#tw: demon possession

[deunmiu-dessie]

ⅲ▬ ⁽ 𝒹𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓃 ⁾²

part one

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₇˖₅ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW,  explicit content, teratophilia, demon/human, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cunnilingus (both receiving), overstimulation. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: with your escape from your kidnapping, you find yourself now stranded in a world unfamiliar to you, how will you get home?

꒰m!demon ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱

𝒴 ou find yourself lost in thought, pondering how long you've been sitting outside. Your trusty (albeit broken) silver watch stubbornly displays midnight, but time seems irrelevant in this alternate world where minutes stretch into eternity. The rhythmic patter of raindrops keeps you company on the balcony, drawing you in with its soothing melody. Despite the allure of a cozy bed mere steps away, you remain entranced by the stormy night. Rain has always been your sanctuary, a source of comfort in turbulent times. And much like the rain, you find beauty in the fog that accompanies it, shrouding the world in a veil of mystery and distorting the passage of time.

In this enchanting world, you find yourself drawn to its allure. The raindrops fall delicately, resembling glittering diamonds, while the thick and mesmerizing fog gracefully enveloped everything in sight. Despite its seemingly monotonous nature, the sound of rain became a melody that resonated with your soul, especially during the serene nights when your neighborhood fell into a peaceful slumber. However, you were no longer in the comfort of your own home. Instead, there was a certain allure in venturing outside in this strange world during your unconventional waking hours, embracing the rain as it transformed the radiant light of the two moons into a muted glow amidst the stormy clouds. The lantern lights shimmered briefly, casting a magical glow before fading away. This was the embodiment of tranquility.

Your eyes trail to where the last lantern light on the garden flickers out, and your body turns rigid as something, tall, lanky, and dark comes slinking your way, well not necessarily your way, but down the path in your direction. The rain intensifies, drumming against the balcony railing and soaking your legs and feet. Perhaps your mind is playing tricks on you? You were stressed and scared. A crashing sound of thunder startles you, a trail of goosebumps crawling up your arms. The sensation of them developing sends a quiver down your spine, one that leaves your bones rattling and achy.

As the rain continues to pour down heavily, the path ahead becomes a blur, even with the faint light of the moons flickering through the clouds. You can almost feel the wetness of the soil beneath your feet, the sensation of it squishing between your toes. The raindrops relentlessly peck at your face, while the gentle rustling of the trees creates a comforting hum. It's as if Mother Nature herself is embracing you. Suddenly, a sharp pang of unease shoots through your chest, causing your eyes to flutter open.

You raise your head from its tilted position and peer down the path below the balcony. It's not a long stretch, the length of a car and then some. Your breath catches in your throat as you spot something peculiar. The figure that had been walking along the trail earlier, which you had dismissed as a figment of your fear, now stands at the end of your balcony. It is drenched and covered in a mysterious black substance. Although still tall, it no longer possesses its unnaturally thin appearance.

A terrifying grin stretches across its mouth, revealing a multitude of razor-sharp teeth, causing an uncontrollable scream to burst from your lips. In a frantic scramble, you seek refuge within the confines of your room, desperately hoping to evade the horrifying sight. The name you scream had meant to scream was Elmira, but out came, "U-Ulysses!" Your body turns into a puddle of goo, hot, sappy goo when a large hand settles over your eyes to obscure your vision. "Well aren't you a troublemaker?" he remarks, his eyebrows minutely creasing at the warmth emanating from your forehead and skin. As your hand rests upon his, he takes note of the clamminess of your palm.

"Do you like the rain?"

Amidst the relentless downpour, his voice cuts through the noise, smooth and velvety. It's reminiscent of savoring a fine whiskey, leaving a warm trail down your throat. You can't help but wonder if he tastes just as divine or otherwordly, and that thought alone makes your eyebrows furrow softly. You can feel his eyes on you, curious and searching. Knowing. Your words come out almost incoherent, but he doesn't seem to mind. His hearing is ten times sharper than yours, after all. Your voice, like a serene lake, barely makes a ripple. As your lips part, his eyes follow every movement with unwavering attention.

“I do.”

The rain has been falling relentlessly for hours, the constant pitter-patter on the ground and roof soothing you into a cozy and passionate state. Your affection for the rain is unwavering, it's a love that will never fade. Observing it brings back memories of your dreams, those beautiful dreams where you're standing in a vast field, letting the rain drench your clothes and moisten your skin. It's just you and the raindrops. The rain brings you solace. That's why you have no qualms about watching it endlessly.

“Do you like the rain?”

Your question catches him off guard, yet he craves the feeling of vulnerability you display by trusting and relying on him, despite your previous lack of trust.

“No.”

As your sight remains obscured, you're swiftly hoisted off the ground, the creature beneath you fading from your mind and your heart gradually returning to its normal rhythm. You hesitate to inquire further, realizing you're essentially a prisoner in this situation, with him as your captor.

“Why.”

As you both walk in silence, there is a sense of comfort that envelops you. It's a silence that doesn't make you feel awkward or embarrassed about the lack of response from him. Suddenly, a thought crosses your mind - where exactly are you heading? Although the bed assigned to you wasn't too distant, it feels like you've been strolling together for quite some time.

"Where are you taking me?"

As soon as your question leaves your lips, the unmistakable sound of a door slamming shut echoes through the room. Suddenly, you find yourself being gently placed onto a much larger bed than the one you were initially provided. "You'll be staying in my quarters until I can resolve the issue with the infestation,"

As your vision returns, you sit upright on the bed and fix your gaze upon him, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Are you talking about mice? Or rats?" A blush spreads across your cheeks when he glances at you sideways, emitting a small chuckle devoid of humor. "Sure," he replies.

Sliding off the bed, you cross your arms protectively over your chest. "I won't be staying in a room with you. Find me another one." His eyebrow quirks and his eyes narrow, causing you to take a step back instinctively. "I have no intention of laying a finger on your body, especially considering you're human," he retorts. Offended, your mouth hangs open in disbelief and you take a step towards him.

"I wouldn't let you touch me, even if you begged!" Your words are sharp as he approaches. "Calm yourself, ao bewl ¹, I'll be in the next room over." ( my love )¹ A sudden wave of heat washes over you, causing your vision to blur and your breath to quicken. Ulysses remains unfazed as he steps closer, grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards him, his other hand lifting to touch your chin and check your forehead. "Silly woman, how long have you been out in the rain?"

Ulysses notices your lack of response and tenderly lifts you up from your slouched position against him, carefully placing you back in bed. "The rain in Lomaliue is unlike anything you've experienced in the Upper Realm," he whispers under his breath, his cool hands gently brushing against your forehead and then your neck. You peer at him through blurry eyes, your heart pounding in your chest. "Is this the end for me? Am I dying? I'm dying, right? " Fear grips you as tears stream down your face, and the room starts to spin around you.

The Demon can't contain his amusement and lets out a deep, rich chuckle. "Come now, little human, no need for theatrics. You're not dying. It's simply the unfamiliar weather and atmosphere of the Under Realm that's causing you discomfort. You'll be alright." Sweat clings to your body like a second skin, drenching your hair and clothing, leaving little to the imagination. A wave of intense pain surges through your abdomen, causing you to wince and squeeze your eyes shut. "It hurts, it hurts."

Ulysses sighs and softly caresses your complexion from top to bottom, hovering just slightly over your face. Your eyes slide shut and sleep takes over. He doesn't even startle or rise when Elmira enters the room, eyes worried. "She'll be fine, bring my papers from the office here, cancel the board meeting, and rearrange it a sennight from now." Elmira nods obediently and laces her hands behind her back. "Of course Master." Before she can turn to leave, he he adds, "The Guard, have them hunt down the Helkuma that made its way in. I'll be conducting a border check to identify any lapses in security."

"Yes Master." Elmira leaves the room and shuts the door behind her softly, leaving the two. Ulysses rises from the bed, intending to make his way to the plush velvet couch, but his progress is halted by a gentle tug on his loose tunic. Your small, tender hand clings to him with an intensity that suggests a desperate need for his presence, while the worry lines between your eyebrows deepen. "It seems I've been mated to a clingy human."

For the next coming days, Ulysses spends his time doting on you as you're in and out of sleep, while also doing a lot of the work that had piled up in his absence. Surprisingly, in your drowsy state, you show no fear towards him; in fact, you become quite affectionate and touchy. On the seventh day, your fever finally breaks, and your pretty eyes no longer hold that bleary look of exhaustion and pain; it soothes Ulysses more than he cares to admit. Elmira hands him another stack of reports, her smile tinged with guilt as she notices his exasperated glare. "Just a few more to go, and we'll be done, except for the east wing reconstruction," she says, but stops when he raises one of his hands (from his third arm, the others are busy with paperwork) "Don't remind me."

Ba-Bump. Ba-Bump

The feline demon's ears twitch as your heart rate quickens. "Master, My Lady has awakened," he hums in acknowledgment, placing the two out of the three pens down and rising from the desk he had relocated to the room. "Ask the Chef to prepare a light meal and gather medicine and a sweet treat." Carrying a few crucial documents, he settles onto the plush velvet couch, flipping through them. Elmira nods in understanding and swiftly exits the room, gently closing the door behind her.

"I am aware that you are awake, my dear 'captive'."

He finds your bewildered grunt incredibly amusing, much more than he had anticipated. With a slight chuckle, he resumes his task of signing, paying no attention as you ungracefully slide out of bed and stumble toward the couch farthest from his position. Wrapped in the sheets, you look absolutely adorable, with it trailing behind you as you settle into the comfortable couch. "What time is it? What day?"

"It's been a sennight since you've come down with fever, that makes it Woedenes dæg, and it's noon." He steals a quick glance at his watch, indicating that he's running out of time and you have a feeling that he's about to go. "Which also means I have my meeting soon." And your intuition was spot on.

Ulysses stands up and carelessly tosses the pages onto the table. "Elmira will bring you something to eat. Take a brief stroll in the gardens and enjoy the fresh air. Just remember, not more than 10 minutes. Your body needs time to adjust to this environment."

You give a slight nod, feeling a bit disoriented and not up for a debate, the situation still feeling surreal. A sudden feeling of bashfulness overtakes you, making your cheeks burn. "Have you been here the entire time?" "Yes, the employees here are not accustomed to dealing with humans. You're also mine. My responsibility and I allowed you to become ill, and for that, I am sorry."

Your heart skips a beat and your stomach does a flip, but it comes crashing down when he finishes. "I also didn't want to put them through the pain of your snoring and clinginess." Ulysses finds amusement in the glare you send his way, observing as you settle back into the couch, appearing at ease in his presence. "Aren't you supposed to be somewhere else? Hurry and get out." His eyes soften and a smile quirks his lips, "I'll come to visit you after." You huff and wave him off with a middle finger. "Don't bother!" Your voice trails off weakly as he walks out, shutting the door with a solid thud.

Just as you are lost in your own thoughts, Elmira enters the room carrying a tray of steaming soup. Her face lights up with a warm smile, and her steps exude a contagious energy. "My Lady, I'm overjoyed to see you recovering. Your illness had the entire castle in a frenzy, and the servants have been sending their good wishes." It's puzzling, isn't it? You were just an ordinary person who stumbled upon this grand castle one day. Your interactions were minimal, and you couldn't even recall the names of those you encountered. So why all the fuss?

Elmira seems to read your mind and responds with a gentle smile. "In the sennights you've been here, your presence has brightened this place. The Gardeners feel like they have a purpose, the Chef gets to cook more often and the other maids love to dote on you." The Garden. The mere thought of dining in the garden brings a smile to your face as you sit up from your previously huddled position. "Elmira, I would like to eat in the garden."

The walk to the Gardens (a place you had never been to) was quick and pleasant, with the suns shining brightly at noon. The knights on patrol greeted you warmly and in a slightly cute and chaotic manner. Stepping outside, you slipped off your new flats, lifted your dress, and ran into the grassy plains with a soft smile and squinted eyes, the sun's rays shining in your eyes and warming your skin. A gentle sigh of contentment escaped your lips as you wiggled your bare feet in the grass of the garden. With a slight breeze in the air, Elmira draped a shawl over your shoulders before heading back to the table to prepare your breakfast.

"Elmira, why is it that I've never been here before?" you inquire, your voice gentle as you lower yourself, your gown spreading over the earth and your hand encircling your knees. The scent of the air is pure and invigorating, a stark contrast to the environment you're used to at home. Your fingers trace the outline of a dandelion-like flower, smoothing over its bright yellow stem before picking it. Raising it to your face, you inspect the pink fluff that surrounds it. The clinking of dishes is the only sound until she interrupts.

"This is the Master's private garden, in order to come here you would need approval. While you were recovering, I told him that you enjoyed being outside and in Nature, and he gave you access to this Garden." Elmira answers, occupied with the dolly that holds the tea and soup that had been prepared prior. As you listen to her words, a soft smile graces your lips, and your heart flutters with excitement. You take in a deep breath and let out a puff, air releasing from your lungs and onto the flower. The pappus soars through the wind, taking flight and drifting further and further away from you. The garden mesmerizes you with its meticulous upkeep, vibrant hues, and the intoxicating fragrance of the dew-kissed plants. Every plant thrives, leaving you thoroughly delighted.

You now longed for a book to read, so you could lose yourself within the garden and experience something you had yet to want until now. But, after realizing that perhaps all the books were in the language of this new world, you would have to ask Elmira or Ulysses to get you something. Ah, you said it so easily, as if staying here was a forever thing, but perhaps it was. Ulysses had hit the nail on the head about your old life - no caring family, a job ready to let you go, and no one waiting for you back home. You weren't living, just surviving miserably. With a soft groan, you rose from your crouched position, hands moving up from your knees as you straightened. Your eyes roamed and landed on a beautiful glass table that Elmira was setting the dishes onto. It was clear, almost see-through. White placeholders were facing the chairs that came with the table. "It's so beautiful here." Your voice barely above a whisper, your fingers glide along the smooth glass surface, the set looking as if water had stilled. It could've been mistaken for ice if the warmth from the present sun didn't beam onto everything in its path. You hesitate, stealing glances at the elegant table, unsure if you should dare to sit. The opulence of the furniture makes you question if you might tarnish it. "Elmira, is it alright for me to sit here? It looks expensive." The cat demon nods absentmindedly, focused on arranging the items. "Certainly, the furniture is meticulously cleaned every day." "Oh," you respond, your brows furrowing. Your gaze swiftly shifts to your hand, a delighted smile spreading across your face as you notice something unexpected. "What is this?" you whisper softly, bringing your hand closer to examine it.

Perched on the back of your hand is a mesmerizing bug, its vibrant blue hue adorned with delicate white spots. At first glance, you might mistake it for a ladybug, if not for its peculiar shading and the menacing stinger at the end of its abdomen. Elmira's expression changes as you inquire about the bug, her face turning pale. With a sense of urgency, she urges you. "My Lady, quickly blow it off your hand!" You look up and away from the bug and glance toward her, panicking slightly at her tone. "What? Why? What's wrong–." Before you can comprehend her warning, a scorching sensation surges through your veins, engulfing your body in unbearable pain. As you glance back at your hand, you discover that the bug's stinger is now embedded in your skin, while the insect itself has vanished amidst your frantic state.

In an instant, you're sprawled on the ground, and Elmira rushes over, tenderly cupping your face in her palms. It's hard not to ponder why a mundane day is an elusive dream in this peculiar world, where nothing ever seems to be ordinary.

"—The Hundyai Region has become overrun with–."

The atmosphere in the meeting room instantly turns heavy as a sudden knock reverberates through the door. All eyes turn towards the interruption, their curiosity piqued. It is a rare occurrence to interrupt a meeting with the fearsome Demon Lord Ulysses, it had never been done before, or well, successfully done. Before he can even speak, Elmira enters the room with a sense of urgency, her steps quick and purposeful. Bending down to whisper into his ear, she imparts crucial information to their Lord, causing a ripple of tension to spread across the room. The council members watch intently as Ulysses' eyes narrow and his jaw tightens in response. With a stiff nod, he acknowledges Elmira's message, prompting her to exit the room gracefully. Bidding a respectful farewell to the men at the table, she disappears as silently as she had arrived.

Standing up from his spot at the head of the table, Ulysses straightens his cuff links. "Let's postpone the meeting for now. Feel free to wait in the lounge with some refreshments." There are no protests, no irritation, just unwavering loyalty. "Understood, my Lord." She can't seem to stay out of trouble.

"How long ago was it?"

Elmira anxiously clasps her hands together as she hurries alongside Ulysses, makes his way to his bed in a few long strides."It couldn't have been more than five minutes. I rushed to your side as soon as I could. Ghallahan brought her back here," she explains. Ulysses tenderly cups your chin in his large hand, observing as your eyes glaze over and your lips part to take a deep breath upon his touch. Your skin feels warm and moist with a thin layer of perspiration, causing him to curse himself for his lack of attentiveness. "Bring me something to alleviate the pain and swelling within 10 minutes. Clear out the staff near my room and instead attend to our guests. If I need anything, I'll call for you." Elmira, though reluctant, nods and shuffles out of the room. "What's happening to me?" Ulysses, captivated by the alluring and breathy tone of your voice, shifts his attention back to you. He nonchalantly rolls up his sleeves and unbuttons his shirt ever so slightly. "While in the Garden you were stung by a Fern. Their venom can intensify one's libido to a dangerous extent if not treated correctly. It can also lead to swelling in the limbs and even the brain, depending on the specific type of Fern."

In the midst of your poisoned state, your eyes widen with a mixture of fear and disbelief. Your thighs involuntarily clench together as your heart beats erratically in your chest. The overwhelming realization that death may be imminent engulfs you, and you find yourself uttering desperate words, "Oh God, I'm going to die, I don't want to die." However, amidst the chaos, a strange sensation begins to stir within you. Your nipples harden beneath the fabric of your dress, the sensation bordering on painful. Ulysses gently brushes his hand against your, puffy lips sending a jolt of electricity through your body. His touch trails down the side of your neck, leaving a trail of anticipation in its wake. "For it to stop, I need to pleasure you." Your body tenses at the information and your cheeks flush. "I'll just do it myself. Why can't I do it myself?"

"It doesn't work that way, little dove."

The thought of him touching you so intimately sends tingles of white-hot pleasure down your tummy. Another wave of heat hits and beneath your dress your wet, sticky thighs rub together, desperate for a touch of any kind. You can feel your clit swell and ache as your blood rushes to it. Your panties are damp with your arousal. As you lock eyes with him, his passive yet sharp features, and his deep, alluring red eyes, you sense a hunger that sets him apart from the rest. The sinewy muscles of his arms ripple, captivating your attention, and you boldly cup your breast within your small hands, embracing your own provocative nature. It becomes clear that the mere thought of his touch has the power to bring you to the brink of climax.

You can't help but feel a little shy, but there's no denying the effect he has on you. The way his voice rumbles sends shivers down your spine. His deep, sultry tone stirs something deep inside you. "Dove, talk to me." His voice is almost pleading, and you comply with a quick nod, gasping as his lips press against yours, dominating and all-consuming. His tongue dances over your lower lip, relishing the addictive taste of your mouth. His teeth sink in, causing a pleasurable moan to escape into his mouth, your fingers desperately clinging to him; as his fingers trail calmly down your waistline and tickle your belly button. Slowly, they make their way back up to the neckline of your dress, effortlessly tearing it off, and exposing your breasts to the cold air, causing goosebumps to rise. Though his warm mouth chases them away.

Your thighs tighten around his waist, feeling the hot, pulsating bulge in his pants pressing against your stomach. The most sultry, erotic moan he's ever heard pierces his ears and the deep, primal groan that he lets out makes you whimper. He lifts his head to gaze into your eyes, seeing the raw desire and intense need reflected at him.

His fingers delve into your hips, reassuring and light as he pulls you closer to him, his mouth continuing a slow, tantalizing assault on your nipples. Each time his teeth nip you, you mewl wantonly and arch into him, hips grinding against him. Tears trickle down your cheeks at the discomfort between your thighs, a fire that slowly starts to eat you alive.

Ulysses' hand caresses your breast, thumb teasing your wet nipple. And you let out the most sinful, obscene moan he's ever heard; and you attempt to stifle it with your hand. " It's only me and you here, dove " He states, kissing down the valley of your breast, eyes flitting upwards to gaze at your tortured face. His breath leaves his lungs in a shocked rush, and a surge of emotions engulfs him when his eyes find yours, they're wet with tears and you down at him through thick lashes, eyes so trusting and yet so scared.

"In this life and the next, you possess the power to consume me entirely." His voice, a mere whisper, and his hands cupping the soft weight of your breast. He bends his head, his teeth scraping over your left nipple. His other arms work on taking off the top half of his clothing, carelessly ripping them away. You sob out, the sound unlike anything he's heard, it makes his cock strain against his pants. Once again, he claims your breast, his mouth unyielding. Suckling vigorously, his tongue dancing across your nipple, while his fingers tease and caress the other. Your cries echo, as you entangle your fingers in his tousled locks.

As he lifts his head from devouring you, his gaze fixates on the vibrant hues that adorn your bosom, and you gasp at the color of his eyes. He knows you see the dark red of his eyes, a lust-filled predator, and yet you don't seem to care one bit. Instead, you yearn for him, your arms entwining around his neck to meet him in a kiss. Ulysses revels in the sensation of your body melding seamlessly with his, surrendering to his dominance as he ravishes your mouth with a fervent hunger, relishing the taste of your fervor. Your mouth, an addictive nectar, surpasses any pleasure he has ever savored in his two millennia of existence.

As your perky nipples graze against the chiseled contours of his muscular chest, a shiver of pleasure courses through your body, leaving you breathless and emitting a delicate whimper. He hungrily devours your sounds, his lips relentlessly claiming yours, until your once tender lips become swollen, evidence of his insatiable desire.

“More," You plead softly. "I need more." You can't help but squirm against him, hips bucking. Hungry. Needy. Demanding. The poison inside you ignites a fiery hunger, and only he can quench it. All you desire is him. His touch, his kiss, rough and demanding. You yearn for the numbness that envelops you when he tilts your head back, dominating your mouth repeatedly. Your cries are filled with urgency, and you don't care if you have to beg him to get what you want. What you needed.

"I can feel the heat of your cunt through my pants, dove," He whispers softly, and to you? He murmurs gently to you. He exudes pure, sinful allure. Temptation. Forbidden and devilish. The brush of his teeth on your neck causes your eyes to close and your lips to part. "I bet your panties are drenched, aren't they?" The question has another wave of slick dripping from your pussy.

He doesn't bother waiting for your response; instead, he plants a series of kisses from your lips to your neck, and then down to your breasts. Every gentle bite or caress sends a surge of heat directly to your pussy. The heat is intense, scorching, pulsating between your thighs, and you can't help but squirm. Your pussy twitches, clenches, and weeps with hunger.

"I want to see for myself," He states, nipping under your breast and then down along your ribs. "I need the taste of you on my tongue, my mate." His sensual words make you flush red, but sends your stomach clenching in anticipation, it goes straight to your core. You weren't certain you could survive. Certainly if he didn't speed up his teasing you wouldn't, you truly didn't want your brain to swell and explode.

His stalling mouth doesn't stay very long but continues to journey down your belly, his tongue dipping into your navel. Gracefully, he slides off the bed and kneels in front of you, urging you to the edge and pushing your thighs apart. "Rest your feet on my shoulders," he commands, his voice thick and velvety. Filled with dark promise. A shiver runs down your spine at the sound and another pulse of hunger shudders through you. There's no thought in your mind that think to defy the edge in his tone. Without hesitation, you comply, soft feet settling over his broad shoulders.

You would do anything for him at this moment. You had never in your 20+ years of living ever felt so desperate or needy. The feeling was so strange but, so intense, your body shook with it. Your heart raced, blood pounding in your ears and flushing your cheeks. Ulysses' face bore a dark, erotic lewdness. Intense. Savage even. Feral and untamed, it stirred something deep within you, something you didn't even realize was there. You hungered for him so much that you could feel the warm wetness of your arousal smearing your thighs and gathering between your folds in anticipation.

A soft whimper escaped your lips as you gripped his locs of hair, your breathing ragged. You were completely bare to him and you should have been embarrassed to have a demon you just met buried between your thighs, but instead, you were all the more desperate for him to do something—anything.

"So wet. So sweet." His gaze fixates on the luscious, soft curls on your mound, damp with heat, his eyes hooded and hungry. With a low, primal growl, he exhales a cool breath directly onto your feverish folds, and you sob, oversensitive and gripping his horns to steady yourself. "You belong to me," he declares. You don't even have time to process his words because he lowers his head to the feast between your shaking thighs. Your cry is hoarse. Broken. Mewling. He doesn't just give a tentative lick. Ulysses takes what he wants like a starved beast. He consumes your mind, body, and soul with a ravenous appetite.

He consumes you. His tongue delving deep to extract the musky, sweet taste of you. He nibbles, sucks. He dominates you with just his mouth and nothing more. Powerless to do anything but hold on, you grasp his horns, his firm hold on your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide for his plundering mouth. It was beautiful. So good. Better than anything you could have imagined. Your mind refuses to function, focusing on the sheer pleasure escalating like a tsunami. The sensations are indecent, and arousing, the intensity escalating the insatiable desire within her higher and higher.

He releases a fierce hunger within you, his tongue flicking, diving deep repeatedly, caressing and teasing. His deep snarls only added to the sensations battering through you. The flames roar back with a vengeance, tantalizing your nerves and scorching through your veins, a blaze of passion across your stomach and down your legs, along your spine, and deep inside your sopping pussy. You were so close, the tension coiling so tightly you cry out with need as his mouth envelops your hypersensitive bundle of nerves, he licks just enough to overwhelm you with sensations, but not enough to release you. "Ulysses," You whimper his name in a desperate plea. Begging. Longing. Knowing he would fulfill your desires in his own time. Your body was his. He had claimed it and he was making sure you were aware of that. "Please," You whisper, fingers now clutching his black tresses.

He looks up at you and you feel the added intensity of his twinkling eyes. Your hips involuntarily thrust against him, craving the tantalizing sensations that tease you just beyond your grasp. His mouth covers your sensitive clit once again, his tongue flicking, licking, pressing with broad, flat strokes and caresses, driving you higher than you thought possible, until you scream your release. The rapid, relentless rhythm pushes you beyond your limits, causing you to surrender to the overwhelming release that consumes you. Overwhelmed by ecstasy, you bury his face deeper into your pulsating core, grinding against his tongue as your thighs tremble with desire. "Ulysses." You sob his name like a prayer. He tenderly traces the inside of your thigh, soothing your senses with his gentle touch. Slowly, your eyes flutter shut, your racing heartbeat gradually returning to its steady rhythm. Exhaustion washes over you, and the sweet embrace of sleep claims you.

With a soft knock on the door, the demon eases you back into bed, pulling the duvet over your body. Elmira glides into the room, placing the requested items on the table. "Escort the guest back to the meeting room, we'll resume the conference."

As you wake up from your poisoning-induced slumber, the darkness of night surrounds you, the castle eerily quiet except for the gentle sound of raindrops. Sitting up in bed, you slowly rub the sleep from your eyes, allowing the events of the day to slowly return to your mind. "Oh God." The events from earlier today rush back to you in vivid detail. You cover your mouth with your hand, shaking your head in disbelief. It must have been a dream, an incredibly lifelike, tantalizing dream. But the dampness between your thighs and your labia tells a different story. "I must have been dreaming."

"Of what?" The deep voice that you were starting to get used to startles you. Ulysses closes the door behind him, striding over to his desk. "I came to check on you after what happened earlier," His muscles tense and a surge of desire flickers in his eyes. Oh, and you were naked beneath the sheets. "So, I wasn't dreaming?" Ulysses chuckles humorlessly. "With the taste of your pussy still on my tongue, I don't think so." You try and ignore his lewd words, cheeks heating, instead you question him. "Earlier, when, yeah— you called me your mate, are we talking like, Australian mate? Pirate mate? Ahoy. What did you mean by it?"

"As in soulmate, predestined. You belong to me as I belong to you." His voice is gravelly and tinged with weariness, and you almost invite him into bed with you. "How? And how do you find me? Why me?" "Soulmates for Demons are rare, not many have them and they usually outlive them. Stumbling upon you was a fluke, but one I wouldn't change." Ulysses studies your reaction with a bated breath, searching and wondering. "I discovered you through your heartbeat. Your emotions. I could sense them all. Your fear, your relief, your longing."

"As simple as that, I got attached. Part of me wanted to leave you there, to never lay eyes on you again. However, your emotions anchored me. The solace you found in the echo of my voice and the sense of security you experienced, impelled me to protect you." Ulysses saunters closer, pausing to rest against the bed frame. "Your clumsiness, magnet to trouble, love of nature, and politeness to the staff, only made you more irresistible."

Your heart pounds relentlessly in your chest, a rhythmic thump that resonates with the intensity of a confession. "Whether you desire to depart from this place is inconsequential, for I have no intentions of releasing you," Is it sinful that you find yourself utterly aroused? The way his smoldering eyes possessively roam over your figure sends a tantalizing shiver down your spine. His eyebrow quirks in a provocative gesture, and his eyes sparkle with a magnetic allure.

You felt your cheeks flush and your heart pound. He knew exactly how to turn you on. It was wrong, but it was also thrilling. The way he gazed at you made your pussy drool. Your clit throbbed with excitement. A part of you blamed it on the poison still gliding through your veins. "I don't see a reason to go anywhere," you murmur, relaxing your grip on the sheet. Ulysses' jaw tightens as he advances, his lips crashing onto yours forcefully, swallowing your moan before breaking away.

"I'll put your mouth to use little human."

The thought of his throbbing cock sliding deep into your throat sends delightful shivers down your spine and the way his gaze darkens lets you know that he can also feel what you think as well. With a hint of shyness, you cautiously approach him, allowing the sheet to gracefully slip from your body, settling on your knees right before him. Craning your neck to look up at him, captivated by his towering presence. At his staggering height, you had no problem being face-to-face with his bulge. Your lips form a sultry pout as he gently cradles your face in his hands, while his other two hands firmly grip your hair, a hold that is both biting and intoxicating, leaving your pussy dripping.

A primal hunger consumes you. He was an irresistible temptation, and you had already indulged in a sinful taste of him, otherworldly and enigmatic. You yearned for more. "Put your hands on my thighs," He says softly, his gaze burning into yours. You inhale deeply, your head shaking in disbelief, your eyes sparkling with desire. "I've never done this before."

"I know." Those two words swirl inside you. Makes you shiver. With his remaining hand, he deftly undoes his pants, revealing his cock.

As you inhale deeply, your throat tightens and your eyes feast upon him. His jet-black hair is elegantly swept away from his captivating face. With broad shoulders and narrow hips, he possesses a striking V-shaped silhouette. His thighs are thick, lean and firm, but your gaze is centered on his pulsing, jerking cock. He's bigger than you imagined a man would be— well a demon. He's long and thick, perfectly matching his purple-grey skin tone, but there is an otherworldly quality to it that leaves you craving more. Intricate ridges and pulsating veins adorn its length.

"Keep looking at me, dove. I need to see you, to make certain you want this."

Your gaze swiftly ascended, locked in a passionate connection, for in that very moment, you were ready to surrender the world to him. He envelops his fingers around the base of his cock, guiding it towards your awaiting mouth, an act so tantalizingly arousing, it surpasses any previous encounters. (Not that you've had many, but…) Ulysses presses the velvety head against your lips, and the sensation of his precum moistening them ignites a pulsating surge of pleasure within your core. Driven by instinct, you part your lips and sensually lick the glistening droplets, taking the offering and savoring his taste.

His groan is deep as the flat of your tongue dances over his sensitive tip. He retreats momentarily, causing you to whimper in protest, which is quickly silenced as he abruptly sinks into your mouth, giving you what you want. He moves unhurriedly, each stroke taking him deeper until he's nearly at the back of your throat, careful of you. But you can feel the way his body responds as you suckle hard. It's orgasmic, the violent way his muscles contract from the burning pleasure. His gaze, dark and intense, follows every movement of his cock as it slides in and out of your mouth; tip and shaft sloppy now, dripping with saliva.

You revel in the sensation of his intense gaze watching your pillowy lips enveloping his cock, and this feeling alone from you has his cock swollen and engorged, so much so that your jaw aches. You sensually trace circles around the tip before lavishly slurping the underside of his shaft. Your eyes lock with his as he spasmodically twitches within your mouth.

"Enough." An order, his voice rough. He can't help himself. He had to have you. The plea in your eyes, the pure fire burning there, swallowing him whole, is too difficult to oppose. With one final thrust, he plunges deep into your throat, holding you there until your eyes well up with tears, before sliding his cock from your mouth.

Ulysses follows you down onto the bed, your arms circling his neck. Your thighs part, thighs glistening and pussy glittering in the soft, dull glow of the moons. And oh, he seizes the opportunity, lodging the wide head of his cock into that fiery haven. A growl rumbles low in his chest as your pussy clenches, squeezing around the tip of his cock.

Your cunt felt like molten lava engulfing him, so intense that he feels he might explode. Ulysses slowly applies pressure, short bursts that push through your resistance. It's scorching. So perfect. Too tight. Strangling him in a vice grip. The sensation is sheer bliss, your body stretching and igniting, reluctantly surrendering to his invasion.

Ulysses halts as he knocks dully on your thin, virgin wall and holds himself still, jaw ticking and hands gripping the bed frame, causing it to splinter. To give your body the time it needed to adjust to his incursion. He wasn't nearly in deep enough. The effort to remain still is almost unbearable. "Dove, look at me." he pleads. He had to see your eyes. Your lashes flutter and then lift. His stomach muscles contract malevolently. His body shudders and his cock thickens, and throbs, desperate for more.

You looked absolutely breathtaking.

"I need more," You whisper. "Please, hurry. Please. I'm burning up. I need . . ."

"I know what you need." Three of his arms embraces your hips, lifting you effortlessly. In an instant, your legs coil around him, ankles clasping at his waist, and fingers entwining at the back of his neck, eyes pleading. Ulysses takes a deep breath, for the sight of you is overwhelming.

He thrusts forward, with unrelenting intensity. Breaking through your innocence and forcefully entering your tightness, the scalding fire seizing him, and your tight pussy has no choice but to accept all of him.

You cry out at the bite of pain, but he feels you surround his cock tightly, tugging him deeper until he's lodged all the way, kissing your cervix. Your tight muscles contract around him, gripping and pulsating. Your hips buck. A small whimper of need slips from your throat. The need to fuck hard and deep into you repeatedly nearly sends him over the edge. "Are you ready? Breathe for me, dove." Your eyes meet his. Wild. So untamed, his breath catches in his throat. He holds you still while you try your hardest to grind against him, desperate to move.

"Please, fuck me." Your voice sends him over the edge. He moves then, drawing back and then plunging deep into your drooling cunt. Your tightness, like scorching silk, grip his cock. He feels the last of his control snap and he begins to drill into you. It's rough, too rough for your innocence, but he can't help himself. The pleasure consumes him, almost bordering on pain in its intensity.

He can feel you rising toward your orgasm. Surging toward it. He grasps your hips firmly, holding you, for a moment, savoring your tight, dripping cunt, and then he surges into you over and over with hard, deep strokes. Ulysses feels his balls tighten at the sudden, overwhelming convulsion of your pussy. The intense fluttering around him. Your moans fill his ears—his very being. Pleasure overwhelms him.

Each hard jerk of his thick, creamy cum spilling into you is a wave of pleasure. He raises his head and looks down at you, at the helpless, cute, bewildered pleasure on your face. Your lashes flutter and before you can open your eyes all the way, Ulysses slants his mouth across yours. Gently. Completely at odds with his roughness earlier. And you respond softly. Tiredly.

"Sleep, we have all of eternity."

connected with this post!

[ryukatters]

it's your fault for loving me — y. okkotsu ⁺˚⋆｡°✩

⟡ pairing: yuuta okkotsu x fem!reader

⟡ cw: /DARK CONTENT, /yandere! yuuta, /dubcon, /NONCON, ex-bf!yuuta, stalking, he breaks into your apartment, he /manhandles you (he’s strong), /implied babytrapping, /possessiveness, MINORS DNI

⟡ wc: 2.9k (someone sedate me)

⟡ song inspo: language by brent faiyaz

⟡ summary: Your ex boyfriend breaks into your apartment. What do you mean he needs to leave? He’s staying right here.

The slow, muffled drag of your feet ricochet off the hallway walls as you trudge along to your apartment. You fumble with your keys for a little bit, but find no resistance as you insert it into the slot. 

“Huh, that’s odd…I could’ve sworn I locked it.”

You chalk it up to exhaustion. You're only practically ever home to sleep due to the way you've been throwing yourself onto mission after mission. Even now, sleep is a luxury you can barely afford. You kick off your shoes lazily, not bothering putting them in their rightful place on the shoe rack. 

Maybe before, you would have cared more about keeping the house tidy. Or maybe before, your loving boyfriend would pamper and coddle you the minute you opened the front door, so you never had to worry about the little details like putting your shoes in the right place.

You were exhausted. 

You wanted nothing more than to wash up and plop down onto your soft, soft bed. You don’t even make it to your bedroom door before you pause, anxiety prickling your nerves. 

You sense him before you see him. Yuuta’s cursed energy has always had a tendency to seep out whenever he was around you. Whether it’s a testament to how he’s able to fully relax in your presence or a display of raw power, you’re not sure. 

"You're home," a certain black-haired sorcerer chirps. "How was your mission?"

In the past, simply hearing Yuuta’s voice would be enough to melt away the pent up stress from a hard day of exorcizing curses. It’d soothe your aching muscles and tired soul as you let yourself be enveloped by the weight of his affection. But right now, it did everything except that. 

The shiver of excitement that used to run down your spine is replaced by trepidation caused by the only person who used to be able to comfort you. 

You know better than to ask how he knew you were on a mission, much less ask how he managed to break into your apartment. It seems he's been in here for a while, with the way he seems to have made himself at home on your bed, much like the way he used to before. 

"Why are you here?"

The question makes him sit up. 

“Because I missed you. Is that so bad?”

You want to laugh. The whole situation is all sorts of fucked up, and the two of you are talking about it the same way one would the weather.

“Yuuta, we broke up 2 months ago,” you press, vexation lacing your words. You could never imagine yourself using that tone on him. Yuuta’s always been so meticulous in loving you, in making sure you were happy.  He’s never given you a reason to be upset with him. But that was then, and this was now. 

You could say whatever you wanted to say. You were tired and definitely not in the mood to deal with a supposed burglar that happens to be in the form of your ex-boyfriend.

“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” he says simply.

“You walked out on me!”

“Because I thought you needed some space. And now I’m back. But I never said we were breaking up.” 

Space was an extremely generous term for what Yuuta gave you. If you could consider watching your every move from a distance, keeping tabs on who you talk to, and making sure you stay out of trouble secretly, “space.” He would never let you know that though. It’s too much, too soon.

He couldn't help it, not when his precious baby could get hurt. He’d never forgive himself if that happened.

“Come and sit, my love. You look so tired.” He pats the space next to him. You will your heart not to flutter at the familiar nickname. 

Your body moves before your brain can catch up. It’s almost like listening to him was muscle memory. You pause in your step, cross your arms, and glare at him. 

“Leave, Yuuta. I don’t want to see you.” The words rise from the very depths of your soul and spill out of your mouth like bile, burning and spiteful. It hurts to speak to him like this, even after he’d abandoned you with no hopes of return. 

“Sit, love.” A little more demanding this time. “I’m not repeating myself again.” 

The tension in the air is palpable, so thick you can cut it with a knife.

You take a seat. Yuuta doesn’t miss a beat before he has his hands on you. 

“Missed you,” his hand reaches out to cup your jaw, thumb rubbing against the plushness of your cheek. 

You’ve always been so soft, it’s one of the things Yuuta loves the most about you. 

You flinch. Blame it on the adrenaline coursing through your body like wildfire. Your fight or flight response is shot. Yuuta’s touch seems to rewrite everything that’s been hardwired into your brain. 

He presses a chaste kiss to your temple, before moving down to kiss the tip of your nose, and both of your cheeks. Each press of his lips leaves feels like it’s being seared into your flesh, a metaphorical branding iron of sorts— to show that you’re Yuuta’s and Yuuta’s only. 

Your mind goes blank when he sucks a kiss into the side of your neck, whimpering pathetically as he grazes his teeth along the sensitive skin. 

“We can’t do this,” you assert, but the words get stuck in your throat, so it comes out more as a whiny sigh. Your body seems to have a tendency to betray you when it comes to him.

“But we can,” Yuuta coos, pushing you down until your back is flat against the mattress. He takes both of your hands in his, lifting them up until they’re above your head, effectively pinning you in place. “We’re doing it right now, aren’t we?” 

Yuuta can appear pretty unassuming to outsiders. He’s quiet, reserved, almost meek. If one were to take a closer look, however, they’d realize that beneath that unostentatious front was a more commanding aura, one that forces you to submit to his whims with his sweet tongue and sensuous touches. Perfectly calculated, perfectly executed. 

"I fucking hate you,” you spit, thrashing against his hold, but to no avail. 

"No you don't,” Yuuta shuts you down with conviction. Like it’s the absolute truth— the kind that can’t be twisted or broken. It almost feels like he’s chastising you for thinking otherwise. “Take that back right now.”

To be honest, hearing those words stung more than any physical blow you could have ever landed on him. Has he not shown you enough love? Or have you already forgotten? 

Isn’t what you have pure love? 

A hand wraps around your neck, lithe fingers inching up before they grip your jaw, forcing you to look at him.  “I said,” blunt fingernails digging into your skin, “take it back.”

You sputter out an apology with teary eyes, an odd mix of humiliation and regret seeping into your bones, stomach swirling with shame and to your horror, a tinge of anticipation. 

It’s pathetic, really, how easily you give in. 

“Now give me a kiss, sweetheart.” Yuuta bridges the gap between the two of you. He presses his already throbbing bulge against your clothed pussy, moaning into your mouth appreciatively.

You feel so dizzy you think you might explode. 

Yuuta makes quick work of the buttons on your uniform, releasing your wrists so he can throw the offending garment and all your underthings beneath it to some random corner of the room. 

Calloused hands roam your body, squeezing and groping, as if to map out the cartography of your flesh, committing each peak and valley to memory. He watches in fascination how your skin bristles with goosebumps in the wake of his touch. 

He ignores your pleading cries and attempts to push him off. Yuuta is being driven by pure instinct alone. That sick, twisted voice in his head that he’s always tried to suppress whispers. It goads him on to take what he wants, to make sure you remember that you’re his, and his alone. 

He knows that you haven’t been seeing anyone. You were always so loyal, even when you were upset with him. Anyone who did try was taken care of the minute they left your sight. 

It’s been far too long since he’s had you. His desire fills him with a sort of quiet rage, one that metamorphoses into something darker, more sinister and morose the longer he goes without you. Almost like a curse that’s gone far too long without feeding. 

Yuuta Okkotsu loves you to the point of madness.

He thinks he might literally implode in on himself any second longer without you.

It’s almost laughable how different the two of you are. An ethereal beauty too good for this world, yet here you were in between the legs of a cursed man with too much love than he knows what to do with. 

“Yuuta, please,” you cry out. You flail your legs in an attempt to kick Yuuta off. He catches both with ease, throwing them over his shoulder to slide your bottoms off, leaving you completely bare. 

He can’t suppress the groan that tumbles past his lips. You’re even more beautiful than he remembers. 

You’re dewy eyed and gasping, nails clawing at his forearms and beating at his chest in a last ditch effort to stand your ground. Nothing can deter him. 

Yuuta could easily heal himself if he wanted to. But the angry red welts and blossoming hues of purple on his pale skin are a badge of honor of the utmost prestige. It’s undeniable proof that you’re real, that his love for you isn’t just a fragment of his imagination, and that none of this was just some pipe dream. He could take a little pain if that meant you got to be his. 

He’s always been yours without any reservations. 

“You can cry if you want, if it helps,” he says genuinely, but the gleam in his eyes shifts into something predatory. “But you should know you’re really fucking wet.” As if to prove a point, he slowly fucks his middle finger into your weeping hole, then his index, then his ring. They curl up to rub against that spongy spot just the way you like. 

You let out a sharp gasp, spine arching off the mattress. 

You tried to ignore him—detach yourself from the whole situation, let him get his fill, and be done with this whole ordeal. But it’s Yuuta— the man has a grasp on both the corporal and spiritual parts of you that you can’t bring yourself to understand. It seems like he knows you better than you know yourself sometimes. And right now, he’s managed to make a home in all five of your senses. There’s no escape. He's made sure of that. 

He pulls out his fingers with a lewd squelch. A clear sheen of liquid coats every digit, stringy as he parts them to show you. He smiles knowingly.

“You keep fighting me, but it turns out you want it after all, sweetheart.” 

Your cheeks burn in humiliation. Whether it’s from the situation at hand or the truth behind his words, you’re not too sure. 

“Don’t you know?” Yuuta rasps, fingers going back to work their way inside you rhythmically, bringing you closer and closer to the precipice, paying special attention to how you try to mask how your face contorts in pleasure. 

He presses his forehead against yours, willing you to look at him wordlessly. “I know what’s best for you. I know what you want. And right now, this little pussy wants to be fucked. Isn’t that right, my love?” 

He’s met with a breathless moan. You’re so close. Tears threaten to fall as your chest heaves in exertion, trying not to teeter off the edge too soon. 

You look so pathetic it’s insane. Yuuta swears he can feel his mouth water in anticipation for what’s bound to come next. He thrusts his fingers with calculating speed and precision, the heel of his palm slapping against your neglected clit just right. 

He leans down right when you cum, lips catching yours as you moan into his mouth. Satisfaction swells in his chest as your slick drips down his wrist. 

“You’re ready.” 

Yuuta unbuttons his pants, pulling it down just enough for his cock to spring free, tip slapping his abdomen as it leaks with precum. He fists it, jerking his hand up and down his length. He slaps it against your clit once, twice, and a third time before he slips it inside your weeping hole. 

Your walls spasm around his cock to accommodate his sheer size and girth, struggling a bit more than usual. You feel so full. It’s been far too long since he’s fucked you. You claw at his lower abdomen, trying to make space between the two of you. It’s all too much, all at once. Yuuta won’t have it. He slips his hands under your sweaty thighs, pinning your ankles on either side of your head, effectively folding you in half. You cry out at the stretch.

“Always take me so well, angel.” 

He sets a steady pace, dragging his cock in, pulling out, and then back in with an absurd amount of force. The sound of skin on skin ricochets against your bedroom walls like a sort of cacophonous symphony. You don’t get the luxury of the sweet, slow thrusts he usually blesses you with, while he coos about how good you are for him. 

“Where’s all that attitude from earlier? Am I making you feel that good?” 

You glower, refusing to acknowledge the fact that your body betrays your mind— that Yuuta’s bringing you closer and closer to nirvana the further he drags you down into hell. 

He slides his hand down your tummy, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts.

“Yuuta—!” You clench around his length, hurtling towards your second orgasm quickly. 

“You’re so greedy. Cumming again already?” 

He’s met with silence. He’ll forgive your transgressions this time around. He’ll just have to teach you how to be his good girl again. 

A particularly rough thrust has you choking back a moan.

“Thought so. Cum for me, sweetheart.”

Your peak hits you like a crashing wave. Your body tenses, leaving you gasping for air as you clench around Yuuta’s cock. You cry out deliriously, falling apart as Yuuta continues to pound into you. It’s too much, but you can’t pull away even if you tried. You’re stuck.

“I’m the only one that can make you feel this way, understand?” He grits his teeth, staving off his release just a little longer. He fucks you through your orgasm thoroughly as he chases his own. 

He presses all of his body weight on top of you, your legs on either side of his head as he folds you into a mating press. He groans at the change in position, allowing him to fuck into you even deeper. 

Realization cuts through your cloudy judgment like a sword. 

“Yuuta— Yuuta, please. Pull out–!” 

Your pleas fall on deaf ears. He’s rambling now, intoxicated by all you have to offer, yet you’re the one paying the price. The effects of overstimulation are taking over now, your body twitching involuntarily with each thrust. 

“I’m not leaving you, ever. It’s just you and me.” 

You shake your head in objection, mind too hazy to voice out any resistance. Tears well up, threatening to spill from your lash line. 

Yuuta nods with a grin, canines glinting, just like a predator that’s caught its prey. “It’s true, sweetheart. I’ll make sure of it. Say I’m it for you. That I’m the only one.” 

“Say it.” 

“You’re it for me, Yu. The only one.” You babble, tears streaming freely now. 

You feel the moment he reaches his plateau— the way his dick twitches inside of you right before your walls are being painted white with splashes of Yuuta’s hot cum. 

Your fate’s been sealed. 

He fucks into you a few more times, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he rides out his orgasm. A white ring wraps around the base of his cock, the copious amounts of seed he’s poured into you threatening to leak out. 

Yuuta doesn’t bother pulling out. In a quick show of dexterity and freak strength, he manages to flip the both of you so that your positions are switched, with you lying on top of Yuuta’s chest. The steady beat of his heart fills your mind. 

Your entire body is on fire. You feel numb. You let yourself be carried away by the prospect of sleep, hoping that you’ll wake up to find that this was all just some wild fragment of your imagination.  

He presses a hand against your head, like he was afraid you’d pull away and ruin whatever fantasy he’s deluded himself into believing. 

The simple truth is– Yuuta Okkotsu loves you. And he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that no one else gets in the way of that. 

He runs his hand up and down your bare back lovingly, admiring your spent form. You’ve always been so soft. So pliant, so willing to give in to his desires. 

It’s the thing that Yuuta loves most about you. 

a/n: i had to reupload bc this hellsite sucks. hopefully this shows up in the tags now

tagging @princess-okkotsu again hehe

[selfloverrrrrr]

Witch!Reader x Demon!Satoru. He promises to fulfill her wish in exchange for something. She wants to be seen as a human being instead of a monster, the only thing she really wants is to be loved, and unfortunately he knows that. He fulfills her wish, but in return he imprisons her in his castle and promises to give her all the love and care she deserves (but in a very dark way).

The Ritual~

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physical and emotional abuse, biting, size difference, Yandere Gojo, demon Gojo, witch reader, jealous, obsessive, manipulative....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Y/n's POV

I was born in a witch family. My mother was a witch too. So were my ancestors. I'm also a witch. I didn't know what was it when I was a kid. Is being a witch a good thing or a bad thing? I always used to ask myself. But all I knew was my mom always used to hide the fact from everyone that we all are witches.

So many years passed. I grew up. I'm an adult now. And I still don't have the answer that if being a witch is good or bad. But for me it became a curse. A curse for which my whole family got killed. The king hired to kill all the witches in his kingdom. He's such a powerful king. And that's why my family isn't with me now.

We all were unaware that they were attacking us. It was the middle of the night. I saw them kill everyone in front of my eyes. I ran away from there. But they saw me. I ran all I could. And for god's blessings they couldn't find me. Now I made a small hut in the forest.

All time fear attacks me that they will find me and kill me too. I can't live like this. I need to find a way where I can live like normal people. So I started learning witches techniques. Maybe any of them will help me? I started reading the books of my ancestors.

I started learning many magics. But none of them are for what I was trying to find. I never did witch activities before. I started searching in all those books. Maybe, just maybe something that will make me like the other normal people and I can live a normal life just like them?

I searched all I could. But nothing was related this. But then I found something. A book which is sealed. I looked at it. It was the last hope. I opened the seal. It was too old. Am I even gonna find anything from here? I opened the book anyways. After some time of reading what I found can actually help me. The things written in the book are:

"He got sealed. After all those trying, we all witches are successful. We sealed him. He, the strongest demon. He got birthed and from that day it was all the witch's job to end him. Though its not possible to kill him. He's too powerful. We all were also shocked that we got him sealed. He was birthed to destroy the world. He wants to rule it. He has destroyed too many places. He has killed too many people. And after doing rituals we managed to seal him. That demon, that monster's name is:

Gojo Satoru"

I kept turning the pages and the last page got my attention.......

Process to unseal Gojo Satoru

He'll fulfill your wish

My heart started beating wildly. Should I do it? It is mentioned that he is too dangerous. But he'll fulfill my wish. I don't have anything in my life. Does it even matter if I risk it? If I don't do it people are gonna try to kill me all the time. Then I should take a risk. I have to go to the place mentioned in the book.

The place mentioned in the book is the old burnt castle at the end of the forest. I've seen that castle from the young age. Everyone told me to stay away from there. But they never told me the story behind it. Today I got to know about the real story behind it.

The ritual needs to be done at night. So I collected all the things that were needed in the ritual that day. And I went there the next night. I wore a hooded dress so that no one could recognise me. And I was lucky that there weren't any people there. I quickly made my way inside the old castle with a candle in my hand.

I entered the castle. It was huge. There's dust everywhere. And the castle is burnt also. It made me curious about what happened here? I kept walking. The huge stairs from the middle. I have to go to the top room of this castle. As in the book there's a throne room which is the ritual room. I went up there.

I pushed the door open and my mouth was wide open by the beauty of the throne room. I wondered what it looked like when it wasn't burnt. I went towards the throne. I don't have enough time to do the ritual. I quickly set up what was written in the book. Then lit up all the candles. Then started doing the ritual. My heart was thumping against my chest.

As I completed the spell. The wind started flowing heavily. Suddenly all the candles were extinguished together. Then the wind stopped flowing. And all of a sudden all the candles lit up together again. Then I saw a tall human figure sitting on the throne.

He has a huge masculine body. He's tall, has handsome sharp features, white hair, white eyelashes and those gorgeous blue eyes. He looks exactly the same said in the book. He's wearing all black royal clothes. He turned his head on both sides and the cracking sound echoed through the room. Then he looked at me.

Can that beautiful person be that dangerous? I asked myself. "So you're the one who unsealed me?" He spoke. I have to respect him. "Yes, my lord" I replied looking at the ground. "Hmmmmm.....well, this place is still burnt and dusty everywhere.... and I don't like my castle to lose its beauty" he said and threw a hand beside him.

A blue ray came out of his hand. And all of a sudden the castle turned all new. Not burnt anymore neither dust anywhere. I was already gorgeous and now it has become more gorgeous. A huge black gorgeous castle. "Hmm.....so what's the reason you unsealed me?" He asked.

"my lord, I'm a witch.... people of the king are killing all the witches. They killed my family too. I don't wanna live like this. I was to live like normal people. I want everyone to think of me like normal people. I want to be loved." I replied. And then there was silence. I could feel him staring at me.

"So you don't wanna be a witch any more and want to be loved right?"he asked. "... yes. My lord" I replied. He smirked. "Okay....done" he said swiping his finger in the air. My eyes widened in hope that now I can live like normal people. I looked at my hand and the witch sign was gone.

That means..... that means I'm not a witch anymore? I was so happy. "T-thank you... thank you, my lord" I said with a smile on my face. I stood up. I said "I should go now-" he didn't let me finish "No" he said. It almost seemed like an order. I dared to look at him. And there was a sinister smirk on his face.

"I didn't give you permission to leave" he said and went up from the throne. And within a blink I was standing in front of me. I got frightened and took a step back with a gasp. "You scared?" He asked with a smirk. I didn't reply. "Are you?" He asked again tilting his head. ".... N-No" I replied.

"okay.... then come with me... let me show you something" I said with a grin offering a hand to me. I have to accept his hand and so I did. And within a blink we both were standing in front of the window. How fast is he? "Look at the kingdom. I own this. I'm gonna burn this place" he said. Now he was definitely terrifying me.

He placed a hand on my waist and pulled me against him. Now this is getting too uncomfortable. "And you'll be watching them die with me from here. And I'll kill them first who killed your family" he said. What does that mean?! "M-my lord I should go now" I said. "And I already said no" he said looking at me.

"you want to be loved, right?..... you'll be living here in my castle with me.... and I'll give you all the love you need" he whispered in my ear. My eyes widened. Oh no no no. This is not what I want. He wants to kidnap me in his castle?! Shit I don't have my powers anymore either. What should I do now?!

"what happened?" He asked and nuzzled his face on my neck. I took a deep breath and pushed him. Then ran all I could. I was running through the corridor and bumped into someone. Of course it's none other than Gojo Satoru. I don't have any ways now. I automatically started crying.

He smirked. "Didn't thought someone has the bravery to disobey me" he said and started walking towards me and I started walking backwards. "P-Please let me go I don't want that life" I cried. "Oh darling you don't know how much I love to see people crying. And for your life I'm the one have the power to decide how you'll live" he said.

Then he clapped his hand and we both were standing in a.... BEDROOM?! He grabbed my hand and pulled me against him. "Now tell me what you were saying?" He asked. "P-Please....let go... P-Please" I said. "Let you go? But didn't you wish to be loved? I'm giving you the love you deserve" he said while grabbing my ass and squeezing it.

I yelped at that. "P-Please I don't want to stay her-" before I could even complete my sentence he threw me on the bed and claimed on me. I screamed so loudly out of fear when threw me on the bed. "Didn't you say you're not scared? That seems like a lie now" he said and took off a strand of hair out of my face.

"it's been years since I was sealed. Never thought I'll get this gorgeous gift as soon as I get unsealed " he said with a smirk and pressed his lips on mine. I tried to push his chest but he grabbed my hands and held them beside my head while kissing me aggressively. He pushed his tongue inside my mouth.

I was shaking my head in protest but he didn't stop. When he stopped he immediately grabbed the top of my dress and tore it off. How strong is he??? He tore off a dress with Corset with his hands?! I almost screamed when he did. I covered myself and tried to crawl up.

He grabbed my hair and made me look at him. "Did I say to cover yourself???" He asked. His eyes shined. Tears falling down from my eyes. He smirked and licked my neck with his long tongue. I was shaking from fear. "You know seeing you scared makes me more turned on" he whispered.

I couldn't breathe. He grabbed the hem of my dress and pulled it over my head. My boobs bounced out. He looked at those with lust in his eyes. His eyes shined in the dim light. He didn't waste any time, crashed his mouth on my breast licking, sucking and teasing the nipple and squeezing the other one with his hand. I moaned in the sensation. I grabbed his hair and tried to stop him by pulling it but it didn't even affect him. "M-my lord stopppp" I screamed but he didn't stop. "It's Satoru, darling.... I won't kill you if you call me Satoru"

Then he took off my pantie. He looked at my pussy. He rubbed his finger on my clit and whispered " so wet. You naughty little slut, getting wet for me huh?". Then he licked my pussy. I couldn't help but moan loudly. He smirked at my reaction and undo his pants.

His dick sprang out. It was too big and too thick. "Look... this is what you have done to me..." he said while stroking his dick. Fear grabbed me by my neck. " S-Satoru no no no... P-please no... s-stop" I begged and called him Satoru as he said so maybe he listens to me? but didn't even listen to me and slammed his whole dick inside me in one slide. I screamed. He didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thrusting in and out roughly. I was through my legs with pain and begging him to stop. And he liked it so much. His thrust became harder and harder.

I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly " you know.... you're the first witch I love....I always hated all the witches.... never seen such a gorgeous witch like you.... f-fuck what great present I got as soon as I got unsealed" he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bite his shoulder scratched his back to control myself. With a few more thrusts I came. He was still thrusting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength." Ughh...no no no no...ahhhhhh... I don't want this ..." I moaned. "Do you still think you can make me stop?" He said with a smirk. I dig my nails more deeper into his back as he Marked me. He continued thrusting. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out. He fell beside me on the bed.

"You need to be loved? I'll give you all the love you deserve..... now spread your legs again.... I'm not done yet.... I was sealed for over 500 years.... you don't expect me to stop right now, do you?" He said and chuckled demonicly.

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💕

[horygory]

Smile (2022)

[absolute-flaming-trash]

Pairing: Yandere!Alastor x Fem!Reader

SFW

Word Count: 1'882

Warnings: Yandere, Abuse, Abusive relationship, Choking, Degradation, Manhandling, Threats, Possessiveness, Alastor is a massive asshole and mean as shit. Dead Dove Do Not Eat

Hindsight was always 20/20.

A bit of an understatement, really. Looking back it was hard to believe just how much one decision could impact your entire afterlife, and you wanted to kick yourself.

Desperation was the excuse you gave yourself whenever you thought about why you made a deal with Alastor.

What he proposed wasn’t something you thought too much of at the time. In exchange for your soul, he offered you security - solidarity in a realm where most were keen on focusing on the weakest among them and tearing them to shreds. Not only would you be protected on a daily basis, but you had, essentially, a guarantee that you would survive extermination day whenever it inevitably rolled around.

Seemed almost too good to be true, but knowing the risks involved in refusing, you had accepted.

He never asked much of you in return, much to your surprise. Nothing that ever seemed too unreasonable, at least. If anything, the things he asked of you felt more like exchanges that would occur between friends - taking on small tasks he’d otherwise find too boring to entertain.

Sometimes you’d even go as far as to call them domestic.

Oh, but you knew better than to assume your relationship fell anywhere close to friendship. Amicable was a better word, not good nor bad, but certainly nothing to be overtly confident about - which made what you intended to ask so much worse.

The very thought of it made a shiver go through your body as you walked through the Hotel hallway. A voice in the back of your mind, your conscience perhaps, whispered that it wasn’t too late to turn back. To do a complete 180 and march right back the way you came.

You didn’t listen.

By the time you came to a stop, the hairs on your arms stood completely on end. The door in front of you looked exactly like the others that lined the hallway, deceptive in its mundane simplicity. It only made the feeling of foreboding that much worse as you held your breath and raised your hand to knock, knuckles barely grazing the polished wood at first but connecting more solidly the second time around.

A part of you prayed there wouldn’t be an answer, nails digging further into your palms as the silence extended onwards.

Please don’t answer, please don’t answer-

All hopes were dashed by the dark wood swinging open to reveal a wall of red.

Alastor bent slightly at the waist when greeting you, bringing his eye level slightly down to yours, “My, my, what a pleasant surprise this is!~”

The smile you could muster in response didn’t even come close to matching his own, and your greeting not nearly as jovial.

“Hi.” You said, pausing briefly between words. “I was wondering if you had a few minutes?”

The signature clicking of his vertebrae accompanied the tilt of his head as he stared down at you intrigued. “Whatever for?~”

You began to pick at your nail beds. “Just to talk.”

Alastor hummed, amusement dancing behind his eyes before he opened the door to his suite a little bit wider.

“Oh, I suppose I could spare a moment or two for somebody like you.~”

The way he said it made you unsure whether such a statement was a compliment or an insult, but regardless you followed him inside.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you…” You began to say, looking around the space. No matter how many times you’d been inside, you’d never get used to it.

“Not at all, sweetheart!~” His arm came around your shoulders, leading you further into his suite and towards the table he had set up in the swampland that seamlessly blended in with the decor.

With a flash of green another chair appeared beside his own, and he gestured towards it with the end of his microphone staff.

“Have a seat.~”

You complied, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you did so. Foolishly, you had hoped to stay standing for this conversation in order to keep it as brief as possible. The cool metal of the chair dug into the skin of your thighs despite your clothing and you found yourself staring at the tabletop rather than at Alastor himself.

“Now,” There was some rustling of paper as Alastor picked a newspaper back up off the table, half paying attention to you when he spoke. “What can I do for you, my dear?”

This was it. No going back, no cutting corners, better to rip the bandaid off than to beat around the bush.

You bit your cheek harder and you could already taste the blood on your tongue before you opened your mouth.

“I want out.”

Alastor barely looked in your direction, but the subtle twitch of his ear was hard to miss once you spoke.

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow but never took his eyes off the paper in his lap as he turned the page. “Care to elaborate?”

“Our deal.” The words felt thick when you spoke them. Heavy. “I want my soul back.”

Alastor’s pause made the atmosphere feel nothing short of dreadful as he turned his head to look at you directly. His ever-present smile widened while his eyes narrowed.

“Now what makes you think you deserve that, sweetheart?~”

“It isn’t about deserving anything.” You stated, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. “It’s… renegotiating.”

Alastor snickered, the sound accompanied by a pre-recorded laugh track.

“Well, aren’t you simply adorable?” He placed the newspaper off to the side and rapped his claws against the table. “Unfortunately for you, that’s not how deals work.”

Your hands curled into fists in your lap as he continued speaking.

“While the deal we made was a fairly simple one, the end result is the same.” He crossed his legs and leaned back in his seat. “I own your soul. There aren’t any take-backsies on the matter.”

Nails bit into your palm at the syrupy condescension in his voice. It made anger brim in your chest, but acting on emotion was not a smart move here.

You took a deep breath. “Our deal has run its course, though.” You did your best to ignore how his eyes narrowed further at that. “Now that I’m at the Hotel… it offers what you originally did, so your part of the bargain is no longer necessary.”

His eyes flashed, glowing a brighter red and illuminating the space between the two of you for a moment.

“Ah, I see. You think our deal is now void because I’ve been replaced in a sense.” His smile was anything but reassuring or kind. “And therefore you shouldn’t be expected to uphold your end of the bargain, am I correct?~”

You swallowed thickly. “Yes.”

Alastor tutted. “My dear, who are you to get to decide when our deal is void in any way, shape, or form?”

The question was clearly rhetorical, but you answered anyway.

“Because it’s my soul.” The firmness in your voice did little to cover how weak of an answer that truly was. “I should be able to get a say in when we’ve reached the end of our contract-”

A green flash and the cold snap of metal around your neck cut off any further words you had to say. You barely had any time to register your air getting cut off as you were yanked forward harshly into the dirt - leaving you coughing when the chain slackened enough for you to breathe once more.

“It seems to me that you are forgetting a few things, darling,” Alastor said, pulling sharply on the chain once more to force your face back up to his.

Green stitches lined the seams of his clothes and wove at the edges of his smile - antlers growing with each word he spoke, and it took every bit of courage you had to bite back a whimper.

He was pissed.

“Firstly, the Hotel,” He cooed sweetly,” is the sanctuary you rave it to be because I keep it that way.”

Alastor stood from his chair and stalked towards you, wrapping the end of the chain around his microphone as he went.

“Secondly, might I remind you that it was you who approached me.” He hissed, faux kindness mixing with the barely contained anger you could see in his eyes.

“You,” He nudged your chin with the end of his microphone, “ came to me with the proposal of offering yourself in exchange for my services, not the other way around.” His eyes scanned over your form - lingering on the way your chest moved rapidly to accommodate your breaths before returning to your face.

“I've grown... accustomed to you, my dear, and our deal stands until I say so. Since you are seemingly incapable of understanding the subtleties of that, I’ll put it in simple terms so you can understand.”

The cool metal of your collar was soon replaced with the warm, smooth texture of his glove as he kneeled in the dirt and wrapped his hand around your neck. The gesture made you gasp, reflexively drawing in as much air as possible before he could choke you, but Alastor didn’t squeeze. Instead, he let the weight of his hand do the work.

“I own you. Every breath you take, every little thought in that empty head of yours belongs completely and solely to me.”

The black of his gums peeked out as his smile - which felt more akin to a snarl - widened. “Besides, what would you even do if I gave your soul back?”

Another rhetorical question, but the humiliation and inequity of the situation caused you to answer once more despite everything inside screaming at you not to.

“That’s my business.”

The sheer volume of emotion that passed through Alastor’s eyes told you that was the wrong fucking answer to give.

He snickered and leaned closer to the point you could smell the rot of his breath. “See, you might think that, darling, but since you’re mine, it’s my business too. So here’s how this is going to go.”

The hand around your throat began to squeeze.

“My business is to keep you. You’ll keep doing each and every little thing I ask of you, and you certainly won’t voice complaint when doing so.”

You choked and sputtered again when he hauled you to your feet by your throat and pushed you back into your seat - the armrests catching you directly in the funny bone, causing you to yelp. He placed his hands on either side of you and leered over you. It was the smallest you’d ever felt in your life.

“I’m more than willing to speak to you about anything you wish, darling, I truly am.” He said, inhaling deeply before continuing, and you swore his smile dropped the most you’d ever seen it.

“But if you ever try to speak to me about this again, you’ll learn just how easy you have it with me, is that clear?”

You felt yourself nodding before your mind could even register it. “C-crystal.”

A mixture of relief and dread sunk in your stomach when his smile returned to its normal state and he reached his hand up to pat you twice on the head.

“That’s my girl.~”

© absolute-flaming-trash 2024. Do not repost, modify, copy, or claim.

[fangfic]

Normally I'm not into ghosts but imagine a horny ghost possessing you so they can have a body to have sex with and they bring you to like a brothel while you can't do anything but watch and feel.

As the ghosts undresses you and whistles a couple of horny men to you, they fill up your body with their smelly thick cocks.

You pray for the assault to end but when the first guy makes you cum you orgasm like you've never done before because while the ghost can feel your feelings, you can also feel theirs.

Suddenly it isn't that bad to be a possessed fucktoy.

[lilith-vodkaaunt-of-demons]

In an unmarked laboratory in North Eastern Kansas.

Breathing heavily, Cass stood up and took a look at her handy work, swiping copper curls away from her eyes. It had taken some effort, creativity, and lots and lots of cursing, but the room was finally finished. Mere months ago it had been a vague image of a dream of an idea, but now it was finally complete. Her friends and colleagues all laughed at her. Her parents had even gone back on their word to fund her Graduate School, telling her they had agreed to fund her schooling for a career, not a dead end obsession. But look at her now! In a laboratory! With real equipment! And funding! It didn't matter that she'd never heard of the government department those two bozos in their ridiculous white monkey suits claimed to be from, they'd handed her a functionally bottomless grant, all the equipment and time she needed, and told her only one thing.

"Report everything to us. No matter how miniscule you think it is, no matter how insignificant. If your coffee tastes different after an experiment, report it." What a bunch of weirdos.

"Ha...haha...hahaha hahaha! Finally! Now that the room is finished, all I need to do is start the process!" Cass crowed gleefully, giddy with excitement and anticipation. She once again looked at her work. She had to admit...it looked like the room of a person suffering from unmedicated schizophrenia. In the center of the 15x15 room was a circle, about 4 feet in diameter, inside the circle were symbols, sigils, and diagrams from Alchemy to the Zodiac. Just outside that circle was a ring of solidified salt, pressed into an impression on the floor. Spreading out from that across the floor, up the walls, and even on the ceilings were words in every language from Aztec to Sumerian, and religious iconography from every religion from Christianity to Zunism.

Cass had spent years preparing for this. Using every cent, every favor, every resource and scrap of goodwill she could find in preparation for this. She was finally going to prove to everyone that she wasn't some obsessed lunatic. She was going to prove the existence of Higher Beings. And to do it, she was going to summon a demon. Now all she had to do was start the process.

It was easy. She stepped up to the center of the circle. The focal point of the entire array of binding spells, prays, and words of power she'd inscribed in every surface of the room save for this cirlce, the one clean spot. She pulled out a scalpel and sliced the inside of her forearm, letting the blood bead up, then drip down and pool on the floor. She'd never understood the idea of cutting your hand. You used those. This was much easier to take care of, and you still had the use of both hands. After a few moments of letting the blood collect, Cass wrapped her arm in a towel, pressing down to make the bleeding slow, and stepped back out of the salt circle.

She briefly left the room, going to the first aid kit she left just outside the door to see to the minor laceration. After all, she didn't want dripping blood to ruin her sigils and protection charms. Once the bleed stopped, she returned to the room, a notebook in hand. She opened the notebook and began to chant.

400 miles away, at the Kent's Farm...

A young man, not dissimilar to Clark Kent when he was younger, was helping Pa Kent fix up the old tractor while Ma Kent tended to the animals. It seemed the pair had figured out what was wrong with it, but it was in a particularly hard to reach place.

"Sounds like we're gonna need to pull the whole engine out to fix this." Pa Kent said, a bit of disappointment in his voice, "That's gonna be pricey. Might have to wait a while." He mumbled to himself, one hand rubbing his jaw, leaving a trail of oil along his face, "Gonna be tough getting the crop in without ol' Bessie."

"Naaaah, don't worry about a thing. I can patch her up well enough to get the harvest in, then we can take out the engine over the winter." Danny said, his hand turning opaque. He then slid his hand through the chassi of the tractor, "Hold on," He continued, his face suddenly turned similarly opaque, "Better see what I'm doing here." He said as he shoved his face into the chassi of the tractor as well, "Yup! We were right! Duct busted. I can patch it up nicely, should last until the harvest is brought in!" He called from inside the tractor.

Pa Kent shook his head and chuckled, "Even with everything Clark did, I don't think I'll ever get use to that. Go ahead and patch her up. Then we can head in for lunch before tackling the field." He said, giving Danny a pat on the back. Suddenly a bright green glow emenates from the inside of the tractor before Danny pulled his head and hand back out.

"Let it cool, and it should be good an' patched." He said proudly, soot and oil covering his entire face and one hand.

"You uh, got somethin' on your face, Danny."

"Oh? Where?"

"Uh. there." Pa Kent said, pointing to the entirety of Danny's face before tossing him a rag, and turning to head into the house. Danny began to wipe his face off, then started coughing a bit, "Yeah, that oil can taste somethin' awful if it gets in your mouth." Pa said, thinking Danny had just tasted some of the oil, but Danny kept coughing, and the coughing got worse until Pa turned around to see Danny on his knees, one hand over his mouth, another around his throat like he was choking. Black frost and steam poured from Danny's mouth like he'd just run a mile on a freezing December morning, but it was the middle of the day in early September, nearly 90 degrees out in an open field. Pa ran over to Danny, and knelt down in front of him, "You okay, boy?" He asked, worry plain on his face.

Danny shook his head and gasped, "Something!...Big!...Coming!" Was all he could get out before, in a flash of light, he'd transformed into his alter-ego, Danny Phantom, and in a streak of green, blasted off into the sky, soon followed by the telltale boom of super sonic flight.

Danny was already about a mile above the ground, still coughing up what he could only describe as frost mixed with soot and rotten eggs. It was like his Ghost Sense had gone into overdrive, and happened to run through a Coal Mine and a Landfill on it's way out. Even Pariah Dark hadn't made his Ghost Sense react like that, especially not at this distance. Whatever it was, he needed to get there yesterday, because it, whatever it was, was absolutely massive and even from there, Danny could feel the hostility radiating from it. Bad News didn't even begin to cover whatever this thing was.

Meanwhile, back at the Laboratory...

Cassi began chanting the invocation she'd pieced together. It had been like figuring out a puzzles who's pieces had been hidden all over the world. Words from disparate languages that fit together to make an ancient call to those Outside. But Cass had managed to find the words and put them together. She hoped she'd put them together in the correct order, otherwise who knew what she was calling out to.

At first, it didn't seem to be working. No crack in the ground or air appeared. No red skinned, horned imp appeared in a puff of crimson smoke. The lights didn't even flicker as she read the incantation. Cass was about to stop when she saw a ripple run across the surface of the pool of her blood in the center of the inner circle. First a small ripple, like a drop of water hitting the surface of a puddle. Cass continued chanting. Then another ripple, from left to right, like something skimming the surface. Cass continued chanting. Then it seemed to stop.

Cass chanted for a minute or two, spurred on by the unusual behavior of the blood. Right as her throat was beginning to ache, a hand burst through the surface of the blood, pale skin stained red and rivulets of blood ran down the arm that followed. The hand gripped the edge of the pool of blood like it was much deeper than it could possibly be. Then another hand burst forth, also followed by a pale arm.

Cass stopped chanting, what she had called had obviously already broken through, and was now simply pulling itself out. She watched in fascination that slowly mixed with a bit of fear as she realized that the being that was pulling itself out of a pool of her blood looked exactly like her, save for it's eyes, with black sclera and yellow iris. Cass watched with matched Fascination and Fear as the being continued to pull itself from the pool, and she realized that the more of the doppleganger that was out of the blood, the less blood there appeared to be.

Cass also noticed, with some surprise, that while she had initially the creature to be naked, it (she?) was in facted, clothed. She wore a strapless, low-cut black ball gown that clung to her (Cass's?) body in all the right places to accentuate her feminine form in ways Cass rarely did.

Once the woman (demon?) had completely pulled itself through, and the puddle of blood completely disappeared, she stood up, smiling at Cass in what she assumed was it's purposefully unnerving way. She had to admit, this is not what she had expected. In truth, she hadn't really known what to expect, but this wasn't it. She had thought there might be a chance that whatever she summoned might try to imitate her form, but in a more threatening manner. Boils, pustules, sores, and lacerations, things to make her terrified, or perhaps a more perfect version of herself, with the things she considered defects or unattractive about herself washed away.

She was not prepared for a rather normal looking, though perhaps less desheveled and better dressed, version of herself. She was actually so distracted by the pure mundanity of the entity before her that she jumped and screamed when the creature spoke.

"D̷̺̉o̷͍̎ ̵̥̏y̸͔͗o̸̡̾u̵̹͠ ̶̟̀k̵͎͌n̴͙͗ȯ̶̟ẅ̴́͜ ̶͚̀w̵̭͘h̵̻͝y̶͓̌ ̵͎́p̴͍̿e̸̮͛o̵̠͝p̶̩̓l̶̡̃è̵̮ ̵͖̈́ȃ̵̳l̶̹̂w̵̞̋a̸͛ͅy̷͉͒ş̷̇ ̴̪͐s̶̥̉u̶̞̅m̵̻͑m̷̢͒ò̸̤n̵̬̏ ̸̨̈ǘ̸̳ș̷̃ ̵͙͌b̸͙͑y̵̹͆ ̴̣͐ǩ̷͎i̷͖͒l̶̺͛l̴͎͛ị̴͂n̷̞͗g̵̮̍ ̴̌͜a̷̮͠n̶͕̚ ̷̩͝a̶̧͐n̵̽͜i̴̥̽m̶͉̑a̸͓͌l̴̤̓?̶̼̂" It asked, it's voice like a thousand people speaking almost in unison, making it a bit hard to understand.

Cass, after screaming and jumping so hard she almost fell over, took a deep breath and reoriented herself, "I...What?" She asked, between the synchronicity and her being startled, she hadn't processed the question.

The creature repeated itself, this time the effect is lessened a bit, "D̷o̵ ̴y̶o̵u̶ ̶k̶n̵o̷w̸ ̷w̶h̷y̴ ̴p̵e̵o̸p̸l̵e̶ ̷a̸l̶w̵a̷y̶s̶ ̶s̶u̴m̴m̴o̶n̵ ̵u̶s̵ ̵b̵y̴ ̵k̵i̶l̶l̵i̶n̴g̷ ̶a̷n̷ ̴a̵n̴i̷m̸a̸l̸ i̵n̷s̸t̷e̵a̶d̷ ̶o̶f̸ ̶o̵f̶f̴e̵r̸i̸n̴g̵ ̸h̸u̵m̵a̸n̸ ̸b̶l̷o̴o̵d̶?̷" As it asked the question, it lightly stepped to the edge of the circle, lightly touching something unseen with one of Cass's fingers.

Cass blinked, then looked down at her notebook. She flipped through a few pages before looking back at the woman with her face, "Um...No. Why?" Cass asked. This wasn't what she was expecting at all. Something felt...off. Like maybe she'd made a mistake that she wasn't quite aware of. But whatever that may have been, she was sure she was right about the sigils, the protective charms, the binding spells. There was no way the entity could escape.

Almost as if it could read Cass's mind, it grinned, "Connection. A Goat. A Lamb. A fowl of some sort." Now the entity was speaking in Cass's voice, which only served to cause her more discomfort, "They cut it's throat, release it's....delicious life blood, and summon us. Giving us Horns. Hooves. Wings....mmmmflesh." It purred, running it's hands up and down it's, Cass's, body, "Giving us...Connection."

"Connection to here? To Earth?" Cass asked. She was having trouble following. Her brain was being sluggish for some reason. She couldn't seem to put thoughts together in her head, and the entity wasn't making any sense.

"The smarter ones leave the sacrifice dead in the circle. The less smart ones kill but leave the body out of the circle, and dead bodies are so easy to manipulate." The Entity explained, stepping over the edge of the circle, "But it's the Smartest ones that make the same mistake over and over, because you don't want money, or power, or anything like the rest of them. You just want answers." It continued as it walked up to Cass, wrapping an arm around her waist. Cass, meanwhile, felt a pang of fear jolt through her, but she couldn't quite remember why. Something about words and circles. Boundaries? "In the end, it's your pacifism, your mercy that kills you. Had you just beheaded a chicken, or disembowled some livestock, you might have lived to tell others not to seek these answers." It whispered to Cass, "But you've handed me the keys to your body, and oh, I am going to make myself right at home."

"My...blood...." Was all Cass could say. Demon, Devil, whatever it was, it was exerting some kind of anesthetic influence on her, slowing her body and her mind, but she was still able to make the connection. The sigils, the symbols, the protection charms and spells. None of them had worked because Cass had used her own blood. Whatever it was, it had bypassed them all because Cass was outside the barrier.

Not Cass giggled delightedly, "It makes it all the sweeter that you figured out what you did wrong too little too-"BOOM! Not Cass began to say, but was interrupted by the sound of something that had been moving very fast hitting a Warded Steel Wall. Slowly, as if reaching through thick mud, a white-gloved hand slid through the wall, then another, and a boot, then another. Finally, a very red, very unhappy face slid through after it.

"What in the fu-Whoa!" Danny said, his ghost form flickering, half reverting him to human, "What is up with this room? First, it acts like a non-newtonian liquid despite me being intangible, and now this? What's going WHOA!" Danny shouted, just noticing the pair inside with him. His vision flickered between two women and a woman and some kind of vile chimera beast starting to overshadow the woman.

The Not Woman smiles as she looked Danny up and down, "Well, aren't you an interes-OOF!" It started to say before getting interrupted by Danny tackling it, separating it from the woman it was trying to overshadow. "My, you're stronger than you look, Ghostling!" It cackled, "Maybe we can have some fun!" It struck out at Danny, the human fist reinforced by the power of the beast hiding behind it. It wasn't the hardest Danny had ever been hit, but it certainly wasn't a Box Ghost Punch either.

"Look Lady, I don't know what your whole deal is, but around here, we don't just overshadow people for shits and giggles. And we certainly don't let people with your kind of vibes just hang around, either!" Danny said, wrapping the beast in ecto-energy while fending off the Not Woman. Something not dissimilar to a Ghost Portal was still open on the floor, but Danny could feel from just looking at it that whatever was on the otherside was nothing like the Ghost Zone.

"Oh ho! You really are impressive!" The Not Woman growled, a grin on her face, but it was clear that she was struggling with the ecto-shield he'd wrapped around her true body, "But you don't know what you're meddling with, Daniel. Beings such as yourself are easy to influence!" She said, sucking the strange creature into her body, freeing her from the ecto-shield he'd wrapped around it. She launched herself at Danny, and opened her mouth, a vile, black sludge ejecting all over Danny's face.

"How-Eugh! Forget it, I don't even want to know how you know my name! I've had more than enough of you! Time. To. Go. Home!" Danny roared, wrapping the Not Woman in a bear hug as she continued to vomit the black sludge on him. Then he spun towards the portal, and used all of his might to slam her down into it, knocking her off of him and into the portal. Using his portal powers, he grabbed the edges of the tear, and began to force it shut.

As he's closing the portal, black hands reached through and pull him against the half-closed portal, and a screeching voice shrieked, "You and I are not finished, Child of Thanatos! Descendant of Azrael! You will seek me out soon enough!" It screeched, grabbing at Danny as he struggled to close the portal.

Danny eyes briefly flashed red and he growled back, "Enough! I don't know who you are, but go back to where you came from!" He shouted, slamming the portal shut with all his strength. The entity gone, the portal shut, Danny was suddenly overcome with a wave of exhaustion, his Ghost Form fully reverting back. He fell to his knees, he head swimming as the effects of the room finally began to effect him. Only then did he notice the searing pain from the left half of his face, where the Not Woman had vomited the nasty black sludge on him. Knowing what was coming next, Danny reached into his pocket and pressed the emergency button on his phone before passing out.

Somewhere...

Danny floated in a black void. It wasn't the first time he'd had a dream like this, though he couldn't rightly recall the first time he'd had one. It was actually somewhat of a relief, since most of his dreams had to do with a cavalcade of rogues from his rogues gallery. Or so he'd thought. Something was different this time. This time, it didn't feel like he was alone in the black void. He could hear movement, whispers, feel eyes on him. Something was there with him. He goes to rub his eyes, and feels scale-like skin on his face. Suddenly he's looking at his own face, except half of it isn't his, it's monsterous.

"I TOLD YOU I WASN'T FINISHED WITH YOU, GHOSTLING!" A familiar, shrill voice screeched and cackled. Danny screamed, and sat up from the hospital bed he was in, his heart, ususally much slower than normal, nearly beating out of his chest. He looked around, and quickly recognized the medical floor of the JL Watchtower. His emergency call must have gone through. He sighed with relief, and laid back in the hospital bed. He attempted to relax, but that dream continued to bug him.

Soon enough, a doctor came in, "Well, given your...unique biology, we can't say anything for certain, but now that you've stabilized, you should be fine." The doctor said, looking through some chart, "Though, there is one thing we should probably look into..."

"Hold on." Danny said, holding up a hand, "Stabilized? I passed out because of the funky stuff in the weird room, what do you mean Stabilized?"

The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous gesture, "Well, Daniel...when the WatchTower emergency crew found you, you seemed to be having some sort of...episode? You kept changing into a ghost and back to your human form. In fact, you were doing it the entire time you were unconscious, and only stopped shortly before you woke up." The doctor explained, "And then there's..."

"And then there's....what, doc? What's going on." Danny asked, a bit exasperated.

"It might be better for you to see it."

"See. What. Doctor." Danny ground out. The Doctor held out a mirror. At first Danny hesitated, the dream coming back to him briefly, but then he grabbed the mirror from the doctor and held it up and...nothing. He looked completely normal, black hair, blue eyes. Skin was fine, "I look fine."

"Transform, Daniel."

Danny did as he was told, and transformed, then gasped and dropped the mirror, his hands flying to his face. It wasn't the same as the nightmare, exactly, but it wasn't good, either. Starting at about the half-way point across his forehead, the skin of his forehead began to turn black and hard, pulling up until it all came together in an unmistakable black horn coming out from his left temple. The Sclera of his eye partially black, highlighting the neon green even moreso. Whatever that thing was, it had done this to him, whatever this was. And it had been right, that wasn't going to be the last time they saw each other.

[bimboothefool]

"I know a lot about you...more than you think." During first date with yandere pico?

[whereserpentswalk]

You get possessed sometimes. It's not a big deal. You don't really consider yourself supernatural the same way other people you know who are supernatural are, like people with fae ancestry, or spellcasters, or people with vampirism or lycanthropy. You just consider yourself a normal privileged human, who happens to be really easy to possess.

It can happen pretty randomly. Just when you're walking somewhere, if you walk past the wrong thing. Useally places with demonic or eldritch power that's isn't properly bound, or haunted places that the city hasn't bothered to take care of. It'll useally just happen when you're out walking the street.

Being very easy to possess is weird. It's not like how most people are possessed where it'll have to be a big thing with a ritual. Spirits will just walk into you. Sometimes you don't even see them. Useally your body will reject them pretty fast, it's learned to do so quite well. It feels really bad when it happens, you watch yourself lose control of your actions, and than start feeling emotions and thinking thoughts that aren't your own. And it's distressing because you lose so much control so fast. And then it's over. Often you'll see the spirit walking away. Sometimes they'll apologize to you, useally you'll apologize to them.

You feel like you've inconvenienced so many people. People always act like you're being selfish, or weird, or lazy, if you need to rest, or spend time emotionally recovering after it happens. It's just a quick possession. Most of the time they don't even know you're possessed, they just think you saw something and got scared, or started acting weirdly for no reason.

And there are some streets you can never walk down, or stores you can't go in, and it's hard to explain to people just why that is. Most people outside of some close freinds don't tend to take it seriously. For whatever reason truly supernatural people, those vampires and witches you hate comparing yourself to, seem to be the most understanding. Sometimes they even say you're like them but it feels weird to feel that way, it feels weird to call yourself oppressed on a supernatural axis just for being easy to possess.

Sometimes you wish society did a better job and keeping cracks in reality that lead to other dimensions closed, but it feels like a selfish think to demand unless they're so big corporal entities start coming through. And it isn't the corporal entities that are the ones causing you specifically pain. Is it pain? It is pain right? It's weird to call it pain. Weirder to call it suffering.

You attended a class last semester where you were expected to deal with the type of spirit that can so easily possess you. The city has laws on accessibility that make it so you should be allowed to skip that specific part but they failed you for it anyway. To be fair it's their right to fail you. You didn't bother bringing it up. You didn't think it would be right to stand next to a werewolf, and tell them you're dealing with the same problems as them just for having a weak spiritual membrane.

Sometimes it's worse. Most spirits possess you on accident or out of opportunity, but a few are sadistic. You were possessed on the subway once by one which forced you to touch your breasts for it, and rub yourself in ways thst made you esepcially uncomfortable. Another one while you were waiting outside of a deli forced you to cry and start hurting yourself. You were nearly arrested both times. It still feels like it's your fault. People taking the train aren't expecting you to just randomly do that.

Part of why you left the town you grew up in was because they're way less ok with people doing weird things on the street than they are in the city. Apparently you just aren't allowed in some communities. It's weird how right it feels, to be banned from some places for something you can't control.

It's so easy to hurt you. It's so easy for anyone to hurt you. Yet you don't feel like a victim. You feel like this privileged little thing that's crying for no reason. That's what they always called you anyway.

[karamazovanon]

you are my way of life

(i think verkhovensky would really like frank sinatra)

[zorosdimples]

mdni. f! reader but no gendered terms are used. contains spitting. i wrote this quickly, so please excuse any typos; it’s just a tender moment. insert your fave!

it’s a heat-of-the-moment thing.

he’s leaning lazily against the headboard, legs extended, gazing up at you with heavy eyes as you slowly sink down on his leaking cock. the sway of your breasts and the jiggle of the fat on your hips is mesmerizing. but his focus is on your beautiful face: how your brow knits in concentration as you take more and more of him inside you until your ass is flush with his legs, when your spit-slick lips part to let out a breathy moan and your eyes flutter in pleasure.

content with admiring you as you set the tempo, his broad hands slide up the sides of your thighs to settle on your plush hips, his fingertips wrapping around to dig into you ass. you sit there for a moment, shuddering at the feeling of fullness and warmth before you start grinding your hips at a tantalizing pace. your lover’s eyes roll back at the movement (but they return to you, always to you) and you decide to tease him a bit, nearly lifting yourself off his cock before lowering all the way back down.

the moan he lets out at your ministrations is heavenly—there isn’t anything you wouldn’t do to hear more. you lean forward as you start bouncing steadily, catching his burning, lust-clouded face between your palms. his mouth is parted as he pants and whimpers beneath you, spit glistening on his lips. wordlessly, you grasp his jaw and squeeze. a glob of saliva drips from your mouth and lands on his dry tongue; his eyes don’t leave yours as he swallows.

until, that is, he reaches his high.

there’s no warning; as soon as you spit in his mouth, his abdomen is spasming, cock kicking and twitching inside of you as he orgasms. it didn’t take long at all—far too soon for you to cum. but he’s still hard as he comes down, a dopey grin signaling that he’s far from done. you wiggle against him, chuckling at the way he groans. he playfully swats your ass and wraps his strong arms around your waist to press your chest against his own.

“again?” he asks, fire smoldering in his irises.

“again,” you confirm.

you’ll let him take care of you this round.

[deunmiu-dessie]

ⅲ▬ ⁽ 𝒹𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓃 ⁾ ¹

part two

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₈˖₁ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW, death, gore (??) demon/human, fluff (??) ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა ʳᵃʷʳ ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ : i had to split this into two parts since the entire one-shot was 15.8k words long--- literally crying rn. ˙◠˙

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎ : you wake with no idea where you are, trapped in a room by yourself, the only form of escape is a rusty metal door, though, who's knocking on it?

꒰m!demon ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱

𝒴 ou softly groan while cradling your forehead in your palms, eyes quivering open.  The space you find yourself in is dimly lit, save for a faint glow in the corner. Sitting up is difficult and you release a small wheeze of pain, noticing the faint bruises of different hues covering your thighs. Your eyebrows twitch as the gravel beneath you digs into your palm, marking your skin with painful indentations. Groaning, you struggle to find your footing, the world around you spinning and bouncing within your disoriented vision. When you find balance, you take notice that the air carries a slight chill, and it brushes against your skin, causing goosebumps to rise in welcoming. It causes a tremor to course through your body, and you can almost swear that you feel your bones rattling beneath your flesh. Seeking comfort, you wrap your arms around your abdomen in a hug and pivot to examine the enclosure. It suddenly dawns on you that there is an eerie silence, with only the sound of your labored breaths and the gentle trickle of water from the pipes on the wall, echoing softly in your ears.

  Your eyes finally find an exit and with a deep breath, you move towards the thick, rusty, metal door; heart thundering in your ribcage. Unwinding your arm from your midsection, you form a fist and tap on the door, feeling a flutter of nerves in your stomach. The silence is deafening for a moment, only broken by the sound of dripping water growing louder and then a knock responds from the other side. Your body jerks back in surprise, a sharp gasp escaping your lips. Your heart races, thumping rapidly, as if it wants to burst out of your chest. Then, there's another knock, this time with a bit more force. The door's thickness muffles the sound, but a faint 'hello' manages to catch your attention.  Cautiously, you move forward, your knuckles gently tapping on the door once more. In reply, a quick knock reverberates through the air. "Hello? Can you hear me?" A barely audible 'yes' reaches your ears, prompting a sigh of relief to escape your lips. Collapsing to your knees, you lean against the door, the jagged rocks cutting into your flesh. You gnaw gently at your bottom lip, bones aching and protesting. "Do you know where we are?" "No." Disappointment surges through your like a tsunami and you inhale deeply, taking in the smell of mold and damp concrete; it makes your stomach churn and you once again wrap your arms around your midsection. You wait in silence until the voice speaks once more. "Who are you?"   Instantly, you blurt out your name, your lips cracked and dry. "What about you?" The room falls silent, only the sound of water droplets can be heard. Doubt creeps in and you worry if they are somehow involved in your predicament. Suddenly, a calm, reassuring voice responds, releasing the tension from your body, the cold racking a shudder through your spine. “Ulysses” The lack of a last name doesn't bother you. The room's silence seeps into your thoughts, leaving you restless, and anxious. The chilling grip of fear tightens around your heart, making you wonder if your family is searching for you. Have they reported you missing? Were you going to die? The thought of death at such a young age, having recently turned twenty-four, is unbearable. Just as despair takes hold, a deep and comforting voice breaks through, providing a much-needed sense of relief. “You're thinking too much, calm down.” Your breath escapes in a deep shudder as you lean against the door, the sharp metal flakes digging into your skin. You wanted to― needed to feel some sense of connection, of not being alone in this moment of panic. How did he sense your impending breakdown? The question lingers, but you push it aside.   His voice is a balm, offering both comfort and an unfamiliar sense of security. The flickering light on your left momentarily distracts you, as a shadow flits by and disappears. Intrigue fills your mind, prompting you to rise slowly, your legs trembling beneath you.   As you approach the narrow opening, barely taller than yourself, you tiptoe on the edge of your shoe. A surge of anticipation rushes through you as you realize there are people nearby! Students bustle through the corridor, disappearing into what you presume to be classrooms. The sound of footsteps grabs your attention, prompting you to extend your hand through the gap, only to be met by a pale wall. The wall possesses a captivating iridescent hue, a blend of gold and orange, shimmering under your touch. The longer your palm rests on its surface, the more intense the heat becomes. Startled, you swiftly retract your hand, cradling it against your chest, and observe with fascination as the wall gradually fades away, dissolving from your view.

"What the hell?"  Your mind is a whirlwind of confusion, unable to process the events that just unfolded. In the midst of your mental fog, a piercing creaking noise assaults your ears, reminiscent of nails scraping against a chalkboard. To your surprise, the small gap you were standing in front of seemed to be moving farther away. Panic sets in as you realize that you are being transported somewhere. Suddenly, a thunderous pounding on the door shatters the air, accompanied by blood-curdling screams that bear no resemblance to the person who was just speaking to you.   Determined, you limp towards the door, dropping to your knees in haste. "Ulysses? Ulysses!" you call out desperately, but there is only silence in response. The once familiar sounds of dripping water and the cool breeze from the draft have vanished, replaced by the antiseptic scent of bleach. As you take in your surroundings, you realize that you have been transported to an entirely different room. As you glance around, your eyes swiftly capture the sight of crimson splatters on the wall and the disarrayed gravel just a few steps from where you stand. The question lingers in your mind: had, Ulysees been in this room? You didn't want to think about it any longer. The thought becomes unbearable, prompting you to shut your eyes tightly and shield your ears with your hands, trembling against the icy touch of the door's rust.

Knock As your eyes slowly open, you find yourself reluctantly lowering your hands onto your lap. Startled by another knock, a soft stuttering hiccup escapes your body.  Filled with apprehension, you clench your fist and knock back, unsure and frightened. "Hello? Hello!" The voice that responds is higher pitched, a stark contrast to Ulysses' deep voice just minutes ago. You casually wipe your nose on your sleeve before pressing your palm against the door. "Who's there?" The only reply is a prolonged silence, then a soft shushing noise from beyond the door.

"They'll hear you if you're too loud."   The room falls silent once more before a man finally speaks up. "My name is Charles Langston." 

A storm of questions rages through your mind, desperately seeking answers. Who will hear them? What in the name of all that is holy just happened? Were you ever gonna get out of here? Nevertheless, you gather your resolve and take a deep, shuddering breath. "How long have you been here?" Your voice is barely audible as you question him from behind the heavy door.

With a soft sigh, Charles rests his head against the rusty door. He couldn't stand being asked that question because he had lost track of time; it could have been days, weeks, or even months since he arrived. The only certainty he had was that they were under constant surveillance. (Not to mention he had been stuck here for more than 13 cycles.)   Charles wasn't always alone in this room; there were two others, twins named Riley and Nick. They had stumbled upon a small hatch on the ceiling, and Riley, the brunette had successfully navigated through it. The boys were optimistic that she might uncover an escape route. They could go home! They couldn't have been more mistaken. It had been mere minutes since she entered, and now they found themselves sitting on the rough gravel floor, their hearts pounding in a frenzy. Thump, Thump, Thump, Thud.   A warm and moist substance splattered against Charles's cheek, prompting him to instinctively reach up and feel the liquid. As he pulled his hand away, his wide, terror-filled eyes beheld the scarlet blood staining his fingertips, slowly dripping down to collect in his palm. Casting his silver gaze toward the ground, he found the expression of terror and horror on Riley's head― now detached from her body― waiting for him and it filled him with revulsion.

Her head had been severed, her body was probably still lodged in the hatch, stuck. Nick's screams reverberated in the room as he clutched the head, eyes wide in horror. "No, Riley, please! Riley!" The room fell into silence as a gentle warmth enveloped his face, seeping down to his neck and chest. Nick's body slumps to the side, his head coming to a rest near Charles's feet. With a swift motion, the boy muffles his mouth with his hand, smearing the blood across his lips. He stayed quiet, retreating to the corner of the room. They were dead. “Charles? Are you still here?” The boy's eyes blinked rapidly, a clear sign of his inner turmoil as he vigorously shook his head, desperately trying to shake off the haunting thoughts. "Oh, sorry. I was just lost in my thoughts for a moment. A couple of days at least."  He lied, concealing the gruesome truth that the bodies had already begun to decay while he was still trapped in that room. The putrid stench of death lingered in the air, making it difficult for him to suppress the rising bile in his throat. He knew all too well that it took around 3-5 days for bodies to enter the decomposition stage.  And when he closed his eyes to sleep, they had vanished without a trace. Waking up to their absence brought a bittersweet mix of relief and sadness. Now, he found himself completely alone in an unfamiliar place. “I don't know how long I've been unconscious, I woke up 30 minutes ago- I'm guessing anyways.” Charles despises the silence that envelopes the room as you fall into a momentary recluse. He can’t help but scoff under his breath, reminiscing about the times he used to tell his mom how much he enjoyed the tranquility when his siblings were away. The stillness of the house provided him with the perfect environment to think and focus on his training. However, after being confined here for days on end, with only silence as his constant companion, he has grown to despise it. The quietness that once welcomed his thoughts now feels unwelcoming and suffocating. “I met someone. . .” Beyond the thick door, the person resting acted as a much-needed distraction. Your soothing voice is akin to a slow, calming stream, instilling a feeling of safety and reassurance in him. A soft hum escaped his lips, his tired eyes fluttering with fatigue. After the twins vanished from the room, it was difficult for him to sleep. "His name was Ulysses, after the room switched, I couldn't hear him anymore." Charles let the name ferment in his mind. Memories of the countless people he had encountered flooded his mind, triggering an excruciating headache that made his eyes involuntarily roll upwards. Gripping his head tightly, his body convulsed on the rough gravel, as if trying to shake off the torment. A sudden wail breaks free from his mouth, catching your attention from the opposite end of the door. Charles can make out the muted pounding of your knuckles—yet it's as if his mind is submerged in water, the sound is distant and blurred.  The images in his head are murky and jumbled, like scattered pieces trying to piece together the memory unfolding in front of him.

In the dimly lit room, Charles lay bound to a table, his eyes fixated on the mesmerizing figure that stands imposingly before him. With an otherworldly, purplish grey skin and stormy red eyes. His physique and face were nothing short of extraordinary, resembling that of the mighty Greek gods. Charles tried to listen to the man's words, but no sound seemed escaped his lips. Bound to a table, he found himself surrounded by bottles of liquid gold and burgundy red. Charles couldn't budge an inch; his limbs felt as heavy as lead. It was only upon closer inspection that he noticed the astonishing four additional arms sprouting from the man's back, a detail he had failed to mention earlier. As the man inches closer, his eyes are like a bottomless pit; devoid of any emotion, and the sight sends shivers down Charles' spine. At last, the boy begins to comprehend his words. "Check the surrounding area. Remember these five names. Velteox, Dowlat, DragonsBane, Helka, FalconsBreath. If you help my mate escape safely, I'll contemplate whether or not to kill you." The words he spoke were laced with deceit, indicating he had no qualms about the boy's fate, but Charles remained unfazed. Without warning, darkness envelops him, as the names of people he knew or had heard of flicker before his eyes, each one appearing and disappearing in rapid succession. Yet, amidst this whirlwind of names, his own is noticeably absent, like a missing puzzle piece. Riley, Ulysses, Nick, Elijah, Sophie. Charles pondered over the sequence of names, perplexed by their significance as he desperately tried to make sense of the events that had unfolded in just a matter of minutes. To his surprise, the letters composing the words started to fade away, leaving behind only the first letter of each person's name. Charles furrowed his brow, his eyes tracing the delicate, wispy blue letters that floated in front of him. However, amidst the disappearing names, a sense of unease washed over him as he noticed the absence of your name. R U N E S Recalling the man's instructions, he grimaced at the memory of the unsettling encounter. 'Scan the area. Memorize these five names: Velteox, Dowlat, DragonsBane, Helka, FalconsBreath.' But who was this 'mate' he was referring to? Charles dismissed the thought, focusing on the task at hand.

  Was it possible that the man was hinting at looking for the ancient runes in the room? Could that be the key to escaping this place? As he struggled to catch his breath, the only sound that echoed in his ears was the sound of your voice.

 “Charles?! Are you alright?”     With a trembling hand, the boy reached out to tap on the door, offering you a moment of calm. Charles lay motionless, struggling to breathe, his chest heaving with each gasp.  His eyes darted to the wall, scanning the monotonous grey surface. Suddenly, a flash of iridescent colors drew his gaze, a blend of teal and fuchsia dancing before him.  As he concentrated, the colors began to take shape. Charles was spellbound as a falcon materialized before him, wings spread wide as if soaring through the air, its beak slightly agape, and wisps of air seemingly escaping. That was it, that was the RUNE: FalconsBreath. Quickly, he scanned the wall once more, and there it was - a striking mix of green and pink hues that drew his attention. The shape extended upwards, tapering off into pointed ends. Antlers! His gaze traveled downward until it landed on the source of the movement, an elk— his eyes widened as he fought to rise to a sitting position. That was the RUNE: Helka Charles once more cast his gaze in every direction, desperately seeking any alternative emblem. His eyes moved swiftly, like a hummingbird in flight. Yet, to his dismay, there was no other iridescent color that shimmered and rippled.

He stumbled over your name slightly as he talked. Moving towards the door, he held onto the hope that his assumption was accurate. “Charles? Are you alright? What happe–”

"Sh, I'll fill you in later, but right now– do something for me. Okay?" You fell silent for a moment, and he could almost hear the cogs whirring and grinding inside your mind.

“What is it?”

With a shuddering breath, the man nervously tapped his foot, his eyes fixed on the wall behind them. "Take a glance at the wall behind you, do you notice anything shimmering?" Despite feeling somewhat ridiculous uttering those words, it was their sole hope for progress. "Charles, what's going on? Are you sure you're okay?" "Just do it! Please." After a brief pause, he picked up on the sound of your movements and then a sharp gasp. "What's happening? Did you find something?" His voice carried a sense of desperation, tinged with just a bit of hope. “It's a yellow and silver color, it's shaped oddly like an Ox?” That was it! It was the very first rune uttered by the man: Velteox. His heart leaped into action, pounding vigorously within his chest.  He wracked his brain to remember the last rune shared by the man, edging closer to the door, his body tightly pressed against the peeling rust and metal. "Good, good-" he muttered, his voice stuttering slightly as he regulated his breathing and took a long, replenishing breath.  " Look around again, do you see an owl anywhere?" He could hear your muttered frustrations, but he didn't let them get to him.

“No? I don't think so- wait- it's on the floor. It's massive. It's pink.” " You might think I've lost my mind. But trust me, I need you to press those runes, even if it seems pointless. Okay?" He sensed your skepticism, but this was the only chance they had to get out of here. After a moment of silence, you finally gave in and agreed. Charles came to a sudden halt, his eyes scanning the surroundings anxiously. Where on earth was the Dragon? Both he and you had managed to discover two of the mystical animal runes, but one remained elusive. Frustration gnawed at him as he absentmindedly chewed on his thumb, his teeth tugging at the skin. Suddenly, your voice jolted him out of his reverie, bringing him back to the present moment. “The door, the door is a dragon.” Charles moved closer to the door, a puzzled expression on his face. "What do you mean?" Silence. He reached out and touched the door, observing as small metal fragments disintegrated and fell to the ground. Brushing his hand over the pieces, he finally understood your message. The more fragments fell, the clearer the image of the Dragon became.   "Good, good, listen and follow carefully. Hold your palm on whatever animal I tell you, alright?" He could hear your voice clearer now that he was standing closer to the door. Your agreement makes his body relax and he prays that whatever he planned on doing would work. "The Ox, place your palm against it." Scrambling away from the door, you discovered the shimmering Ox rune. Upon touching it, a strange yet comforting warmth enveloped you in a welcoming embrace, unfamiliar yet reassuring. Charles called out to you, his voice resonating in the chamber. "Now, the Owl." You reluctantly pulled your hand away from the Ox and strode to the middle of the chamber. Kneeling, you pressed your hand against the Rune, feeling its intense heat. The sensation is almost unbearable, yet strangely comforting, much like the Ox. With a resolute tone, Charles uttered, "Leave the rest to me." With a heavy sigh, the boy released a deep breath and pressed his hand against the Dragon, only to feel a searing pain as it turned a deep shade of red. Reacting swiftly, he pulled his hand away and clutched it to his chest, his eyebrows furrowing and a groan escaping his lips. Taking cautious steps backward, he pivoted on the balls of his feet until he spotted the Elk. Still wary of the previous encounter, he extended his other hand with trepidation, relieved when it didn't burn.  Charles's lips thinned as he closed his eyes, silently uttering a prayer. He desperately hoped that he hadn't given you false hope about their chances of escaping this place. Gathering his resolve, he approached the Falcon and hesitantly laid his hand upon it. 

   Nothing. With a deep frown, the boy dropped to his knees, realizing that escape was impossible. He had deceived you, leading you to believe that the RUNES held the key to their escape. Lost in self-blame, Charles remained oblivious to the door opening noiselessly, despite its rusty state. As you stood up from the floor, tears welled up in your eyes, causing your vision to blur. "Charles?"  His appearance matched the vulnerability in his voice- a bit scrawny with untidy brown hair and clothing. Startled, he tensed and turned his head, his eyes widening as tears also clouded his sight. From a simple walk, it swiftly evolved into a brisk jog and then escalated into an exhilarating sprint as you tackled him into a warm embrace. With a soft thud, he collided against the wall, but he didn't let go, instead, he tightly wrapped his arms around you. He whispered your name softly, his voice tinged with disbelief as if he couldn't fathom the reality of you being there beside him.

 With a nod, you stepped back. Meeting him in person was an exhilarating experience, as he was the first person you had encountered face to face. "I can't believe it, I'm here," you exclaimed. Before he could utter a word, a piercing, high-pitched creak echoed through the room, resembling the grating sound of nails on a chalkboard. Once again, you found yourselves rotating. In response, both of you huddled closer together, holding your breaths in anticipation.  It seemed like an eternity before the rotation finally halted.     You found yourselves in a fresh room, facing a new door that was starkly different from the old rusty metal one. This door was a deep black, standing out against the now-white walls. Charles confidently got up, leaving you behind as he made his way to the door. You shook your head, inching away. There was something about that door that felt familiar. The sensation it evoked was akin to the Runes you had handled earlier – a mixture of warmth and safety, but with a subtle tinge of danger. Your mind was flooded with warning signals, urging you to proceed with caution. "Wait, Charles!" The door felt familiar to Charles. It was reminiscent of the Dragon Rune he had encountered. Aware of its perilous nature, he still yearned to be back with his loved ones. With determination, he twisted the doorknob, causing the lock to click open, revealing a dark corridor. Charles huffed out and smiled, casting a glance in your direction. "See? It's fine, let's g-." Warmth splattered across your face, sullied your hair, drenched your clothes, and colored your left eye. Charles collapsed to the ground, his knees hitting the gravel loudly and his body lurching forward. His head rolled towards you, still spurting out blood. Your eyes widened, mouth agape as you locked eyes with Charles' head. You could do nothing but sit there, heart pumping a mile a second and breath faltering. There was a scream lodged in your throat, wanting to escape but too scared to even attempt. "Charles?" The enclosure trembled under the weight of heavy footsteps, but you were too terrified to even move, horrified at the death of Charles. Something monstrous crouched to enter the doorway, large and muscled, with grey-tinged skin and husks protruding from its mouth. "I apologize deeply for the delay My Lady, I pray to the Demon Lord for your forgiveness." it rumbled, dropping to its knees and inadvertently crushing what was left of Charles. Blood splattered the walls as you lost consciousness, your eyes fluttered and then rolled to the back of your head. The Beast's eyes widened and he rose from his position, and with two large steps, he was able to pick you up, nestling you within his arms. He looked down at the head that rested just a few feet away from you and sneered. "Farlila filth." With your well-being as his top priority, he swiftly exited the room and embarked on a journey down the seemingly endless hallway. "Letter Master Ulysses, we have the Queen."

Watching your lashes quiver and your nose twitch, the woman sees your eyes open, squint, and then close once more. With a gentle smile, she approaches you.  "Good Evening, My Lady, my name is Elmira De Brawnheller, it is an honor to serve as your personal maid." In an instant, your eyes spring open, and you hastily retreat to the far end of the bed, putting some distance between you and the mysterious woman. "Who are you? Where am I?" you blurt out, your voice filled with a mix of confusion and alarm. The woman's smile widens as she gracefully takes a step back, revealing her identity. "Allow me to introduce myself, I am Elmira De Brawnheller, the esteemed head maid and your personal servant. As for your current whereabouts, you are in the second bedroom of the illustrious Vempes Palace, under the watchful eye of the Master." Vempes Palace, what the hell was that? Where the hell was that? And could you get home from there?  You rise from the bed with a puzzled expression, "Where exactly is Vempes Palace? I just want to go home." Elmira's mouth contorts into a frown. "Vempes Palace is situated in the Lomaliue Region, under the dominion of the Master." As she explained, you seized the opportunity to dash towards the door, escaping while Elmira observed you with concern in her eyes. "Madam! Please don't sprint in the corridors! You might harm yourself!" Paying no heed to her caution, you yanked the door open and veered right, your feet moving silently on the luxurious velvet floor.  Your head swiveled back and forth, searching for an alternate corridor to explore, gliding past other women dressed as maids. Elmira, who follows behind you, casually waves the women away, silently telling them to leave you be, before continuing her trek. She gasps softly when you crash roughly into Ghallahan, hitting the floor with a thump. The knight immediately drops to his knees, hands hovering over your body. "M-my Lady, I didn't see you, I apologize for my lack of attention, please, punish me." You shuffle back from him quickly, bumping into Elmira behind you. The woman grabs your hand and pulls you up. "My Lady, I understand that you're confused, I know that you would like to go home, but this isn't a discussion you should be having with us– rather the Lord of this palace." You pull away from her, standing sandwiched between the two of them. "Where is he? The one who kidnapped me–." You whirl around to face Ghallahan, the pieces of your memory falling into place, "You murdered Charles."  Elmira furrows her brow. "My Lady, Master is the one who rescued you, once someone enters The Rotation Chamber, it's nearly impossible to escape." Your face twists into one of confusion, your little human heart pumping a mile a minute. Elmira, sensing your turmoil, wraps an arm around you and steers you back in the direction of your room. "Let's wait for Master to get back, I'm sure he'll explain everything." Elmira doesn't mind your lack of answer, just smiles at Knight Ghallahan and leads you inside the room.

As Elmira skillfully weaves your hair into intricate plaits, you find yourself lost in a trance while gazing into the mirror. The elegant dress drapes your figure in a long, pristine white, gently cascading down but still clinging gracefully to your curves. Its fabric is almost translucent, yet you observe how it magically transforms into a denser material, cleverly concealing your bosom and lower body.     "Elmira, when will he get here?" The lady softly hums as she delicately places a diamond-encrusted pin in your hair. "Master will be back later today following the triumphant plunder of the Esdeath Organization and Rotation Chamber. You are requested to join him for dinner." Your time at Vempes Palace has been just shy of two weeks, with Elmira and the perpetually flustered Ghallahan being your main companions. The luxurious lifestyle, the constant pampering, and the extravagant meals are things you have yet to embrace. In truth, you find it all quite distasteful.

 "What is he like?" Elmira, surprised at your question, sucks her teeth softly and stops her movements, a small smile gracing her lips. "Master is warm, reliable, fair, understanding, and above all else, honorable." Your eyes find her face from the mirror and you notice the wispy look of recalling on her face. However, her sudden change in demeanor leaves you puzzled as she mentions, "Nonetheless, Master is not very communicative, and tends to take a lot upon himself." You grunt softly in acknowledgment and drop your eyes down to your lap, your hands laying bunched together, wrist adorned with pearls and other small dainty jewelry. Elmira's voice startles you as she speaks again and you look up. "While Master may appear distant and aloof, My Lady, please know that he would never do anything to hurt you. He values your happiness above all else and would never do anything that goes against your desires. " A scoff escapes you involuntarily. "But here I am, trapped against my will, and utterly bored." The sentence is muttered under your breath, but Elmira, a feline demon, catches every word and her lips tug into a gentle frown.   Without fail, you begrudgingly adhere to the same monotonous routine every day at Vempes Castle. Get up. Have breakfast. Bathe. Explore the greenhouse. Listen (albeit unwillingly) to Ghallahan's war stories. Enjoy some tea. Dinner. Sleep. "Is there a library?" A spark of enthusiasm ignites in Elmira's eyes as your question reaches her ears. It's not often that you seek anything while under her watchful care, and so her surprise quickly transforms into pure elation. "Of course My Lady, Shall I be your escort?" She does her best to conceal her immense happiness, relieved that you're slowly but surely finding comfort within the grandeur of the palace.

You can't help the delicate smile that touches your lips at her enthusiasm. "Yes, please Elmira." If you were going to be here for a little bit, you might as well enjoy the small things you loved while being in your world— or were you still in your world? It didn't matter, you enjoyed reading books and would do so now. Elmira steps away from your seated position and you rise from the white chair, glad that she had put you in flats rather than heels. Despite your involuntary confinement, you find yourself growing closer to Elmira as you intertwine your arm with hers.   Elmira, the head maid, has a unique way of guiding you through the castle. Instead of leading from the front, she walks beside you, subtly influencing your path while respecting the hierarchy. (Though seeing as Elmira was the head maid, she had a bit of leeway. ) Despite your protests about the rigid rules and your lack of royal status, Elmira remains firm. The walk isn't too long, it passes by as you take in the castle decor while stopping to politely greet the servants and knights ( who always take their job a bit too seriously by dropping to their knees, leaving you to fuss to Elmira all the while helping them up from the floor). 

 The two of you stop in front of a large pitch-black door that stretches high to the ceiling. The doorknob, on the other hand, gleams with a pristine silver hue. Elmira notices the awe in your eyes and takes a step back, releasing her hold on your arms. "This is as far as I go, My Lady. Servants are not allowed inside of the Library." Your eyebrows knit together and your lips form a cute pout, reflecting your disappointment. "Well then, let's find something else to do," you suggest. The feline demon shakes her head and gracefully bows to you, a knowing smile gracing her features. "I'll be waiting just outside if you require my assistance," she assures you. Her voice urges you to enter, and with a hint of reluctance, you grasp the handle and gently push open the surprisingly light door.

  The moment you step into the room, the cozy atmosphere embraces you. The library is like a sanctuary of knowledge, adorned with an assortment of books, maps, globes, and charming trinkets. With a soft thud, the door closes behind you, undeterred, you venture deeper into the library, twirling in awe. "Oh my goodness, this is incredible!" you whisper in disbelief. Your fingertips glide along the dusty railing, leaving a trail in the layers of cobwebs. Your immediate thought is to find a book about the language spoken here. While Elmira and Ghallahan are fluent in your language, the majority of the staff communicate in a foreign tongue, unfamiliar to your world.

With narrowed eyes, you scan the area for the elusive letter 'L', carefully descending the stairs to expand your field of vision. A spark of excitement ignites within you as the golden letter finally comes into sight. However, instead of rushing towards it, you take a leisurely approach, exploring the room and daring to touch forbidden objects along the way. Eventually, you arrive at the bookshelf, and your quest is met with instantaneous success. Lomaliue, the name Elmira had mentioned, is the place where you were held captive. Lomaliue Region. Your fingers glide gently over the book spines, but alas, your efforts prove fruitless.   A frown creases your brow as you raise your gaze, your eyes eagerly scanning the shelves until they alight upon it—just beyond your reach. You spot a ladder nearby and with a determined grip, you tug it towards you, grappling with its weight. After positioning it perfectly, you embark on the climb, your legs trembling and your annoyance growing at the impractical length of your dress. Finally, you come to a halt at the 7th shelf, clutching the ladder with unwavering strength, leaning in to retrieve the book that had ensnared your attention.

 "Aha! Lomaliue Language and History."

At the sound of your sudden exclamation and excitement, your grip on the ladder momentarily slackens, causing you to sway backward. Your eyes widen in alarm as you frantically wave your arms in an attempt to regain your balance. "Whoa, whoa, oh shit." The ladder starts to tip backward, now standing upright away from the shelf, leaving you flailing in mid-air as you struggle to lean it back against the shelf. "E-Elmira!" Your heart pounds in your chest as you finally steady yourself against the bookshelf. However, the impact of your landing causes the bookshelf to come crashing down, taking you along for the ride.

You squeeze your eyes tightly shut, preparing for a jarring collision, but it never happens. Instead, you experience a sensation of weightlessness, as if gliding through the air. You cautiously open one eye, then the other, feeling a surge of tension as you realize you are indeed floating. Before you know it, you and the bookshelf both touch down on the ground. 

 "You're quite the clumsy one." A shudder travels down your spine and to the tips of your toes, sending goosebumps to trail up your arms. The voice, deep and velvety, lacks any emotion yet feels strangely familiar. There's an elusive quality to it, hinting at hidden secrets just beneath the surface. Inside the dimly lit library, your eyes dart nervously from shelf to shelf, desperately trying to locate the source. You take a step back, your heart pounding in your chest, only to collide with an unseen obstacle behind you. Your panic-stricken eyes find nothing, and as your breath catches, you reluctantly close your eyes. With trembling legs and an urgent need to relieve your bladder (because, let's be honest, you were on the verge of peeing yourself), you turn around and come face to face with... another bookshelf.   Placing your hand on your chest, you let out a sigh of relief, even though the danger wasn't completely gone - the person was still lurking in the library. Gritting your teeth, you gather your dress and take a deep breath, determined to make a break for it. Grateful for your choice of flats, you sprint off, book clutched tightly in your hand.  You swear you hear a chuckle of amusement behind you, but frankly? You did not give a flying fuck. Reaching the entrance in record time, you push open the door and collide with a surprised Elmira, who embraces you. Finally feeling safe, you relax in her arms and exhale deeply.

Just for a moment, she looks surprised before breaking into a smile. But that smile doesn't last long once she catches sight of the book you're holding. She's quite the expert at changing moods, isn't she? "Ah, My Lady, books within the Library must st-." She pauses abruptly, her gaze shifting to the Library doors closing behind you. Her demeanor changes once more, a grin returning to her face. "Forget about that, let's head to the greenhouse instead." You put on a smile and nod, following her lead, but you steal a glance over your shoulder and catch sight of a pair of warm, glowing eyes right before the door closes. Is it possible? You shake your head in disbelief and continue walking with Elmira.

As you step into the Greenhouse, a wave of familiar scents engulfs you - the sweet fragrance of honeysuckle and lilacs. It's as if the air itself is whispering tales of home, tugging at your heartstrings. You can't help but feel a pang of longing for the place that seems to be slipping further away with each passing day. Deep down, you sense that this sanctuary might become your new haven.  Elmira, the ever-silent companion, offers no false promises or illusions of this castle "Master" taking you home, she didn't delude you with hope.   Outside, darkness encroaches, but within the Greenhouse, an eternal sunshine prevails. The birds, their cheerful chirping filling the air, find solace in the majestic tree that stands tall at the center. Butterflies gracefully flutter about, their delicate wings brushing against the vibrant flowers that adorn the winding paths. Here, all sounds are hushed, as if the world itself has taken a pause. This sanctuary, your sanctuary, offers respite from the monotony of the castle. And Elmira, as always, stands ready to lend her silent support, should you choose to accept it.

As you make your way towards the cozy seating area (thoughtfully installed after your request to have a spot to sit outside.) you sink into the cushions and lean back, pulling the book out from under your arm. With a gentle tilt, you position it to bask in the shade provided by the branches and leaves above. Here you are, sitting beneath the trees, engrossed in the stolen treasure from the Library. Yet, in reality, you are captivated by the soothing melody of the babbling brook flowing behind the Greenhouse. This enchanting spot has become your refuge within the castle, and with each passing day, you find yourself drawn to it even more. What a truly magnificent place it is. In all honesty, there's no need to be scared of this place. They weren't doing anything to harm you. You were fed when you were hungry, given a hot bath (though it would be better if you could clean yourself) this beautiful Greenhouse— you wouldn't count the haunted Library, that place was out of the picture and Elmira— yeah you'd count her. But aside from the bathing situation, it wasn't all that terrible. You weren't naive (maybe a few missing brain cells, but...), you knew there was no way out even if you wanted to leave. Where would you even go? You had no idea of your location or what lay beyond, but for now, you were safe. Still, you couldn't help but miss your phone and movies.

 "Why are you so scared?" You halt what you're doing and lift your gaze, seeing as you had said the question out loud. The inquiry hits you like a punch to your chest, leaving you momentarily speechless. 'Maybe because I'm surrounded by monsters, have no way of getting home, and I'm trapped here.' However, what awaited you upon your return home? Was it a distant family? A physically demanding nursing job that left you exhausted, or the monotonous routine of eating ramen noodles and hot dogs for every meal? Maybe it was the solemn reminder of your dog's ashes. Your life may have been a complete mess, but it was undeniably yours. With the book placed delicately on your chest, its Lomaliue text unintelligible to you, you close your eyes and surrender to the soothing symphony of the Greenhouse. Its harmonious melodies embrace you, guiding you into a tranquil sleep.

  "Cold." 

  When he arrives to fetch you, your voice is soft, sweet, and still heavy with sleep. Elmira, unable to bring herself to disturb your much-needed rest, alerts the Master of the castle instead. He pays no mind to the fact that you had essentially missed meeting him for the first time and had exited the Library to bring you back to your room. Elmira observes as he carefully removes the book from your chest, stooping down to admire your delicate features and the slight drool escaping your lips. His chuckle holds small traces of humor and is almost carried away by the wind. Retrieving the stolen book, he sets it aside and lifts you effortlessly into his arms, like you weighed nothing but a feather. Turning to Elmira, he nods, "You're dismissed for tonight, 'Mira. Thank you." With a bow of her head, the feline demon watches him depart, her hands tightly intertwined in worry. She knows all too well that Master would never bring harm to the Lady, but her concern for the poor girl lingers.   As you gradually awaken, your eyes flutter open, clouded with sleep and fatigue. Your head and cheek find solace against a comforting warmth, while the hands that gently grasp your thighs and curl beneath your back make you feel as though you've awakened in the heavenly realm. 

Their voice, with its deep resonance, melts you into a warm, sticky puddle. It's velvety and profound, similar to before but with an added allure. "Sleep, little human, I've forgotten just how weak your kind is." Despite the urge to take offense, there's no malice in his words, just a simple observation.   But who is carrying you now? It's not Elmira or Ghallhan. Before you can even ponder further, his voice soothes you once more. "You're thinking too much, calm down." Oddly enough, his words bring a sense of comfort, even though they shouldn't. ( probably because you were half asleep. ) Your soft, drool-coated cheek rests back against his chest and your eyes flutter ( and scarily roll back ) shut. Back into sleep.

Waking up from your deep sleep, it feels like an eternity before you manage to crack your eyes open. Stretching your body like a lithe feline, you let out a small groan. The room is bathed in a soft moonlight glow, indicating that you haven’t been asleep for too long. Without much time to observe your surroundings, a deep, tranquil voice suddenly speaks.

  "You're awake, good."

A tremble races down your body and you hop out of the bed, crumpling to the floor in a heap. You whine at the pain but you quickly refocus your attention, scanning the room with wide eyes before stopping, finding it- him? Sitting there. His skin is a deep purple-grey, his features sharp, eyes narrow, and gaze like an empty void, which contrasted with his dark red eyes that appeared almost bloody. His ears are pointed, and his muscular frame seems to take up the whole room. Wait, are those four additional arms?

     "Who the hell are you?! Elmira!" With an exasperated sigh, the man's eyes rolled dismissively as he got up from his chair, casually tossing a bundle of documents onto the table. "Elmira won't be around tonight. You'll have to wait until morning to see her," he stated matter-of-factly. He watched as his firey little human mate stumbled backward, nearly tripping in her haste. 

 What a clumsy little thing she was.

     "You didn't answer my question." You bite out. "Why should I?” He observes you intently as you struggle to respond, but his teasing expression softens as tears begin to form in your eyes. Stepping towards you, he tilts his head slightly as you take a step back, his flowing black hair framing his face."I am the sovereign of this realm, of this dreary fortress. You may call me Ulysses."   Ulysses nearly breaks into a grin as your eyebrows knit together, a look of recognition washing over your eyes before being replaced by bewilderment. "N-no, that can't be right." The voice you recalled was gentle, and comforting. His, however, was anything but. .

.

.

“Who are you?” Instantly, you blurt out your name, your lips cracked and dry. “What about you?” The room falls silent, only the sound of water droplets can be heard. Doubt creeps in and you worry if they are somehow involved in your predicament. Suddenly, a calm, reassuring voice responds, releasing the tension from your body, the cold racking a shudder through your spine. “Ulysses” 

.

.

.   Despite his apparent indifference to whether you believed him or not, he takes a step closer, and this time, you stand your ground. Swallowing thickly you lift your chin in defiance and glare, you didn't care if he was The Pope, or hell Barack Obama. "Why am I here? I want to go home." Ulysses clasps his hands behind his back and lifts his gaze to your gown, noticing how the fabric that would usually hide your perky breast is bunched and amiss, from your bizarre sleeping patterns and abrupt fall from the bed. This reveals your enticing round areolas, a detail that might have gone unnoticed had he been a mere mortal. With a voice that exudes honesty and is devoid of deceit, he delivers a harsh reality that you struggle to accept. "Nothing is awaiting you there, no family who truly cares," he states matter-of-factly. The fact that your vanishing in the upper realm didn't even cause a ripple in their lives is unfathomable. Filled with disbelief and anger, you take a determined step forward, challenging his words. "You're lying!" He moves closer, his aura enveloping you, causing your skin to tingle like static electricity. "Why would I deceive you? Tell me, ao bewl ¹, if I were to send you back home, what would be your next move? Missing a month of work has made you lose your job." ( my love ) ¹   Ulysses observes the way your pretty eyes widen, mouth gapes open, eyebrows twitch, and doubt fills your gaze.  "A month? I've only been here for two weeks." Is that why Elmira seemed to skip the conversation when you asked about how many days you had been here? ( Instead from then on, you started to just count the days when you woke up. )     "Time seems to slip away faster than you can fathom, little human." His eyes flicker down to his wrist, stealing a glance at his watch. Pivoting on the balls of his feet, he looks back at his petite "captive" and suggests, "When you feel ready, Elmira will guide you downstairs for breakfast. Take a little more time to rest." Even with the lack of response he takes his leave.      Your trembling bottom lip and the pressure of your nails digging into your palms reveal your distress. Why is this misfortune befalling you? What have you done to deserve it? You have always been compassionate, kind, and patient. How could you have possibly erred in your short existence? Suddenly, the sound of raindrops dancing outside grabs your attention. The balcony doors grant you a front-row view of the natural world, and you yearn to immerse yourself in its wonders. With a heavy heart, you rise to your feet and reluctantly make your way towards the doors. As you forcefully pull them open, the cool air and gentle raindrops caress your face and skin. You find solace as you lower yourself onto the concrete, resting your head against your folded knees, and allowing your eyes to flutter shut.

[isjasz]

[Day 47]

Closing note (A ship is very burnable)

Part 1

[pinkinsect]

<-

canon-atypical emotional vulnerability

[horygory]

When Evil Lurks (2023)

[diabolicphallus666]

SATAN TRIUMPHS OVER THE FALSE BLIND GOD OF NAZARENE! FUCK YOU XRISTCUNT FILTH! LAY IN THE TRENCHES OF COAGULATING BLOOD WITH YOUR WORTHLESS DIETIES OF ABRAHAM!

FUCK THE SCREAMING FOLLOWERS DEVOTED TO THE RIGHT HAND PATH! THOSE WHO STAND AGAINST SATAN EMBODIMENT OF ABYSS! ALL THOSE WHITE MASSES WRITHING LIKE MAGGOTS IN THE FOUL STENCH AND THE ROTTING FLESH OF THEIR WASTED TRINITY! AS THE LAST ANGELS WEEP UPON THE BLOODSTAINED FLOORS OF HEAVENS DESTRUCTION!

AVE HVHI SATHANAS

YID CHUS MUN NAG LAM SETAN

TASA REME LARIS SATAN

IŌ ERBETH

IŌ PAKERBETH

IŌ BOLCHOLOSETH

Rise Brothers & Sisters of the Dark Satanic Path, feed your inner Black Flame as we rise anew into the Black Awakening of SATAN!!!!!!

(artist unknown)