#also you get to play as demon lady

[jeff-from-marketing]

I just want to use this as an opportunity to tell people that Metal: Hellsinger exists, and it fucks.

For the uninitiated, it's a rhythm based first person shooter. Which, admittedly, does sound like a rather strange genre combo at first. But holy shit it works. Heck, people already praise games like Doom for their soundtrack, and a well made shooter already has its own form of internal rhythm to it, so why not just crank it up to 11?

A well made Rhythm game is already suited to putting you in a sort of "zen" mode, where you're not strictly thinking about what's going on, but you sure as hell are riding that wave to its full extent. Combine that with a soundtrack that really just is a love letter to all things metal, and some hells to shoot demons in, and you've got a recipe for a very fun time. Getting into the perfect rhythm with the pistols (or your own weapon of choice really) and just laying waste to all in your way all while the music gets more and more intense the more you slay is a truly wonderful experience.

There's really not much else like it either. There's BPM: Bullets Per Minute, and that is still a lot of fun, but IMO Metal: Hellsinger takes it to a new level. But outside those two games, there's really not much like it, and that helps make Hellsinger truly something special.

I only have two complaints with Metal: Hellsinger.

I need more. The campaign is fairly short, and I want more levels. It's not unsatisfyingly short though, it's like Titanfall 2 in that regard.

I need to buy the soundtrack officially. It well and truly is a love letter to all things metal (honestly the whole game is, it's great) and it has a lot of my favourite artists on there, and I need to inject it my soul. It is criminal that this is only available unofficially through other people uploading it.

Unrelated sidenote: I blame this game entirely for the voice I use with one of my Pathfinder characters. The narrator has a very infectious voice.

[starlitshoals]

im not even gonna add a 'hear me out' you have no choice but to hear my words.

[volucerrubidus]

[okay this is only partially dc related so sorry but one of these days i'm gonna convince folks to interact with my kof muses in a dc/kof crossover....]

[tossawary]

Rewatched the Howl's Moving Castle movie (fantastic animated movie, definitely inspired by more than an adaptation of the book) while doing something else and I was struck this time by the fact that the Prince (Turniphead the Scarecrow) says that he intends to go tell his king to call off the war, but THEN he intends on COMING BACK to Ingary to shoot his shot with Sophie again because (as he says to the flirtatious Witch of the Wastes) "hearts change".

And maybe he will come back to make Sophie an offer of marriage and then leave again when he's turned down, but I imagined for a moment that the Prince (who is possibly the movie's version of Prince Justin, so let's call him Justin) might just... move back into Howl's house without asking and stay there. There are several cases of precedent for this. Also, as Turniphead, he's shown several times helping Sophie with laundry, or playing with Markl, or helping the Witch of the Wastes move around, and Sophie deserves that kind of help around the house! Howl isn't going to reliably do chores.

And you know what? I think Howl would be into that shit. There's something very Wynne-Jonesian about it all still. It's tempting to write a post-canon fic about this situation from the movie with an extra dash of flavoring from the books. Like:

This is the infamous wizard Howl Pendragon/Jenkins, a vain draft-dodging flirt who likes to build moving castles to evade taxes too. The beautifully angry young woman with the silver hair over there is his wife, Sophie Hatter, who may or may not be an extremely powerful witch, but right now she's dusting and do not get in her way. This is Calcifer, the fire demon who used to have Howl's heart and is arguably his other life partner and also might be in love with Sophie, and this is arguably kind of actually his house. The old lady smoking a cigar over there is Howl's ex-girlfriend and former nemesis, the Witch of the Wastes, who now lives in their house. This is Markl, Howl's apprentice, kind of his kid, and there is no explanation of where he comes from or what happened to his parents. The dog used to be(?) the Royal Wizard's spy (Howl used to be her apprentice and potential successor) but now he also just lives here. And that's Prince Justin of Strangia, Sophie's house-boyfriend. Don't listen to the propaganda, he wasn't kidnapped by a heart-eating wizard; he used to be a cursed scarecrow and now he wants to be here to help Sophie do laundry. He's trying to homewreck and Howl thinks it's both funny and hot.

[recreationalfanfics]

"What A Beautiful Family!"

In which you get confused for being a family

Rengoku:

- It happens during a trip to the store in town with his little brother. Maybe it was to restock groceries or maybe it was buying supplies for his next demon conquest, either way: all three of you went down to visit.

- Rengoku smiled softly at you as he watched you with his little brother, holding his hand and laughing with Senjuro and occasionally lifting him up and spinning around.

- At some point during the walk, Senjuro pointed at some birds flying in the tree and begged Kyojuro for a closer look, which Kyojuro happily allowed him to do and put him on his shoulders with a big smile. You helped Senjuro steady himself and laughed at how precious the two looked.

- As Senjuro and Kyojuro debated about what kind of birds they were, you couldn't help but look at Kyojuro with nothing less than love in your eyes and a fond smile.

- "Aw, how precious!" a woman walking past with a basket filled with baked goods cooed at you three, "I'm glad even with demons terrorizing us, people can still have moments like this. Here, have some!"

- At first you tried to decline out of embarrassment but Kyojuro humbly took them and gave one to Kyojuro and handed a pastry to you. You were hesitant but then you took it and graciously thanked the lady, "but also, I feel bad for not paying for these, ma'am. Please, let me-"

- "Don't you worry about it. A beautiful family like you should enjoy a good snack on such a lovely day, especially since your husband's a hashira."

- Rengoku opened his mouth to let out a hearty "TASTY!" but stopped himself halfway when he heard that. You just stared at the lady in flustered shock as she bowed her head and walked away.

- You and Kyojuro shared a look with each other, Kyojuro giving you a nervous yet wide grin and you returned it. Both of your faces felt warm and you were barely able to hold eye contact with each other.

- "Haha, that lady thought you were (Y/n)'s husband! Isn't that funny, big brother?" and Rengoku's gaze softens as you become timid and look down at your feet, "Yes...I suppose it is, Kyojuro."

Tengen:

- You were walking with Tengen and his wives, happy to see him a bit more after his retirement, when you stumbled upon three neighboring children, who played too roughly and were crying their eyes out about it.

- You and Hinatsuru helped them while Suma tried not to cry with the two boys but offered to help and Makio awkwardly tried to calm them down. Tengen just squatted down and told them that it wasn't very flashy to cry, which made you and Hina elbow him.

- Instead of getting more upset, however, all three boys became excited and seemed to recgonize Tengen, asking him if he was the sound Hashira, which seemed to greatly inflate his ego as he said: "Yes but I am also the God of Festivals!"/ "WOW! REALLY!?"

- You and his wives exchanged glances knowing he wouldn't shut up. When they asked if he could tell him a story of the demons he fought, he tried to be all: "Oh, it might be too scary for you kids...BUT WHAT THE HECK- So I was in the Entertainment District which is filled with prost-"/ "UZUI."/ "IT'S IMPORTANT TO THE STORY."

- Anyways, after some censoring, each boy found a home in your lap, Suma's lap, and another sat on Hinatsuru's but leaned their head on Makio's arm. All of you entranced by Tengen's storytelling and prescence.

- "Haha, such an energetic father. Those boys are definetly gonna grow up strong!"/ "I wonder which of those women are his wife?"/ "From the way they're looking at him, all four, probably."

- Tengen's voice suddenly stopped, most likely because he heard what they said, but instead of correcting him, his eyes landed on you. You could feel Hina's, Suma's, and Makio's gaze on you as well and you felt timid...but not uncomfortable. His lips upturned into a smirk and you felt yourself trying to look at ANYWHERE but the attractive faces that were staring at you.

- "Well, what happened next!?" One of the boys demanded, impatient from the cliff hanger.

- "Huh- Oh, right! Anyways, this demon CAME OUT and he was UGLY. Absolutely hideous, like a monster that crawled from under your bed-"

- When the boys finally were called home, you all waved goodbye and parted ways. Leaving you alone with the retired Hashira and his wives, you didn't say anything but the energy felt different as Suma clung to your arm and Tengen walked closer to you, Makio's eyes would stray towards you but timidly look away when you caught her gaze as Hina wished this walk would last forever. Just the five of you.

[hotheadedhero]

Like 'em Big

AN: I have so many stories to write but I had to do this. Blaming being sick, m'kay? Fever has got me bad and these meds got me loopy. Thinking we need some good, silly fun in our lives, right? Plus, now that I've watched Rise, I'm hungry for some big Raph appreciation. I know I ain't the only one

Part 2

All characters are aged up

Raphael x Reader

Warnings: near peril, easily smitten, possible errors due to fever (what kind of fever is up for deliberation🥴)

Cutting right to the chase. You like big dudes. That doesn't necessarily mean muscles, either. You just love you a big man - someone with a bit of something-something to them. More to love, you know? Given your track record with the greater world, it shouldn't be all that much of a mystery. Cats? Get yourself a tiger that you can cuddle into. Jumpers? Comfort central, baby. Beds? If you can't spread eagle then you see no point. The old-age saying does declare that the bigger the better, so who are you to disagree? How true that is may be up for debate but it’s merely as simple as understanding what your preferences are.

However, this makes dating a difficult ballpark to play in. No matter how tall, jacked, or voluptuous someone is, it never feels like enough. Human biology and genetics can only go so far in the conceivably possible sense. You just want to be absolutely engulfed when you get a hug. Is that such a crime? Apparently, it is. Unfortunately, you also seem to come across the worst jerks when you attempt to date within this set of criteria. One might argue it's your karmic justice for being so superficial and picky but a woman has needs. Not those kinds of needs, either. Get your head out of the gutter.

All hope seems lost and after yet again, another failed date, you decide to call it in for the evening and make your way home. A fresh failure and another wonderful outfit gone to waste. By no means is it anything flashy but you put a lot of work into it: pencil skirt, turtle neck sweater, and a nice pair of boots to compliment the look. The whole shebang! All of that effort for nothing. This is the last time you spend three hours doing your hair and makeup. Block after block, your feet grow heavier with every step. What you would give to come across a mountain-like man you can climb who is also a kindred spirit. Perhaps this dream guy will forever be that - a dream. Men like that don't just fall out of the sky.

"Look out!!"

The sudden shout almost scares you into tripping over and you look behind yourself, wishing you hadn’t. Two very large, very dangerous-looking figures entangled in battle, those of which are approaching your helpless little self. You quickly duck as the giants hurdle over you. One falls on its side whilst the other claws and skids against the ground, regaining its balance. It shakes its head and locks onto you, a guttural snarl rumbling past its jowls. Such a creature is surely from the stuff of nightmares. An indescribable nightmare whose sights are set on you. The smart option would be running away but it's as though your shoes have melted into the pavement. Pawing into the tarmac, the beastly thing growls and lunges for you. Great. This is how you die: torn limb from limb by a demon dog. Well, assuming your clothes join you, at least you’ll look like a total babe in the afterlife.

"Oh no ya’ don't," the other one yells from behind the predator, grabbing it by its tail. “Pretty ladies are not food!”

With a mighty tug, he pulls it back and swings it as far away from you as possible. You release a shaky breath, legs trembling beneath you. That was far too close for comfort. The fight isn’t quite over, however. Just as it approaches him, the green goliath swivels on his feet, full 180, and whacks the creature's jaw with a closed fist. His speed alone has you in awe but the force is astounding, practically earth-shattering. It completely knocks the air around you and pushes you onto your backside.

When the dust clears, the first thing you see is your saviour panting, his spiky shell(?) pointed towards you. Just past him in the distance, you notice three more figures in blue, purple, and orange taking a closer look at the unconscious tyrant. You swear one of them pokes at it with a stick. Witnessing strange beings such as this isn't entirely new. Anyone who's watched Chateau Pretenche knows about the celebrity chef turning into a grotesque pigman. To describe it in one word? Horrifying. It's just whether people choose to believe it genuinely happened or if these bizarre entities exist. Being up close and personally observing it now puts your scepticism in check.

As the humanoid turtle calms, he turns to face you, recapturing your attention. A red mask sits over his eyes and there’s a noticeable snaggle tooth poking past his upper lip. Typically, the prerogative is keeping out of sight but it’s much too late for that. He gradually advances towards you. You watch him warily and he keeps his movements slow for that very reason. It wouldn’t be a shock if you were to try and make an escape. He wouldn’t blame you. Currently, all he wants to do is make sure you weren’t hurt during that fiasco provided you don’t suddenly come out of your bewilderment and run off. You have good reason to but he just saved you. Either that or he’s as ravenous as that beast and wants you all to himself. The irrational conclusion remains as such - irrational - when he descends to one knee and outstretches a hand. There’s an irrefutable kindness in his eyes; a caring nature that can’t be replicated in the face of savage brutes.

"You okay?" he asks.

You continue to gawk without a word but, bit by bit, you reach out for his offer. Your fingers lightly trace the centre of his palm before comfortably trusting the proposal. His hand engulfs yours completely and Raph hopes to mercy that you don’t realise how sweaty he’s getting. He can feel his heart beating like crazy. He wonders how much of that is the adrenaline from the fight and how much of it is being in the presence of such a beautiful gal. As he helps you to your feet, he rises to his own. Someone of his stature shouldn’t be capable of being this delicate but he is. It has you running through a loop and you unintentionally stare at the remarkable behemoth.

Quite pathetically, you nod, unable to verbally respond to his question. How can you? You are effectively starstruck. Once you gloss over the turtle-y features, all you see is the sheer size of him as he towers over you. Height, width, the magnitude of those arms! All of it is glorious. You can hear the universe asking, “You want a big man, huh? How about one who isn’t human?” to which you answer, “Who gives a damn?”. If the only way a man can be this big is not to be human, so be it.

Amidst a whisper, your mouth moves on its own, "You're beautiful."

"What?"

"Huh?" Blinking out of your trance, you realise what you’ve said and giggle sheepishly, "I mean, you're be... ba... booming! Totally awesome with the whole- uh... saving thing." Nailed it. 

He blinks right back down at you. This is certainly a first. He can feel his face heating up and he withdraws his hand lest you endure the wrath of his bashfulness, opting to hold the back of his head. At this moment, he seems to look anywhere but you.

"Heh. Gee, thanks." His humility is adorable and you’re glad he doesn’t question your initial statement. He turns to you once more, regaining some composure. "You sure you're okay, though? That thing was pretty scary looking."

It’s clear that you haven’t sustained any physical injuries but even bearing witness to something so unsightly can have lasting effects on one's mind. His brows furrow gently in concern down at you and it occurs to you that there’s a soft heart under all of that shell and muscle. Bonus points. This makes you smile for the first time in front of him and Raphael is sure that the streetlights got brighter.

You laugh fondly, “Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you.” Twiddling your fingers, your lips purse up in his direction.  “Is there any way I can repay you?”

He places his hands on his hips and chuckles cutely, “Just doing my duty, ma’am.”

He may be indulging in his alter ego - the Red Angel of Preventing Harm - but it’s not every day he gets paid thanks when he saves someone. It’s also not every day he gets to save such a pretty woman, either. You, however, can’t just leave it at that. There must be some way in which you can properly thank him. Ulterior motives include getting to know this already loveable lug better but shh. It feels like the odds are finally turning in your favour and you won’t let this slip away from your grasp. That’s when it hits you.

Muttering under your breath, you erratically search through the confines of your little handbag. You are certain that you had one in here somewhere. In the spare pocket maybe? Ah! Found it. Fumbling to take the lid off of your pen, you hold out your hand, gesturing for his. He slowly complies, to which you jot down a series of digits on his palm accompanied by your name and a tiny 'x'. 

"Gimme a text sometime," is the last thing he hears before you disappear around a corner.

Oh? Oh. Ohhh. Wow. Getting your number is the last thing he expected. Did he get hit on the head during that scuffle or something? Was everything from the last few minutes a dream? He bores holes into the writing on his skin, scanning it over and over, scared that it’ll disappear if he so much as blinks. A dumb, wobbly smile not so gracefully decorates his lips as he trudges back to the turtle tank. He takes his seat but it’s obvious that he isn’t all there. Being so caught up in his rose-tinted bubble, he doesn’t register his brothers' voices. In an effort to gain his attention, Michelangelo jumps onto his shoulder, partly intrigued by what their leader is so absorbed by.

"Oh me gosh!” the young brother screams in shrill excitement, “Raph's in love!"

Careful not to smudge the neat ink, he’s quick to hide his hand against his chest. "That's crazy talk!”

Donatello sniffs the air and mockingly covers his nose. "The overwhelming manifestation of your nervous stink indicates otherwise, dear brother."

"I got a girl’s number!” he continues to defend, feeling his face go all kinds of red. “'Course, I'm nervous but that don’t mean I’m in love."

Lies and slander. It was practically love at first sight. He just doesn’t like the idea of his brothers knowing that. It’s easy pickings to be made fun of.

"Don't worry, Big Red. Lucky for you, you got a guy who knows all about the charm." Leonardo points both thumbs at himself as he falls back into his seat and props his legs up on the dashboard. "First, you just need to..."

The "helpful" advice drowns out as the large snapper opens and gazes at his palm again. He just can't comprehend how a gorgeous individual such as yourself could take one look at him and give him your number. It's puzzling but he supposes there’s a first for everything? That also doesn't mean he won't text you. The only thing getting in the way of that is fear. Raphael thinks he’d rather go toe-to-toe with that mutant dog again than have to face the risk of embarrassing himself. To anyone who knows him, it’s no surprise that he caves under pressure. No. He will do it! A chance like this is one in a million.

Oh boy. What could possibly go wrong?

[cryptidghostgirl]

I have another chubby reader for you! I was only gonna ask for one but YOURE SO AMAZING I JUST HAD TO PUT IN ANOTHER REQUEST😞😩 Alastor x chubby!reader, where reader goes out with angel Dust to a party or something wearing a *cough* slutty *cough* outfit and Alastor SEES THEM WEARING IT 👀 and he gets possessive of reader and won't let them leave with angel (whose smirking in the background and fluttering his eyelashes like he's innocent because reader and Alastor are bother emotionally constipated or something and haven't confessed to each other😤) and reader is nervous enough wearing something so revealing already (but they felt good enough in their own skin to wear such an outfit; that confidence is quickly fading when Alastor stops her from leaving with the outfit) so she gets the wrong idea that Alastor thinks she disgusting or body shaming her 🥺 but Alastors just ranting about being ladylike and "dressing like a proper lady" , Angel Dust is now watching this heartbreaking train wreck happen and tries to intervene but then Alastor turns on him about tainting the reader or something but reader has heard enough and just quietly just turns around and walks to her room heartbroken 😭 then angel yells at Alastor and tells him everything *shocked Pikachu face* and goes to reader to fix this misunderstanding, you take it from here????? BUT THEY DO CONFESS

(I LOVE ME SOME HURT/COMFORT AND LOVE CONFESSIONS! YUMM!)

A/N I love your requests and I'm so glad you liked how Sweet turned out. I am actually really proud of that one myself. Of course I will write this. 11/10.

Pretty Bunny (Alastor x Chubby!Rabbit Demon!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Hurt/comfort. Body image and weight stuff. I feel like Alastor is a bit ooc but I think this is cute so I don't super care.

Word Count: 2,049

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

“And where exactly is it you two are off to in such a hurry?”

Y/n and Angel froze, Angel's hand resting on the handle to the hotel's door.

"Well?"

Exchanging a covert look, Y/n and Angel turned to face Alastor. Y/n clasped her hands innocently behind her back, looking up at Alastor through her lashes which Angel had done up in silver falsies, and Angel fixed a smile on his face.

"Just out." Y/n hummed.

"Yeah," Angel chimed in, draping one of his lower arms over Y/n's shoulders and bringing her into his side, "little Y/n here deserves a night out on the town and some fun."

Y/n quickly elbowed Angel in the side. The spider demon knew Alastor and his opinions on the night life of Pentagram City. He was tempting fate. Alastor raised his eyebrows.

"You deserve 'some fun,' do you?" Alastor asked, fixing his gaze on the shorter of the pair of demons.

Angel released his grip on Y/n, shoving her forward slightly. She stumbled a bit, shooting him a glare before looking carefully back at Alastor. His scrutinizing gaze traversed her form with care. Angel had insisted on dressing her up and while the outfit he had put her in was a bit out of her comfort zone, Y/n felt incredibly pretty. The little white satin dress hung from her hips, playing gently against her thighs when she walked, and the black knee high platforms made her at least a couple inches taller. Angel had even placed black satin bows around the bases of her rabbit ears to tie the whole thing together.

There were also the chains, thin and dripping off her body. A necklace here, a carefully placed waist chain there, she looked practically angelic. Alastor crossed his arms, tapping his foot menacingly as he impatiently waited for an explanation.

"Well, we've been working so hard to become better people and it's been three months since we've done anything... fun. Besides, it was my birthday last week."

"Uh-huh." Alastor nodded, his lack of amusement with the situation obvious, "And where exactly are you two planning on going?"

"Oh come on, Smiles. It's just a club I know." Angel sighed, "You're starting to sound like Charlie. I thought you wanted to see us fail."

"That is true." was the only response the Radio Demon gave Angel before fixing his attention on Y/n once again.

She was beginning to grow uncomfortable under his piercing stare. Y/n wrapped her arms around herself, her shoulders hunching slightly.

"So what is the issue, Alastor."

The name felt foreign on her tongue. Although she had been a guest of the Hazbin Hotel practically since its creation, she avoided Alastor. At first, it had of course been due to intimidation. Then, as he had slowly begun to reveal his true colors to the residents of the hotel, it had morphed into something entirely other. Y/n thought that the Radio Demon, one of the most feared overlords in all of Hell, was pretty.

Y/n had never been good at dealing with crushes or flirting or anything. She avoided him like the plague. Her tail twitched thoughtlessly with trepidation, shifting her skirt just the slightest bit, revealing just the smallest big more of her thighs.. It was the last straw for Alastor.

"You're not going out in that."

Angel pressed his palm to his forehead, shaking his head. Love was his specialty, the act and the feeling. It was obvious to him Y/n had a thing for the Radio Demon, and not just because she had revealed the information to him in one of their late night talks. He never brought it up with the rabbit demon who had become a dear friend in the time they had known one another, but he was relatively certain Alastor had some interest in her as well. The Radio Demon seemed to constantly be a few steps behind her, entering rooms she had just left, letting his eyes linger on her when they did their group exercises.

At Alastor's words, Y/n's mouth fell slightly open. Her breath caught in her throat, a shiver running through her.

"Oh."

Her voice was strained and Angel could tell she was holding back tears. Y/n turned away from Alastor, her shoulders slouching even further.

"That is no way for a proper lady to dress." Alastor continued, not seeming to notice the effect his words had had as he lectured the smaller demon, "I mean, you're barley wearing anything at all! For goodness sake, your shoes are covering more than that dress an-"

"Alright," Angel cut in, stepping up beside Y/n and pulling her into his arms, "that's enough big guy."

"You're clearly tainting her with your promiscuity." Alastor sighed, "What, you want to bring her to some club so ignorant wimps can drool over her all night? Or maybe that's what she wants to have happen."

Y/n pulled herself from Angel's grip and marched right up to Alastor. Her eyes wet with unshed tears, he looked down at the finger she was jabbing into his chest in mild shock.

"You are mean." she stated, "I can't believe how wrong I was about you. I thought... god!"

She let her finger fall and crossed her arms over her stomach once again.

"You ready to go, sweet cheeks?" Angel asked and she shook her head.

All the fight had gone out of her.

"No, you go ahead without me. I think... I think I'm just gonna go to bed. Thanks for... yeah."

With those parting words, Y/n stormed upstairs. Angel and Alastor watched until she had long since disappeared into the depths of the hotel. Slowly, they turned to face each other once again.

"What." Alastor said in the most deadpan tone Angel had ever heard come from the demon.

"How could you do that?" Angel asked accusatorially, taking a step towards Alastor, "She is the sweetest little menace on the planet!"

"Do what?"

Alastor's brow furrowed in confusion. He didn't think he'd said anything wrong, done anything wrong. Y/n was the one who had over reacted, stepped out of line, right?

"Do you have any idea how long it has taken her to be confident enough to wear something like that? She has worked so hard on her relationship with herself and... and... she felt pretty. Why would you say that shit to her?"

"I... what?"

"She liked you, ya dumbass! She cared about what you thought of her!"

Alastor took the slightest step back, his hand not grasping his microphone raised to his chest, hovering over his heart.

"I am afraid I don't understand you."

Angel sighed, trying to calm himself.

"Look. Y/n has a crush on you and you just told her she wasn't pretty."

"No I didn't. I told her she should be more ladylike. A crush on me?"

"Yeah well, that's not much better. She is who she is and she is wonderful! The way that she dresses doesn't change any of that."

"She has a crush on me?" Alastor asked again, dumbstruck.

"Yes you idiot."

"But she never speaks to me. I thou-"

"That's cause she's nervous. Geeze, you are dense."

Y/n jumped in shock as she caught sight of Alastor using his shadows to teleport into her room through the reflection of the mirror. Her makeup half off, she turned to him.

"The fuck are you doing here?"

Alastor opened his mouth, about to make a comment about her language before thinking better of it and closing it again. Y/n rolled her eyes, her anger and hurt having festered into irritation. She turned back to the mirror, using the cotton pad in her hand to take off the last of her mascara. Alastor watched her face through the mirror as she tossed the cotton pad to the side.

Reaching up, she slowly began to disassemble the sculpture of a hairdo Angel had put her in.

"Why are you here?" she asked again, placing a bobby pin on the table.

"I came to... apologize." he replied, taking a small step forward.

"What, did Angel force ya' to?"

It wasn't often her accent slipped out. Y/n had been raised in Brooklyn but her parents had been insistent she work not to have the accent. People didn't take people who had them seriously, they said. It only ever made an appearance when she was drunk or feeling any emotion to it's extremity, especially anger.

"No, I am here of my own volition."

"Yeah, sure." she scoffed as she pulled the last of the pins from her hair, allowing it to fall freely around her face as she turned back to him over her shoulder, "I totally believe that."

"It was not my intent to make you feel like you weren't... pretty." Alastor carefully said, avoiding her eyes, "Just tha-

"If an apology involves an exception, is it really an apology?"

Alastor had never been good at this. Apologies or any of the other feelings he had been actively suppressing about the rabbit demon since he had come to the hotel. She stood up from her chair, walking over to him.

Y/n knew the clock was ticking, felt the heat of the tears building in her head again.

"What." she asked, throwing her arms out to the sides and looking around the room, "Ya' think I'm ugly? Unladylike? Is that because I let Angel dress me up or because I'm not stick thin?"

"Y/n."

There were tears dripping down her cheeks now. She looked away, crossing her arms tightly across her stomach in protection.

"Just leave, Alastor."

"Y/-"

"Leave!" she commanded, "Get outa here!"

"Y/-"

"I don' wanna talk to you! What don't ya' get about that!"

"Y/n!" Alastor grabbed her shoulder, turning her to face him.

"What!" she yelled back, tears streaming hotly down her face, "What, Alastor."

"I... I think you're beautiful."

The tears stopped, Y/n's eyes wide. Fueled by a sudden wild courage Alastor continued, grabbing her hands in his own.

"I do. You... I don't have the words. You..." he shook his head, "I really don't. You are a wonder."

Her nose twitched subtly, her ears adjusting themselves atop her head.

"But then why... why did you say those things to me?"

"I was jealous." he anxiously admitted, "I never meant to make you cry."

"Jealous?" Y/n repeated with a slight laugh and Alastor nodded.

His cheeks were hot and his heart pounding in his chest but he refused to look away from Y/n. Releasing one of her hands, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a handkerchief. Gently, he raised it to Y/n's face, patting away her tears.

"You were jealous."

He wasn't going to be able to escape this one.

"That some other guy was gonna see you like that? Was going to charm you and hold you in their arms while I did nothing? Of course I was."

"I have a confession to make." Y/n said after a moment.

"And what might that be?" Alastor asked as he took another step closer to Y/n, still holding one of her hands in his.

He tried his best to repress a smile, her bashfulness was so endearing.

"I maybe, kind of sort of... think you're beautiful too?"

She looked up at him through her lashes. He let go of her hands, grabbing her by the waste and pulling her body into his.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." she nodded shyly.

"You know, I might have heard something along those lines from Angel just a bit earlier."

"From... that little bitch! I mean snitch! I mean both actually I guess."

Alastor laughed at her antics.

"So, pretty bunny, what are we to do with this revelation?"

Y/n's ears cocked. Alastor could feel her tail twitch, brushing up against his arm where he held her. A shiver traveled down his spine.

"Oh I don't know." Y/n feigned indecision, her hands finding her way around his waist as well, bringing them even closer together, "Maybe you should ask me on a date? If you're interested."

"Interested?" Alastor laughed, leaning down, "Of course I am."

[jinuaei]

Cleaning up

Yandere! Husband! Alastor x Fallen Angel! Accidental Spouse! Reader

Part 1 --- Additional art

Maybe it was a bad idea to be married to this man. You thought as you saw other demons run away and cower from him, you would have also ran with them if only the person that everyone is so terrified of wasn't holding your arm hostage. 

It would have been embarrassing getting dragged around by this tall deer if it wasn't the fact that you're also pissing yourself sacred. But the good thing is he actually believes that you are his ‘spouse’, so you don't think you'll be hurt…much. Besides, he’s such a gentleman that he gave you his coat to cover up your wings so that it wouldn't be exposed to any more harm.

After a while of trying not to trip, actually stumbling, and Alastor dragging you up again and again, you manage to notice the change of scenery, from tall depressing buildings to smaller, more quaint establishments. The demons that also frequent the streets changed from shark demons, to red imps, and finally to black eyed demons with sharp teeth. 

Well, at least they look friendly.

“This place here is the cannibal town! We’ll be visiting a good friend of mine, I’m sure she’ll be able to clean you up in no time!” your ‘husband’ exclaimed. 

I reclaim that statement.

The town is charming, and rather calming in contrast to that chaotic, overstimulating city you crashed landed in. Despite being in hell, there were flowers growing here, clearly being taken care of wonderfully by the citizens of this town. Vintage cars roam around the road and you see children playing in the parks you've passed through. It’s almost identical to what you see in heaven, but more demonic and nobody uses cars because well, everybody has wings. When you are reminded about the wings, yours twitches in response, rubbing against the deer’s coat. Because of that, feathers, still stained with blood, fall off. Alastor’s shadow tendril grabs it midair and pockets it into his trousers.

Finally, the radio demon abruptly stops, giving you enough time to stabilize yourself properly. With a wave of his hand he shows off to you a building named ‘Franklin and Rosie Emporium’, and you notice on the side there is a huge line of people waiting to enter. Whatever they sell here must be quite popular. Now that you think about it, it might be related to the ‘cannibalism’ part of the town.

Alastor must be important here because people moved away from him as he waltzed through the entrance and into the door. As soon as you both step in, an exclamation of his name catches both of you and your ‘husbands’ attention.

“Oh Alastor! It's always a delight when you come to visit the Emporium, how have you been? And oh! Who is this adorable birdie? Though they look absolutely filthy,” the demon steps into the view, a sweet looking lady with a polite smile who gingerly holds your hands.

“Rosie, meet mon cher, sent by the heavens to become my beloved spouse,” the radio demon lifts up your chin with his fingers, moving your head side to side as if to show you off to Rosie, “Also, would you be a dear and help them clean up? I expect my spouse to be absolutely pristine considering they're married to the greatest radio host of all time!”

“Well, I’ll be delighted to play dress-up with the sweet thing, maybe you can run to the tailors real quick and find them new clothes too.” 

Agreeing to that, Alastor waves you goodbye and leaves, Rosie then ushers you to follow her while shouting at Franklin to man the store while she's out. You both emerge to a room above the shop, Rosie leading you to a spare bedroom with an en suite bathroom. It's quite homey, with mostly red as its main colour, other than that, nothing stands out to you.

“You can stay here for the time being as you wait for your husband, bathrooms over there, and there should be bandages and such under the sink. I will be down below to help Franklin with the customers, just find me if you need help!” Rosie closes the door to the room and leaves you to your lonesome. It's time to clean up, you think.

Stepping into the normal looking bathroom, a bathtub greeted you, thankfully it's big enough to fit you and your broken wings. You absentmindedly fill up the tub as you think back to before you fell, trying to determine what happened to cause you to fall from heaven's graces. Nothing comes to mind and eventually the tub fills up. 

Shrugging off your ripped clothes and Alastor's coat, you sink into the water, seeping into the open wounds on your body. As much as you want to climb out the tub, it's important to rid yourself first from the golden blood and debris that cover you. You look over your whole body under the tainted water, you are covered in cuts and bruises but other than that, there's no concerning wounds to be found. Well, other than the numbing pain of your wings. Now that you think about it, your halo has been missing the whole trip. You can sense that it's there, but you cannot feel it above you, nor do you see it illuminate the room.

Maybe it's just hidden? 

As you think that, the halo starts to manifest just above you, the glow weaker and flickering just slightly as if it's a broken bulb. You frown at the sheer difference from when you were in heaven, when it was incredibly bright, the other angels would tease you for being a walking lighthouse sometimes. When you lift up your hand to touch the halo, you notice a mark on your ring finger. Looking closer, it seems like a tattoo, of two snakes twisting into something akin to chains. How odd.

A knock pulls you out from your thoughts and a voice from the other room calls out to you.

“I’ll be leaving out your clothes on the bed my dear, Rosie will come by in a moment to help you with your hair!” 

You quickly finish the bath and stumble in front of the mirror. Eyes darting to your mirrored self, you gaze upon the broken wings and dim halo, you are ashamed to see what you are now. Though you have done nothing to cause the fall, you still feel the undeserved guilt of being wrong. Ingrained to you during your time alive and dead, but you yourself know you've been good, so why berate yourself over other people's definition of good and evil?

Still, you try to will away the angelic limbs attached to you, and are successful in hiding it, leaving only red patches of burned skin on your back. Thankfully, you were able to soothe the irritated skin and patch up the area fairly well. 

You close the door behind you and check out the clothes Alastor got for you, it's similar to his in design but also suited to you. How he was able to get your size right you're not sure. Regardless, it fits you perfectly, and there's even an opening at the back for your wings, though you've already willed it away, still you appreciate the sentiment.

“Are you done honey?” a knock reverberates in the room and you answer with a ‘come in!’. Rosie does and is pleasantly surprised at the lack of wings on your back. You remember the coat left in the bathroom and grab it, shrugging it on to cover the exposed skin and bandages. 

The cannibal guides you to the vanity, starting to brush your hair.

 “So you're Al’s little angel hm? How’d he manage to catch such a cutie pie?” The woman's Boston accent grabs your attention from the various tools in front of you.

“Well… As he said earlier I’ve been assigned to him as his spouse haha…” you laugh awkwardly,”but enough about me! How about Alastor…What is he like?”

“Oh! He’s such a sweetheart! Well he is an Overlord, he eats other demons, and kills for fun, but don't you worry about that! You're his darling, he wouldn't do anything to harm you. You're in good claws sweetie.”

“Sorry, what???”

“Hm?” 

Rosie just smiles at you before finishing up your look. And might you say, looking at the mirror you look absolutely breathtaking. Coming out of the room, you find Alastor in the kitchen cooking. The smell wafting around the house is magnificent, you are reminded how hungry you are after falling from heaven.

“There you are my dear, I made some Jambalaya for you! My momma always said once I got my own cherie I should always provide for them for the rest of our days. So, expect more of this dear,” the man hums an upbeat tune as he gives you a plate of the food. 

Adorably, he wears a yellow apron that says ‘Deer-est cook’ at the front, you also notice that he had his hair up with a ribbon in a low ponytail.

You were excited to consume the meal right in front of you but then you remember where in hell you are now.

“...Did you put demon meat in the Jambalaya…?”,eyes glancing up at him, the question lingers in the air as he catches your eyes and stares back, still smiling. A few unnerving seconds pass before he answers with a ‘of course not!’

You breathe out in relief and trust your so-called ‘husband’.

Or maybe I shouldn't trust what he says, but he's still staring, what if he gets angry that I won't eat it?? Oh heavens, please forgive me.

With closed eyes, you finally bite down on the food. Praying to all things holy, hoping that you did not do anything blasphemous by accidentally eating demon meat, you find yourself pleasantly surprised at how delicious it was. You almost forget proper etiquette when you start ravenously gulping down the rest of the food. 

The demon before you chuckles in delight at the sight of you enjoying your food. As much as he would like to feed you his exotic diet, he would rather not force you to do anything you don't want to. And oh…the pleased shiver that ran down his spine at the trust you've shown him by not questioning him any further regarding the meal was truly delicious.

Dear angel… MY dear angel. How perfect you are… I'll never let you go. After all, you were made for me weren't you?

“I forgot to tell you how absolutely darling you are in that outfit! I must say I have quite the taste! Haha!” he laughs at his joke,“might I ask where your wings are? I could’ve sworn it was there when I left! Unless you cut it off? You should’ve asked me though, I’m sure your wings would be a delicacy…”

“I was able to hide it, I don’t want to be a walking target you know? An angel down in hell seems like a bad thing to be.”

“Oh don’t worry about being a target! I’ll kill whoever tries to even look at you wrongly,” crooning at you, he brushes away invisible dust on his coat, “also you may keep my coat dear, it’ll be a good way to show people that you belong to me now, that is until I can find a ring worthy enough to be worn by you!”

“I-uh thank you…” 

Crap. If I don't escape soon I'll be officially married to him. Then again…if he keeps cooking me good food I guess it won't be too bad…

With that in mind, you hope your future will be brighter than your descent to hell.

A/N GODDD THAT TOOK SO LONG. Honestly, the more people kept asking for part 2 the less inclined I was to actually make one but here I am.

That being said, I will be making more fics at my own pace. Finals is coming up so please do not expect new parts for this fic. Truth is ITS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAVE MULTIPLE PARTS! It was merely an idea I had while I was in an art block. Nonetheless I hope you enjoyed it :DD

(I unfortunately do not do taglists)

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Divider by @/cafekitsune

[demonslayerunhinged]

Unhinged analysis - Sanemi

Why's Sanemi so aggro? (Part 1)

Sanemi is one of the most controversial characters in Demon Slayer and the most misunderstood, along with Obanai. People in the fandom just take him at face value, and it is a disservice to his character. You don't have to love him, but at least try to understand him, his background and how it all contributes to his behavior. So this is a character analysis on, in my opinion, the coolest motherfucker in Demon Slayer. Lesssgoooo!

His introduction

Sanemi's Hashira intro remains one of my favorite in the series. This is because we're fed so much information about him in such a short time.

The first thing we see are the W7s, the uniform belts around his shins, instead of the standard kyahan that other characters wear.

Then we see his back, his white haori which tells us nothing about his breathing style. At least with the others we can make an estimated guess at theirs. The only decoration is the kanji 殺(kill). Which is interesting because it's in the same position as the 滅(destroy) that we see on the backs of other slayer's uniforms.

Then we hear his voice for the first time. His speech is similar to that of a Yakuza member. I'll explain more later.

We then get the first glimpse of our man.

We notice a bunch of things. One is the fact that he's holding Nezuko's box with one hand, which tells us yea, this dude is strong as fuck. Then we see that his uniform is open at the chest, indicating a lack of care for his safety. We see the scars which lets us know that this guy has been through some shit, and he still keeps his chest open??? Nah.

Then we finally see his face and woah! The scary jagged scars, wild hair and bloodshot eyes combined with his rude way of speaking. We come to the conclusion: Oh my God! This guy's a crackhead!

Only kidding! But we can tell that this guy is not to be messed with and from the Jaws music that plays in the background and his signature Hashira theme, we also know that he's going to be trouble for our protagonist.

So let's break it down further with the first aspect of his introduction.

His haori, the kanjis, and their significance

Destruction has a certain impersonal feeling to it, like you destroy bad things not because you want to, but because you have to. Within the context of Demon Slayer, it's no different, the slayers have to destroy the demons because they are a blight on the world and there are no personal feelings about it. We can see it from the way Giyuu almost killed Nezuko, the way he killed Rui, the way Shinobu and Kanao almost killed Nezuko, and the way Zenitsu and Inosuke also killed demons.

Even in this episode where the Hashiras are introduced, their plans to execute Tanjiro and Nezuko show no personal feelings towards the situation, no maliciousness, and no hate. Nezuko is a demon she has to be killed. Tanjiro was harboring a demon so he has to be killed too and something tells me this isn't the first time they had to deal with a situation like this.

Kill, on the other hand, is very much personal and malicious in its intent. It doesn't matter if the target is bad for the world or not. What matters is that the killer thinks they're bad, and that alone is a justification to eliminate them. It's not about duty, it's a want spurred on by hatred, and Sanemi is full of hatred. We can see it from the sadistic way he stabs Nezuko, and the way he laughs at Tanjiro’s pain. Even when he wanted to test Nezuko with his blood, he gives her more unnecessary stabs instead of just simply opening the box.

Honestly, just by the kanji alone, I would’ve been surprised if he didn’t stab Nezuko. A demon can save baby orphans and kittens and sweet little old ladies from a burning building, and Sanemi will still gut the motherfucker.

Then there’s the color of his haori. The haoris, or absence of haoris, of the other characters (excluding Muichiro and Mitsuri) reveal information about their heritage, past, beliefs, and other aspects of their identity that extend beyond their role as Demon Slayers.

Sanemi has no heritage like Rengoku. We’re not given anything that tells us about his past like Giyuu. The kanji for Kill on his haori is in the same position as the Destroy on the standard uniform because, for Sanemi, being a Demon Slayer or more specifically a killer of demons IS his identity. It’s all he cares about, his entire life and the core of his existence. He has a one-track mind, and Kill Demons is the only song playing on a loop.

He doesn’t have time for anything he deems ‘frivolous’, has no special variation to his uniform aside from the fact that he keeps the chest open, and the uniform belts he wears around his legs are probably faster to put on than the standard kyahan.

So from his haori and kyahan alone we can tell that this guy is very strong, very wild and very dangerous.

Extra note: While doing research for this post, I also noticed that Sanemi’s haori is similar to the shirt he wore as a child, which could indicate how much his childhood affected him and how it led to his hatred of demons. Instead of the sleeve stripes, there is now the Kill kanji on the back.

Now let's move onto the other aspect of his introduction

His way of speaking

This part is based on my little understanding of the Japanese language and the research I did. So please don't attack me!

Sanemi kinda speaks like a thug or a Yakuza member. It isn't really noticeable in the English subtitles, but he uses particles and sentence endings that are typically used by men and can come across as rude, unrefined, and uneducated.

He doesn't use honorifics (unless speaking to the Master) when talking to people, even his fellow Hashiras.

He uses sentence endings such as ぜ (ze), ぞ (-zo), な (-na), か (-ka), かよ (-kayo) and だな (-da na) that make his questions and statements sound commanding, rough and forceful.

Not only that, but he often uses words such as:

"Urusee!" - a rough and rude way of saying "Urusai"

"Temee" - a rude way of saying you.

"Ore" - a very informal pronoun for "I"

Sanemi's way of speaking bears a teeny tiny resemblance to the Kansai dialect, which is like the Southern accent in the US. Kansai people are stereotyped as being uneducated, stupid, loud and aggressive.

That's why Tanjiro(bestest boy ❤) was shocked when Sanemi switched up real quick as he was speaking to the Master.

His default manner of speaking, even when it's to those who he likes or is okay with, is rough, forceful, aggressive and sometimes confrontational. It tells us about his personality and most importantly his upbringing or lack thereof.

I'll be going into his background in the Part 2 of this post, I'll also talk about how all these aspects makes our boy act the way he does.

In Conclusion, to be continued?

[artist-issues]

You know what’s great about Dr. Facilier?

He’s the perfect villain opposite both Tiana and Naveen.

He’s not exactly like Jafar or Ursula, who know they’re evil and delight in it as like, a lifestyle. He’s more like Scar. He’s introduced getting money on the street through cons and feeling satisfied…until Big Daddy LeBouf drives by with all his money and makes him feel insignificant.

You get the idea that something in life made him this way—there was a beginning to his villainy. You don’t get that sense from like, Clayton or Gaston.

So he’s a relatable character with flaws, to an extent.

But those flaws specifically play off of Tiana and Naveen’s characterizations.

Tiana has no real respect from her peers—she is in a position to be jealous of Lottie the same way Facilier is jealous of the Cotton King. But where Tiana simply works hard and refuses to let others make her bitter, Facilier has clearly taken shortcuts. Or…”the easy way.”

Then there’s Naveen.

Naveen has no thought beyond the present; he thinks they’re “on this earth to have some fun,” and frequently jumps without looking at the consequences. Leaps without looking! Doesn’t stop to find out if the girl he’s kissing is a real princess even though he knew his original invitation was to a costume party, forgets that he’s supposed to be getting married and plans on continuing his playboy lifestyle, wanders into a shadow-man’s shop. But eventually he learns to open his eyes to what’s important, and what will last, in Tiana. And he takes that seriously; if he marries her instead of Charlotte, he has to get three jobs.

Facilier, on the other hand? He not only does the opposite of Tiana and has taken shortcuts to get where he is—but he also suffers from Naveen’s flaw; he keeps making what are basically get-rich-quick schemes with his “friends on the other side.” When we meet him, he’s stressed and certainly on edge about failing—but that doesn’t stop him from asking for more and more debt from the demons, and he basically goes to his grave still making promises he can’t keep…like Naveen’s promise he couldn’t keep to pay Tiana for kissing him.

He’s got Tiana’s focus and Naveen’s charisma. He’s got Tiana’s lofty goals and Naveen’s dependence on others to do his dirty work.

He’s exactly like Tiana and Naveen put together, aged about twenty years, but with none of their good qualities. Perfect villain for those two main characters.

But he’s also the opposite of Mama Odie.

He entices innocents with what they want while she lights their way by explaining what they need.

He wants total control, while she’s satisfied with simply giving advice and sending people on their way.

He directly transforms his victims, while Mama Odie shows Tiana and Naveen how to work toward their transformation on their own. I mean, you guys noticed that she could have done it for them, right?

But she doesn’t, because she’s the symbol of that Disney Faith-Based morals: you act on what you know is true instead of taking the easy way to what you want. Facilier does the opposite: he promises to give you the easy way to what you want, and tries to tell you why you should accept his deals—but his reasons are all lies.

That’s how you write a villain, ladies and gentlemen.

[hoeforalbedo]

Dolly (Finale)

Demon Alastor x Demon Housewife!Reader

Tw: Alcohol, Club, reader referred to woman, murder, rushed work.

Note: It’s kinda rushed. I tried. I was watching a school play and it was Chicago so I thought why not start it off at the club. I was also going to write a smut but it wouldn’t save so I guess it just wasn’t meant to be. Last part was literally taken from Hannibal 😭😭

———————————————————————

Loud sounds of the trumpet ring throughout the club. It’s not the modernized type of clubs. No, flappers gather around dancing to the music with others at the dance floor. It’s almost as if everyone gathered together to learn the choreography as they all seem to dance in unison.

“Whiskey?” A small lady asks, holding a glass cup.

“I’m good Mimzy,” You smile. You lean back on your chair.

After years of loneliness, you’ve finally come to the end of your days. It was no natural death. Even in old age you found yourself feeding off the high you felt from murder. It was the only thing keeping you sane, ironically.

One moment were falling back onto the ground, the second you were greeted by the gold pearly gates. “Welcome to Heaven. Name please?”

“Hi, I am Y/N L/N, I believe I would not be on that list,” You smiled.

“Is that so? Surely I fine mannered lady like you should be on the list.” The angel hummed and looked at his list. “How odd, your name isn’t here.”

“I hope not, it isn’t. I’m very aware that murder is a huge sin,” You chuckled.

“Oh. . . Well then-“ You found yourself falling once more.

“My dear wife can’t handle her liquor well,” The static voice breaks you out of your thoughts.

“Oh Alastor, you know I’m not one for alcohol,” you say, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I’ll take that, Mimzy.”

“Oh you two are truly a match made in hell,” The short flapper laughs.

“Hell?” You smirk, looking at Alastor.

“Truly.” Your husband answers, taking your hand and kissing the back of it.

“Oh I’ll leave you demon couple to be. I don’t plan to be a third wheel. Ta ta~!” The flapper waves, getting lost in the crowd.

“I believe we have time,” You look at him mischievously.

“I believe we do!” Alastor looks at a certain direction of the club, eyes landing at a man sniffing some substance. “I wouldn’t want to waste the night, especially since my wife dressed all pretty for me. Care for a dance?”

You jump up from your chair. “Why I thought you’d never ask!” You smile as Hit the Road Jack through the speakers. The song is very much after Alastor’s time however he found that he enjoys his music.

The two of you get to the dance floor. He places his hand at the small of your back and swing in sync with the music. He takes the lead, spinning and twirling you around.

“How I missed this!” You scream over the music.

“I’ve forgotten how amazing you are,” Alastor compliments, hooking your leg around his waist.

“Dancing was one of the many things I’ve missed.”

Alastor slowly dips you low to the ground before pulling you back up. “The day I took you dancing, I knew I was in love.” No, actually his mom suggested he take you dancing although he was taken off guard when you managed to keep up with him.

The demon lets go of your hands, letting you shimmy around him to allow you to have a clear view of what’s going around the club. He then takes your hand, pulling you back in and guiding you to twist your hips while kicking your feet.

It’s amazing how in synch you two are with how fast the song is. At the same time, the both of you are keeping a lookout for the man that you both could not bother to know the name of.

“Alastor,” You suddenly say darkly, looking over his shoulders.

“Allow me.” He managed to maneuver you both in the dancing crowd, spinning and twirling along with them.

“How dramatic you are. We could have walked!” You chuckle.

“Well you know me, I am one for theatrics. I trust you can handle the rest?”

“Of course dear!” You smile. He twirls you one last time and you spin much farther than you should, causing you to bump into a man who ends up spilling his drink on him.

“Shit you woman this is expensive!” The man yells.

“Oh I apologize! How clumsy of me,” You apologize profusely, taking your handkerchief out and trying to dry the liquid. Your doe eyes look at him innocently, looking full of regret.

“Well I’m sure I can forgive you, if you give me your. . .” He scans your body, taking in the black dress that is modest yet perfectly hugs your curves. Your cleavage peeks out just enough to leave the rest for the imagination. “Yeah, how about you offer me your body for the night.”

You look at him with innocent confusion. “I’m afraid I can’t do much for a night. A laborious task of cleaning the stain of your suit would take me a couple hours at best!” You play coyly although you know he intends to sleep with you.

“I- you know what, how about you come with me. I’ll show you a good time,” He smirks.

“Oh that’s just the experience I’m looking for!”

“Perfect.” The man leads you out to the back of the club. Your back is leaned up against the brick walls as the man gets very close to you.

“I’m not sure how this is more fun compared to dancing.”

“How did an innocent thing like you get into hell?” The man chuckles, taking your wrists and pinning it over your head.

“I lied just a little bit,” You answered.

“How naughty,” He hums, about to burry his face into your neck until he was simultaneously pulled back by shadow tendrils.

“I’m sorry for my vagueness. I lied about murdering someone,” You smile then walk to Alastor’s side.

“Who the fuck ar- Fuck,” the man’s eyes widen realizing that the one holding him captive is none other than the radio demon he had messed with a couple days prior and that you are associated with him.

“Am quite aware that I allowed for this to happen, but I still hate the fact that someone touched what’s mine,” The radio demon says menacingly, the filter in his voice going in and out.

“Alastor, sweetheart, how about we save this for the broadcast,” You mutter to him, putting your hand on his chest. “It was the plan after all, right?”

“Why you’re right, my dear. Well then!” He wraps an arm around you and teleports the three of you to his radio station.

“Oh fucking hell. Come on man! I don’t even know who this bitch is! Spare me!” The guy begs.

Alastor’s head spin towards the man while the rest of his body remains still. “This bitch is my wife and I will not tolerate your demeaning words. However!”

The man sighs in relief. “I do not fight my wife’s battles so my dear, do as you please.”

“Gladly. I was thinking meatloaf for tonight,” You smile as you glide towards your poor victim with a butchers knife.

“Good afternoon to my fellow sinners of hell! It is I, Alastor, accompanied with my lovely wife for the first time.”

“Hello!” You say cheerfully as you chopped the man’s fingers, a scream filling the studio.

“Today there will be music, dancing,” His filter disappears, “screaming,” his voice goes back to the usual, “and all that jazz so sit back, relax, and enjoy.” Another scream resonates through the air as Alastor plays some peaceful music. He then turns to you who has been chopping off the man’s external parts. “I hope you’ve left some for me, ma chere. I’m still rather irked from earlier.”

“Oh he’s still very much alive, see!” You say, pulling the man’s cheek to force a smile on his face.

“Lovely. I hope you don’t mind a bit more blood, my dear.”

You chuckle, “Oh I’m by far very used to it.”

He kisses your forehead, “What a doll you are, me cherie.”

“Only for you.”

“Just fucking kill me already!” The man begs.

“Gladly,” Alastor says, voice deep without any filter.

———————————————————————

“Smells delicious dear,” Alastor kisses your head.

“Of course! We made it together. Is Charlie and her father almost here?” You ask as you place the last dish down on the table.

“I believe-“ A knock is heard. “They are here now.”

“Let’s hurry and greet them!” You say excitedly, taking your apron off and putting it away.

The two of you open the door with bright smiles.

“Hello you two!” You greet, hugging the both of them.

“Well hello,” Alastor says, less enthusiastically as he glares at Lucifer.

“Well if looks could kill,” Lucifer begins only to be interrupted by his daughter.

“Well I’m glad that we were invited to your home, although of course we always have space at the hotel, and I feel so bad for coming empty handed,” Charlie speaks almost as if she’s being chased by something by how fast she speaks.

“That’s absolutely fine. My wife really only ever eats the food she or I prepare,” Alastor says. “Shall we?”

The father and daughter find themselves walking past the living room where deer heads are posted above the fireplace. Once they get to the dining room, the vibe is much more homey.

“You can tell who decorated what in the house,” Lucifer snickers.

“Wow! These all look delicious!” Charlie’s eyes sparkle at the food.

“Please have a seat!” You say.

All of you begin eating, making small talk. “This tastes good. What kind of meat is this?” Lucifer asks curiously.

“Rabbit,” Alastor answers.

“He should have hopped faster.”

The couple look at each other. You smile, “Yeah, he should have.”

———————————————————————

Tags: @notsentimentalll @mixplara @futureittomainn @karolinda007-blog

[girlsworldillusion]

CLAIM - by Aemond Targaryen

+18 (seriously, no minors)

author's note: my first time writing for him, even though I've been in the fandom for a while now. (I hope this isn't the only one).

There you go, Aemond thinks with some bitterness.

Bright, innocent, pure. Tempting in annoying ways. Certainly a cute little thing to look at, though.

Unfortunately, he's not the only one who noticed this.

A warm, tingly ball curls in his stomach the more he watches you and your pathetic excuse for a partner during the waltz. Every delicate twirl you make around the grand ballroom sends shivers down his spine. The flushed dust high on your cheeks leaves his throat dry. The gentle smile you offer the Lord who smugly leads you through the dance makes his fist clench so tightly around the wine glass that Aemond is actually surprised he hasn't shattered the thing into a thousand pieces yet.

Aemond is not jealous, however. Aemond doesn't get jealous - being jealous is wanting something someone else has, and he has everything he needs, a lot of enviable things, to be honest. (That's what he tells himself, sipping some wine and sending icy daggers toward the man who insists on holding your waist tighter and tighter).

He's not jealous. He just doesn't like it when others covet what's his - or what should be his.

You, another Lady with a prestigious name. Theoretically there were many like you, it's true. But to Aemond, you always stood out. Unique, special. It is a great inconvenience that others also think this way.

Aemond was trying to be a gentleman here. He was purposely going slow so as not to scare you; innocent walks in the garden, subtle conversations about a book you both recently read, an unassuming invitation for afternoon tea (although he doesn't even like tea).

He was already exhausting the limits of his own patience and he still didn't get any real sign that you reciprocated his interest in you. You are kind and lovely, of course. But that's how you are with everyone around you. This, in itself, is no guarantee of absolutely anything for him.

Aemond was trying to be patient. Gods, he really was. But with each passing day he found himself more and more tormented by thoughts and fantasies about you. His mind is playing tricks on him, pushing the limits of his self-control to the point where he feels like he might snap like a stretched rubber band.

And it is on these nights, when everyone in the Red Keep is already asleep and he is absolutely certain that he is finally alone with his own demons - that he gives in.

He closes the only eye he has left to keep from seeing the shamefully needy descent of his hand beneath the waistband of his sleep pants, only for it to become a fleeting, innocuous thought a few seconds later, because there it is again; that all-encompassing, overwhelming feeling that makes him see stars every time.

He palms his straining erection wet with precum, imagining it's your tiny hand there - or your pretty mouth, your tight pussy. The mere thought of it sends a bolt of pleasure down his spine and makes him part his lips in a husky sigh.

He thinks of you, over and over again; in hurried and repetitive steps, like someone lost in a maze.

Your cheeks flushed, your lips swollen from his kisses, your eyelashes fluttering with pleasure, your sweet voice begging for him...

Aemond, Aemond, Aemond-

Aemond writhes on the sheets, panting, shaking with it, his toes curled against the bed; his hips twitching with each wave of pleasure along his shaft trapped between his fingers. In the waves of euphoria, he throws his other arm over his eye, hides his sapphire and his personal decay like a secret, panting, getting close, so close, fuck, fuck...

It's sweet torture, after all. Spills out onto his own stomach and sheets instead of where he really wants to be.

But he can handle it. All to be a gentleman for you. All to endure the long, agonizing (and embarrassing) wait while you happily accept his invitations to teas and walks in the gardens and entertain him with your witty anecdotes about the latest book you read -

Although you never give him a concrete answer about your feelings for him.

He's trying to hold on.

But you need to pressure him, don't you?

He grits his teeth and narrows his gaze when the man waltzing with you leans down to say something close to your ear.

This isn't new to him, of course.

Aemond is used to having to fight to get what he wants. Nothing really comes easy for him. But there is something about the arduous trajectory of his personal achievements that no one is able to deny.

Once claimed, it's his forever.

That's it, enough of trying to be a gentleman - Aemond hums as he uses the rim of his wine glass to hide the wicked smile tugging at his lips.

.

"Oh, baby."

He is against you.

Pressing his crotch against the curve of your ass so you can feel how hard his cock is in his pants.

He's laughing in your ear.

Mocking.

"You like that, don't you, girl?" he asks, in a dark whisper after cornering you in one of the castle's corridors, blocking your walk to your chambers. He deposits words laced with malice and honey into his husky voice, whispered against the shell of your ear.

You shudder against him.

He's rubbing himself against you. His cock rubbing explicitly against the curve of your ass, while his fingers squeeze your throat, pulling the back of your head to his shoulder.

"You're mine," he says, his voice full of possessiveness. Like he was on the verge of losing it. He already lost.

You cry out softly, feeling him squeeze your throat again. Harder this time.

"Nobody touches you from now on. Got it?"

He's nuzzling into your hair. Lost in the tickle of your strands on his face, in your sweet smell in his nose.

You shake your head somehow even with his firm grip on your throat and he laughs against your hair.

A low, harsh laugh, a wicked sound that rumbles straight from his throat as he leans down to leave a single kiss on your cheek, intertwining his fingers with yours to give a light tug.

"Good girl."

.

You open your mouth to say something, anything - an apology, a well-rehearsed argument, words too soft and genuine to compete with the sound of Aemond's hips slamming violently between your thighs - but all all you can do is a low, breathless meow.

"You smell like him," Aemond huffs coldly, though it's more of a breathy grunt.

Maybe there is a certain amount of exaggeration in his words, you don't smell like him. Not really. But the simple memory of that man's hands on your waist and his face close to yours to whisper anything was awakening a dangerous euphoria in Aemond's veins.

He tries hard to at least pretend to be easy, to at least pretend to have some control over the situation. Struggling silently to remain composed, as if he wasn't finally fucking the woman he's wanted for a long time at a brutal pace, as if your scent and your tears weren't permanently staining his sheets right now, as if he wasn't squeaking his teeth to keep from spilling too soon at the mere thought of having permanent physical proof that you were here - right in the bed where he sleeps every night. Aemond feigns an indifference and coldness that are not real.

But he's trying.

He is under the intense watch of your drunken, half-closed gaze, and tries hard not to embarrass himself any more than he already has. He struggles to breathe through his nose, trying not to blink too often; carefree, not a hair out of place. And, in the midst of his personal battle for dignity, he finds some amusement in how you seem to be going insane beneath him; as if you seams were being torn apart with each breath hissed through your teeth.

"I-it was just a dance..."

“He was desperate,” Aemond cuts you off, squeezing you so that your words turn into nothing more than a pathetic groan at the end of the sentence. His fingers dig into your throat, anchoring him as his hips work furiously against yours. His hair is falling to your shoulders and breasts, raising goose bumps on your skin with each thrust of his body against yours. “And that smell is really offending me, girl.”

“I-I, I’m so sorry-” you stutter, hands gripping his wrist as he resists the urge to sink his teeth into the crook of your neck, exactly where everyone can see it tomorrow, “I told him I already had someone and -"

He barely hears your confession before he interrupts. Thick words spilling from his lips as the grip on your body doubles in intensity.

"He thought with that sticky smile that he could just have you? That he would be the one to take your purity? This is for me, he should know. You belong to me. Only for me - only for me." He shakes and sputters to the wild pleasure coursing through his veins, some of his self control slipping as he bows his head and bumps his forehead against your sweaty shoulder, panting heavily into your skin at the feeling of your tight walls gripping his cock like a lathe.

"Yeah - only for you", he distantly hears you moan above the roar in his ears, feels your little fingers tangle between the silver strands of his hair until you manage to give a sharp tug, right at the base of the back of his neck. He groans into your skin at the sensation.

The liquid heat building inside him is almost overflowing, so close that he can't stop his trembling hips from meeting yours with shallower thrusts. He's almost rubbing himself against you, over and over, frantically. “Aemond, p-please,” you murmur, cherry-colored tongue wetting your plump bottom lip. "I can't anymore, I can't - ngh, please-"

Aemond swallows the rest of your words with a punishing kiss, answering your broken plea by quickly grinding his hips, encouraging your orgasm to wash over you. He doesn't stop, not even when you go rigid, unable to kiss him back or do anything other than moan and cry into his mouth.

Aemond traces your lips with his tongue, nibbling them until they're soft, his own breathing becoming as frantic as the cock that's dragging without pause against your wet walls. When his orgasm washes over him, Aemond is already panting and moaning as if in pain as he rests his forehead against yours; an intense gaze observing yours, focused on every detail of your delicate features. Your hooded gaze, the wet trail of tears on your red cheeks and your uneven breathing. The purest adoration for him shining in your eyes like stars in the dark sky.

And he smiles then.

Because you are his now.

Duly claimed.

.

With a gentle touch on his elbow, Aemond returns to reality.

The apples of his cheeks are dyed a subtle (but noticeable) shade of red as his violet gaze scans the space in front of him, silently surprised to have been caught in the middle of his unholy reverie.

It's you.

A beautiful silk dress on soft skin. Hair tied in a slightly loose braid. So small compared to him. So beautiful. So...his.

"Prince Aemond, are you okay?"

He looks at you for a moment, debating between feigning disagreement to spare himself the humiliation of being caught or pushing you against the nearest wall.

In the end, he chooses to remain still, head raised proudly and face indifferent, although his violet gaze remains stubbornly tilted downwards, thirsty to maintain eye contact with you.

"Yes, I just got distracted," he says, voice deeper than he'd like it to sound.

You smile, sweet and soft and his heart quickens.

"That's great. Well, it's late and my feet are hurting after all the dancing." You close your eyes in an amused, relaxed expression, there's even a dimple forming in your cheek as the wide smile stretches your lips - and although the sight is enough to fill his chest with a bubbling sensation of pure warmth, a muscle Aemond's jaw jumps at the mere mention of your recent activities. "Have a good night, my Prince." You conclude when he offers no response to your comment, bowing with a respectful farewell before walking away.

He watches you leave the great hall with delicate steps, gentle smiles and nods directed at the people you meet on the way. The image of grace and innocence, without a doubt. At least until you turn your head towards him before walking out the hall doors.

The way your upper teeth sink into the plump flesh of your lower lip, your heavy eyelashes fluttering when you squint briefly, the flushed cheeks and swollen pupils aimed specifically at him...

It happens as quickly as it started. With a fluid movement you turn around again and walk through the hall doors, as if nothing had happened.

Aemond sighs; tired, irritated, burning with lust.

You keep playing with him.

The wine glass shakes and clinks loudly as he places it roughly on the table, but he doesn't care. He doesn't even care if anyone notices as he abruptly follows your steps, leaving the ballroom behind, with a hard gaze and dark features.

He would catch up to you.

And this time he'll make sure it's not just in a daydream-

He will claims you. Truly, indisputably.

[bigbadvoxbox]

Hi, I would like to ask for a smut from Adam x fem Reader, he takes Lucifer's wife so he can get back at Lucifer I love your posts

THANKS ANON

warnings: previous lucifer x reader. unprotected sex (don't do this). degradation if you squint? like a brief mix of both degradation and praise.

- Lucifer's pretty ex-wife, almost looking more like an angel than a demon, which was one thing that Adam found pretty appealing. The attractive appearance, with the subtle demonic features? Badass. He was into it.

- Puts his plan into action. He knows usually he can get any girl he wants, he's fucking Adam, but you're gonna be special. You were Lucifer's bitch (affectionately), so he wants to make this BIG.

- He plays it real cool. Lucifer almost hands you over himself, sending you to a meeting Adam had requested instead of showing up himself. This was the second time Lucifer had bailed like this now, what a little bitch. He can't help but feel lucky that even after splitting, you were still on okay enough terms for Lucifer to ask you such a favour.

- You have a little chat, and he plays a few harmless little jokes on you. It's been a while since you've laughed this way, and you confide in Adam that Lucifer wasn't the most social. You missed him. He stayed locked away in his room, and you got a small "hi, sweetheart" now and again, but it just wasn't the same. Not compared to how he used to hold you in his arms, sing songs to you, like a fairytale type of love. You missed that. Which was why you left him.

- Adam couldn't help but scoff at this, he should've expected as much from Lucifer.

- "Y'know, he missed out on some good shit. You're a fuckin' hottie. I don't know what he was doing ignoring a babe like you." He says. It's meant to be... comforting? Maybe? In his own way. You're a little confused, but also a little flattered?

- You two start to gossip like friends would, and you become more comfortable with the man sitting a few seats away from you, completely forgetting about the business portion of this meeting (a.k.a. the bullshit Adam made up to even get the meeting in the first place).

- He brags about himself a bit, and you can't help but find it the littlest bit charming, in a funny way. He talks about his band, how he "fuckin' shreds like a badass" on the guitar, and how the fangirls go crazy for him.

- "I'm not too interested in them though. I have my eye on someone else. I mean- yeah, they're cute 'n all, but nothing compared to this one chick I've been thinkin' about lately. She's somethin' real special." he explains.

- "A cute little lady whose shitty ex-husband left her feelin' so lonely... and unsatisfied too, I bet."

- That's when you catch on, taking notice of the subtle flirtatious smirk that plays on his lips. You feel your cheeks burn the slightest bit, and you turn your head away, a bit speechless.

- Adam knows he has you now.

- A few sweet words later, and steps closer that you didn't even really seem to notice him taking, too busy focusing on his (slightly vulgar) flattery, you now feel each other's breath against your faces. The moment is tense, and his lips, now exposed after he removed his mask, ghosting over yours.

- The mask was quite the reveal. But you had to admit, he was not at all bad looking. He wasn't exceptional, but he didn't need to be. You liked him just the way he was. In this small meeting he had shown you more kindness and attention than your husband had in a while.

- One thing led to the next. A flirtatious glance, a gentle brush against each other's hand, and next thing you know, you're laying on your back on the meeting table, Adam between your legs, his lips on your neck.

- He can't help but leave you absolutely covered in hickeys. It's nice to be possessive over something. Someone who's his now. He finally turned the tables on Lucifer, and that thought can't help but bring a smug grin to his face.

- When he was joking around earlier, calling himself the "dick master" you thought he was kidding.

He was not.

- He fucking pounds you into the table, one hand on your waist, the other on your tits, feelin' you up and teasin' you to get you all flustered. He wonders how long it's been since you felt this good, but don't worry, he'll make you forget all about that.

- He can't deny that you feel (ironically enough) fucking heavenly. It's like he can't get enough of it. Not only is the sex itself amazing, he just can't get enough of the victorious feeling of getting back at Lucifer.

- Trust me when I say he has you SCREAMING. He's so fucking glad he didn't use the hologram, instead taking the risk of going down to Hell himself, just for the opportunity to feel that cunt on his cock.

- "That's a good fuckin' bitch."

- He honestly can't even quite help the filth that just comes out of his mouth so naturally, his language vulgar but.. kinda hot?

- He can't help but cum inside you and fill you up, groaning a drawn out "Fuck yes." as he hovers over you on the table.

- He's pretty happy with his new badass demon bitch by his side, and his visits to Hell on "business" become a lot more frequent. The business in question is just him fucking you in every possible position, leaving you covered in hickeys, kisses, and bite marks. You're all his now. Suck it, Lucifer.

THATS IT

it's almost 4 am so this is not at all proofread

so if it's shit

i'm sorry

edit: the cheating part made me feel bad so i switched it up

[flamingpudding]

Ghost Hunting Vigilantes

Ouija Board Prompt Idea Continuation...? Maybe!

Follow up part directly to this: Ghost Hunting Vigilantes #2

A/N: You guys are awesome. Comments and Reblogs gave me so much inspiration I ended typing this down during Lunch Break. Also I just might have wanted to image Tim going all out on the ghost investigation, I blame watching to many TFIL Overnight videos...

You would think that as Ghost King Danny would be able to learn from his mistakes, and he really could learn from his mistakes but for some reasons, this was something he was not learning from as he floated above the vigilantes curious. He wasn't going to mess with them again, Lady Gotham had beat that into his skull at least. Not like he did the first time but apparently the old city spirit was rather protective of her 'knights'.

Still their first meeting had gotten the Ghost King curious. It wasn't just about the matter with the Red Hood Guy, something he had promised Lady Gothom to take care of as compensation once he figured out what was up with him. But these guys seemed to have gotten an interest in ghost communications now.

So a couple weeks later he was floating invisible once again above them watching the RR Teen - by now he had learned that RR stood for Red Robin and he had snickered at the realization that his hero name was also the name of a Dinner - was laying out cat balls all around the room before setting up some other devices.

The Kid, Robin, was sitting cross legged and arms crossed on the ground and looked very grumpy. Danny could hear the kid mutter something about Pit Demons and that they should get rid of them instead of trying to communicate. The kid had yelled that before and Lady Gotham had never explained that in her lectures about how he should treat her 'knights'. What were Pit Demons? Was that a ghost variant his kingly tutors had failed to tell him about? If they were his subjects and tormenting humans he would need to deal with them, before the GIW became aware of them.

The one in blue, Nightwing if he remembered correctly, was laying out the Ouija Board again at the same place it lay last time. Danny noticed that the guy was looking at the board with curious confusion and for a moment the Ghost King wondered if he had left some traces on the board when his own ectoplasm soaked it.

"Think that ghost will appear again?" The girl in purple was also there again and next to her was another girl dressed in darker colors. Spoiler and Orphan according to Tucker and the city spirit.

"It's a Pit Demon. Stop calling it a ghost." Robin cut it glaring heated at them all. Danny muffled a snicker. The poor kid was definitely not very good at handling the ghostly things but by saying the Ghost King was Pit Demon the kid appeared to be braver about the whole situation these vigilantes were 'investigating' and setting themselves up for.

"I am more worried that Replacement got scammed buying all these things." Red Hood huffed as he was turning around and looking at a controller-like thing in his hands. Danny floated closer looking over the tall guy's shoulder. The thing had five LEDs in different colors and EMF Meter was written on it. Huh, was that thing like the Fenton-Finder? Well his parents had to get the idea for their inventions from somewhere.

A high pitched beep resounded in the room and all eyes turned to Red Robin who was finishing up setting a small box with an antenna. Danny recognised this one from online ghost hunting videos Sam has made him watch as a joke, a REM Pod. Oh so all the stuff they laid around the room including the cat balls were options for him to use? That was pretty nice of them considering the first time they were just playing around with a Ouija Board.

"We are all set up and good to start." Red Robin said as he stood up facing the rest of the vigilantes proudly and Danny arched an eyebrow. "We can now investigate if this 'ghost' is a Pit Demon or has anything to do with the Lazarus Pits or Water and what they want here in Gotham! I missed out on getting a sample last time but hopefully they will be willing to give me one this time."

The Lazarus' what now? Danny blinked at the teen stunned. He had only played a joke on them and Lady Gotham had already sorta punished him for it. If getting hit by a ghost club and lectured on knightly etiquette counted as punishment, which in his opinion did. Why were they making such a big deal out of this anyway?

"Don't we need to… like open a veil and introduce ourselves?"

"No."

"Oh come on Baby Bird. We have to be polite."

"Says the fucker who secretly attempted to use the Ouija Board behind our backs." Red Hood grumbled turning on the controller in his hand and nearly dropped it as the LEDs all started to glow and it let out a long drawn out beep. Danny blinked at it, he was still floating around the tall guy's shoulders.

"Fuck! The hell is with that thing?"

"Oh! Oh! The ghost is already here!"

"It is a Pit Demon."

All the vigilantes suddenly looked a lot more on alert, Danny held back a chuckle as he floated away from Red Hood and over to Nightwing. The LEDs went down to two and Danny suppressed a hum in curriousity. Did Red Hood have a signature that thing was picking up on? Was the guy a halfa in the making? He didn't appear to have any of the signs Vlad had told him about once.

"Hey so are you the one we talked to last time?"

Seeing the board as the closest thing to communicate by him, he reached out and moved that wooden piece to YES. The vigilantes looked among themselves and Danny floated over to the kid that started nervously playing with a cat ball that had been placed near him, wondering if he could send out like a calming aura for the kid.

Lady Gotham hadn't needed to hit him that hard, seeing the kid now made the Ghost King feel guilty for scaring the poor boy the way he did. Even if he didn't know what all that Lazarus Stuff was about yet. He mentally noted that down, maybe Clockwork, Pandora or one of the annoying Observants had an idea.

"So are you a Pi-"

"Are you okay?" Nightwing cut in, interrupting the question Red Robin was going to ask and Danny blinked. Huh that was new. It's been a while since anyone aside from his sister and best friends asked him that.

He floated towards the RR teen and he lightly touched the REM Pod's antenna, it let out a different pitched beep than it had before causing the teen that stood by it to jump up and turn around staring at it with wide eyes. "I didn't touch it!"

Spoiler rolled her eyes. "Of course you didn't, Mr. Ghost did."

"The ghost could be a girl for all we know."

"It's 16."

"The voice we heard last time sounded like a male teen though."

"It is a Pit Demon, it most likely lied to us."

Rude, Danny didn't lie. He picked up one of the cat balls, it started instantly lighting up because of the movement, and lightly threw it at the kid that caught the ball on reflex. Wide eyed they all stared at the still blinking ball. "Did…. did the ghost just fucking throw that at Demon Brat?"

"I only ever saw in videos how ghosts lightly touch it to make it blink. I have never seen a ghost throw it like that."

Danny snickered into his hand to muffle it. Robin suddenly dropped the ball like it had burned his hand glaring at nothing as his eyes wandered over the room. "Show yourself Pit Demon!"

He floated over to Nightwing and the Ouija Board again, passing Red Hood who was still holding the EMF Meter that hit all five LEDs for a moment and beeped when he passed by. Making the tall guy jolt and stare down at it. He swiftly moved the wooden piece to NO.

After last time and the beating Lady Gotham gave him with her ghost club, he was not going to show himself. Not even with a little ectoplasm-avatar blob form. Okay maybe he will later on, when he was sure they wouldn't suddenly start attacking it again. He didn't see any of his parents' weapons with them but he wasn't going to risk it. Considering what Red Hood had said earlier, Red Robin might have bought some more stuff he had not shown or laid out yet.

"I demand that you show yourself, Demon!" The kid was pulling out his katana looking ready for a fight.

Now that was rude. Danny was a half ghost. Not a Demon. They were an entirely different species. Sure they were sort of a part of the Infinite Realms but like Ghost are formed from ambient ectoplasm, strong wills and emotions. Demons were like a living breathing species that needed to eat actual food like humans and not entirely made of ectoplasm.

Danny didn't move a single finger to respond to Robin's demand, silently scoffing.

"They are not ghosting us now are they?" Nightwing carefully asked after the silence had dragged on. Red Robin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I swear if you made them leave, I will not include you the next time we investigate this 'Pit Demon' as you call them."

"Come on guys! We can't give up now. Maybe we can call them back?" Spoiler added, Orphan next to her nodded enthusiastically.

"This thing is still glowing on two LEDs." Red Hood added holding up the EMF Meter for the rest of them to see.

"So it's still around?"

"Probably."

There was more silence and an idea sparked in Danny's head as he suppressed a snicker and carefully floated over to the REM Pod making sure to avoid Red Hood and not alerting the thing in his hand. He crouched by the box, studying it for a little bit and making sure not to touch it to accidentally set it off too soon.

"It's been too quiet. Are you sure it didn't leave?"

"Still on two LEDs."

"This demon is a coward."

"You're not making it better Baby Bird."

"We should have gotten Signal to come too. He probably could have told us for sure if they are still around or not."

"Maybe we should pack up and try another time again?"

"But we didn't even get the ghost's name!"

Taking this as his que to give a sign of 'life' from him again, Danny touched the REM Pods antenna with a certain rhyme in mind. He wasn't hitting the notes correctly but the pitches were different enough from each other that these vigilantes would recognise what he was doing.

They jumped at first at the sudden noise until slowly realization dawned for some of them. The girls started to laugh after a moment and Red Hood also chuckled with the realization. Nightwing didn't look exactly ecstatic but he did seem ready to burst out laughing. Robin looked rather confused and annoyed and Danny wondered if the kid had any meme knowledge while Red Robin groaned but then appeared to smile in good humor.

Once Danny stopped playing with the REM Pod, Red Robin walked over to a table and put the case under it on top. He opened it and placed a raidio looking like thing on the table as well as a camera with a screen on it.

"Now, Mr. Ghost. I know you have a voice we heard before but you seem to appear to prefer not talking to us directly and whatever made you talk last time doesn't seem to be around tonight. So I have a spirit box and a SLS Camera additionally prepared here." Red Robin switched on the 'radio' and it started making white noises filtering through radio channels, he turned back towards the room holding the camera up with the screen facing the teen. The other vigilantes also appeared stunned by how prepared Red Robin was. Danny could only blinked as he realized that Red Robin was pointing it directly at him and for a second he wondered if that thing was actually picking up his movements or if it only picked up static or blurred images like the cameras back at home that were not old film.

"Let's have a talk this way, shall we?"

-Seriously?- Danny muttered making sure he was using ghost speech so they wouldn't hear him only to slap his hands in realization over his mouth as the Spirit box statically repeated his words understandable for them.

Wide eyed he stared at Red Robin who grinned triumphantly at him, he was still invisible at least... right?

[written-in-flowers]

Her Mate: Demon!Seonghwa x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Incubi!Seonghwa x Fem!Reader

Genre: smut, fluff, angst, MINORS DNI

Word Count: 9k

Summary: Seonghwa's "unconventional" upbringing gave him a strong sense of self-control. Yet, whenever he is near you, he finds himself weakening at the sight of his "mate".

Tags: polyamorous relationship, open relationship, m/m/m/f relationship, light dom/dub themes, implied childhood trauma, implied underage sex, mentions of bisexual sex, incest, office sex, oral sex (m. and f. receiving/giving), anal fingering, rimming, rimjob, vaginal fingering, rough oral sex, window sex, mind games (not on reader), implied dub-con (not with reader), foreplay, nipple play, breast play, tongue fucking (vaginal and anal), messy cum stuff, spitting, light spanking, self-lubrication, cum swallowing. Also, if you happen to know who Marquis de Sade is...um, yeah, he's mentioned too.

Pretty Lady Masterlist

Previously on Pretty Lady

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***

“And if I only could, I’d make a deal with God and I’d get him to swap our places. Be running up that road, be running up that hill, be running up that building with no problems…”

He found the song suitable for your voice. Seonghwa often thought you had the soprano range of the singer, which befit the genre and eras you loved so much. Of course, you could sing a bit higher but not by much. Yeosang begrudgingly admitted you had a nice singing voice, though could use improvement. Seonghwa disagreed. He enjoyed listening to you sing while you tended to your plants or danced around your room or dressed or undressed or any other time he caught you. You often became shy or awkward when you knew someone watched you, like the beautiful singing birds on the branches. So, whenever he caught wind of your voice, he quietly approached. 

Seonghwa found you in your bedroom, headphones on and head nodding to the music while you worked. He noticed small bags of dirt and fertilizer beside your desk and on the other side bags of various seeds. He knew you sometimes grew plants in your bedroom, turning it into a smaller version of a greenhouse, but they’re usually stuck to the walls or floors. This one sat in a small pot. Seonghwa leaned against your bedpost, brushing his fingers over the peonies on the footboard, while he enjoyed your singing. It was similar to watching an animal in its natural habitat. You looked at ease, unguarded and peaceful. He liked you this way. The slave he’d known always remained quiet, obedient in doing what she was told. The Lady of Eden spoke her mind often and even bit back. Seonghwa wondered if that was the real you. He imagined the ambitious, clever woman who managed to break the glass ceiling into power with her looks alone. Just because you didn’t go to college didn’t mean you weren’t intelligent. A woman owning her own scamming company needed a brain. 

“Oh come on, baby. Oh, come on, darling. Let me steal this moment from you now. Oh, come on angel. Come on, come on, darling. Let’s exchange the experience.”

“What are you up to, Kitten?” he asked, unable to call you anything else now. 

You jumped at his voice, laughing softly from the small rush. “Gaia showed me how to make hybrid plants,” you told him, removing the headphones. “I’ve been giving it a shot.”

Ever since your family decided to train you themselves, your powers have grown exponentially. Your mother told him you’d taken to your training like a fish to water. She said you had a talent for regrowing and strengthening your “children”. He did note how the greenhouse plants thrived underneath your care, much more than they did with him. Rhea mentioned your stable control. Whenever she purposefully ticked a nerve, no doors blew open or plants shooting to strangle anyone. Seonghwa was glad for this. He’d worried he’d be replacing broken doors for all eternity. 

“Come look,” you beckoned him over to your desk. When he reached you, he saw a tiny sprout in the plant. About the height of a pencil, it had arrowhead petals the color of opals with a center a blood red. The flower moved to “look” at him, and he heard it give the softest of coos. “I thought of making flowers that have gemstone colors,” you said. “I think they’d look beautiful. This one is supposed to be opals. I hope when it gets bigger, the petals shine like them too.”

“It’s gorgeous,” he said, putting an arm around your waist. “Is this the first one?”

“No,” you frowned. “The first two didn’t take or die right away. This one has lasted overnight, so I have high hopes for her.” 

You cupped the top of the flower, running your thumb over a petal. He saw how lovingly you looked at your creations. 

“Sometimes, I wish I was a plant,” he said without thinking. 

“What?” you looked over at him, amused.

“Then perhaps you’d look at me the way you look at them,” he said, gazing over your face. 

“I do,” you admitted, turning to him. “You’re just not looking at me when I do it. It kind of ruins the whole ‘looking-when-they’re-not-looking’ if you knew.” 

You slid your hands up his chest to his shoulders. Briefly, he thought back to the first time he’d seen you. The glowing firelight behind you illuminated your features, and caught itself in your hair. You shook with fear, but that quickly dissipated when he licked your center. Not because you’d fallen in love with him, but because you saw you weren’t going to “die”. You understood the benefits of being a duke’s pet. Being a slave to one of Asmodeus’s heirs came with more pros than cons. However, as time went on, he hoped your feelings might have changed. Perhaps you no longer see him as your ‘Master’, whom you must obey and fear, but as a partner. A lover. A ‘mate’, as his mother had said. Gently, he caressed your cheek as he studied your face. 

“Which you’re doing right now,” you giggled, breaking him free of his thoughts. 

“Forgive me,” he said. “I…I get caught up in my thoughts, sometimes.”

“Well, what were you thinking about?”

“How my mother called you my ‘mate’ the other day.”

“She’d said that?”

“You weren’t in the room. She’d said, ‘I heard you have a mate. What’s it like biting from the same apple as your brothers, Seonghwa?’”

“Ugh, she’s the worst. What did you say?”

“That you’re more of a peach than an apple,” he smirked, pecking your lips, “And that sharing you with people I love doesn’t bother me at all.”

“It doesn’t?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I love my brothers. I love them more than what is considered appropriate,” he huffed a laugh, “So sharing you with them doesn’t bother me. I take it that it doesn’t bother you either?”

“Not one bit,” you grinned, arms around his middle. “I’m a lucky girl.”

“Very,” he said, hands going up and down your back. The sweet honeyed scent he loved threatened to overpower his senses. “Would you want to be?”

“Be lucky? Yeah.”

“No,” he chuckled, “Be my…Be my mate.”

“Like a girlfriend?”

“Sure.” 

“I thought I was?” you looked up at him. “Did you think we weren’t?”

“I didn’t know what to think, if I am honest,” he admitted. “This all happened quite suddenly, and I haven’t had a moment to really think about it.” 

“You? Mr. Brooding didn’t have time to mull over something for hours?” you teased, making him smile rather than scowl. 

“I’ve been concerned with more important things lately,” he said. “Also, I…”

“Was scared that I wouldn’t feel the same way,” you finished for him. 

“Yes,” he breathed bashfully. 

“I do,” you said. “I can’t believe I do, but nobody has ever made me feel how you and the others do.” You played with the serpent stick pin on his tie. “The guys I dated before felt so shallow and meaningless. They left just as fast as they’d appeared. Most of them had wives or girlfriends too, whom they always chose over me, their ‘mistress’. I…” you stared at the golden pin, not wanting to meet his eyes as you spoke, “I meant nothing to them. I want to say they meant nothing to me, but that wasn’t always true. I did like some of them. But, I always knew it wouldn’t last. I had goals, and sometimes I gave up nice things for them. My life seems so hollow now that I look back at it. I had no one. Nobody stayed or wanted to stay.” He spotted tears glistening in your eyes and you turned away. 

“You have me,” he said, gently lifting your chin. “I want to stay, and I want you to stay. I feared you might decide to live in Eden after all, and leave me. Thoughts of never seeing your face or hearing your singing made me feel empty.” 

You smiled softly, tracing his sharp jaw down to his neck. “And I thought San was the romantic one.”

“I can be too,” he said, taking your hand to kiss your knuckles, “When the mood strikes me.” 

“You remind me of those guys in those sappy dime-store novels,” you said.

“Dime-store novels?”

“You know, the little books they sell in the magazine section that have those dramatic, idealized covers? You remind me of them. There’s always these long love confessions and romance scenes that lead into steamy sex right afterwards. She’ll be a woman running away from something or have a traumatizing past; he’ll always be the small town farmer or the shopkeeper or a lumberjack with a stern face but heart of gold. They find each other through various circumstances-it changes all the time- and end up falling in love despite the odds.”

He chuckled at your description, supposing it might be true. “You mean bodice-ripper romances?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you shrugged. “The girl is always swooning and the guy has his shirt open, and he’s super muscular. You remind me of them a little bit.”

“That I’m muscular and always have my shirt open? Sounds more like San to be fair.”

You giggled, “Because you’re the sexy bookish guy who pretends he’s not interested in the protagonist when really he is.” He let your fingers hook around his lapel to bring him in for a kiss. 

“Except I make my interest in you very known.”

He gave you a few brief kisses, wanting desperately to go further. Seonghwa knew the result of kissing you too deeply, and the temptation reached inside him the longer he stood in front of you.

“Don’t go,” you said, your lips against his. “Stay with me.”

“I have work to do.”

“Is it really that important?” you asked, hands going into his black curls. You gave him a few pecks, then said, “So important you’d leave me behind?” You placed his hand on your chest, urging him to fondle you. “I thought you loved me.”

“I do,” he said, giving it a gentle squeeze, “But unfortunately I do one of the most important jobs in Hell.” He gave you another kiss, controlling his lust for you. “You know I come back at lunch time.” He tugged at the bra strap exposed by your off-the-shoulder shirt, pulling it as far as it’d go. Seonghwa started a trail of kisses from your neck to where the strap stopped. “I never pass on a good dessert,” he said, pressing his lips to the top of your breast.

“I suppose waiting makes it better,” you huffed. “Should I wear your favorite when you come home?”

Seonghwa groaned softly, kissing up your neck. An image of you in his study, wearing a short pleated skirt, cropped top, and knee high socks filled his thoughts. But, responsibility came before pleasure.

“Yes,” he breathed, tempted to tug down your shirt and bra to kiss your nipples. “I’d love that.”

“I can put it on for you now,” you told him in his ear. “Would you like to watch me put it on?”

“I would if I could, Kitten,” he said, forcing himself away from temptation.

“Fine,” you frowned, fixing your shirt. “I’ll stay and wait for you to come back.”

Seonghwa, not wanting to leave you frowning, kissed you one more time as he slid his hand into your shorts. You weren’t wet, but he groaned at the heat on his fingers. You clutched his arm suddenly, stiffening at the hand slowly rubbing circles against your panties. Even if you’d started going around without them, you wore them for him. He liked it because pulling them off you felt more like unwrapping a present, your sweet sex being the gift.

“Jongho,” he called out, watching you slowly uncoil at his touch. He heard Jongho appear from nowhere.

“Yes, Master?”

Seonghwa knew the butler did everything he could not to notice what was happening. He smirked over at him, “Your mistress needs some attention, but sadly I must head to the office. Why don’t you lend her a hand?” He gently pulled down your shorts to reveal the soft, cotton panties underneath. “Where do you want it?”

“I want you right here,” you brought him to you, sitting on the desk while you pulled him between your legs. “Just a few licks at least? Your tongue is so much better.”

“You’ll have my tongue later,” he said, knuckles running up and down your slit. “For now, you can enjoy Jongho’s tongue. Don’t you like getting eaten out by him?”

“I love it,” you said, “But I want you, Master.”

“And you will have it,” he said more firmly, “Later.” He kissed your lips, then turned back around. “Jongho, come here.”

Jongho took his place in front of you. Seonghwa stood and watched as your most loyal servant kissed and fondled you. He knew he was a goner when you passionately kissed him, both your tongues sliding over lips and teeth like eels. Leaning against your bedpost once more, he observed as Jongho started sucking and kissing your nipples. His low groans matched yours as you withdrew him from his trousers. Only half hard, Seonghwa knew with a few more kisses and the right strokes, his cock would be throbbing madly. Soon, Jongho sank to his knees to kiss your center. You held onto the edge of your desk as he deepened it, sliding his tongue over your clothed sex and hands gripping your thighs. Your face scrunched up from pleasure, body shifting to grind to his face, you looked too good to pass up. He knew with a bit of persuasion, his brothers would’ve jumped at the chance, but Seonghwa didn’t.

“Would you like me to take them off, Mistress?” Jongho asked you, “Or simply move them aside?”

“Take them off,” you said, looking over at Seonghwa, “So our master can see your tongue on my clit.”

So he did. You lifted one leg onto the desk to give him a perfect view of your naked pussy. Seonghwa bit his inner cheek, knowing you’re doing everything in your power to bring him back over to you. Jongho stuck out his tongue and flicked it against your clitoris, languidly rolling it counter-clockwise. Seonghwa intently watched the servant tease your folds, wetting them with his tongue and your stickiness. He moved back over to you, but only to remove your shirt and tug down your bra. Seonghwa groped at one of them, pinching and teasing your nipple as Jongho licked your cunt.

“I don’t want him to put anything in you,” he instructed, licking his thumb to rub on your hard nipple. “He can only rub and lick your holes. He can touch and lick any of them, but his dick goes nowhere near them,” he said, looking down to see Jongho sucking your throbbing clit. “Do you know why, Kitten?”

“Because they’re your holes, Master,” you smiled, loving the dynamic between you, “And nobody fucks them but you.”

“That’s right. You’re such a good girl,” he said, moving to grope the other side, “I want you to come to my office at exactly eleven o’clock. There, you’re going to sit on my desk facing the windows, legs open, and patiently wait for me. If you’re not there and/or my holes aren’t presented for me when I get there, I’m going to punish you in my favorite way. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Repeat my order back to me.”

“You want me-me at your office at eleven o’clock, sitting on your desk facing the windows, and presenting your holes patiently. If I’m not there or your holes aren’t ready, you’ll punish me in your favorite way.”

“Good girl,” he gave you a soft kiss. “And, yes, wear my favorite outfit today. No panties. No bra. Just the top, the skirt and those knee-high socks I like.”

“May I-I cu-cum, sir?”

He considered it for a moment. It will be a while before he sees you, and it’d be wrong of him to leave it for so long. “Since you thought to ask, yes,” he nodded, “You may only cum twice. Any more and I punish you.” 

Perhaps he was one of your bodice-ripper characters after all. Jongho sped up his lapping tongue, having you tense in his grasp. He’d kill a slew of men to stay by your side, admiring you as Jongho pleasured you over and over again. Suddenly, he reminded himself of another man he’d grown up with. He’d prefer not to think about him.

He kissed you one last time, a promise of ‘later’ on his lips before he left. The walk from your bedroom to the front door gave him a minute to shake you off him. The warm air outside blew your scent off his clothes, and dried the kisses left on his skin. Everything in him told him to go back inside and ravage you the way you deserved, but he’d learned a long time ago that promises and time make it much better.

‘You make your prey wait. You let them dangle by their wrists, keep the blindfold over their eyes, and let the fear stew inside. By the time you return, the sound of your footsteps amplifies all the senses. If you break them well enough, they’ll grow hard or wet at the thought of you.’

Seonghwa stepped into his carriage, hearing the driver crack a whip to get it moving. Unlike San and Hongjoong, Seonghwa did not grow up in the mountains and hills of southern Korea. He’d been born in a small hanok in a village before being taken away to be raised elsewhere. His mother’s “children'' did not only serve her from her homeland. They served in all corners of the world and came from all walks of life. From the beggar on the streets of London to an advisor to an Egyptian pharaoh, his mother had many followers. She decreed Seonghwa would be raised as nobility, considering he’d be a Duke of Lust when he came of age. She first sent him to the French countryside to live with a witch who’d served her well. Amaline was a Duchess by marriage, having gained her position through black magic and love potions. She told his mother she’d train and educate the boy but only until she birthed a child of her own. Judging by her husband’s crazed obsession with her and their nightly passions, this did not take very long.

At five-years-old, Seonghwa then stayed with a peasant couple in Paris. Dominique and Fabien Bacque owned a very popular bakery in the city, where they forced Seonghwa to work. They believed since his mother never came around, they could get away with treating him like scum. They forced him to go by a “proper” name that was easier to pronounce. 

‘Announcing his lordship, Jean Baptiste Bacque, the filthiest, loathsome rat this side of France!’ Fabien often proclaimed in his dingy bakery, ale in his hand as he and his friends laughed. 

Fabien did not laugh for long, however. When his mother arrived to see him, her fury flared at his condition. Her son, a child of the great demon prince Asmodeus, wore rags and was filthier than a street rat. Her son, a Lord of Hell and Duke of Lust, could not read or write. He recalled the vicious hounds his mother set upon the couple. Seonghwa still remembered their screams as the demonic hellhounds tore them to pieces before his eyes.

Seonghwa, twelve-years-old and still growing, went to live in Paris with a nobleman his mother knew well. While Donatien didn’t serve his mother, the Marquis de Sade served his father faithfully since his late teens. Donatien was not only a nobleman, Seonghwa learned, but a writer, political activist and libertine. If anyone was fit to care and educate her son, it was Donatien. This is when his name changed again.

‘Baptiste is such a common name. From now on, you are Jean Hercule Francois, the new Viscount de Sade.’

Still young and new to the world, Seonghwa took to his new position much faster than Hongjoong did later on. Donatien saw his eagerness to learn, his passion for poetry and music, and let him indulge in things like sword fighting, horse riding, croquet, astrology, botany and science. Seonghwa grew up alongside Donatien’s other children, forging close bonds through their lifetimes. It was when Seonghwa turned fourteen that Donatien took him away to the countryside. In a lavish retreat outside of Paris, Donatien told his protege that he’d be taking over his education from then on. Seonghwa thought he meant language, philosophy, literature, swordplay and etiquette. While he’d been half-way right, Donatien taught him more than just that. 

“We’re here, my lord,” the driver said. 

“Thank you.” 

Seonghwa stepped out of the carriage and walked towards a tall building in the middle of a bustling intersection. On the fringes of the main gates, crowds of lost souls wandered in through the stone entrance, crossed a wide bridge, and right into the bowels of the tower. There, they’d be funneled into the long, winding halls of the lower cells where they’d be taken into rooms to be assessed. Seonghwa led a team of demons who had the same mind digging ability as him. Seonghwa reached the glass doors, withdrew his employee ID and swiped to gain entry. He bypassed coworkers on their way into work, making idle chatter in the elevators just to keep up appearances. But, his mind kept going back to his old mentor and guardian, Donatien. 

He started with simple drawings and sharing the pornography he wrote. Donatien taught Seonghwa all about the human anatomy from erogenous zones to the various acts people can do to achieve pleasure. He often brought prostitutes to the estate to perform demonstrations. Donatien would lie with them while Seonghwa watched through a hole in the wall. He explained all the new thoughts, curiosities and sensations his adolescent brain took in. Soon, Seonghwa was sitting beside the bed as Donatien engaged in sexual acts with both men and women. Then, Seonghwa moved to the bed, where his teacher taught him how to pleasure his partners. Donatien hosted full on orgies in his home just for his “son” to experiment and indulge in all sorts of acts. If it weren’t for his demon blood, Seonghwa is sure he would’ve contracted a disease.

When Seonghwa was sixteen, Donatien showed him what he’d done with the servant girls he’d hired to attend to his son.

“Good morrow, Seonghwa,” an elderly demon said as he walked by the elevator. “A fine day for digging, huh? Lots of fresh prisoners down in the dungeons today!”

“As there are every minute of every day, Lord Byron,” said Seonghwa good naturedly. “How are things in your section?”

“Wonderful,” he smiled. “Absolutely wonderful. Our numbers have gone up since that terrible war ended. I forget which one, but it’s one of the larger ones. Yours?”

“We’ve kept good numbers. Nothing to boast of by all means, but my team does their best with what we’ve gotten.”

“You’ll come up soon, son. You’re very talented for such a young demon.”

Seonghwa and Lord Byron talked on their way to sections four and six of the office floors. The pair split up, and Seonghwa walked through a door into a long hallway. 

Bondage. Sadism. Masochism. Using ropes, whips, chains, and canes to bring pain and pleasure to his partners became the primary focus of his teenage studies. They did not have the advanced sex toys of the modern age, but they had the basics. Seonghwa didn’t like the bloody, violent extremes Donatien took his partners to, but he enjoyed breaking them. Not only in body, but in the mind. He learned how to turn a servant girl from reluctant to desperate with more than slaps to the ass. He learned about his talent for mind digging during this time. It was easy to persuade and trick others when he knew their deepest, darkest desires. He often used it for personal gain or to have an advantage over a rival, but he enjoyed it most in his dungeon.

“Morning, Mr. Park,” said a young woman sitting at a desk beside his office door.

Seonghwa noticed how Mya’s tight button blouse and pencil skirt made her scarlet skin pop. Thin stockings covered her long legs, ending just beneath the hem of the skirt. Behind her thin rimmed glasses, bright orange eyes twinkled at him flirtatiously. A look to tantalize him. Seonghwa didn’t particularly care. Mya looked like every other succubus he’d met throughout his life. He honestly had trouble telling them apart sometimes. 

“Morning,” he said. “Mya, I have an important meeting at eleven o’clock, and I don’t want to be disturbed.”

“Of course, sir,” she typed out the order in her computer, “The person’s name?”

“YN,” he told her. “You’ll know her when you see her, trust me.”

“Shall I cancel your appointment with your brother then?”

“Yes, go ahead. Hongjoong will understand.”

Hongjoong would do the same thing if it were him, and he’d understand. 

He remembered the day he’d come to get his little brother from his village in Korea. A scruffy boy with crimson hair hanging over defiant eyes, Hongjoong didn’t like the posh life Seonghwa lived for so long. He didn’t share the French people’s catholic views, he scowled at their abundance and wealth, and spat at their feet when they criticized him. Seonghwa did his best to educate and train his brother to be a gentleman, but Hongjoong was far from it. At fifteen, he was getting drunk and gambling with the scum of the city. He bedded whores of all kinds, and engrossed himself in depravity. Donatien took a liking to him right away and so did Seonghwa. He’d never known a boy to be so bold and brash; he’d never met someone who scowled at priests, spat at city guards, and laughed in the face of authority figures. It intrigued him. He’d started sharing his partners with Hongjoong, but it seemed his brother only desired one person.

“Put it in me, Hwa. I want us to be one,” he’d said, whining and squirming as Seonghwa jerked him off during a hunting trip. 

When Donatien went to prison for his lewd, lascivious behavior, which was illegal at the time, it became only them. Seonghwa and Hongjoong disappeared into their own world in that retreat. They were two demons who’d found each other in an ever-changing world. Neither of them had ever met another demon before, but everything they felt came so naturally. Him admiring Hongjoong’s narrow, upturned nose and soft lips as he slept felt as natural as watching the clouds drift by. They didn’t hide their love. They didn’t care if the church and the law spoke against it. Hongjoong and him shared a bond that nobody else understood. 

Seonghwa logged into his computer, where a photo came up on the screen. San. Sweet San who loved freely and often. In the picture, he sat lounging by a window laughing at a joke Hongjoong told. His smile lit up his face and squinted his eyes, a look that made people swoon. San came along much later with slicked back hair and a fancy suit. Unlike Hongjoong and Seonghwa who arrived in Hell when they came of age, San had died in the living world. He didn’t like mulling over the details, and he never pushed for details. All he knew was his brother died young and brutally. Fifteen, skinnier than a twig with lost puppy eyes, the pair brought him into their ancient home right away. Seonghwa trained him to be the proper gentleman Hongjoong refused to be. He’d decided while they might be Asmodeus’s sons, they would not be scoundrels. They would uphold the family name and image. Hongjoong struggled with that most days. 

San, on the other hand, was a golden boy. Not only physically attractive, and kind-hearted, he proved to be an athlete as well. His skill with weaponry remained unmatched in Seonghwa’s eyes. He’d seen sixteen-year-old San take down a full grown demon with quick, fluid movements. Some people found it hard to believe San was Asmodeus’s son with his skills. The skinny boy who’d come to his doorstep bloody and weeping turned into a golden god. Seonghwa and Hongjoong found it harder and harder to ignore his physical beauty as he grew. They’d taken to watching him bathe through peepholes or finding excuses to get him naked in front of them. Seonghwa never admitted he’d bought the hot tub as another way to admire his sweet brother’s body. 

“If you wanted to watch me jerk off, you could’ve just asked,” he’d said when he confronted them in the lounge one night. 

The three of them became inseparable. 

“Seonghwa,” the call came after three knocks on the door. An older demon with stark white hair and olive green skin stood in a tweed suit in the doorway. “How are you, old boy?”

“Wishing I’d stayed home,” he snorted with a laugh that the man joined. 

“After seeing that lovely mate of yours, I don’t blame you,” he said. “Urik’s called a department meeting. He says it’s urgent.”

“I’ll be there.”

The man disappeared, and Seonghwa thought about what he’d said. ‘Mate’. He’d heard many people refer to you with the primitive term. He thought about what you’d both talked about, and it made him fonder of you. 

He wished he’d given in to you. 

****

“Minos dares to say we have been misplacing prisoners.” 

“What does he mean by that? We are the ones who see into their misdeeds and only give suggestions.”

The meeting would never end. Seonghwa leaned back in the leather chair, eyes constantly glancing over to the clock on the wall. It’d be eleven in fifteen minutes. In fifteen minutes, he’d have you in his arms. In fifteen minutes, he’d be entirely consumed by you. But first, he must suffer the most boring part of his job: manager meetings. 

This could’ve been an email. 

“He believes we’re being too careless with our suggestions. He says a person who should’ve been sentenced to Wrath was instead sentenced to Pride.”

“Yes, because the prisoners carried out their misdeeds through their pride.”

He wondered if you’d cum at all. You must have. It’s been three hours since he left home. You’ve likely already used up your two free orgasms by now. Seonghwa liked imagining Jongho, drunk on your lips, pleasuring you as long as he physically could. He already knew you could go for hours with your heightened sexual appetite and stamina. Seonghwa thought of every time he laid with you and his brothers. With the natural lust of demons and the constant burning desire combined with your special kisses, the four of you made love almost nonstop. Once Seonghwa tasted one of you, he found it hard to stop. 

“But he claims the wrath outweighs the pride.”

He couldn’t wait to taste you. He might take off the entire day just to have you to himself. 

“Seonghwa, what do you make of these claims?”

He snapped out of his thoughts and looked up. At a long table in a conference room, Seonghwa sat with the heads of departments and his boss, a demon named Urik. The whole table turned when Urik addressed him. He must have appeared too in thought. 

“That Minos is being his usual stubborn, complicated self,” he answered, grasping at an answer. “For thousands of years, he’s made claims that we’re not working to his standards. He sits in his chair, passes judgment, and acts as if it’s our fault if the prisoner is sent back. The man takes no responsibility for his own faults.”

“As I have said,” claimed another demon, Lucinda. “We cannot take him so seriously, Urik. His mind is going and his judgment wanes.” 

Urik, broad and red, nodded with his hands clasped on the desk. “Regardless, Prince Belphegor has commanded all of us to undergo training courses-”

“-Training courses?” exclaimed Bazil, green and horned. “Uh-uh, I will not retake a bunch of baby courses because Minos has convinced the Prince of Sloth that we do not take our jobs seriously. I am extremely thorough with my digs, and give the most sensible, honest suggestions I can make.” 

“Regardless, it is The Prince’s command and we must abide by it,” said Urik. He picked up a stack of binders that he handed to Lucinda. Seonghwa watched them be passed around the table. “These are the recommended courses. It details everything from basic training to advanced digging techniques. I want you to relay this order to your teams, and make sure they are done by the weekend.”

“You’re not serious?” asked an elderly, pot-bellied demon named Arthur. “My team has been working all week on a new batch of prisoners. They can’t be expected to put that aside to work on this.”

“They will have to find the time,” said Urik.

Seonghwa opened the binder to study the different courses. It’d be like Minos, Judge of Souls, to lay blame on the sin seers. He wondered who’d placed you. Personally, he would’ve sent you to Greed rather than Lust. A good chunk of your actions were fueled by a desire for more: more money, more power, and more respect. It could be argued that you enjoyed the feeling of triumph and superiority over the actual material rewards. 

“Urik, you know how ridiculous this is,” said Lucinda.

He then thought of your behavior this morning. You’d ensnared him with your charms and pouting, and he almost gave into it. You loved how sex made you feel, and not only the physical reactions either. It makes you feel desirable. It gave you the power others tried having over you. He knew he was powerless against your charms. Seonghwa could still smell your essence in his nose, driving him back into those desires again. If you’d lived in his time, he’d never want anyone but you and Hongjoong ever again. 

“I understand your frustration, but we cannot ignore a royal command,” said Urik. “I want all courses finished by Friday. You're dismissed.”

The group groaned and left the table. Seonghwa knew his own team wouldn't like the extra workload. They worked exclusively in the 4th and 5th sectors of Limbo, where souls are determined before being sent to Minos for final judgment. Seonghwa heard his department only existed because of Minos's constant deaths and rebirths. He pictured the aged god sitting upon a golden throne, nearly blind and half-mad. Members of his team already complained that he sent too many people back, and that he didn't know one day from the next. When Seonghwa tells them about Belphegor's command, they'll be upset for sure. 

Walking through the busy office, Seonghwa went to the elevator and punched in his floor number. His mind floated back to you, and wondering what you might be doing. He liked the idea of Jongho still in your bed, the both of you pleasuring one another every way possible. However, realistically, you would’ve stopped by now. He hoped Jongho hadn’t tired you out too much. Seonghwa didn’t want you to perform if you didn’t feel up to doing it. 

“The nerve of him, huh?” Lucinda entered the elevator after him, irritated. “I can't wait until the bastard croakes. Then Urik takes over while he’s gone.”

“It can't be long now,” said Seonghwa. His body buzzed with anticipation. In several minutes, he’ll be finding you on his desk wet and needy. He hoped, at least. “He already can't stand up.” Your pussy is so pretty when in the light, especially when wet.  

“Too bad he doesn't have the cane yet. I'd have a laugh knocking it out from under him.” The two shared a half-hearted laugh, then she said, “I saw your mate the other day.”

“Huh?”

“Your mate,” she repeated. “The Princess Lilith’s granddaughter. She's an absolute gem. I ran into her at the hardware place buying more gardening supplies. She's such a delight. You must bring her to the office party this year.”

“I wouldn't dream of taking anyone else.”

There was that word again: ‘Mate’. It had him thinking about it again. 

“But, I suppose you call her your ‘girlfriend’. All you young people use that word now.”

“It means the same thing,” they got off on the floor together. “They're interchangeable.”

“Barely,” she replied. “Girlfriend sounds so informal and distant. Mate,” she grinned fondly, “That one sounds much deeper.” 

“I suppose.”

Lucinda had a point. He thought about it as they parted ways. The word ‘girlfriend’ implied some kind of distance between the both of you. ‘Mate’ carried a sense of closeness: it meant a deep connection that others couldn’t explain. He liked the idea of you possibly being “The One”. His father never expected him to marry, and his mother's opinion didn't matter at all. Yet, the idea of you with his last name did not sound so bad. 

The tortured cries and pleas of the prisoners pulled him from his thoughts. Walking into a long hallway, he could hear his coworkers and their prisoners behind the doors. It became white noise at this point. He knew behind the steel doors, dozens of sinners fresh from the gates laid strapped to tables as a demon burrowed into their minds. Piece by piece, the demon pulled back the layers to see right into their soul. Seonghwa understood it to be an excruciating process to undergo. He’d seen it in the faces of those in his chair; he took in how they screamed and begged for mercy. He only laughed. Mercy? In Hell? Ridiculous.

The excitement fueled the arousal slowly rising inside him. Behind the door, he assumed, you’d be sitting on his desk with your legs apart for him. He turned the knob slowly and looked inside.

As he hoped, you sat propped up on your hands with your back to the door. By the way your feet were placed on the edge, he knew anyone who might be looking out the windows will see you splay out for them. You’d put on the outfit he requested, kindling his hardon. He closed and locked the door and walked over to you.

“There’s my sweet kitten,” he said, moving around the desk to you. “Oh, don’t you make a delicious sight?”

No panties, as requested, your smooth sex glistened in the sunlight coming from the wide windows. Without your bra, the shirt accentuated the natural curves of your breasts and the peaks of your nipples. You bit back your lip when he slid his hand from your knee to your inner thigh. He gave it a small squeeze as he stood in front of you. Seonghwa took a moment to caress and massage them in their bent position. You trembled each time his thumbs pressed to the sides of your sex before pulling back. His hands left your thighs for your sides, running up the dips of your waist to the bottoms of your breasts. He couldn’t stop himself from grazing your nipples through the shirt. He looked at your reactions while he lightly teased them. 

Eyes heavy with need and lust, you bit your lower lip to keep your moans from coming out. He saw the way your body slightly twitched whenever he touched your lower stomach, moving dangerously close to the bent position of your body. He sailed up your arms, moving up your shoulders to your neck where he pulled you in for a gentle kiss. There, he licked and tugged at your bottom lip with great risk to his own stability. He unfolded you from your position, letting your legs hang from the desk as his arms went around you. Being this close to you, surrounded by your sweet scent and feeling your soft skin made him understand what Lucinda meant. A mate is a partner for life. A mate is someone who's just as much a part of you as you are of them. Seonghwa slid a hand up the nape of your neck, touching your scalp and giving the roots a tender tug to keep you in place. As much as he loved his brothers, he found himself falling deeper in love with you.

Neither of you said anything as he removed your top, putting it to the side and giving him access to your naked chest.

“Undress me,” he said between kisses. “I want to feel your skin on mine.”

You started with his tie, removing the expensive gold pin and putting it on the desk. Heat flared in the middle of your passionate kisses. Seonghwa wanted to throw you onto the desk and pound you into the wood. Yet, he controlled himself. Donatien taught him all about self-control and restraint. He learned never to hasten the act. Drawing it out and letting it slowly simmer over time added to the bliss of the orgasm later. Seonghwa exhaled deeply once you unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders as you explored his torso. Your hands ignited him. Your delicate fingers traced the lines of his abdomen, sliding up them to his broad chest where your thumbs brushed his nipples. He shut his eyes to savor your lips dotting his neck and chest. He took in the softness sucking on the base of his neck; it was enough to bring a bit of pain before licking. The center of his pants grew tighter and more restrictive as his cock hardened. The feeling of your bodies brushing his stoked that further. He groaned when you nipped your teeth at his nipple, causing him to bring you to kiss him again. This didn’t stop you from pinching it instead. 

“How long?” he asked in a raspy breath, unable to stop kissing you.

“Not too long,” you answered.

“Did you cum at all?”

“Once. I wanted to save the other ones for you.”

He groaned after hearing this. Making a trail of kisses to your breasts, he took one nipple in his mouth. You started undoing his belt and the fly of his pants, whining at the slightest suggestion of his cock close to your hands. Your nipple hardly moved as his tongue flicked and rolled around it. The wrinkled areola tightened up to the pert tips, which he suckled softly before giving it a tender nibble. A low hum left him once you tugged down his pants, leaving his underwear on for the moment. 

“What else did you two do?” he asked, switching sides to repeat the action.

“I licked and stroked him back,” you said, grabbing him through his underwear. “I used my strap on him.”

“You did?” the picture he created pushed his hand between your thighs. 

“You said he couldn’t fuck my holes. You didn’t say I couldn’t fuck his.”

He chuckled through his teeth, giving your nipple another bite that made you jump. “Clever,” he groaned with one more suckle before gently laying you on the desk. “I bet he loved every second of it.”

“He did,” you said, straightening yourself on it. “Since he asked me to fuck him a few more times. I wish you’d been there too. Then you could’ve fucked me while I fucked him.”

“There’s always time for that,” he said, kissing down to the waistband of your skirt. “Right now, I want you to myself.”

He took a seat at the desk, and raised your skirt up to your stomach. Being close to your sex this way made him salivate. Your velvety folds showed small glimmers of your arousal, while your clit remained hard underneath its hood. Pulling at the top, Seonghwa stretched it upwards before giving it a gentle lick. You gripped at the bunched fabric of your skirt, ready for the waves of pleasure you’d soon be feeling. He loved knowing you anticipated it. He loved knowing how his tongue and fingers drove you over the edge over and over. It was like the prostitutes who used to come through his home: he’d be relentless and merciless when it came to that special place inside them. It made him feel powerful. It gave him control over them. 

He kept your pussy in this position as he lapped at it at a measured pace. You whimpered and cried out each time he swirled his tongue around your clit, jerking when he zigzagged over it right after. He licked down to your entrance, where more fluids leaked out when he dipped his tongue into it. The rim of your entrance opened easily at the tip sticking inside, your bumpy ridged walls nearly pulling at it each time he pushed inwards. He couldn’t get enough of your sweet taste. He’d choose your pussy over the finest meal Cook could make for him anytime.

You cried out when his fingers replaced his tongue. He’d seen loads of pussy in his life, but none as nice as yours. Perhaps it’s because he loved you, so he admired yours the most. Maybe your pussy really is the best he’s ever seen. Either way, he lazily traced the swollen lips with his tongue, barely grazing the aching clit and entrance. He dipped his fingers to the second knuckle to hear you mutter a curse under your breath. Seonghwa grew harder the longer he played with your sex. He rolled his fingers side to side over the nub of your clit; he drooled onto it to slicken the soaked puffy lips. You started playing with your breasts, needing more pleasure on top of what he’d given you, and he didn’t stop you. 

“You’re always so tight for me, Kitten,” he groaned when he slipped two fingers in sideways, watching your hole stretch to accommodate them. “Do you keep it that way for me?”

You nodded, “I don’t use toys or fingers when I touch myself. I only rub it so I keep your holes stay extra tight for you.”

He moaned internally when you said ‘your holes’ instead of ‘my holes’. The thought of owning you even without your collar made him harder. He fingered you slowly, watching his long fingers gleam with your juices. “How thoughtful,” he said, spitting on your clit again to spread it around. “All of my holes?” he asked, standing to push his wet fingers into your mouth. “Even your ass?” you only nodded while you sucked your juices from his fingers. “Let me see it then. Roll over for me.”

You stopped sucking fingers and shifted around until you were on your stomach. The anticipation made you grind into the edge of his desk, legs automatically spreading to give him more access to you. He dragged his hand up the backs of your thighs to then squeeze the bottom curves of your ass. When he gave one side a light tap, you twitched. Seonghwa continued doing this, keeping the slaps light and tender. He groped one cheek, seeing the fatty flesh knead like dough to his hand. Lifting and spreading them apart, he groaned seeing both entrances exposed to him now.  Your ass hole, clenched closed and hairless, fluttered when he slipped his tongue from perineum to the crack of your bottom. You trembled, but forced yourself to remain still. His tongue circling the rim of your ass, the other went back to caressing your dripping sex. You moaned when both digits stroked against your taut walls.

“Did Jongho lick you here, Kitten?” he asked, sliding over the rim of your hole while pushing two fingers deep inside you.

“Ye-yes,” you whimpered.

“Did he fuck you here?”

“No.”

“Good girl,” he praised, flicking at it the way you enjoyed. He knew just the vulgarity of the act aroused you. “I’m putting a plug in you the next time I take you out,” he promised, stopping to watch your pussy stretch around his fingers. “Just so I can watch you squirm from it being up inside you while you sit. Would you like that?”

“Yes,” you said, “Yes, so much.”

He chuckled, “Dirty slut. You’d do just about anything, huh? There’s nothing off limits for you, is there?”

“Hardly.”

He gave your ass a light tap before sticking his tongue into your ass in time with his fingers. It was then he noticed it. Your ass grew just as wet as your pussy. He knew his servants’ backsides self-lubricated when stimulated, but yours never had. Perhaps it did and he didn’t notice with the lubricant and saliva applied beforehand. It tasted just as good. Seonghwa’s cock twitched against his stomach realizing that your body truly was made for fucking. You were a beautiful half-succubus with a gorgeous body that carried the endurance and stamina to keep up with the appetite of a full-blooded demon. It made him want you more.

“Master,” you breathed, clutching the edge of the desk as his fingers continued penetrating and circling your insides, “Please don’t stop. That feels so good.”

“I know it does,” he pushed both fingers in deep, watching your legs kick up as he wriggled his fingers in your pussy. “There’s nothing my kitten loves more than having both holes filled at the same time.” He kept pulling them in and out, listening to you become a whimpering mess in front of him. “It’s a shame I wasn’t blessed with two cocks,” he said, withdrawing them to go back to rubbing. “Then I can fuck these at the same time.” Still fingering your sex, he bent down to flick his tongue on your ass hole. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful, Kitten?” he asked, listening to you moan at his warm tongue. “Wouldn’t you like me having two dicks for you to play with?”

“God, yes. Oh fuck, that’d be a dream.” 

“I happen to know people who do,” he sneered, standing up from his chair. “They’d love to meet you,” he slapped your ass again before finally pulling his dick out. He let it rest on your ass, groaning at the contact and how large he looked in comparison. “You’d have no problem taking both if you can take mine,” he said, spitting on his tip to rub it over your leaking hole. 

The sudden touch made you twitch and kick a leg up. Sensitive too. He loved that about you. The image of you taking more than one always excited him. He slid his head down to your pussy, rubbing his throbbing tip on it in slow circles.

“Master,” you whined, “Put it inside me, please. I need it so bad, please.”

“Is that right?”

In all honesty, he tortured himself as much as he did you. As he sunk up to the head, he hissed through his teeth. Your heat tried pulling him further, with your hips pushing back into his before he held you in place.

“I asked you a question, Kitten,” he said, “Is that right?”

“Yes, it is.”

“How badly do you need it?” he withdrew to rub himself against your clit.

“Really, really, really bad.”

“Show me,” he said, removing his hands from your waist and lining himself up with you. He brushed the very tip of himself to you, “Show me how bad you’ve been wanting it.”

Your lack of hesitation amused him. Instant satisfaction came when you sunk your aching cunt onto his cock. His dick sliding in and out, filling and stretching you while you bounced against his hips became a mesmerizing sight. You kept your hands flat on the desk, legs further apart as you backed up against him as much as you could. Each time his tip reached your g-spot, he felt you grip him tighter. The tight sensation started in his balls, threatening to rise up to the base of his cock where his dick suddenly became sensitive. Pulling your buttocks apart, he spat onto your ass and started rubbing it. Slick, clear fluid lubricated your hole enough for him to slide two fingers inside. Neither pushing or pulling, he kept his fingers knuckle deep as a toy might. This had you grinding and rocking up to his balls, enjoying the whirl of sensations he created for you.

Soon enough, Seonghwa saw you clawing his desk and shuddering as your orgasm approached. This urged him to hold you by the hip and start thrusting with the same speed as before. The sound of his balls slapping your throbbing clit and your ass hitting his hips brought you right to the brink.

“May I cum, Ma-M-Master?” you whined.

“Yes, you may, Kitten.”

With a few more thrusts, your entire body stiffened at the climax. Thighs shaking, hips desperately meeting his own, your back arched as you moaned freely. He felt your pussy thickly coat him in your cum, making a sticky mess over his balls in the process. Seonghwa kept going even when your orgasm started subsiding.

“On your knees,” he ordered, taking in deep breaths as he pulled out. “I’m going to cum down your pretty throat.”

Immediately, you got into position and opened your mouth. Hands holding you by the hair, Seonghwa shoved himself inside your mouth. The back of your throat squeezed and hummed around his tip, causing him to hold you there for several seconds at a time. His orgasm finally arrived when you cupped and rubbed his ballsack. Your warm hand smearing your cum over each sensitive side had Seonghwa burying his dick deep. Spurts of thick cum squirted into your mouth, and you did your best to swallow them quickly. His dick became incredibly tender to your soft lips and tongue, twitching as each stroke brought out more cum for you to taste. When he pulled out, you spat what remained in your mouth back onto his tip to stroke him with it. He watched in amazement, panting as his body relaxed, as you licked and sucked every drop you could.

“I want you to keep sucking it,” he said, slapping his dick onto your tongue. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He sat back in his chair as you continued sucking his cock. Seonghwa’s first orgasm didn’t soften him at all. It would take a bit more than that to satisfy him. Since you barely took him out of your mouth, the combination of spit, cum and precum created a creamy substance that leaked around your lips. You used it to jerk him off in tandem with your mouth. He could tell you wanted him to give you more. He noticed the hand you’d put between your legs and it excited him.

“Does sucking me off turn you on, baby?” he asked, stuffing himself into your throat before you could answer. He chuckled softly when you nodded, bobbing your head up and down but never taking him out completely. “Enough to cum while you’re doing it?” he smiled at your eager moans, and realized how you lightly and rapidly brushed your clit. “I want you to do that for me,” he said, starting to guide your head on his dick, “I want my slut to cum while I’m fucking her mouth. I’d love that more than anything.”

Your obedience astounded him. He loved your duality. With Jongho, you’re a dominating mistress who keeps him on edge for hours. With him, you’re a submissive eager to serve. Seonghwa’s jaw fell, realizing you’d kept yourself on the edge of another orgasm the entire time. He saw it in quaking shoulders and high muffled moans. He held you in place again as he took control, eager to make you cum from oral alone. In a few more thrusts, you began trembling and moaning around his girth. Even through the gagging and choking, he knew your orgasm when he saw it. You wriggled around on the floor, unable to get a hold on yourself as you came on your hand. When you finished, Seonghwa pulled out and brought you onto his lap. By your hips, he started pushing into your tight walls once more.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he groaned, hearing the slick sounds of your cum mixing with his own inside you. “You’re such a good whore,” he said, not holding back with his thrusts. “A good whore that’s going to keep making me cum until I say so.” 

“Because your dick is so good, Master,” you said in his ear, holding onto his shoulders until your nails dug into his skin. “It’s big and thick and-a-and you fuck me so good and for so long. Please, keep fucking me. Make my pussy your cocksleeve to-to use whene-ever you want.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he growled, getting closer to another orgasm, the oversensitivity starting to hit him down to his toes. “I will.”

“Do it. Do it, please.” 

He wrapped his arms around you, smacking and grabbing your ass as you rode him in his chair. He teased and fingered your ass to his heart’s content before he felt his next climax approaching. You kept riding, not breaking or faltering, and moaned when more hot cum sprayed over your insides. Seonghwa’s head fell back as his body arched to the overwhelming sensations taking over. Every part of him became sensitive to the touch, adding and pushing his orgasm to a boiling point. Even as he started coming down, you kept going. It seemed neither of you could stop. Your bodies became too accustomed to the pleasure, and you found yourselves addicted to it.

But all good things must come to an end. After bringing each other to a third and final orgasm on the floor, Seonghwa pulled out and fell onto the carpet beside you. Neither of you spoke for a long while. Every muscle in his body softened into jelly, and he knew he’d be laying there far past his lunch time. Strangely enough, this was his favorite part. The content, euphoric feeling in a post-orgasm glow was better than any wine or drug he could take. It felt better when it happened to be with someone he loved.

“Come home with me,” you said hoarsely under a whisper. Too much talking often aggravates your itchy throat. “Please?”

“Will you be my mate?” he asked, ignoring your plea. 

You didn’t answer right away, which brought on a pang of dread. He thought of what you said, and feared it might’ve been to lure him into sex with you. But then he felt your fingers slide between his as you spoke. 

“Yes.”

The two of you wiped each other’s mouth with your discarded clothes, and shared a soft kiss. He’d found another mate to join his brothers, and he’d never let you go now. 

***

A/N: awww some fluffy stuff after all the sad stuff <3 I really appreciate all the love you guys are giving this fic. It's really great. Like and reblog as always <3

[kiame-sama]

Soulful Jewel- (Yandere!Sesshomaru x Reader) pt 3

Warnings: yandere relationship, yandere temper, yandere behavior, hurt, betrayal, confrontation, rage, aggressive behavior, yandere behavior, blood, fighting, arguing, not proofread (I probably should get a proofreader at some point)

~~~~~~~~

"So, do you have a big animal form, Lady (Y/n)?"

You glanced over at the little girl that sat on the back of Ah-Un as your group of mismatched ends traveled together. Rin had always been good company during your travels and always seemed to know when you got too lost in your mind and needed a way out. Ever since your mutual Lord both claimed and showed his interest and power over you, you had found yourself feeling more attached to the dog demon.

Despite the less than kind way he had approached you about the subject, you felt an inherent need to stay near him. It felt as if you were bound to him in more ways than one even as you traveled with him and his group. From returning you to life after your sacrifice, to teaching you how to be a demon in feudal Japan, Sesshomaru had done more to help you than hurt you overall.

Now you were pulled from your thoughts by the innocent enough inquiry of the little girl you sacrificed your old life for. It was a good question, did you have an animalistic form? She had spoken about Sesshomaru's dog form several times prior and it made you wonder if you would have a similar fox form. There was also a chance that your form could become less human as you aged and the animalistic features would show through your humanoid form then.

"I don't know, Rin. I think it could be possible."

"Well, why don't you try it now? I'm sure if you try, you could-"

It was then Sesshomaru actually spoke up, Rin quickly silencing herself to hear what he had to say.

"It is still too early in her growth as a demon to attempt such a thing. Should she try and actually succeed she will likely become feral with power and instinct. It is not something to attempt lightly and without good reason."

"Oh," Rin started, "okay, M'Lord!"

It was while Rin was turned to look ahead that you caught a scent on the wind that stopped you in your tracks. Something was painfully familiar about this scent and it made a mixture of emotions well up inside of you, bringing with it a rush of energy that seemed to hum within you. memories came unbidden to the front of your mind as they flashed and played in short clips.

Kagome smiling at you by the campfire.

Songo polishing her giant boomerang.

Shippo curled up against Kirara's side.

Miroku cooking up fish.

Inuyasha training fiercely.

Each memory sent emotions flooding your senses, but they were all overshadowed by pain and with that pain came anger. A burning and broiling rage filled you as you remembered all the injustices done against you by the group and that rage poisoned your mind. The faintest of burns came from where you keep your soul made jewel as you felt a change overcome you.

You heard a voice somewhere near you, but that seemed to be so distant from your mind that you couldn't even focus on what it was saying. All you felt was rage and all you could hear was the blood pounding in your ears. Nothing mattered beyond reaching the source of your pain and putting an end to it.

It wasn't long before you were racing through the forest, headed towards those familiar scents with nothing more than rage on your mind. There was little sound that met your ears other than the profound snapping of branches from your vicious flight forward. A clearing was coming closer as you raced forward, but the moment you burst into the opening another creature slid before you.

A white dog-demon with a purple crescent moon in the center of his forehead snarled at you in warning, his fangs bared and head low. Beyond the dog demon's figure stood a surprised group and their simple presence made a furious growl erupt from within. The dog demon looked over at whatever it was you were snarling at and some kind of understanding seemed to dawn upon him as he turned back to you.

"Enough, (y/n), the human woman isn't worth this rage."

"That bitch left me for dead! I have a right to confront her!"

"As your mate I am demanding you stand down. Back off, (y/n)."

"Never."

He actually seemed surprised at your snarled response and refusal to back down, his demonic aura lessening as his form began to shift back. The group behind the two of you actually reacted now to Sesshomaru who still stood with his back turned to them. Inuyasha was first to draw his blade and prepare for a fight with his elder brother.

"Stand down, half-breed. The vixen doesn't need you or your human pet angering her further."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

It was then you cut in, your voice raw and full of pain. Now the group could hear you as well and it was clear the sound of your voice unsettled them.

"It means you killed me! And when you were done you bastards just left me there! You all deserve the same treatment you gave me!"

"Why the hell do you sound like (y/n)? Answer me damn it!"

"Because I am (y/n)!"

It was then a blue flame surrounded you and you easily leaped past Sesshomaru, ready to dig your teeth into Inuyasha. But as you snapped your fangs, another weight pulled you back. Sesshomaru was back in his dog demon form and was preventing you from letting your rage take control. Even as you struggled to free yourself and felt all of your frustrations mounting, you couldn't escape the larger and more experienced dog demon.

Despite how he didn't seem to believe you at first, Inuyasha took a quick sniff and as the scent registered to his brain the blade fell from his hand. His response told the others that your words were true as they all now looked at your angrily struggling form, trying desperately to snap them with your fangs but unable to move beyond the limited range Sesshomaru gave you. Even as you struggled and cried out, you began to exhaust yourself.

"She's a demon..? But how? That doesn't even make any sense, she died-!"

"Inuyasha," Kagome now spoke, her eyes wide with sorrow and disbelief, "her chest. She- she has the full Shikon jewel!"

"Wait, but what about those shards you have? How does she have them?"

"I still have them right here! But how can she have..?"

You continued to struggle against Sesshomaru's hold, finding yourself unable to break away from the demon dog. Eventually your form began to melt back into what it had been prior. Were you had seen paws with the same white-prismatic color fur that your hair now was, they returned to hands. The muzzle you could see clearly in your peripheral sunk back into the form of your regular nose. Even the size that you had gained began to lessen until you were easily pinned by a paw from Sesshomaru's dog form. He too returned to his other form, continuing to keep you down and preventing you from reaching the group you once called your friends.

"Wait," Songo now spoke, her boomerang falling from her hands as she refused to try and fight you, "do you think she did the same as the first priestess who created the Shikon jewel? Could it be possible she created one too the day she died? It could make sense, but it doesn't explain why she is a demon now..."

"It doesn't matter, we can take it now."

Even as your will to fight receded, your rage still burned poisonously as you growled and snarled towards the group. Before they could react, Sesshomaru snapped at them, his tone more irritated and enraged than you had ever heard it before.

"Keep your filth-covered claws off, Inuyasha. She created that jewel with her sacrifice, it is not yours to freely take. I am keeping this vixen from slaughtering those she valued as a human, do not think for a second I will not allow her to act on her justly formed rage should you try to take what is not yours."

Inuyasha almost seemed like he was going to try and argue or fight with Sesshomaru, but a quick glance at you made him pause. He had been the cause of your untimely demise and his need to chase down Naraku was why he hadn't even noticed what happened. When Kagome told him later about the fact that you had been caught in the wind-scar, he truly felt he was to blame for your death.

Inuyasha had killed you. The others had left your body behind. Kagome had decided to leave you where your body lay in order to help the others. They had abandoned you and you were rightfully furious with them.

"Try to calm yourself, my mate. These humans and the half-breed are not worth being so upset over."

"They killed me and left me behind. I have the right to be as upset as I want to be!"

Kagome- upon hearing your words- burst into tears and hid her face, shame weighing upon her heavily. The others struggled to look at you, even as you fought against Sesshomaru's hold and continued to rant angrily at them. They all were to blame and everyone knew it.

A quiet part of you recognized that leaving you behind was the best move, as Sesshomaru was the only one you knew of who could reunite a departed soul and their body. That quiet piece also understood that you had entered the wind-scar voluntarily in order to save Rin from the same fate. Despite how that logic existed in your mind, you knew you still had a right to be angry.

Still, it was obvious Sesshomaru was not going to allow you to kill the ones that killed you. That fact alone cooled your boiling rage to a simmer and as you stopped fighting, his hold on you lessened. Eventually he was the one helping you up to your feet, keeping himself between you and the group you once called friend.

Your hand rest where your jewel sat, feeling it thrum in response to your light touch against the smooth surface. Even though your rage had calmed, you still held the burning hate inside of you. Perhaps it had been that hate and resentment paired with the roaming Kitsune soul that turned you to the demon you were now.

"If I ever see any of you again, I will not hesitate. Sesshomaru won't always be there to hold me back from my vengeance, so sleep with one eye open."