#Me and the Devil

[dirafames]

[neerons]

Sympathy For the Devil | Gilbert Von Obsidian

"There's no way I'd ever let anyone else kill you. It has to be me." (—Gilbert Von Obsidian)

So happy about this piece!! I spent so much time on it my wrist hurts hahaha, but it was so worth it 💜

Happy Halloween to anyone who celebrates it!

[tulsajesusfrk]

[sunder-soul]

✦𝖒𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖑✦

[read 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖉𝖔𝖛𝖊 here]

Chapter one: The lesser of the two evils Wordcount: 600 Header credit

“Someone’s making Horcruxes.”

If you’re being honest with yourself, whatever mental barrier that lies between the daily mess of to-do lists, deadlines, and humdrum Department bullshit holding back thinking about him, it’s a thin one. Gauzey, permeable, you’ll find him seeping into your mind when you’re staring off into the corner with at a half-finished report, bleeding in when you’re alone and waiting for the elevator, always with a sick sense of self-betrayal and something that stings an awful lot like shame–if you’re being honest with yourself.

A Friday evening at 4:56pm. That’s when McCollin decides to drop this news on you. It’s raining outside, a thick, thorough rain that falls restlessly over the dark city, framed by the single window in your office behind you. Both the lamp on your desk and the city below glow yellow-orange, the only lights left at this time of night so late into winter. That first promotion had come with bumping enough floors that people comment on the view whenever they step into the room, but more often than not they’re politely neglecting to comment on the fact that it’s Muggle London–not Wizarding–that you’re looking out over. It’s no secret that the Ministry maps out its favourites with the floorplan. The press on Riddle dropped off years ago and ever since, so subtle at first that you could write it off, that relentless, incremental push out of the limelight has been growing ever stronger. The job gets more menial, the promotions stop paying well, and slowly but surely new favourites sweep onto stage.

Here, tonight is where you're startled by the sudden sound of your door opening without a knock, and before you can even make some comment to McCollin he’s said the one thing that tears aside any aspersions that maybe one day you’ll be free of what happened.

“Someone’s making Horcruxes,” says McCollin.

You already know what’s coming next, you can feel it sinking fast into your stomach like you’ve stepped out into the dark, yellow-stained night.

“We’re gonna need his help,” McCollin says, and he says it with an apology already saturating every word, he says them heavily like he’s struggling to keep his head up to look you in the eye.

You stare at him, and the rain swells suddenly louder. You put down your quill and watch a bead of ink well at the nib.

The gravity of it is starting to weigh on you, too. They wouldn’t even be considering if it wasn’t already bad, if whatever they’ve been doing is far from working. They’d have to be desperate, very desperate, and you’re wondering what could make them consider their last possible option, Plan Z, what could be so monstrously bad that hauling Tom Riddle out of Azkaban to grill him about Horcruxes is the lesser of the two evils.

You’re thinking about his ring. You’re thinking about his last request. You’re thinking about dark eyes in a dark cell somewhere beneath the ocean and you’re wondering what he’ll be when they drag him out of there–half soulless? Half insane? How long has he been down there, rotting in the darkness, deep in the roots of Azkaban? How many times have you wondered that since you last saw him?

Your fingers are shaking.

“They want you there,” says McCollin, needlessly.

You already knew it. And god, god, here comes that sick shame and that self-betrayal, because somewhere beneath the dread­–if you’re being honest with yourself–you know that some part of you can’t fucking wait.

[yuerini]

jurdan are so "me and the devil"

and i don't even know anymore who's the devil

[admirableprecious]

This is new to me. :) Excellent work!

[dotcien]

I came back from the shadows to share this

[pannkai]

“And I say: hello Satan

I believe, it's time to go”

[dirafames]

honestly i'm both

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hey, big fan of your prompts especially the hero/villain ones! I was thinking if you could do one where the hero and villain are secretly in a relationship but then when hero's away for their duties for some time, villain who only does petty crimes is framed for a big heist and imprisoned and tortured severely by hero's team. Hero comes back and astonished at the conditions and goes to meet villain in prison. Can you please do a prompt with their interaction there, I think it would be very whumpy!

The hero remembered the cold.

It was a type of cold that would crawl into their boots and linger there, numbing their feet and turning their fingers blue. Not only was it painful, it was also a constant, a problem that needed to be fixed but wouldn’t change, no matter what they did. A cold that wouldn’t repent, a dark and very intimate thing.

Within the cell, the icy air was stinging in their lungs with each laboured breath and as they stared at the villain, they wished they were someone else. Someone who didn’t have to control their emotions, someone who could act without fearing the consequences.

In each corner a camera, observing the villain from every angle for 24 hours a day. No escape.

Not in this condition. Not when they were covered in their own blood, had a broken knee, a broken wrist, many cuts and more bruises than anyone could count.

“You deny the accusations made against you,” the hero stated. It broke their heart. It broke their fucking heart to proceed like this. Acting like a professional, not allowing themselves to look at their lover for too long, continuing the protocol — they cursed themselves for showing their obedience to their team. But what was their other option? Getting caught and tortured and with that, ending every little glimpse of hope?

“I do,” the villain rasped. “I deny it.”

They finally looked at the hero, exhausted and tragically struck down with pain.

“Is there any evidence to prove your innocence?” The hero’s voice was quiet as they stared at their lover who seemed in too much pain to move which in itself caused pain again.

I will kill them all, the hero promised in their mind. An imbalance possessed their actions and it was slowly — very tediously — getting difficult to gain control over their thoughts again. They felt themselves slipping on a moral ambiguity that began to glorify gruesome acts of violence.

They were afraid that if they fell, they’d never return to their old self.

“I was with my spouse that night,” the villain said. “Though I doubt they will make any kind of statement. I wouldn’t let them either.”

Christ, the hero was ready, was so ready. Guilt ate them alive, made a meal of them and had fun while devouring them. The guilt and the anger were a perfectly septic mixture to foretell their grand fall.

“Why is that?” The words were sour on their tongue as they felt their throat swell up. Images of their laughing spouse flooded their mind. But with one harsh push, the hero was pulled back into reality and other images replaced the old ones. A dead villain. Killed when they were stealing. Murdered in their own home. Assassinated on a walk with the hero.

“I’d do anything to protect them,” the villain said. “If I needed to die to keep them safe, I’d pull the trigger myself. To make sure it’s done properly.”

“Would they do the same for you?” the hero asked. Too aware of the haunting cameras, they concentrated on the villain, put their whole energy on them and tried to find stability. But it didn’t help — their voice was still shaking and they were still too close to crying.

“Without a doubt,” the villain said.

“Then why aren’t they here?” the hero asked, trying to stick to the old patterns of interrogation.

“Because they’re good. They’re not a villain.”

“They seem pathetic. They’re letting you rot here,” the hero said and hell, they meant every word. Why hadn’t they come home sooner?

“I’m protecting them.”

“You mean you’re getting yourself killed for someone who failed to act.” Their dark promise formed a plan.

“Careful,” the villain warned, despite being in no position to do so. “It’s not their fault. My blood isn’t on their hands.”

“No,” the hero said, “but someone else’s blood will be.”

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

Title: me and the devil | part 2

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairing: Mean Smuggler!Joel Miller/Smuggler!Female Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Summary: Joel doesn’t take kindly to the attention you’ve been receiving from a FEDRA agent.

Author’s Note: Quick lil addition to the dark!Joel universe. Because I can never write a one shot it seems. Reader discretion is advised.

Join the tag list | Masterlist

Content Warnings/Tags: explicit sexual content (18+), explicit language, considerable age gap (25F and 56M), mean mean mean Joel Miller, possessive Joel Miller, violence, public sex, dirty talk, degradation, begging, unprotected p in v, non con ejaculation, pet name (derogatory), dominance, rough sex, hair pulling, no aftercare, did i mention he’s MEAN like i cannot stress this enough. Let me know if anything is missing!

There’s a FEDRA agent who’s taken an interest in you.

He’s younger, probably about thirty. He’s handsome, with blonde hair and blue eyes and a cocky grin. He slips you extra ration cards when he sees you, and shows you a kindness that you’re unaccustomed to.

He lets you slip past the gate for smuggling runs, wishing you luck with a hand against your lower back as his eyes scan the perimeter.

One night, when you’ve returned from a run, he’s there to greet you. Joel stomps past him without a second thought and Tess nods at him before going her own separate way. But the agent pulls you aside, down an alley, and kisses you breathless.

You both miss the movement in the shadows.

________

Joel sees red anytime that little FEDRA fucker puts his hands on you. He doesn’t have any right to feel this way. In fact, he should be thrilled that your attention has shifted, that he no longer has to feel the burn of your gaze on his back.

But that’s not the case. He feels the loss of it like a shot to the heart.

So when he sees you in the alley with his hands on your body and his lips on yours, he doesn’t think. He just acts.

Joel storms toward the two of you, ripping the man from your body, throwing him to the ground. He gets a brief glimpse of your shocked face before he’s slamming the agent’s head against the concrete. The younger man fights back, bucking against Joel’s hold. But while the agent might be younger, maybe even stronger, Joel fights dirtier.

He’s got the man pinned with an arm against his throat as he stares down into his pretty face.

“Don’t you fuckin’ touch her again, you hear me?” He spits. He waits until the man stops struggling, going limp from lack of oxygen before releasing his grip.

You’re standing against the wall, the shock still painted across your features as you stare at Joel. Then you’re launching at him, eyes flashing with rage.

“You asshole!” You shout, fists beating against his chest. He yanks your hair, tugging your head back and looking down into your vicious expression.

“Call me that one more time, sweetheart, and see what fuckin’ happens.”

Your jaw clenches. “Ass. Hole,” you spit.

________

Joel spins you so that your face is pressed into the brick of the building, scratching at your cheek painfully. This position feels familiar, the memory of this same hold on your in his apartment making you clench in anticipation.

It’s deplorable that his treatment of you makes you so goddamn wet. You try not to think too hard about what it says about you as he presses his body against yours, the hard length of him grinding against your ass and making you bite back a moan.

“I warned you,” Joel growls in your ear. One hand remains clamped around the back of your neck to hold you in place while the other slides down the front of your body, tearing at the fly of your jeans and shoving the material roughly over your hips. “But you wanted to be a goddamn brat.”

You whimper as he slides his fingers through your wetness, cheeks heating as he laughs. “And you’re already wet? Tell me, baby, that from some little boy kissin’ you or from me beating the hell out of him for it?”

“Oh god,” you cry as he roughly circles your clit. “Joel!”

“Shut up,” he snaps. You hear the clink of his belt being opened, the zip of his fly being pulled down.

You remain frozen, plastered to the wall with your pants around your thighs. The heat of his body returns and you jolt when you feel the blunt head of his hard cock press to your entrance. You squirm against his hold.

“Stop moving,” he commands. You go still, like prey accepting its fate. “Good job, baby, I knew you could listen if you just use your little brain.”

A moan breaks free as he slides inside of you, hips slamming against your ass with his rough thrust. The sudden stretch of him makes you see stars as he sets a punishing pace.

“Your little cunt is so tight for me, baby, suckin’ me in every time I try to leave. Desperate for my cock,” he growls against your ear. Teeth scrape against your neck. “Should I let you cum? I don’t think stupid little girls who try to share what’s mine deserve to.”

“Please, Joel,” you whisper .

“I can’t hear you.”

“Please, please, please! Make me cum, Joel, make me cum all over you,” you beg, voice as loud as you dare to make it. You can feel him smile against your shoulder, a hateful spread of his lips.

“You’re lucky I’m so fuckin’ nice,” he spits, bringing his fingers to your clit and sliding them over the sensitive nub with quick, rough strokes. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up, the thought of Joel calling himself nice is so absurd to you that you can’t reign it in. He smacks your ass in retaliation and you try to escape the sting of it by rising to your tiptoes.

He yanks you back roughly, wrapping your hair around his fist to tug your head back. His eyes are so dark, so callous, that you have to swallow your fear to keep it hidden. He must still see it in your eyes, because that sharp smile is back.

“Since you didn’t want to fuckin’ stay still, you can cum on my cock alone or you don’t cum at all, understand?” Your lower lip trembles and he tightens his grip in your hair, making you gasp. “Answer me.”

“Yes, sir,” you murmur. He groans at the title, his cock pulsing in its appreciation inside of you.

His speed picks up, his thrusts punishing as he chases after his own release. You can feel your muscles tightening in anticipation of your own, your harsh breaths stuttering as you toe the edge of ecstasy. You bite back a scream as a particularly rough thrust hits you in just the right spot, making you shatter around him, your pussy clamping tightly to his arousal.

He’s not far behind you, his pace losing finesse as he chases his release, groaning into your ear as he cums inside of you in thick, hot splashes. Your eyes go wide at the sensation. You had expected him to pull out, as he had before.

You hear Joel pull his jeans up, followed by his rough hands slipping your own back over your hips. He turns you to face him, his face etched in that same permanent scowl. He smooths a thumb over the scrapes from the brick that have marred your cheek before he tugs your lips to his with a firm grip on your jaw.

“You let that FEDRA piece of shit touch you again, just know that its my cum he’ll be fuckin’ deeper into your cunt,” he says.

Joel doesn’t wait for a response. His eyes search yours for one brief moment before he turns on his heel and stalks out of the alley.

Your eyes flick to the agent still crumpled on the ground and you take a deep breath before following after the devil himself.

Joel Miller tag list: @huffle-punk @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727 @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfell @thedeadsingwithdirtintheirmouths @mydailyhyperfixations @liati2000 @ghostofjoharvelle @cutesyscreenname @morgaussy @letsgroovetonighttt @endlessthxxghts

[mx-nii]

I decided to go through my folder of over 500 grishaverse TikToks…

There is an abundance of “me and the devil” TikToks

It’s either Inej and kaz or Alina and Aleksander or Zoya and Nikolai or Nina and Matthias or Kaz and Jesper, or Genya and Aleksander-

It’s amazing how one song can be used for the entire show

[mrslucygraysnow]

me and the devil, walking side by side

and i'm gunna see my man

until i get satisfied 🌹

[unadulteratedcoffeetimemachine]

See, don't see why people dog me around, it must be that old evil spirit so deep down in your ground

Me and the Devil - Soap&Skin

[ani-amidala-skywalker]

“Me n the Devil…walking side by side”