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norel-ravenclaw · 2 months ago

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Dark Magik & Angel Dust

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Featured characters: Angel Dust x gn reader (89% platonic vibes)

Genre: Angst & comfort (sfw)

Word count: 1375

Description: A ritual spell goes wrong, leaving you stranded in hell and face to face with a spider.

How long has it been? Since you discovered a spell book in the back of the cupboard? Since you cast your first spell and realised that magic really does exist?

The new book you found had all sorts of spells you’d never imagined, including one for a ritual that you couldn’t resist trying. Knowledge of the secrets of the universe? Why not? This could change everything. …Fix everything.

You brush off the dust from your hands and look over the spell circle you’ve painstakingly laid out on the forest floor. Bowls of ingredients are laid out at each pentagram point, branches of the right wood channel the energy lines between them.

Taking the ritual obsidian knife, you prick each fingertip and leave a drop in each bowl. Then you flick open your lighter and set each of them ablaze. A pleasant warmth surrounds you as you begin chanting the spell.

Wind blows around you, picking up intensity until you have to shield your eyes from it. Suddenly it makes you lose your footing, and you stumble backwards.

“-oh! Hey!” A distorted voice shouts beside you.

Your eyes fly open as the vortex of energy dissipates, ears ringing. Right in front of you is the spell circle, seared into… concrete? But more importantly, the serene quiet of the forest is gone, replaced with gunfire and shouting.

As your vision clears, a tall figure looms ahead of you, a gun in their hands.

You scramble back, eyes widening as a spider-like demon glares down at you. “What the…?!”

“Hey! What the hell are you doing here?” they demand.

Heart racing, you rake a hand through your hair. “Is this some kind of vision?” But a searing streak of pain across your arm answers that question for you.

Not wanting to wait to find out the intentions of this demon, you rush to get back on your feet, running for your life.

The demon is faster, and soon you’re cornered in a filthy alleyway. “Wait! Please, this is… wrong, something went wrong!”

The demon steps into the flickering beam of a broken streetlight, white fur matted with blood. “Damn, I wasn’t expecting a sinner to manifest in the middle of that fight. You okay?”

“…Sinner? I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I have to get out of here.” You shove over a trash can, buying you just a second to race back to your spell circle.

Frantically, you crouch down and start chanting the spell again.

“Hey! Get back here!”

You try scraping your pricked fingers over the lines to try to activate it again, but you look down in surprise at the sight of your hand. …It does’t quite look human.

The demon grabs your arm and starts dragging you away. “You crazy or something?! Get out of here!”

“No! I have to get back! What happened?!”

“I don’t know, but you’re dead now. You’re stuck in hell and you’re going to die twice if you don’t get a grip!”

You stare up at the back of the demon’s head in horror. “Dead?!”

He shoves you into a partially collapsed abandoned building, slamming the door behind you. “Yeah. What did you think happened?” You finally get a good look at his face, oddly coloured eyes narrowed in curiosity, pity. Not menace.

“I was casting a spell, a-a ritual. It should have worked! Why would it send me to hell-“ Finally you understand. Learning that hell exists is a cosmic secret, sure…. But you never would have guessed the means of discovering that secret would be so drastic. That the writer of the new spell book you found in a shop would be… evil.

Fists in your hair, you scream in rage and despair. “NO!!” You lean forward on your knees, usually hot tears stream down your face. When the demon moves closer, you don’t even try to move away.

“I don’t really know what you’re talking about, but… I’m sorry, kid.”

You gasp in surprise as he pulls you into his arms in a hug. “No… What do I do?”

He leans back and sighs. “I found this new place last week, total joke. But it’s clean. Mostly. And safer than anywhere else in this shithole. They’ll take you if you pretend to behave sometimes.”

Shaking and staring at your hands, he pulls you to your feet. You start marching behind him across town, dodging between fights and canibalistic picnics until you reach the top of a hill and he pushes open the gate.

The next few minutes is a surreal blur of frenzied introductions and monstrous faces, and then you’re back down to earth sitting on a bed.

The demon sits next to you, sighing and putting one of his many hands on your shoulder. “Listen, I’m sorry about all this. It sucks. But uh, maybe things won’t be so terrible? At least I’ll take care of ya.”

You meet his eye at last. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Kinda pointless to just let ya die for nothing, right? Besides.” He falls back on the bed, crossing his arms behind his head. “I’m bored.”

“Oh.” You lay back next to him and stare up at the ceiling. Momentarily your attention is stolen by the… faded painting of a bear in a clown suit riding a unicycle on a tightrope. “What…?”

The demon laughs. “The fuck? Right??”

His genuinely happy laugh grounds you a little more and you look over at him. “Sorry, what was your name again?”

“Angel Dust.” He rolls to face you and walks his fingers up your arm. “Let me know if ya ever wanna fuck~”

“…I beg your pardon?!”

Angel just smirks, amused. “What? It’s kinda my thing. So, witchcraft is your thing, huh?”

“I don’t even know where to start with how wrong that is, and I don’t have the energy to explain it to you.”

He laughs again. “So I should call you bitch rather than witch?”

You grab a pillow and swing it down at him, and he catches it against his chest, laughing his ass off. “Get out of here, will you?!”

“Hahaha! No.” His shit eating grin has a tinge of melancholy that you can’t ignore. “You’re stuck with me now.”

You both fall quiet, and he looks like he’s mentally cursing himself for letting you notice. As his eyes slip away from yours, he asks, “You’re not hurt, are ya?”

“No. …Thanks to you.”

“Don’t mention it. But you’re gonna have to learn self defence if you want to survive more than a week. Maybe your… magic shit will work here?”

“…Yeah, maybe.”

He smiles wryly at you, then reaches out, somewhat slowly and pulls you closer to him. The pillow he’s been holding is now in the perfect place for you to rest your head on. “Chill for a bit, kay? We’re gonna take care of you.”

Holding you gently, the two of you just lay there, letting your heart rate slow. He tentatively runs a hand over your back, then your arm. But suddenly he recoils.

“What?”

“I thought you said you weren’t hurt. You’re bleeding.”

You look down and remember that a bullet grazed you. “Oh… It’s not bad.”

“Yeah, but it could get messy if you don’t take care of it. Trust me.” Angel gets up and pulls a first aid kid out of the medicine cabinet in the bathroom.

You sit up and roll up your sleeve, hissing as he rubs ointment on it.

“Shut up, I thought it wasn’t bad?” he teases. Seeing your blush, he grins. “Shy, are ya?” He leans in close just to mess with you, and you push a hand against his face. “Hahaha! Fine. Let me clean you up.”

He wraps a bandage around the cut with care and skill, making a show of embarrassing you with a kiss to it when he’s done.

“Done yet?”

“Yeah. Now where’s my thank you kiss?”

You roll your eyes and curl back up on the bed, listening to his footsteps as he returns the kit and comes back to you. He climbs up and hugs you from behind big spoon style.

Exhausted, you start to fall asleep, all problems gone from your mind in the demon’s warm, safe embrace.

@gabryviolin10 so sorry for the wait, love! I was so excited for your request, and now I finally had time to do it! Hope you like it!

#hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin angel #angel dust #angel dust x reader #hazbin hotel angel x reader #hazbin angel dust x reader #norel writes

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monstrouslyobsessed · 2 years ago

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Concept : Reader is a shrine priestess and have a crush on the shrine priest. But he is so powerful that people made a contract with the snake demon. They let him eat the priest in exchange for not attacking the village. The priest tried to fight the snake, but he was defeated. The villagers cut off his arms, so the snake can eat him better. Reader tried to save him, but was locked away in the shrine. But the priest cursed the village and his fused with the snake making him a snake monster he killed all the villagers and cut off six arms to replace those he lost. And now he can claim his sweet shrine maiden all for himself. (Sorry if its quite long and detailed, do as you wish) Thanks! —anonymous

—a/n: alright, i’ll bite and do this one with my own take, but please add the source behind such suggestions next time lol this one is originally from the compilation manga ive read forever ago, Hachishaku Hachiwa Keraku Meguri (TW!!! under-age, noncon, horror, extremely dead dove!!!), specifically the 4th story. i…don’t recommend reading every story btw, some of them are very…yikes, but the 4th one is pretty good if you can get past a certain issue (namely, the mc’s vague age range). the main difference is that the monster is a woman and mc’s a guy.

if you want my personal recs, stick with reading 3rd (the statues, is okay), 4th (6-armed snake lady, fave if only because of the monster’s beautiful design and backstory but wished the mc would be someone older), and 5th (swamp-worm monster in the forest, warning, pregnancy/birthing is involved, is okay) story and ignore the rest. 2nd (the monster on the road) is okay, actually, but i hated the monster’s creepy old man design lol rest is just a big fat no to me for various reasons.

anyway….i rambled enough. i think…i might actually keep this character, even if he isn't entirely original and is (almost) literally the genderbent version from the manga. i actually envisioned him with dark-colored skin though. hm, so the setting might even be different! i’ll let yall decide~enjoy!

—tw / tags: gn reader, horror, gore, violence, imprisonment, neglect, implied multiple deaths, amputations, general yandere themes, sfw…ish

—featured character(s): 6-armed snake-god / cursed priest

You can hear the screaming in your ears, the horrible gut-wrenching shrieks heralding the arrival of death. The earth rumbled distantly beneath your feet, striking unspeakable fear in your cold veins, pounding your heart, and your empty stomach twisting with nausea. You shuddered and your voice came out weak, dehydrated, “N-no…”

Raking your throbbing nails down the wood, bloody raw from scratching and pounding on the chained door, you fell to your knees and bowed your head. You’ve warned them, that the demon would not accept the trade—or that the priest wouldn’t retaliate in some way. A choke erupted from your dusty throat at the vision of the priest you cherished so, so much flashed within your mind.

His warming smile and the crinkles in the corners of his eyes, had transformed into something wrathful and malicious. His expression became one that spoke of murder, of dark, malevolent intent, as the hateful village men severed his arms and fed him into the yawning mouth of the snake-god. It wasn’t his cruel fate that had broken your heart and shattered it into pieces though.

The very moment before he disappeared into the slicked depth of the demon’s belly, the priest saw you and wore a horrified face. With blood tears running down his eyes, he interrupted his furious cursing with a soft whisper of your name. You remembered screaming through your tears and fighting against the fisted hands of burly men then, when the snake-god folded its mouth shut and swallowed him whole.

That was the last you’d seen of him and wept his name as the men dragged you from the forest clearing, satisfied that you were too weak to save the one they all feared.

He shouldn’t have died fearing for you.

As they’d thrown you into the dilapidated shrine, you were numbed with fury and sorrow and shouted that the demon would hunger for their flesh once more, that the priest had cursed them all, when they slammed the door shut and leave you for the dead. Your pleas and cries grew hoarse as you screamed your grief to the sky. There was no reply, only jeers from the village in the distance, as if laughing about your foolishness, that you shouldn’t have fallen in love with the priest.

Their cruelty was beyond your comprehension

You had no idea how long time had passed, there was no light in this rotting shrine, not even a single peek of any warm sunlight or the moon’s soft glow. There was no water, for your throat ran dry and your skin tightened on your bones, and there was no food as your stomach stopped rumbling some time ago. The villagers intended to let you die alone, pitifully and bitterly alone.

It could’ve been days, it could’ve been weeks, when you rose your head from the coarse ground, confused. Weakly, your hand reached towards the wooden door, and your calloused fingers traced around its edges, feeling along the rough surface and finding the raw marks you left behind, until they settled on a crook. Something familiar electrified the air, the sense of power pressed into your senses. You furrowed your brows—before fear sunk in your nerves once more.

The demon had returned to welt its hunger.

Screams followed and you remained in the shrine, with no more tears to shed. You couldn’t weep for the cruel men and your tongue was too dry for you to utter even a single prayer for the innocent children you once tended to. You bowed your head between your knees, but you were still alive.

You still knew fear, trembling with the desire to live.

Your hands were shaking wildly, but you forced them back into prayer as the screams continued unabated. The walls rattled with thunderous crashes. Louder and louder, until finally, after hours of agony, they stopped. Silence followed.

Only silence and the smell of blood, lingered. And an ominous feeling.

You slowly rose from your hunched position, your gaze fixed on the wooden door. The air had turned heavy with tension, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. Something approached, quietly grinding the pebbles and dirt underfoot as it moved closer and closer.

Somehow, the walls started swaying and the sound of cracking timber reached your ears, rising above the deafening sounds of your heartbeats and your shuddering breathing. You clasped your hands into a prayer once more and begged the gods to answer, to spare you from the belly of the snake-god. Your prayers became desperate begging, for mercy.

As if in response to your prayer, the ceiling creaked and groaned and a low growl emanated from above. Your eyes widened, and you stumbled backward, barely catching yourself on a nearby pillar. The walls rumbled, and cracks began appearing along the floorboards.

Then, the light.

It cut into the pitch-black darkness you’d been trapped in for days and blinded you. Clasping your hands over your eyes, wincing in discomfort as if light burned you, something exploded overhead, shattering the roof tiles and raining tiny chunks onto your head. You flinched at the loud noise, shielding your face and ducking your head between your legs from any further danger.

As the crackling groan quietened, you remained still—half expecting the pain to cut into your skin and long teeth tearing into your brittle flesh. But, silence hangs thickly above into the air. As if in waiting for you to unveil your eyes to the world.

You hesitated, before slowly lifting your head, squinting and blinking against the light. When you adjusted to the brightness, you blinked and saw shadows. Shadows cast by a massive serpentine being coiling amidst the splinters and rocks littering the ground all around you, staring down at you with glowing golden eyes.

Your breath caught in your throat and you staggered forward, your arms reaching above your head, “—! You…you came back…?” Your words broke and dissolved into hiccupping sobs that shook your frail frame.

Long discolored arms distended from the being’s side, wrapping around you in a dangerous embrace. The priest’s pale face buried into the crook between your neck and shoulder, nuzzling into your dirt-caked hair and releasing a deep purr. Its body vibrated and you felt yourself being lifted from the ground. Your arms instinctively snaked themselves tighter around its thin neck, your cheek pressing against its strangely scaled skin, and you squeezed your eyes tightly shut. “Don’t leave me…please don’t leave me again…” You cried, with rivers of tears falling down your cheeks.

Tears you thought were completely dried out.

This was not the priest you remembered, his ashen body protruding from the mouth of the dead-eyed snake-god, his grin jarring with a smile too large for his handsome face, and having a few arms too many stitched to his sides. But as his fiery golden eyes warmed and his touches overly gentle on your skin, you knew. This was the same man you loved, the very man who never ceased to cherish you and always looked for ways to make you smile on bad days. Even after all this time. Even when everything else changed, he remained steadfast, loving, and kind.

—though, only to you, as he held you as if you were the most precious jewel in his world. Despite his loving gaze, he was dressed in the blood and guts of those he’d gleefully slaughtered for their slights against him, glimmering on his eternally long tail in the moonlight. Yes, he gripped your tiny body tighter to his emaciated body, all he’ll ever need is you.

—end

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fruitanddarkness · 2 years ago

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This was going to be a night that she could never forget.

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

For however long Kanae had left to live, this living memory would likely haunt her dreams and eventually even seep its way into her work. What would the other Hashira think of her actions?

'Foolish. Utterly foolish of you.''You could have been killed!'That was quite stupid of you!''Demons are not worth your time. You're a Hashira, you should know better than to risk your life so carelessly.'

Shame and regret would make themselves known in Kanae's heart if she did not succeed. Their tendrils already could be felt as they brought about the Her dutied unfulfilled, and a promise to her treasured family broken... 'Remain set in your convictions. This one is tricky, but there is still hope to succeed. Stay present, and have full faith in your actions.'

Sweet eyes continued to gaze at the other as she began to walk towards the exit of the village and into the light forested area that surrounded the village. The chilled weather around them caused her already fetching features to stand out more. A faint flush on her cheeks appeared to be a blooming hue of rose on snow-white skin. Painted lips once unremarkable now took on the shade of plum blossoms. With luck, the maiden hoped these traits would continue to captivate the demon and keep him beside her. From what she remembered during her journey here, there were clearings and pathways that led to deeper and denser parts of the woods that saw less foot traffic. It would take half an hour to walk there, but it would be ideal if they could remain there until daybreak, whether in conversation or combat.

"Doma... It's a name that suits you~ How could I possibly forget?"

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

Broken down, Doma's name likely meant 'The Polished Child.' Yes.. he was able to mimic a human so closely. Polished beautifully like a precious gemstone.. but underneath that shine was nothing. A hollow core with a beautiful alluring shell that drew countless souls searching for any glimmer of hope... she could have easily been one of those people who sought out the Eternal Paradise cult had it not been a Hashira that saved her and her sister on that dreadful night. Gyomei held the Kocho's eternal gratitude for inspiring them to become something greater than they ever could have believed to be. To become the light and hope this world so desperately needed when shrouded in fear and despair. The world itself was.. indifferent to the suffering or success its inhabitants found themselves subjected to. Cold, cruel.. uncaring, it was all in the perceptions which dictated such things. The relationships between predator and prey illustrated this perfectly; one was happy and content with catching their next meal, while another's life was tragically cut short. Without a willingness to gather the courage to change, many would never understand this and seek protection and salvation through others who did not always possess good intentions...

The human could feel indigo-tinted claws pressing ever so softly against her flesh as frigid fingers laced themselves between her own. Kanae swore she could feel electricity run up her very bones as the gaps between shared hands were shut. The warm hand did not fight against it's new position and, with a repressed shudder, returned the gesture.

"Hm... I can't say I would know. Tell me. How am I different? What is it you are feeling that swirls like a blizzard inside of you?"

Stall. Endure it for the survival of innocent civilians to survive the night. Lives were to be protected and saved above all else, even if the demon is allowed to escape. Even if your life is forfeit. But she could not allow herself to enter that temple before her crow returned.

New Muse Arrival: Kanae Kocho

#Tag: RP #Tag: A Rose among Wisteria (Kanae Kocho)#fallesto

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astaroth1357 · 4 years ago

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Demigod MC Series: Demeter

Have I been using this series to vicariously punish Belphie for the events of Season 1? I cannot confirm nor deny that statement.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter

Lucifer

Didn't think too much of the "human" when they popped out of the portal. Sure they had a straw hat and a huge basket full of produce but it wasn’t like they were… Wait… No… Were they…?

Oh no. Oh nonononono, this is not good…!!

Demeter is notoriously doting and protective of her children (see her freakout and breakdown after Hades abducted of Persephone as proof) and they've pretty much done the EXACT. SAME. THING. here!!

It was a mad scramble by him and Diavolo to contact and appease their godly Mother Bear before she came roaring down to Devildom herself to turn them all into barley. Thankfully, Zeus must have intervened at some point because though she was indeed PISSED, she didn't threaten to barge in… yet.

She made one thing very clear. Bend so much as a single hair on her precious child's head and there would be WAR…

The MC received a 24 hour security detail after that. Just Mammon wasn't going to cut it, he needed NO chances. It was a full rotation of Mammon, him and Beel for the entirety of their stay (Asmo and Levi both threw hissy fits at the prospect of babysitting, Satan couldn’t be trusted not to kill them just to irritate him, and Belphie was out for… obvious reasons).

In some ways, it wasn’t so bad. The MC was a very mild sort of person, rather even tempered. He’d dare say they were pleasant, mostly content to just tend to their gardens and be out in the moonlight…

But the problem was, he just could not convince them to stay OUT of nature. Including the forests, which were full of hellish beasts fully intent on gnawing their flesh from their bones… and their specialty was plants, not animals, sooo…

Their habit of sneaking out to wander the woods got so bad that he very nearly considered pulling a Belphie 2 and locking them in the basement for their own good. But Devil knows what damage their mother would do if she found out…

At least they make for pleasant company… And Diavolo seems to like them quite a bit himself so the mortal gets a pass from him. Now if they’d only consider their own safety for a change…

Mammon

They make him a KILLING.

Like, no seriously. Their produce is insane!! He’s never tasted food so good, especially stuff that’s come fresh from the ground! It only took a few berries for Mammon to throw on a straw hat himself and start harvesting! He’s a farmer now, baby!!

Weeellll not quite. He’s still absolutely only in it for the money, but anything he brings to a farmer’s market goes so fast that he can hardly care about the labor! He’s never made this much Grimm in his life!! And it’s totally legit for a change!

He bought himself another car, paid off half of his debt, and even got Levi back that 2 or 3 grand he leant him centuries ago. Really, Mammon’s living his best life and it’s all thanks to MC!

It’s a good thing his blatant grifting doesn’t hurt his relationship with them at all, in fact they seem to enjoy having his help regardless. They bring him drinks on hot days or invite him on picnics and stuff, it’s… it’s really sweet. They’re very nice to him and he appreciates it…

But… COULD YA JUST STAY PUT ALREADY???

It drives him INSANE that they won’t stay out of dangerous places!! After he started caring about them for more than just a meal ticket it only got even worse!!

He’s not usually one for monitoring someone’s every move (that kind of control freak behavior is more a Lucifer thing) but he eventually had to set up familiars around the House just to keep them from sneaking out at night...

What was so interesting out there anyway?? There wasn’t any kind of plant that he could bring them himself! They didn’t have any need to be out there!!

They’d keep telling him they’d be fine but it’s not like he’s going to actually buy that. They were too… nice to be dangerous or anything so why would he believe them?

No more running off, MC! Please, he’s beggin’ ya!!

Leviathan

Wait, gardening? Like, being outdoors and stuff? Ew. No thanks, he’ll pass.

That was more or less his first reaction when they showed up and it never really got much better than that…

He admits that they’re friendly and it’s not like he dislikes them or anything, but their thing so far from his thing that they just don’t have a lot in common… you know?

For starters, they get So. Antsy. when they’re inside for too long! He tried to invite them to a marathon once, but they could hardly keep still and kept looking around like they were searching for a window… He said, “to jump out of.” They insisted just for some fresh air, but he didn’t buy it...

They’re nice enough to listen to his rants, but they’re barely ever inside for him to do so and like HELL is he going to leave his room and stand around out there for that long. Ranting is at least a one to two hour engagement! What if he gets hot out there? And have you SEEN Devildom bees?? Hell no!!

He has, however, asked them on multiple occasions to reproduce flowers he’s seen in different anime, especially ones that have a very unique look and they’ve done some real wonders with that!

He can now claim to be the only person to ever own a Ruby-Jade Vine plant, straight from the pages of TSL when it was used to brew tea for the Lord of Lechery during his brief illness and-is anyone even still listening anymore?

The point is, it’s a flower so rare it was imaginary but now HE has it!... or had it for about a week until his utter incompetence of all things plant killed it…

He begged the MC for another but they were out of the plants they needed to make it and would have to go back to the human world to find more… He’s still mourning his loss… Poor Henry 4.0…

Satan

Well… He’s called this MC “salt of the Earth” and he does truly mean it. Take of that what you will.

He doesn’t get much in the way of intellectual conversation out of this mortal UNLESS he’s talking about plants, farming, or botany… Interesting topics and complex in their own right to be sure, but that’s pretty much their wheelhouse and they like it there.

That being said, the feats that they can perform are genuinely mind-blowing! They are the ONLY person he has ever met who can cultivate the Devildom’s own ultra-rare Phantom Orchid, a plant only blooms when it reaches a perfect state of undeath (i.e. both taken care of and neglected just enough so that it's only barely alive. The balance is so tricky to master that one hasn’t bloomed down there for centuries!)

There’s also something just genuinely relaxing about watching them work or helping them in the gardens… More so than he’d ever expected from such a simple activity.

He admits that he’s taken quite a few strolls through the flower-filled courtyard of the Demon Lord’s Castle just to admire its beauty... But anything that they can grow just blows all of that out of the water!

They even taught him several magic botanical techniques so now he can grow some pretty mad plants himself. Lucifer never expected to find that giant Venus Flytrap in his closet, but one was there regardless. 😏

Just… out of curiosity one day, he asked the MC if they could make him a new kind of catnip. Not for any nefarious reason! You know… just for research purposes…

The nip they made was so effective that the House grounds were FILLED with nipped-up cats for a whole month! He was in Heaven!! (and Lucifer practically wiped those plants from existence so he couldn’t get any more… asshole...)

That must have inspired them because they apparently made a demons-only version that they told him about WELL after the fact. Had he known, he probably would have burned the stuff on principle... Do you know how dangerous demon-nip could be to them? Experiment responsibly, MC!

Asmodeus

Ehhhh, gardening SOUNDS like one of those things that should be super Devilgram-able, but then you realize how sweaty and dirty you get in the process and it’s a huge turn off… Sorry MC.

When they first came down to the Devildom, he thought two things: 1) Such a sweet little flower child, as adorable as they were, would never survive; and 2) even if they could, he would never ever see eye-to-eye with them on the “wonders” of getting all up in the dirt.

Well, he was right about 2, but certainly not 1. Personally, he thinks his brothers worry about them too much, they ARE still a demigod.

At one point he saw a pack of hellhounds almost trample one of their vegetable gardens and they lost it. Word to the wise, never try to take on a child of Demeter in their own garden. Those hounds were wrapped up in rose vines before they could even yelp...

Yeah, the MC would be fine.

That being said, while everybody else clamors over their produce, he thinks that their flowers are really where it’s at!

Taking just five minutes in one of their gardens is something else... He’s never seen blossoms as healthy and immaculate in all the Devildom before! Their beauty could (almost) rivals his own! What they do isn’t just a hobby, it’s an art.

He’s taken multiple pictures with their blossoms and they go viral every time. It’s so rare to actually see gorgeous, petal-filled flowers in the Devildom, most of the native plants are of the man-eating variety.

His only complaint about this MC is that they seem to feel much more at home in work clothes and dirt than they do in any sort of party-look he tries to give them… Cute as they are, they can afford to gussy up sometimes can’t they? Mud and grass stains don’t make for a good look, sorry.

Beelzebub

Beel gardens and the MC gardens as well. Add on that they seem to be able to grow all manner of fruits and veggies and he likes this one. A lot.

They had just finished apple-picking when the portal nabbed them so they had a massive basket of apples at the time. Naturally, Beel more or less stole the thing on sight, but the apples inside were so juicy and good that he almost shook them down for more on the spot!

Imagine his surprise when they, half pleadingly, explained to him that if he got them some seeds they could just grow more… and it wouldn’t even take that long.

To be clear, the formula he saw was this: Get seeds > bring seeds to mortal > mortal grows seeds > mortal makes endless supply of food….

Congratulations MC, you’ve now earned the sixthborn’s eternal loyalty after a grand total of… two minutes. He didn’t even know their name, but he was willing to take a bullet for them (provided he got more of those apples).

The next several months were spent with Beel attached to them to the hip in some way, but honestly? It was just so wholesome anyway…

If he’s helping in the garden, he never complains. He does most of the heavy lifting and actually likes being out there with them (unlike others...)

Many afternoons were spent sitting under fruit trees and talking. Sometimes, they go to the trouble of preparing a picnic or something but it would always inevitably end with Beel plucking the whole tree clean of whatever ripe (or unripe) fruit he can get his hands on with a smile.

The MC never minded though. That’s just another excuse to grow more, right?

His only problem was when the MC would sneak out to the forest… especially when they get too antsy and just go alone.

He HATES it when they do that! How is he supposed to keep them safe if they just wander off?? He knows that they have a special connection to nature and all, but it isn’t safe…

He’s flown in and scooped them back up to the House on numerous occasions and his “talking tos” get sterner after every rescue... Please stay put, MC! He’d have so many reasons to be sad if you were eaten… ��

Belphegor

Okay, he was looking for a capable, if not gullible, human. Not a shoeless flower hippy!

He honestly wasn't expecting much out of this one... Damn their little heart because they did genuinely believed his lies, it’s just that they weren't… well… They were really good at gardening.

… And it grew kind of hard to keep hating them whenever they'd show up just to give him fresh berries or a bouquet to see him smile… He may claim that his heart is made of nightmares and orphan tears, but who doesn’t enjoy being given a batch of flowers?

Damn their sweetness too… Right to here.

When it came time to kill them he had a heavier heart than he thought he would, but kind of saw it like putting down the sacrificial lamb. Gotta be done to reach better goals... Stiff upper lip and all that.

Unfortunately for him, they had taken to carrying packets of demon-nip with them as a self-defense measure…

He wasn’t exactly sure what he expected when they shouted “Get nipped!” at him mid-attack, but it wasn’t a face full of some smelly herb! Like, really smelly…! Actually, that smelt kind of good… Hold on.

Turns out murderous rage really doesn’t last long after you get what is effectively ultra-strong catnip thrown in your face. They ended up having to go and tell Lucifer what happened themselves because Belphie was way too blissed out on the floor to do anything... They were legitimately worried they might have fried his brain...

He’s told the effects of the demon-nip lasted three days. He doesn’t know, because he hardly remembers any of it... They described him as like he was high on “weed” and “ecstasy” at the same time but he doesn’t know what either of those are either so it wasn’t helpful…

Truthfully, they were so nice to him while he was recovering that he couldn’t even be mad afterwards so all's well that ends well? Either way, he’s sleeping under their orchard trees from now on. It’s peaceful out there...

They burnt all that nip though. It’s some strong stuff...

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me demigods #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios

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after-witch · 4 years ago

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In Sickness [Yandere Sesshoumaru x Reader]

Title: In Sickness [Yandere Sesshoumaru x Reader]

Synopsis: You were not often alone with the demon lord who took you captive. Then again, you were not often touched by the demon lord who took you captive, either.

Word Count: 2029

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, mentions of illness

You were not often alone with the demon lord who took you captive.

Then again, you were not often touched by the demon lord who took you captive. Yet here he was, bent over you, hands wringing out a rag he’d just dipped in a pail of river water. You barely register his fingers glancing against your skin, the slight sharpness of his nail edges, as he lays the damp rag on your forehead.

You can’t help it. At the touch of the damp rag, you sigh, soft and pleased. The coolness is blissful, a brief respite from the fever that has been wearing you down for days.

“You are a nuisance,” he mumbles, grimacing at droplets of river water that dribbled their way onto the elevated mat he’d set you on. To keep you away from the cold ground, you supposed, but you hadn’t the ability to care about his unusual generosity.

Once it had become clear that your illness was no minor trifle, he’d sent Rin away with Jaken as unwilling, grumpy but admittedly loyal protector. Where they were, you didn’t know and truthfully, you didn’t have the strength to care. It was hard enough to muster up the energy to care about your own self, drenched with sweat yet wracked with bouts of shivers that alternated with fevers that made your dreams terribly real.

It had started small. A tickle in your throat, a bit of weariness. You were tired, more so than usual, more so than you expected. But it wasn’t until the fever came and refused to leave, until your legs became red and swollen and could no longer carry you, until you started to become delirious, that Sesshoumaru had taken direct action. Jaken and Rin were gone, and you were taken somewhere. A cave? It was a shelter, at least, something more permanent than the campfires and group sleeps you were used to in recent months.

And Sesshoumaru had tended to you, quietly, without much in the way of conversation. You slept most of the time, half-awakening to hear him grinding medicine and waiting until it was placed on your swollen legs, or in your mouth mixed with hot water, to fall back into a listless sleep. You wonder how long you will be able to recall the feeling of his hands on you, the unusual way he sometimes bent over you and stared, checking your breathing, feeling your forehead.

It was intimate and uncomfortable, but you couldn’t be bothered to fight it.

You were just so sick. You were just so tired.

Yet you weren’t exactly a stranger to fatigue, to stress, particularly since the day you’d been forced to go with the demon. Stress dragged you down, often making you wish you could sleep for days, a luxury that was not afforded due to the frequently traveling nature of your captor.

That day that came back to you so often in your dreams, and was now a memory that ebbed and flowed with your fevers.

Did you talk about that day, in your feverish ramblings? Sesshoumaru acknowledged what you said sometimes only with passive noises, either uncaring or not wanting to encourage your incoherent words, intent on making you better and resuming the original course.

You really were a nuisance. So why did he keep you? You’d never asked him this out of fear. You’d certainly never questioned his decision to keep you alive, much less questioned why he wanted you in the first place. Why he agreed to the wild offering thrown before him.

Your village elders had begged the passing demon lord Sesshoumaru to lay waste to a band of lesser demons that plagued the village for years. Men, women, children, even animals--taken and slaughtered in unspeakable ways. Sometimes even killed in their homes, partially eaten. It was not unusual to wake in the morning to piercing cries from mothers finding their children mangled in their beds, or hear husbands wail in agony at the loss of much-beloved wives on the way home from fetching water.

You remember the day so clearly. Like the rest of the people in the village, you were watching from your home, peering out the door like a child, as the elders got down on their knees and begged for assistance from a demon who’d passed along the outskirts of the village.

You remember the shock of his long white hair, his luxurious clothing, his imposing presence that seemed strong enough to make you shake even from behind the safety of the doorway.

He didn’t even bother saying no. He’d simply glared at them as if they were dirt and began to walk away. Then one of the elders pivoted on his knees, spitting out words that would turn out to seal your fate: “We will give you one of our women as an offering! Please, o great lord!”

Still, he did not stop, and the elder let out a shaky cry. Then the elder stood on wobbling knees and looked wildly around the village until his eyes landed on your half-open door, your face barely peeking out of it. He was a man who’d witnessed your birth, a man who’d once given you a special treat for free when you tripped and skin your knee as a child, a man who had serious conversations with you in recent weeks about finding a husband as surely someone so dutiful and kind did not wish to remain with her parents forever.

He was also a man who’d run to your home, quick as you’d ever seen him, and yanked you out of the doorway until you fumbled and fell over on the ground. His hands were sweaty with fear yet they clamped around your wrist like a weight.

“This one will make an excellent servant! She can cook and clean and embroider! Or you may have her--or, or kill her! Whatever you wish! Please, please,” he’d begged again, bowing low while keeping an iron grip on your wrist.

You remember the sound of wind in your ears. You remember the feeling of pain in your knees, in your elbow, where you’d fallen hard. You remember the soft scratch of the door opening, the way your neck twisted around to see your parents and brother hiding behind one another, simply watching you. You remember the look on their faces, confused and scared yet saying nothing. Why didn’t they pull you back in?

And then you remember the sound of footsteps approaching. It was the demon. You looked up and he loomed over you, staring impassively at your form. He didn’t bother glancing at the elder, who was now trembling as much as you.

“Very well,” he said quietly, yet with a tone that was unmistakably firm. “She is mine. In exchange, I will kill some vermin for you.”

A sound rushed through the villagers from behind their doors. Sometimes when the wind blows just right, you’re reminded of it. It was a murmur, a gasp, a collective sound that was relief and sadness all at once. They would be saved from the demons at the expense of one of their own. A sacrifice.

You remember pulling on your arm, crying out something. Did you cry for your mother or your father? You can’t remember now. It didn’t matter. They had already shut the door, and the sound of your sister crying from behind it was the only noise that came through.

Someone tied a rope around your wrists. You kicked, and the rope was jerked until you were standing on numb legs. You had no choice but to walk, to be dragged, as the demon held onto the other end and simply left the village without another word. You cried, you begged, you feverishly cried out to the people watching from behind the doors, to the elders who clutched their hands but watched you leave all the same.

He took you. But he didn’t kill you, or have you, or even make you a tireless servant to his demonic whims. He simply expected you to pull your weight, or at least, that’s what the green imp--Jaken, you’d learned--told you was the expectation. So you helped to cook, you helped to mend clothes, you minded Rin. Nothing more or less than the others were expected to do.

You were kept bound when not doing your chores for a few weeks. When he’d taken the rope off, you’d waited for the moment and run--not that you got far or got anything than a few more weeks with the rope for your troubles.

You hadn’t tried to run for a while. It did no good. And the areas you’d traveled through were sometimes riddled with demons or wild animals that would surely kill someone such as yourself with little effort, should you try to make it on your own.

With Sesshoumaru, you were fed. You got enough rest. You were protected. Not that you didn’t wish every day to return home, to sit with your family for meals, to chase your sister around and tease her to get her to laugh when she felt blue. Not that you didn’t hate being sometimes treated like a pest, like a dog, when it wasn’t your choice to be here in the first place. But at least you were still alive, still able to hope you would see your family again some day.

A sigh from lips that weren’t your own draws you out of your memories, sweeping away the memory of that day and every day of captivity since like dirt being beaten out o f fabric.

You open your eyes, grateful for the soft light in the cave, and see Sesshoumaru sitting across from you, his back up against the stone wall. Your head feels clearer, less foggy, less hot, thanks to the rag and you decide to sit up a bit. Laying down all the time makes you feel dizzy. He watches with no change in expression as you wiggle yourself into a higher position, wiggling yourself back on the mat until you’re resting against the wonderfully cool stone.

You stare at each other for a few moments. The sound of the fire he’d set up further in the cave is low, crackling. You try to imagine him gathering wood, crouching low to do the mundane work that you and Rin and Jaken often did, and it seems ridiculous.

You try to imagine these things in order to avoid asking a question that has been on your mind since the moment the ropes had chafed your wrists, the moment you’d been forced to stumble after him.

But you can’t avoid it forever, and finally, you speak.

“Why did you take me?”

You would never dare to ask this question if the others were here, if Sesshoumaru hadn’t been tending to you, intimate and up close, for days. But the fever and the strangeness of the situation has made you feel clearheaded in a bold, perhaps too much so, way.

He simply stares at you for a few moments, and you think that he will choose to ignore you until his gaze shifts almost imperceptibly to the side.

“You were offered to me.”

It is your turn to offer a passive noise. The answer he gives is is nothing. At least nothing that makes sense to you, makes sense of your situation.

“Why didn’t you kill me, then?” Surely there was a reason, since he didn’t make you a hapless servant, either. “I was supposed to be a sacrifice.” Or you were meant to be. Instead he’s made you something altogether in-between. You weren’t worked to the bone or treated terribly, but you couldn’t leave. You weren’t killed, but you weren’t any more useful than his willing companions, either.

You don’t get the answer you wanted. Or any answer at all. Instead, he merely scoffs, and stands up to leave the cave. He pauses at the entrance, waiting until you turn towards him to speak.

“I will not take long.” He gestures towards the mat with one hand. “Go to sleep. And refrain from asking such stupid questions when you wake up.”

#yandere sesshoumaru #yandere sesshomaru #sesshomaru x reader #yandere inu yasha #afterwitch writes #you were right 'non in the inbox!

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i-used-to-wear-the-fedora · 2 years ago

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Stranger Things Demon AU, Mark of the Beast

Chrissy glanced around the woods nervously as she clutched the page she found in the cafeteria tightly. The flashlight in her hand was the only thing that illuminated her path as it approached midnight.

'This is a bad idea.' She told herself as she ventured further. 'Nothing's going to happen and I'll have come out here for nothing. And if it does work...'

Chrissy wasn't superstitious. Her family regularly attended church but she didn't really believe in the occult. But she was tired. Of everything. Her ex boyfriend who ignored her until she finally broke it off. Her mom who she could never be good enough for. Her dad who just stood back and let it happen...if the paper she picked up was right, it meant she could summon a demon and finally ask for it all to go away. It was a bad idea but she was desperate for some kind of change.

Approaching a clearing in the woods, the cheerleader sat her flashlight down and began to pull the supplies she brought out of her bag. Using a piece of chalk to draw a pentagram on the forest floor and setting a candle on each point. Striking a match she lit each one as she began to speak.

"Demon of old, I summon you tonight. I ask for your powers and promise myself, body and soul to forever serve you in the after life, come forth and reveal yourself." She called out and pulled away from the chalk symbol. Watching intently as the candles flames were blown out by a sudden harsh gust of wind. Her flashlight flickering for a moment before going completely out. "Hello?" She called out nervously. The pit of anxiety in her chest bubbled up. Something was very, very wrong here. Forgetting about her bag and flashlight, the girl turned to run when she saw it.

He looked like a man but not quite. His skin fleshy and burned. The creature's husk of a body moving towards her, Chrissy let out a scream at the sight of it. Barely jogging a few feet away before a hand grabbed her ankle and pulled her down. She frantically clawed at the ground to get away before being roughly pulled back by the creature. Her screams went unheard by the rest of Hawkins that night.

Eddie had been awake for almost a half hour now but had yet to move from his bed. Instead he was focused on three demon who laid opposite him. Steve was still asleep. The light from the window reflecting on his skin made the metalhead's heart beat faster as he watched him. The highschooler had fucked quite a few people before. He'd made out with people while they were doing it but this felt different. In a good way for once. Rolling over look at his calendar, Eddie frowned when he saw it was Thursday. The next blood moon was tomorrow night. His only chance to break off from the demon.

A hand wrapping around his side followed by a kiss to the neck snapped Eddie back to reality. Glancing behind to see Steve now awake with a lazy grin on his face.

"Morning." The demon watched as Eddie got out of bed, grabbing a pair of jeans hanging out off his nearby dresser and hopping into them. "You're up early. Usually takes slamming the alarm clock a couple of times."

"Just....gotta get ready for a test." Technically it wasn't a lie, he did have a test in human anatomy today. But he wasn't too worried about it considering it was the only class he had an A in. Wondering if he should mention the ceremony. If Steve had known about it, he would've mentioned it, right? He didn't say anything, instead watching Steve grab his discarded polo and pulling out over his head. Even now his hair looked immaculate. It had to be some weird demon magic. Going out to the living room, Eddie was surprised to see his uncle was still there. Sat on the couch and drinking a cup of coffee. "Wayne? I thought you worked today."

"Something happened in the woods by the plant, cops closed everything down to investigate." Wayne explained as Eddie reached into the cupboards to pull out a box of Honeycomb cereal.

"What happened?"

"Wouldn't say but it looked pretty serious. You and your...friend should be careful at school today."

"I can take care of myself Wayne." Steve came out of Eddie's room, grabbing a bowl from the sink when Eddie patted him on the shoulder. "Sides, I got big boy over here for protection. Ain't that right Stevie?"

"Er,yeah." Steve saw the way Eddie's uncle looked him over in slight disbelief.

"Mmmhmm. Just stay out of trouble."

"When have I ever gotten in trouble?"

"I'm sure you're all curious why you've been called here today." The principal stood in front of the the microphone as all of Hawkins Highschool was gathered into the gymnasium. The chief of police and two other officers stood behind the man as he continued. "Early this morning, we lost one of our fellow students."

This caused a stir as the students began to whisper among themselves. Dustin nervously glancing around at his friends. The last time they'd called an assembly like this was when Will had gone missing three years ago. They found him a month later just fine but this was different. Glancing back at Eddie and the demon he was stuck with who were sat in the furthest corner.

"Chrissy Cunningham...was a beloved member of the Hawkins cheer squad." The man paused to catch his breath for a moment. "The police are here to interview anyone who might have information related to the case. If you have any information, we're asking you come forward-"

"I can tell you who fucking did it!"

Everyone turned to see Jason Carver as he stood up. He was a disheveled mess as he stumbled up the bleachers and pointed at Eddie, venom dripping as he spoke.

"Mr. Carver, please-" One of the officers tried to approach the teen and and stop him but he was shoved away. The blonde pointing a finger at Eddie as he shouted.

"I know you did this to her Munson! You and your devil worshipping cult! I saw what you did you fucker!" He continued to shout as he was forcibly dragged out of the gym but his point had been made and now all eyes were on Eddie. Dustin knew Eddie wouldn't do that. He couldn't say the same thing for the demon practically glued to his side.

#stranger things #fanfiction #stranger things au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #eddie x steve #demon au #chrissy cunningham #I always feel bad writing Chrissy dying #listen i know it's canon #but she deserved better #don't summon demons kids #it won't end well #most of the time #dustin henderson

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beels-burger-babe · 3 years ago

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D&D Story Time

@bloopthebat you may be interested in this

So ya'll know how I play D&D? While I had a crazy fucking session tonight, and my roommate is unavailable to rant to, so you guys get to hear it.

I've talked about the Three Cleric Campaign that I'm a part of before. There are three of us, we all play clerics, in a world where gods mostly live amongst us and are our political system as well.

I play Riona, an aasimar order cleric who follows Islina, sun goddess and queen of the pantheon. She's our party's healer

Then there's Taman (Riona's perfect opposite). A human raised by elves, a light cleric who follows the Moon God, a god who has been missing for centuries and is believed to be behind the dark corruption that is slowly killing the world (we only found that out post start of the campaign). He's utilities.

And finally, Thassa. A princess teifling of the Mother of Monsters who is a tempest cleric that follows the sea god Cashoctik (who is neutral in most of the wars that have happened in the lore). She's combat/tank.

ANYWAY! We're in the Mother of Monster's (a demi god) domain on a mission from the Father of Gods to kill her and bring her soul to him to help release him from his prison so that he can save the world from the corruption.

Rather than just go in guns blazing, we know the Mother to be very protective of her children (literally any monster race) and generally quite civil. We go to her, we explain the situation, she's like "Right. You are not the first the Father has sent to do this, and you probably won't be the last. I will let you kill me. But only if you can beat my Champions in battle. Consider it a test of sorts." So for the past few sessions, we've been doing combat and role play in this colosseum against the champions of each of the six children of the Mother: Goblinoids, Yaun-ti, Beast-Men, Orcs, Hags, and finally Demons. (Our DM homebrews a lot of stuff in the best way, so the lore for these races has been changed).

Tonight was our Hag fight and OH FUCKING BOY

All of us were already worried because we've fought hags before. They fuck with your head, and we've all had some recent trauma.

Riona especially.

For context, Riona is currently on the run from her temple (for whom she is seen as the "Marked of Islina", was practically raised by the goddess herself, and is officially a Mother (similar to a nun) of the temple and is the "Head Mother" of the entire orphanage and children care sector). She's been thrown curve ball after curve ball, being told that her goddess committed multiple massacres, imprisoned people, and is overall not always the best person. But then also told that most of those things she did were either with good intention or just cause and was also shown a number of really incredible and compassionate things she's done. So in terms of faith, it's wobbly. Not to mention, she hasn't actually heard from Islina in MONTHS, found out the artifact that her goddess gifted her was a tool for the temple's Cardinals to spy and track her, and that she HAS BEEN LIED TO HER ENTIRE LIFE AND APPARENTLY HAS DIED AND BEEN REINCARNATED SEVERAL TIMES THROUGHOUT HISTORY!

OH YEAH! AND THE LAST TIME SHE SAW THESE HAGS? THEY HAD ONE OF HER PAST LIVES FUCKING TAXIDERMIED IN THEIR OFFICE!!!

*clears throat* So Riona is having a great time.

So we're fighting three hags, and Taman (as usual) nearly dies several times, Riona and Thassa barely have a scratch on them. We kill the first one pretty early in the fight. Riona had to fight the undead corpse of her past life (yay necromancy) due to one of the hags, which was traumatic in its own right since looking in its eyes gave her flashbacks to its memories of its life and its death (which was in the very colosseum we were fighting in). Killed the hag that caused that.

But then there's the last hag. She casts Anti-Gravity, and everything goes to shit.

I won't go into fine details, but basically, since Riona can fly, she wasn't really affected by the spell, so with Taman and Thassa clinging to her leg, she's shooting arrow after arrow at this hag (I got like three nat 20s) and the hag summons this beast thing above us made of wood and bones from the other hags and the remains of Past Life!Riona. Monster thingy grabs Taman and Thassa. Thassa kills the monster thing. Riona grabs the two of them and then kills the hag.

But then Anti-Gravity drops as a result.

Ri (Riona) has everyone pretty sturdily in her arms, so it should be okay. Right?

Wrong.

The branches and sharps pieces of bone and rubble from the monster that had been above us start falling and we're still 90ft in the air held up only by Riona.

Ri fails a dex check to make us all dodge, and I ask the DM if Ri can move her wings so that she takes the brunt of the damage.

DM says if she takes more than 20 damage, she drops Taman and Thassa, and we continue with our house rule of if Riona takes more than 10 damage in one hit to her wings, they're broken until someone heals them.

Riona takes 18 damage.

We're falling. Riona is screaming in pain. Thassa trying to adjust Taman so he won't take any damage if we do fall to our deaths, and Taman is casting guidance on Thassa.

With a 25DC Dex save, with shattered wings, Riona forces herself to push through the pain and catch enough wind under them to slow us down.

Taman casts Cure Wounds on Riona. (The DM describes his magic to be silver with these ghost-like hands that grab, mend, or tear at things depending on the spell. In this case, mid-flight, they were re-setting and mending Riona's wings. The feeling is excruciating and feels wrong as Taman's temple is opposite/enemies with Riona's).

Riona slowly brings them all to the ground.

Just in time to see her Past Life's skull plummet to the ground and with its empty eyes staring into hers, split and shatter.

Riona turned and hid her face in Thassa's shoulder, Thassa pulled Taman into a group hug, and we all stood there, ignoring the audience booing at their champion's defeat, clinging onto each other as we tried to process what we had just gone through.

Deeply traumatized, we're lead to our waiting room to heal and plan before our last fight against the Demon King, the original Demon.

Riona is shell-shocked and finally breaks from just everything she's been put through with her temple and her goddess and this. She's shaking, she's crying silent tears and can't fully bring herself to talk. Taman lays down near where she's sitting, pats her leg and sleepily tries to comfort her. Thassa, after dealing with some of her own shit that went down, grabbed a bowl, sat behind Riona, and gently hummed to her as she wiped down Ri's wings and helped ground her.

This was the closest, most family-like moment our party has ever had.

By my own choice for role play, Riona will not be able to fly for the rest of the day, and from here on out will have to do a Wis save before flying to see if she can actually push herself to do it again.

She's traumatized as fuck and I have no idea what's gonna happen now.

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mcmusing · 3 years ago

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Another day. Another reason the X-Men films are incoherent trash.

Outside of teenie boppers Rogue, Kitty, and Jubilee, why are so many of the lady mutants terrible?

Outside of teenie boppers Rogue, Kitty, and Jubilee, why are so many of the lady mutants terrible and/or stupidly written?

Emma Frost is such a phenomenal telepath but she is easily swayed by darkness. She also lets herself get reduced to a side wench for two different genocidal maniacs, Shaw and Erik.

Angel Salvador was the first one recruited by Charles and Erik. Then, she was the first to betray them to Shaw after witnessing him commit mass murder. Basically, she mimics Emma in almost every way.

Kayla Silverfox may have been blackmailed into setting up and betraying Logan but that's completely stupid. She has the power of mental persuasion. How can any military grunt force her to do anything? Since she genuinely fell in love with Logan, why didn't she just tell him the full story so he could help? And why does she have persuasion powers instead of her source material healing/longevity like Logan?! It was such a slap in the face when she faked her death only to die for real in the end.

Freakin Raven.... So, in the original timeline we're supposed to believe she had one fight with her would-be boyfriend and picked a fight with her loving adoptive brother, which caused her to spend the next several decades naked and murdering alongside a sicko like Magneto?!

And on the First Class timeline, she grew up with Charles as her only family then betrays him at the first sign of conflict all because he didn't sufficiently stroke her ego? She never once checked on him, even in secret, but went around avenging Shaw's terrorist cronies?! Her lust for stupid, public vengeance almost caused the end for all mutants yet that's Charles' fault somehow? Charles who never forced her to stay, let her be for ten years, and only asked her to come home so they could find a solution together. She goes on to be petty and cruel towards him every time they meet.

Now, lets talk about the ones not portrayed by competent actresses.

In XMA, they finally made Storm a piece of crap wench by her joining Apocalypse. And don't give me mind control BS. She stopped working for him when she saw Mystique didn't think he was so cool. In the stupid phoenix movie, the ungrateful street urchin has the nerve to mouth off to Charles.

Oh frick frack, Jean 'Wet Rag' Grey. Why is it impossible to not only find a passable actress for this twat but why can no one write her remotely likeable? In both timelines, Charles was forced to subdue her powers and/or suppress some of her traumatic memories because she was such an unstable demon child. He gave her a home life most kids would cut an arm off for. But as soon as she gets a taste of significant power, she goes on a fiery rampage and turns against everyone. However, NEVER is she held accountable or painted as anything other than an innocent lost doe in the woods. Who is blamed yet again Charles.

Speaking of the magnificent Professor, no matter how much anger, pain, mental torment, or suffering he went through, he NEVER attacked or tried to hurt anyone. Even in his deepest agony, he pushed it aside to defend others. He would rather withdraw and let himself die inside than do harm, even to those deserving of it.

It's crystal clear what the takeaway from these films is. Female mutants (Rogue, Kitty, JuJu excluded) are too weak and enslaved to their emotions. Try to be honest with them about the dangers in the world, they betray you. Try to give them a chance to do significant good, they spit on you and accuse you of being the bad guy. Disagree with them in the most reasonable way, you're dead to them. Feed their narcissism, you have a devoted slave for life.Give them immense power, the clitoris corrupts absolutely.

It's quite obvious that Charles is the most powerful telepath, not only because of his intelligence and self-sacrificing nature, but because when it comes to the X gene, the Y chromosome wins. He can control himself, has independence, and a strong sense of responsibility the way real- non-genocidal- men do.

Want to scream and cry sexism? Intentional or not, the films spell all of this out.

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harryspet · 4 years ago

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dimensions | peter parker

[Warnings] peter parker x reader, dark peter x reader, historical au, royal au, prince Peter, mentions of noncon sex, physical abuse, spanking, alternate dimensions, fluff, hella angst, alternate peter is basically ramsay bolton

A/N: This is an angsty idea from an anon “Angst thought: Peter's got a girlfriend he super likes but she gets switched with an alternate dimension's version of her who alternate him was the worst to (like one of your dark Peter fics bad) and she's terrified of Peter now”. I decided to make this like a historical au but it can basically take place at anytime in history.

THIS CONTAINS TRIGGERING MATERIAL AND ADULT CONTENT

main masterlist

word count: 2.7k

Wine dripped from his lips as Peter stared at you like a hungry wolf. What a beautiful prey you were. He was so lucky that he had decided not to kill you like the rest of your family.

The kingdom you came from was made of sunlight. Sun dripped from the sun and kissed the skin of your people. You were a peaceful people. You had never seen war until you came to know Lord Parker.

In Lord Parker’s part of the world, there was no sun at all. His fortress sat on a hill between a dark forest and a storm-ridden sea. His followers were loyal but this was because the family ruled with fear. They conquered and pillaged for power and your kingdom was just another line on his roster.

You were nothing to him. Nothing except a toy.

You scrambled backward, your back hitting the headboard of the bed you shared with him. Peter’s eyes trailed over the bare skin of your legs and up to the white nightgown you wore. He loved you in white, the contrast to your skin, and the innocence it represented.

No matter how he tried to beat it out of you, that innocence was still there.

Peter pulled the sheets all the way back and your body began to tremble, “My sweeting,” His words were kind but his intentions were anything but. He had his claws around your heart and you felt any wrong move would lead to him ripping it from your chest, “I recall informing you that you should refrain from speaking to my servants.”

Nothing. There were no words on your lips.

Had Peter already diminished your fire? He thought he had mastered the art of pushing you all the way to the edge but not allowing you to fall over.

The room was filled with grays and black, the only light in the room came from a few candles in the corner. You could hear the waves beating against the cliffs from outside the window. You let the cold hit your skin, allowing you to feel something other than sadness.

Peter’s hands touched the mattress as his body leaned in closer, “You want to run from me, do you not?” You were frozen now. He cocked his head to the side, an evil grin decorating his handsome face, “That is why you asked your guard to help you escape. You thought he might take pity on you? Do you think the honey between your legs is that sweet? That any man would risk their lives just to taste it?”

Breathe, you had to remind yourself. Why had you done that? You should’ve known not to trust anyone. Anyone including those with sweet, forgiving eyes.

Peter sighed, taking a seat on the edge of the large mattress. You recalled the memories of the last few nights. On your wedding night, he had forced himself inside of you with a force you couldn’t bear. You still ached between your legs.

“I do try to be good to you. I try to be a good husband but … it seems the Gods have cursed me with anger …and your behavior lights that flame inside of me. Is it so much to ask that you be honest with me? To tell me what I hear is not true?”

Nothing. Again, no words escaped your trembling lip. Peter was starting to grow annoyed. He liked it better when you were screaming.

“Answer me!” He screamed, causing you to hit your head against the wood as you flinched back, “You dare run behind my back!” Peter pounced, unable to resist the sweet touch of your trembling flesh. You resisted, but that only made the member in his trousers grow even more excited.

Peter dragged you by the curls in your hair, forcing you to scramble forward until you were positioned across his lap.

“My lord, please! Please, don’t!”

Peter smiled wide as he held you down, his elbow pressing into your back. “There she is! I knew my sweet princess was a fighter,” He pulled up the skirt of your dress, revealing your bare bottom. He could still see the evidence he left behind hours ago dripping down your thighs, “Continue to scream for me, my sweeting. I do enjoy your voice.”

You cried out, trying to wiggle from his grasp, as he landed several hard spanks to your bottom. You could feel it turning colors beneath his touch, the burning pain flowed through your body, “Please, please, I won’t do it again!” You begged, “I’ll be good!”

He didn’t stop until your bottom was raw and his own hand was bleeding. Tears streamed down your tired face, a complete look of defeat crossed your features, and ultimately satisfied Peter.

“What is your name?”

You didn’t even remember anymore, “Nothing. N-No one. I am nothing but yours, My Lord.”

He dragged you from the bed though every step you took was like feeling fire against your skin.

“No ones coming to save you!” Peter shouted as he dragged you out of the room, past your guards, and to the outside balcony that overlooked the entire fortress. Everyone was used to causing the scene with his cruelty so no one even batted an eyelash as you were pulled around like a ragdoll.

He pressed you against the wooden railing, making you look out into the snow-covered court. The snow that was now soaked in blood. He was in pieces but you recognized him. It was the young guard you had talked to you. Stupidly, you asked him when the guards normally changed shifts in the compound.

His legs were separated as well as each of his arms and then …. his head. His eyes were still open. “We cut off the head last,” As you closed your eyes, he pulled at your hair tightly, “He learned what happens when you try to steal my treasure. Treasure I bravely sought and retrieved on my own.”

It was all your fault.

He was gone before Peter even stepped into that room.

Your body was only protecting itself by shutting down and causing you to faint. Peter caught you as you fell into his arms.

You awoke on a soft cloud. Everything smelt of sweet vanilla, even your hair. You touched your hair and found it longer and much softer than usual. Your eyes could barely adjust to the blinding light in the room. When were thing’s ever this bright on Lord Parker’s land?

Had he finally set the place ablaze with you trapped inside? The thought of it was delightful. You even considered closing your eyes again but, the room you were in, gave off an entirely different feeling than the fortress.

You sat up in the bed and your mouth gaped as you took a look around. You stumbled as you stood up on the bed. The room was ginormous, even bigger than the over-sized bed. It reminded you of the great hall in the manor you grew up in … except it was a bedroom made of gold.

You looked down at your body. This was not the white gown you were last wearing. There were no stains of blood or tears down the chest. There was also no burning on your skin, on your bottom or around your neck.

You paused as the tall gold doors opened to the room. You stared as he entered, clad in a royal suit of blue, and wearing a smile. A smile? You had never seen him with a real smile, “Did you use to jump on the bed when you were younger?” He asked a tone you weren’t quite used to. It sounded pleasant, like there was happiness on his lips, “That was my favorite too.”

Had he slipped hallucinogens into your drink? Or was this just a nightmare of your own creation?

As he moved closer to the bed, you panicked, moving down to your knees, “M-My Lord,” You addressed him, your head tilted down.

Peter paused, taking in your appearance, and his smile turned to concern, “Your Lord?” Peter asked softly, moving towards you. He reached for your hand and, although you didn’t pull away, he felt you shaking, “Y/N, what’s going on?”

You lifted your head, facing the demon, “W-Who is Y/N?” Peter searched your face for some symbol of amusement. He thought you might be pulling a prank on him but it was now clear that something was very wrong, “Where did you take me?”

Peter pulled away his hand, realizing he was only causing more unease, “I didn’t take you anywhere. This is my home. Our home. Should I call in the physician ...”

“We don’t live here …” You looked around the large room again.

“Y/N, do you promise me that this is not some sort of game?”

You shook your head quickly, “No games, My Lord.”

“My name is Peter. I am not your Lord …” Peter’s voice trailed off, his mind racing with concerned thoughts and confusion. Peter beckoned you with his hand, “Why don’t you come with me, Y/N? We will have a talk with May.”

A trick. This had to be some elaborate trick then.

“I only talk to you, My Lord,” You assured him, “I won’t speak to anyone else, I promise.”

His eyes seemed to sadden. Sad? You’d only seen anger from him before, “Y/N, you can talk to other people. I am your husband but I do not control you. You have friends. You have a family.”

A sick joke then. You stared at him dumbfounded, before shaking your head, “You killed them. They were not worthy. You spared me despite my unworthiness.”

“I-I never-” Peter stopped himself, realizing that it was becoming useless to argue at the moment. You seemed to flinch at the slightest raise in his voice, “Walk with me, please?”

You were hesitant but you crawled from the bed, your bare feet touching the cool, marble floor. The fortress was grays and black. The fortress was soot and wood. This was a palace and the man before you were dressed like a prince.

Peter noticed the distance you kept from it. Yesterday, you were madly in love with him. You held each other through every royal meeting and you spent the night wrapped in each other’s arms. He remembered how nervous he was when Tony announced the plans for his marriage but, the moment he saw you, he realized his luck. He was even luckier that you felt the same.

You glanced around the long hallways with tall white walls and ginormous windows that gave a view of the sun over a calm sea.

“What city is this?”

As the name of the city left his lips, your heart stopped. It was the same city you were kidnapped and taken to but you saw no sign of the darkness that you remembered. Had the darkness all been a bad dream?

The woman named May attempted to explain everything to you. She noticed your uneasiness around Peter and kindly asked to have a moment alone with you. You were frightened to speak out of turn, for fear of Peter punishing you, but the woman encouraged you to talk to her.

She knew all about the kingdom you hailed from, about your family and your peaceful people. They were all alive, Peter’s forces never led an attack against them. In fact, your father and King Tony arranged the marriage between you two. Peter was a Prince. The prince of a kingdom that did not wage war against innocents.

She checked your vitals, not noticing anything that was physically wrong with you. You didn’t even have the scars anymore.

Despite all of this, the thing that made everything sink in was seeing your family. Both your mother and older brother had not returned back to your kingdom, and you were able to embrace them after believing you had lost them forever.

Peter wasn’t sure what to think of everything. So much had changed that he wasn’t sure if he was looking at the same girl anymore. He didn’t want to be a villain to his own wife. He regretted that the bond that they now shared was indestructible. To divorce was a sin and they’d both be shamed by their countries.

“I can find somewhere else to sleep tonight …” You looked up to Peter, seeing how he was trying to hide his sadness. Your chambermaids had prepared you for bed, bathed you, and put you into fresh nightclothes made of the softest silks.

“It is your room,” You told him quickly, “I should not deprive you of the comfort … the comfort of sleeping next to your own wife.”

“I can tell you do not want me to, my love,” His words made your heart pang. Love. Did Peter love you? At least, did he love the old you? “I will allow you to have all the time that you need. I do not wish to be the source of your nightmares.”

Peter had a feeling that he wouldn’t be able to change that fear she felt.

“Please stay,” You told him as he made a move to leave, “I do not want to be alone.”

You had spent the entire day with your family, and now you just didn’t want to fall asleep in the silence.

Peter thought for a moment, deciding his plan of action. You couldn’t help that your breath caught in your throat as he approached where you laid on the bed. He didn’t reach to touch you, only to grab a pillow.

He laid it on the ground beside the massive bed and proceeded to make himself comfortable on the hard floor. You rolled over in the bed, looking over the edge at him, “The floor is no place for a prince, your grace.”

Peter instantly shook his head, “I do not know what you mean, my love. It feels great down here,” You could tell her was lying and a small grin pulled at your lips. He was willing to sleep on the floor just so you could be comfortable?

“Peter?”

Peter couldn’t help how his heart fluttered when you simply called him by his first name. He liked knowing before that you liked him as a person, not as an authority figure.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“What kind of things did I use to like?”

Peter didn’t expect the question, but as the memories rushed, he couldn’t help but smile, “You loved your family. You always talked about them, about your people. You wanted everyone to know that you were a princess of two, great kingdoms, not just my own. You made sure they were never forgotten.”

You continued to listen as you pictured it. You hadn’t realized they were memories of your own.

“You liked to garden. It reminds you of your time with your grandmother. You love the life you can create, the beauty you can make.”

A tear slipped down your face as you remembered the older woman.

“You liked it when we went out on the boat and rode in the bay. You liked the sound of the ocean and the sun on the skin. You hated that we kept the fish we caught. You hated how they had to die and you insisted that we give them to beggars on the street.”

You realized that this wasn’t some past you that Peter was talking about. The girl he was talking about was still you. She just had a better chance at life.

“You loved looking at the stars. You smiled for days when I showed you the telescope my father purchased from that French merchant, I swear it.”

“Peter, I-I am sorry,” Peter noticed you were crying and shot up from his spot, reaching to hold your hand, “You are nothing like him. You are nothing like him.”

“Do not cry, please,” Peter begged, rubbing soothing circles on your skin, “There is nothing to apologize for. Whatever this is, we will get through it.”

As his thumb brushed the tear from your cheek, you saw him clearly. You could look into those brown eyes and know he’d never hurt you.

Hope you enjoyed! (Also sorry, please don’t ask for a second part)

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writing-gifts · 4 years ago

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here’s the 6th part of the incubus!doppio AU!

im gonna start posting this on ao3 too (with some editing in the earlier chapters so you can check that out if you wanna)

list of parts

@wasabi-mommy @mistabrainr0t @the-average-mastermind

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“OW! What the hell--why’d you bite me so hard for!?”

You try to move your leg but Mutton blocks your way. Letting out a sigh, you stand in place and look down at the cat.

“What? What is the problem?”

He moves behind you and presses his head against the back of your calf hard enough to affect your balance. When you move your leg forward to stop yourself from falling, Mutton walks towards the door.

“Do you want me to let you out? But you just got here.”

The cat looks at you for a moment before placing his front paws on the door and stretching upward towards the knob.

Shaking your head, you walk over to the door. “I’m gonna get that cat door for you one day, I swear.”

Once it’s open, Mutton quickly circles your legs and pushes his head against them like before.

“Okay, okay I’m going!”

You walk out and the feline takes a few steps towards the forest ahead before turning to look back. His multicolored eyes stay locked on yours and you purse your lips when you realize what he wants.

“I guess I'm following you….”

After locking and closing the door, you walk after the cat as he continues into the forest. You wonder what exactly he’s so desperate to show you. Was this even normal behavior for cats? You weren't sure but you did know that Mutton was a little more on the intelligent side. Sometimes you even felt like he could even understand you.

So you go along with it, following a distance behind through what seems like endless trees and brush and fanning random insects out of your face. Fortunately, the weather was cool enough that you weren't sweating too.

However, the longer you walk, the more you fear that you might be lost. Trying to find your way back on your own would definitely make it worse though.

Just when you think you need to take a break, a body of water appears in the distance through the opening of the trees. When you and Mutton finally exit the packed foliage, you see that you’ve been led to a lake sitting in a giant clearing in the forest.

You stare a bit amazed at the size and notice a cabin near it a distance away. Mutton doesn't stop long to let you marvel at the scene though and continues towards the lake. You catch up to him and the both of you walk alongside the water.

“So do you know the person in the cabin?” You assume that’s where you're headed.

You didn’t expect a response, but Mutton merps to acknowledge you. You hum and your gaze quickly finds itself back on the lake. It was vast, going on so far you could barely see where it ended. The sky and trees reflect on its surface clearly and the water’s so still you almost feel like you can jump into the clouds if you want to.

Once the two of you are closer, you see that the brick and wood cabin was partially sitting on the grassy land behind it and partially on the water. You had also underestimated the size. Perhaps more than one person lived here?

Mutton leads you around the side of the house and stops to sit next to the front door. He looks up at you expectedly so you reach out to knock.

Several seconds pass before you hear the door being unlocked and when it opens, a handsome man with a neat, dark bob is revealed.

Unsure of what to do, you give a quick greeting and go quiet afterward. You didn't plan what to say when the door was answered, you just knew Mutton wanted you to knock.

Said cat walks into view, rubbing against the man’s leg as he walks into the house.

At that moment, realization seems to cross the man's face and he smiles at you.

“You must be the neighbor,” he says.

“Neighbor?”

“The person who lives in the house outside the forest. I saw someone moved in but never came around to introduce myself.”

"Oh, I had no idea anyone lived out here."

"That’s pretty much the reason why I’m out here.” The man moves to make room so you can walk inside. “Would you like to come in?"

You're a little hesitant since you just met but Mutton had no issue with it apparently. And the cat had actively been prepared to attack Diavolo for you on multiple occasions.

The moment you pass the threshold, you’re instantly awed. When you thought of cabins, simple and small came to mind. This one was neatly organized but it didn't give the homely vibe you’d expect.

The monochromatic room was spacious and decorated with nice looking furniture and curtains. The living area consisted of a fireplace surrounded by comfortable looking couches, and the stone wall above it held shelves that were crammed full of old looking books, various expensive looking decor and bottles. And to the right, closer to the back of the room sat a sizable dining set.

However what mostly grabs your eye is the fish tanks that were embedded in the walls throughout the room. At first you wonder why he had so many, but when you look closer you realize that they were not, in fact, separate tanks but a giant aquarium partially hidden within the walls.

Was the whole house like this? What type of cabin was this?

While you wonder where all the fish are, something twinkles in the corner of your eye. You turn to see what it is, but there’s nothing there.

So I'm imagining things now...

“--drink?”

You turn your attention to the man. "Sorry what was that?"

“I asked if you wanted anything to drink?”

You cross your arms and shake your head. “No I’m good…so do you know why Mutton led me here?”

The cat currently sits on the top of the back of one of the white couches.

“I actually needed to discuss something important with you, but I should introduce myself first. I'm Bruno Bucciarati--you can refer to me as either--and I'm a witch.”

You’re immediately skeptical. It wasn't unheard of, obviously, but you couldn't just believe whatever anyone told you. Bruno doesn’t look bothered by your dubiousness though.

“You're smart enough to not trust blindly. That’s good.” The man puts a finger to his chin. “You have a leaf on your shoulder.”

Before you can reach up to brush it off the man plucks it off you. Then just as quickly as he picked it off, the small green leaf begins to glow and transforms into a full flower.

You stare shocked trying to find any way to explain what you just saw. It was no trick of the eye either as the leaf’s form changed right before you into a completely different thing.

The man--no witch holds out the white rose and you gently take it.

“I--wow I just keep running into supernatural beings or something.”

"This forest does seem to attract them," he says.

Interesting…

You roll the flower stem between your fingers. “I’m ____ by the way.Uh, I don't know if you call him Mutton too--" You tilt your head in the direction of the feline. “--but is he your familiar or something?”

“No, he’s just a cat that likes to wander the forest. However, my familiar's over there though if you’re interested."

You get closer to the tank the witch pointed out to observe and even though you weren't exactly showing it, you were actually really excited and interested by the fact that you just met a witch.

At first you don't see anything in the huge tank other than greenery and a rocky cave ornament in the corner. But then something pops its head out of the opening. An eel that also managed to match the color scheme of the room. It was mostly white and covered in black patterns with yellow sprinkled in. It comes out of its hiding spot and swims back and forth as if it were stretching out it’s long body. Then it turns to you when it realizes that you're intently watching through the glass.

Your smile at it’s somewhat funny face and tilt your head a bit. The eel responds by tilting its own head, as if curious by your action.

"Holy crap. This is actually pretty cool! Do they talk?" you ask.

“Not really.” Bruno's smile falters. “But surprisingly Mutton does.”

“Huh?” You snicker a bit thinking the witch is joking but see that there’s no sign that he is on his face.

You look over at the cat and he stares back unblinking before glancing at Bruno.

"....I thought we weren't going to tell them."

Your heart almost jumps into your throat. “W-What?”

Bruno hums. “I thought about it and decided there's no point keeping it secret any longer. The incubus already knows. So it would only be a matter of time before he said something."

You're still reeling from Mutton talking that you almost missed what Bruno said.

“Hold on...Wait. Incubus? Are you talking about Doppio?” you ask the witch.

“Yes.”

You squint confused. “He knew and he didn't say anything? How long ago did he find out?"

"About a week," Mutton says.

"It might have benefited him in some way but I'm not sure why he didn't say anything," Bruno adds.

You exhale, somehow already on the verge of irritation with...everyone. Doppio was usually open with you, but apparently he thought this was a good thing not to mention.

You stare at Mutton who looks at you like he usually did, as if this weren’t an issue. But that was far from the case for you. It wasn't explicitly said but you were sure he told Bruno things about you, and it left you disturbed.

“...Well is there anything else I should know about Mutton?”

"Well his name's not actually Mutton," Bruno says.

"It's Leone Abbacchio, but you can call me Abbacchio."

You grimace from the human sounding voice coming from the cat you had been cuddling practically since...since you moved here!

“Okay Abbacchio, I don't really want you snooping around my house anymore--

“That can be arranged,” Bruno interrupts. “Once we ‘exorcise’ that demon constantly visiting you.”

Your already furrowed brow deepens. Doppio wasn't possessing anything though. You weren't even sure he was capable of that.

“No, I don't want that!”

"Listen, it might seem like Doppio is harmless, but things can become dangerous if he grows too serious of an attachment to you. And if it makes you feel better, we won’t need to hurt him if he leaves quietly."

You weren't exactly sure what the witch meant by "dangerous" but his serious tone managed to spark some anxiety within you.

"I mean it would be natural for Doppio to get upset if I suddenly wanted him gone."

"He's not just talking about being upset." Abbacchio says, annoyance in his tone. "Doppio could literally keep you against your will if he wanted and there would be no way for Bruno to reverse it."

"All demons are naturally envious creatures and the way things are going between you two, it’s only a matter of time. And this doesn't even take into account the other demon." Bruno says.

Diavolo aside, you couldn't bring yourself to see Doppio in that light.

"But--"

The front door slams open and the temperature in the room seems to drop.

Doppio stomps in, his face flushed. Once he sees you he seems to relax slightly but his expression is still irate.

“I finally found you!” he exclaims.

Bruno raises a brow and turns to Abbacchio.

The cat's ears fold back in frustration. "I was sure I lost him."

The incubus walks up to you, stopping too close and grabbing your shoulders harshly. “Are you okay?”

“Doppio you're gripping me too tightly.” You push off his hands and wrap your arms around yourself to shield your body from the sudden chill that seemed to appear. “I’m fine….But they're talking about you being able to keep me? What does that exactly mean?”

You wanted to hear an explanation from the incubus himself. You trusted him not to lie to your face if you asked him straight on.

However, Doppio reacts strangely, as if he's afraid. He makes some space between the two of you and struggles to look at you. You try to catch his gaze again but he refuses to keep eye contact.

"It's…" He strains his fingers. "Well, you see, incubi and succubi can form a….c-connection with a weaker being if they’re close enough. Then they could technically stay together forever."

Abbacchio grunts, "Way to sugar coat it--"

“I wouldn’t do that to you though ____! I didn't even consider it! U-Unless you wanted to it would never happen and I know that you like your space…”

The incubus is the most stressed you've seen him.

Even though you were still upset you didn't like seeing him like this, so in an attempt to ease him, you try to smile. Unfortunately, it comes off pretty strained.

You take a moment to mull over what he said though and come to a conclusion pretty quickly. "Even though that was kind of vague...I think I understand. And honestly, I can't see you forcing me into that."

You'd never seen a cat roll their eyes until now.

"Typical human. They're a lost cause Bruno. Let's leave them to do what they want," Abbacchio says before stretching and laying down.

The witch looks disapprovingly at the cat. "You know I can't do that. Perhaps they actually were charmed. I could--"

"Sir," you say to get his attention. "I appreciate your concern, but I trust Doppio and I'd prefer if you didn't get in between the two of us."

Having to tell your almost neighbor you just met to buzz off even in a polite way wasn't what you were expecting to do today.

Bruno doesn’t look upset though. He's quiet, studying you with an unreadable expression but then he nods.

"I'm having Leone check up on you. If anything seems off I'm getting involved."

Your brows furrow slightly. Didn't you just explicitly say you didn't want Abbacchio snooping around your home anymore?

You want to argue more but the witch didn't leave room in his statement to negotiate. And even though you hate to admit it, keeping the supernatural out of your home wasn't exactly your strong suit. It pissed you off but you couldnt do anything about it. So you give a curt nod and immediately walk to the exit with Doppio following closely behind.

Once outside, you follow the incubus through the forest. There's a long, awkward stretch of silence between you two though.

Doppio tries to sneakily glance at you, which you of course you notice but you choose to ignore it. However, after the 50th one he finally decides to say something.

"____?"

You sigh, "What?"

He slows to a stop to turn and look at you properly but, again, he has trouble keeping eye contact.

"Are you mad?"

Maybe at first but now it had changed to more of a disappointed feeling.

"Not necessarily but you knew about Mutt--Abbacchio and didn't say anything to me. So I'm not exactly happy right now."

"I didn't but--"

You shake your head. "No Doppio. I'm too tired right now to understand whatever weird logic you formed in your head."

His mouth closes and the hurt on his face instantly makes you regret your choice of words. Maybe you shouldn't have said it like that but you really didn't feel like listening to excuses right now.

You look away from Doppio. "Let's just go, please."

#incubus!doppio #vinegar doppio x reader #doppio x reader #reader insert #jjba x reader #if you're wondering what type of eel it is its a snowflake eel #anyways yEP #if you wanna be added to the tag list you can ask in the replies or message me whichever you want #i still need a title for ao3

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dialovers-translations · 4 years ago

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DIABOLIK LOVERS Do-S Kyuuketsu VERSUS Ⅳ Vol.6 Laito VS Yuma [TRACK 5]

Original title: ゲームの方向

Source: DIABOLIK LOVERS Do-S Kyuuketsu VERSUS Ⅳ Vol.6 Laito VS Yuma [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Hirakawa Daisuke & Tomohisa Suzuki

Translator’s note: You know shit is about to get serious when Laito’s voice drops. I honestly like how even Yuma was SHOOK by it. I don’t blame him though, I am terrified of Laito’s serious side as well. One moment the guy is smiling and making dirty remarks, then the next he is ready to end your entire family line. :’’)

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5

→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 5: The Game’s Direction

Yuma: ...Eve, he says!? I don’t care who this Kino guy is, but you’re watchin’ from somewhere through these cameras, aren’t ya!? How do ya know she’s Eve!? Who the fuck are ya!?

*BZT*

Yuma: ...!? Another message appeared...!

Laito: Seems like he won’t ignore us this time, but actually give an answer.

Yuma: Yeah. ...’I am Kino. Karlheinz’s...illegitimate child...!?’ One of...Laito’s siblings?

Laito: ...!?

Yuma: Karlheinz’s...illegitimate child? What is this about!?

He turns towards Laito.

Laito: My brother...That guy’s...child. Fufu...Fufufufu...Ahaha...Ahahahaha!!

Yuma: O...Oi...

Laito: Ahahaha...It all makes sense now~ He planned this whole farce because he’s after that man’s powers which currently belong to me. Fufu~

You frown.

Laito: Rest assured. I haven’t gone crazy. After all, I’ve been broken all along. I thought Kino was simply a guy who gets a kick out of messing with others, but seems like I was wrong. His objective is you - Eve - in other words, he wishes to become the next Demon King. I can only assume he locked me up in here to steal Karlheinz’ powers.

Yuma: Haah!? ...Then why am I here as well!?

Laito: He obviously tried to create tension between us. With those assignments, you see. Just think about it, our personalities clearly clash, no? In reality, we’ve become hostile towards one another and if she had not stopped us, we were one step away from lunging at each other. Best case scenario, you would have left me fatally wounded, which would give Kino an easy opportunity to steal these powers.

Yuma: ...!? The fuck does that mean? So I’ve been used? From the very beginning till the very end?

Laito: Nfu~ ...Honestly, that guy’s a freak on a whole different level from me. On top of that, in the end, it always boils down to that Karlheinz...I’m sick and tired of hearing that man’s name...I’m fed up with it.

Yuma: O-Oi...

Laito: It was such a fun class as well, but I’ve lost all interest in the blink of an eye. ...This Kino, you know, I don’t know if he’s my older or younger brother, but I think it’s about time he starts standing on his own legs (1), so to speak. That guy is DEAD after all...!

*BZT*

*BOOM*

Laito: ...!? T-The device...exploded!?

*BZT BZT BZT*

Laito: This sound...Watch out!!

Laito pushes you out of the way.

*Rustle*

*SHATTER*

Laito: Are you okay? ...I’m glad. However, seems like we’re not out of the woods just yet.

*BZT BZT BZT*

Yuma: ...Fuck!? What’s goin’ on!?

Laito: We failed the task, so I guess this is our penalty? Alternatively, he figured that if he cannot get his hands on that blood, he might as well just massacre us all?

Yuma: This isn’t a joke! We’re still Vampires at least...but what about her!?

*SHATTER*

Yuma: Oi! Come into my arms! If ya were to take one of those blows with yer body, you’d be in serious shit!

You worry about Yuma.

Yuma: I’m fine! I’ve got a broad physique. I can be yer shield! ーー Ugh!

He tugs you his way.

*Rustle*

Yuma: Fuck...What do we do? If only Ruki were here...

Laito: What’s the point in mentioning someone who isn’t even around?

Yuma: Then help me think here! I can’t even use my powers properly ‘cause of the magic barrier!

Laito: I know~ We’ve been completely driven into a corner. However...You really think things will go your way?

Yuma: ...!

Laito: You want this supreme power which has been forced upon me? In that case, I’ll give it to you. As much as you’d like. You planned out this whole thing...Looking back at it now, there were several hints to your true intentions all along. Of just how badly you want these powers. It’s hilarious. Even though...I never asked for these powers in the first place...!

Laito charges up his powers and fires an attack.

Laito: Arghーー!

*CRASH*

Yuma: ...Ugh!! ...! Those are...That man’s powers? Ya...I thought ya couldn’t use them!?

Laito: Haah, haah...I didn’t think I could either!

Yuma: ...!! It didn’t work at all! So even these powers are useless!?

Laito: No...We can get out...through there...

Yuma: The glass is melting...!

Laito: Even if my powers didn’t work...He can’t stop the fire I set...I’ll burn this whole building to the ground! ...You take care of her!

Yuma: Understood! ...Oi, I’ll carry ya, ‘kay?

Yuma picks you up.

Yuma: Listen carefully. Hold on tight, remember?

The classroom slowly starts collapsing.

Laito: Are you two ready!?

Yuma: Yeah!

Laito: I live in the moment...Always prepared to risk my life...However, I’d rather not die because of that guy. ...I’m tired of this game. I’ll end it here...! Ugh!!

Laito fires another attack.

*BOOM*

*CRASH*

...

You are watching the burning building from the outside.

Yuma: Fuck...It’s burning...This scenery brings back bad memories.

*Rustle*

Yuma: Ah...Woah there. Can ya stand by yerself?

You nod.

Yuma: I see. ...Ya don’t have any wounds or burns, right?

You confirm his statement.

Yuma: Haah...Good.

Laito: ...

Yuma: ...Oi!

Laito: Hm? ...What?

Yuma: Ya...said ya don’t have anything ya refuse to give up, but ya do.

Laito: Hm? ...I don’t.

Yuma: Stop playin’ dumb. Rather than yer whimsical side, when ya were actually bein’ serious earlier, ya gave a much better answer.

Laito: What are you talking about~? I don’t remember~

Yuma: Che...You’re back to yer usual self, huh? That nasty smile of yers grinds my gears.

Laito: That’s so mean! Don’t make fun of someone’s face! ...Aaah~ I tired myself out, but seems like we won this game~

Yuma: Can ya really call this a victory?

Laito: We managed to clear all the tasks, so it is, right? In the end, we clearly proved it, right? That the Vampire deserving of her...is me~

Yuma: Aah? Don’t be spoutin’ bullshit. I’m obviously a better fit for her?

Laito: You’re still surprisingly persistent after everything that happened, huh?

Yuma: Haah? Ya wanna settle the score here?

You run up to them, stopping their fight.

Yuma: ...!? What’s yer problem!? Don’t suddenly jump in between us.

Laito: Nfu~ Don’t worry. We won’t fight. ...Our real enemy seems to be somewhere else after all.

Yuma: Eden’s destruction, the Demon World’s chaos, Demons being hunted down in the human world...On top of that, Karlheinz’s illegitimate child. There’s no way we’ve seen the end of this.

Laito: I know. However, let’s not worry about the future. For now, let’s rejoice we managed to avoid the worst.

The school bell rings in the background.

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) 親離れ or ‘oya-banare’ literally means ‘to leave one’s parents’ and refers to the moment someone starts living alone and becomes independent.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #laito sakamaki #yuma mukami #diabolik lovers versus IV #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd

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oliverwvvd · 3 years ago

Text

the devil in me, part ii

Back to writing these two, inevitably, at long last. This is for the lovely anon who dropped by and mentioned this one, despite it having been years since the last post. This is slightly trigger heavy, so sorry if the triggers contain spoilers, but people's mental health comes first so they can choose whether or not to engage with the content.

This is part of a series. You can find part one here.

pairing: Marcus Flint x Oliver Wood

premise: When Marcus wakes again in the endless white of St Mungo's, Oliver is still there, and his wand is still gone. Marcus thinks it's about debts owed, or at least, that's what he's trying to tell himself. Whatever other reasons might keep Oliver Wood at his bedside aren't remotely within a framework he's equipped to handle. [possible triggers: severe PTSD, hospitals, battle situations, Legilimency, implied invasion of the mind, implied intention not to survive]

When he wakes, one needle is back in his arm and Marcus’ first inclination is to be pissed off about it. Of course it is. Being angry is the best alternative, sublimation for all of the other emotions he should be feeling and isn’t. He doesn’t need any St Mungo’s trained therapist to tell him about that, mainly because it’s deliberate on his part.

“For fuck’s sake,” he mutters. “I don’t want painkiller withdrawal on top of everything else. The dosage has to be sky-high for me not to be feeling anything.”

“So you’d rather have the searing amount of pain that makes you pass out within minutes instead? You’re right; being a masochist is a much better idea.”

He closes his eyes. “Why are you still here, again?”

“Waiting for you to take your head out of your arse, though it seems I’ll be in for a long wait.” The tart rejoinder in a lovely, rolling Scottish brogue that he instinctively wants to wrap himself in doesn’t help his temper. Neither does the fact that Oliver is still too earnest despite the familiar barb in the words, as though he thinks he owes Marcus something. The stubborn set to his jaw is familiar too, viewed more than once when facing him on a Quidditch pitch.

It makes Marcus want to push him away for his own safety, because don’t you know what I am? Instead, his gaze is sulky, as though he’s a teenager again in a way he hasn’t been in years, and it’s solely fixed on Oliver. “I don’t like you, and I don’t want you here,” he says, and if that’s not the biggest lie he’s told in the past couple of years, he’s not entirely sure what is.

Oliver shrugs. “That’s too bad, Flint, because I’m not going anywhere.” He’s wearing a poloneck jumper, just like he used to at school when it got to winter weekends out of uniform, and Marcus has the fleeting, horrifying thought that maybe it covers bruises or worse. A second thought just as horrifying resurfaces: he still doesn’t have his wand.

That thought makes him abruptly change the subject. “Alright, Wood, since you’re here, be a good boy and tell me why I don’t have my wand.” It’s not a question. He doesn’t phrase it as one. To punctuate it and make it clear he’s not asking, Marcus opts to verbally twist the knife for good measure. “You owe me. That’s why you’re here, right? To settle the debt. So start talking.” That’s not a question either, because why else Oliver might be there is more than he can possibly handle getting into.

Oliver’s (Wood’s, damn it) expression darkens momentarily, as though he’s about to pick a fight. Marcus wants him to, because at least that would be normal, but he sees it the moment that Oliver registers he’s in a hospital bed all over again, sees the way his gaze turns pained and then the shutters draw closed again so he’s at a loss for what the other is thinking. He doesn’t like it. Oliver was always an open book, no filter, no love lost on his side of the equation. He doesn’t know what this new thing is.

He clears his throat brusquely. “Well?”

Oliver sighs. “They’re concerned about your mental state as well. That’s why you don’t have your wand. They thought you might try something you’d regret.”

Fury is, of course, the quickest and most reliable reaction. “So they thought they’d improve things by taking away the only piece of autonomy I had available to me for months? That’s genius thinking, that is. Who do I need to see to recommend them for promotion?”

Oliver’s lips twitch briefly then, clearly catching the sarcasm, but at the same time seemingly unable to smile at it. That’s fine, because it’s not funny at all.

Marcus exhales a sharp sigh, one that’s less exasperated by this point than unimpressed. “I suppose they thought I’d curse the whole place down, eh?” This time, it is a question, and the smile that goes with it isn’t genuine, it’s mean and sharp-edged. It’s an echo of all the ugly things that have stained his hands and his mind, and it occurs to him that throughout that, Oliver has been the only good thing, a pure thing he’d constructed for himself, a secret he kept that was sometimes the only reason he didn’t give in altogether. Now that’s done and it’s back to reality.

To his consternation, Oliver shakes his head, as though he can sense what Marcus is thinking. “No one believes that after the battle. You threw yourself in the way of someone that would have been dead if you hadn’t, without knowing whether you’d survive.” The words seemed hard for Oliver to speak, as though it was like a demon lived in his throat for as long as they sat there. “They didn’t know if you were going to pull through, the first couple of days.”

An eye-roll is Marcus’ first response to that, and he averts his gaze from Oliver then. “That was sort of the bloody point, Wood.” The words fall heavily in the room between them, but this time it’s not out of malice, it’s from defeat, an admission that he should have kept to himself. The anger hasn’t emptied its well yet, but for the time being, it’s quiet, a savage thing made somnolent again by the fact that he can feel the needle in his arm start to pour more potion into him. Presumably, it’s going to knock him out eventually.

Oliver’s own exhale is shaken, as though Marcus has punched him square in the solar plexus and it hurts, badly. After all these months of silence, it’s as though the casually cruel words aiming to drive him away are doing more damage than even the war has managed to. “Flint, you can’t just…”

Marcus wants to sit up again but the potion, damn it, feels like it’s got him pinned in place. That makes him edgy, makes him feel the cold sweat of panic beginning to prick, and he absolutely will not have a panic attack of any kind in front of an audience. He swallows hard, and Oliver seems unable to finish the sentence. It hangs there between them, unfinished.

That’s the moment that the door creaks open and the healer walks in, oblivious to the conversation that had been happening beforehand. Oliver leans back in the chair beside Marcus’ bed.

Marcus’ lip curls just slightly. “Come to check I’m still breathing?” he asks snidely. “Sorry to disappoint. You can go now, your duty is done.”

The healer does no such thing. “I’d hoped you’d be asleep by now,” he says with a tsk tsk sound that reminds Marcus of the teachers from school whenever he didn’t do his homework correctly. It does nothing to endear the man to him at all. “Evidently we need to increase your dosage. You shouldn’t have ripped those needles out of your arm as soon as you did, but Mr Wood tells me you have a remarkably high tolerance for pain.”

That causes Marcus’ gaze to narrow in Oliver’s direction, and it’s as accusing as it gets.

Oliver, to his credit (the little of it that Marcus is currently willing to give) doesn’t look away. “I’ve been in the Hospital Wing with you multiple times,” is the reminder that unexpectedly arrives, softer than he’s ever deserved. “You never took your painkillers. You always cast Evanesco.”

On the one hand, Marcus’ glare only intensifies, because Oliver’s just ratted him out to the healer. On the other, what does it even mean that Oliver remembers; how there seems to be something dark and sad behind his gaze ever since a few minutes ago. It doesn’t correlate with his real life knowledge of Wood, only the fantasy version he constructed in his head to have a reason to go on, and Marcus is fully aware of how incredibly unhealthy that was and is.

It’s only the healer’s voice that interrupts their charged stare, clearly ready to go for another lecture. “Well, there will be no hiding painkillers here. What were you thinking, taking those out? Did you just not realise the degree of damage you took?” It isn’t an indignant pair of questions, instead asked with the tone of someone who wants to understand the subject they are studying. It presses all of the wrong buttons for Marcus, and he endures it in silence until he can’t.

This is the moment he snaps. But it isn’t like every other time he’s lost his temper. No, this is different; his voice is surprisingly quiet and unsteady when he speaks. “Why does everyone want to know what I’m thinking suddenly? I’ve just spent the last two years having my mind pulled apart at a moment’s notice. All that I want is for everyone to stop trying to get into my head because I don’t want anyone in there ever again. Got it? It’s none of your business what I’m thinking.”

Dimly, he registers that Oliver has gone pale as he starts to understand what Marcus means. The healer looks appalled, because evidently, this was something undetectable while he was unconscious, and he’s beyond lashing out, because this has hit places he doesn’t want to go.

“Get out.” The words are quieter still, and there’s a flat, dulled down, deadly note to them.

Even half-conscious on a bed, drugged by the potion, it leaves to question what Marcus is capable of, the one thing no one has dared to think about so far. It’s a weak threat, but his voice carries all of it, like it’s every atom of a star at the moment of destruction.

The healer leaves. Oliver doesn’t, because Oliver hasn’t learned to be afraid of him, even though he should have.

When Marcus looks at him again, he thinks that he sees Oliver flinch, just a little around the eyes, and he knows he’s going to say something unforgivable if he isn’t left alone. “I meant you as well.” The words are empty. You need to go before I do any more things that I regret, and I can’t live with any more.

Oliver doesn’t listen. Instead, he does something that Marcus can handle even less. He climbs onto the bed and rests there next to him, close enough for Marcus to feel him breathe. “You’re really not a good listener, Flint. I already told you. I’m not leaving.”

Marcus’ hands suddenly feel too heavy, utterly ineffectual when he tries to raise them to push Wood right off the bed. Land on his arse. That’ll show him. Instead, his head starts to nod forward, and Oliver, the scheming bastard, must have known that the potion would take effect soon, had kept him talking until he had no choice but to go back to sleep again.

He’s so angry. He’s exhausted. He’s repeating the same cycle, inescapable, stuck on a loop of his own making. There’s wool against his face, something warm against his back. Oliver’s voice is there, he can feel it rumble in his chest, but the words don’t even register. It’s a warm sound, like copper and firelight, and it’s the last thing in his dwindling awareness before the world is lost altogether.

The frightening part is that he’s starting to want to wake up again.

That wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

#the devil in me #ol writes things #flintwood #flintwoodnet #marcus flint #oliver wood #marcus x oliver

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ahgaseda · 4 years ago

Text

pray | two

you are more than my existence, please listen to my prayer, hold me, tell me about myself, call my name so I can know who I am...

summary : everyone knows of the unspeakable evil that lives on the mountain, but you willingly sacrifice yourself to the demon named Jaebeom, as long as he takes you far away from the monster waiting for you at home.

warnings : strong profanity, explicit dialogue, instances of blood and violence, graphic sexual content, black magic themes, potentially triggering elements that involve mentions of past child abuse, mental health, etc.

miniseries chapters : one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

For the first few days, you returned to the border without fail. Waiting, but mostly hoping and praying that an entrance was made for you. It went without saying you navigated the edge of the forest, searching for the slightest break in the trees and thorns for you to slip inside. You were ready to endure any injury to be back where you belonged.

Of one thing you were certain - you hated Jaebeom. How he had taken everything from you. It was selfish and cruel, and you would never forgive him for it as long as you lived.

After weeks passed and the woods remained silent as the grave, wholly impenetrable, you finally surrendered. The last time you stood before the forest, you bid her a tender farewell.

You would give anything to know Jaebeom felt your pain, that he longed for you in his heart as much as you did for him. The woods must have been lonely.

Did you cross his mind at all? Even for just a moment?

A voice came from behind you, jeering, “And here she is again, staring at a wall of trees.”

“Hello, Gale,” you droned with disinterest.

A more arrogant and disdainful boy never existed than Gale. As a child, he often led the charge of children throwing rocks as you passed by. He always shouted the loudest when it came to how alone and pitiful you were.

But in more recent years, as you developed into a young woman, his gaze became less scornful and more filled with something worse.

He came to stand beside you, though his presence was unwanted, and spoke mischievously, “I can think of much better ways to occupy your time.”

“I’m sure you could,” you spoke, monotonous and uninterested.

Neither your body language or tone could dissuade him. “Everyone has advised me against my attraction to you,” he continued, moving even closer to your side.

You avoided his eyes and retorted, “For that I am eternally grateful.”

Gale ignored your response altogether and said, “They say you’re wild, untamed, and that you would not be a good, dutiful wife.”

Music to my ears, you mused, fighting back a grin. “They are absolutely right.”

Gale crept closer, until you could smell him, until you could feel his hot breath on the top of your shoulder. Your entire body bristled, wary.

“I spent a lot of time with horses, the kind we use for war, and I can assure you,” he whispered coldly. “Even the wildest of them can be broken into submission.”

You rounded on him, refusing to show him even the slightest of fear, and countered, “I’m not a horse. I’m a woman. And I would defy you with every breath in my body until the day I died.”

Gale’s lips broke into a broad smile and he cooed, “And that is what I desire about you.”

You rolled your eyes, parting from the border with a rush to your step. Gale was unnerving. There was malice in his eyes. He didn’t see you as a human, he made that abundantly clear. To him you were an animal, a trophy; something to own and mount on the wall.

He followed you closely, losing what little patience he had. “I would rather you accept my proposal willingly.”

You snorted and kept walking, exclaiming, “That was a proposal?”

“Yes,” he replied, puffing out his chest. “I want you for my wife.”

The mere thought set a bad taste on your tongue. You frowned, wrinkling your nose, and said, “I have no interest in having you as my husband.”

Angered, Gale grabbed your arm roughly and yanked you back, nearly knocking you off of your feet if not for how solidly he gripped you. “And do you think you will ever find better than me?” he shouted, leering over you.

You stared up at him in defiance and said, “I already found better than you and I loved him. And I can still taste his kisses.”

Gale blinked rapidly, shock fading into jealousy. “Is that so? Then, where is he? I do hope I’m invited to the wedding,” he sneered, mocking.

You bit your lip, eyes filling with tears at the memory of Jaebeom casting you out of the forest.

“You are an insane little thing,” Gale muttered, tightening his grip on your arms until you whimpered. “If not for how beautiful you are, I would never waste my time on you.”

At that, Gale released you harshly and skulked away, leaving you with your tears.

You turned a little, gazing solemnly at the forest in the distance. It was time to let go, time to move on. You would have to focus on self-preservation for the foreseeable future. And so you stopped visiting the border, forcing yourself to keep from looking in the woods’ direction.

On the morning of your eighteenth birthday, you wanted nothing more than to stay in bed. It had been a year since you last saw Jaebeom.

Despite your sadness, your father would never allow you to spend a day in your room and you continued on as if it were any other Thursday. You sat at the table and picked at your breakfast.

Your father did little to hide his eagerness at the offers he received for your hand in marriage. He planned to build his small fortune on your back.

However, the current war waged between men had put a delay on the arranged marriage. And your father’s temper had never been worse.

He reached sharply across the table and grabbed your wrist, growling, “You had better make this man happy. I will hear nothing of you resisting his advances. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, father,” you spoke submissively. You knew nothing of the man he mentioned, only that he would soon own you.

There used to be more fire in you, but it had burned out. Every day felt as cold as the forest had been when she was taken from you.

Your father continued to rant, but his voice faded into the background. All you could think about was the kiss with Jaebeom on your last birthday. Your first kiss. And you shared it with a demon in the canopy of the forest, watching the sun go down.

There was nothing that could compare, nothing that could ease the pain of having lost your only friend on the same day you realized you were in love with him.

Commotion outside tore you from your melancholy thoughts.

Your father glanced through the window, brows stitching, and huffed irritably, “Damn kids harassing something again.”

That piqued your attention. You excused yourself and gathered your heavy skirt in your hands, hurrying outside to see what the rowdy neighborhood boys had found this time. Once you rescued a nest of eggs from their clutches. On another occasion you saved a fawn with an injured leg from their amusement.

This time, the boys were chasing a little black shadow and cornered it along the fence by the chicken coop. Only when you squinted and looked closer did you realize it was a baby panther.

“What is wrong with you?” you exclaimed, snatching a stick from one of the boys’ hands and slapping him over the head with it. “It’s just a baby, you brat!”

“Give it to me,” jeered another boy. “My father can make a little rug from its pelt.”

“I will skin you first if you touch it,” you threatened with a snarl, approaching the small beast delicately.

She seemed to sense your intentions and did not attempt to bite when you hoisted her up by the scruff. You cradled her in your arms, seeing she was female, and spoke soothingly to her.

The little cub wailed, starving for food.

The door to the nearby house burst open and a man wielding a knife yelled, “That little beast killed two of my chickens!”

Your eyes widened at the weapon he brandished and you knew the cub was about to suffer a brutal fate. You couldn’t stomach the thought and so you did what you had always done.

You ran.

The boys shouted with disappointment and called for their fathers. The man preparing to butcher the cub warned of punishment you would endure for blatantly defying him. Another voice, belonging to your father, broke through them all, demanding you stop dead in your tracks.

You listened to none, thinking only of the innocent beast in your arms. She gave no struggle, only gazed up at you with warm yellow eyes. For an animal, she seemed well-aware of the dire situation.

You ran until the border came in sight. Months had passed since you saw its thorns. They had not moved even an inch since the day you were barred from entry, but you had to try.

“You have to let me in,” you yelled with conviction. “I won’t let them kill her!”

The little cub mewled in your arms.

For a moment, you were met with only silence and your heart sank. Someone or something had weighed the scales and did not find in your favor. Tears filled your eyes and you whimpered, desperate.

Then, the forest groaned. It knew your voice, even after all this time.

The boughs shifted and the thorns parted. You were given the smallest of entries, enough space for one person as if you were a highly kept secret. You knew, thought it went unsaid, that the forest would certainly seal itself again in your wake, trapping you inside forever.

This was it.

You contemplated setting the cub at the edge and ushering her inside, but there was no one to feed or protect her. Then, you looked down at the cub and chuckled at your own hesitation. Your heart belonged in the forest and now you could finally return home.

You pressed inside, vanishing into the darkness.

After only a few steps, the thorns came alive again. No one would be able to follow you.

You cradled the cub close to your chest protectively and walked. You had no idea where to go, no thought of where you should go. You merely walked among the trees, breathing in the icy air that tickled your skin.

The forest had darkened. Light struggled to seep through the canopy. You could hardly see ahead and your breath appeared like smoke from your mouth. The cub noticed too and burrowed against your breasts for warmth.

“Don’t worry,” you cooed, exhaling heavily so your breath was manifest. “I’m a dragon.”

The joke may have amused you, but it was lost on the cub’s ears. She whined and hid her face in your arms with a mewl.

You pressed on, reaching the small clearing that once made your heart soar. The ground was brittle, the grass had died. A howl echoed amidst the darkness.

The forest had remained bound in winter for an entire year.

Rustling tickled your ears. The air chilled even more. Ice nearly formed on your lips and lashes. You shivered in place, hands turning numb. But you stood firm, knowing he had come.

Jaebeom descended from the shadows above and your heart jumped wildly in your ribcage. His feet touched the ground and his wings swept gracefully around him, coming to perch over his head.

“I told you,” Jaebeom warned through clenched jaws. “Never to come back here.”

You glared vehemently at him, how he could treat you with such frigid judgment. But you were quick to notice the year had not treated him kindly either. Darkness marred his beautiful, piercing eyes. Even more ink seemed to be branded across his chest. Despite the anger coursing through you, you wanted nothing more than to kiss him and melt the ice.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” you murmured shakily, glancing down at the beast you had smuggled inside. “They wanted to slaughter this little cub.”

Jaebeom took a step closer, peering down at the ebony creature in your arms. She turned and with one look at him, hissed in defiance. You fought a grin, pleased at her reaction.

That was why the forest let you in, Jaebeom mulled with a frown. Your willingness to protect nature. The wood heeded his wishes, but he was also required to heed hers. It was a mutual, symbiotic relationship.

Though he cursed the forest in his mind for letting you inside, he knew she would hear no argument of sending you back.

Jaebeom moved closer, wings dragging the ground behind him. “Are you afraid, cheonsa?” he asked lowly, almost in intimidation.

You hardened your gaze and replied, “No.”

Jaebeom tilted his head and persisted, “But you know I’m a monster.”

You eyed the great horns on his head and scoffed. “You are no monster compared to them.”

Jaebeom came even nearer and you could hardly breathe. Winter had taken residence in his chest and was freezing everything around him. He reached out and stroked a thumb over your cheek. You sucked in a breath. Despite his cold, he carried the scent of a raging wildfire, destroying all in its path.

“If I steal you away, you will be my bride,” Jaebeom reminded, his voice almost like a song. “Can you fathom that - being the demon’s bride?”

You countered, ��You can’t steal what is already yours.”

Jaebeom’s eyes flickered and he was tempted to smile. A year for you had been an eternity for him. It still perplexed him how he had been able to survive for so long without you. His wings arched, flaring out in display.

“You broke my heart, Jaebeom,” you whispered morosely. “You chose my life for me.”

Jaebeom nodded, apologetic though he dared not apologize. “Fate had other plans,” he replied gruffly.

“If not for the war, I would be married by now,” you told him with a foul taste in your mouth, then snorted. “It’s been a year. I would undoubtedly have a child as well.”

Jaebeom stuttered, imagining the great swell of your belly or the sight of a dark-haired newborn nursing at your breast. He could barely force out the question, “Do you… want children?”

For the past year, you had been forced to give the notion plenty of thought. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you replied softly, “If I have a child I want them to be from a place of love and passion. Not convenience or obligation.”

“I understand,” said Jaebeom with a nod, glancing down at the cub once more. The little thing promptly gave a high-pitched growl at him.

You looked up at him with wide eyes, surprised. “Do you?”

“Yes.”

Your cheeks flushed as you asked, “Is that what you want from me?”

“What?” Jaebeom exclaimed. “No.”

You searched his face in confusion and pressed, “Then, why do you have to take a bride?”

Jaebeom pursed his lips and spoke dryly, “The Master commands it.”

You shuddered when you realized who he was referring to and said, “He’s not here. Why do it?”

“As we age our magic grows,” Jaebeom explained, surprisingly patient. “That’s why the forest is saturated in black magic.”

You waited.

“We have to find someone, someone we can bond our souls with, or the magic will become too much. It will kill us.”

Your eyes widened. “You mean, I will bear magic?”

He gave a single nod. “Yes.”

Your imagination ran wild and you asked, “Will I grow horns or wings?”

“No, you will stay as you are, but the sun will not smile upon you any longer.”

You sighed, softening a little, “I will be doomed to live in the darkness. Just like you. That’s why you pushed me away.”

Jaebeom’s eyes shone with unshed tears and he reached to cup your cheek, desperate to feel your skin beneath his fingertips again. He pulled you close, lips mere inches from yours, and whispered, “I saw you in the sun. I could never bring myself to take that away from you.”

You set your jaw and replied, “They can keep the sun, but you stole away my light for a year. For what I thought would be the rest of my life.”

Jaebeom winced, hearing that pained him though he already knew it deeply. “I promise, I will spend every day until my last making it up to you.”

You fought a smile, lowering your head to hide the corners of your mouth lifting.

Jaebeom slipped his hand beneath your chin, tilting up until your eyes were on him again. “Well?”

You sang quietly, “The demon comes to take her away. On a bed of stars they will lay.”

Jaebeom smirked before finishing, “And never again will she see the light of day.”

You giggled. It should have come as no surprise he knew the songs your people sang of his kind.

A scream sharply pierced the forest, making your blood run cold. You whirled around, shuffling backwards in horror. Jaebeom wrapped his arms around your waist and steered you behind him.

“What is that?” you gasped. The cub in your arms stirred restlessly, terrified.

“The forest is wounded,” he told you angrily, charging forward. His great wings fanned out, bristling with aggression.

Gale stepped with purpose inside, sword glistening with the dew of trees and vines. He had cut and sliced an opening for himself in pursuit of you.

The moment Jaebeom came into view, Gale gripped the hilt with both hands and held it before himself, shouting, “Stay back, demon!”

Jaebeom was livid and snarled, “You dare bring steel inside this place?”

You molded yourself to his back, a hand on Jaebeom’s arm, and called incredulously, “Gale, what are you doing?”

Gale felt his blood boiling at the sight of you in a demon’s clutches and said, “I saw you run here. I know you’ve been entering the forbidden woods all along.”

Jaebeom snapped, “Be gone from here.”

“Like hell I will,” Gale retorted. “Do you think you can steal my fiancee?”

Jaebeom scowled, seething.

“Your what?” you blurted in disbelief. “Gale, I said I will never marry you!”

“Your father agreed.”

You stood there dumbfounded. It was your worst nightmare come true.

Jaebeom’s wings rustled, a testament to his fury - and his restraint.

Gale held out his hand and called your name. “Come. He won’t take you while I have a sword.”

Jaebeom grimaced, eyeing the weapon with nothing short of loathing.

You let your hand slip down Jaebeom’s arm, moving past him until he was behind you. Jaebeom didn’t stop you. He knew the choice was yours and he would have to live with whatever you decided.

“You said I was insane,” you told Gale, gazing down at the cub against your chest. “Maybe I am. But not nearly insane enough to marry the likes of you.”

Gale recoiled and his face tensed with rage. “You little bitch, come with me now. I bought you fair and square!”

You met his eyes and felt only sympathy. And after a pause, you said, “I am where I belong.”

Jaebeom moved faster than you thought possible, sweeping you in his arms and taking to the air with a forceful beat of his great wings.

Gale’s shouts and threats faded into the rushing of wind.

You gripped Jaebeom tightly, gasping for air and lost for words. The demon soared through the forest, branches moving from his path and birds singing his arrival. When he broke through the canopy, you gasped at the thick fog around you, the same clouds you remembered surrounding the mountain.

Jaebeom flew higher and higher. Your ears began to ring. Your breaths were labored. You had never been at such an altitude. The cub in your arms screamed its confusion.

With you in his arms, the demon burst through the clouds, alighting on a precipice of stone. You looked around curiously, gasping at the sight of a looming castle before you.

For a moment, you held Jaebeom tightly, peering over the crest of his shoulder. He rather liked the heat of your rapid panting on his neck and made no moves to set you down.

“Where are we?”

“Home,” Jaebeom replied softly.

“This is your home?” you asked, voice trembling from the flight as you gawked at the many turrets and towers.

“Our home,” Jaebeom whispered in your ear, nuzzling his face in your hair. The scent of you was overwhelming.

“And what about this little shadow?” you asked, leaning down to kiss the brow of your baby panther. She closed her eyes contentedly at your affection though her fur still stood on end from defying gravity.

Jaebeom lowered you to the ground, an arm wrapped around your waist until you found your balance. “She’s all yours,” he droned. “I’ll have no part in raising her.”

“Shadow,” you mulled to yourself, meeting the yellow eyes of your new companion. “I quite like that name.”

You placed the cub on the ground and she danced at your feet, following you dutifully as you walked with Jaebeom into the castle. The demon pushed open the double doors and you stepped into the endless stone foyer, the pitter-patter of your bare feet echoing down the walls.

“It’s massive,” you said, gazing up at the ceiling and spinning in a circle.

“Mostly unused,” Jaebeom told you blithely. “I tend to keep myself between the bedroom and the kitchen.”

You chuckled, twirling again. Little Shadow refused to part from your feet.

Jaebeom watched you with delight, but you would have never known given the lack of expression on his face. “That… human in the forest,” he began.

“Gale.”

Jaebeom clearly wanted more explanation than that and pressed, “He was your betrothed?”

You laughed. “No. Definitely not.”

Jaebeom still wasn’t satisfied. “He seemed to think so.”

You finally faced him and quipped, “Then, he is much crazier than he ever said I was.”

Jaebeom tilted his head, smiling slightly. “Do your people consider you insane?”

You beamed with pride. “Very much so.”

The demon chuckled.

You studied him, approaching him with purpose in your step, and began, “All of my betrothals fell through. Men were ready to pay for ownership of me. Did you have something to do with their failures?”

Jaebeom shrugged and replied, “Men are preoccupied with the war between realms.”

You cocked a brow. “And how would you know that?”

“I have prayed every day since you left that the war would never end,” Jaebeom told you solemnly.

Folding your arms, you shot back, “I didn’t leave. I was cast out.”

Jaebeom felt his heart clench and hardened his gaze. He reached out and took your hand, bringing it to his lips for a chaste kiss. “And how long are you going to hold that against me?”

You smiled up at him and smarted, “For as long as it pleases me.”

Jaebeom wanted to chuckle. His heart was spinning, dancing in circles. Every moment you stood there before him he found it harder and harder to breathe.

When he woke up this morning, he had no idea you would be with him.

But here you were, the brightest of smiles on your lips, traveling up to your glistening eyes. Jaebeom was hopelessly drowning in his feelings for you.

You blushed when he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His bare chest was hot beneath your fingertips and you wanted to trace the pattern of one of his many tattoos.

“Do you accept me as your husband?”

You stared up at him, the grin making your cheeks hurt, and replied with a single nod, “I do.”

Jaebeom ran his thumb over your bottom lip, studying you intently. “Come with me then,” he beckoned with a low voice.

“Where?”

“To bed,” he replied bluntly, taking your hand and leading you beside him.

Your eyes widened and you asked curiously, “Are you trying to bed me without a wedding?”

He looked over his shoulder. “When I said make you my bride…”

“Oh, I see,” you said, planting your feet and letting your hand slip from his grasp. “I want something more binding.”

Jaebeom stopped, pivoting on his heels to face you, and his wings shuddered with excitement. “There is nothing more binding than me claiming you as my own.”

You found your resolve and reminded him, “Once upon a time, I offered myself to you.”

Jaebeom paused, heart heavy, and murmured, “I remember.”

Your lip trembled. “You made me feel unworthy.”

Jaebeom asserted, “I was the one that wasn’t worthy.”

You sighed. There you stood in the castle of a demon, about to become his bride for all eternity. You had prayed and wished for freedom and protection all your life, and he would forever be your lighthouse in the storm.

One day you would let go of your anger.

“I fully intend to surrender my virtue to you, Jaebeom,” you told him. “But first, I want marriage.”

Jaebeom wrinkled his nose. “Hmph.”

“And a wedding,” you added, at this point resorting to humor to relieve the tension you caused.

“Fine,” he said shortly.

“It can be just us,” you continued, slipping back into his embrace and wrapping your arms around his waist. “And someone obviously to perform the ceremony. Whatever you desire.”

Jaebeom roamed his hands to rest on your hips and his great wings moved instinctively around you, shielding you from invisible dangers. “My only desire is you…,” he finally revealed. “And whatever makes you happy.”

You batted your lashes. “I would not be opposed to a white dress, if you happen to have one.”

Jaebeom exhaled loudly, searching his thoughts for where in hell’s name he could find one. “I need to send a few letters.”

At that, his hands slipped free of your body and he began striding down the hall.

You followed him eagerly, hot on his heels, and asked with excitement, “Does this mean we will fly again?”

Jaebeom turned, brows furrowed. “No,” he replied flatly, pushing a door open and pointing inside. “Stairs.”

“How boring,” you whined, proceeding forward.

The two of you appeared in one of the higher towers, a turret with glassless windows. Ravens congregating inside squawked at your sudden arrival, but quieted at the sight of their fellow winged creature.

Jaebeom took small rolls of paper on the nearby table and began scribbling with a narrow piece of charcoal. You watched in silence as he prepared six brief letters, tucking each into the ankle band of a crow and sending it out into the sky.

“Ravens,” you thought aloud. “We use doves.”

“Doves have very small attention spans and even smaller brains,” Jaebeom deadpanned.

You giggled.

Returning to the main hallway from the tower, Jaebeom said, “Come along. I will show you to your room.”

“My room?” you questioned in pleasant surprise.

Jaebeom held out his arm and you looped yours in the crook of his elbow. “Assuming you won’t come to bed with me until we’re married, it would be poor manners to put you in my room.”

You chuckled. “I see.”

He escorted you to a door and explained, “This is the only spare bedroom that gets any use. My fellow demons sometimes stay here when they come to this side of the forest.”

You nodded to let him know you understood.

Jaebeom pushed the door open and ushered you inside.

“Oh,” you gasped, eyes widening at the scale of your room. Massive windows graced the far wall, curtains blowing lightly in the breeze. The bed lay in the center, on a raised platform, and a canopy of white gossamer material gathered overhead, tied to each of the bedposts.

Your vision darted to the desk along the wall, littered in writing materials. Then, you looked to the bookshelf and quaint reading nook, wanting to throw yourself on the velvet chaise and feel its warmth.

Shadow bolted inside, nearly colliding into your legs, and began to survey the room for herself. You giggled at her joy, following after the baby panther and plopping down on the side of the bed.

Jaebeom struggled to hide his smile more than ever, but his pale face stayed constant. He proceeded to say his goodbyes, allowing you to get settled with privacy.

“Jaebeom,” you called, before he could shut the door.

Jaebeom stuck his head back in and asked, “Yes?”

You gripped the side of the bed, your legs hanging and unable to touch the floor, and hoped he would sate your curiosity. “Do demons really steal away only the most beautiful of mortal women for their brides?”

Jaebeom bobbed his head. “Those of us doomed to live among mortals have no other choice. The Master keeps all she-demons in Hell with him.”

You blinked. “Oh.”

Jaebeom shifted his weight, his wings curling to his back almost in embarrassment as he continued, “We aren’t like your kind. No demon forces a woman into bed with him.”

You had tried to veil the question, but clearly he had realized what you were after and his answer put you at ease.

“We mate for life. Whoever we give ourselves to is our mate until we die. We need them to want us.”

You stood, approaching him somberly. “Am I free to leave? If there ever came a time…”

Though you had accepted him, Jaebeom understood you would want reassurance that you weren’t a prisoner in his castle. “I could not stop you,” he said, tender.

“Even if I am your mate?”

“Then, I would go the rest of my life with half of me missing.”

That’s right, you remembered. He said you would bear magic. “It sounds intense,” you told him. “So final.”

Jaebeom snorted. “We demons tend to live in extremes. Very dramatic, the lot of us.”

Heat flushed your cheeks when you asked shyly, “Would you prefer to have a demoness as your mate?”

Jaebeom shrugged. “I’ve never laid eyes on one.”

You looked down bashfully, tucking hair behind your ear, and mumbled, “I’m sure they’re far more beautiful than I am.”

Jaebeom felt his hands twitching with the urge to take you in his arms again as he whispered, “Nothing in this world or beneath it is more beautiful than you are.”

You lifted your head, gazing up at him while your heart fluttered.

“I’ve said too much,” Jaebeom huffed, gliding back to the door. “Rest now, cheonsa.”

“Why do you call me that?”

He paused, then teased, “It means… clumsy one, in my mother tongue.”

Somehow, you knew that wasn’t true.

Turning back to your room, you grinned and danced on your toes. It was a far cry from your little cot in the attic of your father’s house. Shadow whined at you, curling comfortably on the bed.

But you couldn’t sleep. Excitement raced violently through your veins. You smiled until you covered your face with your hands. Despite having no wings on your back, you swore you could fly.

Here you were, stepping into a new life; one you had always dreamt of, but could never reach.

As you lay on your back in bed, comforted by the crisp night air slipping past your curtains and into your sheets, you thought of Jaebeom. Your mind was consumed with memories of him.

You licked your lips, thinking of his broad chest and muscled arms. He had felt so strong when he carried you through the forest, as if you had been weightless. You imagined it must take endless restraint to keep from breaking you.

Your pulse quickened as you thought of your kiss beneath the trees, how carefully he had laid you on a bed of grass. How gentle his caresses and touches had been.

You tossed and turned a last time before giving up. Such a fool, you thought. As much as you had longed for Jaebeom, every moment of every day for the past year, to be sleeping in the room across the hall from him.

Smirking, you sat up in bed, looking to the baby panther asleep on one of the pillows. You gave her chin a scratch and sang, “Stay here, little Shadow.”

The door to Jaebeom’s room creaked no matter how slowly you pushed it open and you winced. To your relief, the figure in bed did not stir. Tiptoeing closer, you marveled his wings and how they tucked to his body like armor whilst he slept.

You pushed aside the wisp of curtains hanging from his bedframe and climbed onto the mattress, propping yourself over him. How beautiful he was, you thought. You were green with envy at the length of his lashes.

Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his with the most innocent of kisses.

His eyes slowly opened. Clearly he had not been asleep.

“Why are you…” Jaebeom began.

“I changed my mind,” you interjected.

He cocked a brow. “About?”

You straddled his hips and pulled the nightgown over your head, revealing your naked body for the first time.

Jaebeom swallowed the lump in his throat, eyes on your breasts before returning to your face. “No wedding?” he asked, more so for your benefit.

“Yes, wedding and the white dress,” you said levelly. “Tomorrow.”

Jaebeom brought his hands to your thighs, caressing his way to your hips and waist. Then, he confessed like a solemn vow, “All I’ve thought about is you. Every waking moment is you. Every dream I dream is of you.”

You felt tears in your eyes and whispered, “Kiss me, Jaebeom.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. Jaebeom sat up, ensnaring your body in his arms and molding his lips to yours. You held his face in your hands, kissing him back with desire before raking your fingers through his dark hair.

Jaebeom rose with you in his arms, guiding your legs to lock around his waist. His massive wings were daunting as they shrouded protectively over you. They shuddered and rustled with arousal, restless.

You slipped your hands through his locks and gripped his horns, feeling their ridges from base to tip. They were sharp, no surprise there, but Jaebeom seemed to feel nothing.

His wings were entirely different. The moment you touched where they connected to his shoulders, the wings came alive, fluttering. You danced your fingertips through his feathers, pleased at the way Jaebeom’s breaths staggered out as you kissed and touched him.

When you had your fill, you took his hand, fingers covered in black script, and brought it to your mouth, pressing kiss after kiss to his knuckles.

Jaebeom returned your affection, lingering his lips on the curve of your neck, trailing kisses to your collarbone and the swell of your breast. His hand slipped from your grasp and his palms roamed your body, drawn to the softness of your skin. You let out a small whimper when his thumbs rolled over your nipples.

Finally, he tightened his arms around you and asked, “Are you sure?”

You gave him a nod. “Yes.”

Jaebeom pressed his lips to your chest, squarely over your heart. The brands appeared, flesh-colored. Not stark black like his. The markings blended in with your skin.

You clenched your teeth and hissed. The burn of his branding was not painful, but the searing heat took you by surprise. You relaxed when you realized you were in no discomfort.

Then, you tipped your head back and moaned softly. Magic was coursing through your veins, from the tips of your fingers to the soles of your feet. White hot fire pulsed from your heart, like you were consumed in flames.

Jaebeom pulled back, gazing down at his handiwork. The script was in his mother tongue, which one day he hoped you would speak fluently with him. The magic would seep into your bones, living inside you until you both returned to the earth.

“The first of many,” Jaebeom growled, eager to see more brands spread from the anchor across your heart.

You smiled down at him, reaching for his naked chest to trace your fingertips over winding letters that lined his muscles.

Jaebeom cradled your face, running a thumb over your cheek affectionately. You couldn’t part your gaze from his eyes for even a moment.

“Please be gentle,” you whispered shyly.

Jaebeom tugged you down, kissing your lips. Then, his hand parted from your face and landed on your naked breast. “You will never know pain from me, my love,” he growled, kneading your mound. “Only pleasure.”

You swallowed thickly, desperate to kiss him again.

Jaebeom gathered you in his arms and turned, laying you softly on your back and making a place for himself between your thighs. His great wings arched and splayed, hiding you within.

His wings shuddered as he made love to you, like the ecstasy of your body unhinged them. You would never forget how it felt to be one with him, how he not only filled you, but made you overflow. And Jaebeom would never forget how you cried out his name when he found release in you.

Never had you been more satisfied. Every ache in your body was gone, never to return. The longing in your soul had dissipated. You were completely whole. All of your life you had been running and searching.

Finally, you were home.

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