#and yes he has goat pupils

[coolzvillesuckz]

really glad to see we’re all obsessing over the snow creepers

[tsukii0002]

My demons' periods cycles. By Mc

Note: these are purely my headcanons at the moment, they are based on animal ethology and behaviours that I think would suit each character depending on their personality and Lore. I would love to read your headcanon in case you have them.

Warning: Long text. Possible grammatical errors. It's written as if Mc was writing for themself.

Hey, it me Mc, the best human. Here is a compilation of the behaviours of my demons during their periods, cycles, for practical day to day use. It wasn't easy but I sat them down and got to talk to them, with a little effort I now know what they need. So now I am ready to assist them during these complicated times and be prepared in case I find a dead goat on the porch as a tribute.

Lucifer, Mammon & Levi || Satan, Asmo, & Beel || Belphie, Barbatos & Diavolo || Simeon & Raphael

Satan

Light damages his eyes, and during his period he does not sleep at all.

During his cycle, the plaques that extend from his tail to his entire body become more pronounced and acquire a bioluminescent coating. As do its horns. Beware, they prick.

Some parts of his body grow feathers (I think this is a "side" effect of his birth). He aggressively plucks them out, help him not to hurt himself.

His teeth grow continuously, he has to be sanding them (biting things or his own tail). Other than that he doesn't groom much.

Satan doesn't have a fixed place to spend his heat, and although he likes to "nest" he doesn't know how to do it well, which frustrates him a lot. Help him, you already have experience (I think that's why he has chosen my room as his favourite place)

Depending on the weather he may make something more like a nest or a burrow.

Satan is terribly territorial, even with his siblings. He has had a run in with Cerberus from time to time. Please don't let that happen, the house won't hold.

Satan does not have a pre-heat period as such, but you can tell it is coming because he becomes more taciturn and solitary.

Raw meat is his main food, which is what he goes out to hunt very often because he needs a lot of it, but make sure he doesn't eat more than his capacity or it will make him sick. One way to do this is to feed him yourself (I think he thinks you have hunted for him if you do this).

Satan is the only one who haunts other demons and even souls of the condemned.

It is the only one that has fought other demons. Any living thing within 100 metres of him is encroaching on his territory, which is a problem because he moves so much for hunt.

Satan becomes non-verbal. But he does not use noises to communicate, only physical contact.

Growls and roars are reserved for threats and warnings (in other words, to communicate with everyone but you).

He likes physical contact, but is afraid to get close in case he hurts you (his tags and tail), you won't deny him comfort so be careful and that's it.

Satan produces pheromones, but does not usually mark.

His way of courting is to offer you resources, especially prey (he wants to prove he can feed you), it's not the first time he's brought you a live demon. Once he brought you a Little D, the poor thing kept shaking.

Satan's senses are heightened to the extreme. Many stimuli upset him and he has fits of rage. talk to him, so that he focuses his attention on your voice, that will calm him down. Lucifer's voice calms him down a lot too (but it's a secret)

All these changes (hormonal, behavioural…) are not good for his anger, the poor thing gets very angry without knowing why.

Satan's temperature is a reflection of his activity, when he is on the move it increases and when he stops it decreases.

During periods of low activity he curls up next to you, holding your hand (for fear of hurting you) with his pupils fully dilated, don't be fooled, he is fully alert and ready to attack.

Satan purrs? YES! It's the purr that most resembles a cat (that will make him happy, but don't tell him, the avatar of wrath has his pride).

Mc: *in their bedroom helping Satan* Here is ok?

Satan: *looking at them and nodding*

Mc: Making a nest is complicated… are you sure this is okay?

Satan: *standing next to them and rubbing his cheek with their cheek *

Mc: *smiling* Okay, let's go to the next part.

Satan: *grunting at a demon that's approached the house*

Mc: Satan!!! Satan stop!!!

Demon: *paralyzed with fear*

Mc: *hugging* Satan now, let him go, he's going, he's goi- agh!

Satan: !!!

Mc: *cut themself with his tail* It's okay, it's nothing.

Satan: *guilty look*

Mc: *taking him by the hand* Don't worry, this heals fast.

Satan: *nodding still guilty, squeezing their hand*

Demon: …. I thought I was dying!!!!

Satan: *purring as he presses his chin on Mc*

Mc: *talking to him to calm him down* And remember you don't have to go out every day, there's plenty of food here….

Satan: *purring more loudly*

Mc: But if you see my great uncle's soul, the one from the village, it's all yours.

Satan: *nodding with a smile*

Mc: *laughing* How trustworthy, you're awesome Satan.

Asmo

Although he spends most of his time awake, he needs to sleep.

He can be just as active during the day as he is at night (like arachnids).

For him to sleep, you have to be right next to him or he won't sleep.

Asmo needs to nest completely under cover, underground, but prefers the safety of his home to going outside. So he improvises a burrow in his room.

During his period the scales of his exoskeleton become shiny and velvety coated, as do his wings and horns.

Them take on a more striking fuchsia colour than usual. It will be one of the few times you will be able to see Asmo's tail with its sting.

He preens himself a lot, moistening its wings, polishing its scales... At first he is a little reluctant to be helped, but later he will be constantly asking for your help.

More than territorial, Asmo is possessive. He doesn't want you to leave his side, sometimes with his siblings too. If he smells a scent of someone else in his tribe, good luck to that individual.

Asmo doesn't have pre-heat, you'll just wake up one day with all your clothes gone and you'll know it's started.

Asmo's diet during its cycle is varied, although its consumption increases, ranging from fresh meat, fluids of all kinds, to poisonous substances such as flowers, mushrooms or other live animals. Be sure to allow some time to pass before he kisses or bites you.

If you get him a rare poisonous plant, he will be happy and content.

He can talk normally, but he will also make clicking sounds to indicate his mood.

Lots of pheromones, Asmo produces lots and lots of pheromones during his period, pheromones that he will use to mark his territory. Often his siblings can't be near him. You don't have that problem

Asmo is very needy to contact, hug him, give him kisses, caress his wings, his hair. He will be happy to let you.

And he will return the gesture, he will bite you too (always have your first aid kit handy). He will always try to be on top of you or for you to be on top of him.

Asmo's courtship consists of exsivating while performing a dance (like scorpions), this dance is complex and elaborate, and during it he releases a large amount of pheromones.

He gets very confused when you don't react to it, Asmo I'm sorry but I can't smell your pheromones, sometimes he even gets sad.

His senses are very developed, especially his sense of smell, which is more developed than any of his siblings. Make sure the flowers in his room are enchanted so that they don't emit odour and with perfumes and other fragranced products the same or he can get hurt.

Asmo's temperature will generally drop, but he will go through periods of very high fever (due to his sin) which will leave him tired.

During fever peaks he will become very active, and will devote most of his time to courting. To balance this out you will have to COURT him yourself, you'd better improve that dance.

Because of his temperature, he will spend most of his time hiding in the burrow, demanding your cuddles.

He purrs? , yes, in an adorable and soft way. It is easy to make him purr, with a simple praise.

Asmo: Kiss? *with Mc sitting on his lap*

Mc: Not yet Asmo.

Asmo: *with teary eyes* Don't you love me anymore?

Mc: *sighing* Asmo, my life, my heart, you just ate three nightshade roots.

Asmo: *almost crying* And?

Mc: I love you very much but I also want to live.

Asmo: My nose itches.

Mc: Wait a bit longer, I'm finishing enchanting the flowers.

Asmo: *sad * It would be less trouble to remove them…

Mc: But you like them, don't you?

Asmo: Mc..

Mc: *hugging him* I'm here to help you and to make you comfortable, if you like the flowers, the flowers stay.

Asmo: Love you so much!

Asmo: *dancing with a very high fever*

Mc: Asmo, you are so beautiful… you can rest now.

Asmo: *staring at them non-stop*

Mc: *blushing while standing up * You leave me no choice *starts dancing and grabs Asmo by the waist*

Asmo: ?! Are you courting me?! * excited*

Mc: *Grabbing him in their arms to take him to rest* Yup, it worked?.

Asmo: I'm all yours, Mc, from the beginning…

Beel

Light is not a problem for him, although he prefers darkness.

During his period, the exoskeleton hardens and plates of it appear all over his body, and his horns become iridescent.

In addition, its wings become ribbed in a pattern, which at first glance is very beautiful. The more complex the pattern, the more attractive it is. You always see his wings as beautiful, but you agree with him, Beel deserves it.

He does a lot of grooming, which is lovely to see, because Beel is a bit clumsy and needs constant help, he has been injured a few times and you don't want that to happen again.

There are some flies and other insects that lay their nests underground. In Beel's case he has a small gallery dug in the garden, which he uses for storage too.

Beel at the beginning of the cycle may be in the house, but as he progresses he will be in his gallery.

More than territorial, he becomes protective of you and his siblings (he once kidnapped Luke), so when he is in his gallery he feels bad, because his desire to protect them is crushed by his need to be hidden.

Beel has a very marked pre-heat, in which he accumulates large quantities of food in his small cave and his appetite doubles. All the inhabitants of the house join in at this time to cook.

In contrast, during his period of heat his activity is reduced and his appetite decreases, this does not mean that he does not eat, he eats more often but in much smaller quantities and from storage (food that does not spoil).

He will insist on feeding you constantly, prepare indigestion medicine, you will need it.

Beel becomes totally non-verbal, be prepared to become an interpreter, he communicates with grunts, clicks and buzzes his wings.

Lots of buzzing, it's not the first time you've been hit by his wings, with the different buzzes he makes all sorts of claims and they have a high communicative range, you'll just need some time to figure it out.

His pheromones are strong, and he will mark, although he does it unconsciously.

As I said, he likes to have his family around him, but when he can't, anxiety takes over, vibration and physical contact calms him down. The easiest thing to do is to lay him on your chest and talk to him while stroking his hair or wings.

Beel's courtship is complex, first he feels the need to prove he can be a good provider, so he will constantly enlarge and improve his gallery.

And then there is the display of his wings, patterning and rhythmic, synchronised movements and buzzes to impress you.

He sleeps more than usual, will want you to sleep in his arms, and usually does so perched on one of his walls, hopefully you won't develop vertigo….

His senses are not as sharp as those of his siblings, but he becomes much more agile and has much better reflexes.

Beel's temperature increases, due to the continuous movement of his wings (insects produce a lot of heat when flying), but when he is at rest he tends to cool down.

Beel's purr is a mixture of a buzz and a vibration, he will purr when he is calm and content.

Beel was a little worried about how you might react because many humans detest insects. Be sure to praise his wings and other attributes, because this demon is adorable.

Mc: So this is your lair?

Beel: Yes… I decided to keep it from period to period to not destroy the garden…

Mc: I think it's very practical!!! It must be very cool in summer.

Beel: Do you really think so?

Mc: Yes, and cosy too, you're an artist Beel.

Beel: *smiling as he blushes*

Beel: *grunts*

Mc: Beel I can't take anymore…

Beel: *holding out a piece of fruit to them* *buzz*

Mc: Really Beel, I'm going to explode…

Beel: !! *hugging them*

Mc: It's a figure of speech… but can you eat my share… please.

Mc: *sleeping hugging Beel in one of the corners of his gallery*

Beel: *caressing them with his cheek*

Mc: It's all right Beel?

Beel: *crackling with worry*

Mc: Don't worry... Lucifer is with them… and the others will take care of Lucifer for you.

Beel: …*cradling them adoringly*

Mc: And I'll take care of you, so rest…

.

.

.

If you have made it this far thanks you 🩷

[captn-duck-gremlin]

Like it all started when you and some friends decided to do some urban exploration, visiting a broken abandoned military base. Now while there your friends are of course being dumb, touching things with bare hands, no face coverings to protect them from whatever harmful things could be in the air, respect for the possible dead is on floor level with them. You on the other hand, you got gloves, a face mask just in case, you're apologizing to anything you bump into. You did the research, this place went down from an unexpected attack, so there might be a corpse around somewhere (or lingering spirit). You give a short prayer to anything that looks like a corpse, regardless if you follow in those beliefs or now; you just want to be respectful to the dead. And yes, this place is haunted. Obviously. Now the important part, at one point or another 4 damned souls have clung to you. You dont notice at first, you barely feel that buzz that you're being watched. But the first unnatural thing to happen to you starts in a dream, a weirdly detailed dream. You're a housewife in the 50s. Cute summer dress, lovely home, nice street. But it feels too real, the patterns on the walls stay perfect no matter how long you stare at them, you can read lines from books you've never seen before, you look at your hands and they don't look distorted like they usually are in dreams. Then a man walks through your front door like he owns the place, you don't recognise him. At all. Yet he speaks to you in such a nice rough voice from his cigars, calling you such sweet things. Treating you like his wife. Then after what felt like hours from playing housewife you wake up, confused to hell and back. You brush it off until the next night, where you're sucked into another oddly very detailed dream, but its so different. From housewife in the 50s to maiden in the ye old times. The man is different, instead of tough, friendly bearded husband, you now have dark knight with skull markings. Helmet stays on at all times, but despite the rough and scary armour and vibe, he treats you like you're the finest silk, the sweetest flower, like you'll shatter if he so much as looks at you wrong. And after living through that you wake up once again incredibly confused. Is this what the backrooms feel like? You don't know, you don't want to know. Night rolls around once more which you dread and sure enough another weird dream with a new life. Now, at a farmland on the outskirts of an old styled town, you got chickens, goats, two cows, some ducks and a bulky husband with a silly mohawk. You don't know what year it is, what century you're at, at this point you're just rolling with it. Husband got a nice accent, Scottish you might think it is. He's absolutely spoiling you, treating you like a princess for no reason. Not like you're complaining. After that dream, you wake up contemplating that you might be losing your mind. But no, you're just being haunted by demons who like spending time with you through your dreams. Moving on. 4th weird dream, this feels further up into recent years, maybe 2000s. Cute husband, looks like a sweetheart, is a sweetheart. His skin is darker from the other ones, but not like you could tell with Sir Skull and Bones. He has a smooth voice, could probably sweet talk a bear. Time with him was almost too sweet. You swore his pupils nearly went heart shaped when he looks at you. And like the rest of them, you wake up confused. And thats just how your nights go, things in the day go.. strangely.

Oh and quick reminder, don't run from them.

[crazylittlejester]

Time for some happy/fluffy headcannons since I can :3

Sky sees all the Zeldas as his daughters since he and Sun created the royal lineage. No matter how distant, they are his and Sun's children no matter what. (Some of the Zeldas who didn't have good relationships with their dads *cough* Flora *cough* nearly sob in joy because of this). Also, the Zeldas get their prophetic dreams from him too.

Legend's nose does that cute twitching that rabbits do. It makes him so flustered whenever anybody points it out.

Four, if he were to ever met any of the Gerudo, would be highly respected by them despite his height. He is short, yes, but he is very strong, intelligent and can make his own weapons. He'd probably have to fight off suitors if he ever went to Wild's Gerudo Town, tbh.

Everybody from Ordon is blessed by Ordona, and they have square pupils like goats do because of this. Despite being Hylian, and not being born in Ordon like the others, Twilight was also blessed and later in life developed these same pupils. He loves them despite how creepy everybody else thinks they are.

Time actually gained a little weight after marrying Malon because he felt safe enough to do so. He always made himself stay at top shape in case he had to go on another quest, so when he didn't immediately get thrown into one he got a little meat on his bones. He didnt look like a skeleton anymore. Malon was happy he did, since he was always thin even as a child.

Warriors knits and sews and Proxy has a small hat he made with an itty-bitty pompom on top.

Wind is scared of lighting storms due to a bad sailing trip after his adventure, and Sky tries to comfort him despite also being terrified of lighting himself.

Wild's mother was a piece of Farore's spirit traveling Hyrule as a mortal, and fell deeply in love with his father. Both Wild and his sister are considered forest spirits, and his sister actually became a korok after her mortal body died. The first korok he ever finds is his sister :)

Hyrule really likes the non hostile Zora whenever they visit them, and he learned how to swim from them.

None of the Links can hold their alcohol. One drink and they are all tipsy beyond belief. Except Wind, he can take two drinks before he also is drunk off his rocker.

YAY FLUFFY HEADCANONS (god knows i need more of these after the obnoxiously sad headcanons i have)

- This is so cute actually, I can totally see Sky and Flora becoming close

- Legend 100% does that, I also headcanon he hops when he gets really excited

- OKAY THE ORDONA GOAT EYE THING IS ACTUALLY SO COOL??? THATS AN EPIC HEADCANON

- My favorite thing ever in fiction is when characters start to look physically happy and healthy as they recover from trauma, and I write a lot of this happening to Wars (because I gave him horrible food anxiety and write about how he’s been able to work over that and become a lot healthier and happier) and I can see this happening to Time too

- WARRIORS KNITS IS REAL. REAL AND TRUE. YOURE RIGHT AND YOU SHOULD SAY SO!! I can see him making sweaters for everyone

- Wind and Sky and Legend all being unnerved by storms 🤝

- I think it’d be hilarious if they couldn’t hold their alcohol and Wind could out drink them, but whenever I write these guys I always give them at least a couple instances where Twi gets a good few beers and Wars gets his wine. I don’t think Time would drink, not because he wants to be the responsible adult, but because he just doesn’t drink

[cowboyemeritus]

Il Suo Campione (Copia/Reader)

Chapter Three

Series Masterlist

Summary: Copia has a meeting with his father while you try your best not to think about him.

Content Warning: implied gang violence, mild sexism (nihil is a gross old man)

Read on AO3

Notes: we’re keeping on with this series! i hope this chapter isn’t too dull; i don’t want to have smut in every installment and needed to establish a few Plot Things, if that makes sense. i didn’t actually have the plot fully planned out when I decided to make this a series, so that will likely bite me in the ass in the future. cooking up some spicy stuff for you all in the next few chapters though. stay tuned ;)

lmk what y'all think about the new header! graphic design is not my passion, so i'm worried it sucks lol.

feedback is always welcome! enjoy, friends!

Copia tugs at the collar of his shirt. It does nothing to relieve the choking feeling that’s been plaguing him all morning. The walk from the car is short, but sweat prickles across his back and under his arms as he climbs the front stairs. He takes a second to compose himself, one final moment of peace before the onslaught to come, staring at the obnoxious goat head knocker. Its square pupils bore into his soul, mocking him. Copia scoffs at the brass monstrosity, finally reaching for the ring between its teeth. It’s almost in his grasp when the door opens, startling him.

“Were you going to stand out here all day?” Psaltarian asks, a look of exasperation already plastered across his aged face. Copia swallows, shoving his hands in his coat pockets.

“I was not,” he quips. A beat passes. “Didn’t realize the old guy promoted you to doorman.” Psaltarian rolls his eyes, beckoning Copia to come inside with a wave of his arm. The foyer, as always, smells vaguely of cigar smoke, though today there’s a hint of chemical cleaner as well. The Persian rug at the center of the room catches his eye; it’s clearly new, the colors too rich and bright for this dismal place. On the opposite wall, a framed photo of Copia and his brothers as children hangs askew, the glass cracked. Glancing upwards, he finally notices the man sitting in a chair at the top of the stairs, a large gun laid across his lap. His finger rests on the trigger.

“Shit,” Copia mutters, shrugging off his coat and hanging it on a stand near the door. “What-“ Psaltarian is already halfway down the hall, and Copia has to power-walk to catch up to him. “What happened?”

“An uninvited guest dropped by last night,” he says. “That’s all.”

Copia nods, wringing his hands. He’ll be in a bad mood. As the two pass by the basement door, he can’t help but pick up on the screaming emanating from the dark, musty labyrinth beneath the house. Whoever is down there… He chooses not to dwell on it any further. They’ll get what they deserve.

His father’s office is at the very end of the long, narrow hall. It’s not wide enough for him and Psaltarian to walk side-by-side, so he follows the old bookkeeper quietly. This part of the house has always reminded Copia of a livestock chute, pushing him through to the slaughterhouse at its terminus. Portraits of long-dead Emeritus patriarchs hang on the walls, their attire becoming progressively more antiquated the further he travels. He has never been able to shake the feeling that their eyes follow him, silently passing their judgement. Approaching the door, Copia recalls his words to you the night previous, the false assurance that his father would be pleased by your performance. He realizes now that he said it more to make himself feel better than to praise you.

When they arrive at the door to the office, Psaltarian steps to the side, looking at Copia expectantly. It’s awkward as he squeezes by the older man, turning his body so as to not brush against him. Fighting back a groan, he gingerly raps on the door.

“Yes?” Even through the thick wood, the frustration in Nihil’s voice is evident. Hesitantly, Copia opens the door enough to stick his head in. He finds his father sitting at his antique mahogany desk, hands clasped in front of him and looking at his youngest son disapprovingly.

“Hey, dad.” Copia smiles nervously as he steps into the room. “You’re looking well today.” The old man, unimpressed, scowls.

“Sit down. You are late.” Glancing at the clock on the wall — one of those stupid ones that spins and plays a song every hour — he sees it’s only two minutes past the designated meeting time. Knowing better than to say anything, Copia takes a seat in the rickety wooden chair across from the desk.

“So, eh… What’s up?” Nihil sneers, slamming his hands down on the desktop. Copia jumps a little.

“What is ‘up’ is that you refuse get your head out of your ass and participate in this business. Instead, you go galavanting around like you’re some sort of showman, putting on these silly cat-fights.” Copia is thankful his father is nearly blind, eyes so clouded with cataracts they look ghostly. He’s sure the indignant expression on his face would earn him an additional tongue-lashing.

“I am participating,” he objects, crossing his arms. “People pay good money to watch these fights, and we get a sizable cut of what the bookies make. Our dealers get good business, too; just ask Primo or Secondo.” Despite having intimate knowledge of the Family’s ledgers, Psaltarian, it seems, has been doing him no favors.

“Who wants to watch a bunch of girls fight anyway?” Nihil questions. “They can’t hurt each other like men can.” Copia rolls his eyes. If the geezer could see you fight, he’d know that’s horrifyingly false. “Now, Terzo? He’s got the right idea. He knows what kind of work women are suited for.” Copia cringes, knowing his brother would probably kill the old man for saying that. “You would make some real money if they wore bikinis.”

“Ahi, dad! We are not in the Dark Ages anymore.” Nihil scoffs.

“Don’t try and change the subject. There are serious matters at hand.” His father sighs, worry finally showing on his wrinkled face. “The other Families, they are growing bold.”

“I noticed the remodeling,” Copia says. “Who was it? The Sicilians? The Russians?” Nihil waves him off.

“That is not important right now. The point, son,” something about that word makes his stomach churn, “is that I will not be here forever. When the time comes, I need the assurance that you and your brothers can protect what this family has worked so hard for. As it stands, I am not convinced you have what it takes, not until you start taking this seriously.” Copia is used to this treatment, but the words sting nonetheless. “Would you stop that?” For a moment, he’s confused, but then realizes he’s been bouncing his leg, causing the chair to squeak rhythmically. Copia sighs, stilling himself.

“Look, you may not think so, but I am serious about this. If we want to be able to hold our own against the other Families, we need to diversify.” Nihil still looks skeptical. “These events are only getting more popular, and more lucrative. With the right resources, we can expand the operation; more fights, more often, better venues, more money in our pocket. Believe me, this is worth investing in.” Nihil stokes his chin for a moment, glancing out the window contemplatively. He sighs, shoulders dropping.

“Convince your brothers that is the case, and maybe you will convince me. Maybe. This is a business, Copia, not the circus.”

It’s not a no.

“Alright, fine.” Copia rises from his chair. “I’ll do that.” Nihil rolls his eyes.

“Ragazzo testardo,” he mutters. “Proprio come tua madre.” Copia pretends not to hear him, making his way back to the door.

“Lovely to see you, dad,” he says, ready to get the fuck out of there. “Take care of yourself, yeah?” Nihil grunts.

“Yeah, yeah. You as well. And, son?” Copia looks back at his father, his hand on the doorknob. He raises an eyebrow. “Don’t think I do not know about that pet of yours — the girl. If you disappoint me, I will see to it that she finds better management.”

Copia’s mood instantly turns.

You wake up late. Copia is already gone, presumably at his meeting. On the coffee table is small plate bearing a blueberry muffin and more ibuprofen. Next to it is a stack of bills, the fifteen hundred dollars you won last night, and a handwritten note. In elegant script, it reads:

Dolcezza,

There’s coffee in the kitchen. Swiss is here and can take you home. You will find the full amount of your earnings here, plus a small bonus from me. Think of it as an expression of gratitude for all that you do.

Excellent work as always, mia tigressa. I will be in touch soon.

XO, C

P.S. Make sure you get some rest!

Fuck that.

After dry-swallowing the pills and absolutely devouring the muffin, you go to the kitchen. Swiss (you don’t know his real name) is sitting at the counter, a newspaper laid out in front of him. He perks up when you enter the room, flashing you a pleasant smile. He’s grown a mustache since the last time you saw him.

“Morning, champ.” You nod at him, awkwardly shuffling over to the cabinet where Copia stores his coffee cups. “Heard you kicked some serious ass last night.”

“I guess so,” you say, pulling out a mug decorated with a map of Florence.

“Bet that nose hurts like hell, though. Believe me, I’ve been there.”

“I’m used to it.” Please stop talking to me. You don’t dislike Swiss; you feel the same level of indifference toward him that you do with most people. He’s a decent guy considering his line of work, there’s just something about him being here, knowing you had a “sleepover” with his employer that’s just… ew. Thankfully, he seems to get the memo, returning to his reading as you sip your coffee in painful silence.

Once the caffeine hits, you’re ready to engage with him for real. “Can you take me to the gym, please,” you ask, placing your mug in the sink. Swiss grimaces, the skin around his dark eyes crinkling. He shakes his head.

“Sorry, but no can do. Boss wants me to take you home. Says you need to rest.”

That fucker.

You feel your temper flare, but quickly work to suppress it. Swiss is just doing his job, and you imagine Copia would be pretty displeased if you had it out with one of his guys. Taking a deep breath through your nose, you nod, muttering out a quiet “Okay.”

“Alrighty, then.” You don’t think you’ve ever seen him in a bad mood. “If you're ready, let’s get going.” Swiss grabs a pair of keys from a wooden bowl on the counter and heads for the garage. Following him, you're able to catch the headline running across the top of the newspaper.

DRIVE-BY AT THE WHISKEY LEAVES TWO DEAD.

As soon as Swiss leaves, you walk to the gym. You get a few weird looks on the street and end up having to pull down the hood of your sweatshirt to hide your busted-up face, but otherwise, the journey is pleasant. The guys at the gym don’t ask questions, and have learned — some the hard way — to leave you be. Without distractions, it’s easy for you to get into a groove, and you soon find your mind wandering as you go to town on the bag.

Stupid Copia. Stupid Copia and his stupid fucking face. Stupid Copia and-

“Where would I be without you, il mia campionessa?”

Your knuckles are bleeding again.

A handful of hours later, you’re rounding the corner of your apartment building. You took the long way home to, in your mind, spite Copia. Trying to imagine him in place of the punching bag had been unsuccessful, your fist stopping itself a fraction of an inch away. This is as good a substitute as you’ll get, even if he has no idea you’re doing it.

There’s a swarm of pigeons waiting outside the front door. They flock to you as you approach, cooing and fluttering their wings in a frenzy. Your landlord has tried everything to get rid of them, from hanging strings of old CDs to putting up those fake dummy owls. You’re sure you’ll get another notice warning the residents of the building that “anyone caught feeding them will be receive punitive action.” So far, he has yet to suspect you of anything.

“No, no food today.” Wading through the dense sea of birds is a challenge, and you nearly lose your balance trying to avoid stepping on one. Eventually, though, you make it up the stairs to the door, unlock it, and step in, shooing away a particularly bold pigeon that tries to follow you inside. The elevator is always broken, so you take the stairs. They creak with every step. You have a few hours until you need to be at work. A nap, and then maybe a shower seems in order. Anything to distract yourself from the thought of stupid, stupid Copia.

You’re so busy trying to not think about him that when you insert the key into your apartment door, it takes you a second to realize it’s already unlocked.

[heartsmewbyul]

/ Fem Floyd , HCs , [Kind of a sketch]

She's soooo silly! >.<

!! [Please avoid liking without reblogging.]

Have some HCs about Floyd's appearance and clothing style. In my heart, she's a fashionista. <3

++ A close-up, a colorless version and some ramblings under the cut. 👇👇

Close-up:

Colorless version:

Now, rambling time:

I have adopted the HC that Floyd & Jade are black with vitiligo from @/artjinkies on Twitter.

Plus, this isn't a genderbend. It's a transfem HC. To me, the Tweels are genderfluid, and go by any pronouns. (I will use He/She for Floyd here.)

Both of the twins have hair on their face and on the rest of their body, but while Jade shaves her face (not any other body part), Floyd doesn't tend to shave all of her face, leaving the small stubble (named goat patch) presented above.

I believe that Floyd would rock a mullet that has a sidecut on both sides, with some shaggy haircut vibes, to give it volume. It's very unruly and wavy, which suits her carefree personality. + The black strand on her right side is natural (much like her canon appearance), but the other black parts on the rest of her hair are dyed. He retouches it every one and a half week (with Jade's help).

I also gave her some fin-like ears, much like his merform, because I like the idea that the transformation potion can't conceal all of his original characteristics. He also has some teal markings on her ears, going to her face.

Going to her eyes- I made one straight up black, while the other is a gold yellow and has a blue ring around her pupil. The sclera of the latter eye is a dull yellow.

He has piercings! I couldn't show them all, and I won't describe all of them either, but trust me, he has a lot. Just not as much as Jade, because she's the piercing girlie.

Her tongue is split in two, for the same reason she still has a fin-like ear. Also, she wears braces, lol.

Floyd has scars from fights under the sea, cuts on fingers from cooking, and from his manic episodes that come from her BPD. Though, the episodes are much better now that he's on medication.

For her style: I think she would take inspiration from Emo Scene, Weird Girl core & Casual YK2 Gothic Punk. (Yes, I know it's a very impactful mix, but it works, trust me.)

Okay, I think that's all of my HCs for now! Thank you if you read it this far. ^^

[calico-heart]

17. Sally

"Come now, I'lyrha, you cannot mean to tell me that in addition to dogs, sirens, ghosts, ghouls, voidsent, bananas, and witches," here X'rhun pinched the bridge of his nose, "you maintain a crippling fear of goats?"

Arms crossed, she leaned stubbornly against the stone wall behind her and pouted with pinned ears. "You would too if ye'd ever seen deir eyes twist sideways." She twirled a finger. "It's not natural."

"Is that the sum of it? You surely realize that your eyes do the very same?" He replied flatly, tail twitching. "Only as your pupils are vertically aligned, 'tis not so obvious when it happens."

"No." She spat. "One, tat ain't remotely te same. And two - tat's not te sumofit, ye gobshite. They's also voidsent in disguise, more often 'en not. An' I've seen 'em eat rats, so all 'at talk about 'em bein' 'armless plant-munchers is bollox. Ye can't trust a feckin' goat. I'm not goin'."

He grimaced. "You needn't trust the goats, I'lyrha. You need only sally forth with the fine shepherd boy here who, I must point out, has not yet been possessed, maimed, or otherwise inconvenienced by his livestock."

"No."

Scowl deepening, X'rhun huffed, "When you took the Red—"

"Ye said notin' about dealin' wit' devils an' curses at the time, an' I'm inclined t'consider that a deliberate an' malicious omittance on yer part, given' how fuckin' often we seem t'be required te assist folk in matters o' te dark arts."

"Rhalgr's red fist, I'lyrha, but you make me feel twice my age." He groaned, bracing his forehead with a splayed palm. "They are only goats."

"You escort 'im, then, an' let me do the sneakin' an' ambushin' bit." She snapped.

"Truly? You'd prefer certain confrontation with eight armed men over a casual stroll with a few heretofore utterly harmless ungulates?"

"Heretofore." She emphasized, nodding. "'Least wit the bandits ye know what te expect. Goats 'ave all manner o' trickery up teir sleeves. Ye don't find it even a little suspicious these mountain folk want te heckle a flock 'o poor farmers all outta te blue like this?"

"I can think of several compelling reasons it might be so, none of which have anything to do with voidsent. Believing it to be the work of devils disguised as goats requires such rampant speculation and, dare I say, paranoia, as to be beyond consideration."

"An' ye don't think the goats are countin' on that?"

"No. I do not." X'rhun blinked. Stared at her, hard.

She stared back, fur fluffing.

Realizing this was not an argument to be won, X'rhun heaved a sigh. "Very well, I'lyrha. We'll trade roles. And perhaps seeing which one of us ends up with more bruises to show for it at the end of this endeavor will apprise you the foolishness of your stubborn superstition, as my reason alone clearly cannot."

"Yeah." She scoffed, giving the billy watching them from the nearby hill a scathing glare. "We'll certainly see, Red Britches."

(FFxivWrite 2024 - Prompt 17)

[w1f1n1ghtm4r3]

ippiki au: minor characters edition

first things first: here look at everyone. dont mind the inconsistency of style, i took a 4 month break in the middle of these okay

and now! lore and stuff will be under the cut to not clog up everything

ill include everyones images a second time before their specific lore just to help keep track of things i hope you dont mind that. also implied vbs event spoilers (specifically for light up the fire) when you get to radder, if thats a concern at all

mizuki- deer. a runaway from an arena with lower security, met ena early into their escaped days and theyve stuck together since. their antler broke while in the arena, and they havent shed yet to grow back evenly. whether the white spots are because of their deer species or the fact that theyre still a teenager or just because of weird hybrid things is up to viewer interpretation (aka i never really settled on a specific type of deer for them). unfortunately the antlers make them pretty visibly trans and they dont really like having them, but at least most other hybrids dont seem to care too much.

ena- mountain lion. grew up in the same lab as akito, and to neither of their knowledge, they are actually related (ena was still somewhat of an older sister figure to him, along with some of the others from his group. they havent seen each other in a few years since ena got taken to an arena. to each other they might as well be dead). not the biggest fan of their current situation, but shes trying to make the best of it.

they live together currently in the undercity, living somewhat steadily off of odd jobs. its not the greatest life, and maybe one day theyd like to leave, but for two teenage girls, its the best theyre managing for now, and it certainly could be a lot worse. they both couldve never escaped their arenas and died there.

haruka- domestic shorthair cat (but often mistaken for being a russian blue... shes just a regular gray cat with blue eyes). an ex-feral (captured as a child) turned show pet with a reputation for her cool charm. while shes taken to this life with relative ease, she misses her home from far outside the city and her childhood best friend who got captured at the same time and separated from her (she cant help but fear that an is probably dead, sent to an arena for her rowdier personality. shed like to hope otherwise, but the odds are against her)... also yes, her outfit mainly looking like her asrun outfit is intentional.

minori- goat. i forgot her sideways pupils here but she has those, just like kohane and luka. a childhood friend of kohanes, raised in the same lab, but was bought as a show pet instead. no one really knows why, besides her enthusiastic personality having its strengths in the idol-like niche of show pets. admires haruka from a distance, but theyve never had a chance to properly meet. maybe one day...

nene- longhaired fold cat x canary. part of a private project attempting to create non mammalian hybrids by balancing them out with known stable hybrids, and shes one of the first semi successful ones. she might have survived to a reasonable age so far, but not without complications. shes prone to occasionally unstable health and has some speech issues, mostly caused by the bird parts of her not mixing well with everything else. the feathers are cute, but at what cost? although being kept in a very restrictive environment isnt doing her any favors either...

technically shes not even a main part of the au! shes got her own side storyline with wxs lol

kotaro- racoon. literally just some guy. from the same town as haruan, but hes just been there the whole time. probably the only character here who hasnt experienced the horrors to some extent. not actually relevant to the au besides like oh he exists he might briefly show up, but i wanted to draw him because i had design ideas

souma- domestic dog, some kind of mutt. suffered a combination of severe injuries throughout his time in an arena and during their escape, leaving him with a nasty mess of scars across his body as well as a mostly paralyzed arm and a noticeable limp. hes trying to stay positive despite that, after all theyre free! but its tough sometimes, he cant help but feel bad that hes slowing down their pace in traveling.

arata- caracal. from the same arena as souma, but escaped much more unscathed, his past injuries are nowhere near as severe. heard stories about the outside world somewhere and is now determined to find somewhere worth living out in the wasteland with souma. hes not exactly friendly to people they cross paths with, but its mostly out of caution to protect both of them.

fun fact i had to redesign soumarata partially because i just wasnt satisfied with their designs (i had made some very early on into the au) and partially because me and my friends realized souma is the taller one (hes like. slightly taller than touya? while arata is only taller than akito) and i had it the other way around before.

nagi- maned wolf. a popular face around town, and one of their most successful participants in various resource gathering missions (it isnt uncommon for hybrid towns to have members who will steal things for their towns from supply trains that go out to human towns in the wasteland and nagi was often a fan of going on those). she liked to get out and explore the wasteland! sometimes shed let an (and less often, haruka as well) tag along with her so they could see more of the world while still supervised, but that led to her own downfall. a mission went wrong, the kids got caught, and she got killed trying to save them.

taiga- tiger (how could i not go for the pun, and also canon did it first anyway). while once a common sight around town, after nagis death hes become a rare visitor, traveling more often than not, only stopping home once in a while. maybe he doesnt want to linger around the feelings left behind now that shes gone. scary and serious, but not out of bad intentions.

ken- fox (just like an). runs a somewhat popular cafe in town, comfortably settled down. he regrets not being there to protect his daughter, but theres nothing to do about it anymore. maybe one day shell come back, but for now, hes got a job to do and thats the most important thing for him to focus on.

nagi and taiga are fully aware that theyre siblings, unlike akito and ena. it was more common for their generation to be aware of this, rather than having knowledge about their origins withheld. they both were in an arena that focused on team fights, and when taigas original teammate was killed, nagi ended up with him, prompting him to help them both escape because he didnt want to let his sister get hurt more than necessary (even though shes capable of taking care of herself in a fight). they met ken (another arena escapee) during their way out of the city, and began traveling as a group of three until they found the town they all called home. their presence was an important part of making that town thrive into the place it is now, even if things for the trio have since fallen apart quite a bit. nagi is gone, taiga rarely sticks around, ken is the only one who stayed now.

meiko- bear. runs a convenience store at night in the undercity near one of the arenas (the one akikoha are in), well known around the area and uses her advantageous shop location to help new escapees get a little more set into their newly freed lives. a kind if intimidating woman, and very reliable at her jobs.

miku- striped hyena. just an average young escapee living in the undercity, although she doesnt try to blend in very well. ever since she got her hands on some hair dye shes been stubbornly sticking to the faded and grown out color, she thinks shes cool with it. friends with a couple humans who seem completely unbothered by her animal traits

luka- ibex. an escapee from the outer city workshops who decided to move to the undercity... and never really settles down anywhere. she likes to wander from place to place, experiencing the great expanse of the city from its depths. shes got her favorite places to come back to, but more than anything, shes always on the move to see something new.

kaito and the kagamines are humans (the kagamines are mikus human friends!) which is why theyre not here 👍

and thats everyone! apologies this is a monster of a post, but i hope youve enjoyed reading. and hopefully its semi coherent lol

[mocha-gladiator]

Chapter 1

I dont intend to post the chapters in succession, but maybe just a few favorites would be nice. This is based on my favorite fae, the ghillie-dhu, and as many doubts as I've had, I've always kept this one passage. I only hope it means well to you

Year 3702 BT

“Why do you cry, girl?” It was a simple question, never easily answered, but it came from such a soft and honest voice that she at first did not notice the teeth behind the kind smile. Ivy stared at him for a moment, a man dressed in green with moss growing over his shoulders and down his cape. His hair was wavy and black, and his eyes a pale yellow and ever changing, like a cat’s. She watched the pupils grow from slivers as he spoke again. “Why do you cry, girl?” Her own voice sounded like a lamb’s bleat, something she was not used to. But this was not home. This was not a place to be used-to. “I want to go home.” The creature grinned again, with teeth that were certainly not human. Ivy knew that if she had seen him from a distance, she most certainly would have ran, but here close she could see the humanness in his face and the warmth in his laugh. “I know all the trails,” he assured her. “The rabbit’s trail, the mouse’s trail, that of the deer and that of the man. Tell me—where is it you want to go?” “Home,” she bleated at once. But of course that made no sense. Not to him. “Whythiecomb.” The man in green nodded, and reached out a hand. A normal, human hand. “I will show you the way.” Ivy put her hand in his, and was a bit surprised to find it warm. But what had she expected? A cold, dead one? The fae were living creatures, too, after all. She walked with him out of the briar patch and stepped onto a trod path that had not been there before. Or else, if it had, she would have found it and followed it, right? The girl did not even know up from down in this forest anymore, not with night falling. Maybe the path had been there, and she had just been too tired to notice. Regardless, the dirt felt better on her bare feet, and the forest not nearly so scary with someone there for comfort and guidance. “Thank you,” she breathed, watching out the other way. “Do not thank anyone in the fae forest,” the black-haired man warned. “Someone might think that you owe them a favor if you say those words.” Ivy looked up at him. His tone felt different, but still gentle towards her, and his face was still on the road. “What do I say instead?” she asked. The fae was quiet for a moment, and she watched his yellow eyes dart around as he searched for the right thing to say. “You do not say. You choose some small thing to do or say instead.” He held up a silver hand, pointing up. “But you do not owe me a thing. Understood?” “Yeah.” She said on reflex, and he could tell she did not. His strange eyes turned back to her. Was it worth explaining? They had a little ways to go yet. He turned back to the road and drew a breath. “If you speak the thanks, the other person takes it as an owed debt, and they can choose to take it from you whenever they like, but you act out the thanks yourself, you get to choose. Sometimes all it has to be is leaving out a bowl of cream, or a shiny trinket. Does not have to be much.” Ivy tugged on his hand. “Isn’t a bowl of cream for cats? Do you like cream?” The fae chuckled under his breath and tugged her hand in turn. “No, girl. I asked for no thanks. I am just warning you if you were to meet someone else. But don’t come back this way again, yea? There are beasts in these woods that would like to eat little girls like you.” “No, there’re not.” she said at once. “Yes, there are,” he insisted. “Do not come back. I will not be here. I will not let you find me if you look. It is not safe.” He slowed to a stop as the treeline faded into a grassy field, and beyond lie a mill and farm and a pen with goats. The fae knelt down in the tall grass and set his other hand atop hers and looked her in the eye with his strange ones. She watched as his cheeks smiled kindly, and the darks of his eyes grew big. “But if you are ever lost in the woods again, you can call me, and I will come find you.” Her face drooped as she realized she would have to leave soon. “How will I call you?” she asked.

“I am Morad. Do you think you can remember that?” He cocked his head at her. “You are quite young. You may not.” “I will!” she said at once, bouncing on her feet. “I will, I promise!” Worry flashed in his eyes, followed by bemusement before his sharp-toothed grin returned and he shook his head. “Well, what is my name, then?” She stopped and stared at him. “Uhhhhm….” Another quiet chuckle stirred in his throat. “Morad,” he reminded. “My name is Morad.” “Morad,” she repeated back, then looked at him rather puzzled. “That’s a weird name.” The fae shook his head. “Not really, but I have forgotten my real one.” He winked. “Somebody stole it.” Her face crinkled up. How could somebody steal a name? You could not even touch it. “You’d best be off,” he pressed. “The stars will be out soon, and your family will start to miss you.” Her face sobered again. “Do you really have to go? You could come live with us.” For a moment, the strange creature almost looked hurt, as if he might cry, but the softness soon came back. “Nae. Homes are for little girls like you.” He poked her belly. “I am a wild thing, like the deer. The woods are my home.” “Can I see you again?” she asked as he rose to his feet. “Maybe,” he considered. “But do not come looking for me. You will never find me that way.” “But—“ Her mother’s voice came on the wind, and she turned her head to see the woman at the bottom of the fields near the stream. When she turned back, the fae was gone—nothing there beside her but a few crushed stalks. Her face saddened, but she turned towards home. “Goodbye, Morad,” she called anyway, waving her hand at the pitch dark. A pair of eyes glowed from the bushes, and the shadows brightly answered, “Goodbye, girl.”

[l-flyhight]

Im getting rather annoyed

No. Everyone has the right yo ship what they want. Whatever brings you joy. This is but my opinon thats it. No judgement no shame. Im venting.

Now im a bit of a multishipper. Like to see some diversity in art you know? But never have i met such people that are so angry or vicious as tipo shippers. Kung fu panda po x tigress

Where do i start with this? Never in the course of the films have at any point do they show or hint that their crushing on each other. No romantic coded scenes. Nothing. So thats unfortunate why i don't see what all you lovley people see because i dont.

Tigress tai lung and po are conected in the parent upbringing sibling cycle. But hey ship whatever you want.

Now this is where people start to hate on me but let me clarify no hate nor disrespect to anyone. Im sick of looking at kung fu panda art and what? 97% of it is tigress? How abertary. Dull. What about the others? Do they not deserve as much attention? Clearly not.

As for the ship people get my goat "make it canon" blah blah. In the art of story telling to have it rondomly their into each other after like nothing? Makes for bad writing.

I do enjoy anything kung fu panda related but the ship for me anyway just doesn't fly. Those whom are super into the franchise are like yes they are but those who have seen all three films and enjoy them are like what? No.

Again if your going to ship them why on earth is tigress oc? Like shes all happy and silly? No.

Still here? Angry yet? Fuming because my trained animation degree with honors head doesnt comprehend what apparently im missing? Well thats ok.

Now i know alot of people who are actually nice but ive met vicious fans directing their hate towards me. Death threats. Vulgar language. The works. Made me just not want to draw anything kung fu panda related due to it.

Now recently due to the encouragement of others i did draw ship art. Dragon knight? Yes. Why? Because its actually hinted at in such a badly written way. I wont get into it. Thats a rant another time.

Now as something that i personally dont like and that goes across any anthro media is interspecies relations. Not a fan. However their ate acceptions to the rule and that has alot to do with the universe in which the fandom is set. BNA for example. The grimior of zero explains this perfectly, interspecies actually doesnt matter due to the world building. But in cases like zootopia or kung fu panda (films only) interspecies relationships arnt explored nor shown.

As for tipo po loves kung fu thats it. The only time he has ever shown any interest in a girl is meimei. Drops his baobao bun. Pupils dilate. yes theirs a but the illusion broke when she spoke soooo that doesn't really count.

Still here? Well good for you. still pissed at me for not conforming to liking what everyone else does? Well that too is ok.

If you ship tipo thats cool. Heck ive seen art. Some of its nice. Art is art and a ship diesnt define a person. But stop with the viciousness po will probably never end up with tigress. But thats a good thing. He doesnt end up with anyone. That way everyone wins. But the viciousness and anger and the make it canon because insert reaons here is so stupid.

Stuck around? Read my vent? Great. Please refrain from commenting anything vulgar towards my person and remember. Opinon.

Ship whatever you like. Awesome. Great.

Now piss off. Im tired.

(Brit humour)

[clobertina]

(WIP)

Sketching the spirit variant of the feline goat boi because yes lol.

For context; all the non vengeful spirits in the underground have dark sclera and their irises are glowing (irises are the same color of their living counterparts) with white pupils). For the dark sclera, Toriel’s are dark fusha, Asgore’s are dark violet, and MK’s are dark orange for an example!

Asriel’s are black to reference his Undertale counterpart obviously lol, and is also why his spirit version now has the stripes (plan on giving the spirit versions of Toriel and Asgore stripes as well).

ALSO, the reason Spirit Asriel has the pendent and living Asriel doesn’t is because Chara went missing before he could even give it to them, now he wears it out of guilt.

Lol I hope the UT fandom’s Asriel favoritism doesn’t curse this post LOL

[angelic-writer]

(doesn't have to be today, take your time)

Doesn't even have to be something too long, just needs to be something lmao

So remember the Cairyx roomie thingy? (not the same anon btw) I know there's no established timeline, but there's hints that Cairyx "moves in" with Roomie before 2009 a.k.a the beeg cdta disaster

I wanted to make a request about : what if Cairyx decided to bring Luce along to meet his roomie, at fucking 2 am or shit, and now roomie has to put with the titan goat man as well for the next hour or two

If having one troublemaker is already enough stress on your sleep schedule, imagine two troublemakers who are divorced and one of them is the literal Devil

(Optional : DJ Roomie)

(Also optional : They wake roomie up by turning music up at super loud volume)

(I wrote all of this on my phone btw)

Okie-dokie!

If there is one thing you hated most in the world, it's rowdy neighbors waking you up in the middle of the night. Add a spider roommate that fucks around with your stuff and you might as well be begging for death.

Tonight was no different although he decided to bring his goat demon whatever-the-hell-it-was to your room. At 2 AM. And how do they wake you up? By blasting heavy metal music at a really loud volume. You were already scrambling out of bed, screaming and reaching for the plug.

"CAIRYX, I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON'T TURN THAT SHIT OFF RIGHT NOW, I AM GOING TO-"

You stop your screaming when you see a towering goat like figure staring at you. It was standing on its hind legs, its head tilted in an inquisitive manner. There were two sets of horns on its head. One was goat horns, the other was straight and pointed. Its eyes were bright, glowing red with its pupils shaped like pentagrams.

You try to process what you were seeing, but the screaming voices coming from the loudspeaker made it hard to focus. You just stare at the eight legged abomination that is your roommate.

"Cairyx. What the fuck?"

A few minutes later, you sat at the kitchen table, staring at Cairyx and his friend, coffee cup in hand.

"So. Are you gonna tell me why exactly you brought the Goatman to my place? I already have to deal with drunk people picking fights on my property during parties. You could've broken my stereo."

"we couldn't think of a better way to wake you up. :::)"

"Don't you mean you? My idea was much better." The goatman retorted.

"you mean dragging roomie here to the nightmare sand pit? i don't think so."

"You just don't like fun."

"yes i do. i bring them food. :::("

"By food, you mean bringing me animal carcasses that stain my freshly cleaned carpets?" You blankly asked Cairyx.

"you were starving. i had to bring you something."

"Let's be honest, anyone would lose their appetite if you keep bringing dead animals."

Cairyx turned to his goat friend. "soooo.... i've been thinking."

"If you say we should watch Titanic again, I'm gonna throw you out a window."

"uno."

The goatman groaned.

"c'mon, luce. it'll be fun."

"Fine. But I'm winning this time."

"You guys do that. I'm gonna go to bed." You say, sauntering off to your room.

Luce did not, in fact, win. Even with the pillow over your head, you can still hear them bickering at each other in a language that you didn't understand. You thought you heard crashing and glass shattering. You groan.

I'm never gonna get out of here, am I?

[0aurelion-sol0]

And now...

Here he is.

The man. The myth. The legend.

@hawkinsschoolcounselor is Master Yi.

Now onto Kay, who is actually quite hard to figure out... 🤔

[rockafirevevo]

eyebrows or no?

[mrsarnasdelicious]

The Ruins of You - Eskel

Butterflies flutter around between the large flowers and the chickens are clucking politely to a random visiting rabbit. They don't bother to shoo the critter from my cabbage patch.

But they cry out when they discover a goat trotting up to them.

I run around my cottage, where I have been hanging my laundry. I find my chickens all in a tizzy and a nanny goat in my cabbage patch. I run over, telling her to shoo. She bleats loudly at me and bends her neck to take a bite from one of my cabbages. "Oi!" I yell. The goat looks back up, her mouth full of cabbage.

"Little Bleater!" A man erupts from the ring of woods around my cottage. He is seated astride a black horse. The goat looks up at the man and bleats loudly at him. "Your goat?" I ask. "Yes." He replies. "My cabbage patch." I point out.

The man dismounts. "My apologies, My Lady." He says. He keeps his face turned slightly away from me. "I am not a lady." I gesture at my cottage. "Not a castle, just my humble abode." I say. "Has she eaten much?" The man asks. His voice is a deep rumble that makes the marrow in my bones quake. "Just one bite." I reply.

"Once again I apologise." He says, giving a little nod of his head. "It is no issue. I can never eat this many cabbages." I say gently. I find that I fluster a little. "Are you alone?" He asks. "Yes M'lord." I reply. "I am no lord, I am a Witcher. I am looking for a dry place to stay the night." He says. "Well, you are in luck. I have a roof and a hearth." I say.

"Come, let me show you the stable, so you can let your horse rest." I offer. His steed look noble, but weary. "Thank you."He replies. He follow me to the stables, still averting his face. "Where is your own horse?" He asks. "I let him roam free."I reply. "Is that not unsafe?" He frowns a heavy dark brow. "He can hold his own very well." I chuckle softly.

"Well, I'll leave you to it." I say gently. "Thank you, once again." The Witcher says.

I go back to my laundry.

I am all but done when the Witcher comes back around the cottage. The way he keeps his face turned away is starting to make me curious now. "Is everything alright, Master Witcher?" I ask. "Yes. Well, I am a little hungry, but I am otherwise fine." He answers. "Well, I have plenty of food inside. Follow me." I say.

I lead him inside my cottage.

"Sit down." I gesture. "I have no ale or wine, only a little bit of cider. I hope water or milk will do." I say, while cutting off a big piece of the freshly baked bread and pouring honey from a jar into a bowl. "I can bake you an egg, too." "Water is fine. And I would love some eggs." The Witcher answers. "As you wish, Master Witcher." I say sweetly. "Please, call me Eskel." He tells me.

"Eskel." I say his name, slowly and gently.

He, already seated at my small kitchen table, looks up at me. I finally get to see his full face. One half of it is all but disfigured by a great many scars. I can understand he is ashamed of his face, but I don't think he needs to be. Call me biased, but I think they add to his charm. I send him a gentle smile. Something hopeful crosses his face. There is a slight dilation in his cat like pupils.

I bake him his eggs and pour him a glass of water. I put it down in front of him and sit on the other end of the table with a bowl of berries. I picked those this morning. Eskel eats in silence. But he steals glances at me every so often. I smile at him every time he does.

Once he is done, I take his plate and wash it it a little cold water by the sink.

"Thanks." Eskel says, again. "I have no coin, so I cannot pay you." He informs me. "I don't need the coin anyway. I am glad to do you a kindness." I go over to him. He swallows audibly and looks up at me. "Not a great many are so willing to do a Witcher a kindness." He says. "Especially not me." He casts his eyes away.

I put a finger under his chin, tilting his head up a little so he looks up at me again. His pupils dilate a little more. "Do you say that because of your scars?" I ask. I know it is tactless, but I have never seen the use in mincing words. "People usually find it very off putting. I have been called monsterous for it." Eskel grunts. "They do make you look quite wicked. But I like it. You're quite handsome." I reply.

Fluster dusts his cheeks.

"Well... you are very beautiful, too." He then all but stammers. "Do you just say that to return the compliment?" I ask. "No, truly, I think you are beautiful." He replies. I bend down to press a chaste kiss onto his scars. I am not sure if they are sensitive and don't want to hurt him. But I do want to show him that his scars do not put me off.

Eskel's breath hitches in his throat. "Sorry, did that hurt?" I ask. Eskel shakes his head. "No, that actually felt quite pleasurable. Do it again, please." He replies.

I oblige, kissing from the top of the longest scar, all the way down to his chin. Except, I don't quite get the chance to go all the way down. Eskel turns his head when my lips graze the corner of his.

His mouth claims mine with quite some ferocity. I can't help a loud moan. Eskel groans huskily back at me. He stands up, without breaking the kiss. He is so tall I have to go on my tippy toes. Gods, he is good at this, even though his lips are rough and slightly chapped.

I instantly want more of him.

His tongue licks into my mouth. I meet him with my own and moan. The feeling of him invading me like this already has me wet. It tastes of the promise of something much deeper. Eskel groans and his tongue searches my mouth. He explores my teeth and my own tongue. I suck lewdly on his lips. First his bottom and then his upper lip.

Eskel pulls away minutely. "Would you take me to bed?" He asks. "I will." I reply. "Then hurry, before I put you on the table." He growls. "I don't mind that either." I cooe. Eskel throws his head in his neck and laughs. A raspy, barking laugh. "As you wish." He smirks. He takes me by my hips and plonks me down on the table. "At least we are on a little bit of a level now." He says. "Good, I like that." I cooe. I hook one leg around his hip. He seems to be very well build.

I cup his cheek and turn his face to the side. "So fierce, so handsome." I whisper. Eskel's ear heats up with fluster. I smirk and nip at the lobe. "Oh fuck." Eskel hisses. I press my lips tenderly against his scars. Eskel tilts his head a little towards me, to give me better access. "Hmmm, your skin is so warm and smooth." I murmur. Carefully I trace one of the taut lines with my tongue. A little desperate noise tumbles from Eskel's lips. I trace a second scar back upwards with open mouthed kisses. "Oh fuck, this is so good." Eskel whispers. "No one ever done this to you before?" I ask softly. Eskel shakes his head as best as he can. "No, I usually ask people to avoid touching me there." He replies. "I did not give you that opening, though." I whisper.

I bite gently at his jaw. His stubble feels a little odd under my teeth. But his groan is delicious. I revel in the noises he makes as I explore the sharp line of his jaw and then go back up his scarred face. Eskel is moaning and clawing at my dress by the time I have ventured my way to his lips again.

"Fuck, you have made me so hard." He growls.

"Oh darling, it is only the start." I whispers. "Damn!" Eskel swears. He leans over to claim my lips with his own. The kiss is so intense that thick wet arousal beads at my core. "I smell you. You are so turned on." Eskel grunts into my mouth. "I am, I am very turned on." I affirm. Eskel smiles a lopsided smile. "Just from kissing and licking on my face?" He asks. He sounds a little surprised. "Mostly by your reaction." I reply. "I love the sound of your moans." I admit. "Well, it would seem I am not done moaning yet, so eat your heart out." Eskel chuckles.

We kiss again and I begin to fiddle with the straps and things of his armour and jerkin. Eskel calmly lets me do as I please. He does not stop me, nor hurry me. His mouth does not part from mine as he do my best to push his jerkin over his muscular shoulders. He chuckles growlingly against my lips. "Do you want me to take it off?" He asks, teasingly. "Yes." I affirm. "Then ask nicely." He smirks.

Oh, so he can tease.

I lean in to graze the shell of his ear with ghosting lips. "Please, Master Witcher, take off your jerkin." I ghost my lips down his scars again. "Oh ... as you wish, My Lady." Eskel growls. He shrugs out of his red, studded jerkin, revealing an equally red shirt. "Huh, staying in theme." I can't help a giggle. Eskel shrugs his broad shoulders. "Will you take your shirt off for me too?" I cooe, faux innocent. I send him big blue doe eyes. "Damn, how do you do that?" Eskel cups my cheek and leans in for another kiss.

It is a sloppy kiss. All tongue, teeth and saliva. It seems my doe eyes affect him more than anticipated. I moan and lick into his mouth. Eskel groans huskily. It is a delightful noise. More slick beads at my core.

I hop down from the table, breaking the kiss. I got slowly to my knees. Eskel looks down on me. His pupils are blow wide. "May I take off your trousers, M'Lord." I ask demurely. Eskel needs a moment to give me and answer. He gazes down on me as though he sees something miraculous. Which I am, of course not. "Yes you may." He replies.

I reach up to undo the straps of his codpiece. It makes me giggle a little. "What is so funny?" Eskel asks. "I just think codpieces are a bit ... droll." I smile smugly. "Droll, she says." Eskel gestures for me to get up. I oblige. He whirls me around rucks up my skirts. "I will give you droll." He growls.

Rather suddenly he lands a spank on my ass. "Oh!" I cry out. Arousal drips down my thigh. "She likes that." Eskel remarks. He flicks my skirts back down and smooths them out. "I will have you know I wear that codpiece with good reason." He tells me with a purring voice. Well, that most certainly makes me excited.

I undo the lacing of his trousers. Eskel kicks off his boots and pulls his shirt over his head. I discard his codpiece and draw his trousers down. His small clothes comes down as well. His cock springs free. He is full hard and so large. His bollocks hang quite low and are in proportion to his cock. I most certainly to understand the use of the codpiece now. Imagining those getting a hit just causes me some second hand pain.

I go to my knees again.

"I would like to suck your cock." I whisper. "I am not going to hold you back." Eskel rumbles. I lick my lips and lean in to press a chaste kiss on the tip of his cock. "You can do better." Eskel teases. "Absolutely." I affirm. I lean in closer to press a kiss at the root of his cock. Eskel makes an impatient little sound. I smirk at how I appear to affect him. It is quite cute, actually.

I take him in my mouth in earnest, though. I don't want him to have to wait too long. Eskel swears under his breath. "I warn you, it has been a while." He says. I do not reply. I simply take him as far as I can manage. I gag ever so slight and feel my heart skip a beat at the knowledge I am not even halfway down his cock. He's gona be bumping my cervix while he fucks me. More arousal wets my thighs.

"Do I make you that horny?" Eskel asks, his voice a deep growl. I cast my eyes down. Not because I am ashamed. I have never been abashed about sexuality. But to affirm his statement. This man turns me on beyond belief.

I continue sucking his cock for a good while.

Eskel tangles his fingers in my hair and pulls me off his cock. "You are so good, but I don't want to cum yet." He murmurs. He reaches out to wipe some saliva from the corner of my mouth. I turn my head a little and suck his finger into my mouth. "Fuck!" Eskel groans. He pulls his finger from my mouth and redirects me to his cock. I moan lewdly around his length. "Yes, fuck yes." Eskel groans. I can simply smell he is coming apart at the seams.

He fucks my mouth shallowly until he reaches his climax. His moans echoe through my small cottage as he spends himself down my throat. He shoves himself in as far as I can take it. My eyes water a little and I take deep breath through my nose. But I swallow everything he gives me. And he gives me quite some.

"Gods." Eskel pulls his cock out of my mouth. I lick my lips, panting a little. "Too much?" I ask. "I was not planning on cumming so soon." Eskel replies. "Were you at all planning on getting your cock sucked, though?" I get up, smoothing out my skirts. Eskel shakes his head.

"I should get you out of that dress." He says.

He undoes the lacing of my dress and I slip out of the sleeves. The dress slips off and falls into a heap at my feet.

Eskel's eyes venture up and down my body. "You are beautiful." He growls. He grabs me by the hips and yanks me close for a possessive kiss. I moan loudly against his mouth. He simply makes my blood boil.

"Go lay down." Eskel growls into my mouth.

I slip out of his embrace and climb into my bed alcove.

Eskel is swift to follow me. I scoot over to make room for him. But rather than laying down beside me, Eskel pulls me, by my ankle, back to the middle of the spacious bed. He climbs into the alcove and right on top of me.

"I have got you now." He growls. "I am all yours." I whisper. "Yes you are." He affirms. He leans forward to claim my mouth with his again. I moan and roll my hips. My wet folds slide along his shaft. Eskel growls into my mouth. I revel in the sound. It is so primal and see deep.

Eskel grinds down on me and lets his lips wander. He kisses down my cheek, to my jaw. I tilt my head away. "Very good." Eskel growls. He nips at my jaw and then my throat. I moan happily for him. I put my legs around his sculpted hips and push one heel into muscular ass. Eskel groans. "So eager." He growls. Even though he just came, he is already hardening again. In fact, I doubt he has softened at all.

"I will take my time on you." He murmurs.

From my throat he kisses back up to my ear. I roll my head to the side. His breath fans over my ear and I whimper loudly. I am so weak for it. "Are you sensitive there?" Eskel asks. "Y-yes." I whimper. Gods, I feel so needy. He leans in and nips carefully at the shell of my ear. His tongue traces the outer shell to the lobe and he sucks slowly. I recognise he is trying his best not to make any noise. I am so grateful for that. I on the other hand, am anything but quiet. I am squealing and whining like a bitch in heat at his ministrations.

"Gods, the sounds of you." He growls. His breath fans over my ear again. I squirm and whimper loudly. "You drive me wild." Eskel grunts. His lips trail down my jaw. I arch against him, moaning continuously. Eskel groans against my skin. "You are testing my self control." He hisses. I smirk to myself. "Please be good to me." I cooe. "Absolutely." Eskel affirms.

From my neck and throat, his mouth ventures slowly to my breasts. Of course, he leaves plenty of marks in his wake. I quake and squirm below him. It is almost overwhelming, but I want more. He litters kisses on my breast and licks at my skin. The gestures look so obscene that more arousal drips from my core. Eskel takes my nipple into his mouth. I moan and rake my hand through his hair. Eskel groans in answer and his tongue swirls along my areola. "M-more." I whimper. "Gladly." Eskel rumbles. He works my nipple with his teeth and then switches to my other breast.

All the while, his pelvis is slowly rocking against mine. And with each motion, his shaft drags against my swollen clit. I am getting wetter by the second.

But I loose the friction when Eskel begins to kiss down from my breasts. He has to forfeit the contact between our pelvises, his back won't arch that much. He is so much bigger than I. I whine at the loss. "Hush, I will offer you something better." Eskel says. "I doubt there is anything better than your cock." I muss.

Eskel chuckles huskily.

He dips his tongue in my belly button. I squeal and giggle. "You are so sensitive." Eskel growls. "Y-yes I am." I whine. Lower and lower his mouth goes. I shudder and whine when he kisses at my thighs. "Oh gods! Oh please!" I moan. Eskel digs his teeth into the flesh of my thighs. Over and over again. Until there are more marks on my skin than freckles.

Then his breath pours over my folds. I whine loud. Light touches like that work so well for me. It drives me mad with lust. Eskel bends lower. His tongue parts my folds. I whine and squirm away. I press my bruised thighs together.

"Do you not want this?" Eskel asks. His strong hands are already gently prying my thighs apart. "It tends to overwhelm me so much." I whisper. "That's okay. I'll be gentle. I'll go slow. I just want to taste you." He rumbles. Hesitantly I open my thighs for him again. "Very good." Eskel growls. He kisses at the marks he left on my thighs and blows hot air over my folds. I whimper and squirm again, though I do my best not to wriggle away.

Eskel's strong hands pin my thighs against the sheets.

His tongue runs upwards over my folds and then down again. Carefully he parts them, licking up and down again. From my perineum to my clit. "Gah!" I cry out. I claw at the sheets and do my best to lay as still as I can. Very carefully, Eskel stimulated my clit with his tongue. The sensation is so strange and so much. I can hardly bear it. I feel the urge to squirm away, but Eskel pins me down.

"I don't think I can handle this." I whimper.

Eskel props himself up on his elbows. "Is it not pleasurable?" He asks. I flush. "Oh go-gods... It is. But it is just so much." I whisper. "I would like to try and make you cum, though." Eskel murmurs. He leans down to lap at my womanhood with the broad of his tongue. I moan and try to stay as still as I can. Eskel slowly ushes his tongue inside me. The sensation is foreign and I whine in slight discomfort. But Eskel groans. "You taste so good." He rumbles, his tongue pulled out of me again. Fluster creeps onto my cheeks and into my neck.

Eskel focusses on my clit again. With little kitty licks that make me twitch. "Eskel, ooooh Eskel." I whimper. It is very pleasurable, but it is so much for my poor brain to work with. Such an intense sensation, so much and so good. Tears start pricking behind my eyes. I feel my throat constrict. I don't want to cry! I don't want to seem weak. I want this a good experience for Eskel, too.

"Let it go. It's okay." Eskel rumbles. It is like he knows what I am struggling with. And it's okay...

I take a shuddery breath and try to stay calm. It is okay to feel this much, not need to cry. But of course the tears come, unbidden as ever. It's okay to cry. But the tears are not only thing that comes. My climax washes me away too. In a slow and burning way. I moan and sob at the same time. It makes my mind spin out of control.

My core contracts on nothing and every time my inner muscles relax I feel more empty. "Please Eskel, please fuck me." I whisper. "Not yet." Eskel replies.

His mouth wanders yet lower. And it soothes me. It gives me the chance to calm down and relish the familiarity of gentle touches. Slowly my breath slows and my heart calms. My tears cease and I relax. "There we go." Eskel murmurs, brushing his lips past my knees. "Hmmm..." Is the only this I can utter.

Eskel comes back up to my face. He kisses away the last of my tears and then captures my lips with his own. I taste myself on his tongue. I crinkle my nose, not really liking the taste. But I kiss him back the same, because his kisses make me feel so desired.

He nests his pelvis against mine again. I whimper at the drag of his cock against my sensitive clit. "Oh ... oh Gods!" I hook my legs around his hips. Eskel begins to grind against me. I moan at each single motion. I feel warmth build into the pit of my stomach. Another orgasm approaches me.

"Please, I need you." I whisper.

This time sits Eskel back a little and pulls my pelvis into his lap.

His thumb brushes over my clit. I moan loudly. "Please, Eskel." I whine. He lines himself up in an agonisingly slow way. I look up at him, doing my best not to be too impatient. I am so fucking needy for his cock, though. Slowly he pushes in. I throw my head back and moan loudly. Gods is it good to finally be filled with his cock.

He stretches me open so wide. It is so insanely satisfying.

He pushes roughly half his cock into me before slowly retracting. I whine a little. I want to be filled with his cock. His entire cock!

"Just... just fuck me. I can take it." I whisper. "Are you sure?" Eskel asks gently. "Yes." I nod. He shoves his entire length home in one fell swoop. And it hurts so good! "Gahoooooooooh yes, yes Eskel, yes!" I cry out. "Fuck, you are so wet." Eskel grunts.

He fucks me, slowly.

"Why?" He asks. "Why what?" I feel confusion flutter in my lower belly. "Why didn't you cringe away from me, at any moment?" He rumbles. "What do you mean?" I answer with yet another question. "Many women are repulsed by me, because of my scars. They say I am a monster." Eskel explains. I make a soothing sound. I cup his scarred cheek with one hand. "Oh, darling, from one monster to another, I don't think you are one at all." I whisper. "At least, not by your scars."

Eskel narrows his eyes. One of his hands flies to his pendant. "Fuck." He swears under his breath.

"What are you." He demands. "Can't you guess. I thought you Witchers were so good at sensing monsters. And only now you bother to check." I can't help but tease. Eskel's hand moves swiftly from his pendant to my throat. I whimper. But I smirk up to him all the same. "Too busy getting your cock wet?" I taunt. I just can't stop myself. Blotchy fluster appears on his face. "Yes... Yes, I was too happy you were so willing and so eager. I was fooled that you saw past my scars." Eskel growls.

His hand tightens on my throat.

I whine in pleasure. "I meant it, though." I rasp. "I meant every last kiss." I manage, before his hand tightens even more. I suck in air, wriggling a little. Gods, this feels good.

"I know that is what you do. You kill monster. You could kill me so easily. Snap my neck, choke me out. Do it. It is up to you. But then at least make my last moment a worthy one and fuck me, hard." I whisper.

Eskel fucks me, hard. His grip on my throat briefly tightens even a little bit more. But soon he relaxes his hold and simply just ploughs me like a man gone wild. Though then, suddenly, he pulls out. "Turn over." He growls. I happily oblige. I love it from behind.

He slams back into me, all the way. The angle makes everything so much better. He grabs my firmly by the hip with one hand and by the scruff of my neck with the other. And he fucks me within an inch of my life.

I cum on his cock. The palms of my hands an soles of my feet feel like they are on fire and my teeth are tingling. I howl and moan in pleasure. And I cum again.

And then Eskel cums. He spends himself deep inside me. I can feel it and moan loudly for him. Eskel groans wickedly, his fingers dipping into my flesh. It takes a few minutes for Eskel's pelvis to stop stuttering and his cock to grow flaccid.

I fall into the sheets, basking in the afterglow of my orgasms. Eskel lays down beside me. His hand finds mine. "You took that so well." He rumbles. He turns his head and kisses my neck. I don't reply with more than a happy little sigh.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

you+me+the Devil, m | myg, jjk | collect

pairing(s): yoongi x reader x jungkook

summary: The mind seeks to understand, to categorize, to make something out of nothing. You are a vessel of this Disorder, driven to collect the final two souls your body is tasked to hold. One, the right-hand of the Devil, Jeon Jungkook. And two, the Devil himself, Min Yoongi. How to obtain them? By fucking, but on the Devil's terms, because when the Devil is involved, his domain regains supreme.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language - if you're religious, maybe skip this one; world building; supernatural and horror (extra arms / hands, eyeballs, mouths); smut (fem reader, unprotected sex (you're getting fucked by the Devil, STIs and pregnancy are the last of your problems), a collar and leash is involved, voyeurism, scratching / marking, choking, nipple play, cowgirl, creampie, m and f-receiving oral, double penetration, (double?) handjob, penetrative sex on top of a puddle of cum on JK's abs, spanking); non-idol!AU - Hell!AU; Devil!Yoongi x chaos!reader x Devil's right-hand demon!Jungkook and switches between their POVs

yes, you read the horror warning correctly

–

you and me and the Devil makes 3 prologue | the summoning | the collection | 666

-

if you get in bed, someone will fall in love

The Disorder is a strange thing.

The world attempts to make sense of and organize things as if it knows. Everything must have a reason, an explanation, a why, until you get deeper and deeper, realizing biology is only chemistry, and chemistry is only physics, and physics is only math, and math is… simply theory. A hope of truth, clawing together the chaos. But the real truth is, all order comes from disorder. To organize means to be disorganized from the start.

Beings of Order are not supposed to touch Disorder, not directly. It trickles down, slowly flowing though, a part of life everyone has, but no one can harness. Senseless moments brushed off as nothing. To encounter such a concentrated form, well, surely, nothing good can come of it.

Then again.

The Devil wasn’t good. Far from it.

Would he learn anything at all? Doubtful. Did he care? No. But he had time. He had forever. And he had souls, for he could consume them, an amalgamation of all the previous consumptions combined. The original Devil. The many faces thereafter. The current, Min Yoongi. If all you wanted was a little piece of one, well, he wouldn’t even miss it.

Jeon Jungkook?

His right-hand demon would lose a soul shard and become yours, just like the rest of them. Infatuated, consumed, blinded. He was a fool for agreeing so easily, clouded by anger and lust. But that was no matter. If eventually the Devil decided he wanted to change faces, it would no longer be a problem.

Yoongi had plans.

He would see them through.

-

You sat in the center of the bed, holding the black goat-man plush to your chest, squeezing his leather hooves, legs tucked under you.

They were at the end of the bed.

Jeon Jungkook, long black hair in messy and tangled curls, clinging to his cheeks and forehead. A cut on his high, tanned cheekbone from fighting the chains, dark red blood coagulated. Sharp jaw tensed, borderline fury and uninhibited deviance. Dark brown eyes with an exquisite shape, forever memorable. His black suit was torn up, blazer and dress shirt hanging by threads and exposing his toned chest. He made no move to correct it.

The Devil's right hand.

Your gaze shifted to the Devil.

Shorter black hair, pointed, more intrusive dark eyes. Paler, standing out against the black. The faintest trace of a smile on pink lips, a face with predatory feline grace. He was shorter than Jungkook, not as heavily built. Slim and sharpened, deadly like a sword. Hands in his pockets, suit pristine. There was no mistaking who was in charge here.

You squished the goat-man to your breasts.

The human heart was beating.

Singing.

Fuck me.

-

"Hyung."

Yoongi was observing you carefully.

"What is she?"

The Devil chuckled. "Does it matter? You love to fuck."

"But she has the soul shards of the five highest ranking demons in Hell," Jungkook hissed in his ear. Goosebumps on his skin at the younger demon's hot breath. Yoongi felt the sides of his lips curve upwards, tilting his head slightly so Jungkook's voice drifted on more of his neck. Still not looking at him, eyes on yours.

You kept pushing the plush into your chest, dark lips parting.

Jungkook stepped closer, body barely brushing against his, body heat radiating. "Why does she have them? Where are they?" he breathed, head lowering, so close his black hair feathered onto the Devil's neck, his lips almost touching Yoongi's skin.

Yoongi's eyes bored into yours, his own flaring with sparks of red. Voice deepening, taking up the whole room. He doubted you would be affected by his persuasive power. It wasn't for your sake.

"Show me the shards."

Jungkook moaned softly in his ear, shuddering.

You smiled that little smile. Yoongi held up a hand, preventing Jungkook from touching him. The younger demon whined, but he paid it no mind. You lowered the little goat-man, placing him on the nightstand.

To watch.

You reached to the high collar, to the zipper of the dress. The pull was shaped like a cross. Yoongi’s smile widened. A cute joke. Down it went, smooth, revealing your neck, waiting to be bitten. Exposing your collarbones, a small tattoo in the center just below them, at the top of your sternum.

Now the Devil was grinning.

An upside-down pentagram with two rings around it. Black. Simple. Most likely christened on that smooth skin before you became what you are now. A sweet little foreshadowing.

Lower.

Then Yoongi’s expression hardened.

Right below the tattoo, there they were. Thin diamonds, needle-like black gems that gleamed red and purple, pulsing as if they were alive, embedded in your skin below your tattoo and above the swell of your breasts. The demon soul shards, five of them in a semicircle, with an empty space at the center and one at the bottom left, not yet filled. Your flesh was indented in those two spots, clearly waiting for Jeon Jungkook and the Devil.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, removing his hands from his pockets.

They were part of you.

That made you a human, bedded with shards of high demon soul, soiled with Disorder. Yoongi eyes widened, realization streaking through him. Something flickered in the vacancy of your eyes, torn back down by ice-silver. Like a spider’s web suspended delicately in air, you were wound with silken string, demon soul shards penetrating the human shell.

Is that what was keeping you, the Vessel, from collapsing?

The four horns protruded from Yoongi’s head, black-red and wicked. He narrowed his eyes as you lowered the zipper more, revealing the black lace bra molded to your breasts.

“Let me bring part of me to you,” he rasped, the power soaring through him, dark smoke simmering from his lips. He heard Jungkook suck in a tight breath, pressing himself against Yoongi, drawn to the power, intoxicated by it.

The Devil’s voice boomed, resonating to an inhuman octave.

“Domain Expansion: Devil’s Advocate.”

The room rippled, his power manifesting in time and space, creating a pocket of Hell itself. Black shadows wrenched open every crack, snaking out and crawling all over, long spider-liker arms ending in elongated claws, skittering, skittering, rushing towards the bed, pawing at the black sheets. Advancing on you, threatening, more and more and more, black shadows twisting and writhing, trying to get to your legs. The air shimmered with red, almost as if it was on fire.

You tilted your head, pausing.

Seams on the thin shadowy arms opened, bloodshot eyes rolling in their sockets until they fixated on your form on the bed, quivering slits of black pupils surrounded by red irises. The hands sank into the sheets, claws flexing, almost touching you.

But not quite.

“Jungkook, leash her.”

Like a black arrow, Jungkook lunged at the bed, launching himself above the eyeball-covered shadows, crushing them, sending jets of gushing blood across the sheets, soaking them red, and yet the hands stroked his muscular fit body, lingering before he appeared before you, dark brown orbs gleaming with red and black flecks, his power amplified by Yoongi bringing Hell to the surface. His horns protruded from the sides of his head, swirled like ram’s horns, blacker than they were red. They were large and sharp, framing his strong features with more strength.

His hand raised, voracious grin on his face.

“Let’s begin, pet.”

And then it was on your throat, you gasping in his tightening grasp, cutting off your circulation, hands falling into your lap, leaning into Jungkook’s hold. He hesitated, seeing the look in your eyes. They weren’t void of emotion.

An ice-silver shimmered through them, and there was a flicker of something.

Need.

You dug your fingers into the bed and whimpered, catching your lower lip between your teeth, gazing at him with half-lidded eyes.

“J… Jungkook…”

He pulled his hand away, but it was already done, the thick black leather collar on your neck, imprinted with red pentagrams and a silver center ring, black leather leash extending in Jungkook’s fingers, tangling him in it. It had already begun and the lust was brimming within him, insatiable, eager to consume, no longer worried about that small flicker of humanity he might have imagined. To be a demon is to be cursed to feel, emotion and free will entangled, a servant of the Devil but not without indulgence.

Full of sin and prepared to act on it.

Jungkook grinned, long black hair wild and curled around his horns.

“What’s your name, pretty pet?” he purred, flicking his middle finger on your chin, your dark mauve lips parting, looking up at him.

You told him.

He savored it with his lips, already aroused by it. He lowered the hand with the leash, snaking it between your legs, lowering his face to you and your hot breath, moaning at the intensity of the feeling, not quite human, but something more and something familiar, demon lust and human reaction mixed with an unknown drug.

Jungkook loved to fuck.

“Can’t wait to make you my plaything,” he breathed against your cheek.

You whined as his hand trailed down your ass, pulling out the end of the leash between your legs, gripping it from the front and back, snapping it up into your clothed pussy. A loud, sharp slap cracked the air as it connected, making you moan depravedly and tremble in his hands, your own coming up to grab his torn shirt. He ground the leash into the folds of the clothing, hot friction and unforgiving leather. He could feel it, the pleasure and the pain radiating off you, sparks of heat as you bucked down into the strap, the sweet scent your juices soaking through your panties.

Jungkook inhaled deeply, the taste at the tip of his tongue, shoulders shaking at the scent of sex, invigorating his veins, heart racing. Your fingernails dug into his chest, your eyes reflecting his high, his pleasure in abusing your pussy, tainting you with him in this Hell domain.

The Devil leaned over, tongue sliding out. Jungkook stiffened, biting his lip, watching intently as Yoongi neared, closer and closer to your ear. When was the last time Jungkook was allowed to indulge with the Devil? Even if it wasn’t, it felt like forever ago. Too long. His blood was boiling, singing to the Devil, praying for more.

Yoongi’s dark eyes shifted to him for a moment.

Jungkook’s lower lip popped out of his teeth, small whine in his chest.

-

The Devil smiled knowingly, leaning even farther in so his soft lips brushed against your earlobe, the taste of your skin on his wicked tongue. An interesting taste, but distinctly human. Yoongi sighed in satisfaction, nearly a moan, eyes shifting back to your profile. You were staring at Jungkook and Jungkook was staring at him.

“Five demons this body has withstood.”

The thought made him hard.

“What’s two more?” Yoongi chuckled deep in his chest, placing his hand on your heaving chest, right above the soul shards.

No.

It hovered, the faintest sliver of space between his hand and your breasts. The more he pushed, the more it pushed back, gleaming sparks scalding his palm. Yoongi gritted his teeth, seeing the black tendrils laced with ice-silver snake around his fingers. The scent of burning flesh stained the air. Not holy magic. Something else. Something far less controlled. The Devil could feel pain, but it was nothing more than fuel for his emotions, a means to an end.

You lowered more of your weight onto the leash, moaning as the leather dug in deeper, the scent of sex stronger, rocking your hips back and forth. Yoongi suddenly felt the pain lessen, the black tendrils retreating, ice-silver fading into nothing. His eyebrows raised, fascinated. The introduction of passion and your human body reacting to it. The disembodied black arms around them scabbed around, nonsensical red eyes veering in all directions, crawling across the sheets, desperate to touch and soil the human.

His palm was getting closer.

Closer.

Closer to your chest.

Yoongi’s hand touched your shuddering breast.

Instantly the shadowy, eyeball-covered hands were on your body, clawing at your clothes, caressing your skin, up your back and to your head, pulling you by the hair and making you moan, Jungkook completely letting go of the leash and placing his hands on your breasts, one over Yoongi’s, curling the Devil’s fingers under the lace cup, pulling hard.

Yoongi made no move to stop him.

Jungkook ripped your bra apart, sucking in a tight breath as your breasts bounced free, diving down to latch his lips onto them, his hot mouth to your cool skin, moaning at the taste of human mixed with demon, the five shards on your chest glimmering, his five hyungs infused into this body with the exception of the Devil himself.

“Fuuuuuuuck…”

He shoved his hands under the ribbons of your dress and yanked your body up to his greedy mouth, biting and lapping at your skin, flickering his tongue over your nipples, your hands finding his shoulders, wanton whimpers quivering from your chest to Jungkook’s mouth. He drank it all up, the sweet taste of flesh, the heavy scent of sex, the sound of tainted lust, whining as his shirt was torn to bits by exploring shadowy hands. The Devil’s work. Jungkook looked up to see Yoongi on the other side of you, one of his pale hands in your hair and the other pushing your chin back, his head descending.

“A kiss from Hell, just for you,” Yoongi murmured.

The Devil’s lips on yours.

You audibly moaned right into Yoongi’s mouth as he tilted his head, fitting his lips to your dark mauve ones, soft but rough, tongue sliding in, fucking you with it, slow and maddening, the aphrodisiac of his kiss turning even the most prudish of humans into a sobbing mess, begging and pleading for more.

But, as he suspected, you were no ordinary human.

Your tongue wound around his, pressing your lips harder to his despite his hold on your hair, exhaling in his mouth, intoxicating all on its own, pushing your chest into Jungkook’s face, your arms held back by Hell’s shadows, your muscles tense and shivering.

Yoongi felt it, the hot spark of near pain.

You could break out at any time.

Yoongi broke the kiss, breathing hard, his eyes finding yours. Like small mirrors, they reflected himself back. And yet. There was definitely something underneath that standing water. Poison? Or something else?

Jungkook grabbed your chin and kissed you hard, moaning at your taste and the Devil’s lingering saliva.

“Yes, fuck, yes…”

Your dress ripped apart, the demon hands doing the Devil’s work, leaving red scratches on your skin, Jungkook doing the rest, rough fingers shoving the fabric scraps out of the way, bits of your bra thrown aside, shreds of black adding to the shadows already surrounding the bed. All eyes on you and your exposed body in Jungkook’s arms, his hard bare chest pressing into yours, skin to hot skin, lifting you like a doll, one hand winding around the leash.

Kissing you like he owned you, already his possession by the way you gasped into his mouth, breathless as he took your sweet exhale with his fiery inhale, his fingernails scraping down your back.

“Stop playing around,” the Devil commanded harshly.

Jungkook started, breaking the kiss as the shadowy arms encircled him and you, locking your bodies in a tight embrace. The red eyes in the shadows flickered, blinking, morphing, changing.

Into mouths.

Into tongues.

“H-Hyung…!”

Yoongi smirked behind your head, eyebrow cocked as Jungkook shuddered and moaned, red forked tongues from ghostly arms flickering across his skin, grasping you so tightly that you whined against his chest, the tongues on you too, drenching you in swipes of Hell’s saliva.

As if the Devil himself was licking you, but all over.

“Hyung, w-wait…” Jungkook managed to get out, hands on your shoulders.

Like two star crossed lovers, except one was a demon and one barely had any humanity left.

Yoongi cracked his neck, grinning widely, all malice and no mirth.

Devilishly, even.

“Can’t wait any longer. I just have to know.”

The Devil’s hands swooped down, twisting between your body and Jungkook’s, undoing the button and the zipper of Jungkook’s slacks impossibly fast, the shadows aiding him, pulling them down, ripping apart the underwear, Jungkook gasping as Yoongi’s long fingers closed around his hard, leaking cock.

“Ah, don’t–”

But it was too late, the Devil’s hand wrapped around him, pleasure sprinting through his veins and swarming every nerve, Yoongi’s other hand pushing your wet heat closer, closer, dark chuckles and fiendish words invading his senses, the Devil himself pulling all his strings.

“Ah, I know all the things you like, Jungkookie…” Yoongi drawled, placing the head against your slit, coating it with your slick but not letting Jungkook enter you, making the younger demon growl with want. “I know you love playing with the humans for hours…” Leaning in, putting his face above your left shoulder, hovering with a sinister smirk. “And I know you secretly love it when you’re being forced to do something.”

The Devil’s pink tongue snaking out, licking Jungkook’s cheek, making him moan in your face and lean his forehead against yours, the lust overwhelming, unable to move due to the shadowy mouth-covered arms and the Devil’s power. Your body trembled in his embrace, your whimpers against Jungkook’s lips and Yoongi’s cruel, raspy laughter ringing in his ears as Jungkook’s cock swelled in his hand.

“You just love it when it’s me ordering you around, don’t you, Jungkook?”

Jungkook was staring in your eyes, seeing his own desperation and shameful happiness reflected back at him, admitting the truth because there was nothing he could hide from the Devil.

“Y… Yes, hyung,” he breathed into your mouth.

Yoongi let go of his cock the same time he pushed your dripping core onto Jungkook, sinking you all the way down, two simultaneous moaning screams intertwining and filling up the entire room infested with Hell’s domain.

-

Inside.

You felt it, a tiny pulse.

You looked around in the abyss, not expecting to see anything.

How long had you been here? Ah, did it matter? Nothing mattered. In this world, there was only emptiness. You saw nothing, heard nothing, remembered nothing, cared about nothing. If there was no sadness, there was no happiness. If there was no existence, there was nothing to worry about, cry about, feel pain about. Nothing to live for. Nothing at all.

And yet.

You had sensed something.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

You looked up.

Four black horns adorning a head of black hair and fair skin, lips peeled back, eyes glittering.

Menace. Amusement. Glee. Lust. Fascination.

Passion.

Who was that?

You squinted.

You… had eyes.

And suddenly it all rushed to the surface, jammed into sensory overload, tongues on your skin, heat overwhelming, a sweaty cheek pressed against yours, your chest prickling with sensitivity, pain from a tight embrace, and you gasped a lungful of air as you felt the demon’s cock enter your tight, wet hole, saturated with arousal, eye to eye with blazing dark brown orbs surrounded by wet black curls, your pussy stretched too far too fast, but adrenaline adapting the pain into even more pleasure.

Felt.

You could feel everything.

“J-Jungkook…”

Words.

You could hear the demon’s lips curve into a wicked grin.

“I love it when you’re whimpering my name, pet,” he drawled.

There was nothing to wonder about. No desire to know your past or if you had a future, no desire to know why you were here, what was going on, not even the need to know how you were aware of the demon before you and his name, Jeon Jungkook.

There was only one goal.

Chasing all aspects of pleasure and passion.

The shadows around your two retreated slowly, forked red tongues sliding back into shadowy pits surrounded by crevices slashed on black disembodied arms, but none of that mattered as you leaned in to Jungkook’s face, hands rising to grip his shoulders, cracking pleas in your throat at the sensation of being too full and sensory overload dominated by lust.

“F-Fuck me, please…” you panted, adjusting to straddle his lap better, his raw cock twitching against your throbbing walls. “Please, Jungkook…”

His hands were on your shoulders, his head lifting and eyebrow cocking, arrogant expression on his face.

“Of course, my little human.”

He lowered his hips, nearly pulling out, leaving you in a whine, almost empty before roughly shoving himself back in, filling you all the way to maximum ecstasy igniting all of your nerves, your nails digging into his skin and a choked moan as you took it all, straining against the brink of almost too much but not quite.

Utter perfection.

How did he know?

He didn’t.

Jungkook was a demon. And demons intuitively delivered the exact amount, instinctually sensing how the human body desired more, every brutal stroke a delicate balance of pain and pleasure, every rock of his hips matching yours, you involuntarily bouncing on his cock with his hard thighs in between your soft ones, cries bubbling from your throat. Every rush of stimulation potent, Jungkook panting intoxicatingly in your face and you drinking it up like a starved hyena, your hands clawing up, tangling in his hair, gripping the curved black horns on the sides of his beautiful head, staring into his enchanting eyes.

The demon smiled at you, almost lovingly, as he fucked you raw from below.

“That’s it…”

Rising from Jungkook’s left shoulder, four horns and glittering dark eyes.

A devious, open-mouthed smirk.

Your grip on Jungkook’s horns tightened, staring into this new, yet familiar gaze. A smokey whisper, rasp infesting your eardrums, reaching in to the humanity inside you. Your ice-silver irises reflected in the endless darkness of those ravenous orbs.

“Fuck him harder,” the Devil coaxed.

Sin.

“Yes,” you breathed.

Body automatically reacting, crashing your mouth into Jungkook’s, wild kiss punctuated by your hips smacking down hard onto his crotch, walls clenching around his stiff length, his moan and words filling your lungs.

“H-Hyung, fuck!”

You threw your weight onto him, slapping your hips together violently, repeatedly, biting his lower lip and sucking on it, pressing his body into the Devil, Jungkook’s nails digging into your shoulders and his cock swelling inside you. Pale hands coming up to grip Jungkook’s broad, tan shoulders, pink tongue sliding out and stroking the demon’s ear wetly, scorching breath on your fingers.

“Take it,” was the animalistic growl from those perfect pink lips, the low octave on an otherworldly level. “Cum in that pretty little pussy. Warm it up for me, Jungkookie.”

So hard, turning you so wet, greedy kisses and bites not enough, more, more, Jungkook groaning and powerfully thrusting up as you squelched down, splattering your juices all over his balls, pussy throbbing with the intensity of pleasure, staring into beautiful eyes and the hauntingly handsome angles of Jungkook’s face soaked with sweat on glistening tan skin, one of his hands grabbing your head and kissing you back with just as much fervor, filling you again and again, your name dancing on his lips.

“Yes, yes, fuck me, fuck me, you humans are so fucking good at serving us…”

“J-Jungkook, ah, f-fuck… I–”

“Give it to me, give it to me, delicious little pet,” he growled in your throat, harder, faster, rougher, racing to the edge and flying off.

A millisecond of euphoria.

You gasped out his name, saturated in mindless ecstasy.

“Jungkook.”

The Chaos swallowed you up, leaving you in nothingness once more.

-

Yoongi noticed it immediately.

He could feel it course through him, your orgasm explosive and mixing with Jungkook’s crescendo, invading the Devil’s senses and igniting throughout his body, feeding off of every throb of your pussy as Jungkook moaned and pumped you full of his hot cum, packing you with demon seed that your human body could do absolutely nothing with, soaking it into your abused walls, painting your sweetness with his heat.

Demons purely had sex with humans for the sake of pleasure. Nothing could come of it other than the obscenity in enjoying primal passion.

Fucking delightful.

Palpable and intense, Yoongi’s tongue slid out and tasted the air, his hands moving up and caressing Jungkook’s horns, making the younger demon shudder and squirm with pleasure, rutting into you more, squishing his thick cum around inside you, your eyelids fluttering and shivering gasps grasping your lungs.

But your eyes.

While you were fucking Jungkook, your eyes had turned that icy silver.

Now your irises were that reflective mirror.

The Devil felt it.

A pulse.

Jungkook’s naked body trembling against his, tantalizing moan implanted with lust incarnate, lost in the throes of passion, unable to get out until his orgasm was over. His voice sounded thin as if there was pressure in his ribcage.

Yoongi looked down at Jungkook’s heaving chest.

It was glowing.

He couldn’t stop it.

Spider-silk thin strands of ice-silver plunging inwards, needles of power forcing its way inside Jungkook’s chest cavity, all the way in. Yoongi was so close that he himself could feel it, the power of his domain letting him feel everything that happened within, from your passion to Jungkook’s desire, and now he could feel the needles pouring in, chipping away at the vibrant demon soul of Jeon Jungkook.

Collecting.

Jungkook whimpered, head falling against Yoongi’s shoulder, turning his head to kiss the Devil’s cheek.

“H… Hyung…”

The slim, black-red diamond extracted from Jungkook’s chest in glimmering lines of ice-silver, suspending it in the air, so spellbinding that even Yoongi could do nothing but watch in awe, the strings winding around the shard of demon soul and affixing it to your chest, the spot to the bottom left below the center. Six now, the filled semicircle underneath your pentagram tattoo, center empty.

The shadowy arms, covered with red eyeballs and tongues, rose.

Your eyes reopened, cracks of ice silver in those vacant irises.

Now, the Devil, Min Yoongi, understood.

What were demons cursed with?

Emotion and free will.

The Vessel was using the soul shards to stabilize the Disorder. The human body was too weak alone and those high above had nothing to give, for they gave away all they had to serve his father. That’s why you needed demon soul. Not just any demon soul, but the six most powerful ones, driven to finalize your collection with the most powerful of them all to contain what was within.

The Entropy.

The Chaos.

A slow, greedy grin graced his lips.

How interesting.

-

A tiny blip.

You had one piece of knowledge. Six.

In the nothingness, the only knowledge you possessed was the number six.

Six.

Six.

Six.

The resurfacing.

You gasped for air, lungs expanding forcefully, chest burning and heart racing, sensory overload, knowing only what you needed to know, the demon Jeon Jungkook in front of you once again, except this time he was leaning against the headboard, breathing hard, his tan shoulders crisscrossed in red from your nails, his two curved black horns luminous, arrogant smirk on his face.

You were on your hands and knees.

No.

Your arms were being held up by dark shadows of disembodied hands, eyes and tongues surrounding you, shoulders bowing a little from the strain, but not enough to be unbearable.

Jungkook licked his lips, slow, glossing them with wetness.

“Pretty pet,” he purred, gripping the leash and tugging on it, your breath dying in your throat, circulation cut off by the leather cutting into the sides of your neck. “Don’t waste any of it now, or you’ll anger him.”

Dancing fingers sliding up your hips, the space in between your legs achingly sore and full, but demanding more punishment, unable to look back to see, but already knowing who it was. You whimpered in your throat, shuddering at the light touch.

Jungkook quirked his eyebrows. “You’re right, little pet.” He yanked your body to his lap, jerking you forward unforgivingly, forcing you to stumble, the hands on your hips holding you up, your arms jostling in the grip of the shadows, their forked tongues swiping across your skin.

“That mouth needs something to fill it too, doesn’t it?” Jungkook drawled dangerously.

Your eyes widened, the scent of sex attacking your nose.

“Down,” he snarled.

You gasped, the grip on your neck lessening, Jungkook’s large hand fitting behind your head and forcing you to lower, your open mouth suddenly filled with his already rock-hard, cum-covered cock, yours and his, sex painting your tongue, swallowing his huge length in one gulp, tip engorging in the back of your throat, filling it to the brim of near-choking, but not quite.

Leaving you on the edge.

The edge of too much and not enough.

Perfection.

“I love to fuck,” Jungkook sighed above you, audibly savoring the feeling of your tight mouth around his length, your shaking eyes looking up at him. “And I’m the second best at it.”

He was.

You didn’t have to wonder. You just knew.

He leaned down, his thumb caressing your forehead. “Guess who is the best, pet?”

You yelped around his cock as forked tongues brushed against your flesh, shadows squeezing and kneading your beasts, latching onto your already hard nipples and stimulating them, pinching and tugging at the sensitive nubs. Jungkook’s naughty smirk was right in front of your face, his hardness twitching and pulsing in your mouth, those hands on your hips tightening, the velvety hard head of another cock skimming your cum-soaked folds, slicking with your juices.

Jungkook’s long fingers curled in your hair, gripping your scalp.

His voice a silvery, perilously low octave.

“The Devil.”

The familiar, raspy chuckle drenched in deviance.

“That’s right.”

Jungkook pulled out and roughly thrust in your face the same time the Devil slammed his cock into you, your eyes flying wide, Jungkook’s previous orgasm stuffed back into you by a different cock, slippery lewd squishes of too much thick liquid expanding your walls. Your pussy and mouth both clamped down on the two cocks, Jungkook’s swollen head ramming into the back of your throat, the Devil…

Holy shit, the Devil.

Whereas Jungkook’s cock responded to your body’s needs and kept it at the teetering maximum of lustful pleasure, the Devil had you suspended on his puppet strings, slow pace agonizingly teasing an orgasm out of you, fast pace tearing another out, rough pace amplifying yet another out, every one feeling like an eternity and leaving you craving more, the true meaning of insatiability, moans vibrating Jungkook’s throbbing length as your pussy convulsed from back-to-back orgasms. The surrounding shadows with bloodshot red eyes were watching you as forked tongues and shadowy hands caressed your trembling body all over, two mouths specifically latched on your nipples and one on your clit, rippling against the sensitive bundle of nerves, soaking it with saliva and sucking on it, all while Jungkook fucked your face relentlessly and the Devil drilled you from behind, grunts, groans, moans, mixed together, stifled by cock and accented by wicked slaps of flesh on flesh, all for the pure intent of only obtaining carnal pleasure and nothing else.

Unconstrained ecstasy, pure sin.

And you, suspended between torture and pain of overwhelmed senses.

“So fucking good…” Jungkook panted, black hair sweaty and sticking to his clenched jaw, dark brown eyes glinting with madness, thrusting wildly into your puffy mauve lips while harshly clutching your head, the shadows holding your body and taking the force of his movements off your neck so he could enjoy the delights of abusing your mouth without causing you pain, therefore allowing you to serve him as he pleased, keeping your throat tight for every punishing slide of his thick cock down the wet hole.

“You take me so well, little pet, almost like a demon, but human mouths are always better, so compliant and subservient. Demons are selfish, only looking out for their own pleasure, but your kind… Your kind is always begging to serve and be used.”

Jungkook caught his lower lip between his teeth, the mole underneath bouncing your vision with every plunge of his cock between your lips, large curved horns on the side of his head surrounded by long black curls, deliciously muscular torso right above you, tattoos on his right arm and shoulder flexing with his movements, the epitome of sex.

The entire time, the Devil’s cock was forcing you to new levels of pleasure you didn’t even know existed, blazing hot and intense, the ever-changing pace almost frustrating, but, somehow, he always knew what to do, speed up or slow down, harder or softer, the Devil’s trill sonata a complex and intricate mess being played, your pussy acting as the violin, coating his cock with Jungkook’s cum and yours, so much that it was spilling out and splashing onto your thighs, dripping down in sloppy squirts.

“You going to cum down that pretty throat?” the Devil drawled, his words resonating in his domain. “I want to watch you fill it up with your delicious cum so you can show me, Jungkookie.”

The young demon shuddered, intoxicated and driven by the command, his breathing swallowing, desires brimming to the surface, your name bubbling off his lips and your throat painfully sore but, oh, so good, so satisfying to be used like a toy, leather leash and collar on your neck jangling, inflamed clit pulsating as you came again with a feral moan around Jungkook’s stiff cock, pushing him over the edge with your suppressed cry, spilling into your throat with thick salty strings of his orgasm, shooting streaks all over the insides of your mouth.

“Don’t swallow,” he gritted out, jerking the last few spurts onto your tongue before removing his cock, smearing residual cum on your swollen lips. “Fuck, yes.”

He snarled and grabbed your chin, other hand on your chest to push you up, up, forcing you to arch your spine to an almost ridiculously painful level, the Devil’s pleased expression halfway in your vision.

“Open,” Jungkook growled.

You opened your cum-smeared lips, showing the Devil the thick white coating the insides of your pink tongue and abused throat, barely able to breathe, almost choking on Jungkook’s orgasm.

The Devil grinned.

“Swallow.”

You did in noisy, desperate gulps, sucking in sweet air, only for the circulation in your neck to be cut off as Jungkook hooked a finger on the collar ring and yanked it forward, his other hand and the shadows preventing your body or head from moving as he did so.

You could feel it, the Devil’s cock jolting, hitting you so deep and so satisfyingly that your eyes rolled back, vision spotting with black, completely and utterly consumed by the bodily pleasure of being forced to take exactly what you asked for.

Your name, so soft and sharp, driving deep into your pounding, rapid heartbeat, soaking your body with unholy touch, craving to be broken.

“Take it.”

The faintest of gasps, nerves a flaring wildfire as the Devil thrust his orgasm into you, euphoric in simply being pumped with his seed, the hold on your neck suddenly gone, air smashing into your lungs and the rush of oxygen making your lightheaded and dizzy, your body flinching as it attempted to drink it all up, shocks tearing through your system, forked tongues lapping up what was slipping out and another thicker, wetter tongue.

Jungkook on his belly, needy wanton moans in his chest, sucking the mixture of cum – you, himself, and the Devil pouring from between your joined crotches.

-

The ice-silver tendrils creeped from your chest, but shadowed hands forced them back.

Pain.

Yoongi could feel it in midst of the intense orgasm, the pain of his power being disintegrated, but he was no ordinary demon, he was the Devil, and no power, not even the Disorder, was going to take a shard of his soul without a fight.

No.

He pushed back against it, forcing his will upon the power unknown.

You will get your payment.

The pain subsided a little, layering with the shivering tremors of your pussy barely able to hold all that cum. Yoongi clenched his jaw, feeding on it all. He pulled out of you, his cock smacking Jungkook in the face, smearing the demon’s lips and cheeks with his still hard length, feeling the desperate tongue lap at him eagerly before he pulled away, hearing the explicit squelch as Jungkook’s mouth latched onto your pussy, devouring the cum from three beings trapped inside you.

Not until I’ve had a decent meal.

Your irises remained infested with ice-silver.

The Chaos, merely at bay, waiting for him.

-

Jungkook shoved his tongue into your sensitive hole, licking and suckling on your engorged clit as well as eating the delicious nectar, lustfully groaning at the taste of the Devil, you, and him, so flawless, a meal incomparable, his blood singing with joy.

No drop was to go to waste.

He would grovel at the Devil’s feet to have this taste forever.

-

Yoongi grabbed you by the hair and pushed you down, kneeling over Jungkook’s hips, letting the younger demon do whatever he wanted down there. He had more pressing matters.

He lowered himself, lifting Jungkook’s still-stiff cock, and dropped his dripping cock and balls on top the other, hissing in satisfaction as his hard length rubbed against Jungkook’s. Underneath you he heard a throaty, gleeful moan, your body shuddering as the sound went through you.

“Hand,” Yoongi commanded.

He grabbed your hand that his servants freed, wrapping it around the two cocks with his own long fingers, rocking his hips back and forth, too much fluid and too much slick making everything slippery, flickering tongues from the shadows adding to the mix, licking at the purple-red heads, adding saliva to the mix.

Your eyes were glued to this downright obscene display of indecent passion, mauve lips wetly parted, gasping with tremors of orgasm, two hands around two cocks and surrounded by shadows with tongues and eyes, Jungkook’s uncontrolled moaning stifled by your lush hips sitting on his beautiful face, his hips still humping your joined hands and smacking his balls into Yoongi’s, begging the Devil to let him cum and for Yoongi to cum all over his stomach as you came on his face.

The Devil chuckled.

He and you pumped together with Jungkook’s thrusting, his eyes roaming all over, drinking in the sight of his favorite demon and his new shiny toy.

No, not a toy.

His possession.

He lifted his free hand, cupping your chin forcefully, staring into your eyes.

Ice-silver, reflective glass, the original human shattered, so thoroughly intertwined and blended together with powers unknown that it was hard to tell what was what, impossible to know if they even could be separated, and Yoongi, the Devil himself, having no personal reason to bring you back from whatever you were now.

The greater good?

Heh.

The Devil cared not for such things.

“Cum for me,” he breathed hotly to your lips.

You blinked hard, gaze unfocused, the edge already in your sights, headed straight for it at an impossible speed. He watched as you tipped into free-fall, eyes rolling back, whining and moaning hoarsely as you came for the umpteenth time, soaking Jungkook’s face with your orgasm, the younger demon yelping and his cock jerking, spurting cum over his stomach with Yoongi’s mixing at the same time, the Devil sharply hissing as his cock violently shivered and pressed against your palm, shooting thick strings of white all over those sculpted abs.

Yoongi clenched his jaw, the ice-silver needles sprouting from your chest once more.

“Your… name…” you whispered, whole body trembling.

Yoongi exhaled hard, locking his glare with your fucked-out expression. The power pierced him, a bizarre feeling of euphoria and excruciating prickling, pressure unbearable, the threads of the Chaos stumbling through the massive collection of souls within him. Skittering, frantically searching.

Pain.

But not from him.

From you.

Your shaking hand rose, your voice thinning out, anguish coating your features.

It was killing you the longer he hesitated in giving you a name.

The Devil could give you any name of the souls within him. The lesser ones, the insignificant ones, the pathetic ones. The contract did not specify. That was his loophole. The ice-silver threads were tearing you up from the inside, pouring more and more into him with every second that he waited. Your fingers brushed against his cheek.

“H…”

Something shimmering in those eyes.

“He… help… me…”

The power within the Vessel a vehement storm, sadistically demanding the contract to be sealed. You were going to die if he withheld a name from you. The Devil reached up and touched your hand, holding it against his cheek.

He smiled softly.

Yoongi would not let his precious new possession die so quickly.

“Hold on,” he rasped.

The Devil pushed back.

He forced it out, taking the pain and using it to fuel his power, pushing it back, back into you, your airless shrieks trapped in your chest as the six black-red soul-shards gleamed, radiating heat.

Helping him.

Even now his six closest confidants were helping him, their small bits of demon soul rushing to his aid, collapsing onto the power of the Disorder, forcing it back, buying him more time.

Yoongi chuckled.

Guess they really were his friends.

-

Whatever pain you felt became a distant memory the second the Devil lifted your hips from Jungkook’s face, arms wrapping around your body, his knees sliding up a little to hover your two bodies right above the cum puddle on Jungkook’s stomach. The demon beneath you panted, fucked-out, still shuddering with aftershocks of orgasm.

You held his face, looking deep into dark brown eyes full of the knowledge of every sin known to mankind. His lips curved into a sly, open-mouthed smirk.

“You’ve been so good,” he drawled. “Such a resilient little thing.”

Everything was sore, throbbing, muscles burning with exertion, and yet you still wanted more, caressing the cheeks of the Devil with your fingers, leaning against his body for support.

“After this, I think we should be a little closer, don’t you?”

Your body was lowering, abused pussy meeting his hard cock once more.

The Devil wasn’t done until he was done.

And those shadows of arms ending with claw-like fingers, covered in eyeballs and mouths? Always willing to lend a hand, encircling around your bodies, holding up your weak human body so the Devil could fuck you.

“Let’s be together for all eternity, you and I.”

You whimpered as you sank down again, so wet and slick that he slipped in easily, hardness swelling against your trembling walls.

“A contract?” you croaked, barely able to speak at this point.

“No, my pet,” the Devil lured, drawing you into him as he rocked his hips, lowering the two of you on the mess of cum on Jungkook’s abdomen, smearing your thighs in it, sticky and strong-smelling, Jungkook losing it under you, scooping up the demon seed to coat his fingers and palms. “Not a contract. Just a promise. Dedication.”

Now Jungkook’s hands were covered in the Devil’s cum and his own.

He began to spank your ass with every rough thrust of the Devil’s cock burying in your velvety folds, adding stings of pain to the devastating pleasure.

“You have dedication, don’t you?”

Dedication?

Slap! Thrust. Slap! Thrust. Slap!

The Devil leaned forward, raspy laugh deep in his chest.

A trickster’s kiss capturing your swollen lips.

“Faith, if you will.”

Your body instinctively bucking back into the Devil’s cock, Jungkook hitting you repeatedly, cum caked to your ass and thighs, pussy spasming and drenching the impossibly hard and thick cock inside you, taking it all with fierce enthusiasm, now throatily moaning to the bruising pace, ensnared in his words. Fucking you, punishing you, freeing you, violent hard thrusts, smacks on hips on hips and hands on hips, flesh singing with feral pleasure, Jungkook’s nails tearing at your skin and leaving red scratches with his stinging, cum-stained palm prints.

The Devil’s hand closed around the collar around your neck and you felt the leather melting away, disappearing, joining the mass of shadows around you. The black spidery arms flared out, circling around the Devil’s head like black fire, surrounding his four hours as his fingers gripped your neck, his left hand splayed on your back as he choked you.

The shadows opened.

Red eyes with black slitted pupils, watching everything.

Slashed mouths with black lips and forked red tongues, grinning.

They closed in, wrapping around your joined bodies, long predatory fingers tangling in your hair, hands clutching on your breasts, pointed nails clawing at your thighs and leaving red scratches, the Devil’s hot breath in your face as he smirked, wide and open-mouthed, canine teeth glinting ominously, driving his punishing girth into you as Hell’s shadows pushed you back down, Jungkook’s nails digging into your ass and his lustful, throaty moans ringing in your ears as he relished in the feeling of the Devil fucking you on top of him.

Your head clouding, circulation thinning as the pleasure thickened, rising to an impossible crescendo on a scale no longer known to man, consumed by lust and shadows, covered in cum, vision blurring, sound intensifying as one of your senses faded.

All Hell breaking loose.

“Do you have faith in the Devil, human?”

You scarcely managed to croak out an answer.

“Yes.”

A millisecond of euphoria.

A growl so deep it seemed to reign and command all souls within his presence.

“I am the Devil, and my name is Min Yoongi.”

-

Yoongi let it happen.

He set his jaw and shot into you, once more cramming you full of his cum, the pleasure of your orgasm amplifying his own, savoring the addictive high as the ice-silver filaments crowned from that center point on your chest, eagerly darting forward and plunging into his.

For a moment, he felt nothing.

He looked into your eyes.

You reflected ecstasy.

Then he felt an overwhelming pressure, sedation, and a crushing weight mixed with high-voltage passion, shattering through him, the unknown power pinpointing exactly what it needed and knocking on the door of the current soul embodying the Devil.

He was already waiting patiently.

The tendrils of ice-silver became your hands, cupping together, begging.

“Here.”

He ripped it himself, breaking off the thin diamond-like shard of black-red, a piece of his soul that he handed to the waiting hands, knowing he was forever bound to you, forever drawn to you, the Vessel, the Entropy, the Chaos.

His now.

“And this.”

He pressed a little something into it.

“It’s yours.”

The ice-silver snatched his soul-shard and vanished.

-

The darkness closed in, leaving you trapped in nothingness once more. The Chaos received what it needed. There was no need for your consciousness any longer, for the Vessel was complete. The nothingness just was and you were in it.

Silence.

Complete and utter silence.

Then.

A pulse.

-

You opened your eyes.

Everything hurt.

Everything was sticky, covered in cum.

Everything was scattered everywhere, bedsheets and clothes shredded, shadowy arms swaying this way and that, no longer covered in strange eyeballs and mouths, simply all-black and waiting for command.

Why?

You felt something soft tucked into your arms.

Your eyes lowered, seeing the black goat-man plush cradled in the crook of your less cum-coated arm. A pale hand took yours and placed your fingers on the leather hoof. You stroked it, almost innocently.

“Would you like to come with me?” said the deep, raspy voice.

Your eyes flickered to your chest. Six black-red demon soul-shards surrounding a bigger, more lustrous, and sinister-looking one. It sparkled red and purple. Something was trapped inside it, glowing violet from within. It seemed to pulse, slowly, following a unique rhythm.

You looked up.

Into Min Yoongi’s dark, dark eyes.

You felt a strong grip on your shoulders from behind, matched by a teasing chuckle as a playful chin resting against your shoulder. Your eyes flickered to your right, seeing the hand tattoos on that hand, feeling the hardness of the body of Jeon Jungkook behind you. He held you to him, tracing the curve of your neck.

Yoongi held his hand out, smirk on his lips.

You took it, affirming your desire to follow, even if it meant going to the depths of Hell itself.

“What did you do?” you breathed.

The Devil shrugged.

The domain around you was collapsing, but not melting away. Instead, it seemed to cave inward, bowing from strain, surrounding you, Yoongi, and Jungkook, swallowing the three bodies and the goat-man plush in your arms. Yoongi drew close to you, lips on your lips, half-lidded eyes smoked with arousal.

“I gave you a small shred of my heart, pet.”

The fist-sized muscle pounded in your chest as the surface disappeared and the Devil dragged you down to Hell with his right-hand demon.

“Now you have emotion and free will.”

Yoongi pressed his lips to yours, kissing you deeply as the world around you turned into everlasting flames.

-

666 You never know what is enough unless you know what is more than enough.

--

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