#but now he's taking the place of minion

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

[Ghost crashed into a car before he parked ours] - Mafia!TF141*F!Reader

Summary: You sigh when it's the fifth time someone fights in your poor tea shop this month. You just open it two months ago, in an area ruled by mafia called '141'. Maybe you should find their boss and give them money or what to stop the bullshit keeps happening in your shop. (well, here they come)

Mafia!TF141*F!Reader

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

To your surprise, Kyle, or Gaz – the model-like man introduced himself as – is such a considerate person with a nice sense of humor, at least compared to Soap or Ghost. 

That day you trapped yourself in the predicament with John, he seemed to sense your embarrassment, hence he just handed his boss a backup shirt without making fun of you like his boss, so you have a lot of time for the man. 

Like now, he’s sitting and sharing a plate of biscuits with you, enjoying a tranquil tea time accompanied by the pleasant smell of Earl Grey.

“You don’t have jobs to do today?” You raise your cup and ask, before taking another sip and watch Kyle finish his bite and reply.

 “Ghost’s in charge of dealing with the enemy today.” 

“Ehmm, okay” You refuse to figure out what ‘dealing’ means “What about others?"

"I killed mine yesterday.” 

Okay, you truly don’t mean this, but let’s just end this topic and move on. With a few biscuits down to your stomach, brainwashing yourself to forget what you heard seconds before with the sweetness, and buying you some time to come up with a better subject, you open your mouth again.

“Every time one of you comes here, you just scare all my customers away.”

“Isn’t that better?” 

“I need customers to earn money, Kyle.”

“You have us to pay you.” He points at the badge pasted on your wall. Of course, you’re not the one who put it on, you rather read the military smut out in front of all British than do it, but if you try to take it off, Soap will put a new one back, so in the end you just compromised and let him claim your shop publicly.

“This place isn’t only served for you guys.”

“It isn’t?” 

Is it possible to refute when Kyle flashes you a smile that you almost get blind and start wondering if he can replace himself as your lights and save you the electricity bill? Maybe counting this as one of Kyle’s humor will be better than explaining. All required is to ignore the evil glints in his majestic brown eyes while he questions you.

But even though Kyle said he doesn’t have work today, he doesn’t stay long after he finishes his tea.

“Gotta head back to help the boss.” He grins as he turns the knob and waves you goodbye.

What’s weird is that   after Kyle leaves your shop, customers start flooding back. Many of them are familiars of the shop, as you’re sure they’re 141’s lackeys too.

You remember them see you as one of the henchmen… Although they're not as afraid as when they first visit the shop because of your hospitable attitude, you can still sense the attentiveness in their demeanor.

No matter what, you’re going to figure out what’s  actually  happening.

“Hey, you.” You walk to one of the minions' sides. “Mind to tell me about why you guys always disappear when Gaz or Ghost or others come here?”

“We…” The guy’s eyes avert, shooting his friend a glance for help “It’s just a coincidence.”

“Coincidence?” Raising your eyebrow, you lower your voice to make it  menacing 

“It  really  is, ma’am, nothing to bother with the Sirs.”

“Show me, they must have sent some messages to inform you guys, right? Let me take a look, or I will…” You will what?  Actually,  you have no idea what you can do to these guys that can lift you  up  and throw you into a trash bin like a shot “Wait a second.”

Quickly running back to your kitchen, you come back with your most intimidating weapon – 

“Or I will hit you with my pan!” You wiggle your arm as a threat.

“…” 

They don’t look scared of the pan for a tiny bit. Wait, you should take your kitchen knife instead, who the fuck will pick a pan? You idiot.

yet to your satisfaction, they still fish out their phone and let you have it, and you don’t waste any time as you open the texting app.

‘Announcement: Boss will arrive at the tea shop in 10 minutes, clear the shop immediately.’

So they  really  are scaring your customers off. Give the phone back to the poor guy with pity in your eyes, you bring him a few more biscuits.

You’re strolling through the aisles in the shop. You’re out of flour and sugar, and every Wednesday the groceries are on sale. You never miss these chances to build up savings.

What a nice shopping trip. Quiet, leisure, just enjoying your own time, picking up different brands of cereal and calculating which is cheaper like a competent broken adult. Things never go wrong when you’re alone.

“Hey lass!”

Well, you’re kidding, things go south too quickly. The voice’s too familiar. It must be a hallucination.

“Lass? Bonnie?”

 Don’t look back, keep walking. It’s not the detergent man with a stupid chicken crest yelling at you.

“HEY!” A hand pats you on your shoulder and makes you jump. Sighing internally and prey there won’t be any trouble caused by the man, you turn around and face him.

“Oh, Soap, Hi.” Shit, looks like you just can’t have a break from these men. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Even though the nan outside tells me te shut the fok up?”

“Yes.” you shamelessly admit, pro tip to confront people without shame “Why are you here by the way, Soap?”

“Oh, we’re in need of some things, so Ghost pulled off during our way home.”

You take a glimpse at his basket. A rope, a roll of duct tape, and a knife. 

They must be going on a picnic. Yes, don’t overthink. The rope is for securing the tent, the duct tape is for concealing the holes on it. Knife? they surely will need it when cutting apples.

The image of Ghost slaughtering… peeling apple you mean, with Soap and Gaz playing red light green light and John napping in the tent is so vivid in your mind that you need to restrain the laugh with a clear of your throat before you grunt in affirmation and restart your steps.

With Soap depriving you of your last respite, you choose to grab what you need and head to the counter. All you want is to get home, have a nice shower, and lie on the bed reading the new fic you found last night.

“Do ye need help?” He watches you shove the products in your bag, but 5 huge cartons of milk are too heavy for your weak limbs, you can feel your arms trembling under your attempt.

“It’s okay, my car’s near the door. I can carry this myself.” Again, cheekiness works every time. You don’t care about strangers staring at you struggling with the bag and exit the supermarket in a crab way, as long as it can bring you back into peace faster, and you almost tear up when you see your car, the white of it is like the lighthouse in the atramentous night.

Hey, but you don’t remember your car has a goddamn huge dent at its boot.

“Oh yeah, forgot to tell ye. Ghost crashed into a car before he parked ours, and he’s contemplating whether he should kidnap the driver when they come back and make them shut up, or just kill them.” Soap looks at you stopping in despair as he recognizes what you’re looking at. “So it’s your car aye?”

You don’t answer him, you just watch Ghost materialize from the Shadow beside your car and give you a nod.

Fuck your life.

a/n: ty for reading :D have a nice day/night!

Car -1, Peaceful night -1

tag list :D - @blackhawkfanatic @nexthyperfix @danielle143 @goodbyegh0st @reaperxxxxzz @kaoyamamegami @imyprice @cod-z @poppingaround @live-for-fluff @masterstr0ke @mall0ww

[phantomrose96]

Sham Sacrifice: Chapter 2

(Sham Sacrifice: Chapter 1)

Chapter 2, because @ciestess voiced an idea that absolutely consumed my entire mind and I could not rest until I made this

...

Danny’s eyes tracked the swing of gunfire raining bullets across the horizon. Tucker reloaded, crouched, dodged left and pivoted, another blast of bullet confetti launched through a gaggle of zombie heads. He tossed the magazine and reloaded. Click. Ching. Danny flinched when a zombie smashed a hammer clean through Tucker’s head.

 “God. Fucking…” Tucker pulled out of his hunch. He unclamped his fingers from his controller like bug legs unfurling. He extended the controller to Danny, bouncing it in his grip. “Your turn.”

“Huh?” Danny asked, as if he hadn’t been watching Tucker’s game the whole time.

“You. You’re up. I died.”

Danny accepted the controller, reloaded the screen, and jogged about a hundred feet forward before the first horde of zombies took him out football-style from the left. The death screen rolled.

“Oops,” Danny said.

“Not your best work.” And Tucker took the controller back. Tucker shot a few spare glances to Danny while the level restart loaded in. “Is it Vlad?”

“No. Well, yes,” Danny answered, flopping back into his normal position on the Foley attic armchair. Tucker’s mom had planned to toss it ages ago, before it became Danny’s chair. “But at least he left when my parents went all zombie mode into the basement.” Danny picked absently at the scabs of leather flaking from the armrest. “It was just weird.”

“I don’t mean this as an insult, but it’s definitely not the first time your dad’s gotten some math wrong,” Tucker said. “He blows up like three things a week doesn’t he?”

“He does. But he doesn’t care when he gets that math wrong. This one was like I broke something important.” Danny’s expression soured, and he picked a leather flake clean off the chair. “Vlad did, I mean.”

“Does any of the math actually work?” Sam offered from Tucker’s desk. She leaned an elbow around the back of his chair, head tilted to Danny. A pencil dangled from her loose fingers, nib-half worn to the History of an Invention report she was actually working on. Tucker had half-assed his earlier in the day about the palm pilot. Danny had not done his. “Like, it’s all crackpot theory, right? Do ghosts even follow math?”

“I think they follow some math. It’s not magic that makes the ecto-bazookas work, or the Fenton-phones work, or—well the thermos DIDN’T work—until I made it work.”

The unspoken thing Danny had been not-quite-saying hung in the air. He said it this time.

“So I’m wondering if I did it. Like the Fenton thermos. And now maybe they’re gonna do the math all over and realize the missing piece of the equation is one half-ghost son.”

“Well the order is backwards, for starters,” Sam said. “Thermos worked because you pumped ghost-energy into it. How would you have done that to the portal? You were human when you walked in.”

“Sam’s right. What do you think you brought to the table exactly? Button-slapping abilities?” Tucker loaded up the next level. “It was their portal, and their math, and it worked. There’s a million-billion kinds of math and they probably just forgot one thing.”

Tucker took a headshot and died. Mechanically, he handed the controller back to Danny.

“Yeah, probably.”

“Ask Vlad. He’s got a portal.”

“Like Vlad’s gonna tell me.”

“Just promise to be his diligent little son minion or whatever. He’s easy. Wait, let me do the next level. You know I like the cyberpunk levels.”

“It’s not your turn,” Danny said, reeling the controller just out of Tucker’s wiggling grasp.

“I’ll let you do two in a row for your next turn.”

Danny knocked Tucker away, distracted just long enough for a zombie cyberbeam to launch from the horizon and take him out through the head.

The screen washed sepia. Danny stared at it. You died.

…

Danny hadn’t really meant to stay the night at Tucker’s place. They’d just gotten really far in Man vs. Zombie, and Sam had gone home, and Danny was just resting his eyes between his turns with the controller.

So when he woke to the bright strip of sunlight beaming into his eyes through the attic skylight, his first thought was Fuck.

He was awake, here, morning, school. Fuck he had not actually done his History of Invention report, despite the stupid amount of grief it had already caused him this weekend. He pulled his face out of the armrest, now pineapple-patterned from the decaying leather, and pawed for his phone fallen on the floor. If it was still early enough, he could maybe still afford to desperately half-ass something before sixth period science.

He flipped his phone open. A text from Jazz. “Don’t come home. Make up an excuse.”

“…Fuck,” Danny whispered, through the sensation of his heart launching itself into his throat.

He scrambled upright, whole body shaking at the mercy of adrenaline shock so soon after being pulled from dead sleep. His mouth was dry, teeth unbrushed, wearing his old clothes from yesterday, report not done, Don’t come home, Don’t come home, Don’t come home.

They knew. He’d fucked it up. Somehow they knew. The math. Something. And it had to be with guns blazing, because Jazz would not send that text if they’d taken the “We accept you” angle.

Were they coming for him? On their way here? Tracking by his phone? Did they like Mrs. Foley enough to not SWAT-slam her against the wall when she opened the door for them so they could come capture the ghost pretending to be their son?

Fuck.

Danny was upright. Danny was standing. Danny was shaking. Danny wasn’t actually sure what the next thing was he was supposed to do.

Tucker’s ball of blankets rustled from the couch. “Mmph?” he asked, articulately.

“I have to. Go deal with my parents, I think,” Danny said, because any plan felt a little better than no plan. “I think they know.”  

Danny was a ghost. Danny was gone. Tucker sat upright, alone, blinking himself awake. He was staring at the You Died sepia screen still displayed on monitor, now burnt into the plasma of the tv.

…

Danny paused with his human hand slick on the Fenton front door. The gears in his mind turned as his plan quickly unraveled into no-plan. He had no plan, right? What was his plan? Handle this Man vs Zombie style—open the front door ready to dodge wide, because both zombies and parents liked to camp behind closed doors with bazookas at the ready?

“—absolutely absurd, and entirely unscientific, with no probability of being true. It goes against everything we know about neurology.”

Oh, Jazz. Was Jazz enough of a bazooka-deterrent? Probably not. Knowing his parents.

Danny turned the knob. His heart hammered. If bazookas, dodge left.

The first thing he noticed was in fact the no-bazookas. It was what he was most looking for. And so it was Jazz’s expression he did not notice until second—whites of her eyes wide, snapped to Danny, with a look that would be accusatory if worry hadn’t won that battle. Her cheeks were pale. Her hair was unbrushed.

He noticed his parents third. Compulsively, he rocked back onto his right foot, still outside the doorway, still outside the threshold of the Fenton family household.

Seeing his parents tired was of absolutely no shock-value to Danny. It was at least a twice-per-month tradition to see them haul themselves up from the basement sweaty and glaze-eyed at 7am, babbling excitement about some new ecto-spectral-hoozy-whatsits whose concept had shimmed into their minds at 8pm and now existed, fully operational, 11 nonstop hours later.

So it wasn’t the exhaustion on their face. It wasn’t the stagnant smell of sweat or the paleness of their faces or the stains on their clothes.

It was the way they looked at him. Like their whole world had fallen apart with his foot passing over the doorstep.

“Danny,” Jazz said, choked, a break in the silence. “Things are…! A little weird here. So maybe, if you wanna just get to school, I’ll finish clearing up—there’s a misunderstanding Mom and Dad have with their math. I am state finalist in Math League and have been studying college-level calculus in preparation for school applications so I’ve offered to help them fix their math, or prove to them—”

“Danny,” Maddie said, an echo of Jazz, but it felt worse. Danny scanned her hands for anything pointed enough to be a weapon. They were empty. “Danny can I just ask you something honestly, just quickly? Jazz is right. I’m just trying to clear up an issue with our math. And I won’t be mad. Whatever the answer is, I won’t be mad. I just want an honest answer.”

She stepped closer. Danny fought the urge to match her with a step backwards. Her eyes roved over him in a starved way, looking for something.

“Were you there when the portal turned on?” she asked.

“No, I wasn’t,” Danny answered. He wasn’t sure what to do with his face to make it look convincing. “It just. It needed some time to boot up, or something, right? That’s what you two said.”

“That was our guess ,but we don’t really know. The security tapes are wiped. We tried to make them EMF-resilient but a very, very strong blast of EMF could still corrupt them.”

“Yeah. I mean the portal’s gonna do that, right? When it turned on? Ripping open the Ghost Zone that’s—gotta be huge EMF.” Danny’s focus bounced between his mother’s eyes. “Just a guess. I really don’t know. I was in bed, already, whenever the portal started working.”

Left eye. Right eye. Why was she looking at him like that? Like she was sad. Was this part a trick? Make Danny let his guard down, go hey Mom need a hug? and that’s when the bazooka-whipping starts? It made his ribs feel scratchy. Stop looking at me like that.

“Have you felt anything weird at all, since the portal started working? Any gaps in your memory? Any parts of you that don’t feel right? Is there any part of you that feels like it’s changed in a way you can’t explain?”

She reached a hand out. Danny instinctively recoiled.

“Uh, yeah. They taught us about this in health class. They call it ‘puberty’ there.”

“Danny,” Jack said, and his voice was scratchy from disuse, from a long and uncharacteristic amount of time spent not speaking. “Did you die in the machine?”

A beat. A moment. Like when the zombie sends a hammer through your head.

“I’M alive!” Danny declared with a crack in his voice, with hands slammed to his chest. “Look at me. What are you talking about?”

“It’s the only math that works,” Jack continued, his words like chalk, his voice too dead. He looked too much at Danny. “If one of you two walked into the portal, and died in it. And I don’t think it was Jazz.”

This was bad. This was weird. Danny had ghost powers, sure. ‘They can’t kill me I’m already dead,’ was a funny joke sometimes. But it was funny as a joke. He was a ghost sham, really. A faker, a LARPer, whatever Tucker had called it. He was a human who was just kind of a freak now. More of a freak than he already was. He looked dead, for someone who was super-duper still alive.

He’d buried that worry, already. They weren’t allowed to bring it back.

“Look… at me!” Danny continued, mouth dry. He threw his arms wide. “Look how super alive I am! I’m awake! Using energy! Eating food and sleeping with my human body. I’ve got flesh and blood and bones and stuff! I’m not a ghost-expert but ghosts don’t have that.”

This was weird. This made Danny feel like something was scratching to get free from inside his rib cage. It twisted his entrails. Sure Tucker and Sam had thought he was dead, for those first horrible few minutes, but then he changed back to a human and the nightmare ended there. Jazz never called him dead. The ghosts called him freak and halfa and whelp, but never ‘one of them.’ That was his whole thing: being different from the ghosts who became ghosts by something so normal as dying.

He was not dead.

“If you died in the portal, your ghost wouldn’t have been ripped out of your body. It would have been allowed to stay, and then you’d be…” Jack hesitated. “I don’t know what you’d be, but you wouldn’t be alive.”

“Dad,” Jazz said, and she stood herself bodily between Danny and Jack. “What an absolutely messed up out-of-line thing to say to your son! You don’t know that! Dad you’re tired, and just because you weren’t able to solve your math problem in one night doesn’t mean you get to treat Danny like this! I said I’d help you with your math! Now apologize to Danny.”

Jazz looked over her shoulder to Danny, her expression falling at the sight of Danny’s face.

Danny backed up over the door threshold. He shook his head. “I’m not comfortable with this. This is weird. I’m gonna go to school now.”

“Danny, I promise they’re just—”

Danny turned on heel. No backpack, no change of clothes. He took to the street without a single school supply and moved, and moved.

It was supposed to be guns-blazing. Molecule by molecule. Headshot you died. He’d prepared for that this whole time, in the shower, in his dreams, in his daydreams in class. He’d duck and dodge and explain himself over and over until they understood him.

Danny wasn’t sure he was capable of explaining himself anymore.

…

Danny knocked the heavy iron knocker. He was in ghost form, as a threat. He wondered if he still smelled like yesterday’s sweat now that he wasn’t wearing yesterday’s clothes. Now he was wearing the clothes he died in.

No one answered the door. Danny phased himself in.

“Vlad!” he called, and his words echoed along the slope of the two elaborate winding staircases that twirled and met at the top like caduceus. Gold-plated banisters. A security camera buried somewhere in the ceiling, no doubt.

Danny phased into the library. His eyes roved the three stories of bookshelves wrapping the perimeter like a sheath. Gaudy. Audacious. Like Vlad would ever read that much. Danny racked his brain because some something in here was the secret to opening Vlad’s laboratory. Jazz had told him. Some gold something to be touched, and pressed down, or pushed up? Or it opened to a button. Or a keypad, maybe.

Danny spat a curse. He was being stupid. He was frazzled. He wasn’t thinking straight.

He dove into the floor below. Intangibility was the only key he needed.

The sheetrock was cold, even when he wasn’t touching it. The darkness was so piercing it made static jump in his vision, some weird trick of the brain Jazz had explained where, in the absence of all light, the brain hallucinates its own. It came with a sensation of pressure against his eyeballs, and a complete disorientation of direction, and he simply just kept going down.

Danny emerged into a wash of cold air. Cold like metal was cold. The low lights of dials and clicking machines were bright to his eyes previously dunked into the pitchest nothing. He drank it in, eyes grateful for light no matter how little, inner ear grateful for orientation that had left his head swimming and his stomach tight.

His feet tapped down to the stone ground, and the air that breezed past him was chilled.

“Vlad!” Danny called again.

Nothing.

He moved by the floor lighting, which ran in trim along the perimeter of the laboratory rooms. It lit things from beneath, made machines gaunt and specimens into sharp geometries of darkness and flesh. It made the Fenton lab feel warm in a way Danny had never considered it warm.

His feet clacked. His breath puffed.

“Vlad!”

He followed light, followed a wash of green miasma percolating from some far room and catching on the particulate of water and dust that disturbed with the air currents. Danny disturbed it too, walking through, wearing its shade of green which his shadow robbed from the wall behind him.

“Vlad. I swear to god Vlad.”

He crossed the threshold of the portal room, where the dusting of green ambience became a medallion wash of golden-green coating, painting every surface of the room. The Fenton lab was one single expansive room, portal anchored into the far wall and facing all the dead and empty air in front of it. This was different. A much smaller room, walled on all sides save for the simple doorway, and each surface reflected the color back deeper and heavier. It was like a fishtank in the wall of an aquarium lit radiant aqua-blue by all the lights within, but green instead, pure ecto-green.

Danny approached the open portal. He stared into its placid swirls, mesmerized, and scared of it, in a way he hadn’t previously felt about the portal in the Fenton basement.

“Ah, seems the cat is a good mouser after all, it dragged you in my boy.” The words came sing-song. They came spine-shivering for Danny, who felt them like hot breath on his shoulder and reeled back, pivoted, fire crackling to life in his palms.

Vlad stood at the doorway, a solid 20 steps from Danny.

“Vlad.”

“So I’ve been hearing.”

“I need you to explain the portal.”

“Ah, I see you’ve spoken to your parents.” Vlad stepped in, washed in the ecto-green which muddied his ruby red eyes. He held his hands behind his back, cape trailing, a smirk on his fanged face. “Last I heard they weren’t taking the news very well.”

“What news. What did you tell them?”

“Me? Nothing. In fact, very kindly for your sake I even tried to drive them away from the answer but… We know how stubborn your parents can be.”

“What answer?”

“That you’re dead, Daniel.”

Shock washed like ice down Danny’s spine. It sent prickles like spider legs across his skin.

“Well, I suppose there’s still chance for some doubt. It could be Jazz. She could take the fall for you, if there’s any benefit to that at all.”

“I’m a halfa. We are halfas,” Danny said.

“A silly made up word by a silly child,” Vlad mused, and the light smile left his lips. “We are dead.”

“I’m not dead,” and Danny’s words were small, and they were childish.

“You are. I am. Embrace it. It’s nicer this way.” Vlad took a few steps closer, lionously tall in his saunter, feet clacking the ground. “It’s very freeing. After you’ve died already what is there left to fear?”

“I’m alive.”

“You’re a dead body with its soul still stuffed inside it like a Christmas goose. A lot of things in your body don’t work anymore, but ghosts don’t work right anyway and it is, for all its defiance of nature, a perfectly symbiotic relationship.” Vlad’s smile brushed his lips again, warm. “It’s nice to share this with you. Isn’t it nice to share things with people?”

Danny’s heart was beating too fast in his chest, and it was a human heart, a human beat. “I’m not dead,” he declared.

“Your wounds heal quickly because the ghost piloting you only needs to remember form. It stacks cells back into place and calls it good. You’ll endure fatal injuries as you no doubt have many times in your fights, but they’re trivial because physical trauma is not what kills a ghost. It’s what creates one. You’ll necrotize in places but it’s okay, because you’ll carry on, and it will bother you only if you let it bother you, if you’re too sentimental about the puppet you’re still inside.” Vlad closed in closer, neck craning to appraise Danny. “Ghosts love a facsimile of life so you will keep your heart pumping, your lungs breathing. You’ll eat and you’ll sleep but you’ll find you won’t perish if you don’t. It just won’t be a good time if you want to keep occupying your flesh form. Take better care of it. You won’t get another.”

“You’re psychotic. And you’re wrong.”

“I have all the math to prove it.” Vlad leered from over Danny’s shoulder. He circled the boy, knocking Danny’s balance, who still on a hair trigger stood ready to fight. The light from the ghost portal painted Vlad’s face like the phases of the moon as he moved. “Did your parents explain that part to you properly?”

“No, because they didn’t get the math right.”

“Oh they’ve gotten it right. This time. It only took them two decades longer than it took me.” The portal rolled like static, and its fizzling pattern crashed like an ocean wave across Vlad’s cape. “No amount of man-made power is sufficient to drag the entire fabric of the Ghost Zone up against our own, tear a hole through it, and anchor it to a stable frame. It requires something with a pull on the Ghost Zone, a strong pull, and that thing is a human life at the moment of an extraordinarily violent death.”

Danny backed a step away from the portal, from Vlad, but the walls boxed him in. He swam in its green light.

“You stepped in and you turned the portal on, that’s what you thought, right, Daniel? Pressed a careless button on the inside and now here we are. Silly parents for not finding that button first.” Vlad’s face hardened. “No. Jack and Maddie knew about the button. Maddie explained it to me over the phone. What engineer designing and building their own portal would forget the location of the on button? They’d pressed it from the outside. It didn’t work. And so you pressing the button was not the important part. It was you dying to the electrocution that clicked everything right into place. And while your ghost should have been torn from your lifeless corpse and pulled to the Ghost Zone you instead pulled the Ghost Zone here. Your ghost got to stay put. You opened the portal. You became the undead freak you are. And now we’re here.”

Danny’s eyes bounced between Vlad’s. His cheeks felt hot, like he was enduring an accusation of wrongdoing. And he had none of the knowledge to refute what was being said.

“You’re messing with me. You’re wrong,” Danny shot back. He thrust an arm out, drenched in the fog of the portal. “If the portal needs a person to die in it then explain your portal! Are you so casual about it? You killed someone? You’re admitting to murder and you think I won’t do anything about it?”

Anger flashed like a storm across Vlad’s face. His aura swelled, pressing down with a pressure on Danny as Vlad halted and cast his shadow clear across Danny, coating the back wall. “The killing of other people with the wanton carelessness of half-baked machines is the domain of Jack and Jack alone. I’ve brought no such harm onto anyone else.”

“Then how do you have this portal?”

“This portal? This portal that I’ve had for 20 years? Which I opened when I solved the piece of Jack’s broken math that he was never able to solve until this morning?” Vlad stalked closer, hunched, imposing. Danny stepped back. “My boy Daniel you’ve had it so easy. You had it so simple. A truly clean break. So clean so lucky. A single lethal dose of electricity and it was already over. I’m jealous. You never even suffered.”

Vlad stepped closer, striking distance, arm extended. Danny flinched, but Vlad only swept his cape around, clenched in his fist, and pivoted to approach the portal.

“Put out of your misery before it even started.” Vlad slammed his fist against the portal rim, and the explosive metallic clang bounced through the rooms. His laugh belted out. “I should have been so lucky.”

19. Vlad Masters was 19. A sophomore in college. A man actively in the midst of sabotaging his social life to chase a woman who was already deeply in love with Vlad’s best friend who he hated more every day. He wasn’t sure what he ever enjoyed about Jack’s bumbling ineptitude, or his loudness, his brashness, his poor social skills, his bad breath, his mullet. Maybe Vlad had gravitated to Jack because deep down he loved how superior it made him feel to surround himself with the likes of Jack Fenton… And now, he hated how enraged it made him to watch Maddie’s eyes skip past his to focus on Jack Fucking Fenton again and again and again and again.

But surely there was hope still. Surely it was a matter of time before the rose-tinted glasses fell away and Maddie saw bumbling and inept and every such word in the basket when she looked at Jack. There’d come the day she tested the waters with Vlad to complain about one of Jack’s little quirks, and they’d find solace together in all the things Vlad was that Jack wasn’t, and all the things Vlad had that Jack didn’t. And he’d be gone, back to bumble elsewhere, and it would be just them.

The day didn’t come. It wouldn’t come. And maybe Vlad needed to change himself for Maddie. If he listened to her and Jack’s ghost ramblings, if he could put Jack in his place and solve the things Maddie couldn’t, it would show her. She’d understand.

Because that was the thing about Jack. His math was never right. Enduring Calculus 1 with Jack was all it took to prove this to Vlad. How many times he’d caught a single error on a single line for Jack, like a dropped stitch that would unravel the whole sweater. Every problem, without exception. Jack only passed on his homework grade with Vlad’s help. On his tests, he failed.

So Vlad was staring at Jack’s equation, full of bogus math, which Vlad knew was wrong because Jack had penned it, and Vlad had not yet fixed it himself.

“I’m telling you Jack, it won’t work.”

“Bogus V-man it totally will!”

It wouldn’t. But Vlad wouldn’t fix it for him. Not yet. Vlad would let Jack embarrass himself first, fully in front of Maddie, watching on, judging. Vlad would solve it for her. After. Once Jack had made a fool of himself for the hundredth time since college began.

He leaned in to study the portal frame. The gears were turning in his head already. He didn’t hear the whir of the power source catch.

…

19. Vlad Masters was 19. A tube ran down his nose and into his lungs, supplying oxygen for lungs which were failed by a diaphragm sloughing itself away. He was poisoned from the outside-in. Irradiated by ecto-energy none of the nurses or doctors could fully understand. It damaged his DNA. First obvious in the skin of his face where the blisters of his ecto-acne drained and sloughed. “Acne” was the wrong word. An unkind word. They were boils where the blast had cooked his skin, microwaved his cells. The skin on his body blackened over time. Organs decayed. Vlad Master read a lot about radiation sickness. He knew everything he had to expect.

Jack and Maddie had stopped visiting. They were dating now. It was on their last visit they’d told him, and Vlad hadn’t taken it well, and he’d perhaps burned a few bridges with the words he chose. It was deserved. Considering what Jack did to him.

He’d found the error in Jack’s math, by the way. Errors, but all the rest paled in impact compared to the lambda. The ecto-energy. The necessary ecto-potential to pull the Ghost Zone here. How stupid. How idiotic. For Vlad to die to a machine so botched in its construction.

When Vlad was released from the hospital, it was not because they’d cured him. It had been because there is a certain cruelty in making a 19-year-old live the last of his days bedded down in a white-walled room with just his books, his equations, and no one coming to visit anymore.

He was released with bedrest instructions. Vlad did not heed them. In his beater car, every cell of his body aching, he drove. At the materials lab, he disconnected his oxygen tank and moved through the lab space with the tube dangling loose from his nostril. No one was Vlad Masters’ friend. No one cared to stare long at his ugly boil-ridden face. No one stopped him as he hauled sheet metal, and supports, and bolts and wiring and resistors and power tools, checked out with a valid student ID, from the lab. The lab inventory room would not be seeing these back.

It was a prep bunker, buried beneath a vast lot of empty Wisconsin land, that Vlad hauled his materials. He and Jack had discovered it as freshmen. Poked through its bowels with flashlights and quipped and laughed over how eerie it was. Deep beneath the sheetrock, boxy rooms carved out of walls of stone. Shelf upon shelf of dusty canned foods, and shotguns sealed in cases fastened to the walls. The locks had rusted with water damage.

His arms ached until they throbbed, dragging beams of metal across the stone floor, scratching chalk-mark stains into the ground. His skin sloughed, inflamed, burning to the touch. Vlad didn’t bother to rest, because these injuries would never heal anyway. He hauled, and welded, and wired up his circuitry and resistors with a care and caution Jack would never have bothered to practice. He checked it against his math by flashlight. He took naps on the cold stone floor and woke with deep purple bruises on every part of his body that had pressed against the ground.

His appetite left him. His lungs filled with mucus. The boils on his face had spread down to his chest, his shoulders. The touch of his shirt chafed them, so he worked without one, a figure of skeletal rib ridges jutting from tight skin that bloomed with the projection of his shadow against stone walls.

He knew why Jack’s math was wrong.

A silly mistake. A stupid mistake. Anyone with half a mind for the paranormal should have realized the Ghost Zone was not so easily at your beck and call. Not without chumming the water with something it would rise to feast on.

And in that violent death, what would happen to the ghost? It would stay, wouldn’t it? If it successfully anchored the Ghost Zone to the portal it stood inside, then by definition the ghost would stay?

And was that death? Yes, in a way. But it was a death one would get to keep living. As opposed to the death Vlad was headed for, whose coldness and finality scared Vlad more than anything he could put to words.

He’d fixed the oxygen tank back to himself. He couldn’t work without it, hauling it about on a little dolly with him, back and forth, while he fetched and affixed the last of the plating he needed to craft the frame of his silent soulless portal.

He’d stolen a generator from the sports storage shed. It was meant to be enough to power the portable stadium lights they hauled onto the fields for late games, an absolute obelisk meant to cast light across an entire football field.

Surely, it contained enough power to kill one simple human.

Vlad fixed the last bolt in place. Jumper cables clamped generator to portal wiring. It was a pure skeleton. A paltry thing, like the bones of something already picked clean. Built in haste, sloppy, by a 19-year-old whose fingers were too inflamed to clutch a wrench any longer.

He could have asked Jack for help. Maddie. But he wouldn’t let them have this. They had to solve the portal on their own. They didn’t get to know his hard work. They did not get to save him.

Vlad would save himself.

A ghost anchored to a body. What was that? What monster was that?

Vlad moved. He coughed mucus from his lungs. It made it hard to breathe. So he moved slowly, and crouched, bony jutting angles, painted blotchy purple, all bruises and skin, sloughing away.

He crouched, because the portal he’d constructed was not large enough to hold him standing up. He bowed inside it, a small thing, a pathetic man of little life. He wheezed. He hurt. His eyes burned.

And he held in his hands the remote to flip the generator switch, and connect the circuit, and bring to life the math Vlad had so kindly corrected out from under Jack’s grip.

Vlad did not. Because throwing the switch would kill him.

Deep in his animal brain, his dying brain, he knew this intimately. It filled him with a drowning fear like paralysis. He did not want to die.

He would die if he did nothing.

It would be this one throwing of the switch which could save him. Which would burst the portal to life right through his heart. Electrocute it out of its rhythm, slaughter him like a pig on spot and… maybe… hopefully… drag the Ghost Zone here. And whatever he was, dead, would stay.

And whatever he was, dead, would be better than this.

Vlad held the remote in his clammy hands.

And from within the humming skeleton of his portal, his fingers caressed the on button.

…

The portal sung its happy contentment, mused in its healthy green aura, staining all the slabs of rock wall. Danny swiveled his head, recognizing now the bunker this had been before it had been a laboratory.

“I’ve harmed no one, Daniel,” Vlad concluded, his voice too measured for the horrors it had spilled forth. Too calm against the blossoming terror its words had wrought across Danny’s face. “I opened the portal to save myself. You’re lucky, Daniel. It was because of my fast thinking that your father is not a murderer. I took that honor from him.” Vlad’s head tilted to the side, suddenly sympathetic. “Although, you’ve maybe made the title whole for him.”

Vlad reached out, Danny shot away.

“Dad didn’t kill me,” he choked. “I did this to myself.”

“How lucky Jack is, to always dodge responsibility for his actions.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Of course you don’t. If you believed me, you’d have to accept you’re not wriggling out of this. There’s no denial you can bring home to your parents. If you believe me, then this is reality.” Vlad smiled, a playful glint to his fangs. “I suppose I should have more sympathy. I quite like being this way. It is so much nicer than wasting away to death, like I was. But you. You were healthy before this. This killed you, and it didn’t save you from anything.” Vlad cocked his head. “Such tragic fates, both of us, due to the carelessness of Jack Fenton.”

Danny shook his head. His heart beat—his human heart beat—all too fast in his throat. It made him sick. It made him feel like the walls were closing in around him. This was Vlad’s doing. Vlad’s trap. Vlad’s prison he’d been forced to join.

"That's not true. I'm not like you."

“Of course not,” Vlad said, sweetly. “How sweet denial is. Deny it if you like. Call me a liar. But if you ever want to come to terms with what your father did to you, consider coming to me. I understand you in a way no one else will.”

Danny gave no response. He gave no acknowledgement of Vlad’s words. He took to the air, phased himself up through the sheetrock that had been packed atop the doomsday prepper bunker. Up through the mansion, which had been built atop the portal beneath it, and not the other way around. Into the open sky, he breathed fresh air not stagnant and damp beneath the ground, bathed in light pure white from the sun and not tainted green like the bowels underneath him.

And he flew back toward the portal that made him, leaving Vlad with the portal from which he’d made himself.

...

(inspiration post from @ciestess)

[kizzer55555]

Core Gems

So when a ghost becomes injured, they have a last ditch defense where they retreat into their core. And I mean, injured badly where their body is rip apart to the point they can’t hold a solid form anymore. And they basically go into a hibernation state until they are strong enough to form again.

Ellie, Danny, and Dan are all injured in a final battle against the GIW. The organization was destroyed and the ghosts were safe but the halfas ended up being so injured that they reverted to core form and then went to sleep for a bit. When they woke up, they were still weak but at least recovered enough to gain consciousness. And realize…they are in some kind of auction…in the middle of a heist. It appeared that two furries (one in a bat costume and one in a cat costume) were ducking it out. And they…they were a necklace. All three of them had been turned into a necklace with their cores as gems accompanied by sapphires, pearls, and opals. And frankly gorgeous craftsmanship as the metal was crafted around their cores as if to cradle them and the other gems.

Unfortunately, they were too weak to take a form properly, they could still feel the strain on their bodies. But at least they could still communicate through their auras. Then the cat lady punched a hole in the glass container surrounding them and grabbed their necklace.

However, the bat grabbed the other end and it resulted in a sort of tug-a-war. Meanwhile, Danny, Ellie, and Dan were having a back and form commentary on the situation and what they should do. Completely unheard by the other party.

In the corner of their eye, the three halfas finally noticed a third contender. Some kind of clown who was…hold on…holding a gun?! And it was pointed straight at the two fighting furies who had yet to notice him. The ghosts’ protective instincts went into overdrive and they frantically tried to shout, yell, move. Just do something to warn the two but their cries fell on deaf ears. All they succeeded in doing was faintly glow which immediatly caught the attention of the fighting duo. The two turned to look at the strange necklace but right at that moment, the clown fired and a gunshot rang throughout the auction room. Having no other options, Danny and the others poured every ounce of ectoplasm they had to try and phaseshift, making the two furries intangible as the bullets passed right through them, but in their shock, the two jumped away in opposite directions and accidentally ripped the necklace apart. Gems and pearls went flying and the three cores bounced along the ground.

Luckily, the two finally noticed the clown and went to deal with him and his minions who had appeared. Seemingly putting their fight on hold and forming a temporary truce. The three halfas could only watch as the battle finally wound down, ending with the cops barging into the place and arresting the clown and his grunts, the cat managing to escape with half the scattered gems and pearls from the broken necklace along with a few other jewelry pieces (none of their cores though) and the bat leaving through a skylight.

The auction continued and in the end, despite being broken, their necklace seemed to have caught someone’s interest. A man named Bruce Wayne bought up every piece of the shattered jewelry wear. The auctioneers appeared relived that the item managed to sell in the end and gratefully gave it to him.

Bruce had no idea what happened at the auction, but he could have sworn that some of the gems faintly glowed right before he and Selina were shot. If the necklace was some sort of magical item, then he needed to understand exactly what has been brought to Gotham. It was unfortunate that Selena had taken some parts of the necklace but he utilized his vast wealth to make sure all the other parts ended in his possession. Now he would take them back to the mansion for examination.

[sweetiecutie]

Dating Tom Marvolo Riddle

Warnings: NSFW, possessiveness, toxicity

A/n: sorry for the long absence babes! I’m in my depressive episode again, but I finally managed to finish those hc’s, they’ve been in my drafts for ages🙄. Anyways, hope you’ll enjoy it💖

Even though Tom never expresses his attraction toward you verbally, you can still see just how much you mean to him through his actions. His love is all about the small gestures like fixing the askew collar of your shirt, sharing his notes if you have difficulties in some classes, making sure that you eat enough etc.

You’re the only one who can actually touch him. Of course, teachers, especially Slughorn, often give Tom encouraging pats on the back or shoulder, but only you are allowed to touch his skin. To play with neat waves of his dark hair, brush your fingertips against Tom’s cheekbones in endearment, interlock your fingers while walking down school halls together. Only you

Tom is very possessive, not only with treasured magical objects, but also with you. He wants everyone to know that you are his, his and his only. Most of the time one of his hands rests securely around your shoulders or waist, keeping you as close as possible, glaring down at anyone who looks at you longer than a few seconds

Because of said possessiveness Tom is almost always by your side - you sit together in all your shared classes, and if it happened that he doesn’t take one of the subjects that you do, he has his devoted followers to be right beside you instead, making sure that no ‘unreliable’ people from your class are in near proximity to you. Outside of classes - you’re almost always seated on his lap. In the common room, courtyard, library - everywhere. He especially loves it when you sit on his lap during his privat meetings in the Room of Requirements - him sitting in the head of a long table with you cuddled up into his side, surrounded by his followers listening resolutely to every word he says. It gives him such a sense of power, having not only all of his minions, but also you - the only person he loves - at his complete mercy

Every one of Tom’s followers knows better than to talk to you, unless you are the one who starts conversation. And god forbid them being anything than polite and friendly to you.

Casual dominance? Yes, Tom is all about that. He likes it when you submit to his orders, no matter how small and trivial they are. “Darling, finish your tea, you need to warm up after a walk” or “Go to bed now, it’s too late” or “Put your book down, you’ve been reading for too long. Let your eyes rest”. And it angers Tom so much when you disobey, he wants what’s best for you, why can’t you see that? Most of the conflicts you guys have are actually caused by that, because you too don’t like being pushed around like a small child

Talking about conflicts - it is extremely hard for Tom to admit that he’s wrong, so if conflicts do occur between you two, Tom makes it look like you are the guilty one (even if you’re not). So yeah, he’s still a bit toxic, no matter how hard he tries to suppress it within himself

NSFW ahead!

Despite popular opinion walking around this mesmerizing platform, I don’t think that Tom sleeps around with every person he deems attractive. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ll be his first (and only) sexual partner, even despite all the girls and boys almost throwing themselves on him in hopes of getting at least one touch

WILL👏FINGER👏YOU👏LITERALLY EVERYWHERE👏 Okay but this man has absolutely no shame when it comes to his lover (meaning you). Plus points if you’re in public place like library or classroom, and god, is he cocky. “You gotta be quiet, yeah? Don’t want other people to hear how much of a slut you are, do we?” all while his long slender fingers make their way up under your skirt, past the elastic of your pretty panties, and all you are left to do is to spread your legs a bit wider for Tom, and try to be as quiet as possible. And oh, don’t forget to take notes, you’re still in a middle of a class!

NOT into daddy kink. Being an orphan, even the word ‘dad’ itself feels strange, wrong even for Tom, so if you want to call him daddy - expect him to freak the fuck out. But if you’re into names he’d love it if you call him ‘sir’ or ‘master’, it gives him sense of power and authority over you

And while we’re on this topic - you’re called everything BUT your name in bed. Tom loves calling you names - whore, slut, fucktoy, darling, sweetness, princess - all that stuff. And oh, when he mixes praise with degradations, all while fucking you absolutely stupid *sighs dreamily*. “What’s that dollface? Is it too much for you? Can this slutty cunt take no more of my cock inside, hm? Stop pretending sweetheart, I know how much of a greedy whore you are, so shut the fuck up and take it”

Definitely will pin you against the wall as he towers over your smaller form, one hand resting next to your head while the other one cups your face gently, forcing you to look him straight in the eyes while whispering the filthiest things ever, making your panties soaking wet in a matter of minutes just by using his words. “You’re so needy, aren’t you? Walking around in that short skirt, swaying your hips like that. Think I didn’t notice, hm? I’d love to see those hips swaying while you ride my cock, what do you think about that?”

Even though Tom expects full obedience from you, he still likes it when you get a bit bratty. When you comply with every one of his orders, but there’s still something mischievous and coquettish about your behavior - naughty little comments slipping off your tongue here and there, and then you are batting that pretty doe eyes up at him, as if it wasn’t you saying all those things. “Moan louder” he orders in a strained voice, hips snapping into yours with loud smacking sound. “Fuck harder then” you quip back, sly smirk curling your lips at the sight of Tom’s perfect eyebrows pulling together in a frown. Your small giggle dies in your throat as man pulls out of you, just to slam his cock all the way back into your pussy, making your body jolt forward with the ferocity of the impact. Want it harder - you get it harder

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated, they inspire me on creating even more content for you💖

[foone]

So here's how the story goes. Four young adults are teleported away from 1940s earth, where it turns out they're the last descendants of the great sages who defeated evil all those years ago, but with his last breath banished the sages to earth. Now, 200 years later, evil has risen again: a vile sorcerer has raised an army and is threatening the peaceful kingdoms of a fantasy world, and only the Divine Bloodline can weild the Weapons of Light and defeat the rampaging hordes. The heroes take up their weapons and fight the good fight, leading the armies of man and elf and dwarf and beast against the evil orcs, who are vaporized by their touch. They cut a path through the horde and defeat evil's greatest champions, who were guarding the Gem of Control, an ancient artifact that gave the terrible wizard control over the orcish population. Just as one of them swings their hammer to shatter it, the wizard intervenes, and uses the last bit of his control to destroy his army, lest they join you in their freed state. As the pieces of the gem hit the floor, already losing their sickly green glow, they see the attacking orcs fade into mist. They'd killed hundreds in your crusade, sure, but he just killed all of them. They later learn, against all fervent hopes, that this extended to the orcish homelands. Men, women, and children, cooking in their homes, planting the crops, raising brutecows and hunting in the dark forests... All gone in an instant. The scouts report a silent land with tools lying in workshops, food left uneaten at dining tables, and bursting into tears at entering a house to find it was a schoolhouse: Quills lying in all the seats, with rough parchment next to it showing the first few letters of the orcish alphabet.

They redouble their efforts, now fueled with genuine hatred for the evil sorcerer. He shifts his tactics, relying on darker magics to summon undead minions, which don't need the Gem of Control. They don't go poof when a holy weapon touches them, but are still no match for the divine warriors. With a skeleton the size of a zeppelin smashing down towers around them, the warriors reach the wizard and drive a broadsword of light through his chest. The skeletons collapse back into their eternal slumber in little piles on the floor.

The warriors put aside their weapons as they're received with great cheer. They're invited to join the royal families of the four kingdoms, marrying into the human, elf, dwarf, and beast royalty. They spend the rest of their long reign ensuring peace returns, monuments are made for the fallen orc nation, and the remaining undead who fled are not allowed to prey on the peasants, only taking up arms again to fight a den of vampires left behind.

In their old age, the wizard who brought them here reappears. It's taken him decades to develop the right magics, but he can finally send them home. They abdicate, letting their hybrid offspring take control, certain in their ability to run a kingdom with wisdom and justice. They leave behind their holy weapons, in case evil rises again. The wizard warns them that much may have changed in the world they left, as 80 years has passed there while it was only 40 for them, but they still want to see if London still stands and if their families or their descendants are alive.

They appear in the modern day, 2024. They're amazed at the technological progress, of course, but then there's a bigger shock. This isn't just an isekai story: this is a reverse-isekai story.

The holy weapons were forged using the same magics that brought them to the fantasy world in the first place. When they vaporized orcs, they didn't die, they were teleported. Teleported here. Every mind-controlled orc warrior that tasted their blade woke up uninjured... in Portsmouth.

And when the sorcerer tried to wipe them all out as the Gem of Control shattered, all he did was transfer that magic to every one of them. None of them died, except for a few elderly orcs who dropped dead from shock at ending up in England, Earth, 1943.

It's now 2024. The Orc population of London is 3 million. There's twelve orcs in parliament, and another in the house of lords. The world has changed a lot since they left, for the better, the weirder, and the greener.

[harunayuuka2060]

Ace: Serious question. How did MC win you all over?

Deuce: *nods* We are really curious!

Epel: Yes! Please enlighten us, Mammon-sir!

Levi: 'Sir'?

Mammon: Ha! Be jealous, Levi. These are my minions.

Levi: *rolls his eyes*

Barbatos: If you want answers, it's better to ask the point of view of the outsiders.

Simeon: Um... Outsiders?

Solomon: We're not outsiders, Barbatos.

Lucifer: Answer his question then, Barbatos.

Barbatos: ...

Luke: I'll answer that question because I'm sure these demons will try to bend the truth!

Luke: All of these demons, except Barbatos-

Belphie: Don't exempt your father-figure.

Luke: H-He's not my father figure! *clears throat* All these demons tried to corrupt MC, but they all failed! *beams* MC is a strong human! And, and! They are loved by all creatures!

Satan: Except some of us tried to kill them first.

Beel: Raise the hands of those who never hurt them. *puts his hand up*

Mammon: *joining him*

Ace: I- Bruh.

Epel: MC is the embodiment of 'I can fix you.' Literally.

Deuce: *nods in agreement*

Belphie: Well... You could say that they're really unique. Or maybe because they're a distant descendant of our dead sister Lilith.

Ace: What did you say?

Epel: So all of you are-

Simeon: No. I assure you, that isn't the case at all.

Ace: But that's wild, man.

Solomon: *chuckles* Right? That's why no one should ever underestimate MC.

Lucifer: Speaking of them, where are they?

Solomon: They're together with Asmo and Vil. They mentioned visiting a spa place.

Lucifer: I see.

Barbatos: Disappointed they didn't invite you?

Lucifer: Don't be ridiculous, Barbatos.

Diavolo: I am disappointed they didn't invite me.

Lucifer: ...

Vil: Potato, why are you the one massaging Asmodeus?

Asmo: This is our bond, hun~ And it's been a while since MC touched my body like this~.

Vil: *frowns* They are here to relax.

Asmo: I'll give them a massage too later~. Right, darling~?

Vil: ...

MC: Haha, maybe next time when it's just the two of us.

Asmo: Kyaa~! Does that mean you want us to do more~?

Vil: *cringes* Potato, I can't believe you love someone like him.

MC: *chuckles* Well, no one can resist Asmo.

Asmo: That's right~. Since I'm the prettiest in every realm~. No one can compare to my beauty~.

Vil: Excuse me? You are forgetting that I exist.

Asmo: No offense, hun. But you don't hold a candle to me.

Vil: ...

Vil: *smirks* I'm sure Potato will disagree on that.

Asmo: What?

MC: ...

MC: I'm just an ugly person, don't include me in this.

MC: *sigh* *just got home after they managed to stop Vil and Asmo from fighting*

Leona: You look exhausted, Herbivore.

MC: Yeah.

Leona: ...

Leona: *smirks* Want us to cuddle with you?

MC: Huh?

Belphie: *shows up, already sitting next to MC* You need some rest. Let us take care of you.

MC: ...

MC: I'm not surprised if you're going to do that for me, Belphie. But Leona?

Leona: Hey, we're friends.

MC: ...

MC: Fine. I'll accept that excuse for now.

[xcrust]

Now in Technicolor

Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss x Reader Insert

“Tune in folks! demons and damned souls, welcome back to the sultry airwaves of Hell's very own station. I must say, dear listeners, Hell has a certain charm, doesn't it? A cacophony of screams, the crackle of flames, and the subtle whispers of secrets that linger in the shadows. It's a splendid orchestra of despair, and I am here to be your guide through the infernal playlist” 

You expected the man to be insane but you didn't expect him to be so unshameful. 

“So, grab a pitchfork, kick back, and let the music of the damned serenade your darkened souls! Now let's talk about my latest massacre-” 

As of the moment you're not actually with him. Though him doing his broadcast that reigns in all of hell almost feels like he's still beside you all along. As your point of freedom away from your family you decided it was best to get to know hell from the very people that walked the streets. 

Since he began taking you under his wing, you decided to stay with him till you find your place to settle down. 

You were an early riser so the radio was not really a bother. The weird universal agreement to decide night and day here is such a fascination to you. Nevertheless being hell meant there was never a time without someone awake causing chaos. The game plan of working your way up the charts is what your dad always said while growing up, "Don't take shit from other demons”. Starting with that is to gain a more hopeful advantage in knowing the people. 

“Watch this!” a really grimy voice screamed out. Looking that way you could see a few imps running around gathering people's attention.

One taller than the average imp stood with horns adorned in flickering embers, cackling with glee as he addressed his chaotic minions. "Listen up, you fiendish crap! I think it's time to start a new and take back what should be rightfully ours”

In the heart of pentagram city, the joy that you get from seeing the disaster is always so fulfilling. You may be new to these parts but boy does it give you a rush. 

A sleek abyssal demon slinked through the crowd, leaving a trail of illusions in its wake. The demon could not only morph into various grotesque forms but the path that it was leaving behind was startling and amusing onlookers. As it danced between the dimensions of reality and illusion, confused demons stumbled into each other, inadvertently causing a chain reaction of minor skirmishes and squabbles. But what you didn't expect was for him to come up to you. 

“They do this every week, by now it should get through their heads no one is going to listen” His voice was deep. It was such a buttery kind of smooth. 

“I don't know there seems to be a crowd starting” with a smile you look up at him to see an amused look on his face. 

The scene in front of you did intrigue you a lot. The bottom of the food chain in hell trying to make a voice for themselves. Their treatment is a peculiar mix of disdain and indifference. Larger demons may kick an imp out of the way without a second thought or summon them with a snap of their fingers for trivial purposes. Imps are often subjected to the capricious whims of their more powerful counterparts, enduring cruel pranks and occasional bouts of aggression.

Though you never thought that, though treated as the lowest rung of the demonic hierarchy, imps often find themselves at the mercy of their more powerful counterparts. They serve as the labor force, taking on a myriad of roles and responsibilities that range from menial tasks to dangerous assignments. Whether it's cleaning the twisted architecture of demonic structures or scurrying about as messengers delivering missives between the higher-ups, imps are ubiquitous fixtures in the daily hustle of Hell

“The pride ring is the top show in these parts and what do we get?! We get booted to the side and have to deal with the hypocrisy of these stupid standards!!” Those who spoke up before started chanting about rights for imps. 

Certainly something that you would stand behind. Maybe it's a closed minded thought process but what was the point of souls from earth having more respect than the ones from here? 

The heartbreaking sight was to see them run out. Demons of all kinds were starting to riot against them. In the face of adversity, the mischievous imps vowed to continue their antics, proving that even the smallest creatures could leave an indelible mark on the tumultuous canvas of Hell The Hellraisers disappear into the chaotic crowd, leaving a trail of bewildered demons and a street strewn with toppled stalls. with mayhem reigning supreme in the darkened streets.

“It's stupid and kinda sad to watch” The man stood beside you huffing out. 

“Aren't you a hypocrite, you're an earthborn yourself aren't you?” the ego that these people have never stops amazing you everyday. 

“Yeah… just because I'm here doesn't mean I'm set in stone as a bad person… Though looking at you, I'd guess you're like myself but you look almost a little too perfect for a human” crossing his arms he looked at you. 

“That's because im-! You know who you are anyways dickbag”  This guy was seriously putting you off. Comparing you to whatever those disappointments are. 

“Pump the hate breaks… I'm Walter by the way.. Since you asked." The cadence of his voice was so politician based that it could lead you to go insane. 

As the chaos unfolded around you, Walter's nonchalant demeanor seemed to contrast sharply with the tumultuous scene. The imps' attempts to rally for their rights had escalated into a full-blown street brawl, with demons of varying sizes and shapes joining the fray. The air resonated with shouts, roars, and the occasional yelp from an imp caught in the crossfire.

"Quite the spectacle they're putting on, isn't it?" Walter questions raising an eyebrow

You observed the chaos with a mix of fascination and concern. The imps were outnumbered and outmatched, yet their resilience and determination to stand up against the status quo intrigued you.

"Yeah, it is," you replied, eyes still fixed on the scene. "Seems like they're fed up with being pushed around."

Walter chuckled, a dry sound that echoed through the cacophony. "Oh, they've been trying to make a statement for ages. It's almost cute."

"Cute?" You shot him a disapproving look. "They're fighting for their rights. It's not cute; it's necessary."

Walter's gaze lingered on you for a moment before he shrugged, unimpressed. "Necessary, maybe. But in Hell, it's a matter of survival. Those little imps are just making noise in a world that won't listen."

The riot continued to escalate, with fiery projectiles, illusions, and general pandemonium swirling around. Amidst the chaos, a trio of larger demons emerged, their expressions twisted into malicious grins.

"Looks like the big guns are stepping in. This is where it gets interesting." you said while stepping back to not get caught in the crossfire. Values and morals aside, sometimes seeing stuff play out is widely more interesting than anything else. Fuck you sounded sadistic.

The trio of demons seemed to relish the opportunity to quash the imp uprising. With a wave of their hands, they conjured dark energy, sending shockwaves through the crowd of imps. You could see the smaller demons being tossed aside like ragdolls, their attempts at resistance quickly crushed.

You felt a surge of empathy for the imps, caught in a cycle of oppression and rebellion. However, Walter's detached demeanor left you conflicted. Was he merely observing the chaos, or did he revel in the anarchy that unfolded before him?

Leaning into you his dark haze felt almost suffocating. "Well, darling, what do you think? Will the imps triumph or become another forgotten footnote in Hell's sordid history?" 

The question lingered in the air, emphasizing the harsh reality of Hell's hierarchy. The imps' plight seemed both desperate and valiant, a stark reminder that even in Hell, some fought for a semblance of dignity and recognition. 

“Whatever, if this is just a game to you, I hope your luck runs out” you remark before heading out of the city center. Being around him made you miss the annoying voice of alastor. 

Walking away from him was the easiest thing that you could do. His attempt to engage you in conversation, using terms like "darling" with a sly smile, only added to your growing irritation. It felt like he was mocking not only the imps but also your own principles and values.

The crimson glow of dawn began to seep through the curtains of Alastor's luxurious suite of his radio booth, signaling the end of another night's radio broadcast. The room, adorned with vintage furnishings and an air of refined chaos, bore witness to the aftermath of Alastor's nocturnal endeavors.

reclined in an opulent armchair, a contented smirk playing on his lips. The room still echoed with the faint whispers of his charismatic voice, which had reached every corner of Hell during the broadcast. The radio equipment, adorned with dials and adorned in a distinct retro aesthetic, hummed softly, now temporarily dormant.

 Alastor found his thoughts occasionally drifting to the enigmatic (Y/n). a peculiar newcomer to Hell or at least to what he thinks. had managed to capture the attention of the radio demon in a way that he couldn't quite dismiss. The glimmers of defiance in (Y/n)'s gaze during their encounters had not gone unnoticed. Alastor, who revealed in the unexpected and the unconventional, found a peculiar satisfaction in the mystery that surrounded them. In Hell, where familiarity often bred contempt, the unknown was a rare and exhilarating novelty.

As the first rays of dawn bathed the room in a warm glow, Alastor's posture shifted. He rose from the chair, his movements graceful and deliberate. Despite the seemingly chaotic nature of his radio persona, there was an undeniable elegance to his every action.

Alastor pondered the significance of this newcomer's journey through the infernal landscape. Why could he feel such raw power? Though why is it that he is reminded of himself when thinking about them. 

Walking over to a nearby table, Alastor poured himself a cup of tea. The delicate porcelain clinked softly against the saucer as he sipped the hot beverage. The tranquility of the moment contrasted with the lively chaos he had orchestrated just hours ago.

Thinking back to last night, With a casual flick of his wrist, when he summoned ethereal tendrils that danced like shadows in the night. These spectral appendages slithered through the air, reaching out to the trembling souls and ensnaring them in a web of malevolent energy. The very fabric of reality seemed to warp under his influence, distorting the surroundings into a nightmarish landscape.

Alastor's mind, ever calculating, reflected on the success of the night's broadcast. The intertwining melodies of jazz and hellish commentary had woven a tapestry of entertainment, capturing the attention of listeners from the lowliest imps to the loftiest demons. The echoes of laughter and applause lingered in his mind like a symphony of souls.

As the jazz tunes from a nearby record player filled the air, Alastor reclined in his chair, a sly grin playing on his lips. The prospect of weaving the reader into the ongoing narrative of Hell sparked a mischievous glint in his eyes. (Y/n), in their apparent defiance of the expected norms, had become a wild card in the devil's deck of amusement.

 Getting up to Leisurely strolling through the lavish suite, Alastor glanced at a vintage record player. He selected a vinyl record, the soothing crackle of the needle finding its groove as the melodic tunes of an old jazz number filled the room. The music, a stark departure from the energetic chaos of his radio show, created an ambiance of refined tranquility.

From below his window he sees these peculiar picture shows from down below.

"My, my, attempting to disturb the delicate balance of my little corner of Hell? How utterly quaint.” 

“Hey! I'm back! Damn, is it a lively scene out there,” you call out as you stride into your shared living space.

Alastor, reclining on a vintage armchair, smirks in response. "Ah, my dear (Y/n), chaos is the very essence of this delightful realm. One must learn to appreciate the symphony of suffering that plays around us."

"Yeah, well, it's just something that I'll make work in my hand,” you reply, taking a moment to glance around the eclectic decor of your hellish abode.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Alastor stands up abruptly. "I know you just got back, but we are going out!" His enthusiasm is palpable, and you can tell he has something interesting in mind.

“Wait, I think I had my share—” you try to speak out before being abruptly grabbed by the arm.

“Come on, my dear!” In a flash, you find yourself whisked out of the apartment, leaving behind the familiar surroundings for whatever adventure Alastor has in store.

"Alastor, where are we even going?" you asked, trying to keep up with his brisk pace. His usual grin widened, revealing a hint of mischief.

"Patience, my dear (Y/n). I have something intriguing to show you," Alastor replied, his voice carrying an air of secrecy.

He turned to face you, his expression unreadable. "I thought it would be delightful to pay a visit to our esteemed TV demon. After all, shouldn't we take a look at all kinds of media?"

Before you could voice your reservations, Alastor pushed open the doors of the Vox Network headquarters, leading you into the opulent reception area. The robotic sentinels stood guard, and Vox's voice echoed through the room.

"Ah, Alastor! A pleasure to have you in the building! , What a delightful surprise," a booming voice echoed from the center of the room. Vox, the flamboyant TV demon, materialized in a cloud of static. His slick, metallic appearance glowed in an array of colors, and his screen-like face displayed a perpetually changing expression. his screen displaying a charismatic smile.

Vox extended a hand towards Alastor. the radio demon simply walked past to which earned a small glitch seen at the corner of his screen. 

“Seems you've brought a pet?” The fact that no one knew who you were was starting to get on your nerves. Calling you a pet? Well that's something that will make you riot. 

In the face of Vox's condescending remark, you felt a spark of irritation flicker within you. Alastor's dismissal of the TV demon's extended hand had left a peculiar glitch on Vox's screen, a subtle indication that the flamboyant host wasn't accustomed to being ignored.

"No one's anyone's pet," you retorted, asserting yourself in the opulent reception area. The robotic sentinels glanced in your direction, their mechanical eyes narrowing as if registering an unexpected anomaly.

Vox's screen shifted to an intrigued expression, the colors dancing in an erratic display. "Ah, a voice from the shadows! I must confess, I wasn't aware we had a new player in this delightful game."

Alastor, leaning against a holographic display, observed the unfolding interaction with a glint of amusement in his eyes. "She's no pet, Vox. Just someone with a taste for chaos and curiosity about your little empire."

Vox chuckled, the sound reverberating through the sleek surroundings. "Chaos and curiosity, my favorite combination! How intriguing! So, (Y/n), what brings you into our glamorous world today?"

You crossed your arms, a defiant gleam in your eyes. "I'm not here to be entertained or become anyone's spectacle if thats what youre thinking.”

Alastor stepped in “We just thought we'd see what all the fuss is about."

Vox's screen displayed a mix of amusement and curiosity. "A renegade spirit, I like it! But you're in the presence of yours truly and We don't do small things here. Let's skip the foreplay and get into it. How about a little deal? I'll make you an offer you can't refuse."

You eyed Vox skeptically, wary of the gleam in his screen. Alastor, seemingly unfazed, glanced at you with a sly grin. "Go on, (Y/n), entertain his offer. He has no power or specialty. We might find something amusing in his little game."

“Ok first fuck you alastor and no way in the seven rings would I join you I wouldnt join anyone” The prospect of dealing with Vox made your skin crawl, but the allure of navigating Hell's media empire intrigued you. 

Vox's screen flickered with a mix of surprise and subtle annoyance as you firmly rejected his proposition. The colors on his metallic visage swirled in a display of shifting hues, mirroring the complex emotions running through the TV demon's circuits.

"Well, well, aren't you a feisty one, Are you sure about not joining anyone? You seem like a loyal dog to that freak" Vox mused

Your resolve remains unshaken, and you meet Vox's screen with a defiant gaze. "I don't need your offers, Vox. I'll find my own way through Hell's chaos."

Vox's laughter echoed through the opulent reception area, a mix of genuine amusement and an underlying sense of challenge. "Very well, (Y/n). Should you change your mind or seek a taste of the limelight, you know where to find me.”

What a bitch… At this point you were at your limit so you walked out to the side of the room to not entertain this conversation. The fucking nerve of these people. Even Alastor was being a little bit of a shit at the moment. 

“There's a certain allure to the unknown, wouldn't you say?" Vox pondered aloud, his screen displaying a charismatic smile.

Alastor, still leaning against the holographic display, turned to you with a smirk. "Well done, my dear.”

Alastor's antlers grew as he stood before Vox, his crimson eyes piercing 

"Ah, Vox, my dear fellow," Alastor began, his voice carrying a melodic tone laced with a subtle threat. "I hope you enjoyed the rejection dance my little friend here performed. Now, let's get one thing clear – I don't dance to anyone's tune, especially not yours. You might be the new shiny toy right now but people always come back to the original"

Vox's screen glitched momentarily, revealing a flicker of irritation.

"What's the meaning of this, Alastor?" Vox demanded, his voice losing some of its usual charisma and taking on a sharper edge. "You come here and start bitching at me about not joining me?! We've already established that” 

“You underestimate the consequences of refusing me, Alastor," Vox hissed, his voice losing its previous charm entirely. "This will be my realm to control, and those who reject my advances often find themselves in a far less favorable position."

Alastor chuckled, the sound echoing in the extravagant reception area. "Consequences, Vox? I've faced worse in my time. Your attempts to control the narrative may work on the masses, but not on someone who knows the art of chaos."

As Alastor turned to leave, Vox seethed with frustration. The TV demon couldn't fathom being denied, and Alastor's rejection left a lingering tension in the air. Vox's screen displayed an animated storm of chaotic colors.

A surge of annoyance swept over you. Alastor's encouragement of Vox and his apparent amusement at the situation grated on the reader's nerves. The reader couldn't fathom why he enabled the TV demon's actions especially considering the TV demon's manipulative and self-serving nature. To make matters worse it really felt like he was making fun of you. 

“Fuck off Alastor”

"(Y/n), this is Hell, and power here is earned through deals and influence. If you want to make your mark, you have to start making deals," Alastor advised in a tone that was both casual and instructional. His words resonated with a hint of amusement, as if he relished the idea of the reader navigating the treacherous landscape of Hell.

“I'm not some social experiment, why are you still here?” however, was taken aback by Alastor's nonchalant attitude toward the situation. The idea of making deals in exchange for souls seemed like a slippery slope, and the reader wasn't sure if they were ready to embrace such a cutthroat approach

“Embrace it, and you'll see just how intoxicating the taste of power can be." he replied

If they were to survive and thrive in Hell, understanding the art of making deals was a necessary skill. With a determined nod, they acknowledged Alastor's guidance.

"Alright, Alastor. Teach me the ropes. I might as well learn how to play this game if I'm going to survive in Hell," the reader conceded, a resolute glint in their eyes.

“Im staying with you, but if you even think about being an ass while other people are around you're going to be counting your last minutes” 

“Doll, if you can barely stand up for yourself, I don't think I have anything to worry about,” he laughed out.

He's seriously pushing your buttons right now.

“As an overlord, you have dominion over a specific territory or domain within Hell. This grants you considerable authority and control over the demons and souls, you want that right? Power?” he asked.

All of a sudden you heard a loud bash of commotion coming from a group of demons that appeared to be fighting.

Pushing through the crowd, they discovered a group of demons surrounding none other than Walter.

One of the larger demons, a hulking figure with horns resembling twisted spires, look with disdain. "This fool thinks he can waltz into our territory and act like he owns the place."

Walter, bloodied but defiant, attempted to maintain his composure. "Now, now, gentlemen, there's no need for such hostility. Let's talk this out civilly."

The demons surrounding Walter scoffed at his attempts at diplomacy, clearly unimpressed. The reader couldn't help but feel a surge of annoyance at Walter's earlier arrogance.

"Perhaps, my dear (Y/n), we should let this play out. It's always entertaining to witness the ebb and flow of power dynamics in Hell," Alastor mused, his eyes glinting with a sinister delight.

"Come on! Do something about this!!, you can't just stand there and watch!" Walter's voice cracked with a mixture of pain and panic as he pleaded for help. 

"My, my, Walter, seems like you've landed yourself in quite a bind. Who would have thought our charismatic friend would face such a predicament?" you said out loud

“please! I'm not cut out for this kind of roughing up!" Walter's words were desperate, his eyes pleading for intervention. The demons surrounding him laughed, reveling in his vulnerability

“Oh please you were such a bigshot earlier, get yourself out of this mess”

ignoring the demons' taunts, you whispered out a proposal which the smoked and leaned in closer to Walter and whispered the terms of the deal. The specifics echoed in the demonic air, forming an unspoken pact that hung heavy in the atmosphere.

"Deal," Walter agreed, relief washing over him as the terms were settled. The demons, though momentarily confused, soon found themselves turned to dust. 

Alastor observed the scene with a raised brow, intrigued by the sudden turn of events. The reader's willingness to strike a deal for Walter's soul added a new layer of complexity

Looking back up to him and smiled, “is this what you wanted?”

As Alastor continued to observe the chaotic scene unfolding before him, a smirk played on his lips. The demons surrounding Walter, still reveling in the prospect of his impending downfall, were oblivious to the subtle yet profound shift in the power dynamics.

"Well, well, it seems you've decided to make a deal. How delightful!" Alastor chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. The atmosphere shifted, charged with an unspoken agreement between you and Walter.  

“Now, now, gentlemen, let's not keep our eager audience waiting. After all, this is shaping up to be quite the dramatic performance,” Alastor commented looking at the rest of the demons that just fell dead, staring at the corpses with a dark amusement lacing his words. He leaned casually against a nearby demonic structure, his radio-like grin widening.

[creativewritersposts]

driving lessons - Lando Norris

summary; Lando Norris x f!reader.

Lando wants to teach you how to drive, but what if he's not as good as a professional teacher?

warning(s); maybe grammar errors, fluff, angst

author's note; loved this request!! had so much fun to write. ♡

--------------------------------------------------------------

It's not like you're afraid to drive, it's more you never needed it. You lived in a city and could order a taxi or take the train. When you met Lando, he couldn't believe you didn't know how to drive. He annoyed you for months to learn this. So here we are, in your little fiat 500.

"Are you ready?", Lando steps inside the car door and groans like a grandpa. "You need a new car, it's a playmobil!", he talks out of his mind. You roll your eyes, he's driving fast cars and is formula one driver. Of course your little fiat is not his favorite, but you love it. It's small like you are.

"Yeah I'm ready", you begin to sweat. What if you mess it up? What if you crash into a tree? You would hurt your boyfriend!

He promised this morning; 'you don't need professional driving lessons because i can teach you'.

Lando touches under your seat and pushes the seat forward.

"You're a minion, make sure you can depress the accelerator pedal without getting back pain, baby", he explains, completely focused on his job to be the best teacher you ever had. You try to depress and it works. You nod, ready for the next step. "okay,car mirrors are ok for you?", he checks on it and leans more into your lap. "Yeah", you look inside all sides.

"Ok try to accelerate and change gear into the two", he crosses his arms, leaning on the window next to him, totally relaxed. You're a smart brain so he doesn't worry much. You learn fast. But when he looks in your direction, his opinion changes fast.

You're afraid, he can see it. Your leg is shaking, your breath stops for seconds until you do it - and you messed up to start the car. "Try again, baby", he giggles. Such a rookie mistake.

You try again, messing up again.

"Oh my gosh what are you doing?! Drepress with your foot and let's go", he gets impatient. "I try, Lando!", tears are forming in your eyes. You're not stupid but it could happen so many things. It's your first time in a car and don't know what to do.

"Do it!", he argues. You try and it worked. It actually worked.

You drive through the empty car park and grin like a winner when you drive to an actual road, "babe I'm better than you!", you laugh. Lando shakes his head, hiding the smile behind his hands, "sure, you're winning a race with 5kmh". "Can you overtake?", he annoys, seeing how you slowly crawl like a turtle behind a motorcycle. "No", you press your lips together, happy a bike drives before you. You can drive in peace and not too fast.

After some time he tells," now drive in reverse and park in", he shows you the space for lengthwise parking.

Oh no. It's not much place. "Lando I can't do it!", you sweat, fingers are clinging into the steering wheel.

"My whole house could park here! You can do it", he wants to support you. "to park lengthwise is easy plus your boyfriend is professional racer. Nothing can happen", he touches your tigh.

You tip on your car turn signals and drive reverse. "STOP!", Lando screams his lungs out and grabing after the wheel. Something crashed because it was loud. "Oh fuck!", he steps outside and touches his neck. "You crashed a car mirror!", his face turns red. "Oh no", was all you could tell in shock. You can't believe you are in trouble.

Tears are falling down, you're a loser. Lando is mad. Ready for some trouble with him you look in his face.

"It's the funniest thing i experienced as a driver", Lando laughs his ass off. He really does, happy tears in his eyes and his squeaky laugh. "Baby the whole car mirror is away!", he cries even more, hands between his nose.

"Stop laughing! It's not funny!", you are disappointed about yourself.

"I'm gonna call my manager and then I'll drive home, babe, everything will be alright", he smirks, walking on your side and opens the door. He knees down and hugs you. You can feel the vibration from his laughing. "I think you need professional driving lessons.", he kisses your lips under laughter.

"Damn my girlfriend is a savage".

[velvette-creations]

Hurt So Good

Hazbin Hotel: The Vees x fem!reader 

Rating: Explicit 

WC: 1.4 k 

Prompt: Exhaustion for @sweetspicybingo (Hurt/Comfort Bingo Collection)

Warnings: Overstimulation, oral (f and m receiving), sex work, mentions of bondage and voyeurism, anal, threesome, some solid aftercare, reader is a fox/demon hybrid inspired by a very minor character on the show

Summary: Being involved with the Vees has its perks 

Your indigo fluffy tail swished, tickling the bare skin of the giant bull, pounding you from behind as drool pooled down the corners of your mouth. It dripped down the shiny pink ball gag strapped around your mouth and splattered on the sheets below. You clenched around him before soaking his cock. Valentino was delighted to nail the money shot in one take and quickly called cut since he was satisfied. You were thankful it had been an easy night. Once Frank slipped out of you, you rolled onto your back and blew him a kiss; your fox ears twitched before you rolled off the bed.

You pushed onto your tiptoes as you stretched. It might not have been a long night, but it had been exhausting. Your muscles constantly ached after an intense bondage scene, and a hot bath sounded so good right now.

“Baby, you were wonderful tonight, simply on fire,” Valentino purred, beckoning you over to him with a crooked finger.

You were still bare, covered in spunk, but you approached him, perching on his knee. “Thanks, Val,” you beamed. You learned quickly it was better to be on his good side.

“And here I thought Angel was my star. I think it might be you,” he cooed, scratching under your chin and making your tail wag.

“Nah, Angel is a diamond. He’s experienced. I’m just a novice at best, like cheap plastic jewelry,” you mumbled.

You jumped in Val’s lap as you felt a cable sneak up your back before lightly wrapping around your throat.

“Now, now, you wouldn’t be talking about my best girl in such a manner. That simply won’t do,” Vox’s voice purred.

“Silly me, just ignore my ramblings. I’m tired,” you said sheepishly, using a furry paw to cover up a yawn.

“You’re working her too hard, Val,” Vox chided, releasing the cable around your throat before setting his chilled hand against your back and nuzzling your shoulder. Soft shocks of electricity burst over your skin.

“The minions can’t get enough of her. I’m simply giving into popular demand,” Val reasoned.

Vox pulled away momentarily, then draped a silk robe around you.  “Well, she’s done for tonight, so let’s take care of her.”

Once your robe was belted around your waist, Valentino scooped you into his arms and carried you into the private quarters of the Vees. You hung tightly to his neck, always forgetting how tall he was. He placed you on the velvet couch and soon you had a lapful of Velvette as she perched her petite body in your lap, covering your face with kisses.

“My favorite foxy girl,” she purred, stroking your ears tenderly, and you felt like you could melt.

You fluttered your lashes, your eyes slowly drooping close as the exhaustion set in your bones. Velvette’s gentle pets were enough to lull you to sleep, but you longed for one last thrill to push you over the edge. To be tugged over the tidal wave, sending you crashing into orgasmic bliss before succumbing to sweet, serene slumber. Your muzzle pressed against Vel’s warm cheek.

“I wanna taste you,” you whispered, your claws furling around her skirt.

“Mmm, that sounds rather lovely to me, foxy girl. Go on then,” she encouraged, her fingers moving through your silky hair as you removed her skirt and panties.

You pressed your palm between her slender thighs, soaking up her wet arousal before taking hold of her hips. She was petite enough to manipulate easily, and you enjoyed making her come undone. You stretched out on the couch before lowering her to your face, your tongue eagerly swiping over her dripping slit. Her hitched moan was music to your ears, spurring you on to eat her out like a starving dog. Her cunt was delicious and warm, sweet nectar dancing against your tongue as you brought her to orgasm, feeling her shiver in your tight grasp as she squirmed against your face.

“My, what a show,” Vox hummed, stroking his hard-on through his tight trousers.

Your claws dug into her tender backside as she rode out her orgasm, grinding against your face until she went limp in your grasp. Your tongue eagerly lapped her clean, savoring every drop before removing her from her seat upon your face.

“Oh fuck me,” Velvette groaned, a broad smile dancing on her face in the aftermath.

“Our little vixen always knows how to satisfy,” Valentino smirked, pink smoke billowing around him as he sauntered to you, cupping your face before his long tongue snaked in your mouth.

One gloved hand caressed the black horns on top of your head as Velvette straddled your stomach.

“Come join us, Voxxy,” she piped up, waving him over.

You watched through heavy-lidded eyes as Vox removed Velvette’s top and bra, his metal fingers tweaking her pebbled nipples. Val pulled away from the sloppy, wet kiss, moving behind your head as he freed his cock. You felt Velvette’s weight slip from your body as Vox maneuvered you so you were on all fours. Val’s weighted cock slapped against your lips, making you shiver, opening your mouth to take him in. Vevlette straddled your back, taking hold of your fluffy tail, lifting it out of the way as her delicate fingers stroked your dripping, swollen cunt, preparing you for Vox.

You felt stuffed full as Vox sunk deep inside you while Val’s cock filled your mouth. Velvette’s slicked fingers played with the tight pucker of your ass, creating a makeshift plug as you gave into all the wonderful feelings, allowing them to use you like a little fuck toy. A sharp snap of Vox’s hips. Velvette’s tender stroking of your tight hole. Your drool puddled down the corners of your mouth as Val fucked your mouth. You couldn’t decide what was the best. All of it felt so damn good.

Your dripping pussy clenched around Vox’s cock as he used his gift to cause a deep vibration to roll through you. Two of Velvette’s fingers filled your tight hole, making you moan around Val’s cock even as your jaw ached. It didn’t take much longer for you to orgasm, feeling overstimulated from earlier. Bands snapped in your lower belly as you crashed over the edge, shuddering around Vox’s vibrating cock and Vel’s fingers. Your jaw went slack around Val’s cock as you rode out the wave until you were finally spent, allowing the serene blue waves to claim you. Oh, it hurt so good.

Your limbs turned to jelly as you were freed from all their appendages. Your knees scooted toward your chest before you curled into a fetal position. Your tail swished over your thighs as Valentino gave you a gentle pat between your black curved horns. Your fluffy ears smoothed back happily. Velvette may have been tiny in stature, but she made up for it in strength as she pried your limbs apart to wipe you clean with a warm towel. A happy yip escaped your maw as Vox began to brush your fur, making it gleam like silk. The three of them certainly knew how to take care of you. Suddenly, you didn’t care about the hot bath anymore.

As the three gathered around the table to enjoy an extravagant dinner from Voracious Eats, you curled in Valentino’s large lap as he fed you bites from his plate. You eagerly lapped up the delicious sauces and meats, savoring each delicious bite before letting out a soft yawn. The warmth of the food soothed your aching throat from swallowing down Val’s cum earlier.

“Our foxy girl needs some rest,” Vox chuckled before taking a long swig of his scotch. His fingers delicately scritched behind one of your ears.

“She worked hard today,” Valentino mused, scratching under your chin.

“It’s hard not to be taken under our little vixen’s spell,” Velvette cooed, reaching out her tiny hand to pat your haunches.

Valentino carried you over to the large bed. You pawed at the silky sheets before turning around in circles then collapsed against the little nest you created. Your eyes drooped close as you snuggled your face between your paws. Halfway through the night, you crawled on Vox’s chest, enjoying the soft thrum of his metallic body as his claws soothingly tangled in your fur. You moved over to Valentino next, making yourself a small ball on his chest, rising with each deep breath he took. That position served well for a bit until you needed something a little different.

You moved over to Velvette, gently nudging her away with your muzzle. Her hands stroked your face, making you wag your tail then curl into a makeshift donut shape. Velvette made herself comfy right in the center of your legs, her face snuggling against your soft, indigo fur. Eventually, Val and Vox snuggled up close on either side of you. With all three curled close, you stayed pleasantly asleep for the rest of the evening.

[fraugwinska]

Our lovely couple moves in together... Smut ahead - Minors DNI - Adult themes!

"Last chance to change your mind, cher."

You cocked your brow with that sweet smile you always had when looking at him, a small box in your hand. Alastor stood at the front doors of his townhouse, his arms crossed and leaning against the door frame, returning your grin with an even wider one.

"You know me long enough to know I am not one to take back my word, love. My house is yours from this day on forward."

With the flick of his wrist, he summoned various of his voodoo minions, who all immediately sprung into action, one of them taking the box out of your hand while the others crept to the waiting car with the few belongings in boxes you had accumulated over the past years. Most of them were books you could hardly part with, an antique room screen you got as a gift from Zestial. Your office, mostly, folders and folders of your articles, the polished black typewriter you loved. A vintage, cherry-wood cathedral radio - Alastor's gift to celebrate your three year anniversary. It's been about nine, now. Nine incredible, enchanting, magical, horrific, terrible and utterly love-filled, chaotic and passionate and simply hellbent and haphazardous years. Nine years, in which Hell came truly alive for you. Nine years, and finally one step further. Moving in together.

He watched as the final helper sprung inside to sit at the steering wheel of the car to drive it back to the rental, his arms still crossed. You tried hard to find the catch, but it seemed that Alastor simply wanted this, just as much as you did. No trickery, no traps, nothing. Just him, and you, together in his treasured house. Well. Mostly.

Though you've not met her yet, you knew about Niffty - a young, new sinner Alastor took under his wings. Whether he made a deal with her, or simply hired her, you didn't know, and you didn't really care, but she would also be at his house, he had told you, as a live-in maid/housekeeper. And because he was a gentleman of his times, he offered to change this condition and make her move out, if it made you uncomfortable - you immediately refused. You wouldn't deny a young demon like her shelter out of petty and misplaced insecurities, and the thought that someone other than yourself would actually be doing the brunt of the housework around your new home was immensely enticing.

With a smirk Alastor lifted himself up and stepped away from the door frame, stretching an arm out as an invitation, still smiling.

Your grin widened at him and you hummed, a rather contented purr escaping your throat and rumbling deep within as you took his hand. He pulled you into him, his head turning to press a kiss into your hair, the fresh breeze blowing a smell of flowers and smoke through the garden - you melted against his touch.

"Well then, welcome to your new home, darling...", Alastor mumbled against the crown of your head.

The town house was one of the few places you had never been to before. Over the years, Alastor let you into his world more and more. His radio tower became your most frequented place to be together, and even that took a full year of talks, dinners, outings and strolls together before that. And the progress into a deeper bond that didn't just rely on the foundation of mutual interest and curiosity was a slow one with him. But he was never, in your eyes, anything other than a gentleman and an all around impeccably wonderful sinner - even at his worst, and certainly at his best. And his very best was, by any and every definition, impressive.

He showed you his turf, introduced you to people who worked for him, acquaintances and friends alike. That's how you've met Mimzy for example, although she certainly wasn't one of your favorite people... but that did go both ways. Alastor adored her, and you respected that. You understood that, considering who he is - the petty grudges Mimzy bore against you because of misplaced jealousy were part and parcel of your life on his side. You remembered the joy when he mentioned that Rosie was also a friend and part of his close inner circle, and she soon became someone whose presence you always enjoyed. Fully supportive and invested in you two as she was, Rosie always helped whenever you could think of problems, whether big or small, in your shared journey through Hell. She and Alastor both supported and loved you in all of your ways and plans, the latter having been what helped you rise to editor in chief at the Pentagram Daily and right hand to Zestial, who had gradually turned from boss to close friend to you.

Hell truly came alive for you.

Your focus moved to the townhouse itself. It was modest and tastefully furnished, with dark wood furniture and decor, a wooden plated kitchen filled with plants and the strange hellish shrubbery you grew accustomed to and green tiling on the bathroom floors and walls. The fireplace in the foyer was glowing with a healthy ember and flames, the heat engulfing you, as well as a vague hint of Alastor's signature smell that seemed to be oozing from everywhere.

"Why don't you come and have a seat, love. Let me take your things upstairs and then we'll have some coffee ready in a minute, hm?"

Alastor's hands left yours, and you didn't turn around as his presence receded. Your thoughts were so caught up in the beauty of the house, your pink claws traced and ran over the lines of the wood paneled wall. Alastor had never stayed at your apartment, an agreement and precaution he decided on even when you officially started dating, citing his moral code and the rules of courting he intended to follow. Where he filled the days, the nights were always spent alone, in your own home. The time spent together was full with discussions, talks and occasional killings, and yes, you'd also share more intimate moments - kisses, touches, even some serious fooling around. But he had always stopped, right before crossing the one final line. Your body had been a sanctuary, a sacred place which was not to be violated or disturbed, not even by him. And while you found it almost endearing, after a few years it made you crave finally taking the last step.

It's a funny thing, wanting and craving something with your full body and soul while at the same time, the actual act that would grant this wasn't something you ever thought you needed, in contrary. It had been a weapon, a tool for you to do what you did when you were alive and what earned you damnation in hell, as unfair as it was. Sex was one of the simplest concepts of mankind to corrupt, of course. And maybe this was the reason for Alastor never allowing both of you to crossing that line, too. Perhaps he would have, if it wasn't for him knowing where you came from - because he knew you used sex as a method of getting men to lower their guard, a means to an end.

Your train of thought was interrupted by a faint giggle, and you looked down. A small, wide-eyed cyclops girl stood before you, barely reaching your knees. She wore a dark red blouse with a red skirt, and a white apron covered the front. The demoness beamed up at you, grinning, her single eye framed by a magenta bob cut fixed to your face and hands clasped together.

"Alastor told me a lot about you, miss! I'm Niffty! Can you believe you actually exist? When Alastor first told me about you, I- well- ohh, this is SO EXCITING!! We'll be the best of friends, and we'll talk and you'll tell me ALL your stories and I will learn everything about them, so I won't forget anything and-"

She stopped herself as the sound of a throat being cleared was heard through the hall, and Alastors form, already half obscured in the shadows of the hall, stiffened.

"Niffty, you promised me to not be weird, my dear.", he tutted, glowering at her, one of his eyes twitching and his close-lipped smile tensed. You almost burst out laughing. It was always an endearing and utterly charming sight, when he got flustered or nervous. His discomfort always manifested itself in the twitch of his eyes or nose, or an unexpected flick of the wrist at something mundane and simple like this - and as silly as it may seem to others, Niffty's uncontainable energy, the utter wholesome enthusiasm and weirdness of hers that could get even the radio demon uncomfortable made you soft for the girl.

Your tail swished playfully as you grinned up towards Alastor and turned back to the exciteable demon before you.

"Ah, Alastor did tell me what a lovely companion you were, chèrie.", you told Niffty, a light purr entering your voice, which made her ears prick and her eye to light up, the singular black and yellow iris blown wide. You held out your hand to the maid and gave her a soft smile, tilting your head. "I'm sure we'll get along well together."

Nifftys small, clawed hand shot into yours as if it was on fire and you squeezed it with a slight force that made her squeal with glee. She shook your hand so rapidly you could barely register it, and her head was bopping up and down eagerly.

"Yes! Absolutely!!! I'll do anything, anything, anything!! We will get along perfectly! I'll make coffee, you drink coffee, right? And maybe some cookies!" She said in a hurry, her words and excitement blurring together, not even waiting for an answer but scurrying away to the kitchen. She was as hyper as a squirrel in a tree and equally adorable, and your grin widened with amusement at her enthusiasm.

"So, that's Niffty.", you mused, chuckling at his rather stiff and awkward posture.

"Oh, a dear child, without a doubt - a lovely, twisted little thing. It was fortunate that she met me.", he agreed. Alastor's ears flicked slightly as you came closer, his tone lowering once again. "Still, you must not underestimate her. If you'd see the things she does to the vermin around the house..." He laughed.

"Well, never mind that. You still have the second floor to inspect, darling. Shall we?"

He extended an arm, grinning, and with a raised brow and a hummed 'oooh, scandalous,' you hooked your elbow around his and let him drag you up the stairs with a short lived chuckle.

It didn't even take five seconds for your composure to crack once you saw the bedroom. Not because there was any hint of dubiousness to it, quite the contrary. Everything was nice and clean and sweet smelling, the windows were opened, allowing the fresh air from outside to gently blow into the room. The bed, an old, beautiful vintage piece of dark brown walnut furniture, had black satin sheets that seemed cool and smooth even to your eyes and there was a surprising number of soft pillows and blankets.

"This, I didn't think I'd need to mention... will be the only part of the house to be completely off-limits to young miss Niffty. Or anyone except for us, for that matter." He smiled at you with a most wicked grin as his shadow crept to the door, closing it shut.

Your body froze and your mind went blank and for a moment, you weren't able to think at all, just feel the burning of your body and the tingling of your skin. Oh, dear Satan. Slowly, his words really sank in, and the reality of their meaning dawned on you and tightened your grin.

He wanted the same as you. And it seemed he was finally ready to do something about it.

It was silly of you. So many people in hell fucked every day, in so many ways - whether because it was the nature of sin itself to be more perverse and vile than it could be in the living realm, or because there were so few taboos that remained in hell to keep up... and you were aware of your hypocrisy. A serial killer would definitely not be able to point fingers, let alone judge, others, you knew. But with him, it was different. At least to you it was. He wasn't some pervert. He had principles. Standards. Values.

Valuing you was one of those, and respecting and caring for you, as much as he respected himself. To him, sexuality, lust, any expression of this... had always had to be a conscious decision to be made with you, not some primal reflex forced upon you, if the time ever came.

And the knowledge that finally, that last boundary of your relationship, which, for the past nine years, had become so noticable and odd for others in its non-intimacy, was about to be breached, and his intention to cross it with you as explicit as it possibly could be, sparked a heat inside of you unlike any other kind of flame that has ever burnt your skin. Well, loin des yeux, près du cœur.

"Really, my dear? No remarks at all, not even a clever retort? Did I finally get the cat's tongue?", Alastor teased and you shivered at the way his eyes glazed over like a starved predator, his hungry gaze washing over your flushed, but now obviously and severely flustered face. He always said your flushing, especially when flustered, looked good on you. His large claws brushed down your shoulders and arms, leaving a hot trail in their wake and sending an all-out shiver of delight and anticipation down your spine.

"What a rare sight, you're absolutely adorable when shy."

"You are impossible...", you replied, slowly feeling the soft mattress hit the back of your thighs and the added support behind your back made you keenly aware of just how strong he was. One of the strongest, if not the strongest of all the overlords. And you loved his strength - when he ripped into the bodies of foolish sinners as when he now used it to lift you with ease, sit you down onto his bed, his palms resting on the pillows right besides your head.

"Do you really want to do this, cher?", your words were a breathy, yet rumbling whisper. Your black pupils blew wide, taking over the majority of the shades of magenta and pink and fuchsia.

Alastors grin grew wider at the sight of it, tilting his head as his knees pushed his body even higher, the bed creaking. The sound was familiar, comforting even. He settled above you, one hand slipping under your nape, softly lifting your face up to meet his and the cold claws on the tips of his fingers brushed against your heated skin, just like your icy claws ran down the column of his exposed throat, caressing the length of his neck down to the knot of his bow tie.

"Yes..." He hummed the word out low and long, an eager purr-growl that rumbled his chest and throat and made him grind his hips against yours. Your head fell back in bliss as his knee slotted in-between your legs and pressed, just right, against your crotch, with perfect pressure against the sensitive flesh. A whimper of his name tumbled past your lips, followed by a soft moan. You moved your leg upwards and ran it against his, just so, and his breath, too, came out a stuttering, gasping sigh. "Yes. My mind has been set on this matter for a long while."

His ears flicked again and you watched in rapt fascination as his antlers grew and eyes went darker. And without another word, your lips clashed together in a messy, passionate kiss that left your head reeling and your stomach dropping. Your hands pulled at the silken material of his tie, desperately fumbling with it in order to make it loose enough to allow him to breath as his own claws pressed into your thigh, possessive and demanding, leaving deep cuts in your long, flowy skirt.

A groan escaped your mouth, almost unrecognizable to you. So different from your usual smooth demeanor, so raw, wanton. A moan, loud and hoarse, that shook you with the power and force you put into it and reverberated through both of your bodies, tangled around each other, pressed together. Your vision swam before your eyes, his delicious scent filling your lungs. You drowned in his everything - his smell, the feeling of his weight pinning you down to the bed, his lips, moving against yours in a violent dance and his tongue, swirling around yours. He kissed the same way he hunted, taking no prisoners and leaving no escape - you could still taste traces of the coffee he drank before you arrived, it had been laced with bourbon, a drink you now craved in your blood, and needed inside of you.

In a faraway, dazed state of mind, a realization crossed your cloudy, hazy thoughts. There was no going back now, not that you wanted to, anyway. But now, everything between you and Alastor was going to be different. Unshackled. You were ready to cross that line, more than so, but now, after waiting and building that expectation for so long, there was an even bigger anticipation, so strong, even your arms were shaking, the black fabric of his harness brushing against the skin of your arms as he shrugged his overcoat off.

Every touch of him felt new, electrified by the knowledge and expectation of waht to come. His palm brushed over the thin fabric covering the skin of your stomach. His lips pulled from your swollen ones, tracing a path downwards. Down, towards your neck. Your ear. Your collarbone. Teeth grazed your soft, delicate flesh and his lips captured the skin his hands revealed as he undressed you.

You cried out, eyes tightly shut as he bit and kissed his way down the valley between the soft, malleable flesh of your breast, the heated muscle of your belly, his palms softly digging in the expanse of skin of your legs. His long, glowing, red claws traced the sensitive skin inside of your thighs.

You gasped, almost breathless at this point. So utterly overwhelmed by the sensations of it all, senses oddly heightened by the way he teasingly bit down onto the inside of your thigh - just where the cloth of the undergarments, his last barrier to reach your actual core, ended. The feeling of your own tail stroking over his back, in tandem with his claw cutting the cloth made your vision go white for a moment, the feather light touch making you tremble and breathe his name out like an unholy prayer, repeated over and over.

"So divine and yet so corrupted...", he mumbled against your heated skin, before he shoved one of the plush pillows under your arched back.

"So holy and yet so blasphemous..." you felt his breath cool on the wetness of your exposed folds, so, so close to what you needed, and felt his tongue, carefully, sliding along the folds of your quivering core, just an almost and not yet a finally in sweetest torture, his body a veil between you and the world.

"Only yours to offer...", his eyes shot to you, intense and hungry under his twisted antlers, awaiting your decision, and you nodded with baited breath at which he refocused on the slick heat before him, "...and only mine to take."

His tongue parted the lips, delving inside and licking a broad stroke between them, before the tip danced around your aching clit and just for a moment, you forgot how to even breath anymore, your mind blanking out for an endless, timeless, perfect second.

All you felt was bliss, the sheer pleasure washing over and drowning you in it, the all encompassing, fulfilling sensation of something you had not even dared to dream of was now your present reality and there was nothing else, nothing beside his tongue. A gasping whine filled the silence, breaking through the crescendo of white noise, a cry, a plea for more as his long, pointy, impossibly dexterous tongue lapped against and slipped inside of you, thrusting in and out with torturous drag.

Your hands curled tightly into the fabric beneath you, preventing yourself from bending like a hunting bow as he added not one, but two of his fingers. His rhythm was unforgiving and almost too intense, so perfect, with just enough change for the friction not to burn into an unsatisfactory numbness.

"Mmmh... I could live on the taste of you, love.", Alastor breathed the words against the inside of your thigh, before biting down into the skin with a possessive growl. His claws dug into the plush flesh of your hips, holding them up as blood dripped in heavy drops from the bite. He sucked and licked on the wound and the sight of him, macabre and beautifully latched onto you, was almost enough to make you come, fingers still working against your heat.

You were almost there, you could feel it in the way the muscles in your stomach clenched, the tightening coil deep within, the way your breath hitched and became quicker and shallower, the way you started to tremble, the feeling of pure pleasure and joy.

"Stop, amour. Please stop...", you panted, not wanting to come alone, not selfish enough to be serviced like this, the pleasure too good to end so soon without him in it. You gasped for air, forming the words in your head.

His head whipped upwards, his glowing red eyes narrowed in concern, but you just smiled at him in reassurance, face hot and body sticky to the touch. "Réclamez-moi entièrement pour que nous puissions atteindre la fin ensemble...", you pleaded.

Alastor understood your words perfectly and his eyes widened. He took a shaky breath, before he chuckled and rose up, ripping his dress shirt along with the black harness away and revealing the expanse of his torso, the muscles, the soft fur, the countless scars. His belt came loose, his slacks fell to the ground, kicked away. He was magnificent when dressed - But he was unearthly beautiful when naked, every inch of him on display and for you to devour.

The tip of his member brushed against the slick opening of your core, making you whine.

"Always the one to choose a draw, darling."

Your hands reached for him, pulling him on top of you, the heat of his naked skin pressing onto you. He felt so wonderful, his hair falling forward, covering the side of his face, his breath tickling your nose. He leaned down, the tip of his nose brushing against yours, and your eyes fluttered close.

"You know I always prefer to lose if it's a win for both of us in the end, mon cerf..."

Alastor's lips captured yours again and his tongue entered, claiming and dominating the kiss in the same moment he pushed his hips into you, sheathing himself fully. He felt so, so much bigger than he looked, the stretch a delectable pain, an utterly delightful kind of burn. Your walls stretched around him, trying to adjust and get used to the feeling. It was almost overwhelming, how perfect he fit into you, how his thick, throbbing length brushed against that sweet spot inside of you, his girth stretching and filling you to the brim.

You both groaned, his head dropping forward as his hips rolled and he started to move. Slow, shallow thrusts, testing the waters. He pulled out, almost all the way, before rolling back in and setting a slow, savoring pace, dragging his hips just so to make his cock brush against your most sensitive spots.

Your hands grabbed his shoulders, your claws digging into them until you drew blood. With a growl, Alastor picked you up, letting himself fall back into a sitting position and pulled you upright on his lap. Equals, both able to be in control, both dependent on the other. Connected, not just by your cores, but also by your eyes you sat still for a moment. He was inside of you, and you had never felt this complete. He was a part of you, and the feeling was intoxicating, addictive, all consuming.

And then, he started to move you. Alastor let his head fall into the crook of your neck, whispering your name against your throat and you cried his out aloud, his claws digging into your hips and moving them, lifting them and pushing them down in a growing rhythm, matching his own eager movements, the drag of his cock inside of you utterly divine. You rolled your hips, chasing the feeling of him, while your own claws painted red lines on his back. You tasted blood, your canines biting your lip so hard it opened the delicate skin, and on a whim you nudged his head up to share it with him. He moaned, tasting the metallic fluid on your tongue, and it was enough to drive you both over the edge.

He spent himself inside of you with a hoarse growl, the hot, sticky fluid painting your insides as he wrapped his arms around you to press you even deeper into him, the sensation alone enough to make your head spin and your eyes water with hot tears. Your own high followed, you were desperate to sink your teeth in something, so you latched onto his neck, biting down as your walls tightened around his still twitching cock, milking it dry and coating him with the proof of your mutual ecstasy.

For a while, all either of you did was pant, breathing deeply, trying to collect yourselves and regain any kind of composure. Your eyes were still closed, but you could feel the slight movement of his chest, the beat of his heart under your palms that rested on his chest, your teeth still deep in his skin. You couldn't bear to let go, fearing the loss of his skin on your lips, but his hands came up to your face and gently pulled you away.

A small chuckle left his lips as he looked at you. His face was smeared red with the residue of your blood, and you might as well must've looked the same, coated in his.

"Now, isn't this the best way to christen a new bed? The unholy trinity: Blood, sweat and tears."

You laughed, the sound of it a little weak and a bit hoarse.

"You didn't happen to buy a new couch, too?", you asked, voice playful and low.

"Oh, I certainly do plan on it now, darling. I'm thinking of refurnishing the whole damn house." He grinned at you, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips, and it was impossible not to mirror his impish grin.

A rattle on the doorknob made both of you snap your heads to the entrance of your bedroom. In an instant, you made yourself - and to your delight, Alastor, still sheathed in you, too - invisible, just in time before Niffty broke through the door, in a loud bickering fight with Alastor's shadow.

"....and the coffee is getting cold if they.... oh, they're not here. Why didn't you tell me they're not here? Oh, maybe they are searching for me, maybe I should go look for them? Maybe they're downstairs, or in the garden? Oh no, wait, maybe they're on the roof? No, no, no, maybe..."

She rambled as she ran back down, and with a giggle you made both of you visible again.

" 'Completely off-limits to young miss Niffty' you say?", you grinned at him, a sadistic smile on your lips as you leaned in to kiss the small wounds on his neck.

"I also said to not underestimate her...", he sighed, commanding his shadow with his hand to close the door once more. And this time, with a poignant look and glowing red eyes, to lock it up.

Translations: loin des yeux, près du cœur - absence makes the heart grow fonder Réclamez-moi entièrement pour que nous puissions atteindre la fin ensemble... - Claim me fully so we can reach the end together…

[fanfic-obsessed]

Failing to Thrive then Thriving in failure

I just had the funniest notion. Time travel comedy, but the twist is that Palpatine is the one to go back in time. 

So we start just after Kenobi, Palpatine has been emperor for about a decade, he succeeded. The Sith plan is complete, he has everything he had dreamed of and worked toward for a decade…and he is so bored. He never realized that 90% of his joy actually came from pretending to be a benevolent Chancellor and the intrigue of fooling people.  Now he has shown his true colors and could not go back to pretending (it simply would not work). Being the Sith in charge is not as fun as he thought it would be. Even getting to openly torture people has lost its appeal after 10 years.

It’s ok for Vader. For one Vader was never interested in those intrigues in the first place. For two 45% of Vader brain is taken up by trying to resurrect Padme Amidala, 50% is taken up by Obi Wan Kenobi (Palpatine is not sure if Vader wants to kill Kenobi, Kriff Kenobi, make Kenobi tuck Vader in every night and tell him is it going to be alright, Force Kenobi to help Vader resurrected Padme, or make sure Kenobi is eating, taking care of himself, and has a good enough blanket), leaving only 5% for everything else.  

Frankly if this is what Kenobi had to deal with before the war, Palpatine is somewhat impressed he got anything done.

Vader isn’t bored. Palpatine’s assorted lesser minions are not bored, they are living the dream of being as bigoted as their little fascist hearts desire. But Palpatine just could not find joy any longer. 

I do want it clear. Palpatine is not repentant. He does not regret the deaths that he caused, the genocide, the enslavement, any of it. He’s just bored. 

One day Palpatine finds a book, or maybe an artifact, or possibly a scrap of paper with an archaic formula. The title roughly translates to ‘Sith Master Time Travel’ (Listen The Son was also very bored, and being outside of Space Time meant He wanted to see what would happen). Palpatine is able to time travel, but only as far back as when he became a Sith Master. It was also a one time deal, he would not be able to use the method again AND it would destroy his origin timeline (not that that actually factored into Palpatine’s decision at all).  Not to mention he would essentially be possessing and killing his previous, alternate timeline self. 

Of course Palpatine time travels. He goes all the way back to the moment he became the Sith Master (it turns out the Sith titles are not just titles), looking at the still warm corpse of Hugo Damask, just as the Naboo crisis is wrapping up. 

Now Palpatine had already decided to do some things differently.  At first he was still working outward the Grand Sith Plan, if trying to keep his ‘Kindly Politician’ mask a bit longer, however he has decided that instead of Vader (or possibly in addition to Vader, if things get boring again) he will get Obi Wan Kenobi as his apprentice, figuring that there must have been a reason that every Sith Apprentice for 20 years ends up obsessed with the man (also because he thinks it would be funny to corrupt the Jedi’s ‘Guiding Light’). Dooku and all the pieces needed to start the Clone wars are already mostly in place. It is just a matter of maintaining until the clones are the right age.  So he does what he needs to to maintain the Empire building plans and decides to focus on corrupting Obi Wan. 

He fails, utterly. He fails so fully that Obi Wan did not even notice his attempts at corruption. Like he knew it would take time to corrupt a Jedi, he had done before after all, but he still expected at least a little change within the first year. There was nothing. 

And it was not a case of Obi Wan not trusting Palpatine. This is still a decade before the war. Obi Wan is a grieving, freshly knighted,  trying to keep up with a nine year old with somewhat unique trauma. Palpatine knows how to get Obi Wan to feel comfortable and trust him (Palpatine probably knows too well how to get Obi wan to feel comfortable and trust him, between Dooku and Vader). Obi Wan is just, for a given value, incorruptible. 

Now Palpatine’s obsession switch has been flipped. He went into it thinking that corrupting Obi Wan would be a fun side project, a way to pass the time.  He was wrong.  He knows from the previous timeline that torture would not be effective (Listen if the torture mask specifically built to corrupt lightsiders did not make a dent after a month it is pretty well proven that torture will not cause Kenobi to fall, Palpatine knows this) nor would killing Kenobi’s loved work (again, if it didn’t last time we have some pretty concrete proof). 

So now we have Palpatine trying every method he can think of to seduce Kenobi the darkside, always just shy of admitting to being a Sith or being creepy. To the point that he has actually forgotten the Empire building he was doing. He kind of even forgets to be Sidious.  He almost ghosts Dooku, before he remembers that Dooku is Kenobi’s grandfather(that is not the correct term, Dooku tries to correct Palpatine an even dozen times before giving up) and gets Dooku involved in the corruption that is STILL. GOING. NOWHERE.

Dooku basically becomes Grandpa Dooku to both Obi Wan and Anakin, and falls back into the Light while trying unsuccessfully to corrupt Obi Wan to the Dark. Due to darkside vow complications (also because I think it would be really funny) Dooku is not able to say, imply, or otherwise do anything to make the Jedi suspicious that Palaptine is a Sith. Also, to a certain extent he thinks that as long as Palpatine is focused on corrupting his incorruptible grandson, the other Sith is not thinking about galactic domination (To be fair he is correct).  

Palpatine spends most of his time trying to corrupt Obi Wan, while keeping up the act used to maintain Obi Wan’s trust. The thing is Palpatine is fully aware that Anakin in the original timeline was about observant as a particularly dense brick wall and would not have realized that the persona of ‘My friend Palaptine’ did not match the reality of ‘My pal Friendpatine’. Obi Wan would realize if his act was not consistent. 

So Palpatine decided to keep the act up 24/7.  And everyone knows that your actions become your habits become your personality. 

Somewhere in year 8 Palpatine forgets how to Sith. 

Technically he is still a darksider but not the extra layer of fucked up that comes from being an actual Sith. And he still has not even made a dent in Obi Wan’s light. He has also, almost single handedly, derailed the war that had been brewing and fixed about 40% of the corruption in the Senate.  All without killing a single senator.

Palpatine spends most of his time very confused. 

Palpatine lets his term as Chancellor end, having gone down in history as one of the most beloved Chancellors in history.  The Clones are found and mostly are inducted as an arm of the Jedi Order. Jango Fett is given a metric ton of therapy, which helps him see that the Jedi were not actually at fault for Galidraan (Jango had, in fact, been the person to escalate things to violence) before he is allowed to take Boba back into the galaxy. By that point the Clones want little to do with him. 

For the rest of his life Palpatine tries, unsuccessfully, to corrupt Obi Wan (who never noticed). At this point he is genuinely friends with a number of Jedi (He and Mace Windu have a surprising amount in common, including a love of the theater and a mild exasperation for Anakin Skywalker's antics). He is an honored guest at both the CodyWan and the Anidala Weddings (including a Jedi based wedding ceremony).

Honestly he is having the most fun of his life. 

He is also never caught as a darksider. He never figures out how that is possible either.

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

what would they look like as villains? I know that some have canonical versions, but I would like to see your intropritation (let's be honest, for most - the evil alterego is an exact copy, but only with a slightly modified color palette and frowning eyebrows)

(I'm sorry for my English)

oh, this was a wonderful ask to get on the eve of spooky month ;D im not god at villain (re)design but it was a fun thinking exercise! (also im assuming you were asking about HoMies xD so)

I mean, there is only so much one can do to remake protagonists into villains and yet still have them remain recognizable, so no wonder evil!versions often are just recolor/frowny sort, but I tried my best to be creative ;D

(and your english is alright! no worries)

also while you can imagine them being as villanous as you want in these designs, there are some little blurbs/backstories i made up for myself as I tried to design them, if you are interested (they are various shades of dark, since you know, tragic backstory and all that lol):

Kim Possible - Hero for Hire turned Mercenary for Money - Kim is widely known for her profeciency in hand-to-hand and quick thinking when on the jobs, but one time something went terribly wrong. Maybe client info was unreliable, or a freak accident, but as the result both Kim and Ron got hurt, leaving Ron in a hospital permanently, and Kim with scars and trauma. After that the girl who worked on favors and rides lost her trust/belief in goodness of people, becoming jaded by reality of a job she accidently found herself in. Kim changed into someone very cold and calculated, someone who started taking jobs that required using serious weapons instead of gadgets, and more importantly getting paid, so she could support her best friend (who is in coma and thus unable to influence this downwards spiral Kim find herself in).

(in contrast to canon!Kim's free flowing hair, she ties it back in order to never be distracted in crucial moment. has a lot of new scars due to more dangerous jobs. i still cant decide if she kills with her weapons or not, but she certainly learned to hurt people. also a very complicated relationship with Shego, since Kim is also a mercenary now, but Shego still remembers that girl she was and is conflicted about this new Kim)

Danny Fenton/Phantom - Ghostly Hero turned Ice Prince - s3e6 Urban Jungle turned out differently, when in the end, defeating Undergrowth, meant also hurting everyone he had been connected to at that moment (level of hurt depends on your preference for angst i guess lol), but anyway, Danny horrified by what he have done (and with memory of Dan still haunting him), still technically unstable with his Ice Powers, flees back into the Ghost Zone to the one place he knows he won't be able to hurt anyone. Sequestering himself in the Far Frozen, he goes full Elsa, and become a remote Ice Prince, that even Far Frozen Yetis are still nervous around, with his only contact being Frostbite. Slowly he wastes away, freezing from his powers not only physically but also like emotionally.

(fun (?) tidbit: fur on his new snow cape/coat is from yetis, unfortunate to wander too close to ice prince. so there are a bunch of partially bald yetis in far frozen lol. Danny is constantly covered in bits of ice and frost, since his ice powers are unstable due to emotional damage. Danny's crown is not a conscious choice, but rather a manifestation of Far Frozen starting to bond with Danny's ice core to become his lair and also sort of recognizing Danny as future Ghost King.)

Jake Long - American Dragon Guardian turned Corrupted by Dark Magic Dragon - Series Finale The Hong Kong Longs, ended differently, when Dark Dragon left a parting shot before he was inprisoned for another Millennium. Since meeting Jake, Dark Dragon has been interested in aquiring him as minion/apprentice(?), and had been steadily trying to sway him to his side. But as he lost he made a last ditch attempt, infecting Jake with Dark Magic. As the result, Jake now cannot control his Dragon Form, being steadily consummed by the Darkness and turning more Draconic as time passes, until he will become full Dragon all the time and under the thrall of Darkness. The change is harsh and as the result Jake falls into violent moments during which he hurt his loved ones that fight to keep him from changing. In one of his more lucid moments, Jake flees to hide away in order not to hurt anyone.

(it seems an interesting thought to expand on the possiblity that the Dragon form can overwhelm the human part and that it would associate with dark magic to succumb to its baser instincts, and also would be a great opening to all those wonderful draconic fan headcanons fandom made about Jake lol)

Ben Tennyson - Hero Wielder of Omnitrix turned Corrupted/Hacked Ultimatrix Unstable User - During Alien Force Ben tried multiple times to hack/meddle with Omnitrix settings, and when he continuously tried the same with Ultimatrix in Ultimate Alien, something has gone wrong. Ultimatrix has bonded deep into Ben's DNA and body, and now every change is felt acutely, not to mention the alien perceptions are now unfiltered and Ben recieves the raw experience of being a different speices/state. It comes to a point when it start to mess with his mind, only made worse by Dagon's reemergence and all the enemies. In the final showdown of Ultimate Enemy goes differently, how? no idea (again depends on your preference level of angst lol). But as the result, Ben, unstable and a little crazy, is on the run with his corrupted Ultimatrix, his reputation in tatters and is considered dangerous by Plumbers.

(i had a little extra idea of Omniverse continuation, where new Plumber Rook Blonko, now has to hunt his hero turned crazy tragic villain Ben Tennyson. Very emotional and angsty (and a bit gay lol), where Rook continuously trying to unsuccessfully catch crazy Ben and convince him to let Azimuth and plumbers to help him.)

Juniper Lee - Youngest Te Xuan Zhe turned Corrupted/Fallen Te Xuan Zhe - in this case in Out of the Past, what Ah-Mah Jasmine feared about Fallen Te Xuan Zhe Kay Yee managing to corrupt Jun has sort of came to pass. After defeating Kai Yee, being touched by the overwhelming power of Magical Elders has left its mark on Jun, as well as Kai Yee's words and Jasmine's initial fear about/distrust in Jun (she is like 11-12 people, it would FUCK HER UP MENTALLY???). As Jun goes through her rebellious teen phase, the unfairness of her trapped position as protector and the demands of it, grates on her more and more, and she finds refuge in studying magic. As the result, her magical ability grows and as her desire for freedom, and the smallest seed of corruption from the events of Out of the Past grow too. So in the end, Jun learns magic to wield it , like Kai Yee, but unlike Kai Yee, not just for battle, but for personal goal of freeing herself and any future Te Xuan Zhe of her family line.

(fun tidbit, Jun doesn't continue to dye her hair pink, instead she uses blood from battle ;D morbid i know but i couldnt help it i like the imagery of her passing her bloody hands through the white part to paint it. she has lightning scars all over her body, that appear only when she uses magic - a manifestation of her brush with orb of magic elders.)

Rex Salazar - Last Hope Against EVO turned Contained and Controlled Weapon of Providence - Rex's return 6 months after Breach transported him and his introduction to Black Knight goes very differently. Instead of prolonged mind games, Black Knight just imprisons Rex pretty much right away while he is vulnerable, content to attempt to trigger Rex's amnesia ad use the mind-control collar, to turn him into her mindless weapon. She was sorta successful? But with Ceaser on the inside, he managed, with the help of Six and Holiday, to free Rex, even if it was too late to save his mind. As the result, whatever reeducation Rex suffered from Black Knights left him instinctively reacting with force and in defense. The whole last part of the season goes very differently in this state, and the finale also ends differently, with Rex, overwhelmed with power of Omega Nanite (God) but in no mind to actually control it. So in the end he is forced to be contained as his friends and family try to figure out how to save him.

(the angst of mind-controlled Rex is something I enjoy, but since he canonically is immune to it, the idea of an induced amnesiac episode seemed like a best bet for this one, but with like double the angst since Six&Holiday would have to struggle not only with Rex being turned into amind-controlled weapon but also him not knowing them)

Randy Cunningham - Chosen Norrisvile Ninja turned Disgraced/Fallen Ex-Ninja - relatively early in his career, after accidently releasing Tengu and Howard getting possesed by it, Randy makes an ultimate sacrifice by burning the Ninja Mask in order to defeat Tengu. However, he didn't expect that Tengu-possesed Howard to be sealed away together and the Ninja title being taken away from him for his reckless (even if noble) decision. Frantic, because he lost two important parts of his life, his best friend and heroic purpose, Randy tries to get the reborn mask back, but it, along with the Ninjanomicon were spirited away by the Messenger to pass on to another candidate. And thus starts Randy's panicked downward spiral and frantic attempts to get back the mask in order to free Howard. Since he still has his memories, Randy trains to become a better fighter. He knows he has to fight the new ninja for the mask, since he believes the Ninjanomicon would advice strongly against New Ninja helping Randy free Howard. In school He becomes known as resident outcast with bad reputation who lost his best friend under suspicious circumstances, and magical underbelly of Norrisville another antagonist for the Ninja to battle. However he still retains an odd sense of honor about Ninja (because he was one) so when opportunities to team up with Sorcerer, McFist, Sorcereress come up, he either ignores them or uses them for his own goal. The closest thing to hit home for him was when Mac Antfee also tried to get mask back, but for his own selfish purposes unlike Randy, well, lets just say Randy was pissed.

(i feel bad since i practically nipped Randy's career right on the bud, unlike others, but this one felt like a good turning villain opportunity unlike season finale. also! the idea of Randy beng an antagonist to the next ninja, while struggling with his own goodness and desire to save Howard is incredibly interesting to me lol. also he got scars from Tengu)

Zak Saturday - Heroic Fighter for Cryptids turned Cryptid Kur re-Reborn - the last episode, where Argost took powers of Kur and subsequently Zak died for about 3 minutes, Zak didn't reawaken unscathed. Kur is not only powers to control Cryptids, it was a person once, and after Zak died and was ressurected, a part of Kur has come forth, because some part of Zak has been lost in his death. A changed Zak Saturday worries his family, with him being quiet and introspective, not to mention pale/golden eyed and slightly zombie-like from his brush with death. Inside, parts of Zak the Kid and Kur the Olden Cryptid mesh and mix, leaving this new Zak struggling with who he is. As time passes however, Zak the Kid is slowly loosing the battle with a much more powerful older part of the soul of Kur (it wouldnt normally happen but Zak the Kid lost a significant part of his spirit when he died, which was filled with Kur) slowly regain his abilities (like in TGAS). At some point a change happens, and Zak retreats from his family, starting to wander the world as two parts of him struggle for dominance.

(fun tidbit! Zak's outfit is the same from his future vision of him overtaking the world as Kur, it seemed approrpiate lol. Also for some reason I kept thinking of Van Kleiss (from Generator Rex) when designing evil!Zak. they kinda have the same vibe)

Jenny XJ-9 Wakeman - Robotic Hero of Earth turned Robotic Overlord - this is a bit of mixed influences from different points: in season finale Dr. Locust turns Dr. Wakeman's creation against her; Jenny's Older Brother Armagedroid; Vexus attempt to sway Jenny to her fellow robots side; the whole year where Jenny was mind-controlled by a bratty kid and everyone feared her and even her mother planned to create a new XJ-10 in order to defeat her; and also a bit random but that one time Jenny pretended to be a villain Ruby Rocket (hence the red color scheme with bits of Armagedroid/Cluster designs). I have a bit less clear timeline for this, but lets just say its gradual and that at some point a lot of manipulations Jenny suffered turned her against humanity and their use of her robotic brethern. While she does not desire to destroy humanity like her brother, she certainly lost her trust in it, and after a manipulation one time too many, she snaps, turns into a leveled up version of Ruby Rocket/Anti-hero persona, she takes her sisters and leaves to Cluster, where Vega welcomes her. Jenny still protects Earth, but admittingly from afar and in a more evil way I guess?? She loves her mother, but she struggles with Dr Wakeman's previous disregard of her siblings and just callous regard to her creations (Wakeman can be cold/serious/to-the point, without Jenny constantly reminding her that she wants to be like a normal girl).

(Jenny was the hardest, because I couldnt find a clear point of turning in the series for her, so I decided to go with gradual change of mind about humanity sort of deal.)

oof this turned a bit long lol, thank you anyone who read through this clusterfuck! As you can see i sort of went with 'Were a Hero - tragically turned Anti-Hero due to circumstances' kind of vibe, since Im just unable to imagine these guys be like trully horrible evil villains (and this way is more angsty, since, like Fallen Heroes and all that). Im not that creative lol. Anyway, i hope you were as entertained as i was when creating this haha ;D

[chlorinecake]

“convenient chances” 🎱

summary: Your obsessive ex-boyfriend Jay Park goes to extreme measures to ensure that you submit to his ruthless control, and with your body weakening with each pitiful day that passes, you’re not sure how much longer you’ll be able to put up a fight…

pairing: Stalker! Yandere! Enhypen x Fem! Reader

contains: Suggestive, Non-con Kissing and Touching, Degrading Nicknames (crybaby, play thing, etc), Mentions of Self-harm and Other Violent Themes, Heavy Angst

word count: 5.3k -> previously . . .

YOUR BODY WAS fully awake, but your mind needed a moment to catch up.

The feeling of moist soil on your scalp somehow helped to comfort your body’s soreness as you laid down in the shallow ditch of dirt which was inevitably dubbed as your bed last night…

You could hardly push past the pain in your tired eyes, having cried yourself to sleep and back awake more times than you could count while meddling about with only one emotion coursing through your starved out veins:

Despair.

Not in the sense that you were ready to forfeit your role in this one against seven battle, but you worried your body could only take so much more of their combined insanity before giving up…

Just to let Jay claim you as his noble prize in this one-sided race for a twisted love—

Pat, pat, pat.

Your ears keened in on the sounds of nature surrounding you, eyes lazily opening up again as sprinkles of dry earth kissed your forehead, followed by more pats from above.

But the pats came with friends, the sounds now becoming more layered, louder as they approached the rim of the steep hole.

It was them.

The six goons, excluding their crookedly righteous leader who to this day leaves you baffled as to why you even dated him in the first place.

If only he wasn’t so good at pretending…

Pretending like everything was normal and that your past relationship with him was somehow reconcilable.

Your vision was still a bit cloudy given the poor lighting provided by the hardly risen sun and surrounding forestry, however you could still make out each boy's face as they stared back down at you. Jake, the nicer one, slowly guided a rope down to meet you.

“Can’t imagine you got much sleep down there, did ya’ cutie?” Heeseung’s voice started, stinging your soul like venom as he cooed at you with pouty lips from above, “don’t worry, I’ll give you a good morning kiss once we get you outta there…”

What a raging creep.

“This isn’t gonna be easy, but the only way to get you back up here is if you climb…”

Wow. He almost sounded like he cared about you when he said that.

Almost...

“C’mon, we threw you in a ditch, not a fucking volcano,” the tallest one grumbled impatiently, annoyed by your seemingly feeble demeanor.

“Niki,” Sunghoon scolded sternly, the younger boy shrugging in defense, “don't encourage her to resist us, alright?”

Jay must've been too busy to come and get you himself today, given all the work obligations and tasks he had lined up for the week.

So unfortunately, as if your luck could get any worse, you'd have to deal with his violent clan of minions until he got back.

Jake gave the rope a little shake to draw your attention back to it, your eyes having wandered off for a second in thought.

These boys were capable of the darkest evil's, but you knew it'd be better to comply than give 'em a hard time right now.

“Atta girl,” Jake smiled, watching as you stood up on wobbly legs before making your way to the dangling rope, “take your time coming up...”

Someway, somehow, you managed to climb up the rope, despite the dizziness clouding your mind on the way there.

Jungwon greeted you with a half-friendly expression, pulling you out of the ditch the rest of the way with a strong hand.

You honestly struggled a bit to stand up properly on your own, given how long your legs had been idle for, so Heeseung took it upon himself to carry you.

All the way to the nearby van, whose black exterior sent chills down your spine, despite how inviting the morning sunrise looked while casting upon it.

“Look at you,” Heeseung cooed, eyes scanning the fresh scar tracing the back of your hand as you clung to his shoulder for support, “so vulnerable and fragile...”

He took your hand and pressed a kiss to the flesh there, but you couldn't be bothered to pull away from him, thinking in your mind that you had to seem submissive.

You had to escape.

And tricking them seemed to be one of the few options you had left, especially with Mandy out of the picture.

Yes, you felt weak, but nowhere near as much as you were gonna pretend to be.

You were always a fighter, and you didn't plan to give up just yet, no matter how many times you'd have to get up just to fall back down again.

Sunoo held the car door open for Heeseung to help you get in, the rest of the boys already loading themselves into the vehicle at either side.

The sound of dirt stalling the trucks tires filled your ears before Sunghoon slammed his foot on the gas, forcing the car out of its mossy patch.

The trail back up was rocky, which made Niki reach an arm over to keep you in place as you kept wobbling in your seat.

You knew it wasn't because he actually cared for your safety, especially not with the bitter look plastered over his features.

“Since when did you get employed as a human seatbelt?” Jungwon asked with furrowed eyes, confused by Niki's behavior.

“Just trying to keep Jay's play thing safe,” he smiled facetiously, just as his eyes turned up to a tear in the roof, or more accurately, an empty slot where a seatbelt once was… “since you overgrown fuck-nuts like horsing around in here...”

BY NOW, THE car drive was nearing its end, human civilization barely coming into view through the dark tinted windows.

Sunghoon's eyes were trained on the road ahead as he started to speak, “So... we don't have many options for breakfast, but given how hungry you are, I'm sure you won't be picky...”

He pulled into the drive-thru of a nearby fast-food restaurant, the scent of deep-fried breakfast foods infiltrating the cold air behind the truck windows.

Meanwhile, your mind was stuck on Niki's mentioning of the broken seatbelt earlier, simply because no seatbelt meant no restraints, and ultimately, nothing was holding you back.

Truly, what you were plotting to do next was quite obviously a very bad idea... but, with the little strength you had left, you decided to push through anyways.

Literally.

Slam.

You pushed passed Niki and slung open the car door, slamming it behind you just as Niki’s hand barely grazed your arm, cursing to himself as you took off into the morning fog.

Thud, thud, thud.

Your sneaker-clad feet hit the pavement with harsh steps as you ran off into the opposite direction of the boys, treading as far as your dry bones could take you.

With your heart pounding like a drum in your chest and your eyes glued straight ahead, you knew looking back would only slow you down.

That’s when you noticed the parking lot was completely empty, which meant that no bystanders were present once Heeseung’s long legs eventually caught up to you, grabbing your shoulder to halt your tracks, right before leaving a slap clean across your face.

You fell to the ground, scuffing your elbow in the collision with a now busted-lip complimenting your dark under eyes.

“Pretty energetic to say you’re running on an empty stomach, aren't you, baby face?” He pressed with aggression, taking your jaw in his fierce grip to make you look up at him, “What? Too scared to talk now that I’m being rough with you?”

All you did was wince at his words, the adrenaline boiling in your chest only increasing with fear as the rest of the goof-troop approached the scene.

“Aww… you scared her into silence,” Sunghoon pouted while kneeling down to meet where you sat, “what’re we gonna tell Jay about her sudden case of muteness, Heeseung?”

“Hmm... I can think of plenty ways to force some pretty sounds out of that mouth of hers,” the eldest grinned, releasing your chin only to grip your hair this time, pulling you back with force.

“Ahckk,” you groaned in pain, gripping his arm in an attempt to keep your sounds in, but he was already snickering at you, noticing the rosy red bruise raising to your skin from how hard he slapped you earlier.

“Oh?” he cooed, tilting his head as he spoke… “I didn’t mean to hurt you, ____,” he whispered sarcastically before his lips met the sore part of your face...

“Let me make it feel better.”

Heeseung's lips moved lower down your neck as his grip on you only tightened, his rough teeth grazing the surface of your skin before pinching down on it, all while the most satisfying smirk stained his features.

Damned if I do, damned if I don’t, a voice in your head reminded as your brain returned to reality, brushing off the wild scenario you'd just came up with.

“That’ll be it, thank you,” Jungwon said to the lady over the drive-thru speaker as Sunghoon pulled up to the next window.

“What’s on your mind?” Niki asked, noticing the way you became quiet all of a sudden, your previously shaky breaths settling to a near inaudible decibel.

“N-nothing… just a little tired I guess,” you stuttered, not meeting his nightmare-like eyes to which only made him hum in response.

“Welp, I hope you like coffee, because Jay has something special planned for you two later, and you wouldn’t wanna show up all drowsy like this...”

You had known Jay long enough by now to know that something special was code for a disaster in the making—

“____ loves coffee,” Sunoo blurted out in a nonchalant tone, “I used to buy her five cans every weekday from the convenience store to keep her stocked for the whole work week...”

Until I switched to banana milk, you thought to yourself, a tiny smile rising to your features at the wholesome memory.

Sunoo’s gentle voice trailed off as he hung his head low, the boys looking at him in confusion at his sudden comment.

You sulked quietly; Sunoo had became so cold towards you since the day you scolded him after he betrayed your friendship for Jay... so much had happened since then that you almost forgot how close you and Sunoo used to be before all this…

“God, I don’t know why I even said that,” he cursed himself with a sigh, looking out the window to avoid their judgmental looks.

“It’s uh… it’s fine buddy, just… pass me us a twenty please,” Heeseung continued, Sunoo pulling out a $20 bill and passing it to Jake to pay for the food.

“Have a good day,” the cashier said with a forcefully chipper voice, Sunghoon already driving off as her final words were cut off by the sound of the truck engine.

He took another short path that led to a gas station nearby, letting Jungwon, Sunoo, Niki, and himself take you inside the corner-store to eat while the rest stayed back to pump gas and shit-talk.

The shop resembled one you might see in an apocalyptic video game, the food-stained tables and flickering ceiling lights only adding to the unsettling aura.

That's when the wall-mounted TV, just a few inches beside the glass entry doors, broadcasted a live news report featuring a woman by the name of Mandy Reeves.

You felt part of your soul descend at the mere mentioning of her name as the scratchy-voiced newswoman began to report from the speakers...

“62 year old Goldman's 24-Hour Convenience Store worker Mandy Reeves was reportedly found tied up with a rope and non-responsive in the establishment’s storage room around midnight. While Ms. Reeves is in better condition now, authorities have concluded that this attack was from within. Here’s what Mandy had to say concerning the incident.”

“Oh my God,” you said louder than necessary, eyes wanting to brim with tears until you noticed the equally worried looks on the four boy's faces, but of course, the five of you had pretty different reasons for looking that way.

“This is Sydney Baker with ENN News… Ms. Reeves, can you please share an account of what you remember most from your attack last night?” the reporter interrogated with a fat microphone in her hand.

From what you could tell, Mandy still seemed pretty shaken up about what happened, even from the blurry TV screen.

You couldn't help but feel guilty after sending her through all that, knowing she was the type of person to stand up for someone even if it meant she'd end up getting hurt, too.

“I… all I remember was a bunch of boys… T-too many of them to count, but they all looked like trouble from the moment they walked in the store,” Mandy stuttered before the camera, eyes wandering all over the place with her gray mane an utter mess on her head.

“And what did you say about another girl earlier? Did she assist the attackers?” The reporter asked back.

“NO! No, not at all... she was the one in danger! I... I-I can’t remember her name, but she’s a good friend to me… always stopped ‘round the shop at night… treated me like I was her own mother…”

“But the attackers, ma’am. Are you genuinely sure this wasn’t some kind of set up?”

“One of those buck-crazy hooligans were in an abusive relationship with her! His name was… Jay… s-something like that… he must’ve built up some kinda gang to get her back.”

“Ma’am, you said earlier that your memory is a bit foggy… are you certain the information you’re sharing with us is accurate?”

“Yes, this all happened before they jumped me… that girl… she’s been hiding from him for over four months now I believe… my guess is that he finally caught up to her... I went to call the police and—”

“Thank you for your cooperation, Miss Mandy, but we’re running low on time… once again this is Sydney Baker reporting live from Goldman's 24-Hour Convenience Store. Back to you, James...”

The reporters voice faded into the background as Niki and Jungwon made direct eye contact with each other, looking at Sunoo next who sat with a worried expression on his face.

“That old fucking bitch-”

“Niki, chill out, alright?” Jungwon interrupted, standing up from the table to gather your food and trash.

“Hey, I was still eating that,” you complained, taking one last sip of your drink before he snatched that from you too.

“Tough because we’re leaving,” Sunghoon said sternly before aggressively hooking your arms in his, despite how gentle he wanted it to seem to anyone looking.

“She thinks this shit is funny,” Niki scoffed, opening the gas station door for Sunghoon to lead you back to the car, “just look at the way she’s beaming right now…”

“My 'beaming' has nothing to do with you assholes getting busted for not covering your tracks properly, but everything to do with your actual response to the news,” you corrected, feet struggling to keep up with Sunghoon’s fast-paced walking as his hold on your arm fastened, “you all should be scared...”

“Interesting comment coming from you,” Jungwon retorted, right before calling out to his hyung’s ahead of him, “we gotta get her outta here as soon as possible.”

“What happened?” Heeseung asked first, considering how fast you guys came back.

Jake had just finished pumping the gas when you all reached the car, disgruntled looks on the three boy's faces as Sunghoon began to explain what happened.

“We were on TV,” Sunghoon said, opening the back door of the truck and practically shoving you in, “that old chick gave the cops a name, too…”

Heeseung's eyebrows furrowed at his friends words, “I... I don’t understand, what’re you guys saying?”

“We don’t know much yet, but someone found Mandy last night and she spilled as many beans as she possibly could,” Niki spat somewhere in between, all of them getting in their respective seats as Jake caught on to the dilemma a little sooner than Heeseung did, “we’re fucked.”

Slamming his foot on the gas, the vehicle took off out of the parking lot, the entire vibe somehow feeling much darker than before now that they were potentially being man-hunted.

“Whose name did she drop?” Jake asked angrily over the steering wheel, knuckles turning white from the intense grip.

The boys fell quiet, Heeseung being equally confused and curious as they sat with clenched jaws, body’s rocking a bit with the car's bolstering drifts as you decided to speak up on their silent behalves.

“Jay,” you started, voice like a single note of a piano that rung strong in their headspace as chills ran down their tensed backs… “she mentioned Jay...”

ABOUT AN HOUR had passed before the sleek black van pulled up into Jay’s driveway, a feeling of shock and gratefulness washing over you at the fact that the boys didn’t take a pit-stop at the “classroom” to teach you any lessons.

“Get her out,” Jake practically barked, Niki almost instantly grabbing your arm at his hyung’s words.

“Isn’t Jay still at work?” You asked somehow in between all the action, Sunghoon having opened the car door to your right and grabbing your other arm, too.

“Yes,” Sunghoon sighed, not even meeting your face as he spoke, “but he’ll be here shortly—”

“I’ll put in a tip that the crybaby missed him very much,” Niki added, speeding up his footsteps until you all reached the tall, mahogany front door, the simple sight of it bringing back one too many memories you wished you could forget now…

Memories of when you loved Jay sincerely, and he loved you… memories of when he used to never put you in harms way… memories of when you were able to look him in his handsome face without gritting your teeth with rage—

Click.

Jungwon unlocked the door with a spare key that was so conveniently placed beneath the front porch statue of an eagle.

Sunghoon and Niki let your arms free in unison, a tingly sensation running up and down the length of your limbs thanks to the force they initially applied.

The four of you stood there awkwardly for a moment, up until you felt a hand tap your shoulder.

“Make yourself at home, ____,” Heeseung began, startling you from behind as your mind became aware of his daunting frame behind you, “and make it quick before a bug flies in, please…”

“O-oh,” you stammered, taking a few rushed steps until you made it all the way inside, the flashy interior of Jay’s home somehow widening your tired eyes.

The sound of Jake’s boots traveled somewhere behind you, his arms being filled with a black dress, pair of heels, and velvet jewelry bag.

“For you, if it wasn’t obvious,” he said plainly, facial features as blank as a fresh canvas.

“Jay wants you to shower before he comes back… and also,” he paused for a second, handing you the items he held before his hand snagged at the rubber band holding up his man-bun and passing it to you, “try to make yourself look nice, alright?”

. . .

Twist.

The faucet creaked slightly as you hopped into the shower, it’s stream of warm water soothing your grimy skin.

You took a moment to let the water moisten your entire body from head to toe before reaching for the loofa and bottle of soap, sudsing up the product before lathering it in.

The tiny pool of water around your feet was muggy and dark, reminding you of just how dirty you had been the whole day, even though it didn’t really bother you after a while.

Twist.

You turned the faucet off, guiding your freshly shampooed hair into a towel while you dried off your body, stepping out of the tub with dry feet to avoid making a mess of things.

The house had become so quiet that even the water trickling down the drain sounded loud.

Pumping a few squirts of lotion into your palm, you massaged it into your thirsty skin, just as your eyes caught sight of the pink razor sitting idly on the counter.

It’s set of three silvery blades shined eerily beneath the overhead ceiling lights, especially against the foggy bathroom mirror.

That’s crazy, your mind internally scolded itself, even though the razor was already in your hand by now.

It’s not even worth it, you heard another voice say, but this time, in an almost daring tone.

Your eyes narrowed in on the squiggly train of green and blue veins decorating your delicate wrist.

You felt your heart start to throb the longer you stared, not out of nervousness, because your heart beat was relaxed in this moment, but out of pain from the sharp sensation that traveled to your finger tips, a stream of dark, rich red trailing down your forearm and dripping onto your bath towel.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Hey, you almost done in there or what?” Heeseung’s voice asked from behind the door, your mind just now realizing that the razor was still inches away from you, resting in its initial spot.

No blood.

No pain.

Just your head playing tricks on you again—

“Uh… y-yeah, just gimme a sec.” You stalled, hand almost instantly grabbing the black dress from its clothes-hanger and sliding it up your hips.

Heeseung still stood behind the door, very aware of the fact that you weren’t even close to being ready… regardless of this, he turned on the heel of his boot and called out, “She’s almost ready, Jay!” indirectly letting you know to hurry the fuck up in there.

“How does she look for me?” You assumed Jay asked from outside, given that Heeseung responded with a cheesy “absolutely beautiful.”

Jay made his way into the room, knocking gently on the bathroom door... not peeking, just listening to your soft yet nervous breathing, “I’ll meet you downstairs, okay love?...”

You didn’t answer, but instead, fastening the zipper on the side of your dress, clipping in the crystal earrings, silver necklace, and two beaded bracelets for either wrist while double checking yourself in the mirror.

That's when you heard Heeseung’s footsteps walk away with Jay’s, just as a new set followed right after.

“It’s me, ____,” Sunoo’s voice began, “can I come in for a sec?”

Once again, you didn't answer, only letting an exasperated huff fall from your lips as you looked into the mirror, the act of trying to style your slippery wet hair with Jake's flimsy hair-tie only adding to your stress…

“I know I'm probably one of the last people you wanna talk to right now, but I can help you,” he continued, part of you wishing he meant 'help you escape'—

Click.

You unlocked the door knob with a creak, the misty bathroom air hitting Sunoo’s dewy skin as he walked in, directing his hand out as a sign for you to sit on the toilet.

“Close your eyes for me,” he said, pulling out a tube of mascara to apply to your lashes.

“Thank you,” you meant to say, but you were interrupted by his voice saying, “I'm sorry” first...

“Sun, can we please not do this right now?” You sighed, an apology from anyone being the last thing on your mind right now.

Sunoo’s chest raised with an anxious exhale before he let the air out through his nose as he whispered the words, “I had to say it ____… It hurts me, y'know?... seeing you like this... seeing what I helped them all do to you...”

An unsettling silence swarmed between you two before the sad-eyed boy reached in his pocket, pulling out a blush compact to apply a bit of hue to the apple of your cheeks with his fingers.

He then pulled a few hairs out from your head, trying to emphasis your natural beauty instead of stressing over a specific style.

“We won't be toying around with this, by the way,” he smiled softly, taking the rubber band from your hand and tossing it into the bin beside you.

You let yourself chuckle a bit at his actions, but it wasn’t the kind of laughter that made you feel good…

It was the kind of laughter that you have with a friend in grade-school while sitting in detention, waiting for your angry parent to come and pick you up for a good scolding—

“So,” he started, placing his hands at your shoulders as you stood up from the toilet, looking at yourself in the mirror, “what do you think?”

Looking back at your reflection, all you could do was smile softly, not for genuine purposes, but for Sunoo’s sake, a familiar smile spreading across his face too at your appearance.

“You're welcome, then,” he meant to say, but you interrupted him first by turning around, wrapping your arms around his waist and whispering a cracky “I forgive you...” against his chest...

BY NOW, SUNOO had left you alone to gather your emotions for a few more minutes before coming down.

He told you a series of simple steps to follow once you'd leave the bathroom:

1. Walk down the staircase.

2. Greet Jay with a smile, either fake or genuine.

3. Don't do anything stupid.

The hardest of these steps? All three if you were being completely honest... but by now, you had already completed 1% of step one, your nervous legs standing still and firm at the very top of the staircase as Jay's voice called out to you.

“My love, what's the delay for?” You heard Jay ask from the bottom, not being able to see you given the way the stairwell curved, “I'm ready to see you...” he went on...

The gall of this man... to demand your presence like he had a right to it or something... this whole thing was just so... dehumanizing.

“I don’t think I can keep doing this Jay,” you blurted out, letting your first mind speak before you could even rationalize a more suitable reply... before you could even take your next step down the staircase...

“I'm giving you an opportunity to cooperate by your own persuasion, ____... please don't abuse it,” he warned coldly, resting his hand on the staff like structure of the staircase as he kept envisioning you coming down the steps, almost as if his thoughts could manifest it happening...

“You're not even listening to me, ____,” you scoffed, thinking back in your head how this clown-show would've been avoided if you actually just picked up that damned razo-

“That's nonsense, and you know it, ____... I understand that you're stressed, but please-”

“No, Jay, because that's the thing,” you interrupted with a raised voice, “you don't understand a damn thing about what I've been going through, all at the hands of you and those strange boys you puppet around...”

“Baby, I get that this is a difficult situation, but I'm trying my very best to make this work,” he pleaded, looking at top the stairs as if you could somehow see his forlorn face.

By now, you had already skipped step 2 and entirely ignored step 3-

“Well, pardon me for adding to the difficulties, but fuck your efforts,” you spat, kicking off the heels you wore and tossing them beside you with a loud clatter, “they've only been out of vanity this whole time anyway...”

Anyway...

The word echoed within your soul, right before it became like wind in your ears...

Your heart skipped a few beats as you suddenly felt like you were falling, both down with gravity and out of the world at the same time, eyes widening with the gasp that escaped your tightening throat.

The feeling of forceful hands left your back, your feet tripping over your steps as you whipped your head to see who pushed you, the whole moment occurring in slow-motion as your eyes met Niki's piercing ones, his large hand waving facetiously at you as you continued to tumble down the staircase.

Your back hit the final step with a loud crack, your consciousness leaving you instantly as your now sleeping face met Jay's, and even though you couldn't see it, his eyes filled with utter terror, boot-clad feet running towards your feeble body.

His words came out like confused soup, but each sentence was something along the lines of 'don’t leave me like this.'

“She brought this upon herself, hyung,” Niki announced shamelessly, coming down the staircase in harsh, slow steps as the shadow of a menacing smirk remained clear on his face, “just let her go...”

Jay looked up at Niki with tears in his eyes. “You idiot!” was all he yelled before scooping you up in his arms, Heeseung running over from the kitchen to see what happened from the noise.

“Oh my God,” Heeseung gasped, running to take you from Jay's hold only for his hand to be swatted away with a nonverbal 'I can handle her,' on his behalf.

“Just open the door... I have to get her outta here,” Jay's voice bit back, trying to stop himself from breaking down at the sudden course of events.

“If she doesn't wake back up soon, promise me that the five of you will make sure that Niki doesn't live to see another day...”

YOUR EYES CRACKED open slowly like rusty door hinges, a throbbing sensation from your head being the first thing you noticed upon waking up.

And the second sensation? Well, it was the tingly feeling running up and down your back, extending all the way into your tied up wrists.

If you didn't remember falling down the stairs before, you definitely remembered it now as you felt a bit of blood drip from the poorly bandaged cut in your brow, your entire being physically cringing at the memory.

Step, step.

Your eyes darted to the source of the sound, only to find Jay waltzing around in an idle circle around the room.

Or more specifically, the classroom...

You're not sure why he decided to bring you here instead of a proper hospital to be checked out, but then again, you didn't really understand anything that Jay did.

Like for instance, why he decided to tie you up in a basement like a criminal within minutes of you literally flying down his staircase-

“Where’s Sunoo?” You began upon making eye contact with Jay, not giving him the chance to start a conversation first.

There was an awkward pause before he finally responded with a blunt, “What’s it matter to you, anyways?… He hated you with every bone in his pathetic body...”

“That's a lie!” You barked back, surprised by your own intensity.

And God, yelling at him only made your head hurt even more.

Jay scanned your bruised face for a moment, communicating to you with his eyes that it’d be best to watch your mouth from here on out considering how it landed you at the bottom of a staircase not too long ago.

His eyes then fell to the sight of your arms that were tied securely behind your back and to the chair post, all by the likes of Heeseung.

You were already treading on thin ice here, so you knew that if you were to say anything at all, it would have to be at the very least somewhat respectful...

Jay smiled softly as your facial features relaxed with the exhausted sigh you let out, the slim sign of compliance compelling him to pace around the room more freely this time.

“To answer your question, love… I suppose some people are just simply,” he delayed in thought, looking up for a second til the right word came to mind… “Replaceable,” he finally finished, voice sounding eerily low as he now made a fierce eye contact with you.

You didn’t understand why he was taunting you all of a sudden… almost as if his previously compassionate demeanor had been corrupted by someone…

“A set of six friends that help you commit crimes… the meager cashier at a local convenience store… there are plenty of kindred spirits for those type of people… for instance, we’re both bound to find another Sunoo… and you, another Mandy—”

“What gives you any right to speak of them in such a way? After all the pain you’ve cost in their lives,” you questioned with a broken voice, hesitant tears welling in your eyes as the pain in your wrist increased with your emotions, the tight restraints only feeling worse any time you moved even in the slightest bit.

Jay caught onto this, too… watching the way your body winced from behind every time you even thought to disrespect him… it brought one of the most sincere smiles to his chilled face that you’ve seen in quite a while.

“Does talking back to me make you feel powerful, love?… c’mon, you can be honest… I won’t laugh…”

You never gritted your teeth so hard in your entire life as you did in this moment, staring back at him with bloodshot eyes as your vision started to blur from the tears.

“No,” you muttered out wobbly, hanging your head low as it became too hard to keep looking at his face, “it doesn’t make me feel anything at all…”

His feet paused in their pacing, right before he turned to meet you where you sat, taking your chin in his hands and forcing you to look up at him, an unreadable but nonetheless threatening look in his eyes as your heart fluttered with nerves...

“I see…,” Jay continued, eyes not meeting yours but still wandering over the expanse of your face, observing your bruised cheek bone, the tiny cut in your lower lip, and the wrinkle between your furrowed brows. “Allow me to help you feel something for once, then…”

“Something painful, I’m sure—”

“I prefer the word pleasant,” he smiled, still holding your chin in place as his free hand reached for the dagger sitting on the side table, its sharp blade still shining before you despite the dimly lit atmosphere.

In this moment, the only pleasant thought in your heart was death, but Jay knew that would be both too good and bad of an ending for you.

Kneeling over you, he lined the blade up with the thick rope entrapping your weakened wrists, slicing back and forth in skilled motions until he felt your hands release.

A relaxed sigh left your mouth at the feeling, the simple sense of relief still mixing with anguish as Jay locked his eyes back on yours.

He knelt down now, letting your chin go as he cut the restraints from around your ankles, placing the blade in your lap before standing up to take a few steps away from you.

“Jay, why are you letting me free—”

“Because I love you, ____,” he stated firmly, removing his jacket from his shoulders as he watched you from where he stood, “that’s always been my reason behind everything since the day I first met you… since I realized that a soul like yours isn’t replaceable…”

“I… I don’t understand what you're trying to say—”

“Stand up,” he continued, voice sounding so deep that you felt it in your feet, “and pick up the knife…”

He watched your trembling hand reach for the blade as if in slow motion, your knees flexing to stand up, weakness plaguing your every step as you walked towards him, his usually sharp eyes softening to a state of meekness…

Or perhaps, it was another state in reflection of the twisted love Jay had chased for months on end… right before he decided within himself that he was willing to finally give it up if that's what it'd take to keep you safe... to see you happy...

“All you’ve ever wanted was to make your own choices… to have that freedom back that I took away from you... this is the only time I’m willing to give you a chance at liberty—”

“I’m not going to kill you, Jay,” your voice came out quietly with a crack, silently hiccuping now as the tears continued to fall, your anxious body somehow craving none other than his strong arms to catch you in case you fell… or even just for the fuck of it...

“Then don’t,” he whispered, maintaining a gentle smile as you practically fell apart from the inside out right before his eyes, “you can do whatever it is that you wish to now... Kill the thought of me along with this version of yourself, and run away for good… I won’t chase you anymore…”

This whole thing... it was becoming far more confusing than you could bear… all this time, all you ever wanted was to be your own person again... who could make decisions without having to look over their shoulder in fear anymore...

All you ever wanted was to live a happy life without Jay and his games, but right now, you couldn’t really remember or imagine what a life like that would look like anyways...

Even if you did run away, you’d still have all the memories from these horrors attached to you… all of the fears cementing every corner of your being like a dungeon... you’d still be reminded by all the bruises and pain...

Your life had come to a point where there was no more pleasure to seek from here, as Jay had filled every possible void and meaning in your life with fragments of his insanity for you...

Just as he operated and just as you concluded to yourself a long time ago, broken toys were Jay’s favorite objective, and if you weren’t already broken upon being found, you were bound to be by the time he finished playing with you.

Simply put, this traumatizing love game was nearing its demise, and you had come too far, become too weak to still put up a fight...

You fell into Jay's chest, his protective arms holding you close to him as your cold tears met his warm skin.

You desperately clung to his shoulders, hoping to gain any sense of comfort from the contact… any sense of that pleasantness he offered to you.

The dagger fell to the ground with a shattering clink, all of your nerves melting away as Jay continued to hold you, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head as you continued to sniffle.

He always knew you’d come around, because that's how things went for him as a Park... though, he also knew it’d still hurt you in the beginning until you'd become adjusted.

You exhaled in his embrace, eyes shut tight even though the tears continued to spill.

“I don’t want to run anymore either, Jay,” you choked out, still clinging to him as he hummed at your words.

“I know, ____…” he said, almost in an apologetic manner, “but now…” he stalled in the silence, peeking down at the knife on the floor, “you’ll have to learn to love me again… but in the meantime, things will be different between us... better... and I can promise you that, love...”

All you did was nod against his chest, finally letting your eyes open up as you spoke an almost inaudible, “I hope I’ve made the right decision…”

He broke from the hug, still connecting your bodies by the waist as he took your hand in his hand to place a kiss against the tender marks on your wrist, a single thought resting in the back of your troubled mind...

You had just given up on your only chance of survival, and was that a foolish or wise decision? You’re not so sure as of now… but either way, one thing remained certain… a thing that you dreaded to acknowledge even now as Jay held you in his arms…

You could only hope that this certainty wouldn’t haunt you til the end of time, and that somewhere within the depths of your broken heart, you’d grow more accepting of the simple fact that Jay, in all of his efforts, had finally won, leaving the two of you now as a united pair to pick up and rebuild the pieces together…

☆ This concludes the CONVENIENT CHANCES series’ season finale everyone! I’d like to give special thanks to @yourmomscuntis2tighy for originally requesting this piece, and to all of the amazing people who supported this series to the very end 🤍🤍🤍

☆ NOTE: in no way, shape, or form does this fanfic intend to romanticize unhealthy relationships or abusive behaviors. i simply write for entertainment and creative purposes. thus, reader discretion is always advised.

☆ TAGS: @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @ashgonedash @addictedtohobi @wonbinisbabygurl @cherlv @03sunoos @kaykay11sworld @gigiramirezsblog @hoonsyo @en-thralled @haechansheart @night-en-shining-armor @cutiejseong @j-wyoung @bambangan @wonbyf @4imhry @zhangyi-johee @naddii @valhrts @tinyenha @lisaaannna @valentineluvr @heecries @espyluvsyou @tokusatsutoad @confuse20x @teddursa @riviyw @tamii4 @lovelycassy @addictedtohobi @gardenwons @nikipedia07 @tubatusoobs @03sunoos @oshsha @elleflying07 @jjungwonss @soobins--dimple @heeseung-min @heerinnie @wonbyf @smouches @ilovesunoosm @whattheflipbroski @starrylovesu @jungwonloveer @idkdykilr @jays-property @daintysan @oddracha @miinie6300 @lilyuwon @meowmeowjang @sun00027 @kkamismom12

[doumadono]

Happy 5k celebration! A cup of raspberry ice creams topped with whipped cream and maple syrup for me - Sukuna who has a massive degradation kink

Warnings: smut w/o plot, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), degradation, rough smut

A/N: thank you so much for your support, dear Nonnie; it really means the world to me

5k FOLLOWERS EVENT MASTERLIST JUJUTSU KAISEN MASTERLIST

You were an ordinary woman, living in a small village in the middle of nowhere. Your fellow villagers believed in an ancient creature powerful enough to grant them long life. Year after year, they would select a young woman to sacrifice to appease the deity. Unfortunately, this year, it was your turn.

You were frightened as they led you to the old temple, dressed in a white dress — a symbol of your purity and innocence.

The place appeared deserted, but as soon as the heavy wooden door closed behind the last person leaving, a chuckle echoed through the air. It was a dark, deep sound, much like the rumble of an approaching storm. Suddenly, from out of the pure darkness, a tall, muscular figure emerged.

"Kneel," Sukuna commanded, his voice echoing off the temple walls.

You obeyed, your heart pounding in your chest as you knelt before him without giving his command a second thought.

Sukuna stood in front of you, his cock hardening in his pants as he watched you submit so willingly to him. He reached out, gripping your chin firmly and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "You exist to serve me, Y/N," he growled, his eyes burning with desire. "Nothing more. You're just a flesh that was made for me to use."

You nodded, your breath hitching as you felt a thrill run down your spine.

Sukuna released your chin, unzipping his pants and pulling out his thick, hard cock. "Now, be a good little minion and suck it," he ordered, thrusting his hips forward.

You didn't hesitate, wrapping your lips around his cock and taking him into your warm mouth.

Ryomen groaned, his hands tangling in your Y/H/C hair as he guided your head, making you take him deeper. "That's it, Y/N," he grunted, his hips moving in a rhythmic motion as he fucked your mouth. "You're such a good little slut."

You moaned around his cock, your eyes fluttering closed as you savored the taste of his salty precum, your warm tears stained your rosy cheeks. You could feel yourself getting wet, even though you shouldn't; your pussy already throbbing with need at the slightest thought of his massive shaft being stuffed in your tiny hole. You stopped thinking straight.

Sukuna pulled out of your mouth, leaving you gasping for air. He pushed you down onto the mat, spreading you legs wide nonchalantly. He quickly pulled up the hem of your dress, prompting you to raise your arms so he could remove the fabric. He then knelt between your thighs, his fingers tracing the wetness on your clothed pussy.

You whimpered, your hips bucking up against the heel of his hand. "My lord," you begged, your voice barely above a whisper.

He reached out, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek before moving down to your exposed neck, his touch sending shivers down your spine. He then moved his hand lower, cupping your breast, his thumb brushing against your perky nipple.

You let out a soft gasp, your eyes fluttering closed. It all felt good, so so good.

Sukuna smirked, tearing your panties apart with one swift motion. Slowly, with an agonizing pace, he lowered his head and ran his tongue over your clit. He licked you, his tongue exploring your slick folds, his hands holding your hips steady, pinning them to the mat. He then inserted a finger into your core, his thumb rubbing your clit.

You cried out, your fingers gripping the mat as waves of pleasure washed over your body.

Sukuna licked and sucked on your delicate clit, his fingers sliding into your pussy, making you moan louder, just for him. He could feel you tightening around his fingers, your body trembling as you neared your peak. But he didn't let you come, pulling away just as you were about to experience your very first climax. "Not yet, little whore," he taunted, his cock throbbing in his pants as he watched you writhe in frustration. "You don't get to come until I say so. Look at yourself. Pathetic! So inexperienced yet letting me fuck your needy hole raw."

Your cheeks were flushed as you whimpered, nodding slowly. "M-Master…"

Sukuna smirked, opening his pants and pulling his massive member out, aligning the huge, mushroom tip with your entrance and thrusting into you in one swift motion, not giving you time to adjust whatsoever. "Yeah, that's it, dirty whore. That's it. Sucking all of my cock in already, well, well. Such a needy brat. Such a dirty harlot."

You cried out, your nails digging into his forearms placed on the both sides of your head as he filled you completely, bottoming up in your tight pussy. The searing pain consumed your thoughts, and tears streamed down your cheeks as you panted quietly, trying to relax in hopes of easing the pain.

Sukuna groaned, his hips moving in a steady rhythm. "Your pussy feels so good, little minion. That's all you were made for. To be fucked stupid. To be used by me. You're nothing but a fucking piece of meat I can do whatever I want with, you little harlot."

You whimpered, parting your legs wider.

Sukuna's thrusts became harder, faster, primal. His cock hitting that sweet, spongy spot inside you that made you see all white. He began to increase his pace, his cock sliding in and out of your slick pussy. He fucked you rough and hard, his hips slamming into yours, your bodies slick with sweat.

You could feel a tight knot building within your tummy, your body trembling as pleasing warmth started to spread all of your being.

"Come for me, little bitch," Sukuna growled, his fingers digging into your hips as he slammed into you. Sukuna groaned, his pace quickening. He could feel his orgasm building, his balls tightening. He grabbed your hips, raising them up from the mat and pulling you closer, his cock going deeper into your pussy at the new angle. "Open you mouth."

You were a moaning mess beneath him, and you didn't comply right away, so Ryomen simply slapped your cheek.

"Open your useless mouth!"

You complied, opening your mouth.

Sukuna leaned in close, spitting a glob of his saliva directly into your mouth. "Now, swallow," he commanded.

You screamed, complying; your body convulsing as you came hard around his cock, your velvety walls spasming rhythmically around the monstrous shaft stuffed in you.

Sukuna followed soon after, his cock pulsing as he filled you with a thick ropes of his cum.

The temple was silent, save your heavy breathing.

Sukuna pulled out of you, watching as his cum dripped out of your abused pussy. "Clean it up, mortal," he ordered, his voice still laced with authority as he pointed to his cock that stood proud still.

You obeyed, moving to position yourself between his legs and taking his softening cock into your mouth. You sucked and licked him clean, your eyes locked on his.

Sukuna yanked your head away by your hair, glancing down at your used form with a smirk. "I think this year's offering is the best these pathetic men have ever given me."

[rivatar]

Practice Makes Perfect

Pairing: AU!College!BasketballPlayer!Neteyam (21) x Fem!Human!Cheerleader!Reader (20)

Warnings/content: MDNI, smut, p in v, creampie, mean & fuckboy Neteyam, degradation, mirror sex, fwb, think that’s it but lmk!

A/n: This is for the day 2 prompt of Pandora’s Glow — Mirror sex + FWB! Credits to @luvv4j4ybe11 & @aperiraa for the event! And credits to @cafekitsune for dividers!

W/c: 1.2k

Neteyam was eyeballing you during practice every chance he got.

He was one of the team captains and this often got to his head; no not often— all of the time. He was the typical cocky athlete who would send nudes to every hot girl, just like all his friends and teammates. He had girls falling at his feet so of course he fucked whoever he deemed pretty enough. Anything to get his dick wet and satisfy his endless sex drive.

To him, this glorified his manhood. Getting laid is the pinnacle of proving you’re the best. And Neteyam was the best. A star athlete with a full ride at your university, his family was well-known and wealthy, and he was favorited not just among his peers, but the professors, coaches, and other faculty too. He charmed the elders with his perfect boy persona, and hell— sports is what matters most to everyone so they all fall for his bullshit since he plays a part at getting them those big wins at nearly every game.

Your sport, however, was hardly deemed a sport by most. Including Neteyam. You worked hard your whole life, competing in All Star competitive cheer. Between the lifts, jumps, flips, and sheer stamina, you firmly believed cheer was damn well a sport, and a difficult one at that.

Due to renovations on the other gym where your team normally practiced all year, you were now forced to practice in the same gym as Neteyam and his team this season. Now him and his minions could openly laugh and make fun of you and your girls, like the himbo pieces of shits they are. Whether it was during stretches, muscle conditioning, or practicing the routines and stunts, the guys were always poking at y’all with sexualized and demeaning comments whenever they could and when the coaches weren’t close enough to hear. It usually went like:

“Bend over a little more, babydoll!”, “Could they make the skirts just a little shorter, please?”, “Amazing eye candy, ladies!”

They were often replied to with heavy eye rolls and a few “fuck off”s by all of you. The pure disrespect towards your sport was almost more than you could bare. Being viewed as an object to the male gaze was gonna be the death of you.

That was why you didn’t know why you ever agreed to this little situation with Neteyam after he cornered you and sweet talked you months ago. Now, it was like a daily routine.

…

“Mmm, fuck!” You held onto the sink in front of you for dear life while Neteyam rattled your shit from behind.

After both your practices wrapped up for the day, he gave you a look you knew all too well. One that said he wanted to fuck, now. The man always had his mind in the gutter. Neteyam always picked the place for the matter, sometimes a little riskier than you’d prefer, being that you didn’t want to be kicked off the team. But this time, following after his tall, broad figure as non-suspiciously as possible, he entered the family restroom down the hall. And that was how you ended up with his dick deep in your pussy.

He flipped your cheer practice skirt up to get a view of your ass, choosing to leave it on and pushing your panties to the side when he shoved his dick inside you.

“You know what this tiny little skirt does to me, you slut. Damn near asking for it, huh?” he said with venom lacing his words, giving your ass a hard spank.

You whimpered at his words. He was right, you were being a slut and you knew it. But you couldn’t resist him, much to your dismay, so you let your dignity take the hit.

“All wet and tight just for me? Or is it from ogling the other guys, too? Wouldn’t surprise me knowing you,” he chuckled darkly, “I mean you literally dance around for the entire public anyways, you little attention whore,”

You blushed deeply, heating up all over. You chose to look down at your feet that were struggling to hold you up from the sheer force of his thrusts.

Then you felt a rough hand beneath your jaw, forcing you to look up and into the mirror right in front of you. You were such a mess— hair misplaced, sweat lining your forehead, and some drool and tears leaking out on your face.

“Watch yourself get fucked by me,” he grunted, and held your face in place so you were forced to acknowledge the scene you were creating through the mirror.

He was hitting your cervix so perfectly, making your body tingle all over. You let out a long and drawn out moan as every inch of your body felt like it was on cloud 9.

“See how pretty you look when you’re moaning?” He said into your ear, “Just a cockslut getting exactly what she wants. You’re lucky you’re so hot or you wouldn’t be getting this from me,” he added while nibbling your ear.

You clenched around him and attempted to drop your head down and focus on the pleasure. He didn’t let you move one bit though, with his painful grip on your hip and his other hand directing your face to the mirror.

“Nuh uh. Watch it. Want you to watch yourself cum on my cock,” Neteyam stuttered a bit, feeling his orgasm approach quickly. “Better do it now pretty girl, I can’t hold back much longer,”

He gave you harder and somehow deeper thrusts while snaking his hand around to rub tight circles on your nub. And that was all it took for your coil to snap.

“Ahhh fuck!!” You screamed as your orgasm wracked through your entire body, almost closing your eyes shut.

“Eyes open,” he tapped your jaw, “Look at you go,” He praised you as the feeling soared through your body.

Your jaw was hanging open in a silent scream as you watched your legs shake and felt your pussy convulse on him.

“Now, eyes on me. Watch me as I cum in you,” He gritted through teeth.

You watched him through your eyebrows, your head feeling light and struggling to stay upright, your arms on the sink still holding you up. You watched in awe as all his muscles tensed up deliciously and he threw his head back while guiding your hips back on him as he shot his hot load in your cunt. You noticed all the little micro-expressions in his face as the sweet release rushed through his body too.

Coming down from your highs, you both glanced at each other briefly, suppressing little laughs. You fixed your skirt the best you could although he left an absolute mess in your folds, with his cum slowly seeping out of you. So you knew you needed to get out of there before anyone saw cum dribbling down your legs.

He smirked, knowing why you were rushing to get out. “Might wanna wash that before next practice,” he teased and winked at you, feeling proud as you swung the door open and ran off.

Taglist: @neteyamssyulang @bambithewriter @professional-yapper @eywaseclipse @neteyamsoare @nonamevenus @loakstahni @zafrinaxyz @anemonelovesfiction @strongheartneteyam @etherynn @plantgirliewholovespandora @ladykat37 @xylianasblog @vogueweb @inolaphoenix (lmk if you’d like to be added or removed!)

[steddieas-shegoes]

98. “if we weren’t in public right now i’d have my head between your legs” 👀

READICUS. Okay. Alright. I've caught the context disease from you though.

Rated M | tags: language, flirting, dirty talk, so much discussion about sex they might as well be having it, getting together, FWB to lovers

😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉

It was just grocery shopping.

They were in a grocery store.

Eddie should not be getting hard watching Steve pick out the ripest bananas.

Like, genuinely, even he knew this was as ridiculous as it could get.

It's just that they'd been casually fucking for the last few weeks, letting off steam, just dudes helping dudes through their synchronous dry spells, and watching Steve pay so much attention to a fucking banana was a lot for Eddie to wrap his mind around.

Casually fucking might not even be the right term.

It was more like...fucking like rabbits.

Eddie spent more time at Steve's house than he spent at his own, and most of that time was spent either naked or trying to be.

He spent the night last night, and only agreed to come shopping with Steve after a very convincing blowjob against the kitchen counter.

It was working for them.

Except for how much Eddie loved Steve. Not like a friend, or a brother, or the way he loved his Hellfire minions. He loved Steve in the "would marry you in Vegas and have tons of babies with you if you wanted" way.

So embarrassing.

Especially taking into consideration that there was no way Steve saw their arrangement as anything more than convenient.

He watched as Steve finally settled on the perfect bunch of bananas and shuffled back to the cart that Eddie was leaning on.

Eddie leaned forward as Steve leaned over the cart, his lips brushing against his ear.

"If we weren't in public right now, I'd have my head between your legs," he whispered.

Which was bold of him considering the grocery store was packed with weekend shoppers.

Steve tensed, his body freezing completely as Eddie backed away, smiling and waving at an old lady glaring at him.

"What the fuck, Eds."

Steve's cheeks were fire engine red, his hands gripping the edge of the cart like it was the only thing holding him up.

"What? I just thought you should know how bad I want you," Eddie shrugged.

They flirted with each other all the time, that's what led to their situation in the first place: the flirting went a bit too far and Steve ended up on his lap, rocking his hips back and forth until he came in his jeans.

No big deal.

Just another day.

But never in public, barely even around someone they trusted.

"Here? Now?" Steve squeaked out, eyes widening comically.

"Why not? You're hot," Eddie's hand grazed his lower back, just enough of a touch to tease, not enough to really be noticed by anyone else.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Steve hissed. "You want people to see?"

"No, 'course not," Eddie smirked. "I just want you to feel."

Watching Steve struggle to find words, struggle to flirt, was possibly the biggest win in Eddie's book. If he could pat himself on the back for it, he would.

"We're in public."

"Stevie, I hate to say it, but being in public doesn't really stop me from wanting to get on my knees and suck your dick."

Steve's face got impossibly darker, only spurring Eddie on more.

"If I wasn't so worried about being walked in on, I'd drag you to the bathroom right now. Maybe fuck you in a stall. You'd probably like that, huh? You liked when I fucked you against the shower wall the other day," Eddie let his fingers trace along Steve's arm, subtle, easy to pull away if someone got too close to them.

"Eddie-"

"Or maybe you'd wanna fuck me. I know how much you like throwing me around and showing off sometimes. Think that would work for you?"

Eddie watched as Steve shivered, biting his lip and doing his best to hold back a whine.

"But we won't do that, right? Because only I get to see you like that. The way you fuck me, the way I fuck you, that's just for us, isn't it?"

Steve nodded.

Eddie looked around, confirmed no one was close enough to see, and settled a hand on the front of Steve's jeans.

"This is just for me."

"Yeah, just for you," Steve choked out, his hand grasping at Eddie's wrist to either pull it away or hold it in place. "Eds-"

"I know, Stevie. But we gotta shop. That's what you said when you were on your knees in the kitchen this morning."

"I can shop later," Steve gasped as Eddie's hand squeezed once before pulling away.

They were in public and there was only so much Eddie was willing to try to get away with, but Steve's reaction was everything.

He looked away, focusing on the apples in front of him as if he cared at all about apples when Steve Harrington was hard right next to him.

He froze.

He thought about everything he'd just said, how possessive he'd sounded, how he'd never quite crossed that line before.

How into it Steve was.

He looked back at Steve, who was still staring at him, face almost back to a normal shade, but lips bitten red and eyes glassy.

"Steve?"

"Hm?"

"Do you want that to be just for me?" Eddie should not be having this discussion in the grocery store.

"Do I what?"

"Do you want to be mine? Like, more than just...fucking?" Eddie should not be having this discussion in the grocery store.

"Is that...an option?" Steve was letting him have this discussion in the grocery store.

"If you want it to be."

Every once in a while, Eddie saw this look in Steve's eye, only ever when he was looking at Eddie doing something stupid or funny or when he was messing around with the kids.

He never let himself think that it was anything more than just Steve getting distracted while looking at him.

He could see it now, though, and he couldn't ignore what that look actually was.

"I want it. I want you."

Eddie was fucked. In more ways than one, it seemed.

"You do?"

"Why is that so hard to believe? You've practically been living with me for weeks, dude."

Eddie's lips curled down, disgusted.

"Don't call me dude, oh my God."

Steve laughed.

"I'll make it up to you when we get home," he winked, turning around and pretending that he didn't just make Eddie's brain short circuit.

"I- what-" Eddie sputtered.

"What? Can't handle my mouth? You handle it fine earlier."

God, Eddie loved this man.

"Stevie, how fast can you finish shopping?" Eddie started pushing the cart away, not even sure if he was going in the right direction.

"If you stop distracting me, ten minutes."

"I'll be in the car, then."