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urdreamydoodles · 19 days ago

Note

hi hi! I love your writing and was wondering about what you’d think everyone’s reaction to a drunk us. Maybe we went drinking together and were a lightweight or something (idk 🥲) anyways thank youuuuu!!!

X-Men x Drunk!Reader (Part.1)

How they deal with their drunk s/o (Part.1)

A night out with your partner quickly turns wild as your tipsy self unleashes a little chaos around.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, Rogue, Erik Lehnsherr, Charles Xavier, Bobby Drake, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Emma Frost, Raven Darkhölme & Laura Kinney

I was extremely inspired by this prompt, thank you <3

Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine

- Logan is absolutely used to handling chaos, but nothing quite prepares him for the brand of trouble you unleash when tipsy. When you’re several drinks in and decide it’s a good idea to start a spontaneous dance battle with some random patrons, Logan just sighs and crosses his arms, watching with a mix of amusement and exasperation. He’s tempted to pull you away but can’t deny how much he’s enjoying the show.

- He’s mostly unfazed when you start taking your "battle" a bit too far, challenging one particularly large guy to a dance-off. Logan leans against the bar with a smirk, ready to step in if things get out of hand. He figures you can handle yourself, but if anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, he’s already prepared to make his presence known.

- When you stumble over to him, grinning like you’ve just won a gold medal, he can't help but chuckle, pulling you close and whispering, “You’re a handful, y’know that?” But it’s clear he’s enjoying this different side of you, especially when you insist on dragging him onto the dance floor despite his protests. Logan grumbles but lets you lead, his usual stoicism softening just for you.

- It’s when you try to order “a round for everyone” on his tab that Logan decides enough is enough. He firmly wraps an arm around your waist and steers you away from the bar, muttering about how he’s “not made of money” as you laugh and lean into him. He’s torn between scolding you and letting out a laugh of his own.

- On the walk home, you ramble about the night, sharing exaggerated stories and embellishments that make Logan roll his eyes but secretly cherish every word. Despite his gruff exterior, he listens to every detail, finding the way you see the world endlessly entertaining and a perfect counterbalance to his own guarded nature.

- By the time you’re back, Logan’s more than happy to tuck you in, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. You’re finally starting to settle, mumbling something about how much fun you had with him. He just smiles, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’re trouble,” he murmurs, though you can hear the affection in his voice. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Remy LeBeau aka. Gambit

- Remy absolutely thrives on chaos, and he’s more than ready to encourage it the moment he sees you’ve had a few drinks. When you suddenly decide it’s a great idea to “borrow” someone’s hat and start spinning it around like a magician, Remy’s right there, egging you on with a wicked grin and suggesting even wilder antics. “Go on, chérie, show ‘em what you got.”

- He’s delighted when you turn to him with that mischievous sparkle in your eye, pulling him into your impromptu show. You two quickly become the center of attention as he plays along, letting you use his trench coat for added flair while he flourishes a deck of cards with his signature charm, drawing oohs and ahhs from the crowd.

- When you start loudly declaring that Remy’s “the best-looking man in the room,” he just smirks and pulls you close, whispering, “Tell me somethin’ I don’t know, ma belle.” You can tell he’s absolutely eating up every bit of attention, and he makes sure to dip you dramatically on the dance floor, laughing along with you.

- Things escalate when you decide to start a card game with some nearby strangers, with Remy’s deck, of course. You might be a little hazy on the rules, but he’s having too much fun watching you bluff your way through. The two of you make a formidable (if slightly unorthodox) team, charming everyone at the table with your combined wit and unpredictability.

- Remy makes sure to keep you steady when you start wobbling a bit, an arm always draped around your shoulders as he guides you from one bit of chaos to the next. He’s vigilant without being obvious, letting you have your fun while ensuring no one gets too handsy or tries to take advantage of your state.

- When the night winds down, he insists on carrying you back if you’re stumbling, laughing when you protest that you can walk just fine. Once home, he lays you on the bed with exaggerated gentleness, grinning down at you with that signature smirk of his. “Ma belle, you certainly know how t’ keep things interestin’,” he whispers before placing a soft kiss on your hand. For Remy, nights like this with you are what make life exciting.

Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler

- Kurt is simultaneously amused and a bit alarmed when he realizes you’re tipsy. He’s not used to you being so bold, so when you start loudly complimenting him and declaring him “the handsomest guy in the room,” his cheeks turn a dark shade of blue. He tries to calm you down, but you’re too busy grabbing his hand and dragging him toward the dance floor.

- At first, Kurt’s hesitant to join you, worried that his appearance might draw stares. But you’re so unbothered and so full of joy that he can’t help but relax, letting you lead him. His movements are clumsy but endearing, and he laughs along with you, his tail swishing in rhythm as he finally lets go of his worries, at least for tonight.

- When you start insisting on “showing everyone his bamf trick,” Kurt chuckles nervously, trying to talk you out of it. But you’re persistent, so he finally gives in, teleporting the two of you across the room in a puff of smoke. Your delighted laughter is infectious, and he starts teleporting you both to random spots around the club, filling the room with giggles and gasps from onlookers.

- Eventually, you try to climb up on a table to make an “important announcement,” and Kurt quickly teleports you back down before you can get too carried away. He’s laughing as he steadies you, but there’s a hint of worry in his eyes. “Mein liebe, maybe we should stick to safer activities, ja?” he teases, holding your hands firmly in his.

- As the night goes on, Kurt never strays far from your side. He’s a mixture of amused, charmed, and just a little bit flustered by your antics, but he’s also keenly aware of the attention you’re drawing. When anyone tries to get a little too close, he’ll bamf in between you and them, a protective look on his face as he politely but firmly keeps them at bay.

- Once you’re back home, he’s the sweetest caretaker, making sure you’re comfortable and tucking you in with a gentle smile. He holds your hand as you drift off, murmuring softly in German about how lucky he is to have someone as vibrant and fearless as you in his life. Even in your chaotic moments, Kurt’s love for you only grows stronger.

Scott Summers aka. Cyclops

- Scott is a bit hesitant when he notices you’ve had a few too many drinks, but he’s dedicated to making sure you’re safe and enjoying yourself. When you start insisting on trying to wear his visor and “see the world through his eyes,” he’s both flustered and exasperated, gently guiding your hands away with a laugh. “Trust me, you wouldn’t want that,” he says, trying to keep a straight face as you pout.

- You surprise him by dragging him onto the dance floor, and Scott, ever the responsible one, initially tries to decline. But seeing you so excited and insistent, he finally gives in. He might be awkward at first, but he quickly adjusts to your rhythm, even pulling you close and twirling you in an attempt to match your enthusiasm.

- When you declare loudly to a few nearby patrons that Scott Summers is “the best and most handsome leader,” he can’t help but blush. He’s clearly flattered and a bit embarrassed by the attention, but he just nods, smiling shyly, as you shower him with compliments. He feels oddly proud of your open affection, even if he’s a little overwhelmed by it.

- Scott keeps a close eye on you throughout the night, gently steering you away from any potential trouble or prying eyes. When someone bumps into you, causing you to stumble, he’s right there to steady you, one hand firmly on your waist. He’s the picture of a protective boyfriend, subtly keeping others at bay while still letting you enjoy yourself.

- When you start to get a little too loud and insist on “making a toast to the greatest mutant leader ever,” Scott decides it’s probably time to get you home. He chuckles softly, catching your hand and guiding you out of the club, all the while listening to your increasingly dramatic proclamations of love and admiration. He’s touched by it all, even if he won’t admit it.

- Back home, Scott helps you settle in, making sure you’re comfortable and well-hydrated. He sits by your side, holding your hand as you drowsily tell him how much you love him. Scott just smiles, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I love you too, even when you’re a handful,” he murmurs, content to stay by your side until you fall asleep.

Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix

- Jean is equal parts entertained and concerned when she realizes you’re tipsy. She’s usually the responsible one, but she can’t help but laugh when you start slurring your words and calling her your “favorite telepathic goddess.” Jean blushes, clearly flattered by your adoration, and gently shushes you, though she’s clearly enjoying every second of it.

- When you start dancing wildly, Jean initially tries to calm you down, worried about drawing attention. But seeing the joy in your eyes, she eventually lets her guard down and joins you, holding your hands and spinning you around as you laugh. She’s surprisingly graceful and a fantastic dancer, easily matching your energy and guiding you through the moves.

- At one point, you insist that you and Jean “show off your telepathic connection” to the crowd. Jean laughs, gently steering you away from the idea. Instead, she subtly uses her powers to make sure you don’t stumble, mentally guiding you to stay upright and steady. Her subtle help goes unnoticed by you, but she’s just relieved to see you having fun.

- Jean finds herself laughing even more when you start a friendly debate with a nearby stranger about the “genius” of her red hair. She can’t believe how fiercely you’re defending her beauty, even as you insist it’s a “scientific fact” that she’s the most gorgeous woman in the room. Jean’s cheeks flush, and she wraps an arm around your waist, whispering, “You’re adorable, you know that?”

- When you start to get tired, Jean’s the perfect caretaker, gently guiding you out of the bustling club. She makes sure you’re cozy, even grabbing her own jacket to drape over your shoulders. She keeps a hand on you the entire way home, reassuring you and quietly laughing at your sleepy, affectionate murmurs.

- Once back, Jean gets you settled on the couch, brushing stray hair out of your face with the softest smile. You reach for her hand, mumbling something about how lucky you are to have her. She blushes, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m the lucky one,” she whispers, more to herself than to you, as she sits by your side until you drift off.

Ororo Munroe aka. Storm

- Ororo is incredibly amused when she realizes you’re tipsy; she’s rarely seen this side of you, and she finds it adorable. When you start calling her your “queen of the skies” and insisting she “make it rain just for fun,” she laughs and gently pats your cheek, reminding you that some powers are best kept for emergencies.

- You grab her hand and pull her onto the dance floor, much to her surprise. Ororo might be a graceful and poised leader, but she has a playful side too. She lets you lead, laughing as you spin her around, her silver hair flowing around her as she dances with surprising ease. It’s a rare sight, and you can tell she’s having fun, loosening up just for you.

- When you start loudly telling everyone nearby that “Ororo is the most powerful woman in the world,” she tries to shush you, laughing softly. She’s both flattered and slightly embarrassed by the attention, but she allows you to bask in her presence. She’ll gently tease you for your enthusiasm, a fond look in her eyes as she watches you defend her honor.

- Ororo’s always watching out for you, subtly guiding you away from any potential trouble. If you start to stumble or look a little too wobbly, she’s right there to steady you, her hand on your shoulder and a calm smile on her face. She finds a certain joy in taking care of you, grateful for this softer side of your relationship.

- At one point, you try to “command the winds” like her, playfully imitating her powers. Ororo laughs, incredibly entertained by your antics. She doesn’t mind the teasing, and she even indulges you by summoning a soft breeze that ruffles your hair, making you gasp in delight. “See? The winds listen to you too,” she jokes with a wink.

- When you’re finally ready to head home, Ororo makes sure you’re comfortable, holding your hand and gently brushing your cheek as you murmur about how amazing she is. She chuckles softly, telling you stories of her adventures to help you relax. Once home, she tucks you in with a gentle kiss on your forehead, whispering, “Sleep well, my love,” as she watches over you, content and deeply in love.

Anna Marie aka. Rogue

- Rogue is equal parts amused and nervous as she watches you go from a few drinks to a bit too tipsy. You start telling her she’s “the prettiest southern belle ever,” and she can’t help but blush and laugh, giving you a playful shove. But there’s a touch of worry in her eyes—she’s protective and feels a need to make sure you’re okay.

- When you try to dance with her, Rogue hesitates, but your enthusiasm is contagious. She ends up joining you, making sure to keep her gloved hands carefully in place. She’s gentle but full of energy, matching your moves while constantly keeping an eye on you to make sure you don’t trip over your own feet. Her laughter is light and warm, and she looks almost carefree.

- You start raving about how amazing Rogue is, telling random people nearby how she’s “a hero who can’t even touch people, but still manages to save the world.” She gets a bit flustered and shy, trying to hush you with a soft “sugar, that’s enough,” but the pride in her eyes is unmistakable. No one’s ever praised her like that before, and it means a lot.

- When someone accidentally bumps into you, and you look about ready to start a tipsy argument, Rogue steps in with a charming Southern drawl and defuses the situation. She’s got a sweet, calming presence when she wants to, and she manages to steer you away with ease, laughing about it afterward while holding your arm gently.

- Rogue knows when you’re reaching your limit and insists on taking you home, using a soft but firm tone to make sure you listen. She doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you, and seeing you a bit out of it brings out her nurturing side. “Alright, sugar, let’s get ya back before you do somethin’ we’ll both regret,” she says, guiding you with a patient smile.

- Once home, she sits with you, listening as you tell her how much you love her and appreciate her strength. Rogue’s heart swells with emotion, and she gently brushes a gloved hand along your cheek. “You’re somethin’ special, darlin’,” she murmurs, her voice warm and full of affection, staying with you until you’re sound asleep.

Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto

- Erik is a bit bemused but mostly wary when he notices you’re getting tipsy. He’s used to maintaining control in every situation, and your loosened inhibitions make him a bit nervous. But when you start complimenting his intelligence and calling him “the smartest, most powerful man in the room,” he lets a rare smile slip, finding your praise amusing.

- You start dragging him around, pointing at various metallic objects in the bar and insisting he show off his powers. He rolls his eyes at first, but he eventually indulges you by making a few small metallic items hover, just to see the joy on your face. Erik isn’t one to perform tricks, but he finds himself unable to say no to you.

- When you loudly declare that “Magneto is the future of mutantkind,” he tries to quiet you, but he’s clearly flattered by your support. He’s a man who’s used to admiration but doesn’t often receive it so openly. There’s a softness in his eyes as he places a firm hand on your shoulder, guiding you back to your seat with a chuckle.

- Erik stays close to you, watching with an amused smile as you stumble through conversations and rant about how incredible he is. He’s fiercely protective, stepping in if anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way. He’s calm, composed, and carries an air of authority that subtly warns others not to mess with you.

- At one point, you try to mimic his deep, imposing voice, quoting some of his more famous speeches. He’s visibly amused, and even a bit impressed at how well you remember his words. Erik finds your respect for his ideals endearing, and he places a gentle hand on your back, chuckling as he listens to your tipsy impression.

- When it’s time to leave, he’s entirely in control, guiding you out with a strong arm around your shoulders. Once home, Erik sits with you, listening as you share your adoration for him. He’s not the most openly affectionate man, but he reaches out, gently squeezing your hand as he says, “Your loyalty is a rare gift, and I don’t take it lightly.” He stays by your side, quietly protective, until you’re resting peacefully.

Charles Xavier aka. Professor X

- Charles is endlessly patient as you start to get a little tipsy, a gentle smile on his face as you go from poised to adorably unfiltered. When you begin praising his brilliance and calling him “the kindest genius in the world,” he chuckles, incredibly touched. “Flattery will get you everywhere,” he teases, his eyes warm with affection.

- You insist that he shows off his powers, and Charles tries to decline, but your insistence eventually makes him give in. He subtly uses his telepathy to give you an image of your favorite place, a soothing mental picture that instantly makes you smile. He finds joy in seeing you happy, and he uses his powers in the gentlest, most comforting way.

- Charles is protective and attentive, ensuring you’re comfortable and not getting yourself into any trouble. When you loudly declare your love for him in front of others, he’s both embarrassed and deeply moved, his cheeks flushing slightly. “You’re quite the charmer tonight,” he whispers, his voice filled with warmth as he gently holds your hand.

- When someone tries to join your conversation, and you’re too tipsy to notice their intentions, Charles politely but firmly steps in, his calm authority enough to send them on their way. He might be gentle, but he can be firm when needed, and he’s especially vigilant when it comes to keeping you safe.

- You start telling Charles that he’s the greatest leader mutantkind could ever ask for, and he’s genuinely humbled, listening with a fond smile as you praise his wisdom and kindness. He doesn’t always let himself accept such compliments, but coming from you, they mean the world to him, and he quietly thanks you with a soft, appreciative kiss on your hand.

- When it’s time to leave, he makes sure you’re steady, guiding you with gentle hands and a reassuring presence. Back home, he helps you get comfortable, listening as you continue to express your admiration for him. Charles smiles, stroking your hand and murmuring, “I’m grateful for your support more than you know.” He stays by your side, his calm and comforting presence grounding you until you drift off to sleep.

Bobby Drake aka. Iceman

- Bobby finds your drunken antics both hilarious and endearing. As the night progresses, you start comparing him to a “walking snow cone” and insisting that he make ice sculptures for you on demand. Bobby, always up for a bit of fun, humors you by creating little ice animals in the palm of his hand, laughing as your eyes light up in delight.

- When you slip on an ice patch he accidentally created, Bobby quickly catches you, apologizing profusely while chuckling. You start calling him your “snow prince” and playfully berate him for “making the world slippery.” He just grins, his hold on you steady, clearly enjoying your tipsy declarations and the way you cling to him.

- You insist on taking selfies with him, urging him to freeze up cute little props for the photos. Bobby goes all out, conjuring up ice hats, snowflake glasses, and even a tiny ice crown for you. By the end, your phone is full of adorable photos of the two of you laughing and posing together.

- When you go off on a tangent, telling the bartender and anyone nearby how incredible Bobby is, he gets a bit bashful but loves every second. Bobby has always loved being the center of attention, but hearing you proudly gush about him has him smiling like a fool. He playfully nudges you, saying, “Keep it coming, babe; I don’t hear this enough!”

- When you get a bit too warm in the crowded room, Bobby uses his powers to create a gentle, cool breeze just for you. You giggle and thank him, calling him your “personal A/C,” and he chuckles, wrapping his arm around you and playfully cooling you down whenever you request it.

- By the end of the night, Bobby is happily holding you up, guiding you home with an arm around your shoulders. He listens as you continue to talk about how wonderful he is, and he just grins, giving you a quick, frosty kiss on the forehead. “You’re pretty amazing yourself,” he says, staying with you until you’re safely tucked in and fast asleep.

Wanda Maximoff aka. The Scarlet Witch

- Wanda is amused by how talkative and unfiltered you get when you’re drunk. She’s often quiet and reserved herself, so seeing you let loose makes her smile. You start rambling about how “beautiful and powerful” she is, and she blushes, trying to brush it off, but your sincerity warms her heart.

- When you ask her to use her powers to make things “magical,” Wanda gently warns you, not wanting to attract too much attention. But when she sees the hopeful look in your eyes, she can’t resist. With a subtle flick of her fingers, she makes tiny red sparks dance in the air around you, creating a little “magic show” that leaves you giggling with joy.

- At one point, you try to mimic her iconic hand gestures, waving your hands around dramatically as if casting a spell. Wanda laughs softly, guiding your hands in the proper motions. “Like this, darling,” she murmurs, her fingers intertwined with yours as she playfully shows you her “magic moves.”

- When someone bumps into you a bit too roughly, Wanda steps forward, a protective fire in her eyes. Though she doesn’t escalate the situation, there’s a warning in her gaze that makes the person quickly apologize. She holds you close, whispering, “You’re safe with me,” her voice soothing and reassuring.

- As the night goes on, you keep insisting that Wanda is “the most powerful and amazing person ever,” and she laughs, flattered by your drunken praise. “You might be a little biased,” she teases, but there’s a soft blush on her cheeks, and you can tell she’s deeply touched by your admiration.

- When it’s time to go home, Wanda wraps an arm around you, using a bit of her magic to guide you gently so you don’t stumble. Once you’re home, she stays with you, listening as you continue to talk about how much you adore her. She strokes your hair and whispers, “You mean the world to me too,” staying by your side until you drift off into a peaceful sleep.

Pietro Maximoff aka. Quicksilver

- Pietro finds your drunken state absolutely hilarious, especially when you start trying to mimic his super-speed by running around. He quickly catches you each time, his laughter filling the air as he playfully warns you that “You’re not quite fast enough, babe!”

- You start challenging him to races, even though you know he’ll win. Pietro humors you, letting you “win” a couple of times, but eventually, he zips past you with a playful smirk. “Better luck next time!” he teases, only to scoop you up and spin you around when you pout about losing.

- When you get tired, Pietro is immediately by your side, lifting you into his arms without a second thought. You giggle and tell him he’s “better than a rollercoaster,” and he laughs, racing around just to hear your delighted squeals. He loves seeing you happy and will do anything to keep you smiling.

- When someone looks at you a bit too long for Pietro’s liking, he’s instantly protective, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and making it very clear that you’re his. He glares at the person until they look away, then turns back to you with a soft smile, his fingers brushing your cheek affectionately.

- You start bragging to strangers about Pietro’s speed, telling them he’s “the fastest guy in the world,” and Pietro just laughs, loving how proud you are of him. “Keep it up, and I’ll have to show off even more,” he says, giving you a cheeky wink as he zips around the room, just to impress you.

- By the end of the night, he’s carrying you home, his arms strong and steady around you as he runs. You cling to him, your arms wrapped around his neck, and he smiles, whispering, “I’ve got you, always.” Once you’re home, Pietro stays by your side, listening as you drift off, mumbling about how much you love him. He kisses your forehead, whispering, “Love you too, my slowpoke.”

Emma Frost aka. The White Queen

- Emma finds your drunken state absolutely fascinating, especially when you become more playful and bold. Normally calm and reserved, you start teasing her about her “icy” demeanor, and she’s amused, a rare smirk on her face as she listens to you try to “crack” her tough exterior. She’s secretly charmed by your confidence.

- When you dramatically declare that she’s “the most beautiful woman in the world,” Emma rolls her eyes with a soft laugh but secretly enjoys every word. She’s used to compliments, but something about hearing them from you, even in your tipsy state, makes her feel genuinely adored. She’ll brush a hand over your cheek, murmuring, “Careful with those compliments, darling—you’re liable to spoil me.”

- As the night progresses, you start showing off for her, attempting overly elaborate gestures and winking clumsily. Emma finds your efforts hilarious but still looks at you with genuine affection. Her fingers brush yours, and she lets herself be a bit softer with you, impressed by your uninhibited side.

- When someone gives you a bit too much attention, Emma is instantly protective. She’ll stand close to you, radiating that commanding aura, and make it clear that you’re taken. She’ll give you a subtle nod, as if to say, “Don’t worry—I’ve got you,” and her calm confidence reassures you instantly.

- You get a little bolder as the night goes on, playfully daring her to dance or try something “un-Emma-like.” Amused and intrigued, she might indulge you, swaying slightly to the music or even placing your hand in hers for a private moment. She’ll laugh, saying, “You’re lucky I’m in a generous mood tonight,” though you can tell she’s enjoying herself.

- When it’s time to leave, Emma makes sure you’re steady, her arm around your waist as she guides you to the car. She’ll whisper little reassurances, telling you how much she appreciates this rare, open side of you. Once home, she’ll help you settle in, her voice soft and reassuring, reminding you that she’s there for you completely.

Raven Darkhölme aka. Mystique

- Mystique is both amused and intrigued by your drunken state. Normally guarded, you become surprisingly talkative, telling her all sorts of stories. She listens with a raised eyebrow, smirking at your candidness. “So, this is what I miss when you’re sober?” she’ll tease, clearly enjoying this rare glimpse into your unfiltered thoughts.

- You keep reaching out to touch her, fascinated by her blue skin and how it shifts under your fingers. Mystique finds this endearing, gently teasing you but allowing you to trace her features. She’s rarely this vulnerable, but your innocent curiosity brings out a softer side, and she even leans into your touch.

- When you start rambling about how “amazing” and “mysterious” she is, Mystique just chuckles, a rare, genuine smile crossing her face. Normally, she brushes off praise, but hearing it from you makes her feel appreciated in a way she’s not used to. She might even mutter, “Careful, or I’ll start believing you.”

- As the night goes on, you get into a bit of mischief together, with Mystique indulging your chaotic ideas. She’ll shift into different forms to amuse you, and you giggle every time she surprises you with a new face. Her laughter is warm and genuine, her guard completely down as she shares these fun moments with you.

- If anyone even looks at you the wrong way, Mystique’s protective instincts kick in. She’ll throw a deadly glare their way, making it very clear that you’re off-limits. Her fierce loyalty to you is both comforting and thrilling, and you find yourself feeling safe and cherished in her presence.

- When it’s time to go, she keeps an arm around you, guiding you back with quiet reassurances. She murmurs little words of comfort, her voice softer than usual, and even hums a low melody to keep you calm. Once home, she stays by your side, brushing your hair back and promising, “I’m here, always.”

Laura Kinney aka. X-23 / Wolverine

- Laura is a bit confused by your drunken antics, as she’s not exactly used to seeing you so uninhibited. She watches with curiosity and maybe a little amusement as you sway around, stumbling slightly. Laura finds herself oddly charmed by this side of you, even if she’s unsure how to respond at first.

- You keep reaching out to hold her hand or touch her arm, and though Laura is usually reserved, she lets you. Your affection surprises her, but she’s not one to pull away, especially with you. When you look up at her with that tipsy grin, she can’t help the tiny smile that breaks through her usual stoic expression.

- When you start playfully teasing her, calling her “your fierce protector” and joking about her serious demeanor, Laura is both amused and a bit flustered. She’s never had someone look at her like you do, with so much warmth and admiration, and your words mean more to her than she’ll let on.

- As the night goes on, Laura gets a bit protective. If you start wandering or leaning too close to others, she’ll gently pull you back, her grip steady but careful. “Stay close,” she’ll murmur, her voice soft but firm, a little blush on her cheeks as she realizes just how much she likes keeping you safe.

- You keep talking about how “amazing” she is, going on and on about her strength, courage, and loyalty. Laura is taken aback, not used to hearing such open admiration, but she listens quietly, her heart swelling with pride. She doesn’t say much, but her hand stays in yours, squeezing gently whenever you look her way.

- By the end of the night, she’s helping you home, a quiet but steady presence by your side. Laura makes sure you’re comfortable, brushing hair from your face as you drift off. Before leaving, she murmurs, “I’ll always keep you safe,” her voice barely a whisper. She stays nearby, her protective instincts on high, ensuring you’re well cared for as you sleep.

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chknbzkt · 1 year ago

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FINALLYYY FIRST CELESTIAL IVE BEEN CHOMPING AT THE BIT TO SHOW THIS-

And a mix of various sketches and drafts!!!

Psst down here v

Since the horrific murder of a nobleman has put many people in the kingdom’s walls off the idea of letting dragons in their midst for the time being, Sundrop’s continued employ under the king as a personal jester and informant has many under the impression that the dragon himself may have had something to do with it, and that his influence is corrupting the monarch in question.

Sundrop, however, thinks the people can believe whatever they want.

While his position gives him plenty of wiggle room to lavish himself with as much luxury as he desires, truthfully he’d much rather be outside the kingdom walls than in them. No, his heart lies with the wilds of Hyde’s Crossing’s ancient forests. His hoard isn’t even as extensive as it should be, consisting of a few plushies, puzzles, and children’s toys here and there, it’s oddly… empty?

So as much as he… appreciates the fluidity, he spends most of his time trying to keep his distance from Farqur Kingdom as often as possible. Before he has to return.

When he isn’t on his perch at the king’s beck and call, he’s running into random adventurers and the odd monster hunter left and right as he continues to peruse the wilds and stir up mischief as per usual. Most of them have been called to action as of late due to the influx of shades razing settlements to the ground when they’ve been left unchecked for far too long, rising to the challenge in the hopes of scoring money to keep themselves afloat.

There have been a few stinkers regarding interactions here and there, but making new friends is still endlessly fulfilling and entertaining on the occasion that they’ll let him get close enough to actually mingle with them proper. He’s content to share stories of his findings and across the land, landmarks, places of interest, the best places to sun oneself and the loveliest fishing spots!!! This boy loves to know people and be known!!!

He never sticks around long enough to say goodbye however. Always leaves in Farqur’s general direction in a big hurry at odd beats in the conversation. Odd fellow. And he never actually clocked where his companion was from, so the chances of them meeting again are slim…

He seems very flighty for someone so pleasant…

#bzkt barf #fnaf smaugust #fnaf sun #dragon au #dca fandom #fnaf security breach #fnaf sb au #fnaf daycare attendant #art #artistsontumblr

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hannieehaee · 8 months ago

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Can I request a Mingyu fic with food play ? Him with the meringue in nana tour had me thinking wild thoughts ..

18+ / mdi

content: established relationship, mentions of sucking fingers, afab reader, mentions of eating out, nipple play (f receiving), usage of food in the bedroom (whipped cream), smut, this is purely foreplay, etc.

wc: 469

a/n: mingyu would 100% do this convince me otherwise

masterlist

having a foodie for a boyfriend came with many perks.

for one, he was always cooking for you – even in situations where you'd already eaten yet another meal prepared by him. he would always be willing to teach you how to make any recipe. he was amazing at picking out the best restaurants to go to no matter what side of the world you found yourselves in. and lastly, he knew very versatile ways in which to use food.

that last point would've come with some judgment from you before having met mingyu, but ever since he introduced such a sensual act into the bedroom, you'd be lying if you said you hadn't become a fan.

now, mingyu wouldnt just carelessly bring dishes of food to your bedroom and eat them out of you, no. he had far more finesse than that. this was also not a regular occurrence, but more so reserved for special occasions.

sometimes mingyu would simply play around with you while cooking, feeding you food straight from his fingers as he watched you lick and suck every drop from them, his eyes filled with lust.

other times, it'd go further than that, leading him to fuck you in the kitchen, no more food involved.

when food actually made it's way into the bedroom, however, mingyu it'd usually be in the form of small pastries such as chocolate covered strawberries or whipped cream.

today, mingyu had chosen to have some fun with the whipped cream.

mingyu liked to get creative with it, going through the entirety of foreplay with you before finally getting you fully nude in order to really play with you.

kissing every inch of your body was already fun on its own, but it was extra entertaining when mingyu could see the goosebumps form on your skin from the cold temperature of the whipped cream, disappearing the moment his warm tongue licked its way through the sweet cream.

your most sensitive spots would be targeted by the cream, making mingyu chuckle devilishly at your gasps of surprise any time he licked or sucked at your skin. your nipples were one of the biggest victims of this, suffering through an endless loop of whipped cream followed by his insatiable mouth sucking at the sensitive buds.

eventually he'd make his way down to your cunt, chuckling at your shudders in anticipation.

he wasnt dumb, knowing he shouldnt actually get any food on your cunt. so he'd opt for licking anywhere but your cunt, causing you to grow more and more desperate at his touch.

this would go on endlessly, up until mingyu himself grew too frustrated at the close proximity of your cunt. the night would end with mingyu throwing the can of whipped cream aside to finally devour your pussy with no other distractions.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen #seventeen imagine #svt #seventeen oneshot #seventeen smut #svt smut #mingyu smut #mingyu imagine #mingyu x reader #mingyu scenario #mingyu oneshot #mingyu fanfic

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klikandtuna · 3 months ago

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Sky Clear Blue updates every Tuesday and Friday, but one week ago I snuck in a special little mini-chapter, unannounced. It had two illustrations, and I love them both 🥰🥰

Only nine (possibly ten) chapters left — come and get caught up, and ride this roller coaster to the end (which has always been planned, and yet the comments are jam-packed with careful guesses and wild speculation, which is endlessly entertaining for me 😁)!

#good omens #good omens crowley #good omens aziraphale #aziraphale #crowley #aziracrow #digital art #fanart #good omens fandom #ao3 fanfic #good omen fanfiction #good omens fic #good omens fanfic #good omens au #good omens fanart #good omens human au #good omens art #good omens fanfiction #happy pride 🌈

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penvisions · 5 months ago

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shield and spear {general! marcus acacius x weaponsmith! reader teaser}

pairing: general! marcus acacius x weaponsmith! reader

warnings: adult language, adult content, allusions to sex work, allusions to slavery, violence, fighting, blood, more to be determined!

a/n: just a little something my brain yelled at me to get down in response to gift we all received yesterday and how could i not listen?

-> navigation || main masterlist

There’s no use for anything other than food and drink. Energy and hydration. This is not a life any longer but a task set into the callous hands of a man that had been far too young to understand the duty and devotion it would endlessly call for.

There is no use for anything but fuel for his body to carry him through the next battle, the next fight, the next weapon should his give out or bend to another’s.

He knows how to fight with his bare hands should that happen though he doesn’t prefer it. The shield of a weapon in his hands allows him to claim his killings and bloodshed are in the name of those he serves and not of his own volition.

But he sees in your eyes that it makes no difference. A slight thing hiding in the shadows as you watch and tally the use of steel, of bronze, or iron, and tar. Of the things to keep fired stoked high enough to burn them all down to liquid and mold to your orders of weapons to be forged.

He sees the disappointment each time he’s sent to you for collection, the way your eyes longer on the sword he had been gifted from the stash your father had kept for himself. His right as a weapon smith.

But it’s no longer your fathers like you are.

An aide to the efforts of entertainment and execution. Of punishment and pleasure.

He recognizes your sweat soaked body as it’s coated in grime and as it’s coated in the marks men leave on your skin.

He’s never taken the open ended offer up for himself. Only ever calling on you for the supplies you are to provide for the arena. He feels conflicted about how much demanded of you, both professionally and personally but he has no sway in making changes, in altering the life you’re to live.

Until the day he sees you in the arena, with a sword of your own in hand and a pack of wild cats circling you with snarling, snapping jaws. Their large claws swiping at you as if you are but a tiny play thing for them. A meal for them, entertainment for the public, and a punishment for you.

‘What is the meaning of this?’ He demands, voice booming as he enters the cordoned off section of seats. The balcony that just out further that the rest of them lining the walls of the arena.

‘She is proving the strength of her weapons. Too many have chipped and shattered in the last batch.’

He recalls the battle in which the man is referring to so casually. Placing the blame in your work when it had been nothing but devoted. The weapons had been as skillfully crafted as any others you provided, but they had been at a disadvantage in the hands of his men. Not due to lack of materials or skill but of what they had been up against.

Flails and lances, stronger weapons in the hands of those they faced didn’t negate the strength of yours. But now you were facing those ‘consequences’ right before his very eyes down in the pit.

taglist: @pedgito @studioghibelli @sawymredfox @tuquoquebrute @hiddenbabynyc @joelsgreys @morallyinept @evolnoomym

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vinelark · 6 months ago

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🕷️ Recommend something of the asker's choice -- favorite identity shenanigans fic(s)?

i really was going to just recommend one, but i got...a bit carried away. here are two timkons, two superbats, some general batfams, and one absolute wildcard with svsss to cover every possible vibe here.

been a number and a name by @wynterstars, a timkon 90s period piece chock full of identity shenanigans and kon angst and platform boots; i adore the first two installments and am eagerly subscribed to the ongoing third installment.

call me cute and feed me sugar by @suzukiblu, a timkon wip in which tim, upon finding out kon is still relying on cadmus for room & board, accidentally-on-purpose becomes a 15 y/o sugar daddy. notably, kon does not know this rich tim drake kid is also robin.

the long hangover by @coffiocake, in which superbat somehow end up dating in all permutations before the full realizations hit; an excellent identity shenanigans longfic to settle in with for a night or two.

How to Date the Batman by @solomonara (+ the whole series), a superbat fic where most of the identity shenanigans are about them dating while other people don't know their secret identities; place of honor on this list for the chapter 3 jason & clark scene especially.

Say Uncle by @megaerakles, a batfam fic in which tim's harebrained fake uncle scheme gets even more harebrained when he hires jason todd to be his fake uncle; the multiple layers of identity shenanigans from tim pretending not to know who jason is + both of them pretending not to know tim is robin + tim actually not knowing jason is red hood yet are endlessly entertaining.

Top 10 Secret Identity Fails by @havendance, in which helena bertinelli is tim drake's new english teacher. cue a delightful fic of tim panicking for 2.5k words while helena is just trying to do her job (and worry a bit about robin).

love and bruises by @transdickiebird & @homobiwan, a laugh-out-loud and also genuinely sweet fic in which recently adopted jason todd thinks bruce and batman are two different people who happen to be dating each other, and jason is not thrilled about it.

wild card: The Best Luo Binghe by Neery, a svsss au in which pidw!luo binghe gets transported to a strange fertility celebration (fan convention), which is tbh a typical side quest for luo binghe until he meets a guy cosplaying as shen qingqiu, who has no clue he's talking to the real luo binghe. i think about this one every so often because 1) it's great and 2) it fully leans into the absolute bonkers metahumor potential of its source material. (which also means it will probably be incomprehensible if you're not familiar with svsss, but in that case just trust me that it's fun.)

[fic rec ask game]

#this is after i cut the list down. there were more #guys i love identity shenangians can you tell #thanks for asking for them 🫡#timkon #superbat #batfam #fic rec #ask meme

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cuubism · 2 months ago

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last year I saw this 1989 Dreamling art by @webonchin, became extremely obsessed with it, pondered and mulled over it for much time, and now ten whole months later I have a fic

my kingdom for a kiss upon your shoulder

Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling, Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Human, 1989 Hob Gadling and Dream of the Endless | Morpheus Meeting, Musician Dream of the Endless, Stockbroker Hob Gadling, Love at First Sight, Getting Together, New York City, Alternate Universe - 1980s, Queer Themes, Disillusionment, Explicit Sexual Content, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Depression, tfw you meet someone who makes you want to change up your whole life Summary:

Despite Hob's success on Wall Street, life is starting to feel meaningless. Limitless sex, drugs, and money should be endlessly entertaining but instead he's bored, he feels empty, like something's missing.

Something, maybe, like the beautiful, tragic musician he meets at a party, who opens more than one new door in Hob's life--and reawakens the buried longing in his heart.

Hob lies on the couch of the crowded apartment he’s found himself in for the evening, head tipped back over the arm. Pounding music thumps distantly around him. Dim lights. Warm bodies moving in blurs. He ignores it all. Picks up his vodka soda from the coffee table and takes a swig. Half of it runs over the side of his mouth instead of into it.

He’s… bored. What’s wrong with him that he’s bored surrounded by as much drugs, sex, and general debauchery as he could possibly want?

But he is. All that climbing for so long and now… he doesn’t know where he is. Why he’s doing any of it. The climb, the growth, was fun for a while. Chasing hunger, chasing more, that was fun. But now he has all of it. Supposedly.

He sighs. Pours the rest of his drink inelegantly into his mouth. If he wants another one he’s going to have to get up. He doesn’t really feel like getting up. He feels like merging himself with the couch instead.

The party spins on around him, as it always does. Not everyone’s feeling as burnt out on sex, drugs, and debauchery as Hob is.

He could go track down some coke, he thinks hazily. Someone here’ll have some. Maybe it would kick his energy back up.

He just feels kind of tired at the thought.

It says something bad about the point he’s reached in life that even cocaine isn’t doing it for him anymore.

“This is very dull,” says a low voice, and a man slumps down beside him, sitting on the floor and leaning back against the couch. He tilts his head back, looking up at Hob. “Do you think so?”

“Yeah,” Hob says, and then does a double take as he catches a proper look at the man.

Christ but he’s gorgeous. Nothing like the men Hob would normally see at a thing like this—nothing like Hob himself—with their fashionable suits, slick hair, slicker smiles. This man is lithe and sprawling, like a wild predator, stark black and white lines, spiky hair, dark makeup, studs flowing down his ears like raindrops. Clever eyes. Long fingers clutching a cocktail that he doesn’t seem particularly interested in.

Hob is instantly fucked.

“I was promised good drugs and better sex and I’m bored on both counts,” the man continues. He takes a sip of his drink, and grimaces.

“That why you’ve come over here?” Hob asks. “Because I looked equally bored?”

“Exactly.” He offers the drink to Hob. “You should try this.”

Hob takes it. It’s… very blue. “What the hell is this?”

“There was a girl working the bar… very drunk. She said she would make me her ‘special potion.’”

That sounds… questionable. Hob takes a sip, and chokes. “Christ.”

“I witnessed her pour in vodka, Prosecco, and tequila. Blue Curaçao—for color, of course. And maraschino cherries.” He plucks one out of the glass by the stem—there are about seven of them total—and eats it.

“What the fuck.” The stuff’s revolting. Hob takes another sip. “That’s alcohol poisoning in a glass.”

“It’s been one of the better parts of the night,” the man says.

Hob returns the glass, and the man tosses more of the drink back, his throat working. Hob’s just drunk enough to not attempt to stop staring like a creep. He wants to ask him if he wants to get out of here, or even just to steal away into one of the many spare bedrooms—it wouldn’t be out of place at a party like this, hell, Hob could drag him into his lap on the fucking couch, everyone’s far too drunk to care—but propositioning this creature for a mere hookup feels like wearing an Italian suit to mud wrestle. What a waste of a perfectly-made thing.

How did something like this wind up at this party?

“Who’d you come in with?” he asks, as the man plucks another cherry from the glass and delicately bites it off the stem.

“Someone who gave me a rather mediocre blowjob after a show,” he says. “I suppose I thought I would find better here, but I was mistaken.”

“Fifty-fifty shot on that, I’d say,” Hob says. Based on personal experience. Sometimes mediocre is good enough. Sometimes sex, regardless of quality, is good enough. For a while it has been. He’s not so sure anymore.

“I dislike betting,” says the man. Then stretches up a limp hand to shake Hob’s. “If we are to commiserate, perhaps names are in order. I am Morpheus.”

Morpheus. What kind of name. Though he had said at a show. A performer of some kind? “Hob,” says Hob, shaking his hand despite the awkward angle.

“Greetings,” says Morpheus solemnly. “You are the first man I’ve met tonight who has not tried to impress me with inanities. I am indebted to you.”

Hob tips his head back against the arm of the couch again with a sigh. “Too tired for bullshit. What’ve people been saying to you, then?”

“I have been taught much,” Morpheus says seriously. “Thrice I have been ‘educated’ on the great promise of ‘mortgage-backed securities.’ The reactions to my disinterest ranged from offense to outright concern for my sanity.”

“I think they were just trying to get in your pants,” Hob tells him.

Morpheus frowns. “The finance lecture was not helping their case. In fact, with each passing minute, I became more aggressively repelled.”

Hob laughs. “You’re on Wall Street, baby,” he says. It comes out kind of slurred. “Only thing more important than the size of a man’s dick is the size of his portfolio.”

Morpheus hums in consideration. “Neither of those has a direct correlation to talent.”

“Try telling them that,” Hob says.

Morpheus sits up straighter against the couch, leaning his head on his arm to study Hob. “I suppose I should ask about yours.”

“You’re too pretty for me to be tacky like that,” Hob says honestly. Maybe he’s a bit more drunk than he thought.

“Am I?” Morpheus seems pleased.

“So pretty.”

“Hmm.” Morpheus rests his cheek on the couch cushion. The tips of his hair brush Hob’s hip. His eyes are so liquid in this light. Hob wonders if he’s hallucinating his existence.

He reaches out, mesmerized, to touch Morpheus’s hair. Morpheus doesn’t stop him. He lets Hob pet him, eyes falling shut. His hair is tacky on the ends with hair spray, but soft underneath.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” Hob says, and Morpheus hums. “All those self-important stockbrokers trying to impress you with their convoluted financial instruments… they just want to hide that it’s all really a scam.”

“Is it now?” says Morpheus. “I was under the assumption it was legal.”

“Something can be a scam and technically legal. Oh, it’s all very clever. But it’s just building money on top of money with nothing real to support it. Kick out the base of the tower and it’ll all go into free fall.” He makes a whistling, falling sound, and Morpheus smirks.

“And I suppose you are better than all this.”

Hob chuckles. “Oh, no. I’m a money-grubbing little vermin, too. Just letting you in on the game. How it’s not so serious.”

“Hmm. I am a musician,” says Morpheus. As Hob figured, then. “I’m afraid it’s as serious as death.”

“Hence the all-black ensemble and the makeup,” Hob says.

“Indeed.”

Hob wants to hear Morpheus play. Or sing, or whatever it is he does. He bets he’d be exquisite. Divine. Hob can imagine those lips pressed to a microphone. Or those long fingers on guitar strings.

“Do you want something more interesting than alcohol?” says Morpheus.

“Why, you still bored?”

“Less and less so.” He pulls from his pocket a small bag of pills and hands it to Hob.

“You brought your own drugs to a party where you were promised drugs?”

“Promises cannot be counted on,” says Morpheus seriously.

“What is it?” Hob asks, then decides he doesn’t care, and takes a pill, chasing it with the watery last drops of his drink, which is a terrible idea, but then, he’s full of them.

“Ketamine,” says Morpheus. Oh, great, Hob thinks. Morpheus takes it back from him and takes a pill himself. “It occasionally makes me feel less like I am going to hurl myself from the balcony.”

He doesn’t seem to be joking. “Good for something, then,” Hob says. “Why do you want to jump off the balcony?” He still has his hand in Morpheus’s hair. He honestly can’t believe he hasn’t propositioned him yet. That’s not like him. These parties are usually only good for quick, casual sex. He even thinks Morpheus would probably agree, and yet.

“The state of things,” says Morpheus. He has such a deep, solemn voice. Hob wants to touch his mouth, or throat maybe. Okay, this is already not going so well. “And the state of my heart.”

Hob pets his hair again. Morpheus leans into the touch. “Writing songs about yearning and angst and stuff isn’t fixing it?” He can well enough guess what Morpheus’s music is probably like.

“No,” says Morpheus. He seems to really think about it. “I think it is making things worse. Perhaps I will try manipulating the financial markets instead. Is that giving you existential fulfillment?”

“There’s only so much money you can make before it starts feeling stupid,” Hob says. Maybe he should just throw all his cash out the window and go live in the woods or something. Carve figurines out of fallen trees. Probably do more good for the world, not that that’s ever been a focus of his. “Maybe it was always stupid.”

“No solution has been found for us yet, then,” says Morpheus. “Would you care to go outside? I find that if you are high enough, the city lights look like stars.”

“You’re not going to jump off the balcony, are you?” Hob asks, suspicious.

“This is not the right locale for my dramatic end.”

Somehow, Hob actually believes him. Morpheus wouldn’t truly kill himself unless it could have the right effect.

Hob levers himself up from the couch. Oh Jesus, now the room is spinning. The pounding music is starting to feel louder, starting to thud through him. Feels good, though. Everything being bright and hazy.

He helps Morpheus to his feet. Leads him, hand in hand, out to the balcony. They lean against the stone wall, looking down at the street, dizzyingly far below, cars poking along like lines of luminescent ants, distant horns crying. Then up, out at the collision of skyscrapers.

Morpheus was right. The lights are spinning and twinkling, just like stars. It reminds Hob of the first time he’d come to New York, when he was looking for adventure, and to get a little rich—or a lot rich—and everything had seemed like it was glowing and buzzing and flying.

The air is clearer up here than down on street level, and Morpheus tips his head up, breathing it in. His throat is so long, his shoulders and collarbone so angular. He looks like he’s been starving. But the stud in his ear at least looks from afar like a real ruby. Intentional, then, to be skin and bones.

“I think I am tired,” he admits, still looking up at the sky. “Do you know that… all I had ever wanted was for someone to like my music. And now I have that and it has not fixed anything.”

Hob takes his arm and pulls him close. He’s feeling very touchy-feely now, which could be the drugs but could also just be Morpheus. He’s so pretty and he looks so sad, and his sadness is beautiful and all the more terrible for that.

“I could kiss it better,” he offers. It’s still not a real proposition. Hob’d just kiss his hand if that’s what he wanted. Or the sharp bone of his sternum under those hanging necklaces. Or kneel at his feet and kiss his thigh—

Christ. Hob’ll be lucky if he survives the night, at this rate.

Morpheus looks at him, eyebrow raised. But Hob must look serious about it, because he says, “Okay.”

So Hob leans in and kisses his cheek. And Morpheus smiles, a bright, truly happy smile, just for a moment.

“Do you wish to dance?” he says. “I do not usually, but I feel I may fall over if I move from this wall without something to hold onto.”

Yeah, the floor is kind of moving. And Hob will certainly not turn down having Morpheus in his arms. “You wanna dance to this shit?”

They’re playing some godawful thumping grating song over the speakers now, and Hob doesn’t think either of them is up to the kind of bouncing thrashing dance that would call for.

“I will sing something different in your ear,” Morpheus says.

So Hob draws him in, wraps his arms around his waist. Morpheus plasters himself to Hob’s body, mouth to the shell of Hob’s ear. He starts humming a low, melancholic song. Hob shivers at the brush of his voice.

They sway together with very little coordination. Eventually Morpheus starts singing, though Hob’s brain isn’t capable at the moment of taking in many of the lyrics. It’s something about longing, and losing things in a terrible fire. Hob presumes it’s one of his songs. Morpheus’s voice is gorgeous, low and hypnotic, and Hob closes his eyes as it rumbles straight through him.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs eventually, filled with a sudden tragic pain about it. “Please don’t throw yourself off the balcony.”

Morpheus chuckles. “Another time, perhaps.”

“Never,” Hob says vehemently, and clutches his warm body close. He might cry about it. Fucking drugs. “We should go get food. You’re so fucking bony I think might you die of an overdose if we don’t sop it up. You had that wretched drink, too. Christ.”

“You are worried for me?” says Morpheus, sounding touched.

“Incredibly. Come on.” Hob finally pulls away from him, with chagrin, and takes his hand. “This party’s shit. I’ll take you to get pizza.”

“Pizza,” Morpheus repeats, with a tiny smile. It’s gorgeous on his face. “Very well.”

One dollar pizza is one of New York’s greatest inventions, in Hob’s opinion. They find some hole-in-the-wall place barely a block from the apartment building, and stand outside the door, eating incredibly greasy pizza off of paper plates, and it’s fucking heaven. It might be the best pizza Hob’s ever had in his life—granted he’s still very high.

Morpheus is scarfing his down like all pizza on earth is about to be chucked into space. Poor bony thing. Hob just wants to feed him up until he stops looking like a skeletal waif that’s about to drop dead at a cold breeze.

And wants to fuck him, too. Yeah, that’s still there, even with Morpheus licking grease off his fingertips. It’s actually getting worse because of that.

“Told you,” Hob says. “Needed some bread to soak up the fifteen shots in that drink.”

“I think I may throw up,” Morpheus says, with the careful articulation of someone who very well might. “But I am enjoying it nonetheless.”

“Let me know and I’ll find you a bin,” Hob says. He’s had worse nights than puking on the street corner.

“Now I owe you sexual favors in return for this generous meal,” says Morpheus, folding the empty paper plate with surprising precision, considering his enduring level of intoxication, and sliding it into a nearby trash bin.

It says something about Hob’s own level of intoxication that he barely responds to this statement. “Oh, yeah, the whole four dollars of it. What does that get me?”

Morpheus scrunches his nose in thought. “Two kisses,” he decides.

“We’ll save it for after you’ve decided if you’re going to throw up.”

Morpheus giggles. He’s so cute.

Hob tosses his own plate, and takes Morpheus by the arm. “Come on. You can come back with me. I don’t live that far.”

“Ah, now the proposition,” says Morpheus, but doesn’t sound unhappy about it.

“The ‘make sure my new friend doesn’t get hit by a cab effort’, more like, but sure.” He feels kind of responsible for Morpheus now. If Morpheus actually threw himself off a balcony Hob would never forgive himself.

“Friend,” repeats Morpheus, sounding pleased.

“See, isn’t this better?” Hob says.

“Better?”

“You got to eat pizza and didn’t even puke yet, isn’t that better than killing yourself?”

Morpheus huffs. “Quite a dichotomy. If you recall you too stated that you felt your efforts becoming meaningless.”

“Yeah, but I’m not gonna jump out a window about it.”

“Fortitude,” Morpheus says, and it sounds mocking but Hob doesn’t really mind. Maybe it is fortitude, he doesn’t know. Maybe to Morpheus fortitude is gullibility, continuing to play the game when it’s long lost its spark and its reward. Hob likes the game, though.

“What will you do about it, then?” Morpheus asks.

“Dunno.” It’s the first time Hob’s really thought about it. Up until now, it’s been about chasing. Always wanting more. But now— now he’s basically at the top. Where he wanted to be. And... there’s really nothing there at all. “Leave New York, maybe.”

The words surprise him, even as he says them. Midtown is so bright, even at four a.m. It’s something Hob once loved about the area. About the city. But now he’s staring into Morpheus’s darkness. Into the ink stain of his hair against the glowing storefront lights, the sway of his body, graceful even while swimming in dissociation. And everything feels different.

“To go where?” says Morpheus.

“Back to London, maybe.” He has enough money to go anywhere. And yet, it’s hard to feel a particular point to anywhere. Where’d his sense of adventure go? His ambition? Somewhere it all slipped, in the glut of the present.

“I grew up in London,” Morpheus says. “It is too personal there, now.”

So he’s chasing something too. Or running away.

“Tokyo, then,” Hob says, as if Morpheus coming with him is a key part of the decision. “Is’at the furthest city from New York? Gotta be close.”

“It’s Perth,” says Morpheus.

“You’ve looked it up?”

Morpheus nods solemnly. “And from London: Wellington.”

“It’s settled, then,” says Hob.

“I am coming with you?” says Morpheus.

“Course.” Hob’s not going across the world by himself. Not anymore. He bumps his shoulder with Morpheus’s, squeezes his arm where they’re leaning together. “You’re coming with me.”

“We should go further, then,” says Morpheus.

“Antarctica?”

“Mars.”

Hob finds himself giggling, mirth rising in him like champagne bubbles. Morpheus giggles, too. It’s truly a ridiculous sound in his deep voice.

“They don’t have cool jackets on Mars,” Hob says, poking at Morpheus’s studded blazer.

“Ah.” Morpheus frowns. “Maybe not, then.”

That only makes Hob laugh louder, leaning on Morpheus’s arm, and Morpheus sighs, irritated to be made fun of, but doesn’t push him away.

“Come on, I’m here,” Hob says, steering Morpheus into his apartment building as it comes up. They make their way across the lobby and to the elevator bank, only a little unsteady, and then slump against the wall once the elevator doors close.

“I think I am very sleepy,” Morpheus says, tipping his head back against the mirrored wall as they go up, up, up the insanely tall skyscraper Hob’s for some reason chosen to live in.

“You think you are?”

Morpheus squints at the infinite tunnel being created by the opposing mirrors on the walls. It’s dizzying, more so now, when they aren’t exactly sober. He shudders and closes his eyes. “I would have to be connected to my physical form to know for sure.”

Yeah, Hob’s feeling that too. The walls are kind of tipping in at him, which is particularly uncomfortable when they’re mirrored. “I’ll put you to bed, sweetie.” He still really, really wants to bed him, more specifically, but he might also be about to fall over. He’ll rue the missed opportunity in the morning, but it can’t be helped.

“Sweetie,” Morpheus echoes, with vague distaste, and tips his head against Hob’s shoulder.

The doors slide open, and they stumble out into the hall. Hob somehow manages to get his keys in the door and get them inside without dropping Morpheus, who’s now using him to support almost his entire weight, and then gets them into the bedroom.

What follows is a dreamlike whirlwind of undressing, where the floor keeps tipping under him, where he tries to hold Morpheus up as he slips out of his boots and his bloody complicated jacket, his skintight jeans and even tighter shirt, helps take each ring off his slim fingers to leave carefully on the nightstand, and the pendants too, and gives him a t-shirt to sleep in, and Morpheus says, “Wait— I must—” and flees to Hob’s adjoining bathroom to strip off his makeup with some makeup wipes scavenged from Hob’s cabinet, undoubtedly left behind by a prior hookup. The silly thing talks about killing himself but still puts effort into skincare. Hob just shakes his head, then regrets it as it makes the room spin.

He strips down to boxers and undershirt and climbs into bed, because he is actually about to fall over, and soon enough Morpheus stumbles back out and collapses into the sheets beside him. For a moment they just gaze at each other in the dark. Hob means to do something, to kiss him, maybe, claim one of the ones that was promised. But exhaustion claims him first.

#dreamling #my writing #80s au #cw drug use #cw alcohol

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lucrativesoul · 1 year ago

Text

Espionage

summary: working in an underground crime syndicate, your job gets risky, but, the more risk, the more reward. you jumped the gun on your thievery through an art museum, and come across one certain guard who is adamant on stopping you in your path.

pairing: guard!leon kennedy x female reader

word count: 11.5k

warnings: smut, fingering, choking, slight degradation, dom leon

a/n: yall know i had to do one with tactical gear leon i mean come onnnn look at him!!! (patrick voice) i went a little wild with this one LOL i really thought it was gonna be my shortest work yet and here we are. the plot of this was inspired by Death Prefers Blondes by Caleb Roehrig! if you guys liked the idea of our mc's job here, i suggest you check out that book, its a really great young adult read! i had so much fun with this one, i really hope i didn't keep you guys waiting. i hope you enjoy, thank you endlessly for the support, and I will see you soon :)

Taking a deep sigh, you reclined yourself back as far as you could in the stiff chair, which wasn’t much. The light above you was flickering, to your annoyance, but you kept quiet about it, focusing instead on the rapid typing on the keyboard from the man in front of you. The room was cold, and you pulled your sweatshirt tighter around you. You knew to come prepared this time.

You hoped you would get out of here before the traffic rush. You hated having to come all the way out here, but, after all, it was your job.

To explain how you came into this would take too long, as you tell everyone, so simply put: Some connections in your life led to other connections, and those connections allowed you to quit your two part time jobs and become a full time criminal. Literally.

You met this man, Carlos, at the gym where you liked to spar with some of the trainers when they weren’t in sessions. Simulating a fight was not something you had expected to find a lot of entertainment in, but when you got up there in front of someone and were forced to defend yourself with blocks and punches and kicks, it introduced a whole new adrenaline into your world. Keeping up with your physical shape had definitely aided in your ability to be nimble, and your history of (attempted) gym consistency helped build muscle.

Carlos had pulled you aside after a sparring session with another trainer, impressed by your moves, and had told you he wants to see you put it to the real test. He offered you a spot in the gym he frequented (which was, to your horror at first, the sketchiest building you had ever seen in your life from the outside), paired you with a trainer who wasn’t afraid to throw real punches, and before you knew it, you could fight an array of builds and heights.

From there, you kept talking to people who knew people who knew Carlos, and he weaseled you into his line of work where he trusted you to go on the scene of whatever was the target, and sold all of your loot. He was your fence, you were his robber. Quite simply.

A real threat of danger hung over your head on every job, and you knew this well enough. There was always the chance of getting caught, considering every location had guards 24/7. There was always a chance you could get hurt; fall from a high location, the failure of equipment, get shot for fucks sake, but you loved the adrenaline it gave you. You felt on top of the world, and in the back of your mind, you knew this would surely be considered an addiction, but you didn’t care. Every new job upped the ante, and you needed more.

The second deep breath you took expanded your lungs, the stretch feeling good after not moving for several minutes now. You rolled your head side to side, hearing the crack, and turned your attention back to Carlos, who finally started talking again.

“I have buyers in Europe lined up for these.” He looked down at the desk, an array of shiny stones and metals bent in intricate shapes and chains laid out in front of him. Courtesy of yours truly. “A few are interested in the same piece, but they can argue with themselves, I’m only going to sell it to them, I’m not the mediator.” He sighed and pushed back in his rolling chair, pulling open a file cabinet and a manila folder.

“Where in Europe? Can we hand deliver?” You couldn’t help but grin slightly, and Carlos didn’t have to look up from his papers to know you were.

He shrugged. “If you want to risk receiving a chest cavity the size of a gold ball, knock yourself out.” He knew you were joking, and you knew the rules well enough. Knowing who your buyers were, and going within any sort of vicinity of them while knowing their identity was strictly off limits. He turned his head towards his computer again. “Venice. Nice.” He turned towards you. “Budapest. The usual.”

You nodded. You were expecting some sort of answer along the lines of that, so it wasn't too much of a surprise to you. Oh, how it would be nice to be in Europe, though.

“Here’s the deal.” Carlos put the folder of papers down in front of you, and you lazily scanned it, knowing that most of it was going to look like gibberish anyways. Carlos was the man in between here, you simply stole things. You didn’t deal with the numbers and the logistics. “The man who is in the battle for our largest emerald is willing to step aside and let our Venetian buyer take the cake, because he reached out with another job that he and only he wants to be in the running for.”

You scoffed. “Dude must be loaded then. A solo job?”

Carlos cocked an eyebrow. “He gave me parameters for the job, and I almost turned him down without even running it by you, to be honest.”

You sat up straight. “The fuck, Carlos? Give it to me, I can take it.”

He sighed and slouched back in his chair. You were honestly surprised that Carlos was not the one in your spot. He was insanely built and could easily take down four armed guards at once, but you never found out why he chose to be behind the scenes. At least you knew he trusted you enough not to put you in anything that would be instant death.

“There’s apparently an heirloom to this guy’s lineage sitting in a chamber room of the gallery downtown. He’s been trying to find a means to reach it and claim it back for years, but, according to him, the museum won’t budge on letting him anywhere near a buying price.”

You let his words sink in. “What’s so bad about that?”

Carlos sighed again. “It’s an art gallery.” He stared at you, waiting for you to get the point. “They have armed guards posted day in and day out. Alarms at every possible entrance and cameras watching every square inch of the place. It’s just not feasible.”

You shook your head. “Carlos, come on. I know you have access to the technical means that we need to do our surveillance. We can watch their route. We can track who does what nights and who might be the easiest to take down. I did that at the villa two weeks ago.”

“Yes, and you nearly lost your life. I was shooting myself in the foot for putting you out there.”

You shook your head again. Part of you was thankful that Carlos had the decency to regret his decision of accepting that job, and feeling remorse once you reported back that one of the bodyguards had you in a near death chokehold before you managed to, by luck, weasel free. Even you were still haunted by that. But you would never let it slow you down, and would never tell Carlos, as he would surely put you in safer locations. Which meant less fun.

“I’m just saying, now that it’s been done, I can do it again. And be careful about it this time. I want to do this Carlos, I believe I can.”

Carlos was silent for a moment, thinking over your words. He sighed.

“I want our people staking out on the perimeter the whole time. I don’t want to hear objections. There will be a team this time, this is not just somebody’s home. This is government and city property, if you don’t die, you and I are as good as dead in the prison system.”

You quirked a small smile. “Come on Carlos.” He lazily held eye contact. “You think I’d rat you out like that?”

He sighed and rolled his eyes, but you could tell he was fighting the urge to smile as well. “Be back here tomorrow at 12. We’ll start our prep.”

–

You, Carlos, and two other men were huddled around a plethora of screens deep in the trenches of Carlos’ office. One of the monitors had split screen CCTV surveillance, six cameras watching the main galleries and two hallways, one was a datamine of the encrypted content regarding the people employed to stand guard at the museum, and the others were floor plans of each floor and wing of the gallery.

The size of the place didn’t scare you, in fact, it only brought more excitement to your job. As soon as Carlos brought up the blueprints and started mapping escape routes and how to avoid camera sightings, you memorized it instantly. This would be a breeze.

“Here’s who we need to look out for.” He drew up a site that had profiles of each of the seven guards that do night duty. Their employee photos looked like mugshots. “These three guys guard the east wing, these two rotate between west wing and foyer since that is the smallest wing and closer to the entrance, and these two are usually staked out by the rear gallery.”

“You seem to already have this down, Carlos.” You mumbled.

He snickered from in front of you. “I’ve been watching already.”

You sighed through your nose. “Going to turn down this job my ass.”

“We’re expecting these two to be in the west wing the night of the heist. I’ve been watching, and they tend to rotate, but there’s a pattern. I’m sure it will be them.” You nodded, listening closely to his words. Carlos might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but you knew he didn’t mess around with ensuring the best possible route. “One stands in the wing while the other stands in the foyer. They rotate at the same time, so there is a small window when no one is watching the far end of the gallery.”

“How am I getting in there? Hanging out overnight?” It was a partial joke, but you never knew with this team.

Carlos shook his head, and diverted everyone’s attention to an isolated map, similar to the layout of the floor plan. “This is the duct system.” You stifled a laugh. You should have expected this. “Big enough for a person like you. The duct room is locked whenever no one is accessing them, and the only people that do are the janitorial team, and Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday are the only times they are sweeping the building.”

“Literally, sweeping.”

Carlos sighed heavily at your remark. “The system that is connected to the electronic lock is also connected to what controls the cameras and the lights. I can get you in there, but only in a very small window of time. It needs to be during the day.”

“The day.” You echoed. “So, I’ll be camped out in there for a while, then?”

Carlos nodded. You knew what you were about to get yourself into. It came with the job description, and before the job actually launched into action, you knew that familiar feeling of anxiety blossoming in your chest. You had been in the gym consistently, trying to find someone to mock a chokehold with you in the case that it happened all over again. If it did, you decided Carlos didn't need to find out.

You knew you were physically ready. The odds of going against a huge man didn't look great from the outside, but you were flexible, and fast, and if you could bounce around their sights, you could steer clear of any sort of altercations.

“Yes, you’ll be in there for a while. It’s the only way.” You nodded again. You knew there was no such thing as comfort in this line of work. If you get too comfortable, you might as well get ready to be comfortable in a jail cell, or in the afterlife. “We move in Thursday night. Just to be sure that the cleaning happens Wednesday and we won't get any surprises. You’ll enter at 4 PM. I’ll be watching all morning to decide what you should wear to make the least waves possible and so you can disappear when they close at 6. Regular day employees stay until 7:30, then the guards move in, but we can’t make our moves until well after sunset.” Carlos was looking mostly at you, as the other teammates he rounded up were just going to stake out the perimeter. “You know the prep. Make sure you last while you wait.”

–

You spent the next week in the office watching everyone’s moves. The guards followed a monotonous routine in which areas they patrolled. Odd, considering they might want to watch for corners where people could stay hidden.

They all stuck to their schedules, no employee stayed later than an hour and a half after closing, guards immediately did a sweep of the whole building for the lame thieves who attempted to hide in bathrooms, before they stuck to their positions, and that’s where they stayed for the night, until 5 AM. You were positive you had this down now, there was no way you could be wrong.

There was, of course, but you preferred to pretend otherwise.

The guards rotated as predicted, and with every step they took every passing day you grew more confident in this job. That person who was commissioning this should be well willing to tip generously considering the amount of prep taking place.

You swallowed the lump of anxious nerves, pushing yourself into your work mindset as you sat outside the museum, the breeze cooling down your heated skin. Carlos had been keeping watch of the patrons since opening, and he concluded the appropriate outfit for you to don would be a tan hoodie, light wash jeans, and you didn’t have many options in the way for shoes, a simple pair of white sneakers having to do the trick. You knew they would be watching at the door, a metal detector as well as bag checks were mandatory, so you couldn’t risk a bag, but you had all you needed strapped underneath your clothes to your second skin layer– a skintight bodysuit, equipped with maximum breathability and flexibility– and all of your weapons holstered as close as they could get.

With nothing else except your phone (which was off) and wallet (with a fake ID), you walked up the steps, blending in with the bustle, but knowing well enough to not look too suspicious. You knew the rest of your team was around the perimeter, out of your view, and you were going to hear from Carlos for the first time when it was necessary for you to hide. He was never on location, he was seated safely in his office, every screen lit up with hacked CCTV footage and an in-ear device to communicate directly to you.

You took yet another deep breath in. You got this. You had to.

You knew you had time to kill while you waited to hear from Carlos. It couldn’t be right away, that would look too unnatural if you made a beeline past too many priceless works of art. So, not begrudgingly, you strolled through the galleries, admiring the timeless art, feeling inspired, excited, the sun streaming in through the glass ceilings of some of the halls.

It was mostly quiet, the murmur of people surrounding you, discussing what they were looking at, the occasional kid running by. As much of an admirer you were, you could feel the adrenaline coursing through your arms and hands, dying to get started. But, as Carlos taught you well, patience was a virtue, and if you rushed things, it could get bad, and fast.

After a lap, which lasted close to an hour, you sat on a bench in the west wing. You knew this was close to where you needed to be, and it would be easier to stay close in case the window of opportunity arose when you weren’t expecting it, which was typical.

You toyed around with a pamphlet you had picked up near the entrance, still keeping an eye out for any employee, or any guard, which would be out of place at this time. It was nearing 5:30 now, and they were going to be closing in 30 minutes. Your heart rate quickened at that thought, knowing they were going to be sending employees to do loops and tell people their time was being cut short. You slowly straightened your posture, trying not to look too alert, trying to calm down–

“--in, come in. Connected to base, CCTV footage overrode, stations manned.” You heard Carlos’ crackly voice through your in-ear, and you slumped backward, relieved.

“Copy.” You kept your voice low and mouth movements to a minimum. “I assume you know where I’m at.”

“Bench in the back left of the west wing. The duct room is also being watched. It has been looking clear for the last ten minutes, give me another five to make sure, then I will give you instructions.”

You gave a slight nod, knowing he could see you. You kept up your previous charades, reading the same script for the fifth time on the pamphlet, people watching, and employee watching. The next five minutes took way too long.

“Get up slowly and walk along the wall to the left. Someone is coming down the hallway telling people there is 20 minutes to closing. Let him pass you, acknowledge what he said, and let him get about 20 feet ahead.” You shifted in your seat, pushing yourself up. Taking another look at the paintings hung on the walls, you realized as you approached– this was the one you were meant to take. You were so tempted to stand here and look at it, but you didn’t want to draw a suspicious coincidence in the mind of the employee who would see you standing in front of it. One glance later, and you moved on.

“Excuse me,” A soft voice spoke from behind you. You turned around, and acted surprised. A short man with dark hair had a friendly smile on. “The gallery will be closing in 20 minutes, just a heads up.” You nodded a thank you, and promised to move on swiftly.

“Ten seconds, then when you walk through the aisle in between the columns, there’s a hallway to the left. You’ll have a really small window to duck into the door on the left side and wait while I override the door code.”

“Code?!” You whisper-shouted, taking care to keep your voice low. “This should have been something you told me earlier.”

“Don’t worry, I have access to it and can let you in. It will only take one more second, but you have to be quick with this door, you know that.” You sighed, knowing he was right. Your steps were quiet, but firm, and you caught sight of the small hallway he was talking about. “There’s no one behind you, but we can’t guarantee that’s permanent.” Oh, yes, you knew that was the truth. You wanted to turn around, but fought against it, not wanting to catch anyone’s eye.

Step, breath, step… “Go, now, hurry.” You careened quickly to the left into the hallway, knowing anyone would notice you if they walked by. “Two seconds…” Carlos configured the software to the door’s electronic lock as you approached and stood there, heart hammering. You pulled your sleeve over your hand. You heard the click. “You’re in, move.” You pushed down on the door handle with your sleeved hand and creeped into the room, wasting no time in shutting the door. You waited for the command before you moved. “You made it blindly. No one noticed you.” You sighed gently. “To your left, there's a switch. Flip the one in the middle. It’s the nightlight.”

You did as told, relaxing slightly now that you could see. The room looked exactly as expected. It was more of a closet, really. There was an electric panel on the wall opposite the door, a rack of cleaning supplies to the right, and in the left corner across from you, a large duct sock extending from a fixture that was taller than you. You had no idea where it led to, as it disappeared up into the ceiling, but you had a feeling that’s where you were destined to spend the next handful of hours.

You took your time inspecting the room, knowing there was going to be nothing quick about this next step. Behind the large fixture that filtered the air and sent it through the duct, there was a small passageway blocked by a vent grate. Carlos had told you vis in-ear to unscrew the large grate and tuck yourself in there. At least it was right next to the cooling system, and you could shed some layers. It would get hot, and quickly, in there.

Time ticked by slower than ever as you were stretched out in the vent, now loose from your jeans and sweatshirt. Your bodysuit was keeping you cool, and you managed your breathing whenever you remembered so you would be able to keep your core temperature as stable as possible. You ran over the plan once, twice, a thousand times, and maybe even drifted off once or twice, by the time you heard Carlos’ voice again, sounding angelic after all this time.

“Hey, you awake in there?” His soft, crackled voice sounded through your brain.

“As ever. What’s the time?” You whispered back, shocked at how far the smallest vocal sound carried through the metal tube.

“Close to 11PM. We have to get moving soon.” You nodded, knowing he couldn’t see you.

“Can I push this thing open? Can someone hear me from here?”

“Give me two seconds, I need to make sure I can disable central control of the cameras so no one else watching security can see. We don’t need any unnecessary backup here.” You let Carlos do his thing from base, and tried your best to stretch your limbs getting ready to move. “Okay, this will take a few minutes, but in thirty seconds, the rotation from west wing to foyer is going to start. Countdown, then crawl out as carefully as possible.”

Breathing steadily, countdown rapidly ticking in your head, you started at thirty, gripping the grate as much as you could once you hit one, and pushed outwards. You had managed to click the metal back in place behind you once you crawled in, but it wasn’t the most subtle sound. Now, it counted even more that it was timed right.

With a solid shove and a louder than you expected click (and a wince), and shimmied your way out of the vent, placing the metal onto the ground with the slowness of a turtle. You had no idea if anyone was going to open the door to this right now, so you just had to trust that the silence from Carlos meant that nothing was about to go wrong.

You stood up, sighing deeply when you could finally stretch out before getting to move for the first time in nearly 6 hours. The spandex of your bodysuit contoured with your body, and you felt unrestrained as you stretched out, ready to be as light on your feet as possible. There was a small holster on your thigh, where a retractable baton was strapped in tight, and one around your waist, holding onto three tiny knives– stainless steel– the closest thing that would get you through the detectors without being flagged. Fingers crossed they wouldn't need to be used.

“The rotation just finished, so in about ten more minutes, our window will open for you to come out and stay hidden. Remember where all the sculptures are layed out?”

“Yeah, I do.” You continued to stretch through Carlos’ words. “I’m ducking out of here at your command, softly shutting the door. I come quietly to the opening of the hallway and duck out to the right, hide behind a column and stay low.” You recited again, and heard Carlos give a hum of approval.

“Just hang tight for now, I’ll let you know when you need to start moving. Security override is almost done. Remember, they’re gonna try and reboot the system immediately, which will take another minimum five minutes, max ten. Be light on your feet, move fast.”

You steadied your breathing once again, flexing everything in your body to make sure you were adequately stretched out and ready for action. You had never felt more so.

“Exit the room in twenty seconds. Start counting.”

You pounced on your feet at the sound of Carlos’ voice after a few minutes, gloves on your hands (which had also been hidden in a pocket of the bodysuit), and gripped the handle, counting just to the pace you had been trained to.

“Move.”

You and Carlos reached the countdown at the same time, and you pressed the metal handle down and inched the door open, swiftly, but not enough to cause the hinges to make noise. You slithered out, and once you had the door shut again without a sound, you dropped down onto your knees, walking in a crouch to the entrance of the gallery.

You were hidden immediately by a column. You peeked out, knowing there wouldn’t be a guard in the aisle but checking anyway, and waddled over to the next column, feeling your heart rate increase with every step. Peeking around, you spotted the guard, who was walking slowly towards the middle of the west wing. He had his hands by his sides, gun holstered on his hip. Not much more than an average cop’s bulletproof vest on his body.

You waited for him to reach the center and do a lazy turn, back towards you, to run to the next column. Time was ticking, but as long as he stayed right where he was, you would be able to secure this artwork and disappear.

You reached the next column, and the next, all the while the guard was still turned, and you ducked back whenever he did a mandatory sweep of the area behind him. You could see the painting you needed from your current position. If Carlos had it under control, he could stifle the alarm system at the very second you used one of the knives to cut the cords and rip it from his ceiling holsters. You could tell on your first walk by this afternoon that it was nothing more than a heavy fishing wire, and it could be done soundlessly.

One more column, and you could see the guard from your hunched over position. You were pretty well hidden behind the column itself and a sculpture sat in front, and slightly to the left of it. You heard him sniffle, and shift his weight again before turning around, and crouch-running to the column that sat just to the right of the painting. This was it.

You had your head parked solidly right behind the column, watching the guard. He was still facing you, looking up at the ceiling, down all the obvious passageways, and then he turned. It was now or never.

You creeped forward, hand over the knife on your holster, ready to slice through the cord on the wall. You were waiting for Carlos’ sign that the alarms had been disabled. Nothing, but you had no time to wait. You had to try it.

You pulled the knife from the holster and pushed the blade out, gloved hand gripping the frame, and in two swift movements, the wires giving a slight shing with the cut, it was loose, no alarms, and you dropped back to the ground and ran.

Taking the same caution on the way back as you did on the way over, you stopped at columns to watch the guards, and by the tell-tale sign of him stalking forward once, you knew the rotation was about to happen.

You grew closer and closer back to the duct room; through the vents as your only way out.

Taking the opportunity of no guard in the hall, you went as fast as you could in a crouch, seeing the opening for the hallway mere feet away. It was home free. Another job done.

Still in the clear, your heart hammering, you dove forward into the hallway, not wasting anymore time. You reached the hallway, turned the corner, and found yourself staring straight into the barrel of a gun.

Stopping short, nearly screaming out, you could only stare as you tried to identify the person behind it. You couldn’t move, your limbs were frozen in place. You could not hear Carlos, you didn’t even know if he saw you cut the line. He had the alarms disabled, clearly, but where was he? And who was this man?

You couldn’t see the bottom half of his face. Behind the large gun he had pointed at you, he had a black neck gaiter covering from his nose down. His eyes were hard, eyebrows deeply furrowed, they looked blue in the dim light. His blonde hair was pushed off his forehead, stiff with gel. He was covered neck to feet in gear, a large, bulletproof vest and cargo pants, not another inch of skin showing. He was crouching to your height. Clearly, he knew you would be coming back here. What the fuck was going on?

He tilted his head in a mocking gesture at you, making fun of your momentary stupidity. You wanted to fight, but you knew better. If you drew attention now, you would be vastly overpowered very quickly.

“Looking for an easy escape?” His voice was deep and husky, and for a moment you thought this was someone on your team. But no, they were told strictly to stay outside under all circumstances. This was not someone trying to help you. He was trying to capture you.

“Who are you?” You whispered, praying that Carlos was listening, feeling more panicked that you couldn’t hear him.

He shook his head. He was not in the mood to be courteous. “Go to the door behind me to my left. If you make noise, I’ll kill you. If you fight, I’ll kill you. Go,”

Your breath hitched, you could fight him with a knife, but with the barrel aimed straight for your brain, it was no use trying right now. You needed a plan, and quick. But for now, you had to obey.

Your legs felt like jelly as you stayed low and walked over to the door, the stranger backing up and keeping his gun trained on you the whole time. When you approached it, you stood up, looking back at him. He nudged his gun forward in a go in gesture, and with a deep breath, you quietly pushed the handle downwards and walked in.

This was not the duct room, which was the door on the other side of the hallway. Why had you not seen this door, why did Carlos also not seem to know about this door? When you walked in, you for real almost choked this time, it was the goddamn control room. The very one that Carlos had overridden to let you get into the museum after hours in the first place. Oh, you were fucked.

“You thought you had it all planned, huh? I’ve been sitting here this whole goddamn time watching you. I saw you walk in, I saw you sit down, I saw you go into the hallway, I was waiting for you.” Your stomach ran cold, not knowing what to do now. Carlos was MIA. He surely must be frantic. Was he going to send the team in?

You were staring straight ahead at the vast array of monitors, way more than Carlos had. Every inch of the museum was being watched. You saw the screen with the duct room hallway. It was in the rightmost corner. The control room door was hidden from this angle. This room had been scrubbed from blueprints. You would have seen it, you know it.

The chair in front of you was pushed out, most likely from this man standing up to meet you when you returned. A coat, issued with the museum’s logo, was draped over the chair. You could see a nametag pinned to the front. Leon S. Kennedy. That name did not sound familiar.

You squeaked out when the barrel of the gun hit you square in between the shoulder blades. “Your buddies can’t save you now, you know. Next time they try to do this, they’ll have to do more than just some book research.”

You took a steady breath, urging yourself to sound more collected than you felt. “Don’t act so high and mighty, Leon Kennedy.”

He scoffed. “Don’t act so fucking smart because you know how to read.” He used his gun once more to push your shoulder so you could spin around and face him. You could only stare as he maintained his composure. His eyes were not softening up. “Did you think you could be in and out with this one? Just like all the others?” You tried to fight it, but you felt your face scrunch in confusion. How does he know about the others? He made another sound, like a laugh, and you could almost see the outline of his cocky smile underneath his mask. “Don’t act like you stayed off of anyone’s radar. Your little fence isn’t exactly a low profile criminal in the underground market.” Your stomach sank. He knew about Carlos. He knew about the whole ring, he had been watching you!

“This was… Is this even a real job?” You spat out, feeling more and more of a struggle to breathe.

Finally, Leon put down his gun. He knew he had you under his fingers. He crossed one more step to get in your face, looking down at you. “Like I said… Your buddies need to be more careful with what they decide to take on.” He muttered at you.

Something clicked inside of you. It was a life or death situation, and there were no more good outcomes. With the swiftness of air, you shot your right hand up, connecting your fist with the side of Leon’s jaw. It caught him off guard, but it did no more than knock him back a couple of steps. That was a hard jaw.

You used those two seconds to your advantage as you sprung forward, using the chair behind you as leverage as you kicked into his chest with both feet, sending him flying backwards, knocking the gun loose from his grip. He almost fully lost his balance, and you rocketed forward, finishing him off and wanting to send him straight to the floor.

It seems, though, you underestimated how well trained this man might be. He never hit the floor, and from the second you sent him reeling backwards, he was already connecting the distance between you two again, and he ducked when you sent another leg flying at him. He hooked your other leg in his grip, turning you over and forcing you to fall to the floor on your back, effectively rendering your lungs useless.

You gasped for air, finding the strength to fight back, and before he could unlatch himself from the leg he had a grip on, you tightened your other around his throat, tucking his neck right under your knee, and you squeezed hard.

Finding air again, and still keeping Leon in a chokehold, you pushed yourself up, and rolled the both of you over, so you were now essentially sitting on top of him, pushing his body into the ground as you kept him senseless. The dominance didn’t last long, as he pushed himself up, slamming you, once again, into the ground, loosening your leg, and escaping.

Your attempts at punches were meek, and he gripped both of your wrists in his hands and pinned them down; it was useless. It was over. During the altercation, most likely while he was being choked out, his gaiter slipped down, now wrapped around his neck. The rest of his features match the top half, and god dammit why did you have to make enemies with a man who looks like he should be on display in this very place?

“You should stop trying to fight me.” He grumbled from over you. You knew he had the upper hand now, definitely physically, but you weren’t going to stop.

“And just accept defeat? Accept whatever is going to happen next?” Despite knowing it would be useless, you attempted to break free from Leon’s grip anyway. It resulted in a tighter grasp around your wrists, and you winced. “What do you want from me? You set this up just to catch me. But you’re on the inside, too. You can’t nail us without incriminating yourself.”

If it was even possible, his face hardened further. He lowered his body to bring his face inches from yours, and you found yourself not turning away from his gaze.

“Maybe that’s just not what I’m after.”

The sentence brought your mind to a complete blank. What else could he be after? If he was employed by the museum you were currently trying to steal a painting from and sell it for thousands, shouldn’t he want to take you down to protect the art? Wouldn’t he want to put you and your team in jail for the crimes you all have committed?

“So, what? You just wanted to take me down? Try and make me fail? To prove something to yourself?” You were desperate at this point to hear something from Carlos, and the more time went by, you were sure Leon must have done something to the connection. Since he already knows… “Why can’t I hear my team?” You barked at him.

He quirked a cocky grin once again. “I don’t need you calling for unnecessary help. I’ve got it taken care of.” With one harsh movement, he adjusted both of your wrists so they were being held by his left hand. He then used his right to rip the in-ear out, making you cry out when the tape was torn from behind your ear. He kept tugging the cord until the tiny transmitter, which was clipped to the inside of your bodysuit, just below your shoulder, was out in the open, and tossed it aside. He was putting increasing pressure on your wrists, and you couldn't help but writhe.

“Let me go, I don’t get why you’re doing this.” You started a struggle again, but he shut it down swiftly. “Why me, Leon, why us? Surely we can’t be the only underground heist group within the vicinity, surely someone else must have tried to break in here.”

Leon stared at you for a moment from his place above you. His expression gave nothing away about his thoughts, and it was aggravating you endlessly. He thought he was all that. You were pissed off, because you also felt like that was true. He did manage to fumble your route and tackle you and cut you off from comms. Asshole.

He lifted himself off of you slowly, and you felt the pressure around your wrists disappear. He was straddling you now, his large legs encapsulating you on both sides, his arms looked massive from this angle. His vest was littered with utility pouches, and you weren't sure you wanted to find out what was in them. The gaiter was slack around his neck, and you felt so tiny, submissive, and rapidly heating up under his half lidded gaze. You can’t believe you went over his employee profile. You would have remembered a face like his.

“You’re right. You are not alone in this ring of underground syndicates, frankly, not even the first to have been here. I took on a few of them. I’m not actively working to destroy the network that you work out of, I’m just doing my job. Why should I let thieves get away with it just because they’re good at what they do?” You stared at him as he spoke. You couldn't believe how much information he truly had, and how much more he would surely not reveal to you. “I didn’t care about the other bunch, they were all dirty criminals doing it for the money with no real talent and no morals, so, fuck them, I’ll bust them when they step into my territory.” He lowered himself again, and now he was holding himself above you, arms on either side of your head. He was staring straight down into your eyes. “But then you appeared on my radar. I was surprised to see a woman in this line of business. That’s not common. I had to watch you closely. Maybe my own ignorance made me think that you would be out of play quicker than you even started, but when I discovered you had taken down two men larger than me and turned around a chokehold that surely would have killed you, I couldn't help but be impressed.”

You couldn't stop the scoff that escaped your lips. “Fuck you. You don’t know what I’m capable of. I worked my way up to where I am now.” Your sentence was cut short when he placed a rough hand on your chin, holding it in his palm.

“Shut up.” You ground your jaw, holding back snarky comments that would put you in a worse position. His demeaning command twisted your stomach in an unfamiliar way. “When I noticed your skill, as you needed to throw in there before I finished, I saw a challenge. I couldn’t just let it go.”

No words came out of your mouth right away, still trying to process his. You shook your head in confusion. “Challenge?”

“I like a woman that can put up a fight.” Leon said nothing more, daring you to stay something in retaliation. You kept your mouth shut, unsure of what kind of response you should even give. You squinted your eyes at him, but he didn't falter.

“What kind of job even is this?” His grin grew. The anger and frustration mixed with something foreign in your stomach. You curled your toes instinctively at this feeling. “Setting me up for failure just to wrestle me so you can get a workout?”

He shook his head slightly, that glint in his eyes not fading. “It’s not all about me, you know. You’re my challenge right now, yes, but I see something in you. I want you on my side.”

“Your side? Are there sides to be had here?”

“Sure there is,” His voice dropped to a low whisper now. You realized in that moment how quiet the room was. After the altercation the two of you had, you concluded it must be soundproof. There would have been a guard here by now. “You can fight. You're a spy. You’re practically invisible. That would be so useful to me. With me. I can give you that, you won’t have to worry about the inevitable end of this.”

You finally brought your hands down by your sides, and he didn’t move to stop you. “Here? You want to offer me the occasional chance of action from the museum?”

“You said it yourself.” His gaze hardened once more, and you suddenly remembered how harsh he was towards you five minutes ago. “I’m on the inside. I’m just as dirty as you guys are.” You stared, fighting the urge to gape your mouth. Someone on the inside, working right under everyone’s nose? “With me, I can make sure you’ll never face the threat of being shut down. Thrown in jail for years, for life. Carlos can’t do that.” You felt a twist at the mention of Carlos’ name, hoping he was alright.

You hated yourself for even letting that thought flick across your mind momentarily. You and Carlos were a team, he taught you everything, yes, but he had no other ‘ins’ in the world to protect you from the law. You were on your own in the field. He just directed you.

Leon had the connections. Leon worked with them. There was a chance that he really could keep you safe.

“What’s…” You grit your teeth, and swallowed hard, hating this position. “What’s in it for me? I’d be losing what I worked for the last few years. Just to be under your belt now.”

He shook his head. “You’re not losing. You’re gaining.” He came dangerously close to your face, yet again, you didn't move away. “Trust me.”

With nothing left to say to him, your body only had one way to react. You quickly hooked your left arm around Leon's neck, holding him in close, and using all the weight you could muster to flip positions with him. You could see in his face he was almost expecting this from you, yet he let it happen, and didn’t fight it.

He let out a grunt as his back hit the ground, knowing his vest took most of the impact. You were now successfully above him, in between his spread legs, his arms splayed out on the sides. The arm that had been used as leverage around his neck was now holding you up, the other was poised threateningly at his collarbone, as if you were going to choke him at any second.

But now, over him, though you felt triumph, you were at a loss for words again, still so muddled about the situation. Leon let the arrogant smile take over his features.

“We’d make a great pair, don’t you think?”

A million emotions surged through your veins, making it even harder to focus, to find the right thing to say or do. The way he was looking up at you, those eyes, that face, you wanted to collapse and give it to what he was saying, but you would be damned if you gave in to any sort of manipulation from him. The job was already fucked. There was no money. It was a setup just to get you into his lair… for a lack of better word. He seemed to know the ins and outs of this building, yet, he was working underground for the same reasons, presumably, as you were.

Fuck it, it doesn’t matter. There’s no job. You wouldn’t leave Carlos behind, but couldn’t you pretend?

Your hand gripped the collar of his shirt. “What’s the negotiation?” You mumbled. You tried your best to keep the intimidating look in your eye, but you were afraid Leon never even saw it in the first place.

He breathed out a small laugh. It infuriated you, but sent a chill down your spine. “Can’t we worry about the price later?”

You sighed, and pushed yourself off of him using his body to boost you. He grunted. On your knees now, you said, “You did all of this to get me to work with you and you won’t even tell me what your prices are?”

He followed your lead, and pushed himself off the floor with ease. He was now sitting up, staring you directly in the eye. “I’ve got a different asking price right now.” His voice became low, and you stiffened. It wasn’t every day on the field that you were met with a master tempter. Leon knew what he was doing now, and it all started to make sense to you. Regardless of if he really wanted you on his team or not, he kept an eye on you for weeks, months potentially, he brought you in here for one reason, and maybe one reason only.

“What makes you so sure I’ll accept?” You whispered, not able to find the courage anymore to speak properly.

“I think I just know. Am I wrong?” He stared deep into your eyes, yet another challenge. The challenges never seemed to end with him.

And, despite everything, you knew he wasn’t. You could feel it inside of you, he was right. You were about to accept his not-so-professional asking price, and you wanted to hate yourself for even giving in, but you couldn’t. You just couldn’t feel anything except eagerness.

You breathed in shakily, frozen in your spot, wanting him to do something first, but he was just letting you fall apart slowly under his gaze, most likely enjoying watching your reaction to a simple stare. You ground your jaw together, resorting to only shaking your head. “Cocky bastard.”

He laughed out loud once. “You got that right.”

It seemed he had it now, not giving you time to start anything that you couldn’t move to do. With a solid palm, he pushed backwards onto your chest, sending you into the floor again. You caught yourself with your forearms and could only stare up at him as he towered over you on his knees, looking more intimidating than he did with a gun pointed at your face.

Leon brought one of his hands down to raid your holders strapped around your waist, pulling the knives free and flipping one open. Your breath caught for a second when he brought it to your neck, but then released even more unsteadily when he gripped your collar in the other hand and tore the blade through the spandex fabric of your bodysuit.

You gasped when the air hit your skin, shielded by the temperature regulating fabric, feeling more exposed than you ever had on a mission before. Of course, you figured, you decided a long time ago that the most comfortable way to don the bodysuit was with as little resistance as possible, so as soon as Leon tore the fabric apart from the middle, yourbare chest was on display for him. You felt heat run through your body, from embarrassment and the arousal that you couldn’t stop.

If it was even possible, his eyes grew darker with emotion previously undetected, and his grip on the bodysuit fragments that he was holding onto tightened endlessly, still tugging them off your body as far as they could go.

He let go, your sleeves still intact, nipples hardening, before continuing to tear it apart lower, until you felt the crotch seams rip right under you, and as shocked by his actions as you were, you were doing nothing to stop it. You tried to tell yourself you wanted to stop him, but you knew yourself better than that by now. He would have been on the ground before he could have even held the knife to your throat.

If he was a mind reader, it wouldn’t have shocked you to find that out anymore. “Just gonna lay there and let me do this to you? Maybe I overestimated your skill.”

It was one thing to be flayed out by someone you didn’t know, another to be held at gunpoint during a mission, but an entirely different field to be insulted by the person who performed all said acts.

“You don’t know anything about my skill. I guess saying you’ve been watching me was a lie.” You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, not even caring about your physical state anymore. Using your left arm, you sat further up, pushing Leon backwards with your right, and delivered him right onto his ass. “You think I can’t take charge of a situation?”

He looked up at you, not ready to physically retaliate. “I think you can, only when the person is letting you do so.”

You grabbed a hold of the gaiter still slung around his neck, and suddenly you were inches away from him. “I’m not letting you make me think that you’re allowing me to do anything. If watching me wasn’t a lie, you’d know I’m a lot more capable than what I’ve just let you do.”

He tilted his head sideways, clearly liking the new lack of distance between the two of you. “Then prove it.”

You decided to make a bold move. Repositioning your legs so you were now on top of him, you dropped yourself to sit right in his lap, feeling exactly what you were expecting. He groaned, finally not expecting something from you, and with a victorious smile, you fell lower, grinding into his erection with all your body weight. His hands instinctively went to claw at your thighs, the grip so tight it almost stopped you from moving, and his breathing became ragged.

“You give this treatment to every criminal that breaks into here?”

Leon laughed through the breaths. “I never get to them first to do this.” As you continued to gyrate on his lap, his eyes fell shut and his head rolled back, thumping on the wall behind him. His hands snaked up your legs, fingers toying the edges of the ripped fabric of his doing, and he pulled it further, trying to unsheath you as much as he could.

“Then allow me to make sure the rest of your criminals are forgettable.” You snaked your arms around his torso, letting him pull you loose from the sleeves of your bodysuit. Now free, you kept your grip firmly on his biceps, your own body weakening at the realization of how strong they felt.

As badly as you wanted to free them, as badly as you wanted to see him underneath his armor, you wanted to see it when he took you. You needed to look up at his gear and see his hardened face, the strong bodyguard who made you submit.

He continued with his deep groans the more you ground down on his hard cock, and you could feel it yourself through his pants. Leon’s efforts made it so you had barely anything protecting you, and all that stood in the way were his thick pants. You wanted to free him from his constraints, but you wanted to be a tease about it.

“I hope you had a plan for this, because I’m not obeying someone who wanted to kill me.” You had yourself steady by gripping his knees with your hands, leaning back, his eyes never peeled away from your breasts, out in the open.

He took a hand and placed it over your hip, large and warm, and it sent a wave of heat straight to your core, sure you were wet through your panties now.

“So now you want me to take charge, after going on about your own strengths, huh…” He squeezed his hand over your hip, and it made you squirm.

You basically hopped up and slammed yourself down on his lap, just wanting to make him suffer. “You’ll do what I say, and we’ll see who's listening to orders.” Your motion had made him whine as predicted, and you carefully studied his face as it was scrunched up, mostly in pleasure, probably some in pain.

“Then what?” He half whispered out at you. “Tell me what to do, then.” His hands made their way up to your chest, squeezing delicately, but enough to arch your back into his touch. His other was seated on your thigh, the pressure of his fingertips increasing by the second.

You leaned in close to him, inches away, enough to taste him if you so pleased, but you waited. “Why don’t you treat me like the criminal I am?”

A shudder visibly flowed through his body at your words, the back of his head hit the wall again. The hand on your thigh was now on your throat, not tightening just yet, but with enough sturdiness to keep you in your place. Your whole body was on the move now as Leon shifted his weight, and once again, you found yourself with your back on the floor, staring up at him towering over you. Though you had already been aware of it, your nakedness became prominent in this moment, realizing Leon’s neck and face were all you could see of his skin.

“Don’t think I’ll be gentle then,” He barked out at you, having shaken off the pleasure from you grinding down on him.

You smirked, watching him finally take his gloves off, having nothing to say, but only (oddly) excited about the new course of action. He stopped bothering with trying to get the rest of your clothes off, having opened up enough room for him to work in. You thought he was most definitely either going to push your panties aside for access or cut them off, and as turned on as you knew you would be if he did the latter, you still had to leave this place after this.

“Take my belt off.” He was rigid after flinging his gloves aside, giving you orders to obey. Keeping your back square on the ground, raising only your arms, your fingers worked swiftly to undo the belt buckle, pulling the leather through the metal and setting it free. You looked up into his eyes, which were boring holes into you, and when he made no other movement, you continued to his button and zipper.

When your hand made contact with the fabric you saw the jump his cock made at the friction, even barely there. He let out a soft, shaky breath at you working it open, never losing his composure. The rigid tent right in front of your face was long and thick, and you had to get your hands on it faster than yours could work themselves.

Finally undone, you pushed the opening aside and pulled down the elastic band of his underwear, his facial expression never changing, up until you wrapped your hand around the base of his dick, now out in the open, and he groaned. He wrapped one of his own hands around your wrist, a plea not to move it, but you ignored it, and brought yourself to a sitting position so his head was lined up with the tip of your tongue.

“You want to suck it too, like a whore?” Leon’s other hand found solace in the back of your head, fingers tangling up your hair to get a steady grip. The pull made you wince, but you silenced the feeling by running your flat tongue along the underside of his dick, swiping along the head and letting the precum sit in your mouth.

A deep sigh was the result of your actions, and everything he did only egged you on. You felt him adding force to your head to move, but again, moved at your own pace, letting your tongue trace the indents and veins, letting your hand massage the base while your other was on the floor, holding you upright.

The anticipation alone of this moment could have filled your mouth with saliva, and the throbbing cock in front of you only added to help it. You opened your wet mouth and seated your lips around the tip, feeling that push on the back of your head again. Your tongue swirled endlessly, dragging up and down the slit, pushing more of the precum to the back of your throat, and finally, when you decided you had had enough, you slid his length as far back as you could go, a heavy breath coming from above you when you bottomed out.

His grip on your hair became shaky, and his breathing never righted again the more you took him into your mouth, bringing him closer to orgasm. The friction lightened up with your saliva around the base, your hand becoming covered in it, the sickening sucking noises sending sparks straight down to your pussy, which was begging to be touched, but you had to push Leon to the edge first.

You could feel his legs starting to buckle, but you pushed on, knowing he would stop you before he could cum in your mouth. As much as you wanted to bring him to that, you wanted to be pleasured by him first.

With one more deepthroat, stifling a gag and feeling his hand lift from your hair, he pulled himself out of your mouth, strings of saliva connecting his head to your lips.

He took a deep breath in, looking down at you, almost spent but so much more to give.

With no warning, his hand was back on your throat, pushing you backwards into the floor once more. This time, the pressure was enough to constrict your breathing slightly, and you wrapped a hand around his thick forearm.

“You weren’t getting off the hook that easily,” Even with the breathiness he was speaking through, his face still showed all the authoritative attitude that he had in the first five minutes of your encounter. At this angle, the shadows on his face made him even scarier, but you felt nothing except turned on by him. Strands of gelled hair fell forward onto his forehead, a glisten of sweat decorated his skin.

“Maybe this was your plan the whole time,” He continued, the hand on your throat not allowing you to speak, but giving you enough air to be satisfied. Your breath hitched when you felt him pull your panties to the side, and deliver a rough sensation to your sensitive clit. “You knew the treatment you’d get by crossing me.”

One finger, then two, and surely your slick was in a pool on the floor by now. His appendages had no resistance as they slid in and out of you, hitting your soft walls, arching your hips to get more and more, but he had you at bay, and he knew it.

“You like this, huh?” Leon brought himself closer to your face, lips just a hair away from yours, but he wouldn’t kiss you. “You like being treated like a slut?” You took another restricted breath in when he returned to your clit, massaging it in circles, making your pussy ache even more. “Answer me.”

A choked out sob came out of you before, “Yes, I do…” and you felt your face heating up at the force of making you degrade yourself.

“Yeah, I can tell, you’re so wet I should’ve just fucked you the moment I caught you.” He was growling at you now, and it did nothing but send you into pure bliss at his treatment. “Maybe you’ll learn another lesson or two, one they could never teach you.”

Between the stimulation on your clit and the hand on your throat, a tear slipped out of your eye, but you were anything but dissatisfied. He raised himself, removed his hand (much to your displeasure), and readjusted himself, cock lined up square with your heat.

“Open your mouth.” You did as you were told, and he spit directly into your open mouth, and at the distraction of that, he slid into you.

Your jaw hung slack as he made his way in, you could feel the way his cock was stretching your walls wide, your pussy was so wet it made it easier than you were expecting it to be. Your eyes rolled back, not being able to help the way your eyelids fluttered closed, eyebrows furrowing, fingernails surely cutting Leon’s skin through his sleeves where you gripped him hard.

The stretch was immaculate, it burned and it felt like you were on fire, but none of it made you want to tell him to stop. Skin to skin contact was made on your clit when he was all the way in, you felt so full you could barely breathe, and your clit was sending rocket fire signals to your brain, it made you writhe with the sensations.

You gasped, the drag out feeling just as good as the shove in, and you cried out through the constriction around your throat, “Leon… fuck,”

Leon grunted at your appraisal, you felt the fingers over your neck twitch, knowing he was holding himself back from using all the strength he had in his one hand. You tried your hardest to pry your eyes open, you needed to see him.

“You’re such a slut, letting yourself get fucked to get out of trouble,” He spit out at you in between hard thrusts and heavy breathing. You practically felt the tip of his dick hit your stomach every time he thrust in, and from the sounds alone, you knew it had you soaked. You already knew he was a big man, but watching him in his bulletproof gear had you even weaker than you were before, this big heavy guard taking advantage of you, using you, and you loved it.

Your legs wrapped around his torso, hoisting your hips up to feel more, get him deeper, if it was even possible.

You could barely even breathe, every move that Leon made inside of you made your head spin, every noise he made turned you to jelly, every thrust had you whining so hard you were sure you were going to lose your voice.

The pressure on your throat lifted, and the sharp intake of cold air down your windpipes made you dizzy. Opening your eyes, Leon was now back to his position on his knees, still fully sheathed inside of you, and with a slick motion, and the wettest sounds you had ever heard from yourself, he slid out, leaving you empty.

You didn’t even have time to process the movement before Leon had his hand on your arms and was turning you over, bare chest to the cold floor, and you unintentionally shuddered. Using your arms to the best of your ability to hold yourself up, you felt them shake violently, and knew they would give out any time soon.

Looking up, you saw Leon reach forward and pull his discarded jacket down from the back of the chair, sliding it under your head, and pressing you back down by the nape of your neck. You couldn’t help but moan.

Strong hands settled on your hips, and you had to bite the material under you to muffle the scream as Leon pushed himself back into you, every nerve on fire as he hit the deepest spots you didn’t know existed. This time, he was relentless, like he promised.

You could barely hear him through your own screaming and whining.

“Take it like a whore, I know you can…” A slap to your ass, more tears from your eyes. “Fuck, so good, you’ll learn now…” Hands in your hair, pulling your head up. “I’m gonna fill you up, like a fucking slut,”

Barely processing anymore, your head a mess and eyes full of tears, you only registered the small change when you felt his arm around your waist, fingers teasing circles into your clit while still pounding into your pussy, still getting wetter by the second. The new feeling had your legs spreading wider for him, further weakening you, your thighs shaking with a strong timber you know no man had ever given you before.

“L-Leon…” It didn’t even sound like words anymore at this point, but Leon got the idea. He pressed harder into the soft nub, making you bite back into his jacket and moan loudly.

“Come on, I know you can cum for me,” Two more thrusts had him in, and you felt the shaft of his cock pulsing erratically inside of you as he released his seed in you, not waiting for you to say he could or not, but knowing he was going to anyway.

The feeling of being filled to the brink was what send you over the edge, his fingers still making work and his dick milking itself dry inside of your tight walls had you clenching around it, ragged breaths taking your body hostage as white flashed before your eyelids, and Leon knew he had made you finish, especially in the way your body crumpled underneath him.

Swallowing hard, your throat dry, you slowly came back to reality, and your vision cleared. You felt hands on your waist, slowly rolling you over to lay on your back.

Leon was positioned over you, edge in his eyes long gone, face shiny and slick from sweating, all his hair nearly limp over his face. He looked like a completely different person.

“Are you alright?” Still not knowing if you can speak, you nodded, letting your mouth re-salivate. He pinched your chin delicately between his forefinger and thumb, moving your head to the side to expose your neck. “If I bruised you, I didn’t mean to.”

You shook your head. “It will give me something to cover my disappearance with.” You had no idea how long it had been, but with no contact to Carlos back at base, you wouldn’t be surprised if your entire team flanked the building at this very second to rescue you. Now how to get out with an entirely ripped bodysuit…

“Consider my offer.” Leon mumbled, clear enough to hear, but low enough to hear his exertion. “I was serious.”

You blinked slowly at him, not seeing his expression change at his offer. “If I accept, I’m not a criminal you’ll have to put in place anymore.”

At this, he smiled, and dipped his head down to kiss you again, possibly one of the only times he had that night.

“Honey,” He pulled away. “You’ll always be a criminal.”

#leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fanfiction #fanfiction #leon s kennedy #resident evil 4 #resident evil 2 #leon kennedy smut

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rush-the-stars · 11 months ago

Text

new tricks

pairing: yandere abyss prince kaeya x gender neutral reader

cw: dark content, kidnapping/capture, the reader is treated physically well but is still captured/being held against their will, mentions of a punishment, strange and toxic dynamic, mildly suggestive.

wc: 2.1k

a/n: dividers by @/cafekitsune!

this is just a tiny drabble. don't squint at worldbuilding or plot lol. i had this idea prattling around my head and wanted it out. one day i will write the dark long fic of my dreams but today is not the day. thank you to @/lorelune for taking a peek beforehand and assuring me <33

on the back of your neck, goosebumps ripple to life. a chill races down your spine. you know it well—as intimately as you know the brag of your own heart.

sensing him, you cast your eyes up in the reflection of your mirror to catch the shape of him behind you.

you didn’t even hear him enter your chambers. but you’d felt him somehow, known his presence. maybe known his gaze on you.

(it burns deep and vicious to know his gaze. to become accustomed and attuned to him.)

prince kaeya smiles knowingly.

the dark glint to his eye lets you know he’s in strange ways.

“you’re getting quite perceptive.” he muses. “if only you’d been so sharp when i first took you, maybe you wouldn’t be here.”

you were just a naive artist from mondstadt then. a child who knew the sound of the wind in the trees and the birdsong that rose into the sky early in the morning. you knew the golden hills and the valley and a sort of freedom that made you sing like those birds in the morning, too.

(in the dark, he asks you to sing. sing like you used to, he says. and when you open your mouth, you’re always terrified of what will come out.)

now you sit tucked away in the gilded cage he’s made for you in a land far from your home skies. in a castle where the eyes of gods cannot reach you.

“you’re lucky i wasn’t.” you reply sharply, trying to keep your bite around him.

it grows harder and harder to.

every day the edge you’ve tried so desperately to keep begins to whittle away. it’s hard to always be angry. it’s miserable to always be vicious.

(and he’s never harmed you. not physically—just in stranger, worse ways. emotionally. mentally. you wish he’d just break a bone or make a scar, so that when it heals, you know you’re okay again.

it’s worse that he spoils you. it’s worse that he cherishes you. it’s its own form of torment. he knows it.)

he smiles lazily, on the edges are amusement. fondness. he is endlessly entertained by your contempt.

he approaches where you sit in front of your ornate vanity. it’s too beautiful. it’s too grand.

he’s a dark shadow of blue behind you in the mirror. you watch his reflection carefully. he watches you back as he approaches.

something thrills inside you, wild and dark and sudden.

he reaches out, touches your cheek.

you watch his knuckle brush against your face in the mirror.

he’s testing you.

the last time you bit him.

the moment you turn your face towards his hand, it slips away, dancing out of your reach.

he smiles again knowingly.

it’s insufferable.

sensing your ire, he says, “let’s play our game.”

you breathe hard through your nose.

you turn to face him so you’re not caught in his endless reflection. you glare up at him with all the vitriol you can muster.

(it isn’t much anymore.)

“don’t you have more important things to do?”

“nothing so important as you, darling.”

your teeth grind together. but you get out;

“i’d try to escape from the balcony.”

he tsks.

“the guards would spot you.”

“i’d poison the guards.”

he laughs outright at this, “with what poison?”

you feel heat in your face, but you press on, “the hemlock i’ve been growing in the garden.”

he pauses at that. tilts his head.

“my, you’ve gotten good. i can’t tell if you’re lying.”

“go and check.” you dare.

“maybe later.” he agrees, “say i destroyed it. i froze it.”

“you’re not playing fair.” you accuse.

he laughs warmly, reaching out again to tousle your hair. you swat and push at him, but it only excites him, it only makes his hands catch your wrists and come down to your level. kneeling beside you. he holds your wrists tight, presses them down into your own lap. in another world, he could be a lover on his knees for you, his hands clasped over yours.

he fits himself between your legs. he presses himself too close.

but it isn’t another world. and his eye is like the endless night sky in this one. so dark, so terrifying.

“fine,” he agrees pleasantly, “the guards are poisoned. you slip out from the balcony. i’m a light sleeper—i hear you jump to the ground.”

“i try to run.” you breathe.

“where would you run?” he asks, nose nudging yours. you can feel the sharp cut of his foxish smile.

“past the fountain.”

“come now, you’re cleverer than that. i’d find you and drag you back.”

“i’d kick and scream. i’d make you bleed.”

“you’ve done that all before, it doesn’t stop me anymore.”

your nails bite into his shoulders as he lifts you from your place in front of the vanity. you hang around his neck like a child. instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist.

you tuck your face into his shoulder so you don’t see the pleased look in his eye.

you know where he’ll take you.

“you need new tricks.” he hums as he sits on the edge of the bed with you in his lap.

“maybe i already have them—if it’s a good trick, you wouldn’t know.” you mumble into his shoulder. you hide there.

his hand creeps up to the back of your neck. goosebumps prickle. his fingers slip into your hair and then curl into a loose fist. he tugs gently to dislodge you from his shoulder, to pull you away so that he may see your face again.

he looks at you as if he’s trying to find the trick you speak of. perhaps it’s in your eyes or the set of your mouth.

“i always know.” he warns.

“let’s play again.” you say.

and this time, you use your weight to push him down onto the bed.

he goes down willingly, too easily.

you capture his wrists the way he did to you earlier. you pin them by his head. languidly, he stretches beneath you, amused with this show of sudden power or interest.

“okay, you begin.” he says and his smile is the curve of a laughing, crescent moon.

“i grow to trust you.”

he tilts his head, uncertain or intrigued, you can’t tell. but you can tell you’ve surprised him. his smile falters.

“i’m pleased—you know it’s all i want.” he says and though it’s softened, it’s guarded. you can feel the way he tenses beneath you, waiting, searching.

“and i grow to—to want you, too.” you say and your voice sounds strange to your own ears. far off. maybe too near. not your own, or else, horrifyingly, only yours.

perhaps there is truth there in a way you cannot even begin to untangle.

he’s silent. watching.

“what do you do?” you prompt, breath hitching, almost beg him to speak. “play the game. it’s your turn.”

you feel his wrists flex, the tendons and muscles moving, encircled in your fingers.

“i—cherish you. i foster your desires. i give you whatever you want.” his voice is bedroom soft. his lashes flutter.

“freedom?”

he releases a slow breath of frustration. you feel it against your cheek.

“a form of it.” he answers. and then, carefully, you feel the shifting of his hand beneath yours. his thumb sweeps over your wrist, into your palm. “more and more as i grow to trust you, too.”

you let your hand open up to his, feel it bloom to the touch.

“being alone in the garden.” you press, “i ask you one day to tend to it by myself, when i please.”

he laces his fingers with yours.

“in time.” he agrees, “and you can tend to your garden alone. you can walk on the grounds, wherever you please. you can take dinner in the atrium or the greenhouse or by the lake. it could all be yours.”

you squeeze his hand, “say i earn your trust—let’s finish the game.”

“i give you the world.” he breathes it and you feel it against your lips, feel it somewhere deep inside of you. on the other, soft side of your chest, where your heart thrums.

you know he is telling the truth.

but it rings discordant inside of you. just as softly, you murmur;

“and then i disappear with it. you wait for me to come in from the garden one day—and i never do.”

the tender hold of your hand turns vicious, biting.

you bare your teeth and hiss, “i steal your world and your trust and the love you gave me and i run and run and run. until you can’t find me—until you can’t catch me. i do it when you least expect it—when i love you too much.”

he pushes and twists you under him. he presses you down hard like he could keep you from disappearing, like you’re slipping from him already. but you press on;

“and you’ll see my face everywhere—in the windows of the atrium and the corners of the greenhouse. in the hemlock i grew in the garden and the wind that howls while you stand on the balcony. but i’ll be gone—“

“you’ll never earn my trust now.” he warns, “and you’ll never know the garden alone, or the world i could give you.”

“but i’ll know the one you took from me.”

his eye flashes dangerously, the flicker of frigid, dark waters beneath ice.

but then he’s gone. off of you. the warmth of him leaves you in a rush.

he grabs for a coat of his, throwing it over his shoulders in a flare of dark fabric.

“where are you going? i thought you wanted to play.” you sneer.

“and i thought you didn’t?” he heads for the door anyways, “i’m going to the garden. alone.”

“scared you’ll find hemlock?” you ask.

“are you scared i’ll find hemlock?” he retorts and then lowers his voice, almost to a caress, “i would punish you.”

“you’ve done that all before, it doesn’t stop me anymore.” you tilt your head, “maybe you need new tricks.”

the door slams behind him. you don’t even flinch.

and in a moment, you watch his figure, a dark smudge against the gray fog, trudge out towards the garden.

you watch from the balcony.

there is no hemlock in the garden.

and he is gentler again when he returns that night. but he locks the door to the balcony and he keeps the key tethered around his neck, pressed to you as he holds you; so close and yet so far.

you can feel it’s cool metal against your bare back. you can feel his skin to yours, the way he holds you like you’re going to slip away.

there is no hemlock in the garden, but there is nightshade.

“let’s play our game.” he whispers that night, pressing scattered kisses like falling stars along your shoulder, your jaw.

“i steal the key around your throat. i unlock the balcony door—“

“i hear you. i let you go, anyways.”

you go perfectly still.

“i—i climb down the balcony and i run—“

“past the fountain?”

you nod slowly. you feel your heart kick into an unsteady rhythm.

“i let you go. i let you get far.”

“you’d let me—“

your throat constricts; a ball of emotion wedged there suddenly. you feel your eyes prick with—with shock. is he really—?

something terrified stirs inside you at even the thought of your real freedom; of the thing you want most.

“and then i hunt you.”

he kisses beneath your ear, like a lover.

your blood goes cold.

“i chase you across the world i gave you and the one i took from you. and every time, i find you. i’d find you. and i’d drag you back.”

“i’d—i’d kick and scream. i’d make you bleed.” you manage to get out.

he props himself up, if only to catch your chin, to force you to look back at him.

he kisses you. slowly. sweetly.

“there’s no hemlock in the garden. you need new tricks.”

but the nightshade opens its flowers to the moon, just outside the locked door of your balcony, in the garden that you can’t tend to alone.

you melt into the kiss, open mouthed and tender. soft and deep like lovers.

when you pull away, you have the key dangling in your hand;

“and this isn’t the key to the balcony. so do you.”

when he kisses you again, brutal and dreadful, and with too much heat for someone so, so cold, you feel the sharp cut of his foxish smile.

and maybe even some sick curve of your own.

#cielo writes!#cielo's writing!#kaeya x reader #abyss prince kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya x you #kaeya x y/n #cw: suggestive #cw: kidnapping #cw: yandere

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beeftony · 7 months ago

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Chise Hatori is endlessly entertaining as a protagonist because she’s so effortlessly chill about things that would cause your average shonen character to flip out and embark on a multi episode revenge quest. She lets an immortal alchemist who likes committing crimes against humanity just to feel something chill at the bottom of a well near her house because he just needed a good nap. She runs into the man who literally sold her into slavery and treats him like an old buddy, like hey dude your sister is my roommate isn’t that wild. She is married to an eldritch being and teaches him about humanity when she barely understands being human herself.

And then you realize that the reason she’s like this is because she didn’t consider herself a person until very recently, on account of a lifetime’s worth of trauma and neglect, and you become Concerned.

#the ancient magus bride #chise hatori

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whimsi-clown · 7 months ago

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Hi strangers! I 'm currently going on a Disney movie marathon for the 3rd part of my RIDV AU fic, so here are some incorrect quotes while you wait.

Tags: @demodemo909, @imtryingandtired, @missmannequin.

(Thank you guys so much for showing appreciation for the dumb Disney Villains AU I made on a whim, and I hope these even dumber incorrect quotes can entertain you while waiting on the next part!)

Warning: The usual, cursing, OOC, and itty bitty inappropriate jokes. Also, it's long, like, really long. I had too much fun with these quotes, and it shows.

Hey hey! Life in the Villain house! Oh yeah! Life in the Villain house! Reader! Life in the Villain house!~

(If you understood this reference, I am both sorry and not sorry at the same time)

——————————————————————————————

*Disney Villains suddenly appearing before you*

You : I dunno if I'm ready to process the ramifications of this bullshit.

——————————————————————————————

Gaston: Our dear host is playing hard to get.

Gaston: Little do they know, I'm a master at playing hard to get rid of.

——————————————————————————————

You : *Venting endlessly to Hades about your week*

Hades, every once in a while: *In a monotone* Wow, that is so wild.

——————————————————————————————

You: Wake up! The sun is shining!

Cruela: What do you want me to do, photosynthesis?

——————————————————————————————

Gaston: I love you.

You: How many people have you said that to?

Gaston: Everyone.

You: What?

Gaston: I told everyone that I love you.

——————————————————————————————

You: Look guys, I need help.

Ursula: Love help?

Hades: Financial help?

Captain Hook: Emotional help?

Oogie Boogie: Help moving a body?

*Everybody looks at Oogie Boogie*

Oogie Boogie: What?

——————————————————————————————

You, to Jafar: How do you tell someone politely you want to hit them with a brick?

——————————————————————————————

You: Why do you keep a diary?!

Captain Hook: To keep secrets from your computer.

——————————————————————————————

You, filling out legal paperwork: Were you guys born AMAB or AFAB?

Maleficent: Bold of you to assume I was born at all.

Oogie Boogie: Personally, I think I was made in a lab.

Hades: I just straight up spawned, lol.

——————————————————————————————

Gaston: The ‘how the fucks’ and 'why are you so dumbs’ don’t matter. All that matters is that I have a new gun.

——————————————————————————————

Captain Hook: *Slowly pushes a 17th-century cannon into a modern bank* Okay, everyone, be calm. This is a robbery.

——————————————————————————————

Oogie Boogie: If I can't cause tiny bits of chaos every day, I think my body will shut down.

——————————————————————————————

You: All of your existences are confusing.

The villains: How so?

You: Your presence is annoying, but the thought of anything bad happening to any of you guys upsets me.

——————————————————————————————

You: As a responsible adult-

The villains: *snickers*

You: ... As a responsible adult—

——————————————————————————————

You: I don't like bugs. Oogie Boogie, are you even listening to me?

Oogie Boogie: I seem to have misplaced some of my bugs.

You, at Hades (aka your personal flame thrower): HAADDDEEEESSSSS!!!

——————————————————————————————

*Talking on the phone*

Hades: Remember how I said that the gang and I were gonna have a calm night out for once?

You: ... Yeah?

Hades: Well, we’re in jail.

You: *Hangs up*

——————————————————————————————

Hades: *Gets set on fire and screams in agony*

Hades: Nah, I’m just kidding. Fire does nothing to me. Literally.

——————————————————————————————

You: Something tells me Oogie Boogie's going to be a bit more unhinged today...

*Meanwhile, in the villain house*

Oogie Boogie, holding a lit match and a bag of cheetos: Leave me be, the host isn't home to stop me, I'm going feral.

——————————————————————————————

You: COMPANY IS COMING! I WANT THIS PLACE LOOKING LIKE DISNEY ON ICE IN ONE MINUTE!

You: GASTON IF YOU HAVEN'T MADE YOUR BED THROW IT AWAY IT'S TOO LATE TO MAKE IT NOW!

You: GET RID OF THE COUCHES, WE CAN'T LET PEOPLE KNOW WE S I T !

——————————————————————————————

A complete stranger, looking at the disney villains who are experiencing and interacting with the outside world for the first time: Those guys look like a problem...

You: Yes, but they’re my problem.

——————————————————————————————

You, looking at the villains: Okay, so I need to become a therapist faster.

——————————————————————————————

Captain Hook, drowning in crocodile infested waters: Help me host!

You: Don't worry, I heard cowards float.

——————————————————————————————

Grimhilde: Do you want to explain the text you sent me last night?

You: It was autocorrect.

Grimhilde: Autocorrect wrote, "You're so hot. Please step on me."?

You: Yes.

——————————————————————————————

You, talking to the villains: As you know, I keep a list of all of you in order of how likely they are to betray me.

Oogie Boogie: Where am I on the list?

You: Well, I can’t tell you that because then you’ll quickly move up or down depending on your reaction.

——————————————————————————————

Gaston: Dinosaurs aren't extinct. I mean, Grimhilde is walking in this room.

You: *Wheezes*

——————————————————————————————

You: HYDRATE OR DIE-DRATE!

You: *Aggressively throws water bottles*

Hades: Uh... What's up with them?

Jafar: They're trying to yell mental health and wellbeing into us.

You, aggressively shouting: I APPRECIATE ALL OF YOU!

Captain Hook, crying: It's working.

——————————————————————————————

Gaston: Can you be quiet?! I'm trying to think.

You: Don't worry. Doing anything for the first time is difficult.

——————————————————————————————

Dr. Facilier: Fuck capitalism. It's a rigged system that keeps us poor, and it ain't fair. You shouldn't need to work three jobs to afford basic necessities.

Dr. Facilier, playing Monopoly: Sorry, if you wanted to win, you should have tried not being poor.

——————————————————————————————

Scar: I prevented a murder today.

You: Really? That’s amazing! How did you do that?

Scar: Self-control.

——————————————————————————————

You: Holy shit, Hades, do you know what this means?!

Hades: Babes, whenever you start doing this, nobody knows what you mean.

——————————————————————————————

Gaston, throwing their head into you lap: Tell me I'm pretty!

You, unphased and stroking his hair: You're pretty fucking annoying, that's what you are.

——————————————————————————————

Gaston: Why don’t they find me sexy when I bite my lip?

Hades: What do you look like when you bite your lip?

Gaston: *Bites lip*

Hades: ... Have you considered biting your bottom lip instead?

——————————————————————————————

You: *Fills up bottle and drinks from that*

Jafar: *Brought 4 bottles of water so this wouldn’t happen*

Shan Yu: *Drinks straight from the tap*

Hades: *Dehydrates*

Scar: *Drinks from the puddle of water on the floor*

Oogie Boogie: *Licks the tap, doesn’t even need a drink*

——————————————————————————————

Dr. Facilier: *Looks over your shoulder and at your laptop* What the fuck?

You: *Slams screen shut* It’s just research! For something I’m writing about! I swear that’s it!

Dr. Facilier: Why the hell would that involve the breeding habits of frogs?

You: It’s not just “frogs”, it’s the Surinam Toad. And it’s not “breeding habits”, it’s how they raise their young. This is important information my audience needs to know!

Dr. Facilier: That doesn’t change the fact this is for one line in a fanfiction.

You, offendedly: You don’t know that!

Dr. Facilier: I don't hear no denial.

——————————————————————————————

You: I love cooking breakfast. It makes the whole house smell like bacon.

Grimhilde: That’s true, but it also smells like fire and panic.

You: Hades and the smoke detector need to get off my case.

——————————————————————————————

Hades, grinning: Before you were what?

Maleficent: Before I was-

Hades: What?

Maleficent: Before I was inter-

Hades: Before you were interrupted?

Maleficent: Cut me off one more time and I swear I'll-

Hades: What?

Maleficent: *Makes a frustrated sound*

You, nervously laughing: Ahahaha, please stop that before she turns into a dragon and burns my house down.

——————————————————————————————

*The normal looking villains walking at the mall*

Dr. Facilier: Hey, have any of y'all seen our host? They’ve been gone for a while..

Grimhilde, not the least bit concerned: No, we have not.

Shan Yu : I haven’t...

Cruela: They probably just ran off to the McDonald’s or something.

You: Hey.

Captain Hook: Oh, there they are-

Gaston: What the-

Jafar: I- where were you?!

You: ... Walking right behind you guys.

——————————————————————————————

Gaston: Well, remember when our host made a romantic dinner for me?

Hades: Gaston, they microwaved you a pizza.

——————————————————————————————

Shan Yu: Someone will die...

You: Of fun!

——————————————————————————————

You: Could you be anymore annoying?

Oogie Boogie: Yes.

——————————————————————————————

You: Oogie Boogie, you can do anything!

Oogie Boogie: Anything?

You: Anything!

Oogie Boogie, holding a torch: ANYTHING?!?!

You: Wait, not that!

——————————————————————————————

Gaston, playing a video game for the first: This thing is so frustrating! I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!

You: Ok, I think it’s time to turn off the game for a little while.

Gaston: But I’m having fun!

——————————————————————————————

Gaston: *Gasp*

You: wHAT??

Gaston: What if soy milk is just milk introducing itself in Spanish?

You: *Inhales*

Cruela, in another room with Ursula: Why can I hear screeching?

——————————————————————————————

Dr. Facilier: Surgery is basically just stabbing someone to life.

You: Please never become a surgeon.

——————————————————————————————

You: I was arrested for being too cool.

Jafar: The charges were dropped due to a lack of supporting evidence.

——————————————————————————————

Dr. Facilier: Damn, the power went out.

You: Don’t worry, I got this.

You: *Stomps foot*

Dr. Facilier: What-?

You: *Sketchers light up*

——————————————————————————————

You: What do you have?

Oogie Boogie: A KNIFE!

You: NO!

——————————————————————————————

Kidnapper: I have one of your friends.

You: Which one? I have twelve.

Kidnapper: The loud, annoying, rowdy one who never shuts up.

You: Which one? I have twelve.

Gaston, distantly: HEY!!!

——————————————————————————————

Scar: Given the circumstances, I will let you hug me for four to five seconds.

You: Forty five seconds?!?

Scar: No! I said four TO five seconds.

You, hugging Scar: Too late.

——————————————————————————————

Shan Yu: I have an army.

You: We have Oogie Boogie.

——————————————————————————————

*The villains playing Among Us*

Jafar: I believe Shan Yu is innocent, I was with him the whole time. Oogie Boogie, what were you doing?

Oogie Boogie: Oh, I was just murdering-… I mean, nothing!

——————————————————————————————

Grimhilde: When we get back, I'm going to step on you!

You: Okay, as much as I might enjoy that, Your highness–

——————————————————————————————

Jafar: Who would you kill out of the four of us, Hades?

Hades: Gaston, easily.

Gaston, confused: What, why??

Hades: Well, cuz I hate you, and the host would be too easy. They’d probably be into it.

You, standing in the doorway with the most bewildered expression: What the fuck man!?

——————————————————————————————

You: I think it’s time I get my life in order.

Dr. Facilier, narrating: But they did not get their life in order. In fact, they got drunk last night and fought a raccoon.

——————————————————————————————

*Scar hears about you bringing home a stray cat.*

Scar, sarcastically: I can't believe there's another cat somewhere in this house. Amazing feeling. Love that. And it's here, in this house! Somewhere! And I may encounter it! What a treat...

——————————————————————————————

*The female villains after watching The Wizard of Oz*

Grimhilde: Where the devil is Maleficent?

Ursula: Well, it's raining outside... Maybe they melted?

Cruela: Shall I look outside for a pointy set of horns?

——————————————————————————————

Hades: Any idiot would know that.

Gaston: I knew that!

Hades: See?

——————————————————————————————

Scar: I'm not lazy, I just find it hard to put effort into things I'm not passionate about.

You: What are you passionate about?

Scar: Sleeping.

——————————————————————————————

Gaston: Without ugly, there would be no beauty in this world.

Grimhilde: Thank you for your sacrifice, Gaston.

——————————————————————————————

You: If I see a bug, I'll simply leave the room elegantly and have Hades to do something about it.

You: And if he doesn't fulfill my wish, I simply never go back in there.

——————————————————————————————

Dr. Facilier, looking at a dead phone: How do we bring this thing back to life? Magic? Live sacrifice? I know a guy in town-

——————————————————————————————

You: I haven't seen Gaston and Hades for fifteen minutes now.

*Outside a nearby window, a car without a driver inside is seen rolling down a driveway, with Gaston and Hades running after it in a panic. You don't look outside at all.*

You: That probably means they're getting into trouble.

——————————————————————————————

You: Go to hell!

Hades: Where do you think I come from?

——————————————————————————————

Oogie Boogie: People tell me I have a unique way of lighting up a room.

You: It’s called arson, and those people are called witnesses.

——————————————————————————————

Dr. Facilier: What are y’all’s favorite things to wake up to?

Grimhilde: Breakfast in bed.

You: Emails from AO3!

Shan Yu: My favorite thing to wake up to is not waking up at all.

Shan Yu: The screams of my enemies are a close second, though.

——————————————————————————————

You: Question. When they shot Bambi's mother, did you find that a sad moment... At all?

Gaston: I'm sure she's mounted on a nice wall in a fine home somewhere.

——————————————————————————————

Oogie Boogie: Treat bugs the way you want to be treated!

You: Killed without hesitation.

——————————————————————————————

Captain Hook, recently learned modern swears: FIGHT ME, YOU NERD ASS SLUT!

You: At least try to sound slightly more sophisticated when you threaten someone.

Captain Hook: Oh, I'm sorry. I should ask; dost thou want to engage in a duel, my good bitch?

You: Somehow, that's worse.

——————————————————————————————

Maleficent: We all have our demons...

You, grabbing Oogie Boogie: This one’s mine!

——————————————————————————————

Shan Yu: You know you've made it when you see your picture everywhere you go.

You: Those are wanted posters!

——————————————————————————————

Captain Hook: So, what's for dinner?

You, staring at the food you burnt: Regret.

——————————————————————————————

Gaston: So, I've been thinking-

You: Again?? That's dangerous.

——————————————————————————————

Hades: Why would you do that?

You: Because I feel guilty.

Maleficent: Guilt is a trick emotion. It’s put there by your parents to stop you from doing things that feel good.

——————————————————————————————

You: *Eating a cinnamon roll*

Oogie Boogie: Cannibalism.

You: *Confused chewing noises*

——————————————————————————————

*At the supermarket*

Captain Hook: All right, the last item on the list is "virgin oil."

Captain Hook:

Captain Hook: Wow. Imagine being an item and still being called a virgin.

——————————————————————————————

You: What’s your body count?

Captain Hook: Do you mean sex or murder?

——————————————————————————————

You: *Is wearing silk pants* How does this look?

Cruela: Like its slips on and off really easily.

You:

Cruela: No, I didn't mean it like that-

Ursula: We know what you meant.

——————————————————————————————

You: Bonjour, Dr. Facilier. Voulez–vous coucher avec moi?

Dr. Facilier: No, I don't want to sleep with you.

You: ... Is that what that means??

——————————————————————————————

You: I'm gonna eat the chicken breasts!

Gaston, snickering: Yeah, eat what you lack,

You, deadpanning at Gaston: Then maybe I should order brains on delivery for you.

——————————————————————————————

Jafar: I committed all 7 deadly sins in 30 minutes.

Hades: Wow, I've gotta hear this.

Jafar: I was angry and envious of my neighbor, so I lazily seduced his wife and ate all his groceries and didn't share.

Hades: You forgot pride.

Jafar: No, I'm pretty proud of this.

——————————————————————————————

Maleficent: Our dear host annoyed me today, so I told them that I can’t wait for them to see what I had planned for our special day tomorrow.

Scar: There is nothing special about tomorrow.

Maleficent: But there is something special about watching the color leave their face as panic takes over.

——————————————————————————————

You: You’re all insane!

The villains: Sure we are, what’s your point?

——————————————————————————————

Gaston: I want you to be with me for the rest of your life.

You: Damn, that sounds like a marriage proposal... A really one-sided one.

Gaston, getting down on one knee: That's because it is.

——————————————————————————————

You, admiring and petting a sleeping Scar: You’re so cute.

Scar, sleepily: I could tear you limb from limb with my bare fangs.

You, lovingly: I know.

——————————————————————————————

Oogie Boogie: *Writing a letter*

Oogie Boogie: Dear Sandy Claws,

I'm writing to let you know I've been naughty...

And it was worth it, you fat, judgemental bastard.

——————————————————————————————

You, dealing with the villains: Like, no offense to myself and all, but what the fuck am I actually doing?

——————————————————————————————

*You are cleaning the house, and you find an empty bottle of orange juice*

You: Clear orange juice?

You: Oh, it's empty.

Most of the villains, who had been watching the entire time: We live with an idiot. We live with an idiot. We live with an idiot.

——————————————————————————————

Scar: Our relationship is strictly professional.

You, brushing Scar's mane as he lays his head on your lap: Absolutely. Only business.

——————————————————————————————

All the female villains: We're not like other girls. We're way, way worse.

——————————————————————————————

Captain Hook: There. How do I look?

Dr. Facilier: Like a cheap French harlot.

Captain Hook: French?!

——————————————————————————————

Shan Yu, towering over you and glaring down at you: I could kill you if I wanted to little host.

You absolutely done with his bs: Oh yeah? Well, guess what. So could any other human being. So could a dog. So could a dedicated duck. You aren't special.

——————————————————————————————

Hades: Some people say that I have a god complex. I’d like to think that I’m a complex god.

——————————————————————————————

You: Captain, you're drunk.

Captain Hook: Correction: drinking. Present tense. Grammar, my dear host.

——————————————————————————————

Jafar: There’s always that one weak individual within the group who isn’t down with murder.

Jafar: *Glares at you*

You: ... Well sorry I have morals!

——————————————————————————————

Shan Yu, singing to the tune of I Kissed a Girl: I killed a guy, and I liked it-

Dr. Facilier, whispering: Should we call someone?

You, also singing: The taste of his cherry chapstick.

Captain Hook, appalled: Call Maleficent.

——————————————————————————————

Oogie Boogie: Get in the Halloween spirit and make a ghost!

You: That’s called murder and I heard somewhere that it's illegal.

——————————————————————————————

You: You remind me of the ocean.

Ursula: Because I'm deep and mysterious?

You: No, because you're full of salt, and you scare people.

——————————————————————————————

Oogie Boogie: Something’s off.

You: Maybe you’ve finally developed human emotions and feel bad for hurting people.

Oogie Boogie: No, but that’s funny.

——————————————————————————————

You: What do you call disobeying the law?

The villains: A hobby.

You: *Crosses their arms*

The villains: ... That we do not engage in.

——————————————————————————————

You: Stop thinking whatever you're thinking.

Gaston: Huh?

You: You always make that face when you're about to say something stupid. So cut it out-

Gaston: I love you.

You:

Gaston:

Gaston: Also, cereal qualifies as a soup.

You: I KNEW IT!!!

——————————————————————————————

You, extremely touched: Aw, you guys really put aside everything and came all this way for me?

You:

You, confused: How did you even get here so fast??

Cruela: Several traffic violations.

Jafar: Three counts of resisting arrest.

Gaston: Roughly thirteen cans of those energy drinks you like so much.

Dr. Facilier: Also, this aint our car.

——————————————————————————————

If you made it to this part, then congratulations! You made it through all 101 incorrect quotes! (I know, I counted them myself)

I hope you enjoyed them!

And for those of you who read through all of this and have no idea what you just read, here's Part 1 of the Reverse Isekai Disney Villains AU for context.

Thanks for reading!

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teleit · 1 month ago

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Who deserved to be the main character (spoiler - NOT Rhaenyra)

Every post I make is the result of a conversation with someone I managed to catch and tie to a chair so they couldn't run away while I endlessly whine about how much I hate this show (whining is my love language, by the way).

I'm slightly drunk this time, so if English decides to fight me hand to hand and wins, good for him, I didn't put up much of a fight.

I've been grieving for over two years now for Laena Velaryon. That woman was an absolute savage in the books, and I would be so happy to see her on screen the way Martin intended. If only the writers understood feminism at all, instead of demeaning every woman in favor of Ryan Condall's supreme alpha self-insert, right?

This incredible woman took over Vhagar itself at the age of 12, fearing no one or nothing. She was more interested in flying than boys, and was an excellent rider. She was wild, fierce, and proud. She despised her first suitor, allowing her father to postpone the wedding time and time again. She found a suitor after her own heart, the rogue prince Daemon Targaryen himself. She loved her husband, and was loved in return. She went on an adventure to another continent, and saw the world in all its glory. She gave birth to twin girls, whom she loved as deeply and fiercely. She secured a future for her daughters through smart political decisions, betrothing them to the heir next to the current heir to the Iron Throne and the future king and heir to the throne of Driftmark. She also loved a girl named Rhaenyra, and was loved in return. She was surrounded by those she loved - children, lovers, a brother, and parents. She wasn't neglected, abandoned, or alone - no, Laena Velaryon didn't let anyone dictate what she did or treat her as secondary or insignificant. And in her last moments, she was a true dragon blood, wanting to die next to Vhagar, not on a birthing bed.

This is someone who wouldn't need to be given something to do so that viewers wouldn't forget who the main character is. This is someone who wouldn't run around locations like a chicken with a cut-off head, stupidly trying to do something, but ultimately doing nothing important. This is someone who would be able to entertain me so that I would stop getting on my friends' nerves with stories about how much I wish that three-day diarrhea would overtake everyone responsible for the stupidities in the House of Dragons scenario.

#anti hotd #anti ryan condal #hotd critical #laena velaryon #If I drink enough #I might book a ticket to the US to find Condall #and eat his eyeballs

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echantedtoon · 2 months ago

Text

Demonstober Day 9 Marionette

A small-scale usually wooden figure (as of a person) with jointed limbs that is moved from above by manipulation of the attached strings or wires.

(Warnings for mentioning of death. The song used is Circus Monster (English Cover) by Jubyphonic

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=aQgXq42nD8I&pp=ygUcY2lyY3VzIG1vbnN0ZXIgZW5nbGlzaCBjb3Zlcg%3D%3D

Inspired by @whisperinghallwaysofmirrors Marionette Enmu story and the original Marionette Enmu art by @venompeach so please check them out.)

Edit: Here's a link to their story please support them and their writing.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54554677

Tagging: @lavenderdropp @six-eyed-samurai @trancylovecraft @shadyd3ar @cherrysuzaku

@nousija

Remember if you want to be added to the spooktober taglist lemme know

Perhaps you should've known better than to go urban exploring on Halloween.

But you were bored.

You were too old for trick or treating. Handing out candy got tiring way too fast because it just meant you kept having to get up in the middle of doing whatever you were going multiple times your feet hurt by the end of the night. No good horror movies were playing tonight. And the costume party you originally planned on going to was cancelled because your friend's dog got really sick from eating the candy he left out for the trick or treaters.

The thought of jokingly messing around with a ouija board crossed your mind, but you've seen enough horror movies to know THAT was an absolutely stupid idea! So you were left to endlessly scroll through your phone trying to find something to entertain yourself with until you came across an urban explorer blogging himself and his partner walking through an abandoned house on the side of the road and ended up finding some antiques in good condition worth a fortune.

And that's when it hit you.

YOU COULD DO THAT!!

It'd be just like going to one of those cheesy haunted house attractions but without the cheap tricks and people in costumes. Plus you might find some cool old stuff to keep and if nothing else, it'll satisfy your bored mind if you go. Surely the only dangers were possible mold growing on the old walls or wild animals making their home in the abandoned walls. And what luck an old theater was within walking distance of your home. Not your first choice for your first time urban exploring but let's be honest.

An abandoned theater on Halloween sounded way more exciting than sitting on your porch just handing out candy to hyper little kids.

So you gathered up the proper equipment you'd need for this adventure. Flashlight, spare batteries, phone, a mask in case of mold, and of course a backpack to carry everything in. You made your way out into the setting sun's light. Naturally there was already people out here walking around mostly parents walking their little kids around trick or treating or teenagers out seeking out candy or going to play tricks...You hoped your house didn't get egged while you out.

The moon rose higher and higher in the sky as the sun fully set and allowed the night to fully make the darkness creep in. As you walked the streets it slowly became less crowded and the houses covered in decorations became less and less the farther you walked. Your footsteps echoed from every step you took against the pavement, and the only lights being the street lamps and your phone's screen as you followed directions via Google to the location of the old theater. It was a bit farther from you than expected, about an hour and ten minutes of walking, but it was still the closest one to you and you craved that Halloween scare.

The lamps shown down upon you as you continued to walk through the darkened streets and walked past businesses long closed for the day near the edge of town. An eerie flickering light casted over you as the cold wind blew send a shiver down your spine with only your shadow as company. It sure felt like a creepy Halloween night. The footsteps echoing throughout the empty streets slowly came to a slow stop alongside a tall wire fence with a very large yellow 'no trespassing' sign hung to it.

You looked at the tall fence and turned your attention to the massive dark building behind the iron gates. The building was old and worn as you expected. After all it had been abandoned since the nineteen twenties. The sight of the building long since abandoned and worn down by time almost seemed to mock the young woman in front of it, daring you to enter at your own risk. The implication making you swallow a lump in your throat.

You've only heard rumors about what happened here but rumor was that an actor died on stage while doing a hypnosis act, however he had been a scam artist but no one could prove it. So one of his victims, a stage hand and fellow actor, decided to drop a rather heavy sand bag on his head during another one of his acts. The impact killed him instantly. In order to mock him further, a puppet was made to look exactly like the old scam artist and the killer did acts with it. After only two shows the Director put a stop to the gruesome shows and ordered the man to get rid of the puppet. However the next day when they returned to the theater-

The man was found dead with his marionette's hands around his throat-

CRASH-!!

You let out a small shriek and whirled around towards the sounds of crashing metal. A crash can fell over from the entrance of an alley as a stray cat meowed loudly before running away into the darkness. A sigh of relief escaped your throat. Well you were looking for a good Halloween scare. Guess you got one. Shaking your head, you looked back to the large building and sucked in a breath.

Get a hold of yourself. It was only rumors and even if someone died here there was no such things as ghosts or haunted puppets. This place was probably just abandoned because radios and TV was more popular than going to see someone act during those times. With a deep breath of encouragement, you shook yourself and quickly looked up and down the empty streets before putting your phone away and grabbing onto the chain link fence. It was easy to get up and then jump down on the other side. The building was even more creepy in person as you looked up at it. Hearing it creeping lightly against the wind as you walked up to the front noticing the boarded up doors and windows that you couldn't get through. Luckily you found a hole in the side of the building probably collapsed in by old age from the building and just big enough for you to squeeze through.

You had to suck in your guts and take your backpack off for a moment but you managed to get inside on top of what felt like a scruffy rub, and switch on your flashlight. The light flashed making you blink a little bit from the sudden light filling the space but you were able to get a good look at the surroundings. Like you suspected under your feet was a shaggy dark grey-green carpet with holes and threads sticking out of the floor at all corners. At the sides of you were old walls and feeling faded beige wall paper tearing a lot of places and showing the chipping wood underneath.

The light caught dust floating about in the air mentally thanking yourself for remembering the mask to avoid breathing it in, and a few cobwebs here and there where the old ceiling connected to the walls. The only sources of light was your strong flashlight and the hole in the wall you shifted through with minimal moonlight seeping in. With a deep breath, you took a step forward and began walking down the dark hall. The floor boards creaked under your weight and the carpet gave an uncomfortable crunchy sensation from the years of not being taken cared of. The air stale and cold from the fall weather outside. Sure was spooky in here but you were comforted by the fact that you knew there was no such thing as ghosts.

As you walked, the light caught onto the few papers as you passed noticing that they were in fact old posters advertising the old acts that they must've used to do here. A puppeteer, dances, a play or two, and one that fell into the floor advertising a hypnosis act. Huh. The legend mentioned a hypnotist. A quick glance to it had the words 'Enmu Tamio the Amazing Hypnotist. Cures of the mind for the mind. Depression and fear gone'. You couldn't make out anything else because the pictures were long since too blurry and faded. Perhaps a part of the rumors was true.

You traveled farther up the hall until it split into two other long halls going left or right. The light shines both ways and neither looked different from each other so you went left. The floorboards still creaking under your weight. Have to admit, so far it's not really that scary. More dusty than anything else. Continuing to walk, the hallway turned right towards a longer hall than normal and you found a rather peculiar sight of doors on either side. Was this the bathroom area? A sign catching onto an old sign on the wall told you all you needed to know.

"Employees Only." Your head shines back up the hallway of doors. "This must've been the dressing rooms for the actors." You mumbled to yourself and began to walk forward.

Out of curiousity you reached out to try the first door, it opened- AND SOMETHING RUSHED OUT FROM THE DARKEST! You gasped and fumbled back as it fell to the floor with a clatter! Revealing itself to be-!...A broom..and a bucket rolling out with it. You blinked shining your light into the broom closet, before groaning, and kicking aside the cleaning supplies to walk your way up towards the other doors.

Some had names still hung up on the doors. 'Daki Shabana the Great Ballerina'. Recruitment Office.' 'Iguru Obanai the Snake Charmer.' Some didn't. But most were locked tight when you tried to get in, however you did find a few open. An old changing room with what looked like old burlesque outfits hung up on a rack. The showgirls changing room no doubt. A quick look around lead you to find a few cool trinkets like an antique watch and an old music box still in good condition shaped like a little merry-go-round. You threw them all in your bag before continuing to move on. Continuing onwards, you found one name that you thought was intriguing.

"Enmu Tamio."

That name was on the poster from before. The Hypnotist. The light moved from the sign on the door towards the knob, and was shocked to find the door cracked open already. Probably came loose when the locks rusted away or someone didn't lock it up when the place was abandoned. Despite the shiver that ran down your spine, your hand slowly reached out and pushed it.

CRRRFREEEAAAKKK-

The loud creek echoed throughout the hallway and your light shines inside. The room...was unsurprisingly normal. A large vanity was in the far left side with a mirror that reflected your flashlight. A wardrobe against the other wall left wide open and empty. A suit case or two lining the floors, and a few old posters lined up the wall. Advertising the guy's hypnosis acts and strangely one or two trains. You looked around at the room finding nothing of value except for one of the posters etched with the art of a man.

Ah. Was that Mr. Hypnotist?

He looked like a man no taller than yourself, with short black hair falling to just above his shoulders. He posed smiling holding up one of those old timey pocket watches on a chain. Yeah. You expected that much. Deciding to leave the dressing room, you slowly made your way down the hallway and towards wherever it lead to. A couple more dressing rooms caught your eye but nothing too strange until you got to the very last one.

"Petro Peterson the World's Greatest Puppeteer."

Ah. So there was a puppeteer amongst the performers here. So perhaps the part of the puppeteer killing the Hypnotist was true? You would've tried to open the door but there was no knobs and old chipped planks boarded up most of the door. Well that was certainly ominous. But you still moved on, walking away from the rooms and turning a corner where it was especially dark. Your flashlight could barely light up more than three yards in front of you as you continued to walk. The carpeted floor was gone now replaced by just creaky wood. You couldn't see anything no matter how much you squinted in the dark. Barely being able to see-

Until something brushed up against your face-

"AH?!"

You fumbled for the light nearly dropping the flashlight before flashing it up towards the thing still dangling from the dark above your head. The light caught onto it, swaying back and forth from you swatting it. You panted as it harmlessly hung there... before you blinked.

"A rope?"

A brownish-grey rope dangled from the dark rafters above. Your light couldn't the top but you saw other ropes dangling from the ceiling too. A quick sweep of the floor had you noticing a torn open sandbag spilling it's contents all over the floor, and to your far right was a massive of felt also dangling from the ceiling. A curtain?

"I must've wondered backstage," you mumbled to yourself.

Great. But no worries. If that was the curtains then the stage was right in front of you and you could exit through the audience entryway. Sounded like a good plan. This place was starting to get tiring fast. Making your way towards the big velvety curtains, you moved your hands to push away the ropes from your body and walk towards the curtains. The curtains were filled with moth holes and dust floated into the air like a cloud of smoke when you pushed Against it. Good thing you had the mask. You continued along the curtains until you managed to find a gape in the curtains and began your way through. Pushing past curtains after curtain until you felt a break through-

You helped with a stumble as you fell through the maze of curtains and finally stumbled onto stage. Taking a minute to compose yourself, you sighed and brushed the dust off your body. Packing yourself off before shining your flashlight around and noticing the stage and the area between the stage and the rows of seats for the audience. You didn't know what that space was called but it was where musicians would play as the shows were played out on stage. By the looks of it, they abandoned the instruments too. Most of which looked damaged beyond repair. Ok. Now you could exit through the audience entrance up there. Where was the steps off stage? Your steps echoed throughout the entire room as you carefully swept your light across the floor searching and searching-

Until you bumped into something that rattled.

Your flashlight pointed up to the thing before you.

A face shined within the lights glow-

"AAAHH!!"

Your shriek despite being muffled by the mask, echoed throughout the entire stage. A flashlight clattered to the ground a d rolled a few feet away. You stumbled back falling onto your bottom and scooting away quickly looking up in horror at the person in front of you.

And silence ensued.

Your terrified form panted staring up at the shadowed figure as it continued to gently sway...Then you blinked as it continued to do nothing. Wait a minute. Crawling over to grab the flashlight, you shined it up at the massive figure, only to be astonished by what you saw.

A puppet?

No...wait..Not a puppet. Well it was. But it was a specific TYPE of puppet.

A marionette?!

A life sized marionette.

You continued to stare at it before slowly getting back up to look at it closer. The face was still, made of wood but the paint hadn't faded by some miracle. It's eyes closed and you could see the lines by the mouth were it moved. The hair was a bit scruffy but not in bad shape, and the outfit it wore was worn out with one of two tears, and faded from a white-beige almost leotard like costume to a full grey from age and dust. You hesitated but reached out a hand to knock on it's face... before standing back to shine the lights towards the top.

Barely Visible strings held it off the ground as it continued to sway. ..Did they seriously leave a man sized marionette hanging here when they abandoned this place? And why did they make it so big?! It was creepy! And yet- ...You noticed something about it. One of the glass blue eyes WAS open. Seemingly staring at you in the light. And it was starting to come out of place.

Reaching out, you gently reached out to the eye and pushed it back into place with a small pop, before reaching up to rub down his hair so it wasn't sticking up, and lastly straighten up his clothes. Might not make a difference since you'll just leave it here, but at least it looked better.

"There. Pretty as a flower. Now where's those steps?"

Your light turned away from the puppet to start combing the stage Again. You only might have taken five steps before a giant noise caused you to jump!

CLICK!

And then a massive blast of light flashed on behind you. The sudden light in the darkness had you whirling around in shock, holding up a hand to block out some of the light blinding you. Eyes blinked soon enough as they were able to fill the darkness and you froze as you realized that it was the stage lights that were on shining down and lighting up the entire stage. What the-

A loud blast of music sounded out behind you that sounded like..Sax and violin? You whirled around but was further stumped to find no one else seated in the musicians places behind you. What the-

"What the heck is going on?!"

"Time is dead and gone.~ Show must go on.~ It's time for our our act.~ They all scream at me.~ They cannot see this curtain hides me.~ An amazing gift.~ So quick and swift.~ You are amazing.~"

A melodist voice wafted over from behind you that sent chills down your spine and goosebumps on your skin. Fear infected your veins like a virus as you stood frozen amongst the noises...and then your head slowly turned around.

"By myself I can't.~ They start to chant.~ Why are you not here?~ Grinning at me.~ I lay at my knees.~ They want to hear me.~ Why can they not see?~"

Rapid clicking sounds accompanied wood. Twirling, twirling. Round and round on one leg. Like a ballerina. Audience of not enjoying the rapid beating of it's own musical heart center stage. Breathing life to the void present.

"I want to see you.~ I have to see you.~ I need to see you.~ What happened to you?~ We go up on stage.~ They jump to enrage.~ Why are you not here?~Why is he so near?~ He wants me to sing.~ I just cannot bring. I say he's not you.~ What else can I do?~"

The marionette..Was MOVING!! Twirling around in a pirouette like a ballerina, mouth open a d singing.

HOW?!

Your mouth was wide and eyes were wide open in shock before you shook your head and looked around. This had to be a prank! Someone here was messing with you! You accidentally hit an on switch somewhere. Someone was trying to scare you out!

SOMETHING!! But no matter where you shined your light or looked you couldn't see anyone or any machine you might've activated to move stuff around. You looked back to the moving puppet- And froze dead in your tracks as it had stopped twirling around to strike a pose. Glass blue eyes stared at you and a smile on the wooden face. A lump formed in your throat as it moved on its own accord upon tiptoes doing that tip toe walk ballerinas were know for.

"Singing it's silent of misery.~ A monster lies trapped in its own nightmare.~ He is a tyrant.~ He let's out a plea.~ Why did she have to leave it all alone?~

It was only then with sheer horror that you realized that it was tip toe dancing over to you. Unfortunately you realized that too late.

"Bound to sing for us.~ A worthless monster.~ It never sees us ~ It despises us.~ Lying so useless we start to holler.~ Hey get up you worthless circus monster.~"

It was right in front of you now. Looming over you so close that if you moved, your face would hit it's wooden head. Glass eyes blinked at you ..and with a thud sound the flashlight and back pack fell out of your hands. It seemed to find amusement in this as it smiled wider, and all of a sudden the tight feeling of a hand grabbing yours and an arm around your waist was on you.

"I lay all alone. I should've known you would've left me.~ He smiles at me.~ I cannot see why he's in your place.~ They can't tell me why you said goodbye right before our act.~ Those two lions were always fun.~ Why did they leave too?~"

You were suddenly forced into some waltz. Instinctively your other hand grabbed onto him as your terrified form was made to step in time with this thing's tune.

"Roaring at me.~ I lay on my knees. What is happening?~ I can hear you sing.~ They will not obey.~ They've been lead astray.~ Will I still see you?~ I have to see you.~ I panic and flee.~ They both pounce on me.~ I fell to ground.~ I fell to the ground.~"

You tried to pull away as this thing made you dance around with it like some puppet. Forget trying to figure out what was going on! You had to get out of this. However when you looked back up...

You paused once again.

"I look up to see you're not here with me.~ Am I all alone?~ Where could you have gone?~ Singing it's silent of misery.~ A monster lies trapped in its own nightmare.~ He is a tyrant.~ He let's out a plea.~ Why did she have to leave it all alone?~ Bound to sing for us.~ A worthless monster.~ It never sees us ~ It despises us.~ Lying so useless we start to holler.~ Hey get up you worthless circus monster.~"

Something like water was seeping out of the glass eyes and falling down the thing's cheeks and dripping off in time with the steps you both took. Was this thing..crying? Could this thing even be capable of crying.

The song continued on its own melody and you only watched in awe as it moved out of its own accord.

"Singing it's silent of misery.~ A monster lies trapped in its own nightmare.~ He is a tyrant.~ He let's out a plea.~ Why did she have to leave it all alone?~ Bound to sing for us.~ A worthless monster.~ It never sees us ~ It despises us.~ Lying so useless we start to holler.~ Hey get up you worthless circus monster.~"

Things slowly came to a stop. And there you both stood you stared at the thing before with one last big smile it's eyes closed and it just-

Fell limp.

It's arms flopped down only to be suspended by thin air by the strings. It's eyes closed. Head hung.

CLICK!!

With a massive sound the lights once again turned off leaving you in pure darkness except for the distant sounds of your flashlight on the floor. Music gone. Silent darkness settled. Like it never even happened.

...

Footsteps slowly stumbled about towards the darkness and a second later a flashlight was picked up and the backpack was swung over your shoulders. More footsteps approached the marionette on the stage once again. Shining the light upon the face that was still limp. However the traces of tears still remained... Eventually you tapped it with your flashlight.

"Hey...A-Are you still awake?"

No response. You walked around to face it's front.

"Are you that Enmu Hypnotist guy from the posters?"

The thing moved- You flinched as the blue eyes once more snapped open and turned towards you. Glass eyes shining in the light.

"...How did you die?"

It didn't answer. Instead in blinked before it's head turned to the far left. Curious your light shined where it was looking at. You saw nothing but the floor until it shines up on something you didn't notice before. A spiderweb like crack in the otherwise normal floorboards and the faint color of rust...Blood long since cleaned up but stained forever into the wood.

"Oh my god. ...How long have you been here?"

"A long time."

You shined your light back up to the puppet that turned it's head to you. "I thought you were talking. .. Can't you leave?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

To answer, the thing gave a few tugs of an arm and you noticed. The strings. Were they the things thing his ghost here or something? You continued to stare at him before putting the flashlight between your teeth and grabbing his arm. You completely put your weight into it and with its old age snapped easily.

Immediately you let go as the wooden appendage moved and flexed without the string to move it. Those eyes blinked before turning to you before you grabbed onto his other arm.

"What are you doing?"

"Either something really good or really crazy. Let's find out which."

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #Demonstober #enmu kny #enmu demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba enmu #kny enmu #enmu #demon slayer enmu #enmu tamio #enmu x reader

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