Wrote a little scene based on my post from earlier about a suicidal Overlord Husk wanting to play with angelic weapons during one-night-stands. Suicide mentions, obviously. Just a dark bit I wanted to write.
Husk has picked up a cute bunny for tonight's games. He's no one special, not an Overlord, not on anyone's leash; just a naive Sinner, possibly newly dead, who Husk was easily able to charm after meeting him in the bar area of the casino. After some drinks in the living room of the penthouse, he's brought his new friend into the bedroom, and now his new partner is on top of him, kissing and biting his neck and chest in all the right places. He's stronger than he looks, and Husk is pleased that tonight's partner has such a fire in him.
Maybe that means he'll be amenable to what Husk wants tonight.
Husk takes his partner's chin in his claws and tilts his face up to look in his eyes. "How about we play a game tonight, bunny?" he purrs.
"A game?" his partner asks, his nose twitching. Husk laughs; the enthusiasm is so fucking cute.
"Yeah, something to make things interesting. You know I love games, don't you? Love a little thrill? I'm sure you do, too - isn't that why you were hanging around a casino?"
His partner nods in agreement, and moves to let Husk get up. He heads for a drawer in his dresser, and his partner watches eagerly, wondering what kind of toy the Overlord wants to play with tonight.
The object Husk pulls from his drawer glimmers in the dark room, but the partner doesn't truly believe what he's seeing until Husk is pressing the glowing revolver into his hands.
"Blessed steel," Husk confirms with a smirk. "Smithed by Carmilla Carmine herself."
He may be newly dead, but he's already learned about the dangers of blessed steel. It's the first thing most Sinners are warned about, either by friend or by threat; you can come back from most things down here, but you'll never come back from angelic magic.
"Just one bullet," Husk says. "I always keep it handy in case I feel like... playing." He barks out a laugh as the passionate atmosphere in the room rapidly chills.
"And... what am I supposed to do with this...?"
Husk maintains his smirk as he drops to his knees and folds his hands behind his back. "I'm pretty good with my mouth, you know," he says before opening his mouth wide and sticking out his tongue.
The rabbit's hands tremble around the revolver in his hand, but he makes no further motion or sound.
"What's wrong?" Husk slurs. Either the alcohol is hitting him much harder than it was just an hour ago, or his partner is finally seeing him for the drunken wretch he's always been. "Don't you wanna see what I can do with my mouth?" Husk grabs his partner's hands in his much larger ones, and brings them down so he can rim the muzzle of the revolver with his tongue.
Husk wraps his lips around the barrel, and as he slides his mouth down the barrel, he looks up at the rabbit.
However unintentionally, this action is his answer.
The rabbit goes from trembling to frozen, keeping his hands as far from the trigger as he can without dropping the weapon. Husk moans as he pulls his lips back, and he makes a show of running his slobbery tongue up and down the barrel.
"Don't you like the show, baby?" Husk asks, surprisingly close to the verge of laughter given the circumstances. "Shoot whenever you're ready. You can wait until I'm real into it if that makes it more exciting. Catch me by surprise."
He may be new around here, but the rabbit has picked up enough to know that if he shoots this guy, even by accident, he is going to be in deep shit.
"It's okay!" Husk assures him as he licks his way up the barrel, moaning and slurping as his saliva drips onto the carpet. "Maybe you'll get lucky and you'll hit a dud." His tongue slowly traces over the trigger guard. "And maybe... maybe if I'm lucky, maybe..."
His rough tongue grazes against his partner's hand, and he yelps as he loses grip of the gun. The gun tumbles to the floor, and a loud BANG rings out as a bullet fires through the wall of Husk's bedroom.
"...hey." Husk wheezes out a laugh. "Ya missed! Ya... ya missed..." Husk is finding it difficult to speak through his wheezing. "It's okay, I've got more bullets- I'll set up another one, and we'll keep playing-"
"That was playing?! Are you trying to get me killed for hurting a- an Overlord, is that what you're called?!"
"I ain't trying to hurt ya!" Husk insists. "It's just a game- just a thrill-"
"I'm out of here. I don't know what is wrong with you, and I'm not sticking around to find out."
"Wait-" Husk pleads as his partner dresses himself as quickly as he can. "Don't go- I just wanna-"
He walks out the bedroom door before he even finishes fastening his pants.
If he waited outside the door for a minute longer, he would have heard Husk's manic laughter turn into wails, barely muffled by the paws covering his face.
Why does everyone refuse to set him free...?
