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dingochef · 2 years ago

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Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), Angst with a Happy Ending, Stalking, P in V, oral (female and male receiving), Semi-public sex, light spanking,

Summary: You and Jake geek out at the fly in. Later things get heated and you start to realize you might be in over your head with the feelings you're developing for Jake.

Word Count: 2.6k

Masterlist

Chapter 9

Chapter 10: Vintage

Group Chat: Your favorite hoes

Members: Lydia, Beth

Lydia: How was the date with Bob, just Bob? Any good action?

Beth: It was good.

Beth: Real good.

You: Details!

Beth: Let's just say he has a bit of an oral fixation and he's definitely more of a giver, 😉

Lydia: It all makes sense. Like he knew he had to be really great at eating pussy to make up for some of the initial blandness

Beth: You're so vulgar

Lydia: But you love me for it, 😍

You: Still waters run deep…..like his tongue deep inside you

Beth: Not you too.

Beth: Speaking of the devil, he's calling. Buh-bye

It's Saturday morning and you're pulling together the last few items for your day bag for the air show. You're looking forward to spending the day with Jake and checking out the vintage aircraft. Jake is picking you up here shortly, he mentioned something about having the better car for today and purposely remained vague on details.

I'm looking out the window when you see a turquoise vintage Corvette convertible pull up with the fabric top up. You can't see who is driving as the car stops at the curb in front of your house. A familiar head of blond hair followed by a leather bomber jacket with mission patches unfolds out of the driver's seat. Jake is of course wearing his aviators. He just smiles wide and stretches his arms out presenting the car, he shouts,

"A vintage ride to a vintage air show!" as you walk out to meet him. He runs around the car to greet you with a hug and a kiss and opens the door for you.

"Ooh, vintage manners too," you coo as you get into the car. He shuts your door and walks around the car and climbs into the driver seat. He starts the car and you are off towards Chula Vista where the fly in is being held.

"You know, if you had told me you had a 61 Corvette when we first met, I might have been nicer to you," you say as he pulls on the freeway heading south from San Diego, hand trailing on the dash.

"The lady knows her cars," Jake replies.

"Of course I do, I'm the daughter of an automotive engineer from Michigan. In fact my dad worked for GM."

"And yet you drive a Honda CR-V, the store brand vanilla ice cream of cars." He teases back.

"Yeah, it's definitely utilitarian and I got a good deal on it from a friend who was moving overseas. Besides, I drive way too many miles for my job to have anything like this."

The rest of the drive passes quickly and soon you're pulling into the lot at the general aviation airport hosting the event. Jake and you walk up to the entrance and grab a map,

"So where do we want to go first? Ooh, they have a World War 2 section," you ask scanning the map. Jake hooks his chin on your shoulder to peek at the map. He scans the map and says,

"That sounds good, we'll have to make sure to see the fighters," Jake says pointing at the map from over your shoulder.

"I wouldn't dare miss that, dear," you say to Jake as you kiss his cheek. It comes so naturally to you that the intimacy of the gesture doesn't register till you start walking handing hand towards where the World War II planes are arranged on the tarmac. This has definitely moved past fuck buddies and you try to convince yourself it's just friends with benefits, ignoring the slight panic that flutters up in your gut.

There are dozens of aircraft from World War II lined up on the tarmac. You and Jake find yourself gravitating to the bombers.

“These always intrigued me because of just how many people were in a crew, how many people it took to fly these and hit targets. All of that stuff we can just do with one or two people now," you say as you wander around a B-29.

“I’ve always liked the WWII bombers for the nose art, mostly the pin up girls to be honest. I had a few posters of some of them on your wall in high school. Closest I could get to putting up a bikini model poster without my mom freaking out,” Jake replies.

You laugh at the thought of Jake as horny teenager looking at pin up girls for hormonal inspiration.

“So, you’re saying you like the pin up look.”

“I’d have you on the side of my jet, but I think the Navy’s not going to be into that,” he leans in closer and whispers,

“But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t ravage you the second I saw you all gussied up like that.”

He points up to the classic nose art of a woman astride a bomb, skimpy red dress and heels, and Jessica Rabbit style red hair. You make a mental note for later.

You’ve traversed most of the air show and you finally get to fighter jet row after lunch from a food truck. The way Jake kept catching your eye as you were trying to eat a ridiculously large Italian sausage made you nearly choke on it with laughter.

“You’re going to kill me if you keep that up,” you joke as you bump shoulders with him.

“Whatever do you mean? I just see a woman really enjoying a large girthy sausage,” he replies back with an innocent look.

As you walk through the planes it's apparent whoever curated the show did a great job with lining the aircraft up in chronological order. It’s easy to see the evolution of the planes. Jake stops when we get to a F-14 Tomcat.

“Maverick flew one of these when he was at Top Gun,” he says.

Climbing up the step ladder you check out the cockpit. All the same elements that are in the jets you work on are there, but they're so rudimentary compared to what we equip aircraft with now.

“It’s like looking back at a stone hammer versus buying one at Home Depot,” you say. “There’s actually a few guys I work with who worked on the F-16s around the time this was made by Grunnam.”

“It does give me a tiny, tiny” he pinches his fingers together, “bit more respect for the old man to have shot down as many planes as he has when he had this to work with.”

The afternoon is getting hot so you call it and head back to Jake’s car, the turquoise is easy to spot in the field of cars. As we get closer, Jake looks at you and asks,

“How about I put the top down and we can drive back by the coast?”

“That sounds good,” you quickly find a hair tie out of your purse and pull your hair back to keep it from flying around in the wind as we drive. After navigating through town you finally make it out to the main coast road that will take you back to Coronado Island. The wind noise is so loud you can’t really talk, but you find yourself looking at Jake a lot of the way back and just how beautiful he is especially with the setting sun behind him as we drive. Every once in a while he catches you staring and smiles that panty dropper smile of his.

You see a sign for a scenic turnout and you point it out to Jake. He nods, turning the car into the gravel lot and pulls to the far end of the lot. You get out to stretch our legs and watch the sunset. As you lean against the front of the car Jake wraps his arm around you and you curl into his side as the cool ocean breeze rolls in. The sun slowly sets and Jake turns to kiss you. You stand up between Jake's legs where he is leaning on against the car. He is finally at a height where you can access his lips easily. You reach in his bomber jacket and wrap your arms around his back. He grabs your hips and pulls you in close. The kiss deepens and you can feel that familiar tug low in your belly. Grabbing the lapels of his jacket you pull him in closer. The kissing and sliding of hands over each other's bodies starts to build, the heat between you rising.

Jake stands up to his full height and gently pushes you away and runs to the back of the car and starts to pull the top of the car into place. His plan becomes clear when he sits down in the passenger seat and pats his lap. You're thankful you're wearing a dress. Jake is already hauling his pants and boxers down and stroking his cock. He pulls a condom out of his pocket and rolls it on as he watches you walk up to the open door, lean down and slip your underwear off and climb in. As you straddle his lap Jake closes the door. He reaches in between you and grabs the base of his cock and guides himself into you. You sink down on him as far as you can. He pants out between groans,

"Fuck, El, so good."

Jake reaches up to push the denim jacket you have over your sundress off and slide the straps of your dress and bra down exposing your breasts. His firms hands slide up and palm your tits as he works each nipple with his mouth and rough fingers.

The pleasure of his mouth and hands becomes too much and you start to ride him, desperate to quell the ache between your thighs. Your moans get louder and breathier and Jake pants out a few words,

"God damn, El, ride my cock."

His hands have slipped down your side and are holding the globes of your ass. He pulls your dress over your hips and kneads at the flesh of your ass.

Fucking his head to yours he whispers,

"Such a pretty ass, makes me want to slap and spank it."

He grabs and holds you still against his cock as he squeezes your butt hard.

You clench around him at the thought of his big hands leaving red hand prints on your smooth flesh.

He chuckles, having picked up on your response to his dirty thoughts.

"Oh El, you dirty girl. You want me to slap your ass, make it hurt a little, hurt in a good way?"

You can't control the whine that escapes your throat while you rock into him harder. Taking your response as permission he pulls back his hand and lands a resounding slap on your soft flesh. The sound is deafening in the closed car. You whine in pleasure at the flash of pain.

"You like that?" he asks, in a soft tone.

You duck your head into his neck, a little embarrassed, but oh so turned on. Ignoring the thought of your feminist credentials being tarnished by this, you reply,

"Yes, I do."

He slaps your other cheek, and says,

"Say 'Yes, sir.'"

You pull your head back and look him directly in the eyes and challenge him and gain back a little control,

"I do, Lieutenant."

He raises an eyebrow and pulls his mouth into that smirk right before he slaps both of your cheeks at the same time. The delicious pain ricochets down through your clit causing you to clench hard around him finally breaking his cool facade,

"Fuck, so good.'

You start to lift up and down on Jake's cock at a faster pace while he rubs your ass, keeping it warm and the hint of pain lingering. Your mutual heavy breathing fills the car. Jake moves one hand to place his thumb over your clit and starts slowly rolling circles around your sensitive point. The slowness of his touch is contrast to your frantic pace. His other hand pulls your head down to him and he gives you a filthy kiss as he says,

"You ride me so good, like you were made to do that, El."

"Yes, Lieutenant, your cock is so good. Give it to me, please," you whine in response.

The tension is starting to build in your belly and you keep riding Jake even though your legs are starting to ache and shake with strain.

Jake's hand on your ass is helping lift you each time and to keep your pace going.

His thumb on your clit pushes down harder and he slaps your ass at the same time, breaking that wave of pleasure over you.

"Fuck, fuck, oh my god," you rasp as your release triggers Jake's and he goes slack under you, the tension released.

The air in the car is thick with your deep breaths as you both come down from your highs. You tuck your head into Jake's neck and he wraps his strong arms around you. You and him just exist for a few minutes, still joined.

The casual closeness of the moment startles you, the safety and security, and mostly just how right it feels to be in Jake's arms. It overwhelms you, sending a niggling sense of panic and alarm through you. That familiar wave of vulnerability and fear rolls through you and you push back off Jake's chest, desperate to get rid of these feelings. This is not what you had planned on, developing feelings for him, not for anyone after Liam. Jake's arms are still around your waist, his head leaned back and his eyes closed, he doesn't pick up on your unease.

Your next words are chosen intentionally to break the spell you're under.

"Hey there, did I fuck your brains out there, Lieutenant?" you ask as Jake comes back to reality. His cock twitches inside you as you say Lieutenant. He looks into your eyes with an expression that you can't place, almost hopeful and wistful, and you know that the enormity of the moment has surrounded him also. Your own panic and doubt starts to swell as he pulls your head down for one more deep kiss before you separate hoping to quell this tsunami of emotions brewing in you. You step out of the car and rummage around in your purse to find some tissues to clean up, handing some to Jake as you piece yourselves back together and get back on the road.

The ride back is quiet, the night turned dark. Jake has taken your hand in his and is rubbing his thumb on the back of yours as he drives. As you slow down and roll through the residential streets to get back to your house, he asks,

"Hungry?”

The question startles you from your thoughts, and you fumble for an answer,

“Yes, I was too into the scenery to think about dinner till now.”

He grins back at you full of self satisfaction as you realize the secondary meaning of your statement. You give him an affectionate eye roll in return.

“Want to hit the Hard Deck? You can’t beat the fish tacos,” he asks.

“Works for me,” you reply, happy that they'll be something to redirect your attention and thoughts when you get there.

It doesn’t take long for you to pull into the parking lot and the place is its usual level of busy for an early Saturday night. Jake parks the car and you walk over hand in hand to the entrance when Jake suddenly stops, his shoes crunching on the gravel in response the abruptness of his motion, and says,

“Shit, my squadron is here.”

Worry not my pretties, the next chapter is on deck and will be posted soon (I have no impulse control, lol.)

Chapter 11

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered

@mayhemmanaged

@callmemana

@dempy

@hangmanscoming

@lanie-k

@callsign-viper

@senjoritanana

@djs8891

@atarmychick007

#top gun maverick #hangman fanfiction #hangman x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you #top gun smut #top gun fanfiction

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gaymothrat · 17 days ago

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Picture this:

Dude in his mid twenties, raised under overbearing Christian parents who didnt want him going to college, general contractor, nice bulky build, and a maga dude who was taught to think gay people come from the devil goes to a LGBTQA+ rally in protest.

As he's standing there, arms crossed with his red MAGA hat he locks eyes with an activist who's leaving the rally, a guy around the same age, soft messy blonde hair and equally soft hazel eyes, not necessarily feminine but definitely a twink. There was something when their eyes locked, unlike locking eyes with anyone else, it was particularly memorable for both of them.

About 3 days later, MAGA guy gets a gig, from the very same guy from before, who said he'd like to discuss details over drinks. MAGA guy sees this as an opportunity to convert this guy, and says yes, but the twink just wants be friendly and talk a little buisness. They meet up at a local drink spot, and within 30 minutes they had become immersed in conversation, throwing the buisness to the wind. They relate over plenty of things, struggling in school, having overbearing religious parents, similar interests and such, when the twink asks the question:

"Are you gay?"

MAGA guy hadn't ever thought about it, he was taught his whole life that anything relating to homosexuality would be severely punished by God so he was scared to even think about it or himself, blindly falling into the hate train. The two locked eyes, and had a short moment of silence while one reconsidered their entire life, completely phased out, but he saw the man infront of him, and realized that he wanted that more than he ever wanted any woman. He didn't care if it was a sin, following the rules of his parents and the priests hadn't ever made him happy, and so he said:

"Yes."

About a year and a half later, they lived together, and MAGA guy, with the help of his lover, worked through his childhood trauma, all of the things that pushed him down and made him hate himself and others, he cut off his family and learned to empathize, he was a new person entirely, execpt for one thing; he kept the red hat, but he changed one thing, no longer did he represent the evil MAGA movement, now the hat read,

"FAGA"

(This is my second time ever using this slur, and even if I meant it in the best most supportive reclamation context, it would still hurt me, but i hope this story was fun and atleast formatted ok enough to read and understand)

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skaianbruja · 2 years ago

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Shit Evangelicals Believe

This is a rewrite of a previous post. I am an Exvangelical and grew up with many of the following beliefs. Others I learned about by interacting with other (mostly USAmerican) Exvangelicals

Keep in mind that not every Evangelical believes in the following. Some of these beliefs are US specific and not shared by Evangelicals living in other countries. Others are Fundamentalist specific

The Ancient Hebrews were white

Jesus was a blond haired blue eyed white man

King David was also a blue eyed white man, but there is disagreement as to whether his hair was blond or red

Palestinians and Palestine do not exist

The United States of America is the promised land and (white) USAmerican Evangelicals are God's new chosen people

USAmericanholidays such as 4th of July and Thanksgiving — especially Thanksgiving — are sacred holidays established by God himself and to oppose them is commit blasphemy

Celebrating Halloween or Día de Muertos is Devil Worship

Engaging in media about fictional witches is the same as practicing actual witchcraft and thus Devil Worship

All non-Evangelicals are Devil Worshipers (Yes this includes other Christians, particularly Catholics)

Marian apparitions are demons and the Catholic Church is the Whore of Babylon

Catholics are not Christians and thus must be preached to and converted

The KJV 1611 is the only valid English translation. All other English translations are either corrupted or works of the Devil

The True Church refers to literal institution and all who are not members of this specific institution — including other Evangelicals — will suffer eternal damnation

"It's a sin except when we do it"

The Antichrist will be a West Asian Muslim man

Feel free to add to this if you're an Exvangelical

#exvangelical #american christianity

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coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe · 10 months ago

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[Ghostbusters] Brainwaves: Mini Bios (1984) Nova’s Family (Part 2/2)

Tagging @ariel-seagull-wings @spook-central and @soulman133 Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged from Brainwaves posts. These are just bullet point bios for the main groups of characters, as in the female professors, Ghostbusters and Ghostbuster staff, the C.U.P.S students, Nova’s family and then the others™ (e.g. Dickless, Dana)

Following Characters:

Electra Teufel

Norman Teufel

Thomas Teufel

Otmar Teufel

Remus Teufel

Romulus Teufel-Mann

Long Post so it's under the cut.

General Family:

The Teufel Family are supposedly (Read: Definitely) psychic

Most (if not all) are former Jews who converted to being Wiccan at one point or another

The surname ‘Teufel’ literally translates to 'Devil��

Electra 'Ellie' Teufel:

Face Claim / Actress: Carol Kane

Full Name: Electra Irma Teufel. AKA: Ellie

30 in 1984. Born June 18th 1954 in Brooklyn. Lives in Manhattan

German, Female, Straight, Wiccan, Gemini

Speaks English, German, Polish, Spanish, Chinese, Latin & French

5'2" and 114 lbs, Blue eyes, Blonde hair dyed Ginger, 3 tattoos, ears pierced

Member of C.U.P.S, Is/was in the Parapsychology Course, Psychology Student

Younger sister of Norman and Medusa

Makes money as a fortune teller

Norman 'Manny' Teufel:

Face Claim / Actor: Christopher Lloyd

Full Name: Norman Mercury Teufel. AKA: Nomad, Norm, Manny, Merry

44 in 1984. Born October 22nd 1940 in Brooklyn. Lives in Manhattan

German, Male, Bisexual, Wiccan, Libra

Speaks English, German, Polish, Spanish, Chinese, French and Japanese

6'1" and 172 lbs, Brown eyes and hair, clean shaven / stubble, hairy, 10 tattoos

Member of C.U.P.S, Herbology, Foetology & Mortuary Science Student

Older brother of Medusa & Electra

Gets paid a dollar by Gil and Nova for every class he attends

Thomas 'Tom' Teufel:

Face Claim / Actor: Tony Danza

Full Name: Thomas Jupiter Teufel. AKA: Tom, Tommy, TJ, JT

30 in 1984. Born April 21st 1954 in Brooklyn. Lives in Queens

German, Male, Straight, Wiccan, Taurus

Can only speak English & German

5'9" and 169 lbs, Brown hair and eyes, clean shaven, hairy

Member of C.U.P.S, Criminology & Haematology Student

Younger brother of Otmar and Remus

Usually very distractable and late to classes

Professor Otmar 'Otto' Teufel:

Face Claim / Actor: Robin Williams

Full Name: Otmar Gemini Teufel

Professor / Mr. AKA: Otto

34 in 1984. Born July 21st 1950 in Brooklyn. Lives in Queens

German, Male, Straight, Wiccan, Cancer, Smoker

Speaks English, German, French, Spanish, Latin and Italian

5'6" and 170 lbs, Blue eyes and Brown hair, clean shaven / stubble, hairy

Bachelor's Degree in: Applied Arts, Arts, Dance, Film and Television, Fine Arts & Liberal Arts

Professor of the Arts, likes to have fun with his lessons

Doctor/Professor Remus 'Remi' Teufel, PhD:

Face Claim / Actor: Mandy Patinkin

Full Name: Remus Lambert Teufel

Professor / Doctor / Mr. AKA: Remi, Bert, Bertie

32 in 1984. Born November 30th 1953 in Brooklyn. Lives in Queens

German, Male, Straight, Sagittarius, Smoker

Speaks English, German, Hebrew, Arabic, Norse and Latin

5'11" and 193 lbs, Brown eyes and Black hair, full beard, hairy

Member of C.U.P.S, works with Nova

PhD in Eschatology, Bachelor's Degree in Religious Studies

Romulus 'Roman' Teufel-Mann:

Face Claim / Actor: Tom Hulce

Full Name: Romulus Gunther Teufel-Mann. AKA: Roman, Gunner

20 in 1984. Born December 6th 1964 in The Bronx. Lives In/on Staten Island

White, Male, Straight, Raised Jewish, Wiccan, Sagittarius

Speaks English, German, Hebrew, French and Spanish

5'7" and 180 lbs, Brown eyes and hair, clean shaven / stubble, hairy

Member of C.U.P.S, Mortuary Science, Dipterology & Genetics Student

Friend of Jacob Blumenthal

Born 5 years before his parent's divorce

#ghostbusters #brainwaves #ghostbusters 1984 #ghostbusters oc #electra teufel #norman teufel #thomas teufel #otmar teufel #remus teufel #romulus teufel

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mdccanon · 2 years ago

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The problem with Elizabeth Olsen and not Chris Hemsworth or Chadwick Boseman is the later two are the same race as their characters but Elizabeth Olsen isn’t. It would be like casting a white actress to play Storm and a Latina actress to play Jubilee

Example #18 of Selective Wokeness: People justify the existence of "race" to further their own victim narrative, then don't even know how to apply it to others, because, oh right, "race" is a racist paradigm that has no actual meaning in real life and, oh, also, they don't give a shit about learning about the ethnic diversity of others.

I think that my absolutely favorite part of this entire conversation has been the continued avoidance of any person to name what "race" Romani belong to, but they've got a lot to say about them not being white.

Because you decided you aren't related to your Indo-European cousins, but indigenous Europeans and non-Aryan, Mongolian Europeans are both white because... Fuck understanding the ethnic diversity of Europe... Or Africa and Asia, it seems...

There will be no selective progressivism.

No compartmentalized wokeness.

No limited-time-only empathy.

I asked for a South African Zulu or Xhosa Black Panther cast fancast. I didn't ask if you thought it was necessary.

I asked for a Jewish Moon Knight fancast. I didn't ask if you thought it was necessary.

I asked for a Scandinavian fancast of Loki, Thor, Odin, Heimdall, Valkyrie (omg, black people? Doesn't that break your "cast as the same race" rule?). I didn't ask if you thought it was necessary. (You really think you get to decide that native Scandinavians and Uralic people [who the UN legally protects in the same group as native Americans, South American tribes, and the Ainu of Japan] can't be discriminated against - even though they and Inuits are THE voice of indigenous Artic People's human rights - BECAUSE their gods have been culturally appropriated and whitewashed for centuries? Defending against cultural appropriation has an expiration date?! So it's not an issue when Marvel casts blond, English Chris Hemsworth doing an English accent as their red-headed God? You know redheads, right? That genetic marker "white people" have demonized for centuries, BECAUSE it was hair color of indigenous native Europeans who were worshipping their indigenous native gods for centuries in their indigenous native homelands? And then when those same "white people" converted to Christianity, they just switched to a religious connotation, calling red hair the mark of a Devil. Yeah, that red hair? Tell me MORE about how you don't think we need to respect the history of the people who were burned at the stake or boiled alive slowly so that they'd have enough time before their deaths to turn from their red-headed God and accept Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior.)

I asked for an East African (Somalian, Rwandan, Kenyan, godforbid Ethiopian) Storm fancast. I didn't ask if you thought it was necessary. You think it's wrong for me to fancast Doctor Doom with a Spaniard because you consider an ethnicity made up of Arab, Jewish, Visigoth, and Basque as "white" and "Romani aren't white"...?But Halle Berry, a half-white American who did nothing culturally significant in her performance of her East African Goddess-Queen character ISN'T classist, colorist, and racist negligence because "a Black actor played a Black character."

Also, a Latina COULD play Jubilee because there are millions of Chinese Latinas. AND bringing up Jubilee just shows you can't recognize Southeast Asians when you see them, so you didn't know, nor care, that the X-Men movies casted a Vietnamese girl to play Chinese.

Because you CARE so much about culture of the actor shining through in the characters... As long as it's your ethnicity.

If Marvel is "problematic," it has been problematic since 1964.

You don't get to DECIDE Marvel suddenly became problematic the moment it affected your ethnicity.

I asked for an equally Jewish Scarlet Witch, Quicksilver, and Magneto fancast. I'm sorry that your people are largely Christianity, Islam, or Hindu-based religion. Go find two Jewish Romani actors to play the Twins and stop playing that "we faced unique persecution" violin as if Hitler didn't throw you both into the fire. I didn't ask if you thought it was necessary.

If you feel you are owed more respect from the MCU and the fanbase, do the bare minimum and respect others. Because there will be NO selective progressivism. There will be no compartmentalized wokeness.

#anti elizabeth olsen #anti marvel #anti mcu #mcu critical #mcu criticism #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #wandavision #multiverse of madness #doctor doom #black panther #critical race theory #race thoughts #antisemitism #social justice #wokeness #people of color #actors of color

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x-reader-theater · 4 years ago

Note

Inspired by the @katytheinspiredworkaholic Noir AU mood board, Spencer dating Hotches or Alvezes younger brother in around 20's-40's era when it was still illegal. Hotch or Alvez (who ever you choose) would be some sort of important name in the city so obviously the reader would be too, being from a wealthy family. So it is especially hard for the reader and Spencer to sneak around kissing and stuff when everyone has their eyes on the reader. But one day the reader realises that fuck the others, he is wealthy and so known that no-one dared to mess with him anyway so reader and Spencer would publicly announce their relation ship.

(sorry if its too long of a request)

This got away from me a bit, I'm so sorry. I also made a moodboard because I was so inspired. This was soooooo much fun to write. I love me a good noir AU loll. Edited by @mystic-writes

Moodboard by Me

You laugh lightly as Spencer pushes you into the wall right outside of your bedroom, kissing down your neck and sucking right below your collarbone. You chose to have your top three buttons undone tonight, just for this very purpose. You wanted to entice, without making it known that it was your intention. You got a few ladies coming over to try and talk to you, much to your brother's delight, but you rebuffed every single one of them. They weren't who your heart was truly with.

You moan as you grind your hips against Spencer's and pant out, "We- uh- we should get inside. Before someone sees us."

"Let them," Spencer says, kissing your neck more. "Let them see us. I don't care."

You push Spencer away, holding him at arm's length, before saying, "I do. I care. Do you know what my brother would do if he found out who I shared my bed with?"

You look away from Spencer, who sighs. "Maybe I should go-"

"No, wait," you say, grabbing his wrist. "Please don't. Just, hold me tonight?"

Spencer smiles and kisses you.

–

"Hey! Little brother! Come to watch the show?" your older brother Luke asks you from his usual seat. He's the only one in the club, but that makes sense since the sun hasn't even set yet. You walk over and sit down next to him, and he leans over, whispering, "Isn't she a vision?"

he points to the obviously very beautiful woman on stage, with dark skin and black hair curled beautifully on her head. She's wearing a white rhinestoned dress with spaghetti straps and you think you see her pearly white heels underneath . She looks stunning.

"She's not my type," you say, leaning back and listening to her sing.

Luke hits your arm. "No one is! I swear, if Ma and Pa hadn't raised me to be such a gentleman, I would be kickin' the snot out of you to find out."

You snort when he says he's a gentleman, but cross your arms and ignore it. "I do have a type. You just don't know what it is," you snort, and look over at your brother, who's frowning at you. "You're not her type either." You nod to the woman on stage.

"What do you mean? I'm everybody's type!" Luke exclaims and the woman glares at you.

You snort. "She keeps looking over at Penelope at the bar, making sure she's watching. She's singing a love song, but the only person in the entire place that it's for is your bartender."

Luke's eyes go wide, and you smile and slap him on the shoulder, while the woman finishes her song. You give Penelope a wink as you exit.

–

That night, you walk into the club. No one's singing at the moment, but you met the woman, Tara, back behind the stage in one of the back rooms that had been converted into a dressing room for her. She's going to go on stage later, and you paid her something extra to make the first song a love song.

You were good for it after all.

You haven't been keeping up with the family as much as you used to, but you notice your brother doing deals every now and again, and you have to step in to save him from getting his ass beat.

You take a deep breath and walk into the crowded club, the low jazz coming from the band on stage. You walk over to the bar and order a gin from Emily, who smiles at you and takes it from your fingers before you can grab it. She points at one of the tables where you see Spencer, sitting with a woman, ignoring her flirting. You sigh and thank Emily, before going to the table with your drink, and sitting down on Spencer's other side.

"[Y/N]!" he exclaims, a grateful look in his eyes.

"Spencer! Good to see you," you say, clasping a hand onto his shoulder. You squeeze it and he smiles at you. "Who's your friend here?" You ask, gesturing to her, but you don't stop touching him.

"Uh, this is… uh…" he starts to say, but the woman frowns at him when he doesn't say it.

"I'm Lila. Lila Archer," she says. While you're in Chicago, most folks around here don't have any sort of accent. She however has a southern lilt to her words. She's blonde haired and blue eyed, and she looks incredibly uncomfortable in here, surrounded by both black and white folks. There was also the occasional Hispanic person in here, like your brother, but they are few and far between.

Your brother owns one of the only mixed race clubs in town, only because he was adopted into the family as a young boy. He has the money as a non-white to own and run a business. Helps that his "family" is a majority white as well.

Your grandfather was sent to Chicago from New York to make sure the city knew the Italians still ran the place. But, he likes to pick up a lot of strays.

Doctor Spencer Reid being one of them. No one quite knows what he's a doctor of, but he seems to be a doctor of everything. Medicine, the arts, mathematics, you name it, he probably knows it. It's one of the many reasons you fell in love with him.

"Miss Archer. I've never seen you in here before. Is this your first time visiting my brother's club?" You ask.

She nods stiffly. "That's right. My father wants to buy this place, but he can't seem to put in an offer big enough. Says he wants to rid the city of it's filth and reclaim it for the whites once again."

"Well, Miss Archer, as you can see, there are plenty of whites here tonight," you say, gesturing to the people seated at tables and getting drinks from the bar. "And I'm really hoping you don't share the same… convictions as he does, because otherwise, I might just have to get one of my people to throw you out of here."

You make eye contact with Morgan who's sitting at a nearby table and he nods at you, acknowledging what you want.

"I-" she begins to say, before she deflates. "I wanted to see what was so bad, all the voodoo and evil devil worshiping he says he's seen you folks doin'. But, y'all just seem like good honest people."

You smile at her and stand up. "I'm glad to hear it, Miss Archer. I think you'll find we're a lot more human than everyone makes us out to be." She smiles at you and you turn to Spencer, holding out your hand. "Now, my good doctor, would you do me the pleasure of joining me for a dance? Miss Lewis is about to start her singing, and I heard it's going to be *beautiful*."

Spencer grins and takes your hand. You drag him to the dance floor, where there's already a group of people dancing together, swinging them around their bodies, moving and shaking and laughing.

The music gradually changes, and while it does get slower and softer, it is by no means a slow dancing tune.

You start shaking your hips and kicking your legs and Spencer does the same. He spins you around, almost forcing you to go out and in, and it's perfect. The melody is beautifully sung by Tara, and you smile as your back is pulled to Spencer's chest. He loops his arms around you, and you look up at him, smiling.

He's looking at you with a quizzical look, as if saying, "You sure you want to do this?"

Instead of answering, you kiss him. He opens his mouth and you slide your tongue into his mouth, capturing his mouth in a wet and heated kiss. When you pull away, he has the happiest smile on his face.

You look over at your brother, who has the angriest look on his face, and you raise an eyebrow, silently saying, "Just try to stop me."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid #luke alvez #noir au #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #my writing #my work

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arctimon · 3 years ago

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The Beta Team That Never Was - Fanfiction Corner (BH6 Edition)

So all of this Peni Parker comic talk actually got me thinking about the process of her being included in my fanfiction.

I wish I could tell you it was a long and arduous process, but...

OK, maybe some of it was hard. But when you have a virtually endless supply of Marvel characters that you can use for possible teammates for Big Hero 6, you have to go with your gut.

We all know that the team will be Robbie, Aspen, Peni, Doreen (eventually), and Kate. But there were six other candidates that could have been in the mix as well.

And five of them have their emblems here:

These were made before I actually knew how to make hero emblems properly.

Some of them you might recognize. Some you may not. But we’re going to go through them all, from left to right.

And to start...it’s really hard to draw tiny hearts.

1.) Riri Williams/Ironheart - Ironically enough, it was around the time that Hiro started chasing Sirque around the town in “Portal Enemy” that I started brainstorming her. A teenage genius, stuck as to what to make, sees “Captain Cutie” and the chase on the news and gets brainstorming.

Thus, the Power Armor is born.

And she gets so excited that she bolts off to San Fransokyo to show her idol what she’s created.

And then, as per the Big Hero 6 Fanfiction Clause states...shenanigans ensue.

It was an interesting possibility, but the thought of Ironheart was really late into me doing the backstories of the people that I had chosen, so she was pushed aside. I don’t personally see me revisiting her in the future, but who knows?

2.) Nadia Van Dyne/The Wasp - Back when Karmi had first been pulled out of SFIT, there was a young woman who wanted to recruit her into a special organization. It was one that brought together the greatest female minds in their fields, and Karmi was on said recruitment list.

The organization?

Genius In action Research Labs, or G.I.R.L. for short. And it was led by the Wasp’s daughter, Nadia Pym (later changed to Nadia Van Dyne).

Plot-wise, this was probably the person that I got the farthest with, since the story would’ve been more of a focus on Karmi than anyone else. Also, the idea of writing someone with Bipolar Disorder (which Nadia was confirmed to have in her latest solo run) was intriguing if nothing else.

Unfortunately, it sort of dried up from there. A lack of a central conflict, uncertainty as to how many of the other girls (Taina, Priya, Shay, and Ying) to have, and how to handle her actual powers stopped it cold.

But seriously, how do you write in the ability to shrink to microscopic size? That’s not really a thing, even in a world as futuristic as San Fransokyo.

3.) America Chavez/Ms. America - The mere idea of a Superman-esque Latina teenager was enticing, especially because America, in her relatively short comic history, was with the Ultimates and the West Coast Avengers (meaning there was a possible Kate/Hawkeye angle). Making start-shaped portals was the Silent Sparrow angle, and the all-around badass, headstrong attitude would be the counter to Honey Lemon’s more nurturing personality.

But being from an alternate universe (which has very recently been retconned in the comics in part because she will be appearing in the MCU and Doctor Strange 2), no real villain to play off of, and becoming possibly way too overpowered for the BH6 universe, she was scrapped.

It’s quite a shame. I really like her in the comics that she’s in. Perhaps there will be an opportunity for her somewhere down the line...

4.) Alison Blaire/Dazzler - A pop star with light-based powers?

Or better yet, a struggling artist with acoustikinesis?

Her power to convert sound into light was what originally drew me to her. Something that could be made into a technological ability, unique enough to put a (pardon the pun) spotlight on it.

An actual blonde instead of whatever HL’s hair color is.

Heck, she even has a half-sister named Lois that could have been the antagonist (death tough, destruction waves, and the like).

But she quickly got lost in the fold. Better ideas (like Kate and Doreen) got more of my brainstorming, and she was eventually given up on.

But funnily enough...

It’s almost like she’s already in the show.

(See, for the people who may be new, one of the many Marvel theories that I’ve touched upon is that High Voltage is actually this universe’s version of Dazzler. Juniper is Alison and Barb is...well...Barbara London, Alison’s mom).

Hey, @baymaksu totally agrees with me kinda sort of.

5.) Cindy Moon/Silk - I knew right from the get-go that I wanted a Spider-person on the beta team. I also knew that I didn’t want Peter.

No offense to Peter Parker. He’s fine. But there’s a billion other Spiders out there, and I wanted someone out of the normal vein of Peter, as well as even Miles and Gwen.

And in came Cindy.

Locked away in The Bunker because of her spider powers manifesting, she was eventually released by Peter and thus began her entrance into the main Marvel world.

Her “unique ability” is her improved Spider-Sense, which Peter has said is even better than his own. That, plus her other powers, brought her the closest out of anyone to being a member of the Big Hero 6 Beta Team.

As we all know, however, Peni ended up getting the spot over Cindy (for the family angle with Hiro and the giant robot that she pilots). On the other hand, Cindy would later make her debut in the stinger of the last chapter of Along Came The S.P.I.D.E.R., along with Miles, Anya, and Joey.

Unlike Riri, Nadia, America, and Alison, Cindy and the rest of Peni’s little Spider Society are going to be showing up in future stories. And if I can get everything in order, they will be starring in their own story set in the Big Hero 6 universe.

Finally, I have no emblem for them, but the honorable mention goes to...

6.) Lunella Lafayette/Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur - Yes, there was a point in time where I was seriously considering putting a nine-year-old super genius and a giant red T-rex into my stories.

Ignoring the giant...”red flag” here, the reason why Luna never made it is the same reason why I haven’t put Rishi in anything yet. It’s because I don’t really know what to do with supergeniuses that young. Hiro is at least a teenager and thus has teenager-y problems to fall back on (like puberty and Karmi and all that jazz), but a nine-year-old? That’s a little too extreme for me.

When I was nine, I was busy playing with sticks in my backyard with my brother, not solving unsolvable puzzles from Bruce Banner.

...All that, and the giant dinosaur.

But hey, at least Disney is jumping on the MG/DD train. That’s good to see.

Crossover potential, perhaps?

P.S. - As I was finishing putting this post together, it occurred to me that I may get this possible question in the comments, so I’m going to head it off at the pass.

“You know that all of your possible superheroes are girls, right?”

First of all...sexist.

Second of all...true.

That was about 90% on accident. The actual team (Robbie, Aspen, Peni, Doreen, and Kate) has only one guy on it (two if you count Eli, three if you count Tippy-Toe).

I don’t really have a good explanation for that. I like all superheroes, but I think that the girl and woman superheroes need some spotlight, you know? I could have pulled people like Namor or Miles or the male Hawkeye into the mix, but to be honest, I find the characters I chose more interesting than a lot of the guy characters I was contemplating.

Of course, nothing is stopping any of you from using those characters in your stories. Be my guest, not that you really need my permission or anything.

But you can’t take Aspen. Aspen is mine. (Spoiler: Aspen is not mine.)

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ssson-of-sparda · 4 years ago

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A Trip To The Beach - Part 1 (Dante x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Dante's tab is nearly erased. After Patty finds a letter you wrote to Dante years ago, the girl decides to pay you a visit to know why and how things ended between you and Dante. (Part 4 of A Tab To Erase) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

Tags: Pre DMC3 Dante / Dante is Tony Redgrave / Love / Fluff / Blood and Gore / Minor Character Death / Violence

Author’s note: I've decided to divide "A Trip To The Beach" into two parts because it was way too long. The next part will be the end of this story. Thank you for reading and sorry for keeping you waiting.

MISSION 4

Despite the menacing grey clouds fading the picturesque view before her, there was something adorably charming in the house Patty was looking at that should have made the girl feel rather at ease. And yet, she couldn’t move a muscle. Stress probably. Stress, yes. She thought as she glanced again and again at the letter she was firmly holding in her hands. She repeated the address out loud, checking again for the umpteenth times if she was at the right place and wondering if she should be here. What if Dante learnt about her being here? What if he learnt about her sneaking into his personal stuff? About her stealing this letter in the drawer of his desk? The one Y/N had written him years ago. The questions popped up in her head one by one as quickly as Dante’s devastating bullets and tied her stomach in a knot. She had never been afraid of Dante. Not really. And she wasn’t sure she was afraid of him right now. Maybe she was simply afraid of hurting him.

“This was a silly idea.” She sighed and finally turned around to leave. Maybe if she hurried up she would be able to catch the next train back to Red Grave before the storm and be home early enough to make Dante a strawberry sundae.

The wind suddenly blew hard, so hard it was gusty enough for the pink ribbon in her blond hair to be blown away. Patty gasped and quickly ran after the long piece of silk trying to catch it back. But it somehow landed right in the flowered garden she hadn’t dared step foot in and Patty couldn’t help but see it as a sign of fate. “Can I help you?” A sign of fate she couldn’t ignore now.

Y/N was as pretty as Patty had imagined, maybe even more. And as she kept on observing her, her little turned-up nose purposely plunged in the tea mug so that she would not have to speak (a premiere in her life), she wondered how and why Dante had let her go (She had jumped to this conclusion when she had read the letter she found at Dante’s in which Y/N was asking him to come back to her). “ Would you like another biscuit, Patty?” The blond girl shook her head nervously. “Or a strawberry sundae maybe?” Patty froze and her blue eyes fixed at Y/N in panic. “If you’re friend with Dante I assume you must have them quite often.” There was no bitterness in her voice, just a motherly sweetness tinted with a bit of sadness. “ How?” “ The letter.” She nodded at the envelope sticking out of Patty’s pocket. “How’s Dante?” “ He doesn’t know I am here!” Patty confessed rapidly as if to exonerate Dante of her presence here. “And he doesn’t know about the letter.” “That’s alright. Relax.” Y/N smiled, amused, as she put her mug on the coffee table. “I was just asking. Curiosity.” And care also. “ Oh … Then I guess he’s … Dante.” The young girl finally said after searching for the perfect word to describe her friend. “You know eating pizza and strawberry sundae everyday … and sleeping all day long.” Y/N frowned. That was not the image she had kept from her ex-boyfriend at all. A lazy pizza and sundae lover sure but there was something off in Patty’s description. “Oh and losing at gambling which probably led to why I’m here.” “ What do you mean?” Y/N raised an eyebrow; genuinely curious though amused to know Dante had not improved his gambling skills since the last time they met. “ Let’s say he owed me so much he started selling pieces of his past to pay me back.” The woman laughed. That sounded like Dante for sure. “He started telling me about you because I asked him why he loved strawberry sundaes so much. And then he kept extorting me and used my curiosity at his advantage.” “ How much did he owe you?” “ Six strawberry sundaes. A dozen ice-cream cones. Two dresses and one trip to the beach. He stills owes me a trip to the beach though.” “ Of course he does.” Y/N scoffed as she took a sip of her tea. “ Fortunately I’m a very patient woman.” Patty declared as she started drooling over her homemade raspberry-filled biscuit. “ Well, I guess you have to be when you hang out with somehow like him.” Patty’s eyes darted back at Y/N who was now stirring her tea even though she hadn’t put any sugar or milk in it. A defence mechanism, Patty thought. “ Is that why you two broke up? Because you lost patience?” Patty dared ask even though a part of her had a feeling she shouldn’t. “ No. No. That’s not because of that.” Y/N admitted. “We broke up because Dante couldn’t help being Dante.” “ I always tell him his uncouthness drives women away.” Y/N had a sad smile that Patty immediately noticed. “Sure he lacks manners but that’s not why we ended things. We ended things because … I guessed he cared too much for me.”

A TRIP TO THE BEACH - Part 1

She could remember that day as if it was yesterday, every detail of it. From the moment Dante kissed her good morning to the moment he kissed her goodbye. She could remember his smile, warm and beguiling. She could remember his tears, cold and desperate. She could remember everything about him, everything about her.

She was wearing a red summer dress. Dante’s favourite. He used to say it was because of the colour. “You know how much I love red, baby.” But she knew it was because of the way it hugged her figure so beautifully. He could pretend to be a gentleman but he couldn’t fool her. She could tell he was lying just by the way his hands would grab her curves each time she was near him in that dress.

They had parked the car by the beach. An old red convertible he claimed to be vintage when it was just a piece of junk. If he thought any sort of romance would happen in it, he was clearly wrong.

Don’t tell he already had this awful car! Don’t tell me he still has it!

But Y/N wasn’t sure Dante was in the mood for romance or any sort of distraction. He looked preoccupied, very preoccupied, and she knew him all to well to know that this anxiety – or whatever Dante was feeling right now – was nothing good. After all, one could use many adjectives to describe Dante but anxious and preoccupied, no. He was too carefree and devil-may-care for this.

“Something’s wrong.” Y/N said as she looked up at him, her head on his shoulder. Dante sighed. “Nothing.” “That was not a question.” She clarified and watched him leave her embrace to pick a beer in the cool bag they had especially prepared for their picnic at the beach. “Talk to me.” But he didn’t. “It’s better if you know nothing.” She frowned, not enchanted at all to be left in ignorance. “Better for whom? Me?” He remained silent again and she felt anger starting to grow in her chest. “Answer me, for god’s sake! It’s been days, Tony! Days since you’ve been acting strangely. Days since Enzo came to visit to tell you god knows what.” Dante’s eyes met hers and he could finally see how furious and sad she truly was. “What? Do you really think I can’t put two and two together? Do you think I’m that stupid?” “No.” “Then what’s going on?” Dante opened his mouth but was quickly interrupted by a strange noise coming from Y/N’s purse. It was her pager furiously vibrating and ringing.

Pager? Welcome to the nineties, Patty.

“It’s my parents. -Emergency at the restaurant. Need your help-.” She read and sighed. “I got to go. But this conversation is not over, Tony.” “ I know and I promise I’ll tell you everything. Just … just give me time to make sure …” But he didn’t finish his sentence. And why would he? The last thing he wanted was for her to worry and telling her ‘Just give me time to make sure you’re going to be okay.’ didn’t sound very reassuring, right? “Make sure of what?” “ I love you, Y/N. You know that?” He cupped her soft cheek and caressed her delicate skin with his thumb. She nodded. Of course she knew. He didn’t have to say it. But she hated secrets and right now he was too secretive to her taste. Nevertheless, she indulged his desire for a loving kiss when Dante’s lips came to claim hers. “I love you too.” “ You’re staying at my place tonight?” She nodded. She could never deny him, especially when he was so sweet.

So that’s why you broke up? Because he had secrets? No. Not because he had secrets. Because of something more complicated than that.

The second the bus dropped her off at the stop a few meters away from her parent’s diner, Y/N knew something was wrong. The reddish pink neon sign of the restaurant was not shining like a beacon in the street and inside the lights were all off. Weird for a Friday night. She walked to the door anyway, holding on tightly to her purse, a worried frown creasing her young face that soon became as pale as milk when she noticed that the door was slightly ajar. She should have called the police or even her boyfriend. Surely that would have been the wise decision but when she heard a loud noise coming from the inside, she instinctively rushed in.

It had come from upstairs, from where her parents lived. Y/N climbed the stairs one by one, quickly but cautiously, with a lamp she had picked on a table in her hand to use as a weapon though she wasn’t sure that would be enough to knock out whoever had broken into the place. She could hear her heart beat loudly in her chest, ready to explode, Thump Thump, and her foot creaking the wooden floor more and more with each steps despite all her attempts at remaining silent. Creak Creak. Creak Creak. Splish Splash.

Y/N suddenly stopped and looked at her feet. Her sandals were wet. Water? But the bathroom was too far away and the liquid felt weirdly warm and way too dense. She squatted down and slowly touched the flooded floor with her fingertips. She shivered at the sensation. This felt weird, slightly sticky even. Oil? No. It wasn’t slimy enough to be oil. It was something else. She looked closely, searching for a source of light. Fortunately she didn’t need much to realise that the liquid tinting her skin was dark and … red?

Her eyes widened when she understood she was squatting in a pool of blood. Horrified she tried to get up and run but eventually slipped and squealed when she fell on her butt and the red splashed and drenched her dress and her naked legs.

Her half-eaten biscuit in her hand, her mouth agape, Patty was staring at Y/N, unable to move or to look away. This story was fascinating … scary but fascinating. And Y/N had better storyteller qualities than Dante. He always had the tendency to exaggerate. “What happened next?” Patty demanded with an over-excitement she knew was certainly inappropriate. “Next …” The doorbell rang loudly and Patty jumped and squealed. Her heart skipped a beat and her eyes widened when the bell rang again, this time almost furiously. “I guess we have an impatient visitor.” Needless to say, Patty exactly knew who that was. “Oh no.” “Don’t worry. I’m sure a nice strawberry sundae will calm him down.” Y/N smiled and got up to welcome the person impatiently waiting under the porch.

#devil may cry #dante #dante x reader #dmc fanfiction #devil may cry fanfiction #a tab to erase #patty lowell

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tainted-wine · 4 years ago

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Evil Demonic Music

Priest!Reader X Demon!Present Mic

Hizashi has a large and filling feast on every Halloween night. He’s been doing it since before you were born. Yet here you are crashing his party while smelling like fresh meat in a den of wolves. It’s entirely your fault for throwing off his groove.

Disclaimer: Reader is more reminiscent of an action priest in a gothic action movie or anime. There’s little to no accuracy here. Lightning will most likely strike me the next time I venture outside.

Words: 7.9k

Warnings: Noncon/Dubcon, Christian Themes, Possession/Mind Control, Orgy, Public Sex, Sorta Corruption, Downer Ending

🎃👻🎃HAPPY LATE HALLOWEEN, EVERYONE!🎃👻🎃

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Yuuei Club Presents “Dance With The Devil” Halloween Event LIVE Music by Present Mic Costumes Encouraged // Doors Open at 8 p.m.

It looked innocent enough; a graphical poster on the door of a building surrounded by smaller businesses in the outlet. It masked itself well in the daytime with its plain exterior, devoid of any attractive decorations save for the club’s name that glowed in hypnotizing neon when night falls. All of its temptations were contained inside, dormant until it was filled with careless souls seeking unholy pleasures.

You didn’t hate them for it. The temptation to sin is strong. It’s how evil thrives, and the average person lacks the strength to resist. It’s your duty to protect all people, even the faithless, from evil’s many devices.

Like this nightclub.

Party locations like these were an uncommon feeding ground, although now that you think about it, the muddled and vulnerable minds residing within should make for easy meals. The loud and nonsensical “music” and absolute lack of restraint that the people displayed was baffling, but your task is to guard souls, not convert and guide them back to Heaven’s path. One demon in particular, however, favored ‘party animals’ more than any other creature from the vile depths.

“Easy there! You glare at this place any harder and it might combust!”

To the average human, the monster that appears beside you is nothing more than a tall blonde man with an inviting smile, but he can’t hide himself from the blessed and perceptive. Beneath the guise of spice and incense, he reeks of smoke and brimstone.

Hizashi, as he called himself, will never fool you.

“Stay back,” spit nearly flies from how harshly you say the words. You know that he can’t harm you, not while you wear your cross around your neck and calmly hold thoughts of your Lord in your mind. Still, you warn the dangerous fiend to keep his distance.

He obeys and innocently raises his hands. “Hey hey, you know I’m not out to hurt you, and you’re not gonna pull anything with that crafty little weapon there, right?”

No, you weren’t going to take a stab at him with the blade hidden in your holy necklace. You tried it before, an attempt to drive it into his back when he wasn’t looking. His hand caught your wrist at a speed you couldn’t comprehend – you were certain that you didn’t blink, yet you didn’t even see him move at all. His friendly smile didn’t waver, not a hint of anger visible on his face.

“Careful, baby priest! Don’t mean to sound cocky, but I’m way out of your league.” The warning wasn’t in his words, but in the heat of Hell itself that briefly washed over you, a sensation so powerful and real that you feared you were being dragged down that very instant. But the unseen flames died off the second he released your hand, eyes flashing a bloody red before returning to their usual emerald hues.

That was the first and only time you tried to banish him.

“I don’t trust you, but I’m not stupid,” was your answer, making sure not to let your hatred and disgust cloud your mind. He might take hold of that.

It was a satisfactory response, going by his bright beam of a smile. So friendly and inviting.

Months had passed when you finally accepted that he was a demon who genuinely enjoyed living alongside humans. He never spoke ill of your fellow men and commended them for their many ways of enjoying their short lives. Most demons you’ve dealt with favor negative emotions. Fear, sorrow, anger… those cold and bitter feelings attracted hellbeasts like flies to honey.

But this one? He fed on mortals that were as cheerful and carefree as him. All of this still wasn’t enough to convince you that he is truly gentle, however.

Hizashi stayed where he was, staring at his own promotional poster. The urge to leave was almost overwhelming, but you couldn’t let him know how much he unnerved you with just his presence alone. Instead, you shuffle awkwardly and try not to utter prayers of protection. Whether or not that will anger him is something you don’t want to find out.

He rocks back and forth on his heels. “Are you pumped for the best night of the year? Man, Halloween never gets old for me, especially in this day and age. Everyone dancing while dressed like a bunch of monsters...it’s almost like I’m at home! Humans sure know how to party like tomorrow is The Cleansing.”

“Yes, and it’s shameful,” you humor him. “I have no interest in debauchery.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “It’s called having a good time, babe. Put the tome down and loosen up every once in a while.”

Put down the tome?

Loosen up?

Babe?

How dare he make you even entertain the thought of abandoning your teachings. You just know he’s trying to rile you up, to make you lose control. You won’t let him have his way. “I have my good times in moderation, on days when I praise God with my brothers and sisters with a glass of wine. There is discipline in everything, even celebration. Heathens simply get drunk and lose themselves in the madness.”

The demon chuckled as he ran his fingers through long golden locks. Just the beautiful sheen of his hair could probably attract the greedy. “Yep. Times sure do change, don’t they?”

“They don’t just change, they’re desecrated. What was once a day to ward off evil spirits now does the exact opposite. They’re too busy with their consumerism, candy, haunted houses…”

“Oh yeah, those haunted attractions are wild. So many of my buddies gorge themselves there. Free fear for the taking, ya dig?”

Despicable.

“And you don’t?” You test him. He was a conversationalist; a few probing questions won’t bother him, surely.

He withdraws his phone, scrolling through the screen for something. “Come on, you know me by now, don’t you? That sour stuff isn’t for me.”

“Forgive me for still struggling to trust you.” Sarcasm felt too risky, actually. You won’t use it again.

“Heh, no offense taken! You priests know just how cruel we can be sometimes. Mortals learned from the best, after all.”

Your lips twitch. His curve into a more wicked grin.

Every single passerby can’t seem to resist giving you odd looks. You can feel the eyes behind you as people make their way around the shops. Your garb wasn’t that strange; they’re acting like they’ve never seen a person in a robe and wearing several divine artifacts before. They would too if they knew what Hizashi was, who has yet to garner a single look of suspicion.

Ridiculous, his casual getup is actually fooling them. Perhaps the silly villainous mustache wasn’t big enough to give him away.

“Ah, here it is!” You nearly jumped from his voice and how quickly he leaned in, a video playing on his phone. “Just tap on the screen to play it an-”

“I know how to use a phone,” You hiss, taking the device from his hand and shooting him a glance every few seconds in case he tried something.

The video was chaos, an unsteady view of flashing lights and thumping heavy beats. Whoever held it was smack dab in the middle of an energetic crowd that sang and danced like barbaric animals. It was an orgy of overindulgence. Too much drinking with their comically shaped cups and bottles, too much lust in their crude excuse of a dance, and synthetic drums that dragged on for so damn long, even the beat sounded drunk. It’s not the first time you heard the horrid noise; it unfortunately appears to be popular among the masses.

God help these poor souls.

“Last year’s party.” Hizashi’s words cut through your thoughts. “Pretty hype, huh? Nothing gets my listeners goin’ like a hard trap beat!”

Oh? So he’s fully admitting it now? “So you’re calling it what it is, are you? Trapping them with your satanic melodies?”

The confusion on his face was very convincing, but you knew better. “What? No, that’s what the music is called.”

You couldn’t help but snort. “Please, demon. What do you think sounds more believable: A genre of music with such a simplistic and misleading name, or evil tunes that your kind uses to ensnare unassuming mortals that don’t know any better?”

“....um…”

“I thought so.” To think that he’d slip up so easily. He wasn’t as clever as he thought. “Tell me what happened to the people in this video. Are they alive? Or did you drain them until they were nothing more than lifeless husks?”

There was a snicker behind you. Both you and Hizashi turned around to see a young man holding his phone up with an amused smile, giving a little wave after being noticed. “Sorry,” he didn’t sound sorry at all. “I really like your costume, miss. Your acting is awesome, too.” With that, he put away his phone and whatever images he now has of you and continued on his merry way.

Impertinent juveniles.

“Anyway, they’re all fine,” Hizashi said, eyes returning to the door while tapping his feet to a beat you can’t hear. “I know how to feed without causing any serious harm. Even if I do go a little overboard, they’ll just brush it off as having too much to drink.”

“It doesn’t matter how good you are at controlling yourself. You’re an evil entity invading human minds.” It takes every bit of strength to not flinch when he looks at you. Again, there’s no anger – there’s never anger with him – and it makes you all the more uneasy. Maybe a being as ancient and influential as him doesn’t find a novice exorcisor like you worth getting angry or even annoyed over. “Your stench will remain on those people forever, attracting more of your kind to them unless someone like me finds and cleanses them.”

He shrugs and rubs at the back of his neck. “Come on, your boy is doing his best here. What do you want me to do? Starve?” He considers what he just said for a moment before laughing. “Nevermind, don’t answer that. Look, I ain’t leaving the stage, little priest. I’m addicted. The noise, the energy, the way everyone just loses themselves in all of it.”

The way his tongue peeks out to swipe over his upper lip has every hair on your skin sticking up.

“Man, I wish they knew just how sweet their own essence is when they’re caught up in the lights and music. Sweeter than any candy the kids will be bringing home tonight.”

He compares consuming pieces of a soul to children’s treats. “You’re really not helping your case,” you remark.

Another shrug. “C’mon, you say that like I actually have a chance at winning with you! I won’t hurt anyone in there. You have my word.”

You scoffed. “A demon’s word is-”

“Worthless, I know. See what I mean?” He withdrew a ring of keys out of his pocket. “Welp, I think we’ve stood here and stared at the door long enough. I gotta prep for the big night. Thanks for the company!” A few more seconds pass when he finds the right key and opens the entrance to the club.

You didn’t follow him inside. That would be careless.

Now it’s only you observing the building that will soon hold a giant living feast for the hungry monster. After another passing compliment about your “cool and authentic costume”, you figured you’ve stood around long enough. It was time to head home.

And find a way to keep everyone safe.

He was right; you have no way of getting rid of him yourself. That doesn’t mean you’ll stand by while knowing what danger these people will be walking into when night arrives. You’re not afraid to put your life on the line if it means protecting His children from the many evils on earth. When the first step of your plan takes root in your head, you change routes and make your way to the nearest costume shop.

Hizashi won’t be having his fill tonight.

---------------------------------------------------------------

8:30 p.m.

You weren’t expecting to encounter two demons tonight.

Well, perhaps that term isn’t appropriate. There is no sort of aura attached to the dark-haired man that you can trace back to the pits of Hell, but he is undoubtedly a creature of evil. One that was birthed from the shadows, living for eternity by lurking in darkness and drinking the blood of any unfortunate mortal that catches his eye.

“I knew it. I knew someone so close to Hizashi couldn’t be human.”

The vampire at the lively club’s entrance didn’t seem fazed by your accusation. He wasn’t even hiding himself. The sly bloodsucker knows that his crimson irises and enlarged fangs will be mistaken for prosthetics. Very convincing prosthetics.

“Nice to see you too,” he deadpans.

You’re getting a little tired of these beasts brushing you off. “So what’s your feeding plan here? Waiting to find an innocent maiden who wishes to see the sinful wonders inside, then take her to the back and drain her dry?”

“Like you?” The smirk doesn’t reveal any teeth, but his predatory eyes are enough to make you step back and grip the cross that still hangs around your neck. Your reaction makes him chuckle darkly before he returns to his regular disinterested self. “I already ate.” That monster. “I’m here because Hizashi thought I’d make for good security.”

“So you intend to drink from anyone that steps out of line?”

“No.”

“Lies. Look here, vampire…”

“My name is Shouta.”

“...You and your friend won’t be preying on these naive humans for much longer. He told me about his trap music, but I won’t let his songs bewitch anyone tonight.”

He stared at you, one eyebrow quirked high up. “Alright...can you give me your hand already? There’s a line growing behind you.”

You look over your shoulder, and there is indeed a line of disgruntled people dressed as various monsters and characters. You have to admit that their costumes look to be of higher quality than the angel outfit you hastily bought in the store’s clearance section. The fuzzy headband for your halo was itchy and your flimsy wings were on the verge of falling off with every sudden movement.

With a glare that messaged him not to try anything, you cautiously extended your arm. He took your hand in his – deathly cold – and wrapped a thin paper tag around your wrist. “Have fun.”

You always hate it when you can’t read their smiles.

The suffocating darkness around him was lifted when you made your way to the same doors you were looking at with so much contempt this morning. Glancing back, you saw others happily complimenting his ‘spooky’ appearance, to which he responded with either a quick thanks or a grunt. None of them seemed to notice his chilling aura or ice-cold touch.

Why must they be so blind to the evils that walk beside them everyday?

When you stepped in, the music nearly blasted you back outside. So loud, but not like the angelic choirs during gospel. You didn’t feel lifted, you just felt bombarded by pure noise. A repetitive tempo made the entire building pulse like a heartbeat. This didn’t sound like the music Hizashi supposedly used to put the crowd under a spell. It just repeated the same forsaken beat over and over again. Perhaps the repetition is meant to ease the victim’s mind and lure them in a false sense of security, then those long rolling beats will come in next, ensnaring them when their guard is down. Clever, but not clever enough.

You passed the lounge and bar area, paying no mind to the lecherous behavior around you. Boisterous laughs, alcohol being carelessly chugged…

“Hey there, angel.” A man dressed as a superhero nearly tripped over his own cape in his attempt to approach you. “You as innocent as you look? I can introduce you to the boUUUURP.” The sudden belch burned your poor eyes with the stinging smell of rum.

Lord have mercy on both you and these savages.

“No thank you,” you said through gritted teeth and brushed past him. The lights and colors are disorienting. Strobe lights, spotlights whizzing across the walls and floor, and vibrant ever-changing shapes on every surface. The intoxicated folk probably welcomed the flashing chaos. When you drink at the church, your sips stay modest and controlled, ensuring to never reach the stage of drunkenness. If you were feeling ‘buzzed’, as they would say, this musical and optical discourse would likely feel pleasant, like entering a world devoid of rules and consequences.

Also known as a world of sin.

A huge mass of bouncing bodies covered the dancefloor, and there on an elevated platform, acting as an advanced musical throne, was the evil orchestrator of the chaos.

And those long curved obsidian horns were most definitely real.

Even as he tampered with the many buttons and dials before him, Hizashi moved as wildly as his prey, too caught up in his own infernal electronic hymns to even notice your presence. Surely your chaste energy sticks out among these wrongdoers like a dove in a pit of serpents.

You need to activate your blessing before he eats. Good thing the vampire didn’t bother to inspect your costume for any natural evil repellents that you happened to be carrying.

Your self-made pockets were filled with sage and rosemary, common herbs used to drive away demons and spirits. You sprinkle them onto the floor as you continue to make your way to the center, where your power will work most efficiently. Hopefully their scent will not be overpowered by the sweaty bodies and breaths laced with alcohol of all kinds.

Pushing through the dancing crowd was an arduous task. The music had since switched to something faster and more aggressive. The hectic sounds in this one was making you miss the boring but calmer tunes from before. You never considered what the sound of a robot vomiting would sound like, but it would probably sound similar to the cacophony of ‘whirs’ and ‘wubs’ that were assaulting your ears.

The mass was pushing and tossing you every which way. The variety of masks and makeup beneath the constant moving lights was rather frightening. Of course, you’ve dealt with plenty of real monsters, but it disturbed you to see your fellow man acting in such a frenzied matter in such a perplexing setting. You can see why Hizashi adored this environment. You couldn’t tell the difference between man and beast.

Straightening your halo, you decide that this spot will fare well enough.

Now it was time to apply holy water around your feet. Just a few drops of the blessed fluid will be enough to protect everyone here.

You close your eyes, ignore the many bodies bumping against you, and pray.

O Lord, protect me from temptation.

The water trickles out before you.

O Lord, forgive those who have been led astray.

“WOOOO SHIT! THIS IS MY JAM!”

The nearby exclamation makes your eyebrow twitch.

For we know that your power is greater than any evil.

The song is deafening, but you keep going.

Grant, O Lord, the protection fro-

Someone violently collides into you, knocking the bottle right out of your hands and rolling away to disappear behind the wall of stomping shoes.

Shit! Forgive my language, Father!

You elbow the fools blocking your way, ignoring the occasional “hey” or “watch it” during your desperate search for the most important tool against evil influences.

You didn’t even finish your prayer. You need to at least do that first, before it’s too late. Clapping your hands together, you shut your eyes again and moved your lips rapidly.

OLordprotectmefromtemptationOLordforgivetosewhohavebeenledastrayforweknowthatyourpowerisgreaterthanany-

“HERE COMES THE DROP!”

The rhythm and bass changed drastically, and with it came a powerful wave of raw exhilaration.

It’s like a force was injecting every positive chemical directly into your bloodstream. The abundance of newfound energy needed to be released, just like the tension that was released from that beat drop.

Your hips are swaying in a way you’ve never moved them before, and you can’t make them stop.

Stop! Stop, please! This is his doing!

“How are my listeners doin’ tonight?!”

The demon’s voice booms through the speakers, seeping into your ears and filling you with so much excitement that you can’t help but cheer with everyone else. Your senses feel simultaneously enhanced and dulled. The humans around you were out of focus, but the diabolical DJ up ahead was so clear, it’s like you were right in front of him. The hunger in his currently red eyes struck fear in you even as you danced.

“Woo, I’m lovin’ this energy! Thanks for coming by this Halloween, ya little monsters! Now...bring this house down!”

Your heart accelerates from the rush and you begin to jump in sync with the possessed crowd. Even the people standing by or sitting at the bars couldn’t resist, joining the growing horde on the dancefloor to jump in unison.

It was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. Not a care in the world. No customs, no praise. It didn’t give you that warm feeling of ascension. Instead you just felt...liberated.

No!

Struggling in the demon’s grip, you cleared your thoughts just enough to try to calm yourself and regain control.

Utter a prayer. Hurry. Focus. You need His protection.

‘Baby priest? Is that you?’

That is not the mighty entity you wanted to hear. The voice echoes in your head, impossible to escape. When your eyes open, you see that above the vast sea of faces, Hizashi is staring right at you.

‘I thought the dancefloor smelled a little weird! I was so busy feelin’ the beat that I almost missed you!’ You watched him laugh as he continued to violate your mind. Damn him. Wasn’t possessing you cruel enough? ‘Please, no prayers when I’m about to dig in. That’s gonna leave a bad taste in my mouth. Just keep groovin’ like everyone else!”

Your limbs obeyed without your consent and followed the rhythm. This didn’t even sound like the music you heard in the video. Were you just foolish in thinking that he only used one specific sound to trap his victims?

With another change in the bassline, a heavier weight invaded, reaching right into the depths of your heart and tugging at your very soul. You know that fear will only make you more defenseless, but there was no fighting the terror that overtook you.

Not when a demon was feeding from you.

Your brain clashed with itself. You had to keep fighting, even as he stole a fragment of what your gracious Heavenly Father had gifted you and every human, but the cheerful voices implanted in your mind begged you to stop worrying and just give in already.

There was no stopping your movements or the unending rush that surged as strongly as the music. Only now, as he completely ignored your holy safety measures and tainted your soul as easily as the oblivious heathens surrounding you, did you fully understand just how great the differences in power between him and you were.

‘Whoa...holy shit.’

The breathless moan in your head made you shudder.

‘I haven’t tasted a human as pure as you in ages.’

“Please! You’ve already fed from me!” You scream out loud as the mob revels in the thrilling sensation of having a part of them sucked away. Your voice is drowned out by the music and shouts, yet you know that the horrid fiend can hear you loud and clear. “Just get out of my head!”

The dancing stops.

The music stops.

Everything stops.

It’s relieving to finally let your body rest from the forced celebration. The lights still flash and move in the dead silence. Every single person in all of their costumed glory turns and pins you with a sharp glare. Their eyes were unfocused and glazed over, consciousness elsewhere. Hizashi was in full control of all of them.

The demon himself looked down at you, no longer wearing his usual friendly and carefree smile. He was now showing the more twisted happiness you were used to seeing on his kind.

Crazed and eager to devour.

He spoke into the microphone on his headset, voice low and eerily calm. “Angel, you can’t just give me a sample of a five-star meal and expect me to not want more.”

The dread threatens to make you faint.

“Hey, none of that!” He laughs and switches back to his cheery tone. “I told you the negative emotions aren’t for me. I mean, a lady as sweet as you is gonna taste delicious either way. Why don’t you come on up here?”

You didn’t want to. You wanted to flee from this entire situation that you foolishly believed you were ready for. You thought you could sneak into this age-old creature’s gathering and force him to go hungry for the night.

Cockiness treads horribly close to pride, and pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.

You clearly didn’t have a say in the matter, what with your feet moving forward on their own. Every individual in front of you stepped aside to create a clear path from you to Hizashi’s platform. Their eyes never left, heads slowly turning as they watched you slowly climb the steps with legs that trembled from your resistance.

As he stood tall clad in leather behind the large mixer table, you noticed along with his sturdy horns, he also sported a black pointed tail that lazily swayed behind him. And his stench...the foul smell that would often make you crinkle your nose was replaced with a pleasing fragrance, like a sweet and fruity beverage. It was undoubtedly the work of his spell; everything about him has suddenly become tempting.

At this point you were wishing for the music to return so that you couldn’t hear your thunderous heartbeat as you stopped right in front of him. His hellish eyes observed you from head to toe, holding his chin between his fingers before shaking his head and smirking.

“Ya really couldn’t find a better costume?” He snickered as he got closer and fiddled with your cheaply-made gown. You avoided looking directly into his eyes, afraid of falling into the blood-red depths and never finding your way back out. “Or do you priests work on a budget?” He pauses when he notices the contents in your pockets. “Oh?” A hand is shoved inside and pulls out a handful of herbs.

“Aww gross! Sneakin’ herbs into the joint?” He winces from the smell before tossing them aside, leaving them to scatter into the unmoving group below.

How? His reaction should have been much stronger…

“Not that this stuff really works when I’m vibin’ in my element, but I’m hurt! I thought we had some trust!” He pinches your cheek, knowing that you’re unable to pull away. “And I thought you knew that I was way out of your league. You’re gonna need the big guns if you plan on keeping me away from my food.” The breath blowing into your face is abnormally hot.

There’s a layer of something otherworldly hidden in his tone whenever he emphasizes his words, like a filter poorly attempting to cover up a monster’s true guttural voice.

But once again, he switches back to normal, which does nothing to calm you. “But I’m not gonna get mad at some rookie that doesn’t know better, especially one as tasty as you!” Twirling around, he pushes a few buttons on the table that you didn’t even know where to begin to figure out.

“Sorry about the interruption, listeners!” He says to the crowd, cruelly acting like they have any ability to respond. They continue to stare blankly. “I hope you don’t mind if I switch things up a bit. Your boy is gonna be a little preoccupied during the next few tracks.”

The deafening silence is lifted with the start of a new song, and the people suddenly spring back to life, completely unaware of the mindless state they were in. Their only goal was to keep partying.

Your body was moving again as well, this time bobbing gently to the double and triple beats and low frequencies that vibrate through the floor and up your spine.

This...this was the type of melody you feared, and yet it didn’t affect you any more than the other songs. All of them were traps.

The only way you can think of fighting back is by filling your head with songs of praise. Keep your Lord in your thoughts. He will protect you.

“Tsk...angel, that stuff doesn’t work when I, ya know, already ate a piece of you.” His face tightened from hearing just a few seconds of the holy song in your head. “I told you, ya gotta loosen up a bit. You’re already dancing better than I thought you would!”

He paid no attention to his other prey, instead admiring your simple but energetic movements.

Then he began to move as well, shoulders doing a slow shimmy and following each of your steps with his own, moving closer and closer until he was able to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you in.

He’s warm. Not burning or emitting an aura of terrifying darkness. The music suddenly feels softer, easing your fears. Like an intimate embrace.

“There, it’s not so bad, is it?” He says lowly, lips almost touching your face. “Quit thinking about your big daddy for once.”

You want to protest against the disrespectful nickname for your God, but he predicts your reaction and tightens his hold on your spirit.

“You taste so damn incredible right now, don’t mess it up,” he groans and savors you. With every part of you that is consumed, it becomes harder to resist. It would be so easy to just hold onto him and keep swaying like this, rocking back and forth as his hips press against yours, grinding into you.

The unfamiliar sensation startles you, but Hizashi shuts down your panic with a growl. “Fuck, I can’t believe I’ve forgotten.” he murmurs into your shoulder, breathing deeply to take in your scent. “I’ve been so hooked on the party life that I forgot just how heavenly innocents like you taste. To think that I’d have an actual priest dancing with me, tasting that revelry from such a pure source...pardon my blasphemy, but goddamn.”

You’re swimming through the fiery haze clouding your mind, clawing against it in a desperate search for an opening. But with every beat, the haze thickens and you sink further in.

You couldn’t find the light. No salvation.

More sinful feelings assault you from the friction of his groin against yours, a growing bulge rubbing on your most sacred area. It sends a foreign tingle down there.

“Ooooh, don’t think I can’t feel that, baby” he rasps, holding you so closely in a dance fitting for two lovers. “I can sense everything now that you’ve let me in.”

That angers you enough to find your voice again, just barely. “I didn’t let you in...” You tense from another hard grind. “Foul...beast.”

“Are you sure? You’re giving in pretty easily. It’s nothin’ to feel bad about, I promise. Humans aren’t built to resist life’s basic needs, so I don’t know why the big man in the clouds gets so wound up about it all the time.”

How dare he.

“Damned snake!” You force your hands to beat against him and push him off. “You will not corrupt me with the Devil’s words!”

He’s actually shocked for a moment, even to your own surprise, but he laughs it off. “Geez, my bad! I guess you are pretty persistent. Must be…” He grabs the cross around your neck, ignoring your horrified gasp. “...this.”

With a sharp yank and a pinch at the back of your neck, your one remaining object of holy protection is removed.

And with its loss, his influence completely overpowers you. The clearness of your senses switches on and off.

The music is muffled. It’s too loud.

The roaming lights are blurry. Too bright.

Are you still moving? Or is your body too heavy?

“It stings a bit, but that little thing can’t do much when the wearer’s already under my control.” An unfocused image of the demon tossing your precious necklace over his shoulder, the necklace you’ve held close to you since the day you first stepped into the cathedral and accepted your role as a righteous defender of man.

Your essence is now being stolen so quickly that it makes you shiver. He shouldn’t be taking this much.

“Mmm, I can’t get enough of this,” Teeth that are too sharp brush against your neck, threatening to pierce your skin. “I’m an old guy, ya know. I’ve done a lot of experimenting over the centuries, to see what I’m into.”

There’s a rip, and your gown is being pulled down along with your wings. It only relieves you from the growing heat of your surroundings.

“Y’see, our daddy isn’t a helicopter parent. He brings us into the world and just...lets us decide what to do. So no, my words ain’t the Devil’s words. They’re just mine, honey. I live for myself.”

Tilting your head, he presses his lips against your throat, making your breath hitch. No, your body is sacred. Don’t let him do this to you.

You don’t even know when the music had changed, but you’ve noticed the club was filled with a synthetic ambiance, the colors switching to magenta and cyan.

The party demon is so captivated by you that he doesn’t even acknowledge the change in tune. “I used to stalk the depressed. Wasn’t worth it, they were too bland.” He peppers kisses down to your collarbone. “I tormented scared paranoid folk. Fun, but it loses its flavor fast.”

Your bra is removed to expose your breasts to him and the entire populace within the building. Your heart races, but the synths don’t stop seeping into your ears, the bliss wrestling with your fear.

“Shh, don’t freak out. I’ll make sure everyone forgets everything that happened tonight.” He attempts to reassure you while massaging your newly revealed mounds. “So time went on as I treated my palate to different tastes. Wasn’t long before I realized my favorite vibes were the good ones. Festivals, games, a few buddies hangin’ out,” he lowered himself and flicked your nipple with his tongue. “Or a couple fucking, I ate all of it up. And after a while I decided that I just liked people in general.”

The pleasure felt when your breast is engulfed by the heat of his mouth is shameful. Hizashi moaned at your taste, though you weren’t sure if it was the taste of your flesh or your lust that was exciting him.

“I liked it when humans were having good times, so I figured out how to join in on the fun and damn, how do you guys keep finding new ways to rock out? The prudes keep droning on about how my favorite type of people have lost their way, but I think they’re the ones who found paradise, and they’re not even dead yet!” After nursing on both of your breasts, he rises and grabs your face to turn it toward the crowd. “I mean, just look at how these guys – oh.”

‘Oh’ indeed.

The people were no longer dancing. They were grabbing at each other, at men and women they probably didn’t even know, tearing apart clothes in a vicious urge to fornicate right there on the dancefloor. Some of them were already completely nude. You avert your eyes to stare at your feet instead.

Hizashi cleared his throat. “Whoops. Look what ya made me do, angel. My lust got the best of me!” He held you close while watching the horrid act before him. You’re trying to move your heavy arms to cover your bare body. “No wonder I’m feeling so horny. Think I should make them stop?”

It takes effort to nod your head.

His lip sticks out in an exaggerated pout before going, “Nah. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen an orgy. I bet this is a first for you.”

Something tickles your hips, your eyes wandering over to see the arrow-like point of his tail curling around your white panties, tugging them down.

Part of you already knows that Hizashi is allowing you to struggle for his own amusement. With all of your protection gone, he can easily stop you from swatting at the flexible limb as it brings your final article of clothing down to your ankles.

Wearing nothing but the small strap around your wrist, you want so badly to curl up and hide yourself. You were completely bare on a stage with a demon quietly taking in your form. The contrasting feelings of anxiety and calm threaten to tear your psyche in half.

“Given how anal you guys are about chastity, I think it’s safe to say no one’s ever touched you before?” The way you tense tells him enough. “Alright alright, relax. I’m gonna make this easy for you.”

‘How? By letting me leave?’ You want to say, but your vocal chords aren’t cooperating.

He grinned from ear to ear. “Well, no. I told ya I know everything goin’ on in that head.” He grabs you by the shoulders and places you right in front of his mixer.

There were many suggestive sounds amongst the pile of writhing bodies before you. It was the most depraved sight that you’ve ever witnessed. These people may have been sinners for their immoral pursuits, but they were still victims of a wicked creature’s influence. You wish you could apologize to all of them for failing to protect them.

Slender fingers massaged your shoulders. “Ain’t it beautiful?” He whispers hotly into your ear. “I’m not that crazy about lust, but I can’t resist when it’s coming from someone like you.”

His aura has you shackled on the spot, unable to move or even tear your eyes away from all of the sex. His voice meshes with the increasingly sensual tunes, both him and the music putting you in a deep trance that leaves every nerve in your body extra sensitive.

You’re gently pushed to lean forward until your hands are supporting yourself on the table. The leather of his clothes pressed against your back is irritating, but easily overshadowed by the hands trailing down your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“One of my favorite hobbies was hunting down faithful maidens like you. All demons love doing it, really. You can’t top raw innocence, it’s always a delicacy. It’s the closest most of us will ever get to fucking an actual angel. I managed to fuck an angel, and lemme tell ya, it’s a once in an eternity experience.”

He reaches your mound. There is still fear and an urge to pray, though it’s drowned out by the electronic harmony and all of the hot sex.

“Now she’s a fallen one that hangs out with me. Pretty little devil’s obsessed with sex now. If you’re lucky, maybe she’ll give you a visit in your sleep at midnight.”

His fingers reach your untouched folds, making you gasp. You’ve never felt so much lubrication down there before. Was that normal?

“I was really good at the whole corruption thing, so good that I caught the attention of the big holy boys. They were toughies, gotta hand it to 'em. I decided to lay low after that little showdown. That was all a preeetty long time ago.”

The demon’s voice is background noise as you watch deplorable acts that you didn’t even know existed. One woman was taking a cock into her mouth while another man pounded into her from behind. A new male approached and grabbed her free hand, wrapping her fingers around him and encouraging her to stroke him.

Three men pleasuring themselves with the same woman. They were probably complete strangers.

The repulsive sight makes you wetter.

They sure were having fun.

Hizashi hums at your arousal, sinking a digit into your folds.

“Ah,” you choke on your own voice. His other hand plays with your breast again while you’re being penetrated for the first time. Some sort of flame was growing within you, burning and pleasing at the same time.

“I thought I’ve found my place. Going place to place and bringing in crowds who just want to forget their troubles for a day and groove.”

The finger pushes through your tightly clenched walls, or at least they try to.

“Fuck, relax a bit, babe,” he groans.

You do exactly that, giving him enough leeway to push in and out at a steady pace. You don’t think about the violation, only the strange friction that has no right to feel as good as it does.

“And then you come along,” An unexpected sharp thrust causes his finger to brush against a spot that fills your vision with even more blinding lights. “It’s not like I was after you or anything. You’re a solid negative ten on the threat scale, but ya just wouldn’t leave me alone!” He relentlessly hits the spot again, and again, until you’re crying out and your legs are shaking. “Then you waltz in here and try to ruin my favorite night of the year?

He’s able to hide his anger as he speaks, but fails to keep it from entering his possessed victims. The orgy becomes more violent, all of the people looking no more civil than savages in torn rags as they try to dominate and fuck each other senseless.

It affects you as well, going by how annoyed you’re getting by his rambling. Can’t he just focus on pleasing you?

His finger leaves you too soon, your cunt already missing the brand new sensations. “Sorry, babe,” he says when he releases you and begins to undo his pants. “Normally I’d spend more time warming up, but I gotta join in on the raunchiness now before I go nuts. Just...do me a favor.”

You whined, wiggling your hips and rubbing your ass against his freed cock. He only chuckles at your impatience.

“Slow your roll, I’ll get started as soon as you push that button riiiight there.”

You push one of the many glowing buttons, and stock phrases are shouted out of the speakers.

“No, the one next to it.”

You press it, and another song begins.

Hizashi hums in approval. “I usually do a smooth transition between songs, but…”

A hard impact knocks you forward with the overwhelming feeling of being completely filled all at once. The stretch and pressure has your mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

“....Yeah, I just wanted to do that. And-” He yanks the halo off your head and drops it at your feet. “-I always loved the symbolism in that.”

He wastes no time building up. You’re being pounded as hard and consistently as the energetic beat. It should hurt, but the euphoric state of your mind dulls any pain and discomfort.

With the demon inside both your head and your womanhood, there was no saving yourself. Your prayers wouldn’t even be heard through this thick depraved fog.

“Oh fuck yeah,” He growls loudly with his wild thrusts, hands gripping your hips tightly enough to bruise. “I’ve been missing out. So hooked on the party life that I don’t even remember how it feels to eat up a modest little soul like this.”

Was he still devouring you? You can’t even tell, not while you’re trapped in this melodic dreamworld as his cock rams you.

“Ya mind if we do this again sometime?” He angled himself to ensure he was hitting that sweet spot with each rhythmic pump. Despite his aggression, his hips moved with musical purpose. “Not like you’re much of a priest anymore. You’re fuckin’ a demon, sweetheart. I think the pearly gates have closed for you.”

That sounds sad and all, but God does he feel good. The entire moment was feeling like a hallucination. Your world was saturated with fuzzy images and muffled bass as your virgin pussy was ravaged. The tightened heat in your core was growing hotter by the second.

Hizashi just wouldn’t stop talking even as he became short of breath. “Ah, don’t worry, my doors are always open to misfits!” His rhythm falters a bit when you give him an especially tight squeeze. “Ya like that? I can always wipe your memory of tonight along with everyone else’s, and you can head back home. I just don’t think your next visit to the house of God is gonna end well.”

How does he expect you to care with the way he’s plowing into you?

His arms wrap around you in an embrace. “No pressure, angel. You can decide later. For now, just enjoy the show.”

And finally, he shut up and focused on fucking your divine lights out.

With his pelvis flush against your ass, Hizashi humps with newfound vigor, his thrusts rapid yet precise enough to keep stimulating your most sensitive areas.

The blinding stars in your eyes make it impossible to even make out what’s happening in front of you. A shame, because you want to know if you’re being dicked down as good and hard as the whores on the dancefloor.

The demon may not be talking anymore, but he was still being very vocal about his pleasure with feral moans and growls right into your ear.

An extra hard slam forces you to nearly topple onto the controls, hands scrambling to keep you upright and hitting several buttons in the process.

A series of sounds and distortion effects are added to the song.

It unexpectedly riles him up. “Shit, that wasn’t a bad mix, angel. I might have a junior DJ in the making,” he praises.

The tempo changes - different speed and new layers - and Hizashi follows suit by switching his quick bucks into deep thrusts.

The fire inside was close to doing...something. You weren’t sure what it was or what exactly will happen if this lasts any longer, but part of you knows that it’s about to feel very good.

With the head of his dick striking you nice and deep, you quickly learn that you were right.

The explosion of spasms was too pleasurable to even comprehend, each contraction tearing filthy screams from your throat. Hizashi bursts soon afterwards and fills you up with a cry even more lewd than yours.

Just like that, your mind is freed and the weight of his aura is lifted...and you feel gravely tired.

A coldness sweeps over you and saps every ounce of your strength. You find yourself dropping to your knees and falling over as a distant voice expresses genuine worry.

“Oh.......I overfed.” Though it doesn’t sound as panicked as it should.

You don’t want to close your eyes. You fear that something terrible might happen if you do, but your eyelids are quickly becoming too heavy to fight.

“Really sorry, little priest! I didn’t mean to! Look at the bright side - my friends are gonna love ya down there! Home isn’t half as bad as those books make it out to be!”

Each word sounds fainter than the last, but you still catch each one.

Home?

Your eyes shut.

And the remains of your soul become stained with ash and black before heading downwards into the demonic realm.

Welcome home.

#smut #present mic #yamada hizashi #present mic x reader #broke: EDM is soulless #woke: EDM steals souls #tw noncon #tw death #tw mind control

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surveyhoursss · 4 years ago

Text

97.

For people that hate stereotypes: If you think people should just shut up and stop, put this on your profile. (BOLD the ones you are.)

Italics=partially me or used to be in the past.

I'm SKINNY, so I MUST be anorexic. (I quite literally am anorexic tho)

I'm EMO, so I MUST cut my wrists.

I'm a NEGRO so I MUST carry a gun.

I'm BLONDE, so I MUST be a ditz

I'm JAMAICAN so I MUST smoke weed.

I'm HAITIAN so I MUST eat cat.

I'm JEWISH, so I MUST be greedy.

I'm GAY, so I MUST have AIDS.

I'm a LESBIAN, so I MUST have a sex-tape.

I'm ARAB, so I MUST be a terrorist.

I SPEAK MY MIND, so I MUST be a bitch.

I'm a GAY RIGHTS SUPPORTER, so I WILL go to hell.

I'm a CHRISTAN, so I MUST think gay people should go to hell.

I'm RELIGIOUS, so I MUST shove my beliefs down your throat.

I'm ATHEIST so I MUST hate the world.

I don't have a RELIGION, so I MUST be evil and have no morals

I am LIBERAL, so I MUST be gay. (oop)

I TAKE (or used to take) ANTI-DEPRESSANTS, so I MUST be crazy.

I'm a GUY, so I MUST only want to get into your pants.

I'm IRISH, so I MUST have a bad drinking problem.

I'm INDIAN, so I MUST own a convenient store.

I'm NATIVE AMERICAN, so I MUST dance around a fire screaming like a savage.

I'm a CHEERLEADER, so I MUST be a whore...

I'm a DANCER, So I must be stupid, stuck up, and a whore

I wear SKIRTS a lot, so I MUST be a slut.

I'm a PUNK, so I MUST do drugs.

I'm RICH, so I MUST be a conceited snob.

I WEAR BLACK, so I MUST be a goth or emo.

I'm a WHITE GIRL, so I MUST be a nagging, steal-your-money kind of girlfriend.

I'm CUBAN, so I MUST spend my spare time rolling cigars.

I'm NOT A VIRGIN, so I MUST be easy.

I FELL IN LOVE WITH A MARRIED MAN, so I MUST be a home-wrecking whore.

I'm a TEENAGE MOM, so I MUST be an irresponsible slut.

I'm POLISH, so I MUST wear my socks with my sandals.

I'm ITALIAN, so I must have a "big one".

I'm EGYPTIAN, so I must be a TERRORIST!

I'm PRETTY, so I MUST not be a virgin.

I HAVE STRAIGHT A'S, so I MUST have no social life.

I DYE MY HAIR CRAZY COLORS, so I MUST be looking for attention.

I DRESS IN UNUSUAL WAYS so I MUST be looking for attention.

I'm INTO THEATER & ART, so I MUST be a homosexual.

I'm a VEGETARIAN, so I MUST be a crazy political activist.

I HAVE A BUNCH OF GUY FRIENDS, so I MUST be fucking them all.

I HAVE A BUNCH OF GIRLS WHO ARE FRIENDS, so I MUST be a player.

I have Big BOOBS, so I MUST be a hoe.

I'm COLOMBIAN, so I MUST be a drug dealer.

I WEAR WHAT I WANT, so I MUST be a poser.

I'm RUSSIAN, so I MUST be cool and thats how Russians roll.

I'm GERMAN, so I must be a Nazi.

I hang out with GAYS, so i must be GAY TOO (again, oop)

I'm BRAZILIAN, so I MUST have a BIG BUTT.

I'm PUERTO RICAN, so I MUST look good and be conceited

I'm SALVADORIAN, so I MUST be in MS 13

I'm POLISH, so I MUST be greedy.

I'm HAWAIIAN so I MUST be lazy

I'm PERUVIAN, so I MUST like llamas

I'm a STONER so I MUST be going in the wrong direction

I'm a VIRGIN so I MUST be prude.

I'm STRAIGHT EDGE so I must be violent.

I'm a FEMALE GAMER, so I MUST be ugly... or crazy.

I'm BLACK so I MUST love fried chicken and kool-aid.

I'm a GIRL who actually EATS LUNCH, so I MUST be fat.

I'm SINGLE so I MUST be ugly.

I'm a SKATER so I must do weed and steal stuff

I'm a PUNK so I must only wear black and date only other punks

I'm ASIAN so I must be a NERD that does HOMEWORK 24/7

I'm CHRISTIAN so I MUST hate homosexuals.

I'm MIXED so I must be screwed up.

I'm MUSLIM so I MUST be a terrorist.

I'm in BAND, so I MUST be a dork.

I'm BLACK so I MUST believe JESUS WUZ A BROTHA

I'm MORMON so I MUST be perfect

I'm WHITE and have black friends so I MUST think I'm black

I'm GOTH so I MUST worship the devil

I'm HISPANIC, so I MUST be dirty.

I'm NOT LIKE EVERYONE ELSE, so I MUST be a loser.

I'm OVERWEIGHT, so I MUST have a problem with self control.

I'm PREPPY, so I MUST shun those who don't wear Abercrombie & Hollister.

I'm on a DANCE team, so I must be stupid, stuck up, and a whore.

I'm YOUNG, so I MUST be naive.

I'm RICH, so I MUST be a conceited snob.

I'm MEXICAN, so I MUST have hopped the border.

I GOT A CAR FOR MY BIRTHDAY, so I MUST be a spoiled brat.

I'm BLACK, so I MUST love watermelon

I'm BI, so I MUST think every person I see is hot.

I don't like the SUN so I MUST be an albino.

I couldn't hurt a FLY, So I MUST be a pussy.

I support GAY RIGHTS, so I MUST fit in with everyone.

I have a DIFFERENT sense of HUMOR, so I MUST be crazy.

I tell people OFF, so I MUST be an over controlling bitch.

My hair gets GREASY a lot, so I MUST have no hygiene skills.

I'm DEFENSIVE, so I MUST be over controlling and a bitch.

I'm a NUDIST, so I MUST want everyone to see my boobs.

I read COMICS, so I MUST be a loser.

I hang out with a FORMER PROSTITUTE... So I MUST be a whore myself.

I'm TEXAN so I MUST ride a horse

I'm a GOTH, so I MUST be a Satanist

I'm a CROSSDRESSER, so I must be homosexual.

I draw ANIME so I MUST be a freak.

I am a FANGIRL so I MUST be a crazy, obsessed stalker.

I WATCH PORN so I MUST be perverted.

I'm an ONLY CHILD so I MUST be spoiled.

I'm INTELLIGENT so I MUST be weak.

I am AMERICAN so I MUST be obese, loud-mouthed and arrogant.

I'm WELSH so I MUST love sheep

I'm a YOUNG WRITER, so I MUST be emo.

I'm CANADIAN, so I MUST talk with a funny accent.

I'm a GUY, so I MUST ditch my pregnant girlfriend.

I'm CANADIAN, so I MUST love hockey and beavers.

I'm DISABLED, so I MUST be on Welfare.

I'm a FEMINIST, so I MUST have a problem with sexuality and I want to castrate every man on the earth.

I'm a TEENAGER, so I MUST have a STEREOTYPE.

I WEAR A BIG SUNHAT when I go outside, so I MUST be stupid.

I like BLOOD, so I must be a VAMPIRE.

I'm an ALBINO, so I MUST be an evil person with mental abilities and is A MURDERER!

I'm ENGLISH, so I MUST speak with either a cockney or a posh accent, love tea and cricket, and have bad teeth.

I'm WHITE, so I MUST be responsible for everything going wrong on the planet: past, present, and future.

I don't like YAOI or YURI, so I must be a HOMOPHOBE

I'm not the most POPULAR person in school, so I MUST be a loser.

I care about the ENVIRONMENT...I MUST be a tree hugging hippy.

I have a FAN CHARACTER, so I MUST be an annoying Mary-sue.

I CHAT, I MUST be having cyber sex.

I'm PAGAN so I MUST sacrifice babies and drink the blood of virgins

I'm PAGAN so I MUST worship Satan

I'm CONSERVATIVE, so I MUST be against abortion.

I'm SWEDISH so I MUST be a tall blond blue-eyed lesbian.

I'm a LESBIAN so I MUST want to get with every single girl that I see.

I like CARTOONS, so I MUST be IRRESPONSIBLE.

I like READING, so I MUST be a LONER.

I have my OWN spiritual ideology; therefore I MUST be WRONG or MISGUIDED.

I am WICCAN, so I MUST be a SATANIST.

I DISAGREE with my government, so I MUST be a TERRORIST.

I am a WITCH, so I MUST be and OLD HAG and fly on a broomstick.

I love YAOI, so I MUST be GAY.

I'm a PERSON, so I MUST be LABELED

I DON'T CURSE, so I MUST be an outcast.

I like GAMES, ANIME and COMICS, so I MUST be childish.

I'm SWEDISH, therefore I MUST be WHITE. (i mean, 3rd generation immigrant)

I SPOT GRAMMATICAL ERRORS, so I MUST be a pedantic bastard.

I'm GOTHIC, so I MUST be mean.

I'm STRONG so I MUST be stupid.

I'm AUSTRALIAN so I MUST hunt crocodiles and talk to kangaroos.

I go to RENFAIRES, so I MUST talk weird, be a loser, and not be up with the times

I'm GAY so I'm after EVERY straight guy around.

I don't want a BOYFRIEND so I MUST be lesbian.

I'm NOT CHRISTIAN so I MUST just need converting.

I love MARCHING BAND, so I MUST be a friendless freak.

I DRINK and SMOKE, so I MUST have no life.

I am friends with a CUTTER, so I MUST be a CUTTER too. (oop)

I CRY easily, so I MUST be a wimp.

I can't help pointing out mistakes so I MUST be an over-controlling perfectionist.

I'm a PERFECTIONIST so I MUST check everything ten times, them burst into tears at one mistake.

I DON'T LIKE to talk about my personal life so I MUST be having problems

I'm SCOTTISH so I MUST play the bagpipes and eat haggis.

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hecohansen31 · 5 years ago

Text

Door-To-Door

(A/N): Happy Birthday, Ari ( @blakewaterxx )

I hope you’ll like this fics, as it is a small token of my affection for you, since you have always bene there for me, since the start and I hope to see you more on my side, once you get in ‘Vikings’.

In the meanwhile I went back to the old fandom, in a desperate try to make our fantasy of ‘Avon Presenter! Michael Langdon’ come true, since it is beyon the best AU, we have come up with!

Have a lovely day and eat a lot of cakes!

WARNINGS: Mention of Sex, Sleazy! Costumer, Mention of Satanism.

You weren’t one to let door-to-door vendors in your house.

But there was just something about this one that you couldn’t deny had pricked at your own curiosity, making you invite him inside, to explain to you the importance of Avon products and the advantages of a special membership with the big corporation.

But for the entire discourse you had been solely interested in the beauty in front of your eyes: blonde with the perfect conditioner for hair that seemed as soft as the silkiest of woolen, meanwhile he dressed impeccably in black and red, a bold move but that paid off well.

The entire assemble matched with bright blue eyes and a smirk on his face that seemed truly devilish.

And he seemed to almost know what was going through your mind as he stopped midsentence to assure himself you were listening to him, as he got out different products from his bag eventually settling himself on a few that were his own personal ‘must-have’.

‘They might be expensive and not as famous as the big brands’ one, but none of our clients have been left unsatisfied’ the way he finished the phrase biting lightly on his plump lips, almost feminine in their shape and form, made you

And the he pronounced the ‘unsatisfied’ part seemingly speaking of experience, eating the words, as he ate your entire body with a quick look of his eyes, examining it fully as if you were his own product to be publicized and valorized.

“So, what do you think?”.

You were taken aback from that question and couldn’t help but suddenly realize that you had been staring at him solely, light drool coming from your mouth, which you washed away, completely ashamed that you had acted so thirstily in front of a man like that.

A man who looked like he could have certainly made up for the ache between your thighs.

“… I… honestly will have to think about it” you tried to take some time, because you didn’t know how to react, not having certainly heard a single world of his discourse “… although they all seem like promising products, I don’t think that I need them”.

“But you have to have them” his silver tongue caressed your ears “… they are the latest obsession of multiple celebrities. And if you choose to join us in our multilevel marketing…”.

That meant certainly for nothing good, but you weren’t exactly thinking with your brain, in that moment.

“… I know but I am not too sure of being truly convinced, hence I think that we should just leave it alone, I am sure that if you over to Mrs. Nesbitt here you’ll have more…” you tried to close the question, because not only your body had grown immensely hot close to overheating, but your lungs weren’t working properly.

And it started malfunctioning further, as the elegant Avon presented pushed a hand around your body, effectively bringing you close enough that you could almost see the light sheen of glossy lipstick he was wearing.

“… what can I do to convince you?” his lips were tantalizing hovering over yours “… don’t you feel the calling of the forbidden fruit, little Eve? I promise that it’ll taste deliciously”.

You didn’t know what that to reply.

Also, because you didn’t understand what ‘the forbidden fruit’ had to do with make-up and body creams.

But you weren’t certainly going to protest.

Not when he brought you closer and finally smashed those sensual lips over yours

And then you were in your bedroom, getting that ‘forbidden fruit’ as the strange presenter told you to release your inner chaos.

‘… wait!’ you had screeched loudly, as he continued to pounding into you at a perfect pace ‘… don’t you have a name? It’d be just creepy if I had to continue calling you ‘the fucking Avon presenter’ “.

“Then you can call me Michael” he muttered, as he pushed himself inside of you again, his hand sneaking between your bodies, making you yelp out the following phase.

“… like the archangel?”.

And you swore that for a moment the Avon presenter’s perfect face became one of a twisted demon.

It was almost sexy.

“Exactly” he hissed, almost like a snake.

And then you lost yourself in the movements of his hips.

Michael didn’t like in the slightest this method to convert people.

It got him dirty and it annoyed him beyond relief.

He had to fake it each time.

And the Devil only knew how much it took for a man to properly fake it.

But he had assured another soul for his father.

Once he was out of the umpteenth house, he got his phone out and called Mrs. Mead.

“Another soul assured, Mrs. Mead”.

#Michael Langdon #Michael Langdon Reader #Michael Langdon x Reader #Michael Langdon Imagine #Michael Langdon Fic #Michael Langdon Smut #Smut #Michael Langdon Moodboard #AHS Writing #Michael Langdon Writing #Michael Langdon x Female Reader #Ahs Apocalypse #Ahs 8 #Ahs #American Horror Story

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kringsbebec · 4 years ago

Photo

ONE-SHOT

(prompt inspired)

____

"--all...bulance!"

"Sir, c'n y-...ove?"

"Th's doesn't...ook good."

Noises and words made a breakthrough in the darkness and pierce his skull, which already seems to be pierced with pain given the blood he tastes in his mouth and feels on the tip of his nose. But these aren't the biggest breakthroughs.

Further down. Down his shoulder.

The left one. Breakthrough by impalement.

His left eye - the only one that doesn't prefer thick blood to the smooth darkness of the previous fall - follows the visible metal before the jacket, the shirt, then the flesh preceding the leather of his seat. The long pile is a straight line between Devil and lorry. The other pipes have, at least, spared what's left of his convertible. All scattered on the ground, across the wheels of another car, too.

He has time to notice that its mustard-yellow hue is the worst hue to choose for a car before a shadow blocks what remains of his sight since his 'Cyclop' condition. "--ifer."

A hand under his chin touches his throat soon after.

He frowns the only eyebrow that doesn't risk to split open on more blood for puzzled expressions. The hair around the face, half of a profile... not mustard-yellow. It's blonde. Familiar, recognizable blonde. "De'ct've?"

He hasn't finished groaning the last letter that his head is falling backwards, his heart pushed by pain to the bottom of consciousness. It's a global explosion. Everywhere and nowhere at the same time. It remains in his shoulder, it winds around his left leg for a long time, which he's surprised not to have felt before that moment.

The Detective's voice grows quieter. "D'on't… m've! Stay...s'ill, okay? Help's...n the way, Lucifer."

Move?

Who's bloody moving here?! He's not. He has to move to breathe, though.

"Slow...b'eath. Slowly," Chloe encourages him from—

From where? Where is she? Her voice sounds from everywhere. Noise is everywhere.

What is she doing here?

#lucifer fanfiction #lucifer fandom #luciferprompts #fanfiction

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coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe · 10 months ago

Text

[Ghostbusters] Brainwaves: Mini Bios (1984) Nova's Family (Part 1/2)

Following Characters:

Mars Teufel

Anselm Teufel

Milo Teufel

Amalia Teufel

Gilbert Teufel

Medusa Teufel

Long post so it's under the cut.

General Family:

The Teufel Family are supposedly (Read: Definitely) psychic

Most (if not all) are former Jews who converted to being Wiccan at one point or another

The surname 'Teufel' literally translates to 'Devil'

'Mad' Mars Teufel:

Face Claim / Actor: John Candy

Full Name: Mars Neon Teufel. AKA: Mad Mars

Nova's older brother, protective, sometimes overprotective

34 in 1984. Born March 3rd 1950 in Brooklyn, Lives in NY, NY

German, Male, Straight, Wiccan, Pisces, Smoker

Speaks English, German, some Spanish and some French

6'2" and 275 lbs, Brown eyes and Blond hair, no tattoos or piercings, clean-shaven / stubble, hairy

Undiagnosed but likely Autistic

Grew up with Anselm and Milo, Now lives with Nova

Journalist for a German news channel

Bachelor's degree in Journalism & English

Anselm 'Selm' Teufel:

Face Claim / Actor: John Goodman

Full Name: Anselm Saturn Teufel. AKA: Selm

Milo's older brother, cousin to Mars and Nova

30 in 1984. Born June 20th 1954 in Brooklyn. Lives in Brooklyn

German, Male, Straight, Wiccan, Gemini, Smoker

Speaks English, German, some French, and some Spanish

6'2" and 300 lbs, Blue eyes and Brown hair, no tattoos or piercings, clean shaven / stubble, hairy

Grew up with Milo and Mars, still lives with Milo

Works at the Sedgewick Hotel as a Custodian / Handyman

A mean drunk who protects his brother no matter what

Bachelor's degree in Engineering & Metallurgy

'Magnificent' Milo Teufel:

Face Claim / Actor: Bobcat Goldthwait

Full Name: Milo Pluto Teufel. AKA: Magnificent Milo

25 in 1984. Born May 26th 1959 in Brooklyn. Lives in Brooklyn

German, Male, Biromantic, Asexual, Wiccan, Gemini

Speaks English, German, some French and some Spanish

5'6" and 150 lbs, Blue eyes and Brown hair, dyes his hair black

Clean shaven / stubble, hairy, 5 tattoos, scars from misadventure

Misdiagnosed and given Anti-psychotics, possibly Autistic / ADHD / ADD

In the Police Academy

Bachelor's in Architecture

Doctor Amalia 'Ama' Teufel, PhD:

Face Claim / Actress: Geena Davis

Full Name: Amalia Pandora Teufel

Doctor / Miss. AKA: Ama, Lia, Dora

28 in 1984. Born January 21st 1956 in Brooklyn. Lives in The Bronx

German, Female, Straight, Wiccan, Aquarius

Speaks 9 Languages including English, German & Dutch

6'0" and 145 lbs, Brown eyes and hair, no tattoos, ears pierced

Member of C.U.P.S, studying Eschatology, Student Athlete

PhD in Psychology and Biochemistry, member of MENSA

(Using this gif again because this is exactly the vibe of Gil & Ira)

Doctor/Professor Gilbert 'Gil' Teufel, PhD:

Face Claim / Actor: Danny DeVito

Full Name: Gilbert Vulcan Teufel

Professor / Doctor / Mr. AKA: Gil, Bert, Bertie, Doctor Volcano

40 in 1984. Born November 17th 1944 in Brooklyn. Lives in The Bronx

German, Male, Straight, Wiccan, Scorpio, Divorced, Smoker

Speaks 12 languages, can do American Sign Language

4'10" and 143 lbs, Brown eyes and Black hair, clean shaven / stubble, hairy

Teaches Angiology, Bioecology, Criminal Psychology, Dipterology, Foetology & Herbology

Romulus' / Roman's father, Ex-Husband of Tamar Mann

Medusa 'Lin' Teufel:

Face Claim / Actress: Marilu Henner

Full Name: Medusa Linda Teufel. AKA: Lin

32 in 1984. Born April 6th 1952 in Brooklyn. Lives in Manhattan

German, Female, Straight, Wiccan, Aries, Smoker

Speaks English, German, Polish, Spanish & Chinese

5'7" and 130 lbs, Blue eyes, Brown hair dyed Ginger, 7 tattoos, ears pierced

Agriology Student, in C.U.P.S, works as a taxi driver

Older sister of Electra, Younger sister of Norman

Even with her family's connection to death, she won't believe unless she sees proof

#ghostbusters #brainwaves #ghostbusters 1984 #ghostbusters oc #mars teufel #anselm teufel #milo teufel #amalia teufel #gilbert teufel #medusa teufel

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louadorable126 · 4 years ago

Text

Demons(you).me: Chapter 9 - Schrödinger's Eva

Artwork Commissioned from Aya/Itouyas on twitter! Please check her out! <3

>>Click here to read on Ao3!<<

Summary:

In a city controlled by the generally altered race of Demons, Lady’s life as a mercenary on the lower floor was never easy. Especially when she ran into Dante. A demon on the hunt for his missing brother.

———–

Fandom: Devil May Cry

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Characters: Vergil, Lady, Dante

———–

Chapter 9:

At the loud clunk of a bottle rolling out the bottom of a vending machine, Dante mindlessly squatted down and reached a hand under the dark flap.

The glass was ice cold to the touch beneath his fingertips; wet too - dripping with water droplets that uncomfortably ran down his hand. Water condensing under the warmth of his flesh. Just what he needed right now. A good kick to the senses.

God, he felt so numb.

The walk here had done little too soothe him. No, it had just given him more time to think, when he just wanted to do the exact opposite. It had been a constant battle of trying to keep his mind empty, free of any stray thought, while also trying not to get run over by cars. Something that turned out to be pretty damn hard!

Dante pushed himself back up off the ground, using the colourful vending machine as a support. He didn’t even attempt to find a bottle opener. Instead opting to just rip the mettle topper off with his bare hands. Bottle plugged to his mouth in his next breath and letting the freezing liquid pour into his system. He couldn’t bring himself to stop. It kept coming; as he chugged, chugged and chugged, until his body could take no more - practically on the verge of asphyxiation when his lips finally left the bottle.

“Fuck, that was good!” He coughed out, voice raspy. Falling back against the vending machine with a thump. The young man allowed himself a few moments to breath, before glancing back at the bottle. He’d managed to down at least 3/4’s of the bottle in one foul swoop. He had to smile a little at that, a new record for him. Might as well finish you off then, shouldn’t I?

And so he did. This time thankfully not almost suffocating himself.

Done with the bottle, he dumped into into a nearby, green ringed recycling hole beside the machine. Lighting up happily when he did so, as he moved to order another beer from the vending machine’s display.

"Attention all travellers! Due to a on-going police incident, all trains from 11pm onwards have been cancelled, as this floor will be placed under immediate lockdown for the foreseeable future. It is advised travellers either find suitable residence for the night, or board any of the remaining trains currently platformed. Thank you for your patience. Glory be to our Emperor!”

The peppy tannoy announcement quickly faded away, soon replaced by the starting of a tacky hip-hop beat in its place leaking out of the small rooms speakers. Dante sighed and shook his head at the announcement. Walking over to a small steel counter and bar stool by the large glass window, new bottle in hand.

It made sense they’d be closing off the area. Although Dante hadn’t exactly counted on them being so quick about it. The police were far less efficient than his people were at dealing with stuff. Although, murdering a bunch of people right next to some of the wealthiest of humans in the city, probably send a rocket up the arse of much the bureaucracy that normally held them back.

Must’ve been quiet the pandemonium back at the party . All those corporate folks clutching their pearls and fainting... W hat I would have given to seen that! Dante chuckled to himself at the thought. Taking another swing of his beer. Guess those poor guys down there will work for now.

Blue eyes focused down on the hectic platform bellow. The last stragglers of the floor’s night-life battled each-other over the nearby ticket hurdles in a mad crush. Although there was a particularly amusing group of what looked to be a dozen bachelors, bent over backwards forming a makeshift stairwell over the tall barrier for their groom to walk up. It obviously failed of course. The guy lost his balance and ended up going crashing to the ground on top of his friends, but they all seemed to be having a laugh at least.

The platform itself was no better. People sprinted down towards the trains like they were getting onto the last life-boats of the titanic. Cramming tight into the trains like fish in sardine cans. Clearly he wasn’t going to be sitting on the way back it seemed. Great.

For what should have felt like a clean victory tonight, really was starting to feel like the complete opposite. Yeah, their big family secret was now as good as dead and buried now (if Augustus was holding up his end of the bargain), and they could return back home finally. But, what would even be awaiting them there now when this adventure was over? Lady sure wouldn’t. She’d be stuck back down here. Where they could only - what? Visit her whenever they were given a new assignment? Ugh, Dante wasn’t even starting to miss them. How much pleasure had he gotten from being able to do his own thing down here? It was amazing feeling, not having every mission strictly chosen for him by mother dispatch’s hand-

Don’t think about that! A voice snapped in the back of his mind like a metal slap. His body jolted in sharp response, as the alabaster hand around his glass tightened. Just don’t.

Dante took a shaky sip of his icy drink. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut as he attempted to purge his mind of the thought once more.

But the beer did little to help, its chill expertly focusing his mind onto that exact topic, onto her alone.

What was Trish? Please stop . Clearly not Eva in terms personality that’s for sure. They couldn’t be more different. There… there just wasn’t the same flame there that Eva had always had. That’s the best way Dante could think to describe it. Eva always felt warm in a homey way, while Trish felt like the violent tinders setting the whole place alight. Stop It!

Granted, he couldn’t lie that he didn’t find that quality rather admirable. But the uncanny valley was just far too strong for his own liking. Heh, maybe that’s the same feeling people get when they meet him and Verge for the first time. Two people who look completely alike, but are so wildly different from one another it. Fuck, maybe Trish is just a long lost twin of Eva’s who’d just happened to be converted into a demon at some point? Fucking absurd idea, he knew. But given how many recent revolutions about his family had come to light in the past few weeks. How much did he truly know about his family, anymore? For all he could know, twins really could just run in the family-

He was just kidding himself wasn’t he? Dante could already imagine Vergil disapproving remarks over how ridiculous such an insane idea was. And he knew damn well phantom Vergil wasn’t wrong. He knew the most likely answer. You’re going to regret this you idiot! Stop thinking now! He always had.

The only other thing Trish could most likely be was…

Eva herself.

Ground up and converted into one of his own kind.

There was no other obvious (and realistic) way why Trish would look so much like her. And in a twisted way, the idea just worked, from the moment it clicked in his mind! What would be a more fitting punishment for her and Sparda, for having half-human offspring like him and Vergil, than making Eva into a demon against her will?

A twisted, cruel smirk pulled at Dante’s lips. This was all his fault wasn’t it? He should’ve been there to protect her. He never should have gone looking for Vergil. He should’ve payed closer attention to him instead of brushing his strange behaviour off, stopped him before he went on his murder tour of the city’s databanks in the first place. He was such a awful brother and son to the both of them, wasn’t he?

"Attention travellers! 5 minutes remain until the last train departs!”

Despairing, Dante went to go take another sip from his bottle. Yet only a drop of the bitter drink landed on his tongue. He lifted the bottle up into the air, and lazily tipped it upside down. Squinting a little, gazing up into its small hole, only to depressingly find nothing there…

Maybe he was taking this self-deprecating train of thought too far though? There was nothing concrete about that conclusion. He was just going off yet another assumption wasn’t he?

For one, Trish didn’t have the trademark bleach white hair they all had. Heh, another blindingly obvious deduction there Detective Dante! He thought, a weak smirk just tugging at his lips. It...wasn’t a great case for Eva not being converted the more he thought about it though. She clearly had the tech of a demon, being able to summon those swords at will and all, and as Vergil had demonstrated tonight, she could’ve just dyed it blond. Perhaps it was a faint memory of Eva slipping through. But no, even that didn’t seem quite right...

He’d run into a few newly converted demons in his time, and while disoriented, they seemed to be able to completely recall their old lives with no trouble. Yet Trish had no memory of either of them - not even the basic motherly sixth sense that Eva always seemed to have, still lurking in there at all. So Eva's memory being wiped (did they even have that tech?) seemed out of the question. And what about the rucks that would’ve been caused upon the discovery that a human woman had been living on the upper floor for like what? 20 years under the demonic authorities noses? That would’ve been all over the news without question! Yet they hadn’t heard a peep of anything like that…

“Attention travellers! 2 minutes remain until the last train departs!"

So Eva could be safe, but she also be long gone. What a wonderful fucking paradox!

Dante rubbed a hand across his tired eyes, his fingertips glazing over the warm sweat covering his brow. He got up from the stool, nursing the empty beer bottle to his chest; somewhat amazed it wasn’t shattering beneath his firm hold. He really needed to get going. No matter how much the anxious twist of his gut, or dizzy, alcohol-fogged mind begged him to do anything but sit his ass back down.

Shakes racked his body, as he stumbled out of the small room and headed towards the escalator back down.

“Attention travellers! The last train will be departing in 1 minute!"

———–

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