#but still. why the hell did i do that. this thesis is killing me.

[rapha-reads]

Am I supposed to take advantage of the night to keep working on my thesis, of which I've barely completed 1/9th (discounting research, abstract, introduction, structure and bibliography)? Yes. Am I instead reading my second novel of the day? Yes. Should I go to bed instead because it's 4am? Yes.

Earlier today I read This is How You Lose the Time War, that I had been meaning to check ever since it was published, and it was gorgeous. Really beautiful, the letters, the descriptions of the multiple universes, times and planets visited, the ways Red and Blue work, the emotions... Pure joy.

Right now I'm reading The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet, and it is fascinating. I love a good scifi book, especially a scifi book that really takes into consideration the vastness of space and how varied other species and planets could be. Also punching holes through subspace sounds like a pure adrenaline trip and I'm deeply interested and captivated.

Anyway. Thesis is not progressing, deadline is getting closer. I should stop reading and start writing at some point. Meh. Stress levels are still not optimal. Stars aren't aligned. Need more adrenaline.

[thatfreshi]

"Unsavory Purposes" (Uni AU P. 4)

No, I didn't write a filler part. How dare you ask me that? I would never write fluffy filler bc I want all my little guys to be happy. Anyways, Gale intro finally!!!! Also we get to see the only other ship I have planned for this fic series...

@justporo

You, Shadow and Lae get breakfast after shooting the shit for a couple hours. The smell of eggs and potatoes fills the air as the three of you reach the bottom floor of the dorm. It's bustling with people, all trying to get somewhere. It's Sunday, and classes start tomorrow, so people are scrambling to get their textbooks before they go on backorder. The three of you part ways to put together a plate, and eventually come back together at a booth next to a window.

"Ugh, I was enjoying having a break. Back to the grind for me I suppose."

Shadowheart sighs, moving cheesy eggs around on her plate.

"You love it, don't act like you're not a workaholic."

Before they can start arguing again, a stressed man comes over to talk to Shadowheart.

"Is it true? Did Astarion really tell your entire floor to come to me if they have an issue?"

"Oh Gale, it's sweet that you're even asking. Of course he did."

Gale puts his head in his hands.

"I'm going to kill him. Mind if I sit Shadow?"

"Not at all. Tav, this is Gale, artist extraordinaire, TA for Ms. Mystra."

"Yes, it is indeed I. Thank you for the wondrous introduction Shadow."

Finally, someone's major here has piqued your interest.

"Oh, what do you study?"

"All kinds of things, but my thesis is going to be a series of paintings."

Lae'zel rolls her eyes.

"The arts. So silly, what a waste."

She stabs her eggs with her fork.

"Why, are you thinking of majoring in some kind of art?"

You shrug.

"Honestly, I don't really know yet."

Shadowheart almost spits out her water.

"You... you don't know your major? This place is going to eat you alive."

She and Gale laugh to themselves, but it doesn't bother you. She's not wrong after all, it's odd that you haven't picked a major at this point. There are just too many good options.

"Well, you could be like Lae'zel and study something boring like history."

Shadow playfully nudges her arm, to which she grumbles.

"I didn't come here for a degree idiot, I came here to run."

It's silent for a moment, before Gale solemnly speaks up.

"How is it by the way? Your leg?"

She almost seems sad, but quickly shifts her expression.

"It's fine."

And that's the end of that conversation. Gale doesn't pry any further, but it clearly has him concerned. You realize you actually don't know what's wrong with her leg, other than that it's stiff when she walks. Before you can ask what happened, Shadowheart interrupts.

"Holy shit. Who is that Gale?!"

You turn inconspicuously to where she's looking, and you see the skater from last night, Karlach.

"Oh, she just transferred. Karlach. Apparently the best wrestler we've had in years."

"She looks like she could carry me to safety..."

You smirk.

"Shadow, you're staring at her."

She quickly averts her gaze, blushing.

"Right. My bad."

It's too late though, because the wrestler is now walking towards your table.

"Hey there! Sup Gale?"

"Nothing much Karlach. The dorm treating you well?"

"Oh hell yeah. I just thought I'd come over because your friend was staring at me, didn't know if she needed something."

The woman's voice is a little playful, almost as if she knows Shadow was staring for... unsavory purposes.

"No- I... I'm sorry. You're fine, I don't need anything. I mean, I need some things, like food and water and-"

Gale turns to her, mouthing something along the lines of 'shut up.'

"Well, alright. Good to see you Gale! Off to get some breakfast."

Karlach then winks at Shadowheart, before sauntering off. You're in shock from the massive flirting that just happened in front of you, and Gale is as well. Lae'zel is ignoring it all, still stabbing away at her eggs.

"Shadow... how did you even manage to pull that off."

"I have no idea because I certainly panicked! But dear Goddess do I NEED her to crush me."

You and Gale laugh.

"What! I'm serious, she could destroy me with those thighs and I would thank her."

"You're going to scare off your new friend Shadowheart. Tav, I apologize on her behalf. She doesn't know how to act around buff women."

"It's alright! I think it's sweet. You two would be cute."

"We would be, wouldn't we..."

[panpanpanini]

detco salt. tl;dr i am officially in the 1000s now and i wish i was in a better mood about it

-

i already said my piece about 1000/1001 as failures of commemorative specials but 999 really wasn't much better either. like really not. they super dropped the ball on a real milestone section of the series, huh... to say nothing of smile village and frying pan of hatred which come right before this too

i don't actually have -that- much to whinge about on this one [spoilers: i proceed to whinge on and on about it] bc it IS just filler at the end of the day but there are times when i'm just so, SO confused about the messages detco is trying to get across. its stance on certain things, especially as pertains to morality and justice, are sometimes just so wildly inconsistent (as is expected from a show with over 1000 episodes and 27 movies, but still). to save you 20 minutes, in episode 999 the victim-- a man who can only be described as a serial abuser of emergency services-- is first assaulted by a restaurant patron, then later found dead by his colleague. he did not die from the assault, instead it was his colleague who dealt the final blow. the victim had wronged both people with his frivolous tattling, so to speak. the episode ends with conan/kogoro reading the first assailant--the restaurant patron-- as a guy who consciously chose not to follow through with murder and praising him for "controlling himself" in the end. which. ugghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

i remember this being a bigger issue in some of the earlier episodes but...to put it bluntly... -attempted- robbery/murder/assault is still a crime, is it not????? i'm not talking about how -bad- of a crime it is, getting halfway through the crime -is- still a crime, right?? why on earth does this show sometimes try to impart that it isn't?

i just find it so weird every single time the series insists that justice is black and white [1] because it's not and [2] for as many instances of moral binaries that exist within the show there are just as many grey areas that it creates to which it applies those binaries anyway, even if it fails to address them like a deeper crime show would. morality is a gradient and that gradient is different from person to person, from culture to culture, and oftentimes the laws which write this code into the legal system don't reflect those shades of grey, but. i think most people would agree that trying to commit a crime is still... committing a crime... and stooping to a thesis statement which basically boils down to "you get a gold star for only assaulting a guy when you could've killed him" is horrifically careless. ESPECIALLY literal seconds after the same character chides the murderer as a guy whose crime is 'unforgivable.' is the bar really so low? what the hell is this weird double standard? i understand what they were trying to get across (that is, "this could have been much worse") but wowee zowee it's so badly executed and frankly probably shouldn't be your first choice of message in this situation. who wrote this???

episodes like this cause me to wade in disappointment because like plenty of other detco filler, there's opportunity to explore other things which make the detective genre endearing beyond serialized whodunits. in isolation the idea of a guy being fooled into believing he may have gone too far and killed someone is interesting. speculating on why he didn't follow through with killing the guy in the first place is interesting too and could be an exploration of character. the guy who did actually end up doing the killing could also be explored since it's never really established whether he premeditated the exact circumstances that led up to the murder, especially since he wasn't in cahoots with the first assailant-- rather, he comes across as an opportunist who already had it in mind to take out the victim and just saw that the time had come. in short... there's just a lot more to comment on here than capping the episode with something weird like "good job on not 100% killing the guy who ruined your life." why not consider something like regret, or whatever the criminal equivalent of buyers' remorse is?? more than once detco episodes have said some bizarre pieces on situations like this and, at least to me, transcends from [weird OOC dialogue] to [mouthpiece for the writer.] is it a crime in itself to plan a murder but not act on it? if not, how far is too far? when does someone cross the line from fantasy to premeditation? the victim was the type of person to call the police on people who "looked suspicious" - we can agree that this was cranked up to cartoonishly karen levels for the show, but there are definitely people out there who behave similarly, with behaviors having roots in things like systemic unconscious bias or xenophobia. how does the law deal with these people who call emergency services willy-nilly? is there legal punishment for such people who abuse the system (and in the presence of vigilante justice, as is what ultimately happened here, does that suggest there is none)?

these are all things that are infinitely more intriguing than the final product. and i didn't make any of it up either, i pulled all of this from what we were shown; the groundwork is there but time and time again detco does this low-key infuriating thing where it just doesn't ask questions. more than anything that i mumble and grumble about in this series i find this above all to be extremely annoying. like i almost can't take it sometimes, there have been a few other episodes like this where i can't really do anything but be bewildered (553 comes to mind as THE worst offender so far). i would argue that detective fiction is one of the greyest brands of storytelling out there, so for detco to consistently-- and seemingly willingly-- avoid shades of grey like water and oil is utterly baffling to me and i'm mostly sure this is The Thing that will eventually drive me away from it again [context: i fell back in love with detco in 2021, the first was in 2004 and my interest tapered off in 2007/8 or so]. i'm pessimistic it will ever change course to the degree that i would like (that's a silly expectation), but... there are episodes peppered throughout its catalogue that do, at the very least, acknowledge that these questions are out there (ie 956/957) but rather like other story beats and character developing moments it's almost like the series is cursed to rubber band back to the status quo each time it takes a risk! why??? (this is rhetorical, i'm not looking for an answer)

[huff]

okay. that's all. i didn't like episode 999 lmao

[dreamofstarlight]

I need someone to give me a thorough 10 page thesis on what the hell KP is doing PR wise. Because the kill notice had me shook. Like where do you go from here lol, what do you say?

No fr! And the difference between the PR of BP and KP is jarring like the video of Charles reading the get well soon cards was great and I think it could have been a good idea for KP to put out a photo of the get well soon cards sent and then the caption is from Kate saying "thank you so much for the support! I hope to be back greeting all of you soon" I understand that her recovery has probably been rough and she might not have been up for taking a photo or video but just something like that would have done well. I know that they made it very clear from the beginning they would not be giving updates willy nilly but that technique is not faring well in the public sphere.

That kill notice should be an oh shit moment for them because what the hell is that. Why did that happen because it couldn't have been for nothing? People saw obvious photoshop in their christmas card photo but that was still allowed to be published far and wide.

[galwednesday]

KIND

Her arms ached, but she couldn't bear to put Jack down, so he drooled onto her shoulder the whole walk back from the woods. 

They hadn't even asked about the changeling, whose face had matched but actions hadn't, who'd flinched at a hawk's cry and rescued drowning spiders. Who didn't have Jack's happy carelessness, the surety of a beloved son.

Home at last, she set Jack down in the already occupied bed, smoothing the hair of his sleeping copy. In the morning, she would ask for their name. To them, names were binding; she would make this one an anchor.

(100 word inktober drabbles; EAGLE, FORGET, EMPTY, and ARMADILLO below the cut)

EAGLE

"That's not what we sound like," Callie hissed. "This is like when there's a bald eagle in a truck commercial and they play a hawk sound or whatever. Banshees don't do slasher movie screaming. It's a death song, emphasis on song."

"Babe," Yoli said. "You were the one who wanted to watch this movie."

Callie shoved popcorn into her mouth, conceding the point. They watched the doomed soldier crumple dramatically at another piercing shriek.

"Oh what the hell," Callie exploded, "we don't kill people, what is this garbage--"

"Booooo," Yoli agreed, seizing the bowl to throw popcorn at the screen.

FORGET

He cultivated the garden with a desperation he didn't always understand. Early spring brought a brief respite, but inevitably the days lengthened, forget-me-nots giving way to daffodils, and he was left kneeling in dirt littered with fallen bruise-blue petals. He built the greenhouse quickly, sloppily, giving himself splinters on the wooden frame but careful with the life-sustaining glass panels he sealed in one by one.

He coaxed the first bulbs into flower in late fall. The moment his shaking hands cupped the unfurling buds, he remembered what he needed; her face, her smile, and the name to guide her home.

EMPTY

"Huh." She held the flashlight with one hand and the magnifying glass with another, peering into the back rows of teeth. There were more incisors than average, with an empty gap between two of them. "Yeah, I can see some shards of the broken tooth still in there. Will it grow back?"

"You're the dentist," her crocodile merman patient said, articulating with difficulty as he kept his jaws wide. "Shouldn't you know?"

"Oh, honey, I'm not licensed," she said, gesturing at the airboat she used as a mobile clinic. She picked up a pair of long-handled tweezers. "Now hold still."

ARMADILLO

Historoscopes had a fourteen-month waiting list to borrow from the university archives, but they were invaluable for field research. Ahmed recorded observations of the ghostly outlines of Glyptodons, armadillos' ancestral megafauna, as he and his thesis advisor surveyed the plains around them, minus several million years.

"Now why are those ones in color?" his professor mused. 

Ahmed glanced over, did a double-take at the approaching bison, and scooped his professor up over his shoulder. "Those are here now."

"So they are!" his professor exclaimed in delight, and swapped the historoscope for regular binoculars as Ahmed sprinted back towards their van.

[vexedtonightmares]

10 books to get to know me

thank u for tagging me ren the loml let’s get married next month @serethereal

ill give you the sun by jandy nelson - my raison d'être... the book of my life... i will never love any book like i love this one i swear to god i feel the power of a thousand suns and stars exploding inside my body whenever i read this book it's fucking lunacy it's poetry it's a painting of written word i will die with a copy of this book in my hands

a little life by hanya yanagihara - never ever read this book i will never recommend it to anyone and honestly if you can escape with your life intact and never read this book do that because fucking hell this book ruined my life in so many ways but it's also one of the most profoundly moving novels i've ever read i know there are issues that can be discussed to hell and back but none of that will change the heartbreakingly raw feeling i had in my chest reading this book and how much i love it even though it fucking killed me

the raven cycle by maggie stiefvater - i got infected with brain worms over this many years ago and i'm still not over it. the writing style is like crack to me. the characters are like crack to me. the romance is like crack to me. the plots are like crack to me. will probably always be my favorite series.

daisy jones & the six by taylor jenkins reid - one thing about me i'm obsessed with bands/music so if you write a book about the (fake) greatest band that ever lived.. what am i supposed to do other than drop to my knees and eat it up? best tjr book, i said what i said.

the locked tomb by tamsyn muir - hoooooollllyyy fuck. don't make me start about this one. i won't stop. ianthe. harrow. gideon. palamedes. necromancy. diy lobotomy. bone soup. none house with left beef. the cows. nona. everything. this series is a fucking fever dream that i never want to wake up from and it's my divine purpose to make everyone in my life read it. ianthe. again.

vicious by v.e. schwab - i love all of v.e. schwab's books but vicious is just next level i loveeee enemies i loveeeee fucked up morality i loveeee found family i loveeee homoeroticismmmmmm

these violent delights by micah nemerever - putting the homo in homicide just how i like it. i could spend HOURS dissecting a single page of this book and i would never get tired of it. micahhhh why did you have julian kiss paul on the forehead so much i'm going to KILL MYSELFFF

the secret history by donna tartt - if my reading taste could be defined in one fake genre it would be dark academia. i love it beyond belief and i will read any and every ounce of dark academia in my vicinity. tsh is the undisputed god of dark academia and i wholeheartedly agree i love this book with a fierce passion and willlll force it down anyone's throats i can

conversations with friends by sally rooney - discovered last summer that i'm a sally rooney bitch. loved normal people and beautiful world as well but smth about conversations with friends like oh boy.. life changing for me. frances... still sad the tv show was ass but i knew from the start there was no way they could properly translate the complexity of frances' inner monologue to the screen

carmilla by joseph sheridan le fanu - this truly and genuinely changed my life. lesbian vampires are in fact the thesis statement of my life, and BOY. these ones. yeah. king was ahead of his time. dracula who?

too tired to tag anyone wahoo do it if u wanna !

[lost-in-sokovia]

okay, soph, first of all i apologize for this ABSOLUTE DISSERTATION that i will be writing in ur inbox, but i must express this.

i have to let you know your impact with auggie. okay. so. look. one of my favorite songs of literally all time is god's country by ethel cain, (may or may not be the title source for a certain joby taylor fic but shhhh) but NOOOWWW every time i listen to it i cannot HELP but think about, eddie and y/n's dynamic while raising auggie.

okay, yeah, hear me out: so my interpretation of said song is that it is essentially about a couple who's been born into a bad situation, and just like, all of the odds are against them. you know, bad childhood, they dont have much money. (much like, eddie and y/n living in Gotham, we know eddie had a bad childhood, we can assume they dont have the most disposable income) but like despite all of this, the couple is still optimistic, and lets their love prevail, and basically they fight to survive despite it all. (which is quite clear in ur writing, eddie and y/n are madly in love with each other and rarely do they let their dismal situation get in betwewn their love for each other and auggie)

anyways, in regards to lyricism, what really makes me think about this whole auggieverse situation is these lines:

"When you’re old you’ll understand But we’re hurting now so what are we to do 'til then? Cradling pictures of you" OKAY like this lyric specifically makes me think of when eddie goes off to prison and like reader is trying to explain things to auggie. like, she's kind of skirting around the subject, ya know.... just telling auggie like, "i'll tell you everything when you're older" bc obviously she's not going to tell a 5 y/o that his dad is a murderer. and in regards to the "cradling pictures of you", like reader looking back through pictures of old memories while eddie is gone.

"Our kids will grow up with half as much Trying to build something out of dust Finding out too late what they need" okay, this part reminds me of like, you know, eddie and y/n being young, unmarried parents, and again, i assume, not the most financially well-off. so, kind of just them having to come to terms with they aren't going to be able to SPOIL SPOIL their child, and theyre just trying their best to make ends meet and give august the happiest life they possibly can in their situation. which again is hard in gotham bc resources are already limited there, so he's already not going to have the easiest childhood. (but obviously eddie and y/n do EVERYTHING for auggie, and spoil him as much as they possibly can)

AND OKAY ALMOST OVER

but there's a part right before the climax of the song where ethel repeats over and over "don't sink in me with your dog teeth" and this part totally makes me think about y/n finding out eddie is the riddler, and even if she already knows, like physically seeing the results of his crimes on the news, and seeing him at arkham and probably has her a little scared. i mean no matter how much you love someone, knowing they have it in them to brutally kill is going to probably make you feel something. and even for a split moment, i can assume y/n is a little scared of her seemingly sweet eddie's capabilities for violence. and i presume, ESPECIALLY when they argue at arkham, she might worry he could turn that anger onto her, hence don't sink in me with your dog teeth.

okay, yeah, that is my thesis paper apparently sdsdcscsdsdcssds. i just wanted you to know that now i think of auggie every time i listen to one of my favorite songs, OMFG UR IMPACT

why did this make me choke up im screaming crying throwing up banging my head against the wall ANYA what the hell😭😭😭 YOU LITERALLY CAPTURED EVERYTHING IM TRYING TO PUSH IN THE AUGGIEVERSE JESUS!!!! im 1000% going to have to listen to this song now, and omfg when i publish for the future it’s all gonna add up🥺

[briefcasejuice]

gabs, i'd like to present to you a very short thesis on the song 'my tears ricochet' by taylor swift. i am by no means a mattelektra stan, but holy shit, do i mourn what could've been. this song is very clearly from elektra's pov:

these lines here i feel represent the first time they reunite in season 2, when she basically says that not a day went by where she didn't think of him, and she thought that they could move on, finally live a life together

Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe All the hell you gave me?

because she loved him. until she died.

'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you 'Til my dying day

absolute goosebumps

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace And you're the hero flying around, saving face

and because he still loved her, even with all that happened

And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet

and an homage to his struggle in s3:

You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same

And you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain Crossing out the good years

absolute chills from listening to this. it's like this song was made for them.

OH MY GOD RHI YOUR MIND AND MUSIC TASTE??

this is absolutely perfect when i first read this my impatient brain read all the pink first and i genuinely thought, "mattelektra," then i read everything else and i swear i was audibly chanting yes. but you phrased the analytical bits in such a beautiful way i could cry!!

as an editor, like videos n such, im such a sucker for finding meanings in songs that could match with character or ship qualities and AHH this is basically my entire thought process but you're an amazing writer so it's phrased 100x better than i ever could i love this so much

[reinflare]

Chapter 1 : Welcome to Devildom, Your Above Average Hell!!!

Summary : Welcome! You’re the new exchange student at RAD! You didn’t plan on another study, but here we are.

Warning : none?? idk pls tell me

Word Count : 1511

Notes : I appreciate critics and suggestion, pls do tell if you have any. I’m new to writing or making story over all, so expect me stumbling all over with this. oh yeah and this is my take on the game story, enjoy! X)

Next Chp.>

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You’ve finally graduated from college and now a bachelor of something. No more thesis or essays to be made. You've decided it's time to take a break before doing another gruesome work called getting a job. Though many would disagree with your decision, you don’t care about them. They don’t know what you’ve gone through, and you’re the one to decide your path.

So here you are in your living room, holding your game console about to drop into a comfy bean bag.

You close your eyes as you fall down, but something doesn’t feel right. The fall is… a little too long, and you landed on something hard. Confused, you get up and open your eyes only to see that you’re in some kind of courtroom.

“Welcome to Devildom Y/N.” said a red haired man. “..oh, pardon me. A little shocked, are we? Well that is all normal after all you’ve just arrived.” the man continued.

All of what the man said passed through your head as you’re still trying to understand ‘Devildom’. ‘Ahh, it seemed I finally died out of stress? Guess the holiday didn’t work after all.’ you thought.

You stared at the man as he introduced himself and explained the place you’re in. “ok. His name is Diavolo, and this place is RAD… Interesting acronym.” you noted to yourself.

‘Wait a second… shouldn’t he be telling me what bad deeds i have done by now?? I know I hated school but I'm pretty sure my kind of living hell would be being surrounded by A LOT of people.’

As diavolo finished his monologue you asked “Um.. I have 2 questions if that’s ok.” 

“Oho, ask away.” Diavolo replied.

You take a deep breath “Am I dead? And if I am dead… or not? Why am I here?”

“I will explain everything to you, but first of all you are not dead.” said the black haired man that is now standing and walking over to you.

“y/n, this is Lucifer. He’s a demon and the Avatar of Pride.” Said Diavolo and he continues to explain how Lucifer is the vice president of the student council and his right-hand man and so on. You decided to observe the other 4 people in the room while Listening. After Diavolo has finished, Lucifer was about to continue his explanation but you decided your question is more important.

“ok… if you’re a demon… and everyone else is too. Don’t you all look too human?” Silence permeated through the room as you finished.

You hear Lucifer chuckle as he proceeds to spurt 2 pairs of wings and a pair of horns. “Does this look demonic enough for you?” Lucifer smiles menacingly at you.

“I think I expected something more… gory, sigh. We can just continue with the explanation.” ‘If I am in danger, they would’ve killed me a long time ago and wouldn’t be so polite… right?’

Lucifer is confused and surprised at how calm you’re taking everything, but he continues with the explanation anyway. He starts from the purpose of the exchange program, how long is your stay at Devildom, and what is your task as an exchange student.

Your excitement dies as you hear you’re going to write a thesis at the end of the program. ‘Welp… If you can do it once, you can do it again. Try not to internally die challenge. season 2.’

“Pfft no need to look so glum, you’re not going to write a doctoral thesis.” says Lucifer.

“Still… I didn’t remember I applied for another degree.”

“Well it’s time for you to meet your caretaker for your stay here.” Lucifer hands you a familiar looking device. “This is your DDD, it’s similar to your device from the Human Realm. Now, use it to call my brother Mammon.” You did as you’re told. You just didn’t expect a loud voice to greet you when you put the DDD to your ear.

“YOOooo Lucifer! I’ll be there in a minute, KAy! Totally didn’t forget!” The call immediately ended after that. You didn’t even get a chance to say anything. “Um, Lucifer… you sure he wouldn’t forget me in the middle of a street?” you look worriedly at Lucifer. “There is no need to worry, he is the only one that is available to do the task.” Lucifer continued by introducing apparently his brothers.

Just as the ‘Intro to the 7 Deadly Sins’ finishes, Mammon arrives with a loud bang of a door.

“HEYYA! Where’s that puny little human I need to take care of?”

“And that… is Mammon, Avatar of Greed.” Lucifer sighed. “Now that you’re here. Take the human to the House of Lamentation. You’ll be living with the 6 of us.”

“What about my things? I would need to get back if I want to stay for a year here don't I?”

“You’ll find it in your room.”

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

The walk to HoL was… as you expected. Mammon rambles the whole walk talking about how you’re just a weak human and must be grateful that he’s your guardian, how you must address him by Great Mammon, How dangerous other demons are to humans and so on.

You kept answering him with ok and all agreeing kind of hum as you’re getting annoyed at how noisy he’s being. ‘He’ll stop at some point right? RIGHT!?’

As you arrive at HoL a loud shout calls out. “MAMMMOON RETURN MY MONEY NOW!!!” A blue haired male comes running down the stairs with a very angry face.

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

You’re now hiding in what you suppose the dining room under a long table. The last thing you remembered was Mammon saying “IT’S EVERY MAN FOR THEMSELVES” as he ran away, and you also ran, he was so fast that you lost him in less than 3 seconds. ‘Why am I hiding again??? Ah right… a random angry dude encountered’

You came out of the table and looked around. ‘He left me before getting me to my room… sigh I guess I just have to find it on my own.’

The nearest door to you is next to the kitchen and when you open the door you see some of your stuff and suitcases. ‘Oh I got lucky.’

The room is spacious and lush with plants on the wall. The lamp on the ceiling is emitting quite some heat. You suppose it was a substitute for the sun that lacks in Devildom. You go to unpack your suitcases and find some of your books along with your clothes and underwares. ‘I don’t want to think about it but… you can’t say I won't be creeped out when someone I don't know packs my underwear!!’

“They really got all my necessities, from toothbrush to sketchbooks.” “I probably should walk around and familiarize myself… it’s still too early to sleep.”

Your door opens and Mammon’s head pops in “oh you found your room.” “AAA GOD DAMMIT!! CAN’t you knock!?” Mammon cringes at that. “Yea yea, I’m just checking on ya. I see ya got everything covered. Chiao”. Mammon was leaving  “w-wait... I... might need some… g-guidance from the Great Mammon, mind touring me around?” Mammon smiles smugly “well since you said it that way The Great Mammon will give ya puny human some guidance around HoL!”

‘Good, he’s predictable. Use the right word and all will be going fine.’

Mammon tours you around HoL, he tells you some histories and stories behind some items in HoL. Mammon tells you not to touch anything in case the item is cursed. At the hall there were portraits of the brothers and one you haven’t met. You guessed it belonged to the Avatar of Sloth, considering that every other deadly sin had been introduced. You thought that it isn’t your business, so you didn’t ask where sloth is.

The tour goes smoothly as you and Mammon jokes around. When you check the time, the tour has gone for 1 and half hours. “Aaand that is the end of our tour.” Mammon smiles brightly.

“Ah it’s almost time for dinner, let’s go to the dining room.” “I’m not on the menu am I?” Mammon smiles suspiciously at you “oh, what if you are.” “pfft alright I know you’re joking. Come on let’s go to the dining room” Mammon laughs and continues walking.

You smile ‘I suppose he isn’t that bad. Quite nice actually… just a little noisy and annoying.’

The dinner was quite eventful. Mammon had to get the blue haired guy who’s name is Leviathan to dinner. Leviathan asked… well more like scolding you why you ran earlier that day. The food was… intriguing, it looks very normal, too normal but it was made with very different ingredients and it tastes somewhat similar but different. ‘I am now interested to learn more about devildom cuisines.’ The food portion you got was too much for you and Beelzebub asked if he could eat your leftovers. You don’t mind it much and give it to him.

You laughed to yourself, ‘This is going to be some interesting year i got.’

[ambre-gris]

Warning: personal rant! Omfg things are a mess. My dad died in February, from cancer. He had suffered from a form of leukemia for years but last December, he was diagnosed with prostate cancer. The autopsy results said it had spread even to his bones - he only started seeking treatment when it was too late. I'm not sad. I last spoke with him in 2020. But I have to deal with what he left behind: a literal junkyard. I have not found a will. He had been a hoarder and his house is in utter disrepair, I'd say it's beyond repair.

My mom keeps bugging me about selling the property and house to make profit, because she paid half of it when they got married. Thing is... They divorced in 2017 and being my dad's only child on paper - I have a half-sister who is over 10 years older than me and my dad was in her life long before I was even born but he never adopted her (he always felt insecure about the that my mom had been with someone else - to the point that he let it affect how he treated my sister). So that being the case, I am the sole heir. I wish I wasn't. It's painstaking to do this all alone: to suss out the papers, living far away, having no car, trying to write a thesis and work full time simultaneously.

I went there last month to organize some papers, clean up rotting biowaste, figuring out what to do with the ant-infested parts of house.... Someone had unplugged the freezer and I nearly threw up when I opened it, not knowing what awaited me. I could not stay there longer than two hours, the strong odors triggered a massive migraine later. I wish that freezer would just combust and burn everything down to the ground.

In addition to all this, I've been meaning to search for a therapist. I have been writing emails to potential therapists for TWO YEARS. I'm at my wit's end at this point. I don't have the energy to write a hearfelt request to 20 therapists each month (most of whom aren't even the type of therapist I should be seeing), for them to just say no, no one is available. I thought I was ready to fight for this but I guess I'm not. This is too rough on the soul right now. I am going to deal with this situation, somehow, but there's no way that rotten shack can bring any profit to my mom, or me. She doesn't understand how things work - my dad did all the work for her, even after the divorce. I have to explain things to her, and she gets angry if things don't work how she thinks "they should". My mom keeps offering to pay half of the bills but she wants the money back, so I'll just pay the bills from my own pocket and hope to get tax deductions later. I don't care anymore. I have a job that pays ok, so I'm not going to be bankrupt from doing this. What's wonky is that I wasn't even on good terms with my dad. The last text he sent me was over a year ago, and he asked me if Covid had killed me yet? Why am I even bothering with this? Even though my dad can't physically or verbally hurt me anymore, what he left behind still weighs on my shoulders. At one point, I felt guilty I had not attempted to reconcile. But you know what? I sure as hell don't anymore. Everything around me, everything that falls apart just proves he was a toxic person inside out, drove everyone away from him, cared more about alcohol than people. My mom says she keeps visiting his grave but she cannot bear to go to his house. I don't understand why she even cares. He was rotten towards her, and only showed her kindness when he was dying. I wanted to respect his wishes and I chose to have him buried in a coffin, not cremated, because I remembered him being against it. Now I'm just angry about it, about caring. I always gave him the benefit of the doubt in the end. Even after the hurtful things he said and never apologized for, never truly understanding how hurtful they were, refusing to listen to me, because he was uncomfortable with taking responsibility for his words and actions. The therapist I saw for a year, told me during one session: "If your parents were able to own up to their actions and objectively reflect on them, you would have been able to discuss your problems years ago." That opened my eyes and I was able to forgive myself for no longer wanting to try so hard.

Full disclosure: I miss my dog way more than I miss him. I'm not sure I even miss him. She was my angel, and I never felt that I wanted to do something else or be somewhere else when we were together. Staying at home, going on a walk on a rainy night, didn't matter. Every moment with her was valuable in itself.

That doesn't mean no one should mourn their parents. It doesn't mean anything except that at best, I have ambiguous feelings toward my dad. Everything he ever did for me was transactional. Same for my mom. At least I hope I will be able to cut loose more from all this after it's over. My bio family won't ever be "home" for me. I've made my home with my friends, and maybe one day I'll start my own, independent from my birth family. Such is life for some folks. Not all of us get great cards dealt at birth. What matters is what you make of your life, try to make it the best you can, the kind you can live without regrets.

[starlightxsvt]

3 dates | c.sc

pairing ➳ badboy!Seungcheol x female!reader

genre ➳ badboy au, romance, some fluff, angst, bad attempt at humour, gets spicy at the end.

word count ➳ 12.4k+ (i have NO idea how this became so long so strap in for a ride)

warnings ➳ cursing, mentions of killing, mentions criminal activities, slight violence(non explicit), smoking, ma man Seungcheol ain't your typical badboy, self doubt, blackmailing, reader does all sorts of risky things cuz she's a SIMP, blood(nothing explicit), kissing, marking, some breast worshipping, grinding, reader is horny lol. (Please lemme know if I forgot anything.)

synopsis ➳ after one fateful encounter with him you cannot get him out of your head. so you opt to do some crazy things to catch his attention and even snag a few dates with him. only trouble is he isn't the type to stay after the whole disposition is over.

Swirling the third drink in your hand you heave yet another depressed sigh. You are so tired that you feel like you can just slump on the counter and pass out. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to stop for a drink, you alcohol riddled brain thinks.

The plans you had with Katelyn was cancelled last moment; she called to tell you that her thesis submission date was moved forward and so she couldn't hang out with you tonight. You're in the middle of an existential crisis quite literally, the too many part time jobs yet still lack of money and copious amounts of study getting to you. Staring hard at your drink you contemplate if it is worth giving up on college and your dream of becoming an arts major. It sure feels tempting right now, the long hours at the diner and not enough sleep at night proving to be the worst nuisance.

Sighing you put down your drink. It's still early, you should go home and try to catch up on the much needed sleep. You really had no intention of grabbing a drink tonight; you have morning classes tomorrow but you made a last moment decision to stop for a drink on your way back home. You didn't take your usual route to home today, and while trudging through the streets tiredly you came across this bar called Seventeen's. You've heard stories about this place, how it is the home to local gangs and how it's bad people's turf and what not. Your curiosity, probably too much of that made you get inside for a drink even though all the bones in your body ached. The inside is what you expected, nowhere near fancy but dingy, just decent enough. The people inside didn't look friendly and if the chains and tattoos on them gave any indication you'd say the rumours are true; this is the turf of gangs. The drinks taste decent, not the best but not the worst and from the overall look of this place you don't really have a reason to come back.

You're about to stand up from your stool when a large, clammy hand grabs your wrist out of nowhere, making you jump. "Hey sexy, sit down. Let me buy you a drink," the owner of the hand, a large, tattooed middle aged man slurs making your nose scrunch out of disgust. You're wearing nothing that can be called sexy; a plain cardigan and jeans and the way he looks you up and down makes you want to poke his eyes out.

You really shouldn't have come here. Clenching your jaw, you meet his eyes, "What makes you think I'm interested to have a drink with you?"

"Oh come on, why would you be here then, lookin' all nice? Just sit down," the man drawls, an ugly smile on his face. He still hasn't let go of your wrist and it's making you impatient. Looks like you're gonna have to kick his balls tonight. Maybe the self defense classes didn't completely go to waste.

"Get your disgusting hands off me while I'm being nice, sleazeball," you hiss at him, trying to get his hand off. The man stands up growling, "What did you say you bitch?" You're preparing to break his nose when out of nowhere a punch lands on his face that sends him tumbling to the ground. The attacker gets on top of him and twists his arm and you can literally hear a bone snap.

Shit.

"I think she said she is not interested," the man hisses, landing yet another another hit on his face before kicking his groin and getting up. When he turns around and his eyes meet yours, your heart skips a few beats and you almost The man is drop dead gorgeous, someone you would not expect to see here but probably on the cover of a high end magazine. His blond hair is long, crossing the nape of his neck as well as some covering his forehead. What takes your breath away the most is his eyes, the most beautiful pair you've ever seen. They seem to have their own galaxies in them, so deep and mesmerising and decorated with lashes long enough to make you jealous. His dress up, black jacket and jeans, immediately tells you what he is; a gang member.

"You should get home, lady," He speaks in a no nonsense tone, his face cold as ice. But you're offended. "Excuse me? Who are you calling lady? You make it sound like I'm old." You puff your cheeks and cross your arms, trying to appear intimidating. "Besides I had the situation under control, you didn't need to butt in." The man keeps looking at you with that no nonsense look, his features displaying annoyance if you are right and he's clearly not intimidated. The dude on the floor grunts and makes an effort to get up, only to be kicked by your saviour once more. "Hey Mingyu, get him out of here. What was this piece of trash doing here anyway?" The man orders to someone before turning to look at you, "Do you live far?"

"Uh- no, a ten minutes walk from here maybe," you reply unsurely, surprised at his question. The blond haired man nods before grabbing your wrist, "I'll walk you home. Hurry up, lady." You have a feeling he's purposely calling you that and though you start following him out of the bar, you make grunts of protest.

"Oh yeah, why? Trying to find out my address? So you can come later and hurt me like that guy?" You would not be this brazen if it wasn't for the alcohol in your system, after all the man next you isn't a friendly one if the rumours are true. The man raises a brow at you, "Did you do something that requires me to beat you up?" You hiccup at his serious tone. Does he not get a joke? He lets go of your hand now that you're at a safe distance from the bar but still stays close enough to you as your steps are rather stumbling and messy. You aren't fully drunk but your body is tired and feels like will shut down any second.

You really need some sleep.

"You know I'm not that drunk. You don't have to walk me home." You complain. "I'm walking you home because this isn't a nice place you should be alone at night. What happened earlier could happen again." He says not looking at you. "Mhmm," you keep on trudging behind him, "Thank you so much for your kind gesture, sir." You mock him but he doesn't reply, staring straight ahead, completely ignoring you as he walks quietly. In silence you two walk the rest of the path, before finally stopping as your apartment comes into view. At this point it feels like your bones will break and you will plop down on the concrete any second, but you manage to keep standing. "Well, thanks for walking me home." You shift your weight from one foot to another. "And for helping me back there." He shrugs coolly, a bored expression on his face. He's turning to walk away when you call, "Hey- I didn't get your name."

"What do you need it for?" He side glances at you. You shrug, "I don't know. You helped me so I thought it'd be nice to know your name." "You don't need to. Go inside, lady." He says, his tone final and starts marching away. You wait a couple moments before yelling, "Asshole!" and quickly rushing inside your building, partly afraid he's gonna come back.

You won't be surprised if you get killed tonight.

-

"So you are telling me Choi Seungcheol walked you home?" Katelyn screams in your ear, jolting up from her seat, earning glares from other people at the library in the process. "That's his name?" You whisper-yell, grabbing her hand to pull her back down. "I'm guessing from the blond hair you said," Katelyn shrugs. "Uh huh." You mean back in your chair, "He was hot though."

"Is that seriously all you have to say?" Katelyn whines exasperatedly. "No, I mean, if it wasn't for the way he dresses or talks I would have thought he's a model or something." You murmur.

"Are you sure he didn't hurt you?" Katelyn questions. "Hell no!" You frown. "He saved me from that creepy old dude. I was surprised too. I wish I didn't drink so much, I could have gotten a better look at his face," you sigh. "Seriously?" Katelyn raises a brow at you.

"Girl, you should have seen him. His aura and the way he carried himself was...so hot." You grin to yourself. Katelyn watches you like you've grown two heads. "Are you trying to tell me you have a crush on that gangster?" You smile sheepishly, "Maybe, I mean it's harmless. He was broody yet charming and I'm a girl so.... Also, it's not like he likes me too and is gonna come running whenever I ask him to bang me." You mutter.

"Oh he's gonna break your bones and bang your skull against a wall. That's what he's gonna do."

"Come on! Maybe he isn't so bad. Maybe the rumours are just rumours. Maybe he just looks intimidating and dresses up like that and people thinks he's a gangster." "Really? His name is on every bad thing that happens around here. From illegal racing to murders. Do you know that people say he has killed too?" "Like I said, rumours," you shrug being your stubborn self. Katelyn holds her hands up in surrender, "You know what? It doesn't matter. I'm glad you're alive so let's just put this behind us, shall we?" You don't reply but wiggle your brows at her, a conspirational look on your face. "Oh no, don't look at me like that," Katelyn warns. "Let's go to that bar tonight. Please?" You give her your best puppy eyes. "What are you? Fucking crazy? You wanna get killed?" She whisper-yells, scowling at you. "No. I just wanna take another look at him. Without the alcohol in my system you know. Besides, the place isn't that bad." You reply.

"Well then get killed by yourself. I'm not coming with you."

"I'll help you with your papers for the rest of the semester."

"Shit."

-

"Well, looks like your wish won't be coming true," Katelyn muses chugging down her fourth glass as you keep playing with your first one. It's nearing an hour since you've come to the bar and there has been no sign of the man you desperately seek. The place is exactly like it was the other day, filled with people who you wouldn't want to mess with.

Yet here you are.

"Let's call it a night," Katelyn sighs. "We're just wasting our time." You know that too but you don't want to leave; not just yet. You are well aware that this is just pathetic but you've this crazy urge to see that man once again. You don't know why you feel this way; you never felt like this before. Why are thinking yourself to death about a complete stranger? Has some kind of spell been casted on you?

"Yeah, let's get going," you murmur half heartedly. You help your friend stand up as she's a little wobbly on her feet and together you make your way through the door. "Should we call a cab?" You ask Katelyn. She shakes her head no and you nod, you arms wrapped around hers to support her in case she looses her balance. You start stepping away from the bar and towards the road to her place until a noise from behind makes you stop in your tracks.

"Did you hear that?" You ask, whipping your head behind. There's no one around and the street is mostly dark other than the light flashing from the name of the bar. You hear the sound once again and this time you can locate where it's coming from. There's an abandoned playground at the back of the bar and you've a feeling that's the source.

Katelyn hisses as she sees you step towards there. "What are you doing!"

"Didn't you hear that?"

"Yes I did. That's why I say we leave!" You ignore her and cautiously keep on stepping forward, mentally cursing yourself for wearing heels. Katelyn follows behind you murmuring all kinds of warnings. "You know curiosity killed the cat, right?" She whispers.

You roll your eyes, "Well I'm not a cat. Just- be quiet. It can be nothing." You both move past the bar gingerly and towards the playground at the back. There are old gallons of oil and abandoned materials just around the corner and you two quickly hide among them. It takes you a while to get adjusted to the low light after you poke your head up from the hiding spot.

You're eyes fix on him immediately. His blond hair makes him easily recognisable amid the darkness. There is a few more people around him, all kicking something in the ground. Not something, but someone. The man lying on the ground groans in pain and you realize this is what you both heard. "Shit," You hear Katelyn curse from beside you. "We need to get going." Instead of replying, you keep your eyes trained on the scene unfolding, holding your breath. You're tranced. Seungcheol lands continuous punched on the guy laying below him and after a moment his writhing frame seems to stop moving as it falls limp.

Fuck.

"You know in movies this is the part where people get caught." Katelyn whispers, her voice hoarse and her hand clutching yours in a tugging motion. "Uh-huh. But I can't seem to move. I wonder if he's... really dead." You whisper back. "Are you fucking crazy!" She hisses. "You wanna witness murder?"

Before you can reply you hear a sound that echoes through the empty field and it takes a second for you two to realise that it came from any one of you two. You don't have the time to figure out who made it as you both are crawling away from the playground without looking back, head crouched low to avoid being seen. You don't know if they heard that or if they're coming behind you, you both just keep scrambling, moving until you're past the corner. As soon as possible you both get on your feet and run like the grim reaper is chasing you, stopping only when you are far enough from the bar.

"I am never listening to you again!" Katelyn yells.

-

It's been a good few days since your near death experience and you somehow find yourself in front of that bar once again. You and Katelyn have not brought up that incident after that night. You made yourself believe that it was over and came to a conclusion that it is better to forget that man and leave all of it behind, no matter how much your heart disagreed. But it's easier said than done; you may not mention him out loud but in the back of your mind you think of him. He's like a ghost, haunting you all the time, plagueing your thoughts when you go to bed at night. It felt like he was ever existent and there was an itch in your heart that drove you insane.

Maybe that's why your subconscious brought you here, in front of Seventeen's, once again. You were on your way back home from library and you thought you took your usual route, until you realized you were standing in front of that place. But what is even terrifying is that the man haunting your mind stands in front of the entrance of the bar and you blink a few times to make sure you are not hallucinating. He's leaned against the entrance door, cigarette between his lips and from his pocket he fetches a lighter to light the poison in his mouth.

Damn, lighting up a cigarette never looked this sexy.

He hasn't seen you yet and you contemplate running the other way. That's the sensible thing to do but you, not being a sensible person, start walking towards him. Your footsteps make him look up and notice you and like the last time, there is no expression on his face. It's the same bored yet handsome face except now in daylight you can take a better look at him and this time, you notice a little mole on the left of his face, by his nose. Realising he's gonna stay silent you decide to speak, "Hi... It's me... Do you remember me?" Wow. That's such an intelligent thing to ask.

With the monotoned yet serious expression on his face, he goes, "Why won't I? I don't have Alzheimer's."

So he can joke.

You laugh, an awkward, probably exaggerated laugh. "What are you doing here? Did you not learn your lesson last time?" He cuts to the chase, his voice brassy and deep, almost threatening. You want to roll your eyes. "Who are you to say? I can be wherever I want whenever I want, thank you very much." "Well then, have fun getting in trouble like last time." He's nonchalant as he blows a smoke right past you and stands up straight, turning away. "Wait!" You almost grab his hand, desperate to stop him.

What is wrong with you? Your subconscious slaps her forehead. What are you holding him back for? To say 'hello sir, I think you're hot, can you please put your dick inside me'? Seungcheol turns his head back, his eyebrow cocked up.

Why do you find everything about him so attractive?

"Um...I know your name, Seungcheol." You speak, trying to sound intimidating, like knowing his name gives you some power over him. There's something definitely wrong with you which is why you don't want him to leave just yet and which is why you're stalling time. But it seems to have done the job as he pulls the cigarette out of his mouth and turns towards you, an annoyed look on his face. "How do you know that?" The timbre of his tone is deep and it rakes shivers down your spine. "Well, you've built quite a reputation for yourself so it isn't hard to get your name." You shrug coolly. "Well, if you know so much about my reputation, you should know what I'm capable of." His lone is low, almost threating as he starts to take slow steps towards you making you step back out of reflex.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Maybe you will also end up like the curious cat.

"Oh yes, I know. People have got a lot to say about you," you try to sound unfazed, not meeting his eyes that you feel are burning holes on your face. "What are you doing here, lady?" he asks slowly, pausing between each word and glaring at you as he continues to step forward. You can feel his patience thinning.

"I swear to God if you call me that-"

"What are you doing here?" This time his tone is scary, too scary. It makes you lose the ability to speak for a second as his dark gaze bores into you. He has backed you up against the wall behind you and you swallow. Right, what are you doing here? It probably has something to do with a very hot individual and his insanely attractive aura. Scratch that you are a hundred percent sure it has something to do with the blond haired, enticing man in front of you. He's driving you mad and you need to get your fill of him.

"Go out with me," you state and you are sure you've never spoken words more stupid than that. Internally, you cringe and pray that the ground below you would open and take you straight to the fiery pits.

This is the first time you see some sort of expression come across his face; surprise. He looks utterly shocked and somewhat confused. His mouth opens just a little and he squints at you, "What?"

There's no going back now.

"Go out with me. Let's go on three dates." you say once more, looking him in the eye. He seems to appear even more surprised, a dumbstruck look sitting on his face. He observes you quietly for a while and you can feel the gears in his head shifting. You wonder what he's gonna say next. Or maybe he won't say anything but bang your head on the wall and leave you to die alone. "I'm sorry I'm not following," he looks genuinely perplexed. "I want to go on three dates with you. They say after three dates you can figure out whether you like that person or not and I think I like you so..."

I think I like you.

The biggest understatement of the year.

Seungcheol tilts his head, an amused expression on his face as he studies you, those sharp eyes of his settling on yours, "What is your deal, sweetheart?" He crosses his arms, a brow raised. Sweetheart? That's new. And definitely better than lady. You can't deny how hearing him call you that makes your insides melt. "Nothing. I just want to date you," you shrug, trying to keep your wits together. His proximity is driving you wild; you can sniff a faint smell of cologne and cigarette, him being inches away from you. This time he laughs loudly, a mocking laugh you'd say. "Who sent you?"

Oh my god.

You roll your eyes. "Nobody sent me! Do I look like I'm a gang member or something?" "Then I don't see a reason why you'd want to date me," He states, throwing a challenging look at you.

"What if I said I have a thing for bad boys?"

He snorts. "You don't look the type to date bad boys," he mocks. "Who are you to say that?" You cross your arms. "I want to date you because I think you're hot, okay?" You can not believe you just said that. Looks like you don't have control over your mouth anymore. Warmth spreads throughout your face like a forest fire.

Seungcheol narrows his eyes on you, his tongue poking his cheek as he stands in front of you as if trying to read your mind. After a beat he sighs before looking at you, his eyes becoming darker than usual and his gaze unforgiving. "Hey. Does it look like I'm playing house here? Do you have any idea about the shit I do? The dirty work I do? I don't care if you have a fucking fetish or whatever but this is the last time I'm warning you. I don't want to see you around again. If I see you here once more, you're in fucking trouble," he spits and starts stomping away. His tone is serious and you know very well he is not joking, which is why you use your last resort. You're embarrassed at yourself for being so desperate but at the same time you feel shameless. It has almost turned into a game at this point, you want to make him surrender. That's right, you want him to give in. "You shouldn't be like that with me. I saw you, a few days ago. That night, when you and your friends were beating up that guy...in the playground," you casually stroll to come stand right behind him.

You can't believe you are blackmailing a gangster. Your death must be near.

Seungcheol whips his head back, his eyes glaring at you and you can almost see fire in them. Finally, you got his attention.

"My friend also saw it, we both did. You killed him, didn't you? Me and my friend witnessed a murder. What do you say? Should we go to the station?" You can see his jaw clench and you can't hold back a victorious smirk. Moments pass by as your words hang in the air and the tension between you gets thicker. Yet once more he surprises you, breaking the silence with a chuckle, "Well I killed one person, what makes you think I can't take care of another?"

You swallow.

"Well, my friend already knows so if I go missing you can be sure that the cops will come to you first." You throw back at him.

When did you get so wreckless?

Seungcheol stares at you for a few more seconds before shrugging and moving his hand dismissively, "Well then go tell the cops. I don't give a shit." He starts walking back to the bar leaving you starstruck. He stops and turns towards you before opening the door, "Also, I meant it. I hope I don't see you around. Otherwise I may just have to hurt that pretty face."

-

You don't show up after that.

Mostly because you are embarasssed.

It's been a good while after your last encounter with Seungcheol and you didn't go to the police, obviously. Because you don't have evidence and from what you've heard Seungcheol is pretty influential around here and you don't need to go to an extent to get on his bad side. You're definitely gonna end up dead if you do so, which you don't want just yet.

Classes have just finished and you and Katelyn step out of the classroom together, walking through the hallways and into the main campus. She rambles on about some bad sushi she ate yesterday while your mind remains preoccupied. Maybe you need to get laid. Maybe that'll make you forget about Seungcheol. You just need good dick that's probably why you were so desperate for him.

That's just a stupid lie.

You don't realise Katelyn is calling you until she shakes you by the shoulder and you snap back into reality. You notice her face is as pale as a ghost and following her line of sight your eyes stop on him.

Him. Seungcheol.

What?

You double take, blinking furiously to confirm your vision. He's standing there, in the parking area of your uni, leaned against a convertible Ferrari, a cigarette between his lips. He looks relaxed, like he does this regularly. Students whisper in each others ear while gawking at him curiously. "What did you do!" Katelyn yells. "Nothing!" You hiss back.

"Then why is he here!"

"I don't know!"

Your eyes meet with Seungcheol's and a smirk spreads across his face making you shiver. He stands up straight and tilts his head, an indication for you to come closer to him. "Fuck, he's here for me," you mumble. "Of course he's here for you, dumbass," Katelyn snaps. "Well, if I don't return, you know who killed me." You sigh starting to walk towards him. "Wait- you're going with him?" She asks incredulously.

"Don't worry. I'll keep my phone on. I don't think he's gonna murder me, I mean there are so many witnesses." You inhale deeply, leaving behind a lost looking Katelyn.

Seungcheol says nothing as you stand right in front of him raising an inquisitive brow but he only holds open the door for you to get in. Deciding to follow him you enter the car quietly and a wave of gasps go through the crowd.

There's gonna be talk about this tomorrow.

Seungcheol, still smirking victoriously for some reason rounds the car and gets inside and within seconds you're hitting the road. There's a thick silence for a while, which feels like ages to you. You're overwhelmed, bewildered to say anything; your poor brain still processing what is happening. You're nervous, jittery as you fiddle with you bag and look out on your side, for some reason scared to look at him.

What if he really kills you? He wouldn't, right?

"You're awfully quiet," Seungcheol says matter of factly as he spares you a glance while driving.

"I'm... processing."

"What are you, a robot?"

"Why are you doing this?" You question instead.

"Doing what?"

"Okay, you know very well what I mean. Why are you picking me up from uni all of a sudden? How do you even know I'm a student there?" "I have resources and...you didn't protest at all. You came along nicely," Seungcheol raised a brow at you, a cocky smile on his lips. You don't answer but continue to stare at him, trying to pin him down with your gaze. He finally sighs and pulls the car to a stop by the side of the road, the sudden brake making you slightly jerk in your seat. "I've decided to give you those 3 dates. That's why," He is calm, unreadable and you wonder if this is a prank. Then again, he has no reason to prank you, does he? "Really?" Your voice comes out breathy. "Yes. I thought I'd give you a taste of how it feels to be with someone like me. I can scare people without physically hurting them you know," He says in a menacing tone.

"So what? You're taking me to an underground fight or something?" You question. "Nah, we're keeping it simple today." He smirks as he starts the car again and turns on the radio, an indication that he doesn't want to converse anymore.

Shamelessly you take a good look at Seungcheol; he's dressed in another jacket today paired with a black tee underneath. Today, you notice he has upped his accessory game, his fingers full of rings and chains dangling from his neck. But what catches your attention is a tattoo, something like a dragon and words written in a language you don't understand, peeking from underneath his sleeve. You almost ask about it but decide it'll probably be too much and he wouldn't answer you anyway.

As you do so, in the back of your mind you think you should have dressed better, something cuter, more appropriate for a date rather than a plain blouse and jeans. But then again who knew Choi Seungcheol was gonna show up out of the blue. You're gnawing at your lower lip, lost in your thoughts when the car is pulled to a halt and you realize your ride is over. You're parked in front of a diner called Lacy's and from the vibe that the place is giving, you can tell that this is place where people like him hang out. You raise a questioning brow at Seungcheol who says, "I know it doesn't look fancy but trust me I has some of the best food I've ever eaten." Taking his words for now you quickly type out a text to Katelyn letting her know you're in one piece and get out of the car.

Once you're seated you look around the place which is relatively empty except some men playing pool at the far end. You watch Seungcheol who has gone to the reception booth to place your orders; his posture relaxed as he leans against the counter and talks to the girl standing there. They seem to know each other because their chat takes longer than it should and the girl has a shy, almost flirty smile on her face.

He probably fucks her.

You shake the thought off your head as the gangster comes back and sits in front of you. There's silence for a second as you wonder if you should just ask the questions that run free around your mind. "Are the rumours true?" You blurt out. He's raises a brow.

"About you. You know..."

"Do you want them to be true?" He asks back. "I don't...know," you reply. "Well, I think it depends on each person. If you want it to be true it is true, if you don't it isn't," he shrugs, leaning back in his chair. "Why don't you just give me a straight answer?" you snap. He smirks as if he's having fun but doesn't reply, watching you with his arms crossed. You roll your your eyes, blowing out an exasperated breath. "You know, I haven't seen one like you. Willingly hanging out with dangerous people, going to dangerous places. You say you saw me kill someone yet you're here. You're almost desperate to get in trouble," he observes. "I'm not desperate to get in trouble. I just...I'm just- attracted to you alright?" This is so embarrassing. You need to shut your mouth. "You've been on my mind ever since that night. I wanna see exactly how deep I'm into you." You bite your lip.

That's enough. You will boost his ego through the roof like this.

Seungcheol studies you for a bit before grinning cockily, "Well, if you didn't know, I am trouble baby. Just you being with me might end you up in a mess." Before you can reply, your food is served, that same girl from the booth setting down your plates and looking at Seungcheol for a bit too long with that same stupid smile which he returns. You don't know why but you feel jealous, jealous of whatever these two share, whatever she has with him.

You've lost your mind at this point. You're on a high that is Seungcheol. He has made you forget your morals, made you completely lose your mind. Or maybe you've been too good all your life and seeing him brought out that crazy, thrill seeking part of yourself.

Silently you dig into your food and as Seungcheol said, the food is really good. This is one of the best meatloaf you've ever had and you can't help but moan. Seungcheol watches you with an amused smile before popping a fry in his mouth.

"What's your major?" Seungcheol asks out of the blue.

"Uh- sociology."

"Mmhmm."

You're about to ask him what he studied in college but you assume he probably never went to one so you seal your lips. You wonder what his background is and who his parents are but you don't want to get too personal on the first day. So you ask something else, "How old are you?" He laughs out loud before he deadpans, "Thirty five." "What!" You almost choke.

There's no way he's-

"Why? What did you expect?"

"I... I don't know! A few years older than me? You're kidding right? You don't look thirty five." He has to be bluffing. "And how old would you be?" "You shouldn't ask a woman her age," you try to make a point. "Don't you have any manners?" He smirks,"I don't, sweetheart. To answer your question, I'm twenty eight."

Uh huh.

"Well, I'm twenty one," you mutter under your breath. You don't know if he hears it because he doesn't give any reaction, busy twirling a fry in sauce. The rest of your meal is full of silence as you wonder if your date will end like this; dry and boring. He's awfully silent and seems to be lost in thoughts as he doesn't engage in a conversation. You're about to take your last bite when the silence is broken by him.

"What did you see that night?" He leans over, his elbows resting on the table as he suddenly regards you with a sombre look, his earlier cockiness vanished. His eyes have once again gone dark and his demeanor says he's not being superficial right now. You're caught off guard as you cough loudly, reaching for your glass to take a sip of water. "What?"

"You heard me. What did you see that night? Exactly how much did you see?" He repeats. You're confused. You thought he didn't care about it. He said it didn't matter. So why is he bringing it up now? You've worked hard to push that night in the deepest part of your brain, pretending it didn't happen.

And then suddenly it clicks.

"You!" You point an accusatory finger at him as you catch on to his plan. "You've agreed to go out with me so that you can find out what I saw that night!" Seungcheol groans, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Ugh, just fucking tell me!" He snaps, annoyed that you've found out his little scheme. You scoff, "I thought you said you didn't care? Besides it's not like I'm going to tell the police." He rolls his eyes and leans back into the couch. "Just tell me and let me go."

You're baffled. His actions didn't make any sense and you actually thought he had no other intentions behind dating you but holy shit this sneaky bastard. "You sly little asshole!" You hiss at him. "Call me that once more and you'll regret it." He threatens. You roll your eyes sagging back into your seat, "Whatever." Then an idea hits you. "You know what, I'll tell you exactly how much I saw that night." You have Seungcheol's full attention now as he stares intensely at you, waiting for your next words. "On our third date. When this whole deal is over, I'll tell you. But in return you'll have to keep your promise and take me out on two more dates."

"Oh fucking hell," he groans rubbing his face in frustration. His state makes you smirk and you feel accomplished.

Choi Seungcheol is stressed because of you.

What a day to be alive.

You murmur, "Besides this isn't even a proper date. This was more like an interrogation. But I'll go easy on you and won't make you redo this date." You give him a sweet smile and he sees red. You can literally see fury blaze in his eyes. "Whatever!" He yells and abruptly stands up. "I don't have time for this. Your stupid play date is over. I'm dropping you home."

Before you can reply, he's marching towards the door. You've to admit this wasn't the best date but at least you've trapped Choi Seungcheol.

-

It has been a good week after your so called date at the diner and you haven't heard from him. You expected him to call or text you since he was gracious enough to ask for your number but he didn't. You now realize it was a mistake to not get his number; you had asked him for his when he took yours but being the prick he is he denied to hand over his number to you. You should have forced him to, you sigh. As you sit in the library the ping of your mobile distracts you from your racing thoughts as you realize you have a message. Picking the device up you tap on the notification. Even though it was from an unknown number, you have no trouble figuring out who it is from. A smile graces your lips as you read the words over again.

I'll pick you up from your house tomorrow evening at six.

That's all it says and that is good enough to send a thrum of excitement throughout your body.

-

You have not held back in dressing up today and you realize it's been a long time since you've dolled up yourself. A long before the clock strikes 6 you are ready; dressed in a cute pastel top and a matching skirt. You've also went ahead and applied makeup, not too much but just enough to maybe catch his eye. Maybe.

You wonder what he has planned for today.

A text from Seungcheol saying he's here has you flying out of your apartment as fast as your feet can carry your desperate self to see him. He stands in front of your apartment with his convertible, dressed in a white jacket that matched his pants. You take a deep breath before walking towards him, trying to calm all your nerves down.

"You know I expected to hear from you earlier. I've been waiting all week," you voice makes his head turn around to meet your eyes as you are skipping towards him with a teasing smile in your face. "I've been busy," he shrugs coolly, his eyes going over your whole body, from your legs to your face. He doesn't hide that he's taking a good look at you, in fact does it unashamedly.

You wonder if he likes what he sees.

Someone dressed up today," he comments. "Too bad we aren't going to a place where you can show off your pretty clothes." You frown, "Where are we going?" Seungcheol holds open the door, a mischievous smile on his face. "I've decided to grant your wish." With a confused face you get inside the car, the gears in your head running. What does he mean?

"I'm taking you to an underground fighting ring," he says with smirk as he reaches for something behind his seat. He pulls out a large hoodie and tosses it towards you, "Put this on. Otherwise you are going to attract a lot of attention and you don't want that." You gulp, taking the hoodie and putting it on you. You're slightly embarrassed. You were so excited to try this outfit but it's not like you knew he was taking you to a fight club. Hell you would have dressed like a guy if you knew. You shrug on the hoodie and it falls almost to your knees but it's huge and comfy and most importantly it smells like him. There's a hint of cologne, nothing too strong; a subtle, expensive scent that makes you want to take a deeper sniff. You wonder if you can keep this with you.

Stop it, pervert.

Seungcheol's voice pulls you out of your haze, "You can take it off later. Just wear it until we're out of there," he says and brings the engine to life.

Then you actually think about it. Underground fighting ring? Holy shit. You were only kidding when you mentioned it. Admittedly, you're shocked, somewhat horrified. Everyone knows it isn't the best place to be at especially for someone like you who never had such an experience. Seungcheol must have seen your expression because the smile on his face gets bigger, "Why? You not up for it?" His voice is teasing.

He's challenging you.

Oh well.

"Of course I'm up for it," you square your shoulders, keeping your voice cool. "Bring it on."

-

Seungcheol leads you into a bar and then through a door at the back that leads down to a lot of stairs, reaching a place similar to an underground parking lot. Quietly you follow Seungcheol, staying as close to him as possible, your bodies occasionally touching. He leads you to a pair of double doors and from the other side you can hear men shouting and chanting.

This is it, I guess.

Seungcheol throws one more smile at you before pushing open the doors as you scramble to follow him closely. The sight that greets you something you only see in movies. There's a boxing ring where two people are throwing punches at each other and surrounding them from all sides is a wild, loud and excited crowd. They continue to cheer loudly as the two men in the ring continue to box and you hear their grunts and groans.

Holy shit.

Swallowing your eyes meet Seungcheol's who is regarding you with curiosity. "What do you think?" He has to speak loudly for you to hear over the screaming throng. "Uh... It's loud," you say dumbly as you try to think of a reply. But it's too loud for you to even think properly as you take in your unfamiliar surroundings. You see a tall man approaching towards you and out of reflex you shuffle closer to Seungcheol until you realize it's his friend. The guy from the first night. He and Seungcheol grin at each other, patting their backs as they talk close to each others ears. You gawk at them curiously and realize they must be talking about you because his friend takes curious glances at you occasionally. His friend is tall, really tall and well built but unlike his body his face is sweet and puppy like, almost cute. When he grins his canines pop up just like a puppy and you wonder if all his friends are good looking.

After he's done chatting with his friend Seungcheol pulls you close and says, "This is my friend. Mingyu. Always stay near him, you hear me? Don't stray away unless you wanna get hurt." His eyes are stern as he pins you down with his stare but you have other thoughts running in your head.

"What do you mean? Where are you going?" You yell over the noise.

He just smirks at you and starts taking his jacket off. "About time you see how we do it around here." His tone is cocky as he hands his jacket to you, "Hold this for me. And stay close to him."

Giving a look at Mingyu Seungcheol starts walking away towards a door that you're guessing is the changing room.

He's gonna fight.

"Wait- but-" Mingyu stops you with a hand on your shoulder and offers you a kind smile. "It's fine. Just stay with me." He then ushers you towards the crowd, spotting a place where you can get a good look at the ring. "Do you guys do this often?" You look up at Mingyu. He smiles sheepishly, "Not me. I tried a few times and I always end up beaten to a pulp. But hyung does this often, he's really good."

"Uh huh, I'm sure he is," you smile dryly. "This is your first time watching a fight, no?" "Definitely." He grins, "Watch carefully then. It's really fun."

You have your doubts on how watching people beat each other up can be fun but you don't comment anything, instead chew on your lip anxiously. Seungcheol really didn't have to go this far? What if he gets hurt badly? Is he trying to impress you?

Don't flatter yourself, your subconscious rolls her eyes.

As the loud cheering that had died down ensues again, your train of thoughts are halted as you see Seungcheol in shorts and his hands covered in boxing gloves, step into the ring. You can't help but ogle at his naked torso, his finely defined and chiseled muscles. He has the perfect body, not too bulky, not too lean just the right amount that gives you a hard time taking your eyes off him. He seems to have noticed your gaze because the second your eyes meet, he throws a haughty, knowing smirk at you. Embarrassed you avert your gaze elsewhere.

His opponent is a muscular man who's growling and banging his chest with his fists, a gesture of intimidation, you suppose. You are definitely intimidated and you wonder if Seungcheol can actually win against him.

The fight starts with a whistle and in mere seconds they are on to each other, throwing punches left and right. Your eyes have a hard time keeping up with them and their fast reflexes and your hands fly to your mouth as a punch lands on Seungcheol's face, followed by repeated blows as Seungcheol falls back. There's a moment of silence as he wipes his bottom lip and you realize there's a cut.

He tilts his neck, popping the bones and glaring at the other man before launching himself on top of his opponent. The next moments are a blurry mess, Seungcheol beating the guy repeatedly until he ends up on the floor but he doesn't stop there. Seungcheol ends it with a sharp jab to his spine and you have no doubt the other man has broken bones with the ways he howls in pain. The match comes to an end like that as the people cheer wildly while Seungcheol steps down from the stage. Mingyu grins at you happily as if what you witnessed was just a regular occurrence, something you should be cheerful about. Shaking your head at the situation, you let out a deflated sigh.

Their life is really so different than yours.

-

Seungcheol seems to be in a very good mood after the fight as he buys you both some sandwiches and drinks from a deli after you both step out of the bar. You both sit down at a park nearby to eat and watch the night sky. "You know, I thought you were gonna lose," you speak after taking a few bites of the sandwich. Seungcheol scoffs, "You underestimate me, sweetheart. I've been doing this for a long time."

"Do you enjoy it?" You ask quietly, focused on peeling the wrapper from your food. You feel Seungcheol's stare on you. "Yes. Why? Are you scared already?"

"No. I was just... curious. Your definition and my definition of fun is totally different." You murmur. "Of course. What did you think? I go to the mall and shop and watch movies with my friends when I'm bored?" His tone is sarcastic. You bite your lip. "No I didn't. It's just...I feels different now that I have experienced it first hand." Seungcheol offers nothing more, taking a sip of his coke and leaning back into the bench. A silence stretches between the both of except the rustling of the wrapper of your food. "How long have you been doing this?" You blurt out. He frowns at you and you don't expect him to answer but he surprises you.

"For a long time."

He doesn't offer anymore and you don't have the heart to prod him for an actual answer. "And how long do you plan on doing this?"

"What?"

"I mean... don't you have any other plans. Like...do you wanna keep doing what you are doing for the rest of your life? Don't you wanna like... settle down maybe?" Your voice is soft as if you are talking to a child. Seungcheol looks annoyed. He doesn't speak for a while as he stares at the ground, a frown etched to his face. You're about to take back your question when he replies, "I really don't think you understand. I've been trying to tell you that my life is completely disparate to yours. So I don't think like you. I don't have plans like you but neither am I expected to follow a certain pattern like you. I can do whatever the fuck I want, ___. So don't look at me like you pity me. I'm the last person here that should be pitied. " His tone is sharp and it makes you feel bad, like a sensation of needles pricking your heart. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry," You whisper, feeling timid as you look down at your lap. He mutters, "Don't go poking your nose in other people's business. Specially people like me."

He's right. You shouldn't have asked that. You are not close enough to ask things like that. After that there is a silence, this time, an awkward one. There's palpable tension in the air and you feel jittery. Should you just ask him to take you home?

It's still early and truth be told, you don't want to leave him just yet. You only have one more date to go and judging by his reaction, he is in no way interested in a relationship. You heave out a long sigh. You knew very well what you were getting into, yet you couldn't stop yourself. Seungcheol is like a poison, the sweetest one, the one that has you addicted and unable to let go, no matter how much it hurts.

This is a fucking mess.

"Let's get going. I have plans," Seungcheol announces, standing up. You want to protest but you feel like you have ruined the mood, so you follow him mutely to his car.

The drive to your house is awfully quiet, to the point you want to scream out of frustration. Seungcheol seems to be lost in his head as he makes no move to talk. It's like you are alone, but you're not and it's worse, the air full of tension. Soon you have reached your house and he stops the car but keeps the engine rolling, indicating his rush. He keeps still and stares ahead while gripping the steering wheel as you step out of the car in silence. "Thanks for dropping me home," you say lamely, your voice meek. You turn around to walk away but his voice stops you in your tracks.

"I promised you three dates and I will keep my word. I expect you to keep yours, ___. I hope you will tell me what I want to hear when we meet next time." His tone is sharp with an edge of threat and you barely get to nod before he drives away.

It's not until you're inside your apartment that you realize you still have his hoodie on. Quickly fishing out your phone you type out a text.

I'm sorry, I forgot to return your hoodie.

After a while, his reply comes.

Keep it.

-

You watch Katelyn as she fills her lunch tray with food before walking over and taking a seat opposite to you. She looks extra radiant today, which probably has something to do with the way she's dressed; a bright colourful outfit which undoubtedly she put a lot of time into considering. She has a date, with a guy she has been talking to for the last few weeks. It reminds you of your pitiful situation and you sigh, trying to shrug off those thoughts.

It has been a good couple weeks since you last saw Seungcheol and you have not exchanged a word after that night. In the back of your mind you wonder if he is even alive. You want to message him, you really want to because you are going crazy but after how your last date ended, you can't bring yourself to. You are scared, exactly of what, you can't put your finger into.

The entire situation you have put yourself into is fucking scary. They say you become sure of your feelings after three dates but it did not take that much for you. You already are very certain about your feelings for him and how deep they run exactly and you also know that in the end you will be left scarred. He would never be yours. He has probably forgotten about you or decided that it is not worth another date to figure out what you saw that night.

You let a desperate, pitiable sigh.

"I know you are hiding things from me but I understand that you are not ready to talk yet. But I want you to know I am here for you okay?" Katelyn's voice makes you blink your way out of your thoughts. She squeezes your hand tightly and gives you a reassuring smile and you're left feeling guilty.

"I ...I will tell you. Soon. Just give me a bit more time," you whisper. She nods in understanding. A grateful smile touches your lips as her words make you emotional. Then there's a ping from your phone letting you know there's a message. Without giving it much thought you open the device and your eyes go wide.

I'll take you out for dinner tomorrow night. Wear something formal.

-

You wait outside your apartment for Seungcheol. Your day has passed by in a flurry of excitement and nerves as you carefully picked your outfit and did your hair and makeup. A soft baby pink dress that stopped just above you knees adorns you as your hair rests just above your neck in a loose bun.

You are fiddling with your fingers as you think about how this night is gonna end and wether you will ever see him again when a car screech that grabs your attention.

Seungcheol's convertible has taken a stop in front of you and you see the man getting out the vehicle and take big steps towards you.

You're mesmerized.

Perhaps there is not enough word in this world to describe his looks or perhaps you've simple lost the ability to speak; either way, you just stand and stare, drinking the godly man that stands in front of you. He looks delectable, completely flawless and agonizingly gorgeous in his sharp black suit and pants, with a silk black shirt underneath, the top couple buttons undone that reveals a beautiful porcelain skin. His hairstyle completes the look, parted to one side in a sleek way and showing his forehead and oh god is it sexy. You realize you have a forehead kink, if there is anything as such.

If you weren't in love with him before you are now.

He looks ravishing, and you wonder why it isn't illegal to look this good. It should be because you have completely lost control over yourself. Nothing exists in your world except for him and you feel paralyzed, unable to do anything but drink him in. You wonder if you are even worthy to stand beside him.

"____?" Seungcheol calls you, snapping his fingers in front of your eyes. He must have been calling you while you were eye fucking him. "Oh! Um, hi." You're flustered. "You- you look really, really nice." It isn't enough but it's what you can get past your lips. A knowing smirk kisses his lips before he teases, "Well, you look really, really nice too." Motioning you to his car he says, "Shall we? We'll be late for our reservation."

"Yeah, of course," you say, hurrying over to his car, embarasssed at your foolery. Seungcheol must have noticed you ogling him like that. But you don't really care when he looks like that. It is his fault for looking so devilishly handsome and idly you wonder if he did that on purpose. If he's deliberately teasing with, trying to make you the most miserable before letting you go with a slap of reality to your face. Pushing away those plagueing thoughts, you sit up straight and clear your throat as Seungcheol comes to sit beside you and brings the engine to life.

A decently long and quiet (except for the music from the radio) but not quite uncomfortable car ride later, Seungcheol stops in front of a really fancy and expensive looking restaurant just by the sea. You did not except him to take you to a high end restaurant, otherwise you would have put some more effort in your looks.

Feeling slightly out of place you quietly follow Seungcheol into the beautiful European styled building after he hands his keys to a valet. The interior is dripping with polished furnitures and extravagant chandeliers and marble floors as guests dressed elegantly have their dinner. As you look around the place in awe Seungcheol talks to the receptionist who then guides you towards a staircase that leads to a pair of large double doors decorated with gold which then, opens to a large balcony. In the middle of it sits a table with two chairs and an unceremonious gasp escapes your mouth as you realize this is where you will be having dinner.

The man from earlier takes his leave as Seungcheol helps you sit down before taking a seat for himself while you take in everything, overwhelmed with all your surroundings. Why did he put so much effort for a lousy and fake date?

"What do you think?" He asks with a smirk as he rests one of his elbows on the table.

"I'm overwhelmed," you reply quietly, honestly. He chuckles, "Well this place has really good food and a fantastic view so I thought it wouldn't bad for our last date."

Last date.

"It's really beautiful. I don't know why you did this but thank you, really," you murmur, eyes on the satin table cloth with intricate golden lining. Everything about this place is so pretty.

"Well, I decided it would be beneficial for me to extract words from you if you are wooed," his words have a teasing tone to it and his demeanor is completely different from last time, giving you a whiplash but you are not sure if he's fully joking. Before you can say that you are definitely wooed, a waiter appears to take your order and you leave the duty of ordering to Seungcheol since he seems to frequent this place. Prior to his leave, the waiter pours you Seungcheol's champagne of choice and then, you two are alone once more.

Reaching for the flute, you quickly gulp down the champagne to soothe your dry throat and to calm all your nerves.

Over dinner you talk about your uni and your parents back home and the farm they own. While Seungcheol mostly keeps quiet he doesn't ignore you but listens carefully, occasionally passing glances your way or commenting. He does not offer anything about him, which you expected and you don't ask any questions about him either. Instead you try your best to keep his interest in your words despite the lack of it from his side.

After a hearty meal of poached lobsters and wagyu beefs and creamy soups comes dessert; a chocolate orange mousse with spiced fruits and yogurt sorbet. You start eating your dessert in silence, the occasional crashing of waves filling the complete lack of sounds.

This location is truly magnificent and breathtaking, almost having a feel like you're in a fancy resort in a luxurious tropical island. It is undoubtedly the most beautiful place you have ever been, let alone have dinner at and you wonder if you would ever have the chance to visit some place like this had you not met Seungcheol. The man in question, continues eating quietly, seemingly lost in his thoughts. He looks lovely as always, if not more and you try to burn this image in your mind for you to look back at later. You want to ask him so many question, you want to tell him so many things but you're scared. Sacred if you do so this moment will break, scared it will annoy him and end your final date all too early. So you bite your tongue and finish your food as he does and after your plates are cleared away, you are served another expensive champagne as an end to your luxurious dinner.

Even though Seungcheol doesn't say anything, you assume it is time to spill the beans, to say what he has been wanting to hear from the beginning. You have teased him enough and it is time you give him what he deserves. Taking a deep breath, you open your mouth. "Me and Katelyn heard noises from the playground that night so we decided to check. It was pretty dark and we were tipsy but I recognized you and you were... beating someone up. We stayed there and watched until one of us accidentally made some noise. We were scared that you heard us so we ran. That's all that happened."

You have Seungcheol's full attention now as he listens cautiously, his sharp eyes trained on you. Gulping, you clench your hands together underneath the table, waiting for his reaction. There seems to be an eternity of silence as Seungcheol simply stares at you as if he's debating whether your words are true or not. It's torturous, awfully agonizing and when you can't bear it anymore you're about to speak but he beats you to it.

"I didn't kill him." His voice is quiet. You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Somewhere in the back of your mind you believed it, you believed he wouldn't be cruel enough to kill someone just like that and as soon as he speaks those words you believe him, without a doubt, without a second of delay.

"I believe you." You whisper, holding his gaze. "That asshole deserved what he got. He shouldn't even be alive but I let him go. He's in a hospital now, if you are wondering." You nod quietly. It's scary how much you believe him, how much you trust him even though he is pretty much a stranger.

There's a moment of silence as you bask in his presence before he speaks, "____, men like me, we aren't the nicest people. But we are needed, the cops need us around. People like me do the dirty works for people like you so y'all don't face troubles. We do things in an unconventional way but that's just who we are. We aren't as bad as the rumours say but we definitely aren't someone you should be with." You open your mouth to protest but his sharp gaze makes you stop. "If you have not understood it yet, let me say it out loud. I am trouble. People like me is always bad news. Whatever we did until now, I hope you forget. That's the best, ____ trust me. I think we both got what we wanted so let's call it a night." Just like that, he stands up, not waiting for your reply.

You gawk at him, baffled as he pays the bill and starts walking away. Tears burn the back of your eyes and you bite your lip to hold them back. The ending that you had expected has taken place but you are having a hard time accepting it. Your subconscious reminds you that you deliberately got yourself into this even though you saw this coming. So there is no one to blame for it but you. Grabbing your purse, you stomp your way out of the restaurant and towards Seungcheol's car.

Seungcheol barely acknowledges you as you both get in the car and he presses the key to the ignition. You are fuming in your seat, his words and the way he dismissed you cutting you deep. His words come to you, I think we both got what we wanted. You want to laugh. How can he possibly think that? Is he really so stupid or is he deliberately ignoring your interest in him? You want to smack his perfect face, curse and scream at him but all you can do is sit still with your arms crossed as steam comes out of your head. Is he really not curious about your feelings? Does he possess none for you? Does these few days with you mean nothing to him? You have so many unanswered questions. Leaning back into your seat, you close your eyes and let out a frustrated sigh.

It feels like in the blink of an eye the drive to your place is over as Seungcheol halts his car in front of your apartment. He does not utter a single word, doesn't even spare a glance at you while patiently waiting for you to get out of the car.

Asshole.

You inhale deeply, trying your best to gather yourself together as you take off your seatbelt and turn towards him.

"Seungcheol?" Few seconds pass before he looks at you. Words are stuck in your throat. When your eyes meet his, you become mute, overwhelmed with emotions as your words die in your tongue. He keeps staring at you, not opening his mouth but waiting for you to speak. "Is this goodbye?" Your voice breaks.

"I believe we don't have any reason to see each other. We both got what we wanted," He says without batting an eye. You're left bemused, one step away from landing a slap on his face. How dare he say that?

"Do you really believe that?" Your words come out as an accusation. "I wanted to go out with you because I thought I have feelings for you! And I do! And my feelings have only increased since I first saw you. I want to see you again, Seungcheol. You may have gotten what you wanted but I didn't." Your fades into a whisper as tears burn the back of your eyes.

Seungcheol stays quiet, staring ahead, his brows knitted as if he's annoyed. "I promised you three dates, ____. And I gave you that. It's over. Your feelings? You'll get over them. It's better to be in pain for a while that be with someone like me."

"You can't say that! I get to decide for myself!"

"____," he sighs, rubbing his temples. "I'm a bad man. You should leave while you still have a good image of me. You'll get hurt because of me and I've caused enough pain to enough people. Just...go. Just forget me." You stare at him as frustrated tears roll down your cheeks. He doesn't meet your gaze but turns his head the other way. You are angry, infuriated and heart broken all at a time. Clenching your fists you inhale a shaky breath before reaching for him.

Before you can chicken out, you tilt his face towards you and quickly press your lips against his. Seungcheol seems to be shocked as a small gasp leaves his mouth but you don't let him push you away. Instead one of your hands come to rest on his thigh as he other cups his face to keep his mouth against yours. You kiss him with all you have left, pouring in every bit of passion and love for him as your tongues intertwine. By the time you are both breathless, Seungcheol gently pushes you back and peers into your eyes. "That's all I can give you, ____." He says, his voice the softest you have heard. You are broken into a million pieces and as much as your heart wants to cling to him, you suddenly feel tired, deflated like a popped balloon. Your emotions have drained you out and left nothing and right now, breathing almost seems too painful for you. Taciturnly, you grab your purse and step out the convertible. You hear another door shut behind you but you don't look back as your heavy steps carry you to the entrance of your building. When you are about to enter your apartment, you accumulate all your strength and courage to spare one final glance at him.

Turning around you see Seungcheol standing by his car, hands in his pockets, simply watching you. Even though your eyes are locked on each other, you don't see any emotion in them. He looks like the same expressionless, mysterious man you saw the first day. The man you fell in love with. Taking in his gorgeous features one last time, you bite your lip and turn away, forcing yourself to walk inside your apartment building.

Your chapter with Seungcheol ends here.

Epilogue

A/N : Okay so idk why this fucking app is being like this but it says I reached the maximum of 250 blocks but I thought tum1r didn't have a word limit?? Anyway so I've decided to break it up and put the rest of the fic in another post. Please click epilogue to read that.

Taglist: @koo-18 @shiningstar-byulxx @pcisonedhaos @happyvitamin @yoongischeeksluv @haluim17 @nayam14 @horanghae-gumanhae @cottonsthings @hotcheetosnorter99 @peekabooseoksoon @acapellaanna @amixoferrthang

[jayeray-hq]

Deal With a Devil

Hey everyone! Welcome to my part of the new NSFW Anilysium Server Collab! The theme for it this time is Halloween! Please check out some of the other amazing writers and artists in the collab by following the link! I'm a little late this time sorry!!! 🙇🏻‍♀️😖😭

If you like my writing for Kuroo, check out my other stories in his character masterlist!

Summary: You get dragged into a demonic summoning ritual on Halloweeen and somehow end up in a Deal with a Devil.

10.9K+ Words

General Warnings: Swearing, NSFW 18+ minors dni!, Demon Summoning Ritual, mentions of past rape/non-con (but none in story), mentions of death/murder/selling your soul, relationship negotiations, mentions of demon babies

NSFW Warnings: Smut and a bit of fluff, monster fucking, demon!Kuroo, switch!reader and switch!Kuroo, slight somnophilia (Could maybe be classed dubcon but is actually enthusiastically consented to), brief/minor choking, degradation/praise, sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, dirty talk, biting, hair pulling, nipple play, overstimulation, strange dick, slight cock-warming, very mild blood play (vampire type stuff), breeding kink

“Why did I let you talk me into this again?” you asked your friend, keeping your voice low as you eyed your surroundings dubiously.

It was Halloween and still fairly early in the evening, the sun was just about to set, and both you and she were dressed to kill in costumes that made you feel utterly sexy. You’d been looking forward to a night out, to cutting loose and having fun, barhopping or maybe finding a nice club to dance the night away in. Unfortunately your friend had other plans.

She’d always been into the occult, absolutely one of those who believed in things like demons and ghosts without question. She was superstitious as hell, refusing to step on cracks in the sidewalk, zealously avoiding ladders, refusing to kill ladybugs, and practically barricading herself inside her room whenever Friday the 13th rolled around. The one time she’d accidentally broken a mirror she’d been near hysterical and had gone to get herself cleansed.

You weren’t nearly as wary as she was, and were far more skeptical of the supernatural, finding her a bit too needlessly dramatic over things you personally viewed as inconsequential and silly. Still she was a good friend outside of that, and it wasn’t hurting you or her to let her believe as she pleased so you let it go and simply indulged or ignored her little habits.

Which was how you somehow found yourself here, not scouting a nice bar or standing in line for a club, but in the middle of a forest clearing, your nice heels sinking into the dirt as you desperately tried not to roll an ankle.

“You said you were having a dry spell, right?” she sassed, though she kept the words quiet so as to not disturb the other women who were shuffling around the clearing, making preparations, drawing strange lines and symbols on the grass with a black tarry looking substance, “Well this is going to put an end to that!”

It was true you’d broken up with your boyfriend months ago, the two of you parting on amicable terms, the spark of your relationship having simply died out and while you’d had a few dates since, there hadn’t been any sort of chemistry with them, definitely nothing that made you want to bring them home with you even just for a one night stand. Thus you’d been making do with your good friend Mr. Rabbit but it was nowhere near as fulfilling as you knew a partner could be.

“And how is this supposed to do that exactly?” you asked her skeptically as you eyed the candles that were being placed around the circle, “Wouldn’t being at a club and finding a nice man to dance with be more productive?”

“Madame Carver says this ritual will increase your drives and fulfill your desires,” your friend told you excitedly, practically bouncing in place, “Apparently it will help with just about anything you want to do. I personally, am hoping it helps me with finishing my stupid Thesis at long last.”

You don’t get the chance to ask her just who this Madame Carver is as a woman approaches and passes both of you red candles before ushering you into a place around the circle they’ve created. You’re not sure how they’re arranging people, but you end up separated from your friend, standing between two strangers.

A quick glance around the circle shows that everyone present is female, and while some are clearly eager, some nervous, others, the ones you relate to most, look just as skeptical as you feel about this whole thing, which does make you feel better. Honestly, you feel more than a bit ridiculous, but for your friend’s sake you’ll stay and get whatever the hell this is over with so you can go out and actually enjoy yourself without her sulking about missing it. Personally you think heightened desires isn’t exactly what you’re looking for at the moment, you’re pent up enough as it is, but you doubt this silly thing is going to hurt anyone so you see no harm in going through with it.

You were so caught up in your thoughts you almost miss the entrance of a woman dressed all in red, the shade a bright crimson that reminds you of blood. She was a regal looking woman, not traditionally beautiful but striking nonetheless with dark riotous curls and strong features, bronze skin almost glowing in the little light left from the quickly setting sun.

As she stepped into the center of the circle you’d formed with the other women she took a glance around and you had to admire her dedication to her roll. Her eyes had been a shocking crimson color, one that matched her dress, and had what almost looked like a cat’s slut pupil. You wondered if after the ceremony or whatever she’d be offended if you asked where she got her colored contacts from, because they’d looked seriously impressive.

“Welcome, my sisters,” she greeted, her voice a warm, deep, mesmerizing contralto. Just listening to those three brief words you could see how she could con people into believing she was some kind of witch or mystic, she certainly sounded the part and you had no doubt that this was the Madam Carver your friend had mentioned.

“Before we begin our ceremony this Samhain night a final warning,” she told the group, spinning in a slow circle to make eye contact with everyone as if to impress the seriousness of her words, “While this ceremony is meant to ensure you’re granted your deepest of desires, never forget that for everything received there must be something given, a price paid in body, blood, or soul. Demons will always fulfill their end of the bargain, their very being demands it, however they are demons at the end of the day, they will never grant you something for nothing.”

Your friend had definitely not mentioned anything about paying any sort of price for this whacko ritual and if she’d been in your line of sight you would’ve been glaring at her. Fortunately for her and unfortunately for you she was somewhere off to your right and you couldn’t actually see her unless you stepped out of your place, something you weren’t quite willing to do just yet.

However, the minute someone asked you to cut yourself to donate blood, tried to sacrifice someone or started an orgy you were nope-ing the fuck out. Like hell were you going to participate in anything like that. The orgy might’ve been something you could be down for if there were men present, but you simply weren’t all that sexually attracted to women.

“If anyone wants to leave, now is the time to do so,” Madame Carver warned seriously, pulling you from your slightly panicked thoughts, “Once the pact is made there is no turning back.”

Several of the women around the circle shifted anxiously, but none of them actually made a move to go, the power of peer pressure and either fervent belief or blatant skepticism keeping everyone in place.

You tried to reassure yourself that your friend would never be involved in blood or human sacrifice of any kind, which was reassuring, though the reminder that she was apparently willing to deal with so called demons wasn’t exactly comforting. You didn’t particularly believe in them, but you knew she did, so either she was more desperate to finish her Thesis than you’d thought or she thought the ritual was harmless, either way it probably wouldn’t be too bad right?

“Very well, if everyone is ready, let’s begin,” Madame Carver announced solemnly after a few seconds when no one moved, “Don’t forget that during the ritual you must think of that which you desire most, hold it tightly in your mind lest you accidentally leave your contract open ended.”

With that final warning she stepped forward to the woman who was standing at what looked like some kind of nexus point in the circle, hand reaching out. You were sure how she hid the lighter but a small flame sprang forth and lit the candle the woman was holding in an impressive bit of sleight of hand. The woman lit the candle of the woman to her left, who did the same with the woman to her left, each woman continuing on as they passed the flame carefully around the circle.

You’d been a bit anxious about your turn afraid you’d embarrass yourself by dropping your candle or somehow setting something on fire, but you managed to accept the flame from the woman next to you, a pretty blonde with the brightest green eyes you’d ever seen, who also seemed to be wearing some kind of colored contact lenses that gave her a slit pupil, and passed the flame on to the woman next to you.

Once everyone was holding a lit candle Madam Carver went back to the center of the circle and began to chant. You had no idea what she was saying or what language it was, if it was any sort of language at all or just speaking tongues, but it sounded impressive at least. Skeptical though you were you couldn’t deny there was definitely something in the air, though you put that down to anticipation from the true believers among the women you couldn’t help but be a little drawn into it yourself.

As she chanted a strange sort of wind began to blow, a scent filling the clearing that was strangely alluring, spicy, and masculine, the kind of scent that would’ve caught your attention no matter the man wearing it, it was that tempting. The sound of faint whispers, interspersed with low grumbles, like the vibration of a man’s voice when you had your ear pressed to their chest swirled through the air around you, humming deep in your bones as Madame Carver continued to chant, her voice slowly but surely rising in volume, her body appearing to be under an almost physical strain as the scent grew stronger and the voices grew louder.

You didn’t even realized how utterly enraptured you were by it, drawn in by sight, smell and sound the faint wind almost like the caress of fingers against your skin. Something in the air made you feel hypnotized, almost hazy, everything feeling a bit not quite right, something flickering in and out of the corner of your vision as if daring you to turn your head to look, only it felt far too heavy to move.

It felt like there were eyes on you, looking, judging, inspecting, appraising your worthiness, and yet instead of feeling intimidated you instead felt oddly aroused your skin tingling with eager anticipation. A strange feeling, almost like hand caressed the back of your neck, not quite grasping it, but hovering close enough you could feel the heat of it on your skin.

The strange whispering had become more coherent almost forming words you could understand now as what felt like warm slow breaths puffed against your cheek, each one bringing a new wave of that dizzying scent that sent little sparks of arousal trembling down your limbs.

“Be mine, kitten,” a warm voice cooed in your ear, the sound sultry, low and tempting, the kind that had your thighs clamping together your panties dampening in want, a voice practically made for the bedroom, “Be mine, enter covenant with me, be mine.”

The voice kept whispering, coaxing, cajoling, as Madame Carver continued to chant, combined with the sweet scent, the warmth you could now feel traveling up your spine as if a strong body as bare millimeters from being plastered to your back, and that terrible, tempting voice that made all of you quake with need was too much. Even if you hadn’t been going through a dry spell you already knew your answer would’ve been the same.

“Yes,” you agreed, unsure whether you were saying the word aloud or just thinking it to yourself but hoping to convey acceptance, your want, your need, to whatever being was whispering away in your ear.

“Then, it’s a deal my pretty kitten,” the voice agreed with a pleased sounding chuckle, something that felt like lips pressed themselves to the space just behind your ear, sending a strange scorching heat through you, making you feel weak with desire.

Madame Carver’s voice was almost at a fever pitch, rising higher and higher before giving a final shout. It was like being dunked in a bucket of ice water, the word catching your attention, making your whole body stiffen, the warmth against your back disappearing so quickly it left you question whether it had ever been there at all, as suddenly every candle in the circle went out at the same time, leaving only the ones at the center of the circle surrounding Madame Carver still alight.

Goosebumps rippled across your skin as you tried to make head or tails of what had just happened. It felt as if you’d been deep below the surface of a lake or ocean and suddenly broke through taking a deep rasping breath that returned you to a dizzying sort of clarity as you tried desperately to catch your bearings.

“Congratulations,” Madame Carver’s voice was like a lifesaver an anchor that managed to help ground you back into reality. A distant part of you was surprised at how smooth it still sounded given she’d been chanting and shouting nearly nonstop for who knows how long, “Your deals are now set, and you are free to go about your evening as you will.”

“However,” she warned, “Don’t forget the deal you’ve struck, for they surely will not and to renege upon it would be disastrous. For your own sake be careful.”

You shivered slightly at her ominous words, not quite sure what to make of them. You’d gotten so caught up in that strange ritual, in the atmosphere, in everything that all your skepticism had disappeared. However, now that it had finished you found clarity returning, your logical mind slowly coming up with explanations for what had happened.

The voices? Cleverly hidden speakers, surround sound no doubt with a queued soundtrack. The scent? The candles obviously, if a woman wasn’t coming around to collect them you’d be tempted to take yours home, but in the end surrendered it graciously. The warmth at your back? The feeling of it all? Obviously your admittedly vivid imagination and your desperate need to get laid playing tricks on you.

“That was intense!” your friend told you as she practically bounded up to you, eyes a little wild and smile almost manic in its intensity.

“You could say that again,” you agreed wholeheartedly, gladly linking your arm with hers as the two of you made your way back to where you’d left your car, surrounded by the other women who all looked as swept away or dazed as you felt.

“I can’t wait to work on my Thesis, I’m going to be so inspired I’m sure of it,” your friend babbled eagerly as the two of you climbed in the car.

“I’m sure,” you assured her, indulgent, mostly because while you doubted the ritual actually worked the placebo effect wasn’t to be underestimated and even this was the most inspired you’d seen her to work on it in a long time.

The two of you both drove back into town as she babbled on, clearly energized and excited, high on the adrenaline of it all and ready to fulfill her goal. Personally you were more than ready to fulfill yours too, now more than ever you were determined to find someone tonight and finally get laid, especially since your libido was apparently causing you to hallucinate.

Except, unfortunately it didn’t seem to work out that way. Several men approached as you and your friend clubbed and bar hopped into the early hours of the morning, and while you’d had a good time dancing with a few, none of them really caught your interest, even if they were clearly more than interested in you.

The most action you’d gotten were a few sloppy kisses before deciding you weren’t into it and promptly bailing. Even stranger, all night you’d felt like there were eyes on you, as if someone was constantly watching. It shouldn’t have been so strange, you’d dressed to attract male eyes on purpose, you’d wanted people to look at you. However, there was something almost dangerous about his particular gaze, even though you couldn’t tell where it was coming from no matter how hard you looked.

It felt predatory in a way that sent shivers down your spine, though strangely not fearful ones. It almost felt like you were playing a game with someone, pleasurable and mutual and doubtless going to end in pleasure on both ends, especially since your gut insisted it was the same person every time.

Which should’ve been utterly ridiculous, especially as you’d kept very aware of your surroundings, not even touching the freely flowing alcohol since you were designated driver for the night. Not once did you see anyone following you when you migrated from bar to club to bar and back again, meeting up with mutual friends and just generally having a good time. It should’ve been impossible for someone to follow you all night long and yet…

In the end your friend had stayed with a group of mutual friends you knew and trusted and you went home feeling a combination of exhausted and wired, frustrated and yet strangely anticipatory as if something else was going to happen. That was completely and utterly ridiculous of course, as the only thing that could happen was finally getting out of your heels, washing your face, and stripping off your costume which stank of sweat and alcohol not surprising considering the night you’d had. You took a quick shower to wash the night off you, not bothering with more clothing than a pair of underwear before trundling over to your bed.

Unsure what exactly to do with yourself, feeling pent up and wired despite it being almost four in the morning you’d pulled out your laptop to watch some Netflix but only got ten minutes into the episode of the show you were watching before exhaustion hit like a freight train. You only just managed to put the laptop away before collapsing into your pillows.

You felt strange, oddly weightless, in a place between dreaming and waking. There was sensation, warm hands running slowly up and down your bare sides as warm lips traced a path down the center of your throat, your body arching into the sensation, pressing closer as a face nuzzled between your bare breasts.

There was a warm heavy weight between your legs pressing you into the mattress, and your hands came up automatically one hand tangling into thick silky hair and the other finding a strongly muscled back as a quiet moan left your lips.

To your displeasure the mouth lifted away from your body, and you slowly blinked your eyes open, a pout on your lips as you stared up at the shape hovering above you.

“Awake are you kitten?” his voice was a deep, rumbling purr, seductive and teasing sending shivers of arousal through you as you tried to focus your eyes even as your entire body felt heavy and languid.

The man above you was probably the most beautiful man you’d ever laid eyes on and a distant part of you quietly congratulated your imagination and your subconscious for dreaming him up for you. His eyes were glowing golden with a vertically slit pupil that vaguely reminded you of the contacts Madame Carver had been wearing at the ritual.

His hair was thick and dark, with bangs that were swept to the side nearly covering one of his eyes and the rest of it stuck out at odd angles despite how soft it felt against your fingers. There was a devious looking smirk curling his lips that revealed canines that looked slightly too sharp, set beneath a thin bladed nose and high cheekbones.

However, what really drew your eyes were the two black horns growing from his scalp just behind his hair line, and the strange glittering patches of color on his skin that looked almost like scales, trailing over his cheekbones, down the sides of his face and down his neck. It was utterly inhuman, and curiously you untangled your fingers from his hair, tracing them down the side of his face towards his neck feeling the odd ridges beneath your fingers.

Despite the strangeness of it, you found yourself unbothered, as even with the strange looking adornments that clearly marked him as something not human he was still one of the most attractive men you’d ever laid eyes on. Looking at him you didn’t think you’d ever wanted anyone more in your life.

You figured your subconscious was still focused on Halloween and the strange ritual you’d agreed to participate in earlier, after all why else would he have the same voice as the one you’d heard before? Still you weren’t about to protest.

A content hum slipped past your lips as you curled your hand around the back of his neck and tugged him forward. His eyebrows lifted in surprise, but he came along willingly enough, his lips meeting your own in a kiss that left you utterly breathless. The hand that had lingered at his back traced up his spine, relishing the strange feel of scales beneath your palm as you tasted him.

He was a fantastic kisser, teasing your mouth open with kitten licks and sharp little nips, his clever tongue tangling with your own, the heat of it making you moan into his mouth, which had his lips curling up beneath yours in clear amusement and masculine satisfaction.

You shifted your hips slightly, thighs spreading wider to accommodate his weight between them aware of the needy ache in your core, and the wetness that pooled in your panties with every movement of his mouth against yours.

Tracing your hand further down his spine you were surprised to feel something strange beneath your fingers, jutting out from his tailbone. Distracted for a brief moment from his kiss you realized that he had a tail of all things, and as your fingers probed curiously around the base he let out a low, pleased groan into your mouth, his hips grinding into yours, letting you feel a very prominent bulge that felt like nothing you’d ever had between your legs before.

“Careful now kitten,” he urged, his voice practically a growl in your ear, “I’m going nice and easy on you now, since you’re being so nice and compliant, but if you tease me like that I might have to get rough.”

“Mm and what if I like that?” you teased, utterly breathless but still able to find your tongue.

He jolted, clearly a bit surprised as he pulled away so he could peer into your eyes, before a slow smirk spread across his face, clear delight in his glowing eyes as he crooned at you, “Oh kitten, you and I are going to have such fun together. I knew there was a reason I was so drawn to you.”

“You think so do you?” you challenged, something about him making you feel wild, daring and somehow utterly sexy, no doubt the sheer desire clear on his face, “Why don’t you show me then pretty boy?”

He let out a wild cackle of laughter, the sound at complete odds with his dangerous appearance, and sexy demeanor in a way that was surprisingly endearing for something you were almost sure was a demon, amusement and enthralled wonder on his face as he informed you, “I’m no boy, kitten and I’m going to spend the rest of the day proving it to you if you keep taunting me like that.”

“Do it,” you agreed, with the complete and utter confidence that only those who are fully aware they’re dreaming and therefore invincible could have, “Give me everything you’ve got demon.”

“Oh kitten, let’s pray you don’t regret that,” he cooed, eyes alight with triumph and blazing desire, before leaning down to recapture your lips with his.

If your previous kisses had been steamy if languid this was on a whole other level. It felt as if he was trying to consume you, every brush of his lips and flick of his tongue shooting sparks of desire down your spine where they pooled in your belly as he began to trace a warm wet path down the side of your neck with open mouthed kisses until he found a sweet spot at the junction of your shoulder that had you moaning, and arching into his steady hold, kept in place by the firm hand that was cupping your jaw and part of your throat.

You hissed at the sharp nip of his teeth at the tender skin, almost but not quite enough to break it, the little zing of pain heightening your pleasure as he laved and soothed the area with his tongue before slowly moving downwards.

One of his large hands found your bare breast, cupping and gently massaging the pliant flesh, rolling your pebbled nipple between skilled fingers, and gently tweaking the sensitive little bud in a way that had you writhing, little gasps and sighs leaving your mouth as he worked diligently to leave several marks on the sensitive skin of your upper chest and collarbones.

“Like that do you kitten?” he crooned at you, his words a dark promise against your skin, “Your body is so responsive to me, so sensitive.”

You gasped as his hot wet mouth closed around the other nipple, sucking lightly at it, and flicking it with his tongue. Your hips were desperately seeking friction, grinding up against him as your legs wrapped around his waist, hoping to bring him closer to your aching center.

He let out a rasping chuckle against your skin, but let you pull him close, and you were suddenly reminded that he wasn’t quite the same down there as normal human men. You couldn’t see him, not pinned and prone as you were, but you could certainly feel him, the alien ridges that reminded you of some of the more exotic dildos you’d seen that claimed to be ‘ribbed for her pleasure’ clear even through the fabric of your panties.

“Fuck,” you swore, in both surprise and pleasure and he slowly ground himself against you, letting you feel every ridge and bump against the soaked cloth and proving that he wasn’t just shaped differently he was also considerably gifted. You weren’t sure what exactly he was packing, but the thought of taking it inside you made you feel as if you were dripping, sheer want making you feel more than a bit dizzy.

“Like that do you kitten?” he purred at you, “Like the feel of demon cock?”

“Fuck I want you so bad,” you admitted grinding your hips into his again, wishing you’d been even lazier and not bothered with the panties after your shower either and just slept fully nude so you wouldn’t have to deal with the cloth barrier and could feel him against your slick folds.

“Mm, so damn responsive,” he purred approvingly, “Such a good girl for me kitten.”

“Nngh… feels so good,” you told him, something between a moan and a gasp leaving your lips as his warm hands swept downwards, finding your hips as he sank his teeth into the top of your right breast, no doubt leaving a bruise that would be livid my tomorrow.

You whined unhappily as he pulled away from you, moving so that he was sat back on his heels, and you might’ve verbally protested, if not for the utterly fantastic view his positioning afforded you.

His body was just as desirable as his face, with broad shoulders covered in those same shimmering red scales, that crawled over the sides of his well-muscled chest before following the V of his hips, everything below that line nothing but scales instead of skin even if you could see the strong muscle underneath them. A long thin tail was lashing about behind him, reminding you a bit of a cat about to pounce, covered in bright red scales that faded into a black forked tip, it’s movement caught your attention though not for long as your eyes were drawn downwards to what you’d really wanted to see.

His cock was jutting up proudly between his hips, a darker maroon at the base, but flushed bright red at the weeping tip. The mushroomed head was the same as any normal human males, but the shaft was composed of layered ridges with two sets of bumps running along the underside that reminded you of a Jacob’s ladder piercing and that you knew would rub deliciously inside of you.

You could practically feel your mouth watering, desire making you dizzy with want as he watched you, that same sinful smirk on his lips, masculine pride written all over his face as he teased, “Like what you see kitten?”

“Mm like a walking wet dream,” you affirmed, utterly shameless even as a distant part of you began to wonder if this wasn’t actually a dream after all.

He let out another surprised cackle of laughter, his whole face lighting up in a way that was almost boyish despite his clearly demonic appearance before assuring you, “Don’t worry kitten, I’m better than any dream could hope to be.”

He made good on his words a second later as he slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, drawing them down your legs as you noted with some surprise that his nails were pitch black and surprisingly sharp looking, the backs of his veiny hands completely covered in scales, though the insides, fingertips and palms were human skin.

You’d always liked hands and his were surprisingly fascinating, an alien contrast against your own clearly human skin, and the feel of them as they caressed your thighs, nails dragging teasingly over the soft flesh sending a shiver of want down your spine.

A surprised yip left your mouth as he took hold of your hips and lifted, forcing your shoulders and head into the mattress as your back arched in surprise. It seemed utterly effortless as he hooked your knees over his broad shoulders, leaving his face planted squarely between the junction of your thighs, his hands digging into the flesh of your ass.

“You’re so wet for me already,” he cooed, staring shamelessly at the open flower between your legs as he breathed in, clearly taking in your scent, “Fuck, you’re already dripping wet kitten, and here I was thinking I might actually have to work to prep you to take me.”

You flushed a bit, but the blatant appreciation in his eyes and voice kept any embarrassment at bay as he leaned in to feast between your legs. His tongue was hot against your slick folds, the heat of it actually a bit shocking as he swiped it teasingly over your sensitive clit, making you jerk and whimper in his hold.

“That’s right kitten,” he encouraged, golden eyes never leaving yours as he laved his tongue against your folds, gathering up your wetness and adding his own slick saliva to the mess between your legs, the slurping sounds he made between words utterly obscene as he commanded, “Mewl for me.”

You were helpless to do anything but what he’d asked, his skilled mouth making an utter mess of you as he sucked and laved at your folds, swirling his tongue teasingly around your clit before thrusting it as deep as it could reach inside your hole, which you knew on instinct was much further than a normal human tongue should allow. His firm grip on your ass kept your locked in place even as you writhed unsure whether to press closer to him or pull away as he danced on the edge of perfect sensation and just over the edge of too much.

You were practically putty in his hands and that was before he laid the slick appendage that you weren’t even sure could be properly called a tongue across your clit and hissed, the sound making the thing vibrate against the sensitive swollen nub making you practically levitate off the bed, a mewling cry escaping your lips as you came harder than you’d done in your entire life.

He barely gave you any time to recover, just enough to shift your weight so he was holding the small of your back with one hand to free up the other, and bite off three of his nails in quick succession before slicking one up and plunging it into your still quivering core.

It was a testament to his inhuman strength that he managed to keep you from jerking away, the pebbled rasp from the scales on the back of his finger, combined with the unerring crook of his finger right into the soft spot at the front of your walls that had you seeing stars enough to make you arch and writhe.

It was too much at sensation too soon after such an intense orgasm, the pleasure bordering on painful as he snuck another finger in, you could barely comprehend what he was saying past your own mindless pleasure as he cooed praise about how wet and tight you were.

With the addition of a third finger, stretching you open wide came another orgasm, not quite as powerful as the first, but perhaps even more pleasurable bordering on painful as you practically sobbed at the feel of it.

Luckily it seemed the demon was willing to have some mercy, because all he did was watch as you came down from your high, thighs quivering next to his ears, though the site of him as he slowly licked his fingers clean of your juices, eyes never once leaving yours was enough to keep your desire and your attention at a high.

You’d never in your life felt this needy, and two orgasms that had been that good felt like they should’ve been more than enough, and yet you found yourself wanting more, a part of you firmly resolved that whatever this was, dream, vision, or reality you weren’t going to let it end until you got to feel him move inside you.

“You taste so sweet kitten,” your demon lover praised a wicked grin on his lips as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you and was savoring every single second of it, “And you look so good like this, spread and helpless for me, but we’re nowhere near done yet. You told me to give you everything I had after all, which means we’ve barely gotten started.”

“Give it to me,” you intended it to come out more like a command, but the breathless exhilaration in your voice made it sound more like a plea instead, “I want you.”

“So eager for demon cock, kitten,” he tutted, though from the way his eyes were burning into you, you knew he was loving every second, as he carefully lowered your still weak legs from his shoulders and gently tugging you so your hips were closer to his, palming his cock and dragging the blunt head through your soaked folds as he taunted, “This what you want pretty kitten? You want this cock inside you?”

“Fuck yes,” you breathed, desperate to know what he’d feel like as he moved inside you, “I want it. I want you.”

The hungry look in his eyes sent shivers down your spine, your own need flaring up with just that look as he began to ease himself inside you. Even with how soaked you were and how he’d prepped you beforehand it was still a stretch as he slid inside inch by slow inch.

You let out a shuddering gasp as he bottomed out inside you, the blunt head of his cock kissing your cervix in a way that made you shudder at the strange sensation of pain/pleasure deep inside you.

“Fuck, look at you kitten, taking me so well,” he praised, his voice low and guttural as he eyed the place where you were joined with something almost like awe on his face, “So tight and wet for me, like your pussy was made to take demon cock.”

Your walls clenched automatically at the words, something about them sending a deep sense of pleasure through you and he let out a low almost pained groan in response, as he slowly shifted, giving one careful, shallow thrust that pulled a pleasured mewl from your lips.

“So fucking tight,” he gasped, as his hips slowly thrust in and out of you the ribbed sensation of his cock enough to make you dizzy with pleasure, the sensation of it almost too much especially with the feel of those Jacob’s Ladder bumps rubbing up against your walls. A part of you wondered what it might feel like if you were up on your hands and knees so those bumps could rub up against your g-spot but you were quickly distracted from it as he reached for you, one hand holding your hips in place and the other pressing into your belly below your belly button, his thumb dipping between your outer lips to flick teasingly across your clit.

“Pay attention, kitten,” he ordered, eyes locked on yours and his tail swishing behind him, “Or I’ll be forced to make you.”

A part of you wanted to challenge him on it, but you couldn’t muster up the energy, not when every stroke of his cock had you seeing stars, your hands twisting into the sheets in order to find something to ground yourself with.

“That’s right kitten,” he growled at you as his hips slowly began to pick up the pace, “Focus on me, and only on me, on my dick in your perfect little pussy, your sweet little pussy that I’m going to fill up and taint with demon seed. Better learn to love the sensation pretty kitten because I’m going to fuck you over and over and over until you overflow with my cum. I’m going to completely ruin you, turn you into a slut for this demon cock.”

You’d been right. His voice was utterly perfect for the bedroom, hypnotic, enticing and enough to make you spasm around him with every word, doing something to you that you didn’t completely understand but enjoyed every moment of.

Overwhelming pleasure was building in your gut, higher and higher with each thrust of his hips, and before you’d really had any time to really process it you were falling apart, your orgasm making your inner walls ripple and squeeze around his cock letting you feel every bump and ridge of it.

A choked moan left his lips as he continued to drive into you, pace frantic, clearly chasing his own end and prolonging your orgasm as each twitch of his hips made your walls flutter. His hands dug into your thighs holding you steady, not letting you move an inch that he didn’t allow his grip tight enough you were sure you were going to have nice hand shaped bruises.

You felt it deep inside you as he sheathed himself to the hilt, the blunt head of his cock right up against your cervix. Your whole body spasmed as you felt hot jets of cum right up against the entrance to your womb, the sensation wringing a final small but intense orgasm from your limp body as you watched him, his beautiful face twisted in ecstasy, a low deep, rumbling growl of a moan leaving his lips as he finished.

For several long seconds, neither of you moved the only sound in the room that of your harsh breathing, before his eyes slowly found yours. Feeling lazy and utterly sated you held out your hand toward him, limply gesturing for him to come forward.

The bemused expression on his face told you the gesture was entirely unexpected, but he came anyway, laying his weight on you in a way you felt inexplicably comforting, his elbows braced on either side of your head.

You hummed in utter contentment your hands coming up to tangle in his hair, the other stroking along his spine again in the same position you’d been in when you’d first woken in earlier. Your lips found his in an easy, lazy sensual kiss as you gently scratched your nails over his scalp.

He returned your kiss easily, lips turning upwards in clear pleasure as the two of you spent a pleasant couple minutes simply basking in the other’s presence. When you pulled back he carefully rolled the two of you to the side, the sensation sending a ripple of pleasure through you as you were still connected to him, his cock still hard and buried deep inside you.

Your hand found his face, utterly fascinated by the feel of his scales beneath your fingers. He let you touch him, an amused smile on his face that only dipped slightly when you reached into his hair to run along one of his horns, though judging from the way his cock twitched inside you and the lustful half-lidded look he was giving you, it was because the protrusions were sensitive rather than out of any sort of displeasure.

“So, I’m not dreaming am I,” you stated idly as you ran your hand over his scaled side, “That whole demon summoning ritual or whatever that I let my friend talk me into, it was real after all huh?”

“That’s right,” he agreed slowly, his face slowly settling into an oddly blank expression, “Did you think it wasn’t?”

“I’ve never been a big believer in the occult or the supernatural,” you confessed easily, “But it’s hard to argue with the truth when it’s right in front of your face, and even my most vivid dreams aren’t as real as you are.”

“Does it bother you?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbow so that he was peering down at you, “You’re taking this awfully well for a human who didn’t believe, usually there’s a lot more screaming, or crying, or denial.”

“Mm, well it helps when the demon in your bed looks as tempting as you do, so what are you exactly, some kind of incubus?” you asked, still idly tracing your fingers over his scales, drawing unthinking patterns on his strange almost too warm skin.

“Something like that,” he agreed with a slight smirk.

“So what happens now?” you asked him curiously, “Madame Carver said something about payment?”

“That depends on what exactly it is you want kitten,” he teased, clearly recovered from whatever he was thinking earlier, “Normally with humans like you we have to ask for blood price because that’s what they’re willing to offer, but you paid in body just fine. We only take souls for really big requests though that’s fallen somewhat out of favor these days.”

“So that’s what she meant by body?” you asked incredulously, “Sex? That’s it?”

“That’s it,” he agreed amused, “Though you’d be surprised how very few people want sex with a demon.”

“Why not?” you questioned utterly baffled, “That was the most orgasms I’ve had in a single session ever in my life, and was a hell of a lot better than the ritualistic sacrifice I thought she meant.”

The demon gave a surprised cackle of laughter, shooting you a slow prideful grin that was all masculine satisfaction as he told you, “While I wouldn’t necessarily say no to a sacrifice of some kind, sex will do just fine for whatever you’re asking for kitten, unless it’s something really big, like bringing someone back from the dead or making someone fall in love with you, or making you the richest woman in the world kind of thing. Then we might have to renegotiate a bit.”

“But I already got what I wanted,” you told him with a puzzled frown.

“You did?” he asked you, looking nonplussed, “What exactly were you thinking you were going to ask for?”

“Really good sex,” you told him bluntly, earning a snort of laughter from the demon.

“No, but really,” he urged, “You left your contract very open ended, you didn’t ask for anything, which means now that you’ve begun payment we need to negotiate.”

“I did?” you asked, puzzled, but then you thought back to Madame Carver’s words, how she’d told you to keep your desire at the forefront of your mind for the ritual, but you’d been too distracted by your skepticism at first and then your enthrallment with the sensual being now lying beside you to really think of what you’d originally wanted, or what your friend had brought you there to ask for.

“Huh,” you acknowledged aloud, “So how exactly do these negotiations work?”

“It’s pretty simple kitten,” he told you, clearly amused, “You name what you want, I name my price. You can attempt to change my mind, but let me assure you we demon’s don’t like to bargain and we always get the best end of the deal.”

“But I told you I already got what I wanted,” you informed him, tilting your head to the side and studying his face, turning an idea over in your head for a moment before nodding decisively and adding on, “But I wouldn’t say no to a regular booty call if you’re up for it.”

“You’re joking,” he countered skeptically, a slight frown on his face, “You, a human, want to have sex regularly with me, a demon?”

“Thought you were the one who said you were going to turn me into a slut for demon cock huh?” you teased, reaching out to tug lightly at the hair covering his eye and running your fingers through the soft strands, “Didn’t you hear me when I said you were the best I’ve ever had? I wasn’t kidding.”

“You can’t just take my payment and turn it into what you want, that’s not the way this works,” he informed you, looking surprisingly sulky for a creature who was purportedly from hell.

“But you’re what I want,” you told him puzzled, “You’re fascinating, and sexy and physically we have great chemistry so why not?”

“Because even though we demons always get the better end of the deal, even we’re not allowed to accept everything for nothing,” he informed you, studying you as if you were the strangest creature he’d ever met.

Maybe you were being too casual about this whole thing, but you’d always been the laidback roll with the punches type and frankly this deal with him sounded just about perfect to you. You’d get sex when you wanted it without having to spend all that time dating and trying to find some kind of connection, one that you already somewhat felt for this strange demon male, more than you’d felt with any human, including your ex despite only knowing him for a few hours at most. There was just something there, something you couldn’t quite put your finger one, but he’d claimed earlier that he’d been drawn to you, and you couldn’t deny you were drawn to him to. You wanted to keep seeing him, you just needed to figure out how.

“Your name,” you decided at last, “I want to know your name, so I can stop calling you sexy demon man in my head.”

“You don’t know what you ask for,” he warned her seriously, his hand sliding up from where it had been resting on your hip to cup your face.

“I thought the names had power thing was a Fae myth not a demon one,” you told him thoughtfully.

“Humans have called us many strange things over the years,” he told you with a casual shrug as if he hadn’t accidentally tilted your whole world view sideways.

“And what other myths are true?” you asked, more thinking aloud rather than actually asking, “Can you lie? What about iron? Holy water? Salt?”

“We can’t lie,” he admitted, “We can imply, dance around and omit, but it’s impossible for a demon to lie or to break the boundaries of a contract once set. The rest is just wishful human thinking and religious myth, made up by the corrupt priests of the middle ages in order to steal more from the uneducated human masses.”

“And saying thank you to a demon?” you prompted, utterly fascinated.

“Is probably one of the greatest pranks demons have ever played on humankind, but don’t tell anyone it isn’t true,” he told you freely, a little too freely as you realized that while his words implied one thing it could potentially mean something else entirely.

“I will promise not to tell anyone, if you tell me flat out yes or no, is it true you can’t thank a demon without proclaiming a debt between the two of you?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Ho? What a clever little human you are,” he praised, something almost predatory in his gaze that sent pleasant tingles down your spine. You probably should’ve been afraid considering what he was, but all you really felt was intrigue and the slightest bit of arousal.

“Deal,” he agreed with a toothy smile, the word seeming to settle over your skin in a way that felt a bit like a net, sinking into your core in a way that you knew instinctively would cause you excruciating pain if you attempted to renege on your deal.

“I promise I won’t tell anyone that demons are pranking humans by spreading potentially false rumors about their abilities,” you promised immediately, and felt that strange net fade away almost instantaneously.

“No, it doesn’t create a debt,” he assured you, “And because I’m so kind I’ll even tell you that thanking a demon does nothing it wouldn’t do if you thanked a human.”

“Then since you’re so generous I also promise I won’t tell people that the Fae are pranking humans by spreading potentially false rumors about their abilities,” you countered, unable to help the slightly smug tilt to your lips, not that you’d actually been intending to exploit that particular loophole, though you found it amusing that he’d let you leave one nonetheless.”

“Oya, oya, my cunning little kitten,” he half scolded, half praised you, tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he eyed you hungrily, “Careful now, keep being so intriguing and I might just try to trap you by my side for eternity.”

“A thought for later,” you told him absently, the words coming without you giving any real thought to them, “What do you mean when you say names have power?”

“If a demon gives their name to a human it will allow the human to call upon them at any time, to ask for almost anything within the demon’s power, and to command them to some extent,” he told you honestly, looking a bit nonplussed.

“Then, how about you give me your name, and I’ll promise you can refuse if I call, and say no to any command I give though I would like you to promise to at least consider any request I make,” you proposed idly.

“And what exactly do I get out of this deal of yours?” he asked, raising a brow at you in clear amusement, though you thought you could also detect some interest in his tone.

“Hmm, what happens if a human gives a demon their full name?” you asked curiously, well aware that it was something the stories cautioned against doing.

“Then, little kitten you would have no choice but to do anything I say,” he purred at you, a clear taunt in his voice, making it obvious he was sure you’d back away from it.

“Could be interesting,” you told him, your walls clenching, reminding you or the still hard cock buried between your thighs, judging by the shocked hiss and the sudden heat of his gaze he clearly knew exactly where your thoughts had gone, “Never outside when we’re having sex, and only if I give you the go ahead for it. No piss, scat or mutilation, nothing that would cause me permanent harm and a safe word if I need it.”

“That sounds entirely too restrictive,” he told you casually, though you could tell he was actually interested, very interested if the sudden agitation of his tail was any indication.

“I could be talked into blood if you’re good to me,” you teased lightly, reaching for his face and running your finger over his lower lip. He parted them for you obligingly and you deliberately swiped the pad hard over the too sharp canine, teasing your now bloody finger over his lips like a strange lipstick as he watched you with heavy lidded calculating eyes, “Something tells me Demons might’ve been called vampires here and there given how hard you bit me earlier, tell me demon do you want to suck my blood?”

You gasped slightly as his hand lashed out, snagging your wrist, and tugging it forward, drawing your bleeding finger to his mouth again as his tongue flicked out, cleaning the blood off his lips before sucking the tip of your finger into his mouth. The wet, hot, tight sensation and the slight pull of blood as it left the cut in your finger was intoxicating, and you could feel yourself starting to become wet again, juices oozing out around his cock, your core fluttering on the thick appendage as a dazed part of you wondered what it would feel like to have him do that as he fucked you, something you didn’t doubt would appeal to him given the way he was twitching inside you.

The sight of him as he sucked was utterly mesmerized, his eyes locked on yours as his mouth worked along the appendage, his tongue flicking over it, soothing the small cut, the look on his face one of pure ecstasy before he released your finger with an almost obscene pop though he didn’t release your hand, instead pressing his mouth to your open palm and then to your wrist, scraping those sharp teeth teasingly along the sensitive flesh there, his eyes searching your face for something.

You weren’t sure if he found it or not as he pulled away, though not before leaving one more, almost tender kiss on your fingertip, which was surprisingly fully healed, not even a scab to show you’d cut it before.

“You really are too tempting kitten,” he told you, voice rough with desire, “If I didn’t know how fully human you are I’d think you were a succubae.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you assured him with an amused smile, “Though now I’m curious, succubae exist? Earlier you said you were something like an incubus does that mean Merlin existed and really was a cambion?”

“Ah, succubae is just another name for female demon, though they tend to be more on the magical and ritualistic side of things than us male demons,” Kuroo told you with an amused quirk of his lips, “But of course they exist you met one not all that long ago after all a couple of them even.”

You blinked at him startled, your mind running through possibilities before your mouth dropped open as you remembered the colored contacts or what you’d thought were colored contacts and slight of hand at the ritual earlier, “That woman next to me! And Madame Carver?”

“That’s right,” he affirmed, lips curling in a smirk, seemingly uncaring that he’d managed to tilt your world sideways again as he continued, “And as for Merlin, a fine example of a demon, but no, Cambion’s don’t exist.”

“So you can’t breed with humans?” you probed, interested.

“Oh we can, it’s actually our fellow demons we can’t breed with, but all beings born from demon seed or womb are full demon, there are no halves,” he told you amused.

“Do I have something to worry about then?” you asked, trying not to panic, you might want children someday, but not at the moment and you’d have no idea what to do with a demon child anyway.

“Relax kitten,” he assured you, cupping the back of your neck in one of his large hands and running his thumb soothingly over your jaw, “Demon children aren’t conceived unless they’re negotiated for beforehand.”

If you hadn’t been paying close attention you might’ve missed the hint of wistfulness in his voice, but fortunately for you and perhaps unfortunately for him you couldn’t help but pay him the utmost attention at all times.

You took a moment to think it over, giving yourself time to roll it over in your mind, knowing once the words were out you couldn’t exactly unsay them once they were out in the ether. However, the more you thought about it, the more it appealed, you’d always had a bit of a breeding kink and you didn’t think he’d say no, though you’d have to learn more about what it would mean first it wasn’t something you were automatically opposed to.

“Does that mean that, that’s on the table?” you asked him, trying to keep your voice casual even as your heart threatened to beat out of your chest. This more than anything would tell you how your relationship might pan out in the future, especially with how inexplicably fond you found yourself of the demon in your bed.

Are you…?” he trailed off eyebrows raised as he swallowed hard, clearly trying to find his voice before he demanded, “Are you seriously offering to let me breed you kitten, to put my baby inside you?”

You could feel his cock twitching inside you, his hips involuntarily giving slight thrusts that made you temporarily lose focus, the sensation heady, your libido thoroughly recovered after your earlier romp and apparently more than ready to go again. However, you forced yourself to focus back on the present and keep your head in the game. This negotiation was far more important than temporary satisfaction after all.

“There’s something viscerally appealing about letting you fuck your baby into me,” you admitted honestly, though you cautioned, “I’d need to learn more first, and I’d want to know you better, but so long as it’s not significantly more dangerous to my health than carrying a human baby I have no objections if you want to try in a year or two.”

“Fuck, kitten,” he moaned, his hips inadvertently giving a strong thrust and making you shudder and gasp in his hold, “Are you trying to drive me to the brink of insanity? What kind of male would I be if I said no to an offer like that?”

Does that mean you accept my terms?” you asked, taking him by surprise as you pushed at his shoulder, forcing him to roll onto his back. You rolled with him to keep him from slipping out of you, and found yourself straddling his hips your hands on his chest.

“Lay them out for me then, kitten,” he ordered seriously, pulling you out of your newfound bliss at the way he felt in this new position. You nodded, took a deep breath to center yourself and began to state your terms.

“You will give me your full name, and when I call you’ll answer unless you can’t or have no desire to see me, when I give commands you don’t have to obey if you don’t want to, but you will give all my requests thought and fair consideration,” you listed out carefully, making sure to keep your wording as firm as possible leaving as few loopholes as you could.

“In return I’ll give you my full name, with the caveat that you aren’t allowed to use it outside of times where I give you explicit, verbal permission to use it to command me. You will not share my full name with anyone or even speak it aloud outside my presence and I will not share yours or speak it unless I’m with you or calling for you,” you continued.

“I will also give you my blood and my body with the caveat that if I say stop you will, and only with permission to take it granted beforehand, and will attempt to be generous about it so long as my physical, emotional and mental health allow,” you listed off.

“My home is open to you at any time for any reason, so long as you behave with courtesy, paying for or replacing anything you use without my explicit permission within reason,” it wasn’t something you’d mentioned to him before, and you’d clearly caught him a bit off guard with it, judging by the raising of his eyebrows, but you did want him to feel welcome.

“In a year’s time on All Hallows Eve next year, so long as we are still on good terms and both agree I will negotiate having a child with you, so long as I am thoroughly educated in demon pregnancy beforehand, and it doesn’t pose extraordinary risk to my wellbeing,” you told him, trying hard not to think about it too much lest you become unfocused by your lust and let something slip.

“This contract can between us can be terminated or renegotiated at any time by my will or by yours,” you finished up with a firm nod, “Do we have a deal?”

“We have a deal, my precious, clever, kitten,” he assured you, his eyes glittering with triumph and something you thought might actually be affection.

This time when you felt the weight of your deal it was far heavier. It was if the first net had been composed of thread and this one of tight steel cable. It might’ve been uncomfortable except unlike with the other deal, this one was accompanied by a feeling of warmth unlike anything you’d ever experienced before, zinging through you like electricity and making you feel oddly powerful and alive, a bit like you’d felt after the ritual Madame Carver had completed earlier that had brought the sexy demon laying beneath you to you in the first place.

Hoping to lessen some of the weight you turned to him, leaning down to press a warm kiss to his willing mouth before quietly giving him your full name. As you’d suspected a large amount of the weight lifted leaving behind only the humming buzz or warmth under your skin.

“My name Kuroo, Kuroo Tetsurou, kitten at your service,” he told you with a slow enticing smile, one that was just teasing enough that you wanted to see if you could lean down and kiss it away, make him lose some of that smug arrogance he seemed to wear like a cloak.

“Tetsurou,” you repeated, rolling it around in your mouth, tasting the word on your tongue as you purred it back at him, something he evidently enjoyed if the way his cock twitched inside you meant anything, “It’s nice to officially meet you, Tetsurou.”

You leaned down, one hand pressed over where a human heart would be and the other sliding into his hair and grasping one of his horns your thumb rubbing against the base for a moment before stroking it between your fingers like you would a cock, something he evidently enjoyed if the way he shuddered under you was any indication, his eyes dark with lust even as he stared a bit wide-eyed, clearly taken aback by your daring.

“Now tell me Tetsurou do you have any plans for the rest of the day?” you asked even as you continued to run your thumb teasingly over the base of his horn, “Because you see someone promised to make me a slut for his demon cock and that he’d prove to me just how much of a man he is, but he has yet to fulfill that particular promise.”

He let out a low moan of pleasure as his hands found your hips and you deliberately tightened your walls around him, milking his cock, still hard and clearly ready inside you. After all he was here and with the contract out of the way you were more than ready to start round two, you doubted it could be better than round one, but you were more than willing to try.

“Oh kitten,” he purred at you, voice low and dangerous even as delight swam in his unnatural glowing red eyes, “You and I are going to have such fun together.”

You let out a pleasured gasp as he used his firm grip to lift you up before slamming you back down on his cock as if you weighed nothing, like you were a doll to be made for his pleasure alone.

“I look forward to it,” you teased breathlessly, though you meant every word, after all unconventional though it may be and despite what the stories might say you didn’t think you’d ever regret making a deal with a devil, especially one as sinfully seductive as Kuroo Tetsurou.

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[nightcolorz]

Hyper-analyzing Abner Krill as a rebuttal to James Gunn’s hella confusing Polka Dot Man take (spoilers)

For reference, this is the tweet I‘ll be referring to:

Like most of The Suicide Squad fans (from what I’ve seen), I didn’t get the impression that Abner was an attention seeker AT ALL throughout the film, the opposite really. He’s probably the most reserved member of the squad, most of the scenes he appears in have him awkwardly standing in the background of a shot, rarely (if ever) joining in on the other’s banter. When he does speak it often stunts the flow of the conversation, leaving whoever was involved standing around in a baffled silence. Abner is incredibly socially awkward, I think we can all agree on that. He doesn’t understand what is and what isn’t socially acceptable, most likely due to his incredibly sheltered childhood living as (what’s basically) his mother’s lab rat. This creates what I think is a very interesting contradiction between Abner’s obvious attempts to keep himself private between his seemingly randomly abrupt “attention-seeking“ esk comments. As James Gunn said, Abner takes “opportunities”. If you think about it, all of Abner’s “attention seeking” moments are responses to other characters speaking to him/asking him questions (ie: Robert: We’re all gonna die” Abner:“I hope so”, “Cleo: I thought you were the crazy one” Abner: “I am”, *Suicide Squad tries to explain away their previous, unnecessary mass murder* Abner: “I turned them into my mother in my head and killed them”). People tend to forget that before Abner notoriously trauma dumped to the rest of the Squad about his mother, he very actively tried to avoid having that conversation. Upon first asking about Abner’s polka dot virus, he tells the others that it’s “just a rash”, when he’s finally confronted about it again (right before he finally caves) he looks clearly uncomfortable and asks Robert to “just drop it”. Even during his little backstory rant he tries to simplify it and gloss over the events as quickly as possible. Instead of explaining his ongoing hallucinations of his mother (or whether she actually is dead or alive, for that matter, which was originally the question he was meant to be answering) he simply says she’s “everywhere” and refuses to elaborate. Hell, the other members of The Suicide Squad probably have no idea what the fuck he means by that, it would be quite the stretch for them to catch onto what was really going on just by Abner’s very breif description. (Ofc, it’s implied they eventually catch on, gathered from Robert shouting “its your mom!” at the very end, but my point still stands). So, I‘d say the thesis of this post is “Is Abner an attention seeker?” or more specifically, “Why is Abner so frank about his trauma when he otherwise tries to keep it hidden?” Well, I’d say this relates closely back to my earliest point, Abner is VERY socially awkward as well as very sheltered. When he bluntly speaks about his poor mental health, childhood trauma, ect, he (most likely) doesn’t consider the attention he’s bringing upon himself, or how awkward he‘s making his peers feel. He’s simply doing what’s expected of him, answering honestly, or alternatively adding what he can to the conversation.

Growing up under his mother’s foot meant he was to respond when he was spoken too, and he hasn’t yet grasped the crucial differences between the social climate of his abusive household and the rest of society. Why would he? From what we understand, Abner went straight from mom’s house to prison. The Suicide mission was his chance to experience the world, to try alcohol for the first time and dance with his new friends. To me, Abner’s tragically awkward hallucinations were less a chance for some visual comedy and more a subtle allegory for how Abner still has the mindset he did as an abused child. Everyone is his mother, everyone is powerful and scary and out to hurt him.

However, if theirs one thing I do agree with James Gunn on, it’s that I don’t think he had a connection with Milton that was that much deeper than he did with the rest of The Suicide Squad. Yes, yes I know, hot take alert/s, but lemme explain first okay. I agree that Abner most likely did have a crush on Milton, I thought that was made very clear (according to some fans, my assumptions were wrong). However, this doesn’t mean that I think they had some sort of thrilling “love affair” (as Robert puts it). To Abner, Milton represents normality, something he was never able to achieve. He’s just an average guy, a truck driver who cowers in fear of him and the squad, begging them not to hurt him. Milton’s so far removed from the kind of person his mother was that it’s impossible to project her onto him. He’s not powerful, he doesn’t want to hurt him, he couldn’t if he tried. He fears Abner, and I feel like that would have been quite the culture shock for someone who spent his entire life cowering at his mothers mercy, or otherwise as the wimp that not even Calendar Man could respect. It wasn’t necessarily Milton as a person that Abner became attached to (they only knew each other for like a day, of course) but what he represented to him. I don’t think this is that much of a big deal to be honest, I think James Gunn either one: worded his point very poorly or two: had an original interpretation of the character that was miscommunicated because of his actor’s very different interpretation. In the end I think David Dastmalchain’s interpretation came off far clearer than James Gunn’s did (which has been causing most of the confusion), and tbh I’m sort of glad that was the case. As a neurodivergent person who struggles highly with tone I’m absolutely in love with Polka Dot Man and David Dastmalchain’s performance. A character who comes off as “attention seeking” and blunt because he doesn’t understand when it is or isn’t appropriate to overshare is VERY relatable and compelling to me, and is far more interesting than whatever James Gunn’s original vision was. Of course, I don’t think James Gunn should get “canceled“ over this, I highly doubt he intended to call socially awkward people “attention seeking” for not understanding social cues, he made that pretty clear in the replies of his tweet. I don’t think he was originally referring to Polka Dot Man’s social anxiety, but it did sorta come off that way in the end so I understand how people could be upset. At the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter what James Gunn’s original interpretations were because they clearly didn’t come off in the film, and we were left with something far better! (in my opinion, obviously). I’m glad James Gunn made that tweet though, because it gave me a lot of food for thought.

(TLDR: Abner isn’t attention seeking, he’s socially awkward and grew up sheltered and abused, so he doesn’t understand why oversharing is inappropriate. Abner didn’t have a meaningful relationship with Milton per say, but he became attached to him because he represents normality for him, something he’s never experienced. James Gunn isn’t problematic for his bad take, it probably just expresses a mistranslation of his original vision.)

[homesweetgoodneighbor]

i love your take on maxson. gimme your opinions on danse please. genuinely not a danse simp; just curious about your thoughts

I'm going to tell y'all the honest-to-gods truth: I did the whole helping Danse on that one quest and shit, but hated him so fucking much, that the next play-through, I killed his ass.

And, yes, you can kill him. You just have to be really determined.

I zero idea he was what he was, nor was I planning to give him a chance because he is BoS. He is full on indoctrinated nazi, and when I tell y'all that I have a severely violent reaction to anyone of that ilk, I'm not exaggerating for laughs.

I literally use him now as a way to get onto the Prydwen so I can do copious amounts of killing admist laughter and industrial metal. It's my personal Doom game.

That being said, knowing what I know, I've been trying to bring myself to do his full story, because he is absolutely an interesting character.

There are two problems: one, he's like a military paladin and drives me nuts, and two, he CHOSE to become BoS. After everything is said and done, he chose to join a nazi cult. The only thing that made him question the entire situation was the fact he found out that he was exactly what they were trying to hunt and destroy. In fact, he's so indoctrinated he is willing to die because he hates himself so much for being exactly what they hunt. He doesn't even TRY to give himself a chance to maybe, you know, go "AW HELL NO. I NEED TO FIX THIS SHIT."

Now, there is a lot to unpack there. From the fact that anyone can become radicalized into even the most awful form of humans no matter how good their intentions might be to a whole thesis on internalized racism.

Knowing what I know now, I hate him a little less, and I can see why Danse lovers do indeed love their cinnamon roll. Still, I haven't been able to get passed his attitude towards Hancock, Nick, non-feral ghouls, the Railroad, etc. to decide if he's worth saving.

Also, I keep shooting Maxson in the face, so it's a bit hard to do the Danse questline when you take that raging dickbag out of the equation.

Either way, if I were to look at it in a IRL situation, boyfriend has some serious shit he needs to work on and he best show me his working on it. I give second chances, but never thirds.

I'm not sure that answers you @glitteringfire, but that's about where I am with him.

[hamliet]

Unless a Grain of Wheat Falls and It Dies...

Or, why I am pretty optimistic about the fates of Jean, Connie, Gabi, and all titanized people this chapter, which is also an excuse for me to talk about SnK’s allusions to Russian literature. 

There are strikingly parallel ideas The Brothers Karamazov and Attack on Titan, as well as parallel plot points and imagery to the point where if it isn’t deliberate, it’s uncanny. (NB: before people yell at me about comparing a Japanese and Russian work, Isayama has used Russian names since the start of SnK--Shiganshina is a Russian name.) In particular, there are narrative allusions to a portion of the novel known as “The Grand Inquisitor,” which is a short story within a novel. The central thesis of “The Grand Inquisitor” is as follows: 

nothing has ever been more insupportable for a man and a human society than freedom. 

This parable is told within the story by Ivan Karamazov, a character whose intellectuality is his gift and his curse. He tells his brother Alyosha that the motivation for creating this parable is precisely the evils done to children (oh look, a major SnK theme) and specifically cites an example which was unfortunately taken from real life in Russia and which Isayama has an uncanny parallel:

I want to see with my own eyes the hind lie down with the lion and the victim rise up and embrace his murderer. I want to be there when every one suddenly understands what it has all been for. All the religions of the world are built on this longing, and I am a believer. But then there are the children, and what am I to do about them? That's a question I can't answer... If all must suffer to pay for the eternal harmony, what have children to do with it, tell me, please? ... if it is really true that they must share responsibility for all their fathers' crimes, such a truth is not of this world and is beyond my comprehension. Some jester will say, perhaps, that the child would have grown up and have sinned, but you see he didn't grow up, he was torn to pieces by the dogs, at eight years old...

... How are you going to atone for them? Is it possible? ... What do I care for a hell for oppressors? What good can hell do, since those children have already been tortured? ... I want to forgive. I want to embrace. I don't want more suffering. And if the sufferings of children go to swell the sum of sufferings which was necessary to pay for truth, then I protest that the truth is not worth such a price. ... too high a price is asked for harmony; it's beyond our means to pay so much to enter on it... It's not God that I don't accept, Alyosha, only I most respectfully return Him the ticket.”

The actual parable of “The Grand Inquisitor” is Ivan’s answer to Alyosha’s question about Ivan’s lines above. Ivan tells a story about how freedom is actually what dooms humanity: it is the curse. (Alyosha does not believe this.) Jesus comes back to earth and is promptly arrested, because his existence and return threaten the wellbeing of society. To be happy, one cannot be free, but one or two strong people in society should be free and bear the burden for everyone else (you can see the parallels to King Fritz/the Reisses). 

Nothing is more seductive for man than his freedom of conscience, but nothing is a greater cause of suffering... all his life he loved humanity, and suddenly his eyes were opened, and he saw that it is no great moral blessedness to attain perfection and freedom, if at the same time one gains the conviction that millions of God's creatures have been created as a mockery, that they will never be capable of using their freedom...

This is SnK’s thesis: to be free, there will be suffering. It is part of human nature, and yet to not have it is to be lost. But SnK, despite its explorations of human darkness and monstrosity, has a higher view of humanity than does Ivan. SnK’s view is more alongside Alyosha’s, who says what is honestly the truth about not just the Reisses, but Eren now:

"Who are these keepers of the mystery who have taken some curse upon themselves for the happiness of mankind? .... It's simple lust of power, of filthy earthly gain, of domination—something like a universal serfdom with them as masters—that's all they stand for.”

Mikasa is akin to the Christ figure in the story, akin to Alyosha: Christ is constantly asked to speak, asked to act, and he does not until the very last moment, when he kisses the Grand Inquisitor on the lips. After the story is over, Alyosha then does likewise to Ivan. 

Not to mention when Alyosha worries about Ivan’s mental state, he then answers with this:

“Listen, Alyosha,” Ivan began in a resolute voice, “if I am really able to care for the sticky little leaves I shall only love them, remembering you. It's enough for me that you are somewhere here, and I shan't lose my desire for life yet.”

A simple leaf can save a life. A leaf can save the world. A leaf, grown from a tree that started as a seed falling to the ground, dead, only to grow life from that death. Alyosha himself notes SnK’s central thesis of chapter 137 in the (very long) novel’s final pages:

...some good, sacred memory, preserved from childhood, is perhaps the best education. If a man carries many such memories with him into life, he is safe to the end of his days, and if one has only one good memory left in one's heart, even that may sometime be the means of saving us.

There’s a lot more to this, but this is the epigraph to The Brothers Karamazov, the central thesis of the entire novel:

"Verily, verily, I say unto you, except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit." -John 12:24

Suffering can grow great fruit in an individual life, and by giving something up, by even death, something beautiful can come. Through cruelty, you can find life. 

This is not just a long-running theme in SnK, but a pattern in its plot. Often those who surrender then receive exactly what they had surrendered (but admittedly, not always, like Erwin). 

Mikasa accepted Eren’s loss, and got him back.

Mikasa let Armin go, and got him back.

Falco gave up hope of survival, and got another chance: 

Hange was going to die alone, feeling guilty for having failed her comrades, but saw everyone again, and they told her well done: 

Historia gave up being free, but now we know she will be.

Levi gave up on his revenge, and then got it. Annie thought she would never see her dad again, but she did. For Mikasa, accepting that she has to kill the boy she loves coincides not just with her acceptance of her love, but with the acceptance and knowledge that he loves her:

It always comes with sacrifice, increasingly hard sacrifice, but usually the seeds that are dropped grow and bloom. 

This chapter, everyone surrendered their hearts. They let their dreams fall to the ground, and I honestly think the story will allow it to plant life. Yes, the world as a whole is saved and that is enough to make thematic sense, but it works even better if the very people who were titanized this chapter also bloom again. They chose to trust Mikasa, Levi, Falco, and Pieck to finish the task.

The characters giving up their lives only to get them back make sense, and give Mikasa’s sacrifice of Eren. For Mikasa, Eren was her world, and she gave it up when she had lost everyone else. She had nothing left, and she still did it. I would hope she’d be narratively rewarded beyond just the world being saved, because Mikasa has always been motivated by her personal relationships.

Moving on from Mikasa: Connie’s mom has been kept alive and the concept of turning mindless titans back to humans was already brought up specifically in relation to her:

Connie giving up on his mother a dozenish chapters ago only to get her back now--not through sacrificing a child, but through saving the entire world--would fit the themes and patterns of SnK.

Thirdly, Gabi should not die. She’s Eren with positive development, and cannot meet the same end. Even people who are skeptical of every titan being saved seem to agree that she’ll be fine. It’s possible she’s the only one saved, but imo, not likely. 

See, the only shifter characters who are going to have the option of self-sacrifice are Falco and maaaaaybe Armin. The others look like they’re about to die right here and now, never mind choosing someone to save: the mindless titans are ripping at their napes. Armin also looks to be in bad shape. 

Yet Armin cannot narratively commit suicide; two chapters ago he was still screaming at himself for being useless and thinking he would be better off dead. He’s already tried the heroic sacrifice, too, so why would it work this time around? It does not work for his arc. Falco dying for Gabi was the plan without any freedom from the titan curse; it’s more powerful if ending the curse changes things, rather than forcing him to make the same choice that Reiner has always been trying to make: a heroic suicide. It could happen; it’s just not as narratively strong.

As for whether the worldbuilding rules, we know that mindless titans are not truly dead nor entirely mindless; they just don’t have freedom. Ymir’s case of getting herself back after decades shows that they aren’t quite dead or absorbed. They still have consciousness that can be awoken; Ymir described it as being in a long “nightmare.” Dina still went looking for Grisha. Connie’s mom remembered and recognized Connie, telling him “welcome home.” There is plenty of evidence that there are parts of these people that are still in there even if they are forced to become monsters (oh hey, it’s an Eren parallel; he was conscious of it and had choices while mindless titans do not, but the parallel remains).

[i-make-fun-of-spn-characters]

I feel like you've given most spn related things some lil spice but I always love the spice on this : hot spicy take on the "Dean is the most horrible character and ruins everyone's life and Sam and Cas are poor little meow meows who only do bad things sometimes because tyran Dean farted in their direction" takes that are not really only said by anti-Dean peeps ? Obsessed with that incredible thesis and would love the added spice ❤

SPICY HOT HOT GHOST PEPPERS CAROLINA REAPERS HELP I'M BURNING

I really try to respect other people’s opinions, and I believe there are a wealth of ways to interpret a story, and I think that’s a deeply beautiful thing. This applies to interpretations I don't agree with and outright dislike as well. That said, some opinions are simply and objectively bad, dishonest, and/or demonstrably false, and I truly do not believe you can sit down and honestly watch through the show with an open mind about all the characters, truly pay attention to what they do, say, and believe, and come to the conclusion that this show is about an evil manipulative abusive man terrorizing his pure and sinless brother and friend. It is an interpretation built from cherry picking facts to suit an ugly, miserable theory, making Mount Everest out of a bunch of the tiny mole hills, making the worst possible presumptions of feelings and intentions, and holding characters to completely different standards in order to neatly divide them into "abused" and "abuser" in a way that, frankly, fetishizes the abused person. I despise this interpretation of the story with every fiber of my being, and I have absolutely no respect for the opinion of anyone who peddles it, regardless of who they cast as villain/victim (because people have also done this with the others—it’s just more “popular” to do it with Dean... I mean... does anyone else remember how people were shitting on Sam after his emotional reaction in 14.12? Calling him an evil abuser? Because I do).

The thing that always gets me about this take isn't just how dishonest, unfair, mean-spirited, and compassionless it is in its treatment of Dean’s feelings, circumstances, and intentions... but how deeply reductive and offensive it is toward Sam and Castiel, sucking away their identities to turn them into effigies to mourn for their sad, Stockholm syndrome-esque attachment to their "abuser". Further, it grips the heart of the show—the relationship between Sam and Dean, and then the relationship among TFW as a whole—in a tight, uncompromising fist and pulverizes it. It literally rips out the heart of the show (the RELATIONSHIPS) and replaces it with something unprepossessing of any merit: A miserable, 15 years long story about a malicious abuser getting away with terrorizing those closest to him for his entire life, while his poor abuse victims suffer through until they die for him/happy to be reunited with him because they “don’t know any better” and never ever learned better, I guess. What a stupid, sad sack of a story.

Castiel is a thousands of years old celestial being who has literally beaten Dean into the pavement under no form of mind control, and has shown over and over again that he will do whatever the hell he wants, regardless of whatever Dean thinks about being sidelined. If he thinks whatever he is doing is in Dean's best interest, he literally does not care how Dean feels about it. He will nod and smile and then fly off and swallow thousands of souls with Dean begging him not to, shove Dean out of the way to attack the big bad, leave Dean alone in Purgatory, refuse to come out of Purgatory so he can self-flagellate, fly off with the angel tablet, help Sam with the Book of the Damned, let Lucifer possess him without anyone's knowledge or agreement, come into Dean's room under the guise of apologizing for ghosting him so that he can steal The Colt out from under his pillow and murder someone, decide not to murder that person and still prevent Sam and Dean from helping by knocking them both unconscious, get himself killed, make a deal to trade his life for Jack's and never tell anyone, hide information and worries and ignore phone calls, ghost Sam and Dean, and bicker and fight with Dean as if they are a married couple. Love sickness and feelings of worthlessness (which Cas has a wealth of reasons to feel—many of which aren’t even related to Dean but to his heavenly family) are reinterpreted as the result of some sort of constant, terrorizing emotional abuse. Power and authority that Dean does not actually have is forced into his hands by these fans. Maybe listen when Cas says, “Hey—not everything is your fault.” Maybe listen when he says “I loved the whole world because of you”, calls Dean a role model, says he enjoys their conversations, offers to die with him and dies for him multiple times. Maybe treat these feelings as genuine and valid and HIS and not as the delusions of some poor manipulated baby. 

Sam is framed this way even more often than Cas, and it's a damn shame, because what I typically see is this: Sam’s development into a mediator and peacemaker is twisted and reinterpreted as coming from a place of weakness and/or fear. Rationality, maturity, wisdom, and compassion are not the traits of a scared, powerless child. They are the traits of a mature adult, who has been beaten down by life, and fought and raged against his circumstances, and somehow come out of it with more kindness and understanding and strength instead of less. He has made his own decisions whenever it was possible, within the set of circumstances doled out to him. From telling his dad to go fuck himself and going to college, to getting back into hunting to avenge Jess (NOT because of Dean—Dean took him home without complaint at the end of the woman in white case), to continuing to hunt after their father died because he wanted to feel close to him (Dean was actually weirded out and sort of disgusted by this), raging and fighting to save Dean from his deal against Dean’s wishes, continuing to hunt and working with Ruby (directly against Dean’s dying wish), drinking demon blood, jumping in the cage, leaving hunting to go be with Amelia, coming back to hunting to save Kevin, fighting with Dean over what he had with Amelia and threatening to leave if Dean didn't shut his mouth, leaving Amelia to go back to hunting (Dean ultimately suggests he go back to her—Sam chooses to stay), trying to kill Benny, demanding to be the one to do The Trials and saying he is going to SURVIVE them—that being the ENTIRE POINT, losing that resolve in a fit of depression but choosing to drop the knife, demanding space from Dean (and being given it), fighting to save Demon Dean who didn’t want to be found or saved, using the Book of the Damned against Dean’s wishes, telling Charlie that this is what he wants—that he used to want normal but now all he wants is to hunt with Dean and that he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he can’t have that, unleashing the Darkness in his desperation to keep Dean with him and even saying, “I would do it again” in the aftermath, saving the town being destroyed by Amara, getting into The Cage with Lucifer, leading a team against the British Men of Letters, nurturing Jack, punching Dean in the face when he was going to sacrifice himself, leading more hunters, wielding a gun against Chuck... and that’s just some highlights. Sam Fucking Winchester does not need your bullshit about him being some sad, scared, helpless baby lorded over by mean old Dean who has never let him do anything he wants. 

Yes, in the text itself, there is jealousy and resentment at times, and there is legitimate and righteous anger on Sam’s part on a few occasions. There is blame cast on Dean by Sam for some of these choices/circumstances. Some of those moments where Dean is blamed are legitimate, and some of them... frankly, are not. Within the framework of the fucked up dynamics of the way they were raised, Sam and some fans bristle when they feel Dean is casting himself as the parent he is not, but Sam also has been guilty in the past of trying to reframe himself as Dean’s child when things got tough. Neither of them is responsible for the origin of that dynamic, but they BOTH have responsibility to change it, and they both, ultimately, succeed in doing so. For Sam, his part comes in recognizing and learning to fully own his own choices. Recognizing that he is not a child, and he is certainly not Dean’s child, and it isn’t just “Mummy—loosen the grip”, but Sam has to too—not claim independence only to blame Dean for his choices when his own decisions have an ultimate outcome he is unhappy with. That is a legitimate arc that Sam goes through imo, but he comes out the other side of it, and he and Dean relate to each other much better as peers from then on—and I’d like to note that throughout the entire series, when they don’t relate as perfect peers and teammates, it isn’t always Dean “bossing Sam around”, but Sam also trying to sideline Dean and yes—boss him around. And when they lied and hurt each other and yes, even manipulated each other, Dean most certainly wasn't always the one doing the lying and hurting and manipulating. Always, always, ALWAYS, they both had an understandable point of view, and it was complex, and you could understand why they made the choices they did, even if you thought of those choices as being wrong ones. 

I also would like to point out (because this is basically what I see all of the time) that Dean being hurt by someone or simply voicing his feelings or opinion is in no way abusive or manipulative. Dean is certainly charismatic and loved and his returning love and respect is often deeply desired, but he is not an actual siren, who bends people to his will simply by speaking or being. People are, in fact, able to tell him “no”, and frequently FREQUENTLY do. Further more, no one is owed his affection, his unwavering loyalty, or his trust. He has a right to his boundaries, regardless of if it makes some poor sad sap feel deprived of the “wellspring of coveted love” while he works through things. He can be hurt and angry, and he can wear his heart on his sleeve at times, and he can be flawed, and broken. [Insert Castiel's speech from 15.18 here]. So can Sam. So can Cas. None of them are manipulating each other by virtue of getting angry, feeling hurt, being traumatized, needing space, or having differing opinions or feelings. Sam didn’t punch Dean in the face in 14.12 because he's a cruel, manipulative abuser trying to force Dean under his thumb. He didn’t work behind Dean’s back with Ruby, insist on doing The Trials, beg Dean to use Doc Benton’s alchemy, use the Book of the Damned to cure Dean, pump him full of blood to cure him of being a demon despite the fact that it might kill him, or scream at him and fight him for wanting to get in the Ma’lak box because he “doesn’t respect his autonomy” and “wants to control him” and “doesn’t respect his right to his own body”. He did it because he loves him desperately, and Dean could stand to fucking hate himself less, and he fiercely wanted Dean to live even when Dean didn’t want to or couldn’t picture what that could be like. He didn’t force Dean to do anything simply by opening his mouth to voice disagreement and swaying Dean when he did so. Now reverse that. 

Cas didn't beat Dean into the ground in season 5 because he wanted to terrorize him into never going against Castiel ever again. He didn’t go behind his back dozens of times, sideline him, go MIA, all because he wanted to manipulate and control Dean and punish him. He didn’t throw sassy remarks at him to shatter his self-esteem. Now reverse that. 

*Breathes*

Anyway, fuck "X is abusive” interpretations.