#golly its been so long

[synthshenanigans]

Another number update!!

The Mind Electric has hit 2 mil on Spotify!!

Not only that, but Ruler of Everything finally hit one million as well :D!!!!

[arthur-lesters-spinal-cord]

Rip Noel you were just too pretty and Kayne couldn’t deal with the competition

[allofuswantgwinam]

my mom literally wants to be clueless and im so sick of hearing her say that

[justapalspal]

We need a line up of all the ones besides Balkdura who are bald and also I suggest a shaved Kaiba but he still has the mullet in the back

what, like a prison lineup? 😂 what crimes did they commit??

[scattered-winter]

i got over 25k words into the rewrite before i realized i actually wanted to change the tense, so i just spent 3 hours going over everything i've already written to fix it lmao. we are doing GREAT tonight

[teagoblin]

. Pt 2

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

I've had a bit of brainrot today and have to share so I can get it out of my head (maybe) so feel free to ignore lol I've been thinking of 141 having a civilian spouse (separately, just in case there was confusion) that only ever refers to them by their call sign/rank during an emergency situation. Using it just immediately sets off sirens and they see red. - 🐍

Yesss. Got a bit carried away with this one, lol. Only did 141 specifically, lmk if you'd like to see anyone else! Also tried my best to make this GN!😊

141 With Reader Who Uses Their Callsign in Emergency Situation

Warnings: mentions of guns, violence, unwanted advances/touching, stalking, swearing, injury, crying--- I promise it has a good ending😅

Simon Ghost Riley-

"Golly, aren't you a fine looking thing." You heard a voice say behind you, as you were standing at the bar getting you and Simon another drink. Simon had just gone to the bathroom, so you knew you were on your own for this.

You turned around and were met with a man double your size, a sickening smile making its way on his face.

"Oh, thank you." You mustered a small smile before turning back to the bar, praying the man would take the hint and leave you alone.

"No, I mean it. I could take that little ass of yours home right now." The man came closer, and you could just start to feel his breath on your neck, making you cringe.

"I have a boyfriend, I'm sorry." You tried softly. You were desperate at this point, your eyes searching for Simon.

"I don't see him anywhere." The man smiled, his teeth were yellow, and his breath reeked of cheap booze.

"He just went to the restroom." You mumbled.

You felt a hand grope your ass slightly, squeezing at the flesh there. "Mmhmm, if I were your boyfriend, I'd never leave you unattended like this."

You cried out, moving to swat the guys hand away, to no avail. Nobody around you seemed to notice your predicament, and you were starting to grow scared.

The man pushed you up against the counter, his hand now gripping your waist. "Be a good little pet and come with me, okay?"

You struggled against his hold and screamed out, "Ghost!"

Simon, who had just exited the restroom, heard the wail and immediately started to run to you. What he saw had him seeing red.

He forced himself between you and the man and grabbed his hand roughly. "Who the fuck do you think you are touching them."

The man looked as if he was about to piss himself, as Simon was nearly a half foot taller and twice as bulky. "Sorry, man, they acted like they wanted it."

Simon seethed and twisted the man's wrist with such force that you swore you heard bones cracking. "Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Here. Before I decide to do something that'll end with me in jail."

The man let out a small whimper, grabbed his now bruised hand and ran for the door.

Simon watched as he fled, then turned his attention to you, his eyes softening. "Y/N? Sweetheart, are you okay?"

Your eyes filled with tears as you threw yourself into Simon's chest. "Thank you, Si."

"You don't have to thank me. That's what I'm here for, yeah? Why won't we go home, I'll draw you a bath." He pulled away and cupped your cheeks, carefully pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

You nodded your head slowly and let Simon lead you out of the bar, not expecting him to crouch down on the ground once you made it outside. "Si?"

"Cmon, get on my back. Long way to the car." He gestured to his back and helped you on it, holding your legs tightly as he walked you to his car. He'd be damned if he ever let anything like that happen again to his person.

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

You were walking around your local department store one afternoon with Kyle, looking to find him some new dress shirts. The two of you had a friends wedding to attend that weekend, and Kyle didn't have many outfits to pick from.

"What about this one?" You picked out a light blue stripped dress shirt, holding it up for Kyle to see.

"I'll look like a grandpa with that one, babe." He joked, waiving away the shirt.

"You'd be a hot grandpa." You countered, putting the shirt back.

"Oh hush. I gotta run to the restroom, I'll be right back." He chuckled as he gave your arm a squeeze. You watched him walk away with a small smile before returning to the racks in front of you.

Unbeknownst to you, there was a gentleman who'd been following you and Kyle around the store for some time now, and now that Kyle was gone, it was the perfect opportunity to strike.

You were just rounding the next row of racks when the man came up behind you and started to pull on your purse. You cried out, trying to pull back, but the man was too strong. He yanked with one mighty tug, ripping the purse from your arm, and shoved you backward, sending you toppling into the racks behind you.

"GAZ!" You screamed, as the man stared at you, frozen, before turning the other way and running.

Kyle was walking toward you when he heard you scream, and his blood ran cold. He immediately sprinted in your direction, running right into the man with your purse. The man fell backward, and Kyle looked down to see him clutching your purse.

He put his foot on the man's stomach and pushed down hard. "Give me the fucking purse, asshole."

The man refused and tightened his grip on your bag. Kyle saw red and promptly punched the man square in the jaw, knocking him out cold. He grabbed your purse as a few workers finally came to check on the commotion.

Kyle looked to see you clutching your head in pain. He ran over to you, sliding to a crouch position once he got to you. "Baby! Are you okay?"

Your bottom lip trembled as a strangled cry escaped your throat, and Kyle grabbed you, pulling you to his chest. He had to talk himself down from going and giving the man another few punches.

He tucked his arm underneath your legs and lifted you up bridal style. "I'm so sorry, babe. I've got you. Let's go home. Yeah?"

Kyle spent the rest of the night watching over you and icing the bruise that formed on your head. He made a silent vow that day, that he'd beat the ever loving shit out of anyone who dared touch his baby again.

John Price-

BANG!

You looked up from your computer in your home office at the sound of the loud noise. It was late at night, and John was asleep, so you were concerned as to what caused the sound. You grabbed the pocket knife out of your drawer and made your way quietly to investigate.

Peeking your head around the doorway, you saw a large man making his way through your shared home with your husband. It appeared he'd somehow broken in through the front door.

You let out a small whimper, the confidence you had before now fading. John was fast asleep upstairs, and you had no way to get to him without revealing yourself.

You watched silently as the man started to rummage in your drawers, trying to find anything valuable he could take.

He started to draw closer to where you were, and as you slowly crept backward, the floorboards creaked underneath you.

The man was immediately notified of your presence and caught a glimpse of you as you tried to hide around the corner.

"Hey! You!" He shouted, immediately running toward you.

You sprinted in the other direction, narrowly missing his outstretched hand. You ran into the bathroom in the hallway and tried to close the door before a hand came out to stop it.

"Nowhere to run now." He said, a terrifying smile lining his face.

"PRICE!" You screeched, your heart beating rapidly.

John's eyes flew open at the sound of your terrified cry. With adrenaline coarsing through his veins, he flung himself out of bed and grabbed his handgun from his bedside table. He slowly crept down the stairs and took in his surroundings.

He saw you right away, crouched in terror before a man, who had you at gunpoint. John swiftly made his way behind the man before hitting him hard on the back of his head with the butt of his gun.

The man fell limply to the floor, and you let out a strangled sob. "John."

"Hey love, it's alright. I'm here." He approached you slowly, his hands raised up to show you he meant no harm. You held your arms out to him, and he pulled you into him, holding you tight. "I've got you. Nobody's going to hurt you."

He pulled away for just a moment to call the cops but held a grip firm on your waist, letting you know he wasn't ever going to let anything happen to you.

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

"Alright, babe, I'll run and grab the stuff at the bottom half of the list. You grab top?" Johnny asked, eyeing your fairly large grocery list.

"Sounds good, thanks, love." You smiled at him and tore the list in half, sending him on his way after a quick peck.

You watched as he strolled away, basket in hand, and made for the toiletry section of the store.

You were comparing toothpastes when you felt two men staring at you. You subtly turned your head in their direction, and they quickly looked anywhere but your direction.

You felt a slight sinking feeling in your belly and quickly threw one of the toothpastes in your cart. You made for the next aisle, looking around deoderant for you and Johnny, when the same two men appeared again, walking slowly down the aisle toward you.

Trying to brush off the occurrence as a coincidence, you threw what you needed in the cart and started to make your way to the shampoo aisle. Your resolve quickly crumbled when you now realized the men were following you.

The store was rather empty, so there was nobody close by for you to turn to. You sped your cart up and headed in the direction you thought Johnny might be. The men were hot on your tail, making it clear they were trying to get to you.

You felt one of their hands touch your back, and you let out a cry. "SOAP!"

Johnny was just finishing up his portion of the list when he heard your scream. His heart was beating rapidly as he dropped the basket and ran to you.

"Y/N?" He called out and was met with a horrifying sight. You were cornered in one of the aisles by two men and were crying, your hands up in a defensive motion as you crouched on the floor.

Johnny immediately approached. "Leave my partner the fuck alone."

The two men whipped their heads in his direction, rubbing their hands together. It was clear they were looking for a fight. Johnny lifted his shirt slightly, revealing his sidearm strapped to his waist. "Try it, I fucking dare you. You won't like the outcome."

The men clearly knew better than to create such a scene in a store and decided to flee.

Johnny watched as they ran and crouched down to your level. "Baby. Are you okay?"

You choked out a sob and wrapped your arms around your husband. "I was so scared, Johnny."

Johnny gritted his teeth in anger, he hated that anyone made you feel this way. It took everything in him not to go chasing after those bastards.

"I know, baby. I'm here now, though. Why don't we quickly finish up this trip and grab some takeout, yeah? I'm not really feeling up to cooking anymore." He pulled your face away gently and stroked your tears away. "I've got you, always, okay?"

You nod slowly and let him help you up. He grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, not letting go until you both reached the car.

[shunsuiken]

cw. luci carries gn!reader and reader is just flustered by how easy it is for him + i don’t mention reader’s weight he just carries you + also can u tell im having luci brainrot 🧍🏻‍♀️

lucifer calls you to his quarters one day, using that sing-songy tone that makes you giggle. but after a few moments of waiting, the blond frowns and wonders why its taking you so long to respond and go over to where he is. so he gets up from his chair and practically waddles to where you are and finds you lying on a couch, staring at the ceiling.

“is there something on the ceiling that i should know about too, or something?” lucifer tilts his head, scratching his chin as his glaze flickers between the ceiling and your lying figure.

“i’m just—” you breathe, chest rising, “—so exhausted. i had a 12-hour shift and i don’t think i can move a single limb at this point.”

“you know i can just zip-zap your boss to make them disappear, right?” he kneels beside you, folding his arms over his knees. his frown returns upon further inspection of your face, the radiance from your skin tone has been drained completely from you.

a smile rushes to your face as you chuckle softly, using every ounce of your energy to roll onto your side and boop the tip of his nose. “yes i’m quite aware my partner is the ruler of this realm but i do want to stick to having a job instead of lounging around, y’know?”

lucifer’s innocent smile grows onto his lips as you boop his nose, his eyes momentarily following your finger’s movement, making him look so adorable. he hums, brows raising in excitement from your actions, “i think you’re so hot for that.”

before you can respond, he lifts a finger and puts it against your lips. “but also, i need some feedback on a new rubber duck i put together—uhm, do you think-”

“absolutely—yes, obviously, i can do that—i would never say no. however-” you give him a sheepish look. “i don’t think i can manage to walk over there right now.”

lucifer blinks at you owlishly. a moment of silence passes by. then he throws his arms in the air, realisation hitting him. “hold on, i can just carry you!”

“what.” your eyes widen, shaking your head. “okay, no, you don’t have to do that. i can wa-”

“don’t be silly, honey.” you can barely get another word out when he slides his arms under you, lifting you with such ease that it stuns you into silence. your lips are clammed together, thoughts buffering as you attempt to process the situation. although your arms seem to have easily found purchase around his neck…

lucifer let out not a single grunt, huff nor even a sigh; his expression remains unchanged, that fond smile adorning his pretty lips. it sends boiling heat straight to your face. he may be a small guy but he is the king of hell… strength checks out.

“honey?” he calls out to you from your lack of response.

crimson eyes observe your expression. lucifer doesn’t mean to brag but he thinks he has an inkling of why you’re behaving such a way. the corner of his lips quirk up with such smugness, you’re already bracing yourself for the cocky behaviour he’s going to begin displaying.

“what? cat got your tongue?” he cocks his brow at you when you immediately avert your gaze elsewhere.

“n-no. just caught me off guard, that’s all.” your entire neck is flushed. being able to feel his breath blowing against your skin there is making this position feel way more intimate than it should be. “now let me see the duck you wanted feedback on.”

lucifer giggles at your tone, so obviously trying to change the topic of conversation. sure he wants feedback on that rubber duck but gosh, oh golly! just look again the way you’re behaving… you’re even kicking your feet! so adorable, so fucking cute, he thinks.

he promptly makes a beeline for his room, taking advantage of the position you’re in to graze his lips over your ear lobe, cooing, “darling, i could get used to this kind of look on your face.”

[nikosaki]

Please may I request Yandere fyodor with a reader who’s in love with dazai. Thank you, have a nice day/night

Yandere fyodor with reader crushing over Dazai

Summary: Uh oh! Having fyodor as someone who is obesesed with you and then going for dazai? Tsk tsk what a foolish bird you are!

Genre: yandere, dark content

Warnings: dark themes, manipulation, bite marks, gaslighting,

a/n: reader has some nerve to even look at dazai if it’s yandere fyodor💀

Oh hell naw- 💀

You think having a yandere Russian man stalking you 24/7 is not enough so much that you went to crush over another crazy maniac

Well lets be clear first, let’s say reader is in the Rats in the house of the dead then it would cause more conflict especially between the two geniuses.

Fyodor already has a whole chess game prepared now he wants his doll to play with?

Fyodor knows what goes on your head you can tell too whenever his eyes narrow when your feeling nervous, excited or sad, he know everything

Perhaps it was his mistake of introducing dazai to you, his darling was just so curious!

But fyodor knows he know whenever your eyes had this small form of heart whenever he talked about him or showed his picture.

It became worse when you and dazai met the first time, oh golly-

I am pretty sure dazai already knew about how you love him and though at first he thought he could use you, you look like quite the peculiar person.

Having the demons doll wrapped around his finger is such a great way to provoke him

Dazai is a smooth charmer just like fyodor, he probably takes things further each time you two meet

One time he would say soothing words, another kissing the back of your hand, complimenting your work, and maybe at times leaving a trace of him on you intentionally.

Maybe even going far as leaving a mark on you though I doubt fyodor would allow that.

If anything fyodor got pretty angry when he found out you two even interacted! How dare his doll chase after another man

Foe now he will let you ran into the man you love but when he confronts you a bout it..I hope you will be both physically and mentally prepared.

Dont look at me like that! Fyodor is a sadist and he loves punishing you whether it’s mentally or sexually.

I do think he would lock you in a room for days with no sunlight rather than do physical punishment. What will you blame him on? Touching you?

You can’t really it’s your fault, why did you ran into his arms, do you not know who you belong to? Do you want to leave him? Is he not enough for you?

All sorts of manipulation tactics will be used against you and at the end you will become more submissive.

I am pretty sure if dazai by any chance falls in love with you it would be better for fyodor, why does he need to be angry? disturbing Dazai by any way makes his ego grow!

Two birds with one stone.

In the end you will be far too of a lifeless doll who learned its lesson from living in a dim cell for far too long. How many days has it been? You do not know but atleast fyodor didn’t abandon you.

A/N: not proud of it too much *sigh*

[unholycateyes]

happy 32 followers!!!

i just wanna say thank you all i did cat eyes as just a funny lil thing to gain some experience making comics for future projects so iwont stop cat eyes till i either get board demotivated or till its finished lolz!

i've been in the fandom for years but this is my first real project so im happy you all seem to like it!!! i have big big plans!!!

and because you all seem to love cat eyes i made a new au called

ROCKEFELL

Their are mostly designs i hope they will all be seeable lol

this is what i've been working on! RockeFell! see im a boig fan of nightcore and underfell designs i'm also a huge nerd for old forgotten aus so what if a bunch of old aus were pulled in to one singularity point and combined the result is rockefell

now while alot of them are just designs i do have a story in mind! (feel free to draw them tho!!!))

but ill save that for later cuz i cant forget the guest section of the drawing!

i wanna thank @mioplaces and @grumpyghostdoodles for letting me draw their lovely characters (i also wanna say for comic papyrus i took big inspiration off a drawing i saw on google so credit to that artist for their killer design!!) i like to think cat and comic papyrus are reoccurring characters in rockefell

more info on specific characters

here we have chara age 13 the future of skating chara records and uploads skate videos to the undernet chara has an obsession with curvature seeing the curves in time, light and space

they also have a theme i made just a lil demo tho!

next we have asriel "the fry" dreemurr asriel is 11 and loves to skate asriel also has a hidden innate ability within him other monsters do not posses nor boss monsters and if you cant tell he loves dragon ball!

next we have frisk and flowey!!! frisk is a bit of a mean "girl" not taking shit from no one! frisk is still kind and caring but likes to mess with people a delinquent with a heart of gold!l frisk and flowey are best pals as well also frisk has a knife called the devils blade

i did more than just characters tho i did backgrounds!!

the ruins! a vast city filled with monsters but monsters need a fast way to get around too so i present the ruins railways!! and hidden within the ruins long forgotten is the secret garden! golly i wonder what thats a reference too lol

next we have snowedin aka snowedin hills!

next we have underfall city

i have some music for this!!

its just a like down town kinda area filled with sea monsters under a big dome

then i did judgment hall for funs lol

i hope you all liked this i put like so much work in to it haha!

[bvttoneyes]

"Oh and You!" ~ Ethan Morgan x Reader

sum! Glue song by beabadoobee, also just cutesy moments with your boyfriend Ethan. (different moments/days)

tw! super fluff in gonna cry

this is so cute, also did yall know i do these a/n's before the fic lolzzz

"I've never known someone like you, ooh. Tangled in love, stuck by you, from the glue."

You and Ethan recently started dating and oh my goodness is this boy the most perfect amazing person boyfriend ever, and my golly he is whipped. He is so so sweet and treats you so so good. Not only that but he just loves you so much. Probably more than you love him.

Nonetheless, even though its been less than 6 months it is still the most perfect relationship and perfect boyfriend ever!

You were walking up to him and his friends at lunch. You sat next to him and he looked at you with those sweet eyes full of adoration and love. God, he loved you so much.

But much like every relationship there were flaws. He would forget to do some things that you had gotten used to, seeing as how this is his first relationship. He doesn't do it on purpose he's just not used to having say 'love you bye!' whenever one specific person is in the same room as him and he's leaving. He mostly gets in trouble over the phone for that though.

The bell rang, signalling that they're lunch was over and they were to head back to class. Leaving you alone.

Ethan was about to just leave. No kiss, no hug, no 'love you bye'.

"Uh, Ethan!" you grab his attention with your somewhat snarky yell.

He looks confused, scanning where he was sitting to see if he had dropped something, "hm?"

"Don't forget to kiss me!" you couldn't hold back your smile as his face came to the realisation.

You then changed to a more smug look when continuing on, "or else you'll have to miss me..."

He smiled and gave you a small but sweet peck on the lips before leaving the cafeteria.

"I guess I'm stuck forever by the glue, oh and you!"

Later that day you were in class together and there was a... pretty girl sitting next to him. She was new to school and needed a tour. She was asking Ethan, before you could interrupt he responded with, "Yeah, me and my girlfriend can show you around."

She immediately shut down the offer and he refused to take her without you. 20 minutes later while the teacher was in the middle of a lecture there was a paper ball wadded up that had hit your shoulder and was now on the floor. You open it up to see in green ink, 'Im stuck by you'

"Finding the right words to use for this song. I have you in mind, so it won't take so long!"

Ethan met you outside of your English class, one of the classes you don't have together. The assignment was, write a poem. About anything, horses, eggs, boyfriend, mom, dad, cat- wait boyfriend?

So you wrote a poem for him, you grabbed the paper out of your bag and read it to him. (im not good with poems you cant make me write one.)

"Never thought I'd find you, but you're here, and so I love you! I'm not wrong when I say,"

It wasn't unknown that Ethan was unpopular. It also was common knowledge that he got bullied. Usually it didn't bug him, but today it did. He walked home by himself. Shut himself out all day. Was consistently zoning out.

You went to the store, bought his favorite stuff and went to his house. You even got him some chocolate and flowers, because how often do guys get those when they feel bad. He immediately let you in when he found out who it was, he just wanted cuddles and you to rub his head. Then he saw you with matching star wars pajamas, chocolate, his favorite food, and flowers. As well as a scarf from his hogwarts house.

He gave you the biggest hug. He didn't ever think he would date you, or even end up knowing you! But you are. And you show up when he's upset, and so he loves you.

"hey, I've been stuck onto you. Like glue." He said peacefully. And while he was acting like you and him were stuck together, you knew he meant metaphorically. And he knew you would understood that.

"I've been stuck by glue. Right onto you!"

"I've been stuck by glue."

"I've never known..."

"I've never known someone like you"

"I've never known..."

Ethan whispered, "I've never known someone like you."

[hoverboards-and-dragons]

Lucifer appears to be the only fallen angel in hell in the hellaverse

(even vaggie as pointed out can still enter heaven), with the other sins being far more clearly demonic and somewhat implied to have been created along side hell

and, I love this change, that not all the big names in hell were originally angels, makes hell really feel like it's own place with its own history and power structure that got haphazardly repurposed into an afterlife as a second thought

(there's a very interesting meta-narrative to follow if you assume the human realm of the hellaverse has the same understanding of Christianity and the Lucifer story as we do and all reinterpretations are in world misconceptions, it makes it look like the story was reframed to make hell existence more defined by heaven, to delegitimize their right to self-determination, that anything in hell is just a result of heaven's defects going to stir trouble, which is a justification that commonly pops up in imperialism, and on top the resistance from oppression being used to justified even greater atrocities, golly the themes-)

right where was I?

i like that Lucifer stands out so much, his silly little guy sits a top the throne works cause he feels like he's operating on an entirely different Power system to everyone else, it doesn't matter how weak of an angel he lets himself be they'll never even begin to touch him (overlords cry themselves to sleep over not being able to beat the whimsy out of this stupid little guy that ranted about differences in scale colourization of snake breeds for 3 hours)

the contrast of the other sins being giant demonic creatures while he's this small angelic humanoid of light in chef's kiss

Everyone talks about the other sins being like aunts and uncles to Charlie but we need to acknowledge the equal importance notion that that means Luci crashed into the sins' realm at mach 5 with the impact cater alone probably forming a whole ass new ocean (his distraught sobbing filled it) and they immediately accepted him as their new not-sibling (they fucked at some point lets be honest, you can't convince me he and Lilith have a monogamous exclusive relationship, she invented feeling restrained by a relationship) in the sins weird eternal dysfunctional found family

Fuck, I Need That Fic with a freshly fallen Lucifer and the other sins So Bad, link me if you know one

The Six: No Angels allowed in hell

:Lucifer

The Six: OK we'll make an exception because he looks very polite-Prideful

there is one(1) acceptable angel

It's so important to me that Luci has his sibling archangels in heaven just so they can watch him have a better family in hell

Given it seems like Lucifer's fall wasn't a result of being intentionally cast out but some inherent consequence you know they miss him so much, that twist of 'how could he do this?' and 'why didn't I stop him?', you know there's this awkward mix of pity, anger and longing whenever they interact that Luci's grown both resentful and numb to

He needs to lose his entire family only to find a new one please Im so attached to this concept, shaking him

Trading in one group of assholes that lovingly give him shit out of jealousy(dad's favourite) for a different group of assholes that lovingly give him shit out of jealousy(highest ranking prince, also A Mess)

Luci: "Hey, Can you finish signing off on those trade-?"

Belph, yawning: "Can you talk to your daughter?"

[colormepurplex2]

The Demon Is In The Details | It's Just A Box

↳ Demon!Jimin x Human!f.Reader ⤜ Crossroads Demon AU, Accidental Enthrallment ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 6,470 ⚠️ Crass language, demon summoning, talk of blood, demon deals, life bartering

Next Chapter⇾ ◅ Back to story masterlist

“Wouldn’t you rather be at home and in bed right now? I know I would,” you lament for the dozenth time since your best friend dragged you out into the middle of nowhere.

She gives you a disgruntled look from over her shoulder. “Can you stop being such a spoilsport already?”

You’re not trying to be a spoilsport. You just don’t see the appeal in trudging through the woods in the middle of the night to go bury a box of questionable items at some supposed crossroads just so nothing can happen.

“Do you really believe in this stuff, Dom?”

Dom—or Dominique Portland to almost everyone else��has been your best friend since you were both barely tall enough to see over the kitchen countertop. Inseparable only just scratches the surface of the bond you share. Your summers growing up were spent sharing her small twin bed and waking up to her mother frying bacon and flipping pancakes nearly every morning.

The silver ribbons holding her unruly space buns in place flutter in the air as she spins around and starts walking backward, her mocha eyes assessing you. “You know I do,” she finally says, a playful smirk curling the corner of her full lips, making the piercing in the center of the bottom one glitter in the soft moonlight filtering through the trees.

You’ve always found her to be a stunning human being; a bit eccentric maybe, but that only adds to her beauty, you think. The bright lilac streaks in her tightly coiled hair match the overall dye of your own, a sentiment you both think speaks volumes for the kind of friendship you have. Her cinnamon-colored skin is radiant and smooth, and she has a smile that lights up any room.

“Watch where you’re going before you trip or something. I’m not carrying your ass the three miles back to civilization,” you grouse good-naturedly, giving her shoulder a playful swat.

Dominique laughs, the sound echoing through the sparse canopy around you. But she spins back around and resumes stalking through the underbrush, the flashlight in her hand swinging wildly across the trees. Her platform combat boots make quick work of the climbing weeds and thin saplings under foot as she picks up her pace.

She started dabbling in witchy things over a decade ago, mostly crystals, tarot cards, herbs…and now summoning demons, you suppose. When she first showed you her tarot cards and the satchel of crystals her grandmother passed down to her on her eighteenth birthday, you humored her by letting her read your fortune or whatever it is she did with them, thinking it would be a phase and pass.

But, as the years went by and she continued to delve into the mystic arts and varying degrees of the occult, you realized it wouldn’t be passing; at least, not any time soon. It’s become less about humoring her and simply more about supporting your best friend in what she loves to do, even if you find it a bit unorthodox.

“We’re almost there,” Dominique sing-songs, throwing her hands up and doing what you’ve coined as her terrible impression of jazz hands. The bangles on her wrists clack together, creating a tinkling sound that you find eerie as it peals through the quiet of the forest.

“Oh, golly gosh, how exciting,” you mutter to yourself so Dom doesn’t hear your unenthusiastic sarcasm, before continuing a bit louder, “Cool. Think we’ll be back before the sun comes up? I’d like to be able to get at least a few hours of sleep before work tomorrow.”

Dominique chuckles, her shoulders swaying as if she moves to some musical beat you can’t hear. “Don’t worry yourself, my lovely friend. I’ll make sure you’re home and in bed long before the sun graces us with its warmth.”

You follow Dom through a tight squeeze between two towering trees. It opens up to a small clearing. The moon, bright and full overhead, illuminates the space like a spotlight setting the stage for a grand number. In the very center of it all stands a giant tree, the star of the show, with its branches reaching far to each side. Its leaves thread through those of the others lining the edge of the clearing.

“Wow,” you mutter in awe. “It’s so creepy it’s actually kind of pretty.”

Your friend claps delightedly, a girlish squeal of excitement echoing from her. “It’s just like Grann described. She told me stories about this place when I was little. I always wanted to come see for myself, but by the time I was old enough, I had honestly forgotten it existed.”

“Until you decided you wanted to summon a demon,” you offer, earning a giggle from Dominique.

“Until I decided I wanted to try and summon a demon,” she agrees, clicking off her flashlight and shoving it into the crossbody bag she has over her shoulder.

You follow her further into the clearing. The tree in the center seems to grow taller the closer you get, looking larger than life once you’re under the outer fringe of its branches. The leaves are dark and richly green, and the trunk looks rough, gnarled, and ancient. It must be hundreds of years old, you’d wager.

The ground underfoot changes from the soft give of grass and dirt to a harder, more resistant feel as you move ahead, just behind Dominique. “Odd,” you say, stamping your foot. The heavy thud of solid ground sounds from under your foot. “It’s almost like…” You trail off, realizing it’s exactly what it sounds like.

Beneath the layer of leaves and other debris, there is a faint, hard-packed path. You can see it now, the distinct difference in the way the grass grows. It’s like a path runs straight at the tree before bisecting to either side of it.

“A true crossroads,” Dominique announces. “Full of old magick, a pinnacle of power…so divine. Can’t you feel it?”

Whether it’s of your own accord, or Dom bringing attention to it, you’re suddenly aware of a distinct buzzing sensation crawling its way up your arms and down your spine. It feels like ants skittering over your skin and you’re just waiting for that sting of the first bite.

An uneasiness settles in, filling the pit of your stomach with wasps instead of butterflies. Something about this place feels wrong. Like one false move and the ground will open up and swallow you whole.

“I-I don’t know if I like this, Dom. This place is giving me the creeps.” You no longer find it all that beautiful. If anything, you’re fairly certain the beauty is hiding what is really underneath: pure, unadulterated wickedness.

She pulls a small tin from her back pocket and gives it a little shake. The contents inside rattle around, making you wince at the sudden, jarring sound. You watched Dominique fill the tin earlier tonight. Graveyard dirt, a few strands of hair, a photograph, a sliver of yarrow root, and a few drops of blood soaked into a square of homemade paper fit tightly into the hinge-lidded metal box that once held tiny breath mints.

Dominique explained the significance of each item, but if someone asked you right now to repeat what she said, you don’t think you could. Especially not with the anxiety deep in your gut growing in intensity with each passing second.

“There’s nothing to be worried about. It’s just a box. You said it yourself, this probably won’t work. Worse case, I get my hands dirty burying this, and then we can go home…where I will graciously accept as many ‘I told you so’s’ as you want to give me.”

You sigh, resigned to let her do this. You take a few steps back, giving Dominique a wide berth as she kneels down in the grass in front of the tree. The jeans and ribbed long-sleeve shirt you’re wearing are keeping you comfortable, but despite that, you shudder as a chill passes over you.

The words Dom mutters are incoherent to you, sounding mostly like gibberish spoken with a thick, in-the-throat accent. As soon as the incantation trails off, she pushes to her feet and brushes the dirt from her hands off onto the thighs of her jeans. The whole time her focus is lasered in on the small mound of disturbed earth where her tin now resides.

😈😈😈

Jimin

The sound of treading footfalls echo around Jimin, seeming both distant and close all at once. It’s the same every time someone decides to disturb the relative peace of a crossroads. First, it’s the sound of their footsteps, then the airy inhale and exhales of their lungs, and then comes the erratic, lub-dub of their heartbeats.

Seems it’s time to go to work. There is an order to these things, a queue of sorts, and it just so happens that now it’s his turn. It’s been a while since Jimin was summoned, though not long enough as far as he’s concerned. With the number of demons combined with the progression of disbelief among the human population, the fewer people who believe, the fewer people who demand deals.

It’s not that Jimin hates his job, per se. He quite enjoys haggling his way through pitiful souls, satiating that deep, internal ache inside himself. It’s a primal necessity, one derived from being at the top of the proverbial spiritual food chain. Yet…he’s found himself growing tired of the mundane dribble of the same tired requests.

Nothing excites him anymore, and that should be a crime punishable by a thousand years in the darkest sanguine pit of his world, he thinks. Being a demon should be fun—it once was. But, after thousands of years of hearing the same sniveling pleas and demanding offers, he desires something more…just, more.

The inside of his quarters in the Obsidian Fortress reflect his restlessness. He’s acquired some of the more baser items from his time up top. A bed he doesn’t need, furniture that would easily sell for millions at auction for its rarity. Jimin has come to covet such things, if only for the fact that he thrills in acquiring something that someone else wants so badly.

The eclectic collection now looks more ramshackle than anything, though, with the chaos of discarded clothing items and trinkets tossed about. If anyone else were to see his quarters, they might think him manic. All it would take is a simple flex of his power to right everything, to return all the clothing to their place in the armoire, and to neatly tuck his trinkets back onto the tansu in the corner.

Yet, he can’t bring himself to clean up. Not just yet, at least, he needs one more moment to enjoy this before seeing to the demanding call from above. The disorder offers comfort in its own way, something for his mind to focus on instead of the dreary, repetitive existence he seems to be trapped in. But, duty calls…unfortunately. Taking one last look around his quarters, absorbing the chaos of it all, he sighs and taps a forefinger against the side of his thigh, and in a flash, everything is as it should be.

Irritated now more than ever, he considers ignoring the call from up top for just a while longer, in spite of himself and the cleaning he just did. Not like it matters either way because whoever they are, they’re taking their sweet ass time getting to the good part. Intriguing, though, that there are two sets of footfalls. Typically people do these things on their own. But, Jimin doesn’t mind an audience. Maybe it’ll even be more exciting that way; he sure as hell could use it now.

It’s been some time since he was last called upon, but even longer than that since he had some genuine fun. Long gone are the days when the people who wanted to strike a deal actually asked for something worthwhile. No, it’s gone from selfless pleas for the health and prosperity of families to coveting millions of followers on Instagram for oneself or something equally as ridiculous—how utterly boring.

Though, he supposes, it’s no wonder humans have grown selfish, considering the world they’ve supposedly revolutionized for themselves. Sensationalized greed and loathing, poisoned with the bitter taste of caffeine and processed foods. Most would probably think that’s a treat to his kind; easy prey and all that. But, they couldn’t be more wrong.

Jimin sighs, rolling his head from side to side over his shoulders as if he could somehow rub away the itch now grating beneath his skin. His corporeal form is his preferred, even if it comes with its own set of limitations.

For instance, moving slower between his place in the underworld and up top. It burns as he wills his body to the surface. It’s a pain he welcomes, as a reminder that there is more to life than his servitude, and if he plays his cards right tonight, he’ll get to walk away with a special little treat in his pocket.

As soon as he surfaces, he flexes his power and suspends everything in the clearing in time. It gives him a moment to consider the offering and gather his bearings. Using a hand on the trunk of the tree to keep his balance, Jimin bends down and sifts through the dirt, fingers plucking the small, metal box from the earth.

The giant tree at his back is a comforting presence. It’s seen a fair amount of deals, his as well as others. Just a silent sentinel watching over each morsel of humanity bargained away. Which, thinking of that, Jimin shakes off his mental fog and refocuses on the two women standing before him.

They are both uniquely pleasing to Jimin’s eyes. He would enjoy sampling them both, given the chance. It���s a shame that’s not how these things go. Maybe if he’s persuasive enough, he can garner some sort of pleasure, even if it’s just taking in the smell of a second soul he won’t know the taste of.

Jimin bounces the tin in his hand for a second before thumbing open the lid. The contents are the usual bits and pieces. Well, usual at first glance. But, taking a closer look, he pauses…realizing there is something different about the clump of hair inside.

Sure, it’s purple, which makes it quite unique to begin with. But it’s more than that. Plucking out the hairs, Jimin brings them to his nose and gives a sniff. All reservations about tonight being any sort of mundane are quickly replaced with an assurance of fun and intrigue. Tucking the hair away and slipping the tin into his pocket, his mind begins to swirl.

He thought having an audience might make things interesting, but he never imagined this possibility in all his millennia; sure to be fun indeed. Resuming a demeanor of nonchalance, Jimin leans back against the tree and, with a flick of his wrist, allows most of the world around him to resume breathing once more.

😈😈😈

Mmm. Well, well, well, what do we have here? Two little mice come to play?

The voice is a seductive purr that licks across your psyche. It’s simultaneously inside your thoughts and in your ears, everywhere all at once. Dominique is frozen where she stands before the tree, her hands tightly fisted at her sides. She doesn’t so much as appear to be breathing.

You whip around, trying to seek the source of the voice, but your best friend is the only other being you can see in the clearing.

“W-who’s th-there?” you choke out through quivering vocal cords. “Dominique? Dom, let’s just go!”

The few steps you have to take in order to grab Dominique by the arm feel like miles with the way your feet shuffle sluggishly. It feels like you’re wading through thick mud instead of meadow grass.

As soon as your fingers brush her arm, an electric shock zings up your arm, and the scream that bursts from your lungs is a mix of pain and terror. The same instant the zap surges up your arm, a man appears lazily leaning against the tree trunk. You’re certain he wasn’t there before.

Oh. How deliciously interesting. The same voice from before reverberates through your mind and echoes in your ears. One contract. Yet…I taste the essence of two distinct souls. He pushes off from the tree and cocks his head to the side, inhuman vermillion eyes lock on Dominique in consideration.

Ignoring the fiery burn where your skin touches hers, you tug on Dominique’s arm, but no matter how hard you pull, she doesn’t budge. “Dom, this isn’t funny! Let’s go, now!” Your words are edging on hysterical. Tears of fright flood your lashline, causing you to blink rapidly to try and keep a clear eye on the strange man. “You stay away from her!”

Those haunting scarlet eyes flick in your direction, and a sly smile hooks up one corner of his pouty mouth. He doesn’t move any closer, but you’d swear that if your eyes were closed, the sweeping sensation that you feel caressing the apple of your cheek is his fingers. Fear not for your friend, little mouse. It is you that you should be concerned for. In all my millennia, never before have I come across a free soul. Tell me, is this simply a mistake, or is it intentional? Either way, I think I’ll enjoy this…yes, I think I’ll enjoy this very much.

“Oh my god. Holy shit, I did it,” Dominique whispers. Her body sways like she suddenly was released from whatever was making her immobile. The way she stares at the man with wide eyes and a half smile, you wonder if she’s even registered the last few minutes that have passed. “Look! Look, do you see him? A fucking demon! I did it!” She whoops with glee, stamping her feet in clear excitement.

“What the fuck, Dom?! Let’s get out of here!”

You try to yank on her arm again, but she shrugs you off this time, giving you another one of those disgruntled looks. “And lose this opportunity? No fucking way.” She shoos your hands away and whips her phone from her pocket, immediately thumbing to the camera and begins to film.

A solid presence at your back keeps you from taking a step backward. It feels like you’re pressed against a wall. “Dom, please!”

The man takes another step forward, coming within just a few feet of where Dominique is standing. His eyes catch the moonlight and flash like twin blood red rubies. Dark, coifed hair frames his smooth forehead, and his pert nose leads to lips that are full and glossy.

If there ever was someone that embodied all the devious, lust-filled thoughts in the world; this would be them. “A real demon,” Dom breathes. “My very own demon.”

The man—demon—tuts softly, wagging a dainty finger in the air. “I belong to no one, least of all to a sweet, little field mouse like you. If anything, it’s one of you that belongs to me.” It’s the same voice that was threading through your mind just moments before, only now it’s crystal clear and fills only your ears; it’s sweet like honeyed music. A significant contrast to the wicked words themselves.

Dominique laughs. “Me belong to you? Riiiight. Pretty sure that’s not how this works. I summoned you, demon.”

“Be that as it may, you’re not the only little mouse here,” the demon chuckles darkly. He turns slowly, his eyes cutting in your direction. “It is, in fact, your delicious friend here that seems to be caught in my web without a way out. Imagine my surprise when I’m summoned here, only to discover that there are two souls but just one contract. Seems someone made a grave mistake, judging by how she quivers just so.” You watch as the demon comes closer, pulling something from his pocket. It’s the tin, you realize, as the silver exterior flashes in the moonlight.

“What are you talking about?” You and Dominique ask at the same time.

With a thumb, the demon flicks open the small mint tin, exposing the cluster of items within. He pinches the strands of purple hair between his thumb and forefinger, pulling them from the tin. “It’s a shame, really. I assume you didn’t pull these directly from your pretty head,” he muses, devilish eyes flicking at Dom. “A brush or a comb perhaps…one that your friend may have also used a time or two.”

Dominique absently pats at her hair, fingers coiling around a few of the stray strands of purple—the same purple as your own hair—that have escaped her buns. Cold dread pours down your spine and fills your belly until you think you might be sick.

“Dom…tell me he’s not saying what I think he’s saying.”

Her breathing grows erratic, but she provides no response or affirmations for you. Because you both know exactly what happened. You watched as she plucked purple strands of hair from the boar bristle brush. A brush that you have used in a pinch a few times when you couldn’t find your own.

“B-but, she’s…she’s not the one that summoned you. I did. This is my contract, my blood sacrifice!”

The demon hums, tilting his head side to side in a thoughtful, so-so manner. “That’s the interesting part. Well, interesting for me, more’s the pity for you. You see, the blood you so graciously added to this tin here—” he gives the now closed box a little shake “—affords your soul some safety. However, without that…well, an unprotected soul is just so tantalizing and ripe for the plucking.”

“NO!” Dominique screams, throwing up her hands and stepping in front of you as if she can shield you from your fate. “I’ll do anything you want. This—this, um, my deal…yes, my deal is you have to leave my friend alone. I want to protect her soul. You can’t have her, that’s what I want!”

He throws his head back, crowing to the moon with maniacal laughter. The tailored suit jacket and white shirt covering his torso gleam as his whole body shakes. The grass beneath his shiny loafers begins to dance and sway, almost like flickering flames. The sight he presents terrifies you.

“Oh, this is going to be good,” he finally says after his laughter trails off. He smooths his hands down the lapels of his jacket as if to compose himself. “You’re essentially asking for the price of a soul. Which, being generous, is quite priceless to begin with. Anyone would be hard-pressed to give up such a delightful treat. Let’s see—” he  tucks his hands into his trouser pockets and paces a few steps away before turning back “—I think, and mind you, this is being quite nice considering…sixty years would suffice.”

“Sixty years?! Sixty years of what?”

Before the demon can answer, Dominique explains in his stead, “My life. Sixty years of my life in exchange for your soul.”

“In exchange for…what? What the actual hell is going on? Neither of us is going anywhere with this fucking psycho! Let’s just get out of here, Dom!”

Angry tears sting your eyes, but you don’t even care to stop them from sliding down your cheeks as you desperately try to pull Dominique backward. That solid, impenetrable presence is still behind you, but you ram your shoulder against it over and over, grunts of frustration ripping from your throat.

“It’s no use,” Dominique resigns with a sigh. “Neither of us can leave before the deal is sealed.”

“This is nonsense! A cruel prank. Give it up, Dom, it’s not funny!” you beg, yanking at her arm. “Just stop!”

“I can’t move,” she tells you, and you watch as her body sways on the spot like she’s trying to lift her feet but cannot. “I’m sorry, okay? I am so sorry.”

“But, it’s not real. It can’t be real! You said so yourself that this wouldn’t work! Sixty years, Dom, you’ll die!” Desperation colors your words, your voice cracking from the intensity.

Dominique turns her head to look at you, her lips parted as if she’s about to speak, but she freezes once again. It’s like she’s turned into a statue, a macabre wax replica of herself.

Calm yourself, little mouse. There is no need to panic. If the taste of her soul is any indication, she will agree with my terms. Sixty years of her life in exchange for letting you scamper away back into your little burrow, soul intact.

“She’s thirty, if you take sixty years, she’d…that’s not fair! There has to be another way.” You lick your dry lips and can feel the demon watching the quick swipe of your tongue as you do so.

One moment he is a few feet away, and the next, he’s crowding into your space, forcing you back against the invisible barrier behind you. The acrid scent of brimstone and burnt matches clogs your nose, carrying with it the subtlest hint of citrus bite.

Up this close, you’re able to see just how deep red his eyes are and how utterly flawless the expanse of his face is. The pointed tips of his canines peek out as his lips pull back in a rictus grin.

That is my price, human. Your friend gives me sixty years of her life right now and I’ll leave you alone. Perhaps, if you’re lucky, she’ll be healthy and cognisant long enough for you to say goodbye.

“And if she says no, if she doesn’t agree?” you ask in a shaky whisper.

In that case, you become mine…wholly and completely. You see, your friend was careless in her dabbling, naive and truly laughable, honestly. Such wasted potential. A sound similar to a sigh feathers through the explanation, and you can see the demon roll his eyes as if he’s annoyed with the revelation.

“Wholly and completely? Not protected?”

The blood sacrifice that is needed for summoning demons is a way to bind a demon to the rules of the crossroads. It means we’re not allowed to bring untoward harm to those we are summoned by. However, because your friend decided to be lazy and pull hair from a brush instead of from her head, combined with the lack of your blood inside that little tin, well…you’re not protected by those rules. Meaning, if I wasn’t such a nice fiend, I’d have gobbled up your sad soul the instant it was presented to me. Which is exactly what I’ll do if your friend says no.

You can tell he’s trying to make it seem like it’s Dominique’s fault. And, maybe, in many ways, it is, but you also feel responsible for indulging in this madness in the first place. But, it also seems far too simple, like— “That seems like a really shitty loophole,” you say aloud, echoing your internal sentiment. “How do I know you’re not just saying that to try and trick me? I’ve read about demons, they’re known to be liars and con artists.”

The demon reaches out and tugs lightly on a stray lock of your hair, making you hiss in pain. “At least you’re cute and smart. But, if you insist.”

He steps back, putting much-needed space between your body and his, though it puts him closer to Dominique, and your fingers itch to shove him farther away from her. Not that you think you even could. He might look slight in build, but you know it’s not his physique you’d have to contend with, but whatever demonic magick he has.

With a flick of his wrist, a giant scroll unfurls in the air. Several feet of winding parchment swirl around you. It settles on the ground in great heaps, one end held in his fingertips and the other lost somewhere among the waves. He snaps the fingers of his other hand, and Dominique completes her turn toward you, confusion instantly furrowing her brow. Whatever she was going to say dies on her tongue.

“What the fuck?” she asks absently as she looks down at the yards of paper covering the toes of her combat boots.

“Perhaps you’ll be interested in this as well,” he says, gesturing with the paper in her direction. “Considering this is your contract, after all. You both should be thanking me for this opportunity, I don’t typically do this. But, with it being a special circumstance, I figured I’d indulge before any hasty decisions are made. Go on, read between the lines. Because, as they say, the devil—well, demon,” he chuckles lightly at his own joke, “—is in the details.”

😈😈😈

Jimin

It’s cute watching the two mortals actually attempt to read the contract. The contract is written in The Dark Tongue, the language spoken by all daemon-kind, but with a little trickle of power, it appears in whatever language is necessary for the reader.

“How are we supposed to read and comprehend all this nonsense? It’s worse than reading a legal document. All of it sounds made up, jargon that a group of kids came up with or something,” you mutter under your breath.

Jimin has yet to learn your name. It would be easy to reach into your mind, or the mind of Dominique—whose name you inadvertently, yet conveniently, provided to him—and pluck it out. But, for some reason, he wishes for you to be the one to tell him on your own. 

Dominique fumbles with a length of the contract, frantically skimming. “I-I don’t know. Look, I’ll…I’ll just take it. This is my fault, my fuck up. I can’t let you be punished for something I was so careless over. It doesn’t matter what any of this says,” she shakes the contract, “because there are probably too many hidden meanings, and…you’re not going to pay for what I’ve done.”

“What? No, Dom. Shut up, okay. You don’t get to talk like that.” Your voice is thready and thin, breaking as you plead with her.

“I don’t have a choice here. I have to make a deal, regardless,” Dom mutters. She moves in close to you, her eyes flicking over to Jimin before she leans in even closer, putting her mouth close to your ear.

It takes tremendous effort for Jimin not to roll his eyes at the action. They could be miles away, whispering, and he would still be able to hear them. He listens as they start to try to devise a plan that involves keeping both of their souls. Jimin can taste the conviction in Dominique, and knows that no matter what, she’s not going to just let you go. Not without a fight, at least. But, she has the right of it. She can’t leave this glade without signing on the dotted lines. Whether on this contract or a different one.

Finally, after several minutes, the contract forgotten on the ground; it seems that Dominique and you have come up with some sort of plan. Jimin tuned out most of it, not really caring one way or another. It wouldn’t change his offer or what is required tonight.

“It’s okay, Dom. It’s going to be okay,” you reassure her in a soft voice. “I trust you.”

As Jimin swings his attention back up, letting the two figures come into focus, he makes a mental note that the tears shining in Dominique’s eyes are not mirrored in your own. Your back is straight, chin jutting out in what appears to be an attempt at courage. It’s delightful to see that you’re not a complete jellyfish.

“So, ladies, are you satisfied?”

You swallow audibly, but your resolve doesn’t wither as you stare him in the eye and shake your head. “I have a new offer, different parameters.”

Jimin suppresses the laughter that fills his chest. “Well, let’s hear it, then.”

“Before we start, w-we—I want…I want to make sure this new deal guarantees that she’s unharmed,” Dominique's voice quivers as she speaks.

One of Jimin’s perfect brows arches in curiosity. “Go on.”

“She’s not giving up sixty years of her life. That is not happening. So, I’ll go with you, but under the condition that you allow us to see each other in person once a week, right here in this clearing for as long as the moon is in the sky. Just so she knows I’m okay.” Your sass is appealing. Jimin had thought you were the more demure one of the two, but it seems maybe he was wrong.

He contemplates for a moment, considering the new parameters. “Once a year.”

“No, that’s not good enough. A lot can happen in a year. Twice a month.”

The fact you’re not even trying to bargain for your life, just time, at this point, is amusing to Jimin. It’s not often he gets to barter. Most humans just take his initial deal and think they have no other options.

“Twice a year,” he counters, interested in what you’ll suggest next, though he can feel himself grow tired with the prospect of the back-and-forth already. His intrigue instantly takes a dive.

You shake your head, accepting the hand that Dominique offers you. Your fingers squeeze around hers as tears begin to fall down her cheeks. “Once a month. Please. That isn’t asking much, I wouldn’t think.”

“Once a quarter.”

“No. No. Once a month! And you only keep her for three years,” Dominique states, her tone more demanding than he feels is warranted considering the situation. He pointedly ignores her.

“Please,” you implore, looking vulnerable for the first time since you discovered his desire for sixty years of Dominique’s life in exchange for your soul.

Jimin’s eyes flash with annoyance. “You do realize I could simply end this farce? All it would take is a snap of my fingers—” his eyes blaze with flames for a second as they bore into yours, his voice growing harsher “—and you’d be mine while your friend was left floundering. Do not think to press this any further. I will keep her for ten years and not a day less. You may have your once-a-month meeting and the only person in this sad existence who will remember you exist is her.” He flicks a hand in Dominique’s direction, making her flinch.

😈😈😈

Knowing Dominique will be safe is a relief. But the prospect of everyone in your life ceasing to know you exist is another blow you weren’t expecting. In fact, you were hoping to use that to your advantage. If Dominique could go back and file a missing persons report, it might help somehow. But now…now, that’s another option off the table.

Ten years. That’s seemingly an unfathomable amount of time now that you’re facing it; more akin to an eternity as far as you’re concerned. But, you try to remain hopeful. Whatever happens at the end of those ten years is something you’re not certain you have the mental capacity to think about right now.

You did your best to keep your voice low when you put your head together with Dom’s, not sure whether or not the demon would be able to overhear your exchange. You told Dom that she can’t give up sixty years. That you would rather endure a few years of servitude to the demon in the chance that she could discover a way to free you. If anyone could do that, you know it would be her.

She has sworn to do all that she can to see you released from his grasp. Even if she has to summon every crossroads demon between here and the other side of the world, she’s vowed to do just that. The first thing she’s going to do when she leaves his clearing is call her Grann and tell her everything. You’re confident that even if this demon erases you from everyone else’s memory, Grann will believe Dom regardless.

You straighten your spine, giving Dom’s hand a squeeze before untangling your fingers from hers. “Accept the deal, Dom. This is how it has to be.”

“I-I can’t do that,” Dominique whispers, her voice cracking with emotion. “Please don’t make me do that.”

“Dom, you have to.” You turn to her, soaking in the sight of her beautiful face while you can. “I trust you,” you say the words slowly, enunciating clearly in hopes she gets your meaning. “I’ll see you in one month, okay? One month.”

Dom’s lips tremble as they open to form the word of acquiescence. The one word that will seal your fate and her guilt.

“Yes.”

“So be it.” Jimin flicks his wrist, and the contract retracts back into its rolled-up form. He unfurls it again in the same movement, displaying it once again before you and Dominique. “Each month on this same day, we shall return here for precisely one hour’s time. Whether you show or not is your own prerogative,” Jimin directs that at Dominique before turning his gaze and focusing back on you. “You will be mine. Body, mind, and soul. You will not disobey me, you will not hesitate to do as I tell you, and you will never question me. If you do, this contract will be void, and I’ll spend the rest of eternity making you regret ever befriending this poor excuse of a witch. Is that clear?”

“Ye—” Dominique jolts forward, her free hand slapping over your mouth and cutting you off.

“Don’t. Don’t you say anything. He’s trying to trick you into an agreement that is separate from mine. You don’t have to agree to anything, don’t let him lull you into things like that. Please,” she beseeches, “be vigilant. Do not accept anything he says at face value. Always think before you agree.” Dom tears her eyes from yours, training them on the being watching your exchange. “Hear me, demon. You’ll do well to remember the first part of my demand: I want her unharmed. If she has so much as a single hair out of place the next time I see her, I swear—”

The tip of his nose twitches as his lips mash into a thin line before cutting her off, “Best hold your tongue, witch, lest I cut it out for daring to tout such nonsense. As if I would breach the terms of a contract. She will be unharmed. I may be a demon, but that does not make me a monster nor a cheat.”

Dom gives you one last searching look. You nod, letting her know it’s okay.

“I’ve already agreed, demon. Let’s finish this.” And, so, with a prick of Dominique’s thumb and a smear of blood, it’s finished…all because your best friend buried a box.

Next Chapter⇾ ◅ Back to story masterlist

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2024-06-26 ColorMePurplex2

[jazzyblusnowflake]

I've got one for ya. What were the first kisses in the N/V/Uzi relationship like. Uzi and N first, Uzi and V's first, and V and N's first.

(Bonus points for V and N's first kiss at the manner for some bittersweet angst)

Also, good golly gumdrops, love your stuff, even if you don't answer this one, still gonna keep enjoying

oh oh i love these kinds of ideas :"D tho it takes a bit of brain power to think of a good scene uhm.... lessee....

Ok so first up, although im still waiting for a canon first kiss for NUzi- since they are a thing now, i still like to think of something separate for my own version- [since obviously the main show isn't going towards a poly dynamic lmao]

See, we all know that the show is fast paced and its hard to find any empty spaces between each event, hell it almost feels like earth was blown apart and the DDs were on copper 9 the next day, Liam we need a fucking timeline order. 🙄 soooooo i personally like to imagine that there's a lot more time between events than is shown in the actual show. like- lets maybe put a few days between Uzi administrating N and V and the arrival of J and Cynessa- like.... maybe lets put a few NIGHTS between that??? what's the freaking rush 😭

But anyway yeah- i would put the first NUzi kiss somewhere around betwenn the camp and the flashback eps probably :p my idea would be that since the camp incidents, Uzi would be having a lot of bodily changes to deal with, one of which being her inability to tolerate the sun much anymore. other things would probably be the growth of literal flesh and blood and bones inside of her and lets make this morbid by adding her throwing up blood but keeping it a secret from everyone :p she may sneak back to the other two at night and stay with them- clearly shaken up- [V probably also being shaken up because on one hand she's terrified of seeing this transformation take place- but at the same time, she clearly cares enough about Uzi AND Ns happiness...] asking for help and advice- and the 3 grow closer during this. They practice with her for flying or controlling her tail- maybe some stuff on her control on oil hunger too. she probably also gets some fighting, sneaking and sparring practice with V-

//insert one of those cheesy moments where V riles up Uzi enough to tag her on the snowy ground but then realizes its the same position she got V in her solver!mode and starts panicking and pushing herself back- V getting back up and asking what the heck was that and Uzi just saying she doesn't want to hurt her and V is an insensitive jerk for making her spar with her in the first place and tries to fly away to calm down-..... which probably just ended with her falling face first in the snow and a lecture from both N and V.

overall they all started subconsciously getting even closer. tbh there's so many things i could add here but i gotta keep it a few NIGHTS not a few MONTHS until the next event 😭

either way during this i guess N and Uzi could have maybe ended up alone at some point- maybe after a flying lesson having gone right and they were a little too happy on top of a building or upturned bus or something lol- i imagine after a hug maybe Uzi asks if she could kiss N but quickly backtracks saying nvm it was stupid or something but N softly says its okay- //probably picks her up too, adding to her embarrassment- cuz she's short lmaooooo// and Uzi just decides to give a small unsure smooch- but decided to make it not too long. they decided to just hug after that to not let the other see them blushing like hell 😭 [also they didn't really decide anything after this cuz they are idiots????😭😭😭]

but anyway for the Vuzi first kiss i have no idea if or when V would return if she's been set to remain alive in the canon- but for me its probably when she appears again in her normal form, as herself. not a clone. Alice isn't alive to take the cores and make them sluggish with heat and the sentinels wouldn't have a chance against the solvers centipede lookin ass form.

Anyway if we consider that one way or another Uzi, N and V will meet up again, [and N and Uzi preferably get to share a better kiss this time-] the first thing Uzi is doing is landing a swift punch in Vs face and then kissing the daylights out of her- //confusing herself and everyone in the area in the process including V herself...// overall she would scold V on the whole "i trust you" shtick and leaving them alone- but yeah :p [ keep in mind that im also considering a few nights between when J and Cynessa show up and when they decide to actually go and find and search the labs, because PLOT REASONS :D ]

as for the first Envee kiss- ill do you one better and make it more angsty and say that N and V used to always spend time with each other and do silly things like hold hands in secret or send internal chat messages to eachother, draw and read books together- maybe N used to put flowers for her sometimes. But at some point a certain little corrupted drone started feeling possessive of her favorite "big brother" figure not spending time with her anymore...

one time, N had asked V if he could kiss her and at that they were both blushing messes but before V could respond they get interrupted- maybe by someone giving them orders or maybe by Cyn. either way, V quickly whispers to him "later, i promise" with a smile, making N happy and giddy. but the later never comes... V becomes comatose soon after... N sadly reading books to her and sometimes whispering to her to wake up and that she still has to keep her promise...

anyway after all things are said and done in the future and the solver is defeated- whether they are still living on copper 9 or any other planet idk- N, V and Uzi are all close, but since both N and V are close to Uzi, they also start spending more time with each other too. maybe one time on a walk or going out and about N was able to catch up with V and they reminisce about old memories they can now remember; and when V was finally able to open up a bit to N, he mentions that he still remembers the promise and asks her if he could kiss her again and she lets him.

and thaaaats all the brain power i have for tonight... i think... hope it made yall smile or cry or idk something lmao. :")

[thefanciestborrower]

The Devouring of Prometheus

Ohh boy this fic has been over a year in the making and by golly am I proud of it. It was mostly an attempt to imitate Mary Shelley’s writing style while adding more classic lit vore into the world cause oh boy do we need it. This fic is a little darker than my usual fluffy stuff because. You know. It’s Frankenstein. But everything is still safe despite what Victor thinks. Anyways, please enjoy and let me know what you think!

Warnings: Contains soft, safe, unwilling vore, mentions of digestion, mentions of dying, mentions of cannon character death, minor injury, and vomit

Characters: Victor Frankenstein and the Creature

Word Count: 2,830

Mankind has no greater fear than that of being devoured. It is an instinctual fear, engrained deep within our very beings from the moment we are born, as it is in every living being, and yet it is perhaps one of the most uncommon fears to experience in its true, unaltered form. We are quite familiar with the notion of being killed and eaten by a wild beast, since such a thing, while not terribly common in the more civilized parts of the world, is often talked of in books and by explorers returning from long voyages to strange, wild lands. It is a threat to be sure, but perhaps not the most fear inspiring one. A hungry lion might indeed pounce upon you with his teeth and claws bared as if to shred you to ribbons while you lay awake in agony, but in truth he is far more merciful than even most men and will end you swiftly with a bite to the neck before he ever starts to feed. The fear of being eaten in this way, then, is diluted by the promise of a swift death at the claws of a creature who bore you no more malice than you do a butchered duck. 

The terror of being consumed lies not in the act of consumption, but in the method. Stories full of giants and ogres who devour men whole and alive fill the countryside and take captive the minds of all who hear them, filling their dreams with images of gnashing teeth and slavering mouths, capable of sending a grown man down, kicking and screaming, in a single swallow. I must confess I never heard much of these tales growing up, aside from a few Clerval was so fond of telling, and when they did reach my ears, I simply scoffed, laughing such frightening images away in the clear light of day when nothing could seem more ridiculous. They were children’s tales, I thought, simply meant to frighten and entertain, for nothing, man or beast, could swallow whole a living man. Oh, how I wish I had been right. 

He came for me in the night. I was asleep, or nearly so, when a sudden noise at my window startled me awake. At first I assumed it to be the scratching of a branch or perhaps even some night creature making its rounds through the garden outside. After all, I was far more unfamiliar with the Oxford landscape than my dear friend Clerval, who had spent much of his afternoon exploring the grounds, so I felt there to be no need for concern. Indeed, I had nearly turned over to drift back to sleep when I saw his eyes. Those wretched, sunken, yellow eyes staring as if into my very soul through the dusty window I had neglected to lock in my naivety. I might have screamed had fear not grasped my throat and strangled my voice, and though I longed to run, terror turned my legs to lead and forced me to watch as the fiend pried open the window with a delicate ease that seemed almost laughable compared to the rest of his hulking mass. I pulled my sheet up to shield my chest like a child might, entertaining fantasies that perhaps this was simply a nightmare, and if I remained still in my bed then he would be unable to harm me, but when he began to climb through the window with the elegance of a lion stalking his prey, eyes never once leaving me, panic settled over my heart and I realized this was no mere conjuring of an overworked mind. The beast was here, looming over me in my chambers as I trembled in bed with naught but a thin sheet and even thinner night clothes to protect me. 

“Devil! What do you want from me!” I cried at last, terror loosening her claws from my throat. “I have not forgotten our agreement, so why do you insist on tormenting me so!” 

I received no reply, the beast more than content to simply stare at my trembling form. Perhaps he enjoyed how weak I must have appeared before him as his eyes flicked over me, almost sizing me up for reasons I could never have comprehended in that moment. Cold and yellow as they were, I could see an inkling of some mysterious emotion behind those eyes, but it’s identity I couldn’t say. Nor did I care. My thoughts were quickly preoccupied as he advanced upon me, padding forwards like some great and terrible cat, until he stopped just shy of the side of my bed, so close I could have reached out and touched him. 

Again, I saw that strange emotion flicker behind his dead eyes, but before I had time to ponder it he wrapped his hands around my chest and lifted me from the safety of my bed with terrifying ease, like one might lift a small child or a doll, and while I screamed and writhed in his hideous grasp, his hold only tightened. My ribs creaked and complained under the pressure and my cries became strangled and choked. With a ghastly popping sound he opened his grotesque mouth, jaw hanging at an angle too wide for any human to achieve, and to my upmost horror he quickly stuffed my head inside with the terrifying efficiency of a ravenous beast. The slimy muscle of his tongue lapped against my face and my body convulsed in disgust as I desperately fought not to be sick. Revolting as my situation was, I did not wish to add my own vomit to the mix, even if it might have disgusted the fiend enough to free me. 

I could see nothing but darkness, each desperate gasp for oxygen only supplying me with the barest sliver of foul air. Teeth ringed my neck like a terrible collar, and for a moment I entertained ideas of those teeth, the very same I had picked and sorted by hand, crashing together to sever my head from my body like some terrible executioner. Before my thoughts could spiral much more in this direction, his grip changed and I was suddenly shoved against the slick, fleshy opening of his throat. My blood curdled and, with a sudden, crushing pressure, my head was crammed downwards in the most painful manner which caused me to cry out in despair. My skull felt as though it would shatter, and I screamed a horrible, terrible shriek of agony and terror as my shoulders were crushed down after me, the tight gullet of the beast threatening to break them into splinters. My vision swam, stars of pain and lack of breath sparking and dancing before my eyes, and though no light followed me into my hellish prison, I could still see the blackest pitch wavering at the edge of my vision, threatening to drown me in its inky embrace. For a moment I wished it would, if only to keep me from the terrible suffering I knew lay before me, but fate is a cruel mistress and before I could sink into that comforting ocean of darkness a terrible pressure bloomed upon the crown of my head and forced me into an open pocket of stinking, putrid air. 

Coughing and gaging I struggled to draw even a single breath. My ribs, now horribly compressed, creaked and shuttered terribly under the pressure of the creature’s throat, and though my legs still flailed outside, and my hands desperately scrambled for a hold on what I felt to be his chin, I did not dare move the length of my compressed torso for fear of inflicting more damage upon myself. Another painful swallow jolted me down, my face jamming roughly into what I presumed to be the bottom of the creature’s dreadful stomach, and the grotesque flesh not only yielded to accept my presence, but did so with an almost pleased sounding groan, if stomachs can be pleased, as if I really were simply a morsel of food to be consumed and forgotten. The sound filled my heart with a terror I’ve never known, and I cried out, though my voice was quickly silenced by the slick flesh as more of my body was squeezed through that terrifically tight ring of muscle and forced to bend and twist to fit my new prison like some sort of contortionist. 

I know not how long it took the devil to consume me: the darkness of my surroundings and constant pain dulled my senses and left me disoriented to the point where I no longer could even tell up from down. I remember no longer feeling the cold air on my body after some time, my entire being now encased in sweltering heat, and searing pain as my legs were crushed down against my ribs. Finally, it was all over. My entire body had been fully compacted into the creature’s stomach, and although this new development was arguably a much worse position than my previous one, I was far too preoccupied with gulping down precious lungfuls of oxygen to care.

Then, all at once, the reality of my situation came crashing down upon me and with the fervor of a cornered beast I began to lash out and fight, twisting and turning in the confined space in hopes of causing my captor at least the slightest bit of discomfort. 

“Fiend! Devil! Release me at once!” I panted, gnashing my teeth in fear and anger. “This is no way to treat any man, let alone your maker!”

I had no doubt that he could hear my cries and feel my struggles, confined as I was, and yet no answer came. Despite the nature of my location, I was completely and utterly alone, for what man pays attention to his food after he’s eaten it. Again, I tried to call out, to plead for release as I fought against the smothering flesh, and again I was ignored, save for a light pressure against my back from which I hastily jerked away. It was his hand; I knew it instinctively. The brute was no doubt relaxing after so fine a feast of human flesh, and that touch was nothing more then the satisfied gloating of a predator now sated with a filling meal that would last him far longer than any morsel of bread or wine. I was merely something to be enjoyed, digested, and forgotten.

 How many more, I wondered, would be lost in the same way once I had perished. Clearly my current location indicated my captor had grown fond of the taste of human, and with a heart wrenching shudder I suddenly realized I had no way of knowing wether I was the first victim of the monster’s appetite, or if he had already glutted himself with other gentle country folk, just as he had done to me, and I was now resting in their grave. The thought was too much for my already distraught and troubled soul, and the disgust which filled me suddenly became too overwhelming to sustain. With a thick heave I proceeded to retch onto myself, my sick mixing with the beast’s own bile, and I sobbed bitterly for my home. 

“Oh, my dear mountains and precious lake. Will I truly never again delight in your sweet air and radiant beauty? Am I to perish so far from all that is fair and wholesome, without even the cold stars to bare witness to my demise?” I lamented; my voice thick with the grief of a man who believes he is to die isolated from everything he once held dear. 

The spongy flesh seemed to mute my voice effectively as a heavy curtain might, and my words fell upon deaf ears, for no reply came from my creation. My captor. My killer. Was I really to meet my end as nothing more than a meal? My last breath tainted by the stench of bile and vomit? The pressure to my back returned, and although the touch revolted me, I was far too exhausted from my fear and the quickly thinning oxygen to do more than twitch in protest. What difference would it make anyways, my fate was already sealed.

Each breath I drew grew more ragged and gasping with every passing second, my panic having done nothing but quickly use up what little air I had in the stale cell, and in some fever, I realized that, although my air was quickly thinning, I had not yet begun to feel the slightest tingle of digestion. Oh, what sweet twist of fate was this! I still would meet my end as nothing more than a morsel of food this was true, but I would be long since unconscious and perhaps even suffocated before acids truly began to work on me and thus spared the sensation of digesting alive. It was a small assurance, but so consumed was I by grief and terror of my fate that even the small mercy of a painless death brought me comfort. It was more than a man like me deserved after all I’d done. The innocent blood on the creature’s hands stained mine as well, and I thought bitterly of poor darling little William and dear Justine. Their blood has been spilt on my account, and yet, while their deaths had been horrific tragedies, I took solace in knowing they had left the world far quicker than I would, and that I would be seeing them again soon.

My vision swam before me, and with one last shuddering sigh I slumped against the slick walls, no longer attempting to catch my breath, for what would be the point in trying to breathe when there is no air left to fill my lungs. The stomach clenched around me with a disgusting squelch, smothering and squeezing my helpless form as it worked to knead what I presumed to be caustic acids into my sodden clothing and soft flesh, preparing for the undoubtably difficult task of liquifying my un-masticated body. With a gasping, barely audible sob I pressed a trembling hand out against my churning prison walls, cursing my creation and praying my end would be swift. Then the darkness engulfed me, and I knew no more.

Due to the circumstances in which I had fallen unconscious I fully expected to never wake again, so when I started awake some unknown amount of time later in the very bed I had been snatched out of, I could seldom comprehend what was happening. My first thought was that my horrendous experience had been naut but a dream; an apparition brought upon me by the dreadful task I knew I would soon be required to complete. Then I became aware of the disgusting film of sticky, foul smelling sick coating my body and the dull, yet throbbing pain in my ribs, and my blood ran cold. It had been no dream. My creation truly had assaulted me in the night, swallowed me whole and alive, and, by some miracle, vomited me back out before his digestive system could process me. In fact, aside from my ribs, which were badly bruised, I appeared whole and unharmed. Not even a drop of acid had singed my clothes, and my skin was fair and unblemished as it had always been. I pressed a hand to my cheek as if to make certain of my unharmed state, and then, to my own surprise, I began to laugh. It was not a mirthful laugh, but rather one of incredulous shock and relief as I grasped at my warm and unharmed skin. So certain had I been that those final moments filled with slimy blackness and foul reeking air inside the creature would be my last that the cold air of my room and the sting of my nails against my face might well have been gifts from Heaven itself. Even now I marvel at my incredible escape and wonder what could possibly have prompted the monster to give up as filling a meal as I surely must have been. I do not think I shall ever know, but judging from the healthy nature which I possessed upon waking, I can only assume he realized he could not process me as he intended and his body expelled me, though wether such an expulsion was voluntary on his part I still could not say. Nonetheless I knew I was no doubt incredibly fortunate to have survived such an encounter and my resolve had the been strengthened. Where before I had postponed my promise, I vowed to not do so again, for who knew how long the wretched beast would be content to wait and leave me and others be. As soon as I was able, I would set to work creating another who would contain his terrible urges and put this dreadful encounter behind me forever. 

[chronicbeans]

I know this might sound weird but hear me out- I just saw a post of a home if he was humanized and now I came with this idea: How will wally react to reader flirting with home? Specially after it locked both of them and reader is desperate to get out? I'm sorry if this has grammar mistakes! English is not my first language.

Yippee! This is an interesting idea!

Wally Darling Reacting to Reader Flirting with Home:

TW: Captivity

🍎 It is day... neither of you know, now. Home hasn't let either of you out in so long. Wally has been clinging onto you, as if you are the only thing keeping him from completely breaking down. The worst part is, you are pretty sure that is the case. You have seen how he has acted if you are out of his sight for just a moment. He completely breaks down, thinking that you somehow escaped and abandoned him.

🍎 You know you have to do SOMETHING to get either you or him out of here. You remember all those movies you watched before Wally dragged you here, where one person seduces another person to get what they want. You don't know how you would seduce a house, and you have never even seduced a human before, but it is worth a shot!

🍎 You lean against one of the various tables, looking at the wallpaper. You take the first thing that comes to mind, and try to say it in the smoothest way possible.

🍎"That's some... uh... very attractive wallpaper you have, Home! Very uh... colorful and... full of patterns..." ... oh GOLLY THAT WAS HORRIBLE.

🍎 It seems to get the attention of Home, at least, as you feel its eyes looking at you. You smile wearily as you hear a creak. You don't know if it is good or bad, but you continue. "Yeah...! You must um... have a very high property value! Realtors would be dying to get a hold of you, because they would make millions! Heheheh..."

🍎 Meanwhile, Wally peeks into the room, his little puppet heart shattering! How dare you flirt with the enemy like that?! Are you that desperate to leave him? He can't take the sight, sprinting upstairs and to his room, tripping over his own feet as he does so. He's going to mope all day, now.

🍎 The idea wouldn't work, though. If anything, you would only want to make Home keep you longer. Its not necessarily that it likes you for the compliments and flirtation, it just finds the attempt funny. So, you are going to be stuck here for a while. That means you are going to have to deal with a heartbroken Wally who feels betrayed by your actions.