#Satan can have my soul

[eye-may]

DAY 19!! WHOOOOOO!!!

I am SO GLAD mistoffelees's day landed on a weekend day so that I could have extra time to devote to him lol. I had so many ideas for stuff I wanted to do but I decided to use the prompt as an excuse to draw a version of Mistoffelees that I haven't tackled yet...pierpaolo scida's misto from il sistina 2022!! MY BELOVED

naturally I had to redraw the part from the promos that had so many cats fan in a chokehold. I am one such.

enjoy!! <3

[mialhell]

Au where Cellbit kills Abueloier, and in an attempt to save his marriage he makes a deal with Satan to bring him back before Roier notices.

So now Satan is his roommate and he's supposed to help her acclimate to the mortal realm, even though she seems to know what she's doing (becoming a pop star).

[svtskneecaps]

you kids like your duo names so i'm dubbing ramon and dapper the "wrapper duo" i don't take constructive criticism

[rachiller]

I love stereotypes about dogs so much because of how funny it is when they get disproved. My giant Rottweiler who looks like he might have eaten several children in the past and is looking for his next victim giving big sad eyes when he lays his head in your lap 3 seconds after meeting him versus my tiny Jack Russell who until she sees a stranger looks like an innocent little baby then immediately becomes 90% teeth 10% dog, why sir, they are simply doing god’s work

[tsukii0002]

My demons' periods cycles. By Mc

Note: these are purely my headcanons at the moment, they are based on animal ethology and behaviours that I think would suit each character depending on their personality and Lore. I would love to read your headcanon in case you have them.

Warning: Long text. Possible grammatical errors. It's written as if Mc was writing for themself.

Hey, it me Mc, the best human. Here is a compilation of the behaviours of my demons during their periods, cycles, for practical day to day use. It wasn't easy but I sat them down and got to talk to them, with a little effort I now know what they need. So now I am ready to assist them during these complicated times and be prepared in case I find a dead goat on the porch as a tribute.

Lucifer, Mammon & Levi || Satan, Asmo, & Beel || Belphie, Barbatos & Diavolo || Simeon & Raphael

Satan

Light damages his eyes, and during his period he does not sleep at all.

During his cycle, the plaques that extend from his tail to his entire body become more pronounced and acquire a bioluminescent coating. As do its horns. Beware, they prick.

Some parts of his body grow feathers (I think this is a "side" effect of his birth). He aggressively plucks them out, help him not to hurt himself.

His teeth grow continuously, he has to be sanding them (biting things or his own tail). Other than that he doesn't groom much.

Satan doesn't have a fixed place to spend his heat, and although he likes to "nest" he doesn't know how to do it well, which frustrates him a lot. Help him, you already have experience (I think that's why he has chosen my room as his favourite place)

Depending on the weather he may make something more like a nest or a burrow.

Satan is terribly territorial, even with his siblings. He has had a run in with Cerberus from time to time. Please don't let that happen, the house won't hold.

Satan does not have a pre-heat period as such, but you can tell it is coming because he becomes more taciturn and solitary.

Raw meat is his main food, which is what he goes out to hunt very often because he needs a lot of it, but make sure he doesn't eat more than his capacity or it will make him sick. One way to do this is to feed him yourself (I think he thinks you have hunted for him if you do this).

Satan is the only one who haunts other demons and even souls of the condemned.

It is the only one that has fought other demons. Any living thing within 100 metres of him is encroaching on his territory, which is a problem because he moves so much for hunt.

Satan becomes non-verbal. But he does not use noises to communicate, only physical contact.

Growls and roars are reserved for threats and warnings (in other words, to communicate with everyone but you).

He likes physical contact, but is afraid to get close in case he hurts you (his tags and tail), you won't deny him comfort so be careful and that's it.

Satan produces pheromones, but does not usually mark.

His way of courting is to offer you resources, especially prey (he wants to prove he can feed you), it's not the first time he's brought you a live demon. Once he brought you a Little D, the poor thing kept shaking.

Satan's senses are heightened to the extreme. Many stimuli upset him and he has fits of rage. talk to him, so that he focuses his attention on your voice, that will calm him down. Lucifer's voice calms him down a lot too (but it's a secret)

All these changes (hormonal, behavioural…) are not good for his anger, the poor thing gets very angry without knowing why.

Satan's temperature is a reflection of his activity, when he is on the move it increases and when he stops it decreases.

During periods of low activity he curls up next to you, holding your hand (for fear of hurting you) with his pupils fully dilated, don't be fooled, he is fully alert and ready to attack.

Satan purrs? YES! It's the purr that most resembles a cat (that will make him happy, but don't tell him, the avatar of wrath has his pride).

Mc: *in their bedroom helping Satan* Here is ok?

Satan: *looking at them and nodding*

Mc: Making a nest is complicated… are you sure this is okay?

Satan: *standing next to them and rubbing his cheek with their cheek *

Mc: *smiling* Okay, let's go to the next part.

Satan: *grunting at a demon that's approached the house*

Mc: Satan!!! Satan stop!!!

Demon: *paralyzed with fear*

Mc: *hugging* Satan now, let him go, he's going, he's goi- agh!

Satan: !!!

Mc: *cut themself with his tail* It's okay, it's nothing.

Satan: *guilty look*

Mc: *taking him by the hand* Don't worry, this heals fast.

Satan: *nodding still guilty, squeezing their hand*

Demon: …. I thought I was dying!!!!

Satan: *purring as he presses his chin on Mc*

Mc: *talking to him to calm him down* And remember you don't have to go out every day, there's plenty of food here….

Satan: *purring more loudly*

Mc: But if you see my great uncle's soul, the one from the village, it's all yours.

Satan: *nodding with a smile*

Mc: *laughing* How trustworthy, you're awesome Satan.

Asmo

Although he spends most of his time awake, he needs to sleep.

He can be just as active during the day as he is at night (like arachnids).

For him to sleep, you have to be right next to him or he won't sleep.

Asmo needs to nest completely under cover, underground, but prefers the safety of his home to going outside. So he improvises a burrow in his room.

During his period the scales of his exoskeleton become shiny and velvety coated, as do his wings and horns.

Them take on a more striking fuchsia colour than usual. It will be one of the few times you will be able to see Asmo's tail with its sting.

He preens himself a lot, moistening its wings, polishing its scales... At first he is a little reluctant to be helped, but later he will be constantly asking for your help.

More than territorial, Asmo is possessive. He doesn't want you to leave his side, sometimes with his siblings too. If he smells a scent of someone else in his tribe, good luck to that individual.

Asmo doesn't have pre-heat, you'll just wake up one day with all your clothes gone and you'll know it's started.

Asmo's diet during its cycle is varied, although its consumption increases, ranging from fresh meat, fluids of all kinds, to poisonous substances such as flowers, mushrooms or other live animals. Be sure to allow some time to pass before he kisses or bites you.

If you get him a rare poisonous plant, he will be happy and content.

He can talk normally, but he will also make clicking sounds to indicate his mood.

Lots of pheromones, Asmo produces lots and lots of pheromones during his period, pheromones that he will use to mark his territory. Often his siblings can't be near him. You don't have that problem

Asmo is very needy to contact, hug him, give him kisses, caress his wings, his hair. He will be happy to let you.

And he will return the gesture, he will bite you too (always have your first aid kit handy). He will always try to be on top of you or for you to be on top of him.

Asmo's courtship consists of exsivating while performing a dance (like scorpions), this dance is complex and elaborate, and during it he releases a large amount of pheromones.

He gets very confused when you don't react to it, Asmo I'm sorry but I can't smell your pheromones, sometimes he even gets sad.

His senses are very developed, especially his sense of smell, which is more developed than any of his siblings. Make sure the flowers in his room are enchanted so that they don't emit odour and with perfumes and other fragranced products the same or he can get hurt.

Asmo's temperature will generally drop, but he will go through periods of very high fever (due to his sin) which will leave him tired.

During fever peaks he will become very active, and will devote most of his time to courting. To balance this out you will have to COURT him yourself, you'd better improve that dance.

Because of his temperature, he will spend most of his time hiding in the burrow, demanding your cuddles.

He purrs? , yes, in an adorable and soft way. It is easy to make him purr, with a simple praise.

Asmo: Kiss? *with Mc sitting on his lap*

Mc: Not yet Asmo.

Asmo: *with teary eyes* Don't you love me anymore?

Mc: *sighing* Asmo, my life, my heart, you just ate three nightshade roots.

Asmo: *almost crying* And?

Mc: I love you very much but I also want to live.

Asmo: My nose itches.

Mc: Wait a bit longer, I'm finishing enchanting the flowers.

Asmo: *sad * It would be less trouble to remove them…

Mc: But you like them, don't you?

Asmo: Mc..

Mc: *hugging him* I'm here to help you and to make you comfortable, if you like the flowers, the flowers stay.

Asmo: Love you so much!

Asmo: *dancing with a very high fever*

Mc: Asmo, you are so beautiful… you can rest now.

Asmo: *staring at them non-stop*

Mc: *blushing while standing up * You leave me no choice *starts dancing and grabs Asmo by the waist*

Asmo: ?! Are you courting me?! * excited*

Mc: *Grabbing him in their arms to take him to rest* Yup, it worked?.

Asmo: I'm all yours, Mc, from the beginning…

Beel

Light is not a problem for him, although he prefers darkness.

During his period, the exoskeleton hardens and plates of it appear all over his body, and his horns become iridescent.

In addition, its wings become ribbed in a pattern, which at first glance is very beautiful. The more complex the pattern, the more attractive it is. You always see his wings as beautiful, but you agree with him, Beel deserves it.

He does a lot of grooming, which is lovely to see, because Beel is a bit clumsy and needs constant help, he has been injured a few times and you don't want that to happen again.

There are some flies and other insects that lay their nests underground. In Beel's case he has a small gallery dug in the garden, which he uses for storage too.

Beel at the beginning of the cycle may be in the house, but as he progresses he will be in his gallery.

More than territorial, he becomes protective of you and his siblings (he once kidnapped Luke), so when he is in his gallery he feels bad, because his desire to protect them is crushed by his need to be hidden.

Beel has a very marked pre-heat, in which he accumulates large quantities of food in his small cave and his appetite doubles. All the inhabitants of the house join in at this time to cook.

In contrast, during his period of heat his activity is reduced and his appetite decreases, this does not mean that he does not eat, he eats more often but in much smaller quantities and from storage (food that does not spoil).

He will insist on feeding you constantly, prepare indigestion medicine, you will need it.

Beel becomes totally non-verbal, be prepared to become an interpreter, he communicates with grunts, clicks and buzzes his wings.

Lots of buzzing, it's not the first time you've been hit by his wings, with the different buzzes he makes all sorts of claims and they have a high communicative range, you'll just need some time to figure it out.

His pheromones are strong, and he will mark, although he does it unconsciously.

As I said, he likes to have his family around him, but when he can't, anxiety takes over, vibration and physical contact calms him down. The easiest thing to do is to lay him on your chest and talk to him while stroking his hair or wings.

Beel's courtship is complex, first he feels the need to prove he can be a good provider, so he will constantly enlarge and improve his gallery.

And then there is the display of his wings, patterning and rhythmic, synchronised movements and buzzes to impress you.

He sleeps more than usual, will want you to sleep in his arms, and usually does so perched on one of his walls, hopefully you won't develop vertigo….

His senses are not as sharp as those of his siblings, but he becomes much more agile and has much better reflexes.

Beel's temperature increases, due to the continuous movement of his wings (insects produce a lot of heat when flying), but when he is at rest he tends to cool down.

Beel's purr is a mixture of a buzz and a vibration, he will purr when he is calm and content.

Beel was a little worried about how you might react because many humans detest insects. Be sure to praise his wings and other attributes, because this demon is adorable.

Mc: So this is your lair?

Beel: Yes… I decided to keep it from period to period to not destroy the garden…

Mc: I think it's very practical!!! It must be very cool in summer.

Beel: Do you really think so?

Mc: Yes, and cosy too, you're an artist Beel.

Beel: *smiling as he blushes*

Beel: *grunts*

Mc: Beel I can't take anymore…

Beel: *holding out a piece of fruit to them* *buzz*

Mc: Really Beel, I'm going to explode…

Beel: !! *hugging them*

Mc: It's a figure of speech… but can you eat my share… please.

Mc: *sleeping hugging Beel in one of the corners of his gallery*

Beel: *caressing them with his cheek*

Mc: It's all right Beel?

Beel: *crackling with worry*

Mc: Don't worry... Lucifer is with them… and the others will take care of Lucifer for you.

Beel: …*cradling them adoringly*

Mc: And I'll take care of you, so rest…

.

.

.

If you have made it this far thanks you 🩷

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Demons Prompts

It's not every day that a demon wants to make a deal with you, because they are the ones needing a favour.

The world is heading towards an apocalypse, but it's also the demon's home and they like it how it is now.

Getting summoned at little girls' sleepovers is just part of the job.

It's their job to influence the humans to be bad. When it doesn't work on one, the demon has to realize that this human doesn't need any influencing anymore.

Demons are evil monsters, but they still have a sweet tooth and are regular customers in the new café that opened down the street. With those delicious pastries made from scratch every day, how can a demon resist.

When a demon finally comes to collect the soul that was sold to them, they realize there is not much left of it.

A demon's job is to create chaos, however they see fit. But when they decide to create a cult worshipping Satan, it turns more into a healthy found family situation then actual chaos.

When a demon finally gets send to their first assignment on earth, they quickly realize how much they prefer the quietness of earth to the cacophony of hell.

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! 🥰

[harunayuuka2060]

WHB Series #1 (Cont.)

Michael: I've succeeded in killing Asmodeus. Now, fulfill your promise.

MC: *nonchalantly; looks a bit mature now since 10 years have already passed*

MC: *examines the head*

MC: Hm... This looks like him, alright.

MC: *looks at him dead in the eye* Did you get lazy so you decided to create a replica of his head, huh?

Michael: ...

Gabriel and Raphael: *chuckle*

Michael: I’ve endured ten years of torment in Abaddon. Surely, you can be considerate enough to let this one pass.

Gabriel: A promise is a promise, Michael.

Raphael: If you can’t accomplish a single simple task, you have no right to ask for god’s hand in marriage.

Michael: ...

Michael: *kneels before MC, crawling towards them with a sultry grace before wrapping his arms around their legs*

Michael: Please? I'll be a good husband to you.

MC: *feeling grossed out* You're making me want to chop off my own legs.

Michael: That would be perfect. If you can’t walk, I can force you to stay with me.

MC: ...

Gabriel and Raphael: ...

Gabriel and Raphael: This insolent—

MC: *feeling sleepy*

Foras: MC...

MC: Hey there, Foras. Does Leviathan have a message for me?

Foras: No, I'm just here to check up on you.

Foras: How's your health recently?

MC: As you can see, I'm doing well.

Foras: ...

Foras: But MC... Your name appeared in Lemegeton.

MC: Yeah, I know about that.

Foras: !!!

Foras: MC, you're the—

MC: The vessel. And the owner is coming back, and he's expecting that everything will be in order.

MC: Including my punishment for the ungodly behavior I've done on earth.

Foras: Still, those were helpful to humans—

MC: I abused my authority. That's all there is, not that I have any regrets.

Foras: I see... In that case—

MC: I'll be spending my remaining few years with Michael.

Foras: ...

Foras: Pardon?

Satan: They have something in mind. I could feel it.

Lucifer: ...

Lucifer: The descendant of Solomon is destined to die within the next fifteen years.

Satan: That's impossible; they're healthy.

Lucifer: It isn't if god will truly return.

Satan: ...

Asmodeus: I'm calling dibs to their soul.

Leviathan: You're not in contract with them.

Asmodeus: Oh, but I'm technically their husband, remember? They still bear my mark as of this moment.

Asmodeus: I'm certain they wouldn't mind becoming my trophy spouse.

Belphegor: Fuck off.

Mammon: Hate to drop this on everyone, but they've already entrusted their soul to Lucifer.

Lucifer: ...

Satan: Wait—WHAT?!

Lucifer: ...

Lucifer: Oh.

Satan: IT'S NOT ME?!

Mammon: Don't worry, there'll be next time; if they continue the bloodline.

Beelzebub: Which is doubtfully.

'Child, I was merely testing you—I never meant to punish you for aiding Hell and delivering rightful punishments.'

MC: Nah, I'm tired.

'...Very well.'

[cherryxblossxms]

🔞 Someone brought it up on Twitter and now it's been rattling around in my head.

But thinking back to early Obey Me days and the vampire event where the boys became vampires and wanted to bite MC... Someone proposed what if it was MC that became a vampire instead, and got to bite the boys.

(🔞 minors dni. Just the brothers, warnings for obvious vamp biting with blood mentions, getting horny from said bites, dry humping/grinding, cumming from being bitten, etc)

Just imagining being the first to bite the prideful Lucifer. He's trying to keep up the façade that he's in charge, infallible and stoic. But the second your fangs are in him, he can barely keep his head straight from the rush of endorphins. Can't stop his eyes from rolling back, the way his body heats up beneath you, and everything is extra sensitive to your touch. Face is flushed, breathy little pants coming from his mouth, and his eyes are hot and heavy like sweet lava flow. It even takes him a moment to realize that the sweet low moan filling the air isn't yours, but his. You know he's enjoying himself when his arms tightly wrap around your waist, holding you close as you lap at the bite marks, the lack of space making his erection glaringly obvious (plus the little rolls of his hips that he simply can't control~). Everything in his body language is screaming how he wants you. And don't mistake it, that thirst was present well before your fangs ever touched his skin. But all it took was opening the gate and it all comes flooding out.

Or being the first to bite Mammon, the excitable and slightly jumpy greedy tsundere. It may take a lot of convincing, but if you make him a pretty good deal, he might be willing to let you get a taste. And oh is he happy that he accepted your offer, because where he was once greedy for money, now he's only greedy for you. It's almost too easy for him to get lost in the pleasure of your bite. He's loud, whiny, but he's simply overwhelmed by how good it all feels. He'd likely be embarrassed if he knew how loud he was being. He gets that same rush of heat and fervor and the second you disconnect from him, he's stripping his clothes as fast as possible— both to cool himself down, and because he doesn't want any obstacles should things go any further. And oh the lack of clothes tells you exactly how much he's enjoying the bite, and that he's very willing to return the pleasure if you're interested.

Biting Leviathan for the first time is loud, intense, and full of nerves, but you truthfully don't expect anything different from the third-born. He's a ball of nerves before the bite, sweating bullets, talking a mile a minute, and looking like he'll run out of the room at any second. But once you bite him, he's practically limp under you, eyes hazy and filled with pleasure. It's only if you try to pull away that he can finally grasp you, beg you not to stop just yet. He's hooked on the euphoria and having you so close to him. He can't stop the way his fingers hold onto your thighs or hips, the rhythmic grinding of his pelvis against yours. And there's no mistaking what happened when a beautiful, overwhelming shudder takes over him, accompanied by his low keen and sudden wetness between the legs. Just don't mention it, otherwise all his remaining blood will be focused on making him blush in embarrassment.

You're a brave soul to try to bite Satan for the first time. But if you label it in the interest of research and studies, he folds surprisingly quick at the offer. Of course, he has everything he needs beforehand, towelettes, a comfy pillow, as well as fluids and some snacks to deal with post-blood-loss issues. It's almost funny how seriously he's taking everything, sitting upright in a seat and having you sit in his lap. Embarrassing, but effective for getting up close. He starts you with a bite on his wrist, and when that goes well, he's fine with graduating you further up his arm until you reach his neck. His face is flushed but otherwise schooled well; if it wasn't for the persistent boner pressing up against you, you'd say he was unaffected. But really, he's just thinking about how to prolong your presence here, and perhaps how to turn the tables and return the pleasure.

Who could forget giving Asmodeus his first bite? Biting him is everything a vampire bite is expected to be; it's passionate, it's sensual, hot, intimate, and dramatic. No one has ever accused Asmo of being quiet, and that's no different once you bite him. He's loud, but it's genuine, lips trembling as he does his best to hold onto his mind. He's no stranger to pleasurable things, but even this is a different experience for him, doing his best to keep a steady mind, even if his hips start to move on their own and his sensitive erection is driving him nuts rubbing up against you. After all, it's rude for him to get lost in the sauce before he can return the favor, especially when all he wants to do is pounce on you now thanks to the adrenaline. But wow if you're not making it difficult on him...

It's quite an experience for both you and Beel when you first bite him. To the untrained eye, Beel often appears unaffected by things with little emotional reaction. However, there's no hiding the flush in his cheeks as he let's you bite him, or the way his strong arms hold you close to him. Biting him is quite an experience for you too, as the varied diet rich in different meats means a lot of nutrients. He's not sure if he'd like you to bite him again, at least like that. He's unsure about how hot and needy he felt during and after the bite, more than a little embarrassed by his pressing need tenting his shorts. Honestly, he never expected to feel that way being bitten. But it was still a new experience and as long as you let him give some bites of his own, he's still happy to have tried it with you. And once it's over, he can spend his time with you on replenishing lost nutrients with some snacks and relaxing with you.

Biting Belphegor is not quite a chill as you expect, but it's not the worst it could be. Of the seven brothers, he may be the most hesitant about it, surprisingly, but he likes the idea of one on one time with you, especially doing something so seemingly intimate. Once there's a protective cover down (so his favorite pillow doesn't get stained, of course), he prefers for you to bite him while in bed, holding you close like a body pillow. You may need to start slow, nibbles and half bites on his wrist, but eventually he may let you bite his neck. Once you're there, he's a lost cause. It's a wonderful mix of heat and sleepiness, his always-tired brain wanting to drift off into the bliss your bite provides— though another, much more insistent part of him wants to chase after the lust pumping through his veins. He gets a little whiny afterwards, blaming you for this feeling (and is he wrong?), but the advantage of him holding you close to begin with means it's easy to get carried away in making up for the mess you've made.

[obae-me]

The Reunion We Deserved

I said I would do it and so I did, all in one night, one sitting, fueled by nothing but determination, random inspiration, and spite. I re-wrote and created my version of what I would've liked to see at the end of Nightbringer Season 2. Is this a bit dramatic? Yes? Is this the kind of thing I wanted anyway? Yes. I want sobbing, I want people being pathetic, I want emotion, I want it all. So, if that's what you were hoping to see for lesson 40, I hope this can ease some of that anger we had.

Spoilers ahead for Nightbringer since this is quite literally my "remaking" of the ending, which includes in-game references to later lessons!

TW: Blood mention, injury, angst.

Word Count: 4,391

Tears pricked your eyes as you looked upon the several smiling faces of the demons you had come to care for. At the beginning, all you could think of was returning to your home, your time-line, your brothers. You had coped thus far by constantly reminding yourself that these were not the same people you had come to know. But now… after delving into their souls, reforging the pacts, fleeing down the different circles of hell to save one only to nearly lose them all… they’d found their way into your heart once more. How could you? How could you leave them so easily? And tell them to their faces that you’d meet again soon when you knew it was a lie. It might be soon for you, but it would be nearly an eternity for them. Not to mention that the way Solomon and Barbatos described it, this was almost like another universe… Would another version of you show up for them? Or would you leave these particular brothers for good?…

Feet frozen in sorrow and anxiousness, you could only look at them and cry. What were you feeling in this very second, now that you were on the cusp of what you had worked so hard for? The way back home was right above you, the air and magic inches away from sucking you up into it’s mystical vacuum. Your precious family, your home was one step away. So why did it also feel like your heart was being torn from you? “I—“ Your words choked up in your throat. You were tempted to tell them everything right there and then, spill the burden you had been carrying on your shoulder this entire time.

“It’ll be alright,” Lucifer spoke up, seeing your worry, but exuding nothing but confidence himself. “I gave you my blessing after all.”

“Plus, with the Great Mammon’s pact, you’re hella lucky! You’ll get home with no problems, I’d bet on it! S-So you better not make me lose, got it? Get home safe…and happy.”

Levi shook his head a little. “You’d bet on anything wouldn’t you…” But then he turned his head back towards you, nearly just as bold as Lucifer in this one moment. “If someone like me can have courage, you can too. Don’t worry! You’re just like a Main Character! You have indestructible plot armor!”

“Did everyone already forget the white dragon I helped summon?” Satan scoffed. “Their safety and success is guaranteed. So don’t give us that face,” he addressed you.

“Besides!” Asmo perked up. “If anything happened we’d all come rushing to save you! Just like we did for Lucifer. If we can do that, we can do anything! Oo, I just said something real dashing just now! You better take that to heart, hun!”

Beel nodded several times. “You have Luke’s wish egg too. I also made wishes over my eggs at breakfast this morning. I wished for you to always feel healthy and full and loved. And that we’d get to see each other again soon.”

“Those eggs might’ve tasted magical Beel, but they weren’t really…” Belphie looked up his twin as he shook his head, but then he shrugged, coming to the conclusion that it wasn’t worth explaining. “Hey,” he stared at you. “Don’t waste your energy crying now. You’ll need all your strength for your journey. I won’t forgive you if you leave too sad.”

All their words ended up making you laugh, the smile across your face twitching as you worked to force out trembling words. “You all better be kind to one another.” Someone behind you was tugging on your arm. “And make sure you don’t tease Luke too hard.”

“Come on,” Solomon whispered softly to you, tugging you a little harder, making you take a few steps back. The rift in space-time started to roar, attempting to drown out your voice as you struggled for these last few seconds.

“And make sure you all remember to eat and sleep properly. A-and, tell the others at the ceremony that I love them. I… love you all so much.”

“We have to go…” Solomon’s voice sounded tense, like he was nearly ready to cry himself, only keeping himself strong for you. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he nearly hoisted you back himself. Before you left, you reached into the pocket of your pants, fishing out the letter that you had written alone in your old room, what seemed like forever ago now, the one still stained with old tears. You tossed it to the ground in front of you, hoping they would read it, hoping it would help…them live without you.

The last thing you heard was a chorus of cracking voices, getting cut off before they could tell you they loved you too…

And then you were gone. A harsh and forceful wind seemed to suck all the air from your breath. It was almost as if you were being plunged underwater, several forces of pressure from the thousands of years you were swirling past was threatening to crush you. The only sensation you were aware of was Solomon’s. His arms were holding onto you tightly, continuing to mutter spells over and over and over again to keep you safe, expending all of his waining power to push you both through the folds of reality and out on the other side.

Gravity. Disorientation. Falling. A heavy weight slammed against your chest so hard, you wondered if your ribs cracked. The back of your head hit something firm. Everything went black for a while.

After who knows how long, your eyes opened again, staring straight up into the Devildom sky, the shifted stars more familiar to you. Your head was splitting with pain, your breath a wheeze as you glanced down to see Solomon’s limp body keeping you pinned against the ground.

“S-Solomon?” It took a short while for the panic to settle in. “Solomon!” After a moment of struggling, you managed to get him off of you, setting him on his back in the grassy plane you had been spat back out onto. His face looked drained. A chant left the base of your throat, using the last scrap of magic you had to give him a spell to reinvigorate his body. His eyes shot open, coughing as he rolled over onto his side, pushing himself up onto his arms before he fell down again. “Take it easy!” Together, using each other as support, you both got back up to your feet.

“I’m sorry…I had meant to deliver us right in front of the House of Lamentation, but…”

“You did alright,” you assured him, rubbing his back to keep his dizzy mind conscious. “A bit of a rough landing, but we’re alive…” But then, the better question was… “Are we—“

“There you are.” A calm voice manifested itself as a demon in front of you. Barbatos stepped out of a portal, his expression nearly as neutral as ever, except there was something in his eyes that was shining, a strange tremor to his hand that was completely unnatural for someone as him. Then he frowned as he took in the state of both of you, his nostrils flaring as he took the both of you with him, each with one gloved hand. You were pulled into a much less chaotic rift this time. Although the jolt was still enough to nearly cause both you and the sorcerer to fall back to your knees. Before that could happen though, you were shoved into a bed.

The guest rooms of the castle appeared the same as always, but something in particular felt nostalgic, like you’d just returned to a childhood home. Solomon appeared to be ushered into a bed right by your side, both your minds too rattled to resist, as the butler threw open the guest room door from the inside and summoned nearly every Little D in the entire building. “I need human medication, bandages, two sets of pajamas, the herbal tea I set aside in the kitchen. I need the oven preheated, the counter prepared, two trays set, and need them all done within the next two minutes.” There was a very subtle raise to his voice, the seriousness of his tone sending a chill down your spine and sending every Little D scattering for their lives. Barbatos spent one second observing them flee before he dissipated once more, getting wisked away through another portal of his own making.

This all felt…so surreal. Perhaps it was the pain that you were in that was making it feel like a dream. Like you’d wake up in Cocytus Hall and be right back at square one. And yet, something in you was missing that place… that house that you had just started to get used to. The furniture and things both you and Solomon had bought to make it your shared home. But your real home was here. Well, hopefully here.

You wouldn’t get your hopes up over anything yet. Not until you got to see them.

Barbatos returned before you could even begin to ask Solomon about any of this. A whirl of varying shades of green caused your vision to do somersaults as you were quickly fretted over. Salves and bandages were wrapped around your torso and a damp cloth gently touched the back of your head. That splitting pain resurfaced, joining forces with an added stinging. Maybe it was your body going into shock, but you could’ve sworn you heard a shaky shush coming from your current caretaker as you were cleaned and patched up quickly. Luckily, it wasn’t too much longer after that till the aches went mostly away, your head clearing up again as a set of your own pajamas were settled at the foot of the bed, a silver tray stretched over your lap and propped up on two stands. A small plate with a single pastry sat in front of you, along with a bitter smelling dark-green tea that you could tell you’d rather avoid imbibing.

Swiveling your head to the side, you saw Solomon leaning back against the headrest and a few pillows, a bit more vibrancy in his eyes, although those intense dark circles were hard to miss. He was okay. Thank…everything.

“Eat. Drink. Both of you.” The butler stood between the beds, realizing he’d spoken quite against his normal demeanor, he cleared his throat, his palm pressed between his collarbones. “Phoenix’s Breath Tea. You’ll both need it to recover. I apologize for making you both consume something so distasteful, but I’ve found it goes down a bit smoother paired with something sweet.”

A single whiff of the hot beverage in your hand was enough to make you cough, some sense burning in your nose. You settled the cup back down, taking a deep breath, trying to get your head on straight. “Barbatos… Are we…?”

The butler’s eyelids fluttered slowly. “You are,” he stated, his voice quiet, almost in awe. “You’re home. Back in the world you belong.”

A lump immediately formed in your throat, pushing the tray forward and turning to get out of bed. “I need to go. I need to see them, I—“ Before you could get one foot touching the ground, you were wrangled back into bed.

“I’ll fetch them. I swear you won’t have to wait too much longer. But you must drink the tea and you must take a moment to recover. If the others were to know the state you both were in right now, the castle would be torn—“

A banging sound ripped through the room like a gunshot. The guest room door was busted completely off it’s hinges, the wood of the frame splintering, the door soaring across to the left and fully embedding itself into the wall like a dart stuck in a board. If it weren’t for Barbatos’ inhuman skills, you’ve spilled the tea and dessert all over yourself. The royal attendant audibly sighed, sweeping himself to his feet and holding his arms out, his demon form manifesting, wrestling back a writhing and screaming black mass.

Your eyes went wide.

The mass stopped fighting, going rigid, stepping back to form seven different individuals. Three more non-hostile forms stood back in the wrecked doorway, two white, one red.

The bottom of your lip trembled as an overwhelming surge of joy and despair and relief and guilt all flooded out of you in tears. Your fears were pushed away. Your soul seemed to click back into place, like you’d been the last puzzle piece just waiting to finish the picture. “I’m home…”

Chaos erupted in the castle guest room. A few cracking wails nearly burst your eardrums. Asmo’s arms were the first to wrap around you, mascara running down his cheeks in large inky trails, but he didn’t seemed concerned in the least. Kisses lined your face with each sharp intake of breath, too shaken to even speak, he could only address you in his cries as he clutched onto you, trembling. His hand stroked your head, his breathing stopping for a moment when he saw the damage the landing had caused. This only caused him to whimper and cry harder, his thumb running over the outline of your features, running the back of his fingernails over your cheeks.

Levi was stuttering incomprehensibly. As he fell to his knees, he clutched at his head, going through an entire panic attack. He clawed at his chest, tearing gashes into the front of his clothes, looking up at you behind large welling tears as his tail wrapped around his entire torso. Mist filled the entire room as he continued to shake and cry so fervently he couldn’t even stand.

Luke was quite a ways away, holding onto Simeon’s clothing as he screeched out painful genuine child-like cries. The Angel curled over him, shushing him, getting to his own knees to hold the fledgling to his chest, assuring both the little angel and himself that you were okay. You were alright. Miracles had brought you together again. They didn’t have to worry any longer. The sleepless nights, the endless nightmares, the never-ending cold grip of sorrow could go away. He spoke this mantra- this prayer- over and over again, taking deep breaths between the words, blinking rapidly as he had to sway him and his charge back and forth to keep themselves both at ease. The older angel took the occasional glance over Luke’s shoulder, muttering a thankful blessing on repeat every-time he locked with your eyes.

Satan was thrashing around the room, screaming wildly, out of control, ready to beat Barbatos and Solomon for making you arrive in this condition, for not bringing you sooner, for not telling them sooner, for— Eventually, after getting thrown around the room a little, he ran out of things to be angry for. All it took was one look at your face to calm him down. He approached carefully, angry at himself, angry at whoever it was that took you away, but trying to keep himself together. Satan gingerly pulled Asmo off of you, turning Lust over to Solomon. Clearly, he’d been worried about his other pact-mate, hugging the sorcerer and crying a little more softly into his shoulder. Meanwhile, Satan reached a hand out hesitantly, like you were a feral cat he was trying to pet, worried you’d run away. His hand brushed through your hair and settled at the side of your face. Once he realized you weren’t going anywhere, his arms pulled you to him, pressing your face against his shoulder. “You’re here. You’re here again. You’re—“ His voice went hoarse, like he was losing it, like he’d been doing nothing but screaming for the entirely of your absence. Soon his words were nothing but faded squeaks, trying to portray his words but unable to. He simply held you instead. Then he tore himself away from you, heading over to the back wall and punching holes into the structure till his knuckles turned bloody.

Someone crawled onto the bed. Belphegor peered at you with an almost blank expression. His hand reached out, touching your knee, flinching as soon as he made contact, like the very act of him doing so would hurt you further. You could tell that maybe he felt like some of this was his fault, like he’d deserved the pain of having you be sent away from him, like if he did anything wrong again, you’d vanish for real this time, How many times could you come back from the dead? How close was he to losing you entirely? For good? As soon as his warmth mixed with yours, he collapsed on the mattress, curling up at your feet. He gathered the blanket towards his face, the end of his tail twitching erratically. His sobs were silent but violent, the entire bed shifting and bouncing as his body convulsed, his chest pounding as he broke down. Every once and a while, he would become extremely frightened, needing to gasp and look up to ensure you were real. You weren’t a dream. He pinched himself, shook his head, even almost bit at his hands to snap him out of this vision. But you were really here. He would curl back up and continue to cry.

White hair bobbed in front of your vision, two hands going to your shoulders and shaking you, pinning you against the headboard, fingernails careful not to dig themselves into your skin as they gripped your body. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Huh? Huh?! Do you have any idea what you put us through?! What you put me through?!” Mammon growls and screams shocked you.

“Mammon.” Lucifer’s voice settled as a stern warning, but something about it seemed weaker than usual.

Greed ignored him, continuing his rant. “You were just gone. Gone! You know that?!” He shook you again, careful not to rattle you too much. “And what am I supposed to do about that, huh?! What did I say?! I said—“ His voice cracked, trails of moisture streaming from his eyes and over his lips. “I said,” he repeated, “if you’re ever in trouble, you have to let me save you. What part of that didn’t you understand?! How dare you get taken somewhere where I can’t reach you?! How dare you?! How dare you?!” His voice continued to raise in pitch, sounding more and more unstable with each accusing question. Then he slumped, his forehead pressing against your chest as his hands held onto your shoulders tighter, almost bruising them, fearful of letting you go. He began shaking you a few times more, each shake meeker than the last. “How dare you. How dare you… How… W- What was I supposed to do if you didn’t come back?… The world is nothin’… I’m nothin’…”

Beel came over and helped his older brother to his feet, allowing him to sit on the side of your bed as Mammon furiously used the back of his wrist to rub at his cheeks. Gluttony stood over you, looking down with a wide close-lipped smile. “Welcome back.” He leaned down, pressing his cheek against yours as his large arms wrapped around the back of your neck. He took in the scent of you, burying his face into the crook of your neck for a moment. His body didn’t shutter, didn’t make noise, but you felt a few warm tears of his drip onto your skin. He silently and secretly teared up for just a few moments before he stood back up straight, gesturing to the tray with your items on it. “Eat, please. It’ll make you feel better.” The sixth-born took a few steps back to let you breathe, and as he moved back, someone else moved forward.

Lucifer stood at your bedside for quite some time in silence, looking down on you with a rather unreadable expression. He had a frown, eyes squinting like he was upset at you. He scanned you over, his brows furrowing, his jaw clenching. He refused to move, refused to say anything, refused to look you directly in the eyes. You moved forward a little, grabbing his hand, holding it in yours. All the sudden, the tension released. His eyes widened before his eyelids lowered, glancing at you past the vulnerable shimmer past his irises. Wrinkles of stress deepened in his forehead as his whole face contorted in agony. He held your hand tightly, bringing the back of it up to his lips. After that, he pulled you against him, his forehead pressed up against yours, his wings in his demon form acting as some sort of visual blocker, as if he couldn’t stand to have the rest of the room see how he was acting right now. He rubbed his face against yours back and forth, one small touch away from cooing, his hands caressing the sides of your neck, feeling your pulse, hearing your breath, taking in every detail and confirming to himself that you were indeed in his arms again, alive and mostly well. “You’ve come back to us,” he whispered, the end of his nose touching yours as one of his hands cradled the back of your neck. “Back to me.” His breath was hot as he panted for a moment, taking a deep breath and speaking in a hushed tone. “I had nearly begun to entertain the thought that…”

You pulled him closer to you, letting his head rest on your chest as you reached around to his back, grasping the cloth of his clothes in your hands. “You know I would fight through all the layers of hell to get to you.”

That seemed to resonate with him, but you weren’t quite sure he remembered that you were speaking quite literally. All those adventures…the things you’d all learned. How lost were they?…

However, Lucifer simply smiled, laughing a little, squeezing you before laughing again. “Yes, if anyone would do such a thing, it would be you. I shouldn’t have doubted you.” He straighted, fixed his clothing, lowered his wings, and moved further back into the room, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger as he paced towards a back corner.

Levi had finally soothed himself enough to move, walking on his knees towards the bed. His hands were fidgeting with every part of his outfit. Eyes puffy from crying, throat raw from his collapse earlier, he kept himself from speaking. You managed to smile down at him and wipe away the last few of his tears. His lips shook again before he lowered his head into your lap. Face-down in the fabric of the blanket, he kept shaking his head. He didn’t stop until your fingers ran through his hair. With a forced gulp, he eventually vocalized words. “I missed you… I was- was- was so scared I would…”

“Lose you.” Belphie sat up in bed, ignoring the fact that his face was now a mess. He scooted closer towards your side on the bed. “We thought we lost you.”

The youngest was able to say what none of the others could. Full silence washed over the room as the reality of the situation fully seemed to hit them, their shock slowly starting to fade.

Diavolo strode in, everyone moving out of the way to allow him to have his own time with you. The corners of his eyes crunched in happiness. His tight and broad shoulders sagged. Both of his large hands scooped up one of yours, bringing your touch to the side of his face. He closed his eyes, almost appearing as if he might purr any second. As he opened his sight back at you, a fire of positivity and excitement lit within him. “A party! We must throw a party! A welcome home celebration! This is…this is… a joyous day.”

At first, the others seemed confused. Then, one-by-one, small determined smiles spread across their faces. The sorrow melted and gave way to pure uncontrollable elation. People hugged each other, danced around the room, cheered, bounced, came back to kiss you, came back to hug you, nearly passing you around the room till Barbatos barged back in and took your hand, bringing you back to bed.

For a while, you assumed he would shut the idea down entirely. But then, the butler grinned. “I figured you would all say as much. Some preparations are already being made. In the meantime, we should let these two rest. They’ve had all too much excitement today.” Barbatos pulled the blanket back over your legs, readjusting the tray and giving you a biting glare that told you you wouldn’t be able to get out of drinking that god-forsaken tea. “But after that, we will celebrate. We will take every day and night to cherish you, and make up for the time we lost.”

Most of the brothers tried clinging to you, demanding they get to stay, but Diavolo, Barbatos, Lucifer, and Simeon managed to corral the desperate demons and one small angel out of the room.

But before they all left, you shouted. “Wait!” They all turned, worried that something was wrong. However, you smiled, happy tears running down your face this time. “I love you all. So very much.”

“I cherish you with every fibre of my being.”

“There ain’t nothing more priceless than you.”

“E-Everything is so much more fun with you here with m-m- us…”

“I…don’t want to even try to imagine a world without you in it.”

“Nothing, and I mean nothing, hun, is as charming as you.”

“Our family isn’t complete without you in it.”

“You belong with us. End of story.”

“You are one of the most precious beings the three realms has ever known.”

“I find myself discovering new things to enjoy every moment I spend with you.”

“Listen, you are a shining beacon in the night. Know how special you are.”

“You teach me so much! If it weren’t for you, I might still be scare— I mean, dislike demons!”

“My dear apprentice… We couldn’t have gotten home without you. You deserve the world. I will stick by you no matter where you go. And you deserve to know—“

“How much we love you too.”

[eelhound]

"I think Homer outwits most writers who have written on the War [fantasy archetype], by not taking sides.

The Trojan war is not and you cannot make it be the War of Good vs. Evil. It’s just a war, a wasteful, useless, needless, stupid, protracted, cruel mess full of individual acts of courage, cowardice, nobility, betrayal, limb-hacking-off, and disembowelment. Homer was a Greek and might have been partial to the Greek side, but he had a sense of justice or balance that seems characteristically Greek — maybe his people learned a good deal of it from him? His impartiality is far from dispassionate; the story is a torrent of passionate actions, generous, despicable, magnificent, trivial. But it is unprejudiced. It isn’t Satan vs. Angels. It isn’t Holy Warriors vs. Infidels. It isn’t hobbits vs. orcs. It’s just people vs. people.

Of course you can take sides, and almost everybody does. I try not to, but it’s no use; I just like the Trojans better than the Greeks. But Homer truly doesn’t take sides, and so he permits the story to be tragic. By tragedy, mind and soul are grieved, enlarged, and exalted.

Whether war itself can rise to tragedy, can enlarge and exalt the soul, I leave to those who have been more immediately part of a war than I have. I think some believe that it can, and might say that the opportunity for heroism and tragedy justifies war. I don’t know; all I know is what a poem about a war can do. In any case, war is something human beings do and show no signs of stopping doing, and so it may be less important to condemn it or to justify it than to be able to perceive it as tragic.

But once you take sides, you have lost that ability.

Is it our dominant religion that makes us want war to be between the good guys and the bad guys?

In the War of Good vs. Evil there can be divine or supernal justice but not human tragedy. It is by definition, technically, comic (as in The Divine Comedy): the good guys win. It has a happy ending. If the bad guys beat the good guys, unhappy ending, that���s mere reversal, flip side of the same coin. The author is not impartial. Dystopia is not tragedy.

Milton, a Christian, had to take sides, and couldn’t avoid comedy. He could approach tragedy only by making Evil, in the person of Lucifer, grand, heroic, and even sympathetic — which is faking it. He faked it very well.

Maybe it’s not only Christian habits of thought but the difficulty we all have in growing up that makes us insist justice must favor the good.

After all, 'Let the best man win' doesn’t mean the good man will win. It means, 'This will be a fair fight, no prejudice, no interference — so the best fighter will win it.' If the treacherous bully fairly defeats the nice guy, the treacherous bully is declared champion. This is justice. But it’s the kind of justice that children can’t bear. They rage against it. It’s not fair!

But if children never learn to bear it, they can’t go on to learn that a victory or a defeat in battle, or in any competition other than a purely moral one (whatever that might be), has nothing to do with who is morally better.

Might does not make right — right?

Therefore right does not make might. Right?

But we want it to. 'My strength is as the strength of ten because my heart is pure.'

If we insist that in the real world the ultimate victor must be the good guy, we’ve sacrificed right to might. (That’s what History does after most wars, when it applauds the victors for their superior virtue as well as their superior firepower.) If we falsify the terms of the competition, handicapping it, so that the good guys may lose the battle but always win the war, we’ve left the real world, we’re in fantasy land — wishful thinking country.

Homer didn’t do wishful thinking.

Homer’s Achilles is a disobedient officer, a sulky, self-pitying teenager who gets his nose out of joint and won’t fight for his own side. A sign that Achilles might grow up someday, if given time, is his love for his friend Patroclus. But his big snit is over a girl he was given to rape but has to give back to his superior officer, which to me rather dims the love story. To me Achilles is not a good guy. But he is a good warrior, a great fighter — even better than the Trojan prime warrior, Hector. Hector is a good guy on any terms — kind husband, kind father, responsible on all counts — a mensch. But right does not make might. Achilles kills him.

The famous Helen plays a quite small part in The Iliad. Because I know that she’ll come through the whole war with not a hair in her blond blow-dry out of place, I see her as opportunistic, immoral, emotionally about as deep as a cookie sheet. But if I believed that the good guys win, that the reward goes to the virtuous, I’d have to see her as an innocent beauty wronged by Fate and saved by the Greeks.

And people do see her that way. Homer lets us each make our own Helen; and so she is immortal.

I don’t know if such nobility of mind (in the sense of the impartial 'noble' gases) is possible to a modern writer of fantasy. Since we have worked so hard to separate History from Fiction, our fantasies are dire warnings, or mere nightmares, or else they are wish fulfillments."

- Ursula K. Le Guin, from No Time to Spare, 2013.

[killerkillerkillher]

Bound to Fall in Love

Angel/Demon! 141 x reader

Tags: kidnapping, sacrifices, religious references, reader is too angry to die, reader commits murder lol, canon typical violence??, reader gets a kissy on the forehead, a tad crack-ish

Inclusivity tags: reader is referred to w he/him and they/them pronouns, no bodily description, no y/n

A/n: call my brain an apple w all the worms it's got. This was just a blurb at first, but I made room in there for me to potentially make it into... something I guess.

minors dni!

"Cole, I can't fucking focus while they're just... staring at us like that."

"Ignore it, Bess. We have to finish these candles."

You wish a bolt of lightening would come down and strike all three of you at once. Or maybe the building spontaneously combusting would be better. Anything, anything, would be better at this moment than watching your boyfriend and best friend work together to light a summoning circle after having tied you up in your sleep.

For a fraction of a second, you wonder if any gods are watching, if any of them would be willing to give you a boon and allow you one last chance to punch both of these betrayers in the face.

"Okay, okay, the book," Bess mutters, going to the pick up her ritual book from the coffee table you bought. Honestly, if they were going to try to sacrifice you somewhere, your living room is one of the most disrespectful places. Probably right under your bed room.

"I'm sorry," Cole has the gaul to look down at you with a face stricken with grief. Like you're dead already. "We didn't know what else to do. We're both in bad places and you've always been so good to us, so we figured-"

"You better hope this fucking kills me." You grunt. Cole's face melts into a glare. "Because if I'm still breathing, it's going to take more than Satan's intervention to save you from me. I swear on my mother." You jerk forward, making him jump back a step.

"Cole...?" Bess looks at you, then up at Cole with unease. Cole doesn't say anything for a second, sorting his feelings out with a leer before turning to her.

"Read the book."

He drags you into the middle of their pentagram while she sings Latin words off the old book pages. The candles flicker and waver before their flames grow twice as tall. Cole rolls you onto your back and pulls a knife from his back pocket.

"I meant it when I said I'm sorry," Cole mutters. You snarl, but don't jump at him like you want to.

"Yeah? Yeah, you're sorry? Kiss my ass!" You shout over Bess's reading. "If I'm still alive after this, I'm killing you and burying you in the fucking septic tank!" You crane your head up so you can see Bess as well. "Time to get some stuff off my chest, yeah? Bess, I fucked your older brother on the day we graduated."

Her eyes go wide, and she almost stops talking, but Cole shoots her a look that forces her to continue.

"And his friend Carl, the one you had a crush on. And Cole? I never. Fucking. Finished. Ever! You are the only person I've dated who couldn't get me off." Cole's hand's twitch around the blade.

"Are you serious?"

"Does now look like a time to- ack!" You don't get to finish because Bess finished the spell and it was time for your blood to fuel it. The blade buries in your gut, turning this way and that way at measured increments. You just lay there and twitch, breathy gasps falling from your gaping mouth, the pain only throwing fuel to the fires of your rage.

"Please, we call you here! Honor us with your presence!" Bess chants. Cole step away from you when the candles roar and your vision is filled with bright red and orange.

The ground beneath you rumbles. Whispers fill your ears, nothing you can ever imagine understanding, but something tells you they're other summoners. Or maybe little souls of those who were just where you are now, with a people sacrificing them.

It's odd, you think as blood soaks your back, your hair. You thought you'd be more scared in what could be your final moments. But there's only anguish where there should be fear. Only unfettered violent tension felt in your muscles, and a tongue hungering for iron and gore. You're jaw is wound tight enough to shatter your teeth.

If you could think straight, if you weren't about to die, you might be a little concerned. Never have you wanted to sink your fingers into someone's soft bits as much as you do now. This is normal, right? A normal amount of rage for the people taking your life.

Something in your gut tells you it's not.

In the fog of your rage, you missed the appearance of a pair of men above you. They hover, leathery plum colored wings sagging. One wears a leather strap harness across his chest, while the other favors an unbuttoned silk shirt. One of them looks at you curious as the fire dies, steam and copper colored smoke bellowing from his mouth. A thick cigar hangs on his lips.

"You came! There's... two of you?" Cole gawks, then falls to his knees beside Bess. You can't help but scoff at their sniveling forms.

"We did. There are." The one without the cigar brushes back his long mohawk to get a better look at the whimpering humans. They're nothing new to them, just another set of weak little things looking to get something without putting in the work for it.

Well, they might have had to put in the work to capture you, based on the way you still squirm and fight the rope keeping your arms together. So much blood has left you. You are going to die. Yet you spend your last moments doing what most humans find to be a waste of precious time. Being angry. It's interesting.

"What do you want?" The bearded one in the silk shirt grunts out around his cigar. Bess lifts her head just a bit to speak.

"We want to make a trade. A soul for a better life for us."

There's a moment of silence. You blink your heavy lids, growing too tired to do much else anymore. Both demons look back at you, then to the kneeling humans.

"They're not dead." They say at the same time.

Bess and Cole stiffen and finally chance a glance at you. You're bleeding, a glassy look to your eye and a smile on your face, but you're not dead.

"See, Bess?" You cough up blood only to swallow it back down, "what did I tell you? The cunt can't make me come and can't... can't even make me go."

The mohawked devil pops a wicked smile, not even hiding it from his would-be contractors.

Cole fumes. "I can finish the job. Fuck, am I going to finish the job." He stands, moving to step into the circle only to yelp, the invisible border around the summoning circle becoming visible if only to shock Cole back.

"Not so fast," the bearded one spawns a scroll in his hand. He's eyes glow a molten orange as he scans it. "Section 1, clause 3, part 19 states: executioner(s) must sacrifice one(1) human soul to contractee(s)... Let's see... Here it is: Sacrificee(s) must be dead upon arrival so that proper collection can be done. If sacrificee(s) is still soul bond upon arrival, then they are made the true contractor and all work will be conducted with them."

"In other words," the mohawked one grinned, "you should have went for the heart." He taps at his chest.

"Or the neck." The other devil offers.

"Or that vein in they're thigh."

"The sephenous, Johnny."

"Yeah, that."

"No, no!" Cole grabs at his hair as Bess looks like she's about to start crying. You want to laugh. They deserve the despair. They deserve the horror in their mistake. They were going to kill you!

"That means," the devils lean back to look at you. "You're our contractor. You get two requests at the price of one, human. I suggest one of those requests includes healing you." He flicks the ashes of his cigar on your leg. You don't even have to think of what you want most right now.

"I want you to untie me." You roll on your side. They wait for the rest. Cole and Bess look like they're going to shit themselves from the pale faced looks of terror they give you. Your eyes narrow. "And a hammer. A old fashioned iron and wood handled hammer."

Another beat of silence before the infernals bend over in laughter. The room shacks, sulfuric smoke pouring from their mouths to funk up the room. Cole tries to cox Bess to her feet while they're distracted. Their feet can't move though. It's like they're glued in placed and no amount of pulling and tugging could get them loose. Shame.

"Yer a funny one, love. I'll love having your soul for a few eternities." The one in leather floats over you, tilting his head this way and that way to get a good look at you. You settle him with a neutral look. "My name is Johnny. You sure that's what you want? I think you've only got a few minutes left in you."

"Then let's hurry this up a little, huh?"

"Ooh, you heard 'em." The cigared one snickers and snaps his claws. Two contracts appear in front of your face, both written in a language you can hardly comprehend. A pen appeared in front of your mouth. "Sign on the dotted line please."

You take the quill in your mouth, dip it in the blood beneath you.

"Rah 'ere?"

"Mhm."

You lean forward to dot the paper with your sloppy signature, but bizarrely enough, it seems like the powers that be have decided that they haven't made enough appearances. The floor trembles, and you worry about your poor infrastructure for a fraction of a second, when a set of gold doors spawn right behind you. You roll back onto your back to intake everything. You swear you're hallucinating when a pair of white winged angels step out, the clouded blue of heaven at their back.

"Hello?" You greet stupidly. You must be losing your mind, right? What the fuck is happening.

"Do not sign a thing." The bronzen angel instructs. "Human, we are here as messengers. God sees great things for you in your ascension. Please do not squander that to these demons." He shoots a sharp look at the demonic pair. The angel's counterpart wears a white cloak, obscuring all but his glowing golden eyes. You half expect him to sing "Be not afraid." despite you actively shitting bricks.

Oddly enough, their appearence seems to have some sort of healing property. Your lethargy starts to clear and the blade in your gut starts to get pushed out. Nothing hurts anymore.

"Oh, so we've got a big soul on our hands here, huh?" Johnny smirks. "Price, what's the plan?"

Price the devil throws his cigar to the ground and crushes it.

"Do what we do best. Bargain."

"Don't play with us, Price." The shrouded angel grunts. He's got a mind piercing voice that's got your head ringing, and you swear it echoes despite the room being well furnished. "We can provide them with just as much, if not more, at no cost of their soul." Those gold orbs land on you. "All we ask for is your faith."

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You tug at your bonds with renewed vigor. The angels wince at the mention of their Lord, but only watch as you force yourself upright. "I could not give a rat's ass who gets what! How about this? First one to get me free and a hammer in hand gets my loyalty."

There's two resounding snaps from either side of you. The ropes disappear, a hammer is in your left and right hand. You don't think deeper on what that implies. You finally stand, dropping the hammer in your nondominant hand, and march over to the two people you thought you could trust. They kneel now, seemingly ready to beg for their souls.

"Come on, don't look scared now." You drop your hands on your hips. "What happened to you finishing the job?"

"I didn't want-"

"Say it with your chest." You poke his breast plate with the iron hammer head.

"I didn't want it to come to this!" Cole yells. The divine audience doesn't say anything about it. They watch you curiously as you bounce the hammer in hand. Your soul is visible to them. What should be a glowing ball of light is a red and white morning star, all sharp edges and pulsing like a heart. Your soul will certainly not end up with the others, that much is true.

"I just... I couldn't keep up with you! Your life style, the way you act, your job. I never left good enough. Bess expressed the same thing and we just... clicked. We would have just left, but we could have never lived without struggling, so we just..." He swallows. You can't look at him anymore, hands clenching at what he says next. "The book called for someone we cared for."

''That supposed to make me feel better?" You tilt your head. Cole winces, eyes falling on your feet. You look to Bess. "Thought you were better than this. You were going to kill me. Because what, I was happy? I loved both of you, you could have just talked to me."

"We're sorry! What more do you want?" Bess sobs. You straighten up, bouncing the hammer on your hip, acting like you next action is something to deliberate. You already know what they deserve, and a flash of sadness bubbles in your chest, but it quickly passes as a hot, searing emotion burns a hole into what little hesitation you had left.

"Reckon I want your souls after all the shit you've caused." You grin before swinging the hammer back and caving in Cole's chest.

"Fuck..." is all you can say after everything is done. Cole and Bess lay in a bloody heep, all recognizable features destroyed and crushed. You pant, hands trembling and nothing but white noise and static crunching around in your head. You just killed your best friend and boyfriend. For some reason, you've never felt so light.

Someone's whistle gets followed by a clap.

"Impressive. Done that before?" Johnny chuckles. He floats closer, hand running down your back as he moves past and pokes around the pulped organs. "Shite, did them right in. Can't tell which is which."

"I've never-" you start to answer, but hands are clapped onto your shoulders, shocking you into silence.

"Well, that was a good place to start, lad. Your swings were a bit sloppy, but we can fix that." Price squeezes at your trapezius, massaging the stiffness out of them. A throat clears, and Price sighs like he forgot there was other company.

"We aren't finished. The human is our ward now, Price." The uncloaked angel snaps his finger, pulling you from Price and making you spawn between the two angels. The bronzen angel smiles down at you with teeth so white you could damn near see your reflection.

"There you are. It's nicer to have you close. My friend here is Simon and I'm-"

"Come on, Kyle, you know he's ours!" Johnny spits, his wings flaring out. "We gave him the hammer first, so piss off."

"Uh...huh." Kyle's smile falls. "I think you're a bit mistaken. Look, after executing the human's request, I have his name here." A stone slab appears in front of your face. It's smells like sunshine and warm grass. What the fuck. "His pledge to the Lord has been set and his soul already has a place next to Their throne."

"Right, right, like we don't have documentation neither." Johnny huffs. The stone disappears as a scroll appears next to the devil. The smell of sulfur and smoke wafts over to you. "His name is right there, pretty boy. Getting yer fuckin' lookers on."

Kyle ignores the rude tone and does pull out a pair of reading glasses to go over the scroll. You stand there in the silence, a little too scared to speak up. What could you do anyway? In a blind anger, you didn't really have the mind to think any of this out. Angels and devils are fighting over you because you'd stupid ass was too blood hungry to think past murder. All that can be done is for them to figure this out amongst themselves, and for you to wait for the sentencing. Heaven, or Hell?

"...Simon." Kyle slowly pulls his glasses off. "This is legit. His soul is promised to all of us."

You glance up at Simon, the scary motherfucker. He blinks. Once. Twice. Then pinches the bridge of his nose with a hagard sigh.

"Shit."

That's not good.

Johnny laughs, Price grinning like a dog with a bone. Kyle marches over to you, patting your shoulders with an awkward smile. His demeanor reminds you of the way your mom acted when she said she was going to divorce your dad. And all you can think is "Not this again." Are you going to be spending your afterlife going between heaven and hell forever? Does God get weekends because Their day is Sunday or whatever?

"We need to go and talk this over with some superiors. We'll clean this up," Kyle snaps and the gore is gone, so is the ritual circle and candles. "And we'll get back to you in the morning." He places a feather light kiss on your forehead, and suddenly you're squeaky clean and in the softest set of pajamas you've ever worn. "Stay safe while we're gone and don't allow these two to influence you. Get some rest."

"Blah, blah, blah," Johnny mocks from the sidelines. Price tilts his head, and there's nothing but amusement behind those eyes. Yeah, this is exactly like your parents divorce.

"O-okay? I mean, I'll try." You shrug.

Simon nods. "That's all you can do." He steps back into the golden doorway and Kyle falls in stride. You make some distance, and with a final wave from a white toothed angel, the doors shut with a slam that shakes the house's foundation.

"Just you and us now, stud."

You turn with a comedic slowness to the devils. Price chuffs and floats forward. His assess you, takes you in in all your fluffy white pajama glory, and it seems he finds what he wants when he nods.

"Guess we've got to talk with top brass to see what's going on ourselves. Pity we couldn't stick around longer." The devil's eyes never meet yours, staying glued to various parts of your face. They hop from ears, to your eyebrows, down to your lips. Christ on a bike, is it getting hot in here? His blue, glowing cerulean eyes appear to flash with something.

"Shite, yer right." Johnny groans. "I hate going down there."

"Suck it up, love. You know how I feel about sharing." Price drops his interest in you like an old toy and takes Johnny close by his waist. You watch with a lead poisoned stare as their noses touch intimately, words you can't hear being exchanged. It's kinda of awkward to just stand there and watch but your brain isn't really functioning well enough to tell you to stop.

"Hey, stud." You blink, refocusing on the pair. Johnny seems to have climbed his partner, his legs on his waist and arms around his neck. Price makes busy opening a portal to hell in your livingroom with one hand, supporting Johnny under his ass with the other. "Sit pretty, yeah? 'll be back before those two arseholes, promise."

"Right... yeah." You nod. "Uh, be safe?"

"Be safe, he says." Price mutters. "Cute." Johnny waves until Price steps through the infernal hole and falls from view. The portal closes right behind him so you'd have no hopes of seeing anything but the red hue of smog and dust.

And here you are. A little dazed, a little sad, probably holding back a break down from the last hour of events. But you're alive and you're healed. There's no blood to clean, you're in comfortable pajamas. Could probably sleep right now if your brain would stop for a minute, but it doesn't look like that's in the plans.

So you look for something to do. Cole and Bess and moved around all your furniture to make the summoning circle. Guess you can start there, right?

[rabesbabe]

Silver Soul

Jackie Taylor x Fem!Reader

part one ➴ part two part three

Summary: You accidentally injure Jackie one day during practice and your relationship with her starts to bloom.

A/N: Jackie is such a cutie and she literally did no wrong the entire series (fight w me idc). But I’m hoping YJ tumblr is still alive idk? Enjoy this fic tho ! (Not proofread)

“Oh my god.”

Your mouth is agape as you watch the ball you kicked hit Jackie Taylor straight in the nose.

The whole team stood and watched in shock as the ball coming from the complete opposite end of the field smacks her straight in the face.

The best way to describe Jackie in your words was perfect. And you weren’t jealous of her or anything. You liked who you were and all but it was just true. Jackie had amazing grades, she was the captain of the soccer team and, from what you knew she came from a good family.

Even though you had been on the same team as her for two years now, you guys never really became anything more than acquaintances. You waved at her in the halls and she did the same but that was kind of it. You guys had different social circles and shared a few classes but never talked in them. She wasn’t anything to you really besides your teammate.

You ran as fast as you could to the other side of the field to help Jackie who was now clutching her nose and wincing in pain.

“Wait, Y/N!” You heard Natalie call out to you. And as you were running you looked back to see what Nat was calling after you about.

When suddenly you ran straight into Jackie and you both fell to the ground.

You grab your head and wince. Jesus did you have to be this clumsy?

Opening your eyes you see Taissa offering you her hand and laughing while Van does the same for Jackie.

As you stand up, you look at Jackie, her face was red from the impact and her eyes looked glossy. You felt like the worst person in the world.

“Shit, Jackie, I’m so sorry.” You say.

She winced again as she looks at you and tries her best to smile through the pain. “It’s totally fine. You didn’t mean to.”

Still feeling like satan himself you offer to take her to the nurse.

“Yeah that’d be great.” She says.

As you and Jackie make your way to the side of the field Nat catches up with you.

“Way to go Y/N,” She says, teasing you.

“Now, is not the time to be an asshole.” You say to her halfway joking.

You and Nat had been best friends since practically the first day of kindergarten. You had caught her outside throwing rocks at kids during recess, and since that was right up your alley, you joined her. Ever since then you guys have been inseparable. And constantly being menaces towards everyone together.

Nat waves you off and walks back to the field. You turn your attention to Jackie and stop her so that you can move her hands from her face. You Inspect her nose and it was most definitely bleeding but, it looked okay. You were shocked at how powerful you could kick.

“It should be fine.” You say smiling a little at Jackie.

She nods not seeming to believe you.

The walk to the nurses office was filled with awkward silence. You had no idea what to say to her. You just kicked her in the face and then basically tackled her. You were shocked she didn’t hate your guts.

As you walk to the door you realize that since it’s after school the nurse isn’t gonna be inside the office.

“Uhm. I kinda forgot that she wasn’t gonna be here.” You say awkwardly to Jackie who somehow, was giving you her award winning smile even though her nose was literally bleeding onto her jersey.

“It’s fine I can just get ice when I get home.” She says, shuffling her feet.

“Or I could get us into the office without a key?” You say smirking.

She looks up at you, her hazel eyes glowing with disapproval. “There’s cameras? Don’t you think they’ll see us.”

“So what? Are they gonna give us detention for stealing an Ice pack?” You laugh, rolling your eyes.

The corner of her mouth turned upwards and she smiles a bit but still looks worried.

“Come on Jackie, live a little.” You look down at the lock and grab a hairpin.

In about 3 minutes you were into the office.

Jackie looks at you her mouth slightly open.

“Wow, you didn’t think I could do it did you?” You look at her with a fake offended face on.

“No I definitely didn’t. But, you did.” She says giggling.

Still feeling very responsible for her obvious pain you say, “Here sit on one of the beds I’ll grab the ice pack.”

Looking around the nurses office you find the freezer and grab some ice. You put it into a plastic bag and wrap a paper towel around it.

“Scooch.” You say and you sit next to her on the nurses bed.

You gently grab her chin and inspect her face noticing that the bleeding stopped.

“Wait.” You say getting an idea. You go into the bathroom get some tissue and wet it with cold water.

When you get back over to her you notice she’s already shifted back into where you were sitting.

You playfully roll your eyes at her. “Cmon, schooch again.”

You sit back down and grab her face again. This time you move closer your faces are only inches away from each other. You gently wipe the blood off her face. Her breathing starts to falter a little and you look her in the eyes. “God, the ball must’ve hit you hard, you can barely breathe from the pain.”

Her cheeks go a light shade of pink that you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t so close to her. “Uhm. Yeah it hit me pretty hard.” She says.

“Sorry again.” You say.

A little out of it from the throbbing coming from her face and her proximity to you at the moment, Jackie bursted out laughing. Very confused since nothing funny happened, you look at her.

“What?” You say starting to laugh a little yourself.

“Nothing,” She says trying to catch her breath. “You’re just like the clumsiest person i’ve ever met.”

“Asshole,” you laugh out.

“I’m the asshole? You’re the one who kicked me.” she exclaims, attempting to stifle her laugh.

You narrow your eyes at her playfully and hand her the ice pack.

“Now you’re back to the beautiful normal Jackie,” You say. “All that blood was not doing you justice.” You joke.

She blushes at your words slightly and you notice but brush it off as her face just being red from earlier.

Getting up from the bed she looks down at her wrist, checking the time. “Practice is probably over now.”

“Yeah. We should go and get changed.”

-⚽️-

After changing and showering you walk with Nat to your car. You guys stop there for a bit and chat.

“Is she coming over here?” You say furrowing your eyes and looking into the distance.

Across the parking lot was Jackie, smiling at you and Nat, in her perfect little outfit.

“You kick a girl in the face one time and now she’s obsessed.” Natalie says smirking while taking a drag from a cigarette.

You elbow Nat in the side at her sarcasm causing her to drop her cig. “Ouch?!” Clutching at her side she looks at you. When Jackie reaches your car she stops right in front of you and Natalie.

“Uh hey Jackie.” You say weerily.

“Hi.” She says, giving you that smile she gave everyone when she wanted something. You had seen it before a million times. And it worked every single time.

“Did you need something?” You ask.

“Yeah actually, I was wondering if you could drive me home?” She Bats her eyelashes at you innocently.

Nat gives you a confused look and you shoot one right back at her. Why was she suddenly talking to you?

You try to think of an excuse to say no. You had a routine after school. You got coffee at your favorite place and studied. Sometimes Nat came along if she wasn’t working. And then after school you’d watch movies or hangout with friends and smoke. Driving Jackie Taylor home was not apart of that routine.

“Doesn’t Shauna take you home? I thought you guys always like hungout after practice or something.”

“It’s totally fine! She’ll survive one day without us hanging out. Plus you owe me after today.” She smiles at you again.

Nat buts in. “Yeah you owe her Y/N, drive the nice girl home.” She says trying to annoy you.

You look over at Nat and give her a look that she immediately understands as “I’m literally going to kill you if you don’t leave right now.” Nat laughs and walks to her car. “I’ll call you later Y/N.” She yells to you before getting in.

You flip her off and yell back, “Please don’t!”

Jackie looks at you again and asks, “So are you gonna drive me or not?”

You just sigh and open the door for her.

She squeals and gets in.

“Oh, by the way I usually stop for coffee so I guess you have to come with me.” You say starting the car up.

“Fine by me.” She says.

You guys pull out of the parking lot and drive for a while in silence. You notice Jackie looking over at you every now and then and you try your best to ignore it.

“So, are you gonna play music?” She asks looking at you expectantly.

“If you want,” You shrug. “There’s a few cassettes in the glove compartment right there.”

She opens the glove compartment and gasps. “The Smashing Pumpkins!”

You look over at her doubtful. “You know them?”

“Duh.” She says rolling her eyes. You laugh and she puts the tape in.

1979 starts playing and she rolls her window down poking her head out.

Finally, you both make it to the coffee shop. You park and walk in.

Jackie looks around seeming to be impressed by the place. “This is really nice,” She says. “You come here everyday?”

You nod. “Yeah basically, I just come here to study for tests and things.”

You get to the register and tell the barista your order and so does Jackie. You go to pay for the coffee when Jackie grabs your hand. “Something wrong?” You say confused.

“My treat!” She says smiling. You step back and let her pay.

While Jackie waited for the coffee you grab a table. She sits down and hands you your coffee. “Thanks for paying by the way.” You say and smile a little at her.

“Anytime!” She says enthusiastically. She was constantly happy it was almost annoying.

You guys study for a while talking about random things. Jackie gets silent for a bit and you look up at her. She looked like she was super deep in thought about something.

“So are you like dating anyone?” She asks avoiding your gaze.

You look up confused as to why she wanted to know but you answered anyway. “Uh no not technically I guess.” You said. You weren’t really lying. You and this girl talked on and off but nothing ever really came of it besides a few kisses at parties every now and then. Your love life was practically nonexistent.

Jackie nodded. “What about you? Aren’t you seeing that dude. I can’t remember his name isn’t it like Jack?”

She chuckles. “Jeff. And no we broke up while ago.”

“Oh,” You say. “That sucks.”

She sips her coffee. “Yeah it’s whatever I don’t really like him anyways,” She looks down. “I don’t know if I ever did to be honest.”

Now you were curious. You look at her and notice she’s doodling on her hands. “What do you mean?” You inquire.

“Well, I don’t know.” She sighs. “It’s nothing.” Her hands start fidgeting with her pen and she breaks eye contact with you.

You were shocked by her mood shift. You’d never seen her look unsure of herself before. The only Jackie you’d ever known was the confident self-assured one.

“Well whatever it is, I’m sure your feelings are valid. Relationships are complicated. And any guy is lucky to have you Jackie.” You smile at her trying to make her feel better.

She looks up at you and smiles. “You’re not so bad yourself Y/N. Any guy is lucky to date you too.”

You almost spit out your coffee at her words. “Guy?” You say laughing.

She looks at you confused until it clicks and she widens her eyes. “Oh! I- Sorry I didn’t know.”

Laughing you say, “I’m surprised you didn’t?”

“Does everyone else know?” She asks baffled.

“Basically. And Im not the only one on the team you know?” You explain taking a sip of your coffee.

“What?!” She says, “Who else?”

You rest your head in your hand as if trying to recall who else. “Well, Van, Taissa, Nats Bi, and so is Lottie.”

She looks at you, her mouth agape. “Am I really this blind?”

You giggle at her “I guess so.”

You both stayed in the coffee shop longer than you normally do. You and Jackie actually got a long very well and it came as a shock to you. You were still a little confused as to why she even was hanging around you but it was refreshing. And you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she was. Her naturally gorgeous hair, which seemed to always look like it was freshly blown out, the curve of her nose, her beautiful big eyes.

That night when you got home Jackie infiltrated your thoughts. You thought about her while eating dinner, while showering and, while you went to bed. You couldn’t get her off your mind and you already knew where this was going. You spent one day with her and now you had a crush on her. Was she really that intoxicating?

[arilevenatz]

Chasing Shadows

Pairing: popular guy!yeosang x chubby!fem!reader

Genre: Angst (?), fluff

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: kinda frat boy yeosang, him and his friends are handsome (yes that's a warning), reader has anxiety, she is also insecure, anxiety attacks, yeo is cheeky, like really cheeky, you might wanna flick him a bit, bestfriend! San and wooyoung, suicide mentioned, lmk if I missed any!!

AN: y'all bear with me this is my first time posting on Tumblr, I'm still figuring out stuff. I had a dream about this and I decided that I'm gonna write a yeo fic. And also please reblog and like, so I can get more motivated!!

Yeosang was a quiet and smart guy in the class. He used to talk only when spoken to. Except his little friend group, well maybe not so little. All the students seem to respect him of some sort. He and his group almost seemed, untouchable. Not like they were the popular group or something. Neither were they hostile. They were just really handsome. The whole group looked like they walked out of a movie set of a kdrama.

You were not new to this. But not particularly known as well. Honestly you didn't care. You stopped caring since high school. The only thing you knew about him was that he was a guy from a group.....and he was good at maths. You were a normal student, yes, maybe you scored the top score in Psychology in your college anyone has ever had, but that's just irrelevant right? In the end, nobody cares.

But you were wrong, he cares. So much so that he came and sat beside you in English class. Not particularly unlikely for someone to sit beside you. You usually didn't even care. But he isn't just somebody. He is the Yeosang. The same guy that all the girls swooned over just cuz he showed his birthmark. What's so impressive about birthmarks anyway? It's just a mark.

At first, you didn't care. But then it started to repeat. Everyday he would come and sit beside you (cause language classes were mandatory everyday) and heck you were not liking the attention you were getting.

"Hey, you should not get close to yeosang or anyone in their group. I heard they are gangsters" "I heard they are no good" "They are in a satanic cult where they sell their souls to the devil to live for eternity!!"

Yeah needless to say people had some crazy rumours about them. You? you didn't care. And also who the fuck would sell their soul to live forever. You'd rather do that to die painlessly, cause life. But for some reason, they seem to keep their distance from the group but admire them from afar. Almost as if they are scared of them.

Anyway people are quick to come to conclusions. But you were not like that. You were annoyed. Like why the fuck you sitting next to me dude go away. But of course you're an unproud introvert. You can't just tell him to leave that's rude. So you did the next best thing. Just sit somewhere else. If he really liked that seat, he could have his nook. You're gonna go and distance yourself. Not cause you are scared of him, but you know just to be careful. (Keep gaslighting yourself queen)

Yeosang walks into the classroom and scans the big room, his eyes narrowing as he doesn't see you in your usual seat. His headphones in he hesitantly approaches the desk where you're now sitting and pulls out the chair beside you, sitting down heavily. You mentally slap your forehead. This really is helping your reputation.

Yeosang looks at you with a raised eyebrow, clearly confused. He glances around the room, noticing the other students staring at you both. After a moment of silence, he turns back to you and notices your ears are red. He asks in a low tone, "What's going on? Why are you sitting somewhere else today?" Wow he's talking to me now

Yeosang gaze stills, and he leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're avoiding me because of what people are saying about me, isn't it?" His voice is deep, but oddly quiet. It was something you've never heard before. And you couldn't pinpoint his emotions.

"Well kinda. But that doesn't mean I actually believe them. I just don't like people." You say thinking you weirded him out and hoping he'll leave you alone assuming you're an antisocial animal.

A flicker of something passes through Yeosang's eyes at your blunt response. He uncrosses his arms and leans forward, his elbows resting on the desk. "I get it. You don't trust easily. Neither do I." He pauses, considering his words carefully. Bro stop talking to me ?!

You don't react to his words and just look at the front. Your whole face feels warm. It's that feeling you get when you're embarrassed. Feeling everyone's eyes on you. You felt anxious, thinking everyone was judging you. You hate this feeling. You felt exposed to everyone. Even though they don't give two shits about you. It's that bubbling feeling inside the pit of your stomach. The heaviness in your chest. That shakiness in your hands and legs. You really felt like it would be nice if the floor split in half and eat you alive.

The class finish and you quickly pack up and leave, avoiding him again. Yeosang watches you rush out the door without a backward glance. His looks at your leaving figure with a thoughtful expression. The next day, he arrives early to claim the seat next to you again, determined to break through your walls.

As the class enters, Yeosang is already seated in your usual spot, his arms crossed and pen spinning in his hand. His presence seems to command the attention of the room, but he pays no mind to the whispers or curious glances directed at him. Instead, his focus is fixed on the doorway, waiting for your arrival. When you finally enter, he notices how you hesitate at the sight of him already occupying your seat. It was then when he looked down and started to scribble something in his notebook. You try to skip the vacant seat beside him and go further behind but he reaches out and grabs your backpack, pulling it onto the empty seat beside him. He continues to write, his pen scratching against the paper in a steady rhythm. After a moment, he glances up and meets your gaze, his expression unreadable. "You're late".

You sit down quietly, take off your glasses and rub your face, ignoring him. Here we go again, I'm tired of this shit.. What does a girl do to have some peace? Witnessing your frustration, a slight smile appears on his lips as he reaches for your glasses. "Hey," he says in a low voice, just audible enough for you to hear. His fingers brush against yours as he takes the glasses from your hand, then deliberately places them back on your face, adjusting them slightly. "Wear them"

The teacher comes in and starts to teach. You sit there, staring blankly at the teacher writing on the board, but your mind is elsewhere. You replay the moment he adjusted your glasses, trying to read into his expression. You begin to imagine that he looked disgusted, that he must think you're hideous without your glasses on. You can't help but feel self-conscious. You catch yourself unconsciously touching your glasses, as if to double-check they're still there. You imagine him whispering to his friends about how ugly you look without them, how he's only sitting next to you as a joke. You felt yourself picking at your finger nails, your legs bouncing up and down continuously with the approaching thoughts.

During a brief moment when the teacher turns away to write on the board, Yeosang leans in closer to you. His voice is low and barely audible, "Stop picking at your nails, it's distracting" He says it bluntly, without any real malice, before returning his attention to the lecture.

"Im sorry" you apologise quietly. Wait why the fuck did I apologise, I did nothing wrong.

Over the next few days, a pattern emerges. Yeosang continues to sit next to you in class, trying to engage in conversation, but you always find a way to shut him down or quickly change the subject. He notices that you avoid him between classes, always taking a different route. You think it's working, driving him away slowly. Maybe he'll realise you really are weird and will leave you alone. But something quite opposite happens.

Yeosang starts to get frustrated with the constant rebuffs. He can't understand why you're so hostile towards him, especially since he's trying to be friendly. One day, as you're walking down the hallway, he blocks your path, forcing you to stop and look at him. "What's your problem?"

"What is your problem?" You say, as he blocks your path with his body. "My problem? You're the one who's been acting like I've got a disease every time I try to talk to you." You open your mouth to say something but he beats you to it. "You're always shutting me down, avoiding me, and picking at those damn nails of yours. It's like you can't stand my presence."

You look down, sighing loudly and look up to him. "Then take the damn sign man, I don't wanna talk to you or engage in any activity that involves you" yeah that'll do, that gotta be the most rude thing you say to anyone, that'll definitely shoo him off. But again, the universe says fuck you and the opposite happens. Yeosang's eyes widen in surprise at your blunt words. For a moment, he stares at you, his expression unreadable. Then, unexpectedly, he bursts into laughter - a deep, genuine sound that echoes through the hallway. This fucker-

"What's so funny?" you ask, clearly embarrassed. Yeosang continues to laugh, his shoulders shaking as he looks you up and down. When he finally composes himself, he wipes tears from his eyes and says, "Damn, I like you even more now. You're fucking hilarious. Alright, fine, I'll take the sign."

He did not take the sign. Yes he did stop directly talking to me, but he won't actually leave me alone. He is still in the shadows. He stopped sitting beside me but went behind me. He stopped walking with me but started following me around.

Yeosang finds your stubborn refusal to engage endearing rather than frustrating. Instead of backing off as you hoped, he shifts tactics. He maintains a subtle presence in your peripheral vision. You catch glimpses of him behind you in class, always watching. At lunch one day, yeosang casually sits at the table next to yours with a group of his friends. He doesn't look at you directly, but you can feel his eyes flicking in your direction

Yeosang's friends chat with him, but he only half-listens, his attention constantly drifting to you. He murmurs something to them, and they glance over at you, exchanging curious looks. His friend, wooyoung asks him "yo man, how's your pursuing that girl going?" Another guy, San, says "I don't know if you can call it pursuing dawg, all he does is follow the girl around the college like a creep." Wooyoung pops a cookie in his mouth and says "Damn man, I didn't know you were like this"

"Shut up about her." His tone is casual, but there's an edge to it - protectiveness almost. He keeps his voice low enough that only they can hear, "She's... different. Fuck, I don't know why, but she's got me twisted up." Wooyoung grins mischievously, "Ah ha! You're falling for her aren't you? You're actually trying to chase a girl who isn't subtly throwing herself at you." He laughs, nudging yeosang's arm. "But that's not really gonna work is it? you need to fucking commit to it"

Yeosang's expression darkens slightly, his eyes narrowing. He takes a swig of his soda before responding, "What do you suggest then, genius? You think I should just walk up to her and...?" He leaves the sentence hanging, waiting for Wooyoung's input. "Yes, you should" San says without missing a beat. San's straightforward approach makes him smirk, but a flash of uncertainty crosses his face. "And what if she..." He pauses, running a hand through his styled hair "... what if she thinks I'm weird?" His eyes shift in your direction for a brief moment before focusing back on his friends. "Bruh, the way you've been acting all these days, she probably already thinks of you like that by now"

Yeosang scoffs, shaking his head disbelievingly. "Fuck, when you put it like that..." He leans back in his chair, crossing his muscular arms over his chest, his silver chain catching the light. "Maybe it's time to switch things up then."

The library is large and quiet, with tall bookshelves filling the room. The shelves are packed with books of all colors. Sunlight shines through colorful windows, making pretty patterns on the floor. A few students sit quietly, reading or studying. It's a peaceful place to think and learn. As you enter the library, the usual silence is interrupted only by the rustling of pages and the occasional whisper. You find a quiet corner to sit down and start reading. After a few minutes, you hear footsteps approaching. You don't pay much attention, assuming it's just another student.

You felt them sit down across from you. Your body tenses slightly as you notice the movement, causing you to glance up from your book. Through your peripheral vision, you catch sight of the person who just sat down across from you - it's him again. It's been weeks since he has been silently following you around, but now he approached you again.

His presence looms oddly, a juxtaposition in this sanctum of silence. He gazes at you, an unreadable expression on his chiseled face, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the cover of a thick tome he's brought with him. "Hey." You answered him silently "hey...." He leans forward slightly, the movement causing the leather of his jacket to creak softly. "Look... I know you probably think I'm being kinda creepy and shit..." He runs a hand through his messy dark hair, looking uncomfortable for once, unlike his usual composed demeanor.

He takes a deep breath, as if gathering his thoughts. "I just... I wanted to talk to you, ya know? You're different from the other girls at school. You're always so... quiet, so focused on your books."

"You're so different, you're the most unique girl I've ever met. You're my type, are you gonna say this? All those lame shit people say in movies? Please stop mocking me" His expression freezes for a moment, caught off guard by your blunt response. Then, to your surprise, he lets out a low, genuine laugh. "Shit, you're right. That was cheesy as hell." He shakes his head, a small smirk playing on his lips. You were listening to him. But something inside you stirred and you felt angry. You remembered all those times those people in middle and high school bullied you. All those times you felt that every time you entered the room, everyone looked at your body and you felt insecure. All those times your family members indirectly forced you to believe that you can only be loved when you lose weight. And you snapped. "stop mocking me. I know people like you. you guys go up to girls like me and say you like them only to say 'April fools' or say 'its a dare' later. I hate guys like you"

His grin fades, his expression turning serious, but his eyes still hold a glint of mischief. "You really think that's what I'm doing?" He tilts his head to the side, studying your face intently. He maintains eye contact, his expression unreadable. He sees the suspicion in your eyes, and it only seems to fuel his mischievous glint. He leans forward, his voice lowering. "Let me ask you something..." He studies your face intently, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "First off... do I look like I have a problem finding girls to talk to?" He gestures to himself, a hint of pride in his tone. "And second..." His voice drops lower as he deliberately maintains eye contact. "Second what?" You shout.

"No shouting in the library student!" The librarian warned you. You sit back down embarrassed and all red.

He laughs a little and says "Second, would I really waste my time pretending to like someone just to play an April Fool's prank?" His words send a shiver down your spine as he pulls back, his eyes never leaving yours. "Or maybe..." He looks at you with a half-smirk, half-serious expression "You're actually quite... interesting. Not many people stand up to me like you do." His eyes crinkle again as he studies your reaction "And hey..." He reaches over and lightly taps your finger. You retreat your hand from his touch. His expression shifts to a playful pout, though his eyes still hold a glint of amusement "Wow, so I'm not even worthy of a tiny hand tap?" You shake your head as a 'No'. He leans back in his chair, studying your defensive posture with interest "You're not scared of me, are you?" He chuckles low in his throat, his gaze never leaving yours even though you fail to keep eye contact, "listen, can I not just like you? I like you. I want to be with you"

"No! people don't simply like girls like me" you felt like crying, but you can't. His expression turns mockingly serious, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, so you're saying you're not likeable? You think I can't like you because you're... what?" He crosses his arms, leaning forward again, his curiosity piqued. You were getting annoyed.

"You know what I am"

"No I don't"

"Fuck. Fine! Im fat and ugly"

His face freezes and for a moment, he looks genuinely shocked. But then, he lets out a harsh laugh. "Fat and ugly? He shakes his head, his gaze raking over your form appraisingly. "You really think that's what I see when I look at you?"

"You don't need to look at me like that, I am like that so fuck off I don't need you laughing at my face."

You stand up harshly, take your bag and walk outside the library. He follows you and grabs your upper arm, not harshly but firmly enough to hold your attention. "Listen carefully..." His voice softens, losing its usual mocking tone. "I'm not some creep who goes around lying to get in girls' pants." You open your mouth to say something but he quickly shuts you off. "You know what I see when I look at you? I see someone who's honest, even if it hurts. I see someone who's strong, even when they feel weak. And I see someone who's fucking beautiful, inside and out."

"Everyone says that but that's actually never true!"

"Then tell me, what do you see when you look in the mirror? Because whoever made you believe these lies about yourself? That person's fucking blind."

"Im not about to start talking to you as if you're my therapist. You let me go"

He loosens the grip but still holds onto your hand. "Alright, But just so we're clear? You're not fat, and you're definitely not ugly. You can tell me why you feel that way"

You wriggle your hand out of his hold and finally look at him. You've had enough.

"Fine, you wanna know? I am chubby, and I'm ok with that, I have no problem being chubby. it's just tiring for me because ppl always make it seem like I'm some disgusting things that doesn't deserve humanity" you take a breath and star again, "And you cannot say anything to me because you wanted this, you wanted me to say all these"

You look down, feeling defeated. It's so weird to word these things to someone, considering you had no one growing up. No siblings, no bestfriends, no close cousins. Even your parents never listened or talked to you about how you felt. You were truly tired. You felt two hands hold your shoulder. You look up, and it's Yeosang.

"People are fucking idiots. And the fact that you're okay with being yourself makes you hotter than anyone who tries to fit into some bullshit beauty standard." His jaw clenches at your words, a hint of something flashing in his eyes. He looked angry.

"Those assholes can keep their narrow-minded opinions. Because someone who stands up for themselves like you just did? Someone who owns their worth instead of begging for validation"

His gaze intensifies, filled with a newfound respect and... something deeper. "That's the kind of person who deserves to be cherished. And anyone who can't see that? They're the ones who are fucking ugly, inside and out."

He sees the unspoken acknowledgment in your eyes, the silent absorption of his words. It's the first time he's seen you listen so intently, without pushing him away or rolling your eyes. He swallows hard, realizing the power of his words on you.

His monologue ended. And it was everything you wanted to hear all these days. The words you wanted your parents to say to you, the words you needed. He said everything. It was the first time in a while you felt like you can actually believe someone. But you were not like this. Circumstances made you so that you push away everyone. And that has become your nature. If I can push them away before they can, I won't be hurt.

"I appreciate your words towards me, but I don't know anything about your confession. I-I don't think so I can accept it"

He nods slowly, a small smile playing on his lips. "I get it. It's a lot to take in, especially coming from a person like me." He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Tell you what - how about I show you my worth?"

You look up at him, bewildered. What does he want. Is he crazy? Has he lost his marbles? Is he that bored? All these questions flood your mind but only one thing slips out of your mouth, "huh?" His smile grows wider, a spark of mischief in his eyes. "You know, prove to you that I'm not just some dumb guy who talks big." He pauses, studying your face. "I'll do something for you. Something that shows you I'm more than just words. I'll court you"

You were speechless. "I-I don't need-"

He puts a finger on your lips to shut you up. "Let me finish," He says, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I'm not doing this to pressure you or anything stupid like that. I just want a chance to show you who I really am, beyond the tough act."

Looking at your eyes, he realised how hurt you were. He exhales slowly, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes that he rarely lets anyone see. "I know I'm not the prince charming type. But maybe that's a good thing. Maybe you deserve someone who fights for you, who understands the real world and all its fucked up beauty."

The next day, as you walk into college, you catch him standing beside the gate. Wearing his signature black attire with silver accessories. As you walked towards the gate, he saw you and he got off the wall and walked towards you. He stops in front of you, his hands in his pockets as he looks down at you with a small smile. "Morning," He says, his voice casual but with an underlying warmth. "I was waiting for you."

"Good morning" you look around and see people look at you for a moment and then look away. It made your face feel hot from embarrassment.

He holds your cheeks and moves your face towards him "don't look at them. ignore them" You both start walking towards the class. As they walk side by side, Yeosang couldn't help but let out a light chuckle, shaking his head slightly. "You know, I never thought I'd be one for this whole 'gentleman' thing. But here I am, walking you to class like some corny love story."

You were quick with your answer, "You wanted this. I'm positive by the end of this week, you won't want to be with me"

His smile fades a bit at your words, a hint of seriousness entering his eyes. "And why's that?" He asks, his voice low and even. "You think you're that hard to handle?" He smirks, but there's an underlying challenge in his gaze. You wait for him, to say further, but he waits for your answer. You look to the side, taking in a breath and say "Yes."

He stops walking abruptly, turning to face you directly. His expression is intense, a blend of amusement and determination. "Well, guess what? I've dealt with thorns, I've tangled with barbs, I've faced off against the sharpest minds and the coldest hearts."

You stare at him for a while and then "damn you really did become philosophical"

He barks out a short, surprised laugh, shaking his head as he starts walking again, this time more aggressively. "Philosophical? Nah, just stating facts." He glances at you sideways, a mischievous glint in his eye. You shake your head and follow him to the class.

Over the next few days, Yeosang continues to act like your doting boyfriend, much to the confusion and entertainment of your classmates. He walks you to class, sits with you at lunch, and even "accidentally" brushes your hands during lessons.

After school one day, he suddenly grabs your hand and starts dragging you towards the nearby ice cream shop. When you resist, he stops and turns to face you with a stubborn expression. "Come on, I'm buying you ice cream. Don't make a scene."

"I don't want ice cream"

He ignores your protests, opening the door to the ice cream shop and practically pushing you inside. "you're getting it anyway, pick a flavour"

Eventually you were forced to have a large ice cream cone with chocolate and Butter scotch, your two favourite flavours.

You both start walking towards your house "I don't like when people spend money on me" He shrugs it off, "Too bad, I spent the money anyway." He says nonchalantly, walking beside you with his hands shoved in his pockets. As you get closer to your house, he pauses and looks at you sideways, "You going to invite me in now?"

He wants to come inside my house now?

"in my house? My mom's in the house"

He looks at the door for a bit, then "how about I talk to my future mom in law beforehand and ask for her daughter's hand in marriage now." and walk right in as you had unlocked the door. You run to stop him but the damage was already done.

Yeosang finds himself standing in a neat, tidy living room. A woman with short, dark hair and piercing eyes is sitting on the couch, reading a book. She looks up as he enters and her gaze locks onto him. For a moment, Yeosang is taken aback by the intensity of her stare.

You trail behind, shocked by the ongoing staring contest between them.

He clears his throat professionally, straightening his posture "Good evening ma'am. I'm Kang Yeosang, your daughter's classmate. I was hoping we could have a word." He maintains a polite, respectful tone despite his usual confident demeanor, feeling the weight of this mother's presence.

The woman closes her book and places it on the coffee table. She stands up slowly, her eyes never leaving Yeosang's face. "You're yeosang" she states, her voice cold and calculated. "Sit down," she instructs, gesturing to the chair across from her. He moves to sit down carefully, maintaining eye contact with her while keeping his body language respectful. His usual charm falters slightly in the face of her stern presence. "I promise, I have the best intentions with your daughter."

Your mom raises an eyebrow skeptically as she leans forward, elbows resting on her knees. "that's for me to decide"

Shit yeosang thinks.

He takes a deep breath, leaning back slightly and offering what he hopes is a disarming smile. "Of course, ma'am. I wouldn't dream of imposing or presuming anything." He glances around the room, noting that there are no family pictures nor unnecessary decor. Noticing the notably stern air and lack of familial photographs surrounding him, yeosang's confidence dips even further. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, suddenly wishing he had practiced this conversation in more depth. "I, uh... I truly care about her, ma'am."

"I understand that but what is it that you want?" Your mother asks him softly but with an underlying aggression.

He takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before speaking. "I mean, ma'am, that I have developed strong feelings for your daughter. I respect and admire her greatly, and I would like the opportunity to pursue a relationship with her, with your blessing and guidance."

Honestly, if you had popcorn, you'd be very entertained. Kinda well if you exclude the part that you might get your ass whooped after he leaves creating a big mess. But you hold your breath.

Your mother's expression remains unreadable, her eyes scrutinizing Yeosang intently. "You're asking for my permission to date my daughter?" She asks flatly, her tone leaving no room for misinterpretation.

he nods "yes ma'am"

She steeples her fingers, tapping her index fingers thoughtfully against her lips. "I see." She sits back in her chair, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Tell me, yeosang, how can I let my daughter be with you, if I don't know anything about your future, family. I don't want her to have a miserable life and for that you need to have a job"

"yes ma'am. That's why I have everything sorted out. Im good ataths and have dreams of persuing higher Education in it. if not I have intrest in becoming a professor. and if that fails as well, I have my father's company. but ofcourse, that is the last option"

Damn that was kinda hot. Wait, brain, wtf?

Your mother nods slowly, seeming to consider his words carefully. "A good education and a solid career path. Those are important things for a man to have." She pauses, her gaze drifting to the door for a moment before snapping back at him. "But tell me, yeosang"

"Are you prepared to handle the pressure and responsibilities that come with being in a relationship with my daughter? she has been severely depressed and suicidal for the past 8 years after her dad lost everything and committed suicide" Her voice is firm, leaving no room for argument.

You felt betrayed, by your own mother. You were shocked, hurt and mostly, sad that she exposed this. You were always reserved about your feelings, shutting them off from everybody. But hearing this made you felt exposed, naked almost

Yeosang's expression softens as he realizes the gravity of your situation. He leans forward earnestly, his eyes filled with sincerity and determination. "Ma'am, I understand completely. I know I'm asking for a big responsibility. But please believe me when I say that I'm ready to stand by your daughter through thick and thin. I have experience dealing with mental health issues, as my own aunt struggled with depression for years. I know it's not an easy path, but I'm committed to supporting and loving her unconditionally."

Your mother studies him intently, her hard exterior cracking slightly to reveal a glimmer of hope and relief in her eyes. "You're a good man, Yeosang. Most boys your age would run away screaming at the thought of dealing with something like this"

He shrugs and says something that made your eyes tear,

"I love her ma'am"

Your mother's expression softens further, a rare smile tugging at her lips. "I can see that you truly care for my daughter. That's the most important thing to me." She pauses, her mind made up. "You have my blessing to date my daughter, Yeosang."

AN: whooo I got this done guys clap in the comments. I hope y'all enjoyed this and if you did, please reblog so I can reach even more people. I love yalllll

[2-dsimp]

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Yandere monster gang

Introducing the Archdevil

===+====+======+==

Synopsis: The Archdevil (Rivius) is trying to make it clear to his dense attendant of how much he wants her. But he ends up having a mental breakdown down due to being blueballed multiple times.

———/—-/—-/—:—:——

Cw: 🔞MDNI🔞, fem reader! Fingering, humping, slight! Pussyjob, pre-ejaculation, slight degradation, praise, slight gaslighting, creampie, slight humiliation, masterbation m!

———/—-/—-/—:—:——

“My dear sweet assistant… Do you have rocks for brains? Or do you truly not understand the predicament that you’re in?”

The Archdevil hissed, holding onto your hips with his claws indenting against the flesh of your body. Bracing his hard tent in between the crease of your asscheeks that bounced upon his crotch with every wrench in the cobblestone rode of hell.

“How can you not notice me having a boner when you’re sitting your delectable ass flush on my lap within this bumpy carriage of a ride?”

His words coated in pure disbelief, his head tossed back in a low whiny voice. His teeth grinding harshly due to the sexual frustration of having an incredibly hot but dense attendant.

Blatantly flaunting your sexy self around him 24/7 with him being unable to take any action except pathetically jerk off in his lonely quarters like a little bitch.

“At this point you must be teasing me! And if that’s not the case then I think me and my dick will cry bloody rivers!”

Rivius huffed, as he flipped up your dress skirt, exposing your panty clad ass to his greedy eyes. While he cursed, fumbling with pulling his slacks down for his erection to bob and wave at the sight of your inviting flesh.

The devil paid no mind to your confused protests, clawed hands jerked off his shaft smearing precum along his length. While his other hand rubbed your pussylips eliciting some wetness to start accumulating against the skin pad of his fingers.

“For Satan’s sake how fucking obvious to I have to be for you to get the hint that I want to love the ever living soul out of you?! You beautiful dumb treasure of a woman”

The hellion ranted aggressively with a peeved expression on his demonic noble features. As he practically fingered you through the thin expanse of your panties dipping a finger or two inside your molten core.

Impatient as he was, he made sure to take his time enjoying the wetness of your cunt sop around his fingers for a few minutes. Before briefly pulling them out in favor for pulling down your underwear for more access.

“Shit, I can’t take this anymore! This is all your fault you know—! The amount of times I’ve suffered from you giving me blueballs is enough to warrant me in getting what I’m rightfully owed!”

Soon enough your underwear disappeared in a flash, only to be replaced with a sharp pointy tip of his dick which glazed your folds in excrements. He’d frantically raw dogged against your wet silt. His arms restricting your movements from how tightly he winded them around your waist and midriff.

And despite his earlier words, being the needy softie he is when it came to you only, Rivius whimpered hushed pleas to sink his aching slimy member inside of you.

“Please, please, please… Let me inside you! I- I’ll even be satisfied with just the tip! My sweet attendant, I truly can’t take being outside you for any longer. Please allow me fill you up”

A couple minutes later he was pussy drunk, as soon as his cock sunk within your heat he was a goner. Spurting ropes of impure spunk within your snatch prematurely as he hunched over your shoulder with teary eyes of overstimulation while he pathetically humped his sensitive dick deeper inside your gooey tight walls. With choked sobs of gratitude and relief leaving his lips from finally getting what he needed.

[l3viat8an]

☻ Obey me characters as TikTok ‘poetic rizz’ comments ☻

I’ve been collecting “rizz” TikTok comments so that I could post this jsjsjsjs (some of them are funny and ik a bunch of them are actually Edgar Allan Poe + others quotes!! but calling them rizz comments is funnier 🤭)

Lucifer

“I would rather have every single bone in my body broken than see you cry, for my body can be repaired, but your heart cannot.”

Mammon

“If I had a grimm for every time I though of you I would be a billionaire and the money I’d give to you.”

“I have 206 bones in my body, but when I see you I have 207!”

Levi

“I’m sorry I dont play call of duty. I only hear the call of your beauty”

Satan

“Without a pen or paper you still manage to draw my attention.”

“Your eyes are like clouds, for even when they fill with sorrow and drown the land, they paint the sky with unimagineable beauty.”

Asmo

“If beauty was the answer to all of my problems, you’d be the solution~”

“If I gave you a rose for everytime you crossed my heart, you would have but one, for you have never left.”

Beel

“Just as the autumn leaves, descend from the trees, I fall for you every season.”

“You must be wearing running shoes, because you have been running trough my mind since we  met.”

Belphie

“Me and the moon talk at night, the moon tells me about the sun and I tell the moon about you.”

“For centuries, humans have used the stars to guide them on their journeys, but everytime I look into your eyes, I get lost.” 

Diavolo

“If you are to be the sun, then I am to be Icarus, a fool fated to fall and burn before I even reach you. Yet even on wings of wax, I would fly to you.”

Solomon

“I don’t love you with my heart nor with my mind, I love you with my soul so even if I die it won’t stop…”

“Even if you had Medusa's curse, I would still look into your eyes. Although I will be turned to stone, I will be gazing at perfection for eternity.”

Barbatos

“They can say they love you, but I say, tell me every terrible thing you've done and let me love you anyway.”

“If I could express how much I love you with that phrase I would only say it once, for my love has come but it never goes so my statement holds true.”

Simeon

“Like a moth to a flame, I shall be eternally mesmerised by your warmth and mere existence, and I’ll give anything to hold you, even if it burns me”

[trashogram]

A Bauble

Satan/f!Reader

Summary: You become the fair judge Satan’s typist. You’ll learn what a lonely job that can be.

Warnings: Possessive Behavior, False Imprisonment, Workplace Sexual Harassment (Taken up to Eleven), Mild DubCon, Penetrative Sex, Size Difference, Temp Play (?)

ఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌ��ఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌ

Whoever had made the decision to forgo introducing you and Satan had made a big mistake, which was made clear by the fact that, as the official stenographer, you were the one literally typing up his uncharacteristic pauses, stutters and stumbles throughout the trial. It was uncomfortably obvious that much of his speech delays correlated with his gaze boring into you as well.

By the end of it the defendant had been quickly disposed of and you were shocked to feel yourself being picked up as you read through a long scroll of “um”, “uh” and “er”s.

“Your Honor!” You clutched the court documents to your chest as Satan held you up to his eyes. The look in those four molten orbs left you feeling flushed and overheated… or perhaps it was being so close to the dragon’s mouth.

“Would you care to join me in my office, Miss?” Satan’s drawl left you blinking rapidly. “I would be much obliged to see what you wrote of these proceedings.”

His smooth countenance defied your initial impression of the Sin, and while you were bewildered at the change, there was no real way you could decline his invitation. You adjusted your spectacles and straightened up in the palm of Satan’s hand, nodding resolutely.

“Of course, Sir.”

ఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌఌ

The memory of your first conversation with Satan was fuzzy. At best, you could recall how his stare continued to shift while you spoke. Those eyes continued to warm you as they softened until you felt like you’d been wrapped up in an electric blanket.

Near the end, when you had run out of things about your prior work experience to say, you felt Satan’s large finger run down your flank. The tender gesture had made you shudder, and you crossed your arms over your chest at the eerie feeling of being exposed and undone.

“My court is lucky to have you.” This coming from the very soul that had been notorious for murdering a good many of his previous court reporters (and jury men, attorneys, defense lawyers, emotional support aides) in his rage made you balk.

“You are indispensable.” Satan continued. “We’ll need to provide you with better provisions to ensure you stay satisfied with your position.”

The dragon’s claw curled around you like a serpent, bumping you forward gently yet dragging your hooves over the ground. You had no choice but to steady yourself with a hand to his muzzle, nails digging into his skin unintentionally as he grumbled.

No, not grumbled. Satan purred.

He pushed you the rest of the way with that giant digit so that your front was pressed against his face entirely. Your eyes shut as hot air from his nostrils blew back your hair, and opened in time to see Satan’s eyelids flutter.

******

Your “better provisions” consisted of a podium modified to tower above everyone else save for Satan himself. You were in his direct line of sight, and the position of the podium had changed to somewhere much closer to the center of the room. It was a confusing change, although that confusion turned into discomfort when you stepped onto the platform to see your basic desk and chair had been replaced with luxuries.

The new, plush furniture that resembled bedding more than an office space did not distract you from the spire fence that had also been installed at the border of your podium.

“The barrier is simply to keep you safe.” Satan said when you questioned it. “We can’t let our treasured reporter fall and break her pretty neck, now can we?”

You swallowed, feeling small beneath the weight of his honey voice and warm blanket gaze and intimate closeness. Satan’s breath followed you, always billowing upon you gently until you smelled like smoke for the rest of the day.

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Kept within the warmth and sanctity of his court, Satan had unraveled you so much that soon you couldn’t remember what it felt like to be cold.

The skies of Hell were accessible by looking through the window outside of your podium. Your temp agency had cut all contact with you. And although the counselor that flitted at Satan’s side had said he would get to the bottom of things, you felt as though he had also left you in the lurch.

Heat left you indolent. You lounged upon your priceless silk pillows more than you typed, hands busy fanning your face and wiping the sweat from your brow than continuing the farce of being a simple journalist.

Satan would open the gate once legal proceedings had ended, and he would take you in hand before adjourning to his private chambers. The breeze to and fro was a welcome relief — from the sweltering courtroom, the dizzying height, Yogirt’s insufferable grin, and Satan’s eyes following your every move.

He chuckled as he opened his hand to find you laid out on your back, exhausted.

“Oh little one.” The Sin brought his arm to his torso, cupping you to his well-defined chest. “The day has been long, hasn’t it?”

Your eyes rolled up to see the great dragon cast an indulgent smile upon you. The smile grew in size when lifted you higher, tickling your bared skin with a soft nudge and quiet snort.

His purr rolled over your muscles until you were numb, and the lick of his tongue on your midriff garnered no reaction. You sighed, resting your eyes again.

Satan jostled you. “Oh I know you’re tired, but there’s something I need to show you.“

“Another provision…?” Your own voice sounded so very far away.

It disappeared within Satan’s quietened laughter, still loud enough to echo around the room.

“You could call it that.” He murmured. “But it's not something I advertise, so you best keep it to yourself.”

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“Fuck —” You gasped, feeling the heat of him sear you inside and out. This swelter was inescapable, no matter if the harbinger himself shrank down to be three heads taller than you instead of three-hundred thousand.

Satan had held you in his arms, crushing you to his well-kept physique of claret and golden scales. You awoke from your overheated daze to feel his body envelop yours and his smirk draped over your slackened mouth.

You felt his tongue slither in, still large enough that you could only suck on it. Satan groaned, igniting a flare up inside your belly. The flare pulsed and fluttered, growing into a roaring flame as the Sin carried you to the nearest plush surface. He laid you down, adjusting you with his tail wound below your behind.

Silk and satin and velvet brushed along your body in Satan’s caresses, his kisses and licks. Your thighs were pulled apart and the flames ate you up until you were screaming. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you were left begging for the Sin’s cock, even when at a glance it stood erect in angry, burning phosphorescent reds and oranges.

You dripped onto the bedspread as your lover turned you over and shoved pillows under your hips to elevate them.

The lordly dragon stretched you beyond your capacity, beyond what you had taken when he had delved into your sopping cunt with his thick fingers. The impale of his cock, felt deep into your womb, filled you too full.

“Oh please! Please move.” You sobbed. “I'll do anything, Your Honor!”

There was an audible snort of smoke as the Sin’s legs flexed and his length eased out of you. You shivered as you were nearly free, then squealed as he arched his hips and speared you again. The beast repeated the move again, before jarring you with a shallower thrust.

His experimental rhythm lasted for less than a minute as Satan found the speed that drew out the loudest and sweetest noises from your lips. What made you clutch his scaly fingers as they tightened around your figure, inching upward to palm at your breasts. You spasmed at the novelty of him being able to cup both of them with just one hand.

Satan draped himself over you, angular head resting over your shoulder while he lifted you up by the chin to look back at him.

“You’re enjoying yourself?” His gravelly tone rolled over your back.

You nodded. “Yes… yes… I-I’m gonna cum.”

Another groan rattled through you, with Satan losing control just enough to shove you into the mattress with his bulk.

“Please, can I cum?” You whined against the sheets. “Please let me cum, Your Honor.”

Satan’s hips smacked against your ass wetly, audibly. His thrusts came faster and harder as he humped into you with wild abandon. “Call me Satan. Call me — ! And I’ll give you everything, little one…”

“Sa-Satan! Can I c-cum?!” The words swirled together, slurred through a deluge of drool and mindless ecstasy. “Can I pl-please cum-m Satan? Plea-se Satan! Satan!”

The climax that savaged your body left you writhing and convulsing, barely able to comprehend Satan’s roar as he followed you into the abyss and glutted you with his white hot seed.