#im literally just trying to hold people accountable for their actions
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But he’s stressing you out so much! I was continuing to talk to someone who wasn’t good for me for a long time. They did something that basically changed our whole dynamic forever. She said sorry and wasn’t a bad version but what’s done couldn’t be undone. I lied to myself for years before I could move on from them. Some people just aren’t good for us. You can’t hope people into doing the right thing. I just hope you’re making decisions to put yourself and your mental health first. I worry about you.
see that’s the thing though i don’t want to believe that the person i thought i knew was a lie because until very recently i have had zero reason to think badly about them at all and it was literally one thing that just kind of made me question everything. and like we’ve always been great at communicating and being open or at least i thought we were but literally this one thing flipped everything on its head and i just can’t get a straight answer out of anyone and it’s frustrating because like im an understanding person. like i just want honesty and proof that im not as crazy as everyone is gaslighting me into believing i am. and everyone keeps saying they care about me but they do fuck all to prove it. that’s literally all i want is some sort of solid proof from everyone i am having issues with because they’re literally overlapping at this point to just be honest with me. i don’t care about the outcome anymore I’ve said all i can say and it’s literally up to them to talk to me now and put forth the effort that they were lacking and prove to me me that its all in my head and ive told them that. they know what they have to do and i have told them time and time again i want to work through this because i do believe we had a good relationship and i do believe them on a lot of things because they’ve given me zero reason not to other than this one thing it’s literally a matter of don’t do the thing because it makes you look bad and untrustworthy that’s literally what this all comes down to like it really is so simple i just don’t understand.
i really appreciate your concern like legit no one in my daily life who knows what’s going on in any of my situations has even asked if im okay or how im doing so every time one of yall on here say such sweet things to me like this i legitimately cry of happiness so just thank you for actually making me feel like i matter you really do mean the absolute fucking world to me
#so i got a response in between typing this#I FINALLY got him to understand#like people think im being vindictive and childish#im literally just trying to hold people accountable for their actions#and hopefully make them understand they can’t just fuck with people for their own selfish reasons#that’s literally it#like yes im hurt#and yes im angry#but like this is about more than just me at this point
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Podcast I'm listening to (Struggle Care) just made the point "people truly can't imagine a world where empathy and accountability happen in the same place" and this is all in relation to the idea of co-dependency but i think it's a really good point in general
#im not gonna get too much into the weeds here but i think this is a really good way of describing the way i've been learning to think lately#and it's something that i think is often difficult for people because there's this attitude of ''you're making excuses'' vs.#''you're overreacting''#one is harsh and the other is dismissive and in most situations where harm has been done the most productive response#is neither of those things#like#one of the best and most infuriating things ive ever jad to accept is that *everyone*#literally *everyone*#is doing their best#yes i also hate this but#from their perspective and from the version if reality they are operating in#i genuinely think everyone is just trying to live the best way they know how#but accepting that is not the same as saying ''no one should be held accountable for the fucked up shit they do''#it's just saying that people act in certain ways because of reasons and we can have understanding for that even if#we find those reasons to be wrong and the actions unacceptable#you can hold two seemingly opposing truths in your mind simultaneously#i genuinely think learning how to do this as a society would do A LOT of harm reduction
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starting this off by saying to read to the end before getting mad at me lmao
bit of a.... unpopular opinion but...
its kinda crazy to me seeing people excuse the stuff leviathan does just by bringing up his past 😭
like idk man its probably because ive personally delt with issues before where ive just had to learn self accountability and to not use past trauma as an excuse for shitty actions that whenever i see someone excuse leviathan by going "well he was abused 💔 he doesn't know any better" its just kinda like.... okay? that sucks for him but it has literally Nothing to do with the mc in any way
like yeah, he was abused by the angels in Many ways as a child, but he's also a grown man thats lived for thousands of years. he's had time to go to demon therapy or whatever it is but hed probably end up hanging the therapist too
honestly i think its really unfair to just mark off everything he does by pitying him for his past anyway, try and tell me that wouldn't piss him off.
THAT BEING SAID BEFORE YALL GET MAD AT ME, I really DO like the growth in his character that we've seen in the past few cards and chats weve gotten with him. like i said he is growing on me a lot more and i do like him as a character honestly. i think some of the recent interactions weve gotten are pretty cute, the noose he gave mc, the cream buns from his uniform card, and the comic from his attacker card are all really sweet and i like that he's starting to open up a bit more with mc lmao
its just kinda confusing for me personally to see him getting excused for everything just bc of past trauma
and No im not trying to say that there's a problem with liking him or trying to hold him to human morals either. honestly ive liked his character a LOT more when ive just quit taking what he does seriously.
he was spying on mc through a orb out of jealousy and threatened a horse because he didn't know how horse riding worked, he's like a more pathetic version of a disney villain (i mean this affectionately)
#if anyone starts getting mad abt this post btw im deleting it 😭 im honestly just relating him to my own personal experiences#i just like being able to go a little bit deeper into character personalities thats it#what in hell is bad#whb#what in “hell” is bad?#prettybusy what in “hell” is bad?#whb leviathan
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grggrgrgrg i dont know where else to put this but i dont know how to explain but i hate when everyone coddles cody its like NOOOO! like yes they shouldnt suffer a horrible punishment but who are you to say what they did is nothing! or to just blatantly just put hate to charizard because shes holding them accountable for their actions! Just because cody is your blorbo does not make what they did right! you cannot forgive them because you are not the victim! sure you can forgive them for lying to you the entire time theyve known you but well to me that also brings up the question of. well what truth have they actually told me.
im not hating on anyone specifically or anything i promise its just like NOOOOO!! STOP!!! THEYRE NOT A LITTLE BABY WHO NEEDS TO BE PROTECTED FROM BIG EVIL CHARIZARD!!!!!
KILL!!!
(joke)
I believe cody needs to be looked at in a realistic light. like "hey cody that was fucked up. buuuut... well youre already in a prison of your own making so there isnt much more i can do. youre already paying for your actions."
Maybe thats just my thoughts i just always feel like a feral animal like this whenever everyone is comforting them
maybe that is how i feel about cody in general on a variety of fronts though they are my chew toy <3
FOR REAL IT'S GENUINELY SO CRAZY SEEING PPL JUST GOING "that's it?" AT THE FACT THAT CODY KNOWINGLY KILLED THE CHILDREN OF THEIR OWN CREATION. they did the thing that these players have literally threatened to kill EACH OTHER over. like, it's not just a one-off instance. there has been a RESOUNDING amount of support for cody in monochrome's inbox right now.
BUT that said, there ARE some people who are saying exactly what you have of, "i forgive you for lying and what you did was bad but you've already been punished for it" and even some people who do feel genuinely angry at them so it's not like EVERYONE is just blindly coddling cody. so that's good.
i'm trying my best to make it clear from a narrative perspective that what cody did was a Very Bad Thing and that charizard isn't just senselessly bullying cody over something that wasn't their fault. i know that was the false narrative that cody was fostering in peoples' heads for the past two years, so it's going to take a while for people to unlearn what cody misled them into believing and fully accept the gravity of cody's actions. charizard might be harsh but she is the voice of reason here to expose not just cody's true nature but also the hypocrisy of cody's players. it'll be fun to see more of her from now on.
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am i rlly going to write a death note literary analysis when i could be doing other things
about the discourse going on in the tag abt "death note is acab and thats why the characters couldnt better the world with the note (/written in somewhat jokey matter)" vs "death note is trying to say we all have potential for evil, especially if you get a chance to insta-hurt ppl without repercussions, and it doesnt matter if youre a cop or not", i personally feel like it ignores the things that i like abt death note, which is "both of these things are true", and simultaneously "both of these things do not matter". the first part of this is dedicated to the first point, the latter to the last.
first point. i think its an important part of the message and themes (unintentional or not, and i lean on the former because... come on, can you really say the author intended you to not think of the cops as good people, at least compared to light and l) that light is a cops son, and that almost everyone who gets the death note is cop adjacent/thinks like a cop and is already corrupt/powerful when they get it (mello raised to think hed be just like l, yotsuba group is self explanatory; you cannot look me in the eyes and tell me teru "churchill" mikami, who was hand selected by light out of a bunch of rabid kira supporters, is a normal citizen). i appreciated the cop post bc its rlly important to not gloss over that aspect.
all of this would be an argument for "only someone like them would do something like this, and i am not like them, so im above them and immune to thinking about what id do with it", but... misa is the MOST important outlier in all of this bc her murders are solely selfish in nature and shes not doing any of this for "the greater good"!!! her nature of being an exception and still a very very bad person is really really important...
or it would be if death note gave a shit about her character at all!!! im not talking about her tragic side, im talking about exploring the ramifications of her killing people the way lights murders are (somewhat) explored. that would strengthen the message greatly! but shes dismissed and that weakens it overall. firstly, she's dismissed by the characters when l only sees her as a way to get to kira and basically shelves her the rest of the time. secondly, shes dismissed by the narrative when her character is gradually ground down to a stump and (not to sound perilously close to the bad takes ppl meme about) she never faces repercussions for her actions. every other character using the death note is treated relatively seriously, but misa just dies bc her love is dead. im not saying this isnt a... fitting punishment or that it isnt in character, but it doesnt fit snugly into the theme other people are talking about of "you reap what you sow" at all.
we do have something of an equivalent to misa's grayscale motives. surprise surprise, its light yagami. first is light's characterization in the musical (i will also note that misa never kills anyone in the musical). light's thinking is coplike, yes — he literally starts his first song by talking about "throw[ing] away the key" — but also, oddly enough, could be read as progressive and therefore sympathetic to tumblr ("let the corporations make the regulations / and hold no one accountable when everything gets wrong / let the rich and famous get away with murder / every time a high-priced mouthpiece starts to talk, his client gets to walk"). compare to the anime and manga, where his bigotry and pride and disgust come from a place of lukewarm dissatisfaction and boredom. the musical has much less time to play around with lights character, so it gives the audience something to immediately hook on. more on how that actually plays out later.
in the animanga, none of this is justified from the start. animanga light could say he was just killing people to make humanity way, way worse, and that wouldnt matter, because at the root of it, it was always his boredom that made him pick up the note. of course he actually believes in justice and believes hes doing the right thing (no, he believes he's doing the wrong thing, for the sake of the world... the right thing, because he is god...), but it was boredom at the start. all animanga light says about justice and righteousness and the law is a front in the end, bc he is exactly like l and misa — amoral. selfish. searching for entertainment. hedonistic. we know this. he kills naomi misora*. he kills lind l. turner. everything hes saying deserves to be dismissed from the beginning.
"but doesnt that mean you agree with the discourse post you wrote this post to argue against?" like i said, i agree with both of them! but i... still think its not right to reduce death note to the message of "the power to kill people is bad". because that is not exactly what the story is saying, even though that's literally its whole plot and therefore reaching that conclusion is self explanatory (lmao). let's look at the concept of mu. nothingness. "there's no heaven or hell". The Real Slay The Princess (Death Note Essay) Starts Here.
in light's final moments in the death note manga, while screaming about not wanting to die, he remembers that the first day they met, ryuk told light that "there's no heaven or hell. no matter what they do in life, all people go to the same place. all humans are equal in death". it is retroactively revealed that light knew this the whole time, operated under this knowledge for all the years we watched him — the knowledge that nothing he does is actually bad, that nothing any human does is actually bad, that shinigami are not "evil", that the universe does not care. that no one cares except humans. this oblivion absolutely terrifies him more than anything anyone could ever do to him. its what he thinks of before anything else as he flails there, screaming, dying. one could say everything he does after that day is him trying to escape that fact, or wrest control over it. but it doesnt work.
here are the lyrics of requiem, the musical's final song, sung over the bodies of l and musical light, a light who was at least somewhat good-intentioned at first: "sleep now, here among your choices / then fade away / hear how the world rejoices / shades of gray / gone who was right or wrong / who was weak or strong / nothing left to learn". this is the final message the death note musical and the manga chose to leave us with. there is no judgement. even after all that acknowledged hurt, after all the damage done, there is no judgement.
in the manga and anime alike, the world is just as fucked when light picks up the death note as when he dies. sure, we as readers can guess otherwise logically (and be optimistic, believing the world was never fucked regardless), but that's not what death note wants you to think. it ends with matsuda and another member of the task force noting how the world is worse again even though they killed kira (matsuda is clearly much worse for wear, but still determined), we see the shitty motorcycle band again, it ends with misa and a whole kira cult on a mountain even though kira died a long time ago...
its extremely important that light is never killed by any human or any aspect of the law. he is always killed by ryuk: a chaotic force completely detached from human sensibilities, one that does not care about good and evil. same with l; in the anime, manga, and musical, he is always killed by rems senseless, morally gray love (and you could argue in the kdrama that hes killed by love there too lol). justice is just a set dressing.
this is not just because death note is a tragedy, because good and evil can still matter in a tragedy. the theme of "nothingness" and "good and evil doesnt matter here" is also shown in a situation relatively unrelated to light winning or losing, or being good or bad. and its in fucking lawlight of all things. we all know ls not a good person. we know lights not a good person. this is tip of the iceberg death note knowledge. but the moment they start to interact, none of that starts to matter. textually, their relationship becomes more important than the people theyve killed and hurt. and the thing is? the thing is? THAT WORKS STORY-WISE. THAT'S ENTERTAINING. AND IT'S NEVER TEXTUALLY CALLED OUT IN A LASTING WAY. l and lights relationship, no matter how much i meme it, is genuinely important to the themes and "mu" because it makes it clear that despite all the pretensions, despite everything, this was never about good and evil. and it still works in the story. this is why death note is simultaneously a comedy — isn't the battle of good and evil supposed to matter more? well, fine, i'll keep watching this anyway. that suspension of disbelief comes crashing down the moment l dies, though, and a relationship built on nothingness (the "mu" sort, meaninglessness, not "character development" nothingness, theres plenty of character development) gives way to just nothingness (again, "mu", not light's post-l depression nothingness), forever.
(an aside: there is no one to root for in death note, and the only things to root for are either interesting character relationships, convoluted plots, or complete and total destruction: for everything to end so no more damage is done.)
not to say that death note does not encourage its readers to consider what damage they might do with the death note (obviously.), or that its characters never do. look at matsuda, a much easier heroic figure to latch on to than soichiro because of his unique place in the cast dynamic and because he's willing to consider both sides of the situation and kill light instantly for all he's done. its just that the story's own stance on the subject is... complicated by the existence of shinigami worldviews and by its own insistence that the world cannot change for the better.
also, this is not to say that this is executed well by the death note manga at all. it is a very strong tool, artistically, to establish and then violently remove any emotional connections between characters and make your story only about the exceedingly convoluted lengths characters go to to survive and catch each other so the reader can realize how ultimately pointless all of this is, but like... is that a good story choice if that's all you do? i would say not really. add in a good dollop of misogyny that destroys the second-to-last character who might actually be an interesting contrast to the rest of the cast's dull one-track focus on winning and justice, and youve got yourself a shitty story that... honestly still achieves what it went out to do, just not in a way id ever want to replicate.
anyway, back to the parts death note's actually trying to say. no matter what any human does in their life, no matter how they try to hurt or help the world, they all die in the end. hey, light, they all die in the end. once dead, they can never come back to life. and the seasons turn. and the world rejoices. and you say "goodbye"...
that's all.
no analysis of death notes overarching theme would be complete without nears final monologue, the definitive roast of light, the "you're just a murderer" speech: "what is right from wrong? what is good from evil? nobody can truly distinguish between them. even if there is a god." if we take this as talking about the actual god in the room (ryuk) as well as light, then near admits that humans will never be able to withstand these overwhelming forces and that, using justice and happiness and selfishness, they are just scrabbling to find meaning in things they ultimately have no control over.
but of course, near does not stop there. "[...] even then i'd stop and think for myself. i'd decide for myself whether his teachings are right and wrong." nears alright with not having control over everything, because near can still control nears own actions. these forces can and do exist, but they have no sway over nears own humanity — unlike light, who caved.
one of the creators of death note said they believe its message is "life is short, so everyone should do their best". the first time i learned this, i was like, thats... nice and optimistic, but an awful reading of the story! "life is short, so everyone should be desperate and striving like light yagami", who literally cut off other ppls lives for his own life? what character in death note are we supposed to strive towards when we "do our best"? they all do awful things with their lives! honestly, maybe they shouldnt have tried their best, if this is what their best is!
but with the view of "mu"... it makes a bit more sense. just a little. maybe.
there is no good and evil. there is only what humans think, and no matter what we do, we all die in the end. it is easy to be crushed and terrified by this in the same way light is, but what is more important than justice and righteousness and finding meaning is... doing your best. not being a person that hurts others too much. not letting yourself get swallowed up by an ideal. not going too far. and simultaneously, trusting yourself.
it leaves a few questions, though... was the currently dead l even a little bit right about his blatantly amoral approach, then? was there a point to this pain, and me slogging through this dumbass manga, and all the people that have lost their lives to a selfish teenage cop's son and the whims of everyone chasing after him? was there a point to any of this...?
the manga** never answers this. it stays clinically impartial until the very end. the musical is anything but clinically impartial (and i love it so much for that), and its ryuk that has the last word.
"there's no point at all."
of course theres no point. none of this was ever supposed to happen. that is what matters more than all the hurt and the crimes and the pain.
and that's... actually okay, because it's over now.
yes, death note has many really important themes present in its story, but its viewpoint is nihilism first and foremost. thats why its so fun and easy to play around with all the other messages, because no matter what fun or torment or awful things or righteous justice or absolute nothingness or sentimentality happens in between, there is always an end.
there is always the end.
#*naomi was killed off bc the author thought shed solve the case too quickly. ironic. i dont think it was meant to forward a theme other than#'light evil! oh no!!!' bc it had minimal buildup and absolutely no repercussions. it is just kind of smth that happens#everything in death note is just smth that happens bc. at some point i just have to admit its NOT RLLY WELL WRITTEN#but it says something. it says many things. and i like balancing the two in my head#death note#personal#**>reduces anime ending to a footnote /j#anime ending: light regrets COMING THIS FAR- not his crimes. he sees l as another regret and dies.#another example of the tragic self (and tragic relationship) ultimately being more important than morals#l would be proud of the torment he inflicted on light if he were not fucking dead#i would also bring up the argument that the way every death note character uses the note is so extreme that its hard to compare them#to real people but lets assume that the author was trying to replicate how actual human beings work as much as possible*#you made it deep enough into the tags would you like to hear about near and mello being nonbinary—#'there is an end so why not enjoy the middle? chain yourself to a hot boy eat strawberry shortcake be bisexual and lie'#*either that or they were just explicitly trying to have fun like they said they was doing#light yagami#sure ill tag my boy#'you cant say the curtains are just blue!' well can i say the curtains were shittily made#norrie if you look at this post ever again ill death note you myself
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Hello Lilac.
Frankly I've been a fan of your analysis ever since I entered the fandom.
I've also noticed that many people have very different takes of what each boy represents and the symbolism of each character.
But I'm interested to know what's your take on what each boy represents and their symbolism.
hi ari!! sorry it took me so long to answer! this post is going to be kind of bullshit because im not as hyperfixated as i used to be, literally.
i think my opinions on what the boys represent is kind of basic but some of them are a little far fetched. ive spoken about it before of my opinions on the religious symbolism (which spans from the idea that simon is jesus) but i dont know enough about religion to fully expand this idea. however, i think in this case piggy/roger would be abel/cain and jack would be judas.
in a political sense, i find that the idea of ralph and jack representing a two party system is kind of,, nationalist american bullshit because it doesnt have to be that way. but i think jack and ralph more so represent tyranny/ a simplified version of leadership while ralph represents the true complexity that comes with trying to put someone in a leadership position. a lot of ralphs character revolves around his inability to properly lead and his failure in regards to jack, who thinks hes doing everything right.
people frequently speak about a good vs. evil conversation here, and i do see what they mean. im personally of the opinion that simon did nothing wrong and i feel like people grasp for straws to hold him accountable for.. something. i think simon, piggy, and the mulberry boy represent that the people in our society who fall are oftentimes the ones who have better intentions and less power. the book heavily emphasizes that jack and roger only lead because they're evil enough to.
heres a list of some themes i think the boys represent:
simon - purity, piety, disability, goodness, prophecy, i think simon is meant to be the one who was right all along. hes a real tragedy
piggy - obviously intelligence but also disability, i see him as a form of ignorance at times too and tunnel vision.
ralph - leadership, animalistic tendencies, prey, selflessness.
jack - predator, leadership, also animalistic tendencies, selfishness, jack also leans towards a more manipulative style of leadership than roger
roger - henchmen type guy. hes "the most evil one" but hes also the most controlled and thoughtful of his actions, he and piggy both represent children who rely on leadership heavily.
maybe i could go more in depth during a conversation im just struggling to fully explain myself D:
#lord of the flies#lotf#lotf fandom#hello lord of the flies fandom#lotf analysis#lotf ralph#lotf jack#lotf simon#lotf piggy#lotf roger
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Fanfic writer questions!
How many works do you have on ao3?
8! But if we count my other account that I abandoned, 10.
What's your total ao3 word count?
So far, roughly 142k words.
What fandoms do you write for?
Mostly just COD fandom (exclusively Ghostsoap!)
Top five fics by kudos:
Leaving Your Heart On Fire - omegaverse smut amirite? (first attempt at smut fic too, which is, something!)
carry me in your teeth (with tender jaws of sympathy) - seal!soap x orca!ghost with hurt/comfort, biting and other shenanigans. honestly, i never thought people would like it that much since i hallucinated the plot & the first chapter within a day lmaoo.
Only Yours - another omegaverse smut! second one in the series, but whatever. wall sex galore tho <33
Sweetest Gift - lingerie & shibari & bdsm. need i say more
With The Softness Of Your Breath - what if hallmark movies were good, and ghoap? ALSO childhood friends and retired au + all the christmas goodness. this one is very deserved and i will literally kiss everyone who read this on the mouth for giving it a chance even tho i know first person pov isn't favoured in fandom spaces. i poured my heart into it, ty <3
Do you respond to comments?
I try my best to! Miss some sometimes because i'm too busy giggling and kicking my feet over the sheer amount of elation i feel whenever i get the notification.
What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Happy ending kind of guy, so none. Unless you count the letter. MCD 😔
What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
CHRISTMAS FIC,, but all of them are going to be happy ending so we'll see!! my current longfics will take the rest of the year, or more, to end though, so who knows.
Do you get hate on fics?
No? But I did get a comment about how first person pov was something that a reader hated and they were looking forward to reading the fic with the tags & summary. Oh well, their loss.
Do you write smut?
ABSOLUTELY,,, i adore writing smut. right after fluff and angst, i have to say.
Craziest crossover:
None yet :(
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
No, not that I know of.
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Nope! I wouldn't mind it though.
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
No but Alex. i am looking at you with the softest, darkest brown eyes ever.
All time favourite ship?
GHOSTSOAP. but also capitaru and cami. if you know you know. i don't mind ghoap x reader too, but i swear they NEED to be fucking each other as well, no ghoap 'thinking' of each other as friends and nothing more. all of us are in love and fucking and that is final, or there is nothing.
What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Beyond Life and Death,,, im so sorry my first attempt at a longfic but i really overestimated everything before i started writing it. Still hold it in my heart, since it was how I taught myself to write fanfics in general but it's a mess, honestly.
What are your writing strengths?
I. have no idea. I've been told I'm good at setting scene (emotional, erotic, angsty) so maybe that? Words also fly out of my mind at the speed of light whenever I am deeply dissecting a character's inner monologue, feelings and thought process AND ALSO TRAUMA, so that too.
What are your writing weaknesses?
I would say action if it were me from the past,, but I've gotten better at it. So, for now, plot, but I'm working on it!
Thoughts on dialogue in another language?
HELL YEAH!!
First fandom you wrote in?
......JJK. You will not find that fic though.
Favourite fic you've written?
All of them are my babies don't make me choose 😭
I have no idea who has done this tag game and who hasn't. it was trending like months ago, so open tag for now! do feel free to yap about your fics and tag me if you, i'd love to know <3 (get some recs meself) ill tag a few but feel free to ignore me if youve already done it lmao @eiraeths @myriadblvck
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just want to say im glad for another person on this hellsite who is able to see the nuance of the godhood situation. it's VERY interesting how no one really sees ashtons anger at the pantheon as an issue, beyond some of tumblr, at this point. and while im glad it's secluded to here, it's deeply annoying at this point to act like their belief at this point is ashton' biggest problem. and it's honestly actively harmful to analysis at this point for anyone (many big accounts, especially) to suggest that there arent valid reasons for folk giving their *entire lives* to an anti predathos cause to be cautious when they've often been burned or slighted by the pantheon or its institutions (still reeling from folk calling frida evil for their measured disdain at the gods as if they werent from AEOR.)
oh god the takes on deanna and frida that first week. their perspectives were SO fascinating and complex and layered and a little confused in a very very real way, and so much of the posting about it was just begging for a PC that loved the gods uncritically or assuming they must be secret ruby vanguard spies because they didn't. aabria iyengar's incredible brain is wasted on some of you!!!
and yeah there's this very persistent idea that the, "what have the gods done for me" question, or similarly personal reasons for ambivalence or antipathy towards them, is selfish and wrong. which, given that these things are being said in response to "something is trying to kill the gods and we are risking literally everything to save them", is insane, but i also think it's not really fair under normal circumstances either? given how deeply individualized a relationship with one of the gods can be in exandria, and the fact that they clearly play favorites with mortals, and pick and choose whose calls to answer, and can literally grant whoever they want the power not just to bring people back to life but also murder them a bunch, it actually feels extremely reasonable to think they suck. they're unaccountable (to you) arbiters of an unfair system!!
but somehow the fact that the gods are flawed gets used to shield them from criticism; it's a reminder that they're just like people, which means that they should be forgiven and understood like people, and saved like people. they can't do everything, they're just trying their best, they have their own feelings. and because they're like people, they deserve to maintain the massive amounts of power they hold over all other people and should be revered and respected and not have their actions questioned, i guess?
it really is a shame, because it feels like there is so much fascinating discussion and meta that could be had on this topic if people weren't so intent on defending the gods no matter what, often twisting the narrative being presented to do so, and casting characters as objective and reasonable or selfish and irrational based on where their opinions lie (see liam repeatedly saying orym's opinion on the gods debate is deeply biased on 4sd, only for fans to continue to treat him as the measured voice of reason.) instead we're stuck with, "laudna shouldn't hate the gods because of her previous treatment by clerics (it was her fault anyways for being scary and dead), but she should support the gods because a cleric brought her back to unlife." sad!
#anonymous#crposting#i am very excited for future gods talk in game!! manifesting them going somewhere next where they can learn more about them so hard#it is easy to forget this when i think about The Discourse but I reminded myself at the end there#and talking to other people who can actually be normal about it also helps so thank u bestie#asks#long post /#critical role#cr#cr meta
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Coughs
All offense but yall are typing shit out of your ass. Don't play the "Oh i looked up to you" or " I kept you at arms length" I'm sorry but you're throwing and pinning this all on me because your friend was lying and you don't want to actually hold them accountable. This dude have neglected, avoided me and made me think I was the issue when I tried to communicate any flaws we had during our relationship. [ Which, note, they also admitted this TO MY FUCKING FRIEND.] Whatever they fucking skewed or try to blame me on, they neither have communicated it with me or brought it up AT ALL, and even if they did; they used it against me TO HURT ME. I've always been upfront about my problems to you and my friends and if there is actually ANY point you're trying to come across, its not hitting the end goal here. You've seen how emotionally distressed I was, and if there is any thought of actually being genuine and honest with how my actions coudlve been viewed. None of yall did anything about it but said "learn self respect, learn self love" and even RELATED to me on what I was going through. You're fucked for being two faced cunts. I came to YOU for help, I MADE EFFORTS. But im not gonna sit there and let them treat me that fucking way. Its fucked how all of you guys are attacking me and using your good deeds, WHICH BTW, doesnt make your points anymore foul than what it actually is. It does not make you a good person. Thank you for having HUMAN DECENCY to try and help me when I was at my lowest and was considering to fucking end my life, I understand me being thrown into a bad mania episode had left me doing some deplorable behavior. WHICH I DO ADMIT, COULDVE BEEN HANDLE BETTER but your friend still was a piece of shit to me and said really hurtful things and done shit before we've broken up. Which you know, I wish I didn't fucking excuse and forced myself to let them keep doing it to me. DRAWING yourself killing me, calling me a black hole and claiming ive "taken" everything from them, when I have spent so much of my energy and fucking time to love and adore them. I wanted them to make sure they know that they are loved because I was so blind to believe they where an actual nice person. Hell, I went to a whole ass different COUNTRY just to meet them, only for them to be on their phone 24/7 saying they felt "rushed" when I told them about this planned trip SINCE SEPTEMBER. WHICH THEY COULDVE AT ANY POINT SAID "No thank you" oh yeah are we gonna forget they barely communicated about those plans too? Which they slapped that shit onto their friends and made them deal with it? Yes, thank you for inviting me, Kashi. I am so fucking embarrassed that everything came down to this point. I do bare so many regrets on every going because not you, or your room mates had to deal with the embarrassing tension that my ex and I gone through. It still eats me up everytime I think about it, cause its fucking disgusting and I never wanted to go home so fucking bad. Only to find out literally TWO DAYS AGO they've actually stolen OC'S that I praised them on making. Which, my other friends can fucking CONFIRM they claimed it was their art. Get the fuck out. Also, me not wanting them to have a new partner??? FELLA, what are you BULLSHITTING ABOUT. you're grasping at LITERAL STRAWS here. No one gives a FUCK about who they are dating. Least not with me? I don't care about their partner, whatever was exchanged between Evan and my Ex[ Their ex also.] had ZERO of my influence there if rather or not they will actually go to them about it. They told me they where gonna confront them, so they did. Im proud of them for even talking about this PUBLICLY. So DONT YOU DARE PIN THAT SHIT AGAINST ME. IDGAF ABOUT THEIR CURRENT SIGNIFICANT OTHER. WHATEVER THEY DO IS NOT MY BUSINESS. I'm thankful enough I have people who love me. You are deflecting and making yourselves even more stupid than I have thought. Im sorry but no one gives a FUCK about their current partner, youre going off the main point shows how actually blinded you are.
Also PLEASE shut the fuck up about stalking, literally all you guys ever done was do the SAME EXACT SHIT. Why where you on my toyhouse profile, why where you visting my tumblr, WHY where you on MY twitter account? I'm sorry no one gives a fuck about whos stalking who, you said it for yourself you fucking idiot. Its made public so therefore PEOPLE WILL SEE IT. MY FRIENDS CAN SEE IT, I CAN SEE IT. I am fully aware that what I post is public too and will eventually be seen, THATS FINE. OH YEAH, BY THE WAY, I HAVENT EVEN FUCKING VISITED YOUR PROFILE EVER SINCE OUR LAST DISCUSSION! I was hellbent on not checking anyones accounts. I was hellbent on moving on with the idea of ignorance is bliss. IVE ONLY WENT ON BECAUSE I FOUND OUT WHO THE REAL ARTIST WAS!!! I spent fucking time deleting and separating the character to find the signature, looked them up and BOOM. IT WAS YOUR EX?? the main issue here is that your friends A FUCKING LIAR. " My partner left me because of Hazbin" No you fucking idiot I left you because you're where making me run through hoops to try and FIX things that WHERE OUT OF MY CONTROL. Don't you dare ignore that I havent made actual efforts while you sat there doing fuck all nothing. And btw, i'm not the only person youve done this too and said "oh idk what to do" WE KEEP FUCKING TELLING YOU WHAT TO DO. Holy shit YOU'RE ALL SO FUCKING STUPID!! I SWEAR!!! ACTUALLY THINK FOR YOURSELVES, I DON'T CARE HOW MUCH YOU ALL CIRCLE JERK EACH OTHER OFF. Literally SO OVER THIS.
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this is literally just a little rant about the skz thing because i have no one to talk to about it.
for the skz thing that’s going on right now. i probably won’t be listening to the song at least in the near future. (im not sure if i ever will tho tbh) and i dont agree with the collaboration. but i also don’t agree with all the hate they have been receiving.
it’s hard to judge this situation as we all know they are under strict contracts. and as much as we want them to speak out about these issues most people should understand that’s it probably won’t happen for as long as they are under jyp and are following traditional k-pop “guidelines”.
also i’ve seen a lot of people talking about felix apologizing for the coke bottle in his live stream and talking about if he could speak about that why can’t he speak about this. tbh for all we know he could have in big time trouble for that, we honestly don’t know what’s happening behind the scenes. there is also probably a lot of legal shit, that they can’t breach without getting sued.
At the end of the day i’m ignoring the problems at hand, i will be boycotting the song just like i did the coke song and that’s that. but i will continue to support the boy with what they have plan ahead as i’ve always been an advocate of holding you faves accountable while still being able to support.
(idk if any of that made sense i literally was just brainlessly trying the things i have been thinking)
I understand this too. Kpop is so much about contracts and maintaining silence and not taking stances, and it’s a big part of why it SUCKS to be within the sphere of kpop right now. I think I’m personally just annoyed with the silence and it’s inhibiting my desire to support a lot of things right now. Seeing the thousands of people dying and then logging on to see dancing tik toks or the met gala or luxury fashion events. It’s very “let them eat cake” mentality and it just feels so unimportant in the grand scheme of things
I also don’t want to make kpop the sole focus of my activism. Like yeah I’m annoyed of them for not saying anything, but at the end of the day let’s go back to talking about Palestine. Viewing the genocide only through the lens of a kpop boy band feels very narcissistic. I personally won’t be supporting a lot of stuff right now and I know that skz will not lose their relevancy as they’re on such an upward trajectory, but it’s a personal moral decision and anybody else who chooses to do the same is valid in their decision, too.
I see them again in August, but I hope people know I don’t agree with their actions right now. My activism isn’t perfect either but I’m donating and I’m doing what I can and I’m not platforming people I know to be Zionists. It’s free Palestine ALWAYS
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Sorry but gender didn't really play a factor in my take? As someone who struggles with how overwhelming it is baseline to deal with people in real life let alone on socials stepping away and focusing on just me can be very helpful when it gets overwhelming. Maybe it was my own ignorance there that didn't make me think beyond that point but I really wasn't trying to make excuses for other people's behavior.
other than constantly being objectified in spaces that are meant for me what problems do i have on here? sure i get overwhelmed talking with people but im very open about that because i never want people thinking im directly ignoring them i just kind of disappear when my social battery gets drained and i hope that the people i do talk to know that when i go radio silent that its not intentional and if they do they’re so kind and understanding about it. i don’t think you were making excuses im sorry. when i replied with the ‘get em’ it was more towards the gross types of people that are driving me up the absolute wall. not a lot of people talk about the harassment they get because it usually subjects them to more and you cant really hold an anonymous person or a stranger accountable for the things they say or do on the internet because they have that protection of the screen.
so the person i reblogged the ask from…i do agree with a lot of what they said because we are just usually told to take time off socials when we’re being harassed…theres not much protections for us (it’s literally in tumblrs tos that they’re not held accountable for their userbase’s actions towards each other) so like you had good intentions i appreciate that and i have been taking time to myself which has been nice but given the context of what i was talking about that i think is where the original ask came from it can be seen as a little dismissive but im sorry that its an insulting response to you so i’ll delete my reblog.
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IM HERE!! IM LATE BUT IM HERE!! FINALLY!!!
30 days late (I counted because I absolutely hold myself accountable) but I'm here and I thank you for your patience endlessly.
ONTO:
ASKØÆÅVFÆÅFØLDB
This made me laugh in the absolute best way. 10/10 way to start a review, so ASKØÆÅVFÆÅFØLDB right back!! 😂😂
Fucking hell.
😇😇😇😇😈
I finally got the time to read this one, AND IT DID NOT DISAPPOINT 💯✨
Lissa I'm finally able to respond to this with matching energy so SAME TO YOU MY GOOD DUDE(gn). You absolutely spoil me with your love and I dont deserve it 😭😭♥♥♥
This is hands down one of the best stories I've ever read, and I'm so happy I did and I'll revisit this story again sometime, because, fuck, it was just soo fucking good!!! 😭
SOBBING CRYING. I literally am so so happy you enjoyed it. It was my first time really going in on like. Lore and fantasy and smut so the fact that it hit so hard for you just makes my heart freaking soar dude.
Re-revisit???? SPOILED!! I AM SPOILED!!!
Yoongi as the devil is sin on legs, I don't know how to put it 🤧 he's so fucking sexy, and so is oc! She's a bit bad ass and I love it! Taehyung was also so funny, and the whole supernatural world was so good and interesting! I feel like I want more, so much more of this universe 😭💖 and please, don't take this as me asking for another part or anything, it's just praise that I think it was so good that I would read more of it if ever made 💜
I whole heartedly that Mr. Min as Mr. Underworld wholly just does something for me. IDKWTH that says about meeeeeee. But I see you. I see you.
OC makes my heart happy because she (unknowingly to me at the time of writing) stole all my gryffindor like traits and then turned them up to 11, and I love her for that. I love how brave and unbothered she is by everything. I just. Adore her.
I debated for all of 4 seconds on which member I wanted to make OC's bartender coworker bestie and Tae just fit because he's sooooo the type 😂😂. I thought for 2 seconds to make him Jimin but then I figured Jimin would suit a Banshee better and forevermore Tae was decided to push OC's buttons in the ways she needed.
I do have theories in my mind for more of this universe with the other members, and hell even if i wanted to, with other groups even. But I know what the other members are in the universe, and I have a rough (very VERY rough) couple of ideas what could happen for each. Who, knows, I've gotten so much love from this oneshot that series is starting to sound much nicer.
And I gotchu! I know a lot of folks take praise as demand but you dont gotta worry about that with me. As someone who was and remains a reader before a writer, I getcha. I do.
And... The smut... It was so fucking good. It made me feel so much, it was hot, so, so hot 🔥
God this is consistently relieving to hear. I can't read it myself anymore without cringing but my mum has read the story so maybe thats why. I did put a lot thought into word choice and actions and such, but trying to ~write~ and trying to make it hot at the same time is such a talent and so for my first time really trying to write it I think I did okay. My point being, every time someone as lovely and kind as yourself tells me this it's such a nice relief to know it's only cringey to me (because ~i~ wrote it) and the experience is different for people who didn't have to sit there and think "should I use cock or dick here??? Is folds okay still or is it starting to become cringe as hell??? Shit why are there only like 3 acceptable words for clit!!??" 😂😂😂
Everything in it; the lore, the storytelling, the writing! It was perfection!!! ✨✨✨✨✨
*cries while looking up from my bowing position at your feet* T-thank youuuuuu😭😭😭♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
Im just rambling now, but yoongi was so hot, like what 🥵🥵🥵
Ramble always! I don't know a single writer out there who doesn't love it!!!! And I agree on terms of principle. Yoongi is just.. fucking hot.
And I haven't watched Lucifer, but I imagined Crowley from supernatural 🤭 but in a young and sexier edition (I really do love Crowley, so no shade there!).
I've never seen supernatural but I have seen Lucifer XD. Yin and Yang you and me! And now that I've googled crowley, he's a cutie pie!! So I'm good with that!
But damn. I really loved this one.
I really loved this gloriously kind and loving review. Folks like you are the reason fandom persists, thank you for your efforts ♥♥♥
It was perfect in every way 🥵✨🥰
*continues sobbing a puddle the size of the pacific*
Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you. For the review, the patience you give and for your existence <3
The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG
Title: The Devil Wears Valentino
Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader
Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff
Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.
Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.
And obnoxiously flirty.
Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,
Explicit warnings under the cut.
Word Count: 10,488
Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM
A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!
A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much
A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.
Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....
Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word.
Intimate. That would be a better choice.
From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering.
The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony.
You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.
He’ll be back for another soon.
While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy.
Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts.
Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.
And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go.
Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.
Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between.
Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company.
Most of the time.
You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight.
“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”
“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.
Fucking incubi demons…
You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off.
You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.
You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”
Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges.
Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter.
They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot.
It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are.
You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back.
“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses.
And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up.
“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.”
There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.
“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.
It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.
Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.
Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.
And obnoxiously flirty.
But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is.
Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.
Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck.
It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.
He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself.
“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.”
To which you think again, fucking incubi…
Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night.
You learned your lesson.
So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung!
You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.
From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.
Which can only mean one fucking thing.
You just lost all your tips for the night.
Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it.
Fuck.
“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.
“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet.
You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know.
“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’
You know exactly where it is.
No one else will touch it.
Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass.
No one serves him but you.
But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you.
You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.
You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year.
After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,
“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”
He didn’t take another breath.
A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.
“Thanks,” You’d said.
“It’s where he belongs,” he responded.
Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.
But he was more than pleased.
After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.
He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you.
Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it.
A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink.
Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;
‘One for sorrow,
Two for joy,
Three for a girl,
Four for a boy,
Five for silver,
Six for gold,
Seven for a secret never to be told.’
You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself.
‘Eight for a wish,
Nine for a kiss,
Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,
Eleven for health,
Twelve for wealth,’
You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.
“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.”
He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.”
You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.
“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’”
He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.”
“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”
You know the entire club listens in to your conversation.
No one calls the Devil by his first name.
Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to.
And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives.
No one except you.
What a funny little exception you are.
Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”
You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.
You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is.
“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that.
Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in.
“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night.
He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker…
“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.
Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up.
You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.
Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…
Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.
You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath.
The King of Hell.
He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end.
Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon.
Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging.
He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.
You have to stay away from him.
But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.
As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers.
It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully.
There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity.
“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”
Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.
Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive.
The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again.
Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well.
You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while.
All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was.
And maybe he is.
But not to you.
The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow.
You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him.
The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world.
And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you.
It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.
You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find.
Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos.
They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.
All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside.
Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor.
Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.
You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding.
You needed this.
A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system.
You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth.
“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing.
“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer.
You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.”
Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target.
In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own.
Yoongi.
God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.
Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself.
Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real.
And he looks like sin incarnate.
Fitting.
Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?
Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you.
Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.
When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on.
Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved.
Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.
They were all you.
Maybe his plan was working after all…
“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.
What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.
“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”
He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.
“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.
A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises.
“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”
Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!
Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night.
Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse.
Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him.
You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.
“What do you think?”
Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.
“May I touch?”
You don’t hesitate.
“Yes.”
Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.
“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body.
This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.”
Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now.
Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening.
The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you.
“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..
Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant.
Beautiful.
“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says.
“My birthstone,” you reply.
“Your birthstone.”
You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.
“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”
“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you.
Makes you wonder what he promised.
Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers.
Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.
Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you.
Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring.
What is he doing to you?
“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear.
“Mmm?”
“Would you like to dance?”
Fuck would you ever, but wait—
“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse.
Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.
“Is that something you’d be interested in?”
“Yes.”
You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly.
“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.
Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.
Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’.
They don’t know about Yoongi.
They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him.
You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides.
You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it.
You’ve decided.
To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power.
To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years.
You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back.
But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.
You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.
“Let’s go to yours.”
“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”
Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club.
“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.
Fuck, you don’t want to wait.
And apparently neither does Yoongi.
“Do you trust me?” He asks.
“Yes, but what does tha–”
“Close your eyes for me, Love.”
Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate.
So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil.
You trust Yoongi.
“That's a good girl.”
One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft.
Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people?
But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.
What?
“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on.
Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.
“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”
Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.
Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get.
He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.
“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”
You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight.
There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent.
Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.
Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.
“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.
He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea.
Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh.
You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”
You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off.
“Please what, Love?”
“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”
“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?”
“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.
“There she is.”
Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs.
They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you.
Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.
“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.”
His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.
“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”
You nod, but that’s not good enough for him.
“I need to hear it.”
“I understand.”
“Understand what?” He pushes.
“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge.
“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.
The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.
“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”
Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”
He spares you one completely unsympathetic look.
“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”
Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”
His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.
“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded.
Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter.
If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.
Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip.
“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”
He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.
He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue.
“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.
“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.
He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.
“Gotta stretch you out for me first.”
Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.
“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”
“And if I do?”
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”
Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”
“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck…
You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get.
And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it.
Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt.
Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines.
“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before.
Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”
“Whatever you want, Angel.”
Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip.
“Fuck—”
Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him.
“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”
Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.
“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”
The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it.
Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it.
“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.”
His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures.
You’re the most powerful person here.
You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible.
And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know.
“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact.
Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets.
“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”
His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.
“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”
“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace.
You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them.
Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.
This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.
This is about you.
And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.
You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else.
You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal.
Perfect in every single way.
“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”
He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too.
“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”
You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”
“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.
“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.
“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”
The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back.
Not yet.
You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.
Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling.
Ever.
And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more.
He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence.
There was only you.
Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows.
And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.
It’s time for him to finally claim you back.
“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”
“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”
Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.
“Only for you, Yoongi.”
His thrusts stutter.
“Fuck!”
He’s coming.
He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance.
It’s the first time he’s said your name.
And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white.
You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.
Whatever you want. Whatever you need.
It’s yours.
He’ll make it so.
At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.
He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze.
You got exactly what you wanted.
He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented.
And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.
“What changed?”
“Hmm?”
“What about tonight made you change your mind?”
You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?”
That seductive smirk makes an appearance.
“Yes.”
“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”
Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before.
“Next time,” he says. A promise.
You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking.
“What about you?” you ask.
“What about me?”
“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”
He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say.
“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.”
“My soul?”
“Mhm.”
“You’ve never asked for mine before.”
“Never needed it.”
At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”
“You.”
Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him.
You just know it.
“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”
You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless.
You never expected anything like that.
You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years.
Kindness. Patience.
The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better.
Because of you.
“I don't know what to say.”
“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”
You can do that.
“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly.
Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.
“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.
“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell.
He was yours now.
The Devil was yours.
King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.
“Oh thank fuck.”
“Not thank God?” you tease.
Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”
A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3
#truly truly truly truly#Like i dont even have the words for how excited reading this made me#reviews#kingofbodyrolls#TDWV reviews#kind souls#LISSA♥
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it takes four doug has "been through the system of 'several lives'"? do you mean he's been killed by the monsters and respawned a few times, and if not what did you mean? im always a fan of aus that incorporate the respawn mechanics that the games theyre for brush over :3c🍿
Oh man isn't that one hell of a question, that I was totally prepared for ! And since you asked it you're now legally required to sit through my painfully long take on this. Enjoy.
(Fair warning : Long post ahead. And you even get drawings. Click For Quality bcz phone pictures.)
Well it's actually relating to a theory/headcanon of mine that I came up to try for the respawn system to make sense in-game, because I too love when the mechanisms in-game are a thing that's accounted for and explained in the "world building*. And the respawn system in Dark Deception always left me perplex. Allow me to put the problem :
So we, as the player get a certain amount of Lives, represented by skulls, that we can use to try again from the last loading point before a Game Over (in which case I think you have to do the level since the very start.) We get more Lives the more we progress through. So far so good. It could not be accounted for and I'll be content enough with that, HOWEVER. When you die while still having 'Lives', Bierce pulls out a snarky comment like "Oh you got killed by a freaking statue, that's bloody hilarious". But, when you die after running out of Lives and get a Game Over, she will say "You died... HAHAHAHAHAHA" (like the sadistic asshole she is), and that, invariably and only in case of Game Over.
(And, very importantly : when you lose a Life, you don't lose your progress, you don't lose any Shard (depending on the difficulty ofc lmao.) So that means there is no time rewind for Lost Lives : it's a thing that's happening and counts as part of the trial. (The Game Overs, however, are on us.)
Which implies that she's somehow aware that the Game Over means Actually Dead, and that the other times was a "Oh dear, you got yourself fucked up again didn't you." and that we could try again. So this implies that the "several lives" system is something that just occurs with Mortals, and not only Doug since it doesn't phase her.
Now it's kinda infuriating because other than the Joy Joy Gang with the Game Over no one else really says anything about this, so. How would that system, that's implied to be acknowledged, be explained in the Dark Dimension, and why is it not talked about ?
Well I think I developed a plausible enough theory, and I believe the reason, for that and a few other mechanics, could be the Soul Shards. Allow me to explain.
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So we all know the Soul Shards right. Each of them holding power, and supposed to have once been an unfortunate Mortal that got ripped to bits in Malak's Realm. So far so good, however : "Soul Shard" implies that what we collect is only a fraction of the entirety of the victim's soul, which means the rest must be trapped in Malak's Realm. Enslaved, consumed or just wandering, you'd expect these poor sinners (those who did not cave or qualify into becoming Monsters) to want to do the best they can to help the next victim, with whatever power they hold as captive spirits.
So I believe they are the ones to give the Mortals more than one chance. How they do it is unclear, they might 'zap out' the corpse and reanimate it from a certain point of power, because this action takes a lot of their energy, and it needs for them to focus their collective power in certain emplacements -the Respawn Points for us. However, as it takes a lot out of them, they can only revive so many times. That's also why we gain more Lives through the levels : the more Shards we collect, the more people we get on our side to focus their energy to revive us.
As you can see I've given them a humanoid form because I felt they needed one. Anyways, they follow us around. (A lot because we're literally collecting them, I suspect.) When we die, the death screen advice is spoken by them, as pictured here.
I like to think they're also the reason why there is writing on the walls in certain locations (such as the Hotel, the Golden Manor and the Sewers), giving advice and warnings. I don't think it's blood, so it's probably something easier for them to produce. Those must be erased whenever they're spotted.
Anyways, they do more than that.
You see the chorus that you can hear in the background music ? Well I don't know if you ever noticed, but it appear to be singing warnings and injonctions, such as "Keep on moving" in "Maternal Instinct" or "Run for your life" in the teased ost "Silent Shopper" (I think). Here's my illustrated theory on that : Malak forces them to be the ominous background ambiance, so they choose to subtly try to screw him over and encourage us whilst doing so. (There is canonically whispering from the victims according to E, so I think this chorus might be part of this aspect of the lore.)
There are more than one type of Soul Shard, by the way. Depending on their level of spite, their energy, their personality and their desire to get back to their tormentors, they can sometimes appear as Stun Balls or Spotting Shards. Those are rare though, as most powerful souls are harvested ASAP.
(They might also be the reason you don’t suffer from exhaustion from running, idk.)
Also, once they've been collected their spirits stick with us even through the levels they're not from and even in the Ballroom, which allows for scenes like this one.
(Sorry about the colors lol still figuring out the scanner)
Anyways, that was basically the long and the short of it, though assuming the spirits follow Doug throughout the entire thing, I’ve came up with a few bonuses. Plus some cozy Tammy thing for your comfort.
So yeah long story short this pretty much explains how come Doug has gone through more than one life. He’s more or less aware of that fact, but he’s a lot in denial of the whole process and pretend the deaths never happened in the first place and that the voices he hears are indeed the other victims crying out to him and nothing else. Each death makes him more cautious, more reactive, more alert, and also more impatient. He takes the advice and what help there is to take, however he tries not to talk to them. Too much to take in and he kinda has to focus on his own problems. It helps that Bierce seems to royally ignore them. They do *not* like Bierce, by the way.
In total, Doug has died about four times so far. He IS kind of lucky, in the end of the day. That or he might actually be talented, who knows.
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Okay, so that was my explanation ! Hope you had the patience to read through all of it, and that it makes sense to you. Also enjoy the Soul Shard content, I’ve done these a while ago.
Alright, thanks for your ask. You’re welcome and have a great night ✨🤗💖
#answered ask#dark deception#dark deception theory#dark deception headcanons#doug houser#dark deception doug#soul shards#tammy houser#joy joy gang#dark deception malak#dark deception bierce#cw blood#blood cw#cw bruises#scanner#long post
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dude, as a former christian who is now FASCINATED by christianity (in an autistic way) i love love love the story of lucifer the fallen angel. if you view it from lucifers perspective it is so incredibly sexy
adding a cut bc this got long (as usual lmao)
bc according to the bible, gods word is law, and if you dont follow his rules, youre a bad person. and a few of his rules include: always put others needs above your own, endlessly forgive everyone no matter what they do, and do not judge sinners because they dont know any better. these are literally the lessons behind most of the bible stories i was taught as a kid (well, morally speaking. there was also a lot of "spread the word of god to all your friends, or else theyll go to hell" and "if you believe in god, wonderful things will happen and it will solve all your problems (maybe)", but thats a story for another day)
and the story of lucifer, the angel who disagrees with gods teachings and is banished from heaven, was always sold to me as "he believed he was above god". which is essentially true, but intentionally misleading. he believed he was above gods TEACHINGS, which were intentionally designed to keep his creation below himself. someone who disagrees with the teachings i listed above is someone who stands up for themself, doesnt tolerate being mistreated, and holds people accountable for their actions. (look into satanism for more info, this is pretty much what theyre all about. im not a satanist either, but it provides an interesting perspective!) and THAT is the unforgivable sin that got lucifer kicked out of heaven. which tells you a LOT about what christianity is teaching its followers: every sin is forgivable except thinking you know better than god. dont have any thoughts or opinions of your own, because you dont know any better. just follow the rules and you will be happy.
[this is also abundantly clear in the story of adam and eve. i mean, think about it. god says "dont eat the fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil". the devil encourages them to try it because they will learn things god has kept from them. they eat it. they learn things god has kept from them, and its uncomfortable (you know, the way expanding your worldview often is). god says "i told you so. listen to me next time" and punishes them and all of their descendants, forever. like it really doesnt get any more clear-cut than that.]
and so, viewing the christian god not as a loving father who wants whats best for you, but as a tyrant who wants you to never question him and never even think for yourself, the fall of lucifer becomes a story of liberation rather than damnation. the original fallen angel is literally a story about freeing yourself from a system designed to keep you obedient. and there is truly nothing more sexy or lgbt than that
there is always something so incredibly sexy (and dare i say lgbt) about characters finding freedom and happiness in falling from grace and embracing their "corruption" instead of resisting it
#anyway im not a bible expert so idk if this interpretation contradicts the text#but i choose to believe that lucifer was happy to be kicked out#and thats why he tries to 'coerce' people away from god#religion talks#angel#fallen angel#good post op#sorry for the long addition
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Aaa so excited to request something from you!! This request is a bit less like what you typically like writing,, but hopefully you wont hate it- But we all know bo is a mean, rough, nasty cruel bastard but I just adore the thought of him being all gentle and vulnerable, only for his s/o- Something like where during the day, Bo finally realizes he's in love with the reader, and it makes him super lovey-dovey- at night he is sweet and tender, lots of close intimate moments and sincere words- he tells the reader he loves them (maybe they're a bit shocked? Maybe they knew already?) Etc. [Nsfw, gender neutral or afab body (neutral pronouns), soft!Bo, lots of praise, (examples like "so good for me", "you can do it i know you can darlin", "im so lucky") or whatever, and lots of neediness, especially on his end 👀 ] i want to melt at the thought Ncncndjdjdj. I feel like that was a really long request and of course, feel free to change it up some, I'll love it no matter what- thank you and keep up the great work! 💞
OKAY! Okay, okay, okay! So I am sorry this took so long, you sent this a while back but I wanted to make this hit really hard. I wanted the inspo to be just right and I have been writing this on and off for literal weeks like I started this officially in early December and here it is now! I tried to go in, make it soft and hot and give you that all too rare Soft!Bo content. I normally write him much harsher so the change of pace was nice and refreshing! I hope everyone else here digs it! I also hope I made it soft and intimate enough. Now let’s get into it.
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Rating. Explicit. Length. 3.8K. Bo Sinclair X GN! Reader. They/Them Pronouns. Warnings. Softness. Domesticness. Confessions Of Love. Making Out. Hand Job. Oral Sex. No Specific Parts Mentioned. Biting. Needy Bo. Body Worship. Dirty Talk. Teasing. Sex. Praise. Pre-Mature Ejactulation.
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Softly And Sweetly.
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The realisation of it, for most people, is never a big or grandiose moment. It might feel like that, but typically the smallest and most innocent of gestures are what triggers one's awareness to how deep their feelings truly run for another.
This was the case for Bo Sinclair.
It's like that song goes, right? “It's not a sunrise over canyons shaped like hearts. It isn't bursting into song in Central Park. It's not the outline of your face drawn in the stars. It's a ‘still-there-Monday-morning’ kind of love.”
It's by all accounts an exceedingly average day.
He wakes up to you being out of bed, not unusual, especially when he can already smell whatever delicious thing you are cooking for breakfast. He can’t linger up here for long, not when you are busy at the stove and his stomach is already rumbling.
He makes his way downstairs, unconcerned about being quiet, when he enters the doorway of the kitchen you are already turning your head to look at him, a wide smile on your face as you greet him, “Morning Bo!”
“Mornin’. ” He said simply as he pushed off of the door frame he had been briefly leaning on, coming over to you as you stood over the hot pan, stirring the mix of breakfast hash and he looked over your shoulder with a hum, “Looks damn good.”
Before you could thank him, his hands settled on your hips and he added on, “Just like you.”
He was pulling you closer and he still felt so warm from just being in bed, you were tempted to abandon the task at hand and turn around in his grip to wrap your arms back around him, bury your face in his chest but you fight back the urge. “Someone is awfully affectionate this morning.”
Typically he would take that as his cue to ease up. To scoff and pull himself away and act like he wasn’t aware of how close and sweet he was being with you, like you were crazy for interpreting his actions in such a way.
But instead he doesn’t.
He continues to hold you and he leans down and says, “You got a problem with that?” his fingers find your sides under your shirt and they dig in and you try to squirm away as you laugh, “Shit-ah! Wait, wait-”
He loves your laugh. Especially when it is like this. Unable to control it as it spills from between your lips, whether from him tickling you or some unexpected joke that really gets you, he loves it.
You beg him to ease up, to stop, “Booo, stop! S’ dangerous-”
True with you still cooking it wasn’t the safest thing in the world so he says, “Okay, okay-” as he pulls away and lets you catch your breath.
This moment I mentioned hits soon after that.
He is seated at the kitchen table, the breakfast hash that you made piled on his plate, toast with butter and strawberry jam and you had just put a mug of coffee in front of him next to his plate. He picks it up and takes a sip and fuck, it is just how he likes it, he looks up across the table and there you are. Leafing through a book you’d been reading lately, chewing on a piece of toast, in one of his shirts, morning light pouring in through the window behind you, looking so right and comfortable and-shit.
He has to grip the handle of the mug tighter, something feels tight in his chest and he can’t stop staring as he realisation truly washes over him.
He loves you.
He really, really fucking loves you.
And what is he supposed to do with that?
After breakfast is eaten in relative silence, you ate much faster than he did, you got up and cleared away your dishes, washed the rest of them and asked if he was done. Inquired because normally he would be long since done, teasingly asked if he was okay, “Yeah, M’ fine.”
He wasn’t looking at you, couldn’t at the moment, he told you he’d leave it on the sink when he was finished and that was more than good enough for you. Off you headed telling him you’d see him around lunch time.
He barely got any work done that day. Mind was far too occupied, combing over so many moments he had spent with you and it was so fucking obvious. The feelings he had for you were much deeper now that he was pouring over and really thinking about it. How had he not clued in sooner?
You dropped off lunch far too quickly, said you were running behind on today’s tasks and you were sorry you couldn't eat with him that day and normally that would annoy him. Usually he might even try to guilt you into staying, something he is now all too aware is because he is so pathetically desperate for you, but you being so busy is fine today, gives him more time to think. He acts unbothered and unaffected and off you run to attend to whatever you were doing that day.
He tries to work and stay busy himself but he can’t. Ends up going from task to task futilely unable to keep you off his mind. When he should be going back home his tools are a mess, parts are left littered about and he has done more flipping through magazines and listening to music than anything actually productive. Mind still whirring with thoughts of you.
By the time evening hits and he is back in the house you are about to start on dinner and he can’t keep away any longer. You cared for him and had made that abundantly clear, you weren’t going anywhere, you put up with him and his brothers stupid shit so often and helped with the town and slotted in so perfectly, just he was really struck by all of it and he needed you.
And that wasn’t an easy thing for him. Admitting that he loved and needed anyone but this was you for fucks sake. You had more than proven yourself, more than earned it and he needed to show it, somehow, he goes with the first thing he can think of and he is in the kitchen and on you so quickly.
You hear him coming and turn to look at him, in the middle of collecting ingredients to make dinner, “Hey Bo, how are-”
But his advance doesn’t stop and then his hands are on you, pulling you to him, arms around you in a tight hug. “Woah!” You let out a small laugh, tone teasing as you ask, “You miss me that much?”
You expect some biting comeback, something joking, keeping emotional distance to help balance out the close physical contact, what you don’t expect is for him to say, “So much.” and with such sincerity to it too.
You return the hug, hands on his back and you sigh out his name. You couldn’t bring yourself to question the sudden change in mood, you wanted to just enjoy it, this hasn’t really happened before and who knows when or if it would again.
His arms loosen, hands on your body, almost as if he is touching you for the first time, eyes running over you like if he stopped touching or looking that he might lose you, if he breaks contact then you’d slip away. You finally ask, “Seriously, are you okay?”
He looks like he considers it for a moment, a small shake of his head as he admits, “M’ great.”
Before you could even dream of questioning further still, his mouth is crashing into yours, stopping your next sentence before it could start. You are pushed back into the edge of the counter, a soft moan of surprise against his lips, needing a moment to return his affection but when you do with your hands on his shoulders it only encourages him further.
It is hot and hungry but not quite as aggressive as usual, his hands wander down your sides and to the curve of your ass and he pulls you closer still but it isn’t enough. He needs more of you, all of you, he breaks away only to lavish more affection over your jaw and neck and you wiggled in his grip, “Oh my Goddd-”
You let out a breathy moan as his teeth scrape over your neck, “Fuck! Where is this coming from?”
He doesn’t answer you, instead his hands close on your wrists and he is pulling you away from the kitchen. “C’mon. Upstairs.”
You stumble after him, legs feeling significantly weaker from the impassioned make out session up against the kitchen counter, you are so startled you ask, “Bo, what about dinner?”
The look he gives you over his shoulder as you reach the base of the stairs tells you in no uncertain terms, “Fuck dinner.”
Fuck dinner indeed. Dinner could always wait. Who needs to eat when he looks at you like that and makes heat pool within you and makes your breath catch.
He can’t keep his hands off of you even on the short journey upstairs and into his bedroom. He even hated that now, his room, it shouldn’t be just his room when it could be both of yours. Soon he has you in bed. The emotions hit him again, washing over him and the touches get lighter, kisses get softer and you still can’t help turning over that question you asked earlier in your mind, wondering where this side of him was coming from.
You are under him and sprawled on the messy bed that you never got to make that morning, kissing him back, your lips sliding against his, the taste of lingering cigarettes had become a comfort, a flavour you will always associate with him. His hands were still decidedly over your clothing, still revelling in touching you as you currently were, rough stubble scraping along your face as he pulled back looking down at you.
As your eyes meet his there is only one word that comes to your mind to describe the emotion in them and that word is, soft.
There are so many words you would use to describe Bo Sinclair but soft was not the one you’d ever jump to first, second or even fiftieth. You had a lot weighing on your mind, much you wanted to say but then he says something that makes you completely forget any and all words when those three pass his.
“I love you.”
You weren’t ever expecting to hear that.
You had a feeling he felt the same way you had for a while.
You’d accepted the fact you might never hear the words and settled for being the one to express those feelings verbally, it wasn’t like you were making sweeping declarations of love every day but you’d said it plenty and didn’t feel shame about making your feeling known. You made sure to take care to not smother him or make him feel like he needed to say those words.
Besides all that, he had shown he cared about you in ways that suited him so you were more than happy.
So to hear him say that? It was, well fuck, it was overwhelming. You finally manage to say something, “Are you serious?”
That makes his expression soften further, a grin breaks out and he laughs softly, “That’s not the response a man hopes for when he says that, you know.” head dipping back down, more kisses laid over your throat, a small nip at sensitive skin that makes you wiggle under him, groaning out his name, “Boooo. M’ sorry, sorry, I know! Just, surprised me is all.”
“I’m full of em.” He said in such a warm tone and you leaned up, hands clasped behind his neck, kissing over the side of his face as you joked, “Full of something alright.”
He chuckled before sighing out, “Love when you do that.” you asked, “When I tease you?”
“Mmm. And alot more than jus’ that.” He kept talking, praised you, hands roaming again, this time starting to remove your clothing as he expressed his feelings further, “So lucky you’re all mine-”
Your shirt pulled up and off, tossed aside as his fingers trace over your newly exposed skin, “-fucks sake, I mean look at this body.”
His hand is close to your throat and you lean up, expecting his hand to close around it but it doesn’t, it trails down and joins his other and aids in removing the pants you had on. “Gonna make you feel so fucking good.”
You had no doubt he would, he always did.
He adjusts, tugs on your hips, encouraging you to arch and help him get rid of them easier and you comply. Once they are taken care of you can feel how hard he is against your outer thigh, you press closer and take note of how his breath catches. “Shit.”
Strong fingers hook in the waistband of your underwear and he rips them free, no protest can be made as he sinks down, brief pause as he takes in the sight of you totally bare for him. He mutters something you can’t quite catch but the hint of tone you catch you know it is very complimentary and fond. Then your legs are spread wide and his mouth meets you, tongue circling your hole immediately. The sensation was startling and made you let out a choked moan, thighs tensing under his strong hands as you scramble to adjust. “Ahhn Bo-”
Whenever he graced you with the pleasure of his tongue you couldn’t help how your body reacted, making you squirm, making you feel like you were on fire so quickly. He hummed at the taste of you, flat of his tongue running over you again and again, you loved how unafraid he was to get messy with it, allowing his spit to flow freely, the extra lube made what he did next so easy.
He pulled back, head resting on your inner thigh as his fingers brushed against you, making you tense further. “Mmm relax darlin’, I gotcha.”
Easier said than done. Looking down at him, soft hair, mouth wet and those blue eyes looking back up at you, God, you felt so much for him. You open your mouth to try and return some of that emotional sentiment from earlier, tell him how much you loved him but his thumb is circling your slick hole and it makes you let out a shaky moan instead.
“Nothin’ sounds better.” Kisses over your inner thighs and hips as he presses harder, a louder moan as he breaches you, tongue joining in once more to help wreck you.
Again it wasn’t as harsh or as rough as you were used to. He was taking his time, being kind of sweet with it, doing his best to work you up and prep you, luxuriating in the taste and feel of you on his tongue and fingers. Listening to the sweet sounds of how much you were enjoying it.
As much as he wanted to make you cum just from this, wanted to see you fall apart for him in the beautiful way that only you can, he wanted to relieve himself. He was close to being painfully hard, was needing you so much he was grinding his still clothed erection not so subtly on the bed below him.
Your eyes were closed, hips stirring, focusing on the feeling, your breathing had picked up and you were moaning his name and he couldn’t wait, he just couldn’t.
The whine that tore from you was involuntary at the loss of contact as he pulled back. “Shhh, I know, fuck, I know, I’ll make it alll better.”
His voice sounded a bit strained, sounded like he needed this just as much as you did. Your eyes peek back open to see him sitting up on his knees between your spread legs, quickly removing his own clothing. You took in every inch of skin that was revealed to you, propping yourself a little, hand reaching out and brushing over his lower stomach, teasing the idea of dragging your fingers down further, his eyes were on your hand and damn, you really had him tonight didn’t you?
You pushed further, hand brushed against him and his breath caught and that made you smile, you needed so much more. Underwear pulled down and your hand wrapped around his shaft, grip firm and he breathed out your name, moving closer, starting to climb over you again and you move, one solid pump that had his whole body stiffen.
“Christ-”
You do it again, and again, thumb over the slit, catching some pre-cum and moving with even more purpose, a twist of your wrist and you spread the wetness, it makes his hips buck, fucking into your hand. Your other hand finds the back of his neck and you pull him closer as you work his cock, when he was close enough you were the one laying down extra affection, kisses up his neck until you are near enough to his ear to softly ask, “You alright there, Bo?”
Hot breath fanning over your neck, uneven before he answers, “Fi-fine sweetheart, fuck-ing, ughh, perfect-”
You bit down lightly on the side of his throat, pumping your hand harder and asking, “You sure? Seeming real needy there.”
He huffs out a laugh, “Shu-shut up.” And you can’t resist it as cliche’ as it is, “Make me.”
Pulling him closer still, kissing him deeply, hand still jerking him off, your hands were too good, so soft and you knew how to touch him so well, if you kept this up he wasn’t going to last, especially when he was kissing you too. Your tongue probing into his mouth, naked skin sliding against his, moving against his body, one leg hooking around his hip, he needed to get inside you.
He didn’t want to stop kissing you but if he didn’t communicate it he’d be spilling between your bodies instead of inside of you and that simply wouldn’t do. His hand closes around your wrist as he speaks to you between kisses, “Shit, ease up.”
You kiss him again, deeper before pulling back, picking up the pace as you touched him, “What? Can’t handle it, Sinclair?”
You were being such a tease tonight, but you couldn’t help it. You had the upper hand for once and were loving the change of pace, as touched you were by all of the sweetness and emotion you wanted to see more. You were feeling greedy and wanted to indulge yourself.
“Just, God, wanna fuck you already, okay?” He tried to sound more like himself. Key word there is try. He was practically panting from what you had done so far. “What’s stopping you then?”
Your hand tangled in his hair, your eyes meeting his, allowing yourself to get a little softer again, “I’m all yours.”
He let out a groan as he forced your hand away, “You really are, aren’t you?”
He had one hand on your hip, his other hand between your bodies to line himself up right and thank God for all the prep earlier and how slick you still were, he pushes in with a long and low moan that you match with equal intensity.
The pleasure is almost enough to make you stop breathing. His forehead rests against yours and you both linger for a moment, him soaking in the feeling of your wet heat and you loving the delicious stretch of him inside. You kiss him again, over and over, tugging on his hair lightly, hips squirming as you need some proper stimulation, you beg a little against his mouth, “Bo, please?”
“Fuck, anythin’ for you-” He started to move, hips moving back and driving forward, pace is slow but purposful, “-anythin’ you want.”
His hands can’t stay in one spot, wander and touch, desperate to convey the depth of his feeling, rocking into you again and again. You can barely string together a normal sentence, when he changes it up, angles his hips just right to hit that spot that makes you panted out his name over and over.
“You take me so well.”
Tone of voice was laced with so much pleasure as he praised you. So many words of encouragement, your back is arching and you sound and feel like, fuck, how is he supposed to come up with the words to describe what you feel like? How can he think of anything when you are clinging to him, clenching around him- The realisation hits him all at once just like the one earlier at breakfast that day.
He was close. How did he get so close so fast?
If he didn’t try to distract himself from you, try to distance himself from all of this, the sights and sounds and sensations he would cum in two minutes.
“Bo! Right there! Oh my Goddd-” And you weren’t helping when you were moaning nigh incoherently into his ear like that.
He needed you to cum at least once before he did, needed to feel it like he needed air. His hand between your bodies to help you along, he just needed to hold out a little more, he could feel your own end was approaching before he got his hand involved. His pace was faltering, he tried to just keep going, just a bit longer, you moaning and panting, crying out his name, nails biting into his shoulders.
He begged. You made Bo Sinclair beg, hand between your legs as he fucked into you, “Need you to cum, please, please, I gotta feel it, please-”
How can you say no when it feels this good and he sounds so pretty when he begs?
Him whining out your name with an extra hard thrust and that is what did it. Choking out his name as you tip over the edge and finally cum, pleasure intense as it sweeps over you. He can’t stop himself, hips stuttering as he allows his own end to over take him.
Face buried in the crook of your neck as he cums inside with a shudder and a strained groan as he fills you. Buried to the hilt as he is struggling to catch his breath, doesn’t want to leave or pull away, wants to soak in this moment for as long as humanly possible. Normally he might have stressed about cumming so fast but he was much too happy to worry about any of that at the moment.
You kiss the side of his face, fingers in his hair again, tugging him up, and as soon as you can meet his gaze again you finally say those words back, “Love you too.”
His arms are around you, his body almost crushing yours from how close he needs to have you.
Dinner still needs to be made, you were both getting hungry but that can wait a while longer yet. Right now he just needed to be here with you, not question anything and just bask in how lucky he is to have someone like you all to himself.
#ALRIGHT#Bo Sinclair X Reader#BHF asks#BHF writing#I worked so fucking hard on this#I hope you all love it#Like my GOD did I try on this#Anyway#Enjoy#Also yes I DID put more MIKA lyrics in this#No I won't apologize#Also so sorry to Erika for the murder
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im confused as to why is entrapta being autistic ableist? like others reactions to her? /gen
Because she doesn't give a single crap about anyone else because all she cares about is playing with her shiny new toys and literally sided with a genocidal facist and helped him on his quest to destroy the planet because it gave her more opportunity to play with machines, and then we aren't supposed to be mad at her for this, because she's autistic, so it's not her fault that she willingly sided with a genocidal facist and helped him destroy the fucking universe.
This is a trope I see over and over again and I'm sick of it. Autistic or otherwise mentally disabled characters who put everyone around them in mortal peril and have no fucking morals at all, but it's okay, because they're autistic, so they don't know any better, and we shouldn't be mad at them, and they shouldn't have to face consequences for their behavior!
It's demonization and infantilization all in one. Autistic people are evil and would let millions of people die without batting an eye if it means they get to play with new science, but it's not their fault, they're autistic, we shouldn't hold them accountable.
I'm sick of it. Entrapta isn't the first and she won't be the last.
When the other princesses are rightfully pissed off at her betrayal, they're portrayed as being bullies because she's bad at making friends. As thought the problem is that she's awkward and not that she willingly sided with a genocidal facist and helped him commit genocide.
The fact that she literally leapt at the chance to help commit genocide is never fucking brought up or dealt with. We're just supposed to feel bad for her because she's Autistic And Doesn't Know How To Make Friends.
You know how fucking Elon Musk recently "came out" as autistic?
Yeah.
That fucking sums up everything with Entrapta. She's fucking evil and doesn't give a single shit who gets hurt because of her actions, and we're supposed to make excuses for her and be okay with that because she's A Little Baby Autistic Who Doesn't Know How To Make Friends :( :( :( :( :( :( :( /s
I'm sick of this shit. If you search my blog for the word "Entrapta" you should see all the other posts I've made on this subject because it's pissed me off since the getgo.
When they introduced her I was so fucking excited to see a weird character with her dark color scheme and weird movements be a hero.
And then they said no. She's going to leap at the chance to join a genocidal facist and fall in love with the genocidal facist and help him commit genocide because she doesn't give a single flying fuck about anyone but herself and her Shiny Toys.
I hate this trope and I hate allistics and I hate this show.
And you know what. I don't fucking know anything about the writers but if one of them is autistic and they still did this? That doesn't mke it okay, that makes it a million fucking times worse and they are a fucking traitor.
If you try to argue with me on this post that Hordak isn’t a facist and the Horde didn’t commit genocide, shut the fuck up and block me. You are going to be blocked and you’re going to be reported. Literally just block me. If you defend genocide and facism, you are a horrible person.
#actually autistic#spop#entrapta#She-Ra and the Princesses of Power#SPOP crit#spop critical#fuck entrapta#literally fuck her#I hate her and I hate the writers and I hate all fucking allistic people who do this shit with every fiber of my being#Ableism#fuck this shit#allistics owe me fucking money
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