#ahhhh. agony. pain.

[orchidyoonkook]

The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG

Title: The Devil Wears Valentino  

Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff

Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 10,488

Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM

A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!

A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much

A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.

Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....

Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word. 

Intimate. That would be a better choice. 

From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering. 

The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony. 

You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.

He’ll be back for another soon.

While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy. 

Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts. 

Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.

And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go. 

Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.

Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between. 

Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company. 

Most of the time.

You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight. 

“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”

“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.

Fucking incubi demons…

You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off. 

You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.

You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”

Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges. 

Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter. 

They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot. 

It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are. 

You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back. 

“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses. 

And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up. 

“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.” 

There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.

“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.

It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.

Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty. 

But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is. 

Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.

Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck. 

It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.

He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself. 

“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.” 

To which you think again, fucking incubi…

Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night. 

You learned your lesson.

So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung! 

You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.

From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.

Which can only mean one fucking thing. 

You just lost all your tips for the night. 

Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it. 

Fuck. 

“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.

“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet. 

You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know. 

“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’ 

You know exactly where it is.

No one else will touch it. 

Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass. 

No one serves him but you. 

But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you. 

You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.

You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year. 

After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,

“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”

He didn’t take another breath. 

A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.  

“Thanks,” You’d said.

“It’s where he belongs,”  he responded. 

Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.

But he was more than pleased. 

After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.

He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you. 

Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it. 

A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink. 

Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;

‘One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a girl,

Four for a boy,

Five for silver,

Six for gold,

Seven for a secret never to be told.’

You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself. 

‘Eight for a wish,

Nine for a kiss,

Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,

Eleven for health,

Twelve for wealth,’

You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.

“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.” 

He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.” 

You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.

“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’” 

He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.” 

“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”

You know the entire club listens in to your conversation. 

No one calls the Devil by his first name. 

Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to. 

And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives. 

No one except you. 

What a funny little exception you are.

Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”

You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.

You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is. 

“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that. 

Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in. 

“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night. 

He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker… 

“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.

Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up. 

You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.

Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…

Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.

You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath. 

The King of Hell. 

He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end. 

Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon. 

Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging. 

He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.

You have to stay away from him. 

But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.

As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers. 

It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully. 

There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity. 

“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”

Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.

Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive. 

The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again. 

Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well. 

You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while. 

All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was. 

And maybe he is. 

But not to you. 

The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow. 

You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him. 

The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world. 

And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you. 

It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.

You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find. 

Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos. 

They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.

All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside. 

Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor. 

Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.

You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding. 

You needed this.

A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system. 

You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth. 

“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing. 

“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer. 

You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.” 

Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target. 

In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own. 

Yoongi. 

God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.

Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself. 

Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real. 

And he looks like sin incarnate. 

Fitting. 

Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?

Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you. 

Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.

When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on. 

Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved. 

Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.

They were all you. 

Maybe his plan was working after all…

“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.

What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.

“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”

He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.

“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.

A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises. 

“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”

Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night. 

Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse. 

Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him. 

You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.

“What do you think?”  

Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.

“May I touch?”

You don’t hesitate. 

“Yes.” 

Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.

“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body. 

This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.” 

Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now. 

Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening. 

The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you. 

“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..

Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant. 

Beautiful. 

“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says. 

“My birthstone,” you reply.

“Your birthstone.”

You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.

“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”

“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you. 

Makes you wonder what he promised.

Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers. 

Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.

Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you. 

Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring. 

What is he doing to you?

“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear. 

“Mmm?”

“Would you like to dance?”

Fuck would you ever, but wait— 

“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse. 

Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.

“Is that something you’d be interested in?” 

“Yes.”

You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly. 

“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.

Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.

Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’. 

They don’t know about Yoongi.

They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him. 

You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides. 

You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it. 

You’ve decided. 

To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power. 

To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years. 

You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back. 

But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.

You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.

“Let’s go to yours.”

“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”

Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club. 

“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.

Fuck, you don’t want to wait. 

And apparently neither does Yoongi. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

“Yes, but what does tha–”

“Close your eyes for me, Love.”

Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate. 

So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil. 

You trust Yoongi. 

“That's a good girl.” 

One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft. 

Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people? 

But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.

What?

“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on. 

Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.

“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.

Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get. 

He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.

“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”

You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight. 

There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent. 

Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.

Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.

“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.

He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea. 

Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh. 

You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”

You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off. 

“Please what, Love?”

“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”

“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?” 

“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.

“There she is.”

Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs. 

They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you. 

Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.

“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.” 

His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.

“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”

You nod, but that’s not good enough for him. 

“I need to hear it.”

“I understand.”

“Understand what?” He pushes.

“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge. 

“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.

The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.

“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”

Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”

He spares you one completely unsympathetic look. 

“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”

Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”

His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.

“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded. 

Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter. 

If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.

Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip. 

“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”

He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.

He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue. 

“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.

“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.

He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.

“Gotta stretch you out for me first.” 

Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.

“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”

“And if I do?” 

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”

Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”

“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get. 

And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it. 

Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt. 

Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines. 

“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before. 

Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”

“Whatever you want, Angel.”

Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip. 

“Fuck—”

Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him. 

“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”

Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.

“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”

The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it. 

Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it. 

“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.” 

His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures. 

You’re the most powerful person here. 

You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible. 

And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know. 

“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact. 

Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets. 

“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”

His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.

“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”

“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace. 

You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them. 

Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.

This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.

This is about you. 

And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.

You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else. 

You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal. 

Perfect in every single way. 

“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”

He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too. 

“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”

You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”

“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.

“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.

“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”

The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back. 

Not yet. 

You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.

Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling. 

Ever.  

And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more. 

He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence. 

There was only you. 

Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows. 

And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.

It’s time for him to finally claim you back.

“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”

“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”

Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.

“Only for you, Yoongi.”

His thrusts stutter.

“Fuck!”

He’s coming. 

He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance. 

It’s the first time he’s said your name.

And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white. 

You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.

Whatever you want. Whatever you need. 

It’s yours. 

He’ll make it so.

At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.

He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze. 

You got exactly what you wanted.

He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented. 

And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.

“What changed?” 

“Hmm?”

“What about tonight made you change your mind?”

You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?” 

That seductive smirk makes an appearance.

“Yes.”

“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”

Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before. 

“Next time,” he says. A promise.

You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking. 

“What about you?” you ask.

“What about me?”

“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”

He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say. 

“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.” 

“My soul?”

“Mhm.”

“You’ve never asked for mine before.”

“Never needed it.”

At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”

“You.” 

Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him. 

You just know it. 

“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”

You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless. 

You never expected anything like that. 

You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years. 

Kindness. Patience.

The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better. 

Because of you.  

“I don't know what to say.”

“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”

You can do that. 

“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly. 

Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.

“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.

“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell. 

He was yours now. 

The Devil was yours.

King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.  

“Oh thank fuck.”

“Not thank God?” you tease.

Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

#yoongi #min yoongi #suga #min suga #agust d #bts yoongi #bts min yoongi #bts min suga #yoongi x oc #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x oc #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x you #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi smut #min yoongi angst #min yoongi fic #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi au #bts fanfic #bts fic #yoongi scenarios #bts imagine #yoongi imagine #bts smut #bts x fem!reader

[midnightsun-if]

Ahhhh! I just read the MC death questions, author, why did you pull my heart strings like that…but now I want to ask what would be going through the RO’s and the family mind at MC funeral if they didn’t survive?

BEFORE

Koda: Why did this happen? This shouldn’t have happened. Clenched hands press tightly into his thighs, bottom lip wobbling with the force of his thoughts. His bear, that normally lays contentedly dormant within his chest, roars out in the shared agony between them both. Tears, that had not ceased since he had lost you, overwhelm his vision in a murky film, but he no longer has the strength to wipe them away. Why did this happen? Why wasn’t I faster?

Scarlett: No thoughts are prevalent within her mind, everything just a complete echo chamber of her grief, of her enraged agony. Emerald eyes stare unseeingly, having nothing worth looking at any longer, towards the front of the church, only barely aware of the hand still clasped to her shoulder, keeping her in place, keeping the monster within her in check, but she could feel it clawing at her chest even now, just waiting for the chance to finally be free once more. To make sure the world understood the pain, the rage, that’s currently boiling within her, to showcase the heartless beast she had become the moment her mate had been taken from her. No thoughts were present, because she had stopped existing the moment you did.

Cyrus/Cyra: Failure. Failure. Failure. The single word, the single taunt, is all that they register. A simple truth that they had deluded themself into believing wasn’t one, that they had let themself think they could be more: You’re not that, my darling Phoenix. You’re so much more. The words, echoed within your sweet tone, from days that had long since passed, fill their mouth with an acidic twang, settled over their tongue with the same bitterness that wells within their chest. Something that used to bring them comfort, a reprieve from the weight they carried, only brought them pain now, because you were wrong. Wrong to think that they were anything else, that they were anything more, for how could they not be? If they were more then you’d still be here. They would still have you.

Quinn: You need to rest. They wouldn’t want this. It’s the last shred of humanity pleading with them, hoping that the reminder of their mate would stem the ongoing rage, the ongoing agony, but it didn’t. In fact, it only made things worse— the reminder of what had been lost sending a bitter anger coursing through their veins. Claws extended, teeth bared, they plunge deeper and deeper into the forest, away from what they had left, from the place their mate rested, trying to put distance from reality, to get lost within the confines of nature. But, nothing would be able to keep them from their broken heart. Nothing would stop the enraged howl from ripping itself from their chest. Nothing would stop their pain, their anger, their grief. Because the thing that would, was far behind them buried six feet deep into the ground.

Caden: It’s not fair, their mind howls. I’ve done everything right, I’ve given so much. Why couldn’t I keep this? They know that everything comes with a price, each moment comes with an expiration date, but they had let themself foolishly believe that they’d finally have something that’d be theirs, that they’d finally get to cherish, and be cherished by, another— something that they’ve wanted for so long. They could feel the encroaching darkness beckoning them, luring them towards the tempting silence that it’d bring. But what would happen if they went? Would they lose themself again? Would they lose their memories of you? Of your touch? Of the sound of your laughter? The brilliance of your laugh? What would they give up to not feel this pain anymore? They’d be willing to part with themself, of their own memories, but they couldn’t do so with you. They would never wish to forget you— even if all you bring them now is agony.

Sloane: You’re fault. It’s all your fucking fault. If you had been better, if you had actually done something for once, they’d still be here. For once their wolf has no rebuttal to their anger, no sense of calm in the face of their wrath. Instead, it seems to cave in on itself, seemingly trying to hide from words it knows are true. A bitterness settles heavy over their chest then, anger tasting like fire against their tongue, because they couldn’t simply make themself disappear— couldn’t push back the world like their wolf could. Run away and hide like a coward. They had to face every single day with the knowledge that you were gone, that they’d never see you again, that they’d never be able to hold you. Would never get to hear your laugh, see your smile, or simply hear the sound of your heart beat within your chest. All of that, everything that made the world seem so much brighter, was gone now. Leaving just a monochromatic experience in its wake— everything duller without you their to brighten it with your presence.

Blake: The smell of ash and sulfur fills their nose, dull violet eyes staring into the stretch of darkness before them. Being home, in a place they never wished to return, hadn’t been an event they ever foresaw themself enacting, but how could they stay where they used to be? How could they live in a realm where you didn’t? How could they be somewhere, in a world, where every single thing reminded them of you? This realm, this place, may bring them nothing but misery, but at least it’d finally fit on how they’re feeling on the inside. Because without you? They don’t think they’ll ever feel anything else. So, it’s fitting to be in a place that never give them anything but.

Reginald/Regina: They still, despite themself, expect you to pop out from a corner, a teasing smirk on your face, laughter in your eyes, to tell them that it was all just some form of sick prank. That they’d be able to be in your arms again, that they’d be too overwhelmed with the knowledge that you weren’t gone to get angry at you, that they would finally be able to be home once more. Even days after the funeral, days after they saw your casket get put into the ground, they still slow down when approaching a corner— a part of them still hoping that you’d be on the other side. That they’d be able to see you once more… They’ve never wanted anything more.

BEFORE

Helena: No emotion is present on her face, nothing breaking through the ironclad facade she’s put up. Even if under the mask her entire being was breaking apart, that her very heart is crying out with her grief. She had to be strong, had to keep herself together, for not only her mate, but her remaining children. She couldn’t let herself fall into pieces, couldn’t let herself let loose the agonized screams that were bubbling in the back of her throat. Couldn’t let herself grieve… Not yet… Not when she still had her family to take care of.

Saraya: Dark brown eyes stare unblinkingly at the dark oak casket, at the thing that held her little light. The last embrace that you’d ever receive, that would take you away from her forever. She’d try to bite back a mournful wail, her agony seemingly ripping her chest apart, but she knows she’s unsuccessful when the feeling of her mates arm appears around her shoulder, pulling her tightly in an embrace that’d only be a bandaid to the gaping chasm that had opened within her heart.

Cienna: You had one job and you failed. A bitter smile twists her lips, electric blue eyes dimmed. Keep the family safe. That’s the only thing you’re supposed to do, and you couldn’t even manage that? What kind of leader will you be? Hands clenched tightly, she forces herself not to snarl, to not let her anger overrule her. After all, what could she possibly say to those thoughts? What could she possibly say in the face of the truth?

Persephone: Tears fall without even a semblance of stopping, she couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that you were gone. That she had truly lost her baby sibling, that she hadn’t been able to protect you. How could she have failed so completely? How could she have let this happen? She wouldn’t be able to comprehend anything, wouldn’t be able to think of anything through the mind numbing grief that’s prevalent throughout her entire body.

Christian: Could he have done something different? Have been better in some way? Could he have been worth something for once? Those questions, those uncertainties, would plague him completely. Would haunt his ever waking thought and follow him into his dreams. Because he knows that he could have saved you, could have done something, if he had simply been better. If he had finally been the man you deserved as a big brother.

#midnight sun #asks #ro: blake herrera #ro: sloane addams #ro: c aurelia #ro: r presley #ro: koda kingston #ro: quinn grant #ro: caden randall #ro: scarlett voltaire #sc: helena #sc: saraya #sc: cienna #sc: persephone #sc: christian #scenario asks #angst

[neet-elite]

AHHHH!!! screaming because i'm so damn happy you answered my seb x haley x reader request. i was lowkey refreshing your page to see if you answered it lol.

i have some other ideas too.

One's inspired by your perv sebastian. he's looking for reader and ends up watching her and haley having sex and getting caught and punished for it?

Another is kind of a continuation of what you just wrote? i would love love love to see you write more for it and i was thinking that either seb gets bullied more (bc i too love bullying men) or he gets the upperhand on haley (bc brat taming is also lovely)

Either way, i'm already incredibly pleased you wrote my request! i don't expect you to write more, but i thought that i'd share my thoughts hehe. i love the way you wrote all three of the characters and it was just so perfect <3

Hii!! Thank you for waiting patiently for me, I always love doing requests even if they take me some time to get to, so I appreciate both you sending them in and for your patience!!

Love your ideas, I decided to continue to drabble I already finished to keep things consistent <3 (and because I love bullying men too >:D!)

Thanks again for sending this in! I love the little Seb/Haley/Farmer trio thing going on.

MDNI ♡ Warnings: threesome, (reluctantly) submissive sebastian, degradation, role reversal, rope restraints, sex toys, strap on, saliva

WC: 1419

What you're putting him through has to be grounds for torture at his rate, knees weak and breathing ragged; and you've yet to touch him. He feels dizzy with desire, pained with want for you. His heart aches to soothe your whines and his cock throbs with instinctual greed. And somewhere in the pit of his stomach, he's almost convinced himself that actual torture would be easier to endure than what's currently happening right in front of him. It's bad enough having to watch through his hazy vision as Haley humps into you from behind, pretty pink strap on surely fucking you open for her, but to have you drooling all over his slick covered cock like that too? Absolute agony. He hates it. He loves you.

"What— settle down, sweetheart," Haley interrupts herself to coo at you, commenting on the obscene moans spilling from your pretty bitten lips. Sebastian wants to gnaw on them too, bite and kiss and suck until you remember who's really in charge. The pathetic whimper that follows after Haley's command has his hard and heavy cock just aching to be inside of you already, trembling in the hot airy breaths Haley fucks out of you, tugged out of his pants earlier in a brief moment of hope from his meaner girlfriend. Of course she had no intention on touching him more than necessary.

Freeing his pervert cock only to hover you above his leaking tip, close enough to have fat beads of precum spill for you, not close enough for you to taste it, even with the eager thrusts Haley offers your soaked little cunt. Fuck, he can hear how wet you are. How you gush around the silicone cock, and how it should me him you're creaming around instead.

This is definitely worse than torture, he decides.

"What should I do next, Seb?" Haley finally finishes her half started sentence, gasping for air when her hips refuse to stop fucking into you despite her focus being on how stupidly desperate he likely looks. He's failed to answer the previous three times she's asked for his input, and he doubts he has the power to answer now. Instead, he slowly glances up at her with glassy eyes, cock trembling some more when she smiles down at him; so sweet, that's how he knows she's not being honest. "What's that?" She taunts, voice barely above a whisper for him to gulp at. Pretending he's replied is humiliating, treating him like an animal; yet he's never been harder in his life. Promise. You're so close he thinks to himself as another drip of drool falls from your tongue to his tip. Just a little further, c'mon he tries to communicate with you, pleading to your teary eyes, hoping to get past the blurriness Haley is fucking you into. "Not yet?" She repeats to him for the God knows nth time, and his eyes roll back in response. Still, a broken whine crawls up his chest, balls aching under your dribbles and babbles to shut you up, stuff you full, just like your open mouth is begging him to.

But, all you do is continue to rock above him. Staring right through him, leaving him to admire the dumb look Haley humps you into. All dazed and pretty, mouth agape while your eyes squeeze shut, and he knows how good you feel. It's so fucking tempting, would be so easy to oblige your silent whisper of touch, but you've tied him too tight. The tear stains adorning your cheek catch his attention and he mouths cute at you, wanting for nothing more than to lick at them, clean your pretty face up; only to ruin it again with his cock.

And yet he can't deny how utterly good it feels to have Haley's watchful eye on him at all times, giggling at the way he writhes in his binds, struggles to keep your attention on him when your girlfriend is fucking you stupid. What a disgusting pervert he is, right? Getting off to being deprived. He probably deserves this kind of mistreatment, edging himself without even being touched, encouraged to continue leaking all over himself till a puddle forms beneath him by your consistent drops of drool. "Gross." Haley states bluntly, punctuating her distaste for his depraved display with quicker thrusts into your tiny cunt—God he wants to be inside of you so bad, wants to be the one making you sob so sweetly, make you feel every cock pulse your moans coax out of him—leaving you to sputter and whine over his fat and needy cock.

You gasp his name like it's his fault you're close, and he very nearly cums on the spot with you. Could feel it crawling up his spine, tightening in his tummy when paired with your tongue sticking out, like you want to suck him dry just as much as he wants to choke your throat with cum. He's messy with you now, unsure which parts of his body are covered in his own precum or your spit, and the thought alone causes his hips to stutter. Just a small motion, because if he gave in any further to his baser instincts, then he'd be punished for it. He can't cum yet, Haley hasn't said okay. Her glossy lips purse at him once more, and he winces in preparation for more bullying. So fucking hot.

She lets out a low tut and he has to will himself to hold back, to not rut his hips just a little further in the air in hopes of shooting his seed at least against your lips. Spoil her pristine dominance, mark you as his own. Haley sticks her tongue out at him in a childish gesture and it's an all too cute action for the current situation. The idea of a ruined orgasm destroys him, so through a tight jaw his frustration gets the better of him. "Don't—" he pleads, the opening of his mouth causing a sharp moan to spill when you whimper at how cracked his voice is. How broken he is by now, rendered useless before you; and all Haley had to do was put your mouth an inch out of reach. Gross, Haley was right. How down bad he is for you both, how ridiculously easy it is to have him panting and fawning all over you and Haley. Just a little cunt in his face, a mean word from Haley, and he's ready to burst. Dumb dog.

And just like a dog, he only thinks for himself. Don't get him wrong, he loves you, so much so that it hurts sometimes; but all he can think about right now is wetting his cock and filling you up. That's it. There's no more room in his stupid perverted mind to imagine anything better than relieving himself of the tension built up in his whole body, muscles taut and cock jerking for attention with every harsh exhale you offer him; because that's all Haley allows.

Thankfully though, it seems Haley is satisfied with her teasing for now. Content instead to lean over you and press her tits against your back, making sure not to push you far enough to pleasure Sebastian; no, she's not that nice. From the new angle he can see the way her manicured nails dig into your ass for purchase, and he wants to kiss you better. "Feel good, baby?" She whispers against your neck, leaving a comparatively soft trail of kisses down your spine while she fucks you almost as well as Sebastian does. The way she talks as if Sebastian no longer exists gets to him in the best way possible, his head thrown back in sheer horny frustration while his legs attempt to stretch out for comfort, but the rope you tied disallows him. You barely offer a nod back before she's doing what she does best again; bullying. "Are you close?" She questions, and though Sebastian is in the right enough mind to register her words as a thinly veiled threat, you're far too fucked out to recognise the hidden meaning.

You nod before he has a chance to shut you up. See, this is why your mouth should be warming his cock. If only you'd disobey your girlfriend and listen to your (not) much nicer boyfriend, then maybe you wouldn't be teary eyed pouting right now.

"Not yet." Haley reminds you kindly, slowing her thrusts down to a crawl.

#❤️‍🔥request #sdv smut #stardew valley smut #sdv sebastian smut #sdv haley smut

[seijorhi]

gorgeous, gorgeous girls have oikawa tattoos 😌 oh it’s STUNNING rhi love the panel you chose, love the quote, love it love it love it

was this your first one?? would love to hear about the ✨experience ✨

(also, there’s now a raven emoji but does the pigeon have too much sentimental value atp 🤔)

- birdie

ahhhh thank you babeyyyyyy

no actually, this is my second tattoo (and oh boy do i have non haikyuu plans for my third and fourth already fgdhjchvfdjs

it took about two hours and honestly aside from one or two spots the pain wasn't too bad at all – it's like someone scratching over sunburn. not pleasant, but not agony. having said that on the scale of painful places to get tattooed the forearm falls pretty low haha.

but yeah i went to this cool tattoo parlour in osaka and was tattooed by a big japanese guy with dreadlocks and all in all it was a fun experience and (i think) he did a great job! :))

#also there was this really pretty girl who worked there #and she kept coming over to check out the tattoo/progress #and i think i fell a little in love with her #rhi answers #🐦 anon #if you wanna change emoji's just add it to the next ask #til then i'll keep using the pigeon haha

[morgansunflower]

I'm Not Going Anywhere

Warnings:suggestive content, explicit language, angst, bombs, vomit and injury

Words:1421

Arthur's notes! Third P. O. V

Requested taglist @too-strong-to-lose

Everything comes crashing down as, Jason must go through major life changes.

Stephanie, Damian and Jason stood in the old creepy abandoned warehouse. They had been tailing the illegal meta-human trafficking unit Joker had recently been involved in. The thought of Joker with the power to hurt more kids made Jason sick. They had Joker's henchman in custody. He had said that the briefcase was in his car. Unfortunately the trunk was unable to be unlocked with Jason's lock pick.. According to Bats. Inside the case had the files on the whereabouts of the missing meta-teens. Though it was no easy task as they knew something else had to be amiss. Jason unlocked the car door with his own lockpick. He began searching the glove box for the special key. Stephanie found the key under a pouch of the seat.

"I win!!"

Her little brother snatches it from her. Damian began to unlock the the trunk. Jason's heart feels terrified as his ears hear a slight familiar ticking sound. He looks down to the bottom of the car to see the bomb.

"FREEZE DAMIAN DON'T MOVE!!" Jason shouted in Arabic

Damian stopped as if on instinct "the detonators tied to the lid" he said trying to sound more confident than what he actually felt.

Stephanie looked down to where Jason did having not understanding what he said. Her stomach turns realizing the truth.

-"is everyone alright?" Y/N asked through the intercom.

"we're OK love" her spouse responded.

-"Nightwing and I are, on our way!" Batman announced

"we're fine old man" Jason snarled approaching Damian

"how far did you turn the key?!" Stephanie asked

"almost entirely" Damian swallowed hardly

Jason places his hands within a inch of Damian's "don't let it snap back ok?" Damian nods "let go" Jason ordered, Damian did just that Jason swiftly took the key

"ok I'm faster than both of you, get out of here" he told Steph and Dami

-"Jason!!" Y/N shouted.

"no we're not leaving you Ja-" he cuts his sister off

"not up for discussion! Go! NOW!!" Jason shouted

Stephanie takes Damian's hand pulling him away. They make it to, Y/N, Bruce and Grayson.

"the car was wired to a bo--" BOOM!!! Everyone lays down to shield from the explosion, the bomb erupts.

Jason feels like he's back in that building, alone, bleeding.. Beaten. Batman stood feeling the same feeling he did when.. When he lost Jason. He runs through the explosion with his family. Jason survived the explosion. However he now laid in a hospital bed in intensive care. Y/N broke as the Dr explained all that had happened. The explosion had caused a piece of shrapnel to thrust into spine causing his previous nerve damage to return. From when Joker took him away. Bruce tried to find a way to regain his son's ability to walk. Y/N walked into the room. Jason was covered in bandages, his face redden with bruises. She covers her face as the cry came to her lips. He pulled his wife into his arms as he began to cry his own tears. She laid beside him as he began to sob. Jason's mood remained angered. He barely spoke to anyone. The couple stayed at the Manor much to Jason's annoyance. Jason stayed in the bedroom while sitting the wheelchair. He felt so defenseless, helpless.. Alfred had made cookies as everyone was downstairs. Well.. Almost everyone.

"what are you doing here B? You here to tell me that I should come downstairs.. "

"no though you should--" Bruce's paternal instinct shoots through him as, Jason yelled.

"AHHHH!! F-FUCK!!" Jason yelled in agony from his horrible muscle spasm.

Bruce quickly ran into the bathroom to look in the cabinet, and anywhere for medicine. There was nothing. He then looked in the pouch attached to Jason's wheelchair. All he found were snacks, a fidget spinner and some books.

"Meds Son?!" Bruce said

Bruce takes the pain killer he had in his pocket. He opens the bottle quickly and tried to put the medication in his hand but Jason pushed his hand away. Bruce let Jason grip his wrist. Jason takes heavy breaths as the bone crushing pain subsidies. He let's go of Bruce's hand, and then rubs his hand down his face.

"I'm-I'm good.." he shaked

Jason sees the bottle of medicine Bruce was trying to give him. He grabs it, throwing it against the wall breaking it.

"Jason" Bruce cautioned

"get out Bruce" he sadly said

"you have to take better care of yourself son"

"you think I'm not?" Jason coldly said remembering what took his birth mother away

"Jason are you ok? I heard you shouting" Y/N asked walking into the room.

"I'm fine babe" he assured as she leans down to him

She gently wraps her arms around him. He hugs her taking a deep breath. Bruce sighed picking up the thrown medicine bottle. Y/N looked seeing it. She kisses his neck and cups his face looking him in the eye.

"I don't want to see you in so much pain Jay" she pleaded.

"I can't" he breathed out through his mouth, feeling defeated.

He rolled his wheelchair back to see his brothers and his sisters, peeping their heads from the hallway.

"I'm fucking fine you guys" Jason told his siblings

Days went by Jason was in the living room sitting alone. He was trying to read to distract his groans the dull ache after the muscle spasm again.

"you're in pain.. Perhaps the Lazarus--"

"Damian! Don't.." Jason looks to his little brother, he shakes his head "that won't fix me"

"so you've accepted this as your fate?!" Damian snarled

"don't take, that tone with me twerp I saved you remember"

Damian slapped Jason's head he gripped the kids hand gently putting it down. Damian moves his hand away abruptly. He reaches to hit his arm but stops.

"this pain will only fester and destroy you" he warned

"I'm not dying believe me I'd know"

"you cannot joke about this! This is serious Jason!" Damian yelled to him

"you think I don't know that? I am the one fucking stuck in this damn thing!" Jason snapped

"because of me!!" Damian shouted on the verge of tears.

"Dami.. Had it been you, I'm not sure you would have made it kid. Besides its my job to protect your ass"

"I know..." he mumbled turning away in shame.

Jason reaches to him but Damian steps back. He reaches further

"ahh! I'm gonna fall" Jason jokes

Damian hugs his big brother. Jason takes a deep breath rubbing the kids back.

"you really think I'm going to let something like that take me away again. You are stuck with me kid"

7 months later. Jason's muscle spasms had calmed down but no hope came to regain his ability to walk. He laid in the bed with his wife. His arm over her chest as her back was rested up against him. It was only a few weeks ago that they were finally able to be intimate. It was different but it still took their hearts on a beautiful journey to explore new possibilities. Jason wakes abruptly feeling his wife quickly leave his arms. He blinks trying to make himself adjust to the sunlight shine into the room. He hears her throwing up into the toilet in their bathroom

"I'm coming Hon!!" he announced

He unfolds the wheelchair at his side of the bed. He sits in and then went into the bathroom. He holds her hair back. He reaches up to the cloth as she finishes. He wipes her face. She reaches to flush the toilet. She moved to lay on his legs. He began to rub her face and then back. He kisses her head. He pulls her up to lay in his lap. He rolled the wheelchair into their room so she wouldn't smell the vomit. He began to rub her cheek lovingly.

"you know before I ended up like this we'd been trying to start our own family.. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to make that happen. Not that the sex hasn't been incredible" he smirked kissing her "I guess what I'm trying to say is.. I'm so happy that you're pregnant" he said trying to keep his emotions calm.

She began to cry at his sweet words and hugged him "I was going to surprise you with a gift tonight"

"I figured you would eventually baby. I just am too excited to keep my mouth shut" he grinned.

#Jason Todd X Wife! Reader #Jason Todd X Reader #Angst #wheel bound #wheelchair #pregnancy #Batfamily #Batfamily angst #Hurt comfort #Worried Batfamily #Batfam #Bruce Wayne is a good parent

[barclaysangel]

Idea:

Imagine the first time Jake sees Devon under the moonlight, first time he sees Devon transform. He tells Jake to run and he does, but it doesn’t erase the the fact he sees how painful it is.

He witnesses, first hand, on what it must feel like to transform. He watches as Devon’s bones crack, hair grows, tears roll down his cheeks as his neck snaps this way and that way, fist clenching and unclenching as he tries to hold it together but he fails. He’s scratching at himself, causing new scars, in almost unbearable pain and agony.

And imagine at 5 am, Jake hears someone knocking at his dorm door. He opens it, and there’s Devon, in a t-shirt and boxers, wounds open and bloody and he’s clearly trying to keep himself conscious, shaking and shivering like a newborn before he just says “I didn’t know where to go, my dorm is too far from the woods…”

Imagine Jake patches him up, and lets him sleep on his bed, and imagine Jake is just looking at him with concern and sadness.

Imagine this is where the famous tie swap au happens.

AHHH THEY MAKE ME SO SAD

AHHHHHH THIS IS SO PAINFUL AHHHH

[slifarianhawk]

Chapter 34: Stay Safe

I closed my eyes. Deep breath in and long breath out. The plane's take-off was swift and easy. Albert squeezed my hand, "If I had to guess Vladimir had done something to make you hate flying my dear?"

"Very much, my love," I sigh laying my head on his strong chest, "he made me an unwilling member of the mile-high club after the Rockfort Island incident. It was less than pleasant."

"I know dearheart, however, I promise you. It will never happen again my precious lotus." Albert said reassuringly.

"Are you sure that Chris will receive the message?" I asked staring down at my hands.

"I'm sure love, I even made sure to instruct Mr. Coen where to deliver it to. " he sighed placing n g his hand gently on my head," there is no need to worry dearheart. I am sure that Chris will back off." Albert said stroking my hair

"Thank you Wesk" I smiled up at him.

"It was your idea my lotus, but for right now we should worry about my sister and why she would want to destroy Pheonix Corps. After all my dear, you and your people are a valuable asset to me" Albert said removing the armrest and placing me next to him.

"I know love." I cuddled up to his arm, "I can't help but feel bad for O'Brian."

Albert chuckled sadistically, rubbing my hair more," Why do you not rest up my dear."

"I have something I need to check on something before we start to work on my research into the angelis virus," I said pulling out my laptop.

"Why not check on your idiot brother? It might ease your mind my lotus." Albert said kissing my lips.

I let out a small chuckle, "Alright then my love, but you keep your eyes closed, I have to keep my access to the B.S.A.A network a secret."

"Of course dearheart, I'll go fetch us some water," Albert said walking away.

I quickly typed up my password, pulling up the B.S.A.A. cameras and network. Clive was walking over to Chris holding a small box, my heart dropped "Here we go."

/Chris P.O.V.\

Clive walked up to my desk.

"Clive, what's wrong?"I asked seeing a sour look on his face.

"You got a package, Redfield. it was delivered by one of the Phoenix Corps. Agents.

"I'm not really in the mood, Clive," I sigh "Since she sent one of her agents I'll take it though."

"I think it's from him, Chris," Clive said looking at me dead in the eyes.

I ripped open the package and there was a disk in a case and a small package wrapped in pink and light blue paper.

Turning the disk case over," from t,".

"I highly doubt that Chris, please be careful," Clive said.

I placed the disk in the DVD drive of my computer.

Clive looked shocked," is that agent Tabitha."

"Hello there Chris, It appears you found out what I have been looking for." Wesker said holding a S.T.A.R.S. knife, "Look, Chris, it's your sister, my wife"

I stared in shock at what I saw.

It was T, she was naked and collared kneeling on a floor. Wesker's hand held a chain leash. My sister was blindfolded before my greatest enemy.

"NO! T!" I slammed my fist on my desk.

"I'm sorry Chris he found out I contacted you." T was sobbing as wesker slashed her back with his knife.

"It brings me such pleasure seeing and hearing her cry out in pain," he laughed

"CHRIS PLEASE HIC HELP ME. I CAN'T NOT AGAIN. PLEASE ALBERT HAVE MERCY ON ME." She cried out in agony.

"Be quiet my dear you deserve this for being such a naughty girl. Listen to her, Chris! She is begging for a savior knowing no one is coming for her, not even you, her hero brother who saved her from Russia." Wesker's voice sounded like he was in pleasure and I heard a weird buzzing sound, a vibrator.

Damn you Wesker she is your wife!

"Mmmm Her screams, cries, and moans are music to my ears." He laughed wickedly with a lash to her breast.

"Chris please help me. Ahh gods damn you Wesker. Chris, I'm what he wanted! Don't forget me please." She cried

"the sounds echoing off these walls are a masterpiece," wesker said laughing louder.

"AHHHH FUCK! PLEASE WESK DO NOT DO THIS." T moaned out from another lash.

"And this is on someone I once loved, Chris. Imagine if I got my hands on Claire. That would be most men's dream fucking two sisters at the same time." Wesker continued to laugh as he pulled on the leash attached to T's neck " Memorize my dear pet's face and body, Chris. This will be the last time you see her. Oh don't worry I'll take extra good care of your sister, she will make a lovely pet for me."

He held the knife to her throat as she screamed.

Clive took the disk and smashed it on the floor, "that was horrifying for me I can't imagine how you feel Redfield."

"I'm overwhelmed, Clive. This makes me feel awful for not stopping her." I said crying in a blind rage.

"What's in the cute box?" O'Brian asked pointing the the small box on my desk.

"No clue." I opened up the box and instantly felt nauseated, pregnancy tests. Why would he send me pregnancy tests? Unless he intended to.

"O'Brian I think he's going to knock up my sister!" I shouted throwing my cheap-looking desk from Ikea. The computer and family photo on my desk were trashed.

"Chris go home and calm down you will be a help to no one as an angry mess. Until we have the resources to save her I am marking her as a prisoner of Wesker's. I'm sorry Chris you may want to go home and call Claire, Barry, or someone." Clive said rubbing my back.

"You're right I'm no use to anyone here right now" I sigh picking up the photo from the floor a Crack formed along T body almost hinting at her fate.

I walked off, over to the staircase that excited the office. Once I got to the stairwell I closed the door behind me slamming my fist on the concrete wall as the image of her nude body flashed across my mind. I can't abandon her again but at the same time Clive was right we didn't have enough men or resources to save her, just stay strong t.

Damn, I need a stiff visit with my friend Jack Daniel's since I'm out of Johnnie.

"Please T, just stay safe for me. I can't lose anyone else." I choked out behind my angry tears.

Wesker, you will pay! I'll make sure of it.

Hey everyone slifarianhawk here and boy do I have a lot of work to do. I was in a mental hospital and got a lot of writing 72 pages to be precise done. All for re arch angel my thanks go out to my treatment team and nurses who all encouraged me while I was in there. Thank you for reading my name is Silfarianhawk and I'm not so far away 🪷

#albert wesker #resident evil #wesker #wesker x reader #wesker x oc #albert wesker x reader #albert wesker x oc #re wesker #resident evil wesker #chris redfield

[i-sveikata]

I read the chapter for several hours and now it's already late at night but I don't regret anything. I couldn't put it down, this tension between them, this chase, this passion and danger just captured me. I'm EXCITED. Pete who thought about Macau warms my heart so much 💓 Vegas my boy your father inspired you that you mean nothing and are not worthy of anything but look who is chasing you, who so desperately wants to prove to you that there is a way out and he is next to you 🥺 I’m so sorry for Vegas for what his father inspired him that darkness and hatred are all he has and all he is worth..... And Pete who finally knew the full depth of Vegas's trauma and how painful it is to realize how much your loved one is broken and breaking before your eyes 💔 I knew what was going to happen in this chapter but the way you described it, that line between fighting and shooting and Vegas and Pete being excited, it was just WOW. I was so tense the whole time. That parallel that all the time Vegas was running after Pete and begging him to be with him, but here Pete finally realizes how much Vegas means to him and runs after him all the time, please stay so WE COULD BE.....Thanks for all these emotions 🫂💙I hope Pete makes Vegas comfortable after waking up and he himself will be fine (it was too emotional for him) I want them to finally be happy, or traumatized mafia boys in love🥺But I feel Korn won’t leave them alone😭 Too many letters, but I’m so grateful for this work, thank you for your work, it’s incredible 🫶

omg sorry i always hear about everyone reading it so late at night for them and these timezones are straight up working against us!!! but to be fair i did post it like 1AM in my timezone too lol so im just as sleep deprived as you probably hahaah.

that makes me so happy to hear!! it was literally the culmination of the fic, the penultimate show down without it actually being the complete end so i really hope after all the build up and tension that it delivered!!

omg like???? so soft of him tbh i really wanted to build on that final scene on the show- like where macau is so comfortable around pete that he cuddles up to him with vegas and it just seemed to work so well. pete might be tough and practical to the point of hurtful sometimes but he does care!!!

ugh yeah we really did see the worst effects of vegas' trauma this chap, like here he has something good with pete, pete who has already given him one too many chances than what he deserves and even with him running off constantly during the coup, pete is still chasing him, still trying to pull him back from that ledge. so glad kan is dead now because i dont know if vegas would have ever made the choice to turn his back on him. not unless kan took his intentions to hurt pete further and it literally came down to the two of them in the room (like that time in the safe house when kan nearly killed him) and even if it had ended like that, and vegas had chosen pete like we all knew he would, it would have still been agony for vegas.

pete is absolutely going to take his caring up to eleven once he's fully conscious again and can get in to see vegas. he is going to be annoying so many doctors with vegas, whilst also making sure vegas follows their post op recovering instructions lol. but we all know vegas secretly loves being taken care of so the both of them will be living their best unhinged lives.

no spoilers but korn has some more tricks up his sleeve he always does but now that pete isn't restricted by his agony of not betraying the main family anymore i do think korn is going to be in for a surprise.

ahhhh youre so welcome!! im so very glad that you liked it :)

#fic asks #ill fill the graveyards until i have you

[starrose17]

ok i'll bite cos youve got me intrigued. i wont ever play hogwarts legacy but who are these people Sebastian and Ominus that you keep reblogging about?

AH HA!

Okay yes thank you I'm glad someone asked but there will be MANY spoilers ahead!!!

Both Slytherin boys, 15 years old, basically they're your characters best friends in Hogwarts Legacy regardless of the House you choose, and have a integral part to play on if you choose to go down the good or evil route.

Ominis Gaunt is a parseltongue, and blind, and his "sentient" wand pulls him around Hogwarts. Possible great uncle to Voldemort (according to the dates in the HP wiki), his family would torture the local muggles by using Crucio on them (his brother possibly Marvolo Gaunt it's never officially stated in the game).

As a child Ominis refused to participate, so his family used Crucio on him until he relented and used Crucio on the muggles too, something he's never been able to forgive himself for. Because of this he hates the ties to the dark arts that his family has and distances himself from them entirely, and anything to do with the dark arts in general.

Which is what makes the angst so great and the shipping so great when it comes to his best friend, Sebastian Sallow.

Sebastian is crucial to the story, he has a sister named Anne who was cursed and is in constant pain (it's a long story i won't go into but it's a big part of the plot of the game) and who had to leave Hogwarts to remain at home with her uncle as their parents died a few years back.

In a desperate attempt to try and cure her Sebastian delves into the dark arts and teaches himself all 3 unforgiveable curses across the game (he can teach your character too if you choose), which causes the dark arts hating best friend Ominis to constantly be berating him, yet constantly forgiving him, yet constantly hating him for choosing this path, yet constantly refusing to leave his side and AHHHH I LOVE IT!

Some parts of the game get REALLY dark, like there's one quest where you're finding this secret scriptorium that belonged to Salazar Slytherin, and your character is trapped with both of them in a small corridor with nothing but a dead body belonging to Ominis' aunt, a locked door with screaming faces on it, and the word CRUCIO scratched on the floor.

The only way forward is to cast Crucio on one of the others, which the aunt couldn't do because she was trapped there alone so she starved to death. Ominis refuses to do it despite the fact he's the only one that's done it before, so Sebastian either casts it on your character, or you can cast it on him. Either way, poor Ominis standing there only able to hear one of his best friends scream in agony while the other uses a dark curse must be torture for him! (excuse the heart eyes oh baby the angst).

I mean throughout the game Sebastian uses Imperio to make a goblin stab himself instead as he was about to kill Anne, he also murders his own Uncle using Avada Kedavra, and at the end you and Ominis can either turn him over to the authorities (which ends with you hearing he's been expelled and awaiting trial), or you can keep it all a secret. Either way there's Azkaban angst or forgiveness between the deeply damaged Ominis who just cannot turn away his best friend despite the darkness that surrounds him, he will stick with him always <3<3<3<3

Plus there's also a ton of flirting that goes on, between them and your character. My favourite is just before the crucio part where we're all exploring in pitch black corridors:

Sebastian: "Hmm, a dark ominous corridor......my favourite."

Ominis: "...no comment."

I literally guffawed at that, a literal guffaw, I mean what were the writers actually trying to say here because it's damn obvious and yet... XD LOL

Plus around the time you first meet Sebastian (depending on what House you chose), you meet him during the dueling lesson and he just looks at you and says, "Time to give you a proper Hogwarts welcome." in this like proper sultry cheeky voice there's no other way of describing it.

Ahem, so, yeah...I might love them just a bit.

Ah, feels good to be back in the HP fandom again.

#sebinis #gaullow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt

[shinobusupremecy]

hi ELI ITS BEEN A WHILE!! HRU?? ive been doing okay and i hope u r too!! i've finally wrote shit after like. years ☹ talking to ppl kinda sucked for a bit but now i feel socializing hehe

if you dont mind just dropping a small request! just a lil drabble or hcs, whatever your prefer, shinobu with an s/o who's an absolute simp for her? like, she'd be just doing her own thing and her s/o's just have this huge love struck grin on their face... slays demons? #1 cheerleader. "omigosh she smiled at me aoi-chan :D" "you are literally her gf." ive been feeling a bit of shinobu love recently >:)

HAVE A NICE DAY, THANKS IN ADVANCE!

Shinobu x gn!simp reader

A/N: AHHHH HIIIII! I'VE BEEN DOING GOOD AND I AM GLAD YOU'RE DOING OKAY! AND STOP BY WITH A REQUEST ANYTIME, I DON'T MIND AT ALL. FNAOWAO I LOVE THIS REQUEST!

I’M SO SORRY IF THIS IS TOO LONG, I TRIED TO WRITE IT AS SHORT AS POSSIBLE

Art source

"ARGHH-!” You let out a pained yell as you felt your rib bones breaking on impact with the demons fist. Before you could retaliate the demon kicked your stomach, sending your back into a tree, head slamming against it. 

“Y/N!” You heard Shinobu yell. You tried to take quick shallow breaths, looking up at the sky to try and distract yourself from the pain. 

Suddenly you heard the demon shriek and you looked down to see Shinobu stabbing the demon several times with her sword. 

“YESS SHINOBU!-*cough* KICK HIS ASS UNTIL SUNRISE! MAKE HIM SUFFER!” Shinobu tried to suppress a smile, you were always her #1 cheerleader moments like this. It gives Shinobu such a rush. 

The demon was getting weaker, fighting with less accuracy. 

“I pity you alot, from what I’ve heard you only attack women because you never could find one when you were human. I wanted to give you a more merciful death but, I was out of stock” You heard the faint sound of liquid and you knew Shinobu was switching poison. 

You could only blink and the demon was on the ground writhing in agony, blood pooling out of the demon, pained scream turning into a choked one. You shuddered. 

You looked to your left and it seemed like Shinobu was safe, with one sigh of relief you closed your eyes, letting your tired body sleep. 

-

You suddenly heard someone sitting down, laying things beside them. You slowly opened your eyes, getting greeted with light shining down on your eyes. 

“Hello Y/N, welcome to the world of the living!” Shinobu giggled. You smiled feeling butterflies flutter in your stomach. That genuine smile she gives while the morning sun shines down on her face. She looked ethereal.

“Come on Shinobu, I couldn’t have been gone for that long” You smiled amd Shinobu just shook her head. 

“Hmm, you’ve been asleep for long enough” She said as she kissed your forehead. The butterflies fluttered more wildly in your stomach, ready to burst out any second. 

“Well at least you woke up in good timing. I brought you breakfast” You slowly rose up looking at the breakfast that stood on the table. Shinobu gave you the plate and you ate. 

You offered her some but she insisted that she already ate before she came to you. You watched her as she read a book, the sunshine still shining down on her face making her look ethereal. 

You smiled, having a lovesick grin on your face. You looked at her with hearts in your eyes. Your moment however was interuppted when Aoi nearly stormed in the room looking frustrated as ever. 

“I can’t believe Zenitsu and Inosuke! They’re causing ruckus again! I tried to stop them but they are just so impossible!” Shinobu sighed and rose up. 

“Those two” Shinobu said with an angry smile, vein popping out of her forehead. She turned back to you, her expression much kinder. “I’ll return soon to keep you company” She said, kissing your forehead and giving you a smile. 

As Shinobu walked away you looked at Aoi with sparkle in your eyes.

“omigosh she smiled at me Aoi!” You squealed, fanning your hands. 

“She’s litterally your girlfriend” Aoi replied with a deadpan expression.

Unbeknownst to you both Shinobu walked towards Inosuke’s and Zenitsu’s room, trying to stifle her laugh.

#🦋eli writes #kny #kny x reader #kny x y/n #kny x you #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer x you #demon slayer shinobu #shinobu #shinobu kochou #shinobu kochō #shinobu x reader #shinobu x you #shinobu x y/n #THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE

[numetalpuppygirl]

what i'm listening to 9/5/2023 (song notes under cut)

spot. link//yt link

Laura Les - Haunted: haunted. by laura les.

Laura Les/osno1 - ditch a body in the laundry (feat. Dylan Brady): i'll make no secret of it; i've been a sad little dog this past month. and this song is like PERFECT sad little dog soundtrack material (the whole ep is, and lots of laura's work if we're honest... but more on that later). there's this absolutely ice-cold novocaine hatred instilled in it, the kind of agony that stings the skin because the very action of having to exist as a physical animal hurts so bitterly. i'm really terribly obsessed with it and have also cried a lot to it and i really like the addition of dylan because while his part is short it's very good. links to this post also

House Of Pain - On Point: i lovvvve house of pain omg ^-^ their second album is kind of a cult classic and while idk if i'd say i like it better than the first, it's still real good. and this is a banger single. that horn riff? awesome. we did this one for videos night (which i am still planning more of!!) and it was fun. there is a little surprise slur moment in the last verse which is. y'know. but as far as the sound goes i think this is basically unparalleled, i could listen to songs that sounnd just like this forever and ever

Radiohead - How To Disappear Completely: did i mention that i was sad. bc i was. this was another song i turned to when lying in bed late at night and just really going through it. the idea of being able to disappear off to somewhere, anywhere that wasn't where i was...... well you get it. tears a gal up. it's almost like this is a good song on a good album or something

Madness - One Step Beyond: yeah okay a couple songs from the skaugust WILT stuck around. i just adore that fucking deep growly riff that comes in after the spoken intro, i can never ever get enough of it. and it's so danceable but still maintains that narstyness. good good shit i love ska so terribly much and especially the rockingest rocksteady beat..... of MADNESS

Nirvana - Blew: this should probably be higher tbh but it's close competition. despite remaining relatively unknown when held up next to something like about a girl, blew is SUCH a highlight from bleach (and i do really like bleach). the way kurt's voice lays over the main riff makes it so chunky and layered but it also feels dissonant, like it was accidental or improvised. every day i become slightly more of a nirvana fangirl.... there's worse things to be

Ada Rook - UNDERNEATH IT ALL: GOD i fucking love this album. it can be really dumb sometimes but it's so just. grrrrrrrrrh. ada rook is one of those musicians who just Gets It, i've often said that her music is the type of music i wish i could make. and the addition of ash nerve on this one creates that nice balance between abrasive screaming cyber rage and prettier clean sung choruses and harmonies. kind of the same effect the two achieve on angel electronics projects but i prefer the overall sound of this a lot

King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard - See Me: does anybody have the video of that weird as fuck animation with this song over it....... i watched that and was like idk what to do with this but the song jams i wonder who this is. and i found it in the notes and was like ahhhh that makes sense. the glizzard. and yeah idk the descending melody that kind of quavers around the lead line is just really otherworldly and takes me in right away each time i hear it. it's cool

The Specials - A Message To You Rudy: i feel i've said pretty much everythingg i wanted to say about this song. it's just one of the catchiest damn things ever

House Of Pain - I'm A Swing It: hey they're back!!! this one doesn't stick in my head as much as on point but again the sound is just immaculate and there's always so many corny-but-actually-really-good lines. it also always interests me how much everlast referecnes rock musicians and the like. he knows the audience lol

laura les/osno1 - nothing just hanging out: less of a song really, but still so representative of that coldness that represents me. none of the cemetary stuff is gonna be available on spotify, those are my local bandcamp files, and i don't have an individual upload of this track on youtube nor the time to create one, so i just put in an upload of the full ep. just listen to the whole thing it's really good and not that long. but yeah sorry lol

Mark Morrison - Return Of The Mack: i think this appeared on a previous WILT but i mean. talk about the catchiest things ever!!!!

Crisis Sigil - Blood Semen Box-Elder: a favorite album cut from the new crisis sigil. this release my first proper exposure to the project and mannnn that shit is brutal. this one esp methinks. once again. rook music good

Nicki Minaj - Roman Holiday: was listening to this one because of worstsongever and being like whoever nominated this doesn't know shit. this slaps hard. i was never like especially a nicki fan but this just straight up goes. weird as fuck but that's kind of the appeal. if you want a REAL bad song, that will come later

The Front Bottoms - Au Revoir (Adios): no not this one!! well. maybe a bit. idk i like folk punk but never really cared about these guys that much? but i've met some people recently who do like them and was like yeah i could give this another spin. i do admittedly alwways think of the post that's like "this gif is silent but it still manages to sound like shit." it's not as deep of a song as it's probably supposed to be, but i still think there's something there. a lot of folk punk songs focus around character writing that acknowledge their flaws, including (and sometimes especially) the narrator and this is a good example without coming out and stating it. it piqued my inch rest

Roxy Radclyffe - Exemption's Dominion: i'll be real i don't exactly "get" what this song is about but it is freaky and cool. i was really interested to see the music video when it popped up in my subscriptions. the part of the song that does get stuck in my head is the little two-word pitchshifted phrases in one of the verses

Haggus - Uneducated Politician: someone recommended "mincecore" to me, and these guys in particular. weird as fuck sound but i think it's fun! maybe it's just the bad recording quality but the growls on this track in particular come out sounding reallll fucked up, which is what drew me to this selection in particular. still got a lot to learn about this whole scene but it's made it this far with me!

MC Boing - Car Song: tbh i don't tend to really like danny harle, i don't mind him but it's just not really my deal. this one got me, though, despite being dumb as all fuck. we are driving in a car car car car car car. mc boing indeed

Eminem - FACK: you did this to me, worstsongever (R.I.P.). it's annoying to me that i actually don't completely hate this thing.... it manages to be so stupid it loops back around to being funny for about a minute and then it just gets so old so quickly. but somehow still found itself stuck in my head :( many such cases

#i am on a fucking time budget rn i hope i didn't mess this up at all. it's rpobably fine #*char noises* #talking pop

[realityescapee01]

Stiles' "Villain"

Steo | Stiles x Theo | Character death | Graphic violence | Torture

Spoiler tag do not read if you don't want story spoiler:

Steo love | major heartbreak | Theo goes ballistic | Suicide

Stiles suspected Theo from the moment he saw him.

But he also knows Theo gets things done.

Things needed to be done. Even if it's not good. Even if it's not right.

Stiles grew to love Theo since he came back. Finally accepting Theo's love for him. And never denying his affection for Theo any longer.

Theo will burn the whole world to the ground.

For Stiles.

(Regular - Present. Italics - Past)

"Please!!! Stop! Oh God!! Ahhhh!!!" the man pleaded in a hoarse voice as Theo cut off the last toe he has.

The man cried and pleaded again in between cries of pain. Cries of agony.

He had been in there for days. Toes cut off. Slowly. With a dull hunting knife. Skin cut off bits by bits. And then the wounds were burnt shut.

"Please! Just kill me!!! I don't want this anymore!!! Ahhhh!!!" again, as his feet wounds get burnt.

"Death... is too easy for you." Theo said as he injected the man to keep him awake through the torture.

"Theo!" Scott kicked the door open.

Scott shifted, growled, and ran to the preserve. Shouting and howling. Slashing through the trees he passes by. Scott was angry after a long time.

Theo snarled as he started to cut off the man's fingers.

"Theo!" Liam called out to Theo.

Theo looked back at Liam. Liam saw Theo's eyes and he knew there is no talking Theo down.

Liam screamed and cussed endlessly as he punched the tree Scott and Stiles tied him to on the night of senior scribe.

"Theo... I understand you, I truly do, but this is not right." Scott touched Theo by the shoulder.

Theo growled and shook Scott's hand away.

Sheriff Stilinski clenched his jaw and gripped his gun. He wanted to shoot the guy on the head over and over. He wanted to kill the guy being arrested. The guy being escorted into the FBI car.

He wanted to kill the guy that killed his son.

A big FBI bust gone wrong. And Stiles paid the prize.

"Don't pretend, Scott!!! I know you all want to do it. To make this man suffer for what he did!!!" Theo cut another finger off. "You just can't because you're the good guys!"

Scott and the others didn't speak because they know Theo is right. They all wanted to do this. To make the man that killed Stiles pay. To make him suffer.

Theo looked at Lydia, who was just standing at the entrance of the room.

Scott, Kira, Lydia, Liam, Mason, and Corey watched as the coffin was laid down into the ground. Throwing roses along with it.

Lydia adjusted her sunglasses that were hiding her swollen eyes from crying too much. As she did so, she looked at Theo who was standing from afar, rose still in hand.

Theo had this look in his eyes that Lydia could completely understand. She knew everything Stiles and Theo went through. Stiles confided to her.

How Stiles struggled to deny to himself his feelings for Theo. How Theo pursued Stiles. How Stiles had a hard time finally accepting it. And how incredibly difficult it was for them to admit to the pack about their relationship given Theo's history.

"Stiles is the only good thing that happened to me. After everything I've done. To him. To all of you. He still accepted me when I got back. And this man took him away from me!!!" Theo cut all of the man's fingers off.

Theo broke into the FBI holding cells and took the man who killed Stiles out of it and into one of the Dread Doctors lair.

Theo tied the man down and injected him with something to keep him awake and feeling. He began to gradually electrocute the man. Voltage getting higher and higher but not enough to kill.

He began cutting the man's toes off. Cutting and slicing his skin off and burning the wounds shut. All while keeping him injected and awake. Theo never let the man sleep or pass out. He wanted the man to feel everything. To feel pain. To suffer.

"Stiles fought with us. Supernatural creatures and events. He survived through it all!!!" Theo yanked the man's hair and made him look up to Scott and the others. "And this poor, silly, excuse of a human -a mere fucking human, kills him!!!"

"Please!!! Just get it over with!!!" the man pleaded once again.

"I would keep you alive and torture you! Even so, that is still not enough for the pain I felt and still feel right now!!!" Theo drove the knife through the man's hand.

"Theo..." Lydia walked closer to Theo and touched his hand.

"Lyds..." Theo softened for a second. "You know... Stiles and I..."

"I know, Theo. I know."

The burial was over and everyone began to leave. Theo was still standing where he was. Lydia decided to leave. As she drove her car away, she saw Theo finally move.

It wasn't all a walk in the park. Lydia knew how hard it was. And she was ecstatic when finally, the pack caught up and accepted the two.

The chimera walked closer to the fresh mound of soil where Stiles was buried. Theo kneeled over it and laid the rose on it. Theo has his head down, he was shaking. And Lydia knew Theo was bawling. Lydia looked away and drove away faster as she willed herself not to cry again.

"Then don't tell me you never wanted revenge on this garbage." Theo took the knife out of the man's hand and drove it through the other hand.

"Oh, I do, Theo. I do. We all do... but this is torturing you too. I know, Stiles..." Lydia forced out a little laugh. "Stiles would be okay with you torturing his killer. But I also know that he doesn't want you spending the rest of your life doing that."

Theo knows Lydia is right. He had tortured this man for days. Electrocuted. Dismembered. Broke him mentally. To the point of begging to be killed off.

And Theo is tired. From his own anger and sadness and mourning. He never slept since Stiles died. He is miserable.

"Theo..." Lydia shook his hand.

And Theo finally killed the man. Driving the knife through and across its neck.

Theo took Lydia's hand gently off of his own. "You're all welcome." he said and walked out.

"Theo! Where are you going???"

Theo never answered and never looked back. He just passed Scott and Liam on his way out.

Theo went back to the Dread Doctors lair underground.

And found the syringe used by the doctors to kill chimeras.

"I will find you, Stiles... in another lifetime." Theo said as he injected himself full of it.

-+-+-+ ( complete ) +-+-+-

thank you. more on my master list here

I also have an AO3 account

Like the gifs used here? See source under them. Reblog, do not repost. Thank you all gif creators here ♥️

@steodiscord prompt for September: reincarnation.

#steo #stiles #theo fic #theo raeken #imagine #teen wolf #theo #theo x stiles #stiles x theo #theo raeken x stiles stilinski

[aspiringtrashpanda]

hey there!!! if you're still accepting submissions for the spontaneous drabbles, then here u go :]

setting: training room/field

favorite (scent): lavender

term of endearment: darling

pairing: inuokko

🍙TOGE x YUUTA💍

AHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR PARTICIPATING! I'm honored to write for a fellow inuokko writer! 🥺💕

I did some research out of curiosity for this one, and the idea bloomed to life so perfectly! I hope you enjoy✌🏻

“italics” is sign language

No C/W apply

“Duck!” Yuuta’s voice washed over Toge like a wave of mud, thick and heavy.  His body curled in on itself as he let the command bend his knees and drop his head.

Good thing the demand had been powerful, too, because a katana flew over his head a milisecond later.  Trimming a handful of stray hairs that had stuck up from his scalp on its way, the blade buried itself into the target on the wall behind him, sinking into the padded bullseye with a muted schink!

“Shit!” There was the thud of frantic footsteps across the wooden floor, Yuuta dropping to his knees in front of Toge, “Are you okay, Inumaki-kun?!”

Toge shot him a shaky thumbs up, the effect of his own mirrored Cursed Techniqued fading away as he gained control of his limbs.  He pulled himself to his feet, shrugging off Yuuta’s supprotive hand on his elbow, and rolled his shoulders to loosen his stiff joints.  A swig of cough syrup, and he was ready for the next round.

Yuuta paled, “Um, don’t you want to take a break?  We’ve been at it for a while now and – ”

“Blast away!”

The command that had thrown a special grade cursed spirit into the side of the school like a ragdoll mere months ago managed to push Yuuta to the other side of the room, bringing him to his knees as he resisted the massive force demanding he obey.  

The silence was defeaning, the only sound Yuuta’s low grunt as he strengthened his own energy, reinforced his ears, pushed back against Toge’s demand.  The moment Yuuta’s calves flexed, an indication that he was successfully defying the order, Toge knew it was over.

The tables turned, Toge crumpling to the ground once more as Yuuta stood, winning the battle of wills.  

“Inumaki-kun!” Yuuta sounded more distressed than before, and that was saying something.  First-year Yuuta had been quick to scare.  Second-year Yuuta had full faith in his friends’ strength... And perhaps a more realistic idea of what they could handle than themselves.  Case in point. “That was too far!”  

Yes, it was, Toge thought bitterly to himself as the metallic taste of blood gushed over his tongue, his eyes watering from the pain of his crushed throat.  How else would he ever get stronger, though?  Not only did he have to push himself harder against the strongest sorcerer (other than Gojo, but no one had the patience to put up with that manchild) he knew, but training with Yuuta also allowed him a chance to combat his own technique.  

It was naïve to think we would never face a Cursed Speech user ranked higher than himself.  What if the clan ever came for him?  What then?  Would he bow and return to them like a dog with his tail between his legs at a single word, or would he fight?

The answer laid with training.  And yet, no matter how many hours devoted to strengthening his voice, to working on his agility and hand to hand combat, to maximizing his cursed energy output, the results gleaned were minimal to nothing.  

“Is your throat okay?” Yuuta’s voice was gentle as he helped Toge to a seated position.

This, time Toge did not brush him off.

He tried to speak, blood spraying from his lips as he choked on the liquid seeping from his ruined vocal cords.  His features twisting in agony as he clawed at his neck, panicking seizing his entire body when he realized he couldn’t breathe.

He was drowning on his own blood.

That was new.  

Toge would’ve laughed if he could.  It was just another show of the widening gap between himself and the other second years.  He was pathetic, doomed to one day die from the backlash of his own technique.  

“Here,” Yuuta’s fingers held his broken throat like a shattered glass vase, energy seeping from his palm, warming Toge from the outside in.  The slightest tingle of heat grew into an uncomfortable simmer, to a raging boil as his muscles knit themselves back together.  His vision went blurry as the tears that pricked his eyes poured down his cheeks, the flames lapping at his throat pushing them over the edge.   Too much.  It was all too much.

The pain subsided, along with the burning sensation, leaving Toge blinking frantically, desperate to clear his eyes.  

The first thing he noted was the way his fingers had wound into the sleeves of Yuuta’s uniform.  They appeared stiff, held like claws, like he had scratched and writhed and begged Yuuta to stop.

The second thing he noted was the way Yuuta sniffled, red rimmed eyes peering at him guiltily.  When he spoke, his words were coated with phlegm, “How’s that?”

“Shake,” He croaked, using the back of his hand to wipe at the blood coating his chin.  

“Inumaki-kun,” Yuuta fixed him with a worried frown, his hand moving from Toge’s neck to brush away the tears from his left cheek, “Why?”

“Need to get stronger,” All Toge could see as he signed his answer was the blood staining his hands, tangible proof of his failure.  

Yuuta’s brows knit together, ”You are stronger.”

“Okaka,” The word was but a rasp falling from his lips.  He lifted his hand to rub at the tears trailing down the right side of his face.   When he pulled his hand away, he saw the red, and groaned internally.  He had just smeared blood all over his face.

He was a mess.

“Hold on, I have an idea,” Yuuta got to his feet, holding out his hand to Toge.  “I want to show you something.

A shower, a call to Ijichi that involved a lot of begging and “please don‘t tell Gojo-sensei"s, and an hour and half drive later, Toge was staring out at Lake Kawaguchi.

They sat on a park bench just past a row of vendors, peddling artisonal snacks and hand-crafted wares.  Mt. Fuji loomed in the distance, its reflection a dark shadow on the serene surface of the lake, glittering gold and pink in the sunset, the pool surrounded by fields of purple petals.

Nibbling on their lavender soft-serve ice cream, looking out at the field of bright flowers that had allowed such a tasty flavor, Yuuta broke the companiable silence. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“Takana?” Toge chirped, staring out at the birds soaring across the warm hues of the sunset.  He licked at his cone, the subtle floral sweetness of the cool treat far from overbearing.  

“I wanted to take you here, because, well...” Yuuta’s hand rested on Toge’s knee, the warmth radiating from his palm startling Toge.  He blinked up at Yuuta, his pulse quickening under the ferocity of Yuuta’s gaze.    

Taking a deep breath, Yuuta began, “Inumaki-kun, I wanted to show you how you make me feel.”

Toge gasped, following Yuuta as he gestured to the field of flowers before them.  He smiled bashfully, a rosy blush softening his features as he explained, “I thought about it for a long time, how I could find something that was so you, something that could capture your essence as a whole.  I think lavender works best.”

“Okaka...?” Toge tilted his head to the side.  He didn’t move Yuuta’s hand from his knee.  

“Hear me out, okay?  Don’t worry – This is a compliment!” Yuuta chuckled, his eyes squinting into crescent moons, into that smile that made Toge’s heart do a little loop-de-loop, “There are so many different aspects of lavender, right?  The first thing you notice is its appearance, its pretty purple petals.  Obvious, right?  The rich color is just... Inumaki-kun, your eyes are so beautiful and expressive and full of life and... Okay, get it together, Yuuta.” He used his free hand to drag it over his face, huffing in exasperation.  

Steadying himself, he continued, “The petals match your eyes.  But, that’s not all.  Lavender grows in bushels, thriving in a group, not unlike the way you aren’t meant to be alone, you know?”

Toge felt his eyelids tighten, a lump rising in his throat.

“You were isolated for so long,” Yuuta’s soft voice took on an edge, now, “They told you so many things that were entirely false.  They led you to believe you were a monster.  That’s...” Yuuta squeezed Toge’s knee, “That’s not true, Inumaki-kun.  You bloom brightest when you’re with your friends.  And did you know that you are the one who lifts us up?  You’re always trying to make us laugh, or pranking us, or challenging us to try harder.  You’re meant to be with a group.  You’re meant to be with us.”

Toge knew then, that if he could make it through Yuuta’s speech without crying, that he, in turn, would tell his best friend how he really felt.  

“Then, you notice its scent,” Yuuta accented his phrase with a deep inhale, smiling as the aroma of lavender flooded his senses, “So soft and sweet, but not overly pungent, not offensive in any way.  But it’s light, hidden underneath flashier scents.  You have to be patient, take in the whole bouquet to really experience the subtle notes that lavender provides, just like how your kindness is often misinterpreted when people don’t know how to understand you.”  

Toge sniffled, willing his eyes to dry, dammit!  

“Lavender packs a punch too,” Yuuta chuckled, finally lifting his hand from Toge’s knee, giving him a brief reprieve from the searing heat of his intent, just to cup his chin.  He turned Toge’s face to his, making eye contact, reminding Toge of just how much Yuuta had changed in his time abroad.  “Did you know that lavender, when prepared incorrectly for consumption, can cause nausea?  You could say it’s like a thorn to your digestive system.”  He paused to wink cheekily.

Rolling his eyes, Toge had to interrupt, signing, “Please stop subscribing to Gojo’s Joke of the Day.”

“Shush,” Yuuta bopped his nose with his index finger, “And lastly, the medicinal properties of lavender include relief from depression and anxiety.  It is known to calm the nervous system and lift the mood, which, well, you know...”

He stopped abruptly, leaning forward to rest his head in his hands.  Groaning, he lamented, “Oh god, this all sounded so much better in my head...”

“Tuna, tuna,” Toge prodded his shoulder, trying to convey his interest in what he was about to say, even if he already had an inkling of a hunch.  

Yuuta met his violet gaze with one of stormy blue resolve, his spine straightening and his brows creasing as he spewed, “What I’m trying to say, Inumaki-kun, is that I think you’re amazing, inside and out, and when I’m with you, I feel, for once in my life, that everything is going to be okay.  You think you’re not strong enough?  Fuck, none of us would be where we are without you.  You are so strong.  You’re incredible.  You’re like a tiny jar of lavender infused lemonade on a hot summer’s day and every moment with you is never enough.  Like, I need more and –”

“Yuuta,” Toge laughed, interrupting him by flashing his hands, “You had me at ‘I wanted to show you how you make me feel’.  Quit milking the comparison.”

“Sorry, darling,” Yuuta laughed sheepishly, his face very quickly matching the red of the sunset, “Oh! Um, is that okay?”

Nodding, Toge his scarf down, smiling with his teeth as he signed, “What if I told you that you’re like...Mint.”

Yuuta blinked, obviously more interested in staring at Toge’s mouth than listening to what he had to say, much to Toge’s amusement.  Yuuta shrugged, “Mint is lovely.”

“It’s also an invasive weed.”

“Rude,” Yuuta gasped in mock offensive, but the word died right in front of his lips as Toge brought their mouths together, kissing him with his entire being.  He was so desperate to show Yuuta just how much his words meant, that everything seemed to move in double time.  One moment, they had been eating ice cream on a bench, the next, his hands were tangling in Yuuta’s hair, his tongue was sliding against Yuuta’s and oh, he was in Yuuta’s lap now.  

“Darling,” Yuuta spoke against his lips, “Is this okay?  I mean, if you don’t want –”

Toge shut him up once more.  

He’d had enough of Yuuta’s ramblings for the evening.  

#inuokko #ottoge #yuuta x toge #toge x yuuta #drabble #drabble request #aspiringtrashpanda

[rollercoasterwords]

*look away now if you don’t want spoilers for the feverwake series*

OKAY I OFFICIALLY FINISHED THE ELECTRIC HEIR and I have. so many thoughts about it and I don’t know where to start but!!!!!! Oh my god I have never been so stressed in my LIFE. I was VERY VERY convinced someone was gonna die AND WHEN NOAM STARTED TALKING ABOUT THE STUPID (lovely) FUCKING HOUSE AND THEIR STUPID (lovely) FUTURE LIFE!!!!!!!!!! RAE!!!!! The way I was SCREAMING. Because I was just like “okay, well he’s dead now isn’t he 😐” BECAUSE EVERYONE KNOWS WHEN A CHARACTER SAYS SHIT LIKE THAT THEY THEN DIE!!!!! so I was BEGGING him to shut! up! And then!! Then! When Dara started talking about how HE really wanted that life too….. and how he actually wanted to LIVE now…….. really did think they were building up to tear one of them away from me AND I WAS IN ABSOLUTE AGONY 🤡 so the actual ending was a nice breathe of relief oh my god. Although!!!!! Little bit stressed that leher isn’t actually dead…….. or locked up? They didn’t really clarify and I feel. A lot of fear about that actually. It makes my skin CRAWL to think about… which I guess is maybe the point? It’s a happy ending technically but there’s still that little nagging uncomfortableness in your brain lingering after the last page bc YOU DONT KNOW. Which is actually so insane of the author if that was intentional I AM OBSESSED WITH THAT.

Anyway! Final review! I had a very very fun time with this (pain + stress + fucked up plots + moral complexity + politics are my favourite story ingredients so I went so so so incredibly insane for this <33). I literally have NO WORDS for it I just. !!!!!!!!!!!!. I feel like my guts have been scooped out. Rearranged. And I just need to…. Lie here for a bit. And rest…

I just. There were so many scenes and lines that left me TORN OPEN, I am utterly OBSESSED with the writers writing style!!!! Everything was so clever and intense and HEARTWRENCHING and I really enjoyed the refugee politics and discussions about consent and SA and power imbalances and just. IT WAS SO SO SO GOOD THANK U FOR RECOMMENDING IT I am now going to go crawl under my blanket and be consumed by my thoughts xoxoxoxo

ahhhh hello THANK u 4 giving me the final thoughts!!! i understand the stress whenever a character in a dangerous situation starts talking about their future i'm like no aha don't do that....haven't u read a book....watched a movie, perhaps....

and UGH dara's arc in the second book. like the way he starts the story literally walking to his death and then ends it fighting for his life....makes me crazyinsane every time i read it i love that boy!! and i was also relieved by the happy ending lol tbf i do think i would have enjoyed a bit of death but it was like being wrapped up in a nice warm blanket at the end so...can't complain

anyway SO happy u enjoyed xx have v much enjoyed getting to vicariously live the experience of reading the series 4 the first time thru u <3

#ask #spoilers #book recs

[whump-cravings]

AHHHH I just got caught up with Symbiosis and it's so good! Please, pretty please, can you bless us with a continuation of the trials of our poor teefy boi?

Anon asked: Can we get the next part to "Symbiosis". I really love it so far and I also appreciate the translation you added at the end of chapter 3. Thank you! Your writing is amazing! 

Anon asked: Can we please get a continuation to Xhaqos story? I really love your writing!

y’all spoil me too much 🥺🥰 incredibly long overdue but here it is! Translation below the cut again

Symbiosis: His Human

Masterlist

1k | Original Work: Symbiosis

Content: vampire whumpee, (voluntarily) licking the floor, asshole father, language barrier

"Frxog kdyh jrwwhq ph d grj," the son muttered as he dragged himself upright, holding his wounded hand close. “Grjv grq'w qhhg wr gulqn eorrg. Dqg wkhb'uh fxwhu." He squeezed his eyes and teeth shut, tilting his head back. "Ixfn exw wkdw kxuwv."

Xhaqo curled up as best he could, watching through teary eyes as the human crawled to his cane. He cast glances to the vampire as he did so, as if Xhaqo might spring upon him like a beast.

After regaining the cane and his feet, the human walked past the curled-up vampire. Xhaqo sniffled, looking over his shoulder as the man went to the window. The scent of his blood remained strong, but drew Xhaqo from a different source—the droplets on the floor.

Oh, he was so hungry.

With only his shoulders, knees, and one good foot to propel himself, the starving vampire turned his body and inched his way to the nearest puddle. It wasn't absorbing into the wood, which Xhaqo didn't understand but was now grateful for as he tasted human blood for the first time.

It was... unlike anything else. How had he lived with deer blood for all his life? Sometimes rabbit, squirrel, fish, or even boar—but none of it compared. Sweet and bold, whole and fulfilling, human tasted right and perfect.

And... it wasn't worth the cost.

Xhaqo found himself crying again. He pressed his forehead into the ground, thinking of Cile and mama and papa. If he could never taste this again, just to be back with his family, he would gladly trade it.

And it was all he had now.

He licked at it again, miserably trying to ease his aching belly.

"Zkdw duh brx..." the son said. "Rk iru khdyhq'v vdnh."

The man's uneven gait approached and Xhaqo turned bleary eyes upward. What now? The son looked down on him with a heavy frown.

"Slwlixo wklqj, duhq'w brx?" the human sighed, then wearily eased onto a knee before the vampire. He looked down at his dripping hand, uncurling his fingers with a grimace. Then he held it out to Xhaqo, barely a fingertip's width from his mouth.

As hard as it had been the first time to pull his focus away, it seemed impossible this second time with the blood right under his nose. But Xhaqo managed to flick his gaze to the human to confirm that permission had truly been granted, and that the scent of fear had dissipated, leaving only pain and frustration.

"Li L kdyh wr whoo shrsoh L jrw d ghixqfw ydpsluh zkr rqob olfnv eorrg rii wkh iorru, L—" the human began, stopping with a gasp as Xhaqo put his lips to his human's hand, lapping up the precious red droplets. He made sure to coat the wound entirely, numbing his human's pain.

A thumb brushed his cheek, flakes of skin falling. "Vwudqjh," the son murmured. "Lw'v dv li—"

Agony suddenly shot up his leg and he slammed back into the floor to get it out from beneath himself, yelling through gritted teeth. Bone ground against itself as his broken ankle righted itself and began mending.

Xhaqo panted with his eyes screwed tight, sweat on his brow. He'd never healed from something so quickly! Was it over? He eased himself flat against the floor, cracking an eye open.

"Zhoo!" his human breathed, and Xhaqo turned his head to see the human had fallen back onto his rear.

The door flew open, the father taking in the scene with a touch of concern about him. The man straightened, expression smoothing out. "Ah. Jrrg."

"Bhv, L'yh ehhq fdqqledolchg," Xhaqo's human said, using his cane to get off the floor. "Fdq L jhw edfn wr zkdw L zdv grlqj qrz?"

In response, the man held out the jar of blood. Xhaqo fixated on it again, his stomach just as empty as before now that his ankle had healed. He rolled over onto his knees again, using his forehead to help leverage himself back upright. His ankle still twinged, evidently not entirely mended yet.

"Wkh kxqwhuv vdlg kh'oo vwloo eh kxqjub."

Xhaqo's human pinched the bridge of his nose. "Krz riwhq grhv kh qhhg wr ihhg?"

"D slqw zhhnob." The man wiggled the jar by the cap. "Kh'v erqghg wr brx qrz, vr lw fdq eh iurp dqb dqlpdo vrxufh."

"Ilqh. Rshq lw iru ph."

With a smile, the father opened twisted off the top of the jar, releasing a scent akin to boar's blood. Xhaqo's stomach rumbled.

The son took the container, then thumped back to Xhaqo. He stopped, looking down at the vampire in annoyance, then at his father. "Frxog brx gr vrphwklqj derxw klv kdqgv?"

"L vxssrvh." The father circled behind Xhaqo.

The hair on the back of Xhaqo's neck as some kind of energy thrummed through the air before the ropes on his wrists snapped. He started, bringing his hands in front of himself, then flinched as his human shoved the jar in front of his face. Glancing up, he accepted the blood with both hands.

After tasting human blood, boar-like blood was a paltry substitute, but Xhaqo drank it all the same. It eased the remaining pangs in his ankle and stomach. He preferred to have two feedings a week, so he never felt very hungry all at once, but blood didn't keep for long outside a body; there was no sense wasting any of this.

His human started to walk away mid-feeding. Xhaqo scrambled to his feet to follow.

"Zkdw—qr," his human said as he noticed, making some brushing motion the vampire didn't understand. "Grq'w iroorz ph."

"Ydpsluhv olnh wr vwdb forvh wr wkhlu fkdujhv," the father said as he stepped past them. "Zrxogq'w eh pxfk xvh rwkhuzlvh."

Xhaqo sipped at the blood while glancing between the two of them, unsure what the fuss was this time.

The son groaned, letting out an annoyed huff. "L grq'w qhhg klp kryhulqj ryhu ph!"

"Brx'g ehwwhu jhw xvhg wr lw," the man threw over his shoulder. "Kh'v brxuv qrz."

"Could have gotten me a dog. Dogs don't need to drink blood. And they're cuter. Fuck but that hurts."

"What are you..." the son said. "Oh for fuck's sake. Pitiful thing, aren't you?" the human sighed.

"If I have to tell people I got a defunct vampire who only licks blood off the floor, I—"

"Strange," the son murmured. "It's as if—"

"Well!" his human breathed.

"Ah. Good."

"Yes, I've been cannibalized. Can I get back to what I was doing now?"

"The hunters said he'll still be hungry."

"How often does he need to feed?"

"A pint weekly. He's bonded to you now, so it can be from any animal source."

"Fine. Open it for me."

"Could you do something about his hands?"

"I suppose."

"What—no. Don't follow me."

"Vampires like to stay close to their charges. Wouldn't be much use otherwise."

"I don't need him hovering over me!"

"You'd better get used to it. He's yours now."

taglist: @emcscared-whumps @nabanna @thecyrulik @suspicious-whumping-egg @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @wolfeyedwitch @the-blind-one-speaks

#whump writing #vampire whumpee #blood drinking #xhaqo is a pathetic adorable little creachur

[charley-and-the-swap-machine]

CATSM: RE-INK’D (Chapter 5, Part 3)

fools of April, but this is no joke.

The Voice Of Joey Drew

Listen, Tommy, I know you boys over at Gent are doing your best...but I'm paying for living attractions, not weird abominations!

Whatever that screaming thing was I saw destroying your office, you better keep it locked up tight!

I realize it was a first attempt at Barley, but imagine if the press caught sight of it! Might scare off investors!

And in response to your previous memo:

If you claim that your failures are because these things are soulless...then, damn it, we'll get them a soul!

After all, I own thousands of them!

────────────

"BETRAYED! ABANDONED!"

Wielding an axe, Sammy violently burst through the boards blocking the entrance. "I TRUSTED YOU! I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING! AND ALL I RECEIVED WAS NOTHING! NOTHING!!"

Henry slowly backed away from the raving prophet. "Y-You...you're supposed to be...?"

"HE SAID HE'D SAVE ME. HE SAID HE'D SET ME FREE. AND WHAT DID HE DO? LEAVE ME TO ROT!" He whipped around to stare at Henry, yellow eyes glinting with rage.

"I offered you to him, little sheep. Why did he not accept my humble sacrifice?" His voice had lowered to a somewhat calmer tone as he questioned him, turning away and pacing around. "Have I done something wrong...?"

He slumped down, then immediately perked back up with a snap of his fingers. "...Of course! I must have done the ritual incorrectly...!"

Laughing, the prophet turned back around with a slasher smile adorning his face.

"THE TIME OF SACRIFICE IS UPON US, CREATOR! NOW, COME PUT YOUR FACE IN MY AXE!"

Upon him saying that, Henry jumped back as Sammy lunched towards him, weapon swinging.

-

-

-

It quickly turned into a wild goose chase around the makeshift city as he frantically avoided the attacks of the raving prophet that followed close behind.

"W-WAIT!" Henry turned around to look as he made an attempt to reason with him.

"I-I TRULY DON'T UNDERSTAND! I REALLY DON'T WANT TO FIGHT YOU-"

He was cut off as he flinched at Sammy swinging straight for the middle of his head, and he made an attempt to dodge to the side.

The axe soon nicked the side of his face, and Henry felt his cheek sting as a warm fluid trickled down his chin.

Blood.

...

It'd been a while since he'd seen his own blood, hasn't it?

..No, no, he couldn't get distracted now. Reaching for the looking glass, he held it in his hands like a dagger as the prophet readied to attack him once more.

"Ahhhh...so now it's a fight, isn't it?" Sammy commented, his cheshire cat grin widening as he gripped harder on his axe.

"...I...I really don't...want to do this, you know." He breathed, still gripping onto that shard of glass.

But it looks like it's come to this, hasn't it?

...

"LIES! OHH, IT'S NOTHING BUT LIES THAT COME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH, CREATOR!" The prophet began to laugh again as he prepared to attack Henry once more.

"I'LL CUT THAT LYING MOUTH RIGHT OFF OF YOUR FACE AND END THEM ALL FOR GOOD!"

As soon as he lunged for Henry again, he instinctively jammed the makeshift dagger into whatever he found to be closest to it.

.

..

...

Which just so happened to be the prophet's left eye.

"SH-SHIT! I-I'm sorry, I-" Henry immediately blurted out an apology as Sammy screamed out in agony, turning away from him and kneeling on the floor as he held onto his injured eye.

What appeared to be the prophet making quiet sobs soon turned into a manic cackle as he snapped back around to grab for Henry's neck, forcing him down to the ground.

"HA! HE LIED TO ME, CREATOR, JUST LIKE YOU'VE LIED TO US FOR ALL OF OUR PAINFUL EXISTENCES. HE SAID HE WOULD SET US ALL FREE." Sammy loomed in his face as he spoke, then rose up above him.

"WELL...I'LL GO AND FREE YOU, NOW. FREE YOUR HEAD RIGHT OFF OF YOUR SHOULDERS!"

He was holding his axe in both of his hands now, his smile at his fullest.

"Sheep, sheep, sheep..."

...

The axe was lifted further and further above his head.

"It's time..."

...

Henry couldn't tell from where he was, but he swore that something, or someone, was approaching from behind Sammy.

"For..."

...

The figure was slowly getting closer and closer now as the prophet prepared to administer the final blow.

"Sleep."

Before he could get a single strike in, Sammy seemed to almost freeze in his place. Arms going limp, he dropped his weapon as he fell down to the side with a soft thump, his pupils rolling back and his eyelids fluttering shut.

It was silent after that.

...

"...Time for sleep."

From the ground, Henry watched as a familiar face took an axe out of Sammy's back, looking down at the corpse with an uneasy expression.

"...Barley?"

The sailor seemed to notice Henry as he said that, and he walked over to him, axe in hand.

A moment of silence passed as the two stared at one another, still processing the events of what had just happened. The stillness from the both of them was soon broken by Barley extending a hand to him without a word.

He obliged to the offer, taking a hold of it and pulling himself up from the ground.

Not a single word was exchanged, but in that moment, there seemed to be a mutual agreement between the two as the sailor gave a small smile to him.

...

"Henry!"

He turned at Alice's voice to find the others waiting for him on the docks of the town. "There you are! We've been looking for you..." She called.

"Yeah!" Bendy added, poking out from behind her. "Where the hell have you been, anyways? Didya give us the slip or somethin'!?"

"He didn't give anyone 'the slip', Bendy." Boris said, "I let him out."

"WHAT!? That's a shocker!"

"Bendy..."

As the group began talking amongst themselves, Henry couldn't help but gaze back down at the body of the prophet.

"...He's really gone, isn't he?"

He nearly jumped at Barley's sudden words, then calmed himself down as he continued to stare at the corpse.

"I suppose he is..." He trailed off, before adding:

"Maybe it was better off this way for him."

...

He froze up as he felt a hand placed on his shoulder, and he turned to see Boris standing right behind him. How the hell did he get here so fast?

"...What exactly is it that you are looking for...Henry?" He paused before pronouncing that last word, as if his name was something from a foreign language he had never spoken before.

...

...He thought about that question for a bit.

How long had he been here? What was his goal anymore? So many things had happened, and he was unsure how to feel now...

"I..." He finally broke the silence. "I guess...I just want to get out of here."

Boris seemed to process his words, then took his hand off his shoulder and walked forward a bit, stopping to turn his head back at him.

"...Well? Are you coming, or not?"

"W-Well, um..." Henry stammered out, a bit surprised by the turn of events.

"...If you know what to do, then...lead the way."

"Hey, Boris!" He jumped at Bendy appearing out of seemingly nowhere. "Where are we goin' now?"

"Somewhere. Now get moving."

"Awh, come on! What're you bein' so secretive about?"

The group moved forward as Bendy and Boris began to bicker between themselves again. Taking a final look at Sammy, Henry turned away from him and followed everyone else out of the town…

#batim #bendy and the ink machine #batim au #batim sammy #sammy lawrence #joey drew #batim joey #batim henry #henry stein #batim bendy #batim boris #batim alice #alice angel #batim barley #“pen to paper” 📽️