mature

1,205 words, 1/? chapters

Jonathan is living in Edward's walls and talks about him like a little freak. I need this fic to update again please please please it's so creepy I'm in love with it

Some series to look at as well!

Memoryverse by Enigmatic_Robin

Rating: General

15,393 words, 11 works

A bit more of a psychological horror/thriller than a romance. Jonathan is manipulating Edward into complete dependency. It seems easy while Edward is in love with him, but he'd better watch out for when that veil slips.

Scriddler Family AU by Enigmatic_Robin

Rating: General

17,722 words, 9 works

Scarecrow and Riddler end up raising Stephanie Brown and Tim Drake. And all the shenanigans that come with that.

Love Me Dead by lymongrab

Rating: Explicit

25,624 words, 6 works

Kinda just a nice progression in Jonathan and Edward's relationship with some added spice here and there. Mostly pretty sweet.

Arkhamverse by iammemyself

Rating: General

354,608 words, 28 works

In which Edward and Jonathan's relationship is a bit complicated, but Edward is also a robot dad!!

(Everything from here is nsfw centric)

This section would be longer but i actually found out the person who wrote some nsfw fics i really liked was actually a proshipper weirdo so I'm not including those. Why can't people be normal

Kiss The Go-Goat by korereapers

Rating: Explicit

5,203 words, 1/1 chapters

Demon AU. Edward summons a demon and gets a little carried away

Shout out to this fic for getting me into Ghost, the only band I ever listen to now lmfao. Anyway I'm a big sucker for anything involving monster/demon/creature!Jon

Connected by korereapers

Rating: Explicit

6,458 words, 1/1 chapters

A hookup gets wayyy more emotional than expected. But, y'know, they're not in love or anything. Right?

Comfort by curiouscorvid (prometheanTactician)

Rating: Explicit

4,866 words, 1/1 chapters

Mad Max AU. Edward is traversing the wasteland, where he finds and helps a desperate escapee.

I've found that Mad Max AUs are always so sad no matter what even though the movie itself is kinda silly lmfao.

worldly pleasures by leetheshark

Rating: Explicit

3,227 words, 1/1 chapters

Arkhamverse

Jonathan doesn't really know how to handle any sensation that isn't painful.

[incorrectringsofpower]

Season 2, Episode 5 liveblog notes (spoilers behind the cut)

DWARF TIME!

The Eagle thing is still very silly :/

Hmmm ominous, King Durin.

Not an engineer but this seems like a bad idea.

Narvi's big moment indeed. But also can we have more friendship moments with Celebrimbor, please?

Abusive relationship vibes, Annatar. Not great, buddy.

More Silm name dropping!

Incheresting framing of the tree in this scene.

Pharazôn's Unnamed Wife mention! Pretty sure those ill ends for Kemen are coming up sooner than S3 lol.

Elendil: Babe let me do a navy coup!

Touchiiiiing

Oh this ship is so saddddd ;_;

YES HE DID SEE SOMETHING

"riding from the city to..." ANÁRION?! PLS

TOUCHIIIING

VALANDIL NOOOO

Oh this is angsty af.

"And yours is made of seawater" ohhhh foreshadowing.

Them's fighting words, Kevin.

ilu Valandil

Also the red mixing in with the blue in the costuming is fascinating.

Time for Pharazôn to doomscroll reddit and 4chan.

Do no other elves in Eregion communicate to Lindon? Wouldn't they give away the forge activity?

Commander of the South, do you have a name?

Dying leaves RIP.

Disa pls be safe.

Narvi trying to be the voice of reason.

Feanor's angry ghost or Annatar manipulation?

Sauron, to Mirdania: Oh that was probably my cousin, nbd.

Aww man I wanted Durin to call Annatar a bitch.

Annatar is being creepy towards Celedania and I don't like it.

Grossssss.

Ah Kemen, you lil shit. With bad hair.

"How does it feel to have a daughter who's ashamed of you?" "Not as bad as it must feel to never live up to your dad's expectations and conditional love, buddy."

Hahaha the punch was well-deserved. I love it.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

0/10 DO NOT WANT

WHAT THE HELL KEMEN

THIS SUCKS

"No," he says, like a liar.

Dwarf angst noooo :(

But Disa didn't swear :€

"We will complete the Rings of Power" like, a prediction for the full series?

"Gondor, I mean, Eregion calls for aid!"

Hallo Glüg.

Sindarin this time, interesting.

Time for the exes to unionize!

Well I'm very sad about Valandil. There better be fanfic for him (and none for Gretchen Weiners/Kemen, bye).

[arthuluart]

Hiii - wanted to say first thing first I love your art style, it's so dynamic and fun and those color palettes? Stunning ^^

And second thing second, just some food for thought if you ever want to get angsty about Jerry and Dean, coffee by Chappell Roan sounds like it was written about their break up specifically and I can't stop thinking abt it dndnden

*Cue me losing my mind*

Hiii- they say flattery gets you everywhere and turns out with me, it gets you animatics- jkjk but I do appreciate the kind comments ^^

I’ll put up the animatic separately and take the opportunity to leave the preamble here to keep the video post neat bc until someone tells me to shut up and just post art- I’m gonna ramble… So here’s the commentary you didn’t ask for along with my favourite panels:

First off- You turned me into a big time Chappell Roan listener which is great bc I need music recs to fix my listening habits before Spotify wrapped drops. My roundup last year was shameful… Red Wine Supernova is my new dish washing song.

Even tho it’s not the song’s vibe I kept the content as silly as I could for my own sanity. I don’t love getting too deep into the serious/sad side of M+L for a few reasons but I do find it all very interesting. Point being this song was too good to pass up doing something a bit bigger for.

Ngl tho- this did have me pulling out hair at multiple points. I never colour animatics, rarely even tone them- but you mentioned colour palettes and I was determined to deliver so pardon the messy colouring but (that was the tradeoff) I did not have it in me to stay in the lines. I’m choosing to be kind to myself and opt to call it an artistic choice and not midway burnout. And nothing was gonna get me to open after effects/premiere not even the janky ass golf ball OML this only makes sense if u watch the video.

There are parts of this I’m SO happy with and others I hate. I think it’s really obvious which sections I started losing steam on but overall I lowkey like the end product. Nothing I make will ever be good/perfect- this was one hell of a practice in accepting that lmao- but I can still be ok with the work problems and all yknow? I very nearly shelved this completely bc I got so worked up about the maybe 5 panels I dislike out of 106 total. Counting them was eye opening to ask myself: you’re gonna let that small a ratio stop you from sharing this after putting in days and days of effort? The insecurity goes deep and TBH getting asks has been a nice way of working through it since I post the art I make for answers no matter what only bc I KNOW someone out there wants to see it. It might not sound it but it’s actually quite positive.

Also, although I feel I’ve done my fair share of reading, I’m no expert. So if anything is really off point- sorry my bad (I won’t fix it tho bc I cannot physically stand to look at this another second lol)

I tried to stick to real things found in articles/books/photos/interviews etc bc outside of obviously fictional AUs I’m not super into making stuff up about them (and who needs to I mean the legit stuff is already insane enough) Sure I framed the events in specific ways to suit the song and some aspects are fictionalized (mainly bc the referenced written accounts lacked detail to draw 100% faithfully from anyhow) but otherwise I got my sources cited.

ANYWAYS… sorry for hijacking this answer I need to learn to chill out. Irl I’m a pretty reserved talker so you can tell I’m in a comfy place when I let loose and blather on endlessly lmao brevity is not a skill I possess.

You were probably expecting illustrations or smth but I hope what I came up with is still somewhat alright AND please don’t let my complaining fool you, I genuinely loved making this.

One FINAL Relevant Note: the line “nowhere else is safe every place leads back to your place” is gut wrenching. You’re so right about this song perfectly describing the break up. They always came back to each other and there’s something so devastating about that kind of haunting human connection.

OkAY I’m done promise- I thought I’d implode if I didn’t get all that out

[farm-witches-fic-recs]

Friends! Countrypeople! Townies! The farm witch community has gathered together again to bring a selection of favorites old and new for your reading pleasure.

Check out these fics, leave the authors some love, and enjoy your days in the ways that make you happiest.

==========

London, Love, and All it Entails (londonspirit) “Patrick and David’s long term, long distance love affair. Someone mentioned GOGO (Getting Over Getting Older) and this one came to mind: two people are destined to be together but they first have lots to do before they are both ready. I find it both comforting and inspiring.” 

Noble Beloved (AWorldOfDreams/@a-noble-dragon) “I love this story so much! The entire Dracotine series to be honest. It’s such a unique spin on our favorite boys and their romance. The longing is palpable. The sexy times are hot as hell. And, yes, Patrick is a dragon—a perfect, snippy, numbers guy of a dragon. 💙🐉🖤”

My misspent youth and my slow decline (@stereopticons) “Only 800 words but it hurts so good. Patrick, David, Stevie, and Alexis each get a devastating moment that ends on such a high. Loved this.”

People like that are the only people here (@likerealpeopledo-on-ao3) “Warm yet complex Brewer family vibes, a gigantic treehouse, and Patrick coming to terms with his past at Thanksgiving. Plus the Roses! Doing Rose things! It’s a fic that helped me see how Patrick developed the flawed communication style he’s perfected and how sublime David is as a supportive partner (housewarming not included).”

Shot glass of tears (@blackandwhiteandrose) “There's just so much good stuff packed in a short fic. David in NYC is a whole mood but the way he feels things and even changes over this little bit of time is crazy. it's sad but it's not. I love that it ends knowing right where they'll pick up in Schitt's Creek.” 

Too fast (@grapehyasynth) “I come back to this one all the time. David worrying about this date being wrong for him (mini-golf! who would think David would mesh well with mini-golf!) but realizing how much Patrick is trying, how hot he thinks Patrick is, and relaxing into it and letting himself be charmed while still agonizing over making sure he isn't messing things up with Patrick is so lovely.” 

The touch of your hand makes my pulse react (pandorasdaydream) “This new RPF manages to create a vivid world where Dan and Noah are together and it's a world with both love and tenderness but also melancholy and jealousy. Highly recommend if you were one of those fans who did a side eye at Dan showing up drunk and enamored at Noah's London show.”

True Blue series (ayes)" An inventive, sweet & hot early-relationship AU in which David’s escape with Roland’s truck after the events of S1 ends with an encounter with friendly and generous goat farmer Clint Brewer (and his family) instead of the cranky Mennonites…. So David meets Patrick even before he’s worked at the Blouse Barn. The story includes hilarious appearances by the Roses and Stevie, is told from David’s (very anxious) PoV, and is as insightful & funny & satisfying as we all deserve. The series comes in two parts; both are worth devouring!" 

Wild and Wooded (@lisamc-21) “This is everything I want in a non angsty AU fic. They meet, tease and banter, find a way to meet again, click boom, and a happy ending. Patrick is so earnest and wears his heart on his sleeve, not to mention those heart eyes. David knows that Patrick has something that he has never encountered before. He wants it, but history has him doubting. Great dialog, great intimate scenes, lovely story.”

[kawaii-butt-crust-core]

Random HB headcanons / thoughts I guess

(tw for some sexual mentions and cursing )

Mammon fucking HATES jingle bell rock

Asmodeus sending fizz "send this to someone you love!" Type of videos and fizz sends shit like this

Just the thought that asmodeus ( the embodiment of lust ) believes love is not love without consent is honestly a great detail

Also thinking about how fizzarolli has eyebags

Millie can use a bow and arrowwwww

I think the human versions of blitzø and his family are indigenous, idk the nose and the skin tone, it might be a long shot but I like the idea yk

Also love seeing indigenous characters

Stolas loving outer space that's canon right

Imagine him as a kid just reading a shit ton of books about space and in any occurrence it's brought up now you know how the universe is going to end

Blitzø: I just need space-

Stolas: SPACE???????

I think after Octavia gets out of her super angsty teenager phase ( do not come after me I know it's more than an angsty "mom leave me alone I wanna be famous" thing, I'm kidding ) she would really like indie music

Like indie rock if that makes any sense

" with ♥️ from Ozzie " ON EVERYTHING OZ GIVES FIZZ URGAJF

I'm sorry but there neeeeeddsss to be more Millie appreciation

I kinda wish there was an episode that centers around her yk ?

Do you think imps nipples are white too like scars and freckles or am I weird

Ozzie posting on everything " YES THE RUMORS ARE TRUE THIS IS MY FUCKING SOULMATE" because for some reason there was a lot of controversy and debate if it was real or not

Then next to it it's a picture of him and fizz

People were PISSED

I thought mamom was played by bluey's dad bandit if I'm being completely honest I'm so sorry

Millie is spider man moxxie is hello kitty

Stella likes soup. What is she eating now? Oh some fucking soup. What's wrong with her icecub- SHE FROZE THE SOUP TO MAKE ICE CUBES-

Loona has a very bad picking at her skin habit, not really with her face but with her legs and arms ( human form obviously )

I LOVE HOW MUCH BLITZØ LOVES LOONA IM SORRYYYY

Fizz posting " FUCK ALL OF YOU" on all of his socials , deleting everything ( especially the sexually explicit things )

I think being a part of the circus is equivalent to trailer trash in hell

I mean look at em

I love it

Human form Ozzie would have THE MOST luscious hair ever

This image just says so much about them as a pair it kills me

The way the animators just go above and beyond is just amazing to me

How did fizzarolli get the 2 minutes notice thing planned so quickly...........

" IM A KLOWN BITCH🤪 IM A KLOWN BITCH🤪🤞🏼"

Fizz over sharing as a teenager ( not projecting )

THAT ONE SCENW QITH STOLAS MOVING STELLAS HAND LITERALLY MADE MY FUCKING JAW DROP HOLY SHIT

HES LITERALLY TAKING BACK HIS LIFE

fizz really thought in "oops!" That he wasn't gonna make it out of the fire again

Like bro just put his knees to his chest and CRIED

IDK RHATS SK SAD TO MEEEE

Speaking of fizz how did that mark in the next episode get there? What was that? Idk if it was maybe a bruise from.. something.. I don't wanna say it was from mamon because that would defeat the purpose of his character being EMOTIONALLY ABUSIVE and that emotional abuse is still abuse, but idk some people said it might be because of him?

Can you tell I'm obsessed with fizzarolli

The sexual harassment rep.... People who have experienced sh usually think "it's not as bad as *other s3xual trauma* so I'm just being dramatic" ( I say this from experience ) but it ABSOLUTELY IS AND SHOULD BE RECOGNIZED. It's still something you're not comfortable with. Fizz brushing it off as "oh well they're just fans who express their love differently!" Should not have been taught to him.

I'm not slightly projecting again. Nuh uh

Ozzie can play saxophone. He just gives me the vibe.

MILLIE CANNOTTTT KEEP A PLANT ALIVE FOR SHIT BRO

MOXXIE?? UH MAYBE A MONTH. 2 MAX. MILLIE? ITS DEAD WITHIN A DAY.

Loona: I AM NOT PUTTING THAT ON

blitzø: JUST ONE FUCKING FAMILY PICTURE LOONA-

Beezlebubs design just screams if kesha. Even if they didn't mean to.

Millie getting stuck in trees as a kid and being too scared to get down

Was Barbies real name barbie or is that a nickname? Or was it for the sake of the circus ( like blitzøs name being .. well blitzø )

Millie name is short for Amelia maybe? People used to call her Lia but she hated it so much she started writing her nickname Millie on everything.

People saying they hated / thought the stolas human design could've been better can go FUCK themselves HONESTLY

Blitzø and fizzs as teenagers going to their town center and being like "?????? Why is everything so FANCY it's AMAZING"

Octavia can't handle spicy things for SHIT

Look at their British asses

They cough at smelling PEPPER

Stolas just randomly texting Octavia "you're so beautiful darling! Have a nice day <3 -your dad" or "don't forget to eat! -your dad" ( he texts like that IDC )

FUCK STELLA ME AND MY HOES HATE THAT BITCH

Octavia writes poetry! It's actually really good

Okay so I have this headcanon that in the HELLUVA BOSS universe that songs like contoursionist, toxic ( by ashnikko ), tunnel vision and agorah hills, NYMPHOLOGY, and he has this "one last show" thing where he preforms these songs and HE IS SCREAMING SOME OF HIS OWN SONGS

But that would also defeat his character development so I'll just imagine him singing this songs in the car or smth

Mamon having to do some toxic gossip train shit

I WANMA SAY OZZIE HAS TWO OLDER SISTERS BUT IDK IF THAT WOULD WORKKKKK

Millie kills the spider.

I think that may be all okay byeeee

[captainshorter]

Instead of rating shows i watched this year like a normal person im rating on how much they made me cry !

Side note, im not rating all of the shows I've watched, there are over 50 of them so nah not doing that😂

Moonlight chicken, 10/10, made me cry lots, great vibes

Never let me go

100/10, cried especially hard at that one scene with Palm and Neung dancing in that hotelroom after Palm's mum got killed.

Between us, A solid 9/10

I watched Until we meet again after i watched this and i heard it was so so sad so i was like hell yeah go sadness you know? But it disappointed me so much, i didn't like it all:/

I told sunset about you, 10/10, made me cry

Followed by I promised you the moon 100/10, it made me cry more than itsay, i liked it more too:))

The Eighth sense

1000/10 THIS WAS LITERALLY SO BEAUTIFUL MADE ME CRY SO HARD

Love mechanics, 100/10, made me cry lots:')

Blueming, 100000/10 CRIED, CRIED AND SOBBED, THIS ONE DEFINITELY MADE ME CRY HARDWST SHARING HIS PLACE WITH THE NEXT ONE

I feel you linger in the air, 100000/10. You wanna know the funniest about this being rated so high for making me cry? When i was watching the like first six episode or something i was like, wow yeah i kinda feel it's sad but it hadn't made me cry yet. THEN SIKE THE LAST FEW EPISODE HIT LIKE A TRUCK AND I LITERALLY COULDN'T STOP CRYING FOR AN NEARLY AN HOUR AFTER FINISHING IT. Yeah anyways

Bed friend, 8/10, it was angsty which i had not expected when i started watching it when it aired but it was incredibly. I didn't cry that much though. It gets point for unexpected angst and good portrayed trauma:)

Only friends, 9/10. Ray made me cry so hard with that scene in the bathtub. But the scene in the GIF above had me crying too.

Anyways that was it because Tumblr has a limit of adding gif per post and i feel like I've noted everything worth mentioning:))

(one more scene worth noting is the one in kiseki dear to me, not sure which episode anymore, but where Ai Di is sitting in front of a birthday cake and you see the years pass, that one hurt so much and i shedded some tears:'))

Another show worth noting for cry-ability (that's a word from now on), is Pitbabe, i have not cried because of it but it's kind sad and angsty so it has potential for making me cry

[hellsbeenbettersincehesplit]

@zestapple

(og post for context)

Ask and ye shall receive! (Aka I’ve been looking for a reason to yap abt them lol also this got away from me so most is under the read more)

Ok so. On Cherri’s end, this is a month after the final battle. Her enemy turned ally turned sort-of-crush kissed her and died, and he wasn’t reforming and she’s worried he never will. Her best friend, Angel Dust, is still clean and avoiding violence. She knows damn well that their old activities weren’t aligned well with redemption, nor were they what’s best for either of them. That doesn’t change the fact that it feels like she’s being left behind with everything else Angel is leaving in the past. He tries to make time for her, and it’s nice, but it’s just not the same as it used to be. Also, he’s trying to get redeemed and go to Heaven- where Cherri won’t be. In summary, she knows she’s losing him, or at least will eventually. She’s lonely and reconsidering all of her priorities, and thinking about if she should stay at the hotel.

On Blitzø’s end, he’s reconnected with Fizz but his sister still wants nothing to do with him. He’s caught feelings for a prince of Hell that he’s sure only wants him for sex. His daughter is distant at best. He still hates himself. 

Both of them have self-destructive tendencies, violent occupations, and have been shown relying on sex and drugs as a coping mechanism.

So. Stolas has dissolved Angel’s contract after roughly 5 minutes because Valentino misspelled a couple crucial words. At this point, Stolas is talking to Charlie about helping more sinners. Cherri is elated for Angel, and he looks so happy and free. She hugs and congratulates him, and it’s great. And while they’re sitting at the bar to celebrate and Angel is flirting with Husk, she hears Husk ask the angsty imp bodyguard if he’s sure he can handle his liquor, and the imp responds with something about out-drinking Gluttony herself.

Interesting. Cherri could vibe with this.

So, she strikes up a bit of a conversation with him. Turns out he runs a company that assassinates people on Earth, and he seemed equally fascinated when she talked about defending her turf. She showed him one of her bombs, and he let her examine one of his guns. He gives her a business card. And she puts her number on his phone, because the imp- named Blitzø apparently- is kind of a vibe.

The next time she needs backup and Angel has to apologize and can’t show up because of Val- which she totally gets but which is also annoying as fuck- she calls IMP next, promises cash, and surprisingly, he shows up. She has to hand it to him, Blitzø is an incredible fighter. They go out for drinks later, and they can match each other shot for shot.

The next time she sees him, he texts her an address. She shows up and finds out that they want her to help out with their latest conflict. She asks about how she thought they worked in the human world and they all talk over each other so she still doesn’t know what they were doing in Pride. And when her part in their plan is over, she has to admit again- the three work together incredibly well. (She wonders if she and Sir Pentious could have been that, in another world. Shit. Now she’s sad again.) Blitz hands her a bottle of tequila straight from Gluttony to thank her, and she has to admit that it was shockingly considerate. (The next time she sees him, she gives him a set of her bombs to pay him back.)

And so it becomes their thing. Whenever Cherri’s in a pickle and Blitzø is available, he comes to help out with the turf war. Whenever he’s in Pride on a job, he calls her and she gets to blow shit up with him. And usually, they end the meeting by getting fucked up together in a club or at a party somewhere. She can honestly call him something of a friend. He would say the same if he wasn’t so scared of getting close to people.

It all changes when Charlie comments about some developments with Heaven, and how Angel might be redeemed really soon. Obviously, Cherri was happy for him, but of course something like this would be bittersweet, because now losing Angel is closer than ever. So after she congratulates him, she retreats to her room and calls the first number she saw that might be a sympathetic ear without being too attached to the situation. Through her tears, she talks about everything with losing Angel, losing Pentious, and everything else in her life. On the other end, Blitzø is quiet for a moment, and after an awkward attempt to comfort her, he tells her a little bit about his thing with Stolas. ‘I guess we’re both fuckups,’ he tells her, and she laughs wetly and agrees. 

After then, they start talking more often without an external reason, and sometimes Blitzø will visit pride just to see her. It’s… really nice, honestly.

They’re a terrible influence on each other and they often egg on the other’s worst tendencies. But they also can let loose around the other. They know the other can’t judge them because frankly they both know the other’s personal life is just as messy. And there’s a freedom for both of them in that.